Let the Music Play - 27. Carlisle Island

Feeling the warm kiss of the tropical sun on his bare torso, Brandon walked side-by-side with Chase through a sinuous maze of paved pathways that wound their way through the tropical foliage. The couple exchanged an occasional grin, enjoying each other’s company, comfortable in their lack of need for words.

After a walk of several hundred yards, they entered a square pavilion, bordered on one side by trees and on the other by a low, modern, flat-roofed building. Chase strode up to the cherry door and opened it, stepping aside with a smile to let Brandon enter first.

Brandon walked in the door, expecting something similar to the cottage they’d had at the Bunyip Beach Resort, but that image soon vanished when confronted by the startling reality of the room. The main themes were black granite and stainless steel, accompanied by cherry-wood trim and an occasional splash of gold. The room itself, two stories tall beneath a wooden ceiling, was lit to spectacular effect by the light streaming in from the double-story wall of glass that looked out upon a dazzling white sand beach and gleaming turquoise waters beyond. In the far distance, an unmoving line of surf denoted the edge of the island’s reef.

On one wall of the room, Brandon’s eyes fell upon an enormous round portal, actually a salt-water aquarium, complete with coral and brilliantly colored fish. The room itself was enormous, leaving Brandon feeling somewhat out of place. Glancing back towards the door, he watched Chase enter and said, “Whoa. This place is something; I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Chase threw an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Follow me,” he said with a chuckle, “Our room is upstairs. Helen, Barbra, and Günter have an identical suite about a hundred yards down the beach, so we’ll have this place for just you, Jon, Eric, and me. Their rooms are downstairs, but I snagged us the master suite.”

Leading Brandon up the curving, minimalist staircase, which consisted of just risers of stainless steel protruding from the laminated cherry wall, Chase opened up the double doors at the top, and again let Brandon enter first; following Brandon in, Chase snatched up the large remote control.

Brandon’s eyes opened wider yet, as he took in the enormous waterbed, cherry wood bar, leather furniture and glass tables, and then turned to stare out the picture windows at the spectacular view of the Coral Sea.

With a grin, Chase pressed a button on the remote, filling the room with the strains of ‘Beyond’, and as Brandon heard his own voice coming from the skillfully hidden speakers, Chase pressed another button.

Brandon took a single step back as a long, narrow plank in the hardwood floor at the foot of the wall disappeared downwards with a faint hydraulic hiss. Within seconds, a very large flat-panel TV began to rise from the opening. Thirty seconds later, with the TV in place and filling most of the wall, Chase began flipping through channels. “Still not very many channels, but they’ve got a huge selection of movies.”

Shaking his head in wonderment, Brandon said, “I’ve never seen anything like this place. Does that remote do anything else?”

Nodding, Chase pressed another button, and laughed as the bar opened up. He pressed a few more, changing the room’s lighting, and then a final one, which turned the huge picture windows instantly from clear to opaque grey, and then back again every time he hit the button. “The windows are some kind of liquid crystal; sure beats drapes and blinds, huh?”

Eyeing his gorgeous boyfriend, Brandon’s thoughts strayed from the new wonders around him to delights of a more personal nature. Running his eyes up Chase’s tan, chiseled torso and then taking in his disheveled blond hair, marveling at the way it fell so seductively across Chase’s forehead; Brandon cast a meaningful eye at the centerpiece of the room. Smiling seductively he said, “That waterbed looks great.”

Grinning and running his hands down his bare torso seductively, Chase moved towards the waterbed before pausing and saying with obvious regret, “Helen told me to get you into Speedos and bring you to the beach, so you can work on your tan for the photo shoot. She wants to hear about the interview, too.” In spite of what he’d just said, Chase reached out and pulled on Brandon’s arm, tugging him towards the waiting waterbed.

“Helen can wait,” Brandon murmured, “But heaven can’t,” as he pulled Chase onto the bed.

* * *

In Los Angeles, beneath an angry, smoggy sky, a large inner-city hospital buzzed with its usual hectic activity; the clatter of feet on linoleum, accompanied by the bleeping of medical equipment and static-y voices on the old intercom, and the thousand other sounds resounding off the faded paint and patina of its walls.

