~~~
VICKY OPENED HER EYES and smiled that smile at me. She’d been in and out of consciousness for the past forty-eight hours, waking briefly in a panic. Now she seemed calm and more like her old self—ready to kick ass.
“Charley, I think I’m back from my trip to hell. It is you, right?”
I took both her hands and kissed them softly. “It’s me for sure, sweetheart. We’ve got some catching up to do.”
“You first. What happened to Campinera and where is that scumbag Bachero?” Fire shot from her eyes. “You know I was set up.”
“Yeah, I got the word from Arnez. He told me you were following up a lead that came from Bachero’s department. Said you were dead.”
Vicky shook her head. “Drugged, hooded and hog-tied but not dead.” She forced a smile.
“Arnez also gave me the lead that brought Hawk and me to Cozumel. He’s done as a prosecutor and will be lucky to get his license back.”
Vicky sat up with a groan. “I guess I owe him for that. What do you mean done as a prosecutor?”
“That’s right. You weren’t there when the verdict came in. Before Judge Simons called the jury, Michaels dropped a bombshell. He showed the judge evidence that Arnez owed Jorge 900 G’s in gambling debt. Simons declared a mistrial.”
Vicky’s eyes narrowed. “I told you something wasn’t right.”
“Here’s some good news. Campinera’s dead. You might say he had a swimming accident. A great white ate him for breakfast a week ago.”
Vicky brightened. “That is good news. I hope the shark didn’t get indigestion.”
“You can scratch Dino Bachero off your payback list, too. He ran into a SOG knife when Hawk and I visited Campinera on his yacht. Long story, but it has a happy ending.”
“Spare me the details for now, Charley, I’m so tired.”
“Sure. Get some rest. I’ll put the do-not-disturb sign out. No one else except Hawk and Katie knows you’re here.”
I gave Vicky a kiss and headed for the door. She called out in barely a whisper, “Charley?”
I turned and saw tears flowing down her cheeks. “Yeah?”
“Thanks. I really thought I was going to die in that cage or get eaten by the croc. When I’m back to one hundred percent, I want you to help me find Guizarro.”
“Already on my list. Now, you rest.”
~~~
IT TOOK A MONTH for Vicky to recover. Despite nearly starving her to death, Guizarro failed to learn anything about the DEA’s plans to shut down his takeover of Campinera’s territory. She didn’t spill the names of DEA informants either. Her silence was the only reason she was still alive when Hawk and I found her. And none too soon. Vicky said Guizarro was losing patience and planned to feed her to the croc the next day.
Vick and I have been together 24/7 since we got back from Cozumel. She has not contacted her people at the DEA. Can’t trust anyone, even her boss. Campinera and Carlos are dead but Guizarro deserves payback. Not yet. We need to sort out which side all the players are on, inside and outside the DEA and FBI.
GIFT FROM THE SEA
HAWK BACKED DOWN the boat while I wrestled with a big one, keeping my rod high so the fish wouldn’t toss the hook. I sat in my lucky fish fighting chair securely mounted on Too Fast For U’s aft deck. The fish was going to lose this battle. She breached the surface shaking the lure, trying to release the line. It was a wahoo… a big wahoo, close to a hundred pounds. I could taste the broiled filets drenched in melted butter topped with sliced almonds and a special hot sauce only Katie knows how to make. Her leaps were spectacular. The wahoo, not Katie. We came back to Cay Sal Bank near the Wall for marlin, but wahoo tastes even better.
“Keep that line tight, you squid.”
I looked back at Hawk and grinned. I would have given him a middle finger salute, but this fish was too ornery to land one-handed. Katie and Vicky came out of the cabin to witness my fabulous fish fighting ability.
It took close to an hour to get the fish on the deck. She nearly smoked my reel and spit out the hook making several leaps before running out of spunk.
Hawk put the throttles in neutral and came off the helm to grab the leader wire once I got her up to the port gunwale. He hauled her up. She was as long as he was tall. Something odd about her mouth. The marlin lure stuck out one side but the other side had a large hook protruding from the corner of her jaw.
