Burn Notice: A Key West Thriller (Kelly Maclean Book 2)

by Nate Hawk

  “I could use some good news. I could use some good food too. Let’s call Swanson with the good news first. Then we can get some dinner and talk it over.”

  ***

  Chapter 24

  They crisscrossed the island and drove back over to the busy side, finding a parking spot near Mallory Square. It was still early so the square wasn’t packed yet with sun set seekers or those seeking tips for conducting their circus inspired acting. They noticed a brightly colored building off of Wall Street that seemed fun, which was great because they could really do fun about then. The atmosphere at Pepe’s was relatively timid to the island’s general standards, which again, was great because they knew they’d have to make sure they could talk comfortably without being overheard. They consumed a bowl of chips and salsa as the bartender was quick to prepare three top shelf margaritas. The chips and drinks were consumed at an almost rude pace as the famished warriors replenished their bodies.

  “So when Rick Quinn thought he was going to kill me, I found out what Congressman Swanson’s big secret is. It involves some background but it seems that we have plenty of time right now.”

  “I’ll drink to secrets,” Kelly said.

  “I’ll drink to anything, right now,” Owen quipped.

  “It’s a World War Two secret. You guys should get a kick out of it,” she promised. “So the textbook explanation of what happened to Hitler and his eventual wife, Eva Braun, is that they committed suicide in a bunker in Berlin. In 1945, after being defeated, the German war machine was in an all out retreat. Allied Army Groups were closing in from the west and the German’s archenemies, the Russians, were quickly closing in from the east. With death from a firing squad, hangman’s noose or something much more barbaric imminent, supposedly the two lovers made a death pact and killed themselves.”

  “Sure, we grew up hearing that,” Owen said. “However, there were a ton of rumors to the contrary within the Agency, but I digress.”

  “Well, that’s where this is going. The Russians got to Hitler’s bunker first. Since the war they have held some forensic DNA evidence from the bodies that they found. About ten years ago the result of the DNA testing was revealed. Simply stated, the remains found in the bunker were not that of Hitler or Braun. Although, there is of course a well represented argument for both sides of the debate.”

  “What does all of this have to do with Congressman Swanson?” Kelly asked.

  “I’m getting there and this is where it gets interesting… The most plausible rumor is that the bodies found were those of body doubles that Hitler and Braun had been using for years. Supposedly Hitler and Braun escaped with a group of high-ranking German officers via submarine,” she said, realizing that she had both men’s undivided attention. “The story is that they went to Argentina!”

  Kelly said, “I’ve been to Buenos Aires and I’m somewhat familiar with the country. I know it has a significant German population so perhaps it would have been a good place to hide.”

  Owen added, “Yeah, there have been several high ranking German officers that were discovered there, captured and charged with war crimes. The CIA has been involved with many cases over the decades.” Owen considered what he had said and decided to add, “both officially and unofficially.”

  “So here is how it relates to Swanson,” Megan said. “Recently archeologists discovered some Nazi artifacts in old ruins about ten minutes from Paraguay. There has been a lot of speculation that it may have been Hitler’s hideout. There was a man there of German descent who was about the same age as Hitler would have been. This man is believed to have lived there until his death in the early 1960s. There was a very limited amount of documentation on him or the life of solitude that he seemed to have lived. To make matters more complicated, nobody seems to know where Eva Braun may have gone.

  “But Congressman Swanson…?” Kelly asked.

  “Quinn claims that Congressman Swanson owns a large swath of property in Argentina. Apparently, he owns the land where the artifacts were found. Property records show that this tract of land has been handed down now three generations and it is possible that Congressman Swanson is the grandson of Adolf Hitler.”

  ***

  “Riley, somehow those three survived their run-ins with the CIA bastard that was blackmailing me. Now they say they’ve held up their end of the bargain and that we need to talk! Can you believe this?”

  “Sir, all due respect, if they’ve… uhm, neutralized this Deep Throat then how does that translate into a threat to us? Did they say anything about it?”

  “No. When that black son-of-a-bitch called he was all coy, kind of tongue-in-cheek. I don’t think they know Jack! In fact, I’ve got half a mind to cut contact with them and call my law enforcement contacts down there in Florida. I bet the Florida State Bureau of Investigation would love to have some inside information on what’s been going on down there in Key West!”

  “Sir, perhaps we should think this through a bit more,” Riley, the more cautious one of the two began. “Since we don’t know exactly what they know I think we should remain mum on the topic for now.”

  “Yeah, sure Riley. You know that man and his friends are looking to exploit my good character and hard earned contacts. Why if they have their way I’m sure my career will be over. Trouble! Nothing but trouble will come out of this Riley! You mark my words.”

  “Well, let’s be patient and see what they want. So far it seems they’ve only called to mention that they have held up their end of the deal. Let’s see where it goes. If they didn’t get any info out of Deep Throat, then we’ll just pretend as if we don’t know who they are. We’ll give ‘em the cold shoulder.

