by Dan Kelly
“Somehow the President was able to find out about this without revealing anything about Sea Wasp. The INL’s operation has been terminated and the reason given was it was a waste of time, money and other resources on something that was clearly a duplication of effort by other intelligence agencies. Man, talk about the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing. This is a classic situation of government bureaucracy in action.”
“You know, Dave, it would be nice to know what Damien has learned about the smuggling operations in the Caribbean. It could be helpful to us in our mission.”
“The President is way ahead of you in that regard. He’s had Mr. Christensen recalled and will personally debrief him at the White House and pass the results on to Phil.”
“Thanks again Dave.”
As they head down to the casino, Abby tells Pete what Dave passed on and he responds with, “Well, Pablo never stuck me as the help little old ladies across the street kind of guy. The fact that he has a record doesn’t surprise me.” Pausing he added, “You know, being in the middle of a fusillade, people trying to force us off the road, the likelihood of us coming face-to-face in the near future with some very unsavory characters, all of these things put together make a good case for me to start carrying a weapon. I also think it would be a good idea for you to start carrying something more powerful than that little derringer decorating your ankle.”
“You’re probably right. When we get back to the suite, I’ll call Manny and ask him to get us a couple of Glocks.”
“Shit! Maybe you should call him now. Take a look at the black jack table on the far end over there. Look who’s standing behind the buxom brunette sitting at the middle of the table.”
You couldn’t miss him if you tried. He was like a giant redwood standing alone in the middle of some bonsai plants. They ducked behind some beautiful tropical plants before he spotted them and Pete said, “I don’t know if Lady Luck has just shined on us and given us an opportunity to find out who he associates with or if she’s just given us the finger and we’re facing some rough road ahead. That’s why I don’t gamble. I hate any odds that aren’t overwhelmingly in my favor.”
“Let’s go into that lounge over there where we can sit behind one of those big potted plants and observe him without him getting a clear view of us.”
“You’d better call Manny and let him know what’s going on. This could get real hairy very quickly if Pablo spots us.” They ordered a couple of pina coladas then Abby called Manny.
Fifteen minutes later one of Manny’s men walked into the lounge, sauntered over and sat down at the table next to theirs. He didn’t acknowledge them. He just took a look at the snack menu on the table and then got up and headed for the restroom. He left a brown paper bag on his chair. Abby quickly grabbed it and hid it in her lap under the table. A few minutes later, Manny’s guy walked passed them and out of the lounge without a glance in their direction.
When Abby opened the bag, she found two small bundles of paper towel containing Gaston Glock’s solution to providing a better weapon for the Austrian army and many police departments across the United States, two Glock 17s. She gave one to Pete who put it in the waist band at the back of his pants and put the other one in her purse which was just big enough to conceal it. Once again Abby surprised him, this time with her knowledge of firearms. “Did you know that the Glock is far superior to the traditional .38 Smith & Wesson that used to be the standard weaponry for many police department in that fully loaded it has 17 rounds of ammunition instead of six, it is much lighter, it has less parts and has a trigger pull weight of about 5 pounds instead of 12 pounds which improves one’s chances of hitting the target?”
“No I didn’t and why do you?”
“Is that a sexist question I’m hearing? Are you one of those guys who think certain things should be guy things only?”
It looked like that were about to get into it when Pete saw Salazar moving away from the black jack table towards the lounge. “Uh oh, trouble’s heading our way.”
“I noticed another exit at the end of the bar. Let’s get out of here before he spots us.”
They just barely managed to pull it off. As they were leaving, Pete glanced back and saw Salazar taking a seat at the table they had just left and looking quizzically at the bag and paper towel they had left sitting on the table. “Damn, we left the bag and paper towel on the table. I hope there’s no sign of gun oil on the paper towel. If he sees or smells anything, he’ll be watching his back a lot more carefully, making it a lot harder for us to follow him.”
Fortunately, a waitress came over to take his order and cleared the table. They positioned themselves near one of the crowded crap tables that provided a view of both entrances to the lounge, hoping they wouldn’t be seen. A few minutes later things got even more interesting when who walks into the lounge but Juan Fuentes.
Abby said, “Boy would I like to be a fly on the wall right now. This doesn’t necessarily quash the possibility that Salazar was the snitch for the shooting in Santo Domingo. He might be trying to set Fuentes up for another go, but I’m beginning to think I might be off base with that idea. These guys are not stupid and would have thought of that possibility as well. They’ve probably been convinced that old Pablo is in the clear or Juan wouldn’t be sticking his neck out like this. Then again, Salazar may have been slick enough to be able to talk his way out of suspicion and plans to have another try when the time is right. Sheesh, round and round I go, where I’ll stop I don’t know.”
“It could still go either way. That’s Juan’s problem though, not ours. Ours is to see without being seen and I don’t like standing out in the open like this. Let’s find a better place to do our surveillance.”
They didn’t have to as Salazar and Fuentes came out of the lounge, stopped by the black jack table to talk with the buxom brunette and then headed for the parking garage.
