Quagmire's Gate

by Allan E Petersen

  Congressman Tait was on board the ‘Blue Seas’. Oblivious to the great undulating folds of obesity oozing over the belt of his Bermuda shorts he strutted back and forth on the deck. There was a nervous edge about him. All morning he had befuddled his crew with seemingly frivolous requests. He forgot he had gotten up early and had already eaten breakfast. Yet he now once again asked for his breakfast. The Kitchen was quick to snap alert and soon he was wolfing down his second meal before 10 AM.

  For another hour, he paced the upper deck struggling with a terrible inner dilemma. He knew what he had to do. Part of him dearly wanted to but a small doubt nudged at his conscience. He had never killed anybody before. He stopped at the railing and gazed down onto the foredeck looking at his wife of equal girth basking on a sturdy lounger. She was clad in a large yellow muumuu greatly contrasted by a red wide brim sun hat. The deck boy approached her with a Sangria garnished with a fresh tiny umbrella. She sneered at the poor servile lad but he was experienced enough to quickly turn his back and flee.

  The Congressman understood that the crew hated his wife almost as much as he did. This marriage was not made in heaven but rather at the behest of his family for the sake of a political career. Gazing down at his nemesis, he wondered if it was worth it all. Bug eyes peered out from under the wide brim sun hat to spot her husband on the upper deck looking down at her. She returned the contemptuous look with a growl.

  As a young woman brought up under the glow of silver spoons and unlimited buying power, she had learned to be arrogant toward servants. Early in her life, she reminded them that it was their place to serve her relentlessly. Congressman Tait was just the opposite. Knowing early in youth that a political gain was his rightful destiny, he learned to falsify gratitude and appreciation for those who served him. Still looking down at her, he snorted and walked away.

  Once on the aft deck he reached for his cell phone and a thick finger punched a long series of numbers. He pressed it to his ear and waited impatiently for the proper codes to run the gauntlet. When General Irsthill responded, the Congressman said,

  “What is the news on the Gate of the Under? Is it getting bigger?”

  The General was happy to report,

  “Yes, and it grows bigger with each passing minute. There is no doubt that this is the gate to the Under we have been searching for.”

  The Congressman seemed jubilant, grinning as he said,

  “That is good news indeed.”

  The General then demanded,

  “Have you set in motion the order I gave you to retrieve the sacrifice?”

  “Yes General. I dispatched two competent supporters of our organization after the ‘other of man’ just after you called. The sacrifice will be there on time. You will have her in approximately twelve hours.”

  “Very well. It is time to prepare. Are you willing to do what must be done?”

  “Yea General, I fully understand my obligation to the great Master of the Under. I will do what is required.”

  He slowly walked back to the other end of the ship and again looked down on the hateful woman. The deck hand standing beside her looked up at him as if asking if there was anything else. The Congressman nodded and indicated for him to come up to him. Dutifully he sprang into action and was quickly beside the Congressman.

  “Yes Sir?”

  As always, he was very amiable to the staff. He asked the young man a very strange question, one that put him back a step or two.

  “How long have you been with me Ramon?”

  Hesitantly, for he did not understand the intent of the blunt question Ramon softly said,

  “Twelve years Sir.”

  Knowing it was something like that, the Congressman nodded and said,

  “I want you and your staff to take the afternoon off. Please inform them of their opportunity. I also want you to tell the Captain and his crew to leave the ship. I want to be alone with my wife today. Before you go, make sure that her glass is full. We wouldn’t want her to get upset at us.”

  Because Ramon knows the Congressman never wants to be left alone with his wife, he grew suspicious. However, he was also wise enough not to question him. Snapping to attention, he nodded and sped off to tell everyone the good news.

  From the upper deck, he observed the crew abandon ship in the lifeboat for friendlier shores. He then looked down and stared at his wife. She was still there covering the lounger with her great girth. Sensing that somebody was staring at her, she lowered her magazine and looked up so see her husband. She grunted and returned to the importance of her reading material.

  He snorted like a pig and judging from the sneer, he somehow enjoyed her insolence. Awkwardly he struggled down the stairs and onto the deck below. A quick look in the kitchen confirmed the cook had left the ship. Down some more narrow steps, he found himself in unfamiliar territory, the engine room. A quick look around confirmed the mechanic too had taken advantage of his generosity.

  For a second he became disorientated. He thought the lever was to the right of the engines. He had never done anything like this before so naturally nervousness surged through him. Within minutes, the correct electrical box was located. He knew what he had to do and even though he intended to do it, he was still shaking. An anxious hand reached up and pulled down hard on the lever. Looking at his watch, he calculated his escape time.

