He and his wife were off the boat in less than an hour. Before they left I gave them twenty thousand dollars and told them to keep their mouths shut.
Now I was in a pickle and had to find a capable captain who could run a one-hundred footer. Just as I was calling the hotel, Bob and Karen come in. I told them the story about the captain walking off the job.
“I can run this boat,” Bob said, surprising the hell out of me.
I gave him a hard look. “We have to leave now and get out to sea. And Bob, I have lots of guns and ammo on board.” When he didn’t blink an eye, I added, “If you run the boat for six months and leave your boat here I will give you five hundred thousand dollars plus pay for the upkeep for the boats. plus I will pay you and Karen double the going rate per month But we must leave in the next hour.”
Bob looked at Karen and back at me and again at his wife, then turned to me and stuck out his hand.
I shook his hand and said, “Let’s go.”
We left in an hour counting loading their clothes and some essential belongings from their boat to ours.
I didn’t relax until we got out to sea where I could see for miles in all directions, reassuring me that no one was chasing us.
We cruised the rest of the day at ten knots and toward dark Captain Bob went under Seven Mile Bridge to a marina he had contacted that had a slip open on the “T” of one dock, “Bay Side Marina.”
As we pulled in, a guy who turned out to be the owner came down to help us tie up and check in. A half dozen or so people from other boats helped out also, as boat people are generally helpful and gregarious.
Later that night over drinks Captain Bob told me the complete story and history of Bay Side Marina and all the people who were found dead over the years. This bay was into smuggling drugs like Florida City had been into smuggling grass in days gone by. A couple of boaters had been here for fifteen or twenty years and had seen it all.
We were only going to stay at Bay Side for two or three days, then go north. After hearing everybody’s stories, we left and took the outside up to Ft. Lauderdale. Captain Bob got us a slip at a marina seven miles up New River on County Road 84 or Marina Mile as it’s called. Marina Bay was fairly new with two hundred plus slips, four hundred apartments, a gym, a restaurant, a bar and many more amenities. It was a good place, a safe place, especially for the kids, and most of all, it wasn’t Miami. We would be safe for two or three months, then it would be summer again so we could move on.
In several months we got to know the people on the dock and felt at ease. We rarely had people on board though, as that was where the kids were tutored and was our home.
One day Captain Bob came to me and told me my son had slipped up and told his playmates that he had a fake name.
“If your boy slips up and the wrong person hears that, we could be toast,” Bob said. “I’m not getting paid enough to put my life in the hands of a kid.”
He said he had to sleep on the question of staying with me or not, plus he wanted to talk things over with Karen, whose life was also on the line.
The next morning over coffee he said he was in, but he and Karen deserved to be compensated properly for the risks they’d be taking. He wanted a million dollars every six months not five hundred thousand.
I agreed and gave him a check from my boat account. He also said I must talk to my boy to make sure he didn’t repeat that mistake again.
All went well for two months, then summer started to creep forward. It was time to leave, and I decided to head for Mazatlan, Mexico and spend a few months there. Within a couple of days of getting there, a well-dressed American walked over to the side of my boat and asked to talk to me.
When I came to the gang plank I asked him quietly, “What can I do for you?”
He handed me a card that indicated he was an attorney.
“Well, Mr. Blair, what can I do for you?”
“I would rather get off the dock and talk in private to you. It concerns Miami and who you are.”
We just stood there and looked at each other for a minute or two and did not say a word. Then I broke the silence and invited him on board to talk.
I poured him a glass of vodka on the rocks and we sat in the main salon facing each other.
“What do you want and how can I help you?” I opened the conversation.
“I have a client that’s a Mexican company, and though it is located in Texas, they have offices in every state in the U.S., especially Florida and the east coast, including New York. My point is, they want you to be in charge of a certain, ah, thing. For them, this one thing, and all is forgiven. You can walk away afterward.”
As we looked at each other I said, “Continue.”
“You do understand that your and your family’s lives depend on your answer.”
“What if this one deal is unsuccessful?”
“That doesn’t matter,” he said, “It’s trying that counts. So what’s it going to be? Should I tell you, or do you want to take your chances with the other thing?”
“I’m in.”
“The cartel will call your slate clean if you raid the DEA warehouse in Tucson where they have tons of grass and thousands of pounds of cocaine and meth, plus one hundred guns and twenty well-armed men.”
After he finished telling me all this I said, “You must be shitting me. This is a suicide mission. None of the stash houses for the DEA have ever been hit and there’s a reason for that. It’s called twenty men wearing SWAT gear, AR-15s and big clip side arms, cameras and fences, etc, etc, etc.”
When I was finished he calmly said, “We know all that. That’s why they sent me to talk to you instead of a hit team for everyone aboard. So fly to Tucson and we’ll have a man meet you that’s been watching the warehouse for months with the layout and schedule. Say I meet you here in two weeks. Call me if you need me.”
