The End of a Lie (The Amy Mohr Chronicles Book 1)

by M A Moore

  They worked their way forward again and went into the empty cabin to wait, and to plan a means of escape. Amy locked the door. In silence they sat on the bunk in semi-darkness. Amy reached out and took his hand.

  When Brown and Reynolds got to the Marina they saw the empty slip where African Peace once docked. Reynolds consulted his laptop.

  “We’ve lost the GPS signal from the boat and it says Mike’s phone is still at his house in Cape Town.”

  “Can we use Mavis?” Brown asked.

  “She doesn’t see that well in the dark."

  Reynolds scanned the sky.

  "The moon might be enough if the clouds continue to break up.”

  He reached into his backpack and took his beloved Mavis out. He handed his laptop to Brown, and placed his girl on the dock while he extended her wings. She only required a two-foot runway to take off, but the dock area had obstacles she would need to avoid, like sailboat masts, lamp posts and electrical wires. Reynolds knew it was too dark for him to fly her manually. He hoped Paul’s modified software was good enough to get her out of the marina before she crashed into something. He retrieved his laptop from Brown and set her automatic pilot for due south out over False Bay. Facing her in the right direction, he started her electric motor and let her go. Her hum was soft, but there were few sounds in the marina that night. Both men feared she would attract attention. Reynolds held his breath as Mavis dodged the twenty-foot mast of a schooner, and made a sudden altitude adjustment to get over some electric cables draped along the moorings. Reynolds couldn't see her anymore, but her cameras adapted for the lower light levels and she sent back telemetry and her GPS position.

  Reynolds only exhaled when it was clear she had made it out of the harbor. Now he adjusted her altitude to one hundred feet and had her scan the bay looking for African Peace. He knew maintaining line of sight communication with her would be difficult if she got too far out of range so he started her following a lazy circle search pattern just past the inlet that led to False Bay.

  After a few minutes Reynolds piped up, “This could be the boat we’re after, she’s about the right size and I don’t see any other craft in the area.”

  Reynolds touched the computer screen and a map of the surrounding region came up with Mavis’ position tracked as a series of small white dots. Reynolds turned his attention to Brown. “According to the map there’s an access road we can reach by car close to her position. It’s about two nautical miles south of here.”

  Brown got on his cell phone and made a call to his team, as both he and Reynolds ran back to their vehicle to meet Mavis and intercept African Peace. They just hoped they weren’t too late.

  ------------------------------------------------------------

  From the flying bridge, Widdon steered the craft along the west coast of False Bay. Mavis continued making wide circles overhead. Engine sounds from the yacht drowned out her hum, and neither Bonner nor Widdon bothered to look up to see a strange tern-sized craft following them in the sky. Robert changed course and directed the yacht towards land. He maneuvered the nimble craft to a deep inlet disguised by a spit of land covered in bushes. African Peace was invisible from the main part of the bay.

  Widdon entered a dock inside a wide but shallow cavern. The tide was low and the top of the flying bridge skimmed just inches below the cave’s roof. If they had arrived a few hours later or earlier the yacht would not have fit. Widdon’s associate jumped onto the wharf and tied the yacht fore and aft.

  Bonner checked for Amy and found the cabin door unlocked and its prisoner gone. He bellowed up to Widdon, "She’s not where I put her.”

  Widdon seemed unconcerned.

  “Can’t worry about that now. She’s either on board somewhere, or she’s done us a favor and jumped ship. Let’s get the crates on the dock. I do not intend to be here when they pick up the goods.”

  Amy and Mike listened to the exchange. Their only advantage was that Widdon and Bonner didn’t know where she was, and they didn’t know Mike was with her.

  Widdon had his men unload the crates from the port side first. Mike opened the door to their starboard cabin and led Amy forward towards access to the flying bridge. The cave was dark except for one spot light illuminating the dock. Except for Mike and Amy everyone on board either unloaded crates or supervised. Mike saw no tactical advantage to climbing above, so he hid them behind the forward hatch hoping for an opportunity to jump off the yacht and onto land. They could make a run for it once the boat tried to leave the cave.

