Bahama Breeze

by Eddie Jones

“This is stupid,” Anna countered. “I’m not going to argue civil liberties with a terrorist from a communist regime.”

  “Good. I’m tired of talking.”

  “But you’re wrong about my country. We would never try to kill you, or your president. We need to keep the south Florida vote in play.”

  “Hey, you know, all the time I say the same thing to my cousin. I say, ‘El Jefe, those Americanos, they no want to kill you. They love to hate you.’ But he is so loco, just like your president. So you see, we are not so different.”

  “Yes we are!” Anna searched the cramped torpedo chamber for a way out. “Can’t we make a deal? My freedom for yours?”

  He shook his head defiantly. “I know what your congressman say…of how he sell you to me so you could spy on my country. He is, estupido, no?”

  “You got that right.” With a growing sense of desperation she added, “What do you plan to do with me?”

  He rubbed his fingers to indicate a payoff. “Auction.”

  “Who in their right minds would want a data intelligence analyst?”

  “North Koreans, Iranians, Chinese. And those are just the ones I’ve already contacted.”

  “So you bundle me up and ship me off to the highest bidder, is that the idea?”

  “Think Sotheby’s meets Tijuana.” He patted the side of the torpedo silo. “Now, in you go. I have more calls to make.” Martinez spun the silo’s wheel and pulled open a round hatch.

  Anna looked past the shadows of the cylindrical coffin, feeling ill. “Please, no. Just let me sit here. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

  Wagging his finger, “You should no recommend me for Miami Vice treatment. Very bad thing you do.” He reached for her ankles to pull her closer to the tube.

  Instinctively she brought her feet up fast, clubbing him across the throat and driving him back. He banged his head off a metal strut, rebounded quickly and came wobbling towards her.

  Rocking onto her back, she recoiled and kicked, catching him in the mid-section. A loud grunt erupted as air exploded from his lungs. She scrambled onto her feet and followed with a two-fisted round-house swing that caught him flush against his ear and sent him sprawling onto the torpedo. He crumpled into a pile, spitting blood onto the metal grate at her feet.

  She’d pummeled the kicking bags during self-defense training, earning some of the highest marks in her class, but this was the first time she’d actually broken a man. It felt good.

  “No mas,” he croaked.

  His eyes remained unfocused. A hard blow across the neck and it would kill him. But that wasn’t her style, or in the best interest of her career.

  Boggs was wrong about a lot of things, but not this opportunity. By single-handedly capturing an escaped terrorist, she would become a national hero. Maybe even pad her pension.

  “On your stomach,” she barked, nudging his ribs.

  He lowered his chin, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

  “I said, on your belly.” She bent toward him.

  The glint of the knife flashed past her mid-section, narrowly missing her ribs, but he’d put too much effort behind the thrust, leaving him off balance.

  She came down with her hands, catching him just above the wrist. The knife clanked away, falling between the slats of the metal grate. Her momentum carried her forward and over him, cracking her elbow on the hard casing of the torpedo. Her arm went numb. She lunged for the knife, but was too late.

  He pounced, slamming his fist into her side, all the while working his way on top of her until he straddled her back. Wrapping his arm under her chin he pulled her up until the cords in her neck felt as if they’d snap.

  Her teeth found the tip of his thumb and she locked on, grinding and gnawing until he screamed and let go. She bucked him off. Crawling toward the knife, she reached for the handle but he caught her ankle and snatched her back. He thumped her chin on the grate twice and flipped her over to hit her in the face.

  “No mas,” she cried, placing her hands out. A wetness oozed into her eyes.

  “Sí,” he said, weakly. “No mas.”

  He shoved her toward the empty silo. She knee-crawled to the chamber, obediently sticking her head inside. He hoisted her up by the ankles and jammed her forward. A knock on the torpedo-bay door gave him pause.

  “Un momento, por favor,” he called, still trying to push her feet inside.

  Another hard knock and he relaxed his hold on her ankles. He muttered in Spanish as she heard him moving towards the door.

