Let the Music Play - 23. Wake Up Call

Dimitri slammed the punctured tire down on the pavement, cursing his luck. The blowout had taken him unawares, nearly sending him crashing into a tree. Worse, he suspected the wheel nuts had been put on with an air-wrench, and he’d only managed to break them free after smashing the tire iron with a rock. He’d thought he’d left himself ample time for the drive, but now he knew, he was behind schedule and still had a long way to go, and the golden light of dawn to the east was a most unwelcome sight.

* * *

Thanks to jet lag, the members of Instinct had a very early dinner and ended their first day in the great down-under by being asleep when the sun dipped below the lush green hills. However, before she went to sleep, Helen, thinking of the child Jerry had said was to be the recipient of the scooter, made a purchase at the resort’s gift shop.

The next morning, Helen found Eric waiting impatiently outside, hobbling up and down the path near her door. He looked up with a grin when he heard her and said, “I’m ready to go. I want this cast off!”

“You’ll have to wait just a little longer. Judy is driving us into the Noosa area, to the Noosa Village Shopping Centre, which has a doctor’s office where you have an appointment in two hours. First things first though, what about some breakfast?”

Eric’s face lit up at the mention of food, and as long as he had to wait anyway, eating sounded good. Together, they made their way towards the resort’s restaurant. En route, Helen spotted a familiar figure pacing near the resort’s main office. “Jerry,” she called, “you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Come on and join us.”

Forcing a smile onto his face, Jerry agreed, and followed them into the restaurant, just a few paces away. Taking seats out on the terrace, they ordered their food, and Helen got right to the point, as usual. “Jerry, do you really have to leave today?”

With a solemn nod, Jerry replied, “Yes, I am afraid I must, my dear. The child I mentioned must have that scooter. I also have other needy children to attend to, and it must be today. It is unfortunate that the timing is such as it is, otherwise I would have loved to have stayed a few days.”

“Well, Jerry,” Helen said with a smile, “Then you must come back, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. We’ll be here for several days, and we do have room for you. Also, I must ask about the child who is getting the scooter. He must be at least near his teens in order to be large enough to use it, so I wanted to do something special for him. I’ll have the boys autograph his scooter, and I’ll arrange for front-row seats for him at whichever of our concerts is nearest for him. What’s the boy’s name?”

Caught unawares, Jerry stiffened, pausing while he thought up a name, and then gave her the first name that came to mind. “His name is Vlad. I’m sure he would appreciate the autographs very much, and I will convey the invitation, though his deteriorating health might make that impossible.”

Helen smiled. “It’s settled then. We’ll expect to see you back here in a day or two.”

Responding to an under-the-table kick on his cast-encased shin from Helen, Eric added, “Yeah, please do come back, and please let us know if there’s anything we can do for Vlad. I’m sorry about chasing you into the pool, too.”

Helen stifled a wince brought on by the pain; she was wearing open-toed shoes and reminded herself to kick Eric’s good leg next time.

With a grateful nod, Jerry replied, “Why thank you, dear boy. I’ll see if anything comes to mind. My business associate should be here soon, so we do need to get the scooter ready. I do hope that you have a wonderful time here. It’s a fabulous country, and I am certain you will all be very well received here.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of breakfast, omelets accompanied by fresh fruit compote. Eric was hungry, but food wasn’t the first thing on his mind: Jerry was. He still had his suspicions, and he felt that Jerry was hiding something. The rest of the meal passed with idle chit-chat, and Eric felt that Jerry was uneasy about something because his replies were always preceded by a pause.

After breakfast, Helen led Eric and Jerry back to the cottages. While Jerry stepped aside to make a phone call, Helen rapped on Brandon and Chase’s door. Somewhat surprised to find them awake and already dressed in boardies and flip-flops, she told them about the scooter-signing, and then detailed them to wake up Jon, which was never an easy task.

* * *

Dimitri, passing through the Noosa area in the Land Rover, answered his buzzing cell phone. Quickly he relayed the reason for his delayed arrival, and that he expected to be at the resort within the hour. He then listened carefully as The Scar said on the other end of the line. “There has been a change in plans. When you arrive, there should be no need to take the item by force. Just play along, but remember, these people know me as ‘Jerry’. I’ll introduce you as a business associate, and we are taking the item to a young, terminally ill boy.”

