Burn Notice: A Key West Thriller (Kelly Maclean Book 2)

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Burn Notice: A Key West Thriller (Kelly Maclean Book 2) Page 7

by Nate Hawk


  Rick Quinn waited in the car as his team of agents walked down the dock towards Kelly’s boat. The bikers had mentioned that Kelly and his car seemed to have disappeared and true to their word, there had been no white Magnum. The blinds on the boat had been left closed but it was clear upon a cursory glance that nobody was inside. The team had a contingency plan for this so they got to work with their plan to kill Owen, Kelly and Megan.

  ***

  The conversation in the hotel room was ramping up to a fevered pitch. Kelly finally understood that the painting wasn’t some child’s sketch; it was an extremely valuable piece of Renaissance history shrouded in a decades old Nazi mystery. Quinn was the type that packed his own lunch and made sure all of his paperclips were accounted for. Owen knew there was no way that Rick Quinn had dropped nine digits on the stolen painting just to hang it in his office in Berlin. This understanding left two plausible explanations. One: it was a fake. Initially, this option seemed to be the most realistic. People without the means had been purchasing replica artwork since the beginning of time. But the Devil was in the details and that led Owen to option two. Two: Rick had likely obtained it illegally. If it was the real McCoy then where had it been for the last seventy years? How exactly had Rick gotten his hands on it? Moreover, when Owen had started asking questions he was suddenly blacklisted and a kill team had been dispatched for him. Was the timing there a coincidence? Owen didn’t think so. Then earlier at the import garage he had seen Rick Quinn with the kill team so that eliminated any reasonable doubt. That also told Owen that Quinn believed the painting was authentic. Since Owen had seen the quality of the painting he was inclined to believe it was real as well. If not, it could have been a previously undocumented prototype of sorts brushed by Raphael himself. If it wasn’t the authentic Portrait of a Young Man then it was a centuries old painting that was valuable in its own right.

  Kelly said, “Ok. So you have a burn notice and a kill team on your ass because you figured out your boss has a painting that is both extremely valuable and whose whereabouts have been unknown since the Nazis stole it from Poland.”

  “Essentially, yes.”

  “This Quinn guy can’t afford the painting and we think the only likely scenario is that he obtained it illegally. You were right in coming down here. Let’s go back to Southern Florida Import and Export. We’ll stake it out and once the place clears out we’ll break in and see who shipped it to them.”

  “Sounds like the Watergate scandal to me,” Megan said with a laugh.

  “Yeah, but if we get caught during the break-in there won’t be any presidential pardon waiting for us.”

  ***

  Chapter 10

  The trips north to Miami were usually made during the evening hours for several reasons. It was better riding weather for the bikers and with all the extra meat they were carrying around, this was a significant consideration. Traffic moving north up US1 at this time was thin. This fact translated to less of a chance of being involved in either an automobile accident or a traffic stop. After all, running into Officer Collin Allcars would bring down the entire distribution ring and the profits were proving to be much too high to allow that to happen.

  Kelly and Megan had commandeered the front seat of the electric vehicle and Owen had squeezed into the back seat. He’d protested slightly and made some profane reference to his ancestors riding in the back of the bus before providing a I’m-just-mess’n-with-you look. Kelly spoke up as he added a new layer to his plan.

  “We gotta go back by Walgreens again,” he said.

  Megan looked at him and added sardonically, “Planning on stopping for a case of beer?”

  Owen sarcastically asked Kelly if it was time for hair gel and facial moisturizer now that he’d given himself a makeover. Kelly enjoyed the razzing since he knew he deserved it with his poor hygiene performance. Kelly just provided a cunning smile and decided that he wasn’t quite ready to give away all of the details of his plan. Perhaps a small amount of thought evoking enthusiasm might lift their spirits some.

  “I’ve gotta pick up a battery-powered radio. We can use it to eliminate a few of the iron-pumping village idiots but it’s not going to solve all of our problems. We’ll still have the CIA to deal with.”

  So Kelly drove south on Bahama Street and parked near the curb at Southard Street. From there he walked west one block until he intersected Duval Street where he slipped into a crowd of tourists for concealment as he walked north to Walgreens, where he located a battery powered radio. Then he grabbed a small box of Ziploc bags for water proofing, a small reel of fishing line, a cheap pair of binoculars, two throwaway phones, several one-liter bottles of water and a handful of protein enhanced Powerbars. Before paying, he turned around and went back for three sun hats and three sets of sunglasses; all of which he hoped would make the three of them look more like tourists than hunted people.

  Kelly walked casually back to the glorified golf cart with four plastic bags full of provisions.

  “Goddamn Kelly,” Owen blurted out. “Did you rob the place?”

  “No but it took four bags to pack all the beer that I bought for our stake out,” he quipped. “I even splurged and purchased a new phone!”

  Megan gave her first authentic smile since she’d been in Key West. Kelly set the bags in the back seat with Owen, knowing the day was getting shorter and they needed to have something to show for all of their efforts. He pressed the pedal that got the batteries’ electrons moving through the electrical circuit that in turn got the small set of chrome wheels spinning. The vehicle whined to life and they made a turn east onto Southard. They followed a similar path as before and found the same bush where they promptly parked and waited.

