“So why you?” demanded Linda.
“Because I know Eduardo Fernandez, and DEA knows it.”
“But that was before we were married. That was over six years ago!” responded Linda, not wishing to admit the dilemma they were caught up in.
“I say to Hell with them!” snapped Judy.
“I agree,” stated Linda.
“I don’t think we have a choice. I think we have to co-operate,” voted Phil.
“Co-operate. It’s either that, or give up our life of idyllic pleasures in exchange for one of constant hassles,” said Michael.
“God, this is so unfair,” said Linda. “How can you even try to “co-operate” without getting yourself killed?” she asked her husband.
That evoked a strange reaction from Farris. He grinned. “I think I can avoid that.”
Linda now became really angry. “You bastard, Michael Farris. You want to do this! You crave the challenge, the adrenaline. I’ll bet you have already agreed. And you did it just to satisfy your fucking testosterone!” She rose angrily and marched off to their stateroom.
“Wow!” said Judy after Linda was out of ear shot. “That’s the first time I ever heard Linda say the “F” word”. Maybe I should go talk to her.”
“Give her a few minutes. But watch out. When Linda gets angry, you might be much safer on a different planet. It’s possible the entire galaxy is at risk.”
“How dangerous would it be? Co-operating, I mean,” asked Judy. “If we agreed.”
Phil answered. “On a scale of one to ten … probably eleven.”
“And you vote we do it?” exclaimed Judy.
Phil looked down at his hands and said nothing.
“Men are such turkeys. Always marching off to war. Grinning to themselves as they leave. I’ll go talk to Linda. Maybe a new “all girl planet” is a good idea. With that Judy took both her glass and Linda’s and headed to the stateroom.
Phil looked over at Farris and raised his glass. “I think that went over well, don’t you?” he muttered sardonically.
“Perfectly. Just fucking perfectly.”
“Is it safe to leave?” asked Phil.
“It’s not safe to stay. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Linda pegged you, didn’t she?”
Farris didn’t answer immediately. He looked hard into his friend’s eyes. “You a bit bored with the happy life, Phil?”
“Yah, a bit”.
“Me too.”
Phil drove the rental car along the parkway, windshield wipers intermittently clearing off the drizzle. As DEA headquarters came into view Michael Farris dialed the number on his cell phone that he had copied from the phone book. The receptionist answered.
“Tom Barrens, 5536,” said Farris.
“I’ll put you through,” responded the receptionist sounding young and pleasant.
“Barrens, here.”
“This is Michael Farris.”
“Hello, Michael. Thanks for calling.”
“Where’s your office?”
“Sixth floor. A couple of offices from the South West corner. Don’t ever come here, though. I can meet you somewhere close by.”
“Just flash your lights on and off a couple of times.”
“Uugh, OK.”
Tom Barrens stood up and walked to the wall switch and turned his lights off and then on.
“OK. I can see them. Meet us at Cloe’s Crab Shack, at noon. That all right with you?”
“That’s fine.” Tom Barrens looked at his phone. It had suddenly gone dead. His first reaction was to be a bit put off, but then smiled to himself. “Smart!” he thought.
An hour later, the three men were seated in a booth at the restaurant.
“We’ve thought it over and we’ve decided to help,” said Phil.
“Excellent. Here’s what you’ll do. We’ll put you on a plane for Colombia ASAP, say two to three weeks. I’ve got papers requiring your signatures that will spell out remuneration, insurance, expenses, etc. There will be two weeks of intensive training and briefing before you leave. Then I’ll get the tickets. Here are the briefing files. Your part of this mission is to contact Eduardo Fernandez in order to set up a buy and then make a delivery to the USA. We supply the buyer. The object is to nab a first level importer.”
Farris replied, “I understand the mission, but we call the shots on the planning. We’ll also need two more sets of papers for signature. Linda Farris and Judy Simpson. We’ll all train and then we’ll all sail to Colombia on the Iron Pyrate. We’ll make contact in our own time. No rushing.”
“The women. Never considered that! That may present a problem.” Tom’s face showed no concern. That was one of his assets. The fact that there might be a problem had no emotional impact on him. It was simply an anomaly for which he had to find a solution. It would require careful consideration but he would formulate an answer.
“Then it’s one you deal with. We had enough problem dealing with that difficulty last night and then again at breakfast,” said Phil.
“Like that, hunh. OK, I’ll handle it. Anything else?”
“Yah, don’t ever threaten the women again. Linda is on a first name basis with her senator and has enough clout to have you demoted to janitor.”
Tom chuckled. “I’ve only had my promotion for a week. Haven’t even seen my increased pay yet. Demotion wouldn’t hurt that much. You know I’m kidding don’t you?”
Phil looked at Farris and grinned. A few seconds later they turned back to Tom.
“What’s the training like?” asked Phil.
“It’s rugged. Not boot camp, but pretty tough. Are the women up to that?”
“They’ll make it. It’s me I’m worried about,” chuckled Farris.
“All right men. I’ll contact you with the details. Lunch is courtesy of the US of A. Anyone want dessert?”
Farris shook his head. With that Tom Barrens rose and left the table.
Phil watched as Tom left the restaurant. His eyes drifted to a waitress carrying a dessert plate to a customer. “I wish I’d ordered a piece of that pecan pie,” he said, pretending incalculable dejection.
When the men returned to the boat Judy seemed normal but Linda was still fuming.
“How did it go?” asked Judy.
“Everything is fine. Next stop …. Boot camp!”
“Wow. Boot Camp. Hey, Lyn! Want to get our heads shaved like Demi Moore?”
That evoked a reluctant smile.
“Sure, why not? Michael did watch that movie at least six times.” Linda was trying to act normal but it was easy to see the anger still seething not far below the surface. “What then?” she asked.
“Then we take a leisurely sail, island hopping through the Caribbean, until we reach Colombia.”