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...have an extradition treaty.  Don't tell me.  It's better if I don't know where she is."

Money stood, blocking Benji's view of the computer display.  He all but forced Benji from the room, back into the VIP lounge. "When you talk to her, you tell her this is the only time I'm doing this for her.  I'll make sure her account is squared."

Money propelled Benji through the VIP lounge with an iron grip on his arm.  Money brought him to Wyatt at  the door.  "If you speak a word of this to anyone, you'll never speak again.  You understand?"  A meaningful glance passed between Money and Wyatt, the security guard. 

Within moments, the security guard had Benji outside the VIP lounge.  The big black man laid a beefy hand on Benji's shoulder, then rolled his shoulder and neck to one side then the other. 

Benji knew what was coming next.   He'd obviously been less than convincing.

Benji gets the crap beaten out of him...

Uh oh. No one's written this branch yet. :o

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