"She said Russo's a long-time friend of Espinosa's."
"Wild card," Cruz grunted. "See what you can find out about him."
"Yeah, okay. No problem. Anything else?"
"Yeah. Behave yourself with those people. You need to get invited back, remember."
"I got it, Manny."
"Good. You got anything else?"
"Not really, but she did mention hearing about Lupita on the news this morning."
Cruz felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Say what?"
"I said, 'She -- '"
"I got that, Ortiz, but why the fuck did she even mention that?"
"Uh ... um ... "
"Ortiz? Does she know you and Lupita knew one another?"
"Sorta ... "
"What the fuck does 'sorta' mean, Ortiz?"
"Remember when I picked Berger up in the club a couple nights ago?"
"Yeah. What's that got to do with Lupita?"
"I was supposed to be setting Berger up for Lupita to snatch her that evening, and -- "
"You were what? Where the fuck did you get that idea from?"
"Lupita. She told me to invite Berger out to dinner, and on the way, Lupita was going to kidnap her."
"Lupita said that?" Cruz asked.
"That's right," Ortiz said. "And then she called and interrupted me and Berger just as I was asking her out to dinner. She told me to ditch Berger for the evening and meet her on the beach."
"And did you?"
"Yeah, sure. You told me Lupita was running things, so yeah. That's what I did."
"You met Lupita on the beach, and then what?"
"I gave her some shit for interrupting me and Berger like that. Lupita was screaming at me over the phone, and Berger heard her. Lupita thought it was okay, because she was speaking Spanish. She didn't know Berger's fluent."
"So what did Lupita want with you?"
"She told me the plans changed. There wasn't going to be a snatch, and I was supposed to make Berger fall in love with me and get inside the compound."
"She told you that on the beach, right? Not where Berger could hear?"
"That's right."
"So Berger heard Lupita's name from the phone call?"
"Yeah. I knew she did. I bitched about it to Lupita, and Lupita said to tell her she was, um ... a ... a distant cousin, or something, and she was calling about some kind of family emergency. Like, she needed to borrow some money from me, or something."
"Why the hell did she make up a story like that, Ortiz?"
"I don't know. I mean, we knew I was going to have to tell Berger something to explain why I ran out on her that night, right?"
"Yeah, okay. So Berger thinks Lupita's your cousin, or something?"
"Distant cousin. That's why she mentioned hearing about her on the news, I guess."
"She say any more about Lupita? Ask any questions?"
"Just asked if I knew about the attack."
"And what did you tell her?"
"Played dumb. She caught me off guard with that; I didn't know it made the news."
"Me either. She buy it?"
"My act, you mean?"
"Yeah. What did you say?"
"That I hadn't heard, and Lupita was kind of like the black sheep, that I had as little to do with her as possible. I said I wasn't surprised, that Lupita ran with a pretty rough crowd."
"Okay. Well, stick to that story, if it comes up again."
"Yeah, I will. I don't think she'll mention it again. She's kind of distracted, you know?"
"Distracted?"
"Yeah. She said she was feeling swept off her feet." Ortiz chuckled. "That's what you're paying me for, remember? To sweep her off her feet."
"Right. Well, keep it up. With Lupita gone, we really need you in there."
"No problem. I'll call you after lunch, okay? It might be pretty late this afternoon."
"Yeah. Fine," Cruz said. "Oh, Ortiz?"
"Yeah?"
"You think of anything else about that Martínez character? I'm still trying to figure out who jumped Lupita."
"No. But I didn't forget. I'll let you know if anything comes to me."
****
Chapter 13
"Any progress on getting your man into the compound?" Maldonado asked.
Cruz worked his right index finger in between his collar and his neck. Under Maldonado's scrutiny, his shirt seemed too tight. "He's going to lunch there today, Willy."
"It's about damn time," Maldonado said. "I don't know what his problem is. Martínez comes and goes like he owns the place."
