by Len Maynard
‘No,’ he said. ‘You hold on to it, as a mark of good faith.’
‘Okay. But…’
I was interrupted by Jack’s voice blaring from the radio. ‘Luis? Luis! Come in. Is the job done?’
‘Fetch Luis up here. I don’t want Jack getting suspicious and running. I want to nail that bastard.’
As Alan went to get Luis and bring him to the wheelhouse, I listened to Jack repeating the message over and over, each time getting a little more irate and a little more impatient.
Finally Alan returned, holding on to Luis by the collar of his shirt. In his other hand was Maritza’s machine pistol, and he’d rammed the barrel under Luis’s chin.
Jack sounded again, swearing this time.
‘Right, listen to me and listen carefully,’ I said. ‘Tell him the job’s done. We’re all over the side and you’re heading back to Watt’s Cay. Got that?’
Luis spat in my face.
As I wiped the saliva from my cheek I said, ‘You’ll tell him, or you and your friends will find yourself swimming home. But just so you know, there’s blue shark in these waters, and I’ll make sure all three of you will be bleeding when you enter the water. They’ll sense you from a mile away, maybe more. So I think it’ll be a short swim.’
Fear flashed in his eyes. He said something in Spanish that sounded crude, but held out his hand for the handset.
‘It’s Luis.’
‘About fucking time!’ Jack came back. ‘What’s the score?’
‘It’s done. All of them. We’re coming back.’
‘Good. I’ll see you when you get here.’
I took the handset back from him. ‘Get him and the other two below,’ I said to Alan. ‘And lock them in.’
I was finally alone in the wheelhouse. I could see Watt’s Cay, a speck in the distance. Although it was raining heavily now and the sea was getting choppy, we would make it back before the storm. But in my head another storm was raging.
60
Julius joined me in the wheelhouse.
‘Did you get the Cubans below?’ I said.
‘They’re secure. Are you planning to tie up at the jetty?’
We were half a mile out and my plans were still a woolly tangle in my head. ‘I don’t know what’s for the best. If Jack’s watching from the house he’ll see there’s something wrong.’
‘Alan moored his boat in a cove on the west of the island that can’t be seen from the house. We could tie up alongside and make land that way.’
‘Yes, but Jack’s expecting the Cubans. He’ll get suspicious if I don’t take the boat back soon.’
‘Then go round to the west to where Alan’s moored, and then you and the others change boats and leave me to take this one back to the jetty. He won’t question a black face at the wheel. He’ll think it’s Miguel. We’re about the same size and I’ll keep my face averted. He won’t suspect anything.’
It sounded like a plan. ‘Okay. We’ll leave Stevie, Billie, and Sam on the boat, then Alan and I will get to shore and make our way to the house. We’ll signal you when we get there. Take the wheel. I’ll go and tell the others what’s happening.’
When I told them Sam and Billie looked relieved.
‘I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day,’ Billie said.
‘Yeah, I’ll second that. Though this is going to make one hell of a story. The Post will be tearing my arm off to get hold of it.’
‘How are we going to signal Julius when we get to the house?’ Alan said.
‘There’s a flare gun in a locker below,’ Stevie said. ‘I saw it when I was looking for the rope to tie those bastards up. Oh, and I’m coming with you and Alan.’
‘No!’ Billie said. As we turned to look at her the blood rushed to her cheeks, and she blushed. ‘I mean, there’s no point risking your life like that. You’ve been through so much already.’
‘I’ll be fine, hun,’ Stevie said. ‘I want to witness the fall of Jack Dylan. I want it more than anything else in the world.’
‘When she’s in this kind of mood,’ I said to Billie. ‘You won’t get anywhere trying to change her mind.’ To Stevie I said, ‘Go and fetch the flare gun.’
Alan and I went back to the wheelhouse. ‘So, are those two an item?’ Alan said.
‘Stevie and Billie?’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But then I don’t know a thing about any of my friends, do I?’
