Chapter 8: White Man´s Cut
It took a moment for Gideon to recognize the incessant noise as his cellphone alarm going off. He groggily fumbled for it and turned off the annoying sound of Tom Jones`s "It´s not unusual¨, and for the hundredth time vowed to change his ringtone.
The next point of order was orientation - where the hell was he? Tiny room, and sure as hell he did not have such a big night the previous evening... but he was sure the ground was determinedly unsteady. Swaying, in fact. He was naked in bed, but his favourite swimming trunks and black polo shirt was draped across a chair next to the bed, so he pulled them on and stepped out of the tiny windowless room. He was in a narrow hallway with numbered doors, and somehow it seemed familiar. A hotel?
As he walked towards the end of the passage, it opened up to an atrium, and then he could see it: Huge expanses of crystal blue water to his right visible through the huge windows, and moving along at a speedy pace. He was on a cruise ship!
Having established this strange turn of events, he was still very unclear on how he got here. There was the mad chase through the streets of DC with Jamie, they gave the pursuers the slip, and then they had dinner at her place. He was tremendously tired, and irritatingly so, as he would have liked to take things further, but ended up crashing on her couch... And now he was here!
He instinctively reached in his shirt pocket for a smoke, before realizing - also for about the hundredth time- that he had quit more than a year before. However, there was something in his pocket... a card.
The card showed a pretty picture of a palm tree and a pair of scissors, and was titled: "Ricky´s Barbershop, 55 North Shore Road, The Flatts - Bermuda.
Bermuda???
He turned the card around, and there, in her unmistakable handwriting, was a simple message: "Ask for a white man´s cut".
He went back to his cabin, realized that he had forgotten his key inside, but luckily one of the cleaning staff was at hand to let him in. He went to sit down on the bed, and took stock. His clothes had all been washed, ironed and was neatly packed away in the cupboard, with his backpack stored at the bottom. There was also a tuxedo and a gleaming pair of black shoes that did NOT belong to him...
His documents including his passport all seemed to be there as well. Thumbing through his passport, he noticed something new in there... a visa for Mexico. When the hell did he get a visa for Mexico???
It was all a bit surreal. Suddenly the phone rang.
"Mr Hugo? Hi, this is the Loyalty Ambassodor Saturn Harris speaking. I am just calling to confirm that you will be attending the Captain`s Dinner at 7.30 tonight in the main dining room. Captain Harzberch is looking forward to meeting you."
The thick Carribean accent notwithstanding, she seemed pleasant enough, so he decided to throw the dice. "Uh, thanks. Yep, I will be there... but I am looking at the orientation information in my cabin right now... I am on the Empress of the Seas sailing to Bermuda, right?"
There was the inevitable pause on the other end of the line as she obviously tried to work out what kind of fruitcake did not know that he was on a cruise line. "That´s right, Mr Hugo. We dock in Hamilton tomorrow morning... Are you okay, sir?"
"Oh, yeah, I`m fine, but I do have some questions... could I maybe come see you? Where on the ship would I find you?"
"I have my Desk on Deck 6 next to the Windjammer Cafe. Sure, drop by anytime..."
He hung up, grabbed his key and headed down to Deck 6. He needed to get to the bottom of this...
The ship was like a small village, and he negotiated past a souvenier shop and a casino before heading down the stairs to Deck 6. His eyes focused on the attractive blonde animatedly gesturing at a floorplan on her desk rather than the elderly couple who were almost giddy with anticipation. He waited patiently for them to finish signing what could only have been a reservation form for a future cruise, ostensibly thumbing through some other cruise brochures.
As they headed off, he hustled over to her desk and plopped himself down on one of the comfortable chairs across from her. She flashed him a smile that must have sold a million cruises: "Mr Hugo I presume?"
They shook hands, she had a firm grip and he now noticed that she was quite a broad shouldered girl... no, scratch that, woman. "Uhh... Officer Harris? I notice you have three stripes... how do I adress you? And please call me Gideon."
