Once that was done, the rest was simple enough. I needed to find the tracker and put the spoofer as close to it as possible. The tracker had an internal timer. Every 30 minutes, it would wake up, acquire a GPS position, and broadcast it to a satellite monitoring system where the people following us could retrieve our location.
When the tracker woke up, the spoofer would be broadcasting a counterfeit GPS signal. Being near the tracker, the spoofer would override the signals from the real GPS satellites. The tracker would compute its location using the counterfeit GPS signals and broadcast its bogus position to the monitoring system. To whoever was watching, the tracker would appear to be moving along the route I programmed into the spoofer. I was putting things away and getting ready to take the spoofer up on deck when Mary called out.
"Hey, Finn!"
"Yes?"
"We're about to have company."
Dropping what I was doing, I scrambled into the cockpit. "Where?" I asked, as she handed me the binoculars.
"Back where we came from," she said.
Looking behind us, I saw the white splashes on the northern horizon, even without the binoculars. We were about five miles offshore, and the coast of Puerto Rico made a nice, gray-green backdrop as I watched the speedboat.
"When did you spot them?" I asked.
"Maybe three minutes ago. I couldn't see them without the binoculars then. I watched them until I decided they were headed straight for us. They're coming fast, too."
"Yes. We may have two or three minutes," I said.
I put the binoculars in their holder and opened a small locker in the cockpit coaming. Taking out a folding combat knife, I handed it to her.
"What about for you?"
"I'll use the winch handle. You ready?"
She laughed. "I'm always ready."
"Good. Let's play dumb and see what they do."
"Okay," she said.
I sat down across the cockpit from her, facing aft so I could see the approaching boat. "It's an open boat with two men aboard. Maybe 25 or 30 feet. Two big outboards."
"Sure about that? The two men, I mean?" she asked.
"It's not big enough for anybody to be out of sight."
By then I could see the binoculars hanging from a strap around the passenger's neck. He leaned toward the man at the steering console and cupped his ear. The man who was steering nodded, and the boat slowed down. They were close enough so we could hear the engines, now. The boat swerved to the starboard and slowed down more.
"Looks like they're coming along the starboard side," I said.
Thirty seconds later, they were alongside, standing off a few yards and matching our speed. I waved, and the passenger waved back, grinning. He bent and opened a big ice chest and took out a fish, holding it up.
"Fresh!" he called. "You wanna buy? Good price."
"No thanks. Just caught a nice tuna."
He dropped the fish and pulled a pistol from his waistband as the boat edged closer to us.
"Heave to or I shoot the bitch," he said, firing a round into the cockpit coaming a foot or two from Mary.
I stood, facing them, and raised my hands as Mary turned our bow into the wind. Island Girl coasted to a stop in a couple of boat lengths. As the bow turned through the wind, the jib was backwinded, holding Island Girl steady as the swell rolled under us. The man at the wheel of the speed boat reached out and swung three fenders over the side as he brought the boat to a stop.
"Yo, bitch. Stan' up an' raise the hands, like the maricón doin'," the man with the pistol yelled.
Mary did as he ordered, and the driver picked up a boathook and pulled them alongside, the fenders screeching as the boats rolled together in the swell. He tied their boat alongside and climbed aboard Island Girl, brandishing his own handgun.
"Okay, bitch," the one in the boat said. "You comin' wit' us. We gon' have some fun. You been missin' a real man, wit' that faggot you hangin' wit'. Come now, or I blow his balls off, if he got any."
Mary climbed down into the speedboat, and the one who was on the side deck came back to the cockpit. Holding his pistol tipped on its side, like the idiots on TV do, he pointed it at me and said, "You gonna live, if you do what we say, maricón. Okay?"
"O-okay," I stammered. "Anything. Just don't hurt me."
He grinned and gripped his crotch. "Maybe jus' a little, right at firs', but then you like it, no?"
I did my best to tremble in fear and stammered meaningless syllables as he laughed.
"You jus' wait right there. You don' move, or my frien', he hurt the bitch while you watch. Okay?"
I nodded, shaking, and he put his pistol in his waistband and went below. "Where you got that computer, asshole?" he yelled.
"Lift the lid of the chart table," I said.
I was watching him through the companionway opening, so I didn't see what Mary did. When I sensed movement in the speedboat, I glanced over and saw her easing the inert form of the man to a sitting position. She took his pistol and pushed him sideways, pulling the folding knife from his right kidney. When she looked up and saw me watching, she smiled and blew me a kiss.
The one below deck mounted the companionway ladder, holding on with his right hand as he grasped the laptop in his left. I waited until he set the computer on the bridge deck, not wanting to chance damaging it. Then I swiveled to my right and kicked him square on the chin.
He flew down the companionway backward, landing in a heap. I was on top of him before he could draw his pistol, but I needn't have worried. Once I got the pistol and stood up, I saw the odd angle his head made with his shoulders.
I turned to go back to the cockpit and saw that Mary was back aboard Island Girl.
"Dead?" she asked, peering down at me.
"Yes."