After the call ended, Dimitri shrugged to himself. His employer, he thought, must have his reasons. Dimitri knew from his KGB experiences that complications such as this were a big risk to an operation. However, he considered, so too would be stirring up the local authorities via a pile of corpses, which was what he’d originally been planning to create.

* * *

Approaching Jon and Eric’s cottage, Chase suddenly stopped and flashed an evil grin at Brandon. “Dude, you know how hard it is to wake up Jon. So, let me show you the easy way. First, we need some ice.” Chase turned on his heel and padded off towards the resort’s restaurant, with Brandon following along behind.

Brandon lingered by the door of the restaurant, uneasy about going inside shirtless, but Chase had no such qualms. Within moments, he was back with a bucket of ice and a devilish grin on his face. “Let’s go wake up my brother.”

Entering Jon and Eric’s cottage, Chase walked into Jon’s room, motioning for Brandon to follow. Finding Jon sprawled out, half covered by a sheet, Chase pointed at the opposite side of the bed, which was opposite the door, and Brandon, slightly puzzled, walked over and stood where Chase had directed. He mouthed a question at Chase, which Chase pretended not to understand.

With one fast motion, Chase pulled up the sheet and poured the bucket of ice and frigid water onto his naked brother. Chase then tossed the empty bucket at Brandon. As soon as he saw Brandon catch the bucket, and hearing Jon’s startled gasp, Chase bolted from the room, slamming the door behind him and grabbing the handle from the other side to prevent it from being opened.

Shocked out of his deep sleep by the ice, Jon thrashed around before leaping from the bed, shivering, and cursing up a storm. His foggy vision cleared and he saw Brandon, standing by his bed with an empty ice bucket. Between chattering teeth, Jon growled, “You are so dead, bro.”

Finally understanding that his boyfriend had set him up, Brandon backpedaled. “It wasn’t me, really.”

Jon, naked and dripping, crossed his arms and said, “Yeah, right. You just happen to be standing by my bed with an empty ice bucket after I wake up covered in ice.” Jon didn’t much care about his lack of clothes; he was much more interested in revenge.

Not knowing what else to do, Brandon nodded, “Yeah, but I didn’t do it, – Chase did, then tossed me the bucket and ran out of the room.”

Grabbing a pair of boardies from a drawer, Jon pulled them on, hearing stifled laughter from the other room. Shaking his still foggy head, he said, “I can hear him out there. Okay, maybe you’re on the level, but you just happened to be standing by my bed, so you were in on it somehow.” Jon moved fast, snatching up a handful of ice from the bed.

Rushing at Brandon, he jabbed for Brandon’s ribs with his free hand, causing Brandon to try and twist away, just as Jon had planned. Brandon yelped in shock as Jon’s other hand thrust the ice into the front of Brandon’s shorts, and the ice cubes came to rest in a very sensitive area. Brandon jumped back, dropping the bucket which hit the tile floor with a clatter as he jumped around, shaking the ice out of his shorts. Jon and Brandon both began to laugh, and Jon said, “You deserved that, dude, but now what about Chase?”

Brandon nodded, and by now, he was the closest to the door. He tried the handle, and found that it wouldn’t budge. He could still hear snickering from the other side.

Jon put his finger to his lips, indicating that Brandon needed to keep quiet. Jon then pointed at his bedroom’s window, and made a few motions with his hands to indicate his plan. Brandon caught on and nodded. Speaking towards the door while rattling the handle, Brandon said, “I’m going to get you for this, Chase. Come on, let us out of here.” Glancing back as Jon eased himself out of the window, Brandon paused before saying to the now-empty room, “He’s got the door handle blocked somehow, maybe we can force it.” Brandon gave the handle a hard twist, but not as hard as he was capable of. As he did so, he said through the door, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to prank your boyfriend?”

Chase, concentrating on the door handle, and not noticing Jon creeping into the room behind him, replied with a laugh, “Brand, I just wanted you to have a ringside seat to waking up Jon, he’s –” Brandon heard Chase’s words end, interrupted by the sounds of a scuffle. Finding the door handle no longer blocked, he opened, it, stepping into the living room to find Jon and Chase rolling around on the floor, with Jon gaining the upper hand. Chase laughed, gasping out, “Brand, help me...”

