“High stakes crime. This is what Vince was on to. What he died trying to stop. We need to give some payback.”
“Let’s revisit the spar. See if there are similar pods on that end.”
Vicky took Spirit’s collar. “Since we don’t do deep dives, Spirit and I will stake out this location.”
“Okay but be careful. Vince was top dog in surveillance duty in Iraq. That didn’t keep him from getting caught and turned into fish bait.”
Vicky scanned the area one more time. “I want Guizarro, but I also want to stop this Chinese or Cuban terrorist operation. Nasty things are planned.”
I agreed, “Looks like a multinational scheme to do harm.”
~~~
NEAR MISS
GLOWING CRABS provided convenient lighting as we approached the spar from a hundred feet below the surface. Hawk left Triple H on autopilot, circling the spot where we submerged a mile away.
Hawk pointed at the bottom. “There’s the pile of drums. Weird crabs are crawling all over it.”
“Time to get a closer look. Hope we don’t get another visit from that monster croc.”
As we descended, my hope was dashed. I turned my high intensity lamp on some movement south of our position. Out of the darkness a flash of spiny teeth and green glint of a scaly hide reflected my light.
“We have company, Hawk.”
Before Hawk could react, the croc clamped onto the back of his hard suit. I turned my suit props to high speed and accelerated toward him.
“Hang on Hawk. I will try to jam a bang stick behind its eye socket.”
“Better hurry, Bro. Those teeth punctured my suit. Water is filling it up. Pressure building.”
I had to think quick. I deployed the harpoon tool, barely sticking it to the underside of the croc, but at least I was staying close to Hawk. All three of us were making a rapid descent. Not good, especially for Hawk.
Hawk yelled into his comms set, “Look, CJ, on the bottom where the pipeline enters the mud. Is that an entry point? That large hatch?”
I fed out line from the harpoon to separate from Hawk and the croc to get a closer look. “Looks like an access port. Air-locked to allow entry from this side.” I grabbed the hatch ring and spun it. It flew open. Good thing, no time to waste.
“Hurry, CJ. My suits not holding. Pressure is getting unbearable.”
I entered the lock and started cranking in line using the suit’s winch tool. Slowly, they came closer. I reached out with my bang-stick and poked the croc behind the left eye. He released Hawk and darted into the darkness. Hawk’s suit gushed air bubbles from the tooth holes. I hauled him into the lock and slammed the hatch before punching the purge button.
As the water level dropped and breathable air entered his suit, Hawk croaked, “That was too close, CJ. I hope we can find another way out.”
I looked around the unusually large lock. “Look over there. Isn’t that a pod like the one we found on Stock Island?” Before he could answer, there was a loud whoosh sound that came from the main tube adjacent to the pod.
“Let’s get out of these suits and into the pod, CJ. I’m not feeling so good from that crushing hug I got. I think she likes me, but she’s not my type.”
It took some effort to remove Hawk’s suit. The croc’s bite distorted the fittings. Finally, while maneuvering the pod into position for insertion into the pipeline, a second rumbling whoosh came from inside the tube. This time it travelled in the opposite direction, upward toward the oil rig spar.
Hawk gasped as he struggled for a breath. “Which way do you think we should go, CJ.”
“In your condition, we better see if this pipeline leads up to the building on Stock Island. Vicky and Spirit should be staking out the location, so we’ll have wheels to get you to a doc. Make sure there’s no internal damage.”
I flipped the switch that sent our capsule into the pipeline, headed for the mainland.
~~~
ABDUCTED
Ten minutes earlier …
VICKY AND SPIRIT sat outside the building on Stock Island, hoping to witness a delivery of drugs and perhaps an illegal alien transported in the capsule. “We can't just sit here while Charley and Hawk do all the work, Spirit. Let’s go inside for a closer look.”
Spirit chuffed agreement and took the lead, ears peaked, nose quivering to sense any trace of danger. They entered through a side door. The place was still empty, unchanged from the last visit.
Vicky pointed to a pile of crates stacked in one corner. “Let’s hide over there and wait.”
