Chapter 10: The Calm Before the Storm

We arrived at the airbnb safely Sunday afternoon, although my body clock said it was time for bed. So after supper at a local pizza place, that’s exactly where I headed.

Monday morning after a breakfast of fruit, pastries, coffee, and fresh-squeezed orange juice, Andreza and I headed out to do some shopping. If I thought I was getting out from under Isabelle’s iron guidance, I was mistaken. Isabella had given Andreza firm instructions, so once more, I found myself saying “Yes, Ma’am,” a lot as I followed her through several different stores.

By lunch time, I had enough clothes for the week so we returned to the airbnb. I quickly cut off the tags and threw the new clothes in the wash. All except the board shorts which I threw on and made my way to the pool out back. It was enclosed in a screen mesh, presumably to keep the mosquitoes and other varmints at bay and I swam laps until Andreza called me for lunch. It was toasted ham and cheese sandwiches with a spicy tomato soup. I loved it! I later found out that she had mixed half tomato soup with half V-8 juice.

Since my clubs hadn’t arrived, I opted for a nap, hoping to get my body clock acclimated to Eastern Daylight time.

It was around four o’clock when I awoke and after a quick shower, I dressed and went out to the kitchen to find that my clubs had arrived. Andreza and I loaded the clubs and some bottled waters and took off for the Grande Oaks Golf Club nearby.

Grande Oaks features an 18-hole championship golf course and a 40-acre practice facility, called the Grande Oaks Golf Academy. It’s bigger claim to fame is that it was where the movie ‘Caddyshack’ was filmed back in 1980, when the course was known as Rolling Hills Country Club.

I spent the next two hours on the driving range and then thirty minutes on the putting green, just trying to get my game back. I was rusty and made up my mind that I was coming back tomorrow, regardless. I needed it. I never spotted any groundhogs.

That night, around a casual supper of barbequed ribs and pulled pork (along with corn on the cob, potato salad, and coleslaw), Reggie and the five agents discussed their observations out at Oceanside Country Club. Specifically, the 7th green.

As they talked, a plan began to form in my mind. I decided I would discuss it with Reggie later. I had planned to talk with him after the team meeting, but I felt myself getting sleepy, and so I said goodnight and asked Reggie if we could have breakfast in the morning.

Tuesday morning, Reggie got me up at dawn and we drove to a small diner called the Red Wing Diner in Davie. There, Reggie asked for a very private booth and his generous tip to the hostess insured no one would be seated near us as long as possible.

After ordering, I quickly outlined my plan. Reggie mulled it over and said he had to check out some details and would get back to me tonight. I felt no compunction for what I proposed. These bastards had killed Cécile and I was her avenging angel.

After breakfast, Andreza and I headed back to Grande Oaks and a morning on the practice range. Lunch was from Subway. I had two turkey sandwiches and skipped the chips.

After a few laps in the pool, a shower and a nap, Andreza and another agent that was never introduced to me, drove me to a local driving range called Hacks. There, I spent a couple hours dialing in my wedges.

At supper that night, which was fresh fish with new potatoes, asparagus, and hushpuppies, Reggie went over the plan I had given him, with very few modifications, with the entire team, inviting them to punch holes in it if they could.

After a somewhat lively discussion, one of them asked about our exit plans.

“I want each of you to execute the plans you already have. Andreza and I will take care of Alex,” Reggie told them.

“What about innocents?” another asked.

“If there are any innocents, my plan becomes null and void. I would not participate in anything that would hurt them!” I said adamantly.

Andreza looked at me strangely as Reggie led the discussion in other directions. I’m sure he didn’t want me losing my temper and bursting the light bulbs and TVs. I did notice that Reggie never mentioned HOW I would do my part, only that I would when called upon.

Wednesday dawned slightly overcast with winds ten to fifteen miles per hour. Fairly typical for south Florida this time of year. After a light breakfast, we headed out to Oceanside Country Club and my practice round. The club had arranged for my playing partner so I was surprised to see Sam Peterson who ran the Korn Ferry Tour’s Instructional League waiting for me.

“Why do I feel like I have been set up?” I asked with a smile as we shook hands.

“Feeling guilty, maybe?” he shot back. “You have breakfast?”

“Yes, sir!” I replied.

“Then let’s play some golf!” he said enthusiastically. So I loaded my clubs on his cart and we took off. Just like when we played a practice round in the Bahamas, Sam had me a Tournament Yardage Book for USGA Qualifying at Oceanside Country Club, and a detailed map of the course. We spent a few minutes studying the map and then I warmed up a little before we began.

“How did you know I was going to be here?” I asked after we hit our first shots.

“The tour likes to keep its eye on potential tour players. And when your name came up on the list of registrants, the office called me. I called the local pro and found out when you had scheduled your practice round and came on down. I live up the road a short ways, near Jupiter.”

“I’m flattered,” I told him.

“Well, when you disappeared after throwing that Bahamas tournament, I thought something had happened to you,” he told me.

“Throwing the tournament?” I asked.

“Never bullshit a bullshitter,” he said with a smile. “I’ve spent nearly my whole life watching players and I can spot when a player plays bad on purpose, even though I don’t always understand why. Although, in this case, it looked to me like you didn’t want the publicity for some reason. I figured it was because of what you said in your interview about the government being after you.”

“You’re good!” I told him while admitting to nothing.

Sam got out to hit his second shot to the very edge of the green on this Par 4. Then we drove up to my ball and I used my wedge to drop my second shot about three feet from the pin. Pulling my putter, I left him to take the cart to the hole. He was away, so he would putt first. Besides, I needed time to think about what he had told me.

He two-putted for par and then watched as I sank my three-footer for a birdie.

When we got to the second hole, I noticed that he wasn’t keeping his score. Only mine.

I decided to put it out of my head and focus on my game. My next shot was to a 197 yard Par 3. I ended up about 10 feet from the cup and sank it for another birdie. I could feel that I was really in the zone, now.

When we reached the clubhouse after nine holes, I had four pars and five birdies for a 31 on the front nine. It was then that I noticed Andreza and one of the guys following behind me. I didn’t know when Sam had quit playing and just drove the cart for me.

The back nine was a little tougher and the constant wind was drying out the course quickly, so I began playing stingers and once, a real ground burner. The rules for slow play never came into consideration as I finished the round in three hours and twenty minutes with a score of 64.

“There are 98 qualified entrants, so that means that the six lowest scores will move on,” Sam told me. “A 64 should do it for you, but you need to work on your putting some. You could get stuck in a late pairing and by then, these greens will be like glass.”

I’ll do that,” I told him. “Can I buy you a glass of tea?”

“You plan on keeping your amateur status?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Then don’t be offering to buy any drinks on tournament day,” he said. “They don’t look kindly on stuff like that.”

I nodded, even though I didn’t really understand. I’d have to read up on the amateur rules some.

Andreza and her partner pulled up in their golf cart and I jumped on back with my bag and they drove us out to the car. Then Andreza stayed with me while I put my clubs in the trunk and her partner returned the cart.

Back at the airbnb, I headed for the shower. I was hot and sticky. Then I settled in for a chicken caesar salad and our now usual debriefing.

“Okay folks, what did we learn out there today?” Reggie asked.

“The house has a porch all the way across the back with plenty of casual seating for maybe fifteen or twenty.”

“There is a row of hedges on the golf course side of a low fence surrounding the pool area. But access should be fairly easy.”

“They are scheduled to go off in groups of three, so there are liable to be witnesses. Also, since it’s a Par 5, there could be another threesome coming up the fairway with a slightly impaired line of sight. We might need a diversion on the other side of the green.”