“Terry?” he asked. What the fuck? I thought, but before I could react he ran over and was telling me, “We thought you were dead.”
“How do you know my name?” I demanded.
“I’m André”.
“I know who you are,” I snapped back.
“I’m a friend of Bruce’s.”
“I know that, too, but how do you know me?” I asked again.
“Well, we have never met but remember that night when Bruce stopped and gave you a ride when your motorcycle broke down? Well, I was driving the other car.”
I did remember the second car but never did inquire of Bruce or know what that was all about.
“Yes, I remember a second car. What happened to Bruce?” I asked.
“Well, there’s a problem.”
“Is he alive?” I demanded.
“Yes, but he’s not well.”
“Listen to me, André. I need to know what the fuck is going on here. Right from the beginning to now.”
“Come inside and I’ll tell you what I know,” he assured me.
Once inside the small office I asked again. “Alright, tell us everything that has happened since you saw me getting into Bruce’s car that night on the highway in South Florida.”
“Ok, we, Bruce and I, as well as Kevin, were coming back from Everglades City where we had a meeting with a guy by the name of Bishop.”
Bishop, I thought, then remembered that was a name I heard Kevin mention to Bruce that morning in the boat. He had said to Bruce that he hoped there would be no trouble with Bishop.
“So who’s this Bishop?” I asked André.
“He was a business partner of ours.”
“You and Bruce?” I asked.
Before André could answer I said, “Look man, don’t bullshit me about anything. I know Bruce was involved with illegal stuff. We’re here on account of his old man who hired us to find him. I want to know everything and where is Bruce, anyhow?”
“He is on the next island over – St. Barts being held by Bishop.”
“Bishop?” I asked.
“Yes, let me explain.”
André then explained that their meeting in Everglades City that night did not go well. When they proposed dissolving their partnership, Bishop threatened them.
“What kind of threat?”
“Well, let me go back a ways,” André said.
“Back in the mid-70s Bruce and I meet in Nassau. Our parents both had vacation homes near each other and Bruce and I became friends. As we got into our teens we started smoking pot and soon we were bringing pot from the island back into the States at the end of every summer. One thing led to another and by the time we were out of high school we were traveling back and forth between the Bahamas and South Florida on a regular basis with pot.
“As things escalated we started using boats and traveling from the Bahamas to South Florida where we would unload pot onto the shores of the Intracoastal in undeveloped areas along the river. The problem was that a lot of other people were doing the same thing and soon that whole southeast coast of Florida was a hot spot for being busted.
“Through the years and connections we met this guy Bishop who had set up runs into the southwest part of Florida where there were a lot more undeveloped areas. He knew the waters there well and we three became partners. Originally we were moving Jamaican weed but the Jamaican weed was not packed well and the supply had become unreliable.
“Bishop had made connections in Colombia and we started funneling weed up through these islands. Eventually though, the distance and the risk of being caught smuggling by boat became much greater.”
André went on to explain that his father had been an airline captain for a major airline. It’s what had actually moved his family from France to the United States when he was very young.
Growing up around airplanes, it was easy for him to have access to not only learning to fly but later on having access to airplanes. When the distances became greater they decided to transition from the boats to the airplanes.
“We ended up flying weed out of Colombia to the Bahamas, then using boats to bring it into the States. This was going well for many years but about a year ago Bishop wanted to get involved with the transport of cocaine. Although the money was greater and the loads lighter, Bruce and I were against it.
“We both grew up smoking pot and viewed it as a justifiable business venture but we were both against any transition to coke. We both had used it occasionally but saw it as an addictive drug and both knew people who have problems from it.”
“So what was the Bishop threat?” I asked.
“Well, that night in Everglades City he told us we were risking our lives if we didn’t do the transition. We left there that night with the intentions of cutting all ties with Bishop.”
“Ok, so if Bishop’s in Everglades City, then who were the people in the other boat shooting at us that morning?”
“When we reached West Palm Beach that night, I headed for the airport to catch a flight to St. Thomas. Bruce, you and Kevin went and got the boat and headed for Walker Cay. One of the DC3s was at the St. Thomas airport. I then flew up to meet with you guys and it was me that dropped the bales which you guys were retrieving.”
“So, how does Bishop figure into that?” I asked.
“Bishop knew we had about 20 bales of pot left on the plane and he knew we were going to be off-loading the pot from the plane to the boat in that area. We never believed he would actually kill someone over our refusal. We needed to unload the pot which was going to be our last drop.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Were you getting out of the business?”
“Well, our weed connection in Colombia is actually Bishop’s so that would be in jeopardy if we didn’t go along with him and, yes, through the years, these two DC3s have actually created a legitimate business. We move a lot of cargo around the larger islands and take scrap metal and aluminum back to the States.”
“Scrap metal?” I asked.
“Yeah, mostly empty aluminum beer and soda cans,” André informed me.
