Caribbean Interlude

"Naiomi crouched in the dark. She could scarcely see her hand in front of her face but she knew that the way out of the room was somewhere in front of her. She knew that she had to move but she was unsure of what obstacles lurked in her path. She tried again, unsuccessfully, to stop her hands from trembling. She felt disoriented and unsteady. Her fear enveloped her like a chill mist. She took a deep breath in an attempt to regulate her gasping respiration. Her pulse was racing. She had to do something. If she remained where she was she knew she would die. She had to move to save her life and her sanity. Naomi reached out with her left hand to take the hand of her friend Minerva who cowered by her side. "Min!" she whispered hoarsely, "we have to go now before we're discovered! We can't stay here! If we do, it will find us and we'll die! I don't think we're hidden in the darkness! I think it can smell us!" Naomi tugged at her friend's hand. Something was terribly wrong! In an instant she realized that there was no resistance. The weight was wrong. It was slippery. She wanted to scream! In her left hand she held the severed hand of her friend. She leaped to her feet, but the floor was wet, too, and she slipped and fell. She was up again in an instant but now she was covered in what she knew must be blood. She could feel it run down from her scalp onto her face. She could feel it trickle down between her breasts. She could feel it drip from her outstretched arm. Naomi's stomach churned. She had to escape! She threw herself forward in the blackness toward what she prayed was the exit."

Sara snapped the book shut. Horror novels weren't the kind of reading that made for a relaxing, lazy day on the beach. She stretched out on the canvas lounge chair and drew her feet toward her a few inches to ensure that they didn't extend beyond the shadow of the large umbrella planted in the sand next to her. An attendant in a white cotton jacket appeared at her elbow and presented her with a tray on which sat another ice cold martini. Sara removed her sunglasses and took the frosty glass.

Sara had promised herself this Caribbean vacation for years. Finally, she had been able to break away from her demanding schedule and book two weeks at a luxurious beach-side hotel. The only thing that would make it better, she reflected, would be to meet the man of her dreams. Oh, there had been a dalliance here, a brief affair there, back home in London, but nothing that held the promise of developing into real love. British men were so undemonstrative, so cool, so aloof. Perhaps she would meet her soulmate here in the tropics where everything but the cocktails was hot.
[Maddog]
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Sara took a sip of the delightful cocktail, a Cosmo. She lay back on the lounge chair and closed her eyes. When she next opened her eyes, it was dark outside. How strange. She could have sworn she had closed her eyes for only a minute or two. She sat up and looked around. The beach was so dark at night, away from all the ambient light of the big city. She heard the lapping of the gentle waves in front of her and thought about how peaceful it was. The quiet was suddenly disrupted when she sensed someone near her. She looked to her right and she saw a dark shadow approaching. She looked again and she could swear she saw the gleam of a knife dripping with blood. Sara closed her eyes and let out a piercing scream. She wanted to run but her fear pinned her to the canvas chaise. Her heart was racing and then she could feel and smell the hot, minty fresh breath on her face just before she heard a masculine voice say “Miss, are you alright?” Her eyes flew open and she saw the handsome attendant leaning over her. In one hand he was holding a plate of cheesecake covered in a thick cherry sauce and in the other a large knife with which to cut the dessert. Momentarily confused, she looked around and then saw the couples and other vacationers sitting on the veranda of the beautiful hotel behind her, sipping wine and enjoying fancy desserts, like cherry-covered cheesecake! Her heartbeat slowed to almost normal as she once again heard the voice of the attendant. “Even though you missed dinner, I thought a beautiful woman like you wouldn’t want to pass on dessert. I’m so sorry I startled you.”
[Margaret]
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Sara looked at the man with the cheesecake. "Are you the idiot who brought me the cosmo? I was drinking martinis! In fact, that last drink even looked like a martini! But I know martinis, and I know cosmos, and that was a cosmo! Of course I drank it anyway, but that's beside the point! When I want gin I want gin, not rum!" She paused a moment to regroup. "What's in a cosmo, anyway? I think I was thinking mojito when I said rum. Oh, well, in any case it wasn't what I wanted."

The man from the hotel looked crestfallen. "Actually, it was a martismo. A cross between a martini and a cosmo. The bartender just invented it and wanted to see if the guests liked it. That one's on the house." He perked up and smiled. "Would you like another?"

"Oh, barf. By the way, you look familiar. Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

"You may have seen me working along the beach at the Blotto Grotto Bar. Or waiting tables at the Wino Rhino. I only fill in at the hotel once in awhile."

"No, that's not it."

"I used to be at the Groggy Frog." Sara shook her head. "The Tipsy Gypsie? The Wine Swine? The Drunken Skunk?"

"No," replied Sara. "I'm sure I'll think of it. And take that cheesecake away. I can't eat cheesecake. I'm addicted to it. One bite and I'd have a relapse. I'd buy up every piece of cheesecake in this banana republic, lock myself in my cabana and roll in it. I'd eat until they hauled me out on a gurney. I just spent a month in detox and rehab, so don't offer me cheesecake!"

As the waiter turned to make the sandy slog back to the hotel Sara took stock of her situation. "I've been vegging out on the beach, getting myself spooked by reading horror novels. This is no way to spend a vacation. Tomorrow I'll do something like take the tour to the Mayan ruins. Perhaps that will keep the brain cells alive. It might even be interesting. And who knows, I could even meet someone whose intellectual universe is a bit larger than..." she looked at the waiter's disappearing figure "...serving cocktails and cheesecake on the beach."
[Maddog]
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Abruptly, Sara stood...
[Caroline]
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up.
[Margaret]
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Just before dismissing the waiter completely from her mind, she wondered again where they had crossed paths. However, being haughty, shallow and self-centered, Sara soon was thinking of other things. For example, just how stunning did she look in her teeny weeny polka dot bikini and was the waiter hot for her. Lost in thought Sara collected her belongings and headed back toward her luxurious beach-side hotel and her extravagant suite. She deserved nothing less than the best, after all she was daddy's girl.

Sara had almost reached the hotel when her cell phone began sing. The sound, completely unexpected at this hour, startled her so much that she dropped her bag. She fumbled around until she grabbed her phone. Sara glanced at the display but didn't recognize the number. After the briefest moment of hesitation she answered the phone. "Hello?"

A deep throaty voice responded, "I know where you are."

Sara nearly dropped the phone as she felt a tremor of fear course through her body. The horror novel that Sara had been reading earlier in the day had left her a little edgy. She had been sure that the waiter was carrying a large knife dripping with blood. And now this phone call. She was going to have to curtail her cocktails and change her vacation reading.

Overcoming the temptation to hurl the phone and flee in fear, Sara commanded, "Tell me who you are!"

She heard some heavy breathing on the other end. "I've heard that sound before," she thought. It was the sound she and her sorority sisters used to make when crank calling some of the dweebier co-eds at the university.

"Candi, is that you?" Sara demanded. "Bunny, are you there?"

Giggles erupted on the line. "Oh, Sara," her sorority sister, Candi, hollered into the phone. "Your dad told us where you were we decided to join you! All of us from the Omega 3 Beta Carotene Sorority are here!"

Much screaming ensued. When things had quieted the girls made a plan to get together. Sara put all thoughts of intellectual pursuits aside as they decided to spend the next day sunbathing, drinking cocktails and playing their favorite game, "Critique the Geek."

