by Tripp Ellis
Mists of sweat formed on Grant's skin. He could talk tough about withstanding torture all he wanted. But something told me this man wouldn't last long.
Grant Andrews's eyes followed Shaw about the kitchen as she contemplated the implements of torture, trying to figure out where to start.
Shaw finally pulled a cigar from the inside pocket in her jacket. She peeled off the plastic wrap, snipped the end, then used the propane blowtorch to light it.
Andrews swallowed hard.
Kennedy took a few puffs, and the cherry glowed red. She leaned in and blew smoke into Grant's face.
The terrorist coughed.
Shaw had a diabolical grin on her face. "There are a few things you should be aware of. One, nobody knows you're here. Two, I'm a complete sociopath with anger management issues. Three, I don't get squeamish at the sight of blood. Four, I have no problem torturing you for days, then carving you into little pieces and feeding you to the sharks."
"I am a student at Vanden University. You clearly have me confused with someone else."
Shaw's eyes narrowed. "Do you think I'm fucking around with you?"
She puffed on the cigar, glowing the cherry red.
Andrews shifted nervously, sweat rolling down his skin.
Without hesitation, Shaw jammed the glowing hot cherry into Grant's cheek, just below his left eye. His skin sizzled, and the putrid stench of burning flesh hit my nostrils and made me wince. The terrorist's horrid screams filled the room.
Shaw held the burning cigar against his flesh for what seemed like an eternity before pulling it away.
The seared skin still smoldered.
Andrews groaned in agony. He slumped in the chair, sobbing, tears streaming.
Shaw was bat-shit crazy.
"What's the matter? You knew there would be sacrifices in the course of this operation," she said, spitting his own words back at him. "Let me clue you in on something. The nightmare is just starting for you. I have a lot of toys to play with," she said, motioning to her arsenal. "And I plan on using all of them. Tell me where Damian is, and the pain doesn't get any worse."
Andrews was silent for a moment.
JD and I watched with our jaws dropped.
The pot on the stove rumbled to a boil.
"How long do you think Jonah will hold out once he sees what happened to you? He'll start singing. All of your suffering will have been in vain," Shaw said.
There was another long pause.
"I don't know where Damian is. That was part of the plan in case of capture. No one knows exactly what the other is doing."
Shaw puffed on the cigar again, glowing the cherry. This time she hovered it millimeters away from Grant's eye. He leaned his head away and tried to avoid the searing heat.
Shaw glided the cherry closer to the man's eyeball.
"Okay, okay!" Andrews whimpered.
Shaw backed off with the cigar.
"All I know is that Damian is launching the drone from the water. I don't know where. I swear!"
"I need more than that," Shaw demanded.
"He was going to steal a boat. That's all I know. The plan was to launch the drone from the boat and attack the country club."
Shaw backed away and set the cigar on the edge of the sink with the cherry hanging over the basin. Wisps of smoke drifted into the air.
She moved back to the chair, grabbed Andrews by the arm, and yanked him to his feet. Shaw escorted him down the hallway to the bedroom and exchanged the prisoner for Jonah. She made sure to pull off Jonah's black hood so he could see Grant's seared flesh.
Shaw brought Jonah into the kitchen and shoved him in the chair. His face was covered with sweat, and his eyes were wide. He'd heard everything that happened to Andrews, and his body trembled with fear. His eyes took in all the implements of torture.
Shaw returned to the sink, grabbed the cigar, and took a few more puffs. She blew the smoke into the air and lorded over the prisoner. "I just need to confirm a few things. Be honest with me, and nothing bad will happen. You've seen what happened to your friend. I'll do worse to you."
Jonah swallowed hard.
"Where is Damian?"
30
After seeing what happened to his accomplice, Jonah wasn't about to mess with Shaw. "As far as I know, Damian is on a boat. That's all I know."
Shaw's methods were crude and barbaric, but effective. She taunted Jonah with the cigar.
