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

  "Where are we going?"

  "Answer me, or I hurt you."

  She studied the gun for a moment. "I'll come without a struggle."

  "Good. Get in the car. You will drive. If you don't do like I say, I shoot you, but only so it causes pain. The first shot through your left calf, so you can keep driving. I know many places to shoot you without killing."

  "That won't be necessary," she said. "I told you I'd come without a struggle."

  He nodded and took a step back, giving her more room to get back into the car. "Climb over the console and fasten your seatbelt."

  When she was buckled in, he sat down in the passenger seat and closed the door, keeping the pistol trained on her legs. "Back out of the parking place and follow the signs to the exit."

  As she shifted into reverse and backed out, he took a knife from his shirt pocket, using his left hand. Keeping his eyes on her, he flicked it open with his left thumb and stuck the point under the roll of stocking below his chin. In one smooth stroke, he cut away the mask. Still watching her, he folded the knife closed and returned it to his shirt pocket.

  ****

  Chapter 27

  Ortiz blinked several times; the light dazzled him, and at first, it had no definition. As he stared at it, it appeared to move. The motion slowed, and at last, the light was steady. He closed his eyes, thinking the light made his head hurt. The pain didn't go away. He opened his eyes, blinking again, wondering where he was. He'd been asleep; maybe he was hung over.

  The surface beneath him was hard, unforgiving. He felt it with his right hand. "Concrete," he muttered. He turned his head to the right and saw the side of a sleek, red Porsche. That was familiar. To his left, several feet away, he saw a dark gray Mercedes roadster with the top down and the dark, tinted windows raised. Sitting up, he spotted foot-high numbers -- "219" -- stenciled on a white-painted concrete block wall.

  As the throbbing in his head receded, he realized he was in his parking place in the ground-level garage beneath the condo building where he lived. He'd brought Dani Berger here. He recalled watching Dani getting out of his car, but after that, he couldn't remember anything. He looked around, confirming where he was. His car wasn't here; and neither was Dani.

  He raised a hand to the side of his head and found his hair matted with blood. The area behind his right ear was tender to his touch. He'd brought Dani here at Cruz's instructions, expecting that he'd be told to take her somewhere else before morning. "Morning," he mumbled. "What time is it?" He looked at his watch. It was five minutes after one a.m. He'd only been out for a few minutes.

  His memory was returning quickly. He had seen a look of surprise on Dani's face, and then his head had exploded in a burst of bright light. Somebody must have hit him from behind and taken Dani and his car. Putting his right hand on the concrete floor, he levered himself onto his knees. Leaning against the red Porsche, he rose to a standing position, testing his equilibrium. Feeling steady on his feet, he patted himself down. Nothing was missing from his pockets except his car keys, which were on a separate ring from the key to his condo.

  "Not a mugger, then," he whispered to himself. He spent a few seconds thinking about what he should do. Cruz had sent him here, and his condo was bugged. Cruz would be wondering where he was, by now. So would Mary Weatherby and Dani's friends at Star Island. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and speed-dialed Cruz.

  "Somebody sandbagged me and took the girl and my car," he said, when Cruz answered.

  "Yeah?" Cruz said. "Who? Did you get a look at them?"

  "No," Ortiz said. "What do I do now?"

  "Stay cool, Ortiz. Have you called the cops?"

  "No. Should I?"

  "No, don't. That would waste too much time. I'll get somebody to work on it right away. We'll find her. Meanwhile, get your ass back to Star Island and let her father know what happened, okay?"

  "Should I call them first?"

  "Yeah, that's probably a reasonable thing to do. Call them and tell them; see if they have any idea who could be behind this. We picked up rumors that somebody else was trying to get her father to sell them a nuke."

  "Somebody else?" Ortiz asked. "Like who?"

  "Maybe some far-out, radical exile group. I don't know who they are, or if it's even real. Sounds like maybe it is, though."

  "You don't know what happened? One of our people didn't take her for some reason?"

