Bluewater Drone: The Eleventh Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 11)

by Charles Dougherty

  "Oh, Simon was great; he used the radar and found the yacht with no trouble at all. We got within range, and he set up some fishing rods for cover in case they spotted us. We were trolling back and forth, and everything was fine. Blaine flew the drone around Platinum Odyssey and got some great footage until he made a run directly over the deck."

  "What happened then?" Liz asked.

  "Some man on deck spotted the drone. About the time I saw him point at it, Blaine took it down for a close-up of some girls who were sunbathing nude around the swimming pool."

  "I thought, you know, they might be starlets or something," Blaine said. "Those are the kinds of shots that sell for big bucks, if any of the girls were big names."

  "Were they?" Liz asked. "Big names? I can see where that might make a juicy story if you could put Strong in the middle of it."

  "Right you are," Mindy said, "but we'll never know. While Blaine was hovering over the girls, the man who pointed at the drone came back with a shotgun and blew it right out of the air."

  "I guess he thought you were invading their privacy," Dani said. "I can sort of understand that reaction. Famous people must get tired of that kind of thing."

  "Yeah," Blaine said. "It's not the first time something like that's happened. That's for sure. But it seemed a little extreme."

  "Especially when a bunch of armed men got in a big dinghy and came after us," Mindy said.

  "They were armed?" Blaine asked, his voice rising in alarm. "You didn't mention that. She was using the only pair of binoculars," he added, seeing the question on Liz's face.

  Liz nodded. "So, what did they have to say?"

  "Blaine told Simon to haul ass," Mindy said, "and he did. We outran them. His boat was practically flying."

  "Did they get close enough to identify his boat?" Dani asked.

  Mindy shook her head. "No. Even with the binoculars, I couldn't make out any kind of detail on their boat once we were moving, so I'm sure they couldn't see us any better. The ride was way too rough, and we left them in the dust in a few minutes."

  "When they were climbing into the boat, were you able to see what kind of weapons they had?" Dani asked. "How many men were there?"

  "Six, I think. They were wearing black clothing, like SWAT teams wear. They had some kind of rifles. but I don't know one from another."

  Dani nodded. "Sounds serious. Just as well you outran them. How'd Simon take all of that?"

  "He didn't seem too troubled by it, oddly enough," Mindy said. "It was almost like he was used to being chased like that. I asked him why his cousin had such a fast boat for fishing, and he said something that made me think maybe his cousin was a part-time smuggler."

  Dani smiled. "There is some of that. I don't know his cousin, though, so I can't say."

  "Drugs?" Blaine asked.

  "Sometimes, but that's usually on a larger scale than a boat like that would support. Small timers run all kinds of mundane things like tobacco and alcohol. The tax structure in some of the islands is such that if you can get your hands on duty free goods, it can be lucrative to smuggle dumb stuff like household appliances, even."

  "How about a new drone?" Blaine asked.

  "Are you serious?" Liz asked.

  "Maybe; we'll miss it. Depends on what it would cost."

  "Well, since we're a yacht in transit, we can probably get one shipped in duty-free. You won't have to smuggle it in. Figure out what you want to do, and I'll check on it for you. I'll need the price and description to find out. A catalog number or something like that will probably work, if you can order it from an online retailer who ships internationally."

  "Hey, that would be great," Blaine said.

  "There's one other thing, on the subject of Simon," Mindy said.

  "What's that?" Liz asked.

  "He said another cousin — a dentist, I think — was fishing along the mangroves in Nonesuch Bay yesterday afternoon. He seems to have a lot of cousins, I noticed."

  "Yes. He knows everybody. It's hard to tell what the blood relationship might be in any particular case," Liz said. "'Cousin' is sort of a generic term for 'almost like family,' with Simon. What about his cousin, the dentist?"

  "He saw two cops drag a bloody, unconscious man to the edge of the water and hand him off to a bunch of men in a big dinghy."

  "The man who attacked me, almost certainly," Dani said. "Did he say anything else?"

  "His cousin thought the men in the dinghy were speaking Russian," Blaine said.

