Tortugas Rising

by Benjamin Wallace

  “Your temper is showing, Savage.” He spoke calmly while still smiling and acknowledging the adoration of members from the crowd.

  “Bennett and Nelson escaped. One of my men was killed by a lion. Why did you call me back here?”

  “What do you mean they escaped? They were just here, in this very room.”

  “Here?”

  “I spoke with them. They were dressed for the prom.”

  “And you let them go?”

  “They were here for the announcement. You spoke with them. They were here to become citizens.” There was a defensive hint in Warren Baxter’s voice.

  The red scar on Savage’s head intensified. “I never spoke to them.”

  Baxter stepped closer, turning his back to the crowd. He leaned in close, “I told you to explain the situation. I wanted Bennett on board. Now they know everything. What happened?”

  “The damn hippies showed up and opened fire. The two boys slipped off the edge of the boat.”

  “Find them. They were here moments ago.”

  The applause in the room finally subsided. The room full of investors was still loud, but there was a faint burst of fire from deep inside the hotel.

  Savage motioned to another security guard that was talking into his radio. The guard approached and spoke, “A group of the hostages escaped. They think it was Bennett and his friend.”

  Savage snatched the radio from the guard’s hand. He pressed the talk button with such force that the impact resistant plastic cracked under the pressure.

  “Follow them and wait for me. Understand? No one kills them but me.” He slammed the radio into its case and barked at the guard. “Give me your weapon.”

  The guard cowered as he handed over his gun. Savage chambered a round and placed the gun in his holster. He started to leave, but, before he could join the pursuit, Baxter stopped him.

  “I want them alive. The boy may need time to think this over. He just needs time.”

  “They shot me,” Savage protested.

  Warren Baxter sighed deeply. “I don’t need Bennett. But his company would make the first months here much easier. Being a Canadian entity, they could not cry treason.

  “Catch them and bring them to me. I’ll talk to Bennett myself.”

  Savage held up the radio. “They killed my men.”

  “Do it. Rest assured that in a few months we won’t need them at all. Then you can exact your revenge. For now they will be kept alive.”

  Before Savage could leave Baxter added, “And, please, take care of those damn hippies.”

  Savage stormed off to the far side of the room and flung open the door to the hallway.

  Baxter watched as the pneumatic arms retracted the door. It closed, and the party continued.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The open spiraled columns rose the full seven stories of the hotel. The spires on top continued beyond the roofline. Baxter had surely said that they were symbolic of something or other, but right now they meant a chance to escape.

  The columns were freestanding and a space of four feet separated them from the roofline. Katherine backed away from the building’s edge. She was beginning to panic. Her breaths were coming faster and growing briefer. There was no other way off the roof, but this was not an option for her.

  Steve saw the panic in her eyes and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Katherine? Katherine.”

  He could see that he was losing her. He leaned in and kissed her. Her breathing slowed, distracted by the kiss.

  It lingered longer than he had expected; but he enjoyed it. He pulled his lips away from hers.

  “I am terrified of heights.”

  He looked into her eyes and spoke softly. “If there was any other way we would take it. We have to do this.”

  She nodded; he could see that she was fighting the urge to lose control.

  “The gap isn’t that large. I’ll go first. The open part in the middle is big enough for us to fit inside.” He spoke slow, reassuring her with every word that it would be okay. “Paul will hold you until I have you. Once inside the column it will be a simple matter of lowering ourselves down.”

  She bit her lip and nodded again. He didn’t know if she was agreeing or building up her confidence.

  “You can do this.”

  She looked deep into his eyes and found the confidence she needed.

  “There’s a fire escape,” Paul interrupted.

  “What?”

  “There’s a fire escape. In the back.”

  Steve grabbed Katherine’s hand and followed Paul to the rear edge of the roof and peered over. It wasn’t a fire escape, but an access ladder. It was placed in a recess in the building and was painted to match the exterior. It blended in perfectly.

  “I’ll go first, you follow behind me.”

  Katherine agreed and Steve disappeared over the side. Paul took Katherine’s hand and helped her over the edge of the building. He smiled at her and whispered. “I think he likes you.”

  Katherine cautiously followed Bennett down the ladder. Each step was preceded by a deep breath. The paint scheme on the ladder was so perfectly matched to the wall that she found herself descending by touch rather than by sight.

  Each rung brought her closer to the ground and she focused only on reaching the safety of terra firma. She built a steady rhythm and found herself moving quickly, only slowing when she stepped on Steve’s hand.

  He didn’t react, but it hurt.

  She slowed her descent, quickly counting to three before lowering each foot to the next rung.

  # # #

  Back on the roof, Paul took Brittany by the hand. Her rescue attempt seemed to have eased the shock of the situation. Since grabbing her from the line of fire in the hallway, this was the first time Paul had really looked at her.

  She was gorgeous. In addition to the training, she had also retained the body of a lifeguard. He noted that she wouldn’t be doing any bay watching, but she was in perfect shape – even the wound on her leg couldn’t slow her down. Her blonde hair draped slightly over her shoulders and she looked at him with green eyes that warmed his heart like a shot of Jack Daniels. For the ninth time since stepping off the plane in Florida that morning, Paul Nelson fell in love.

