Bermuda Conspiracy

by K D McNiven

  As Decker slid from the truck seat he spied a white-haired man on deck. Long hair brushed his slightly-hunched shoulders and he sported a matching mustache and beard. By the lines in his face, Decker guessed him to be in his late seventies. He wore stained denim overalls and a dingy white T-shirt. Climbing down a rope ladder, he walked slowly over to where Camille had parked with a notable limp.

  “Decker, this is Cal Fanchon,” introduced Brodsky. “He’s been a friend of the family for many years. My dad and Cal have fished these rivers since they were young bucks.”

  “Glad to meet you,” Decker said, stretching out his hand to shake Cal’s vigorously.

  “City boy I see,” Cal chuckled, spitting a wad of black chewing tobacco near Decker’s foot.

  Decker shrugged. “Only by appearance, Cal,” Decker replied with a smile. “I grew up on a Texas farm and spent most of my time throwing my line into the San Antonio River.

  “Ever dived in clothes and all and grabbed hold of a four-foot catfish with your bare hands?”

  “Don’t believe I have,” chuckled Decker.

  “Now that’s fishin’.”

  Brodsky turned to Decker. “Looks like we’re at the end of the line.”

  “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Brodsky. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me—the risks you’ve taken.”

  “Only glad to help,” Brodsky replied. “I hope you get to the bottom of this mess. Whoever’s behind these murders are playing hardball. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to give us a call. I know Brock has your back.”

  “Appreciate it. And Camille, nice to meet you. You have an incredible brother. I owe him big time.”

  “You know it!” She smiled and winked at the same time.

  “Quit your flirting, Camille. Decker’s married.”

  “A rotten shame,” she said, hands on hips. “He’s a mighty fine specimen!”

  “You should feel ashamed,” Brodsky scolded her, “Now get your flirty-self back in the truck.”

  “Bye Cal. Nice to meet you, Decker, and if you ever find yourself single…”

  “Go!” Brodsky yelled, shaking his head by his sister’s audacity.

  With a quick nod, Brodsky turned and slowly walked back to the truck and as they headed down the dusty road, they took a small part of Decker with them.

  ***

  Cal motioned for Decker to follow him. As Decker climbed the rope ladder, he noted the wooden rungs were badly decaying, the hemp rope fraying. The boat had certainly seen better days, he thought. He hoped she still had the fortitude to battle the waves in the Gulf of Mexico. Cal looked confident. Decker did not.

  “We’ll wait for dark,” Cal said with a heavy drawl. “Don’t want anyone to spot you. Don’t need bullet holes in my lady, or myself.”

  Decker nodded. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me, Cal. I don’t want you to take any undue risks either. Tonight, it is!”

  A couple of steps down brought Decker into a small kitchen area with a couple stacked crates making up the table and two cushioned benches. A musty odor, mingled with the smell of damp wood assaulted his nostrils. Off in the corner was a liver colored Blood Hound curled up on an old worn blanket. His brown eyes surveyed Decker but he appeared nonplussed, ignoring Decker for the most part.

  “This here is Duke. Been with me for years.”

  “Nice looking dog.”

  “More than a dog,” Cal stressed. “Duke’s my partner. He goes fishin’ with me every day. Had him for fourteen years now—slowin’ up some. Like me.” Cal hobbled into the tiny kitchen and pulled out a frying pan. “How ‘bout some catfish? Caught um fresh this mornin’.”

  “I’d love some. Thanks.” Decker watched the old man as he worked his culinary magic. The aroma of fish permeated the small quarters. “Do you have a wife and children?” asked Decker.

  Cal gave a short grunt. “Had a wife thirty years ago. Ran off with some city boy.” He gave a side-glance over at Decker. “Ain’t ne’er married since. Me and Duke here get on fine by ourselves. You?”

  “Married to an amazing woman. We were never able to have children. We would have loved to have had a couple. However, you make the best with what you’re given and I wouldn’t change my life for anything. Callie completes my life.”

  Cal chuckled. “Like my Duke! What ya do for a livin’, city boy?”

  “Archaeologist.”

