She ignored the bite of the icy north wind as it swirled a mixture of frozen rain and snow about her, and her skimpy red costume offered little protection in this kind of weather.  Of course, she needed little protection from the weather because since her transition from mortal woman to agent of the Sisterhood, she was far more than human, and this climate that was fit for man nor beast was less than a distraction to her.  She had been ignoring the bone chilling numbness for over three hours now, but she kept her vigil, for she knew that her mark would come this way. 
   The wind whistled and howled over the roof top where she had taken up her position.  The wires stretched between the buildings around her hummed with energy and sang with the vibrato of plucked strings.      Suddenly, she spied her target as he rounded the corner at the end of the street. 
   As usual, he was 'snockered'.  Of course, that would give her the edge in their transaction. She sought information, and Gallileo knew everything that went on in this putrid city.  When he got closer, she jumped from the roof of the building where she had kept watch. From four stories up, a full 44 feet, she plummeted like the proverbial rock.  But, powerful leg muscles cushioned her fall, and she did a 'punch front' and forward tumble to come to a halt directly in front of the little man she sought.
   Wide eyes starred at the scantily dressed woman, and through his stupor, the little fellow recognized the woman before him.  He couldn't have been more frightened if a Bengal tiger had leapt out of the darkness at him, for he knew, even in his befogged state, that this woman was more dangerous than any tiger that ever lived.     
   Gallileo used to be a scientist.  He had been a forensic pathologist for this great city of lights, but corruption in city hall had forced him to alter his findings in several cases, cases that dealt with a local crime family.  He could not stand what he had become, and he could not tolerate his lack of courage in dealing with the issues that he had found in the local government. 
   He found that he could find a warped kind of peace, and solace, in the bottom of a whiskey bottle.  He had lost his job because of his boozing, and then he had lost his self respect, and now, he lived on the street, but his mind was still sharp, and he always kept his ears open.  On occasion, he earned enough as a snitch to his former police associates to lose himself in drink for months at a time.     
   The sleek woman moved in a pantherish blur, and twin blades sank into the soft flesh of the man's neck.  Thin trickles of blood seeped out of the nicks the blades caused when the timid man flinched in fear of this aggressive she demon.  The woman then gently drove the man backwards until his back was to the wall of the nearest building. 
   She then began her interrogation.  "Gallileo, my friend, there has been a theft, you know the one I speak of, no.  It involves a very old clock.   But it also involves the safety of this entire city, and even the safety of this entire region."     
   "Yes." Gallileo said, "I know of this theft, and I have heard the name of the rogue who performed this heinous act. It is the Whispering Wind that you seek.  He is at the Hotel LePierre, in the penthouse."     
   In just a few short minutes, minutes that seemed like eternity to Gallileo, the woman had learned everything she wanted to know.  She reached into her belt and withdrew a roll of bills, and she pressed them into the man's hands.
   She admonished him by saying, "Do use the money for a room, and a hot meal or you will answer to me."  He would have used the money for rum if it had come from anyone but this woman, but he knew from past experience that she would track him down if he misused the funds she had given him.  That kind of hassle was not worth the few blissful hours of inebriation in a bottle, so he pocketed the money and headed for the nearest local roach motel where he would splurge on a room with heat and running water till the money ran out.
   The same powerful leg muscles that had cushioned her fall launched the athletic form of the woman back to the roof.  From there, she moved from building to building, in a riotous display of gymnastics that would have been the envy of every Olympian who had ever participated in the game.  She was a fluid blur of motion as she traversed the distance from her encounter with Gallileo to the location of her true quarry. 
   It was as she  suspected, the thief who stole the Glockenspiel Cuckoo was Baron Dieter vonKlench, called the Whispering Wind.  He was one of the greatest, if not the greatest, thieves on the planet.  The woman had crossed swords, literally, with the crook before.  She thought he had perished in a deadly fall into the river when she had thwarted his attempt to steal some of the mementos of Shakespeare at his theater at Stratford on Avon.  He was one of that rare breed that stole, not out of need, but for the sporting exhilaration of it, and he had apparently been prepared for any eventuality, including storing an under water escape vessel in the river in case of emergencies. 
   In all probabilities, if she left him alone, in a few weeks, the   Glockenspiel would be returned mysteriously by mail to its owner.  Only this time, there was no time, for the Glockenspiel held a dark secret, one that even the Whispering Wind was unaware of.  The owner of the clock had installed a failsafe feature in the clock that would allow it to be traced wherever it was taken, but by sheer coincidence, the access code radio frequency he had used was the same one used to activate several Soviet nuclear warheads, and if the clock was not found within a seventy-two hour time frame, the missles would  launch and use the tracking signal of the clock as a homing beacon. 
    As soon as the former Soviets realized that there was a situation in the making, they had contacted Interpol, who in turn contacted T.E.C.H. (Tesla Enlightenement Center for Humanity), and Sister Serenity (Co-head of T.E.C.H. security) contacted the Sister closest to the last known location of the clock, Sister Passion.
