Pleasant Harbor

by Thomas Bloom

  “Understood. I’m torn. I’m going to do something tomorrow that I haven’t done in years.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m going to church and pray.”

  When he walked in the following evening she was at the kitchen table with a beer in front of her. “So?”

  “I prayed and I thought. One of the things that I thought of is that there have been millions of men in the history of this country who have gone off to war because it was the right thing to do. They all left family and better prospects. And many of them did not come home or they came home physically maimed or mentally scarred for life. This is our war Amanda. We did not start it but it has become ours now. I don’t want to go. I just want to live a peaceful life with you and watch the kids grow up. But if I don’t do this then no one else will. This man does not deserve to spend another day free and I will not have a peaceful day the rest of my life if we let him get away.”

  Amanda grimaced and looked down. “I understand. It’s what I expected. But I will not sleep until it’s over. What do you plan to do?”

  “I need to think this through well before I actually go. You know the college fund we set up for the kids from the proceeds of my house?”

  Amanda nodded.

  “I need to take twenty thousand of it to fund the trip. I will not spend a dime more than necessary but I need to be able to move and react as necessary.”

  She rose and walked to him. “Okay, first hold me tight for a minute and then let’s talk about what you’ll need.”

  Chapter Eighty One

  Two weeks later Amanda dropped Dusty off at the departure zone of O’Hare. They stood at the curb and she gave him a long hug and a kiss. “Call me when you can. But until I pick you up here it will not matter. God be with you.”

  He picked up his bags and turned and entered the terminal. She just stood there with tears running down her cheeks. One of the departure agents finally came up to her and said “lady, you can’t just park here. You have to move.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and returned to the car.

  “Dusty followed the same path as Croft. The only airline that flew into Apia, the capitol of Samoa, was Air New Zealand. And they only flew that route from Auckland, New Zealand. So the logical route was Chicago to Los Angeles to Auckland and Auckland to Apia.

  A day and half later Dusty disembarked in Apia with a small bag and a backpack. Among the other passengers behind him were two tall, well fit men each with only a backpack. They moved casually into the terminal with the rest of the passengers. A visa was not required but before Dusty could clear the entry area he had to show a valid passport which would not expire for at least six months, a return airline ticket, a bank statement proving that he was not destitute, a valid visa to re-enter New Zealand and he had to state his intended place of accommodation and the reason for his visit. To the last item he answered fishing and scuba diving. There were a limited number of hotels in town. He had picked one of the mid-priced ones on the road that ran along the harbor. It was late in the afternoon and he was exhausted. He checked in and went to bed. Time to go to work in the morning.

  Dusty had altered his appearance as much as possible in two weeks. His hair was dyed brown and he had a scraggly beard, also dyed. He wore a floppy hat and sunglasses. His clothes were tourist chic—a Hawaiian shirt, a pair of Bermuda shorts and sandals. He found a small diner for breakfast then wandered down Beach Road which ran along the harbor. After an hour or so he came to a large traffic circle with some government buildings and several banks in the area. He bought a newspaper and found a park bench. He pretended to read but spent most of his time just watching the foot traffic. So far language had not been a problem. Both English and Samoan were official languages and everyone he had met so far spoke passable English.

  The chance of seeing Randall Croft wander past his bench was near zero but that was not his plan. He was just trying to get a feel for the town. The two men who had followed him into the airport were working for him. They were ex-Australian special forces and had extensive experience working the western Pacific. They had two instructions. First, watch his back. If, by chance, Croft tried something they were to stop him but not harm him. Second, to use their contacts in the area to help locate Croft under his alias, Mark Putney. Dusty had found them through an ex-college classmate who had gone into the service and had ended up a SEAL. They went by the names Tim and Andy. Dusty did not know their real names and did not want to. They had originally asked for one thousand a week, each, plus expenses. After Dusty explained who he was and why he was traveling to Samoa they agreed to work for expenses.

  Dusty spent a couple of hours on his park bench and then found a small restaurant for lunch. The staple entrée seemed to be fish, which made sense, and a choice of potatoes or some local vegetables he was not familiar with. He went with the potatoes. He also had a glass of a good local beer. The fish was baked and covered with a sauce that appeared to be a mixture of coconut and soy sauce. It was not at all bad. As he was finishing up his phone rang.

  “Yes.”

  “Good news, sir. This guy is not hiding. He bought a house in the high rent district almost as soon as he got here. He’s also bought a yacht. It’s a twenty-five footer, sleeps four but is small enough to be handled by one person. It’s in the yacht basin. He spends more time on the boat than at his home. There’s a restaurant named ‘Sally’s’ just across the road from the marina. He has dinner there most nights.”

  “How the hell did you get all this in just a few hours?”

  “Like I said sir, he is not hiding. But it did cost us a couple hundred to get the prompt service. That will be on our bill.”

  “Great work. I think I’ll have dinner at Sally’s tonight.”

  “Understood, sir. But once he knows you’re here the game changes. He will consider taking some kind of action. Not personally, but there are people here who will do whatever for enough money. It is already common knowledge that he has a lot of money. That’s why you hired us but understand we are not an army. The quicker we bring this to a head the better.”

