Besides, that option would involve wasting Thompson, his erstwhile partner. That didn't bother him, except that he would have to find and train a replacement if he wanted to stay in the treasure game. He was determined to succeed, whatever it took; he had a rocket launcher stashed in a false bottom under his forward water tank, just in case there was no other option. Phaedra was a rich enough prize to make it worth the nuisance of losing Thompson if necessary.
****
The woman was quite attractive, Dix Beauregard noticed as he studied the picture. He and Jones stood among the tourists on River Street, watching as a pair of harbor tugs escorted a container ship up the Savannah River toward the State Port. "Who is she?" he asked.
"We don't know yet. I thought maybe you'd recognize her. My agent thought it was not a chance meeting, at least on her part. She didn't think Yates recognized the woman, but she was pretty sure the woman knew who Yates was."
"Hmm," Beauregard said, thinking the woman in the picture looked vaguely familiar. She wasn't someone he knew or had even met. He'd never forget meeting a woman who looked like that, but he thought he might have seen her picture somewhere. "What made her think that?"
"She said it was woman's intuition; she warned me that there was no real basis for it, but it was a strong enough feeling that she thought she should pass it on."
"That's interesting," Beauregard said, "that she'd qualify it that way."
"She's a pro; I mean, all our operatives are, but she's special. She was a field agent for the Mossad; we hooked up with her after she infiltrated a bungled CIA operation in one of those places you always read about."
"Jesus. How can you trust people like that?"
"Oh, you can't, Mr. Smith. That's part of what makes this work so much fun. Everybody's in business for themselves. Once you understand that, it all falls into place." Seeing the worried look on Beauregard's face, 'Mr. Jones' said, "That's why you're paying me the exorbitant fee; relax, I'll keep it all straight for you."
"Can your gal find out who this woman is?"
"My gal? You mean the field agent we were just talking about?"
"Yes."
"If she knew you referred to her as my gal, you might wake up dead. She's nobody's gal. But anyway, no, she can't. She's not working this case anymore."
"Wow. You turn people over in a hurry. What did she have, a day down there?"
"Two days. That's the nature of my business, Mr. Smith. There was a chance she was spotted by the women who run that boat that Yates chartered, so we pulled her out."
"Shit. They know somebody's watching?"
"I wouldn't go that far. They may suspect that someone's snooping on them. They were asking questions at the hotel. You know anything about that boat? Or the women?"
"No. Yates found them through a charter broker down in Florida; I can find out who ... "
"Not necessary. We'll check them out; don't worry. We would have anyway. This just moved them a bit higher on our list. It's possible that we'll want to question them at some point, if we think they know where the wreck is located. Right now, we haven't been able to determine if Yates has a specific location."
"He said he did."
"And you trust him?"
"I'm his lawyer. My firm has represented his family for generations."
"I see. And clients never, ever lie to their lawyers, do they, Mr. Smith?"
"We've known each other all our lives."
"If you're so close, maybe you should just ask him where it is. You could save a lot of time and money."
"That's absurd; you're toying with me."
"Only to help you remember that we can't take anything for granted."
"Okay. You're right. Point taken. When will I hear from you again?"
The man called Jones shrugged. "I'll be in touch."
Chapter 10
"The woman in the office said they paid up last night. Told her they'd be leaving early this morning." Chen sat down next to Rigo, who had been waiting for him at the bar.
Both had seen the man at the nearby table. After a moment's study, they realized that he was looking through a series of photographs on his big, professional-looking camera. Satisfied that the man wasn't paying any attention to them, Rigo asked, "Did she say where they were going?"
"No. I asked her that. She said they didn't clear out with customs and immigration, so they're probably just headed for somewhere else in Antigua. Or maybe Barbuda."
"Barbuda?" Rigo frowned. "Where's that? How can they go there without clearing out?"
Chen grinned, shaking his head at his partner's ignorance, thinking that it was a good thing he was so pretty. "This country is Antigua and Barbuda. Antigua's one island; Barbuda's the other. It's around 25 miles north of Antigua, but still the same country."
