The Unintended Consequence

It’s hot. Damned hot. Kurt Mack lay in a narrow bed below an ancient ceiling fan which sparked continuously, threatening to give out at any moment. His short, neatly combed blonde hair glistened slightly, as if he had applied oil to it. His recessed, piercing blue eyes and chiseled features lent him a military appearance – which, was an asset for an ‘executive protection agent.’ He was in fact Mr. Linh’s personal bodyguard. The other two Americans were charged with overseeing and training the core Vietnamese guard force for the large industrial complex. At the heart of the province of Dong Nai is a massive industrial zone comprised of numerous walled campuses housing various types of manufacturing activities. Mr. Linh’s produces composite parts. Bicycle frames. Aftermarket automotive and motorcycle body components. Hopefully, if negotiations go well, even aviation components.

He almost wished he was a rank and file guard. Almost. Not really. Not seriously. The rank and file guards wear uniforms, but light uniforms. The penalty you pay for being an armed, high risk executive bodyguard is that you have to wear some form of jacket, and more often than not it’s a suit in order to conceal a weapon in public. The other two guys were there pretty much for show. It’s not that they weren’t qualified at what they do, they certainly were, but they were a little bit unnecessary. Overkill. But the appearance of having Americans in charge instilled confidence in those who he did business with, when they visited the site. Kurt himself on the other hand, was probably necessary. The average Vietnamese ex-military security candidates rarely had any significant real world experience in armed tactical operations. In fact it was damned difficult to get a permit to carry a gun.

Frankly, Kurt felt as if it was overkill to have an armed, covert security guard accompanying Mr. Linh to and from his high rise penthouse residence as well as offsite meetings, and it probably was. In his two months on the job, he had yet to hear of an attack on or an attempted kidnapping of a corporate executive, which was a stark contrast to South America. And he was probably right, but Mr. Linh liked his bragging rights. He liked status. Kurt was a status symbol. In fact, Mr. Linh would insist that in the car with clients, or in private meetings, that he wear his jacket loosely enough such that ‘unintentional’ glimpses of his Sig Sauer nine millimeter pistol could be garnered. In fact, he even wore a fake earbud mic, if for no other reason than to make it clear he was the security man.

One would think that Vinafabco’s security force was run by Americans. Well it sort of was, but the man in charge was Mr. Trong. Trong didn’t really do shit, except to occasionally make himself visible, and make it clear that Mr. Karl, Mr. Bubba and Mr. Rich did in fact report to him. Frankly, Trong didn’t particularly like it when Bubba and Rich were brought in two years ago, but he frankly disliked Karl. These guys were stealing his show – Kurt in particular. But, he also operated at an arm’s length, which did well to lower tension and personality conflict. In fact, he didn’t even hang out at the small concrete building that housed that served as living and meeting quarters for security staff.

Bubba was an ex-Marine. He was a bald headed black man, and was a good solid two hundred fifty pounds of muscle. Native of Alabama. When he wasn’t playing hardass, he had a deceptively pleasant demeanor. Rich was an ex-Air Force forward controller, who bore a type resemblance to the 50’s television character Wally Cleaver. Forward controllers weren’t combat soldiers, but they operated in a tactical environment and were expected to keep up with the Special Forces units in which they were embedded. Kurt himself was an ex-Secret Service agent, who had the misfortune to be unfairly caught up in an internal sex and prostitution scandal, when he was so close to finally scoring a position on the presidential security team. Although the patrol guards, and Mr. Trong, worked as employees of Vinafabco, the Americans did not. They worked full-time on site, but as contractors with Executive Warriors International. Mr. Linh would have preferred to have hired them directly, but getting them licensed to do what they do in Vietnam isn’t happening without the backing of a well established security firm.

Kurt had almost drifted off to sleep when the incessant pounding of a rubber ball bouncing off the walls could be heard in the hallway. Bubba was entertaining himself by playing solo handball. He got up and walked to the office, and guzzled a cup of water from the cooler as Trong walked in.

“Mr. Trong, for what do I owe the pleasure?” Kurt asked in a semi-mocking tone of voice.

“Mr. Linh would like to speak with you in his office.” Trong’s face was expressionless. But it always was. He was still an easy man to read. You were always on the edge with him.

