Bluewater Revolution: The Twelfth Novel in the Bluewater Thriller Series - Mystery and Adventure in Florida, Cuba, and the Caribbean (Bluewater Thrillers Book 12)

by Charles Dougherty

"If he can help it?" Connie said. "That's comforting. Why would he not be able to help it?"

  "Orders," Phillip said. "Everybody's ultimately expendable."

  "How can you live like that?" Connie asked.

  Phillip shrugged. "I've done all right so far. It's only a little different from being in combat. When you join the military, you give the government a blank check; they can fill in any amount they want, up to and including your life."

  "But that's different," Connie said.

  "Maybe, but we're wandering off the subject now. Your questions are good, but in my line of work, you have to constantly re-evaluate your situation. You're always in business for yourself. Remember, we're not committed to anything right now."

  "What happens next?" Paul asked.

  "When we're done, I'll tell Olsen that they're ready for a sample shipment as soon as we get the go ahead. That's when I'll need help, probably."

  "For the sample shipment?" Paul said.

  "Yes. I need to get in touch with Sharktooth. We'll need a big power boat. We'll pick up the shipment in the Bahamas, on the west side of Andros Island. The delivery is in Whitehall Bay, up the Shark River from the Gulf. Somebody'll need to ride with him, but I'll want help securing the delivery area as well. I'll keep you posted."

  "Where are J.-P. and Anne, anyway?" Liz asked. "I haven't seen much of them."

  "Anne hasn't spent much time in the States. J.-P.'s showing her the sights."

  "And how about Mario's birthday?"

  "I don't know when this will all come together; it could be before or after," Phillip said.

  "Before or after what?" Dani interrupted, a scowl on her face as she approached the table.

  "You're back!" Liz said.

  "I sense I missed out on something. What's going on?"

  "I think we're done," Phillip said. "I need to go call Olsen and see about the next step. Liz, why don't you fill Dani in, and we'll get back together in a few hours over dinner?"

  Liz nodded, and Dani said, "Good. I need to talk to you anyway, Liz."

  ****

  "Martínez wants to move ahead with a sample order?" Olsen asked.

  "Right," Phillip said.

  "And how did you leave it with him?"

  "I reminded him that we had not yet made a commitment," Phillip said, "but he's pushing for a close. His view is that your appointment itself is a commitment of sorts."

  "He has a point, I guess," Olsen said. "Can you tell if he still has inside information?"

  "He hints that he does, but I can't tell."

  "Where do you stand as far as being ready to deliver?" Olsen asked.

  "In terms of the sample order?" Phillip asked. "A couple of days."

  "Hmm," Olsen said. "How's J.P. feeling about this?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Is he inclined to go for it? Or is he in wait-and-see mode?"

  "Are you asking whether he would do it without government concurrence?"

  "Yes, that's my question."

  "I don't understand why you're asking that," Phillip said.

  "I'm trying to read between the lines, myself," Olsen said. "I can't tell quite what's going on here. I'm getting some strong signals that our Uncle wants this to happen, but he doesn't want to be the one who says, 'Do it.'"

  "Cold feet?"

  "Not exactly. I think they want it both ways."

  "What's going on, Rick?"

  "This is purely guesswork on my part, you understand."

  "Okay, go ahead and guess."

  "I think someone in the chain of command wants to make a sting operation out of this, Phillip."

  "And who gets stung? Are you thinking they want to burn the exiles?"

  "Yes. Then they could say to the world that we're tough on terror."

  "I don't like the way that feels."

  "I don't blame you. See what J.-P. thinks and get back to me. Maybe I'll get some clarification in the meantime."

  "I don't need to talk with him. There's no way we'll do this without the government's okay."

  "What if you talked Martínez into a delivery outside the U.S.?"

  "That doesn't change anything. There are other people Martínez can turn to if his principals want that. J.-P. and I have too much history with the U.S. to play games like that. You of all people should know that, Rick. I'm surprised you'd even ask."

  "I wouldn't have, personally. You follow?"

  "Yes. Tell them no."

  "I already did."

  "Then why are we having this conversation?"

