Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Willy Tamarack
Title: Surfers Rule
Part: 10 of 11
Universe:
Summary:
Keywords: (love story, adventure, war viol)
Language: English


***************************************************************************

   @(C) 1996-2015 Willy Tamarack Commercial use in any form requires the
written permission of the author and will ensure a portion of the proceeds
goes to the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML).

   Surfers Rule

   by

   Willy Tamarack

   With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S.  Constitution

   Chapter Twenty-eight

   Ed had flown his A-1 a little out in front and almost directly
underneath the trailing Dragonfly; looking up at him through the top of the
canopy, about three, four thousand feet below him.  Ed smoothly applied
three "g"s and the Skyraider zoomed up under the A-37.  The vertical
velocity indicator was reading over two thousand feet a minute.  He was
through fifteen hundred feet AGL (above ground level) and the A-37 was
still tracking right toward the pipper.  The guy would never know what hit
him.  The laser ranging came alive at fifteen hundred feet slant range and
the pipper settled down as it approached the Dragonfly's nose.

   Ed pulled back on the trigger, counted "one potato, two potato," felt
the aircraft buck as the rounds came out of the cannons in the wings then
let his finger off the trigger.  The rounds were invisible as they streaked
toward the Dragonfly.  Ed only knew he hit him when pieces of airplane
started coming off the A-37 and then suddenly the aircraft pitched down
violently, trailing white smoke.  Ed zoomed up above the dying Dragonfly's
altitude and rolled over on to his back.  He could see the leader well out
in front of him and pulled his nose down below the horizon, attempting to
chase him down.

   "Two's chasing.  Negative overtake."

   "Lead's visual." Craig transmitted then took a quick look up at Ed
before returning to the burning Dragonfly as it broke apart with flames
coming from the main fuselage.  There was no parachute.  The pieces started
landing in the jungle.  He quickly looked forward and found Ed losing the
race with the lead A-37.

   *****

   Randal Hoops exclaimed, "Oh !  Fuck !" loud enough to be heard by all
crew members through their headsets.  He was watching the trailing
Dragonfly burn brightly as it tumbled to earth.  He had sight of the A-1
Skyraider that had shot him out of the sky.  He wanted to turn toward him
but what could he do ?  He'd lost sight of the other Skyraider.

   The first officer was almost standing in his seat, looking out the
windscreen and talking to the Orion.  Randal could hear parts of the
conversation.  "...one down, no chute.  Stand-by." The first officer was
now trying to talk to the liaison officer who was still unable to
communicate with the Dragonflys.  It was a cluster fuck beyond belief ! 
Randal took command.

   "Systems, who do you have locked up ?" The silence lasted more than a
moment.

   Finally, "The same guy...The western guy." Randal looked at the TV
presentation and found subject aircraft was turning south.  He followed and
started down.

   "Make sure you've got the tape on."

   "Tape on, check."

   Just then the lead A-37, about four miles or so in front of them,
started a right turn.  Randal watched in horror and impotence as the A-1,
chasing him, turned across the circle, pulled his nose out in front and
gunned the Dragonfly out of the sky in thirty seconds or so.  The TV
recorded it all, the A-37 starting to spiral towards the ground trailing
smoke in the distance, the two A-1s in a classic shooter cover position,
hawking the fight.

   *****

   Ed couldn't believe his luck.  For no apparent reason, the A-37 started
a turn to the west.  And then he noticed that he was over the airfield.  Ed
pulled hard right and unloaded.  Airspeed was building nicely.  He pulled
the nose out in front of the Dragonfly and moved right inside seven hundred
feet.  Another three hundred round burst and the range was settling at five
hundred feet.  Pieces of the Dragonfly were being torn off by the twenty
mike mike rounds as they exploded on contact with the Dragonfly.  This
Dragonfly snapped rolled into a tight spiral, nose well below the horizon,
trailing white smoke.  Ed rolled wings level and pulled into the vertical.
There was a small explosion when it slammed into the jungle below, ten
seconds later.

   Craig forgot the dead Dragonfly and turned to look for the Citation. 
His adrenalin was pumping.  Two kills, he wanted the third.  He was sure
the Citation was close, keeping an eye on the chicks.  "Hard right, two. 
I'll be at your three o'clock about a mile out.  Snap, seeing eye."

