I’m just going to help you be who you already are” was my typical response. I don’t make anyone do anything. As human beings we have the ability...to chose. Now guilt, shame, obligation, honor, fear, other emotions, and hormones can make us do things we feel we can’t control. Just because I’m going to treat you like the filthy cum slurping sissy faggot in the bedroom, does not mean you are unworthy of some basic respect as a human outside of the bedroom. Circumstances don’t make us who we are,. I think this place has a basement too.”I yelled up the stairs, “This is a Federal Marshal warrant service operation. Come down the stairs with your hands in the air if you want to live. Anyone with a gun in their possession will be shot.”Treasury men arrived and two Agents ran up the stairs while I was hollering for them to stop. The first Treasury Agent to enter the hallway was shot, forcing him backward as his armor saved him. Two FBI men were going to follow the two up, but decided to stay. Skip's room had been tossed thoroughly. Everything had been dumped on the floor, probably while looking for something under the drawers. My bet was whoever did it was looking for the disk that Skip had waved around. I personally thought there was something more important on it than a dirty story. And judging from the disaster in Skip's room they hadn't found it. De Luca and his people were starting to look for prints and other forensic clues when I left for dinner. Hopefully the ship's search. He noted her knees primly pressed together as she faced him, her fingers twitching nervously in her lap."So you arrived on site — out of hours, without your pass, to return some files?" Yes, Mr Nelson." She lowered her eyes, feeling her face redden. "I'm sorry, I forgot my pass. It's in my handbag — at home." Her gaze rose to meet his, "And if I can just say, I didn't refuse to sign the visitor's book. I didn't have the opportunity. I was being asked to sign the book when we were interrupted by.