by Scott Cook
“Jesus…” Turner muttered.
“Your great granddad and his crew aboard the Bull Shark clapped a stopper over their capers, though,” I told him. “So the U-2626 goes down and is forgotten for seventy-five years.”
“Then in comes Audrey,” Lisa said softly.
“In comes Audrey Lambert,” I said. “A CIA agent who was either responsible for the break in at Yad Vashem, who set it up or who at least got wind of it. She also knows that a Missouri based company called EcoLife has designs on building their experimental city in Central America. At the same time, Antonio Bolivar also seems to know about EcoLife. He and his brother Manuel Garcia contrive to get somebody into the company. A kid named Ricardo Yashim, a Nicaraguan whose father is from the Middle East. I have to think that Audrey must have had knowledge of Bolivar… maybe working on the CIA’s own plans for him. She’s the linchpin in all of this. Because she makes contact with EcoLife and somehow gets Yashim a student visa to Webster University and also an internship with the company. Maybe she gun decked his paperwork, I don’t know… but what we do know was that Yashim was studying to become a biochemist.”
“Wait… wait…” Lisa said. “So Audrey puts a biochemist in EcoLife, a company that has connections in Central America. She knows about the Nazi germs… she knows about Bolivar and maybe Garcia… God, this is hurting my head…”
I chuckled, “Yeah, and Yashim was one of the four hitmen who came to Orlando… probably Yashim was there to get close to me or Jack Brody’s team, but that didn’t work out.”
“So how do you come into the picture?” Jackie asked.
I chuffed, “Let’s assume that Audrey and Bolivar and maybe Garcia, too, decide that they can do something really big in Central America. But the key is that U-boat. Somebody has to find those germs. Somehow she gets wind that Jack Brody is looking for the U.S.S. Dogfish, the fictitious submarine that was invented to cover up the real story… but either she knows or figures Brody knows the truth. So now it’s a race. She’s got to locate that boat before Brody does or the jig is up.”
“So she hires you?” Turner asked in confusion. “How would she even know to do that?”
I glanced at Lisa who flushed. Ray was simply sitting still and listening, his face giving away his complete bafflement.
“While working as a consultant with EcoLife,” I went on. “Audrey befriends their new MBA, herself working very closely with Miles and Andrea Palmer… soon to be divorced and I’m sure partly over the whole Green City thing. Anyway, Audrey and Lisa get real chummy like… and in her cups one night, perhaps, the young Ms. Gonzalez starts lamenting about the magnificent superhero she left in Orlando to pursue her career.”
Jackie chuckled and Lisa still looked flushed.
“Now, Audrey was either somewhat familiar with me or through Lisa, learned about who I am and what I do,” I said. “A private investigator in Florida who was also a seasoned waterman. Audrey thought that maybe I could birddog for her. She goes one better though, and uses her grandfather to get me interested… her granddad, who just happens to be the only surviver from the submarine battle. She gets as much info from Lisa as she can and decides to hatch a plan to use Hank to get to me and then to use me to locate the boat.”
“Which worked,” Grayson stated.
“Yes, it worked,” I said. “She even managed to seduce me… no small feat at the time, considering that I was still pining… probably figured that would engender more loyalty should things get sticky… which they did.”
“But she didn’t count on you learning the truth about Hank Lambert and that you’d make contact with Brody and his people and start to smell a rat,” Grayson said.
I nodded, “No. Audrey had some… issues. I don’t know what or why, but she was angry and there was something… rotten inside her. Maybe her conscience bothered her about Bolivar and Garcia, I don’t know… but she started to act odd and that bothered me. Then when I met Brody, I also met… met a marine biologist from Dubai named Imani Tariffa.”
“Ariel Mizrahi,” Turner said quietly.
I shot him a look. Did he know her too?
“Yes,” I went on. “A Mossad agent who wanted to find the boat because she knew that somebody had broken into Yad Vashem and learned the truth.”
“Madre de dios…” Ray muttered. “This is very complicated.”
