Wild Tide

by Tripp Ellis

I recognized the thugs with machine guns—they were Luciana's replacement bodyguards. She emerged from the salon a moment later and was all business.

  Rick was with her, and he looked terrified. His eyes were wide, and he fidgeted nervously.

  My brow lifted with surprise.

  If Luciana had any feelings about me one way or the other, she didn’t show it. A goon took the brick of cocaine that we surfaced with and handed it to her.

  "I see that you’ve found my submarine. I have to admit, I was hoping you wouldn't put this whole thing together, but you seem to be good at what you do."

  I scowled at her complement.

  "It seems we have a situation here,” she said. “I have $250 million worth of cocaine sitting in that submarine. That is a considerable amount of product. I'm thankful that Rick and his former partner—what was his name—Craig?

  “Glenn,” Rick mumbled.

  “…Right, Glenn. Fortunately they stumbled across it. I shudder to think that merchandise could have been lost forever. But those two dipshits decided to sell something that didn't belong to them."

  Rick cringed as she glared at him.

  Luciana held the brick of cocaine that was stamped with the cartel’s signature mark. "Are you familiar with this brand?"

  Every cartel marked their packaging with a distinct logo. It came in handy when recovering lost merchandise, or trying to find out who was moving stolen product.

  "Any dealer on the street should have known who this merchandise belonged to,” Luciana said. “Sadly, Rick and Glenn’s entrepreneurial spirit was misguided. And they decided to partner with the wrong gang.”

  The Los Demonios Cartel had established a fearsome reputation for ruthless violence. I didn’t know what level Luciana was in the organization, but apparently she was pretty high up.

  Luciana smiled. "You see, those men who killed my guards the other night weren't there for you. They were coming after me. The Los Sombríos Segadores thought by taking me out of the picture, they could take my product with impunity."

  "So you had Diego Ortez killed and carved into little pieces?" I asked.

  "A demonstration. A warning to all who would dare cross me."

  "An effective message," I said.

  She handed the brick of cocaine back to one of her goons.

  "So now what?" I asked.

  "Now you work for me."

  I arched an incredulous eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

  "I need experienced divers to recover the cocaine from the sub. Rick can only do so much. Glenn became difficult and had to be taken care of. But now that I have you two, things should go much faster."

  "You really think I'm going to help you?" I said, defiantly.

  "I know you are."

  I exchanged a wary glance with JD.

  "I am aware of the difficulties of this task. The limited amount of time that can be spent at the bottom. The extended surface intervals. Believe me, I found out the hard way.” She sighed. “I lost a good man.”

  “I’d be happy to contact the DEA,” I said. “I’m sure they could help you get the cargo up very quickly.”

  She sneered at me. ”I need all the merchandise on the surface within 48 hours."

  I balked. "Impossible. Not unless you have a team of divers working around the clock."

  "I'm growing impatient, and I'm tired of excuses. You’re a smart cookie. Use your ingenuity. I'm sure you can find a way. I don’t care how you do it, just get the job done."

  "Or what?" I asked.

  Luciana smiled again.

  She had an ace up her sleeve, and she relished playing it. "I thought I might encounter some resistance from you, so I purchased an insurance plan. You two are going to do as I say and keep your mouth shut. You're not going to report this to the Sheriff's Office, or the FBI, or anyone else. If you do this for me, we can all go about our lives like we never met. But if you refuse, or you go to your friends at the department, or you try to fuck me on this in any way, then things aren't going to turn out so well for your sister.”

  I clenched my jaw, and my hands balled into fists. My face flushed red. "What have you done with her?"

  “Don’t worry. She’s safe, for now. It's really simple. Just do as I ask, then I’ll let her go. If you don't, well… I will make sure she suffers.”

  "I swear to God, if anything happens to her, I'll kill you!”

  Luciana chuckled. "You are in no position to make threats.”

