Just a Happy Camper

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Just a Happy Camper Page 18

by Jinx Schwartz


  Rather than doing anything fancy, and since we were not in any danger of being blown into another vessel, I just raised anchor and let the wind turn the boat sideways and blow us away from the beach. We’d re-anchor when we were in deeper, albeit rougher, water.

  And, after we searched for Antoine and Jeff.

  I ordered all hands on deck for the hunt.

  While running a simple grid, I schooled my crew on the basics of looking for someone in the water, so when we found the men, we’d be ready to run a smooth recovery operation.

  “Hetta, the tide has turned and is swift. Remember that fisherman who fell overboard outside La Paz last year?” Jan asked.

  “I was just thinking about that. When he went overboard, the north wind and outgoing tide took him out to sea. A Navy helicopter out of La Paz was dispatched, but by the time it got too dark, they still hadn’t found him. And lo and behold, just before dawn the next morning, the guy knocked on the hull of a sailboat only a few yards away from the panga he fell from.”

  Nacho said, “Yes, it is the nature of the Sea of Cortez. With only one tide a day, many have ridden it out and back in. Most local fishermen don’t know how to swim, as strange as that may seem, but many have been returned safely by the sea.”

  Jan laughed. “See, Hetta, nothing to fear in your case. With your BMI you don’t have to swim, just float.”

  “So, I’ll survive and you won’t?”

  Nacho shook his head at our bickering. “Jeff and Antoine are strong, so I am not too worried. Roger and Craig are walking the beach, just in case they show up there.”

  “Not where the narcos are, I hope.”

  “No, definitely not. The narco operation is looking grimmer by the moment, what with the tide filling their vehicle. That trailer’s still above the waterline, but not for long.”

  “Okay, let’s just hang out here and search until—”

  My depth sounder alarm went off, jarring all of us.

  Checking the screen, all I saw was red.

  “What’s going on?” Jackie B asked.

  “Jan, go below and check the depth sounder at the lower steering station.”

  She was back in a flash. “Solid red.”

  “Okay, gang, we are either on top of an extremely dense fish school, or almost aground, or—”

  “Hetta! Bubbles!”

  I quickly put us in reverse, away from whatever we were on top of, but I had a pretty good idea. “Submarine! Nacho, break out the weapons! Jan, kill the spot and all lights! We’re outta here!”

  The minute we turned out to sea, we were met with the dreaded turbulence of wind and sea duking it out in order to make life miserable for boaters. The waves were not all that high, but what Sea of Cortez cruisers refer to as square waves. We were not in danger due to the size and weight of the boat, but it was a seasick-making situation for many. Luckily, not me.

  While we were getting away from the sub, we were also on the lookout for Jeff and Antoine. And Nacho was on the radio with Roger, discussing our next move. Nacho was in favor of letting the narcos, if they were able, transfer the arms to the sub, then we’d follow them.

  “We are not leaving the area until I get Antoine back on board this boat, or he shows up at the beach, Nacho.”

  “Of course not. But, once Antoine and Jeff are safe, and the sub is loaded, will you agree to follow it?”

  “Only if you convince me why this is so damned important that you’d steal my boat, and now ask me to follow a submarine.”

  “Yeah, Nacho. Why?” Jan demanded. “And don’t you dare say if you tell us you’ll have to kill us.”

  He sighed, not looking at us because all eyeballs were glued to the surrounding sea, searching for Jeff and Antoine. “This shipment contains some very lethal and dangerous weapons destined for the wrong hands. Those of a new cartel that has formed in Sonora.”

  “So what’s new? And quite frankly who cares?” I scoffed. “They’ve been offing each other for years. Fine with me, by the way. So long as innocents aren’t caught in the crossfire.”

  “Have you heard of the recent skirmishes along the Arizona border?”

  “Yep. Roger said bullets are flying into the US side, but he thinks they’re just stray shots, and so far no one in the States has been hit. So, what’s so new? Punks will be punks.”

