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

by Scott Cook

  “Yeah, Jackie. I’m on the second level along the forward bulkhead, portside,” I didn’t shout. What the hell did she expect me to say?”

  The ship’s PA system crackled to life and a Hispanic voice announced that it was the captain. He said that he had surrendered the vessel to United States government agents and that all crew should disarm immediately and make their way to the upper deck. I continued to climb in silence.

  I reached the top tier of containers and got on top again, sliding my way aft toward the intersection of walkways. I heard the sounds of some weapons clattering to the gratings along with mumbles and shuffling footsteps. Apparently some of the men were following orders, but my gut told me this wasn’t quite over yet.

  “Commander!” Jackie called out again. “It’s all right, you can come out now… Scott, are you in here?”

  I’d slid my way to the corner and was just about to sing out. I could see a man walking toward me from astern, although I couldn’t quite make out his face. He seemed tall, athletic and he was dressed all in black. However, I also saw one of the crew, crouching in the port to starboard corridor, just as the one I’d first met had done. He knelt on the deck and was sighting along his weapon. I slid sideways, to port and peeked over the edge again. I was a little behind him, just as I’d been the first time.

  Well, when something works, go with it…

  I slid over the edge and landed on my side, rolling over and up onto my knees. The man whipped around to bring his weapon to bare but I was just a little bit faster. I had mine in both hands, leveled at his chest and fired!

  Nothing happened… well, not exactly nothing. There was a muffled clunk as the hammer fell on an expended shell casing and the slide jammed. My borrowed weapon had jammed after the last round I’d fired and instead of ejecting the empty casing, it had lodged inside the breech.

  The only thing that saved me was the shock of my sudden appearance. My target hesitated for a split second and I took advantage of it with the only course of action open to me. I lunged forward, launching myself at his mid-section. His gun went off just as I sprang and I swear I felt the whoosh of air as his bullet passed just over me.

  I struck him head-first in his gut, wrapped my right arm around his waist and seized the wrist of his gun arm with my left. He went over backward and with a hard twist, I sent his weapon flying out of his hand to bounce off a container and to clank to the grating. The struggle ended quickly when the barrel of another pistol appeared against my opponent’s head.

  “That’ll do,” The man I’d seen walking toward me said. “I think you got him, Jarvis.”

  I looked up into the bemused face of Commander Bryan Turner. He grinned at me as I dismounted and hauled the crewman to his feet.

  “I think you might have just saved my ass,” Turner said. “Thanks.”

  I scoffed, “Not nearly as much as you saved mine, Commander… so thank you… but what gives?”

  “You can thank your girlfriend,” Turner said with a wry grin as Jackie Stevvins stepped up and smiled at me.

  For a moment I thought he meant her. At the confused look that must have been plastered on my face, she laughed.

  “Lisa,” Jackie said. “It’s a bit of a tale.”

  I chuckled, “One I’d like to hear… oh, speaking of tail… now that you’ve rescued me… can somebody get this damned tracker outta my butt?”

  Jackie snickered, “Oh, is it bothering you, honey? Your sensitive little hiney a bit achey-wakey? Little inflamed maybe?”

  “I’m not sure… you tell me, Gunny,” I turned, unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and lowered them and my skivvies down and gave her an unobstructed view.

  Even turner was laughing.

  38

  “I’d really like to tear this ship apart,” Turner was saying as we headed up onto the main deck and aft. “If Bolivar and Garcia were aboard, then I’d bet my life there’s something here that ICE should deal with.”

  “She’s bound for Cartagena,” I put in. “Which means she’s probably light on contraband. And even if not… we’ve got bigger fish to fry, Commander.”

  Turner eyed me sidelong, “Such as?”

  “I assume you came in that second vessel I saw on radar,” I said, “and that you got my radio message… so you must’ve seen that helo land and take off not long ago?”

  He grimaced, “Yes. Bolivar and his brother I presume.”

  “Yeah… and Bolivar told me that he’s still got most of the germs… but some of them are going to be released as a demonstration.”