  "You maybe got a concussion, Ortiz? Why the hell would one of our people take her? You are our people; you had her, man. You okay?"

  "No. I mean, yeah, I'm okay. But I didn't know about the other exile group. Maybe I wasn't careful enough. I thought once I got her here, we'd move her somewhere else. You know?"

  "Yeah, Ortiz. That was the plan, all right. I was going to have someone pick her up and then send you back to Star Island to tell her folks she'd been snatched by somebody. But now I don't know what the hell's going on."

  "So what should I do, Manny?"

  "Like we said. Call her people and tell them what happened. See if they got any ideas. Then go back to Star Island and hang out with them; help them figure out what to do, and stay in touch with me. The deal's going down tonight, so watch out for anything that might be suspicious, like we talked about, okay?"

  "Yeah, okay. I got it," Ortiz said.

  "Good. Glad you didn't get hurt bad," Cruz said. "I gotta go pass the word about this. Call me if anything changes." He disconnected the call.

  Ortiz thought for a few seconds and then dialed Mary Weatherby's cellphone number from memory.

  ****

  Dani glanced down at the dash display as Santos fiddled with the car's navigation system. She noticed that the pistol didn't waver, and he kept her in his peripheral vision. He'd done this kind of thing before. That was good in a way, she knew. It meant that he wouldn't shoot her by accident or in a moment of panic if something unexpected happened. On the other hand, it meant that he wasn't likely to slip up and give her an opening to escape.

  "Flamingo," she said, when he had finished working on the touch screen.

  "You know Flamingo?" he asked. "You been there?"

  "Yes. I spent a lot of time in this area when I was growing up."

  He was quiet for several seconds. "You know the way, then?"

  "Yes, I think so. It's been a few years. The roads might be different now."

  "Follow the GPS," he said. "It won't do you no good to try to make no wrong turns. That would make me mad."

  "Okay," she said. "Flamingo's like the edge of the world, from what I remember. How long have you been going there?"

  "Years," he said. "Why?"

  "Has it changed much? Gotten built up in the last ten years?"

  He laughed and shook his head. "No."

  "So it's still around a two-hour drive?" she asked.

  "Yeah. We ain't goin' all the way to Flamingo, though."

  "I don't remember anywhere to stop along the way," she said.

  "You know Coot Bay? Coot Bay Pond?" he asked.

  "No. Why?"

  "That's where we go. Coot Bay Pond."

  "What's there?"

  "We leave the car there and take a canoe."

  "Into the Everglades, huh?" she asked.

  "Yeah. Into the Everglades."

  "Did you bring mosquito repellent?" she asked.

  "Yeah, I got some. Don't worry. You gonna be fine, long as your friends deliver like they supposed to."

  "Are we going to the delivery location?"

  "You askin' a lot of questions."

  "The conversation keeps me alert," she said. "You know, driving this late at night, no traffic. It's boring, kind of dangerous. It's easy to drift off. It helps to have somebody to talk to. Or I could maybe listen to the radio if you'd rather."

  "That's okay. Maybe the radio later."

  "We could talk about something else," she offered.

  "Like what?"

  "Boats. Sailing. The islands. I think I hear a trace of the isla
nds in your voice."

  He grinned at her. "You can tell where I am from, maybe?"

  "Maybe. You aren't from one of the islands that used to be British."

  "No," he said.

  "Or French," she said.

  "No. You right so far."

  "Maybe I hear a trace of Papiamento, or it could be Spanish. I think Spanish."

  He grinned, waiting.

  "You don't sound Cuban. How about Puerto Rico?"

  He shook his head.

  "The Dominican Republic, then."

  "Yeah," he said. "I'm from the D.R. You got a good ear."

  "I've spent a lot of my life in the islands," she said.

  "Which ones?"

  "Up and down between St. Martin and Grenada. My father's from Martinique."

  "You sound American," he said.

  "My mother's from New York."

  "So, you are American, then?"

  "Except when I'm French."

  "When are you French?"

  "When we are working in the French islands."

  "We?"

