The Night Charter

by Sam Hawken

  “It could be hours before we hear from her,” Ulises said. “Days.”

  “She seems anxious to do a deal with us,” Echave said. “We may not have to wait long.”

  “We should gather,” Carlos said. “It’s better if we wait together.”

  “I will call my father,” Ulises offered.

  “Do that,” Echave said. “In the meanwhile we—”

  Echave’s email pinged and silenced him. He looked and saw a new message in his in-box. The sender was Anita Lopez, and the address was the one she had given them. There was an attachment. Echave clicked to open the email and then the attachment.

  The attachment was a picture from a telephone camera and showed Sergio Chapado sitting beneath a sink on the floor of a yellow-and-brown bathroom. A large piece of medical gauze was taped over his bare forearm. His wrists were red with the markings of handcuffs.

  He hasn’t been harmed by me, the email read.

  Echave described the contents of the email. Carlos made a sound like relief and fear all at once. “That picture could have been taken at any time. Ask for proof of the date.”

  “Yes,” Echave said, and he composed the response. Show us today’s date.

  Another email came quickly. A second picture of Chapado, only now a hand held a sheet of paper with the date written on it in pen. The hand was a woman’s. “So she didn’t lie about that after all,” Ulises said.

  Echave was about to answer when his email program chimed again. A third message from the woman calling herself Anita Lopez. No picture this time, but a simple trio of sentences: He’ll be yours in less than 36 hours. Matt Clifford, too. Keep it to yourself.

  “Ask her what she wants,” Carlos said over the phone.

  Echave typed. His fingers stumbled over the words. He sent the email. The response was nearly immediate: Nothing. Don’t test me. Do as you’re told.

  We will, Echave wrote, and he sent it away. No reply came.

  “We need to get the best men we have left,” Carlos said. “We can’t have another situation like Liberty City. This could be another trap. If we aren’t ready, we’ll be robbed again.”

  “She doesn’t want the money,” Echave said. “We won’t need to take it. She only wants to hand over Señor Chapado and Clifford.”

  “Why?” Ulises asked.

  “I have no idea, but I will not ruin the situation by overthinking it. We will go with weapons, but only to protect ourselves in case of betrayal. If we attempt to do more than that, this woman might do something to Señor Chapado, and all will be lost.”

  “I want to be a part of the team,” Ulises said. “I’ll retrieve Señor Chapado myself.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” Carlos said. “Álvaro would never forgive us if something happened to you. We have others who can go. It’s too much of a risk.”

  Ulises addressed Echave directly. “Let me lead the way on this, señor,” he said. “I swear I will do you proud. It will be my honor to bring Señor Chapado directly to this house, alive and unharmed.”

  Echave thought. He considered the words of the woman, the image of Chapado bound beneath the sink, and the chaos wrought by Matt Clifford on Alpha 66. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll allow it. But take no chances. I will not have your death on my conscience.”

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  GALDARRES SWELTERED IN Davíd Ocampo’s garage with the others, waiting for the arrival of the last man. Their inside man. “He’s late,” Galdarres said.

  “He’ll be here,” Davíd assured him.

  Around Galdarres were the others—Peyrera, Icaza, and Pedro Maldonado—and they too perspired heavily. Davíd had switched on a shop fan to stir the air around, but with the garage door closed, all the heat of the day was trapped in the space with them.

  Davíd’s phone rang. He answered it and conferred quietly with the person on the other end before hanging up. “He’s approaching now.”

  A button was pressed, and the garage door began to slowly rise. A gasp of blessedly fresh air breathed into the garage. Galdarres turned his face into it, but the moment did not last. A young man in shirtsleeves and a tie ducked underneath the rising door to step inside, and Davíd pressed the button again. They were cut off from the outside.

  Galdarres looked at the young man. Ulises Sotelo seemed barely out of his teens, despite the clean cut of his slacks and the neatness of his tie. His face was smooth-shaven, giving him an even more youthful appearance. A pomade in his hair made the black glisten.