Sara, her momentary fears forgotten, headed back to her suite. Though she had come to be alone and perhaps engage in a dalliance or two, she was excited to have her "sisters" here. It was going to be a great vacation!
[Harry and Lucie]
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Sara paused. "Hold it!" she told herself. "Hol dit!" She was a professional business woman whose position and accomplishments commanded respect, Daddy or no Daddy. She was a partner in the prestigious English law firm Barrister, Barrister and Sara. She argued cases for multi-million pound clients. She drove a Roller and lived in a luxurious flat overlooking the Thames. Even though she was vacationing far from home in the Caribbean someone might recognize her. Could she really afford to misbehave with her old chums from her undergraduate days in the United States at Vassar? "How can I put the brakes on this without offending Bunny, Candi, and the rest of the old sorority?"

Lost in thought, it was a few moments before Sara heard a sound behind her. She turned and peered into the darkness. It had come from the direction of the ocean. As she searched the horizon she heard it again, barely audible above the crash of the surf. She walked to the water's edge. There it was. A large shape just a few hundred yards offshore. The water around it was agitated and slightly phosphorescent. She strained to see. Slowly, she discerned the outline of the object. It was a submarine! "What in the world is a submarine doing here?" she thought. "It must be some sort of practice maneuver." Intrigued, she continued to gaze seaward. A few moments later, she caught another motion out of the corner of her eye. A smaller object closer to the beach. Quickly it became apparent that it was a swimmer. A man in scuba gear. The mysterious frogman came ashore. Intent on the lights of the hotel he didn't see Sara there in the darkness. Stooping, he pulled off his flippers and slipped out of the harness that held his air tank. Next, he shed his wet suit. Sara was astounded to see that he was fully dressed. "Very Bondian," she commented silently to herself. The dark figure crossed the beach and headed for the hotel.

"This is too strange," she thought. "I need to find out what's going on. My colleagues back in London will never believe this." Then she considered, "Maybe I need help. If I can get my sorority sisters to behave for awhile we could keep a collective eye out... what one doesn't see or hear another might." Sara gave a sigh and with more than a few misgivings pressed the call back number on her cell phone. "Candi? Sara. Look, we need to talk. Ditch the girls for awhile and meet me in my room. I have something that could be..." she searched for a word that would appeal to her friend... "fun. I'll see you in a few minutes."
[Maddoggie]
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It was only a matter of minutes before Sara was back in her private cabana. She had just stepped into the shower to rinse off the pound of sand she had accumulated on the beach when there was a knock at the door. Wrapping one of the hotel's soft oversize towels around herself she peeked through the peep hole in the door, then opened it. It was Candi, her old friend from college. "Candi! It's such a surprise that you all turned up here at Las Pulgas! In addition to you and Bunny, who else made the trip?"

Her friend Candi was physically Sara's opposite. Sara was blonde, blue-eyed and statuesque. Her friend was brunette, dark-eyed and rather round. Sara could be animated, but her friend was effervescent and ebullient, outspoken and bouncy. Sara could spend hours with a good book or in intellectual conversation. Candi found it difficult to sit still for more than a few minutes. She bounced into Sara's room.

"Who else is here?" she echoed breathlessly. "Well, there's me, Candi, of course, but there's also Sandi, Mandi and Bambi. Bunny, Honey, and Sunny are here, too! Ooh, this is going to be so much fun! All us girls together again! It'll be like spring break, twelve years later!" Candi stepped forward and impulsively gave Sara a big hug. "Gosh! I haven't seen you since we graduated and you went back to London!"

Sara looked at her friend, and saw that she was dressed in Victoria's Secret's Sea Nymph low-rise bikini with metallic polka dots and matching ribbon bra. Sara greeted her, then said, "I didn't know that Victoria's Secret made your size." She paused, and added, "In fact, I don't think they do."

Candi giggled and replied, "I always feel that less is more. Besides, here we are, far from home, on the beach. Who'll know what I wear? Who'll care? Now, what's up? I can't wait to hear!"
[Fiona and Tabasco]
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"Candi, I think something is going on around here and I want to find out what it is. The waiter looks awfully familiar but I can't place him. Also, when I was walking back to the room, I saw a strange man in scuba gear exit the ocean. When he stripped off his wetsuit I could see he was fully dressed in a t-shirt and board shorts and sporting a skull tatoo on his left calf. I don't think he saw me as he headed to the hotel but my female intuition tells me he was a man on a mission but a mission for good or evil?"

"Ooooh, this is so exciting! A mystery! The girls are gonna love this," squealed Candi.

"No, no!" said Sara firmly. "It could be dangerous. I just want them to help us keep an eye out for anything suspicious." ("Of course, that is if they remember they are not eighteen and we are not on Spring Break," Sara muttered to herself.)

"I've got it," Candi said. "We can have all the girls wear their itsy bitsy bikinis and discreetly scope out the beach. Surely they will, between them, attract every guy at this hotel and one of them might be our mysterious water man."

"And then what?" Sara asked impatiently.

Just then, the lights went out. When the lights came back on, Candi was gone. Sara's first selfish thought was that she could go back to enjoying the solitude of her vacation but then reality kicked in and she quickly looked around the room. How could Candi disappear like that? She noticed one of the french doors to her cabana patio was ajar and spied a lone flip flop and drops of blood.

Sara, thinking quickly, called Candi's cellphone. Somewhere in her room, she heard the ring tone "I Will Survive." Since it wasn't Sara's phone it must Candi's!
[Miffy and Muffy]
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"Of course it's not my cell phone," thought Sara. "I'm calling Candi on my cell phone. So it has to be hers. Or does it? Whoever was here during that moment of darkness and left the flipflop could have dropped it. No, that doesn't work either. Candi's number wouldn't make a stranger's phone ring." Although Sara was a brilliant and successful lawyer she had a somewhat contradictory personality in that her sorority girl, social butterfly, cheerleader side occasionally came to the fore. "Well, whatever," she said aloud.

In a few minutes Sara had located the phone. Flipping it open, she went to it's directory to see if she could find the names and numbers that had been stored there. She was hoping to see numbers for Honey, Bunny, Sunni and the rest of the old gang. She felt her heart sink when she saw names like Boris and Natasha. Where were her friend's names? How could Candi, ebullient, enthusiastic, energetic, round Candi possibly know someone named Boris? She had to find the others, enlist their support and begin an immediate search for her friend.

Sara quickly set out for the hotel's main building to see if the desk clerk could help, first by confirming that they were, indeed, guests, and then by calling their rooms for her. She had only gone a few yards, however, when it dawned on her that she was still wrapped in the towel she had draped around herself when she left the shower to answer her door. "I can't run around barefoot!" she exclaimed to herself. "I need my sandals!"

A moment later, Sara was on her way again. As she plodded through the soft sand she wondered who could have left the flipflop. It couldn't have been the mysterious man she saw come ashore on the beach... the man with the tattoo on his calf that only Sara, with her extrordinary eyesight - made powerful as a serendipitous byproduct of eating inordinate numbers of carrots - could have seen in the dark... because when he left all his scuba gear behind at the water's edge he was wearing Florsheim wingtip oxfords. Besides, who in the world would wear flipflops to a kidnapping, for Pete's sake? Odd. Very odd. Perhaps it was a deliberate red herring. Then another thought crossed Sara's mind. What if the target of the abduction had been Sara herself, and not Candi? After all, the room had been pitch dark. She shuddered at the thought. She had to find help.
[Granddog]
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Sara pulled herself together and headed straight for the main building and the desk clerk. "Maybe a vacation by myself wasn't such a good idea," Sara mused. Between the horror novels she read to pass the time, the sun and the Cosmotinis she began sensing danger at every turn. This just wasn't like her. Part of the reason that Sara was so successful at her job was that she was fearless. Soon her logical thinking resurfaced. "Those girls are probably just goofing around trying to scare me. They don't seem to have matured past college high jinks." She breathed a sigh of relief sure that she had solved the mystery of Candi's disappearance and finally approached the main desk.