  “Not with his kids in custody it won’t,” Turner growled.

  “I don’t think that matters,” I said. “He knows anybody connected with me, whoever that might be… in his mind probably the CIA or something… won’t harm his children regardless.”

  “So that means that sometime soon, somewhere… a bioweapon is going to be released?” Jackie asked. “My God…”

  At the stern railing behind the superstructure, I looked out to see a familiar ship holding position just twenty yards away. Two grappling irons were hung on the railing and were connected to the other ship’s bow with stout two-inch lines.

  “Is that the Robert Ballard?” I asked in surprise.

  Jackie chuckled, “Yup… told you Lisa saved the day.”

  “This I need to hear,” I commented.

  “The rest of the team is doing a cursory sweep,” Turner said. “You feel up to a little hand over hand descent or should we rig a boarding netting, Jarvis?”

  I cocked an eye at Turner. Was he baiting me? Finally I said: “No problem.”

  Jackie and I swung ourselves over the railing and began sliding slowly down the lines. The Ballard must have her engines in reverse to keep tension on the rope, because it hardly sagged at all as we wrapped our hands and feet on it and half-slid, half-monkeyed our way to the bow of the smaller ship. Once there, I was met by Lisa.

  She threw her arms around me and hugged me tight, “Are you okay?”

  “Right as rain,” I breezed. “Thanks for the pickup. How are you doing?”

  “Relieved,” She replied, pulling back. “I’ve been so worried all night.”

  “And busy, I see,” I said, waving an arm around. “What gives?”

  “Let’s go below and we’ll fill you in,” Jackie said. “And get that chip outta your booty, too.”

  “I’m all for that,” I said. “Still… something’s bothering me…”

  “You mean besides having a square of metal jammed in your butt cheek?” Lisa asked with a giggle.

  “That is foremost on my mind,” I said.

  “Pressing on your brains, is it?” Jackie needled.

  “You’re on report, Gunny,” I said and gave her a shove. “It’s the fact that Bolivar is going to release those germs… but where…”

  “First thing’s first,” Lisa said, leading us into the main saloon.

  The Robert Ballard is a one-hundred and fifty foot research and salvage vessel. Although looking at her you’d just as easily assume she was a private yacht. The ship consisted of three decks, two of which rose above the hull. On the top level from forward and going aft was the bridge, captain’s suite and dining compartment and a sky lounge. Aft of this was a large open sun deck. The main deck featured the owner’s and VIP suites forward, galley and plush saloon and then two research labs aft before the wide open work deck in the stern. In the hull, the lower deck housed four plush staterooms aft, the engineering spaces and then two crew’s compartments forward of the engine room. Beyond this, taking up a third of the vessel’s interior was a large hangar that opened downward to allow access for an advanced minisub called the Rodney Fox after a famous shark enthusiast. A tall tower rose over the bridge with advanced communication and navigation equipment as well.

  In the saloon, I wasn’t surprised to see Jack Brody. Brody was somewhat infamous as a military wreck diver. He was a big tough man of about fifty whose gruff exterior masked a true love for history
and preserving it. His partner, Jibreel Al-Rajid, sat next to him and grinned at me. Al-Rajid was a historian possessed of considerable wealth who spent as much time with Brody as he did back at his museum in Dubai.

  I was far more surprised to see Gregorio Santino there as well. Santino was the head of one of the country’s largest organized crime families. Over the last year and a half, he and I have had some interesting adventures together. Santino had been a Marine and still maintained an athletic soldier’s body. He was about six feet in height and was in his early fifties although you’d take him for younger quite easily.

  “What the… Christ…?” I breathed. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I was already aboard,” Santino explained, getting up to shake my hand. “Long story. I got a call from young Lisa here yesterday afternoon. It seemed she was concerned about your safety and some doings related to ICE.”

  “We weren’t far from the Keys,” Brody explained. “When she told us that you were meeting this Bolivar asshole and possibly being taken out to sea, we arranged to pick her up and track you down.”