  Quickly she wormed her way out.

  Martinez cracked the door a few inches and peered out. Suddenly, he staggered back as the man barged into the room. A vicious right uppercut lifted the Cuban off his feet. Two quick fist shots to the face started Martinez on a slow spin that ended abruptly with a hard overhand that opened a gash over his brow.

  “You’re a hard woman to catch.” Sonny kicked the door shut and, stepping over Martinez, helped Anna onto her feet.

  “And you don’t know when to quit,” she said, falling against his chest. “Thank God.”

  37

  “You came back,” said Anna. She tilted her head to gaze into his eyes.

  “Always do.”

  “Not always.”

  Sonny smiled. “Honey, don’t start.” He pressed the flap of skin above her brow and asked: “Does that hurt?”

  Reaching up, she found his hand and squeezed. “How’d you find me?”

  “Windsurfer, helicopter, kite board,” explained Sonny. “That last one was a doozy. Ended up crashing onto the conning tower of this squid. Borrowed this uniform from the guy who broke my fall. From then it was just a matter of duck and cover.”

  Anna grimaced as he applied a scrap of discarded duct tape across the gash above her eye. “Duck and cover?” she asked sucking air through her teeth.

  “Duck into the bathroom and cover the toilet bowls with rolls of tissue paper. Potty-paper salesman can unclog, or in this case, clog almost anything. You’d be surprised how fast a sub’s crew can move when they see water flooding their sleeping quarters. While they were busy looking for the source, I came hunting for you.”

  “So now what do we do?”

  He pointed at the open silo. “Thought we’d take a little spin with one of those.”

  “You’re kidding, right? You just saved me from that.”

  “Should spit us right out. Then we swim for the top. “

  Anna studied the depth gauges, frowning. “Too deep. The pressure would crush us.”

  “Maybe right now, sure. But not in a few minutes,” said Sonny, tapping the spinning dial. “Captain probably won’t risk diving until he knows where the leak is.”

  Sonny pulled her toward the vacant silo. With a growing sense of dread, Anna peered into the chamber then backed away.

  “I can’t.”

  “Try.”

  “It’s too small.”

  “You ever had an MRI? No? Then just close your eyes and count to a hundred. You’ll be out of here before you know it.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we get rescued and live happily-ever-after.”

  Taking his hands in hers, she stared at his wide, bare feet and the cuffs of the too-short sailors’ uniform.

  “Oh, Sonny. This is so hard.”

  “Piece of cake, trust me.”

  “Not that,” she said, eyeing the silo. “Us. When I wrote you that note I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  “And yet, here I am.”

  “I know. That’s what makes this all so hard. I wish I could say yes to whatever you want us to be, but…” she blinked away tears. “I—It took me too long to get over you the first time. I can’t let you break my heart, again. Please don’t think badly of me.”

  He tucked a knuckle under her chin and tilted her face to meet his. “What could you possibly say that would cause me to think less of you than I already do?”

  Anna wrinkled her forehead.

&n
bsp; “What I meant to say is there’s nothing you can say that will cause me to think less of you.”

  Pecking him quickly on the cheek, she released his hands. “Sonny, I want you to know I care for you a lot, I really do.”

  “You said love in your note.”

  “‘K, love, then. I love you. But—”

  “And I love you, too. So what’s the problem?”

  “I just can’t…bear to see you again. Not knowing how it will end for us.”

  His face broke with a toothy grin. Smothering her with a bear hug, he enveloped her with his strength and warmth. “Again? Didn’t think we were seeing each other at all.”

  “What do you call this?”

  “Ah…I dunno. A romantic escape?”

  She chuckled. “So, you’re not thinking that just because I danced, sailed, and dove with you that we’re dating, right?”

  He kissed the top of her head, stroked the small of her back. “I don’t know what you’d call this, but it’s definitely not a date. A date would involve dinner and a walk along a beach, followed by a kiss. Maybe several.” Slowly kissing her neck, throat and chin, he moved his lips to meet hers. “Like this.”

