credit card?"
"It's almost all I have left, if it still works after abandoning two rental cars," TJ sighed.
Dave led the way into a beachside restaurant. "We'd like breakfast on the terrace," he informed the uniformed young woman, who led them out the back to an umbrella topped table overlooking the beach.
"Shouldn't we sit someplace a little less conspicuous?" Rachel asked as she took his seat with the best view of the road.
He shrugged. "If it were dangerous, wouldn't I have warned myself?"
She glared at him. "Are you sure that's true? Because if it is, I'm a little upset that you let me be kidnapped."
"First TJ, now you. What are you worried about? We’re still alive, we've been having fun, and as soon as the CIA sees the bad guys load the bomb on the plane from the camera we installed, we’ll have saved the world too. I think you're both worrying too much."
"How can you be sure that the camera is still in place?"
"The future me, Dave 2, would tell me if it isn't," he replied, perusing the menu.
She shook her head, but said nothing. She just couldn't share Dave's confidence in his messages from the future. At best, they were chaotic, and sometimes they seemed almost sinister.
She heard the screech of brakes on the road, and saw an eastbound car stopped and backup.
"They've spotted us. We've got to get out of here. Follow me."
She ran from the table and descended the short flight of stairs to the beach where she scanned the area and took stock of the ground. There was no place to hide.
"Where do we go," TJ asked, joining her.
Rachel decided immediately. "There's only one place to hide, the water. Come on."
She ran down the beach and into the water until it was chest high. TJ was right behind her.
"What if they recognize us," TJ asked.
Rachel shook her head. "We can't take that chance. Can you swim?"
TJ nodded.
Get rid of your blouse and skirt," she ordered, kicking off her own shorts. "We have to swim for it."
"Hey," Dave called from the edge of the water. "I can't go in there, I'll get my phone wet."
"Forget about your phone and your ridiculous messages," Rachel shouted. “Get in here or you'll get us all shot."
He looked uncertainly at Rachel, and then back at the restaurant where two red-shirted men burst from the restaurant onto the terrace.
"Coming," he shouted run into the water.
"Lose your shoes and that ridiculous shirt," Rachel instructed. "We’re swimming out further."
She kicked off the bottom and began stroking. After 50 meters, she stopped and looked back. TJ was 20 meters back, doing a slow breaststroke. Dave swam along side, encouraging her. On the terrace, one of the men was talking on the phone while the other scanned up and down the beach. Suddenly the man with the phone pointed in her direction and yelled at his companion. Together they ran down the stairs to the beach.
"Can you swim underwater," she yelled to TJ and Dave.
"Sure,” Dave replied while TJ nodded.
"They may start shooting at us. Swim underwater for as long as you can, then come up for a quick breath. Don't stay above water for more than two seconds."
Then she dove under the surface and stroked forward powerfully until she thought her lungs would burst. Surfacing, she took a deep breath and dove again. Concluding she was a least 100 meters from the beach, she surfaced again to survey the situation.
She saw the two men at the edge of the water, pistols at the ready. TJ surfaced and the skinny man shot at her. The bullet hit the water to TJ's left. Then TJ slid under the water again.
The heavyset man sudden took aim at her, and she dove again. Overhead she heard a sharp slap.
She swam out further, surfacing three times before pausing to look back. The skinny man was sliding a new clip into his gun, while fatso looked nervously towards the restaurant. She treaded water until TJ and Dave joined her.
Why are you stopping," TJ asked.
"Even a good shot couldn't hit us at this distance, and Mutt and Jeff back there are not good shots."
"I'm sure someone at the restaurant has called the police," Dave said. "We just have to wait for them to arrive and then we swim back."
"Is that what Dave 2 told you," she asked.
He shook his head. "No, but it's the only option that makes sense."
"Well I disagree. Let's head for that sailboat," she decided, nodding towards a sailboat with furl sails another 200 meters out.
She struck out again, doing a slow side stoke. TJ followed immediately. Dave hesitated, then swam after them. A few minutes later, she approached the sailboat.
"Hello," she called.
A woman in a yellow bikini appeared at the rail.
"Monique," Dave shouted.
Fighting Back
Thursday 12:30 p.m.
