An Easy Sail_A Connie Barrera Thriller_The 8th Novel in the Series_Mystery and Adventure in Florida and the Caribbean

by Charles Dougherty

  "Puerto Rico? But you said — "

  "Their captors flew them there, and he followed. While we were talking, he saw them all getting in a big chopper with Coast Guard markings. But he said the pilot didn't look like he was in the Coast Guard. They took off heading south. He decided to join us here, figuring they might lead us to Montalba," Paul said.

  "That's bound to be SpecCorp," Luke said.

  "Yes, that's what Sharktooth figured, as well," Connie said.

  "So he's following their trackers?" Luke asked.

  "Not yet," Connie said. "They haven't turned them on. He said they had agreed to wait until they thought they'd reached their destination. That way, there was less chance of the trackers being discovered."

  "Those guys must have strong nerves," Luke said. "Or a lot of faith in Sharktooth's being able to follow them."

  "From what he said, it's a game to Tiberius and Lucilius," Connie said, smiling.

  "Some game. Like Russian roulette, if you ask me. Those two are headed into trouble, for sure."

  "Sharktooth says they're carriers," Paul said.

  "Carriers? I don't follow," Luke said.

  "Carriers of trouble," Connie said. "He says they have some kind of natural immunity, like Typhoid Mary."

  "I can't believe they'd joke about a situation like this," Luke said. "I hope he's right. We may need Tiberius in court."

  "In court?" Paul asked. "Why? How?"

  "The State Attorney's thinking she may have a way to use Tiberius's testimony to get that recorded telephone conversation admitted," Luke said. "The one where Graciella called Guillermo her brother."

  "But they broke all kinds of laws," Paul protested.

  "Yeah, but they weren't cops, and they weren't working for cops when they did it. She's thinking of some kind of immunity deal for them in exchange for testifying. Don't ask me to explain it — I don't know the details. Besides, we've still got to catch the Montalbas before it matters. And then there's O'Toole."

  "How much have you told her about O'Toole?" Paul asked.

  "I haven't. She asked me if we could connect Guillermo to O'Toole, independent of the sister."

  "Whoa!" Paul said. "You haven't told her about our c.i., have you?"

  "No. I wouldn't do that without at least letting you know in advance. When I pressed her, she muttered something about a DEA contact, and then she clammed up."

  "Interesting," Connie said, trading glances with Paul. "Keep us posted on that, would you?"

  "Sure. Let me know if you hear from Sharktooth. I've gotta try to find a way to move on the Montalbas once we find them."

  "We can help with that," Connie said.

  "What? How?" Luke asked.

  Connie ignored the glare that Paul sent her way. "Paul's still a Special Deputy U.S. Marshall. Can't he arrest them?"

  "We don't have a warrant," Paul said, frowning and shaking his head.

  "Can you get a warrant, Luke?" Connie asked.

  "Probably to arrest him. I'm not sure about her, though."

  "I can do this," Sandrine said. "She is wanted for questioning in the disappearance of the fisherman, I am sure. It will take only a phone call for me to make this so. In fact, he is maybe wanted, as well, for assisting her in evading arrest."

  "Wait," Luke said. "How will you arrest them? Physically capture them, I mean."

  "I can get this authorized," Sandrine said.

  "But what about a cutter? Or a helicopter?"

  "Is no problem," Marie said. "We will provide, under contract, if Sandrine needs us."

  "Who was that?" Luke asked.

  "Someone who works with the Douane often," Sandrine said. "We use a certain contractor, sometimes. She is a trusted friend, not to worry."

  "I guess you'd better see if you can get a warrant," Paul said.

  "I'm on it," Luke said. "Call me as soon as you hear from Sharktooth."

  "Should we set off the trackers?" Lucilius asked.

  "Joe said somebody would be here to pick us up. I t'ink we should wait, mon."

  "I jus' thought we could give Sharktooth a clue," Lucilius said. "Tha's all. So he could kinda get ready fo' when we get wherever we goin'."

  "Yeah, mon. But he don' have no way to know it's a clue," Tiberius said. "He'd prob'ly t'ink it's the real t'ing."

  Lucilius nodded. "You right. Reckon we wait, then. No point in him coming' here, anyhow." They were sitting in the shade of the abandoned structure on the southern end of the island. "You t'ink tha's their real names?"