“I think I’ll help Jon instead,” Brandon replied, jumping into the fray. Brandon soon found himself reduced to a laughing ball as Chase’s fingers found his ribs. Jon took advantage of his brother’s divided attention and pinned him to the floor. Together, Jon and Brandon heaved a squirming Chase onto Brandon’s shoulder. Jon met Brandon’s eye and asked, “Think we can find a mud hole around here?”

Heading for the door, Brandon replied, “We can try,” oblivious to Chase’s halfhearted attempts to pound on his back. Chase’s hands sought out Brandon’s ribs again, but Jon, close behind, swatted them away. Heading out the door, Brandon told Jon with a chuckle, “I’m ticklish and he’s not. That gives the rat one hell of an advantage.”

Their quest for a mud hole proved to be short-lived, because they encountered Helen, Eric, and Jerry just outside the door, standing with the scooter outside Helen’s cottage. Helen arched an eyebrow in Brandon’s direction and asked, “What are you doing? No, never mind, I don’t want to know. Do you think you can calm down long enough to sign an autograph? Jerry is in a hurry.”

Setting Chase back on his feet and reluctantly deciding to leave their revenge until later, Brandon then stepped forward and signed the scooter, right below where Eric had written, “To Vlad, best wishes from Instinct,” and then signed his name. Jon and Chase followed suit, their humorous mood dampened by the thought of a terminally ill boy.

Helen watched the signings, and then told Jerry, “There’s something else I need to ask; does Vlad like kangaroos?”

Appreciating the deep irony of the situation, Jerry smiled and nodded. Helen walked into her cottage, and re-emerged with the purchase she’d made that morning; a one foot tall stuffed kangaroo. The kangaroo was in a seated position, much like a teddy bear, and came complete with a pouch. Helen handed the stuffed animal to Jerry, who beamed, replying sincerely, “Thank you, dear lady. Vlad will truly love this.”

Everyone turned at the sound of crunching gravel, as Dimitri drove the very dusty Land Rover toward the cottages. He came to a stop beside the assembled group and clambered out. Jerry turned to say to Helen, “I really must be off, we are running late. Please forgive our haste, my dear, there isn’t even time for introductions.”

Jerry rushed over to the scooter while Dimitri swung the Rover’s cargo door open. Together, the two of them, and Jon, who had rushed forward to help, heaved the scooter into the back of the Land Rover, setting it on its wheels with the brake on. Jon began to slam the door when Dimitri noticed that one of the scooter’s handles would be hit, which prompted Dimitri to say, “Wait! It will not fit that way,” in his thick Russian accent. With the scooter safely in place, Dimitri slammed the door and with a friendly nod at Instinct and Helen, climbed back into the driver’s seat.

Helen handed the stuffed kangaroo to Jerry as he got in on the passenger side. “If there’s anything we can do, please don’t hesitate to let us know. We’ll be expecting you back here in a few days, and don’t you dare say no.”

With a gracious nod, Jerry signaled his agreement, and snapped on his seat belt. Dimitri wasted no time, and turned the Land Rover around.

Neither man said a word as they passed through the main gate, for security was foremost on their minds. Two miles down the road, Dimitri pulled over and climbed out. Both men turned off their cell phones, and then Dimitri retrieved a black box not much larger than a wallet from his pocket. He clicked the device on, paying careful attention to the meter on its face. First, he opened the back of the Land Rover and swept the detector over the scooter. Once fully satisfied, he opened the passenger-side door and ran the device over The Scar and the stuffed animal on his lap. Taking a good look at the kangaroo, Dimitri arched an eyebrow at The Scar, receiving a slight smile and a shrug in reply. For good measure, he ran the device over the remainder of the passenger compartment. In all, the procedure took less then two minutes to complete. By the time he was done, The Scar had removed his toupee.