   Passion was the best person for this job in a lot of ways.  She not only was closest, but she knew this city like no other, and she had a gut instinct about who the perpetrator might be.  She had lost four hours waiting for confirmation from Gallileo, and that meant that from the first instant of contact between the clock and the warheads, more than 42 hours of the seventy two had elapsed. 
   Now, she  approached the penthouse apartment of the Baron.  She had hopes that he would listen to reason, but men like the Baron were usually an unreasonable sort. Passion climbed the walls of the Baron's apartment house with practised ease.  She scaled the full nine stories of the building's exterior in less than three minutes, after she had learned that the access elevator to the penthouse apartment was restricted.
   As she hoisted herself over the parapet of the balcony, she sensed that she was being watched.  She scanned the roof top for any guards, and found instead, the Baron himself.  He was seated at a table with two steaming mugs of cappucino on it.   He looked at Passion and said, "Come my dear, join me for a cup of coffee. I assume you are here to take the Glockenspiel from me, yes."      
   Passion sauntered over to the Baron's makeshift cafe, and sat down.  She noticed that the Baron did not suffer the cold quite as well as she, for he wore a long coat of fox fur with a winter liner in it.   She also noted that a sword case lay on a chair next to him.  She took the steaming mug of flavored coffee in her hands, and for a second, she luxuriated in its warmth.  She sipped on the coffee slowly, measuring the man before her.  She could feel his steely gaze taking her measure as well. 
   She broke the silence, and said, "Baron, there is something about the Glockenspiel that you do not know.  Hidden inside is a  transmitter that is constantly sending out a radio signal that has activated several Soviet nuclear devices, and they are to launch within a day, if I do not find it and turn off the transmitter.  Also, the transmitter acts as a homing beacon for the missles, and if they do launch, then you are at dead center of the target area."     
   The baron replied, "Come now, my dear, even you can't expect me to believe that story.  No, The clock is mine, and I will deliver it to the man who sanctioned my action on the morrow.  Now finish up your cappucino, and then leave me to my muses."     
   "Dear Baron, don't mistake my civility with a lack of determination on my part, for to do so is to court disaster. This threat is real.  One of the Sisterhood was contacted by Interpol who is acting on the behalf of the former Soviet satellite country currently in possession of the missles."
   "Well then, my dear, if you would take the Glockenspiel, then you will have to do so by force, for I shan't give it up peaceably, nor easily, for I have my reputation to defend you know.  If you take it as you probably will, then you must tell that I resisted fully.  Thus my reputation as Europe's premier thief shall remain intact, and unsullied."     
   In the meantime, Passion had finished her cappucino, and she said, "All right then, let's get this over with, shall we?  Have you a choice of weapon?"      
   "Why, I do indeed." the Baron said, and he pulled out a beautiful mahogany sword case from the chair beside him.  He opened the long box, and inside were two of the most beautiful fencing epees that Passion had ever seen."   VonKlench said, "As you my sweet, are my guest, you shall have your choice of weapons."     
   Passion reached into the box and picked up both weapons. She hefted one, and then the other, and after getting the feel of both, she chose the one that felt best in her hand. The Baron had shed his greatcoat while she made her choice. He had on a standard fencing outfit, and he picked up the other fencing sword.  He saluted the fencer's salute, and said, "En Garde!"      Passion answered his salute with one of her own, and then they began.    VonKlench thrust and parried furiously, his vaporous breath growing more tortured, but each of his attacks was met with a flashing repartee.  It was obvious that even though the Baron was a world class fencer, that he was no match for the super human prowess of his opponent.   After several minutes of activity in the frigid night air, Passion, in one swift motion, disarmed her opponent, and she slashed a slight mark on his left cheek.  The cut was just deep enough to leave a permanent scar. 
   The Baron reached up and wiped the trickle of blood from his face.  He looked at it, and a smile spread across his features.  He said, "Ah, you've bested me once again dear lady, and you've given me a delightful reminder of this evening.  Now come, I will show you where I've placed the Glockenspiel."     
   As they entered the penthouse apartment, the Baron instructed one of his housemen to bring them two more cups of cappucino.  He then proceeded to a corner of the room. and pulled up one edge of the carpet.   From a floor safe underneath, he pulled out the Glockenspiel. 
   The intricate design work of the clock's carvings was striking, and Passion could understand anyone's desire to possess such a beautiful treasure.  After the Baron handed her the clock, she opened the back, as she had been instructed when she took this assignment, and quickly found the switch to the transmitter. She turned it off, and she then called the number she had been given to confirm that the missiles had been disconnected from the signal. 
   She then turned back to the Baron, and said, "I wish that I could let you keep this, but you know that I must turn it over to the authorities."     
   "Ja, meine fraulein, but there shall be other treasures, and other adventures.  Perhaps, someday, you and I shall be on the same side, but for now, take a moment, and enjoy another cappucino with me, and tell me more of this Sisterhood you spoke of."