Having Fun with Dycke and Payne Ch. 13

Payne yelled, "Is there any possibility that I can get some help over here?"

Dycke looked at Payne and said, "How many colors on their in the rainbow?"

Payne yelled back at him and said, "A lot!"

Dycke said, "You have ten minutes to pick one, as your color palette. After that time, the interior of your plane is going to be forest green."

Payne screeched, "You would not do that to me."

Dycke walked over to one of the fabric boards, picked up a piece of green leather, and handed it to Payne. He said, "If they make leather any darker than this is, I will get that, just for you. I will have them paint the exterior of the aircraft this color, also. You have ten minutes starting now."

Payne looked at Dycke and said, "You are not getting any, until after the wedding."

Dycke looked at her and said, "Okay," and walked away, saying nine and one half minutes.

Payne looked around and said, "Someone, help me!"

Sandra came to Payne's rescue. She told her that the interior of the aircraft is not like the interior of the home. It has to be utilitarian. You do not want it to be pink or yellow. Light blue is very calming, for the external surfaces, and carpeting that will brighten up the flooring using a blue and pink tone, if she wished. She pulled out a book and showed her several aircraft designs with blue interiors and Payne agreed to use the light blue on the fuselage, and a light rust color, for the chairs, just as she had seen in another photo.

Sandra told Payne that she would take care of the carpeting and the fixtures for the bathroom, and that she would be well pleased. She promised Payne, while she was flying to Paris, she would have Dycke signing papers for every nut and bolt that was going in to the G5 upgrade. He was going to be signing papers, until his fingers cramped. This time, it was time for Payne to grin.

Dycke came over to Payne and said, "Your time is up."

"I am having Sandra add one more upgrade to my aircraft. They are installing pylons for heat seeking missiles. One day my airplane will be behind yours, and one missile will accidently fire. Sandra will trace it to an electrical malfunction, and I will be a wealthy, merry widow. That will be my last practical joke, on Dycke Schneider."

"Can we go back to the hotel room now, so I can start plucking hairs, one by one?"

Payne replied, "Okay, but no sex."

Dycke looked at her and said, "I waited eighteen years, I can wait two months."

"You bastard and I am not talking about your mother."

62. What Men Do, When Their Women Are Away? They Work.

The G650 lifted gracefully into the air and turned northeast using global positioning satellites to guide it to Paris. As they were advised to do, the women had dressed in very comfortable clothing and upon reaching cruising altitude, of 51,000 feet, the lights were turned off and everyone went to sleep, for the eight and half hour flight to Paris. They would touch down at 8:15a.m.Paris local time.

Three minutes after the G650, a G5 lifted off, for a one-hour ride, to Charleston. While the women were going to Paris to spend money, the men were going to be at home, earning it.

Chad Schneider could not have been happier, with this turn of events, except of course, if the dress was in Hong Kong. The two contract deadlines his company had coming due were critical and the potential income from both of them was enormous. He hoped the girls stayed in Paris through the week, so he could get this done, with the other men and women on his staff.

Piker Temple and Art Shell were up to their ears in research papers, looking into the inner workings of T.E.I. The company looked solid; however, finding out about its corporate structure was near impossible. Regardless of whom they asked, or what favors they called in, the answer was always the same, "Information not available."

Dycke's uncle, Turnquest, called him at six o'clock, as he promised. He only spoke for a short time and said, "Dycke, from what I have learned so far, get ready to write a very large check. I still have to verify a few things, with a few very highly placed individuals, but if they verify what I have already found out this company is as good as you think it is."

Dycke thanked his uncle and relayed his message to Piker and Art.

Thursday morning, Angus called Dycke and asked, "Why is Bob not answering his phone? Did Fiona break both his arms?"

Dycke laughed at Angus and said, "No Angus, Bob did not get that lucky. He is on his way to Paris, surrounded by nine women, to buy Fiona a wedding dress."

Angus roared with laughter. "He probably wishes he was in jail again."

"He has said that many times, in the last few weeks, Angus"

"He asked me for some information about a company called T.E.I., do you know about this?"

