Chapter 29 - Bermuda II

   The original plan, was that we were supposed to fly to Brazil, have our meeting in a timely fashion, then fly back to Miami. Where the ship would extend the cruise, and no one would complain about an extra day or two, to run around Miami and the surrounding area. Plus, the sister ship cruise liner. The Spoiled Princess? Was more or less the wife's own cruise liner. What mother and father wouldn't like to spend time with the son, and Francois gets another whole cruise liner to find feeder investors on.

   But as General Suarez and Vaco had kept us for days, waiting? The la Grenouille Verte, and the Spoiled Princess had both set sail for Bermuda. The pilots corrected course, so as to fly over the two cruise liners. We circled them several times, lower and lower. Before a final buzz fairly low over both. Just over stall speed, the slowest we could fly. Yeah, I feel like a pro, saying it like that. I learned that its like waving, when the plane flies low and wags the wings a little. We were low enough we could see people on the decks, waving. Both ships shot flares, that was another greeting.

   The pilots explained what was going on with the twin cruise liners. The passengers? Think they're in a race. The passengers get toys, as the ships run side by side, as close as its safe to run like that. Lasers, cheap Chinese binoculars. Mylar balloons, the game is to hit the foil balloon, and see the laser bounce around. You pick someone out on the other ship, and describe them. Your partner, now has to find them. They hand out little handheld plastic toys, that look like the metal detectors bouncers use. You type a short message in? And wave it. It draws the letters in the air, with bright green LED's.

   The pilots said the ships take turns, winning. The passengers think they're pulling ahead, or falling behind. Some men are mooning the other ship, and pretty women are flashing their tits for the binoculars on the other side. The lasers and the flashing green LED letters? Are much more dramatic at night. The cruise liners have these gigantic helium balloons they fly in port, and they light up when hit by the bigger lasers. The more people hit the balloon at night, with the various red and green lasers, as well as the big ones the ships have? Well, it sounds like fun.

   People para-sail, a special parachute on a tow rope, behind the boats. At night, they get a red and a green laser, and have fun. We get to experience all this, on the "race" back to Miami, after Bermuda. I can remember living as a steakhouse waitress, as an undercover pool worker for the FBI. Anytime a girl at work landed a rich boyfriend? They always got taken in the middle of winter, somewhere like... Bermuda. They came home with a rich tan, and were all smiles showing off, talking about the vacation.

   My, how things come around full circle sometimes. This is me now. I texted Elise, and she sent me pictures. In college, Little Lightning used to give Wizzy slow dancing lessons. I got her to do it for Elise. I had to wipe a few tears, when I saw a short video of her slow dancing with Francois's wife.

   Its the same dance. It brings up a few replays of Wiz. Smiling and shrugging. What can you even do, you know. I wish Wiz was still here, he'd have loved all this. Then I realize, he is. His soul lives in Panic's body. He really did reincarnate back, and found me again. I know if I die, I can come back and find Panic again. He'll smell me, he'll see it in my eyes, and in my words and actions.

   Wizzy took my fear of death off of me, and Panic reinforced it. I don't look forward to dying, but... its no big deal. I know I died once, and got to experience it. Two little tiny bitches, poisoned me. My throat closed up, and I couldn't breathe. Panic found me in a, well? In a complete panic. Sorry for the pun. He waited for me to gas out, and drift off? Then he cut my throat open, and shoved a plastic tube in, so I could breathe.

   To say it was uncomfortable and scary? Was the understatement of a lifetime. But once you begin to drift off, its actually quite pleasant. I felt myself bumping the ceiling, like a balloon floated up. I rolled over, and was looking down at my own body. The eyes and tongue bugged out, the bloodshot eyes, the blue skin. I knew I was dead, no questions about it. I was amazed, how calm it was. So peaceful. Once you get there, you don't mind it at all.

