by Matt Lincoln
Tessa frowned. “How do you not? Maybe not every case, but in this situation, something has closed down tourism. Whatever happened here could happen again somewhere else. A few weeks ago, you shut down the largest human trafficking operation in this hemisphere. The Trader didn’t care about human beings, and they had no trouble scuttling a ship in a fragile ecosystem. Cobra Jon was no better.”
“So you see us as helping the environment, in a way?” Holm ventured. He leaned back in his chair. “That’s kinda cool.”
“I don’t like everyone knowing who we are,” Birn told us. “Meaning no offense, Tessa, but we do our jobs best playing under the public radar.”
“We can’t hide forever,” I countered. “Given all the internet coverage of, well, everything, it’s surprising that we aren’t mentioned more often in the media.”
“I suspect some of that has to do with the excellent work of your cybercrimes unit.” Tessa nodded toward Warner. “Donald suggested that the unit’s skill at manipulating the web had included watching for MBLIS mentions and removing them.”
Warner’s eyes widened as he looked over at me, and I nodded.
“It’s true,” he said. “It actually uses a lot of our resources.”
Holm sat up. “Does this article mean we’re outing ourselves? That sounds way less cool.”
“The agency,” I clarified in an even tone. I hated the idea myself, but it went way over my pay grade, which wasn’t low. “Our identities and likenesses will in no way be part of the story. Tessa is only covering the investigation and how we operate.”
“Um, Ethan?” Bonnie leaned forward on her elbows. “What about you-know-who?”
“What?” I frowned until she mouthed Header’s name. “Oh, my old friend. Yeah, part of the deal is keeping that out of the coverage also.”
Tessa gave me a sharp look. “I missed something.”
“Yeah.” I scanned the team’s faces and found varying amounts of discomfort. Dammit, Farr. “Now that nobody’s happy, let’s start at the beginning. Bonnie and Clyde, you stick around to give your updates. Everyone else, unless you wanna hear everything a second or third time, call it a night. We’re diving tomorrow morning.”
I walked Tessa through the case from meeting the Lemons all the way through that day’s dive. The only part I left out was the Wraith.
“Dare Lemon.” She sighed. “Wow. Uncle Donald made me watch his videos when I was learning to dive. He still sends links when they release… released new episodes. Did his niece take you out to the dive site?”
“No,” I hedged. “She’s flying up to be with family.” At Tessa’s understanding nod, I plunged in and hoped for the best. “An old friend of mine is helping us out, but there’s a catch. You can go with us, but you have to hand over your camera before you get on his boat.”
“I don’t think so!” She stood, and her cheeks flared. “What’s the point of me going if I don’t have my camera?”
“You’ll have it for the dive, and you’ll get it back after we’re ashore,” I promised. I might have been too hasty to call those eyes emerald. They were more like fire. “His boat is… you could say it’s top secret.”
Her brow smoothed. “Like the Ghost you took after Cobra Jon?”
“Sort of. Maybe a little less legal.”
Bonnie laughed behind her hand, which did not help.
“Just tell me,” Tessa ordered. “You had no trouble being direct the last time we were together.”
That was because I hadn’t missed her for over six months back then. Now that we were in the same room, I didn’t want her to leave. If she couldn’t handle the thing with Header, she’d be on the first flight home.
“We’re working with a guy named Jake Header,” I told her. “He has a boat a lot like Ghost, and in return for his help, we don’t arrest him for the week.”
“That’s all?” she asked. “I’ve heard of this guy. A buccaneer type who takes the bad guys out by doing it his way. So he’s doing this out of the goodness of his heart?”
“He’s a former SEAL, and we served together for a while.”
“And?”
That’s why Tessa was a journalist and the other part of the reason why Header had objected to her presence. Not even my team knew the deeper reason. To win Tessa over on this, though, I had to tell her.
“Bonnie and Clyde, I need you to turn off your ears for a minute,” I said.
Bonnie tapped her lab partner on the shoulder. He pulled out a pair of earbuds and looked around.
