 
### OUT OF BOUNDS

### Match Play Championship

### Another Sports Thriller

by

JIM PLAUTZ

Copyright

ISBN 978-1-4523-7923-4

Smashwords Edition

09-12-2010

Created in USA by Custom Sports Novels

(www.customsportsnovels.com)

Additional copies of this book may be purchased from;

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### Characters

Out of bounds is a gripping novel of Corporate Finance, Drugs, and Politics, told in a backdrop of a highly competitive Golf Tournament. What starts out to be a two-day, 36 hole Match Play Club Championship between former friends, becomes a high stakes, life and death struggle with far-reaching consequences. The author has created a cast of intriguing, real life characters and themes.

### **Dave Bradford** was an 18-handicap player when he moved to Florida five years ago. His current 6-handicap and spot in the finals of the Club Championship is a testimony to hard work, and the tutelage of his friend and mentor, **Ken Reid**. **Buzz Peters,** his opponent, is a self-confident, and sometimes arrogant, four handicap golfer. Many believe he is closer to a scratch golfer. Once good friends, Dave and Buzz are now bitter rivals. The reader gains insight into the mind games that are part of a match play tournament.

Bradford is a CPA by background, and uses this training to develop a highly profitable Equipment Leasing and Commercial Mortgage business. This expertise is key to Mario Hernandez' plan to finance construction of a resort and casino in Mexico, particularly when a $90M drug shipment is mysteriously lost and Mario needs a new financing source. Dave hires **Ken Reid** and **Chris** **Lewis** , a Harvard MBA, to work on Mario's projects. They find a group of investors based in Zurich, Switzerland who will lend the money. **Sven Johansen** heads up the Swiss group assisted by **Dagfin Jensen** , his Chief Financial Officer. **Hector Armas** of the **FBI** works with the DEA to uncover the source of the Swiss money.

### **Mario Hernandez **lives the good life in Miami with a beautiful home, yacht and money. Mario is business partners with **Fred Shelton** in a string of "Shells Restaurants", but also is partners with Columbian drug figure, **Romano Montoya**. Romano and Mario have plans to build a string of casinos and resorts as a way to hide their massive drug profits. **Joe Martinez** , Florida D.A., interrupts these plans with the help of DEA agent **Steve Wilson** and an unknown informer. **Bill Martin** , a successful businessman and long time friend of Joe Martinez, uses all means available to finance Martinez' campaign for Governor.

### **Mary Cadence** , Dave's fiancée and soon to be stepmother to Dave's two children, Peter and Lisa, helps out in the business and is the backbone of the family. They are good friends with Fred and Judy Shelton; Buzz Peters and his fiancée, Jill; Mario and Gigi Hernandez; and Bill and Ginny Martin. These friendships are put to the test when Mary is taken hostage.

### Book One

### Club Championship

### Day One

CHAPTER 1

PAR 4, 380 Yards

NERVOUS

Don't whiff. This was the most important day of his life, at least his sports life, and all he could think of was "don't whiff". Ken's lectures about positive thinking were forgotten – all he could think of was making contact and not embarrassing himself. Hit the ball at least 100 yards.

Dave Bradford stood over the ball and fought to control his emotions. A myriad of thoughts raced through his mind. Perspiration beaded on his forehead and soaked into his glove. Every noise was amplified and every movement registered in his brain. He wanted to scream, "stand still and shut up," but knew it was just nerves. He couldn't concentrate. This was the finals of the Club Championship, but Bradford's thoughts wandered. Playing with Buzz rekindled a lot of bad memories.

Two weeks from today he and Mary were scheduled to exchange wedding vows on Captiva Island, one of the most idyllic spots on Florida's West coast. Everything was set. They had reserved 125 rooms for four days at the Tween Waters Inn; the Chapel and Old Captiva House restaurant had been reserved, wedding favors had been ordered and a myriad of other details had been addressed. Bradford smiled, realizing how lucky he was. It wasn't long ago when their relationships was on the rocks, partially a result of today's opponent.

Bradford struggled to regain focus. What would Tiger do? He smiled inwardly, as he visualized Tiger sweating over a 36 hole, Club Championship match. Better yet, what would his friend and mentor, Ken Reid, tell him to do when the golf demons crept into his mind?

Ken would say; "clear your mind and trust your routine." Ken had hammered this into Bradford at every practice session. "Dave, develop a routine and do it before each shot; every shot, even on the practice range. Something that you can use to block out everything but the shot in front of you; a routine that allows your muscles to relax and your mind to focus; a routine that allows you to block out the golf demons."

He stepped away from the ball and noticed a slight smirk on his opponent's face, but paid no heed. Bradford executed the routine that he had practiced every day for three months; step behind the ball and visualize the shot; clear his mind and address the ball; take one easy practice swing and let it rip. The result was beautiful.

Okay, maybe he didn't get it all. The drive was a little off the toe of the club, and from the high, left-to-right trajectory, his body was probably way out front when he made contact. But, to him, it was beautiful; 220 yards and in the fairway! Life is good!

Dave smiled as his thoughts drifted back five years ago to when he moved to Tampa to begin a new life. He was only 35 and had just started a new business. His two kids, Peter and Lisa, didn't want to leave Milwaukee, but had adjusted well. Bradford's parents lived in St Petersburg and helped immensely. It was tough being a single dad. Their mother, Susan, had passed away six months years earlier after a long, losing battle with cancer. It had been a tough time for everyone and they couldn't have coped without his parents' support.

Bradford met Mary Cadence a year later and she made an immediate impression on him – literally, she had made an immediate impression upon him. It was a semi-final match of a Susan G. Komen charity mixed doubles tennis tournament that Dave had agreed to play in. Dave had been paired up with Hilda, a 55 year old woman with a good serve and decent forehand. Dave considered himself a pretty good player although he hadn't played much since he lost his wife. Saturday they had breezed through their first round match and won a close match to reach the semis. Sunday morning they were paired against Mary and her partner, Angelo.

It didn't take long to see that they were overmatched. Angelo aced Dave twice in the first game and Mary was dynamite at the net. She also had a kick serve that Dave couldn't handle. Bradford and Hilda lost the first set 6-1 and trailed 4-2 in the second when it happened. Hilda was serving to Angelo at 15-30 when Dave decided to poach. The return was hit hard and Dave had little time to react. He lunged at the last split second got his racquet out in front of him and was rewarded when he felt the ball strike squarely in the middle of the strings. He was a little bit late and could only watch as the ball veered directly at Mary's chest.

Mary was playing a typical doubles position, just inside the service line and half way between the doubles line and service line. She wasn't as tight to the net as a beginner might play, but was positioned close enough to pounce on a weak volley, and back far enough to protect against a lob. Mary had demonstrated earlier that she could put away the overhead.

Dave wasn't thinking about any of this as his volley veered towards Mary. He feared the worst. He knew he had hit the ball hard and inadvertently broken the cardinal rule of club-level, mixed doubles. The man doesn't take cheap shots at the woman. To his credit, Dave's thoughts were only for her safety as he waited for the sickening sound of ball hitting flesh. Dave had been nailed himself a couple times and knew it would hurt.

Events unfurled in slow motion in Dave's mind, but fortunately not in Mary's. Her mid-sized Prince racket was held high in front with the strings facing to the sides. She used a continental grip making it easier to switch from forehand to backhand and to quickly react to volleys to either side. Her eyes were straight ahead, waiting to pick up the flight of the service return when the ball came past her left shoulder. She heard the pop of her partner's return and her muscles tensed. She also saw the guy beginning his poach and reacted instinctively. Countless lessons as a kid and years of experience taught her what to expect. Good players are more difficult to read, but this guy wasn't a good player. He wasn't bad, but wasn't about to do anything fancy like softening his grip to hit a drop shot. No, this guy would slam the ball hard up the middle or angled at her feet. She automatically changed her body position slightly to the left and changed to a backhand grip. She was ready.

Dave feared the worst and was momentarily caught off guard when the woman dropped her left foot behind her, leaned backwards to allow her racquet to get in front and volleyed behind him to the open court. He marveled at her athleticism before realizing the point was not over. He still had a chance. Bradford was more of an athlete than a tennis player and stopped on a time, reversed direction and lunged for the ball. He did well to get his racquet on it but was disappointed to see the ball pop weakly into the air. Mary closed in for an easy overhead. What happened next is a matter of interpretation and still a continuous bone of contention.

"You just stood there, like a deer in headlights," Mary argues. "Then at the last second you moved to your left."

"You were just mad because you thought I tried to hit you with the volley," Bradford responds.

"That may be true, but I wouldn't have hit you if you hadn't moved, at least not there."

Nobody disagrees about what happened. It might have been a solid overhead mixed with a little revenge, but the ball caught Bradford square on his noggin leaving a Penn 2 logo imprinted on his forehead. He collapsed like a giant redwood felled by one might swing of Paul Bunyan's axe. He landed with a thud and for the next 30 seconds saw nothing but stars. Bradford slowly regained full consciousness and looked up at Mary, standing over him with tears glistening in her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

Bradford tried to make a joke, but all he could do was mumble incoherently. His only thoughts were how beautiful this woman was.

"You got me," Dave said sheepishly.

The following week Bradford asked Mary to a movie and the two have been an item ever since. Three months later Mary began to spend most weekends at the Bradfords, an arrangement that soon evolved into a full time gig. Dave's kids, Pete (12) and Lisa (10), accepted Mary and grew to love her almost as much as he does. That was important to him. The kids need a mother but it was too soon for Dave to consider marriage. He had fallen in love with Mary, but his memories of Susan were still too vivid. They agreed to wait.

Six months later he had a heart to heart talk with Pete and Lisa. He wanted to make sure they understood that Mary was not a replacement for their mother and that she would always have a special place in his heart.

"Are you kids okay with Mary and me getting married?"

"Dad, it's about time."

The following weekend Dave proposed to Mary on a beautiful beach on Captiva Island.

Mary said yes.

Buzz Peters strutted confidently to the tee and set up for his drive. He looked like a golfer. At 6'-2", 220 pounds, he could nail a golf ball. Club champion for the last two years, plays to a four handicap, but he always seems to shoot 70 or 71 if there was money on the game. There was a "Buzz" at every club. But, to his credit, he was quite a golfer. Bradford had played with him several times in a Saturday foursome, and was always impressed with his game. He seemed to have every shot. The last time they played together Peters shot 73 despite taking two penalty shots, eight strokes better than Bradford's 81. If Peters had a weakness, it was his supreme confidence in his ability; some club members called it arrogance. No shot was impossible.

Buzz took little time over his tee shot; one small waggle and he launched a long draw that landed near Bradford's drive, and took off. Florida fairways are hard in October. The summer rainy season with almost daily afternoon thundershowers was over. The ball rolled more than 60 yards after bounding wildly off the firm fairway. The advantage of a draw versus a slice, he thought, but in the back of his mind knew it was more than that. However, it was no time to get negative.

Buzz high-fived his friends as he walked off the tee and said something that Bradford couldn't quite pick up. A couple of them laughed and glanced his way. That was Buzz.

Bradford got into his golf cart, alone with his thoughts. Mary wasn't here today; she was playing Buzz' fiancée, Jill, in the finals of the club tennis championship. He did have a dozen friends in the small crowd; mostly club members that were pulling for him. Their support was appreciated.

Players are basically alone on a golf course. Pros have a caddie to help them read putts, calculate yardages to the pin, and provide support. Caddies even make sure that there are only 14 clubs in their bag, although Ian Woosman found out the hard way that isn't always the case. He was assessed a 2-stroke penalty at the British Open for a 15th club. He had taken two drivers to the practice tee and the extra club was not removed. Woosman handled the situation gracefully, but was soon looking for a new caddie.

The pro-caddie relationship is different with each player and caddie, but there is one constant; SUPPORT. Watch the caddies on TV, and notice the last thing they say before the pro hits the next shot. It's a positive comment, isn't it; Yep, I agree; an easy nine-iron will do it; and so on. You never hear something like; Good luck; watch out for the water on the left, remember last week when you sliced it into the woods, don't over swing. Don't look up too soon.

If the caddies don't say it, why does every 15 handicap "think it" before each shot? Sure, part of it is that the 15-handicapper gets a lot more negative feedback than a professional. "If they hit all the bad shots that we do, their caddies would warn them too." That's the rationale.

That's our excuse. Ken would say; it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Think negative thoughts and they will happen. "Clear your mind and trust your routine." Today will be a major test of this philosophy. Bradford wanted so much to be positive and enjoy the day, but so much was happening in his life. It was difficult to concentrate. This afternoon he had a 4:00 flight to Cabo San Lucas for a critical meeting. He hoped Ken had been successful in Zurich.

"Hey Dave, I do believe you are away," someone shouted, and brought Bradford back to the task at hand. It was Buzz, who was standing near his drive, which was at least 50 yards closer to the green. "We can measure and ask for a ruling but you are away," Buzz continued sarcastically.

Bradford was irritated but kept his composure. Part of him wanted to reply in kind, but he knew that would be playing into Buzz' hand. The constant needling was his way. In fact, he probably didn't even realize how irritating it was to most people; this type of humor was so much a part of him. Stay focused!

"I'll play," Bradford replied, and proceeded to evaluate his options. Luckily this was a short 380-yard hole and the short drive had not hurt too much. The white, 150 yard, fairway marker, was approximately 20 yards ahead. The pin placement was "front-left", leaving approximately 160 yards to the pin. Despite a slight left-to-right wind, the bunkers on the right should not be in play, unless he hit a bad slice. _"There I go again, thinking bad thoughts."_

Although Bradford had reduced his handicap from 15 to six in the past year, he was still not a good long iron player. The Wilson Fat Shafts had helped, but he still tended to "pick" the ball off the fairway rather than hit down and through the ball. He selected six iron and went into his routine, part of which is to visualize a successful shot.

Half way into the back swing, the golf demons took over. Instead of a clear mind, there was a conflict between "slow-slow-slow" and "do you have enough club" and "trap on the right." The result was an abbreviated back swing and a quick downward move to the ball. He came out of the shot early and the result was all too familiar; short and right. He was lucky it was short of the sand trap, about 10 yards short of the green. He still had a chance for par.

Buzz had 110 yards to the pin, and selected a wedge, probably a sand wedge. He struck it cleanly, creating a divot that pros would be proud of. The ball landed 10 feet long, took the spin, and curled back towards the pin. For an instant it looked good but the ball missed the pin by inches and ended up five feet below the hole; a makeable birdie putt. Wow, he's good!

Bradford's attitude slowly improved. He realized that all he could do was play his own game; if Buzz was on his game, good for him. He was the better golfer and would probably win. However, this was match play, not "stroke play." Bradford only needed to win more holes, not beat Buzz' total score. Match play is a great equalizer. Higher handicap golfers hit more bad shots, and end up with sevens and eights. This only costs you one hole in this format. In stroke play, a triple bogey might cost you the match.

The chip was from about 40 feet, and relatively easy. With the pin up front, Bradford decided to land a pitching wedge just over the fringe and let it run to the hole. Up and down for par. This was the strength of his game.

He executed the shot and for a moment it looked like it was going in. The ball landed perfectly, released and stopped inches short of the hole. He tapped in for his par 4 and some polite applause from his friends. As he waited for Buzz to putt, Bradford wondered; " _did I hit a good "chip shot" because I was confident, or was I confident because I have hit so many good chips before? Ken says that golf is at least 80% mental. He might be right."_

Buzz had a straight in putt for birdie. It would be surprising if he missed. He didn't. Bradford was "down one," with 35 to play as the small group made their way to the second tee. Bradford's thoughts drifted. " _I wish Ken were here."_

The tall American gave the hostess their names and asked for a table for four with a view of the marina. He was dressed poorly for a Friday night in the nicest restaurant in Cabo San Lucas, even for an American. Blue jeans, golf shirt and tennis shoes were not acceptable. A sport jacket didn't change his overall, grungy look. The young lady was dressed well and was quite attractive, but he... shabby was the word.

The hostess was about to inform him that it would be at least a 90 minute wait when the man placed a crisp $50 bill on her reservations book.

The hostess hesitated, but reacted predictably. "We can have a table within 15-20 minutes; would you care to wait in the bar?"

"That will be fine." The man turned to the attractive lady. "Come on, Chris; let me buy you a drink and bring you up to date. We have something to celebrate."

The hostess watched the couple head for the lounge and hoped she had made the right decision. The $50 was nice, but she had an uneasy feeling.

Chris followed him to the lounge. She wasn't sure this was a good idea. "Ken, let's be careful. I suggest we keep a clear head and see what Alberto and Pedro have to say. They might have more bad news. There will be plenty of time to celebrate later."

"Double scotch and water, bartender, and a glass of chardonnay for the lady. We'll be at the table in the corner." Ken wasn't heeding Chris' warning.

Ken pulled a two-page outline from his briefcase as they waited for the waitress to bring their drinks. "Chris, relax; there is nothing to worry about. Take a look at this. Our friends in Zurich have given us everything we asked for, and more. Mario will be ecstatic when he sees this."

Chris looked over Ken's summary of the meeting while the waitress served the drinks. She couldn't believe what she was reading. Ken had just returned from a 2-day meeting with Mario's financial partners in Zurich, people that Bradford's firm had brought to the table. The project was two months behind schedule and over budget. They needed more money and more time to repay the original loan. Without the additional funding, the Phase II would need to be aborted. There would be hell to pay with Mario and his Miami partners.

"This can't be right, Ken. Are you telling me that they will give us the $240 million to complete the three Phase II projects plus another $200 million to start Phase III – wow?"

"That's right, and all they are asking is to increase their stake in the deal from 33% to 49%. Mario's group keeps control. By the way, our 1% commission is a cool $4.4 million; not a bad weekend's work for a small-town country boy."

Chris ignored Ken's small-town country boy description; she knew better. Ken was raised in Chicago and had a Wharton MBA. Still, she couldn't believe what Ken was saying. She had been working with the Swiss auditors the entire week and there had been nothing but bad news. After three months of operations the casino was making money, but it appeared someone was skimming profits off the top. The Swiss audit team would recommend tomorrow that all future funding be delayed until they did a complete audit. Dinner tonight with the casino people was initially intended to be a glum evening, providing an opportunity to devise a strategy for tomorrow's meeting. Ken's information changed everything.

"Was Sven aware of the audit results when he made this commitment?" Chris couldn't help remembering how adamant Sven had been that evening at Petermann's Kunststuben in Zurich; "no more funding until we see some results."

"Yep, that's why I asked Alberto and Pedro to join us tonight. They'll have a chance to present the offer to Mario before tomorrow's 2:00 PM meeting. In fact, speak of the devil, here they are now."

"Alberto, Pedro, buenas noches amigos. It's great to see you again."

"Your Spanish still needs a little work, Ken, but we don't mind as long as you bring the beautiful Senorita with you." They shook hands and gave Chris a warm hug.

At that moment the hostess appeared and informed them their table was ready. Chris was fond of both Alberto and Pedro, but was still apprehensive as they walked to the table. It struck her that Ken wasn't as happy as he should have been after coming back with such great news. He had not shaved and it was clear that something was bothering him. He was wired on something and it wasn't drugs. What had happened in Zurich that he wasn't mentioning? She wished she had the opportunity to talk with Ken privately.

Chris would never get that opportunity.

CHAPTER 2

Par 4, 430 yards

Dinner at the Country Club

The sleek, 38' fiberglass cigarette racing boat, equipped with 750 horsepower Twin Chiefs engine, glided smoothly across the calm seas and warm, tropical Atlantic waters. The night was overcast and a storm was due tomorrow, but waves were less than two feet. There was no moon and a thin layer of clouds blanketed the stars. The boat was virtually invisible from prying eyes and orbiting satellites. It was a perfect evening.

Juan was nervous. This would be his last trip. For eight months, he had made this trip without any problems. It was time to quit and go back to being a fisherman and guide. The money helped support his wife and seven small children, but he did not like these people. He clutched the cross of Jesus which he always wore under his shirt, and said a silent prayer.

"How much longer?" his passenger calmly asked. The boat carried $40M of heroin stored below deck; $40M was wholesale price. The shipment would be cut and sell for five times that amount on the street to a hungry public, whose demand for heroin was insatiable. The man knew this shipment would not make it to the street, but it would make him a rich man.

"Those lights on your right are Key West. We are in the Gulf and should be at the drop point in 20 minutes." Assuming ten minutes to unload the cargo, and two hours to get back, he would be home with his beloved Maria by dawn.

The plan was always the same. The heroin was packed in watertight canvas bags and attached to buoys that would float just under the water surface. They left the small fishing village around 10:00 PM and made the 80-mile trip in a couple hours, depending upon the weather. Once underway, the man received a phone call giving them the drop point. Juan locked the coordinates into his state-of-the-art Loran navigational system. Rain, fog, whatever; he would find the drop point.

"Okay, Juan. I'm going to start bringing up the bags. Let me know when we are close. Make sure you check your radar for traffic. We don't want any visitors."

They carried eight bags this trip, each bag weighing only twenty pounds, making them easy to handle and reducing their loss if a bag was lost. No bags had ever been lost. The man checked each bag to make sure the buoys were securely fastened. He double-checked to verify that the transmitters were working and calibrated to the right frequency. Everything looked good. The pick-up boat should have no problem locating the heroin.

The boat was slowing. "We are almost there, senor; two minutes or less. There are no other boats in the area." The radar did not detect the scuba diver swimming lazily toward the drop point at a depth of 10 feet.

In seven minutes, the eight bags were overBoard and submerged just beneath the surface, held together by weighted buoys and tethered by a 250 pound anchor. The man checked the transmitters once more. "Okay Juan, good job. Let's go home."

But Juan would never make it home or see his Maria again.

The honeymoon was over. The golf course begins to show its teeth. The 2nd hole is tough; a 430-yard dogleg right to a well-bunkered green. Protected "wetlands" line the right side of the fairway; an automatic one-stroke penalty. Local rules prohibited golfers from entering "wetlands" even if they can see their ball. Two deep fairway bunkers, approximately 230 yards from the tee, protect the corner of the dogleg.

There are three options off the tee. Long hitters can drive the bunker leaving a short iron to the green if successful. This was not an option for Bradford. Shorter hitters, and the more conservative longer hitters, can either lay up short of the bunkers or hit a power fade around the dogleg.

A perfect lay-up still leaves almost 210 yards to the green. Bradford pulled driver and decided to be aggressive. The hole set up well for him. His natural ball flight is left to right which fit the contour of this fairway.

Buzz had "honors" as a result of his birdie on one. He was a long hitter and could carry the bunkers with a perfect drive, although the penalty for missing was severe. Today a slight wind was in their face, only about five MPH, but still a factor. Buzz' natural draw would not serve him well on this hole. He would need to start his ball over the "wetlands" and let his draw bring it back to the fairway. His overspin would only help if he flew the bunkers. He was undecided.

As Bradford waited for Buzz to make his decision, he wondered whether Ken had been successful in Zurich. They needed the money by Monday or... he didn't want to think about it but knew it would be bad. " _How did I ever get into this position? Greed and stupidity were part of it. I should never have accepted Mario's offer; but it sounded so good at the time."_

It started that evening almost three years ago when Dave and Mary went to the club for dinner to celebrate their six month anniversary, it had been six months since Mary drilled him with the overhead and traces of the Penn 2 logo still remained on his forehead.

The evening had been perfect. They sat at the bar for a before-dinner cocktail. Mary almost always drinks wine, usually chardonnay. Dave usually started with bourbon before switching to wine with dinner. But tonight was special. They started with Grey Goose vodka martinis, straight up with a twist and an extra olive. Mary liked the olives best, and the idea that she was sipping a martini. It seemed special.

Mary looked especially beautiful that night. Her auburn hair was shoulder length with a slight flip. Black was her color. The small diamond stud earrings glistened when she turned. Mary had recently celebrated her 30th birthday, but age had done no damage to her slim figure; in fact, most of her friends believed she was even more beautiful now.

The club had a small combo on weekends; a piano and bass saxophone playing soft dance music. No one was dancing but the music created a nice atmosphere. Dave and Mary finished their martinis and were seated. They switched to their normal drinks;

"Kendall-Jackson Reserve Chardonnay for the lady, and Wild Turkey with a splash of water for me," Bradford told the waitress. The Turkey was vintage, 101 proof, and he made a note to pace himself.

Dinner was excellent; a tender, medium-rare filet mignon for me, and baked salmon on a plank for Mary. The chef had previously worked at Le Bordeaux, one of Tampa's finest restaurants, and had a special knack for presentation. The plates were painted with spices and herbs. Salads were garnished with twisted carrot slices and cut tomatoes. Asparagus spears covered with a special cheese sauce, framed the entrees. The chef offered all the little touches that elevated the dinner to fine dining.

The couple talked about the little things couples talk about when they are still learning about each other and finding their relationship. They were not yet in love, but neither was ruling out the possibility. Mostly they were glad to be together.

They opted for coffee after dinner and skipped dessert. The meal had been too good. It was 10:00 PM and the restaurant was starting to empty. The couple sat back and listened to the music. Several groups had made their way to the bar and a few couples were dancing. That's when they met Buzz.

He was at a table of eight on the other side of the dining room. Dave had probably had been aware of them earlier, but hadn't really noticed them until now. Two or three faces looked familiar. The group was having fun and getting louder.

Buzz came over and introduced himself. Apparently one fellow recognized Dave from the men's club and one of the women had noticed Mary on the tennis courts.

"Care to join us for a nightcap?" Buzz invited.

"Sure, why not," Dave responded after checking with Mary.

Crack! Buzz had selected his driver and was going to try and fly the bunker. A risky shot, but certainly doable. It looked perfect in the air, but seemed to stall as the wind gusted. The ball hit an invisible wall and lost momentum. It missed clearing the bunker by inches as it caught the lip and fell back into the deep sand. Loud profanity emanated from the tee box. Buzz would have a 200-yard shot out of a bunker rather than a short iron into the green. Who says golf is fair?

Since Buzz was in trouble Bradford reconsidered his decision to use driver. A three-wood would be safer and would insure a score of no worse than bogey. Buzz would have trouble making four. Bradford knew the odds, but felt confident and went with driver.

He chose a conservative line away from the bunkers. A straight drive would leave a longer, but manageable 2nd shot into the green. A pull or hook would leave 220 yards and a likely bogey. Not to worry. He caught this one on the screws with a slight fade, exactly how he had visualized the shot in his setup routine. It landed 20 yards short and to the left of the bunker and rolled well inside the 200-yard marker. " _A 250-yard drive, into the wind; I can't hit it any better than that."_

Buzz had a tough decision. He was deep in the bunker and six feet below the lip, about 190 yards to the front of the green. There was trouble all along the fairway on the right. He would need a 4 or 5-iron to reach the green, but the low trajectory of a long iron might not clear the top of the bunker.

Dave's drive put pressure on him because it looked like Dave would par the hole. If Dave had lain up off the tee Buzz probably would have played safe and hit a 7 or 8-iron to make sure he got out. He could then par the hole by getting up and down from 100 yards. This might still be his best play.

Buzz gambled and tried to reach the green with a 4-iron; a low risk shot that you would only attempt in match play. He almost pulled it off. The 4-iron barely grazed the top of the bunker and veered off into the wetlands, about 150 yards from the green. He would be hitting his fourth shot after he dropped.

Bradford was 173 yards to a back-right pin, tucked in behind a deep sand trap. He wanted no part of the trap and aimed his 5-iron for the left side of the green. The ball ended up a little closer to the pin than intended, leaving a 15-foot birdie putt. Buzz would have to hole his 4th shot to tie. He wasted no time and sailed his 8-iron into the bunker and conceded the hole. For practice, Dave went ahead and putted for birdie. Of course it was good. The match was all-square after two holes. " _Ken would have been proud."_

CHAPTER 3

Par 4 – 360 Yards

The Beginning

Bradford had "honors" and selected 5-wood. The third hole was a severe dogleg left with tall pine trees bordering both sides of the fairway. A tee shot between 180 –220 yards would leave a short iron into a small green. Anything longer or hooked left or short of the dogleg, is dead. The third hole is all about accuracy and little about length. He tried to cut the corner in his last practice round and caught a tree, and was forced to pitch out to get a view of the green. Today he overcompensated and barely caught the right side of the fairway leaving a 175 yard second shot into the green.

Buzz split the middle of the fairway with a 4-iron and rolled just inside the 150-yard marker. "I'm glad I didn't use a 5-wood, it would have been way too much club." Buzz spoke to no one in particular, but his message was clear.

Dave thought of what Ken would be telling him if he were here. "Play within yourself. Your opponent is the golf course, not Buzz." Good advice, but difficult to remember sometimes.

Dave's 4-iron barely made the front of the green. Buzz's 8-iron was pin high, seven feet from the hole; advantage Buzz. Dave's 35-foot uphill putt came to rest about three feet from the hole. He was tempted to putt out before he had a chance to get nervous, but decided to mark and put pressure on Buzz to make birdie.

As Buzz lined up his putt, Bradford thought back again to that first night at the club.

Dave and Mary followed Buzz to his table where he made the introductions. "Everybody, I would like you to meet a new member, Dave Bradford, and his friend, Mary Cadence. What's it been, Dave, six months or so since you joined?" Dave nodded and Buzz went on with the introduction.

"This is my good friend, Jill. Mary, you might have seen Jill on the tennis courts. The women greeted each other warmly. "To Jill's left are Mario and Gigi Hernandez from Miami; Fred and Judy Shelton who own a few restaurants in the area; and Bill and Ginny Martin. Bill and his wife Ginny happen to own this fine establishment. Grab a couple chairs and let's get you a drink.

Dave and Mary squeezed in between Buzz and Judy Shelton, ordered a beer and a KJ chardonnay. It was a gregarious group and they made the newcomers feel welcome. With ten people, there were usually at least two or three conversations going on simultaneously. The men were talking football with Mario trying to defend the Miami Dolphins against Buzz and Bill who were Tampa Bucs season ticket holders. It was comical.

Buzz: "Tampa has the best defense in football, bar none. Defensive line, linebacker, defensive backs; name one weakness."

Mario: "The defense needs to be good, because the offense never scores. The best you can hope for is a zero-zero tie. Besides, Miami's stats are much better; points allowed, defense against the run, you name it. What did the Eagles call them after they wiped them in the playoffs last year; 'paper champions'? They remind me of consultants; they keep telling us how good it's going to be but never deliver. Everyone is a pre-season all pro but you never get past the first round of the playoffs."

Bill: "At least our quarterback doesn't throw five interceptions."

Mario: "Your best quarterback was color blind. He never threw an interception; he just threw to the wrong jersey and never knew it."

Bill: "Let's can the Testaverde jokes. He's with the Jets. Good riddance."

"What do you think Dave," Fred asked? "Are you a Bucs fan?"

Dave was on the spot and he knew it. Being from Wisconsin, it didn't take a genius to figure where his heart was. Green Bay Packer fans are as loyal as they come. Not only was there the Packer tradition, Brett Favre was the best quarterback in football and the most fun to watch. He drives you crazy with his interceptions, but no Packer fan would trade him for any other. Dave decided to side step the question if possible; "I'm a new Buc fan and are hoping to see a few games this year. My company has thought about using them to entertain clients, but tickets are hard to come by. Does anybody know where we could pick up some decent seats?"

"Call me Monday" Fred offered. "I might know where you could get some tickets, or better yet, you could beg Bill for an invitation. I heard he has a luxury box, although I have never been invited, so it might just be a rumor."

"I invited you three times and you always have some lame excuse, like you had plans to go fishing. With all the grouper and bass you claim to have caught, I have never been offered any. I'm still eating salmon from Publix."

"You let me know when you want to go and I will hand deliver your invitation. That goes for you too, Dave; just let me know and I will get you an invite. In fact, I know we have at least four tickets available for the Rams a week from Sunday. What do you say, Fred? Dave? Are you game?"

"You can count me in," Dave replied. "Sounds great."

"Fred, how about you?"

"I'm not sure we can make it, Bill. I think Ginny's rose garden club is getting together that day. Besides, are the Rams any good this year? I heard their offense is hurting. It sounds like a pretty boring game. May I bring a book?"

Bill was getting upset, until Buzz piped in; "Fred, you are so full of it. You had us going until you asked to bring a book. Everyone knows that all you ever read are menus or wine lists. You haven't read a book in 20 years."

Fred, who was a little portly, burst out laughing, holding his ample waist line to reduce the jiggling. "Bill. I thought you were going to cry. Tell you what; it's a great offer, Judy and I would be glad to come on one condition. Let me cater the halftime buffet from one of my Shells restaurants. I will put on a seafood spread that will make your mouth water just looking at it."

"It's a deal, Fred. It looks like this is as close as I'll get to tasting fresh seafood. Just let my secretary know what you need in the way of set-ups. All the beverages are already there."

"How about if I bring the wine?" Bradford asked. "I just joined this new wine club and it would be fun to select a few whites and light reds to compliment the menu."

Bill wouldn't hear of it. "You are our guests, and besides, I've been to Fred's restaurant and his seafood is so good that it will taste good after six beers. I can testify to that."

"Dave; You mentioned entertaining clients. What is it you do?" Mario piped in unexpectedly.

Bradford was surprised by the abrupt change of direction in the conversation and was about to reply when Mary interjected; "Dave is in charge of new business development in Florida for a well-known government agency," she said with a twinkle in her eye. Dave had no idea what she was talking about, but by her smile and giggle he knew it was Kendall-Jackson doing the talking. He decided to stay out of it and let her have her fun.

Mario took the bait and asked; "which agency, Mary and how does Dave identify business prospects?"

"Mario, it's supposed to be a secret, but we are all friends here so I can tell you. Dave is with the IRS. Has he asked you for your business card, Mario?"

Bradford almost died with embarrassment and so did Mario. Bill, Fred and Buzz just looked at Mary and then Dave. Nobody knew what to say.

Mary wasn't finished and started to talk about how hard it was for Dave to keep friends and that he always needed to move, when Judy burst out laughing and was immediately joined by Jill and Ginny. Mario realized that he had been had, and erupted in laughter. He laughed so hard his face turned red, before admitting; "Lady, I haven't been set up like that since, I can't remember. That was beautiful, and I don't think I was the only one that fell for it."

Judy looked at Fred. "You guys were so wrapped up in your macho football talk, that you haven't said a word to us in 30 minutes. Mary said she knew how to get your attention, but we never dreamed it would be that much fun. I thought you all had swallowed poison the way you reacted. Fred, do we have that much to hide?"

Dave decided to answer Mario's question before the ribbing went any further. "Mario, we are in the money business, but what we do is a lot less exciting than what Mary described. We basically raise money for commercial clients; mortgages, equipment leases, project financing, business loans and that type of thing. Nothing fancy, but it's a way to make a living and a lot safer than being a recruiter for the IRS."

Before anyone could reply, the lights were turned on, a subtle clue that the club was closing.

We thanked everyone for their hospitality and said our goodbyes. Bill suggested Dave call his secretary to get instructions on how to get into the Bucs game next Sunday. Buzz suggested stopping at a local club for a nightcap. The others were interested but Mary and Dave decided to call it an evening. The "party" broke up soon after.

Bradford's mind shifted back to the problem at hand as he watched Buzz' birdie putt stop two inches short, dead center. Nothing bothers a golfer more than leaving a birdie putt short. Buzz was no exception. Before Bradford could concede the putt, Buzz walked up and swatted it across the green towards his golf bag.

Dave was tempted to tell Buzz he was still away and make him putt out, but decided to let it go. No sense it having two poor sports. Instead, he calmly lined up his 3-foot par putt and watched as it hit the side of the hole, did a 360, and dropped in.

"Good all around putt," Buzz said without smiling. "I guess that proves that it's better to be lucky than good."

" _What a prick!"_

"Try it again, Sam. I'm sure we are at the right spot. I double-checked the coordinates. The bags have to be right here." The sport fishing boat had left Naples just before dawn outfitted with the latest gear. It was grouper and kingfish season and the "Bonefish" was just one of a dozen boats that made this trip daily. Most were charters with four to eight tourists paying $500 per half day. The "Bonefish" just hauled the two of them, and it was not kingfish they were after. Although they had two lines out, baited with live shad, they were confident they had a sure catch. They were wrong.

Sam replaced the batteries for the 2nd time and checked the frequency again. Everything looked okay on this end. They just were not picking up the signal.

"Ron, let's do a test. Attach one of the backup transponders I carry to that buoy, and drop it overboard. Make sure it's set to the same frequency. Let's see if we pick up the signal underwater."

The "beeping" was loud and clear as they gradually increased the distance from the buoy. At 500 yards, the sound was weak but discernable. Either all 16 of the devices were malfunctioning or they had the wrong pickup coordinates. As a precaution, two transmitters were attached to each bag making it almost impossible to lose the bags; at least that was the procedure that was supposed to have been followed.

Sam refused to consider the third option.

"Ron let's do a grid search using the buoy as the center. The water is pretty clear; maybe we can see the bags. Add some weights on the lines so they drag about 10 feet below the surface. Maybe we can snag them. I don't want to go back empty without trying everything."

For two hours they trolled back and forth, for 500 yards each direction; nothing. An hour later they recognized defeat.

"Let's pull in the lines and head for home, Ron. We might as well face the music. He won't be happy. I just hope he doesn't shoot the messenger."

Then it happened. One of the lines snagged on something bent in half until the tip was below the water line. Ron's heart jumped and his hopes soared. For just a moment Ron believed he had lucked out. He stopped the boat and grabbed the pole, but the line kept running out. It was clear they had hooked a king or some other game fish.

Ron was fighting the fish and bringing it to the surface. All of a sudden it soared 10 feet above the waves in magnificent splendor. It was a tarpon, upwards of 90 lbs. What a sight! What a fish!

The pole was rigged with a 25-pound test monofilament with a 2-foot, 80-pound test shock leader. The gear was enough to handle the tarpon's weight and strength. It took Ron 30 minutes before he brought it close enough to the boat to net. By then, both Ron and the fish were near exhaustion, but the tarpon was still struggling. Tarpon were in season, although a $50 permit is required. Most Florida game fish are caught and released, after the posing for the obligatory photo. As Sam watched Ron fight the fish he was struck with the irony.

They weren't even fishing and landed a prize trophy fish. Half the charter boats would return empty and he knew the boat captains would be envious. Sam also knew they couldn't keep it. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that he and Ron would take the tarpon's place in the Gulf of Mexico if they came home with a 90 lb fish instead of 320 kilos of heroin. Sam cut the line and watched the fish disappear into the warm waters of the Gulf.

Chapter 4

Par 3 185 Yards

The Equipment Leasing Business

Bradford still had honors as the players approached the tough Par 3, fourth hole. The match was all square, but Dave knew he had to get his emotions in check. His concentration had lapsed on that little putt. In the back of Dave's mind he had been thinking about Buzz' little tantrum rather than his own putt. It had almost cost him the hole, and he couldn't afford to give away holes to Buzz. He needed to be mentally tough or he had no chance.

The Par 3, 4th hole is 185 yards and almost all carry over water fronting the green. The pond was home to a pair of 6-foot alligators that all too often had feasted on errant tee shots. This was part of the mental game that Ken was always talking about, Dave mused. If you are confident that you can hit a good shot, you probably will. If you have doubts, you probably won't.

Ken introduced various drills to improve Dave's confidence. The key was to establish a positive routine, a routine that would work under pressure. The two friends worked on visualization, a key component in the routine of Asian golfers. "Create a picture in your mind of the ball landing on the green and rolling towards the hole," Ken instructed. "Then allow your body to complete the picture."

Dave followed his routine, took a slow practice swing, visualized a great shot, and watched helplessly as his 5-wood hung up in the wind, and came to rest in a watery grave. Ken never said you would hit a perfect shot every time.

As Buzz select a 5-iron and prepared for his tee shot, Dave's thoughts drifted back to the early days of his equipment leasing business.

Sunday morning came too soon. Mary had spent the night with Dave as she often did on weekends. They had celebrated too much the night before and the celebration only had gotten better when they got home. It was after 1:00 AM when they finally curled up like spoons and fell asleep. It seemed like only a few minutes later when the alarm sounded and the clock read 7:00 AM.

They had 45 minutes to feed the kids and get to 8 o'clock church. Dave jumped up and took the covers with him.

"Stop it," Mary screamed as she pulled the covers over her bare bottom and buried her head in the pillow.

"Get up and get moving or we'll be late for church. Do I need to resort to cold water?" Bradford was in the shower when he heard her moving around, mumbling something about morning people.

Dave loved the morning. It was the best part of the day, particularly since he moved to Tampa where it reached 90 by 9:00 AM during the summer. Mary came into the shower and pushed him out. She looked pretty good, but when he reached for her all he got was; "Stop it, you better not get my hair wet or you will be going to church without me." Wet hair is the one excuse that a man can never overcome.

Dave dressed quickly, and headed for the kitchen to turn on the coffee, and made a feeble attempt to wake the kids. All he got was moans. Pete and Lisa were both in the "wake me at noon" sleep, and Dave had no time to argue with them. Besides, they were good kids. Missing church one week wouldn't kill them.

Dave devoted his energies to coffee, a bagel and a quick scan of the newspaper. Mary came out at 7:40 with five minutes to spare. She took the cup of coffee, a bite of bagel and was ready to go.

"The kids aren't going?" she asked.

"Not a chance."

"What did you think of our new best friends?" she asked, as we were driving to church. "You looked like you were having a pretty good time talking football."

"I liked them, especially Fred. He has a good sense of humor. Everyone seemed nice, although it might have been the alcohol. How about you; what did you think?"

"I had fun too," Mary replied. "It sounds like Jill might be a pretty good tennis player. We are set up to play Tuesday. Judy and Ginny were nice too. I didn't get a chance to talk much with Gigi. She sure is a beautiful woman. She and Mario kind of kept to themselves until he came out of nowhere asking about your business. It seemed awkward, almost like he had something in mind. Did you notice?"

"I did. I wasn't sure what he looking for. Do you know what I mean?"

"I do, that's why I saved your butt." We both laughed, recalling Mary's IRS job description.

"I knew there was a reason I like you," he said affectionately.

Monday, Dave was back to work. Business was good and getting better. He leased two offices in an Executive Office Suite including an office for his assistant, Sally. It was ideal for small businesses that did not want to hire a secretary or invest in office equipment and furniture, but needed a work place away from home.

Bradford checked his email. There was one item of interest, a request for lease rates for a $77,000 internet access system for a new hotel. The sender looked like a vendor and could be a source of ongoing business. Dave added 4% to his cost of capital and emailed back the lease rates. _4% of $77,000 would be a nice profit if they got the job, he mused._ Dave was mentally spending the money when Sally stepped into his office.

"How did your Friday afternoon meeting go, Dave? Did we get the work?" Dave had met Friday with corporate representatives from Bally's who were opening two sites in Tampa.

"I think so, Sally, and I'm pretty sure that we can get them approved. How are your deals coming along?"

The co-workers went over the status of each of the 14 deals in inventory, 15 including "Bodybuilders". Business was good.

The sound of Buzz' 5-iron jarred Dave back to reality. It was the crisp sound of a well-struck ball, and it was no surprise to see the ball feather softly onto the green, stopping 12 feet short of the flag.

There was no drop area so Dave was forced to hit a second shot from the tee. He was hitting three. This time he struck the 5-wood cleanly and landed on the fringe, 35 feet from the hole. He would need to sink this putt and hope Buzz 3-putted from 12 feet. Part of him wanted to concede the hole, but it was better sportsmanship to play the hole out and allow Buzz to try for birdie. Dave narrowly missed the bogey putt and tapped in for a five. Buzz sank his putt for a deuce. In stroke play, losing three strokes on one hole is disastrous. In medal play it's no different than losing by a stroke.

Dave was down one again, with 32 to play.

Sam headed for the public telephone next to the bait house while Ron dry-docked the boat. This was not a conversation that was appropriate for a cell phone. He dialed the private number and waited. On the fourth ring the boss answered: "Hello."

"It wasn't there. We searched the area for three hours; nothing."

There was silence for at least 30 seconds. Sam kept silent; there was nothing more to say. He could only imagine the rage building in his boss. They had already been paid 50% in advance for the shipment. Nobody wants to give back $16M.

"Stay by this phone until I get back to you." Dial tone.

Sam hung up and wiped his brow. Florida was hot in May, even at 10:00 AM, but that was not why he was sweating.

While Sam was sweating, there were high-fives and smiles in the Tampa offices of the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency. Not only did they possess six canvas bags of uncut heroin with a wholesale value of more than $32 million, they were moving up the food chain to the big fish.

The phone tap on the public telephone had paid dividends.

Chapter 5

Par 4 – 365 Yards

Fred's Restaurant deal

Sally left and Bradford checked his voice messages. Fred had called regarding lunch on Wednesday. Dave returned his call and waited while his secretary tracked him down. He was pleased he had followed up on Saturday's conversation. Fred seemed like a nice guy.

"Dave, thanks for getting back to me so fast. I appreciate that."

"My pleasure, Fred. Besides, Mary wouldn't forgive me if I didn't. We had such a great time Saturday. Did you all stay out much later after we left? I heard you were stopping for a nightcap."

"We all stopped for one drink and went home. We were tired and I'm getting too old for the late nights. Judy would have stayed and danced, but I feel it too much the next morning. Mario told me they left the Beantown Pub around 2 AM and stopped for breakfast. It was after 3:30 when they got back to Buzz' house."

"Listen, I have a staff meeting in a few minutes so I need to cut this short. Can you come over to my Shells Restaurant on Henderson Road Wednesday for lunch? There are a couple things I'm looking at doing and would like to get your input."

"Great! I'll be there at 12:30." Dave had no idea what Fred was thinking, but had a hunch it was the start of something good.

The 5th hole was a challenging Par 4; 365 yards, dogleg right. A fairway bunker and two 50-foot pine trees protected the dogleg. The green was framed by a deep sand trap in front and water to the right. The hole was well designed. There have probably been more double bogeys on this hole than birdies.

It was 240 yards to carry the bunker and approximately 255 to carry the pine trees. That was more than enough protection for Bradford, but Buzz was going to try and fly the trees and reach the green. It was only a 290-yard carry to the green. There was a slight breeze from right to left and slightly in their face.

Buzz' problem was that the hole did not fit his eye or his swing. Buzz liked to hit a long draw. This shot called for a power fade to help take the bunkers and water out of play. However, sometimes length off the tee changes everything.

Bradford didn't know a golf ball could be hit that hard. The sound was different. Buzz' drive easily cleared the pine trees on the right and headed towards the green. It had a slight fade and briefly flirted with the water, but the wind kept it on line. The ball landed softly three yards short of the front sand trap, rolled forward a few feet, and came to rest on the fringe only 25 yards short of the pin.

Dave applauded. "Nice shot, Buzz", but he didn't hear or if he did, he didn't acknowledge him. He was too busy complaining to his friends in the gallery about the wind and bragging that last week he had driven the green.

Bradford selected 3-wood and hit it perfectly, left of the fairway bunker, 145 yards to the center-cut hole location. That's all he could do.

Dave was 15 minutes late for his lunch appointment with Fred. He had been on schedule until 11:30 when he received a call from a hotel owner that had seen his website and wanted to know if his company could help him. Obviously, the answer was yes. Sally quoted him some estimated rates and he sounded interested. The true test would be if he sent us the information we needed to prepare a term sheet. 70% of the calls were "shoppers."

"Shells" had a nice lunch crowd and looked to be about 2/3 full, mostly a business crowd with a few tables that looked like tourists. People were still coming in for lunch. The restaurants were medium priced and enjoyed a reputation as a nice, family restaurant that served good seafood. Mary had dinner in the Shells on Clearwater Beach last month, and said the food was excellent.

Fred was at the front door greeting customers and greeted Dave with a warm smile and handshake. A few people looked over to see if he was a celebrity. It always makes a person feel important when the owner knows you. Dave had stopped at "Cheers" in Boston last summer, but nobody knew his name.

"Dave, can you hold off on lunch a few minutes? I would like to show you the place and what we are trying to do."

"Sure Fred, lead on."

Dave soon found himself in the kitchen trying to stay out of the way while Fred explained the operation. One person had overall responsibility for the order, while others worked in their little sections; one person did nothing but salads, one did pasta and another monitored the fried foods. It was like an assembly line with the chef coordinating the production and ensuring the overall quality and presentation.

Fred pointed Dave to the grill and the ovens. "That's what I need to replace. These appliances are almost ten years old and are starting to break down. The new ones are faster and maintain a more consistent temperature. One of these days the restaurant will be packed, and the ovens and grill will go down. I'll be left with nothing but the microwave. I also want to knock out that wall and put in a small grille for backup and extra capacity for special events."

"How much are we talking about, Fred, for everything?"

"$200,000 should cover it, including $25,000 for a few other items. Can you do it?"

"If your cash flow can handle the new lease payments, I don't see why not. Tell your vendors to start work and to invoice us directly."

"Excellent. I'm hungry Dave; let's see if our table is ready. I don't think we will have a problem getting good service." Rank does have privileges.

"Try the sea bass. We get this fresh daily from Tampa Bay, and it compares to the sea bass you pay $30 - $40 for in the Caribbean." Dave took his suggestion. Fred ordered the salmon salad claiming he was trying to drop a few pounds. Dave was in the mood for a glass of wine, but settled on iced tea. Business first.

While they waited for their food, Dave asked Fred for a quick overview of his business. He needed this to determine which financing sources to use. "Fred, other than knowing Shells is a small chain, I know little else. Can you give me the five-minute overview?"

"Sure; happy to. I started this restaurant five years ago and am 100% owner. I'm also 50% partner in the other six restaurants; one in South Tampa, two in Clearwater, and three in the Fort Lauderdale area. I hope to open 10-15 new locations between here and Miami in the next five years. Each location grosses about $2 -$3 million with a 30% to 40% NOI (Net Operating Income). We have been lucky so far."

"I'll say. Is your NOI after the mortgage payment? Who owns the other 50%?"

"You met my partner Saturday night; Mario! And that's the beauty of it; we have no mortgages and no debt. I provide the expertise and management; Mario provides the money. We split profits right down the middle. Mario is a great partner. We get together around once or twice a month, sometimes on his yacht, and talk business. Then we fish. And speaking of fish, here comes our lunch."

The presentation was excellent. The entrees were served on octagon-shaped platters with an engrained fish design. The sea bass was prepared "en papillote", stuffed with fresh mushrooms, parsley, red peppers and shallots, and complimented with creamy new potatoes.

Bradford couldn't help thinking what a great setup Fred had. He was also trying to work out the numbers. Conservatively, 30% NOI on $2M is $600,000 per restaurant; times seven is $4.2 million pretax income. Even if each restaurant carried a mortgage payment of $200,000, Fred would still be doing great.

Mario's return on investment was a little tougher to calculate. "What's it take to build one of these, two million?"

"This one cost about $2.3M including the land. Four locations are right on the water where land costs were high; and everything cost more in the Ft. Lauderdale area. Mario has about $20M cash in the seven restaurants. I tell you Dave, without Mario I would have this restaurant and maybe one other. It was my lucky day when I met Mario."

