Cayman Crackdown (Coastal Fury Book 18)

by Matt Lincoln

  Marco had gone silent, and his face had drained of color once more. He was staring down at his hands on the table, deep in thought.

  “You know,” Hills went on casually, “the best way to get back at a guy like that would be to make sure he ends up paying for everything he’s done. He used you as his fall guy to take the blame for all the things he did. Isn’t it about time that karma caught up with him?”

  For a moment, there was only silence, and I was worried that Hills might have seriously screwed up and caused the suspect to withdraw into himself.

  “Yeah,” Marco replied finally, his voice quiet as a mouse.

  “Good,” Hills replied, his voice smooth as honey. “So, just tell us about him—who he is and where he is. We’ll go get him and make sure he pays for everything he put you through.”

  “But I…” Marco mumbled. “I don’t know where he is. Or what his real name is. I’ve only seen him a few times. He’s just ‘Viper.’ I… I don’t know anything else about him.”

  There was a stunned expression on Marco’s face. It was as though speaking the words out loud had broken whatever rose-colored glasses he’d been looking through, and he’d finally realized that the man he’d so admired was really just a manipulative monster.

  “Well, that’s disappointing,” Hills grumbled, his face and voice back to their normal indifference. The switch was so sudden that it almost gave me whiplash. He turned to look at me, clearly unimpressed by Marco’s response. “You have anything left to ask him?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” I replied as I turned to look at Marco, who looked shell-shocked. He was staring down at the table again, his eyes wide and his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Sit tight. Someone will be in here in a minute to take you back to your cell.”

  I got up and turned to leave the room, with Hills trailing closely behind me. As we left, I made sure the door was shut and securely locked before turning to look at Hills, Holm, and Chapman.

  “Geez, can you say overkill, Charlie?” Chapman asked as he turned in his chair to look at him. “I think you caused his brain to short-circuit.”

  He was looking through the two-way glass to where Marco was still sitting in the exact same position we’d left him, still staring blankly at the table.

  “I was hoping he’d tell us more about Viper if I forced him to realize he was just a pawn,” Hills grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “He would have, too, if he actually had known anything. I was just trying to get under his skin when I said that stuff about him being dumb and easy to trick, but it looks like I was right on the money. Marco really was just blindly doing whatever Viper told him.”

  “You were right about that,” I conceded, “But what the heck was with that deal you offered, or threatening to tell the other pirates that he had snitched?”

  “I was lying,” he deadpanned, staring at me as if I’d just grown two heads. “On both counts, obviously. Law enforcement is allowed to do that. You didn’t think I was serious, did you?”

  “I had no idea,” I replied honestly as I folded my arms over my chest. “Would have been nice to have a bit of warning before you did that, though.”

  “Sorry, sorry,” he sighed, not actually sounding all that apologetic. “I won’t do it again without letting you know first.”

  I frowned at him. It wasn’t a particularly sincere apology, and I really didn’t trust that he wouldn’t do it again, given the opportunity. It was annoying that he’d done that without at least consulting me, but I couldn’t deny that he’d gotten results in the end, so I decided to let it go this time.

  I looked over at Holm, who’d been silent for the entire conversation. He was sitting sideways in the chair with his head leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed.

  “Is Holm asleep?” I asked as I walked over to him.

  “Hm?” Chapman asked as he turned to look at him. “Uh, he was awake a minute ago. We were just making bets on how long it would be until Marco started crying.”

  I swore internally as I rushed over to my partner. I knew he’d seemed off after we’d gotten back to the office.

  “Holm,” I called as I shook his shoulder gently. He was pale, and he didn’t respond to my call. “Holm. Hey, Holm! Robbie!”

  I shook him harder, my heart rate increasing with every second that passed without a response. He suddenly slipped off the chair and fell over, completely limp. I managed to catch him before he could hit the ground, and I noticed with fear that his skin felt clammy and cool to the touch.

  “Is he okay?” Chapman was kneeling next to me an instant later.

  “I’m calling nine-one-one,” Hills muttered urgently behind me.

  I reached up to take Holm’s pulse. To my relief, it was there, but it was weak.

  Chapman said they were just talking together, I thought to myself as I gently eased my partner onto the ground, so he was flat on his back. Until we knew exactly what was wrong, it would be best not to move or jostle him too much. That means he hasn’t been out that long. This is fine. He’s going to be fine.

  I thought that to myself in an attempt to stay calm. Usually, I was pretty good at functioning under stressful situations. I kept a cool head and didn’t panic when things got rough. It was different when it was your partner instead of a random civilian, though.

  My mind kept going back to the conversation we had earlier in the break room about how we’d come up from the water too fast. The symptoms had been there. So why had I ignored it?

  “The ambulance is on its way,” Hills informed me. “I’ll go tell your director what’s happening.”

  I could hear his footsteps as he rushed away, but they were muffled beyond the blood rushing through my ears, muting everything else around me.

  “Hang on, brother,” I breathed. “We’re going to get you some help.”

