by Jake Devlin
“From men? Really?”
“Yeah, mostly from husbands whose wives got some new ideas from my books. That's gratifying.”
“I'd imagine it is.”
“But most of it comes from women, of course.”
“I'm sure.”
“Nice to know that all day long, 24/7, newly awakened women, mostly post-menopausal, around the world are having orgasms.”
“From reading your books.”
“Yeah.”
“I can imagine. That bit you let me use was great.”
“I know.”
“Oh, Dallas, your modesty is overwhelming.”
“Modesty is a waste of energy.”
“Especially the false kind.”
“Y'got that right, Gordy.
“Anyhow, that mating instinct drives all kinds of stuff.”
“The sex drive.”
“Yeah. Animals and birds have evolved all sorts of plumage and rituals to attract a mate. And women get their faces lifted, boobs done and butts sculpted for the same reason.”
“So they can have kids and grandkids, perpetuate the species. Biology 101.”
“And to make that happen, we evolved so that sex just feels damned good.”
“Moreso for women than for men.”
“Yeah; that's what the research shows.”
“And yet y'all expect us to pay for dinner.”
“Not so much anymore, Gordy. But my point is that sex just feels damned good. It's biology, in spite of all the social, psychological and religious stuff that's been layered on top of it. It just feels good.”
“Especially the foreplay.”
“F'sure. But intercourse and the orgasm are what really counts.”
“Again, more for women.”
“Yeah.
“So GARF, as crude as he is, gets” –
“GARF?”
“Get-A-Room-Frank.”
“Oh, right; Frank.”
“He gets pretty close to the concerns every woman has about every man she meets with the first two of his questions.”
“Right, the – oh, shit; I've forgotten. Damned Quarterheimer's.”
“Okay. First, she asks herself 'Am I attractive enough that he'd want to give me an orgasm?'”
“Mm-hmm. And he sets a very low bar; most of his women aren't attractive at all.”
“Y'got that right, Gordy.”
“He'd never go after someone as good-looking and smart as you.”
“True.”
“Ah, there's that modesty again.”
“Hey, Gordy, I know what I look like.”
“Especially in that teeny-weeny bikini.”
“You like it?”
“Oh, yeah. You know what they say about bikinis?”
“What?”
“They're designed to highlight what they hide.”
“Ah-ha.”
“And that one certainly does.”
“Yeah. 'Lift and separate.'”
“Certainly does that, too.”
“As they say, 'If you got it, flaunt it.'”
“Flaunt away, ma'am.”
“Uh-huh. So back to GARF. Remember his answer to the second question?”
“Uh, yeah. It was 'Maybe.'”
“And the question was?”
“Uh – nope; gone.”
“'Does he seem like a man who could give me a good one?'”
“A good what?”
“Orgasm, Gordy, a good orgasm.”
“Oh, right; sorry.”
“Then the third question, he starts to move his quarry to action.”
“Ah, right. 'Will we be doing it here and now?'”
“Well, 'in the next ten minutes,' actually.”
“Right.”
“And then he's ready for her objections, whatever they may be.”
“Right. The stuff about her feeling neglected, letting herself go, putting on a few pounds” –
“Right; all that. Plus he's been schmoozing her for a good half hour, paying attention to her, saying and doing all the right social things, sneaking in a few double entendres, working had to get her all wet down below.”
“And then he pounces.”
“Uh-huh; and then he pounces.”
“And they wind up out here in the water.”
“Uh-huh. Right about where we are.”
“Maybe out a little deeper.”
“The deeper, the better, Gordy. Or so they say.”
“So they do.”
“Wanna go a little deeper?”
“I'd like that.”
“Oh, I know you will; I'll make sure of that.”
“Just until Rosemary gets here, okay?”
“Sure. And she can join in when she does, if she wants.”
“Oh, I'm pretty sure she will.”
“Now that that's settled, can I try out a line of dialogue on you?”
“Sure, Dallas, go for it.”
“'I'll let you play with my girly bits if you'll let me play with your manly bit.' Whatcha think?”
“Yeah, it's good. For your next book?”
“Yeah. Deep enough here?”
“Yup.”
“Well, now you can go even deeper.”
“I'd like that.”
“Oh, good; something's hard as a rock.”
“Oh, surprise, surprise.”
- 111 -
June 19, 2013
1:13 p.m. local time
St. Tropez, France
“Is he going to be okay, Doc?”
“I've got a pulse, very weak, and he's breathing, but only with the mask. Our ambulance is on the way, and we'll have him in our clinic in half an hour or less, get him stabilized, and then I can run some tests, see if we can pin it down. I should have a better diagnosis and prognosis after that.”
“Oh, geez, Doc.”
“He was healthy as a horse the last time I examined him. Has this ever happened before?”
“No, no, never.”
“Anything unusual in the last few days?”
“Uh, he got a little woozy in the hot tub earlier today and a little dizzy when he was getting out. And he twisted his back doing the job in Toulon night before last.”
“Ah, yes; that was the” –
“Oh, I don't – maybe he got some of the – oh, geez.”
“Some of the what?”
