by Jake Devlin
“Wait, wait. What the hell is all that, Pam?”
“What is what, Jake?”
“Predicting the Internet and cars and conspiracy theories back in … when? … 638, almost 1400 years ago.”
“Gotcha,” Pam said, smiling sweetly and batting her dazzling blue eyes at him over her sunglasses.
Laughing, Jake said, “That you did, Pam, that you did. Bravo.”
“Just like you got me with the zombies in the White House.”
“But I took that out before the book got published.”
“No, you didn't; you said you would, but it's still in there.”
“Really? I thought I took it out.”
“Nope; it's there, right at the end of … wait one.” Pam picked up a well-worn copy from her loungeside table and leafed through it briefly.
“Ah, there it is, the end of Chapter 98, Page 271. And then your promise is at the beginning AND the end of Chapter 99.”
“Really? Let me see that.” He set down the papers he'd been reading from and took the book Pam offered, looking intently at the pages she'd indicated
“Oh, geez, you're right; it is in there. Shit, I really screwed that up. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to break that promise. Goddamned Quarterheimer's.”
“Oh, don't worry about it, Jake. I got a chuckle out of it when I read it.”
“Guess I didn't proof it all that well.”
“Oh, you did fine.”
He set the book back on the table and lay back on his lounge, closing his eyes, but with his brow wrinkled.
Pam leaned over, gently rubbing his shoulder with one hand and with her other hand holding her index finger and thumb about an inch apart on his cheek and whispered in his ear, “How about we go belowdecks for a while? I'm getting hot out here in the sun.”
Jake opened his eyes, smiled and said, “You certainly are. And yup, I'd like that.” Then he chuckled. “Lady Licia? Got it. Delicious.”
They got up from their lounges, slipped on their coverups and flip-flops and headed down from atop the bridge and across the hot deck, Jake humming the Bolero as they went.
- 57 -
December 9, 2012
10:08 a.m. local time
Bonita Springs, Florida
“Authentication 0000002. Hey, Amber. Is he available? Yeah, I'll hold.”
“Hey, Gordy.”
“Hey, Jake.”
“What's up?”
“Got a little challenge to deal with. I got subpoenaed yesterday for a hearing before some Senatorial subcommittee on the 18th, and I'm concerned. First official contact.”
“Hmm. So soon? That's quicker than I woulda ever expected. The book just came out in September.”
“I know. And I've read it maybe thirty times, so I've been able to fake it with civilians pretty well so far. But senators?”
“Oh, they're dumber than most civilians. Remember the Guam guy?”
“Yeah. But he was in the House and incredibly stupid.”
“I remember,” Jake said, laughing.
“These are gonna be senators, most of 'em career types. So a lot more arrogance and ego.”
“You got a list of who's gonna be there?”
“Yeah; it's on the subpoena.”
“Can you shoot that over to me? I've got an idea.”
“I'll send you a copy of the whole subpoena.”
“Great. I'll send you some stuff back that should take care of it. No worries.”
“What kind of stuff?”
Jake told him.
“Oh, cool. That should work.”
“Good. Anything else going on back there?”
“Ah, let's see. I met an actual Sergeant Tom Dooley from Collier County.”
“Wait, wait. I checked that; there wasn't one.”
“He's new, came over from Miami after the book came out.”
“Ah. Is he upset about his name in the book?”
“I don't think so. He was gonna get a copy and see. Haven't heard anything from him since. That was about a month ago.”
“Well, we'll deal with that if and when. Anything else?”
“Let's see. Ron and Jenny are back, and Ron's still Ron.”
“I doubt he'll ever change; immature asshole. Anything else?”
“Ah – oh, yeah. I met this guy named Derek and his family last week.”
“Derek? Cool name.”
“Yup; figured we might want to use it in the sequel.
“So I asked him if it'd be okay to do that, and he -- now, he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer … by a long, LONG shot -- he looked over at his wife. She shrugged an okay and he nodded.
“So I asked him if he wanted to be a good guy or a bad guy, hero or villain, and his wife immediately said, 'Make him a villain.' So I said, 'Okay, I'll make you an assassin,' and he looked at his wife, who nodded and smiled.
“And then I asked him, 'Any particular method of assassination you'd prefer?' And I gotta tell ya, Jake, watching him think was the second most painful experience I've had in my whole life, felt like it went on for an hour, but it was only maybe ten seconds, and finally he mumbled, 'I dunno, maybe a gun?'”
“That's it? 'Maybe a gun?'”
“Yup. But his 12- or 13-year-old son piped up and said, 'Oh, Dad, that's so boring. How about' - and I watched the wheels spin in his brain, maybe half a second - 'how about chopsticks?'”
“Chopsticks?” Jake chuckled.
“Yup; out of the mouths of babes, huh?”
“Got that right; I like it. I'll see if I can use it.”
“Cool. And this Derek dufus also thought Toronto was the Lone Ranger's sidekick.”
“No, really?”
“Really.”
“Oh, Pam'll love that. I gotta put that in somewhere. Anything else?”