Linh was large for a Vietnamese. He was a good five foot eleven, and slightly heavyset. He was an old man, well in his sixties. He had a thick, dense salt and pepper mustache, and a full head of dark wavy hair – which he probably dyed. Sometimes he would wear a suit for meetings. Sometimes he would wear a large, traditional wooden peg clasp collarless shirt with a large, embroidered dragon in the place of a right pocket. His office was spacious, with dark wood veneer walls, and old wooden and stone relics placed about the room. And it was even air conditioned, unlike most of the spartan concrete buildings present in the complex. He studied an old script under a glass frame hanging on the wall, written in the Vietnamese language but using the old, traditional Chinese characters prior to the advent of the Roman alphabet based written language developed by the French. He lit a cigarette and motioned for Karl to have a seat.

Linh sat down behind his desk and spoke. “Starting tomorrow, I want to shift your responsibility from protecting myself, to protecting my wife. I want you to accompany her on trips outside the apartment. I would like you to be there from when I leave in the morning, until I return in the evening.”

Kurt had a confused look on his face. “Is there some sort of threat I should know about?”

“I am worried that she is being followed. Being stalked. I do not want to take any chances.”

“I’m… happy to do that, don’t get me wrong, but, aren’t there other men that could adequately handle the situation?”

“I’m sure there are, but I have a level of trust with you that I do not have with the others. I hope that you can understand.”

“All right.” Kurt replied. “I’m just thinking. Logistics wise, I assume I’m riding in the car to your place, and you are leaving in it. That will leave me with no car. How will… we… get around?”

“The same way she always gets around. Her driver will take you.”

He met her once, when she came down from the apartment to hand Mr. Linh a package he forgot to grab on the way down to the car. Thi Tran was pretty much everything he wasn’t. She was young, at least much younger than Linh was. Mid to late thirties – more or less the same age as Kurt. She was stunningly beautiful. She was basically a trophy wife. It is a common joke – and only halfway so, that Vietnamese men have a wife, a spouse, and a girlfriend. The wife is just that, a legal marriage. The spouse is the mistress, and the girlfriend is just one more on the side. Linh himself didn’t seem to fit that mold, at least not exactly, meaning he didn’t have the time or the energy for a girlfriend. The mistress on the other hand, just seemed bizarre. She was older and didn’t nearly have the looks of Thi. You would have thought the roles to have been reversed.

The large, spacious penthouse apartment looked as if it had been decorated by a professional interior designer. It was a refreshing break from the hot, humid plain concrete walled security building back at Vinafabco. Then it sunk in that it was almost like being in jail. Hang out in the living room. Watch television if you want. All day long, until you are needed. It finally dawned on Kurt that her looks were deceiving. Inside, she was a dragon lady. She pretended not to speak English at first when Linh introduced him. And it was clear that she was definitely not on board with having some babysitter hovering over her. It didn’t appear as if Linh really needed a man of special trust to stay within his bounds. She came across as materialistic and shallow. She was, after all, married to a man old enough to be her father.

She was talking on her cell phone in the kitchen, having what seemed to be a heated conversation in Vietnamese. After ending the call, she grabbed her purse, slipped in to her sandals at the doorway, and spoke to Kurt. “I go do some errands. I come back later.”

“You know that my job is to come with you when you go out.”

She turned a shade of purple. “I will not be treated like small child.”

“Look, your husband feels that there is a credible threat to you. He informs me that someone has been stalking you.”

“He tell you this.” Thi kicked off her shoes, walked back in to the kitchen, and made another brief, somewhat heated call, and then came back out. “Okay. Fine. We go now.”

The white Mercedes really stood out in the sea of motorbikes and Toyota compact sedans and minivans, although not as much as Linh’s Bentley. Kurt himself would have preferred that Linh ride around in something less conspicuous, like an older model Toyota Innova, the local soccer mom’s ride of choice. But it was what it was. The driver was actually a woman. A slightly older woman that spoke no English. She had Thi had a brief conversation, and she turned back around and smiled.

“She says that you look very handsome” Thi said, as she adjusted her dress in the back seat.

“Cam on, em” Kurt said, using the few words of Vietnamese that he had picked up. Thank you. Technically, it was incorrect to address her as em. But, in a whole generation where Americans present during the war were generally older, ‘ahn’s’, and the females were generally younger, ‘em’s’, Vietnamese speaking Americans couldn’t bring themselves to address another man as em, or a woman as ahn, even though technically, the salutation is based on age and not gender. But they understand that. He turned and looked at Thi. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping. I need to buy some clothes for the gym.”