“The poison we used; maybe he got some of that on his skin somewhere.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Bad?”
“Very bad. That stuff is lethal even in a tiny amount.”
“Oh, god! He's not going to die, is he?”
“If that's what it is, that's a strong possibility. It was the DP-974, right?”
“I think it – right, 974, right.”
“Ah. Get some ice, as much as you've got, as fast as you can.”
“Okay.”
“Hurry! And anything else in the freezer.”
“We've got a chest freezer in the kitchen. I'll need some help to get all” –
“Even better. Help me carry him. Good – oh, put the bottle on his chest. Good. Got him?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, on three; one, two, three. Oof!”
“Geez.”
“Careful. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Okay; let me get the lid. Now set him in there. Gently.”
“Okay. You're not gonna close the lid, are you?”
“Yeah.”
“But” –
“Don't worry; he can breathe from the bottle.”
“I know. But we've gotta move this stuff outa the way. Okay.”
“Ah, good. Have any ice in the fridge?”
“Yeah, the tray in the icemaker should be full.”
“Anything else in there?”
“Steaks, fish, ice cream, veggies” –
“Pour the ice on his stomach and I'll get the rest of” –
“Got the ice, and I can manage some of this other
stuff, too.”
“Okay. And I've got – Neapolitan?”
“We go through a lot of it.”
“Oh, good; hard as a rock. Okay. Pack it all around him, tight.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah; good. That should work.”
“Oh, god, I hope you're right.”
“Me, too.
“Trevor, Doc Logan. Change of plans. Stop somewhere and get some ice, enough to fill a couple of body bags. Right; got to keep him cold. When you get here, we'll open the garage so you can back the van in. Oh, you are? Not the plumbing van? Good; unmarked is better. Okay. Give me a buzz when you're on the street. Right. No, you'll see my car out front.
“Pam, what color is the garage door?”
“Ah, blue, bright blue. And just one car in there.”
“Good. Trevor, bright blue garage door. Good; okay. Give me a buzz when you get here. Bye.
“Belinda, Doc here. Get the cryo-chamber fired up. Got a male patient coming in, anonymous, need to get his BT down. No, T as in temperature, not P. What? Speak up. Well, maybe you need to get some new batteries. Who's on with you? Frances or Adina or – oh, good. Have Frances set it at ten degrees to start, with full life support, and then prep for a MIC. We should be there in half an hour, give or take. Good.”
“Ten degrees? You're gonna freeze him?”
“Celsius, Pam, about 50 Fahrenheit.”
“Oh. Right. And who's Mick?”
“No, no; it's an acronym. Medically Induced Coma.”
“You're gonna put him in a coma?”
“Yes. We want to get his body temp down to about eighty, slow down his metabolism, and keep it there while we let the antidote work.”
“How long will that take?”
“I don't know. If it took a day and a half to hit him, there can't be that much in his system, but this is the first chance we've had to use this antidote. So I just can't tell. Could be hours, could be days, weeks, even months. I just don't know.”
“Oh, god.”
“But now, let me ask, what was he doing when he collapsed?”
“Well, Doc, uh” –
“Go ahead, Pam; it's me.”
“Well, we were making love.”
“Energetically?”
“Oh, yeah, very.”
“And?”
“He just collapsed on me, flattened me right out on my stomach.”
“So he was” –
“Oh, no, no, Doc, not that way. Normal, just in that position.”
“Okay. And?”
“No sound, just collapsed, dead weight on my back. So I rolled him off me, checked his pulse, found none, started CPR, called Amber” –
“Who called me.”
“I guess so; right. And I kept that up until I felt a pulse, then kept checking him until you got here.”
“You did everything right, Pam. He's a very lucky man.”
“I hope so. Lemme go check on him.”
- 112 -
August 17, 2014
10:35 a.m. local time
Raqqa, Syria
“Oh, shit, CB!”
“Got him; one down.”
“And one for me.”
“Up on the roof! Got him.”
“Here comes – ah, thank you.”
“No problem.”
“Where'd he come from? Ah.”
“Nice shot, JB.”
“Thanks, CB. And there's – ah-ha, from that door.”
“At last, one with a gun. These guys really are Stone Age, huh?”
“Yeah. Good shot.”
“Thanks. And – ah, got the one behind him, too.”
“And another one with a big knife. Gone. What are these guys, extras in an Illinois Jones flick?”
“Could be, JB, could be. But now let's see what's behind Door Number Dead.”
“Cover me, CB, and I'll – ow! Oh, shit!”
“Cramp still?”
“Yup. I'll cover you, okay?”
“Yeah.
“Okay, JB. Come on.”
“Right. Ow, oh, ouch, ow. You wanna break it down, or should I?”
“Lemme check the latch first.”
“Ah; good idea.”
“Okay; good.”
“Cross-spray on open?”
“Of course. On three. One, two” --
“Wait; earbud's out again. Okay.”
“On three. One, two, three.”
“Ah-ha. Let's see what we got.”
“Oh, two still moving. Not anymore.”
“Here's our target, CB. No pulse.”
“Video, mine or yours?”