   Like she was thinking right along with him, Cindy answered almost before
Craig came off the mic button.  "Three three zero, four miles."

   "Two's visual." Ed transmitted.  He'd eliminated the threat, if they
could be considered such.  In well over their heads; they never even knew
they were under attack.  It had been too easy.  The calm, he felt this
morning before they took off, returned.  They had sent Isabel's message and
taken her revenge for Alfred's death.

   Craig came right back with, "I've got the lead.  Chatter mark tactical."


   Craig was pulling right to three three zero.  He was down low and only
moving along at two forty-five or so.  He kept the power up and started
climbing, scanning the overcast sky in front of him.  And then right in the
middle of the windscreen the Citation just appeared, turning through
south-west about four thousand feet above him.

   "Lead." Craig transmitted.

   "Twoop." Ed replied.

   "Three." Cindy checked in from the hacienda.

   They were now on the same frequency that the Dragonflys had used to
communicate with the Citation, three twenty-four point six.  Craig set up
the rockets and then pulled the nose of the A-1 up to point at the
Citation. Master arm still on.  He fired a rocket.  He fired another.  Both
of them came out of the tube the same way, streaming a bright white trail
of smoke as they streaked through the sky.  Craig keyed the mic.

   "Fox two on the Citation at six thousand, heading southwest." He fired
another and then a second later the fourth and final rocket shot out of the
tube, streaking up toward the overcast sky.

   *****

   Randal Hopps was trying to organize his thoughts.  He was calling the
Dragonfly's call sign, repeatedly.  He knew they wouldn't answer.  They
were dead.  The liaison officer was near hysterical.  He wanted to see
where they crashed.  Randal was more concerned with leaving the area.  In
less than three minutes someone flying A-1 Skyraiders had shot down two
Peruvian A-37s.  They were still out there.

   "Lead...Twoop...Three." Came in over Randal's headset.  "Who the fuck
was that ?" He wondered.  The TV was still locked on to one of the
Skyraiders.  That Skyraider was heading in their direction but was well
below them.

   Randal looked out the window to his left and rolled in that direction.
He caught sight of the A-1 just as the transmission began.  "Fox two on the
Citation at six thousand, heading southwest," came in loud and clear
through Randal's headset.  Two missle trails were streaking toward the
Citation.  It was instinct, Randal rolled toward the missiles and pulled
down into them.  He lost sight of the A-1 that had fired the missiles but
was more concerned that the missiles didn't blow them out of the sky.

   Randal rolled out of his break turn about eight seconds later with the
Citation's nose well below the horizon.  He was concerned with the "g"
force on the Citation and pulling out of the resultant dive when he looked
out at the horizon and there was an A-1, nose pointing out in front of him,
it's wings on fire with twenty mike mike rounds filling the sky in front of
him.  He tried to roll and pull but the rounds were all around him and
still more were streaking toward him.  He felt impacts hit the airplane and
then the engines compressor stalled.  It was very noisy.  The right side of
the cockpit was torn open and the first officer was only half there.  The
controls were gone just a few moments later, then the nose pitched down and
the ground started to come up faster and faster until impact turned out all
the lights.

   *****

   The Citation had crashed moments ago.  Smoke was beginning to come up
through the jungle canopy below.  Craig was down low, circling the smoke.
Probably getting the smoke in his head's up display and eventually on his
video tape.  Ed transmitted, "Lead, come hard left to zero six zero.  Copy.
Chatter mark."

   A few seconds went by before Craig responded but by then Ed could see
the A-1 in front of him turning hard to the east.  Ed changed frequencies
and flew over the top of Craig and out to his right wing as he flew toward
the east.

   "I've got the lead, Malibu." Ed transmitted.

   "Two copies, visual." Craig replied.

   "Three.  Sitrep." Cindy inquired from the command post.  She was already
fairly sure of the outcome as there were only two returns on the scope but
she wanted confirmation.  She was tingling when she heard the old man
transmit.

   "Splash three bad guys.  Chatter mark."

   *****

   Captain Caeres had just entered the command post after moving the barge
off the end of the runway.  He knew before Maria yanked her headset off and
started yelling in Portuguese, "They did it !  They did it !  They killed
them all !" She was out of her chair and dancing around with the youngest
Bahia brother.  The older Bahia brother was pumping his fists in the air.
Isabel was looking toward the sky and crossing herself.  So much time and
preparation and money and...It was over so quickly, eight minutes by her
watch.