“What?” he asked.
“Don’t listen to Marston.”
“I wasn’t.” He put his earbuds back in and went back to whatever he was doing or listening to. I could not figure that guy out sometimes.
“Jake told me, by the way,” Bonnie announced. “I kind of wouldn’t shut up about why and all that, so he shut me up by promising to take me for a dive if I promised not to tell everyone else why he was helping.”
“Oh.” I chuckled, but Tessa wasn’t smiling. “So yeah. Dare Lemon is Jake Header’s half brother. He’s risking a hell of a lot by trusting the US and Belize governments not to go back on our promises. They’d all kill their mothers and grandmothers to get their hands on his tech.”
Tessa crossed her arms. “You thought I wouldn’t get that?” The hurt in her voice sliced through whatever good feelings had built up with her return. “Of course I won’t betray someone like him.”
I didn’t think it would be wise to question her use of the phrase “someone like him.”
“As much as you mean to me, I have to do my job,” I told her. “You’re a journalist. Header doesn’t want journalists near his boat, but he’s making an exception on the condition that nothing about him or his boat make it into your story.”
“Next time, just tell me what I need to know.” Tessa stood and turned to Bonnie. “Is this an update I need to hear right now? I’ve had a long day.”
“Nah, it can wait. Ethan’s the one I really need to brief. I’ll give you the nutshell in the morning.”
“Thanks, Rosa.”
Tessa left the room, and I slumped in my chair.
“Hey, she remembered my name,” Bonnie pointed out.
“I just reintroduced you.”
“Right, as ‘Bonnie.’ That woman, she pays attention to things.”
“Am I getting a lecture?”
“Do you need one?” She kicked Clyde’s chair. He appeared to be asleep sitting up. “I mean, I could do the whole don’t-assume-things speech, but we know how that one ends.” She pulled out one of the buds and blew in his ear. He jolted to his feet. “Then there’s the ‘trust-the-people-you-care-about’ diatribe. Or the ‘you-should-be-kissing-her-up-not-pissing-her-off’ address. If you want a lecture, Ethan, let me know which one.”
“I think I just got one,” I muttered.
“If you say so,” Bonnie answered.
“Huh? What’d you get?” Clyde asked in a sleepy voice. “Sorry, nodded off there.” A sheepish grin spread across his face. “Turns out TJ and I have the same taste in PC games. We stayed up a little too late.”
Bonnie made a noise and pushed the tablet in front of Clyde.
“Tell me what you got on that tag.” I dropped into a seat. “Anything useful from the lab?”
“There’s a string of numbers,” Clyde said with a yawn. “We’re trying to figure out what they mean. Hopefully by tomorrow.” He glanced at the screen for a second. “There’s some pretty intense gamma radiation clinging to that tag. Alone, it’s not enough to hurt a person if they don’t hold on to it for long, but if there were a box or even barrel full of that stuff, it would be bad news.”
“I think a Hulk joke would be bad taste here,” I observed. Neither of them laughed. “What makes this one special?”
Bonnie took the lead this time. “Medical science uses materials with short half-lives. It clears out quicker. Therefore, there’s less exposure. Beta rays are easily blocked by something as simp
le as fabric or cardboard. Gamma rays can go through things a lot easier, but lead and water are good blockers.”
“These gamma rays have a long half-life,” Bonnie added. “The seawater is insulating whatever’s down there. About half the radiation is gone at fifteen centimeters, and then half again at thirty. Dare Lemon had to be on top of a significant amount of radiation to get that much exposure.”
“That kind of exposure went right through the wetsuit.” Clyde rocked back and forth in his meeting chair. It squeaked. He didn’t seem to notice. “So we’re looking for a cluster or pile of material that wouldn’t have screamed ‘radiation’ at a couple of risk-taker divers.”
“Bridget Lemon said the floor was covered in silt.” I stood and paced the length of the table. Pacing was more Holm’s thing than mine, but this made less and less sense. “If the stuff was dumped less than a day earlier, how did it get covered so quickly?”
