Bermuda Conspiracy

by K D McNiven

“You’ll figure it out, or else your wife will suffer the consequences. I’ll call you in an hour with instructions.”

  “You lousy son-of-a…” the phone went dead. Decker inhaled deeply trying to maintain some composure but what he wanted to do was rip the man’s arms and legs off.

  Without a word, they turned back and rushed up the steps into the station house.

  Bewilderment was written all over Brock’s face as they plopped down in the chairs in front of his desk. “Something else I should know?”

  “One of the men called a minute ago demanding ransom,” Decker said.

  “Brief me.” Pressing forward, Brock wrote out the details as Decker recounted the phone call and what demands Rafiq made. Brock stopped writing and looked up. “Ten million dollars? How will you come up with that kind of money?”

  Decker leveled his gaze on Brock. “I have the money, Detective. It’s a matter of getting it together in such a short time That’s an issue.”

  Brock looked astonished.

  “I’m independently wealthy—an inheritance. This is not the time to go into it. Later.”

  Brock rubbed his stubbled chin wearily. “I’m afraid if you deposit the cash, the chance of getting Mrs. Hayden out alive is slim.”

  “You think I haven’t thought of that?”

  “Do you think you can talk him into a drop?”

  Decker shrugged. “He’s not a fool. I’m sure he would suspect an army of elite forces to drop from the sky if he chanced a meeting with me as opposed to me making a direct deposit.”

  “We have to come up with something. And fast.”

  “There has to be a clue where they’re staying,” Dax said.

  One of the officers walked over to the desk and tossed a file into the middle. “Here’s what we have.”

  Brock flipped open the file. He read through multiple papers before looking up. “Seems Rafiq had multiple calls from Syria over the last couple of years. I’m not sure how that tidbit of information happened to slip through the cracks when he was purportedly on a terrorist watch list. No doubt heads will roll on this botched up incident.”

  “To whom?”

  “No idea…yet. I’m going to run it through our data systems and see if I can’t come up with a name. In the meantime, Decker, we need to find a way to stall Rafiq,” Brock told him.

  “I don’t think that will be an easy task,” Decker said. “But I’ll give it my best shot.” He glanced down at his watch. Thirty minutes left. Decker had to come up with something and quick.

  “And Decker, I’m happy to call off the search for Callie at the lake, grateful she’s alive. We’ll catch them.”

  Once more they were left to wait. Decker paced the precinct floor, his nerves stretched taut. He felt helpless and anger pulsed through him. His mind invoked every conceivable solution to getting Callie back alive as the minutes ticked by.

  Decker jerked when his phone buzzed. Instinctively, he knew it was going to be the terrorist calling. He inhaled deeply and tried to calm his shaking hands. Standing close to Brock’s desk, he flipped on speakerphone.

  Brock flapped his arms like a bird in flight and gave a sharp whistle, signaling for everyone in the room to quiet down so he could hear what was being said.

  “Yep,” Decker said.

  “It’s time, Hayden.”

  “Look, I tried. I can get cash, but not in this short of time,” Decker ground out. “I can scrape up a few thousand dollars, but you’ll have to allow me the opportunity to get the rest.”

  “You’re stalling,” Rafiq’s cold, unrelenting voice sounded.

  “I’m telling you the truth. If you want the full amount, you’ll have to give me a couple of days to cash in bonds and investments. I don’t have that kind of cash laying around.”

  It was quiet as a tomb on the other end. After several minutes passed, Rafiq said, “You have 72 hours. No more. If you do not come up with the money by then, your wife will buy herself cement shoes. Then you will be dredging the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain.”

  A cold chill ran down Decker’s spine. “Again, if you harm Callie, I will hunt you down and slice you into ribbons. I will rip out your throat and feed it to you!”

  He laughed shortly. “Mr. Hayden, you amuse me. You have no leverage, and you’ll never find me. But if I were you, I’d watch my back. You never know who might be lingering in the shadows.” He let the veiled threat hang.