   Cindy yanked off her headset.  "Congratulations Senora Morales !  The
mission was a total success.  Splash three bad guys, Isabel.  Let us get
preparations underway to get the fuck out of here !"

   Isabel's smile was weak as the realization flooded over her.  All of
them were dead.  At least six and possibly eight men, maybe more, were
murdered this morning because she decided to kill them and it happened so
quickly.  She was paralyzed now that it was done and she could not change
the outcome.  The pros from Torrance had sent her message.  She feared what
the other side would do about it !?

   Maria looked at the expression on her mother's face.  She expected a
smile at least, if not a show of bravado.  But instead it was fear or maybe
distaste was a better description.  She went to her mother's side and put
an arm around her shoulder.  Her mother was no longer on the team or maybe
she never had been ?  She had listened to Ed argue with her mother almost
all last night.  It was over if it ever was something or just the thrill of
it all.  Maria slowly realized their continued success depended on her.

   "Yes, Surfer Girl, I think it's time to get the fuck out of Dodge !"
Maria turned to Captain Caeres and spoke rapidly in Portuguese.  The Bahia
brothers were mentioned and were instantly alert.  The three men headed off
to the barge with the jeep and several boxes of equipment and supplies. 
Maria embraced her mother.  She felt guilty that her joy with today's
action far exceeded her mother's.  Cindy continued to watch the radar
picture, the boys were approaching five miles out.

   "Cleared to land and watch the barge.  Out."

   "Tally ho, cleared to land." Ed transmitted and then kicked Craig out
for landing.  Ed had the barge in sight and dropped his gear.

   Cindy kept the radar transmitting.  Since the three targets disappeared
from the scope there had been no activity at all.  Three more sweeps and
the first Skyraider was touching down and rolling out.  She looked out over
the river and saw Craig bringing the second A-1 in for a landing.  She
wondered why the lead changed ?

   She started packing up the radio and the radar set.  Craig came over the
threshold and Cindy relaxed.  It was almost over.  She kept packing shit up
and before she knew it she could hear the sound of the airplanes getting
louder as they taxied to this end of the runway.  The Bahia brothers were
marshaling the airplanes as they approached the north end of the runway. 
When they shut down the early morning became silent.

   Chapter Twenty-nine

   "Citation 792 come in." The controller's console, aboard the P-3 Orion,
was surrounded by officers and crew.  One by one, three of the five returns
had disappear.  All of them had watched.  There were only two returns on
the screen now.  They were heading east at low altitude in a line abreast
formation and moving along at close to two hundred and sixty knots.

   The colonel spoke, "You've tried the Dragonflys ?"

   "Yes, sir," came the reply.

   "Try the Citation again."

   "Citation 792, how do you read ?" When no reply was heard after a few
seconds, the controller looked up at the colonel.

   "When do you anticipate losing those two ?" The colonel asked.

   "Another twenty-five miles, sir."

   The colonel turned to another consol.  "Tell the other Dragonflys to
stand down.  Set up a secure line to Hostel Inambu and a secure line to the
Pentagon."

   The colonel went back to his station and sat.  He felt so impotent
watching what was happening on the radar presentation.  When the action is
over six hundred miles away, you are impotent.  He brought up the radar
display on his consol and watched the contacts continuing to the east.  Two
more sweeps and they were gone, terrain masking in a river bed or behind a
ridge line.  He made notes of what he observed as he was sure there would
be a very thorough investigation.

   *****

   Felix was holding the phone to his ear.  "You have a message." One of
his men was monitoring the computers and his email program.  He looked at
his watch.  It was just a little before nine in the morning.  They started
flying yesterday.  He broke out in perspiration.  Yes, it was warm and
humid but this was anxiety.  His man stepped aside as he entered the
computer room.  Felix nodded for him to leave the room and did nothing
until the door closed behind him.  The gibberish of encryption turned into
five lines of text.
From: Surfer Girl
To: Felix

   home team zero.  visitors three.

   debrief/victory party friday.

   remember bonus, father.

   Felix looked up at the ceiling and crossed himself.  The old man was
right.  They ruined a lot of somebodies' day.  He sat down and began making
arrangements to meet them all on the island of Aruba.