"Shit," Rigo grumbled. "How we gonna find 'em?"
"We'll check that place he rented in Jolly Harbour. Yates told Marc he was gonna be hangin' out there most of the time when he wasn't on the boat."
"Marc say why he wanted us to push Yates again? It hasn't been a week yet."
Chen shook his head. "You know Marc Jackson. He doesn't like being predictable. Besides, I never heard of anybody owing Marc this kinda money before. He's probably scared Yates is going to skip out on him."
"But he still don't want us to break no fingers or nothin'? The man's gettin' soft."
"Nah, I don't think so. Messing up that boat a little bit, that'll scare the shit out of Yates — make him think we've gone crazy on him. We'll make him watch while we hurt one of the women; give the son of a bitch something to worry about."
"What makes Marc think he'll give a damn about the broads? I don't get it."
"It's like psychology, Rigo. Yates's got no cojones; if we carve up one of the women and make him watch, leave him with the mess to clean up, he'll be scared shitless. What's the matter? You never messed up a woman before?"
"I don't like women; can't trust the bitches. They always crying' an' screamin' an' shit. Can't never tell what they gonna do, man."
"You just keep Yates and that muscle-bound hunk he's got with him out of the way, then. I like to hurt women. They're soft — scare easy. You watch how I do it. Maybe you'll decide you like it."
"I tried women before, Chen. You can catch all kinds of stuff from them. I don't ... "
"We're not talking about sex, you big, beautiful dumbass. We're talking about pain. They're easy to hurt. You just watch, this time."
Rigo glanced over his shoulder in time to see the man with the camera walking away in the distance. "Scrawny little bastard," he remarked. "Damn camera's bigger than him."
****
Dix Beauregard leaned on the railing along the top of the bluff, gazing out across the Wilmington River toward the yacht club. He was surprised that Jones had already requested another meeting; he wondered what the man could have learned so quickly. He was getting tired of the cloak-and-dagger games that Jones insisted on playing, too. The man wouldn't talk over the phone beyond using cryptic language to set up meetings.
All this face-to-face stuff was getting old; no wonder these guys were so expensive. He reminded himself that their fees were a pittance compared to what was at stake. He figured to clear $50 million out of this deal. Jones's fees were chump change, even with the percentage-based bonus. Wondering where Jones could be, he turned around and almost jumped over the railing when he found the man standing quietly about a foot behind him.
Jones smiled at his discomfort. "Sorry I'm late. You look like something's on your mind, Mr. Smith."
"Why can't you call me by my name?" Beauregard blustered, annoyed at his own discomfort. "You know who I am."
Jones shook his head. "Bad tradecraft."
"You act like some kind of God-damned spy."
Jones smiled patiently, waiting.
"Is Jones your real name?"
"I have many names. You say, 'Jones,' and I answer. What more do you need?"
"You know my real name; I shoul
d know yours."
"You don't need to; we're wasting time."
"You said something had come up."
"Yes. There are some new players in the game, Mr. Smith."
"Who?"
"We're still checking, but does the name Marc Jackson mean anything to you?"
"I've heard of a bookie by that name."
"Any idea why he'd be interested in Yates?"
"Gerald's a player."
"Any chance he owes Jackson money?"
"I guess it's possible. Why?"
"Two thugs were overheard in Antigua, talking about collecting a large debt for Jackson."
"From Yates?"
Jones nodded. "None other."
"I'm surprised. Gerald's got money; I can't imagine he'd be in hock to somebody like Jackson."
"We wondered; we thought maybe Jackson was after the gold. Yates's gambling debts are his own business, but my associates and I have a vested interest in the gold. We agreed to share with you — nobody else. Correct?"
"That's right. You don't think I ... "
"Remember, Mr. Smith. In my business, we trust no one."
"But I'm your client."
"Exactly. And you of all people know how trustworthy clients are."
