The Bermuda Connection (A Nick Randall Novel Book 2)

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The Bermuda Connection (A Nick Randall Novel Book 2) Page 12

by Robert Rapoza


  Michael walked into the office, and closed the door behind him. Seivers sat behind her desk, her back to the door, reading from a file she held in her lap. She sat motionless, focused on the document in hand.

  “How are things, Boss?” he asked, taking a seat opposite her desk.

  “I hear you’ve been busy,” Seivers said, turning to face him.

  “Just doing what you pay me for.”

  Seivers looked up at Michael, studying him from behind a pair of black-rimmed metal glasses. She cocked her head to one side as if looking at him from a different angle might reveal something new.

  “I read your last update and I’m pleased that Randall and his son are safe.”

  “Thank you. We’re continuing to track them, but Dumond hasn’t made this easy.”

  “If it were easy, you wouldn’t be paid so handsomely,” Seivers said, now looking over her glasses, pushing them to the end of her slender nose.

  “What would you like me to do next?”

  “Monitor them. They’re our best chance of obtaining the compound we need to advance our plans.”

  “And what exactly are your plans?”

  Margaret sat back in her chair. A momentary frown appeared on her lips, quickly returning to a neutral expression. Her brown eyes narrowed as she locked onto Thompson’s face.

  “Mr. Thompson, I hired you for a very specific job, which you have completed to my satisfaction. I provide you with precisely the information you require to complete the tasks assigned to you. If, in the future, the work requested of you requires additional information, I assure you, pertinent details will be provided. Until that time, however, I suggest you focus on the task at hand.”

  Michael nodded, turning to look out the window. While her outward appearance was that of a well-groomed business executive, he knew that beneath the veneer Margaret Seivers was a dangerous woman whose influence stretched well beyond the confines of a multinational company.

  “Do I make myself clear, Mr. Thompson?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Michael said, turning back to face her. He forced a smile, knowing that it fooled no one.

  “Very good. I have to return a call to Mr. Dumond now. Please keep me updated on the situation.”

  The mention of Dumond’s name sparked Michael’s attention. “Is there anything I should know?”

  “Not at this time. He was simply informing me about his failed attempt on Randall’s life. But I believe you already knew about that.”

  Michael smiled. “Like I said, Ms. Seivers, just doing what you pay me for.” He stood and exited the office. Despite her stern manner, there was one thing he appreciated about his employer: she made her wishes clear. And Michael had no intention of disappointing her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The setting sun cast a long reflection across the glittering surface of Castle Harbor as a breeze wisped through the trees surrounding Rob’s home on Nonsuch Island. Randall, Gabby, and Charlie had landed their boat on a small stretch of sandy beach on the southern side of the island and made their way through the dense foliage until they reached a clearing that opened to reveal Rob’s home. Having spoken with him earlier, the three now joined Rob, Sam and Jamie. They sat in the study, which offered a view across the water and directly into the Cooper Island Nature Reserve. The scenery was beautiful, but the mood inside the home was anything but peaceful.

  Wanting to be a good host, Rob fetched his guests several cold bottles of Barritt's Ginger Beer. He also brought out a bottle of dark rum to mix a “Dark and Stormy” for anyone in need of something stronger. A preferred drink of true Bermudians, the “Dark and Stormy” had seemed like a good choice, and Rob had decided the moment they arrived that he would be having several. The group sat in a circle watching Gabby as she absorbed all of the information they had shared. Randall, no longer considered a suspect, sat by Sam, staring out the window as she conversed with the agent.

  “So you and your father faced Dumond in Peru and narrowly escaped, aided and abetted by a local tribe?”

  “As crazy as it sounds, yes, Agent Gutierrez,” Sam answered.

  “Call me Gabby.”

  “Okay, Gabby, yes, my dad and I fought Dumond and his men in an underground city in Peru and barely escaped with our lives. Dumond escaped, and I can’t say I’m surprised that he’s back. Apparently we threw a serious wrench into his plans to create a super weapon and cost him a lot of money in the process. To put it simply, he was pretty angry with us and I’m sure he would like to finish the job he started.”

  “And now you think Dumond wants Jamie because he was abducted by the same creatures that have been abducting her and he wants revenge on them. You also think he has captured your brother John.”

  “Exactly,” Sam said, nodding.

  “Rob, I’ll have one of those drinks,” Gabby said, rubbing her eyes.

  “I know this sounds crazy Gabby, but it’s all true,” Randall said.

  “I want to believe you, but it all sounds so far-fetched,” Gabby replied.

  “Even if you don’t believe we’re telling you the truth, we all want the same thing. To catch Shaw and stop Dumond,” Randall said.

  Gabby shook her head.

  “So what do we do now?” Rob asked, mixing Gabby’s drink and raising an eyebrow in anticipation of the answer.

  A hushed silence fell over the group. Rob glanced at his old friend who looked at the ground, clearly feeling defeated. He handed off the cocktail to Gabby, who nodded in appreciation and took a long pull from the glass. Rob sat down at his desk, folded his hands across his lap and waited.

  Just as he did, Charlie walked into the room, sliding his phone into his jacket pocket.

  “Any news, Charlie?” Gabby asked.

  “News?”

  “The phone records from Jamie’s file. You were calling the sub-office to trace the call Shaw made to Jamie, remember?” Gabby said, grinning at her partner of five years.

  “Sorry, no news yet, but hopefully we’ll hear something soon,” Charlie said, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice. He slid his lanky frame into an empty chair near his partner.

  Almost as if on cue, Gabby’s phone rang, the noise startling everyone back to a sense of reality.

  “Gutierrez,” Gabby said into the phone. Everyone’s eyes fixated on her as they listened to one side of the conversation.

