After a few calls, he discovered that there had only been two interisland freighters of Venezuelan registry operating in the area between Guadeloupe and St. Lucia in the past 10 days, although several others were expected. The two of interest were Santa Magdalena and Polaris, and Santa Magdalena was impounded in Miami. Polaris had cleared from Portsmouth, Dominica, a few days ago, bound for La Guairá, Venezuela, in ballast, which was a bit unusual. No shipping company willingly ran ships without cargo. In the short time that Phillip had been retired, there had been a good deal of change in Venezuela, with the result that he had lost his connections there and couldn’t check to see if Polaris had arrived. He decided that the planned route itself was highly unlikely, as the little freighters like Polaris and Santa Magdalena normally hopped from island to island picking up odd lots of cargo; a long trip in ballast was suspicious, and no one had seen Polaris since she left Portsmouth.
Just as Phillip concluded that Polaris was likely to be holding a position over the horizon to the west of the islands, serving as a base of operations for whatever Martinez was doing, his cell phone rang. Checking the caller i.d. as he raised the phone to his ear, he said, "Good morning, Sharktooth."
"Good morning, my frien’. Everyt’ing good wit’ you?"
"Everything’s fine. How about with you?"
"Okay, Phillip. Everyt’ing good wit’ me. I go wit’ Felix an’ Henry this mornin’ early, when they meet the mon buy the puffer fish. I want to look at he."
"And did you?"
"He don’ come, one time this morning. Two other mens come, an’ after they get the fish, they ax can we sell them some ganja."
"Yes," Phillip prompted.
"Henry, he smoke wit’ the mens while we drif’ an’ talk. The two mens, they get to be easy wit’ we, an’ they smoke some more. Me, I work ‘round to ax ‘bout the mon been come."
"What did you learn about him, Sharktooth," Phillip asked, knowing his friend’s report couldn’t be hastened.
"The mon been come, he name Moraga. From Venezuela. They on a ship call Polaris. The boss man, he name Martinez. Martinez, he tell the mon Moraga go to Miami this morning. The mens in the RIB, they jus’ come from take Moraga to Les Saintes. He gon’ catch the fas’ ferry to Point-à-Pitre."
"Thank you, my friend, Phillip said. "That’s exactly what we needed to know. Dani and I will meet you off Scott’s Head late this afternoon with Midnight Thunder if you can get somebody to bring you out to the usual spot. We’ll board Polaris and talk with this Martinez. Bring your filet knife."
"No problem. I be there. We get out there after lunch, mebbe catch some fish while we wait. But, Phillip?"
"But what, Sharktooth?"
"The mens from Polaris, they say some more."
"Okay. Tell me, please."
"A mon name Giscard, a Haitian, he wit’ Martinez. The mens, they say Giscard is bokor. You know what is bokor?"
"Yes."
"The mens, they hear Giscard an’ Martinez talk. Two more mens, they chain in the cargo hold, yes. Giscard, he will make these two mens zombie. You know zombie?"
"Yes. Thanks, Sharktooth. Good work. See you this afternoon."
"Okay, Phillip. Thank you. Glad I help. But, Phillip?"
"Yes. What else did they say?"
"Moraga will bring back more mens for the bokor, an’ he take the zombies to Miami later. That is everyt’ing, Phillip. Later, mon. Blessing."
****
"Richard says that the two marines guarding the bateye get random calls from Martinez, but always at least one call every 24 hours," Dani reported. She and Lilly and the professor were back aboard Vengeance. Phillip had met them in Ste. Anne when they returned from their visit with Racine in Trois-Îlets, and they had all come back to Vengeance for a late lunch. "He says that one of them has paired off with a girl who works at the hotel -- a real looker, he says, named Annie. He says the other guy stays by himself and watches the young girls – they’re all frightened of him, but he hasn’t done anything but stare, so far."
"The one that’s sweet on Annie told her that if Martinez fails to call, the other guy has instructions to hurt one of the children. He told her the man is a pervert; he likes to hurt children, especially little girls. He’s an outcast among the other marines, according to this guy."
