unworthy of Travis.” He turned to the rest of the group. “Listen up. This puts us behind schedule, so keep the line moving…”
The dockmaster’s staff thought they’d signed up for marina administration. But the new placement of the plaque had drawn a stream of hard-core MacDonald buffs and their spectrum of behavior-so barely a blip registered on their radar as the column of young visitors marched past the stand and ritualistically touched the plaque. They finished and walked out the door. Except one.
“Andy, why aren’t you touching the plaque? What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? How can you goof around at a time like this?”
“I’m not goofing around. It’s all part of the Master Plan…” -he lowered his voice-“… Remember what we talked about in the car?”
“What does touching plaques have to do with any of that?”
“The plan… has tangents.”
“There is no plan! You’re going to get me killed!”
“Touch the plaque. For me?”
Andy sighed and halfheartedly brushed it with the back of his hand.
“Now, how hard was that?”
“I am so dead.” He walked out the door.
Serge turned back to the office staff. “Appreciate the hospitality. But the plaque really should be back on the dock.”
“What?”
“I know it wasn’t your doing.” Serge winked. “We’ll talk later.”
Chapter Forty-Two
MIAMI
Another phone call.
“Hello?” said Juanita.
“Credit card’s been used again.”
“Where?”
“If I may say something, they’ve got agents all over this. Good ones. We could take a big fall, and for what?”
“The address.”
“You hear what I said?”
Juanita went from ice to thermonuclear in a blink. “You never speak disrespectfully to me! I took you in! I stood by you!”
“Didn’t mean it that way.”
“Anyone else would have been killed for letting Randall Sheets slip away!”
“I made it up to you. Even with everyone looking at us, I still went back for those informant files. Jesus, they were your brothers!”
“You’re the one who gave me their names.”
“And I’ve regretted it every day since.”
“Are we not paying you enough?”
“That isn’t what I mean. This is a business, and this makes no business sense.”
“Because of who you are to me, I will make an exception and ask you one more time, but only one more time. What is the address where the credit card was used?”
A pause. “Have something to write with?”
“That’s a good boy.”
FORT LAUDERDALE
The Challenger-led convoy sped south on A1A and turned right onto Harbor Drive.
A well-kept old Florida motel. Two floors, fresh yellow paint, blue trim. Configured at acute, retro angles protecting a courtyard with lush tropical plants and picnic tables.
Serge hopped out. “This is our place! The fabulous Bahia Cabana!”
Serge checked in at the office across the street. They gathered again in the middle of the courtyard. “Here are your room keys…”
Serge stopped and stared up the street at a much more expensive resort.
“What is it?” asked Coleman. “The
“
“Not cool,” said Serge. “They exploit children.”
“So why are you smiling?”
“Because I have an idea.” He turned back to the students. “Okay, I’ll need some help with the pickup truck.”
“What kind of help?”
“Our next spring break history stop-this one’s the best! Clear everything out of the back bed.”
“You got it.”
Students emptied trash and tools. Serge retrieved a duffel bag from the Challenger’s trunk and flipped down the pickup’s tailgate. He unzipped the bag and pulled out what looked like a giant plastic tarp covered with cartoon fish and octopuses.
“What’s that?”
“The commemorative revival of where it all started.” Serge laid it in the pickup’s bed, uncapped a clear tube and began blowing.
Nothing happened for the first minute. Students watched curiously. Then the plastic began taking shape, slowly unfolding itself with each breath, until it flopped open in a circle.
Serge continued blowing furiously. The circle began to rise. Serge began to slide down the side of the pickup.
“Serge, you’re hyperventilating! Take a break!”
Serge shook his head and clenched the tube in his side teeth. “Only way to inflate anything is all at once as fast as you can.” Blowing accelerated.
“Serge! Stop!”
“You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“Serge fainted!”
Coleman ran over as air wheezed out the inflation tube.
Serge sat up with giddiness. “I see sparkly things.”
“Inflating stuff gets you high?” said Coleman. “I’m there!”
He took over where Serge had left off. Puffy cheeks turned scarlet. He fell on the ground next to Serge. “Sparkly things. Excellent.”
Students peered over the side of the truck. “A kiddie pool?”
Andy hid in one of the motel’s alcoves, dialing a cell phone. He put it to his head.
“Andy, what’s happening?” asked Agent Ramirez.
“I think Serge is inflating a kiddie pool.”
“Serge?”
“The lunatic I told you about.”
“I know all about Serge,” said Ramirez. “You have to get away from him immediately. He’s extremely dangerous.”
