The humidity was in the nineties, and I was sweating profusely. Let’s face it, I always got a bit nervous before the start, but this time I was scared. After all, this was the big one. We were approaching our destination now, and I knew the deadly traps that lay below. Hil looked calm, as did the two pilots flying the chopper. As we banked away from the ocean we flew at tree level, hiding behind the tall palm trees and then, suddenly, the whirling beast put itself down right in front of the dugout where V&C were huddling. The hatch opened and Hil ran out first, ducking the blades and I followed. We ran straight to them. By this time I was soaked but I knew we had them. Hillary shot straight and good, and I wasn’t bad either. Victoria and Charlie never had a chance. We won the Palm Beach mixed golf championship that day, and we’ve never looked back since.
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The Usual Suspects