  In the short time that they’d been gone a few things had changed at Southern Florida Import and Export. One of their large box trucks had been moved to a loading dock and it was currently being loaded with anonymous looking crates with no markings. Franco, Lou’s brother and business partner was a sight as Kelly eyed him through the binoculars. The enormous man had given up one of his crutches and only used the remaining one on the side of his broken leg. He looked to Kelly to be more in the way than anything and although it was hard to make out the conversation, Lou seemed to be bitching about the same point. The truck was eventually loaded and its metallic rolling door rattled and crashed closed. Although it was difficult to see, Kelly was sure that this Lou Deluca had secured some type of lock on the door.

  Then the building was locked up and otherwise secured. The bay doors were slammed shut and it appeared that Deluca had gone back in for one last thing. Kelly was disappointed because he was pretty sure he knew what Deluca was up to. Kelly used the binoculars to search the landscape beds. He was looking for something specific and then he found it. There was an ADT Security sign. Deluca jumped in the driver’s seat of the box truck.

  Kelly said, “Looks like they’ve got a security system. I’m guessing that is why he ran back in so he could set the alarm. That’s bound to make entry a bit more difficult but I’m sure that we can find away around it.”

  “I’m sure little ol’ me could find a way in there,” Megan said. “I bet I could talk my way right in the front the door and walk right back out with the information that we need.”

  “Yes, I bet you could,” Owen admitted with a flirtatious smile. “Now listen. We know they’re getting ready to leave and we are confident that this is that shipment to Miami that we overheard, right? I mean that head guy Deluca looks to be driving the shipment himself and his brother Franco just hobbled into the cab on the passenger side. So this shipment is a big deal.”

  The engine of the box truck firing up interrupted Owen’s thoughts. As the three onlookers stared at the parking lot of the import company a strange thing happened. Four bikers lined up in formation behind the box truck as if they were going to Miami too. Why would four sport bikers drive all the way up to Miami with the shipment? Kelly and his friends figured that the insanely stout
guys were only for loading and guarding the goods. If that were true then why didn’t they load up in the box truck for the ride up north? Just then the truck and the four bikers continued through the security gate. Lou jumped out one more time and punched a number on the keypad to close the gate. Then Kelly and his friends watched as the box truck headed towards North Roosevelt Blvd and on to the overseas highway that would take them north to their destination in Miami.

  After the noise of the motorcycles died down and the group of watchers decided there was nobody in the building they began to talk amongst themselves.

  Kelly said, “I’m sure those guys are going to be gone for awhile. What, eight hours road time plus unloading time? It’s about six pm right now so they won’t be back until sometime tomorrow morning. I’m sure the CIA team has infiltrated my boat and I don’t care to think what is waiting for us back there. I’ve only got a .41 magnum with six shots and one additional speed loader on me. Twelve cartridges total. Whadda you guys got?”

  “Remember I’m a nurse,” Megan said. “But… Since we were on the run I took the sub compact 9mm Glock that my husband bought me before he passed. You know I’m not a shooter but since we were on the run I brought the bullets that were sitting next to it in the closet.”

  “I lost mine in the gunfight when Angelo died,” Owen resigned. “I couldn’t get back to my apartment afterwards. All I have are my fists.”

  “I propose that we do this. Owen take my .41 S&W. It’s only 12 shots but that’s better than what you’ve got going otherwise. Megan, if it’s alright I’ll take the 9mm. It is going to be incredibly small in my hand but I think I can make it work. Everyone agree to the terms?”

  Kelly got answers in the affirmative from both without any real reluctance from his friends. But all three of them were intelligent people and they’d have to use the full combination of their brainpower to get themselves back in charge of their safety. Owen had been working on an angle for a few minutes and he felt ready to present it.

  “Look Kelly, I’ve got a real good idea of what your plan is to get rid of the trouble with the bikers and I’m cool with that. That’s your project and you know I’ll help in any way I can. Now I believe that this import business here in front of us is the key to getting all of what happened with the painting figured out. I have to know who sent it to Rick Quinn and why. I think if I get that information then I can get him to back off in a mutual understanding. So here’s what we’re going to. I am going to stay here tonight and keep an eye on this place. I’m going to poke around and if I feel like I can get in the building safely then I will penetrate their security and get the information that I need. If that looks to be too ambitious, then I am going to wait and we will move forward together.”

  Kelly said, “You know we’re not leaving here without you.”

  “Yes you are! Three people and this glorified golf cart is not exactly a covert operation. Anybody sees us in the dark and we’re gonna have some explaining to do. So leave me the water and the handful of Powerbars and I am going to crawl off into the jungle here. You guys go get a real dinner and take this golf cart back to the hotel. All Megan talked about on the ride down here was seeing you again and quite frankly Kelly, after seeing what condition you were in when we arrived, you’re very lucky to have someone so beautiful and special that is so dedicated to you.”

