Last Ride on the Merry-go-round

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Last Ride on the Merry-go-round Page 19

by Judith Rochelle


  She gave him a shaky smile. “I do. I will."

  "Good. Now. Let me check topside and make sure we don't have any unwelcome company. Then how about coming up for some fresh air?"

  "Sounds good to me."

  * * * *

  "The package has gone,” Charlie Waters spat into the phone. “They sent it expedited shipping to your address so you should have it shortly. Then I'm done."

  "Wait,” the voice on the other end said. “Wait just a minute. First of all, won't that raise some eyebrows? And secondly, we have an arrangement. You're not off the hook that easily."

  "What do you think you can do, send someone to kill me?” Charlie's voice was bitter. “There are too many people in line ahead of you if I don't get my ass to someplace safe and stay there for a long time."

  "Charlie, listen—"

  "No. I'm done listening. And don't try to call me again. I'm taking this phone apart and ditching it."

  He clicked off, then proceeded to dismantle the sat phone. As he zigzagged through alleys he tossed pieces of it into different garbage piles. Let somebody try to find that.

  When the last piece was disposed of, he hurried to his hideout and gathered the few things he'd wrapped together. Digging beneath a loose stone, he retrieved the money he hadn't yet had time to send to his bank, stuffed it into the special pockets in his pants, and hurried to where his transportation awaited him. He was paying an exorbitant price for it so he expected it to be there. He was ready to enjoy the spoils he'd gathered and live in luxury for a good long while. Far away from all the people who wanted his hide.

  * * * *

  "I'm on my way to Key West,” Grant said into his cell phone. “I got the hell out of Tampa when one of Caine's private choppers started chasing us."

  "This whole thing is turning into a disaster.” Mac's anger came through the connection loud and clear. “Why is it so difficult to execute a simple operation?"

  Grant ground his teeth. “Because it isn't so damn simple.” He'd warned the man this was a big mistake. Not his fault if no one chose to listen to him. “Is your man still hanging around Brancuzzi's marina?"

  "He was spotted and had to make himself scarce for a while. When he got back, Brancuzzi's boat was gone. And just because Caine used a female decoy doesn't mean Jennifer Sutherland isn't at his place. Or with Brancuzzi. Take your pick."

  In all his years doing wet work, Grant Douglas had never seen anything go to hell as fast as this assignment had. “Tell him to rent a boat and wait for me. I'll find the bastard. If the Sutherland woman isn't with Caine, she's with Brancuzzi. And her kid may be there, too. I'll bet half what you're paying me this whole thing with Ethan Caine was just to throw us off the track. Jerk our chains."

  "All right. I'll call him now.” The connection was silent for a long minute. “Don't botch this up. I can feel the feds breathing down my neck."

  He should worry more about botching it up himself.

  "You'll have more than the feds to worry about if I can't nail Brancuzzi and get hold of the woman. The feds stick you in a cell. Caine's people stick you in a box."

  "Just do it,” Mac snapped. “Call me when you've got everything in place.” He broke the connection.

  Grant dropped the cell phone on the seat. He'd surfed the Internet for Blackwater Charters and found a picture of Dino Brancuzzi's boat, then sent it to his cell phone. If the boat was anywhere in the Atlantic or the Gulf, he'd find it.

  * * * *

  Ethan had left the two thugs to his men, deciding he needed to be with his wife and the children. Lisa had a cool head and didn't panic easily, and Jamie was incredible for a kid his age, especially considering what he'd been through. His biggest concern was Deanne, who he wasn't sure had even recovered from seeing the man she believed was her father, John Sutherland, shot in cold blood. Then she'd been dragged more than a thousand miles to a house full of strangers.

  Jen had done a terrific job raising his daughter. His daughter! He could still hardly get his mind around that fact. Lisa was wonderful with her, reaching out to include Deanne in their everyday life. He knew that Jen would be calling the shots, deciding how and when he'd be involved in her life, but that was okay. And it made him think about a child with Lisa, something they'd put off discussing.