"Okay. That means that when we hit Polaris tonight, we need to take out those two marines, too. Sounds like the timing isn’t too critical, though," Phillip said. "I’ll arrange that with Clarence – shouldn’t be a big deal for him to send a couple of his boys in, posing as Haitians. They can nail the marines while we’re on Polaris."
"Right," Dani said. "Sounds almost too easy. Capture Martinez, free the houngan, scuttle Polaris."
"What about the crew on the freighter?" Liz asked.
"Well, assuming they don’t resist, we’ll leave them a life raft. They should be fine," Phillip said.
"But aren’t they witnesses?" the professor asked.
"But who would they tell, Chuck? Besides, they aren’t exactly innocent," Lilly said.
"You’re a quick study," Dani said, offering Lilly a fist-bump and following with a high five.
"But what about the ship sinking?" the professor asked. "Won’t there be questions?"
"Happens all the time with those little interisland rust-buckets," Phillip said. "The crew will blame it on something that’s not their fault, some kind of failure. No doubt there’s some repair they’ve been begging the owners to make for a while. There always is."
"So what do you need from the three of us?" Liz asked.
"Take care of Vengeance. Stay aboard and keep the sat phone on. We may need you to relay communications for us," Dani said, looking at Phillip.
"Yes. I’ve already briefed Paul Russo – Liz, you can tell Chuck and Lilly about Paul and Sharktooth later. Paul put me on a conference call with a Federal agent named Dan O’Brien, who’s heading up the team that’s working the Santa Magdalena case. O’Brien is arranging with the Coast Guard in San Juan to have a helicopter ready to take Martinez off our hands; they’ll figure out what to do with him."
"We’ll probably be back here well before daylight," Dani said.
"But you said the freighter was off Dominica," the professor said, frowning.
"Right. So?" Dani asked, looking at him blankly.
"You’re talking about a 200-mile trip, plus whatever time you spend up there. I thought you were going by boat."
"Oh. Midnight Thunder’s technically a boat, I guess, but not like anything most people have seen. She’ll pick me and Phillip up in about 30 minutes, and you’ll get a look at her. Pay attention, though. She’s hard to see, even up close in daylight, and she’s got a range of about a thousand miles if we keep the speed down around a hundred knots," Dani said.
"Sounds like military stuff," the professor said.
"In their dreams," Phillip said. "The military can’t move fast enough to even buy something like Midnight Thunder."
"So what does your friend use her for?" Lilly asked.
"Fishing," Dani said, the icy look in her blue eyes quelling further discussion. Phillip looked at her and chuckled.
Chapter 36
"That’s got to be Polaris," Phillip said, standing behind Dani, looking over her shoulder as she studied the radar scope.
"Yeah, there’re no other targets in the area," she agreed. "But she’s 20 miles south of where we expected her, and moving along at about nine knots. Wonder where they’re going?"
"No matter. It’s easier for us to hit ‘em while they’re underway; not as likely that an idle crewman will spot us," Phillip said. "Rig the big, soft inflatable fenders, Jacques," he said to the man running Midnight Thunder. "We’ll just squeeze up against her long enough for the three of us to get aboard, and then you can stand off until we call you for the pickup."
Jacques nodded his understanding and gave an order to his crewman in rapid Creole French. The crewman turned and went into an aft compartment, rummaging for the
fenders.
"We won’t take a chance on finding the pilot ladder in place; better if we just use lines with grappling hooks. We can all go at once, that way. Sharktooth, I want you over the rail first. Dani and I will hang on the lines until you give us a sign. You said there were only two crewmen and the captain. The captain, Moraga, and Martinez are all Hispanic and you know the crew. Giscard is a slight, black man; and the prisoners shouldn’t be on deck. We want Martinez and Giscard alive; the others don’t matter either way, but we need them out of action. We’ll free the prisoners once we’ve taken the ship. Once you make sure the deck is clear for us to board, I’ll work forward and you work aft. Dani, you cover us. We’ll work our way up to the bridge as quickly as we can once we clear the main deck, but let’s keep the ship running on course until we’ve got everybody accounted for. Did I miss anything?"
