Gold in the Keys

by Matthew Rief

  We ran to the valet in the front of the restaurant, and I handed him my ticket, urging him to fetch my truck as quickly as possible. A moment later, my Tacoma pulled around the corner. The valet hopped out and Sam and I jumped in.

  “Where?”

  “Club Indigo.”

  I peeled out of the driveway, burning rubber as I floored it onto the main road.

  “I need you to calm down, okay?” I said, looking deep into Sam’s eyes. She was breathing frantically and urging me to drive faster. “I need you to tell me who that was on the phone and what they said. We’ll be at the club in a few minutes, and I need to know as much as I can before we get there.”

  She took in a deep breath, then let it out. “It’s Claire. Tony called and said she’s dancing at the club and there are a few guys that won’t leave her alone. He says she’s drunk and they keep touching her and trying to take her home. He told me one of the men has a gun lodged in the back of his pants.”

  I thought it over for a moment as I weaved in and out of pedestrians crossing the busy road. Key West during the busy tourist months is incredibly chaotic, but in the evening on weekends, it’s more like a zoo if the walls all disappeared.

  “That’s all he said?”

  Sam nodded. “Please, Logan. We have to help her. She’s in my care. I… I told her parents that I’d…”

  “She’s gonna be fine,” I said sternly. A moment later, we arrived at a large building with a blue neon sign that said Club Indigo. All the parking spots out front were taken, so I turned down a small street that went around to the back of the building. I pulled up alongside the back entrance and, putting the Tacoma in park, I shut off the engine and we hopped out. There was a large group of people that all stared at us as we rushed to the back door. Sam, being well dressed, beautiful, and a woman, had no trouble getting past the big black guy who stood with his arms crossed in front of the door. But when I tried to walk in behind her, he held up his massive hand and pressed it against my chest.

  “The club’s full,” he said in a strong Jamaican accent.

  He tried to say something else, but before he could, I’d already grabbed his wrist and twisted his right arm behind his back. He cursed as I pushed him hard against the wall and told him I was going inside.

  “I’m calling five-oh!” the man said angrily.

  “Good.”

  Before a few of his buddies reached me, I pushed him to the ground and disappeared into the club. Sam was nowhere in sight as I navigated through the thick crowd of people, keeping my head on a swivel. The club was dark and there were lines of tables and a few bars surrounding a large dance floor in the middle that looked like a mosh pit at a concert. Blue strobe lights flickered through the darkness and fog machines made it even more difficult to see anything. There was a DJ in the corner playing music that shook the entire building. Unable to see anything, I ran up a set of stairs and looked down at the dance floor from above. After scanning the crowd for a moment, I saw Sam just below me and watched as she forced her way through the dancing people towards the center of the floor. Tony was just behind her and I realized they were moving towards a group of five or so rough-looking dudes in the middle. Looking closely, I saw a blond-haired woman in the middle of the guys dancing and recognized that it was Claire. She looked wasted, and I imagined the only reason she was still on her feet was because the guys she was dancing with were holding her up.

  When they reached the middle, Sam and Tony each said something to the guys, who looked back at them angrily. In an instant, one of the guys pushed Tony in the chest, and when he regained his balance and moved back towards them, a guy wearing big sunglasses and a glittery cutoff shirt punched Tony hard in the side of his face, sending him to the floor. At the same time, a big Hispanic guy grabbed Sam forcefully by her arm, pulled her into the middle of the group and started grinding on her as she tried to break free of his grasp. Before I consciously knew what my body was doing, I was already rushing for the stairs, then down towards the dance floor. I forced my way through the dancing people, and when I reached the group of guys, the DJ was playing a badass remix of “Tequila” that I’d never heard before.

