Harold and the Angel of Death

by Gary McPherson

  Joshua let a smile creep across his lips as he glanced over towards Harold.

  “Doc has an affinity for eighties television shows.”

  “Oh?” replied Garcia.

  “I love it when a plan comes together,” said Darla.

  Garcia slowly shook his head.

  Harold looked over at Darla. “I’m impressed. Doc forced me to watch reruns with him when I wanted to talk and The A-Team was on.”

  Darla gave a short laugh and then said, “I binged watched it on Netflix.” She turned to Garcia. “Seriously, you’ve never seen that show or the movie?”

  “Nope, I prefer romantic comedies,” Garcia said with a deadpan expression.

  “Seriously?” asked Harold with a stifled snicker.

  Garcia’s brow wrinkled. “Harold, what was that whole episode between us in front of Chuck? If you have a problem with me, discuss it before we get in front of Chuck. We need to stay tight, understand?”

  “Well, I do have trust issues when it comes to you, and that conversation didn’t help anything.”

  “If you can’t trust me, trust the woman beside you.”

  Harold turned to Darla, and she looked into his eyes. Her dark eyes danced and twinkled the longer he gazed into them. “Do you trust me?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  A different waiter appeared, took their empty glasses, and replaced them with another round of rum runners.

  “We didn’t order these,” said Garcia.

  “Courtesy of Chuck,” responded the waiter, and he walked off.

  Harold took a sip of his cool drink. Its cold, refreshing fruit juices soothed his warm pallet. He put down the glass and addressed Garcia again. “Just so we’re clear, we’re good for now. I’m not sure what your game is, but anytime I have a problem with it, I’ll let you know.”

  Garcia sat for a moment and moved his head ever so slightly in both directions. “My game,” responded Garcia with an edge in his quiet voice, “is to stop Chuck.”

  Harold and the others quietly sat and sipped their drinks, allowing the tension to cool down. Darla finally spoke up, “Did anyone else notice how pale Nigel is?”

  “Well, he is British,” responded Harold.

  “True,” answered Darla. “However, even the Brits get tanned or burned if they’re out in the sun. How is Nigel running around northern Africa and the Mediterranean without picking up some sun?”

  “So, what’s your point?” asked Garcia.

  Darla picked up her glass and appeared to stare into nothing. “Haidar was dark, even for a native North African. I just wonder who is Chuck’s real right-hand man. Nigel strikes me more as an office boy than a man you send to the field to deal with warlords.”

  Harold noticed a gray Kodiak zooming in towards the marina. The craft slowed at the very last second before entering the shipping lane. He thought about how much fun he could have with a craft like that. Garcia’s voice interrupted his mental getaway.

  “Everyone, our ride is on its way. Please, come with me.”

  The team left the bar and walked towards the parking lot. However, instead of heading into the parking lot, Garcia had them veer left to the other side of the marina. As they walked down the ramp, Harold noticed the Kodiak pulling up to an empty slot on the dock.

  Garcia stopped, turned, and spoke to the group. He pointed over his shoulder towards the Kodiak. “Everyone, this is Frank. He is going to be taking us out to Harold’s new office. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  Harold raised his eyebrow. He had assumed he would be working at his mansion on the island. Frank greeted everyone and helped them carefully board the Kodiak. With deft hands, Frank backed out the boat and headed out towards the Atlantic Ocean.

  Chapter 14

  Frank expertly navigated between the reef markers and out towards the deeper waters of the ocean where the Kodiak skipped along the relatively smooth waters of the Atlantic. He slowed the craft slightly as the waves increased. At times it seemed as if they were simply taking a joy ride across some residual wakes, but they slowly made their way further from Islamorada. A ship that had been a small speck on the horizon when they left Islamorada grew closer.

  Harold turned to Garcia. “Where is this office you want me to see? My butt is numb, and we’re all getting sunburned.”

  Garcia said, “We’re just making sure Chuck is bored watching us mess around in the water.”