She laughed, "In that case, Gideon, please call me Saturn. In cruise ship terms I do have offices stripes, but as I am just about to try selling you a cruise to Mexico, we might as well be on first name terms."
He immediately felt more at ease, and even felt like a bit of banter, "You could try Saturn, but in all honesty, I never even bought this one. Kind of why I am here... do you have any idea how I got onto this ship?"
Her face assumed a more quizical look, and she leaned forward intently. "Now THAT is quite interesting Gideon... as far as I am aware, you checked on board just like any other passenger, although I did find it interesting that you were invited to the Captain´s table first night... the Captain gave no specific reason, but the other guests are all quite distinguished. You are also a last minute, as I did not have you on my advance passenger manisfest."
"What makes you so distinguished Gideon?" her eyes had only a hint of playfulness, and there was something else there... he suddenly felt like a mouse being eyed by a very beautiful, but deadly, cat. His hand unconsciously went to the ever present stone he had round his neck... and comfortingly, it was there. There was a flicker of... recognition? Affirmation? and then she was all smiles and congeniality again, "Be that as it may, you will have a fantastic time tonight, and as I can see that I am not getting a sale out of you today, have a great afternoon.... my next clients are here!"
And with that, he was dismissed with more questions than before.
He wandered the deck for a bit, went down to the check in counters, but after further quizzical looks and more of the same story - "According to our records you checked in normally sir, we have your passport, single cabin portside..." he gave it up, and tried a different tack. Phone calls to Jamie´s cell went unanswered, he tried his sister internationally but that too went unanswered. He checked his e-mail account, but nothing there either. Taking advantage of the ATM on board, he drew a couple of hundred dollars to refill his wallet, all the while wondering... What the hell was going on?
He concluded that his best bet would indeed be the captain, and after a restless couple of hours he suited up for dinner. He made his way to the opulent main dining hall, and naturally the captain´s table would be in the centre. The Captain was a pleasant man of about six foot in height and strong Nordic features, his wife a striking woman with a firm but kind manner. The other guests were minor US celebrities, one of the Cruise line executives and a few prominent businessman. Gideon was careful not to get caught up in what turned out to be lively dinner conversation, the busty Soap Star belying a vacant first impression by a strong... and informed left wing... opinion on US politics and foreign policy. He took advantage of her rising voice as she contested a point with the strongly Republican Texan Oil millionaire to lean over to the captain, who seemed relieved to have his attention diverted as well.
Gideon decided to be more subtle in his approach than with Saturn, "Captain, thank you so much for the invitation to join your table tonight. Might I enquire how did I merit such a sought after ticket?"
The Captain smiled engagingly, and spoke in a conspiritual low voice, "Mr Hugo, the manner of your embarkation was... unusual, to say the least. Suffice it to say, your friend Miss Morales had to be at her persuasive best for me to allow an unconscious man to be helped on board the ship, but her family has been one of the company´s best clients for many years... So I allowed it. And I must confess, I was quite intrigued to hear your story. Not that it is any of my business mind, you seem some strange things in this business..."
Gideon could only smile weakly. Jamie´s family was one of the company´s best clients? The CAPTAIN was in on it? What the hell was he tangled up in? He was not about to delve too deeply into his adventures on the American mainland so far, he was developing a healthy distrust of people, even someone as seemingly benign as the man before him.
"Captain, I apologize for any inconvenience... I guess I was just dead tired, I must confess to having had an incredibly stressful time at work and maybe it just got to me", which sounded weak even to him, but the Captain, fortunately, got pulled into a debate on the responsibility of the United States to intervene in Central African countries, and he was left to his own devices...
As desert was served, the Captain was called away on a bit of business, and Gideon suddenly found the Captain´s wife seated next to him. She had seemed thoroughly bored by the debate that had now died down, as the main protagonists have agreed to disagree and have gone on to more harmless subjects.
He was about to say something when she forestalled him in an accent that seemed half British half Australian, "Terrible business with Jamie´s father, don´t you know. Such a wonderful man, and so humble given his tremendous success. I have had the privilige to meet him on these cruises twice... always a gentleman, it is so sad..."