Clyde shrugged, but Bonnie tapped her lips with her forefinger. Then, her eyes widened.
“It’s possible that the Hole had a larger sandfall than usual,” she suggested with a downward scooping motion. “Maybe the container with the waste disrupted a ledge or something that held back a lot of sand. By the time everything settled, the debris was covered up.”
I nodded. “Makes sense. Kind of like triggering an avalanche.”
“I’m going to do some research tomorrow, but I don’t know of any medical waste that involves radiation to that intensity.” Clyde stood and yawned again. “Something’s off about it.”
“I agree.” Bonnie stood, as well. “I think the only way we’ll figure it out is if we recover all the debris or find out from the person responsible.”
“Tomorrow morning, we’re sweeping another section near the Lemons’ dive site,” I reminded them. “It looks like we’ll be able to take a small sub out in three days.”
It was a decent plan, as long as Header didn’t bail on me.
12
The boat ride north from Belize City felt like it took longer than my diving watch showed. I hadn’t told the others that Header might vanish. There would’ve been more questions than I was willing to answer. As long as I kept my yap shut, I had plausible deniability. In theory.
Header’s catamaran bounced through the early morning chop as I steered it toward the estate where the boathouse hid the Wraith. My stomach sank as we came round the last forest outcropping. The boathouse was empty behind the flapping tarp. I eased off the throttle and scanned the area and then behind us. Nothing.
“Where’s your buddy, Marston?” Muñoz hollered over the engine and surf. “Did he spook and run?”
I ignored her as I studied the scene. Because of the tarp, I couldn’t see to the rear of the boathouse, so I brought us to the opening for a better look.
“They lit out in a hurry,” Holm said. He pointed to the one side of the tarp. “It’s still lashed along this side.” He pointed to the other side. “And over there, you see where the lines were cut?”
Scraps of nylon rope littered the dock. Whatever happened, they didn’t have time to untie the secured tarp.
“Some of the tie-downs are pulled out,” Tess said.
She was right. The more I studied it, the more it looked like the boat rammed through the tarp. That was some rush.
I cranked the catamaran’s wheel to park it on the other side of the dock. We weren’t leaving until we inspected what we could. I owed MBLIS and the Belize government that much, at least.
“Hang on.” Birn stood with his hand over his aviator glasses. “Lookie who’s here.”
The Wraith glided in and gently bumped against the dock. Header didn’t bother putting her in the boathouse. He maneuvered her until the hatch was even with the dock. The door lowered two feet or so below the dock’s underside, and Header appeared with a rope. My old friend was covered head to toe in black smudges and was bleeding in several areas. Holm jumped onto the dock from the catamaran, caught the line, and secured the boat.
Header moved slowly and accepted Holm’s hand as he stepped up to the dock. Birn helped me secure the catamaran as the others hopped out to see the rogue captain. I kept an eye on Header as he shuffled toward the boathouse without talking to anyone.
“I got this,” Holm told me in a quiet tone. “He’s your buddy.”
I nodded and ran after Header.
“Jake, what happened?”
He shook his head and held up a hand. The guy needed a moment. I walked with him around the rear of the structure. As soon as he was out of sight of my team, he leaned against the siding and slid to sit on the ground. I signaled them to stay back before I went over to sit next to him.
“What happened?” I asked, softer this time.
He sniffed with one of those smiles that people used when they were trying to process bad shit. His fists clenched and released.
“Remember that mission near Somalia?” His voice was rough, unsteady. “The one with the family? No bad guys, just damned bad luck.”
“Engine fire?” I leaned my head back against the wall and looked to the sky.
“It came over the horn a couple hours ago. Boat on fire and rescuers were at least an hour away. I was twenty minutes, tops.”
“Sorry, Jake. You did your best. You always do.”
“No.” He met my eyes. “It was like being on that other boat. I froze, Ethan. The girl was screaming, and I froze.”
Oh hell…
“I—”
“And don’t give me some bullshit about PTSD!” he yelled. He swallowed and got his voice under control. “I got the girl out, but she saw her parents suffer, man. She’s gonna live with that, and she’s gonna have some bad scars.”
