Redemption in the Keys

by Matthew Rief

  “When I told him I was going after Carson, he sent me a few tools to help hack into her system,” Kyle said, his stubbornness finally wearing away a little. “One is a small piece of equipment that he just recently finished. He calls it the Plague. It looks like an ordinary USB thumb drive, but once it’s connected, it attacks the computer and uses the computer’s own RAM against itself to search for keywords, even in heavily protected files. Essentially, it can turn a computer into a cannibal that attacks itself for specified intel.”

  “Specified intel?” Ange said.

  “Keywords, names, dates, et cetera,” Kyle replied.

  “So it’s basically a hacker in your pocket?” Ange said.

  Kyle nodded.

  “That sounds incredible,” Scott said, genuinely amazed. “If that’s the case, then getting one of you near her computer is the mission. How long does this Plague take?”

  “Depends,” Kyle said. “Murph told me it usually takes anywhere from five to fifteen minutes, depending on the amount of intel you’re trying to get and depending on the computer’s security. With Carson’s computer, I’d wager it’ll be closer to the fifteen side of things.”

  We continued like that for a few hours, going over every scenario until the makings of a plan were formed. It was crazy to think that we were about to go after one of the most powerful and dangerous women in America. If I’d been told a few days earlier everything that was about to happen, I would have responded that I had a better chance of winning the lottery.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  At 1800, Scott took off, telling us he’d be standing by for his role. After a quick dinner, we stopped by a local men’s formal shop called Jimmy Tuxedos. At first, we were planning to rent something for Kyle, but after seeing the selection, Ange insisted I buy a new suit as well. I picked out a black Italian regular fit, and Ange insisted that I get a bow tie as well. Kyle got the same one, and Ange said that we both looked pretty good for a couple of frogmen.

  Once we had our appropriate attire on lock, we headed back to the marina, then prepped our weapons and equipment. Unlike most of the infiltrations and attacks I’d prepared for over the past few years, this one required everything to be compact. We’d each have one handgun, an extra mag, and an assortment of well-placed knives.

  Just as the sun was beginning to fall into the Gulf of Mexico, we cast the Baia’s lines and cruised the 120 miles from Key West to North Key Largo, keeping to the Atlantic side of the Keys. The sky was dark, the moon nearly full, as we motored past Old Rhodes Key and into Card Sound. We were just south of Biscayne Bay and about thirty miles south of Miami. It was a calm evening, with less than five knots whispering over the water around us.

  At just before 2200, Richmond Key came into view. It was pretty good-sized for a privately owned island, roughly thirty acres and round in shape. Much of the island was dark, featuring densely packed palm trees and thick underbrush. But the southern part of the island, where the heart of the resort was located, was brightly lit and full of activity. Elegant classical music was playing, boats were traveling back and forth to and from the mainland, and well-dressed people walked down both of the massive wooden docks extending from the main building of the resort out into the sound.

  We cruised towards the key at about twenty knots, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves. The sleek, dark hull of the Baia would blend in well with the other fancy boats, allowing us to reach the island without drawing suspicion. We counted three patrol boats, clearly part of Carson’s private security detail, doing laps around the key. Timing our approach so as to avoid them as best as we could, I put us on an arched approach for the northern part of the island.

  I’d already changed into my black tuxedo, and Ange had changed into her maroon dress. We had the topside lights switched off, but I could see her well enough in the moonlight to know that she looked amazing. We finished arming ourselves for the inevitable confrontations we were going to have with Carson’s men. I had my Sig concealed under the right side of my waistband, fully loaded with fifteen 9mm rounds. I also had my dive knife secured around my left lower calf, strapped close to my body using a neoprene sheath. Ange had her Glock on her right hip, hidden by her dress, along with a few throwing knives.

  Right before reaching the island, I grabbed a pair of drysuits from the guest cabin, one for each of us. Unlike the pristine white sandy beaches of the southern part of Richmond Key, the northern part was rockier, and I didn’t want to get mud on our shoes and clothes as we made our way inland. We put our shoes in a plastic drybag, then pulled the drysuits up over our bodies.

  Jack brought us as close as he could to the shore, then idled the engines. All four of us took a final look around, and when we didn’t see any of the patrols, I gave a thumbs-up to Kyle and Jack.

  “See you in there,” Kyle said.

  I stepped down into about two feet of water, gaining my balance on the rocky bottom. Turning around, I offered a hand to Ange.

  “What a gentleman,” she said with a smile.

  As soon as she’d cleared the Baia’s swim platform, Jack eased up on the throttles, and they were soon out of view as they wrapped around the key, heading for the other side. Ange and I held hands for stability as we sloshed through the water and soon reached the shoreline. We moved up off the sand and onto a layer of fallen leaves. We both went absolutely silent for about thirty seconds. Not a word or a sound was made by either of us as we stood frozen, listening to the world around us. It was quiet aside from the soft rustling of wind through the palm leaves above and the rummaging land crabs all around us. In the distance, we could hear the music playing from the resort along with a few occasional voices.

