Child's Play td-23 Read online




  Child's Play

  ( The Destroyer - 23 )

  Warren Murphy

  Richard Sapir

  The government's Witness Protection Program has been hitting a bit of a snag lately. Despite their brand new secret identities, certain loose-lipped mob stoolies are getting blown away by a group of gun-toting adolescents. And in an effort to save face, a big-mouth Army bigwig's been pointing the accusing finger at the wrong assassins - Remo Williams and his mentor, Sinanju master Chiun! There's a new kind of "baby boom" going around. And before he plays dead for a bunch of homicidal half-pints, the Destroyer is going to nip the poisonous peewee pandemonium in the bud!

  ***********************************************

  * Title : #023 : CHILDS PLAY *

  * Series : The Destroyer *

  * Author(s) : Warren Murphy and Richard Sapir *

  * Location : Gillian Archives *

  ***********************************************

  CHAPTER ONE

  The left arm came sailing over the schoolyard fenceā€¦ without a body on it. The left leg skittered into a sandbox, where the blood pumped out of the thigh stump and onto a rubber play shovel. There were no sharp edges on this yellow shovel the size of a large serving spoon because it was guaranteed by the National Parental Council as "child safe." In the playground of the Fairview, Oklahoma, Country Day School there was also no left side of Robert Calder.

  Jimmy Wilkes and Katherine Poffer remembered that was the side on which Mr. Calder had been holding the "froobie."

  "Tell the men what a froobie is, Katherine," said the nurse in the infirmary of the Fairview Country Day School as two men in polished cordovan shoes and neat gray suits with white shirts and striped ties took notes on a small tape recorder. They had told the Fairview County Sheriff's office they wanted to talk to the children first, and afterward the sheriff could get all the information he needed. He had complained that homicide was not a federal crime but a state crime, and if the Justice Department wanted the assistance of the Fairview County Sheriff's Office, they should tell him what the hell was up. Especially since November was four months away and while they had assured jobs, an elected county official sure as hell didn't, and one hand washes the other if the FBI knew what the Fairview County Sheriff's office meant. They did, and they didn't want him talking to the children first.

  So Katherine Poffer, seven, explained to the two FBI agents what a froobie was.

  "It's nice," said Kathy.

  "Tell them what it does, dear," said the nurse.

  "It's like a frisbee. It's plastic, only it squiggles if you get it right," said Jimmy Wilkes, six.

  "She said me. She said I should say what a froobie is," said Katherine Poffer. "It's like a frisbee only it squiggles," Kathy said with righteous triumph.

  "Now when did the bang happen?" asked one of the agents.

  "Me or Jimmy?" said Katherine Poffer.

  "Either one," said the agent.

  "When he threw it, sort of," said Jimmy.

  "Sort of?"

  "Yeah. Like the froobie was up at his ear, like a quarterback ready to throw."

  "Yes," said the agent.

  "He was left-handed," said Jimmy Wilkes.

  "Yes."

  "And then, wow, boom," said Jimmy, his hands going out to show a big explosion.

  "You didn't see half of him at all," said Katherine Poffer.

  "A leg went in the sandbox, and there's no going in the sandbox during afternoon recess," said Jimmy.

  "Did you see who brought the froobie to the schoolyard?"

  "Nobody brought it. It was there," said Jimmy.

  "Somebody must have brought it," said the agent.

  "The new boy maybe brought it," said Katherine.

  "Some grownup," said the agent. "Was any grownup standing near the schoolyard?"

  "The ice cream man for a while," said Jimmy. The two agents went on with the interview. They had talked to the ice cream vendor already, and he had seen nothing. He was also not the kind of person to withhold information. This wasn't Brooklyn, where people stuck their noses behind doors and kept them there for their safety. This was heartland America, where if a strange dog wandered into town, everyone knew and was willing not only to talk about it but to tell you if it was a Communist dog or a Mafia dog. This was pin-clean small-town USA, where everyone not only knew everyone else but talked about everyone else. And no one knew who had killed Mr. Calder and while everyone was downright glad to cooperate with the FBI-"We're on your side, fellas"-no one knew who had planted the bomb. And what was the FBI doing here in Fairview anyway? This wasn't a federal crime, you know. Was Mr. Calder a secret spy?

  No, ma'am.

  Was he a secret scientist?

  No, sir.

