Cayman Crackdown (Coastal Fury Book 18)

by Matt Lincoln

  Once we were safely out of sight, I pulled over, and Holm and I got back out of the car. The man, whose name I still didn’t know because he’d never given it, grinned as I opened the door and let him out of the car.

  Russo, who had parked her own car right behind mine, glared at him with unconcealed disgust.

  “Enjoy it while it lasts,” she sneered at the man as I unlocked the handcuffs on his wrists. “We’ll find you, eventually.”

  “I’ll look forward to it, gorgeous,” he chuckled before turning and taking off in a flash. He was gone in a blink, melting into the busy city.

  “How annoying,” Russo muttered as Chapman and Hills joined us.

  “You’ll get him, like you said,” I replied encouragingly. “At least now we have something strong to go on. And a reason to keep the crew on the boat. His testimony was enough for us to have probable cause to keep them there, at least while investigating. Once we find something, we can bring them into custody.”

  “Thank goodness,” Russo sighed as she brushed a hand through her long blond hair. “I was so worried I’d completely ruined everything when I realized how he had tricked me. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “It happens to the best of us,” I replied. “Don’t worry. It worked out in the end, right?”

  Some of the tension in her shoulders eased away as she looked up at me.

  “Right.” She smiled, and my stomach did a flip at the way her penetrating green eyes looked up into mine.

  “Not to ruin this charming moment,” Holm deadpanned, “but maybe we can get back to the case?”

  Hills snorted at Holm’s comment, and I rolled my eyes but refrained from firing back a comment to avoid embarrassing Russo. I’d find a way to get back at him later.

  “You’re right,” I replied as I looked back out over the ocean, still visible from the part of the port I’d driven to so we could get away from the prying eyes of the men on board the ship. “Let’s get out there and check out that wreck.”

  17

  Ethan

  The man’s confession had bought us some time, but we still needed to move fast. Though we now had probable cause, the man wasn’t exactly a reliable source, being a criminal himself. The faster we got out to the site of the attack and found the proof we needed to confirm his telling of the events, the faster we could get the crew under arrest.

  “Make sure you keep it on the entire time,” Russo emphasized as she handed me the camera. “As soon as we get images of the guns, I can inform the captain and tell him we are clear to arrest the crew.”

  I nodded as I strapped the small underwater camera to my wrist and did one last check to make sure all my diving gear was ready. It was always important to make sure that everything was in tip-top shape when using any gear other than my own. I had no idea what the previous user might have done, and one tiny malfunction could result in my own death very quickly.

  “Good luck, brother,” Holm pouted off to the side. “Wish I was going down there with you.”

  I wished he was, too, actually. As it was, though, it just wasn’t safe for Holm to dive at the moment. He had just recovered from a bad bout of decompression sickness. He’d even called Diane in an attempt to plead his case, and she, in turn, had threatened to terminate his employment if he did something so stupid.

  Holm wasn’t sure exactly how genuine that threat had been. But in the end, he’d decided not to risk it, which was how I’d ended up here, about to do the dive with Agent Chapman instead.

  He was standing a little ways away, speaking with Hills, who had seemed concerned about the idea of Chapman diving since apparently he’d never actually dived as part of a mission before. I was a little concerned to hear that, but Chapman had assured everyone that it was fine. He was certified for deep-sea dives, after all. Honestly, I wasn’t keen on the idea of going down with a newbie, but it was safer to dive with a partner, so in the end, we’d decided it was best for both of us to go.

  “Make sure it doesn’t turn off,” Russo warned me nervously. “Or fall off. The strap is secure, right?” She reached forward to fiddle with the strong velcro strap holding the camera in place on my wrist.

  “I promise I won't turn it off or drop it.” I smiled at her. I thought it was cute how she seemed to get so worked up about every little detail. She’d done the same right before we headed aboard the cargo ship.

  She looked up at me and blushed suddenly, pulling her hands away from where they were still holding onto my wrist. I couldn’t tell if the blush was from embarrassment over how she’d been fretting or because of our proximity when she’d moved forward to mess with the strap. Either way, I couldn’t help but think that the flush looked pretty against her lightly tanned skin.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said before putting my regulator into my mouth and looking over at Chapman, who was already waiting against the side of the boat. He gave me a thumbs-up, and the two of us fell backward off the side of the boat. I’d braced myself for the cold rush that always came right after I first made contact with the water, but to my surprise, the water was actually pleasantly warm.

  It got colder as I swam down, though, and darker. The warm Italian sun was baking the top layer of the water on the surface, but the sun’s rays didn’t manage to reach down here.

  It took quite some time before I could finally see the ocean floor, my flashlight the only thing that allowed me to see anything at all. I could see the ship then, wide and long, though nowhere near as big as the monster warship that had attacked the Chinese cargo ship.

  There also weren’t any cargo containers littered around, which would undoubtedly make the search easier. As we swam lower, something metallic glinted off the light of my flashlight. I turned at once and immediately spotted what I’d come down here to find. They were all over the ocean floor a few yards away from the ship, some in large piles, and others haphazardly strewn around. The majority were large machine guns, though I quickly spotted some rocket launchers as well, identical to the ones I’d seen in the video of the attack against the Chinese ship.