In a windowless ward, surrounded only by tattered curtains, a young man lay, bound to a hospital bed, with an IV in the back of his left hand. Gradually, sounds intruded on his troubled dreams, slowly replacing illusion with a new and even more surreal reality, as a foggy mind, with no eagerness, began to perceive its surroundings.

A nurse entered, met by a pair of barely focused, rheumy and confused eyes. After a cursory glance at the chart, she left without a word. Joe Clump, still unsure of what was real and what was not, couldn’t remember anything; not even his own name. He sought the comfort of sleep, trying in vain to shut out the cacophony of confusing noise, seeking an escape from the surreality in which he found himself living.

Half an hour later, a harried doctor checked the patient’s vitals, scrawling a few illegible lines on his clipboard as he noticed the half-open eyes tracking him. “You’re back with us,” the doctor said in his professional manner, “How are you feeling?”

Joe tried to speak, but found his throat raw. After the doctor gave him a few sips of water from a paper cup, the harshness was soothed enough for Joe to try again. "Where…” he tried to speak, his voice so gravely he momentarily failed to recognize it.

The doctor gave him a few more sips of water from the paper cup, and Joe was able to speak, though in a hoarse voice, “Where am I?”

The doctor replied with a question of his own. “What do you remember?”

Meeting the man’s eyes, barely able to stay focused, Lump replied, “I don’t know, I... I don’t remember anything.”

Nodding, the Doctor asked, “Let’s start at the beginning. What’s your name?” That was something the doctor did need to know; his patient was currently listed as ‘Unknown Male’ due to having been found with no identification.

The patient’s eyes darted around the room, as he searched for the answer to the question. A trace of fear crept into his voice as he truthfully growled out, “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything.”

* * *

Brandon, still wet from the shower, snatched the tossed swimsuit out of the air. Pulling the blue racing suit on, he watched as Chase tugged on a similar black pair of Speedos. “I never thought I’d have to run around almost naked to earn a living,” Brandon complained, though he smiled as he said the words.

Chase arched an eyebrow and finished getting dressed before he replied. “I don’t know, Brand – I’ve always thought you’d make a damn good hooker, if only you knew what you were doing in bed.”

Dashing out of the bathroom with Brandon close behind, Chase barreled down the stairs, barely managing to keep out of his boyfriend’s grasp. Tearing out through the already-open glass doors, Chase sprinted for the beach as Brandon closed the gap.

“I’ll get you for that, count on it,” Brandon said with a laugh, as they raced across the hot coral sands, Chase barely ahead, as the lone guest that they flew past looked on in amusement.

A hundred yards down the beach, they neared a small cove, set against the tranquil waters of the lagoon. Two jet-skis sat ready, resting in the sand at the waterline. Helen and Barbra sat under a giant beach umbrella, sipping piña coladas, and Helen waved in greeting and suppressed a smile. “How did the interview and flying go, Brandon? You took a lot longer than I thought,” she said, having seen the plane take off after returning Brandon to the island over an hour before, which gave her a darn good guess what Brandon and Chase had been doing in the bungalow.

“Everything went great, and I had a blast, but the reporter was a pilot herself, and figured out what we were up to...” Brandon replied, starting to tell Helen everything that had transpired as his slight blush confirmed Helen’s suspicions.

Nodding, Helen said, “I know, I spoke to her when you were on your way back. Speaking of which, I saw the plane when it dropped you off over an hour ago. What have you been doing since then?”

Squirming a little, Brandon replied with a noticeable lack of eye contact, “Just looking around. This place is fantastic.”

Setting her hook, Helen angled her head slightly and inquired sweetly, “Good, then you can tell me all about the resort, because I haven’t had chance to look around myself. What did you see first?”

Chase began to snicker at his boyfriend’s evident discomfort and growing blush, as Brandon gave up the pretense. “You already know what we were doing, huh?”

“Took you long enough to figure it out,” Helen replied with a laugh as Barbra grinned at the exchange.

Noticing Brandon’s eager glance at the jet-skis, Barbra entered the conversation for the first time. “Eric and Jon are out at the reef at the tip of the island, at least that’s where they said they were going. Just turn right as you leave the beach.”

Helen quickly added, “Put some sunscreen on, both of you. The video and photo shoots start tomorrow.” With an overhand toss, she sent a bottle sailing in Chase’s direction.

