Cayman Crackdown (Coastal Fury Book 18)

by Matt Lincoln

  Junior, in turn, sighed as he looked at the morose expression on Charlie’s face. Life had screwed the guy over several times before he was finally able to catch a break and turn it around. He could understand why the guy was naturally suspicious of people, but it didn’t do him any favors when it came to working with others.

  “You want to play some cards?” Junior asked him as he reached into his bag before pulling a worn deck out of it. That deck of cards had seen a lot of action in the past two years that they’d been working together. Though Junior tended to occupy his time on stakeouts with video games or his phone, Charlie had never been particularly tech-savvy, so something like a game of cards was more his style. As a result, the playing cards had long since become their fallback when things on the job got a little slow.

  “Sure,” Charlie replied.

  There were some seats toward the back of the boat, but there wasn’t a table to set the cards on, so in the end, they decided to just sit on the deck.

  “Blackjack?” Junior asked as he shuffled the cards with practiced ease.

  “Whatever,” Charlie replied with feigned disinterest. One of the perks of working in Las Vegas was that it was impossible to go almost anywhere without running into a casino. Even the restaurants and stores sometimes had little slot machines inside of them. As a result, they’d both gotten fairly good at gambling and playing card games.

  About twenty minutes later, Charlie was just about to win his fifth game in a row when a strong wind blew over the boat and scattered the cards around.

  “Crap!” Junior exclaimed as he scrambled to grab the cards before they could fly away, only barely managing to catch one before it blew over the side of the boat.

  “Whoa, it’s just a card,” Charlie laughed as he watched Junior reach out over the side of the boat just to grab it. “I’m pretty sure you can buy a whole new pack for a buck.”

  “Yeah,” Junior frowned, “but this one’s special. I’ve had it ever since I joined MBLIS. It’s been in my bag for every mission I’ve been on. It’d be such a bummer if I lost it.”

  Charlie shook his head teasingly. It seemed a little silly to get sentimental over an old pack of cards, but he could understand. With everything they went through on the job, small stuff like that was what kept them grounded.

  “Uh… is that boat coming this way?” Junior called over his shoulder. He was still standing by the edge of the boat where he’d caught the card.

  Charlie walked over to where he was standing to see what he was talking about.

  “It’s one of the Coast Guard boats, isn’t it?” Charlie asked as he squinted at the vessel. It was gray, with a thick orange band around the side like he’d seen on the other Coast Guard boats before they’d cleared out to give them room to work. He could still see one of them in the distance, and it looked like a similar ship to the one currently approaching them.

  “Are you sure?” Junior asked nervously as he hastily gathered the cards back into the pack before tossing them into his bag. “Why are they coming over here?”

  “Maybe something happened back onshore?” Charlie suggested though he didn’t feel confident in his answer. The only reason the Coast Guard would be approaching would be to deliver bad news. Otherwise, there wasn’t really a good reason for them to interrupt their work.

  Charlie continued to watch the boat as Junior suddenly moved past him and into the cockpit. As the boat got closer, he could just barely make out the words “Coast Guard” on the side of the boat, but for some reason, seeing those words didn’t actually assuage the wariness he felt.

  “Let’s see,” Junior mumbled as he reappeared at his side a moment later, a pair of binoculars in his hands. He looked toward the boat for a moment before pulling them away from his eyes. “It looks like a Coast Guard boat…”

  “But?” Charlie asked, hearing the hesitation in his voice.

  “I dunno,” Junior replied. “Something’s weird. Why didn’t we receive any kind of notice they were coming? Shouldn’t somebody have called us? They’re moving kind of slow, too. Don’t those boats usually go flying across the water?”

  “Let me see those,” Charlie muttered as he took the binoculars from Junior. With them, he could see more clearly into the boat’s cockpit. There were three men, as he’d suspected, and whoever they were, he seriously doubted that they were Coast Guard members. Two of them were wearing tank tops, while a third was clad in jeans and plain, if dirty, t-shirt. All three had heavy machine guns strapped to their backs.