  10

  Ethan

  I woke up with a start as my head drooped down again. My back ached from the uncomfortable hospital chair I’d set up next to the hyperbaric chamber that Holm was currently asleep in.

  After he’d suddenly collapsed outside the interrogation room, we’d rushed to the hospital. The doctors had quickly been able to determine that he did, in fact, have decompression sickness as a result of having ascended too fast after diving.

  After that, Holm had been placed into a hyperbaric chamber, a special tube-shaped room that replicated the effects of gradual altitude adjustment to relieve the symptoms of decompression sickness. I’d dragged a chair all the way down to the area of the hospital where the chamber was and insisted on staying there, at least until Holm woke up. He’d probably freak out when he came to inside a cramped metal tube, so the least I could do was wait and explain things to him to minimize the shock.

  I’d been gutted when I heard his prognosis. I’d known that the way we’d come up had been far from safe, and I’d noticed that Holm had been acting strangely in the hours after. I couldn’t help but feel that I should have been more adamant about getting him to a doctor. Sure, he was a grown man who could make his own decisions, but sometimes even grown men need a kick in the ass when they’re being stupid. There was no point in getting worked up over the could-haves and should-haves, though.

  The Vegas agents had seemed really upset to hear about it as well. Chapman, in particular, had looked guilty when he found out that the reason Holm was sick was that we’d come up to rescue them after they’d been attacked. He’d wanted to stay as well, but the hyperbaric chamber was located in a special part of the hospital, and the staff insisted that they couldn’t allow so many visitors to be hanging around.

  “We’ll head back and tie up whatever loose ends are left with the suspect,” Hills had suggested once we at least knew that Holm’s condition was stable. “We can figure out what to do next after you see to your partner.”

  It had been a few hours since the Vegas agents had left, and I’d nodded off several times already. The thin, practical hospital chairs left much to be desired
in terms of comfort, so by the time my eyes snapped open again for the fourth time, I had a crick in my neck and a sore spot on the right side of my back.

  I stood up and stretched, vaguely contemplating whether I should find something to snack on while I waited. I was just about to leave when I heard a set of light footsteps outside the door, followed by a soft creak as the door swung open.

  “Oh, hello.” A doctor in a white coat looked up at me in surprise before offering me a warm smile. “I didn’t know anyone was still in here. I saw the other agents leave and didn't realize one had stayed behind. I’m Dr. Lovegood.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Agent Ethan Marston. You’re not the doctor I spoke with earlier.”

  “No,” she confirmed. “That was Emerson. He’s gone home for the night. I just came in to check on things.” She turned to look at Holm. “It’s not every day we get someone suffering from decompression sickness. More than most hospitals, I imagine, given that we’re in Miami, but still… it’s a fairly rare condition.”

  “But everything’s fine?” I asked a little warily as she looked over something on her tablet.

  “He’s doing great.” She smiled at me reassuringly. “Looks like his vitals are returning to normal. It says here that he was with someone else on this dive, though. Is the other diver not feeling ill?”

  “Oh, that was me,” I replied, relieved to hear that Holm was doing alright. “And no, I’m feeling just fine, actually. Is that strange? We both spent the same amount of time underwater and came up together.”

  “Maybe,” the doctor hummed. “Maybe not. The human body is tricky and confusing. I’ve heard stories of skydivers whose parachutes failed, and yet they managed to survive with barely a scratch. Even though both of you went through the same thing, it doesn’t necessarily mean your bodies will react in the same way. On the other hand, symptoms of decompression sickness can take up to a few days to appear. It might be prudent of you to check yourself in for observation, just to be on the safe side.”

  “I don’t think that’ll work.” I frowned. “We’re in the middle of a case. It’s one thing to be a man down, but two? That could severely jeopardize the case.”

  “I suppose I understand,” she replied, though the way she pursed her lips clearly indicated that she disapproved of my decision. “Well, I hope you’ll at least come back the moment you begin to feel symptoms if you do get them.”

  “No problem,” I assured her before glancing back over to Holm. To my shock, his eyes were open, and he was looking back at me with a confused expression on his face.

  “What’s going on?” he croaked, his voice cracking as soon as he tried to speak. It seemed to take him a minute to register where he was and that he was currently lying inside a narrow tube.

  “Take it easy, brother,” I cautioned him as I watched an expression of panic flit across his eyes, replaced quickly with something that looked like embarrassment.

  “Really?” he grunted as he took a look around the inside of the hyperbaric chamber. “Man, I can’t believe it. How many years with the SEALS and doing dives for MBLIS now? I’ve never gotten the bends before.”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” I teased, happy to see that he was taking his situation well.

  “I’m glad to see you’re awake,” Dr. Lovegood commented as she moved to the other side of the chamber to speak with Holm. “How are you feeling, Agent Holm?”

  “Ugh… alright, I guess,” Holm replied as he awkwardly attempted to sit up straighter in the confined space. “My head hurts. Actually, everything kind of hurts.”

  “That’s normal, I’m afraid,” she replied sympathetically. “I can see about getting you a stronger dose of painkillers if you’d like?”

