Sins in the Sun: A Vigilante Series crime thriller

by Claude Bouchard

  “This is your stop,” said the driver, cutting the engine before getting out of the SUV.

  “Where am I going now?” asked Oliver, climbing out as well, happy for the opportunity to stretch his legs.

  “I don’t know,” the driver replied, pointing to the boats, “But they’re taking you to wherever it is.”

  Looking out across the water, Oliver noticed two men aboard the catamaran, one of whom was climbing into the skiff. Seconds later, the sound of its outboard could be heard and the small boat pulled away and headed toward the beach. With a sigh, Oliver walked to the water’s edge to begin the next leg of his trip.

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 1:12 p.m.

  “You are certain you don’t want any other weapons?” the commando asked as the boat made its final approach to shore. “The admiral has authorized us to supply you with anything we have you might need.”

  “We’re fine with what we have,” Chris replied, patting the holstered sidearm obtained from an inventory kept on the Gulfstream. “Anyhow, we’re hoping we won’t have to use any firearms. For now, our main purpose is to see who, if anyone, is out here, how they’re set up and so on.”

  The commando nodded. “We will be here if you need us and other boats are in the area as well.”

  Another moment passed and they felt the boat touch the sandy bottom as they reached the beach. Familiar with the area, the commandos had assured their passengers they would get them on the island without getting their feet wet.

  “We’re still getting the signal,” said Chris, looking at the screen of his mobile.

  “A little over two miles that way,” the second commando confirmed, pointing northeast as he studied a screen set in the console. “We will be tracking your positions as well. Good luck.”

  Chris nodded and without another word, hopped out of the bow onto the beach to join his team.

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 1:17 p.m.

  “Hola,” Hector answered the mobile, expecting the call.

  “I am on my way,” said Felipe.

  “Call back at four o’clock,” said Hector. “You should be almost here by then.”

  “I suggest three o’clock,” Felipe replied. “I am not running in the dark this time which will save me an hour, maybe more.”

  “We will expect your call at three,” Hector confirmed before ending the call and turning off the phone.

  The campsite remained quiet save for the sounds of nature, giving Hector time to think. Gomez remained asleep, which suited Hector fine in the current situation. The hired guards had changed shifts shortly after noon and the two going off duty had immediately gone to bed while the two others, including their leader, were out patrolling the sector.

  Oliver was now on Hector’s mind and knowing the man would be arriving in a couple of hours bothered him. Although no stranger to violence, even extreme at times, Hector questioned the necessity of bringing on suffering, and likely death, to Oliver, an innocent man who had done nothing wrong. Obviously, having met Valeria and Isabella had much to do with his current way of thinking although he did not consider it bias; it was much more so a question of having seen the light in some manner.

  The situation was confusing him and his own lack of sleep in recent days surely wasn’t helping his conflicting thoughts. He was simply becoming more aware by the minute that he needed to do something to save Oliver so the man could return to his family. Ideally, he needed to find a way to diffuse the situation without alerting Gomez he was a traitor. However, he still had a couple of hours. He would think of something.

  * * * *

  Los Melones, Dominican Republic, 1:21 p.m.

  “Almirante,” said the lieutenant commander, saluting as Quesada and Ortega stepped onto the temporarily commandeered dock.

  “Hola, Adolfo,” replied Quesada before glancing at the other officer, a lieutenant. “Hola, Emberto. This is Deputy Director Miguel Ortega.”

  Following more exchanged salutes, the four men boarded the boat, a craft identical to the one Quesada had assigned to Chris and his team.

  “Where are we going, sir?” Adolfo asked as he started the engines.

  Quesada held up his laptop and showed the officer the screen. “We’re following that dot but from a distance for now. As needed, we may want to get closer.”

  “Let me hook that up, Almirante,” offered Emberto, relieving Quesada of the laptop.

  “Gracias,” Quesada accepted in his usual gruff manner, well recognized by trusted men such as these two officers, also Commandos.

  “Almirante,” called Adolfo over the roar of the engines as they backed away from the stone dock. “I received a message from Castor a few minutes ago. They’ve delivered their party and are waiting.”

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 1:32 p.m.

  Unaware of what they might find ahead, including the number of men Gomez might have with him if he was indeed hiding on the island, Chris and the others were moving cautiously forward through the dense tropical forest. They maintained some fifteen yards across from one person to the next and advanced two at a time in a first-third, second-fourth formation while the other two provided cover.

  “Guys, I just heard something,” Leslie murmured into her headset from her forward, number three position.

  “Where?” asked Chris, thirty yards to her left. “What was it?”

  “Straight ahead of me,” Leslie replied, crouching behind a large palm tree. “Distant, a short squeal. Maybe a small animal. Nothing now.”

  “Moving forward here,” said Jonathan from behind to her right.

  “Same here,” Dave announced in the second spot.

  Slowly, both men crept forward in tandem, keeping under cover as they scanned the foliage ahead. Reaching Chris and Leslie’s line position, they continued passed them, inching forward as they concentrated their surveillance in the area ahead of Leslie.

  “Stop,” Jonathan whispered. “I just saw something move, twenty yards ahead, bright pink.”

