Requiem

by J. B. Turner

  “And my brother too.”

  “Got it.”

  “There’s a lot riding on this. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I’m assuming you mean national security threats.”

  “Precisely. These two are national security threats. I can’t give you the lowdown on who and what they are. Suffice it to say they are a danger to America, its interests, and those of its allies. Am I making myself clear?”

  The kid gave a nervous cough. “Sir, I’ll hopefully have a better picture of what we’re facing within the hour.”

  “Good. Because so far we have come up with nothing. They’ve dropped off the grid. How is that even possible? It’s impossible.”

  “Long story short, sir, but yeah, it’s possible.”

  “Are we scanning surveillance cameras belonging to the FBI, Miami-Dade Police, Miami Beach, across the city and beyond?”

  “That’s all in place. I’ve uploaded some great new facial recognition software too. But it takes time. It’s very precise. High degree of accuracy.”

  De Boer felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours. “Right, so you’re on this. Highway cameras, we’re into them?”

  “We’re in. We’re scanning in real time all footage since these two dropped off the grid.”

  “I want us to go deeper. That should be just the starting point.”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “I want to get into each and every webcam, private surveillance systems, I want to get into everything. Everywhere.”

  The kid whistled. “Interesting. You do know that’s totally illegal, I’m assuming, not to mention an extraordinarily complex technical operation?”

  “Son,” he said, “I don’t want to know if something is going to be tough to implement. And I sure as hell don’t want a lecture about what is and isn’t legal.”

  “Sir, I wasn’t suggesting . . . It’s just that I wanted to make clear how challenging that would be. It’s not straightforward.”

  “We need to find this guy. He is a danger to national security, and so is the girl. American national security. I’m assuming you believe in national security.”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “Of course you do. Now listen, this is not a drill. Not a training exercise. This is the real thing.”

  The kid sighed. “I get that. Four people, including me, are working on this. But what you’re suggesting is, you want every device, cell phone, surveillance system, private and public, in and around Miami to come into our orbit. Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

  “I want the area around Homestead covered. Hell, I want Florida covered.”

  “Florida? Florida is a big-ass state, sir, with respect. That’s a big ask.”

  “That’s why I called you guys. You do stuff like this, don’t you?”

  “We’re the best. We’ve advised the UN on cybersecurity, NATO, the CIA, you name it.”

  “So let’s get to work. I want a dragnet like you wouldn’t believe. Stone is dangerous. But we don’t know where he is. So how do we find him?”

  The kid cleared his throat. “To be clear, you are instructing me to use any method, legal or illegal, to track them down.”

  “Precisely. Can you live with that?”

  “Sure.”

  De Boer looked a few hundred yards farther down the road and saw Roel Bakker signaling him. “Do what you need to do. I want results.”

  He ended the call. He got back in the SUV and was driven a couple of hundred yards to where Bakker, red-faced and sweating, was standing in a ditch by the road. He got out. “What is it?”

  Bakker bent down and pointed out bloodstains on the grassy mud and fragments of plastic. “Visor?”

  De Boer’s stomach knotted.

  Bakker showed him broken branches of trees. “It’s all trampled down just a few yards from the bloodstains.”

  De Boer took a few steps to the bloodstains. “Christ.” He pushed through the trees and tall grass, squelching in the dirt. Farther and farther from the road. A few moments later, he saw the twisted handlebars of the bike shrouded in long grass. Then he saw the black leather jacket. He pushed back the grass to reveal his brother’s body.

  Thirteen

  Stone was reaching up to cut the highest of the vine’s branches as the setting sun spread a golden glow across the waters all around. They’d slept most of the day in the shelter, but soon it would be time to move again. He made a second cut at the bottom of the vine. Then he tipped the dripping water into an empty bean can that had washed up onto the tiny key they were holed up on.

  He cut a dozen more vines in a similar manner and poured the contents into assorted other beer cans that had washed up.

  Stone then heated the cans on the fire. After they had cooled slightly, he called across to Beatrice, who seemed to have calmed down a notch after her meltdown. “You need to carefully fill up all those empty plastic bottles with this water. It’s clean. Warm but clean.”

  “That doesn’t look good.”

  “It’s fine. It’s pure. Not chilled, I’ll grant you. But it will keep you alive.”

  “I’m so dehydrated I need some now.”

  “Let’s get all these bottles filled up to keep us going for the next twenty-four hours. Then we can hydrate.”

  Beatrice nodded. “The guy you shot . . . he was really going to kill us?”

  “No question about it. Now, let’s think how we should move forward.”

  Beatrice sat in silence.

  Stone looked at her. He actually felt strangely sorry for the woman. She was trying to put a brave face on things. Despite bleeding from all the bites from the bugs and mosquitos, she seemed more in control of her emotions. He watched as she poured the water from the cans very carefully into the plastic bottles. The fact that she looked so much like his sister—the sunken eyes, the tired smile—he found oddly comforting. The way she rolled her eyes—Helen did the same thing. It was uncanny. She was vulnerable too. And he felt strangely protective of her. The way he felt for his sister.

