Bluewater Voodoo: Mystery and Adventure in the Caribbean (Bluewater Thrillers Book 3) Page 23
"He is no friend. He was a pervert, and a disgrace to all soldiers. I want no trouble – I only wish to live here simply with the woman I love."
"We shall see. Perhaps you may do that," the man with the pistol said. "For now, we must put you in the manacles."
The other man stepped behind the surviving marine and handcuffed him with smooth, practiced motions, pulling his hands together behind his back as he snapped the second manacle closed.
****
"Still can’t reach Vengeance," Dani said, her brow furrowed. "It’s only been 15 minutes since Liz called to tell us about the Coast Guard."
"Could be the damned sat phone; they don’t always work right at 100 knots in rough water."
They were buckled into bucket seats as Jacques tore through the choppy seas. "Want me to stop?" he asked, glancing at Phillip.
"No, I was just going to let her know where we stood," Dani answered. "We should be there in less than an hour, at this rate. It’ll keep until then. Ride’s too damn rough for conversation, anyway." She looked over at Giscard, bending over a bucket that was clamped between his knees, dry-heaving every few seconds. "Let’s just kick it in the ass and get there – wide open throttle won’t be much worse than this."
Jacques nodded his agreement and pushed the throttles to the firewall. The big turbodiesels whined as the strange vessel began to skip along at close to 200 knots, the motion like that of a stiffly sprung sports car on a washboard road surface.
Chapter 37
"Liz!" Dani called as she scrambled over the lifelines. "Nobody aboard," she said after a few seconds, pulling out her pistol as Phillip and Jacques made Midnight Thunder fast alongside Vengeance. Taking a quick look around deck, she confirmed that their dinghy trailed astern on its painter. Phillip climbed onto the side deck as she stepped into the cockpit. She peered down the companionway into the lighted cabin.
"Cover me," she said, glancing at Phillip.
He nodded as she started down the companionway ladder. He was close behind her, his eyes sweeping the space, his pistol aimed over her shoulder.
"Hello!" she called again, pausing at the base of the ladder.
Greeted by silence, she checked all the living space.
"Gone," she said, beginning a more thorough examination of the main cabin. "Our sat phone is missing, too," she said.
"I’ll get mine while you finish looking around," Phillip said, scrambling up the ladder.
He returned in less than a minute, phone in hand. "Got a ‘subscriber not available’ message when I called your number," he said. "Guess it’s not turned on."
Dani nodded absently. "Somebody fired a shot here, Phillip," she said, pointing to a splintered hole in the teak bulkhead dividing the saloon from the forward cabin. She sniffed the air a few times.
Phillip sniffed and nodded. "Cordite," he said. "Not more than a few minutes ago, probably, or the smell would have dispersed."
"Look," Dani said crouching. "Blood. Almost dry."
"Yeah," Phillip agreed. "Not much, though."
"Radar," she barked, darting to the companionway and up the ladder. Phillip followed as she scrambled aboard Midnight Thunder.
He watched over her shoulder as she played with the controls on Midnight Thunder’s military-grade radar.
"Lots of targets; looks like the Milky Way," she said. "But nothing’s moving."
"It’s 3 a.m., Dani."
"Yeah. Too early for the fishermen, too late for everybody else. I figured anything moving would be suspicious."
"That makes sense, but there are lots of hiding places close by," Phillip said.
"Yeah, too many. You thinking what I’m thinking?"
"Martinez?" Phillip asked.
She nodded. "He wanted to interrogate the professor. We don’t know when he left Polaris, but if that was a fast RIB, he could have left after dark and had time to get here."
"Fas’ RIB," Sharktooth boomed in his impossibly deep voice, startling both of them with his proximity. "Two new 200-horsepower Yamahas."
"How’s Giscard?" Dani asked. Sharktooth had been nursing the houngan through his bout of seasickness.
"He res’, now. Jacques say can I bring Giscard on Vengeance? Jacques wan’ go hide Midnight Thunder. Sunrise soon come."
"Yeah. Might as well put him aboard Vengeance. I’ll come give you a hand," Phillip said.
