Cindy cleared her throat, “I would like to lodge an objection to that plan.”
Carol nodded, “Me too. What she said.”
Willie said, “Let’s take these two back to Pete’s. Spicey can take their boat and the gals here can hold the guns on our prisoners. How does that sound?”
Everyone agreed that sounded like a plan. Spicey hugged Mambo, and Carol and Cindy shook her hand.
When they were outside the hut, Carol squealed, “Wow, can you plan a swamp tour or what? We even get to arrest pirates!”
Spicey laughed, and waited for everyone to be seated on Willie’s boat before she pushed off. “You guys stay close to me. I might need you to shoot something.”
Carol and Cindy each held a gun. Neither one of them had ever held a gun before.
Carol looked down the barrel of Sasha’s gun, “Dang thing is sure heavy.”
Willie suggested they just lay them on the deck of the boat where they could reach ‘em quick if they needed. Those two waving those guns didn’t sit well with him at all. He was scared to death one of them was going to shoot somebody by accident.
Half way back to Pete’s their prisoners started squirming. Mambo’s itchin’ curse was starting to set in. First, they started rubbing themselves sort of casually and shifting their weight as they sat on the boat’s deck. Cindy and Carol glanced at each other and started giggling. Another five minutes and the young men were crossing their legs and covering their faces with their roped hands all the while moaning and squirming.
Willie chuckled, “You be pretty miserable by the end of the week.” Willie looked at Spicey. “Didn’t Mambo say this itch gonna last these boys a week?”
Spicey yelled over, “You two scumbags be puttin’ on quite a show. Believe in curses now?”
Carol looked at Cindy, “Isn’t this just the best vacation ever?”
Mass and two of his agents went through the front door of the casino and demanded to see the head of security. A few minutes later a man introduced himself as the head of security for the casino. Mass notified him they were there to arrest Manio. The security man read the warrant and looked at Mass.
He spoke into his shoulder radio and said, “Code red: Manio.”
The security man looked at Mass, “He’ll be warned you’re here. I need to protect the rest of our patrons.”
Mass answered, “I think we are prepared. Have your men stay out of the way. Where is Manio now?”
The man answered, “High stakes room, top floor.”
Mass nodded and said, “Let’s try to do this peaceful.”
The security man shook his head, “That’s not going to happen. He has twenty men here with him.”
Mass radioed to Roger with Manio’s location. Roger looked at Paul, “I want to chat with Manio for a minute. I want you to wait on the roof.”
Paul was stunned, “What part of that makes sense? You have lost your mind.”
Roger laughed, “I’m going to chat by phone. I want to get him moving to the roof. I need you there.”
Paul shook his head but left for the stairwell to the roof.
Roger dialed Manio, “I assume by now you know we have seized the money at French Quarter Bank. You may find it interesting that we have also seized your drugs at eight ports. Our gun train left early, already unloaded in Kansas. I’m coming for you now. RICO arrest warrant. I’m in the Casino. I would like you to turn yourself in. Fight this in the courts. No sense making a mess tonight.”
Manio spoke, his voice breaking as if he were walking fast. Roger’s earpiece told him that was exactly what was happening. Four men were walking with Manio, two were waiting in the hall. Manio said, “I underestimated you, Mr. Dance. You are a worthy opponent. However, I must decline your invitation to join you. You have been misled if you believe I will allow myself to be detained.”
The phone went dead. Thor was speaking in Roger’s earpiece. “Manio and four guys just went to the roof.”
Roger answered, “Keep that stairway clear, I’m on my way now. Don’t shoot me.”
Thor looked at Jeanne, “Let Manio and four guys through. More Manio guys on the way and Roger is coming, too. Let’s back up and take ‘em further down the hall.”
Thor and Jean positioned themselves where Thor could see who was coming from around the corner. Thor was standing in a room with the door opened so that he could see to his left through the jam and to the right directly down the hall to Jeanne. Manio and two of his immediate guards passed and entered the stairwell. Jeanne could see all of Thor and watched for his hand signals. Thor signaled Jeanne there were two men coming.
