by Bryan Koepke
Reece felt the ear bud in his right ear pull out as he stepped off the ladder onto the tarmac, and suddenly the music he’d been listening to was less pronounced. With the preflight complete, it was time to get going. Reece walked around to the other side, but Haisley was nowhere to be found. Where’d he run off to now?
He silenced his music and walked toward the nose of the Aero Commander, wondering the other man had gone. Each hour that passed put Marie farther away, and Reece couldn’t stand not knowing where she was, and what she was enduring. He bit at his lip as he ran his hand down the leading edge of the wing, killing time.
“We just got lucky,” Haisley said, coming up behind him.
“Lucky how?”
“You remember that GPS tracking capability you figured out the assassin was using back in Colorado when he followed you guys to the cabin?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“I just got off the phone with Dixon. It turns out there’s an Interpol office in Anguilla. They got a hit on Alex James’ phone.”
“Did he get a location?” Reece said, feeling the first flame of hope since he’d witnessed Alex and the assassin kidnapping Marie.
“They were west of here last night,” Karl said. “It was one single hit. Almost like he realized the phone was on and killed it. They don’t have coordinates, but after we talked a bit he thinks they may be heading west, passing between Cuba and the Dominican Republic.”
“So, did they take a look at that area?” Reece said.
“Yeah, it was night and Dixon said they had been in a C-130 or something big like that. They might have been too high to see the boat. What’ll you say we go take a look?”
“That’s great news,” Reece said, glad he’d brought Haisley along.
“Yeah, what else is interesting is that Dixon’s people got a hit from Candice Carlyle’s phone. It lit up at the precisely the same time,” Haisley said.
“Did they get her?” Reece said excitedly.
“No, not yet, but Dixon said he thinks the black-haired woman you saw leaving your hotel room in Tarbert with those files and Candice are on the run together somewhere in southern Spain.”
Reece let his head drop, signaling his disappointment. He wasn’t certain, but he was hoping that when they caught Candice Carlyle, the authorities would be able to find out where Alex took Marie and what his plans were.
“Hey man, I got one more piece of news,” Haisley said.
“What’s that?”
“The Brilliant Blue,” Haisley said.
“What’s that?”
“The registered name of Ian Drae’s yacht. Dixon thinks there’s a good chance that’s the vessel we’re trying to locate. It left Miami last Thursday on its way south.”
“The Brilliant Blue,” Reece said as he headed to the cockpit, took a seat, and pulled out the electronic tablet he’d been using to navigate. Haisley followed him and took a seat in the passenger’s seat.
“That would put them here,” Reece said, pointing at the display of the map. “We’ve got full fuel and lots of daylight. You ready?”
“Yes, let me get the binoculars out of the back and we can hit the skies,” Haisley said.
*
A few hours into the flight, Reece looked over at his passenger.
“I got another boat up ahead,” Haisley said, looking out the corner of the windshield on the right side. “Looks good sized. Let’s see, we’ve found boats named Last End, Sophie’s Choice, and Mad Max. It’s about time we found Brilliant Blue.”
“I hope Marie’s okay,” Reece said, voicing his hope for the first time since they’d started the search the previous day.
“I do too,” Haisley said. “Have you given any thought to what we’ll do to stop them once we find them?”
“Some, but we have to find them first,” Reece said. They’d still be able to raise the police on ether the cellphone or their communications radios within the airplane when that time came.
“So you and Marie are really into one another,” Haisley said.
Reece dipped the nose of the plane and pulled back on the throttles as the airplane began to descend. He was fine bringing Haisley along to hunt for the Brilliant Blue, but he wasn’t about to get into some kind of exchange about his being in love with Rhodes’ ex-wife.
“When we find Marie, are you planning on taking her back to Colorado with you?” Haisley said.
Ignoring him, Reece arrested the airplane’s descent, pulling back on the control yoke. In the far distance he could see an island. He wished hard that they’d soon spot the boat that harbored Marie.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“What?” Reece said, a little too stern.
“I was wondering why you think they would have bothered to steal Marie. What’s in it for Alex James?” Haisley said.
“One thing is for sure, they wouldn’t have gone to the trouble to kidnap her if they wanted her dead,” Reece said.
“She’s some sort of bait. What I don’t understand is if Alex is paying for the assassin why he all of a sudden changed his plan. If he wanted you and Woodbine dead, they could have taken a shot while we were all on the yacht, out to dinner that night in Anguilla, or diving. There’ve been plenty of opportunities. This is different. It’s almost like Alex wants to get you alone and make a trade for Marie.”
“The only thing I’m trading with that jerkoff,” Reece growled, “is a hail of bullets.”
Chapter 75
Julian sat cross-legged on the front of the large boat. To the west the division point between the water and the sky was coming into focus as the sun behind him rose and painted the vast scene in yellow, orange, and purple color. He took a long breath, savoring the fresh air, and thought about his plan. They’d make landfall in Jamaica and load the ship with supplies before turning south. He’d need to get Alex to tell him where Mira had gone between now and then. With any luck he’d locate the other man’s stash of loot within the cabin, and once tied up at the docks he’d slip into the city with enough money to charter a flight out.
