Right on schedule, the lights, surveillance cameras, and audio feeds went dead as Calhoun snapped the lock off the APS unit and disabled the main power line with bolt cutters. Shortly afterward, Blanco pressed the switch to ignite the C4 to dislodge the concrete to gain access to the warehouse. The pieces slid into the tunnels amidst dust from the detonation. One piece fell out of the safety net making a strong thud sound. Blanco popped his head out of the hole swiftly to see what was happening in the warehouse. Through night-vision goggles, Blanco saw the officers trying to get oriented in the warehouse, now without light. He watched as one ran directly toward him. Next to him, Timms popped his head up, picked up the same threat and downed the man with a beanbag round before he got too close. The guard was struck in the chest and lay motionless.
Blanco whispered, “Shit.”
Timms whispered back, “So much for stealth.”
Timms and Blanco quickly brought up 40 mm launchers and shot smoke grenades and flash-bang grenades into the warehouse. This disoriented the remaining officers and made a little cushion of open space around the speedboat.
With their night-vision goggles in place, the team entered the warehouse and scrambled to access the cabinet. They broke the lock and began unloading the duffel bags. They slid them to the holes in the warehouse floor and pushed the bags into the holes. When all bags were below, the team followed back into the tunnels. Once in the tunnels, the DOG Unit worked feverishly to get the cocaine into the Denali.
Six minutes later, the fatigued team members climbed into the Yukon and sped back the way they’d come through the tunnels.
Blanco finally allowed himself to breathe. “I’m extremely proud of you guys. So far, there are no casualties and we’re on schedule.” I sure need to work out more. I’m completely winded.
Timms said, “Man, that was almost too easy. I heard a bunch of yelling and screaming, but no firing. We were met with little resistance, except the one guy I dropped with the bean bag round. None of the guards came to see what exactly was going on.”
He paused. “Something isn’t right. I get the feeling they wanted us to get away with the dope. You think this was just a training mission?”
Blanco calculated the situation. Right now, all he knew was he had duffel bags of suspected cocaine in the Yukon. As far as he knew, this was just a training mission. His mind began to play tricks with him. What if Calhoun just played us?
He realized no one checked the bags to see what was actually inside. Blanco slammed on the brakes. Son of a bitch. He jumped out and ran toward the rear of the Yukon.
Blanco smiled and looked at his team. “Guys, relax. Timms called it. This was another training mission.”
Timms responded, “Then why’d we stop? And why are you ripping open that duffel bag?”
Blanco didn’t pay attention to Timms. He frantically opened the sealed duffel bag with his knife. White powder poured from the side. Oh shit. I wonder if that’s cocaine.
He shook his head. “I’m not going to bullshit you. We may have a major problem here.” He pointed at the white powder pouring out of the duffel bag he’d ripped. “That may be pure cocaine. If it is, we just opened up a serious can of worms.”
The team members looked at each other then back at Blanco.
He continued, “For argument’s sake, let’s assume…” The thud in his chest from the bean bag round knocked him to the ground. Blanco’s head hit the tunnel floor as unconsciousness claimed him.
The rest of the team looked at Timms, who held a less-than-lethal shotgun. “What? He was about to figure out we’re working for Calhoun and we just stole a shit load of cocaine from local police.” Timms threw the shotgun behind him and pulled out his sidearm.
He walked over to finish off Blanco.
Kemp jumped between Timms and Blanco’s body. “Stealing cocaine for a big payday is one thing. Killing Blanco is another.” He looked at the rest of the team and then back at Timms. “We aren’t killing Blanco. You guys got us sucked into Calhoun’s trap and we all need the money. But, a murder case of a fellow unit member is bullshit and something neither of us needs.”
Timms was pissed and wanted to finish off Blanco. “Just because Calhoun put him in charge, doesn’t mean I won’t kill him. There’s a reason Blanco wasn’t included in this part of the plan. He’s weak and he’ll spend the rest of his life looking for us after he learns what we did.”
