To Honor We Call You: A Florida Action Adventure Novel (Scott Jarvis Private Investigator Book 9)

by Scott Cook

  Peter met her eyes and nodded ever so slightly. Kate couldn’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed. This seemingly small favor might have very large political ramifications. She was additionally torn by the thought of hiding something that her own government might wish to acquire.

  “Por favor, senorita Capitan!” Helena almost pleaded, the dignity of her title just holding her back from an outright prostration. “This is mas importante… will you help me? And give me your word to keep this a secret?”

  Again Kate looked to Peter. The young man, not even ten years her senior, nodded almost imperceptibly once again. Kate drew in a breath and stood, bowing under the deck beams, “I will be honored to carry out your wishes, Contessa. I will do my utmost to protect your property until such time as I can return it. Upon my word and honor I will.”

  Helena set her empty glass down, leapt up and flew into the taller woman’s arms, “Gracias! Ay, gracias! You don’t know what this means to me.”

  The woman handed over two sheets of fine parchment on what looked to be drawn a map on one and some Spanish legal language on another. Both were imprinted with an inked signet, an oval of intricate and beautiful design. When Helena held out a golden necklace with what looked to be a large and elongated coin hanging from it, Kate was intrigued to see that the relief design on the medallion matched the print on both sheets.

  Helena hung the chain around Kate’s neck, carefully tucking it beneath her neck cloth and shirt. The warm gold felt odd laying against the top of her bosom, and the papers, which now sat beneath her coat and occasionally crinkled against her breast seemed fragile and vulnerable. It gave her a vague sense of unease.

  “Please keep them in a safe place,” Helena implored, pressing Kate’s hands. “It may be a long time before we can correspond. Yet we will meet again, mija. We will meet again.”

  Outside the door to the half deck, the marine sentry stomped his boots and clashed the butt of his musket on deck, “Midshipman Jones, sir!”

  “Come in!” Albury declared loudly enough to be heard through the bulkhead.

  A young man in his middle teens rushed in, “Mr. Canning’s duty, sir… signal from the flag for Miss… er… Captain Cook to repair aboard at once.”

  Peter met Kate’s eyes and there was a twinkle in his own, “And so it begins, Katie girl. Good luck.”

  Kate wasn’t quite sure of exactly what was meant by that somewhat cryptic statement. However, she composed herself and went down into her boat to face what would no doubt prove to be an interesting if trying few hours.

  33

  From the Exciting Adventures of One Clever and Sexy Chica

  Lisa’s journal entry 5

  I know… I know… it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Have you missed me? Have you missed the elegance, eloquence and sweetness that is this truly sexy biatch?

  After Mr. Cruz left, Scott practically dove into his office safe. He had this air of excitement about him. It was like somebody had just told him he’d won the Lotto or something. When he opened the safe and withdrew two plain pieces of paper, I was a little confused until he slapped them on the desk and smiled radiantly at me.

  “Feast your gorgeous bulbs on these, sugar tits.”

  I chuckled and looked at the sheets. They were photocopies of the papers that Scott had handed over to Garcia. There was the map of part of the Columbian Andes and the land claim deed. I looked at him questioningly. I think I was distracted by how excited he was.

  “Look again,” Scott said. “And remember what you read me the other night in Kate’s journal.”

  My eyes felt like they were going to fly right out of my skull, “Oh my God! The seal! It’s the etching from the medallion, right? The one that lady gave Kate? The one that Cruz…”

  Scott laughed sardonically, “Yeah, the one that some museum guy just happens to know about… who just happens to be in Orlando… Martin Cruz my Irish-Italian ass.”

  Scott whipped open his laptop and started furiously tapping keys. He was at it for like ten seconds, a look of mischievous triumph on his face.

  “You gonna actually turn it on?” I asked with a wry grin.

  “Oooohhh!” he intoned. “Okay, let’s see what this brings… I’m sending a vidcap of Professor Cruz to one of our tech boys. Let’s see if he can get a match. Ready to take a ride?”

  I felt like I was being pulled along in his wake, “Ride? Where?”

