Sins in the Sun: A Vigilante Series crime thriller

by Claude Bouchard

  Transportation had been waiting for Chris and his team when they had arrived at the Casa de Campo Marina at five that morning and following a short drive, they had boarded the Gulfstream for the hop back to Puerto Plata. Despite the early hour, upon arriving at the Ventura Grande, Chris had contacted Oliver and, without going into detail, had informed him Gomez should no longer be a problem. After suggesting Oliver keep abreast of news reports throughout the day, Chris and the others had retired for a few hours of well-deserved sleep, rising in time to join Sandy, Josée and Cathy for lunch and a relaxing afternoon on the beach.

  An eleven o’clock news conference had been held at Base Naval "27 de Febrero" where Admiral Ramon Quesada had announced the arrest of Pedro Gomez and Hector Acero who had been apprehended on a boat with two hundred kilograms of cocaine during a routine Coast Guard patrol.

  Also present had been Major General Armando De La Rosa, head of the National Police and his Deputy Director, Miguel Ortega to announce the seizure of almost three hundred additional kilograms of cocaine as well as related laboratory equipment during a raid at Gomez’s flagship adults-only resort. Assisted by military personnel, the national police was in the process of conducting searches at all of Gomez’s remaining resorts.

  Subsequent reports during the day, in addition to repeating the details of the arrests and raids, also confirmed the district attorney’s office intended to press charges. The case would therefore move on to the second phase of the judicial process in which an investigating judge would evaluate the preliminary evidence presented by the district attorney in the coming days. Currently detained at the naval base, Gomez and Acero would be transferred over the weekend to the Escuela Nacional Penitenciaria in San Cristobal pending the investigating judge’s decision.

  Thrilled by the developments and well aware Chris and his team were responsible, Oliver had organized a private dinner party in his second home, a penthouse apartment suite he kept atop the resort’s ‘quiet building’, consisting of sleeping and living quarters, full kitchen, dining room and a vast private terrace with a pool and hot tub. Dinner would be a delectable seven course feast featuring an array of signature dishes prepared by the head chefs of the Ventura Grande’s à la carte restaurants. In addition to Chris, his colleagues and their spouses, Oliver’s wife, Valeria, and Isabella, their three year old daughter, had joined the festivities.

  Improved but still on the mend following his ordeal twelve days earlier, Oliver rose stiffly from his seat on the terrace with his drink in hand.

  “If I could have everybody’s attention, please,” he called out, the chatting amidst the small group quickly dying down. “I have some highly deserved thanks I need to express, which is why I invited you here this evening, besides benefitting of the excellent company, of course.”

  The others smiled, some raising their glasses as Oliver turned to his wife and daughter with a glisten in his eyes. “I will begin with the loves of my life, my sweet ladies, Valeria and Isabella, who give living a purpose and fill every second of every day with joy and happiness. Thank you for making my life such a wonderful thing and for taking such good care of me. I would be lost and shattered without you.”

  Her eyes brimming with tears, Valeria rose and handed her chattering daughter to Oliver before wrapping her arms around them both in a fiercely warm hug while the others applauded.

  After a moment, Valeria returned to her seat with the giggling Isabella and, after wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Oliver returned his attention to his guests. “Next on the list are the lovely and charming Sandy, Josée and Cathy to whom I owe much thanks for sharing your husbands in my time of need.”

  “Oh, nonsense, Ollie,” said Sandy, seated close enough to playfully swat his thigh. “Sharing them, as you say, in this kind of situation is a no-brainer and, anyhow, they would have helped you whether we liked it or not.”

  Taking Sandy’s hand, he raised it while gingerly bending over to kiss it. “I can’t disagree. Your husbands are strong-willed men but I thank you regardless for your caring and understanding.”

  “Anytime for you, Oliver,” said Josée as glasses were raised in his direction.

  “Thank you,” Oliver replied, bowing slightly. “I now move onto Jonathan, Leslie and Dave. From the first time I met the three of you, I immediately understood why Chris held you in such high regard. I am blessed to consider you my friends and touched more than you can imagine by how you hurried here to help Chris sort out my predicament.”