  He wrinkled his bushy white brows and a perplexed look crossed his weathered face. “Now what ya want to go diggin’ up old things for?”

  Decker laughed. “Old things tell stories.”

  Cal shrugged, flipping the fish over in the pan. The grease sizzled and popped. Off to the left side of the stove, a heavy black kettle had steam curling into the stale air. Fish done, Cal scooped the filets onto a cracked porcelain plate and reached for two bowls. He dipped out two helpings of brown beans and rice. Opening the oven, he snatched each of them a large piece of cornbread. The two of them settled onto the benches, creaking as their body weight pressed against them. The stacked crates served as their table. As Decker took his first bite he felt like he was eating at a five-star restaurant.

  “This food is delicious, Cal.”

  “Humph. Ain’t nothin’ special.”

  Though he denied it, Decker noticed a glimmer of satisfaction in the old man’s deep-set eyes. No doubt, he’d been cooking meals like this since he was a lad.

  When they finished up, Decker helped to clear the dishes, a bit surprised when Cal held out a fishing pole to him, a slanted smile on his lips. He held a battered can and poking his fingers inside, pulled out a couple wiggling worms.

  “For old times,” Cal said. “This ain’t the San Antonio River, but ya can’t beat the Mississippi River for fishin’.”

  Childhood memories flooded Decker’s mind about the times his dad and mom and he would make a day of it. His mom would pack a lunch, climb into their old battered Ford pickup and head to the river where they would spend most of the day dangling their lines in the muddy water. Usually, they would return home with a creel filled with fresh fish and his mother would cook them up the same evening. Being with Cal resurrected those memories. Memories Decker would always cherish.

  Decker tossed the line over the side of the boat and relaxed on an old wooden rocker beside Cal. He slid on his sunglasses to shield the glare off the water, pulled the rim of his straw cowboy hat a bit lower, propped his booted feet on the railing and simply let go. Decker and Cal didn’t speak—simply listened to the lapping water on Moonshine’s hull. They watched barges being towed up river and pelicans swooping down to do fishing of their own. It was peaceful. Refreshing after everything he’d gone through.

  The sun sank behind a bank of gray clouds and a gentle rain spattered across the deck. It was time. Cal flipped on the all-around bright lights to see them down river and untied the mooring rope. The boat slowly began to drift out over the brown waters of the Mississippi. The pitter-padding of droplets on the cabin acting like a healing salve for Decker, who had for a brief time felt tension binding up his shoulders.

  As Cal engaged the motor, a sense of excitement rushed through Decker. He desperately wanted to see Callie; wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her soft lips. He felt inept to see her through the ordeal she’d experienced, but the one thing he knew, she needed his support and he needed hers. He was thankful Dax and Karina was there as buttresses to hold her up until he returned.

  As the sky darkened and the sun slipped below the far horizon, Decker watched in delight the flickering lights around him from the fireflies. It never ceased to amaze him that they carried their own lanterns along with them, and from the muddied banks, he heard the steady buzz of crickets, a soothing melody to his soul. It had been such a long time since he’d taken the opportunity to simply listen to the world around him. Too many distractions…

  The jingle of Decker’s cell phone broke the tranquility of the moment. He was surprised to hear
Brock’s voice on the other end.

  “Been doing some research, Decker.”

  “Find anything?”

  “Some interesting tidbits. I discovered both Derrick Lasslo and Paul Cummings worked for Central Intelligence back in the seventies.”

  “Hmm. Interesting.”

  “They were both stationed at a naval base on Tucker Island called UREF, Underwater Research and Experimentation Facility, located in the Bahamas. Seems a lot of CIA operatives and military personnel have trained there over the years.

  I found out they dealt with electronic warfare, electromagnetic signal environments, and hyperbolic in-air tracking systems.”

  “I’ve heard tell the base, though I’ve never investigated its purpose. Never had a need to. We were maybe one hundred miles north of Tucker Island.”

  “I can’t tell you what any of this means,” Brock said. “However, it raised red flags when I found out both men who were murdered had been stationed on the island at the same time. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Nor do I, Detective. What’s more, it’s interesting they were delving into electromagnetic radiation.” Decker remained silent for some time as he chewed on the information Brock had given to him. He had to wonder what exactly they were training CIA operatives to do. Whatever activity they were involved with, the CIA desperately wanted to keep it under wraps. One thing for certain, even if nothing else surfaced, Decker’s life was in grave danger.