Spirit looked around, ears perked and growled.
“What is it? You hear something?”
A whooshing noise came from the tube sloping out of the floor.
“Something is coming in. Maybe a delivery?”
The two of them pressed back into the shadows near the crate pile as a transport capsule emerged from the opening. Car doors slammed outside the front of the building. Spirit became agitated, whining softly.
“We have no way out, Spirit. Better be silent and lay low.”
Spirit crouched in a prone position. Muscles tensed to pounce if they are discovered. Four heavily armed men entered through the front door. At the same time the transport capsule opened, revealing a stunned pair of shabby looking women. Their hands were cuffed to a ring in the cross bar between them.
One of the men motioned to the others. “Release them and load them into the van. Juan, put the cocaine bags in the hide hole. Quickly. Guizarro expects prompt delivery.”
Juan bumped the stack of crates as he moved toward the open capsule. The pile teetered for a second and toppled over. Spirit leaped from the shadow, clamped onto Juan, pinning him to the floor.
“Spirit, heel.” Vicky raised her Glock. Before she could fire, another goon jabbed a gun barrel against her back.
“I would not do that, Señora. The noise attracts attention. Call off your dog or he dies.”
Vicky snarled, “My dog is a female and she doesn’t like criminals.” Spirit released her bite as Vicky gently pulled on her harness.
“No matter.” He looked more closely at Vicky’s face. “I know you. You were Guizarro’s guest on Cozumel. I thought you were eaten by his pet crocodile.”
“Sadly for Guizarro, I am alive and I intend to rip his heart out.”
The man laughed, “I am sure that Señor Guizarro will be happy to see you again. To finish his fun with you before selling you to one of his wealthy Middle Eastern clients.”
“Is he here?”
“Of course not. But do not worry. You will soon see him.” He motioned toward the now empty capsule. “You and your bitch get in and make yourself comfortable.”
As she and Spirit entered the capsule, Spirit resisted, baring sharp teeth at their captors. A frightening sight, it distracted enough for Vicky to type a text message into her cell phone. She hit send just before it was snatched from her hand.
“You will not need that, Señora. Señor Guizarro will be very happy to see you again, without your phone, your gun or anything else on your body.” He grinned like an idiot.
The ride was brief, rapidly descending a steep slope before turning upward, rocketing to the loading platform on the oil rig.
~~~
THE CAPSULE FINALLY STOPPED after rising up a steep slope to the surface. I dragged Hawk out of the capsule. The warehouse was empty. I looked out the window. A van was pulling out of the parking lot.
“Need to get you to a hospital pronto, Hawk. You don’t look so good.”
I pulled out my cellphone to dial 911. A text message flashed on my phone. It was Vicky. Spirit and I captured. Sent down the tube to oil rig.
“Got a text from Vicky. It was sent just ten minutes ago. I hope you heal quickly, Hawk. Vicky and Spirit were captured right here and sent down the tube.”
Hawk held his side and took in a labored breath. “We heard something whoosh past when we were in the lock on the sea bottom, right?”
&nbs
p; “Yeah, it must have been them.”
“Skip the trip to the hospital, CJ. We need to get back out there. Besides, Triple H is still circling on autopilot. Gotta go get her. This pipeline is the quickest way to rescue the girls.”
Armed only with our SIG pistols and SOG knives, we reversed the pod and headed for the spar.
~~~
COUNTERATTACK
AMAZING TECHNOLOGY, the capsule accelerated toward the bottom then turned steeply upward. Only a minute from launch, the transport pod came to a stop. An automatic sequence continued as the hatch lifted. Pistols raised, we faced a surprised technician as he stared in disbelief at two armed frogmen springing at him. He fumbled for a radio on his belt.
“I wouldn’t do that, hombre.”
He raised his hands. A zip tie to a nearby pipe and a gag stuffed in his mouth took him out of the fight. A simple worker with no blood on his hands, we spared his life and headed for the loading dock.
“I’ll take point, Hawk.”