  “I’m sure I speak for the three of us when I repeat my wife’s words,” said Jonathan. “Anytime for you, Oliver.”

  All nodded and murmured agreement as Oliver turned to Chris. “And last, but certainly not least, I am here, healing day by day and rid of a serious problem because of you. I will never be able to repay you for what you have done for me but I will be forever grateful. You are an amazing man, Chris Barry.”

  “Aw, shucks, Ollie,” said Chris, rising to his feet and giving the man a hug. “Don’t make me get all misty. I have a reputation to maintain.” He stepped back and added, “You needed help, I happened to be there and I really was in a position to do something about your problem. I don’t expect or want repayment. I did this, we did this for a dear friend who was being wrongfully treated. Your problem being gone is all the payback any of us need.”

  “Thank you, all,” Oliver said solemnly before breaking into a smile. “I do have one more announcement to make and I warn you ahead of time, I do not want to hear any arguments. From now on, any time any of you decide you need to take a break in the sun, the Ventura Grande will welcome you, on the house.”

  “That’s very generous, Ollie,” said Chris amidst murmurs of surprise from the others, “But I don’t want you losing the job we worked so hard to help you keep.”

  Oliver laughed and shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about. I met with Damian Galano, the owner, this afternoon and he is the one who extended the offer as a show of his gratitude. In his words, family is always welcome at the Ventura Grande and you are all family. Now, since there is no purpose in discussing this further, I invite everyone into the dining room as the dinner I have planned in your honour is about to be served.”

  * * * *

  Base Naval "27 de Febrero", Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, 7:45 p.m.

  “You understand I’m not happy, Mateo?” Gomez murmured.

  “Of course, Señor Gomez,” Mateo Tejera, his attorney, nervously replied. “Based on everything you have told me, you have obviously been set up.”

  “If it’s so obvious, why am I sleeping here tonight?” Gomez growled.

  “You will be leaving here tomorrow morning,” said Tejera, keeping his growing exasperation in check. “I will be present to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

  “I will be leaving here tomorrow to go to prison,” Gomez snapped. “I would have expected a man of your talent to have me sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

  “Señor Gomez, please be reasonable,” said Tejera, trying to balance his frustration with his fear. “The amount of cocaine they found in your possession as well as at the Paraíso cannot be neglected. Your only line of defence for now is you and Hector were guests on a luxury yacht and then woke up at sea in that boat with the cocaine but you refuse to give the names of the people you were with.”

  “These are important people who may or may not have been involved in setting me up,” Gomez shot back. “I do not want to give them up and ruin a possible lucrative relationship until I’m certain of what happened.”

  “This is ridiculous,” argued Tejera, ignoring Gomez’s fiery glare. “Of course they were involved, and likely working with the Coast Guard and the police.”

  “Anyhow, that is not your concern, at least for now,” said Gomez, ending the discussion. “We will take things one at a time, starting with leaving here tomorrow. I expect you to make sure everything is in order.”

  Tejera sighed and nodded. “As I mentioned earlier, I will be
here tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, Señor Gomez. I will see you in the morning.”

  Chapter 13 – Saturday, December 20, 2014

  Carretera Sánchez (Route 2), midway to San Cristobal from Santo Domingo, 6:49 a.m.

  The three vehicle procession cruised along the deserted road at a leisurely pace, already halfway through the fifty minute drive from the naval base in Santo Domingo to the Escuela penitentiary in San Cristobal.

  Aboard the lead vehicle, a Land Rover, were two sargentos, the first line of defence should any trouble arise. A teniente, or lieutenant, who headed the early morning mission, rode shotgun in the second Land Rover while an enlisted marinero did the driving. Within the caged back seat were Pedro Gomez and Hector Acero, the reasons for the trek. Tagging along behind, literally, was an Audi A5 with Mateo Tejera, Gomez’s attorney, at the wheel.

