still, and it seemed like I had forever to think things through. Either that or you get so used to playing nothing straight that in times of stress a certain rote behavior takes over. In any case, I whirled around (as if shot), fell to the ground (as if shot), and howled bloody murder (as if—well, you get the gist).
Hines labored up the hillside to finish me off. He grunted as he neared, losing his traction in the softening earth. I rose up with a feral roar and hurled myself at him. He outweighed me by a fair amount, but I had elevation on my side, and my momentum toppled us both into the mud. Then gravity (“not just a good idea, it’s the law”) took over and sent us both rolling and tumbling down the hillside, clawing and kicking and punching at each other as our bodies slammed against roots and rocks and wet nasty pricker bushes. Somewhere along the way we hit something big, started cartwheeling, and didn’t stop until we slammed into the back wall of the Java Man.
My head hit cinderblock with a thud that I’ll just go ahead and describe as sickening. Man, I thought as consciousness swam, twice in one day. That is just not fair. But then I looked left and saw Hines crumpled at the base of the wall with his head more or less at right angles to his neck, and I thought, Well, things could be worse.
The Java Man’s manager came running out. “What the fuck?” he asked, more or less rhetorically.
I tried to answer. Instead, I took a nap.
I woke in a hospital. A doctor stood over me, peering into my eyes. He asked me to follow his finger, which I did, and this pleased him, I thought, a good deal more than it should. He turned to the primly dressed woman standing nearby. “He’s going to be fine, Mrs….” He paused to consult his chart. “… Rook. Your husband, Geen …” He did a double take. “Is that correct? Geen?”
“Yes,” answered Allie in a perfect South African accent. “Geen Rook. It’s Afrikaans.” *
“Very well,” said the doc. “He should be clear in a day or two. In the meantime, he’ll be well cared for here. He has excellent health insurance.” Of course I do. That’s what the Geen Rook identity is for. Clever of Allie to dig it out of my files, and bonus points for dealing herself in as my wife. Maybe she’d like some cosmetic surgery while she waits.
No, you know what? She’s perfect how she is.
Two days later, I left the hospital with the whole welcoming committee there to greet me: Allie, Billy, and Vic. They were well, despite having spent eighteen rough hours in the elements until some hikers found them the next day. I was so happy to see them. My team … my friends … they’d executed the gaff perfectly, mooking Hines into thinking that they’d all betrayed me and, especially, staying with it when I got whacked on the head and forgot that Allie was in on the twist. Solid performers. Even Vic.
At that, I confess, I was a little surprised to see them walking around so … free to be walking around. Hadn’t the cops asked embarrassing questions about the whole chained-to-a-tree situation?
“What cops?” asked Allie.
“Well, I mean, didn’t the hikers notify someone? That was a pretty funky state you were in.”
“Too right, mate,” said Billy. “So we told them it was a bondage game gone wrong, and they cleared out fast.” Ah. Couldn’t blame them for that. I would, too.
But what about Scovil?
Apparently, she’d come to before dawn, aching and angry, but a lot less rattled in her cage than I’d been. Her first thought had been to blow a big whistle, bust Hines, me, them, and anyone else she could think of.
They had many hours to persuade her otherwise. All it took was a little attentive listening and a whole big pile of cash.
As it turned out, Scovil’s family had been taken in by my tropical island scam, and pretty well wrecked on it, too. This had propelled Scovil into a law enforcement career, with a particular ax to grind for the grift. But a fascination, too, the way anti-gay crusaders are sometimes the ones who end up in the men’s room stalls. So she’d always had a love/hate relationship with Billy and, by distant extension, me.
Poor Scovil, so deeply conflicted. Was she a contrite law officer trying