This is one hell of a place to by ‘some clothes for the gym.’ Kurt looked around the massive western style shopping mall which might be found in any major city in a first world nation. Vietnam had always been viewed as a third world country. That view is rapidly changing. A young looking Vietnamese man with short, dark hair and sunglasses wearing a pressed suit approached Thi in the sportswear section of the high end clothing store, and they had a brief conversation. He removed his sunglasses, and looked over at Kurt with a glare. He was, after all, a westerner. An American. With one of ‘their’ girls. It’s not that they aren’t used to it. They are. But they don’t necessarily like it. After helping her to select a pair of leggings, a sports bra, sports top and a pair of athletic shoes, they walked out of the store and Thi called her driver using her cell phone.

“Back home now?” Kurt asked.

“No. We go downtown, have lunch.”

The locals still call it Saigon. It was Saigon, until Saigon fell to the North Vietnamese Army in 1975, at which time it became Ho Chi Minh City. It is the largest city in Vietnam, and the largest destination for foreign tourists. District 1 is the tourist trap. The heart of downtown. Restaurants range from those that cater to westerners, to those that cater to locals. But if you actually want to eat at a more rustic, traditional, open air with plastic seats and table places, at very rustic prices, you have to go out of the heart of downtown. It was a seafood restaurant, although, try and find a Vietnamese restaurant that does not serve fresh seafood. Good luck with that one. Kurt stared a plate of steamed shrimp, a plate of fried calamari, a steamed whole fish, and a bowl of rice noodles. “Ahn ang tom, muc, ca, bun” He said in broken Vietnamese.

“Very good” Thi replied. “You like? You need fork?”

“No, I can use these.” Kurt grabbed a pair of chopsticks from a stand on the table, and expertly put some rice noodles on his plate, and some shrimp and calamari. “We have Chinese restaurants at home. I learned to use them there.”

“Do you have wife at home?” Thi asked as she poured some tea. As an afterthought, she turned a glass beer mug upright. “Do you want beer?”

“No I do not. I mean have a wife at home. But, sure, I will have a beer.” He uprighted his own mug, and a girl wearing a short uniform bearing the Tiger Beer logo appeared, placing a large chunk of ice in each mug, and then pouring a bottle of beer in each, as is standard protocol. Technically, alcohol is forbidden under company policy, but the unwritten rule was that exceptions can occur, when protocol dictates. He was a high risk threat protective agent that really shouldn’t drink, but then again there didn’t appear to be any high risk threats present. Of course you never really know. “So can you tell me about this stalker?”

She blushed, and appeared to be slightly angry. “The only people stalking me, are the men he sends to spy on me.”

“I see. May I ask you a personal question?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“You don’t seem to be too happy. Why did you marry him?”

“Why do you think? You know where I grew up? I am from a very poor village near Can Tho. The house our family lived in did not even have a floor. It was made of bamboo. It even floods, inside. We did not have running water. We lived on what we could catch from the river, and from what we could grow. We had very little money.”

“I… would not have guessed.”

“You think I grew up like this? With money? With food on the table, every day. No. I do this out of survival.”

Bubba and Rich were busy playing cards and drinking cans of beer when Kurt walked in. “So, uh, is the rumor true? Does Mr. Linh have one hot little number of a wife?” Bubba asked.

“Is that all you can think about?” Kurt grabbed a chair, and thought about grabbing a cold beer out of the refrigerator, but he actually did end up drinking half of the day. “I’m gonna hit it early. I’m pretty tired.”

“That sounds like the words of a man that just had some tang” Bubba replied with a short laugh.

“Yeah, right.”

A guest bedroom was visible from the kitchen. The door was open, and he could hear Thi changing clothes inside it. He did a slight double take when a large mirror on a stand in the corner revealed the activity. Thi noticed Kurt in the mirror, then walked over to the door and shut it. Did she do that on purpose? It didn’t make a lot of sense why Thi would choose a guest bedroom to change in. Then again, she may well have had more clothes than closet space to store them in the master bedroom. That guest bedroom seemed to be a go-to place for her, when she wasn’t hanging out in the kitchen.