"It sounds like you have a good thing going with Mario. There are a lot of small businesses that can't grow because they can't raise the money." _Bradford couldn't help but wonder where Mario got the money._

"Let's take a ride, Dave. I want to show you a restaurant I'm thinking of buying. I'd like your opinion. We should be back by 3:00 at the latest."

Bradford had 145 yards to a center pin and chose 8-iron. He caught it a little heavy and came up 20 feet short. It was the right club; he just didn't hit it solid. _I'm not going to complain about being 20 feet away, Dave thought. Ken always told me to be happy with my average shots and not beat himself up over them. Ken would say; "You're putting, it could be a lot worse."_

Buzz had a golden opportunity for birdie; actually two opportunities. From 25 yards, either a good chip or a good putt would do it. His chip was on line, but came up 10 feet short. Not bad, but not good from that distance. Dave two-putted for par and it was up to Buzz to make his birdie putt. He missed on the high side for a disappointing par. Bradford remained only one down.

Juan and his passenger were halfway home when the anchor line was untied and the eight bags of heroin began to float away. An hour later the heroin was plucked from the water and loaded into a 26' powerboat running without lights. The "tip" had been accurate. The location and the beacon frequency were right on target. Phase I of their plan had succeeded.

The boat was long gone when Sam and Ron arrived three hours later.

Juan was thinking of Maria when both his dreams and boat exploded sending both to the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico.

Diego was 200 yards away floating comfortably in the water. He had liked Juan, but he had also liked many of the other men that he had killed. It was never personal; just business. Juan could not be trusted to keep silent if he were caught, and besides, Juan's disappearance would make him the prime suspect for the Drug Cartel that would surely be looking for their stolen drugs. These were not people that you wanted to fool with. Luckily, Diego had made plans to disappear.

He swam lazily towards the small island and waited for his friends to pick him up. He thought about his new life in the United States with the $3M he would earn from this job. Diego was tired of the drug trade and looked forward to a quiet life.

The scuba swimmer came to the surface and spotted the pickup boat less than 100 yards away. He swam easily towards the boat congratulating himself on the accuracy of his calculations.

Jesus smiled when he saw the two bags of heroin the swimmer was towing. Good job amigo. Let's go pick up Diego and call it a night."

Chapter 6

Par 5 – 525 Yards

Oyster Bay

"You'll love this restaurant, Dave. It's been closed for six months. They are asking $2.2M including all the furnishings, fixtures and equipment. Everything is new. It's a great opportunity for someone that knows the business."

"I remember this place. What happened, Fred? This place looked like it couldn't miss."

"You're right, Dave. Oyster Bay had everything going for them. Good location, waterfront frontage, outside seating for a 100, live music on weekends, a great indoor dining room that seats 200, with a view, a nice bar; Everything! But they broke the cardinal rule in the restaurant business; you need to serve good food or the people won't come back!"

"The owners had success with other restaurants that catered to a different clientele; a lot of fried food and potatoes. Their menu here didn't fit the younger crowd that was attracted by the water, outside music and this area of town. Not enough salads, fresh fish and that type of thing. The food was too heavy, and wasn't that good."

"They also had some bad luck including a weak economy, competition and the rain from El Nino. It rained four consecutive weekends last summer, which killed their outdoor crowd and live music. There are also several new restaurants in the area; Copeland's of New Orleans and Tuscabellas in particular. The competition, combined with their poor food, was the killer. El Nino was the knockout blow."

"How much?"

"I'm pretty sure they will take $2M including everything you see, plus another $750,000 for renovations. I want to open up the indoor restaurant so that half the tables have an outdoor feel. They will be covered with large, sliding glass doors to protect against the weather, but I want to cater to a young, Tampa crowd that doesn't have the time to drive 45 minutes to the beach. Envision a giant Tiki Hut and a T-shaped pier with a portable arch for weddings."

"What did your bank say?"

"In a nutshell, they said no. Despite my experience with Shells, they don't like restaurants unless they are a major chain. The most they will lend is 50% of the cost, which means I would need $1.5M. I don't have that much, and I would really like to do this without going to Mario."

"We could probably get you a 75% loan, 80% if you are eligible for an SBA loan. You might be making too much from your Shells franchises to qualify as a small business. How much cash can you come up with?"

"I can scrape together $750,000 if necessary, but that's about it. Will this cover your fee and closing expenses?"

"$750,000 will cover everything. I usually charge 2% on this size deal, but I'll agree to one percent if that's okay with you. I'll draw-up a simple fee agreement and give you a list of the information we need."

"Sounds good, I had a feeling you would be able to help me."

As they drove back to Shells to pick up Dave's car, Bradford reflected on his good fortune and the opportunities that lay ahead for his company.

The Par 5 sixth hole was only 525 yards and reachable for the long hitters. Buzz' drive was long and straight. He would have only 235 to the green.

Dave hit his drive perfectly, but still came up 30 yards short of Buzz'. Without a strong tailwind, this was a 3-shot Par 5 for Dave and he knew it. Ken taught him to play his own game and not to let his opponent change his thinking or approach.

Dave could hear Ken's words. _"Club players get intimidated and start over swinging when they are matched up with long hitters. It doesn't help to try to out drive them. You might occasionally hit one five yards farther, but it will seldom pay off over 18 holes. A player starts to lose tempo, and make mistakes. The worst part is that over swinging off the tee impacts other parts of your game, particularly your irons where the easy rhythm is most important. Once you lose tempo, you are in for a long day."_

What Ken doesn't understand is how good it feels to be the long man off the tee once in a while. Every short hitter knows that one long drive and one poor drive, feels better than two average drives. It's a fact. It might not reflect on your scorecard, but it should.

Dave hit 5-wood and laid up to about 115 yards. Buzz' 3-wood drifted a little right and landed pin high on the fringe. Advantage, Buzz.

Dave was between clubs. His easy pitching wedge traveled 100-110 yards and his nine-iron 120-130 yards. He could either ease up on the nine or try to hit the wedge a little harder. He decided on 9-iron and took a smooth, lazy swing. The results were all too predictable. He caught the shot flush and flew the green by five yards and rolled down into a collection area; a testimony to the theory that you hit the ball farther with a smooth swing and good timing. He was still away and had a tough up and down. His Mickelson-like attempt with a lob wedge ran past the hole leaving 15-feet for par.

Buzz' birdie chip from the fringe came up a foot short, and was conceded. Dave's par putt never made it to the hole. He was two down after six holes.

The DEA sting operation was the culmination of three years planning involving several agencies. Joe Martinez, Assistant U.S. District Attorney for the State of Florida, was in charge. Day-to-day decisions were made by Chip Mathews, DEA Florida Bureau Chief.

Since 9/11, Chip's job became much tougher. While an estimated 70% of cocaine entering the United States still flows across the 2000 mile US-Mexican border, the Caribbean is rapidly becoming the major artery that it was in the 80's before Crockett and Tubbs put a stop to it. The floodgates have been reopened.

There are several reasons for this. To be successful, the DEA depends upon resources and information provided by other agencies. Since 9/11 the FBI is chasing the money trail of terrorist groups that support El Qaeda, rather than the money laundering trail of the drug groups. The Coast Guard is protecting our ports and harbors against terrorist acts, rather than intercepting drug shipments. DEA agents have been designated to airport security or assigned as sky marshals rather than drug interdiction.

At the same time, heightened security along the Mexican and Canadian borders has made smuggling through these traditional channels more costly. Drug seizures are up along the border, and smugglers are looking for alternative and safer routes into the U.S.

Supply has also increased despite U.S. efforts to eliminate production at its source. Efforts to convert Latin American cocoa and opium poppy fields were initially encouraging, but as the price of coffee has fallen, farmers in Bolivia, Columbia and Peru reverted back to the traditional and more profitable crops. U.S. subsidies were not enough.

Chip was excited when the anonymous tip had come in last week. He saw this as an opportunity to make a major bust and possibly a way to get a lead on the organization that was responsible for distribution in Florida and many of the Eastern states. The informant had provided the time and exact location of the "drop" and a description of the pick-up boat.

Chip decided to wait for bigger fish. His plan was to take advantage of the 3-hour window that the drugs would be floating in the water, steal the drugs and then wait for the crew of the pickup boat to make a mistake.

Chip anticipated that the boat crew would panic when they didn't find the drugs. They knew that suspicion fingers would point at them and they would be scared. Their first instinct would be to immediately report the missing shipment to their boss. The longer Sam and Ron waited, the guiltier they would look. It was a good plan.

Cell phone frequencies had been monitored. Wiretap authorizations were obtained for the three pay phones at the marina and the phone at the marina counter. Sam should have waited until he was at a secure location, and reported through normal channels designed to protect the identity of the man he called. But, instead he used the number he had been cautioned to use only in an emergency. This was an emergency.

Chapter 7

Par 4 – 415 Yards

Tampa Bay Buccaneers

Raymond James Stadium on a bright Sunday afternoon is a beautiful sight. The St. Louis Rams, winners of Super Bowl XXX111, were in town and the atmosphere was electric. Kurt Warner and Marshall Faulk would meet Derrick Brooks and Warren Sapp. It was a ticket scalpers dream.

Tailgaters had begun arriving at 10:00 AM. Kickoff was at 4:15. It was the network game of the day. Dave and Mary arrived at 3:00 and the party was in full swing. Cannons were booming from the Pirate Ship in the north end zone, hamburgers and brats were cooking and beer was being consumed.

Security was tight and their names were checked against a guest list provided by Bill Martin. Dave was glad that Fred had talked him out of bringing the wine. There was no way he could have gotten a case of wine into the stadium.

Mary and Dave found the elevators that took them to the private boxes. Bill's box was on the 4th level. Ginny greeted us warmly. "Dave, Mary, we are so happy you could make it. I love that outfit Mary. You will have to tell me where you bought it. Come in and let me introduce you to some friends."

Before she could get started, Fred came over and grabbed Dave's shoulder. "Come over here, Dave. I was just telling someone about you. Joe, this is the moneyman, Dave Bradford. Dave, this is a good friend of mine, Joe Fredericks. He is married to that good looking woman over there, Alice."

"Joe, it's a pleasure to meet you. My fiancée', Mary, is the lady with Ginny. We were wondering why our ears were burning as we came up the elevator. Was Fred saying anything nice about me?"

"We were actually talking a little business which is supposed to be a no-no at these games, but sometimes a casual setting is a perfect place to get something going. Fred was telling me that you are getting him the money to buy Oyster Bay. Is that true?"

"It's a little too soon to say for sure, but it looks good. Fred's experience with the Shells restaurants will sell the deal. Two lenders got back to me yesterday with LOI's; letters of interest."

"That's great news," Fred interrupted "Did they give you any terms?"

"Keep in mind that this isn't a commitment. Having said that, they close over 90% of the deals once they issue a Letter of Interest. They are offering an 80% loan at 7.5%, fixed for five years. That's better than we hoped."

Fred was obviously pleased, but before he could answer, Bill came over with Mario and a couple friends. The conversation turned to football.

Bill had set up two betting pools. One was a $500 per square where the numbers are drawn after all the squares had been purchased. It was the typical office pool and was pure chance. Dave donated $20 and wrote his name in four squares. This pool paid out $50 at halftime and at the end of the game. He saw that Mary had also entered.

The other pool cost a flat $100. Pick the winner of the game and the point difference; winner takes all. Dave barely had enough money but entered anyway. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. He assumed most others would choose the Bucs, so he picked the Rams to win by one point. Sentimentality had its place, but not where money was concerned.

Mary returned with a glass of wine in her hand and a beer for Dave. "Come over here, Dave, there are some people I want you to meet." The next 30 minutes were spent mingling and meeting new people. The names became a jumble. The buffet was splendid. Appetizers included spinach dip, cold shrimp, crab claws and raw oysters on the half shell for appetizers. The big food would be served buffet style at halftime. The game was about to start so Mary and Dave made a plate of food and found a couple seats to watch the game.

Raymond James Stadium held 65,000 and was a sea of pewter and red. The 103' Pirate Ship in the north end zone was a magnificent symbol and trademark for the Buccaneer franchise. It was a fantastic setting for a football game.

The Rams jumped out to a quick 7-0 lead with a 22-yard TD pass from Warner to Smith. The Bucs came right back but settled for a 45-yard field goal by Gramatica. Watching him celebrate after a made field goal was worth the price of admission.

Dave got up to get another beer and ran into Fred and his friend, Mike Sawyer. Mike was telling Fred about a Rome to Athens cruise he and his wife took in May. Mary wanted to go to Italy in the worst way, but something always came up. "Rome has the coliseum and the like," Mike was saying, "but Istanbul is the most fascinating city I have ever seen. The history of the city is unparalleled. It sits on the West bank of the Bosphorus River that divides Europe and Asia, and is the key to controlling that part of the world. Warlords from Genghis Khan to the Romans have controlled it. That's what makes Istanbul's architecture and history so interesting." Dave made a mental note for future reference.

The score was 14-6 Rams, at halftime. Apparently Marshal Faulk had scored again on a 2-yard run. Dave missed the play, but heard the roar and caught the replay. He grabbed another beer and joined Mary in the buffet line.

Bill announced that his wife Ginny had the lucky square (Rams 4 & Bucs 6) and won the $50 payoff for the first half betting pool. There was some applause but mostly good-natured boos and shouts of "fix." Dave told Mary that he didn't care; he was going to win the $100 pool.

"No you're not, I am," Mary replied.

"Where did you get the $100?" Dave was surprised because Mary is usually conservative with money.

"Ginny loaned it to me. I wasn't going to enter until we noticed you digging into your wallet. I don't remember you checking with me."

Go Girl!

Fred's buffet was delicious. It was all off the Shells menu but with a few special touches. Entrees featured Shells' specialty, "lobster pasta", laced with rock lobster indigenous to the Gulf of Mexico. Four choices of fish were offered; grouper filets, farm raised catfish, South American sea bass and ahi tuna that had barely been seared. Desserts were light, but interesting.

Jeff had brought his head chef, Milroy, to serve the food and describe the various dishes. He provided insights into each serving; why farm raised oysters can be eaten year around rather than only in the "R months"; why grouper caught in over 40 feet of water is superior; the difference between Florida sea bass and European sea bass which cost five times as much. Chef Milroy and Fred had a story for each dish. The women couldn't hear enough and speaking for most of the men, we couldn't eat enough.

They never sat down in the 2nd half. Other than a few die-hard Bucs fans, everyone just mingled and kept tract of the score on the two closed circuit TVs that piped in the game without commercials. Without replays, Dave and Mary would have missed half the good plays and touchdowns.

The game was a good one, but it was almost like watching at home. The enclosed booth made it different than watching a live game. It's like watching a horse race from the clubhouse and looking at the monitor or going to a track when there is no live racing, only simulcast. You can see better, but it's not the same as standing at the pole and hearing the thunder of hoofs approach as the horses come down the stretch.

Bradford met a bunch of celebrities that stopped in to say hi to Bill and Ginny and some of the other regulars. Dave had not been aware that Bill was so involved in politics. The list was a who's-who in Florida politics; U.S. Senator Joe Graham, the mayor, a couple state senators, assistant District Attorney Joe Martinez and several others. Joe Martinez and Bill were old college friends from Miami.

"Dave, you watch this guy," Mario said; "Martinez is a real up-and-comer in State politics. I knew him in Miami and he has a lot of friends and contacts."

Mario and Dave chatted for quite awhile. Mario appeared to be involved in a number of investments and projects in South Florida, Mexico and the Caribbean in addition to his partnership with Fred. Dave still couldn't get a handle on where Mario got the money for his investments.

"Do you finance projects outside the United States, Dave?"

"Not very often, Mario (actually, he had never done any). The basics are the same, but the lenders are different. Most of the groups I deal with do not have the resources to chase bad debt in a foreign country if the deal goes bad. Do you have something in mind? I would be happy to look into it for you."

Mario nodded and said he would keep that in mind. _It was just party talk, Dave thought. Nothing would come of it._

Later, Joe Fredericks and Dave talked a few minutes about his hotel company in Daytona Beach. Joe promised to call next week to discuss an opportunity. _This might turn into something, Dave thought_.

The score was the Bucs 30, Rams 28 with 65 seconds to go. Everyone started to pay attention. The Rams had the ball on their 25-yard line, but with no timeouts. This was enough time for the Rams high-powered offense.

An equal amount of attention was given to the betting pools. Joe would win the $50 "square pool" if the score stayed the same. A Ram field goal would make Judy a winner and a Ram touchdown would make Mike Sawyer the winner. It was fun.

The big pool had 15 entries and would pay $1,500. Dave was one of three people with a good chance to win. A field goal would make the Rams a one-point winner, which was exactly what Dave had picked. Mary and Joe were also in the running. She had picked the Bucs to win by 3. Joe had picked the Bucs to win by one point. They would split the winnings if there was no more scoring because nobody had picked the Bucs by 2. Mario had the Rams by six, which would be a winner only if the Rams scored a touchdown.

With only 65 seconds remaining, Mario's chances did not look good since a field goal was all the Rams needed. This changed on the next play when Isaac Bruce took a short pass down over the middle, and angled towards the sidelines. Mario was ecstatic. He jumped up and was yelling "come-on, run you bastard."

Ronde Barber came out of nowhere and ran him out of bounds at the Bucs 15. Bruce was faster, but Ronde had the angle. Mario still had hope, but was obviously mad at Bruce for not scoring. The rest of us didn't say anything. Dave, of course, was happy because a Ram field goal would be worth $1,500.

Tampa Bay had all three timeouts left and used two of them as Faulk ran twice for five yards. The Bucs would get the ball back if they stopped the Rams on third down and forced a field goal. Tampa Bay would have about 50 seconds to come back for a winning field goal.

Mario settled down, was apparently resigned to the inevitable field goal. This changed when Warner faked giving the ball to Faulk, and bootlegged around the left side, catching Tampa by surprise. He almost made it into the end zone. Mario was screaming again when Derrick Brooks pulled down Warner at the one-yard line. Mario still had a chance. It was first and goal on the one with time for two or three more plays. Tampa was out of timeouts.

Mario was up and screaming when the Rams came to the line. He was becoming a spectacle. It got worse when Warner took the snap from center, stepped back and took a knee. They were going to run the clock down and kick the easy field goal on the last play. Mario was cursing out Tony Dungy, the Bucs' coach.

Sixty-five thousand fans were silent, expecting the Bucs to lose. Mario was making a fool of himself because he would not win the $1,500 pool.

"Mario, what do you care?" Bill chided. "You have more money than God."

"Stuff it, Bill. You know I hate losing at anything."

With five seconds left, the Rams lined up for the winning field goal. Nobody misses a 21-yard, do they? The snap was good, the hold was good, the kick was on its way until a large hand came out of the mass of humanity and slapped the ball. It hit the right upright and deflected wide."

BUCS WIN!

The crowd went crazy. Warren Sapp was racing around claiming credit for the blocked field goal although replays showed that it was Brooks that got a hand on it. Dave cheered, but really wasn't that happy. He could have used the $1,500 to cover losses at the greyhound track he had accumulated over the last two months.

Mary had won $750. People were ribbing Dave and congratulating her. Everyone, but Dave, laughed when she repaid Ginny her $100 loan, smiled at him, and put the other $650 into her blouse. It was obvious that she wasn't sharing.

The party broke up soon after. Despite the disappointment, it had been a great afternoon.

Down two after six holes; this was not the start Bradford had hoped for. He needed to stay focused. Ken had drilled into him the importance of playing in the moment; one shot at a time. " _How many times do you see a player lose it after a bad hole?"_ Too often! You can't do anything about your last shot or the last hole. So don't worry about it, just concentrate on the task in hand. Now was the time to see if Dave had learned anything from Ken other than how to swing the club. It was time to be mentally strong.

The Par 4 Seventh hole was relatively straightforward. Bunkers protected the fairway about 240 to 260 yards from the tee. The rough was long. A large sand trap protected the right front of a small green that sloped front to back.

Buzz tried to drive past the bunkers and ended up pushing the ball right, into the heavy rough to the right of the bunker. Unless he caught a great lie, it would be difficult to hit the green from that angle.

Dave decided on 3-wood. Par would likely win the hole and a 3-wood took the bunkers out of play. Dave's drive split the fairway leaving him a 2nd shot of about 180 yards to the center of the green. He hit his four-iron a little thin, but got lucky when it rolled past the sand trap to the center of the green. Hitting the ball thin had been an accident, but worked out well because he had played safe and aimed at the left side of the green just in case. He was making good decisions.

Buzz' lie was okay, but not great. Dave could see the top of the ball but the grass was thick. Buzz had only 150 yards to clear the bunker and 165 to the middle of the green, but it would be hard to stop the ball out of the rough. His 7-iron looked good, but was too good. He caught a flyer. The ball landed pin high and rolled through the green and down the slope. Buzz would have a tough up and down for par.

Romano Montoya was livid when he received Mario's call on his private line. He sensed immediately that he had a major problem. It wasn't the lost heroin shipment. That was just money. Profit margins in this business were large enough to allow for mistakes. The problem was the uncertainty of who and why. Romano's gut instinct told him this was not an isolated event.

He carefully considered his next move. A bad decision could mean his downfall. The stakes were high, but there was no room for error in this business. He had learned that early that failure was not a viable option.

Romano had learned the drug trade from the best, spending 15 years with the CALI cocaine cartel in Mexico. For five years he was part of a small "enforcement group" designed to protect the assets of the organization. This meant protecting the poppy fields, processing plants and shipments from anyone and everyone; other drug gangs, petty thieves and even government agencies. While not as well known as the Columbian enforcers, Romano's organization was just as ruthless.

Romano was 19 years old and with the group for only six months when a processing plant had been hit and two kilograms of cocaine "paste" was stolen. After processing, the wholesale value would be more than $5 Million dollars. Unfortunately for the thieves, they had only killed three of the four guards. The 4th guard had been sleeping in a shed, but woke and watched as the raw cocaine was loaded onto two large trucks. Four men jumped into an old Ford jeep and the small convoy headed south towards Vera Cruz. The guard radioed ahead to alert his friends.

Within an hour, Romano and 19 others were waiting in ambush. Each was armed with Russian made AK-47 machine guns, a side arm and a jungle knife. The team also had grenades and two hand-held mortar launchers.

The first mortar round disabled the jeep as it slowed to come around a sharp bend, severely wounding three of the passengers. The fourth man was tried to reach the safety of the jungle but didn't make it. Six gunmen jumped from the back of the second truck with automatic guns blazing indiscriminately into the jungle at their unseen enemy, but were shredded by fire from the jungle on both sides of the road. Four were killed before the other two dropped their rifles and raised their arms and pleaded for mercy. They were dead in seconds.

The two trucks carrying the "paste" had nowhere to go on the narrow dirt road. The guard on the first truck opened fire and was immediately mowed down by at least 30 bullets. The first driver was badly wounded. The driver and guard in the 2nd truck threw down their weapons and surrendered.

What happened next left a lasting impression on Romano, and the prisoners. The dead were searched for identification papers and valuables, and then thrown in a pile on the side of the road. The wounded driver had been shot in the chest and was spitting blood and moaning for a doctor. He was thrown on top the dead bodies and shot through the mouth. "That will shut him up," the shooter proclaimed.

Unfortunately, one of Romano's team had been shot in the knee and was in considerable pain. It looked like the kneecap had been shattered. This put their captain, a 28-year-old man named Garcia, in a bad mood. The other wounded prisoners were added to the pile. Two were still alive.

"Torch them," Garcia ordered and watched as men poured gasoline on the pile of bodies and then lit the fire. To this day, Romano sometimes could smell the stench and hear the screams of the dying men.

The four live prisoners were taken back to a warehouse our cartel owned. Two of the Cartel bosses were waiting. "Find out who sent them, and then get rid of them. Send a message."

The gang was part of a small group that had been trying to carve out a piece of the lucrative drug trade. The leaders were three brothers living in a small farm near Vera Cruz. Garcia took twenty men including Romano to make sure the brothers didn't bother them again.

Romano learned several lessons from this experience and many others during his five years in enforcement. He was not as sadistic as Garcia, but he recognized the importance of strength and fear. This was not a business for the weak. When required, Romano did what was necessary. It was good business.

Buzz was at the bottom of the hill 30 yards behind the green. The green sloped toward him. Predictably his lob wedge came up 12 feet short.

While he was complaining that the shot should have run more, Dave lined up his 25-foot birdie putt. He knew Buzz should have used a pitching wedge or nine-iron. He had made a careless, mental mistake. It was the first time that Dave felt he could win the match.

Dave's 25-foot putt stopped two feet short of the hole and he tapped in for par. Buzz missed his par putt and his lead was cut to one. He was on his way back.

Romano spent the next 10 years rapidly moving up in the organization. He succeeded at every level and was known for his planning and attention to detail. He spent two years overseeing the growing and harvesting of the cocoa bush leaves. The cocoa bush leaves are harvested manually; up to eight times a year. Only mature leaves are picked each harvest, making the operation extremely labor intensive.

Romano was promoted to hauler, and in three years, he never lost a shipment crossing the US-Mexican Border. The average loss was 20%. Trucks with false bottoms were the standard method of smuggling into the U.S., but this was becoming more risky as U.S. customs agents caught on. Romano developed alternative transportation methods including the construction of tunnels under the Rio Grande that went undetected for two years. This earned Romano respect from the CALI Family, and from their U.S. distributors.

9/11 gave Romano his opportunity. As a reaction to the terrorist threat, border security was dramatically increased. Three drug shipments from other haulers were intercepted in a period of four months. Romano's record was still perfect, but it was getting too risky. They needed to find an alternative method of getting the drugs into the States.

The cartel also began harvesting a new product, opium, and it's conversion to heroin. Mexico and Columbia have recently joined Asia and The Golden Triangle (Burma, Laos and Thailand), as major growers of the opium poppy plant, the source of heroin. Heroin is more addictive and profitable than cocaine. Addicts require daily dosages. It is also less bulky than cocaine or marijuana, making it easier transport.

The Caribbean route was reestablished. Shipments went from Mexico to one of several islands and then by boat or plane into the United States. Romano was put in charge. He took it one step farther and established Mario in Miami to coordinate receipt of the shipments and to coordinate distribution to the Eastern United States.

Mario received 80% pure heroin from Romano, known on the street as Mexican Black Tar Heroin #4. His first step was to dilute the product to 70% by adding powdered milk, baking soda and quinine. This increased the weight, and profit, by 14% He sold the 70% pure heroin to major distributors along the Eastern Coast for $100,000 per kilogram. Mario's typical shipment was between 250 KG with a wholesale value of $25M. Mario's "cut" was 15%. In a multi-billion dollar industry, the financial rewards are significant.

Romano's thoughts returned to the present and he dialed the private number of Carlos, his top associate in Latin America. There could be a leak in Mario's organization. He needed someone he could trust. Romano quickly brought Carlos up to date. "Have someone call Sam and make absolutely sure the boat was clean. Then find out who knew about the location of the drop, and when they knew it. Call me tonight." He repeated the pay phone number that Sam had called from and hung up without a goodbye.

Romano then made a call to his man in Costa Rica. "Find out who handled the shipment on your end and get back to me." Romano had set things in motion. All he could do was wait.

Chapter 8

Par 3 – 210 yards

Taste of Success

"There he is", Jesus shouted. "Do you see him? He's 150 yards straight ahead. Here, take the wheel. I need to get something from down below."

The scuba diver had been relaxing after his long swim and was sprawled across the stern of the boat, looking at the stars and enjoying the evening. Everything had gone well. His boss would be pleased.

Diego had been floating and treading water for over an hour and was getting tired, when he heard the boat. It was about time. In another 15 minutes he would have gone ashore to rest on the small island that was their marker. The island was supposed to be uninhabited, but Diego didn't want to take a chance.

This time tomorrow, Diego would be living in a new country, with a new name and a $2M spending money. He was tired of this line of work. Most of the people he dealt with were fools, like this guy in the boat. Why is he lighting a flare? Is he trying to attract attention?

All of a sudden what seemed like a burning candle came at him, and Diego knew it wasn't a flare. His survival instincts took over but it was too late. He tried to slip out of his life jacket and dive, but wasn't fast enough. He had barely submerged when the blast from the four TNT sticks burst his eardrums and knocked him unconscious. Diego's last thoughts were of revenge.

Mario's friend, Michael Sahs, called Monday. He was looking for a $10,300,000 loan to purchase and renovate a 320 Room Days Inn just outside Disney World. The purchase price was $12.8M. He and his partners only had $2.5M equity.

Several lenders had turned them down. Sahs was looking for an 80% loan in a depressed market. Since 9/11, few lenders were interested in hotels, particularly in the Orlando area. Tourism was way down.

Bradford wasn't optimistic, but decided to look at the deal as a favor to Mario. Sahs planned to spend $2.2M renovating the property and upgrading it to a Holiday Inn Express.

Bradford approached the financing in two steps. The first part was equipment leasing. GMAC approved the entire $2.2M 'Property Improvement Program' on a 7.5%, 84 Month lease.

He then found a commercial lender that he knew was still doing deals in the hospitality market. The lender was interested, assuming of course, that there were no surprises uncovered during due-diligence. The loan would be 75% of the purchase price, net of the $2.2M renovation cost. This provided Sahs the remaining $8M. He called Sahs.

"Michael, Dave Bradford. I have good news." He quickly summarized the terms.

"Fabulous, send me the paperwork. Remember, anytime you are in Orlando, you have a free room."

Bradford's commission was 1% of the $8M Mortgage ($80,000) and 2% of the $2.2M lease ($44,000). Not a bad two-day's work. He had worked harder on $10,000 leasing deals that only paid $500 commission.

"Romano, this is Carlos. Something is very wrong on this end. There is no trace of the boat or the crew. Juan and Diego have disappeared. They never came back last night. My man went to Juan's home and reported that Juan's wife and kids are worried sick. She wasn't acting. "

"Carlos, we need to get to the bottom of this fast. I want you here tomorrow around six. Can you make it?"

"I'll be there. In the meantime, we'll keep looking. Somebody knows something. A boat and two men just don't disappear."

"Okay, Carlos. Call this number from a payphone at the airport and someone will tell you when and where we are meeting. We'll book a room for you. Our partners will be at the meeting. Be careful, I'm not sure who we can trust."

The Par 3 eighth hole was 210 yards from an elevated tee, down to a large 2-tiered green protected by bunkers on either side. The green was fast with severe undulations. The pin location was back-right.

Dave had honors and chose 5-iron. The shot played no more than 175 yards. Anywhere on the lower tier was acceptable. The right bunker was dead. Anything long would be a difficult two putt. He aimed a little left of the pin and ended up on the front edge, 25 feet away. Not bad.

Buzz made a point of letting everyone know he was hitting 8-iron, which he proceeded to nail. It was headed right at the flag. Unfortunately, he hit it too well. His ball ended up on the back of the green about 45 feet from the hole. It was one of those times a golfer hits a shot perfectly and gets nothing out of it. Buzz was not happy.

Buzz' 65-foot birdie putt came up short, leaving him a tricky 6-foot putt for par. In stroke play, Buzz might have chosen to putt out. He "marked" and asked Dave if he needed any help reading his putt. Dave politely refused and resisted the urge to point out that he hadn't done so well in reading the speed of his own putt.

Dave's 20-foot birdie putt was center cut, but came up inches short. He tapped in and watched helplessly as Buzz drained his putt to halve the hole.

Carlos arrived at Miami International Airport at 3:30 PM. If this flight had been cancelled, he was booked on another flight that would have gotten him in at 5:30. Romano did not like it if you were late. His return flight was scheduled for noon tomorrow, but he was flexible. Miami was a great city to visit.

He cleared customs without any problem and called the number Romano had provided. He was told to check into a small hotel on Ocean Drive in South Beach and wait for instructions. Carlos hoped this evening's schedule would allow time to visit the local nightclubs. South Beach nightlife didn't start until midnight so the evening had possibilities.

Carlos thoughts quickly returned to reality. There was an envelope waiting for him when he arrived at his hotel. The meeting was at 8 PM in a small room at the back of a restaurant two blocks away. Food would be served. With three hours to kill, Carlos decided to take a nap and get cleaned up. It could be a long evening. Romano and his partners would not be pleased with what he had discovered.

While Carlos napped, Mario was at home listening to Sam and Ron tell Romano what they had learned. They started at the beginning and retold their story about the missing drugs and their futile search of the surrounding waters. They omitted the part about the tarpon.

"Who else knew the coordinates for the pickup?" Romano asked.

"We didn't tell anyone. You have to believe us. We know what would happen if we were caught with the drugs. I already spent two years in prison and the next conviction would be 5-10. We didn't tell anyone."

"Tell Romano how you get your instructions," Mario directed.

"We only know the time and the general area until we're on the boat. We left at 6:30 AM and got the call 15 minutes later on my cell phone. The message is sent in code; The Dolphins are favored to win by 13, 28 to 15. Bet 80 big ones to win. We add the spread of 13 to each of the numbers and get the longitude and latitude. This gives us the coordinates. The 80 meant there are eight bags. I repeat the numbers to confirm. The caller says thank you and hangs up. That's all there is to it. In this case, it took about an hour to get to the drop point, but when we got there, nothing."

"Do we know the caller?"

"We will need to ask Carlos," said Mario. "He handles that side of it. They never tell us who our contact is. Sam, didn't you say you thought it was somebody new this time?"

"That's right. I don't know if it means anything, but this guy was new. He spoke Spanish with an American accent, almost like he grew up in the U.S. The other times the caller was Mexican or Hispanic."

"Okay, let's wait and see what Carlos has to say before we jump to any conclusions. I'll see you all at 9 PM. I'm going back to the hotel and get a couple hours of sleep."

Mario breathed a sigh of relief when Romano left, and poured himself a drink. "Fellows, take it easy tonight. Keep your cell phone on and watch the booze. I may need you after the meeting."

Chapter 9

Par 5 – 525 yards

International Financing - Mexico

The 9th hole is a beautiful Par 5, dogleg to the right. There were four fairway bunkers on the left about 240-260 yards out. A small creek ran along the entire right side of the fairway until it turns left in front of the green, creating a small lake that protects the green on three sides. A waste area directly behind the green leaves only a small target for someone trying to reach the green in two.

It was definitely a three shot hole for Bradford. He hit 3-wood off the tee, stopping 15 yards short of the first bunker. Good position. A little short, but still alive.

Buzz could reach the green with two big shots and he decided to go with driver. It was a good choice as his drive split the fairway and rolled past the third bunker, leaving him 230 yards to carry the water and 250 yards to the pin.

Bradford was away, with almost 300 yards to the pin. He hit 5-wood trying to get into the 100-110 yard range. Mission accomplished.

Buzz took his time. He had caught a bad lie. His ball had rolled into the front of a sand filled divot, making it difficult to make clean contact with a fairway wood. It would be easy to hit the ball fat, and with water in front of the green, going for the green would be a risky play. Buzz had a tough decision. Surprisingly, he accepted the bad break and decided to lay up with a 6-iron. His cursing just added a little flavoring.

As the players walked toward the 9th green Bradford thought back to his first international financing deal, which was the start of his current problems. Things seemed so simple then.

Dave's mortgage business grew rapidly. His success with Oyster Bay and the Lake Buena Vista Holiday Inn was quickly followed by six other deals ranging from a $2M refinance of a Best Western Hotel in Georgia to the purchase of a $22M office building in Memphis, TN. He closed $75 Million dollars of business the first year.

In March Bradford received a call from another broker about an opportunity in Cozumel, Mexico. His client wanted to purchase a golf course and develop the surrounding property with condominiums and timeshares. The total project was approximately $45M.

Dave's first instinct was to say no; international financing was not his focus and he had more than enough domestic business to keep busy. Instead, Dave heard himself asking the broker to email him an executive summary. He had never been to Cozumel.

Bradford started to look for lenders that did financing south of the border. The news was not good. Most lenders still remembered Mexico's peso devaluation in the 80's and the money they lost. Today's business climate in Mexico and Central America looked better, but Western bankers and elephants have a lot in common. It wasn't just big teeth.

The four lenders Bradford used for his domestic deals don't do business in Mexico. The Royal Bank of Canada and Credit Suisse claim to be players, but really only work with select customers. The deal had to be squeaky clean. Banco Popular and other large Mexican banks make few loans of this size. They simply don't have the money.

He had better luck with the niche lenders. Several companies that specialize in golf course financing did business in Mexico. Two other groups specialized in timeshare developments and had closed deals in Mexico and the Caribbean. Mary helped with the research and was getting pretty good at surfing the web. Her help was invaluable. So far we had avoided the problems some couples experience when working together.

The Executive Summary was excellent and painted a clear picture of the dilemma. It would have been an easy deal in the U.S. The borrower, Don Majors, had $5M in cash equity plus 2,000 hectares of land that had been donated by his Mexican partner. The land was valued $10M, as-is.

Timeshare sales were fueled by offering discounted green fees to cruise ships. "Take a 45 minute tour and play our championship golf course at half price – Buy a condo or timeshare unit and play for free the rest of your life." It was a catchy marketing plan; particularly when you saw the number of cruise ships that visited Cozumel each year.

Fifteen million dollars equity for a $45M loan is pretty good assuming they make the loan payment. The existing golf course was profitable, but did not have sufficient cash flow to support a $30M loan. Interest payments would be at least $200,000 per month. They needed $7M additional equity to make it work. The deal appeared to be at a dead end until fate stepped in and delivered an angel.

Mary and Dave became close friends with Fred and Judy Shelton as well as Buzz and Jill. The six friends were having dinner at Bern's Steakhouse in South Tampa when the conversation turned to scuba diving. All three men, and Jill, were PADI certified. Mary and Judy were quite happy to float on top of the water with a snorkel.

Buzz had dived everywhere and he regaled us with stories about shipwrecks, sharks, moray eels, giant sea turtles all the other beautiful creatures you see at depths of 40-120 feet. We agreed that some of the best coral formations were here in Florida and the Caribbean.

Dave mentioned he was thinking of going down to Cozumel on "business" and that generated four offers to help. Both Buzz and Fred thought Cozumel offered some of the best diving in the world if you got away from the commercial cruise ship destinations where novices had destroyed most of the coral.

"What are you doing in Cozumel?" Fred asked.

"Mary did most of the preliminary work. You tell them Mary."

"Dave's being too kind, but, okay, here goes nothing. This group is trying to buy a golf course and build about 400 condos and timeshare units on some adjacent farmland. They are only 10 miles from the cruise ships so they plan to offer golf discounts to tourists willing to take their 1-hour sales tour. Is that about it, Dave?"

"That's perfect, except to say that the deal looks pretty dead right now. I don't think we can help them unless they come up with more money. It's a shame because the project will work. The cruise ship business will be enough to make them profitable, plus they will make money from the timeshares and condos. Anybody have an extra $7M?"

Everyone spoke at once. Fred offered to sell Judy's earrings. Jill offered to sell one of Fred's restaurants.

Buzz got the floor; "Jill and I took a cruise to Cozumel last year and took the golf excursion. We paid $125 per person plus $25 to rent clubs. The golf course was okay - nothing special. The equipment was crappy. There definitely is an opportunity for someone offering a quality package."

"Yeah, he hit three drives out of bounds on the back nine, and blamed the driver," piped in Jill.

Dave came to Buzz' defense after the laughter and ribbing died down. "It's interesting you mentioned that Jill; the business plan addressed exactly that point. Golfers would have the choice of top equipment including Callaway and Wilson. I guess they knew what they were talking about."

"Why don't we all go there," Mary asked? "We can do a little diving and snorkeling and meet with the owners. Maybe Dave can get him to pop for a few free rounds? Anybody interested in a three or four-day weekend in Cozumel? Mary suggested going a week from Wednesday and returning Sunday." Nobody questioned her new math.

Saturday night everyone wanted to go, but as it turned out, Jill couldn't get off work and Buzz decided he couldn't make it either. He sounded disappointed. Did he decide that he couldn't go, or did Jill?

Fred called me Monday to confirm. "We're looking forward to it, Dave. We love Cozumel. We'll be able to show you around. By the way, I hope you don't mind, but I mentioned your deal to Mario. Mario knows someone that might be interested in providing some equity. He asked that you call him this afternoon."

"Thanks Fred, I don't mind. It sounds like you just earned your tax deduction for the trip. I'll let you know how the conversation goes with Mario."

"Mario, Dave Bradford. How are you today? Fred mentioned he talked with you about the Cozumel deal."

"That's right. Fred said it was an interesting project, but they were short about $7M. If an investor came up with $7M, what would it buy them?"

"That's up to the investor and the developer to negotiate, Mario. I would guess that $7M equity would get him 8%-10% interest on the money, plus 30% to 40% ownership or a preferred percentage of profits. But that's up to them, Mario. The loan would need to be subordinated to the mortgage debt. Do you know what your friend has in mind?"

"I'll get back to you tomorrow if he is interested. Nice talking with you again, Dave."

Mario got back to Bradford the next day. His friend was interested. Dave arranged a conference call with Don Majors and Mario's investor the following day. Things progressed smoothly and their partnership agreement was finalized and the financing secured before we left for Cozumel. It would take another 60 days to close, but everything was in place.

Bradford's share would be 1% of the loan amount and 3% of the equity raised. He paid the other broker a $100,000 finder's fee. Mario was also entitled to a commission but preferred to have Bradford in his debt rather than accept a referral fee. In retrospect, Bradford should have paid him the fee.

Cozumel was more beautiful than Dave expected. The first day Mary and Ginny fended for themselves while Fred and Dave met with the client, Don Majors, and reviewed the property. Dave had been asked by the lender to do a site inspection to verify that everything was as shown in the loan application. It was. They didn't golf, but took a tour of the golf course while Don pointed out the proposed locations of the condominiums. By early afternoon Dave had created a preliminary draw schedule. The loan totaled $27M but would be dispersed over 18 months as certain criteria were met.

The next two days Don and his wife insisted on being their personal tour guides. It didn't hurt that they had a 40-foot boat and loved to snorkel. They knew the locations where the tourists didn't go. Don was also a diver with spare SCUBA equipment. The men did a couple wreck dives, but the snorkeling was so fantastic, they spent most of the time with the women floating lazily on the surface.

Mary and Don's wife were the same age and got along like old friends. Dave was glad to see Mary so happy. By Sunday they were ready to go home, but promised they would be back. "Fred, how about you; did you and Ginny have a good time?"

"We did, but four days is just about right. I'll be happy to get back. If Mario asks, I'll tell him it looks like his friend made a good investment. The project looks good and Don looks like a solid guy. Do you agree?"

"I do, Fred. It's the kind of deal I wish I had the money to invest in."

"Be patient, Dave. Your opportunity will come."

"I tell you Romano, Juan and Diego are gone. We found pieces of the boat floating about 20 miles south of Key West, and some clothing, but no bodies. It looked like an explosion. Juan never made it home and we have heard nothing from Diego since that night. We have divers trying to find the boat, but they don't have much hope. The water is 150 feet deep and the current is strong." Carlos finished his report and waited.

Romano looked at Mario and then back at Carlos. It was just the three of them. Sam and Ron had told what they knew, answered a few questions, and had been excused. He was not pleased.

"Let me summarize; we are out $32M, we think that we have a rat that tipped off the Narcs, but have no idea who. Coincidentally, we lost a boat, and both Juan and Diego have disappeared. Anything else?"

Mario stood and walked back to the buffet table. "Two things, Romano. First, there is a discrepancy that has been bothering me. My sources inside the District Attorney's Office are telling me the drug bust was $24M, not $32M. They swear that they recovered only six bags of heroin. We all heard Sam and Ron say they dropped eight bags. What happened to the other two?"

Romano was not pleased. "Carlos, what do we know about Diego?"

"Diego is as tough as they come, Romano. He has been with us over ten years. I don't see him doing something like this on his own and I don't see him working with the DEA. It's possible he was bribed. We are looking in to it, but I'll say this, Diego is not someone you want as an enemy."

"How do you figure it, Carlos?" Mario asked. "Is there any way Sam and Ron could be involved? I don't see how. The DEA claims to have made the pickup somewhere around 2:00 AM. Sam didn't get the pickup coordinates from your dispatcher until 6:00 AM after they left the dock."

Carlos thought a moment before answering. "That's the second thing I wanted to talk about. Someone tipped off the DEA. My guess is that your boys are clean. They don't have the balls to steal the junk and then bluff it out. They are the type that would grab and run as fast and far as they could. Keep an eye on them, but I doubt if they are involved."

"The dispatcher appears to be clean. I gave him the coordinates in code around 10:00 PM. He called the coded message to Diego about midnight and later called Sam around 6:00 AM. The dispatcher doesn't know the code and isn't smart enough to figure it out. I guess it's possible the DEA intercepted the phone call, and broke the code. Obviously, we will need to change our procedures."

"Juan probably exploded with the boat and either went down to the bottom or was eaten by sharks. It's possible he was turned by the DEA, but I don't see how he could have helped them. He didn't know the drop coordinates. Besides, Juan would never leave his family. I doubt if we will ever see him again. It's too bad. I liked Juan. What bothers me is that I can't see the DEA blowing up the boat. Why would they do that?"

"Diego is another matter. Somebody on our end tipped off the DEA and it appears that someone also skimmed part of the shipment. If it was Diego, why not steal the entire shipment? The two missing bags have me stymied. There must be a third party, but I don't know who it could be."

"Okay, Carlos, thanks for coming on such short notice," said Romano. "Have a nice trip back tomorrow. Let me know immediately if you find out anything more. In the meantime, let's come up with a new plan to ship the goods."

After Carlos left, Romano poured himself a drink and offered one to Mario. "No thanks, I'll stick with water for now. Let's talk about our bigger problem. Do you still want to go ahead with the casino project?"

"Yes I do, Mario. It's even more important now. Will this set us back?"

"No question it changes our plans. We needed the $30M as equity for the construction loan. Now we need to borrow the entire $150M. Our bank won't do it. The auditors would find it and raise too many flags. We don't want that kind of attention."

"I have another idea, Romano. Do you remember the golf course deal in Cozumel where we invested the $7M through that business associate of yours?"

"Sure, that has turned out great for us and is exactly the type of cash flow business that we need to develop. What's that got to do with the casino?"

"Well, the guy that set up the deal for us is a friend of mine. His name is Dave Bradford. Dave's a go-getter, with a strong financial background, and has been closing a lot of mortgage deals lately. He has a good reputation and might be just the guy we need right now."

"What's your idea, Mario?"

"Let's set Bradford up as the financial front man for our projects and use his company as a shell to hide our investments. He can find us the money for all our projects, not just Mexico. Down the road, we might even hire his firm to oversee the accounting and financial controls systems we will need. He doesn't need to know about our end of the business."

"Okay, Mario, let's do it. I like the idea of allowing someone else to take the heat if something goes wrong. Be careful. Take it one step at a time."

Two days later there was a meeting in Zurich, Switzerland relating to the same subject. Five men were seated around an ornate conference table on the 3rd floor of a leading investment house. The American at the head of the table was finishing his report.

"Everything went as we planned; Mario's bank financing fell through. They will come to us and, of course, we will help them out, in exchange for a small piece of the project. Eventually we will get majority control."

Bradford's' ball was sitting up perfectly, 122 yards to a middle pin. Buzz was even with the red 100-yard marker. Dave hit pitching wedge a little fat and came up 20 feet short. Not too bad, but not great. Buzz' sand wedge landed 10 feet behind the hole, and spun back to within a foot for a kick-in birdie. Dave knew he had to make his putt to halve the hole.

"Great shot, Buzz."

No response.

Dave's birdie putt was just slightly up hill and a little right to left. He hit the putt firm, too firm. It was dead center a foot from the hole, but caught the grain and veered right. It caught the right edge of the cup and did a 360. The ball hung on the lip in the front of the cup and refused to drop.

Buzz tapped in for his birdie and was two up at the turn.

Chapter 10

Par 4 – 410 yards

Mario's Yacht – Fishing for Marlin

Bradford stopped in the clubhouse to get a sandwich and coke. Buzz was at the bar drinking a Budweiser and stuffing a six-pack into a small cooler. It was only 11 AM.

"Dave, over here." Mary was at a table with Jill and a few other tennis players. She wanted an update; Dave wanted to know how her tennis match with Jill went. There was a winner's trophy on the table.

"First, tell me which one of you is celebrating and which one is pretending? He knew that both Mary and Jill were highly competitive and neither liked to lose. They were evenly matched with most of their matches going three sets.

"Jill got me today, 7-5 in the third."

"It could have gone either way" Jill interjected. "It was a tough match, as always. Mary's a fighter."

"I know that, Jill. Congratulations on your win! And congratulations to you, too Mary; I'm proud of you." For emphasis, he leaned down and gave her a kiss.

"Okay, your turn."

"Buzz has me by a couple holes, but I'm starting to hit the ball better. I think I'll do better on the back nine. We can't let Buzz and Jill win everything." Dave winked at Jill to make sure she knew he was kidding. Since Dave's falling out with Buzz, relations with Jill were strained.

"Good luck," Mary shouted as Dave grabbed his sandwich and headed for the 10th tee. Part of him had wanted Mary to walk with him today, but her tennis match had been too important. Mary had won the Club Championship two years in a row, both times beating Jill in the finals. He was sure she was disappointed in losing today.

It was comforting to know Mary was pulling for him. He just wished they could put their problems behind them and start fresh again. He would give anything to have a mulligan for that ill-fated fishing trip to the Bahamas.

The ocean wind whipped Bradford's hair and the saltwater mist stung his face. Bradford stood on the bow of Mario's 60-foot yacht as they cruised at ten knots towards Longboat Key, just fast enough to keep the fishing lines taut. Yesterday they caught 15 kingfish, two of which were his. He wondered how anything could be better than this.

"Is everything okay?" Fred asked; "need anything?"

"Everything's fine; this is awesome. If I were unattached and had the money, I would sell my home and live on a boat."

"It would probably get old after awhile, but it sure would be fun for a while. Mario and I talk about trying taking a six-month trip with the wives now that are kids are gone, but something always pops up. Besides, I get a kick out of my restaurants and making money. I'll save this for weekends and vacations."

"You're probably right, Fred. I'm having fun with my work right now too. Maybe I could change my focus and start financing yachts and marinas. With computers and cell phones, I could do both. Ninety percent of my business is done from my office anyway."

"And your kids could learn to fish and scuba dive all day. Eventually they can get a job for Sea World, feeding fish to the dolphins and whales. What's his name; Shamu?"

"Okay, I get your point. It's no way to raise a family."

"Get ready for lunch. We are only 20 minutes from Key West. I'm interested to see what Mario has planned."

Thursday afternoon Buzz, Bill and Dave had driven down to Miami and stayed at Mario's house. Fred had driven down the day before on restaurant business, and joined them at Mario's. Dave had originally declined the invitation for this "men-only fishing trip", but Mary talked him into going. They were busy at work, but Mary thought it would be good to get away for a few days. It felt good to relax.

The three friends arrived after 9:00 PM, allowing time for a little conversation, sandwich and a couple beers before heading for bed. "Get some sleep," Mario ordered. "The fish are early risers."

Bradford was sleeping soundly when the alarm sounded at 5:00 AM. This fishing business wasn't all it was cracked up to be, he thought. By six they were at the marina.