"I resent that, Jones, or whoever the hell you are. I'm ... "
"Easy, Mr. Smith. In this business, emotions are a hazard to your health. Don't take things personally."
Beauregard took a deep breath. "You got anything else?"
Jones gave him a tight smile. "I'll be in touch."
****
"There should be dock space at the villa by now," Gerald offered, as Dani negotiated the Jolly Harbour entrance channel. "The former tenants were supposed to move their boat yesterday. Why don't you use it?"
"If it's all the same to you, we'd rather be out on a mooring," Dani said. "There's more breeze."
"There's shore power at the dock. You could run your air-conditioning."
"We don't like air-conditioning. Liz and I both prefer to have the boat open if there's air moving. But you're the boss. If you say ... "
"No, no. I just thought you might like it. By all means, stay on the mooring if that's your choice."
"Thanks. Tell you what, though. We'll just drop you and Nick at the villa and come back out; saves us taking the dinghy in. We can pick you up there in the morning, once we know where it is."
"That's fine," Gerald agreed. He gave Dani turn-by-turn directions to the dock outside the rented villa. Once they had it in sight, he went below to help Nick pack up, leaving Liz and Dani to take the boat in.
As Liz rigged the fenders and dock lines, she noticed the two men on the dock that ran along the bank in front of the villas. They were sipping drinks, sitting in lounge chairs as they watched Vengeance approach.
Dani disengaged the transmission about 100 feet from the dock, allowing Vengeance to coast to a stop. She came to rest about 10 feet off the face of the dock, lying parallel to it. As Dani had calculated, the wind caused them to drift slowly sideways toward the dock. Liz was ready to tie Vengeance to the dock; she stood amidships, bow and stern lines in hand, gauging the distance.
As she started to step ashore, the two men who had been lounging on the dock rushed her, leaping the two-foot gap and landing on the side deck. The smaller, Asian one shoved her violently as he hooked a foot behind her ankle. She went down hard, stunned. The other one had a ponytail, she noticed. She saw him point a silenced pistol at Dani from about 10 feet away as the small man held a knife to her own throat.
"Take her back out, or your friend gets cut," the one with the ponytail ordered.
Dani nodded and shifted into reverse, applying power. Like most full-keeled boats, Vengeance wouldn't back in a straight line. As she gathered way astern, the transom swung to the port side. Watching the man with the pistol, Dani said, "I can't back her out of this alley. I'm going to have to turn her around, and then I'll drive her out."
The man with the ponytail nodded. "Any tricks and I'll pop you in the kneecap."
"No tricks," Dani agreed. "Where do you want to go?"
"Out of the harbor. We goin' for a little ride. We gonna need some privacy. Jus' go 'til I tell you, an' nobody get hurt."
"We don't have any money or valuables," Dani said. "It's not too late to change your mind. I can put you ashore and we'll forget about this."
He grinned at her and shifted the pistol a little to his right. The boat rolled, disturbing his aim as he squeezed the trigger. There was a muffled pop and splinters flew from the teak deck a few inches from Dani's left knee.
"That wasn't necessary," she said through clenched teeth. She shifted into forward as she swung the helm and opened the throttle briefly.
The man watched with caution as she continued to shift from forward to reverse, playing the throttle, turning the big vessel in her own length. As she straightened out and headed for the harbor entrance, Yates clambered out of the companionway.
"What're you doing?" he asked, frowning at Dani.
"Hello, Gerald," said the man with the ponytail. "Mr. Jackson, he say to tell you he still remember."
Dani watched as Gerald's face blanched. He turned slowly to face the man. "It hasn't even been a week," he protested, his voice cracking.
"Lie down on your belly. Hands on your head. Legs straight, feet together."
Yates complied, trembling visibly. The man knelt beside him and deftly bound his wrists and ankles with oversized cable ties.
"Call your boyfriend up here."
"Nick!" Yates called in a squeaky voice.