  Dani and Liz exchanged glances. "Interesting," Dani said. "Russian speakers are a little unusual down here, but not really remarkable. What prompted Simon to mention this?"

  "He was asking about the yacht. When we told him about Strong making a movie, he made the connection to your question a couple of days ago. It kind of went from there. When we told him the owner of the yacht was a rich Russian, he told us about what his cousin saw."

  "Well, sorry your day didn't go the way you planned," Liz said. "Let me know about the drone."

  "I will," Blaine said. "I'll go online in a few minutes. Are there some islands that are easier than others when it comes to that sort of thing?"

  "Yes, a little bit, but not that you should worry about, unless you're ready to go sailing anyway," Dani said.

  "Hold that thought," Mindy said. "We need some more video of sailing, and we were wondering if you'd be willing to teach us to handle the boat."

  "Certainly," Liz said. "Any time you're ready."

  "While you're on line," Dani said, "Could you please email me that video clip of the attack? And any stills that you have of the attacker?"

  "Sure. For your scrap book?"

  "I want to send them to a friend who has some law enforcement connections, to see if he can get an i.d. for that man. Our email address is on that little placard over the chart table."

  "On my way. I got a couple of decent shots of the guy, just as he walked through the door onto the patio."

  Chapter 18

  "You're oversteering a bit," Liz said, as Mindy moved the helm back and forth. Liz sat on Mindy's right side and Blaine sat to her left, absorbing everything that Liz said.

  "You said I should head north for a while, but the compass won't stay still, no matter how much I steer," Mindy said. "Every wave knocks me off course several degrees to the west, and when I turn back to the east, I overshoot. I had no idea it was this tough to steer."

  "You're doing okay on the course. We just need to head generally north until we round the shallows along the east side of Antigua; you don't have to hold the compass dead on north. Try to feel what the boat's telling you. Take your hands off the helm for a minute and watch what happens."

  Mindy dropped her hands in her lap and watched the helm as it turned slowly from side to side through an arc of about 15 degrees. "It looks like it's steering itself," she said.

  Liz smiled. "Vengeance has what's known as a well-balanced helm. She'll almost sail herself under conditions like this. When a wave knocks her off course to the west, the angle of the sails to the wind changes, and the main and mizzen will both tend to push her bow back to the east."

  "The compass is swinging back and forth, though," Blaine said.

  "Yes," Liz said, "but if we've got the sail trim right, the average of the swings will put us on a northerly course."

  "So I don't really have to steer, then?" Mindy asked.

  "Well, not much, but you do need to keep an eye on things and make some minor corrections every so often. The wind's not perfectly constant in either strength or direction, and the waves are a little irregular. Your job is to make up for that."

  "Okay," Mindy said. "It looks like we've wandered around to where we're pointing to the east of north more often than to the west of north, now. Should I turn us back?"

  "Yes, but don't think of it as turning," Liz said. "The trick to steering is to feel the pressure from the rudder coming through the helm and keep the pressure constant. It's nothing like driving a car."
/>   Mindy frowned, and Liz said, "Put just the least bit of pressure on the top of the helm from left to right, but not enough to see it turn." She watched Mindy for a few seconds. "Good. Can you feel the pressure?"

  Mindy nodded. "Yes."

  "Glance at the compass," Liz said.

  "Wow! I didn't think I really did anything, but we're back on course."

  "Yes, concentrate on that feeling in your hands on the helm," Liz said. "It's more like guiding a partner on the dance floor than it is like steering a car. We're on what's called a beam reach, right now. That means the wind is coming from a right angle to our course. There's not as much pressure on a beam reach as on some other points of sail, but the idea is the same, no matter your angle to the wind."

  "Let me try," Blaine said.

  "Sure," Mindy agreed, taking her hands off the helm as Blaine gripped it. She and Liz shifted to the starboard by a couple of feet so that Blaine could sit squarely behind the helm.

  Liz watched him for a minute, nodding her approval. "You've got it, Blaine."

  "Well, I got to watch and listen. It is a lot like dancing. It takes just a light touch. Amazing."

