Authors: Michael Balkind
Tags: #thriller, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Sports stories
Reid went up to the lobby with Joel, Stu and the others on his tail. The room had the subtle scent of fresh flowers. To Reid’s surprise, Shane, Joan, Hunter, Jay and Buck were sitting there, waiting for him. “Hey, guys,” he said. “How’d you hit ‘em?” Hunter asked. “Let’s just say it was interesting out there today.” “That good, huh?” she said. “Well, if you must know, I started lousy and ended well. If I play the rest of the week like I played the last nine, I can take the tournament. We’ll see.” He turned to Jay. “What do you think about tonight’s festivities? Should we attend or not? As much as I prefer not, I really should be there.”
“I’d prefer not as well, but if they’ll make room for all of us, I guess we can go.”
“I’ll go ask the maitre d’. I’ll be right back.” He started to walk and the team went right with him. “Not even a moment’s peace, huh guys?” “Sorry, Reid, you’re stuck with us,” Joel said. “Yeah, I know, like glue,” Reid muttered, getting a little fed up. “Superglue,” Stu emphasized. Reid found the maitre d’ in the dining room and asked if there was room enough for his party. “The only way I can fit you in is at three tables back there.” The maitre d’ pointed. “That’ll be fine, thank you,” Reid said. The maitre d’ made the changes in his table assignment book. “All set,” he said. “Thanks,” Reid said. He turned and walked back to the lobby with the guys on his heels. “They’ve given us three tables in the back,” he told the group. That should be more then enough room for all of us. Dinner starts at 7. The entertainment starts at 8 and ends at 10. I need to go back to the hotel, and get a massage. Ladies, if you want to come back to the hotel I’ll treat you to facials, manicures and pedicures.”
Joan, Hunter and Shane all perked up. Shane said, “I’ve never turned down an offer like that before, and I’m not going to start now. Come to think of it, I’ve never gotten an offer like that. Come on, girls!”
Walking into the hotel a short time later, Jay said, “Everyone please be back here ready to leave by 6:45. I’d like to be discreet tonight, and a late entrance by a party of our size would draw too much attention.”
They all split up and went their separate ways. Reid, Buck and Jay went for massages. It was a little awkward getting a rubdown with bodyguards in the room watching.
The girls could not have been happier with their pampering. Joan got her hair done along with her manicure and pedicure. Luckily, Reid had thought to have the women bring their evening attire to the hotel, just in case.
Everyone was totally relaxed when they met in the lobby at 6:45. They went back to the club and entered the dining room without fanfare. During dinner, key executives from the hosting company welcomed everyone to the event and spoke about how proud they were to be sponsoring such a wonderful week of PGA golf.
Bill Taylor then went to the podium and, after thanking the sponsors, he thanked Tom Burnett, the president of the club, for hosting the tournament, making sure the course was in impeccable condition and providing such excellent weather. After a quick laugh from the crowd, he spoke about the interesting season the tour was having. He informed the crowd that there had been more tiebreakers than in any other season in PGA history. He said that every player in the room should be proud of such a competitive season with such close finishes. He spoke about how good it felt to be the commissioner of such a fine organization.
“I didn’t think that there was anything that could enhance my pride in the PGA until I witnessed something earlier today.” He asked Reid and Howard to come up to the podium. He described the difficult issues of the threats and the hardships that Reid was facing. He said, “Folks, I did not inform these gentlemen of what I am about to do. I was in a back office of the locker room earlier, writing this speech, when I overheard a remarkable few minutes of inspirational dialogue between these two men and a locker room full of PGA players. Luckily, I had my mini voice recorder with me and was able to tape it.” He held up the device. “If the two of you don’t mind, I’d like to play the tape right now for everyone to hear.”
Reid and Howard looked at each other and shrugged. Reid joked, “I hope you at least edited out some of my more colorful language.” “No Reid, this is the real you. Okay?” “I guess.” “Folks, let me set the stage,” Bill continued. “Reid has just walked into the locker room. As we know, he has had a difficult week and a half. With a lunatic on his tail and pressure from the media, he now feels like the players are not backing him. Listen to this.” Bill placed the recorder near the microphone and pressed play.
