Sins in the Sun: A Vigilante Series crime thriller

by Claude Bouchard

  “Very well,” said Gomez. “I will be expecting your call in ninety minutes.”

  He ended the call and turned off the phone before slipping it back into his pocket as a thought began to form. The purpose of the exhaustive travel itinerary he had put together for Lomas was to ensure the man would not be followed to his final destination, here on Isla Saona. However, after having spoken to now three of the men hired to escort Lomas from one place to the next, it was becoming clear that seeing the itinerary to its end would be overkill. No tails had been detected and there were no indications of any use of electronic surveillance.

  Hector’s earlier comment about wasting time waiting definitely had merit but abandoning revenge against Lomas was not the only time-saving solution. Quickly calculating, Gomez determined he could have Oliver standing in front of him by late afternoon if he eliminated the remainder of the planned travel schedule.

  Yes, he would contact the man responsible for the next leg of the trip from Santiago to Monte Cristi and have him head south and east instead to Los Melones. He would have Felipe waiting for Oliver’s final boat ride and he and Hector could easily be slipping away from the country come nightfall.

  He mulled over his new plan for a few minutes but could find no disadvantage or flaw. He would run it by Hector as he respected the man’s opinion but, in his mind, the decision was already made.

  “Hector,” he called out, seeing the large Dominican beyond the tents watching the mother and child playing with a ball. “Have one of the men babysit while you and I go for a walk. That is what I am paying them for.”

  Hector nodded and waved one of the hired men over then crossed the clearing to join Gomez.

  “What is it?” Hector asked as they moved away from the campsite.

  “I have given some thought to your comments about our wasting time waiting for Lomas,” said Gomez, “And I must admit you made some valid points.”

  Hector nodded and said, “I understand your anger with the man but is revenge worth increasing the risks of getting caught by the authorities again?”

  “That is the beauty of my revised plan,” Gomez replied. “What is that expression about having your cake and eating it too? Well, I will have my revenge all while saving hours of valuable time.”

  “How is that?” Hector questioned. “What is your revised plan?”

  “It is already clear that Oliver is not being followed,” Gomez explained, “So I will cancel the rest of his travels and have him brought here directly which means he will arrive by late afternoon instead of tomorrow. I will get my revenge and we will leave the Dominican one day sooner than planned.”

  “It is a definite improvement,” Hector agreed, “Although we could be out of the country several hours sooner if we simply abandoned the mother and child here and left Lomas to try to find them on his own.”

  Gomez stopped walking and gazed at Hector. “We could do that, but I would not have the satisfaction of seeing Lomas beg for his life and theirs as they died. Do you wish to deny me that satisfaction, Hector?”

  “I do not wish to deny you anything,” Hector replied, looking Gomez in the eye, “Including your freedom. However, in the end, it will be as it has always been. You will make your decision and I shall act accordingly.”

  Gomez smile and said, “That is why I have always trusted you. Now, I have some calls to make as there is a change in plans.”

  * * * *

  Ventura Grande Resort, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 8:36 a.m.

  “Damn it, are they heading back here?” Jonathan muttered as he stared at the screen. “Oliver is now on Autopista Duarte near La Vega heading north.”

  “That is barely two hours from here,” said Ortega, momentarily ceasing his incessant pacing. “I think I will get in the car and go find him. I’m not being very useful otherwise.”

  “I certainly would like to have someone closer to Oliver,” Chris agreed. “The earpieces are working great but they won’t help him if things get nasty.”

  “I will go with you, Miguel,” offered Quesada.

  “Bring me your laptop, Admiral,” said Jonathan. “I’ll set up the tracking for you.”

  “Perhaps this is the miracle you mentioned, Chris,” Ortega commented, watching the small red dot move slowly north on the screen.

  Chris shrugged and replied, “It might be but I’m still hoping for something a hell of a lot bigger.”

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 8:54 a.m.

