“Andy, why aren’t you touching the plaque? What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? How can you goof around at a time like this?”
“I’m not goofing around. It’s all part of the Master Plan…” -he lowered his voice-“… Remember what we talked about in the car?”
“What does touching plaques have to do with any of that?”
“The plan… has tangents.”
“There is no plan! You’re going to get me killed!”
“Touch the plaque. For me?”
Andy sighed and halfheartedly brushed it with the back of his hand.
“Now, how hard was that?”
“I am so dead.” He walked out the door.
Serge turned back to the office staff. “Appreciate the hospitality. But the plaque really should be back on the dock.”
“What?”
“I know it wasn’t your doing.” Serge winked. “We’ll talk later.”
Chapter Forty-Two
MIAMI
Another phone call.
“Hello?” said Juanita.
“Credit card’s been used again.”
“Where?”
“If I may say something, they’ve got agents all over this. Good ones. We could take a big fall, and for what?”
“The address.”
“You hear what I said?”
Juanita went from ice to thermonuclear in a blink. “You never speak disrespectfully to me! I took you in! I stood by you!”
“Didn’t mean it that way.”
“Anyone else would have been killed for letting Randall Sheets slip away!”
“I made it up to you. Even with everyone looking at us, I still went back for those informant files. Jesus, they were your brothers!”
“You’re the one who gave me their names.”
“And I’ve regretted it every day since.”
“Are we not paying you enough?”
“That isn’t what I mean. This is a business, and this makes no business sense.”
“Because of who you are to me, I will make an exception and ask you one more time, but only one more time. What is the address where the credit card was used?”
A pause. “Have something to write with?”
“That’s a good boy.”
FORT LAUDERDALE
The Challenger-led convoy sped south on A1A and turned right onto Harbor Drive.
A well-kept old Florida motel. Two floors, fresh yellow paint, blue trim. Configured at acute, retro angles protecting a courtyard with lush tropical plants and picnic tables.
Serge hopped out. “This is our place! The fabulous Bahia Cabana!”
Serge checked in at the office across the street. They gathered again in the middle of the courtyard. “Here are your room keys…”
Serge stopped and stared up the street at a much more expensive resort.
“What is it?” asked Coleman. “The Girls Gone Haywire bus.”
“Girls Gone Haywire is here?“ said Coleman.”Cool!”
“Not cool,” said Serge. “They exploit children.”
“So why are you smiling?”
“Because I have an idea.” He turned back to the students. “Okay, I’ll need some help with the pickup truck.”
“What kind of help?”
“Our next spring break history stop-this one’s the best! Clear everything out of the back bed.”
“You got it.”
Students emptied trash and tools. Serge retrieved a duffel bag from the Challenger’s trunk and flipped down the pickup’s tailgate. He unzipped the bag and pulled out what looked like a giant plastic tarp covered with cartoon fish and octopuses.
“What’s that?”
“The commemorative revival of where it all started.” Serge laid it in the pickup’s bed, uncapped a clear tube and began blowing.
Nothing happened for the first minute. Students watched curiously. Then the plastic began taking shape, slowly unfolding itself with each breath, until it flopped open in a circle.
Serge continued blowing furiously. The circle began to rise. Serge began to slide down the side of the pickup.
“Serge, you’re hyperventilating! Take a break!”
Serge shook his head and clenched the tube in his side teeth. “Only way to inflate anything is all at once as fast as you can.” Blowing accelerated.
“Serge! Stop!”
“You’re going to hurt yourself!”
Bam.
“Serge fainted!”
Coleman ran over as air wheezed out the inflation tube.
Serge sat up with giddiness. “I see sparkly things.”
“Inflating stuff gets you high?” said Coleman. “I’m there!”
He took over where Serge had left off. Puffy cheeks turned scarlet. He fell on the ground next to Serge. “Sparkly things. Excellent.”
Students peered over the side of the truck. “A kiddie pool?”
Andy hid in one of the motel’s alcoves, dialing a cell phone. He put it to his head.
“Andy, what’s happening?” asked Agent Ramirez.
“I think Serge is inflating a kiddie pool.”
“Serge?”
“The lunatic I told you about.”
“I know all about Serge,” said Ramirez. “You have to get away from him immediately. He’s extremely dangerous.”
“I’m scared.”
“You should be.”
“What happened in Panama City?”
“Best to put it out of your head. The important thing is that you let me take you in. But we need to hurry.”
“Because there’s an informant.”
No answer. “Agent Ramirez?”
“I’m here.”
“Serge said there’s an informant. Is that true?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“Serge said if there’s an informant, then taking me in is the most dangerous time.”
“That’s why I’m personally going to escort you myself. I’ll be the only one you’ll meet.”
“You won’t have a giant SWAT team or something?”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but when there’s an informant, you never know,” said Ramirez. “That’s how they’ve been able to track you down the coast. I’m not sure who I can trust anymore.”
“Oh my God.”
“Andy, you have to keep it together just a little longer.” Ramirez looked out his car window at surf and palms. “I’m almost to Fort Lauderdale. Tell me where you are and I can pick you up in no time.”
Andy took a deep breath. “Okay, I can handle it.”
“Where are you?” asked Ramirez.
“Andy!” yelled Serge. “Where are you?”
“Shit!”
“Don’t hang up!”
Click.
Andy pocketed the phone as Serge came around the corner.
“There you are! What are you doing lurking back here?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on! You’re missing all the fun!” Serge looked left and right. “Just need to find a hose…”
Andy pointed behind the building.
“Glad to have you on the team.” Serge unscrewed the fitting and carried green rubber loops over his shoulder.
The rest of the students were waiting. Serge attached the hose to another nearby faucet and unrolled it back to the truck.
“You’re probably wondering, ‘What the heck is crazy ol’ Serge up to now?’ We’re at the finish line! All the way back to the beginning of our history quest! Or at least we will be when we get to the next stop.” He pointed the hose, and water splashed down into the bed of the pickup. “Spring break is one of the very few social phenomena where you can actually pinpoint the exact geographical location of its origin, latitude 26-06-59 north, longitude 80-06-19 west, the tiny bowl of primordial soup from which it bubbled to life. Now symbolized by our kiddie pool…”
Water reached the top of the first inflatable ring, then the second.
“… It all started just blocks north of here on the side of A1A when, in 1928, the city constructed the first Olympic-size pool in the state of Florida. It would have stopped there, except for the father of a student attending Colgate University in Hamilton, New York. Back then, they didn’t have many indoor facilities, and swim teams couldn’t practice in cold months.“ Water cascaded out the back of the pickup.”That dad was living in Fort Lauderdale and contacted legendary coach Sam Ingram, saying the team could gain an edge if they came down and worked out in Florida-”