   *****

   The barge was close to fifteen meters long by about seven meters across.
The Captain's quarters were the only permanent structure on the barge.  And
the wheel house was co-located with the Captain's quarters at the rear of
the barge.  The rest of the decking was taken up by four wooden crates. 
The crates were actually three by three by three meter wooden structures
that housed sleeping gear and their equipment.

   The barge was traveling with the current and still leaving a good wake
behind it to boot.  Close to twenty knots during daylight, claimed Captain
Caeres.  Maria brought Isabel aboard and immediately took her mother to her
crate where she remained.  They had sailed through the day and stormy late
afternoon and evening following the attack.  The captain was just about all
done in.  Maria talked him into pulling into the next inlet so they could
all sack out for twelve hours.

   Four hours later Captain Ceares pulled into an inlet that just about hid
the barge and it's four large crates from sight.  The Bahia brothers rigged
up the camouflage netting over the crates for insurance.  After they tied
up, Ed immediately went for the whiskey and even poured a glass for the
Captain.

   Ten minutes later Ed and the Captain were ensconced with "Jack" in his
quarters.  Isabel was now walking around the perimeter of the barge but
avoided the captain's quarters.  Ed made no effort to greet her.  It was
obvious that Maria was now making the decisions.  The Bahia boys went
immediately to their crate and crashed.

   Craig left Cindy in their crate and wandered down to where Ed and now
Maria were talking with the Captain.  On the way he passed Isabel, on her
walk.  She avoided looking Craig in the eye as they passed.  Isabel gave no
indication she shared the exhilaration the others had shown.  But then
they'd all been up thirty hours or so.  Moments later, Isabel disappeared
back inside her crate.

   Maria was doing most of the talking.  Craig hung out just outside the
door to the very cramped quarters of the Captain.  Ed offered the bottle to
Craig through the door.  He shook his head "no." He was higher than a kite.
Ed filled the Captain's glass once more.  The captain was still listening
to Maria.

   Ed stepped out on to the deck.  He drank straight from the bottle. 
"Mother is feeling remorse.  She's having difficulty coming to grips with
how successful we were.  One kill was okay.  Two, maybe ?  But three is
definitely causing some anxiety."

   "Sorry, Ed.  It happened.  It's over.  Done with." Craig was calm and
cool about it.  He knew there were bad feelings between Isabel and Ed. 
They argued half the night again.  He felt responsible as he had gone after
the Citation.  This had all become too personal.  "If the guy had just kept
going, he'd be at the bar bragging about how he out ran four AIM-9s.  But
he didn't.  The six "P"s came to our rescue.  The rockets didn't guide, Ed.
They went ballistic.  And who in their right mind would make that radio
call I made ?  He should have been professional enough to figure it out. 
He wasn't.  He lost.  Lose sight, lose fight.  And with the command crew
gone, there are no eye witnesses.  They can put together all the radio
recordings and radar tape they want but there will still be those questions
they can't answer."

   Ed let Craig vent.  When he stopped Ed reached out and grabbed his
shoulder.  "Yo !  Chill out, Malibu.  I'm with you, partner.  Maria's on
board too and is trying to convince Captain Ricardo that either of us could
pilot out in deep water during daylight hours." Ed took another slug of
"Jack."

   "Anyway, Maria has no problems with what we did and Ricardo is prior
military.  He understands, he told me so.  Anyway, Maria is on a high that
comes without a glass pipe, sonny boy.  She was a member of a victorious
professional team and thought it worked out just about right.  The good
guys won.  Now if we can just get the fuck out of this country, we got it
dicked."

   Craig turned to face Ed.  He was more than surprised.  He figured Ed was
staying down here with Isabel.  "I thought you were staying ?"

   "Plans change.  Remember, flexibility is the key to air power, sonny
boy." Ed spouted off before taking a good slug of "Jack."

   "Well, should I reserve you a seat ?  We're filling up.  The Bahia
brothers are coming with Cindy and I.  The oldest is a diesel mechanic and
I figure that will be a very important position aboard the yacht.  Isabel
paid them each a half a mil.  They're creaming their jeans.  She tells me
this drug den on Aruba is big enough for eight, ten people real comfortable
like.  Sounds real cool.  Allow us a couple of days to get provisions
before we sail.  You in ?"

   "Yea, but I need reservations for two.  That okay ?" Craig looked over
at Maria, who was still talking with the captain.  Ed nodded.