Julius brought us up alongside Alan’s Princess V85 V Class Sports Yacht. Eighty-five feet of sheer class, and the type of boat I could only own in my dreams. We climbed aboard and Julius moved the other boat away.
‘There is a slight problem with this plan,’ Alan said. ‘I went across to the Cay in the dinghy. It’s still there. I have a small inflatable, but we’ll have to row.’
‘That’s not a problem,’ Stevie said. ‘Though calluses might not sit well with your manicure.’ She was baiting him.
‘I’ll live with it,’ he said.
Calluses were the last thing on my mind as I took up the oars. The wind had increased dramatically as the storm approached the shore, and it was raining heavily. The sea was starting to get rough, and it took all my strength to keep us on course. The waves were lifting the lightweight inflatable and carrying it along for a while before dropping us into a trough.
The constant impacts were jarring my teeth.
Both Alan and Stevie were grim faced, and I guess all of us were wondering if we were going to make it to shore alive. Stevie glanced behind her and said, ‘Harry!’ The warning was in her voice, but I’d already seen the wave. It was at least twenty feet high and was barreling down on us. It picked us up like flotsam, and we rode it for what seemed like an eternity. The oars were ripped from my grasp and went spinning off into the storm. The inflatable flipped and the three of us were flying through the air.
I landed flat on my back on the white sand shore, air rushing out of me like an express train. I lay there winded for an age with the rain lashing my face before turning my head to see if I could see the others.
The first thing I saw was the inflatable. It had been carried several hundred yards inland and was upside down on the sand. The oars too had made it to the cay. I thought vaguely that I should gather them up and stow them somewhere safe in case we needed them later, but then I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned my head more to get a clearer view.
It was Stevie. She was sitting up, rubbing the back of her head and drawing in long, deep breaths, letting the rain pummel her and wash the salt water away. Beyond her Alan lay face down in the surf, and I couldn’t tell if he were alive or dead. Stevie crawled over to him, rolled him over, and checked for a pulse in his neck. ‘He’s alive,’ she called.
Alan coughed once and sat up, looking about him with wild and frightened eyes. ‘What the fu…?’
‘It’s okay. We made it,’ I shouted.
‘Jesus!’ he said.
‘Are you both all right?’
‘I cracked my head, but I’ll live,’ Stevie called above the howl of the storm.
Alan just nodded and pushed himself to his feet, leaning into the wind to maintain his balance.
‘Do you still have the flare gun?’ I shouted to Stevie.
Panic flared momentarily in her eyes. She checked the waistband of her shorts and produced the gun, raising it high. ‘Got it. Seem to have lost the extra flares, though.’
‘Don’t worry. We should only need the one. Come on. Let’s get out of this weather.’
61
The storm wasn’t as fierce as Noel, the tropical storm that had swept through this part of the world in 2007 and claimed over a hundred lives, but it was wild enough.
We made our way inland, fighting the storm all the way. We were soaked to the skin, and the wind was chilling us, as well as making it very difficult to walk.
‘This is useless,’ I shouted. ‘We can’t fight it.’
Alan brought his face to within inches of mine. ‘What do you s
uggest?’
‘There,’ I said. We were five hundred yards away from the ramshackle house that held the children. ‘We’ll sit out the worst of it there.’
‘What about Julius?’ Stevie said. She’d joined the huddle.
‘He’s no fool. He won’t be expecting us to signal him any time soon. He’ll wait on the boat until we do.’
By the time we reached the broken-down porch of the house Stevie was shivering. I hammered on the door. A storm shutter was swinging backwards and forwards in the wind, banging against the side of the house. With that and the howling wind it was hardly surprising that Elena did not respond. I tried again and called out this time, but the words were whipped away by the wind as soon as they left my lips. ‘It’s no use,’ I said to the others. ‘We’ll try round the back. There may be a door open.’
