The terrorist Aziz would be dropped off right before The General met up with John G. From there Aziz would be picked up by gang members from East L.A. Sandoval would then ship that would deliver him to the Ivory Coast. From there he would disappear and make his way to South Africa where he had further resources. Once again, he would change his looks. He had plans to ship his drugs to South Africa. His drug empire would expand greatly as he would once again make millions from people’s misery. He had less than one week to take care of all the loose ends, just five days.
Chapter 41
“Bobby! Prepare to tack! Is the chute set and ready to go?” DJ calls across the deck.
“We’re set and ready, Boss,” I call back.
“On my mark!”
As we pull closer to the marker buoy, I can see that DJ is going to over-shoot the marker and take a wider turn before he heads for the finish line. We pass the buoy and keep going. He keeps driving the boat, picking up clean air so when he jibes he’ll have a great line and clean air for the downwind leg of the race.
“Now, Bobby, now! Pop the chute and drop the headsail!” he yells back at me.
Thomas and Dave drop and pull in the headsail as I raise the spinnaker and make sure it goes up without getting tangled. DJ makes the turn, now heading for the finish line.
“The spinnaker’s up and the headsail is down below, DJ.”
“Good job you guys. Now, Bobby, get back here and take over flying the spinnaker. I’ve set a lay line for the finish.”
DJ steers the boat as I call the sail action.
“Bring her up, DJ, about five degrees.”
DJ corrects our line and we are boat for boat with the leader, but have the advantage. From where we are right now, we can force the other boat to either tack or take a chance of getting forced up at the finish line. The other boat tacks away and is about to set another lay line for the finish, but DJ and I know the race is in the bag. We cross the line a good three plus minutes ahead of the other boat.
“Bobby, do the math. Did we beat these guys?”
Just because we cross the finish line first does not mean we won the race.
“We beat them by 4.5 seconds. We won!”
He lets out a whoop, “Great work, everybody. Bobby, break out the beer.”
Delaney walks up out of the salon with a six pack and hands them out to the crew. If I’m not mistaken, he’s just a touch green. Maybe it’s wishful thinking.
“That was very impressive, DJ.” he says, opening a beer for himself. “Your crew works like a well-oiled machine.”
“Yeah well, thanks,” says DJ waiving away the beer until he gets the boat back into dock. “We all raced for my dad when we were kids. With all that time spent together sailing we don’t really need to talk that much. We just do what needs to be done.”
Thomas, one of our racing crew along with Dave, has already started to clean up the deck.
“Dave, pull in the lines and after the boat is all packed up and clean, drinks and burgers are on me,” says DJ with a smile. The crew cheers and gets to work.
We dock the boat, fold the sails, wash her down and cover the mainsail.
Delany stays out of the way on the dock and watches us work. The rest of the crew heads up to the yacht club as DJ and I lock up the boat.
Finally Delany says to us, “Thanks for the ride, guys. I really enjoyed it. Could I meet up with both of you tomorrow? I need to talk to people about getting you clearances.”
DJ and I look at each other. We’re still not sure we want to do this. When do we get to go back to being regular guys who don’t get shot at anymore?
“Sure, I guess we can do that,” DJ says. I can tell he’s not thrilled. He looks over for my approval. I nod my agreement. “It’ll have to be after work, though; we’re just starting back up on the T-Street job that was shut down by Micky’s death. I’m way behind schedule and we’ll be working late.”
“How about we meet tomorrow night, let’s say seven-thirty, at the Wind and Sea restaurant? Dinner is on me,” Delany replies.
“Sure, that works for us,” says DJ. “See you then.”
Delaney walks toward the parking lot as DJ and I head toward the bar. DJ stops, opens his wallet and hands me his credit card. “Take care of the crew, would you? I need to call Maria and the kids. I miss them.”
“Are you going to join us later?” I ask, taking the card from him before he changes his mind.
“No, I don’t think so. I told Maria they could come home next week so, it’ll take me that long to get the house back in order. Plus, I have to get ready for work this week. I want you back at T-Street Monday morning at eight a.m., okay?”
“You got it, Boss. I’ll stay on the boat tonight and set the crew up on the job Monday morning.”
“Thanks. The doors and windows are being delivered Monday; let’s get them laid out when they get there so we can start installing them on Tuesday,” he pats me on the shoulder. “Nice spinnaker set on that last leg of the race today. It felt so great to be back out on the water, racing. When this is all over I’ve decided we’re going to race the boat a lot more. Talk to the crew and see if they’re up for it. Tell them that lunch and beer will be on me after each race.”
I don’t have to think about it, “I’m in. I’ll bet you that the other guys are, too.”
“Thanks, Bobby. See you Monday morning at work.”
I give him a wave as he heads toward his truck and turn to go into the Dana Point Yacht Club. I can hear the crew as soon as I walk in the front door. Thomas has always been loud – it comes from competing with his five brothers, Tim, Tony, Terry, Ted and Trevor – and he gets even louder with beer and the excitement of winning a race.
“Hey, Bobby,” he calls to me. “Where’s DJ?”
