A Fortune in Blood: A Florida Action Adventure Novel (Scott Jarvis Private Investigator Book 7)

by Scott Cook

  “Better than that,” I replied, sitting at the table. “He says that tomorrow, or maybe the next day, he’s putting a crew on board and everybody’s going for a cruise on this baby.”

  The girl’s eyes lit up and Missy grinned. Then, as if they were all wired together, the three Delaney girls’ faces fell in perfect unison. I knew what was bothering them and I reached my hands out and we all linked them together.

  “By tomorrow this time,” I said with a conviction I truly felt, “Dad and Dec will be back with you.”

  “Promise?” Shelby asked with hope in her eyes.

  “I promise,” I said. That was a big deal for me. I didn’t like to make promises I wasn’t sure I could keep, because I always keep my promises. Yet making this declaration filled me with a powerful resolve.

  Missy smiled at me, “You sound like you mean it.”

  “I don’t make promises lightly,” I said.

  “I know,” She said softly.

  “There’s one more thing,” I said, looking directly at Clay’s wife. “You are not coming.”

  “Dammit, Scott—“

  “You are not coming!” I said in a tone of command. “That’s not open to negotiation, Missy. These girls need you and I’ll be damned if I willingly put you in danger again.”

  “We’re talking about my husband and son!” Missy exclaimed stubbornly.

  “Okay, fine,” I feigned acquiescence, “That’s true. So the girls here are coming, too.”

  That seemed to bring her by the lee, “What? They aren’t—“

  “It’s their dad and brother,” I stated.

  “That’s different,” Missy protested a bit weakly.

  “Why? Because they don’t have combat experience… like you?”

  Missy sighed, “I can shoot.”

  I softened my voice, “Believe me, I know. And maybe if it weren’t this situation, I’d have you come. I know you’re brave and strong and all that, Missy… but the idea of putting you near Garcia again… the fewer people we have the better.”

  Missy seemed to relent. She heaved a sigh, “I guess you’re right… I guess infiltrating a rebel base and rescuing hostages is man’s work, huh?”

  I laughed, “Right. So that means we need you ladies back here at the fort cooking and cleaning and knitting and what not.”

  I pushed my chair back and was halfway out of it to run when Missy pounced. She slammed into my chest, knocking me sideways and onto the deck. I was flat on my back and she was straddling me, her two hands playfully squeezing my throat.

  “I’ll give you woman’s work!” She said with a laugh and then started tickling me.

  The girls were laughing and ran over to pile on. I had six hands probing and thirty fingers wriggling. I yelled and laughed and writhed as the three of them shrieked with laughter.

  “Hey what the…” Lisa’s voice said from behind me, “Oh, I take it you told her?”

  “Arrrggghhhh! Somebody… help!” I implored, gasping and laughing.

  Lisa clucked, “This is what you get.”

  “Me?” I managed to wheeze, “You’re the one who said you didn’t think Missy should come… said… said she was just a weak little girl…”

  “I did n—“ Lisa tried to protest.

  Suddenly the three women were off me and had dragged Lisa down. She was now shrieking and gasping under their tickle torture.

  “Ha!” I exclaimed as I got out of range, “that’ll learn ya’ to lip off!”

  Then I ran.

  At some point during one of my many absences, Missy or Umberto had managed to bring the Honda Odyssey minivan that belonged to the Delanye’s’ host family over to Juan’s farm. That was fortunate, because not only did I have Lisa and Umberto along with three AR’s and ammo, we also had a pair of prisoners to take with us, too.

  I never meant for any of this to happen…” Miles protested weakly as we piled into the van. “I just wanted to build my city.”

  “Jesus…” Andrea sighed as she got in the front passenger seat beside me.

  Lisa sniffed with disdain. Miles glanced at her, “Lisa… I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you in all of this.”

  Lisa stared at him for a long moment, “You know something, Miles? When I first met you, as your employee, I thought you were nice. I thought you were a down to earth guy who’d really made something of himself in a unique way. I guess I was blinded to the real you. So just save it, huh…?”

