Charley Manner series Box Set

by Michael Marnier

  My SEAL teammates caught the Mullah and delivered some payback with prejudice before sending him to the guards at Guantanamo. Unfortunately, the sneaky SOB feigned good behavior and sweet-talked himself into a release just two years later. Of course, he immediately went back to his terrorist ways. This time much closer to my new home.

  If you followed my stories and read Deep Strait, you know he showed up out on the Florida Straits, partnering with the Cubans to wreak havoc with dirty bombs smuggled into Key West through an offshore pipeline. With the help of Hawk, Spirit, and DEA agent, Vicky Borne, we stopped the maniac Mullah. I thought his plunge off the oil platform into shark-infested water would insure his final demise. I was wrong.

  Back like a bad penny. And now, eight hours after the first call, he called again with instructions, sharing his delight torturing Katie by playing back a recording for me on the phone. Katie is tough but the grunts and heavy breathing through clenched teeth told me the Mullah was playing hardball.

  It was clear he planned to extract revenge through my big sister before a final showdown with me. The second call ended with instructions to meet tomorrow afternoon on Key West. I’m supposed to get another call with the exact location at noon sharp. Kareef wants me to go to the Hog’s Breath Saloon to wait for the call.

  I called Hawk to let him know about the Mullah’s return. Hawk was stuck with Coast Guard Search & Rescue chopper duty but will keep eyes peeled for anything unusual as he sweeps the coast from Miami down to Key West.

  MORNING RUN

  I LOOKED DOWN at Spirit loping alongside as we made our morning run from Marathon Marina out Seven Mile Bridge toward Sunshine Key. She had grown very close to my sister and sensed there was a problem when she didn’t stop by three days ago. She could smell the change in my body chemistry from the stress and worry I had about Katie. Plus, she could hear Katie’s screams on the phone when the Mullah called. Intelligent dog, the Belgian-Malinois.

  Since moving to the Keys from Cape Cod almost four years ago, Katie usually checked in with me every few days. My PTSD was becoming just a bad memory now, but Katie wanted to be sure her little brother was okay. Just like she did when our dad was away on Army DIA missions and our dear mother passed away. I was only ten years old, but Katie still looks after me today. The phone call explained why she hadn’t shown up as usual. The Mullah was using Katie as a lure to meet face-to-face. No doubt, it was a trap. But there was no choice. I’d have to meet up and settle the score once and for all. The Mullah was deliberately vague about where, maintaining control. Location TBD via last minute calls from Kareef.

  After the first call, I asked Vicky Borne to use her DEA contacts in Miami to locate Katie’s cell phone. Hopefully, Kareef had not turned it off so the cell phone company could locate it. I’m still waiting for a reply. Maybe I can surprise Kareef by showing up unannounced, before the scheduled noon call.

  ~~~

  I RETURNED Charley’s look with my own and a soft woof as we ran across Seven Mile Bridge. Don’t worry, Charley, I’m on it. I think I smell Katie. The westerly breeze means she might be up ahead. We had been running for an hour now and should be returning once we reach the end of the bridge. Normal for our morning runs, and it was getting warm as the Florida sun strengthened. No worries, we trained for hot desert conditions in Afghanistan. I just pant a little harder to deal with the humidity. Our last tour together was a while ago and I just turned seven last month, put on a few pounds but I still got it. In my prime. No worries, we’ll find you Katie. And the Mullah is gonna pay big time. Next time I have his leg in my jaws, I will not release until he bleeds out completely. Bank on it, Mullah.

  ~~~

  MY CELL PHONE BUZZED, so I signaled Spirit to stop for a minute. I thought it might be the Mullah with more instructions, but it was Vicky.

  “Hey, Vick. Any news?”

  “That’s why I’m calling, Charley. My DEA contact just told me the calls you are receiving from the Mullah on Katie’s cell phone were placed from Sunshine Key RV Resort & Marina.”

  “What? So close. Spirit and I are just passing Little Duck Key only a few miles away. We’re at the west end of Seven Mile Bridge.”

