Progress at last! Dave took another swig of the diet cola Weasel had snuck in to him when Warthog was away. Warthog had decided during their past few hours together that Dave and he should be health buddies so would not let him order a soda with the pizza Molly had ordered in for them. Turned out, for a devious little lunatic she wasn’t half bad. She talked tough, but Dave was starting to see why Warthog and Weasel stuck around. She’d even downloaded multiple software programs for Dave to use.

With the proper tools he was making good headway through the stacks of company paper work piled on the corner of his desk – and it really was a desk this time – next to a large window that looked down on the inner working of the compound. Dave still couldn’t believe that the sixteen-year-old girl was the head of such an organization.

Dave tapped a few more figures into his latest spread sheet. The door swung open with a bang. Weasel backed into the room jostling a pair of legs in wearing red jogging shorts. Warthog carried the torso of the young man who belonged to the shorts. The kid was out cold.

Warthog frowned when he saw cup marking Dave’s betrayal of an agreement he’d never actually agreed to.

“Set him here,” Weasel grunted.

They dropped the jogger onto a small hard couch that was pressed up against one wall. The jogger groaned. Dave caught a glimpse of his face for the first time.

“Is that Tyler Rift?”

Warthog beamed. “You’re an Tyler Rift fan!”

“I’m not, but I have a twelve-year-old granddaughter.”

Kylee had made grandma and grandpa listen to several songs by the pop star and had even suckered them into taking her to one of the artist’s concerts. It was loud.

Warthog’s face fell. “Oh.”

“The boss requested a private concert tonight, so we thought Tyler here could hang out with you until then.”

“I don’t think-“

The door locked with a loud click. Dave was left alone with the pop star who was starting to shake his befuddled head.

“What happened to me?”

Dave turned back to his computer, after all the sooner he straightened out the accounts the sooner he could go home. “You were kidnapped – I’m guessing while you were out jogging — by two thugs who work for a crazy sixteen-year-old girl who wants you to sing for her tonight.”

“And who are you?”

“A guy who was kidnapped this morning by the same two thugs to straighten out the financials of this evil corporation that is run by the same teenage girl who likes your music.”

He ran around and pounded on the door for a while. Formulating plans to escape. Dave continued working. Finally, Tyler sat down with a huff. After a minute he started pacing.

“Can you sit still for one minute?”

“Sorry I’m just not used to having nothing to do.”

Dave swiveled in his chair. “Are you any good at algebra?”