  "'No' wasn't an acceptable answer."

  "What are you saying, Rick?"

  "They're thinking of busting the delivery. There was a suggestion that if you didn't go along, there was a high probability that you and J.-P. would get caught up in the bust."

  "If we don't go along, there won't be a delivery, so there won't be a bust."

  "Don't be naïve, Phillip."

  "You're suggesting that if we don't go along, they'll frame us and bust the exiles anyway? What, with their own people providing the weapons?"

  "I didn't say that, did I?"

  "No. It's just my suspicious nature, Rick. What's the percentage for them in that?"

  "I'm not sure. It could just be some zealous bureaucrat at work, but who knows?"

  "Given that, what guarantee do we have that they won't say one thing and do another?"

  "You're asking me why you should trust them if they're willing to blackmail you into this?"

  "Yes, exactly."

  "A fair question. You want me to ask them?"

  "Not yet. I need to think this through and talk it over with J.-P."

  "Fair enough, Phillip. I'll pass along the latest from Martínez. Anything else?"

  "Yes. What about the tail on Martínez?"

  "No answer on that. They're dragging their feet. I'll let you know when and if."

  "Thanks, Rick. I'll be in touch."

  ****

  "What's going on, Liz? What did I miss?"

  Dani was sitting in Vengeance's saloon, and Liz was busy in the galley, opening a bottle of chilled white table wine. She poured two glasses and took them to the saloon. Putting one on the table in front of Dani, Liz sat down across from her.

  "A mercenary Phillip knows from years ago has approached him about buying weapons for a group of Cuban exiles planning to overthrow the Cuban government."

  Dani forced a laugh and took a sip of wine. "Big deal. There's been a new plot like that once a week ever since I can remember."

  "Maybe so, but Phillip seems to be taking this seriously. Anyway, he may want some help if the plot turns out to be real. On to the important topic, now. How did David like lunch?"

  Dani took a gulp from her glass. Swirling the remaining wine, she peered into the glass as if she were reading tea leaves. After several seconds, she swallowed the wine in her mouth and looked up at Liz, her countenance fierce. "That little asshole." She shook her head and drained the glass.

  "Uh-oh," Liz said. "Sorry I asked."

  "No," Dani said. "I need to talk about this."

  Liz nodded and took a sip of her wine, waiting. Dani stood and went back to the galley. She retrieved the open bottle and brought it back to the table, pouring herself another glass before she sat down.

  "Do you remember my telling you about his parents coming here from Cuba on a raft?"

  "Yes," Liz said. "When his mother was pregnant with him, right?"

  Dani took a smaller swallow of wine. After a moment, she said, "Yes. That was one version of the story, anyway."

  "Is there another version?"

  "Several. When I introduced him to Phillip, the story was a little different."

  Liz nodded.

  "Actually, a lot different. As in, his parents went to Martinique when things got rough after Castro."

  Liz shook her head. "What about the raft?"

  "That's what I wanted to know."

  "And did you ask him?"

  "Yes. I tried t
o when he was spinning the tale to Phillip, but the little shit cut me off. He wouldn't answer me; he just kept talking to Phillip."

  "What did he tell Phillip?"

  "That his parents went to Martinique to live with his grandmother's family after Castro came to power."

  "But you challenged him right then, I'm sure."

  "I damned sure did, the jerk."

  "And what did he say?"

  "That it was convoluted, and there was no need to bore Phillip. Asshole."

  "You pursued this with him after lunch, I take it?"

  "I did." Dani drained her glass again, and filled it.

  "That's three," Liz said.

  "What?" Dani barked.

  "Three glasses. In less than five minutes. Slow down, or you'll regret it before morning."

  "You're not my mother. Get off my case. I'll get smashed if I want to."

  "Well, at least in the morning, you'll have a reason."

  "A reason? For what?"

  "To feel sorry for yourself. This is great wine, but it'll give you a bitch of a hangover."

  "I can handle it."

  "I know; I've seen how you handle it, but suit yourself. Did David explain himself?"