I snorted, “Just wait… so to speed things up, it turns out Audrey was the bad guy. She had four hitmen in Orlando for a variety of reasons. I was being spied on. Her grandfather was attacked at his home by unknown assassins… at least at the time. She even hatched some crazy plan to kidnap my dog, replace him with a close look-alike and have that dog poisoned just to screw with my head and throw me off. All that was a put-on to point the finger at Brody. But some associates and I took out the four hitmen… the fourth, a member of Hamas Bin-Kazar was himself killed right in my office by a fifth assassin. Not long before, a cop friend of mine said that OPD got an anonymous tip from a woman about my attempt to capture the hitmen.”
“Wow…” Lisa said. “So you think Audrey was that woman? And you think she was the final assassin?”
I nodded, “Who else? Anyway, we find the boat and Audrey’s mask comes off. In the process, she and Ariel… they… were killed in an explosion, as most of you know. Terrible except for the fact that the location of the boat is at least still a secret…”
“But apparently not,” Grayson said tersely.
I sighed, “No. Audrey got off a satellite communication before we dove the Ariovistus. Ariel discovered it and left me the information in a short video. A video that the Colonel here got his hands on.”
“So Audrey contacted Bolivar or Garcia,” Ray said.
“I think so,” I replied and went over to the bar to pour myself a scotch. “I’d guess Bolivar. Garcia didn’t seem all that well-organized or technical. My guess is this: Bolivar, in addition to Miles Palmer, was funding and supporting Garcia. His long term goal was to get the Streptococcus to Garcia so that he could use it as a powerful lever against the Nicaraguan government. If Bolivar could put Garcia into the Nicaraguan palace or whatever, then he and his brother would have a strangle hold on Central American affairs and a clear distribution point for the drug trade.”
“But it didn’t end there,” Turner offered.
“Apparently not,” I said, “Because Andrea Wellesley and I brought Garcia by the lee. In my rescue of my friend, she informed the Nicaraguan government of where Garcia was and they came in. Yet Garcia escaped.”
“Then we find out that a private yacht owned by EcoLife snuck over to the submarine wreck site after the Coast Guard left the scene and before the Navy arrived and got their hands on the canisters,” Grayson said, his eyes sparkling.
“So it seems,” I said. “So now, Bolivar and his brother, who escaped, have their WMD. But things are a little complicated. Garcia’s toe hold in Nicaragua is probably lost, at least for now.”
“So there’s another plan in play,” Jackie offered.
“El Dorado?” Ray asked.
I began to pace again with my whiskey, “Yes. Imagine if Bolivar could get his hands on that land. He could literally form his own community or small country. Enough to grow and process cocaine with total impunity. And with his load of germs, he might be able to leverage Garcia into power in Nicaragua after all. With that land, Bolivar would have the capability to create unlimited wealth, the freedom to do what he chose and a major threat to the region in order to force an unobstructed distribution corridor all the way from Columbia to Nicaragua. Between the threat of the bioweapon and a huge source of money, he might literally rule the entire area.”
“Sweet Jesus…” Lisa breathed.
“But how does any of this involve you and Mr. Tavares here?” Turner asked.
“As for me, I’m descended from Catherine Cook,” I said. “How Bolivar would know that I have no idea… but maybe he or Garcia or Audrey found that out somehow. It’s not really a secre
t. Maybe Audrey dug deep when she looked me up, I don’t know.”
“So what about Ray then?” Lisa asked.
I shrugged, “Bolivar knows he’s got another brother. He knows about Ray. My guess is that Bolivar chose to use Ray’s organization to smuggle drugs specifically for that reason. He supplies the coke from his end and then Raul Montoya receives it. Nice and neat and nobody is the wiser. But there’s something else. A final missing keystone we don’t have. Why would Bolivar think Ray has the map?”
“Somehow his family is also involved in the El Dorado map and deed?” Amanda asked. She’d been silent all this time, doing a cursory examination of both Lisa and Jackie.
“Somehow that must be so,” I said, treating her to a grin. “And we’re assuming the man aboard here was looking for the map and the deed. Maybe there’s more? But either way, Bolivar wants that land in Columbia… and it looks like I’m going to just hand it over to him.”
