Predators and Drones

by Richard Herron

  I have scheduled a 'Welcome' for tomorrow morning at 10:30 a.m. This start time provides for some sleeping in, as well as time to enjoy breakfast. I would recommend Lago Restaurant. You will find an assortment of foods and beverages to enjoy while you look out over the Caribbean Sea. Please be sure to instruct staff to direct any charges to your villa! Another view you will enjoy, and closer in, the 18th hole of Teeth of the Dog. I feel comfortable in guaranteeing that you will see much more of that course in the very near future.

  Again, I am so glad you have joined us and look forward to seeing you in the morning.

  Sincerely, Gerald T. Moore"

  ◆◆◆

  “Wow” was all Gloria could say. John sipped at his bourbon, gazing out at the pool, eyes swimming through turquoise, and drifting between green tree ferns and palms of the garden beyond.

  32. LIGHT & SOUND

  Dawn's bright sunbeams peeked through gauze window shades. That radiant crescendo held the key to unlock doors of sleep and twittering birds turned the lock's tumblers. Aware of the room’s brightening, John enjoyed listening, eyes closed, to the soft sounds outside their bedroom. After what felt like twenty minutes of luxury, he rolled out of bed. He padded naked into the bathroom to drain his bladder, then stepped into the marbled enclosure. The shower's deluge was a soothing downpour to wash away vestiges of sleep.

  He emerged from the bathroom with a damp, palm frond-printed bath towel around his waist, right hand securing its placement. He saw Gloria looking his way.

  "Morning, Dear. I'm going to unpack my clothes, then I'll go make us some coffee."

  "Maybe you should put something on before traipsing about..." she replied, teasing a little smile from him.

  "When in Rome…" he left the rest hanging. After transferring clothes from suitcase to dresser and putting some on, he went out to the kitchen. A freshly brewed pot of coffee sat steaming on the counter. Next to it, two cups, a small pitcher of cream and a sugar bowl. He hadn’t heard a sound but realized that the bedroom where they'd slept was at the far end of this large home. He shrugged, chalked it up to luxury living, poured a cup and went out through sliding glass doors to sit by the pool and await Gloria.

  After start-the-engines coffee, they went out a side door near the kitchen. As their villa’s book described, a pair of golf carts waited for their personal use and transportation. John saw his golf bag perched in the back of one. They climbed into it and headed out to have breakfast at Lago.

  ◆◆◆

  From a cart parked a hundred yards away, under the shade of a giant banyan, Naomi made a call on her cell.

  "Good morning, Mr. Hamilton."

  "Good morning, Naomi. How'd it go this morning?"

  "Just fine, Sir. I made a fresh pot of coffee and was very quiet. When I left, I tucked the flag into his golf bag as you instructed."

  "Excellent. You’ll be available?" The sentence sounded like a question, but wasn't.

  “Of course, Mr. Hamilton. Anytime at all.”

  33. BREAKFAST SUBLIME

  Linen-covered tables were placed without crowding. All afforded views overlooking the turquoise-blues of the Caribbean and the green of Teeth of the Dog’s eighteenth hole. Soft voices and the tinkling of utensils played subtle background music to an array of buffet-style items and menu options.

  A waiter brought a pot of coffee to the table and poured them each a cup. "May I bring either of you something from the menu?"

  "I'd like the Eggs Benedict de Mar," Gloria replied, turned to face her husband. "Did you see the description of that?"

  The waiter stood by as John found it on the menu, read it. 'Scallop and crab sautéed in butter and garlic, served over poached eggs on a butterflied croissant, drizzled with fluffy hollandaise'. He looked at her, eyebrows raised, nodding.

  "I think I'll have something off the buffet, thanks."

  "Very good, Sir. I'll place the order for your breakfast, Ma'am." He glided away and they both sipped at the coffee. It was dark-roasted, rich, with a chocolatey aroma and finish.

  John set down his cup. "I guess I'll go get something."

  "Yes. Please don't wait, John." She smiled at him and he nodded, rising from the table.

