David Dun - Overfall

Sam’s description, based on prior experience, proved remarkably accurate. They climbed in and watched the pilot stow their luggage on the backseat. The plane accommodated about fifteen passengers. There were four including Yodo.

“Tourism has never recovered here. Aussies come. New Zealanders come. But since the war on terrorism any country that’s had a coup in the last five years gets little tourism from the U.S.”

As they sat, the pilot climbed into the plane. “Bula,” he said. “Fasten your seat belts and read the information card.”

“That was succinct,” Anna said.

“Are you ready for this, Mrs. Brown?”

“Remember, I’m one of those wives who didn’t take her husband’s last name.”

“Yeah, I got that. You were born Brown. It was just a coincidence that you married a Brown.”

“So I’m Anna Brown-Brown.”

“Well, if you wanna be. If you’re just Anna Brown I could have taken your last name, I guess.”

“So where are we meeting ‘Aussie’?”

“Upon arrival. You’ll like him. He’s good, too. He knows the chiefs.”

Anna’s look said she didn’t understand.

“Fiji is controlled by a group of chiefs. Each island has its own, and together they form what we would call a committee. Although the country has a president, he’d best not cross the chiefs or he’ll find himself deposed. Aussie has made it a point to know most of the chiefs, especially the more powerful ones.”

“I hope this works.”

“I won’t lie to you. It could be tough. We’ve rushed this a bit.”

“I know you’ve done the best you can.”

“These things take a lot of planning.” Neither said anything for a moment.

“You’ll be at the airport when this goes down.” Sam saw a new strain in her face as soon as he said it.

To his surprise, though, she didn’t argue, but watched the terrain as they flew away from Nadi. To their right was the high plateau country, to the south the Nandrau, and more northerly the Rairaimatuku. Falling away from the mountainous plateaus grew jungle; scattered villages and dirt roads led to the sea and the lush river valleys.

They passed over the Vatu-i-ra Channel barrier reefs and myriad coral heads showing almost white in the azure sea. When they arrived, the landing was steep and fast. Anna squeezed Sam’s arm until they stopped on the tiny runway. Beside it stood a terminal that looked like a 1950s-vintage American gas station. Behind the terminal a two4ane road ran parallel to the runway, and to the far side a loosely strung wire cable the diameter of a silver dollar ran through the palm trees.

“You see the line there in the trees?” Sam asked.

That’s the power line?” Anna asked.

“No. There is no power line. Everybody with electricity has a generator. That’s the phone line.”

“Just hanging from the palm trees?”

“Pretty quaint, isn’t it?”

“There’s a man,” Anna said.

“Crapola,” Sam said.

“What do you mean?”

“There are several men. You picked the right one out of the crowd. You noticed his good looks. His confidence.”

“That’s Aussie?”

“None other.”

Aussie smiled at them with teeth like a white-board fence. Yodo nodded and Aussie nodded back.

Sam shrugged at Aussie, feeling Anna’s shoulder against his, the warmth of it, the way she was familiar to him, like a woman on a date.

And he liked it.

From the airport on Taveuni Island the road continued a mile or so in both directions before it turned to dirt. It was the one well-traveled road on the island, and European and American luxury homes as well as several small resorts lined the paved section.

Anna, T.J., and Sam were staying at the Coconut Palms, Sam and Anna posing as husband and wife. The grounds featured short-clipped grass flower beds, and burres spread amongst palms, breadfruit, kava, imported banyon, and tropical ornamentals. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. A pleasant scent hung in the warm humid air. The people seemed to nap on their feet, and even the bugs appeared tranquilized.

“There’s only one bed,” Anna said when they walked into the air-conditioned room. “Are we both going to sleep in it?”

“There’s a roll-away,” Sam said.

“Even if there weren’t and I were a vestal virgin, I would sleep like a baby.” She was checking out the closet.

“Because?”

“You haven’t figured any way to touch me with anything but your brain.”

Sam took her arm and turned her around. She came close to him, letting him smell her hair.

“Sam the frustrated man,” she said. “You needn’t worry. You have both your clearly delineated principles and your roll-away bed.”

She gave him a little mocking smile, but stopped short of closing the last two inches between them.

Flower scent came through the louvered windows and became part of the seduction.

“God, I want you,” he said.

“Tell me, which version of me is it that you want to sleep with?” She turned as if distracted by her suitcase and the shirts she was pulling from it.

Sam pulled out the roll-away and lay on it with an audible sigh, the moment lost, for now. Before he realized he had fallen asleep, he woke to Anna Wade in a blue sulu, the native wraparound skirt. Atop she wore a smart white blouse of raw silk. She was handing him another blue sulu.

“Put this on. Men wear these around here.”

Sam considered it, but found still too much of his dad left in him to seriously consider a garment that was in fact a skirt.

“You go topless and I’ll wear that.”

“Okay.” She began unbuttoning the blouse. “You’ve been wanting a look for days.”

“Wait. You don’t have to prove-”

“You wanna see my chest? Let’s just get it over with.”

“I was kidding, okay? I won’t mention it anymore.”

“Promise? Now put this on. I bought it for you when you were sleeping.”

“Crapola.”

“Don’t crapola me. Put it on.”

Aussie met them for dinner. He apparently felt it incumbent to give them the pan-Australian grin and wolf whistle. Anna smiled at Sam in his skirt.

“What?”

“You’re pouting. You’re actually pouting.”

“I don’t usually cross-dress.”

They ate dinner on an outdoor veranda, and the food was exquisite. Anna and Sam asked Aussie about his life, learned that he lived on Vanua Levu, just down from Suva Suva, in a house on a little acreage overlooking the ocean and Bakabaka Island. He was planning to use the money he made from this job to build a large, covered porch.

Finally Aussie pushed away his plate. “Look, I know you both need to talk some business, so how about I retire to the burre?”

Sam nodded, slightly relieved. In view of the impending drama, a threesome wouldn’t allow him to relate to Anna and her prejob jitters.

“If you’ll excuse me a moment.” Aussie smiled at Anna and pulled Sam aside.

“You know we could really use her in this. As one element of a distraction she’d be terrific. She’s an actor, mate. Dress her up in some skimpy doodad? Get my meaning?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said.

“You’re sweet on her, I know.”

The woman sizzles. I’m not the only man to notice.”

“Well, why don’t we ask her if she wants to help? It is her brother.”

Sam paused. Without good reason he did not let anyone, any time, change a plan just prior to execution. On the other hand it would keep Anna with them, save some resources, and reduce the amount of chance in the equation.

“All right. Part of the diversion before the show starts?”

“Exactly, mate.”

“I can guess what you have in mind,” Sam said.