With a smile, Dimitri returned the device to his pocket and got back into the driver’s seat. Looking over at his employer as he pulled back onto the road, Dimitri said, “All clear. It is good to see you again, Vozhd,” Dimitri said, using the Russian word for ‘boss’. “I am relieved that we were able to extract the scooter so easily. I had been expecting some wet work,” he added, using a term that in espionage circles meant killing.

Discarding his character of Jerry, The Scar relaxed a little. “It is good to see you again too, Dimitri. Things went well in that regard. I’m glad that bloodshed was not required; the last thing we need is to stir up the Australian police. How are things progressing?”

Dimitri turned onto the main road before answering, “Very well. We are into final assembly, and Vladimir is ahead of schedule.” His curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, “I saw the name ‘Vlad’ on the scooter, and I see that you have a stuffed kangaroo. What happened?”

The Scar sighed. “I had to stay in character. I’ve been masquerading as a gay man to keep their confidence and business. Also, the reason I have insinuated myself with those people is a simple case of motive and opportunity; their equipment is our means for smuggling the nuclear devices. I told them the scooter was for a terminal child by the name of Vlad so they autographed the scooter and gave me this kangaroo for him.”

Both men shared a deep love of irony, and had a much-needed laugh. Dimitri, after he brought his laughter under control, said, “You must give the kangaroo to Vladimir. He will adore it.”

Both men fell silent, lost in their thoughts as they began the long drive to Toowoomba, where Dimitri had deposited the engineer and his assistant in anticipation of receiving the Kryton switches. The Scar’s thoughts turned to less pleasant aspects as they passed Noosa. He remembered telling Dimitri that his son had been a member of the group, and now Dimitri knew the name of the group. He’d never shared his real name or identity with Dimitri, and he knew that the Russian was more than sharp enough to realize what he’d done. The odd thing, he felt, was that Dimitri hadn’t mentioned it.

Deciding that he had no recourse but to trust Dimitri fully, and after reflecting that Dimitri had been loyal to him in every way for years, The Scar said, “When I called you, I mentioned that my son was once a member of that group. I’m curious as to why you didn’t say anything about that? It’s an obvious route to my real name.”

Dimitri took several seconds to think over his answer, finally deciding to be honest. “I knew that you would know that, but I have never asked you about things I do not need to know and saw no reason to start now.”

The Scar chuckled. “Dimitri, I’ve known you for years. I suppose it can’t hurt that you could find out who I am. We are both, you and I, committed to our present endeavor, and should we be uncovered too soon our real names are the least of our concern. In any case, such will be an issue only until the weapons are in place, then only their location needs to remain secret. Their existence will protect us far better than any secrecy, and the only necessity will be eliminating those who could discern our shipping method and might thus deduce the weapons’ locations. As for my son, he and I have not spoken in a long time. I have no reason to care; he’s a drug addict, worthless and weak, though he did unknowingly serve to give me the shipping contract for that band. Access to a means for shipping black-market military spare parts was why I pressured the other boys’ father into having him for a singer in the first place; it gave me a way in. Then, when the opportunity arose to build the nuclear devices, it was an ideal fit.”

Never taking his eyes from the road, Dimitri nodded. “To me, you will always be Vozhd, as you have always been. So, you mentioned eliminating any who know of our delivery method. I assume you wish me to ensure the silence of that group back there once we are done? Or would you prefer to take care of them personally, after what they have put you through?”

Shaking his head, The Scar replied, “All things considered, they are actually fairly nice people, though a little naive in some of the ways of the world, and they have given generously to our project by way of my charity charade, though their funds have been minuscule compared to our costs. Though, come to think of it, I would quite enjoy personally killing the young hellion who had this scooter. However, business is business and they will all need to die. The problem is timing; we plan on having our demonstration of capability immediately after the final bomb is in place. I will need you by my side for that and what follows, but I also want that lot dead before news of the explosion is known; otherwise, they might figure out that they could have been the route the bombs took from here to America. It is a small chance, but not one worth taking. Seeing as even you can’t be in two places at once, I’ve retained the contract killer who arranged for the Kryton switches to do the job in consultation with you. As long as it looks like an accident, that’s all we’ll need.”

Together, the two cheerful men continued their drive south along the Bruce Highway as their conversation faded to silence, both men feeling relaxed and comfortable in the company of the other.