  “Miami, of course,” Scott said, closing the laptop and getting to his feet. “I think time is of the essence. There’s not a moment to be lost! The game is afoot, Watsoness! We need to talk to Ray’s mom.”

  I frowned, “She wasn’t too keen on the idea last time.”

  “Well,” Scott said airily. “You didn’t use the old Jarvis charm on her. Gimme five minutes with the lady and I’ll charm her into telling me what we need to know or my name isn’t Benforth Grunknobbler.”

  I laughed, “Your name isn’t… that.”

  Scott looked horrified, “Oh, geez… well, let’s try anyway. I’ve got to fly back to Patrick and return the plane.”

  “Want me to come?”

  “Repeatedly.”

  “Seriously.”

  “I am serious, but we should probably go to Miami first,” Scott said, grinning. “It’s probably better if we have our own car. Besides, we can take the boys this time. You go home, pack us a couple of gorgeous overnight sacks and meet me in Melbourne. Then we’ll rocket down the coast and see what we can see. Got to be someplace we can stay with two dogs.”

  “My mom will let us stay with them,” I suggested.

  Scott frowned, “Hmm… after George’s blow up the other week… I don’t know.”

  “Let’s see how it goes on the way down,” I said.

  “Okay, then run me back to the airport, muffin. We’re almost there, Lisa. The end game is within reach, I can taste it.”

  “Tell me more,” I said excitedly.

  “No time! We’ll talk more on the way… to the BatMobile!”

  “We don’t have a Batmobile.”

  “Oh… to the Mystery Machine!”

  “Nope, fresh out.”

  “Uhm… Go Speed Racer? Go, go gadget rockets? Uhm… let’s get the Smurf outta here?”

  “Did you take your crazy pills this morning?” I asked, trying not to pee my pants.

  “Yes! I took a double dose.”

  “That explains it.”

  I watched Scott’s plane lift off the runway and climb into the early afternoon sky. It was weird, seeing him fly away like that. It wasn’t but a few months ago that he and I barely managed to get a floating cargo plane back on the ground safely and now he was a licensed pilot.

  I drove back to the house and packed a couple of bags for us. Morgan and Rocky were pleased at being invited on a long car trip. Scott and I both hated leaving them a few weeks back when we’d gone to Stuart and Miami.

  Scott made me promise not to mention what we’d done… sailing, motor boating… that’s to say going out on a motor yacht. They’ve seen him motorboat me hundreds of times. He insists on their watching in fact.

  Scott says that if Morgan and Rocky found out we’d gone out on a sporty to Cuba and then caught a bunch of dolphin without them that they’d be both hurt and angry. He said they wouldn’t speak to us for a month.

  It never ceased to amaze me how far down into the depths of silliness that man’s mind can go…

  So I packed up the Mercedes. It had been repaired in Miami and returned to me a week earlier, good as new. The damage hadn’t really been that bad to begin with, thankfully. Thankfully mostly because the insurance company hadn’t totaled it, determining that it’d be far cheaper to fix what was mostly cosmetic damage. The lads and I got onto the 528 and headed east to 520 east and then over the bridges from Cocoa to Cocoa Beach and right onto A1-A. Patrick Airforce Base was sort of between Cocoa Beach and Melbourne. There was no really fast way to get there. You had to just drive along the coast for about twent
y minutes or so in either direction before you’d come to it.

  When I drove onto the base and up to the guard gate, I was surprised to see Scott already waiting there for me.

  He got in and leaned way over, facing me and kissed the ever lovin’ begeebers outta me. After a few breathless seconds he pulled away and smiled at me in a way that made me want to check into a motel immediately.

  “Hey gorgeous,” he breathed, sitting back in the passenger seat. He handed me a sheet of paper and grinned wickedly.

  On it was a photo of Martin Cruz. Not a very good photo. It was taken on a street someplace and a bit grainy. However, the text below the photo made my pulse jump.

  “Face recognition identity confirmed,” I read. “Subject identified as Antonio Bolivar II… holy shit, baby!”