  “The nature of the battle has changed. This new cartel is not just a bunch of low-lifes with leaders like El Chapo and other sociopaths, who are successful by sheer lack of conscience.”

  “And the new guys are a batch of Harvard grads?” Jackie B asked.

  Nacho nodded. “You are closer than you know. They have friends in very high places, and their goal is to take over the Mexican government. Drugs are not at the forefront, but taking control of the government means first taking control of the cash to do so. Thus all the new skirmishes.”

  “Hang on everyone, I’m going to turn her into the wind and we’ll be surfing and slewing. We’re far away enough to turn on the spotlight again, so keep a sharp eye for our guys. That is my only mission for the moment.”

  Even Nacho couldn’t disagree, because as far as we knew, the sub and arms hadn’t made a connection yet.

  Jan, scanning to our right, asked, “So Nacho, just what kind of weapons are you talking about here? And if you knew about them, why didn’t you just call in the military and arrest these dudes?”

  “First off, many of the military leaders have divided loyalties. And trust me, we don’t want this shipment to end up on either side. Like I said before, this is not a drug cartel as we’ve come to know them. In fact, just the opposite. America Nueva, as they call themselves, want to wipe the drug cartels from the face of Mexico.”

  “Can’t argue with that idea. Yet they are using narcos as delivery boys?”

  “For now. They are smart and are using an already in-place system, and gathering names and places as they go. If El Chapo were not already in jail, he would be one of the first they’d send straight to hell.”

  “So, why are we trying to keep them from doing it?”

  “Because they have no boundaries in their thinking. They will do anything they deem necessary to take over.”

  “A military coup?”

  “Not that civilized. More like a countrywide cleansing. Starting with Mexico City.”

  “Ignacio,” I said, using his given name, which he hates, “just what is in that small trailer that is so important to them?”

  “Anthrax.”

  Had we invoked the cuss jar rule, it would be at least sixty or seventy dollars richer. However, I waived the rule, because three of those expletives were mine.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Anthrax?” I screeched.

  “Yes, according to Jeff.”

  “Jeff? How the hell does he know?”

  “He told me someone he worked with had gotten wind of it through informants. I was contacted by people we both know, who put us together. Only when we went to the boatyard to liberate your boat did he realize it was yours.”

  “Liberate? Evidently I need to get better people in my life, since your people and Jeff’s people are obviously far superior to mine.”

  “Café, as you know, the Baja is a small place, and those of us who make it our business to know what happens are loosely connected. The shipment was supposed to be stopped before it reached the beach, but Jeff and I wanted to make sure. And here we are.”

  Jan was on her phone Googling weaponized anthrax.

  “What did you find?” I asked.

  “A little bit goes a long way.”

  “Hetta! I think I saw a light,” Jackie B yelled, pointing northward. “Must be connected to this whole thing, because no one in their right mind is out here.”

  “Like us?” I said. “Kill the spot so we can see the light. All eyes north.”

  “There!” Jackie B said. “Dead ahead!”

  I slowed down, which made our ride even wonkier, but if there was something out there like
a warning beacon of some kind, I didn’t want to run over it. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a blink.

  Distances at night are hard to judge, so I glanced at the radar and sure enough, since I had reduced my radar’s scope to a half-mile, I spotted an anomaly nestled between the wind waves.

  “I’m going in on the wind side, try to protect whatever it is. Actually, once I block the wind, the tide will bring it to us if it’s moveable. Okay, spotlight back on, aim at that light.”

  “OMG, Hetta. It’s the kayak!”

  “Recovery mode! Jan, go get the man overboard sling ready, and grab a line in case you have to lasso that kayak. Jackie, do not take your eyes from the target. Don’t even blink. Nacho, get the boat hook, and then get back up here to help Jackie watch. I have to maneuver the boat, so let me know when we get close. And like I said, the kayak should come to us when we get in place.”

  The next few minutes were tense as I fought to safely approach the kayak. I was using engines and throttles only, because steering was useless in this kind of situation. My powerful diesels and large props made my life a lot easier, but sometimes a delicate touch is required. Jenks drilled me well.

