Charley Manner series Box Set

by Michael Marnier

  Hawk pulled out his SOG knife and started digging along the edge of the circular depression. “Looks like the edge of a door.”

  The blade sunk in about two inches as he dragged it along the arc. Halfway around the circle it stopped. Hawk blew away the dust. “A hinge … and look there, another one. It’s a trap door.”

  We both heard a metallic click and looked toward the tower entryway. “We’ve got company.” I covered the crack and symbol with dirt and droppings then moved a few feet away. Hawk ran to the edge of the tower entrance, palmed his knife and hid behind the entry door. Three men rushed into the room, two with guns drawn. They didn’t see Hawk.

  The unarmed man spoke, “I told you we would be watching you. Where is your partner?”

  I looked at the man. “Carlos Bandinera?”

  “Si, and you are Señor Charley Manner, right? I do not recall telling you my last name when we spoke on the phone. Where did you learn it?”

  “A fish told me.”

  One of the armed men started to walk back toward the door.

  Carlos said, “Funny gringo. Have you found the map? Is this tower where our diamonds are hidden?”

  “Come on, Carlos. We don’t have any map. And what do you mean diamonds?”

  Hawk sprang out and gave the closest gunman a high kick to the throat, snapping his head back, knocking him out cold. Still airborne, Hawk whirled and threw his knife at the second gunman before he could turn around. The knife sunk into his triceps, but he still fired a shot at me before he dropped the gun. I felt the sting in my arm. No time to worry about it. I finished him off with my own high kick to the jaw. We needed to make a fast exit before more bad guys arrived.

  Carlos stood still as I bolted past him. He just smiled and said, “We will be watching.”

  Hawk gave him a middle-finger salute, retrieved his knife and followed me back to the boat. Tied next to it, Carlos’ boat sidled up to the fenders we’d hung over the gunwales. Hawk pointed at the foredeck. A mini-drone four feet wide sat there, micro-engines ticking as they cooled. It was similar to the backpack UAVs we used in Iraq. “So that’s how Carlos knew we were here.”

  Blood dripped from my sleeve as I grabbed the tie line of Carlos’ boat and wrapped it on an aft cleat of Too Fast For U. The bullet had grazed my forearm. I ignored it. Just a scratch. “Let’s make it more difficult for them to follow.” Once we cleared the rocks, I released the line.

  An hour later, we pulled into Marathon Marina and headed for the Blue Parrot. Jonesy poured three shots of tequila, two for Hawk and me, the third to clean the wound on my arm. He dressed it up and served us conch fritters while we planned our next move.

  A FAVOR

  SHE SWAYED UP THE WALK and knocked on my RV door. This time she was alone. I had just taken a shower and put a towel around my waist as I opened the door. She stood under the awning to avoid the early morning down pour, her trench coat wrapped tight around curves I hadn’t noticed the last time she was here. The coat barely reached her mid-thigh, accentuating a pair of long legs. I felt a rush as my blood pressure rose. “My favorite DEA agent. Back so soon?”

  “Good morning, Charley. I bet I’m the only DEA agent you know. Can I come in?”

  Guess she didn’t care about my wardrobe. “Anything for the war on drugs. Step right in.”

  She closed the door behind her and twisted the deadbolt. “Look Charley, I know my visit last week probably ticked you off, but I need your help.”

  I smiled and tilted my head. “What do you really want, Vicky?” She looked at my towel and the slight bulge in it. I sucked in my gut. When was the last time I worked out? Never mind.

  “I need hard evidence to nail Campinera and I need it fast. Our analysts have been unable to decipher the map. All they could tell me is a cache of diamonds lies somewhere on Cay Sal Bank, probably Elbow Cays but they’re not sure. State Department flunkies contacted Bahamian authorities for permission to search but all I get is one delay after another.”

  She took a step closer. The smell of her perfume triggered a response from the bulge below my amidships. I dropped my hands in front, tried to look cool.

  “What do you want me to do? Don’t you have DEA assets that can help?”

  “Only for stateside operations. I’ve got orders to stand down till we get Bahamian clearance.”