  “I know, right?” Scott asked, buckling himself in. “The cajones to fuckin’ walk into our office bold as brass! Martin Cruz… chyeah… I got your Martin Cruz… swayin’ pendulously.”

  I laughed, “I kind of thought there was something fishy when he started talking about that medallion. So you think that Angelique knows where it might be?”

  “I’ll bet dollars to navy beans on it.”

  “There you go again,” I said, pulling out onto A1-A. “You and your damned navy beans.”

  “Hey, I’m in the navy now,” Scott protested and began to sing: “Anchors away, my boys… anchors awaaaayyy! Eat a bunch of beans then toot till break of day-ay-ay-ay!”

  “Wow… just wow…”

  “You love me.”

  “Yeah… and if that don’t make you believe in miracles…”

  Scott turned around in his seat and began to scratch the dogs, who were both vying for attention. After a few moments of this and a lot of licking, Scott turned around and swiped his sleeve across his face.

  “Did you get a chance to call Ray?” I asked.

  Scott nodded, “Yes. I told him that we needed to talk and that included his mother. I told him to get her someplace protected and get some security there, too. How about you? Talk to Aleja?”

  I nodded, “Yes. She’s thrilled that we’re coming and even that we’re bringing the dynamic duo back there.”

  “How about George?” He asked.

  I shrugged, “Mom says he’s fine with it. Said he feels a little bad about blowing up last time.”

  Scott sighed, “I don’t know… I wonder if it’s a good idea to stay with them… guess it can’t hurt…”

  “I’d like to,” I replied, turning onto Eugalle in Melbourne to head back west across the intracoastal. “I think it’d be good to sort of… bury the hatchet.”

  It wasn’t long after we got onto I-95 that Scott’s phone rang. The number was unknown, so he set his phone flat on the console and accepted the call on speaker mode.

  “Jarvis.”

  “Have you had any luck yet, Mr. Jarvis?”

  It was Martin Cruz, aka Antonio Bolivar. Scott’s eyebrow rose at that.

  “It’s only been a couple of hours, Mr. Cruz,” Scott said pleasantly.

  There was a laugh. It wasn’t exactly good-natured but neither was it outright wicked. Yet there was something… unusual conveyed in it.

  “I’m surprised to hear that, considering your reputation. So you’ve found out nothing?”

  Scott sighed, “I didn’t say that. I said I haven’t found the medallion yet. However… I have learned something very interesting.”

  “I assume that you’re referring to my true identity, no?” The man sounded smug now.

  “It took a lot of balls to walk into my office like that, Bolivar,” Scott replied. “Even to come into this country, considering who you are and what you and your brother are doing.”

  “Small risk for now,” Bolivar said. “I knew that you would figure it out. Either guess or confirm it somehow. That is good, because it is vital that you find that medallion.”

  “You’ve got the map and deed, what more do you want?” Scott asked.

  Bolivar laughed, “The medallion is the key. Literally. Without it, the paper means nothing. I need it, and you will find it for me.”

  Scott scoffed, “You can have your two grand back, because the last thing I’m going to do is hand that over to you, Bolivar.”

  “Oh, I think you will. For one thing, it rightfully belongs to me. It belonged to my great, great, great… grandmother. Ironic, isn’t it? How only because of your own great, great, great…. Grandmother that the thing even still exists? Having been preserved by an honorable Englishwoman? And how her descendant would one day become the adversary of my brother and myself? It almost makes you believe in destiny.”

  “What of your other brother?” I asked. “He’s not a part of your schemes, whatever they might be.”

  A dismissive sound, “Our father was… well-traveled, Jarvis. Ramon is probably not our only other sibling. However, he’s important because I believe the same thing that you believe… that my father gave his mother the medallion before leaving Cuba. It’s only because Ramon is my blood that I haven’t made any attempt to get to her first. I’ll let you take care of that for me. Get that medallion and we’ll arrange a time and place to meet.”

  “The last thing I’m going to do is empower you with that land,” Scott explained. “You really think the U.S. government will allow that?”

