by Tony Lavely
“What else did you talk about?”
“Not much. He planned to lead the team because he expected a fight at the end. When we talked, he hadn’t decided how best to mitigate that risk, both for the team and for the civilians.” He paused, but Beckie had nothing to say. “The agency doing this… they really allowed a live weapon?”
“They keep saying, no, it’s dead. But the way they keep saying it makes me think they’re not really sure. After all, the end client had to be convinced it could work, so… I don’t know. The woman got really nervous when I suggested we’d just ignore the restrictions and deliver it on time. More than would seem to arise from absolutely having to make a successful collar to save the south end of California.”
“You want I should catch a plane back?”
“No, I already called for Sam and a couple of his guys from Turkey, and Sue and Rich are pretty well set here, too. That way, you’ll be able to pick up the pieces if… if things happen.” She knew how macabre her laugh sounded.
“Not the role I’m best suited for, but okay. I think there’s nothing else.”
“If you think of something, you’ve got my number.”
Beckie shooed Sue and Rich onto the plane Thursday morning before Sam and his crew woke up. “We’ll be in touch every day, and if something comes up, well…”
The meeting with Sam covered the material once more; they decided to have Stacy and the Chief meet Sue and Rich in California, sending the college kids home from there. Beckie had Beth call Lisa and tell her to get herself and her family out of San Diego… Maybe go visit Wendy in Berkeley.
As for the rest, Beckie had Jean-Luc plan to bring her, Elena, Sam, Gillian and Ben to San Diego to arrive the Friday before. She put in a call to Chelsie to have the high school closed for Monday, just in case. Willie and Barbara were to hold down the fort at the Nest; in the worst case, they, Boynton and Freddie would decide what would happen to the team going forward.
Friday, Beckie, Sam and the others boarded Jean-Luc’s Gulfstream for the flight to San Diego. Once they’d landed, Beckie swore she’d never fly into Lindbergh Field again; the trip down the side of the hills to the east of the airport was too harrowing, even with Jean-Luc at the controls. They arrived in the early afternoon and went in the rental car to the campground. In her souvenir shirt and shorts Beckie sauntered past the place where the GPS said the delivery would be due. A powerboat was tied up at the dockside but no one appeared to be aboard. The name matched. She decided not to hail anyone, or try to sneak aboard.
Back at the car, she agreed when Sam said, “Elena’s going to talk to the people here about rentals. We’ll find the hotel, then Ben and I will check out another marina, close to the hotel.”
Boynton had worked his usual magic; Beckie and Sam had suites at the Coronado Marriott; Ben, Elena and Gillian, rooms. Beckie checked them all before changing into different apparel. Not expecting to be long, Beckie didn’t empty her backpack. Jean-Luc called to say he was in La Jolla, keeping their assets out of the immediate area, and the plane would be ready when they were.
A quick call from Sam sent Beckie and Gillian to the marina just down the road from them, still on Coronado Island.
“Hotel okay?”
“You’ll love it, Sam. It’s a lot different from your tent in Syria!”
He laughed, but waved her around the Glorietta Bay Marina sign and along to a powerboat. Beckie still knew just one thing about boats: they floated on water. She was pretty sure that Amy’s sailboat would have only that in common with this white beast, which looked to have more in common with the boat that had chased them that September day three years ago.
“Do I want to know what it is?” she said.
“Maybe,” Ben said. “We never saw many a these at home. It’s a Sea Ray 310.” He gave her an expectant look.
“Good job! Answered my question without telling me anything.”
“The important part is the 310, which translates to a thirty-one foot length, more or less,” Sam said, fixing Ben with a stern gaze. “It’ll take us wherever we have to go. The place on Mission Bay has Waverunners; Elena’s reserving a couple of those, too.”
“Who—”
“If Gillian brought a swim suit… Her and Elena. Or maybe Ben. Works?”
“Yeah, I think so. Do you need to go shopping, Gillian?”