She walked out in her newly acquired gym clothes, and gave a slight glare to Kurt. “I go to gym now. You think you can just wait in the car for me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It was actually located in the same mall as the one she purchased her gym clothes from, except on the other end and on the ground floor, with outside access. Kurt felt slightly uncomfortable sitting in the rear of the white Mercedes alone. He felt as though the driver was staring at him. He would glance at the rear view mirror and smile. She would smile and stop. Then she would stare again.

“I’ll be back” He said in English to the woman. She probably didn’t understand the words, but she could tell he was going someplace, and she nodded her head. He had to stretch his legs. He decided to walk over to the gym and check it out. He and a few of the others used a gym local to Vinafabco, but it was pretty rough and utilitarian. This one was quite nice, and obviously pricey. The clientele were all well dressed, as could be seen through the large windows, as if the main room was an advertising display. Thi could be observed doing some barbell exercises in a corner with a trainer.

The trainer. Kurt moved in closer for a better look. He had a familiar look to him. Kurt couldn’t quite place him though. Then it dawned on him, as if a light switch had been flicked inside of his head. The man looked very much like the clothing store employee, except now he is dressed in a tee shirt and shorts. Kurt moved in for yet a closer look. It was him. Coincidence?

Kurt returned to the car, which was actually parked alongside of the road opposite the gym. Twenty minutes later, Thi returned. They had an extended conversation on the way back to the apartment. “What were you and the driver talking about?”

“Maybe you should learn to understand Vietnamese better then you would know.”

“I see. Forget I asked.”

“Oh, and another thing. You may be really great at protecting people I am sure, but you are very bad at spying on people.”

“Look, that thing with the bedroom; that was completely accidental. I swear.”

“Maybe so. But you looking in the window of the gym was not.”

“Just making sure everything was okay.”

“So was everything… okay?”

Kurt was surprised by the question. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You haven’t figured it out, have you?”

“Figured what out?”

“At first, I think you play stupid and pretend to be here to protect me. But now, I think that you do not even realized that he didn’t send you to protect me, but to watch me.”

“You mean like spy on you and report back? If that’s what you think, I assure you that you are completely wrong.”

“I am curious to know what you will tell Linh when you return tonight.”

“Thi… I can put two and two together. I can figure out your trainer is more than a trainer. I’m not stupid. But that stays here.”

“He is pretty upset that you are around.”

“Because you can’t bring him here during the day?”

“Are you joking? I would never bring him here. There are cameras in the halls. There are cameras outside. Linh has people to look at those things.”

“And you trust your driver?”

“Yes. I choose her personally. She is from my home town. Our families know each other.”

“Are you aware that your husband sees someone else?”

“I know about her. He doesn’t do much to hide it.”

Kurt was greeted by the hastily scribbled note taped to the refrigerator when he walked in to the kitchen area of the security building. Chief wants to see you when you get back. Linh was furiously puffing away on a foul smelling cigarette as he walked through the door of Linh’s office. “Got a message you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I just, wanted to know how things are going. Have you seen anything… suspicious?” Linh asked.

Bingo. Kurt had his doubts, but was now convinced that Thi was in fact correct. He was getting played. To what end? Think about it. He tries to send some of his goonies to follow her around but that doesn’t work very well. And besides, what is he going to do when he finds out who it is? Take an attractive western male, and place him with Thi continuously through the day, and it’s bound to have a negative effect on said relationship. So, more than likely, not only was he sent to spy on Thi, but he was also sent to actively break up the relationship. What a brilliant move and not at all surprising. Hell, Thi alluded to that herself. One thing Kurt learned very quickly, was that Linh was not just a shrewd businessman, but he was also a master manipulator. Not so far as I can tell. Kurt started to speak, then stopped. The more he thought about it, the more he intensely disliked being played, even if he was being paid.

“Well… that is a good question” Kurt responded. “I’m not sure, but I think I may have caught a couple glimpses of the stalker. But I just couldn’t be sure. It could have just been a coincidence.”

“So, is it your opinion, that your presence is beneficial, in keeping this… stalker, away?”

“Yes… I mean in my experience, these jealous stalker types view other men as competition, and he may possibly view me as such. He therefore may elect to try to come after me. Which, is obviously much better than having him come after your wife. Or, for that matter… yourself.”

“Mr. Kurt. Are you comfortable with that?” Linh asked.

“Ahn Linh, that is exactly what I am paid to do” Kurt replied. “I am a professional.”

“Well, then please carry on, as you Americans say.”

“Actually it’s the Brits and the Aussies that say that, but no problem.”

