by Trevor Scott
Carlos Gomez was in meetings when Jake and Sirena got in, so they simply checked into the Ritz-Carlton again and waited for their meeting that evening with the Spaniard.
Sirena came from the shower fully dressed and ready to head out. She had transformed from her attire down in South America to her island sun dress—from badass with a gun, to chic cougar on vacation.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He hesitated and added, “I was just thinking that you clean up nice.”
“Bite me.”
“That was supposed to be a compliment,” he assured her.
“That’s like saying, ‘For a fat girl, you don’t sweat much.’”
Jake got up from the bed and took her in his arms. For a second she didn’t reciprocate. Finally, she hugged him and they held on to each other for a while.
She pulled back a little and said, “Where do we go from here?”
“It depends on what Carlos has for us,” he said.
“You know what I mean.”
Yeah, he suspected. But his old relationship was still a bit raw and unresolved. He still felt that he couldn’t get too close to anyone. Perhaps ever. Jake had discussed this with her since she came to Iceland to pick him up.
“What do you want?” he asked her, his intonation subdued and hopeful.
She pulled away further and sat on the edge of the bed. “I like being with you, Jake. It’s never a dull moment.”
“It can get a little intense at times,” he agreed. He thought for a moment and wondered if he should discuss the elephant in the room. He had no choice. “So, friends with benefits?”
“Sounds good to me,” Sirena said. “The sex is good.”
“Just good?”
“I didn’t want to give you a big head.” She held back a smirk. “Okay, the sex is amazing.”
He sat next to her and put his hand on her leg. “All right. Let’s keep it cool then. But I would like to spend a little normal time with you before we take on another Carlos Gomez adventure.”
“I still have my apartment outside of DC,” she said.
“I am not going to DC,” he said vehemently.
“I know. Me either. I just haven’t gotten rid of the place after retiring from the Agency. The only thing of importance there are my shoes and handbags.”
“And guns.”
“Those are stored in a safe deposit box.”
“No long guns?”
“Afraid not.”
“I still have a few,” Jake said. “Many were destroyed in the fire at my place in Calabria. But it’s smart to spread things around.”
She laced her fingers into his. “I would love to meet your daughter someday.”
“And my son?”
“I’ve met Karl.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“I spoke in front of his class while he was in training,” she said. “After the class I met him and told him you and I were close friends. Of course, we’re even better friends now. But he doesn’t need to know that.”
“What did you think of him?”
“Very bright. He graduated top of his class. But I had a feeling his DNA was strong.”
“Well. . .”
“Considering Toni Contardo, his mother,” she quipped.
He squeezed down on her hand. “You’re right, of course.”
She checked her watch and said, “We should get going. Are we really not going to turn over the DVDs to Carlos?”
They had gone right from the airport to downtown George Town and placed the DVDs in Jake’s safe deposit box.
“It’s probably the best thing to do,” Jake said. “Who knows what kind of perverted shit is on those DVDs?”
“You don’t trust Carlos?” she asked.
“I trust me. And I trust you. I do trust Carlos, but only to a certain extent. I think these people might have had something on him also.”
“Sexual stuff?” she wondered.
“Probably not. But something.”
“Well, only you and I know these DVDs exist,” Sirena said. “And only you have access to them.”
“Assuming those are the only copies. Kurt said they were still working on Tiffany at an undisclosed location. Hopefully they can get everything they need from her.” Jake checked his watch. “We need to get going. Carlos is waiting.”
“What do we tell him?” she asked.
“Only what we should. Don’t even mention the death of the penguin fucker.”
“His death will be out there soon enough,” Sirena said.
“I know. But Carlos should be happy enough with taking down the network. No need to muddy the waters with that man’s death.”
She gave Jake a critical stare. “You don’t think I should have killed the man?”
“I didn’t say that. I probably would have put a bullet in his brain. But, considering the situation, your method was probably better. Less mess and noise.”
She shook her head slightly. “I didn’t mean to kill him, Jake. It just happened.”
Jake pointed at her and said, “Don’t give it another thought. The man exploited dozens of young girls.”
“And penguins.” She couldn’t hold back a smirk.
“Right. There are some in this world who would find that a much greater crime. Let’s go. The car should be downstairs waiting for us.”
The same white Cadillac SUV was waiting out front. And the same large black man opened the door for them before climbing behind the wheel and driving off.
“How was your trip?” the driver asked.
Jake considered the man again, assessing the entire package, from his physique to his accent. “How long have you worked for the Agency?”
The driver’s eyes shifted quickly in the rearview mirror. “Sir?”
“You heard me,” Jake said.
“I’ve been a driver for a short while,” the man said. “But I was a taxi driver in Jamaica for a number of years.”
“Cut the shit,” Jake said. “I’m guessing you’re from northern Florida or southern Georgia.” He pulled out his phone and added, “I could call the DCI and confirm my suspicions.”
In the silence, Sirena put her hand on Jake’s leg.
Finally, the driver said, “That won’t be necessary.” He had lost his fake Jamaican accent. “How did you know?”