"Gee. Mario, is that your boat or your 2nd house? Unbelievable! It's huge. Why didn't we just sleep here?"

"We could have Dave. There are three cabins below. Let me give you the tour. I've only had it a few months and I'm pretty proud of it. Maybe next time we will take the wives down to the Bahamas and stay out for a few days"

"You should be proud, Mario. Excuse, my ignorance, but what is it?"

"It's a Bertram 570 with a 1420 HP engine and holds about 1600 gallons of fuel. We could easily go to the Bahamas and back. 57' is still small enough to maneuver into small docks. You can see the bait wells, fresh and saltwater faucets, tackle; all the things I need for fishing tournaments."

Bradford had never been on a boat this big, he thought, as Mario took him below.

"The kitchen has a range, refrigerator, freezer and a table that seats six. That's the master stateroom, VIP cabin with a queen bed and the 3rd cabin with twin beds. Each cabin has a TV and computer hookup."

"Mario, this is great. Thanks for inviting me along. I'm not much of a fisherman."

"Well, I hope you catch some fish this weekend. You will see how exciting it is to catch your first big fish. Today we will do a little fishing and go back to my house and sleep in comfort, and tomorrow I have a little surprise planned for everyone. Monday I was hoping you could stick around for a few hours. There is something I would like to bounce off you."

"No problem, Mario. I'm at your disposal."

While the marina topped off the fuel tanks and Mario and Fred checked the equipment, Buzz and Bill went in and bought the ice and bait, mostly live shrimp, shad and minnows. $250 and 45 minutes later they were ready to go.

Two friends of Mario's joined them. Fred and Buzz knew both of them from previous trips and greeted them warmly. Alberto was a CPA and Kurt said he was a business consultant, whatever that meant. They both knew their way around the boat.

Bradford was the only rookie on Board and everyone was willing to show him the ropes. Dave had plenty of time to learn the art of deep-sea fishing during the 90 minutes it took to get to "our spot". His first decision was whether to have lemon or lime in his Bloody Mary.

Dave was on his 2nd drink when Mario announced they were there. Sonar was showing a school of fish, the rest was up to them. Hooks were baited, lines were let out and the poles were set. Mario steered the boat in a wide circle at about two knots, just enough to keep the bait near the top of the water. Dave sat with his Bloody Mary and watched his line, not sure what he was looking for. "You'll know when you see it."

Five minutes later, the fish struck. Dave's line ran out so fast that he jumped up and spilled his drink. Luckily, it was almost empty. "I got something!"

"Grab the pole and set the line," Buzz instructed.

Dave grabbed the pole but had no idea how about how tp set the line. Buzz reached over and set the reel to create a drag. "Give him some slack and let him run".

Dave's blank expression told Buzz that he wasn't getting through. He took the pole. "Here, watch me."

Dave watched as Buzz expertly played the fish as it made several tries to get away. It jumped three times, each jump a thing of beauty. Someone said it was a marlin, at least 45 inches, a big one. "Here, you take it, Dave. Be careful. He's getting tired but still has some fight in him."

Bradford reclaimed his pole and was surprised at the strength it took to control the fish. It took 15 minutes before the marlin tired and he was able to reel him close enough to the boat for Kurt to net. Congratulations lasted a couple minutes during which time he was presented a beer to celebrate. Apparently Bloody Marys were only a warm-up for real fishermen. Dave's time in the sun lasted only until the next strike.

"Hey, you guys. There are two poles over here losing a lot of line. Anybody interested in fishing?" Thirty minutes later Bill and Alberto had reeled in nice sized marlin, and had a Budweiser to celebrate. Meanwhile Buzz and Kurt were working their catches.

It went like this for the next four hours, with a short pause for lunch and more beer. Bill and Dave said "no mas" and switched to coke. After lunch Bradford had another strike and managed to reel in a 40-pound tarpon without help. Dave was more than a little bit proud as he posed for the obligatory picture, before releasing the tarpon back into the Gulf. This fishing stuff was fun.

After his fourth fish, Dave didn't even bother to bait his hook. He eventually wandered downstairs to get a coke and look around a little. The last thing he remembered was lying down for a few minutes in the VIP cabin. He must have dozed off because all of a sudden Bill was shaking him.

"Are you going to sleep on the boat, Dave, or go back to Mario's with the rest of us?"

It was a relaxing evening. There is nothing like fresh fish, seasoned in a special sauce and then grilled on an open BBQ pit and eaten al fresco. Three glasses of Pinot Grigio just added to the taste.

After dinner the friends relaxed on the veranda and enjoyed a beautiful sunset and view of the ocean. Bill was talking politics again. His friend, Joe Martinez, was running for District Attorney and Bill was his campaign manager and fundraiser. It sounded like Martinez had a good shot of winning the Democratic nomination and eventually the election. Fred and Mario apparently were heavy contributors. Dave knew that sooner or later Bill would call on him. It wouldn't hurt to have friends like Martinez..

The conversation was winding down and Kurt and Alberto were getting ready to leave. Everyone was tired from the long day. Mario stood up and got everyone's attention. "Before you leave, I have an announcement. Tomorrow, we're going to cruise down to Key West for lunch and pick up a few friends of mine. After lunch we'll be heading towards Nassau where we'll spend the evening, see a show, and maybe try our luck at the blackjack and crap tables. I also have a little surprise lined up for you."

Buzz had honors and chose driver. Winning the ninth hole and two quick beers had put him in a good mood. "Are you ready for a beating, Dave? You're two down and it's going to get worse. You can quit now if you want."

"It's a nice day, Buzz, and I enjoy your company so much. Why don't I just play along and keep you company."

Buzz's mood soured when he over swung, and blocked his tee shot into the woods on the right. "Damn it" he muttered, "why do I do this to myself?"

Dave hit a nice drive down the left side leaving him a good angle into the green. There was still water and two greenside bunkers to worry about, but he was in good shape.

Mario's little surprise in Key West turned out to be lunch at Hemmingway's where two gorgeous young ladies joined us, neither of who was much older than Dave's12-year-old daughter. That might be a little exaggeration, but not much; 21 tops. The next surprise was when Dave learned that the girls would be joining them for the rest of the day, and apparently the night; Mario's idea of a surprise. Dave now understood why Mary doesn't like surprises.

The girls names were Kim and Cyndi, and it soon became apparent that they had more to offer than good looks. Minutes after leaving the dock, the girls were topless. Kim was helping Mario and Buzz with the navigation. Cyndi went to the stern where Kurt and Alberto were trying to fish.

Dave headed to the bow of the boat to relax for the 3-hour boat ride, and was joined by Bill and Fred. Cyndi took their drink orders and they ordered gin and tonics. Dave tried hard to look her in the eye when he ordered his drink, but couldn't help watching as Cyndi walked away. Fred couldn't help laughing at Dave's embarrassment.

The casino was rocking. The $10 blackjack tables were full, so Bill, Fred and Dave moved to the $25 table. Dave was hot early, and enjoyed a string where the dealer busted six hands in a row. He followed Kenny Rogers' advice in "The Gambler" and didn't count his chips but figured he was up a couple thousand.

Dave then hit the proverbial wall. Nothing he did was right. He was dealt a 6 and a 5 and doubled down. The dealer's card was a 4 with a 10 in the hole. He hit a 7 for 21. The next hand Bradford split 8's, and drew 18 and 17, while the dealer showed 16. The dealer hit a three. The dealer's hot streak went on for the next hour. Dave should have walked away but he decided to ride it out. The $2,000 rapidly disappeared and he reached into his pocket several times. Dave was down $3,000 and starting to press. He also was starting to play dumb. He took a chance and split 10's against the dealer's 5. Rather than taking a sure win, he lost both hands when the dealer hit to 19. Later he took a hit with 13 when the dealer's up card was a 5. Other players at the table were starting glancing at him and he finally knew it was time to walk away. He was down $6,500. Bill and Fred had left an hour ago.

Bradford cashed in and looked for his friends to say good night. He spotted Fred at the crap table, having a string of good luck. Fred was being cheered on by Mario and Buzz. Bradford watched as Fred made his point seven times in a row, backing it up with side bets. He made 4 the hard way. He played the field several times and won. He was on a hot streak that gamblers dream about. There is nothing crazier than a crap table where the roller is hot. Everybody is happy, even the house. It's free publicity and they know that in the long run, it won't last.

Bradford jumped on the tail end of Fred's hot streak and managed to win a few hundred dollars by betting on the come line, which means that he was betting that the roller would beat the house. He decided to double up, just when Fred luck changed. Fred shook boxcars, or craps. They lost their bets, but Fred still had the dice. Dave put $500 on the pass line and backed it up when Fred rolled a six for his point. His next roll was a seven. They lost again

Bradford was standing to the left of Fred so the dice came to him. Dave felt lucky and wagered $500. He come out roll was an eight, and Dave played the percentages and backed up his bet. He also bet the numbers 4, 5, 6, 8, 9 10, 11, putting a $50 chip on each. He rolled a five and won a few dollars, but immediately followed it with a 7 – craps! Bradford had lost approximately $4,000 in 15 minutes. That's how it is in craps. You can win a lot in a hurry or you can lose a lot very fast. Bradford was down $10,000 and decided to call it a night.

Fred and Mario stayed at the tables. They were still way ahead. Bradford headed for the elevators where he ran into Cyndi. She noticed his glum expression and offered sympathy and a back rub. Mary knows what a sucker Dave was for back rubs.

The next morning Bradford awoke with a headache and a sick feeling. Cyndi was gone, but he remembered that the back rub had turned into much more. It felt tremendous at the time, but in the glare of the morning sunlight, Dave felt the guilt. He also feet sick about the gambling losses. Business was good, but he couldn't afford to lose $10,000. _Next time I'll win it back, he thought._

Bradford was depressed on the boat ride home. The others tried to cheer him up, assuming that his bad mood was a result of gambling losses. That was only part of it. Apparently Buzz had seen Dave get on the elevator with Cyndi, and guessed at the rest of the story. He made a few attempts at humor which were met with a sullen stare. Bradford decided that he would rather feel remorse in private. They weren't married, or even engaged, he rationalized, but Bradford knew he had broken an unspoken promise. _How would he feel if Mary had cheated on him?_

Buzz was dead behind a tree with a large root in front of his ball. He could punch out and hope to get up and down from 160 yards, or he could try for a miracle shot and take the chance of breaking his wrist. Few people could pull off this shot. Sergio Garcia in the 2002 PGA, but Buzz was not Sergio. Dave was disappointed when Buzz decided to play safe.

Buzz punched out and still had 145 yards to the hole. His pitching wedge came up just short of the green. Dave hit 9-iron to about 20 feet. Buzz's chip rolled 10 feet past and Dave 2-putted for the win.

Bradford was only one down, with 26 holes to play.

Chapter 11

Par 5 – 530 yards

Mario's Proposal - the Mexico Casino Project

The DEA had been monitoring Mario's movements for some time. Monday they called in to report. "The new guy's name is Dave Bradford, from Tampa. We have some great pictures, particularly of the girls. The other men we have seen before. Bradford and Mario's restaurant partner stayed the night. The others left right after they docked. Martin and Peters are headed back to Tampa."

Mario's Miami business associates went home yesterday, but just showed up at the office an hour ago. Mario and the new guy, Dave I think, just got into the office too. No Fred. There must be something going down."

"Keep an eye on them if you can. Were the hookers able to tell you anything about Bradford?"

"Just that he is a unlucky gambler and a sucker for backrubs. Cyndi said he came across as a pretty straight guy. We'll see."

The par-5 11th is a slight dogleg right, and is reachable in two, particularly for Buzz. Friday Dave reached it with a driver and 3-wood. Today he popped-up his drive and didn't even reach the first cut of the fairway. Dave didn't need Ken to tell him that he swung too hard. Buzz crushed a drive down the right side, narrowly missing the fairway bunker. Advantage, Buzz.

Dave's second shot was almost as bad, topping a 3-wood, and leaving 190 yards to the green. _Relax, Dave thought. He could hear Ken saying; tempo, slow down, don't sway. He started laughing, thinking of the all the things Ken had taught him. I wish he were here to pick the right one. Maybe I was thinking too much?_

Buzz was only 220 to a back pin and hit 3-wood to the center of the green. Bradford cleared his mind and attempted to slow down his swing. The result was better, but he still ended up 20 yards short of the green. _Maybe I swayed or something? Who knows?_ Dave's pitching wedge almost hit the flag but rolled through the green to the back-fringe. Dave was lying 4, and still had a 20 footer for par. Buzz narrowly missed his eagle putt and tapped in for birdie and a 2-up lead.

Dave came downstairs around 8 o'clock and Mario and Fred were on the veranda having breakfast. Fred and Dave stayed at Mario's Sunday evening while Bill and Buzz had driven home.

"Join us, Dave," Mario offered. "There is fruit and Danish on the counter. Coffee and juice are on the table. Help yourself."

"Coffee and juice are fine Mario, I'm not hungry," Dave said as he sat down. "Tell me, what's the plan today?"

"You and I are going to head down to my offices in Miami Beach. Alberto, Kurt and Pedro have prepared a one hour overview on some projects we are working on. After that, I have a proposal that I think may interest you; if not, no hard feelings. Fred will be pick you up after lunch to drive you back to Tampa."

"Can you give me an idea of what we are talking about?"

"Sure, but I would prefer not to get into the details until after you see our little dog-and-pony show. I'm looking for a partner on a series of projects we are planning throughout the United States, Mexico and the Caribbean. I think you may be the person."

Why would Mario need me? I wondered as we drove to Mario's office.

Thirty minutes later Mario started the presentation. "Dave, our goal is to be one of the largest resort development and management companies in the world. Kurt, start us off. Dave, Jump in if you have questions".

"We have 10 projects that we consider Phases I and II of our development plan," Kurt explained as he projected a chart onto the wall.

Phase - Project Name - Est. Cost

1.1 Cabo San Lucas, Mx Resort and Casino $350M

1.2 Miami Beach Marina and Condominiums $150M

1.3 Dominican Republic Mixed Use Facility $275M

1.4 Las Vegas Casino & Golf Course $225M

Total Phase I Funding Requirements One Billion Dollars

2.1 Costa Rica Resort and Ecology Center

2.2 Palm Beach Condominium Development

2.3 San Miguel Del Lago Resort & Casino

2.4 St Martin Golf Course & Condominiums

2.5 Orlando Convention Center & Hotel

2.6 Honduras Mountain Resort

Total Phase II Estimate (WAG) $3.2 Billion

Bradford was overwhelmed by the magnitude of Mario's plans and the money they were looking at raising. $4.2 Billion dollars was more than he could grasp.

Kurt skipped over the Cabo San Lucas project. He had two or three slides for the other nine. There were color photos of the existing property sites to supplement the Power Point slides. Mario and Alberto interrupted several times to clarify a point or describe the beauty of the undeveloped land. Apparently, Mario had been to each project location. Several questions popped into Dave's mind, but he decided to just watch and learn.

Kurt completed his portion of the presentation. "That's it, Dave."

"Any questions at this point" Mario interjected?

Dave thought for a moment. "Well, Mario; it seems like a large mouthful to bite off for a small organization, or am I missing something? $4.2 Billion is more than I could comprehend. How do you plan on financing that much money?"

"Dave, Alberto will get into the timeframes, manpower and revenue streams. How we raise the $4.2B is why you are here. Alberto, you're up?"

Alberto used Excel spreadsheets and Gantt charts to break out their funding needs. "Dave, we will need $4.2 billion, but not all at once."

The next slide showed a time-phased implementation plan for the ten projects. "As you can see, we will need about one billion the first year. This allows us to start the Cabo San Lucas Casino and the three other Phase I projects. We won't start the six Phase II projects until Year 3, after the casino is open and throwing off profits. By year seven the projects are self-funding. Return on investment is approximately 30%."

"I'll ask the million dollar question again, or should I say the billion dollar question; where are you getting the money?"

"That's why you're here. Dave, we need help. As I told you earlier, our Mexican banks pulled out at the last minute. We need to find another financial partner."

"Why me, Mario? Why not some large firm that has more resources and experience than I have?"

"Dave, we believe in doing business with friends; people we know. It makes for a better, long-term relationship. We are impressed with your work on the Cozumel project, and the work you are doing in Orlando. Fred speaks well of you, as have Joe and several others that we contacted."

"I appreciate that Mario, but raising even one billion dollars won't be easy. What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Here's what I was thinking, Dave. We'd like you to head up a new company that will raise the money for these projects. This company would also be responsible for establishing audit controls and managing the investment of profits. In return, you would receive normal broker commissions and a small percentage of the business; let's say 5%. Alberto, do you care to add anything?"

"Mario mentioned financial controls over these projects. Any lender will require this. There is going to be a lot of cash handled. Your background with Arthur Andersen is perfect."

"That's a lot to digest," Dave said aloud as he tried to grasp their offer. _It seemed too good to be true._

"Dave, listen to Pedro's presentation regarding the Cabo San Lucas project while you think about it. This will be our flagship and Pedro will be the General Manager of the hotel and casino when we open."

The project was huge; In addition to a 400 room, five star Marriott, there was a 50,000 sq. ft. casino with 200 slot machines, 30 blackjack tables, five crap tables, two discos, three restaurants and a variety of other amenities including two Fazio designed golf courses.

"The project is ready to begin; all we needed is $500 Million in initial funding. We thought we had the financing arranged through the Bank of Mexico, but the bank backed off at the last minute."

When Pedro finished, Mario asked, "Well, Dave, any questions?"

"Mario. How much equity do you have in these projects? Are we looking for an 80% loan to value, 90%? Will you consider giving up a portion of ownership?"

"We have $10M cash invested in the Cabo project plus land appraised at $20M. Who knows what a lender will want? We are open to any reasonable suggestions, Dave, as long as we keep 51% ownership and day-to-day control."

"Are you interested?

"I still have some reservations, Mario. You've given me a lot to think about. May I have a week or two to mull it over before I decide?"

"That's fine, Dave. If you have any questions, feel free to call anybody here. So, if that's all, why don't we see if Fred's here and you head back to Tampa."

Bradford had a lot to think about on the way home.

"They just finished. Shelton and Bradford look like they are heading back to Tampa. Is there anything else you want me to do here?"

"Try to find out what you can about this Bradford guy and how he fits into Mario's operation. Ask the FBI to do a background check. This could be important."

Chapter 12

Par 3 – 145 yards

Daytona Beach Hotel Financing

The short par 3 looks simple, but plays tough. It's the number 7 handicap hole for the men. It gives up a lot of birdies, but also lots of fives and sixes. It's all carry over a pond to an undulating green. Bunkers on both sides, and an environmental area in back, protect the small, 1500' green.

Buzz hated this hole and was complaining long before his pitching wedge dribbled into the right-side sand trap. With the pin on the right, he was only 20 feet from the hole, but looking at a likely bogey. Bradford chose 8-iron and hit to the center of the green. Smart shot!

As they walked to the green, Dave thought back to the first time he met Ken.

Tuesday, Bradford arrived early at his new offices. The "executive office suites" had served him well, but his business had grown. The new offices had 10,000 sq. ft. with an option to expand. Last month they had hired three new people and were looking for more.

Sally was already there working with Joan, her new leasing assistant. The leasing business had grown rapidly. Sally could now concentrate more on developing new business.

Grace, an experienced woman with three grand children, was the new secretary and office manager. She would handle most of the day-to-day workload that Mary had been stuck with. Mary was still helping out part-time, but doing most of her work was from home on her computer.

Eric Jenkins had 15 years experience in the commercial mortgage business and brought several lender contacts and clients with him. Bradford saw this as their fasted growth area. Eric was a good hire.

Sunday's Tampa Tribune included Mary's advertisement for experienced, professional help. There were numerous responses. Bradford was still looking for another leasing person and one or two people on the commercial mortgage side of the business. Considering Mario's offer, it looked like they would need someone soon.

Bradford spent the next half hour checking email. There were several messages; the most interesting was from Joe Fredericks whom he had met at the Buccaneers football game. He called and left a message.

Joe called back around 11:00. "Dave, Joe Fredericks here. I'm surprised you are at work. I thought you would still be on vacation, spending Mary's winnings from the football pool."

"Very funny, you saw as much of her winnings as I did. It's great you called. Fred asked me yesterday if we had ever gotten together. You must have heard us talking. What's on your mind?

"Dave, how about you and Mary coming over to Daytona Beach and being our guests this weekend? We could talk a little business and Mary could enjoy the beach and spa. How's your schedule look?"

"I would love to Joe, but I'm not sure when Mary could get away. I could make it Thursday afternoon. I have a 9:00 AM meeting in Lake Buena Vista, which is about half way. I could drive over after the meeting. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good, but tell Mary she has an open invitation to a world class spa. Try to get here by 1:00 PM and we will have lunch with Ken Reid, my CFO. In the meantime, give me your email address and Ken will send you the financial statements. Call Ken directly if you have any questions. See you Thursday."

An hour later a "beep" indicated that Ken's email had arrived. The email had an attachment for each of their seven hotels plus a consolidated statement. Bradford looked up their website and discovered that all seven hotels were oceanfront. He would be working late tonight.

By 11:00 PM it was apparent that Joe's loan would not be easy. Joe was pushing the envelope. He essentially wanted the largest loan possible at the lowest rate with the most flexibility. Doesn't everyone?

Dave had several questions for Ken, but decided to save them for Thursday. There was a lot of research to do before the meeting.

Bradford arrived in Daytona Beach, Thursday, at precisely 1:00. Joe was in a meeting but Ken came out to the lobby and introduced himself. He was not your typical CFO. Ken looked more like golf pro than a CPA; tall, slim, casual clothing, longish hair and an informal manner. Bradford would find out later that this initial impression was quite accurate.

Dave and went back to Ken's office and talked for 30 minutes. Ken answered a few business-related questions, but spent most of the time talking about the stock market and golf trophies on his credenza. Ken was knowledgeable and easy to talk with.

Joe came in and greeted Bradford warmly. "How are you, Dave, it's good to see you again. Are you ready for lunch? Let's go downstairs and talk a little business, but keep in mind, there are no free lunches." We laughed and headed downstairs.

"Dave, we have four hotels that we need to refinance quickly. Three of the four are on a single bridge loan with Credit Suisse that balloons in 90 days. We pay a significant penalty to add another year. We also need to walk away from closing with some cash in our pocket. I have my eye on two waterfront properties just north of here that I can get at rock bottom prices."

"Ken indicates you are looking to get loan at 75 to 80% Loan to Value. Isn't that pushing it a little?"

"Sure, but 80% LTV gets me the $5M I need; 75% isn't enough. I am confident you have sources that will do it. Am I right?"

"I'll do my best, Joe. If we get you 80%, is the lunch free?"

"It's free, and I'll throw in a lifetime membership to our spa for you and Mary. In fact, I have you scheduled for a Swedish massage at 5:00 this afternoon after Ken gives you the grand tour. We have seven oceanfront properties, all here in Daytona Beach. That's our market niche. Dave, I really appreciate your being here and I look forward to getting that extra $6-7 Million."

_That was Joe, always pushing the envelope_.

The hotels were all within a 5-mile strip along Daytona Beach's oceanfront. All of them were Four Star hotels, except for the "Plaza" where Dave was staying. There was a Holiday Inn, Travel lodge, Best Western and three independents.

They completed their tour of the properties and got back to Ken's office around 4:30, just in time to make Dave's 5 o'clock spa appointment. "Did you remember to bring your golf clubs, Dave?"

"I did, what do you have in mind?"

"We have a 9 AM tee time at the LPGA Headquarters, 10 miles north of Daytona Beach. Let's meet there about 8:00 and have some breakfast. I'd pick you up but it will be easier for you to head back to Tampa when we finish rather than come back here."

"Sounds good; see you tomorrow."

Bradford arrived at the golf course at 7:45 AM. Ken was already there hitting balls on the practice range. Dave watched his easy, almost lazy swing, and knew Ken was a golfer. Everything was effortless, but the ball seemed to fly off his club. Dave grabbed a few balls and tried to copy Ken's easy tempo. It wasn't as easy as Ken made it look.

"Let's grab a quick breakfast before we wear ourselves out," Ken suggested. Three LPGA pros were also having breakfast. "This is where the ladies come to practice, rehabilitate injuries or to work with their private coaches," Ken explained.

They played the Dunes, one of the two professional layouts at the LPGA site. Fairways were in beautiful shape although the greens were still rough because they had been "punched" the previous week. Ken shot 75 from the tips while Dave shot 93 from the blue tees. Dave actually hit the ball pretty well, but couldn't make any putts. The greens were tip dwarf grass and difficult to read.

"Dave, you will never be a good putter if you can't read grain in Florida, The cardinal rule is that the grass will follow the sun. A putt that breaks to the east in the morning will tend to break the opposite way in the afternoon."

"I wish that was my only problem, Ken. As you can see, I also have problems getting off the tee and with my irons; other than that, I'm ready to turn pro."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Dave; your swing isn't too bad. I bet with a couple of lessons you could be breaking 80 in no time. Let's get a quick bite to eat before you head home and I'll suggest a couple things you might work on."

Bradford was an eager listener and Ken kept his suggestions simple. Most golfers are confused after a golf lesson, but Dave began his trip back to Tampa with a new confidence in his golf game. It was the turning point in Dave's transition from an 18 handicap golfer to a single digit handicap.

The three hour ride back to Tampa became a four hour ride when Dave ran into the early rush hour traffic on I-4 in Orlando. It gave him time to reflect on what he learned in the last two days. Refinancing Joe's hotels and getting the extra $5M cash wouldn't be easy, but doable. There were a couple lenders he knew that might get this done. On a more personal note, Dave sensed there might be little friction beneath the surface between Joe and Ken. They were both strong personalities. What was he doing in a small town like Daytona Beach?

Buzz was still complaining as he climbed into the perfectly manicured sand trap. The lie was good and he had an excellent chance to get up and down for a par three. He opened the face of the sand wedge and swung easily, striking the sand a couple inches behind the ball. Buzz held his breath as the ball exploded out of the sand. He raised his arms to celebrate as the ball landed three feet short and dribbled down to the hole. It hung precariously on the lip and no amount of cursing would make it fall. Buzz settled for his par three.

Bradford's putt was makeable; 18 feet with a slight left to right break. It looked perfect until the last moment when it turned right towards the water. Dave tapped in for par on a hole that a moment before seemed like he would win. That's golf.

Bradford stayed behind to study the green and determine why it had turned. It wasn't the slope of the green; it was the grain. He could see the grass shine from above the hole, meaning the grain will take it that way when a putt loses speed. He vowed to be more thorough when reading putts. _Sorry Ken._

Sam headed for the same public telephone he had used six months ago. This time he had better news. He dialed the phone number and left a simple message; "Everything is well on the home front."

The drug shipments had resumed.

Chapter 13

Par 4 – 375 yard

Ken's Story

The next week flew by quickly. Mary helped screen job applicants and set up interviews for the following week. Business was booming and Bradford needed good people quickly.

Dave was busy with three mortgage deals that required his direct attention plus Joe's Daytona Beach hotel refinance. Mario's offer was weighing heavily on his mind. It sounded like the opportunity of a lifetime, but he couldn't do it alone. He needed to hire good people. Eric Jenkins was already carrying a full workload and required only minimal supervision. He needed help.

Sally was swamped on the leasing side of the business. Fortunately, Joan was working out well. She was inexperienced, but eager. Grace was doing most of the paperwork and billing.

Dave and Ken worked closely throughout the week, refining the presentation to the lender. His assistance was essential to understanding the financial statements. The "value" of the hotels is determined primarily from historical earnings and "value" determined the amount of money you could borrow.

Ken pointed out that Joe didn't really need an 80% loan. "Dave, if we convince the lenders that the hotels have enough value, then a 75% loan will get Joe the $5M he wants. It's our job to portray the historical numbers in the most favorable light."

Dave learned that there were several generally accepted accounting practices that are subject to interpretation. By minimizing reserves and other accrued expenses, and reclassifying certain attorney fees and insurance payments as one-time expenses, the historical results improved and projected profits looked even better.

By Wednesday, they had a lender interested and over-nighted him a complete package, including tax returns and personal financial statements on Joe and his partner.

Dave's respect for Ken grew as the week progressed. There is no question that Ken was a big fish in a small pond. Although he had a great title, Chief Financial Officer, the company was small and controlled by Joe and his partner. Ken was betting that the company would grow rapidly and his talents could be more effectively utilized. This might happen, but probably not in the next few years.

An idea started to form in Dave's mind.

The thirteenth, a short, 350 yard Par 4, was designed for gamblers. The safe play is to lay up in front of a large cross bunker about 230 yards out, leaving you a short iron into a sloping green. Dave's 3-wood almost carried too far, stopping less than five yards from the bunker. He was in good position.

Buzz was on his fourth or fifth beer and probably didn't even see the bunker or the water on the right. He pulled driver and let it rip ala John Daly.

Ken called Thursday while Dave was out of the office and Mary took the call. She stopped him when he got back. "Did you know that Ken spent two years in Paris at culinary school?"

"Is that cooking?"

"Don't be cute, you know it is. We spent 45 minutes talking about recipes. He can tell you things about sauces, herbs and spices from memory that I would need a cookbook to remember. He sounds so interesting. I'd like to meet him."

"Maybe you will, Mary. I was thinking of inviting him up next Friday to play golf in the Friday game at the club. We could invite him Thursday and he could help you cook dinner."

"Let's do it, it sounds like fun. Ask him to tell me what I will need to buy, so I can be ready."

Ken was delighted and offered to come up a couple hours early go shopping with us to buy the food. "Part of the fun of cooking, Dave, is choosing the vegetables, cuts of meat and so on." Dave took his word for it.

Ken was waiting on our doorstep when Mary and I got home Thursday. We had a beer, while he and Mary developed a shopping list.

"Is there a food market or specialty store nearby where we can get fresh food and good cuts of meat? Some of the stuff we need is not available in your typical grocery store." Mary knew just the place.

"Okay, let's go," Mary declared. "Are you coming, Dave?" It was obvious that I was superfluous, but I decided to go along anyway. Maybe I could learn something.

As we sauntered up and down the aisles of the upscale Fresh Market, it was obvious that Ken knew what he was talking about. Dave had no clue, but Mary was having fun with it. Selecting asparagus spears was an art; apparently the thin stalks are tender and less grainy than the fat ones. It reminded Dave about the time his mother sent him to the store for lettuce and he came back with cabbage. How's a boy to know?

When the trio got to the butcher section, Dave figured he would be more help. Wrong! You just didn't buy lamb chops, you had to select lamb chops from a specific portion of the animal that only Ken and the butcher seemed aware of. Dave was finally able to make a contribution. The final bill including the wine was in excess of $100 and was charged to his credit card. Yea, Dave!

Ken took charge of making the dinner while Mary watched and assisted. Dave switched from beer to wine and stayed out of the way. He was secretly pleased that Ken and Mary got along so well. It made his decision easier.

The dinner was superb. It was a gourmet presentation and both Mary and Dave were impressed. The kids, who were usually picky eaters, thoroughly enjoyed the dinner and Ken's stories about his time in France as a chef.

"Did you know I lived on a boat for two years, Peter?"

"No way! Tell us the story, Ken. Please."

"Okay, but this is a true story, and sometimes true stories don't have happy endings. Five years ago I bought a 40-foot sailboat with a kitchen and two bedrooms below the deck. My girlfriend and I decided to take six months off our jobs and go sailing in the Caribbean Islands."

"Did you see any pirates?"

"No, Peter, but we drank a lot of their rum." Sometimes Ken's humor is lost on a 10-year old."

"What happened then?" Dave asked. He, too, was enjoying the story.

After a few months we ended up in St Lucia and found a small fishing village that allowed us to dock our boat for as long as we wanted. For the next 18-months we basically lived on the boat. We fished, snorkeled, lay on the beach, drank rum and enjoyed the sunsets. It was the best two years of my life. Dave, you and Mary need to try it someday."

"That's the second time someone has suggested that I chuck everything and go live on a boat. Mario said the same thing. Mary, are you ready to go?"

"Maybe when the kids are gone; not yet. Didn't it get boring, Ken? What did you do for money?"

"I never got bored; not one day. I had a computer in the second bedroom and managed my stocks and investments just like I was in the States. Millie and I worked when we wanted to. She opened a small shop catering to cruise ships featuring authentic native jewelry, shipped directly from Korea. We actually made a few thousand dollars a month during the tourist season."

"What happened? What brought you back?" Lisa asked.

"I would like to say it was the pirates, but the truth is that it wasn't that exciting, although we were lucky to have survived."

"Do you kids know what a tropical hurricane can do to a small boat? In one night, we lost everything."

"Insurance?" Dave asked.

"Nope."

It was 10:00 before we knew it. "All right, kids, bedtime. You have school and daddy and Ken have a golf game early tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Ken," the kids said in unison as they kissed their parents and scurried off to bed. Mary was convinced that Peter would dream of pirates.

The men had an 8:30 AM tee time so we said goodnight and set the alarms for 7:30. Buzz and Bill were the other two players in our foursome. As Mary and Dave got ready for bed, Mary had the final word. "If you don't hire him, Dave, I will. Isn't he an interesting person?"

Buzz and Ken were both 3-4 handicaps, while Dave and Bill both carried a 12 handicap. The men agreed to a small Nassau wager; Dave and Ken against Buzz and Bill; $10 per person, per side, with another $l0.00 overall. They also threw $20 into the "big game" where captains picked 4-man teams based upon handicaps.

Dave and Ken lost the front nine by two strokes, but won the back nine by four, and came out $10 ahead. Since the winners were responsible for buying drinks, it didn't really make a whole lot of difference. The foursome played the back tees and Ken shot a 72 and Buzz 74. Bill and Dave shot 83 and 80 respectively. Dave felt pretty good about his game. Ken's suggestions and mini-lessons were beginning to help.

The foursome had lunch and waited for the rest of the "Big Game" players to finish. Bill's team won the front side and tied for overall. He won $74.00. Buzz and Dave each won $25.00 when their birdies held up for a skin. Ken was the B player on his team and his 72 put his team in good position until the captain turned in an 81, and his C & D players didn't break 90. His bad luck.

Dave gave Ken some good news. "I do have something that should cheer you up. I didn't get a chance to tell you yesterday, but it looks like Joe's loan is approved. Joe will walk away with close to $6M.

"That's fabulous, Dave. Have you told, Joe?"

"Nope, I thought you would want to. All I want in return is for you to pop for the next round of drinks," which he did.

Buzz had driven this bunker many times, catching the down slope and reaching the green. Dave had heard him tell the story several times about tapping in from 2 feet for eagle. He forgets the times his drive plugged in the bunker or the hazard on the right. Dave put his odds at 50-50 to pull this off.

Today, Buzz' drive easily cleared the bunker and stopped 20 yards short of the green. Some people can drink and still play golf. Dave couldn't, but the beers didn't seem to be bothering Buzz.

After Dave hit a 7-iron to 30 feet, Buzz sculled his chip and it rolled all the way to the back of the green. Maybe the beers were affecting him.

Both players 2-putted to halve the hole. Dave was still 1-down and happy to have dodged a bullet. Buzz should have birdied.

Dave and Ken wanted to stay at the club and celebrate, but Ken had to get back to Daytona Beach. The friends headed home about 2:00, grabbed a couple soft drinks and sat out by the pool.

"Ken, let's get serious for a minute. I have a job opportunity that is right up your alley. I have hesitated to talk with you about it because Joe is a client. So I guess it's a two-part question. If you are interested in the opportunity, how do you think Joe would feel about you leaving the firm and coming to work with me?"

"Let's hear it, Dave. Joe won't care. He doesn't realize what I do for him now, and probably thinks he'd be better off without me. He won't be a problem. What do you have in mind?"

Dave outlined Mario's proposal and the projects. Ken had a few questions, which Dave tried to answer. "Yes, we will have legally binding contracts with Mario; no, I really don't know enough about Mario; yes, we are out of luck if we can't come up with a lender although there is plenty of other work for you even if this deal should fall through."

Ken was interested, and ready to say yes before we even talked salary. "I'm prepared to pay $5,000 per month, plus a share of profits from the jobs you work on. Given the size of Mario's deals, I would expect you should make a lot of money if this works."

"Let's do it, Dave. I'll talk with Joe on Monday, or possibly tomorrow if he is in the office. I'll let you know his reaction. I don't imagine he will require more than two weeks notice, possibly only a week. We can let him decide what is fair."

It was 3 o'clock and Ken was eager to get going and beat the Orlando rush hour. He wasn't going to make it.

It had been a pretty good week. All that was left was to call Mario and tell him the good news. "Mario, Dave Bradford. How are you? I have some good news. I would like to take you up on your offer, with one small change. Everything we discussed looks pretty good, except we need to make the $10,000 per month salary, not draw. I've just hired a strong person to work full time on your project. We can start in two weeks."

"Agreed, Dave. Draw up the agreement and we'll get together as soon as your people are on board. In the meantime, I'll ask Pedro to email you more information on the Mexico resort and casino. Have a great weekend."

"You too, Mario."

Dave smiled as he hung up the phone, but should have remembered the saying that things that seem too good to be true usually are.

"The FBI report just came back. It looks like this Bradford is pretty clean except for a possible gambling problem. He left Arthur Andersen seven years ago and started his own equipment leasing brokerage company. Recently he got into commercial mortgages and helped Fred Shelton get financing for a couple restaurants. That's probably how he met Mario. Our man says that Mario wants Bradford to get him a lot of financing for some resorts and casinos. Our source says they are talking billions of dollars."

"This sounds interesting. Keep a close tab on this guy. Bradford might be the weak link in Mario's organization."

"Understood, but I'm still not sure how much this guy knows. He might just be naïve."

Chapter 14

Par 4 – 465 Yards

Chris

Monday, eight candidates were scheduled for interviews. By 3 o'clock, faces and information were running together. Mary stuck her head in Dave's office a few minutes later; "Dave, last one. I know you'll like her," she said with a grin.

Chris Lewis was a stunning young woman; beautiful, but with a poised, professional demeanor. The resume said 29 years old, Harvard MBA with her undergraduate degree in Finance from the University of Wisconsin. Go Badgers.

"I see on your resume you were a Finance major at Wisconsin and graduated Summa Cum Laude. Are you aware that Mary and I went to UW?" _He didn't say when._

"Yes, noticed that when I did research on your firm. Am I hired?"

_Not just yet, but It's a possibility, he thought._ "Chris, tell me a little about yourself. I've seen your resume, but would like to hear it from you." He sat back and watched her as she spoke.

"Well, Mr. Bradford, I pledged Delta Gamma as a sophomore, but went inactive my last year. I was busy with other things and frankly the sorority life got a little old, or maybe I did. I wrote for the school newspaper and was a Teaching Assistant my senior year. Believe me, I kept busy."

"There aren't too many undergraduate TAs. That's impressive. Any sports?"

"I'm a pretty good swimmer and I like to snow ski, but I didn't have much time for sports in college. I went to all the football games and a few basketball games. I also took up martial arts at Harvard."

"I see you worked a couple years for a financial firm after you graduated from Wisconsin. Tell me a little bit about your job."

As she talked, Dave was thinking that Chris was something special. She was sharp, businesslike and professional. She spoke with a quiet confidence and assurance. What was she doing here?

Dave realized he was just stalling. He might as well get to the heart of it. "Chris, why Tampa, and why are you interviewing with a small company such as ours? You know we can't pay you what a major bank or consulting firm would, and I know that Harvard MBAs can make more money in San Francisco or New York."

Chris smiled, like she knew that this was the question she was waiting for. "Several reasons, Mr. Bradford. First, my parents moved to St. Petersburg and I would like to be close to them. I'm the only family they have. Second, I like what you are doing with this company. You have grown this firm from basically nothing to a firm likely to do $10 Million in revenues this year. That's impressive. I also see you are doing projects in the Caribbean. I speak fluent Spanish. Eventually, I plan to start my own international financing firm concentrating on the Caribbean and South America. That was my major at Harvard. In the interim, say five years, I could help you grow your firm."

She was too good to pass up. he made a snap decision to offer her a job.

"I'm impressed, Chris. You have done your research. Not many people your age have a vision of their future like you do. I didn't."

The interview switched focus. Dave was now selling her. "It so happens that I have a major project that might be right up your alley."

Chris listened as he described the Mexico Casino project and the role that he thought that she could play. He told her about Ken. "Initially, you'll work with Ken and me to identify a source of funding for these projects. You could anticipate 25% travel. Interested?"

"I sure am, Mr. Bradford. I assume I will report directly to you."

"Yes. Ken will take the lead initially, but if we are successful, there will be more than enough responsibility for everyone.

"I'm prepared to offer you the same deal as Ken's; $5,000 per month base salary, plus a bonus. I guarantee that if the firm makes money, you will too."

"The job sounds fabulous and the money is more than fair. I accept. You will not be disappointed. May I start Monday?"

After she left, Mary came into the office smiling. "Well, did you offer her a full partnership?" Dave laughed, because he knew what Mary was thinking.

"Mary, that's one, impressive young lady. She has her head on straight and knows what she wants. You can laugh, but I'm not kidding."

"You didn't answer my question."

Dave laughed. "She starts Monday and is moving into my office." He ducked just in time.

Dave made two more job offers from the ten people he interviewed. Roger Felton was a 45-year-old mortgage broker with 20 years in the business. He could help train the other new hire, Pete Romine, who was inexperienced, but eager to learn. It was a good day for the firm. The future looked bright.

Bradford was 1down, but playing good golf. He figured he was four over par, including the double bogey on the Par 3 fourth. That's about what he shot. Ken always stressed to play within yourself and not change your game because of someone else. That was particularly relevant on the fourteenth hole, a Par 4, 465-yard monster that is the number one handicap hole.

Dave would need two big shots to reach the green. The tendency is to over swing, which as all golfers know, is counterproductive. We all know it, but sometimes we can't stop ourselves.

Dave swung easily and hit a good drive down the right side of the fairway and had an outside chance to reach the green. Buzz' drive was down the middle, about 30-40 yards longer. He couldn't help but rub it in; "Was that a 5-wood you hit?"

Ken would have told Bradford to ignore him, but he couldn't resist; "I wanted to lay back a little and give you a chance." Dave almost added, like I did on the last hole when you blew your chip.

"Dave, Joe Fredericks is on line one," Grace said over the intercom. "Hi, Joe, I assume you have spoken with Ken about the job offer. What's your reaction?"

"Dave, I'm coming over to Tampa and stomp on you. What right do you have to be raiding my staff?" Dave grimaced and feared the worst until Joe started laughing and let him know he was only kidding.

"For a minute there I was ready to run out and hire a body guard. You must have 100 pounds on me. I don't think I'd want to fight you. But seriously, is it okay with you? If it isn't, Ken and I agreed that there is no deal."

"Dave, it's fine. I think this is probably best for everybody. Hopefully you can keep him motivated. He's awfully smart, but can get bored pretty easily."

"I'll keep that in mind. Did you decide when?"

"I'd like Ken to stick around for a couple of weeks just to make sure that we have an orderly transfer. I also want him to interface with that new lender you found. By the way, have I thanked you yet?"

"You just did, Joe. Keep me updated. Let me know if there are any problems with them.

"I will, Dave, and thanks again for your help. I hope we can work together on future projects."

Bradford contacted his attorney, Mike Addison, and asked him to set up a corporation to handle Mario's projects and to create a contract that spelled out the financial relationship between the two companies. "Dave, it's vital that your company be viewed as an independent contractor," Addison advised. "You don't want to be assuming any liability incurred by Mario's business ventures."

The following Monday Bradford got to the office early, hoping to get through his email and unreturned phone messages before anyone arrived. He almost made it. "Are you ready for me, Mr. Bradford, or should I wait a little bit? No one was out front so I just walked on back,"

Dave looked up and saw Chris, dressed conservatively in a tan slacks and a blue blouse. She couldn't hide her good looks. "Come on in, Chris, and please call me Dave. We're not very formal in here and everyone is on a first name basis. May I get you anything? Coffee, coke?"

She took a diet coke from Dave's mini-frig and sat down with notepad in hand.

"Mary and Judy can show you around later and get your W-4 information and stuff. I also want Sally to give you an overview of the leasing side of the business. Who knows when you might need the information? Let's get started on Mexico. I need you to find us a lender by lunchtime," Dave said with a straight face.

Chris looked at me and hesitated only slightly. "Do we need the entire $4.2 billion right away or should we spread it out over a couple days?" She wasn't falling for Dave's jokes.

They spent two hours going over Mario's' projects and the information Mario had provided. "Any questions?"

"Not yet. I think I understand what Mario is looking for.""

""Okay, let's get started finding a lender. Chris, we are obviously looking for lenders with deep pockets, but let's concentrate on getting funding for the Mexico casino project, and the three other Phase I Projects. $350 million is a little easier to swallow than $4.2 billion."

"Agreed."

"Eric will go over the funding sources that we had been utilizing for our commercial mortgage deals. They are in the ACT Database., but I'm not sure how much this will help you. Most of them won't do business outside the U.S."

"No problem. I have some sources of my own that I can try." _Dave had heard stories about the Harvard network._ "Give me a couple of days and I'll see what I can find out. I hope to provide you something that we can discuss Thursday. Is that soon enough?"

It was obvious by Thursday morning that Chris was even sharper than Bradford had hoped. She had a list of 45 lenders categorized into four groups, with a capsule summary of each lender. "Dave, I don't have a lender, but I'm getting closer. Twelve of the 45 lenders are worth pursuing."

"Okay, what's your next step? Where would you like to go from here?"

"This is a 2-page summary of our requirements. I would like to email it to the 12 lenders and follow-up with phone calls. If they are interested, we can get them a full package. There is only so much information you can learn from the internet."

"Nice job," Dave said as he scanned the summary. "Give me a couple hours to look at this. In the meantime, email Ken a copy and get his input. I know he is eager to get involved."

"No problem. Ken has already called me four times this week offering his assistance."

Friday, Mike Addison completed the corporate filings and Dave Bradford became president of Global Management, LLC, a Limited Liability Corporation. From an outsider's viewpoint, Bradford owned 100% of the shares and was in total control. Mario remained in the background, as he desired. There was a separate agreement that reflected the actual situation.

Bradford scheduled a formal signing ceremony for Sunday when Mario was scheduled to be in Tampa. Mary decided to host a small get-acquainted barbeque Sunday afternoon. This would allow Mario to meet Ken and Chris.

Dave's ball was at the front end of a partially filled divot. In Florida, you don't put the sod back over a divot, you fill it with sand. This does two things; the grass grows back much faster and balls are less likely to stop in the divot. Good players don't have much problem with divots because they hit down on the ball. Players at Dave's skill level that tend to "pick" the ball off the fairway have a problem.

Bradford tried to hit the ball first, but caught it fat and his five-wood came up at least 75 yards short of the green. On grass, the club would have bounced into the ball, adding another 30 or 40 yards. The margin for error is less when hitting out of a divot or fairway bunker.

Buzz drilled a 4-iron 190 yards to the center of the green, 10 feet from the pin. Dave's wedge was 15 feet right of the pin and he proceeded to 2-putt for bogey. Buzz' birdie putt was dead center.

Bradford was two down again, with 22 holes to play.

Romano and Mario were having dinner in a small Italian restaurant in Miami Shores. "So tell me, Mario, how is your plan proceeding? Do you think this Bradford guy can deliver?"

"I have a good feeling about this guy. He already has hired two people to work full time on the project. We are on our way. Sunday we are getting together to sign the contract and meet his new people."

"Excellent!" They both smiled and raised their wine glasses to toast their future success.

Mario and Gigi arrived early, giving them time to get the contracts signed and to have a private toast to their mutual success. Ken and Chris also came early and had an opportunity to meet Mario before the others came. It turned out to be a good thing because Bill Martin and Ginny showed up with their friend; Joe Martinez, Florida's newly elected District Attorney. Fred and Ginny Shelton arrived a few minutes later followed by Buzz and his friend Jill.

Martinez was a high-energy politician that tended to dominate a party. He entertained his audience with wild stories of his early days as an assistant D.A. Bill told tales of their years together in college. "Joe, if some of the stuff we did as kids ever came out you wouldn't be elected dogcatcher."

"Bill, I have connections and would probably get off scot-free. Now you on the other hand might end up sharing a cell with a couple weightlifters. Remember that time you swiped that bag of apples off the fruit stand and the guy chased you for six blocks. He must have been over 50 and out of shape but he almost caught you."

"I remember," Bill laughed. "We weren't more than 10 or 11 years old. I grabbed the apples and took off. He might have caught me if he hadn't been yelling at me the whole way. If I remember right, you and Joey moved his fruit stand around the street corner while he was chasing me."

"Yes we did. You should have seen the guy's face when he came back and his cart was gone. He just stood there and stared at the spot where it had been, and then looked up at the street sign to see if he was lost. Those are great memories, aren't they?"

Ken was in charge of the barbeque and it had appeared to be a good decision. He had that chef's touch, which added a little pizzazz. Mary sidled over to Dave and whispered. "Everyone seems to be having a good time. I think our little get together is a success." Dave nodded in agreement.

"Chris, have another bratwurst," Ken offered.

"No way, I couldn't possibly eat another thing. I didn't know hamburgers and Wisconsin bratwurst could taste that good, I will need to diet for two weeks, but it was worth it."

"You spoke to soon, Chris. Turn around."

Mary walked out with a large ice cream cake with a single burning candle. "Gentlemen and ladies, this cake has several purposes. First of all I would like to welcome Ken and Chris into our small family. Welcome."

"Here-here; we'll drink to that," and they did.

"Second, I want to celebrate our new partnership with Mario and wish to propose a toast to the success of the Mexico casino and all the other projects. Salute!"

"Everyone raised a glass and drank while Ken cut a small piece of cake for everyone.

After the other guests left, Chris and Ken helped clean up.

"Mary, that cake was a great idea. It was a perfect exclamation point to a great afternoon," Dave said as he kissed her cheek.

"Well, Chris, did you enjoy yourself?"

"I sure did, Dave. I appreciated the opportunity to meet your friends. Everyone was friendly and I found Bill and Joe to be an interesting team. They obviously go back a long way. I'd like to get involved in politics some day."

"What did you think of Mario? Is he what you expected?"

"I don't want this to come out wrong, but there is something about Mario that I can't put my finger on. He is courteous, and obviously intelligent, but there is something about him. I don't know, I think he scares me a little. Do you know what I'm trying to say?"

Ken jumped in. "Chris I feel the same way. I got the feeling that when he talks to you his mind is somewhere else and he is looking right through you."

"Well that makes it unanimous. I felt this way the first time I met him. I'm not sure it's bad, but it certainly is something we should be aware of. Let's keep our eyes open on this one."

Later, after Chris had left and Mary was inside, Dave asked Ken what he thought of Chris.

"She is as sharp as you led me to believe. She will be fantastic. I just hope I can keep up with her."

"I think so too, Ken, but I don't think you will have a problem keeping up. As good looking as she is, I'm more worried about needing a chaperone."

"Don't worry about that, Dave. I'm almost old enough to be her father."

Ten years age difference isn't that big a deal, Dave thought.