“I do now.” She laughed. “Never thought I’d need a swim suit.” She glanced at Beckie, then Sam. Good, she’s focused on him as her leader. “Skimpy or…”
I can answer this—
“Let’s assume,” Sam said, “you’ll want to attract attention if the suit’s all you’re wearing. Wear a shirt over it otherwise. Make sure it’s substantial enough to survive being tossed in the water or a hand-to-hand fight. Talk to Elena since you’ll be together.” She shook her head in agreement.
Beckie gave the man a big grin. “Perfectly put, Sam, thanks.”
“Sure,” he said, though he looked a little confused. “Hop aboard and we’ll run back over to Campland; look around a little more and pick up Elena. Put on one of the vests.”
Beckie smirked at him before throwing a PFD to him as well.
The eighteen nautical mile trip north to Mission Bay, and then catty-corner across the bay to within a couple hundred yards of the powerboat that Beckie’d seen before took forty-five minutes, as Sam felt out the boat and the 5 MPH speed limits. They stopped at the marina at Campland to collect Elena; she’d arranged for the Waverunners she and Gillian would use the next day; they’d surveil the Merri Soo. Beckie said, “Let’s head back for today. We can go shopping, get some food and think about the way this will play out.”
On the way back, Beckie’s phone rang; Beth told her that while Lisa had indeed sent her family to visit Wendy, the girl herself could be found at the hotel, waiting for them. Beckie’s eyes rolled so far she wondered if they’d stick like her mom had threatened her, then decided, no, of course not. Will Elena still be mad if I beat up on her again? Yeah, probably. So, a little calm. “Take it easy going back,” she said to Sam. “I need to relax before finding Lisa Grove camped outside our door.”
Sam’s laugh began as soon as she’d explained, and continued until Beckie went below decks to consider her options.
She came up as they passed under the Coronado Bridge and gave Sam a rude gesture when his face broke into a wide grin. “Take us down the harbor a little further, Cap’n. We ought to be able to see the Vinson at dock.”
The Carl Vinson was indeed tied up, and big, even if Beckie had realized their thirty-one foot motorboat would be no conceivable yardstick. She towered above them, even out near the middle of the channel, as close as Sam was willing to approach. They hadn’t needed to cruise down the harbor to see her.
Elena took Ben and Gillian to discuss the plan for arming the Sea Ray and how they would lay out the next day’s work. Beckie looked a question at Sam; he nodded, which she took to mean he was okay with that division.
Back in the hotel, Beckie expected to find Lisa out front, but no. Good, she did use her good sense. But no. In the lobby, the man behind the desk said, “Mrs. Jamse?” When Beckie stopped and nodded, he pointed toward the bar across the lobby. Beckie could see strawberry-blonde hair over the sofa.
“I’ll see you in a couple minutes, Sam,” she said as she tipped her head in Lisa’s direction. He chuckled as he agreed.
She slipped in behind Lisa. “You know, there’s a penalty for not doing as you’re told. Just like school. Or your folks.”
Lisa shot up; her head nearly smashed Beckie’s nose on the way by. When she’d fallen back, she spun on the cushion to gape at Beckie. “You… You wouldn’t… I mean…”
Beckie decided the girl’s obvious distress was sufficient for the time being; she took her hand and lifted her. “I think we’ll go outside where no one can hear you scream… So clearly, at least.” She laughed at Lisa’s expression, even more down-hearted than it had been. “Com’on. You’ve got E
lena to protect you, so don’t worry.”
The gazebo was empty, so Beckie pushed Lisa ahead of her into it.
“Now, Beth was supposed to tell you to get the hell out of Dodge. Why are you still here? And your family?”
“Don’t go blaming Beth! She did just that. I chose to stay, but Mom and Dad… Yeah, I got them to go up north to visit Wendy.”
“And who’s gonna keep them from coming back a day too soon? That’s the other part of the task I gave you.”
“I know. Beth said that. I told Wendy enough that she’ll make sure they are safe. She’ll be, too.”
Beckie took a seat, foot up tucked against her thigh. She leaned back and sighed. “I’ll only tell you this once. Your independence and arrogance… balls, if you will… are a big part of why I said let’s give you a chance. However, you have to be really fucking careful about using them.” She rubbed her eyes and fought for breath. Lisa sat, her confusion manifest. “Remember what I told you? My arrogance is what got my love killed, dead. Not doing what we agreed because I knew what the right thing to do was.”