   Then? There was an explosion of bright light, and a spray of bloody mist. I could get a breath in, by heaving hard. Fighting for every breath, so hard it was painful. But I knew I was alive again. Then, the little tube got shoved into my hole he cut in my throat, and I could sort of breathe. I texted because I couldn't talk, I needed a bigger tube. He switched out for a bigger plastic tube he found, and... I was okay. When one or both of those two little bitches makes it out of state prison? Panic told me. They get one warning. That's it. And if he ever sees them, ever? He assumes they're coming for me or him or both of us, and that will be that.

   If it happens, it won't be the first person he ever killed, and far from it. If I help? Same here. Another thing we share, as we've both killed before. Neither one of us, has ever killed a woman before. I find it odd, that killing men? Didn't register with me, as a taboo. But for Panic? He talked with me about it. Killing a woman, even if he had no other choice... would be some final taboo.

   He asked me, what I wanted. Them both dead? Or... in a cage. Trust me, I wanted to wring their little necks. I could literally strangle both, one in each hand at the same time. I tower over these tiny coke tramps. But I chose cage.

   Why? I didn't want to take one of his few remaining taboos he had left. He admitted to me, as his therapist. He had a recurring fantasy. Two of them, actually. At first, it was just the one girl. We didn't know until the end, that the other one was in on it. His recurring daydreams? One was that he snapped her neck and threw her down the steps, then burned her rented little house down around her. After making sure her cat was out of the house, of course. The other one? He broke her back across his knee, like splitting a sapling. He had already thrown down a deer, to the wild pigs at the foot of the hill. He tossed her down, to be eaten, alive, by wild pigs.

   Not that I'd have minded, fulfilling either daydream. She tried to kill me, they both did. I picked cage. To spare him. This whole conversation, came about because he was distant and always staring at his phone. I quizzed him, and found out. He was fighting the fantasy? By taking his mind off it. I asked how. He handed me his phone. Took me a few seconds to get it. His background was rotating pictures of me. Laying out on Rape Rock as we had named it. Tan and oiled. Me posing after working out. I was already in love and knew it, this just cured the cement. Looking at me, made him feel better. I already made him sleep better. Nothing could have been sweeter and more romantic to me. Ironically, I was still a functional sociopath back then. I understood that I should feel that like a ton of bricks, not just as the little twinge it was.

   A millionaire, hell, a billionaire? Can't give me what he does.

   It was a gentle landing, at Bermuda. The pilots explained it. The small airport? Had a long runway, and it was oriented for the ever present wind direction created by the currents. Bermuda, it seems, is even paradise for pilots to land and take off again. Me and Panic were headed to see if we could book a hotel room. The pilots looked at us, and smiled. They said to follow them, they already had a place to stay.

   There was a Jeep at the airport, and they drove us. We got taken to some... big ultra modern looking beach house. It looked like big white cubes and rectangles, all different sizes, glued together at random. Of course. Francois was a multi-billionaire. Naturally, he had a small mansion on the beach in Bermuda. With a private beach. We were told it was safe to go swimming after dark, because they had shark nets.

   We went for a midnight walk on the beach. I'm fairly certain everyone knows, its a euphemism for a couple is going out to make love. On the sand, in the water, and in the wet sand, with the water breaking over you. This place really is... a paradise. Hot and humid, but with a light breeze going constantly. It makes it pleasant. At night? Its still warm. Its not cold, to go in the water. I have to shoo the servants away that live here, so I can cook for us. The pilots, naturally have stayed here enough times that they know all the staff by name, and know their way around the island.

   The Green Frog, and The Spoiled Princess... came in the next day, just after dark. The giant ship horns honking, the big balloons and giant lasers put on a show. Flares went off. The whole island is basically dedicated to nothing except tourism. Everyone goes to the docks, when big cruise liners pull in. There's girls dancing in native costumes, men doing fire torch dances. A band playing Caribbean sounding music. One of Panic's intellectual hobbies? He writes classical music. I'm sorry, excuse me. Its composing, not writing. He said the musicians? Are playing in poly-rhythm. I had to ask, he said its two time signatures at the same time. He recorded some on his phone, so he can study it later on.