Chapter 15

Par 4 – 390 Yards

Swiss Lender

Ken's first day at work started promptly at 1 pm. Ken spent the morning looking at condominiums and chose was a perfect location on the Clearwater side of the Howard Frankland Bridge. Feather Sound was 10 minutes from Tampa International Airport and 15 minutes from the office.

Ken's late start provided Dave the opportunity to spend time with Roger Felton and Pete Romine. By midmorning, he was confident that both men were strong additions to his staff. Roger's experience would allow Dave to turn over day-to-day responsibility for the mortgage side of the business and allow him to concentrate on Mario's projects. Mary and Grace got the men set up in their office space and Chris gave them an overview of the computer software - from student to teacher in two weeks.

Ken came in raring to go. "Let's get started," he proclaimed, plunking his long frame into one of Dave's office chairs.

"Chris, come on in and bring your lender file. His highness has arrived," Dave called out to Chris. "Ken, It's good to have you on Board," Dave said to Ken as they waited for Chris.

"Good to be here," Ken replied easily as he rose to greet Chris.

"Okay," Dave asked, "where are we in our search for lenders? I know that the two of you were talking quite a bit the last two weeks. Any progress?"

Ken took the lead. "Chris and I went over her list and made some additions and subtractions. I've had experience with some of them, both good and bad. We'll be spending a lot of time on the phone the next few days."

"There is one other thing that came up yesterday at the barbeque," Chris added. "I was talking with Fred about his restaurants when he mentioned a Swiss lender that had contacted him about eight or nine months ago regarding funding of his restaurant expansion. They claim to have unlimited funds. Dave, does that ring a bell?"

"No, it doesn't. I funded two of his restaurants and am working on a third, but Fred never mentioned a Swiss lender to me. Go ahead and follow up, it can't hurt."

Three days later Ken and Chris developed a short list of potential lenders. "Dave, we have four that appear to be real possibilities including the Swiss lender that Fred mentioned. What's nice is they are not asking for any front-end fees. The others want anywhere from $10,000 to $25,000 just to look at the application."

"Why the up-front fees, Ken? I would think they would be eager to look at a deal this big."

"In their defense, lenders have a lot of options to invest their money. They don't want to waste their time with dreamers or people that are shopping their project to multiple lenders. It's their way to separate the corn from the chaff."

Chris interjected. "The problem is that there are a bunch of fee hunters out there that make a living by taking application fees but don't deliver. The trick is to separate the lenders from the pretenders."

"Enough," Dave interrupted with a smile. Assuming we want to go forward with the Swiss group, what's the next step?"

"They want to meet with in Zurich, which by the way is a great place to visit this time of year. I was there six years ago on business and stayed an extra week touring the country. I think we should go."

"What do you think Chris?"

"I agree with Ken. I like a couple of the other lenders on our list, but I'm not sure they are as committed as the Swiss group. We need to meet with these people face to face."

"Have they proposed terms?"

"They are talking a 5%-7% construction loan that converts to a fixed mortgage when certain goals are met. The downside is they want 25% equity and first option on all future loans. After five years, we could buy them out."

"That doesn't sound unreasonable. Okay, I guess we're agreed. Let's go to Zurich."

Buzz played the 15th hole poorly. It was a simple hole if you kept your drive in the fairway. Buzz didn't and Dave did. Dave's second shot wasn't great, but left him 10 feet from the green with a fairly easy pitch to a middle pin. Buzz' drive missed the fairway by 30 yards and found heavy rough. His only choice was to use a wedge and get the ball back to the fairway. He actually hit a pretty good shot and advanced the ball to the 100-yard marker, but his third shot found a pot bunker to the right of the green.

As he walked to the green, Dave thought back to his first trip to Zurich with Ken and Chris.

Dave, Ken and Chris caught a late afternoon flight to New York and a connecting red-eye flight to Zurich. Chris caught Dave's shoulder as they cleared customs and exited into the main terminal with their luggage.

"Look, Dave. See that man with the sign?" A uniformed man was holding a sign that read, "Bradford Party." We were impressed.

Their limo driver's name was Max. "My orders are to drive you to the St. Gotthard Hotel and be available in case you need me the rest of the day. The hotel is on the Bahnhofstrasse, the city's main street. You are only a short walk to our corporate offices."

"Max, we appreciate the offer, but we won't need you today after you drop us off at the hotel. We will probably stay real close to the hotel this evening."

"Isn't the St. Gotthard close to the Kronenhalle?" Ken inquired.

"Yes, it's only a five minute walk and one of our finest restaurants. If you wish, I will make 8:00 PM dinner reservations."

"That will be fine," Ken replied. "Can you also make us reservations at the Kronenhalle Bar next door, just in case we care to stop after dinner?" Ken had been there before and knew reservations were a must.

It was noon Zurich time, but only 6 AM in Tampa. No one had slept well on the plane and they all could use a few hours rest. Dave tried, but was too keyed-up and decided to take a walk. He ran into Chris in the hotel lobby. She had the same idea.

Zurich is known as a business center and is not the typical destination of tourists looking for Alpine skiing. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful and interesting city. The Bahnhofstrasse reminded Dave of Worth Avenue in West Palm Beach. The shops were prestigious and expensive; Gucci, Cartier, Bally and numerous small boutiques intermingled with austere bank buildings, outdoor cafes, fine restaurants and jewelry stores. Dave and Chris played "tourist" and walked into a few shops pretending they could afford to pay $1,200 for a sport coat they found on a bargain rack. They soon found ourselves down by Lake Zurich, which offered a splendid vista with the mountains in the background. Dave looked forward to spending more time in Switzerland.

"Chris, it's 3:30. I'm going back to the hotel and try to get a couple hours sleep before dinner. Let's meet in the lobby at 7:45 PM."

"See you later. I'm too excited to sleep so I think I'll just wander around a bit."

Ken was the last to arrive and led the way to the restaurant.

The Kronenhalle was a trendy restaurant that offered traditional Swiss food. The consensus of locals was that it was a great place to be seen, but the food was average. What was impressive was the artwork that lined the walls of the dining room. Dining beneath an original Picasso and Chagall was a new experience. After dessert and coffee, we decided to cancel our reservations for the lounge. Tomorrow's meeting was too important.

Their offices were on the top floor of a 4-story building. From the outside, the building was stark as was the case of most of the Swiss banks that line the Bahnhofstrasse. Inside, the offices portrayed an aura of taste and old money. The elevator opened to a large lobby decorated tastefully with French antique furniture and original oil paintings. "Very impressive," whispered Chris.

Dagfin Jensen, the lender contact that Ken and Chris were dealing with, greeted them warmly, and led them into the conference room. "Sven, may I introduce Mr. Dave Bradford, Mr. Ken Reid and Ms. Chris Lewis from Global Management in Tampa, Florida."

Sven Johansen was seated at the head of a mammoth 19th C. French inlaid parquet top conference table surrounded by a dozen leather armchairs. Sven stood and introduced the six other Board members seated along one side of the table.

"Mr. Bradford, I hope you had a nice trip and had time to look around our beautiful city. If you don't mind, we have a busy day scheduled and would like to get started. Dagfin has kept us informed, but why don't you start from scratch and you tell us what you need?"

"Mr. Johansen, I appreciate the opportunity to meet with you and the time that all of you have taken out of your schedules. Bradford distributed a 1-page summary of their financial request:

Project Summary (Funding Required)

1.1 Cabo San Lucas, Mx Resort and Casino $350M - ($200M)

1.2 Miami Beach Marina and Condominiums $150M - ($20M)

1.3 Dominican Republic Mixed Use Facility $275M - $30M)

1.4 Las Vegas Casino & Golf Course $225M \- ($50M)

Total Phase I Funding Requirements One Billion Dollars - ($300M)

2.1 Costa Rica Resort and Ecology Center

2.2 Palm Beach Condominium Development

2.3 San Miguel Del Lago Resort & Casino

2.4 St Martin Golf Course & Condominiums

2.5 Orlando Convention Center & Hotel

2.6 Honduras Mountain Resort

Total Phase II Estimate $3.2 Billion

"We are requesting a $1 Billion loan commitment to complete four projects, $300 Million now and the remainder to be disbursed over an 18-month period as certain benchmarks are attained. The use-of-funds for the initial $300M funding is noted in parenthesis."

"Phase II projects are listed only to provide you an idea of our future funding requirements. These projects won't be started until the Cabo San Lucas casino is successfully opened.

"Any questions?"

"Please continue, Mr. Bradford. We will hold our questions until you have completed your presentation."

Bradford spent ten minutes describing his team's credentials and emphasizing the financial controls that would be employed to ensure the money is wisely spent. Ken took ten minutes to describe the Mexico project using a 1-page handout as a discussion outline. Chris did much the same with the other Phase I projects. The entire presentation took 30 minutes. No one said a word or asked a question until they finished. Nobody took notes. The team waited anxiously for Sven's reaction.

"Mr. Bradford, thank you for an excellent presentation. We don't question your credentials. What's bothering us is that you are obviously only a front man in this operation. You don't have the experience or financial strength to put these projects together. We are uncomfortable lending money without knowing who is pulling the strings."

"Let me assure you that I have unequivocal authority to commit the assets of these projects. Your attorneys will verify this."

"Forgive me, Mr. Bradford," a person to the right of Mr. Jensen interrupted. "I've been around the block a once or twice, and have seen many of these types of arrangements. I would guess you have a private agreement that provides another group controlling interest. If they're not happy with you, I'm sure they could dissolve the corporation or do something to take you out of the picture. Am I wrong?"

It was time for candor. "No, Mr. Warren, you are pretty much on target."

Sven interrupted, and tried to lighten the mood of the meeting. "Dave, we are prepared to lend you the money according to the terms that Dagfin and Ken have discussed. However, we insist upon knowing all of the players. We mean no disrespect to you, but please understand our position."

"May I suggest we adjourn for an hour and allow me to make a phone call. Let's see if we can work this out."

Dave, Ken and Chris went to the cafe next door to ensure their conversation was not monitored. "What do you think?" Dave asked.

"We should have expected this," Chris replied.

"In fact, Dave, if they hadn't demanded this, I would have been suspicious," Ken added.

"I agree. Let's see if Mario agrees," Dave said as he called his cell phone.

Surprisingly, Mario had no objection. "Just make sure that the contracts are ready for signature before you reveal my identity. Let's see if they are serious or just playing games."

We returned to the conference room with the good news. "Mr. Johansen, our partner is amenable to your request, and quite frankly appeared to expect it." Dave repeated Mario's stipulation.

"That's fine, Dave, we understand. I suggest you reconvene after lunch with Dagfin and our attorney. Dag has complete authority to negotiate on our behalf. I assume you have arranged for local legal representation?"

"Yes we have. We have an attorney on call and can be here at 2 PM if that's agreeable with Dag."

It was a long afternoon, but by 7 PM they had the framework of a deal. They agreed upon a 3-year, interest only construction loan with an interest rate of 6-1/4%. The lender received 25% equity and two seats on the Board of directors. After three years, either party could offer to buy out the other at a price based upon a financial valuation of the project. This looked like a potential problem, but they needed the financing.

The loan was for one billion dollars with an initial funding of $300M. Bradford's broker commission was 1% to be paid as the money was released.

The following day the contract was ready for signature and Bradford presented Sven with a copy of his agreement with Mario.

"Give us a couple hours to find out a little bit about your partner."

The team adjourned to the coffee shop and anxiously awaited the results of their research. They had no idea what the Swiss might find in Mario's background and all they could do was wait. Precisely two hours later Bradford received a summons to meet privately with Sven Johansen.

Ten minutes later Bradford walked out of Sven's office and gave Ken and Chris the good news. "We're approved!"

Two hours later the contracts were signed and notarized. $300 Million was wired to their account in Tampa, FL. A separate check for $3M was wired to Dave's Global Management account.

That night they celebrated until 2:00 AM at the Kronenhalle Lounge before catching a 7:00 AM flight back to La Guardia and eventually to Tampa. No one had trouble sleeping on the flight home.

Bradford was away and chipped to about 10 feet, not an easy par putt. Buzz was still in the hole. He needed to get up and down from the sand trap to put the pressure on Bradford's putt. The ball was sitting up pretty good in the sand and it looked like an easy shot. Buzz took a wide stance, opened the face of his sand wedge and took a full, easy swing. When the sand cleared, his ball was perched on the lip of the bunker. The open-face wedge had slid under the ball, barely making contact. Buzz swiped at the offending ball with his wedge knocking it into a small pond 30 yards behind the green.

In match play, sometimes your opponent gives you a gift. Bradford accepted and headed to the sixteenth hole only one-down.

The next 12 months passed quickly, if not smoothly. Ken and Chris worked full time on the Mexico project. They hired an internal accountant, Pamela Suarez, to assist in the accounting and disbursement functions. Pamela reviewed every check written over $500. Chris or Ken's signature was required on all checks over $5,000.

Chris spent 50% of their time at the project site, meeting with contractors, checking results and insuring that payments were made only for work that had been performed. Her Spanish speaking ability was invaluable in dealing with the contractors.

Kurt and Alberto worked with Ken to obtain another $200 initial funding for the other three Phase I projects. The initial funding of $100M had been used to purchase land, architectural plans, licenses and environmental reports. Zurich needed to approve the work plan and general contractors before they would release the funds. Dagfin Jensen was their point man and proving to be an excellent person to work with.

Dag was instrumental in getting Sven and his Board of Directors to approve the allocation. Three months after the trip to Zurich the $200M was wired to their account.

The Cabo job was falling behind schedule and was over budget. Pedro estimated they would need another $50M to complete the project. The primary problem was environmental. The soil was not as firm as the initial soil samples indicated, either for the Marina or the Hotel and Casino sites. The concrete footings needed to be 30 feet deeper than anticipated, at an additional material and labor cost of almost $35M.

Ken and Chris presented the revised budget to Dag for approval. After several hours of discussion, and a few changes, Dag was satisfied. "Okay, let me call Sven and see how he wants to handle this. I have a hunch he might want to meet with us. I should know in a couple hours."

Dag called Ken back an hour later. "I was right; he wants us to make a full report to the Board and asked that you and Chris attend. Is next Wednesday too soon?"

"We're ready," Ken answered immediately.

"I'm taking my skis," Chris proclaimed after Dag hung up.

"Settle down, Chris. This is a business trip, and besides, we can rent skis at the lodge." Ken's mischievous look told Chris to pack her ski jacket.

Ken, Chris and Dag left Monday morning from Tampa giving them an extra day to get over the jet lag and rehearse for the meeting. Dave stayed behind to tend the store. Ken was going to give the overview and Chris was to get into the detail. Dag would remain neutral, a Swiss policy since the battle of Marignano in 1515. "Dag, the Swiss would remain neutral if aliens invaded earth," Ken quipped.

"That's right, Ken, and when they get here, the aliens will probably deposit their money in our banks; for our regular fee of course."

The St. Gotthard Hotel was booked, so Ken and Chris made reservations at the Marriott. Dag headed home to his wife and three kids. It was 2 PM Swiss time when they checked in, but Ken's watch still said 8 AM. "Chris, I need a couple of hours of sleep. Let's meet downstairs at the sports bar around six."

"Okay, I might just go for a walk. I slept pretty well on the plane."

"I know, in fact, everyone in our cabin knew." Chris ignored him.

Chris found Ken sitting at the bar with five steins of ale in front of him. "Hey, Chris, I need your input. I'm doing a survey of Swiss beverages, I can't decide between the Steinbock Lager and the Hurlimann. The Oranjeboom Pilsner is pretty good too, but it's Dutch. Try one."

"Ugh," Chris said as she tried the Steinbock, "this is too strong. How can you drink this? I'll stick to wine."

"While I was doing my research, what did you do today?"

"Nothing that compares to this, Ken. I did spend an hour at the Chinese Gardens and a couple hours at the National Museum, but nothing as cultural as this. I feel I just wasted the afternoon."

"Do I detect a little sarcasm? And I was just about to ask you if you would care to drive to Lucerne with Dag and me tomorrow for a little golf. I thought you might want to see a little of the countryside and do a little shopping."

"Yes! That would be fantastic, just so I don't have to golf. I would love to see the countryside and I can shop while you two play golf. You are forgiven. In fact, I'll buy dinner tonight."

"Can you afford it? I was thinking hamburger but now I just might go with the cheeseburger." Ken wondered what he had done to be forgiven, but was happy nonetheless. Tomorrow would be more fun with Chris along.

Their plans changed later that evening. Chris was getting ready for bed when the telephone rang. "Chris, Dag just called. Sven wants to have dinner tomorrow, just the four of us. Unfortunately, I think we better postpone our trip to Lucerne."

"I agree, Ken. I have a hunch that the dinner with Sven will be more important than the presentation to the Board. Most decisions are made in the hallways before a meeting ever starts."

"By the way, Chris, dinner is at Petermann's Kunststuben, so don't wear jeans. Sven is sending a car for us about 7."

_Now that's the pot calling the kettle black, Chris thought_. "We'll have time tomorrow to buy you a nice tie, Ken. Your clip-on probably won't be appropriate. Goodnight. See you at breakfast."

"Goodnight, Chris."

Breakfast turned into brunch, as they both slept until almost ten. They were still catching up from the plane ride. "Ken, let's go to this little outdoor café that I saw yesterday. It's only a couple of blocks and the walk will do us good."

As they were seated and ordered coffee, Chris asked if Dag had given any clue as to the purpose of the meeting. "Nope, other than to say that Sven doesn't often get together for purely social reasons. There is usually a business purpose, so don't be surprised if he gets into the meat of it and asks the tough questions."

The afternoon was spent wandering the cobblestone streets of Old Town and visiting the cathedrals and churches. Grossmunster Cathedral with its duel towers looks like it was taken from a Brothers Grimm fairy tale. Ken sampled the beers and Chris sampled the chocolate and enjoyed a late lunch of cheese fondue and Rhine wine. Ken had racclette, melted cheese over a boiled potato, and a local beer.

"Let's head back, Ken. I need some time to get ready. You are planning on a coat and tie, aren't you?"

"It's against my principles, Chris, but I have heard that the Kunststuben is one of the best restaurants in Switzerland. And besides, I'm going with the best looking woman in Switzerland so I had better dress up."

"Why, Ken. I didn't know you cared." Maybe Ken had been thinking about her last night, too, Chris thought.

The restaurant lived up to its reputation. It was packed, but the food and service were extraordinary. Chris ordered the lobster while Ken tried their specialty, filet of trout. Sven was the perfect host, introducing us to a variety of celebrities and businessmen that stopped by our table. He finally said to Chris; "That last person was a complete stranger. I'm sure the only reason he stopped was to get a better look at you. I must say I agree with him; you look absolutely ravishing this evening."

"Sven, why thank you. That is nice of you to say." Chris cheeks had turned a little pink, which made her look even more beautiful, Ken thought.

"I happen to agree with him," Dag offered.

"Is anybody else going to have dessert?" Sven asked. I recommend everything on the menu but the chocolate mousse is especially good."

While we were waiting for dessert, Sven took the opportunity to talk a little business. "Ken, and Chris, tomorrow you will make your presentation to the Board. Dag tells me you are requesting that we release the final $150 Million required for the Mexico project, plus an additional $50 Million cost overrun. Is that correct?"

"That's correct, Sven", Ken replied.

"Your request will be approved tomorrow, but not without a price. Our equity percentage needs to be increased to 33%. Furthermore, you must understand that further cost overruns will not be tolerated, and the casino project must open on the revised schedule; no more delays. Understood?"

"I understand, Sven. I'll talk to Dave and Mario tonight. We have discussed this and I'm pretty sure he will agree."

"Tell Mario, no more money until we see some results."

The dessert was excellent and Sven once again became the gracious host. The Swiss have a wonderful ability to compartmentalize business and pleasure. On the way out, he introduced us to the owner, Horst Petermann. We complimented him on his fine restaurant and he complimented Sven for bringing this fine looking woman to his restaurant.

Chris and I relaxed in silence during the 25-minute limo ride back to the Marriott, being careful not to talk business, just in case. "You did look pretty good tonight, Chris."

"You looked okay yourself tonight, Ken. Are you sure this isn't a clip-on?" as she yanked at his tie.

As they got to Ken's room, Ken asked Chris to come in while he called Dave.

"Give me five minutes. I need to get out of this dress and these shoes. Privately," Chris added, as she noticed Ken's look.

Ten minutes later Chris was back after changing into her sweat clothes.

It was still only 6 PM EDT and they caught Dave in the office. "Dave, Ken and Chris here, let us bring you up to date." Ken repeated Sven's decision and waited for a response.

"What's our alternative?" Dave concluded after a moment's thought. "If the three of us agree it's a reasonable offer, let's conference-in Mario and see what he says."

Ken repeated the conversation to Mario. "Sven was pretty firm, Mario. It sounded like a take it or leave it offer. What do you say?"

"I don't like being blackmailed like this, but I guess it's not too bad. Tell the SOB I'll take it, but as soon as I get a chance I'm going to cut these guys out of the deal. Mark my word."

"I'll tell him, Mario, but if you don't mind, I will clean it up a little," Ken replied.

"Well, Chris, he went for it. Care to have a drink to celebrate?"

"Not tonight, Ken. We can celebrate after the meeting tomorrow morning." When Chris got back to her room she asked herself why she had said no to Ken so quickly. She had been thinking of him off and on since the trip was scheduled.

The meeting started at 9 AM and lasted over two hours. The Board members were not pleased and asked some tough questions, many relating to the capabilities of Mario and his management team. At the end of the meeting they came to the same conclusion that Sven had presented last evening; a $250M loan in exchange for 33% equity in all projects.

"I have authority to tell you that Dave's associates will agree to these terms," Ken said, as he nodded to Sven.

By 12:00 Ken and Chris had checked out of the Marriott and were on their way to Lucerne.

Over the next six months, they split their time between the Mexico project and the three projects in Miami Beach, Las Vegas and Dominican Republic. Kurt and Alberto were already doing preliminary work on the six Phase II projects.

They were cautioned not to go too fast because the money had not yet been approved. Despite Dave's warnings, it was discovered that Mario had entered into contracts with several firms and put deposits on the land.

The next day Chris and Dave flew to Miami to meet with Mario and Alberto.

"I didn't have a choice, Dave. We either paid the deposits or we lost our option on the land. They had another buyer."

"How much are we talking about, Mario.

"$40M, nonrefundable. If we don't close by October 1, we lose it all.

Where is the money coming from, Bradford wondered?

"Chris, Is Cabo going to open on time?" Dave asked for Mario's benefit.

"Yes, I expect the hotel and one golf course to have a soft opening June 1st and the casino to open 30 days later. We need to get the resort and restaurant staff trained before we get an onslaught of customers from the casino. We are having problems with the championship golf course, but that should open by August. Everything else is looking good."

"Okay, but we will be cutting it pretty close. We need casino revenues for two or three months before the Swiss will give us any more money. They made that very clear. Let's hope our revenue projections hold up."

"Mario, that $40M deposit really puts us in a time crunch. It won't be easy to get the additional funding by October 1."

"I'm counting on it, Dave."

Bradford decided to start looking for another funding source in the event that Zurich didn't exercise their option for the Phase II projects. He wasn't sure what they could do about the three Phase I projects already started which still needed another $350M to complete. Dave was sure of one thing. They needed to open the casino July 1st and casino needed to be profitable. Otherwise, relationships could turn nasty.

Chapter 16

Par 3 – 220 Yards

Mexico Casino Grand opening

The Cabo San Lucas' Grand opening was scheduled for the July 4th weekend. Many of the guests and 65% of the projected revenues would be from U.S. The hotel, restaurants and marina golf course opened a week earlier and the early feedback from players was positive. Engraved invitations were sent out the first week of June to an exclusive guest list made up of politicians, friends and whales.

July 4th and 5th were by invitation only. The third day was the official opening of the casino to the general public. Day 1 was scheduled to be a political who's who of Mexican and North American politics. The second day was designated for "high rollers."

Everything was comp'd; free rooms, food, drinks, golf, etc. Guests received a $100 casino chip with their name and date engraved. All high rollers believe they deserve a luxury suite, but space was limited. They had a good laugh when Ken suggested the high rollers double up.

Mary and Dave arrived Thursday, a day early. Ken and Chris had been there for a week cleaning up loose ends. The four friends commandeered a golf cart and took a tour of the marina, white sand beach and golf courses. Dave was amazed at the transformation that had taken place since his last visit.

"Mary, did you notice that there is no sand on the first golf course; everything is crushed, white rock. Even the cart paths are crushed stone rather than blacktop. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I knew something was different about this golf course, but I couldn't put my finger on it" Mary replied.

"It's not an easy course," Ken pointed out. "There is water or natural wetlands on every hole. They did a great job in taking advantage of the natural terrain. Wait until you see the ocean course."

"The landscaping for the entire property is awesome," Mary said. "What a wonderful resort!"

Pedro was waiting when they returned and took them on a tour of the hotel. The first floor featured a restaurant, coffee shop, disco and cigar bar. "Mary, you have to bring Dave here this weekend" Chris said as we walked past the cigar bar. "They have three jazz musicians that are fabulous," Chris gushed. "It's worth putting up with the cigar smoke."

"We'll try it" Mary replied. "I love good jazz music. I'll just send our clothes to the cleaners the next morning."

The upscale restaurant and lounge occupy the top floor. "Take a look at this view" Ken said as he led them out onto the terrace balcony.

The view from the balcony was breathtaking. "Awesome," Dave commented as he looked down on the Pacific Ocean and the white sand beaches below. The 250-slip marina to the north was packed with luxury yachts, and to the south was the ocean golf course.

"What a beautiful, romantic view," Mary whispered as she squeezed Dave's hand.

A 2nd story walkway connected the hotel and the casino. We walked directly into the gaming area. "We have 400 slot machines, 50 blackjack tables, 10 crap tables, Keno and Poker," Pedro said. The casino wouldn't open until tomorrow so the group kept on walking.

The first floor featured a buffet-style restaurant, disco lounge, bingo parlor and a large special events room that could be used to host boxing matches, conventions and the like; anything to get people into the casino.

"Dave, the third floor is where you can gamble in comfort." It was ostentatious; private lounge, piano bar, upscale bathrooms and other amenities designed to keep the wealthy happy while they lost their money. Dave was not amused.

Two theatres were on the third floor. One housed a comedy club and the other their headliner attraction, Cirque de Soleil. "They have a 3-year contract," Pedro mentioned.

As we walked back to the hotel Ken suggested a round of golf before dinner. "I'm ready," Dave responded eagerly. "Let's find Buzz and Bill."

"I guess there is nothing for us girls to do except shop," Mary said to Chris.

Win or lose, it would be an expensive round of golf.

That evening Mario hosted a small cocktail party for the people associated with the project. He had one of the ten luxury suites. At almost 2500 sq. ft., it was almost as big as Dave's house. Fred and Bill were invited plus a few of Mario's friends and business associates.

"Dave, I would like you to meet a friend of mine, Romano Montoya. Romano, Dave Bradford."

"Mario has told me a lot about you," Romano said with a smile as they shook hands.

"All good, I hope," Dave replied. It appeared to Dave that Mario treated Romano with more than a little respect. Romano was more than just a casual acquaintance.

"How do we stand on the funding?" Mario asked. "Should we expect any problems?"

"Dagfin told me less than hour ago that Sven is pleased with this project, but he still wants to see two or three months of revenue from the casino before they release any more funds. As you know, we still need $350M to complete the Phase I projects plus money to start Phase II." Dave didn't mention the $40M deposit Mario had already spent. He wasn't sure what Romano knew.

Mario wasn't happy.

"Sven and Dag will be here tonight. Maybe you can talk to Sven and see if there is any flexibility."

"Good. I'm looking forward to meeting them. Okay," Mario continued, changing moods abruptly, "let's get the ladies and begin the celebration. Many people have put a lot of hard work into this project."

"Keep your fingers crossed," Dave whispered to Ken as Mario and Romano walked away. "Mario and Sven might end up duking it out tonight."

"My money's on Mario," Ken responded without smiling. They both knew the fragile partnership they had crafted might unravel quickly.

Sven and Dag arrived an hour later with their wives. Dag's wife, Johanna, was stunning and Sven's wife, Erica, was the perfect lady. Mary and Chris took charge of making the women comfortable while Dave and Ken introduced the men to Mario.

"Mario, I would like to present your partner, Sven Johansson, and his associate, Dagfin Jensen."

"Mario, what a fabulous place you have built with our money," Sven said as they shook hands. "Pedro and Dag gave me a quick tour earlier. I am impressed."

"Thank you, as you know, we couldn't have done this without your support. Come out on the balcony and let me point out a few things that Pedro might not have mentioned." Mario and Sven spent the next hour talking like old friends. Mario proved he could be charming.

Sven caught me right before the party was breaking up. "Dave, I really am impressed with what your team has done here. Dag told me it was nice, but it helps to see it."

"Thanks, Sven, I appreciate the compliment. Did Dag mention that we are almost out of money for the other Phase I projects in the Dominican Republic, Las Vegas and Miami?"

"He did. We will wire another $150M to your account."

"That's great, Sven; thank you."

"Tell Mario this is the final contribution until we see results. No more money until we get three months data from the casino. My Board of Directors would have preferred six months actual data, but Dag convinced us there were time constraints."

"I will give your message to Mario. I'm sure he will be pleased."

Dave found Dagfin and thanked him for his support. "Dag, you are a life saver. We couldn't have waited another six months."

The Par 3 sixteenth was a 220 yard Par 3, the 3rd toughest hole on the course. A large bunker, hour-glass green protected the front of the elevated green. The green sloped down to collection areas on either side. Anything 15 feet to the right or left of the pin would result in a tricky, up-hill pitch.

Friday was for dignitaries, politicians and special guests; a relatively small group of 400 people that utilized only 20% of the casino's capacity. This was by design and allowed the staff to get experience with a live audience. Training and dress rehearsals only did so much. Only 15 blackjack and two crap tables were open.

Dave's bad luck at the tables continued Thursday. Friday he won a few hundred dollars playing craps before Mary pulled him away.

They had front row seats to Cirque de Soleil and the show was fantastic, a combination of athleticism and dancing. The performers received a standing ovation when the show ended. Later they stopped in at the cigar bar and listened to the jazz musicians. They were as good as Chris had promised.

The big rollers moved in Saturday and the amount of gambling was heavy. Wives and friends took over the $10 minimum tables. The big hitters headed for the 3rd floor private gaming rooms where the cost of blackjack started at $100. The craps tables were packed, with $25 minimum bets.

Fred lured Dave to the 3rd floor after Mary had gone to bed. $100 per chip was above Dave's threshold for pain, but he played anyway. In poker, there is a general rule; if you worried about the amount of money you are betting, you are not going to play good poker. You have to play your cards as they are dealt and not worry about the size of the pot. Bradford lost $18,000.

Sunday Bradford switched to craps, without any better luck. The only difference was he lost $25,000 in half the time. Pedro had approved a $10,000 line of credit for all of them, and also approved Dave's extra draws. Bradford did not have $40,000 to cover his draws and was forced to ask Pedro to carry him for a few days. "No problem, Dave, get us the money next week. Just sign this marker for our records."

Bradford retreated to the bar for a drink and ran into Cyndi, of all people. "What are you doing here?" he asked, although he already knew the answer? "Are you alone?"

"Well, no, I'm waiting for Kim. Mario invited us for the weekend. I would guess that Kim is with Mario now." We talked for 15 minutes and Dave admitted that his luck was no better than it was in Nassau. Cyndi was easy to talk to.

"Here's a key to Room 1052, Dave. Why don't you come up in about 15 minutes and I'll give you another backrub?"

Dave finished his drink and considered the offer. In the end, he rationalized that a backrub was better than staying down at the casino and losing more money. After losing $25,000, $500 was a cheap way to spend an hour.

He was leaving Cyndi's room when he heard a familiar female voice. Mary and Ginny were coming down the hallway toward Ginny's room, which was a few doors down. Mary stared at Dave with wide, disbelieving eyes. Her hands trembled as she fought back tears and anger.

Bradford would never forget the look on Mary's face.

" _How can I ever make this up to her?" he thought._

Bradford drew even for the match with a beautiful 5-wood to about 10 feet. Buzz hit the green and 2-putted for par, but Dave's birdie putt broke right at the last moment and found the center of the cup. Dave had not forgotten Ken's advice about reading the grain in the green. It was almost 2:00 PM and the grass was already starting to lean towards the setting sun.

The match was even with 20 holes to go.

Romano and Mario were sitting on the balcony in Mario's suite, looking out at the Pacific Ocean. The Casino Grand opening had been a success. Mario had just given Romano preliminary numbers from the first two nights. Romano was pleased. _"_ It looks like your plan just might work, Mario. I'm looking forward to getting some of the money I am sitting on into some safe investments."

For the last 18 months they were averaging two shipments per month, without any significant losses. One man tried to shortchange him on one shipment, but paid dearly for his mistake. However, investing the profits from these shipments was proving difficult since 9/11. The Privacy Act had made it risky to transfer large sums of money anywhere, much less into the United States.

"I'm pleased also, Romano, but let's not hurry on this. We still need Sven and his people to fund these projects. After that we can fund new projects out of profits."

"How do the Casino projections look for the next three months?" asked Romano. "Will they be good enough to make them happy?"

"The projections are good, and we expect the publicity from this weekend will help significantly. We will know more in a couple weeks."

"Did your girl get the pictures we needed?"

"Yes, but unfortunately they probably won't do us any good. Bradford's fiancée caught him leaving the room. I heard she couldn't be any madder at him."

"Shit; at least we have his marker. That might come in handy some time."

The DEA agent in Cabo San Lucas reported back to his boss. "We are getting close on this. Mario and Romano met with Bradford again. This must be how they are laundering their drug money. Bradford is the key to breaking this wide open. The Zurich group is still the unknown."

"I'll see what I can find out about the Swede. In the meantime, keep a close eye on Bradford."

Chapter 17

Par 4 – 375 Yards

Waiting for Casino Results

It looked like the next few months would be relatively stress free so Dave decided to enter the club's match play championship. He was shooting in the high 70s and feeling pretty good about his game. He entered the championship flight. The other two flights are handicapped, meaning that a 14 handicap would give 10-handicap, a stroke on the four toughest holes. There are no strokes given, everyone plays straight-up. Dave's handicap was down to a six, but there were several scratch golfers in his flight. The odds were against him.

The first match was a week from Saturday and Bradford was paired against a new member who was a 5-handicap at his old club. The man was nervous and played poorly. Dave was five up after his opponent hit into the water on 14, and the match was over. The two men had a couple beers in the clubhouse and promised to play together in next week's Friday game.

There was nothing that Bradford could do but wait for financial results from the casino. He spent his time working with the commercial mortgage team, which included three new faces hired in the last nine months. Roger had turned out to be a lifesaver and he soon was promoted to manager.

Bradford handled some deals himself, but generally only if they interested him or were with people he had worked with previously. Fred's restaurant business continued to grow with Dave's help. Fred and Mario doubled the number of Shells restaurants they co-owned and were considering franchising the Shells name nationwide. Fred also opened six new stores under his own name. His Oyster Bay restaurant, Dave's first commercial mortgage deal, was a huge success.

July financial results for the casino would be skewed due to the unusual revenues and expenses generated from the Grand opening. The project team hoped August and September would be good months, although September is usually a bad tourist month in Mexico. It's still hot and kids are back in school. They hoped Sven would be smart enough to understand the seasonality of the resort business.

July casino profits were posted the first week of August and were disappointing, despite the boost from the Grand opening. Revenues were good, slightly over $10M. However, net operating income was only half of what it should be. Ken and Chris started analyzing the numbers and the underlying operating statistics.

Ken and Chris asked for a meeting to discuss the Cabo numbers. Ken started it off. "Dave, I can't put my finger on it, but something isn't right. Maybe it's the impact of the Grand opening, but I don't think so. None of the ratios are making any sense. For example, occupancy was good, but their revenue per occupied room was down. Net profit is too low for the revenue they generated. Something was wrong."

"Maybe it's because of the Grand opening? Did they expense the $2M promotional expense?"

"They amortized it," said Chris, "which is the correct thing to do. If they had expensed it, they would have lost money for the month. We don't see anything in the expenses that seems unusual, but it's difficult to tell without an audit."

"Let's hold off on the audit and give them the benefit of the doubt for now. All of this is conjecture until we get more substantial information. Let's analyze the operating statistics. They might shed some light on why profits are low. The two of you should plan on spending some time down there after we see the August numbers."

"One more thing," Dave said as Ken and Chris were leaving his office. "Let's try to find a backup lender, just in case Sven doesn't exercise his option on the Phase II projects. As you know, Mario has $40M at risk. Have we kept in touch with the lenders that you and Chris identified before we opted to go with the Zurich group?"

"We have," said Chris. "In fact, two of them called me this week to say that they want participate in Phase II. We'll get back to them."

"Send them a financial package and see if they are serious. Tell Sally what you need and she will help you. You might also ask Roger if any of our traditional lending sources might be interested. He has developed a lot of good contacts."

August revenues and operating income came in above forecast. It was only when Ken and Chris analyzed the underlying statistics that warning flags went off. The ratios were different than the ratios generated for July. A month-to-month comparison of expenses indicated large swings. It didn't make sense.

Dagfin Jensen called Ken the following day. After they exchanged pleasantries, Dag got to the point. "How about a trip to Mexico next week? I'm having a little trouble making any sense of the August numbers. Are you having the same problem?"

"You read my mind, Dag. Something is screwy. Maybe Pedro and his accounting staff can make some sense of it? I want Chris to come along too, just so we don't have a language problem."

After five days, Ken came back without making much progress. Chris stayed behind to continue working on the problem.

"Dave, Dagfin is not happy. He smells a rat. Dag is talking about bringing in an audit team, but we convinced him to wait until the September results are in."

"That's not good, Ken. Without Dag's support, it will be difficult to get the rest of the money for Phase I, much less anything for Phase II."

Let's hope September is a good month.

September revenues and profits were up. More importantly, the ratios and expenses compared logically to August. It appeared that July might have been an aberration caused by the grand opening and the short month. Ken and Chris were reserving judgment until they analyzed the underlying statistics.

Two hours later Ken asked Bradford if they could meet to discuss the September results. "How's 3:00, Ken? Roger and I are in the middle of something." Bradford later regretted not taking the time to talk with them immediately. He would have been more prepared for Dag's call.

Dag called at 2:30. "Dave, I wanted you to be the first to know. We are putting an audit team together and will be in Cabo San Lucas Monday. The audit should not take more than a week. If everything turns out okay, we should still be able to meet your funding deadline."

Bradford tried to think quickly, but all he could say was; "I would like Ken and Chris to be there. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Ken and Chris came in soon after Dag's phone call and Bradford relayed the bad news. "What do you think they will find? Why is he demanding an audit?"

"Dave, we've been waiting for a chance to talk to you," Ken said. "The daily occupancy numbers tell a bad story. Remember when Dag, Chris and I went there a few weeks ago to see what we could find out?"

"Sure, you said you didn't find anything, didn't you?"

"That's right, we didn't, but we laid the groundwork. Every day we went door-to-door counting occupied rooms. We looked at their room telephone and room charges to see which rooms were occupied, and we came up with a daily occupancy number that is pretty darn accurate. The problem is that these numbers are not close to the numbers Cabo is reporting. For example, Wednesday we counted 206 occupied rooms. The report says 112. The same is true for the other days. It looks like they are underreporting revenues."

"Someone must be skimming profits," Chris concluded.

"I assume Dag has the same information at his disposal?"

"He obviously knows what we counted but I don't know if he has all the detail. However, the week we were there occupancy was approximately 78% and they reported occupancy for the month at 55%. He knows that can't be right. I am sure that's one of the reasons they requested the audit. We were also suspicious of a few vendor expenses but couldn't be sure."

"Ken, I'd like you to email Dag the daily reports you just got, with a summary of your conclusions. I don't want him to start distrusting us. Stay here while I call Mario. He won't be happy."

"Mario, Dave Bradford. I have some bad news for you."

Mario was absolutely livid. "Dave, we need $200M in two weeks or I lose the $40M deposit. We have cut this too close. What can we do? Is there any money left over from the second funding of Phase I?"

"Sure there is, Mario, but I don't think that's the solution. It would be too easy for Zurich for discover the transfer and default our contract. We are talking to other lenders. I'll get back to you."

"Okay, Dave, but I'm telling that this is important to me. I can't afford to lose that deposit if you know what I mean." Bradford heard Mario slam down the phone in obvious anger. Mario was scared.

Bradford turned to Ken and Chris. "Where do we stand on a backup lender by the way? Are we set up to get funded if we need it?"

"Yes, but not in time for Mario," Chris answered. "Both lenders are interested. However, their funding is dependent upon obtaining appraisals and environmental reports. It would take at least 45 days, probably 60 to actually get the money. By the way, they both want a $25,000 deposit to get started."

Bradford beeped Roger and asked him to join them for a minute. "Roger, do we have any sources that will lend Mario $80 Million within two weeks? Mario needs to exercise his options on several land contracts or he will default a large sum of money. I guess the collateral would be the contracts on the property he is purchasing."

"Well, Dave, until he gets title to the property it's not his, and it's worthless as collateral. I don't know anyone that will give him a revolving credit line without land or some other hard asset to back it up. His local bank is the only one who would lend him money based upon his personal guarantee."

"Is there a way we could borrow money on the assets of the other Phase I projects? For example, how about borrowing against the leases on the Dominican Republic office development?"

"That's a possibility, Dave. It's almost like doing an accounts receivable or inventory loan. The problem is the assets are in the Dominican Republic and that will scare away almost any U.S. based lender."

"Ken, do we have any assets in Miami or Las Vegas that we can borrow against?"

"None that I know of," said Ken. "The Miami project is still under development. The Vegas hotel probably will appraise for a lot higher than cost, but not until it is finished and stabilized. We are at least a year or two away from that. By the way, I agree with you that using money that has been earmarked for these projects scares me. It sounds like fraud and I for one, don't want to spend the next years looking over my shoulder when I take a shower."

"Okay, here's the plan for today. Chris, you plan on spending the week in Cabo working with the audit team. Let's get going with the other two lenders. The stakes are pretty high so I am willing to fund the $25,000 application fees. It will be nice to have a bargaining chip in our pocket when we negotiate with Zurich."

A crisis was brewing and Dave had a feeling things would get worse before they got better..

The Par 4, 375 yard 17th, was a sharp dogleg right. They halved the hole with bogeys. Dave's drive caught the last tree on the dogleg and forced him to pitch out into the fairway. He missed the green with his third shot and was lucky to save bogey by sinking a nine footer that curled in at the last moment. Buzz played the hole perfectly until he 3-putted from 20 feet, pushing his three foot par putt two inches right.

The beers had caught up to him.

Chapter 18

Par 5 – 555 Yards

Problems – Meeting in Cabo San Lucas

This crisis could not have come at a worse time from Bradford's personal standpoint. He had reached the semi finals of the Club Championship and if he won Saturday, he was in the finals. The 36-hole final started the week the casino audit would be completed and Zurich would decide to fund the remainder of the project. He told himself not to allow the golf tournament to influence business decisions, but it was difficult not to think about it. He wanted so much to win the tournament.

Dave and Ken got in a practice round Friday morning, before his semi final match. He shot 77 with two birdies. The round could have been better if he had not missed several 8-foot putts. Most golfers can say this after they complete a round. Amateurs, or pros, seldom make them all.

Saturday Dave's semi-final opponent was Tom Osteen, a 2-handicap player that usually was a captain in the Friday game. Tom had picked Bradford for his team a couple times, but the two men had never played together in the same foursome. It was a tight semi match, with neither player able to take control. Dave chipped in on 17 for birdie and was 1-up heading to the 18th, a Par 5 with water protecting the front of the green. Both players hit good drives. Dave hit first and played it safe, hitting a 5-iron in front of the water, about 120 yards from the hole. Tom was 1-down in the match and felt he needed birdie to win the hole. He decided to go for the green with a 3-wood and almost succeeded. The ball cleared the water, but caught the bank and rolled back into the hazard. Dave's pitching wedge stopped 10 feet from the hole and Tom conceded when his par-chip rolled 30' past the hole. Bradford was in the finals

Chris left for Cabo San Lucas Sunday, where she would spend the week working with the Zurich audit team. Dave and Ken were in the office Monday putting the finishing touches on an alternative financing plan just in case. They were armed with a commitment from a California pension fund. Interest rates were a couple points higher than the Zurich terms, but there was no equity participation. The team's negotiating position had improved significantly in two years with one project complete, and three others started. They were no longer considered a high-risk, startup company.

The kicker was that Zurich had an option on the six projects. Dave's attorney advised him that they would be free to go with another lender if Zurich chose to stop funding. However, Bradford guessed that Sven's attorneys were telling them that they could stop him, especially if they discovered fraud on the Cabo casino project. Dave hoped the audit would be clean and Zurich would release the remaining funds, otherwise, it would get messy.

Dave and Ken flew down to Miami Tuesday to meet with Mario and discuss their options. They had been unable to find anyone that would lend the $200M in two weeks. Hard money lenders were the only lenders that can move that fast and they want hard collateral that can easily be converted to cash if the deal goes bad. These projects did not have any. They needed Zurich or Mario would lose his $40M deposit.

"Mario, what would you be willing to give up if Sven provided you the money and the $3.2 Billion for the other six projects. Are you willing to increase their equity percentage? If not, our only option is to play hardball with Zurich and threaten to obtain the funds from the other lenders. Ken can say we have arranged for the $80 Million from a hard-money lender. It's a bluff, but it might work."

"Dave, anything's on the table," said Mario. "I can't give more than 49%. I have associates that would not allow me to lose control. You've met Romano. He appeared to be a reasonable person, didn't he? Believe me, he isn't. There will be hell to pay if he loses his $40 Million."

The cards were now on the table. Bradford knew for sure where the money had come from and Mario left no doubt as to the consequences of default.

"Mario, this will come to a head this weekend. Chris called from Cabo and said that the Zurich audit team will be finished by Friday. It's probably no surprise to you, but they have found several things that they don't like. If it's serious, their attorneys can probably hold up funding of the six Phase II projects. You need to meet with Sven. Can you make a meeting this weekend?"

"I'll be there, Dave, there's nothing more important."

Ken and Dave said their goodbyes and headed for the airport. Ken was to catch a flight to Zurich to meet with Sven. Dave was to return to Tampa to prepare for his golf match.

"Good luck, Ken, there is a lot riding on this visit."

"Good luck Saturday, Dave. Remember what I've told you. Don't get caught up playing against your opponent. Play your own game. It's just you and the golf course."

"Thanks, Ken. I won't let you down."

During Dave's flight home he considered his decision not to join Ken on the trip to Zurich. They had decided Ken might be able to get a better deal if he were alone. This would allow him to negotiate first with his friend, Dag, rather than have Dave talking directly to Sven. Dag would be more sympathetic to their plight. This reasoning sounded good, but Bradford knew the decision was colored slightly by Saturday's golf match. Dave's opponent in the finals was his old friend, Buzz Peters. He wasn't particularly looking forward to that match-up. They were no longer friends.

The relationship between Mary and Dave had not been the same since that night in Cabo. Mary hardly spoke to him the next two weeks. Dave didn't blame her. His feelings alternated between remorse, guilt and depression. He apologized daily and more than once, got down on his knees to beg her forgiveness. Nothing worked. He finally talked her into a long weekend trip to Aruba. It didn't help.

They attended a church couple's retreat and were encouraged to talk about their relationship. It seemed to help. They rediscovered the things that had brought them together and made them fall in love. They talked about reasons for Dave's infidelity and Dave finally admitted that his gambling could be an addiction. It helped to mingle with other couples that were struggling through problems of their own. The theme of the retreat was "communication." Tell your loved one what's in your heart. On the second evening, Dave and Mary opened their hearts to each other.

"Dave, I don't know if I can ever forgive you. I can't help it. At night I close my eyes and images of you and that woman flash through my mind."

"Mary, I love you more now than when I proposed to you. My heart skips when I see you playing tennis at the club or when I see you in a crowd. I want you more now than ever."

"I'm sorry, Dave; I just can't put it behind me. I try."

"No, Mary; I'm the one that is sorry. Someday, I will make it up to you."

The weekend retreat was a positive step, but not a panacea. They seemed to be getting back to normal when their relationship suffered another shock. Bradford returned a day early from a business trip to New York. The kids said Mary had gone somewhere with Jill so he called Buzz to see where they went. It was still early and maybe they could catch up with the women. He was surprised when Jill answered the phone. "Jill, hi, this is Dave. Is Mary there?"

"No, I haven't seen her. In fact, I thought you and Buzz were playing poker tonight. Did you change your plans?"

"I just got in from the airport, Jill. I haven't talked to Buzz in several days." There was silence on both ends of the call.

"Okay, there must have been a mix-up somewhere. Good night, Jill." They both knew there was no mix-up.

Mary came home at 4:00 AM disheveled and guilty. Her clothes smelled of alcohol and cologne, and something else. The relationship was back to square one.

Thank God for king sized beds. Dave lay awake the entire night wondering how their relationship had gotten to this point. Everything he had worked for and held dear was in danger of being lost. He thought of Buzz and Mary together and blood rushed to his head. He was angry. An affair was one thing, but to do it with a friend is even worse. How would he face his friends at the club? Dave's ego and self-esteem had taken a beating, and he knew he was feeling sorry for himself.

Around 6:00 AM Dave's thoughts began to take a different path. He recognized that nothing was important without Mary and the kids. He could bury himself in his work, but what would be the point. He had a choice to make. What was done was done; the question was what to do about it. Dave made a decision to go forward. The first step was to close the distance and hold her in his arms while she slept.

Dave must have fallen asleep because it was 9:00 AM when Mary gently shook him and said breakfast was ready. He was still trying to focus when she thanked him for snuggling with her last night, and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Breakfast in five minutes," Mary announced as she headed back to the kitchen. "The kids have already eaten and gone to school."

Cold water on his face brought Dave back to reality. As he brushed his teeth, he remembered the decision that he had made earlier.

Coffee and fruit topped with strawberry yogurt were on the table. "Looks, good," Dave said as he sat down at the table.

Mary came over and put her hand on Dave's shoulder. "Dave, I am so ..."

Dave didn't give her a chance to finish. "Mary, before you say anything there is something I need you to know." He pulled her down on his knee so their faces were inches apart. This was the most important moment of Dave's life and he wanted her to look into his eyes and feel his sincerity.

"Mary, I love you so much and I can't envision life without you. I realize now how much I have hurt you, and promise to never hurt you again. Starting this morning, I'm going to work as hard as I can to make our relationship better. I know I don't deserve you, but can you forgive me?"

Mary's eyes were a gateway to her mind and Bradford could see her emotions flowing within; surprise, relief, happiness and love; mostly love. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to speak, but nothing came out other than tears and sobs of happiness. They hugged for several minutes until she stopped crying.

"Me too," she said and started crying again.

Dave's coffee was cold so he picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom. Every day since then, Dave reminds himself of his promise to her and tries to do the little things that make their relationship special. It must be working because he has never been happier.

"Me too", she says without prompting.

