Sea of Greed

Joe pulled out the phone and pretended to dial. By now, the stench of the old fish was becoming more noticeable. It covered the lingering smell of the explosives and soon had the Lincoln driver putting a hand over his mouth.

Strangely, Joe could barely smell it anymore. He pretended to talk on the phone for a minute and then went silent. “I’m on hold,” he said. “Typical… Absolutely typical…”

As Joe stood there, the back door of the SUV opened and a man got out. It wasn’t Warren. Had to be a bodyguard. He walked carefully toward Joe and the Lincoln’s driver, making sure not to step on any of the rotting fish.

Warren got out as well but stayed by the Lincoln. “What is this ridiculousness?”

“Just an accident,” Joe said. “No big deal. We’re going to fix everything. I’m calling my company now.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Warren said, looking at his watch. “Let’s get out of here.”

The driver shook his head. “Sorry, Mr. Warren. I’ll have to get you another car.”

“Another car?”

The driver pointed to the ruined tires.

Warren looked down and then shook his head in disgust. “Make it quick,” he snapped. “The stench is killing me.”

With that, Warren got back in the SUV, slammed the door and rolled the window up tight. Joe doubted that would protect him from the aroma. With all the rotting fish around, Warren might as well have been sitting in a bowl of day-old fish soup.

Joe continued to remain on hold. “High call volume,” he said. “But my call is important to them.”

The driver pulled out his own phone and called in for a replacement, but thanks to some highly inappropriate computer work, this call went not to the driver’s office but to Priya. Listening to his own phone, Joe heard very word.

“Dispatch, this is Sherman in car six,” the driver said. “Hate to report this, but I’ve had an accident. We’re going to need a tow truck and a replacement car brought out for Mr. Warren as soon as possible. And I mean, as soon as humanly possible.”

“I’ve got you at the intersection of Middle Road and Parson’s Lane,” Priya said, sounding authentically Bermudian with her British accent.

“We’re a few hundred yards past that,” the driver said.

“I’ll call for a tow and send another car,” she replied. “Please tell Mr. Warren to remain in the vehicle for safety reasons.”

“Of course,” the driver replied. “Just hurry. It stinks down here.”

The phone call ended. Joe gave the driver a false set of insurance papers, made his apologies, taped the back doors shut and drove off.

Oliver Warren, his bodyguard and the Lincoln driver would wait a frustrating twenty minutes, call once more for another car and then wait further. After the second call — and realizing that the stench of fish had permeated his clothes — Warren contacted his secretary, had her reach out to Tessa Franco and cancel the date.

He offered his apologies and suggested they reschedule, indicating that dinner any of the next three nights would be fine — as long as it wasn’t seafood.

27

TESSA’S COMPOUND, BERMUDA

KURT STOOD over the security guard whom he’d thrown to the ground while raising his hands, not wanting to be shot by the second guard.

“Sorry about that,” he said to the first guard. “You surprised me and I reacted out of instinct.” He offered a hand. “No hard feelings?”

While the officer on the ground looked wary and confused, the second man was downright hostile. “Stay where you are,” he shouted, his weapon drawn and aimed at Kurt’s chest.

“Relax,” Kurt said. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“Just keep your hands where I can see them.”

Kurt raised his hands and the man on the ground got up and backed away, grabbing Kurt’s waterproof pack for good measure.

“Let’s see what’s inside.”

“Be careful,” Kurt said.

The man unzipped the bag, rummaged through one pocket and then opened the main section of the pouch, pulling out a handful of melting ice. “What in the world?”

The sound of a sliding door opening violently stopped him from searching deeper. All eyes turned and Kurt saw his deliverance, Tessa Franco, stunning in a beaded evening gown, casting a reflection that danced in the soft evening light as she walked barefoot across the veranda. Her eyes were wide as she approached, her face slightly flushed. She was spellbinding.

“What, exactly, is going on out here?”

“We caught him before he could get to the house,” the security guard said.

The question wasn’t meant for him. Tessa was staring directly at Kurt. He shrugged. “I asked if you’d see me earlier tonight, you suggested perhaps another time. So here I am.”

“I did suggest another time,” Tessa replied, “but this is decidedly not another time. This is, in fact, the exact time I told you I wouldn’t be available.”

Kurt glanced at the security guards, who were rapidly getting the idea that he wasn’t a burglar or an assassin. He lowered his hands and turned back to Tessa.