Devlin's Defiance: Book Two of the Devlin Quatrology
Page 22
“No.”
“Yup.”
Rosemary looked down, trying to read the writing, but finally just pulled it off and held it out, examining it closely.
“No, that's right.”
“Gotcha,” Gordy said, chuckling.
“Oh, you sneak,” she said, laughing. “Well, now it's your turn.”
“No problem,” Gordy said, pulling his T-shirt up over his head. “Ah, symmetry again.”
“I do like symmetry.”
“How about counterpoint?”
“That, too.”
“And hyperbole?”
Rosemary giggled.
“Oh, don't like my pronounciation?”
“It doesn't rhyme with 'bowl.'”
“I'll bet you don't think 'epitome' rhymes with 'dome,' either, do you?”
Rosemary's giggle turned into a chuckle.
“So if I were to say 'the epitome of hyperbole,' you'd think that'd be wrong, too, right?”
Rosemary's chuckling turned into a full-blown laugh.
“Oh, Gordy, you have got one weird sense of humor.”
“Glad you like it, ma'am.”
“Surprisingly, I do.”
“So what are you gonna do about that?”
“Guess.”
“Um – okay; you're gonna ask me to put the plates in the sink and then get into bed with you.”
“The plates can wait. C'mon.”
- 110 -
February 6, 2013
11:38 a.m. local time
Aboard Defiance
In the Gulf of Aden
Jake was awakened from a light sleep by the captain's voice on his walkie-talkie.
“What is it, Captain?” he asked, glancing at his watch.
“We've got another fast boat heading our way. It got past our radar; must have some kind of stealth technology to deflect our beam. It's very close.”
“From the Somali or Yemeni side?”
“Yemeni. I've sent a drone out. But I think you need to come up here, sir.”
Jake ran up from the foredeck to the bridge, leaving Pam lying on her lounge, studying her journal and a stack of files.
Captain Zander stared intently at the screen relaying the drone's observations, continuing his running commentary.
“Sir, he's got a Stinger. Aiming it our way now – wait, where did that come from?”
“Where did what come from? What happened?”
“The whole boat just exploded!”
Jake looked over the captain's shoulder. “Couldn't be any survivors from that, could there?”
“Definitely not, sir.”
“Did we fire that?”
“No, sir, not us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir, I'm sure. I can double check with the FCO, if you want.”
“No, Captain; if you're sure, that's good enough for me.”
“I'm sure. But I think we ought to go up on the hydros, get out of here fast. There may be others that our radar can't see.”
“Sounds good to me. Sound the horn and let's do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And keep me posted; I'll be back down on the foredeck with Pam.”
“Will do, sir.”
Jake returned to the foredeck, where Pam was looking over the rail to where the attacking boat had been decimated.
“Okay, Pam, we're going up on the hydros. Brace yourself.”
As they held onto the rail, three blasts of the horn echoed across the entire ship. A moment later, the yacht lurched forward and up, then settled in on the hydroplanes, nearly doubling its speed as it passed the eastern tip of Somalia off to the starboard side. Jake and Pam both breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“Well, Pam,” Jake said as they settled back onto their lounges, “anything else you're finding in there?”
- 111 -
February 7, 2013
5:17 a.m. local time
Bonita Springs, Florida
Gordy awoke from a deep sleep as Rosemary gently shook his shoulder.
“Gordy, Gordy, wake up.”
“Wha- – whe-” –
“You were dreaming again, talking in your sleep.”
“Wha- – I was? Where-” –
“It's okay. You're right here in my condo. You're safe.”
“Who” –
“It's Rosemary, Gordy. Remember?”
“I – Rosemary?”
“Uh-huh. I'm right here.”
“Oh, Ro, uh, Rosemary. I was” –
“Dreaming, Gordy. You were having that nightmare again.”
“Oh, geez.”
“And flailing and thrashing. You almost pushed me out of bed.”