Pete asked, “What now? Does one of us try to talk up the brunette and one follow those two or do we stay together to do either?”
“Let’s stay together and follow the bad guys.”
They raced to the parking garage without any idea what car they should be looking for, but lucked out when they saw both of them talking alongside a BMW Series 6 convertible. The two shook hands and then Juan slid behind the wheel.
Pete and Abby got into their rental which was nothing to be ashamed of, a Mercedes-Benz E-Class, and waited for Salazar to return to the hotel. By the time he was out of sight, Juan was out of the parking garage and heading west. They caught up with him at a couple of traffic lights down the road and continued to follow him behind six other cars in their lane.
After following him for a while, they spotted a sign that read Isleta de San Juan and then they were pretty sure where he was headed, Old San Juan. The Isleta de San Juan is connected to the mainland by two bridges and a causeway and crossing them confirmed their destination.
Old San Juan is where the majority of the working class lives and where you’ll find most of Puerto Rico’s government buildings and lots of massive walls, narrow blue cobblestone streets and tourists checking out the sights.
Fuentes drove to a large warehouse that backed up to a beach and a covered docking area. Pete drove by and parked alongside a warehouse a half block away and they sneaked back through the yards in between the warehouses which appear to be locked up tight.
From their vantage point behind a stack of crates in the warehouse yard next door, they have a good view of the rear of the warehouse Fuentes went into moments ago. There is a big loading dock with its overhead sliding door open and several men are loading boxes onto dollies and taking them down to the dock that juts a considerable distance into the water. Except for a few sail boats off in the distance, there’s no sign of any other boats anywhere.
After the men finished hauling all of the boxes from the one dock to the other, Fuentes came out of the warehouse to talk with one of the men. Fuentes talked softly so they had trouble over
hearing what was being said, but they did catch some words, “delayed … nine-thirty …..pissed.”
Everyone went into the warehouse and the sliding door came down with a rumble. Pete asked, “What now?”
“We wait until nine-thirty, but not here. There’s too big a chance we’ll be seen out here in broad daylight if we stick around. We call Dave and let him know what we’re up to as well as Manny. By the way, where are the seals? I didn’t see them following us out here and I don’t see them anywhere around here.”
“Trust me, they’re around. You don’t see them because they don’t want you to see them.”
“We’re going to need their stealth tonight. Most likely there are guard dogs patrolling the warehouses and grounds after dark. They’re going to have to be silenced.”
“What will we be looking for? It appears we’ve located a base of operations of one of the major cartels and have most likely seen a lot of contraband being readied for shipment. Why don’t we pass on what we’ve learned to Dave and get the hell out of here?”
“I want to find out what kind of ship will be used to transport the goods and maybe overhear a destination. We should be able to get closer to the action under the cover of darkness. Phil won’t want to interfere with the shipment. He’ll want it followed to see who receives it. Anything we can give him to help identify the ship will make it a lot easier to do that.”
“Okay, we’ve got five hours to kill. Let’s go back to the hotel, change into something more appropriate for nighttime spooks, grab something to eat and I can touch base with my network of Caribbean contacts to see if they’ve come up with anything of interest to Sea Wasp.”
“Alright, but we better be on the lookout for Salazar. It might be best if we ordered room service. I wonder if old Pablo will be at the warehouse tonight.”
“I’d like to know what role he’s playing with the Juarez cartel and why he sent those guys after us in Guadeloupe.”
When they got back to the hotel, Abby checked in with Dave and got an update on Bob Trumball, Damien Christensen and the two guys that tried to get them to pull over in Guadalupe, none of it good. There’s been no response to the alerts sent out over the airwaves regarding Trumball, the two guys in Guadalupe are just some local muscle and know nothing helpful and Damien Christensen has suddenly gone incommunicado and disappeared.
The news about Damien isn’t setting well with Pete. “I wonder why Damien went to ground. You just don’t ignore a recall from your President if you want to keep your job or have any hope of any kind of government career. He’s got to be very afraid of something to pull a stunt like that.”
A little after nine that night Pete and Abby are back behind the pile of crates where they were hiding earlier that day. Abby had been right. There were guards dogs patrolling the grounds of all of the warehouses in the area and Manny and his men took them down with tranquilizer darts loaded with enough knock out drops to keep the dogs in dreamland for a couple of hours.
It’s very quiet and there’s no sign of anybody around. As nine-thirty rolls around, the overhead sliding door rises and Juan Fuentes and Pablo Salazar walk out onto the loading dock. They’re both looking towards the far end of the dock that juts out into the small bay. At first glance, there’s nothing but water to look at, but then suddenly the surface of the water is broken by the conning tower of a submarine and then the rest of a fairly large submarine comes into view and its forward hatch is opening. A man steps up and out onto the deck, but his back is to them so they can’t get a look at his face. Abby brought her night vision digital camera with her and is positioned and waiting for him to turn around. When he does, she almost drops the camera. Pete mutters, “I’ll be damned. It’s Damien Christensen!”