Kurt lay under the sparking fan going over in his mind the day’s events. Maybe even Thi had it wrong. It may just be possible that Linh threw him in the fire for the primary reason of saving his own ass. Was the boyfriend jealous? Yep. Was he dangerous? Who knows. Men who screw around with wealthy, powerful men’s women tend not to be passive. Somehow, even with the risk implications, that premise seemed to be intrinsically more palatable than either the premise of being played as a snitch, or a wedge in a relationship. And it made a little bit more sense.

He had some down time coming up. It was a weekend. Or at least a free Sunday. For most nine to five type workers, Sunday was a free day and Saturday afternoon was free. But not Saturday morning. Of course anyone in the security business, save for administrative office workers, work crazy schedules. But, since Vinafabco fit in the general category of a nine to five industry, off times for the most of the security staff generally coincided with the company’s schedule. There were a number of bars and karaoke lounges in Saigon offering semi-secretive ‘services’ for men willing to pay. Most of the free security guards and factory workers would end up at those places. Bubba might end up there. Rich? Probably, but a guy like him doesn’t actually need to. Kurt? Guys like him absolutely don’t need to. If you’re a single (and you can scratch the single part) western guy that doesn’t weigh three hundred pounds and hasn’t been beaten too badly with the ugly stick, you can be rest assured that the bar girls will flock to you on a Friday or Saturday night. Or any other night. But at the end of the day, everything has its price. They don’t give up the goods for free. If you aren’t paying for it in money, you’re paying for it in the promise of a relationship, with all the attached bells and whistles. Kurt struggled there. He wasn’t willing to stoop to whore mongering, but he wasn’t willing to take on a relationship either. He was at an impasse as to where he might willing to do either, yet, now something was holding him back.

It did occur to him that he deliberately played the card of a possible violent stalker, so he could keep on with his present assignment. If he reported no abnormalities whatsoever, Linh may have concluded that either he was wrong, or perhaps the boyfriend had gone away therefore there was no real reason to keep Kurt watching over Thi.

His grandfather had been killed in the ‘American’ war, a casualty of a bombing run over Hanoi. But he was a regular NVA soldier. His father also served in the Vietnamese national army. Phan however was more talk than action. He wanted the glory of a soldier in the people’s army, but he never did want to earn it. He didn’t want to work for it. He did attend university, studying accounting, but that was too much like work as well so he worked as a fitness trainer. Not just a run of the mill fitness trainer, but as a personal trainer that used his looks, skills, and stories to lure sugar mommies. He was a little bit shady – he liked nice clothes, and envisioned himself as sort of an underworld figure, but he didn’t quite have the gumption for that.

He couldn’t let it go. That American. Thi did her best to explain that his presence was temporary and that he was there on the insistence of her husband, but that explanation didn’t make sense to Phan. It wouldn’t make sense to most other guys, either. He wasn’t jealous of Linh. At least not in the same way he was jealous of Kurt. Linh was an old man, had a ‘spouse,’ probably couldn’t get it up, and generally spend little time with her. This guy Kurt… he was with her all day long. In private. At the apartment. He was with her every place she went – even to the gym to see him. No, that was just not a winning situation. He wasn’t just a threat to his emotional connection, he was a direct threat to his livelihood. It takes a lot of time and effort, and a lot of failed attempts to land a wealthy, supportive mistress. And Thi was young and beautiful. That was an unusual combination.

If circumstances had been different, he might have been inclined to end the relationship out of spite. And it was starting to grow cold. She was no longer physically receptive to him. Mr. Kurt has to go, one way or the other.

When it’s ninety degrees outside, ninety five percent humidity, you don’t wear undershirts. Kurt did however wear a tank top undershirt, since it afforded him a way to be shirtless in the apartment without being completely inappropriate, while he knocked out pushups and ab exercises in the living room.

Thi came out of the guest bedroom in her gym attire, and sat next to Kurt as he took a break on the couch. “You have very strong arms” She said, as she examined his half-dressed upper torso.

“I try to do my best to keep in shape. I suppose it’s time to go to the gym now” he replied with a tone of disappointment.

“I am not going to that gym anymore. I called things off with Pham.”

“Pham. I guess he has a name now. I normally just call him Pal. Pal is like Dude, but slightly more condescending.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Right. West Coast American vernacular. So what led to that?”

