****
Connie studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. The stateroom on Morning Mist was more like a luxury hotel room than shipboard accommodations. She wore a pair of calf length linen pants and an oversized polo shirt, the least flashy clothes that she'd found in the lockers. The shower had been refreshing, but her real motive had been to get away from Pratt long enough to collect her thoughts. She reviewed their conversation and decided that she'd done all right; she'd tricked him into giving away enough information so that she'd been able to skew his perception of who she was.
Pratt's mention of her old nemesis, Sam Alfano, had given her the idea, and she'd gambled that any high-level crook from south Florida would know something about the downfall of Giannetti and Greco. That had been Paul's last active case, and it had not been fully resolved until after his retirement, so she had quite a bit of inside information on it. Dropping Hector Ochoa's name had seemed to squelch Pratt's last doubts about her mythical connection to the Mexican cartel. His eyes had told her all she needed to know about his connection to the Colombian playboy.
Now that Pratt was solidly hooked, she had to figure out how to play him. Knowing that Sharktooth had planted a tracking device on Morning Mist, she was surprised that help had not shown up by now. She'd been aboard for about three hours, and it had been close to noon when she was taken. Paul should have discovered she was missing within an hour after the attack, and there was no shortage of people to carry out a rescue. It was clear to her that something was wrong; she would have to assume she was on her own at this stage.
She smiled at how easily she'd moved her mark through the stages of anger and fear to acceptance. She reined herself in; she was enjoying the game too much. It was all right to be confident; that was essential, but she couldn't afford to get cocky. That could trip her up, especially with a macho man like Pratt. His type was easily threatened by a forceful woman. She mustn't overdo it. It was time to let him flex his muscles a little.
She would play on his greed and explain how he could help her and her associates secure their hold on the European cocaine market. His reaction to her mention of the Unione Corse confirmed her theory about why he had avoided the French islands. Any self-respecting drug baron would jump at an opportunity to move product into Martinique and Guadeloupe. They were départements of France and therefore part of the European Union, so the two islands would provide an easy gateway to France and the rest of mainland Europe for Pratt's smuggling.
There was still the question of his interest in Sadie. Connie had to find a way to satisfy whatever was driving that. Given what she knew about Pratt, she didn't think it was true love, or even petty jealousy. He was probably worried that the girl knew too much. But if it were that simple, he would have killed her when he had the chance. She'd have to work on finding an answer to that.
Having already discovered that she was locked in the cabin, she sat down on the foot of the bed to wait for someone to let her out. In less than a minute, she heard a rap on the door. She wondered if she'd been under observation. It had not occurred to her to check the cabin for cameras.
"Lunch is on the table. You ready?" she heard, recognizing Pratt's voice.
"Yes," she called, standing and moving toward the cabin door as she heard the latch snap open.
****
"They got a hit on Connie's phone," Phillip said, as he disconnected his cellphone, "but it's not much help. It was in range of two towers when the call was made to your phone a little while ago. That's not enough to triangulate a location. All they got is a rough line of position."
"That's a start," Paul said. "Where were they?"
"Case Pilote and Schoelcher were the cell sites. The line of position's more like a rough triangle, with the base line running from one to the other. The apex is maybe between five and eight miles out to the west, on a perpendicular to the base line."
"That's between 20 and 40 square miles," Paul said. "Can they get a chopper up?"
"Yeah, they're on the way, but here's the rest of the story. Case Pilote saw the signal first, and then Schoelcher. Between the time Case Pilote saw it and the time Schoelcher saw it, the signal strength built steadily at Case Pilote. The tech's interpretation is that they turned the phone on somewhere out to the west and steered a course to the east until they got a signal. They initiated the call before the Schoelcher site picked up the signal, and shortly after Schoelcher saw it, they disconnected. Then the signal disappeared from both cell sites simultaneously."
"Smart bastards," Paul said. "They probably ran like hell after they disconnected and then shielded Connie's phone, so we aren't going to find them in that area. The next call's going to come from somewhere else."
