Chapter 1

Jenna was euphoric. She would not shut up as she drove home from the KU Relays. Her daughter, Stephanie, her fourteen-year-old daughter had just won the high school Mile Run. She had just shattered her mother's high school record that had stood for all of these years. What's more, her mother had been a senior when she set it.

Stephanie was oblivious to what had just happened. Being one of her earliest races of her freshman year, she didn't get the enormity of it. She had run a 3: 45 mile in one of the early national meets of the track season. She was too young to realize the magnitude of having Jim Ryan be the honorary starter to fire the gun at the beginning of all the mile races. She didn't get the significance of having her picture taken with him handing her the gold medal for MVP for the Relays.

The old men in the stands, with the stopwatches, were distracted by her beauty. Some forgot to record the final time. Stephanie was wearing what more and more girls seemed to be running in now.

She had a type of tissue-thin black spandex suit like the women swimmers use. It looked like a one piece swim-suit. The part from her belly button down was black. The bottoms were cut very high on the sides and front. The part from her belly button to the bottom of her breasts was a transparent, golden brown, making it look like it wasn't there. The top was black. Her perky long stem pink nipples strained against the tissue-thin fabric. Finally, about the beginning of the third lap, she was soaking wet. The suit was, for all practical purposes, transparent because of the perspiration. She was so exhausted, she felt she had crapped her pants, but she refused to change her pace.

When she made the final turn, the crowd was standing, screaming and clapping to where you couldn't hear yourself think even in the open outdoor stadium as she passed several other girls on the home stretch. Everyone could see the time clicking off on the field house scoreboard. The numbers flew by: 3:40; 3:41. 3:42 ... The scoreboard stopped at 3:45. The crowd roared at the new Relay time by fifteen seconds.

Stephanie just didn't get the enormity of her accomplishment. Her mother did. Being forty nine, this was an accomplishment she had the perspective of many years of competition to appreciate. Jenna felt fifteen feet tall as she hugged her daughter. The gold medals for the mile, two mile, half mile, the 4 by mile relay and MVP were dwarfed by her overwhelming pride for her daughter.

She and Stephanie had going on two-a-day runs all summer before and after her eighth grade year. During track season they had gone on 15-mile jogs before school. All the track coaches knew was that during interval training in the afternoon, Stephie was miles away from the other girls. They had put her in with the boys during track practice and was beating a good number of them.

The girls ran like gazelles on their morning runs. They ran on the balls of their feet, and did not have the typical slap-slap of heel-to toe sound as they ran along the road. Most of the other joggers never heard them coming until the shadows appeared and the two women appeared briefly as they went by.

Stephanie had come a long ways from her days as "Thumper." "Why do you call me that?" she used to say as an eleven-year old. Back then, she had trouble keeping up with her mother. Jenna would stop, turn around and say: "Come on, Thumper." When Stephie first started running, she had the typical heel-first; then the slap of the front of her foot hitting the pavement. Jenna lovingly called her "Thumper" until she learned to land on the balls of her feet, and not let her heels touch. Occasionally, as a sign of affection she still called her "Thumper."

Jenna could hardly wait to tell her husband the exciting news. This was her second husband, and not the father of Stephanie. Jenna had met and briefly married on of her coaches when she was in college. She had dumped him after she found out he had been very friendly with some of the other girls.

Jenna struggled a little with getting her degree in Microbiotics. She was interested in the new research with DNA. That was how she met Joe. He was a mousy little bastard with a skimpy pecker, but he was prominent in their field. That made him a good provider.

Just as a homely woman can change from a rating of 7 to 9 if she gives good blowjobs, a skimpy dick clown can go from a 3 to a nine if he makes enough money. Jenny was a moderately happy woman with the eternally optimistic belief that she would eventually grow to love this man deeply over time. That was her belief when she married him.

Jenna parked the car in their drive as the darkening clouds seemed ready to explode. It looked like tornado weather and they scurried to get their equipment in before the bad weather started.

Jenna got the final bags in and slammed the door shut as Stephanie ran through the house looking for her father to hug and tell him the good news.

The lights began to flicker. Jenna saw the unattended laptop on the dining room table. She went to hit "Save" before Joe lost whatever he had open. She was puzzled by the strange color and display on the screen. She noticed a USB flash drive in the side of the computer. That seemed strange, because they had the hard drive, external hard drive, and an online hard drive for backup.

Jenna copied the Flash Drive and emailed it to her email address before she saved everything. Knowing everything was saved, she ignored the laptop as though she hadn't even noticed it.

She ran upstairs and hugged her husband as she and Stephie couldn't contain themselves as they repeated all the excitement of the day. Joe was intrigued with the results, but not that demonstrative as the two women hugging him madly.