Careful, Gideon... "Yes, it is. Umm... how did you hear of it?" It seemed like a nice vague question, but she looked at him as if he had just fallen from the sky.
"Why, dear boy, it was all over the papers and TV stations for months. Not strange, really, given that he owns most of them. But still, you would have to have been stranded on a desert isle not to have known. I must say coverage has died down considerably... maybe you could fill me in, has there been any improvement on his condition?"
His mind raced as he tried to piece it together- Jamie´s father is a powerful man, owns newspapers, tv stations... and suddenly the penny dropped, as did his glass... almost. He whispered to himself: "Ricardo Morales."
He mumbled something to the effect of sorry, no he had no news, then excused himself and hurried to one of the internet terminals on Deck 5. Googling furiously, he had soon pulled up over a half dozen articles that started to piece things together:
"Billionaire media mogul Ricardo Morales falls into mysterious coma"
"Acting CEO William de Luca steers share price back to former levels"
"No change in condition, legal action commences"
Ricardo Morales, a true success story and the living embodiment of the American dream. Immigrated to the US as a child, started his own local magazine in his neighbourhood as a teenager, followed that up with a radio station and over the next fifty years built up a media empire second possibly only Rupert Murdoch spanning newspapers, magazines, sattelite and national tv channels and radio stations.
He had survived two wives, and had only the one daughter... Jamie!!! Seemingly vibrantly healthy, he had fallen into a mysterious coma more than five months ago. His lieutenant in the business, William de Luca, had taken the reins of the global business and had restored investor confidence without its charismatic leader.
According to the reports, both William and Jamie had an army of doctors trying to find the cause... and cure... for the mogul´s condition. There had been no answers forthcoming in months, however, and a leaked media report had indicated that there was a strict provision in Morales´s will that, should he be on any kind of life support, said machines were to be turned off after a six month period. That time was approaching rapidly... but his daughter Jamie was fighting the provision, with little success so far.
Gideon was initially unable to sleep, his mind reeling from this new information to process. Somehow he had become tangled up with one of the most powerful families in the world, and whatever purpose Jamie had for him in her private battle, it had almost cost him his life already. Once more fingering the stone round his neck, he drifted off into a restless sleep.
He awakened to the loud booming of the ship`s horn, and rushing out to deck he was in time to see the ship navigate the narrow passage into the harbour to the small town of St George on the smaller islet of Bermuda. He dimly remembered that Bermuda was the playground of the rich and famous, and judging from some of the opulent houses dotting the rocky inlets, it was believable. The ship deftly manouvered to the dock, and by nine o`clock passengers were disembarking in their masses to go do some island shopping, enjoy the various beaches or hire a moped to explore the island.
Gideon dressed and grabbed the card with Ricky`s details on it and went down to the dock. He hailed a taxi, the driver was one of the local Islanders, a chatty African with an incomprehensible acccent, which did not stop him from chatting away to Gideon for the entire 30 minute drive to Ricky`s barbershop. The shop turned out to be on the bigger islet across a mile long bridge, on the other side of the main town Hamilton. On the way there Gideon passed the small airport and several more beautiful beaches.
The taxi driver dropped him off in front of a delapitated building with a crude sign painted in bright red - Ricky`s Barber Shop. Surveying the surroundings, Gideon realized he was quite far from the normal tourist spots. Local kids eyed him curiously, as did the locals on bikes and in cars that passed him. He was suddenly very aware of his distinctive white skin, and hurried into the shop.
Inside was all hustle and bustle. Two barbers were busy with customers, and it was a cacophony of noise as they all tried to talk over each other. The one with the loudest voice was a wiry tall fellow with greying hair and the quickest mouth he had ever heard. Wielding his scissors like a kung fu master, he was simultaneously wipping off masses off the formerly glorious mane of the elderly gentleman in front of him, while entertaining the other customers with a joke in English that Gideon was unable to follow. This had to be Ricky...