“Can I please have everybody’s attention? Look guys, I know
you’re all trying to give me room, but this is ridiculous…”
The tape rolled on, playing the rest of the locker room conversation. When it was finished, everyone in the room rose in a standing ovation. Bill let the applause continue for a full minute, then came back to the microphone, wiping tears from his eyes. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m a little choked up. I’ve listened to that tape three times already and it’s gotten to me each time. Folks, these are remarkable men. I feel so proud that they are members of the PGA. Let them be examples to us all. Reid, Howard, good luck this week. Reid, I’m very glad you decided to play and as Howard said, it is the right thing to do. We can’t let terrorism run our lives into the ground; don’t mistake it, folks: This is terrorism.
“Jay.” Bill looked at the back table and spoke directly to Jay Scott. “Please get this nut before he hurts Reid or anyone else. The PGA and the country need Reid Clark alive.” He walked over and embraced Reid, then Howard.
Once again, the crowd rose from their seats and applauded as Reid and Howard went to their seats. Reid got hugs and handshakes from everyone at his table.
Bill finished by welcoming Dennis Manak, the popular comedian renowned for his edgy political satire. Immediately following Dennis would be an acoustic folk-rock performance by Donny Peret. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the show. Dennis was hilarious of course, making fun of hitting a little white ball as a profession. He threw a few quick jabs at Reid saying, “I thought this was pro golf, not pro wrestling. What was that on the range the other day? And the threats, maybe we should call it Gangsta Golf. What do you think?” he asked the crowd.
They all booed and he held up his hands and said, “Sorry, you’re right. Alright, let’s get some music crankin’ up here. But before Donny comes up I have one last question for Reid. Are you going to bring an extra pair of pants to the tournament tomorrow? You know, in case you get a hole in one?”
The audience applauded once again as Donny Peret took Dennis’ place on the stage. Peret sat on a lone stool centered on the dark stage with a soft spotlight shining on him from above. He played many of his fans favorite tunes. His acoustic guitar music was mesmerizing, and the audience sang his hit songs along with him. He finished as requested by 10 p.m., but in true concert fashion, the audience gave a standing ovation and yelled “encore” until he asked Bill if it was okay to continue. Bill walked to the podium and said, “I hate breaking my own rules, but you all look like you might riot if I say no. Okay, Donny,
rock on.”
The festivities ended at last and the guests dispersed. Once outside, after goodnight hugs, Reid’s group split up into the two vans, one going to the hotel, the other to Bedford. Jay said, “You were right, Reid, I’m glad we came. It was fun, and you certainly needed to be here. That was some tape. I’m really proud to be working for you.”
Shane walked over and they gave each other a hug and kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, babe. Sleep well,” he said. “You too. This was fun. I’m very proud of you.” “Aw, shucks,” he kidded. “Hey, I love you,” he said and gave her another quick kiss. “Now get out of here.” “I love you too. Goodnight.” Reid drove the van back to the hotel where he, his bodyguards, Jay and Buddy went straight up to the suite. The other golfers waiting at the elevator approached Reid, shook his hand and congratulated him. They all wished each other luck.
When they got to the room, Reid announced that 5 a.m. was wake-up time. He wanted to be at the club by 6:30. He called for a wake-up call, got in bed, closed his eyes and imagined he was teeing off from the first tee. Completely exhausted, he fell asleep before any worrisome thoughts crept into his head.
Reid was ready to leave for the club by 6 a.m. It was tournament time. Time to focus, even if the outcome of this tournament was going to be different than others. Usually the stakes were: win or lose, increased or decreased tour standings, big money or not. This time, it was life or death. Or was it? In spite of his worn nerves, he thought he was ready. This might be the last tournament he would ever play. Was he going to die? Get maimed? Be paralyzed? If so he wanted the world to remember he was the best.
He went through his game day regimen at the club. His tee time wasn’t until 9:30, and he was playing with Richard Edwards. Rich was having a good season, consistently finishing in the top five, with a couple of second place finishes, one in a tiebreaker.
Reid spent some time stretching and hitting balls, then rested a little before his start time. As usual, he stayed clear of other golfers. He didn’t go near the first tee until 15 minutes before his time. When he was announced, the applause was deafening. After a couple of practice swings, he stepped up to his ball and thought, Okay Reid, it’s showtime. He took a deep breath and swung the club. His drive was short and faded into the left rough. It was safe and playable, but a disappointment nonetheless.
Once again, it was awkward playing while surrounded by guards. He hit some good shots and some not so well, but no disasters. He finished the day two shots behind the leader. Satisfied with his round, he knew he needed to improve the next day. That is, if he really wanted to win.