  He approached the buffet area, picked up a plate and proceeded to the carving station, accepted a thick slice of ham. From there, he served himself scrambled eggs, fried potatoes and wheat toast. When he returned to the table, Gloria's eyes rolled upon seeing his food.

  "John, there are so many scrumptious things to eat here. Your food looks so…" she stopped mid-sentence. John's scowl expressed his clear non-interest in her commentary. She returned her mouth to the cup, took a swallow, hoping to move past, not wanting the morning's air to change.

  ◆◆◆

  John dug into the food. They exchanged small talk about the setting and views as he ate, she sipped coffee. He was more than halfway finished with his breakfast when Gloria's food arrived. The croissant and hollandaise appeared to be competing for 'most fluffy'. Their waiter came by with a wheeled cart. It carried fresh-squeezed juices and biscotti offerings, paired with preserves of papaya, pineapple, and tangerine.

  With his hunger abated, John stretched his legs out under the table. He scooted back to lean deeper into the caress provided by his cushioned, rattan chair. He sipped at his coffee while he watched Gloria eating her breakfast. His gastric juices ruminated while his brain did its own work, on the complexion of their marriage, spanning nearly three decades. John still felt love and affinity for his wife. He had to acquiesce to the undeniable changes in their sex life. It represented missing pieces in the marriage. He allowed his mind to drift, think of others who might have come along on this trip.

  ◆◆◆

  Gloria stole glances at John as she ate. It seemed that the tense moment had passed and she scolded herself for saying anything. They didn't need any friction and she was still hopeful that there might be some sort of romantic bubble up opportunity coming from him. If she could play it right, a kiss or hug might even lead to more.

  Gloria worked her fork deliberately around the plate, having pierced the last, lonely morsel of scallop. She sashayed it through a lingering rivulet of hollandaise. When it was adequately sauced, she raised it to her open mouth, brought the yellow-white glob past the oval of coral-tinted lipstick. She let it rest briefly on her expecting glottis. Her eyes were closed, her mind further away than this place. Then she tumbled it back and forth between her teeth and tongue, savoring it like it might be her last. When all that remained was to swallow, she opened her eyes and they found John's, watching her. She brought her linen napkin up, dabbing politely at her mouth, and covering her embarrassment. When she lowered it, having recovered, she put on a playful smile.

  "John, I'll be spending the remainder of my time sitting right here."

  ◆◆◆

  His neutral countenance dissipated, replaced by an assembled and displayed smile that he hoped was convincing.

  34. G.T.M. WELCOMES YOU

  After eating, they returned to their golf cart, then drove to El Flamboyan Conference Center. They arrived fifteen minutes before the scheduled start at 10:30a.m. When they entered the facility, they found a table set up, where a woman greeted them.

  “Good morning, Senator Turner. Good morning, Mrs. Turner.” A woman they didn't know was smiling up at them from her chair at the table. She handed them each a small box and directed another woman to escort them to a room down the corridor.

  Inside, the set-up was a double row, semi-circular set of tables and chairs, arranged to face a podium. Their escort brought them to chairs near the center of this arrangement where name cards held their places. As they approached their seats, John saw that Robbie's place was between his and Gloria's. John saw him chatting with others in the room as he glanced around.

  He spotted Andrew Thompson nearby, one of his senatorial colleagues. John turned to Gloria.

  "Honey, come with me for a sec. I want to introduce you to so
meone." They stepped over a few paces, waited for the man to finish his conversation. When Thompson finished, turned toward them, John extended his hand.

  "Hi Andrew. Good to see you again." As they shook hands, John added, "I want you to meet my wife. This is Gloria."

  He turned to face her, "Hello Mrs. Turner. It's so nice to meet you. I have great admiration and respect for your husband. We haven't worked on legislation together yet, but it's only a matter of time."

  "Senator Thompson, it's wonderful to meet you. Please call me Gloria." He responded in kind, asking that she call him Andrew. After a few more pleasantries, John and Gloria returned to their table, ready to take their seats. By then, Robbie had returned to the table as well.