  “I’m Paul.”

  “Brittany.”

  He took her hand and helped her up over the ledge. She placed her feet on the top rung of the ladder.

  “Brittany. Do you like limericks?”

  She smiled. Steve yelled. Paul gently let go of Brittany’s hand and she started to climb down the ladder.

  “This place is great.” Paul smiled and threw his leg over the ledge.

  # # #

  Steve had reached the last ten feet of the ladder only to find it blocked by a panel of sheet metal padlocked over the ground level rungs. He told Katherine to hold. She had kept up her constant rhythm and had almost overtaken him a couple of times. Now that she had to wait, her fear began to build.

  Steve let his legs dangle free and lowered himself rung by rung by hand until he was gripping the sheet metal. It was thin and it bit into his fingers. His six-foot figure put his feet a mere four feet from the ground. He let go and dropped.

  Normally the impact would have been minimal, but his tired legs failed to absorb the shock. He lurched forward into the sheet metal panel with a bang and fell backwards.

  He was able to roll and avoid hitting his head, but it still took him a moment to recover.

  “Steve?”

  “I’m okay. Lower yourself down and stand on my shoulders.” He placed his back to the covered ladder.

  Katherine took her time. She was hesitant to surrender her footing; once she did, she descended rapidly.

  Her feet hit his shoulders solidly and hard. She wasn’t heavy, but the momentum hurt.

  He grabbed her ankles and guided her one leg at a time to place her knees on his shoulders. Her arms were stretched to the limit, and despite the pain in her fingers she refused to let go.
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  “I’ve got you. Let go.”

  She trusted him and took a breath. She closed her eyes and released her grip. Steve lowered her gently to the ground.

  She opened her eyes to find herself in his arms. This time she kissed him.

  “Thank you.”

  A steel door flew open fifty yards down the back of the building. The crash of the door broke the moment.

  Paul shouted from above, “Steve! Run!”

  Steve looked up to gauge his friend’s progress. Paul wasn’t on the ladder. He had leapt to a hotel room balcony, and was helping Brittany onto the landing.

  Steve drew his gun and looked back to his friend. There was nothing he could do. To stand out in the open was suicide.

  Paul kicked in the glass of the French doors to the hotel room and directed Brittany inside. He drew the USP he had taken from Savage and fired down on the emerging guards.

  This gave Steve a single moment to run. He wanted desperately to stay. Safety in numbers aside, he didn’t want to leave his friend. But, there was no choice.

  “Steve!” Katherine ran and he followed closely behind her. The gunfire stopped and Steve risked a glance back to the balcony. Paul was gone; the guards were coming.

  # # #

  Paul made his way across the room, cracked the door open, and peered into the hallway. It was empty. They slipped out of the room, and followed the hallway to the elevator. There had been no eruption of gunfire from below, and the thought that his friend might have been captured tore Paul up.

  “Come on,” he said.

  Brittany was right on his heels. He had to find a way to get back to Steve.

  Steve didn’t know it and Paul didn’t show it, but the childhood friend hadn’t been joking when he volunteered to be his head of security.

  Steve had laughed and agreed. They had spent the rest of the evening drinking and discussing other nonsensical titles to justify Paul’s outrageous salary.

  Paul had hit the internet the next morning. He’d found a personal protection training academy in town, and while Steve dealt with the volumes of paperwork, Paul learned all he could about private security. He had gotten certified for his Texas concealed carry license. He learned how to shoot and how to recognize a threat.

  His actions on the security boat were borne of his training. Other possibilities had not entered his mind. The tackle had been reflexive.

  He had stayed with his bodyguard classes and had added martial arts to his schedule. He wasn’t good at it, but he was improving. He always told Steve that he was out at the bars, and made sure to smell like whiskey when he met Steve after his classes. That part was easy.

  He even convinced Steve that it would be fun to take an evasive driving course out in some desert. Paul paid close attention. This was serious even if it was fun driving a car 30 mph in reverse.

  Steve was convinced that he didn’t need security. He had always been too trusting. Paul had vowed to see to it that no one took advantage of his friend, and that no one would hurt him.

  He had purchased the gun for muggers, would-be kidnappers, and those guys that drive the black van and grab rich folks off the street. He had seen the story on 60 Minutes. Sure it focused on South America but there were plenty of black vans in America, too. He had seen them.

  Now here he was in over his head; and on top of that, he was separated from his charge and best friend.

  He mashed the call button for the elevator. He had to get back to Steve.

  “What about the rainbow?”

  Paul shook his head as if he had been hit and looked at the beautiful woman standing beside him.

  “Vinnie said, ‘get to the rainbow’ just before he died.”

  “Who the hell is Vinnie?”

  “The hostage who had the gun.”

  “So who was he to talk about rainbows.”

  “I don’t know. Katherine said we couldn’t trust him.”

  “Why?”

  “She mentioned it after he told us that he worked for someone named Bennett.”