‘To hell with that,’ Alan said, and kicked out at the door; it shook a little in its frame but stayed shut. ‘Both of us, together,’ Alan said.
We kicked and the door crashed inwards.
Elena stood there, just inside the doorway. She was holding a shotgun, but I could see from her eyes she wasn’t going to use it. She was too young, and this was beyond her sphere of experience. Added to which she was frightened, badly frightened.
Stevie took a step inside the house, swung a left hook, and caught Elena just under the eye. The girl dropped the shotgun and threw her hands to her face. Stevie drew her fist back to hit her again.
‘That’s enough,’ I said.
Alan and I stepped inside and pushed the door closed. Elena had sunk to her knees and was sobbing. We pulled her upright. ‘Is anyone else here?’
‘Only the children,’ she gasped between sobs.
We took her into one of the downstairs rooms and sat her down on a threadbare couch. ‘It’s all right, we’re not going to hurt you,’ I said to her.
She looked up at me with frightened rabbit eyes. ‘She hit me,’ she said, switching her attention to Stevie.
‘Well, to be fair, you were pointing a shotgun at us,’ Alan said.
‘It’s not loaded.’
‘Well, she didn’t know that when she hit you,’ I said. ‘Stevie, go up and check on the children. They’re probably scared out of their wits.’
‘I’m not a fucking nursemaid.’
‘Please.’
Stevie made a grand shrug and left the room. I turned back to Elena. ‘Is there any way to contact anybody? A phone, radio?’
‘In the next room. A radio.’
‘Keep an eye on her. I’ll check it out,’ I said to Alan.
A table stood in the middle of the adjoining room, and on the table a short-wave radio transmitter. Jack or Kim probably used it to communicate with the boats that came in to pick up the children.
I switched it on and turned the dial. I’d have to broadcast on an open channel, as I had no idea of the frequency of Jack’s radio on the boat. It was hit and miss. Getting through to Julius without alerting anyone else would be a matter of luck. I hit the button. ‘Julius, this is Harry. Come in.’
I was hoping Julius had the radio switched on, but there was no response. I tried again. The third time round the speaker crackled and Julius’s voice rang out. ‘Harry, man, where are you?’
‘Sheltering from the storm. It’s too fierce to get to the house. Visibility is poor. How are you doing?’
‘Tossing about like a pea in a pot. But I’m hanging in there. I wouldn’t like to be the Cubans at the moment; they’re probably being thrown about in the hold.’
‘My heart bleeds. It’ll do them good to suffer. Listen, we’re going to give the storm a few hours to die down. I’ll call you again when we’re ready to move on Jack.’
‘Got it. I’ll wait to hear from you.’
Alan was sitting next to Elena on the couch when I returned to the other room. ‘I got through to Julius,’ I said.
‘Good. Elena and I have been having a little chat. The boat from Florida’s due here at eleven tomorrow. It’s only a small craft with a three-man crew. I think we can take them if worst comes to worst.’
‘You mean if we’re stuck here until the boat arrives.’
‘We don’t know how long this storm’s going to take to blow itself out. It could well be that we’re here tomorrow. You really need to rethink your plan.’
That wasn’t going to be easy as I didn’t have a plan. I’d been winging it ever since we overpowered the Cubans. If anything was driving me onwards it was the overwhelming desire to bring Jack and Kim to justice, and to stop any more children from being sold into slavery, but the finer points that make up a plan of action remained elusive.
Julius’s voice sounded from the radio speaker in the other room.
‘Julius, I hear you.’
‘Just listened to the weather report. The storm’s going to turn in a couple of hours, so we might be able to…’
His next words were drowned out by what sounded like a gunshot. A few seconds later another voice came over the speaker.
‘Is that you, Harry?’ Jack said.
I hesitated for a moment before I said, ‘Yes, Jack, it’s me.’
‘Damn it. I thought you were dead.’ There was a mocking tone to his voice.
‘Put Julius on.’