Damien walked up the dock to where Fuentes and Salazar were now standing at the other end. The men kept their voices low so it was impossible to overhear anything. It took over an hour to get the shipment on board the sub and during that time Abby was able to sneak up closer to the warehouse loading dock and was hiding beneath a tarp covering some equipment alongside the warehouse.
When the men were finished loading the sub they went back into the warehouse and a few minutes later Fuentes, Salazar and Christensen came out and Fuentes and Salazar were arguing about something. Salazar said, “What the hell do you want us to do with him? We’re not baby sitters. You asked us to hide him away until you could figure out how to safely trade him for cash. It’s been weeks now and you’ve come up with nothing. What’s the hold up?”
“Pablo, you must learn to be more patient. These things take time to put together and the more time that passes the more worried and fearful the people who care about him become and the more willing they will be to meet our demands.”
“I don’t like this, Juan. The longer this goes on the greater the risk becomes. This guy’s picture is all over the news in Venezuela. I’ll give it one more week and if you’re not ready to make a move by then I want out. I don’t care how much money you’re willing to pay me. I can’t spend it if I’m in jail or dead.”
“Okay, Pablo. Call me when you get to Miami and I’ll give you my decision. We’ll either move ahead or get rid of the excess baggage.”
Damien hadn’t said a word during this exchange, but he was listening like he was hearing the combination to the vault at the U. S. Mint. Salazar and Christensen headed down the dock and disappeared down the forward hatch. Minutes later there was no sign of the sub. Fuentes went back into the warehouse and the overhead sliding door closed like a curtain at the end of an act in a Broadway play.
Abby hurried back to where Pete was hiding and said, “We’ve lucked out on a couple of counts. First, the sub is headed for Miami and, second, Bob Trumball is being held by Pablo Salazar for Juan Fuentes and has probably been stashed somewhere around Barcelona or Caracas, Venezuela. So far, today has been a lucky day. I think when we get back to the hotel I’ll try my luck at the tables.”
As they started to move away from the pile of crates, there was a noise from the top of the pile and Abby soon realized she had spoken too soon. When they looked up they saw what must have been some kind of record for the biggest German Shepard either of them had ever seen and it wasn’t smiling or wagging its tail. Afraid to move she whispered, “When am I going to learn to keep my big mouth shut and not tempt fate?”
Before Pete could say anything in reply, the dog leaped and landed on him with his mouth going for Pete’s arm. Anticipating severe pain as the dog’s teeth sunk into his forearm, Pete was surprised when he was not bitten and the dog fell over on its side with a hole in its head, knocking over some trash cans in the process. Manny or one of his men has saved their butts again.
Abby said, “Damn, a dead dog with a bullet hole in its head is going to generate the kinds of questions we don’t want asked. We’ve got to get rid of the body somehow.” As if on cue, Manny showed up and said, “Get out of here. We’ll take care of this. Hurry, before the commotion brings someone out of the warehouse to investigate.”
Sure enough, as they made a beeline for their car three warehouses down the road they heard a side door in the warehouse squeak open and they ducked behind some oil drums before they were seen. Two men came out with guns in their hands and headed for the pile of crates they had been using for cover. They looked to see if Manny had heard them, but he was nowhere in sight nor was the dog. After the men looked behind the crates and found nothing but some overturned garbage cans, they looked around and then headed towards where they were concealed behind the oil drums. Things weren’t looking good. There was no place else to hide. The only option they had was to run for the car and hope these guys were lousy shots. As they were about to go for it, the side door in the warehouse opened and someone yelled, “Did you find anything?”
“No, just some overturned trash cans.”
“It was probably a rat. They grow pretty big around here. Come back inside. We’re ready to close up.”
The men turned around and
headed back to the warehouse. Pete and Abby started to breathe again. Pete whispered, “It looks like your luck is holding out. Maybe I’ll tag along with you at the gaming tables and make some side bets.”
“We won’t have to worry about Salazar seeing us and we might get a chance to talk with the brunette. Let’s get out of here before lady luck changes her mind.”
When they get back to the car Abby calls Dave and briefs him on what went down at the warehouse as Pete drives them back to the hotel. Abby has Dave on speaker so Pete chimes in with, “Dave, this is a big shipment of a lot of different stuff. It’s got to have a market value in the millions. With this much money involved, it’s a sure bet that the bosses and other higher ups are going to be front and center whenever and wherever this merchandise is moved. They’re not going to delegate the responsibility for its proper care to underlings. It should lead you to all kinds of interesting people and useful information and provide an excellent opportunity to create more animosity between the big boys. When you take possession of the shipment, whichever propaganda option you choose, the shipment was intercepted by the authorities on a tip from an informer, putting the word out that it was discovered in some other cartel’s backyard or just letting it disappear and starting a rumor that a big shipment of smuggled goods was stolen by a rival cartel or group of the cartels, it’s going to heat things up considerably. Putting that on top of everything else you’ve been doing to make life miserable for these lowlifes, it could escalate things to the next level and bodies will start piling up. Are you guys prepared for this?”