The Poi Predicament

by Lyle Christie

  I had one final move as the icing on the cake of his undoing, and, as he wavered ever so slightly back and forth, I stepped forward, rotated, and delivered a full power right spinning back kick to his solar plexus that sent him flying violently backward and onto the floor. It likely cracked his sternum and, more importantly, put him officially down for the count. Now, as placated and docile as a sleeping baby lamb, I zip tied his hands and feet and left him lying on his side in order to make sure that he didn’t choke and die on his own bloody vomit, as Frank would surely need a roommate in prison. One down, hopefully one to go.

  I performed a quick sweep of Rex and the room to make sure I didn’t leave behind anything useful or dangerous that Rex might utilize if he woke up, and, with everything officially clear, I moved back to the stairs and began my final descent. Upon reaching the bottom level, I slowly opened the door and discovered a large dimly lit basement. In the middle there were a number of large steel shelves and occupying them were file boxes. Just beyond them I could see light emanating from the other side, and so I continued on past to a large open space. On one side, Frank was sitting at a desk behind a large computer screen while in the middle were the women, and all of them looked exactly as they had on the monitor. I waved, and all their eyes slowly turned to me, and I held a lone finger up to my lips to make sure they didn’t stir. As long as Frank held on to that phone, we were all in extreme danger. I slipped closer to the ladies and pondered cutting all their zip ties so that they could get up and quietly leave but unfortunately discovered that all of their feet were shackled to a long line of chain that was bolted into the floor. Apparently, Frank and Rex had thought of everything.

  I therefore needed to take care of Frank first, but that would entail crossing the room as silently as possible, so that he didn’t see me before I could get ahold of that fucking phone. I crept forward on the balls of my feet and controlled my breathing and beating heart, and while the distance was only feet it felt like miles. Thankfully, Frank was engrossed in his computer and oblivious to my presence, as he typed away and looked at the various screens, spreadsheets, and websites. To the right of the keyboard, and only inches from his hand, was the phone he had brandished earlier. There it was. My Holy Grail and the key to the end of this entire mess. With my eye on the prize, I continued on, but when I was only twenty feet away, Frank clicked on an icon, and up came a window that showed one of the security cameras views. It was from one of the outside cameras and looked over the main entrance, which was, of course, deserted at the moment. He clicked his mouse yet again, and a new camera view replaced it. I moved ever closer and watched as he continued clicking and cycling through all the views. When I was within a few feet and about to reach for the phone, he clicked once more, and there I was on the screen. Frank instantly grabbed the phone and backed away from the desk, with his expression looking harried and manic.

  “Finn! How in the hell did you find us?” he bellowed angrily.

  “I have a built in asshole detector, and it led me right to you.”

  He looked at the pistol in my hand nervously then held up the phone and smiled as he played his thumb over the green button that activated the bomb.

  “Nothing’s changed. I click this, and they die.”

  “And so will you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Then you too would ultimately die trying to save them.”

  “Of course—so that others may live. That’s my credo.”

  “I must say, Finn, you really have surprised me. I’d heard the story of how you saved John in Afghanistan, but people tend to exaggerate their old war stories. I know I did.”

  “For better or worse, I never needed to, but let’s stay focused on the present, Frank. No one has to die. Let’s be sensible and talk about this and see if we can come to some kind of peaceful resolution.”

  He thought for a moment.

  “Maybe, but first you have to drop the gun, or I swear to god I’ll press the button.”

  “OK, fine just relax, and I’ll set it on the floor.”

  “No tricks!”

  “No tricks,” I responded.

  I set the Beretta down and looked calmly at Frank.

  “Happy?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but I’ll be even happier when you kick it out of reach.”

  I kicked it across the floor, and Frank relaxed and smiled.

  “Wow, you are far too trusting. That was extremely stupid for someone of your supposed intelligence and abilities,” he said, as he suddenly pulled a pistol out of his jacket.

  He walked over and picked up my gun then started moving towards the door on the opposite side of the room, all the while keeping the pistol and his eyes trained on me.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Frank?”

  “Retirement,” he said, smiling.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Who’s going to stop me. I hold all the cards.”

  “I always keep an ace in the hole,” I said, as I slid Rex’s SIG out of my waistband and pointed it right between Frank’s eyes.

  He looked terrified, but he still managed to lift the phone and hold his thumb directly over the button.

  “Don’t do it, Frank!” I yelled.

  “Goodbye, Finn. It certainly wasn’t a pleasure.”

  He pressed the button, and the digital display showed thirty seconds then began counting down. Sweet mother of God. Why can’t it ever be easy? Frank suddenly turned and started running, so I fired a warning shot in the hope that it would slow him down. It more or less worked, because he ducked in behind some metal filing cabinets then managed to fire back. I dove for cover but popped back up and fired yet another warning shot, and it sent him back behind the filing cabinets. A second later, he leaned out and fired his gun repeatedly, and, while his shots were wild, I still took cover behind the shelves. When he ran out of ammo, he took off running, but this time I aimed carefully and winged him in his left leg and sent him sprawling onto his stomach. He struggled onto his feet and continuing hobbling towards the door.

