Narc - Debt Collector 7 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

by Jon Mills

  From the moment she entered the room her stomach sank. Attached to a whiteboard at the front of the room was a photo of Jack Winchester. Beside it was an aerial view of the island he lived on and off to the right was a breakdown of the strategy to be executed by air and sea. It was all sketched out using red and black marker. They even had an outline of every room in his small shack.

  She was about to turn and head out of the room to notify Jack when Thorpe called out to her.

  “Ah, just the woman I wanted to see. Agent Baker, come up here.”

  Her back was turned to him. Her eyes closed wishing she could be anywhere else but there. When she opened them, she found herself staring at Cooper who had just opened the door to join them. One look at his face and she knew. It was as clear as day. He swallowed and brushed passed her without saying a word. By now he should be overjoyed at the prospect of sweeping this guy up and yet he looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

  Isabel turned and a smile spread across her face. Put on a show, she thought. Do your job and act as though you haven’t a clue. She squeezed through a crowd of bulky SWAT guys who were gearing up as though they were about to head into a war.

  And yet in many ways that’s what they were going to get if Jack got wind of this.

  Jack! His face flashed across her mind.

  He was going to think she was involved in his apprehension. Who else would have known about it? Unless… Her eyes darted over to Cooper and she scoffed. No wonder she hadn’t seen him. That was exactly what he had banked on. They had put surveillance on her. Why didn’t she think about that? It was to be expected. After the hearing, they were on to her, or at least they had suspicions. What a fool. She had led them straight to him. She had no one else to blame except herself.

  “Sir.”

  Simon Thorpe turned to Rick Manning, the FBI’s SWAT team leader. “I told Rick here that you are familiar with the islands. Isn’t that right?”

  Isabel swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure if he was implying that she had spent a great deal of time with Winchester over the past two months or if he was referring to her involvement with bringing down the biker gang who had stored a number of firearms on different islands in the Keys.

  “That’s right.”

  Rick extended his hand. “Good to work with you, agent. I’ve heard this guy is quite a handful. Simon said you have worked closely with the perp. Anything we should be aware of?”

  She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and then shook her head. “Nothing that comes to mind.”

  His radio crackled on his chest and he reached around and turned the volume down. “That’s good. I’m sure this will be a simple case of in and out.”

  Thorpe’s lip turned up at the corner. She didn’t trust him as far she could throw him. Did he know? If so, why wasn’t he saying anything? All she could think about was alerting Jack to what was coming down the pipeline and yet chances of slipping out were next to none. “Please, Isabel, take a seat,” Thorpe said before turning to the rest of the group and getting their attention.

  “Okay everyone settle down. As you know we currently have eyes in the sky keeping tabs on Winchester. I wish to emphasize. This is not a man to be underestimated. He has already evaded custody on numerous occasions. I want this bastard in cuffs and alive.” He looked over at Isabel and she just knew it. She knew Jack was done. They weren’t cutting any corners here. Even if she could make a phone call, they probably had tapped his line and were using infrared and the Coast Guard to watch his every move.

  “As for you agents, the SWAT team will perform another safety check. I know it’s already been done but they will go over it again. Make sure your radios are on eighteen. Call it out on the radio and Manning will be sure you can hear and that everything is working before we head in. Does anyone have any questions?”

  “Are we dealing with an active shooter and if so, what’s the plan?” one of the SWAT guys asked.

  “Prepare for him to be armed and dangerous. We have patrol down there at the moment, and the Coast Guard is on the ready.”

  Isabel squeezed the bridge of her nose feeling a migraine coming on.

  “My understanding is that there will be two speedboats, along with whatever the Coast Guard has made available to us. We will be approaching the island from the west side where there is more tree cover. As soon as we have boots on the ground, the SWAT team will divide into two units. Team A will head in the front, B will take the back. The rest of you agents are to provide additional cover on the south and north side.”

  “What about K-9?”

  “We will have one available.”

  “Sounds like you are throwing the whole kitchen sink at this man. A little bit overboard, don’t you think?” one of the SWAT guys said, chuckling away.

  Thorpe, obviously not finding his comment funny, stepped closer to him and bent over at the waist to address him.

  “You think this is a joke? This man has killed more armed individuals than you will ever face in your lifetime. Don’t think for a minute that you are safe. I need your head in the game.”

  From there, SWAT leader Manning took over and dragged his finger along a line around the property. “There is a slim chance that he might attempt to bolt to one of the five other homes on the island. We have already notified the owners and told them to stay inside their residence. We are heading in at sunset. Which is in exactly an hour from now.”

  “All good?” Thorpe asked.

  They all nodded and a few muttered to themselves. Isabel got up to leave. She thought if she could slip out that perhaps, just maybe she could at least let him know that she had nothing to do with it. That idea was squashed the moment Thorpe called her over.

  “Agent Baker.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t have any questions about how we managed to locate him.”

  She shrugged. “Just glad you did.”

  He studied her face and she could feel her collar tightening.

  “Stay close. I want you with me when we go in.”

  She gave a slow nod. Inwardly she was repulsed by the very idea. What type of game was he playing?

