by Tom Fugate
Having a secure place at the south end of Florida to keep boats at made a lot of sense when you thought about it. You could launch clandestine operations into the waters south and east of Florida and not worry about people wondering about the really expensive boats coming and going. The majority of boats in the marina were really owned by rich people who wanted the security. Some were even owned by the criminal elements. Those poor criminal bastards had no earthly idea about all of the after market items that had been added to the boats they were using to break the law. The cover and security of the place were water tight like the attic door of a submarine. It was the perfect place to park my “Wild Turkey”.
We locked up the boat, activated the security system and set our own code into the lock on the gate to our slip. I checked in from the payphone near the office. The voice at the ops center was not one I recognized, but there were quite a few people involved. We would not be going straight to Miami; there was a detour in our future. In the parking lot was the car that Jacob would be driving. This vehicle, except for color, would be familiar to anyone who watched Friday night NBC in the 80’s. Parked there was a yellow car that at first glance could be mistaken for a Dino Ferrari. It was actually a replica from the same company in Bloomingdale, TN that made them for the TV show “Miami Vice”. The color was a bit bright but then who would think you were up to something in a car that glowed in the dark. Jacob got behind the wheel after our bags were in the trunk and we headed south on the Overseas Highway for a Saturday night dinner in Key West courtesy of the Central Intelligence Agency. They had a stake in the operation and were going to brief us on their involvement and what they were after. A meeting with the CIA in Key West, wonder if that had happened very often? Probably!
Chapter 10
When we got to our destination and found a place to park the sun was an hour or so away from heading down in the west. John and a couple of other people were waiting for us at the outside bar of the restaurant that had been selected for our meeting. The two additional people were a man and a woman. He had the nervous look of someone not used to being in the field. I had him pegged as a data analyst. He was just nervous enough to not quite fit in with the crowd. The brunette woman was obviously somewhat used to being in the field or she had recently been through some training. She looked like she had not been out of college more than a year or so. Most people would never peg her for anything other than a tourist. I noticed the eyes constantly scanning the crowd and not the scenery. Most of us wear some sort of glasses to hide our eyes if we can. She was on alert. The really good, really expert operatives look over the crowd but it is never obvious, they are just there. They are the invisible ones, the true hard core.
As we had walked in the door John had signaled the waiter and two cold Red Strip beers were put in front of us as we sat down. Not my favorite beer but appropriate for that part of the world. The table had several plates of appetizers/bar snacks sitting and waiting for us. I had the feeling that this would not be a long meeting. The spooks from the CIA can be like mythical monsters and avoid the mundane of the world if at all possible. These two obviously wanted to get back to the safety of Langley.
“So John, why are we here?” I saw them looking at my companion, “This is Jonesy, a specialist in boating and major mayhem. John, you have never met him but you know about him. Sand Trap.” The last two words were the name of the mission where Jacob Jones and I had met in August 1981. John’s eyes brightened.
“Johansen?” He grinned when both of us nodded and then held out a hand to Jacob. “Good to meet you at last.” The CIA types looked a bit lost. “Something from the past that is still need to know only,” John said turning his face toward the two Langley employees as he spoke.
“Again, why am I here? What is so important that you had to fly down to the Keys?” The analyst type looked real twitchy as I looked at him and spoke. The woman less so but she still looked uncomfortable. They had screwed something up or missed something and were in damage control mode. I had seen that look on enough paper pushers to recognize it.
“We had supplied information on the Cubans that Robertson is using as contacts in Cuba for his drug trade. After the ball started rolling on this op we found out that some high ranking KGB agents are also involved. We brought you a briefing packet.” The woman was speaking and laid a manila envelope on the table as she did so. I had still not been given a name to call her, but then that is not unusual in a meeting like this. What I did not know I could not tell anyone by accident or under duress.
“So why are you here trying to cover you asses? You could have just sent this information along channels. What did you screw up, because the fact that you are here indicates a major screw up.” My face took on a hard cold visage. I paused for dramatic effect and took a drink of my beer and got some of the bar snacks. My choice was a loaded potato skin. John was just sitting there looking serious at them. Jacob had a smile as he bit into some nachos, a smile that would scare small children. The thing was that when people like this pair start covering their butts it means that they have put someone in danger. Jacob and I were those people that the screw up could put into dangerous straits. I don’t play those games. Put my butt in a sling and you will be right there with me.
“We discounted the original information. It just did not seem plausible that a high ranking member of the KGB would be in Cuba dealing in drugs. Then two more sources passed the same intel. When we finally looked at the discounted data we saw ties to drugs and rebels all over Central and South America.” The woman was doing the talking. The desk jockey type was not in good mental shape. “If he is there then there are several enforcer types with him. We are worried that he is here for more than the drug dealing. He may be running agents in the US.” There it was they had refused to believe information and now they were scared that they had really screwed up.
