Westly Mapeler drove the Ford Taurus up Sepulveda Pass hill on I — 405. UCLA campus far off to the right and the Getty Museum on the left and Westly didn't care. His eyes were on the road. The traffic was murder, just as bad as Washington DC. His CIA partner Fred Codley was busy reading the files that were carried unopened from Dulles International to LAX, to the Avis rental desk and to the car. Westly is 38 and has eight years with the CIA. Fred, at 28 had only two years. As the car went over the hill into the San Fernando valley, Fred closed the last file.

Westly finally broke the silence, "Learn anything?".

"About John Roberts, not really. Volunteered for the war in San Salvador and got the Medal of Honor for rescuing that Sargent. An American hero, I saw the movie. He really did that stuff too, they didn't make it up for the movie." Silence. "I can't read on an airplane, it makes me sick" Silence. "But I see why they picked us for this mission. The junior guys, because we're expendable."

Westly, "What are you talking about. We're bringing him good news."

Fred, "Right, that his father, Andrew, is still alive and being held in a Russian prison."

Westly, "That's good news."

Fred, "And we've known about it for six months and said nothing. Look, I don't want to end up as a meal for the piranha in his brother's moat. We can disappear, you know."

Westly, "First of all, we didn't actually know six months ago. It was all unsubstantiated rumor from those Russian defectors that could have been lying. We had to reconfigure the satellite to fly over the camp and still wait for months to get a picture of the father in the yard. Now we know and we're here to report good news."

Fred, "Do you think John knows his father was CIA?"

Westly, "Of course, his step father would have told him. After all it was John's father that recruited Charles in the first place. And another thing, it's illegal to import piranha."

Fred, "So he knows Charles was CIA too?"

Westly, "John hired Ira and a half dozen other guys from the agency, didn't he. It stands to reason."

Fred, "Ira's a scary guy."

"An old man with one arm, my God. You big baby. Look if it makes you any happier, I'll do all the talking."

Fred, "They probably have alligators in the moat. Look, if they offer us a tour, just say no."

Westly wasn't sure what this mission was all about. When they gave him the assignment two days ago, they said everything was in the files. Give one file — with the defector reports and pictures of the father — to John, and, that's it. The other file was background. The CIA would give John updates as they were received but that was the extent of their involvement. Whatever John chose to do was up to him. And yesterday, Westly's assigned partner George Snow went to the hospital for an appendectomy and he gets this guy who is afraid of his own shadow. Westly was no fool. Something else was going on here. Oh well, two and a half hours to go. Over the Tejon Pass, take the left fork, south of Bakersfield and another left to the Los Padres National Forest. John's house and his brother's castle are atop a 200 foot granite cliff on the left. Their back yards adjoin a National Park. The town of Robertsville, population 4,521, is a mile farther. It's a small town, mostly farmers and JPR Enterprises employees. A gas station at each end, two bars, one shopping center, no Wal-Mart and mostly single family houses. The airport is north of town.

Westly, "You know Wayne has three kids. You think he would put alligators in his moat?"

Fred, "I went to John's final concert, you know."

"Which one?"

Fred, "Boston, the first. Absolutely fantastic."

Westly, "I went to the one in L.A."

Fred, "You're kidding. How did you get tickets, that was so sold out. You're making this up."

Westly, "My uncle's LAPD, a Captain." He waited a minute for Fred to brood. "I have all his albums."

Fred, "No you don't. You're so full of crap. The Japanese album was never released here. It was only released in Japan."

Westly, "I have friends. I have the CD with music only and the VCR tape."

After a few minutes of silence, Westly turned on the radio and found a news station. Twenty minutes later, they took the left turn, south of Bakersfield.

Fred, "What a desolate countryside. Ever stay at a JPR Hotel?"

Westly, "Way out of my league. With the government, we're lucky to get a Holiday Inn."

Fred, "Tell me about it. I think the turn is a couple of miles up. My last time out, I stayed at a Motel 6. Just as well, I'm an analyst. I don't do field work."

They spotted the castle turrets a couple of miles away. The cliff face is a half mile from the road and they saw a small waterfall cascading over the cliff. Reception faded so the radio was off and the windows were down. It was a pretty day. Next was John's house and they could see the tops of the two story sections, one at each end.

Fred, "Overflow from the moat. Can you hear it? Can you hear it?"

The music, coming from John's crescent shaped house was channeled towards the road and they both started singing along at the same time.

"I found my thrill, on Blueberry Hill...."

They turned left onto the two lane road, the only vehicle entrance. After a half mile, the road curves up to the left and straightens. They stop at the guard shack on top. The guard checked their ID, called the house and told them to go ahead. "Quarter mile up, first house, take the far end of the circular driveway."

They cross the fifty foot bridge over the shallow river, spot the house, turn in the second driveway and park in front of the house. It's an impressive house. Two hundred feet across the front, one story, and attached two story wings at each end that bend 45 degrees toward the cliff face. Twenty thousand square feet of main house with a detached garage of two thousand square feet set back in the woods on the exit side of the drive.

A uniformed guard meets them at the door, takes the keys to the car and tells them to go in. He will move the car off to the side. They close the heavy front door behind them and walked straight ahead to the massive kitchen with a large dining area to the left. Darcy, 30, white, tall, trim and attractive, is busy cooking. This is a working kitchen. Whatever she's making, smells good. Darcy gives them a smile and asks if they wanted anything. No? She points to the coffee already made and they both get a cup.

The band is set up at the left of the Olympic size pool that runs parallel to the main house. The whole back side of the kitchen area is sliding glass and the doors are open. John, 34, white, very fit, in a full size bathing suit is at the grand piano, Bobby Jo Goodwith, 45, white, average looking, marathoner, ex-army, one of Ira's fitness trainers and now a JPR bodyguard, is on the drums. She is wearing shorts with a thick leather belt and a sleeveless, sweat soaked t-shirt. On the saxophone is Thomas Crown, 39, Chinese, slight of built, martial arts expert who reports to Wayne Roberts. At pool side is Gloria, John's wife, 36, Virgin Islands black with a white Dutch father, super model good looks, an OG/GYN Doctor who gave up practicing medicine because a merit less lawsuit awarded millions to one of her patients. She sits at a pool side patio table with a built in umbrella. Four kids are singing and dancing along with the music and playing small drums, beating sticks, shaking tambourines or...