  "He tried, but he just got in deeper and deeper. There was no raft. He just made that up. Thought it sounded romantic. All the little barflies he picks up fall for it, I guess."

  "Did you two break up?"

  "I don't know. I cursed him for lying to me. Then I threw my drink in his face and walked out on him. Does that count?"

  "It could, I guess. How'd he react?"

  "Surprised at first, and then scared."

  "Scared?" Liz asked. "Did you -- "

  "No. I didn't lay a hand on him. But I sure as hell wanted to, and I guess he could tell. He said I was acting like Lupita, the shithead. That's why he was scared. She didn't have my self-control."

  "That is scary," Liz said. "A woman with your temper, but without your monumental self-control. Wow!"

  "Don't you make fun of me," Dani said, her eyes tearing up. "I need you on my side." She choked back a sob.

  "I'm on your side. I shouldn't have said that. You did well not to smack him."

  Liz held her arms out and Dani put her wine down, spilling half of it. She leaned into Liz, putting her head on Liz's shoulder. Liz stroked her back for a minute, comforting her as she would a child.

  Dani sat up and sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "Thanks, Liz. Guess I won't land this one after all, huh?"

  "I don't think he was worth it," Liz said, measuring Dani's reaction. "Not even for catch and release."

  Dani grinned sheepishly and shook her head.

  "You okay?" Liz asked.

  "Yeah. Thanks. Tell me about this deal of Phillip's. I wouldn't mind a chance to kick some ass."

  "I don't know about that. I was worried about how to tell you this. You okay on the David situation?"

  "Yes, I think so. Why?"

  "I found out something about him this afternoon. At least I think I did."

  "About David? What? How?" Dani frowned. "Tell me."

  "The mercenary Phillip's been talking to picked him up in a car this afternoon for a meeting. Phillip sent Paul a text with the vehicle i.d. and the license plate number. He's trying to figure out whether this man's trustworthy."

  "Okay. What's that got to do with David Ortiz?"

  "The car belongs to a company called Manuel Cruz Realty Enterprises, LLC. Does that name mean anything to you?"

  "No." Dani shook her head. "Why?"

  "Because the bartender at the yacht club told me the other day that David Ortiz works there, for Manny Cruz. David entertains customers at the club on their corporate membership."

  Dani thought about that for a few minutes. "He never mentioned where he worked. I knew he sold real estate, but the agents are pretty independent, you know? It never occurred to me to ask where he worked. Did you ask the bartender about him?"

  "No. We were talking while I was waiting for my lunch, talking about men. You know, like ... Well, anyway, she saw me looking out the window at him and mentioned that he'd hit on her a time or two, but he wasn't her type."

  Dani's face flushed. "Damn him. I can't believe that makes me jealous."

  "Go easy on yourself, Dani. Emotions aren't rational; it's normal for you to feel a little sore and abused about now."

  Dani nodded, thinking. Liz waited.

  "That's probably not a coincidence, you know?" Dani said, breaking the silence.

  "I had the same thought," Liz said.

  "Did you mention it to Phillip?" Dani asked.

  "No. I wanted to talk with you about it first."

  "Good," Dani said. "I've got a plan."

  "What's that?"

  "I'm going to call David and apologize. I'll tell him, um ... "

  "You want advice on that?"

  "Sure, coach."

  "Just apologize. Don't give him any excuses. But where are you going with this?"

  "Oh, he made it clear he was really sorry; he wants to make it up to me, didn't want to lose me, all that stuff. You know."

  "Okay. So you apologize. Then what?"

  "We're going to take him sailing tomorrow. Just you and me and him, out in the Gulf Stream, out of sight of land. I'm going to find out what the asshole's up to."

  "Should we tell Phillip?"

  "We'll kind of have to; he'll see us getting on the boat, Liz."

  "No. I meant about the coincidence."

  "Oh. No, not yet. Let's keep that between us for now, until we know more. I don't want Phillip's nose in that just yet."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. This is my kind of game. Trust me."

  "Okay, coach," Liz said, grinning.

  ****

  Chapter 16

  "Do I understand this correctly, Phillip?" J.-P. Berger asked. "Olsen thinks there is some bureaucratic infighting going on?"

