Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
absorbed the group of eccentric young adults. His ticket placed him in the aisle seat, next to his pretend soccer mom wife or whatever she was. She didn’t wait for him to get up and pushed across to the seat beside him. She looked straight ahead and flipped her hand toward him, throwing a rolled up program into his lap. It spun open and read The Phantom of the Opera.
During the brief update at the theatre, Hank had hung against the back wall and listened to the revised security plan. There had been no sign anything bad was looming. The rant by Megan Ward earlier at the hotel was perhaps an unfortunate initial impression. She confirmed she was a pissed off alpha female but also proved to be professional. She maintained the efficiency expected of the person in charge of making sure there were no incidents. After the details, she summarized the entire plan, rapid-fire, no pauses, no particular emphasis, and no discussion, and no further F-bombs. It was over in five minutes. In that time, she covered the basics in military spec—order and execution with the five Ds: deter, detect, deny, delay, and defend. She called out a hierarchy of three communication frequencies and said something about calling for a drone.
He could parrot the plans and procedure, but it made little sense to Hank. At the end of the briefing, he reviewed each of the key points in his head and suspected each person in the room was ready to repeat back a concise paraphrase of what they had just heard. She closed with, “The Ou family and a handful of tonight's guests will return on Olin’s super yacht, the Whale. We’re breaking down as soon as she returns to US waters tomorrow around noon. At that time the family's security will be turned over to Willy’s watchful eye. The guest-jet will have touched down at Paine Field and the kids up here with their helicopter parents will no longer be our problem.” Her eyes scanned in the room, and she closed with, “Good hunting.”
Hank had quickly turned his thoughts from the evening’s security plan to the play. It would be difficult not to pay attention to the gripping music and theatrical excess of the performance. Lost in the drama unfolding, he was not prepared for the intermission. The soccer mom van driver stuck an elbow into his ribs, so he shot up, stepped into the aisle, and shifted down just enough to let his row out. She gave him a scowl and led the colorful young partygoers up the aisle, girls arm in arm and boys single file.
Willy slipped in and walked next to Hank until they got to the corridor leading into the lobby. He stopped and redirected Willy’s attention by putting a hand on his shoulder. “Willy, what the hell am I doing here? Yesterday I was a sailing instructor. Now I’m wearing a kilt, hanging with rich kids, and carrying… something illegal in my pouch. What am I here for?”
“What do I look like—clergy?” Willy laughed. “Just relax. You’re here to get your feet wet. Enjoy the show.” Willy began to walk into the light, then stopped. His head cocked and one eyebrow raised. “Watch out for the little Japanese girl.” He lifted his finger to his puckered lips and made a shh sound. “She’s security.” With a smirk, he added, “Back to high school after college. Must be a real drag. She’s well-paid, but really—watch out. Remember Gogo in Kill Bill? Typecast.” He laughed as he pushed into the crowd.
Olin Ou stood with perfect posture, dressed in a long-waisted gray silk jacket top and loose matching pants, talking to Maria and another woman. His shoulders adorned with designs created by gold thread, ending in the chest where a line of gold piping and buttons coursed across to the right and straight down the side. Upon seeing Hank, he walked over. “How do you like the show?”
“Very much. Thank you.”
“We’ve got so much more to talk about. But tonight, I hope you will enjoy Irina’s birthday party.”
“I have no gift,” Hank offered. He wasn’t embarrassed but hadn’t even thought of the absurd notion until the words came out of his mouth.
Olin looked thoughtful, “Hank, if all goes well, you will give Irina far more than anything she will get here tonight. Now, please excuse me. I have to go.” Mr. Ou walked over to the bathroom line, to wait his turn just like everybody else. He queued right behind the big kid with the cowboy hat, just before the chime sounded to announce the end of intermission.