"Yeah, well, Ortiz has a different agenda, Willy. We both know that."
"Yeah, yeah. I want to know who's there besides Davis and the Bergers. You understand that? Does Ortiz?"
"Yes, we do. We already know that -- "
"Save it," Maldonado said. "Put it in your report after Ortiz gets inside."
"As you wish, Willy. But -- "
"I wish to know who's there and what their connection to J.-P. Berger is. And make sure Lupita gets some pictures of them all. She can take a kayak and paddle right up to their seawall."
"Actually, there's a problem with that," Cruz said.
"What problem? Just cut her loose from whatever she's doing. This might get hot without much warning. We need to be able to show Ortiz in frequent contact with Berger and his people."
"Lupita's out of action, Willy. Somebody jumped her last night and -- "
"Jumped her? Lupita? You're shittin' me."
"No. Beat her to the point where she can't get around. She's gonna need a lot of physical therapy, word is. She's in the hospital."
"Shit! Who?"
"We don't know. Some Cuban woman, Lupita said."
"What did you have her doing?"
"Working for Santos, mostly. She was keeping the Haitians in line, until she started running this thing with Ortiz."
"She piss somebody off?"
"Not that we know of."
"She conscious?"
"Yeah."
"What did she say happened?"
Cruz related what Lupita had told Santos, leaving out the fact that Lupita's assailant had mentioned Ortiz.
"Cops?" Maldonado asked. "They involved?"
"Yeah. The building security people saw the attack on closed circuit video and called them."
"Shit, Cruz. How much does she know?"
"The rough outline."
"Give it to me, what she knows."
"Alpha-66 and some of the other groups are planning an invasion. We're looking to buy weapons from J.-P. Berger. I had to tell her that much to make sure she knew why we wanted Berger's daughter in our control."
"She know about Martínez?"
Cruz swallowed hard, his mind racing through his options.
"I didn't tell her, Willy, but she's sharp, and she's been watching the place on Star Island. She's probably seen him around there."
"How long's she going to be in the hospital?"
"Several more days, at least."
"Is she doped up?"
"Yeah, they're keeping her drugged for the pain. Santos said she's half out of her head; doesn't know what's happening."
"So you're running this Ortiz kid yourself?"
"Yeah. It's the only choice I have."
"He know about Martínez?"
"I don't see how he could. He's nowhere near as sharp as Lupita."
"But you do think she knows about him? Tell me why you think that, Manny."
"She spotted him the first time he went to Star Island; asked about him by name. Him and Davis both. I think she overheard them, maybe with that parabolic microphone thing."
"What did you tell her?"
"Nothing, Willy. I just blew it off, you know."
"Good. Keep me posted on Ortiz's progress."
"You want me to do anything about Lupita?"
"Nah. Just get her back on her feet. We need her."
"Should I be looking for somebody to take her place
?"
"No. Too risky to bring in somebody new at this stage. Why? You got somebody in mind?"
"No, but Santos needs to hire another collector."
"That's your business, Manny. Do what you need to do; the real estate business is part of your cover, but keep it separate, you understand? We made an exception for Lupita, and now I wish we hadn't."
"Okay, Willy. No problem."
"Good. Get back to work."
****
"Good morning, Rick," Phillip said. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"Not at all," Olsen responded. "The connection's way better on these things than the old encrypted phones."
"Yes. You sound like you're in the room with me."
"Good. What's on your mind this morning? Any news from Martínez?"
"Yes." Phillip recounted his earlier conversation.
"How does that strike you?" Olsen asked.
"A little on the loose side, frankly, but I've never dealt with him before."
"Yeah, I agree with that. I don't like flying blind on this. You still don't have a way to contact him?"
"Correct. I did a little fishing on whether he lost his inside track when my original contact was killed. I didn't get anything conclusive, though."
"I hear a 'but' in your tone."