Dani and Sharktooth shook their heads
"Once we’ve taken the ship, I’ll set the charges below the waterline, amidships. When we leave the ship, I’ll start the 10-minute timer, but we should stay aboard until the Coast Guard chopper comes for Moraga and Martinez. It’ll be easier to manage the pickup from the freighter. Besides, I don’t want those guys getting a good look at Midnight Thunder. Once the chopper is clear, we’ll call you, Jacques. You’ll need to hold Thunder alongside for a couple of minutes; we’ll have Giscard and the two prisoners – no telling what kind of shape they’re in, so we may have to lower them one at a time."
"Hey, Phillip," Dani interrupted.
"Yes?"
"Why not let the Coast Guard take the two prisoners? We don’t need them; they came from Miami, and they might need medical attention."
"Good idea; I just wasn’t thinking. Call Liz and get her to let them know they’re picking up two extra people."
As Dani picked up the satellite phone, Phillip and Sharktooth began assembling their gear from the stocks in the concealed lockers, setting out extras for Dani. Within five minutes, Phillip and Dani were wearing camouflage face paint, and all three had web gear, silenced pistols, and grappling lines.
"Ready," Phillip said to Jacques. "Take us alongside."
Ten minutes later, Phillip and Sharktooth were on the bridge, Captain Suarez and his two crewmen sitting sullenly against a bulkhead, cable ties cutting into their wrists and ankles. Dani and Giscard had taken a big ring of keys from a locker in the captain’s cabin behind the bridge deck and gone below to set the two prisoners free. Phillip was examining the contents of a zippered binder that contained the ship’s papers as Sharktooth idly cleaned his fingernails with the gleaming 12-inch blade of an oversized filet knife.
"So, Captain Suarez, we know that you had two men aboard – Moraga and Martinez. They aren’t on any of your papers -- not crew, not passengers. Where are they?"
"This is piracy! You have no right…," Suarez’s outburst was silenced by a sharp blow to the side of his head, delivered by the open palm of Sharktooth’s huge hand. Suarez shook his head, trying to clear his vision.
"The U.S. Coast Guard will be along in a few minutes, Captain. You can file a complaint with them if you wish. Right now, you should answer my questions. My friend here gets impatient, sometimes," Phillip said, looking at Sharktooth, who had resumed grooming his fingernails.
"The U.S. Coast Guard, they have no right to board my ship in international waters," Suarez said.
Sharktooth set his filet knife carefully on the chart table and took a step toward Suarez.
"Coast Guard wants to take Suarez and the crew," Dani said, stepping off the ladder from the main deck. "I just got word from Liz. They’re sending a boarding party to take charge of Polaris. The chopper’s got room for these three and the two prisoners."
"Where’s Giscard?" Phillip asked.
"He and the prisoners are both getting a little fresh air. They’re okay."
"How long do we have?" Phillip asked.
Dani looked puzzled.
"Before the chopper gets here?" Phillip clarified.
"Oh. They won’t take off until Liz calls back. We’ve got all the time we want. Why?"
"Just curious. The captain is a little reticent; I was hoping Sharktooth wouldn’t have to do a rush job. You know how messy he can be if he’s in a hurry."
"No, Phillip. I practice wit’ the knife since the las’ time. Mo’ bettah than when that las’ one bleed all over."
"Who did you practice on?" Dani asked.
"Mango," Sharktooth said, a grin displaying his collection of gold teeth. In the dim light of the bridge’s night illumination, the giant Rasta man looked satanic as he shook out his waist-length dreadlocks. He gathered them into a ponytail, tying them back before he picked up the knife. "Mustn’t get blood in the dreads, jus’ in case. Wife don’ like."
"Mango?" Phillip asked. "Who’s that?"
"No, mon. Not who. Practice wit’ mango, ‘til I cut jus’ top of skin away, no juice, no mess. One little strip, one more little strip, ‘til mango peel, but not cut, no juice."
"I see," Phillip said, taking in the worried look on the captain’s face.
"I t’ink I can peel the mon, now, no blood, mebbe," Sharktooth said, a look of concentration on his broad face as he took a step toward the bound man. "Unless he got too many hair. Hair make it difficult. Mus’ cut jus’ so deep, to not get blood."
