by Chris Draper
He could hear Wagner typing frantically what he was saying on a keyboard. Byron added, “And remember if you so much as bring one cop or anyone at all we'll put your baby in the ground for good. And if I think you're being followed I'll slice her throat and let her die out in the open where the animals will tear her apart. I'm gonna have my men spread out all over the area to make sure you don't try anything.”
“I won't try anything.” Wagner said.
“Good. You're a smart man Wagner, I hope you keep it that way. We're not joking around. Read everything back to me so I know you got it.”
Wagner did so then asked, “I want to hear my daughter's voice, I want to know she's okay.”
Byron shoved the receiver in Dottie's face, told her to say hello. “Daddy, I'm okay! I'm so tired though, it's been so horrible you can't even imagine...”
Byron put the phone back to his mouth and spoke coldly to Wagner.
“So now you know she's okay, don't forget your part of the deal. 2 million on Wednesday morning at the old air field. Come alone and have the cash in a bag.”
Wagner asked, “Why are you doing this?”
“No questions. Bye for now.”
“Wait, how will I know you?”
“You'll know me.”
Wagner heard a click and then Byron was gone. He had started to sweat during the phonecall and dabbed his neck on a handkerchief from his pocket.
Back at the Syndicate base Byron addressed the entire group: “Okay so it's all set, we get the money on Wednesday. I want to go over our strategy tonight in case Wagner brings any uh, unwelcome guests.”
“Like police?” A Syndicate asked.
“Like anybody.” Byron said. “Which also reminds me, I want guards outside 24/7 watching this place. You never know if this guy could have hired someone to try and find his daughter.”
“They would never find us here.” Travis said.
“It's not impossible. We found it didn't we?” Byron said. “Just do it. If you see anyone outside I want you to shoot on sight and ask questions later. I don't care if it's the Queen of England."
The gang nodded and Byron knew he was understood. Now all there was to do was wait. Wait until Wednesday. Wait for Wagner to bring the cash. And wait for both Dottie and her father to die.
10
The morning Hawk had planned to leave with Clyde was pristine and clear with dozens of cumulus clouds floating lazily over the sky like a picture postcard. Hawk had a lot on his mind that morning.
The evening before Wagner had called to tell him about the exchange the kidnappers mentioned at the abandoned air field in the Everglades and he'd told Wagner not to worry about it, that he would find Dottie before then. He wondered if he should have said that though. Wagner had said that he would have been fine paying the ransom amount if it meant no harm would come to his daughter. He had also said that paying the amount would keep Hawk safe as well since he would no longer be required to locate the kidnappers, which in a way was a solid point.
But Hawk had learned from dealing with these types of criminals before that that was rarely how things went down. Usually something went wrong and more often than not the kidnappers got away with the money and the bounty. Plus the fact that the kidnappers had asked Wagner to come alone had been a warning sign. Wagner was a prominent businessman and even he knew that distancing himself from the media or his own bodyguards would prove difficult. There was always a chance that someone would follow him to the air field even against his wishes which could create problems with the kidnappers. Hawk had told him that he was confident he could find Dottie before then, and if not then they would work something else out and he would be the one to meet the kidnappers for the exchange.
And there was another part of Hawk that wanted to catch the bad guys for himself as well. Maybe it was that feeling again that he was somehow avenging his own daughter's death, avenging the deaths of thousands of daughters everywhere, in going after these goons but he couldn't be quite sure. All he knew was that now that he was this close to Dottie he had to push forward no matter what it meant.
But was he really so sure that he would find Dottie Wagner in the next few days before the exchange would take place? No, of course he couldn't be sure but the hunch he'd had about finding her somewhere in the Everglades had grown since he arrived in Aldwell. He could feel that she was out here somewhere – it was the same feeling he had before Tony Risotto shot up his car and the same feeling when he knew Risotto was hiding out somewhere in the Los Angeles hills from the authorities. Helen had always told him he had a 'sixth sense' for danger but Hawk never believed in that kind of stuff. He thought it was all a load of fiction fabricated by loonies and headshrinkers.
He'd told Wagner that he was heading into the wetlands and wouldn't be able to reach him for a few hours but that he would get in touch as soon as he could. He also called the Oxley Care Centre back in Oakland and asked to be put on the phone with Helen for a minute. Although Helen couldn't speak he had a feeling she could hear everything he said to her. He told her he loved her in her ear then told the caretaker Deborah to contact his brother in San Diego in case of an emergency until he got back. Then he'd started packing for the journey.
He had stuffed a large duffel bag with a small one person tent just in case they had to stop somewhere as well as several bottles of water, sandwiches, energy bars, bug repellant, Tylenol, a water resistant blanket and an wet suit that comprised of a yellow rain jacket with matching pants. A pair of rubber boots also dangled from the side of the duffel bag attached with a nylon string. In a separate case Hawk had packed his rifle with 20 rounds of ammunition just in case. He also wore his handgun in a concealed holster underneath his jacket and had his knife stuck firmly in an ankle holster.
It felt like he was going to war and for all he knew he might as well be. Who knew what kind of weapons the kidnappers had at their disposal. He'd decided to leave his wallet and ID behind in case things got hairy but had brought his cellphone in the event he was lucky enough to get any reception along the way.
