Well, this report finds me in a fine mood. Not only has nobody on the team has vomited in over 24 hours, but I have successfully departed from Scotland (and while I have not yet returned to my neat and orderly apartment, it is only a matter of time).
Anyway, back to the beginning. It’s time to put our plan into action. Paris, (Up)Chuck and (Nun)Chuck will accompany the shipment on the Barbour Shipping Company freighter, while Jake Jake, Rossi, Ben Black and I head for the States to set things up. You see our plan is to create a diversion somewhere in the warehouses as Paris is about to make the exchange, thus allowing her to escape (by hiding in a crate of our creation) in the confusion. Hmm, this plan involves diversions and confusion - sounds like it’s right up our alley. Success is assured!!
The other part of the plan is to make it appear as though one of Flaky Flinn’s minions has double crossed Paris, so it doesn’t spoil her reputation as a smuggler when the shipment gets confiscated. So Paris calls Electa and plants seeds of doubt about the wisdom of allowing her (Paris, not Electa) to travel alone with Flaky Flinn’s really expensive cargo.
Paris and (Up)Chuck go to the freighter, each armed with the tools they feel are necessary to their survival - Paris with her tartan toothbrush, Bonnie Prince Charlie hair dryer and some salad-in-a-bag, and (Up)Chuck with an extra large bottle of extra strength Dramamine. (Nun)Chuck has obtained work as a deck hand, so he is already on board. Paris and her bodyguard, (Up)Chuck, see Michael, my (not so) favorite DEA agent and (not much of a) friend from the Caribbean cruise on an upper deck. As they are checking into their stateroom, Electa and Kirk arrive.
Kirk sets up a laptop and transfers the first half of the payment to Paris’s account. Then he asks Paris to wear a wristwatch. (Up)Chuck checks the watch, but doesn’t see anything unusual about it. Kirk then welds the band so Paris cannot remove it. Electa announces that Kirk will be accompanying them to the U.S. and departs as Kirk goes to his room. After (Up)Chuck re-opens his old Parisian ‘get-these-handcuffs-off-of-me’ wounds by trying to turn his own watch over in order to look at the back, Paris refuses to let him try and look at the device (which is likely a Global Positioning System) on her still-intact wrist.
Meanwhile, back at the keep, Rossi, Jake Jake, Black and I make preparations for our departure. While I am not sorry to be leaving a country whose hospitality left me wishing to be knee-deep in a Jack plan to storm some stupid national monument, I am glad to be taking a wealth of new cooking knowledge with me. Cahill, out of the goodness of his heart, has arranged a flight for us that will avoid the usual customs scrutiny of commercial airline passengers. He tells us that we will be flying with live cattle. Rossi asks for hip waders and Jake Jake tells me he hates me. I don’t know what they are complaining about! Is flying across the Atlantic with a bunch of mad cows destined for slaughter any worse than our team being stuck in a medieval keep in the land of sheep’s milk and honey with nothing to eat but Sheila’s Scottish Surprise? Or maybe it’s the same thing …
So we go to the airport, each armed with the instruments we feel are necessary to our survival: Ben Black with a copy of Entertainment Weekly, Jake Jake with several barf bags, Rossi with hip waders and me with a meat cleaver and some spices (just in case we get hungry …). Boy are we pleasantly surprised to see that Cahill was full of cow chips and the plane is luxuriously decorated with a stocked bar. I settle down to start work on my first book, The Culinary Wonders of Haggis and Canned Kippers.
Back on the freighter, (Up)Chuck’s stomach is holding up very well, despite an Atlantic storm. He gets (Nun)Chuck to go to Fed Michael and describe Kirk. Michael’s task is to have several bump encounters with Kirk, thus giving (Nun)Chuck some opportunities to get photo evidence of Kirk’s collusion with the Feds, and provide proof of Paris’s upcoming allegation of double-cross (hopefully they started with a new roll of film, not the one that has pictures of the retching Rolls ride).
Rossi, Jake Jake, Black and I have a blessedly uneventful trip to the States. After we arrive, we are hungry and, eager to avoid MacAnything, we go to a Burger King.