   We spotted Elise and Francois's wife? Hand in hand, the little wife all but dragging Elise by the wrist, like an excited child pulling an adult along. Its obvious, its romantic. Elise is a full time lesbian. She wasn't that way, until she got violently raped and beaten almost to death. Then left for dead in an alley. The wife obviously took her new mistress, to get pampered on her own ship. The Spoiled Princess. I'd guess until I'm told otherwise, that the handsome young man in the expensive looking suit? Is the son that has the boat empire.

   It wasn't hard to spot Francois. He had Little Robbie and Skykid with him in tow. Francois reminded us. Our boat pass card keys? Is our ticket to the resort and everything in it. Free food and drinks. He said our cards would get us anything we wanted in the gift shops, too.

   This is the final destination, for the long cruise. Its the longest port of call, for obvious reasons. Its the crown jewel, of the cruise. You really don't know what to do first. Surfing lessons. Body surfing. Jet skis. Parasailing. Snorkeling the gorgeous coral reef. Scuba diving and spearfishing. Little ecology tours. They feed wild dolphins, that put on little shows for people in the shallows of the beach cove, to pet and swim with them. Dolphins are like Olympic gymnasts, that hold up signs that say... will work for food.

   Vladimir looks like he could cry. I know. He gets to pet the dolphins, for his dead wife and two children. We went with him, to the dolphin cove. He won't go in. He just watches everyone else enjoying it. I guess he can't bring himself, to say goodbye. He likes walking around in swim trunks here. No one seems to realize what his tattoos mean. Here? He's not the dangerous Russian mobster. He's just another big guy with some ink, on vacation.

   If a girl likes the big, strong silent type? And trust me, plenty of them do. He politely rebuffs pretty women essentially throwing themselves at him. Me, Francois and his wife, Little Robbie and Skykid. We all have a rich tan by this point. Panic has Irish blood, so he has fair skin. He got the big long sleeved T shirt and sweat pants made out of T shirt material. He laughed, as he put on what he calls his "dork cream". In addition to high SPF sunblock lotion, he smears the white stuff on his cheeks and nose and the tops of his ears. Like lifeguards wear. He likes the beach at night, a little more than during the day.

   We were coming back from a moonlight walk on the beach, and we passed Elise and a giggling billionaire's wife. They were going out for the same "walk", as we were coming back in. We stopped to gab for a few seconds. Elise is smiling, and her little girlfriend is giggling and just blushing up a storm. We asked with grins what they were up to. Elise grabbed her by the hair, and kissed her on the open mouth right in front of us. A hollowed out pineapple with a big straw for a drinking glass in one hand, a very pretty little woman in her other hand.

   "Actually? This one, is in trouble."

   I giggled.

   "And, what did she do."

   "She's a spoiled little brat. I told if she kept it up? I was going to spank her."

   "Hmm. I see."

   The little woman was blushing and giggling. She has simply the most endearing thick French accent.

   "I tell you, many time now, Elise. I... dare, you."

   We kissed on the beach, as they went for their little walk. They seem to have made it around the bend, and we could hear giggling and squealing, and laughter. Water splashes. It sounds as if Elise has to chase her, and catch her? To smack her cute little bare bottom. More noises, then you could just make out the light snapping sounds amid all the squealing and laughing.

   I kind of guessed years ago. That Elise would be the man, and her girlfriend the little feminine partner. Now I know, that's all. When I mentioned the beach huts? Francois nodded. He pointed out where to walk on his private beach. There were several. We went to one, for the night. I imitated as best I could, the thick French accent for Panic. The spoiled brat, with extra insouciance. This gets me taught a lesson. A rough lesson. One I very much enjoy. I'm getting to really enjoy it, being used like a cheap French whore.

   The noise came back up the beach, eventually. Elise and her new girlfriend are obviously in one of the other beach huts. The huts are spaced out, for some privacy. But not too much. You can hear the occasional squeal or scream over the night surf. Panic got some noises and the occasional scream out of me, so it was fair.

   In the early morning, as the sun was about to rise? We went back to the beach house. Elise now had a quiet and smiling girlfriend, who was much more subdued. I once again had to shoo the servant away, so I could make breakfast. Elise stopped me.

   "No way, Merry. You. Spoiled little brat. Make us breakfast. Get your little bottom moving."