  “Jesus,” I said with a head shake and grinned at Lisa. “Pretty resourceful.”

  She chuffed and eyed Jackie, “Don’t fuckin’ tell me you’re sending my man off to his fuckin’ death and that there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  Jackie chuckled, “The indomitable Lisa.”

  I narrowed my eyes at my lover, “So even when we were headed to Key West, you must’ve had this already in motion… and didn’t tell me?”

  Lisa shrugged, “I wasn’t totally sure it’d work out… I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Well, I’m heartily glad you did,” I admitted, giving her a squeeze. “Otherwise… I don’t know what would’ve happened. I’m curious about something, Jackie… how was our agent in Columbia able to snatch Bolivar’s family so quickly?”

  “He didn’t,” Jackie said. “When the Colonel got in touch with him, he did eventually get to their house… but nobody was there. He wasn’t able to find the wife or children at all.”

  “They’d already been taken,” Santino supplied the answer. “I have… agents… in that part of the world too, Scott. My people acquired them when Lisa filled me in on the details. Any way I can help put a stop to that filthy trade…”

  Santino had been adamantly against narcotics since I’d met him. Although drug trafficking was easy money for the Mafia, thanks to their organization, Santino wouldn’t permit it and often took an active role in suppressing the trade. In spite of being the head of a crime family, Santino had a very strong streak of honor and integrity.

  “I think Bolivar should know who has them,” I stated. “He thinks it’s me and maybe the government. It’s not deterring him from using his weapon… but if he knows his wife and kids are held by mobsters… it might give him pause. Wish we could get in touch with him.”

  “Oh, we can,” Santino said. “Because we’ve got her, the wife, and she knows how. Although until that helicopter comes into range of a mobile phone tower, we’ll have to wait.”

  Amanda Wilson stepped through the door that led aft into the corridor between the labs, “You want that thing removed, Scott, or have you gotten used to it by now?”

  “Removed please,” I enthused.

  “He’s got a GPS tracker up his ass,” Jackie told the room at large. She barely managed not to break into tears of mirth as she did.

  “So that’s what’s behind your success, huh Jarvis?” Brody jibed. “True dedication to crack every case.”

  “I do so admire a man who… shall we say… sees things through to the end,” Jibreel remarked with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Amanda led me out of range of any further witticisms and into the corridor and then into the portside oceanography lab. There was a similar compartment on the other side filled with marine specimens. At one time, both had belonged to Ariel Mizrahi, an Israeli born marine biologist and oceanographer who had also been a Mossad intelligence agent. During the events chronicled in Sins of the Fatherland, she and I had become intimate. Not long after, she had died along with Audrey Lambert in a C4 explosion.

  Although I’d never been in the oceanography lab, Ariel’s essence seemed to still be present within. As if at any moment, I’d hear her low, soft and mellifluous Middle Eastern voice whispering something in my ear. It gave me a little shudder that thankfully Lisa didn’t notice. She knew about Ariel but I didn’t like to make a point of bringing it up.

  ‘Here, lie on this table,” Amanda said. “Take off your pants and skivvies. Don’t be shy, I’ve seen it all before.”

  I did as she asked and laid on my belly on top of a low work table. I could hear Lisa giggling and she appeared next to me.

  “It’ll be okay, punkin,” She teased. “You be a good boy and we’ll get an ice cream after.”

  “Oh, you two are a Goddamned riot,” I cranked. “Maybe we should strip the two of you down and let me make cracks about you and your… cracks.”

  “How is that any different from like… every night since I’ve known you?” Lisa poked.

  There was a sharp bee sting on the edge of my right cheek… the other one… and suddenly the mild discomfort I’d been feeling seemed to vanish. I could feel something touching me back there but it was only a sense of pressure.

  “Ooh…” Amanda commented. “This looks a little inflamed… bet it’s been hurting.”

  “Yeah, pretty much since the Vicodin wore off,” I said. “A real pain in the ass… ha-ha.”

  “It’ll feel much better shortly… just let me remove these stitches…” Amanda was muttering more to herself than to me.

