by John Gubert
Maria explained, “The watches send a signal that is generated by your body. We will get you to wear them for a bit and the computer will recognise your body rhythm. It’s new technology but it’s a mixture of your heartbeat, your breathing and your body make up. It’s impossible to imitate because there are too many variables.”
“What will you do when you are ashore?” I asked the girls.
“Oh, there’s plenty of things around for amusement,” said Claire. “We won’t be bored.”
“I wanted to know if we needed you, how we could get hold of you?” I asked coolly.
Alberto nodded his approval again. I was adopting the right no nonsense approach and thinking through the risks of different situations.
“Tell us in advance if you can,” said Maria. “Otherwise bleep us. You’ll have a bleeper. If for one reason or another, that can’t be done, we have the lookout that will always know where we are. He’ll contact us.”
Our luggage was loaded and unpacked. There were plenty of places to stow things away. Alberto left and said, “See you around.” He looked on me as a good pupil now. I was not going to do anything stupid.
We set sail, or rather motor, immediately. The girls knew how to handle the boat. Within the hour, Bridgetown was a distant speck and we were alone on the blue sea. A few other boats on the horizon were our only companions.
I donned a pair of swimming trunks and a T-shirt. I remained bare footed. Jacqui slipped on a bikini. I guess it was four triangles of differing sizes held together by a delicate series of strings. Over that she wore a floor length matching beach dress, with a zip left open to her stomach and a slit up the side to her hips. Once again she managed to find a material that gleamed with eroticism and a cut that accentuated all that was wonderful about her body. Every movement became an erogenous act. I guessed it was going to be hard concentrating on the sun and sea as we had planned.
We headed to the upper deck. On the way I tied a gun beneath the wheel on the lower one, having taped another under the bed in our room. The final one I now taped on the upper deck, beneath the rear seat. I hoped we would not need to use them.
“Wise,” said Claire who had been watching us. “I doubt you’ll need them. But if you want to survive in this business, you take a few precautions and avoid a few risks. I have checked the boat for bugs. There are none. I have also activated our radar and it is working perfectly. Back in the US we are being monitored at all times.”
“Surely people are not going to be watching us on a screen all day and night,” said Jacqui.
“No. It’s all automated. The radar sends messages by satellite to the base and then a computer reads the signals. It will sound an alert in the event of any strange event. The biggest problem arises if we hit something like a shoal of whales or sharks. The radar finds it hard to distinguish them if they swim too close together.”
Maria came up. She was dressed in a halter neck top and a pair of cut off jeans. She had the two watches she had mentioned in her hands. “I need you to wear these for a couple of hours so that we can gather all the data we need to put into the computer. If you can bear to wear them for twenty four hours the risks of us confusing you with others becomes almost nil.”
“Let’s do that,” I said. “They are hardly designer wear but we are not planning to go on shore for a few days. So we might as well eliminate that risk.”
“Good,” said Maria. “Now where do you want to head? We know a lovely bay at the North of the Island. It has several isolated coves where one can land. The swimming is great off sandy beaches. And then a bit further along, there is a small harbour where we can stop and stay in one of the guest houses overnight.”
“Sounds good,” I said. Jacqui agreed. “Why can’t we stay in one of the coves overnight. I’d prefer to be anchored off the coast rather than parked in a harbour.”
“No problem,” said Claire. “We’ll take one of the motor skis and get to shore. That leaves you two with the other should you need it.”
I only realised at that moment that there was a motor ski attached to each side of the boat. They could be automatically loaded into the water. This was a much more sophisticated craft than I had expected.
“Is this a real charter boat or has it been brought over specially?” I asked.
“The latter,” said Maria. “We could never get the equipment on a simple hire craft.”
I had thought as much and frowned slightly. This was yet another example of the ever-increasing influence of the family on my life. I didn’t want to spoil things for Jacqui though and said nothing.
“What about lunch?” said Maria. “The galley is just off the lounge and has limited facilities. If you want anything complicated, tell me in advance.”
“Let’s have a picnic,” said Jacqui. “Just a salad. Have we melons? That would be a nice starter. And some fruit punch. I think non alcoholic as we will be swimming.”
“Dead easy,” said Maria and headed to the lower deck with Claire. The boat turned back towards the shore and slowly made its way through the water to our lunchtime rendezvous.
We drew back the canopy on the upper deck and Jacqui took off her robe. “Put some lotion on me,” she said as she undid the straps of her bikini top. “I want to get brown all over my back as I have this wonderful low cut white dress I plan to wear one of these days.”
I gently rubbed the lotion into her back, caressing it into her shoulders. She busied herself with sun block on her face and neck. I knelt down and did the same to her legs, starting with her feet and gradually working up to her thighs. She giggled as I massaged her feet and purred slightly as I moved up her legs. She turned round and let me apply the soft white cream to her front, allowing me to linger over her breasts for just a moment at a time. She then turned her attention to me, rubbing the cream in over my back and chest, before sitting on the deck to do my legs with her head resting against my stomach.
I lifted her off the deck and started to kiss her, raising my hands up her sides.
