Redemption in the Keys

by Matthew Rief

“When are you going to learn that you need me, Dodge?” she said.

  For a moment I’d forgotten where we were and what was happening, but that moment ended suddenly when I heard the sound of two Coast Guard patrol boats cruising towards us from the north. I asked Jack to retrieve the kayaks, and he motored a few hundred feet south of the trawler, picked them both up, and brought them back over to us. Without a word, Kyle slipped his sunglasses back on, climbed into his kayak, and grabbed the paddle. I reached into a small zipper pocket in my cargo shorts, grabbed my ring of just three keys, and handed them to Kyle. I didn’t know how long clearing up the incident was going to take, but I knew that it wouldn’t be timely. Nothing ever is when dealing with the government.

  “I’ll see you back at the marina,” I said.

  He nodded, then paddled as quickly as he could, heading south. In less than a minute, he’d disappeared from view around a few small islands covered in mangroves. The two forty-five-foot Coast Guard response boats thundered up and each performed a quick lap around the trawler before idling near the stern. The boats were both new and had deep-V double-chine hulls, giving them better balance and stability than previous models. Most of the boats’ surfaces were silver, but they each had a thick orange lip that stretched all the way around and had white letters that said U.S. Coast Guard.

  I spotted three guys on each boat. They were wearing full tactical attire, which included black Kevlar vests. Once they could see that the excitement was over, they quickly went about taking care of the scene. Sheriff Wilkes showed up on a police boat just a few minutes after the Coast Guard, and I was glad for it. Though I recognized a few of the Coast Guard guys, I knew that Charles had my back and would make it his priority to handle the situation as efficiently as possible.

  The Coast Guardsmen were ordered by higher-ups in the chain of command to bring the trawler to a private dock on Big Torch Key. A handful of CIA agents met us there and quickly took over. Drago was a high-value target, and I was sure that they’d want confirmation of his death, as well as whoever else happened to be on that trawler. The remains of Drago and his buddies were put in body bags and hauled into the back of a light cargo military truck.

  The agents handled everything smoothly, wanting to take the bodies and get rid of the trawler as quickly as possible. It felt good to have Scott, Wilson, and Charles all in my corner. Given the dead guys’ track records, I was barely even questioned by the CIA agents. In fact, they seemed genuinely happy with the situation, which was strange considering my only other interactions with government agents had painted them to be serious people who showed little or no emotion.

  “We’ve got it all taken care of from here,” a bald agent who looked about forty said. “The Agency thanks you for your continued service to the nation.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I said.

  I thought he was done, but as I turned to head back to the Calypso, he spoke again.

  “You’ll be contacted regarding payment once we’ve verified the body,” he said.

  I looked back at him, eyebrows raised.

  “Payment?” I said. “What payment?”

  The experienced agent gave a slight smile.

  “Drago here was on our most wanted list. He had a generous bounty on his head. I’d say you can expect to be contacted and paid within a few weeks.”

  I smiled at that. I’d worked for the government for eight years. If they told me to expect money in a few weeks, I knew it would really be more like a few months. But seeing as how I hadn’t expected anything in return, I was pleasantly surprised.

  Killing bad guys and getting paid good money for it? I felt like I was working as a mercenary all over again.

  I didn’t bother asking how much the bounty was. I simply thanked him, then waved and walked down the private dock towards the end where the Calypso was tied off. Jack was sitting in the shade up in the cockpit. He glanced over at me through big dark sunglasses and waved at me. His curly hair was a mess as usual, and he looked as though he was just going about a normal beach bum day. Not like someone who’d just aided in the killing of a criminal on the most wanted list.

  “Hey, bro,” he said. “Everything good with the feds?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. They’ve got it from here.”

  “Good,” he said, grinning down at me. “Cuz I’ve got a cooler full of Paradise Sunsets with our names all over it. Now that those disturbers of the peace are gone, I’d say it’s time you kicked back a little.”