Jake smiled. “I knew from the first sentence when you picked us up at the airport. So, where are you from?”
The driver shook his head. “Jacksonville.”
Sirena squeezed down on Jake’s leg again, a smile on her face.
Now for the hard part, Jake thought. “Why are you spying on Carlos Gomez?”
No answer. So, Jake took out his phone and took a photo of the driver. Then he typed in the number for the private phone of the CIA director, sending the image, along with a quick query. Almost immediately he got a response back from the DCI saying he would look into it.
“The DCI said you need to brief me,” Jake said. A little lie.
The driver shook his head. “I was briefed that you were good friends with Bradford.”
Jake waited for the man as they cruised along the sea, the lights of businesses shining off the water.
“We’re not looking into Gomez,” the driver finally said. “Just some of his associates.”
“Such as?”
“I can’t elaborate,” the driver said. “You’ll have to get that from someone higher up the food chain than me.”
Jake wasn’t sure if it mattered, but perhaps the Agency was also looking into political corruption when it came to foreign involvement. Usually that was the responsibility of the FBI, though.
In a few moments the driver pulled into the marina parking lot, but he kept the engine running and the AC cooling them.
As Jake was about to leave, the driver said, “We’re on the same side here.”
Jake said, “That’s where you’re wrong. You work for the government; I work for myself.”
&n
bsp; Technically, Jake also worked for the billionaire Carlos Gomez, but Jake only took on those cases he wanted to complete. Gomez never required Jake to do anything. The minute that happened Jake would retire.
Jake and Sirena got out into the hot night air and strolled toward the pier and the massive yacht owned by Carlos Gomez.
When Jake was within fifty yards of the yacht, he saw the first flash and instinctively went for his gun. Sirena did the same.
34
Jake moved down the pier with Sirena right at his heels. More flashes ahead, followed now by loud shots returning fire from the yacht.
He could see a couple of dark figures on the pier ahead. Two moved swiftly and ran up the gangway.
More flashes and gunfire.
“When we get aboard,” Jake said, “let me move inside. You hang out and watch our six.”
“Roger that.”
More shots aboard the yacht.
Jake rushed up the gangway and stepped over a dead body outside the passageway door that led from the stern lounge area into the bar just inside. He checked for a pulse. Nothing. It was one of the billionaire’s security detail.
As Sirena came up to him, she turned back toward the pier and aimed her gun at the pier behind them.
Jake shook his head at her.
Shots fired inside the yacht, followed by the cough of silenced guns.
Suddenly a salvo of bullets peppered the side of the yacht, forcing Jake and Sirena to hit the deck. During a pause, Sirena found a spot along the gunnel and returned fire in the general direction of the flashes.
“Go,” Sirena yelled at Jake as she started a slow fire toward her target.
Jake used the cover to get inside the yacht. Luckily he knew his way around the vessel, having been aboard many times. Only a few low lights along the passageways gave him any idea where he was as he made his way forward through a berthing area. He came across another body. Another former Carlos Gomez bodyguard. How many more crew members would be aboard? The yacht crew might have the night off. That would leave two more security guards and perhaps his personal stewardess.
More shots ahead.
As Jake went through the next hatch, he came immediately upon a man laying against the bulkhead bleeding in the gut. The man raised his silenced gun, but Jake was faster, shooting the man in the chest and the face.
Jake’s heart raced as he heard Sirena at the stern firing her Glock. But the other guy must have had a submachine gun, because he was really laying down some lead.
When Jake got to the next hatch, he hesitated for a second. Sirena was still shooting. But Jake could hear talking ahead.
You’ve gotta move, Jake. Carlos is probably locked in his stateroom ahead and the men were trying to figure out how to breech the door.
He heard repeated coughing of silenced guns. That was all Jake needed to know. He rushed through the hatch, found his targets and started firing.
Both men were surprised to see Jake, but neither man had a chance to aim their guns toward him before Jake’s bullets hit the men hard, with blood spurting immediately from multiple wounds and the men crashing to the deck. Jake continued to fire until his slide stuck back. Then he replaced the empty magazine with a fresh 17-round replacement and released the lock, slamming a round into the chamber.
Jake stepped down the passageway and hesitated at a third bodyguard. This man was still alive, but barely.
Yelling as loud as he could, Jake announced that he had killed the gunmen. Although he wasn’t sure if there were more aboard.
Sirena was still exchanging fire with the man firing the submachine gun.
“Jake, is that you?” It was Carlos Gomez from inside his stateroom.
Jake moved closer so Carlos could see him in the peep. The stateroom door was full of holes, but the lock had held.
He could hear Carlos trying to unlock the door.
“The lock won’t open,” Carlos said.
“Stand back,” Jake said. Then he slammed his foot against the lock area. The door held. “Try it now.”
This time Carlos was able to get the lock to release, and he opened the door. The billionaire came out and gave Jake a huge hug.
“Thank you, Jake.”
But their moment was short lived, since Sirena was still firing from the stern.
“Is that Sirena?” Carlos asked.
