by David Wood
But a few minutes of thorough searching later and Odelin had nothing to show for it but a pair of bloody gloves. Frustrated, he stripped them off and tossed them unceremoniously onto the deceased before exiting the van.
He told his men to wait while he walked to the nearest dwelling, a dilapidated mobile home that happened to have electricity and running water, utilities that were not a given in this part of the world. Used as a low key safe house for his organization, Odelin detested the ramshackle place but found it to be an effective lair in which to lay low and get things done from time to time.
Once inside, he locked the door behind him. He cursed at the rats that scurried off at his sudden approach before making his way into the kitchen. For some reason this is where the phone was kept, something about it being the only accessible point where the illicit wiring job could be tapped into the mains. He opened a cabinet and took down the pushbutton landline telephone.
Odelin dialed from memory and when the other end picked up, he said without preamble, “He doesn’t have it.”
A pregnant pause ensued during which Odelin could sense his superior’s disappointment.
“What steps are you taking?”
“I have my men searching the church and the priest’s home as we speak. I will let you know the second they find anything.”
“See that you do.”
The words were direct enough, but Odelin recognized them for the threat they were and shivered as he replaced the handset in the cradle.
See that you do. He flashed on the times former associates of his had heard that same phrase and then failed to deliver. He watched a cockroach scurry up the wall and into a crack where the wall met the ceiling. He would be living like that, too, if this search didn’t pan out—running for cover of darkness for the rest of his short-lived days.
He picked up the phone again and dialed a new number. He had already told his man to report in after the search had been completed, but that was when he had thought he would hit paydirt on Abbe’s body. He had been all but certain the priest would not allow something so important to ever be out of his direct possession, especially after being confronted about it. But he had thought wrong.
It was time to find out how the other search was progressing.
Chapter 4
Cherokee, North Carolina
Maddock pulled in to the parking lot of the Cherokee Suites. He cut the engine of his '75 Bronco and took in the pitiful site—faded paint, sagging roof, cracked windows. He shook his head at Bones’ living situation. This was no place for a seasoned and talented warrior of Bones’ caliber. But his friend had to want to take steps, and that’s why Maddock had come. His former comrade in arms hadn’t been interested in his business proposition last night in the casino, but maybe now, after some time to reflect and calm down a bit, he would be open to reason.
He found the room number Angel had given him and knocked on the door. Hopefully Bones wouldn’t be still in bed with one of his hookups. Something told Maddock his friend’s mood was too dark lately for such frivolity. A few seconds came and went. Maddock knocked again.
“Unless you’re a hooker, go away. I don’t need to find Jesus and I don’t need housekeeping.”
Maddock smirked. “I’m sure it’s a pigsty in there, Bones. Open up.”
Maddock heard the thump of feet hitting the floor and stomping across the room. The door cracked and the Indian’s face looked out at Maddock from behind his unkempt hair. “Get your own room, Maddock, they’ve got vacancies. You’ll love it. These twin beds are like king size luxury mattresses compared to the barracks cots.”
“Yeah, I remember your feet always used to hang off. How’s the flea situation?”
“They don’t eat too much.”
“That’s good. Can I come in for a few minutes?”
Bones undid the security chain and pulled the door open. He stood aside while Maddock entered, took in the gloomy, disheveled look of the place at a glance, and then opened the curtain. Bones closed the door and squinted at Maddock. “Too bright.”
“Since I’m hoping you’ll see that light, that works for me.” Maddock took one of the two chairs at the little round table in front of the room’s only window and turned one of them toward his friend.
“Sit. Hear me out.”
“Is this about that treasure stuff you were blabbing about last night?”
“Yes. But I’m not just talking about it, Bones. I’m doing it. I already bought the boat and the equipment. Now I’m looking for a qualified partner, preferably one I’ve worked with before.”