  She trailed off and cast a quick glance in my direction. I pretended not to notice and took a great deal of interest in examining my rifle.

  I started the engine and Missy appeared at my window, “Be careful.”

  I grinned reassuringly, “Naturally.”

  “I mean it,” She said. “It’s bad enough that I have to sit here and wait… I could never forgive myself if…”

  “Hey,” I said softly, “I made you a promise. I intend to keep it.”

  Missy closed her eyes and sighed. Then in a small voice said, “Thank you.”

  I squeezed her hand, “I’ll keep in touch. Your family will be whole before supper tomorrow, kid. Take that to the bank.”

  “Don’t go writin’ checks your body can’t cash, Maverick.”

  I laughed, “Haven’t yet.”

  Chapter 29

  Limon is the largest port city on the Caribbean side of Costa Rica. Not only does it offer several marinas, there’s also a substantial commercial port facility as well. It was here that we found the Robert Ballard.

  The ship was a state-of-the-art salvage and research vessel featuring the latest in navigation, sonar and communications technology. She was just over a hundred and fifty feet long and a little more than thirty feet in beam. The vessel consisted of three decks that included plush living spaces, an oceanographic and marine biology lab and a large open after deck for recovery operations.

  Among her innovations were the twin Azipod drives that could be turned in three hundred and sixty degree arcs and could drive the vessel at over thirty knots. Additionally, her draft was about four feet, quite shallow for a ship that size. This made her a great research platform even in shallow near shore waters.

  On top of that, the Ballard had an ocean access docking bay made for an equally impressive mini sub named Rodney Fox. Two doors opened downward from the ship’s bottom and a specially designed hoist locked onto the submersible and guided it into and out of her watertight hangar.

  The ship’s lowest deck, the deck that housed the submersible, also featured crew’s quarters, the engineering spaces and four large staterooms aft. The main deck, in addition to the labs, also featured the main saloon, galley and owner’s suites. The top deck housed the bridge, dining saloon, sky lounge and a large open-air lounging deck aft. There was additional lounging on the foredeck as well. I always thought it resembled Jacque Cousteau’s old Calypso at least in general shape. There was even a sort of high tower above the bridge for observations, I supposed.

  I was grateful that the port was designed in such a way that vehicles could drive right up and park alongside the commercial docks. If we’d had to walk far, it would’ve given Palmer a perfect opportunity to run or at least call out and draw unwanted attention to us.

  I turned off the ignition and turned to glare at Palmer, “You might be thinking of doing something stupid, Miles… don’t. You’re covered and you see those two men on the after deck over there? Either one of them will put a bullet in you if you try to run.”

  “You don’t know who you’re screwing with, Jarvis,” Palmer said in a tone as brittle as old parchment. “When this is all over…”

  “Palmer,” I said coldly. “I have enough evidence to cause you a great deal of trouble. So don’t scare me with your riches and you’re corporate lawyers. Unless you mean you want to throw hands with me… in that case, why wait?”

  Andrea snickered, “He’s not the only one with lawyers at his disposal. If Scott doesn’t use this evidence, Miles… I will. So why don’t you st
op beating your chest and just cooperate.”

  “Yeah,” Lisa chimed in. “If nothing else, Miles… you owe it to Clay.”

  That seemed to clap a stopper over Palmer’s attitude for the moment. We got out and marched up the gangplank and were met by Santino and Jack Brody.

  Introductions were made and Santino took Lisa’s hands in his.

  “It’s a great pleasure to see you again, Lisa,” he charmed.

  “You too, Gregorio,” Lisa said with a blush. The guy sure had a way with the ladies.

  “Welcome back, sailor,” Jack Brody said to me, clasping my hand and shaking it firmly. He leaned in close. “Christ… that’s your ex-girlfriend? Wow… and the blonde? Holy shit, man! You sure do find the quality women!”

  Brody looked exactly the same, black skin-tight T-shirt over his muscular upper torso and blue jeans.

  “I’m very charming,” I said with a wry grin. ““How the hell are you, Jack?”

