Miami Malice

by Matt Lincoln

  I got three raised eyebrows and three knowing looks.

  “I’ll show you all a completely suitable and PG-Rated time. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Doc nodded at me.

  “Deal.” Xavier raised his hand as if that meant something special.

  Deal, Rose signed.

  Once we all got dressed up and armed, because we never knew with the Yabut hanging around, we walked into the bustling city. The air was ripe with electricity that only an uncharted escapade could give you. I had been here before, years ago, and under very different conditions.

  I didn’t remember too much except for the octopus, the Passadouro Reserva Tinto, and a tantalizing woman named Cecelia. She knew all the best local treasures with the best food and music, where it felt more like dining with friends than being at a restaurant. I had forgotten all the rest of that trip.

  Rosa picked out the dinner accommodations. She did know far more about food and excellent tastes than the rest of us, so it was a natural choice. We were seated outside under a canopy of string lights and silk flowers. The table was made of old, weathered wood and waxed to make the surface have a nice sheen. The waiter was a young, tanned guy with a black ponytail and stubble on his chin. I didn’t catch his name.

  As he handed us our well-worn menus, Rosa began to show off just a bit. Azores cuisine is more rustic than we’re used to, so don’t let your eyes get bigger than your stomach. She looked over the meals with a cultivated eye.

  “That warning will go unheeded,” Doc told her.

  “And by ‘rustic’ you mean…?” That was a tricky word, and I could only handle so many more surprises today.

  Hearty and filling. They have a few one-pot meals that sound delicious. I’ll need a week to sample them all properly. Rosa glanced at me, but I ignored her. I knew this was a hint, but I pretended not to pick up on it.

  “I heard the cod is very good. And the squid.” This was Xavier’s exchange as his eyes wandered over the menu. Somehow, we got him to leave his laptop at the house tonight. She needed a break.

  “I have fond memories of the squid. And they do things with pork that make your mouth water just looking at it.” I was having a hard time deciding for myself at that point.

  “I can’t decide. Rosa, order for me.” Doc placed his menu on the table in defeat.

  Famous last words. She jokingly replied.

  The meal was relaxing, and it was good to just be out without anything hanging over us. We had gotten the bad guys, and we’d have an eye on them in the future. Pirating was getting harder in these waters, but there would always be a threat. That was just the nature of the beast.

  The avenue was mostly lined with shops and cafes, and this time of night, the outdoor dining was full and lively. People walked, danced, and ate all around us, and the aromas and sounds filled the air. Doc insisted on dessert, and as we were waiting, we all turned to look down the street as we heard the unmistakable sound of screeching tires. The noise started to funnel down, and we could tell that it was headed disturbingly close to our location.

  Doc and I were standing up before we could even think about it, and I saw an older style gold French Citroën Berlingo barreling to the left of the street.

  It swerved to miss several people, who luckily were alert and quick on their feet. Still, the driver lost control and slammed into the corner of a historic looking rock building. Smoke poured out of it from many places, and a high-pitched whine filled the air. The tourists and night owls started running away from the scene. A few of us did exactly the opposite.

  From our vantage point across and up from the crash, I saw four people inside the automobile. The driver slumped against the wheel, head covered in blood. There was a passenger, maybe a young woman or girl, and she was screaming for help. Behind her was a person still moving around in the back seat, so that was a good sign. The fourth was moving an arm, waving for help. At least, that was what it looked like from where I stood.

  Doc and Rosa had started to move toward the scene when another vehicle rushed up. It moved between the wrecked car and where we were. This one, a white UMM Alter 4x4, had seen better days. I could see the signs of weapons fire that had hit it, along with evidence of a recent bad repaint job.

  Before my mind could process all of it, there was a new round of gunfire, and those people remaining on the street had to duck for cover. That included Xavier, Doc, Rosa, and myself. We could hear the fire pinging off of everything and hitting things randomly. People were still screaming and yelling, and all that I could do was hope that they got to safety soon.