We then get a hotel room and plan our diversion. We use a warehouse-type facility of Diamond’s on Long Island to begin work on the crate. We work for six hours and rest on the seventh. We look at our creation and see that it is good. However, visions of ill-fated missions soon begin to flash through our minds. We decide to add a manifest to the box, keeping a copy so we can claim it is ours. Still we stared. Something was missing. Ah yes, make sure the destination indicates Bayonne (this should keep Paris from being shipped to some third world nation where there are no salad bars or eligible bachelors). Yet, still we stared. Oh yeah, add a Fragile label (this should prevent some oafish dock worker from banging the crated Paris around). And still we stared. Aha! Stencil ‘This End Up’ across the top (because, unless I am mistaken, Paris prefers a Caesar Salad to a tossed salad any day). Last, but certainly not least, we put bolt cutters inside the crate, so Paris can remove the pseudo-watch from her probably-turned-green-by-now wrist.
With preparation like this, we can’t go wrong! All that awaits is the arrival of Le Greek Smuggling Ship in Bayonne. I can hardly wait!
Part 19Well, this report finds me sitting in the lap of luxury at the Stanhope Hotel. I am surrounded by Jack the permanently pointing, paranoid International Cabaret Terrorist; Paris, the agent, not the city (and she has finally stopped murmuring ‘help’); (Nun)Chuck, who only has to find and kill a small Oriental guy who looks like him in order to be truly safe; and Checkers, Jack’s cat, best friend, nearest living relation and beneficiary of his estate.
How did we get here? What happened to the rest of the team? What happened to Flinn’s cargo? Did our plan go off without a hitch?
These are good questions. Let’s backtrack a little.
Back in Scotland, Britain’s snootiest, Mitchell and Fiona, have actually managed to present the twins with a valid ‘Get Out of Jail (and England) Free’ card. Now they here in the States to assist us in the execution of our infallible plan.
Out on the Atlantic, the tiny ship is being tossed. (Up)Chuck, valiantly trying to prove that he is completely recovered from his gastro-intestinal malaise, seems okay, although he is dangerously close to exceeding the daily recommended dose of Dramamine.
As the relaxing Atlantic cruise nears its end, (Nun)Chuck awaits the opportunity to turn Kirk, the bodyguard, not the starship captain, into sushi, in order to support Paris’s soon-to-be-told tale of intrigue, smuggling and double-cross on the high seas. (Hmmm, sounds like there’s a book there, doesn’t it?) Since he is fairly convinced that he has gotten enough good pictures of Kirk, the bodyguard, not the starship captain, colluding with Fed Michael to back up the story, he lays in wait for the chance to waylay the unsuspecting, double-crossing Scottish bodyguard when he comes to check the cargo. Sometime around midnight he realizes that there is a chance that Kirk, the bodyguard, not the starship captain, may not make an appearance.
(Nun)Chuck goes to a phone and calls Kirk’s room to say that there is a problem with the cargo and Kirk, the bodyguard, not the starship captain, should come down to the hold. Unfortunately, (Nun)Chuck doesn’t know the password, so Kirk goes back to bed.
The ship’s passageways echo with the sound of Vietnamese cursing.
Finally, (Nun)Chuck gets a pass key and opens the door to Kirk’s room. However, dice rolls have dictated that he is not as stealthy as he said he would be and he hears Kirk approaching the door. (Nun)Chuck quickly checks that he is not wearing a red shirt and hides next to the door, which he has let swing open. Kirk uses his gun to tap the door closed, but (Nun)Chuck jumps in at the last second, slits Kirk’s throat and allows the door to bang shut just as Kirk’s gun lands on the floor. (Nun)Chuck locks the door, then, realizing that he must first exit the room, he opens it, leaves and locks it behind him.
He goes to tell a partially sleeping Paris and (Up)Chuck that the deed is done. Paris feels a pang of guilt and then falls back to dreaming of champagne and caviar - all served on a surface that doesn’t rock back and forth. (Up)Chuck, whose battle against le mal de mer has left him open to another attack of narcolepsy, goes back to nightmare worlds of fires with no water, floods with no dams, and Sheila’s Scottish Surprise with no anti-acids anywhere to be found.