"Yes, that's what the techs think. Probably somewhere miles to the north or south. The chopper will fly an expanding search pattern based on a rectangle elongated north and south from the line of position, but it's probably futile."
"Shit," Paul said.
"My sentiments, too," Phillip said.
"They gotta set up some kind of swap," Sharktooth said. "They want Sadie."
"Yeah, but my bet is it'll be an ambush," Paul said. "Not a swap. They want me and Connie dead, in case Sadie told us something important."
"But still they want her. Or you t'ink they kill her, too?"
"Hard to know," Phillip said. "I suppose we could talk to her when she and Sandrine get back from the market."
"No need," Sharktooth said. "I t'ink it don' matter. The t'ing is, they gonna set a meet somewhere. That means they mus' come to the place, some of them, anyway."
"What are you thinking?" Phillip asked.
"I t'ink ambush can work two ways, if we see them firs'."
"They're not going to bring Morning Mist to the ambush," Paul said.
"No, I don' tink so. They prob'ly use a little boat, so no radar return, or so they t'ink."
"That's what I'd do," Paul said.
"Me too," Phillip agreed. "Keep talking, Sharktooth."
"Radar or infrared from up in the sky work bettah for spot the small boat. We save the chopper for then. Mebbe Clarence got the stealth one free, an' we surprise them before they know what happen. Even if they die, they prob'ly got GPS wit' a breadcrumb trail back to the big boat."
"Sounds like our best chance," Paul said. "Let's put that together unless we hear something else that changes our minds."
Chapter 26
"So, Pratt, have you had time to think this over?" Connie asked, pausing with a forkful of mahi-mahi over her plate.
"Yeah. Let's say I wanna deal. Whaddaya got in mind?"
"Not so fast. Who am I dealing with?"
"Whaddaya mean? I'm sittin' here with ya. Who the fuck do ya think you're dealin' with?"
"Don't get offended; I know you're the man. There's no question about that; I can tell just by looking at you." She smiled and tipped her head forward, looking up at him, knowing that the shadow of her brow in the overhead light made her eyes even darker. She saw him relax, the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he tried to keep a poker face. "It's just that we're not talking about only the U.S. or the Caribbean basin, here. I need your guidance on who to deal with for Europe." She sat up and brought the fish to her mouth, licking her lips just the slightest bit as she took it from the fork.
"Yeah, I see what you mean. I talked to the man down south ... uh ... Hector ... while you was showerin', see, 'cause I was hopin' maybe this was where we was goin'."
"Is he okay with this, then? I mean, with you cutting a deal with me for Europe?"
"Yeah. He knows who you are, and we ain't got nobody else workin' that territory, so he says it's mine if I can make it happen."
"Good. I'm sure he knows you're the right man for the job. I spotted that right away myself. There's just some kind of vibe you give off, I guess. We're going to make some serious money, Pratt."
"You can call me Jonas, Connie."
"Thanks. Maybe after I get to know you a little better
. I've got you pictured as Pratt right now."
"Okay if I call you Connie?"
"Sure. I'd like that. Now we need to get this put together, because we don't have much time left."
"You said that before, but I don't understand. I ain't gotta call your husband any special time."
She smiled. "No, but he's not waiting for your call. Remember what he is?"
"A cop? But he — "
"Look, Jonas — Hey! did you hear that? Just seemed completely right, rolled off my tongue before I knew it. I surprised myself. I guess I like you more than I realized. Anyway, just let me save us a lot of time, okay?"
"Sure, Connie. I'm listenin'."
"Here's the deal. My big value to the team is that I can use Paul to take out the competition. He thinks I'm kind of a double agent. You probably heard that we hang out in Martinique a lot. The reason is because there are a bunch of, well, let's just call them mercenaries, in Martinique. Most of them are Unione Corse, but they do contract work for the DEA when it suits them. You with me so far, Jonas?"
He nodded, gazing into her eyes.
