Feb. 25th's episode

Chugging out of the docks in Frisco, the Captain, not one to ask questions but rather muse among his own thoughts, wondered in fact why a town renamed a famous street after a gossip columnist. It was odd to be sure, many people are sure to have gotten lost looking for the Embarcadero, only to find part of it renamed Herb Caen blvd. The water was not bad today, and his passengers, the most beautiful thing this old fishing boat had ever seen surely, were not in any hurry it seemed. Turning west at the shipping channel, the Captain of the F/V Flyer increased his speed to 18kts as he slipped through the chop of the Golden Gate undercrossing, and setting a nearly true North course, began the slow trip up the coast of California.

"My god, it smells like that girl at the "place" we had to bunk with until she dissappeared". The riotous laughter from Janelle was her Sisters best panacea for the horrible conditions they found themselves in. Bunking in a room that merely contained two plywood bunks haphazardly bolted to the walls, and on one end, balanced on old 5 gallon buckets, the stench of uncleaned holds and old fishing gear was enough to make them both purge their stomachs. "Come on nasal fatigue" chortled Ranelle as she used apparently potable water to wash the vomitus from the ends of her otherwise nearly blindly white hair. Not a true blonde, but rather a "tow head" this wasn't her most striking feature. Neither was the incredible, gravity defying, infant attracting chest she and her Sister possessed.It was the Height, or rather, disparity in their height. Ranelle was a 5'10" 150 lb. model like Woman. Often said to have the body of Marilyn Monroe, the mind of Harvard professor, and the joke's of a Gunnery Sgt. in the Marines, it shocked people when they were introduced to her Sister. Janelle, also possessed of the shocking white hair, nearly nipple length, was a pert 5'3" tall, and would also never, ever, need a flotation device. Other than the obvious height differential, the two were near reflections of one another. Down to the way their mouths curled up in a cheshire Cat type smile. However, it was a second, rude shock to most peoples systems when they found out the sisters were in fact, 2 yrs apart. Ranelle served in the Marines, most notably under fire while working with the 3rd M.E.U. as a Transport driver. She volunteered for the most dangerous work, "route sword" transfers. The drive to and from "Psychopathic Megalomaniac International" was the most dangerous drive in the world currently. If not the I.E.D's, ambushes, and what-not, the 114 degree heat often killed vehicles just as surely as a mortar to the engine block. Her three purple hearts, or, "enemy marksmanship awards" attested to her fortitude. The two silver stars, with "V" device, and THREE bronze stars w/Oak leaf device, attested to her bravery and skills as a Marine Rifleman. The last Silver Star was awarded after a 14 hour firefight that started with a small arms ambush, and at one point, was a full scale attack by no less than 1,000 hardcore insurgent fighters. Two Q.R.F.'s of the U.S. Marines, and one Army Patrol in the area, fought for survival, to hell with the job at this point. Ranelle, being ever mindful that she was "ordered to obtain one Iraqi national Treasury head, and deliver him safely to the green zone" she took the opportunity, during the firefight, to move her and her squad to the home of the treasury official. Lucky for them, it was a three story house. Sending her sniper team to the roof, the pushed the goats, hay, and other livestock out of the way and began sending death through the heads of their enemies. Ms. Patricia Hornthorten was awarded a Bronze medal that day, along with the coveted "Ace of spades" awarded by the U.S. SOCOM community to snipers with ten confirmed kills. The home came under direct mortar attack, killing most her squad immediately, leaving her, two Sgt's, and the treasury official to fend for themselves. Finding a 'Prick 90" on one of the dead Army soldiers in front of the house, she set up a plan which would allow her and the rest to escape. Details are still classified, however, one account details a four hour rooftop to basement flight, during which she is reported to have killed no less than 12 enemy single handedly, three of them hand to hand combat. As her Sister put it "she's one bad bitch."

Janelle, the shorter of the two, was no less a mean female dog, but preferred stealth to abject invasion. Don't get me wrong. She and her sister were more capable of taking care of themselves physically than most men. Both were raised in the same place, the same way. Both of them learned at the knee of a man named only "Papa Pat". His ballistic eyewear and do-rag always in place, he taught them a style of combat known to few then, and all the rage now. MMA as it is know, or, mixed martial arts, combines, as the name would imply my dear reader, different aspects of many of the martial arts. Boxing, kick boxing, judo, and Brazilian Ju-Jitsu were the order of the day. Both girls were capable of benching over twice their body weight, though not built like weightlifters. They were also capable of defeating four physical attacks at one time. Handy in bars, bad areas, and later on, this line of work. Her specialty was intelligence. No matter how it was obtained. Her first two years, while Ranelle was serving in Iraq, was spent at the "ranch" learning at the knee of one Richard "Dick" Marcinko. She served with him and his trusty band of malcontents all over the world, engaged in everything from foreign gov't requests for otherwise un-obtainable intelligence, to crawling through third world shitholes on "snatch n grab" operations to extract the intelligence needed. The most notable of which, or, at least the one everyone knows about, is the capture of "Nuclear Ali" the Dr. Death who sold nuclear weapon info to anyone with money to spend. After several years of house arrest, he was allowed to leave his home. Bad move. Within 24 hours of the house arrest removal, he was on a "lil bird" being piloted by the MEANEST Woman Janelle had ever seen. Known only at "Trace" she was a mix of American Indian and, apparently, a 1/2 mad wolverine. Bound, gagged, hooded, and drugged, he was found 1 day later, with a 1/2 empty bottle of mad-dog 20/20 by his side, underneath the G.W. Expressway in D.C. Only after his NCIC was run did the D.C. police realize who they had on their hands.