After helping each other with their backs, something they very much enjoyed, Brandon and Chase roared off on the jet-skis, racing down the coast, snaking across the tranquil lagoon, dodging the occasional coral outcroppings that dotted the expanses of white sand beneath the azure waters.

Chase spotted them first; two jet-skis beached on a stretch of sand near the resort’s central buildings. A little further down the beach, clusters of guests enjoyed the sun. Pulling their jet-skis up alongside Jon and Eric’s, Brandon and Chase walked up onto the beach, feeling the large, smooth grains of coral sand against their feet. Glancing down the beach at the guests in the distance, Chase said, “I’ll bet I know what Jon and Eric are doing; looking for girls. Want to go spoil their fun?”

Brandon replied with a laugh, “You’re evil, but that’s one of the things I like about you. I’m in.”

A dozen yards further up the beach, Brandon saw Jon and Eric standing under a palm tree, arguing. Jon broke off the conversation as Brandon and Chase jogged up, and Eric turned to Brandon and said with a smirk, “Howdy, fly-boy. I guess you didn’t crash and burn this time.”

Brandon laughed, giving Eric a friendly punch on his bare shoulder before replying, “This time? Shut up, I did fine. What were you guys arguing about?”

Eric shrugged, leaning back against the palm tree, hooking his arms behind his neck and stretching before glancing down his tanned and toned body at the white swimsuit he wore, and then flicking an accusing thumb in the direction of his elder brother. “Jon is being a wuss. There’s girls at the bar but he won’t go inside in Speedos. The poor baby is shy.”

With a growl and an angry glare, Jon said, “All I said was; I don’t want to go to the bar. It’s in the main building. There’s a smaller one right here by the beach.”

“And the girls are in the main bar,” Eric said to Jon, turning to tell Brandon and Chase. “He insisted on staying here when I wanted to go up and have a look. Now that I’ve confirmed there are girls, he still won’t go. He’s shy.”

Before Jon had a chance to reply, Brandon tugged on his arm, leading him a few yards down the beach before asking, “Okay, what’s really bothering you?”

Jon shrugged, hesitating a few moments before answering. “Eric’s right and he knows it. I don’t want to go to the bar dressed like this, so he’s winding me up, trying to make me admit it.”

“So prove him wrong. Go to the bar and don’t let it bother you. Chase and I will go if you will. Trust me, the girls won’t mind a bit,” Brandon said with a slight nod.

Turning to walk back towards his brothers, Jon laughed. “Okay, I’ll go. Safety in numbers, right?” Jon walked right past a puzzled Eric and Chase, heading for the bar.

Strolling into the main building, they headed towards the bar. Eric stepped past Jon and Brandon and took the point, puffing his tan, defined chest out a little, and aiming a lascivious wink at the four bikini-clad girls who watched from a corner booth.

The recognition was instant. “Instinct,” cried one of the girls, standing up as she squealed loudly, “Oh my God, I want an autograph! Please?”

The four grinning guys joined the girls at the table, signing the proffered napkins as Jon and Eric squeezed in, bumping shoulders with the girls as they signed. Jon showed no sign of shyness, easily matching his brother as they began to flirt with the four girls. Chase caught Brandon’s eye and then looked at the bar before asking everyone, “Name your poison; I’ll get us a round.”

Beers all around was the answer. Chase walked towards the bar, Brandon by his side, to the waiting bartender and placed the order. “A pitcher of four-ex, please.” While the bartender pulled the beer, Chase lowered his voice to tell Brandon, “We’ll drop off the beer and say we have an appointment. Otherwise those girls might...” Chase let his words trail off meaningfully.

“Yeah, good plan,” Brandon said.

Chase accepted the beer as the bartender asked, “Anything else, sir?” Brandon spotted a bottle of tequila on the bottle shelf and angled his head towards it to call the bottle to Chase’s attention. Misreading the gesture, the bartender lowered his voice to a whisper to say, “I can serve you guys anything but tequila. I’ve got strict orders from my boss about that, but I don’t know why.”

Laughing, Chase explained to the puzzled barkeep, “That would be from our manager. My brother, Eric, likes tequila but he goes nuts on it.”

Brandon and Chase walked away to deliver the beer. The bartender, who was always pleased to have celebrity guests, had been delighted to find out that Instinct was staying at the resort. More than once, he’d made some easy money by tipping off the paparazzi when a famous guest arrived, and this time had been no exception.

