by Scott Cook
“How’d he find the damned boat in the first place?” I asked. “They didn’t have GPS back in those days. So are these two numbers coordinates? But to what? And how do you find them again? If they didn’t have GPS in the fifties, then what did they…? Loran! They had the Loran system!”
I snapped my fingers and rubbed my hands together. Loran was a radio direction finding system established around World War Two. It used multiple pulses of radio frequencies to triangulate a position. Although the system fell out of use not long after the inception of the Global Positioning System, you could still convert old Loran numbers to GPS!
I sent a quick email to Richard Kelly at ICE with the two numbers. I wasn’t sure, but I thought that Loran numbers were shorter. Or they had a decimal. After only ten minutes I got a call back.
“Scott, its Richard,” Richard Kelly, ICE’s director of intelligence said. “Those are Loran numbers you gave me. I just added the decimal after the fifth digit. I’ve got a conversion for you. It’s not as accurate as GPS. Probably only within a few hundred feet at best.”
“That’s okay, Richard, what’ve you got?” I asked eagerly.
“Looks like twenty-six degrees, thirty-five minutes, forty-eight seconds north latitude by eighty-two degrees, thirty minutes, ten seconds west longitude. About… twenty miles west southwest of Fort Myers,” he read off. “I can send you the actual GPS numbers for a chart plotter. That any help?”
“I think so,” I said. “I’m not quite sure why yet, but it’s a lead at any rate.”
“I take it you’re going back down to Southwest Florida,” Richard observed. “Is this something we should know about, Scott? Should I tell the Colonel about this information?”
I sighed, “Honestly, I don’t know, Richard. Maybe, maybe not. It may involve Senator Thorne and Congresswoman Davies, though… so who knows.”
“One last thing,” Richard said. “I’ve looked into that situation over your way. The one with the Japanese national who was supposed to have been abducted.”
“Yeah, I know already… she’s flown the coop and the police can’t seem to find anything about her.”
He chuckled, “And they won’t. But as you know… we’ve got a longer reach. I haven’t got a full picture for you yet… but sources tell us that there is a rogue former Japanese ministry of defense intelligence operative that’s dropped out of circulation. She’s around your age, small, slim and deadly. Rumor has it she’s gone merc and might have come west a year or two ago. Her specialty is infiltration and neutralization, Scott.”
“An assassin?”
“Exactly. Now this is just a rumor, of course. This mystery girl just happens to fit the description. We’re still digging. Just keep your eyes open.”
I thanked him and hung up. My phone dinged with a special message from Kelly. It was the converted GPS numbers. They were transmitted to a special app on my phone that encrypted and decrypted text-based communications. I would have to enter a password and use the touch ID biometric scan of my phone to unlock and lock anything. I grinned and deleted the note I’d made of the numbers. I’d already had Wayne burn the note Rick sent me.
“Well, Ferny…” I said, getting to my feet and patting her on her… head? “Looks like I’m headed south again soon. Gonna take the boat down, since it looks like we’ll need one. You hold down the fort, okay?”
Having nothing else planned for the day, I decided that I’d head back to the ranch and take Rocky and Morgan to the dog park for a while. I’d need to start planning my sail as well. Although Slip’N’Out was well appointed, I’d still need to gather some supplies. I’d also need to gather a crew. Wayne and Keisha had expressed an interest in doing a long sailing trip. Like me, Wayne was a certified diver as was Keisha I was told. That might come in handy, although all things considered, I wasn’t sure I should let her come.
I headed down the hall and pressed for the elevator. The button didn’t light up. I pressed it several times and then groaned aloud. Although the Richardson Building was seventy years old, its lone elevator was less than ten. Yet somehow, the new lift conked out a few times per year. It had been nearly six months since the last time, so I had to suppose we were due.
I shrugged and pulled open the door to the fire stairs and stepped in. The moment I did, my internal alarm went off. Something was wrong.