  Gomez stepped out of his tent and motioned Hector over from where he stood across the clearing.

  “All is set,” Gomez murmured when his assistant joined him. “Lomas will be driven from Santiago to Los Melones where Felipe will be waiting to take him here.”

  “When will he be leaving Santiago?” asked Hector.

  “As soon as he arrives,” Gomez replied, “Which should be in about half an hour.”

  “So he will be here this afternoon as you hoped,” said Hector. “Will we be leaving here tonight? Is there anything you need me to look after?”

  “Yes, we will leave tonight,” Gomez confirmed. “Felipe will return for us two hours after delivering Lomas and will take us to a yacht I have arranged. It will bring us to Turks and Caicos where we can lie low and plan our next steps.”

  Hector nodded and smiled. “Good work, boss. I’ll look forward to relaxing a bit after the last couple of days.”

  “So will I,” Gomez agreed, pulling a phone from his pocket and handing it to Hector. “In fact, I have barely slept since waking on that stupid boat Friday morning so now that everything is settled, I intend to get some sleep while we wait. Leonel will be calling at nine-thirty when he arrives in Santiago with Lomas. Another call is scheduled for one fifteen, approximately when Lomas will arrive in Los Melones and Felipe will call shortly after to confirm his expected arrival. Wake me only if there is anything important. Otherwise, I do not want to be disturbed.”

  He ducked back into his tent while Hector sauntered over to a camp chair, settling in to absently watch Isabella play while he sorted the thoughts rushing through his mind. A few minutes later, Gomez began to snore softly and Hector left his seat to go to his own tent. Coming back out a minute later with a roll of toilet paper, he informed one of the hired men he was going for a ‘nature’ walk and disappeared amidst the foliage.

  * * * *

  Ventura Grande Resort, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 9:17 a.m.

  “Hola, Miguel,” Chris answered his mobile. “You can’t have found them already? – What? Let me check.”

  He rushed to his iPad on the dining room table as Jonathan curiously looked on.

  “Yes, I see it too,” he said into the phone, clearly excited. “Thanks for calling and keep me posted on your progress with Oliver. I’ll let you know what we’re doing.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Jonathan as Chris ended the call.

  “Miguel got a call from Valeria’s mobile carrier,” Chris replied as he hurried over and handed Jonathan the iPad. “This may be the miracle we were hoping for.”

  “Holy shit,” Jonathan exclaimed as he stared at the tablet.

  “Yep,” Chris replied. “Looks like someone turned on the GPS on Val’s phone. We’ve got some planning to do.”

  * * * *

  Santiago De Los Caballeros, Dominican Republic, 9:30 a.m.

  “Hola,” said Hector, answering the call.

  “Ah, el jefe is making you work for once,” Leonel teased.

  Hector laughed. “Since he succeeded in getting a lazy Haitian to work, I thought it was only fair I work as well while the boss is sleeping. All is under control?”

  “Si, no problems at all,” Leonel confirmed, glancing at the now awake Oliver in the rear-view mirror, “And we are less than ten minutes from our destination.”

  “Excelente,” Hector replied. “Hasta luego.”

  * * * *

  Santiago De Los Caballeros, Dominican Republic, 9:39 a.m.
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  “…a white Isuzu Rodeo pulled up before the Monumento and Oliver got in,” said Ortega. “Both cars have left now and Oliver seems to be heading back to the autopista. We will give them a few minutes before we follow.”

  “I’m happy you found him,” Chris replied. “I don’t know if he’s in any danger with these travelling companions but I feel better knowing help is close by.”

  “We will do our best not to lose him,” Ortega promised. “What are your plans now?”

  “Valeria’s phone is still signalling from Isla Saona so we’re going to check it out,” said Chris. “Jon is getting flight plans set up and we hope to be in La Romana by early afternoon. Can the admiral hear me?”

  “I am here, Chris” Quesada confirmed.

  “Can you have a boat for us when we get there?” Chris asked.

