Zane: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense

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Zane: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense Page 8

by Gunn, Autumn


  “That’s correct.”

  “In these higher level cases; where there’s a VIP going over from this launching point. Do you have surveillance? Are they doing the same thing?”

  “It seems to be about fifty-fifty.”

  “When the thug who is supposed to guide the boat stays to guide the boat is he armed?”

  “No. He won’t take weapons to the sea. Too risky. He’ll get in too much trouble.”

  “So we’re going to have the two kids and maybe a boat captain. I’m using boat captain very liberally. That boat captain isn’t even armed.”

  “Do we have connections with the Turkish Coast Guard?”

  “We do, but they’re dodgy.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because their pockets are getting fat from the Turk and guys like him.”

  “So they can’t be trusted?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “No problem. We let them clear the Turkish Coast Guard and then we take them half way through.”

  “How do we do that?” Frost asked.

  “Easy. Our fake commandos. Shake them up while they’re out to sea. Fake commandos get the trafficker subdued then I come in and take out the commandos and save the day. Get the kids across and the Turk owes me a favor.”

  “But the Turk doesn’t even know who you are and why would he care about you?” Abbey said.

  “Because I’m going to take out the commandos. Dead. The kids won’t know if they’re supposed to be Greek Coast Guard or from some sort of rival organization. Either way I’m in trouble. Now I’m being hunted. I have no choice but to go to the Turk. He’ll see that. Since I’m skilled and I did him a solid with the kids, and more importantly to him their dad, he’ll probably even hire me.”

  “That’s a crazy plan, but it could work,” Frost said.

  “So let’s say you get inside,” Abbey said. “Then what?”

  “I start gathering intel. From what we know they’re not violent, right? They’re not going to ask me to kill anyone. I just gather intel and build a case against them. And of course I find out who the top dogs are in this entire thing. We want to take down the big fish, right?”

  “Definitely. And please don’t forget about our agent.”

  “Of course not. That’s understood. I’m in this for her and for Devlin. That’s all.”

  Frost and Abbey leaned back in their chairs.

  “Zamora, this is better than what we brought to the table, but we have to run it by some people. Check it for legality and potential pitfalls. We can’t make a mistake early that allows the courts to throw the whole thing out later.”

  “Bureaucracy. I understand.”

  “Not just that. People’s rights are at stake here. Also, just simple humanity. Good vs. evil.”

  “And good’s going to win if I have anything to say about it.”

  No one said anything for a few seconds. Frost mentioned to the waiter for the check.

  “We have to get going. The clock’s a ticking,” Frost said.

  “Understand.”

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  They walked out. I sat in my chair and finished my beer. The view wasn’t so bad either. There were plenty of elegant and sophisticated women strolling by. They were as eager to look at me as I was to look at them. Although my eyes checked out every one of them, my mind was on Abbey. These girls were playing a game of elegance and sophistication. Who knows if that’s what they really represented. With Abbey I could see it. Sense it. Feel it. She might not be prancing around Mykonos town in designer labels with such panache, but she was what sophistication was all about. She wore the clothes her job required, and she wore them well. I could tell those boxy issued uniforms that should have fit her like a tent had been altered. She cared about her appearance, even if it was just the civilian attire the DEA had issued her. She was also the true form of sophistication. To me the truest. Her mind. It could banter. I knew this even though I could sense she was holding back. She could keep up. Hold her own. She could also problem solve. If that wasn’t enough her thoughts and her heart were in the right place. She wanted to help people. Make the world a better place. I wanted to offer her any help I could in achieving those noble goals.

  My phone rang that evening. I wasn’t expecting it.

  “Zamora, it’s Claire Abbey.”

  “Good evening, Claire Abbey. What can I do for you?”

  “Can you meet down at Agios Stefanos beach in fifteen minutes?”

  I looked at my watch. 2230. I looked at my beer. Half empty. “I don’t see why not.”

  “See you then,” she said just before I heard the dial tone. I finished the beer in one swig. I slid into my flip-flops and made my way down the hill.

  Abbey was sitting along the small concrete barrier separating the road from the sand. She was right where the bus picks up to take the tourists into Mykonos town. She was holding two Mythos beers that she had probably purchased from the shop just diagonal across the street.

  “Have a beer with me?”

  “Can’t say no to that,” I said.