  The two-way radio crackled, reminding us that we had another team on shore. “What are you guys up to out there? We can see you moving around,” Roger asked, not even bothering with “overs” at this point.

  “You take it, Nacho. Tell him we’re busy.”

  “We are recovering a kayak. Busy. We’ll get back to you.”

  “Make it fast,” Roger yelled, urgency clear in his voice.

  “Hetta! Someone’s hanging on to the kayak, and waving,” Jan hollered.

  “Please, please, make it Antoine.”

  “Hetta, damnit, are you gonna pray, or get your kid out of the water?”

  “Lasso that kayak and walk it around, I’m going to neutral. Jackie B, stay up here and keep an eye on where we’re drifting. Hopefully not far, what with the conflicting elements. It’s going to be a really rough ride up here.”

  “Got it.”

  Jan and Nacho pulled the kayak alongside, and were walking it to the aft.

  “Antoine!” I yelled. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  I went to my cabin and grabbed some of Jenks’s sweats and a couple of towels, and made my way to the aft deck, arriving just as Antoine climbed the ladder to the protected deck. “You’re bleeding! What happened?”

  I wrapped a towel around his head and guided him toward the stairs down to the main cabin, but his legs gave out. Nacho rushed to help and we maneuvered Antoine to a chair, and began asking him questions to determine if he had a concussion.

  I was torn between going back to the helm and making sure Antoine was going to be all right, and was relieved when Antoine said, “I think I am dehydrated and suffering from hypothermia. Nacho, would you mind helping me into a hot shower?”

  “Of course. Hetta, I’ll help Antoine. We need you back on the helm, so go ahead and get us re-anchored. And please call Roger back, it might be urgent.”

  “Roger, Roger. Jan, gimme a hand.”

  While I moved the boat to a place I felt was safe to drop anchor again, Jan filled Roger and Craig in on what we had been doing, and what we’d seen and done.

  “So Antoine seems okay, other than a bump on the head and a little too much time in the water?” Roger asked.

  “Seems so. We’re on the lookout for Jeff, but my guess is he’ll end up on the beach. Have you told Becky that he’s missing?”

  “Yes, needless to say, she’s very upset. She wants to come out to your boat, but Chino talked her out of it by saying her getting in trouble would just make things worse. I’ll tell Becky what you said about Jeff showing up on shore.”

  “That’s our take. What did you want to tell us earlier?”

  “The narcos have a diver in the water, and they’ve launched an inflatable with a big outboard. Just a guess, but it looks to us as if they plan to tow that trailer out to the sub. Does Nacho want us to try and stop them?”

  I took the two-way from Jan. “No! Uh, I mean, uh…I’ve started the generator, and turned on our sat system, so standby for a phone call. Okay?”

  “Got it.”

  Roger answered on the first ring. “This is so much better. By the way, I think the wind is letting up.”

  “Thank goodness for that. Okay, here’s the deal. That trailer is loaded with weaponized anthrax.”

  “Holy crap! To say that’s bad news is an understatement. I’ve got to tell Craig asap. He’ll be the expert, what with him being a vet. I’ve some experience with the real deal, but not for many years. Craig and I, because of our cattle and veterinary business on both sides of the border, have been vaccinated. So, what now?”

  “Not sure, Nacho’s helping Antoine right now. I’ll tell him to call you. Text us updates on the narcos. Jan and I have to get this tub re-anchored.”

  We backed down hard on the anchor, then attached double snubbers and let out chain so the tied-off high tensile strength lines on either side would prevent Raymond Johnson from sheering wildly like she had been. No more coming up tight on her chain at the end of each run, then shaking us like a dog worrying a bone.

  And, according to my anemometer, the wind had dropped some, so the elements had reached détente for now. However, if the wind suddenly stopped, we would swap ends as the tide pushed us around and the transition was not going to be a fun ride.

  Jackie B volunteered to stand anchor watch and be on the lookout for Jeff, so Jan and I went down to check on Antoine and update Nacho.