"I’ll go get a berth cleared off for him," Dani said, rising from her seat at the radar scope.
****
With Giscard asleep in one of the forward berths, Dani, Sharktooth, and Phillip sat around the table in Vengeance’s saloon discussing the situation. Phillip had spoken with Paul, who confirmed that the Coast Guard had put a crew on Polaris and flown the crew and the two former captives to San Juan. He said there was a Federal warrant for the arrest of Martinez, as well.
"Liz called to tell us about the Coast Guard’s change in plans just before we left Polaris," Dani mused. "And we were back here between 30 and 45 minutes later. That means Martinez snatched them no more than an hour ago."
"Yes," Phillip agreed. "He couldn’t have gone far with them, even in a 60-knot RIB. Where could he have taken them?"
"Mebbe ‘nother ship," Sharktooth offered.
"No time. When he left Polaris, remember he told Suarez to steam for the St. Lucia channel. He was probably planning to make his pickup and take everybody back to Polaris."
"Polaris wouldn’t have been able to get here much before sunup from where we intercepted her," Dani said. "He could be running north, planning to meet up with her, or he could have a place ashore nearby. Lots of remote shoreline along the south coast."
"Mebbe too rough fo’ he to run fas’, he head north," Sharktooth said.
"Yeah, that’s a good point. He would have had the wind and waves behind him on the way down, but going back with six extra people would be a different story. Besides, we would have probably seen him on the radar. He hardly had time to get around the southwest corner of Martinique to where the land would have hidden him."
"He’d have no reason to be in a hurry. Probably hiding out somewhere along the south coast, waiting for Polaris," Dani said. "Wonder when he’ll figure out that she’s not coming?"
"I’d bet he’ll start getting worried and call them right about sunup. He’d want to get aboard before daylight, if he’s that close to shore. Otherwise, somebody like a fisherman might see him. Or even French customs, if they happen to be out."
Their analysis was interrupted by the ringing of Phillip’s satellite phone. Dani picked it up from the tabletop, checking the display. "Vengeance’s phone," she said, switching on the speaker mode as she answered the call.
"This is Dani."
"I have the professor and the two women from the yacht, Vengeance. They are safe, for the moment, but if you go to the authorities, you will never see them again. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Dani said. "What do you want, Martinez?"
"Who I am doesn’t matter. I will ask them some questions. Depending on the answers, I may release them, unless you report them as missing. Then they will certainly die." The call was disconnected.
****
Moraga was exhausted from the series of flights he had taken from Guadeloupe to Miami. It seemed odd to him that connections from Guadeloupe to Europe were much better than to the mainland of North America. He had flown to Barbados, then to San Juan, and finally to Miami, all on small turboprop planes. His ears were ringing and his eyes were bleary when he stumbled down the ladder onto the pavement at the American Eagle gate in Miami. He was reaching for his gate-checked carry-on bag when the two husky men in suits skillfully cut him out of the crowd. Startled, he turned aggressively when one of them grabbed him around the left upper arm in a painful grip.
"Struggle and you’re dead, Moraga," the other man said softly, pistol held close to his hip, out of casual sight but in plain view for Moraga. "Drop the bag."
"Who are you?" Moraga asked as he complied.
"I want a lawyer."
"Yeah, well, it doesn’t work that way. You’re coming with us and you got no rights until we say so – just like where you come from, see."
A black SUV had pulled up beside the three of them as two uniformed airport policemen moved the disembarking passengers along hastily. Moraga was shoved roughly into the back, and the man with the gun followed, wedging Moraga against another bulky man who was already in the back seat.
"Cuff him tight. He’s dangerous," the man with the pistol said, standing in the door as the other man clamped the cuff onto Moraga’s left wrist, twisting his arm painfully as he grabbed his right wrist and pulled it behind him.
"Shit!" Moraga screamed in pain. The man with the pistol whipped it hard into the side of Moraga’s head.
"Take his mind off his troubles," he said, climbing into the back seat next to his prisoner and pulling the door closed.