Making their excuses, Brandon and Chase left the bar to resume their afternoon on the jet-skis.

* * *

Dimitri scowled as his listening-device detector beeped. With a little irritation, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and turned it off, irked that he’d neglected to do so. The device worked by detecting radio transmissions of any kind, which was why a cell phone, which transmits to a cell tower even while off, had to be deactivated prior to any bug sweep. Shutting the phone completely off, Dimitri then swept the Land Rover with his detector, taking several minutes and doing the job with care. However, Dimitri failed to notice the GPS that Brandon had planted, as the device was not a transmitter of any kind, so it wasn't picked up by the detector.

With that job done, Dimitri headed over to the clean room to check on the engineer’s progress and take a few more photos.

Walking back into The Scar’s small office, Dimitri took a seat. The Scar glanced up from his paperwork to ask, “Is everything going well with the assembly?”

Nodding, Dimitri replied, “Yes, Vozhd. We are still approximately three days ahead of schedule. The cores are installed, the thermocouples are operational, and Vladimir and his assistant are mounting the explosive lenses.”

The Scar chuckled. “Yes, I saw them doing so yesterday. Vladimir is even irritating his assistant.” His voice turning serious and lowering by several decibels, The Scar said, “Everything is set in Paraguay. Once we have America’s money with which to offer every officer millions, and have forced America’s support, we shall have no problems. The situation in Bolivia is progressing as I predicted, so once we have Paraguay, we’ll be in position to control Bolivia’s eastern provinces and their natural gas. We’ll have our own little empire to run as we see fit.”

Relishing the thought of a country at their feet, Dimitri smiled. His smile grew into a grin when he realized another aspect to The Scar’s plans. “Vozhd, I think I see now why you wanted so many sets of certain components to be manufactured, far more than we shall need for the decoy bombs.”

The Scar smirked in a self-satisfied way. “Correct; we will obtain more plutonium and other components, which should prove easy given unlimited funds. If not, we can always demand it from America, but no matter; we’ll be able to utilize Vladimir’s designs. We dare not demand completed nuclear weapons; there are too many ways that they could be rendered inoperative, ways that we could not detect short of attempting to detonate them. We’ll have some components from here assuming that the shipment gets through and within a few years, we will have a small arsenal. Even if we cannot, the planted devices will provide us with the ultimate protection. Does that sound agreeable to you, Mr. Defense Minister?”

Dimitri smiled, nodding his approval, delighted that the plan they had developed was going smoothly so far.

The one remaining fly in the ointment soured The Scar’s expression as he spoke of it, “I’ve made some excuses to spare myself from having to spend more time with the Instinct party here in Queensland. They shouldn’t be offended, because they are quite busy filming the video, which I had to have my front company offer in order to sweeten the deal and get them to Australia. I’ll have to join them in Perth for a day when their gear arrives. After that I can hopefully be rid of them until their Brisbane concert.” Dimitri nodded his approval, and the two men began to re-hash the final details of their plans.

Vladimir, over in the clean room, checked his inventory of explosive lenses, chuckling to himself. It had been so easy, and Dimitri had never noticed, perhaps because Dimitri thought him a fool. Vladimir congratulated himself for thinking up such a brilliant ploy; demanding more explosives and gold than he would need for the bomb project, and sequestering them right under his employer’s very nose. How foolish of them, he thought, to not keep a more careful track. He knew, or at least strongly suspected, that they never intended to pay him. Therefore, he would pay himself, as well as taking a few steps to ensure his own long-term safety.

* * *

The next morning Brandon and Chase, who had stayed in their room to avoid the girls, listened through the door as Jon and Eric said goodbye to their two overnight guests. Brandon snickered. “I’m surprised they didn’t have two each. There were four, after all.”

Laughing softly, Chase replied, “They probably would if they could have.”

Hearing the front door close, Brandon and Chase, dressed in board shorts and tank tops, raced downstairs, eager to get something to eat. Finding Jon and Eric wearing towels and walking back to their rooms, Chase said, “We’re heading for the restaurant. Helen wants us ready to go in half an hour.”

“Wait up,” Eric said, while Jon dashed for his room. Eric rushed off to his own room, returning seconds later, tugging on a pair of shorts, leaving the shirt in his hand off, and tucking it into his waistband. Jon joined them and they set off for breakfast.