Back in the States, I receive the disturbing information that Deputy Dicky Dawg has discovered that Marc Conrad was not responsible for the deaths of Anderson and McClear and he is now looking for a small Oriental guy that boarded a boat in Scotland (talk about looking for a needle in a haystack, I mean - you know how many people could fit that description?). I try to call Paris on the sat phone, but it is not working. A thoroughly frustrating call to the phone company has given me the facts: none of their employees speak English, they have only a few people who fill many positions, and I don’t think these boneheads even have access to a satellite. I have decided that I hate all phones and the companies that run, market and sell them. Jack’s plan to bomb Paris, the city not the agent, pales in the face of my developing plan for global telephonic warfare.
Early the next morning, we head for the Bayonne pier. Jake Jake and I are watching form his car, Ben Black and Rossi are waiting for the right moment to set off the repeaters, thus causing a ‘shots fired’ reaction, and the twins are watching from a good vantage point to spot Deputy Deranged Dawg.
As we are watching and waiting, the feds begin to run around in circles, then get into their cars and take off. The twins and Black and Rossi follow, but I have to first convince Jake Jake that something is going on. I tell him to get in the car, drive that way very fast, and if something gets in his way, turn. Simple instructions, right?
Back on the ship, (Nun)Chuck awakens to begin his daily work and is awestruck at the sights on the shore. He thinks that Americans have a lot of nerve saying that all Orientals look alike, when it’s really hard to tell New York and New Jersey apart. He asks someone what’s going on. They tell him that the ship is pulling into Brooklyn. What an odd pronunciation for Bayonne, thought (Nun)Chuck.
(Nun)Chuck goes down and tells a narcoleptic sleepy (Up)Chuck that they are docking in Bayonne, Brooklyn. Sleepily, (Up)Chuck waves okay at him and lays back down.
Eventually, Paris gets up and goes to take a shower. (Up)Chuck suddenly sits straight up in bed.
The passageways of the ship echo with cries of ‘Bayonne, Brooklyn!?!?!?’
(Up)Chuck barges in to tell Paris that there is something wrong, because they are pulling into Brooklyn. Paris dresses and makes a call to Electa and yells, ‘why are you fucking me?’
The passageways of the ship echo with the sound of male jaws dropping.
(Up)Chuck, deciding that both his and Paris’s lives were in danger does the only sane thing possible. He hijacks the boat. I would like to take a moment here to reflect upon the recent criticism I have received from said intestinally-challenged protector of the masses. .. .. Okay, moment passed.
(Up)Chuck storms onto the bridge and finds Tony Something Italian, the harbor pilot steering the boat in. (Up)Chuck pulls a gun, points it at Tony Something Italian’s head and yells ‘turn the boat around.’ Tony Something Italian has a fatal heart attack and falls to the floor. (Up)Chuck points the gun at the next officer he sees and instructs him to take the ship to Bayonne. The crew, who are having a hard time figuring out why anyone would actually hijack a ship to get to New Jersey, fail to comply. The officer throws the engine in reverse, spins the wheel and sits down. A stunned (Up)Chuck stares as the wheel spins and the ship begins to list.
Down in her cabin, a confused Paris takes lots of bruising damage as she is thrown to the ground by the leaning ship. Paris calls me on my still-malfunctioning-targeted-for-destruction cell phone and manages, through her cries of ouch as she is tossed about and my cries of turn, turn as Jake Jake does his best imitation of the now-defunct Disney attraction Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, to tell me that she doesn’t know what’s going on, but the ship seems to be somewhat out of control in New York Harbor. I tell her that we are on our way.
(Up)Chuck has locked the doors to the bridge and gotten on the P.A. to tell the engine room that they should cooperate or he will kill his hostages. To emphasize the seriousness of his intent, he lets off a shot that ricochets around the bridge before ending up in the arm of an unfortunate sailor. Paris is stunned as she hears his announcement. He then calls her on the phone to tell her that he is taking the boat to Bayonne.