  “You’re doing really well,” he said.

  Beatrice turned and flashed him a beautiful smile. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “I want you to know I’ll protect you. Whatever it takes, all of this doesn’t have anything to do with you. I understand that. And I will do what has to be done. That’s all I want you to know.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “Take five of the bottles,” he said, taking off his shirt, “and wrap them up in this shirt so they don’t spill out. And, obviously, keep them all upright. You okay?”

  Beatrice nodded. “Sure. I think I got this.”

  “Look, I’m sorry for the gun at your head and everything.”

  Beatrice dropped her gaze. “Don’t let it happen again.”

  “It was fight or flight. We needed to get out of Miami. Get away from civilization.”

  “Well, we certainly achieved that.”

  Beatrice picked up the bottles, two in each hand, carried them down to the small boat, then loaded up the rest. She made sure to wrap them tight and upright with Stone’s shirt.

  Stone handed her another bottle of warm water. “Here, drink this.”

  Beatrice sniffed it. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

  Stone gulped his own bottle down. “See. It’s warm but clean. It’s good.”

  Beatrice did the same. “That was surprisingly good.”

  Stone wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s better.”

  Beatrice closed her eyes for a moment. “This is way too much reality for my liking.”

  “Reality, huh?”

  “I’m an actress. I live in Santa Monica. This is not how I live.”

  “It’s a bit uncomfortable, I understand. And the stuff with me pressing a gun to your head, what can I say? I’m sorry.”

  Beatrice folded her arms. “Well, I’ve been carjacked before in West Hollywood, so that
wasn’t anything new.”

  Stone gave a wry smile. “Now, that is a crazy place, I’ll give you that.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  Stone sighed. “The plan? The plan is to stay alive. We have water. We’re hidden. For now. But we need to keep on moving. Probably for the next twenty-four hours. And then we’ll try and get back to civilization. Think you can handle that?”

  “So we’re going to be out here for another day, with the bugs and humidity, in the middle of absolutely nowhere?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I need to know more. I’m still freaking out.”

  “What do you need to know? You’re alive.”

  “I get that. But I need to know what this is all about. Really about.”

  “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

  “I think I’ve got a right to know. You said you were an assassin. And you killed a guy somewhere overseas?”

  “Among others.”

  “This is fucked up, I have to tell you.”

  Stone said nothing.

  “You’ve had opportunities to kill me in the past twelve hours. Headed down that mosquito-infested trail. And you didn’t.”

  Stone nodded.

  “It’s like you knew where you were going.”

  “I do.”

  “So you’ve been down that dirt track before?”

  “It’s called Snake Bight Trail, if you must know.”

  “Right. You could’ve killed me on the boat. And you could’ve killed me in this godforsaken place. So why haven’t you?”

  “I don’t want to. I don’t have to. That’s why.”

  “I just don’t know what I’ve gotten myself involved in. Why? Why are they so intent on killing you?”

  “I don’t know if I should talk about it, to be honest.” Stone shook his head. “It shouldn’t have gotten this crazy, I know that.”

  Beatrice nodded.

  “I can’t tell you much. I did a hit in Europe. I can’t say who it was. I was kept in isolation at a facility off the northwest coast of Scotland. And from there I was released onto the mainland and told to kill a guy.”

  Beatrice ran a hand through her hair, working out a tangle. “Can’t you say any more?”

  Stone shook his head.

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “There’s a lot of stuff you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “I kill people. And I killed a few people, powerful people, in New York. That’s why this has escalated so badly.”

  “I don’t like this. I don’t like any of this. I don’t want any part of it.”

  “That’s understandable. You’ve stumbled inadvertently into a world most people probably don’t know exists. Assassinations. Murders made to look like accidents. Neutralizing people.”

  “Shit.” She stared at the ground, eyes wide, for a moment. Then she looked up at Stone. “That’s disgusting, you know? You kill people? Who does that?”

  “Our government does it every day. On your behalf.”

  “I’d like to know who you killed. Neutralized, whatever you call it.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? I just do. Morbid curiosity, I guess.”

  “If I tell you, it will almost certainly put you at risk.”

  “From you?”

  “Not from me. From them. The people who want to kill me. The people who hired you.”

  Beatrice folded her arms. “You say I’m already at risk from them?”

  “You are.”

  “Then you might as well tell me. Who did you kill?”

  “If we make it out of here, I might tell you. How about that? But revealing that information to anyone else would not be a smart move for you, believe me.”

  “So, they want to silence you and me?”

  Stone turned and saw that the sky was darkening, turning bloodred. “We need to move pretty soon while there’s still some light.”

  “Answer me. They want to silence us both?”

  “They do now. They absolutely want to kill me. But they’ll want to get rid of you too. Any further questions?”

  “I want to get out of here. I’m scared.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? Do you know what I’m going through?”

  “I can imagine.”

  “You can imagine . . . I just have a feeling that you’re going to kill me. I can’t get over it.”

