It was a brutal slaying. Bodies perforated with bullets and bizarre etchings carved into flesh-ridden corpses. Among the bullet-ridden bodies was a retired mafia don, living on a generous retirement package from the mob. He was a possessor of valuable information and secrets on mafia deals and services rendered on behalf of others. Another of the lead-filled bodies was a friend of Susan Dax and one of the FBIs top agents. Why such a crime? Who orchestrated it? The only lead and witness is a terrified man-child, holed up safely from those seeking his whereabouts. A man who knew more than he was willing to proclaim or acknowledge but less than his chasers have the need or wanted to know. He held a secret so devastating it could upset the social order as they knew it. After him were a group of disruptive goons who would stop at nothing to lay their hands on their reward. A clique of mafia assassins, a sect comprised of fanatical clergymen, the authorities, and of course, Susan Dax. A desperate pursuit was on. To whoever found and reached him first, they would claim a prize, but it came with a scourge that dealt with a matter of life and death. It was only a matter of who would get to him first. Susan Dax was betting on her.