28-03-2019, 03:17 PM
"We're here, Contessa." Ernst, the pilot, said into the headset.
In the back of the helicopter, Contessa Helena de San Finzione awoke with a start. She looked down at the lush, tropical jungle of the island below against the blue backdrop of the Bahamas.
A Fincantieri cigarette boat and an old motorboat were moored at the single dock on the beach. From the beach, a trail led to a well-kept lawn in front of a large house with a satellite dish. Riding a mower around the lawn was a tall, bald man with an AK-47 strapped to his back, looking up with a smile on his face. La Contessa pointed to a spot on the lawn big enough to land. They descended and cut the engines as the man drove across the lawn to meet them.
"Oi! You're trespassin' on my lawn, Your Countessness!" Nigel Mander yelled in an East London accent over the helicopter engines powering down.
She started to speak, realized it was still pretty loud, and waited for the engine noise to die down before replying.
"To keep The Law and The Taxman off your back; Mander Island is, on paper anyway, a territory of San Finzione. Technically, this rather nice lawn is on San Finzione soil. La Contessa is welcome everywhere in San Finzione; so, legally, I'm actually incapable of trespassing here."
"So, what's 'at mean really?"
"In reality," Helena replied, lighting a cigarette and smiling. "Don't kill anybody who doesn't deserve it and don't hurt women or kids and do whatever the fuck else you want. It's some kind of conservatorship deal, that's why San Finzione sends you a little check every month."
"And 'ere I thought ya just kep' me on 'cause ya picked up some weird fantasy about Uongo, and some day, ya'd call, wanting blindfolded, gagged, and driven to the middle of nowhere by me again."
Helena gave her sweetest smile.
"Well, dammit, now that you've put it in my head, the possibility can never again be ignored. I don't know all the details. It helps that I have an ex who doesn't ask questions when I call him with stuff like," She mimed a telephone and raised the pitch of her voice. "'Hey, Boy. How do I launder an island?'"
Mander grinned at that. Helena waved for her pilot to feel free to get out and stretch his legs.
"Well, then," Mander said, nodding his agreement that yes, he'd been joking, and it was ok for the pilot to get out of the helicopter. "Wish ya'd given me time to run to the big island; buy a red carpet to lay out for ya."
Helena looked down at the grass.
"I'm used to seeing green everywhere I go, anyway. This is nice. Weren't there palm trees here before?"
"Yeah. But I figured I've got plenty of 'em. Never 'ad a lawn, though. It's nice. Saw ya on the tele, a bit back. You've 'ealed well. 'ow's Lady Maria doin'?"
The ash of her cigarette fell onto Mander's lawn. Helen gave him a slightly sheepish look. Mander smiled it away, and she replied.
"Thanks. Good. She's still Contessa-In-Reggenza until I come back from some personal business, following my injury, and resume power. I think this little taste of what she's got to look forward to, down the road, is turning out well for her. I may leave her in charge again once in a while, especially if I get..." Helena thought for a second. "...now and then." She changed the subject. "Hey, and I thought Limeys were supposed to be all about gardens, not lawns."
"Nah, bit sissy for me." He patted the mower. "'Sides, tried it. Only get to use one o' these babies once wit' flowers, then you've gotta wait three months to do it again. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of 'er Countessness' visit?"
"Some personal business." Helena responded looking up to the house. "And to make sure you're keeping your word about not stocking Budweiser."
"If I thought I could get somethin' past ya, I sure as fuck wouldn't risk it on that one. All right, let's take this in the bar."
As they walked, Helena noticed three red dots roaming Mander's back. She stopped and turned around and shook her head, mouthing "no," while making an odd motion with her arms meant to convey both "don't shoot" and "stand down" at the same time. The dots disappeared before Mander stopped and turned around.
"Sorry," Helen smiled sheepishly. "The Ultimados got here three hours before me. They've been on edge since the incident. They're not happy about the AK. I told them you're a geezer, but you know." She yelled to the trees. "We talked about this! He's OK! This is not the first time this man has been armed in my presence, remember? Some of you guys met him in Africa."
He stood up on the mower and waved to the trees as well.
"Oi! You remember me, right? All right if I hang it up inside?"
They gave no response.
"Callin' that a yes! C'mon in fer a pint if ya want. Bar's open. Nice to not see you gents again!"