  The first guy I approached was the big Hispanic guy who’d grabbed Sam. Fighting five guys at once is never easy, especially if the guys know how to fight. So the first thing I had to do was even the odds a little. I grabbed him by the arm, and when he swung around to see what was happening, I slammed my right elbow into his head. He collapsed to the floor like a sack of potatoes, unconscious. Two of the other guys saw what was happening and came at me. The first swung his fist at my head, and I easily dodged the blow and landed a hard roundhouse kick to his side. I heard a bone crack as he fell to the floor in pain. The second guy, the one wearing a glittery cutoff shirt and sunglasses, grabbed me from behind and tried to strangle me. I stood tall, then curled forward, hurling him over the top of me and slamming him to the floor.

  The center of the dance floor had opened up a little as the intoxicated tourists realized in a daze what was happening around them. A ripped black guy wearing slacks and no shirt at all came at me with a switchblade. I quickly avoided his attempt to slash me with the shiny edge, and when he stabbed it towards my chest, I slid to the side, grabbed his arm that was holding the blade and slammed his elbow down into my knee. Hyperextending, his elbow cracked and he yelled out in pain as his knife fell and rattled on the floor.

  Looking up, I saw a big, bald white guy covered in tattoos holding on to Claire. He was moving towards the back of the club and shoved Claire aside as I approached. He reached for something in his pants, which I soon identified as a handgun. Before he could level the barrel at me, I kicked it out of his hands and it tumbled across the room, stopping against the far wall. He grabbed a metal chair and lifted it high above his head, slamming it towards me. I threw my shoulder into his unguarded chest and tackled him to the floor. He was bigger than I was, so I quickly shifted into a leg hold and snapped his leg without hesitation. He yelled out in pain as I jumped to my feet and ran towards Claire, Sam, and Tony, who were watching me as they stumbled towards the back of the club. We headed for the back door, but before we reached it, a guy jumped at me with a sawed-off shotgun in his hands. He was much smaller than the other guys, so before he could fire, I grabbed him, lifted him high into the air and threw him onto a metal table that collapsed under his weight.

  The four of us stormed out the back door of the club and moved quickly to my truck, which was still parked on the side of the road. There were a few groups of people smoking, and the big guy at the door glared at me as we walked by, but other than that the back of the club was empty. I unlocked the truck and we all climbed in. I was in the driver seat with Tony sitting shotgun and Claire and Sam in the back.

  Just as I stuck the key into the ignition and twisted it, starting the engine, a hand appeared through my door’s window, holding a .44 Magnum against my chest. I glanced out and saw that it was the bald white guy. His face was contorted as he tried to hide the pain that I knew was burning from his leg, which I’d recently broken in two. Now that we were out of the dark club and I was able to see the man under the light of the alleyway, I instantly noticed a tattoo of two black snakes slithering around his left wrist.

  “Get your ass out of the truck,” he growled, trying his best to hide the excruciating pain he was in.

  I contemplated stealing his gun right out of his hand while sitting there but didn’t want to risk a stray bullet accidentally hitting one of the others. Doing as he said, I opened the door slowly and stepped out. He shifted past me and looked at the three still in the truck.

  “Any of you move so much as a fucking muscle and I’ll blow you all to pieces.”

  He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Just as the screen lit up I slapped his gun to the side forcefully, then slammed my elbow into the side of his head. Grabbing his wrists, I slammed his hands against a lamppost, and his Magnum fell onto the blacktop. He
swung at me, but with one of his legs broken, I was able to block it easily and counter with two quick punches of my own right to the center of his face. His nose cracked and blood flowed out across his face. A final kick sent him to the ground, causing him to rock slowly back and forth, unable to get back up. I grabbed his pistol, released the magazine and threw it into a nearby dumpster, then hopped back into the driver’s seat. As I drove us out from the alley and onto the main street, I heard sirens approaching the club from all directions. A few police cars were already parked outside the main entrance, their red and blue lights flashing, illuminating the darkened streets.

  CHAPTER

  FOURTEEN

  I drove the truck down Duval Street, trying my best to fit in with the other cars on the road, not wanting to draw any attention to us. Claire was crying and delirious in the backseat, and Sam held her close, consoling her as best as she could after the ordeal. I had handed Tony a first aid kit and he bandaged up his wounds as well as Sam’s. After just a few minutes of driving through the crowded Duval Street, I turned onto Olivia Street, which had far fewer people walking the sidewalks and crosswalks.

