“Okay, we’re going. Get in the damn boat and take me out to the wreck. You better come up with a key or this will be your last boat ride.”
AJ stepped into the boat and started the engines; Hazel released the stern line before walking to the front and readying to release the bow line. She looked up at Junior, who was still standing there, staring at the boat.
“Are you getting aboard or not?” Hazel asked impatiently.
He gave her a venomous look and stepped onto the boat, unsteadily moving to the stern so he could see them both. Hazel released the bow line and gave the inflatable’s side a shove away from the dock before jumping on board herself.
AJ glanced back at Junior, standing behind her, and noticed his brand new docksiders. He’s dressed for a fancy boat but he sure doesn’t seem at home on a boat of any kind, she noted.
“You might want to hang on to something when we pull away,” she warned him and eased the throttles forward.
AJ looked back at the dock and wished Reg would pull in and see them leave; she knew he’d know something was wrong if they left without him. Especially with a stranger aboard. If he arrived and saw the boat gone, he’d start calling and trying to figure out what they were up to before he raised an alarm. Time they might not have.
“Where on the wreck is the key?” Junior barked above the noise of the engines, burbling just above idle.
Hazel looked at AJ and shrugged her shoulders as if to say ‘there’s no point lying’. “We think it’s in the engine room, hidden in a part of the engine, but we couldn’t get it open. We came back in for more tools, but you showed up before we got them. Not sure how we’ll do it now.”
Junior cussed under his breath in Spanish. “Well you’d better figure something out fast. No key, no trip home.”
“We’ll try the saw I have,” AJ quickly countered, worried Hazel was pissing off the man that happened to have the gun. Damn, she hated guns. This was her second experience being held at gunpoint and it wasn’t getting any more comfortable. They had to buy enough time for Reg to come after them. But then what? If Reg came steaming out, on his own in one of his boats, there’d just be three people held at gunpoint instead of two. Still, with Reg involved, she fancied their chances a lot more than she did right now. She kept the throttles barely above idle and noticed Junior was looking around the back of the boat.
“This as fast as this thing goes?” he asked pointedly.
She thought of lying and saying yes, but the two big outboards hung off the back were a bit of a giveaway, so she sided with not further aggravating the man with the gun.
“No, it goes faster but we have to clear all the boats and the shallow water before we can go faster.”
He looked at her and growled, raising the gun for the first time. “You’re going to give me trouble too, are you? Go faster.”
AJ opened the throttles more aggressively than she normally would and heard the man scrambling to hang on to something behind her. She hoped he’d fall out the stern but the gun barrel poking in her back told her he hadn’t. She felt his breath close to her ear and he hissed at her, “Your life is nothing to me, you understand, nothing. I’ve cut the face off prettier women than you.”
His words pierced AJ to her core. She’d had the misfortune to be around some bad people, but never had she felt such hate and evil emanating from another human. This man was soulless. Human nature was to have hope, that almost impenetrable feeling that things could still work out okay, even in the face of certain peril. AJ and Hazel’s peril came into sharp focus when Junior spoke those words, and for a moment, all hope was wrenched from AJ’s heart. Clearly the man intended on killing them both. He hadn’t hidden his identity in any way. As soon as he had the key, they were both superfluous.
He stayed close to her, with the gun prodding her all the way to the wreck site. The barrel pressed against her bare flesh, a constant reminder of how close she was to not existing in this world anymore.
“We’re close,” she said before gently easing the throttles back and slowing the boat. She glanced down again and could see his feet. His brand new dark blue topsiders with perfectly white laces. Hope filtered back into AJ. His shoes gave her hope again.
Chapter 61
July 1974
Gabriel made them bring the boat in until it beached and still swore and muttered as he clambered onto the swim step, his linen pants soaked to his thighs. He threw his shoes, undoubtedly very expensive shoes, onto the deck and finally pulled the gun from his waist band but kept it low and out of sight. Whitey had no intention of trying to run, he’d be leaving Ainsley to deal with Gabriel and under no circumstances could he do that. Whitey dragged the anchor from the sand, shook it clean in the water, and laid it on the swim step before shoving the SportCraft clear of the beach. After climbing aboard, he reached over and brought the anchor and line over the transom onto the deck, shoving it into a corner. He was trying to ignore Gabriel, who was still swearing under his breath.