  “I’m certainly tired of it,” Joshua said.

  Garcia looked over at Frank and spoke loudly above the droning of the engine and the splashing of the water. “Take us to the office.”

  The boat’s direction changed, and soon the ship in the distance began to grow. Their direction left little doubt the yacht was their destination. The ship’s lines came into view, and Harold found himself drawn towards her.

  She had the classic V-lines coming up from her bow. Harold loved the way the ship’s features became more modern towards her stern. A well-equipped array of radar, weather, and communication antennas sat midship above what he assumed was the bridge. Her white paint gleamed in the sunlight as Frank slowed the Kodiak.

  “As you can see, she has four decks and is 190 feet long,” Garcia said.

  Harold raised his hand and then repeatedly pushed down against the air. “Shhh.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Let me just enjoy this.”

  The boat went silent as Harold soaked in the view of the ship. The dark windows on the decks contrasted perfectly against the bright-white painted steel. He had seen many yachts growing up. While he had enjoyed the times his father had taken him out on a friend’s yacht, he had never understood the allure of these ships until now. This ship was more than a fashion statement. Harold could see himself exploring the world with her. The ship was not only large enough to accommodate a long voyage, but it had a casual classiness that felt like home.

  The Kodiak made its way aft to the diver’s deck. The name on the back of the yacht read Sweet Revenge.

  “What’s with the name?” asked Joshua.

  “That’s the name John registered. I’m sure he had laundry lists of reasons,” responded Garcia.

  Frank tied off the Kodiak, and the team disembarked. “Okay, if you all will follow me, I’ll give you a tour.”

  “Later,” said Harold. “Well, you can show everyone else. I want to walk around her by myself.”

  “I don’t know if that’s—”

  Joshua interrupted Garcia, “Let Harold enjoy some time alone with his new love, Agent Garcia. I think it’ll do him some good.”

  Garcia moved over, and Harold headed up the first set of short steps. He found himself standing among red wicker furniture and a beautiful teak decking. Obviously, it had been designed to relax in after spending some time swimming and playing in the water. He then followed the stairs up to the next deck. There he found two beautiful white couches framing modern black tables that sat between them. The deck opened to a dining area with a large round table. Just beyond the table was a small bar like he had at Salvation Key. This is perfect for breakfast. Rather than venturing inside, he climbed the spiral staircase to the next deck.

  The view took his breath away. The floor just below the antenna array was lined with deck chairs on one end. In its center was a large dining table that could easily seat twelve, and an L-shaped bar was nestled into a corner just beyond the dining area. The aft section of the deck rose up and around a large Jacuzzi framed by a generous sunning area. Harold sat down on the steps of the Jacuzzi and admired the view of the ocean that gently rolled the ship. From his vantage point, he could see an occasional fish navigating through the clear waters around the yacht.

  For the first time in a very long time, he felt happy. He heard footsteps and saw Joshua emerge from the staircase. Joshua rose up the steps with a sense of awe on his face as he looked around the yacht.

  He walked up to sit down on the step just below Harold and looked up at him. “She’s certainly
a beautiful ship.”

  “You said it, Doc. Where’s Darla?”

  “She’s below. I wanted us to share this moment together. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. I never knew you were so excited about boating.”

  “Let’s go have a seat at the table.”

  The two men walked over and sat at the large dining room table. Both of them ignored the other as they gawked at their surroundings.

  “What do you think, Doc? Should we sail the seven seas with her?”

  Joshua focused his gaze on Harold. “That does sound like an adventure. What has gotten into you? Up until now, I thought you wanted to get back to California as fast as possible.”

  Harold stared blankly towards the aft of the deck. “I don’t know, Doc. Maybe it’s because Darla is around and the four of us are together most of the time. I just don’t feel as homesick as I did. I mean, I still miss home, but this ship… I think if Dad built a yacht, this would have been it. This isn’t like John’s house. This ship is welcoming. I could feel just as comfortable in shorts, a T-shirt, and bare feet on board as I could a tux. She’s my kind of home.”