  Doc was yelling at me, and it took some time to focus on what he had said. “We need to get to them and help!” He was pointing at the first car, the gold one.

  I knew that his heart was in the right place, but getting himself shot would not have helped any of us. Through the chaos, I saw a woman crawling out of the back seat of the gold Berlingo and firing a Desert Eagle at the second automobile. There were only a few people on the street now, and our four numbskulls were willing to stay.

  The woman with the gun went down, maybe shot, and two men rushed her vehicle. Under the threat of bullets and leaked petrol, they pulled the other woman from the front seat, kicking and screaming all the while, and the other person from the back seat out into the open. The armed woman on the ground was struggling to reload her firearm and take aim. By the time I had my own gun drawn, the young woman was being forced into the back seat of the white Alter. The other person, a young man, was thrown into the passenger side. He didn’t look to be in any condition to fight back.

  I took note of their clothing and any details that might help us out later. The young woman was of average height and build, wearing a dark red skirt and a black top. She had dark hair and a sparkly headband. The young man was thin and gangly, clean-shaven with black hair, and wore camo shorts and a white tank.

  Rosa got a few shots off, and I knew she was aiming for the tires. Doc was moving to make a run for the injured, and so I fired at the driver of the white Alter. It would distract him enough to give Doc a little cover. The driver ducked, yelled, and started to drive away, even with his own people half hanging out of the back door.

  Rosa, bless her heart, had hit the right-side tires, but this fool didn’t care. Even with half of his tires blown out, he backed up, ramming and bouncing off things just to get out of there. He sped out of the avenue and down the street into light traffic. At least he wouldn’t be hard to spot in that wreck.

  By the time I got my bearings, Doc was already at the wounded woman’s side and administering aid to her. Rosa and Xavier were tending to the few other tourists unlucky enough to have gotten caught in this mess. Doc called out to me. “Go check on the driver!”

  We could hear sirens wailing and heading in two directions. The one coming toward us sounded further away than I’d have liked it to be. Careful of the leaked fuel and sparking vehicle, I got to the driver. He was a man with a balding head and open eyes. There was no life there, though. A gunshot to the neck took care of that. There was a gash on his forehead, too, and cuts from where the shattered windshield bit into him. It was only a guess, but I’d say the neck wound took its time, poor guy.

  “Jake! I need help!” Doc called back to me, and so I ran over to his patient. He had gotten the woman more or less conscious, and she was trying to speak. It was plain to see that she’d been through a lot. Dried blood had started to clot along her sleeves and arms, as well as her face and head. She’d go into shock if we weren’t careful. She struggled to reach for her chest pocket but couldn’t quite handle it.

  “What can I do, Doc?” I was willing to help, but I just didn’t want to get in the way of what he was doing. I had the training and know-how, but his skills surpassed mine.

  Rosa and Xavier reached us, and she bent down to help out. Together, Rosa and Doc bandaged and managed the woman as she struggled to reach for whatever was in that pocket. Rosa picked up on it and did it for her. Inside the shirt po
cket of a very typical white button-down shirt was a high-end card wallet. Xavier noticed and immediately asked for it. Rosa tossed it to him and returned to tending the woman.

  Xavier opened it and flipped through the cards. To his astonishment, and ours, too, he said, “She’s Air Force Special Forces. Look.” He held the badges and cards out so that we could see for ourselves. Satisfied, he then dug around some more into her wallet. “There’s one of those identification cards. You know… the ones for calling special services when someone gets injured.”

  “Like a DNR?” I asked as I fought back a cough from the strong fuel smell.

  “No!” Xavier was a little incredulous with me. “Like… classified info that can’t be relayed to the average person.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Doc?” I shook my head because that didn’t make much sense to me in this situation.

  “A Special Needs ID?” Doc looked up and back down at her with fresher eyes. “Is there a number to call?”

  Xavier nodded. “Yes. I don’t recognize the code, though. That’s not even an International number.” He seemed totally perplexed by this. It was a new look, for a change.

