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

  "I was just curious, Liz. You really think he likes me? Independent of whatever he's up to with Cruz?"

  "I think he did, but I'm not sure it matters. He was still up to no good. Anyway, whatever he felt for you, you squelched it. Why are you even worried about that now?"

  "I still want to learn how to do this girl stuff. I just need to find the right guy."

  "I think I've created a monster," Liz said, shaking her head. "Your skills are adequate, at this stage. I'm not sure what more I can teach you."

  "Aw, come on, Liz. I've still got a lot to learn. What you did with your hair -- that was really something. I'd never have thought of that."

  "You don't have enough hair to do that, Dani."

  "You think I should let my hair grow out?"

  "Let me think about that. We need to decide what we're going to do with your latest conquest. We're a good three hours from the dock, if we turn around now."

  "Okay. Good point. Let's hold our course until after we question him. There's nobody around out here to wonder what we're doing. If we turn around, we'll be more likely to run into other boats before we're done."

  ****

  Chapter 19

  "Did you have a good run?" J.-P. asked, as Phillip joined him at the table on the veranda of the Star Island villa.

  "Pretty good," Phillip said, his hair still damp from his shower. He pulled out a chair and sat down, pouring himself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher on the table. He took a sip. "Mm," he said. "Fresh-squeezed?"

  J.-P. nodded. "Thanks to Anne."

  "Where is she?"

  "Resting. She says I've worn her out with all the sightseeing."

  "Good," Phillip said. "Then I won't feel guilty about taking up your time this morning."

  "What is it that you wish?" J.-P. asked.

  "Running always stimulates my thoughts," Phillip said. "A couple of things occurred to me. I'm not comfortable with Rick Olsen, for one. I'm not sure who he's reporting to, and he's not at liberty to tell me."

  "This is strange to me. I've mentioned that before. You are totally at his mercy."

  "Yes. My comfort with him comes from the days when we were in the military. We were working under the direction of the agency, but the constraints were well defined. Our situation is different now. It's not that I don't trust Rick personally, but I worry that he may be naïve, in a certain sense. During my time with you after I retired from the service, I developed an understanding of how fuzzy the chain of command is in the civilian intelligence organizations."

  "What are you saying, Phillip?"

  "I trust Rick, but I don't trust the people around him, and I don't think he's cynical enough to guide us through this."

  J.-P. nodded. "You are in the best position to make that evaluation. I don't know him or the organization as well as you do. I have always been held at a distance from people like these. You have some ideas about how we should proceed?"

  "Yes. I'm going to be selective in what I share with Rick until we know more. I was ready to accept their decision on whether we should go ahead with Martínez, until Rick told me that they said we effectively had no choice."

  "Do you have a plan to deal with them?" J.-P. asked.

  "The beginnings of one, anyway. We don't know enough about this scheme the exiles have. Mario told you that Cruz is connected to Alpha-66, but Martínez claims to be working for a consortium of exile organizations. I'd like to at least know which others are behind him."

  "You asked him, did you not?"

  "I did, and he was evasive. He wouldn't name any of them."

  "I could ask Mario; he knows all of the old guard in the exile community," J.-P. said.

  Phillip smiled. "You read my mind."

  "It is an obvious thing," J.-P. said.

  "I should have thought of it sooner," Phillip said, shaking his head.

  "Do not be hard on yourself," J.-P. said. "We did not have a reason to ask him earlier. I will call him now. Can you think of anything else I should ask him?"

  "Not really, but it would be nice to know if there are any of the exile groups that we can rule out, as well as which ones are most likely to be behind Martínez."

  "I will ask. What are you going to do now? I think you have some other ideas, no?"

  "Yes. I'm going to call Olsen and ask for a meeting. I want to look him in the eye when I talk with him this time. And I want to make sure that we don't have an audience."

  "An audience? I thought he gave you an encrypted phone of some kind."

  "Yes, he did. He even hinted that it would explode if I called anyone besides him with it."

  "You think it is not secure, then?"