  Bonner and Widdon watched as the two confederates did the physical labor of moving the munitions. The dock was twenty feet long and eight feet wide and the crates were heavy. Water lapped the edge of the wooden boards, but floats adjusted the dock's height to keep it from getting swamped. Once the port side cabins were empty it was time to start with the starboard ones.

  Tramping sounds came from the back of the cave. Large boulders prevented Widdon from seeing the visitors but echoes announced the arrival of entities he was not prepared for.

  “They’re early,” Widdon shouted. “Let’s get out of here.” Widdon ran up the gangway to the flying bridge.

  “We still have two crates to unload,” roared Bonner.

  “Not anymore. I don’t want anyone to be able to identify this boat.” Widdon started the engines and his associates untied the mooring lines.

  “We paid for these munitions. We’re not leaving until they’re unloaded,” Bonner ordered, pulling out his gun.

  “That’s where you're wrong, Bonner.” Widdon took out his weapon and fired. His shot went wide, and Bonner hid behind one of the ammo crates on the dock. The henchman tossed the lines on deck and jumped aboard. Widdon slammed the engines in reverse and the yacht began to back up.

  Mike turned to Amy.

  “Now!” he shouted.

  He took her hand as they leapt. Their weight tilted the dock at an awkward angle. Water lapped their feet. Bonner, insane with anger, kept firing wildly at Widdon. He was out of range.

  Widdon’s thug pulled out his own pistol and started shooting. Bonner ducked lower behind the crates. Spotting Mike and Amy, he re-directed his fire towards them.

  Bonner spotted them too. The boulder was in his line of fire. The henchman jumped back on the dock for a better shot. He reached for Amy while Mike kept Bonner pinned down behind the crate. The wood was slippery with algae. Amy lost her footing and slid to her knees. The thug got close, but she rolled against his legs, throwing him off balance on the teetering platform. He fell backwards into the water.

  The water bubbled red. No bullet wound could have caused that much blood to gush to the surface.

  Mike took cover behind a large boulder and fired at the lamp illuminating the dock. The cave was dark now except for moonlight reflected from the water and the yacht’s running lights. Amy crawled her way over to Mike’s location and he pulled her in behind him.

  Gun fire assaulted them from two sides. The boulder only gave them cover from Bonner. As the yacht swung around, Widdon’s remaining henchman inched along the port side and would soon have them in his sights.

  While Mike concentrated his fire on Bonner, Amy removed her knife from its sheaf, took aim and threw it at the advancing gunman. Her aim was true. Her target dropped his gun and clutched her blade protruding from his abdomen.

  Widdon paid no attention to the gun battle below him. Once he got the stern of African Peace swung about he headed back towards False Bay. Bonner kept firing, first at Mike and Amy, then at Widdon. Amy took the gun from Mike. With deliberate care and infinite patience she aimed for the crate directly in front of Bonner. Time slowed to a crawl. She pulled the trigger.

  Mike yanked her down beside him, wrapping his body around her like a shield. The explosion was deafening and echoed throughout the cave. Shards of debris showered them from above, but the boulder protected them from the worst of it. Amy lifted her head to peer towards the yacht. Her engines were on fire and the crates of
ammunition left in the starboard cabin added to the conflagration. Mike pulled her back down next to him to wait out the rest of the inferno, pressing her close to his chest.

  African Peace was sinking. Amy hadn’t seen her cousin Robert on the flying bridge, but at the moment, she didn’t particularly care where he was.

  Mike’s quick actions protected Amy from the worst of the damaging noise. Despite the mild ringing in her ears, Amy heard commotion running towards them from the path leading out of the cave. She turned the gun in that direction, fearing retribution from the intended receiver of the weapons cache that had just blown up. Mike pushed the gun aside as Ed Brown and Nathan Reynolds came into view lit up by the fire that still engulfed the stern of African Peace. Six armored men in SWAT gear followed.