“It doesn’t sound like you have much choice,” Amanda offered.
I gritted my teeth and then inhaled half my drink, “I guess not. But then that gives Bolivar and Garcia what they really want, doesn’t it?”
“Yes… but then we can run them to ground and take them out,” Grayson said. “This isn’t a defeat, Scott… this little stunt of Garcia’s is going to be what undoes them. It’s the rope with which they’ll hang themselves.”
“I hope you’re right, Colonel,” I said, taking my seat. “But I can’t shake the feeling that things aren’t going to go quite as we’d like. So now that the past year makes more sense… can you give me some people tomorrow?”
Grayson scowled, “I can’t. It’s bad enough you’re going, but that can be explained.”
“I’m going,” Lisa said matter-of-factly.
I chuckled, “I wish you wouldn’t… but I guess so long as the Chief here gives you a clean bill of health…”
“They’re both fine,” Amanda said. “No indication of trauma. A few bruises is all.”
Jackie scoffed, “Her? What about you, there, action hero? With your back all shot up and shit.”
“Whose side are you on?” I quipped.
“Yours… if you’ll have me,” Jackie said more seriously.
“I’d be honored,” I said.
“Negative,” Grayson stated. “Scott, I’m sorry… but I explained why already. When Bolivar learns that ICE is coming for him, I want it to be when it’s too late. If you go tomorrow and leave your credentials behind, even if you’re caught or something… you’re so new to the organization it won’t be an issue. And honestly, all you’re doing is boating over there, handing over some papers and then seeing the cargo ship out of harbor. The State Department has already lodged a protest with the Cuban government. There’s some red tape to cut, but by the time Garcia gets what he wants, Havana should clear the ship to depart. It all looks kosher on the surface.”
“For Christ’s sake, Colonel,” I protested. “That’s all fine and good for the official bullshit. But I don’t believe that Garcia isn’t going to be a problem. I’d prefer to have my ass covered, since it’s going to be hanging out… again.”
“I won’t object to anyone you choose outside of ICE,” Grayson said.
I scoffed, “I don’t give a damn if you do object. If I’m on my own, then I’m calling the shots.”
Turner’s eyes narrowed, “Jarvis, at some point, you’re going to have to accept that now that you’re with us, that there is a chain of command. You can be busted for that kind of insubordinate talk. You’d be wise to keep that in mind.”
I shot him a glare, “Fuck your chain of command, Turner. If you people are willing to let me take all the risks without any support, then at best you have no Goddamned say and at worst… I don’t need you.”
Turner shot to his feet and took a step toward me, “Somebody might need to teach you a lesson in discipline, Mister.”
I stood and faced him, “It sure as shit isn’t going to be you, Commander.”
“As you were!” Grayson snapped in a tone that surprised even me. He was usually so cool and collected. I guess he still had his Marine Corps grit after all. “That’s enough, the both of you. Scott, I understand your feelings. I promise that this is an isolated and special case. We’re not leaving you totally in the lurch. If something truly does happen, we’ll have your back. But for appearances sake, you’re going alone or with a few handpicked people, just as Garcia expects. From his standpoint, and even from agent Sloane’s, you’re still a lone wolf. It’s my personal belief that we need that impression to stand if we’re going to finally end this thing.”
I closed my eyes, swallowed and sighed, reigning in my indignation, “All right, Colonel. I suppose I can see your point. I need to make a phone call or two.”
I stood to walk into the dining compartment and went over to put a hand on Ray’s shoulder, “What’d they say when they called?”
He sighed, “Just that I should tell you to make sure everything went smoothly and that there were no tricks.”
“Did you speak with her?”
He shook his head, “No, they hung up after this message.”
“She’ll be all right,” I said. “I fully intend to give Garcia what he wants.”
Ray looked up and gripped my hand, “Gracias, amigo.”
“Oh, just one more thing,” I Columboed and turned to the others with a finger raised. “I really hate to botha ya’ with this, ma’am… but in your high-speed pursuit, I don’t suppose you got the license plate number of that sedan?”
Jackie grinned, “Of course I did. It’s being run down as we speak.”