****
"We are both intelligent men, Professor," Martinez said, taking a sip from a steaming cup of coffee. "It would be much better if you simply told me what I want to know."
"But, I’ve told you the truth!" the professor protested.
"Ha. You think I am a fool? I don’t believe your cover story. Zombies, television shows. You people usually come up with something more believable. I’m disappointed in the CIA, that you sink so low."
"CIA? I don’t know how to make you believe me. Are you going to have your bullies beat me up or something? If you beat me bloody, I still can’t tell you any more than I have."
"Oh, I’m sure that you’re trained to resist interrogation. All of us are, aren’t we? No, Professor. You know, I am sure, that I could break you, given time, with the drugs. But I don’t have time. I think that you would not want your lady to suffer for your obstinacy; you see, I have watched the two of you for some time. I know that your relationship is more than a professional cover. I think perhaps you are in love with her. She is quite beautiful. I know my men think so."
"I…, I don’t understand what you mean."
"Oh, I think you do, but I will help you. Sergeant Garcia!" Martinez yelled.
The door burst open and the burly sergeant entered, standing at attention. "Sí, Señor Martinez?"
"Have your men bring the women in here."
The sergeant nodded and left the room, returning in less than a minute with the two marines. One man had a handful of Lilly’s thick blond hair, his left hand clenched close to her scalp. His right arm was in a sling, a bloodstained bandage around his shoulder. The skin on Lilly’s forehead was stretched; tears of pain ran down her cheeks. The other man held Liz, left hand on her left shoulder, her right arm twisted behind her back. Her right eye was swollen almost shut.
"Are you okay, Lilly?" the professor asked, a tremor in his voice.
When she didn’t answer, Martinez gave her captor a slight nod and the man shook her violently by the hair. "Your friend asked you a question," Martinez said. "Answer him."
"Yes, I’m okay," she said softly, pain in her voice, as the man tightened his grip on her hair.
"You are Lilly?" Martinez asked.
"Yes."
"Do you know your boyfriend is a CIA agent?"
"What?" Lilly asked, genuine surprise and confusion in her voice.
"I thought perhaps you didn’t know. He has seen how my men and I admire you; he thinks all of us have a fascination with tall, blond women, you see. All the Anglo men think we want their women. Or maybe it is the other way; they think their women want us. What do you think, Lilly?" Martinez smiled, a cold look in his eyes.
Feeling her captor’s grip tightening again, Lilly stammered, "I…, I d-don’t know…"
"Ah! Probably you have never had a real man before. We shall remedy that. Sergeant, take them away and show them what they have been missing, but start with the tall one, first. Let the little one watch. When you have finished with Lilly, bring the other one in here before her turn. She can tell the professor how Lilly enjoyed herself. I’m sure Lilly will be beyond words. Oh, wait. What is your name?" He was staring at Liz.
She held his gaze for a moment, ignoring the pain as the man behind her put more pressure on her twisted arm. "I am Liz Chirac, and you are a dead man."
Martinez roared with laughter. "I like you, Liz Chirac. Maybe I will show you myself what a real man is like. Take them away, Garcia."
As her captor turned her away, Liz said, "Pray that you get the chance, Martinez."
"Wait!" the professor said.
"No. You will have a chance to talk before Liz has her turn, but Lilly is eager. I can see it in her eyes. You think about it, Professor. She’s never going to want you again."
Chapter 38
Phillip and Dani were still sitting at the saloon table, drinking coffee and thinking out loud when the sat phone rang again. They could hear the soft, deep rumble of Sharktooth’s snoring coming from the other forward berth, drowning out the raspy sound of Giscard’s snores. Dani glanced at the screen, confirming her suspicion that it was Martinez again, calling from Vengeance’s sat phone. "Probably figured out that Polaris is missing," she said, as she picked up the phone, answering in speakerphone mode.
"This is Dani Berger."
"Dani?"
"Liz?"
"Yes."
"Where are you?"
"A house on a beach. Looking straight south at Diamond Rock."
"What’s going on? You okay? You escape?"