  Luciana called across the water to the neighboring boat. There were thugs with machine guns at the bow and stern. Another thug emerged from the cockpit with a pistol at Madison’s head. His hand gripped her arm. She was gagged and bound at the wrists.

  My blood boiled.

  Rage filled my veins.

  Hate radiated from deep inside me.

  Madison’s brow knitted together, and her eyes looked sad and terrified. Tears streamed down her cheek.

  A diabolical grin curled on Luciana’s full lips. “What's it going to be?"

  30

  I had no choice but to comply with Luciana’s demands. I couldn’t risk Madison’s life.

  And I was going to handle this my way.

  No cops. No FBI. I couldn’t take a chance on this getting screwed up. And there was no telling who Luciana had on the payroll.

  I exchanged a glance with JD, and as always, he was on board with whatever I decided. He was always there when I needed him in a pinch.

  Luciana and her goons left us on the water. They boarded her yacht and sailed away into the darkness.

  "I'm sorry, man," Rick said. "She threatened my wife, and my dogs. My fucking dogs! I couldn't say anything."

  As soon as he said dogs, I thought about Buddy.

  ”What exactly happened to Glenn?" I asked.

  "She shot him. She wanted us to dive again without a proper surface interval. Glenn refused. She put two shots into his chest."

  Rick slumped, and his eyes welled with tears. "I screwed up. We just wanted to make a little extra money. Times have been tight, lately. Diego said he could move the product. It was way too big for us to handle."

  “What about Carlos?” I asked.

  “They put him in a fucking wood chipper. A wood chipper, man. These people are ruthless.”

  “Why?”

  “He was Diego’s half-brother. They had orchestrated the hit on her.”

  “Nice lady,” JD quipped. He ribbed me a little. “You sure can pick’em.”

  “There's no way to bring that coke up on her timeline," Rick said.

  I thought about it for moment.

  “Am I in trouble?" Rick asked. "I mean, am I going to go to jail?"

  “You committed multiple felonies," I said.

  His face twisted, and he looked like he was going to cry.

  "I'm sure if you cooperate, and assist the department, I could put in a good word,” I said.

  "What ever you need, man! I want to make this right."

  "We could dive in shifts," JD said. "Use a winch to pull up the merchandise. If we devise a good system, it might go faster than anticipated."

  "I've got a better idea," I said. "Let's go talk to Ian. Maybe we could use the ROV? The Explorer 2.”

  JD's eyes brightened. “Good thinking!”

  He moved into the salon to the main helm and cranked up the engines. The water burbled and foamed near the swim platform. He throttled up and we headed back to Coconut Key.

  We dropped Rick off at Diver Down.

  “Go home,” I said. “Sit tight.”

  “I meant it when I said I wanted to help,” Rick asserted.

  “If you want to help, go home and get your wife and pets out of town.”

  He reluctantly agreed and shuffled away down the dock.

  My thoughts turned to Buddy.

  No one was looking after him.

  I raced down the dock, and pushed into Diver Down. Alejandro was working behind the bar, about to close up for the evening. There were only a few regulars
inside.

  "What's going on with Madison?" Alejandro asked.

  "When was the last time you talked to her?"

  "I got a strange phone call from her a few hours ago. Said something came up and she needed me to look after the bar. She was gone when I got here.”

  I raced to the stairs and bolted up to her loft above the restaurant. The door was unlocked, which wasn't unusual. I burst into her apartment and scanned the area.

  My heart pounded in my chest.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Buddy in his crate. I knelt down and opened the door and Buddy ran into my arms. I held him up, and he licked my face.

  I loved on him for a moment. "It's okay, boy. I got you now.”

  He wagged his tail excitedly, but he was still trembling. It had been hours since Madison had been abducted, and the poor thing was all alone. Fortunately, she put his water bowl and food in the crate.

  I needed to find someone to look after him while I took care of business. I didn't know how long I'd be gone.