I removed the hook with needle nose pliers. A steel leader was attached to the hook. I pulled on it. It was wrapped around the end of a rubber tube that had been crammed down her throat. Laying it on the deck, I cut it open and diamonds tumbled out. Big diamonds. I made a quick count … one hundred.
I looked up at Hawk. “Finders keepers?”
He grinned, “A ten-million-dollar gift from the sea. I sure would like to pay off the loan on my boat.”
“Me too.”
Hawk said, “I know a diamond dealer in Nassau.”
Vicky just smiled. Katie went below to make more drinks. I stashed the gems and we headed east across the straits toward Bahama Bank. You might say today turned out to be a good day, but Hawk still scanned the horizon for signs of trouble. Out here on the straits, you never know when it will cross your path.
Wahoo!
THE END
DEEP STRAIT
DEEP STRAIT
MICHAEL MARNIER
Copyright © 2019 Michael Marnier
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed
or electronic form without written permission. This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, businesses, companies, religious
entities, events or locales
is entirely coincidence.
Charley Manner finds trouble in the Deep Strait when DEA Agent Vicky Borne returns from FAST team training at Quantico with a request. She’s out for revenge for the rape and torture delivered by Mexican drug lord Jose Guizarro during her last op and wants Charley's help to track him down. On the way to Guizarro’s headquarters on Cozumel they stumble upon a secret transfer station forty miles south of Key West. What they find in the depths beneath a deep-water oil platform is more life-threatening than illegal drugs.
HEADS TURNED toward the door, but I didn’t need to look. Swept in by the warm breeze from Boot Key Harbor, her perfume told me who had entered the bar. I spun on my stool and stood.
“Hey Vicky. How’s my favorite DEA agent?”
My bar-mates’ eyes tracked the statuesque brunette like radar beams as she swayed up to me and accepted my embrace.
“Hello, Charley. It’s good to see you fit and tan. I’ve come to ask another favor.”
Vicky has a direct, no-nonsense style. I remembered the first time she showed up at my door. She was tracking down Jorge Campinera, a Cuban drug lord, and thought I knew something about a map Hawk and I found on a corpse floating near Deadman Key in Cay Sal Bank.
Her contacts with the eavesdroppers at NSA filled her in about a cellphone call Hawk got from one of the Cuban cartel henchmen. It seems his boss wanted the map. He believed one of his mules stole a large drug delivery payment and the map showed where it was hidden. In fact, the payment was in diamonds. But that’s another story. You can read about it in Trouble on the Straits.
Vicky Borne is tougher than her looks suggest. Five foot ten, athletic body and emerald green eyes make an effective distraction. At the time, I hardly knew her but she quickly changed that. Her bedroom interrogation technique was flawless. I told her everything about the map, how it led to abduction of my sister and her fiancé for ransom and the eventual demise of the Cuban drug lord. You might say he experienced a life-ending accident out on the Straits.
Unfortunately, on an unrelated case, the leader of a rival
Mexican cartel captured her with plans to feed his pet crocodile some fresh female parts. When her bosses at the DEA took a hands-off attitude, refusing to enter Mexico to find Vicky, Hawk and I did what any red-blooded Navy SEAL would do. We went rogue and rescued her from a cage in the middle of a lagoon on Cozumel before she became a reptilian lunch plate.
Vicky was pretty shaken up by the ordeal, so I cut the BS and gave her a thumbs up to the new request. No enhanced interrogation in the bedroom needed this time. We’d come too far to play games. Near death experiences and second chances will do that to a relationship.
“Of course, Vick. Anything for you. You look great. The Quantico rehab got you looking better than ever.”
Vicky blushed. “It’s more than vanity that drove me. You must know that.”
I gave her a stern look. I could see she was serious about going back to Mexico, despite the rape and torture she suffered. I took her hand and squeezed, “Guizarro’s still on my to-do list. Is that the favor?”