"Yes, Angus, he asked you about this company, for me. I am thinking about buying it but I could not find anything out about the management. I could not ferret out any of the names in the corporate structure. Did you?"

"Yes Dycke I was, and there is a reason no one could find out anything about them. They are former top-level spies, like Bob and I. Not low-level readers or intermediate level scouts. They are the cream of the crop. They are the managers, the deep cover agents, and several former heads of agencies. The company is solid. No one messes with it, because of the people in it. Therefore, my boy, if you have the chance to purchase enough stock to own it, my advice to you is 'buy it.' Then, sit back and enjoy the profits these people will bring in for you."

"Thank you very much, Angus. I appreciate what you done for me. I will make sure, Bob gets in touch, with you soon. Both of you will enjoy a share in those profits."

Dycke hung up and immediately called his uncle on the scrambler. When Turnquest joined him, Dycke told him what he had learned and asked his opinion.

Turnquest said, "I can report I have just verified this same information. Our Fiona, will even recognize the head of their operation, when we meet him."

Dycke thought for one second and said, "When are we going to meet him, uncle?"

"At your wedding, Dycke; I am being invited, correct?"

Dycke laughed and said, "Uncle, we have reserved the entire second row for you and your bevy of beauties."

"That is very kind of you, Dycke. However, I will only be requiring four seats. Our new associate and I will require one each and one each for our escorts.

"Uncle, thank you very much, for your hard work. As soon as the invitations are printed, the first four will be sent to you."

"Thank you, Dycke, we shall talk again soon."

Dycke hung up and called his father-in-law. Piker picked up his office phone, and said, "Go-ahead Dycke."

"Dad, do whatever you have to do and get me 50.1% or more of T.E.I. stock or options as soon as possible."

"Dycke, you know who you are dealing with now. Are you sure you can handle yourself against those people?"

"I do not think that would be a problem. They are business people now and they work out in the real world, not the underworld of espionage. I have three people on my team, who can help me, if I need any help."

"Remind me never to play poker with you, chess neither. You are going to write a check for three hundred and fifty million dollars on a hunch about people, and a wedding dress. Where do you get these brass balls, son?"

"Dad, remember, I have read everything from Plato's "Republic" to today's New Republic. The best part is I remember most of what I have read, and I can put it to good use. If my uncle and Angus McFarland are correct, T.E.I. is a dream waiting to happen.""I hope you are right Dycke. I would not want to be playing poker against you, if you are bluffing."

"How about we play chess, dad, you said you can play?"

"Yes, I do. However, I can only play the last week in August and the first week in September. The remainder of my year is booked."

"Very funny dad, I will tell Payne you said that, and ask her if she would prefer, if I played chess with you, or get her pregnant. I cannot imagine what her answer would be?"

Takeover rumors started floating around the money markets around the globe, but no one could find out what funds were backing it or what company was the target. Fund Managers denied any involvement, and Hedge Managers said the company was too small to warrant their time.

Everyone in the T.E.I.'s hierarchy declared ignorance of the situation, and stated that they had not traded any of their shares. The titular head of T.E.I. said to the group, "We are being approached, by an unknown source. Use all your assets to find out who, and what they might want, and do not act, without my authority."

Lord Whitbred put down the phone, and called an associate in London. He asked her if anyone had been making inquiries about his company. He was surprised, when the answer came back quickly, in the positive. Now all he had to do was follow the money, back to the person, asking for information. He did not have to worry about doing that, because his phone rang, and his secretary said to him the "New Majority Owner of T.E.I. was on the phone, and wished to speak to him."

Lord Whitbred picked up the phone and asked, "Who is this?"

"Seeing that I possibly own enough equity in the company, at this moment, to control it, I believe it is my right to ask you that question."

"I see we are getting off on the wrong foot."

"If that is the way you would like it, I will call a Board of Directors meeting, Monday morning, in Charleston, South Carolina, at 10a.m., at which time the old board will be dismissed and a new board will be put in place. It really is a shame. I like spies, old ones, and new ones. I have quite a few of them working for me. I would like to have continued that relationship for many years into the future."

"How did you get my phone number?"

"A gentleman I know runs an oriental restaurant called, 'The Lotus Blossom.' He gave it to me."