‘Difficult. He’s too busy bleeding.’
‘You bastard!’
‘Harsh words, Harry. Harsh words. Now you have a choice. Either you get your ass back here or I let your friend bleed himself to death. What’s it to be?’
I didn’t need to think about it. ‘Okay, Jack, you win. Stop Julius’s bleeding. Keep him alive. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’
‘I’m looking forward to it already.’
The radio went dead.
As I walked back into the other room Alan said, ‘You look ill. What’s happened?’
I told him.
‘Shit! Does he know I’m with you?’
‘He’ll know that as soon as he releases the Cubans and speaks to them.’
‘No, they’ll tell him I helped you, but he won’t know I’m still with you. You can tell him I took off on my boat. He won’t know I didn’t.’
It was an idea, but I didn’t think Jack would swallow it. ‘We have Elena. We could trade her for Julius.’
‘Believe me, Harry, I know Jack better than anyone. He’d put a bullet between her eyes rather than let you use her as a bargaining chip. Let’s go and give Jack what he wants. We’ll work out how to handle this on the way.’
I sighed. It had been a long day; and it had just gone from bad to worse. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let’s do it.’
62
Jack was waiting at the door of Kim’s house, an automatic in his hand, watching me as I struggled against the buffeting wind along the winding path.
‘I should kill you now,’ he said.
‘Why don’t you then? You’re the one holding the gun.’
‘All in good time.’
‘Where’s Julius?’
He pressed the barrel of the automatic into my side and patted me down, looking for a weapon. Finding none, he said, ‘Get inside.’
Julius was lying on one of Kim’s leather couches with a blood-soaked cotton pad taped to his chest. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply.
‘I think I missed his lung when I shot him, but never mind,’ Jack said.
Kim sat on the other couch, her legs crossed, a glass of brandy in her hand. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘Here we are again, just the four of us. How cosy. Where’s Alan?’
That question had been following me around for days, and I was getting sick of it.
At the sound of our voices Julius’s eyes flickered open. He stared up at me from the couch.
‘How do you feel?’ I said.
‘It could have been worse. I’ll live,’ he said. ‘I let you down. Sorry, man.’
‘You did no such thing. Don’t talk. Save your strength.’
‘Very touching,’ Jack said. ‘But you haven’t
answered Kim’s question. I know he was with you, so where is he now?’
‘He took off once we reached his boat,’ I said.
Jack pressed the gun harder into my ribcage. ‘Now why do I find that hard to believe?’
‘It’s true,’ I said. ‘He knew if he stayed with me I’d turn him over to the authorities.’
Jack exchanged looks with Kim. She raised her eyebrows. ‘Why would you turn him in? He’s your best friend. Oh no…of course, he’s your brother. Sorry, Harry, you’re going to have to do better than that.’
‘He’s telling the truth,’ Julius said. ‘Alan Lancaster’s scum.’
‘He stopped being my friend the day he threw his lot in with you and your filthy business. He killed any loyalty I might have for him when he let his wife and daughter get blown to bits.’
Kim put her glass down on the coffee table and got up from the couch. ‘Jack, a word.’
With the gun Jack urged me to sit on the couch next to Julius. ‘One wrong move and I’ll blow your head off.’
Kim had crossed to the far side of the room. Jack joined her and they started to talk quietly, occasionally glancing back to where we sat.
‘Are you really okay?’ I whispered to Julius.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’m letting them think it’s worse than it is. Biding my time.’
‘Where are the Cubans?’
‘He dragged them up from the hold, got the information he wanted, then cut their throats and threw them over the side,’ Julius said. ‘Shark bait.’
‘More loose ends tidied away.’
‘He’s a psychopath, Harry.’
I glanced across at Jack, who was still talking to Kim. ‘Yes, I think he is.’
Suddenly he wheeled away from her and pulled his gun, aiming at the door on the far side of the lounge. ‘You can come in now, Alan. We’ve been expecting you.’