  “The cold shoulder, huh Riley? That son-of-a-bitch was acting way too smug to be a man without leverage.”

  “Well, Mr. Congressman,” Riley said, finding his courage. “I strongly recommend that we conduct no further action regarding this group until we hear from them next. Who knows? Maybe that’s the last we’ll hear of them!”

  “The last we hear of them? Sure, Riley… That’s funny! Now that you’ve got me laughing,” the congressman said, “tell me another joke!”

  ***

  The three finished up dinner with various thoughts and conspiracy theories about what the full details were of Swanson’s past and how much of it Rick Quinn had actually put together. He must have gotten most of it figured out if he had gotten one of the most sought after paintings in the world delivered to his doorstep.

  “There’s one thing that I haven’t told you two yet,” Owen admitted. “It’s this surprise that I’ve eluded to. Megan, you remember when I asked for your keys back in Boston so I could load up my things?”

  “Sure. I never would have given it much thought. What’d you do?”

  “Well, laying flat back there in the cargo area is a heavy duty protective case. It’s covered with a blanket and a few other items that I had. Do you want to have a look?”

  Megan shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t sure exactly where Owen was going with this. She pressed a button on her key fob that opened up the back and they crowded around. Owen undid eight fasteners that secured the airtight protective case around the painting. As he slid the top half off, the brilliant sheens sparkled at its onlookers.

  “When I realized that Rick Quinn was going to come after me because I’d figured out too much about the painting, I did something for insurance: financial insurance. I figured he would freeze my accounts and leave me without a penny so I came up with a plan to offset those effects. I had a contact that I know paint an exact replica of the Portrait of a Young Man and send it to me in Berlin. Now a pro would notice the difference but an untrained eye would not.”

  “It looks beautiful,” Megan said, wondering how much a beautiful duplicate like this was worth.

  “Wait 'til you hear what I did,” Owen bragged. “One night when Quinn was out I snuck into his office. I took the frame off of the real one and put it on the duplicate. Then I hung it back up on t
he wall. I put the real one in this case and shipped it to myself in Boston,” he said proudly.

  “You mean to tell me that this painting is Swanson’s original painting? It’s gotta be worth a ton of money!” Megan said. “You’re rich.”

  “I’m convinced it’s worth millions,” he said. “Tens of millions if it can be authenticated. But none of that matters now.”

  “Why is that?” Kelly asked in astonishment.

  “Because after we find out as much as we can on Swanson’s political dealings, we are going to give the painting back to him!”

  ***

  Chapter 25

  With the CIA kill team neutralized and with the new ID, Owen was a free man. His old accounts were still black listed but killing him wasn’t on any one else’s radar. He wouldn’t be using his old identity now anyway. Now he was Owen Bar, as in B.A.R.: Browning Automatic Rifle. He thought it was funny even if no one else knew or would care even if they did know. He couldn’t go back to his old address. He couldn’t pick up his car and bring it down to his new home state of Florida. In fact, even to see his own parents he was going to have to be extremely careful. And that was apparently when he had permission to travel out-of-state. He knew he was free of his previous problems but it felt to him like he was now just owned by someone else. Worse than being owned by some prick with the CIA, now he had lost the full use of his lifetime network of contacts and was owned by a mobster.

  Within all of the uncertainties there were also some certainties. Megan couldn’t stay down in Key West forever. She had contacts back in Boston counting on her, not to mention the Agency. She had left so abruptly and under complicated circumstances that she knew the quicker that she got back to Boston the better. She dropped off Kelly and Owen back at Kelly’s car and they said their goodbyes. There was more hugging than kissing. Megan had worked on and off with Owen for about ten years. They were close and they had a deep level of trust. Then Megan had gone off and let her heart loose to be with Kelly but the emotions were boomeranging back around to her. She knew it wasn’t practical but at the same time she wanted more. Kelly had quietly promised that he’d find a way to get back to her. He had no idea how he would do it though. One quick kiss and an even quicker glance away to hide her emotions and she was back in her VW and headed back north for the long drive home.

  Kelly and Owen had put their twenty thousand dollars together in a communal purse and decided to live off of it until they came up with a real plan to move forward. They had talked about being rather conservative with the money but then had realized that money wasn’t their biggest concern. Kelly had money and his accounts hadn’t been black listed. Plus Owen had the painting that he had secured. They realized that in the big picture they were doing ok. The biggest issue was their mob-ownership concerns. They knew they had to figure out how to get out of that one and quick. The second issue was what the two men would do with their professional lives. Kelly didn’t know it but Owen had an angle for that that he was working.