It only took me a second to correlate the information being fed into my mind, but by the time I figured it out, I was too late. The florescent light on this landing had gone out, which could happen. However, when it did, an automatic emergency light would come on… and it hadn’t.
The pistol barrel pressed hard into my right kidney was the second clue that let me know that I’d walked into a trap.
34
“Miko.”
“Very good, Mr. Jarvis,” She replied from behind me in a voice that had almost no accent at all. “I was afraid you identified me at the gym.”
“Oh, I just figured you were checking me out,” I quipped.
The gun dug harder into my lower back, “Perhaps I was… please do not try anything heroic.”
I scoffed, “What makes you think I was even considering it?”
She laughed lightly, “Now that I know more about you than I did the last time we met… I am quite convinced of what you’re thinking. Please place your hands behind your back. I strongly recommend that you trust that I will pull this trigger if I must.”
I did as instructed. If the rumors I’d heard that day were even half true, I could be dealing with a killer, “I assume you aren’t here to kill me, or you wouldn’t be tying me up.”
“Quite correct,” The soft voice said from behind me as a heavy zip tie was applied to my wrists. “I do so enjoy dealing with intelligent people. Sit on the head of the stairs, please. You are a very powerful man and I don’t need any foolishness.”
Although the lights on that level were extinguished, there was enough from the floor below and above to provide dim illumination. Not so dim that I didn’t recognize the small and slim figure that descended the steps and turned to face me. She wore all black, with her raven hair pulled into a ponytail. In the tight jeans and long-sleeved blouse she wore, I could see a very lithe form. She was almost certainly fitter even than she appeared. I’d seen her naked at Walker’s house, of course… yet that had been a rather frenetic situation and she’d been a blur of activity then.
“Cross your ankles,” She ordered.
I did so and she zip tied them as well. Turnabout is fair play, I guess.
“Is this revenge?” I asked.
Her pretty face eased into a thin smile, “What have you done to me to warrant revenge?”
“It doesn’t have to be your revenge,” I stated. “You’re a mercenary, right? A gun for hire?”
She nodded, uncocked her pistol and slid it into a hip pocket, “Very good. I am, in fact. Yet I owe you a debt… a debt of gratitude. That is why we’re talking.”
“Oh?” I inquired. “Exactly what have I done for you to warrant gratitude?”
She smiled again but this time it reached her eyes, “You allowed me to get out of that situation with Walker, of course.”
I chuckled, “You didn’t need my help. You took care of that on your own.”
“You provided the catalyst,” She explained. “A long story… most of which is not germane. And you did try to help me. A complete stranger… I was touched.”
“Glad to have tried to help anyway,” I replied. “As I said, though, you saved yourself… although I suspect you didn’t need saving. Big Daddy was an assignment?”
“Something like that,” She said, clasping her hands behind her back. “As are you. However… I’m breaking protocol to talk to you this afternoon. To deliver some information.”
“Whose protocol?”
“Mine,” she replied. “I was hired by the man who started all of this. I was placed with Derrick Walker as a… liaison. I didn’t expect the… extra duties… but that’s
sometimes a part of my work.”
I suddenly felt a little wave of nausea ripple through my vitals. I felt pity for this young woman, “You… really were engaged in…”
“Sex acts with Walker and his wife,” She finished for me with absolutely no inflection. “Necessary… and not entirely unpleasant. However, he earned his fate.”
“I see.”
“No… you don’t,” She stated with that enigmatic smile again. “But that is all right. You don’t have to. Derrick Walker is the one who hired those two tweakers to dig up the graves and to plant the Indian jar on that property.”
“Yeah, figured that might be so,” I admitted. “Did he kill Proust?”
“No. I did that,” Miko stated. “On behalf of Walker’s employer. George Nolen.”
Even with all of my suspicions, it was still a shock. I opened my mouth yet could think of nothing clever to say for a moment until I thought to ask: “Did Nolen… did he have Walker send those goons to kill his own daughter?”