  Just a hundred feet or so from the shore, we came to a paved pathway. From the satellite imagery, we’d been able to see that it traversed all the way around the island. My guess was that it was designed mostly as a bike and running path, and for groundskeepers to use as they golf carted their way around the island. As we’d suspected, there was no security on that part of the island, at least none that we could see.

  Seeing that the coast was clear, Ange and I quickly shuffled out of our dry suits, grabbed our dress shoes from the dry bag, and put them on. The path looked new and well maintained, with only the occasional palm leaves scattered about. We moved side by side, heading south towards the main part of the resort. The dark water to our left made intermittent appearances through the trees, but for the first few minutes we were surrounded by nothing but dense, tropical jungle.

  After five minutes we reached the outdoor recreation area which consisted of four tennis courts, a full-sized basketball court, and an indoor fitness center. As we passed the tall metal fence surrounding the tennis courts, we caught our first glimpse of security personnel. Two guys, both dressed in matching suits, stood about two hundred feet away from us right where the path forked. Part of the path continued south; the other turned west toward the heart of the island.

  We noticed that each of the guys had an earpiece and that they were routinely checking in and giving the status of their watch station. They were too far away for us to tell what they were talking about, but I figured it was far from serious. I’d stood long hours on watch before and knew that boredom was usually the only enemy you had to worry about.

  “Ange,” I said quietly. We were both standing still beside the trunk of a palm tree. Her head swiveled and her eyes met mine. “I think this calls for the drunk lover.”

  I couldn’t help but smile as I said the words. She paused a moment, then her lips formed a smile as well. Drunk lover was her favorite cover character.

  “Wine or tequila?” she said with a wink.

  “Well, it’s a nice party,” I said. “Open bar, no doubt. I’d go with champagne.”

  Her smile broadened. She took a short step away from me, then dramatically cleared her throat a few times. Bringing her right hand over her head, she proceeded to hover it down over her face like a TSA member using a metal detec
tor wand. Her expression went from normal to plastered out of her mind in the blink of an eye.

  “That was some great champagne,” she said, wobbling side to side to complete the act. “Don’t you agree, baby?”

  I wrapped an arm around her to keep her from toppling over.

  “Some of the best,” I said. “Now let’s get you back inside.”

  I kept helping her stay up as we moved slowly along the pathway, heading right past the two security guys. Normally, I’d have preferred a more aggressive approach. But the last thing we wanted was to put all of Carson’s security detail on high alert before we’d even reached the resort. Plus it had been a while since I’d seen Ange as the drunk lover, and it was always entertaining.

  “Where are we going?” Ange slurred, raising her voice loud enough for the two guys to hear. “I wanna play tennis. You’re just embarrassed I’m gonna beat you at tennis.”

  “Hey,” one of the guys said. “What are you two doing out here?”

  They were each only about fifty feet from us by then. We kept walking south and didn’t stop or divert our movements in the slightest.

  “She’s had a little too much to drink,” I said. “Sometimes she goes wandering off.”

  “You’ve had too much to drink,” Ange said, glaring at me playfully before dropping her head and waving it side to side.

  The two guys froze and watched us for a few seconds before their stern gazes shifted to more annoyance than anything else.

  “I’m just gonna get her back inside,” I said. “Maybe find a place for her to lie down.”

  “I don’t need to lie down,” she fired back. “What I need is more glasses of bubbly.”

  She tripped and almost fell right on her face. I barely reacted fast enough to keep her from smashing her nose in. I was impressed and thought her performance deserved an Oscar nomination.

  “I don’t know how you managed to get by us, but this part of the island’s off-limits tonight,” one of the guys said. “That’s why we have the path roped off.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “She’s not really herself right now.”

  As we moved past them, Ange tilted her head sideways and glanced at the two guys.

  “Wow, hubba hubba,” she said, looking the guys over from head to toe. “Look at those strapping men. I like the bald one best.”

  Both men smiled and shook their heads. Neither one of them were bald. We continued down the path, me keeping her balanced as she swayed from side to side. About a hundred feet past the two guys, we reached a low-hanging rope that stretched across the path. We stepped over carefully, and Ange continued to talk nonsense until we turned a corner and were out of sight of the guys.

  “Ange, there’s no one like you,” I said.

  She came out of character in an instant and walked beside me normally.

  “Thank you, thank you,” she said, giving a slight bow.

  We entered a large courtyard with magnificent fountains, cobblestone walkways, blooming flowers, and hanging white lights overhead. It was stunningly beautiful, a true feast for the eyes. It looked like it belonged to a royal family and I could only imagine how many professional gardeners and landscapers it took to create and maintain such a place.

  There were a number of guests walking around admiring the gardens along with a few security guards standing by. We blended in nicely as we walked casually, admiring the grounds and smelling an occasional flower.

  “I’m so glad you booked us a villa for the weekend,” Ange said as we passed by a group of four very rich-looking people and a guard standing stoically behind them.

  I glanced at my dive watch as we made our way across the courtyard to the main building of the resort. It had been fifteen minutes since we’d been dropped off on the island. I ran through the plan in my head and figured that Jack would be pulling the Baia up to the dock in about ten minutes and dropping Kyle off. Part of me really wanted to see the look on Carson’s face when one of her security guards informed her that Kyle Quinn had just shown up to her party. She’d probably be less surprised if the president popped in.