Jeanne pulled two knives from her boots and pressed herself in the threshold of a door. She waited to hear the rustle of the men’s clothing as they ran down the carpeted hall. There were gunshots coming from the roof, gunshots coming from further down the hall. Jeanne leaped to the center of the hall, and threw her knives directly into the chests of the running men. Thor motioned two more men were coming. There was no time to move the bodies. Jeanne reached down and grabbed two more knives from her boots. She stood in the center of the hall and slowly walked toward Thor. She needed to be closer to her targets. Thor’s mind was screaming, What the hell is she doing? She needs to take cover and shoot them! Thor prepared to shoot from his position.
As if Jeanne read his mind she raised her arm and shook her head. Thor realized she didn’t want to shoot them, she was going to try her knives again. HOLY CRAP! The men turned the corner. Thor signaled they were in sight. Jeanne ran forward twenty feet and stopped. The instant the men turned the corner she threw her knives. Both landed in the center of the men’s chests. One man started to rise and Jeanne kicked his head, removed her knife from his chest and slit his throat.
Roger turned the corner and Thor signaled to Jeanne, Roger was coming. There was still gunfire on the roof. Roger glanced quickly at the fallen men and ran past Jeanne and through the stairwell to the roof. Thor and Jeanne now took positions at the end of the hall to keep anyone else from entering the stairwell to the roof.
Thor looked at Jeanne. She was in a different zone. She wasn’t even breathing hard. They heard footsteps coming from the adjacent hall. It was Simon and Nelson.
Simon said, “All clear below. Just need to secure the roof.” The four of them ran for the roof stairwell. They arrived just in time to see the helicopter lifting from the pad and making a sharp turn to the south.
Simon raised his gun to fire, Roger yelled. “Hold your fire, we have him.”
Simon shook his head, “It really worked?”
Roger nodded. Nelson looked around at the bodies on the roof. He counted at least five men down. A couple seemed to be injured, not dead. John Barry and Paul had them at gunpoint. Sirens screamed from all directions converging on the casino.
In the helicopter Manio shouted to the pilot, “Thank God, it’s you. When my pilot got shot, I thought I was done.”
Mathew Core turned around and smiled, “You are. I work for the good guys now.”
The co-pilot turned around, pointed a gun at Manio, and removed his helmet.
Zack smiled and yelled to be heard above the rotors of the copter, “You are under arrest. You’re being delivered to the United States Navy. Want to have me read you your rights now or later?”
Manio looked out the side of the copter. The waters of the gulf looked black and foreboding. Core watched Manio in his mirror. He yelled at Zack, “Take over.”
Core turned to face Manio, “Remember giving the order to kidnap my wife and daughter?”
Manio went pale.
Core continued, “A sharp turn here and you just happen to fall in the gulf. Saves Dance a lot of paperwork.”
Manio scowled at Core, “Dance would never have approved that.”
Core clenched his teeth. The temptation to push Manio out was almost overwhelming. “You are probably right.” He shot Manio in the arm. “He won’t mind that though.”
The team was back at th
e field office. Roger called Catahoula after it was confirmed that Manio was in the custody of the Navy. Catahoula snickered. “Are you done in New Orleans now? Can’t be much left.”
Roger answered, “I’m afraid something is in the works, but I don’t have any details. It’s these other members of what we call LUCY. I understand there is a lot of chatter that points to some kind of retaliation.”
Catahoula sighed, “There are always going to be bad guys, Roger. Do yourself a favor and take a break. Life’s too short.”
Roger walked into the locker room at the field office where his team was replacing the equipment. The adrenaline was pumping as everyone shared their stories from the night. Roger felt a lump in his throat. He hated to say goodbye to this team. Every single one of them was special. Every single one of them would have laid down their lives for each other. Roger shook his head. He didn’t know if he could do it.
Paul looked over and knew exactly what Roger was feeling, but the time was now. Paul walked over to Roger and said, “You going to cut these guys loose? You managed not to kill them.”