   Craig smiled.  "Sure, but pack light.  Gross weight's gonna be off the
chart." Craig tossed his cigarette butt out into the water.

   Maria came out of the Captain's quarters.  "Get some shut eye, you two.
He'll give you instruction tomorrow.  Two teams, one of you plus a Bahia
brother.  Should be in Manaus and docking real early Wednesday morning."
She held out a check for Craig then stood there with her chest thrust out,
hands on hips, looking at Craig.  "Well, what're you waiting for ?  I've
got to talk to Ed." Craig walked backwards toward his crate.

   After closing up the crate door, Craig found the inside full of
marijuana smoke.  Cindy was wide awake and waiting.  "What the fuck is
going on out there, Malibu ?"

   "Don't worry, babe.  The old lady was good to her word on the money and
even threw in a million dollar bonus for the Bahia brothers.  I think this
takes care of all that depression I was feeling about blowing the Citation
out of the sky." Craig laughed and held up the check that Maria had given
him.  "Sixteen million big ones, dear." He looked at the check again before
continuing.  "Isabel still feels horrible about our success.  We've been
too fuckin' successful !  Ed claims she almost called it off night before
last ?  Fuck, Cindy, do you feel we fucked this up ?"

   Cindy was hitting off a joint and shook her head, "Shit no !" She let
out with the smoke.  It was almost a whisper.  "That old woman is talking
bullshit, Malibu.  Those guys were getting paid big bucks to hang it out.
Like you said, if the guy kept climbing straight ahead he'd be telling bar
stories about how he out ran four AIM-9s in a Citation."

   Craig changed the subject.  "Did you know Ed and Maria are coming with
us ?  It could be pretty tight.  You okay with that ?"

   "Yea...Yea, Maria already talked to me.  A check for sixteen million
isn't that heavy.  Did Maria tell you Isabel is entering a convent ?  One
of those cloistered ones with a vow of silence.  Nobody's gonna get the
story out of her and with the rest of us sailing the world...The perfect
crime, Malibu, unless you think the Bahia brothers are going to rat you out
for the money." She pulled the sheet off her naked body.  "I might have to
side with the Bahia brothers.  Come to bed, stud.  I missed all the south
american lieutenant colonels."

   "You aren't safe yet, senorita." Craig laughed as he dropped his jeans,
his erection growing out of the fly of his briefs.

   *****

   The video conference with Washington D.C.  was cancelled early Monday
morning.  Instead the CIA guy was called back to headquarters as soon as
possible.  The press were fed a story about a mid-air collision that
claimed all three airplanes and their crews.  The South American papers had
it on the front page on Tuesday morning.  It made the international section
of U.S.  papers on Wednesday morning.  By then the majority of the
perpetrators were on board the Malibu, half way to Georgetown, Guyana for a
"gas and go," enroute to Aruba, a Dutch protectorate, I believe.

   Senora Morales' decision to enter a convent, joining a religious order
that did not communicate with the outside world didn't make a big splash in
the papers.  But it was included in a Morales, S.A.  press release that
appeared in The Jornal do Commercio almost verbatim Thursday afternoon.

   The CIA agent arrived in Washington D.C.  on Tuesday.  He was met at the
airport and immediately taken to a safe house on the outskirts of the city.
The debriefing began and lasted for over three days.  All the communication
tapes had been assembled along with the radar tapes.  Someone wanted
answers.  All the technical means were being built into a briefing that was
going to be given to several undersecretaries and a lot of generals before
being given to the secdef.  The CIA guy would be just one of many crammed
into the main auditorium on the Friday following the incident.

   *****

   Jimmy Walton was turning his surfboard around to take off on a four foot
wall of water.....The wave was curling around the tip of a shallow reef
that was off a corner of this little island located northwest of Aruba. 
He'd been sailing the newly christened "Surfers Rule" out of Redondo Beach,
California.  He had a crew of four with him and it was a kick, surfing just
about anywhere you wanted to and it saved so much paddling.

   Now you had to have a knack to picking up the rideable waves from the
backside.  Jimmy was getting pretty good at that.  They'd been at sea for
sixty days.  Since a week after this very rich South American woman came to
his office and looked through the ships he had on consignment.  She asked
for the "Angry Sun" to be re-christened and Jimmy handled all the
paperwork.