  I smiled back at him. He was right. It had been a long and demanding forty-eight hours, both mentally and physically. But I knew that we weren’t exactly in the clear yet. Drago was dead, sure, but there was nothing stopping Carson from sending others. As long as Kyle was breathing and as long as I was by his side, the troubles would continue.

  Ange stood up beside Jack and moved barefoot down the staircase, stopping at the first step so that we were the same height. I pushed back a few loose strands of hair from her face, then kissed her forehead. She smiled.

  “I’m sorry, Ange,” I said, wrapping an arm around her. “You’re right, I should have told you about all this. What can I do to make it up to you?”

  She thought for a moment.

  “Well, for starters you can tell me everything that happened in Cay Sal,” she said. Then she looked down at her perfectly toned legs and added, “Then you can give me a massage. Half Dome did a number on my calves.”

  I grinned, then pressed my lips against hers. After a few seconds in heaven, I said, “Deal.”

  Ange never ceased to amaze me. I’d had my share of girlfriends in the past, but none of them had made me feel the way that Ange did. There was no drama with her. She wore her heart on her sleeve, but rarely let negative things linger. She was smart and great at understanding me. She knew the only reason I hadn’t told her was because I didn’t want to put her in danger. Admittedly, she would have flown back to Key West much earlier had she known what I was up to. I cared deeply about her and I knew she felt the same.

  But did she love me?

  I thought about the ring stowed in the back of my nightstand drawer on the Baia.

  Was she looking for marriage and all that a future with me would entail?

  I hoped so. With all my heart I hoped so. But analyzing and overthinking scenarios was a facet ingrained in my character. It was a part of me that had kept me alive many times over the years. I couldn’t help but think about every possible outcome in a given situation, even the worst-case scenarios.

  We climbed up to the pilothouse and plopped down on the port side, across from Jack. The cooler was resting at our feet, and before we’d said a word to my old friend, he had the lid open and was cracking open two cold ones. His bottle was in the cup holder beside him, the outer glass covered in a layer of condensation. He and Ange had also cut up some fresh mango and pineapple, which they offered me in a bowl.

  “And this is some of the last lobster of the season,” Jack said, handing me a plate of grilled lobster along with a small dish of melted butter, garlic, and salt.

  I had my fill as Jack brought us away from the private dock, then motored us into Niles Channel, heading south. Within a few minutes, we cruised under US-1 between Ramrod Key and Summerland Key, then entered the Atlantic. He had the forty-five-foot Sea Ray at her cruising speed of just over twenty knots as he banked us on a southwest heading towards Key West. With the nice breeze coming off the water, Jack decided to furl up the canvas, letting the warm sun bake our bodies as we finished off the food and downed my favorite brew.

  This is just what I needed, I thought as I lay against the cushion. Sun beating down on my face, fresh ocean air, delicious food, and great company.

  I wrapped an arm around Ange, then leaned back and closed my eyes, relishing the moment.

  “So,” Ange said, nudging my shoulder. “You were about to tell us what you’ve been up to these past few days, and who your friend is.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  I gave Jac
k and Ange a brief synopsis of what had happened, starting from when Kyle had shown up out of nowhere, back from the dead, and ending when George had helped us in Cay Sal. They both asked question after question, trying to figure out as much of the backstory as they could. I decided to tell them everything, and for the first time since I’d been on a witness stand in a military courtroom ten years earlier, I talked about Kyle and what had happened in Colombia.

  “Jeez, bro,” Jack said. “I thought I recognized him from someplace. He was all over the news.”

  Ange turned to me with raised eyebrows as I grabbed my beer and took a few swigs.

  “So, why did you trust him?” Ange asked. “I mean, since you didn’t turn him in. He’s a fugitive and deemed an enemy of the state, right?”

  I took in a deep breath and let it out. It was a good question. One I’d wrestled with myself when he’d first shown up.