“You were always quick, Charley Manner.” She patted my butt. “That’s why I love you so much.”
“So, tell me about your vacation with the DEA FAST team.”
“Those boys play rough. Just what I needed. I placed second in hand-to-hand and first with a Glock 22 at the range.”
“And you want to apply your new skills in Cozumel.”
“You got it, Charley. Are you and Hawk available?”
“Hawk’s due for some R&R from his Coast Guard duty and you know me, I’m on permanent island time.”
Vicky raised her eyebrows and shook her head.
“Honest, Vick, I’ve tried to stay out of trouble. But I know this is important to you. What’s the plan?”
She looked around at my bar-mates’ stares and pulled me toward the door, “Let’s go to Hawk’s place and I’ll explain to both of you together.”
~~~
HAWK HANDY SLAMMED the barbells onto the dock and grabbed a towel when he spotted us approaching. His usual stone-cold stare was replaced with a broad grin. Vicky was like a little sister to him. He’d proven that he would put his life on the line to protect her when he dove after the croc that pulled her under in Guizarro’s lagoon on Cozumel.
Vicky teased, “Hey Hawk. Need some help with those weights?”
He wiped the sweat from his hands, grasped Vicky’s and pulled her toward him. Vicky used her momentum to spin him around, dipped low and catapulted him over her shoulder. He landed with a thud.
“Whoa, little sister. Where’d you learn that move?”
Vicky beamed. “Sorry, Hawk. Had to test what I learned at the Academy on a big bad SEAL. Guess I passed?”
Still stunned, Hawk nodded.
“Okay, children. Enough fun and games. Vicky’s got some payback to deliver. You’ve got time off coming, right Hawk?”
“I was planning to use it for a trip north. What’s up?”
Vicky said, “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Hawk wiped more sweat from his forehead, lifted an arm and smelled, “Why don’t you and CJ have a drink out here while I jump in the shower first?”
I looked at Vicky and motioned toward the pair of deck chairs under the palms. Hawk hustled into his pad while I searched the outdoor fridge for something cold.
Fifteen minutes later, Hawk stuck his head out the door. “Okay, mates. I’m a bit more presentable but forgive the housekeeping. Not my thing.”
We went inside and Vicky opened a folder and spread the contents on the table. “When I wasn't training or sharpening my shooting at Quantico, I used their criminal database to find out more about Guizarro's activities since my pleasant stay at his place on Cozumel.”
Hawk noted her choice of words, “Glad you've kept your sense of humor, Vicky. Starvation, torture, rape; not to mention almost being eaten by a twenty-foot crocodile. Enough to make anyone bitter.”
Vicky exhaled, sat back and looked at us, tears streaming down her cheeks. In a throaty whisper she said, “Don't mistake my tears for weakness, boys. Guizarro will pay. And you, my heroes, will help me.”
She took a deep breath, leaned forward and shuffled through the papers. “Here’s what our target has been up to.” She pointed to a grainy photograph. “That’s Guizarro boarding his yacht at Cozumel Marina.”
Hawk picked up the photo. “Awful blurry, Vicky. Who's your photographer?”
Vicky snatched it back. “You don't need to know. It was taken undercover, at night, a week ago.”
Hawk took a step back, duly chastened. “Sorry, Vick. I meant no disrespect.”
Vicky smiled and gave him a friendly pat on the head before continuing. “Guizarro has been spending much less time at his compound on the island. We don't know in detail what he's doing off Cozumel, but he hasn’t entered the States that we know about.”
“Is there still a five-million-dollar bounty on him?”
“Yes, Charley, but that's not what I want and you know it.”
“Just sayin, Vick, are you letting emotion cloud your judgement?”
Vicky laughed, “You, of all people, should understand.” She then looked at Hawk who shifted his stance and looked at me.
“CJ, I know you still have bad dreams about being thrown hogtied into the Mullah’s shit-hole in the Khyber. Give Vicky some slack, Bro.”