  “Nah.” Holm shook his head. “It’s not that bad, and I’m feeling fuzzy enough as it is.”

  “Fuzzy, how?” the doctor asked, her brows knitting together in concern.

  “It’s kind of hard to concentrate,” Holm replied. “I feel like my reactions are all slow, too, like I’m hungover or something.”

  “That’s normal as well,” the doctor assured him. “We sometimes see some neurological symptoms in patients diagnosed with decompression sickness. It can be similar to the effects of a concussion, actually. Are you having blurred vision or any trouble hearing us?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Holm replied as he gave up and just laid back down flat.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” the doctor replied. “In any case, if you do happen to need anything, you can press that blue button right there to your left. Someone will be in as soon as they can if you do. I’ll let you gentlemen get back to your discussion then.”

  “Thanks,” Holm called as the doctor took her leave. He turned to look at me once she was gone. “You were right.”

  “Hm?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “About what?”

  “Earlier at the office, you said something about how I might have the bends, right?” he muttered. “At least, I think you did, unless I dreamed that.”

  “No, I did,” I confirmed. “I’m surprised you remember, though, considering how out of it you were.”

  “It’s kind of a jumble,” he sighed. “I can vaguely remember that conversation, but I can’t really remember how I got here.”

  “What’s the last thing you do remember?” I asked as I moved to stand close to the edge of the chamber.

  “Well… we came back rushing back up after Chapman said he and Hills were under attack,” he muttered. “Then we went back to the office. Wait, we had to wait for the Coast Guard to come to help with the bodies first. Then we went back. We interviewed that guy. Wait, did we interview him? I can’t remember actually going into the interrogation room.”

  “That’s because you didn’t,” I clarified. “Hills and I went in. You and Chapman stayed outside and watched through the glass.”

  “We did?” Holm frowned, his forehead scrunching up as though he didn’t believe me. “Huh… can’t remember that at all.”

  “Well, I found you passed out in your chair after we finished,” I deadpanned. “So, I’m not sure how much of it you actually watched, anyway.”

  “That sounds about right,” he replied. “So what did we learn? Did you manage to find out anything about the pirates?”

  “We did,” I replied slowly as I remembered everything that had gone down during the interrogation. “We have a few names, at least. Seems like the guy was more of a low-level grunt than anything. He didn’t have all that much information to give in the first place.”

  “Of course,” Holm grumbled as he reached up to adjust the pillow behind his head. “Wouldn’t it be nice if just once we could catch the boss right away? Instead of having to fight through a horde of lackeys to get to him?”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” I replied sarcastically as I sat back down in the chair I’d dragged in earlier.

  “It’d be preferable to sitting in this thing for… how long do I have to stay in here, anyway?” He turned to look at me.

  “Doctor said at least twenty-four hours,” I delivered the bad news. “Maybe longer, depending on your improvement.”

  “Ugh,” he groaned sourly. “Just my luck. Wait, why the heck aren’t you in one of these? We came up at the exact same time!”

  He turned to shoot me an accusatory glare as though this was somehow my doing.

  “Guess I’m made of hardier stuff than you are,” I teased with a shrug.

  “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “This really is bad luck. I’m the only one that has to stay cooped up in here while you get to go and continue on with the case? Not fair.”

  “Sorry,” I chuckled. “It’s just a day, though. Just think of it as a mini-vacation. Spend the whole time sleeping, and you’ll be out in no time.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he sighed with disappointment. “I guess that’s one way to look at it. Wish I had something in here to en
tertain me, though.”

  “Afraid phones and tablets are all a no-go,” I replied. “Can’t risk anything catching on fire with so much oxygen in there. I can turn the TV on, though.”

  I stood back up to fiddle with the screen that was mounted just above the chamber. I couldn’t find a remote anywhere, so it took a minute to figure out how to work it using only the weird buttons and dials that were along the side.

  I flipped through the available channels until Holm found something he liked, some comedy-action movie I’d never heard of.

  “Alright, go on and continue the case without me,” Holm pretended to mope. “Just leave me here by myself.”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at his antics. Internally, I was relieved that he was taking everything with good humor. Not everyone would be so calm if they suddenly found themselves in a locked, enclosed space like that. Now that I knew my partner was fine, I could go back to focusing on the case.

  11

  Ethan

  I yawned as I pulled my car into the parking lot the following morning. By the time I’d left the hospital the previous night, it had been late enough that I’d decided to just head home. It was a little earlier than I would have usually arrived, but I’d been unable to rest well the night before. My mind had been too busy worrying about Holm and thinking over what we’d learned during the interrogation for me to get a good night’s rest.

  As I stepped into the building, I decided that our next move should be to confront the so-called victims down at the makeshift shelter along the dock. If we believed what Marco had told us, then that meant that the crew of the Chinese cargo ship that had been attacked were actually pirates themselves. That meant that they might know something about the Colombian pirates that we didn’t. If nothing else, we couldn’t ignore the vast amount of pharmaceutical drugs we’d found inside one of the sunken containers.