  "It was provided by the people he's working for -- the same ones who are willing to blackmail us."

  "Ah! I see. Where is it now, this device he gave you?"

  "In the microwave oven in the kitchen."

  "What?" J.-P. raised an eyebrow. "The microwave?"

  "A microwave oven makes a good RF shield, a poor man's Faraday cage."

  J.-P. grinned. "So you are thinking that this telephone may allow them to hear what you are saying, even when it is turned off?"

  "Not when it's in the microwave," Phillip said.

  "But what if someone turns on the oven? Might it activate the explosive charge?"

  "It might, if there is an explosive charge. I taped a warning note to the microwave, asking people to talk to me before using it -- that it was dangerous."

  J.-P. laughed. "Have you heard from Martínez recently?"

  "Not since late yesterday afternoon, but I'll bet he'll show up once I meet with Olsen."

  "You are testing to see if Martínez still has an inside source."

  "Yes. And if he does, then we'll know that we can use Olsen to plant misinformation with Martínez."

  "To what end, Phillip?"

  "I don't know yet. That depends on what we learn from Mario."

  J.-P. laughed again, a deep, contagious belly laugh. Phillip joined in, and J.-P. stood up.

  Slapping Phillip on the shoulder, he said, "I go now, to call Mario. I will be back soon. I think it is best if I am alone when I speak with him, yes? So that he does not hear some background noise that gives away my location?"

  "Yes. We wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," Phillip said.

  ****

  "That should do it," Dani said, crouching in front of Ortiz as she wired the pin in the shackle that secured the heavy chain wrapped several times around his torso.

  "I should think so," Liz said. "Are you planning to go through with this? I mean drowning him?"

  Dani looked over her shoulder at Liz and shrugged. "I could go either way; it depends on him, at this point. How do you feel about that? Does it bother you?"

  "A little," Liz said, "but I'll get over it. I was more worried about what alternative we have. It's like that joke that Sharktooth tells."

  "You mean the one about the man who has the Devil trapped in the oil drum?"

  "Yes." Liz laughed. "We don't need any help holding him, but turning him loose might be a whole different story."

  "As I said, it depends on him," Dani said.

  "What could he say that would make you trust him that much? To let him go?"

  "Probably nothing, but I have to give him a chance. Otherwise, it's cold-blooded murder. You don't think I'm that kind of woman, do you?"

  Liz looked at her, keeping her face expressionless.

  "Liz! Answer me, damn it!"

  Dani's face flushed and she jumped to her feet, taking a menacing step toward her friend. Liz burst out laughing, doubling over and hugging herself. Dani paused, a grin replacing the anger on her face, and then she joined in the laughter.

  "It wouldn't be cold-blooded, Dani. He provoked you. Let's get on with it. We need to be on our way back. We don't want to run into that four-knot outgoing tidal current in the Government Cut entrance channel."

  "Right," Dani said. She turned to the bow pulpit and lifted the high-
pressure wash-down hose. "Can you turn on the water?"

  Liz reached for the ball valve near the gunwale and gave it a quarter turn. The hose stiffened in Dani's hand. She aimed the nozzle at Ortiz's face and squeezed, sending a solid stream of seawater up his nose.

  "Kind of like water boarding," she said.

  Ortiz lay on his left side, his wrists and ankles tied together behind him. As Dani played the water over his face, he gagged and began to cough. When his eyes snapped open, she released the lever on the pistol-grip nozzle.

  After half a minute of coughing, Ortiz caught his breath and looked first at Dani, then at Liz, his eyes round with terror. "What are you -- "

  His question ended with a grunt as Dani kicked him in the solar plexus. The kick was delivered with measured force, just enough to let him know what she could have done. "We'll ask the questions, David. You speak when you're told to, okay?"

  He nodded.

  "Do you work for Manny Cruz?"

  "Yes. I can exp-- "

  She kicked him again, almost gently. "We'll get to that. Remember, just answer our questions for now, okay?"

  He nodded.

  "Cruz owns a real estate brokerage. Is that right?"