And I showed him to the dock. Later that day I made a first class reservation to Tucson, AZ for a one week stay and got the hotel and rental car set up. Upon arriving in Tucson, I called the number of the man here to meet me, and we drove to the DEA warehouse.
After spending several hours looking things over and picking the brain of the Tucson contact I went back to the hotel to sit and think. Later that night I drove out to the warehouse again and just watched the comings and goings at it. There wasn’t much activity at night and none after midnight.
By what I saw, the warehouse must be taken at night. The problem would be the night people and their cell phones. Somehow they must be taken by total surprise or put to sleep. There were cameras and lights on all sides and on the building that was on the corner. Their eighteen-wheeler was parked in the yard waiting for the next load to go to the incinerator.
I came up with a plan that would work— maybe but it needed an inside man or a tap on the cell phones and phone lines. I called the number on the card and set up a meeting with the attorney.
I told him at the meeting that I needed a few things that I could not get here. I need six men, all ex-soldiers, four RPGs and twelve rockets, seven M16s with six clips each, seven full sets of SWAT body armor that say DEA front and back including the helmets and a wiretap expert to tap the phone lines until we get the passwords etc. I need the phone line expert first about a month before the others. I will get apartments for them to stay in, cars, vans and so on.
At this point he asked, “Can you do this thing?”
I answered, “Yeah, you bet. It’s hard but they are all fat and lazy and secure in their feelings. They are safe because they are cops. Get me a wiretap expert and let’s see how secure they are.”
It took a month for the wiretap expert to arrive in Tucson. He came from New York and set up off a telephone pole a block or two away from the warehouse and could get all incoming and outgoing calls.
He had all we needed in two weeks so we could get past the night people with passwords.
When the night came, I dressed in old street clothes, then headed out to organize my setu
p. I put my people in the van and took two in my car where I cuffed them together as my fake prisoners. The rest of my team wore the DEA SWAT team black armor suits. They went to the gate and called in using the passwords, saying we had two prisoners and several hundred pounds of cocaine.
The gate opened, and we drove into the loading dock. We unloaded my decoy prisoners, and all five of us started walking toward the two real DEA guards holding M16s.
It was easy to disarmed them, and as we cuffed them up, we ignored their cries of you can’t do this we are cops, the DEA, and we’re protected by Homeland Security.
I said, “Shut up and tell me how many others are here and where they are.” Then I hit him in the face, breaking out several teeth.
The other one screamed, “You can’t do that to us, we are cops.”
I stepped up to him and said, “Oh yes I can and right now I am trying to decide whether to kill both of you or leave you tied up here. I haven’t decided yet, but if you lie to me or give me any shit I will kill you both slowly.
“No one’s here,” one of them replied so I had them take off their outerwear which I gave to my two pretend prisoners who dressed in the real cops’ armor plated DEA clothes. I handed over the DE’’ RPGs to my guys, then we searched the place and cut the phone lines.
The warehouse was chock full so one of the men backed the eighteen-wheeler up to the loading dock and started to load pallet after pallet of cocaine and meth first, then pills and only then the grass. When it was full to the top I sent four men to take it to Rocky Point to hide it.
The two who stayed with me both had M16s plus an RPG each. I sent them to the van saying I would be there in minute, arriving where the two DEA agents were trussed up on the floor.
I took out a 9-mm, one of theirs, and said, “I made up my mind. If I kill you, the cops will never stop looking for us. So it would be wise to leave you here alone. But I was never that smart.” I shot one in the head with his own gun.
The other one begged and pleaded, saying he had kids, tried to roll around, but I shot him anyhow, first in the face as he was pissing his pants, then in the top of his head.
I had the two men drop me off at my hotel. I changed into a suit and went to the airport and caught my flight to Mazatlan and the boat.
The attorney called and set up another meeting. Before he hung up I asked, “Did you get it?”
He replied, “All is well. Don’t worry.”
When he arrived at my boat, we sat across from one another.
“You are paid in full,” he said. “My clients got four times more than they expected. They are very happy. In fact they are so happy that they want you to do one more job, and they will pay you whatever you want. This job will be the last one. They also want you to teach their lead man how to do it.”
“You said I was free and clear if I did just one deal,” I said.
”Yes but you killed two cops. They didn’t count on that. Now the law will never stop looking for us. Just show the man how and leave.”
I knew I didn’t have a choice but to agree. They would kill me and my family, so I had to buy some time to get my escape plans together.
“OK,” I said. “One last deal to show them how to do it and I’m free to leave.
“They will pay you,” he said.
“Are you kidding me? I have hundreds of millions of dollars so I don’t want any money! I just want to be left alone, and after this I will be! Come hell or high water! So which place?”
He didn’t answer at first.
“Do you know which place they want me to do next?” I asked.
“El Paso.”
“El Paso? Are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?”
He nodded.
“Holy shit!” The DEA evidence warehouse in El Paso was notorious for having several hundred million dollars of confiscated drugs just waiting to be liberated. “It’s guarded worse than Fort Know,” I said.
“Yeah, but if anybody can do it, you’re the guy.”