  I turned to make sure Chapman was heading in the same direction, a little worried about how he might be faring, considering he wasn’t used to diving like Holm and I were. He looked like he was doing fine, though, and was just a few feet behind me.

  I turned back to the wreckage and lifted the camera, making sure that my flashlight illuminated the area well. I was certain that Russo must be thrilled. She was getting the exact proof that she needed.

  I continued to swim around, slowly moving the camera to ensure that I got good, clear footage of everything. I came to an abrupt stop when I spotted a grenade, and my stomach churned when I spotted what looked like a dozen more, all piled carelessly over one another.

  They looked like they were military-grade, most likely professionally made, and therefore probably stable. Unlike, say, some homemade pipe bomb. That meant that there was probably little chance of them going off without warning.

  Regardless, grenades weren’t meant to be submerged in the ocean, and they certainly weren’t meant to be plopped into precarious piles like that. Even underwater, the shrapnel from a grenade could cause some serious damage. The shrapnel from thirty grenades would be catastrophic.

  “Is everything okay?” The radio earpiece in my mask crackled to life. It was Russo. Her voice sounded frantic. “Were those grenades? Do you need to come back up?”

  My heart pounded as I quickly backed away from the pile, bumping into Chapman as I went. I turned around and found him frozen, staring down at the small explosives with wide, horrified eyes.

  What a way for him to have his first on-the-job dive, I thought to myself as I watched him gather himself with a small shake of his head.

  I looked at him and pointed back up toward the surface before lifting both of my hands in a questioning gesture. He shook his head in response and pointed down toward the shell of the battered ship, indicating that he wanted us to continue searching. He was righ
t, we’d needed proof that the Italian ship was actually full of smugglers, but we also needed to see what we could find in the pirates’ ship. There could very well be useful information inside that might help us find them.

  “I’m assuming you won’t be coming up then.” Russo sighed over the radio. “Alright… just be careful.”

  I wished I could respond. Honestly, I was a little worried, but the ship was far enough away that even if one of the grenades went off, the blast probably wouldn’t reach us, thanks to the friction from the water. Probably.

  Regardless, I did my best to hurry as I swam over to the entrance of the bridge. I really didn’t want to bank on probably being far away from an explosion to be safe, especially after I’d almost been crushed by a cargo container during my last dive. As I passed the side of the boat, I noticed several large scorch marks and holes along the side, similar to the ones Holm and I had found on the sunken Chinese vessel.

  How ironic, I thought to myself as I swam through the open doorway into the bridge. They were taken down by the exact thing they used to attack the other ship.

  The inside of the ship was completely dark, so I lifted my flashlight higher. I flinched and inhaled sharply when the bloated face of a corpse suddenly confronted me, just inches from my own. The man was wearing a light gray tank top and a pair of torn jeans. He didn’t have any physical injuries, and from the way his face and stomach were pasty and bloated, it was pretty clear that he’d drowned.

  As I roved my flashlight over the interior of the bridge, I realized that the entire thing was full of unfortunate souls that had met the same fate. It was a gruesome sight, but after a moment, I collected myself and refocused. I continued through the bridge, keeping my eye out for anything that might look useful.

  I found a room that I assumed had been used as an armory, as there were guns all over the floor and on a few of the shelves on the walls. Unfortunately, I didn’t see much more aside from that. It looked like the pirates might have been traveling light deliberately. It made sense if their sole intention was to take down the Italian smugglers and steal all their guns.

  I began to make my way back toward the outside of the ship when something caught my eye. Several of the bodies floating nearby were heavily tattooed, and I noticed that many of the tattoos seemed to feature the same snake motif.

  I swam closer to one of the bodies and lifted the camera again to get a good image of the tattoo. As I did, Chapman shined his own flashlight onto the body to better illuminate the tattoo. Maybe it was nothing, but the man who’d spilled the info about the guns had mentioned that the pirates originated as a gang. If that were true, it would make sense that several of the men would have identical tattoos. Maybe we’d be able to glean some information from the images.

  Once I’d gotten footage of several of the men’s tattoos, I looked at Chapman and nodded toward the entrance before swimming back out into the open water. I’d ask Russo for a copy once we were back on land.

  I was extra careful as I ascended back up to the surface. The incident with Holm was still fresh in my mind, and the idea of spending any length of time inside that little tube was chilling enough for me to make sure I did everything I could to avoid getting decompression sickness.

  When we finally emerged on the surface, I had to close my eyes against the bright sunlight. I’d gotten so accustomed to the darkness below that just being back on the surface caused my eyes to sting.

  “Come on!” Holm called as he helped pull me back up onto the boat. “You got some good shots down there.”

  “Thanks,” I replied after spitting out my regulator.

  “You did.” Russo beamed at me, the tablet displaying the live stream from the camera still clutched in her hands. “But… why did you suddenly record all those bodies so closely? I was so shocked.”

  She grimaced at me as I turned to help Chapman onto the boat, evidently disgusted at the memory of the corpses, and I immediately missed the warm smile she’d shown me just a moment before.