"I swear, I don't know much. Damian has the drone. The target is the golf tournament. We were heading up to Miami to fly out of the country."
"How did you acquire the virus?" Shaw asked.
"It was brought in on a cargo ship. That's all I know."
"The pathogen was leaked from an American lab. We believe it was modified in China, then given to Iran," Shaw said.
"I don't know anything about where it came from. I just know it came in on a cargo ship. We knew they were having issues. Andrews and I rendezvoused with the ship offshore. We wore protective gear and acquired the pathogen. We returned to Coconut Key and gave it to Kayden. He handled the assembly of the drone and the spray mechanism and loaded it with the pathogen. He must have gotten exposed in the process."
"How did Damian get it from him?" Shaw asked.
"Damian picked the device up, disinfected it, then brought it to his current location. He's worried he's infected."
"Has he started to show symptoms?" Shaw asked.
"I don't think so," Jonah said. "I think he's more paranoid than anything else."
"Who recruited you for this?" Shaw asked.
Jonah hesitated. "I've answered your questions. What will I get for assisting you?"
"Well, for starters, you get to keep your eyeballs," Shaw said, menacing the glowing cigar in front of his eyes.
Jonah swallowed hard.
"I'm going to ask you again, who recruited you?"
"Iranian intelligence. They provided us with the funds and the promise of a large cash payout once the mission was completed."
"I need names," Shaw said.
Jonah rattled off a list of foreign operatives associated with the scheme.
When Shaw had extracted enough information, she returned him to the bedroom, which had been converted into a makeshift holding cell. The other officer kept an eye on them while Shaw rejoined us in the kitchen.
"We're looking for a lone terrorist on a boat," JD said.
"If they're telling the truth," Shaw replied.
"I think it's time we bring in the FBI," I said.
Shaw nodded.
"How do you plan on explaining the damage to Andrews?" I asked.
Shaw shrugged. "What damage? He was like that when I found him."
Shaw's eyes pierced into us, demanding compliance.
I didn't want to delve into the ethics of Shaw's actions. There was a credible terrorist threat. Thousands, if not millions, of lives were at risk, including the life of the President. We didn't have much time, and she needed to acquire actionable intel.
Would I have done the same thing? I don't know. I knew one thing for certain… I never wanted to get on Kennedy Shaw's bad side.
"That was a little… extreme," I said, putting it mildly.
"Extreme? You want to know about extreme?" Shaw asked with a fiery intensity in her eyes.
I could tell she was about to unload.
"These men have clear ties to Iranian terror groups. Should I give you a history lesson? It's not pretty. Hundreds of lives lost. Did you forget about the bombings in Beirut? The 241 Marines killed? Their support of the 9/11 attacks? The truck bombs, the detainees, the attacks on US Navy ships? Have you forgotten about all that? Do you know how many plots we have disrupted in DC and New York over the last several years? Do you want me to go into all the classified incidents?"
Her eyes grew slick with emotion. This was clearly a subject she had personal experience with. Her history lesson painted a grim picture. She didn't have to say it, but I knew she had lost someone clo
se to her as a result of these attacks. Perhaps a friend, perhaps a family member, perhaps a lover?"
"Forgive me if I have neither the time nor the patience to suffer fools," Shaw continued. "We are in imminent danger. And I will do whatever it takes to protect my homeland."
There was a long moment of silence.
"What happens to these guys now?" I asked.
"You know the drill. They'll be transferred to a black-site and interrogated further," Shaw said.
I called Sheriff Daniels and filled him in on the situation without going into too much detail. Daniels put out a BOLO on Damian and notified the Coast Guard. They would patrol the waterways and search the marinas, looking for anything unusual. Shaw contacted the FBI and updated them on the threat and the suspects. It was in their hands now. Together with the Secret Service, they would prepare the country club for the golf tournament.