"Damn it, Finn. Why'd you kill him?"
"It was an accident." I shrugged.
"I wanted to question him," she said. "I thought you'd know that."
I eyed the pistol in her hand uneasily. "I didn't mean to kill him. Not my fault he fell wrong."
She saw my eyes following the muzzle of the pistol and put it down on the cockpit seat. "Now what are we going to do?"
"They wouldn't have known anything anyway," I said. "These guys were pickup labor. Help me get him up on deck. We'll put him in their boat and lock the helm. Send 'em on a final boat ride toward Central America."
14
Once we sent our visitors on their way, I said, "I need to finish messing up the tracker, just in case somebody knew those two were trying to grab you."
"All right," Mary said. "But first, let's get underway again. Give me a hand with the sails?"
"Sure."
Mary took the tiller, and I cast off the sheet that held the jib back-winded. As the sail blew across the foredeck, I sheeted it in on the port side, and Island Girl accelerated on the starboard tack. Once we were going fast enough for Island Girl to answer the helm, Mary said, "Ready about."
"Ready," I said, holding the port jib sheet.
She pushed the tiller over, and I let the port jib sheet run free. Hauling in the starboard one put us back on the port tack, on our original course.
"Good?" I asked.
"Good. I've got us. Go ahead and finish what you were doing."
I took the laptop below and stowed it, picking up the GPS spoofer. Back on deck, I put on a harness and took the spoofer forward. The most likely hiding place for the tracker was in the life raft's valise, which was lashed to the coachroof in front of the mast. That was the area my scanner pointed to earlier.
Opening the hook and loop closures of the valise, I found the tracker and put the spoofing device right beside it. I pulled the flaps of the valise closed and pressed the hook and loop closures back together.
"Done?" Mary asked, as I joined her in the cockpit.
"Done."
"So you don't think those two were sent to attack us?"
"No, I don't. They were too inept. I think they were local talent. Someb
ody hired them to put the tracker on board and steal my computer. That's all."
She frowned. "I follow the part about the tracker, but why steal your computer?"
"Nora knows the files are on it."
"They wanted to take me, though. You don't think she sent them?"
"Not to snatch you, no. Nora wouldn't underestimate the two of us; she saw what happened in St. Thomas. If she meant to snatch you, she would have sent the first string into the game, not two bumbling idiots."
"But they knew about the computer, and they were going to take me with them."
"Yes, but I think those clowns were freelancing just now. Whoever Nora sent down here hired them to board the boat while it was unoccupied. Their job was to steal the computer and plant the tracker. They planted the tracker and couldn't find the computer.
"Their lookout probably saw me ashore with the computer when I was waiting for you. I think they were clueless about who we are. When they saw us leaving, they saw a chance to steal the computer like they were supposed to – and snatch a pretty girl in the bargain. Figured they might as well have a little fun messing with you. Bad boys will be jerks if they get a chance."
"Maybe so. I hope they enjoyed my company enough to make it worth their trouble. But I want to know how they found us to begin with. Or found you. Whichever."
"I've been thinking about that. Maybe I underestimated how desperate Nora is, or how widespread the corruption is."
"I don't understand, Finn."
"I didn't think she'd risk doing the paperwork for a warrant to track my iPhone. The agency would have never done that, back before everything turned to shit. It leaves a trail, and she might have to explain it. And you called me on the iPhone last night."
"But I was using a throwaway phone."
"I didn't mean your call tipped them off. Just that it reminded me I've left the iPhone turned on. Nobody has to call it for them to locate it if they have the proper paperwork."
Mary frowned. "So maybe a crooked judge signed the warrant, you think?"
"Could be. The risk isn't in asking for the warrant. It's in all the people outside their control who get involved in tracking the phone. All it takes is for one person working for a carrier to leak the information, and the secret organization isn't so secret."
"So that's why you think she's desperate? Because she took that risk?"
"Yes. Or there's some other avenue to get the location information, for the right people in the government. That's why I made the remark about the corruption being more widespread than I first thought."
"What about your iPhone, then? Shouldn't you ditch it?"
"I can set it up as a Wi-Fi-only device and remove the SIM."
"What good is it, then?"
"I can use it with the satellite hotspot for VOIP calls. With a VPN in the loop, it's untraceable, and the communications are heavily encrypted to boot."
"If you say so. Not to change the subject, but I'm starving. I'll fix us some dinner if you'll take the helm."
"Deal," I said.
She went below and started rummaging in the galley.
We didn't eat dinner until almost an hour later, but we both felt smug as we enjoyed the saltfish curry Mary cooked.
"Do you suppose they'll find out about those two morons that came after us?" she asked.
"I don't know. There are too many unknowns for me to even guess."
Mary thought about that for a moment. "Like where the person who hired them is based?"
"That would be part of it. That, and what assets they have at their disposal."
"Assets? You mean people and a boat, right?" she asked. "Those aren't hard to come up with."
"No. But even if they discover those guys are missing, I doubt they'll rush into chasing us without more planning. They've still got the tracker to lead them to us, as far as they know. And if it's my old employer, they don't like operating on U.S. soil.