  They had considered finding a new place to stay that night; even getting separate rooms. Since both were former military they had learned to be fairly low maintenance. As they climbed up the steps without Megan the innkeeper shot them a dirty look like she couldn’t comprehend what exactly was going on in the room up there. Kelly winked at her and gave her sly little smile for her to interpret however she wanted. Then they ordered a pizza and planned how they would approach Swanson the next day.

  “Owen, we’ve got to find where Swanson’s strengths are so we can use them to our advantage.”

  “I’m already ahead of you Kelly. I’ve been googling Swanson’s name against those on the Congressional Committee on Homeland Security. It turns out that Swanson has made stump speech type appearances for a fellow congressman. Congressman Lester Campbell… The guy’s career was on the ropes due to some poor discretion in his personal life. Swanson allied with him and helped him rebuild a positive public image.”

  “So you’re saying the man owes Swanson?” Kelly asked rhetorically.

  “Maybe,” Owen admitted. “Or maybe Swanson owed Campbell prior to the PR help.”

  “Good point! I think we may have something with potential though.”

  ***

  Megan left the island in tears. She’d met a lot of tough guys since her husband had died. A lot. She didn’t know what it was about Kelly but it wasn’t his toughness that had twisted her chest and caused her to be reunited with emotions that she had once been familiar with. Maybe it was the way she felt when he had held her all night, refusing to move in the chance that that he may wake her. Or the intense feelings when she had killed for the same cause, three times now. Despite the anxiety it had caused, she knew that she would do it again without hesitation for Kelly. Besides, she had reasoned, those two were twisted killers that were prepared to do the same to her and those that she cared for. So what am I doing driving north outta here? she asked her self with torn emotions. About the time she was going to turn her SUV around and head back to the tiny island, reason set in. You’ve worked for the Agency for years. Injured operators are counting on people like you to be there when they need patched up. The tears continued.

  People like you…, she thought to herself. What does that even mean? She island hopped the daisy-chained Keys one right after another as she hopped back and forth from one emotional argument to the other. What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to go back to Boston and act as if the last few days had not happened? She figured Kelly needed a woman like her in his life as much as she needed a man in like him in her life. Was that all it was though? A theoretical thought based on practicality and convenience? She didn’t think so. Was she supposed to ignore her instincts that told her that she and Kelly could have everything together? When her husband had been killed she had dedicated herself to her work and shortly after, the Agency that he had worked for. She had selflessly devoted every ounce of time and energy that she could to patching up the men that were fighting in the shadows for the country that she believed in. She knew it was a bit statist but her love for her country had taken the place of the love that she once had for her husband. The thoughts of love towards her husband were almost platonic after all of the years since his death. The feeling was deep, nevertheless and she knew it would always be there.

  The feelings for Kelly were different. They were fresh and lively. The feelings added depth to her existence and she couldn’t help but wonder what a normal life with Kelly would be like. What if the healing process from her husband’s death was over? What if she had rebalanced the scales after failing to save him all of those years before? Had Megan prevented enough death now that she could start deciding what she wanted to do with her own life? She was still in her early thirties. The window for motherhood was still wide open and she began to allow herself to think about it for the first time in ten years. The realization that there could be a life other than working for the Agency seemed to dawn on her for the first time since she’d been hired as a nurse. She hadn’t allowed her mind to open that door. It had remained a distant dream that wasn’t to be after it had died along side of her husband on that Georgia roadway.

  But then the feelings of duty and self-sacrifice and being a team player came back and smacked her across her face in rage, shaming her for thinking only of herself. How dare she? After everything the Agency had done for her! She knew she had to keep driving to Boston.

  ***

  After an eventful trip to the Keys, Swanson was back in his Miami office. He was standing firmly in front of the mirror with his TaylorMade driver in his grasp, reliving the fun he’d just had on the links in Key West. Then he gazed out the window at the current lousy weather in Miami. The reality of being in the city seemed to plow over his imagination like a Oklahoma tornado tossing up a trailer park. Maybe I should have stayed a day longer and played one more round, he thought to himself before reenvisioning the black man that had threatened to shoot him in the back of his limo. At least that dark
ie didn’t want to know too many details about Deep Throat. Maybe that whole topic could finally die!

  Just then Riley rapped on the Congressman’s door and walked right in.

  “You sure are getting bold these days,” Swanson said condescendingly as Riley bounced across the room with purpose, not missing a beat.

  “Sir, we have a problem. Owen and Kelly seemed to have trailed us up from Key West. They are here and they are requesting a meeting.”

  “Oh, just shoo them away,” Riley said in annoyance. “They’re not my problem anymore!”

  “Well sir, actually… I believe it would be worth meeting with them. They gave you a message.”

  “I can hardly wait for you to reveal the details,” Swanson said sarcastically. “Did they bring up Argentina for God’s sake?”

  “No sir, they say they have a trade in mind.”

  “A trade for what? What do they have and what in God’s name do they want? Sounds like blackmail again. By God I’m not gonna stand for this!”