  “I didn’t really at first,” I said. “But we’d been great friends in the SEALs, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it. But my opinion soon changed and now I know he’s telling the truth.”

  “How?” Ange said. “How did your opinion change so quickly and so drastically?”

  I told them about the Russian Devil and what he’d told me just before he’d tried to skewer me with his blade. I also told them how I’d seen him before, during the mission in Colombia years earlier. They listened intently as I spoke. I also explained to them both that if the accusations against Kyle had been true, they would have simply notified the government of his position rather than send hitmen to kill him and his family. It proved that their hands were dirty and that they were trying to cover something up by getting rid of Kyle for good. He was the one who’d managed to figure out what had really been going on in Colombia. It was still difficult for me to wrap my head around it; that so many high-ups in both the military and political arena would be tied into such a corrupt conspiracy. I vowed to help Kyle get to the bottom of it all, no matter how deep the rabbit hole went.

  I finished the rest of my story, and they both went silent for a few minutes.

  “What are you going to do now?” Ange asked.

  It was one of those questions that she already knew the answer to but wanted to hear me say it out loud. She knew me well.

  “This isn’t the end of it,” I said. “Drago, all of those hired guns. Carson won’t stop going after him until he’s dead. We need to take her down somehow. We need to prove what she was up to and what she’s probably been up to elsewhere for years.”

  Ange sneered and killed the rest of her beer.

  “Carson Richmond?” she said, though again she already knew the answer.

  Ange knew Carson only a little better than me. She’d met her a few times, and Carson had offered to hire her for a major job the last time they had spoken a few years earlier. Ange detested the woman, both professionally and personally, and had turned her down by telling the rich Southern belle to shove her proposition where the sun didn’t shine.

  “Are you going to kill her?” Ange asked, her face stern and resolute.

  I shook my head. “No. But we’re gonna find a way to bring her down.”

  Kyle and I had discussed it briefly, and the truth was, neither of us wanted Carson dead. That would be letting her off too easy. She was a person who lived and breathed for her reputation. Public relations was her game, so that was what we’d attack. Ideally, we’d tarnish her name and put her behind bars for a very long time. Poetic justice. And if she still managed to come after us once her life as she knew it was ruined, then we’d look into other options.

  “How do you plan to do that, bro?” Jack asked.

  I shrugged. “Not sure yet. We’ve been preoccupied with Drago, but now that he’s gone, we can go to work. She travels around a lot. We can try and track her down or hack into one of her computers. It’s going to be difficult no matter how we go about it. She’s rich, smart, and she’s been doing this for a very long time.”

  At around 1700, Jack brought the Calypso into slip forty-seven at the Conch Harbor Marina. I hopped onto the dock, tied her off and connected the shore power cable, then the three of us walked down the dock to where the Baia was moored. I spotted my Tacoma in the lot, and as we walked towards my boat, I saw Kyle sitting beside the dinette. Upon seeing us approach, he slid out onto the deck and turned to head down into the salon.

  “It’s okay, Kyle,” I said. “You can trust them.”

  He turned slowly and shot me a skeptical look. Even though Jack and Ange had just saved us, he was still in survival mode and didn’t seem to want to interact with anyone.

  Ange held out her hand to Kyle.

  “It’s good to meet you,” she said. He sauntered over, and they shook hands briefly. “I’m gonna help you boys take down Carson, whether you want me to or not.”

  I went and got Atticus from Gus at the marina office, then we loaded up my Tacoma with the kayaks and hauled them off to Mike’s Coastal Adventures on Lower Sugarloaf Key. When we got back to the Baia, the four of us migrated down into the salon, and I brought out my laptop. It was time for us to take a crash course on Carson Richmond. We performed various searches, called a few contacts, and shot off a few emails. Gradually, we formulated the basic structure of a plan, though we hadn’t decided on a location yet. It was clear that she spent most of her time split between Atlantic City and Miami. She owned casinos and fancy hotels in both cities, along with a fashion magazine and makeup line. It was difficult to think that the same woman who discussed her nails in flashy articles also owned a large stake in one of the largest private militaries in the world.