  Amy handed his gun back to Mike. “I just don’t like handguns,” she murmured. Mike shook his head. The ringing in his ears was too loud for him to understand her.

  “Glad you could make it,“ Mike shouted to Brown more loudly than necessary.

  Reynolds answered. “Mavis got most of what happened outside the cave on video. Great White Sharks are having a frenzy out there. I need to find a place to bring her in. I’m not sure how much longer her battery will last.”

  Reynolds headed back out of the cave and up to the main road where he had a clear view of the sky. Amy and Mike both followed Ed Brown out, and looked up. They couldn’t hear Mavis because of the ringing in their ears, but they saw a very unusual bird still making wide circles over the bay adjacent to the cave.

  Mike stood next to Ed Brown and shook his hand. “Can the de-briefing wait until later?”

  Brown nodded. ”My men will coordinate clean-up operations here.”

  “Will someone give us a ride back to the marina?” Mike asked in a booming voice. “I need to return my neighbor’s car.”

  Chapter 33

  Amy and Mike arrived at his house near dawn. They fell asleep on the couch fully dressed still covered with the remnants from the explosions in the cave. His arms were around her, and sleep was the only thing that either of them wanted.

  By noon Amy had already showered and raided Francoise’s collection of discarded clothes. Mike was making coffee when Brown and Reynolds came to the door. Reynolds was practically glowing. His enthusiasm over Mavis’ performance was hard to restrain as he set up his laptop to replay the recordings from the exploits of the previous few hours.

  “I didn’t realize how far into the infrared her cameras could see,” he babbled as he plugged the power cord into a convenient outlet. “I had only tested her in daylight before.”

  The video showed African Peace disappearing from the bay, and the conflagration that ensued when things started exploding soon after that. The cavern walls directed the explosion outward, and Mavis’ course only deviated slightly as the initial shock wave went below her. The flying bridge blew off as the ordinance still on board ignited. Whether her cousin died then or when things first started blowing up didn't matter to Amy. The team sent to clean up the wreckage found no bodies. Bonner, Widdon and his two associates were never recovered. They did, however, find a frenzy of Great Whites patrolling the area that hampered their salvage efforts.

  Ed Brown explained, “For months SAI suspected a mole in their organization. While Robert Widdon supplied the arms, Stanley Bonner distributed them to selected anti-government groups in South Africa.

  “As far as we can tell, Stanley Bonner was a discontent who was only in it for the money. He was an anarchist of sorts, but in the larger picture he served as a well-paid middleman -nothing more. He’s done damage, but men like him are easy to come by. It was Robert Widdon who was the link to those with real power. When he died all hope of discovering their identity was lost.”

  “So tell me about this organization of yours,” Mike asked casually.

  Ed Brown ignored him. He side stepped Mike's attempts to find out to whom he reported. Amy disengaged from the whole affair. She didn’t ask questions, and Ed Brown avoided pushing her for more details. A connection existed between Brown and Amy, and neither was forthcoming. Mike knew that knowing would not make a difference in his life. With Bonner dead, his link to South African Intelligence was a thing of the past. He could return to being a tour guide and program manager. The prospect didn't seem so terrible.

  Reynolds was still singing Mavis’ praises as he packed up his computer an hour later. His plane back to Kruger left in the late afternoon. He was anxious to get back to his team and start on Mavis 4.0 with the new technology Brown supplied. The next generation lithium batteries were lighter and had more staying power. Poachers in Kruger would have a tougher time eluding capture. Mike could only hope he was right.

  Amy wanted to head back to the States, but she agreed to spend a couple of days with Mike in Stellenbosch sampling the best wines South Africa had to offer before going home.

  Chapter 34

  Stellenbosch is the second-oldest and undoubtedly the most scenically attractive and historically preserved town in southern Africa. The name conjures up images as few other towns or cities can. History is reflected in the neo-Dutch, Georgian and modern-Victorian architecture that encompasses simple lines, fine detail and elegant proportions that bear witness to a proud and dignified heritage. Oak-lined streets, where jagged lines of trees etched against white walls transform the streets into soft, shady tunnels, offer welcome relief from the hot sun. -www.stellenbosch.travel

  Winter had come full force to the Cape region. In comparison to the winters of Amy’s home in upstate New York where the temperatures could easily get into the single digits and the snowfall measured in feet, it was nothing. Snow is rare here except in the higher elevations of the mountains, but another storm was blowing in and the winds howled and the rain was cold and sometimes full of ice pellets.