“Ok, so we were in the islands being shot at. How did Bishop know where and when and how the fuck did he get there as quick as we did?”
“Walker Cay has always been our rendezvous place and he had some of his men from Nassau meet you guys there. In hindsight, when they heard the plane they honed in on you guys.”
“So let me understand this,” I said. “You and Bruce say no to this guy Bishop and he then kills you. How does that help him or persuade you guys if you’re both dead?”
“Well, Bishop tells me that Bruce got shot by accident and that it was actually you and Kevin that were supposed to be killed.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Yes, you and Kevin were viewed as the cost of doing business. Bishop wanted to show Bruce he was serious.”
“Ok, so now Kevin’s dead, I’m supposed to be dead and they’re holding Bruce captive. I don’t get it.”
“Well, for the past month they have been holding Bruce sort of as a ransom until I complete a certain number of things for Bishop.”
“Things?” I asked.
“Yes, Bishop figures if I smuggle enough cocaine product into the United States it will entrench me enough into the process that he will have enough leverage on us to let Bruce go free.”
“So how many of these things have you done so far?” I asked André.
“I’ve made three trips so far into the Lauderdale airport with his product. I have three more trips there to complete our agreement. The problem is that each time the scrutiny at the airport is becoming more intense. I think the likelihood of me getting busted is very high.”
“And, if you tell Bishop no more, what then?” I asked.
“He assured me that Bruce would be a dead man and the film along with the pictures that were taken of the cocaine being loaded onto my planes would be turned over to the authorities.”
“Alright, so isn’t St. Bar
ts just south of here?” I asked.
“Yes, why?” André asked.
“Well, I’m thinking of going there. Do you know exactly where Bruce is?”
“Yeah, but if you go there it’s only going to make things worse than they already are.”
“I’m just going as a tourist for now,” I assured André. “They don’t know me or Tom. I’ll need an address from you and maybe some directions. Tell me this, André, how do you know Bruce is still alive anyhow?”
“I spoke with him just a few days ago and he assures me that if we do the six deals Bishop will honor his word. He also said that Bishop intends to use the six deals along with the film and pictures to ensure us doing future business with him.”
After getting the address and directions from André, we headed back to the boat. I told André I would be in touch with him in the next day or so and reassured him that I would be careful not to connect us with him should we run into this guy Bishop while in St. Barts.
“What now?” Tom asked as we left André’s office and headed back toward Joseph’s car.
“Well, I’m thinking we take us a little boat ride to St. Barts and just check things out.”
As we approached Joseph’s car he quickly got out and wanted to know if everything was ok.
“No problem,” I said, trying for my best Jamaican accent.
“No problem,” I said again - this time getting the sound of it down a little better. Joseph and his brother were of the French culture and that was only from living here on this island. They, in fact, looked and acted much more like Jamaicans and Rastafarians, each with dreadlocks that could reach halfway down their backs. For the most part, though, they wore them bundled up under a brightly colored wool hat that was pulled down over their dreads.
The ride back to the marina seemed pretty quick. I now had a load on my mind and trying to figure it all out seemed to distract me from the beautiful scenery the island afforded.
Getting out of the car, with my first glance over to the boat, I noticed Brian talking with a couple of girls. Good for him, I thought. I figured he was just running a line and they were eating up on it. At least he doesn’t have them on the boat, I thought, good man. As we got closer I realized that even from behind these women looked mighty familiar.
“Hey, Tommy,” I said. “ Don’t these . . .” Just then Brian pointed towards us and as the girls turned following his direction, Tom and I could both see it was Evonne and Ava.
Damn, I thought, what are the chances of that? They both ran the rest of the way down the dock and hugged each of us.
“Did you stand me up back in Nassau?” Ava asked me politely.
“Stand you up?” I asked.
“Yes, when you never showed up back at the boat that morning, I figured perhaps you didn’t want to see me again.”
I then remembered that the morning I was knocked out and tied up I was supposed to meet Tom and the girls back at the boat.
“Oh, no,” I said, “That’s not it at all. I actually ran into a situation that literally had me all tied up.”
She looked at me a bit confused and I assured her I could better explain later but right now it was great seeing them again.
“What are the chances of us running into each other?” I questioned aloud.
“Real good,” Evonne said. “This island is one of the major stop-offs for big cruise ships and this place has the best breakfast in the Caribbean.”
“Second best,” I shot back.
“Second?” the girls asked.
I didn’t actually know that for a fact. Although the boat was tied up here, we hadn’t eaten any of the restaurants’ food yet to know for sure.
“Anyway, where’s your ship?”
“It’s over in Great Bay,” Ava said. “Right off the coast of the town of Philipsburg on the Dutch side.”
“We haven’t gotten over there yet,” Tom informed the girls.
“Yeah, well it’s pretty touristy over there.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, it’s pretty much one main road that’s lined with restaurants, jewelry stores and t-shirt shops,” Ava informed us.