Buzz apologized profusely the next day and claimed it had been a one-time mistake. There was a social event that he was committed to, and Mary offered to go along as a friend. One thing had led to another.

Bradford heard him, but wasn't listening. Maybe it was ego, but he couldn't forgive him; friends don't do that. From that point on Dave was civil to Buzz, but could not be his friend. There would be no more Friday golf games.

The 18th was a great finishing hole and Bradford was determined to finish strong after the bogey on seventeen. The fairway was 70 yards wide in the landing area, but narrowed to only 30 yards at the 250-yard marker where several bunkers cut into the right side of the fairway. Dave hit driver and still was 20 yards short of the bunkers.

Buzz got greedy off the tee, and paid the penalty, catching one of the large, deep bunkers. He was 30 yards past Dave's drive, but would have to get lucky and catch a good lie. Unfortunately for Buzz his ball had rolled to the front of the bunker and left him under the lip where he needed to get the ball up quickly. All he could do was advance the ball 40 yards with a lob wedge, leaving him 210 yards from a green protected by water in the front. Bradford hit five-wood to 90 yards and was in perfect position.

Chris followed Ken to the lounge. She wasn't sure this was a good idea. "Ken, let's be careful. I suggest we keep a clear head and see what Alberto and Pedro have to say. They might have more bad news. There will be plenty of time to celebrate later."

"Double-scotch and water, bartender, and a glass of chardonnay for the lady. We'll be at the table in the corner." Ken wasn't listening. He had just arrived in Cabo San Lucas after three days in Zurich.

Ken pulled a two-page outline from his briefcase as they waited for the waitress to bring their drinks. "Chris, relax; there is nothing to worry about. Take a look at this. Our friends in Zurich have given us everything we asked for, and more. Mario will be ecstatic when he sees this."

Chris looked over Ken's re-cap of his meetings with Dagfin and Sven. She couldn't believe what she was reading. Chris had come with bad news, The Zurich audit team had indeed, found a number of discrepancies in the books that could be classified as fraud. She asked Alberto and Pedro to dinner to update Ken, and discuss a strategy for tomorrow's meeting. "Ken, I'm telling you. Dag's audit team thinks there is fraud and is recommending that Sven stop all funding until they find out the details.""It doesn't matter," said Ken, "don't worry about it. We have the funding, all of it. Sven doesn't care. The $350M will be wire-transferred Tuesday. Let's order some good wine and celebrate."

"Alberto and Pedro can present the offer to Mario before tomorrow's 2:00 PM meeting. In fact, speak of the devil, here they are now."

"Alberto, Pedro, buenas noches amigos. It's great to see you again."

"Your Spanish still needs a little work Ken, but as long as you bring the beautiful Senorita with you, we don't mind. They shook hands and gave Chris a warm hug.

The hostess appeared and informed them their table was ready. Chris was fond of both Alberto and Pedro, but was still apprehensive as they walked to the table.

It had been a funny evening. It should have been a celebration, but Ken was in a strange mood and was drinking too much. Chris finally got an opportunity to talk with Ken privately. "Ken, what's bothering you? There is something you're not telling us, isn't there?"

"We got the funding, Chris, so don't worry about that. Something happened at the Zurich airport that I'm still trying to sort out. Let's talk tomorrow morning." Alberto and Pedro came back from the restroom and were getting ready to order another drink.

"I don't know about the rest of you," said Chris, "but I'm tired. It will be a long day tomorrow if I don't get some sleep." Pedro and Alberto agreed, and the small party headed for the elevators.

"Go ahead without me," Ken said. "I'm going to have a nightcap on the balcony. I'll see you in the morning."

Ken didn't keep his promise.

Buzz was on his sixth beer when he hit 5-wood from 215 yards, over water, to the back of the green. Buzz looked at Dave and gloated. "Top that."

Bradford tried, but his wedge still came up 15 feet short. Not bad, but not what he had hoped for. Buzz almost holed his long putt, but settled for a great par.

Dave wanted this birdie badly. It would be a tremendous advantage going into next weekend 1-up rather than even. His putt was on line, but seemed to hit a wall as it neared the hole. It hung on the lip for an instant, and dropped.

Bradford was 1-up with 18 to play.

### Book Two

### The Long Week

Saturday

Tragedy in Cabo

Bradford was in a great mood as he walked off the green. He had picked up three holes on the back nine and was now one-up with a realistic chance to win the tournament next Saturday. Dave's mood quickly changed when he spotted Mary running towards him. It was obvious she was upset and had been crying.

"What's wrong, Mary? Are the kids okay?"

"The kids are fine, but I have horrible news. There is no easy way to say this."

"Just tell me, Mary; what is it?"

" Ken's dead."

"What! It can't be. Are you sure?" Dave knew he wasn't making any sense and struggled to get his emotions under control. "I'm sorry, Mary, tell me what happened." Dave's wrapped his arms around her and they hugged until Mary regained her composure.

"Chris called about two hours ago, just after you teed off on the back nine. I didn't want to bother you so I just waited. I know this tournament is important to you, and Chris said there is nothing we can do right now. Was that okay?"

"That's fine, honey, but the match isn't that important. I would have stopped playing. You know, I bet Buzz would have wanted to stop too. He and Ken were good friends. But that doesn't matter, tell me what happened."

"Chris said he fell from the restaurant balcony in Cabo last night. They had dinner with Pedro and Alberto. Everything was fine. She and the others were tired and left about midnight, but Ken stayed to have a nightcap. She said Ken had a few drinks but not that many. He wasn't drunk"

"Ken could hold his liquor. He wouldn't get drunk enough to fall over the railing. Did Chris say what happened in Zurich?"

"She said everything had gone well. Ken got the financing and was in a pretty good mood although something was bothering him. She called again an hour ago and asked that you call her as soon as possible."

"Does anyone else know?" Bradford asked as he put his clubs in the trunk and walked to the clubhouse.

"Judy knows. I was such a wreck that I had to tell someone. She and Fred are waiting inside. Fred also thought Bill should be told right away. I don't think they told anyone else. We thought you might want to break the news to Ken's friends."

Bradford was numb as he walked into the clubhouse. The news was starting to sink in. He tried to smile as a number of club members offered their congratulations on a good round, and wished him luck next week.

Buzz was sitting at the table with Bill and Fred. It was clear that he had not been told. He congratulated me once more and got up to leave the table. "Hold on, Buzz. There is something you need to know."

Fred and Bill stood and offered Dave their sympathy and Judy gave him a warm hug and kiss. She had been crying too. Bradford returned their expressions of sympathy. They were Ken's friends too. Buzz was trying to figure out what was going on, but the beers were getting in the way.

"Bill, I have a message to call Chris. Let me call her and she if has anything new. Why don't you bring Buzz up to date? When I get back, we can make an announcement to the others."

Chris picked up on the first ring. "Dave, I'm glad you called. Mary told you what happened, didn't she?"

"She did, Chris, a few minutes ago. I'm still numb. How are you holding up?"

"Not well, Dave, not well. I have only felt this way once before, when my brother died. Ken was special. Are you still planning on coming down here tonight?"

"I'll be there as soon as I can, Chris." Her voice told Dave he was needed in Cabo even if the meeting was cancelled. "Have the police told you anything?"

"The police just say they are looking into all possibilities including foul play. I get the feeling they know something."

"Okay, I'll see you later, Chris. Try to get some rest. Maybe tomorrow we can go to church."

Buzz was stone sober when Bradford returned and offered his sympathy. He was close to tears.

"Dave," Bill suggested, "Why don't you make an announcement? Ken worked for you and was your friend. I feel guilty watching people celebrate when a friend of theirs just died. When you are done, I would like to say a couple words."

"Hey, quiet down, guys, I need your attention? I have some bad news." The room became deathly still when they saw the expression on Dave's face.

"Last night Ken Reid fell to his death from a 12th floor restaurant balcony in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico."

Murmurs of shock and disbelief spread through the room. "What happened, Dave?" someone finally asked.

"We're not sure. All I know is that the Mexican police are looking into it, but right now they assume it was an accident." There were murmurs of disbelief, and then silence as they waited for Dave to continue.

"Today's golf match with Buzz doesn't mean much now, except to provide an example of how much Ken meant to Mary and me. I was a 16-handicap three years ago when I met Ken, and you all have witnessed the improvement. Ken deserves the credit. He also was a great friend and business associate. Mary and I will miss him on and off the golf course."

"Buzz, would you like to say a few words?"

"Thank you, Dave. Ken was my best friend. I feel terrible having played golf today and not knowing he was gone. But you know, that's what he would have wanted."

Buzz was close to tears as were most of the men in the room. _"Today's round of golf seems like a distant memory," Bradford thought._

Chris met Bradford at the Cabo airport and they drove back to the hotel. It was obvious she was taking Ken's death hard.

They stopped for a drink in the lounge and ordered two martinis. They both needed it. Bradford ordered a second round before Chris felt like talking. She had two pieces of news, neither of which was good.

"The meeting with Sven and Mario this afternoon was a disaster. Ken had told us at dinner that the financing was set. Zurich agreed to provide everything we requested in return for 49% equity. Mario would still maintain 51% control which was his prime concern. We went into the meeting assuming everything was set, until Sven blindsided us."

"What happened?"

"Well, Sven starts out by asking for the findings from the audit group, which pretty much spelled out that revenue was being siphoned off the top, plus a few other irregularities. This takes about an hour and Mario is forced to apologize and say it won't happen again. You could tell Mario was getting mad."

"We all knew this, but Ken said Friday that Sven didn't care. He had everything worked out with Zurich. Sven just did this to make Mario grovel."

"Then came the topper. Sven says this can't go on. He wants to buy Mario out and take control of all the projects. He won't stand to be cheated; he made an offer; $100M Mario, take it or leave it."

"I thought Mario was going to explode, but he didn't. He kept his composure."

"Let me sleep on it, Mr. Johansson. We'll get back to you tomorrow." Mario got up and left the room. The meeting was over.

"That's where we are now, Dave. The meeting is set for tomorrow at 1:00 PM. Mario would like to meet with you this evening."

"Chris, let's meet with Mario in the morning. You and I need to spend some time together and talk. Have you eaten?"

"No, I haven't felt much like eating today, but I need something. Let me tell you the next bit of news. The police are talking like it was murder, and interviewing everyone that was at the restaurant that evening. Apparently several people saw Ken talking with another man shortly before he fell. They are trying to find this guy but only have a general description."

"Who would want to kill Ken?"

Dagfin was not happy. "Why the change in plans, I thought we had a deal worked out with Ken? What happened?"

"I'm not sure, either," Sven answered. "I'm just following orders. It's too bad about Ken. I liked him and I know the two of you were friends."

"Yes, he was a great guy to work with. The police are talking like there might have been foul play. I certainly hope it didn't have anything to do with this deal."

"Not to my knowledge, Dag. It was probably just an unfortunate accident."

"Tell that SOB what he can do with his buyout offer," Romano screamed. "We keep 51%. That's non-negotiable. You tell him that, Mario. I thought you said we had a deal to get the money."

"That's what Ken told Alberto and Pedro last night. I guess he was wrong or someone changed their mind."

"Try to find out what happened, Mario. There is something going on here that we don't understand."

"Hi honey, it's me. I got here okay and had dinner with Chris. How are things on your end?"

"I'm glad you called. Everything is a mess here. The kids are having a rough time. They looked forward to Ken's visits. They finally went to sleep an hour ago. How are things with Mario?"

"We have some problems with Sven's group, but I'll call you tomorrow and fill you in when I know more. Have you talked to anyone about the funeral, like where and when? Is his ex-wife going to handle it or should we have it in Tampa?"

"I left several messages for her to call me, but haven't heard from her. I'm not sure if she knows yet. It's too late to call again this evening. I'm going to take a pill and try to get some sleep."

"Good night; I love you."

"I love you too, Dave. Be careful and good luck tomorrow."

Sunday

The Zurich Proposal

"Are you with us or against us Dave?" Mario asked. "You can't have it both ways. Either you are on our side or you're not."

"Mario, let's go into the meeting with an open mind. We need to come to some sort of agreement or everyone will lose."

"That's easy for you to say. I'm the one that stands to lose the $40M deposit," Mario pointed out.

"Mario, the casino and the other three properties are legally registered to Global Management, so any buyout offer will need my approval. I can get funding elsewhere, but I'm sure Sven's attorneys will claim we breached their contract. They could probably shut down the casino and keep the Miami and Vegas projects from opening until the matter is resolved. That could be a couple years. And besides, Romano would still be out his $40M."

Mario didn't correct Dave's statement that it was Romano's $40M. "I just don't know why they are playing hardball. Ken told Alberto and Pedro at dinner that everything was set. Chris was there. Why the change of heart?"

"Let's find out. Here they come now."

Everyone settled down around the conference table. Pedro and Alberto flanked Mario. The Zurich group included Sven, Dag and their lead auditor, Susan Malcolm. Chris and Dave made eight.

"Dave, before we start, let me say how sorry we are about Ken. I'm sure I speak for all of us at the table, including Mario's team. We will miss him."

"Thanks, Sven. Ken's death was indeed unfortunate, especially when he had apparently reached an agreement with your group regarding funding the remaining projects. Is this true?"

"Yes and no, Dave. Ken had made a proposal to us. I initially accepted, but unfortunately, that decision was over-ridden by a vote of our Board of Directors. They refused to pay the $10M additional finder's fee that Ken demanded from us."

"What?" Dave said in disbelief; "What are you talking about Sven?"

"Ken was demanding $10M be paid to his account in return for convincing you and Mario to continue with the agreement. He threatened to obtain the money from other lenders and fight us in court. I agreed to his terms initially, but was out voted. The Board instructed me to make the offer we made to Mario yesterday."

Chris put her hand on Dave's to calm him down and turned to Sven. "Let me assure you Mr. Johansson, Dave and I know nothing about this $10M request. Ken's statement that we do have other sources for the remaining funds is true, but I can assure this was never more than a backup plan in case you decided not to exercise your options."

"Is that true, Dave?" asked Sven.

"Absolutely! Our goal has always been to make this partnership work. Are you sure you understood Ken correctly? I can't believe he would have done this on his own."

"There was no mistake, Dave, and unfortunately, there is no turning back now, particularly after reviewing the findings from the audit. Our Board has voted. We want to buy Mario out. I have been instructed to cease all future funding and cut our losses."

Mario couldn't keep silent any longer; he was livid. "Let me point out Sven, that the buyout option in the contract is mutual. If necessary, I'll buy you out."

"Go ahead," Sven answered. "Can you really raise that much money or was Ken bluffing? Either way, it won't happen soon enough to exercise your options on the Phase II projects. You would still forfeit the $40M deposit."

Bradford interrupted; "my company, Global Management, is the legal owner of these projects, and to my knowledge we are not mentioned in Susan's audit findings. I, for one, will do whatever it takes to keep the casino and the three Phase II projects going. There has been a lot of hard work by everybody over the last two years. Let's find a way to make everybody happy."

"Besides," Dave added, "$100M is not a fair price; it's much too low."

"What price do you suggest? " Sven asked..

"Chris has an idea, and I think it's a good one. Chris and I will obtain a business valuation to determine a fair buyout price. Let's meet in Tampa next week, after Ken's funeral. The funeral will probably be Thursday if we can get the body released in time. I assume you would both be attending."

Both Mario and Sven nodded in agreement.

"This will also give us a few days to cool off and make sure that we can't find a way to coexist. If not, we will need to agree on a procedure to determine who will get control of the company."

"That sounds good to me," said Mario, "a few days more won't hurt although we need to exercise our options on the other projects by a week from Monday. The seller says he has other offers."

"Okay," said Sven. "Keep Dag in the loop."

Bradford had bought a few days, but had no idea how they were going to resolve the impasse.

Dave and Chris upgraded to first class for the flight back to Tampa that evening. It was a red eye through Dallas that wouldn't arrive until 5 AM. They were too tired to talk business and hoped to get some sleep. They both slept solidly for almost three hours.

As the Southwest flight approached Tampa, Bradford asked Chris if she wanted a drink before landing. "I could do with a glass of merlot."

"No thanks, but there is something I need to show you." She placed her leather wallet on Dave's tray table and flipped it open. Inside was a badge and identification card that read:

Chris Lewis

Special Agent

U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency

Bradford's mouth fell open. He couldn't speak.

"I'm sorry to surprise you like this, Dave, but my boss would like to meet with us at 3:00 PM tomorrow. I'll explain then. Here is the address and phone number. In the meantime, please keep this to yourself. You can tell Mary after the meeting."

Wow, how many surprises can there be in one weekend? Bradford thought.

Bradford fell asleep as soon as he found his bed. Mary woke up and let him snuggle into her arms, where he felt safe.

Monday

Letter from the Dead

Bradford slept until 10 AM Monday and awoke refreshed. It was almost like subconsciously he blocked out the weekend. It hit him like a sledgehammer as he brushed his teeth; Ken wouldn't be coming in to work today, or tomorrow.

"Good morning, sunshine. Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Give me 15 minutes. I need a shower."

Mary brought Dave up to date while he nibbled at his favorite breakfast; flavored oatmeal, with a side dish of bananas and strawberries covered with Dannon yogurt. "Lynda Reid finally called me back this morning. She had already heard about Ken. We decided the funeral should be in Tampa since that is where most of his friends are. Other than Joe, and his two kids, Ken didn't keep in touch with many others. Lynda offered to help with the arrangements. By the way, Ken left a will listing you as the executor of his estate."

"I guess that leaves us in charge," Dave said. "I'll try to help, but I'm afraid this means you and Grace have a lot of work to do. I'm afraid I'll be pretty busy the next few days. Let's contact our attorney and ask him to look at the will and see what needs to be done. Have you selected a funeral home?"

"I figured you would want me to do this so I got a headstart. Everyone has offered to help out. I'm having lunch with Judy and Ginny, and then we are going to meet with a friend of Fred's that owns the funeral home in Carrollwod."

Dave brought Mary up to date with the events of the weekend. He didn't mention Chris' revelation about her secret employer.

The office was quiet when Dave walked in. Mary had called everyone Sunday. Grace gave him a hug before the door closed, and started to cry. "Is there anything I can do?" Grace volunteered.

"Thanks for asking, Grace. I would appreciate it if you would help Mary with the funeral arrangements. Please give her a call and ask what you can do."

"I'll call her right now," Grace said as she grabbed the phone.

Soon, everyone was in the reception area offering condolences and help. Ken was well liked.

"Thanks everyone. We all are going to miss Ken in many ways."

"Grace should have a little more information later today and may ask some of you to help out. In the meantime, if anyone needs some time off because of this, I understand; just take it."

"Roger; Jane; could I see you in my office in, let's say 15 minutes? Give me a few minutes to check messages."

It would take more than 15 minutes to read his emails, but Bradford scanned them quickly to see if there was anything urgent from Sven's group or Mario. There was a voice message to call Dagfin. Grace peeked in and said Chris called earlier and asked that he call her on her cell as soon as he got in. _No sense putting it off, Bradford decided as he picked up the phone._

"Chris, what's up?" Bradford's tone must have given him away, because he could tell that Chris was a little put off. Our relationship had changed.

"Good morning, Dave. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for having to keep things from you, but I think you will understand better after our meeting this afternoon. Are we still on for 3:00?"

"I'll be there, anything else?"

"Yes, I can't make it in today, but I will start working on the valuations this evening and be in the office first-thing tomorrow. Also, as I said last night, please keep this meeting confidential. See you at 3:00."

Dave knew Chris well enough to know she wouldn't have reminded him to keep the meeting confidential unless her boss insisted. Was there someone close to him that they didn't want to know?

Roger, and Jane, the in-house accountant, came into Dave's office. He briefly told them about the need to place a sales value on the four Phase I properties. "In other words, what is a fair sales price as of today? Chris will be in tomorrow morning, but I wanted to get a head start. We need the numbers Wednesday."

"I suggest we use the as-is sales value rather than asset value or return on investment," Jane suggested. Roger and Dave agreed.

"Who has the latest financial statements and profit projections for Cabo San Lucas?" Jane asked.

"I'll email you the latest numbers," Dave replied. "All we have are three months actual results for the casino and opening balance sheets for the other projects. Ask Grace to get you the files on each property. Okay, let's get started, and make sure you document your assumptions. Let's see what you can come up with by tomorrow."

They gave Dave that "you got to be kidding" look.

Chris introduced her boss, Steve Wilson, who was sitting at the head of the conference table. Dave was more than a little nervous.

"Mr. Bradford, thanks for coming in on such short notice and after such bad news. We are sorry about what happened to Mr. Reid. However, as you will see, the events that transpired over the weekend may present us with an opportunity. Let me introduce my colleagues. To your right is Jack Mathews, with the CIA. Next is Jeremy Placik with the FBI and to his right is Andrea Yeager with the Governor's task force on organized crime." Everyone nodded their hellos.

Bradford soon learned that Steve's style was intimidation.

"Chris says you can be trusted, but quite frankly, not everyone at the table agrees. We need your promise that what we discuss here will remain here. You will tell no one. Understood?"

_This is bullshit, Bradford thought._ "Do I need a lawyer, Mr. Wilson? If I am being accused of something, let's hear it? If you want my cooperation, I suggest you let me know what we are talking about. Otherwise, this meeting is over."

Chris interrupted. "Dave, nobody is accusing you of anything. What Steve meant is that you will hear things today that implicate some of the people close to you. We need to know that out of friendship or loyalty, you won't feel obligated to tell them they are under investigation. Is that accurate Steve?"

"That's right Chris. I'm sorry if I came across wrong, Dave, but some of us have been working this case for almost four years. I guess we are a little edgy."

"Okay, you have my word, Mr. Wilson. I'll do what I can to help." Names and faces were flashing through Dave's mind. Whom are they talking about?

"Let me get right to the point, Dave. We believe Mario and Romano Montoya are drug dealers. Romano heads up a cartel that produces heroin and cocaine and smuggles it into the States. Mario is their East Coast distributor." Steve paused for effect.

Bradford was shocked, but not totally surprised. He kept silent.

Steve continued. "The DEA has been working on this case for several years. We have intercepted several drug shipments, but nothing that ties the shipments to Mario and Romano. Our break came when they decided to develop new ways to launder their profits. They needed a front man to set up these companies and avoid the restrictions in the post 9/11 Privacy Act. That's where you came in."

They now had Dave's full attention.

"Jack, why don't you take it from here?"

"The CIA is always trying to track the money from these drug lords. Romano is just one of many. The profits get lost in the various West Indies and Caribbean island nations that offer ways to launder anonymous deposits. A couple years ago the DEA asked us to look at the Zurich group and where the funds for these projects are coming from. We have no proof, but suspect these funds might be flowing through the same Caribbean accounts and banks being used by the drug lords."

Bradford was overwhelmed by what he was hearing, and felt defensive.

"I'm confused. Are you saying that Romano and Mario are funding their own projects? This doesn't make sense, particularly when they are at each other's throats. Am I missing something?"

"Don't feel bad, Dave. We don't have all the answers either. It could be that Romano and Mario don't know anything about Zurich. We just don't know. That's why we need your help. There might be a way to find out. Andrea, tell Mr. Bradford what we have discovered."

"It gets even more confusing, Dave," Andrea continued. "Other people you know may also be involved. There appears to be a connection between the drug shipments and the Florida Attorney General's campaign. Portions of at least two drug shipments were apparently siphoned off and used to fund his initial campaign for District Attorney, and more recently his run for Governor."

Wow!

"But, how could this happen without Bill's knowledge? He's the campaign manager. Are you saying...?" Dave had answered his own question. He now understood the need for secrecy.

"Is there anyone else you suspect? Chris, you asked me not to tell Mary. Why?"

"Don't worry about that," Steve answered. "We just didn't want you talking about it with her until you understood the ramifications, especially when we heard Mary and Ginny were having lunch today."

"Is my phone tapped?"

"No, but we do have a tap on Bill's phone."

While Andrea was talking, a secretary handed Jack an envelope marked "extremely sensitive" As he read the contents, Jack became more engrossed.

Steve noticed, and asked; "Jack, should we take a short break?"

"Yes, let's do that. Dave, could you please wait outside for a few minutes?"

Dave's head was spinning. He was happy for the break.

Bradford waited outside for 30 minutes before Steve came out to ask if he could come back tomorrow. "Dave, something important has come up. In the meantime, please don't discuss what you have heard with anyone, not even Mary. It would be too easy for her to let something slip out to one of her friends."

Bradford wasn't sure what to think, but he needed time to sort this out. When Jack opened the envelope, he had gotten a pretty good look at the letter. It looked like Ken's handwriting.

Tuesday

The Big Sting

Chris, Roger and Jane were already huddled in the conference room when Dave got into the office at 9:30. Mary and Grace had been working on funeral arrangements. Ken's remains were being released today and would be flown back to Tampa. They decided to have the viewing Wednesday evening from 6 to 9, and a church service the following morning.

"Fred and Bill asked to be pallbearers," Mary said. "We need four more names."

"How about Roger, Joe Fredericks, Buzz and Ron Arnold, a golfing friend from the club," Dave suggested. He half-jokingly asked if Ken should be laid out in his best golf slacks and shirt, rather than a suit, which he seldom wore.

Sometimes Mary didn't appreciate Dave's attempts at humor.

Bradford poured a cup of coffee and joined the group in the conference room. "Any progress?"

"Not yet, Dave, but we are getting there," Chris replied. "One thing, I was going to use the 3-month revenue numbers as revised by the audit team. Okay?"

"That's fine, Chris. When you get a chance, I need to talk with you for a few minutes. And by the way, the viewing is tomorrow evening and the church service and burial is Thursday morning. Pass the word."

Chris came into Dave's office and sat down. "If it's about the meeting later, I can't tell you much because I don't know. I do know they were excited. Whatever it was in that envelope was important."

"That's not it, Chris. How well did you know Ken? I heard some rumors, but didn't care if they were true or not."

"Why ask now, Dave?"

"Because I'm trying to make sense of what Sven said about Ken. I don't want to believe that Ken would demand a payoff. What can you tell me?"

She hesitated, before answering. "I have thought about that too. Ken and I were close and shared a lot of personal information. I would have known if he was going to try to hold up Sven for $10M. I don't believe it."

"Did Ken know about your DEA job?"

"I don't think so. It's possible, but I really don't think so. You know Ken; he would have said something."

"Are you telling me everything you know about the envelope that Jack got? You don't know what was in it or where it came from?"

Chris got up to leave. "I've told you what I know and I don't appreciate being grilled. I'll see you at 3:00."

Dave was perplexed. If that was Ken's handwriting, who did he send it to? Why wouldn't he have sent it to him, or Chris?

"Dave, here is what we want you to do." Steve was talking, and Chris, Jack, Andrea and Bradford were listening. "The way I understand this, both Mario and Sven want to buy out the other group. Mario can't raise the money in time and stands to lose the $40M deposit if he can't come up with at least $200M by Monday. Sven's attorneys can probably block Mario from buying him out unless he agrees to the sale. Is that about it?"

"Good summary" Bradford replied. "Should we flip a coin?"

"No, we have a better idea. We want you to set up your golf tournament Saturday as a winner-take-all match. Mario will back Buzz and Sven will back you. The winner gets control of the company."

"I'm missing something. How does this help you?"

"You told us that Mario needs $200M by Monday or he will forfeit a $40M deposit. Right?"

Dave nodded and Steve continued.

"You will insist that the winner pays off immediately after the match, which means that if you win, Sven's group will need to wire transfer the money Saturday afternoon. The FBI will be waiting to track the funds. Saturday is a slow day for international fund transfers, and the transaction will be easy to isolate. We have a list of banks and account numbers to watch."

"What if Buzz wins?" Dave asked. "Most people would consider him the favorite."

"The scenario if Buzz wins is not nearly as good, but we can't help that. Mario will probably get away for now, but eventually we will get him. Sven will also need to raise the money to pay off Mario. Either way, we are hoping the money tells a story."

"We really need you to win."

"Mario and Romano might make a mistake," Steve added. "They will assume that Buzz will win, which means they need about $200M in cash by Saturday plus whatever it takes to buy out the Zurich group. That's a lot of money to come up with in a couple days, even for Romano. The DEA will be working overtime this weekend."

"Let me give you a scenario and you tell me what will happen. The match is even after the 16th hole, and I win seventeen," Bradford hypothesized. "Will I make it to the 18th tee?"

Chris interjected; "I will be walking with you the entire round. It's my job to protect you."

"That's nice," Bradford said sarcastically. "I'm glad there won't be any pressure on me Saturday."

The meeting was over in plenty of time to go back to the office, or play nine holes. Dave's clubs were in the trunk, which made the decision easy. All he needed was permission.

"Mary, I'm going to try to get a few holes in before dark. Why don't you call Fred and Judy to see if they wanted to join us for a couple drinks and a casual dinner tonight? Applebee's or Chili's would be fine with me. You guys decide." Taking Mary out to dinner always worked. Bradford headed for the golf course.

"How did you hit the ball, Dave?" Fred asked. "You haven't touched a club since Saturday, have you?"

The four friends were sitting at a small, upscale French restaurant. It was nice, but not what he had suggested. He should know that if he wanted casual, he shouldn't have asked Mary and Judy to pick the restaurant. A woman's idea of casual is much different than a man's.

"No, I haven't, Fred, and I was almost out of balls by the fourth hole. I settled down a little and played the last five holes pretty well. I came up behind a four-some which helped slow me down. I started playing two or three balls just about every shot. It was just what I needed."

"How was that movie with Jack Nicholson?" Mary asked Judy, obviously wanting to change the subject.

"It was hilarious. Fred was laughing so hard his face was red. You two have to see it."

It was a nice, comfortable evening among friends, just what Bradford needed. There was little talk about business or the funeral until they were ready to leave.

"I guess we will see you two tomorrow at the funeral home," Dave said.

"Yeah, we'll be there. It will be tough saying goodbye, especially when we don't know what happened. Have the police told you anything?"

"Just enough to know it wasn't suicide or an accident. I think they might be on to something, but they aren't telling me. I gather it was business-related, but I'm not sure."

"Keep me updated, Dave. Let me know if Judy and I can do anything."

"I will, Fred. You and Judy have been good friends."

Wednesday

Business Valuation

They valued the existing four businesses at $1,400,000,000; $1.4 billion dollars. Bradford was amazed at the final number.

Phase 1 Project Summary (Current Valuation)

1.1 Cabo San Lucas, Mx Resort and Casino $350M - ($750)

1.2 Miami Beach Marina and Condominiums $150M - ($150M)

1.3 Dominican Republic Mixed Use Facility $275M - $325M)

1.4 Las Vegas Casino & Golf Course $225M - ($225M)

Total Phase I Funding Requirements - $1B - ($1.4B)

Phase II Estimate - $3.2 Billion

Mario' Buyout Option (67% Owner) - $ 462 M

Sven Buyout Option (33% Owner) - $ 938 M

Global Management (5%) Commission

"Once you get all the permits and break ground, the value of your investment jumps 50%," Jane explained. "And when you open for business, there is another bump. Just look at how fast the condo market is growing."

They estimated the value of Mario's option on the Phase II projects was worth $50M, including the $40M in cash that Mario and Romano have fronted.

Bradford spent two hours going over the assumptions with Chris, Roger and Jane. He played devil's advocate.

Dave concluded that Zurich was getting short-changed. "Shouldn't the $850M they have already funded be deducted from their buyout?" he asked.

"We covered that another way. The debt is carried on the Cabo Balance Sheet as a liability. Our valuations are net of liabilities. If Mario wins, he would need to repay the loans."

They had done a good job, and at 11:00 AM the evaluation was emailed to Mario and Alberto, and Sven and Dag.

Mario called after lunch. "Alberto says he has no problem with the values you assigned; your people did a nice job. We need to know if we have the next round of funding in place. Can we buy Sven out?"

"Yes, but not in time. It will take 30-45 days to close."

"What about getting me the $200M for Phase II? I don't want to forfeit $40,000,000."

"You might try to sell them to Sven. Offer to buy him out of the casino and other three projects, and let him have the Phase II deals. I'm not sure he will go for it, but you could try."

"I'll consider that, Dave, but I agree with you. I doubt if Sven would give me anything for the options. Sven wants it all. No matter, I am working on getting the $200M. Maybe we can come up with the $462M and buy them out."

"Good luck, Mario. I'll see you tonight. Let's get together after the funeral tomorrow. If you really think you can come up with $542M I have an idea for determining who will have first option for the buyout."

"I'm interested," Mario answered quickly.

"Okay, we can talk about it tomorrow. By the way, are you betting on Buzz or me Saturday?"

"No offense, Dave, but I've played golf with both of you. If I were a betting man, I would have to put my money on Buzz; no offense."

"None taken, Mario. Gary Gagne, the club pro, is running a little betting pool on the match. Thought you might want to get in. 7-5 odds. If you bet on Buzz you need to bet $7.00 to win $5.00. Just like in Vegas, but here the house isn't taking 10% off the top. What are you in for?"

"Tell Gary I'm in for $140 on Buzz. I'll keep Buzz sober Friday night and shoot him if he tries to drink Saturday."

"Darn! Now I need to come up with a new strategy for winning Saturday. Okay, you're in for $140."

Sven was on a plane from Zurich to Tampa for the funeral, but Dag would have an opportunity to review Bradford's package before Sven arrived. They had a dinner meeting at the club scheduled for Thursday evening.

Chris came into Dave's office and Dave repeated his conversation with Mario. "Getting Mario to bet on Buzz won't be a problem," he said. "Getting Sven to back me might be more difficult."

"I don't know, Dave. He might just go for it. What is interesting is Mario's statement that he might be able to get the money from a friend. I'm guessing Romano. That's worth passing on to Steve."

"How is the legal work proceeding? Are we still on schedule? Steve wanted the contracts ready by Friday, but attorneys never do anything quickly except bill you."

"I'll check, Dave, but that shouldn't be a problem."

It was almost noon, and Dave had a 1:00 tee time with three friends from the club. He needed the practice. He hit the ball pretty good, and shot a 77. More importantly, he won $20 from his playing partners by sinking a six-foot birdie putt on 18. Now, that's pressure.

Mary and Dave arrived at the funeral home early to pay their respects. Dave wasn't sure why, but he was disappointed it was a closed casket. Mary had not told him.

They knelt before the casket with tears in their eyes. Dave apologized to Ken for getting him into this mess. He thanked him for all the good work he had done and promised to find out what had happened. He thanked him for being his friend. "I'll make you him proud of me Saturday," he whispered.

Ken's family arrived soon after. His parents had passed away several years ago, but his sister, ex-wife and teenage sons, Ken Jr. and Jessie, were there. Bradford had met the boys twice before and offered condolences. They said the stuff you said at funerals to people you hardly know. Similar conversations would be repeated many times over the next three hours.

By 9:30 the last visitor had left and the Dave and Mary were ready to go home. It had been a long day.

Thursday

All or Nothing

The church service was short and informal. Ken would have liked it. The priest asked Bradford to give a 5-minute eulogy telling the group about Ken. "Talk about your relationship with Ken at work, or on the golf course. He had a good sense of humor, but reminded Dave that this was a church service, not a roast.

Dave split his time with Mary, or maybe they each talked for five minutes. She did a much better job.

"Sure, Ken was about work and golf. Dave tells me he was almost a scratch golfer and could talk international financing with the best of them. The people he worked with liked and respected him. He was a man's man."

"But, Ken was more than that. I knew him better than they did. Ken was a gourmet chef that spent two years in Paris learning his trade. With Ken, cooking was an art. Shopping for vegetables and meat was a science. He taught me to snap peas and stand a lamb chop on end to hold the juices inside. He showed me how to marinate an average piece of meat to make it tender and delicious. We talked about the art of presentation and the tricks restaurants used to make the food more appealing. He was my friend, and I will miss his tenderness."

After the service, at least five women sought Mary out to congratulate her on her eulogy. Only one person said, "Dave, nice job."

Mario suggested Fred's new Shells in New Port Richey for lunch. Fred would be there and they could mix a little business and pleasure. Bradford hoped to talk with Mario alone, but if necessary, he didn't mind talking in front of Fred. With Ken gone, Fred was Dave's new best friend.

Fred recommended the blackened grouper, and it was excellent. "Fred, it was so good that even Ken would have liked it," Mario quipped. They laughed at the obvious reference to Mary's speech.

"He was a pretty good cook," Dave said in defense of Mary. Did you know how many recipes he had in his head? Lots. Mary would ask him how to make a sauce just to see if he was conning us. They checked out."

"Yeah, Ken must have had a photographic memory," Mario added.

"I hope it didn't get him in trouble," Dave said thoughtfully. "I still would like to know what happened. He was at the top of the world when he came back from Zurich, and hours later he is dead."

"Speaking of Zurich, Dave, what is this idea you have about resolving the impasse. Don't worry about Fred, I tell him pretty much everything anyway."

Bradford made his pitch. "Mario, both you and the Zurich group want to buy out the other. Initially I thought we should try to reach an accommodation and try to make this partnership work, but I don't think that's possible anymore. Do you agree?"

"No, it won't work, Dave. We've burned too many bridges. I can tell you that my partners are pissed." _Bradford found it interesting that Mario avoided using Romano's name in front of Fred._

"Did your friend come through for you, Mario? Do you have the money to buy them out?"

"I'll have the money Saturday."

"Okay, the next problem is that unless both sides are in agreement, the other side can tie the projects up in court for years. Everyone's a loser, Agreed?" They both nodded.

"Here is my idea. Mario, you told me to bet $140 on Buzz Saturday, at 5 to 7 odds. If Buzz wins, you get $100. Do you still feel that Buzz will win? Don't answer that. Let's assume that Zurich will bet you even up that I will beat Buzz. Would you take the bet?"

"Even up? You know I would. We're friends Dave, but money has no friends. How much?"

"The whole project. Winner takes all."

After a few moments, Fred interjected, "are you saying the loser gets nothing for their share?"

"Good point, Fred, I exaggerated a little. The winner only wins the right to exercise their option to buy out the other party, at the price in my valuation. I get paid an equal sum either way so I do not have a financial stake in who wins or loses. I just want to win, for Ken."

"Has Sven agreed to bet on you?" Mario asked.

"I will ask him tonight. I wanted to ask you first."

"Okay, I'll do it, but I need to be paid by Monday if Buzz wins."

"Agreed, I'm having the legal papers drawn up as we speak. Their buyout will be conditional upon your receiving payment Saturday. Both of you will need to have wire transfer authorizations put in escrow, to be executed in the event that you win. And Mario, we are friends, but I still intend to win."

"Dave, for your sake, and Ken's memory, I wish you would. But I spoke to Buzz earlier and he says he is playing every day and hitting the ball good. Did you know he shot a 70 yesterday?"

"No, I didn't Mario. There are some things I would have preferred not to know," Bradford said as the group got up to leave.

"Okay, Fred thanks for the hospitality and great food. You have a gold mine here. By the way, I saw you talking with Gary Gagne last night. Did you bet on Buzz?"

"No, I bet $100 on you Dave. I want Mario's $140."

It was almost 3:00 when Mario dropped Bradford off at the office. Chris had left a message earlier saying the legal documents were ready and needed his blessing. Dave told Mario he would get the papers to him first thing in the morning, assuming Zurich agreed to their little wager.

Chris was there going over the documents with Dave's attorney, Mike Addison, and the lead attorney from the DEA. The DEA attorneys had done the work, but Mario and Sven had to think they came from Bradford. Addison also wanted to be sure that Bradford was protected.

"How do they look?" Bradford asked no one in particular.

"Dave, these guys do great work. It does what you want," Addison replied. "The winner of the golf match has the right to exercise the buyout provision in Paragraph 14 of your Zurich loan agreement. The money must be transferred Saturday or the contract is voided. Both parties are required to escrow their wire transfer instructions for execution immediately after the winner of the match is determined."

"What's my exposure? None, I hope."

"I don't see any downside for you. You get a nice commission either way. If Buzz and Mario win, it will just take a little longer. You would get less up front, but you also get a nice chunk of money from future broker commissions."

"Mike, let's change my payout to a flat $25M, win or lose. I want to be completely out of this mess after Saturday."

"Okay, consider it done."

"We are also changing the wording in a number of places to make it read less like a government contract," Mike added. "It would be a warning to an experienced attorney. We can have the revised contracts ready by first thing tomorrow morning."

"Are you available Friday and Saturday if needed? Their attorneys will probably want to talk with you."

"I'm yours, Dave. The DEA is paying me enough to make it worth my while. There is no charge to you."

"A free attorney, now that's an oxymoron," Dave joked.

"Can you get me a couple free tickets for the match?"

"Very funny, Mike."

"I like this restaurant, Mary, nice choice," Sven said as we walked into the Bonefish Grill. "It reminds me of a restaurant in Geneva."

"Why does Dave call it the Bonehead Grill?" Dag asked.

They laughed, and Mary told the story about the first time they had brought Ken here, and let Ken order the wine. "Ever since he calls it the Bonehead Grill because he learned not to let someone else order the wine when you are picking up the tab."

"I used to complain to Ken about it all the time, and he kept saying it was only a $45 bottle. I swear it was $60 or $70 because the tab was close to $200 for the three of us. Anyway, it's a good memory and one reason we chose this place. Besides, the food is great, and I'm buying. I'm also ordering the wine."

The dinner was delicious. The trout, salmon, sea bass and grouper; all were excellent and the sauces were phenomenal. Sven wasn't a drinker, so the other three shared a bottle of Kendall-Jackson Chardonnay. Dave limited himself to one glass.

After dinner, Bradford asked Sven if they could spend a few minutes talking business. He agreed, so Dave plowed right in.

"After Sunday's meeting in Cabo, I was hoping to figure out a way to convince the two of you that we should keep working together. I don't see that happening, do you?"

"No I don't, Dave. One of us has to take over. By the way, Dag and I went over your valuation and think it is fair. I'll pay that amount to Mario, even the $50M."

"Thanks, Sven. The next challenge is to find a way to determine who will buy out the other party, because if we don't, this project will be tied up in the courts for five years and everyone will lose. Agreed?"

Sven and Dag nodded, and Dave continued. "I have an idea. You're aware that I'm playing a two-day tournament for the Club Championship. That's why I couldn't get into Cabo until Saturday night."

"I'm aware of your tournament, Dave. Dag tells me you are a slight underdog."

"That's correct. The going odds are 7 to 5. Buzz is probably or four strokes better if we played straight up golf, but match play is an equalizer. I also will have an emotional edge if the match is close; Ken was my mentor and I don't intend to let him down."

Sven looked into Dave's eyes and liked what he saw. "This sounds interesting. What do you have in mind?"

"I want you to bet on me, Sven. If I win the match, you win the right to buy out Mario. If I lose, Mario has the right to buy you out. Mario has already agreed to back Buzz. The only condition Mario requested is that procedure be in place to wire transfer the money Saturday afternoon so that he doesn't lose his $40M deposit . That's it, winner takes all."

"Do you really think you can win?" Dag asked.

"I do. I promised Ken." Dave held his breath as he waited for Sven's decision. Sven leaned back in his chair and considered Dave's offer. He looked at Dave and got the feeling that if the match was close, Bradford would find a way to win – for Ken.

"I accept; winner takes all," Sven answered, "and let's hope you win. I assume you have some legal documents you need us to review. Email them to Dag and to my office this evening."

Bradford didn't wait. He called Mike on his cell and gave him Sven's email address and the address for Dag's portable computer. He turned to Sven.

"Excellent, you won't regret it. My attorney, Mike Addison, will be available this evening and tomorrow if you have any questions. I won't be available, I'm going to play some golf."

Bradford called Chris when they got home and left a message. "Chris, it's a go. Sven agreed to back me. Mike emailed the contracts to his Zurich office. Call me on my cell if you need me. I have a 9:00 tee time."

"I had a good time, Dave. How about you? You must be pleased that Sven agreed to back you."

"I had a good time too, Mary, I'm glad you were there. Yes, I am happy about Sven. It went better than I expected."

Almost too easy, Bradford thought before he fell asleep.

Friday

Practice Round

Bradford threw his $20 entry fee into the kitty and headed to the practice range. This was his last practice round before the match. He had played well Wednesday, and shot 77. Dave's goal today was 74, or better.

It promised to be a fun round. Dave was playing with three friends from the club. Bradford reflected briefly on how things had changed. Four months ago Dave's regular Friday foursome included Ken and Buzz.

Ken always told him that before a round you should treat practice time as a warm-up, not practice. "Don't work on something right before you play. If you need practice, do it after the round is over or on a day you're not playing." That's easy to say if you are a professional golfer who plays every day. Most club players only play two or three times a week and seldom get to the practice range. Dave had only hit a few irons when Gary told him he was wanted back in the clubhouse. What now, Dave thought.

"You're a captain, Dave. It's your turn to pick."

Today 44 players showed up for "the game". This meant Dave had one of the 11 lowest handicaps. The Friday game attracted "scratch" golfers from around the area, so this was quite a move up for him. Dave had started as a D-player when he first moved to Tampa. Dave picked second, which meant he was seeded tenth. Handicaps were listed for each player only to assist the captains in making their picks. Only the two best scores for each hole were counted. The $20 entry fee was paid out in four pieces; front nine, back nine, total and a $5 birdie pool.

Dave didn't pick anyone from his foursome. The added responsibility of being a captain was enough pressure. He just wanted to play his own ball and not worry about what someone else was shooting. His goal was to post a low score and let Buzz think about it overnight.

Bradford shot 83 and his team finished dead last. He couldn't help but notice that Buzz shot a 72 with four birdies. His team won the back nine, and tied overall. They split $330 plus whatever each person won on skins; so much for entering tomorrow's round with confidence. Maybe Buzz would be overconfident, he thought.

Dave's driver let him down all day and he never sank a putt longer than four feet. He thought of going to the practice range, but decided against it. He just didn't feel like practicing. Ken used to say that every golfer has bad days. Sometimes it's better to just walk away and forget them. Tomorrow is another day.

Chris and Mike were in a good mood when Bradford stopped in the office. The contracts were ready to be signed. Mario was on his way over and Sven was coming in around 4:00. The Zurich attorneys had requested a few minor changes, but nothing significant.

"How will the wire transfer instructions be handled? Who is the escrow agent?" Dave asked.

"Tom Larkin, a partner at Foley and Lardner, one of the largest law firms in Florida. Zurich and Mario have already wired the bank accounts and authorizations. Tom just received word that the accounts are authentic.

"How will this work Saturday?" Dave asked.

"We get together in at the club and execute the wire transfers by telephone. Larkin has provided both Mario and Sven a security code. As soon as we receive confirmation that the funds are transferred, we sign the papers. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes."

"How do I get paid?"

"Sven and Mario have both signed agreements to pay you a $25M commission as soon as they receive payment."

"Mike, do you really think the FBI will allow all that money to be forwarded out of Mario's account? Wouldn't they freeze the money?"

"I see what you are getting at, Dave. Let me see if I can arrange for your commission to be sent directly to your account."

Carlos used a pay telephone to dial the number he had been given. He heard the click of someone picking up, but nobody spoke. Carlos delivered his message. "The package will be delivered on schedule." The next sound he heard was a dial tone.

Romano turned to Mario. "The merchandise will be here. Is everything set on your end? This is a big shipment."

"Everything is ready," Mario replied. "The trucks will be there and the buyers are ready."

"I will personally handle the exchange. I don't want anything left to chance," Romano said as he poured himself a drink.

"I have done business with these buyers for three years. There won't be a problem."

"Do you still have those gambling markers from the grand opening? I think it's time we collected our IOU from Bradford," Romano said with a smile.

"I don't think we need them, but a little insurance won't hurt. I'll see that they are delivered tomorrow morning."

"Toast," Romano offered. "Tomorrow at this time we will be 100% owners of the best money laundering operation that money can buy." he said with a chuckle.

"Toast," Mario replied as they touched glasses. Mario couldn't remember ever having heard Romano laugh.

Saturday Morning

The Big Day

_Today is the day Bradford_ thought as he opened his eyes. Mary was just waking up and was greeted with a good morning kiss. Still naked after making wonderful love last night, they continued their intimacy. Joe Namath, prior to Super Bowl III, had destroyed the myth that sex before a big game was taboo. Joe believed it honed his senses and made him sharp. Bradford should be razor sharp today.

Mary prepared a special breakfast while Dave showered; pancakes, bacon and fried eggs. Dave usually didn't get this treatment unless the kids were hungry. At 7:30 AM on a Saturday, there was no chance you would see a teenager unless you checked the bedroom.

The couple had spent a quiet evening watching a pay for view movie, one of these overly promoted movies with big stars and little plot. Dave was amazed that big name stars like Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt accept roles in such bad movies. It had to be the money. Remember Waterworld? That one lasted about one month at the theatres before it hit the DVD market. Still, Dave and Mary had a nice evening, although they never got into the movie. Naturally, the kids loved it.

Mary gave Dave a kiss and wished him luck. "Do your best, honey. That's all you can do. Just play your own game and don't worry about anything else."

"You sound like Ken. Are you still planning on walking with me?"

"I would love to. Judy and Ginny are going to be your unofficial cheerleaders, silently of course."

"Good, just don't try to start the wave or anything like that. I'm not a proponent of noisy galleries."

"We'll be good, I promise," Mary said as she kissed him goodbye.

"I love you."

The practice range was nearly empty when Dave arrived an hour early for his 10:00 match. A few extra minutes on the range wouldn't hurt, and might help get rid of the butterflies. He had already stretched at home and done light calisthenics.

Starting with his P-Wedge Dave worked his way through his irons to his woods, hitting two or three balls with each club. He took his time and concentrated on maintaining a slow rhythm. Ken said if you hurry on the practice tee, you get too quick and lose tempo. "Take at least 30 seconds between each shot," he advised. "Otherwise, you are just hurting yourself." Yesterday the added pressure of being named captain had caused him to get out of his routine. He never felt comfortable.

Bradford finished with five drives down the middle and headed for the practice green. There was no doubt that he had to putt well today in order to win.

At 9:45 he was ready and headed to the clubhouse to relax and get some water. Buzz was inside talking with Mario and Kurt. He couldn't resist asking the server to send Buzz a couple beers. Buzz refused Dave's generosity.

"What if Buzz has a bad day, Mario?" Kurt asked as Buzz headed to the first tee. "Anything can happen in a 1-day tournament."

"It's a lock, Kurt. If Buzz is off, or the match is too close, we have a backup plan in place. We can't afford to take any chances. We can't lose this one."

Sven and Dag were sitting at a table across the room. "Do you really think that Dave can win, Sven?"

"Don't worry about it, Dag. I follow orders just like you. The worst that can happen is that Buzz wins and Mario will buy us out of this mess."

The DEA was too busy to come to the match. "Is everything set, Steve?"

"We have been waiting five years for this day. We're ready."

"Buzz, how are you amigo. It's been a long time."

Buzz' mouth fell open in surprise, but he knew who it was without turning around. "Jesus, it's been awhile. What have you been up to?" Buzz knew, but wanted to keep the conversation friendly, at least until he knew what Jesus had in mind.