  We made our way off the cobblestones and onto a set of wide granite stairs that led up to a large veranda and a propped open set of impressive French doors. People spilled out from the doors, socializing and admiring the gardens from above. We moved inside, arm in arm, cool and confident. I hadn’t spent a lot of time at fancy gatherings in my life. I preferred live music and rounds of beer at Salty Pete’s. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned when it comes to pretending like you know what you’re doing, fake it till you make it usually rings true. In my experience, as long as you look and act the part, no one will notice.

  The main hall of the building was filled with people intermixed among an army of servants carrying trays of drinks and food. There was expensive furniture, elegant paintings on the walls, and a large glass chandelier that I estimated cost more than my boat. On the eastern side of the room was the bar, a massive waxed mahogany number with a selection of alcohol that covered the entire wall behind it. On the western side of the room, a musical ensemble consisting of over thirty musicians played some of the most intricate and complex music I’d ever heard.

  Ange and I made our way through the heart of the room towards the bar. I caught more than one person staring at Ange as we walked, and it didn’t surprise me in the least. I couldn’t help checking her out myself. Her maroon dress hugged her tanned skin in all the right places. Her hair looked like it was the product of three hours with a professional stylist. And her toned legs took my breath away in her high heels. She was hands down the most beautiful woman on the island, in the entire world for that matter.

  When we reached the counter, two of the male bartenders moved towards Ange like they were being sucked in by tractor beams.

  “What’ll it be tonight, miss?” one of the guys said.

  He had long black hair that was slicked back. The way he looked and spoke kinda reminded me of the Fonz, which caused me to smirk.

  “A Manhattan, please,” she said with a smile.

  If Ange hadn’t glanced at me, the guy probably would’ve never noticed that I existed. Ange had that effect sometimes.

  “Make that two,” I said.

  The guy didn’t even look my way. He shot Ange a wink, then turned and went to work making our drinks.

  Ange and I leaned with our backs against the counter. I could tell she was looking at me, and I just smiled.

  “What?” she said.

  I turned and looked into her beautiful blue eyes.

  “You look incredible,” I said. “That’s what.”

  After what had felt like ten seconds, the guy set our drinks on the counter. Another smile for Ange. Another wink too. We grabbed the small fancy glasses and spent a few minutes facing the wide open room, making note of every detail and observing the movements of the security guys while we made playful small talk.

  Just as we each were getting to the bottom of our drinks, the music quieted down and the large group focused their attention towards the main entrance. My eyes focused as if I were hunting and had just caught a first glimpse of my prey. Carson Richmond had just walked into view.

  She was a tall, imposing woman, the kind who instantly commands the attention of everyone in a room. She walked elegantly but confidently as she greeted people at either side of her. She had fiery red hair, an athletic body, and strong facial features. She was wearing a dark blue dress and high heels, which made her look even taller than she was. She was a beautiful woman, there was no denying that. Even though she was in her early fifties, she looked twenty years younger, a feat she’d undoubtedly achieved through surgeries and the use of heavy makeup. She reminded me of the sirens in Homer’s Odyssey; the beautiful creatures that lure you in close, then eat you alive.

  As she neared the center of the room, her eyes scanned around her and stopped momentarily as they met mine. She smiled at me and I smiled back, then she continued greeting the rest of her guests
.

  Shit, I thought. What are the chances that she recognizes me somehow?

  She was a big shot, I reminded myself. Someone who probably recognized important people only. I convinced myself that she wouldn’t have wasted her time learning about me, that Drago might not even have revealed that I’d been with Kyle. Her look and her expression hadn’t been one of recognition but of curiosity. Of genuine interest.

  Was this woman into me? I shook my head and brushed off the idea.

  Carson stopped in the center of the room and gave a quick speech, welcoming everyone and thanking them for attending the grand opening of her new resort. She had a Southern accent and was good at speaking to a crowd. Her words were articulate, her voice smooth. She came across as the most inviting and nonthreatening person alive. When she finished, she raised a glass in the air and gave a toast.

  After downing half the contents of her glass, she again looked over at me. I smiled back again, then turned to order another Manhattan.

  “Holy shit,” Ange said. She was still at the bar, though she’d been facing the other way and standing a body length away from me. Though she’d only met Carson briefly a few years ago, she didn’t want to risk being recognized.

  I glanced over at Ange and saw that her mouth had dropped open.

  “Smile back at her, Dodge,” she said. “I don’t want her to recognize me, but smile back.”

  Before I could reply, she’d moved even farther away from me down the bar and turned to face the courtyard through a window, looking away from where Carson was walking. I felt my phone vibrate to life in my pocket, indicating that I’d received a message. It would have to wait.

  I saw that Carson was looking and walking straight towards me. The guests around her parted like the Red Sea, letting her move towards me without breaking stride. Her light green eyes scanned away from mine only momentarily as she greeted someone who’d said hello. She stepped right up to me, her heels allowing our faces to be at the same level. The intoxicating scent of her perfume flowed into my nose. She grinned at me again, this time bigger.