  “Understood. Just remember the plan. I cannot put it in motion without making contact with him. Then we’ll just have to see how he reacts. Did you make the plant I asked you to do?”

  “Yes sir. We can activate it with a phone call.”

  “Good work. I’ll call you after dinner and let you know how he reacts.”

  At six Dusty walked into Sally’s and took a seat at the bar. He ordered a draft beer and watched the dining area. A half hour later he saw Croft enter and immediately be escorted to a table by the window with a view of the harbor. It was a small table with two chairs. Croft was obviously a regular and a big tipper. A waiter brought him a drink as soon as he sat down.

  Dusty walked over to the table and took the other chair. “Hello, Randall. Great view, huh? Mind if I join you?”

  Croft looked stunned. He stared at Dusty a minute in confusion. “Chief? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to you Randall. We figured out why you ran here. No extradition treaty, right? But you have to know that I brought a full file from my department, and Amada’s and the FBI documenting what you have done in Michigan over the last several months. That file was turned over to the U.S. embassy and they will take it to the Samoan government with a request for extradition. Even though there’s no treaty that doesn’t prevent the government from granting extradition if they think the situation is sufficiently egregious. The Samoan government doesn’t move very fast. Even if they decide to act it will probably take them a few weeks so you have some time. But after that you will never know when you might get that knock on the door. I hear you bought a boat. Something to get away on fast?”

  “Screw you Donavan. The Samoan’s don’t like the American government and they are highly unlikely to act on any request for extradition. I’ve only been here for a few weeks but I already have friends and contacts. If anything is likely to happen I’ll k
now about it first. This is a poor country and I’m a rich man. A little money in the right places does wonders.”

  “That’s understood. But what makes you think you’re the only one that can throw around money. The FBI has no presence here but they do have access to cash when they need it. You’ve killed two FBI agents and a harmless bystander not to mention three totally innocent women plus an act of kidnapping across state lines, which is a federal offense. God knows what you would have done to our kids if you had time. Plus you’re indirectly responsible for several other deaths. You’re a one man death squad. The U.S. government wants you real bad. I’m not alone here. There are other people working undercover on the island to see that you face justice. Time is on our side. Sooner or later we will find a way. You could save everyone a lot of trouble and just turn yourself in. Enjoy your dinner.” As Dusty got up he reached across the table and tipped over Croft’s drink. The glass spilled on the table but mostly on Croft’s crotch.

  “You son of a bitch. I’ve out thought you so far. I’ll out think you again.”

  “Maybe so,” Dusty said as he walked away. “We’ll see.”

  As soon as he was back in his room Dusty called Tim and Andy. “Okay, he’s spooked. He talking a tough game but I’ve known him for years and I could tell by the look on his face that he’s scared. He did threaten me with indirect attack so you need to keep up the watch but I think what threw him was the fact that I told him that the U.S. Embassy has a full file and will request extradition. We need to go to phase two tomorrow.”

  “Got it. One of us will be there in the morning. The other is watching your back.”

  “When do you guys sleep?”

  “When we can. It’s part of the trade.”

  Chapter Eighty Two

  Croft slept on his boat most nights. When he arose the next morning he took a walk around his deck. He immediately noticed that there was a man sitting on a bench on the dock staring directly at him. The man appeared to be well over six feet tall and very fit. He was in a camouflage outfit with combat boots. He wore a service belt with several packets on the belt. Croft could not tell what was in the packets but there did not appear to be any weapon. The man nodded and smiled and then gave him a thumbs up.

  Fuck this, Croft thought. He called the local emergency number. Given the efficiency of the local police it was twenty minutes before a squad car slowly pulled into the marina parking lot. Two officers emerged and walked down the dock. It was only then that Croft saw that the man was gone. So what was his complaint? A man had set on a bench on the dock and then left?

  “Never mind. I saw someone who looked threatening but he left. But thank you for coming.”

  The policemen gave him an odd look and left.

  Can’t repeat that, Croft thought, or they won’t come if I really need them.

  He had another boating lesson scheduled for that morning. He was paying the owner of the marina where he had bought the boat to show him how to operate and maintain it. Every few days they took a cruise out into open water. Croft had purchased charts of the area but he wanted input on winds, tides and hidden reefs. Samoa was in the center of what was known as Oceania or the Polynesian Archipelago. There were hundreds of islands within the area, most inhabited but many just sand spits in the ocean. What Croft wanted most of all was the ability to navigate using the GPS system built into the boat. It was not terribly complicated but he wanted to be sure that he had mastered it. One misstep in the open ocean could spell disaster. Croft was always careful to stay within the twelve mile limit of the shore which marked Samoan national waters.

  When they returned from his lesson later that morning there was another man sitting on the same bench on the dock. He was dressed much the same as the first. He looked a little bigger and a little more fit, it that were possible. He also smiled, waved and gave Croft a thumbs up.

  The hell with this, Croft thought. As soon as the boat was tied up he walked up to the man. “Can I help you with something?”

