Off Track: An Off Series Novella

by Glen Robins

  “The address was on the other side of the island, along the main road.

  “‘I assume your men know the basics of SCUBA,’ he said, ‘since that is one of the services you offer.’ He looked at me with a sideways glance.

  “I kept my cool, nodding slowly as I took it all in, not about to tip my hand and show my nerves.

  “‘Good,’ he said. ‘Their knowledge will be enhanced, and their skill set increased.’ This he said with the clap of his hands. ‘We shall meet again tonight, and you shall learn all the details.’ He turned and left, and my insides twisted into a knot.

  “I had two hours to stew and brood and worry before our meeting. It was a long two hours.”

  Chapter Six

  Three and a Half Years Before Meeting Collin Cook

  Gun Bay, Grand Cayman Island

  Both Rob and Lukas are mesmerized. They are listening intently, so I carry on without a break.

  “My crew and I arrived a little after nine o’clock in the evening at a magnificent estate near Gun Bay on the East End of Grand Cayman. The home looked more like a medieval a castle. The estate was surrounded by twenty-foot-high walls made of large stone blocks that were adorned with turrets at each corner and wrought iron spikes jutting up along the top, running the length of the wall. This made for an imposing sight as the taxi pulled up in the driveway. The driver’s eyes grew wide and he let out an audible, ‘Whoa,’ as he pulled his Chevy Astro van off Austin Connolly Drive and into the semicircular driveway paved with slabs of native stone. I counted four sentries patrolling the grounds and two more atop the roof. My guess was that there were a similar number of sentries monitoring the back side of the property.

  “The front of the house stretched out to the north. In the darkness, I could not tell where it ended. Light glowed in only a few of the many windows.

  “As the five of us stumbled out of the taxi and gawked at the imposing sight before us, a sliver of light appeared on the stones at our feet and slowly spread into a larger wedge. My eyes followed the hypotenuse of the gilded triangle and beheld a thick oak door, curved at the top and set in a stone archway at the driveway’s apex. It must have been ten feet tall. The silhouette of a stout man filled the doorway, golden light pouring out from behind him.

  “I recognized the figure as the man with whom I had been conducting business the past several months. A deep chuckle emanated from the open doorway, his shoulders rising and falling as he enjoyed our reactions. ‘Come, come,’ he said, motioning us toward the house with his arm. ‘You must stop your ogling and come inside. Please.’

  “As we entered, I had to concentrate on not letting my jaw drop open. The interior matched the exterior in the sense that it reflected a modern take on Old World design. It felt like the thirteenth century had met one of those TV show designers. Nothing was ornate, but everything was stately and regal in appearance and feel.

  “Though his tone was jovial and welcoming, our host wasted no time. ‘Yes, yes. Take it all in,’ he said. ‘This house is one of many fine properties you’ll find available for rent online. Beautiful, is it not? Not my taste, but it suits our purpose.’ That deep chuckle bounced off the marble floors and the stone walls. ‘Wealthy tourists love exotic experiences in tropical locales. This qualifies, does it not?’ Another chuckle as he waved a hand, gesturing to the whole of what we could see. He led us through the foyer, past a fireplace that occupied most of a wall that set off a sitting area full of cushioned leather sofas and chairs. ‘And they will pay dearly for just such an experience.’

  “He led us through a corridor. There was a door open on the left as we passed by. It appeared to be a well-stocked pantry the size of a bedroom. In the middle of the room I saw an island with a sink and a granite counter running the length of the opposite wall. Our host must have noticed the intrigue on my face as I slowed down to get a better look. ‘A food preparation room used by servants when entertaining,’ he said.

  “On the right was an impressive collection of wine bottles in a six-foot-high, ten-foot-long wooden rack. It seemed to be about one-third full.