  “Wait, Charley, I also learned that Kareef has joined ISIS, like many disgruntled Taliban commanders dissatisfied with the weaker jihad approach the Taliban has adopted. He takes direction from ISIS leader, al-Baghdadi. That means his reappearance here will likely mean more shenanigans besides kidnapping. So, don’t do anything crazy. You'll need backup”

  “I won’t, Vick, but the clock is ticking down and so far, Kareef is controlling the situation. I’ve got to jump on this. Spirit and I are going in. Do you have GPS coordinates?”

  Vicky didn’t answer right away. I could hear the clicking of computer keys. “Okay Charley. Texting them now.”

  I cut and paste the coordinates into Google Maps on my iPhone while Vicky stayed on the line. “We’re one mile from an RV park on the Google Satellite Map.”

  Sunshine Key RV park with red dot on Kareef’s RV.

  “Be careful, Charley. I’m sorry I can’t be with you right now. I’m stuck with a trial appearance here in Miami, but I will be there tomorrow.”

  “Spirit and I can handle it, Vick. Hawk is on Coast Guard chopper surveillance duty. Got to do it now. Not sure what the Mullah has in store for me when he leads me to the final rendezvous point. I prefer to surprise him first.”

  “Call me when you get to the RV park. The court is in recess for the next hour so I can talk.”

  ~~~

  I HEARD THE EXCITEMENT in Charley’s voice. Heard Vicky on the phone, too. Did I tell you my sense of hearing is second only to my sense of smell? It’s time to roll, right Charley?

  “Let’s double-time it, Spirit. Vicky sent us a location we need to check out, pronto. Only a few miles up ahead on Sunshine Key.”

  I let out a snort. Told ya, Dad. My nose knows. Let’s go bite a Mullah. Charley checked his phone one more time and took off on a fast run. No problem for me. I was born to run. I passed him to take my usual position on point and held my nose high, inhaling every odor, sorting through each, faster than a super-computer. Yep, there it is. Katie’s odor. I looked back at Charley and woofed with my tail high, showing I was on odor. That’s MWD-speak meaning I smelled the target. He nodded approval.

  “Braafy, Spirit. Stay on it. But don’t get too far ahead of me. Kareef may have booby-trapped the place.”

  I gave Charley another look and woofed gain. I guess Charley forgot about my bomb-sniffing training. No trap rigged with explosives will fool me. I’m on it.

  ABDUCTED

  Three days ago, on Key West…

  KATIE SAW the reflection in the Ocean Boutique window as she shopped her way along Duval Street in Key West. A dark-skinned man had stepped out of a white van that stopped briefly on the red brick walkway only a few hundred feet from where she stood. Another man emerged from the back of the van. Both headed straight for her. The driver of the van kept pace with the men as they closed in. Before she could react, they were on her. One man pulled a black bag over her head. Her hands and ankles were roughly grabbed as they lifted her up and threw her into the van before speeding off. She heard someone scream, perhaps another shopper, quickly fading as the van sped away. Maybe ten seconds passed. In broad daylight! What did the men want? One man lay on top of her while another bound her hands and feet. A gag was thrust into her mouth through the cloth bag still over her head, making it difficult to breath. Katie thought, Stay calm, don’t show fear. Charley will rescue me. He has before.

  Mullah Kareef snarled at Katie as she lay on the floor of the van, “Let’s see what your frogman brother will do this time. His meddling has interfered with my plans before. First, he survived torture in a cave in the Khyber, then he disabled the dirty bomb we planted in the Deep Strait. I should have slit his throat when I had the chance. I have more important business to do and do not want to risk another failure. Your brother and his dog will
be too busy trying to rescue you. No matter, you will all die soon.”

  The other men shouted agreement, “Allahu akbar.” Katie tried to breath, inhaling slowly through the fabric pressed to her face. She thought… So this is the bastard that tortured Charley in Afghanistan. She strained at the cords binding her. Too tight. I need to be patient.

  MULLAH’S REVENGE

  MULLAH KAREEF looked southwest through binoculars, from the side window of the motorhome, at the Ohio Bahia Honda Channel. The light green water of the shallows turned dark as he looked beyond the Overseas Highway bridge that crosses the channel. He scanned out to the emerald green water of the Deep Strait. His gaze narrowed to angry slits as he recalled his desperate dive from the deep-water oil platform out on the Straits of Florida. It was the only way to escape re-capture or worse by Charley Manner, Hawk, Vicky and Spirit.