  Doc continued to tend her with Rosa’s help but barked an order to Xavier. “Call it. There will be instructions. We need to follow them to the letter.”

  Xavier pulled out his cell and started dialing.

  Rosa signaled to all of us. We need to get out of this fuel. I know that we shouldn’t move her, but if the petrol catches on fire… She didn’t have to finish. We all understood.

  Doc and Rosa gently moved the woman, who made low moaning sounds as we tried to take it easy with her. The sirens were getting here, but we still had too much time. The avenue was quiet and empty now, but it looked like a storm had forced itself through.

  Tables and chairs laid overturned and broken nearby. Shattered lamps and spoiled candles left us all in the dark and without much to guide us as to where it was safe. The building that had been hit by the car was the only thing still in mostly good shape. The rest was a disaster caused by the gunfire and the panic and chaos of the fleeing crowd. I turned my attention back to my crew.

  “K-I-P-P-Y-O-Z-O-A,” Xavier spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line. I watched as his face paled considerably. “Um, Doc?”

  “Yes?” His tone was short but not in a cruel way, just a stressed way.

  “They said that she can’t be taken to any regional hospital. That she… must be administered medical attention in the field, or from an authorized private medical professional. And they just hung up. Want me to call them back?” Xavier sounded very unsure of the words that had just left his mouth.

  “No,” Doc replied. “Won’t do any good. The message will just repeat.” He motioned to me and took stock of where we were. “We have to get her up and someplace safe. I can’t do anything for her here.”

  I knew enough not to question Doc when there was a life on the line. My mind worked overtime as I tried to figure out the best way to accomplish what we needed to.

  “Header, she’s Special Forces.” Doc’s tone had changed yet again. He was calmer and more focused. “This wasn’t a car accident, or a wrong place, wrong time thing. Something serious is going on here.”

  We all had the same thoughts, at least connected ones.

  Yabut? Rosa signed.

  Doc shrugged, as he didn’t have the clear answer to that, but I knew we both thought the same.

  “Okay.” I made the final decision for us. “Safehouse, it is.”

  Chapter 4

  Jake

  The woman was resting in one of the spare bedrooms on the ground floor of our safe house. It was one of the smaller ones that had a weird, eerie feeling to it. It had a low light ambiance and a single hanging bulb on the ceiling. It was a fancy decor bulb, mind you, yet it just didn’t make you relaxed once you laid down on the bed.

  Most of the other bedrooms were airy and open, with a desk in each one and a walk-in closet. They were all the same solid white and metal as the rest of the house, but a single gaudy picture hung over each of the beds. Mine had an umbrella and a pair of Wellingtons. Someone somewhere must have thought it was worth buying and hanging in a house. I wished that they hadn’t.

  Doc and Rosa had spent what seemed like hours bandaging the woman and keeping her from going into shock. Xavier and I had used this time to research her online and through… other channels. Her ID was foreign, even to me, and this made it a concern. It was unlike most other military documentation I’d seen. It was chipped for scanning and had procedural numbers that I didn’t even try to understand. And that worried me.

  “The voice on the phone, what was it like?” I knew that I had asked this before, but I needed to hear it again.

  Xavier shook his head as he answered me, yet again. “Computerized with a synthetic overlay. My best guess is that they used varying harmonics and had several blended voices to create a singular component. That’s next-level stuff for most of us. Whoever backs her has got money to burn.”

  “Okay, but you had to pick up on something else.” Maybe I was getting desperate. Maybe I was tired. Or maybe… I needed to hear something to reassure me.

  “I did, yeah. And that’s why I’m running it through a different program now.” Xavier tapped on his phone that I then noticed was connected to his laptop. “It’s probably going to be tomorrow morning before I get the results, but I’m analyzing the call recorded on my end. So far, no accent, no dialect abnormalities, and no speech patterns to denote a programming signature.”

  He felt me watching him, and he shrugged. “I’ll hopefully have something tomorrow, Header. That’s the best I can do.”