She chuffed disdainfully, “I would not put it past him… but no, Walker did that all on his own. That’s one reason he’s dead now. I was not just a liaison. I was also Nolen’s insurance policy. Walker crossed the line and he paid for it.”
“God help us…” I muttered.
“I’m sure you have many questions… yet I’m afraid I can provide few answers,” Miko stated. “I was only told, and I only wish to know as little as possible and still be able to achieve my mission.”
I drew in a breath to try and center my racing thoughts, “Why are you telling me all of this? I assume breaking confidence on your employer isn’t standard operating procedure for you.”
She stepped up until she was standing on the step where my feet rested. Even with me sitting two steps higher she was hardly taller. She smiled, “Oh, I expect to be repaid, Mr. Jarvis. You are now in my debt, and I collect on my debts. We’ll meet again sometime… at a time when I may need your help, or I may need information that you can provide. That’s the long-range repayment. For now, there’s but a small debt I wish to collect from you.”
I cocked an eyebrow, “Oh? And what’s— “
She was suddenly astride me, her small body pressed against my chest and her slim legs clenched around my waist and upper thighs with surprising force for someone so slight. Her nails dug into my shoulders and her mouth pressed to mine, hot, wet and eager.
She drew in a breath as her tongue probed between my lips and I felt her body writhe as she kissed me deeply. There was little I could do except possibly buck her off. Although considering the grip she had on me I doubted I’d be successful.
After nearly a minute, she pulled back and her large black eyes appeared as huge, depthless pools in the low lighting. Her breath was short and her smile Cheshire-like.
“What the hell was that?” I croaked.
“A down payment,” She said breathily. “I didn’t think you’d let me do that unfettered.”
I cleared my throat, “Why?”
“Is it so strange that I might be attracted to a large and handsome man?” She asked almost sounding coquettish. “I like American men. You’re so… virile.”
“Uh-huh.”
She chuckled softly and stood, “That’s part of it. I suppose that I just felt like I needed to… clear my pallet, so to speak. To wash away the memory of the last man who touched me. You, whether you actually rescued me… it doesn’t matter that I didn’t need rescuing at the time. You didn’t know that. I was touched. Now I must go… I have other missions to accomplish. I’m going to cut your wrists free but leave your ankles. I have no doubt you’ll free yourself in short order. Good-bye, Commander.”
She stepped past me and I felt a tug behind my back and my wrists were indeed freed. Even as I twisted around to see what she was doing, the fire door to the corridor was already swinging closed.
Miko was right. With my hands free, I was able to move down and get the plastic tie around my ankles under a relatively sharp corner of one of the metal treads in the fire stairwell and slice it off after a few frustrating moments. When I went back into the hallway, I was not even surprised to find that the elevator was once again operational.
I went home and did indeed take Morgan and Rocky to the dog park. We played for a while and then returned to my house where I fed and watered them.
Then I began to pack and load my Jeep. In a duffel bag I used for the purpose, I placed my M4 with three extra magazines, my fully-automatic AK-47 with three extra magazines, my Mossberg semi-auto twelve gauge with a box of bird shot and solid shot and a Colt Anaconda .357 Magnum I’d taken from a wannabe tough guy named Jeremy Stevens. I also packed a small bag with several changes of clothing. Then I loaded some new dive gear into the Jeep, which was rapidly filling up in spite of the Rubicon’s larger back seat.
After my experience diving on the U-2626 and using closed-circuit apparatus… as well as our extensive use of them in ICE training ops, I went out and purchased a couple of Revo3 rebreathers. Superior to standard scuba in every way, rebreathers are smaller, lighter, longer lasting and silent. Additionally, you need to decompress less and can stay down longer. Very handy in military operations and very expensive, too.
I called Lisa and when I got no answer, left a quick message that I was headed for Saint Pete and the boat. It was late afternoon and she was probably still in her meeting or reviewing documents or enumerating legumes or whatever people with business degrees did.