He paused, assessing the captain with a practiced eye. "Ver’ hairy, this mon. Mebbe start wit’ he back?" He looked at Phillip for guidance.
Phillip shrugged and nodded.
Sharktooth reached out with his left hand, his right still holding the knife. His fingers gently stroked the hair on Suarez’s head, exploring. Like a giant, chocolate-brown spider, the hand felt its way down and across the man’s cheek. Suarez gave an involuntary shudder. "Hair, beard, all too t’ick," he mumbled. The fingers laced themselves through the hair on the crown of Suarez’s head. The big hand closed around the skull as if picking up a ball, and Sharktooth gave a jerk, causing the captain to sprawl face-down on the deck. With a blindingly fast, graceful motion, his right hand swept over the man’s back, leaving his shirt split cleanly from his neck to his belt. The captain screamed.
"Easy, easy, my frien’," Sharktooth crooned, his left hand spreading the cleanly sliced cloth, exposing an expanse of smooth, dark brown skin. Sharktooth bent close to examine the man’s back, exploring gently with the fingers of his left hand. "See, cut jus’ so. No blood, Phillip. No mess. Jus’ this one little slice, not even through the skin. He changed the stroking movement of his left hand slightly and the captain shrieked again. "Ver’ painful, I t’ink, like the paper cut. But no blood, see Phillip? I show you again…"
"No!" screamed the captain.
"Phillip?" Sharktooth asked, hope in his voice.
"Where are Martinez and Moraga, Captain Suarez?" Phillip asked in a conversational tone.
"Moraga’s gone to Miami. Martinez took his big RIB. He maybe was going to Rodney Bay, St. Lucia. I heard him talk to someone on the satellite phone about picking up a sergeant and two men. He told me to take up a position in the St. Lucia Channel and wait for his call."
The satellite phone in Dani’s hand rang. She glanced at the caller i.d. screen. "Liz," she announced as she stepped outside to answer the call.
Sharktooth laid his hand on the captain’s back again, provoking another scream.
"No, Sharktooth." Phillip shook his head.
"Jus’ see if he bleed yet, Phillip," Sharktooth said.
"Bad news," Dani said, stepping back inside.
"What?" Phillip asked.
"Coast Guard got orders from higher up to move; not to wait for us to call. They’re on their way; ETA is about 10 minutes."
"That’s okay. We’re about through here. We don’t need to scuttle the ship. Let’s get Giscard and get aboard Thunder. If they’re changing the rules, I’d like to be out of here before they get here."
"What about the two guys who were chained in the hold?" Dani asked.
"Just
leave them. We’ll tell ‘em to stay on deck and wait for the Coasties. Let’s go," he said, as he called Jacques on his handheld VHF.
****
"Don’t!" Annie screamed, hysteria in her eyes as she clung to her lover.
He held her tightly to his chest with his left arm, his AK-47 clutched by the pistol grip in his right hand. He was in a standoff with two men who had just entered the shack unannounced. He couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think they lived in the bateye. The two men that Clarence had sent to liberate the bateye were maddeningly calm, silenced pistols pointed at the armed marine as they surveyed the room where the houngan’s niece lived. Her two children huddled in the far corner. One of the strangers spoke softly in a Creole French dialect that the marine couldn’t quite understand.
"No!" Annie shrieked as the two men side-stepped away from each other quickly, opening the distance between them, forcing the marine to choose a target, leaving the other man free to shoot him.
This timeless ballet of death was interrupted when the other Venezuelan marine stepped through the door, his AK-47 leveled at Annie. There was a sound like ripping canvas amplified to an ear-splitting volume, and Annie was knocked flat. She felt the weight of her lover’s muscular body forcing her into the hard-packed dirt floor as his gun flew from his hands, landing several feet away on the floor, a wisp of smoke curling slowly from the barrel. She wept in fear as the two men with pistols approached cautiously. One stuck his pistol in his waistband and reached down, lifting her lover off of her. He rose to his feet, hands in the air.
"You had us, amigo," said the man without a pistol, as he bent to check on Annie. "Why did you shoot your friend?"
Bluewater Voodoo: Mystery and Adventure in the Caribbean (Bluewater Thrillers Book 3) Page 22