Spanky and Shelia (Waiting for Rick )

The Cold Ocean water lapped at the side of the rented fishing boat. A narrow wooden long boat with a 50 hp. out board motor, 24 feet long and a mere 6 feet wide it looked like a old canoe on steroids. The white paint was peeling fast, and the smell of dead fish was strong, Spanky hunkered down in the back, attempting to keep his body out of the wind. Shelia sat in the bow hunched over her cell phone/PDA, typing rythmatically on the tiny keyboard. He gritted his teeth, not from the cold, but to hold in the animosity that he held for the woman in the bow. If there came a time to ditch her and move on his own, he would do it in a heart beat. Right now they had a strained agreement, he was only to talk to her about the mission, and not ask questions. She in turn would leave him alone and never mention the incident at the hotel. The Morning seemed to get colder as the dawn approached, the wind changed directions and the boat strained againest its ropes, wanting to break free from the dock, almost as much as Spanky wanted free from her.
He looked again at the message Barett had sent him. It was basic but told him to have a boat ready on the English side of the channel. Rick was to contact him before the drop but to be ready, the location seemed a little too south of any good drop zones, and he had this sneaking suspicion that they were being cut out of the loop on purpose. At this point he could understand, it seemed like they had been dogged and shadowed this whole trip, and they didn't even have the package with them. It must have been quite the ride for Rick and Barett, being strangers to this land and all.
The Hotel incident was a lack of judgement call on his part mostly. They had gotten a small room and ordered in some food and wine saturday night, spanky had gotten some good German beer as well. After a whole bottle of wine and most of the 12 pack of beer he thought she was making some eyes at him, guess he had his beer googles on at that point. When she went to the bathroom claiming to " clean up for bed " he thought that was a code for a role in the hay. Stripping down to the buff he cleared the top of the bed off and lay there in all his glory when she came out. There was a moment of shock and curiosity, but then she just started laughing, but it was more than the laughing that really nutted him up. She kept spurting out between bouts of snorting laughs that he " thought they were going to have sex ". It was more than his ego could handle, she acted like he was beneath her, why would a goddess like her dirty the sheets with a commoner like him, her eyes seemed to say. Grabbing his cloths and half undressed, he stumbled out into the hall and down the stairs to the street. Stopping at the first bar he came to and drinking till his money was gone seemed like the right thing to do. The lock up was not in his plans, the small french police station smelled of stale coffee and puke. The drunk tank was full of fishermen sleeping off the spoils of a good catch. The french police were not intending to press charges and were just letting him sleep it off . His military ID at lest held some respect with these guys.
Spanky thinks that she was working off a little hangover herself when she started arguing with the duty officer. Spanky was out of the holding cell at this point, chatting with the officers in the breakroom about military stuff, and drinking coffee when she came in. He managed to calm her down just as they were about to cuff her and throw her in the cell. Thanking the officers and hauling her out the front door, he was surprised at her emotion, it was unlike anything he had seen from her before. After that she seldomed even looked directly at him, and spoke in unflatering language about him and the brothers when she did. I guess he couldn't blame her, but he didn't haft to like her. That was three hours ago, deciding to cross the channel then, they picked up the small boat at the dock and waited. Spanky suspected that the call from Rick would never come, and could see that would only add more tension to the fragile truce they had. What would he do then, only time would tell, but ditching her was starting to look better and better.

Leaving Paris ( Ricks harem grows )

Barett picks up and speaks back in Korean.

"It is good to hear your voice Younger brother. I too have drunken from the bitter water and chewed the salted meat, but not eat the dessert. However the princess is safe with me, and desires to meet her husband to be. (Time to deliver the package)

“Remember that the snake in the grass is sometimes the pregnant water-buffalo at your door. (He suspects everyone, even Maria) Sometimes it's best to eat an egg Mc Muffin at L'efes, but keep the big bird with small wings to yourself. I prefer the Calais in the North, A3 to A1 sauce at least a kungfu movie away. (He has a plane in Calais, meet at L'efes at breakfast 3-4 hrs away from Paris) You will see me soon, dressed as the bridegroom on his horse."

The line goes dead and Rick can tell Barett is not having the time of his life either, but these things always sound better when retold a few months later at least that is his belief. The pain-meds for PMS Maria gave him were starting to work (they were the only thing she had), and he was starting to breathe without as much pain now. Interestingly though, he was feeling an urge for chocolate and cupcakes.
Rick walked back into the living room and saw a large suitcase and several other bags by the front door. By the looks of them, both Maria and Monica had raided Carla’s closet as it was apparent that the only thing they could find were too small. Maria was in the middle of changing into gray sweat-pants that came up to her knees and a matching pullover jersey which must have been extra baggy on little Carla. Monica was wearing black spandex pants, jogging shoes and a gray and red jersey with a colorful college logo on the front.

Carla came into the room, dressed in a fancy black leather outfit that looked like it was a Paris’s socialites attempt to model motorcycle crash armor. It was obviously more runway fashion than anything that could be considered practical on the racetrack.

Carla handed Rick an armful of bags filled with food, then grabbed her suitcase and led the small group down to her car to stuff everything in. They left in a hurry but Maria convinced Rick and Carla that they need to swing by her hotel to pick up her other stuff and check out how things are shaking down at the club from a distance. Conveniently the hotel was the same place Rick had used to hide his gun and the rest of his equipment. The club area was such a mess with activity that it was easy for Maria to get in and out of the hotel. Rick was amazed that at her ability to slip out unnoticed with a load of shopping bags, his assault rifle tucked safely and hidden away from prying eyes.

It was now 1:50 in the morning and before long the four of them were out of Paris and heading North, Rick in the front passenger’s seat, Carla driving fast as usual behind the wheel, with Monica behind Rick, sleeping peacefully using the bags piled on her lap as a pillow. Maria was mostly quiet, smiling at Rick when he turned to see how she was doing. After thirty minutes or so, she too fell asleep.

The motor hummed its forgotten song and lolled Rick into some much needed sleep. Less than two hours later, with the back seat occupants snoring lightly Carla touched Rick’s cheek gently, waking him with a start.

"Senior Rick, perhaps we should talk about what we are going to do? Yes?" She said in a soft voice not wanting to wake the others.