Kemp agreed Blanco was weak but pointed at Timms and the rest of the men. “Get in the car and drive. We’re behind schedule now. End of discussion.”
Timms hesitantly got into the driver’s seat as the other members filed in. They sped away, leaving Blanco lying in the tunnel.
Kemp kept his eyes on Timms as they neared the tunnel entrance. He clicked the Bluetooth in his ear and dialed the boss. Calhoun needed to know the mission might have been compromised. However, the concrete and steel in the tunnels made it impossible for Kemp’s call to get through at that moment.
* * * *
As planned, Calhoun left the storage yard after causing orchestrated chaos. He casually worked his way back to the airport in a rental car his son had obtained and delivered earlier in the evening when everyone was out drinking. He’d parked the car a few blocks from the APS and left an assault rifle and ballistic vest under the passenger seat. There was also a change of clothes.
He had no idea if the DOG Unit had been successful or if they’d had to kill anyone. Since he hadn’t heard from Blanco or Kemp, he figured everything was okay. He realized playing Blanco against Kemp by not letting him in on the secret was a risk. But, he needed Blanco’s brains and leadership. Then it hit him. Calhoun began to wonder if things, in fact, had gone too easily. Not knowing the status of the cocaine really bothered him. He considered ditching the rental car and taking the small Cessna he’d had moved to the small, unimproved runway along the south end of the island.
Calhoun chuckled. You’re overreacting. Greed forced him to believe everything was fine, and he contemplated ways to spend all his money once his buyer paid for the cocaine. He was confident it was still untraceable, but replaying what had just occurred at the storage facility made him start to worry again. Things were going as planned, but he remained anxious to get out of the country.
Taking the pre-planned route from the APS to the main airport, he was cautious of people on the street, on bikes, or in vehicles. He was weary of the locals as well since he assumed the men on his payroll had been hauled in and may have provided investigators with information point them in his direction. The constant worry about his secret identity consumed Calhoun. He just couldn’t be sure he was still in the clear. Before he had a chance to test the theory, he made a right turn and saw two local police vehicles coming right at him. Their emergency lights were spinning and the sirens were blaring. Calhoun’s heart seemed to stop from nerves. It was an feeling he hadn’t had in a long time. Now was definitely not the time for this to happen.
He frantically looked for a way to dodge the local police cars. Buildings lined the street. No alleys. In a matter of seconds they would be on him. Calhoun saw a parked car and maneuvered his vehicle behind it so he could use the vehicle’s engine compartment as cover when he opened fire.
The aggressive maneuver got the attention of the two policemen who had no knowledge that Calhoun was the Caller. As they braked hard to investigate, Calhoun popped up and riddled their cars with high-velocity rounds. The police vehicles and officers were shredded. Calhoun was no stranger to dead bodies. He believed the ones in front of him were clearly dead but scanned the area for further threats and detected none.
He slammed on the accelerator and drove directly to the airport. He still wasn’t sure if the locals or the Miami detectives were on to him, but he’d just murdered two cops. He assumed someone must have witnessed it. As soon as he could, Calhoun was going to get the hell off the island.
* * * *
Bubba called two of his friends who were dump truck operators on A
ndros Island. They agreed to bring their big vehicles to the tunnel entrance and block it, in case they needed to stop the suspects.
He then phoned Roger back. Putting his phone on speaker, he asked Roger to put Dix on. When he answered, Bubba told him, “Mon, we got a situation here.” He quickly relayed what they’d seen. Wilfred nodded his agreement.
“How did we miss something like that? Do you guys have a visual on the men in the SUV? All hell broke loose at the warehouse.”
Bubba replied, “We watched them go through the gate. I called Pops, my grandfather. He said there were underground utility tunnels throughout the city. This is the entrance. The guys haven’t come out yet, but everything went black a few minutes ago. We figured there must have been an attack at the warehouse.”
“Tunnels. Why didn’t someone tell us about them? Christ, it’s too late to focus on that now. Listen, we have a lot of evidence indicating Calhoun is the Caller. We need to catch him trying to leave with the drugs to cement the case against him.”