  “No mate, just taking a walk and enjoying the view. Pretty day, heh.”

  The man sauntered off. He had an Australian accent but Croft wasn’t sure if that had any significance. Something was up, that was for sure. These two guys had not just materialized by chance on the same day. They were not Samoan and did not seem to be American. What the hell was going on?

  Think, Croft, think. The FBI wanted him but had no leverage on this island. He had found a local attorney to whom he paid a large retainer to find someone in the local government who would know if any activity of any kind was occurring regarding his presence. He had paid that man a modest retainer and told him that he if brought him any information that it would be worth a large bonus. He had heard nothing. He was covered. So what was Donovan up to? Of course. They were trying to spook him. To get him to run someplace where he would not be legally protected. So he would not run. It was just that simple. Donavan was a policeman. He would not do anything on the island that could possibly get him crosswise with the local law. The two big guys were almost certainly working for him. All he had to do was to keep his cool and nothing would happen. All three of them were here on two week visitor’s permits. After that they had to leave or go through a lengthy process to apply for an extension. He would pay his local government guy another retainer to tell him if that was happening. All he had to do was to stay put for another week or so and they would be gone. Just don’t spook, even if they try something more aggressive. Plus, he had something aggressive of his own planned.

  Dusty called a conference in his room that afternoon. “Okay guys, we’ve made an impression on him but I don’t think it’s enough. One of the things we learned about Croft as we put together all his crimes is that he’s very intelligent and inventive. I hate to admit it but he was one step ahead of the local police and the FBI all the way. When necessary, he’s also fearless and ruthless. The only reason we caught him was the result of some very good police work by the FBI and an incredible coincidence.”

  Dusty told them about the gum wrapper. “Something that simple but it broke it open. You never know. Anyway, I want to put on some more pressure. I think the only thing that is going to move him is the fear that the local government is actually going to act on the request for extradition. I’ve got one idea. Any suggestions from you?”

  “Just one,” Tim said. “The guy we got our information from is in the customs department. For a few more bucks I think we can get him to come down to the dock in uniform and ask a few questions. That’s sure to get Croft thinking. What are you planning?”

  “I’m going to tell him an outright lie. The FBI wants him so bad that they’ve pressured the President of the United States to make a call to the Samoan Prime Minister asking for his extradition. Croft may suspect a lie but can he bank on it? Plus, I’ve thought of another way to spook him. Let’s give the locals multiple tips that he’s dealing drugs. That might get their attention.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Andy said. “How do you want to play it?”

  “Let me go first, tomorrow morning. And you get your guy to show up in the afternoon.”

  At seven in the morning Dusty was sitting on the bench opposite Croft’s boat. Croft did not appear until a little after eight. He took one look at Dusty and said “Christ, you again? You’re wasting your time Donavan. I’ve figured out your game and it’s not going to work. I’ve got an extended visitor’s permit and I’m good for at least a year. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “A little news, the U.S. government wants you real bad. So bad that our President has called the Samoan Prime Minister to personally request your extradition. He sweetened the pot by offering a few hundred million in foreign aid. One of the conditions of which is that U.S. Naval vessels get the right to dock in Samoan harbors for the next ten years. Check it out with your contacts.” Dusty got up and walked away.

  Shit, Croft thought. He had contacts but they did not necessarily extend into the office of the Prime Minister. What to do? T
he first thing was to cruise across the harbor and top off both his tanks. The second thing was a trip to the local supermarket where he bought a full two weeks of provisions. The third thing was a call to his attorney to whom he offered a great deal of money for any information on his extradition.

  About noon he came up for air and saw a uniformed customs officer standing on the dock. “Mr. Croft, I am here to verify your presence. We have information that you have provisioned your craft for a long cruise. Are you planning on leaving Samoan waters? You must know that if you leave Samoan waters you will be in violation of your residency permit and may not be allowed to return.”

  “I haven’t seen much of the Island except for the capitol. I was just planning to cruise around the island and see some of the sights.”

  “May I suggest you hire a guide? There are many reefs and hidden obstacles.”

  “I’ve been taking lessons. I’ll be alright.”

  The officer shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

  “Well that went rather well,” Dusty said when they met later. “Your customs guy did a great job. I think he needs just one more push.”

  The pier was several hundred yards long. Croft had the best and most expensive slip at the end of pier. He had not slept well and was up early. The first thing he did on waking was to blow the bilges to clear out any fumes. He could now start the engines immediately. Then he brought in all the mooring lines except for one on the bow and one astern. He wanted to be ready for anything. About 9:00 in the morning a police car pulled up followed by a military style truck with a canvas cover over the rear. Two officers got out of the car and a half dozen policeman in full gear jumped from the rear of the truck. They wore helmets, had on body armor and carried automatic weapons. The two officers stood by the car while the policemen started down the pier. They spread out with three on each side. As they progressed forward they checked each boat they passed but did not stop. By the time they were half way down the pier Croft’s boat left its slip and headed toward the mouth of the harbor at full speed.