The Five Year Plan (1998)

behind.

The chief said, 'It's all right. Everything's under control. No damage done.'

'I'm very glad to hear it,' said Dana. 'I'd hate to get this voyage started with a lawsuit against your company for negligent cargo handling.'

Jellicoe looked around and shook his head. Already she was confirming his worst fears for the crossing.

The chief laughed wryly and jerked a grimy thumb at one of the port stevedores. 'Might help if some of these dozy buggers could speak English. This bloody city gets more like Havana every time we dock.'

'Don't tell us,' said Rachel, climbing onto the Jade's coachroof where a sunpad big enough for half a dozen sunbathers was located. 'Tell that bastard Castro.'

When she had gone, the chief frowned and said, 'What's up with her?'

Jellicoe sighed loudly. 'Just get on with it, Bert,' he said. 'I'll be in my cabin.'

'All right for some,' grumbled the chief, then scowled at the stevedore standing on the sport-fisher's deck, an orange fender the size of an armchair lying uselessly at his feet.

'Hoi you,' yelled Bert. 'Are you going to sit on that bloody fender or put it over the side like you're supposed to?'

The man looked up at Bert, and said in Spanish, 'No comprendo. Mas despacio, por favor.,

'You what?'

A bare-chested Dave Delano came quickly out of the wheelhouse, slid down the roof onto the deck, and, while the stevedore was still debating the purpose of the fender and the meaning of the chiefs words, picked it off the deck and lowered it over the starboard side.

Bert waved and said, 'Bit more. OK that's enough. Tie it off.'

Dave wiped his forehead, and said, 'Thanks a lot.'

'No bother,' said Bert. 'Bloody hell.'

'What's up?'

'Your bloody stomach, that's what's up.'

Dave glanced at his own stomach and said, 'What about it?'

'Just look at it,' grinned Bert. 'It's like a bloody washboard. Look at mine.' He jerked his chin down at the large belly straining at the waistband of his white shorts. 'It's like having an extra limb wrapped around you in case of an emergency.' He laughed and slapped his belly hard with the flat of his hand. 'A lot of beer went into that. Here, I 'spose you've got one of them abdomenizers, have you? What a country this is for people worrying about their bellies. What goes in them, and what they look like. Every time I turn on the TV there's some bastard trying to sell you a flat stomach. Well, I don't 'spose I'll ever have one of those again. Certainly not like yours, mate, abdomenizer or not.'

Dave grinned. 'I don't have an abdomenizer,' he said.

'Well, how d'you do it, then? I mean, get the old six-pack stomach?'

'You have to be able to isolate the muscles when you exercise them,' said Dave. He might have added that the best way to do that was to isolate the man at the same time. Like maybe keep him in prison for five years. Homestead was full of guys with torsos that looked like they'd been drawn in an anatomy class.

Both men looked around as one of the pink ladies from the Jade came up on deck and walked off toward the bow of the ship. Generously hipped, she looked even more Amazonian than her captain. Bert grinned wolfishly and said, 'It's not bellies with

women, is it? It's their bottoms they worry about. Not that there's anything wrong with her butt. But for all I know, the buttockizer already exists. To give women smaller butts.'

As the Amazon finally disappeared, Dave shook his head and said, 'Now why would anyone want to do a thing like that?'

Bert laughed. 'Yeah,' he said, 'who'd want to do that, eh?'

Dave and Al watched as a diver came up from under the Juarista, having made sure that she was safely secured to the special support welded to the floating dock floor. Lashed tightly to the dock wall and carefully fendered against the boats to starboard and to stern, it was a snug fit and the boat looked as immovable as if she'd been mounted on a trailer and parked on a hard deck.

'Naturally you brought scuba gear,' Al said sceptically.

'Naturally.'

Al frowned, surprised at the apparent extent of Dave's efficiency. He said, 'Just don't expect me to go down. Takin' a bath's the only time I go in the water.'

Dave sniffed the air loudly. He said, 'Not so as you'd notice.'

'Wiseguy. I suppose you noticed how boxed in we are here. I thought you said we were going to try and be at the back of the boat so as we could make a clean getaway?'

'You go where that man and his clipboard tell you. A computer figures out all the positions according to the length and breadth of your hull. It would have looked kind of odd, us going up against the computer. Don't you think?'

Al said nothing.

Dave said coolly, 'It's like I told you already. When we're ready to rumble we'll just steal the boat that's nearest to the stern of the ship. That's what we call the back of the boat. You know, if you're going to pretend to be a boat captain it would help if you get a handle on the way we talk about this shit.'

'The only thing that's going to get a handle on it is your fuckin' head, wiseguy.'

'Relax will you, Al? The only thing's not under control round here is your temper. Take my word for it. We're cool.'

'I sure hope so. Tony don't appreciate hearing about the unexpected. I gotta tell him anything that happens out of the ordinary.'

Dave shook his head. 'Forget it, Al. It's radio silence from now on. Like we're in a submarine with Clark Gable, and some Japs are trying to get a sonar fix to drop a depth charge on our ass. You give Tony the broadcast news on our progress and I guarantee there are sixteen other boats in this man's navy who will pick it up on their radios. The same goes for your cellular phone.' Dave tossed him a quarter. 'You want to tell Tony something? Then I suggest you go ashore now before we set sail and use a pay phone. Because on this ship, it's silent running. Understand?'

Al glared at him.

Dave said, 'Look, I've got this all figured out. All the angles are in our control. About the only thing that can go wrong here is that you'll fuck it up with this "Tony don't appreciate" routine. What's got to happen here is that you and I have to get along and trust each other so that when the time comes to make the score, we're working as a team.' Dave shrugged. 'And if the unexpected does happen, we'll improvise. Flexibility is the key to our success here. Steady can go to random at any time. From our side, you and me Al, we're covered. Outside of that we've got the sea, we've got the weather, and we've got other people, all of which adds up to quite a lot that's random. We have to appreciate that and be ready for it. OK?'

'OK.'

'Now why don't you and I do something constructive? Like maybe take a little stroll around and acquaint ourselves with the layout of this oceangoing marina?'

'Good idea.'

'And try to look a little more user friendly and less like an argument for genetic engineering. Got our story straight?'

'I think so. You're some financial hotshot, right?'

'Right.'

'And a big motor-racing enthusiast. So we're on our way to Monte Carlo, for the Grand Prix they got down there. After which we're heading to Cap d'Antibes, in the South of France, where you've rented a house for the summer. Got some business associates from London coming down to join you there. Maybe take in another couple of races while you're in Europe, depending on how the business goes.'

'OK, what kind of financial hot shot?' asked Dave.

'Commodities. But I'm supposed to be a little vague about this, right?'

'Right. If anyone asks you just say it's some kind of metal, maybe copper, and leave it at that. They won't expect you to know any more.'

Dave moved toward the gangway and then turned back. He said, 'One more thing. The Coast Guard and Customs people will board us when we're ready to sail. So just so as I know, where'd you stash the Alamo?'