  “Do you mind me asking who located him?”

  “Why do you wish to know?”

  “Just curious. After pursuing him for so long, I’d be keen to understand how he slipped up.”

  His eyes drifted and she noted that he looked at Cooper. She had already figured it was him. Thorpe inhaled and reached around to his back to work out some kinks. “Let’s just say he didn’t slip up. Someone else did.”

  Her cheeks burned at the thought that she hadn’t taken better precautions. It wasn’t like she hadn’t checked her phone after the hearing. She did it on a weekly basis, however there was the chance that they had requested her phone records from her service provider. In which case they would have been able to track several calls made from Jack’s time in Oregon. Even if he had used a throwaway phone.

  Isabel turned to leave.

  “Don’t go far, Isabel.”

  “Right.”

  A deep orange sun had sunk into the horizon, as palm tree branches danced in the breeze. The lapping of water had lulled Jack into a slumber. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon with his feet up in a porch rocker, reading and watching cruise ships glide through the waters, and fishermen return to collect their traps. A few dark clouds had rolled in on the horizon and the occasional boom of thunder made his eyes flutter. A book of fiction lay open on his chest and a straw hat rested over his eyes as darkness fell.

  He awoke and his mouth was dry. He reached over to a small table and took a sip of sweet tea. When he wasn’t working, he would bum around in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt. He brought his legs over onto the sandy planks of wood and he arched his back, rolled his head around and felt his stomach grumble. He slipped his feet into his sandals and strolled down the steps, and followed the path that snaked its way to the water. He’d set
up a homemade trap to catch a few lane snappers or spiny lobsters. He waded in the cool waters and pulled up a trap to see what he’d caught. There was nothing inside.

  “Great, looks like it’s going to be a frozen dinner tonight.”

  Since he’d been living down in the Keys he’d changed his diet up. After years of eating the greasy crap they served up in New York, it had done a number on his system and so now he was trying to stick to fresh food, fish, chicken, veggies and anything that didn’t have a barcode attached. The beauty of Florida was there was an abundance of fish, and a quick trip over to Marathon allowed him to stock up on all the essentials. He had bought a large freezer so he wouldn’t have to make too many trips. The rest he caught himself.

  He strolled back into the house and snatched up his phone. Over the past few months he’d appreciated spending time with Isabel. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t check his phone to see if she had messaged him. Her sense of humor held his attention, and her beauty, well that was something else. There had been very few women that had pulled him in. He’d seen all manner of females in New York, and had dated his fair share of stunners but there was more to her, a depth that went beyond appearances. Conversation flowed freely and he felt comfortable around her. There was never a sense that she was with him for money, like others had been. The closest that any person came to Isabel was Dana.

  Jack pulled out a beer from the fridge, and cracked the top off it before pulling out a pot and filling it with two quarts of chicken broth. Then he set the burner on high. After defrosting some tarpon fish, he waited until it was boiling and then dumped them in to cook. He switched on the radio, dialed into some blues music, cranked it up loud and checked his messages.

  “You want to come for dinner?”

  He shot a message over to Isabel and then continued chopping up some carrots, celery and sweet potatoes before tossing it all in. It was quick, easy and would be ready in thirty minutes. Jack checked his phone again but there was no reply. Usually she would get back to him within ten to fifteen minutes. He’d got her a disposable phone, and she paid a small amount to cover texting. Though he hadn’t had the chance to visit her place, she’d spent many a night at his. He tried again, one more time, but there was no answer. It didn’t worry him; he figured she was busy working on some case. He grabbed up the Miami Herald and browsed some of the news while the broth began to simmer. And every now and again he would hear a chopper fly by. It wasn’t unusual. There were a number of tour companies that operated out of Marathon and at the tip of the Keys.

  He leaned against the kitchen counter and took another swig of his beer and relished the sound of the waves. It had taken some time, some kind words and moments of contemplation but he was beginning to find peace, and even more with Isabel.

  Chapter Four

  At exactly 8:13 that night, Isabel boarded one of the Coast Guard’s rigid-hull inflatable boats. Apparently they used it against drug traffickers as they had a mounted machine gun at the front and back. Her stomach was in knots and she thought she was going to vomit over the side as it bounced over waves. A fine mist sprayed in her face and she clung to the side and glanced at four of the SWAT team. Thorpe sat across from her staring at her the whole time. She tried to divert her eyes and push away the thought of what would happen if it came to light that she had helped Jack. The heat of the summer bore down on them even though the sun had vanished. A bead of sweat rolled into her lower back from wearing the FBI windbreaker and body armor. With Thorpe’s eyes on her, she was beginning to feel even more uncomfortable. She adjusted her EarHugger earpiece and settled in for the short journey.

  “Smile, Agent Baker. Finally we get to bring him in,” Thorpe said over the noise of the waves. A few of the SWAT team looked at her absently. They didn’t care who it was they were bringing in; it was just another day on the job.

  “What makes you think he won’t just run again?” she replied.

  “Oh, trust me, he won’t.”

  “How can you be so confident?”