   Her instructions were a little strange but the money was too good to
pass up.  The risk to him and his crew, very small.  Jimmy had received
encrypted email that instructed him to anchor off a particular spot off the
island of Aruba.  The date and time would be transmitted later.  A launch
would come out to transfer them to shore where they would be paid and taken
to the airport.

   .....Jimmy was standing now and carving up and down the face of this
very steep wall of water as it rushed over the reef.  "Surfers Rule" was
anchored about seventy-five yards away.  After the wave petered out, he
dropped to his belly and paddled.  He wished that some of his crew had
surfed but they didn't; just trying to burn some time in life but most
likely evading some unpleasant legal proceedings.  The new owner must surf
as that was part of the deal, a quiver of six boards.  And Jimmy had tried
them all.

   He was climbing on board "Surfers Rule" when one of the crew called to
him.  "You've got more of that special mail, Jimmy."

   After drying off, Jimmy went below alone and sat at the computer.  The
rest of the crew were either sleeping or sun bathing.  "Surfers Rule" slept
eight comfortably.  The message was short and to the point.  Friday at
noon. They'd have to lift anchor and sail out tonight.  He sent an
acknowledgement and got up to tell the rest of the crew.  They'd be heading
back state side Friday evening.

   Chapter Thirty

   3 August 2000

   The Island of Aruba

   The chauffer remained in the limo as he was instructed when he picked up
the assignment.  It was exactly nine fifty in the morning.  He had checked
the address several times.  It was a remote, walled compound up near
Malmok. A ritzy place, it looked like; right across the road from the
ocean. He parked in the parking area off the road, right in front of the
gate.

   At exactly ten o'clock the gate opened and two young men slipped out
into the parking area.  They were teenagers, wearing jeans, sneakers and
pullover polo shirts.  The teenagers were followed by two older men, one in
his thirties, the other at least fifty.  Both wearing tan slacks with
loafers and flowery print Hawaiian shirts.  They went to each side of the
limo and opened the doors on both sides.  The young guys were hanging out
by the rear of the vehicle, looking out into the street.

   The ladies were lookers, immediately drawing the chauffeur's attention
away from the men.  Both in their early thirties, the blonde, slim and at
least five six, seven.  The brunette was hispanic, much shorter and really
stacked.  Both were wearing Hawaiian print shifts that reached just above
their knees with sandals on their feet.  It appeared that they might be
wearing bathing suits underneath the shifts.  The chauffer noticed that the
blonde was carrying a slim, black briefcase.  He looked forward as the
ladies got into the back of the limo.

   The older man got into the front with the chauffer.  The three younger
men got into the back with the women.  The older man told him the name of
the bank they were interested in visiting.  After the bank they would need
to visit a grocery store and possibly a liquor store if the grocery store
didn't sell alcohol.  The chauffer kept the window open between the back
and front but none of the passengers talked.

   They arrived in front of the bank at just a little after ten-thirty
Thursday morning.  All of the occupants of the limo except for the driver
got out and entered the bank.  It was over two hours before they returned
to the limo.  They then visited the commercial center and spent several
hours shopping and eating.  The limo driver noticed how they behaved
outside the limo, going from shop to shop, laughing and joking with each
other.  This was a close knit group of people.  He couldn't quite figure
out the relationships.  When they returned to the limo they were silent
except for the old man.  He told the driver to take them back to the
"house," he called it.

   After arriving the limo driver assisted his fare by carry bags and
boxes, mostly food and drink, into the house.  The men carried most of
them. He was heading back out to the limo.  He didn't believe that there
was anything more to carry.  The old man was following him.

   "I'll need you off the books tomorrow afternoon...Friday." The old man
wasn't asking.  He was reaching out to shake hands with the limo driver. 
The driver felt the bill in his palm immediately.  He backed away and
glanced into his hand.  It was a hundred dollar bill.

   "What time, sir ?"

   "Noon.  About six hours work.  A hundred an hour plus a nice little
bonus I imagine, if everything comes off okay."

   "I'll be here."

   *****

   The Bahia brothers were taking turns jumping off the diving board into
the crystal clear pool water, seeing which one could make the bigger
splash. The ladies were at the other end of the pool, wearing very tiny
bikinis, sunning themselves.  Both of their bodies glistened with oil as
they baked themselves in the sun.  Ed was sitting on a stool in the kitchen
across from the refrigerator while Craig had pushed himself up on to an
empty space on the kitchen counter.