“He wanted to call his wife and kids, and then get set up to start work Monday. All is not lost, though,” I wave the card. “He gave me his Yacht Club credit card, so he’s springing for dinner and drinks.”
Thomas and Dave raise their beers, “To DJ!” They shout and order another round.
We recreate the race over burgers and a couple more beers, and everyone is headed home long before dark. A sailboat race is hard work and we’re all pretty tired. I walk back to the boat and find Murph and Alexis sitting in the cockpit, drinking martinis. Well isn’t this cozy?
“Hey, where were you earlier? I ask as I climb onto the boat. “We had a killer race and could have used a couple more hands.”
“I haven’t sailed in years,” says Alexis. “I used to be pretty good. Let me know next time you take the boat out.”
“Sure thing.” I bet she knows her way around a jib. “It seems odd to see the two of you casually sharing a pitcher of martinis.”
Murph reaches for another glass but I shake my head. He gets right to the point. “We’ve come to the conclusion that the leak is deep in my department,” he says.
“We don’t know who it is, or how high up the leak goes,” continues Alexis. “And, we don’t know who we can trust. Sandoval is always two steps ahead of us. We’re sure he’s still hiding somewhere in Orange County.”
“Do you have any guesses as to who the leak might be?” I ask. Shit. Maybe it’s too soon for DJ to have his family come back.
“No,” Murph replies. “Alexis and I have been talking about it and we think it’s safe to keep Captain Sprague and Special Agent Delany in the loop, but no one else. Our unit is small, and Delany only answers to one person.”
“We can’t rule out that the leak might be coming from there,” Alexis says.
Murph says, “We can’t rule out the rest of the Sheriff’s department either.” He looks down at his watch, “Well, it’s been real folks, but I’d better get myself home. My wife will have my head on a platter if I miss another family dinner.”
He gets up and says, “Crap. I came here with Alexis. Hey, Bobby, let me borrow your van. You can have Alexis drop you off at my house later on to pick it up.”
“Just leave the keys under the driver’s side mat. Have a good night Murph.”
“Goodnight, I’ll catch you two later,” Murph says as he jumps off the side of the boat onto the dock.
Well. Here I am alone with the lovely Alexis as the sun begins to set. “Can I pour you another martini?” I ask her.
“It’s so peaceful here. Yes, and thank you, Bobby,” she replies. I grab a glass for myself and fill that, too. I’ve worked with a hangover before and I can do it again.
We talk until late into the evening and when I’m pretty sure neither of us is going to drive anywhere she says, “I’d like to spend the night here. On the boat. With you.”
It’s a good thing it’s dark because I wouldn’t want her to see my jaw hit the deck. She leans toward me and kisses me, gently at first and then with more passion than I ever thought I’d feel again.
◆◆◆
I awake when I feel a shift in the way the boat sits in the water. Quietly, I reach over and touch Alexis on the shoulder. She opens her eyes with a smile and I put my finger to my lips.
“There’s someone on the deck, near the front hatch” I whisper. “Have you got your gun?”
She nods, leans over toward her purse and hands me her gun. We quietly pull on some clothes and move toward the front hatch. The movement of the boat indicates that whoever is out there was moving aft, toward the cockpit and the opening of the salon. I ease the hatch open, glad that I used WD40 on it last week, and slip out one side, as Alexis slips out the other. Barefoot, I work my way towards the shape, dropping down into the cockpit. I slide the safety off, move to the top of the cockpit and shout, “Freeze! Drop your weapon or I’ll shoot.”
“Bobby, don’t shoot! It’s John. I’m unarmed.”
Alexis, looking angry, shouts, “Are you crazy? What were you thinking, sneaking around like that?”
“Bobby, will you please put that thing away? You’re making me nervous. I tried to call both of you but your cell phones went straight to voicemail, so I decided to come down here. I figured I’d find Bobby here, but not the two of you, together.” John G. gives Alexis a knowing look, but it has no effect on her. “Can we go down below, please, you never know whose watching. I need to talk to you both about what I’ve found out in the last few hours.”
This is the first time I have ever seen him not one hundred percent in control, so I nod and we head down into the cabin, and I make us some coffee. Finally we’re all seated, somewhat uncomfortably, and John G. looks at Alexis.
“You are very, very good at your job, Alexis,” he begins. “It was extremely clever of Special Agent Delaney to help guide you into my home and into my life. If this whole situation had happened differently I would never have suspected you of being a government agent.”
I look over at Alexis and her expression hasn’t changed at all. I wonder if I should have held on to the gun rather than let her put it back in her purse.
“So Delany was keeping tabs on me through you and, at the same time, he was building a criminal case against me,” John G. continues. “You were there to confirm I was telling him the truth and that the information I had provided was solid. I’ve been undercover for over twelve years, so I’ve learned a few things. I think Delaney might be the one who has sold us out to The General. I think Delaney is the leak you’ve been looking for.”
I can tell Alexis is desperately trying to process what she’s just heard. We hear a sound like a tin can being thrown on the deck. John G. stands up and walks to the stairs that lead to the cockpit.