  “Frank, hit the stop button!” I yelled, as I ran over to him.

  He continued on, somehow believing he was still going to get away.

  “Goddammit, Frank!”

  Just as I caught up to him, he turned around to face me, brandishing his phone.

  “I still have this!” he said.

  “It’s over! Stop the countdown.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I reached for the phone, but he turned and struggled like a child trying to keep hold of his favorite toy. I suppose he had a different plan now and had decided that if he couldn’t get away, then he would die killing us all. Fed up with his ridiculous tantrum, I punched him in the stomach, and he released his grip and finally allowed me to take hold of the phone. I hit the cancel button, but the timer kept counting down. Ten, nine, eight…

  “Frank! Why isn’t it stopping!”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Frank. You need to help me here! Why isn’t it stopping!” I said, slapping him across the face.

  “I don’t know. I swear!” he cried out.

  The countdown continued as I furiously hit the button. Five, four, three…

  “I’ll see you in hell, you son of a bitch,” I said, accepting my fate and preparing to die with my greatest failure being that I had let the others down.

  Two, one…

  In a last moment of rage, I smashed the phone into the floor, and the timer screen cracked and froze on the number zero. I turned my gaze to Violet and the others, and my heart was breaking as I waited for the explosion and, in turn, the great beyond. Nothing happened, and I waited some more, imagining the countdown sequence was somehow like a car’s fuel tank and perhaps held a small amount of time in reserve. Still, nothing happened, and, after a full minute, I stood up gingerly and wondered if perhaps the bomb had suffered a glitch and might still explode at any moment. My radio suddenly
chirped, and the noise sent a jolt of fear through my entire body, then, a second later, I heard Beeber.

  “What’s the situation over?” he asked.

  “Roger, what’s the situation?” John chimed in a second later.

  “Yeah, what’s the situation?” Dave also asked.

  “I’m not sure. I recovered the phone and hit the cancel button, but the countdown still continued to zero, so I’m afraid it might still go off at any second,” I said.

  “Oh yeah,” Beeber said.

  “Oh yeah what?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah that makes sense—because we already overrode his phone’s connection and deactivated the bomb, which is why the counter continued to zero.”

  “And just when the fuck did you do that?” I asked with my ire rising.

  “I don’t know—about five minutes ago?”

  “Did you know that I have been fighting for my life and the lives of all your loved ones for the last five minutes and could have desperately used that little piece of information?”

  “Well excuse us for diffusing the bomb.”

  “Wait a minute—what the fuck have you been doing for the last five minutes?”

  There was no response.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “Um—discussing our D&D game.”

  “Remind me to slap both of you across the face right before I kiss you and buy you assholes a drink.”

  “Will do,” Beeber said.

  “OK, all clear. Send in the cavalry,” I said.

  I picked up the Beretta then checked on Frank’s leg wound. It wasn’t serious, so he’d live until he was placed in a nice prison cell, where he would spend his retirement without the luxury he was expecting. I then set about freeing the ladies and fortunately found the key to the leg cuffs in Frank’s desk. I released their ankles, snipped the cable ties holding their hands, then removed the duct tape from their mouths, and the girls, happy to be free, immediately jumped up and encircled me in a massive group hug. John, Corn, and the others walked in at exactly that moment, and, a second later, Beeber’s squeaky voice came over the radio.

  “What’s going on?” he asked excitedly.

  “Well, Finn is being showered with affection from all of our ladies,” Corn responded into his radio.

  “Goddammit! He always gets the girl,” Beeber whined.

  “You mean girls,” John corrected.

  “Fucking Finn,” Beeber said.

  “Excuse me, ladies, but this was a team effort,” John said, in his commanding politician’s voice.

  The group hug broke up, and each girl moved to their respective man, except Rachel, who borrowed my radio in order to talk to Beeber.

  “Don’t worry, I know you helped, Beebsy Deebsy Do,” she said.

  “What did you call him?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” I heard Beeber say over the radio.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call that little pet name nothing,” I said.

  “Thanks a lot, Rachel,” Beebs said, with legitimate dread in his voice.

  Sandra and her contingent of Secret Service came in and took over the scene, and her first action was to come over and talk to us.

  “Well, folks, we can clean up here while you get back to the resort. You have a wedding to plan after all.”

  “Thanks, Sandra,” John said.

  Everyone walked upstairs to the main level and headed outside to where there was a temporary command station set up by the Secret Service. Frank and Rex were just being loaded into an ambulance, and Frank looked over at us with his eyes seething with rage.

  “Get well soon,” I yelled.

  He raised his hand and gave us the finger and held it aloft until the paramedics closed the two back doors. At that moment, Dave came walking up and hugged Violet before turning his attention to me.