  “I work for someone named Bennett.” He gestured wildly back towards the room with the gun. “That was Steve Bennett.”

  “So you know him?”

  “The only person that works for Steve Bennett on this island is me. And what the hell is a rainbow?”

  Brittany shrugged. “That’s what he said. He shot those kidnappers. I think he was trying to help us.”

  “The only thing I know about him for certain is that he is a liar. And I’m not searching for any rainbows. I have to get back to my friend and get us all off of this island.”

  The elevator arrived. Paul held the gun on the doors as they opened; the car was empty. They stepped inside and Paul hit the lobby/casino button.

  Paul was even angrier now – an imposter, tree huggers with guns, crooked security, a whole new country. He screamed in frustration.

  Brittany was silent for a few moments while the doors slid shut. Finally she spoke. “Paul?”

  “Yes.” He realized he was taking out his frustration on her, and she didn’t deserve that, because she was hot.

  “I do like limericks.”

  He turned and smiled at her. “I know a great one.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  Savage had kicked open the rear door and had been the target of Paul’s first shot. Pain ripped through his body when he threw himself out of harm’s way and landed on his wounded arm.

  He’d been shot before. He’d been shot more than once. He had been shot by professionals – soldiers, bodyguards, law enforcement; but never by a pretender like Paul Nelson. His chest ached from taking the deer slug in the vest, but his arm screamed in shame.

  The firing had stopped and he kicked the door open again. The balcony was empty. Bennett and the girl were disappearing behind the corner of the hotel.

  Savage sent four men after Nelson. Through gritted teeth, he reminded them that he must be taken alive. This is why he chose to pursue Bennett himself – if he caught Paul it would be all but impossible not to shoot him.

  Two guards joined him as he set out after the overnight billionaire. He radioed the rest of the patrol. With the charade over and the L.S.A. partners enjoying their party, his men were now free to patrol Master Key. They were no longer a simple security force. They were a nation’s military branch.

  And, once Bennett was back under control, he would finally be able to deal with the ship of fools that had caused him so much grief for so long.

  A squad was already heading to the armory. He glanced at his watch. They should be arriving about the same time as the dredge. That should make things more efficient.

  He signaled his men and they followed Bennett and the girl.

  # # #

  Steve panted. He was certain now that he had never been so tired. His legs ached and he wondered how they still responded. He was slowing Katherine down and he could see it.

  She was fit, thin, and had only been chased and shot at half as much as he had that day. She kept pace with him as she led the flight.

  He recognized the path; she was taking them back to the boats. There was no other choice and he cursed the islands again. Into the water, out of the water, into the water, over, under, around and through the water. He felt as if he were drowning from his lack of options.

  They reached the docks without encountering a patrol; Steve constantly looked over his shoulder. He blindly fired a round every time he caught a glimpse of their pursuers. It was often.

  Savage chased but did not fire. The group of security guards closed quickly. Savage yelled after him.

  “We just want to talk Steve.”

  They kept running. The docks were abandoned. The security boats were gone. Steve guessed that they were out dealing with the environmentalists.

  Katherine ran ahead of him. Steve dropped to one knee and leveled the gun at the path. As soon as Savage stuck his head around the corner, Steve fired three quick shots.

  Katherine all but dove into one of the
jet-boats and fired the engine. She pulled alongside of Steve.

  Two more shots kept their heads down, and Steve somehow found it in his legs to leap from the dock into the boat.

  Katherine gunned the throttle and cut the wheel. She had no idea where to point the boat except away. The coast was too far. Even Fort Jefferson at Garden Key in the Dry Tortugas National Park could prove difficult to reach in the little jet-boat.

  Their only chance was to get lost in the islands again. There were over four hundred. Surely they could find a safe place to hold up and think of a plan.

  Steve landed hard on his feet and almost continued over the side. He dropped to his knees and stopped himself with his chest against the gunwale.

  “Go,” he wheezed trying to get air back in his lungs.

  The bow of the boat planed out of the water, and pointed to safety. Steve peered over the stern to see Savage and his men sitting on the dock of the bay.

  The crimson scar had finally faded and Steve thought he saw the man smile; it was a crooked grin that caught the moonlight and reflected a horrifying light.

  The impact was sudden and, once again, Steve found himself in the water.

  # # #

  The hotel elevator reached ground level, and the doors opened. Green Day’s Welcome to Paradise invaded the quiet casino. Paul peered around the door into the casino. It was impossible to see past a row of slot machines. Though the casino was void of gamblers or staff, the lights of the machines made it hard to detect any movement.

  With a deep breath he stepped into the elevator lobby and waved for Brittany to follow.

  “Where’s the front door?”

  She pointed and they began to run.

  Shouts soon followed. Four guards had burst from the stairwell door. Paul fired three shots and hit a slot machine, a roulette wheel and the floor in front of him.

  A burst of machine gun fire ripped back across the empty casino. Chips and cards flew into the air. The last few rounds chipped away at the ornate ceiling as the sergeant knocked the barrel into the air.