  Meanwhile, he had to get this stinking mess cleaned up, and their two prisoners weren't going to be any help, no matter what they did.

  Sean Garrett had called up to the house from the barn five minutes earlier but he had nothing to report. “I could beat these guys to death, boss, and they won't give it up. They're seasoned operatives who are used to whatever we can do to them."

  "For people with experience, they sure made a mistake this time."

  "They know that, and I think they're embarrassed. Other than that, nothing.” Ethan could hear the irritation in Sean's voice.

  "Have they asked to call anyone?"

  "Nope. They aren't even talking to each other. What do you want us to do with them?"

  "Take their fingerprints and have Maury run them through every data base he can get into. Then lock ‘em up in the training cell until we sort this out."

  "Done.” Sean clicked off.

  Mike was back from his little excursion in the air with no results, either.

  "By the time I got airborne and headed out to look for him, that chopper had landed from wherever it took off and was safely tucked away in someone's barn,” he told Ethan.

  Ethan lifted an eyebrow. “Not a hangar?"

  "No. There isn't one close enough, but there are still enough barns in this area big enough to hide a couple of planes."

  "Did you see anything that might lead you to one place rather than another?"

  "Again, no. Whoever this is, they know their stuff. Too well, as far as I'm concerned."

  "But not well enough to get around us,” Ethan pointed out. “All right. Lisa's got a fresh pot of coffee going in the kitchen and she and the kids have been baking cookies.” He grinned. “I'm sure they need help eating them. Help yourself and hang loose. I have a feeling we're through playing cops and robbers."

  Mike had barely left the den before the sat phone rang.

  "We've got four names for you,” Dino said, skipping a greeting. “Any one of them could be the one pulling Grant Douglas's strings."

  "But he won't necessarily be the brains behind the operation,” Ethan pointed out.

  "True. I was hoping you could give us a little more help there. Maybe get into some hidden files on these guys. I've gone as far as I can with my sources. These names are a little hot for me to handle."

  "I know just the person to ask.” Ethan's voice was tinged with anger and bitterness. “He owes me. He can pay up. What's your plan now? You can bet you're next on their list since they got nowhere here."

  "I know. Sneaking her onto the boat in that carton only bought us a little time, I guess. We'll be staying out on the water, away from the house and the marina. I'd like to be in the middle of the action, but my first priority is to keep Jen safe."

  "As it was from the beginning. All right. I'll see what I can find out for you."

  He disconnected the call, then dialed a number in Washington. The director owed him big. It was time to pay up.

  * * * *

  Dino had them on the move again. Jen sat beside him in the cockpit, tense but controlled. He could tell she was glad to be out in the fresh air again. Steering with one hand, he put one arm around her and hugged her against his body, feeling some of the tension that gripped her ease off.

  They were far enough out in the Atlantic that he could spot any strange boats around him. The only noise besides his own engines was a buzz in the sky overhead. Shading his eyes, he saw the tiny speck of a plane floating lazily against the clouds.

  Someone out for an afternoon spin, he thought to himself. Twenty minutes later, when the plane hadn't moved from the area, the back of his neck began to itch and the muscles at the base of his spine tightened.
>
  Son of a bitch.

  They were tracking him from the air. This was the last thing he'd expected. He'd only been focused on evading them on the water and on land. Well, hell.

  "Don't panic,” he told Jen, “but I think that plane up there is paying a little too much attention to us."

  She looked up and saw the tiny dot. “Is that someone after us? Can they really see us from there?"

  "I'd bet on it. And that they have a strong pair of field glasses trained on us right now.” He picked up his binoculars and adjusted the focus. “At least they aren't coming in with guns blazing."

  "Because they want me,” she guessed, “and now they know where I am."

  "Don't worry. They aren't going to get you. But hang on. We need to kick this up a notch."

  Calling on the maximum power of the twin diesels, he moved the throttles full ahead, turned the boat, and headed back the way they came.

