“Aww,” Stu said as he watched. “Guess I won’t get my chance. Oh well.” “Sorry, Stu, I just needed to loosen up a little. I hate to disappoint you.” After a few more balls, Reid said, “Let’s go grab a bite. I skipped break fast, and my stomach is starting to growl.” After lunch, they headed for the practice green. “Oh great, look who’s here,” Reid said. Bobby Lee looked over at Reid and tilted his microphone toward him with a look of hope. Reid gave him an evil stare. “Wow,” Buddy mumbled, “If looks could kill…” “I’m not in the mood for him right now,” Reid growled. He dropped some balls on the green and started to putt. He missed the first two, then sunk the next four from about 10 feet. He continued to putt well from different positions all over the green.
Howard walked over to him. “Now how the heck am I supposed to beat you while you’re putting like that? You’re on fire, man.”
“You never know. There’s a big difference between the practice green and the real thing.”
“Yeah, you got that right, but I was kind of hoping that maybe, due to your circumstances, you’d be a little nervous today. You know, if I win, it would be like I was saving your life. What do you think?”
“What do I think? I think you should play golf and let them keep me alive,” he said, nodding at his protection team. “That’s what I think. C’mon, let’s go.”
Reid and Howard were playing right behind Jim Turner and Kerry Lawrence, who were third and fourth on the leader board. Turner was just teeing off when Reid and Howard walked up to the first tee. They watched him hit a short shot into the gallery lining the fairway. The crowd scattered to dodge his ball. Turner stepped away, visibly frustrated. Lawrence then hit his ball nicely, right down the center. Turner took a quick look around and locked eyes with Reid for moment. Reid winked and watched Turner grimace with rage. As Lawrence and Turner walked from the tee box, Reid said to Howard, “Maybe I should tee off now. I could put Turner out of his misery.” “No Reid, you have enough problems already. Let me do it!” After Lawrence hit his second shot, Howard was announced. Reid said, “Let’s see something good. It’s just you and me, pal.” Howard turned and held out his fist at arm’s length and Reid gave him a knuckle tap.
Howard hit a good shot and Reid followed, hitting his ball close to Howard’s. The crowd loved it. Both men tipped their hats as they walked off the tee box.
The protection team was much bigger today. Reid hadn’t noticed the additional guards until now. There was enough room inside the human ring of security for Reid, Howard and both caddies.
On the way to Reid’s ball, Buddy quietly asked, “What’s with the funky shirt?”
Reid sneered back, “Just shut up about the shirt. Another word about it and you’re fired.” Then he quietly whispered, “Here, take a look.” He unfastened a couple of buttons and opened the shirt just enough for Buddy to see the vest.
“Wow, cool!” Buddy whispered, “How’s it feel? I can’t believe I didn’t notice it. Now I understand the need for the ugly shirt. Well, the vest certainly didn’t hurt your tee shot. It wasn’t quite as long as usual, but it was good.”
“That’s the only problem I’ve had with it. Did you notice at the range I was hitting a little short with all my clubs? We’ll have to adjust as we go today. Keep it in mind.” “Got it.” Reid and Howard chipped their second shots near the pin a few feet from one another. Both putted for par and moved on to the second tee. They each parred holes two, three and four. The fifth was a long par five. Howard birdied it while Reid shot another par. Howard was now on top of the leader board, one shot ahead of Reid. After pars on six and seven, the standings remained the same.
They were walking up to the eighth tee when Buddy quietly gasped “Holy shit! There’s Eli! He’s in the gallery.”