Gideon uncertainly stood for a moment, not sure what he was supposed to do or where he was supposed to wait. Suddenly Ricky turned to him, "What you waitin`for boy. Sit down!!! Dontcha no worry, we be cutting yo hair fo ya no problem, just gimme a minute."
Gideon took a deep breath, he just knew things were about to become interesting again, and probably not in a good way. "Hi... I`m here for a White Man`s Cut?"
Ricky just paused for a second, then promptly did one more grandiose side cut to the hair of the gent in front of him, then proudly announced: "Son, you look like a million dollars. Now get outta my chair!"
The old guy seemed to have little problem with being called son, and he was hardly out the door when Gideon sat down, and Ricky prepped him for what he was sure to be a memorable haircut, "Saw you a bit nervous there boy... you didna think a black man can cut a white boy`s hair. Boy, you in for a big surprise..."
Gideon´s attention was divided three ways at this point... he was faintly aware of Ricky deftly snipping away at the top of his head, while sustaining an oratory on the advantages of being a black man, but he was also suddenly very aware of the other customer who was surreptiously eyeing him in the mirror facing both of him. The other man was clearly not an islander, but had more of a Latin look... thick bushy eyebrows and a hawkish nose, and he was dressed casually yet in clothes that spoke of quality, cotton slacks and a designer green sport shirt. The other barber was just finishing shaving him.
He tuned in to Ricky again, "yeah boy, I only would wanna be a black man. If I woulda wanna be somethin else, I woulda been a white woman`s poodle. Man, they got it made! Saw a white woman with a poodle once, that dog had a sweater. I don`t got a sweater!"
Suddenly his tone changed as he leaned over to trip the bit behind the ears, and he spoke very quietly to Gideon, "Boy, hustle to the back of the shop after this haircut. Do no talk to nobody, you know what to do once you get back there, I am slippin somethin in your pocket right now."
And with that, he straightened up. Gideon felt something in his shirt pocket, but aware of the other man`s previous scrutiny, who had now stood up and was paying up his bill, he said nothing. He walked out the front door just as Ricky finished up Gideon. He gladly accepted the money, then with a casual glance at his colleague, pushed Gideon through the curtain leading to the back door. As he entered into the messy courtyard in the back, Gideon could hear Ricky loudly guffaw... "Ah, more white folk. This musta be my lucky day!!! Sit down lady, you own a poodle?"
Gideon put his hand in his pocket, and unravelled a small piece of paper. It was wrapped around two keys... one that looked like a locker key, and the other... he suddenly realized he was holding the key to the powerful Honda motorcycle that was in front of him. The piece of paper simply read: "It`s Rico`s Birthday when rodents are chatty..."
Suddenly he was aware that Ricky had gone very quiet inside, instead he was aware of low voices. A chill went down his spine, and he resisted the urge to just run to the front. He creeped back to the curtain, and carefully peered through, just in time to see his worst fear realized- It was HER, the bitch from DC with the big lips and bigger forehead, and she was holding a razor to Ricky`s throat. She was flanked by toughs that had been following him in South Africa. Too late, he dropped the curtain, as it slid back Hoodlum no 1, the guy with the bad dye job, spotted him and started for the back.
"Shit." He jumped on the bike, very aware of only having driven a motorbike once before in his life. Putting the key in the ignition, he tried to do too many things at once, and as the engine roared into life he proceeded to ram the bike into the wall of the shop.
Everything happened at once. As Hoodlum no 1 came running out the back with a gun cocked, suddenly the latin guy from the shop came round the corner and rammed the tough in the stomache in a rugby tackle that would have made the South African rugby team proud, driving the wind from his lungs and leaving him gasping on the ground, his gun flung across the courtyard.
Latin Guy was up in a flash and helped Gideon get the bike upright. "Man, am I glad Jamie asked me to come help you out. Get behind me on the bike bro, we gotta get outta here right fucking now!!!"
Gideon took a nanosecond to consider his options, but as Hoodlum no2 crashed through the door at the back, he made his decision. He jumped on the bike behind Latin Guy as the engine roared to life once more and they were off like a bullet, round the corner and out on the narrow road.