“I read the same briefings that you do. The folks in the KGB know that the cold war is winding down. Hell, the USSR may be winding down. A lot of the ranking types are trying to make money. They always have, just now they are more open about it. So how does that involve me?” The fact that KGB people were going capitalist was something of an open secret. They had gotten into the drug trade in Afghanistan during the Russian invasion.
“So what am I supposed to do?” I kept my face smiling as I asked that question. After all this was supposed to be some friends or acquaintances having a get together on Key West.
“Just gather any intel you can from him. We need corroboration of why he is here.” The man was speaking this time. His voice sounded nervous.
I looked at Jacob and John before I spoke again. They were both shaking their heads slowly.
“Do you have any concept of the people we’re dealing with? Some of these heavy duty smugglers make the KGB look like your Great Aunt Matilda, sweet, kindly and gentle.” I looked at the woman. “First I need a name to call you. You have some field experience?” She nodded slowly while trying to avoid my eyes boring into her. “Where?”
“East Germany and Hungary. I went in to pick up information.” She seemed to have gotten hold of herself a bit. “My name is Sylvia.”
“Fine are the two of you staying the night or flying right back?” I turned my head from one of them to the other.
“We are headed back this evening out of Miami airport.” Her voice was growing more confident.
“Not now. Get rooms near the airport and wait for a call. You will both have orders by morning. You,” I pointed at her, “are now part of this operation and you,” I pointed at the man, “are going to be working with John.” Their mouths dropped open. I pulled a roll of bills out of a pocket and counted out five pictures of Benjamin Franklin. “This is for expenses. Return your rental car after you have rooms. Before you tell me that I don’t have the authority to do this I will admit that you are correct in that, but my boss does.” My voice dropped about half an octave when I spoke those last words. Jacob was grinning again, John was grinning li
ke the Cheshire cat and the two CIA people were in shock. I ate another potato skin and tried the nachos. They were pretty good. I finished my beer and looked at Jacob, “You ready?” I stood up and picked up the envelope with the briefing packet.
Draining his beer he stood and grinned at me, “Captain, I was born ready.”
I looked him in the eye and smiled, “Okay time to head north. By the way it’s Major now.” I turned to John, “You got this?”
John was in his element, he liked making people uncomfortable. He had done it to me when we first met. “I got this. They will have new orders by morning.”
With that Mr. Jones and I left the establishment and headed for his car. We decided to worry about my vehicle in the morning. I have never liked people messing with me. This difference in me now was that I was older and I was learning how to make people uncomfortable from professionals like John. John had had the skill and then had learned more from General John Fleming, US Army retired. No one, I mean no one messed with the General. The moon was out as we drove north with the top down. I think that yellow car may not have glowed in the dark but it did seem to glow in the moonlight. As we drove we realized that we had not had dinner. Stopping to eat we sat, ate, talked and tried to figure out exactly what had so spooked the CIA types. Nothing obvious came to either of us, but we would find out.
When we headed on to the north after dinner we did not talk much. The feeling was similar to the feeling of being on that chopper headed into an operation or a hot Landing Zone. Each of us was getting our heads around the things that were to come. If a couple of CIA employees who were not field agents were worried enough to fly to south Florida for a briefing then there was definitely something really big going down. If a situation is really screwed up there is always that little voice in the back of your head telling you just how fucked over you are. That little voice was the only conversation I had until a few blocks from the safe house, and then Jacob asked me for directions. I am sure that he was talking to his own little voices as we drove through the moonlit evening.
We pulled his yellow Ferrari copy into the garage and closed the door behind us. The secure line rang within five minutes of our entering the house.
“Hello,” I used the most generic answer that is possible on a phone. I did not want to use my real or cover name until I knew who was on the other end. There was always the possibility of a real wrong number.
“Lee, open that briefing packet if you have not already and put this on speaker. Mr. Jones needs to hear this also. His ass is hanging out just like yours is.” I put the phone on speaker as General Fleming had instructed. Jacob had walked into the room just as I picked up the phone. “The man that the analysts you just met with are worried about is Yuri Andropov Leonid. He is a high ranking member of the KGB. His rank is not the problem. His division of the KGB is. He has access to nuclear weapons and we are worried that he may be trying to make a sale. Make sure that both of you remember this man’s face. As of right now he takes priority over Robertson. Melvin is dangerous but not as much as a greedy man with access to nuclear weapons.”
That was great news, sarcasm very much intended. We had a Russian agent with access to nukes trying to make his fortune by dealing with Columbians, Bolivians and only God knew who else. The last thing the world needed was for the drug wars to go atomic. The different cartels were shooting at each other whenever possible.
“Not good sir, not good at all.” I said as Jacob turned almost as white as me.