  After a few blocks, I pulled up to the curb beside the cemetery, stopped the truck and killed the lights. Holding my Sig in my hand, I glanced out the windshield and into the mirrors. When I was confident that no one was following us, I pulled back onto the road, and a few minutes later I reached the small bed and breakfast they were staying at. I parked the truck up against an old railroad tie right behind their unit, opened the door and stepped out. I helped Sam carry Claire, who’d passed out on the drive over, around the stone walkway to their patio, which was right over the sand, overlooking the ocean. Tony opened the sliding glass door and we all stepped inside.

  I did a quick scan of the room, making sure that we were alone, then helped carry Claire to her bedroom. After she was in her bed, I walked back out into the living room.

  “Sure was a bad idea going out to a club like that alone,” I said to Tony as he grabbed a small container of aspirin and swallowed a few of the white pills.

  “I’m sorry, Logan. She’d been asking me to go see the nightlife with her for days.” He held his hand up to his head and closed his eyes. There was a massive bruise on his forehead from where the thug had hit him.

  “You might have a concussion. You should get it looked at some time.”

  He tried to walk across the room but lost his balance and almost stumbled to the floor.

  “Here,” I said, holding out my hand. “You should rest.” I helped him into his room, then walked back to the kitchen, filled a glass of water and sat on the sofa. Looking at my hands for the first time since the fight at the club, I saw that my knuckles were bleeding. Over the years I’d been in many fistfights, so I knew that bloody knuckles were unavoidable. At least those guys back at the club had made out a hell of a lot worse than I did.

  After chugging the glass of water, I headed out the door, walked back to my truck and unlocked the silver toolbox in the bed. The hinges creaked softly as I opened it up. I reached inside and pulled out an MP5 submachine gun along with an extra magazine and a night vision monocular. Locking it back up, I hopped into the driver’s seat, started the truck and pulled it around the front of the rental unit. I was pretty sure I wasn’t allowed to park there, but it would be more out of sight from the main road than in the actual parking spot. I killed the engine, hopped out of the truck, then locked her up and headed back inside, carrying the submachine gun and night vision monocular. When I opened the door, Sam was standing in the kitchen next to the counter.

  “I thought you’d left.”

  “No. Just had to move the truck. I’m staying here tonight to make sure nothing happens to the three of you.” I moved over to the table and set the gun and the night vision monocular on top of it. “In the morning I’m driving you, Claire, and Tony out of the Keys. We’ll take US-1 up to Homestead, then the three of you will continue northwest back to your home.”

  Sam approached me slowly and wrapped her arms around my chest. I pulled her in close, holding her tight for a few minutes. Her heart rate was still high, and I could tell she was having a hard time coping with what had happened.

  I kissed her cheek softly. “It’s going to be okay, Sam. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

  She paused for a moment, then loosened her grip on me enough to look up into my eyes. “But what about you? What are you going to do?”

  “I’m gonna come back here and I’m gonna track these guys down. They won’t get a doubloon of that treasure so long as I’m alive.”

  “But they’re dangerous men, Logan. What if something happens to you?”

  I wanted to tell her that I’d been in situations like this many times over the past ten years but figured it wouldn’t make her feel any better about it. “I’ll be careful, alright? Besides, I’ve got a friend flying in tomorrow morning. He was in the SEALs with me. Plus I also have Jack. There’s no trouble the three of us can’t handle.”

  She thought it over for a moment, and if my words made her feel any better about the situation, she didn’t show it. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the table beside us.

  “It’s a night vision monocular. Look you should really try and get some rest. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

  She frowned. “You’re not coming to bed?”

  “I’ll be in later. I’m gonna have a look around the property just to make sure we’re safe tonight. Just do me a favor and make sure all of the lights are out once you’re in bed. We need to be on the road before sunrise in the morning. We’ll leave at zero six hundred.”