  She slipped off her trench coat. Her dress was a silk sarong, shorter than her coat, clinging to every curve, leaving little for my imagination. She pressed closer and placed her hand on my forearm. I winced as she touched the bullet wound. It had scabbed over, but it was still tender. She looked at the ugly gash. “How’d you hurt yourself?”

  “The bow line on my boat slipped from a dock cleat. I grabbed for it and got a rope burn.”

  Vicky raised her eyebrows. “I doubt that but I’m sure you can take care of yourself.”

  With one hand still covering a rising mizzenmast, I tried to stay on the subject. “So, what do you want, Vicky?”

  She cradled my arm, gently touched the wound with her fingertip. “Do you think you and Hawk could do a little unofficial recon at Elbow Cays? If I wait for the bureaucrats, this lead will go cold and Campinera will slither away again.” She pressed against the towel and looked up with those eyes.

  I swallowed the drool forming in my mouth. “I’ll speak to Hawk about it.”

  She elbowed me playfully in the ribs, loosening the towel a little, but it held fast around my waist. “You can call him as soon as we’re finished.”

  I swallowed more drool. “I’m sure he’ll want to help.”

  Clearly, I was the victim of enhanced interrogation techniques. Putty in her hands but I kept my mouth shut about the encounter at the lighthouse. Hawk and I planned a second trip, this time at night, so it will be easy to accommodate her request. But not right now. I pulled her close. She wanted hard evidence.

  SECOND TRIP

  O-DARK-THIRTY, no moon and no wind; we approached Elbow Cays at idle speed. Back to the trap door marked with the diamond symbol and numbers. Under cover of darkness, our visit should not attract Carlos and company. Either way, we’re armed and ready.

  Hawk’s SOG knife made quick work clearing the gap around the door. Using a crowbar, we lifted the slab without much trouble. A blast of cool air scented with brine whooshed out. The breeze pulsated in rhythm with the faint sounds of surf crashing on rocks.

  I turned on my helmet-lamp and looked down the shaft. A metal ladder, wet with condensation and covered with layers of rust, was fastened to the wall. Climbing down, I concentrated on the slippery rungs, counting each one. Hawk stood at the edge above and fed out a lifeline. The shaft was just wide enough to fit my shoulders if I kept my arms extended above my head. The sound of surf echoed louder as I descended.

  I looked closely at the seventh rung before putting any pressure on it. It was loose and wouldn’t support my weight. I skipped over it. Same with rung fifteen. The verse on the map said to choose number thirty. Carefully, I applied pressure to the thirtieth rung. It held fast. I craned my neck around, looking for a likely hiding place, a loose brick or another sign. The curved wall opposite the ladder had another round door. It was set in a rubber seal. No handles. I leaned against it but it wouldn’t budge. A few hard nudges on the left edge with my shoulder moved it a fraction of an inch. I pushed harder and it swung inward.

  I leaned in and shone my light on the wall of what appeared to be a concrete cistern. Probably used for fresh water supply by the lighthouse keepers. At the bottom, dancing in the light, the water level rose and fell a few inches around several dislodged bricks, in sync with the waves crashing on the cay. I watched it for a few cycles. Each time, the level rose more than it fell. The bottom of the cistern must be rotted out to let in ocean water from below. The tide was coming in.

  Hawk called from above, keeping his voice low, “CJ, you okay?”

  “I’m okay. Found a door into a water tank. Going in for a look around. Hang tight to the line.
”

  The inner wall of the cistern had no ladder. I slid over the edge using the lifeline to ease myself into the rising water. Opening the access portal must have sped up the inward flow. I scanned the walls, training my light in a spiral pattern as I tread water and rotated my body.

  The portal was located about halfway up the side of the tank. As I focused on the wall, looking for a hide hole where diamonds might be stashed, I didn’t notice how quiet it got until it was too late.

  The water level surged upward and slammed the door shut. It continued to rise but slowed a bit. I guess the top half of the tank is a sealed chamber. I better get my butt out, before it fills. Even a pressurized bubble of air trapped at the top won’t have enough oxygen to last very long.