  "Yes. I -- "

  Liz bent down, her index finger wagging back and forth in his face.

  "Sorry," he said. She stood back up.

  Dani nodded. "And are you a sales agent?"

  "Yes."

  "Is Cruz involved in anti-Castro activity?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you involved in that with him?"

  "Uh ... " he cringed as Dani shifted her weight and drew her foot back. "Yes!"

  She relaxed her stance. "Did he put you up to meeting me so that you could spy on my father and Phillip?"

  "Yes."

  "You son of a bitch," she murmured. "What did he tell you to look for?"

  "At first, the plan was to kidnap you, to force your father to provide arms for an invasion of Cuba." He stopped, waiting for a cue.

  "At first?" Dani said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "But the plan changed?" Dani asked.

  "Yes. Martínez said we didn't need to do that, that it would be better to have me inside your group to report back. Or to do whatever they needed me to do, I guess."

  "Martínez?" Liz asked.

  "Not now, Liz. Hold that thought, though," Dani said. "So you knew who I was that night we met in the club?"

  "Yes. Cruz told me and Lupita about you."

  "Lupita," Dani said. "She worked for Cruz, too?"

  "Yes. Actually ... " he paused, looking at Dani in alarm.

  She nodded. "Actually what?"

  "She worked for a guy named Santos."

  "You told me she worked for someone with a lot of rental property," Dani said, squatting down and glaring at him, putting the hose nozzle against his upper lip and aiming it up his nose. "Was that Santos?"

  "Yes," he said, flinching away from the nozzle. "Please? I'm cooperating, okay?"

  Dani moved the nozzle back a few inches. "If she worked for Santos, why was she involved with Cruz?"

  "Santos works for Cruz, but they keep that a secret. It was like I told you; Lupita beat people up for Santos. He and Cruz smuggle Haitians into the U.S. and then exploit them. The rental units are in Little Haiti."

  "Why was she taking pictures of you and me?" Dani asked.

  "Cruz put her up to it, I'm sure, but I don't know what he had in mind. Blackmail, maybe? In case your father didn't want to deal? I'm guessing. I know he put her up to bugging my apartment. Video cameras, too. They wanted me to take you there, and ... you know."

  Dani tensed, drawing back to strike, but Liz put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing at first, then patting her when she felt Dani relax.

  "Keep talking, David," Liz said. "What else can you tell us about Lupita? You met her on the beach, right? After you left Dani that first night?"

  "Yes. The original plan was that I was supposed to take you out to dinner, Dani. When you and I left the club, Lupita and I were going to snatch you. She called me because Martínez changed the plan."

  "How did you even know we were going to that night club?" Liz asked.

  "Lupita was following you. She called me and let me know."

  "That's the second time you've mentioned this Martínez," Dani said. "Who is he?"

  "He seems to be the guy calling the shots on this whole invasion thing. I never met him; Lupita told me about him. She was in charge; she gave me my orders and reported back to Cruz."

  "Not to Santos?"

  "No. Santos isn't Cuban. He's from the Dominican Republic, so I don't think Martínez trusts him. Maybe he doesn't even know about him. See, Lupita was sleeping with Cruz. But then she got beat up really badly, and I started working directly for Cruz."

  "Lupita met Martínez, but you didn't? Even after you started reporting to Cruz directly?" Dani asked.

  "Right. But by then, Martínez had already pulled back. There was another guy telling Cruz what to do by the time Lupita was killed. 'Willy,' she called him. I don't know -- "

  "Wait," Liz interrupted. "Lupita's dead?" She looked at Dani, frowning.

  Dani shook her head. "You said she was killed?"

  "The hospital told Santos she had a heart attack, but we didn't believe it. She was super-fit, in her twenties, a professional fighter ... somebody took her out. At least that's what Cruz and I figured."

  "Why would someone kill her?"

  "We don't know; they have no idea who did it. She pissed off a lot of people, though. It could have been anybody."

  Dani sat back on her heels, studying Ortiz. After about a minute, she said. "Well, David, it's been fun, but Liz and I need to get back to Miami before the tide turns. Do you know the story of Scheherazade?"