  "My business partner and I."

  "What business? Arms?"

  "No. We own and operate a charter yacht."

  "From which island?"

  "Different ones. She's U.S. flagged, our boat. That makes it easier to attract American clients, but we pick up and drop off wherever the client wants."

  "That sounds like a good life. How are you involved in this arms business, then?"

  "By accident, I guess," she said. "My father and his friends are here to celebrate my godfather's birthday."

  "Your godfather, he lives in Miami?"

  "Yes, for a long time. He came from Cuba as a child, before Castro."

  "Ah, so he is why you are being used as a hostage. Your godfather, he is part of this plot?"

  "I don't know much about it," Dani said. "He and my father, they trade all kinds of goods all over the world. I'm just a simple sailor."

  "I see," he said.

  "So now you know about me. Tell me about you, Santos. How did you end up holding a gun on me and making me drive into the Everglades at 1:30 in the morning?"

  "It is the long story, like they say. And not so interesting."

  "We have the time, and we both need to stay alert. Tell me," she said.

  He sat for a few seconds, looking out the windshield, watching her from the corner of his eye. "You know Bahia de Samaná, and the town of Samaná?"

  "Only from hearing about them. We haven't sailed in there, but I hear it's beautiful."

  He laughed. "Perhaps, for rich tourists, it is beautiful. And maybe it has changed. For a small boy whose parents died, it was not so beautiful. So as soon as I could, I left. I got jobs on the little freighters, and when I came to Miami the first time, I decided to stay here. It was not easy ... "

  Dani kept him talking, noticing that the more he told her, the more he relaxed. Before they got to Flamingo, she would know his life's story.

  ****

  "Yes, of course I called Cruz, Mary," Ortiz said. He sat in the living room with the others, sipping coffee to stay awake.

  "But you didn't go up to your place? You never left the garage?"

  "I didn't want to go in there; I was worried that it would look out of character. I mean, we know they have it wired. I couldn't think of any reason I would go there under the circumstances, so I stuck to doing things that would be easily explained. Why?"

  "I wondered if there was any sign of intrusion," Weatherby said.

  "Wouldn't the listeners have picked up an intruder?"

  "They should have, but remember, we didn't wire the place, so we don't know where the blind spots are."

  "I didn't think of that. You want me to go back?"

  "No. That would be even harder to explain. It's probably not important. I just wondered. You say Cruz played dumb when you told him?"

  "Yes. I asked him point blank if one of our people -- you know, his people -- took her. He asked if my thoughts were scrambled from the blow to my head. 'Why would we do that? We already had her -- you had her,' he said, or something like that. He said there were rumors that there was another exile organization trying to buy nukes from J.-P. and Phillip. He suggested they may have taken her."

  "I imagine that he wanted you to come back here to spy on us," Connie said.

  "Yes, I thought the same thing," Ortiz said. "I asked him about that; I told him I had figured they were going to send somebody to pick her up from my place so I could come back here, and he agreed that he had planned to do that. He basically asked why he would have me attacked when I was on his team."

  "Are you persuaded by that argument?" Weatherby asked.

  "Not at all," Ortiz said. "It's plausible, though, and he presented it, so I have to pass it along. My gut tells me he set this up thinking that it would make my story to you more convincing. He is a devious bastard."

  "I think you're right," Luke said.

  "Me, too," Weatherby added. "But as you suggest, we should keep the other possibility in mind."

  "What about Dani?" Ortiz asked.

  "We put out a statewide alert for your car," Luke said. "That's the best we can do for now, unless we have an idea as to where they're going to take her, or for that matter, who took her."

  ****

  Chapter 28

  Maldonado put his cellphone down and grinned at Martínez. "You probably overheard enough to know that Santos has the Berger girl."

  "Yes. What about Ortiz?"

  "He has no idea what happened. As best Cruz can tell, he was only out for a few minutes. Santos was careful not to hit him too hard. He called Cruz when he came to; Cruz planted the idea of some rival exile group. Ortiz seemed to accept it. Cruz told him there were rumors of some group wanting to buy a nuke from Berger and Davis."