  “When you know what time you will be landing, call me,” Quesada replied. “I will have transportation waiting at the airport and a boat at your disposal.”

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 10:27 a.m.

  With Gomez as well as two of the guards sleeping while the other two smoked and quietly chatted across the clearing away from the tents, Hector sauntered over to where Valeria sat on the ground watching her daughter draw in the dirt with a twig.

  “Listen carefully,” he murmured as he casually scanned the area in the distance. “Nod if you can hear me.”

  Valeria nodded and he went on.

  “I have a plan. It is not much but it is the best I can do and should be enough to get you and your daughter somewhere safer.”

  “I’m listening,” Valeria breathed. “And thank you.”

  Hector stretched and turned to glance at the two guards, both of whom now had their backs to him as they puffed on their cigarettes.

  “This is what we shall do…”

  * * * *

  Gregorio Luperón International Airport, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 10:55 a.m.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” said Jonathan as he and Chris boarded the Gulfstream. “Thanks for getting the plane prepped so quickly.”

  “I don’t know what you told them when you called to book a flight time,” replied Lucas Rega, “But they were practically falling over themselves making sure we were fueled and ready to go.”

  “Miguel Ortega made a call for us,” Jonathan replied with a smile. “It seems the deputy director is well respected in this country.”

  “Well, strap yourselves in, gentlemen,” said Lucas as Bernie Avery gave him a thumbs-up after raising the airstairs. “We’re cleared for take-off.”

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 11:31 a.m.

  Valeria sensed rather than saw Hector looking toward her and raised her eyes, catching his imperceptible nod. She waited a moment then raised a hand, waving it to get his attention.

  “Uh, excuse me,” she called out.

  “What is it?” Hector asked as he approached.

  “My daughter should have a nap,” Valeria said, “And I could use one too. It’s not like the last day or two have been very relaxing for us.”

  Hector shrugged and said, “As you wish. I can use a break from watching you. I will have to lock you up, of course.”

  “Yes, like animals in your stupid cage,” Valeria hissed. “I don’t care. We are tired.”

  “Then stop your complaining and get in the tent,” Hector snapped back.

  Glaring at him, Valeria rose to her feet then picked up her daughter, hugging her tightly as she carried her into the tent while Hector followed close behind.

  Once inside, Valeria brought her lips close to Isabella’s ear and whispered, “Now we have to be very quiet until we are far away, like I told you before, okay?”

  In response, Isabella gazed solemnly at her mother and raised her finger to her lips as she uttered, “Sshhh.”

  “Good girl,” whispered Valeria before turning to Hector.

  “Wait here until my signal,” Hector murmured. “When it is time, go out the flap behind the cage and go in a straight line away from the tent. You will be going southwest. Be careful to stay in that direction and you will reach the shore.”

  “How far is it?” asked Valeria.

  “Not very far,” Hector replied. “The island is only three miles wide and we are roughly in the middle near the eastern tip. Be very quiet as you leave but go as fast as possible. Once you are farther, you can slow down and rest when you must.”

  Valeria nodded and looked into his eyes. “Thank you, Hector. You are a good man.”

  He shook his head and replied, “No, I am not but I do have my limits. Be safe.”

  He reached out and clanged the cage door shut then left the tent muttering, “Pleasant dreams, perra,” in a loud voice.

  Once outside, he heading directly to the two guards who were now seated on a large rock sharing a joint.

  “Hola, Hector,” one said as he held out the joint. “Problems with the bitch?”

  “Shut up,” Hector replied, taking the smoking joint and crushing it in his hand. “When was the last time you went for a walk around?”

  “Uh, I don’t know,” the young man mumbled, his eyes fixed on the smoke seeping from between the big Dominican’s clenched fingers.

  Flinging the crushed joint and embers at the man, Hector said, “Get off your skinny asses and go check the beach, at least one hundred yards in either direction, you lazy bastards.”