A CIA operative drove us back to the marina at Diver Down. Kennedy rode with us. We hopped out of the black SUV. Before zipping out of the parking lot, Kennedy said, "I'll be in touch."
She pulled the door shut, and the tires spit gravel as the vehicle launched away.
I think Jack was genuinely frightened of Kennedy. Who wouldn't be after seeing what she was capable of?
"Don't get me wrong, I'd still hit that," JD said. "But I might be a little afraid afterward. I'd hide the knives if she spent the night."
"Don't get on her bad side, that's all," I joked.
"With my track record, it's not if, it's when."
I chuckled.
We strolled into Diver Down and took a seat at the bar.
"Hey guys," Teagan said with a bubbly smile. "How's your day been?"
"Don't ask," JD said.
She frowned. "I'm sorry. That bad?"
"I'm thinking we may want to close down the restaurant, temporarily," I said.
A quizzical look twisted on Teagan's face. "What's going on?"
"You and Alejandro might want to get out of town for a few days," I said.
"What!?"
"Just as a precautionary measure."
"Now you're really freaking me out."
I gave a quick glance to JD, wondering how much I should reveal. "Let's just say that we're trying to stop something big. It might be a good time for a vacation."
"Big? Like, you mean, dangerous?" Her face twisted. "What are we talking about? Is somebody going to detonate a bomb?"
JD and I exchanged another look.
"Not exactly. But it's—"
"I thought you were psychic," JD said, cutting me off. "Are you getting any funny vibes?"
"I told you, it doesn't really work like that. I need some type of connection."
"We're looking for a guy on a boat. He's going to do bad things," I said.
"Do you have something of his?" Teagan asked. "A belonging?"
"No, but I may be able to get one."
"I can't make any promises. So don't count on me for anything."
"Hey, at this point, I think anything is worth a shot," I said.
I called Shaw. "Do you still have Grant's house under surveillance?"
"I’ve got a crew on it just in case Damian comes back."
"I need something from inside the house."
"What?"
"Anything that belonged to Damian. A watch, a cell phone, a piece of jewelry. Any type of small item." I looked to Teagan for confirmation.
She nodded.
"And why do you need this?"
"It's a long story, but it might help us locate Damian."
"I can't imagine how that's going to help our situation," Shaw said.
"What have we got to lose?"
She was silent for a moment. "I'll send in an operative and see what we can find. I'll be in touch."
I ended the call and slipped the phone back into my pocket.
"Do you want to tell me what's really going on?" Teagan asked. "Does this have anything to do with you being quarantined in the hospital?"
31
We closed Diver Down for the rest of the day, much to the disappointment of Harlan and the other regulars. I told Harlan he might want to go visit his son in Miami, but he wasn't inclined to leave Coconut Key. "If the world's gonna end, it can take me with it."
Nothing would scare the grumpy old Marine from his home, not even the threat of a lethal pathogen.
I collected Buddy and Fluffy, along with some of their toys, food, and a transport cage for the little Jack Russell. I asked Teagan to take them with her when she headed north.
"Where am I going to go?" she asked.
"Go to Miami. Check into a hotel. I'll pay for it. If things go terribly wrong here, the infection could spread rapidly."
Her terrified eyes gazed at me. "This is like something out of a nightmare."
"Relax, nothing has happened yet. And if JD and I have a say in it, nothing bad will happen."
She looked like she was starting to unravel. "I don't know if I can handle this."
"There's nothing to handle. Just get in the car, drive north, take a day off."
"No, that's not what I'm talking about," Teagan said. "This is a lot of pressure. What if I can't help you? Worse, what if I send you in the wrong direction?"
"Just give it a try," I said. "Nobody is going to hold you responsible for anything."
A black SUV pulled into the parking lot and screeched to a stop. Shaw spilled out of the vehicle and marched into Diver Down. She held up a lighter and handed it to me. "Don't worry, it's been disinfected."
"You're sure this belonged to Damian?"