“Grenade!” he yells as he turns and throws himself toward me and Alexis.
The explosion is loud, followed by a bright light – a flash bang grenade – meant to disorient, not kill. The flash was bright, blinding and disabling. And the last thing I remember.
Chapter 42
I start to wake up and see cops and paramedics standing around talking in whispers. One of them notices I’m awake and comes over to me.
“Can you hear me, sir? Sir? Can you hear me?” I can see his lips moving but I don’t know why he’s whispering.
I look up to see John G., with his head resting in his hands, and Alexis sitting across from me.
“I can hear you, but barely,” I tell the paramedic. My ears are ringing. It sounds like church bells. I try and sit up, I barely make it, but I do.
“That’s normal,” he says, a little louder this time, “considering what just happened to you.”
I see Murphy walking towards the boat, on his cell phone and looking pissed off. Great, just what I need. I’d been having such a nice evening with Alexis.
“What the hell happened here, Bobby?” he asks when he gets to me.
What is it with this guy? Why does he never ask me if I’m okay before he starts the third degree? I stand up, wobbly at first, and the paramedic steadies me.
“Give me a few minutes, Murph? I need to clear my head.”
I walk up and look into the cockpit to check out the damage. I can see burn marks on the deck and down below, and some damage to the storage lockers. I don’t see anything that would make the boat unsafe.
“Are you alright, Bobby?” John G. asks as he comes up to the top of the stairs. Finally, there’s somebody who might give a shit about me.
“Yeah, John, I think so. Thanks for what you did down there, saving our lives,” I say. My hearing is slowly returning to normal.
“If that had been a real grenade we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now,” he replies.
Alexis steps up onto the deck then down into the cockpit, and hugs John G. “Thank you, John.
He nods and she walks over to sit next to me.
“This is starting to really piss me off,” she says. “The General is stepping up his assault on us, and we all need to be ready for any attack. He won’t stop until all of us are dead. I’m sure of that now.”
Murphy climbs up on to the deck, “I need to get statements from all of you,” he says. “Let’s get off the boat and let the crime scene techs do their job.”
We all rise stiffly and make our way off the boat and over to the Coffee Importers café where we find a table away from everyone else. Murphy goes in to order coffee for all of us, before he comes back to take our statements. An hour later, and another round of coffee, Murphy has all the information he needs and stands up to leave, but not before delivering a stern lecture about not getting killed. Like we wanted to have our eardrums blown out? The three of us look over to see the crime scene tape blowing around on the boat.
“I guess I’d better bring DJ up to speed,” I say, reaching for my phone. The call was not a fun one to make and I have to hold the phone away from my ear as he yells at me. Obviously my hearing has returned. Finally I say, “Why don’t you get your ass over to Salt Creek? I hear that the waves are still good and I feel like surfing.” I pause, and he finally lowers his voice a few decibels.
I take a deep breath, “Listen, all the whining in the world is not going to get us on the boat any sooner. My van is still at Murph’s house. Grab a couple of boards and I’ll get Alexis to drop me off at Salt Creek; then we can get all this out of our systems. It’s early. We’ll start the job tomorrow. One more day won’t matter.”
He finally sees the sense in what I’m saying and agrees to meet us at Salt Creek once he calls the subcontractors and explains that the job is shut down till Tuesday.
When Alexis and I arrive in the Salt Creek parking lot she says, “I need to make some calls. I’ll get back to you later, Bobby”
I get out of the car and before I can lean in to kiss her, she drives away. As I’m thinking about what happened last night, DJ pulls into the parking lot. We don’t talk much as I grab my board and we walk down the trail to the beach.
I
t’s a great wave. A point break that’s mostly a left, Salt Creek Beach, when the surf is big, is as good a wave as you would ever hope to surf. DJ and I look down at the point and see a large set roll through and watch a gal take off from behind the peak, make a big sweeping bottom turn and pull up into clean barrel, get covered and pop out of the tube at the end, blonde ponytail flying.
I look at DJ and say, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
After a couple of hours in the water I take off on a set wave, make an easy bottom turn and pull up tight into a jaw-dropping barrel. After about five seconds, I come blowing out and head in to the beach.
I turn around and watch as DJ takes off. Suddenly, it looks like his board just stops and he’s pitched face first into the trough as the wave crashes down on top of him.
“What the hell?” I mumble to myself, watching and waiting for DJ to pop up in the white water. I start to run toward the water as another set of waves starts to come through and I finally see DJ pop up and climb onto his board. He turns around, paddles into the wave at a sideways angle, drops down the face of the wave and does a slight stall maneuver then he pulls up into a massive tube. He’s covered up for what seems like forever and comes blowing out of the wave, standing so casually on his board, that he looks like he’s out for a stroll. He makes it look so easy when he’s having a good day. He rides standing up almost to the beach, before he jumps off and calls to me.
“Did you see that asshole grab my leash so I’d eat shit on that wave?” he yells. “What a jerkoff. I could have really been hurt. He’s lucky I caught that next wave or I’d have gone after him out there.”
Danger Point Page 21