  “I see it too,” Dave announced. “Pink, bobbing up and down. Wait. Listen.”

  From ahead, and getting closer, came a faint, babbling sound, not yet distinguishable though strangely familiar.

  “Holy crap,” Leslie suddenly uttered, having caught a clear, one second glimpse of the approaching mystery through the trees. “It’s Val and Isabella.”

  “Are you sure?” Chris asked, seeing nothing from his more distant position.

  “It’s them,” Jonathan confirmed, seeing the mother and child as the moved through a small clearing ten yards away.

  Pulling her cap off and letting her flaming red hair fall for added recognition, Leslie stepped out from where she hid, Valeria and Isabella now quite visible fifteen feet before her.

  “Valeria,” she called, moving toward the two.

  Surprised, Valeria froze, looking about for the source of the sound.

  “Oh my God,” she cried upon seeing Leslie, breaking into a huge smile as tears of relief streamed down her cheeks.

  “You’re safe now,” Leslie promised, hugging the woman and her daughter as the others joined them.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Valeria sobbed.

  “The GPS signal from your phone got us here,” Chris explained. “Did the idiots actually let you have your phone?”

  “No,” Valeria replied, looking confused then shocked. “It is Hector. It has to be but he didn’t tell me.”

  “What is Hector?” asked Leslie. “What didn’t he tell you?”

  “It is Hector who turned on my phone so you could find us,” Valeria replied. “He helped us escape without the others noticing. He must have turned on my phone too.”

  “Good for Hector,” said Chris. “So, they don’t know you’re gone?”

  “We pretended to go to sleep in our tent,” Valeria explained. “Gomez was sleeping as were two of the guards. Hector sent the other two on a pat
rol then had us leave.”

  “How many people are there?” asked Chris.

  “Six,” said Valeria. “Gomez, Hector and four young men.”

  “And the camp is that way?” enquired Jonathan, pointing.

  “Yes,” Valeria confirmed, glancing at her watch. “It is not very far. We have been gone two hours but it is slow carrying this one and we stopped to rest several times.”

  “What’s the campsite like?” asked Chris.

  “There is a good sized clearing with four tents,” said Valeria. “Let me show you.”

  Setting her daughter to the ground, she crouched down beside her and cleared a spot in the dirt then quickly drew the position of the tents with her finger, explaining which was occupied by whom.

  “Excellent, Val,” said Chris, hugging her once she was finished. “I’m happy we found you.”

  “It is thanks to Hector,” she replied, her eyes glistening.

  “We’ll keep that in mind,” Chris promised. “Now, I want to get you and Isabella out of here to make sure you’re safe.”

  “I’ll take them back to the boat,” Dave offered.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Chris replied. “I’ll bring Ortega and Quesada up to speed and we’ll determine what’s next.”

  * * * *

  Aboard the Polaris, Caribbean Sea, northwest of Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 1:45 p.m.

  “That is excellent news,” Ortega exclaimed. “They were not harmed?”

  “No, they’re fine though obviously shaken, especially Valeria,” Chris replied. “Dave is taking them back to the boat and the three of us are going ahead to scope out Gomez’s camp.”

  “I will discuss this with Ramon,” Ortega replied, “But I wish to be involved with dealing with Gomez.”

  “I don’t blame you,” said Chris. “We’re not there yet and our first step will be reconnaissance once we get close enough so you have time to let me know what you’re planning. Now that we have the girls, we can pull Oliver out of the equation.”

  “Of course,” Ortega agreed. “I will speak to Ramon and call you back.”

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 1:57 p.m.

  Pedro Gomez pushed aside the tent flap, stepped out and stretched, feeling refreshed following almost five hours of solid sleep. Though almost two o’clock, the temperature remained comfortable thanks to the shade provided by the multitude of mature palm trees surrounding the clearing as well as a slight breeze which managed to creep in from the shore.

  The camp was quiet and he looked around to find Hector seated on a camping chair by his tent, seemingly lost in his thoughts, gazing at nothing in particular.

  “Hola, Hector,” called Gomez as he sauntered over.

  “Hola, Pedro,” Hector replied. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes and it did me good,” said Gomez, glancing around. “Where are your girlfriends?”

  Hector smiled and said, “They have been sleeping for a couple of hours.”

  Gomez nodded in approval. “As long as they sleep I do not have to hear that child and her yapping. And the men?”

  “The two lazier ones are sleeping as well,” Hector explained. “The other two have been doing regular patrols since they got up.”

  “And what is the word about my friend, Oliver?” asked Gomez.

  “He is on his way,” Hector replied. “Felipe will be calling at three o’clock and they should arrive soon after.”

  “Excelente,” said Gomez. “All is lining up perfectly. Thank you for looking after things while I rested. Perhaps you should take a nap yourself.”

  “I’m fine for now,” said Hector. “I will sleep once this is all over.”

  * * * *

  In the channel north of Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 2:01 p.m.

  “There is a vessel approaching quickly,” Juan, Felipe’s first mate, announced with concern.