There was a hissing sound from the phone and the connection dropped. Dani immediately tried calling back, but she got the ‘subscriber not available’ message. "Damn. They must have caught her and turned it off," she said, trying again.
"Or she turned it off because someone was coming. Go wake up Sleeping Beauty. I’ll see if I can catch Jacques and get Thunder back here."
While Phillip called Jacques, Dani and Sharktooth studied the detailed charts of the south coast of Martinique, north of Diamond Rock. Phillip joined them in a moment, leaning over Dani’s shoulder.
"Charts are no substitute for local knowledge," he said.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Jacques know this stretch?"
"Not so well, but Louis, the quiet guy who was with him on Thunder, does. He grew up in a little village off the west end of the beach."
"That’s great. Thunder on the way?"
"No. They’re bringing a big RIB. They didn’t think they could get Thunder close enough to the beach; if the surf’s calm, we’ll beach the RIB, but he said put on wetsuits, just in case. They’ll be here in 10 minutes, and he figures we’re another 15 from the beach. Louis says there’s a new house there that stays closed up most of the time; rumor is that it belongs to some South American drug lord. He knows the folks in the other houses along there – there aren’t many. That’s got to be the place."
"Okay. What’s the plan?" Dani asked.
"Well, we can figure Martinez has at most the three marines he picked up in St. Lucia. They won’t be expecting trouble, so the advantage is ours. Louis says there’s a lot of scrub growth between the house and the beach – 75 yards of pretty good cover. It won’t quite be sunup, so we should be able to get right up to the house without anybody noticing. Jacques is bringing AK-47s and a 12-gauge riot gun. We’ll load it with slugs for the first three rounds. You take down the front door with the slugs and Sharktooth and I will dive in with you covering us with the shotgun. Jacques can back you up and have a flash-bang ready with the pin out, just in case. We’ll want Martinez alive, but the marines don’t matter."
"Well, you’d better hope Martinez doesn’t look at me wrong. I’m still pissed about the bomb."
"Let the Feds have him, Dani," Phillip said. "Keep ‘em on our side."
She clenched her jaw and nodded her tentative agreement. "Okay, we’ll see."
"Once we’ve got everything secured, we’ll call Paul. He said he’d have O’Bri
en go through all the channels to deal with the French officials, and we’ll take Liz and your guests and disappear, kind of like we did on Polaris."
They were interrupted by the arrival of Jacques and Louis in a seven-meter Zodiac RIB with two specially muffled 300-horsepower outboards. They scrambled aboard and began sorting out their weapons as Jacques sped out of the anchorage. They ran at full throttle through the shallows along the south coast, taking advantage of the flat water. They reached their destination in under 10 minutes, and Jacques turned the helm over to Louis. There was enough surf running so that they elected not to beach the boat. Louis knew a shallow stretch, and dropped them in thigh-deep water about 30 yards from the hard-packed beach, pointing out the lights of the house before they jumped over the side.
In less than a minute, they were working their way through the scrub, watching carefully for any signs of movement outside the house. As they were about to leave the protection of the scrub, Phillip signaled them to stop. Crouching in the shadows, they studied the house; the front door was no more than 100 feet away across a patchy lawn.
"Anybody catch any motion through the windows?" Phillip asked.
The others shook their heads.
"We’ll rush the door on three. Stay spread out until we’re against the wall, just in case somebody starts shooting at us, and stay even with me. Ready?"
The others nodded, and Phillip raised one finger, then a second, and as the third went up, they took off, sprinting across the open lawn. In seconds, they were in position, and at Phillip’s nod, Dani fired three rifled slugs from the shotgun as quickly as she could pump the action; one for each hinge, and one for the lock. Sharktooth dove through the wreckage of the door, rolling to the right, with Phillip a split second behind him rolling to the left. Dani stepped over the threshold, sensing Jacques close behind her, his flash-bang grenade at the ready.
Lilly was crouched in a corner, bent over the unconscious form of the professor. Liz sat at a table to one side of the room, a pistol held loosely in her hand. "Man, you guys are good," she said. "Almost like you’ve done that before."