Chapter 7

I finally worked out how to get my machine pistol through security. I stripped it down into all of its components and packed it in a bag with several video games. The resulting X-ray should confuse things enough that the Uzi knockoff should get past the computer search. It was checked through as part of my baggage, and no one complained.

We got to the airport in Providence with no significant problems, but we did have a problem finding a place to park. That seems to be a problem at all airports nowadays, so we just outlasted the aggravation. Naturally, we flew elite class, so we were escorted to our seats as soon as the plane arrived at the terminal. We were served snacks and drinks while we waited for the plane to take off.

As licensed bodyguards, Nancy and I were allowed to keep our weapons, and we were introduced to the air marshal on board so as to make sure there was no confusion if trouble did start. That’s when I found out that I could have carried my machine pistol on board the plane if I had given them 24 hours notice. Oh, well, I would do that on the way home.

The flight was pleasant and we arrived in Miami much less tired than I had expected. Those vibrating seats in elite class sure kept your muscles from freezing up. Flying aboard a Boeing-Airbus 1027 was certainly the way to go, all you need is enough money for your ticket!

We were even escorted off the plane and our baggage was delivered to our little alcove where we waited with even more snacks and drinks. By that time, I’d had about all of the lemonade that I could hold for a week! Mr. Quinton’s travel agent had arranged for us to have a chauffeured stretch limousine for our entire stay, so I did not have to do any of the driving while we were in the Miami area. Damn, now that’s the way to live!

Our hotel suite, the penthouse, naturally, had two complete bedroom/bathroom combos with a genuine Jacuzzi in each bath. There was also a “parlor” and dining room. As soon as we were alone, Nancy and I swept it for all sorts of bugs. We didn’t find anything, and that had been guaranteed by the hotel management, so we accepted it as fact until proven otherwise.

The view from the outdoor “patio” was spectacular! We could see from the Atlantic Ocean to Hialeah. This was as posh as it was possible to get, and Nancy and I knew that it would be a long time, if ever, before we could afford something like this on our own.

That evening, The Quintons decided to stay at the hotel and visit their best (defined as most expensive) restaurant and clubs for dancing after dinner. Fortunately, we had been clued in by Mrs. Quinton as to the clothes to bring, so we wore our tuxedo and best party dress. The people of the hotel staff had unpacked all of our suitcases and pressed our clothes, so we were able to show up without a wrinkle in sight.

Nancy and I were agog at the money tossed around by the patrons of the restaurant and clubs. I wondered how they could keep from being robbed with the reputation that the Miami gangs had earned. The only thing that I could figure was that the hotel was paying protection money to one or more gangs. Oh, well, that was none of my business, so I didn’t push for information.

All four of us were pretty well exhausted by the time we left the last club. Nancy and I had switched to orange juice from lemonade as soon as we entered the restaurant, but Mr. and Mrs. Quinton were somewhat unsteady on their feet as we entered the elevator. Uh-oh, I sensed trouble!

We had two companions with us on the elevator: two men who were dressed in the ubiquitous tux, but looked hard as nails. The elevator had only progressed 1½ floors when one of the men slapped the Emergency Stop button. They started to pull guns from under their jackets, but I beat both of them to the punch with my baton. One, I jabbed in the solar plexus and Nancy caught him with a rabbit punch to his windpipe on the way down. The other man had already gotten out his pistol and was in the process of pointing it at Mrs. Quinton.

I had so little time that I simply broke the wrist with the gun by using my baton. I then hit him over the heart with the end of my baton. His heart was shocked so much by the breaking ribs, etc. that it stopped beating. I flipped on the intercom to the desk and reported the incident. “Yes, Sir. We have the whole incident recorded on video. Congratulations on taking care of the situation so expeditiously. Please accept our sincere regrets and apologies for the untoward event. If you will release the elevator and return it to the ground floor, we will take care of the details.”

That they did with hotel security as soon as we touched the ground floor. Both assailants were dead by this time, so there was not much to be done. Housekeeping had the most work to do because they had to clean up the piss and shit dumped by the two dead assailants.

The hotel manager, himself, showed up to apologize again and again, ad nauseum. He assured us that heads would roll in the Security Department over this incident; meanwhile, the rest of our stay at the hotel was on the house. Damn, that was going to amount to somewhere in the range of $75,000 lost to the hotel! Now I knew that reputation was everything in still another business besides ours.

Mr. Quinton finally managed to break us away from the hotel manager, and this time we made it all the way to the room without any trouble. Once inside the suite, Mrs. Quinton said, “You two wonderful people most certainly saved our lives tonight. I don’t know how we can thank you adequately, but we would like to try. To start with, is there anything that either one of you would like to do while we are in South Florida?”

Nancy said, “We consider it just part of the job you hired us for. That’s what a bodyguard does. However, if it’s not too much trouble, I sure would like to see Disney World if I can.”

Mr. Quinton laughed and said, “I, too, would like to visit that place, but I have always let my so-called dignity keep me out. Let’s spend two weeks sight-seeing around Miami, and then spend two weeks in the Orlando area. How does that sound?”

The two women squealed with joy, and I applauded, so Mr. Quinton had his answer. He called home the next morning and got our reservations changed so that we could spend two weeks in the Orlando area. Hell, this was turning into some great vacation from ice and snow!

To make a long story short, we spent the next 12 days sight-seeing in Miami and the environs. We even spent some time on the beach. Nancy and I were careful, but the Quintons both got a sunburn. Modern medicine being what it is, neither one suffered for more than an hour or so with the burn. I have no idea what it was that they used on the burned skin, it had a name 27 letters long, but the stuff worked a miracle. We all were able to go dancing that night.

We spent the next day doing everything necessary to get out of Miami. The big deal was that we flew in a helicopter from the roof of our penthouse to the roof of the hotel inside Disney World. Wow, the Quintons were going all out to show us a good time!

We rested that afternoon and planned our trek through Disney World. Actually, there was so much to see and do here that we never got to any of the other attractions around the area. Mr. Quinton said that he hoped we could all make a trip back to Orlando next year to see some more of the theme parks, etc. Our ears perked up at that, and we hoped that it would work out. This trip had been a blast!

Our trip back to Worcester was about what you would expect. There was still plenty of snow on the ground, but the weather had warmed up enough so that some of it was melting. Yes, by giving 24 hours notice and showing my license at the security gate, I was able to carry my machine pistol onto the plane. We delivered the Quintons to their home in Worcester and Mr. Griffin picked us up for the ride to our home.

He was full of questions about our trip, especially about the attempted robbery in the elevator. We went over that several times with him until he was satisfied that he had drained us dry of information. At the time, I thought that Mr. Griffin was just terminally curious, but about a month later I found out what was really going on. He was a part-time inventor, and he had been working on a new automatic pistol design. The reason that he had asked so many questions about our adventures was because he wanted background information to guide his development project.