“Joseph tells us the night life is pretty crazy there,” I said.
“Yeah, pretty crazy,” Evonne added. “So what brings you guys way down here?” the girls wanted to know.
“We are still looking for our friend Bruce,” I told them.
“Any luck with that?”
“Well, in fact, yes. We think he is on the next island south of here.”
“St. Barts?” Ava asked.
“Yeah, that’s it,” I said.
“We have always wanted to go there but there is no deep water anchorage for a ship our size.”
“Well, we were headed there tomorrow. Want to go?”
As it turned out Ava and Evonne’s ship would be in anchorage for a few days and that they could go provided they were back by the following evening.
“Great,” I said. “We’ll make a day of it and it will give you a chance to get a ride on this little motorboat.”
“Hey, Joseph, how far is St. Barts from here?” I asked.
“Mon, it only like fifteen mile, very close.”
“It’s that close?” I asked.
“Yeah, mon, you want to see St. Barts?”
“Yeah, well, we will be going there tomorrow,” I informed him.
“No, mon, I show you St. Barts right now.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Come with me, mon, I show you St. Barts and more right from this island.”
“Hold on, how you goin’ to do that?” I wanted to know.
“Come now, I show you.”
He insisted that we all get in his car and I could tell he wanted to treat us to something special.
“Ok,” I said and asked the girls if they wanted to go.
“Yeah, mon, they go, too,” Joseph insisted. Before leaving Joseph asked us to bring our binoculars. At that point I figured he was going to take us to some great high vantage point on the island and figured it was a good thing.
We headed down the same roads we were on earlier on our way to breakfast. This time however, just before entering Grand Case, Joseph turned right onto a hilly dirt road. The further up the road we went, the rougher and narrower it got. Finally the road and hill ran out and there in front of us was this huge tower. It was a red and white tower that appeared to have been there for many, many years.
Strapped to the tower were various antennas and other devices that led me to believe the tower was still being used. There was no fence around the tower, no warning signs, and no ‘No Trespassing’ signs - just the tower and us five. Turning in a circle I could see we were up pretty high but the scrub brush blocked our view to about twenty feet in any direction.
Looking at Joseph, I asked, “St Barts?”
“Yeah, mon, right up there.”
“You mean climb the tower?”
“Yeah, mon, climb tower.”
Alright, I thought, I can do that. It only took about fifteen feet of tower height and I could see this was going to be good.
“See anything?” They all wanted to know.
“Oh, yeah,” was my reply as I kept climbing to more height.
The tower was all of a couple hundred feet high but at about fifty feet you didn’t need to climb any higher. This tower was the old fashioned style that started at about 20 by 20 feet at the base and gradually got narrower at the top. At about 50 feet in the air, it was still at least 10 feet on a side with plenty of stuff to hang onto. With encouragement, daring and a promise of an unbelievable view, I was able to coax all to the 50 foot level.
There we all stood clinched to this tower enjoying far vistas of not only St. Maarten but other neighboring islands, as well. With the aid of the binoculars, I did see St. Barts for the first time.
We must have stood on that tower for a good thirty minutes before someone suggested getting down before getting too t
ired to do so. Getting back to the car we were all exhausted from the endeavor but all agreed that it was one for the history book.
On the way back to the boat I was thinking of my conversation with André and how much we didn’t talk about. With that in mind I asked Joseph to head back to the airport.
As we were about to enter the airport I noticed a bar right on the beach at the end of the runway. I asked Joseph to stop there first. Once in the parking lot I asked Tom to hang there with the girls while I ran back over to André’s place.
“Sure,” he said. “You gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” I assured him, “I’ll be back in about an hour.”
With that, Joseph and I headed back toward the hangars and André’s office. It had only been a few hours since we were there and both planes were still in the same place. Entering the office, André was surprised to see me.
“Problem?” he asked.
“No,” I said, “but after our conversation this morning, I realized I still had a lot of unanswered questions.”
“What?” he asked.
“Well, right off, I’d like to know who the fuck knocked me out and locked me in a closet.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“Well, what I didn’t tell you is that before coming here we went to Nassau looking for Bruce. There we found a house on Paradise Island where he had been seen. I went there, broke in, found a passport with your name and picture on it. Then got knocked out and locked in a closet.”
André looked genuinely surprised enough by my story that I believed him when he said he knew nothing about it. He was wondering how we had found the house to begin with. He explained that often he or Bruce would go to Nassau either for business or pleasure and the house served for a place to hang out.
When I asked about the passport he explained that he had several different passports he used depending on where he was trying to get in or out of. He figured the guys who knocked us out were most likely Bishop’s men as they knew of the house.
In the course of our conversation we got most things straightened out and I got a sense of André being on the up and up with me although, after the last extension of trust with Bruce, I kept all possibilities open.
Adventures In A Pair-A-Dice Page 11