“Oh, geez; I'm sorry, Ro.”
“No problem. But you've never done that before. I got scared.”
“Scared? Of me?”
“No, for you.”
“Oh, geez, Ro; I'm sorry.”
“No, no, no; it's okay.”
“Not if I scared you, it's not.”
“Let me get you some water or” –
“Did you say I was talking in my sleep? Or did I dream that, too?”
“No, I said that, and you were.”
“What did I say?”
“Um, you – uh, first you said, 'I've been kidnapped,' and then, uh, 'Sorry 'bout that, Charlie,' then – oh, geez, I don't – oh, yeah – 'No, no, Charlie, stay right there.' And there was something else. I – no, it's gone. Who's Charlie?”
“He was one of the fake FBI guys, the old, fat one. But” –
“But what? Gordy?”
“Uh – nothing; it's gone. Anything else?”
“Um – oh, yeah. You said, 'You buttered your bread; now lie in it. Now, that's a mixed metaphor,' and then – wait – you said – ah, you said, 'We'll make do,' and then 'Just don't make it twice.' And then you mumbled, 'Guess that proves the truth of that old song. Waking up is hard to do.' What did all that mean?”
“I don't know. Weird.”
“Hmm. Well, maybe you'll figure it out sometime. But for now, how about you try to get back to sleep? You kept me up pretty late last night.”
“I kept YOU up? I think you've got that backwards.”
“Ah, there's the Gordy I know.”
“And love?”
“And love.”
“Me, too – I mean, backatcha, Ro.”
- 112 -
February 7, 2013
11:54 a.m. local time
Llanrhaeadr-ym-Mochnant, Wales
About noon, the desk clerk, concerned at the unexpected absence of a certain male guest, who had enjoyed a spectacular solo meal in the hotel's lounge the previous evening and usually was up and about by 8:30 at the latest, rang his room and, getting no answer, went upstairs, knocked and finally used his master key to enter the room.
He was not at all pleased with the condition of that certain male guest, which he confirmed when he found no pulse and which was later confirmed by the local doctor and by the Welsh equivalent of medical examiner.
The investigation was begun by the local constabulary, at which point one of the four regional Welsh police offices took over jurisdiction, who were then ousted from the investigation by Interpol, since the deceased, whose autopsy determined the cause of death to be a massive hemorrhagic stroke, was discovered to be a fugitive money launderer for a variety of terrorist organizations. In the final analysis, despite the rarity of strokes in 43-year-old males, and due primarily to negative tox screens, the COD was ruled to be natural causes, so no criminal case file was opened. However, 47 criminal case files in twelve different countries were closed.
- 113 -
(Author's note: This chapter contains some profane and politically incorrect language, but it accurately reflects the actual words that the speaker used. I apologize on her behalf to anyone who is offended; she, of course, will not.)
March 1, 2013
10:08 a.m. local time
Bonita Beach, Florida
“You're doing fine, Norm. Now try just a little faster.”
“I don't know; I don't want to damage anything.”
“Don't worry about it; it's not like open heart surgery. You can play around a little.”
“Oh, thanks; you just gave me a flashback.”
“Sorry. But seriously, you're doing fine.”
“Okay, okay. Here goes. Whoah!”
“Yeah, it's delicate. Just a tiny tweak. Ah, there you go. See?”
“Oh, okay. I think I got it.”
“Good, good. Yup, doing fine. Now, how about let's see if you can say hi to Janet, okay?”
“Okay. Hmm. Slower, slower, forward, forward, slower, stop. Okay, now what?”
“Now just slide that back a little so it comes down a little.”
“Like that?”
“Great, perfect. Now say 'Hi, Janet.'”
“Hi, Janet.”
Janet giggled and said, “Hi, Norm,” and waved.
“Now – oh, I don't know – ask her if she wants to give it a try.”
“You wanna try it, Jan?”
“Nah, you go ahea- – oh, okay. Looks like fun.”