Whitey had been taken completely by surprise when Gabriel told him they were all going to the wreck. He’d been sure the Peruvian wouldn’t set foot on the boat, but the man had remained calm and absolute in his demands. Until the water reached his knees that was, and since then he’d been extremely agitated. The last thing Whitey wanted was an agitated drug lord with a grudge and a loaded weapon. Ainsley had stayed silent and Whitey hoped to hell he remained that way. The situation was a trigger squeeze away from the worst crime the Cayman Islands had seen in decades.
Ainsley started the outboard and idled forward before selecting neutral so Whitey could climb to the bow and pull the other anchor, which was stowed in a hatch up front. Once Whitey was back in the cockpit, Ainsley opened up the throttle and guided the boat north along the coast. Whitey noted his friend was confident and proficient at the helm, a big change from their last trip; his brother must have given him some great lessons.
Gabriel had settled in the second seat once they’d started moving and had swung it to face Ainsley where he could keep an eye on both him and Whitey, who stood behind the captain’s chair. The gun remained in his hand but lay in his lap. Whitey could see Gabriel was still tense but seemed to have settled somewhat.
“It’ll take us about ten minutes to get to the wreck and then maybe fifteen for me to dive down and get the key,” Whitey said calmly, hoping to establish a better conversation.
Gabriel frowned at him. “What kind of wreck is this? Why did you choose this one?”
“It’s an old cargo ship about 40 metres long; hasn’t been down there long so it’s still intact and easier to get inside. But the currents are a bit wicked, so it doesn’t get many divers,” Whitey said, unsure why he cared but glad he was talking. Conversation meant opportunities; he was building some hope that he could talk his way out of this. Somehow Gabriel’s weakness on the water gave Whitey renewed confidence.
“Is it on the beach?” Gabriel asked. “It ran ashore?”
“No, no, it’s thirty metres down on the sea floor, it was scuttled by its crew and sank out over the reef,” Whitey replied and watched Gabriel cringe at the thought of the wreck. “A bit further out from the wreck the island drops off to hundreds of metres deep; they call it a wall.” Whitey poured a little salt on the wound, hoping fear might force a mistake from the man.
Gabriel gritted his teeth and glared at Whitey. “All I care about is getting that key. You don’t come back with the real key and your accomplice here gets a bullet in the kneecap.” Ainsley swung around, wide eyed, and looked at Gabriel. “That’s right,” Gabriel continued with a wicked grin. “One at a time.” He waved the gun at Ainsley’s legs. “The bullet blows your kneecap apart so your legs won’t work anymore – never walk again, incredibly painful I’m told.”
Ainsley’s mouth opened but no words came out. Whitey tried to diffuse the moment. “It won’t come to any of that, I’ll nip down, grab the key and be back before you know it.” He put a hand on Ainsley’s shoulder and h
is friend jumped in surprise at the touch. “It’s alright Ainsley, his beef’s with me, not you, but we’re gonna sort all this out, no one needs to be hurt, it’s just a series of misunderstandings.” Ainsley’s shoulder relaxed under his hand and he squeezed his friend, hoping he believed him. He looked at Gabriel, who stared back, eyes ice cold.
Gabriel waved the gun towards Whitey who managed not to flinch. “You’re a very lucky man, Whitey,” he grinned. “I told my father you’d lied to me about the safety deposit box and you know what he said?”
Whitey could make a guess, but he really didn’t want to hear the answer. “I don’t Gabby, but your old man doesn’t know me like you do, does he? He may jump to the wrong conclusion, and I’m hoping you’ll see things a bit more clearly.”