Bones said nothing, but Maddock took solace in the fact that he wasn’t laughing yet. And he couldn’t really blame him if he did. It was a common reaction Maddock got from a lot of people. Treasure hunting, huh? He could hear the doubt lurking in their voices, practically hear them saying, Why don’t you just get a real job? None of them knew the first thing about treasure hunting, though, especially underwater treasure hunting. But Bones did, even if he acted like he didn’t give a damn.
“What kind of boat you get?”
Maddock grinned. Finally he was getting somewhere. “You remember Marco Cosenza’s boat?”
Recognition took hold over Bone’s features. “The Sea Foam?”
Maddock smiled and nodded.
Bones looked incredulous. “That old scow?”
“One and the same.” Maddock’s thoughts flashed to a whirlwind adventure through and beneath the streets of Boston in search of Paul Revere’s famous lanterns. The distant look in Bones’ eyes told him his friend was doing the same.
“I’ve done a lot of work on her: overhauled the engine, new wiring, fresh bottom paint, retrofitted with state-of-the-art electronics...”
“So you’re saying that ship is dependable and ready to go? Because I don’t have a Sea Tow membership.”
“She’s more than up to the task, Bones. The question is...are you?”
Bones looked around the dingy room. “It’ll be tough to give all this up, but...” His eyes lingered on a pile of empty beer cans on the floor, a hard liquor bottle among them. “But okay, I’m in.”
Maddock gave him a hard stare. “Don’t just say ‘I’m in’. This is a serious commitment.”
“Uh oh. I’ve heard that before.”
“This is a partnership. I’ve already paid for the major stuff we’ll need up front, but I’ll need you to carry your financial weight going forward. Fuel, repairs, permits...”
“...hookers, blow. Priorities, Maddock.”
“You’ll need to give it your all. That’s all I ask.”
Bones stood, folded his arms, and frowned.” It sounds workable, but there’s one problem.”
“And that is?”
“I’m not sure I can handle you being my boss.”
“I won’t be your boss, I’ll be your partner. I can’t do this myself. I spent everything I saved up while in the Navy on the boat and startup costs. Besides, when things get heavy, there’s no one I can count on more than you. You’ve proven that time and again. That’s why I’m here. There’s no shortage of guys who would go in on this with me, but I know you can do it.”
Bones moved to the window and stared through the dirt-smudged glass. “You’ve got a better opinion of me than I do.”
“That wasn’t always the case.”
Bones chuckled. “Only because I thought you were an ass. Still do, just as not as big of one as before.”
“That’s the spirit. Seriously, though. You’re at your best when you’re under pressure or doing something that matters. This life isn’t you.”
“I said I’m in. No need to get all Sigmund Freud on me.” He turned to face Maddock. “Lucky for you, I didn’t drink all the money I earned in the service, and Charlie’s treated me okay. I’ll put in all I’ve got.”
Maddock nodded. “Hopefully we can get some of the old gang in on it at least on a part-time basis. I gave Willis a call and he said he’s game. Apparently, he hasn’t been
able to find steady work in Detroit.”
“At least there’ll be somebody else on the crew who doesn’t have a stick up his butt.” Bones smiled. “I know we’re partners, but I’m going to go ahead and make an executive decision.”
Maddock raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“I know which treasure I want to hunt for first.”
Chapter 5
Atlantic Ocean
The prow of the Sea Foam sliced effortlessly through the choppy seas. Maddock manned the helm, alternating his gaze from the horizon to the chart plotter on the console in front of him. “Now leaving the Florida Keys behind, headed for Cuba, then on to Haiti.” It felt good to be at sea. The cool, salty air filled his nostrils, eliciting memories of his youth growing up on the Florida coast. Even better, they weren’t heading into danger on a military expedition.
Bones eyed the electronic map from his position in the co-pilot’s seat. “How about we make a quick stop in Key West for the Duval Crawl, hit the Hog’s Breath Saloon?”
Maddock frowned. “How about you stay focused, and if we score treasure we can hang out in the Keys on the way back.”