"May I help you?" asked the young man standing behind the desk. He smiled inquiringly. Sara smiled in return and said, "Yes. I am trying to locate my sorority sisters. They contacted me by phone but failed to tell me which cabana or cabanas they were staying in. We are all part of the Omega 3 Beta Carotene sorority."


The clerk, happy to help, searched the registry for the sorority sisters. "I am sorry. We do not have anyone listed under that name."


"Okay. What about the name Candi? Candy with an i, no last name. You know, like Madonna. My friend liked to think of herself as a porn star so she had her name officially changed." Sara queried.


"No. No Candi with an i. Are you sure your friends are here?" the young man asked.


"Yes. Yes. What about Bunny? Or Sunny? Honey? Mandi, Sandi or Bambi? Do you have any one with porn star monikers listed?" Sara was beginning to feel a little panicky. Was she losing her mind? Had she really just seen her old friend or had she imagined it?


"I am sorry ma'am. I can't find any one of those names. Can I do anything else?" the clerk inquired politely.


"No, thank you," Sara said quietly and turned to leave. Sara started back toward her room but then decided to stop by the hotel bar and have a drink. She needed to soothe her nerves. As she neared the bar she nearly collided with a tall, gorgeous hunk of man. "Excuse me," she said trying not to ogle him outright. As she stared at this man, dressed in a t-shirt, board shorts, and wing-tip oxfords, a look not many could carry off but he did oh so well, she tried to place him. He looked familiar. And then it hit her. The mystery man on the beach!


Sara smiled and said, "Hi. My name is Sara." The man returned her smile and said in a deep voice, "My name is Bob, Jim Bob."

[Caroline]
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The man continued, "Nice to meet you Sara. Sara what?"

"Sara Wellington Featherstone-Smythe. And you?"

"Well," the stranger replied, "My full name is Jim Bob Billy Joe Floyd Murdley, but my friends all call me J.B. Let me buy you a drink."

Sara's first impulse was to say no. After all, having come ashore in such a clandestine manner he was probably up to no good. In fact, he could be the kidnapper! If he were aware that Sara had seen him arrive, he could have intended to kidnap her in order to silence her, only to have snatched Candi by mistake! She shuddered. What had become of her friend? She thought of the blood spot on the floor. She must have assumed the worst when she referred to Candi in the past tense at the reception desk. Her words, "She liked to think of herself as a porn star" came flooding back. Sara's eyes became blurry with tears. Poor Candi. Poor gregarious, rolly-poly Candi. One brief liason years ago with that geeky Eugene from her sophomore chemistry class, and she thought of herself as a porn star. "Tsk, tsk," she said to herself.

After a moment's hesitation, however, Sara accepted the offer. It occurred to her that, if Murdley were the kidnapper, the more she knew about him the better. Fore-warned is fore-armed, she told herself. Perhaps she could glean some hint of Candi's fate and discover what the stranger was up to. It must be big! An assassination? Something with international impact such as the theft of a nuclear device? ("Well, maybe not a nuclear device," she thought. " Even if there were such a thing in this backward, tropical, humid, tourist destination, it would get all damp and mildewed and wouldn't work.") It must be more than something like a simple jewel heist, though... after all, he had come ashore from a submarine in the dark and a run of the mill thief didn't have access to submarines. Whatever it was, it must be something worth killing for (if indeed Candi were dead.) And the stranger was a hunk. She couldn't deny that he radiated a certain degree of animal magnetism.

As they settled into their seats in the bar Sara turned to her new acquaintance and said, "So, Jim Bob Billy Joe Floyd, where are you from and what do you do?"
[El Perro Rabioso]
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Murdley beamed at Sara. After a moment's pause, he responded with a non sequitur. "You look very nice, Sara. What is that terry cloth frock you're wearing? It looks a bit like a toga. It goes well with your Jimmy Choo sandals and blue eyes."

"You look very fashionable yourself," Sara adjusted the towel and, blushing coyly, went on. "I've always admired a man in Florsheim wing tips. They give you an executive look."

"Thanks. By the way," Murdley continued, "speaking of fashion, did you know that Julius Caesar was the first real fashionista? As emperor he forbade the wearing of beige before April 1st. In fact, his last, disappointed words, as he lay dying on the steps of the Roman senate and realized what his friend and assassin, Brutus, was wearing, were, 'ecru, Brute?'"

Sara was so impressed that she momentarily forgot that her new acquaintance had avoided her question about his origins. "Wow!" she exclaimed admiringly. "You certainly know your history... and fashion!"

Just then Sara's cell phone rang. She turned to Murdley with an apologetic smile, turned away and answered it. "Hello?"

A weak voice responded. "Sara! Help! It's me, Candi. You have to come quickly! Please!"
[Anonymous]
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"Candi!" Sara exclaimed. "Where are you?" There was silence on the phone. Sara thought the line may have disconnected but then she heard Candi mumble the words "Darth Vader" before letting out a blood-curdling scream.

"Candi, Candi!" Sara shouted desperately into the phone not realizing the line was dead.

Jim Bob rushed to her side. "What's going on?" he asked.

Although Sara longed to be comforted by his strong arms, in the wake of this situation she shoved aside the thought. Not only was she terrified for her friend but mystified at Candi's mention of the name Darth Vader. How were they going to find Candi and was it too late?

"J.B.," she said. "I need your help! I think someone has kidnapped and maybe even killed my friend Candi!"

"Well," Murdley said, "you are in luck. Normally I wouldn't tell someone this on the first date but I am a federal agent. Let me make a quick call and have someone triangulate the signal from your phone to Candi's so we can locate her!"

"Triangu-what?" Sara asked.

"Triangulation is a process by which the location of a radio transmitter can be determined by measuring either the radial distance, or the direction, of the received signal from two or three different points and is sometimes used in cellular communications to pinpoint the geographic position of a user," Murdely explained patiently. "I'll get on this, pronto! Just give me your phone."

Sara momentarily swooned as the thought "my hero" ran through her head. But this is no time for distraction. She is a tough cookie and smart, too. She had won many tough cases for her clients but, of course, she had lost a few, too. Her clients! That's why the name Darth Vader rang a bell! Her first case was defending a client they had nicknamed Darth Vader because he was sounded like Darth when he spoke. She had lost the case and Darth was sentenced to a life in prison for his many crimes. He swore he was going to make her pay. A chill ran up her spine at the memory.
[The Wonder Twins]
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Murdley took Sara's phone and punched in a number. After a brief wait, he barked, "This is J.B.B.J.F.M! Patch me through to Communications!" Sara couldn't pick up all of the ensuing conversation, but she heard a few fragments. "...in a Latin American backwater... of course I know you're in D.C.... no, the call ended five minutes ago.... what are you laughing at?..." Murdley snapped the phone shut and tossed it back to Sara. He looked grim. "No can do," he announced. "Sorry."

"Rats!" responded Sara. "You had my hopes up. Triangulation had kind of a sexy sound to it. Not scary like strangulation or as satisfying as adulation, but still. It was nice because it was three times better than monangulation but not ostentatious like quadangulation. Shoot. I really liked triangulation."

Murdley looked at Sara and said, gently, "You've lost your marbles, haven't you?"

Before she could answer, Sara's phone rang again. She snatched it up and answered hurredly. "Hello?"

"Sara! It's me again!" She could barely hear Candi's weak whisper. "You've got to come now before he comes back! And before I freeze to death!"

"Where are you?"

"I'm hanging upside down in the dark. I think I may be in a meat locker. Does the hotel have a meat locker?"