"Same as always, Buzz; still working for our old employer. By the way, they said to say hi. In fact, they asked me to give you a couple pictures that you might find interesting. They are a little dark, but I can still tell it's you. Don't they bring back great memories? I especially like the one with you in your scuba gear. Don't you agree?"

It only took a quick glance to see the pictures were taken that fateful evening Buzz had tried to forget. The first two showed Buzz with the two bags of heroin they had stolen from Romano. Buzz was still in his wetsuit, but his mask was pulled back on his forehead. Other pictures showed Buzz in the forefront, and the debris from the explosion that had killed Diego. The pictures weren't proof of anything, but they could be embarrassing.

"These are nice pictures, Jesus, but who would want to see them? It's so difficult to tell where they were taken."

"Si, compadre, without the sound track they would just be pictures. But 'boom', the sound track captured everything. You were so upset; maybe a jury would go easy on you and only give you twenty years. Maybe I could be a character witness?"

Buzz wasn't sure there was a sound track, but he wouldn't bet against it. "Okay, I get the message. What do you want from me?"

"Nothing, amigo, we want nothing at all, although my employers have placed a small wager on the match today. It would make them happy if Bradford wins. They would be so happy that they promised to burn the pictures and destroy the tape; entiendo?"

Buzz didn't believe for a minute that they would destroy the pictures, but he had no choice. "I understand. Tell them we have a deal. And by the way, Jesus, don't call me amigo. We never were friends."

Buzz headed to the 1st tee with mixed emotions. He was playing the best golf of his life, but he knew what Romano would do to him if he won. The FBI already knew about his involvement, but it was Romano that he needed to worry about.

" _The hell with it," Buzz thought. "I'm not going to throw a match for anyone."_

### Book Three

### Club Championship

### Day Two – Showdown

Chapter 1,

Par 4 – 380 Yards

Nervous Again

A large amphibious plane lumbered slowly north towards Naples, Florida before turning east into the Everglades. The Seastar's top cruising speed was 266 MPH but today it was bucking a slight headwind and was carrying two people and 2,300 pounds of heroin. With an extra fuel tank, it had a maximum range of 600 miles; more than enough to drop deliver its cargo and return to the small airstrip in the Caribbean.

The flight controller in Miami noticed the change of course and notified his supervisor. "I'm tracking a Seastar that filed a flight plan for Naples, but just changed course and is heading east. Should I call Naples and ask them to follow up?"

"Don't worry about it, Chad. It's not unusual for the pilots of these seaplanes to change their mind and just drop in on any old lake that draws their attention. It's not like they need an airport to land."

The Seastar Amphibian was noted for its ability to land on a dime and the pilot had been warned that the landing area was tight. They cruised at about 300 feet until they finally spotted the smoke flares that they were looking for. A flyover confirmed the landing would be tricky, but not impossible.

The pilot came back around to turn upwind and landed the aircraft smoothly. Four men were waiting in a Tornado Airboat. Twenty minutes later the cargo was offloaded and the seaplane was back in the air heading to Naples. The Naples controller gave him clearance and reminded him to lower his wheels. The pilot was not offended. He knew the statistics. Most amphibian plane accidents were the result of pilots forgetting to lower their landing gear for dry landings.

The Tornado Air Boat had a 350 Cubic Inch Chevrolet engine. The 325 HP engine could reach a maximum speed of 60 MPH as it skimmed over the top of the water. Its shallow draft, maneuverability and large cargo area made it ideal for this operation.

It was only a 35-minute ride to the private dock where Sam and Ron waited with two, 20-ton semis already loaded with Florida navel oranges. Each truck had a concealed storage area that was quickly filled with the cargo from the seaplane. By 8:30 AM the trucks were on Alligator Alley heading west to Naples.

Sam called the cell phone number they had been given and reported their position to an answering machine. "Everything is going like clockwork," Sam reported as I-75 turned north towards Tampa where the cargo was to be delivered. "We should be in Tampa by noon. I'll call back in a couple hours to get the final location."

Sam hung up the phone and called Ron on the 2-way radio. "Let me know if you have any trouble, Ron, but I'm not planning to stop unless there is an emergency. We have a full tank and from the size of those crates, we are toting a lot of juice." Ron acknowledged and they each settled in for the three hour ride to Tampa.

Ron had not given any thought about the elderly couple at the gas station where they had stopped earlier. Ron was making sure both trucks had a full tank of gas before they met the seaplane while Sam visited the rest room. The man asked directions to the Keys and was so grateful for his help. Ron didn't notice the woman attach the small electrical device to the frame of Ron's truck.

While Dave and Buzz were preparing for golf, Steve Wilson and three other DEA agents followed the two trucks at a safe distance. The homing device was sending a clear signal.

As Bradford walked to the 1st tee he reflected on how much had changed in just seven days. It seemed like a year ago. Last week he only had to worry about remembering the lessons Ken had taught him about handling pressure, and hitting his drive into the fairway. Seven days later Ken was dead and buried, and he was on his own.

The grounds supervisor advised the players that the course was in great shape and the pin positions were set-up tough. Tees were back, greens were cut tight and the flags would be hard to get at. The back tees would give Buzz an advantage, but fast greens and difficult pin placements would reward good course management and patience. They would have to wait to see whom this favored.

Bradford was 1-up and had honors as a result of his birdie on the 18th hole last Saturday. There were large fairway bunkers on either side of the fairway about 240 yards. Dave's 3-wood drifted a little right but stopped about 15 yards short of the bunker. Buzz' drive split the bunkers perfectly and rolled almost to the 100-yard marker. The match was on.

Mary, Judy and Ginny were part of the small crowd of spectators that were going to follow the competition. A few rode carts, but most walked. Fred had a business meeting in the morning and would join the group as soon as he could get away. Bradford appreciated their support.

Bradford knew most of the 30 spectators. Most were club members. Some were for Dave; some for Buzz and a few others that just wanted to enjoy the competition. There were a couple men that he didn't know. Dave was glad that Chris and another DEA agent were keeping an eye on him.

Dave's drive had rolled into the short rough, 148 yards from the front pin placement. The green sloped front to back, making it difficult to stop a ball that landed on the putting surface, particularly coming out of the rough. Bradford decided to punch a low 7-iron and run it onto the green. It was better to be short of the hole than try to chip downhill from behind the green.

He made good contact, but didn't get the roll he wanted. The ball hit 20 feet short into the bank, and rolled only a few feet leaving it 15 feet short of the green. It was a guessing game and he had lost. They must have watered the aprons in front of the greens this morning.

Buzz was in perfect position at the 100-yard marker, leaving him only 90 yards to the pin. He wouldn't have any problem stopping the ball near the hole with a sand wedge or 60 degree pitching wedge. Buzz was taking a lot of time and Dave figured he was between clubs. Buzz had seen Dave's ball stop quickly and knew that he needed to carry his ball to the green. He chose sand wedge and made great contact, but carried 20 feet past the pin and did not spin back; a tough break.

Buzz' reaction was interesting. A week ago he would have complained about bad luck or being between clubs. Today he just put his club back in the bag and walked to the green. Buzz had come to play.

Dave's chip wasn't easy. He had too many options. The pin was only eight feet from the front of the green. Phil would probably use a 60-degree wedge, open up the face of the club, and carry the ball to the putting surface. That shot took courage and nerves of steel. Dave thought about putting the ball through the rough but decided that 15 feet of rough was too difficult to judge the speed. This wasn't a British open where the fairways are almost as fast as some greens. He decided to use 7-iron and chip the ball into the front bank and bounce it onto the green. The shot required both skill and a little luck, and he got both. He made good contact, too good. It might have rolled seven to eight feet past the hole, but hit the flag and dropped in for a lucky birdie. Dave shouted and so did Mary and most of the others watching.

Buzz didn't say a word, but just started lining up his putt. It was downhill and almost straight. He started it just off the right edge with good speed. His putt looked like it had missed right but the ball turned at the final instant as it lost speed, and dove into the cup. He had read the grain perfectly. Buzz picked his ball from the hole and headed to the 2nd tee. No blood.

Chapter 2

Par 4 – 430 Yards

Chris' Story

The second hole is a tough par four, dogleg right with two pot bunkers protecting the corner of the dogleg. Last week Buzz had tried to fly the bunkers but came up two feet short and ended up with bogey. Bradford wondered whether Buzz would play safe today.

A slight head wind made Dave's choice simple. He needed to hit driver just to get within 200 yards, 3-wood wasn't an option today. The hole fit Dave's eye because it called for left to right fade, his natural shot. Dave's drive was perfect.

Buzz considered trying to drive the bunkers again and probably recalled what happened last week. He chose 3-wood, and aimed for the center of the fairway. Even with the 3-wood, Buzz out drove Bradford by 10 yards. They were both a long way from the green, but in excellent shape. As Dave walked to his drive, he glanced over and caught Chris watching. She smiled and gave a thumbs up.

Tommy's parents were in the family room watching television when a car pulled into the driveway. The driver honked the horn twice. Seconds later Tommy was bounding down the steps from his room, "see you later Mom, Dad, that must be Larry."

"Where are you going, Tommy?" his mother shouted.

"One of the kids is having a birthday party and we're invited. It shouldn't be too late. I'll be home by 1:00. See ya."

"Okay, Tommy, make sure you call if you're going to be late or need a ride. We love you."

The parents returned to their television show, a rerun of "Mash," as the car screeched out of the driveway, Tommy's mother commented that in the morning she wanted to sit down with Tommy and talk about his friends and responsibilities. She wanted to know more about what her son was doing in the evenings. Tommy's father grunted his approval.

They had been asleep for several hours when were awakened by the ringing phone. It was the call that every parents dread. "Is this the Lewis residence? Are you the parents of Tommy Lewis?"

"Yes, is he all right? What happened?"

"This is Dr. Parker at University Hospital. I'm sorry, but I have some terrible news. Your son, Tommy, is dead."

The rest of the evening was a blur. They rushed up to the hospital hoping there was some mistake, but there wasn't. About 3 AM they made the call to Tommy's older sister, Chris, and told her the news. She was devastated.

Chris managed to catch a 7:30 AM flight from Boston to Chicago and then a commuter plane on to Milwaukee. She had not slept since receiving the phone call. She kept asking herself what went wrong. What could she have done differently? The siblings were close despite a ten year age difference. Tommy idolized his older sister and Chris adored Tommy. They would talk once or twice a week even after she went away to school. Chris believed Tommy would have confided in her if he had a problem with school or with a friend. It did not make sense that he died of a drug overdose as the doctor had suggested. If Tommy were doing drugs, she would have known.

Chris had been raised in a nice, middle class neighborhood in Brookfield, Wisconsin, a suburb just west of Milwaukee. She was blessed with good looks and intelligence and the ability to make friends. At Brookfield Central High School she had been class valedictorian and captain of the cheerleaders, an unusual combination. She chose the University of Wisconsin partly because it is only 70 miles from home and would allow her to see her family on weekends. She graduated with honors, Summa cum Laude, and earned a lucrative position in the international arbitrage department of a major brokerage house in Chicago. After three years, she was accepted into the Harvard MBA program. Now a year and a half later, she was six months from graduation with a lucrative Wall Street job already lined up. None of this seemed important.

Mom and dad were waiting as she got off the shuttle. She had offered to take a cab home but they wanted to see her as soon as possible. She embraced her mother and they cried for several minutes. Her dad looked like he had aged five years since she had seen him only three weeks ago. There were tears and hugs, but little comfort. They were all devastated.

Chris drove home and her parents told her what little they had found out. Tommy and his best friend, Larry, had gone to a party and apparently there were drugs. The police had received a 911 call about midnight but the ambulance was unable to resuscitate Tommy. He was dead on arrival at the hospital. They had not made any funeral arrangements other than to have the body taken to the Joeffery Funeral Parlor.

The next three days were tough for Chris and her parents. Friends and relatives stopped by offering their condolences. Sunday, Tommy's friend Larry explained what had happened. They had heard about the party from a couple of girls. They didn't know host but knew about half the kids there. Kids were smoking marijuana, but this wasn't unusual. Tommy had tried it a couple of times, but didn't like it. He may have had a drag or two at the party. He did have a couple beers and a glass of punch that was spiked with vodka, rum and who knows what. Larry thought that somebody spiked Tommy's drink because they hadn't taken any drugs; at least this was Larry's story. The punch was flushed down the toilet before the paramedics arrived.

The autopsy said Tommy ingested a small amount of heroin, which combined with a congenital heart condition that no one had been aware of, induced the seizure and caused his eventual death. His heart condition was something that he had been born with and would have been a problem later in his life. Combined with heroin, it had been fatal.

Chris stayed home another week before returning to Boston. She was only six months from graduating but her life had changed dramatically. She no longer had the same desire to join a Wall Street brokerage firm and make a ton of money. Chris was ready when the DEA campus recruiter presented her with an opportunity to get even.

Bradford was 180 yards to the pin and pulled his 5-wood. It might be too much club, but the pin was in the middle and there was no trouble behind the green. He made good contact and the ball landed 20 feet to the right of the pin and rolled to the back of the green. Buzz was only 165 from the green and chose 7-iron. The shot looked perfect until a gust of wind seemed to knock the ball down 20 feet short of the pin. Still, Buzz would have an opportunity to make birdie.

Bradford chipped with a 7-iron from just off the back of the green and ended up pin high, two feet right of the pin. He went ahead and finished off his par while Buzz was lining up his 20-foot birdie attempt. The putt looked good, but came up inches short. They headed for the 3rd tee with Bradford clinging to his one hole lead.

Chapter 3

#2 Par 4 - 360 Yards

Chris and Ken

The short par 4, third hole, dogleg left, was rated as the second easiest hole on the golf course. Bradford wasn't sure how they handicapped the various holes, but did know this hole gave everybody fits. Tall pine trees lined the left side of the fairway and blocked your view of the green until you reached the 220-yard mark where the fairway opened up. Anything short of 220 left you no shot at the green.

There was plenty of room to the right, although the rough had grown to about two inches making it difficult to reach the green if your ball landed in it. The hole was easy if you drove the 220 yards down the middle. Aren't they all?

Bradford decided to hit driver. The wind seemed to be picking up and was still in their face and 3-wood might not be enough club to get past the trees. As it turned out, he couldn't get past the dogleg with driver either. Ken had warned him about the tendency to overswing when the wind is in your face. "It's counterproductive!" A smooth, easy swing generates more distance than trying to overpower the ball.

Dave's drive was straight, but his body got out in front of his hands and he popped it up. The result looked more like it was made with a 7-iron than a driver. He doubted he had reached the corner of the dogleg where he could see the green.

Buzz didn't have the same problem; a 3-wood was all he needed to give him a short iron to this green. Surprisingly, he pushed the ball off the tee. It had plenty of distance, but disappeared into the heavy rough. Everything would depend upon the lie.

Chris' first two years with the DEA were routine. After an extensive three-month training period during which she graduated at the top of her school, she was assigned to a task force headed up by Steve Wilson. The unit was responsible for drug interdiction for the southern region that included Florida and most of the Caribbean Islands. They also worked closely with the FBI to uncover distribution channels and money laundering schemes, Steve's specialty.

They had been watching Mario for two years, trying to determine his role in Romano's organization. Their first big break came when they received the anonymous tip about a drug shipment coming into Naples. Not only did they recover the drugs, the phone call that Sam and Ron made to Mario provided the first real evidence of Mario's role in the heroin distribution ring. Chris had participated in this bust and several others during the first two years. Although exciting, it wasn't really what she was looking for. She was becoming somewhat disenchanted with the DEA. Tommy's death was still in the front of her mind and somehow she felt she was not making enough progress in avenging his senseless death.

Her break came when Mario invited Dave on the boat trip to the Bahamas. The DEA and FBI tried to figure out Dave's role in the operation and came up empty. They saw their opportunity when Bradford placed an advertisement in the newspaper looking for help in his mortgage company. Steve made a decision that would impact the lives of many people.

"Chris, are you ready for an undercover assignment?" Steve asked as he showed Chris the help-wanted ad. "I want you to apply for the job. It might just provide an inside source to Mario's organization. He told Chris what they knew about Mario and Bradford."

Chris jumped at the opportunity. "I'm your girl." It turned out to be an excellent decision.

Bradford's fears were confirmed when he reached his drive. Maybe Tiger could reach the green by hooking a shot around the corner of the dogleg, but he wasn't Tiger Woods. Ken and Dave had numerous discussions about the need to take your poison and move on to the next shot. His only option was to chip the ball forward 30 yards to get a look at the green.

Buzz also had a problem; the lie was horrible and it would take all of his strength to reach the green. Last week he would have cussed up a storm. This week was different. Rather than complaining and trying to hit an impossible shot, he calmly took a pitching wedge and dug it out of the rough and advanced it 100 yards, with a good chance of getting up and down for par. This was a new Buzz today.

Dave hit 8-iron from 140 yards and came up short right, stopping on the fringe. Buzz had only 40 yards to the pin, but his pitch rolled 12 feet past. Both players two putted for bogeys. Bradford was still one up.

Chris and Ken soon developed an excellent working relationship. Ken was about a dozen years older than Chris and more experienced in the financial markets. He was also one of the few men that Chris had met that was as smart as she. They made a good team.

Their affair started during their second trip to Zurich. They had just met with Sven and his Board and received confirmation of funding for the next phase of the project. They had decided to meet Dag for golf in Lucerne and then spend a few days exploring Switzerland. Three hours after the meeting broke up they arrived at the Romantik Wilden Mann Hotel. Dag pulled up behind them as the porter took their luggage.

Dag and Ken had a 2:30 tee time at the Lucerne Golf Club leaving Chris to check in and explore the city. The five hours passed quickly.

"Dag, that's as nice a golf course as I have ever played. The views are breathtaking. I just wish I could have played better," Ken said as Dag pulled up to the hotel. "The hills and scenery reminded me a little of the golf courses in North Carolina where I grew up. Florida courses are flat and boring compared to this."

"A 78 isn't anything to complain about, Ken. Here we are. Are you sure you don't want me to join you for dinner?"

They both laughed. Ken knew he was kidding and needed to get back to his family, and Ken was tempted to call his bluff.

"That's okay Dag; I won't need a chaperone. We have a strict rule in our company about not dating the people you work with, and you know I never break the rules."

"There are always exceptions to the rules," Dag said over his shoulder as he drove away.

Ken found out it wasn't his decision. Rather than two rooms, Chris had booked a 1-bedroom suite. There was a bucket of various lagers on ice as well as a bottle of Kendall-Jackson, and a note that said Chris was shopping and would be back about six. Ken grabbed a beer and headed for the shower.

Chris came back in high spirits and said the suite was all they had available. Ken was on his third lager and was a little confused. They had been exchanging small talk for over an hour and Chris was sending out mixed signals.

She poured another glass of KJ and headed for the bedroom. "Excuse me for a minute, Ken. I bought you a little something this afternoon." Ten minutes later Chris was back, modeling a shear, yellow negligee. He had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

"Chris, you are more beautiful than I could imagine. You look absolutely stunning."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

After two hours of making love, talking, and making love again, they ordered room service. Their personal relationship had begun.

They checked out of the hotel in the morning and took a train to the St Moritz Ski Resort in Eastern Switzerland and checked into the Kempinski Grand Hotel. Built in 1366, the Kempinski was an incredible combination of luxury, ambiance and beauty, and adjacent to the main ski lift to St. Moritz Bad. If golf were compared to skiing, Chris was a two handicap and Ken was a 15, but it didn't matter. They spent three wonderful days on the hills and between the sheets, with an occasional dinner and sauna mixed in. Ken had never felt like this about a woman before.

They kept their relationship secret by being discreet, particularly when they were in the office or in Tampa. Chris and Ken had begun as friends and progressed to lovers. She looked forward to their time together and was looking forward to that fatal weekend in Cabo San Lucas. They had booked adjoining rooms, and had planned to spend the night together.

She had been very tired that night and fell asleep after saying goodbye to Kurt and Pedro. She understood Ken's desire to unwind before coming to bed. It was obvious that something else had happened in Zurich that was bothering him. He would talk about when he was ready.

Chris had wished a thousand times that she would have stayed with him in the restaurant that evening. She couldn't help but wonder whether she was responsible for his death. Maybe somebody had found out about her role with the DEA. To her knowledge, he didn't know, although it's always possible that he had somehow found out. Ken was also highly suspicious of the Swiss funding group. He didn't accept their explanation about private investors and tried several times to identify the source of their funds. Maybe he had gotten too close to the truth? She didn't accept Sven's statement that Ken was trying to extort funds from the Swiss group. This made her even more suspicious.

Ginny had taken her to the side at the funeral and said how sorry she was about her loss. Chris must have shown surprise because Ginny felt obligated to explain.

"Fred told me he had run into the two of you one evening in Zurich as you were coming out of the restaurant," Ginny explained. "He asked me not to tell anybody and I won't, but I wanted to let you know that if there is anything Fred and I can do for you, just let us know. We thought a lot of Ken and we think a lot of you, too."

Somehow it made Chris feel better to know that someone else knew that she had cared deeply for Ken.

Chapter 4

Par 3 - 185 Yards

The Miami Prosecutor

The wind picked up and was at their backs. Bradford used a 5-wood last Saturday but decided on 4-iron today. He struck the shot perfectly and watched it frame the pin. For a moment he thought it was in. Instead, it grazed the pin and rolled a few feet past. It was a great shot and even Buzz congratulated him. Bradford had never had a hole in one.

Buzz hit 6-iron, still too much club considering the tail wind. His shot was a little right and rolled to the back of the green. Buzz knew he had made a mental error.

The boy watched as his brother crossed the street and entered the 7-11. He didn't want to be there but his brother had insisted. Somebody had to watch the street while he robbed the store. The boy clutched the whistle that he would blow if anybody approached; one whistle meant a customer, two whistles signaled the police.

It was 2 AM and nobody was on the streets. His brother had been in the store almost 10 minutes when the first shot rang out, followed quickly by two more. The boy waited but his brother didn't come out. The boy was still trying to garner enough courage to go inside, when he heard the police sirens. He ran.

Marty walked across the stage to receive his diploma from Miami Law School. His parents were in the audience and Marty knew how proud they were and the sacrifices they had made to get him there. There had been rough times while he grew up, but he had made it. Monday he would start his first day as Assistant District Attorney.

His one regret was that his older brother could not be there to see him graduate. His brother recovered from his gunshot wound, but was serving a life sentence for killing the store clerk during that robbery 10 years ago. Marty had been the lookout. His brother never told anybody, not even their parents. The only person that knew was Bill, his best friend since childhood. Bill was the only person that still called him Marty.

Joe Martinez' career in the DA's office progressed rapidly. He had a unique combination of brains, good looks and street smarts. Juries and judges liked him. He hadn't lost a case in three years. If he didn't think he could win, he would plea bargain and claim victory. He was soon given the tough, high profile cases and he started to specialize in smuggling and drug trafficking.

In his second year, Martinez prosecuted Diego Raphael, a small time smuggler who had been busted by the DEA for attempting to smuggle 50 pounds of cocaine into Miami by boat. Martinez had all the evidence he needed for a conviction, but settled for a plea to possession rather than trafficking. In turn, Martinez obtained a snitch inside one of the major Caribbean drug trafficking cartels. This source of information would prove useful in the future.

Martinez received his big break at the end of his third year. A major drug lord in Mexico had been indicted and captured by the Mexican army. He was extradited to the United States for trial. It was the type of high profile case that could launch a political career and Martinez was given the opportunity to prosecute.

Dave's shot was closer than it appeared from the tee box. He had less than three feet for his birdie. It wasn't a tap in, but makeable. Buzz' birdie attempt from the back of the green was a good one, but missed narrowly on the right and rolled two feet past. He made the comeback putt and it was up to Bradford. He calmly rolled in the 3-foot putt for birdie and went two up with 14 holes to play.

Chapter 5

Par 4 - 395 Yards

Manufactured Evidence

Buzz' drive last week had cleared the trees and bunkers, rolling to within 20 yards of the green. Buzz failed to get up and down for his birdie and had settled for par. The wind was directly behind the players and Bradford knew Buzz would be going all out, particularly being two down. However, Bradford had no choice but to lay up. There was no way he could carry 260 yards to clear the bunker. He needed more than a 20 MPH wind; he needed a tornado. Dave's 3-wood stopped 20 yards short of the bunker in perfect position.

Buzz' drive was a carbon copy of last week's. This time the tail wind was a little bit stronger. His drive carried the bunker and jumped off the down slope towards the green. It came to rest on the front edge of the green approximately 25 feet short of the pin. Buzz would be putting for eagle.

Bradford was still 155 yards from the pin. Normally this would be a 7-iron, but with the wind at his back, he opted to hit a high 8-iron and let the wind carry the ball to the green. He was shocked when the ball landed pin high, took one giant bounce and rolled off the back of the green. He didn't hit 8-irons that far. The wind was gusting and the greens were getting firm. "A mental mistake," Bradford thought.

"Just learn your lesson and then forget about it," Ken would say. "It's over. You can't do anything about it now."

Dave was 10 yards over the green and used pitching wedge to get within 15 feet. He marked his ball and watched Buzz line up his eagle putt. Club golfers don't get that many eagle opportunities, particularly on par 4s. Dave could tell Buzz wanted this putt badly even though a two putt would give him a birdie and a win. Buzz' putt looked good until the last moment when it curled left and caught the edge of the cup. The putt ended up two feet behind the hole, and Bradford conceded for selfish reasons. He didn't want Buzz to mark and force him to make his15-foot par putt. He wanted Buzz to think he needed birdies to win holes.

That's one reason why match play scores are typically lower than normal. Once Bradford conceded Buzz' putt, his putt also was good. His scorecard showed a four even though there was a strong likelihood that he would have missed the par putt.

Bradford was still one up as they headed for the 6th tee. Buzz had the honors and momentum. He was hitting the ball well and playing smart golf. Dave knew that he had his work cut out for him today.

The marksman had been waiting three nights to get a clean shot. Patience was his strong suit. It was like sitting in a deer blind waiting for a buck or doe to appear. At 300 yards, he couldn't miss. He had killed from much further during the war. When the target finally appeared at the window he was ready, and the case Joe Martinez had carefully crafted over the past six months went up in a puff of smoke. The key prosecution witness was dead.

Martinez was devastated. He knew he could not get a conviction without an eyewitness, someone to look the jury in the eye and point an accusing finger at the defendant. His boss, the District Attorney, told him he had no choice but to drop the charges and accept defeat. They would make the announcement next week. Martinez pleaded for more time, but to no avail.

Martinez closed his office door and brooded for several hours privately. He finally called his friend, Bill, and asked to meet in an hour at a local restaurant. Martinez had an idea and would need Bill's assistance.

"Marty, how are you doing? I heard about the shooting and the loss of your star witness. Do you still have a case?"

"I'm not sure, but I have an idea I want to bounce off you. "

"Shoot," he replied with a half smile. Martinez ignored his friend's attempt at levity.

"Remember that kid, Frankie, that we grew up with; the little guy that lived a couple houses down from Bennie? Remember him?"

"The name sounds familiar. If it's the kid I'm thinking of, I didn't know him well at all. He was sort of a con man wasn't he; always trying to sell you something or put a deal together. Gee, I haven't seen him since high school."

"That's the guy. My brother says that he is now in Fulton serving 10-20 years for selling drugs."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"Bill, here's my idea. Tell me if you think it might work."

The next day Bill flew to Atlanta with a proposition for Martinez' brother. Two days later, the District Attorney's office received a telephone call from an inmate in Fulton County Jail in Atlanta. They had a witness that would testify he had personally witnessed several killings done by the drug lord who was on trial. The witness would testify in exchange for commutation of the remainder of his sentence.

At trial, the defense counsel tried to claim Frankie was not even part of the drug ring and couldn't have any personal knowledge about his client. Frankie was steadfast. He seemed to have all the inside knowledge of someone who had worked within the cartel. He knew names, places and methods of shipment. Most importantly, the jury believed him. He had looked them straight in the eye when testifying and appeared sincere. The verdict came in quickly. Guilty as charged.

Martinez' career was on its way. Within two years he won several more high profile convictions and was being mentioned as a candidate for State Attorney General.

Chapter 6

Par 5 - 525 Yards

Political Ambitions

The 6th hole is a par 5, reachable in two for both players, particularly with the strong tailwind. Buzz was pumped and cracked a long drive down the middle. He would be going for the green in two with an iron. Bradford had only a 50-50 chance to reach the green, and decided to give it a go. He would need a good drive. The result was predictable. Dave shifted his weight much too early and ended up blocking the ball far to the right. He was fortunate it stayed in bounds. Going for the green was no longer an option. He had a decent lie and hit 5-iron to the center of the fairway.

Buzz' drive was longer than the drive he had hit the previous week. He only had 220 yards to the green with a back pin placement. Trees protected the left side of the green which was perfect for Buzz' long draw. He hit a low 4-iron that landed 25 yards in front of the green and rolled to within 30 feet of the pin. He would have another eagle putt.

"Play your own game, Ken used to say. You can't do anything about your opponent hitting a great shot. All you can do is play within yourself." Dave had 120 yards to the center of the green and about 130 yards to the pin. He chose 9-iron which hit the front of the green and stopped quickly, leaving him a 25-foot uphill putt for birdie. Buzz would putt first.

Buzz eyed his second consecutive eagle putt, this one of approximately 30 feet with a strong left to right break. It wasn't the kind of putt you would expect to make, but three or four yards from the pin they all knew it had a chance. Buzz was doing his best Tiger Woods imitation, and when it dropped, he pointed down at the hole. Dave's only consolation was that the eagle made his birdie putt good. It was his third birdie on the front nine, but the match was all square. Buzz was playing fabulous golf.

The eagle soared majestically over the edge of the Florida Everglades before it swooped down to snatch a rodent that was a trifle slow. This would be a nice dinner for the two eaglets waiting in the nest at the top of the tall pine tree.

Bam!

"Nice shot." The men watched as majestic symbol of American freedom tumbled to the ground.

Within minutes the two men felled the tree, removed the nest and fed the eaglets to the waiting alligators. The last obstacle to the planned golf resort and community development was gone. Two months later zoning approval was obtained and the project commenced.

Bill and Marty had grown up together. They were inseparable as kids. Bill was the planner and Marty was the doer, and they made a great team. They were college roommates at the University of Florida and stayed in close touch after graduation. Marty went on to law school and eventually the District Attorney's office while Bill was making money in real estate. He was president of a resort and golf course development company that owned and managed several upscale developments in the southern Florida area. Family contacts helped him get started, but he did the rest himself. Bill knew the art of putting a deal together. It was no coincidence that three key people in his firm had previously worked for the Zoning Commission or the office regulating real estate development.

Bill's initial project, a mixed-use development with homes, condominiums, retail and a 36-hole golf course, sold out in less than a year. He made $12M on that project.

The land was obtained at an extremely low price because it was swamp land owned by the Federal Government. Conservationists believed the land was part of the Florida National Everglades and were shocked when it was sold even though it was still designated as "wetlands" and could not be developed. Two years after Bill had purchased the land the swamp inexplicably dried, and Bill obtained zoning approval for his development. No one discovered the small dams placed within the Everglades that diverted the water flow. The Seminole Indians and conservationists had lost another battle to the greed of the white man.

Bill and Marty kept in touch since college and the favor Bill did for Marty relating to the major drug case was just one example of their friendship. Bill had many contacts in Florida and was a major contributor to the local Republican Party, particularly candidates that supported growth and development, albeit sometimes at the expense of the environment.

Bill methodically developed a wide network of business and political contacts. His organizational skills were a perfect complement to Marty's personal charisma and charm. Bill became Marty's unofficial campaign chairman, several years before there was any campaign. Initially the solicitations and support were obtained through low-key conversations at cocktail parties, golf outings, and the like. Businessmen began to think of Marty as a comer and started making small contributions to a war chest. Offshore bank accounts were established in the Bahamas to funnel campaign contributions from foreign supporters such as Romano. When Marty decided it was time to make a run at political office, Bill was ready.

Chapter 7

Par 4, 415 Yards

Another Campaign Contribution

The 7th is a slight dogleg right with bunkers protecting the right side of the fairway requiring a 260 tee shot. The wind was behind them, and Buzz decided to go for it. If he made it, he would only have a short wedge into the green. His drive was almost a carbon copy of the drive he had hit a week earlier. He lost it right and ended up in the heavy rough. Dave's long 3-wood took the bunkers out of play and he ended up in perfect position.

Six months after the lost heroin shipment, Mario and Romano resumed operations. Romano needed an outlet for his raw product, and they both needed the money. Juan and Diego were presumed dead, although the bodies were never found. The source of the leak was never identified.

They started again with tight security and a new plan for getting their product into the United States. This was the 15th shipment, and the third time that John and Edna Farmington assisted.

The 65-foot yacht cruised slowly up the Gulf of Mexico past Sanibel Island and the Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge located on the narrow strip of land connecting Sanibel to Captiva Island, before turning east past South Seas Resort which occupied 80 acres on the eastern tip of Captiva. This was a vacationer's paradise: acres of lush foliage, tropical birds and a seemingly endless supply of seashells.

Despite pressure from developers and sky rocketing land values, the two islands have maintained a pristine environment. With the exception of a single Dairy Queen that has been grandfathered in, there is not a MacDonald's, Burger King, Chili's or other chain-restaurant on the islands. There are no JC Penney's, Sears, Wal-Mart's. The restaurants and shoppe's are unique to the islands. It's not cheap, but it's real. Captiva Island is as close to Eden as you can get, but with indoor plumbing. It's the best that Florida has to offer.

The yacht's destination was the Tween Waters Inn, located on a narrow strip of land between the Gulf of Mexico and Pine Island Sound, just west of the South Seas Resort. The resort is an ideal blend of old and new and offers scenic views of both bodies of water. John and Edna Farmington had been coming here for 30 years. John had proposed to Edna, exactly 30 years ago tomorrow, following one of the most beautiful sunsets Edna could remember. They looked forward to spending a couple nights on shore, cocktails at the Crow's Nest, dinner at The Old Captiva House and more breathtaking sunsets.

The Farmington could afford it. They were being paid handsomely for delivering the yacht to the American owners in Fort Meyers; $10,000 plus expenses, to pick up the boat in Freeport, Bahamas and deliver it within five days. They had two more days and were only a few hours from their destination. They told the owners they were going to relax and enjoy themselves. The owners agreed.

John and Edna locked the yacht and took a small johnboat ashore, and checked into their special cabin overlooking the gulf. It was the Lindbergh suite, remodeled authentically to capture the essence of the period when Charles Lindbergh stayed at the Tween Waters Inn in 1955 on his way to a National Aviation Show in Miami; antique furniture, an old fashioned bathtub with lion-paw feet and rotary telephones. Edna suggested they try out the 4-poster bed before dinner.

The evening was perfect, even better than they could have hoped. At sunset, almost everyone including many of the locals grabbed their cocktails and went down to the beach to enjoy the sunset. John and Edna had been doing this for 30 years and were seldom disappointed. Tonight's sunset was especially brilliant. There were a few clouds on the horizon that reflected the sun's rays and 30 seconds after the sun seemingly plunged into the gulf, there was a second sunset as the clouds on the horizon were illuminated. It was a phenomenon of which they never tired.

By 11:00 PM late that night they were sound asleep in the 4-poster bed after making love once again. It had been a perfect evening. While they slept, a small boat approached their yacht and entered the cabin with a second set of keys. The intruders quickly found the trapdoor located in the closet and entered the secret compartment below. An hour later, ten million dollars of heroin was off-loaded to the small boat and the intruders were gone. $30M of heroin was left untouched.

John and Edna spent the following day enjoying the beauty of this remote island. They rented bicycles and pedaled along the narrow roads to the Ding Darling nature reserve on the causeway connecting Captiva Island to Sanibel. They walked through the upscale Shoppe's in Periwinkle Circle and looked for sand dollars along the gulf beach. In the evening they enjoyed another perfect sunset and dined at the Bubble Room. They made love again before falling asleep by 10 PM. It had been another perfect day.

Their fantasy world crumbled at 2:00 AM. "Open up, this is the FBI." There was a loud pounding on their door and lights shining into their beautiful cabin. John opened the door and was almost run over by three men with flashlights that illuminated the guns in their hands. "John and Edna Farmington, you are under arrest for smuggling drugs into the United States."

John and Edna were in a state of shock and hugged each other as the DEA agents read them their rights; "You have a right to remain silent; anything you say...." Edna had always feared that their arrangement with the boat owners was too good to be true.

The next afternoon Mario received a call from Sam. "Mario, we've been waiting all day - the boat has not arrived. The front desk clerk at the Tween Waters Inn said there was a drug bust last night and two guests were arrested. Have you heard anything?"

"I just heard. The DEA just made an announcement that they had seized another drug shipment. Get over here fast. We need to talk."

Variations of this same plan had worked perfectly for the last 12 months; fifteen shipments totaling over $500M without a hitch - now this. What happened? Mario had no idea what could have gone wrong. He did know that another $40M shipment was lost and Romano would be pissed. His anger grew as he slowly dialed the number.

At the same time, Jack Mathews, DEA Florida Bureau Chief, was congratulating Steve Wilson on a job well done. "Steve, great job, keep up the good work. By the way, who tipped you off?"

"Thanks, Jack. I'm not sure who gave us the lead. Our Miami office got a phone call late yesterday telling us we would find there was a shipment of heroin in a yacht anchored at Captiva Island. The caller even told us about the hidden trapdoor. We just got lucky."

"Luck or no, this could be the break we have been waiting for. There is obviously someone on the inside that has an axe to grind with the drug cartel," Jack concluded.

" _I hope they live long enough to keep the information coming," Steve thought._

In Tallahassee, Joe Martinez was entering the TV studio where he would record the spot-ads that would be shown across Florida in the final two weeks of his campaign for Governor of Florida.

Buzz was still looking for his ball in the heavy rough while Bradford hit 5-iron to the front of the green, leaving him a 25-foot birdie putt. Buzz finally found his ball embedded in the front of a small pampas bush. He wasn't happy. He was only 40 yards from the green, but couldn't get a club on the ball. His only choice was to take an unplayable lie and drop two club lengths from where the ball had entered the bush, no closer to the hole. His 3rd shot buried in a greenside bunker. After two great holes, the golf gods took their revenge.

Buzz was still away and blasted his 4th shot to within 15 feet. Bradford only needed to 2-putt for the win, which he did. He was back to one up, heading to the 8th tee.

Chapter 8

Par 3 - 210 Yards

The Chairman of the Board

The par 3 eighth is a beautiful 210-yard hole to a small green surrounded by hazards. Dave had birdied the hole last week with a 5-iron.

Today the pin was on the back tier and the wind was slightly in the player's face. Dave flushed a 4-iron but unfortunately, the wind gusted just as he struck the ball. His ball hit the front of the green, but was a long way from the cup. Par would be tough.

Buzz noticed how the wind had impacted Dave's ball and decided on 6-iron. Last week he had made a point of letting everyone know he had needed only an 8-iron. His shot was right of the pin but on the back tier, leaving him a makeable12-foot birdie putt.

As we walked to the green, Buzz came along side Dave and told him he was playing good golf. "Your game keeps on improving. Ken would be proud of you."

" _Where did this come from?" Dave thought._ " _Buzz hadn't said a word to him all day. What's gotten into him?"_

Switzerland is a beautiful country in the springtime. The snow is still on the Alps and skiers are taking advantage of the vestiges of winter. The ice on the lakes is melted and the waterways are filled with sailboats. The land is lush.

Zurich is about money, not scenery. They are the bankers of the world. The last two years was not a good time for Sven and his partners. As money managers, their sole responsibility was to make a good rate of return for their investors. The European economy sagged and overseas investments became more difficult, particularly in the United States. Since 9/11 and passage of the Patriot Act, investors are required to identify their investment sources. Sven wasn't sure where some of the money came from, but he had suspicions. It was not all "pension fund money" as his Board Chairman suggested. Deposits ranging from $10M to $50M regularly showed up from untraceable bank accounts in the Bahamas and West Indies. It wasn't too difficult to guess the likely source of these deposits.

The Chairman of the Executive Committee, known simply as J.R., was due in later today to discuss new investment strategies. Not even Sven knew his real name. Sven was apprehensive. He knew that unless they improved their return to the investors, he would be out of a job. His investments had earned less than 10% over the past two years. Worse, he currently had over $1.5 Billion of funds in short term bonds earning a paltry 3% interest. He needed to invest this money soon.

"Here is what we are going to do, Sven," J.R. explained. The committee had discussed many investment strategies and had narrowed their options to three. They had just completed their presentation of the strengths and weaknesses of each. Sven had tried to get a reading but J.R.'s face remained impassive.

"We are going to invest in real estate, primarily in North America; hotels, casinos, golf courses, marinas and so forth. I'm talking four and 5-star properties. This is along the lines of your third option, but I want to go a step farther. I want equity participation. Any questions?"

After a few moments, one of the committee members summoned the courage to ask a question that was on everyone's minds. "We can't just start buying properties under our own name, can we? We are investment bankers. It would raise questions that we might not be able to answer."

"Good point, Johan, I'm glad you asked. We are going to do it in steps. In a few days Sven will receive a request to finance several projects in North America. The first project is a hotel and casino in Mexico. We will lend them the money at a nice interest rate, let's say 6%, but also insist on a stake in the profits, let's say 25%. Not ownership, just a percent of profits. This will keep us under the radar. We also will stipulate that if certain performance criteria are not met, we will have an option to receive immediate payment or we have the right to foreclose and assume title. That's how we will get the equity participation. What do you think Sven?"

Sven thought a moment before he replied. J.R. had made his decision. It would be stupid not to jump on the bandwagon before he was left behind. "I like it, J.R. Let someone else take the risk. If it works, we get the benefits. If it doesn't, 6% interest is still twice what our investments are currently making. The key will be to eventually get control of the projects. That's where the money is."

Johan piped in again. "Doesn't it depend upon the project? If they are bad projects, we will end up owning projects worth nothing."

"These are quality projects. I have inside sources that assure me that they can't miss. I can also assure you that our participation will be filtered through a middleman that will have no clue about what they are getting into. Trust me on this." J.R. looked at Sven and gave the signal to cut the meeting short.

"Okay, if there are no more questions, let's adjourn. Plan on meeting again after we have received the call and are ready to sign the contracts."

The next committee meeting was two weeks later when Dave Bradford, Ken Reid and Chris Lewis came to Zurich and made their request, just as JR had predicted.

Dave had 40 feet with 10 feet of right to left break. Judging the speed was even more difficult. It was into the grain and would break towards the water. Not surprisingly, the putt came up four feet short. Buzz' birdie attempt was inches short and he tapped in for his par.

Bradford spent a long time over his par putt. It was slightly right to left and fairly slow. Standing below the cup, he could see the shine of the grass growing towards him. The grain would accentuate the right to left break. He played the putt an extra ball to the right and watched it die into the top of the cup.

The Chairman called another meeting the week before the scheduled meeting in Cabo San Lucas. Ken Reid was due in Wednesday and J.R. wanted to be ready. He had stayed in Lucerne to avoid the possibility of a chance meeting with the Americans. Friday, after the Board meeting, Dagfin drove J.R. to the airport. Ken's flight had departed an hour earlier. "Did Ken find the information we wanted him to?" J.R. asked.

"Yes he did. He says he has a friend that can help him trace the numbers."

"Excellent. You did a nice job, Dag, and you will be rewarded. Now we just need to follow-up in Cabo."

They pulled up to the Delta terminal and Dag got out to help J.R. with his luggage. As they were shaking hands goodbye, J.R. and Dag saw a man at the ticket counter turn away.

"Did he see us?" J.R. asked.

"I think he did, J.R. and I'm pretty sure he took a picture. This could ruin everything."

"No, it won't, I'll take care of it." " _Just when things were going so well, this had to happen," he thought, with regret, as he envisioned what he had to do. Ken was his friend."_

Chapter 9

Par 5 - 525 Yards

Kidnapped

The Swiss group met again early Saturday morning in Tampa. J.R. presided over the meeting. "Gentlemen, everyone here must understand the importance of this match. Bradford must win, so there can't be any slipups. The contingency plan will go into effect if the match is too close to call after eight holes. I'll give the signal. Are there any questions? Do you all know what to do?"

There were no questions.

While the Swiss were meeting, Bill and Marty were discussing campaign strategy and lack of funds. "We are in a dead heat, Bill, and almost out of money. The $10M you found for the last ad campaign is almost gone. Any suggestions?

"Actually, I do, Marty. The only problem is that it might cause a mutual friend of ours some problems. Without getting into any details, what's your position on this?"

"Do what you have to do; we can always make it right after I'm elected."

Twenty minutes later Bill made a call to Mario and asked if he wanted to purchase an insurance policy. A $5M contribution to Marty's campaign would guarantee Buzz victory.

"It's a small price to pay, Bill. Are you sure you can deliver?"

"I'm sure, Mario. This is what I have in mind."

"Let's do it. I don't like it either, but I need Buzz to win. You'll have the money Monday."

Bill made one more call to someone that he had used for several dirty jobs over the past few years. "It's a go."

"Si, amigo. You can count on me."

Bradford was one up as they headed to the Par 5, 525-yard 9th. There was a tailwind so Bradford decided to hit driver rather than lay up short of the fairway bunker. He knew Buzz could reach this green in two and he would need a birdie to halve the hole

Bradford took a long, slow backswing and concentrated on pivoting over his left leg to create torque and power. He was determined not to block the ball right, but he overcompensated. The result was an ugly duck-hook, his worst drive of the day. There is nothing but trouble left of the fairway, but Dave got lucky and the ball stopped in the rough three feet short of the trees. With a decent lie, he would still be able to reach the green in three. He was still alive.

Buzz didn't need his driver. He hit a hard 3-wood that caught the tail wind and sailed across the left edge of the bunker to the blue, 200 yard marker. He was in perfect position to go at the green in two.

Dave's lie was not good. It was nestled down in 3-inch grass and was slightly below his feet, the kind of shot that was easy to shank. He considered using his "Ginty", the forerunner to today's hybrids. The two grooves on the bottom made it easier to cut through the rough. A perfect shot would still leave him 150 yards from the green so Dave decided to take his medicine and punched out with an 8-iron, leaving him an 175 yards. He was still in the hole, but just barely.

Buzz' drive was perfect. He only had 195 to carry the creek and 200 to the pin, an easy 4-iron. No one was more surprised than Dave when he hit the ball 178 yards. The ball caught the wood pilings protecting the green and fell back into the water. Buzz threw his club down in disgust. Bradford was back in the hole with a good chance to go 2-up at the turn.

Dave's thinking changed completely when Buzz' ball hit the water. Par would force Buzz to get up and down from 40-yards, not an easy job on any hole, particularly after you just dumped a ball in the water. He chose a 4-wood. It was a little too much club, but he wanted no part of the water. He ended up on the back of the green, almost 30-feet from the front pin with a good chance to make par.

The pressure was on Buzz and he responded. He flew a sand wedge almost to the pin and watched as it took one bounce and stopped inches from the hole. Bradford conceded the par and went about his business. With the added pressure, Dave's 30-footer seemed more like 50 feet and he was happy when his long birdie putt stopped a foot from the hole. Buzz conceded and the players headed for the clubhouse. Bradford was 1-up with nine holes to go.

Chris caught up with Dave as he was entering the clubhouse. "Nice playing, Dave, keep it up."

"Thanks. By the way, did you see where Mary went? She was with us until the eighth tee and then disappeared."

"One of the kids called and needed a ride somewhere. She'll catch up to us on the back nine. She told me to wish you luck."

"Thanks, Chris," Dave said as he entered the clubhouse. "By the way, I appreciate your keeping tabs on me, but if you don't mind, you might want to wait here. The members don't appreciate women in the men's locker room."

"I get it. May I get you a coke or something?

"Water would be great. No lemon."

As Bradford stood at attention and waited for nature to run its course, he thought about the front nine. He had played well and was ahead, but it seemed like he was just hanging on. He shot a 38 or 39 but Buzz had played better. It seemed like Buzz could turn it on whenever he needed to. It was almost like he was toying with him.

Bradford was just wrapping up when he heard someone come out of a stall and walk behind him. The next moment he was slammed into the latrine with his face buried into the tile. It wasn't funny, but all he could think of was that he would die with his zipper open. He felt more embarrassed than scared.

Dave's mood changed quickly when the man grabbed his hair and pulled his head back so he could see the pictures of Mary. "If you want to see her again, lose the match. If you win, the men that took these pictures will make her a happy woman before they kill her. Understand?"

Now Dave was frightened. "Yes, I understand. I'll lose the match. Just don't hurt her. I'll do what you want, but please don't hurt her."

"Okay. Now you just stay here for five minutes and play with yourself. Close your eyes. If you yell out or try to follow us, she's dead. Understand?"

"Yes, five minutes."

A moment later Dave heard the door slam shut and he was alone. He splashed water on his face but it didn't do much good. He was still in a daze. Dave's nose was bleeding and he had a bump on his forehead from the collision with the wall. He was still trying to gather himself and decide what to do when he heard a knock on the door and Chris ask "Dave, are you all right in there?"

"Come in Chris. We need to talk."

She entered and saw immediately there was a problem. In a flash her hand came out of her purse holding a gun as she headed toward the stalls.

"It's okay, Chris, they're gone. Did you see a couple guys leave a few minutes ago?"

"I did see two men walk quickly through the pro shop. They were wearing golf clothes, but didn't look like golfers. They seemed in a hurry, but I figured they were on the tee or something. Damn it, I should have trusted my instincts. Tell me what happened."

Dave showed her the pictures. "They said they would kill her if I won. They also hinted they would rape her first. They weren't kidding around. Any suggestions?"

"You have to trust me on this one. We'll get Mary back, safe and sound. I think we know where she is. I didn't tell you earlier, but as a precaution we had her followed when she left before. You just try to concentrate on the match. It's even more important that you win. They are desperate and will make mistakes."

"How can I play golf with this hanging over my head? I want to cancel right now."

"I understand, Dave, but please, give it a try. There is so much depending on this and we are so close. Besides, if you pull out now I think they might panic and there is no telling what they will do. We need time to get Mary."

Bradford thought for a few minutes and decided Chris was right. "Okay, I'll try but I can't guarantee anything."

"That a boy, Dave. I need to make a call and get things started. You might not see me on the back nine, but there will be another agent taking care of you. Just trust us."

"Chris, I'm counting on you. Mary means everything to me."

"Good luck."

Chapter 10

Par 4 – 410 yard

Buzz' Story

Bradford tried to concentrate but it was impossible. He could hear Ken reminding him that it is vital to have a routine under pressure; something that your mind and body can fall back on. Dave tried. He teed up the ball, stepped behind and looked at his target He needed to be just to the left of the two trees at the end of the fairway. He tried to visualize the shot landing in the fairway. He stepped forward and addressed the ball, checked his alignment, took one easy practice swing and started. His only thought was to maintain a slow rhythm and not overswing. Ken was adamant that too many swing thoughts were counterproductive. The mind locks up and the muscle memory developed from hitting countless balls on the driving range is lost.