Holding on for dear life, he realized that obviously his newfound ally was an old hand at handling motorbikes, and he was zigzagging through the tourist traffic in an almost suicidial way, prompting angry horn blowing and curses from irate Americans out to enjoy a casual ride round the island. Suddenly, Latin Guy shoved something in his hand - a cellphone. "Dude, I am gonna need your help. Those assholes back there are right behind us I am sure, we got no time to waste. Redial the last number on that phone, and tell Saturn we coming, she better start the engines."
Gideon held on with dear life with his left arm while punching the redial button on the phone, and only then looked at the number - SH. He was calling the Loyalty Ambassoder from the ship? To start the engines? What the hell? She answered on the second ring: "Rico? Everything ok?"
"No, it´s not Rico, it´s Gideon. We are riding like hell to get away from some psychos that are out to hurt me, and you are to get the engines ready, we are coming. Saturn, what the hell is going on?"
The only he got was, "Just get here quick. Rico will explain". Click.
He put the phone in his shirt pocket which was starting to get crowded, just as Rico grunted visibly in front of him. "Company!"
Gideon looked back, and sure enough a small red mini-cooper was racing through traffic behind him, it would not take two guessed to guess who was in the car. Rico kicked the bike into high gear just as they crossed the small bridge to Gibbet Island. "Name´s Rico Fuentes bro, we got a lot to talk about, but let´s wait till we rid of psycho lady and the asshole brothers ok?"
And with that, the could hear a loud crash behind them, and suddenly the Mini Cooper was right behind them. Gideon glanced back once more, and the menacing look Forehead lady was giving him spoke volumes. Hoodlum no 1 was sporting a cut lip, and was clearly pissed off as he started to cock his pistol. "Rico, get some distance between us and these guys, they are about to shoot at us!"
As if by the grace of God, they were suddenly at the Causeway which linked the two islands, a narrow strip with hardly enough space for one line of traffic. Traffic moved bumper to bumper in both directions, but the narrow shoulder was just wide enough for the motorbike to jump on and suddenly they were clear of the mini cooper. Gideon could just imagine his pursuers cursing...
As he breathed a sigh of relief, they transversed the more than 1 mile bridged then jumped off the shoulder on the other side. "I don`t suppose we are going back to the ship now are we Rico?" That would have been too simple.
"No bro, damn right. In fact, we are just about outta here..." and he turned off to the small airport.
Hurtling past the main terminal building, they went to what appeared to be the hangars… Rico abruptly slammed on the brakes and they skidded to a halt. "No time for formalities bro, we gotta jump this fence and make a run for it!" And they duly vaulted the small fence separating them from the tarmac just as a small jet started to taxi out of the closest hanger.
The hatch popped open, and they jumped in just as the Mini Cooper burst through the fence and started at them.
Saturn was at the controls, and clearly had her foot on the gas as soon as they were in the plane. "Welcome to Crazy Ass Airways boys, strap in and enjoy the ride!"
The Mini Cooper seemed to be gaining on them for a few seconds, and Gideon was sure they would be cut off, but the jet accelerated quickly and then they were in the air and away!!!
Gideon slumped back in his seat. "Ok guys, would somebody please just tell me what the FUCK is going on?!!"
Hamilton to Gibbet Island.Flatts InletThe Causeway across to the airport - half a mileFront StreetHarbour road on the other side of the island - facing Hamilton and meets at roundabout at Corkscrew HillPremise for Bermuda:Ricky is an old friend of Jamie's - and has been entrusted with crucial information, being the whereabouts of Rico Fuentes. They will meet in the barbershop, but the meeting is interrupted by the arrival of Natalia Sharbakova and her cohorts. They threaten Ricky with his life to reveal the location of Rico and Gideon - they sneak out the back and charge off on motorbikes, a chase ensues on the old railway trail round the breath of the island, but they manage to lose their pursuers by creating a pile-up on the Causeway and then getting away on a private plane - where Heather Wallace is waiting for them...
posted by Pieter G @ 11:10 AM
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