* * *
In the back of the helicopter, Contessa Helena de San Finzione awoke with a start. She looked down at the lush, tropical jungle of the island below against the blue backdrop of the Bahamas.
A Fincantieri cigarette boat and an old motorboat were moored at the single dock on the beach. From the beach, a trail led to a well-kept lawn in front of a large house with a satellite dish. Riding a mower around the lawn was a tall, bald man with an AK-47 strapped to his back, looking up with a smile on his face. La Contessa pointed to a spot on the lawn big enough to land. They descended and cut the engines as the man drove across the lawn to meet them.
"Oi! You're trespassin' on my lawn, Your Countessness!" Nigel Mander yelled in an East London accent over the helicopter engines powering down.
She started to speak, realized it was still pretty loud, and waited for the engine noise to die down before replying.
"To keep The Law and The Taxman off your back; Mander Island is, on paper anyway, a territory of San Finzione. Technically, this rather nice lawn is on San Finzione soil. La Contessa is welcome everywhere in San Finzione; so, legally, I'm actually incapable of trespassing here."
"So, what's 'at mean really?"
"In reality," Helena replied, lighting a cigarette and smiling. "Don't kill anybody who doesn't deserve it and don't hurt women or kids and do whatever the fuck else you want. It's some kind of conservatorship deal, that's why San Finzione sends you a little check every month."
"And 'ere I thought ya just kep' me on 'cause ya picked up some weird fantasy about Uongo, and some day, ya'd call, wanting blindfolded, gagged, and driven to the middle of nowhere by me again."
Helena gave her sweetest smile.
"Well, dammit, now that you've put it in my head, the possibility can never again be ignored. I don't know all the details. It helps that I have an ex who doesn't ask questions when I call him with stuff like," She mimed a telephone and raised the pitch of her voice. "'Hey, Boy. How do I launder an island?'"
Mander grinned at that. Helena waved for her pilot to feel free to get out and stretch his legs.
"Well, then," Mander said, nodding his agreement that yes, he'd been joking, and it was ok for the pilot to get out of the helicopter. "Wish ya'd given me time to run to the big island; buy a red carpet to lay out for ya."
Helena looked down at the grass.
"I'm used to seeing green everywhere I go, anyway. This is nice. Weren't there palm trees here before?"
"Yeah. But I figured I've got plenty of 'em. Never 'ad a lawn, though. It's nice. Saw ya on the tele, a bit back. You've 'ealed well. 'ow's Lady Maria doin'?"
The ash of her cigarette fell onto Mander's lawn. Helen gave him a slightly sheepish look. Mander smiled it away, and she replied.
"Thanks. Good. She's still Contessa-In-Reggenza until I come back from some personal business, following my injury, and resume power. I think this little taste of what she's got to look forward to, down the road, is turning out well for her. I may leave her in charge again once in a while, especially if I get..." Helena thought for a second. "...now and then." She changed the subject. "Hey, and I thought Limeys were supposed to be all about gardens, not lawns."
"Nah, bit sissy for me." He patted the mower. "'Sides, tried it. Only get to use one o' these babies once wit' flowers, then you've gotta wait three months to do it again. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of 'er Countessness' visit?"
"Some personal business." Helena responded looking up to the house. "And to make sure you're keeping your word about not stocking Budweiser."
"If I thought I could get somethin' past ya, I sure as fuck wouldn't risk it on that one. All right, let's take this in the bar."
As they walked, Helena noticed three red dots roaming Mander's back. She stopped and turned around and shook her head, mouthing "no," while making an odd motion with her arms meant to convey both "don't shoot" and "stand down" at the same time. The dots disappeared before Mander stopped and turned around.
"Sorry," Helen smiled sheepishly. "The Ultimados got here three hours before me. They've been on edge since the incident. They're not happy about the AK. I told them you're a geezer, but you know." She yelled to the trees. "We talked about this! He's OK! This is not the first time this man has been armed in my presence, remember? Some of you guys met him in Africa."
He stood up on the mower and waved to the trees as well.
"Oi! You remember me, right? All right if I hang it up inside?"
They gave no response.
"Callin' that a yes! C'mon in fer a pint if ya want. Bar's open. Nice to not see you gents again!"
* * *
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