  A siren barked over the intercom. Footsteps sounded outside the torpedo bay door. Fists pounded. Sonny released her and hurried to jam one end of the metal rod in the spokes of the hatch wheel.

  “That’ll slow ‘em up,” he said, “but not for long. In you go.” He reached to help her into the silo.

  A rush of longing swept over her as she watched him fearlessly fight to save her. She seemed to be falling off a cliff and into a place where her heart would break and smash into a thousand small pieces. She took a brief look at the hatch door, and then at Sonny.

  The years had turned him soft in the middle, but hard in the areas that mattered, like in his resolve to remain with her, come back for her and his refusal to leave without her. Maybe he was the love of her life. Perhaps there never would be another who could care for and protect her, like him.

  Without her consent or will, her heart had escaped and found his, locking their souls together for this life…and the life to come.

  “How ‘bout it? Ready to take a spin?” He pointed inside the torpedo silo.

  “Sonny, with you I always felt special, cherished and pretty—even when I wasn’t.”

  “Weren’t you the one who told me that love conquers fear? If that’s true, then just love. Live your faith.”

  “Please don’t ask me to…”

  “Maybe our love can’t cure what’s killing me, but it can make us what we were created to become—soul mates.”

  She went to him, took his hand and studied the tan on his ring finger. Kissing his knuckle, she pressed his palm against her cheek. “You have no idea how long I waited, Sonny. Even in college, I kept thinking one day I’d turn a corner and there you’d be grinning at me with that crooked smile of yours. I used to lie awake at nights wondering how it would have been with us, wondering where you were, or if you were dead.”

  “Well I’m not…yet.” He kissed away her tears. The tip of his finger touched her lips, tracing the shape of her mouth.

  “I know I said earlier I was mad at you for leaving, but mostly, I was lost. It took me a long time to find out who I was without you.”

  “You don’t have to explain,” his words muffled as he pressed his face into her neck. She lifted her chin, exposing more of her throat.

  “I know it sounds silly, saying it here. Like this. But if I don’t say it now, I’ll hate myself later.” She broke free and took his face in her hands. “Sonny, you’ll never know just how much I loved you. Still do love you. You’re the half that makes me whole. But I can’t risk giving you my heart knowing that next week, next month, this Christmas, you will be gone. When I jump, I need to know there will be someone there to catch me. I’m not like you. I need security. With you, it’s jump first and find your wings on the way down. That’s what I love about you. And that’s why I fell for you so hard. Because I knew as long as you were by my side, I’d be OK. But I’m not that girl anymore, Sonny. She’s gone.”

  He bent down and, pulling her close, nuzzled his nose against her moist cheek. Her lips parted, searching for his—gliding across the wetness of her tears on his cheeks.

  The clatter of the pipe falling onto the metal grate startled her.

  Taking her by the shoulders Sonny looked into her eyes. “Anna, I know you’re scared, but I wouldn’t make you do this if it wasn’t your only chance. Trust me, this will work. Just close your eyes, crawl in, and wait. You’ll be out before you know it. Tap on the tube when you’re in position and take a deep breath. I’ll open the outer door. The water is going to come in fast. It’ll be cold. Don’t panic. Just focus on the light and exhale slowly. Once you’re clear, kick for the surface. Remember, don’t forget to exhale.”

  “But you’ll be with me, right?”

  “One of us has to stay here to press the controls. What I didn’t tell you earlier was that during my time in the army I trained for a while on a sub. Part of a recon mission. We used to do this all the time for fun. ‘Course we were younger and in better shape.”

  “I’m not leaving without you, Sonny. I can’t.”

  “I have what I came for and no one can take that from me. But we have to realistic. I’ve got maybe six weeks. You, on the other hand, you’ve still got winters in Sarasota, blue plate specials at the Waffle House, and Medicare cuts to contend with. You have that sailboat of yours, and those Haitian kids to care for. Live, Anna. Step outside the cave and take chances. Don’t waste your life on me. If you really love me, then enjoy life. I’m setting you free. Now jump.”