Along the way to the docks Hawk had also stopped at a Wells Fargo bank to withdraw the rest of the money for Clyde. He'd also had the foresight to seal the money in a ziploc bag in case things got wet. He strode up to the docks at 7 AM and saw Clyde over on his airboat checking the propeller blades on the back. The area was empty of tourists this early and Clyde was the only one on the docks.
As he got closer Clyde saw him coming and waved him over. “Looks like you brought everything but the kitchen sink.” Clyde said with a laugh as Hawk stepped onto the craft.
“Yeah just about.” Hawk said. “I took your advice and grabbed a good bottle of the most expensive bug repellant I could find. If that doesn't keep the suckers away then I don't know what will.”
“That's good you got some, you're gonna need it come sundown. I also checked the weather and it's supposed to be clear until the afternoon when there might be a storm moving in.”
“A storm? Hard to believe with that clear sky up there.”
“That happens a lot here. One minute you're sunbathing and the next you're ducking for cover under the tarmac. You can't trust anything during the summer wet season. Soon as that Florida gulf air gets going you might as well hide under a rock until fall.”
“Hope we can make it to Big Cypress before it hits.”
“You let me worry about that.” Clyde said. “Did you bring the rest of the cash?”
Hawk handed him the ziploc envelope with the money. Clyde took it, nodded his approval, then stowed it away into small compartment near the driver's seat.
“That's good thinking.” Clyde said. “Probably explains why my wife always complains our money is wet.”
Hawk laughed. “When do you figure on leaving? If a storm's coming later we better set off soon. I want to cover as much ground today as we can.”
“I'm just gonna grab a spare canister with a bit more gas and then we should be good to head out.”
<
br /> A plaintive birdsong began from a mangrove nearby and Hawk looked over in the direction of the tree. The song began on a high swell before lowering an octave a few notes before finally finishing on a dissonant chord that punctured the stillness of the lake like an airhorn.
“That's the song of the Belted Kingfisher.” Clyde said poignantly. “It's been singing from that tree as long as I've been here. At first I wanted to shoot it down but I've grown to like it over the years.”
“It' a nice song.” Hawk said. “Reminds me of an old movie or something.”
Clyde stepped off the boat and disappeared into the backseat of a truck parked on the dock, then came back a minute later with a spare canister of gas. He sat down in the centre seat with Hawk sat beside him, then he cranked the ignition and the engine sputtered for a minute and the large fan at the back began whirling, blowing back air that sent tiny laps streaking through the water. Clyde controlled the steering with his right hand and for the first time Hawk noticed that he was missing part of his pinky finger. He thought about asking what had happened but decided it wasn't the right time and made a mental note to ask later.
“Where do you plan on taking us first?” Hawk asked leaning in close to Clyde's ear with a hand cupped around his mouth. He had taken a seat beside Clyde by the steering wheel but talking still had to be done at a close distance to avoid being drowned out by the boat's loud propellers.
“We're going to head North for 100 miles,” Clyde said pointing in that direction. “Then we'll head about 30 miles East to a small settlement near a village called Imokalee at the edge of the lake. I have a friend there named Abji who knows the Big Cypress area well. His family is one of the original Seminole tribes that used to inhabit the land hundreds of years ago. If your man is hiding out there somewhere he would be the one to know.”
As they started moving further North a gentle fog crept over the lake that cleared as they jetted through it and Hawk watched the blue dawn of morning spread out over the Everglades sky as the silence of the lake was cut in half by the drone of the airboat's blades. He saw lots of dragonfly scuttle past that occasionally hit his cheek and looked out in the distance at the miles of indomitable wilderness spread out before them.
The lake narrowed the farther from Aldwell they got and the cattail bushes became taller, more menacing, and swayed in the breeze like they were living creatures waving them goodbye on a long voyage. A few minutes later Hawk saw a small alligator resting on a sandbank on the shore, partly obscured by a sawgrass marsh. It looked like it could have been a toy and if he wasn't in the Everglades he probably would have thought it was.
“The gators in this part of Florida can grow as long as 15-feet.” Clyde yelled over, pointing at another one floating past with a giant green snout protruding above a lily pad.
“Are they deadly?”
“Nah if you don't bother them too much they're fine, but crocodiles on the other hand, they can be mean sons-of-bitches when they need to be. I've had more of my share of close calls with them in the past."
Hawk looked back at the alligator in the water just in time to see it disappear sullenly beneath the dark lake, then saw the one on the sandbank get up and join the other. Clyde kept the airboat at a steady speed as they glided around narrow corners and underneath towering mangroves arched over the lake like slender ballerinas. He could tell Clyde was in his element, the way he worked the steering on the boat with ease, handing turns and treacherous rocks like he'd been doing it since birth with a wide smile on his face. They drove on like that for another three hours, going about 40 clicks and only stopped occasionally so that Clyde could clear fallen tree debris out of the way of the boat with a metal rod.
“I figure we should reach Imokalee in the afternoon sometime.” He said. “Then we can take a break there and see what Abji says.”
“What if he doesn't know anything?”
