Chapter 36.

DOS PUEBLOS, CALIFORNIA

SEPT. 19, 1993 (NOON)

Airwolf descended into a clearing in the wooded foot hills above what used to be the Bentley family cattle ranch. That is; prior to the amalgamation of New Jordan and Freestead. Nowadays, however, it stood vacant when it was not being used for the annual county agricultural fair (during the first week of October) and other special events requiring barn-sized storage buildings. The landing, of course, had been made with the engines on complete stealth mode. And, after she and her passengers had disembarked, Cassandra turned to the high-tech gunship, thrust forward her hands (palm upward) and exclaimed:

"Concelare!"

Whereupon, Airwolf became invisible to the naked eye! The Immortal wizardess then turned to Gwendolyn Post with an inquiring expression on her face.

"Mr. Summers and Mr. D'Amour have gone on ahead," replied the latter: "They'll signal when they spot Merrick approaching the fairgrounds."

Cassandra nodded her approval, before materializing her sword and leading the way toward a nearby cow path that Mother Nature had almost completely reclaimed. Gwendolyn followed right behind her, holding her mostly aesthetic high heels in her left hand, while Eric Cord and the robotic Becky Granger brought up the rear. The former guiding the latter with his right hand. By the time the quarter caught up to the two other men, Hank Summers had picked the padlock on the wooden gate before them. While "Harry D'Amour" was talking over something with the driver of the Range Rover waiting for them.

"Good timing!" exclaimed the latter. "I'm Merrick Jamison-Smythe, Ms. Cassandra. And, your fortuitous arrival eliminates the need for Mr. Summers to submit you to the indignity of summoning you with an ultra-sonic dog whistle!"

Cassandra smiled. "That's most chivalrous of you. But, the truth is, I gave Hank that whistle during the flight, here! So, he could signal me with it, relatively undetected."

"Ah! A most wise precaution. Shall we go, then?"

Eric, "Harry," and the three women piled into the back seat while Hank took the shotgun seat next to Merrick. Whereupon, the scholarly-looking Watcher took off for the Half-way Inn.

HAMILTON RESIDENCE

(12:30 P. M.)

Jacob Hamilton watched as his daughter hung up the phone.

"Well?" he demanded (with as little harshness as he could uncharacteristically manage).

"The caterers will have the cake here by tonight," replied Emma Stark: "It's been carefully packed, in a padded crate, full of dry ice. And they'll store it out in the pool house until tomorrow night!"

The brusque old plutocrat gave a curt nod of approval: "Good! A man's father only turns one hundred, once."

HALF-WAY INN,

ROOM 502

(12:45 P. M.)

HARRY D'AMOUR'S P.O.V.

After the council of war had broken up, the preceding night, I urgently-but-discretely took Merrick aside and told him the truth.

"When you meet the rescue party, 'Harry' will most likely start ranting and raving when you address him by that name. And, he'll have good reason!"

Needless to say, he was a little stunned by the time I had finished. Yet, after mulling it over for a few minutes, he had finally nodded in understanding.

"That certainly explains his- -or, rather, your- -hasty departure from Lake Tahoe, on the day after I first met you! On the other hand, it does raise the question of what will happen when you and original body get into closer proximity to each other."

I could only shrug: "Hopefully, our minds will leap back into each of us, automatically. If they don't? I'm afraid we'll have to take that as evidence that we need Sam Beckett's current host body to trigger the switch."

"And you still think Marie Stark and/or one of her fellow cheerleaders might possess that knowledge?"

"Admiral Calavicci and the others did lose track of him at the pep rally."

My reverie was interrupted by the now-familiar sound of a certain four wheel-drive vehicle pulling into the hotel parking lot. So, I took a surreptitious look outside my room's front window. Sure enough; it was the Range Rover. And I couldn't help smiling to myself as I mentally compared the disembarking occupants to circus clowns emerging from one of those hilarious little jalopies! My smile vanished, however, as I noticed Merrick bringing my real body up to Room 502, while the others went to register for their own rooms.

One minute later, he was making introductions.

"Real Harry? Real Brian. Real Brian? Real Harry."

The two of us shook hands. . .and it was just as I had feared.

No body swap.

RETROPLEX THEATRE (5:20 P. M.)

SAM BECKETT'S P. O. V.

As much as I had enjoyed the limited freedom Suzie Kamanawanaleia had granted me, it had been difficult to enjoy the second half of the double-feature. Not because Abbott and Costello weren't funny! Oh, no. Their comedy will never become outdated. Not to those of us who truly appreciate the classics, anyway.

But, Suzie had refused to take off that electroshock Chihuahua collar around my waste. So, every time I tried to laugh at one of those classic jokes, the collar would stifle me with a mood-killing zap! Still, I didn't want to appear ungrateful to Suzie for her thoughtfulness. So, when she discretely asked me, outside the theater, how I had enjoyed the two vampire films, I gave her two thumbs' up.

I could only hope that tomorrow night's festivities would improve Marie Stark's mood to the point where she was less resentful of "Chris Caulder." And, thereby, hopefully more willing to listen to reason.

tbc