Bradford tried, but at the top of his backswing the pictures of Mary flashed through his mind and his emotions took over. He felt the anger and rage mixed with helplessness. After that he wasn't sure what happened. Ken says you can usually tell what you did wrong by the flight of the ball. Well, in this case you couldn't tell much because there was no ball flight. He hit a low duck-hook into the bushes, just left of the women's tee box, 90 yards from the tee and 320 yards from the green.

Buzz gave him questioning look as he stepped to the tee. Last week he had blocked his ball into the trees lining the right side. Today he hit a perfect drive down the left center of the fairway, leaving him only 145 yards to the green.

"Try it again, Mario. That wasn't bad. Just try to relax and let the club swing."

Mario tried again with the same result. After eight months of lessons, he still had a wicked slice. A good drive went 200 yards, but most went 170-180 yards and ended up in the right rough. Despite an occasional score in the mid 80s, Mario would always be a 20+ handicap. "Buzz, I just can't seem to get it. Is there any hope?"

Buzz thought for a minute before answering. Mario had been taking weekly lessons for over six months and was a good tipper. Assistant golf pros depended upon club members like Mario to make a living and he couldn't afford to lose the business. "Mario, you've improved quite a bit since we started working together. Your short game is excellent. I won't lie to you. You will probably never be a scratch golfer, but I think we can get you shooting in the 80s. That's not too bad for someone that just took up the game a few years ago. The average golfer doesn't break 100."

Mario was pleased. Every golfer wants to improve and this gave him some hope. "Okay, Buzz, I'll see you next week. By the way, are you interested in earning a little money on the side? I'm throwing a party Saturday and need a second bartender. It's mostly wine and beer and Jerry will handle any crazy mixed drinks. Interested?"

"Sure. What time, and what's the dress code?"

"Talk to Jerry. I think he is setting up around six and probably has an extra tux you can borrow. I'll see you Saturday." Mario shook Buzz' hand and slipped him $50. Not a bad tip for a 45-minute lesson.

Dave's ball was in a bush and unplayable. He took a drop and was laying two over 300 yards to the green. His only choice was to lay up in front of the lake that protected the front of the green. He topped a 5-wood, almost missed it completely, and was fortunate to get a good roll off the hard fairway. He was out of the hole unless Buzz made a major error.

Buzz didn't. His 8-iron found the center of the green 20 feet from the pin

Bradford took two deep breaths, trying to regain his composure, and establish his routine. He could feel his club go back too far and his left side collapse, causing his body to turn too soon. To compensate, he hurried his swing. The result was a fat divot three inches behind the ball. The ball went about 30 yards into the water and he conceded the hole. The match was even, but Bradford was in no condition to continue.

Buzz joined him as they walked to the 11th tee.

"Calm down, Dave. Keep it together. We have only eight more holes. You can't afford to lose your composure."

Mario's party was a blast. There was a small combo playing island Reggae music. A few people danced around the pool, but most just enjoyed the free food and liquor.

There must have been over 200 people, a mixture of Mario's friends, business associates, politicians and a host of girls that Buzz suspected were mostly working girls. Buzz seldom experienced what others might call a dry spell. Women were never in short supply for golf pros in Miami, but even Buzz was impressed with the quality. They all were beautiful, and available. By 1:00 AM a half dozen were in the pool sporting only half of their bikinis and the best boobs that money can buy.

Buzz was doing a little of everything; backup bartending, cleanup of empty plates and glasses and waiting on people too lazy to come to the bar. He was good at names, but had met so many people that only half of the names stuck. He remembered one person distinctly and not because of the $100 tip. Mario introduced Buzz to Romano Montoya, describing him as a friend and business associate. Buzz shivered when he remembered the cold eyes. Mario later told him Romano had a profitable business in South America and was in position to do a lot for people he liked and trusted. Mario didn't spell it out, but Buzz could guess the business Mr. Montoya was in.

The following week Mario asked Buzz if he would be interested in taking a little vacation and making some extra money at the same time. "Sure, Mario, whom do I have to kill?"

"It's nothing like that, Buzz. Remember that fellow I introduced you to at the party, Romano Montoya? Well, he and two friends are in a golf tournament in San Jose and need a ringer. Interested?"

"Sure, I hear Costa Rica is beautiful. I've never been there. When's the tournament?"

They won the tournament and had a good time. It was a 4-man scramble and the team came in 15 under par. Buzz had four birdies and an eagle on his own ball. Romano wasn't a bad golfer and putted well, slamming down two long putts of over 30 feet. Romano was ecstatic and slipped Buzz a $500 tip.

Buzz took a couple extra days to golf and white water rafted on the Reventazon River just South of San Jose. He was packing to leave for Miami when a friend of Romano's came to his hotel room with a request.

"Romano asked if you would do him a favor and deliver this package to a friend in Miami. Just throw it in your golf bag and someone will pick it up from you tonight. Romano would be grateful."

It was an offer you can't refuse, and the start of two years of acting as a courier for a major drug smuggler. At first Buzz pretended he didn't know what was in the packages, but after awhile he stopped deceiving himself. He took Romano's money and enjoyed the mini-vacations and the large tips. His cover as a golf pro was perfect. He gave private lessons to a dozen or so wealthy people in addition to playing tournaments throughout the Caribbean and South America. The money kept rolling in, but his conscience was gnawing at him and after six months he told Mario he wanted out.

"I wouldn't recommend it, Buzz. Romano can be friendly to people he likes, but can be a dangerous enemy."

Buzz got the message and decided to bide his time until he had an opportunity to break with Romano. He finally got his break when the club was sold to a Japanese consortium that brought in their own staff. Bill Martin, the club's former owner, gave Buzz the bad news. "Listen, Buzz. You've been a good employee here and I know you would like to do something more than be a golf pro the rest of your life. Our company is looking for a Regional Manager of golf and real estate operations. It would mean relocating to Tampa. Are you interested?"

"When can I start?" Later he realized he had forgotten to ask about salary or benefits.

Two weeks later Buzz moved to Tampa. More importantly, he and Romano severed their business relationship on a friendly basis. Romano agreed this was a great opportunity and wished him luck. Buzz was relieved that this phase of his life was finished.

Buzz couldn't believe his good fortune.

Chapter 11

Par 5 – 530 Yards

Buzz and Ken

Ken and Buzz were on their 7th beer, or was it 17. It didn't matter. They had been celebrating since 4:00 PM when the last twosome had come in and they found out their 14 under score was good for first place and the $1,000 purse. It was a one-day, better ball format and each of them had played well; 10 birdies, and two eagles. Their only scare was on a 180-yard par 3 when Ken sank a 7-foot putt to save par. They even wasted three birdies when they birdied the same hole. The second place team came in at –11.

Buzz was bragging on his eagle on the par 4, 8th hole, when his 6-iron took one bounce and slam dunked into the cup. "Did you see the expression on their faces when that went in?" Buzz was referring to the twosome they were paired with.

"The big guy wanted to quit right there," said Ken. "I know they started off thinking they would beat us, but after four or five holes they got the message. That eagle took the wind out of them. A perfect example of the drive-for-show and putt-for-dough adage. They couldn't put their irons close and made nothing longer than eight feet. What did they finish, minus 2 or 3?"

Buzz and Ken had become good friends over the last two years.

They were both good golfers, single with an appetite for life. This was the 3rd amateur tournament they had entered and their first win after two close seconds. When they weren't golfing, they usually were doing something; horses, dogs, Jai Alai, sailing; you name it. Usually they had dates, but today the tournament was in Brooksville, 50 miles north of Tampa, and they were baching it.

It was after 6:00 PM and they were still at the club buying drinks for the 10 or 12 others that were still hanging around. "Let's get out of here, Ken. I need some food and a little loving. Let's see if there are any girls at Charands."

"I'm ready. We could use a little break, anyway. My elbow is getting sore trying to keep up with you. Buzz, you are in one of your lets-get-drunk moods. Is there anything bugging you that you want to talk about?" Ken paid the bill and grabbed the car keys. It was a 40-minute ride to Charands.

"I'm fine, Ken, nothing that a little food and a good woman won't cure." The rest of the ride was friendly banter between two good friends that had both played great golf. The $1,000 was a bonus. Ken was bragging about his tap-in eagle on a 555-yard par 5.

Charands was a nice restaurant frequented by lawyers and businessmen; known for their steaks and the women that came in following the money. Few restaurants in Florida are formal, particularly if you eat in the bar. A clean shirt, birdbath and cologne made them new men. Not all the girls agreed, but a couple did and that's all that mattered. The steaks were excellent and the girls were interesting, but around 11:00 Buzz started getting moody. Something was definitely bothering him.

"Let's get out of here, Ken, and go to O'Brien's for a nightcap. I need your advice on something."

"Sure, buddy, why not? I'd much rather listen to you than sleep with one of these fine looking women," Ken said facetiously, as the two girls they had been talking to came back from the powder room. Ken was only half kidding, but that's what friends did for friends. The girls weren't particularly happy either, but offered their phone numbers.

Dave stood over his tee shot and tried to relax. Buzz was right. The best thing he could do for Mary at this time was to play golf. She was safe as long as the match was close. He needed to give Chris and her friend time.

Ken and he had spoken many times about how to relax under pressure or stress. This was certainly one of those times. "Stick with your routine," Dave heard him say. He took two deep breaths, checked his alignment, and concentrated on tempo. To his surprise, the ball flew straight and long, stopping only a few yards behind Buzz. They both were in great position.

The players walked to their drives and Bradford wondered again what had gotten into Buzz. His attitude had changed completely; he was going out of his way to be supportive. Did he somehow know about Mary being kidnapped?

You could throw a blanket over the two drives. Both players had about 250 yards to the green, which meant Dave's drive had gone over 280 yards. The fairways were hard and there was a slight tail wind, but this still one of the longest drives he had ever hit.

"Nice drive, Dave. I didn't think you could hit a ball that far. I guess there was a little anger behind that swing." Dave glanced over at Buzz and nodded. Again, he was surprised at Buzz' friendliness.

Bradford chose a 5-wood to take advantage of the tailwind. He figured a high 5-wood might have a chance of reaching the green. He knew the key to hitting his 5-wood was not to overswing. It worked. He caught the ball crisply and the wind carried the ball to within 10 feet of the front edge. He had an excellent opportunity for birdie.

Buzz decided to go with his 3-iron to take advantage of the hard fairways. He made solid contact, but his draw carried the ball into the left, greenside bunker. With a back pin, he would have a hard time getting up and down for his birdie. Dave liked his position.

"You did what?" Ken shouted. "Are you nuts?" Buzz had just told him about the night he spent with Mary and Dave finding out about it. Ken couldn't believe it. What a way to ruin a good buzz. He was instantly sober.

"Have you talked to Dave? Apologized; whatever it takes?"

"I've tried, but he isn't listening. He barely acknowledges me at the club. I don't blame him. I screwed up. It was just that one time, but I can't blame him. I'm surprised he hasn't said anything to you, like, stay away from that asshole."

"He hasn't said a word, but now that I know the story, I can see how he might be acting differently." In fact, he seems to be paying more attention to Mary in the last couple months.

"Does anyone else know?"

"I don't think so. I certainly haven't told anybody. It's not something I'm proud of. I had to tell someone, and you're Dave's best friend, Ken. I hope it doesn't come between us. I know you and Dave are real close."

"Don't worry about us, Buzz. You're too good a golf partner to let a little thing like screwing a good friend's wife come between us. Seriously, Buzz, you screwed up big time and I'm glad you realize it. Someday you need to make it right with him, and Mary too, but it's something that you can't force. You'll probably go to hell for it, but at least I'll have a friend down there."

"Thanks, Ken. One day I hope I can make it up to them."

Bradford had several options. He considered using a sand wedge and flying the ball to the pin, but instead, decided on a bump and run shot. He executed the shot perfectly. The ball landed on the front of the green and ran all the way back to the pin, leaving him a four-foot birdie putt.

Buzz had a good lie in the trap, but would have to get the ball up quickly. He opened the face of his sand wedge and cleared the lip easily, but like many long bunker shots, came up short. He still had15 feet left for his birdie.

Buzz took a long time lining up his putt, looking at it from all sides trying to find a break that wasn't there. He finally got over his putt, took one practice swing and stroked his putt. It looked good until the last moment, before veering to the right and catching the lip of the cup. He tapped in for par.

Dave's putt was four feet with a slight right to left break. He nailed it dead center and was one up again, with seven to play.

Chapter 12

Par 3 – 145 Yards

Ken Discovers Buzz' Secret

The par 3, 145 yard, 12th is Bradford's favorite. The pin was tucked into the front of the green, just over the water and only eight feet from the greenside bunker. He selected 8-iron and aimed for the center of the green. Unfortunately, he hit the ball too well and it rolled off the back. It would be a difficult up and down.

Last week Buzz had ended up in the right side bunker with a pitching wedge. He had managed to save par with a beautiful sand shot. Today, with a slight tail wind, Buzz hit sand wedge. He hit it perfectly and got help from the wind. For a moment he thought he had a hole in one, but the ball stopped two feet short of the pin leaving him with a tap in birdie.

Nothing much changed between Buzz and Dave over the next few weeks, despite several attempts by Buzz to rekindle their friendship. They were paired together in the Friday golf game, but that had been a disaster. Dave barely spoke the entire round except for the perfunctory "nice shot" or "good putt" asides. It was clear the other two players were uncomfortable. The relationship was cool and getting colder.

Ken and Buzz continued to be friends and in late August found themselves on a dive trip in the Turtle Islands off Key West, Fl. The islands were almost two hours by boat from the Keys with some of the best snorkeling and scuba diving in the world. There are no hotels on the islands so they chartered a 50-foot sailboat with six other members of the Tampa Bay dive club. Sleeping quarters were cramped, but comfortable. Ken and Buzz shared a cabin with two twin-size beds, a small safe for their valuables and a 20-inch television.

They had just completed their 2nd dive and were relaxing on the deck. The captain suggested they visit the fort and grab a bite to eat before their night dive. "Ken, get me my cutoffs and shirt that are on the bed; I'm too comfortable to move."

"Not a problem, master. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"You're not my type but I'm sure I can come up with something."

Ken went below and quickly changed clothes, grabbed a camera and started up the steps when he remembered Buzz' request. He reached back and snatched the clothes with his free hand and started back up when Buzz's wallet came tumbling out. The wallet hit the third step and tumbled down with credit cards and bills scattering everywhere. One item, a picture ID in a thin case had flipped open and Buzz' face stared up at him. Below the face that Ken thought he knew so well, was a description that came as a total shock:

Buzz Peters

Special Assistant

FBI

Surprise, surprise, Ken thought. Who would have thought it? He recovered quickly and gathered the rest of the cards and stuffed them into pouches in the wallet. Ken decided to wait for a different time before he asked Buzz about his other life. In fact, maybe it's something he was better off not knowing. Ken needed time to think.

"Where you've been? We were about to call the coast guard. We're ready to go."

"If you didn't leave your wallet hanging out of your clothes I would have been ready 10 minutes ago. I've spent the last 10 minutes crawling under the bed trying to find your worthless credit cards that fell out. Don't worry, I only kept a few bucks for my troubles."

Buzz took the wallet and checked to see if anything was lost. "Other than a few C-notes, it looks like everything is here. I guess that means you are buying drinks tonight." Ken thought Buzz hesitated when he fingered his ID.

"I'll buy you all you can drink before the dive tonight, Buzz." Ken's offer wasn't as generous as it sounded, because few divers drink at all before they make a dive, particularly a 100-foot wreck dive that they were planning that evening. Depending upon the depth you are diving to, alcohol can severely hinder a diver's ability to clear their sinuses and ears which is necessary to equalize the pressure between their body and the water. If you can't equalize, you run a risk of popping your ear drums and permanently losing your hearing."

"I'll take a rain check, Ken. Let's see what this fort looks like."

As Ken wandered through the fort dating back to1832, he was thinking of other things and trying to recollect job-related conversations he had with Buzz. Other than to express some general suspicions about the Swiss lenders, he did not recall that Buzz had ever pressed him for details or had seemed overly interested. Maybe Buzz' FBI job had nothing to do with him, but again, maybe it did. Why hadn't he mentioned it?

Bradford needed to make his chip to tie and was forced to be aggressive. His bump and run shot from the back of the green flew past the pin and into the water. The match was all square.

Chapter 13

Par 4 – 350 Yards

Redemption

Buzz could drive this green today with the wind behind them. He had easily cleared the bunker last Saturday and came up only 20 yards short of the green. The risk of trying to reach the par 4 off the tee was getting caught up in the deep bunker or slicing the ball right, into the marshland. Buzz smiled as he considered his options. "Pro golfers never slice, they just block it right or play too much fade," he mused to himself. "Let's give it a rip."

Bradford watched with interest and was surprised at how hard Buzz swung at the ball. To his credit it went a long way. Unfortunately, most of the distance was right.

"What do you think, Dave? Did it stay in the fairway?" He had to be kidding, Dave thought.. That ball was so far right it wasn't even worth looking for.

"You might want to hit a provisional, Buzz. It's a long walk back if you don't find it." This time Buzz' drive was long and straight. It easily cleared the fairway bunkers and rolled to the front edge of the green.

The rules in club golf are a little lax. Dave should have hit his drive before Buzz hit a provisional. In fact, he wasn't sure whether Buzz had the right to hit a provisional at this time. Club players bend the rules a little to keep play moving. But, the official rules of golf are strict. Remember Greg Norman flying over the Miami golf course after he couldn't find his first tee shot and a rules official made him hit another drive, and also assessed a two stroke penalty for hitting his first provisional out of turn. Norman's Cessna was warmed up and ready to go when Norman putted out on the 18th hole.

Bradford hit 3-wood down the center of the fairway and came up short of the bunker. He was in great position, only 140 yards from the pin. Par should win this hole.

It had been a long day for Buzz. Scuba diving can be hard work, especially if you are fighting a strong current to stay below the boat. Three dives at depths of 60-90 feet had left him physically exhausted. The night dive had been particularly tiring. He should have saved the walking tour of the fort for another day. He was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. Ken had been acting strangely since the episode earlier with Buzz' wallet; distant was the word. Buzz was pretty sure Ken had seen his FBI ID Card. Well, the 6-hour drive back to Tampa tomorrow would provide ample opportunity to explain.

Buzz' thoughts drifted back to the events that led him to join the FBI. His first year in Tampa had been great. Bill's real estate business was expanding rapidly and looking for property to build new resorts or to acquire existing facilities that fit their profile. It was Buzz' job to determine if the proposed development made sense from a golf perspective.

Buzz' job was to play the courses and get input from members and local golfers. Bill had an accounting department that could crunch the numbers, but what they asked of Buzz was to assess the intangibles. What did the members think the club needed? What did Buzz think of the layout? Could it be improved? How did the course compare to other clubs in the area? If they spent money to improve the course, would they be able to raise green fees? It was a great job; somebody had to do it.

Bill proved to be a good person to work for and the year passed quickly. Buzz was given more and more responsibility as Bill became more involved in Martinez' political campaign for District Attorney. The company purchased 200 acres of land between Tampa and Orlando based upon Buzz' recommendation. The proposed residential development would include two Greg Norman championship courses. Buzz was told it would be his baby. He would be project manager with responsibility for all facets of project development and sales. This was his chance to prove himself.

Buzz learned there was a catch. "Buzz, I need your help on something. Have a seat." Apparently the Martinez campaign was short of cash.

"What can I do?"

"You're a scuba diver, Buzz. How far can you swim underwater, a couple miles or more?"

"Wow, that's a tough one to answer, With no current, and a spare tank, a person could probably swim a couple miles at a shallow depth; say five to 10 feet. The deeper you go the more air you use. Tell me more."

"We never discussed this Dave, but I'm aware of some of the work you did for Mario and Romano in Miami. Needless to say, you're secret is safe with me, but I think your experience and diving skills are just what we need."

Buzz' mind was racing. Just when he thought he was on top of the world and the drug business was behind him, he is right back where he was when he left Miami. He wanted to tell Bill to forget it, but instead he heard himself say; "What do you have in mind?"

"Our sources tell us that Romano is smuggling in uncut heroin by boat and dropping it offshore for pickup by Mario's people. The heroin is in waterproof bags and attached to buoys that float about five feet underwater. The drop is made about midnight and the pickup boat arrives just after dawn. That means we have 5-6 hours to grab our share."

"Why not use a boat? Why do you need a diver?"

"If we used a boat, we run the risk of being spotted by aircraft or satellites. We are only going to take a couple bags and let the DEA intercept the rest. We get money for the campaign and nobody even knows we were there. If we're lucky, nobody will even know the bags are missing."

"Bill, I don't want to do this. I'm not proud of the work I did for Romano and was hoping that was behind me. Besides, you apparently don't know Romano like I do. Don't think he won't find out."

"Buzz, just do us this one favor and we will never ask you again. We're not in the drug business, but there are a lot of good things we can do with this money. Martinez will be a great Attorney General for Florida. Besides, without this money our investors might need to divert money from the I-4 project to the campaign. I would hate to see you lose this opportunity."

Bill's meaning was clear and the implied threat was understood. "Okay, Bill, just this once. I'll do it if we can work out the details."

"Thanks Buzz, you won't be sorry."

Buzz met Jesus at a marina in Naples, 60 miles south of Fort Myers and approximately 30 miles from the drop point. Bill had assured Buzz that Jesus could be trusted, not because he was a trustworthy person, but because Martinez was in position to send Jesus away for life if he didn't cooperate. Jesus had done a few other small jobs for them in the past and had proven to be reliable.

Neither person said much as they loaded the diving gear on their 30-foot sport boat. Jesus had extra gas to make sure they got back. Buzz also had a gun underneath the console.

They headed out about 11 PM and were in position off a small island, three miles south of the drop zone by midnight. They waited for the phone call telling them the drop had been made. The call came at 1:15 AM. It was a go!

Buzz had studied the charts and found the drop coordinates were over a strong southerly current. Swimming to the drop zone would be easy. Swimming back upstream would be difficult if not impossible, particularly with the added weight of the heroin. Each bag weighed about 20 pounds; underwater they would be buoyant but tough to drag. They would feel more like 40 pounds.

Buzz decided to do a drift dive and let the current carry him north to the drop zone, and then on to the pickup point. Usually in a drift dive the boat stayed above them as they drifted with the current, allowing a diver to just follow the boat. That was obviously not possible in this case. Buzz would need to rely upon his compass to keep a northerly heading and hope Jesus found him when he surfaced downstream. He should be in the water no more than 90 minutes unless something went wrong.

Everything went like a charm. Buzz picked up the faint pinging of the transponders attached to the bags 20 minutes before he saw them. There were eight bags tied together, each secured by two buoys. It took 10 minutes to carefully untie two of the bags and dismantle the buoys. It was important not to leave any evidence that the bags were gone. A cut line would arouse suspicion. Buzz tied the two bags to his belt, scuttled the four buoys, checked his compass, and started north. The bags of heroin floated easily behind him with the current.

Buzz diving experience and exhaustive studying of the current paid dividends. At the 90-minute mark he surfaced to take a look for Jesus and almost hit his head on the boat. Well, that's a slight exaggeration, but 125 yards isn't bad. Buzz stayed on the surface and swam easily towards the boat. 15 minutes later Buzz and his cargo were safely onboard and the boat was underway.

"Any problems, amigo?"

"Nope, how about you? Did you spot anyone in the area?"

"Nada. Not a soul. Just relax, Buzz, have a beer. We need to pick up our amigo from the drop boat. His name is Diego."

Buzz wasn't happy with this change in plans, but there was nothing he could do. At least he now knew how Bill or Martinez had found out about the shipment and knew the drop coordinates. It worried him that there was one more person that Romano could find and question. There was no question in Buzz' mind that if Romano found someone, the person would talk. Buzz had heard several stories about Romano's interrogation skills.

"There he is, Buzz; 50 yards straight ahead. Take the wheel while I prepare a little surprise for our friend."

As Buzz slowed the boat to pick up Diego, Jesus tossed his surprise at the swimmer. Buzz saw the burning wick and smelled the fire. Part of him was not surprised when the TNT exploded and the swimmer disappeared below water.

"What did you do?" he shouted. "Why?"

"No witnesses. Those were my instructions. Besides, he wasn't a nice man. He should not have double-crossed his boss. Hand me that net. I want to take a couple of these fish home with me for dinner. Do you want any?"

Buzz was in shock, and said little the rest of the evening. He knew he should be thankful that Bill hadn't told Jesus to kill him too, but he was too sick to his stomach to care. He felt dead inside.

His last memory of Jesus was loading the fish into the cooler.

They didn't even bother to look for Buzz' ball. If they had found it, the rules of golf would have required that Buzz either play it or go back and hit another tee shot, even though his provisional was in the fairway. If he didn't find it, he could play the ball he had hit as a provisional. Go figure.

Bradford hit 8-iron to the center of the green 15 feet from the pin. He was lying two and Buzz would have to make a 50-ft. putt for his par. Dave was playing good golf, but feeling guilty not knowing if Mary was safe. He wished he would hear something.

Buzz' long putt came up six feet short leaving him a little work remaining for his bogey. He marked, and it was up to Bradford. Dave lagged his birdie putt to three feet and putted out for par. He was one up again with five holes to play.

Bill Martin was pleased and promised a sizeable bonus in next month's paycheck. No mention was made of the killing or what Jesus did with the heroin. Buzz assumed Jesus had contacts that would sell the product discreetly. The trick would be to keep Romano from tracing the sale back to Jesus, and eventually to Bill and Buzz.

Work returned to normal and Buzz was busy on the I-4 project. He was working 12 hours a day, but still couldn't erase the memory of the murder he had witnessed. His conscience was eating at him. He couldn't sleep. He woke up abruptly to visions of the explosion and fish floating to the surface. He needed to talk to someone. Raised Catholic, he went to confession for the first time in five years. The priest had absolved him of his sins, but also advised him that all men had an obligation to love their fellow man. "You can't live your life in sin and expect eternal happiness."

After three weeks of self-torture, Buzz decided to go to the authorities. If he didn't, he knew that eventually he would be asked to do Bill 'another favor' for Bill, Mario or Romano. They wouldn't allow him to escape from his past. He might go to jail, but that was better than what he was going through now. The question was, given what he knew about Martinez, who could he trust; certainly not the DA's office? He decided to try the FBI.

Buzz settled on Robert Peterson, Director of Special Operations for the State of Florida. He made an appointment for eight AM the following Tuesday.

"Good morning, Mr. Peters, I understand you have some information that you wish to share with us. Let me introduce field agents Steve Wilson and Hector Armas. Okay, let's get started."

Buzz sat down, took a deep breath and began his story before he lost his nerve. "Mr. Peterson, three weeks ago I helped the campaign manager for Joe Martinez to hijack a drug shipment of heroin. Later I witnessed a murder designed to cover up this hijacking. I'm not proud of what I did. That's why I'm here."

Peterson leaned back in his chair. "Whew, you certainly know how to get our attention. Do you mind if we tape this conversation so there are no misunderstandings?"

Buzz nodded his approval. "Go ahead."

"Okay, before we start, I should advise you of your right to have an attorney and that what you say here can be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?"

"Yes I do. I don't want an attorney. I just want to get this off my chest."

"Okay, why don't you tell us what happened in your own words? Start at the beginning. We have as much time as you need."

Three hours later one thing became clear. Buzz really had no proof. The FBI verified that six bags of heroin had been seized that day, but there was no mention of two bags being missing. Martinez had held a press conference and taken credit for the drug bust. He was a hero. There had been no murder reported that night. The DEA had not reported another boat in the area. In short, it was only Buzz' word that these events had occurred.

Buzz' story about his two years of drug smuggling in Miami was also interesting, but could not be substantiated. Buzz was getting frustrated.

"Buzz, we couldn't even arrest you, even though you have confessed to several crimes. A lawyer would have this case thrown out in minutes. But, we do believe you. Would you be willing to work with us to get the proof we need? It could be dangerous."

"I will do whatever you ask."

"Good. Steve is heading up an ongoing field operation relating to drug trafficking in the Caribbean. Hector Armas is looking into political corruption. I want you to stay where you are and see what evidence you can develop. Steve and Hector can get into the specifics. Will you do this?"

Buzz' saga with the FBI had begun.

Chapter 14

Par 4 – 465 Yards

Special Delivery from the Dead

The package arrived by regular mail on Tuesday. It had been mailed Friday from Zurich. There was no return name or address, but Buzz recognized the handwriting. It was Ken's.

Buzz hesitated for several minutes before he opened it. Ken's death had hit Buzz hard and he was still grieving. Receiving this package was like pulling a newly formed scab off a wound. It would take longer to heal.

There was a handwritten cover letter.

Hi Buzz;

I was right. There is something fishy going on here. It looks like Sven's money is coming from blind accounts set up in the West Indies. Ask your friends to check out the enclosed wire transfers and account numbers. My guess is that they'll find that it's dirty money.

Also, there is something funny about the enclosed Deed of Trust for the Mexico casino. Look who has the first option to purchase the property in case of default or bankruptcy? Surprise! That explains the cash flow problems at the casino.

Here is your chance to be a real FBI agent. Be careful who you trust. I think there is a rat in the woodpile. I'm not sure who, but I may know by Sunday.

If I don't see you, thanks for being a great friend. Don't forget to "make-it-up" with Dave.

Your friend, Ken

Buzz reread the letter several times to confirm his initial impression. Ken had known he was in danger and might not make it back. He had wanted to be sure that the information did. Ken knew that Buzz' FBI contacts would know what to do with it.

Buzz briefly looked at the attachments. There were copies of 20 or so wire transfers and a list of account numbers, each from a different bank and foreign country. Buzz was shocked when he saw who held the option on the casino Deed of Trust.

Buzz dialed the private number of FBI Special Agent Hector Armas and told him what he had just received. Within 30 minutes Hector was knocking on the front door.

"What's it mean, Hector?" as he finished reading the letter.

"This could be the break we have been waiting for, Buzz. These banks are notorious for laundering drug money, including Romano's organization. These wire transfers might be the proof we need. We won't know until we trace these accounts. I'm not sure about the Deed of Trust, but the account numbers provide a definite tie-in between Romano and the Swiss. Ken was right - he was on to something big."

The 14th hole turned back to the clubhouse and into the wind. In fact, most of the remaining holes would be into the wind; advantage Buzz.

Bradford's driver faded slightly and found the right rough making it almost impossible to reach this 465-yard par 4 in two. He still had 220 yards to the green. The rough was only two inches deep, but the ball was nestled down. He hacked out with 5-iron and was able to advance the ball 150 yards. Dave would need to get up and down to save par.

Buzz' drive was dead center, well within the 200-yard marker. He had only 190 yards to the green and hit 5-iron to the front edge, leaving him 25-feet for birdie.

Dave's pitching wedge got caught up in the wind and barely caught the right edge of the green. He was barely inside Buzz, it wasn't a good shot.

The two former friends walked side by side to the green. "This might go down to the final hole, Dave. Ken would have enjoyed this. I'm sure he would have been pulling for both of us to play well and enjoy the moment."

Bradford got the feeling that Buzz was trying to help. It was a comforting feeling under the circumstances. "I'm sure you're right. It's too bad he couldn't be here."

After Hector left with the Ken's letter, Buzz thought back to their conversation driving back from the dive trip two months ago.

"Ken, what's eating you? Is there something you want to ask me, like, what am I doing working for the FBI?" They were an hour into their 6-hour ride back to Tampa and it was obvious to Buzz that Ken must have stumbled across his FBI card.

"Well Buzz, now that you bring it up, just what is the FBI investigating? Is it Global Management?"

"Not directly, Ken. Let me tell you a little story. It's about a stupid golf pro in Miami that got involved with some bad people and did some bad things. He moved to Tampa and tried to start over and forget his past, but some other bad people found out and made him do another bad thing. This time someone got killed, not by this stupid golf pro, but he was there. This guy finally decided to own up to his past and turned himself in to the FBI. They convinced him to work undercover and try to get evidence on these bad people. I'm not an FBI agent, just an informant. The ID just gets me in the door."

"Ken, these bad people; are we talking about people I know?"

"Ken, I'm sure you could guess about the Miami people, but do you really want to know about the others? You need to work with some of them."

"I need to know, Buzz, and I'll tell you why. The more I work with this Swiss group that is funding our projects, the more suspicious I get. I'm not sure where their money is coming from. It could easily be drug money."

"I don't know anything about your Swiss group, Ken, but there could be others looking at them. I'll ask."

"Are you saying Mario is involved in all of this?"

"I know from personal experience, Ken, that both Mario and Romano are heavily involved in drug smuggling. Romano harvests and ships heroin and cocaine into the U.S. and Mario is his East Coast distributor. Mario's restaurants are just a cover and a tax dodge."

"I guess I'm not too surprised. I've always been a little suspicious of Mario and his friends. Are you still working for him?"

"No, I left that life behind when I moved to Tampa. But that's not my primary focus. My problem is that my current boss and his candidate are also dipping into the drug trade to finance their political campaigns. They forced me to help."

"Wow, Bill too? It seems that half of my friends are involved in something. Is Dave clean?"

"I'm pretty sure Dave's okay, although the FBI is suspicious of anyone working with Mario or Romano."

"What about Fred?"

"I think he is okay too, at least that's what they tell me. They think that Fred initially needed a source of financing when he was starting out, and Mario came along with the cash. Now it looks like Fred is trying to break away."

"Ask your boss if they know anything about this Swiss group. I'm going over there in a couple weeks to see what I can find out. I might be killing the golden goose, but I would rather not do any more projects with these people if it's drug money. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Okay. Needless to say, let's keep this conversation between ourselves. Nobody knows bout my involvement with the FBI. My health depends upon it."

"Not to worry, friend. I wouldn't want to lose my best caddie. Just be careful."

"You too, Ken."

Buzz' thoughts came back to the present. He wished that Ken had heeded his advice.

Buzz was away and left his 25-foot birdie putt three feet short, just out of the tap in range. He had a little work to do so he marked his ball. It was conceivable that Bradford could still win the hole if he made his 15 foot par putt, and Buzz missed. Bradford got overly aggressive and hit five feet past the hole and then missed the comeback putt for double bogey. The match was even as the players headed to the 15th hole.

Chapter 15

Par 4 – 390 Yards

Swiss Cheese

Dagfin left the Zurich Board meeting and headed for the club. He was eager to watch at least some of the golf match. He had a lot riding on it, much more than anyone knew.

His thoughts drifted back to Ken's last visit to Zurich. Dag had met Ken at the airport and greeted him warmly. "It's great to see you, Ken. I hope you got a few hours sleep because I planned on stopping for a couple drinks after we checked you into the hotel."

"I'm fine, Dag. Give me a half hour to wash up and change clothes, and I'll be ready to go. See those two kids over there, the ones sleeping in the stroller. They sat a row behind me and cried for the entire trip. I finally had a stewardess find me some earplugs and I managed to sleep a couple hours. This was Dave's reminder, Dag. No kids! I'm not cut out to be a father."

"You get used to it, Ken, trust me; I know, I have four."

"Are you still planning on going back Friday?"

"Yeah, I need to be back in Cabo San Lucas Friday, to prepare for the meeting on Saturday. You're going to be there too, aren't you?"

"Sven and I are flying in Saturday morning. I was hoping you could stay another day and we could fly together."

"Can't do it, I need some time with Chris and Pedro before the meeting. There are a few things that don't make sense that we are trying to get a handle on. I'm hoping you might be able to shed some light on them."

"Let's talk later, Ken. There are a couple things I want to discuss with you."

Buzz had honors and took out a three wood. He had butchered the hole last week by hitting driver through the fairway. He didn't make the same mistake again as his 3-wood found the center of the fairway. He sacrificed some distance, but was in play. Dave hit his driver squarely and ended up about five yards short of Buzz, 170 yards to the pin. Not bad.

Dave's 7-wood floated and stopped on the fringe in front of the green. Buzz's 7-iron was pin high, 15 feet right of the hole. Buzz was playing well again.

The DEA Agent assigned to watch Dave came over to him as the players walked to the green. "Dave, we got the two guys that jumped you in the bathroom and we believe they know where Mary is being held. I'll let you know as soon as I hear something."

"What's this about Mary?" Buzz asked, obviously having overheard the conversation. His face and voice portrayed genuine concern.

Bradford hesitated, but decided not to get into it now. "It's nothing to worry about, Buzz. Let's play golf." He could tell Buzz didn't buy his story and appeared hurt that he had not confided in him.

Ken and Dag were having a cocktail at a restaurant overlooking Lake Zurich. What a view, thought Ken.

Be patient, thought Dagfin. Wait for an opportunity.

"Dag, what's going on at the casino?" Ken looked at Dag, trying to keep his tone light and friendly. "It doesn't make sense. The cash shortages are so obvious that it's almost like someone wanted us to find them."

"I know what you are saying, Ken. That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you this evening, before you met with Sven and the other Board members. It's almost like someone is trying to sabotage the deal."

"But why?" Ken asked. Ken had a theory, but he wanted to hear what Dag would say. "Who would want to stop us, especially when we are so close to reaching an agreement to go forward with Phase II? Everyone stands to make a lot of money; Sven, Mario, Dave. Everybody! There are no losers that I can see."

"Ken, have you ever asked yourself if Mario is his own man in this deal? Is he the top guy? I don't think he is calling the shots, do you?" Ken was surprised. This wasn't where he thought the conversation was heading.

"I have given it some thought, Dag. I assume Romano has more than an idle interest in the casino. Assuming he's involved in drugs, the casino would be a great place to hide some money. But, why would he kill the golden goose by skimming profits in the first few months. He isn't stupid. It doesn't make sense."

"It has to be the money, Ken. Someone is trying to get control over the projects, and I don't think it's Sven."

"Speaking of money, Dag, where is the money coming from to fund these projects? Whenever I ask I get told it's money from wealthy private investors and pension funds, but I have never see anything specific. Do you know where the money is coming from?"

This is the opening I have been waiting for, thought Dagfin. J.R. had said he would ask.

"I don't know, Ken, but I have some suspicions. Last week I was working on Phase II financing when I came across several files that I don't think I was supposed to see. There is one file for each of several banks located in the West Indies and the Caribbean Islands. Each file contains copies of deposits from Caribbean banks, and transfers of funds to our corporate account."

"Who owns these accounts, Dag? Where did the money come from?"

"That's the problem, Ken. I can't get any details. The banks involved take great pride in maintaining the confidentiality of their customers. They are worse than the Swiss regarding privacy. The countries and banks are notorious for being used by criminals and drug smugglers."

"Okay, let's assume the money is coming from illegal sources. How does this provide us a motive for what's happening at the casino?"

"I haven't figured that out yet, Ken, but I have a feeling there is a tie-in. It could be drug money for all I know. I trust you, Ken, and you have a lot of contacts. If I give you the accounts and transactions, can you get them traced without getting everyone in trouble?"

"I might know someone that can help us," Ken replied, thinking back to his conversation with Buzz.

"Thanks, Ken. This has been bothering me lately. I don't want to be involved in anything shady. I have my kids to think of. Cheers, Ken, let's drink to a successful outcome to this partnership."

"Cheers, Dag. Here's to your family and a solution that is best for everybody."

Bradford had 50-feet to the hole and a choice between putting from the fringe and chipping with a 7-iron. It might have been lack of confidence that caused him to go with the putter. He didn't want to take a chance on chilly-dipping a 7-iron. He was pleased when the putt stopped three feet past the hole.

Buzz' birdie putt was makeable, about 18 feet with a slight right to left break. He barely missed on the high side and both men tapped in for pars. This was the first hole they had halved on the back nine.

The two men walked to the next tee box with the match dead even, with three holes to play.

Chapter 16

Par 3 – 220 Yards

Romano Takes Control

Romano couldn't lose. He owned both sides. His drug cartel contributed a large part of the money behind the Swiss group. He along with several partners owned 90% of the company. The Swiss were just a front for their money laundering operation. Sven and the rest of the Board members took their orders from Romano.

The cartel also owned a majority of Mario's stake in the casino and nine other properties His share increased to 67% as a condition for providing Mario the $462M needed to buy out the Swiss group if Buzz won.

Romano's concern was the size of the drug shipment needed to finance the purchase. He had convinced his partners to pool their product into one large shipment to obtain the necessary funds by Saturday.

Smuggling that much heroin was risky; too many things could go wrong. Romano would insist on being paid bank-to-bank, via a direct wire transfer into their West Indies account. He didn't want to handle that much cash.

Romano didn't get to where he was by trusting others, even Mario. He decided to personally see that nothing went wrong. Romano, Carlos and two of his best men chartered a small Lear jet from Miami and arrived at a small, private airport in North Tampa late Saturday morning. Bob Murphy, Romano's accountant and computer expert, met them at the airport. The five men waited for Sam's call.

The buyers insisted on keeping the location secret until the trucks reached Tampa, which opened up the possibility of a double-cross. Sam and Ron were armed, but would stand little chance if someone wanted to hijack the heroin. Mario had worked with the buyers for several years and vouched for them. He promised there would be no problem. Romano was there to make sure.

The money would be wire-transferred to Mario's account as soon as the drugs were inspected. Sam would use his laptop to verify that the funds had been transferred into their account. It was safer than dealing in cash.

The call came at 2 PM. The exchange was scheduled to take place at the old livestock barn at the State Fairgrounds. Romano had already driven to a central location in the Westshore area of Tampa and could get there in 20 minutes; 10 minutes ahead of the trucks. Romano told Sam to meet them at the main entrance and drive in together. There would be no opportunity for surprise, by either side.

The 220 yard par three16th was a tough hole, even on a good day. Today, the wind was in the player's face and the tees were back. It was playing 245 yards. Bradford knew it was playing long when Buzz took out a 5-wood. Buzz never used woods on par 3s. It was his best shot of the day and the result was excellent. His ball rolled to the center of the green leaving him a 30 feet putt for birdie.

Bradford initially considered using driver, but decided instead on 3-wood. He came within 10 feet of hitting a perfect shot, but caught the slope and rolled down to a collecting area 20 yards left of the green. It would be a difficult up and down.

"Nice shot," Dave said, as they walked to the green

"Thanks, Dave. I almost needed driver. As it was, I hit that 5-wood as hard as I could. You hit a pretty good shot yourself, but caught a tough break."

It was almost like old times, Dave thought.

Dave didn't like what he saw as he approached his ball. He didn't have a lot of green to work with and probably would need to hit lob wedge to get the ball to stop quickly. The only other option was to bump a 7-iron into the side of the hill and let it release onto the green. A lot of it would depend upon the lie.

His ball was sitting up perfectly about four inches from a water drain. He was entitled to a free drop because the water drain affected his stance, but decided to play if from where it lay. He might not get as good a lie if he dropped. He decided to use lob wedge.

This shot requires confidence and a little luck. Bradford opened up the clubface and took a full swing ala Phil Mickelson. These shots are spectacular when they work and make you look like a fool when they don't. Dave misjudged the distance and his ball landed pin high and rolled 15 feet past the hole before stopping on the fringe.

Buzz nearly made his birdie putt leaving him with a tap in par 3. "Nice par, Buzz," Bradford said. "Three's a good score today."

Dave decided to leave the pin in, mainly because it helped him see the line a little better. There is a difference of opinion among golfers, but most pros take the pin out if they think they can make the putt. They feel that more putts are kept out of the hole by the pin than drop in. It didn't matter in this case. Dave's putt was at least a foot left of the hole and rolled four feet past. It never had a chance.

Bradford was one down as they headed to the 17th tee. He glanced over at Jason who just shook his head. The DEA still did not have any news about Mary.

Three men were waiting just outside the livestock barn as Romano's little caravan approached. They were standing outside, in front of the building, behind a small table containing a laptop computer.

Carlos and his two men got out of the car. "Do you mind if we look around?" Carlos asked as his men walked towards the livestock barn. It wasn't a question.

"It's clear," Carlos reported after a few minutes.

Romano's accountant got out of the car.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. My name is Bob Murphy, a financial advisor to Mr. Montoya. Are we ready to do business?"

"Sure, let's see the product. I would assume you would like to verify that we have the money. Why don't we get started?"

"Rodger, why don't you see what they have in those trucks, besides oranges? Mr. Murphy can sit down here and play with the computer. I think you will find that the funds are in place and can be 'SWIFTed' to your accounts as soon as everyone is happy."

Romano remained in his car while the account balances were verified and the heroin was inspected for purity.

"It's top grade," Rodger reported to his boss after testing samples from three containers.

Murphy double-checked the account balances using his own laptop. You can't be too careful, Romano thought. It was like watching kids playing computer games; fingers were flying but there was little conversation. In 20 minutes, both sides were satisfied.

Murphy went back to the car, "Everything looks good to me, Mr. Montoya. The money is there, and I have verified the authenticity of their accounts and banks."

"Okay, let's do it, just as we discussed."

Murphy returned to the table. "We are ready to go forward, Mr. Jones. We would prefer to use our computer to make the transfer. As you can appreciate, we have invested a lot of time and money to encrypt our software to ensure these transactions are not intercepted by the authorities."

Ten minutes later, and a flurry of keystrokes, the money was transferred. Five minutes later Romano's cell phone rang. Yes, the money was received in their U.S. Bank Account and had been transferred again to accounts in the West Indies.

"Sam, Ron why don't you give these gentlemen the keys to their trucks. The oranges are free."

Bedlam broke loose as Jones and Murphy shook hands.

"Police, drop your weapons! Raise your hands, you are under arrest." Police cars approached from all directions with sirens wailing. Two helicopters appeared overhead with automatic weapons clearly visible.

Sam and Ron had thought better about trying to escape in the orange trucks and decided to give up peacefully when Sam realized he had given their keys to Ronald. They raised their hands to surrender, as did Murphy and Jones who were caught in the open with their computers.

Carlos reacted and quickly dove into the car where Romano sat alone in the passenger seat. The car was already running and Carlos slammed it into gear and screeched away with the police in hot pursuit.

Four men sought refuge in the livestock barn where they held out for fifteen minutes before surrendering. Their pistols were no match against a determined law enforcement group armed with assault rifles and stun grenades. One man was killed and another wounded before the others walked out with their hands above their head.

Carlos led the police on a long, high-speed chase before crashing into a concrete light pole while traveling in excess of 120 MPH. Carlos and Romano were killed instantly. Steve Wilson took custody of the computers.

Chapter 17

Par 4 – 375 Yards

Rescue

"Okay, sweetie, time to wake up and pose for some pictures. Come on, give Jesus a big smile."

Mary struggled to regain consciousness and figure out what was happening, but she couldn't think clearly. Who was this guy? Where am I? What am I doing here? The man was shaking her and her thoughts were starting to come back. She remembered a man calling to her in the club parking lot.

"Ma'am, wait, I have something for you from Mr. Bradford." She hesitated and waited as the man approached, and that was her mistake. The last thing she remembered was another man grabbing her and putting a smelly towel over her mouth. It must have been chloroform or something that knocked her out.

Mary was starting to think more clearly and realized she was in trouble. She was on a bed and her hands were tied to the bedpost. The man was holding a camera. "Who are you? What do you want?" she said aloud.

"Jesus will answer all your questions, but first I need to take a few pictures to show your boyfriend. Smile. That's it; I like the angry look. Let's show a little more of you on this one." The man grabbed her blouse at the throat and yanked down. Button's flew as the blouse separated. Mary's only satisfaction was getting in a hard kick to the man's leg before he pulled back.

"Ouch; you are a lively one. Jesus might have some fun with you before I let you go. Jesus took two more pictures and left the room. She heard voices and realized there was another man in the room. Minutes later she heard the door slam and there was silence.

Mary knew she had to escape quickly before the man, Jesus, came back. She struggled with the knots, but she couldn't budge them. Her only chance was to break the bedposts that the rope was tied to. After ten minutes, her wrists were raw and bloody, but she had made progress. The posts were loose and in another five minutes she would be free. Jesus entered the room.

"Ah, I see you have been busy getting ready for Jesus." He sat on the edge of the bed and separated her blouse. "Very nice," he said, as he started tugging at her shorts. Mary tried to knee him but he grabbed her thigh and said, "Si, I was right, you are a feisty one. Jesus will enjoy this."

Mary screamed as loud as she could. Jesus only laughed. "No one can here you, sweetie, but I do like it when you scream. It excites me." Mary was about to lash out us again when she noticed the bedroom door open behind and another man limp into the room.

"Jesus, I don't think the senora likes you. I don't like you either so that makes her my amigo."

Jesus jumped up and turned around, but was knocked to the ground by a blow to the head. Mary didn't know who this man was, but was happy to see him. His face was covered with scars and he walked with a cane, but Mary didn't care.

Jesus was bleeding from a gash to his head and looked up at his tormentor. He stared at the gun directed at his chest. He didn't recognize the face, but knew the voice. "Diego, my amigo; is that you?"

"Si, senior, I'm back from my swim with the fishes. Are you glad to see me?"

"I am glad to see you, amigo. I feel bad when that other man in the boat tried to kill you. I tried to stop him."

"I know, Jesus. Let's go into the other room and give the woman some privacy. We can talk about old times."

Mary sat on the edge of the bed for what seemed like hours, afraid to move. She could only guess what was happening in the other room, but she knew it wasn't pretty. The screams of pain and moans were horrible. Jesus begged for mercy, but apparently to no avail.

Thirty minutes later the man limped back into the room and approached the bed. He carried a bloody knife, which Mary was sure he had used to torture Jesus. Now he was coming for her. She was laid out on the bed with her blouse open and her shorts down below her thighs.

"Please, don't kill me. Do what you want, but let me go."

The man reached for her with the knife and Mary grimaced and closed her eyes in fear. She recoiled when he grabbed her wrist, but relaxed when she felt her hands come free. "Jesus likes to hurt people, but he won't hurt anyone again. I hope Mr. Bradford does well in the golf tournament. I don't like the man he is playing."

"Thank you, whoever you are," Mary murmured as the man limped away. Mary didn't move until she heard the outside door close. She dressed quickly and left the apartment, trying not to look at the bloody body on the couch. It was obvious that Jesus had died a painful death. Mary wasn't sorry.

Her car was parked downstairs and her cell phone was still in her purse. A street sign told her where she was. She dialed 911 and waited.

The 17th was a dogleg right with trees guarding the right side of the fairway. Both players had bogeyed the hole last week. Bradford's drive had found the trees on the right and he was forced to pitch out into the fairway. Buzz had played the hole perfectly tee to green, but three putted.

It was important to get past the corner of the dogleg to get a view of the green. Buzz took 1-iron with the intention of just hitting the ball 220 yards past the dogleg, but inexplicably hooked the ball into the left rough. It was the worst shot he had hit in two days. Bradford hit the center of the fairway and was in good shape, only 170 yards to the green. Buzz' shot was surprising. It was unlike him to miss a shot that badly. It was also the first time he had used his driving iron off the tee. The 35th hole was no time to experiment.

Buzz was up against bushes that restricted his backswing and had no shot to the green. His only option was to pitch out towards the fairway, but could only advance the ball 15 yards. He was still away, 190 yards to the hole with a bad lie in the heavy rough. Buzz had no chance to reach the green and hit 6-iron 50 yards short of the green. He lay three.