  Liz smiled. "I've been sailing for as long as I can remember, and it's still magic."

  "Dani has, too, I guess?" Mindy said, looking at Dani as she sat on the leeward side of the coachroof, about halfway to the bow, reading on her iPad.

  "Yes. She's got a lot more sea time than I do; she worked as paid crew on her father's yachts on her school breaks from the time she was in her early teens."

  A few minutes passed in comfortable silence, and Blaine said, "She looks intent on whatever she's reading."

  "It's the script to that movie. Kev Strong emailed it to her yesterday," Liz said.

  "Do you think she wants to do that?" Mindy asked. "She must be flattered that he asked her."

  Liz shrugged. "It's hard to know, with her. She's curious about it, but she has a suspicious nature. I don't think she trusts him, particularly."

  "So she's not going to fall for that, 'Come with me, little girl; I'll make you a star,' line, then?" Mindy asked, with a chuckle and an exaggerated leer.

  Liz laughed. "Not likely. She has an impulsive streak, but it doesn't run that way. Besides, we've got a charter business to run."

  "A chance like that doesn't come by very often," Blaine said.

  "It sure doesn't," Mindy agreed. "I'd hate to think that she'd pass up an opportunity like that out of a sense of responsibility to us. We'd cope; we could help you sail Vengeance if she decided to try being in the movie. That would make a cool show for us, actually."

  "Dani's doing what she always wanted to do," Liz said. "We both are, or we wouldn't be here."

  "If I had a chance to become a movie star, I think I'd have to give it a shot," Mindy said. "Even though I'm happy doing what we do."

  "Dani's her own woman," Liz said, giving Mindy a long look. "She'll work out what she wants and figure out how to get it. She always does. I just don't think she's interested in either Strong or in being a movie star."

  "Well, let her know we're flexible," Blaine said.

  "I will, if it comes to that," Liz said. "Are you two comfortable enough with steering the boat for me to go below and start lunch?"

  "I think so," Mindy said.

  "Yeah, but how do we get to Barbuda?" Blaine asked.

  "It's that smudge on the horizon to the north," Liz said. "We're a couple of hours away, at this speed, but I'll be back up in plenty of time. Once we're well past the shallows off Antigua, we'll ease the sheets and fall off a bit to head for the west side of Barbuda and miss the reefs along the south coast, but don't worry about that. If you need us, just call out and Dani and I will be right with you."

  "All right," Mindy said, a grin spreading over her face. "We've got it!"

  ****

  "What's new in the movie business, Vinnie?"

  Vinnie squirmed under the old man's scrutiny. He knew that the news about the woman wouldn't make the Don happy. "The broad left this morning, Don Petrillo," he finally said, "but we'll — "

  "Left! The hell do you mean, she left? You told me yesterday we were gonna ride her hard. Millions of dollars, you said we were gonna bill for her. The star of the fuckin' show, and she didn't know shit about the business, didn't have any idea how much money she was worth. What's Strong got to say about that?"

  "I, uh ... " Vinnie felt the beads of sweat pop out on his forehead and run down into his eyebrows. "I haven't been able to talk with him about it yet. He'll be callin' this afternoon. I can't just pick up the phone and — "

  "Where'd she go? I thought you had people watchin' her."

  "I got two sets of people, but — "

  "Where, Vinnie?"

  "In Antigua. I — "

  "She's in Antigua? Then whaddaya mean, she left?"

  "No. The people watchin' her are in Antigua. She sailed her boat out into the ocean this mornin', early."

  "I thought you had people on that charter boat. What the hell are we payin' for a fuckin' charter yacht for, if they ain't keepin' track of her?"

  "I haven't been able to reach the people on the boat. It was the ones ashore told me she'd left."

  "Why the hell can't you reach the ones on the boat, Vinnie?"

  "They ain't answerin' the phone. I checked up on it, and cellphones don't work out in the ocean when you get too far from land."

  "Ten grand a fuckin' week for the yacht and you can't get in touch with them? Don't gimme that shit, Vinnie. They got radios on them yachts. I seen 'em in the movies."