  Was he a big Mafia cappucino who split with the family?

  No, sir.

  Was he a hit? He was a real live hit, wasn't he?

  Well, ma'am, we believe that his demise was, so to speak, intentional.

  That's for dang sure. Folks don't blow up by accident.

  Yes, sir.

  So here they were, talking to little children about froobies and bang bangs and sand boxes, while other agents went around picking up pieces of the man called Calder from the schoolyard.

  "Anything else?" said the agent.

  "He went like a ladyfinger. Bang. You know how ladyfingers blow up when you light them," said Jimmy.

  "Ladyfingers are firecrackers. They're against the law. I never used them," said Kathy Poffer. "Jimmy used them a lot though. Jimmy and Johnny Kruse and Irene Blasinips. She showed herself to the boys, too. I know that."

  "And you took extra cookies before nap," said Jimmy, turning in his playmate to the FBI. But the FBI did not seem interested in firecrackers or who showed what to whom, just Mr. Calder who was new to the town and had gone bang like a ladyfinger with some of him left, like those little firecrackers that never quite went all up.

  There was something else, too, Jimmy remembered, but no one would be interested in that. They wanted to know about the bang, not about the new kid who wouldn't let anyone play with the froobie but just hung around sort of, and when Mr. Calder came by, called out to him and seemed to know him because he called him Mr. Calder.

  "Mr. Calder, they say you can throw a football, but I bet you can't throw a froobie," the new kid had said.

  And everyone had watched Mr. Calder take the froobie, while the new kid had backed away to the other side of the schoolyard as Mr. Calder raised the yellow plastic froobie to his ear, just like the football players did when they wanted to throw footballs like grownups. But when the froobie was ready to go, bang.

  And Mr. Calder was only partly left. Outside the infirmary, the strangers were still examining the area for the sprayed pieces of Mr. Calder. Lights came on, and there were television cameras, and everyone was talking about how hard it must have been on Jimmy and Kathy to see such a horrible thing at their ages, so Kathy started to cry, and since Kathy was crying and everyone said it was horrible and since Jimmy's mother was hugging him as if something horrible had happened, Jimmy started to cry, too.

  "The poor babies," said someone, and Jimmy couldn't stop crying. All this over Mr. Calder, who went up like a little firecracker with some of him left.

  The two agents caught the nightly news on television as they went over their day's notes. There were the two children, crying away before the television cameras. The schoolyard. And Calder's home.

  "A modest home on a well-kept street," said the announcer of the local television station.

  "Well kept, you can bet," said the agent who had questioned the children. "We had both sides and the front of the house covered. And the backyard ne
ighbor was a retired Marine." He blew air out of his mouth and went over the notes. Somehow, apparently in the children's toy, a bomb had been smuggled in. But then why did Calder play with it? How had it happened that a child hadn't grabbed it first and blown himself up, instead of Calder?

  How did anyone even know the subject was in Fairview? He had changed his name to Calder when his children were only babies, so they never knew his real name. No one at the factory where he was assistant purchasing agent knew his name. The agent at the plant had kept an eye on that.

  No stranger had entered Fairview. No stranger could have entered Fairview without the whole town knowing about it-that was why Fairview had been chosen. Everyone in this town talked. Gossip was the major industry here. That, and the single manufacturing plant.

  The agent in charge of the investigation had also been in charge of picking the town for Calder. He had been careful about it. As the district director had told him, keeping the man called Calder alive was a career move:

  "If he lives, you have one."

  That blunt. That final.

  Calder was just one of seven hundred government witnesses hidden away each year by the Justice Department. Seven hundred. Not one in the last ten years had been uncovered until he was ready for trial. This was necessary because as the Justice Department closed in on the mobs around the country, the mobs had started to fight back in their traditional way.

  Good lawyers could occasionally discredit a witness in a courtroom, but the mobs had long ago found out that the best way to get rid of a troublesome witness was simply to get rid of him. During the twenties, a government witness against a racketeer signed his death warrant when he signed a statement. A secretary, a witness to a shooting, a thug who wanted to turn state's evidence-the mob would get them, even in jail. And righteously, defense counsel would get the signed statement thrown out of court because the witness's death had denied him his right to cross-examine.

  So about ten years ago, the Justice Department had a good idea. Why not give the witnesses new identities and new lives and keep them absolutely secure until the trial? Then, after the trial, give them another life and watch them a while to make sure they were safe? And it had worked. Because now witnesses knew they could testify and live.