“Let's see. Ever heard of a 3D printer?”
“Sure; got one on board, had it installed about a month ago.”
“Cool. Ever thought about making it 4D?”
“You mean like time shifting?”
“Yeah; Paul had that idea at Marti and Dave's party last night.”
“Was he drunk?”
“Yeah.”
“He gets some cool ideas when he is; hmm.”
“But that's sorta skee-feeish, dontcha think?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So I didn't think we were writing science fiction.”
“I'm not.”
“Right; I mean you're not.”
“Don't know. You should see the fantasy thing Pam just wrote and pulled on me.”
“Fantasy?”
“Yeah, swords and horses and swell foops and” –
“Swell what?”
“Foops, a fast, hard swing and slash with a sword.”
“Wait, foops? Swell foops? I've heard of fell swoops, but” –
“Oh, geez, she got that one right past me,” Jake said, laughing. “Swell foops; geez.”
“Not much gets past you, not since Sydney in '72.”
“Oh, don't remind me of that. Still got the scar.”
“Sorry.”
“I hope you're sorry about messing around on that job in Ballarat, too.”
“Yeah; Rosemary was here with me, got me distracted. Sorry.”
“Good; apology accepted. Anything else?”
“Nope; I think that's it for now. How's it going over there on the boat?”
“Had one attack, but we managed to stop it. No casualties on our side.”
“Good. I guess that's it from here. Tell Pam hello for me.”
“Will do. Can't wait to tell her about Toronto, too,” Jake said, laughing.
“Yeah; she'll love that,” Gordy replied, then began to hum the “William Tell Overture.”
Jake laughed. “Wonder if Pam'll like that better'n the Bolero. No, wait, that's more JJ's style.”
“Or maybe Canada'll make it their new national anthem.”
Jake laughed harder. “Good one.”
“So long,
Jake.”
“See ya, Gordy.”
Gordy ended the call, returned the satphone to its cradle and fired up his PC to scan and send the subpoena. Then he went upstairs and lay down, lulled to sleep by the heavy rain outside.
- 58 -
December 11, 2012
5:17 p.m. local time
Maldonado, Uruguay
“Sure you're up for this?”
“Yeah, I'm sure.”
“I've heard the second one is the toughest.”
“I know, I know. But I'm on top of it, really.”
“Just don't tense up when it comes down to it.”
“Okay, okay, okay! Geez, Linda, have you ever seen me tense up when it counted? Ever?”
“Well, uh, Tokyo, October.”
“Oh, come on; I didn't tense up.”
“No, no, not when you took the shot. But with the customs guy at the airport.”
“Oh, that; it didn't show, did it?”
“Maybe not to him, but I could tell.”
“Well, geez, I was hoping the sealant worked and nothing broke loose.”
“Wayne, the whole thing was filled with sealant, same stuff they used on Hoffa back in '75; nothing coulda broken loose.”
“I know, I know. But I was worried.”
“You worry too much. It was all secure. Really. And it got on the flight with no problems, didn't it?”
“Yeah, yeah. But he was mighty curious. And when he brought out that mallet and started tapping on it, especially on the belly – yeah, you're right; I did tense up.”
“Well, he was concerned that it might be a real artifact, not the replica that it was. They have strict export controls.”
“I know.”
“And it made it to Hawaii and the client with no problem, right?”
“Right.”
“So there was nothing to worry about.”
“In hindsight. But at the time” –
“At the time, I was doing just fine with him, but you almost blew it.”
“Did not.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Di- – uh-oh, here he comes.”
“Where?”
“Just coming out, the fat guy with the full cart.”
“Okay, got him; video running. Geez, was he gonna eat all that?”
“Probably in one sitting.”
“Geez; no wonder he's over 300 pounds.”
“At least he can't walk too fast.”
“A shame to let all that food go to waste.”
“Yup.”
“587 all warmed up?”
“Yup; all set.”
“Wait till you've got a clear shot; no collaterals.”
“I know. Now let me focus.”
“Okay, okay. Just” --
“Shh.”
A moment later, customers leaving the supermarket and other passersby began screaming, crossing themselves and running away from what remained of a large male whose body had begun bloating and then exploded, sending bits of flesh, bone and bodily fluids flying through the air. The cart he had pushed out from the store was flung into a parked car six meters away, two hands still clenched around the handle.
“Perfect shot, Wayne.”
“Yup. Let's get outa here.”
Wayne collapsed the micro DK-587 and packed it into its case, slinging it over his shoulder, while Linda checked the hallway outside the office and wiped the doorknob down.
“All clear. Go, go, go,” she whispered, and Wayne ran through the door and down the hall, Linda right at his back, the door to the office closed and locked behind her, no trace of their unauthorized use remaining.
Three flights down, they took a breath before opening a door and walking casually through it, merging unobtrusively with the crowds enjoying the museum's latest exhibits of local artists' paintings and photography.
Half an hour later, well away from the city, Linda dialed a number on her satphone.