"Yeah. He may be behind the killing. Or some of his backers may be. He certainly wasn't surprised by it. Any more news on that?"
"Not really. They still don't have a murder weapon."
"They probably won't find one, then. Unless he left the weapon behind for some reason, a pro would have gotten rid of it where it won't be found."
"Yeah. That's what they figure. You think Martínez is capable of that kind of thing?"
"Yes. No doubt on that score."
"Ordering it? Or doing it?"
"Either one. Why?"
"I don't know. The Director asked, but he didn't share his thoughts."
"Do we have any resources to call on, Rick?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"I'd like to know more about Martínez; where he is when he's not digging in the flower beds, for a start."
"You want somebody to tail him?"
"It crossed my mind. What do you think?"
"He's a seasoned agent. It wouldn't be easy, and it might spook him."
"That's one possibility," Phillip said.
"You've got another one in mind. What?"
"If I were in his position, I'd expect it. The absence of an effort to follow me would make me think I wasn't being taken seriously."
"That's a point. Give me a little time on that one. I'll get back to you."
"Okay."
"On a similar subject, we got the details on the license plate from the car that he sent for you."
"It took long enough. I was about to get one of my MPD friends to run it."
"A word of caution on that, Phillip. I know your friend Russo's there with you, and he's trustworthy. But beware of the MPD."
"That's why I held back."
"Okay, good. Anyway, the plate was stolen. It belongs to a local lawyer; no reason to think he's connected to this, but his car's the same model as the one you were in. Color and everything matches."
"That's worrisome."
"Yes, I agree. Martínez, or whoever's behind him, put some effort into the details. Not only that, but we found the car in long term parking at the Miami airport, and guess what?"
"What?"
"The plates had been returned. Whoever did it just borrowed them."
"Security cameras in the parking lot?" Phillip asked.
"Yes, but they didn't catch anything. The angle wasn't right."
"This is pretty thorough, for a bunch of geriatric exiles."
"Well, yes. There's a new generation playing the game, and not all of them are saints."
"What are you hinting at, Rick? A criminal element?"
"Yes. That level of sophistication is beyond what I'd expect from the old exile operations."
"I see your point. That's another good reason to find out a little more about Martínez."
"Right. I'll see what I can do. I need to run his requirements list up the flagpole and see what the response is, too. I'll let you know."
"It'll be interesting to see the timing between your answer and Martínez's next contact."
"Yes, won't it? Take care, Phillip, and call if you think of anything else."
****
"This is beautiful, Dani. I had no idea." Ortiz ran a fingertip over the high-gloss varnish that coated the chart table. "This is like glass; I can see my reflection."
"Thanks. It takes a lot of work to keep the bright work up like that, but it's more or less expected by our clients."
"I've never seen inside a yacht like this. It's like ... I don't know ... like being inside a piece of antique furniture, or something."
"Have you sailed, David?"
"No, not really. Just little boats, like at resorts. You know, the kind of boats they have on the beach?"
"Yes. Well, the principles are the same, but the experience is a bit different."
"I'd love to try it sometime."
"We can arrange that. We'll have to pick a day when Liz and I won't be missed, though."
"I'm surprised that two people can sail a boat like this; it seems so big."
"She can be a handful, especially if the wind pipes up. But it's what we do."
"When did you learn to sail, Dani?"
She chuckled. "I don't remember; I grew up around boats. Some of my earliest memories are of sailing with my father."
"And does he still sail?"
"Sure. He owns a few big crewed yachts based in the Mediterranean. When they're idle, he uses them. When I was in my early teens, I worked as deck crew on them."
"So have you owned a lot of boats?"
"Owned? No. This is the first one I've actually bought. I don't count some of the little ones I had growing up down in the islands. They were more like the kind you sailed off the beach."
"And the one tied up next to us? You said it's a sister ship. Was it built in the same factory?"
She grinned. "No. Boats like these are custom built. They're built in boatyards, or shipyards, not factories."