Gazing out at the ocean while waiting for their food on the restaurant’s patio, Brandon couldn’t resist ribbing Eric and Jon, “Just one girl each last night? You guys must be losing your touch.”

Eric, Jon, and Chase laughed, and Eric replied, “Hey, we tried, but they aren’t into that. We might even be seeing the same girls again tonight.”

Chase rocked back in his chair, his eyes opening wide in exaggerated shock as he said, “You might see the same girl twice in a row? I think I hear hell calling and they need snowplows right away...”

Leaping to Eric’s defense, Brandon said, “C’mon, Chase, he’s not promiscuous,” turning to face Eric, Brandon added with a wicked grin, “He’s a slut.”

Jon doubled over howling with laughter as Chase cracked up, and Eric grumbled, “Shut it, Jon, you’re no different from me. When was the last time you saw the same girl twice in a row?”

Still sputtering with laughter, Jon gasped, “More recently than you, and unlike you I don’t intentionally avoid it, but when we’re on the road, there isn’t much choice.”

After sticking his tongue out in Brandon’s direction, Eric replied, “I’m not into relationships. I just like sex, easy and often.”

“We know. You’re a horn dog,” Brandon said, breaking into laughter at Eric’s expense.

With a happy laugh of his own, Eric said, “Horny and proud, that’s me. Maybe I’ll meet the right person someday, but for now I’m happy so why change?”

After breakfast, the guys met up with Barbra, Günter, and Helen. Helen led them, without a word, to the airstrip. There, she suppressed a laugh at Brandon’s stunned expression as the sleek bulk of the red and gold painted Bell 230 helicopter came into view. The pilot scrambled out to usher everyone aboard. While they buckled in, filling every available seat, Helen said, “There’s no airstrip where we’re going. The film crew is traveling by boat, but that would take too long from here. We’re filming on Carlisle Island.”

“Carlisle Island?” Jon asked with a puzzled look.

Helen nodded. “It was the videographer’s idea. He said it would be a perfect location, and the play on your last name could be a plus for PR, so I approved it.

Further conversation was cut short by the rising whine of the twin turbine engines spooling up. The main rotor began to spin, filling the cockpit with a dull roar, and as the pilot advanced the throttle and twisted the collective, the chopper roared into the tropical sky.

After a twenty minute flight over the reefs and shallow waters of the Coral Sea, the pilot descended as the mountainous green-draped bulk of Carlisle Island grew near. A few puffy white clouds clung to the tips of its highest points, casting shadows down the island’s green slopes.

Swooping in over the uninhabited island’s reef and white-bottomed lagoon, the pilot flared the chopper as it neared the beach.

Pivoting into the wind, the pilot set down on a strip of coral sand beach, kicking up a temporary sandstorm that nearly engulfed the nearby motorboat which had carried the videographer and his crew to the island.

Once they had all disembarked, Helen introduced Instinct to the videographer who was quick to get down to business. “Nice to meet you. We’ve set up the cameras, and for wardrobe and a lot of other things, we’re roughing it. Get into your costumes and we’ll get started. The director will guide you, so just follow instructions and we’ll be fine.”

Chase noticed Helen’s unsuccessful attempt to hide a smirk at the mention of ‘costumes’, but he decided to let her have whatever surprise she had in store. He didn’t have long to wait. The director, after a further hasty round of introductions, led them to a suitcase which lay open on the beach. “Our costume department,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh, fucking hell, no,” Jon said, his eyes opening wide at the sight of a set of brief, tan, leather loincloths. Spinning to face Helen he said, “You can’t be serious.”

“Sorry hon,” Helen replied, not the least bit sorry and barely able to keep from laughing. “The theme for the video is the jungle, so you’ll all be dressed appropriately. That’s why I had you all work on your tan lines. The rest of our videos will be shot in concert during the tour, but for this one, we wanted something different.”

Chase tried to calm Jon down by saying, “These don’t look any worse than what I wore to Jerry’s costume party.”

“Yeah, but you’re a damn exhibitionist anyway,” Jon grumbled before looking first towards Eric. Finding no support from his brother, not that he’d expected any, Jon glanced hopefully at Brandon.

