Chapter 11: Fucking Big Idiots

"Pounds sound much, much less remiss," the leader of the five said. Bobbie began to laugh and Sir William nodded.

"Of course, I misspoke," I answered in a deadpan voice. "I meant to say a hundred and fifty pounds. I laughed.

"All remissions have been wiped out, Mister Hundley. The slate is clean. We shall be on the alert for any other intrusions into your privacy during your stay with us." He nodded and turned to leave.

"Please tell your manager to advance you the funds and put them on our bill. Also, please make certain all the charges go on the corporate credit card we presented yesterday evening." Bobbie smiled and escorted them out. She closed and locked the door behind them.

"Mood swings? Wrong medications? What in hell is going on here?" Sir William seemed about ready to collapse.

"Go pour yourself a drink," I gestures to the small bar in the corner. "You look like you could use a stiff one." I saw Bobbie grin at me and added, "A stiff drink, that is."

Sir William flushed and smiled weakly at the intended pun and hurried over to the well stocked bar.

"Anything for you?" he asked Bobbie and me.

She shook her head no and I answered, "None for me, thanks."

"Now, what in bloody blue hell is going on?" he asked me. He had poured a water tumbler half full of scotch whiskey.

"The Watkins people seem to be tied in with international drugs and perhaps terrorist activities as well. There has to be someone behind them pulling their strings. They don't strike me as the caliber people capable of running such a diverse operation."

"But why Hundley? Why right now?" he whined. "We have enough trouble with the coming stockholders' fight and special projects funding drying up. We definitely do not need any further complications right now." Again, the special project came up. His mention of a special project went right over my head at the time.

"I believe that is the reason right there. Remember, the Watkins people initiated the whole thing. As everything presently stands this company is vulnerable as few international corporations ever are. The heir apparent, me, cannot control the stock unless I produce a child. Then I may only act as guardian and conservator for my heir. I shall have limited authority at best. My child inherits when he"

"Or she," Bobbie interrupted me.

"Or she, or they," I agreed with a sigh, "reaches the age of maturity. My Father tried to break us up so I'd marry someone of his choosing and failed. The will he set up was his way of punishing me." I gestured for something to write on.

Bobbie handed me the attaché case. I opened it, took out a pen and paper and wrote, "We may be bugged." I showed the note to Bobbie. She passed it to Sir William.

Sir William opened his mouth to speak and Bobbie reached in his mouth and pinched his tongue. "Shush!" she whispered.

"Someone might have planted recording devices," I wrote on the note pad and handed it to him. After he read it I said, "Neither Bobbie nor I were very hungry earlier this morning. Its lunch time, would you join us?"

He opened his mouth to speak and Bobbie reached toward his mouth. "Oh yes, that sounds wonderful!" he exclaimed as he backed warily away from her.

"You two men go ahead. I need to wash my hands and will join you in the dining room." Bobbie frowned a warning at Sir William and hurried toward the bathroom.

He opened the door and followed me out into the hall.

I still had the briefcase on my lap. "Now I want" I tossed the attaché case at his head and he ducked.

"I seem to have dropped the attaché case. Would you be a nice guy and hand it to me." I asked in a friendly voice. I frowned and made a zipping motion across my lips.

"Would you please tell me what is going on?" he asked as we entered the elevator.

"You fucking dense fool, I am almost positive our suite is bugged and you would not shut your fucking mouth. Until we find out, do not blabber about anything but the weather." I was almost angry enough to stand up and hit him right then. Instead, I told him, "Now if you can't get with the program I'll ask my wife to beat the shit out of you. She is very jealous now that we have made up. Do you understand?"

"Ah yes," he answered weakly. "But what is this about bugging devices? This is no James Bond cinema. Are you daft?"

"Willy, the Hundley holdings in the States are worth nearly a billion dollars. The holdings over here in the European sector are worth that and almost as much more. Perhaps even more because I believe there may be other properties I am not aware of. I have been effectively cut out of so much everything because of the old fool's will. Bobbie, because of the stock she inherited from her parents and grandparents was able to keep tabs on some of the goings on. Her lawyer blocked most of the attempts the Watkins Group made to take over completely."

He told me, "They made several overtures toward me but I saw no advantage in aligning myself with them. I told them thank you and good bye."

"You're very lucky they didn't have you killed."

"Why on Earth would they desire to do me harm?" He honestly looked puzzled.

"They killed my bodyguard of many years, Carl and," I caught myself as I almost named Daniel by name. I paused and said, "my attendant." They blew up an elevator shaft to kill them. They bombed my family home. There is a hole where formerly stood a stately old mansion. All the staff was killed. We just came from Berne where a second attempt was made by two Arab terrorists. Get it through your fuzzy head, they will kill you if it suits them."

The elevator stopped on the ground floor and the doors opened. "My god, what can I do?" he blurted, startling two couples waiting to get on as soon as we left.

"Get a new boy friend," I told him sourly. The couples frowned at me as we moved past them. I wondered if this guy had any smarts at all.

"That was an uncalled for remark," he told me petulantly.

"No, it was not uncalled for," I told him. "You can't get it through your fucking head we are all three targeted for murder. Get your head out of your asshole

and smell the storm clouds. If we three are killed and there is no heir, the Watkins' win and we lose."

"Oh," he said as we entered the dining room. The hostess led us to the same corner and seated us at the same table where Bobbie and I sat earlier.

Bobbie caught up with us just as William started to seat himself. "Willy Boy, are you as fucking stupid as you just acted up there?"

"Here now, you can't," he tried to protest.

She cut him off, "I can and I shall as I just did. Get it through your poufy little brain we are going to be killed if we can't come up with something." She took a deep breath and asked, "Do you have any living relatives?"

"No," he answered sadly, "I am the last of my family. I have no issue."

"What I propose is very simple. I make you the inheritor of my Hundley stock and you make me sole heir of your holdings. This agreement between us shall be in effect for one year. If you die I get your stock. If we die, you get mine. It's called a survivor's agreement. Are you game?"

"What if we both die?" he asked hesitantly.

"Then we are all totally out of luck and won't care about it anyway because we'll all be dead." She started to cry, "I'm scared and don't want to die. But if I do, I do not want those people to win anyway."

"Let's go to the embassy after we eat lunch and get the agreement drawn up. Also, we want another agreement drawn up where you vote our block of stock any time Bobbie and I are not present or available. It is my plan for us to disappear from public view while we get this straightened out.

In spite of your denseness where these killers are concerned, I believe you are a good executive and an honest person. Being the target of murderers is as new to you as it is to us."

"Thank you. Shall we order?" He smiled his forgiveness at us and accepted a menu. I knew on a visceral level he had not accepted how much danger he truly was in.

Bobbie and I ordered rare prime rib and a salad.

William stayed very English with poached trout. We ate in silence.

As soon as we finished our meal, he dabbed his mouth delicately and asked, "Shall we? My chauffeur brought a company van around again." I nodded. Bobbie rose from her chair and I rolled away from the table. In minutes, we were on our way to the embassy.

The marine guard at the gate stopped us. "You are the Hundley party?" he asked neutrally.

"Yes we are," I answered.

"Wait one," he said and lifted the phone and called someone inside. A minute later a marine captain came out to escort us.