  Ortiz frowned. "The Arabian Nights?"

  "If you've run out of stories to hold our interest, it's time to say goodbye."

  "I don't understand."

  "Can you swim?"

  "Not tied up like this. And this chain ... I'll sink."

  "Mm," Dani said. "That's right. I guess this is goodbye, then."

  "You could cut me loose and throw me over the side. That would give you a good head start, even if I made it back. How far out are we?"

  "Probably too far," Dani said. "Besides, the Gulf Stream's full of sharks. It's better with the chain. It'll be quicker. You've been a good boy; I'll knock you out before we drop you, if you want."

  "What are you ... you can't just dump me out here! I'm a federal agent."

  "Bullshit!" Dani said. "Lupita was right; you're just a pinguera."

  "When did you talk to ... wait ... I'm undercover. Seriously."

  "You're going to be undercover, underwater. You're no federal agent, asshole."

  "We've got a few minutes, yet, Dani," Liz said. "Let's see how good a story he can tell."

  "I can prove it, if you'll make a phone call," Ortiz said.

  "Not so fast," Dani said. "Tell us your whole story, Princess Scheherazade. Don't leave out anything. I'll give you five minutes. Then we'll see."

  ****

  "Why the insistence on a face-to-face meeting, Phillip? What's going on?" Rick Olsen asked.

  "I've gotten uncomfortable with this whole situation since our last meeting, Rick."

  "Want to tell me why?"

  "There are too many things that don't add up. I think someone in your chain of command is compromised. The -- "

  "My chain of command?" Rick Olsen's face was red. "Do you realize that's tantamount to saying the director is compromised?"

  "Is it? I'm not clear on your chain of command, or even which 'director' we're talking about. Martínez seems to know more about what's going on in your shop than you and I do."

  Olsen walked along the boardwalk without saying anything for several steps. Phillip let the silence hang until Olsen broke it.

  "I interrupted you," Olsen said.

  "That's all right. I'm not sure how much mor
e I should say."

  "You may as well talk it out, Phillip. You obviously didn't want to do this on the secure phone."

  "That's another thing. I don't know how secure it is; the same people who threatened to blackmail me if I didn't go their way are the people who provided it."

  "You have to trust somebody, Phillip."

  Phillip stopped, and so did Olsen. Olsen faced him, looking him in the eye.

  "There are some people I trust," Phillip said, holding Olsen's gaze.

  "But I'm not one of them?" Olsen asked.

  Phillip shrugged and began walking again. "Martínez is certainly not one of them, and neither is whoever you're working for."

  "What are you playing at, Phillip? I don't understand what you want."

  "You're asking me and J.-P. to go ahead with this on our own, without the government's blessing. Not only are we on our own, but you've told me we don't have a choice. We'll be left holding the bag if we don't go ahead, and there's no guarantee the government won't bust us along with Martínez if we do. Is that a fair description of the situation?"

  "Yes, but ... you're saying you don't trust the government?"

  "Is that what you thought I meant, Rick?"

  "Possibly. I'm not sure."

  "Good. Welcome to the game. You and the government can try guessing what's happening, for a change. I take it these people you call the government haven't seen fit to put a tail on Martínez?"

  "They don't think it's warranted."

  "Do they know the man who's giving him his orders?"

  "You mean, among the exiles?"

  "I survived 20 years in the field because I never made assumptions like that, Rick. I don't know who's pulling his strings. Do you?"

  "I thought he was working for the exiles," Olsen said.

  "So he says. There are all kinds of exiles."

  "I don't think I can help you, Phillip. I can't figure out what you want."

  "It's simple enough. We want to know who's trying to buy weapons from us and why."

  "It's just a few rifles, Phillip."

  Phillip stopped again, and looked at Olsen, who paused and faced him.

  After a moment, Olsen said, "Well, okay, and some mortars and a machine gun or two. We aren't talking about starting World War III. They could probably scrape this stuff together at gun shows, given time."