“Oh no,” she said. “This is sun bathe time. Or we go back paler than we came.”
The deck had two loungers, each covered by a fluffy white towel. We lay on them, side by side, turning over as the sun heated our bodies. There is something about the gentleness of a Caribbean sun that makes it remove stress and slows down the body and mind. When you add to that the cooling air from a boat moving through the open water, you have a perfect fusion of sun and air.
We read and drank still cold water that Claire or Maria brought up from time to time. As we approached midday, we turned into a secluded cove. It was cut off from the land by a steep cliff and from the next beach by a rocky ledge. The sand was white and sloped gently into the calm waters of the bay.
“It’s like a desert island,” said Jacqui. “It’s just beautiful. It’ so peaceful.”
We went down to the lower deck and dived into the cool sea. Both Maria and Claire followed us into the water. We swam around the boat. The water was clear and we could see the white sand below. From time to time a shoal of small fish would scurry past us. In the distance was a coral reef.
Maria called over to us, “The cove is free from sharks. They hate to come into the shallows. We crossed the coral reef into the cove at its deepest point. That was about fifteen feet. It gave us enough clearance but should scare off any shark unless something drives it wild.”
“What could drive it wild?” asked Jacqui.
“Some kinds of noises could. Blood of course agitates them. But the chances are remote. Mind you I wouldn’t swim beyond the reef. That could be dangerous unless one is with an expert. We haven’t any snorkelling equipment on board. Do either of you want some?”
“I don’t,” I said. “I am not too keen on depths.”
“I can skip that too. I just want to relax,” said Jacqui.
She had not bothered to put on her top and the two girls had done likewise. It struck me as strange. So many things had changed in my life. A couple of
days ago I was feeling washed up in Geneva. A few days before that I had been in violent gun battles in the South of France. And now I was in quiet cove in Barbados swimming in the sea with three beautiful women. And it all felt normal.
I noticed Jacqui kept close to me and I was careful to do the same. Maria and Claire got out before us and we could see them on the deck calmly taking off their bikinis and stepping into dry shorts and tops.
“Why do they do that?” I asked Jacqui.
“I doubt they think much of it. I know the type. They work for my father and earn a lot of money. They’ll do anything. They know they have a short shelf life. Perhaps they have ten years if they are lucky. In that time they can become millionaires. Afterwards there is no use working on. They slow down then, both sexually and physically.”
“You make it sound as if they are totally amoral.”
“They are. But don’t criticise them. Once they retire, they’ll be millionaires. They may be that a couple of times over. They’ll only be late twenties. Who else can offer them such an opportunity? It may be corrupt. But it’s understandable.”
I was amused by this example of Jacqui’s casual acceptance of such life. But she was right. The girls knew their attributes and would use them for one end. That end was the achievement of wealth before they settled down to a life that would be comfortable in the extreme. They were all too disciplined to blow it.
We too got out of the water and dried off. We changed on the upper deck. The casual approach of the girls fed through to us. We were as casual with our own nudity as they were with theirs.
We all got on the bikes and headed to the beach. The girls got the food to shore and set up the picnic. Their bike was parked on the beach. Jacqui and I scooted around the bay on ours. Her bikini bottom was matched with a slinky top that was getting wetter and wetter. I had kept my T-shirt on against the now burning midday sun.
The girls called us in. We pulled the bike back onto the shore. Our faces and hair were wet with the spray from the ride. We were soaked from head to toe. Jacqui’s shirt was clinging to her. We stripped off and each put on dry shorts and shirts that Claire scooted over to the boat to pick up.
After lunch, we lazed around in the sand. We spent the afternoon swimming and sunbathing. The warm sand was pleasant underfoot. The sun cooled off and we relaxed in its pleasing rays.
As the early evening drew in, we headed back to the boat. We agreed that the girls should take the scooter the mile or so round the bay to the resort. They had radioed in and established that they could get accommodation. We would make ourselves things to eat later.
“There are plenty of eggs and I am a dab hand at omelettes,” said Jacqui.
We were alone. It was the first time in several weeks. And more importantly, we were relaxed. The balmy evening air welcomed us to the deck as we watched the sun set in the distance and night draw in.
“Let’s go for a dip,” said Jacqui stripping off her shirt and shorts. Naked, she headed to the steps and dived into the water. I followed suit and we both swam in the cool water of the evening. We kept close to the boat and to each other. After a few minutes, we came back to the steps. I held onto the side and Jacqui swam up into my arms.
It was strange feeling her under the salty water. I shut my eyes and felt her body brush over mine. I floated onto my back. She floated above me. I held her by the waist as we floated down again. Her body was warm and cool. It glistened as the water lapped backwards and forwards over it. She raised her legs and folded them behind my back. She pushed herself against me. Her wet, salty lips clung hungrily to mine. Her moist body glided against me. She took over control from me as if it were her right.
She tempted me as she floated around me. From time to time, her body would stroke against me. She raised her legs time and again and clasped them around my waist. Then fighting gently against the buoyancy of the water, she slid herself down me before letting go to run her hands across my naked body.