  “The hallway ended at a spacious room. One wall held floor-to-ceiling windows which overlooked a patio paved with stone. A swimming pool glowed an azure blue and torch lights illuminated manicured landscaping all around. Just beyond the landscaping was another thick stone wall. This one was shorter, maybe three-feet high, but trimmed with spikes like those on the wall in front of the house. Beyond the barrier lay the turquoise Caribbean, now nothing but a cobalt field reflecting the light of the moon and stars, spread out in all directions. Even through the glass, the pulse of the ocean could be heard. A crash, followed by the swoosh of sand and pebbles being dragged, followed by another crash, the most soothing sound in the world to an old sea dog like myself. The man was amused by our clumsiness in the presence of such grandeur, both natural and manmade. He let out another chuckle. Answering our unspoken question, he said, ‘$5,000 per night. That’s how much.’

  “The five of us exchanged flabbergasted expressions.

  “Pulling out a chair, he said with the tone of a businessman, ‘Please be seated. Fruit and water will arrive shortly. Then we shall review the details of your mission.’

  “Each of us pulled out one of the high-backed wooden chairs that circled a glass table. They were remarkably solid and heavy. The glass tabletop was beveled at the edges and held up by heavy wooden legs, stained a dark brown that matched the chairs. It was a stunning piece of furniture that fit with everything we had seen so far.

  “‘We have no time to waste,’ the man with no name said to us. ‘You have much to learn if you are to be successful. And it is imperative that you are successful, so please listen carefully. Ask questions to ensure proper understanding. Stay focused. Tonight, we work in the pool with the dive gear. Tomorrow, in the ocean with sea scooters, cutting torches, and lights. Understand?’

  “My crew looked at each other, then at me. Their eyes were wide open. I lowered my head a few degrees and pursed my lips as a sign of approval. Then, one at a time, each man nodded his head in agreement.

  “‘By the end of your training, you will know everything you need to know to dive to a depth of one-hundred feet and use an underwater cutting torch.’

  “Again, the eyes went wide and looked to me as if to ask, ‘Are you sure about this?’

  “I again gave another nonverbal consent, a silent vote of confidence. They shrugged and continued to listen.

  “‘Let’s start at the beginning,’ said the man. ‘My superiors have connections to people in powerful positions, and those people have connections to people in a wide variety of, shall we say, business ventures. Those connections informed them of a large shipment of cocaine heading out of Colombia going to Haiti. The Colombian cartel that runs this operation is smart, but skittish. They take every precaution imaginable.’

  “Our host paused as he scanned each face. A woman showed up as if from thin air with a silver plate loaded with a variety of sliced fruit. Six tiny little silver forks in a silver cup sat in the center of it all. She set it on the table and the man with no name thanked her. Right behind her was another woman carrying a wooden serving tray holding a bucket of ice and six bottles of water sweating with condensation.

  “I noticed my men’s eyes following the shapely curves of the women as they turned and walked away. I cast a disapproving look in their direction. They caught the hint and returned their attention to the unnamed man.

  “When the women had left the room, he started where he left off. ‘Our sources tell us the ship will arrive in the Port of Cartagena in approximately forty-eight hours. With a twenty-four-hour turnaround to unload and reload, we have seventy-two hours to train, pack, travel, retrieve, and start back.’ Again, he searched each of our faces for comprehension. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll go over the details of each step with you. For now, understand that we have limited time. Also understand that you were chosen because of your competence and reputation.’ He sh
ot me a sideways glance to remind me of our earlier conversation.

  “My mind was spinning, and my guts were twisting. What he just said may have been half true. The other half was that he had me scared.

  “‘Please. Have some refreshments. You will need your energy tonight.’ He said this with a smile and an outstretched arm. That deep chuckle returned, bouncing off all the hard surfaces. He stood and excused himself. We assumed that was our cue to eat, so my crew dug in. The desire for food had left me, so I refrained, allowing them more. I’m not usually a nervous person, but everything about this job had me on edge, and we had yet to unravel all of the specifics.

  “The food had nearly all been devoured by the time the man returned. A wide grin spread across his face. White teeth gleamed in contrast to his ebony skin.