  He watched as the two men trudged off, knowing full well but not caring they would be firing up as soon as they were out of sight. He waited a moment once they had disappeared amidst the trees then sauntered back to the tents. Gomez’s snoring could still be heard and the flap to the guards’ tent hung slightly open, making it easy to confirm both men inside were sound asleep.

  Strolling over to the prisoners’ tent, he stopped in front of it and said, “It’s nice and quiet here now. Maybe I should take a nap as well.”

  He heard the slightest rustling behind him but ignored it, maintaining his gaze on the campsite before him. A minute or so later, after ensuring he remained alone, he casually turned around, looked toward the southwest and smiled. For a fraction of a second, he glimpsed the bright pink of Isabella’s sunhat as it moved through the foliage, and then it was gone.

  * * * *

  María Montez International Airport, Barahona, Dominican Republic, 11:39 a.m.

  “They should have let us wait at the end of the runway,” said Leslie as she and Dave watched the G280 approaching on the taxiway. “We could have hopped on there, turned around and taken off again.”

  “Yeah, damned sticklers with their security,” Dave agreed with a smile.

  The plane reached the apron and, directed by a marshaller, it headed toward the left for a moment before veering to the right, approaching the terminal on a circular path. As it reached a parallel position with the terminal, directly in front of the door where Leslie and Dave waited, the marshaller directed it to stop then turned and approached the terminal while gesturing.

  “We will go now,” said the airport employee who waited with Leslie and Dave. “Put the earmuffs on.”

  Donning earmuffs of his own, the man opened the door and briskly led the way to the lowering airstairs of the waiting jet. As soon as Leslie and Dave had boarded, Avery, the co-pilot, returned the borrowed earmuffs to the waiting man and the airstairs began to rise. A moment later, the marshaller signalled the jet to its right, back to the taxiway, before returning to the terminal, having likely just performed the quickest consecutive arrival and departure of a same plane of his career.

  * * * *

  Casa de Campo Marina, La Romana, Dominican Republic. 12:28 p.m.

  True to his word, Admiral Quesada had a vehicle and driver waiting for Chris and his team when they landed at La Romana International Airport and they were taken without delay to Casa de Campo Marina, the same marina where the Lady Delilah had left them the previous Friday morning.

  There
, a thirty-two foot Defender Class Boston Whaler speedboat awaited them, manned by two lieutenants, both members of the Naval Commandos, the Special Operations component of the Dominican Navy. Their exact landing point on Isla Saona was determined, a spot on the southern side toward the eastern end of the island, roughly thirty miles or forty-five minutes away at full throttle and they were ready to go.

  As they left the marina, camouflage fatigues which Quesada had offered were handed out to Chris and the others along with assurances that both officers would be available for whatever assistance might be needed during the search and surveillance mission ahead.

  * * * *

  Los Melones, Dominican Republic, 1:09 p.m.

  Terrified, enraged and understandably anxious, Oliver was now also filled with excited anticipation due to his location. After all, Gomez’s initial call via Valeria’s mobile had originated from this area and Oliver firmly believed, or hoped, his travels were approaching their end and he would soon see his wife and daughter. A pang of fear engulfed him as he considered the loves of his life might be suffering, or worse, but he forced the thought aside, willing himself to maintain his sanity.

  They had gone through the town of Los Melones and were now driving along the coast, heading due south, possibly on their way to Playa Dominicus though the coastal road certainly wasn’t the best alternative, its condition leaving to be desired a little further on. They came upon a baseball field, an informal game with local kids going on, the Caribbean shimmering beyond and a moment later, Oliver’s nameless driver turned off the road, bringing the Isuzu down a moderate incline to the sandy beach below.

  Besides a couple of Jeeps and corresponding families of tourists at the far end of the small beach, the place was deserted. A catamaran was anchored a couple of hundred feet from shore, a small skiff attached to it bobbing in the gentle waves.