Lord Whitbread laughed and said, "How is Angus these days?"

"I do not know what he looked like when you knew him, however, I would say that he is a little larger than life, now."

"My name is Lord Jeffrey Whitbred. I will be looking forward to meeting you one day." A light on his desk started to flash and he asked, "May I interrupt this conversation, for one moment please?"

His phone called to London had already borne fruit, and his contact told him the questions came from Switzerland and a retired lawyer, Turnquest Schneider. He picked up the line again and said, "May I assume I am talking to Turnquest Schneider?"

"Close Lord Whitbred, but not correct. Turnquest is my uncle. My name is Dycke Schneider. That is spelled D-Y-C-K-E, the Dutch spelling. If your company did not make a very special wedding dress, I would never have realized I owned twenty-three percent of T.E.I. already, and this conversation would not be taking place. However, one of my dearest friends needed that dress, in a size 8. In order to find one, we had to call the manufacturer. We found the initials T.E.I. on a wedding gown in Atlanta. My future father-in-law did some investigating and saw the company as a possible acquisition target. I made that offer this afternoon, and we received enough positive response that I nowown at least fifty-one percent of the company. I hope in the future we can become great business partners and friends."

"Dycke, if all you needed was a wedding dress, you could have called me, and I would have had one made for your friend, and given it to her for free. It would have saved you a ton of money."

"What fun would that have been, Lord Whitbred. We would never have had this conversation, and a chance to meet?"

"Dycke, I am going to ask you a very impolite question, but I have to a feeling about you, which I very rarely get. Please do not be offended when I ask you for your age."

"I am not offended Lord Whitbred. I am eighteen years old. I graduated high school this past February."

"Oh, bugger! I knew it. I have had the opportunity to deal with several of your sort, and they always wind up breaking my heart, in one way or another."

"Lord Whitbred, I am not going to marry you, I am just going into business with you. Hopefully, you will continue to run the operation, as you have done in the past, with little or no input from me."

"I am glad to hear that last part, Dycke. However, my previous remark was guided towards several of my former staff members. Some started with me, at ages younger than you, and served their country brilliantly, only to lose their lives, or be mustered out of the service, by shortsighted bureaucrats, whose only thought was the bottom line."

"Sir, now it is my turn to ask an embarrassing question. Did you ever induct a fourteen-year-old girl, into MI 6?"

"Fiona?"

"Lord Whitbred, how would you like to give a bride away?"

"Dycke, I have not seen or heard from Fiona, in over nine years. Why would she want me to give her away?"

"Sir, as you know, her father, and brother were killed in the Falklands. When we talk about her early life, the only man she talks about is you. Everyone else in her life is either a fellow agent or someone she spied on. Somehow, every conversation we have about those days ends up having two names in it: Marti's and 'his lordship.' I did not put that together, until just now. I will have to clear it, with her future husband, Bob Short, but I think it would be absolutely, the icing on the cake for her, if you would agree to do it."

"Dycke, it would be my honor. Where is she now?"

"Sir, she should be halfway across the Atlantic Ocean, on her way to Paris. She has a fitting scheduled at your Paris store, this afternoon. The dress is supposed to be there waiting for her. My future bride, along with our mothers, Bob, and their security agents will be there, with them."

"Dycke, she is going to be in for an awful letdown. The dress is going to be irreparable."

"Sir, do you remember what happens when Fiona becomes upset?"

"Yes Dycke, I am quite familiar with her reactions. I bred them into her, and I have the team of women that can control her every breathing moment, when she is in this salon. I will have my people set up cameras to capture it on film for posterity."

"Do you think they can get my bride into a dress, also?"

"They will not leave Paris, without wedding dresses being made for them, Dycke. There will be dresses for the mothers and for the bridesmaids, including all of the security females."

"Sir, it took Bob five hours to get Fiona to buy one dress to wear to Paris. It would take a battalion, of your S.A.S. people, to get Marti into a dress."

"What did you do Dycke, go into the retirement files of MI 6, and see who was available?"

Dycke laughed and said, "No sir, Fiona and Marti came as a package deal from my great uncle. When he passed away, I inherited his entire security force, and I am extremely happy that I did."