  “‘Let’s continue,’ he said as he slid into his chair at the head of the table. ‘They say timing is everything. I say timing and knowledge. Having the right knowledge at the right time is what gives the truly cunning the ability to generate massive wealth in a short time. It’s all about seizing opportunity when it is presented to you.’ A short burst of that same baritone laughter erupted. ‘You see, we have knowledge that very few people have, therefore we have the ability to create the advantage of timing.’ When he saw the puzzlement on our faces, he chortled again.

  “The unnamed man seemed to take great pleasure in telling us a story, one he no doubt helped create. He relished building mystery and suspense, as well as seeing the anticipation in our expressions. ‘When that ship is loaded up in Cartagena,’ he said, ‘there will be millions of dollars’ worth of cocaine cleverly hidden in several shipping containers which will be stacked on the very top of the heap. Once the ship is underway, the crew has been instructed to re-secure those six containers using quick-release cables that can be controlled remotely using a smart phone. That way, if there is any sort of trouble, they can jettison the suspicious cargo before the authorities make visual contact. It’s very sophisticated but is apparently the new state of the art in the illegal shipping business.’

  “I cleared my throat. ‘What happens after the cargo is jettisoned overboard? It won’t be good for much if it is on the bottom of the ocean.’

  “‘Ah, yes, Captain Sewell,’ he said. ‘You are living up to your reputation as a keen observer and a problem solver. You see, each container will be tightly sealed, but that does not matter. Each will also be fitted with a transmitter that looks something like this.” He slid a stylish leather bag from beneath his chair. I had not noticed it before. After rummaging through it for a brief moment, he produced a square device about the size of a hand calculator, the ones with the large buttons. It fit in his palm and was about five centimeters thick with a sturdy antenna that stuck up another five centimeters. ‘Each container has one affixed to it,’ he explained as he held it up for us to see. ‘You will use one of these.’ Again, his hand dove into the bag and brought out another gadget. This one looked like a tablet computer encased in a tough waterproof shell. ‘This will help you locate the containers once you are close enough. The transmitters have a range of five-hundred meters and an underwater lifespan of seven hours if they are unharmed.’

  “‘OK,’ I said. ‘But we don’t even know if or when the captain of that ship will need to jettison those containers.’

  “‘Like they said, you are always one step ahead of the rest.’ The man chuckled again. ‘I appreciate that about you, Captain. Remember what I said about knowledge and cunning and creating the advantage of timing?’”

  “I nodded. ‘You’re going to make that captain panic. He’ll drop the cargo because you’ll create the situation that caused him to do so.’

  “‘Precisely. And he’ll drop it before he gets into the deeper offshore water. The Colombian Coast Guard will be a pawn in our little charade because someone with some money and power knows someone with some status and greed who will order an onboard inspection.’

  “I thought about this. ‘Won’t the Coast Guard see them drop the goods?’

  “‘No. They’ll be too far away,’ he said with a look of satisfaction. ‘Our cargo ship captain will be alerted far in advance by one of his contacts in the Coast Guard who is also connected to the cartel. See how this works?’

  “‘Very twisted indeed,’ I said.

  “‘Yes,’ the man said with a smile. ‘When large amounts of money are in play, information can be bought and sold…for the right price and the right favors. We’re talking about people who have been in this game long enough to know the ropes—all of them.’

  “‘Got it,’ I said. ‘Our job will be to arrive in the area and retrieve these drugs within seven hours, before the signal runs out.’

  “‘Close, but not quite,’ he said, using his hands for emphasis. ‘Your job will be to vanish, with the goods, before anyone even knows they’re in the water.’

  “My eyebrows raised involuntarily.

  “He chuckled again. ‘Yes, you will be in position before the ship even arrives. Your men will be in the water as the containers are launched.’ He waited a beat for this information to sink in. ‘Remember, timing is crucial. We create the advantage. You execute on it. Everyone’s happy.’

  “‘Everyone except the Colombian cartel bosses,’ I added.

  “Our broad-shouldered host laughed softly. ‘They will not be happy. That is true. But you stay in that business long enough, you’re going to get burned.’