  As he pointed the dingy away from the yacht, it struggled to support his great weight. The small outboard engine sputtered and tried its best to keep the dingy moving forward, away from the yacht. There was another boat waiting for him in the distance. As arranged, the yacht was between the shore and the waiting rescue boat. If any of the crew on the shore had cared to look toward the yacht, they would not have seen the fleeing Congressman. It was a well thought out plan.

  Ramon was standing on the shore talking to the crew discussing what had happened. Confused, he told them how the Congressman never wanted to be left alone with his wife. Suddenly there was a massive explosion on the yacht. They all turned to see a great fireball engulf the ship. Wind carried a smell of diesel and death to them. Within seconds, the only thing left of the yacht was smoke and flames. On the ensuing waves, he saw a wide brim sun hat bobbing up and down.

  Chapter 15

  Terri in Paris

  The evening air in Paris was cool and pleasant. After long tedious hours spent cramming for exams the fresh breeze felt good on Terri’s frazzled nerves. She was unwinding with two best friends at a sidewalk café on the Rue Bonneville just a few minutes from the University. It was a popular hangout for the students. Terri liked it because it was a popular English quarter. She never felt comfortable speaking French. The most important consideration of all, it was a great place to meet men her own age.

  The tables are full with reveling students, some drinking to celebrate and some to drown their sorrows. It all depended on the results of the finals. Terri was celebrating. It was time for another beer so she flagged down the waiter. He saw her and understood the communiqué. He also understood what was going to happen when approaching her table. Teasingly, she always lifted his apron and asked if there was any Scottish in him. Being French, he had no idea what she was talking about. However, she tipped well and so it was an acceptable humiliation.

  He asked them what they wanted in French and Terri saw it as permission to counter the move in her native tongue.

  “Well mate. How about we start with a round of Stubbies for my cobbers here.”

  Confused, he made the mistake of hesitating and so she reached for the bottom of his apron. Deloris was the spitting image of Terri, young, blond and oozed seductive haughtiness. The principle difference was that she spoke French. Looking up at the poor man, Delores said in French,

  “That is what she wants, so be careful.”

  As the girls laughed, Delores again said in French,

  “Bring us three more beers.”

  As he turned to go, Terri’s hand again playfully reached out for his apron and sai
d,

  “On your bike mate, hop like a Boomer.”

  The more the beer, the greater the giggling and more money tossed at their embarrassed boy toy. Kate was the conservative one. She drank slowly and conservatively, which explained the two full glasses in front of her. Terri was not shy about helping her catch up, reaching for one of hers. Smiling at the shy Kate, Terri said,

  “You aren’t close to getting yourself drunk by just sipping them girl.”

  Kate defended herself.

  “What is it with you Aussies? You seem to be born to drink beer like a Frenchman drinks wine. You’re going to be plastered by the time anybody comes over to hit on us.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about me. I’ll be ready to give the first good looking one a fair go.”

  Suddenly both Kate and Deloris turned bashful, almost Beet red. They were looking at something behind Terri. Curiosity forced her to turn around. She was looking up into the bedroom eyes of just about the most handsome man in Paris. Greased back black hair, young and bearing the greatest aphrodisiac of all, he was tanned. Not just sun tanned but obviously Riviera suntanned. He beamed white teeth as white as the sands of the Great Barrier Reef at her.

  He reached for the empty chair and plunked himself down beside her. Before she had a chance to let out a gasp, he had already put his arm over her shoulder. She was not too slow either. She was looking into eyes melting her faster than an ice cube in a microwave. Beer and giddiness were combining to make her very susceptible to his advances. Recognizing a green light, he seductively placed his playful hand on her bare knee. It tickled. Being full of giddiness, she said,

  “My, my, aren’t you the randy one.”

  In his best English, he corrected her.

  “No mon Cheri, my name is not Randy, it is Philip.”

  “Well, where I’m from randy means wanker.”

  He had no idea. Even Kate and Deloris exuded puzzlement. She caught on and annoyingly explained,

  “Horny as a two pecker Kangaroo. What do I have to do to be understood around here?”

  Before long, two other young pirates sat at the table plundering the inebriated loot. The waiter could not get the empties off the table fast enough. Each man was competing with the other for the tab. All six knew it was going to be a great night. Terri was the first to feel the effects of too many beers and so looked at Kate and said,

  “I need to get myself to the Dunny before it backs up into my throat, how about you?”

  Kate saw no reason for leaving her catch unguarded and said,

  “No thank you girl. You go to the bathroom and I’ll guard Philip for you.”

  Terri did not like the wicked way Kate was batting her eyelashes.