  “And thanks for that.” I was harsh on him for no good reason, and I shouldn’t have been. “I mean it.”

  Right then, the bedroom door opened, and Rosa appeared with a bunch of bloody, wet towels. She looked tired but determined, and I had to admit that it was a trait I admired a lot about her. She went and tossed the soiled laundry in the washer and then settled into an oversized chair in the living area.

  She’s still resting but drifting in and out. She mumbles things, but that’s it. Nothing coherent. Rosa snuggled down into the solid white pouf chair and looked about ready to call it a night.

  “Do we have a name?” I had hoped that our mysterious stranger had bothered to introduce herself.

  Rosa shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

  Xavier chimed in from his spot at the bar. “It’s Kippy Ozoa. I told you that already.” He liked to stay close to the kitchen area. It was one of his idiosyncrasies.

  “No, you didn’t,” I called back to him. This was news to me.

  “Yes, I did.” Xavier insisted. “When I made that weird call. Weren’t you listening?” He seemed a tad bit offended by my forgetfulness.

  Rosa and I exchanged looks, then she asked him. The letters you spelled out?

  “Yes. Kippy Ozoa. It’s probably fake, but that’s what the badge says.” Xavier waved it in the air as if that helped to prove his point or jog our memory.

  “Fake name? Yeah, that would make sense. Maybe some deep undercover action?” I got up from my recliner and went to the fridge for a bottle of water. I grabbed three more and handed them out. I kept Doc’s until he decided to emerge from her room.

  Rosa took a sip and asked, But what do those kids have to do with it? If the Yabut are migrating to human trafficking, then that causes a lot of problems. And not just for us.

  “Agreed. But if she is Special Forces, that could mean that the Yabut have gotten some other people’s attention.” I didn’t like where this could be going once I followed it through. “We may be late to a really bad party.”

  “Kippy Ozoa doesn’t exist.” Xavier seemed to think this wasn’t big news but worth mentioning again, anyway. “There is no record of any such person anywhere. She’s a complete non-person.”

  That was going to be another problem down the road.
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  “And the crash tonight is being blamed on a drunken vehicle operator,” Xavier added. “There’s no mention of the couple being taken, the shootout, or us. That’s good and bad.”

  Bad enough for the locals to cover it up? You don’t think they’re working with the pirates, do you? Rosa made a good point, and it was worth considering.

  “Most likely not,” I replied. “I mean, some of the community police force, several well-placed media types, maybe… but the business owners and tourists? No way.” My experience had taught me that the locals rarely had a big hand in this type of business.

  Rosa shook her head. Then why ignore it? Why hide the whole thing?

  “Military-level interference?” I was just guessing, but it made sense. “We have some pirates with unexpected connections, a special forces agent, and some kidnappings.”

  “Possible kidnapping,” Xavier corrected me.

  Possible? You call two kids, injured kids, being pulled out of a car crash and forced into another car under the threat of gunfire ‘possible’? Rosa’s eyes flared rather passionately when she got her ire up. I was just glad it wasn’t directed at me this time.

  “Rosa, I’m going by the facts,” Xavier defended himself. “We saw the first car crash, and then the second one pulled up. Both were exchanging gunfire in the middle of a crowded dining location. Neither had any regard for the tourists and non-combatants in the entire area. Neither group was acting as if they cared too much about doing anything besides killing each other. If it is Yabut, then it could be drug-related, or a turf war, or a double-cross. I’m just saying that we should cover all the bases before saying it was one thing over the other.”

  Damned if he didn’t have a point there as well.

  That girl was struggling to get away from them. The boy was in no condition to fight back, but I’m sure that he would have. No matter what, they didn’t belong in any of that. Rosa turned from Xavier and refused to address his theories.

  Luckily for us, Doc emerged from Kippy’s room right then. He looked distressed by whatever he had just had to face. In terms of her injuries, I knew that he had seen and worked on worse before. There had to be something else that was bothering him about this.