Thompson charged into the cockpit like a bull, having heard what was going on. The man with the ponytail moved with a casual air, smashing the pistol into Thompson's left temple. Thompson collapsed at his feet and was soon tied hand and foot.
"Bring her back here," he ordered the Asian man, "but don't hurt her yet. Not 'til we out in the ocean."
The small man folded his knife closed and slipped it in his pocket. He moved so quickly that Liz didn't know what happened. She felt a light touch on the back of her neck, and her arms went numb. She was lifted to a standing position, and he frog-marched her back to the cockpit.
"I'm sorry, ladies. I have been rude; I am Rigo, and my Chinese friend, he is called Chen. What should we call you?"
"I'm Dani Berger, and she's Liz Chirac. It's too late for you to walk away clean, but if you'd like to reconsider, you might still get out of this alive."
Rigo doubled over with laughter. "You ver' funny, Ms. Berger. I like that. We was gonna hurt your friend, but since you so funny, maybe we let her go. What you think?"
"You're sounding smarter by the minute, Rigo."
"Yes. I think we will let Liz Chirac watch with Gerald and his friend while we hurt you some instead. But firs' you take us out a few miles. We would not wish to be disturbed."
Chapter 11
The man called Jones was speaking to his lead field agent, the nondescript man with the camera. They were on an encrypted connection, so they spoke freely.
"What's so important that you bypassed Stevens?" Jones asked, referring to the desk man, some irritation in his brusque tone.
"I need to talk to you about him another time. He's dangerous; I'm not going to deal with him anymore. Get used to it, or I'm out of here."
"Another time, then." Jones couldn't afford to lose this man; he was far too valuable, and he knew it. He resolved to find out what Stevens was up to; he would review the recordings later.
"I called because those two strays have made a move."
"Rodriguez and Lee, you mean?"
"Yes."
"I have some information for you on Jackson, by the way. But first, what have they done?"
"We followed the two of them to Jolly Harbour. They camped out on the dock outside the villa and waited. We thought they were going to work Yates over or something, but we got a surprise."
"How so?"
"The boat — Vengeance, that is — show
ed up about an hour after they got there."
"Showed up at the villa?" Jones asked.
"Right. They were ... "
"Wait a minute. I thought the women kept Vengeance out on a mooring."
"That's right. There had been another boat — looked vacant, unused — at the dock outside the villa. But it left yesterday, and today they were bringing Vengeance into the dock, apparently. Just before they tied the boat up, Rodriguez and Chen jumped aboard and ... "
"Damn!" Jones interrupted. "Do you think they're working together?"
"I don't think so, but I suppose it's possible. One of the women was about to step ashore with the dock lines when they jumped aboard. Chen knocked her down, and Rodriguez held a gun on the other one. She turned the boat around and took it back out."
"So it looks like a hijacking, then. What the hell could that mean?"
"I don't know. We chased around trying to find a way to follow them, but we couldn't come up with anything that wouldn't have been dead obvious."
"How long ago?"
"About an hour." After a long silence, the nondescript man said, "You mentioned that you had something for me on Jackson."
"Right. It may be unimportant at this point, but he's a bookie and a loan shark."
"So Yates probably owes him money, then," the nondescript man said.
"Well, that's one explanation, but why would they hijack the boat? Seems to me they'd want to get Yates alone and work him over, most likely."
"Good question," the non-descript man said. "You think there's any chance Yates and company already retrieved the gold?" Jones asked.
"I have no basis to make a judgment on that, but if they had, how would those two thugs know about it?"
"Yates could have told them. Or told somebody. How about his lady friend?" Jones asked.
"The one he ate lunch with? He's been spending a lot of time with her — dinner every night, then up to her suite for an hour or two. Or I suppose Thompson could have passed the word somehow ... "
"Find that damned boat," Jones interrupted. And that woman, Muir, was it?"
"That's right."
"Get somebody to toss her room if you can," Jones ordered.
Bluewater Bullion: The Seventh Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 7) Page 6