I sat quietly for a long moment, thinking about El Paso. The job was intriguing, and he knew it.
“OK,” I finally said. “Send a man to tap the phones, and I’ll meet up with him in a week to a month to see if it can be done.”
CHAPTER 9
About a month later I had a second meeting at my boat with their attorney.
“That place cannot be taken at night,” I said, “or any other time because there are always ten or fifteen cops around. The only way is to take them out is when they are on the road to the incinerator. I just can’t abide thinking about all those drugs going up in flames,” I said. “A job like this will entail lots of killings and I’ll need lots of equipment. Expensive equipment.”
He nodded, so I rattled off what I’d need. “A dual blade heavy lift helicopter with six men in bullet proof SWAT gear and four RPG’s with eight rockets for them and six M16’s with six clips each and six side arms with two clips each.”
The attorney didn’t blink, so I continued.
“If they can supply that, I can do this deal. Call me when they have the list complete.”
Over the next several weeks they hemmed and hawed about the heavy lift helicopter, trying to get me to tell them what I needed it for. I simply told them my plan would not work without it.
Finally they said they had it all together, including the copter.
I told them I needed six men who were soldiers of fortune with former careers in the military, and I needed a training place in the desert. A place with a bunk house, a cook house and a gun range. I told them I would need this for a month once we were all there. I would also need one million dollars in cash to give out as I saw fit.
When all six men arrived, I assembled them and said, “Thank you for putting up with the blindfolds and secrecy. You will each get a thousand dollars just to listen to me. Those of you who decide to stay and do this thing will get ten thousand dollars, and if we are successful, you will each get two hundred thousand at the end.”
Six pair of eyes stared steadily at me. “I take it you want to hear more. First, if you decide to say “no” when you find out what it entails, I will give you the one thousand dollars and have you taken back to your car with no hard feelings. But if you decide to stay and go through the training, and you change your mind, your people will never hear from you again.”
I looked from one man to the other. They barely blinked.
“Okay. So here’s the deal. We are going to kill a minimum of six cops. We are going to steal drugs. We will have any equipment or guns we need. We will be hung by a tether five hundred feet in the air. If you decide to stay, the ten thousand dollars in cash will be delivered to anybody you choose with a note from you that will read: don’t tell anybody about this and don’t try to contact me. I will be home in six weeks with two hundred thousand dollars.
“There are no cell phones, no cameras, no alcohol or drugs and no fights. If you are caught with or do any of these things, I will kill you, and the Mexicans will kill your families, so be sure you are in all the way. I’ll be back in one half hour for your decision.” I headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
When I got back, I queried each one. All decided to stay. I then had them drop their cell phones in a bucket of water and told them to write down who they wanted to get the ten grand, with the address of where to deliver it.
“Your bunks are over there in that building,” I said, pointing in the right direction. “The cook is American and will make anything you want! By the way, you can have beer but nothing stronger or you don’t want to be here. “
In the morning at seven, I ate breakfast with them. Once we were finished with bacon, eggs and hash browns, I started briefing them.
“We are going to rob the DEA and kill six or more of them. A heavy lift helicopter with a cargo net is our escape. We will fill it with drugs first, but we will have all the tools to get away. If you are afraid of heights this is not the deal for you.
&nbs
p; I looked around and seeing no objections, I continued. “You are going to find yourselves five hundred feet in the air hanging from the copter by a tether. We will each have an M16 and a Glock 17 side arms and two RPs and four rockets each. We’ll also have two stinger ground-to-air missiles. The cargo nets will hold up to ten thousand pounds each. Don’t forget we need to have room for our weight. We will have SWAT team bullet proof suits and white hockey masks to distinguish ourselves from the enemy. We’ll wear rubber gloves so we can’t be recognized or traced. Each of us we will have hands free CBs that only talk to each other. If we have time we will take two loads and go with the last load.
“Now, has anybody changed their mind after hearing the rest of the story?”
“Well,” one of them said, “I might change my mind knowing that we may only get to kill six DEA cops.”
All the mercenaries laughed.
“After you finish up your coffee, if you don’t have any questions,” I continued, “we will get fitted for our SWAT gear and harnesses for the hook up to the cargo net. The spring loaded hooks will be on your back and long enough for you to reach and hook them up. I’ll be with you all the way there and back. The seamstress is here, so who’s first for a fit up?”
“Is she cute?” one of them asked.
“Yes, for a seventy-year-old grandmother,” I answered with a straight face.
“I’ll go last,” he laughed.
I clapped him on the back, heartened that my team had a good sense of humor.
After two weeks of training with all the equipment and flying around at five hundred feet on the cargo net, like the dirty dozen, we were ready to go.
We had hours not days once we got the word from our wiretap man that the DEA was moving confiscated drugs to the incinerator.
I finally got the call saying our target was on the move.
Our job started now.
We knew that the DEA had two men in the trailer with full tactical gear and M16s and side arms and four fully armed men in the lead car and the same in the chase car.
Smugglers 3 Accidental Kingpin Page 7