  “But you haven’t seen the rest of it.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I could just sit up here the rest of the day and soak in the ship, the ocean, all of it.”

  Joshua reached over and gave Harold’s hand a friendly tap. “Do what you think is best, but Garcia has a surprise for you below deck.”

  Harold leaned back against the chair. “Tell him I’ll be there in a little while, Doc.”

  “Okay.”

  Joshua got up and left. Harold lifted himself up and walked over to lay on the sundeck next to the Jacuzzi, letting the sun warm his growing sunburn as he felt the ship move beneath his body. He closed his eyes and took in the smell of the ocean far out from land. He had always loved the smell of the saltwater. It was in his blood.

  He lay there deeply breathing, but then the warmth that baked his skin seemed to grow faint. Opening one eye, he saw the silhouette of a person above him. The flowing hair, beautiful curves, and smell of coconut butter told him who it was. His lips curled into a knowing grin and he closed his eye.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, dear, but you know we’re on the clock.”

  Harold chuckled. “No, you and Garcia are on the clock. Until our next meeting, or whatever Garcia thinks we need to know, I can just lay here for as long as my skin can take the sun.”

  The smell of coconut grew closer and then he felt Darla’s body against his. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Don’t make me throw you off this deck, dear.”

  He opened both his eyes and found her beautiful dark eyes staring into his. He quickly lifted his lips and kissed her. She returned his affection and then rolled him on top of her. Before he could think about what was happening, he was surprised to find her long legs wrapped around his waist.

  “You know, dear…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Darla’s legs clamped down tightly on his sides, and he struggled to catch his breath.

  “What’s that, honey? I didn’t quite catch it.”

  Harold attempted to inhale. He flexed his core muscles, and her legs struggled to hold their lock on him until she squeezed them tighter. He nodded his head furiously and smacked the padded deck with his large hand.

  “Tapping out, are we?” she asked in a mocking tone.

  Harold gasped and gave one more loud slap against the padded sundeck.

  With a quick roll to the left, she deposited Harold next to her. He tried to catch his breath, rub his sore sides, and laugh all at the same time.

  Darla sat up. “Seriously, honey, what’s the deal with you and this ship?”

  He grunted as he moved his sore body into an upright position. “I don’t know. I was raised around nice things, but I was taught never to get attached to them. Maybe it’s because we are out away from land, and so I don’t have anything to compare it to. I hate John’s island because I compare it to home, but this ship… I’ve been on small schooner type yachts that cruised the coast but nothing like this. It’s all new to me.”

  “Just promise me one thing.”

  “Anything,” he replied.

  “You won’t leave me for this hunk of steel.”

  Harold reached over and gave Darla a long kiss. Their lips released, and she put her head on his chest.

  He wrapped his arm around her. “Nothing can replace you. After all, you’re the only woman I know that could take me in a fair fight.”

  Darla snuggled her head against his chest. “Size doesn’t matter, dear. It’s how you use your body.”

  “John might disagree with that.”

  Darla sat up and turned to him. “John told you size matters?”

  Harold began to laugh. When he calmed down, he said, “No, that isn’t what I meant.”

  Darla raised her eyebrow, and he felt himself melt inside at her mocking expression.

  “I was talking about the fight. What are you talking about?” asked Darla.

  His laughter stopped, but his lip remained curled up to the right side. “I can see I’m going to have to stay on my toes twenty-four seven when I’m around you.”

  Darla poked his chest. “Only when you keep me waiting. Now let’s get below. Garcia has something to show you.”

  Harold raised both arms in surrender. “I’m defeated in the brains and brawn department.”

  He stood, and Darla raised her hand up to him. He reached down and helped her to her feet with little effort. The two walked down the spiral staircase to the second deck. They passed through a set of glass sliding doors and continued on through the living and dining areas and into a narrow hallway next to the galley. As they neared the stern, Harold could see an opened doorway to a large bedroom. A king-size bed with a built-in headboard greeted them as they entered the room.