  Stellenbosch is wine country. The Huguenots brought grapes here in the late seventeenth century. This area east of Cape Town is perfect for producing wine. The vines were dormant now, but vineyards lined the hillsides. Mike got her a spacious room at a bed and breakfast outside the town of Frankenhoek on the banks of the Eerste River. A gas fireplace and sitting area with a table and comfortable chairs for lounging in front of the fire made the place cozy. Twin beds, each with its own reading lamp, graced one side of the room. Shades of white predominated- the walls, the high ceiling and the inside shutters that covered the windows in lieu of curtains. The place had a rustic feel to it. Amy imagined that a French country cottage would look very much like this.

  Mike dropped her off late the second morning after their adventure at the marina. Both of them tried and failed to catch up on sleep at his place. He had business nearby in the afternoon, but he promised to join her later in the evening. Amy took a walk in town and admired the oak-lined streets and white-washed buildings. Stellenbosch is the second oldest European settlement in South Africa after Cape Town. While Cape Town sits on the coast, Stellenbosch is fifty kilometers inland.

  She explored the shops in town. Wearing Francoise’s discarded wardrobe felt awkward now. She just wanted something of her own. A cute boutique offered some comfortable lounging clothes that she could also wear on the plane home. She sat in a quaint coffee shop sipping an expresso, and wasn’t surprised when Ed Brown walked in.

  “Namaste.” He bowed with palms touching over his heart. “May I sit down?” he asked politely.

  Amy nodded. A middle-aged matron with graying hair and a white apron came over to the table and he ordered a coffee with cream.

  “What do you want Sri Kakkar?” Amy addressed him with the Hindu title of respect. “I can't believe this is a social call to check on my well-being.”

  “When I am here in this part of South Africa I prefer you use Ed Brown. My Indian heritage is a private affair, and Ed Brown is easier for people to remember.” He smiled at the matron when she delivered his cup of coffee.

  “As you wish, Mr. Brown. What can I do for you?”

  “First I have come to
return your purple satchel. When our salvage crew cleaned up after the explosion they found a dinghy with your backpack floating in False Bay. It has your passport, bird book and binoculars. I have also taken the liberty of replacing your knife. You will be pleased to note the absence of cell phones.” Brown passed the battered bag to her.

  “Thank you.” Amy put the pack by her feet without opening it.

  “I do have another matter I wish to discuss.”

  “I assumed you would.”

  “Your cousin’s employer is still an issue we need to resolve. His death has not completely ended our hopes of discovering the supplier of the arms he sold. The law firm that hired you does have a legitimate concern about lithium deposits in southern Africa. They represent a company that has patented a new method of extracting that metal from hectorite clay. However, they are a large and powerful entity with fingers in many areas of worldwide economics.”

  Amy sighed. “Exactly what would you like me to do?”

  “We want to find out if they are the source of arms in Africa.”

  “And how do you expect me to accomplish this?”

  “Your mentor, Stephen Malone, was close to discovering that information. We want you to continue his investigation.”

  “I am not going back to Cartagena,” she whispered emphatically.

  “I understand. Please take some time to consider and review that last mission. When you return to the States, we will pass on the information he gave to us before his untimely demise. You need not make a decision at this moment.”

  Ed Brown finished his coffee and got up to leave. With a slight nod he left her sitting there.

  Amy set the backpack on the table. No other customers were in the shop and she took the opportunity to do an inventory of its contents. She tested the binoculars and put them in the shopping bag from the boutique along with the bird book and passport. A knife was in the hidden compartment. She slung the backpack over her shoulder as she headed back to her room at the bed and breakfast.