This time Wilfred spoke. “The legend of the Coast Guard? Are you crazy?”
Dix answered, “I know it’s a lot to handle, and we didn’t want to believe it either, but it’s clear he’s the Caller. He does not have Coast Guard approval to use the jet he came in, I checked. Officially, he’s on a two-week vacation. I need you guys to stay on the phone and let me know whenever you have something to report. Don’t take Calhoun on yourselves, whatever you do.”
Wilfred answered. “We’ll watch for you, but if they start shooting, I’m not going to die just so you guys can catch Calhoun. We’ll do what we can to help.”
“That’s all we ask. I’m guessing the dope is in the vehicle you saw go through the gate. Once they come out, they’ll probably head to the airport. According to the lookouts there, Calhoun and his assistant are waiting on the tarmac next to one of the jets. Don’t try to stop the SUV from making it to the plane.”
Wilfred looked at Bubba. “Hold on a second. You want the dope to get through, right?”
“Yes, why?”
Wilfred looked at Bubba. “Get those dump trucks out of the way now, mon. We want them to get through.”
Bubba stepped out of the car and made a few hand signals to the two men standing on the street. They jumped into their trucks and fired up the engines.
Bubba heard Dix laugh. “That was a great idea.”
As the trucks moved away, the black SUV rolled slowly out of the tunnel entrance.
Bubba noticed the windows were down a few inches. He wasn’t sure, but it looked like rifle barrels protruded slightly out of the two rear windows. As the vehicle reached the street, the driver slammed on the accelerator, and the vehicle lurched ahead. Bubba watched the SUV turn left and disappear. Then he lumbered back into his car.
Just as he fell into the passenger seat, Wilfred turned the key and spoke into the phone. “They just left the tunnel. The SUV looks loaded. The rear is sagging. And the windows were rolled down just far enough to get gun barrels through. The occupants appeared ready for a battle. They should be at the airport in a couple of minutes.”
From the phone speaker came the response. “Okay. Tail them like you did before but try not to alert them to your presence. Keep the phone line open so we can communicate quickly.”
Bubba shut his door, and they followed the black car. Once they reached the airport, Bubba and Wilfred parked near a stand of trees and took a defensive position in case of a firefight. They laid out their extra magazines so they’d be available quickly if needed. Bubba glanced at the runway and was stunned. Two similar-looking G5 jets sat on the tarmac. The roar of their engines confirmed they were running. Through binoculars, Bubba noticed pilots in the cockpit of both planes. His mind raced to figure out what exactly Calhoun had up his sleeve.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed as he pointed at the planes.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Martin dumped the scooter he used to putt around the lodge property a few hundred yards from the airport and traveled the remaining distance rapidly on foot. He climbed a tree to get up on the ledge of an old building to gain a better vantage point. With his binoculars, he spotted Calhoun casually inhaling a cigar while he watched a black SUV pull between two jets. As the vehicle came to a stop, men jumped out and Martin watched as Calhoun began barking orders.
Martin couldn’t hear what was being said and could not read lips.
Dix said this was going to be easy, he thought.
All he’d had to do was confirm if Calhoun showed up to the airport, watch him and try to remember everything he saw at the airport. If it seemed important, he was to call Petersen to let him know.
Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked him. Martin freaked out and saw a huge, fiery blaze mushrooming above the area where he thought the police storage shed was located. He certainly was not the man for this job. Pull it together, he thought.
Panning to his right, Martin spotted several Royal Bahamian Police Officers. They moved slowly toward a hangar near the tarmac. On the left, others in black jackets with “FBI” and “DEA” on the back also advanced toward the tarmac.
Martin guessed close to thirty law enforcement officials appeared to be circling the airport.
He looked back at the plume of smoke rising in the moonlight. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about the situation in front of him. Thinking of Suzie helped him regain his composure. He turned back to get Calhoun in his sights. Now three men surrounded Calhoun, and it looked like they were arguing. Oh shit, I need to call Petersen.