  Thorpe made a face as if he was privy to some information she wasn’t. The truth was very little was shared with the agents unless it was critical. The fewer people who knew, the less shit they had to mop up when operations went wrong.

  “Five minutes,” a burly Coast Guard said. The SWAT team leader gave him the thumbs-up and almost looked excited. It was what these guys lived for. The opportunity to bust into some a-hole’s abode, toss a few smoke grenades and wield overpowering weapons.

  Her adrenaline was kicking in and making her heart beat faster in her chest as she spotted the dark mound of trees, sand and homes in the distance. The place had become her retreat away from the madness of her work. It was selfish really. She thought she could ride the razor’s edge of work and a relationship.

  “Hold on, folks,” the Coast Guard said turning the boat sharply as they got closer to the island. Isabel braced and felt the boat whip around. It pulled in slowly to the dock.

  “Remember. I want him alive.”

  “Go. Go. Go!” Manning said as he and his crew hopped out and double-timed it up the rickety dock and over the rise that would lead to Jack’s residence. Isabel followed the SWAT guys and Manning until they were within twenty yards of the back of the property. Darkness wrapped around them like a blanket, a crescent moon offered little to no light as storm clouds rolled in threatening to burst.

  Over her earpiece she could hear Manning give them commands. The second boat arrived and the sound of boots stomping down vegetation brought home the reality that this was going to happen. From a distance Isabel caught sight of Jack inside his home. The glow of a yellow light. He moved back and forth completely unaware that at any moment SWAT were about to burst in through the door with weapons on him.

  Someone came up the rear behind her with a German shepherd dog. Its eyes glowed, and its gums pulled back to reveal a mouthful of teeth. She hoped to God that it wasn’t required. Usually it was a last resort, another means of drawing them out, or finding them if they tried to hide.

  Off to her right she spotted Cooper. He glanced her way but then focused in on the home. Slowly they started pushing ahead towards the structure.

  Jack had heard the boats approaching, the low-flying helicopter and the change in sound. It was if all the birds on the island went quiet to alert him to their presence. He wanted to look out and see for himself but he had only minutes to get beneath the cabin. The only downside to his place was the number of windows that gave them a good view of what he was doing. One by one he went to each of them and pulled the drapes together. Once the final one was closed he switched off the lights to shroud himself in darkness.

  In his first week on the island he had gone about creating two escape hatches. One was in the living room, and the other was in his bedroom, just inside his closet. It wasn’t anything fancy. He’d cut a portion of the flooring out, attached a hinge and covered them with mats. The house was built up on stilts to avoid flooding, however unlike the other homes on the island his was only a few feet off the ground. Seemed whoever built it didn’t think it through. It should have been at least ten feet high. Perhaps that’s why he got such a bargain on the place.

  Jack pulled back the mat, lifted the hatch and slid down into the narrow space. Beneath the house, he had stashed away a Glock 22, a passport and thirty grand in hundred-dollar bills inside a zip-lock bag. It was attached to the bottom of the wood by some duct tape. He tore it away and watched the silhouette of legs as they moved in on his cabin. His eyes flitted around to the east and west side, then the north and south. They were everywhere. Shit! His heart was pounding and he realized he was fucked.

  Right then he heard it. “Federal agents. We have a warrant.”

  Then, before they kicked in the door and entered, Jack heard the sound of glass breaking and a smoke grenade hitting the floor, which was followed by boots pounding the floor. Smoke started seeping through the planks of the floor and he coughed. He needed to get ou
t of there and fast. Sliding back in the wet sand and mud, he went to the east side of the shack where the mangroves and tall reeds provided the most cover. He hadn’t got within a few feet when they spotted him.

  “Get on the ground now!” a voice bellowed. Two more joined in and the sound of a dog barking aggressively made him know that it was pointless to resist. He hit the ground and put his hands out. A hard knee landed on his back and his arms were brought around and cuffs were slapped on him. He felt the metal teeth pinch his skin as the officer continued to give him commands.

  Several flashlights were being shone in his face. He squinted and they hauled him up. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw her.

  His stomach sank.

  She had her piece in her hand but was holding it down low. She looked at him, but said nothing. Had she been behind this? Had she changed her mind? It was his one fear. That she would eventually wake up and decide that she was tired of living on both sides. It was a tough position and one that he’d discussed with her at great lengths. No, if she’d known, she would have told him, wouldn’t she? He grimaced as they shoved him forward and read him his Miranda rights.

  As they prodded him forward and he passed by her, he met her gaze and she diverted her eyes. In that moment he thought about the conversation he’d had only three days earlier.

  They were lying naked in bed together, wrapped up in white sheets, a mosquito net around them. She was resting her head on his chest and running her fingers over his skin.

  “You know if this gets too much for you, you would tell me, right?”

  “I wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t what I wanted,” she replied.

  He traced a finger over her face and pushed back a lock of hair behind her ear. Her heartbeat drummed out a steady rhythm. Peace and quiet, only the sound of the waves lapping against the shore; it seemed almost too good to be true.

  “I’m just saying. I would understand.”

  She looked up at him. “Are you having doubts?” she asked.