“Okay. C'mon over. Now what, Gordy?”
“Just bring it back here. Think you can do that on your own?”
“Let's find out. Okay, speed up, lift, good. Wait, how do I make it turn?”
“That dial next to the joystick.”
“Oh, right; got it. Turn, good. Stop. Okay. And now I just push the joystick forward? Ah, good. And here it comes; good. Stop, hover, slower, slower … and down.”
“Nice landing, Norm. You've got it now.”
“Cool toy, Gordy. Thanks.”
“Boys and their toys,” Janet said, giggling.
“I know, I know,” Gordy said, smiling. “Your turn.”
“Okay; ready. What do I do?”
Gordy explained the joystick, thumbwheel and dial on the control box and turned it over to her.
A few moments later, he ducked out of the way as Janet sent the drone flying just over his head, then had it do a loop-the-loop, a barrel roll, brought it back to hover right in front of Gordy's face, and finally set it down in a perfect landing on the sand at his feet.
“My god, Janet! You're either a natural or you've had some pretty solid training somewhere.”
“Oh, just, ah, grandkids and video games,” she said, shrugging and giggling, giving the control box back to Gordy.
“Ah, I guess that would do it. Okay, time for a break. I can see Rosemary's getting antsy.”
“Little wonder,” Janet said. “You boys have been playing with it for over an hour.”
“That long, really?”
“Really.”
“Oh, geez. Time does fly when you're having fun.” He picked up the drone, turned off the power and headed back to Rosemary and his lounge.
“Sorry, Ro; we got lost on the time.”
“No big deal; you looked like you were having fun.”
“A lot more than when I crashed my first one.”
“Yeah, you were a little out of your depth there.”
“Uh-oh.”
“What? Oh.”
“Just like that goddamned, shit-eating, cock-sucking fuckin' nigger President.”
“Sonya! Watch your language! You're in public.”
“Well, he is, Gordo, way out of his depth; he's a fuckin' amateur. Gonna run this country right into bankruptcy, giving all those fuckin' freebies to all his fuckin' nigger buddies. Shit!”
“Sonya, can it!”
“And it's all the fuckin' Jews' fault. Goddamn Israel is running this whole cock-sucking country! And that nigger is just lyin' down in front of 'em and can't do nothing about it. Fuck!”
“Sonya, I said can it! Shut up!”
“Oh, Gordo, you're just one big blind wuss, can't see the forest for the trees and what's really going on, who's really in charge.”
“Sonya! Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Do you understand that?”
“Okay, okay. But you just watch. You just watch. You'll see.” With that, she walked on by, put her foot in the water for an instant, then turned on her heel and stalked back up to her towel and her husband, glaring at Gordy as she passed.
“Wow! She's on a roll today.”
“Got that right, Ro. Not sure what got that started. Heard it all before from her, but not with that, ah, intensity. Jesus.”
“She is pretty outspoken.”
“Not by anybody I know.”
“Very funny. Someday she's gonna use that kind of language with the wrong people and get herself seriously hurt.”
“Probably. But that would just give her more ammunition.”
“Yeah, I'm sure.”
“Maybe someday I'll put some superglue in her lipstick.”
Rosemary laughed. “Oh, if you do, let me watch.”
“Too bad she and Ron don't talk to each other at all.”
“Why?”
“'Cause he's a total Obamabot, absolutely worships the guy, and to watch them go at each other? I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that.”
“Hey, maybe you could use your drone.”
“Hmm. Interesting. May be.” Gordy looked up at the clear blue sky. “Just kidding, NSA. Just kidding.
“But if you think about it, Ro, she and he are typical of one reason this country is going down the tubes. Polarization, demonizing and shouting, almost zero rational discussion of serious issues.”
“Lot of anger in her.”
“Anger and aggression, makes it easy to manipulate people. And it's built in, instinctive.”
“That's a shame.”
“Oh, I'm not saying it's good or bad; it's just there, and it can be exploited so easily. Even back to high school sports teams; the old us-versus-them brainwashing.”