"But it looks identical."
"They're both built to the same design. A naval architect named Herreshoff drew the lines. The original was named Bounty. There have been quite a few built over the years, but no two are alike. When people commission the construction of boats like these, they modify things to suit themselves. Not usually anything major, but there's still a lot of variation."
"Interesting. This is like a different world to me. I mean, you could go anywhere you wanted on a boat like this, right? Anywhere in the world?"
"Well, not quite anywhere. There has to be enough water for her draft."
"Draft?"
"She draws close to six feet. That's the depth of water it takes for her to float."
"And when you go somewhere, you have your home with you. That's really cool. I think I could get interested in living like this. Can we look at the one next door, too? I'd like to see the differences."
"We'll ask Paul and Connie after lunch. Let's go up and see how Liz is doing. She and Paul decided to cook indoors instead of aboard."
"She and Paul? I thought Paul went with Connie."
"He does. But he and Liz are both first-rate chefs. When we're all together, the two of them try to outdo one another with their newest recipes."
"Sounds like I'm in for a treat."
"No doubt. I did -- "
She was interrupted by a man's voice, calling from the dock. "Dani? You aboard?"
"That's Phillip," she said, mounting the companionway ladder. "Coming!"
As she emerged into the cockpit, Phillip said, "Liz sent me to tell you lunch will be ready in about five minutes. They're setting up in the outdoor dining room. Besides, I wanted to meet your friend."
She stepped aside, giving Ortiz room to
climb into the cockpit. "David Ortiz," she said, "meet Phillip Davis."
Ortiz scrambled onto the dock and took Phillip's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Davis. Dani's told me a lot about you."
"It's nice to meet you, too," Phillip said, his grip firm, his eyes locked on Ortiz's. He nodded and released his grip. "Call me Phillip."
"You're from Martinique?" Ortiz said, as the three of them began walking up the dock.
"Well, I live there, now. My wife's from there, but I grew up in Georgia. Dani told me your mother's family's from Martinique."
"That's right, but I don't know much about it. I've never been there. Her parents lived in Cuba before Castro. When things got bad, they went to Martinique. It was my grandmother's family that lived there, actually. My father was from Cuba."
"You told me your parents came from Cuba on a raft, David," Dani said, frowning. "When your mother was pregnant."
"Uh, right," Ortiz said. "That's right. I was born in Miami. Dani said you were retired from the Army, Phillip."
"Yes," Phillip said.
"Where were you stationed?"
"Different places. Later in my career, I was a military attaché in Barbados, but I actually worked all over the Caribbean basin."
"David," Dani said, "I don't understand why your parents came from Cuba to Florida on a raft if they'd left Cuba after Castro to live in Martinique."
"Well, it's pretty convoluted," Ortiz said. "I'll tell you about it later, okay? No need to bore everybody with that tale. Were you ever in combat, Phillip?"
"I was too young for Viet Nam, and I was tied up down island during the actions in the Middle East."
"You must have been a pretty senior officer by then," Ortiz said, ignoring the looks Dani was sending his way.
"I guess," Phillip said, watching Dani, trying to catch her eye.
"I would have thought a senior career officer would have been sent where the action was," Ortiz said.
"Trying to understand the how and why of military assignments is a short route to insanity," Phillip said as they stepped onto the veranda. "Nice chatting with you, David, but I'll excuse myself while Dani introduces you around. I need to make a quick call; I'll catch up with everybody shortly."
****
Chapter 14
Martínez sat in the tiny back room of a restaurant off Calle Ocho in Little Havana. He sipped at a thimble-sized cup of strong, sweet Cuban coffee while he waited for Maldonado. Before he'd finished the coffee, there was a tap on the door and Maldonado entered.
Bluewater Revolution: The Twelfth Novel in the Bluewater Thriller Series - Mystery and Adventure in Florida, Cuba, and the Caribbean (Bluewater Thrillers Book 12) Page 11