Paris calls me back to tell me that (Up)Chuck-Gone-Amok has hijacked the ship and claims to be going to Bayonne, although all she sees is the Staten Island Ferry station coming up really fast. The peace of the harbor is broken by the noise of boats sounding their collision alarms, as well as coast guard and news helicopters.
The passageways of the ship echo with Paris’s cries of ‘help, help.’
Paris finds (Nun)Chuck who helps her cut the GPS watch off of her wrist. She throws it into the water.
I leave a message for Cahill and then tell Jake Jake we have to turn around because the ship is heading for Bayonne again. Of all the times for him to start listening to me when I tell him to turn … He could have waited until we were out of the tunnel! Luckily, I take only minimal bruising damage, which is more than I can say for his car.
While Rossi and Black are having an uneventful mad rush to New York, the twins are not so lucky. Maureen, confused by so many drivers who are on the wrong side of the road, crashes the car, seriously injuring the ‘drive on the right side’ yelling Sean.
Cahill calls back and tells me that Jack says, ‘hey.’ I tell him that (Up)Chuck has gone nuts and hijacked the boat.
Back on the bridge of the ship, some thoroughly confused customs agents knock on the windows of the locked bridge. A maniacal (Up)Chuck waves his gun at them, causing them to run away.
The ship’s passageways echo with cries of ‘he’s got a gun.’
Jake Jake and I have made our way to the shore for a front row view of the mayhem.
(Up)Chuck, deciding that he’s had enough of his crash course in boating, leaves the bridge and dives off the ship as Jake Jake and I hold up scorecards (I only gave him an 8.3, because there was quite a bit of splash).
Although he swims well and manages to get out of the water, he doesn’t manage to elude the masses of security forces that are looking for the soaking wet insane boat hijacker and he is captured.
In a Brooklyn hospital, Sean and Maureen are elated at the arrival of a meal plate for Sean consisting entirely of green jello.
Rossi and Black call me and ask if they are done. I tell them sure and they head for the Hamptons.
Jake Jake, annoyed at the prospect of all the paperwork that awaits him, due to the somewhat less-than-perfect state of his Government issue vehicle, tells me I have to take the subway uptown. Like that’s a punishment! After seeing the way he drives? I tell him it’s safer and make my way to the Stanhope Hotel to see my old friend Jack. After many hours of questioning, Paris is let off the boat and given a ride to the hotel by two infatuated agents. As we watch the news, I suddenly realize that I have not yet gotten a message to (Nun)Chuck. I call him and tell him that Deputy Despicable Dawg is looking for a little Oriental guy who got on a boat in Scotland.
(Nun)Chuck surreptitiously leaves the boat that night and makes his way to the hotel.
(Up)Chuck refuses to talk to anyone until he sees our old friends Fed Michael and Snotty Ass Dellinger. He tells him that he was actually saving both his life and Paris’s, and stopping the drug shipment from reaching the hands of the Something Italian Family. He also states that he didn’t kill Tony Something Italian and he has no idea what happened to Kirk, the bodyguard, not the starship captain. Since the murder technically occurred on Greek soil and (Up)Chuck is a Confidential Informer, he is released the next morning.
That brings us to the present. I am surrounded by my friends Jack, Checkers, (Nun)Chuck and Paris; the twins are free to return to Boston; Black is corrupting Rossi in the Hamptons; and (Up)Chuck, having been released, is free to visit a drug store filled with non-drowsy stomach remedies.
Sure, there are still some small things hanging over our heads: Deputy Droopy Dawg is still looking for the Oriental guy who killed the arms dealers and Flaky Flinn may be a tad upset with us, but for now we are content to bask in the comfort of the Stanhope, where the emaciated Checkers is being overfed by Jack, whose recent experience with broken digits allows him to now feel for the I-don’t-have-opposable-thumbs feline, (Nun)Chuck is practicing not looking like a small Oriental guy who just got off a boat from Scotland, and Paris and I are collaborating on a new book, How Not to Smuggle Designer Drugs into the United States.
Just to bring things full circle, the next morning we go to the zoo.
Mission Awards
Paris:
Sheila:
Rossi:
Jack:
(Nun)Chuck:
Fiona:
Mitchell:
The Irish Twins:
(Up)Chuck:
Jake Jake:
GM: