Corruption in the Keys

by Matthew Rief

  “And you guys trust him?”

  I glanced over at Ange.

  “Yeah,” she said. “We do.”

  “Did he know when this was going to happen?”

  “No,” I replied. “Though we’ve got a pretty good idea. We did some searching and found out that Zhao is unveiling a prototype of their new offshore drilling system that’s being built in South Korea. It’s creating some hype in the investing community. Zhao stocks have been climbing steadily for the past few days.”

  “So that’s it,” Scott said. “Zhao unveils a new oil rig platform. Stock skyrockets. Then Wake causes the spill.”

  “Then the stock plummets,” Ange said. “Most likely bankrupting Zhao and leaving Wake an even richer man than he is now.”

  I took a sip of ice water and nodded.

  “It’s what I would do,” I said. “If I was a corrupt billionaire businessman.”

  “I’m not surprised to hear that Richard Wake is involved in something like this,” he said. “Anytime there’s government scandal or corruption is presumed, that guy’s name shows up. But he’s been too smart and too rich to get pinned down with anything concrete. You know what this crap reminds me of? The Lucona. Either of you ever heard about that?”

  Ange and I both shook our heads. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

  “She was a cargo ship that sank back in seventy-seven. An Austrian businessman named Proksch planted a bomb and sent it to the bottom of the Indian Ocean. Then, after she sank, he claimed twenty million in losses, when in reality he’d only had a bunch of old useless coal mining machinery on board. That guy murdered six innocent people to try and make a profit.”

  “What happened to him?” Ange asked.

  “He was eventually convicted when they found the wreck with ROVs thirteen years later. It was over thirteen thousand feet down, but thankfully technology and karma caught up with him. He was disgraced and ended up dying in prison.”

  Scott steepled his fingers and looked out the window.

  “We need to stop this,” he said. “We could have the rig seized by Coast Guard in less than an hour. We could shut down this whole operation with one swift move.”

  I shook my head.

  “You know that can’t happen,” I said. “As soon as they figure out what’s happening they’ll move up their plans. One quick change and there goes the oil.” I paused a moment, then added, “No. The only way to stop this from happening is to do it secretly and quickly. We need to infiltrate this thing and take them out before they even know we’re there.”

  Scott shook his head. “How did I know that you were about to say something like that? You want to infiltrate an oil rig? Are you hearing yourself right now? The thing’s a floating hunk of metal sixty feet above the ocean that’s full of roughnecks and armed bad guys.”

  “The rig is owned by Zhao,” I said. “There’s no way that Wake managed to pay off every man aboard. My guess is he only has control over a few of the higher-ups on board.”

  “That won’t stop the guys not involved from hitting you over the head with a wrench if they see you starting trouble.”

  “Well, then, I guess I’ll have to be quiet about it, won’t I?”

  “And Darkwater?” Scott asked. “What about them?”

  “When I see them, I’ll deal with them,” I said. “The real trick is getting on this thing without being spotted.”

  Scott nodded. “That among other things. Do you even have any idea what this thing looks like up close? Have you looked at the designs for it?”

  “We’ve got help with that,” Ange said. “Frank has a professor friend and we’re meeting with him tomorrow. Guy’s supposed to be an expert on this stuff.”

  Scott leaned back into the cushion behind him. I could practically see his mind at work. He was trying to think of a way around this, a way of foiling their plans without sneaking aboard and getting hands dirty. After about a minute, he’d made up his mind.

  “Okay,” he said. “What can I do to help?”

  I smiled. “First, we need a boat. Darkwater will no doubt have their guys watching every inch of the horizon, even at night. They know the Baia, so it’s out of the question. And Jack’s Sea Ray is a little slow for my taste. So we’ll need something that’s fast, but also unthreatening.”

  Scott nodded. “I’m sure I could find something. You’ll need it by tomorrow?”

  “As soon as possible,” Ange said. “Zhao’s unveiling is at five in the afternoon the day after tomorrow. But that’s in South Korea, which is fourteen hours ahead. That means three in the morning is our deadline.”

  “We can’t be sure how soon after the unveiling Wake will sell, so we need to play it safe,” I said.

  “Alright,” Scott said. “What else?”

  I thought for a moment.

  “A jammer,” I said. “To disrupt cellular and radio signals. We want them to have no communications while we’re there.”

  “That’ll disrupt yours as well,” Scott said. “So you won’t be able to communicate either.”

  “It’s a necessary sacrifice.”

  “You want live satellite feeds of the rig?”

  I shook my head. “Too risky. I don’t want them to think anyone’s paying attention to them. The last thing I want is to raise suspicion.” I brought up a few smaller items, then glanced over at Ange and added, “Ange, can you think of anything else?”

  She finished up her pizza and wiped her lips with a napkin.

  “Not at the moment,” she said. “But I’m sure we’ll think of more.”

  We talked for almost two hours before deciding to take off. After sitting and smelling the enticing blend of cheese, sauce, and fresh-baked crust, I couldn’t help but grab a slice of pepperoni for the road. We paid the tab, thanked Luigi, then headed out the door. Scott’s car was across the street in a small parking garage. We said our goodbyes, and he told us he’d be in touch soon.

  Ange and I headed back toward the waterfront. The pizza was even better than I remembered it, and I savored each and every bite.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t ask him to come down,” Ange said. “We could probably use all the help we can get on this.”

  She was right, of course. But even though he’d risked his life alongside me many times over the years, the last thing I wanted was for him to compromise his position. He’d been given a platform to make big changes on a big scale, and I didn’t want him to potentially ruin his career on my account.

  “If he wants to come down, he will,” I said. “But we’re just gonna have to find a way to make do.”

  Suddenly, she turned unexpectantly, walking south along the waterfront, away from the dock where the Cessna was tied off.

  “Where’re you going?” I said, my mouth full of pizza.

  “It’s getting late,” she said, turning back to look at me. She grinned and added, “I got us a place here for the night. Figured it would be safer here than in Key West right now. Plus, I don’t feel like flying, or dying if you have to take over.”

  I laughed sarcastically at the cheap jab. She was right about it getting late. It was almost 1900 and it would be getting dark within the hour.

  “Sounds good to me,” I said after swallowing. “Where’s this place.”

  She motioned her head toward a marina building right over the water just a block down from us. I finished my slice while we checked in, then headed to the room. It was on the second story and had a balcony that looked out over the bay. We sat and watched boats of all different sizes cruising across the water, most coming in after a day out on the blue. The sun fell at our backs, illuminating the sky with streaks of faint red and fringing the eastern horizon dark purple. Ange fell asleep in my arms as I let my mind wander. When I could no longer keep my eyelids open either, I carried her to the bed, then fell asleep beside her.

  EIGHTEEN

  We got off to a late start for us, not rising until just after 0900. I’d forgotten to set an
alarm and had paid the price. Thankfully we weren’t set to meet with Frank and his friend until later that afternoon. After grabbing a quick bite to eat, we headed back over to the Cessna, climbed aboard, and took off for Key West.

  The flight was relatively uneventful until the wind decided to pick up during our descent. I pulled my phone out to check and see if I’d received any messages and when I did, we hit a patch of turbulence and it slipped through my fingers. It fumbled on the floor and slid under the seat behind me. I removed the headset, unbuckled, and climbed back to get it. Reaching behind the backseat, I felt a few backpacks and after snatching my phone, I realized that they were parachutes.

  I grabbed one of the back headsets and slipped it on.

  “When was the last time you unfurled and inspected these anyway?” I asked, holding up one of the parachutes. “They’re looking a little neglected.”

  “Oh, I forgot those were there,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “Haven’t touched them since I bought it three years ago.”

  My jaw dropped and I stared at her in disbelief.

  “Ange, are you crazy? You’re a licensed pilot and you haven’t… you’re supposed to get them inspected and repacked three times a year. FAA regulations require—”

  I stopped mid-sentence when I saw her face change. To her credit, she managed to keep it together pretty well before bursting with laughter.

  I smiled and shook my head. “When was the last time you—”

  “While in NorCal last month,” she said. “The girls wanted to do a jump after our hike in Yosemite, but I ended up cutting the trip short. Somebody ran off to fight a Russian mercenary in Cay Sal without telling me.”

  She grinned, flashing her pearly white teeth at me. I just shook my head and laughed. In my defense, we hadn’t actually run off to fight anyone. We were just looking for a plane wreck. But I knew that there was no winning that battle.

  I climbed back into the copilot seat and switched back to my original headset. For a few seconds, I sat in silence, staring out into space as we drew closer and closer to the specks of green surrounded by blue.

  “Hey,” Ange said, snapping her fingers in front of me. “You okay? You know I didn’t mean it, right? I forgave you, you know that.”

  I blinked a few times, then tilted my head toward her.

  “No, it’s not that,” I said. I paused again, then smiled. “I think I found my way onto that rig.”

  Ange looked at me in confusion for about half a second before turning back and looking at the stowed parachutes. She glanced back at me and rolled her eyes.

  “Well, I can’t say it would be the craziest thing you’ve ever done. Definitely top three, though.”

  A few minutes later, when we were only about five minutes out from our destination of Tarpon Cove Marina, my phone vibrated to life. It surprised me because it was my sat phone and I didn’t recognize the number. I pulled the plug on my headset, disconnecting it from the dashboard, and hooked it into the phone jack. I pressed the answer button, then listened, waiting for some sales guy in India to pipe up and try to sell me a weight loss pill or something.

  “Logan Dodge?” a voice said.

  I recognized who it was instantly. It was a voice that most people would consider soft, intelligent, and inviting. But to me, it was like nails on a chalkboard. A cold-as-ice voice that stoked anger deep within me.

  “I know you’re there, Logan,” Carson said. “What? You think I wouldn’t be able to find your secret number?”

  Ange leaned over and placed a hand on my shoulder. She could tell that something was wrong.

  “What the hell do you want?” I said.

  “So hostile,” she fired back. “I just wanted to call and give you some friendly advice, that’s all.”

  “I don’t take advice from criminals. I hear there’s gonna be a nice cushy prison mattress with your name on it.”

  She laughed. “You still don’t understand how the world works, do you?”

  “I know that karma will get to you one way or another, Carson. And when it does, even you won’t have enough money to get it off your back.”

  She paused a moment, clearing her throat.

  “Well, regardless if you want my advice or not, I’m gonna give it to you,” she said, raising her voice. “If you come anywhere near the oil rig again, you’ll be responsible for one of the largest environmental catastrophes in history. And if you think that—”

  “Are you done babbling yet?” I said, cutting her off.

  “Just one more thing,” she said.

  I could tell she was struggling to keep herself composed. She wasn’t used to being spoken to that way.

  “I suggest you stop by and see your little friend from the FBI,” she said. She gave a shrill laugh, then added, “The poor guy just wanted to help. He even decided to meet with your small-town police officer friend at his hotel room.”

  My blood boiled. Her words felt like a knife that was being forced deeper and deeper into my body. I’d barely met Rashad, but Charles had become like a brother to me.

  “What did you do to them?” I said in a low, harsh voice.

  She paused a moment, clearly enjoying my reaction.

  “Well, nothing yet,” she said calmly. “But mark my words, Logan, by the time you get to them, they’ll both be able to give you a lesson in what I’m capable of. Everyone has a limit when it comes to self-control. Even—”

  I hung up the phone forcefully. I couldn’t stand listening to her any longer. My hand was shaking. My breathing heavy.

  Ange grabbed my shoulder and leaned over. She looked worried and tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear a thing over the engine. I pulled the headset plug free, reconnected it to the dashboard.

  “Who was that?” Ange said as soon as I got it hooked up.

  I looked through the windshield at the islands below us. Ange had brought us down to below five hundred feet and we were just about to pass Stock Island. We were approaching Key West from the Atlantic side, which meant that the Slice of Paradise Motel was just a few miles ahead of us.

  “It was Carson,” I said. She narrowed her gaze, and her fingers gripped the yoke tighter. “We need to land near Rashad’s hotel. He and Charles are in trouble.”

  Ange immediately adjusted our course slightly and lowered our elevation at an even faster rate. She called air traffic control at Key West International and calmly explained that she was having engine trouble and would need to make a quick landing near Smathers Beach. The controller replied that she was clear to land and reminded her to be wary of boat traffic.

  Ange was fuming as much as I was, but she composed herself well and eased us down smoothly.

  “It’s a trap, Logan,” she said. “She’s a schemer and she’s trying to take you down.”

  I grabbed an extra magazine from my backpack and stashed it beside my Sig.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “But I don’t have a choice. I need to go in there, Ange.”

  She brought us down right over the water, flying parallel to the shore that was just a few hundred feet to our right. Landing that close to a beach is incredibly dangerous. Spotting snorkelers and swimmers can be difficult from the air, but Ange was confident in her vision of the water and maneuvered us right beside a group of kayakers. We touched down softly at sixty-five knots. Ange kept the engines running, cruising us toward the end of the hotel’s dock, where a few people had gathered to fish.

  I could hear the clock ticking in my mind, counting down the seconds until they were killed. I had to get moving. I didn’t have time to wait for Ange to reach the dock ahead of us. Quickly, I kissed her on the cheek, threw off the headset, and swung open the door.

  “I’m right behind you,” she said, raising her voice enough for me to hear her over the engine.

  I glanced back, gave her a nod, then stepped down onto the starboard pontoon and splashed into the water. It was low tide and the water was only a few feet deep, allowing me to slosh up toward the
sandy beach practically in a full sprint. The popular beach was littered with umbrellas, coolers, and beach towels. I ran right by a couple of kids building sand castles alongside a row of women in bikinis, lying on their backs as the tropical sun bronzed their bodies.

  My Converse low-tops were soaked and coated with fine sand as I made my way across a small patch of grass and onto a concrete path. The four-story hotel, with its rows of balconies, faced the ocean and towered over me. I stormed across the edge of the small parking lot and through the sliding glass door at the hotel’s main entrance. I headed straight for the check-in counter, getting sand and water all over the gray tile floor. There were a few people sitting in the lobby, reading newspapers and watching sports highlights. I didn’t care about making a scene. I needed to get to Charles and Rashad, and I needed to do it quickly.

  “What room number is Rashad Nadar staying in?” I asked.

  I pulled my shirt up slightly, letting the woman behind the counter see my Sig. She was young and pretty and was smiling until she caught a glance of my weapon. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide.

  “It’s okay,” I said, dropping my shirt back down and raising my hand. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I need his room number now.”

  She nodded, then stepped toward the computer in front of her and typed in a few keys. Her hands were shaking as she navigated to the right page.

  “He’s in 304,” she said in as calm of a tone as she could muster.

  My mind was firing on all cylinders. I couldn’t just barge in through the front door. I needed to catch them off guard somehow.

  “I need a key to room 404, now!”

  She looked at me like I was crazy, so I again showed her my weapon.

  I could sense that the other people in the lobby were growing suspicious. They were staring at me as I watched them through my peripherals. The woman typed a few more keys, scanned a card, then handed it to me.

  “The guests haven’t checked out yet,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “Call 9-1-1,” I said, staring deep into her eyes. “Make sure they send an ambulance.”