There wasn’t anything I could say to help. People tend to think of SEALs and former SEALs as unfeeling badasses. We were badasses when we had to be, but that kind of thing ate at a person’s soul, especially once the battle was over. That’s the side the public rarely saw.
“I noticed the shower in the boathouse,” I told him. “We’ll start loading and give you some time to clean up. I’ll just tell them it was a rough rescue. They’ll leave you alone about it.”
“Thanks.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Keep that Muñoz character away from the controls. She’s too curious.”
I chuckled. “I’ll make sure of that.” I stood and dusted off my shorts as Tessa’s laugh rang out from down the dock. “And I’ll hold on to Tessa’s camera until you’re ready to go.”
“You sure you trust her?” Header asked.
“With my life,” I promised.
“Don’t let me down, Ethan.”
I returned to the group at the end of the dock. They had most of our gear in place. The refilled tanks from the day before were neatly stacked, as well as all the other dive equipment.
“How bad was it?” Holm asked when I walked up.
“Bad.” I glanced at everyone. “Cut him some slack today. He did a good thing, but it didn’t end well. He’s getting a shower and will be ready to go when we are.”
Muñoz met my eye the longest. I started to say something, but she gave a sharp nod and walked off to help move another case. Tessa came over with her camera equipment.
“Two bags?” I wondered.
“My camera, underwater housing, and lights.” She gestured toward the boathouse. “I’m not sure where to put the bags. You said he’d hold them until we’re at the site.”
“I told him I’d take care of it until he gets out here.” It was the first chance I had to talk with Tessa in private that morning. I didn’t want to waste it. “Look, I’m sorry for not showing enough trust in you last night.”
She handed me the straps to both of her bags. “It stung, and I overreacted. We both had long days, so let’s call it even.” A frown creased her otherwise smooth forehead. “I love Uncle Donald, I really do, but I don’t think he’s telling me everything he knows.”
“As much as I admire him, I gotta agree,” I admitted. “Let’s
take this one step at a time, see how it plays out.”
“alright.” She looked over my shoulder and cleared her throat. “Captain Header, thank you for allowing me—”
“This the camera rig?” He nodded at the bags I held.
“Yes,” Tessa hedged.
“I’ll hold on to it while you’re on my vessel.” Header’s gruff tone rubbed me the wrong way, but I held my tongue. “I still don’t know that I want you going along.”
“Jake…” I wasn’t sure what to say at the moment.
Tessa’s jaw dropped, and she looked to me. Header looked between us and laughed.
“I’m just messing with you.” He took the straps from me and handed them back to Tessa. “Ethan vouches for you. His word is gold, Miss Bleu. All I care about is that you don’t take any photos, from any angle, of my boat. Too many agencies want intel on the Wraith. I’m putting a hell of a lot of trust in these folks just letting them near her. MBLIS and other groups might not agree with the way I operate, but the truth is, we’re on the same side.”
From inside the hatch, Muñoz narrowed her eyes at Header but didn’t say anything. She joined Birn and Bonnie on the bench seats and fastened her harness. Tessa and I went in, and Header untied Wraith from the dock and closed the door. He was acting like himself, but there was a slump to his shoulders and a dullness in his eyes that weren’t there the day before.
After getting Tessa situated, I joined him at the front. A hint of oily smoke lingered about, but I couldn’t tell if it was from him or traces left on his seat. He goosed the engines, and the boat jolted forward. In the back, the only conversation was held in low voices once we hit cruising speed. Header pushed harder than the day before, hitting sixty knots with little effort. I pretended not to notice. If anyone else noticed, they didn’t say anything.
A small part of me wanted to ride with him on the open sea someday, maybe even chase down modern pirates. The larger part of me didn’t want to throw my career away and end up in prison.
“Here we are, folks,” Header announced as we slowed up to the Lighthouse Reef Atoll. “Miss Bleu, you can join us up at the front if you’d like to see the approach.”