“Authentication 3789054, encryption on. Hi, Amber. It's done. We're on our way to Montevideo and then Buenos Aires. What? No, it worked fine; no spread, no collaterals, less than two seconds to explosion. And the waveguide only got lukewarm. Right, Wayne?”
“Right.”
“Yeah, no problems there. Want me to send the video now or can it wait till we get to the hotel in BA? Okay, fine. I'll give you a buzz when we get there. Anything else we need to do? Okay. Buzz ya later.”
“You okay, Wayne? Want me to drive?”
“Yeah – no – well, I don't think I'll ever get that picture out of my head.”
“At least we don't have a body to dispose of.”
“Yeah. I don't think our guy could cast a Buddha that big.”
“But he could probably just seal him up, coat him in bronze and put the statue in a park somewhere.”
“Like Hoffa.”
“Yeah.”
“But fatter.”
“Yeah.”
“Lots fatter. Did you see how that guy bubbled and then just blew apart?”
“Yeah.”
“Incredible, absolutely incredible.”
- 59 -
December 15, 2012
10:47 a.m. local time
Bonita Beach, Florida
“It's incredible, Dallas, absolutely incredible.”
“Glad you like it, Gordy.”
“Me, too, Dallas, but I have one suggestion.”
“Okay, Rosemary; I'm open.”
“Well, you know that Pam and Jake are in love, right? I didn't see their intimacy and trust in there so much. It was very erotic, but just sort of, uh, physical, mechanical, clinical. Are those the right words? Know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Don't get me wrong; it's incredibly good, super erotic. Just reading it gave me a lot of – ah, you know.”
“Orgasms?”
“Oh, dear. Uh, yeah,” Rosemary said, blushing. She looked at Gordy and said, “Not as intense as with you, of course.”
“But pretty damned good, huh?”
“Yeah, Dallas, pretty damned good.” She blushed again.
“And JJ? He's not in love with her.”
“No, he's not,” Gordy said. “He likes her, and her personality both scares him and intrigues him, and this is a going-away party for her, so he goes along with it. But he'd probably prefer just spending his time with Pam.”
“But he does get excited at the prospect,” Rosemary said.
“Every man's secret dream, right, Rosemary?”
“Right, Dallas.”
“Hey, girls, I'm sitting right here – well, reclining, actually.”
“Sorry, Gordy. Just girl talk.
“Anyhow, I think I know what you're looking for, and it's no big deal at all for me to add that.”
“But without toning down the eroticism.”
“Of course not, Rosemary; that may even heighten it. And it'll be fun for me to play with that. In fact, I just had an idea on how to do it.”
“Really? How?”
“It's just fuzzy now, Gordy, but I can flesh it out pretty easily.”
“Cool. But again, no rush; don't mess up your holidays on it, okay? I'll be out of town for the next week, probably, and Ro'll be gone until after Christmas, and we've got lots of time after that, too. So no rush, okay?”
“Works for me. I've got a deadline on my new novel on January 15th, but I'm ahead of schedule on that. This'll be a piece of cake, really, and we'll be in touch along the way, okay?”
“Great. And thank you so much, Dallas; it means a lot to me.”
“And to me,” Rosemary added.
“Cool. But now I've got to run; another appointment again.”
“Okay. See ya.”
“Bye, Gordy. Rosemary, again, feel free to call anytime.”
“Thanks, Dallas; I will.”
As Dallas headed out to the lot, Rosemary said, “Gordy, you know I'd rather be with you in DC than up in Chicago with Kevin.”
“I know,
Ro, but he needs your help with that closing.”
“Yeah. What a mess. Damn those unions and the politicians.”
“And not only in Chicago. Look at all that 'fiscal cliff' nonsense in DC. Two weeks to go before the sequester and those idiots – all of 'em, both sides, in Congress AND in the White House – are more concerned with bashing the other party than solving the country's problems.”
“Too bad Donne was only fictional. His policies probably woulda worked.”
“Yeah, I think so. But with you and Kevin, anything I can do to help?”
“You keep asking that, but I think I can get it all worked out.”
“Well, anytime you want anything from me, just call, okay?”
“Okay, and thanks. But for now, I just want to lie back and soak up some more sun.”
“Okay. Me be quiet.”
- 60 -
December 15, 2012
9:17 p.m. local time
Aboard Defiance
In the Gulf of Aden
“Hey, Amber. What's up? Really? Another? Where are they all coming from? I know, I know. Nobody? Okay, okay, yeah. Who's the target? Really? Geez. And who's the client? No kidding? He's a tough sonofabitch. Where and when? Really? The 18th? No, I can make it; the monsoon's let up. But I'll have to leave early tomorrow; another one's on the way. So have the helo – oh, I'll check with Pam, see if she wants to come along; I think she's ready for a second one. In either case, we'll use one of the small jets; no need for a big one. Eight o'clock? Great. Talk with you in the morning.”
- 61 -
December 18, 2012
11:27 a.m. local time
A Senate Hearing Room
In the Hart Senate Office Building
Washington, DC
“You understand, sir, that you are under oath?”
“I do, Mr. Chairman.”
“Please state your name for the record.”