“No Lee it is not. He may only be trying to involve himself in the drug trade, but those same dealers have truckloads of currency and might be interested if he makes an offer or they find out what he could provide. My sources tell me that he did not bring any devices with him. We need to make sure of that and see that he has no chance to import anything. You have authorization to take any necessary steps to prevent import of nukes into this hemisphere. Extreme measures are allowed. Your authorization is from the highest level. HE signed the orders in my presence.” The he that the General referred to was the President.
President Reagan was not a man who took orders like that lightly. I had met him twice. The first time had been after the little adventure that Jacob and I had been on together; I got a medal, Silver Star, from him that time. The second time I had traveled to the Oval office had been to have orders signed. That occasion had been just a few months before. We had talked for a few minutes after he had signed the documents. We talked about guns, movies and some general chit chat. You had to admire a man who could sign someone’s death warrant and then take the time to ease the mind of the executioner. We had both known that the orders were necessary but neither of us really like having to do something like that.
“Yes, General I understand that extreme measures are authorized.” I had just been given the authorization to kill a member of the KGB. Actions like that are never taken lightly. During the height of the cold war killing one of theirs would probably get one of ours killed, but the cold war was winding down. You also had to figure that most of the Russian leadership did not want any loose nuclear weapons traced back to them. At least a part of me hoped that was the case.
“Remember Lee that extreme measures are authorized, not required,” his voice was fatherly as he said that. “Some things a man should only do as a last option. You can lose your humanity in this line of work.” He paused and then continued in a firmer voice, “John informed me of your orders to the CIA people. They will be working for you as of 2 AM this morning. The call with the orders should wake them up. They should have caught this sooner. I expect that they will be royally chewed out after they are rousted out of bed. I know their immediate boss was and his boss and so on.” The man had a sense of the dramatic and probably a mean streak. My boss was not a man you wanted pissed off at you. I wondered who had administered the ass chewing that had begun the snowball of yelling downhill. I knew that the CIA director was probably involved but I was curious who had chewed him out.
Chapter 11
Since it had not been extremely late when we got back to Miami and the safe house both of us had gotten a good nights sleep. Jacob was up before me and made coffee, a typical Navy type of coffee that was strong enough to remove rust from armor plate. Of course it was dangerous as a rust remover; it would dissolve the metal if you left it on too long. We planned our day over the coffee. He would drive me to my vehicle and then familiarize himself with the area and pick up some supplies. I had to go to the airport and pick Sylvia up from her hotel. She would be living in the safe house for the duration. If she was any good in the field it might be an advantage having a woman with me or Jacob at times. I checked in with John before we left. Just as the General had said the calls went out to our two friends from Langley around 2 AM and they were awaiting further orders from us. John was going to pick up the guy. I found out his name was Howard and that basically he was a computer nerd who also got to see raw data. He was going to be in the central command for our little venture. I would sound Sylvia out on the trip back to the safe house from her overnight accommodations. We needed to find out fast what her skill set was. We now had her file, but words on paper do not give a view into the person’s mindset and raw talent.
It was about 9 AM when Jacob got me to my car at the general aviation area of the Miami airport. I was thumping on Sylvia’s door within fifteen minutes after that. John had given me the room number. Either she did not like her companion or she did manage to practice some basic tradecraft. Their rooms were on separate floors. Widely separated rooms make you look less like you are together. Of course, I could have been giving her credit when it had been the hotel that was responsible. Maybe the separated rooms were all that were available. She answered on the third thump and was already dressed and ready to go. I think that she had been waiting for someone to arrive. She picked up her bag and we walked down to my car and got in. The very fact that she had a go bag with her for what had not been scheduled to be an overnight trip raised my opinion of
her. The lady thought ahead and planned for things to go wrong. She was wearing jeans, sneakers and a loose fitting shirt with the tail hanging out.
“Are you armed?” I asked her after the car door closed.
“No sir, I am not authorized for weapons on this trip.” She was still a bit taken aback by the entire situation.
“You are now. What are you qualified with?”
“The usual, handgun, rifle and shotgun.”
“Any handgun preference?” If I was going to arm her it would be with the weapon that she was most comfortable with.
“No, I shoot most anything well.” I like that in a woman.
“Okay then,” I turned on the phone and called John’s local contact number. He answered on the second ring.
“What can I do for you Lee?” Only three people had that number so he was pretty sure it was probably me calling at that time of day. Those were the days before caller id on cell phones. In fact the cell phones were rather large.
“We are going to need weapons and the appropriate credentials for Miss Pyne. Walther, .38 snub and leather and ammo. See if you can also find something small. A baby Browning or a .25 Beretta should do. I have an extra long gun if she needs that. How long will that take?”
“Creds are already in the works and I will call you back as soon as I have a timeline on the weapons. I will also see about some range time.” He was ahead of me on that one and thinking about letting her get familiar with the guns that might save her life. I had not thought of that but then he is more an administrator type than I am. Knowing John as I did, I knew it would be only a few short hours to get the items together but within the hour would not surprise me.