  I emptied the water from his dog bowl in the sink and poured the dog food back into the bag. Then I tossed everything into the crate and carried Buddy in one arm and the supplies in the other.

  I descended the stairs, traipsed through the bar, and pushed into the parking lot.

  I met JD on the dock.

  His face crinkled with confusion. "Who's this?"

  "This is Petty Officer First Class Buddy."

  Buddy barked, but he calmed down after JD petted him.

  ”I figured the ship could use a good first mate."

  Jack arched a curious eyebrow. "Is he housebroken?"

  "Yes," I assured.

  "Don't you think you should have checked with your landlord to see if pets were allowed?"

  "It's always easier to ask for forgiveness, isn't it?" I smiled.

  "Tell my ex-wife that," JD muttered.

  "I'm thinking Scarlett could look after him while we go on this adventure," I said.

  JD agreed. "I've got her staying with a friend right now. I told her to get out of the house as soon as I found out about Madison. If Luciana is looking to hit us where it hurts, Scarlett’s not safe either. I told her to take one of my pistols for good measure.”

  “Does she know how to use it?”

  “Learned from the best,” JD boasted.

  “I don’t remember teaching her,” I said.

  His scowled at me.

  JD and I climbed into the red Porche and drove to Scarlett’s friend’s apartment. Haley lived at the Ocean View Estates which, ironically, didn't have an ocean view.

  It was a second floor walk up apartment. #209, building G. A guy answered the door when we knocked. He looked about 20, and had a high-and-tight haircut. Either he liked to keep it short for the summer, or he was a jar head.

  The bulldog tattoo he had to on his shoulder suggested the latter. It just peeked out beyond his sleeve and told me that he had spent some time at Parris Island.

  "I'm Scarlett's dad," JD said.

  “Yes, sir. Come right in, sir. I'm Brian."

  He shook hands with JD and me, and introductions were made. He held the door for us as we stepped into the small, but well appointed apartment.

  The girls went gaga over Buddy.

  I released him from the crate, and Haley and Scarlett instantly dropped to the ground to play with him.

  I gave them instructions on his care. "Do you think you can handle him?”

  Scarlett flashed me a sassy look. "I can take better care of him than you can."

  The girls baby-talked Buddy, and he licked their faces. They were all smiles and giggles, smitten with the little guy.

  "He's adorable," Scarlett said. "Where did you get him?"

  "We don't have time to be screwing around," JD said.

  "What's going on?" Scarlett asked.

  "Madison's been taken," I said.

  Scarlett's eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped.

  "I need you to sit tight," JD said. “Don’t leave this apartment. Don't let anybody in. Does everybody understand?"

  "Yes sir," Brian said.

  JD looked at the new Marine. "You, Devil Dog. I'm expecting you to look after these women."

  Brian stood tall, puffing his chest with pride. “Yes, sir!”

  “What’s your MOS, Marine?” JD asked.

  “0311, Rifleman. I’m on 10 day leave before SOI.”

  I could see that JD felt comforted by the fact an infantry Marine would be looking after the girls.

  We left Hailey’s apartment, and went to roust Ian out of bed. Hopefully he’d be inclined to assist us.

  31

  Ian didn't live far from the Institute, and had a luxurious Oceanside house. The two-story had a midcentury modern vibe to it. Sweeping lines, graceful curves, lots of glass that blended interior and exterior spaces.

  Though the Institute was a nonprofit organization, Ian had amassed a small fortune from his patents prior to funding the Oceanographic Institute.

  It was almost midnight when we banged on the door. It took the white-haired man several minutes to answer. When he finally did, he was not too pleased about it. He pulled open the door wearing fuzzy slippers and a robe. "You know what time it is?"

  "I need your help," JD said. "It's an emergency."

  Ian stepped onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind him. Then he hissed, "Why the hell should I help you? You haven't done anything that I asked you to do."

  "Things have gotten rather complicated," JD said. "But I promise, I will run surveillance for you."