Brandon shrugged, and then replied to Jon’s unspoken request with a chuckle, “I can’t say I like it, but even if you and I vote against it, I think Chase and Eric will vote for it, and Helen will cast her tiebreaker, so we might as well give in. It might make a hot video too, so this is business.”

Glaring in Chase and Eric’s direction, Jon snatched up a loincloth and said, “You guys are corrupting Brandon.”

Jon stalked off towards the bushes to change, and his band mates followed suit. Jon, as Helen had expected, was the last to return, looking decidedly uneasy in his brief loincloth. Eric and Chase seemed to take it all in stride, and Brandon, Helen thought, wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d expected.

Helen turned away, but a stray thought caused her to glance back at her charges. Eric, she noticed, was casually standing near Jon, partially shielding him from the sight of the director and crew. Eric reached up at the sky and stretched his lean torso, before taking the time to adjust his loincloth a little lower. Helen noticed Eric taking a quick glance back at Jon, and then at the crew, before stepping forward a few inches to better impede their line of sight. She chuckled, wondering if Jon had noticed that Eric was trying to help him by making him feel less exposed. Eric would never admit to it: of that, she had no doubt whatsoever.

“Let’s get to work,” the director barked, waving his two cameramen and Instinct into the lush jungle beyond the sand.

Watching the proceedings with amusement, Barbra waited until the guys were out of earshot to say to Helen, “So that’s what you had planned. Good thing you kept it a secret, or Jon would have bitched about it non-stop.”

With a smile, Helen replied, “It’ll make a good video, I hope, so he’ll get over it. I just wish I’d had a camera out; the look on his face was priceless.”

The day proved long, with never-ending re-takes and poses; running through the jungle, climbing trees, and even swinging from some fake vines strung for the purpose. None of the guys could figure out what form the video would finally take, and by the end of the day they were sick of cameras and re-takes. After a few sunset shots on the beach itself,

The director called it a wrap for the day and to Jon’s evident relief, Instinct was allowed to change back into their clothes.

Once they had flown back to the resort, dinner was followed quickly by Jon and Eric seeking out their female companions from the night before. The following morning was a repeat of the one before, and again Instinct found themselves on Carlisle Island, spending half the day running around in loincloths, though this time, a still photographer joined the fray.

By afternoon, to the relief of all, the director called a wrap to the video, leaving Instinct to the tender mercies of the still photographer. After two days in a loincloth, even Jon didn’t complain too much about having a few beach shots taken of the group in Speedos, though most of the photo shoot involved just wearing boardies. A few shots were taken with the guys carrying surfboards along the beach, though the photographer had to choose her angles with care to avoid showing the surfless sea.

With the second day done and over, the members of Instinct were delighted to learn that tomorrow, the last day before they left for Perth to kick off their Australian tour, would be a free day – theirs to do to with as they pleased.

The following morning, after bidding farewell to the girls, Jon and Eric pounded on Brandon and Chase’s door. Eric yelled, “Get out here, it’s our last day.”

Stumbling out of the door in boardies, Brandon and Chase joined Jon and Eric for an early breakfast.

As they finished eating, Eric announced that he’d booked a charter boat and some snorkeling gear, along with a guide, to take them to the outer reaches of the Great Barrier Reef. The other guys approved of the plan with evident delight. They spent the morning and the early afternoon seeing the wonders of various sections of the Great Barrier Reef from the boat – a fifty foot sailing catamaran – and then up close as their guide took them to a prime snorkeling area. The multi-colored fish amazed them all, and to complete the expedition the guide brought out some bread, handing each of the guys a piece so the members of Instinct could hand-feed a small school of vibrantly colored butterfly fish. The speargun-armed guide and his crewman who remained on the boat also kept a wary eye out for sharks and jellyfish, but none intruded upon their afternoon.

Taking his turn to feed the fish, Chase dived after snorkeling for air, nearing a coral wall after a few kicks of his flippered feet. Holding his breath, he held out the bread, grinning as the foot-long, brilliantly colored butterfly fish darted in, hesitating before seizing a morsel of food and darting away. Others were not so shy, and Chase soon found himself surrounded by the small school, to his utter delight.

Answering the call of his burning lungs, Chase kicked towards the surface, where his brothers and Brandon floated watching, having already taken their own turns with the fish.