She blinked slowly and said, "It's a drop-dead certainty that they're looking for us right now, and they'll find us. They've got resources like you can't believe. Because of the DEA connection, they even have access to satellite surveillance. The only reason I can think of that they haven't hit us already is that they aren't sure you have me aboard. Once they rule out places ashore around Rodney Bay, they'll probably drop from the sky. Most likely, they'll wait until after dark. It's hard to believe, but they've got a stealth chopper that can put people on deck without your even hearing it. It's got no more radar signature than a frigate bird, either. You won't see them coming, but they'll definitely come if I don't stop them. It won't be pretty, either. You started a war when you snatched me."
"If they're gonna do that, how're you gonna cut a deal?"
"Good question. I knew you were the right guy, Jonas. You get right to the point. Here's my plan. I'll convince Paul that I've done a deal with you that's going to lead us to an even bigger bust; I've done that before. He'll back off, then."
"But what about these DEA mercenaries, Connie?"
"Remember, I said most of them were Unione Corse?"
Pratt nodded, still transfixed by her eyes.
"We — that's you and me, Jonas — we're going to sell them product. Lots of it. They've got supply problems. They've been sourcing their stuff from the Asian subcontinent through the Middle East, and they're having more and more trouble. We're talking a cocaine drought in Europe. My team's shipping all we can spare, but we've got the whole western U.S. to take care of. One worry is whether you can meet the demand for high grade coke. I'll need to show them you can. In fact, if you've got any samples aboard right now, that would help smooth the way."
"I got a hundred kilos aboard. Uncut — pure as it gets. That do it?"
"That should. I'll need a kilo or so to take with me, and proof that the rest is here."
"The kilo's no problem, but ... "
"I'll take a picture of the rest with my iPhone."
"But what if they attack before you put this deal together. We only got an hour until sundown. You said — "
"I've got it figured out. Here's what we do. You told Paul to wait at Diamond Rock with the girl until you called again, right?"
"Yeah."
"How far's that from where we are?"
"Maybe an hour in one of the ski boats. That's what we ... I ... planned to — "
"I'm going to 'escape' and 'steal' one of the ski boats. I'm sure they're ready for an ambush from you, so if I go alone and say I got away, I can probably stop them from attacking. That's if they don't kill me, thinking I'm part of your ambush. I need to go right now, though, before they mount an attack on us. When I show up at the rendezvous, it'll throw everything into confusion long enough for me to get the mercenaries to stand down. When they get around to debriefing me, I'll get a chance to cut their commander in on this. That's why I need the sample and the pictures, okay?"
"Yeah, I'm liking this, but then what?"
"Then we're going to negotiate the financial side, but don't worry. There's so much money, nobody's going to know what to do with it all. Plenty to go around."
"I still want the girl, okay?"
"What?"
"Sadie. I want her."
"She's important to you? That little piece of fluff?" Connie raised her eyebrows, her face a mask of disbelief. She shook her head.
Pratt's face turned red. "It's personal."
"Bullshit. If you want this deal, you need to level with me. What's going on there, with the girl?"
"She knows too much. She can put Hector and ... some other people ... somewhere they shouldn't-a been. An' she's rakin' in clean money; I can use her income from the music to hide lots of dirty cash, see."
Connie grinned. "Okay, thanks."
"For what?"
"You just solved my last problem."
"What? How?"
"I was trying to figure out what to use for leverage; see, I trust you, but the Unione Corse? They don't know you from anybody. They'll want some insurance. So you just think of Sadie as a hostage for the time being. You get this deal done, and she's all yours. You blow it, and we'll see how much she knows about you and Hector and your friends, because if you screw me up, I'll have to throw you to the wolves. But you aren't going to screw up, are you, Jonas?" She looked straight into his eyes, and licked her lips slowly.
"I ... uh ... "
"Jonas?"
"Yeah?"
"It's time to fish or cut bait. You in, or you out?"
"I'm in. Definitely in, Connie."