Roger looked at Paul and nodded. That was the plus side of sending them home. They were safe.
Roger cleared his throat. “Could I have your attention for a minute?”
Everyone stopped talking and faced Roger. Roger smiled at them all. He hoped his voice didn’t crack when he began speaking again.
“This is tough for me.” Roger cleared his throat. “It has been an honor working with each of you. This team will be legendary in the agency. Actually, I think you already are. I am proud to have been a part of it all with you.” Roger swallowed. Looking at their faces he realized how important each of them had become to him. “I wish you all a safe and healthy future.”
Roger wasn’t much for goodbyes and he wanted the team gone before any of them got wind of the LUCY problem. They would want to help, and Roger didn’t want to risk them with some unknown LUCY plan. It was better to keep it short and send them home.
Thor asked, “You going somewhere?”
Roger chuckled, “No. You are. We are officially done in New Orleans.”
The room was silent for a minute and Nelson finally exclaimed, “I am going to be bored shitless for the rest of my career!” Laughter broke the awkward silence.
Roger and Paul stood at the door as each team member left the room. The handshakes were both a celebration of a job well done, and the sadness of leaving good friends. Simon stopped in the doorway, “Not that I haven’t had fun, but I made plane reservations for an hour from now. Mind if I take a company car to the airport?”
Roger and Paul started laughing. Roger smiled, “Do whatever you want. Are you going to keep an eye on Pablo?”
Simon nodded, “It appears I don’t have a choice. The asshole is flying out with me tonight. Like trying to shake a puppy.”
After everyone left, John Barry walked over. “We have some more LUCY chatter to talk about.”
Thor had walked back to Jeanne’s house again. He didn’t know what he would say when she came home. He knew he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life thinking he had let the moment pass. He felt in his pocket and pulled out the feather Simon had given him. Damn it all. What if she was his goose? What if he was wrong?
He leaned back in the porch chair, pushed his chin up and closed his eyes. What was he going to do? Now that the case was done, his mind was flooded with thoughts of her. The hot, sticky air made the skin on his arm shine from the porch light. He looked around, the shadows the porch light cast on the old swing almost camouflaged the potted dead plant. He could imagine her sitting there. He stretched his legs out in front of him, the muscles of his thighs pulled at the seams of his jeans, and he gave the swing a short kick. Thor listened to the rhythmic moan of the heavy chain against the support hook. He felt a cool breeze pass through and closed his eyes again.
He started to think of her. He could feel his blood flowing faster, his chest stretching the sweat stained t-shirt. He could smell the leather of his shoulder harness and the sulfur from his gun. He was drowning in his thoughts of her. He ached. Each pore of his body was acutely aware of his tension. His throat was dry and constricted. He pushed himself to sit up straight. Forced his mind to clear, and opened his eyes.
She was standing in front of him.
Jeanne leaned against the porch support. Strands of her black hair were plastered to her neck from sweat. Her chest heaved from having jogged in the thick humid air. Her thoughts had been jumbled by her desire for him. She had fought to regain control. Her punishing run had backfired. She wasn’t exhausted, she was alive. With each deep breath she felt every muscle and nerve in her body speak to her. Her skin tingled from the beads of sweat that ran down her spine.
He was here.
Their eyes locked, neither of them wanting to be the first to speak. Thor couldn’t look at her anymore. He closed his eyes for a moment so he could remind himself to breathe. He felt her touch his hand. He opened his eyes when her hand gently pulled on his. He slowly stood. Jeanne moved toward him a step, lowered her lashes slightly, and Thor felt a force field pull him to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his body. Jeanne raised her chin and her lips met his. Thor drowned in a mad swirl of passion. The porch door slammed shut behind them.
Jimmy sat on the boat with Tourey and tried again to call Core. Jimmy glanced at Tourey, “How long have you been with the company?”
Tourey answered, “Lately, I’ve been thinkin’ too long. Goin’ on twenty five years. You?”