"I'm on my way!" Sara knew that she had to find her friend quickly. Not only was there a chance that her abductor might return but there was the real possibility that she could die of hypothermia, clad only in her micro bikini. Victoria's Secret might be adequate for the beach but it clearly wasn't appropriate refrigerator wear. She dashed for the hotel kitchen, Murdley right behind her.

As she ran through the hotel, Sara's mind was racing. She felt that she was being pulled in two directions at once. That things were spiraling out of control. On one hand, there was Murdley. Surely, he was up to something. Something big. At first she thought that he might be behind Candi's disappearance because he perceived her somehow to be an impediment to his mission. But then the name Darth Vader raised it's sinister head. If the Darth Vader Candi had mumbled about was the lifer from London, what was he doing here? If he were looking for revenge he could find it more easily when Sara returned from vacation. And if he were after Sara, why did he harm Candi? Was he using Candi as bait to lure Sara to the meat locker? There couldn't possibly be a connection between an English murderer and an American secret agent, could there? She had to sort it all out, but not now. Now she had to find her friend and find her fast! Who knew what she was rushing into? It was a comfort to know that J.B. was right behind her.
[M. Dog]
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Sara had to find a meat locker, and fast! She headed for the hotel's restaurant and through the swinging kitchen doors. The waiters protested, but J.B. was behind her flashing an official-looking badge. Sara realized that J.B. hadn't actually said what KIND of federal agent he was. FBI? CIA? IRS? Since the restaurant staff probably got a look, Sara assumed she was in good hands with a policeman of some sort and not an accountant. She soon found the freezer and pried open the door.

"Candi!!" she cried. "Are you in here??"

Candi, now fully clothed in a fur coat, was sipping some rum she'd found in the freezer. "So nice of you to join me, Sara," she grinned maniacally as Murdley closed the freezer door behind them....
[Gwen]
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Sara stopped so suddenly that Murdley crashed into her from behind, knocking her into the fur-clad Candi and splashing rum all over the three of them. As they disentangled themselves, Sara shouted, "OK, everybody freeze! No pun intended. Nobody moves until I get some kind of explanation of what's going on. First, you, Candi. Why aren't you and the other girls registered at the hotel? Why were you kidnapped... it you were really kidnapped? Who are Boris and Natasha? Who is Darth Vader? And if you were kidnapped, how did you get loose and where did you get a fur coat? Finally, why did you grin maniacally when I came into the meat locker?" Then she spun around and faced Murdley. "And you!" she said. "Just who are you? What kind of federal agent are you? What are you doing here at the resort? Clearly you're not on vacation. And last but not least, you shut the meat locker door. Are we locked in? If so, you're an idiot!"

Murdley responded first. He pulled out his badge and showed it to Sara. In the dim light in the meat locker she strained to make out the tiny letters. Then she read, "Department of Health and Human Services!" She shook her head in disbelief, then looked over her shoulder and said, "Am I on Candid Camera?"
[Monsieur Dogg]
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"No my dear sweet Sara", quipped Candi as she flailed her hands in a whisking manner against her fur coat "you are not on Candid Camera!!". Wearing a face of frustration over the lack of wipes of any kind, Candi explains that Sara had tricked and manipulated her by using her unfortunate body shape and homely looks to advance Sara's relationships with men for several years. "But no longer", Candi proclaims in a shrill, unattractive voice "for now the police will put you behind bars for what you have done!".

Perplexed, Sara inquires "why would they do such a thing? I've done nothing wrong surely and besides I'm a lawyer on vacation so even if I had mistakenly done something that is deemed illegal I believe I shant have a problem at all!"

"I'm afraid you will have a severe problem. After all, the evidence the police will find in their investigation will point to you as the murderer!" Candi says in a lower and more steady (but still unattractive) voice.

"Murderer? I've not killed anyone ever! What are you talking about? And now that you've managed to get the rum off your coat would you please mind covering up a bit!"

Candi gapes, eyes wide, but quickly recovers her composure complete with a deathly glare.

Sara awkwardly continues "I told you before that bathing suit does not do well to flatter your...lovely figure. I'm a bit confused here and I'd love to get to the bottom of this but you are a bit of a distraction...".

Striking a pose which unfortunately includes showing off her body, Candi sneers "It seems in a drunken Cosmotini rage you have slain all of our sorority sisters with a knife and there is a blood trail that leads to your cabana. Oh, and by the way you subsequently chopped them into little bits and stashed their remains in a place that won't be to hard to find!."

"No..our friends?!" Sara says in shock and horror.

Throwing back her head, Candi cackles "Yes!!! And you took special delight in carving up that obnoxious waif Bunny!!!!!!"

Suddenly Murdley, having apparently missed the whole conversation due to his fretting over rum stained wingtips witlessly chimes in with raised eyebrows and a winsome smile "So ladies, what did I miss!"
[Jeff]
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"Er, I don't know what to say," Sara said.
[M.D.]
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Ignoring Murdley's question, Sara turned to him and asked, "Run see if this hotel has an exorcist. If not, check with the concierge and see if there's one on call. While you're at it, get a psychiatrist, too. Candi is either possessed or criminally insane."

J.B. answered, "OK! But then I'll have to go. I have some business to attend to that can't wait. If I don't see you again before you or I check out, it's been nice to meet you. Quite an experience. Bye, bye." As he left the meat locker, headed for the hotel's front desk, he thought to himself, "Let me outta here. These people are not just one brick short of a load, they're raving lunatics! Why couldn't my secret mission have taken me to Cancun, instead of this cuckoo's nest? Jeez!"

As soon as Murdley left, Sara turned back to Candi, who was foaming at the mouth. As quick as a cat, she leaped upon Candi and wrestled her to the floor. She looked around for something with which to restrain her struggling adversary. Not seeing anything useful, she sat on her chest with her knees on her opponent's arms, thus rendering her helpless. Sara then slipped out of her towel and began to tear it into strips, using them to bind Candi tightly. "I'll bet the hotel is going to charge me when they come up a towel short," Sara muttered to herself. As soon as she had trussed her up tightly, Sara stood up. When she did, Candi hissed at her. "Oh, put a sock in it," Sara responded irritably, and shoved the last scrap on towel in her former friend's mouth. The struggle had created body heat, but now she was getting cold and she no longer had the towel. The fur coat! It was nice and warm, so even though it reeked of rum Sara slipped it on and sat down to wait for whoever turned up from the hotel. As she waited, her first thought was to leave for home right away and put this nightmare behind her. But, then, she began to wonder about Jim Bob and whatever clandestine mission brought him to Las Pulgas. And she remembered how handsome he was, tattoo, shorts and wingtips notwithstanding. Well, maybe when she had Candi off her hands (she was sure her erstwhile friend's ravings about murder had been the product of a fevered brain) she could stay one more day.

Just then, she heard someone enter the meat locker behind her.
[El Doggo]
________________________

J.B. went to the front desk and inquired about an exorcist. The attendant declared the nearest Catholic church was about twenty miles from Las Pulgas. He was not sure if an exorcist resided there. "Bummer!" J.B. thought to himself. "What about a psychiatrist?" he asked. The attendant explained that one of the guests on the island may be a doctor of some kind. J.B. got what information he could about this guest and headed off to look for him.

As he walked along he thought about his mission. "Could Candi's apparent delusional madness be directly tied to the radioactive emanations I'm here to check out?".

Agent Murdley was sent to Las Pulgas to investigate a potential terrorist threat. Since there was only a slight chance this threat existed and no more than a couple of interviews with locals to back it up, only one CIA agent was deployed. Las Pulgas and the chain of islands around it are U.S. Protectorates so Murdley's Health and Human Services badge acts as a cover while allowing him to have access to certain facilities and to question people with authority.