  “Crap,” Charlie hissed as he pulled the binoculars away from his eyes.

  “What is it?” Junior asked with alarm.

  “I think we’re in trouble,” Charlie replied as he undid the safety clip on his holster. “They’re not wearing uniforms, and they’ve got guns. Either they’re the most casual Coast Guard unit I’ve ever seen, or something’s up.”

  Junior did the same and waited anxiously as the boat came to a stop just a few feet away. He had to fight the urge to pull his gun out of his holster at that moment. There was almost no chance that these men had good intentions, but he knew it would be foolish to draw his weapon preemptively. Even if they did mean harm, there was still a chance they might be able to diffuse the situation. Any possibility of that would be greatly reduced the moment guns were drawn, though.

  Charlie could see motion through the cockpit window before the door suddenly opened, and one of the men stepped out, the gun that had been strapped to his back noticeably absent.

  “Hello!” the man in the dirty t-shirt called as he walked over to the side of the boat nearest them. “I’m Officer Johnson with the Coast Guard. Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

  Like hell you are, Charlie thought to himself. The man looked like he’d just been in a bar fight, all scratched up and grimy. He also spoke with the slightest lilt as well, though his English was good.

  “I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding,” Junior replied calmly. “We’re with MBLIS. We’re investigating the attack that took place here yesterday. Our agency cleared it all with the Coast Guard. Maybe you just didn’t get word.”

  There was nothing accusatory about Junior’s tone as he spoke, but the threat was still there all the same. He was giving them a chance to leave. Thought it would be preferable to arrest those men, whoever they were, at the moment, it might be wiser to choose their battles. The two MBLIS agents versus three men armed with machine guns out in the middle of the ocean were not favorable odds.

  “Oh, of course,” the man replied with an exaggerated laugh. “You’re the agents. Well, I’ve got good news. The Coast Guard is taking control of the case back, so you can go.”

  Does he really expect us to believe that BS? Charlie sneered internally. The least he could do would be to come up with a more believable excuse to feed them.

  “That’s great,” Junior replied cheerfully. Charlie was happy to let him do the talking. The kid was great at being diplomatic and lying when it counted, at least. “Man, I’m glad. Sitting out here in the sun was such a pain. I don’t know why the Coast Guard even asked us to come to investigate. I’ll go get everything ready for us to go, Agent Hills.”

  Charlie watched as Junior moved quickly into the cockpit.

  “Hey, wait!” the man in the dirty shirt called out to him as he walked away.

  “Sorry, what did you say your name was?” Charlie asked in an attempt to distract him. “Johnson?”

  “Um, yes, that’s right,” the man replied, his voice tenser now than it had been earlier.

  “I was just checking,” Charlie grunted. “We meet so many people in law enforcement, know what I mean? It’s hard to keep track.”

  He knew he didn’t sound as convincing as Junior did, but he hoped that it would be enough to stall him while Junior did… whatever it was he’d gone to do. Presumably to call the other agents to get their asses back up here.

  “Hang on!” the man on the boat yelled just as he did. “What’s he doi
ng in there?”

  “Huh?” Charlie feigned cluelessness as he turned to look at Junior, who was bent over the control panel inside the cockpit, just visible through the clear window on the side. “I don’t know. He’s the boat guy. I barely know the back from the front of these things.”

  “¡Estan mintiendo!” one of the other men yelled as he stepped out of the cockpit, his arm held behind his back.

  Charlie tensed. This wasn’t good.

  “¡Hay equipo de buceo en su barco!” the man continued as he pointed toward the boat. “¡Hay más en el agua!”

  Charlie gritted his teeth. He had no idea what the man was saying, but judging from the way he was screaming, it probably wasn’t anything good.

  He chanced a glance over at Junior in the cockpit. Junior had the radio speaker in his hand, and he was saying something into it.