I then called Wayne and got him right away, “What up, blue eyed devil?”
I chuffed, “Oh, plenty chocolate thunder… you up for a sailing trip?”
“Already said we were in… when?”
“I’m headed down now,” I said. “Quite a story… we’re going to Marco Island, at least at first. We could leave tonight and get there by sunset tomorrow evening… or wait until morning and get there at night. All things considered, I prefer shoving off ASAP. I’ve got plenty of meat and frozen veggies on board. A few fresh veggies, some bread and eggs and we’ll be good until we reach Marco and can revictual.”
There was a pause, “Damn, Scott… you’re serious. Well, I sort of figured something might be up, so both Keisha and I are ready to go. We can meet you down there by eight at the latest. What’s the weather? How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Actually, there won’t be much wind for the next few days and what there is from the east,” I said. “So at best we’ll be motor-sailing… it’s about a hundred and thirty miles… so I figure twenty or twenty-one hours. As far as Keisha though… this is a working trip, brother. I need you as backup and things might get hairy once we’re there…”
“Yeah, but not on the boat, right?” Wayne asked. “And Keisha grew up on the water. She can stand a watch. Unless you’ve got Lisa coming and somebody else?”
“No… Lisa is going to drive down tomorrow,” I explained. “That way we’ll have a car. But okay… the real work isn’t going to be done aboard Slip’N’Out, which we might dock at the Marco Island Marina. She can hang out there or whatever… okay, bring her along.”
“What about gear?”
“Got it all. Weapons and a pair of rebreathers. I do have a couple of full tanks and extra gear aboard… but I don’t think we’ll need it. There’s a dive I want to do before we dock, if there’s time.”
“Okay… we’ll be there. I’ll grab some breakfast and lunch stuff once we’re in Saint Pete… what else is going on?”
“Christ, Wayne… its crazy. Sharon’s father is alive and behind all of this… or most of it… I’m going south to get the answers.”
He cursed, “My God… have you told her?”
I sighed, “No, I just confirmed it a few hours ago. Long story, which I’ll tell you at sea.”
We hung up and I was just getting onto I-4 when Lisa called me back.
“So what’s going on, baby?”
I filled her in, including my meeting with Miko. Her string of invective was a creative
blend of English and Spanish.
“So you’re leaving tonight?” She asked, sounding far less bewildered than I’d have thought.
“Yeah, Wayne, Keisha and me,” I explained. “So you can sleep at home tonight and then drive down to Marco Island tomorrow afternoon… if you want or if you’re not too busy.”
She seemed to think about that for a moment, “I can come… this job with CFC isn’t super time sensitive… what about Sharon?”
I ran a hand over my face, “I don’t know, Lisa… I just don’t know what to do about her. This whole thing has been traumatic enough… now to learn that her father is alive and may be the titular bad guy? How much more can she take?”
Lisa sighed heavily, “I know… but she also deserves the truth. If anybody does, she should know the truth. Maybe I’ll talk to her tonight. I think she’ll probably want to come with me tomorrow, especially if you’re going to search for Rick Eagle Feather.”
I laughed sardonically, “I doubt anybody could stop her. Okay… I’ll leave it to you. Use your girl powers on her. Maybe bring Juan as well, if he can get away. The more the merrier.”
“Be careful, baby…”
“It’s calm and warm out at sea,” I reassured her. “A very pleasant overnight is all we’re facing.”
She scoffed, “I’m talking about once you get down south.”
“Well, I’ll have the whole gang, including you, to keep an eye on me.”
The most unfortunate part of reaching the interchange between I-4 and I-275 in Tampa at six-thirty or so was the traffic. This area, where these two highways met and not far from where I-75 also intersected was very busy at rush hour. Add to this the mayhem of people getting on and off 275 near the Tampa International Airport just before the Howard Franklin Bridge and it could make what would’ve been a fifteen-minute segment of driving into a very unpleasant hour.