  ~~~

  11 months ago, out on the Florida Straits…

  MULLAH KAREEF made a desperate lunge over the edge of the oil platform as the Belgian Malinois snapped at his neck, tearing his collar but missing flesh, inshallah. It was a long way down to the water, but he jumped feet-first to break the surface without injury. He held his breath until his lungs burned, nearly passing out as he sank deeper into the Strait. Clawing his way toward the surface, he finally burst into the air, gasping for oxygen. He looked around and could see the tower lights in the distance. I better head south and hope the Cubans find me before the sharks. If I survive, Charley manner and his friends will rue the day I return. Inshallah.

  ~~~

  THAT WAS NEARLY a year ago. If his Cuban friends had not seen him struggling in the current, he surely would have drowned or been eaten by sharks. And then there was the botched ambush of Charley and his SEAL teammates in Afghanistan four years ago. The infidels won the day and Kareef served two years in Guantanamo, waiting for the worm to turn. What is the expression? Revenge is a dish best served cold. Kareef returned his thoughts to the present and approached Katie as she struggled against her binds.

  “Do not fight, Miss Manner. The rawhide will only tighten more if your sweat moistens it.”

  Kareef yanked the bag off her head and stuffed the gag back in her mouth. Katie met his gaze with a defiant look. The Mullah raised his arm and slapped her, loosening the gag in her mouth. Katie did not flinch.

  Kareef sneered, “Just like your brother. He seemed to enjoy the torture I inflicted upon him. What a perverted man. Even throwing him into that hole filled with human waste did not kill him. But this time it will be different.”

  She spit out the gag, “My brother is a Navy SEAL. SEAL’s don’t quit. With Spirit, he will track you down.”

  “That is precisely what I want him to do. I have a little surprise for him that will be fatal. Too bad. Perhaps you will have a chance to watch him die.”

  “You are too confident, sir. Better if you release me now, before you are captured again. I am sure Charley will not let the politicians give you another comfy vacation in Gitmo this time.”

  “Not going to happen, woman.” Kareef turned away from Katie and spoke to one of his men who had just entered the room.

  “Excuse me, Mullah Kareef, our lookout has just called in with a report. It seems the Navy SEAL and his dog are headed this way. On foot.”

  Kareef looked surprised, “How does he know we are here? Too soon. The bombs are not ready. The meeting on Key West will not work until we have the radioactive waste delivered from Cuba. We must leave for Cuba immediately and retrieve the material. Is the boat fueled and ready?”

  “Yes sir, we are prepared, inshallah.”

  They lifted Katie, chair and all, and rushed to the dock where a fast boat was tied. Moments later, they were speeding south toward Havana. Kareef thought, Only after a radioactive cloud spreads across the region will al-Baghdadi be satisfied. First, we must eliminate Charley Manner and his dog.

  TOO LATE

  I SLOWED my pace as we approached the RV park on Sunshine Key. No sign of activity, unlike the filled-to-capacity park on Marathon Marina. In fact, based on the condition of the roof and windows of the old Winnebago, it looked abandoned. A good place to hide Katie. Charley caught up to me, scanning the perimeter, looking for threats. I stopped in the pathway leading down to the dock on the western edge of the park, lifted my nose high to find the strongest scent. The other came from the Winnebago. WTF, two different directions?

  Charley knelt in front of me, “What is it, Spirit. You lose Katie’s scent?”

  We circled the RV; I sniffed around the windows and door and could tell there was no one inside. A stronger odor was coming from the docks. I headed for it and looked south down the channel. I sniffed and chuffed when a new but familiar odor reached my nose. A Mullah odor.

  “You smell something, Spirit? Is it Katie or the Mullah?”

  I woofed yes to both and bird-dog-pointed to a speeding boat far down the channel, heading under the bridge out to deep water.

  Charley looked in the direction I pointed and spotted the wake of the fast boat, “Is that them? Damn, we just missed them. I better call Vicky to get eyes on it if she can. I’ll call Hawk, too. Maybe he can spot them from the air, or a CG cutter will see them heading south. Kareef has friends in Havana, I’ll bet they’re going to Cuba.”

  Vicky picked up on the first ring. “Charley, what did you find?”

  “We just missed them, Vick. Can you get some SAT time and scan the Straits south of Sunshine Key toward Cuba? I think Katie is on a fast boat that left right before Spirit and I arrived here.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Charley. Let me get on it right away. Talk later.”