  He shoved her toward the silo. She slid in feet first, too numb to fight him. Already she could hear the voices of the other sailors entering the torpedo bay. The hatch clanged shut behind her. She inhaled and exhaled twice and, filling her lungs a third time, rapped her knuckles against the metal skin. Instantly she was slammed backwards by an onslaught of cold water that compacted her into a ball. For several seconds she remained stuck in the silo, buried in frigid sea water and darkness.

  Panic drove her forward.

  The turbulence of the sub’s wake thrust her down, causing her to lose all sense of direction. At last the sub’s shadow passed. Far above her, she saw grayness. Exhaling slowly, she kicked for the top.

  38

  Inside the White House Situation Room members of the National Security Council sat around the table, speaking in hushed voices. Tommy counted heads and nodded towards a U.S. Marine standing by the door. He felt a huge sense of relief to be off Cay Sal Amanda.

  The President strode in, slapping Tommy on the back. “How ‘bout them ‘Skins, Tim? Told you they’d come back.” The president directed his gaze down the table. “Twenty bucks, Connie. Come on, cough it up.”

  “You mean Washington won?” the National Security Advisor replied.

  “In overtime. Didn’t I say that Chester Holden would make one whale of a coach? Just needed a good defense. Speaking of defense, what are we looking at, Fritz?”

  The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff aimed a laser pointer toward the wall-sized display at the opposite end of the room. Where just minutes before the screen had been filled with flashing lights over foreign cities, the display now appeared empty except for a single flashing word.

  The President, squinting at the display. “Tilt?”

  “Apparently that nuclear missile we launched was a ruse. A hoax. A diversion to see how we, they, and the rest of the world would react to a nuclear war.”

  “So how’d we do?”

  “Not good, Mr. President. Not good at all.”

  “Dadgummit. I hate pop quizzes.”

  “Turns out Congressman Boggs’s cell phone was only programmed with the beta version of our missile system and didn’t have the live codes. That’s why our guys couldn’t bring that rocket back.”

  “So you’re telling me all this world war
three stuff was some silly war game exercise?”

  “Afraid so, sir.”

  “Well, did we actually launch a missile?”

  The chairman nodded. “Thankfully it landed in the Nubium Sea.”

  “That’s on the African continent, right?”

  “Moon, Mr. President. About three hundred kilometers from the Sea of Tranquility.” Shifting the laser pointer toward the Caribbean Sea, the general added, “About an hour ago we got a message from Delta Strike Team. Everyone’s safe and sound aboard the USS Nix.”

  “When can I speak to Boggs?”

  “That’s gonna be difficult, sir. We’ve launched a search and rescue mission, but given the fact that the recovery area is located under a hurricane, it may take days before they find his body.”

  “Body?”

  “The congressman fell from a helicopter while video-taping a Cuban sub with his cell phone. Tragic.”

  “Send flowers to his family just in case. We need to get ahead of this with a show of concern even though I can’t stand the conniving little punk. What about those reports of fighting in the West Bank?”

  “Just a typical day in the Gaza Strip.”

  “And those news specials that kept interrupting the football game?”

  “Overzealous reporters creating their own headlines.”

  “How ‘bout that explosion in Detroit?”

  “That one was the real deal, Mr. President. The Canadians were retaliating for our embargo on their soft timber products.”

  “Timber products?”

  “Toilet paper, sir.”

  “Might have known. Any word on your girl?”

  With an air of importance, Tommy straightened his red tie. “A Coast Guard cutter picked her up about an hour ago. Same one that flew me back to the Naval air Station in Key West. She’s safe. Only…”

  “Only what?”

  “The Cuban sub got away. Went deep before we could get a team in the water. The storm hindered our ability to track them with our sonar.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s rear about some commie sub, just as long as our girl’s safe. Does that about cover it?”

  “I think so Mr. President,” Tommy said, checking his notes.