  I took a deep breath and dove down to the door. Grabbing the edges with my fingertips, I tried to pull it open. Too slippery. Too tight. The water pressure worked against me. The nylon lifeline hung loose as I floated back up to the shrinking air pocket. I dove again, grabbed the line and yanked three times. Hawk yanked back once to acknowledge. I yanked again three times, with greater urgency.

  I floated back to the top of the tank for another breath. Only a foot left and the air was getting stale. I took what I thought was my last breath when the water level started dropping. I looked down and saw a size-15 tactical boot sticking through the open door. Water from the tank rushed out the portal and began filling up the access shaft. No time to look further. We needed to get out, now.

  ~~~

  HAWK STARED DOWN at the water. It had risen to a point twenty feet below the floor. The access door into the cistern was ten feet below that. “I guess we need a new plan, bro.”

  “Roger that. I didn’t see any openings inside except for the crumbled bottom. Before the tide came in, I could hear breakers crashing against rocks. There must be an opening that leads to the outer edge of the cay.”

  Hawk looked out the open window of the tower at the cliff we climbed. It was barely visible in the pre-dawn light. “If it’s a tunnel big enough to make the water surge up so fast, it might allow us to make a water entry. Looks like fifty feet to the cliff from here. Too far to attempt holding our breath. Let’s come back with diving gear.”

  “I agree. Now I understand what the map writing meant when it said look below at lowest of lows … the tide. With rebreathers, we won’t have a problem.”

  Hawk and I kept our SEAL MK25 Draeger rebreathers when we retired. More stealthy than SCUBA. No bubbles plus it’s worn on your chest. The low profile allows easier passage through small openings.

  Back in Too Fast For U, before I cranked the engines, we both heard it. A high-pitched whine echoed off the cliff. Looking up, a mini-drone hovered behind a large boulder. We both waved as I started her up. “They must have night vision on that drone.”

  Hawk nodded and cast off the lines. Time to fly before Campinera unleashes Carlos and his goons. Vicky will be disappointed, but I’ll try to make it up to her. I wonder if she’ll wear her trench coat again.

  SNAGGED AND BAGGED

  KATIE HUNG over the side, gazing at a school of tropical fish below their boat as she and Hilly set sail from Matthew Town, Great Inagua. Sixty feet of crystal, clear water provided an unobstructed view of the coral covered bottom. The dives at the reef were spectacular, well worth the trip from Nassau. The final leg of their honeymoon cruise lay ahead. Hilly had checked the latest weather forecast and looked at his watch. “If we head northwest along the Old Bahama Channel, we’ll get home a day early. We can make a stop at Andros Island. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know, Horatio, that heading skirts the edge of Cuban waters. Didn’t Charley warn you about pirates and drug smugglers on the southern route?”

  “Yes, he did, but I’m thinking that Cuban gunboat patrols will discourage illicit traffic. And I don’t think the Castro brothers are interested in us.”

  Katie hesitated for a moment, then said, “Okay, you’re the captain.”

  ~~~

  TWO DAYS OUT of Matthew Town, just past Cay Lobos, three gunboats surrounded the thirty-foot sloop. Hilly maintained his northwest heading.

  “I thought you said the Cubans wouldn’t bother us.”

  “There’s something not right about this, Kate. I’ve sailed this route before and spotted many gunboats, but they always left me alone.”

  “But we’re not even in Cuban waters.”

  “Right, but that doesn’t seem to matter this time. They’re signaling to board. Hang on, I’m heading north.”

  One of the gunboats maneuvered directly in front, forcing Hilly to drop sails. Two armed men jumped aboard.

  Hilly yelled, “We’re in international waters, you can’t board my boat.”