Returning to the resort, the guys decided to spend the few remaining hours of their day walking around the island on the beach. Strolling along in boardies and sunglasses, they stopped by a small grass-shack bar and picked up a few drinks, though not, to Eric’s dismay, tequila. Resuming their stroll, Brandon noticed a small skiff not far offshore, moving parallel to the beach and pacing them. Squinting against the glare, he couldn’t make out any detail, but Eric noticed the object of his attention and turned to look.

“Paparazzi,” Eric hissed, his fists clenching as he realized that his most hated enemy had returned. “How the hell did they know we were here?” he asked of no one in particular.

Jon studied the boat for a few moments. “They can’t come ashore; they aren’t guests, so let’s go inland.”

Leading the way towards the resort’s main complex and away from the beach, Eric said with disgust, “Why can’t those guys just go the hell away. There’s gotta be something we can do. This is our last day of our vacation... I hate those fucking scum!”

The resort’s main pool, they discovered to their dismay, was currently occupied by several shrieking children. “I want to go back to the beach, but not with those stalking scum following us.” Eric said, with venom in his voice. Eric’s angry look began to fade, his face becoming blank for a few moments before he said in a more normal tone of voice, “Didn’t our guide from the snorkeling trip say that he was a scuba instructor and dive guide here too?”

Brandon nodded, as did Jon and Chase. A cunning smile crept onto Eric’s face as he said, “Let’s go find him. I’ve got an idea.”

A quick question at the resort’s service desk was all it took, and minutes later, the guide joined them in the lobby.

Puzzled by the mischievous expressions of the four shirtless guys, the guide did not have long to wait as Eric lead them all outside for some privacy. Pulling out his wallet, Eric began thumbing out American hundred-dollar bills as he said, “We’d like to hire you for a little job. There are some paparazzi in a small motorboat just off the north side of the island, and we’d really like them to have some kind of boat trouble so they can’t follow us when we go back to the beach.” Eric proffered a handful of banknotes at the guide, before asking with a friendly smile, “Do you think you could arrange something?”

Taking a quick glance around to confirm that they were alone, the guide nodded, taking the banknotes as he said, “Wait ten minutes, then go to the beach and give ‘em a target for about ten more. Wait until you see me come up onto the beach, then go for a jog and watch the fun.”

Feeling much more at ease by the pool though the conditions were unchanged, the members of Instinct ordered another round of drinks, and sat around, speculating on what the guide would do. Checking a wall clock, Eric declared with evident glee, “It’s just about time. Let’s go.”

Jogging out onto the beach where they’d last seen the boat, they pretended to ignore it, grabbing beach towels and laying out on the sand, watching out of the corner of their eyes as the shutterbugs, leaving their engine off, drifted along a hundred feet off the beach.

Approaching from seaward and hoping that his trail of bubbles would not be noticed, the guide ascended under the stern of the boat. Water conducts sound well, so he felt confident that he’d be alerted in time if the intruders tried to start the engine. Reaching for his toolkit, the guide considered the risk a small one, well worth taking for the amount he was being paid for a few minute’s work.

From his beach towel, Jon caught a flash of movement to his right, and turned to watch as the guide, decked out in scuba tanks, a mask, weight belt, and flippers, waddled onto the beach. “That’s our signal, let’s go,” Jon said with a grin. The four guys bounded up, sprinting west along the beach.

They heard the boat’s engine cough to life and then whine with a loud, high pitch, revving a few times, as one of the boat’s occupants dropped his camera to peer over the side.

The members of Instinct doubled back, trotting towards the guide. They reached him just as he was kicking off his flippers. He held out his hands to offer them their prize. “They won’t get far without this,” he said with a chuckle, handing Eric the boat’s small propeller.

Eric doubled over, laughing, barely holding onto the propeller he now clutched in his hand and planned to keep as a souvenir. “How will they get back? Not that I care...”

“The boat looks like a rental. There’s a cell tower here on the island so they’ll probably have to call to be picked up. I’d say they’re going to spend a few hours drifting and then have a hefty bill for their trouble,” the guide replied, laughing as he watched the boat’s frantic occupants, and heard the frequent whines of their now-irrelevant engine.

The guide took his leave, and Brandon, Chase, Eric and Jon turned to walk down the beach, away from the drifting boat, to spend the remainder of their day on the beach, happily unmolested.