“Oh… That’s not…” Lisa sat up straight; Beckie felt her hand grabbed and looked down. “Beth and Amy told me what they understood happened, and that you haven’t gotten over that part of Mr. Jamse’s death. The guilt part, I mean. I don’t think…” She blushed. “… that I’ll do what Amy said to do if it came up.”
Beckie blushed too, trying to think what her ‘sister’ might have thought an adequate response. “Which was?”
“I… I mean… I’d never… First she said ‘turn her over your knee,’ but then she laughed and said, no, just slap her face…hard.”
Beckie held out her hands. “Com’ere.” Once she had the girl in a warm hug, she said, “I guess you can see what kind of relationship she and I have.” She leaned back to stare in Lisa’s eyes. “But what matters is not our relationship, but… what?”
“It’s the kind of relationship I’d kill for,” Lisa said, but then she colored again. “Figuratively, of course!”
“Of course,” Beckie agreed with a laugh, then sobered. “No matter what Amy and Beth believe, or how they interpret what I told them, I was responsible for doing my own thing, and it got Ian, the man I love, it got him killed.”
Lisa dropped to sit a little away from Beckie. “Someone wondered… They weren’t sure you weren’t compensating for something…”
Beckie fell back against the wall. What the fuck… What could I possibly be compensating for? The short scene in Shrek roared into her memory. No! No fucking way! I’m… diminutive, not… The concept smacked her. Of course, if I’m afraid to say it… Short. I’m short. Not tall! Vertically challenged. See?
She came back from her internal diatribe to notice Lisa scuttling away from her. “Hey.”
Lisa flinched, then stared at her. “Amy said when you get that look on your face, it’s best to move back a little.”
“That look?” Beckie wondered just what expression she’d had. Well, you know, Beck, the only expression Amy’d describe that way. She took two deep breaths and forced calm through her mind, then body. “She’s probably right, except in this case, it’s not directed at you. Believe me.” She slid forward and grabbed Lisa’s hands. “I don’t think whoever said that is entirely accurate, but we probably don’t need to discuss that here.
“For today, what we do need to talk about… well, what you need to understand is… keep your independence, your arrogance, your inability to believe you can be wrong. Learn to temper that with reasoned thought, with learned wisdom, so you can make good decisions. Remember what Amy told you: you only get one chance at these life-altering choices, and no way to see in advance how your choice will work out.
“Now, is there something you wanted to say before I kick your ass—”
“You can’t!”
“Sure I can. I’m the perfect height to do it just right. But you didn’t let me finish: before I kick your ass and call Sam to see how we can best use your innocence and naïveté.” She grinned at the girl’s embarrassment. “What, you expected ‘out,’ right? Not unless there’s nothing you can do. I won’t sacrifice you just to make you feel better, but if we can take advantage of you, I will.”
“Oh…”
“In fact, I know one thing you can do almost immediately… You have a car here?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Gillian needs to go shopping. Maybe some of the others do, too. Now, do you have anything to say first?”
“I don’t think so. The Vinson is leaving here Monday, but you know that already. So, nothing else.”
“You’re sure Wendy’ll keep your folks away til Tuesday at least?”
“I told her enough to make her spitting mad I wasn’t coming with them, but she’s lived with me since Mr. Jamse saved her. She knows I’m obsessed, so she just told me I’d better not die, or I’d have her to contend with.”
“After me. And the Grove sisters have nothing on me, believe me. Okay. Up and let’s make Sam laugh once more.” She spent the walk to her suite explaining why Sam would find merriment in their situation.
Her keycard didn’t work when she reached the door she recalled; a trip to the desk provided the information that Sam had arranged for her to move to a villa. “I’ll take that up with him,” she said as the man made her a new keycard. “Let me have one for her, too.” She tapped Lisa on the arm.
After the man handed the cards over, along with directions to her new ‘room,’ Beckie led the way to Sam’s suite. “Okay, Captain, bring your crew down and we’ll converse in my new room.” As he waved to the others, she said, “The rationale for changing my room, Cap?”