  Dressed in Jenks’s warmies, Antoine was drinking his third bottle of water, and also sipping a tumbler of straight brandy. He and Nacho had been in deep conversation, which suspiciously stopped when we entered the cabin.

  I pretended not to notice. “Jan! The booze locker is open.”

  Nacho didn’t even argue. “Get your drinks and sit down.”

  Uh-oh, that sounded ominous.

  Jan and I shared a look, then grabbed two mini-bottles of whatever was handy. I got bourbon and she, rum, so we traded.

  “Okay,” I said, what were you two conspiring about?”

  Nacho went to the bar and poured a double shot of hundred dollar a bottle Tequila he’d left there earlier in the year. Lucky for him I’m not that fond of the stuff.

  Antoine took a sip of brandy and squared his shoulders. “We found the submarine with your handheld depth sounder, and then Jeff hit me.”

  “What?” Jan and I both yelped.

  “He hit me. Twice. It was not an accident, because I turned just in time to see his big flashlight coming at me.” He touched two places on his head that were no longer bleeding. “When he thought I was out, he threw me overboard and dove off the kayak himself. I guess he didn’t realize I had a tether.”

  “But why?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question.

  “I do not know, but I played dead, floating face-down. My mask allowed me to watch as a diver with a light arrived and gave him a tank and a regulator. I can hold my breath for almost three minutes, so they had no reason to think I was alive. When I thought they could no longer see me, I took a breath then watched as they entered the submarine through a hatch. At that time I swam away, then allowed the kayak to carry me until I was well out of their sight. I turned on my armband light, et voila! you found me.”

  “Thank goodness. Nacho, what do you make of this?”

  “I must only conclude I have been misled, and enticed into a scheme to use your boat as a backup plan to move the shipment.”

  “Good grief. The infallible Nacho got hornswoggled? Let’s talk with Roger. Here.” I handed Nacho my phone after putting it on speaker mode.

  Everyone agreed to do absolutely nothing except wait and watch until something of significance happened, but Roger warned that we might be in serious danger of being boarded by unfriendlies, now that Jeff was a proven turncoat.

  Jan and I went topsides to give Jackie B a
break, which she gratefully accepted.

  “What a cluster-F,” Jan said. “I don’t believe in coincidences, but Nacho’s right; little goes down in the Baja that he doesn’t know about.”

  “We do have an advantage: Jeff. No one on the beach or the sub knows that we know he’s dirty. That’s a huge ace in the hole.”

  “And,” Jan growled, “if we should ever be fortunate enough to get our hands on him, it will give me great pleasure to put Mr. Jeffy’s ace in a hole. One about six feet deep.”

  “I almost feel sorry for him.”

  We high-fived and chorused, “Not!”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Roger suggested we move the boat far away for our safety, but Nacho, who had joined Jan and I on the flying bridge, disagreed. He and I overrode Roger, agreeing (for once) we should stay near the action. Jackie B rejoined us, as we had agreed, because of the cold, to rotate every fifteen minutes.

  Before I went below, I told Jackie B she could kayak back to the beach, now that the weather changed, but she declined. “Are you kidding me? No way! I’m stickin’ around for the fun.”

  “Have you ever been shot at?” I asked.

  “No, but there’s a first time for everything. Besides, Gypsy and all of Chivato will be so jealous that I got in on a Hetta adventure.”

  “You can have some of mine,” Jan said.

  Jackie B laughed. “So, when Jeff and Antoine left, didn’t they take a large gun in a waterproof case?”

  “Crap! Nacho, what kind of gun was in that case, and its range.”

  He told us, then went below again to ask Antoine if he knew what happened to that weapon.

  I patted Jackie on the back. “Good catch. You’re gonna fit right in around here. And trust me, that’s not always a good thing.”

  Turned out Jeff took the M-16, so I wasn’t overly worried. We had two people on watch at all times, and since Antoine saw him with tanks, any underwater incursions would leave a trail of bubbles. False dawn and smoother water was making it much easier to see, as well.

 

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