"That's why they hired two local thugs to do their dirty work in Puerto Rico. They would prefer to hit us in open water, well outside the territorial limits. And they'll want privacy to interrogate us."
"So you don't think they'll come after us right away?" Mary asked.
"No. They want overwhelming odds of success. That means more coordination. They can't move fast enough to hit us out here without leaving too much to chance."
"They sound like bureaucrats."
"They are."
"How could you work for people like that? Didn't they drive you nuts?"
"I mostly ignored them. I was successful because I didn't play by their rules."
"They let you get away with that? Doing things your own way?"
"As long as they could deny knowing who I was. I was willing to take the risks; others weren't. That's why they kept sending me contract work after I retired."
"They don't have other… um, people like you?"
I shrugged. "I wouldn't know. But if they did, they wouldn't send them in so early in the game. They would wait until they thought we were in a box."
"You think we're safe for a while, then?"
"That's a dangerous assumption. Why do you ask?"
"You could redeem that raincheck, if you think we have a few minutes of privacy."
15
Mary and I lashed the tiller to hold Island Girl on course while we got reacquainted. Exhausted, we stretched out on the cockpit seat to catch our breath. After a few minutes, she rolled onto her side, lifting her head from my shoulder and looking at me while she ran a finger along my cheek.
"Can you think of any way besides your phone that they could have found us?" she asked.
"I've been wondering about that. I can't see Nora taking that risk. So I've been retracing my steps."
"Tell me," she said. "I'm curious about what you've been up to, anyway."
I nodded. "When I got back to the BVI from Miami, I cleared out and left for St. Martin that same night. They could have somebody in Her Majesty's Customs on their payroll, I guess. Or maybe they were following the tracker Frankie left on board. But that would only have gotten them as far as St. Martin."
"What did you put on your clearance form when you left there? St. Martin, I mean."
"Fajardo. And remember, I ditched the tracker in St. Martin."
She nodded. "And did you go there? To Fajardo?"
"No. I put it down to lay a false trail. I sailed to Culebra instead."
"How long were you in Culebra?"
"Long enough to clear in. Once I got the message that you were on your way, I left and sailed to Guánica."
"Hmm," she said. "So if they found you in Culebra, that means they discovered you didn't go to Fajardo. They must have found your inbound clearance to Culebra in the U.S. Customs database. How hard would that be?"
"Not too hard, if it was Nora's people. But Aaron would have known if someone did that, most likely. He didn't mention it, and he would have told me if he knew. That kind of work was what he did, so I'm sure he keeps an eye on that stuff now, even though they fired him. They may think they can hide things from him, but they can't. And anyway, by the time they found out I cleared in at Culebra instead of Fajardo, I would have been gone. There's no way they could have known where I was headed. Even if I sailed to another country, I wouldn't have needed any outbound clearance from there."
"They would have had to follow you to Bahia Guánica, then," she said. "Physically follow you. Not likely."
"No, it's not. And nobody but you knew I was going there. I didn't tell a soul."
"You think maybe they followed me?"
"I don't know. Do you?"
She frowned for a few seconds and shook her head. "I don't see how. Anything's possible, but I didn't make any airline or hotel reservations, even. I didn't want to leave a trail. I just showed up unannounced and took what I could get as far as flights and a room."
"That reminds me," I said. "Who are you these days?"
"Mary Louise Bannon. But I didn't use that identity until I bou
ght my ticket two hours before flight time. And I've never used it before."
We passed a minute or two in silence. Mary broke it with a question.
"Hey, Finn?"
"Yeah?"
"What are the chances somebody else planted the tracker?"
"Somebody else? Besides Nora, or whoever's taking over O'Hanlon's operation?"
"I'm just wondering," she said.
"I guess it's possible, but who? And why?" I asked. "You have any ideas?"
"No, but we should both let that idea rest for a little while. See if anything germinates."
"Okay. You still haven't told me your news."
"No. I'll make us coffee and you get the computer fired up. I've got stuff to show you." She went below and passed the laptop to me through the companionway.
"Do we need internet access?" I asked, thinking of the satellite hotspot.
"No. I've got stuff on a thumb drive."
In a few minutes, we were huddled in front of the laptop, sipping coffee. Mary opened a mind-map file that showed all the connections we knew about between all the players we could name. The only people on her mind-map who weren't part of the O'Hanlon mob were dead, except for Nora and the senator's mystery man.
"Any progress on the mystery man?" I asked.
"Not really. I've got feelers out. I picked up a few vibes, but no firm answers so far."
"I have to ask," I said. "Where is your pal Phorcys in all this?"
Mary sat bolt upright and gave me a harsh look. "Why are you asking?"
"The Florida connection. You said nothing happened there that he didn't — "
"He gave us the senator, Finn. What more do you want?"
"Have you asked him about the mystery man?"
Her eyes flashed. "No, and I'm not about to. It wouldn't be appropriate; he might take offense. Why are you bringing up Phorcys, anyway? And he's not my pal."
Vigilantes and Lovers Page 5