He nodded agreement, spit a mouthful of blood and winced. As we approached the dock level, two guards fired automatic weapons. Two pinpoint pistol shots, one from my weapon the other from Hawk’s dispatched the threat.
Hawk pointed out to the water, “We’re too late, Bro. Look south.”
I turned to see a high-speed launch craft disappear behind a rolling swell. “Vicky and Spirit must be on that boat. We’ve got to get to Triple H.”
Hawk spit another mouthful of blood and said, “Better do a quick recon of the other levels first, in case they’re locked up here.”
I grabbed his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Hawk, I know you are SEAL-tough but you don’t look so good.”
He shrugged off my grip. “No worries, CJ. I’m good to go. Vicky and Spirit need help. Let’s move.”
We searched the remaining two levels above us. No one on the next level but a small group of people huddled inside a cage on the top level. We remained concealed so the guard did not see us.
“Not much we can do for them. Time to swim.”
We made our way back down to the dock level and dove in. Hawk found a bearing that would intercept Triple H as she circled on autopilot a half mile away.
~~~
SLOW GOING against the current of the Gulf Stream, it would take nearly a half hour to reach Triple H. Hawk wasn’t swimming at his usual speed. Not a surprise. I hoped the bloody saliva he kept spitting didn’t attract sharks.
Hawk stopped, treading water while he checked range and bearing of the boat. “Triple H should be only a few hundred yards south of our position.”
I scissor-kicked myself upward at the top of a passing wave. I spotted her rising from a trough of a swell. “She’s dead ahead. Come on, Hawk. BUD/S was harder than this. You can make it.”
“Damn straight, CJ. Let’s head a few points southeast from the last bearing so we don’t miss Triple H as she circles around.”
Before we had gone ten yards, Hawk yelled, “CJ, something tugged my fin.”
He poked it above the water, but nearly half was bitten off. Then I saw it. A sharp snout lined with needle-like teeth came at us from below. I reached for the bang stick tied to my weight belt. Fight or flight? A SEAL doesn’t back down. I placed myself between Hawk and the croc.
“Double time to the boat, Hawk. I’ll distract this monster. Maybe I’ll get lucky and pop his eye out.”
“Can’t leave you, CJ.”
“Our best chance is for you to get on board and run this thing down. I’ll be ready to grab a gunwale rail.”
“Roger, CJ. Your call.”
I took a defensive posture and braced myself while Hawk swam for the boat. I glanced back to see how he was doing.
“WTF, Hawk. Watch out. There’s a shark headed right at you.”
Hawk’s blood must have attracted the shark. It was huge. Maybe twenty feet, judging from the distance between dorsal fin and tail. We are definitely fucked.
Wait, that shark looks familiar. It can’t be. No way. It looks like the same Great White that sunk my old boat at the Wall at Cay Sal Bank more than a year ago. The same shark that also had Cuban drug lord Jorge Campinera for lunch when my sister Katie nudged him overboard. If you read book 1, Trouble on The Straits, you will know what I’m talking about.
The monster croc was only a few yards from me. The shark swam past Hawk and charged at the croc. The two engaged, the croc’s knife-like claws scratching for a grip on the slippery hide of the Great White. Too late, the shark bit hard on the croc’s neck. Red blood flowed, obscuring a clear view as they rolled and tumbled downward out of site. My cue to make an exit, I swam top speed after Hawk toward the boat.
~~~
I REACHED Triple H before Hawk got on board and steered toward him. I shifted to neutral when he came alongside.
“Grab my hand, Hawk. I’ll pull you up.”
Hawk flopped on the deck like a dead fish, still spitting up blood.
“You don’t look good, Bro. We’ve got to go back. Get you to a doc. Besides, we don’t have enough fuel to continue south very far.”
“I hate to admit it, CJ, but I feel like shit. I’ll radio my Coast Guard buddies and ask them to locate Guizarro’s yacht. It’s a big enough target and no doubt heading south.”
~~~
GUIZARRO LEERED at Vicky, walked toward her and touched her cheek. Spirit growled, tugging at the leash that tied her to a cleat on the deck.