Gabriel ignored Whitey’s words. “He told me I should cut out your eyes and send them to your mother,” Gabriel said casually, as though he was discussing a grocery list. “But I had to tell him your mother was dead so I couldn’t do that.” He pointed the gun higher, at Whitey’s head. “So, he said, cut out one eye and make you watch me feed it to a street dog. Just the one, you get it? So, you have one left to see the dog eating your other eye.” He smirked at Whitey, who could feel Ainsley shaking beneath his hand, which still rested on his shoulder.
“If I don’t get you your key, and all your money, then by all means, turn me into Pedigree Chum, Gabby. But I promise you in a short time you’ll have them both and then we can sit down and talk about all this. I swear Gabby, I was never stealing from you.”
Ainsley eased the throttle back and Whitey quickly looked to the shoreline for his references.
“We’re here,” he said quietly, and Gabriel peered over the side of the boat at the vast ocean of water around them, and the shoreline clearly further away than he was comfortable with.
“Make this quick,” he muttered to Whitey.
Chapter 62
November 2019
“Where is the wreck?” Junior asked, peering tentatively over the side without getting too close to the edge of the boat.
“It’s thirty metres down there,” Hazel nodded to the water, “hanging over the drop-off which goes to three or four hundred metres.”
Junior stepped back to the middle of the boat and waved the gun at AJ. “You. You go down and get the key.” He waved at Hazel. “She stays here.”
AJ protested. “But it takes the two of us, one person can’t do it alone, we both need to dive.”
Junior shook his head. “Not this time. You go alone. Don’t come back and I shoot her. Come back without the key and I shoot her.”
AJ thought a moment before asking carefully. “And if I come back with the key, what stops you shooting us both?”
He looked at her smugly and then the shore. “I can do many things, but I can’t walk on water. I need you to drive me back.”
AJ considered pointing out the flaw in his plan, from the girls’ perspective, but was scared to provoke him and she knew the answer anyway. He’d shoot one of them out on the water and the other once they reached dry land. The one had a chance as there’d likely be people at the dock, probably Reg being one of them. She looked at the coastline; there’d certainly be someone around from West Bay dock all the way to George Town but if he made them take him farther north around the point, there were plenty more secluded places to land. Maybe that was his plan. Or maybe he was making it up as he went along. He seemed incredibly confident on the dock but a lot less so now they were on the water, like he hadn’t really thought this part through. It appeared he’d expected Hazel to have the key already. Her mind buzzed with scenarios until she realised Hazel was talking.
“We’ll have to hook the wreck, there’s no buoy out here to tie to,” she was explaining firmly to the Peruvian.
He looked at her suspiciously. “No. None of your games, she dives down, gets the key, then straight back up to the boat.”
“Sir, it doesn’t work like that,” AJ tried politely. “There’s a strong current out here, the boat and the diver will get taken in the current. See how we’re moving now with the drive disengaged? Look at the GPS, you can see.”
Junior looked nervously from the water to the electronics on the console which he clearly didn’t recognise or understand. AJ, seeing his hesitation, continued, “We drag a grapple hook through the water and snag the wreck, that way the boat is fixed to the wreck. I use the line to go down and come back up and the boat doesn’t drift into the open ocean.”
He looked at her, searching her face, seemingly deciding whether she was playing him or not.
“Okay, do it,” he finally muttered.
AJ put the outboards back in drive and, checking their position on the GPS, circled around to come across the wreck.
“Hazel, get the grapple hook and when I say ‘go’, drop the anchor in the water and play out the line until you get to the mark on the rope. It’s a piece of red twine tied to the line.”
AJ lined up the boat, gave Hazel the okay sign and watched her throw the hook in the water. She idled slowly forward, using the port side motor only to yaw the boat at about thirty degrees to fight the current as they went across the wreck’s path.
“Got it,” Hazel shouted back when the red twine reached her hands and then tied the anchor rope off to a bow cleat.
Going slowly, AJ dragged the heavy hook through the water without the rope wrapping under the boat and into the props. She watched the GPS, carefully running perpendicular to the line between the two dots that represented the wreck’s position. She was well clear of where they could have expected to hook either railing and she took a wide arc and slowly pulled around for a pass in the opposite direction.