  It was thanks to, or rather, because of Tejera that the men found themselves out on the road this early in the morning. In response to the attorney’s insistence on being present to ensure his clients’ rights were being respected, Admiral Quesada had arranged for the transfer to take place as early as possible. Rousing Gomez and Acero shortly after four in the morning to ‘get ready’ had been an added bonus.

  With sunrise still almost twenty minutes away, the lead Rover pulled out of a curve one mile east of the town of Hatillo and its driver immediately went for the brakes. Two hundred yards ahead, a box truck, its hazard lights flashing, was stopped diagonally across the road, completely obstructing their lane. On the opposite side, a small, four-door sedan with its headlights still on rested on its roof, blocking the rest of the road. One man, likely the truck driver, appeared to be tending to two others who were sprawled on the pavement, their backs leaning against the car.

  Pulling to a stop ten yards from the accident scene, the driver of the lead vehicle grabbed the radio transceiver.

  “Call for assistance,” he said. “We’ll go see how bad the situation is.”

  Their lieutenant acknowledged and the two sergeants climbed out of the SUV and hurried over to the men by the overturned car.

  “How badly are they hurt?” asked the driver, seconds before he and his colleague realized it was an ambush.

  The truck driver leaped out of the way while the ‘injured’ men raised their guns and fired two shots each, instantly killing the two soldiers. Simultaneously, another man, who had been hiding amongst the trees to the side of the road, opened fire with an automatic rifle at the passenger window of the second land Rover, permanently eliminating the lieutenant and his driver.

  Hurrying around the SUV, he yanked the driver’s door open and unlocked the rear doors to release the prisoners. As Gomez and Hector climbed out, the truck driver ran up carrying a large bolt cutter, quickly snipping the chains off their handcuffs.

  “We’ll get the cuffs off your wrists soon enough,” he said. “I didn’t want to waste time searching them for keys.”

  “Good thinking,” Gomez approved before turning toward his slowly approaching attorney. “Excellent work, Mateo. You planned this to perfection.”

  “I-I didn’t know y-you were going to kill them,” the attorney stammered.

  “What did you think we would do?” Gomez snorted. “Ask them to close their eyes and count to one hundred?”

  “Well, uh, no,” Tejera replied, forcing a laugh. “I guess you had no choice.”

  Gomez shrugged. “In this kind of situation, sometimes you have no choice. Live witnesses can easily cause trouble, which brings us to you.”

  “M-me?” Mateo managed to utter. “W-what do you mean?”

  “The admiral, the police, they will all know you were involved in planning my escape,” Gomez explained. “Who else would know the details down to the time of transfer? I needed you as a lawyer but now you will end up in jail yourself.”

  “B-but you gave me no choice,” Mateo cried.

  Gomez smiled and replied, “You see? Sometimes we have no choice. Luckily, I have a solution to our problem.”

  “W-what is it?” Mateo dared to ask.

  Gomez turned and went to the open door of the SUV, returning seconds later with the dead soldier’s sidearm. Raising the gun, he said, “Eliminate the witnesses,” and pulled the trigger. As his attorney crumpled to the pavement, Gomez strode off toward the box truck and said, “We have work to do. Let’s get out of here.”

  * * * *

  Lomas residence, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 9:07 a.m.

  Knowing Isabella would be in bed well before the dinner party ended, Oliver and Valeria had planned beforehand to spend the night at their resort suite. The ‘early to bed and early to rise’ concept was one which their daughter fully endorsed so the Lomas family had been up and having breakfast shortly before seven.

  His presence having been somewhat scarce of late because of his injuries, Oliver had decided to remain at the resort for at least part of the day in order to catch up with some of his paperwork and do a bit of socializing with the guests, one of his favourite tasks. Valeria had therefore packed up their three year old bundle of energy and headed for home after obtaining a promise from her husband that he wouldn’t overdo it.

  With little traffic on the roads on a Saturday morning, the drive went well, time seeming to pass even more quickly thanks to Isabella’s non-stop chatter and within fifteen minutes from leaving the resort, Valeria was parking her car in the driveway. Cutting the engine, she climbed out and opened the rear door to free Isabella from her safety seat and gather the bag of necessities which always accompanied her daughter.