  “I thought we might be able to look up the tattoos some of the men had,” I explained as I reached down to take off my fins. “If they’re some kind of gang symbol, we might be able to learn something from them. Maybe there are police records of people with similar tattoos.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Hills muttered from where he was leaning against the exterior wall of the cockpit. “We can have our intelligence analyst run a search.”

  “I understand now.” Russo nodded as she accepted my explanation. “I’ll make a copy of the video for you. Still, ugh, I wasn’t expecting to have such a close view of a corpse.”

  “Sorry,” I chuckled as she tucked the tablet into a heavy laptop bag.

  “Don’t be,” she replied. “You were doing your job. Oh! I called Captain Vitale, by the way. The moment we had solid footage of the guns, I called to let him know we had the proof we needed to take the men into custody. They are probably being arrested now, actually.”

  “That’s great,” I replied, genuinely happy to hear that. Even though the Italian smugglers weren’t the focus of our case, they were still a danger to the United States. They were directly supplying the Viboras with their weapons, after all, and if they had any intention of trafficking those guns into the US, then their crimes would have fallen under MBLIS’s jurisdiction, anyway.

  “Let’s get back to shore,” Hills suggested. “Fast. I’d rather not be close to those grenades for any longer than we have to.”

  “Well, there’s little chance the explosion would reach us all the way up here,” Chapman replied as he crouched down to rummage through his bag. “Maybe the shock waves would, but by then, the water would have absorbed the majority of the blast. We should call it in, anyway, though. Regardless of how much damage they’re capable of inflicting from down there, we really can’t leave a bunch of weapons and bombs just sitting there.”

  “Good idea,” I agreed as he began to call it in. The last thing we needed was someone coming to try to retrieve it, like the pirates or some curious onlooker who had seen the attack go down.

  After finishing his call, Chapman informed us that the Coast Guard would be coming to clear everything away safely, and we lapsed into silence as we made our way back to shore. The ride back was relaxing, the water calm as the boat sped across its surface.

  “So, you dive often as a part of your job?” Russo asked me a few minutes later. Up until that point, she’d seemed content to stare out over the water. She was still leaning against the side of the boat, but she turned to look at me before speaking again. “That’s what you told Danieli, right? That you and your partner often go out on dives to look for evidence?”

  “Yeah, we do,” I replied as I moved to lean against the side of the boat next to her. “A lot of our cases tend to involve international waters, so we get a lot of opportunities to go out on dives.”

  “And it’s not scary?” she asked, cringing a little as though just the thought of diving was frightening to her. “Being so far underwater, with just that little thing in your mouth?”

  “It can be kind of scary at first,” I replied as I remembered my first few days of training. It really could be terrifying. It was common for first-time divers to panic even in the shallow pools we used to practice before going out into the real thing. Regulators were only designed to handle a normal volume of oxygen intake. If someone started hyperventilating while underwater, the regulator would not deliver an adequate amount of oxygen, which would only make breathing more difficult. “Once you get used to it, though, it’s really amazing. There’s nothing like the feeling of being down there, exploring where humans were never meant to go.”

  “It does sound exciting,” she sighed wistfully. “I’ve always loved the ocean. I’ve been fascinated by divers for a long time, but it always seemed way too scary for me to try. I think I would panic down there.”

  “I don’t know about that.” I smiled at her. “You seem like a really cautious person, Russo. You didn�
��t hold back when you were making sure I handled the camera correctly.”

  “I suppose.” She smiled back shyly. “Though maybe that could work against me. It’s not good to be overly careful, either. And you can call me Gabriella if you want.”

  “Alright.” I smiled at her. “You can call me Ethan, then. And when it comes to diving, it’s better to be overly careful. You should give it a try if you’re interested. I bet the Italian coast has a lot of amazing diving spots.”

  “Maybe I will,” she replied with a short nod, a small, shy smile settling over her face.

  We spent the rest of the boat ride back chatting about nothing in particular. Gabriella was easy to talk to. She was a bit shy, but she opened up right away whenever the topic of conversation veered into something she was interested in. By the time we pulled back into the port, I actually felt disappointed that it was time to get off.

  “Well, take a look at that,” Hills grunted with an air of smugness in his voice. I turned to see what he was talking about and realized at once why he sounded so satisfied.

  Just a little way away, about a dozen police cars were lined up in front of the Italian cargo boat, their lights flashing. Even from this distance, I could make out men being escorted off the ship by uniformed officers, down the stairs, and into the waiting police vehicles.

  “Good,” I grunted as we climbed off the boat and back onto the solid ground of the dock. “They’re complicit in everything that the Viboras group has done if they were the ones who provided them with the weapons they used to commit all those crimes.”

  “It’s just a shame that the little weasel that revealed their wrongdoings ran away,” Gabriella noted with disappointment. “I will get him, though. I meant what I said. I’m going to put out a warrant for his arrest.”

  “You’ll get him,” I told her reassuringly. I felt a little bad for the guy since he had technically helped us. Then again, he was a smuggler too, and turning on his friends didn’t magically absolve him of his own crimes.