  "Joe and Bill?" Tiberius asked. "I don' know, mon. Why?"

  "Jus' making' conversation," Lucilius said. "No reason. You t'ink they told us the truth?"

  "You mean 'bout these fellas picking' us up to take us to a yacht?" Tiberius asked.

  "Mm-hmm."

  "Prob'ly," Tiberius said. "They didn't have a reason to tell us anything, so why would they make it up?"

  "Yeah. That's what I was thinking', too. I 'bout decided I don' like this," Lucilius said.

  "Because we gonna be cut off, if we on a yacht?"

  "Mm-hmm," Lucilius said. "If they keep us below deck, the trackers won't work."

  "What you t'ink we should do, mon?" Tiberius asked.

  "What Sharktooth wanted was the location of the yacht," Lucilius said. "If these boys gonna take us there, they mus' know the location."

  "Mm-hmm. Tha's true."

  "So mebbe we jus' ask them, 'stead of goin' to all that trouble," Lucilius said. "Then we could borrow their boat an' go to Dominica for a while. Visit folks. It's only three, mebbe four hours, dependin' on what kind of boat they got."

  "What about the men, though? You t'ink mebbe we take them wit' us?"

  "Mm-hmm. They can stay wit' Uncle Christian, mebbe."

  Tiberius laughed. "Everybody like Uncle Christian. Let's jus' do that, then. You t'ink mebbe these fellas let us borrow a phone so we can call Sharktooth?"

  "I 'spect so. We find out soon enough. Here comes a boat." Lucilius pointed at a speck on the horizon to the south. "Let's go upstairs. They follow our footprints to where we sittin' now, and then we drop down on top of 'em. What you t'ink?"

  "Tha's what we do, mon," Tiberius said, heading for the rusty steel steps that led up into the platform.

  "Have you heard from Tiberius and Lucilius?" Connie asked, as Sharktooth joined them on the veranda.

  He shook his head. "Jus' check the website for the tracker. They prob'ly not movin' as fast as me."

  "Have a seat," Phillip said. "Would you like anything? Coffee? Juice? A snack?"

  Sharktooth grinned. "No, thanks. I had some food on the plane. I'm okay for a little bit. Wha's gonna happen once we find this yacht?"

  "We have a helicopter standing by," Marie said. "And Clarence will lend us Midnight Thunder."

  "No Coas' Guard?" Sharktooth asked. "I thought maybe your frien' Luke would arrange for them to make the arres'."

  "He tried, but there aren't any Coast Guard units close enough, assuming the yacht's in our neighborhood," Paul said.

  Sharktooth grinned. "That's what I was hopin'. Been gettin' bored. Need a little excitement. You got room for me on Midnight — "

  He was interrupted by the ring of the satellite phone in a pouch at his waist. Taking the phone out, he looked at the caller i.d. screen and shook his head. "Strange number," he said, accepting the call.

  "Hello?" he answered, putting the phone in speaker mode.

  "Sharktooth?"

  A big grin split his face. "Tiberius, where are you boys? Why you callin', 'stead of usin' the tracker?"

  "We changed our plans," Tiberius said. "These nice men came to give us a ride to that yacht you lookin' for, but me an' Lucilius thought we'd show them Dominica instead. We t'ink they like to meet Uncle Christian."

  "We need to know where the yacht is, Tiberius. Tha's the whole point."

  "Take it easy, mon. We got this. These boys, they say the yacht named Janus, like the Roman god wit' the two faces."

 
"But where is it?" Sharktooth asked, rolling his eyes.

  "Gon' meet these boys at North 13 degrees 50 minutes, West 63 degrees, 33 minutes in about four hours, mon. You gon' be there?"

  "Mm-hmm. How 'bout you and Lucilius?"

  "There gon' be some trouble, you t'ink?" Tiberius asked.

  "Mos' likely there is," Sharktooth said.

  "Then me an' Lucilius gon' be there. Not gonna miss the excitement, mon."

  "What about the men who came to get you?"

  "They can wait here, no problem. We come back for them."

  "Where is 'here?'" Sharktooth asked.

  "Isla de Aves," Tiberius said.

  "This their phone you callin' on?"

  "Mm-hmm. We borrow it. No problem."