  He and I hadn’t started out friendly. Yet as we’d spent more time together looking for and then diving on a German U-boat that had been sunk a few hundred miles off Florida, I’d come to respect his professionalism and his love for what he did. I even got to like him, salty dog that he was.

  Brody was a military wreck salvager, primarily. Although this created a lot of controversy, he had done some amazing things and made some astounding discoveries. Many of his most famous artifacts graced museums all over the world and came from military and maritime wrecks alike. Some of his accomplishments included diving on Titanic, the Japanese battleship Yamato and most recently, the discovery of an intact and almost pristine Roman merchant vessel at the bottom of the Black Sea.

  The ship was almost perfectly preserved by the freezing fresh water below the upper salt layer and total darkness. There had been hundreds of watertight amphora… ceramic pots used for storage and transport… some even still had wine in them.

  “Still grave robbin’,” Brody said. “Least that’s what my detractors call it.”

  “What the hell are you doing over here?” I asked in bewilderment.

  He smiled, “Helping you, Conklin and Santino, of course. I’ve got a lead on a Spanish American War era ship not far away, so Jibreel and I figured we could kill two birds with one stone, as it were. Hell, maybe three. Got us a new biologist…”

  I don’t know what crossed my face, but his good natured grin fell, “Jesus, Scott… I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to… you know we all miss her, too.”

  “I know,” I said and sighed.

  “Well, we’re ready to get underway whenever you are,” Jack stated.

  “Then let’s shove off,” I said. “This will be a whole lot easier once our… guests… don’t have the option to jump ship.”

  We went inside and Jack gave the newcomers a quick tour of the ship. He suggested that for now, they stay in their cabins or on the main deck.

  “How long are you going to keep us prisoner?” Miles asked.

  “Until Clay and Declan are safe,” I told him, “and until I know that once they are, that Clay’s family will not be persecuted by Garcia or anyone else.”

  “And that’s where you come in, Palmer,” Santino told him in a tone of voice that sent a little shiver down my spine. The implied threat was clear. “You’re the insurance policy. Because Clay is a friend of mine too… and should he or his family ever be bothered again once this is over… it’s you who I will hold personally responsible. Capice?”

  That produced a very gratifying look of pale unease from Palmer. It also produced a sultry smile from Andrea.

  “The one missing puzzle piece is the location of this Garcia’s camp, right?” Lisa asked as she, Jack, Santino and I headed for the bridge.

  “We’ve got that covered,” Santino said.

  We entered the dining saloon and I wasn’t surprised to see Charles Conklin sitting at the eight person dining table examining what looked like a large photographic blow up. I was very surprised, though, to see another face I recognized.

  “Juan…” I muttered.

  “Hola, hermano,” Juan Fuente greeted me with a huge shit-eating grin on his handsome Cuban face.

  “What the hell…?” I asked intelligently.

  “Señor Santino came to me and told me you might need some help,” Juan explained. “I was able to take some lost time and accompany him.”

  “Why?” I asked Santino.

  “Aside from the fact that he served in the Cuban Army,” My friend replied. “He’s young, strong and speaks fluent Spanish.”

  “Holy Christ… what did Sharon say about this?” I had to ask.

  Juan snorted, “She was… not pleased. When she found out I was coming, she was a bit unhappy… but when I told her why and who I was going to help, she all but exploded.”

  Lisa laughed, “Yeah, I’ll bet! I’ll bet Wayne isn’t happy that he’s been left out of this op either. Hi, I’m Lisa.”

  Juan and Lisa shook hands and he smiled broadly, “Esta Cubana?”

  “Yeah… but I was born in Miami,” Lisa said. “My mom came over during the Mariel boat lift as a girl.”

  “So what’ve you got there, Charles,” I asked, going to peer over his shoulder.

  “A target,” Charles said. “Good to see you, too.”

  I grinned and examined the eleven by seventeen photo blow up.

  “Compliments of British intelligence,” Santino added as everyone gathered around.

  I raised an eyebrow at that but satisfied myself with studying the photo. It could’ve been a Google Earth shot but for the detail and clarity. It showed what looked to be a decent sized army camp in the hills not far from a river. Two small boats were tied to a dock on the bank. The camp itself featured several lines of tents, what looked to be a more permanent structure as well as a variety of vehicles.