  So the man called Calder had thought.

  The phone in the motel room where the agent was staying rang. It was the district director of the FBI.

  The agent wanted to speak first.

  "As soon as I finish my report, you can have my resignation."

  "Your resignation won't be required."

  "Don't give me the official bullshit. I know I'm going to Anchorage or somewhere I can't live because of this thing."

  "You don't know that. We don't know it. I don't know it. Just continue your work."

  "You can't tell me that the agent who loses the first government witness in ten frigging years isn't going to get canned. C'mon, I'm not Bo Peep."

  "You're also not the first. We lost two others this morning," said the District Director. "This whole thing may be coming apart."

  In a sanitarium called Folcroft on Long Island Sound, giant computers received the details of the Fairview incident and the two others. Because of the designs of these machines, the printouts could only be gotten at one office. It had one-way windows, a large sparse desk, and a terminal which could be operated only through a code. The Fairview incident was the last to clack out of the machine. A gaunt man with a lemony face read all three reports. Unlike the district director in Oklahoma, Dr. Harold W. Smith did not think ten years work might be falling apart. He knew it was.

  CHAPTER TWO

  His name was Remo and the hotel guest wouldn't let him go. Was Remo aware that he and his Oriental friend probably produced an incredible amount of Theta waves and functioned to a great degree at the Alpha level?

  Remo didn't know that. Would the guest please pass the salt?

  The guest was sure that Remo and his elderly Oriental friend functioned at these states, otherwise how could Remo explain yesterday. How?

  The salt.

  Certainly, the salt. There was no other explanation, said Dr. Charlese, Averill N., as in Averill Harriman except he wasn't related to the wealthy and famous railroad family, just a poor parapsychologist trying to let people know of the great powers locked within humanity. He had a card:

  Dr. Averill N. Charlese

  President

  Mind Potential Institute Houston, Texas

  He had come down to Mexico City, where the America Games were now being held, to prove his theory. Not that it really needed proving, because it was a fact. Fact. People producing Theta waves could perform what appeared to be incredible feats.

  Remo suddenly saw a small chart cover his breakfast of white rice and water. There, in blue and red and green and yellow, was an ascending "rainbow!" Yellow, at the top, was the conscious level of the mind, and darkest blue was the deep Theta state.

  Remo looked around for a waiter at the El Conquistador, a large modern hotel built like a simulated Aztec temple, with waiters in Aztec-type print smocks, surrounded by very un-Aztec Muzak.

  "If I'm bothering you, let me know," said Dr. Charlese, a pudgy man in his mid-thirties, with a crown of brownish gold hair gleaming like a helmet fashioned by hot comb and lacquer.

  "You're bothering me," said Remo, who folded the chart and put it in Charlese's gold plaid jacket.

  "Good. Honesty is the basis for a good relationship."

  Remo chewed a few kernels of rice until they were liquid, then he drank it into his stomach. He eyed a roast beef, sliced thick and fatty and red, being served at a neighboring table. It had been a long time since he had had a piece of meat, and his memory hungered for it. Not his body, which now dictated what he would eat. He remembered that the roast beef used to be good. But that was a long time ago.

  "I knew yesterday you were something special," said Dr. Charlese.

  Remo tried to remember an incident the day before that might have inflicted this lacquer-headed sparkler of positive thought on him. He could not. There was nothing special the day before, just resting, getting sun and, of course, the training. But Charlese couldn't have been able to tell the training from a nap. Which was what it appeared to be, because at Remo's level of competence, his body had long ago achieved its maximum. He was now working in the limitless frontiers of his mind. Anything more he would learn to do, he would learn in his mind, not in his body.

  Charlese opened the chart again, and moved the rice away, explaining that this was his only chart and he didn't want to get food on it.

  Remo smiled politely, took the offered chart and, starting at the top left corner, tore it diagonally across. Then he tore the two remaining pieces into four, then the four into eight. He put them in Dr. Charlese's open mouth.