  When the line went dead, Decker turned his attention to Brock. “We have seventy-two hours. Put every man available on this. If we don’t find this lunatic, who knows what his next deadly assault will be.”

  “Already on it, Decker,” Brock replied. “We’ll do everything humanly possible to bring this cell to a shattering conclusion and try to get your wife safely back to you.”

  ***

  Dax made a call to Captain Manning on board the Shark Eater. They would need a vehicle to get around New Orleans since the other two vehicles were demolished. They would make their first stop at the hospital to check in on Karina. The doctors informed them she’d woken and was now able to have visitors.

  Chase met them outside the station in a newly rented Honda CR-V. He honked twice as he rolled up to the curb.

  Decker and Dax hurried over to the black Honda and slid inside. They filled Chase in on the details as they made their way across town to the hospital. When Chase heard what they had suffered so far, shock set in. He couldn’t imagine what Decker and Callie must be going through.

  The elevator doors rolled back and the three of them entered the recovery ward. The halls were bustling with nurses and doctors. Patients were lined up against the walls, still on stretchers, waiting to be admitted. Swarms of people had entered the hospital after the blast in need of medical attention, generating major congestion throughout.

  The three of them shouldered their way through the throngs of people until they made it to the make-shift medical room Karina was now stationed in. Her eyes lit up when she saw them enter.

  Dax hurried over to her bedside and gathered her fingers into his hand. “Karina, so glad to see you awake.” He scooted up a chair and dropped onto it. Karina had cuts and bruises on her face and a wide gauze patch taped to the side of her head.

  “Callie? How is she?” Karina asked.

  Dax frowned, his eyes glancing over at Decker. “Seems the people responsible for the bomb detonation are the same ones who slammed into the rental car. Unfortunately, they have taken Callie hostage.”

  Karina gasped, and her face drained of color. “Oh, no!” Tears sprang up in her eyes. “Decker, I’m so sorry.”

  Decker nodded. “How are you?”

  “Pretty sore, especially my ribs. I guess I broke a couple. Doctors say I’ll be fine given time to heal.”

  “Remember anything, Kat?” Decker asked.

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t remember anything. A dark car hurtling at us and everything went black.”

  Decker fought to hide his disappointment. He didn’t want Karina to worry. She had enough to contend with. “Did the doctors say when they might release you?”

  “They want to run a couple more tests to make sure everything is all right,” Karina said. “It’s taking much longer than expected because of the high volume of patients. However, they need the extra space so they may be prompted to release me earlier than normal for this kind of injury.”

  “Let me know when they decide,” Dax said. “I’ll see you safely aboard Shark Eater to recover.”

  “Thanks, Dax. I’m ready to get out of here.”

  Dax leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “Get better soon, huh? We all miss you.”

  “Likewise.” She smiled wanly. “And Decker. I pray you will find Callie.”

  ***

  Back at the station, Brock had connected a few dots.

  “Rafiq has made multiple calls to Syria, as you know. Homeland Security found he’s been in touch with a man named Ali Bukai—Syrian born rebel. He is kn
own to associate with Al-Qaida and joined ISIL a few years ago. They believe he’s the supplier, though you can bet he’s laying low since the bombing.”

  “Still no location on Rafiq?” Decker asked.

  Brock shook his head, repeating once again like a mantra, “We’ll find him.”

  “Is there a way to trace the money he’s received so far?” Decker continued, anxious for any kind of revelation in the matter.

  “The Counter-Terrorism Implementation Task Force is putting a freeze on Ali’s assets as we speak, and anyone else’s who may have had contact with him. They have worked around the clock trying to prevent Ali from transferring the funds into a foreign account before the freeze takes effect. One thing for sure,” Brock said. “If Rafiq’s finances dry up, he’ll be eager to get his hands on yours.”

  “Let’s hope the CTITF gets the job done promptly,” Decker said. “Gives me some leverage. With any luck, may even buy more time.”

  “If Rafiq becomes desperate, chances are likely he’ll make a crucial mistake. It’s the best chance we have at the moment.”