“What are you doing now?” Junior barked at her with another prod of the gun barrel.
“We missed it, I’m taking another pass,” she answered as calmly as she could muster.
“Quit screwing around and wasting time,” he said impatiently. “Miss it this time and I don’t care how much everything drifts you’re going in and we’ll just have to pick you up...” He didn’t finish the sentence as the RIB boat jerked and AJ steered to starboard with the current to make sure the hook set and stayed. She shut the motors down and the boat spun around until it was down current, taut against the anchor rope.
AJ turned and looked at the man who stared blankly back at her, beads of sweat running down his face from the hot afternoon sun.
“Excuse me,” she said, to which he frowned in return. “If you want me to dive, I need to get my gear,” she elaborated, and he realised he was standing in front of the dive tanks. Clearly, he didn’t want to be between the two women where he couldn’t watch them both, but he reluctantly stepped alongside the helm and waved the gun at Hazel again. “Come back here, help her.”
Hazel walked to the stern and dropped the removable ladder over while AJ pulled her wetsuit up. She turned so Hazel could pull her zipper up and Hazel leaned in close as she did so. She whispered firmly, “I’m so sorry. Just go straight for shore and get away.”
“Shut up!” Junior yelled. “What did you just tell her, damn it?”
“She told me she was sorry and to be careful,” AJ lied quickly.
He didn’t look like he believed her, but she continued getting her gear on and avoided looking at him.
“I have to get in the water from the bow,” AJ said once she was ready.
He shook his head, “Get in back there, I saw her put a ladder over.”
“That’s to get back on the boat, getting in I need to back-roll next to the anchor line so I can grab it to go down,” AJ explained firmly.
“Fine. Both of you go to the front.” He waved for them to pass the helm on the opposite side to where he stood.
“Hazel, get the saw from the toolkit under the console please, and the big screwdriver,” AJ asked as she shuffled to the bow with her heavy BCD and tank on and her mask and fins in her hand. Hazel opened the toolbox and retrieved the two tools while Junior watche
d her like a hawk, the gun trained on her the whole time. He kept it pointed at her while she joined AJ at the bow. Hazel handed AJ the two tools which AJ tried to fit in the drop-down mesh pocket of her BCD, but they were too long. She folded the pocket back up and secured it, juggling the saw and screwdriver in her hand figuring out how best to hold them. Hazel leaned over and checked AJ’s Nitrox tank valve was on and again whispered to her, “Get away, while you can.”
She straightened back up and AJ looked her in the eyes. Eyes filled with anguish, pain and regret.
“He can’t swim,” AJ whispered back.
Hazel looked confused for a moment then realised what she’d said and nodded, “Okay.” She pretended to check AJ’s dive computer one last time. “Please, you can get away, this is my mess.”
AJ subtly shook her head and back-rolled over the side.
Chapter 63
July 1974
Whitey decided Ainsley was competent enough handling the boat now, he could dive from a live boat, unanchored, and be picked up afterwards in open water. He figured Gabriel didn’t have the patience to wait for them to grapple the wreck anyway, so they weren’t spoilt for choices. Ainsley was clearly nervous, but Whitey couldn’t tell if it was from the gun-toting drug lord and his threats, or concerns about piloting the boat over the wreck. Both, he decided, were legitimate reasons to be uneasy, to say the least. As Whitey slipped into his gear, he ran through the process one more time to try and calm his friend.
“I’ll guide you east of the wreck and that’s where I’ll go in; just remember everything in the water is heading west with the current. Hold the boat at idle where I go in and watch for circular rings where my bubbles reach the surface. My bubbles are carried by the current also, so I’ll be back of them, say thirty feet or so, okay?”
Ainsley nodded anxiously but didn’t question and chatter like he usually would. Gabriel fidgeted in the second chair and seemed to be on a roller-coaster between calming himself and letting his phobia take over. Whitey hurriedly finished getting ready while Ainsley piloted them to the entry point. Once there, Ainsley moved to the stern and Whitey stepped over the transom to the swim step.
Wreck of the Raptor Page 21