“Yes,” Jake said. “I need to go help her. How many crew were aboard?”
“I let the crew off tonight.”
“Including your stewardess?”
“Yes.”
“How many security?”
“Three men.”
“They got them all,” Jake said. “Your man down there is injured but not dead.”
“I’ve already called the local police,” Carlos said.
Suddenly, Jake realized that the shooting had stopped. “Get back in there and lock yourself inside until I call your cell.”
Carlos nodded and immediately shut the door.
Jake ran aft. He stopped to check on the injured bodyguard. But now he too was dead. So, Jake continued aft, rushing through the passageways until he got to the outside stern lounge.
Sirena was sitting against the port gunnel.
“Are you all right?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, we got lucky. Our friend from the Agency, the driver, came up behind the gunman and took him out.”
Jake glanced out onto the pier and the large black man waved at him, pointing at the gunman. Then he shared a glance with Sirena as sirens approached the marina.
“How is Carlos?” Sirena asked.
“Shook up but unharmed.”
“We should get out of here.”
“No. Carlos will cover for us. Let’s go talk with him.”
He helped her to her feet and they stepped over spent brass as they made their way back to Carlos Gomez. The billionaire opened his stateroom door for them and they closed and locked it behind them. They would have to get their story straight, which would not be difficult considering the attack on Carlos and his floating home. The Caymans catered to the rich, so the local government would likely do anything to keep this shooting to nothing more than a robbery gone bad. But it was turned back by vigilant private security, with the backup of the local police.
“What happened?” Jake asked, his eyes concentrating on Carlos, who was pacing back and forth.
Carlos stopped and swung his arms around. “We were attacked.”
“This wasn’t a robbery,” Jake assured his friend. “This was a hit.”
Carlos said nothing. But Jake knew that Carlos also knew this.
“You brought me into this,” Jake said. “We’ve brought down the sex ring with young girls.” Of course, he had no intention of mentioning that he was in possession of the DVDs.
Shaking his head side to side, Carlos said, “That’s just part of the network, Jake. The sleazy leverage part. But this goes much higher than that.”
Sirena sat back on the bed, looking confused.
“What do they have on you?” Jake asked.
Carlos turned quickly toward Jake. “I told you, this is more complex than we first thought.”
“What do they have on you?” Jake repeated.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Carlos finally said, “It’s business related, not sex related.”
“Good,” Jake said. “So you didn’t fuck a penguin?”
Carlos was confused now.
“Never mind,” Jake said. “What kind of business leverage did they have on you?”
“Money transfers to politicians.”
“For favorable legislation,” Jake assumed.
Carlos shrugged. “It’s the nature of business.”
“Right. You sure as hell don’t give them money for their elegant speeches. Are we talking about American companies?”
“American, European and South American,” Carlos said.
“Wow, you like to spread it around.”
“I was opening markets. You give a
little and get a lot.”
Jake knew that was how business worked, but he sure as hell didn’t have to like it. He pointed toward the door and said, “Who hired those assholes to kill you?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Carlos said, an air of defeat in his voice.
Sirena gave Jake a shift of her head toward the passageway. He heard the men coming as well. The Cayman police had come aboard and were finding the dead bodies spread all over the decks.
“Do you want us to find out who did this?” Jake asked.
“Not right away,” Carlos said. “I will pull back to an undisclosed location and beef up security.”
“You have your suspicions,” Jake said.
Just then the police were outside pounding on the stateroom door.
Carlos headed to the door to open it.
“Wait,” Jake said. “What do you want us to do?”
“Hold tight here at the Ritz-Carlton. My crew will remain here to patch up the yacht. I’ll be taking the jet back to Spain. Then I’ll send it back here to pick the two of you up and bring you anywhere you want to go.”
Jake looked at his gun, along with the Glock in Sirena’s hand.
“Don’t worry,” Carlos said. “I’ve got this covered. This was just a robbery. The two of you are the only survivors of my security detail.”
“There’s one problem,” Jake said. “The driver you hired was also involved with the shooting.”
“He was also hired as a security member,” Carlos said.
“He’s with the American CIA,” Jake revealed.
“I had my suspicions he was not quite right,” Carlos said. “His background was too perfect.”
Jake put his gun away in its holster, covering it with his large shirt.
The pounding on the door increased.
Carlos played his part perfectly. Luckily, one of the men outside the door was the police officer Jake had confronted days ago—the man who had followed him in the Jeep and had been moonlighting for Carlos Gomez. This man personally escorted Jake and Sirena back to the white Cadillac SUV, where the Agency officer waited to take them back to their hotel.
As they drove back to the Ritz-Carlton, Jake glanced out the window at the lights of the city reflecting off the sea. He had a feeling this case was far from over, but they had to take a moment to rejoice in the fact that they had secured the release of dozens of young girls being sold into sex slavery. They had taken down a radical man who believed that aliens were playing puppet masters to all humans. And Sirena had choked out a penguin abusing pervert with a patent pending fornicating harness. Yeah, they could take some time at the Ritz to be pampered. But where would Jake go next? He had no home.