  Decker stiffened. Somehow. Someway. He had to find out where Rafiq might be holed up. And like any rat, he would eventually come out of his hole especially with the right bait. “Any relatives to speak of?”

  “A sister. The Feds are already on her.” Brock raked his fingers through his brow gray-flecked hair and sighed. He felt Decker’s impatience mounting. He only hoped Decker would not do something fool-hearty and jeopardize the operation.

  Chapter 13

  ⁂

  Jade II, Miami

  Ryn looked through the binoculars. The black sedan had been parked along the curb the entire day, as it had been the day before. No one had tried to come on board, but he had to wonder if they would eventually. Most assuredly, these were the same fellows who had dogged Decker before he skipped town. Why they were keeping Jade II’s crew under surveillance still remained a mystery.

  He lowered the glasses when he heard footsteps echoing against the wheelhouse’s steel ladder. When Ryn glanced up, he saw Captain Carson coming his direction. Dressed in his freshly starched uniform, he gave a two-fingered salute from his forehead.

  “What’s up?” Carson asked.

  “Still being watched.”

  Carson looked out over the docks to where the sedan had steered over to the curb and parked. “This is utter nonsense.”

  “I’d say!” Ryn raised the glasses again and leaned against the wooden railing. “I can’t figure out what they want. Why aren’t they questioning us if they’re looking for answers?”

  “Good question,” Carson replied. “I can’t help but think it has something to do with the strange island we happened onto. The only thing that makes sense. Shortly after docking and going to the NWAC to speak with the meteorologists is when the stakeout started.”

  “I was wondering…”

  Carson looked at Ryn suspiciously. “That look spells trouble.”

  Ryn smiled. A mischievous glint in his eyes. “Thought maybe Polly and I might slip out of here, circle back and surprise the two men hanging out.”

  “No. You’re going to stay put.”

  “Come on, Captain,” Ryn pleaded. “They owe us an explanation. What could they possibly do anyhow? It’s midday. Look at all the dock workers.”

  Carson pressed his lips together. “Don’t like it. But maybe you’re right. However, I don’t want any fisticuffs, you hear? I mean it Ryn.”

  “If it should happen, Captain, it won’t be us who starts it.” Ryn put up his palm, thinking to cover his bases. It was impossible to predict how it would all transpire. Hopefully, it would not end in a knock-down, drag-out fight. But if it did, they’d be prepared.

  “Ok. But I want you to keep your noses clean. In other words, I don’t want to come bail you out.”

  Ryn’s smile deepened. “You won’t regret this.”

  “I already do.” Taking the binoculars from Ryn’s hands, he raised the glasses to look out over the docks. Carson had to admit he’d become more than a little curious as to why they’d latched themselves like leeches to the Jade II crew. Any luck, Ryn and Polly might be able to shake some information out of the two officials. If not, they were back to square one.

  Carson’s cell phone chimed. He set the binoculars aside to answer. Relief filled him when he heard Decker’s voice on the other end. It had been a couple of days since he had last spoken to him and having heard about the explosion in New Orleans, Carson had been on edge.

  “Glad you called. What the devil’s going on?”

  A short pause followed on the other end and a sharp exhale of air. “It’s Callie,” Decker replied. “The terrorists who bombed the casino has grabbed her.”

  “Dear God!” Carson gasped. “Do you know if she’s all right?”

  “I spoke with her briefly and though she was being her usual stoic self, the undercurrent of fear was palpable. I feel like I’m going to explode, Carson.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Not unless you know where she is,” Decker said dryly. “Anything I need to know?”

  “We’re being watched even as we speak. Two men. Black sedan.”

  “I thought maybe they would have given up by now.”

  “Ryn and Polly are going to go see what they can find out.”

  Decker chuckled. “Let’s hope they don’t stir the hornet’s nest. I’ve got enough to contend with right now.”

  “I warned them not to engage, but you know the crew. If the agents start something first, they will want to do the clean-up.”