  “What was that?” Charlie asked the man on the boat calmly, more as a distraction than anything. He doubted they would tell him, but he needed to make sure they didn’t notice Junior calling for help.

  The man in the dirty shirt turned to look at him, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “Is there anyone else here with you?” he asked slowly. “In the water, perhaps?”

  Before Charlie could even answer, the man who’d yelled in Spanish suddenly pulled a gun from behind his back and aimed it at him.

  “Get down!” Charlie yelled before turning on his heel and diving into the cockpit. He barely made it to the deck before the man started shooting the boat up.

  Junior threw himself down as well, the speaker still clutched in his hand.

  “You need to come back up!” Junior yelled frantically into it. “We’re being attacked!”

  He dropped the speaker, and Charlie watched as it clattered to the ground beside him, intensely hopeful that his partner’s message had made it through.

  Charlie pressed himself against the side of the cockpit in an attempt to keep himself out of the line of fire. All around him, the bangs from the gun firing were mixing with the tinny sound of bullets striking metal as all the shots embedded themselves into the sides of the boat.

  “This is bad!” Junior yelled over the cacophony of noise. Normally, Charlie would have made some snarky remark about how obvious his statement was. Right now, though, he was too nervous to make any kind of quip.

  After a few seconds, the shots sputtered to a stop. They both moved at once, jumping out of the cockpit and shooting toward the men on the boat.

  Junior’s shot hit the cockpit of their boat, but Charlie’s landed perfectly, hitting the man square in the chest. He let out a pained grunt before stumbling over the side of the boat and into the water.

  The man in the dirty shirt yelled before rushing back into the cockpit.

  “He’s going back to get a gun,” Charlie warned. “Be careful.”

  They both got back into position right by the cockpit, ready to jump back inside. A moment later, the two other men came storming back out, guns held aloft.

  Junior and Charlie both fired immediately before either of them could get a shot in. The third man cried out in pain and dropped his weapon as one bullet struck him in the arm and another in the chest, but the man with the dirty shirt managed to evade the shots and fired back.

  Charlie swore as he dove back into the cockpit, dragging Junior with him. He closed his eyes as the windows above him shattered and rained glass down on both of them. That was close, but at least they were still alive.

  They waited until the firing stopped before slowly getting back onto their feet.

  Charlie peeked out from around the side of the cockpit, his gun gripped tightly in his hands. As he did, a blur of motion caught the corner of his eye, followed by a loud thump as the man landed on the deck of the boat.

  He lifted his gun at the same time that the man did.

  “You really want to try this?” the man sneered as he pointed the massive gun at Charlie. “You’ll be on the ground filled with holes before you can pull the trigger once.”

  Charlie clenched his jaw. He was right. They were in a standoff, and the suspect had the advantage. Charlie could only hope that Junior, who was still in the cockpit, would be able to think of something.

  “Hey!” the man yelled. “You hiding back there! Come out here, or I’ll kill your partner.”

  “Don’t!” Charlie yelled back. The moment he did, the suspect pulled the trigger, firing several shots into the deck of the boat.

  “Stop!” Junior yelled as he stepped out of the cockpit, his own gun in his hands and pointed at the suspect.

  “Good,” the man smiled wickedly. “Now, both of you, just stay still. You’re going to call your buddies back up here, and we’re all going to have a nice talk.”

  Charlie looked past him as he rambled on. One of the Coast Guard boats was still floating in the distance. Had they not heard the gunfire? He supposed it was possible. They probably wouldn’t have been on alert anyway if they’d seen the suspect’s boat and assumed it actually was a member of the Coast Guard.

  “Tell me what you’re doing here,” the man barked, pulling Charlie back into the present situation.

  “I told you,” Charlie replied slowly. “We’re investigating the attack on the ship.”

  “Okay.” He nodded nervously before biting his lip and muttering to himself in Spanish.

  “Are you connected with the pirates that attacked the ship?” Charlie asked flatly.