"I'm not sure of anything," Shaw said. "We found it in one of the bedrooms that we believe Damian occupied. Do you want to tell me what this is about?"
"It's an experiment," I said.
I handed the lighter to Teagan. She nervously glanced between Kennedy and me.
"This probably isn't going to work," she said.
"That's okay," I replied. "Just give it a try."
Kennedy's eyes narrowed. "Good Lord. Please tell me this isn't what I think it is?"
"Teagan has documented psychic abilities," JD stated.
"Documented?" Shaw asked, arching an incredulous eyebrow.
"I can confirm it," JD said. "I lost $350 bucks to her."
It was a surprising change of tune. I never expected Jack would be an advocate of Teagan’s supposed psychic abilities.
The muscles in Kennedy’s jaw flexed, and her face reddened. “I wasted over an hour acquiring this item for you. Now you tell me that a psychic bartender is going to somehow channel the vibes from the lighter and, what, tell us where Damian is?"
I nodded innocently. "Basically, yes."
She scoffed.
Teagan shrunk, meekly.
"You're not helping," I told Kennedy.
"Me? I'm not helping?" she snapped, then scoffed.
I gave her a stern glance. "Have you been able to figure out where Damian is?"
That shut her up for a moment. "No."
"So, this can't hurt." I turned my attention back to Teagan. "Go ahead, take your time. Tell me what you see."
Teagan nodded with a worried look on her face. "Like I said, I'm not making any promises."
She clasped the lighter in her hand, closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. She held it for a moment, then exhaled.
We all watched with bated breath as she tried to channel something from the lighter.
The room was silent.
We leaned in, anticipating her revelation.
Teagan held her breath.
So did we.
A frustrated exhale burst from her lips. "I got nothing."
We all deflated.
Shaw rolled her eyes. "Waste of time!"
"I'm sorry," Teagan said. "I don't do well with pressure. You're stressing me out," she said to Shaw.
"Okay, fine," Shaw said. "You guys keep channeling mystical spirits, or whatever you need to do. I'm gonna get back to work. Call me if, by some miracle, you
gather useful intel."
She spun around and marched out of the restaurant, pushing open the doors, swinging them wide.
She strolled across the parking lot, hopped into the backseat of the SUV, and the driver sped away.
"She's kind of a bitch," Teagan said.
"You haven't seen the half of it," JD muttered.
32
"I found some pretty juicy texts between Damian and a woman named Samara Chapman," Isabella said.
I had asked Isabella to look into Damian's cell phone records.
"Very explicit. And they exchanged a lot of lewd pictures, some of which can’t be unseen. I think it's safe to say they were hooking up," she continued.
"You have an address for Samara?"
"I do." She texted it to me. "She waits tables at Mud Bugs and takes classes at the community college."
"When was her last contact with Damian?"
"Four days ago. After that, it's radio silence."
"Has she made any plans for air travel?"
"No record of any ticket purchases on her credit card," Isabella said.
"I think we need to pay her a visit," I said. "Keep surveillance on her phone. Let me know if anything comes through. Damian may try to contact her at some point. Can you tell where she is now?"
"Her phone isn't pinging a cell tower. Might be turned off."
I thanked Isabella and ended the call.
I caught JD up to speed and we left Diver Down, heading across the island to the Riptide Apartments, looking for Samara. We rang the buzzer on the call box, but there was no answer. We decided to make our way to Mud Bugs and see if she was working. We spoke with the manager, and he said Samara hadn’t been in for a few days and she wasn't answering his phone calls. He seemed genuinely worried about her.
I thought that maybe Samara had left Coconut Key and was waiting in Miami to escape with Damian after he carried through with the attack. She could have been anywhere. If she was using cash to travel, she'd be almost impossible to find.
I tried calling her cellphone, but just got a voicemail. I called back instantly, and by some miracle, she picked up.
"Hello?"
"Samara, this is Deputy Wild with Coconut County. I'd like to ask you a few questions."