He dialed Petersen, hoping for a quick answer.
* * * *
Dix and Petersen were at the command post a mile from the airport consulting with the Agents in Charge (AIC) of DEA, FBI, and the Royal Bahamian Police Commissioner.
Their phones squawked and the radios were a mess as everyone attempted to broadcast at the same time. The DEA boss listened for a moment. “Roger that.” He turned to the detectives. “A firm perimeter is in place. You and the rest of our agents will be the arrest team. The locals will contain the scene and maintain the perimeter.”
Dix paused for a moment. “Guys, I know this man. I understand criminals even better. These guys don’t spend thirty years orchestrating lies and building empires to give up easily. From what I’ve heard, the guys in the DOG Unit with him are the best of the best as far as trained killers go, but I don’t think they had any idea they were being used as pawns for Calhoun. We need to wait until the dope is unloaded and Calhoun gets into the plane with it before we strike.”
As he finished, his phone rang.
“What’s up, Martin?”
“Jesus, man. What are you guys doing? No one answers my calls. Where’s Petersen, and what blew up?”
“Martin, you need to calm down. Just tell me what you see, and we’ll figure this all out.”
All this craziness on his little island had him freaked out. Martin was beside himself.
“Come on buddy, tell me what you see. Martin, you there?”
Martin regained his focus. “It looks like three guys have Calhoun surrounded. They look really pissed off. A black SUV showed up with the guys surrounding Calhoun, and there are two almost identical jets on the runway.”
Dix hoped the DOG Unit knew what they were doing. Cornering a man like Calhoun could be catastrophic.
“Are they the same guys who arrived in the Denali?”
“Yes. I think so.”
Dix covered the receiver on his phone and relayed the update to the bosses.
“What are they doing now?”
“They’re screaming at each other. No one is backing off. There’s another guy behind one of the jets. He sort of looks like a younger version of Calhoun. His rifle is trained on the men arguing with Calhoun.”
“Okay, keep the line open. The wheels are falling off this one. When the shooting starts, stay low Martin.”
Dix asked the OIC to order units to move in. Calhoun was close enough to th
e drugs and the evidence would be overwhelming. Dix couldn’t think of a legitimate reason Calhoun had done what he had. He spoke into his phone. “Did you see the explosion?”
“Yeah. It was massive. Wait. A couple of guys are unloading the SUV now.” Martin shouted. “Holy shit! Dix, I didn’t see it before, but there’s two of everything. Two black SUVs, two jets, and two groups of guys unloading the stuff from the SUVs into the jets. I can’t tell who is who, man.”
Dix shook his head. Son of a bitch, the confusion created by the explosion and the duplicate vehicle and jet would buy him time. He pleaded with the OIC. “We’ve got to go now.”
Martin broke in. “Dix, they’re done. Hold on…” the phone went dead.
* * * *
As Calhoun had slowly worked his way to the tarmac after leaving the storage facility and killing two local officers, he had noticed two local Bahamian men in an old car parked in a spot overlooking the airport. Their position would provide them a clear shot at him. He chuckled. Couldn’t have picked a better spot myself.
His advantage was he was properly concealed and knew of their location. Once he arrived safely at the airport, he retrieved his sniper rifle. Now he eyed the two locals through his sniper rifle scope and thought about taking them out. He felt he should but had larger problems to deal with currently.
Calhoun hadn’t anticipated the situation unraveling as it had and was forced to get to the runway immediately to meet with the DOG Unit. He knew the unit wouldn’t let him down and calculated they’d be on the runway any second. The officers he spotted overlooking the area continued to nag at him. He determined they were too much of a threat. He calmly lined up each of them and killed them with a single round apiece.
He placed himself between the jets and the Yukon Denalis to ensure any other threats he might have missed wouldn’t have a clear shot at him. His plan included jumping on the jet with the cocaine, with or without his son, and leaving the area for good.
Gray Ghost (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 1) Page 16