Dave helped TJ up the ladder, then hauled himself into the boat. Monique gave him a kiss on each cheek and handed him a towel.
"It looks like I had a plan after all," he grinned at Rachel. "Monique, this is Rachel. Rachel, Monique."
"Some plan," Rachel muttered. "I'll bet you are arranged this all just to get three half-naked women on a boat with you."
"It wouldn't be the first time," TJ chimed in.
"Ladies, please. If changing the future were that easy, everyone would be doing it. Monique, let's get under way. We need to get far away from here."
He hoisted the Genoa, while Monique supervised Rachel and TJ in raising the mainsail. Soon they were reaching to the northwest at eight knots.
"They may still come after us," he said to Monique. "Let's find some other boats and blend in."
She nodded and adjusted the wheel, turning the boat a few points to starboard.
"I got everything you wished, the phone too," she smiled, withdrawing a small phone that had been tucked in her bikini bottom and handing it to him.
"Thank you," he replies studying the phone. "Remind me again what I ask you to bring."
"Clothes, medium for you, and women's clothing sizes zero and two, food, champagne, and one more can of petrol."
"Perfect," he said, kissing her quickly. "I'll get the champagne."
He descended the short flight of steps to the galley where he found a shopping bag with men's clothing. He heard Rachel and TJ conversing in the forward cabin. Opening the refrigerator, he discovered six bottles of champagne.
He returned to the cockpit with a bottle of champagne and four glasses. Popping the cork, he poured a glass and handed it to Monique, then poured another for himself.
"Here's to a job well done," he grinned, hoisting his glass.
Rachel and TJ came up the stairs wearing matching yellow sundresses. He handed in each glass of champagne.
"Ladies, we were just celebrating the completion of our mission."
"Jumping the gun as usual," TJ retorted. "Max is still a large, and we don't know if the camera is still in place."
He sighed. "TJ, I'm sure my future self has everything under control. I wouldn't arrange for the camera unless it was a plan that worked, now would I. And when the CIA sees the bomb, it's all over."
"Bomb? What bombs? We're stopping counterfeiters," TJ protested.
"I don't think Dave has told you the whole story," Rachel jumped in, eyeing him reprovingly. "The message from the future told him that an atom bomb destroys Washington, DC."
TJ stared at him in shock. "You bastard, how could you keep that to yourself. This is not a game. Millions could be killed."
"TJ, be reasonable. I'm not in the future now, but I will be. All I can do is trust that I'm making the right decision then, when I have the whole picture."
"Did you know about the bomb," TJ asked Monique.
Monique shook her head. "He hired me to help with the job, without explaining."
"I did," he said, surprised. "Oh."
I t
hought she just liked me.
"He gets messages from the future," Monique asked.
"Three days in the future he sends a message back to himself, right now, telling himself what to do," Rachel explained.
Monique's eyes widened in comprehension. "That is magnifique."
His new phone buzzed. It took him a moment to figure out how to display the message. He read it twice, then threw his champagne over the side.
"Monique, turn us into the wind," he ordered. "Where's that can of gasoline?"
"The locker next to the stairs," she replied, concerned.
He jumped down the stairs and found the locker and the gasoline. He hauled the can up the stairs to the cockpit. Monique had turned the boat into the wind and the sails were flapping noisily as the boat coasted to a stop.
"Good job, now all of you get below.”
He opened the spigot on the can and began to pour the fuel over the stern.
"What are you doing?" Rachel protested.
"I'd explain if there is time, but there isn't. Please get below, now."
He poured the last of the fuel into the water then jumped back down the stairs to the galley. He found the small cupboard door above the table and removed a flare gun. He inserted a flare and ran back to the cockpit.
He spotted the speedboat immediately, headed straight for them and closing fast. He set the flare gun out of sight behind an instrument console.
The boat slowed as it approached. A man climbed onto its bow and leveled a rifle at him.
"His hands in the air," the man shouted, gesturing with his rifle.
Dave hesitated a moment as the speedboat glided over the fuel slick. He started to raise his hands, then grabbed the flare gun and fired into the slick. The slick and the speedboat burst into flames.
He dived over the edge and swam underwater towards the rear of the speedboat. Surfacing, he found the