"Dycke, is Marti there?"

"Yes sir, she is in the outer office."

"Call her into the room and give her the phone, but do not tell her who is on this end. Be sure that you are not around, when she gets off the phone. She may be perturbed with you, for letting her be caught off-guard."

"Sir, Marti has a very long memory. The last time I did something like this to her, she ran me fourteen miles. She will kill me this time."

"Dycke, it will be good for your character."

"Sir, as Marti often says to me, when she is teaching me self-defense, 'this is going to hurt me, a lot more than it is going to hurt you.'"

"Get her on the phone Dycke, and get out of that building."

Dycke put the phone on hold and walked out of the office. He went to each person individually, told him or her to take out their cell phones, and be prepared to take some pictures of Marti, when she goes into the office. He walked over to Piker's desk, and said that his phone conversation had gone well. The former head of T.E.I. wanted to speak to Marti, about some security arrangements for their group.

Marti reached for the phone, but Dycke stopped her and asked her to take the phone in the other office, because he had to speak with Piker. When Marti was a few feet outside of Piker's office, Dycke's said, "Dad put your phone on speaker, take your cellphone, and be prepared to take some pictures of Marti. From what I was told, this should be extraordinary."

Marti picked up the phone and said, "Hello."

"Is this Ferdina and Nicholas' little girl, Martina Theresa Innocent?"

"Yes, and who the bloody hell is this?"

"Then stand at attention, Sergeant Major, and do it now!"

Marti instantly reverted to her training, as a British soldier, when recognizing an order from a superior officer. She nearly dropped the phone.

"We have become weak Sergeant Major, haven't we? This soft living is not doing your body any good. You could run only fourteen miles, with an eighteen-year-old boy. What happened, Sergeant Major, you cannot run any further? Sergeant Innocent, do they pay you, so much, in civilian life, that your wallet is holding your ass down? I am waiting for an answer Sergeant Major."

After being berated for several minutes, Marti realized she was standing at attention. She turned around and saw everyone taking pictures of her, and laughing. Then she saw Dycke waving goodbye, and running out of the office, with Gracie at his side. It dawned on her, that she had been tricked. The person, on the other end of the phone, was about to catch hell.

Marti asked, "Who is this? No, who were you, because when I get my hands, around your throat you are going to die a slow death."

"Martina, you must watch your temper. It always has the disadvantage of raising your blood pressure, and with your advancing age, we would hate to lose you."

"Got you, you son of a bitch. Your blood pressure speech has just given your away, your Lordship. I am still going to find you, and kill you for the shit you just pulled. First, I am going to kill Dycke for allowing you to do this to me."

"Martina, do you know how many pictures and stories I have about you, in our archives?"

"Your Lordship, do you remember your little tryst, with that secretary, in Kenya?"

"I am no longer in service to the crown, Martina."

"I am no longer in your service, your Lordship."

"Now that we have finished our little pissing contest, I am going to give you an order, and you are going to follow it to the letter. Is that understood Martina?"

"Yes, your Lordship."

"You will go to a bridal salon, today Martina. You will be measured completely from head to toe, for a Maid of Honor dress. You will have pictures taken, by a professional photographer, while you are wearing various colors to see if we can make you look like a woman, and not like warrior. Do you understand?"

"I will 'not' wear a dress."

"Martina, both your parents are still alive. I do suppose you would like to see them, again. I am not asking, I am telling you to get this done today. I have not had to hurt anyone, in a very long time. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, your Lordship. I will get it done, in the morning, right after I kill Dycke."

"I'm sorry, Martina, you cannot hurt him. He owns fifty-one percent of my company. One word from him or his heirs, and I would lose everything. So be a good girl, run along, and play nice."

"Yes, your Lordship."

Marti hung up the phone gently, stood up straight and yelled, "Where is

that son of a bitch, I am going to kill him."

Everyone in the office laughed, until laughing hurt. Finally, Piker told her that Dycke had gone home, to put on his running shoes, and was waiting for her there.

Marti grabbed her bag and started to leave, when Piker asked her, "Are you leaving me alone?"

She looked at him and said, "I thought you were finished for the day?