"Once I talk to this Dr. Adolf Rammstein", J.B. thought as he reached the hotel bar "I'll have to go back to the sub and break out the geiger counter".
[Jeff]

_______________________
Back in the meat locker, Sara turned around to see who had entered. It was none other than the handsome attendant she had so coldly rebuffed back on the beach. Was he friend or foe, she wondered? Would he be willing to forgive or locker in permanently? She laughed to herself at her play on words. She could feel hysterical laughter starting to bubble up with in her. This was all getting too crazy.

"Ma'am," the attendant said. "Are you okay?"

That snapped Sara out of it. She hated when people called her ma'am! "Can't you see I need some help?" she shrieked. "This girl is crazy and I am freezing my butt off in here."

The attendant looked at her like he wasn't sure which one was crazy. But the hotel paid him good money to put up with such treatment so he politely said, "Let me help you up. Perhaps you can tell me why you have trussed up this woman so I can explain it to hotel security?"

As Sara stood she said, "Because she is crazy or drunk or a serial slasher which would truly be unusual for a woman." "But I am concerned for my sorority sisters who I thought were on the island but don't appear to have checked into the hotel. Candi here said she had killed them all and cut them up and was going to frame me!"

The attendant, George Pitt, thought to himself, "I need to ask for a raise". And then he called hotel security on this walkie-talkie. "Hot one in the cold room, hurry."
[mrs]
____________________________

As they waited for security, sensing a sympathetic ear, Sara related the whole story. She even included reading a horror novel on the beach and explained that it made her edgy and nervous. Hence her rather abrupt treatment of Pitt when he came to the beach to offer her cheesecake. "I'm sorry for behaving badly," she said. "Even though I'm an influential, successful barrister, I try to treat everyone with the civility they deserve. Even those who work in menial jobs in the tropics. I apologize."

"Apology accepted, " Pitt responded. "And I may be able to help. You see, I am an exorcist and part-time psychiatrist as well as a bartender, waiter and erstwhile fry cook. After I graduated summa cum laude with a degree in English literature I discovered that these were the things I was most qualified to do. Unfortunately, exorcism doesn't keep me busy, nor does it pay very well. Psychiatry has more promise but as I don't have any kind of medical credentials I only get to practice part time in places like Las Pulgas."

Sara, grasping at straws, said, "Anything you can do would be greatly appreciated! I think Candi is in bad shape. She looks like she's about to explode." She glanced at Candi who was straining against her bindings, red in the face, eyes bulging, and sweating in spite of the cool temperature in the meat locker. "And perhaps you can learn the truth about what happened to my other sorority sisters. Did she do them in..." Sara shuddered..." or did she make it all up?"

Pitt smiled and took the gag from Candi's mouth. She immediately began to spit and hiss. Pitt put the gag back in. "I think I'll have to calm her down, first," he said. I'll gain her interest with a little information about words (my favorite subject) and when she becomes engrossed I'll see if I can open a dialogue."

"Candi? Can you understand me?" Pitt asked. "Good. Well, did you know that there are at least thirty-five words for prostitute? Here are the ones I can think of: bawd, bimbo, trollop succuba, succubus, call girl, cocotte, courtesan, fille de joie, fancy woman, drab, doxy demimondaine, Cyprian, tramp, trull, white slave, roundheels, magdalene, scarlet woman, nightwalker, paphian, paramour, slattern, slut, quean, streetwalker, harlot, hetaera, lady of the evening, strumpet and light-o-love." Pitt looked to see if Candi was still listening. "There are also a lot of words for, say, an official. Like: Dogberry, bashaw, chamberlain, dewan, chiaus, sacristan, steward, waldgrave, vizier, reeve, pursuivant, provost, proconsul, procurator, Pooh Bah, wog, palatine, panjandrum, pasha, functionary, gabbai, gauleiter, hayward, hierarch, induna, mandarin, macer, macebearer, Junker, jemadar, intendant and prothonotary!" Pitt was on a roll. "Word origins are interesting, too. For example, did you know that the noun couch refers to a long recliner or a seat long enough to accommodate several persons. The length of the seat makes it comfortable to lie down on, or as the French say, se coucher, from which expression came the English word couch." With hardly a pause, Pitt went on. "Did you know that the English word sinister, meaning evil, comes from the Latin 'sinister' which means left?"

Abruptly, Sara interjected, "George! Look! I think Candi has passed out!"

Pitt reached over and felt for a pulse. In a moment, he said in a low voice, "It's worse than that, I'm afraid. She's dead."

"My God!" Sara rejoined in a strained voice, "You've killed her! She must have died of ennui! You bored her to death! Damn you English majors!"

Sara sat for a moment, breathing heavily. But as she calmed down and began to take stock of her situation things weren't as bad as they had initially seemed. With Candi no longer a threat, she could return to her cabana, get out of the rum-stained and now sweaty fur coat, shower, dress and investigate Candi's claims. Had she done in the other girls in a maniacal effort to frame her, Sara, or was it all just the ravings of a madwoman? Next, she could turn her attention to Murdley and perhaps find out what he was up to. She could always go home, of course, but by God she was going to see this thing through. She left Pitt to sort things out with security when and if they ever arrived, and headed back to her room. And maybe, she thought with a frisson of anticipation, she could talk Pitt into helping her.
[The Ancient Dogg]
________________________

Sara walks along the low lit pathway that leads back to her cabana. Lost in thought she hardly notices the bearded man passing by her. She assumes he must be headed to the bar for a drink or to the kitchen for a late night snack. In the distance she sees a familiar glow coming from the shoreline. "Is Murdley up to something again? I'm going to find out what this covert activity of his is all about!" Sara says aloud absently.

The bearded man opens the door to the meat locker. He anticipates having to make an assessment on the mental fitness of another guest. This would be no probem for him since he is a highly acclaimed psychiatrist who specializes in quick diagnosis and pharmaceutical prescription.

As the door swings open the doctor sees the attendent, George Pitt, standing over a large and apparently lifeless body. "You?! What are you doing here?" questions Dr. Rammstein.

"Ah, the goodly doctor Rammstein", says Pitt with a heavy German accent "I've been expecting you...".

George Pitt, previously known as Georg Pittenacher, was once Adolf Rammstein's best student at the University in Berlin. Rammstein had spent several years researching and developing medication. Pittenacher became adept at chemical experimentation under his teacher's instruction. After only one year, however, Pittenacher began to introduce certain chemical agents to his drugs that were not only untested but potentially hazardous. He was finally stripped of his doctor's title once Rammstein discovered his secret experiments using radioactive medication to treat a variety of mental problems (many of which were already easily treatable with established drugs).

"I vould love to talk und catch up boot I'm afraid I cannot let anyvunn know my real identity." declares Pitt.

"Your identity? What are you talking about? Tell me you're not continuing your experiments on unsuspecting subjects!! That's grounds for incarceration!" Rammstein responds.

"You do not have to worry any more about me or my work.." Pitt says in a creepily slow and even voice as he pulls out a Lugar pistol equipped with a silencer. He aims the gun at Rammstein and pulls the trigger...
[Jeff]
_______________
...and nothing happens. He pulls the trigger again. Still, nothing. "Damn these German made Lugars," Pitt thinks to himself. "Why can't I have one of those kick-ass Austrian Glocks, like that stud Murdley?"
[Windy]
__________________

Pitt turned the muzzle of the pistol toward his own face and looked down the barrel. Then he gave it a good shake. Hitting the weapon against the heel of his left hand a couple of times to dislodge any debris clogging the firing mechanism, he once again pointed it at the hapless Dr. Rammstein. With a cruel smile, Pitt depressed the trigger once again. Just as he did so, Rammstein lunged forward in a desperate effort to deflect Pitt's aim. The Lugar fired just as Rammstein's momentum caused his would-be assassin's arm to swing to his left. The bullet that was intended for the bearded doctor pierced the wall of the meat locker instead.