He spent a quiet evening with Shane, Buck, Jay, Hunter and Joan. They ordered room service and after dinner, the men enjoyed cigars on the balcony. When they went back in, Reid announced, “I hate to be a party pooper, but I need to get some sleep. See you all tomorrow.” He hugged and kissed the “girls”. “Guys, see you at 5,” he said to the guards as he went to his room.
Unsuccessfully, he tried to block all thoughts of the threat from his mind. With each day, his level of fear had escalated, and it became harder and harder to concentrate on golf.
He sat on the bed with his feet on the floor, trying to meditate. Allowing his body to loosen up and his mind to wander, he actually slipped into a state of tranquility. He emerged completely relaxed. Well, not quite completely, but at the moment, even partially was an accomplishment. He lay back and slowly resumed his thoughts of golf until sleep came.
On Friday, Reid played his round with Mickey Fels, an Englishman.
They had been casual friends since Reid joined the tour. By the fourth hole, a wave of new energy washed over Reid. Despite all the negative things that had been going on in his life and all the worries that had been tripping him up lately, he finally managed to let them go and just relax. His concentration came back. He body felt good and his mind seemed to put everything but the game out of his thoughts. He found his rhythm and moved into the zone.
At the fifth tee, he stepped up to take his turn. He took a deep breath and looked down the fairway to where he wanted to send the ball. He adjusted his grip and prepared to swing back. Suddenly a shot rang out. Reid dropped to the ground in panic as the team scrambled to surround him. He felt Joel’s long body land heavily on top of him, creating a human blanket.
Screams erupted from the crowd. Spectators scattered, some diving to the ground, others ducking behind trees. There was complete pandemonium. After a few moments, Stu yelled, “Relax everyone. It was only a car backfiring.” Reid closed his eyes and sighed. After Joel stood up, Reid got up slow ly and brushed the grass and dirt off himself. The bodyguards looked at each other with big grins. Seeing them, Reid began to chuckle. The laugh was infectious and spread through the men and even into the gallery.
“Okay,” Reid commented, “so much for being in the zone. I guess we can call that a trial run. Guys, thank you. I’m still shaking a little, but I’m impressed. You were quick. Now we need to get back to golf.” Reid turned to Mickey and said, “Sorry. Are you all right? I’m sure if you need a moment, everyone will understand.”
“No, I’m okay, thanks. Got to admit though, that was a first. I’d think about suing for emotional distress,” he kidded in his strong Cockney accent, “but I volunteered to play with you today.” “Volunteered?” Reid asked. “Yeah. They asked for volunteers before they assigned someone. I’ve got to tell you, the list of volunteers was a mile long. You’ve got friends out here in spite of yourself, Reid.” “Thanks, that makes me feel pretty good. Ready to play?” “Ready when you are,” Fels said. Reid stretched a little and walked to the tee. The gallery applauded his perseverance. He took a practice swing, then hit a fantastic shot. Mickey walked up and hit a great shot as well.
Reid was a little shaky on his following shots and bogeyed the hole. He settled down afterward and by the next hole found his rhythm again.
He finished the day in third place, four shots behind the leader. All things considered, Reid was okay with his standing. If he could finish like he did today in spite of the huge distraction, he could win tomorrow as long as there were no unexpected interruptions.
That night he needed to relax. He decided they would have dinner at the Cobblestone, a small local pub, which was far enough away that there would be no players or press to bother them. Reid had spent most of his summer nights at the pub during his college years. It was located about half way between the golf course and Joan’s house, so the girls would have a short ride home after dinner. In spite of the relaxing evening, Reid was having trouble falling asleep. He couldn’t purge his mind of the horrible possibilities. What if this lunatic tries to kill me but fails and only injures me? What if I’m paralyzed or have to live on a respirator? No way, not me. I’d rather be dead!
Once again, Reid was awakened by the ring of the telephone. He fum bled for it and lifted the handset to his ear. As he mumbled, “Hello,” a deep voice said, “This is your last warning, if you win this tournament, you die.” Then he heard a click as the caller hung up.