  “Dude, I’m still not happy about my Han Job shirt or you dating Violet, but you fucking came through and did a good job—in spite of having been Air Force.”

  “Thanks, Dave, and you also did OK in spite of the fact that you were a pussy-ass Army Ranger.”

  He smiled and we shook hands, though this time no one tried to crush the other’s digits, and that was some serious progress. We all loaded up into the Rothster and headed off towards the resort. A little ways down the road, I looked over at John and smiled.

  “Well, Sasquatch, I guess you’re just going to have to get married and become the president after all.”

  “I guess so,” he said, as he took hold of Jessica’s hand, and the two shared a smile as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

  Violet, meanwhile, reached over and took hold of my hand.

  “I guess you got my signal,” she said.

  “Yeah, and we can all thank you for this happy ending.”

  “No problem, and I’ll be sure to give you one hell of a happy ending when we get back to the resort.”

  “What could be happier than this?”

  “Oh, you’ll see.”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m still here,” Dave said.

  Everyone enjoyed a little laugh, and we continued along in the Rothster, with everyone, except perhaps Dave, feeling pretty damn good about how the night turned out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Holy Fucking Matrimony

  IT WAS YET another beautiful day in Paradise with the sun just overhead and a warm breeze blowing in off of the beautiful blue Pacific Ocean. We were down beside the resort’s private beach beneath a great canopy of tropical flowers, and Corn was to my right, and John was to my left, and all those in attendance were awaiting the arrival of the blushing bride. I pulled out the flask I had prepared for just this occasion and offered John his final drink as a single man. It was Soft Taco Island’s Premium Reserve Rum, and Babineux had brought it all the way from his island distillery just for the occasion. John took a sip, then me, then Corn, and the three of us stood there smiling like schoolboys.

  It was hard to believe we were finally here, considering all the events of this past week. Seven days ago Jessica was accused of murdering her ex-husband, and only two days ago we were finally able to prove her innocence and thwart Frank Williams’s evil plan. Yesterday, John had officially announced that he was running for president, and today Frank, Melissa, Rex, and his men were all officially indicted on charges of murder, extortion, as well as conspiracy and several others. Frank’s son was apparently an unknowing accomplice, as he believed that his special effects work was merely part of an elaborate prank. If that turned out to be true, he would likely survive the legal storm with a simple slap on the wrist.

  Interestingly, it was only now that we could at last put together all the pieces of this veritable poi predicament. Technically, it all started ten years ago when John cancelled his marriage plans with Melissa, but the real catalyst that would set everything in motion was his announcement that he was engaged to Jessica. Realizing his political dynasty was officially never going to happen, Frank and his daughter put into action their plan for ultimate revenge.

  It began with Frank’s knowledge of Jessica’s abortion. As the head of John’s campaign, it was his job to know about any and all skeletons that might creep out of the closet at an inopportune moment, and he used the information to put together a secret blackmail plot. It was easy to lure in Jessica’s douche of an ex-husband Steven Green with promises of a great deal of money, and Steven, at Frank’s insistence, then sent the extortion letter and traveled to Hawaii, thus setting in place the first stone of the pyramid of lies that they would build to undue John’s upcoming marriage and, in turn, his run for the presidency.

  Step two of the plot then took a rather unceremonious turn when Roofie Rudy poisoned the poi. Frank and his team had a very tight timeline to follow and this was an attempt to make sure that all the post wedding festivities ended in a timely manner. No one stayed up late partying when they were metaphorically chained to a toilet by diarrhea. The second part of step two occurred when Rudy dosed Jessica’s drink with Ruphin
ol, and, with Jessica down for the count, the conspirators had all the time they needed for step three, which consisted of constructing an airtight chain of evidence. It started with Melissa dressing as a maid and delivering the cart that was carrying the test-fire chamber. Once in the room, she proceeded to hold a very drugged Jessica’s hand and fire her Beretta into the test chamber in order to ensure a positive gunpowder residue test. Then, Melissa, wearing Jessica’s shoes and sweatshirt, walked through the hotel to Steven’s room, where she stood by as Rex expertly shot a sedated Steven with Jessica’s Beretta—which, incidentally, had been smuggled to Hawaii in a diplomatic pouch carried by Rex himself. So, due to Rex’s expert gun handling, the perfectly placed shot allowed for the bullet to remain intact and create yet another piece of damning evidence.

  With Steven dead, they doused the incriminating sweatshirt in his blood, and Melissa donned it and returned to Jessica’s room, which also explained why none of Jessica’s other clothes had blood spatter. The conspirators then departed, and Rex went out and placed the gun in the designated spot on the reef where Danny Keahi would find it in the coming hours. Lastly, Frank made a call to the Governor, who, as it turned out, had no idea he was actually helping to facilitate murder and extortion. With everything in place, the conspirators sat back and watched as their evil plot unfolded perfectly to plan, but, unfortunately for Frank and his team, humans were imperfect creatures, and their failings, however subtle, made their plot unravel piece by piece.