The Las Pulgas resort was built some years before on a small island just off the coast of the republic of Platanos y Cocos. As there was no natural gas or electricity on the island the utilities were powered by propane, which was delivered twice a month by tanker ship. The LPG tank was located just outside the hotel's kitchen, against the wall of the meat locker. The tank had been filled only two days before the confrontation between Pitt and Rammstein.

The errant projectile from Pitt's unreliable Lugar crashed through the wall of the meat locker and pierced the propane tank. Instantly, the heat of the nine millimeter bullet ignited the propane. The resulting explosion was felt by villagers five miles away on the mainland. On flight 456 from Caracas to Miami, which happened to be passing over Platanos y Cocos, the copilot turned to the captain and asked, "Did you see that huge flash of light just off our starboard wing? What in the world could that be? There's nothing down there but jungle!" The force of the blast vaporized the meat locker, kitchen, and entire south wing of the hotel. Fortunately for the resort, the hour was late and there were no employees in that end of the building with the exception of the chef de cuisine who no-one liked anyway. Pitt and Rammstein were reduced to their molecular constituents, undistinguishable from the microscopic bits of the beef that had been stored in the locker.

[Der dog und Frau Carolein]

_____________________

Agent Murdley clambers back onto the shoreline with a very wet geiger counter in tow. "Why must I have to use outdated equipment? The government is so damn cheap! Not only am I using a personal sub from the 60s but I've got the most obvious and clumsy looking radiation detector ever! Its hard to impress chicks when they only see you in boardshorts and wingtips wielding something that looks like a giant rusty weedwacker..." Murdley mutters to himself.

"What is going on here J.B., if that is you're real name." Sara says, hands on hips, standing in Murdley's path from the shoreline. "I don't think the Department of Health and Human Services supplies their 'agents' with such fancy disguises and equipment!". Being from England, Sara finds the mysterious Murdley's somewhat outdated attire quite appealing. And what was he doing with that vintage weedwhacker?

As Agent Murdley starts to fumble for an explanation, he realizes he hasn't been able to get this beautiful English woman out of his mind since their first meeting. He throws the geiger counter down on the sand and walks towards Sara like a high fashion model.

Sara, who's been desperate for a dalliance since coming to Las Pulgas, throws her arms around J.B.. The two embrace in a very passionate kiss. Just then the couple feels a tremor beneath their feet as something, somewhere explodes. The evening sky lights up all around them. "Wow! This is meant to be!", Sara and J.B. say aloud simultaneously in amazement.

After a moment the two realize that something else had exploded aside from their desire for one another. "Um, what happened to your mentally unstable friend?" J.B. inquires politely.

"I left her with the attendent--George Pitt. He talked her to death...it was very horrible. He said he would take care of things..." Sara replies.

"Wait a minute! It can't be! I just sent a doctor Rammstein to the meat locker!" proclaims Agent Murdley.

"So what does that have to do with anything?" Sara asks confusedly.

Murdley tells her about the connection between Rammstein and Pittenacher and how the two had parted ways. "Pittenacher is wanted by several government authorities! He has many aliases including one George Pitt!!!" Murdley says as he pieces everything together.

"You think those two had something to do with the explosion?!", Sara says in shock over the whole story. "What, what do we do? What does this all mean?".
[Jeff]
____________________

'Well, for one thing, we need to get under cover. All this debris that has been raining down around us while we've been standing here on the beach is really annoying," Murdley remarked. He and Sara began to run for the shelter of the beach-side umbrella rental kiosk. He continued, breathlessly, "As to what it all means, I hope it means that Las Pulgas will comp your stay." As they ran he caught a glimpse of the crater that had appeared where half the hotel had been. "I can't think of anything less guest-friendly than a faux pas like this!"

Once Jim Bob Billy Joe Floyd and Sara reached shelter and regained their composure, he went on. "Whatever happened to Pittenacher, Rammstein, Candi and any other unfortunate who may have been caught up in the explosion doesn't matter. I have bigger fish to fry. You were right. I'm not really with the Department of Health and Human Services. I'll level with you. I'm really with the CIA, and I'm here on a mission to trace the source of mysterious radiation coming from the area of the ancient Mayan temples on the mainland just to the west of this island. It's like nothing the scientific community has ever seen before. We suspect that it may be extraterrestrial in origin. There is a real possibility that whoever discovers the technology behind this strange energy will then have the means to bring civilization to its knees. In fact, we think that Pittnacher may have discovered something and that it was that radiation that he used in his loathsome and heinous mind experiments." Murdley raised the back of his hand to his forehead and gazed at the horizon. "Tomorrow, I set out for the mainland with my wet weedwhacker."

[Maddog]

________________

Sara felt her pulse quicken and began to think of the ways they could pass the time until Murdley continued his quest. A smile spread across her face as she looked at Murdley and said in a sultry voice, "I would like to change into something a little more comfortable. This fur coat is hot, sticky and smelly. Would you care to accompany me to my room and join me for a drink?"

Murdley did a bit of a double take. His mind had been on his upcoming journey into the jungle to search out the source of the radiation. But now he found himself being invited to a beautiful woman's room for an alcoholic beverage and, if his finely tuned, highly trained sixth sense was right, an amatory interlude. He felt himself flush. Be alert, he reminded himself. This could be a nefarious ploy to deflect me from my mission or, even worse, spring an ambush. After all, the fate of civilization as we know it rests on my success. He lowered his voice and wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh my God! Would I?" he answered.

A few minutes later Sara led Murdley into her cabana. "Why don't you call room service and order us a bottle of wine while I get comfortable?" Sara said. Sara suddenly paused. "I guess room service is out of the question since the food service section of the hotel was obliterated. Why don't you look in the mini-fridge. I think there are a couple of Coronas left by the previous guest."

Murdley turned to look for the mini-fridge when he heard Sara say, "That's much better." He swiveled his head back in her direction and saw her standing stark naked. Ordinarily, Murdley was a focused and committed agent and did not let his personal desires interfere with his job. But he also was practical. His weedwhacker was still wet and he couldn't possibly do anything with it until the following morning. So he let his desire override the need to protect the world, kicked off his wingtips and closed the space between himself and Sara.

The next morning Murdley staggered across the beach toward the resort's dock. Sara traipsed along behind him, singing cheerfully to herself. They had decided that she would accompany him as she had strong orienteering skills, acquired when she was in the Girl Scouts, that could be vital to the mission. Given a compass and a topographical map she could find a needle in a haystack. She could even use triangulation to find themselves should they become lost.

There was no-one at the dock, as the attention of the hotel employees was focused on the devastation of the last night's explosion. Murdley quickly untied a powerful 500 horsepower inboard and the two of them cast off. The motor roared into life and in moments they were on their way to the mainland and the jungles of Platanos y Cocos.

A short time later, when the sun was just a few degrees higher, the pair had traversed the choppy ocean water and landed on the beach. Though a little rattled, Sara gamely disembarked from the boat and followed Murdley as he headed for the jungle.

[Granddog and Enilorac]

_____________________

After what seemed an eternity, Sara commented to Murdley, "Doesn't it seem to you that we've been stuck here on the beach for an awfully long time? Nothing's happening! A little more action, please! Let's get the show on the road! Put it in gear! Step on the gas! Boogie on down the road! I'm dyin' here!"

"I was waiting for support," responded Murdley. "But it looks if we're going to have to go it alone. OK, let's move out."