  After a few hours of work, my phone vibrated to life in my pocket. Sliding it out, I saw that Scott was calling, pressed the answer button, and held the speaker up to my ear.

  “Hey, thanks for calling back,” I said. I could hear him breathing softly on the other end. “Is this an okay time? I have a few questions you might be able to help me with.”

  “Can you step outside for a moment?” he said, his voice calm but stern. “I’d rather have this conversation face-to-face.”

  I glanced towards the stairs, then slid off the cushion and rose to my feet.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, ending the call and dropping my phone back into my pocket. When I reached the cockpit, I saw Scott standing on the dock beside the Baia’s stern. Scott was just an inch or so shorter than my six-foot-two. He had a strong jawline, short dark hair, and an athletic build despite the number of hours he’d spent behind a desk. Instead of his usual casual attire of jeans and a nice long-sleeved shirt, he was wearing his work clothes: a black suit with a red tie and an American flag pin on the left lapel.

  I hopped onto the dock beside him and patted him on the back.

  “Hey, Scotty,” I said. “What brings you down here?”

  Though he’d visited the Keys a few times since I’d moved there, he spent most of his time in D.C. and Orlando.

  He motioned toward the parking lot.

  “We need to talk, Logan,” he said.

  We walked side by side down the dock, up the perforated metal walkway, and into the parking lot. There was a blacked-out SUV parked in one of the visitor spaces, and we hopped inside, me in the passenger seat and Scott in the driver’s seat. After we both shut our doors, he took a quick look around. I’d fought alongside Scott for just over two years while in the Navy, and it was clear that something was bothering him.

  “What is it, Scott?” I said.

  “I should ask you the same thing,” he replied, his light brown eyes meeting mine. “I just figured I’d come down here and try to dissuade you from making a very big mistake.”

  I shook my head. “What do you mean?”

  He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Look, I’m impressed that you managed to take down Drago. It must have been difficult, even for you. But Carson is a different breed. She has connections you couldn’t begin to understand.” He paused a moment, then looke
d out the window, running something around in his mind. “What I don’t understand is how you managed to encounter Drago in the first place. The guy’s a ghost, and he only pops up on the grid when he’s sent to kill somebody. I mean, I know you’ve made your share of enemies since moving down here, but Black Venom is all but finished, and Salazar’s gang in Cuba has disbanded and most of those guys now hate his guts.”

  “He wasn’t sent for me,” I said, the words jumping out of my mouth before I’d even thought them over. Scott looked over, his eyes asking me for an explanation. “Alright, it’s a good thing you’re sitting down because this would knock you on your ass. I was trying to ensure you had plausible deniability, but it’s time you knew. Kyle Quinn is still alive.”

  His reaction was just as I’d expected. At first, he didn’t seem to believe it was possible. He stayed silent for what felt like ten minutes, his mind racing.

  “That can’t be true,” he said. “He was killed in the plane crash. They found his body.”

  “No, they didn’t,” I said. “They found the other bodies, but not Kyle’s. He’s alive, Scott. He’s on my boat right now.”

  He swallowed hard.

  “So, what, now you’re on some mission to help him? Do you have any idea what you’re really up against here?”

  “Yes,” I said. “And with or without your help, we’re gonna get to the bottom of this.”

  “What’s your plan to do that? Do you have any idea the kind of security Carson has? She practically has a small army protecting her at all times.”

  “We’re working on it,” I said.

  He nodded unconvincingly.

  “Well, your plan better be a good one. As your friend, I’d ask you to reconsider, but since I know you too well for that, I’ll say that if there’s any way I can help, give me a call.”

  “How much longer will you be in the Keys?”

  “Two days,” he said. “I need to meet with a few of the local mayors anyway.”

  “Thanks, Scott,” I said, then reached for the door. “I’ll be in touch.”