  John knew Robbie better than any of the others. While they were thirty years apart in age, he struck John as what he imagined his brother would be like, had he been alive. Robbie’s business card labeled him as Executive Vice President of GTM, and his actions labeled him as dedicated GTM lobbyist.

  “Hi Robbie. Great to see you again,” John said as he got to his chair. He was pulling Gloria's chair out for her to sit, continued, "You remember Gloria, don’t you?”

  Robbie turned his smiling face and replied, “Of course. It's a pleasure to see you again, Gloria. How're the accommodations?”

  "Thank you, Robbie. It's good to see you too, and the villa is glorious!"

  “Well John," his head turned to look at her, "Gloria, we're so glad you joined us. This is going to be a great week for you.”

  “Thanks Robbie," John replied, "We're looking forward to some R and R."

  "Good to hear," Robbie paused, looking toward the podium at the front of the room, then added, "I guess we better take our seats. Gerrie should be out any moment."

  They all sat and shifted focus toward the front. There were about two dozen present in the room and as they settled into comfortable chairs, John snuck peeks to either side. He recognized several other faces in the group, including an automotive executive from GM and a lobbyist from Raytheon. G.T.M. representatives were sprinkled here and there and he knew most of them. Between campaigns and lobbying efforts, those people got around.

  Ninety seconds later, all had seated and the room settled to a stillness. A door opened from behind the podium and Gerald Moore stepped out of the shadows.

  35. GERALD T. MOORE

  Moore seemed to float in his approach to the podium, perhaps an illusion of the suffused spotlight. He waited a few moments while a couple of people commented to each other.

  “Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to the Dominican Republic and to one of my favorite places, Casa de Campo. GTM is happy to have you join us, and while some of you are unable to stay for the entire week, we'll celebrate your time here for as long as it lasts."

  "Our hope..., our plan is that while you're here, you'll enjoy Casa de Campo hospitality and get in some of the best golf the world has to offer.” An enthusiastic eruption of applause broke out for a moment, then subsided.

  “We want fun, great food and fantastic golf to be the primary goals to achieve while here." Moore continued, "We'd also like to conduct little bits of business sprinkled in while you're here. I'll make this personal commitment to all of you. Business is always in my brain—I'll not pretend otherwise, but I promise you this. I won't submit any of you to long, boring conferences or seminars that have you looking around the room for exit doors.”

  A soft chuckle floated through the room, for all had been there at one time or another.

  “We want, or rather, I want, more than anything, for you to return home with some of the best memories, best tans, and best golfing experiences possible. In support of this desire, please open the folders in front of you."

  “On the first page," he continued, "you'll find profiles of the world-class golf courses available here. These profiles provide some history about their development and design, in case you're interested. More important and relative information begins on the next page. There, you'll find the schedules when we have exclusive use of the courses. You'll also find details of the tournaments we have set up for you and your guests. I would ask you to focus your attention here briefly."

  "Whether you play golf or not, there is an important form for you to complete. If you plan on participating in any tournaments, you'll need to submit the form which will get you onto the roster. There are some options about tee times, as well as requests for shirt sizes. We'll also have raffles throughout the week, so whether you'll be playing golf or not, please complete the forms here this morning. I’ll have staff collect them in a few minutes.”

  “Now, if you haven’t opened it already, you should've received a small box when you arrived this morning. If you'll open it now, you'll find a small souvenir of your time with us.” Moore waited while the group unwrapped and then opened the boxes. They each found a beautiful Waterford pen. The barrel of the pen was made of ebony and the upper portion was personalized with the guest's first names in gold inlay.

  “Here we are," Moore continued, "well into the twenty-first century and perhaps pen and ink have taken a large step backward. I hope that when you have reason to use this pen, you'll think of us at G.T.M.”

  He heard several voices call out, “Thank you” and the group gave a round of applause.