  She nodded, then, after kissing me passionately on the lips, turned and walked into her bedroom. When the door shut behind her, I turned off all the lights in both the living room and kitchen and switched off the patio light as well. I gave my eyes a minute to adjust to the darkness, then grabbed the night vision monocular and my Sig. Looking at my watch, I saw that it was just after midnight.

  I stepped out the door and shut it quietly behind me. The grounds were exceptionally quiet compared to the rip-roaring party that was downtown. In fact, there were no sounds at all aside from the ocean waves and the strong breeze swaying a few palm branches and a wind chime on the patio. I stepped down onto the sand and had a look around. After about half an hour, I saw that no one had followed us and concluded that it would be almost impossible for someone passing by on the main road to see my truck. I headed back inside, locked the door behind me and crawled into bed beside Sam. I kept my Sig and the monocular on the nightstand beside me and set the alarm on my cell phone for five. Rolling over, I slid closer to Sam, and she curled in close, placing one of her arms around my chest.

  At zero five hundred I woke up to my alarm and rolled out of bed, a little groggy from the night before. Sam was still asleep, so I grabbed a quick shower and changed into a spare set of shorts, a tee shirt and tennis shoes I kept in the cab of my truck. Before waking the others, I sent off a quick text to both Jack and Scott, letting them know what I was doing and informing them that Black Venom had infested Key West. By zero five forty-five, everyone was awake, packed and ready to head out. We would have to take both vehicles since I would need a way to get back to Key West after reaching Homestead. Tony and Claire took the Pathfinder, and Sam and I rode in my Tacoma.

  They took the lead in the Pathfinder as we rolled out of the bed and breakfast parking lot onto the main road. I told Tony, who was driving the Pathfinder, that when we reached US-1, I wanted us to keep about five hundred feet of distance between us so I could cover them in the event something went wrong. We drove that way out of Key West, past the Key West Golf Club on Stock Island, then past the Naval Air Station on Boca Chica Key. The drive was mostly silent, and I was sure Sam was still going over the events of the previous night. I know I was.

  It wasn’t until we’d passed Sugarloaf and Summerland Keys and were just leaving Big Pine Key and entering the Seven Mile Bridge that
I suspected we were being followed. There was a large blacked-out Suburban that was getting bigger and bigger in my rearview mirror with each passing second. Looking at my speedometer, I saw that we were traveling ten miles an hour over the forty-five limit, which meant that whoever was driving the big Suburban was either in a terrible hurry at zero six hundred on a Sunday morning or we were being followed.

  “What is it?” Sam asked, noticing how often I was looking into the rearview mirror. She turned around and stared out the back window. The Suburban was now only a few hundred feet behind us, but I noticed it had slowed a little. “You think it might be the guys from last night?”

  I shrugged. “I sure as hell hope not.” I grabbed my Sig from the center console and placed it on my lap. “But I like to assume the worst.”

  I watched the Suburban intently for a few minutes as it kept its distance to about a hundred feet behind us. Ten minutes later, we drove through Bahia Honda Key and entered the longest stretch of bridge in the Keys without land. I kept an eye on the Suburban, and right when we were about to hit the midpoint between Bahia Honda and Marathon, it sped up in a hurry.

  “Shit,” I said, grabbing my Sig and hitting the gas. “Call Tony and tell him to floor it!” I looked at Sam, who was shocked by the loud and intense tone of my voice. “Sam! Tell him to get the hell out of here. That guy’s about to try and ram us.”

  Sam took a quick glance behind us, then grabbed her phone, tapped the screen and held it up to the side of her head. After she relayed my message to Tony, he floored the Pathfinder in front of us. I watched as the speedometer on my Tacoma rose quickly up past eighty, then ninety miles per hour. The concrete walls that lined both sides of the bridge flew past us in a blur, along with the turquoise water surrounding us, which had just recently become visible in the morning light. I looked into the rearview mirror and saw that the blacked-out Suburban was still gaining on us and was now no more than fifty feet behind. My eyes grew wide as I watched a guy lean out of the passenger-side window, his hands clutching what looked like a stockless AK-47.