* * *

Eric bounded into the resort’s mini-bus as soon as Judy pulled up outside the cottages, his eagerness to get his cast off apparent to all. Helen opened the door to climb into the front passenger seat, or so she thought. Finding Judy, the resort’s owner, already seated there, grinning at her from behind the steering wheel, Helen blushed slightly as she trotted around to the left-front side, where the front passenger seat was actually located. Climbing in, she said, “I guess I’m not used to these right-hand-drive vehicles yet.

Helen was indeed slightly distracted by her concerns as to whether Eric’s ankle had fully healed, and she hoped that the doctor would judge that it was time to take off the cast. Günter climbed in the back with Eric, and Judy pulled away at a pace far too sedate for Eric’s tastes.

Brandon and Jon watched them pull away, and then Jon turned to Brandon with a smile and said, “Chase pulled a vanishing act. He’s hiding around here somewhere, let’s go find him.” With a shared chuckle, the two band mates set off in search of their quarry. They walked towards the beach, and Jon added, “I guess you know by now that Chase is a lot like Eric in some ways; they both love practical jokes.”

“You might have warned me when I joined the band,” Brandon replied with a laugh. “He’s gotten me a couple of times before today. What should we do when we catch him?”

Jon thought for a while before replying, “We could strip him naked and leave him to make his own way back to the cottages, but he’s not shy, he wouldn’t care. Hell, he’d probably like it and strut through the resort. I think tossing him in some mud is still our best bet.”

With a shake of his head, Brandon turned towards the bar. “Nah, I think this calls for a drink. I’m thinking chocolate milk, with a sand chaser.”

It took a few seconds, but Jon, aided by Brandon’s wicked grin, caught on. “Dude, that’s evil. I love it! I just hope they have that here.”

They were in luck; the bar did have some cartons of chocolate milk in the refrigerator. Armed with a small carton each, Brandon and Jon resumed their trek to the beach. As they approached the sand, they paused in the tree line, looking up and down the beach, but seeing no sign of Chase. They weren’t sure he had gone in that direction until a few yards further on when Jon said in a low voice, “I see footprints along the water line. I’ll bet they’re Chase’s. Don’t look, but about a hundred yards ahead the prints go back up into a thicket of trees. I’ll bet he’s hiding in there, laughing his ass off at us. Let’s just walk down the beach, and when I give the signal, dash for the trees.”

Walking along the surf line, the two band mates enjoyed the Australian sun as Brandon replied, “Sounds like a plan. But if I catch him, get there fast because he’ll just tickle me and get away.”

Jon laughed, giving Brandon a light punch in the shoulder. “He does that to you a lot, doesn’t he? I bet you wish Chase was ticklish too,” Jon said with sly smile before adding, “There’s something he made Eric and me promise not to tell you. Just watch and learn bro, watch and learn.”

With a grin, Brandon nodded as they continued their walk up the beach. A dozen yards later, they reached the place where the footprints they were following turned sharply towards the trees, and the space between them increased, indicating that the person who made them had begun to run. Jon whispered, “Now,” and the two turned for the trees at a sprint, running hard across the sand.

Nearing the thick copse of trees at the edge of the sand, Brandon spotted a patch of tan and blond to his left. “There he is,” he yelled, angling towards what he’d seen, feeling the leaves of the trees brushing against his bare chest and sides as he dashed through the thickening growth.

Chase bolted from his hiding place, dashing towards the beach at an angle away from his pursuers, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. Jon cut the corner and dove, grabbing one of Chase’s ankles with one hand while clutching the chocolate milk in the other. Chase tried to crawl away as Brandon came running up, but Jon wouldn’t let go.

Heaving his fleeing, laughing brother back by his captive ankle, Jon dropped the chocolate milk and used his free hand to tickle the bottom of Chase’s foot. Chase curled into a ball, laughing uncontrollably until Jon stopped. Chase caught his breath and looked up at his boyfriend’s evil grin. “Uh oh,” Chase said, as he realized what Brandon had seen and what he now knew.

Diving onto the sand, Brandon repeated Jon’s actions on the struggling Chase, causing him to curl up and laugh, gasping out a few pleas for mercy. Brandon stopped only long enough to say, “Chase, you must be thirsty. Jon and I have brought you some chocolate milk.”