  "Fantastic," said Dr. Charlese, spitting the confetti of his chart. A corner with a blue Theta on it landed in the center of Remo's rice. Enough. He rose from the table. He was a thin man, about six feet tall, give or take an inch, depending on how he used his body that day, with high cheekbones and eyes that had a central darkness of limitless, weightless space. He wore gray slacks and a dark turtleneck shirt. His shoes were loafers. As he left the table, the eyes of several women followed him. One sent back a green and yellow Montezuma parfait when she looked at her husband after looking at Remo.

  Dr. Charlese followed him.

  "You probably don't even remember what you did yesterday," said Dr. Charlese. "You were by the pool."

  "Leave," said Remo.

  Dr. Charlese followed him to the elevator. Remo waited until the door was just closing before he entered. The elevator was a local, making several stops before the fourteenth floor. When it reached the floor, Dr. Charlese was there smiling.

  "Positive thinking. Positive thinking," he said. "I projected the elevator not to make stops."

  "Did you do your projecting while standing in front of the buttons?"

  "Well, as a matter of
fact, yes," said Dr. Charlese. "But it never hurts to help the projection of a positive image. A human being can do whatever he imagines he can do. If you can imagine it, you can do it."

  "I'm imagining that you're leaving me alone," said Remo.

  "But my imagination is stronger, and I'm imagining that you're going to answer my questions."

  "And I'm imagining that you're lying on the carpeting of this hallway with your mouth a mess of broken teeth so you cannot ask questions."

  Dr. Charlese thought this quite humorous, because he was imagining Remo telling him the secrets of his power. Remo smiled slightly and was about to show Dr. Charlese how a snapping right hand could overcome any thought, when Dr. Charlese said something that made Remo stop, made him want to know about this man's theories.

  "Breathing is the key," said Dr. Charlese. "I know that. Breathing is the whole key to control of those vast reaches of your mind. Did you know that the chart I gave you was nylon mesh? No one could tear it with his hands."

  "Would you explain what you're talking about?"

  "I had only one copy of that chart. I carried it with me. I didn't want it destroyed so I had it hand-painted on strong nylon mesh, reinforced with steel strands. Something like a steel-belted tire. And you tore it up like it was paper."

  "I'm trying to piece this thing together. What do you know about breathing?" Remo asked.

  "Yesterday, I saw you by the pool. With the Japanese man."

  "Korean. Never call him Japanese," said Remo.

  "And I saw you do it. I timed it."

  "What? Nobody can tell when I'm exercising."

  "Your diaphragm gave you away."

  "How?"

  "It didn't move. I watched your breathing slow down and then your diaphragm didn't move. Not for twenty-two minutes and fifteen seconds. I have a stopwatch. I time everything."

  "Can we talk somewhere privately?"

  "I've been sort of evicted from my room. But I'm projecting that someone else will pay the bill."

  "No, no. I'm not interested in your projecting. I want to know about breathing," said Remo.

  "I knew you could tear that chart when I saw your breathing control."

 