   She swatted her butt in the string bikini playfully, to get her moving. Francois and the pilots and Vlad were up by now. Francois made some wisecrack in French, when his wife was cooking breakfast and making coffee. She pouted at him, in English with her thick accent.

   "And, some... husband, that you, are."

   "And, what did I now do. I do so many bad thing, I can lose track of them."

   "Hmm. You, do not... protect. Your own, wife."

   "Oh. Is that so."

   "Yes. That? Is... so."

   "What happened, then."

   She pointed the spatula at Elise.

   "She? Spank me. Look. She, leave... mark."

   She went back to the eggs and bacon, sizzling. Francois laughed easily.

   "Elise. Perhaps, you should do it, one more time. It seem, to be working."

   "If you don't mind."

   He waved his hand.

   "And what, did she get the swats for, eh?"

   Elise giggled. The wife pointed with the spatula again.

   "She say, I am... spoil, little, brat. She say, I? Deserve."

   "Well, honey. You are spoiled, you know."

   "I am, only... spoil, a little bit."

   "I know. I'm the one who spoiled you. And now? I want some more coffee. Right now. And, if I don't get it? Maybe, I tell Elise, to put you... over, her, knee. Teach you, another, little lesson."

   She feigned indignant, and filled all the coffee cups up. Elise pointed smiling, at the cream. She smiled and blushed, and added cream to Elise's coffee.

   "And what, will you girls do today, eh?"

   "Mm. I tell, Elise. I take her, to town."

   Francois giggled.

   "Elise?"

   "Yes."

   "Just, a suggestion. Perhaps, you should drive. My wife? Can do many thing, very well. Driving, however. Is not among, these thing."

   After breakfast, Elise and his wife left for town. I'd guess shopping, eating, maybe some sightseeing. Vlad and the pilots, were going snorkeling to see the coral reef. This place, really is amazing. When you see pictures, of that gorgeous deep cobalt blue water? It well might be, Bermuda. The sand is soft and a lighter color than I'm used to seeing. Its finer grained, almost white.

   Francois waved his hand, once alone with us.

   "And you now see. I will be alone, at night. For this stay, here. My wife? Is being, amused. And, where is my beautiful mistress. They take her, from me. I miss her. She was, very beautiful."

   He showed us a few pictures, on his phone. She was a real looker.

   "At least, they did not, kill her. As I suspect, is what happen, to my priest."

   Francois shook his head, and waved his hand.

   "And, you see. No matter, how much money, you can have? Life, can still be shit, some times."

   I asked.

   "Well, can't you just... get another, mistress?"

   He waved his hand again.

   "Eh. I do not want, that. A mistress? Is not just, another girlfriend. For just the fun. To some man, yes. Not, me. I was, very fond of her. I love her, almost as much, as I love my wife. But? She love, being an actress, I now see. Just a little bit more, than me. An actress, must be love, by the people. And when I became, The Devil? Well. They take her, from me, in that way. I will, always... miss her. You can buy, many thing? But... love, is not one of these thing."

   Another coffee sip, another dramatic French gesture.

   "They almost, take my wife."

   I asked how. Was she once in danger.

   "Not, in that way. But. When I was, the young man. And, the bad thing, happen? I was, not well. And one of the thing, was... not just my, mood was not pleasant, to be around. I had, trouble. With my wife. It went away, in time. But, I was very afraid."

   I'm all but a therapist. He had bad nightmares, he still gets up some nights, and has to walk around before going back to bed. He has PTSD. He can still see the pictures, flashing. The results, of the violence. Violence, that he unwittingly created. He's politely admitting, that he was largely impotent, for a while.

   "My priest, he say it. A man, can inherit the whole world? And yet, lose his soul. What is the point, even. Of being a billionaire. If the man, can not enjoy the pleasures of his wife, and beautiful mistress. Can you, imagine, these thing? I would see, unimportant people. In love. I know in my heart, they are not having, these thing. I was, jealous. Of even poor people. They, could still love."

   "It went away, though."

   He waved and nodded.