  "Where are we going?” Jen asked.

  "Back towards land. I made a major miscalculation, figuring we could stay off their radar out here, moving from place to place. I wasn't expecting air surveillance. If we stay out now here we'll be sitting ducks. I know a place we can pull in and hide."

  "Then what?"

  "Then we prepare for unwelcome guests and I call Ethan and Mike to get us some fire power."

  * * * *

  Grant had marked the coordinates where he'd sighted Brancuzzi's boat, knowing the man would be looking for a place to slip into where he'd be out of the way. But Grant was used to this. He'd followed this drill so many times before it was almost second nature to him. Too bad the jerks in Tampa had gotten themselves caught. Mac had assured him they knew what they were doing. So much for that. Next time he'd pick the men himself. If he made it to a next time.

  Maybe this was a signal to him that it was time to get out of the game. Luck only held for so long, and he needed to get out before he lost his edge and ended up like those two jokers who'd gotten themselves caught.

  Thankfully he didn't hit much traffic from the small airport to the marina where Mac's man was waiting for him with a fast speedboat and the requested arms.

  "You ever done this before?” he asked the man, who told him his name was Chuck.

  "Chased a phantom? Sure. Want me to drive or look?"

  "Drive. You know these waters better than I do.” Grant handed him a slip of paper. “Here's where I spotted them. My guess is they headed back towards Key West, looking to lose themselves in the crowd of boats on the water and then slip into a hiding place.” He flipped open his cell phone and hit the camera button. “Here's what the boat he's using looks like."

  Chuck studied it. “Big son of a bitch. Not too many places to stash it away. I know all the little coves and lagoons around here. We'll find them."

  In seconds they had cast off and were pulling away from the dock.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Fourteen

  The closer they got to Key West, the more tourist traffic they found out on the water. Dino maneuvered them skillfully through the other boats, slowing down when they got within a mile of the marina.

  "There's a place here I'm looking for,” he told Jen. “I used it once before. Ah, there it is."

  He throttled back so far they were almost drifting as he guided the boat around a bend and into a little cove. Land covered with thick foliage jutted out far enough on either side of the narrow inlet to provide as much camouflage as they were going to get. Dino set the engines to idle and picked up the sat phone.

  "Time to send in reinforcements, E,” he said into the phone. Dino explained their situation and gave his coordinates. “We need Mike and a shooter. And not you, Big Daddy. You manage this from home."

  He knew Ethan would be itching to get into the action, but the man was also sensible enough not to risk his life unnecessarily anymore.

  "I'll have him pick up Angel. He'll be on his way as soon as I hang up."

  Dino disconnected the call and turned to Jen.

  "Have you ever fired a gun? Do you know how to shoot?” He had to give her some kind of protection. Just in case the worst happened.

  Her face paled and she swallowed. Hard. “Not for a long time."

  "That's all right. It's like riding a horse or a bike. The muscles never forget.” He flipped open a tiny cubbyhole beside the wheel and pulled out a handgun. “This is an H&K Compact 9mm. Small enough to fit your hand but still with a good kick. Try holding it."

  He placed it in her hands and fitted her fingers around the grip. He watched as she automatically shifted her hands to a more secure position, aiming away from him and sighting down the line.

  Good. Better than good. She'll handle it.

  "I can do this,” she told him.

  "I have every confidence in you, cara.” He took the gun back, checked the clip and racked the slide. “You're all set. There's one in the chamber and five left in the clip. If anyone gets past me, don't hesitate. Just shoot and keep shooting. Okay?"

  She was still pale but he watched as she visibly gathered herself and nodded.

  "I'm fine. But I know you'll handle things."

  He kissed her forehead. “Your confidence is overwhelming. I'll handle things. The gun is just added insurance. Let's go below so I can get ready."

