At one of the outdoor cafes Alison could see Jovan sitting at a table. The sunlight reflected off his bald head and she could imagine his small, beady...eyes eagerly pouring over every woman that walked in or out of the café. Looking every bit the part of a Balkan mobster, dressed in an ill-fitting suit that looked like it hadn’t been dry cleaned in a month, he had a bottle of cognac in front of him, a cigarette in one hand, and his cell phone in the other. Sitting along side him were several. She reached down and grasped his scrotum in her hand. "I'm going to squeeze hard enough to cause you considerable pain if you don't answer our questions or if you lie. Rest assured, we will know if you lie." What is the address of your headquarters?" Fuck you, Bitch!"That engendered a squeeze and a twist, not enough to do any damage, but enough to hurt significantly. Naturally, the man screamed in pain. She repeated the question, and this time got an answer.I commented, "Oh, my goodness, you. More

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