  “Shut up!” the man roared as he thrust his gun toward him. “Just shut up and let me think.”

  Charlie could only assume by his aggressive response that he must be. They probably didn’t realize that MBLIS had been called in to investigate. If they assumed it would only be the Coast Guard looking into it, then it would make sense why they’d shown up in that boat.

  “Tell me what that organization is!” the man suddenly demanded. “M-whatever it was!”

  “We—” Charlie began before something caught his eye. It was a shadow, moving slowly just out of sight of the suspect. He caught a flash of a wetsuit and turned his gaze back to the suspect before he could notice what he was looking at.

  “We investigate international crimes,” Charlie replied calmly in an attempt to keep the man’s attention as Agent Marston crept slowly toward the suspect from behind. Charlie had no idea when he'd gotten back onto the boat, but he wasn’t about to complain.

  “So?!” the man shouted. “You’re like the FBI or what?”

  “Something like that,” Agent Marston replied.

  The man jumped and spun around, but Marston punched him hard across the jaw before he could react. The man dropped the gun and stumbled backward.

  The moment he did, Charlie rushed forward to secure the gun as Agent Marston continued to fight with the suspect. He punched him twice more, once in the stomach, so hard that the man let out a strained gasp before falling to his knees. Junior rushed in then to assist Marston in getting the suspect’s hands cuffed behind his back.

  “Where’s Agent Holm?” Charlie asked as he set the gun down far away from the suspect.

  “On the other boat,” Marston replied as he stood up straight.

  “It’s clear over here!” Holm called from the deck of the fake Coast Guard boat. “Well, two bodies, but nobody alive. I’ll call for some backup.”

  Charlie let his shoulders sag with relief. He hadn’t realized until now just how tense he’d been for that entire fight.

  “Thanks.” He looked at Marston. “That was close. I wasn’t sure how we were going to get out of that one.”

  “No problem,” Marston replied with a smile. “Lucky your partner here managed to send us that distress call. We normally wouldn’t have come back up that fast.”

  “Who are these guys?!” Holm yelled from the deck of the other boat as he looked down at the bodies of the two men Charlie had shot.

  “Didn’t get as far as introductions,” Charlie grunted before looking at the man in the dirty shirt. “Ba
sed on their actions, though, I’d wager they have something to do with the pirates we’re looking for.”

  9

  Ethan

  I watched with concern as Holm rubbed at the back of his neck. He looked a little pale, and it was clear from the way he kept fidgeting and rubbing at his shoulders and neck that he was in pain.

  It had been a few hours since the fight on the boat. The suspect had been cleared by the doctor, and we were getting ready to interrogate him. We’d come back to the office in the meantime to rest after the dive and the stress of the fight, and I’d noticed that as time went on, Holm kept looking more and more unwell.

  “You sure you’re okay?” I asked him as I sat down next to him on the break room couch, a cup of coffee in my hands.

  “Hm?” He frowned at me. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

  “You look like crap,” I deadpanned before raising a skeptical eyebrow.

  “I said I’m fine,” he insisted as he took his hand away from his neck and sat up straight. “I’m just… sore from the fight.”

  “How?” I scoffed. “The fight was basically over by the time we got back to the boat. I’m the one who went head-to-head with the suspect. You just went and found the already dead bodies on the enemy vessel. What did you do to get sore?”

  “I just am,” he replied grumpily before tossing me a glare. That was unlike him. He was acting weird, which just made me all the more concerned.

  He leaned back against the couch again but suddenly stopped and blinked his eyes several times before sitting back up straight again.

  “Whoa, what the hell?” I muttered as I looked at him. He’d looked freaked out for a moment there, almost as if…

  “Holm, we came up pretty fast,” I insisted, genuinely concerned about how he was acting. “Faster than we normally would have if Chapman hadn’t called us for help.”

  “So?” he asked nonchalantly, though I could tell by the tone of his voice that he knew exactly what I was getting at.