  “Señor Galdarres,” Davíd said. “This is Ulises Sotelo.”

  Galdarres rose to shake Ulises’s hand. “Come sit with us,” he said.

  A chair was made available to Ulises, and all of them sat in a circle. Davíd rubbed his hands together as if he were about to propose some kind of card game but said nothing. The others were sullen in the heat. Galdarres sensed frustration in them. They wanted to move ahead.

  “It is done,” Ulises said. “I’ve been placed in charge of reclaiming Señor Chapado.”

  “You and how many others?” Galdarres asked.

  “Two. We have a shortage of capable men.”

  “And are they? Capable?”

  “Yes. Military veterans. They will be well armed.”

  “We can take them out,” Peyrera said.

  Ulises’s face creased, showing worry lines that seemed out of place on such young features. “Is that necessary? There must be another way.”

  “Are you worried we will also kill you?” Galdarres asked.

  “No. I know you find me too valuable inside.”

  “And we do. You won’t be harmed.”

  Ulises seemed relieved. “Thank you,” he said.

  “When is the exchange due to take place?” Davíd asked.

  “We’re not sure. We haven’t heard back from the woman yet. She says soon, but she hasn’t provided us with any details beyond that.”

  Galdarres nodded. “She will likely wait until the very last moment so you have no time to prepare. It’s what I would do.”

  “You can rest assured that I will pass the information along immediately,” Ulises said.

  “I believe you. Your father must be very proud.”

  “My father is an idiot. Only a fool hangs on to a grudge for fifty-six years.”

  “I see,” Galdarres said. “Will you excuse me? Davíd, please come with me.”

  Galdarres left the garage and went into the air-conditioned house. He was soaking wet beneath his arms and in a patch down his back. The cool on his face was like the welcome touch of a lover. Davíd followed behind him. “Yes, señor?” Davíd asked.

  “Be certain the door is closed,” Galdarres said.

  Davíd checked. He pulled the handle firmly. There was no give. “Yes,” he said.

  “How long has this man, Ulises Sotelo, been working with us?”

  “A little over two years.”

  “And has he been useful?”

  “Sometimes. His information is always good.”

  “We can’t allow him to lay his hands on Chapado,” Galdarres said.

  “What? Why not?”

  “There is something I have learned through many years in Cuba,” Galdarres told Davíd. “And that is that anyone who betrays one person will easily betray another. As far as we know, Ulises may be claiming to work with us, but his allegiance may still lie with his father’s people in Alpha 66.”

  “There’s no evidence of that,” Davíd said quickly.

  “It doesn’t matter. Once we have the information from him, we will move ahead with the operation on our own. We will be certain Chapado is dead before this young man or any of Alpha 66 have a chance to take him from the woman holding him. And after that, we will do away with Ulises Sotelo altogether.”

  Davíd’s face paled. “Kill him?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why? He’s a valuable asset.”

  “Once we’ve killed Chapado, it will be only a matter of time before Alpha 66 deduces wh
o betrayed them. How many people do they have left? How many are privileged enough to hold this information? He will be the first and most obvious choice. He’s seen all of our faces. He knows too much about us. He needs to be eliminated.”

  Davíd said nothing.

  “Go back in there and assure him that all is well,” Galdarres said. “Make him feel like the valuable asset you say he is. But don’t forget: once our enemy, always our enemy.”

  He let Davíd go before bringing out the phone the man had given him. He dialed a Miami number that went directly to a voice mail box. The tone sounded.

  “The operation will conclude shortly,” Galdarres said. “I will make arrangements to return in five days. All should be settled by then. Preparations should also be made to burn this cell after my departure to prevent leaks. Good-bye.”

  Galdarres hung up the phone. He weighed it in his hand for a long moment, thinking. Once he was done, he put the phone back in his pocket and turned toward the garage. He passed through the door into the heat with a smile and made all present feel confident about what was to follow.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  RICHARD STORY CALLED about midday. Camaro took the call. “May I speak to Lauren?” he asked.