  Harold’s face maintained a permanent grin due to the beauty of the ship. The outer wall was covered with windows, providing a clear view of the ocean. Dark mahogany flooring accented the white walls and bed frame, and a flat-screen television sat across from the bed. Harold heard a noise, and a door opened next to the bed. Garcia and Joshua entered the room.

  “There you are,” said Garcia, “I thought we had lost you overboard. Good job finding him, Darla.”

  Darla gave Garcia a quiet nod, and then she looked towards Harold and winked at him.

  Garcia took off his sunglasses. “I wanted to look you in the eye for this part. I assume you’ve figured out this is your bedroom.”

  “I was hoping so,” responded Harold.

  Garcia motioned to Harold. “Come with me in here. This is your office, and I want to show you something.”

  Joshua stepped out of the way, and Garcia took Harold through the office door. Harold saw it immediately. His father’s desk. The blood-stained droplets still lay near the center edge where they had been since that fateful day. Garcia had even had Harold’s desk chair moved to the ship rather than simply use what was available locally.

  “We wanted you to feel at home.”

  Harold turned to find Joshua standing close behind him.

  “I should have known this was your doing, Doc,” said Harold.

  “No, this was Agent Garcia. He asked me how we could make you feel more at home, and I suggested your father’s desk.”

  “The chair was my idea,” interjected Garcia. “Besides, that size and style is expensive. It was cheaper to just bring it along for the ride.”

  “How did you know?” asked Harold.

  Joshua reached up and took Harold by the shoulders. “I’m not just your psychiatrist. I’m your friend.”

  “I know that, Doc.”

  “Well, it was the only piece of furniture you left intact that terrible day. You’ve never asked to replace it when you redecorated the office. I assumed it was important to you.”

  Harold stepped forward and wrapped Joshua inside his arms. His old friend grunted under the
sign of affection. “More than you can imagine, Doc.” After a final quick squeeze, Harold released Joshua. The doctor drew in a breath and straightened his clothes.

  “This is your sanctuary,” Garcia said. “We soundproofed the walls, and Darla installed encryption on your satellite connections for your computer and your phone. Even the CIA can’t crack it.”

  Harold turned to Garcia and crossed his arms. “Do you mean you’re spying on us too?”

  Garcia reached in and put his sunglasses back on. “Please.”

  Harold rolled his eyes. “I know, CIA.”

  “No, this boat belongs to the CIA.”

  Harold reached over, turned his chair around, and sat down in it. He looked over towards Garcia. “It’s yours for now.”

  “Glad you like it.” He then turned to Joshua. “Doctor, why don’t we finish our discussion outside and give these two some time together?”

  Joshua nodded, and the two men left.

  “You don’t really think this room is free of listening devices, do you?” whispered Darla.

  Harold glanced around the room. “I’m sure the good agent has thought of everything, but I do believe the phone is probably bug-free.”

  “Why?” asked Darla.

  “Deniability. I’m sure Garcia knows I’ll be talking with Tom in here. If anything goes wrong, he can claim he was unaware of the activity because I used the scrambled phone.”

  Darla leaned up against the wall and stared out the window. “You’re cute but ignorant in the ways of intelligence. That would leave Garcia vulnerable to people claiming he was incompetent for leaving you an unmonitored line of communication.”

  Harold turned and looked out through the window in the same direction she stared. Far in the distance, one of the frequent gusts of wind lifted a parasailer ten feet into the air.

  “So, you don’t think the phone is scrambled?” asked Harold.

  “Oh, it’s scrambled,” said Darla. “Garcia wouldn’t want you talking shop on an open line, but I can guarantee you that he has a descrambler hidden somewhere on board, and he’ll be recording your conversations. I wouldn’t worry though.”

  Harold turned back to Darla. She looked down into his eyes, and he forgot what they were talking about. Darla walked over and gave him a kiss on his forehead. She stepped back and said, “I’m sorry. Did I distract you?”