Jimmy shuffled his body on the hard boat seat, “About ten. Met Core when I first came on. He shot my leg so he could save my life. Long story.”
Tourey just nodded. “What’s going down tonight?”
Jimmy checked his phone again for missed calls, “Got some bad dudes coming here to blow up something. I’m thinking deep water well. Nobody tells us the whole story, you know how it is.” Jimmy looked at what Tourey had brought for Core. He pointed to the items and said, “That’s some bad ass shit. I bet Core is going to make sure the backflow preventers are operable, and then set a counter charge to stop the main explosion.”
Tourey said, “That’s my guess too. I think it sounds ambitious, considering he will be fighting off whoever has been sent. He won’t have much time.”
Jimmy stood and stretched his legs, “Yeah, this one might be too much.”
Jimmy’s phone rang, it was Core. “Zack and I will be there in about ten minutes. Did Tourey show up?”
Jimmy answered, “Yes. Before you ask, I haven’t heard any more from the company.”
Core hung up and looked at Zack. “SUV at two o’clock.” Core and Zack were in the shadows at a remote airstrip east of New Orleans. Core had kept Manio’s helicopter and landed in the brush a mile away.
Zack pointed in the sky, “There they are.”
A small Cessna circled the landing strip and lowered with military precision. Four men walked down the jet’s ramp and got into the SUV. Core focused his binoculars to read the plate number on the car. He got a clear vision of the driver. Shit.
Core looked at Zack, “I know the driver. He did some work in Iraq and Afghanistan. Contractor. Him being here tells me everything I need to know about ‘what’ they plan to do. Now the question is, which one?”
Zack asked, “Which one what?”
Core answered, “They’re going to blow a live deep well. Cause a spill. This guy has done it before.”
Zack rubbed the back of his neck and followed Core back to the helicopter. Zack asked, “You think the oil company is going to blow their own rig? Isn’t that kind of stupid?”
Core laughed, “They don’t pay for it! Congress passed a legal cap on how much they can be fined and assessed for cleanup charges. Oil companies make sure there are at least three other companies with some kind of liability to keep it jammed in the courts for years. They can drag out a spill as long as needed. Let that puppy pump. Let’s say, as an example, fo
r some crazy reason their bought and paid for politician isn’t elected President. The next best thing is to stick the guy they don’t like, with a gigantic problem his first months in office. Get him to start seeing things your way as it drags out, and miraculously the spill gets fixed. It takes real skill to blow this just right.” Core frowned, “The real beauty? It gives them an excuse to raise oil prices. They actually make money from it all. Record profits. Go figure.”
Core dialed Roger, gave him the plate number of the SUV and told him what he was watching. Core ended with, “I need some good Intel fast. We definitely have a problem.”
Roger hung up from Core and relayed what was happening to Paul and John. John immediately dialed someone at OSI and Roger called the Director. Someone had to know something they weren’t sharing.
Paul walked down to Frank Mass’s office to see if he was still in the building. He was. Paul knocked on the open door, “I’m curious if you have had an update on the members of the sicko club that have met an untimely death lately.”
Mass looked at his email. “Here’s one. LA office. Number of suspicious deaths on sicko club list at ninety seven. Members warned.”
Mass looked at the rest of his emails. “Here’s another from Dallas office: Minister willing to trade info for protection. Please provide advice.”
Mass looked up at Paul, “Well? What’s our advice?” Mass was ready to answer the email.
Paul answered, “Have them call Catahoula. He might not need any more evidence.”
Paul turned to rejoin Roger and John, “Catahoula will probably tell this minister to pray.”
Ellen finished updating the Director, gave him transcripts from Donavan’s conference call, and headed for New Orleans. She called us and told us to meet her at the docks. We had been playing cards waiting for her call. It’s hard to cheat when the other players can read your mind! I still tried.
Linda said, “How much you want to bet we’re going swimming again.”
Silent Crickets: A Shallow End Gals, Trilogy Book Three Page 26