  "I checked on that with the charter company, Don Petrillo. Their boat's only got some kinda radio that's good for, like, 25 miles, or somethin'."

  "This is bullshit, Vinnie. Why can't you call that asshole Strong? Why you gotta wait for him to call you?"

  "Remember, Don Petrillo, somethin' went wrong with his encrypted phone, and he's havin' to use a cellphone. He used the code words that mean it ain't secure. If I go callin' him, the Russians are probably listenin'."

  "Use your fuckin' imagination, Vinnie. Call him and make up some bullshit story and ask him how it's goin' with her. Work him around and see what the fuck he says."

  "I guess I — "

  "You guess. Here." The Don opened his center desk drawer and pulled out a cellphone, pushing it across to Vinnie. "Call him, right now. On the fuckin' speaker."

  "Is this phone clean? I — "

  "Don't insult me, Vinnie. You think I ain't savvy enough to keep burner phones around? Call him, before I get pissed off."

  Vinnie dialed the phone and switched it to speaker mode, putting it down on the Don's desktop and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

  "Hello, this is Kev Strong."

  "Hey, Kev, it's me," Vinnie said.

  "What's up?" Strong sounded surprised.

  "I wanted to check something' with you on Ms. Berger's union card. You are still planning on her for Cassie, right?"

  "Yes. What do you need?"

  "Ah, residence address, social security, that kinda basic stuff, you know."

  "No problem," Strong said. "I should have it for you in the next day or two."

  "Can you call her?" Vinnie read the Don's scribbled question from the notepad the old man stuck under his nose.

  "I could, but that might mess things up; it's like catching a fish. She's chewing on the bait right now; I have to let her make the next move, or it might scare her off."

  "I don't understand," Vinnie said. "Chewing on the bait?"

  "She's reading the script. She'll be calling me tomorrow so we can set up a time for her to come out to Platinum Odyssey for an audition. I'll get the info from her then, okay?"

  "You sure you're going to hear from her tomorrow?"

  "Yes. We're in touch by email."

  "How come not by cellphone?" Vinnie read from the notepad.

  "Cellphones don't always work when you're out in the ocean. She's got charter guests, aboard, re
member?"

  "Yeah but what's that got to do with her cellphone not working?"

  "She has to take them sailing whenever and wherever they want. So you never know if the cellphone's going to work."

  The Don was nodding.

  "Okay," Vinnie said. "I'll just wait for you to call me tomorrow, then, if you're sure she's going to do it."

  "Talk to you then," Strong said. "She's going to go for it; I'm 100 percent sure. You'll get your percentage; don't worry."

  Don Petrillo picked up the phone and laughed, his demented, high pitched cackle — the one that had made Strong lose control of his bladder in the warehouse. He disconnected the call and dropped the phone back in his desk drawer.

  "Did you put the P.I. to work on the broad?"

  "Yes, Don Petrillo. I should hear from him this afternoon."

  "Let me know, Vinnie. Get outta here and do some fuckin' work for a change."

  ****

  "Anton's pretty sure he found the instruction manual for the drone," Greg said. "It covers several different models, but they've all got the same basic capabilities."

  "And?" Danilov asked.

  "They record video and stills on an SD card in the drone — HD quality."

  "In the drone," Danilov said. "So when he shot it down, the card was lost. That's a relief."

  "Well, yes and no. It also has the capability of streaming video to the remote. But it's not HD; it's a lower quality, just so the operator can tell what's being recorded."

  "Shit," Danilov said. "How much lower?"

  "We don't know. It depends on the quality of the connection and the speed of the display device."

  "Display device?"

  "The manual said you could use a Smartphone or a tablet for the display," Greg said.

  "Tablet? You mean like an iPad?"

  "Right."

  "Could they have been recording the video on an iPad?"

  "Yes."

  "Damn it," Danilov said. "We don't know who they were, and we don't know whether they got usable video."

  "That's true," Greg said, "but all they really got is some shots of Platinum Odyssey, and maybe the girls sunbathing."

  "Yeah," Danilov said. "That's what worries me."