The jungle was dark and steamy. Sara didn't realize how noisy it could be. There was the sound of frogs, or what she assumed to be frogs, and exotic birds. And, of course there was the drone of insects. "I hope we don't run into any snakes," she commented to her companion. "I really hate snakes."

Murdley paused, his machete raised for another strike at the vines that blocked their path. He turned toward Sara and said, "Did you know that the most dangerous animal in the jungle is not a poisonous snake or large constrictor. Nor is is an alligator or jaguar. Not even paranas or electric eels. It's the mosquito. They can carry malaria, yellow fever and other tropical diseases. More people die of malaria than all of the other hazards combined."

"Mosquitos? You mean like the bazillion or so that have been feasting on me since we entered the jungle? Well, rats with a capital R. Really big rats. Rats, rats, rats. I should have stayed at the resort. Or what's left of the resort."

"Buck up, old girl. It's only a few more miles. We should be at the Pyramid of Tloc-Moog in about four hours. If we're lucky we will have beaten the Khazakstani agents to the source of the radiation. Not only are the Khazakstanis a loathsome bunch of fashion disasters but they're bent on world domination. They are also ruthless. Some time ago they captured one of out best undercover operatives and, in an effort to extract sensitive information, subjected her to an unrelenting ninety-six hours of Brady Bunch reruns. By the time we rescued her her mind was jelly. She was in therapy for two years but she never recovered." Sara could see Murdley's jaw muscles tighten. "She was my fiancee. So you can see why I hate those bastards!"

Sara put her hand on Murdley's weedwhacker and said, "I have faith in you, J.B. Those scum are no match for us. Better for them if they don't show up."
[Le Chien]
_________________________

Filled with determination Sara continued to follow Murdley through the dark and steamy jungle. As they dodged snakes, jaguars and various other jungle fauna, Sara reflected on her situation. "Just days ago I was lounging on the beach, reading a horror novel and sipping Cosmotinis. Since then my vacation has been one interruption after another including a crazed sorority sister, a nefarious German doctor, an explosion, a mysterious stranger, radiation and delusional Khazakastani agents," Sara mused. She decided that the first thing she was going to do when she got home would be to give her travel agent a piece of her mind. As Sara thought about what she would say she felt Murdley wrap his arm around her waist. At first she enjoyed it but then she realized, as the embrace tightened, that it wasn't Murdley who had cozied up to her but a giant boa constrictor! Sara was beginning to find it hard to breathe. Sara's eyes began to close. Just as she was about to pass out, she felt the crushing embrace relax. When Sara opened her eyes, she saw Murdley standing there. "I thought I was a goner. What did you do to the snake?" Sara asked. Murdley grinned. "I beat him to death with my geigercounter."

Murdley helped Sara up, brushed her off and started forward only to stop a few steps later. "Look," Murdley said as he pointed. "It's the Pyramid of Tloc-Moog!" Murdley and Sara made their way closer to the pyramid taking care to be as quiet as possible so as to not attract the attention of any Khazakastanis who might be lurking in the shadows.

As they approached the clearing that surrounded the pyramid, Sara tapped Murdley on the shoulder and said, "Since you used your radiation detecting device to beat the snake to death, how will be know if this pyramid really is the source of the radiation?" Murdley turned to look at Sara. "No problem. We just look for a greenish glow. The CIA likes to look official by handing out the latest technological gadgets but we ultimately rely on what we have learned from years of watching movies."

Sure enough a faint greenish glow was emanating from the mouth of the pyramid. Murdley and Sara looked around and then cautiously approached the pyramid. Once they were close enough Sara saw some type of inscription on the wall. "What does it say?" she asked. Murdley, an expert on the language of the Tloc-Moog civilization, peered at the writing. "Well," he replied, "in a nutshell it says that whoever is able to breach the pyramid, obtain the mysterious green stuff, to use a technical term, and survive will be the one to rule the world."

[Caroline]

_____________________

Murdley tossed his weed whacker-radiation detector aside. "We can see the glow of the mysterious radiation, yet my detector hasn't uttered a peep. Either I broke it when I bludgeoned the boa constrictor, or Hans Geiger (that Nazi fink) and Ernest Rutherford's invention doesn't detect this kind of emanation. Our team of scientific experts believe that the energy we seek is unlike terrestrial radiation, but rather is the product of the decay of an alien element called klarnfarnium."

Sara looked at Murdley with rapt attention. When he finished speaking, she asked, "How do your scientists know about klarnfarnium if it's an alien element.?" Murdley responded by explaining that it had been detected through the spectrographic analysis of light from distant galaxies and that it had been named for the leader of the investigative team, Dr. Karl Klarnfarn. Sara frowned in concentration, then said, "Who'd a thought?"

Slowly the intrepid investigators inched forward, taking care not to betray their position to any unseen observers. They hadn't gone far when Sara heard Murdley say, "Oops!" No sooner had she responded, "What do you mean, 'oops'?" than she realized that he was no longer beside her. In a moment of panic, she leapt to her feet only to feel the ground give way beneath her. In an instant she tumbled into a deep hole.

Sara lay still for a moment to regain her breath. As her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom she realized that Murdley had suffered the same fate. He sat beside her, shaking his head to clear the metaphorical cobwebs in his head and the actual cobwebs around his face. "Where are we?" asked Sara in a shaky voice.

Murdley looked around. "I think we're in a tunnel that leads into the bowels of the earth beneath the pyramid."

Sara wasn't sure she liked the idea of being in the bowels of anything, but nonetheless she followed as Murdley crept further into the depths of the tunnel. It was an arduous trek, and soon Sara had to pause to regain her strength. After alerting her companion to her need to stop for a few moments she leaned up against the side of the tunnel. When she did so, she felt something soft and dry. She could feel a scream forcing its way up through her throat as she realized that it was a mummy of some long dead Mayan warrior, still clad in decaying ceremonial dress. A spear had skewered the unfortunate Indian and pinned him to the earthen wall. Sara stifled her scream as Murdley brought his flashlight to bear. "Look!" she said, still trembling. "What is that reflective object in the mummy's hand? It looks like glass!"

J.B. reached out and wrested the object from the dessicated warrior. "It's not glass," he answered. "It's crystal. I'm not sure what it is... it has a certain anatomical look to it. Perhaps it is related somehow to the ancient crystal skulls we've read about."

Sara peered at the object. "You know, I took a couple of anatomy classes when I thought I might go to medical school. Now that I can see it clearly, I can tell you that it's a crystal coccyx."

Murdley pondered for a moment, then had a flash of insight. "This reinforces the CIA's theory that we are dealing with extraterrestrials. That's not just a crystal coccyx! It's a prosthetic device! Imagine what condition alien tailbones would have been in after light years of travel in a seated position! It must have been agony! But do a quick tailbone-ectomy and implant one of these puppies and they'd be good to go for the duration!" Excited by his discovery, he pumped his fist into the air a couple of times.

Sara was astounded by Murdley's perspicacity, but before she could say anything to him she heard a strange sound. Was there someone, or something, in the tunnel with them?

[der Hund]

_________________

Sara and Murdley turned at the sound of footsteps. A shadow proceeded toward them until they could see the source. Both gasped at the same time. It was none other than Pittnacher! He was looking a little worse for the wear but still alive. How could this be?

Pittnacher stepped toward them. In one hand was a tiki torch and the other was a Glock aimed at Sara and Murdley.

"You," Sara exclaimed. "How did you survive the explosion?"

Murdley reached for his kick-ass Austrian Glock just to realize that the Glock in Pittnacher's hand must be his. He must have dropped it when he fell through the hole.