  “‘Unhappy drug lords make for bad enemies,’ I said.

  “‘Only if they know who their enemy is.’ He rose from his seat, the soft chuckle fading. ‘Let us begin our training exercises, shall we?’ A large hand swept toward the pool outside, indicating this portion of the planning session was over and it was time to get in the water.”

  Chapter Seven

  Three and a Half Years Before Meeting Collin Cook

  Gun Bay, Grand Cayman Island

  Lukas studies my face as I pause for another sip. “So, he ignores the danger of retribution from the drug lords because it’s not his problem? He leaves that for you to deal with?”

  I cock my head and nod. “I suppose that’s what it boils down to. The compensation was good, after all. High rewards most often involve high risk.”

  “I know about that,” says Rob. “I’ve been on the wrong side of that equation before. But never anything like this. Sounds like you were put in a pretty tough spot.”

  “Yes,” I say. “It felt like I was stuck. Only bad consequences to any choice I had in front of me, so I just moved forward with it. I remember following the unnamed man to the patio and watching as he walked a few paces toward a hedge in front of the short stone wall that marked the end of the property. He pulled a phone from his pocket, punched the screen a few times, then held it to his ear. After a brief conversation, the phone returned to the pocket and the man pivoted to face the five of us as we stood around the outdoor table.

  “I was still trying to unravel the knot in my gut, so I focused on the hedge beyond where the man stood. I realized that a few feet past the railing was a cliff. Some forty feet below, the waves crashed against the rocky shore in their rhythmic and soothing way. I closed my eyes and took in the auditory splendor. All of my life I had lived on or near the ocean. All of my life I had been serenaded by its chorus. Nearly all of my adult life I had made a living on or from the water. I had never feared it, though I held it in the highest esteem. No man lives a long life on the ocean if he does not respect it.

  “Through the years, the sea had given me much. It had also taken much, including my son and a young sister. Now, with a most precarious mission about to commence, I prayed that the ocean would grant me one more favor, just one. I was fully cognizant that it was a rather large favor I was requesting, but I asked it anyway. Please, I thought, let my men plumb your depths, retrieve what our benefactor has requested, and return safely. Just this once.

  “My attention came back to the present when our host clapped his han
ds, presumably to get our attention. ‘There is much to do. Let’s begin your preparations.’ His quick, jovial smile, I had learned, masked a laser-focus on the business at hand.

  “Within seconds of the phone returning to the man’s pocket, two men and a woman appeared from a small cottage on the far end of the property. They marched across the lawn and greeted us politely. Each possessed a military bearing, even though they wore swimwear and sandals. All three looked muscular and fit and no more than thirty years of age. At least, that was my best guess.

  “‘Meet your instructors,’ said the unnamed man, gesturing with his extended arm. ‘Mr. Taylor will walk you through the diving equipment.’ The tallest one raised his head, his hands held behind his back, and nodded as our host spoke. ‘I suppose this will be a refresher course of sorts on the techniques of scuba diving. Ms. Bodden here will familiarize you with the dive tables and teach you how to avoid getting the bends.’ The lady stood between the two men but seemed perfectly comfortable and confident. She had a beauty about her, tempered by a no-nonsense demeanor and a quiet calmness that exuded inner strength. ‘Mr. Watlers is an underwater salvage technician.’ He stood on the far right and resembled a short tree. He was thick. His arms were the size of limbs, each leg like half a trunk. “Once Mr. Taylor and Ms. Bodden have brought you up to speed on the technicalities of deep-water diving, Mr. Watlers will give you hands-on learning with the dive torches you’ll need in order to extract the goods from their hidden locations. Good luck.’

  “Mr. No Name nodded to me as he quick-stepped to the sliding door and re-entered the house. We didn’t see him for another four hours.

  “By the time our training session ended, it was 1:30 a.m. My crew had been in the water nearly the whole time. Their fingers were pruned, but their spirits were soaring. A new confidence welled up within me watching them celebrate their new knowledge and skill.