An intense feeling of dread swept over him. He was going to be sick again. He sprang out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, he retched. He then sat slumped over on the tiled floor until his queasiness subsided. Trembling, he stood up and leaned against the wall for a moment, settling down. After splashing cold water on his face, he went to the living room. Mench, who was on duty, asked, “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “He just called with another threat.” Mench picked up his radio and sent an alert to Jay. Seconds later, Jay’s groggy voice came over the radio asking, “What is it?” Mench explained the call. “Who’s on duty besides you?” Jay asked, now fully alert. “Greeny’s just outside the door and Pat is on the balcony.” “Alright, I’m on my way. Send an alert to everyone except teams three and four. Wake up the others here at the hotel and station someone at every entrance. Have Stu call the phone company and check the call. Tell Joel to get over to the hotel switchboard. Our bug should have recorded it. Get the tape up to the suite immediately. And Mench, do not let Reid out of your sight.” “I’m on it.” Mench rapidly made all the calls. “Oh boy,” Reid sighed. “Another great start to a day.” “Listen to me, Reid…” started Mench. Reid cut him off. “I know, I know, you’re going to get him. You know what? I’m getting kind of tired of hearing it. You guys are no further along then when this whole thing started. I know you’re all the best, you’re certainly the most expensive, but why don’t you cut the crap and admit it. You’re clueless.”
Doing his best to keep his temper in check, Mench remained silent for a moment. With his face reddening, he said, “You know what, Reid? Maybe you’d be happier taking care of yourself. Maybe I should just leave. Maybe we should all leave. We’re with you 24 hours a day ready to take a bullet for you. You think we’re worthless? Well, good luck on your own, pal.” He got up and started to leave.
The door opened and Joel walked in. Mench passed him brashly. In a seething tone he said, “I’m done. See you on the next job. The one where the client appreciates the danger we’re in.”
“Hold it, Mench. What the hell are you talking about? Come back and sit down. Don’t leave, not yet anyway.”
“I’m tired of hearing Reid question our ability. He doesn’t get it. Tell him how often we find the perp while the threats are being made. It’s rare, right? Most jobs aren’t finished until the perp tries for the kill. That’s when we nail them. Go ahead, Joel, tell him.”
“He’s right, Reid. We rarely catch anyone during the threat stage. Our job is to take the perp down before he takes you down.” He turned to Mench. “Give the guy a break. He just got woken up at 3 a.m. by his fourth death threat and he’s in the middle of a huge tournament. You think maybe he’s a little uptight? Of course he’s upset with us; he’s upset with everything right now. Let’s all just settle down.” The three of them sat in silence for a minute. Reid broke the silence. “Mench, I’m sorry.” “No Reid, I’m sorry. I should know better. I’ve worked with clients who broke under half the pressure you’re under. You’re a credit to the PGA. In fact, you’re a credit to professional athletes. Most people in your position would be hiding out somewhere. You’re out in the middle of the crowds, doing what you’re supposed to do, not letting this guy get to you. Forgive my insensitivity.”
“Forgiven. Now it’s my turn. I’m sorry for doubting you guys. I wasn’t aware of the statistics on cases like this. I do appreciate what you are all doing for me, and the danger you’ve put yourselves in for my safety. Please accept my apology.” They shook hands. “Reid, it’s 4 a.m.,” Joel said. ”There is nothing you can do to help us here. I’m sure you can’t go back to sleep, but you’ve got a long day ahead of you. Why don’t you just go lie down?”
“Yeah, you’re right. First, I’m going to cancel my wake-up call. If I
do
fall asleep, please make sure I’m up by 8.” “You got it,” Joel said. Reid went back to his room and shut the door. Joel gave Mench a nod toward Reid’s room. Mench got up, knocked on the door and went in. “It’s only me, Reid,” he said. “I’m just going to keep you company while you sleep. Make believe I’m not here.” “That should be easy.” “Don’t start that again.” “Just fooling, just fooling,” Reid said with a chuckle. “Real funny. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you at 8.”
Meanwhile, Jay arrived and was listening to the tape. Every call to the room had been recorded since they had checked in. They had the entrances to the building covered and had combed the entire hotel. Joel explained the altercation between Mench and Reid.
Jay was annoyed. Inside he felt Reid was right; they were clueless. They couldn’t find their top suspect, and if the threats were real, they had only two days to make things happen, or else. The clock was ticking. He preferred to catch the perp during a proactive hunt versus a reactive shootout amid thousands of spectators. Damn, he was as tense now as Reid and Mench were earlier.
Well
, he thought,
maybe I’ll think clearer under pressure.