“You recovered well from your visit on Cozumel. Too bad I have no time to play with you again. I have more important business to do.”
Vicky fumed. “Like human trafficking, Guizarro. Not satisfied with smuggling drugs?”
“You are well informed. How did you like your ride in the capsule. Ingenious, yes?”
Vicky spit in his face.
He wiped it off and smirked. “No matter. Soon you will be a slave yourself.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, I am expecting your new owner in a few moments.”
“No one owns me, Guizarro.”
He looked at Spirit and back at Vicky. “If you want your dog to remain alive, you will cooperate.”
Guizarro motioned to one of his men. “Lock them in there and be careful to tie the dog on a short leash.”
The man grabbed Spirit’s harness, slipped a chain around her neck and a muzzle over her snout, then dragged her into the next room.
The mega-yacht slowed as the pilot shifted to neutral. A Cuban gunboat appeared off the starboard bow and sidled up to Guizarro’s yacht. Several pakul-hatted men scaled the cargo net draped over the side. They leaped onto the lower deck brandishing AK47s. Guizarro’s men did not move. Guizarro appeared at the railing of the upper deck.
“Rest easy muchachos. The Mullah is here to pick up some product.”
A small, agile man deftly climbed the net and proceeded to the stairs leading to the upper deck. It is Mullah Abdul Kareef, former torturer of Charley Manner deep in a cave in the Khyber Pass three years ago. Kareef was captured when Hawk and Spirit rescued Charley and sent to Guantanamo Cuba for rehabilitation. Released by the Obama administration, he returned to Afghanistan and his terrorist organization.
Guizarro led the Mullah into the main cabin. “Welcome, Señor Kareef. Please be seated. We have much to discuss.”
“Make it brief. I have more material to place on the bottom near your oil rig. You radioed about a special product that is available?”
Guizarro opened the door to the adjacent room and turned on a light. “May I present DEA Agent Vicky Borne and her ferocious dog.” He looked at Vicky. “You called her Spirit?”
Vicky remained silent. Spirit snarled.
The Mullah studied Vicky for a minute and said, “She is very pretty. Good fleshy body. High value slave for my Cuban partners.”
“And the dog?”
“I might be interested. It will make a good meal at the very least.”
Spirit leaped at the Mullah, but the chain held fast.
The Mulla
h jumped back and stared at Spirit’s flashing teeth, visible even with the muzzle. “Wait, I have seen this dog before. It cannot be. Her harness, it is military.” Where did she come from?”
“She belongs to a Navy SEAL.”
“That’s it. That is where I have seen her. She is the bitch that bit me when I was captured by Navy SEALs.”
“The SEAL’s name is Charley Manner. And this woman is involved with him I think.”
The Mullah smiled. “Perhaps they both will be more useful as bait before I sell the woman and eat the dog.”
Guizarro looked confused. “You know this Charley Manner?”
“Yes, he and his SEAL teammates captured me and sent me to Guantanamo. Before they did, Manner cut me badly. I almost died from the infection. Fortunately, the bleeding-heart liberals in the American government had the doctors cure me and eventually released me.”
Guizarro’s eyes brightened. “You can have them both for a million dollars.”
The Mullah frowned. “Señor Guizarro. You disappoint me. See the Cuban gunboat tied alongside your toy boat? I can request they sink you.”
Guizarro back-peddled. “No need to become aggressive. I was testing your limits. You are, after all, well equipped with arms and powerful friends. You can have the woman and the dog as a gift. I don’t want to see them again. Too much trouble for me.”
“A wise decision. I will take them with me to Cuba after delivering more material to the spar.” He motioned to his men to take them aboard the gunboat.
Guizarro cautioned, “Be careful, they are both dangerous, despite being females.”
Too late, one of Kareef’s men was too casual about guiding Vicky to the loading dock. Vicky landed a well-placed kick to his groin while Spirit slipped off the muzzle and sank her teeth into his leg. Three more men jumped on Vicky and Spirit, pinning them so a fourth man could hogtie them both.
Charley Manner series Box Set Page 21