“I’ve come to realize who he really is. Selfish. Jealous. He lies. A rusted, broken car with nice paint.”

“Nice analogy.”

“Why don’t you help me stretch out.” She led him in to the guest bedroom. The stretch session turned in to a massage session. The massage session turned in to a makeout session. The makeout session turned in to two, writhing, naked bodies tirelessly pushing carnal boundaries, culminating with volcanic crescendos of erotic explosion.

The screaming could be heard almost throughout the entire Vinafabco complex. Fifteen minutes later, Trong marched in to the security building with a wide smirk on his face. Kurt, Bubba and Rich were seated at a table eating a platter of deep fried spring rolls from a cart vendor just outside the gate.

“Mr. Kurt. I have been informed by Mr. Linh that your services are terminated, effective now.”

How the hell did he find out? Although Kurt was pretty sure he knew why, it always pays to be sure. “Why?”

“Do you really think Mr. Linh would trust a man, alone in his own house, for an extended period of time, in close contact with his wife, and not install one or more cameras to record the activity?”

“Well, what do I say. I’m guessing that he probably doesn’t want me to stop at his office and wish him goodbye.”

“I would not recommend it. Gather your things, and the driver will take you a location of your choice, as long as it is outside of the central district of Ho Chi Minh City. You can ride in the green Ranger.” Trong abruptly stood up. “It is waiting outside. I suggest you do not delay excessively” he added as he walked out the door.

“Dayyyyyyum, hoss!” Bubba yelled in disbelief. “What the hell did you do? Screw the old man’s wife?”

“Well, now that you mention it.”

It wasn’t even a full minute after Kurt left with his hastily packed duffel bag, than a young slender Vietnamese man with thick dark hair entered the kitchen, escorted by a gate guard. “Excuse me, I am looking for man named Kurt. Can you tell me where I can find him? It is very important.”

“Oh, you just missed him” Rich said. “But he just left in a green Ford Ranger pickup with the company logo on it. If you hurry, you might be able to catch up.”

“Thank you.” The man disappeared.

A short while later, Rich walked back in, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Rich uncrossed his legs on the table and looked surprised. “What are you doing back here? We thought you left?”

“Yeah, the old man was so pissed that he jumped in the Ranger and left for someplace, and yelled at me to get a cab.”

As expected, the Ranger was snarled in traffic. Pham passed it up, doing nearly full speed in his Honda Passport motorbike, and proceeded to a hill a few kilometers ahead, and took refuge in some bushes. He pulled the long, thick back slung over his back, and pulled out a Dragunov SVD sniper rifle. It belonged to his grandfather. The family never did return it to the government. He loaded a magazine, and cycled the bolt to chamber a round. He then aimed, and waited. Once the Ranger was in sight, ten rounds were directed to the passenger side of the pickup truck.

Kurt sat in the highly polished lobby of the local police headquarters in Dong Nai. Finally a chief of police bearing three stars on his uniform walked out in to the lobby, and directed for Kurt to have a seat. “Mr. Kurt Mack. Thank you for coming down to the station to speak with us. I just want to let you know that we have arrested the man responsible for killing your employer.”

“Well, that is certainly good” Kurt replied. “But I failed my assignment. I was hired to protect him. So, I guess I will be looking for another job.”

“He appeared to be surprised that Mr. Linh was killed. He stated that you were the intended target.”

Kurt hung his head low. “Yes, I suspected that might have been the case. Now I guess I know.”

“I would not worry about him at this point. At a minimum, he will serve the rest of his life in prison. But he will probably receive death.”

“Right. Thanks. I guess.”

“That is all. Have a good day, Mr. Mack.”

Mr. Linh was a wealthy man. Very wealthy. He had the equivalent of five million US dollars in the bank, and the company sold for about the same amount. And Thi inherited it all. It was enough to purchase a rather nice beachfront home in Vung Tau. Kurt was outside by the pool sunning himself and sipping on a Margarita, when Thi brought two familiar faces on to the patio. Rich and Bubba.

“Hey guys” Kurt said. “Good of you to stop by. Want a drink?”

“Sure” Bubba said. “But just a quick one. We wanted to check out your digs. We be headed to a beach party.”

Kurt poured two glasses of Margarita from a blender, handed them out, and raised a toast. “Hmm, you know, honestly, I don’t even know what to toast to.”

Rich raised his glass. “Well, I say, to an unintended consequence.”