  In the salon he unlocked a cupboard built into the paneling and saw Jen's eyes widen as he removed part of its contents. “Another H&K,” he told her, holding it up. “Just bigger.” He held up the next one. “An assault rifle, made to break down. And...” he showed her the last piece of artillery, a large handgun, “...a Kimber 40mm."

  "I'm impressed."

  "Good. Let's hope our friends are, too.” He stuffed extra ammunition in a small canvas bag he took out and slung over his shoulder. Then he settled Jen on the couch out of sight of the stairs and made sure she had a good grip on the gun.

  She was still staring at all of his weapons.

  He shaped his lips into a wry grin. “I don't expect to use them all, Jen. And the Kimber is just added insurance. Okay?"

  She clutched the gun and nodded. “Do whatever you have to."

  "Okay.” He flipped a switch on a wall panel that was part of his security system. To anyone else it looked like nothing more than an intercom. “If trouble shows up I'll let you know through this."

  She nodded and he took the steps to the deck two at a time, then jogged up to the cockpit. With the rifle slung over his shoulder and the 9mm in his hand, he settled down to wait.

  * * * *

  Henry looked at the Caller ID on his phone and gritted his teeth. Now what?

  "The shipment is here,” the voice told him.

  "Already?"

  "That idiot Waters sent it expedited. We're just lucky I've had things come in this way before and customs didn't do any more than glance at the manifest and declaration."

  "You need to hide those pieces until we clean up this mess."

  "What about the buyers?"

  Henry gave a humorless chuckle. “You really want to do this before we get this mess cleaned up?"

  "I want to get them out of my hands,” the voice snapped. “I have a great deal to lose."

  "As do we all.” He gritted his teeth. “Just lock them away where you usually do and keep calm. I understand Mac's man has the Sutherland woman in his sights. This will all be over soon."

  "It damn well better be."

  He winced as the phone slammed in his ear. Calming himself, he dialed Mac's private line.

  "What?"

  "Don't get testy with me,” Henry said. “Just tell me your man has everything under control and we'll be fine."

  "I'll have a report shortly. Don't call me. I have people coming to my office. I'll get back to you."

  Henry was left holding a dead phone. Reaching in his desk drawer, he fished out a small bottle of antacid tablets and tossed two in his mouth, then massaged his stomach. He'd be lucky if he lived to enjoy the fruits of all this.


  * * * *

  Chuck slowed the boat down to give Grant the opportunity to scan both shorelines. They were well away from Key West by now and moving away from the worst of the traffic congestion.

  "There.” Grant's hand touched his shoulder. “I think I see something. Slow down a little more."

  Chuck obligingly throttled back a little, trying to see where Grant was looking. Sunlight glinted briefly on something metallic, then was gone.

  "You think that's his boat? In that cove we just passed?” Chuck took another quick glance over his shoulder.

  "Can you get a boat that size in there?” Grant asked. “You'd know that better than me."

  "If you know what you're doing.” They were having to shout to be heard over the roar of the boat's engines. “And he probably does. The water's pretty deep until you're almost on shore."

  Grant crouched down so he could speak directly into Chuck's ear. “Okay. Come around, then throttle back again and move in as slowly as you can. If he hears us and tries to outrun us we can still nail him."

  He checked the load on his Glock 9mm and slung the strap of a rifle over his shoulder. Then he crouched down in the seat and kept his eyes trained on the shore to their right.

  * * * *

  Dino heard them coming up on his left, trolling close to the shore as slowly as a speedboat could. He positioned himself below the windshield of the cockpit, tucked in out of sight but with the entrance to their hiding place still visible.

  Pulling the microphone down to his mouth he said in a low voice, “We've got company coming, Jen. Be prepared just in case."

  He heard the engine moving closer, identifying it as an inboard for a fast boat.

  Come on, Mike, wherever you are. Get here now.

  He saw the speedboat nose into the inlet, then it disappeared below his line of sight. He waited, finger on the trigger. Suddenly the crack! crack! crack! of an assault rifle split the air and bullets stitched across the windshield and the side of the cockpit.

 

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