  “Yup. That’s our boys for you,” Decker replied. “Listen. I need to head out. If there’s any more trouble, keep me updated.”

  “Will do. And Decker, I’m praying that you find Callie.”

  “Me too, Carson. Me too.”

  When Carson finished up the call, Ryn and Polly came rushing out of the companionway. Each wore a light jacket, and though it wasn’t evident, Carson knew they would have their pistols tucked inside their shoulder holsters in case there was a scuffle.

  “No trouble!” Carson warned again. “I mean it. Do whatever it takes to make this a peaceful confrontation.”

  “You got it,” Polly said.

  “That’s what you always say, Polly.” Carson shook his head as he watched them dash across the deck to the gangway.

  Ryn glanced back once and waved at Carson. He was up for a bit of adventure. They had been docked for over a week. Except for a couple of card games, a few fist-to-cuffs on the docks, everything had been too monotonous for his liking.

  Their boots clunked soundly on the wooden docks leading to the main highway. They scrambled up some cement steps directly across the street from their viewers and kept their eyes adverted as if they were oblivious to the fact they were being watched. Facing each other they feigned conversation. Once they had distanced themselves, they headed across the street with intentions of circling back.

  Martin Ludwick and James Schell tried to hide by drawing newspapers in front of their faces. They’d kept vigil for more than thirty hours and this was the first time they had spotted any activity from the Jade II.

  Martin glanced in the rearview mirror, assuming the two would hop in a vehicle and head out. When they did, he’d stick like a bee to honey to them as instructed by the Director of Central Intelligence.

  Because Decker was using cash, they’d lost contact with the Haydens. In the meantime, they’d been assigned to watch the Jade II’s activities and report back. Unfortunately, there had not been any activity to speak of and they had yet to see the Haydens.

  Martin had his fingertips resting on the keys, ready for some action. After twelve cups of coffee, three cheeseburgers, fries, and two chocolate bars, his stomach felt nauseous. He needed to do something other than sitting like a deer in headlights, shoveling globs of fat down his throat. He burped loudly, popping two antacids into his mouth, James curling up his lip in disgust.

&
nbsp; “I may never recover from this,” Martin said. “Whoa! Unbelievable!”

  “What?”

  “They’re coming this way.”

  James twisted his head back. They were feet from their vehicle. Before Martin had the chance to react, the sedan’s doors were yanked open, and Martin and James both were looking down the barrel of a couple Smith & Wesson 9mm handguns. Neither of them moved.

  “Slowly. Step out of the car,” Ryn said, his finger locked on the trigger. His eyes blazed with intensity revealing he would not hesitate to use it if they made a sudden move.

  Martin raised his hands chest level and slowly, as instructed, slid his body to the side and got out of the car. James followed.

  “We want some answers,” Ryn said curtly.

  “Don’t have a clue what you mean,” said Martin.

  Ryn pushed the cold steel up under Martin’s chin. “Not the right answer. One more time. Why are you surveilling us?”

  Martin swallowed the lump in his throat. “Only following orders is all.”

  “Whose orders?”

  “CIA headquarters.”

  Ryn’s brows dipped into a frown. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. I only do as I’m told. We’ve been gathering data on the Haydens. Since we lost him off our radar, we were told to stay planted by the Jade II.”

  “Why are you gathering information on the Haydens?”

  “Can’t tell you why. I’m only…”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah…only following orders. Got it,” Ryn said brusquely. “I think maybe it’s time you slither back under the rock you crawled out from and head out of here. You can tell your boss we don’t know where the Haydens are and we don’t take kindly to being watched. So, unless you’re going to charge us with something, I suggest you find someone else to eyeball…like the terrorists who blew up a casino in New Orleans.”

  Without another word, Martin and James got back into the vehicle. The motor revved up as Martin sped away, leaving rubber tread marks and smoke to reflect his anger.

  Polly grinned. “Captain will be pleased. No bloodshed. No black eyes. You did good, Ryn.”

  “Why thank you, Polly. Not bad yourself.”