Rosalba Emanuel-King is an Artist, Fashion Illustrator, Designer, and Assistant Professor at The Fashion Institute of Technology where she has taught Fashion Design Art and Illustration for twenty years specializing in Eveningwear. She has written a Fashion Design course based on Conceptual Thinking, incorporating The Future of Fashion & Fabrics, Suiting up for NBC Survivalist Warfare, Textural Healing and Millennium Madness, among others.

This novel was inspired by her husband, Dr. Douglas King and is a testimony of her devotion to him. His philanthropic activities are prolific. As Director of Forensic Odontology for the New York Army Guard, he was one of the forensic experts working on identifying the victims of TWA Flight 800 plane crash in 1996. D. King’s life almost parallel’s that of the character of Jim Hunter, only Dr. King’s life is much more dangerous since he races horses.

Dr. Douglas King is now dedicated to Anti-Terrorism as the founder of First Responder Education Corp where he is currently involved as an educator of Nuclear, Biological and Chemical Warfare and Weapons of Mass Destruction.

Dozens of white tables were blotted with blood. Corpses waited to be identified. Tags were hanging from victim’s toes. Most bodies were still intact. First class had made it practically in one piece. There were burns and scorched flesh evident on the bodies. Parts of scalps were seared from the blast.

Many of the victims were decorated with medals of honor, pieces of silver metallic armored projectiles sticking out of their bodies like war shrapnel. Victims’ eyes were protruding from their skulls in terror. Mouths agape, screaming in tormented agony at their final moments of hell.

Making a discovery DR. L.B. Reid snugly remarked to Jim, "It looks like their eardrums have been sucked out with a vacuum cleaner. Internal injuries are evident from blood seeping from the corners of their mouths." to which Jim replied, "Well if you fell 13,000 feet out the sky you’d have internal injuries too."

Dr. Hunter examined the bodies of the first victims recovered; his sense of foreboding suddenly turned to a sickening feeling in his gut.

Jim took a break from the morgue, got into his car and drove out fifteen miles from the Medical Examiners office to the retrieval site where the Coast Guard station was, a small area surrounded by a cyclone fence.

On the way to the site were three security checkpoints. The area within the fence was filled with tents and trailers from all cooperating agencies and their divisions.

The parking lot was a makeshift helicopter pad with tents and trailers near a dock with two boats, one from N.Y. Police Dept. Harbor Unit, one from the Coast Guard.

Jim watched as the procession of bodies and plane parts were placed onto the trucks. He went out for a bite at a local restaurant where the press had its headquarters. Jim listened in amazement as he overheard reporters relay false accounts to the news media.

"Rescue ships are being filled with body parts and shark mutilated victims recovered from their watery dance macabre. The scene at the morgue is cluttered with dismembered corpses. It looks like a grotesque Clive Barker Movie." This reporter knew he'd get the front page.

While sitting outside he was quickly joined by news reporters. They noticed his tee shirt read "Suffolk County Medical Examiners Office." A crowd immediately gathered around the table to get first hand information of what was going on in the morgue.

"Tell us what's going on at the M.E. office Dr. Hunter! Why is the ID taking so long?" One reporter demanded.

Jim tried to clarify their confusion.

"There are no bags filled with body parts at least not yet, and no bodies burnt beyond recognition, and none with signs of shark attacks. Even though the bodies are not in pieces, soft tissue identification is impossible.

Very few if any bodies recovered show signs of an explosion originating from the plane, but rather from an external source. And there are also reports of a cabin cruiser in the vicinity with what could be..." Stopping himself, he quickly said, "Three other cruisers were also in the vicinity...

The bodies are covered with glitter and seem to have been drenched in jet fuel...almost as though..." Catching himself, he realized he shouldn’t divulge any more information.

Excitedly, a news reporter asked, "What are you implying, Dr. Hunter? Do you think it was a missile that downed the T.V.A. flight?"

Another reported anxiously cut in, "Have you found any evidence or residue from a missile?"

Still another, "What about that glitter...What’s that about?

A major TV reporter asked, "Dr. Hunter, do you believe these were Arab terrorists?"

With that Jim realized the can of worms he had opened. "I’m sorry I have to go! I have no evidence at this point!"

The next morning at five a.m. Jim received a phone call from a major television executive,

"Good morning Dr. Hunter, this is Charles Baxter, head correspondent at CNN Cable news. We’d like you to come down to our hotel room in Smithtown to meet with members of our station and the NTSB. You know, a boat was found fitting your description."

"You mean the info I gave you was turned over to the FBI? GREAT! I suppose a new investigation will ensue: who’s Dr. Hunter and where’d he get all this classified information?" Jim hung up, angry at the fact that he was now suspect.