It didn’t take Chase more than a single second to realize that they didn’t intend for him to drink the milk. He tried to scrabble back, but Jon had his leg firmly pinned. Giving Brandon his best pouting look, Chase said, “Brand, come on, I was only trying to show you how to wake Jon up.”

With one final flick at the pad of Chase’s foot, Brandon crawled forward, pushing his boyfriend down onto the sand. “Sure Chase, sure, and I’m just going to give you some nice chocolate milk,” Brandon said with an innocent smile.

Together, Jon and Brandon opened the cartons of chocolate milk, and then began pouring it over their squirming captive’s head and chest. Brandon saved a little and made sure to pour it on the front of Chase’s shorts. Chase stopped squirming as he was drenched in the cold, sticky liquid, and Jon backpedaled away, tossing a handful of sand on his brother’s chest. Brandon jumped back as well, leaving Chase laying on the beach, grumbling, “Thanks for the milk, guys.”

Chase scrambled to his feet, running first towards Brandon and then at Jon, but finding them too fast to snare in a sticky hug. “Paybacks are a bitch, little bro,” chuckled Jon as he raced to keep out of Chase’s grasp.

Turning towards the surf and breaking into a jog, Chase called back, “Yeah, and I’ll get you guys for this, count on it.”

Running into the warm azure water, Chase dove into an incoming beach breaker, surfacing a few seconds later, and then ducking his head under water as he tried to work the last of the chocolate milk out of his hair. He finally finished to his satisfaction, throwing his hair back with a sweep of his head, sending an arc of water droplets arching skywards, glittering in the sun. He had about a two-second respite, before Jon and Brandon surfaced on either side of him, their prelude to launching a water-fight.

An hour later, after several water fights and a lot of riotous laugher, the three band-mates stretched out on the sand, soaking up a little more of the brilliant morning sun, happy and content.

* * *

At the small clinic in the Noosa area, Eric, still limping slightly and dressed in a baseball cap, sunglasses, a tank top, and boardies, stepped out into the sunny parking lot with his cast in hand. Helen, Judy, and Günter came out behind him as he spun in circles in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. On the way to the mini-bus, Helen told Eric, “The doc said you should walk on sand and keep exercising before you try running, but other than that, you’re fine. Actually, there is one thing that’s wrong,” Helen paused for effect, as Eric ceased his spinning and looked at her with concern. Pointing at Eric’s legs below his boardies, she said, “You’ve gone pale where the cast was. We do have a photo shoot and a video next week, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to work on your tan a bit.”

Eric grinned. “Yeah, that’s going to be so hard to do here. Such hard work, too. I’m dreading it,” he said as he stretched out his arms and leaned back, facing up at the sun.

Günter glanced around the parking lot, keeping an eye out in case anyone recognized Eric. So far, he was happy to see, the coast was clear. With Eric bounding up to the door, they returned to the mini-bus for the ride back to the resort. Helen sat in the front passenger seat, with the plastic shopping bag containing her purchases on her lap. She patted the bag and said, “Eric, while you were with the doctor I went to the sporting goods store in the mall. Among a few other things, I bought two different kinds of sunscreen to help you even up your tan. Don’t worry if you don’t, though; we can always use makeup.” Helen bit back a smile as she delivered the last line. She knew how Eric felt about that.

“I’ll even it up, no makeup!” Eric replied, knowing full well that Helen was trying to tease him. He was just so happy to be free of his cast that he sat back and smiled, knowing that now his vacation could truly begin.

During the drive back to the resort, Helen chatted with Judy and mentioned Eric’s prank with the Cane Toad. Judy’s eyes opened a little wider as she glanced away from the road. “You do know those are highly poisonous, don’t you? They have poison glands in their skin. If I were you, I’d have everything in your suitcase washed, and the case itself dry-cleaned. If anyone had touched the toad, it could have made them quite ill,” Judy said, returning her attention to her driving.

Eric heard every word, and muttered “Uh-oh,” under his breath. He’d had no idea they were poisonous. He decided, then and there, to make sure that the next strange animal he put in one of Helen’s possessions wasn’t dangerous.