Pittnacher smiled, albeit not a warm a fuzzy smile. "I had the good fortune to be standing in just the right place when the explosion occurred. I was propelled out of the meat locker and landed in a banana tree outside of the resort. I quickly ate my fill of fresh bananas, shimmied down the tree and then tracked you to this pyramid. I have been on to Mudley Do-Right here from the beginning. The crystal coccyx is the key to locating the source of the extra-terrestial klarnfarnium. I, too, can read Tloc-Moogian. I have spent my life searching for the source of this radiation, having heard the lore of its powers. Now, it is within my reach. Hand over the coccyx!"

Sara looked befuddled. "Excuse me," she said. "I am confused. What about the Khazakstanis? Aren't they hell-bent on world domination? Aren't you a little worried they are around her somewhere and gunning for you?"

Pittnacher looked briefly concerned but then resumed his confident and annoying Glock-toting stance. "Bring them on," he said. "I have spent years learning to rule the mind through radiation. It will be a piece of cake to rule the minds of these fashion disasters and they will become my army by which I will dominate the world. The first thing I will do is send them to capture Stacey and Clinton. They are encouraging people to dress confidently and, dare I say it, even think better or themselves. Enough is enough!"

While Sara stood looking at her outfit and wondering if she was exuding confidence (after all she loved WNTW), Murdley shook his head. This was getting sillier than a Indiana Jones movie. The good guys vs. the bad guys and a bunch of goofy stuff thrown in. Don't the bad guys know that they don't get to win? Maybe Pittnacher didn't get the memo.

Suddenly, Murdley smiled and said, "Here, catch!"

Reflexively, Pittnacher reached up as if he was in the outfield catching a fly ball. Unfortunately for Pittnacher, he didn't stop to ask what he was catching. His single-minded determination to finally access the source of the extra-terrestrial radiation distracted him from his faulty presumption that it was the coccyx that Murdley was throwing to him.

[SunnyCA]

_________________________

Pittnacher made the catch only to realize that the object wasn't the crystal coccyx but instead was a large, hairy spider that Murdley had snatched from the ruins of the mummy's face. "Argh!" cried Pittnacher in surprise and fear. He gave his hand a violent shake but the spider, agitated by the motion, sank its fangs into his hand and held on as tightly as a giant tick. In his panic, the deranged, rogue psychiatrist, bartender, exorcist and burger flipper lowered his hand, placed the muzzle of the pistol against the spider and pulled the trigger. There was a loud report and an equally loud shriek as a stab of pain told Pittnacher that he had not only shot the spider but had also blown a hole in his own hand. "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!" he wailed as he hopped up and down.

In the confusion of the moment, no-one had noticed a new presence in the tunnel. "Drop your weapon!" a commanding voice said to Pittnacher. "All of you! On the ground!" A tall man with graying temples and a military manner waived a compact automatic weapon at them. "Natasha!" he went on nodding his head at his companion, a stunningly beautiful but cruel-looking woman, "tie them up."

"Da, Boris," she answered curtly. She reached into her utility belt and extracted a number of thick, long cable ties. As she set about securing the prisoners, Sara remembered seeing the names Boris and Natasha in Candi's cell phone. She had no doubt that these were the Khazakstani agents who were determined to recover the source of the green radiation for their own reprehensible intentions, but why did Candi have their names?

"I have to know," Sara blurted out. "My friend, well, former friend, really, Candi... did you know her?"

"We recruited her to keep an eye on the CIA 's man," Natasha replied, nodding at Murdley. "A mistake. She was very unstable. No matter. She's as dead as you will be as soon as we extract whatever useful information you may have."

The Khazakstanis turned away from Sara, Murdley and Pittnacher and began to remove instruments of torture from their knapsacks. Wires and a hand-cranked generator. A battery-operated dentist's drill. Pliers. A vial of acid. A plumber's helper. A week-old Dunkin' Donut. "Now we begin," hissed Boris.

"Er, I think you spoke too soon," interjected Murdley, looking past his Slavic nemesis. He felt his blood run cold. A silent shape had appeared in the tunnel behind the two Khazakstanis. A shape that was not human. Alien in form, yet somehow evocative of the Darth Vader character of the Star Wars films.

"Darth Vader!" whispered Sara. "Candi said 'Darth Vader' when she called me from the meat locker! Somehow, she must have seen something! Could there have been an alien or aliens on the island? Perhaps they come out at night to suck the blood of innocent victims! Perhaps that's what made Candi mad!" She could feel herself boggle at the very thought.

Responding to Sara's stare Boris and Natasha turned to see what was behind them. Their jaws dropped in horror as......

[Dawg]

_________________
The Darth Vader-like alien form approached and suddenly began to glow an eerie green. And, almost predictably, it began to emit heaving breathing noises. With each step it took, everyone in the room stepped backward (or hopped in the case of Murdley, Sara and Pittnacher who were bound hand and foot with the cable ties) until backed against the wall.

Suddenly, the room filled with music and everyone looked quizzically around. The music grew louder and they could see the alien form tapping its foot to the beat of Michael Jackson's "Thriller". Even more surprising, when its arm shot up in the air they noticed it was wearing a purple sparkly glove. And then the alien began to dance and sing....


It’s close to midnight and something evil’s lurking in the dark
Under the moonlight you see a sight that almost stops your heart
You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it
You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes,
You’re paralyzed

’cause this is thriller, thriller night
And no one’s gonna save you from the beast about strike
You know it’s thriller, thriller night
You’re fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight...

The alien knew every dance step and word to the very popular 80s hit! Clearly the alien's approach was "shock and awe" since its audience stood paralyzed with perplexity.

Once the alien saw that it had its audience's attention, it began to speak in perfect English! "Wasn't that cool?" it said. "I have been waiting for years to perform for a live audience. The spiders and snakes don't offer much in the way of feedback."

Murdley found his voice and said, "Aren't aliens supposed to speak languages we mere humans don't understand?"

The alien laughed. "Normally, this is true. I was one bored alien waiting all these years to return home, but a few years ago I pirated an internet connection from Starbucks (there is one right here in Platanos y Cocos) and wired it to my ship's computer. I have been watching American TV, MTV is my favorite, non-stop 24 hours a day. So I have learned your ways and language. Now, enough Mr. Niceguy. I want my crystal coccyx. To you humans, it means power and control. To me, it means a comfortable ride home."

Boris lunged forward brandishing the Glock at the alien and shouting, "The coccyx is mine and I will rule the world!" With that, the alien reached out its other arm and zapped Boris with a current of green radiation and Boris was incinerated. Natasha lunged forward screaming at the alien and she, too, bought the farm. Pittnacher was a little more cagey, thinking he could negotiate, even though he was only holding what was left of his hand and not the coccyx (and still bound by cable ties).

"Darth, can I call you Darth, how about we strike a deal. I have done many experiments with radiation and I think that you and I together could change planet earth as we know it." With that, the alien zapped Pittnacher as well.

Sara and Murdley looked at each other. They knew what they had to do and that it was the right thing and hopefully it would save their lives. "The coccyx belongs to you and should be returned to you." With that, the cable ties fell off of Murdley and Sara. Murdley reached out his hand and laid the coccyx in the purple sparkly gloved hand of the alien.

The alien saluted the couple and turned to walk back down the tunnel. Suddenly the place started to rumble with the force of a great earthquake and Sara and Murdley ran for cover. Moments later when it was quiet, they looked up to see blue sky above them. Where was the pyramid? In the distance they could see an odd pyramid-shaped craft flying at great speed. Could it be the pyramid was the alien's ship hidden in plain sight all these years?

Sara and Murdley looked at each other in wonder and then Sara said, "So which one of us is going to write the book? This will surely be a best-seller!"
THE END
[Margaret]