Dave had 175 yards to the green and chose 5-iron. There was trouble behind the green and he was taking no chances. With Buzz in trouble, he didn't want to be long. He hit the iron squarely and ended up 25 feet short of the center pin. Perfect.

Buzz hit lob wedge to 15 feet and would need to make that for bogey and hope that Bradford 3-putted. Dave's lag putt stopped just inches from the hole and the match was even with one hole to play.

Bradford spotted Chris approaching in a golf cart as he walked off the green. He held his breath and waited for the news. He envisioned the worst. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, mostly bad. How could I go on without her? What would he tell the children? He vowed to never again take her for granted, if she were safe. Each day would be special.

Chris' smile and thumbs-up gesture told him all he needed to know. "Yes!" he shouted. The weight of the world was lifted from Dave's shoulders. Mary was safe.

"I can fill you on the details later, Dave, but Mary is fine. We caught the guy who kidnapped her. She wanted to go home to the children. She said she is looking forward to kissing the new Club Champion."

Buzz came up behind and put his arm on Dave's shoulders. "I gather everything is fine." he stated. "I wasn't sure what was going on, but I was praying for her. Thank God she's all right."

"Thanks, Buzz, let me tell you what happened." Bradford told Buzz about Mary being kidnapped and the threat he had received at the turn. "The only thing I could do was keep playing until they found her."

"I can't believe you could play under those circumstances," Buzz replied with sincere admiration.

"I appreciate that."

"Let's play some golf," Buzz said with a smile.

Chapter 18

Par 5 – 555 Yards

Out of Bounds

Buzz and Dave walked across the narrow bridge to the 18th tee. One more hole and it will be over. Neither player wanted to go to a sudden death playoff.

"Let's end it right here, Dave, one way or another."

Bradford was about to answer when he felt searing pain. "Ouch." He screamed, as he felt something rip at his shoulder. An instant later they heard the crack of the gun followed by three more "bangs." Bradford couldn't believe it; someone was shooting at him.

"Down! Get down!" Chris shouted as she ran towards the players with her gun drawn. Dave and Buzz needed no further encouragement as they both hit the ground. They didn't need to be told twice.

"Are you two all right? Dave? Buzz?" They nodded, but made no attempt to get up.

"It came from the woods," someone shouted. Chris was on her radio and within seconds Dave heard sirens and saw police cars driving across the fairway. "Get a helicopter in here," shouted Chris into the phone. "I'll stay with the target."

Thirty minutes later, despite the helicopter, six police cars and three golf carts, they gave up the search. The gunman had gotten away. "We found bullet casings and footprints, but it looked like he had a car or bike waiting. Nobody seems to have seen anything, but we are still working at it."

"Come on, both of you, I'll give you a ride to the clubhouse."

The players looked at each other and both shook their heads. "Chris, if you don't mind, we still have a hole to play," Buzz said. "This is no big deal after what Dave went through with Mary."

Bradford agreed. "Let's play."

"Is this a macho thing?" Chris asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "Okay, fellows, it's up to you. I'll stick with you just in case, but I'm sure the guy is long gone. Have at it! I gather that blood on your shoulder won't hurt your swing."

With all the excitement, Dave hadn't even noticed the tear in his shirt and the blood on his shoulder. It wasn't much worse than a scratch, but a stark reminder of how close the bullet had come.

"It's nothing but a flesh wound, Chris. The bullet went right through. I can make it to my horse."

"What are you talking about, Dave?" Chris asked. "Are you sure you are all right."

"I always wanted to say that, since I was a kid watching Roy Rodgers and The Lone Ranger. This was my one big chance."

"By the way, Buzz, do I get a stroke because I'm injured?"

"Only if I get one for this," Buzz replied as he lifted his shirt revealing a gash on his left rib cage. The wound looked worse than Bradford's.

"Are you sure you can play with that?"

"We'll see," Buzz replied. "I always said I could out drive you with one arm. Now we will find out."

Chris realized that something had transpired between these two adversaries. Somehow, with all that had happened, enemies had become friends. Golfers are a different breed of people, she thought.

"You two are both crazy, but I wish you luck."

The match was even and Bradford had the tee. Under the circumstances, it was the perfect finishing hole. A 555 par 5, that was reachable only for the long hitters such as Buzz. However, there was a high risk-reward if you tried to reach the island green in two shots. There was water on three sides and trouble behind the green.

There was no chance that Bradford could reach the green in two, even without the injury to his arm. He took several practice swings to make sure that the wound would not affect his swing. It didn't, and Dave's ball found the center of the fairway.

Buzz took a few easy swings and said he would be okay. He surprised himself when his easy swing resulted in a great drive, down the middle and at least 40 yards past Dave's ball. Depending upon the lie, he might have an opportunity to go for the green. "Why not?" Buzz thought. He was just the type of gambler to try something like this and pull it off.

As the players walked back across the bridge together, Bradford walked up beside Buzz. "Whatever happens, Buzz, I want you to know that I appreciate your support on the back nine. I don't think I could have held it together without you."

"Thanks, Dave; I appreciate your saying that. Maybe when this is all over and things settle down, we can have a beer or two and talk about some of the things that have happened. I know Ken would like that."

"It's a deal, Buzz, count on it."

Bradford was 290 yards to the pin and decided to hit 5-wood; his favorite club today. He struck it well and left himself only 80 yards to the center of the green. Buzz was 240 yards to the pin and needed only 230 to clear the creek, well within his range. However, it was a front pin location and it would be very difficult to get a shot close to the hole. The pin was only 10 yards over the creek that cut in front of the green. Buzz considered going for it, but at the last second decided the risk was too high. He pulled out 5-iron and laid up, leaving himself about 60 yards to the pin. Dave would hit first.

Johnny Miller claims it is an advantage to hit first. "Put the pressure on your opponent," he says. Frankly, Bradford would have preferred Buzz to hit first so he could see how the wind affected his ball and to determine what he had to do. He didn't have that luxury. Dave decided to play safe rather than challenge the pin with a sand wedge. He hit his pitching wedge a little fat and got a good break when the wind knocked his shot down, leaving him a 12-15 foot birdie putt. Sometimes you hit a good ball and get nothing out of it, and other times like this you hit the ball a little bit off center and catch a break.

Buzz had 60 yards to the pin, a perfect distance for his lob wedge. He took little time and his shot was high and right at the pin, landing six feet past the hole, before spinning back. It narrowly missed hitting the pin before stopping five feet below the hole. He would have an easy uphill putt for birdie.

Bradford looked at his putt from every conceivable angle. Putts normally break towards the water, but there was water on three sides of the hole. Buzz' putt looked relatively easy. He had to assume Buzz would make it. There was no sense in leaving his putt short. Dave went into his routine, lined up the putt, took one practice stroke and struck the putt firmly. It had too much speed and would have ended up 4-5 feet past the hole if it hadn't hit the center of the cup and dropped for a birdie. He gave a Tiger Woods' fist pump and a sigh of relief. He began mentally preparing for the sudden death playoff.

Buzz' putt was almost straight up the hill with a slight right to left break, a perfect putt for a right handed golfer. It was only five feet and Buzz knew he would make it. There was no question in his mind. He started the putt on the right edge of the cup, but the ball never moved. Neither Buzz nor Dave could believe it. Dave Bradford was the Club Champion.

Thanks, Ken!

### Book Four

### Payoff

Chapter 1

Victory Celebration

Buzz hesitated for only a second before he put his arm on Dave's shoulder. "Congratulations, Dave, you deserved to win. Ken would be awfully proud of you."

"Thanks, Buzz. It could have gone either way. I'll tell you some day about how much was riding on this match."

" _There are some things I need to tell you," Buzz thought._

It was a strange celebration. The club members congratulated Dave and Buzz on a great match, but wanted to know more about the shooting. There was a collective gasp when the players showed off their wounds.

"Order us some drinks while we get cleaned up," Buzz told the bartender. "I'm buying."

"No he isn't, the drinks are on me," Bradford announced.

"Buzz, there's a doctor waiting in the men's locker room to check your wound," Chris interrupted. "Dave, you're next, but there is someone waiting for you in the women's locker room; someone that says she loves you very much."

"Mary is here?" Bradford asked, more for his own benefit. He didn't wait for an answer as he raced for the women's locker room and barged in without thinking to knock. Mary was there with Ginny, who congratulated Dave, before tactfully leaving her friends alone.

They hugged for 30 seconds before Dave finally asked if she was okay.

"I'm fine Dave, and I'm so proud of you. I can't wait to hear about it."

"That can wait, Mary. First, I want to repeat a promise I made on the 10th hole when I prayed you would return to me safe and sound. I promised never to let another day go by without telling you how much I love you and what you mean to me."

"That's beautiful," she said before they embraced again. "Me too."

Dave grimaced as Mary touched his wounded arm. "I'm sorry," Mary said as she backed away.

"It's okay, but I'd better get the doctor to look at it. Let's see if he is done with Buzz. I'll make sure that everyone is decent."

Buzz was buttoning his shirt back on when he saw Mary. "Mary, I'm glad to see you're all right. I can tell you that Dave here was plenty worried. What happened? Who was it?" Buzz asked, before pausing for a breath.

Mary gave a quick recap of her experience while the doctor treated Dave's shoulder. "Two men kidnapped me in the parking lot when I was on my way to pick up the kids. They drugged me with chloroform or something. When I woke up I was tied to a bed in some apartment with a man named Jesus. He took some pictures and then left the room. There might have been other men outside."

"Yeah, I saw them," Bradford interrupted. "He must have given the pictures to the two men who kidnapped you. They were the same men that threatened me in the men's room when we made the turn."

"You don't need to worry about them anymore," Chris added. "We have them in custody. Go on with your story."

"Jesus came back and made it clear he was going to rape me. I kicked him a couple of times, but he was too strong. He began ripping off my clothes when another Spanish man came in. The guy was grotesque looking, but he saved my life. They apparently knew each other, because Jesus called him Diego and they talked about old times. Suddenly, Diego knocked him down and dragged him into another room and apparently tortured him to death. The screams finally stopped and Diego came back and cut me free."

"Did he say anything to you?" Dave asked.

"He wished you well in the tournament and said he didn't like the man you were playing against. Do you know him?" Mary asked.

"I don't think I know either man," Bradford replied. "I'm just glad you are all right."

"I know them," Buzz replied softly. "Come on, Chris, we need to talk."

"I can't, Buzz. I need to stay with Dave. That guy that tried to shoot him is still out there."

"Chris, he wasn't shooting at Dave. He was shooting at me, and I think I know who's next. We need to call Hector Armas right away."

Chapter 2

Mario Concedes

Mario was worried. He had not heard from anyone for over an hour when Ron finally called. "Everything is going smoothly. Romano's man, Murphy, is on his computer, transferring the money as we speak."

"Call me when it's over, Ron. This is driving me crazy. Tell Romano that Buzz is on the last hole and the match is still even. Bill's insurance policy was worthless." Moments later he heard the bad news. Bradford had won.

Mario couldn't believe Buzz lost. Just two weeks ago he had beaten Bradford soundly. Damn it, Bradford was no match for Buzz even on his best day. Could someone have gotten to Buzz; paid him off? It was a possibility he would need to look into. Maybe this was his way out?

Ninety minutes later Ron still had not called back and wasn't answering his cell phone. Mario was worried, and not just because of the money. He had promised Romano that Buzz would win and Romano didn't like bad news.

This stuff with Mary was crazy. Rumors were spreading that some Spanish guy had kidnapped Mary. Who in the hell is Jesus? Oh no, thought Mario. I hope Romano didn't have anything to do with it. It would be just like him to do something like this. He realized how it must look to Dave and the others; they would suspect him. Shit, he would be glad when this was over.

Mario tried to put on a good front. Dave and Buzz were nowhere in sight but the Swiss group was at a table in the corner. Mario approached his former partner and offered his hand. "Congratulations, Sven. It was an exciting golf match. I want you to know I'll do whatever I can to help you in the transition."

"Thanks, Mario. I know it was a tough way to lose, but yeah, it was an exciting match. Did you hear about what happened to Mary?"

"I heard a little bit, Sven, and it makes me sick. I'm happy it didn't work if it was done to make Dave play bad. I know how it might appear, but Dave and Mary are personal friends. I would never even think of doing something like that, no matter what is involved. Mary is okay, isn't she?"

"She's fine. I think she is downstairs with Dave right now. Apparently someone took a shot at him on the 18th hole and creased his shoulder. Buzz was hurt too. They have a doctor looking at them now, but it can't be too bad after the way they played the last hole."

"It's amazing how some people perform under pressure. I guess Dave is one of those people. By the way, Sven, I'm ready to complete our transaction when you are."

"The attorneys are in the conference room. We're just waiting on Dave. He needs to sign the papers before we transfer the money."

"There's Dave now," said Dag. "Let's grab him before everyone starts buying him drinks." Dag wasn't completely successful but fifteen minutes later the principals were all gathered in the conference room, including Chris who wasn't letting Dave out of her sight despite what Buzz had told her.

Dave's attorney, Mike Addison, stood up and the room quieted. "Okay, let's get started. I have here four sets of documents that allow Sven's group to buy Mario's share of the partnership for $938M plus another $50M for the rights to the six Phase I1 projects. The new ownership structure will be effective as soon as the money is transferred. Any questions?"

Mario had one. "What about profits from existing operations, which I guess applies mainly to the casino? Am I entitled to a share of the profits? How are we handling that?"

"Good question, Mario. There will be a final accounting done in three months. The buyer will write you a check for your share of net income plus another check for the difference between accounts receivable and accounts payable as of today. If payables are more, Sven will have to eat the difference. Okay?"

"Let's get on with it," Mario said, resigned to the inevitable. He was already making plans to get the casino back.

"If there are no more questions, each of you needs to sign all four sets of these documents. We'll be finished here as soon as the wire transfer is completed." There was little conversation as the documents were signed and notarized.

"Mario, will you give your account numbers to Sven?"

Mario handed Sven a slip of paper with the required information. Dag used his laptop to make the transfer and in less than two minutes the transfers were completed; $9636M to Mario and $25M to Global Management."

"It's over," Addison announced. "Congratulations, Sven."

"I don't feel any different, do you Mario?" Dave quipped.

"I must admit I feel a little relieved, Dave. With everything that's been going on the last few weeks, I'm won't be sorry to put this behind me. I told Sven before, but I want to tell you directly. I know nothing about the kidnapping or the shooting. I'm just happy that you and Mary are all right. Congratulations on a great match."

"Thanks, Mario."

"Sven," Mario continued, "I wish your group success with the casino and other projects. That's all I have to say, other than I'll use a little of your money to buy drinks for everyone. I know I could use one."

The door opened before anyone could reply. Three men entered including Buzz and his boss, Steve Wilson. Steve flashed his FBI identification. "Mario, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent and anything you say ..."

"What? I didn't do anything. I had nothing to do with the kidnapping and shooting."

Steve and the other agent grabbed Mario and handcuffed his hands behind his back. "You are under arrest for suspicion of drug smuggling."

"No, you have no evidence," Mario protested.

"We have sworn affidavits from your delivery boys; Sam and Ron," Steve replied as they led Mario away.

Everyone started talking at once after Mario was escorted from the room. Buzz interrupted; "I'll bring you all up to date at dinner tonight, but in the meantime, let's have a drink on Mario. He has a tab here, and I heard him say he was buying."

Chapter 3

Political Payback

Diego had waited two years for this day. It wouldn't be long now. The speech was almost over and the candidate would be coming out soon. He lit another cigarette and thought back to that evening two years ago when he had helped Bill Martin and Martinez steal the two bags of heroin and then had nearly died when Jesus tried to blow him out of the water. Jesus was dead, and Martinez would be dead in a few minutes. Bill Martin would be next. Then he would go back and finish the job on the golfer.

The memory was etched into his mind and replayed again and again Diego could still see that stick of dynamite tumbling through the air and hearing Jesus yelling something about a gift. He tries to move, but reacts slowly, first thinking it is a sparkler or firecracker. That split second had almost gotten him killed.

Dive, dive, dive, he thinks, as he finally recognizes the danger. He tries to get as far underwater as possible, but everything in his dream is happening in slow motion. His arms and legs are heavy and don't respond to his brain's commands. Still, he had almost made it. Diego was probably at a depth of three feet when the TNT exploded. At two feet he would have been dead; at six feet, the water would have dispersed the explosion enough to leave him with only minor injuries. That was the last thing he remembered for several weeks.

The island was uninhabited, but several fishermen built a small hut for shelter and occasionally spent the night. Two were there that night and heard the boat approach and saw the explosion. They raced to the beach and found a body floating in shallow water among a score of dead fish. The boat was gone. The men dragged the limp body onto the beach, thinking he was already dead. They were half right. Diego was more dead than alive, and for the next few weeks his life hung by a slender thread, but he refused to die. The men did what they could, which wasn't much, but enough for someone with Diego's will to live. Revenge was a strong motive. For three months Diego lived on fish and rainwater, plus some fruit and vegetables the fishermen occasionally brought. He finally left the small island and started his recuperation, but it would be a long time before he was strong enough to carry out the plan for revenge that had kept him alive.

Jesus knew he was going to die, but had begged for mercy. When that didn't work, he begged for a quick death. His prayers were not answered. They would find many of the same scars and broken bones on Jesus' body, that Diego had lived with for all these years. Diego had been impotent since the explosion; so was Jesus when he died.

Diego smiled as he enjoyed the memory of Jesus' pain and suffering. It was only justice. Before he died, Jesus had confirmed what his suspicions. It was Martinez and his campaign director that ordered his death. Jesus had also volunteered the identity and told him where to find the other man in the boat. "He is playing in a golf tournament right now. If you move fast, you can catch him before he finishes." Jesus was kind enough to provide directions and even suggested a spot along the 18th fairway where Diego could set up an ambush. Those were the last words that Jesus spoke. Diego was in a hurry – he had another job to do.

Diego had found the golf course and waited in the woods lining the 18th fairway. Jesus had been correct; the woods were dense and provided good cover and a perfect view of the 18th tee. It was too bad that he didn't have more time to plan, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity. He estimated the distance to be only 180 yards, well within the range of his old, 1990's vintage, Remington model 700P hunting rifle. He had killed many deer and even birds at much longer distances. He didn't have a scope, but at 180 yards, he couldn't miss.

Diego found a log to prop the rifle and settled down to wait. He could hear the gallery on the 17th green and knew it wouldn't be long. Diego had a smile on his face as he thought of Jesus begging for forgiveness, when he was startled by the approaching golf cart. Why was anyone driving the wrong way, from green to tee? He slid behind the log and waited for the cart to pass, not failing to notice the DEA patch on Chris' jacket. He watched the DEA agent stop and talk to the two golfers who were standing at the foot of the bridge leading to the 18th tee. Diego thought briefly about postponing his assassination attempt, but decided to go ahead as planned. He would just need to move quickly after the shots. He studied the map and mentally planned his escape route as he waited for the golfers to cross the bridge. They began to move. It was time.

Diego realized he had a second problem. Which one was Buzz Peters? From 180 yards, the golfers looked the same. No matter, he would kill them both.

He focused on the first man and slowly squeezed the trigger and fired. The man stumbled and Diego fired two more shots in rapid succession before switching his focus to the second golfer and squeezing the trigger three more times. He paused and assessed the damage. Both men were down, but it was impossible to tell whether they were dead. No matter, it was time to go.

Diego slid the gun into the golf bag and walked out of the woods onto the ninth fairway with the golf bag slung over his shoulder. The fairway was open so he dropped a ball and hit seven iron to the vacant green. There was a lot of turmoil around the clubhouse, but no one paid attention to the lone golfer finishing up the front nine. Nobody noticed that the man walked past the green and to the parking lot, leaving his ball on the green, ten feet from the hole. A real golfer could not have resisted the temptation to finish the hole. Diego was not a golfer – he had just been lucky.

Diego had time to think as he headed downtown for his next appointment. He hoped he had killed the two men, but couldn't be sure. It didn't bother him; Diego would be back if Buzz was still alive. Martinez was his first priority.

Martinez was coming out of the building now; the same man he had met several years ago when Martinez was just an Assistant D.A.

"Diego, this is Joe Martinez. I need a favor."

"Of course, Mr. Martinez, it's been a long time." Diego knew this moment would come sooner or later. Three years ago Diego had been arrested in Miami for possession of ten kilos of heroin, more enough to classify him as a distributor. Diego was looking at 5-10 years. Rather than prosecute, Martinez had offered to drop the charges in return for future favors. It was time to repay his debt.

"I need your help, Diego, and I'm willing to make it worth your while. My sources tell me you are still in the same business, working for Montoya."

"Si."

"We can help each other. I'll have my man. Jesus, contact you and work out the details."

That was the beginning. The offer was $2M and a new identity in return for information on how Romano was getting his drugs into Florida. Jesus and Diego were old friends. The plan seemed to be perfect. It would appear that Diego was blown up with Juan and his boat and Romano would have no reason to look for him. The DEA would get the drug bust and nobody would know that a couple bags of heroin had been swiped. The plan worked perfectly until Martinez had decided to double-cross him. Now it was time for payback.

Something was wrong. The Feds were on alert and shutting down traffic. Martinez came out of the building and State Troopers surrounded him and escorted him to the waiting limo. Diego wondered how they knew about him. It had to be the other guy in the boat, Buzz. He was still alive and apparently had talked. But why would he tell, unless ... Diego would go back for him tonight.

Martinez was safely in his car and protected by two bodyguards and cars in front and back. The future Governor of Florida was probably thinking how safe he was when the limo driver turned the ignition key and the limo blew 20 feet into the air and exploded into little pieces.

Diego thought it was a fitting way for Joe Martinez to die.

Chapter 4

The Party gets Smaller

Dave had drinks coming from everywhere. Mario knew only a few people at the club so his arrest did little to dampen spirits. Several members toasted Mario as they sipped the free drinks. Sven was withdrawn, but the rest of the Swiss group was in good spirits. After all, they now had controlling interest in the Cabo casino and several other potentially lucrative projects.

Bill Martin bought a round of drinks on the house and instructed the kitchen to put out some munchies. As club owner, he could afford to. He had lost some money betting on Buzz today, but not enough to matter. Bill and Ginny would be joining Dave and Mary for dinner.

Bill was chastising Buzz for missing that putt on 18 when his cell phone beeped. He took the call. The table went quiet when the revelers saw his face turn ashen. "Martinez was assassinated," he whispered to Buzz, as the caller gave him more of the details. Word spread quickly around the room. This was big news.

Buzz spotted Hector Armas, at the doorway with two other FBI agents. He quickly walked over to them and told them the news about Martinez. "We know, Buzz. It's not good timing but we are here to arrest Bill for drug smuggling and distribution. You are the key witness now that Jesus is dead. Are you up to it?"

Buzz nodded

"Good. We found a couple things on Jesus' body that tied him to Bill, but nothing solid. We will need your testimony."

"Give me a few minutes, Hector, and I'll bring him out to you. II don't want to embarrass him in front of his friends and employees. I'll tell him you are here to provide protection."

"Good idea. No sense crashing in and making a scene if we don't have to."

Bill had finished the call and was being consoled by a few club members. He was obviously broken up and in shock. "I should have been with him. I was supposed to be until this golf match came up. We were best friends since high school. He had such a great future. What a waste."

Bill stood up; "Friends, I would like to propose a toast to Joe Martinez." Everyone stood. "I'll miss you, Joe, and everyone in Florida will be poorer for the fact that you won't be their next governor. Cheers."

Buzz grabbed Bill by the arm. "Bill, these agents need to talk with you. I think it's about security." Bill nodded and followed Buzz out of the room while the rest of the group resumed their celebration.

"Mr. Martin, I'm Special Agent Hector Armas with the FBI. I am sorry to hear about your Joe Martinez, but you are under arrest for drug smuggling and accessory to attempted murder. You have the right to be silent and ...."

Martin had no reaction other than to give Buzz a glazed look as if to ask what Buzz had to do with this. There is only so much shock the human mind can absorb. He was quickly handcuffed and led outside to a waiting patrol car.

Buzz returned to the party feeling sorry for Bill but resolute in the knowledge that he had made the right decision. The timing of Bill's arrest sucked, but couldn't be helped.

Chapter 5

The Celebration Ends

The members were restless as Buzz came back into the room. Someone had seen that Bill was handcuffed when he was led away. "What happened, Buzz? Why did they arrest Bill? Did it have anything to do with Martinez?"

"Guys, I'm just a golfer, and I proved today I'm not a very good one. All I know is they asked if I would get Bill to come out and talk to them. Sorry, but I can't help you."

He slumped down next to Dave and Mary. "I really need another drink, but I'd better not. Would you mind if Jill and I joined your group for dinner tonight? There are a few things we still need to talk about."

Mary didn't even wait for Dave's approval. "By all means, Buzz, please come, and do bring Jill. I miss our tennis games and really would like you both to come." She looked at Dave for confirmation.

"Great idea, you can tell us how you misread that last putt."

"I'll be there. What would a victory party be without the loser?"

"Buzz, after today, there is no way anyone will ever call you a loser in front of me. I'm looking forward to hearing the rest of the story. Chris told me earlier that you have been working with the FBI."

Buzz nodded his assent.

"Anyway, we need you there Buzz," Chris said. "I made reservations for 12 but it doesn't look like Mario and Gigi, or Bill and Ginny, will make it."

"Who's left?" Mary continued. "Dave and me, Fred and Judy, Sven and Dagfin, Chris, Buzz and Jill; who am I missing?"

"What about Pedro, the General Manager from the casino? Wasn't he coming? That's right. He couldn't stay, but said he would meet us for dinner. That's ten."

"By the way, where's dinner?"

"I reserved the private dining room at the Jasmine Thai at 8:00," Mary answered "It's perfect. The food is excellent and we have enough privacy to carry on a conversation."

"If Ken was here we would need to remind him to wear socks" Buzz joked.

"What if someone doesn't like Thai food?" Dave asked, wondering if he could order a filet mignon at a Thai restaurant.

"Learn," Mary replied.

The conversation was over. Dave had lost again.

Chapter 6

Pictures from Zurich

"Mary, are you almost ready? We don't want to be late."

"Don't worry, how can they start a victory party without you? You're the star! Ten more minutes."

Dave knew that ten minutes translated to 15 or 20, so he poured himself a glass of wine and started browsing through the unopened mail from the last two days. He stopped when he saw the letter-sized envelope with the hastily scrawled address. It was Ken's handwriting with a Zurich postmark, dated the Friday Ken had left Switzerland. Bradford now knew how Buzz must have felt when he received his letter from Ken.

Bradford hesitated briefly before slitting open the envelope. Three pictures fell out, but no letter or message. The pictures told the whole story.

The phone rang. "Dave; it's Leroy. I'm glad we caught you before you left. Hector Armas needs to talk with you; Hector."

"Dave, sorry to call you at home but something has come up and I need to get your input. Leroy and I will be there in five minutes. Can you wait?"

"I'll be here. Your timing is excellent - there is something I want to talk with you about too."

Five minutes later they were all sitting around the kitchen table. Hector explained the problem.

"The money Romano deposited from the drug sale at the State Fairgrounds is the same money that the Swiss group used to purchase Mario's share of the casino. The money was deposited into a West Indies bank and then transferred to another bank in the Caribbean. Both banks and account numbers were on Ken's list."

"Isn't this what you expected?" Dave asked. "I don't get the problem."

"Yes, but now it gets interesting. Two hours later, after your golf match was finished, the money is transferred again, this time into the Sven's Swiss bank account. An hour later, when the wager was settled, this same money was transferred again, back to the same account where it originated."

"Wow, what a conundrum," Dave mused. "Sven and Mario seem to be playing with the same money. It doesn't make sense."

"In a nutshell, Dave, this has us stumped. I thought you might have heard something that could help us. Did Sven ever mention a second set of accounts?"

Dave shook his head as he fought to remember, before realizing that the answer was right in front of him.

"No, but this came in the mail today, Hector, I think it might help."

Hector and Leroy looked at pictures and saw the postmark on the envelope. Hector whistled. Leroy was still perplexed. "Okay, tell me what I'm missing here."

They did. A half hour later they had a plan. Hector would join the group for what was promising to be an interesting dinner.

"I'm ready," Mary said as she walked into the kitchen.

"You look beautiful, Mary, and certainly worth waiting for." Bradford decided not to mention the pictures or tell her what they had discovered."

Chapter 7

The Dinner Party

The ambiance was perfect for an informal get together of friends. There were no chairs, but only cushions scattered around a sunken table. Shoes were left at the doorway in the Thai tradition.

The Thai food was excellent and the presentation was excellent, Mary and Dave split a whole red snapper, which easily could have fed two others. Next time he would request that the waiter remove the head, Bradford thought. He was convinced the eyes were staring at him the entire meal.

Everyone was in a festive mood despite the events of the day. Fred and Ginny couldn't make the golf match and wanted to be brought up to date. It gave Dave and Buzz and opportunity to regale in their feats and brag on each other – it was like old times when the two had been close friends.

Fred was understandably distracted. He had been a good friend with Bill and Joe Martinez. He was also concerned about the restaurants that he owned with Mario. There was a good chance that the FBI would foreclose on Mario's ownership shares, arguing that the money came from illegal drug activities.

"You better get a good attorney," Hector advised. "The Feds can be ruthless."

"Maybe you can buy them out?" Sven suggested. "I could probably get you a loan, but the interest rate might be pretty high for such a high-risk operation," Sven joked.

"Do you have any friends that would vouch for you?" Buzz asked with a straight face.

The women had their own conversation. Jill was sorry that Buzz had lost, but got over it quickly when she saw that Buzz didn't seem to care. She and Mary had a lot of catching up to do.

Dave still hadn't heard the story about how Buzz went to work for the FBI. "Tell us Hector, how did the FBI get to a point where they needed Buzz?"

Hector looked at Buzz and sidestepped the question. "I traded three golf lessons for an FBI nametag," he quipped. It was obvious Hector didn't want to discuss the arrangement. There was still someone at the table they didn't trust.

Bradford realized his mistake and allowed the conversation to move on. "Hector, tell us what you can about Mario," Fred queried. "Just what is he charged with?"

"That's why Dave invited me tonight, so I'll tell you what I know. We suspected that Mario has been distributing drugs along the East Coast for several years, but we couldn't prove it. Romano Montoya was his supplier and also the money behind most of Mario's investments, including the casino. Our break came when Mario needed to raise money quickly to buy out Sven's group. Romano and Mario were in a hurry to raise the cash, and got sloppy. We got a tip that they were flying the drugs into the Everglades where the drugs were transferred to a couple citrus trucks. We followed the trucks to the exchange and caught Montoya red handed."

Buzz interrupted. "Did anyone see the news coverage of the drug bust at the Fairgrounds? That's what Hector is talking about."

Jill had seen it. "Yeah, they had live video on Channel 28. Didn't a bunch of people get killed?"

"That's right, Jill," Steve replied. "Romano and two bodyguards were killed when they tried to shoot their way out and escape. One of the suppliers was critically wounded. The rest surrendered, including Romano's financial man who did the wire transfers."

"So how does this tie in to Mario?" Fred asked. "He was at the golf match, wasn't he?"

"The drugs were hidden in false bottoms of two semis, under a ton of Florida navel oranges. Two men that have worked for Mario for years drove the trucks up from southern Florida. They were captured and immediately began talking and implicating Mario. Apparently Mario set up the deal, but for some reason Romano decided to take charge. Bad decision," Hector commented.

"Is that enough to convict him; the word of two drug smugglers trying to cut a deal?" asked Fred."

"Probably not," Hector replied. "However, we do have another inside source and corroborating evidence that I can't get into. Trust me; we have enough to put him away for a long time." Hector saw no need at this time to detail Buzz' involvement.

"What happened to the money?" Fred asked. "Channel 28 said there were drugs recovered, but no money. Isn't that strange?"

"That's the $500M question, Fred. What happened to the money? There wasn't any cash involved; deals this large are done with wire transfers, the same way Sven bought the casino and other properties from Mario this afternoon. Cash is too bulky and counterfeiting is too easy."

"So, what happened to the money?" Fred asked again.

"That's what's bothering us. We captured the computers used to make the transfers and followed the transactions. As far as we can tell, the drug money ended up in the Zurich National Bank in accounts owned by a Swiss corporation named International Investors, LTD. That's your company, isn't it Sven?"

The table went dead quiet. Sven was in a state of shock. Bradford watched his face closely; if he was acting he belonged in Hollywood. No, Sven was not acting.

Sven recovered quickly. "I assure you, Hector, there must be some mistake. Our firm would never have anything to do with drugs or anything like that. Our money comes from pension funds and wealthy investors. Tell them, Dagfin, you handle the deposits."

All eyes switched to Dagfin Jensen. "Yes, tell us Dagfin," Buzz said in a cold tone, "and while you are at it, tell us how you happen to be named on this document that assigns you ownership of the casino and all the other properties in the event that the parent company fails." Buzz pushed the Deed of Trust towards him, but Dagfin did not react. He already knew what it said.

"Let me see that," Sven said as he grabbed the document. After a few moments during which Dag sat in stony silence, Sven said. "I never saw this document before. You can see it was signed by four members of the Board of Directors, which is a majority and makes it binding, but I never saw this."

"I believe you," Hector replied. "Dagfin, do you have anything to say before I have you arrested for wire fraud?" Two FBI agents had stepped into the room.

Dag looked at Dave and said; "Ken was my friend, Dave. Believe me; I had nothing to do with his death." He was silent as he was handcuffed and led away.

There was more. Chris turned to Pedro. "Pedro, you were responsible for the cash shortages in Cabo San Lucas weren't you? You and Dag were working together. Do you have anything you wish to say?"

"Si, I have been foolish. Dagfin told me that the only way to keep the casino open was to get rid of the existing partners and allow Dagfin and his partners to get control. He told me to make it look like someone was stealing money from the casino so that his group could come in and do an audit. If I didn't, the casino would be closed and my people would lose their jobs."

"Who were his partners?" Hector asked.

"I don't know; I only dealt with Dagfin."

"Pedro, we need you to go downtown with these gentlemen and make a statement. Just tell the truth and I think we can get you back home in a couple days."

"I will tell the truth." He looked at Dave as he left; "Lo siento mucho."

"How did this help Dag?" Dave asked Hector as Pedro was lead away.

"We weren't sure at first, but Chris noticed there is a moral turpitude clause in the Deed of Trust that specifically mentions ownership succession. Dag inherits control of the projects if an independent audit finds evidence of fraud and embezzlement. Sven is fired and the Board of Director's is dissolved."

"Why is Sven's group punished when Mario had operational control?" I asked. "I can see Mario being fired, but why Sven? It doesn't seem reasonable."

"It isn't" Hector interjected, "that's why we were so astounded when we saw the Deed of Trust. It proved that someone was working both sides."

"Romano," Fred said echoing everyone's thoughts.

"No wonder Dag wanted Dave to win today," Buzz surmised. "He would get nothing unless the Swiss took control of the casino and other projects."

The table was quiet for a few seconds before Mary said; "I have a little surprise planned. Is everybody ready for dessert?"

Chapter 8

The Frosting on the Cake

The cake was appropriate, an ice cream base glazed with chocolate frosting. Sculptures of two golfers adorned the top. "Come on you guys, eat one more piece; Fred, Sven, Steve, anybody?"

There were no takers. Sven just shook his head. He had been silent and brooding since learning about Dagfin. Who could blame him?

"Mary, the cake is great, but you can't expect us to eat three pieces just because some of your guests had to leave early."

"Dave, your humor isn't always appreciated by everyone. Well, if everyone is done, I'm going to take this opportunity to powder my nose. Anyone care to join me?"

"Sounds interesting," Dave replied, "but we have a little man-talk to take care of before we leave. Maybe Ginny and Jill can join you?" The ladies took the hint and Chris took the opportunity to get something from the car. Better yet, she also picked up the tab.

Bradford looked across the table at his best friend. "Fred, you mentioned once that you had an option to buy out Mario's share of the restaurants in the event Mario is ever convicted of a crime. Is that clause similar to the buyout option you prepared for Dagfin?" Fred's eyes hardened but he didn't say a word.

Bradford stared across the table at Sven. "Are you going to remain silent? Isn't it obvious that they were using you?"

Sven sat silent for a long time before he raised his eyes and looked at Fred. "My Board of Directors and I knew this man only as J.R. I didn't know his real name until I saw him at the funeral. J.R. brought us this investment opportunity and mandated that we authorize the funding. I see now how badly we were used. J.R. is Chairman of the Board."

Fred didn't say a word or react to Sven's accusations.

"You used me too, Fred," Bradford continued. "You used my friendship to find out what we knew about your operation. You used everybody you dealt with; Sven, Mario, Romano, everybody; didn't you?"

"You are not making any sense, Dave. What do I stand to gain from all of this; Mario's share in the restaurants? That's peanuts."

Steve interrupted. "You're right, Fred. It didn't make sense because it looked like the only winner in all of this was Dagfin. Ken mailed Buzz a copy of the contract we showed Sven. It makes Dag the big winner if the partnership collapses."

"Go on, you have the floor."

"We still didn't figure it out until this afternoon, when Dave got a package from Ken. This package had pictures plus a lot more," Steve lied. "This picture is Dave's favorite; the one showing you and Dagfin shaking hands at the Zurich airport. You were playing both ends, Fred. It wasn't Romano, it was you."

Dagfin was your man in Cabo San Lucas, and based upon what Sven said, it sounds like you controlled the majority of the Board of Directors in Zurich.

Fred's confidence started to crack. "This doesn't prove a thing. I needed the Swiss to win. I bet on them."

"No Fred, that was your cover" Steve explained. "Either way the profits from the drug money ended up in the same accounts. Romano's accountant, Bob Murphy, initially transferred the funds directly into Mario's accounts in the West Indies. When you found out Dave won the golf match, you had Dagfin wire transfer the money into the Swiss accounts just in time for Dagfin pay Mario the $988 Million. Dag's computer and the computer recovered at the drug bust will bear this out."

"What does this have to do with me?" Fred said defiantly. "I know nothing about any of this."

"We just need to follow the money," Steve replied. "It's interesting that the FBI could only trace the money when Dag made the transfer to buy out Mario. We still cannot break the encryption code Murphy used to transfer the money at the Fairgrounds. We will. We have his computer, so it's only a matter of time."

"Does that mean that they would have gotten away with it if Buzz had won?" Bradford said aloud.

"That's right, Dave. If Buzz wins, they probably get away with it."

"Clutch putt," Buzz said to with a grin.

" _Convenient miss, Buzz," Dave thought._

"I still don't see how this has anything to do with me," Fred insisted. "What do I gain if Buzz had won?"

"If Buzz won, you and Romano have the casino and the money," Steve answered.

Hector interrupted. "You also have a friend in the governor's mansion. You wanted Buzz to win the match so bad, you had Bill Martin hire Jesus and his friends to kidnap Mary. "

"That's crazy. Dave, I would never hurt Mary. Who says so?"

"Jesus," Hector answered.

"Jesus is dead," Fred retorted.

" _How did Fred know Jesus is dead? I wondered._

"Almost, but not quite," Hector replied. "He lost a lot of blood plus other parts of his anatomy, but he is talking. He has been cooperative."

"I want a lawyer," Fred said. "You can't prove a thing."

"I'm afraid we can, Fred. We have a lot more and I'm sure Sven and Dagfin will decide to cooperate," Steve replied as two FBI agents escorted Fred outside, moments before the ladies came back from the powder room.

"Are we ready to go?" Mary asked.

"Where's Fred?" Judy asked. "His shoes are still here."

Chapter 9

The Parking Lot

There were only six people left from the original party of 12 when they left the restaurant, not including Chris who had not come back inside. Bradford assumed she was probably waiting in the car.

Judy was told Fred had been taken downtown for questioning about Mario. Steve offered to drive her car downtown. Mary offered to go along but recognized that Dave was squeezing her arm for a reason. Judy was confused, but accepted Steve's offer.

"I'll explain later," Dave whispered to Mary. "Wait here with Jill while we get the cars."

"Well, Dave, this has been quite a day," Buzz said as they walked to their cars.

"You can say that again," Dave replied. "I still want to know if you intentionally missed that putt."

"It doesn't matter now, Dave. You're the new Club Champion and next week I expect you to give me one or two strokes."

"No way," Dave blurted out, but stopped in mid sentence when a man jumped out from between two cars, his gun waving back and forth. Bradford was scared. It is one thing to be shot at from a distance by a marksman you can't see; it is much different when you are looking directly into the barrel of a gun. He was terrified.

"Which one of you is Buzz Peters?"

The man's face was disfigured and he leaned on a cane for support, but all Bradford could see was the gun.

"I am," Dave responded automatically.

"I am," Buzz replied. "You must be Diego. I want to tell you ..."

"Shut up, I don't want to hear it. I've been waiting for this for three years." Bradford could see his finger starting to squeeze the trigger, but he couldn't move. He was frozen with fear.

"Hold It, DEA" Chris shouted as she came up on his right. "Drop your weapon."

That was all Buzz and Dave needed. They both dove for cover as shots rang out. They laid under a car for what seemed forever, but was probably only a few seconds.

"You can get up now, guys. He's dead."

"Is that you, Chris?" Dave asked. He was still in shock.

"It's me, Dave. Come on and get out from under the car. The owner wants to leave." She was kidding. Bradford was still shaking.

Buzz stared at Diego lying face down in a pool of blood and Chris standing there with a gun at her side. He finally walked over and put his arms around her and hugged her; "Thanks!"

Mary and Jill came running over and threw themselves at Buzz and Dave. "Is everyone all right? Are you shot?"

Buzz and Dave looked at each other and shrugged. "Yes, but not since this afternoon," they said together.

The laughter disguised the relief everyone felt. Buzz and Dave had seen the man's face and knew they were only moments from death. Who knows if he would have shot Dave for good measure?

"Chris, what happened? How did you know he was here?"

"I didn't, Dave. I was just being careful. I saw somebody duck behind a car when I came outside earlier. I pretended to leave but I crept back and waited. I didn't see him again until he stood up and aimed his gun at you."

"Did you need to shoot him?" Jill asked.

Chris hesitated before answering. Killing someone is not something she wanted to talk about or explain.

"I had no choice, Jill. When the guys dove for cover the man turned and took two or three shots at me. The last three shots were mine."

"I'm sure Jill didn't mean it the way it sounded, Chris," Dave said. "I for one am glad you did, because when he came up to us and asked which one of us was Buzz, we pointed at each other."

Buzz chuckled. "You can laugh about it now, Dave, but that's probably why he shot at both of us this afternoon. He didn't know which one was me."

"I'm sorry, Chris," Jill said. "I must be nervous or something, because I sure didn't mean to question if you should have shot him. You saved Buzz' life."

"That's okay, Jill. I think everyone could use a good night's sleep. It's been quite a day."

As the sirens came closer, Bradford thought, "amen to that."

### Epilogue

"It's sad," Mary said as she rubbed lotion onto Dave's back. "This is such a beautiful place, but not for us. There are too many bad memories associated with this place."

"You're right, Mary. But I'm glad you came with me this trip. It kind of provides some closure to a violent chapter in our lives."

They lay silent as they listened to the waves crashing onto the beach and looked up at the skyline of Cabo San Lucas. Dave stared at the restaurant balcony where Ken had fallen to his death and reflected on the events surrounding the match play golf tournament with Buzz Peters. Was that only nine months ago?

The wedding was splendid. Mary and Dave said their vows at a chapel at the Tween Waters Inn on Captiva Island, Fl before departing on a three week cruise to the Greek Isles. Ken was gone, so Dave asked Buzz to be his best man. It was somewhat ironic, but also fitting. Jill was the maid of honor. 300 friends and family helped the Bradford's celebrate.

So much had happened since then. Buzz had become a great friend and his brief affair with Mary completely forgiven. More importantly, the FBI had given him a fresh start in exchange for his testimony against Bill and Mario. It was amazing the risks he had taken.

Joe Martinez was allowed to die a hero in the public eye, but his campaign manager and best friend was convicted of several crimes and was now serving 10–20 years in Atlanta Federal prison. Buzz was the star witness.

Mario was convicted of multiple counts of drug smuggling and money laundering based upon the testimony of his former employees, Sam and Ron. Their testimony about their rip-off of the two bags of heroin became front-page news, particularly when the scuba diver, ex FBI Special Agent Buzz Peters, told his story. Buzz was a media hero, a role he didn't particularly relish. This was a part of his past that he was trying to forget. No mention was made of the episode with Jesus and Diego. All the parties, except Buzz, were dead. There was nothing to gain.

Fred was convicted of wire fraud and money laundering based largely upon testimony from Dagfin Jensen and supported by the wire transfers and information in the laptop computers captured at the Fairgrounds. It was a complicated prosecution and the type of case that was difficult for juries to grasp. Several jurors thought it was a high stakes computer game. Fred had a bevy of good lawyers and was appealing his conviction. Dagfin had been returned to Zurich where he was convicted and is serving 1–3 years for wire fraud.

Dave's major regret is that the Fred was never prosecuted for the murder of Ken, despite a plethora of circumstantial evidence. There was just not enough evidence. The prosecutor's theory was that it had been Ken's bad luck to run into Fred and Dagfin at the airport, which tied everything together. Dag testified they saw Ken in the terminal taking pictures of them. Fred had been irate. The camera had never been found; suggesting the person, possibly Jesus or Carlos, that pushed Ken off the balcony, had taken it. The attorney general's office concluded that they could not prove that a murder was committed and Fred would be acquitted. "Let's wait to see if we can get more evidence," the prosecutor had said. "There's no statute of limitations for murder."

Jesus only lived a few weeks before dying of the wounds that Diego had inflicted, including a radical circumcision. Dave laughed as he recalled Steve and Hector recounting the story of why Jesus was so cooperative. It was the kind of cross examination that lives forever in the lore of law enforcement;

"Jesus, you may be dying, tell us what you know. Who hired you to kidnap Mary?"

"Go to hell."

"That's where you will be going, if you die without confessing. Don't you want to make peace with your God?"

"Go to hell."

"Jesus, can you see what I am holding? I think it's your penis, but I'm not sure. Can you identify it?"

"Yes, it's mine."

"Which way does it go, Jesus? Can you tell me?"

"Damn you, get the doctor. Sew it back on."

"They would, Jesus, but I haven't told the doctors that we found this. Maybe, if you were more cooperative and told us who hired you, we could talk to the doctors."

"It was Martin, Bill Martin. I have been doing jobs for his boss, Martinez, for many years. They paid me $10,000."

Twenty minutes later they had a complete statement.

When Bradford first heard the story, he had taken the bait, and asked; "Did the surgery work?"

Steve and Hector started laughing and couldn't stop. "That's the funny part, Dave. The doctor comes out of surgery a couple hours later and tells the detectives it didn't take." "If only we could have started a little sooner, even an hour. The graft might have worked."

The doctor never figured out what was so funny. He probably thought he was a natural comedian.

Bradford decided he laughed at that story because there was so little else to laugh at. Almost all the friends they had met at the club five years ago are now in jail. Ken is dead, and many lives were ruined.

Not everything turned out bad. The $49M transferred into Dave's account was paid directly from the Swiss funds. Sven didn't object and the FBI didn't care.

Dave loaned a chunk of the money to Buzz, who bought out his former boss, Bill Martin. Buzz now owned the golf club they played at, plus the Interstate-4 real estate development he was still working on. Buzz was doing well.

Pedro formed a Mexican employee group and became partners with Sven in the Cabo casino operation. There were no more cash shortages.

Romano was dead but there were others that took his place. The drug business hardly noticed he was gone.

Joe Martinez' name remained on the ballot and he received 23% of the vote for governor. His campaign asked for a recount.

Dave and Mary are happy and their relationship has grown stronger as a result of the challenges they faced. Mary is still upset about finishing second to Jill in the club Tennis Championship last year but swears that this year she will do better.

Next week Dave begins defense of his club Golf Championship. Buzz isn't sure if he will play this year, but Dave is pushing him to enter, for Ken's sake. Ken would have enjoyed last year's match.

"Dave, isn't that Chris walking toward us?" Mary said pointing towards the pool.

"You're right, what's she doing here, and who's that with his arm around her?"

"It can't be," Mary said, grabbing Dave's arm.

"It is," he replied getting up to visit their friends.

"Hi Dave, hi Mary," I guess we owe you an explanation.

"Hi Ken."

Roland Garros

Another Thriller by Jim Plautz

Coming Soon!

The five minute wait in the tunnel seemed to last forever. Both women had dressed in separate areas of the locker room and barely acknowledged each other as they waited. It was more than pre-match nerves. It wasn't gamesmanship. These two young women did not like each other. The icy relationship was apparent to the television cameras and was picked up on by the commentators. Bud Collins suggested the match be rescheduled for Siberia.

Lisa Bradford walked out of the tunnel onto Philippe Chartrier court smiling and waving to the adoring crowd. Ball boys carried her tennis bag and a beautiful bouquet of roses. The crowd stood and cheered.

Moments later the French crowd greeted Ambre with a chorus of boos and jeers. Only last week she had been the darling of France. Now she was seen as a villain and the associate of the Agbu, the terrorist who had nearly succeeded in blowing up Roland Garros. There was no smile on Ambre's face. She was all business.

The winner would be French Ladies Open Champion.

Lisa's older brother, Pete, would play Carlos tomorrow, for the French Open Men's Championship.

The first bomb went off moments later and Paris' oldest bridge, often called the walking bridge, crumbled into the muddy waters of the Seine River, taking 14 pedestrians to their death. The second bomb exploded just after the first at the d'Orsay art gallery and museum. Priceless art works from Monet, Manet and other French Impressionists disappeared in smoke. The third bomb exploded at Police headquarters in downtown Paris. 15 people were killed immediately and three were wounded.

The crowd heard none of this, their attention focused on a small plane flying towards Roland Garros stadium. They strained to read the banner proclaiming "Basque Independence". The crowd gasped as two F-4 fighter jets swooped down on the plane and four military helicopters closed in from the North. The instructions to the pilots were clear; "Blow him up unless he turns in 10 seconds." The plane slowly turned away, followed by the military escort. The crowd was still standing when the huge explosion shook the stadium. The blast came from the park just outside Roland Garros.

Agbu, leader of the ETA, the military arm of the Basque Independence movement, took advantage of the chaos to circumvent security and enter Roland Garros. Agbu was beyond making political statements. Agbu sought revenge against the entire Bradford family.

### Back Cover

OUT OF BOUNDS is a gripping novel of Corporate Finance, Drugs, and Politics, told in a backdrop of a highly competitive Golf Tournament. What starts out to be a two-day, 36 hole Match Play Club Championship between former friends, becomes a high stakes, life and death struggle with far-reaching consequences. The author has created a cast of intriguing, real life characters and themes.

"You don't need to play golf to enjoy this book, but it helps."

"The character development is excellent."

"The plot has many twists and turns; very much like golf."

Jim Plautz is a businessman, avid golfer and tennis player and father of three. Originally from Wisconsin, Jim now makes his home in Tampa, Florida with his lovely wife, Rosann. This is his first novel.

"I tried to structure a novel similar to the Richard Frey (The Day Trader, Silent Partner, etc.) books that are action thrillers set in a business environment. If I came close, I was successful"