    Acid Rock Read onlineAcid RockKill or Cure Read onlineKill or CureDeath Therapy Read onlineDeath TherapyChinese Puzzle Read onlineChinese PuzzleMafia Fix Read onlineMafia FixMurder Ward Read onlineMurder WardBrain Drain Read onlineBrain DrainSweet Dreams Read onlineSweet DreamsKing's Curse Read onlineKing's CurseSlave Safari Read onlineSlave SafariOil Slick Read onlineOil SlickUnion Bust Read onlineUnion BustDeadly Seeds Read onlineDeadly SeedsHoly Terror Read onlineHoly TerrorMurder's Shield Read onlineMurder's ShieldSummit Chase Read onlineSummit ChaseThe End of the Game td-60 Read onlineThe End of the Game td-60Death Check Read onlineDeath CheckDeadly Seeds td-21 Read onlineDeadly Seeds td-21Union Bust td-7 Read onlineUnion Bust td-7Shock Value td-51 Read onlineShock Value td-51Ghost in the Machine td-90 Read onlineGhost in the Machine td-90Date with Death td-57 Read onlineDate with Death td-57Fool's Flight (Digger) Read onlineFool's Flight (Digger)Infernal Revenue td-96 Read onlineInfernal Revenue td-96Brain Storm Read onlineBrain StormCoin of the Realm td-77 Read onlineCoin of the Realm td-77The Empire Dreams td-113 Read onlineThe Empire Dreams td-113Walking Wounded td-74 Read onlineWalking Wounded td-74Blood Lust td-85 Read onlineBlood Lust td-85Fool's Gold Read onlineFool's GoldMarket Force td-127 Read onlineMarket Force td-127Lucifer's Weekend (Digger) Read onlineLucifer's Weekend (Digger)Firing Line td-41 Read onlineFiring Line td-41Blood Ties td-69 Read onlineBlood Ties td-69Time Trial td-53 Read onlineTime Trial td-53Next Of Kin td-46 Read onlineNext Of Kin td-46When Elephants Forget (Trace 3) Read onlineWhen Elephants Forget (Trace 3)Feeding Frenzy td-94 Read onlineFeeding Frenzy td-94Holy Terror td-19 Read onlineHoly Terror td-19Power Play td-36 Read onlinePower Play td-36The Wrong Stuff td-125 Read onlineThe Wrong Stuff td-125Spoils Of War td-45 Read onlineSpoils Of War td-45Timber Line td-42 Read onlineTimber Line td-42Lost Yesterday td-65 Read onlineLost Yesterday td-65By Eminent Domain td-124 Read onlineBy Eminent Domain td-124The Ultimate Death td-88 Read onlineThe Ultimate Death td-88A Pound of Prevention td-121 Read onlineA Pound of Prevention td-121Dead Letter (Digger) Read onlineDead Letter (Digger)Terror Squad Read onlineTerror SquadBottom Line td-37 Read onlineBottom Line td-37Created, the Destroyer td-1 Read onlineCreated, the Destroyer td-1Ground Zero td-84 Read onlineGround Zero td-84Murder's Shield td-9 Read onlineMurder's Shield td-9Encounter Group td-56 Read onlineEncounter Group td-56The Last Alchemist td-64 Read onlineThe Last Alchemist td-64Shooting Schedule td-79 Read onlineShooting Schedule td-79Troubled Waters td-133 Read onlineTroubled Waters td-133Voodoo Die td-33 Read onlineVoodoo Die td-33Killing Time td-50 Read onlineKilling Time td-50Kill Or Cure td-11 Read onlineKill Or Cure td-11Profit Motive td-48 Read onlineProfit Motive td-48Fade to Black td-119 Read onlineFade to Black td-119Disloyal Opposition td-123 Read onlineDisloyal Opposition td-123Oil Slick td-16 Read onlineOil Slick td-16Look Into My Eyes td-67 Read onlineLook Into My Eyes td-67Last Call td-35 Read onlineLast Call td-35High Priestess td-95 Read onlineHigh Priestess td-95Death Sentence td-80 Read onlineDeath Sentence td-80Brain Drain td-22 Read onlineBrain Drain td-22Child's Play td-23 Read onlineChild's Play td-23An Old Fashioned War td-68 Read onlineAn Old Fashioned War td-68Wolf's Bane td-132 Read onlineWolf's Bane td-132Smoked Out (Digger) Read onlineSmoked Out (Digger)Acid Rock td-13 Read onlineAcid Rock td-13Ship Of Death td-28 Read onlineShip Of Death td-28Mugger Blood td-30 Read onlineMugger Blood td-30Sue Me td-66 Read onlineSue Me td-66Rain of Terror td-75 Read onlineRain of Terror td-75Cold Warrior td-91 Read onlineCold Warrior td-91Syndication Rites td-122 Read onlineSyndication Rites td-122Mob Psychology td-87 Read onlineMob Psychology td-87Bloody Tourists td-134 Read onlineBloody Tourists td-134Death Therapy td-6 Read onlineDeath Therapy td-6Mafia Fix td-4 Read onlineMafia Fix td-4Hostile Takeover td-81 Read onlineHostile Takeover