“It goes back even further. Sibling rivalry.”
“Yup. And you know what actually bothers me about the current President?”
“His policies?”
“In part. But it's his training as a lawyer, the adversarial mindset that makes him always have to find or create an enemy to do battle against, and not work toward consensus. That 'My way or the highway' thing. And his anti-business prejudice, another example of that mindset. All to get him and his party re-elected. Geez – oh, sorry 'bout that; soapboxing again.”
“Getting your blood pressure up to normal?”
“Yup – nope, not quite there. Close.” He leaned back on his lounge and closed his eyes. But only for a moment.
“Jesus, Gordy, what was that all about?”
“Just another Sonya rant, Sharon.”
“She's really wound up today. Did you hear her earlier ranting about the Pope resigning?”
“About what?”
“Oh, didn't you hear? The Pope resigned yesterday.”
“Really? No, I hadn't heard. Wow. Why?”
“No reason given, far as I know. But Sonya was saying it's 'cause he's part of the gang that's protected all those pedophile priests.”
“Hmm. I'll have to check that out when I get home. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Sure. See ya later.”
“Take care, Sharon.”
“Wow. The Pope resigned?”
“That's what she said, Ro.”
“So now we're gonna have a whole month of that black smoke, white smoke media blitz.”
“Yeah, I – uh-oh.”
“What?”
“Hope the new one isn't named Benedetto.”
“Why do you say – oh, right.”
“Right.”
- 114 -
March 30, 2013
10:24 a.m. local time
Aboard Defiance
In the Gulf of Oman
“Yeah, Wes, we'll be docking in Muscat in the next week or so, and have it all cleaned up by the first for the charter. Yup, no problem. We can fly out of there back to Tropez or Nice, and see where
we go from there, if anywhere. I know Pam likes the villas.
“And, thanks for getting the mockup of her FDR car done so fast; it looks great. But I think if we add something to the back that slides out when it's going fast, that'll help with the aerodynamics. Right. Yeah, but no rush on that.
“And how's the bird deflector design process coming along? Ah, that's good. When are you gonna test those? Okay, fine. Just keep me posted.
“And you should know that the effective range on the DK-587 is about 95 meters. Sorry; again, I can't tell you how I know that. I know, I know. I'd like to see if we can get it up to a couple hundred, with no additional spread, but still fit in the current carrying case. Maybe doubling the wattage and designing some longer lenses? Oh, I'm sorry; longer waveguides. Oh, okay. More focused waveguides. Just see what the R&D guys can do, okay? And keep me posted on that, too.
“And how are things going with Doctor – oh, what's his name? Frenchensteiner, right. Our guys getting any more out of him beyond what Greg and Julie did? Yeah, they tell me it works, but I can't believe that. It just doesn't make sense to me. Right, the paradox. But my main question is this. Do you and your guys think he poses any danger of sabotage or anything like that if we give him back to the client? No, I don't. All I know is that Becky thought there was something hinky about him and how he got the gun away from that big guy who was guarding him; his story doesn't add up, she said. I think we just need to keep on him, maybe bring in the interrogators and see what they come up with. Yeah, those two'll do fine.
“Oops; gotta run. Amber's calling. Okay. You, too. And hi to Amy, okay?
“Hey, Amber, what's up? Anything new on the florist? Aw, shit; too bad. How many? Only fifteen? Hmm. Any pattern? Okay. I'll let Pam know. How are we doing on getting bugs in his house or office? Yeah, I know. Do we have anything that can't be found by the sweeps? Well, maybe we oughta do some R&D on that. Okay; see what they can up with, okay? And send me any new files you've got.
“Also, we'll need to keep an eye on that doctor Wes has. Yeah, him. He's bringing in Rona and Joel, so let them know we'll leave it up to them as to how much danger he might pose, and whether to turn him back over or terminate him. Right. Okay. What else?