After the euphoria of the event was over, Jenna tried to contain herself at work the next day. She had to remind herself that nobody at work cared about her daughter or their interests. She tried to make it just another normal day.

During her lunch break, Jenna went to the cafeteria and pulled her sack lunch out of the refrigerator. She peeled the orange as her laptop came to life. She checked her email. The file she copied from her husband was several megabytes. Jenna copied it to a spare thumb drive she had in her purse. She switched to the thumb drive to examine it.

The folders had some curious terms she was not familiar with. The main folder had the name: Satyriasis 001.

Jenna started to Google the term. She looked up the word on the internet. It was a noun, taken from Greek Mythology and had several meanings:

· From psychiatry, it was used to describe a condition in men with a compulsion to have sex with as many women as possible.

· From Greek Mythology, it described a woodland creature having the head and body of a man connected to the body of a horse.

· A licentious man; a lecher.

Each day during her lunch hour, she poured through the files. She found out that her husband, in part because of his work, had been researching the results of many very old research studies.

She found studies from the Nazis and their genetic research. During the war and even before, they were obsessed with their results of selective breeding. They were convinced they could create the master race.

There were other studies. The American scientists had been studying the effects of selective breeding with the African slaves. They were studying the results of the huge black athlete, and their seemingly superior athletic ability. Her husband, Joe was trying to see what there was common in all the DNA that could be used or combined to create more outstanding athletes.

Suddenly a flash of horror swept over her. Some seemingly insignificant incidents at home seemed to make more sense. Jenna had noticed that Joe had recently taken more interest in Stephanie and her training. She had noticed that he had taken more interest in her diet. He had no interest in track, but had asked more and more seemingly innocent questions about her training and performance.

She had also noticed, to her discomfort, that her skimpy pecker husband's performance in bed. He seemed "bigger." Although he had never seemed that interested in sex, his interest seemed to be perking up lately.

Curious, Jenna wasn't quite sure what to make of all of it. That night, Jenna took a shower. Instead of her usual shower after her husband, she took his hand and led him into the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet seat and playfully undressed him.

The thing seemed noticeably "wider." He got into the shower as Jenna undressed. Joe didn't wait for her to finish. He got in first. When Jenna was ready, she got in and closed the curtain. Joe was mostly done with his shower and ready to get out. Jenna took the new soap bar from him and started to go over him again.

She saw it flinch. It seemed to gradually uncoil, rather than just straighten up. Jenna was curious. She kneeled down in front of him, talking about her run with Stephanie that morning. She was telling him that she was probably getting too old to wear the sheer running suit that she had been using. She felt Stephie would need to start using a training bra because her nipples were starting to show.

The damned thing uncoiled a little more. The longer her story went, the more it uncoiled. It was beginning to get alarming. Jenna tried to appear casual as she tried to control her stare. Her soft soaping of him and story was creating a monster. Jenna looked up at him trying to appear oblivious to everything.

With a very loving and tender manner, she planted a soft kiss on the end of him before she stood. Joe could not control himself. She had turned her back to him and handed him the soap. She had placed her hand around him and squeezed briefly before she felt the hot splash of semen across the back of her. Jenna reached around behind herself to hug her husband. He reached around to cup her breasts.

What was happening to her husband? He had never been this interested in her before. She couldn't understand the change. They dressed and went downstairs to get supper ready.

When Jenna entered the dining room, something wasn't right. Two huge men were standing in the dining room. They had Stephanie tied and gagged. Her eyes were ready to explode out of fright. The duct tape over her mouth kept her from screaming, but she had a soft mewing sound as the only sign of her terror.

"What is going on?" Jenna screamed. Before she could get the whole sentence out, a huge hand reached out from behind her to muffle it. She felt the point of a knife against her throat. She struggled to turn to her husband, hoping for help from him. She could see him at the top of the stairs behind her, with a hand over his mouth and a huge switch blade at his throat too.

"We want the fucking research work asshole!" the man holding Stephanie snarled.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Jenna heard her husband stutter. She knew he was lying, because she had seen it.

"Either you produce the file, or I'll cut your nuts out!" the man behind Stephanie said once more. Joe was silent.

"I guess he is going to be hard to break. While we are waiting, I think we will let him watch us entertain ourselves with these women. Once more, Joe was silent. He weighed the value of the information he had against his appraisal of the women in front of him.

He had spent years evaluating the research of the Nazis and the Americans on selective breeding. He had spent years concocting different formulas and tracking different DNA genomes. He had been able to significantly alter the physical ability of his wife and daughter. Stephanie wasn't really his biological daughter, but he had been able to observe her growth and alter her performances by selectively grafting some of her DNA with some of the very smart Germans and incredibly fast black athletes.