  Kelly had several emotions running through him. His first thought went to the memory of his bride being killed before his eyes. He had tried hard to put that past him but the thought was always impossible to shake. On the other hand, he found himself filled with feelings of hope and pleasure and healing at the thought of being with Megan. He knew that he was fortunate to have her close to his heart, regardless of what had happened to his past love. But did he have the type of qualities that Megan deserved in a man? Most importantly, could Kelly keep her safe in a world that seemed only to take from him everything that he valued and loved? He also knew selfish emotions were affecting his thoughts of loyalty towards Owen, who Kelly sure didn’t want to leave in an overgrown jungle lot for the night.

  “Kelly! Stop thinking about it. It’s done. I’m going to disappear now so I can do some recon. Take this wonderful lady to dinner and enjoy your night.”

  Just like that the huge black man slithered into the jungle.

  ***

  Chapter 11

  Kelly and Megan sure didn’t like leaving Owen for a night in the tropical bush, fending for himself with killers seemingly lurking around every corner. But they knew he was tough. They felt some comfort in the fact that Owen had been an elite member of Delta Force. Surely he could survive a night of recon, laying in the sand and looking at the stars. Besides, maybe he could even catch several hours of sleep before the brothers returned with the sport bikers. As an added bonus, both Kelly and Megan liked the sound of an evening together. The biker threat had subsided, albeit temporarily, and the CIA surely didn’t care too much about the two of them. Had Owen been present they would have been in much more danger but he was hiding out so Megan and Kelly were free to explore the island on their own.

  Megan insisted on driving as she climbed behind the steering wheel and sent energy to the electric motor via the foot pedal. Kelly pretended to hang on for dear life as the vehicle rolled along at a comfortable twenty miles an hour.

  “We better start thinking about charging this thing or its going to go dead on us,” Megan suggested.

  “Good point. For what we’re paying at the B&B maybe they’ll throw in access to an extension cord. Let’s drop it off there and we can walk over to Duval or something for dinner.”

  Megan had been paying attention and she knew where the B&B was. The drive took her a few minutes in the island traffic before she pulled in behind the B&B. The wooden house had stood for over a century and had been painted many times and many colors. Currently it was a light purple. The shutters had a coat of darker purple and most of the trim was white. It was two stories tall with the advertised turret placed up top that was a room in itself. Out front was a wrought iron fence with years of light purple paint layered nicely on it. The tropical landscape out front added some luscious greenery.

  “Good choice, Kelly. It was a good idea,” Megan said as both of them climbed out of the parked Gem electric vehicle.

  Kelly ran inside and talked to the pretentious woman behind the desk who apparently owned and ran the business. Earlier, when Kelly had made the arrangements to stay there for a few nights she had skeptically asked a few questions. She had made it clear there were to be no kids in her place. Then she gave them all a judgmental look as Kelly and the redhead climbed up the stairs with a huge black man in tow as they had taken a few belongings inside. Fortunately this time the extension cord had been no problem to arrange. It took her a few minutes as she was answering phones and staying busy at the counter but she finally got the promised power cord. Kelly hooked it up to the golf cart and then they began walking west towards Duval where they disappeared into the evening crowd of eccentric revelers: interlocked in a one-fingered hand hold.

  ***

  After finding a concealed location from where he could escape prying eyes, Owen finally allowed himself to relax. He was famished. He began opening up the Powerbars and consuming them each in one and a half bites. He washed it down with a liter of water before opening a second bottle. Then he removed the revolver that Kelly had given him and held it in his hand. He wondered what the cops would do to an out of town black man with no identification who was crawling through the jungle growth with a revolver the size of most men’s forearms. Guess I better not get caught, he thought to himself.

  Owen gazed around at the sparsely lit area before him. There was a cyclone fence that he knew would be a bitch to try and climb over. He’d need a carpet or something to toss over the concertina wire that had been purposefully spooled over the top the six-foot chain link. Then he glanced over by the gate and saw that there was a small gap between the bottom of it and the drive w
here he might be able to squirm underneath. From his position it only looked like about four inches of clearance but it seemed like a reasonable place to start. Owen continued his belly crawl through the scrub as he kept an eye out for snakes. He was happy to take on a rogue element of the CIA but the thought of running into large snakes in the dark was the one thing that scared the shit out of him.

  He painstakingly crawled forward towards the gate in an effort to remain unseen. As he neared the gate he heard a concerning sound. Thankfully, it was not the hiss of a stray snake that had taken a sudden curiosity in him. Rather it was a car. Owen saw the lights approaching and remained laying flat. Surely the vehicle would continue on by so he could continue penetrating the fortress. The headlights were bright and they cast long shadows over the surrounding landscape as it made a half turn and stopped right in front of the gate. Owen was transfixed on the vehicle. Maybe its driver would open the gate so he could quickly slip in behind it, unnoticed in the dark. Owen thought that Deluca’s and Franco’s crew had seemed pretty serious about being gone for awhile. So who was in the stretched Lincoln Town Car? Moreover, what did they want?

 

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