  Martínez laughed.

  "What's funny, José?"

  "I was imagining that Ortiz would tell Davis that some exile group that's trying to buy a nuke has kidnapped the girl."

  "He probably will; that's what we hoped, isn't it? To give Santos time to get clear with her?"

  "Yes, of course," Martínez said. "I hope the irony is not lost on Davis."

  "The irony?"

  "Yes. Davis started the story of the nuke. Never mind, Willy. Santos took Ortiz's car?"

  "Yes. I still think he should have switched cars. They'll put out an alert for it, you know."

  "It was not necessary to change cars. I explained that to you. It would have left more of a trail for them to follow, if they found Ortiz's car right away. As it is, Santos will abandon the car in the Everglades. By the time it's found and reported, this will be history."

  Maldonado nodded. "I hope that you are right, José."

  "I'm right. Is Ortiz going back to Star Island tonight?"

  "Yes. He's probably already told them. Cruz told him to call them right away, not to just show up there. He said Ortiz was acting a little confused, which he thought was a good thing. He wanted to make sure Ortiz behaved like a normal guy whose girlfriend was just kidnapped."

  "Good. The phone call would be the right thing, and then going there."

  "Will you call Davis? Or are you going to call her father?" Maldonado asked.

  "Davis. Why?"

  "Wouldn't it have more impact if you called her father?"

  "I've never dealt with her father; I couldn't read his reaction as well as I can Davis's. Besides, I don't want to alarm him. This isn't a kidnapping for extortion. They've already agreed to all the terms. This is just a little assurance that they will fulfill their commitment. We've sent them the money almost 24 hours in advance of delivery, and we've never inspected the weapons. I will present it this way to Davis. I don't want them to sense that she is being threatened. This is business."

  Maldonado nodded. "When will you make the call?"

  Martínez looked at his watch. "Soon. I want to allow time for Ortiz to get there; my call should be an assurance, not a surprise."


  ****

  "Shh!" Phillip said, looking at the screen of his cellphone. The incoming number was the one Martínez had used on his last call. "This is probably Martínez." He tapped the screen and said, "Hello," putting the phone in speaker mode so that the others could hear.

  "Good morning, señor. I hope that I did not wake you."

  "Hardly," Phillip said.

  "I did not think so. I trust that by now, you have heard from Ms. Berger's friend."

  "Yes."

  "He is well, I hope? We did not wish him any harm."

  "He's all right, yes," Phillip said. "So it was you, then."

  "Not me, personally, señor. But yes. I wanted you to know that we have Ms. Berger. She is well, and being treated with respect. It is not our intention to cause her father to worry. We mean no harm to her or any of you."

  "I'm not sure that's believable," Phillip said.

  "I understand, señor. Personally, I did not feel this was necessary, but my, ah, principals, they are nervous. We have paid the money, but we have not yet taken delivery of the goods. Nor have we even verified that you have them ready to deliver."

  "You know us better than that," Phillip said.

  "Yes, I do. But as I said, my associates ... "

  Phillip let the silence hang.

  "Señor?"

  "Yes?"

  "You understand?"

  "Don't expect me to condone your tactics. I thought you were trustworthy. Now I'm not so sure. You say your principals don't know us as well as you do. You should explain to them that actions like theirs may have unpleasant consequences for them."

  "Threats are not necessary, señor. They are honorable – "

  "That was no threat. They should watch their backs. You may have unleashed something I'm not at liberty to explain."

  "I think all will be well soon, señor. Ms. Berger will be at the delivery location we agreed to. I know you will do as promised, and you have my word that she will be turned over to your people the moment we have our goods."

  "I hope it goes as you say it will," Phillip said.

  "It will, señor. Please convey my assurances to Señor Berger. I called specifically to reassure him, because there was a rumor that his daughter was in the hands of that faction which is trying to buy the nuclear weapon. That is not so. I personally guarantee her safety."