Joe had been playing with his own DNA, and experimenting with the most well endowed men he had observed. He was going to have to dial that down, because Jenna was beginning to notice something was different.

When Jenna heard them discuss their interest in her Daughter, she screamed, broke free and rushed to her daughter. That was the last thing she remembered. One of the men had hit her and knocked her unconscious. When she woke up, her husband and daughter were gone. She was the only one at home.

Jenna was now alone with this stranger. He was Bruno Schmidt, an Aryan Brotherhood Disciple who had founded the Aryan Satirist Movement. He had the belief of the Aryan Brotherhood, that the Germans were the chosen race, and they had to preserve it and improve it.

He was about six feet six inches tall, 240 pounds, blond haired, blue-eyed and extremely athletic in appearance. He spoke a number of languages. We are going to get this information out of your husband one way or another. You are to come with me.

Jenna did not know where her husband or daughter was, and had little choice but to go along with his orders if she wanted to see her family again.

Bruno handcuffed her with her hands behind her. He blindfolded her and guided her into a car. They drove to the airport. It was getting dark, so nobody noticed as he helped her into a small, six-passenger Lear Jet. It was a short flight to Quebec. There, they were picked up in the dark by another car that led them to the Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac,

The Château Frontenac, a "château" style hotel, was built during the late 19th and early 20th centuries; the newer portions of the hotel—including the central tower, opened in 1893. The Château was built near the historic Citadelle, more commonly known as "The Old Walled City."

The "Old Walled City" was the fortified compound built by the French at the mouth of the Saint Laurence. The massive old fort walls are massive defensive walls fortified with huge cannons around the entire perimeter. The cannons facing the river can fire clear across and keep any ships from entering the river and going into Canada.

The fort sits on a bluff, about 300 feet above the river. It is a steep walk down the cobble stone roads to the two or three story warehouses that sit along the river where they were used to receive and send shipments from deep down the river on back to France or other countries.

One of Quebec City's buildings, the landmark hotel is perched atop a tall cape overlooking the Saint Lawrence River, has a spectacular view for miles, overlooking the mouth of the Saint Lawrence. The building is the most prominent feature of the Quebec City skyline as seen from across the St. Lawrence.

The hotel is probably over sixteen stories tall, depending on which floors are counted. There are several underground floors, which are used as access from different roads, shipping and receiving. They can also be used for surreptitious access or exit. The paparazzi may track celebrities entering at the main entrance, but be unaware that the same people could leave from another car on a different level on a different street.

The horse drawn carriages entering under the stone arches have an elegant sound of the steel- horse shoes echo off of the cobble stone paving and the interior courtyard walls.

Jenna's handcuffed and blindfolded figure had been draped in a thin silk hooded cape. Her blindfold had been concealed by full face wrap around sunglasses and a hood. Her arms did not show. She was ushered from the car into a private elevator to the penthouse suite. She could sense the elevator moving, and she struggled to keep herself still as the elevator stopped.

Jenna was ushered from the elevator into the penthouse living room. She fought with her eyes, struggling to adjust to the brightness when her glasses and blindfold were removed. Her terror for the situation she was in made her oblivious to the magnificent view of the view over the outside terraces and beyond over the mouth of the St. Laurence River.

As she adjusted her eyes to the interior, she could see that her husband and daughter were sitting in different couches nearby. Her husband was bound and had an uneasy expression on his face. They had all been brought to the grand hotel separately on different planes and cars, so they would not know where the others were or what their situation was.

The Aryan Satirist Movement had a number of permanent suites, meeting rooms and restaurants for permanent meeting places in the hotel. Bruno had brought the family here for a concerted effort to extract Joe's DNA secrets. One way or another, they were going to get their way.

Slowly, Jenna began to remember the situation they were in before they were kidnapped and brought here. Joe was not going to reveal any of his independent research and they were going to coerce the information out of the family by torturing their daughter and forcing Joe to watch. Just how long would he hold out before he capitulated?

Joe and Jenna were bound to large solid oak chairs. "Are you sure you are not going to give us your DNA studies, Joe?"

Joe would not look at Bruno, and refused to acknowledge the question.

Bruno walked over to Stephanie. Bruno reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a 12" long white ivory covered stick. That stick was the handle end of a huge switch blade. He held it in front of Stephie and pressed the button. Although the blade opened instantly in a fraction of a second, the event unfolded in slow motion in Stephie and Jenna's minds. The seemed to be able to follow the tip slowly coming into view and swinging a 189° arc. As the blade snapped to a locked open position, the metallic click sounded like freight cars coupling. The sound echoed off of the high vaulted plaster walls. The curtains seemed to flinch with the noise.