  “Why would I kill you?”

  “I don’t know. Because that’s what you do?”

  Stone shook his head. “I don’t blame you for thinking like that. But the real threat to you is from the people who hired you.”

  “I can’t imagine that this is going to end well.”

  “It won’t if we stay still. We need to go now.”

  “Go where?”

  “Another key. About a mile southeast of here.”

  “Why the hell did you bring us out here? Aren’t we an easy target?” She turned in a circle. “No cops. No witnesses.” She gestured to the sticks he’d sharpened, lying on the ground near the tent. “I bet they have better weapons than we do.”

  “We need to avoid cities. Civilization. Surveillance. I explained this already.”

  Beatrice sat down on the dirt, swatting away the bugs that were starting to thicken the air. “You said I could leave. But it wasn’t the right time. Is this the right time?”

  “No, because you would die out here by yourself. But if your question is, Would I stop you? The answer is no.”

  “So I can go?”

  Stone pointed to the boat. “Take it. It’s yours. If you want it.”

  “Can you take me back to the trail?”

  “No. That’s not where I’m going. I’m heading southeast. Through the outer Keys and back to civilization.”

  “And if you don’t make it?”

  “I believe I will. If I go back the way we came, they will find us. For sure.”

  Beatrice scratched her head. “Goddamn bugs.”

  “They’re everywhere here. Listen, if you want, you can take the boat.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “What are you going to do? Are you going to just let me go?”

  “You wanna go? Then go.”

  “You really think those people will kill me?”

  Stone sighed. “If you manage to make it back—and that’s a big if—you will be interviewed by the cops. You will give your real name, your stage name, whatever. And then they will know where you are. And they will wait. The police will take you to the hospital for a checkup. Chances are you won’t make it out of the hospital alive.”

  “You’re just trying to scare me.”

  “You’re not my problem. They are my problem. And now they’re your problem too.”

  “And you’re not going to kill me or harm me in any way?”

  “I want to get the hell out of here as much as you do. But we need to be smart to try and evade these people. And heading back the way we came, back into civilization, is not smart. When we resurface, we need to be well away from there.”

  “So, we’re going to another island like this . . .”

  “It’s a bit bigger. I’ve been out here before. I know about survival. And I can tell you this: I would be better off without you tagging along. So I’m prepared to let you go. If that’s what you want.”

  “I want to live. That’s what I want.”

  “Then you have to make up your mind. Am I a danger to you?”

  Beatrice looked up at the darkening sky as if for inspiration. “I don’t know.”

  “You need to decide.”

  “No . . . I don’t think you’re a danger to me.”

  Stone nodded. “All right then. Let’s get back in the boat. We have water now and we’ll head off to another key.” He held out his hand and she grabbed it. Stone pulled her to her feet.

  “Look at me, I’m disgusting,” she said. “I cannot wait to get someplace wh
ere I can take a shower.”

  “Well, don’t hold your breath just yet.”

  Stone kicked sand onto the fire and they headed to the boat through twisted mangroves until they got to the sandy shoreline. He pushed off as she clambered in beside the bottles of water. Egrets were silhouetted against the inky-blue sky. He paddled hard for a few hundred yards, then the paddle caught in the mud in the shallow waters. “Fuck,” he said before he managed to wrench it free.

  Swarms of bugs filled the air. Nathan saw an alligator on a sandbank a few yards away and was grateful Beatrice didn’t notice. They continued past the mangrove-fringed islands and into deeper channels.

  “How far?” she asked.

  “Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

  Stone turned down yet another narrow channel, forcing the oar through the muddy shallows, through seagrass, the paddle getting twisted among the reeds. His eyes were adjusting to the stygian darkness. He pressed on, paddling hard, arms pumping.

  Nearly half an hour later, an island came into view in the far distance. A bigger key, covered in mangroves, live oaks on a higher elevation, and thick vegetation.

  Stone brought them closer and closer. He paddled up to the sandy shoreline, jumped off, and dragged the boat up high like before. Beatrice handed him the bottles of water, which he placed in the sand. Then he helped her out of the boat.

  Beatrice picked up the bottles and followed Stone silently along a well-worn muddy trail. Finally, he pushed through a thick mangrove canopy to the sandy center of the island. A small, rudimentary wooden cabin stood in the middle.

  “What the hell?” she said.

  “This was built about ten years ago by a friend of mine. Lived on the Keys for a while. Former Marine.”

  “Out here? Are you kidding me?”

  Stone swatted away some mosquitos. “Got evicted from his house and he headed out here and built this. Lived here for a few months every winter.”

  “Fuck. Is this for real?”

  Stone pushed open the creaking door. Inside was a dark space, mostly empty aside from a twin bed. He spotted a cupboard and opened it. Inside were cans of bug spray, citronella candles, and some crackers. He handed her a can of bug spray.

  Beatrice sprayed it on her body and all around.

  “You okay?” he said.

  “Not really. But I don’t feel as far from civilization here, if that makes sense.”