  "Bring it with you," Sharktooth said. "We'll call you on it to coordinate what we gon' do. Meanwhile, you go on an' head for the rendezvous, but stay below the horizon from the yacht until we talk to you."

  "Okay, mon. No problem."

  "Are you armed?" Sharktooth asked.

  "Not much. Jus' what we borrowed from these fellas. Coupla AK-47s and three Glocks. You t'ink we need more?"

  "I t'ink you be okay. How many people on this yacht?"

  "The mon wit' the hurt face an' his sister, prob'ly. They on their way there now in a helicopter, the men t'ink. The captain, an' four more crew. One of the crew flying' the helicopter, so captain an' t'ree men, until the chopper come back. That's all. Anything else you want us to ask them before we go?"

  Sharktooth looked around the group. Everyone shook their heads. "No. Keep that phone on. We'll call you when we get close."

  "Did you catch that?" Connie asked.

  "What?" Phillip asked, as the others shook their heads.

  "He said, 'the scar-faced man and his sister' were in the helicopter."

  "You're right," Marie said. "That is what I heard."

  "So Montalba has to be the scar-faced man," Connie said.

  "Then who is Berto?"Sandrine paused for a second. "Beverly said he was handsome … " Sandrine shook her head and continued. "But she did say his hand was scarred."

  "Maybe the scars on his face are fake," Connie said. "Or maybe he has a mask of some kind."

  27

  Guillermo Montalba stood on the bridge of Janus, binoculars pressed to his eyes as he swept the horizon in the fading light.

  "Do you see it, sir?" the captain asked.

  "I think so," Montalba said. "I can't make out whether it's ours, but if you say it is, I'll trust your judgment."

  "Yes, sir. I got a look at it before the sun went down. The color's right for our launch, and it's in the right place. It's bound to be them, even though I couldn't make out the details."

  "But they're not answering your radio calls," Montalba said.

  "No, sir. I can't account for that, unless there's a problem with their transceiver."

  "Did you try the satellite phone?"

  "Yes. It went to voice mail after several rings."

  "Not immediately, then?" Montalba asked, looking at the captain.

  "No, sir. Not immediately."

  "So it was turned on, and they just didn't answer," Montalba said.

  "Unless there was some network malfunction," the captain said. "It happens."

  "That would be a second coincidence," Montalba said.

  "Sir? A second coincidence?"

  "Yes," Montalba said. "It's unlikely that there would be a failure of their VHF radio and a simultaneous network malfunction affecting the satellite phone."

  "I see what you mean, sir. What should I do?"

  "How many people did you send in the launch?"

  "Three, sir."

  "Armed?"

  "Yes, sir. You said the men might be dangerous."

  Montalba considered that for a few seconds. "Are there any other vessels nearby?"

  "Nothing that's showing up on radar, sir. And I didn't see any boats except our launch before sunset. We have around a 12-mile visual horizon."

  "Does that mean you didn't spot our launch on radar?"

  "That's correct, sir. There's too much ground clutter to pick out a target that small at that distance. But we were keeping a good visual watch. That's how we spotted the launch. There's nobody around but us."

  "All right. Close the distance to within a few hundred yards of the launch. We'll put the spotlight on them and see what we see."

  "Yes, sir."

  "While we're doing that, launch a tender with three armed men. Tell them to hold off approaching the launch until we give the word. Keep the helicopter pilot aboard. Can you and he handle Janus long enough for them to bring the launch back?"

  "Of course, sir. With no problem."

  "Good. I'll be here on the bridge with you, if you need an extra hand."

  "Very well, sir." The captain picked up the intercom handset and gave orders to the man who answered. Turning to the helmsman, he said, "I'll take her from here. You go with the boat, okay? You heard the boss; hang back until we give you the word. And be ready for anything. Don't forget your weapons."

  The man nodded and left.

  "You see the motor vessel?" Sharktooth asked, the satellite phone to his ear.

  "Yeah, mon, we got him, but where you at?" Tiberius asked.

  Sharktooth and the others were aboard a strange looking, 70-foot vessel that had been provided by their friend Clarence. Named Midnight Thunder, the boat was heavily armed and capable of speeds well over 100 knots in open water. At the moment, it was drifting, the muffled engines inaudible. They were within a quarter mile of Janus and the launch.