“What? Really? Where?” Reid tensed, stopping dead in his tracks. He quickly backed up into the circle of security, telling Joel about Eli. The guards tightened around him. “Where exactly is he, Buddy?” Joel asked. “He’s wearing a red cap on the far side of the tee box. He’s in the second row.” Reid peeked over the guards and said, “Oh yeah, I see him.” “Stay down!” Stu hissed. Joel glanced over and spotted Eli. His entire demeanor seemed to change from casual bodyguard to strike force commander. Always the consummate professional, he seemed to come alive at the critical moment. He spoke quietly and precisely into his radio. “TG to Jay – Target’s in view. He’s in the gallery at the eighth hole. Request permission for take-down.” Joel had his earphone in so only he heard the response. In a hushed, stern voice he said, “VIP team, disperse and come around his back. You know what he looks like. He’s wearing a green shirt and red golf cap. Stu, Greeny, Mench, come around the tee box with me. Buddy, I want you to create a diversion. When I rub my eye, I want you to drop Reid’s golf bag. Ham it up a little, make some noise. That’s when we make our move. Everyone else stay tight around Reid. Gentlemen, I don’t want anyone hurt, but if he resists, we end it as quickly as possible, whatever it takes.” He paused briefly. “Okay, everyone ready?” They all quietly answered, “Ready.” “Move out,” he said, softly yet firmly. They all got into position quickly with only a few questionable looks from the crowd. Joel reached up and rubbed his eye. On cue, Buddy dropped the golf bag with a loud, “Ouch, damn, my foot,” drawing the attention of the entire gallery. Within seconds, the security team dragged Eli from the crowd and had him pinned with his face in the grass. The crowd screamed and scattered. It was all over in minutes.
Jay arrived in a four-seat golf cart with two heavily armed, uniformed officers. As they cuffed Eli and threw him into the cart, he complained, “What’s going on? What did I do?”
Reid had walked over by this time; he looked Eli in the eye, shook his head and asked, “Why?”
Eli gave him a confused look and asked, “Why what? What the hell is this all about?”
Having spent years together, Reid could tell Eli was truly mystified. Either that, or he had become a great actor, and Reid couldn’t accept that even as a possibility. He knew anytime Eli had told a lie, his facial expression and body language gave it away. To Reid, this could mean only one thing. The killer might still be out there. He thought, Why the hell couldn’t it have just been Eli? Damn, that would have been too easy… Oh, screw it, enough already! I’ve come this far, I’m just going to keep playing and win this game.
“Reid, go back and finish,” Jay said. “We’ll see you after the ninth. Joel, Stu, come back with me.” “No,” Reid said quickly. “I want Joel and Stu with me. I don’t think
Eli’s our man.” “What are you talking about? Why not?” Jay was surprised. “Because I know the guy, and when I talked to him, he… he…” Reid couldn’t find the words. “Well, let’s just say my gut tells me it’s not him.” “Great! Okay, guys, you heard the man, resume your posts. Everyone on duty and stay alert. I need to go have a little talk with Eli.” He turned his cart and drove off.
The whole thing had lasted only eight minutes. Reid looked at Howard and asked, “Do you need some time?” “Me? I’m all right. How about you?” “Actually, I’m kinda charged. Let’s go finish this thing.” When the crowd finally settled down, Howard and Reid teed off, both hitting good shots. Reid’s was long with a small draw. “I don’t believe it,” Buddy said. “He did it again. Give this guy a dose of adrenaline and watch him go.”
Reid laughed and said, “C’mon, let’s go win this tournament.” While he was walking, he asked Joel, “Hey, when you were talking to Jay on your radio, you called yourself TG. What’s that all about?” “Please don’t ask.” “It stands for Top Gun,” Stu said. It’s been his nickname ever since that movie came out. Cute isn’t it.” “Fuck you,” Joel said. “Sensitive are we?” Stu said. Joel turned and quickly threw a jab, stopping only a fraction of an inch from Stu’s jaw. His second punch was caught by Stu’s iron grip, inches from his nose. Then they both smiled and Stu lightly swatted the back of Joel’s head. Watching, Reid was amazed. Joel’s first punch, although playful, would have knocked out most guys if it had connected. Reid had winced just watching. Stu had been as cool as a cucumber, not even flinching. The second punch would easily have broken Stu’s nose if he hadn’t stopped it with his last minute reaction. Reid thought, Holy cow! These guys are like lethal weapons. Stu either has ice in his veins or the ultimate trust in Joel. And Joel had to know Stu was going to catch his second punch or he wouldn’t have thrown it. Not many people could have stopped that punch. What would these guys be like in a real fight? Hope I don’t have to find out, even if they are on my side.