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be of any help.
    These old run-down tenement houses are loaded with DNA 75
    Naked Dragon
    by G.A. Hauser
    from every occupant that lived in them. You think they steam them clean in between?" He laughed sarcastically.
    "Yeah, that was my thought." Agent Skinner held the elevator door open for the other two, then stepped in and pushed the button for the garage level. "This fucker's really getting on my nerves. I hate when they play with us and they keep winning."
    The doors opened to the shadowy parking level. As their leather soles echoed on the cement flooring, Robbie said,
    "He's not winning. What he's doing is killing him as well. He hates himself for it even though he feels the compulsion to keep doing it."
    Agent Green used the remote control to open the car doors and disarm the alarm as he said, "You sound as if you sympathize with this guy."
    Climbing into the back seat, Robbie fastened the seatbelt, then relaxed his legs into a wide straddle. "No. Not sympathizing. Just trying to get into his head."
    Twisting around to give him his annoyed expression, Agent Skinner said, "The least you could do is come up with something to help us. All your speculation hasn't gotten us anywhere. I don't know why they sent you on this case. Who needs a fricken psychic? What we need is a break."
    Pausing until Agent Skinner sat facing forward again as Agent Green maneuvered the car out of the tight parking space and up to the electric gates, Robbie asked, "The wife cheating on you again, Frank?"
    Agent Skinner spun around to glare at him, but didn't deny it.
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    Naked Dragon
    by G.A. Hauser
    Robbie chuckled to himself and rested his head back on the seat as they logged into service and headed for the International District.

    * * * *
Seated on a work-out bench in the west precinct gym, Dave recuperated as he did some quick repetitions to warm up before he moved onto the heavier weights. The music was blaring heavy metal and two other cops were grunting and sweating as they pumped iron. Even with the fans moving the muggy air around, the room was hot and had the distinct odor of male sweat. Once he had warmed up, he loaded up the bar and stared at it for a moment, trying to prepare himself for the effort it would take to lift it off his chest.
    A poster on the wall warned the officers The more you sweat in here, the less you bleed out there . It was enough to keep him strong and fit. In the three years he'd been on the street, he'd never gotten into a fight. He'd helped out other cops control unruly suspects, but no one had challenged him directly. But he wasn't cocky enough to believe that day would never come. Maybe he was lucky. Or maybe he gave off an air of power. He was big. He knew it. A glance in the mirror and he found his six foot two inch height and his two hundred and forty pound frame. Solid muscle.
    Ready for the workout, he lay back, made a good hand hold on the bar with his leather fingerless gloves, and arched his back. Up went the bar with a blast of his lungs, pumped, one, two, three, four, five ... to ten, then he set the bar back and shook out his arms from the stinging pain.
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    Naked Dragon
    by G.A. Hauser
    He sat up, loaded two more ten pound plates on the bar, then relaxed until he felt ready for the next set.
    "Harris," one of the other officers shouted to him over Black Sabbath's Iron Man , "If you need a spot, just ask."
    Meeting the man's eyes, Dave nodded, wondering how he knew his name, because he didn't know this cop's name. His face yes, his name, no. "Thanks. I'm not going too heavy.
    Just some reps, but thanks." He rubbed his hands together, lay back and did eight more. After he set the bar down, he didn't sit up right away. A flash of Robbie's body completely naked raced through his brain as if someone had turned on a movie screen for a moment.
    He checked his watch. It was too early for him to be on another murder scene. Mr. Dragon-maniac seemed to enjoy the late afternoon. Maybe it was intentional to