  "He only mentioned it as a possibility. I've never been able to tell what he thinks, precisely. He did present that as his personal opinion, though."

  "Does that mean it is not an official communication from your government?"

  "It might."

  "What do you think, Phillip?"

  "I think there are some factions in the U.S. government who don't agree on how to handle this situation. The right-wing hardliners are in favor of backing the exiles, but the moderates see us resuming diplomatic relations. Our dealings with the Cubans have thawed significantly in the last few years. The moderates see this as a betrayal of sorts. And then there's the argument that we'd be as guilty of terrorism as any of the extremists in the Middle East for allowing the exiles to mount an operation from our shores against a sovereign nation."

  "What do you think would happen if we walked away from this? It's small change, in a business sense," J.-P. said. "Is Olsen's warning about repercussions plausible?"

  "Maybe. It wouldn't be the first time our government has tried to do that kind of thing. Or, I should say, some person in our government. I don't think it would be prudent to ignore the possibility that we'd be blamed whether we participate or not."

  "How can we protect ourselves? Do you see a way?"

  "We're already in the middle. In effect, we're in a crossfire. We have Martínez and the exiles on one side, and the U.S. government on the other. Or maybe factions of the U.S. government on a couple of different sides. We need to break out and get behind our adversaries. Ambush them, in effect."

  "How would we do that?"

  "We start by trusting no one. Not the exiles, not the U.S., and not Olsen. Consider what would happen if the DGI found out about this from a credible source in the U.S. government."

  "A leak to the DGI?"

  "Yes."

  "But where does the leak come from?"

  "I don't know yet. Some agency that's outside this operation, and has something to gain from both sides by stopping it or exposing it."

  "But we'd be betraying the exiles
," J.-P. said. "That has some implications that I don't like."

  "I understand your worry, but so far, we have only Martínez's say-so that the exiles are even involved. Some local Cuban-American realtor named Manuel Cruz is helping Martínez with the logistics of our meetings."

  "Did Olsen tell you this?"

  "No." Phillip told J.-P. about Paul's information on the car. "I've held this back from Olsen. I asked him earlier for some help in tracking down Martínez, and he hasn't delivered."

  "You think he's holding back information on Martínez?" J.-P. asked.

  "Or somebody is. When I asked, Olsen said, 'They're dragging their feet.' But I don't know who 'they' are. I'd already guessed something strange was going on there. In the old days, Olsen would have committed to surveillance on Martínez without checking."

  "He had more leverage then," J.-P. said.

  "Yes. That's my point. For whatever reason, he's nothing but a messenger boy here, and I don't even know who he's working for."

  "But I thought he was working for the Director."

  "He's working for some director, no doubt. And it's somebody he knows, or he wouldn't be there. But I'm not getting the sense that he trusts whoever it is. Bear in mind that there are lots of 'directors' floating around in our security services. More now than there used to be when I was active, and there were plenty then."

  "So, we are on our own," J.-P. said, with a grin.

  Phillip grinned back. "Yes. Just the way we like it."

  "What's our goal here, then?"

  "To come through this intact. 'First, do no harm.' Since we don't know who's on which side, it's hard to plan farther ahead than that. If we can figure out who's good and who's not, we can adjust fire along the way, so to speak."

  "I have an idea," J.-P. said.

  "What are you thinking?"

  "We're overlooking Mario."

  "I thought you didn't want him involved."

  J.-P. shrugged. "Well, like other people, he's tried to retire from this business. Besides, I didn't want to risk spoiling the birthday surprise by bringing him into this."

  "What's changed?" Phillip asked.

  "Our risk assessment. What looked straightforward has become complex. And nobody knows the exile community better than he does. I can ask him about this without letting him know we're all in Miami. The surprise will not be spoiled."

  "If you can do that, it might be a big help."

  "I can do it, but it will have to wait until morning. If I were in Paris, I would be asleep now, so I can't call him tonight. Early in the morning, though, I will call and ask him about this Manuel Cruz, and José Martínez. Anyone else?"