  “I have a friend who works in Special Ops,” Decker told Brock. “Names Dean McDermott. Because this runs deep into the veins of Central Intelligence, I believe I’m going to have to call in people more intimate with their dealings.”

  “You need to be careful, Decker,” warned Brock. “I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself involved in but you’re walking a razor-fine line.”

  “I’ll be as careful as I can, Detective. Thanks for your help. I know you’ve put your butt on the line for us. You can’t know how much I appreciate it.”

  “Stay safe, yeah?

  Chapter 23

  ⁂

  Gulf of Mexico

  As they made their way through the headwaters and into the Gulf of Mexico, Decker contacted Dax to determine the Shark Eater’s coordinates. He looked at his handheld GPS and saw they were getting close. The three-foot waves tossed the Moonshine like a feather across the whitecaps. The dipping and peaking made Decker’s stomach queasy. As many times as he’d been at sea, he would never fully get used to the up-and-down motion.

  “Turnin’ green?” chuckled Cal as he steered the boat further into the Gulf.

  “You could say that.”

  “That’s a city boy for ya.”

  Decker grinned, getting used to Cal’s hard-nosed replies. At this point, he knew it was just his way. In the distance, Decker caught sight of boat lights blinking as they dipped and rose. They were within a mile of Shark Eater. He hoped his getaway would not be tracked by the CIA. So far, they had managed to slip under their radar but Decker wasn’t sure how long they would be able to outmaneuver them. Advanced technology worked against Decker and his team. At this point, he knew he would have to bring more people into his arena. There was safety in numbers.

  Decker still awaited a call from his longtime friend, Dean McDermott, a Special Ops leader. Decker had no way of knowing if Dean happened to be on a top-secret mission or not. Still, he hoped he’d be available before too long and come alongside him. Dean had the skills and the artillery to combat enemy forces.

  Decker heard Cal make radio contact with Shark Eater. “This is Ol’ Blabbermouth calling Shark Eater,” Cal blurted. Using his call name, Cal got hold of Captain Manny.

  “Shark Eater back to Ol’ Blabbermouth. Prepare to board. Over.” Amusement hung in Manny’s voice as he answered Cal’s call.

  The crew scurried portside to tie off Moonshine and welcome Decker aboard. Cal tossed a rope over the side to Chase who was waiting for them, a wide smile on his face as he tethered the old fishing boat to hold her fast.

  Before climbing on board, Decker said, “Cal. Thank you for seeing me out here. I appreciate it.”

  Looking up, Cal saw Callie standing beside Chase waving her arms. “Well, city boy, looks like ya got some pretty little gal excited to have ya back. Think ya better get goin’.” He thrust his hand out and shook Decker firmly.

  Not wasting any time, Decker scrambled up the ladder and rushed into Callie’s arms. He held her in a crushing embrace, kissing her longingly. When he withdrew, he saw tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he said. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be with you.”

  “Not your fault,” she said. “But I’m so glad you’re back.”

  When Decker stepped away, he saw the whole team had come top deck to greet him. Even Captain Manny left his watch.

  “Hasn’t been the same without you,” Manny said.

  “Glad to be back,” Decker replied.

  Dax slapped his friend on his shoulder. With everything they had gone through, it felt good to have everyone safely on board again. “Welcome back, mate.”

  The crew went below to the mess hall so everyone could be filled in on what their next move would be. Manny had since set course for Miami. The sooner they docked, got equipped with the ROV, and headed out to open waters, the safer it would be for them. Or at least they hoped it would.

  Dax surrendered his sleeping quarters to Decker and Callie so they would have time alone. Time to heal. He knew they had a lot of catching up to do and Callie needed Decker’s undivided attention for a couple of days before they embarked on yet another risky adventure. Plunging headlong into the world of the CIA, who would have no qualms about offing anyone who might threaten their covert operations, was at the very least, reckless without some plan of action. Even suicidal. Dax would definitely make sure whoever signed up to go to the Bermuda Triangle knew the stakes were high.