  He laughed heartily this time, “Oh, I think they’ll allow it. By now, you’ve no doubt learned the truth about some things, yes? About EcoLife, about Audrey Lambert and about the sunken Nazi submarine.”

  I felt ill. By Scott’s coloring, I think he felt the same. We both knew what was coming next.

  “I have the germs. And unless you hand that medallion over to me, I’ll use them… some of them. I’ve already set up a means of distribution. If you don’t comply, then I’ll release a portion of my stock by way of example. It is just before two in the afternoon. Let us say… nine p.m.? I’ll call back then and you’ll inform me that you have the item in your possession.”

  The call was ended. Scott simply stared at his phone and then at me.

  “Jesus, baby…” I groaned. “What do we do?”

  Scott clenched his jaw, “He isn’t giving us much time… I have a feeling we’re once again gonna have to comply.”

  “You mean just give him the final key that lets him acquire all that land?” I asked, feeling angry. “Then set up the world’s largest coke manufacturing system? Goddammit, Scott! That can’t be allowed to happen. Nikki Sloane didn’t give up her life for that shit!”

  I saw him wince at my words and I felt sorry for them. I wasn’t mad at him, just mad at the whole situation. It was like this Bolivar guy had every advantage and we had nothing. Nikki was dead and Scott could’ve been killed more than once on this stupid case… and all just to let the bad guy win?

  “He’s not going to win,” Scott said defiantly as if he’d been listening to my thoughts.

  He looked at me with such intensity I felt a little electric thrill shoot through my belly. I can’t quite say what it was, exactly. I get the same sort of butterflies when he looks at me with desire in his eyes and I know what’s coming… maybe there was some kind of lust in his eyes then. A desire to defeat the enemy and a determination that there could be no other outcome.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, as if I really didn’t know.

  Scott smiled, “You bet your cute little ass.”

  We were right around the Port St. Lucie area when Scott’s phone rang again. This time it was Grayson.

  “Glad you called, Colonel,” Scott said. “We’ve had some interesting developments today.”

  Grayson chuckled, “So I hear. Antonio Bolivar came to visit your office. Extraordinary.”

  “Yes… he’s after a medallion that’s apparently used as a seal on the map and deed he has,” Scott explained. “Apparently this medallion must also be presented to the government as further proof.”

  “And I assume Bolivar wants you to find it for him and hand it over
. Any idea what it is?”

  Both Scott and I scoffed and he said: “You’re the guy who knows everything, Colonel, you tell me. I’d have to guess it’s some Incan or Musca artifact. Something that provides proof of ancient blood lines or something. Anyway, he wants it and he’s giving me until twenty-one hundred to find it.”

  “Can I assume you’ve got a line on this thing?”

  “I do. I’m almost certain that Ray Tavares’ mother has it. It was in Bolivar’s family until the 1970’s… and I think I know where it went after that. Colonel… we need to get together on this.”

  Grayson harrumphed, “Indeed we do, Commander. I’ll be in Miami in a couple of hours. If and when you do find that item, we need to start formulating a game plan. Can I also assume Bolivar has made a threat that he’ll carry out should you fail to hand over the artifact?”

  “You got it, Colonel,” Scott replied. “He’ll release some of the germs. A demonstration. I doubt it’ll be here in the U.S… but maybe someplace in Central America or even Mexico. Somewhere that will hurt and hurt American interests. This guy is no fool and I get the impression he’s well organized and well prepared.”

  “So are we,” Grayson said in a tone that sounded dangerous. “I’ve got assets all over Latin America. We’ve got other things in play also. We’ll talk later.”

  Scott reached out and took my hand, “See? I done told you we was in the end game.”

  I grinned, “You’re such a fart smeller… smart feller.”

  When I pulled into my mom’s driveway, I noted that there was a red Maserati parked in front of one side of the garage. Scott looked at me but I only shrugged. I didn’t recognize the car.

  We got out, let the lads tinkle on the lawn and then made our way inside. Just like last time, my mom met us at the door with a smile and enthusiasm. She hugged and kissed me, then hugged and kissed Scott and then hugged and kissed the boys, too. They appreciated the attention.