I gave Hawk a nod, took a deep breath and put my arm around Vicky. “Whatever you need, sweetheart. We’re on it.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I know that, Charley. That’s why I’m here. So, let me continue.”
Hawk added, “We’re good to go, darlin.”
“Okay, I’ve got eyes on Cozumel. Had to call in a favor to get it. Official position at DEA is still hands off Guizarro unless he enters the country. He’s too smart for that, so we have to go where he is and snatch him.”
Hawk whispered, “And arrange a fatal accident?”
Vicky looked up at both of us, her jaw set, and nodded. “My latest intel says he meets regularly on a tanker that spends a lot of time anchored in the Gulf. If we can’t get him on Cozumel, maybe we can do a snatch-and-grab on the water?”
“Where in the Gulf?”
“Actually, not in the Gulf. More like the beginning of the Florida Straits, about forty-five miles south of Key West, in Cuban waters.”
“A long way from Cozumel, but that would make our trip a lot shorter. Next time he leaves Cozumel, have your contact let us know and we’ll set up recon from here.”
“Okay. In the meantime, here’s what I think we should do. Do you have a chart of the area south of Key West?”
Hawk opened a cabinet, pulled out a nautical chart and spread it on the dinette table. I switched on the overhead light.
“See the discontinued dumping ground with a dashed circle around it?” She circled it with a red marker.
“Affirmative, but it’s in US waters.”
“That’s not where they anchor. Look here, just below to the right. Hawk, give me that yellow marker and I’ll highlight it.”
“You’re right on top of the border between the US and Cuba. And smack in the middle of the Gulf Stream.”
“You guys studied charts in the Navy, huh?” Vicky jabbed me in the ribs and smiled.
“So what’s special about the location, Vick? Pretty deep, nearly 700 fathoms.”
“That’s where the tanker is located. Actually, they tie onto a buoy. Water is too deep for anchoring a ship directly to the bottom. And there’s an oil platform nearby. A deep-water spar.”
“Glad to hear you know about deep-water anchoring, Vick. Do you know who owns the spar?”
“A Chinese oil company. The same one that partnered with the Castro regime to install the Scarabeo-9 rig twenty miles north of Havana. That rig is actually Italian-made and is operating in 5600 feet of water, more than 900 fathoms, so this new one is a no-brainer for them and a blatant attempt to drill just outside US territorial waters. The Chinese copied it and is leasing it to the
highest bidder. Drug smuggling generates a lot of cash so Guizarro won the lease contract.”
“How does an oil rig fit with Guizarro’s drug operation?”
“That is what the DEA would like to know.” Vicky gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turned white. “What I want is Guizarro’s head. I really don’t care what he’s doing on an oil rig.”
I massaged Vicky’s shoulders. “Easy, Vick. We’ll make sure Guizarro gets what he deserves.”
Vicky’s tense posture melted. She turned and looked at me. “I’m counting on it. I think we should check out the platform. Maybe that’s where we should start, at least until I hear Guizarro has left Cozumel.”
“Latest weather forecast says tomorrow will be clear with flat seas. I was planning a fishing day over Pourtalès Terrace, but the fish can wait. Let’s do it early, say 0400 departure?”
Hawk nodded and Vicky stood. “Then I’d better get to bed. First, I need to check with my contacts for an update on Guizarro’s movements.”
Before I could move, she planted a kiss on my cheek and slipped out the door.
Hawk jabbed my arm and kicked me in the butt. “CJ, what are you waiting for? Go after her.”
“Don’t worry, Hawk. She’s sleeping on the fold-out couch in the Winnebago.”
“I know it’s been a while, but you can’t be serious. That kiss was an invitation, squid.”
I thought about it for a few seconds and bolted out the door. “Vicky, wait up.”
She kept walking along the dock, so I sprinted to catch up. “What’s wrong? You show up with a kick-ass attitude and ask for a favor that could get us all killed. And then you about face without another word about the downside. What if someone gets caught?”
She stopped and turned. Opened her arms and smiled. “Now Charley, since when have you avoided trouble?”
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