He got up from the plush white cushion and walked down the side of the boat in his bare feet. Up above, Alex was back at the helm and they were making good progress. Julian climbed down onto the deck and found his flip-flops where he’d earlier left them. It was time to fetch their captive. They’d traveled far enough and were in a stretch of open water now—far from any chance of discovery.
Julian guided the key into the lock opening the door to the forward cabin. The interior of the room was rank. It was a smell he’d place more in a man’s quarters than that of a woman. To his dismay, she sat in a wooden chair. Her hands were tied behind her back with cotton rope and each foot tied to one of the two front legs. Her mouth was covered with a thick patch of duct tape. That fucking animal, Julian thought, slamming his fist into his thigh. What is his deal?
Marie’s eyes were smeared with the remnants of her mascara, and her face was stained with twin trails where she’d been crying.
“Let me get you out of that damned chair,” he said. “Sometimes I wonder what’s wrong with Alex and his insistence at tying you up like some convict.”
Julian reached around and unsnapped the top of a leather pouch on his belt. He seized the handle of his knife and knelt down behind the chair. The sharp blade of the buck knife easily sliced the ropes, freeing her hands.
She was dazed. Her eyes were open, but she was silent. Her long hair hung down over her shoulders and looked greasy. Marie’s hands were still clasped together behind the chair like they had been when tied. He came around the chair and cut away the cords fastening each of her feet to the chair legs.
Reaching back around, he pushed the blade of the knife back into the sheath and snapped the top closed.
All of a sudden, the base of Marie’s foot collided with his left temple, rocking him. Like a cat reacting, he lurched forward, taking her in his arms, and propelled himself off the floor toward the bed. They came down in heap.
He had one hand on her neck and the other around her torso.
She whimpered. “You’re hurting me. Let go.”
“Nice try,” he said, rolling to the right and in doing so loosening his grip. He lay on top of her in the missionary position. Their faces were inches apart and his torso was in between her thighs. Julian could feel her breath on his face. Even though she’d been fighting for her life ever since they’d taken her, there was still perfume on her skin. He dropped his nose to her throat while still holding her arms and breathed in her scent.
“There are killers and there are lovers. A man is capable of being both, but not at once. I’ve spent years doing killing, and soon I’d like to learn to love once again,” Julian whispered. His voice was soft and he felt like he was more thinking this to himself than speaking his words to this woman.
“Is this when you rape me?” Marie yelled defiantly.
He lifted his face away. “I’m not the one you need to worry about doing that,” Julian said. “It’s that guy up there on in the captain’s chair that’s been wanting to take your clothes off ever since we left Anguilla.”
“He does, does he?” Marie said as she tried to break loose of his grip.
Julian took his hand off her wrist and bent down close to her ear. “I’m going to get up now. We’re out in the middle of the ocean, and there’s no place for you to run.”
He rose to his knees while still looking into her deep-set eyes. Her face, even in this state with matted hair and two days of sweat on her soft skin, reminded him of a model in a fashion magazine. The natural lines of her cheekbones ran high and her eyes were oval shaped with color that ran deep like the glistening color of a gem stone.
“There’s a shower in here. Take your time getting cleaned up,” he said, turning his back but still keeping an eye on her through the window’s reflection. She remained on the bed, lying where he’d put her. Julian reached for a handle on the top of three teak wood drawers. He dipped his hand inside and pulled out a pair of woman’s white lace panties, a bra, and a cotton towel. Turning back toward Marie, he set the clothes on the corner of the bed. Close to her, but not close enough that she could reach him if she decided on another kick.
He understood where she was mentally—more so than she could imagine. He’d spent years studying people, watching them, and waiting for the precise time to strike. It was normal for her to want to hurt him. He’d have done the same thing in similar circumstances. He liked this woman. Julian wasn’t sure why, but something deep down within his soul had connected to her. He liked a fighter.
He brought out a pair of blue shorts with a yellow polo shirt. “I hope these are the right size. They’re clean. I’ll be just outside in the galley.”
Chapter 76
“Spring Point intercom, this is Aero Commander Eight Four Lima Lima Charlie departing runway 31,” Reece said as he taxied the airplane out onto the runway. After eyeing the engine gauges to ensure everything was still in the green, he advanced the twin throttle levers. The high wing twin-engine airplane accelerated down the thin strip of asphalt toward the northwest, gaining speed.
The thin white pointers on each of the tachometers rose to twenty-five hundred RPMs, and Reece pulled back on the black control yoke commanding the elevator-control surface of the horizontal stabilizer upward, lowering the tail and bringing the nose of the airplane skyward.
They were soon airborne once again, zooming away from the earth below. Reece held pressure on the controls and glanced out the side window, watching the ocean fall away. The interior of the airplane was warm for this time of day, and he could smell a hint of burning oil from somewhere outside. It was a comforting smell to him rather than a warning of trouble. He’d learned from many years of flying that all reciprocating engines had a smell. Cowlings have traces of oil from past leaks, from maintenance, or from when the pilot checked his oil levels. As an air-cooled engine came up to operating temperature, it often gave off a hint of burning oil.