I nodded, “Good… okay, on to the next cluster fudge…”
27
Upon due reflection, I concluded that Wayne and Sharon were my best options. I needed at least two good shooters and two people in whom I could trust implicitly. I wasn’t sure if they could get away, but I had to try.
If we were going to make our rendezvous by noon, then I figured we should leave Marathon by eight in the morning. That meant we’d either need to leave Miami by six or just go and stay aboard the sporty that night.
Wayne was unable to come. He couldn’t take any lost time and I felt a little bad for asking, because he was a bit distraught about not being able to make it. I told him it was okay, that we’ve had and would have plenty more adventures together.
Sharon, on the other hand, was able to take a few days off and so was Juan Fuente, a man whom I’d grown very close to over the past six months. They arrived by supper time and met us aboard the yacht.
I introduced Sharon and Juan to Jackie Stevvins and Amanda Wilson. Grayson and Turner had to leave not long after our meeting earlier, but left the two women to watch over things.
“So you guys all know this is total bullshit, right?” Sharon asked as we headed back up the gangway.
“What?” Jackie asked.
Sharon scoffed, “Oh, come on! Scott the cigar aficionado just happens to have to meet this Garcia guy in Havana? Please! It doesn’t take a world class investigator to see through that shit!”
Lisa giggled.
“I really do have to go to Havana, Sharon,” I said firmly.
“Pfft! Yeah, and the stripper really thinks that you’re special, honey,” Sharon jibed. “And the rent-a-vag you’re spending the night with is genuinely sincere when she says that of all her Johns, you’re the best!”
“You’re a twat,” I replied.
“What’s your point,” Sharon rejoined.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that Sharon has the vocabulary of a foul-mouthed truck stop waitress,” I explained to Amanda and Jackie.
“I like it,” Juan said with a wry grin.
“Yeah, but that’s only because she sleeps with you, Juan,” Lisa said. “You’re biased.”
Juan only shrugged and got a wicked gleam in his eye, “Well, I am just simple immigrant, senorita. My only yob is to make la senora happy, no?”
“Oh, good gr
ief…” I moaned.
“That’s right,” Sharon patted Juan on his backside. “He knows where his bread is buttered. And by bread, I mean his dick, and by buttered—“
“Okay, okay!” I exclaimed, holding up my hands. Amanda looked chagrinned, Lisa had a hand over her mouth and Jackie was doubled over laughing so hard she was having a hard time catching her breath. “For the love… why? Why?”
Amanda was chuckling, “Interesting friends you have, Scott.”
I scoffed, “Yeah… interesting. Can we get serious, now?”
Sharon smiled, “Do we have to? Fine… what’s the plan, skipper?”
I led them into the big saloon and indicated the coffee table. On it sat my AK-47 and my Colt 1911. Lisa pointed to her purse that was sitting on an end table and grinned.
“That’s a start,” Juan said, letting a large duffel slide from his shoulder to one of the sofas. He unzipped it and pulled out two large guns.
“I took the liberty of stopping by your place on the way down,” Sharon explained. “I brought your Winchester and your Mossberg. I brought a box of shells for each. A hundred rounds for the rifle and fifty for the twelve gauge. Plus Juan and I have our Sigs.”
“Jesus,” Jackie opined. “This is all your stuff, Scott?”
I shrugged, “Pretty much. I’ve also got a duplicate .45 in the filing cabinet of my office, a Beretta Tomcat .32 hideout gun and a big ass Colt anaconda .44 Magnum revolver I… appropriated… from a wanna be tough boy last fall.”
“We need to talk, Rosewood,” Sharon deadpanned.
“Is that all?” Jackie asked.
I cleared my throat, “Well… I may have… this is just a rumor, mind… gotten a line on a military-grade M4 A2. The one that still has the burst setting.”
Jackie grinned, “A man after my own heart.”
“Yup, that’s our Doctor Destructo, here,” Sharon said, patting me on the back.
I felt a flush in my face as a wave of pain radiated out from where her hand had landed. I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from gasping. By the looks on everyone but Juan and Sharon’s faces, they must be commiserating with the expression of pain on mine.