td-81Killer Chromosomes td-32 Read onlineKiller Chromosomes td-32King's Curse td-24 Read onlineKing's Curse td-24Last Rites td-100 Read onlineLast Rites td-100Bidding War td-101 Read onlineBidding War td-101Angry White Mailmen td-104 Read onlineAngry White Mailmen td-104The Head Men td-31 Read onlineThe Head Men td-31Political Pressure td-135 Read onlinePolitical Pressure td-135Once a Mutt (Trace 5) Read onlineOnce a Mutt (Trace 5)In Enemy Hands td-26 Read onlineIn Enemy Hands td-26Remo The Adventure Begins Read onlineRemo The Adventure BeginsLast War Dance td-17 Read onlineLast War Dance td-17Misfortune Teller td-115 Read onlineMisfortune Teller td-115Skin Deep td-49 Read onlineSkin Deep td-49Unite and Conquer td-102 Read onlineUnite and Conquer td-102Murder Ward td-15 Read onlineMurder Ward td-15Dangerous Games td-40 Read onlineDangerous Games td-40Created, the Destroyer Read onlineCreated, the DestroyerThe Final Crusade td-76 Read onlineThe Final Crusade td-76Summit Chase td-8 Read onlineSummit Chase td-8The Final Reel td-116 Read onlineThe Final Reel td-116Dying Space td-47 Read onlineDying Space td-47Assassins Play Off td-20 Read onlineAssassins Play Off td-20Pigs Get Fat (Trace 4) Read onlinePigs Get Fat (Trace 4)And 47 Miles of Rope (Trace 2) Read onlineAnd 47 Miles of Rope (Trace 2)Bloodline: A Novel Read onlineBloodline: A NovelUnnatural Selection td-131 Read onlineUnnatural Selection td-131Judgment Day td-14 Read onlineJudgment Day td-14Line of Succession td-73 Read onlineLine of Succession td-73Midnight Man td-43 Read onlineMidnight Man td-43The Last Dragon td-92 Read onlineThe Last Dragon td-92Total Recall td-58 Read onlineTotal Recall td-58Balance Of Power td-44 Read onlineBalance Of Power td-44Sole Survivor td-72 Read onlineSole Survivor td-72The Sky is Falling td-63 Read onlineThe Sky is Falling td-63Survival Course td-82 Read onlineSurvival Course td-82Death Check td-2 Read onlineDeath Check td-2The Seventh Stone td-62 Read onlineThe Seventh Stone td-62Deadly Genes td-117 Read onlineDeadly Genes td-117American Obsession td-109 Read onlineAmerican Obsession td-109Slave Safari td-12 Read onlineSlave Safari td-12Bay City Blast td-38 Read onlineBay City Blast td-38Sweet Dreams td-25 Read onlineSweet Dreams td-25Feast or Famine td-107 Read onlineFeast or Famine td-107Chinese Puzzle td-3 Read onlineChinese Puzzle td-3Chained Reaction td-34 Read onlineChained Reaction td-34The Final Death td-29 Read onlineThe Final Death td-29Brain Storm td-112 Read onlineBrain Storm td-112Getting Up With Fleas (Trace 7) Read onlineGetting Up With Fleas (Trace 7)Father to Son td-129 Read onlineFather to Son td-129Dr Quake td-5 Read onlineDr Quake td-5Lords of the Earth td-61 Read onlineLords of the Earth td-61Trace (Trace 1) Read onlineTrace (Trace 1)The Color of Fear td-99 Read onlineThe Color of Fear td-99The Last Monarch td-120 Read onlineThe Last Monarch td-120The Eleventh Hour td-70 Read onlineThe Eleventh Hour td-70Engines of Destruction td-103 Read onlineEngines of Destruction td-103The Arms of Kali td-59 Read onlineThe Arms of Kali td-59Killer Watts td-118 Read onlineKiller Watts td-118Terror Squad td-10 Read onlineTerror Squad td-10Target of Opportunity td-98 Read onlineTarget of Opportunity td-98Arabian Nightmare td-86 Read onlineArabian Nightmare td-86Waste Not, Want Not td-130 Read onlineWaste Not, Want Not td-130White Water td-106 Read onlineWhite Water td-106Dark Horse td-89 Read onlineDark Horse td-89Return Engagement td-71 Read onlineReturn Engagement td-71Last Drop td-54 Read onlineLast Drop td-54Prophet Of Doom td-111 Read onlineProphet Of Doom td-111Blue Smoke and Mirrors td-78 Read onlineBlue Smoke and Mirrors td-78Air Raid td-126 Read onlineAir Raid td-126Failing Marks td-114 Read onlineFailing Marks td-114Bamboo Dragon td-108 Read onlineBamboo Dragon td-108Terminal Transmission td-93 Read onlineTerminal Transmission td-93The Last Temple td-27 Read onlineThe Last Temple td-27Identity Crisis td-97 Read onlineIdentity Crisis td-97Funny Money td-18 Read onlineFunny Money td-18Master's Challenge td-55 Read onlineMaster's Challenge td-55