“Man, we’re gonna hold you to that, Maddock.” The gruff voice of Willis Sanders walking into the cockpit cut in to the conversation. A fellow SEAL from their shared time in the Navy, Willis had joined Dane and Bones on more than one of their globe-trotting adventures. The tall, dark-skinned man nearly matched Bones in height and bulk. The top of his shaved head fell just a couple of inches short of Bones full height. He was currently in between assignments and agreed to join Maddock and Bones on this venture.
Maddock nodded and turned to his friends. “We’ve got some open water cruising ahead of us. Let me use some of the time to brief you on what I’ve learned so far about our target, the wreck of the San Miguel.”
“I already know this crap. Do I have to listen?” Bones asked.
Maddock shot him a withering glance, and Willis and Bones gave him their attention as he began his summation. “The San Miguel was part of the legendary 1715 Treasure Fleet. A Spanish Crown flotilla consisting of a dozen ships, all but one of them were lost in a storm—a hurricane, probably—on the east coast of Florida, near present day Vero Beach.”
Maddock looked over from the wheel. His audience showed no signs of boredom yet, so he continued. “The one ship thought to escape the storm, the San Miguel, has never been found.”
“Spill the beans, Maddock, what were they carrying?” Willis wanted to know.
“Silver and gold. Lots of it,” Bones answered.
Maddock nodded. “Some treasure from this fleet has already been found. In fact, every now and then a coin, like a silver real—with the bust of the king on one side and the Crown’s shield on the other— will wash up on the beach in Florida today.”
Bones made a show of looking around the cramped quarters of the vessel, the open sea beyond. “You mean we could just lay around on the beach and wait for these things to wash up with a drink in our hand, watching the babes go by?”
Maddock smiled. “I’m hoping to speed things up by taking a more proactive approach. So back to the San Miguel...people have searched for her, but to date no trace of her has ever been found.”
Willis looked puzzled. “So what do we have to go on that no one else does?”
Bones answered him with a sly grin. “Fabiola Baptiste. You remember her?”
Willis laughed. “Fabi Babi?”
Maddock looked away from the wheel long enough to say, “I dare you to call her that to her face.”
Fabiola had been in the Navy as a database programmer during the three SEALs’ tenure
“Word is, Bones is the one who said things to her face, ain’t that right? She’s your ex?”
“She’s not an ex, she’s an occasional.”
“Damn, that’s cold. So what’s she got to do with all this?”
Maddock made a slight adjustment to the boat’s course, and then steered the conversation back on track as well. “She lives in Miami,” he said, jerking a thumb behind them, “but she’s in Haiti now because she has relatives there. She contacted Romeo, here, because she received interesting information from a priest in Haiti, one who happens to be her cousin.”
Skepticism painted Willis’ face. “Why don’t we just deal with the priest directly?” He turned to Bones. “No offense, Fabi’s great and all, but let’s cut out the middlewoman, know what I’m saying? Loose lips sink ships and all that.”
Bones shook his head. “We can’t contact the priest, David Abbe, because he’s dead.”
Willis cocked his head. “You try some voodoo stuff? It is Haiti, after all.”
Maddock addressed him with a stern look. “He was murdered a week ago. It was ugly. Vicious.”
Willis lowered his gaze. “You know I wouldn’t joke like that in front of Fabi.”
Maddock continued. “Here’s what we do know: She received some information from her cousin, the Haitian priest, which frightened and confused her to the point where she called Bones for advice.”
Willis chuckled. “Damn. She must have been scared all right. Who in their right mind calls Bones for advice?”
“Screw you, Willis. Fabi thinks she's in danger because of some information that came into her hands.”
Willis threw up his hands. “You guys keep talking about ‘some information’. What information?”
Bones leveled his gaze at Willis. “About the location of the wreck of the San Miguel.”