  With the bag slung on her shoulder and Isabella in one arm and propped on her hip, Valeria swung the door shut, circled around the back of the car and strolled up the walkway to the house. As she reached the front entrance, fumbling with her key chain for the right key, she heard a sudden rustling in the bushes behind her to her right. However, before she could turn around to identify the cause, an arm wrapped tightly around her and Isabella from the left while a hand slapped onto her face from the right, firmly clamped over her mouth to keep her quiet.

  “Prisa!” the man hissed, obviously urging someone else as she struggled to free herself. “I can’t hold her forever.”

  Determined not to surrender without a fight, Valeria raised her right foot and stomped back, slamming her heel down onto her assailant’s toes.

  “Puta,” the man muttered in anger, rewarding her efforts with a solid knee to the back of her thigh just as she twisted out of his grip.

  Losing her balance from the blow, she went down on one knee as she desperately clung to her now wailing child. From behind, her attacker pushed her roughly to the paving stone floor, before straddling her and Isabella and clamping his hand over her mouth again. Valeria’s panic increased as she became aware of a second man kneeling beside her, gripping her arm with one hand and jabbing her with a loaded syringe with the other. As she felt herself drifting into unconsciousness, she vaguely heard a screeching of tires and saw a black minivan swerving into the driveway. Isabella shrieked in her arms and then there was nothing.

  * * * *

  “Lomas was not home,” said the man once his called connected, “But we have his wife and daughter. We’ll go find him once we drop these two off somewhere safe.”

  “I have a better idea,” Gomez replied. “Forget about him. Bring me his wife and child and he will come to me. I will enjoy sending the man on the trip of a lifetime.”

  “If that is what you wish,” said the kidnapper, “But I will expect you to pay me for the full job.”

  “Of course,” Gomez snapped. “Just bring me his family and I will pay you what we agreed.”

  “Gracias,” said the kidnapper. “Where are we taking them?”

  “Los Melones,” said Gomez.

  “Los Melones?” the kidnapper repeated in surprise. “That is almost five hours from here.”

  “I am pleased you know your geography,” Gomez replied with intended sarcasm. “It will reduce yo
ur chances of getting lost on your way here.”

  * * * *

  Ventura Grande Resort, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 9:32 a.m.

  “There was nothing wrong with that breakfast,” said Dave as he pushed his plate aside.

  “Says the man who sampled everything in the buffet,” Leslie teased.

  “What?” Dave retorted as the others laughed. “It’s all you can eat so I ate all I could.”

  “And now we best go for a long walk on the beach,” Cathy commented as she patted her husband’s stomach, “Because you need to burn some of that off, baby.”

  “I do indeed,” Dave agreed. “I have to make room for a cheeseburger at the beach bar for lunch.”

  Their chat was interrupted as Chris mobile vibrated. “Ortega,” he announced before leaving the table to take the call.

  He returned a few minutes later, his expression grim as he sat back down.

  “Bad news, folks,” he said. “Gomez and his sidekick escaped during their transfer to the penitentiary this morning.”

  “Aw, Jesus,” Jonathan muttered. “Any details on what happened?”

  Chris nodded. “Yes, and none of it’s pretty. This was organized with outside help. An ambush during the drive. Faked accident to block the road. The four soldiers overseeing transport were shot dead; so was Gomez’s lawyer who was tagging along.”

  “That’s just terrible,” said Josée, expressing the shock and disgust shared by all at the table.

  “There’s more,” Chris continued. “Admiral Quesada told Ortega he made an inadvertent comment to Gomez which pointed at Oliver as the reason for Gomez’s recent problems.”

  “The idiot,” Sandy exclaimed. “So now Oliver could be in danger again?”

  “We’ll make sure he isn’t,” said Chris. “As for the Admiral, he was careless and blurted something out in a moment of rage, something he openly admits and regrets.”