“I'll do it. Okay; done. Let's get outa here.”
“Don't think we should take the pedi; screw the deposit.”
“Right; we can afford to lose that.”
“F'sure, JB. How's the cramp?”
“Still there.”
“Can you walk?”
“I think so.”
“I'll hold you up, as a good sister would, and maybe we can make it outa this maze and find a car to steal.”
“That'll work, I think.”
“Got the 'Can't speak, deaf and dumb' cards?”
“Yup, right here.”
“Guns holstered, padded, quieted?”
“Yup. Yours?”
“Yeah. So lean on me and let's go.”
“Okay. Oh, ow.”
- 113 -
January 9, 2014
9:24 a.m. local time
Near Paris, France
“We still don't know, Amber; we just don't know. No, no luck with that. Doc tried it again this morning, but nothing, same as the first five times. So he hooked him right back up, said he'd maybe try again next month. He'd thought it'd all be purged in a few weeks, and it hasn't shown up in any of the tox screens since August, so it must be some residual effects or something else keeping him under. But all his tests are negative; we're totally perflutzed.
“No, no idea on that, either. There's activity in there, but no way to tell how much damage might have been done. For all we know, he might be hearing everything that's going on around him, and I believe that, so I'm reading him the news every day, every single day. Or maybe he's off in some total fantasy dream world. We don't know. What? No, they're closed. Some REM occasionally and a tiny bit of lid fluttering, but that's it. Uh, maybe up to once every three days now. It was only about once a month when Doc first put him under.
“Yeah, I'm right here with him. Sure. Jake, Amber wants to tell you another joke. Okay; go ahead, Amber.
“Sorry, Amber; nothing, and nope, nothing on the scopes. Maybe I oughta see if JJ could come over; he responded well to her back when – what? No, I haven't told her, haven't told anybody anything. Nope. Just you, me, Doc and his staff, and they're all sworn to secrecy. They don't even know who he is. Yeah, anonymous. Okay, so no JJ. Just a thought. No, I promise.
“Yeah, they come in every day and work with him, so his tone is still pretty good – well, as good as we can expect. What? Yeah, I do, about twice a week, and that part still works fine, just fine. Nah, just oral. But I hope he can tell what's going on there, at least at some level.
“No, no, no, I don't even want to think about that. He's going to come out of it. No, no; he will, he will, goddammit! He's gonna wake up and say, 'I'm baack,' and he'll be back to completely normal. Don't even – what? He did what? No, I don't believe you. No, no, Amber, I'm not; I'm sorry. It's just so unbelievable. Why would he do something like that, especially without telling me? Well, I know that, but I'm not qualified. What? But why not you or Wes or Gordy? I mean, you've been with him for decades, and I've only known him for what, less than three years. Oh, right; forgot about that. But even so, how well could he know me? Really? Yeah, I would be surprised. Can I see it? Yeah, the whole dossier. So soon? Wow. Yeah, fine; thank you.
“But on his will, it's all moot, 'cause he's gonna come out of it. He will, Amber, he will, goddammit! He will!
“Okay, okay. Oka
y; focused. Yeah. I wanna read it all. I'll go and download it right now. Thanks. Bye.
“Gotta run down the hall for a few minutes, Jake. But I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, okay? And you will come out of this. Just stay off the skateboard, okay?”
- 114 -
August 24, 2014
11:46 a.m. local time
Bonita Beach, Florida
“Well, that was fun.”
“It was, wasn't it?”
“Yup.”
“Just one for me.”
“Two for me.”
“I had three.”
“But you started earlier, Dallas.”
“Yeah, I did. But yours was pretty explosive.”
“I know. Hope nobody heard it.”
“Well, you know sound travels more over water.”
“I know, Gordy. I tried to be quiet.”
“Well, I was facing shore, and I think I saw a couple of people look out our way.”
“And I saw Gaetano give us a thumbs-up.”
“No!”
“Yeah, Rosemary; I saw it.”
“I missed that, too, Dallas.”
“Ah, but you were pretty deeply engaged.”
“That Gaetano is a lot like Frank.”
“Another sniffer?”
“Yes, Dallas; depraved and disgusting.”
“Just his style, Ro.”
“Well, I don't like it, Gordy.”
“I know, Ro, I know.”
“If he ever even tries to talk to me, I'll slap him silly.”
“He won't, Ro; you're way too pretty. And you are, too, Dallas.”
“Thanks, Gordy.”
“Yeah; thanks.”
“Ready for some more, Gordy?”
“Not yet, Ro; thanks.”
“Dallas?”
“Oh, maybe a little.”
“Okay.”
“What's the green stuff in there, Ro?”
“This stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“Parsley.”
“Parsley?”
“Yeah, thought I'd try it one time, see how you like it.”
“Just this one time?”
“Yeah.”
“I like it, Rosemary.”
“Oh, good. Gordy?”
“Yeah, it adds a certain savoir faire – what?”
“Savoir faire? Sure that's what you mean?”
“Well, Dallas, I guess not; I'll defer to your sage judgment.”
“I think you might mean 'saveur élégante.'”