“Elena and I were pretty sure you’d not want to share your bed with this youngster,” he said, patting Lisa atop the head. His chuckle took any sting out of the words. Once Beckie’d closed her mouth, that is. When she glanced at Lisa, she’d had the same reaction. “The villa’s not only got a little more privacy, it’s got a pull-out sofa bed, and it’ll be easier to work there.”
“Yeah. Now if I believed any of that…”
She opened the door and ushered everyone in. “Guys, meet Lisa Grove. Apprentice. Not old enough to drink, but she can sign up to throw her lot in with us. She can drink with us if she wants to. Speaking of which, I’ll have some wine tonight.”
Sam picked up the phone before she could continue. “Same again?”
“That’d be fine. Same for Lisa, if I recall correctly. Okay Lisa, your turn. Sam Dabron. He’s my second here. Ben Daley and Gillian Bespar are part of his crew. Now, take a couple minutes to introduce yourself, rather than have me think up lies you’ll have to live up to. Elena, keep her honest.”
That exercise took almost ten minutes; it ended with the knock on the door announcing the arrival of a variety of libations that included a bottle of California Chardonnay that Beckie recognized. Her wide smile produced an equal one on Sam’s face. He opened the bottle and poured two glasses before distributing the others.
Sipping very slowly—she didn’t plan on dying this week, so had no excuse for the baby if she had more than one—Beckie went over the meetings they’d all had since Lisa had left at the beginning of the week. Elena pointed out a couple of things that she thought had been sloughed over in Beckie’s review and clarified them. Lisa asked a few questions related to the weapon Chelsie had avoided; Beckie rewarded her with the same non-information she’d been given.
“Okay for now. It’s Friday evening. Gillian and maybe Elena and Ben need swimsuits. Lisa, can you take them to a convenient mall where they can address that wardrobe shortage?”
“Yeah, that’s easy. You’ll all fit in my car, too.”
“No!” Beckie said. “One of you guys drive; she finished her wine. Hurry back; we’ll wait dinner for a while.”
“Yeah. It’ll be MacDonalds, right?”
About eleven-thirty, the four returned bearing three pizzas along with Elena’s concern that Millie should be advis
ed of the risk, and asked if she would consider flying out, “just in case we live, but get injured.”
Beckie thought for about a second before agreeing—she’d already planned not to die, but she really expected a bad reception when they did arrive with the package. “Good idea! I’ll call her in the morning. And give Jean-Luc the chance to fly back and pick her up tomorrow if she’s willing.”
Sam leaned back on the sofa. “You should send Jean-Luc now; she won’t turn you down. It’s all I can do to get her to sleep in Syria, working on everyone in the medical facility.”
“When we’re out of here, let’s sit and talk. I want to know better how we can help them out. Maybe create some infrastructure that won’t get bombed all to hell and gone. Since, you know, the politicians are not noticeably interested in finding a peaceful solution.”
Gillian handed her a box of pizza. “I for one will make sure that happens. Stacy, too. We’re sick and tired of civilians getting killed and injured for… for nothing!”
“Thanks. Right now, I’m going for a report from Sue.”
Elena dropped into a chair. “Damn. I forgot about Sue being on the road. She can take care of most injuries we’d be likely to have; keep Millie safer.”
“I’ll talk to Millie anyway,” Beckie said. In another five minutes she’d connected with the van somewhere in Wisconsin, one of the relief drivers had said. Everything was going quietly. She silently hoped for that to continue.
Raptor Five
Of course Sam was right, Beckie reflected in the morning after talking to Millie, who even as they spoke had begun lining up supplies and a nurse to bring along. “I’m going to trust you guys to keep the big bad from causing too much trouble,” she’d said. Beckie felt that responsibility, too.
The rest of Saturday was quiet. Normal, even, by most measures. Along with Lisa, Gillian and Elena were showing off their new bathing suits while driving their personal watercraft all over Mission Bay, at the same time making sure that the suspicious powerboat remained exactly that: unmanned, quiet and suspicious. Wearing her high school track shirt over far too skimpy swim suit bottoms, Lisa had asked about the Merri Soo, making the excuse that it looked like one a friend’s father owned, but aside from the obvious, no one in the office shared more information.