   "Thank, god, yes. When, my priest? Had me, make my plan. To help. It... came back. My wife? Stay with me. I love her more, for these thing. I like, my boat. And I like it, here. I am not, The Devil. On my boat, and on these island. Here? I am... the candy, man."

   He drummed his fingers on the table, sipping his coffee.

   "I would, not expect. You are American. To understand, my mistress."

   Actually, we can. Me and Panic, communicated with our faces and eyes. We politely explained? About Szarabjorna. Francois's face lit up. He was ecstatic. We did understand.

   "And? Where is, she at. Why is your mistress, not on the boat, with you, eh?"

   Panic politely reminded Francois. How they met. How they originally met. He nodded.

   "Ah. I forget, how we meet. Of course. But now? You, should bring her."

   We tried to tell him no, it was too much. He waved his hand at us.

   "It is, nothing. And tell me. What, is one more person. On the boat, eh? You must spoil, your mistress. Just a little bit. Or, must she, be at work."

   We texted Little Lightning. Would she like to join us, in Bermuda. And maybe for the cruise back. She owns her own audio and video editing house. She has cutters, and she can leave them. The computer logs, show how many hours they work. They get paid by the minute of finished and edited video, anyways. There's no way to lie, about work and pay.

   He texted the pilots.

   "The pilot? He say, tell her to be at the airport. They should be there, by noon. You did say, Washington DC. Yes?"

   We nodded.

   "Send her, these. On the phone."

   It was a photo of a business card.

   "Tell her, to not wait in lines. You show that, and she will go to the, nice lounge."

   We sent her and explained. She asked if she needed her passport. She has one, for sometimes flying to Canada for work once or twice a year. We told her, she probably wouldn't even need it.

   Francois all but beamed.

   "If she can get a ride, to the airport? She will be here, before it is dark."

   We tried to tell him it was too much. He waved us off.

   "I do not brag. But, I ask you. What, is even the point. Of having, hundreds of billions, of dollars. If you can not, make people happy."

   We talked about Light a little, and he asked to see pictures of her. He smiled.

   "She is, beautiful. You are, a very lucky man. My wife? Has a new friend. I will sleep, alone. And you? Will have two, beautiful women. I will be jealous? Of you, now. She love you?"

   Panic nodded.

   "And, you see it. All my money. And you? Will have two. And? I will have none. My priest, I speak of him. He teach me. If I can not, make myself, happy? I am to make other people, happy. And these, will make me feel good. And, he was right. He change, my life. I will always, miss him. Very much."

   I don't know why its like that, but it is. The best mentors, that take you under their wing, and teach you karma? The universe takes them early. They say only the good die young. His priest, might not have known he was mentoring karma? But he was. Francois embraced some of the basic concepts. No fear of death. You have to live your life, by a code. The code comes before everything else, even and especially, before thoughts of your own survival.

   There's no other way to die with that smile on your face. No begging, no bargaining. You know you lived your life right, you know you made a difference and did the right thing. How in the hell, if you pardon the pun, a Catholic priest had basic karma and was able to mentor it? Is beyond me. Francois doesn't even realize what all he's embraced fully. Well, he does... he just calls it something else.

   Panic, and now me. We both marvel at him. Both of us, lost our Catholic faith we were so carefully raised and steeped in. The priest, over time, must have found a way to make it work. Its the final step your karma mentor grants you. He completely removes, your fear of death. Wiz had it, and Panic has an even bigger dose of it. Francois embraced it so fully and completely, its almost unreal. His plan, so carefully crafted and prepared? Can't be stopped, even after his death.

   He's convinced, it will only piss off his investors. They'll work even harder to see it through. Wiz and now Panic, both follow the teachings of Sun-Tzu. When a man embraces his mortality, and his own death? It frees him. A man afraid of death, can't truly live to the full. Freed from the shackles of death, a man is able to accomplish nearly anything. And when a man fights over what he perceives to be his imminent grave? Something comes out of him.

   Panic is dreading, trying to explain it to Rob and Sky. That The Devil isn't, he's more of a Gold Messiah, than some kind of living devil. They need to protect him with their lives. What he's doing, is far too important. Panic admits to me, that he feels shame. He only learned to fight. And in the end? It not only accomplished nothing, it more over had him used as one of the pawns to evil ends.