"Good." Connie got up and walked around the table. As Pratt got to his feet, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. "I knew from the first time I saw you what was going to happen between us." She stepped back and said, "Now give me my phone and let's go take the pictures. You can give me the sample and we'll call Paul and tell him where to meet the ski boat for the swap. I'm guessing you're planning to tell him you'll release me somewhere else, and that I'm going to call him and tell him to release Sadie to the people in the boat. Is that right?"
"Yeah. How'd you — "
"And you were going to blow them away and take Sadie, right?"
"Right. How'd you – "
"Great minds, Jonas, great minds. We're going to enjoy this relationship, you and I are, but that's for later. Let's move."
****
"This whole thing is nuts," Paul said, disconnecting the call. He and Phillip were with Sharktooth in Lightning Bolt, drifting in the St. Lucia channel near Anse Figuiers on Martinique's south coast. He'd taken the call from Pratt in speakerphone mode, so the others had heard Pratt's plan for the exchange. "That's a completely unworkable plan."
"You've gotten distracted, Paul," Phillip said. "The only thing that matters is that Connie sounded okay when he put her on. The rest was just bullshit, remember?"
"Yeah, but I smell a double cross."
"Sorry to interrupt," Sharktooth said, "but you both t'ink we should hurry to Diamantista II, yes?"
"Yes, let's go," Paul said.
"Go," Phillip said. He turned back to Paul. "We were expecting Pratt to send us into an ambush, Paul. Of course his plan is screwed up. He's not expecting to make a swap any more than we are."
"Yeah, but he didn't even come up with a convincing scam."
Phillip shrugged. "As many of these fools as you've locked up, what made you think he'd be smart?"
"I ... " Paul shrugged. "Yeah, okay. I'm just rattled, I guess."
"Sure you are. That's understandable. Try to loosen up. You heard Connie; she sounded good. We knew he was going to try to waste everybody, and we're ready for him."
"You think Connie's going to be okay?"
"We're all doing our best to make it so. As soon as we spot anybody approaching, we'll have a direction to Morning Mist. Our boarding party will probably capture Mornin
g Mist before Pratt's strike force even gets within range of Diamantista II. He's not going to hurt Connie until he's sure he's got what he wants."
"Yeah, I know all that," Paul said. "Still ... "
"Hey, Paul?"
"Yeah, Sharktooth?"
"I t'ink this Pratt fella be damn lucky if we catch him before Connie mess him up. You know she cut up that other fella pretty bad, make all that blood. My money on Connie. That mon Pratt, he walkin' aroun' dead. Connie jus' not told he yet."
Paul smiled at that. "Could be. I can't help worrying, though."
"There's Diamantista II," Phillip said, pointing at a dim white light up ahead. He picked up the tactical radio from its rack next to the helm. "All Ice units, this is Ice Six. Respond, please. Position and status. Over."
"One. Drifting, on station. No company." They recognized Marie LaCroix's voice.
"Two." They could hear the soft sound of the helicopter's muffled engine as background noise over the radio. "Two kilometers west of Ice One. Holding pattern at 500 feet. No company."
"Three," the skipper of the heavily armed 10-meter assault boat said. "Drifting, one kilometer southwest of Ice One. No company."
"Roger, all units. We are now in play. One, take up a course of 270 degrees true, speed seven knots. Two and three, maintain your relative positions on One. This is Six, holding at 500 meters east of Ice One. Acknowledge, please. Over."
****
Connie kept the ski boat at full throttle, ignoring the discomfort as the lightweight, low profile hull skipped from wave to wave. The boat frequently became airborne, landing with a bone-jarring crash that sent fountains of spray flying. She was surprised at how quiet the engine was, given her speed of about 55 knots.
She had been disappointed to learn that the boat had no electronics, but she was using her iPhone to navigate to Diamond Rock. The phone had a strong GPS signal, even though she wasn't within cellphone range. Frustrated that she had no way to communicate, she was worried about what kind of reception might await her. Phillip and Paul would be expecting an attack, she was certain, and they had no way to know that she was even aboard the ski boat.
Running Under Sail - a Connie Barrera Thriller (Connie Barrera Thrillers Book 5) Page 19