  Felipe turned and saw the boat coming at a rather quick pace considering the shallowness of the channel and the large number of rocky outcrops beneath the surface. Though they had been keeping an eye on the radar to detect anyone following, it was a much more difficult exercise during the day with the large number of boats out and about in the area.

  “Can you identify it?” asked Felipe, keeping his calm.

  Using binoculars, his first mate studied the incoming boat for a moment and muttered, “Coast Guard.”

  “Hostia,” Felipe cursed, turning down the throttle to idle.

  “What are we going to do?” Juan asked, his panic rising.

  “We will see what they want,” Felipe replied. “It may simply be a routine inspection. We are doing nothing wrong.”

  “What about him?” said Juan, gesturing to Oliver who sat silently by.

  “He is a customer on a cruise,” said Felipe. “For the sake of your family, is that understood, Señor Lomas?”

  Oliver looked up at him and nodded then turned toward the Coast Guard boat, which had also slowed and was gliding up alongside the catamaran – and almost fainted. In addition to the two navy men in fatigues, Admiral Quesada and Deputy Director Ortega, both in casual civilian attire, stood on the boat.

  “Turn off your engine,” one of the navy men ordered while the other tossed a couple of lines out, clearly indicating the boats be moored together.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Felipe called out, complying with the order while gesturing Juan to tend to the lines.

  “I am Almirante Quesada,” one of the civvies replied. “We will be boarding your ship.”

  “You are welcome to do so,” Felipe replied, sensing something was quite wrong but unable to do anything about it.

  Preceded by one of his men, Quesada transferred to the catamaran and took a seat by Oliver before looking up at Felipe and Juan.

  “Gentlemen, I invite you to come sit with us and to pay close attention to what I have to say.”

  The two men exchanged glances then moved to the bench seat facing Quesada and Oliver.

  “Very well,” said Quesada before turning to Oliver. “I have excellent news. Valeria and Isabella are safe and on one of my boats as we speak. We know Pedro Gomez’s location on the island and the latest information we have indicates he is unaware his hostages have disappeared. We are going in to get him, hopefully by surprise, but we will get him. You are no longer in any danger and your tragic adventure is over.”

  Oliver shook his head in disbelief and said, “My wife and daughter are safe?”

  Quesada nodded and said, “We received confirmation from your friend, Chris, himself.”

  “And you are now going to get Gomez?” Oliver asked.

  “I have men waiting for us at the end of the channel,” Quesada replied, “And I understand Chris and his team are taking position by Gomez’s camp as we speak.”

  “I am going with you,” said Oliver.

  “There is no need for you to put yourself in danger,” said Quesada. “It is over and Gomez is finished.”

  Oliver shook his head. “There is no reason for you to be there either, Almirante, yet, you are going. I am going as well. I’m am not afraid of this animal and wish to look him in the eye.”

  Quesada remained silent for a moment then nodded before turning to Felipe. “We will have to discuss your implication in this matter later but, for now, you should consider cooperating with me. It would certainly be to your advantage to share any useful information.”

  Felipe shrugged and said, “We are on a schedule. We had better get moving or Gomez will become concerned.”

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 2:37 p.m.

  “The guards ended their walkabout near the beach directly east of the campsite,” Jonathan breathed into his mike as he watched the two young Dominicans from thirty yards away. “Now they’re taking a doobie break.”

  “You’ve got to love good help,” Chris murmured, gazing at Gomez and Hector from afar where they sat in camp chairs, chatting and sipping from cups regul
arly replenished from a rum bottle at their feet. “All clear if you’re good to go, Leslie.”

  “I won’t be a minute,” Leslie whispered.

  In a quiet, crouched run, she covered the five yards to the guards’ tent in seconds and slipped in through the rear flap which she had unsecured minutes earlier when checking to ensure the two men inside were still asleep. Both lay on foam camping mattresses, one on his side, facing away from her, the other, flat on his back.

  She leaned over the one laying on his back and, as she approached with her first of two auto-injectors, he opened his eyes and stiffened at the sight of her.

  “Wha—” is all he managed to utter before she punched him in the throat, turning his subsequent words into gasping gurgles. As his hands clutched his neck in reflex, she stabbed him in the arm with the syringe and half her job was done. Turning to the other, who hadn’t budged an inch, she quickly jabbed him in the butt, completing her assigned task.

  Back out of the tent, she crept back into the wilderness, going in some twenty yards before reporting in to the others.

  “Two sleeping guards, gents,” she announced, “One who may have a sore throat when he wakes up.”

  “That was quick,” Chris commented.

  “I’m good,” Leslie replied.

  * * * *

  Isla Saona, Dominican Republic, 2:53 p.m.

  “No problems to report?” asked Gomez as the two guards returned to the campsite.

  “Nothing or nobody anywhere,” replied Vasco.

  “At least you two are patrolling,” said Hector. “All your two buddies are good at is sitting around and smoking hierba.”

  “Uh, yeah,” said Vasco as he and his partner walked away. “I’ll talk to them.”

  “Little bastards,” growled Gomez, pouring himself another shot. “Good thing we’ll be done with them soon.” Glancing at his watch he added, “The lady and her kid are sleeping a long time. Did you check on them?”