  Decker held Callie in the crook of his arm. He stroked her hair, content in the moment. “It’s been unbearable being away from you, Callie. These past few days have been a nightmare for me.”

  “For me too,” she said. “I’m relieved you managed to ditch those agents.”

  “It would have been impossible except for the help of Detective Brock, his daughter, Brodsky, and Cal, of course. I owe them all so much.”

  “I shudder to think what might have happened had Brodsky not sneaked you out of the jailhouse. These CIA operatives, or whoever they are, are playing for keeps.”

  Decker clicked his tongue. “The two men murdered in cold blood can testify to that. I was wondering…” he fell silent for a time. “Are you up for this, Callie? You have gone through more suffering than anyone should ever have to. I…”

  “We need to get to the bottom of this, Decker,” she said. “Your life depends on it.”

  “Not exactly what I asked. Are you able to withstand more extreme conflict after what you’ve already gone through?”

  She gave it thought and understood his concern. “So long as you’re there to support me, Decker, I can stand up to it. Besides, what if someone else stumbles onto their secret? How many more people will have to die? Someone has to stand up and expose them.”

  He smiled. “You’re one amazing, lady. And you know you have my support. I would die for you, Callie Hayden. No doubt in my mind.”

  ***

  Shark Eater made her way into the Port of Miami where she dropped anchor. Dax would go ashore and purchase everything and arrange for the equipment to be brought on board. He would have limited time. The longer they stayed docked, the more risk involved.

  The ROV would be loaded on board within the hour, connected to the ship by cables which would enable them to lower the ROV beneath the waves. The underwater robot would be able to video the ocean floor. Equipped with robotic arms, it had the ability to grasp hold of items on the ocean floor and bring them to the surface. It may prove valuable. Linus, who had already confirmed h
e would be part of the team, would manipulate the controls of the ROV.

  The crew on board the Jade II would remain on the yacht and be their eyes and ears, as well as their on-land researchers. Any information they uncovered, they’d pass along to Decker, and as the Shark Eater crew gathered information, they would compile a dossier pointing a finger at the CIA and shelter it in a safe deposit box for insurance. They couldn’t afford to be sloppy in their intelligence gathering, considering the trail of dead bodies.

  The day had only begun and it was already sweltering. The crew’s T-shirts were soaked through by the time they finished securing the cables and readying the ROV. Outfitted with magnetometers and onboard sonar scanners the ROV had the ability to obtain data from multiple sensors. An expensive piece of equipment, but required because the depths they had to navigate were well beneath the safety limits for scuba diving.

  Decker and Callie made their way middeck where the crew worked steadfastly getting Shark Eater ready to put out to sea. An air of tension hovered on board. A sense of foreboding. None of them knew what awaited them and yet they all agreed they had to discover the truth. Innocent people were dying.

  “How’s it coming along?” asked Decker.

  “A bit of a bugger to wrestle, but we won the battle,” Ottomar replied in his German accent. A cocked grin showed on his unshaven face.

  “Great job!” Decker said.

  “Ja, we have the best team ever.”

  Karina had since gone ashore with Dax to collect scientific lab essentials. She would be responsible for all hazardous materials brought on board—their use and disposal. She also made sure things were fully stocked.

  Because of the heat, Callie dressed in a white tank top which tucked into olive-green khaki shorts, and white Converse sneakers. A wide floral stretch band held her hair back from her eyes and twisted into a knot at the back of her head. The slight breeze blowing across the deck made the heat at least tolerable. She’d glanced at the thermometer on her way out and it had already topped ninety degrees.

  They heard the roar of a motor and turned to see the zodiac approaching with Karina and Dax on board. They climbed the ladder, their arms loaded down with essentials for their venture. Decker and Callie rushed over to help relieve them of some of the boxes and bags. Following up from behind was Ryn, who’d elected to go along with Dax’s crew. Carson figured since he’d remain docked in Miami, there wasn’t a need for the both of them to remain on the Jade II, and Ryn was more than happy to have the opportunity to head back out to sea.