Chapter 6
Petit-Trou-de-Nippes, Haiti
The scene was like something out of a postcard. Sugary sand beach lined with palms, one of them leaning way out over the turquoise, sun-dappled water. No tourist crowds. But just out of sight beyond the natural beauty lay a colder reality to the island, a poor community, many of whom struggled to get by on a daily basis. Amidst this contradiction in terms sat the Sea Foam, lying at anchor not far off the beach.
Maddock, Bones and Willis rode the Sea Foam’s dinghy to the beach in order to meet Fabi Baptiste. They found her waiting for them, as promised, at a small outdoor cafe on the side of the road fronting the beach. It was a local place, not a tourist establishment, not that there was a whole lot of tourism in Haiti compared to other Caribbean islands.
African and French on her father's side, Italian on her mother's side, Fabi had warm beige skin, hazel eyes, and full lips. She wore her hair in loose, shoulder length coils that bounced when she turned her head at the sound of Maddock’s voice.
Bones greeted her first, giving her a big hug while Wills and Maddock exchanged knowing glances. When Bones released her, she eyed his companions. “Dane Maddock and Willis Sanders! Good to see you two alive and in one piece after all the crazy stunts you guys pulled in the SEALs.”
Maddock and Willis also gave Fabi a hug, though not as long or close as the one from Bones.
“Damn, girl,” Willis said. “You still working out?”
Fabi punched him in the shoulder, hard enough to make him wince. “What do you think?” She led them to a table in the “inside” area of the cafe, which was really just a shady nook under a section of corrugated sheet metal and surrounding banana palms. Plastic chairs were pulled up to a wooden picnic table on a dirt floor.
The three of them took seats and a Haitian woman took their orders, speaking in Creole. Maddock picked out several words in French, but that was all. She deposited a cold bottle of Prestige beer in front of each of them, and then left them alone. Fabi took a pull of her beer and then smiled at Maddock and Bones in turn.
“So, how’s life on the outside treating you so far?”
None of the three men said anything, each waiting for one of the others to speak.
“That good, huh?” Fabi said.
“Well, we’re here, so that’s pretty cool,” Bones said, looking around at the simple shack and the wall of jungle across the road.
“We just got our new treasure hunting venture off the ground.” Maddock
looked around and lowered his voice. He didn’t see anyone else except for the woman who took their orders, but as a former SEAL, operational caution was bred into him. “And Bones put us on the trail of the 1715 fleet, the San Miguel in particular.”
“What about you? What’ve you been up to?” Bones asked before taking a swig from his beverage.
“I’ve been volunteering at a health clinic here in Petit-Trou-de-Nippes.”
“Sorry, there's no way I can get on board with petite nips.” Bones grinned while Maddock looked around, hoping no one had overheard that, of all things they had to discuss.
Fabi rolled her eyes. “It translates to ‘little hole of Nippes’ and refers to the fact that the community grew up around a small harbor near the Nippes River that was deep enough for ships to anchor.”
Bones grimaced. “Turns out petite nips was more interesting after all.”
Fabi slapped Bones on the arm before continuing. “But listen. This is about my cousin, David. He’s the reason I reached out to you, and unfortunately for me the news is not good.” She hung her head in a moment of silence, then went on.
“He was a priest?” Maddock prompted.
Fabi nodded. “Someone found his body in the jungle not far from his church. It had been mutilated by animals, making it hard to tell what exactly happened to him.”
“I’m sorry, Fabi.” Bones held her while Maddock also expressed his condolences.
Fabi wiped her eyes and then continued. “David was a priest, yes, but he was a treasure hunter at heart.”
She could read the looks in the men’s eyes, looks that said, How serious was he? Lots of people daydreamed about finding lost treasure, maybe even read books or pored over maps and charts, armchair salvors. But those who actually ventured out into the ocean to look for it were few and far between. And what’s more, both ex-SEALs realized, those who successfully recovered treasure in the ocean were even fewer still. The research needed to be solid, the execution highly competent, and then of course, that fickle mistress, Lady Luck, needed to make an appearance at least once.