  ~~~

  AS I WALKED back to the front of the Winnebago, I speed dialed Hawk. It patched through to a radio link. From the noisy background I could tell he was still in the air. “Hey, Bro. I need help, pronto. Spirit and I have tracked the Mullah and Katie to Sunshine Key but just missed them. I could be wrong, but they might be on a fast boat heading south from Sunshine Key. They left only ten minutes ago. Are you in the vicinity?”

  “Sorry, Charley. We are patrolling the coastline near Key Largo but are heading your way. It will be at least twenty minutes before we reach Sunshine Key. I’ll radio a cutter. Maybe they will spot them before they reach International waters.”

  “Better hurry. The boat looked like a Cigarette, moving fast. They’ll be in Cuba in just a few hours unless we can stop them.”

  “Roger that, Charley. I’ll meet you at my place when I’m off duty in one hour. We need to plan how we infiltrate if we’re going back to Cuba. Maybe underwater for the last mile like last time.”

  “Okay, Hawk. Spirit and I are on our way.”

  “Roger that, CJ. Over and out.”

  I looked at Spirit, “Before leaving, maybe we should take a quick look inside the Winnebago, okay Spirit?”

  Spirit lifted her nose and headed for the side door. She didn't show concern, so it must be empty. No IEDs either. Otherwise Spirit would be signaling with her tail high and straight. I tried the door handle. It was locked. I was about to put my shoulder to it and brute force our way in when Spirit lifted the door mat with her nose, exposing a key. “Of course, why didn't I think of that.” Spirit woofed and grinned. “Don't be a smart aleck, girl.”

  The place was a mess but had the usual permanent furnishings of a motor home. Not as nice as my Chieftain. Spirit ran to the back bedroom and scratched on the sliding door that was closed. Inside we found what looked like bomb-making tools. Bingo. The Mullah has more plans to wreak havoc. We'll make sure that does not happen. First, we need to find Katie.

  ~~~

  CHARLEY AND SPIRIT sprinted back to Marathon Marina and went straight to Hawk’s place. The ten-mile distance took nearly 45 minutes. Long runs were SOP for the former SEAL and his war dog. That was when Charley usually did some deep thinking. This time, his thoughts returned to his last op in Afghanistan. He still had occasional nightmares about his “spa” visit in that hell
hole in the Khyber Pass, but they were less frequent now as his life moved to better times. Starting with his recovery at base camp and then in the States at Bethesda Naval Hospital before mustering out of the Navy back at SEAL HQ in Coronado. The PTSD was real. He didn’t believe it at first but eventually accepted it. His sister Katie was a big help. She put her life on hold and moved from Cape Cod to the Keys to be closer to Charley. Then Hawk surprised him with Spirit in tow a year later when Hawk retired from active duty. It was a major turning point for Charley. Life seemed to improve.

  During her first week in Florida, Katie met Horatio Hildebrand, local Brit and master sailor, fell in love and got married. The wedded bliss didn’t last, unfortunately. Trouble on the Straits included a strafing hit on Charley, family and friends while they were having lunch at the Hurricane Hole on Stock Island. A bullet lodged in Hilly’s head. A brief coma followed by death ended Katie’s marriage and led to an encounter with the Cuban drug lord responsible for it. Charley grimaced at the memory as he and Spirit reached the eastern end of Seven Mile Bridge. Then he smiled at the memory of drug lord, Jorge Campinera, falling off the boat into the jaws of a Great White shark. Fitting justice for the thug. It didn’t bring back Hilly, but Katie is strong and dealt with it like the military brat she was. Suck it up and get even. Payback is an effective ointment when applied without remorse.

  Charley focused back to the present, as they arrived at Marathon Marina. A Coast Guard chopper was landing in Hawk’s back yard. Hawk emerged and waved as the MH 60T Jayhawk lifted off in a swirl of dust.