“Then we can head West to Big Cypress and look around there, maybe ask some of the rangers if they know anything but don't tell them too much.”
“Your friend Abji, he's been here a long time?”
“All his life, I met him when I first started hunting in these parts. He taught me a lot about the glades. He runs a craft store selling old Indian art inspired by that part of the glades.”
“How long you been doing this for, I mean out here driving around like this?”
“Give or take about 5 years.” Clyde said. “I got a wife and two kids at home I have to support so I need the money. On weekends I usually hunt gator and sell the hides.”
“Does that add up to enough?”
“It's not a whole lot but it's enough to make ends meet.” Clyde said and winked. “Plus I like the sense of adventure you get heading out into these parts everyday, never knowing what might happen.”
“Yeah same here.” Hawk said. “I used to be a cop and you get so used to the chase that it stays in your blood after awhile. Gets so anything else you try to do afterwards seems like a drag.”
“You were a cop eh? My brother is a cop over in Texas. What do you do now?”
“You could say I still work in the law enforcement racket, but on my own terms. I didn't want to be told what to do all the time so I went into business for myself.”
“Sort of like a personal investigator and all that?”
“Yeah something along those lines.” Hawk said and looked over the side of the airboat while holding onto the rail. It started to hit him how far away from civilization they were heading. If Dottie's kidnappers were out here somewhere then they must be living like savages. The place looked like a no man's land. It reminded him of photos he'd seen of the Amazon rainforest basin with all of the greenery spreading out in all directions for miles, a place where you only came if you wanted to escape society. He'd heard before about gangs living in the Glades back in the 1980s from police friends but didn't believe it. He couldn't fathom the idea of being out here for more than a day or two himself. Every turn they took seemed to bring them deeper and deeper into the belly of the Glades; the trees seemed to get larger, the sky got darker, and the strange sounds around them became louder.
Dark clouds had also started to brood overhead that dropped small pellets of rain every so often. The day had heated up and the warmth started to weigh down on them like a heavy torch and Hawk had already gone through half his water and kept dabbing at his head with a towel. They were only about 40 miles from where they had started when Clyde started driving slower, saying that the area was known to have sinkholes and that he want to risk driving over one and damaging the boat.
“See that sawgrass over here?” Clyde said, pointing at some dense bush to the right of the boat. “When it gets this dense you don't see a lot of other creatures living in it besides crocodiles who use them for nesting. That's where I hunt them usually."
Hawk nodded but didn't say anything. He noticed Clyde's missing finger again and this time Clyde caught Hawk looking and said. “Ah I see you've noticed I'm a cripple.” He chuckled. “A croc took that off one time when I was first starting out. My gun jammed and it came right at me, took a chunk right out of me.”
“Yikes.” Hawk said. “You'd think that would have scared you enough to never tango with them again.”
“Nah, it made me want to tango with them even more!” He yelled with a grin. “I found him again a few days later and shot him, cut him open in my backyard to try and find the finger but it was no use. I learned that day though to always carry a knife with me in case my gun jams.”
“Nothing beats a good knife when you need it.” Hawk agreed. “God knows it's saved my ass more than once. It also almost killed me though.” Hawk raised his t-shirt and underneath was a long scar that ran along his hip. Clyde looked over at it with a grimace then looked back at Hawk.
“That don't look like a croc bite to me. Police work?”
“You got it.” Hawk said pulling his shirt back down. “A perp decided I'd make a good target for his knife.”
“You get him?”
“Yeah we got him, he's serving time now down in California.” Hawk said. “I kept his knife as a souvenir though.”
They both laughed and stayed on that way for another hour when the rain started to come down in sheets. Hawk grabbed the yellow rain jacket out of his bag, put it on and pulled the hood over his head. The wind was picking up, splashing water in their faces and it became difficult to see up ahead. Clyde was wiping his face with a towel every minute, squinting in front of the boat to try and see what was in the distance. He turned on the single headlight and the beam cut through the heavy rain like a laser, illuminating more dark forest coming around the bend. The sun from earlier had completely disappeared, replaced by an impenetrable darkness that slowly ate away at the entire area. Clyde checked his wristwatch and saw it was only 2 in the afternoon.
“We should pull over soon and camp awhile, think we're gonna run smack into a big storm if we keep going.”
“How long do you figure until the storm clears?” Hawk asked. “I'd like to keep going unless you figure it's gonna get a lot worse.”
“You can never tell in the wet season. It could rain for 5 minutes or 5 days. We're better off just to sit tight for a little while, try to wait it out.” Clyde said, adding, “Of course, you're the one paying so if you want to keep going we can try our luck and go a bit further.”
Hawk looked around, saw that Clyde was getting soaked and noticed that he was getting drenched as well. “Alright let's pull off somewhere and try to get dry for a bit. Maybe if it clears up in an hour or two we can head back out then.”
Clyde nodded, found a shallow sandbank closeby and Hawk helped him moor the boat to a large tree stump. Then they trudged through the muddy sand into the cover of the forest and Hawk put on his rain boots, made sure his gun was dry in the holster, took out his flashlight and followed Clyde up an incline to some large rocks in the distance.