  “For that pen's first official use, please fill out those forms!” They all laughed and did as they were told, and as they started, Moore pointed to a side table. “Coffee service is now available, so please feel free to get some of the best coffee in the world.”

  During the next twenty minutes, G.T.M.'s guests and executives milled about, greeting each other, mingling. Moore circulated, chatting and giving personal welcomes to the attendees. He then returned to the podium.

  “If you'll excuse me," Moore regained his audience, "I'd like to bring you all back to attention for another minute before releasing you to explore the resort. The pages in your folders describe exciting excursions that you'll have the opportunity to take. Most are daytime activities, but we have plenty of night-time activities as well. You'll find scheduled dinner and music evenings, private shuttles to the casino in La Romana, a special masquerade ball and more. Don’t forget that the first day for golf is scheduled for tomorrow, so be certain to sign up if you want to play. For now, get out and explore, think about what you would like to do for the next week, and think about your friends at GTM.”

  36. AN EIGHTEEN HOLE WARM-UP

  The group at the tables stood, moving out to the sides where a staff member collected their forms. Moore worked his way among the attendees, resuming his personal welcome. He made his way over to where Robbie, John and Gloria were chatting as others began filtering out of the conference room—by then, they were alone.

  Moore introduced himself to Gloria as he approached with his hand outstretched, having never met face-to-face.

  “Mrs. Turner, Gerald Moore. It's wonderful to meet you in person.”

  “Oh, Mr. Moore," her voice flowery as she took his hand, "please, call me Gloria. It's already a dream being here and I can’t thank you enough.”

  His smile was beaming as he replied, “If you'll call me 'Gerrie', you'll have already thanked me more than enough.”

  “Okay, Gerrie. It’s a deal.” She ended the hand shake with a last pump.

  They began sauntering toward the exit and Robbie asked Gloria what she was doing that afternoon.

  "A little sunning by the pool."

  Robbie turned to John, “Are you working on your tan, too?"

  "I have made exactly zero plans so far." John smiled.

  "Great! Are you up for getting in eighteen holes this afternoon? I've convinced Gerrie that he could use some work on his putting, and I believe we have a fourth lined up.”

  John turned to look at Gloria, who immediately piped in, “Go. I don’t want you blocking my sun.” They chuckled in unison.

  Robbie continued, “Okay, great. Gerrie and I have a lunch meeting and we will meet you
at the clubhouse at a little after one, if that works for you.” John agreed and the two pairs went their separate ways.

  Outside, John and Gloria hopped onto the golf cart as they began chatting about some of the upcoming events. Gloria gushed about how nice Gerrie and Robbie were, and how fantastic the resort seemed to be. Still feeling full from their breakfast, they decided to return to the villa to change clothes. Once there, Gloria went into the bedroom to change into poolside attire, then grabbed her sunglasses, lotion and her book.

  John opted to wear the same slacks but picked out one of his Hawaiian shirts, green palm trees on a light blue background. He went out to settle into a deck chair, over-looking the pool. A Golf Digest magazine ready, in hand.

  Gloria emerged from the bedroom a bit later, decked out for the tanning circuit and with a cheery “Have a great afternoon. See ya later," she took off in a golf cart to head over to the resort’s main pool. John stayed for another twenty minutes, enjoying the view, scanning articles. He also enjoyed the thoughts swimming in his head about how good it was to be Senator Turner, and the CEO of JCT.

  37. A ROUND OF GOLF, A STIFF DRINK

  At 1:15, John had his cart parked along the side of the clubhouse and was checking out the Club Shop items for sale. Gerrie, Robbie and a third man came in, walked up behind John as he perused polo shirts on a rack.

  Robbie greeted, “Hi John. This is a very good friend of mine who was hoping to join us this afternoon.” As he turned, John saw that it was his senate colleague.

  "Here you are again, Andrew." John said as he chuckled, "Good to see you, and better here than in D.C.” He turned to Robbie, with the aside, “We know each other even though we haven’t worked on legislation together.” Robbie nodded.