I stroked her on the back and then wherever she allowed. It was her choice as she angled different parts of her body onto my caress. Sometimes they lingered for more. At others they came for a moment’s temptation.
We had time. We were weightless in the water. We were able to come and go to each other without effort. It was tantalising and exciting in the loneliness of the cove. Alone but for perhaps the occasional inquisitive fish, we touched and floated against and on each other time and time again.
Still in command, Jacqui took my hand and pressed it against her. “Come on deck,” she said. She led me out of the water. Our bodies gleamed with the salty sea. We moved to the upper deck and she grabbed our towels. They were thick, white and fluffy. She laid them on the deck in a bed like formation and sank back onto them. She moistened her lips as if concerned that there could be one part of her that could appear less than perfect at that moment.
I groaned and knelt in front of her. Her arms were around my neck. Her body arched to me. I moved in a frantic desire that matched her own. We sank back into the soft folds of the towels. The sun oil had made her body slippery to the touch. She was still wet from the sea. Her body was warm against the cool evening air. Everything about her was soft, smooth, wet, warm, tender and trusting. I was inside her. Then I felt the cool air as we moved apart. She held me tightly. I crushed her in my arms. We tried to get ever closer as our bodies shared their sensations.
We moved together. We breathed together. Our bodies communed together. And we made love together as a gentle rain came down on us from clouds that had stealthily come to see us while we ignored the sky.
That was the mixture of our life for the next two weeks. Occasionally Claire and Marie would intrude. Usually they did not. We never saw Alberto but I knew he was out there somewhere. It was an idyllic time. It was so different from the time we had spent in California. We went round the islands and found our lonely coves.
We had the discrete company of the girls during the day. And at night we were left to our own devices. We ate every type of omelette under the sun. We stretched even Claire’s imagination on salads. We swam. We made love in the open, in the cabin and on the seashore. And then we were brought back to our real world. We were brought back to our real lives.
We had not called Geneva for the whole time, but on the last day we had to. Our holiday was over. It was time to head back to Europe. I could have stayed. She could have stayed. We both could have stayed. But we needed to finish the last part of our scam. We had the wealth and now we would have the power.
THE DEATH OF A BANK
I called Geneva from Bridgetown. The boat was in the harbour. The girls were waiting for their relief crew. I got through to my mother. It was a cold and wet December in Geneva. Then my mother dropped a bombshell.
They had booked a suite at the hotel where we had stayed on our arrival.
“There’s nothing to do here until the New Year. And the weather is awful all over Europe,” said my mother. “They say they have a couple of rooms at the hotel still but we did not know whether you would want them or would prefer the boat.”
“We can see you anyway,” I said. “But I think we’d prefer the boat. I don’t know if we can keep it. We’ll find out.”
Jacqui, who I had signalled to get onto an extension, had been listening in.
“Hi, it’s me,” she said. “If we can keep the boat, that would be great. Otherwise we’ll grab a room. I can’t say that a cold winter appeals. How can you come here?”
It was my father who now came to the phone. “Hello you two. You both sound like your old selves. I won’t ask if you had a good time. We’ve been working here while you lazed around on your ill-gotten gains. We have put around a hundred and twenty million into the fund. By the way, did you know that we earn almost half of a million a day gross on our cash? And as we are based in Monaco for tax purposes, we don’t pay a cent of tax as well.”
I had never thought of the money that way, but I had to admit it was quite comforting at a time w
hen most of my friends were dreaming of earning a portion of that each year.
My father continued, “I have told United that we are launching the fund on January 2nd. I have also told them that we have initial subscriptions of over one hundred and fifty million dollars. They think that we are setting up the shares to buy. In fact we have little to do at the moment. We will not pick up much stock over Christmas and we can’t launch the fund till after New Year.”
I had done some thinking while he was talking. “Why are we earning so little on the cash. The rates seem lousy.”
“I’m putting it on short term deposit. We may need access quickly. I believe we will have to take out United quickly. Thirty per cent would cost us around one point five billion at today’s prices. We may also have to buy up shares in the bidder to push their price up too. That is what I’m earmarking part of the other billion for.”
He then added, “I’ve shuffled around the money. I have moved it around through such a web that nobody is going to be able to trace it. Or put it this way, if they try they will have to have the law changed in at least four countries including Switzerland, the Cayman Islands, Austria and Jersey. Given that the law changes needed could destroy their banking industries, I can’t see that happening.”
He continued, “The money is in four banks now. They are all in the top ten in the world and I’ve got a schedule of them for you. The money is split two ways between joint accounts; one is for us. The other is for you and Jacqui. I put a billion into them each. The other one and a half billion is in company accounts with all four of us as equal shareholders. I want all winnings to be split four ways. That’s fair.”
“But that’s not fair on you,” said Jacqui. “I shouldn’t have an equal share.”
“You can always give it up,” said my father with a smile. “I think it fair.”
“Me too,” I said. “We couldn’t have got this far this quickly without you. Let’s keep it the way it is.”
“And now,” said my mother, “Let’s stop talking business. Find out what you are going to do and call us back. We leave in four hours. Oh, and arrange for us to be met at the airport tomorrow morning.”