  She stood up and stepped over the small concrete barrier onto the sand. I followed suit and she handed me the beer.

  “Do you think this is going to work?”

  I could see she was really concerned. More than I would expect for a mission that seemed so routine. It was so routine I could barely even call it a mission.

  “It’s going to work,” I said. “We’re going to find that agent of yours and put an end to these bad guys’ nonsense.”

  Abbey didn’t say anything. We just continued walking north along the beach. She was walking slowly. Taking slow, deliberate, big swings with each leg that kicked up sand. Then she stopped.

  “Do you think she’s still alive?”

  I couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense for them to kill her, especially if they know she’s an agent. These guys don’t really seem like they could use that kind of heat. Plus they seem more intent on just laying low and moving their product.”

  I saw a tear roll down her cheek.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  She looked up at me and then in one quick motion fell into my chest. She was crying. It wasn’t uncontrollable, but it was close. I wrapped my arms around her. She felt lifeless at first then she squeezed my shirt before backing away.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see me like this.”

  “It’s OK. We’re all human sometimes.”

  “Thanks.”

  The beach was coming to an end. “We can sit here,” I said. She didn’t say anything. She just plopped down. I joined her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Claire Abbey looked out to sea. She had her hands on her knees and her feet in the sand. She looked like a little girl waiting for her ship to come in. But she looked calm. Peaceful, which was a big change from a few moments earlier.

  “You can probably guess I’m new to the agency.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “They train you for all these things, but nothing compares to real life. That agent that’s missing; I knew her really well. She was my mentor.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Johnson. Jennifer Johnson. Agent Jennifer Johnson from Columbus, Ohio. Forty-two years old.” She stopped talking, but continued to stare into the distance.

  “The agency recommended I go in.”

  “They wanted to put a newbie undercover? A young blonde in Turkey. Are they crazy?”

  “That’s what Agent Johnson said. The agency thought I was better bait. I could speed along the process. The guys would lower their guards much quicker. More likely to make mistakes.”

  “More likely to get you killed.”

  “You sound just like Agent Johnson. She fought tooth and nail. Convinced them that she would go in. And now she’s missing.”

  I wanted to tell her she couldn’t second-guess what happened, but I couldn’t. I had been in si
milar circumstances plenty of times. Luckily things always worked out, but you’re always going to second guess it. It takes years of practice and exposure not to. At least that’s what the Navy shrinks tell you. It’s not true. You still wonder what would have been. I reached over and put my arm around her. “We’re going to get Agent Johnson. Everything’s going to be OK.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Experience. Training.”

  At least five minutes went by. “Thanks for cheering me up. At least a little.”

  “Did it work?” I asked.

  “Not really. OK, maybe a little, but regardless I appreciate it.” Abbey reached over and gave me a hug. As she pulled away she stopped momentarily to look into my eyes. She kissed me on the right cheek. “Thank you.” She stood up as if to leave.

  “You can thank me when we bring Agent Johnson home.” She smiled.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Not going to finish your beer?”

  “No. That was just for you really. Didn’t want you to drink alone.”

  “Thoughtful.”

  She laughed.

  We made our way back to the bus stop into town. It was too late for a bus so we waited a few minutes until a cab arrived.

  “Almost forgot to tell you,” Abbey said. “Frost wants to meet tomorrow morning at 0800 to go over your plan. Iron out all the details.”

  “He’s going to try and shoot holes in it?”

  “I don’t think so. He seemed to like it when we got back. He was pacing around the room. I think at first he was trying to find glaring flaws. He couldn’t. Then he tried to come up with something better. He couldn’t. Then he finally sat at the table and started working on the nuances. He’s in.”

  “Great. So where at 0800?”

  “Hotel Nazos.”

  “Near the School of Fine Arts?” I said.

  “That’s the one. See you there.”

  I smiled and carefully shut the cab door. Then she was gone. Off into the night.

  The next morning we went over the minutia of the plan until it was solid. At least as solid as a plan can be before you implement it. One that would be implemented at sea with a few unknown variables. It would have to do for now.

  Chapter 3

  A text came right back from Claire Abbey. It said: When can we meet?

  Now

  Where?

  I thought about it for a second. Agios Theologos Restaurant

  My phone vibrated. I looked at the message: There in 20.