“Can you dial in the ATIS so we can get the winds again?” he said.
Haisley reached toward the complicated instrument panel and turned the tuning knob on one of the Collins radios. Their headsets filled with the sound of a man’s voice talking in what sounded like a Jamaican accent. “Spring Point Airport Information Echo. Winds two eight zero at one three, gusts two-two. Altimeter two zero one three. Landing traffic use runway three one. On initial contact advise you have information echo.”
Reece turned the control yoke to the right, rolling the airplane’s wings in that direction, and at the same time he pressed down on the right rudder pedal with his right foot, making a nice coordinated turn to the east. He continued his turn all the time climbing higher above the deep blue waters of the vast ocean below them.
“Do you remember what you said yesterday when we were about to land?” Haisley said into the microphone boom on his green headset.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Reece said, not remembering. He’d had nothing but Marie on his mind since they’d left Anguilla, and with each passing hour he wondered if he’d ever see her again. Although he was an experienced pilot, he had no idea where they might have taken her.
“You said you thought Alex wanted to get Karl alone and make a trade for Marie,” Haisley said, turning the knob of the GPS to widen the view of the display map on the instrument’s color monitor.
“I did?” Reece said.
“Yeah, you said you thought Alex kidnapped Marie thinking that it would be Karl that would come looking for her. It was his way of getting Rhodes alone so he could take him out.”
“Yeah, I guess I remember saying that,” Reece said.
“I’ve got another theory.”
“Yeah, what’s your theory?”
“The assassin has had his eyes on you ever since you first kept him from taking Karl Rhodes out back in London. That day he took you to lunch in his Jag.”
“I’m not following you,” Reece said as he flew the airplane, thinking about the last time he’d laid eyes on Marie Rhodes. She was swimming beside him in a bright yellow bikini. He envisioned her arms, her legs, and the way she looked in her bathing suit.
“You with me?” Haisley said. “You look kind of sweaty, Culver. You feeling all right?”
Reece wanted to say no, but instead he just smiled.
“You beat that assassin three separate times. First in London when he shot out the window on that Jaguar, when you were at Candice’s apartment in Denver and you got everyone out of there, and then finally at your cabin up in the mountains. Oh, and don’t forget how you told me the story about the time you shot out his front tire when you were on the ATV’s,” Haisley said.
“So you think the assassin kidnapped Marie to get to me? You think he’s using her for bait to lure me in and kill me?” Reece said.
*
The landing at Jacmel airport, on the southern coast of Haiti, had gone well despite strong crosswinds. They taxied to the south end and parked on a worn expanse of asphalt ramp. Both men climbed out of the Aero Commander and were met by the same hot and sticky air they’d grown accustomed to since arriving in the Caribbean. A gust of strong wind buffeted Reece’s door as he pushed it shut.
“I’m going to go see if I can find someone with a gas truck. Why don’t you check your messages and see if there’s anything of value?” Reece said, walking away from the plane toward a cluster of buildings. The area where they’d parked looked abandoned. He knew from his research on his phone that the airport had been used back in 2010 after the 7.0 earthquake hit the area.
On the downwind leg he’d overflown the large hangar and what looked like five green canvas military barracks. The hangar looked like something left over from the Second World War and reminded Reece of one of the big hangars he’d visited while in the Air Force. A good sized highway ran just off the south end of the runway. South of that there were homes that looked like they’d long since been abandoned.
He walked up to a door of the big gray hang
ar and tried it. The door was locked and looked like it had rusted shut years earlier. He raised his fist and pounded, hoping to raise a mechanic or anyone else with the keys to the fuel truck he’d walked past. The airplane they were flying was great for the work of covering miles of ocean, but the twin engines meant the fuel consumption was twice that of the planes Reece was used to flying back in Colorado.
After his unsuccessful attempt he walked around the hangar to what looked like a military camp earlier from the air. Reece scrolled through his cell phone looking for information on the airport, and in less than a minute learned that Canadian and American forces had used Aerodrome De Jacmel in support of the earthquake relief efforts back in January 2010.
That was good information, but it wasn’t going to help him find gas. After a few minutes he found Haisley sitting on an large orange shipping container with his cell phone to his ear. The two men made eye contact and his friend ended the call.
“You find anything new out about the investigation of the Woodbine III?” Reece said.
“No, I just was talking to Dixon. He’s back in London now,” Haisley said as he stood up.
“What do you mean, he’s back in London?”
“They’re closing in on Candice Carlyle and the other woman. I’d imagine Scotland Yard is using all of their assets to catch the people behind those drone attacks,” Haisley said.
“And he thinks Alex James is tied to those attacks?” Reece said.
“He didn’t say, but he seems pretty set on catching up with Candice Carlyle.”
“So, he’s given up on finding Marie?” Reece said.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“But if Dixon is returning to London, it certainly sounds that way. Good thing I know how to fly an airplane,” Reece said, slamming his fist into the side of the orange shipping container.
“It’s okay, Culver, we’ll find her.”
“Ok, we’ve got two options,” Reece said.
“Yeah, what are you thinking?”