Her pulse quickening, Helen snarled, “Poisonous?” Turning around to face Eric, she yelled, “You better hope you can run really fast....”

* * *

Arriving at the Toowoomba facility, Dimitri and The Scar, both still in a jubilant mood, climbed out of the Land Rover as the engineer dashed out of the building to meet them. The engineer skipped any pleasantries and asked, “Do you have them? Do you have my Kryton switches?”

The Scar nodded. “Yes, Vladimir, indeed we do. Help us get them inside, will you?” Dimitri opened up the back of the Land Rover and grunted as he lifted the scooter down to the cement. “Where do you want it, Vladimir? Where you disassembled the first one?” Dimitri asked.

“No, no, not there. I have components on that workbench. Let’s take it to the room on the far side of the clean room. I have enough space to work unhindered there.”

Dimitri suppressed a groan as he replied, “I should have asked before getting it out. We could have driven it closer. Still, with three of us, it should not be too bad.”

The engineer scratched his head for a moment before asking, “Is it still operational? Why not just drive it? That’s what it is made for, after all.”

Displeased with himself for having overlooked something so obvious, Dimitri stepped aside as the engineer clambered onto the scooter, and drove it down the sidewalk towards the opposite end of the building. Turning to The Scar, he said with a sad shake of his head, “Now why didn’t I think of that?”

The Scar, reaching into the Land Rover to retrieve the stuffed Kangaroo, replied with a smile, “I just want to get it opened up and make sure the Krytons are intact. I was only able to get two more than we need, but if more than that are broken...”

“We shall find out soon enough, Vozhd,” Dimitri replied.

Upon arriving in the engineer’s designated workroom, they found him waiting impatiently, screwdriver at the ready. Dimitri and The Scar heaved the scooter up onto the workbench, laying it on its side to expose the access plate. They stood back while the engineer took off the access hatch and began the task of dismounting and removing the added large circuit board.

Ten minutes later, a beaming engineer was examining the board under a magnifying lens. “They all look intact. I will need to test them to be certain, but they appear to be in good condition.” The engineer had several small boxes, of a kind originally used for integrated circuits, open and ready. With deft care, he freed each of the switches from the circuit board before placing it in one of the protective boxes.

Once he was done, the engineer turned around with a satisfied smile and said, “Tomorrow we can begin the final assembly process. I estimate two weeks to complete all three nuclear devices, which will be well ahead of your deadline.” The engineer paused, and then pointed to the writing on the side of the scooter. “What is this? Why is it autographed to Vlad? Is that me?”

The Scar replied with a chuckle, “That is a long story, one best left for another time, but they send their well-wishes, and also sent this.” The Scar had been holding the stuffed kangaroo behind his back and brought it out to offer it to the engineer.

The engineer’s eyes lit up in delight as he accepted the stuffed animal. “This shall be my mascot.” He placed the animal on top of a cabinet so that it looked out into the room before saying in an offhand way, “We are going to the other compound tomorrow, are we not? The work that can be done there is nearly complete. What shall we do with the men who work there?”

Realizing that the engineers question might not be as offhand as it appeared, Dimitri chose his words with care. “We have another project for them. First, we want ten more bomb cases. They must be identical to the actual bombs in external appearance. They will need some internal shielding so that we can place a tiny scrap from the plutonium in some of them. Further, they will need some spherical metal components and some cabling; just enough to appear like a bomb on an x-ray. We will need them by the same deadline we have for the real bombs. After that, be creative, and give the men some other projects to do, to keep them busy until the evacuation date, at which point they, and you, will be paid in full.”

“Ah,” replied the engineer, pleased at his own deductive abilities, “We need decoy bombs, no? You wish to claim to have more bombs than we do. Very well, I will make them appear externally identical.” The engineer, always meticulous, began to replace the access hatch on the scooter, remarking in an offhand way, “I see that you managed to partially strip out two of the screws. You must learn to be more careful.”

The Scar’s good mood evaporated in an instant as he turned to Dimitri and said, loud enough for them all to hear, though in a voice quiet enough to drip menace, “Actually, I was extremely careful. I did not damage any screws. Someone else must have done so.”