  One of the men responded by swinging his rifle butt at Hilly’s head. Katie screamed as he went down on the deck. The second man tossed a bow line to the nearest gunboat. A southeast heading told Katie they were going to Cuba. She cradled Hilly’s head after wrapping it with a spare tee shirt to slow the bleeding.

  ~~~

  CARLOS BOARDED the mega yacht and entered the main cabin. Jorge Campinera spun his chair and motioned Carlos to sit on the couch across from him.

  “Are the newlyweds comfortable?”

  “The woman is fine … but very angry and won’t shut up. Her husband has lost some blood and doesn’t look so good.”

  “Make sure he receives medical attention. I don’t want him dead, unless it becomes necessary.”

  “What’s our next move, Boss?”

  Campinera gazed at the gentle swells rolling in from the Atlantic, then turned to face Carlos. “You screwed up my interrogation of Juan, I do not trust your judgment anymore. I will fly to La Isabella tonight to visit our hostages personally. You will contact Charley Manner and arrange a swap. His sister and her husband for a thousand diamonds.”

  Carlos nodded and said, “The man has a deep gash in the head. When do you want to do it?”

  “Have the wound sewn up and give Manner forty-eight hours. If he can’t do it by then, kill the man and drop his body where it will be easily found.”

  RANSOM DEMAND

  HAWK AND I MET for breakfast at the Blue Parrot. Last night’s visit to the lighthouse wasn’t a total bust. At least we understood more of the writing on the map.

  Sitting in a booth in the back corner, away from other customers, we had just gotten our eggs and bacon when Hawk’s cell phone rang. His stone-cold look told me it wasn’t good news. He showed me the caller i.d. and put it on speakerphone with the volume turned way down.

  “Good morning, gentlemen. I do not have Señor Charley’s number, but I suspect you are together. I have some bad news for him. But first, did you find our diamonds?”

  I was hungry and didn’t have patience for this guy. He better have a good reason for calling. “I don’t know anything about diamonds, Carlos. What’s the bad news?”

  “It is unfortunate that you continue to play a game with me, Señor Charley. My drones can see in the dark. We know you visited the Elbow Cays lighthouse.”

  Hawk chimed in, “So what, Carlos. We were checking out the view.”

  “Not funny, and neither is the news I have.”

  “Come on, Carlos. Spit it out. Our breakfast is getting cold.”

  “Pay attention, Señor Charley. We have your sister and her husband.”

  I gagged on a mouthful of coffee. “Not likely, Carlos. They’re still in Nassau last time I checked.”

  “You are mistaken, Señor Charley. They were floundering in their sailboat off the coast of Cuba. Foolish. Lucky for them we arrived before the sharks. Listen closely.”

  I could barely hear her voice. She was crying.

  “Charley, these men are serious. Please listen to them. There isn’t much time. Hilly’s in a bad way.”

  “Katie . . . are you still there? What have they done to you?”

  “Sorry, Señor Charley. You have forty-eight hours to find the diamonds.”

/>   The line went dead. Hawk and I exchanged battle stares. Time for aggressive action. I pulled out my phone and called Vicky.

  ~~~

  VICKY DIDN’T WASTE TIME driving the hundred-mile trip from Miami. She arrived less than two hours after my call. She came alone. I described what Hawk and I found beneath the lighthouse and the ransom call from Carlos. We’re going back ASAP. Our return still must be unofficial. No word yet from the dweebs at State.

  “I know you want to nail Campinera, Vicky, but the situation has become personal.”

  “I understand, Charley. You and Hawk need to do what you need to do to save your sister and her husband. I want to help.”

  “That’s good to hear. Hawk and I have prepped our rebreather gear and borrowed Jonesy’s Chris Craft. No doubt the Cartel is watching the lighthouse. Going in daylight, we don’t want Carlos and his boys to see us approach.”

  “If you do find the diamonds, what then?”

  “You mean when we find them. I know we’re close. With underwater gear, we’ll have more time to search no matter what the tide level is inside the cistern.”

  “You said on the phone that you have only forty-eight hours. I happen to know Campinera just arrived at his penthouse in Miami. I have the phone number we monitor. We can use the diamonds to set up a face-to-face meeting.”

  “We’ll see, Vick. I don’t want to do something that will harm my sister. I doubt if she and Hilly are in the States, so we need to keep some diamonds as a bargaining chip.”

  Hawk said, “We better get moving.”

  The single screw Chris Craft is slower than our Fountain boats and we’ll have a mile underwater swim to the cay.