  Camaro passed the phone over. Lauren took it in both hands and held it to her ear. “Uncle Richard?”

  “I’m coming into the city now. Are you okay? Where are you?”

  “I’m…” Lauren said, and then she looked at Camaro. “I’m not sure I should say.”

  “Let me talk to him,” Camaro said.

  She took the phone back. In the background she heard wind and traffic. Richard was driving with the windows open. If he was from a town close to the Mexican border, out west of San Antonio, he would be used to the heat, if not Miami’s cloying humidity. “Hello?” he said.

  “I’m here,” Camaro said.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m a friend of your brother’s.”

  “Why do you have Lauren?”

  “I’m keeping her safe.”

  “She wants me to come and get her. Where do I go?”

  “We’ll meet you in Florida City. It’s south of Miami about half an hour or so. There’s a Denny’s right off US 1. You’ll see it from the highway.”

  “How do I get there?”

  Camaro told him and had him repeat it back to her. “I’ll give you an hour. Don’t be late.”

  “I won’t.”

  She ended the call and turned to Lauren. “It’s all set. You’re on your way out of here.”

  Lauren looked around her. “I don’t have any bags to pack.”

  “I’ll see if I can find a laundry bag or something.”

  She searched, but there was nothing of the kind. In the end she stripped the case from one of the pillows, and they filled it with the clothes Camaro had bought her. With the pillowcase slung over her shoulder, Lauren looked like a street kid. Camaro wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

  “There’s something else,” Camaro said.

  Camaro brought the attaché case she had kept from Parker’s house out from underneath the bed. She unzipped it and emptied the case out onto the mattress. Lauren gasped when she saw the bundles fall. “What is all that?” she asked.

  “Your dad’s money,” Camaro said. “It’s forty thousand dollars.”

  “How did he get forty thousand dollars?”

  “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it’s yours now. Put it down deep in that pillowcase. Don’t let anyone see it. Hide it somewhere when you get where you’re going, and don’t spend it unless you have to.”

  “What about my uncle? He should know.”

  Camaro put her hand on Lauren’s arm. “Don’t tell anyone. Ever. They’ll ask questions you don’t want to answer, or they’ll try to take it from you. It’s the secret that you keep.”

  Lauren nodded then. She gathered up fistfuls of cash and crammed them into the pillowcase among her things. Only when it was all gone did Camaro step away.

  Chapado waited in the bathroom. Camaro crouched down to see him eye to eye. “I’m going out, but I’ll be back. Tonight’s the night. You’ll go to your people, and we’ll never see each other again.”

  “Please don’t gag me,” Chapado asked.

  “You’ll yell and scream if I don’t.”

  “I promise you I won’t. I have no desire to go with the police. I only want to be with my brothers in arms. They will take care of me.”

  Camaro took a washcloth from the sink and kneaded it in her hand, thinking. “I can’t cut you loose of the sink,” she said.

  “I don’t expect you to.”

  “I’m trusting you,” Camaro said.

  “I know. You can. You have never hurt me. I know what you do, you do for that girl. That it helps you is only your second concern.”

  She put the washcloth back in the sink. “I’ll be gone no more than ninety minutes. I expect to find you here when I get back.”

  “You will,” Chapado said.

  “Okay.”

  Camaro stood up and closed the bathroom door on the way out. It was not a heavy door, but if he screamed, there would be that little bit more insulation between him and the outside world. She only hoped no one had taken the room next door sometime in the night.

  “I’m ready,” Lauren said.

  “Let’s go.”

  They left, and Lauren rode on the pillion seat with her arms around Camaro’s waist, the pillowcase held fast in its place behind her. Camaro took the long way, and on a stretch of empty street, she carved a gentle slalom between the curbs. Lauren laughed at that and Camaro smiled.