  Midnight Thunder's exterior surfaces were all smooth curves, with no straight lines or sharp angles. The boat's matte, blue-gray finish and rounded structure made it hard to see in daylight. Riding low in the water and made of composite materials, it had no radar signature, and in the fading light, it was invisible.

  "I can't see you anywhere, Sharktooth. You sure you here?"

  "We got you in sight," Sharktooth said. "Don' worry. We usin' the night vision scope. Look like the big boat movin' your way, now. You ready?"

  "Mm-hmm," Tiberius said. "I go now; gotta pretend to be tied up, mon."

  Sharktooth disconnected the call and turned to Phillip, who held the night vision scope, his elbows braced on the coaming. "Anything happenin'?"

  "They just hoisted a big RIB over the side — 7-meter Zodiac, I'd say. Three men in it. Whoa! Damn!" Phillip said, as Janus's spotlight lit the drifting launch that carried Tiberius and Lucilius.

  "You okay?"

  "Snow-blind," Phillip said, blinking. "So much for my night vision." He passed Sharktooth the night vision scope and picked up a pair of binoculars. "There they go. Janus has stopped; looks like he's drifting. The RIB is approaching the launch. Let's go. Everybody get in position."

  The man at the helm, one of Marie LaCroix's people, engaged the transmission and Midnight Thunder began to glide toward the stern of the big motor yacht. Sharktooth moved to the bow, a grappling hook and a coil of line in his hands. Phillip stood beside him with an M4 set for fully automatic fire. Connie and Paul waited a few feet behind them in the cockpit with their own M4s.

  "Comm check," Phillip said, under his breath. "Six here, over." They all wore scrambled UHF radios with throat mics and earpieces.

  "Two, over," Sharktooth said.

  "Three, over," Connie said.

  "Four, over," Paul said.

  "Thunder base, over," Marie said. She was staying aboard Midnight Thunder with Sandrine and the helmsman.

  "Go," Phillip said, as Midnight Thunder stopped about a foot from Janus's stern.

  Sharktooth tossed the padded grappling hook up, tugging on the line as the hook caught on Janus's stern rail. He went up hand over hand as Phillip stood, his M4 at the ready.

  "Ladder," Phillip heard as he saw Sharktooth facing forward, unslinging his weapon.

  He clipped the rope ladder to the line that hung from the grappling hook and said, "Ladder r
eady, over."

  Sharktooth pulled the ladder up and made it fast to the stern rail. "Ladder's up, over."

  Connie scrambled up the ladder, Paul right behind her. The two of them unslung their weapons and moved to the corners of the aft deck, covering the side decks. Phillip clambered over the stern rail and he and Sharktooth moved forward, one on each side.

  "Starboard ladder to the bridge, six," Phillip said.

  "Portside ladder, two," Sharktooth said.

  Connie trotted to the starboard ladder as Paul went to the other one.

  "Three, ready," she said.

  "Four, ready. Let's go," Paul said.

  "What the hell!" the captain said. He and Montalba watched from the bridge, helpless, as Tiberius and Lucilius stood up in the launch, automatic rifles in hand as the Zodiac RIB approached them. One of the men in the RIB raised his own weapon, and Tiberius opened fire, emptying his magazine. As soon as his weapon went silent, Lucilius opened fire. When his magazine was empty, the three men in the RIB were dead and the RIB's pneumatic tubes were shredded. The RIB was sinking.

  "Run them down and then let's get out of — " Montalba's order was interrupted as the doors on each side of the bridge burst open.

  Montalba whipped his right hand behind him, reaching for a pistol in his waistband. Connie's M4 barked, and he screamed as her round tore into his shoulder.

  "Turn around," she said.

  As he complied, clutching his wounded shoulder, she stepped forward and took the pistol, tucking it in her own waistband. She stepped back and leveled her weapon.

  "Face down on the deck, or I'll blow your legs out. Both of you, now!"

  When both men were face down, Paul said, "Cover them. I'll pat them down and cuff them."

  As Paul finished reading the two men their rights, Phillip called on the UHF radio. "We've secured the vessel; the one crewman we found below deck is handcuffed to the stern rail. There's no sign of the woman."

  Connie and Paul exchanged glances. She shook her head, and Paul nodded. Neither responded to Phillip.

  "Okay," Connie said. "Where's your sister, Montalba?"

  When he didn't answer, she nudged him with her foot. "I asked you a question. Where's your sister?"