  “This satellite photo was taken just a few hours ago,” Santino said. “Your guess was right, Scott. It’s the San Juan River in Nicaragua, about thirty miles inland.”

  ‘I’ll be damned…” I said softly. “McClay?”

  “He’s on the bridge,” Brody said. “Which is where I’m headed.”

  Joe McClay sat in his customary place at the captain’s position on the bridge. I was surprised to find that he was still the captain of the Ballard. Brody sat down next to McClay and Jibreel Al-Rajid was stretched out on the sofa placed along the starboard bulkhead.

  “Welcome back, Scott,” Al-Rajid said in his rich deep Middle Eastern accent.

  “Thank you, Jibreel,” I said. “I have to say thank you for volunteering to help me with this mission. It means a lot.”

  ‘It’s our pleasure,” Jibreel stated, “and it’s not as unlikely a circumstance as you might believe.”

  “You didn’t expect to find me here, I’ll wager,” McClay said in his undisguised natural London accent. “Figured I’d slunk off into the mists, eh?”

  I shook my head and chuckled, “I’m never gonna get used to that accent, Joe. But yeah… what the hell are you doing here? Figured once your cover was blown, MI6 would have moved you to another assignment.”

  “It was decided that my presence aboard this vessel could be a good opportunity,” He said somewhat cryptically.

  “And we’re glad to have both an experienced captain and a man who has access to information we might not otherwise,” Jibreel said.

  “The British government has actually asked us to act on their behalf from time to time,” Brody explained, spinning around in his captain’s chair. “Not on a full-time basis, but more on a case by case thing. A sort of… Q ship. You know what that is?”

  “Oh, I expect that he does,” McClay said with a wink.

  I nodded, “yes. Intelligence gathering vessels disguised as merchantmen or other non-combatants.”

  “You wouldn’t want a position on board with us, would you, Scott?” Jibreel asked with a smile. “We could sure use a man like you.”

  “Thank you, Jibreel,” I said with a wry grin, “bu
t I prefer the quiet and reserved life of a private eye.”

  Brody guffawed, “Bullshit! I just finished reading your last book, the one about the pop star. Christ on a soda cracker, son… you do seem to have a knack for finding the shit storm.”

  “I takes what comes.”

  “Now you’re involved in another one,” McClay put in, “and about to get us into a potential international incident. Nicaraguan rebels and a highly illegal armed intrusion into sovereign territory.”

  “Geez, Joe,” I quipped. “When you say it, it sounds mildly improper. You’re not gonna tattle to the Queen are ya’?”

  McClay threw back his head and roared, “Who do you think authorized this? Speaking of that, how do you want to proceed?”

  I sat at the engineer’s station, “Well, if you stand off and on in international waters, backing and filling all night—“

  McClay and Brody laughed.

  “—then it’s about forty-two or more miles to that base in the mini,” I said. “As I recall, you can get ten hours at seven knots out of her. That’s a problem in terms of time and distance. At least if we’re going to do all this under the cover of darkness… which we are.”

  “I’ve done some tweaking,” Brody said. “A little improvement gives the Fox a range of one hundred miles at eight knots.”

  I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, “That’s great… but it still means a five plus hour run one way. How long until we reach the mouth of the San Juan, Joe?”

  “Once we cast off… it’s perhaps three hours or thereabouts until we come parallel with the largest of the three inlets into the river.”

  ‘That’s about forty-two miles in the mini…” I said thoughtfully. “Even at eight knots…”

  “Five hours or more is a long time to be cramped up in that sub,” Jibreel offered. “Not very restful.”

  I nodded in agreement, “Right. I’d prefer to hit them by no later than three bells in the morning watch, for sure.”

  “That’s five-thirty,” Brody told Jibreel with a lopsided grin.

  “You sailors,” The Arab chuckled.

  “But I’d also like to let everybody get rested and come up with some kind of a plan, too,” I continued. “Which means the longer we can stay aboard, the better.”