  When they reached the Denny’s, Camaro parked the bike around back so that it was not visible from the road. They went in and asked for a booth for three. The server brought them water and seemed annoyed when they ordered nothing else. “We’ll wait until our last one gets here,” Camaro told him.

  Camaro caught sight of Lauren’s hand trembling on the tabletop, and she put hers on top of the girl’s to still it. “I’m nervous,” Lauren said.

  “I don’t blame you. You don’t know your uncle.”

  “I don’t remember him from when he came here last.”

  “When was that?”

  “About ten years ago, I guess. My dad said they didn’t talk much because of Dad’s trouble. He always said Richard was the better brother.”

  Camaro patted Lauren’s hand and tried a smile. “You’ll do fine. You’re a good kid, and your dad was a good guy. His brother will be, too.”

  “And what if there’s a problem? What if I need you?”

  Camaro waved the server down. “Do you have a pen I can use?”

  The server gave Camaro a pen, and Camaro used it to write a number and an email address on a napkin. She gave the pen back. She pushed the napkin toward Lauren. “Anytime you need me,” she said.

  Lauren took the napkin and looked at it. She folded it in half and put it in her pocket. “Okay,” she said.

  Time passed. When she saw the battered pickup truck enter the parking lot, she knew it was Richard Story. When the man got out and put on his straw cowboy hat, Camaro thought she might have seen a little of Parker in him, but not much. The hair she glimpsed was dark and not fair. Parker had been broader at the shoulder, not rangy like his brother in his plain blue work shirt and faded jeans. Richard wore boots.

  He came into the restaurant and looked around for them. Lauren twisted in her seat and signaled him with her hand. He came to the booth and stood there without sitting down. “Jesus, Lauren, you’re all grown up,” he said.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Lauren said.

  Richard turned his gaze on Camaro. “You’re the friend?”

  “That’s right. Sit down.”

  He did so slowly, sliding in beside Lauren and facing Camaro across the table. Up close there were features in his face that were exactly like Parker’s. Richard was clearly the younger brother, maybe thirty, but sun-dried and tanned from long
hours outdoors. Parker had the look of a surf bum. Richard looked like a workingman. “Where are the police?” he asked.

  “Not here,” Camaro said. “And they won’t be. You need to take Lauren out of here, and only when she’s at least a state away should you call them. If you do it before then, they’ll want to take her. Don’t make it easy for them.”

  “What happened to Parker?”

  Camaro saw the waiter coming. “It’s hard to explain,” she said.

  Richard seemed as though he were about to say something more, but the waiter arrived to take orders. Camaro asked for a club sandwich. Lauren had a burger. Richard told the man iced tea was good enough. It was only when the waiter was gone again that he found his voice. “I just drove sixteen hundred miles to get here,” he said. “I want some explanation.”

  Lauren’s expression turned pleading. Camaro knew she wanted all to go well. “You know your brother didn’t always earn an honest living,” Camaro said.

  “I know.”

  “He got mixed up with some bad people. Real bad. They put him in a situation he couldn’t get out of and he died. But he knew it could happen, and he asked me to look after Lauren and make sure she got to you. I did that. If you want more of the story, there’s a cop I can put you in touch with, but you have to promise me you’ll wait.”

  Richard examined her face as if searching for some lie. Camaro made her expression blank. “Did you kill him?” he asked her.

  “No. I tried to save him.”

  “And these bad people…they’d hurt Lauren?”

  “They might. Do you want to risk it?”

  They sat still, looking into each other’s eyes, until Richard looked away. He turned to Lauren. “Are you sure you want to come with me?” he asked.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Where do you go from here?” Richard asked Camaro.

  “It’s better if you don’t know.”

  Richard grunted. “We should go now.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  They got up, and Camaro put money on the table to cover the food they wouldn’t eat, plus a tip for the waiter’s time. Outside, she sent Lauren to get her pillowcase of clothes. They all stood by Richard’s pickup. He shifted on his feet, visibly searching for words that would not come.