  Abbey was already sitting down when I arrived. It was on the other side of the island, but I still did a walk-through first. Scanned the area and went to the toilet. Washed my hands and walked the long way to her table. Just a bunch of tourists.

  “You trying to max out my expense account?”

  “Not even. Prices aren’t what you’d think.”

  “How in the world would you know that?”

  “Ate here before.”

  “When were you here?”

  “Few years back. Windsurfing holiday with some buddies.”

  “You windsurf?”

  “When there’s wind. Yes.”

  “How was last night?”

  “Windy.”

  “But no windsurfing?”

  “Thought never crossed my mind.” I filled her in on the events. Got her all caught up.

  “Sounds solid,” she said. “At least as solid as we could have hoped.”

  “Yeah. We’ll see what’s up with this first assignment. See what they’re carrying and how everything goes.”

  “But we don’t have too much time. Agent Johnson, remember?”

  “Of course. But if we push we risk blowing everything.” I took a sip of my water. “Speaking of agents, how are Agents Dimitriadis and Papadakis?”

  “Good. Said they couldn’t have held their breaths much longer though. You got out of there just in time.”

  “I was counting in my head. Considered leaving the luggage, but there was the potential of too much evidence. Had to have it.”

  “Agreed.”

  “What the play with the agents?”

  “The refugees are already spreading rumors they’re Greek Coast Guard. Dirty deeds. It’s not very plausible. They see the uniforms and the precision. They pin them as commandos or at least very well trained. That and how can they evade the Coast Guard? They assume it has to be government insiders.”

  “But that’s not what we’re going with?”

  “Not at all. We don’t need that backlash. They’re pirates. Plain and simple. A couple Greek guys who lost a lot of money in the financial crisis. Tired of the austerity measures that Germany is pushing on them. It will draw sympathy from the Greeks. No outrage from either side.”

  “But it will also show potential copycats not to even try it.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And about the mysterious and sexy guy who got away?” I said deadpan.

  “Your refugees haven’t spoken yet. We’re keeping a close eye on them. In their asylum interview they just said they came over on a boat like everyone else.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Very.”

  I raised my shot of ouzo for a toast. She met me half way, right in the middle of the table.

  “Yamas,” I said.

  “Yamas.”

  “So?”

  “So authorities don’t know who the guy is yet. Suspected trafficker from rival syndicate. Gives the Turk some clout if he decides to flaunt it.”

  “Doubtful. At least right now.”

  “True. The American spin will be with possible ties to ISIS.”

  “Do we want to go that route right away?”

  “We need to at least get them thinking. Most are following the refugee crisis right now, but when summer holidays are over it will be back to school for the wives and kids and the guys will be plopped down on the couch watching football. By that time they will have forgotten. We’ll start planting the seeds now. It’ll make it easier in the long run.”

  “So we’re just one small part in this whole cog. This whole global takedown operation.”

  “Hardly. Without us there is no takedown. There is no operation.”

  “Are you ready to order?” the waiter said.

  For the next two hours we sat and drank ouzo and I shared some of my adventures from my SEAL days. We split goat from the oven, grilled fish, Greek salad, and French fries. When we thought we didn’t have anymore room left to stuff anything the waiter arrived with a complimentary dessert. Cake with Greek honey and Greek ice cream. We found space. We were sitting across the table as the sun began to set. We rotated our chairs a bit so we could watch it together. We ordered some water to offset the ouzo. The water went down quickly so we decided it was safe to cap off the afternoon with a bottle of rosé. I had nowhere to be and no rush to get there. Abbey either. We closed the tab and walked to the parking lot to catch a cab.

  “Ever go for a night swim?” I said.

  “At my friend’s house. We used to all the time.”

  “Swimming pool, pond, or lake?”

  “Swimming pool.”

  “That doesn’t count!” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “OK. It counts, but it doesn’t compare to the ocean, or the sea.”

  “This is true,” she said.

  “Ready to live a little?”

  “I am living. A lot.”

  “How about some more?”

  “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

  “What do you need one of those things for?”

  “Zamora! Come on.”

  I grabbed her by the hand and walked her down to the beach. There was no one there. Just the two of us.

  “Here’s the plan. You can go behind that rock over there.” I pointed to my right. “I’ll go behind this rock over here.” I pointed to my left. “When you’re ready you can enter the sea first. Once you’re all the way in, just make an owl noise.”

  “An owl noise?”
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