   We like sitting in the surf at night, talking like we normally would in the tub or in bed. Its when he'll open up, and we have our deep conversations. I assured him, time and over again. I can't find one shred of liar signals, when Francois speaks. He looks up and off, towards the math and logic hemisphere of his brain. He aims his right eye at you, when he's talking about those subjects. He believes that he's a holy warrior, ordained by god. To fight god's enemies.

   He has two sons, to replace him twice over when he dies. He's filled them with his beliefs. Panic chuckled in the surf, talking. That's what he's actually jealous of Francois for. Not the money. Not the power. He has sons, and he's proud of how they turned out. I hope they're sigma males too, like Francois seems to be and as I know for damn sure, that Panic is. Because if the world doesn't start selecting for the sigma males, instead of breeding them out over time? We're all doomed, in the end of all things.

   Sigma males, are all that stands between regular people, the betas. Which are the bulk of the world's population. And the bad alphas. Comic books? Are really analogies to real life. There are a few men and even a few women around, that seem to be larger than life. They stand up, while the explosions go off or whatever other hell the evil men bring with them. They point at the devil and his minions? And they laugh. The sense of humor at such times? Its infectious.

   We used to have a lot of these men around. We won world war two, because of them. These are the men, that you can read their last letters home. We have to take the beach, and establish an LZ on European soil. Most of us won't make it. Give my infant son, my gold watch. That my father that fought in world war one bought, when he made it home with two arms and one leg. I love you, I know you love me. Make sure my son knows I loved him, when he's old enough to understand.

   Then? Before dawn broke, they poured onto the beaches. They took horrific casualties, and kept coming. They knew they were out-gunned. Out-manned. The German tanks were superior. They had fortified defensive positions. They knew the basic plan. If you keep pouring men at the problem? A few will finally get through and once we have that beach head, we have it and we can start the real work.

   Why? Simple. Because that's all monsters understand. Pissed off villagers, who get the pitchforks and torches out, and come for them. Watch any of the old black and white monster movies. There's only one man or a few men, that rile the villagers up. Come on. Just stand up.

   It was the first real defeat for the axis powers in world war two. Everything available poured into those beach heads, and started taking ground. Mile by mile, they fought for every inch of it. You either died, or went insane. Those that didn't die, and kept their sanity? Came home changed. Forever. And those men were highly prized by the women at home. They bred with them, and we enjoyed a proper society for quite some time afterwards.

   These men were scared of nothing. Hard work? What, no one's shooting at me, trying to keep me from doing my job. As wrong as it certainly is, its mother nature's way. Large wars? Are to ensure survival of the fittest. And that's who gets to breed. When a man makes it back home, after all of that? How do you frighten him. How do you threaten him. What. I'll kill you? They'll laugh at you.

   Panic says it. The devil? The real devil. He has a couple of tricks, and no real power. He can convince you he doesn't exist. Once known to exist, his next weapon is nothing but simple fear. It only takes one man, to stand up and point at the devil and laugh. Wizzy, would sit and watch the Wizard of Oz, with Szarabjorna when she was finally starting to heal. He knew. His nickname? He was the Wizard. You peek behind the curtain, where the smoke and fire and scary booming voice seems to come from? You find something not very scary at all.

   You just need a handful of good men. A couple of born leaders, true alphas. Men like Little Robbie. They get their able and capable number two's. Men like Panic and Skykid. The men follow them, eagerly. Guys? If we're dead anyways, what the hell you got to be afraid of. Lets just take it to them. Men need examples, and when they find it? They follow it, eagerly.

   Then? You can charge hell with a bucket of ice water, and you have your even chance to win.

   These men are spread out around the world. When Hitler was touring Switzerland, he was impressed with the shooting that all the men displayed. He famously was quoted. You are a million men, and you shoot very well. But tell me. What if we suddenly attacked with two million men. What would you do? The leader answered quick.

   We will all shoot twice? Then go home.

   Hitler never attacked Switzerland.