  “So what’s bothering you?” Lisa asked.

  “You mean other than having my ass carved like a holiday roast?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  I sighed, “it’s where in the world Carmen Sandiego is gonna poison a water supply… where the hell is Bolivar planning to release the streptococcus… and something else is nagging at me, too.”

  They waited.

  “It’s the yacht…” I said, trying to ignore the tugging near my backside. “The last I noticed, she was headed more or less north…”

  “Probably just getting away from the freighter as fast as possible,” Lisa offered.

  “Hmm… can you activate the intercom to the bridge?” I asked.

  Lisa went over to the wall near the door and hit a button, “Bridge… this is the oceanographic lab.”

  The sound of a British accent filtered over the speakers. Apparently, Joe McClay, a man I’d met right around the time I left OPD, was still with the ship. McClay was in his mid-forties and was something of a typical big gruff Irishman from New England. Red hair with a little gray, red beard and emerald green eyes. I’d discovered that Joe wasn’t in fact an American but a real Irishman. He was born in Ireland and his family had immigrated to England when he was very small. Joe’s true voice was that of a middle-class Londoner. When he spoke in his natural accent, you’d never know he wasn’t English. However, he could convincingly speak in a flawless American accent that might have just a hint of Boston or even the middle Atlantic in it.

  This served him well in his underlying profession. Although a licensed ship’s captain, Joe McClay was also an agent with MI6. I’d learned that he, Brody and Al-Rajid used their salvaging operation as a cover for discrete investigations and other tasks for the queen. I also knew that ICE had a connection to them as well, which helped to explain the presence of the Ballard.

  “Can I assume our prodigal son is with you, Lisa?” Joe asked in his natural English voice. “Glad to have you aboard once again, Scott.”

  I chuckled, “Thanks, Joe… listen can you still track that big yacht on your radar?”

  “Indeed. I have her on my scope now. She’s headed three-four-zero at twenty knots. Our range is thirty miles, and she’s nearly at the extreme edge.”

  My own little voice, not dissimilar to Magnum’s, was shouting at me but I couldn�
�t quite hear what it was saying. I drummed my fingers on the table for a moment.

  “What is it?” Lisa asked.

  “That ship… why is she headed north?” I asked again. “She’s registered and berthed in Panama…”

  “Well, she does belong to EcoLife,” Lisa observed.

  “Yeah, but they keep her in Panama not Saint Louis Missouri…” I trailed off, something finally clicking. “But if she did head up into the Mississippi… the Coast Guard and customs wouldn’t find that very odd, would they?”

  “What’re you getting at?” Amanda asked.

  “Oh, sweet bloody Christ…” McClay exclaimed over the intercom. “I believe I know what you’re thinking, Scott.”

  Lisa’s sea-blue eyes went wide, “Suppose she is going to Saint Louis… and then when she gets there…”

  “What would happen if several billion flesh eating bacteria were suddenly released into the Mississippi?” I asked no one.

  I felt Amanda flinch. I felt it because her left hand was firmly gripping my left cheek, the one that wasn’t numbed. I turned my head to look at her.

  “Depending on how much,” Amanda explained as she worked. “They could affect aquatic life and possibly cause sickness as far down as New Orleans. They might get into the water supply… not sure if anyone uses the Mississippi for water, though.”

  “Farms might,” I said. “Irrigation… the germs could infect crops, livestock and even people along the river. Not a total disaster but potentially bad news.”

  “That’s assuming they release the germs into the river,” Lisa sounded unnerved. “Suppose somebody dumps the canister into the water supply of Saint Louis itself?”

  “My word…” McClay breathed. “We’ve got to stop them.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Can you contact Turner and tell him to get his ass back on board pronto?”

  “Hang on, I’ll patch you in… go ahead.”

  “Commander Turner, can you hear me?” I asked.

  “I read you, Commander.”

  “You need to get back aboard ASAP,” I implored. “I think I know where the germs are. But we’ve got to move now.”