  Because she did not want to be away too long, Terri pulled a record for dashing in and out of the bathroom. When hurrying back, just two tables away she suddenly stopped short and looked perplexingly at her friends. The girls were still there as were the boys, thank goodness, but there was somebody else there too. He was older but obviously not of the University crowd. Terri got the impression that he had asked her friends something and they were replying. What she did not like about him was his black suit. His hair was neat and trimmed, indicative of military personnel. She was sure there was bad news afoot concerning her mom.

  The man looked up and saw her approach. She stopped behind the still seated Philip and put trembling hands on his muscled shoulders. The man asked,

  “Are you Terri Gray, daughter of Doctor Lynda Gray?”

  She never liked this type of person. Right from the start, she was reminded of the stories her dad related about secret service in the military. She countered with a question of her own.

  “Is my mom okay?”

  Remaining stoic, he repeated the question.

  “Are you Terri Gray?”

  Suddenly pleasant thoughts of a night with Philip disappeared and fear rapidly surfaced. As a daughter of military parents, she had been subjected to this sort of inflexibility before. She had been in enough trouble with base Military Police to recognize the training. Obviously, this agent was not military but the training was there.

  As a youth growing up inside military compounds, more than once she jumped a fence bearing a sign, ‘No Trespassing.’ Drinking with Noncommissioned personnel and arrested for other shenanigans was a common occurrence. Each time an irate as well as embarrassed mother had to bale her out. She knows when something smells bad and this man was straight from the fish factory.

  She also knew there was only one way to get an answer from him. Putting on her best sober face, she sucked in a deep breath and conceded to his demand.

  “Yes I am Mate. Has this got anything to do with my mother?”

  His stony coldness surprised her somewhat.

  “You’re going to have to come with me Miss.”

  Defense kicked in and she felt hair rising at the back of her neck. This was not what you are supposed to say when arresting a suspect. She knew something was wrong and she knew how to test authority.

  “I’m afraid not mate. If you want me to come with you there better be an envelope with orders in that pretty suit of yours.”

  He nodded, put his hand into his breast pocket and said,

  “I have my orders right here.”

  Instead of papers, it was a handgun. Although Terri was not surprised, the rest of the table certainly was. With a quick flick of his head, he indicated for the rest of the table to leave. All three young men quickly dashed away while Kate and Deloris were too stunned to stand up.

  Not wanting to cause a scene right here, Terri faked submissiveness. The man turned to look at a silver Mercedes parked two spaces down the street. A door opened and she knew what she had to do. The girls remained seated, staring in disbelief. She turned to them and said,

  “Don’t worry girls. I am sure it just has something to do with my mom. You try your best to get those fellas back and I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  With mouths agape, they nodded in unison.

  At the car, Terri knew that if she was going to make her move it had to be before getting in. He was stone faced and she read nothing good about him. She had been in enough fights with boys to know exactly what to do. Just before bending over and getting in, she looked the man straight in the eyes and said,

  “Yea know, where I’m from we raise a lot of sheep on hundreds of acres.”

  He was undeterred by what he saw as a stalling tactic.

  “Get in the car.”

  She bravely continued.

  “I was thinking that if you want to get started on sheep farming I’m in a position to give you two acres.”

  “Last time, get in the car.”

  Suddenly a stabbing blinding pain from his groin shot up his spine. The groin kick expelled every ounce of breath from his lungs and he dropped to the ground. As she ran away, she yelled back,

  “There are your two acres.”

  Before he could recover enough to stand, she had disappeared in the crowd. What she did not see was the driver’s door fling open and another black suit running after her.

  After a block of running and bumping into the strolling people on the crowded boulevard, she reasoned that she was safe. She knew that her failed abductor could not give chase and so slowed down to a hastened walk. When being chased, there is a natural tendency to eventually turn around and check on the margin of safety. As she did, she was surprised to see the other suit bearing down on her. It was too late. He was already in the air taking a full leap at her.

  Before she could duck out of the way, he tackled her to the ground. The crowd dispersed, giving them plenty of room to roll about. Before they had rolled over once, a knee to the groin introduced him to the panorama of exploding stars. As he doubled over in pain, she jumped to her feet and as per training, took a second to scan her surroundings. Where was she? Which direction was safest to run? As she quickly looked about, seeing the stunned crowd staring at her, she saw the Silver Mercedes speeding to
ward her.

  Darting eyes saw a young man sitting on a scooter observing the action. She made an impulsive mad dash at him. Puzzled, he wondered why a desperate and beautiful woman was running straight at him. Just as he flashed a bashful smile, she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and tossed him off the scooter. The only reason he did not land on his butt was that he had smashed into a policeman chasing her. Upon contact, both crashed to the ground in a tangled heap. The stunned boy looked up just in time to see his precious scooter racing away with what he thought was going to be his lucky day.