   Craig was smoking a joint.  Ed was drinking Jack Daniels on the rocks.
Both of them were bare footed, wearing swim trunks and white "T" shirts. 
The counter on the other side of the refrigerator was stacked high with
boxes and boxes of food stuffs.  There were three cases of Jack Daniels
piled up on the floor over in the corner.  Ten plus cases of Budweiser beer
were stacked against the far wall next to as many cases of bottled water.

   The door bell rang.  Ed jumped down off the stool and headed for the
front door.  Craig slid to the floor, opened the cabinet below the counter
where he was sitting and brought an AK-47 up on to the counter top.  The
other AK was in one of the bedroom closets.  Both of the girls had their
chins up and were looking toward the front door.  The Bahia brothers
continued to jump off the diving board at the other end of the pool.

   Ed talked with the delivery man for a few moments and then signed some
papers.  He brought his copy over to the kitchen counter.

   "Put that thing away, Malibu." Craig stowed the AK back into the cabinet
and jumped up on the counter again.

   "So where's he putting it ?" Craig asked.  It being the raft.

   "Just inside the gate.  I thought that would be safe enough." Ed wasn't
asking for an opinion but Craig gave him one anyway.

   "Yea, that's cool.  Nobody's going to walk away with that shit." Craig
held out the joint to Ed.  He shook his head and walked back to the front
door and out on to the front patio.  The girls' heads were back down on the
loungers.

   Craig goofed on the near naked ladies, sunning themselves, wondering
what the relationship was between Maria and Ed ?  He jumped off the counter
and pulled over a sandwich bag half full of weed.  The rolling papers were
in the bag.  He started rolling a joint.  He heard the Bahia brothers
entering the kitchen.  Ed had been gone for five minutes or so.

   "Where...Ed ?" It was the oldest.  Ed was about their father's age and
the three of them had become very close especially when they learned
exactly what Craig and Ed were doing in Brazil.  Craig nodded toward the
front door.  The door was still half open.

   Both of the brothers moved toward the door and out on to the patio. 
Craig struck a match and lit the new joint.  He started rolling another. 
The three of them were laughing when they came back through the front door.
Ed went to the refrigerator to get the brothers a beer.  Both of the
brothers cleared some space and jumped up on to the counter, preparing to
listen to Ed and Craig talk.  Maria insisted they learn English.

   Ed was filling his tumbler with ice.  He'd bought a dozen of them
yesterday along with the Jack Daniels.  He was pouring.  "So let me go over
this again.  Maria and I accompany the Bahia brothers out to the yacht and
bring the crew to shore and the limo.  We pre-flight the yacht and then
come back ashore as a show of force for Felix."

   "Aaaahh...Yea, man." Craig sounded real stoned.  The Bahia brothers
started laughing.  Ed flipped Craig the bird and they all started laughing.

   The girls entered the kitchen with beach towels wrapped around their
waists.  Every man there took a good look at Maria's very large, giggling
breasts as she walked across the kitchen.  She stood next to Ed and took
the tumbler out of his hand.  She took a good slug of "Jack" before giving
it back to him.  Cindy was taking a hit off the joint.  She handed it
across the kitchen to Maria.

   "So what were they discussing ?" Cindy asked the Bahia brothers.

   The younger one jumped to the floor.  "Palo, me, Maria, Ed go to boat.
Make ready sail.  Come back with guns." He smiled the same wicked smile he
did when Surfer Girl first told them what the men were going to do.

   Cindy Hansen crossed the room and gave the young man a hug.  She
continued in Spanish, "Excellent job, Edwardo.  Your father would be very
proud of you." She went to the refrigerator and got them another round of
beers.

   "And why are we doing this, Ed ?" Craig tossed across the kitchen. 
Edwardo had jumped back up to the counter top.  Maria was passing the joint
back to Cindy.

   "Okay...Felix knows who we are and since we pissed off an awful lot of
people and killed who knows how many ?  We need a little insurance." Ed
took another gulp of Jack.  "I'm still not sure how this is all going to
work out ?"

   Cindy winked at him.  "Don't worry, old man.  It's going to work.  We
got some shit on Father Felix, too.  Shit like that is a two way street."