  A sour look crinkled on Ian's face for a moment, then he finally relented. "What do you need?

  "We need to borrow the Explorer 2."

  His eyes widened with astonishment. "Absolutely not! Do you know how expensive that prototype is?"

  "This is an emergency," JD said.

  "What the hell are you going to do with it?"

  JD and I exchanged a glance.

  "Police business," JD said.

  Ian's face crinkled. "Police business my ass. Tell me what you're doing with it, or you don't get it."

  JD shared the story with him.

  "Well why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

  JD shrugged.

  "Let me get dressed, then we can go to the Institute." He slipped back inside and emerged a few moments later wearing white pants and a white shirt. "Follow me there," he said as he climbed into his Jeep.

  Ian cranked up the engine, dropped the vehicle in reverse, and backed out of the driveway. The tires chirped as he dropped it into first gear and sped down the road.

  At the Institute, he slid a key card into a slot, then accessed the building and deactivated the alarm with the code. We followed him into the lab where he gave us a brief overview of the Explorer 2. "It has a remote onboard battery pack that's good for roughly 8 hours of continuous use. It's still a prototype, so there are a few bugs. And I only have one version of the hardware controller."

  He handed us the controller that had multiple joysticks. An attached screen displayed angles from multiple onboard cameras. "This will allow you to control the Explorer 2."

  I fiddled with the joysticks.

  "That's not a toy," Ian cautioned.

  I flashed an apologetic glance.

  "The articulated arms have pressure sensitive grip pads. They can pick up a lead weight, or a wineglass. It's able to sense the different densities and not shatter delicate objects. All due to the advanced software and hardware that I designed, of course."

  "Of course," I muttered.

  His eyes narrowed at me, then he cleared his throat. "As I was saying, this is a very expensive prototype. One of a kind. Please be careful with it."

  "We will return it without a scratch," JD assured.

  We loaded the Explorer and the controller into padded transport cases. Ian found an equipment cart and rolled it over to the table. We loaded the gear onto it and pushed our new toy out of the lab and l
oaded it into JD’s Porsche.

  "You boys be careful out there," Ian said.

  We thanked him and headed back to Diver Down.

  At the marina, we lugged the equipment down the dock and transferred the gear onto the Wild Tide and made ready to get underway.

  32

  At the dive site we set up the control center and launched the ROV.

  I grabbed the joysticks and guided it to the murky depths. The Explorer 2 sank into the inky blackness. I hoped it would be narrow enough to fit through the submersible’s hatch, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

  Despite its size, the Explorer was powerful. It was a little challenging to fight against the current, but I kept it on target.

  The running lights illuminated the path ahead, and after some searching, I managed to find the submersible.

  I sat in the cockpit, looking at the glow of the control screen as I navigated toward the target.

  Once I reached the submersible, I hovered over the hatch and used the navigational thrusters to angle the Explorer toward the narrow portal. I plunged the craft inside, then weaved through the internal compartments.

  I glided the ROV into the cargo area and extended the articulated arm. It took a little doing, but I managed to snag a brick of cocaine, after several failed attempts.

  Among the many uses the craft had been designed for, placing limpet mines on the hulls of enemy ships was one of them. The little craft was right at home carrying objects up to 15 pounds. But the large packages, containing multiple kilos, were too heavy for the unit. Those had to be sliced open, and the individual kilos removed.

  I spun the vehicle around 180°, retraced my steps through the sub and exited through the hatch and navigated across the seafloor. I released the brick of cocaine into a wire-grid crab net. Once the net was full, we hoisted it up with a motorized winch.

  The process was long, arduous, and exacting. It took roughly 10 minutes to grab a brick and drop it in the net.

  There were thousands of bricks in the submarine.

  At this rate, we’d be here for days.

  A sick feeling twisted in my stomach. A mist of sweat coated my skin. "This isn't going to work."

  "I'll be eligible for Social Security by the time we finish pulling all of these bricks up,” JD said.