  “Are you sure about that? Okay, thanks.” Gabby ended her call and took another long sip from her drink.

  “Well?” Randall asked.

  “Shaw’s call to Jamie came from a burner phone, a pre-paid phone that is untraceable,” Gabby said, watching Randall sink deeper into his seat.

  “But they were able to pull records from local cell towers to see if we had a hit on the number, which we did. It appears that the call originated from nearby. Our techs were able to triangulate the location to Coopers Island.”

  “Coopers Island? The only thing over there is the NASA tracking station,” Rob said.

  “That’s correct. Jamie, have you had any contact with anyone from NASA?” Gabby asked.

  “No,” Jamie responded, unable to hide the surprise in her voice.

  “That’s what I thought. I think we’ve found Shaw.”

  “Great, what do we do next?” Randall asked.

  “Nick, do you play poker?” Gabby asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “How good are you at bluffing?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The morning sun slowly crawled into the eastern sky over Cooper Island, revealing a nearly cloudless stretch of light blue as far as the eye could see. The green trees stood in sharp contrast to the sky and the air felt crisp and cool. The NASA facility was comprised of three semi-truck trailers, arranged in a U-shaped formation, with the fourth side of the square enclosed by a small building. Another small structure in the center of the square completed the complex. A large satellite dish rested on the west end of the formation near the building, and further beyond the satellite dis
h, the land fell away to Castle Harbor in the direction of Nonsuch Island.

  Randall shifted restlessly, waiting for them to put their plan into action. He had barely slept, worrying if John was all right and if they would find him. He could only hope that Gabby’s plan would work and that they could get information from Shaw to help them locate John.

  “Are you ready to go?” Gabby asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Randall replied.

  The plan was simple. Charlie had an agent friend place a call to the Cooper Island facility, asking about the whereabouts of a man named Shaw. Gabby and Randall would then show up at the facility, confront Shaw, and tell him they had indisputable proof that he was behind the break-in at the FBI sub-station and murder of Agent Hernandez. Gabby would then threaten him with a non-existent task force of FBI agents waiting to storm the facility if he failed to cooperate with the investigation. They had to hope that would be enough to make Shaw crack and that he wouldn’t call their bluff.

  Randall and Gabby walked down the gravel path toward the lead trailer and immediately spotted surveillance cameras. As they drew within ten yards of the trailer, its door opened and a single uniformed man stepped out and walked down the steps to greet them. He appeared to be unarmed.

  “This is a United States government installation and you’re trespassing. Turn around now or you’ll be taken into custody.”

  “I’m a Federal Agent,” Gabby said, removing her badge from her pocket, “and I’m here to investigate the murder of a fellow agent at the Sub-Office at the U.S. Embassy in Nassau. Interfering with this investigation is a federal offense, punishable by a long prison term in a federal correctional facility. Unless you’d like to trade this beachside Shangri-La for a four-by-six concrete room with bars, I suggest you take us to your boss.”

  The soldier held his hand up to an inconspicuous listening device in his ear and, after a moment, spoke.

  “This way, Agent Gutierrez.”

  Gabby and Randall exchanged glances before walking up the metal steps and into the trailer. The solider held the door open as they walked into the trailer.

  “This way,” the soldier said, leading them down the narrow hallway. They stopped at another door that led into the courtyard and the soldier once again held the door open so they could walk down the steps, toward the small building in the middle. The soldier removed a small, plastic ID card from his front shirt pocket and waved it in front of a rectangular black card reader. The door slid open.

  Randall and Gabby followed him to a small windowless door, which he opened in the same manner as before. He motioned for them to go in.

  “Where’s your boss?” Gabby said, standing in the doorway.

  “I’m right here,” Shaw replied from inside, sitting by a desk with a cup of coffee and several files in front of him.

  Gabby and Randall walked into the room and stood on the opposite side of his desk while Shaw remained seated. The room was completely windowless and painted drab gray. There were no pictures on the walls. In fact, there were no personal effects anywhere in Shaw’s office. Just somber empty walls and a single desk with a computer and an ash tray on top. The ash tray was overflowing with discarded cigarette butts. A single lit cigarette burned almost to a nub sat on the edge of the ash tray with small wisps of blue smoke trailing into the air.

  “Sergeant, has Captain Fredericks reported for duty?” Shaw asked.

  “Negative, sir. We’ve tried calling him twice but his line goes straight to voicemail.”

  “Keep me posted,” Shaw said, making no attempt to hide his displeasure. He looked up at Randall. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Shaw asked.

  “Drop the act, Shaw,” Gabby said. “I want answers about John Randall’s disappearance and why you’re after Jamie Edmunds. I know that you’re the one who orchestrated the break-in at the Sub-Station. You’re complicit in the murder of a federal agent.”

  “I see, and I’m sure that you have a warrant?”

  Gabby leaned onto the desk, her face a foot from Shaw’s. “I could get one if you like.”

  “Really, and what would be the charges?”

  “How about attempted murder and the kidnapping of John Randall and Jacob Taylor, for starters? I’m sure we could toss in conspiracy for your role in the murder of Agent Hernandez as well.”

  “Sounds serious. Of course if you had wanted to charge me with those crimes, you wouldn’t be here warning me, would you? So what is it you want, Agent Gutierrez?”

  “I want to know what you’re up to. I want to know why you want Jamie Edmunds and John Randall, and what you plan to do with them. There’s clearly something larger happening here, otherwise the DOD wouldn’t be involved in breaking into an FBI sub-office and trying to kidnap government researchers. I want a signed confession from you, and I can offer you immunity from prosecution if you’re willing to turn over the people who ordered the break-in and are responsible for the murder of Agent Hernandez.”

  An evil grin crept onto Shaw’s face as he sat listening to Gabby. He took a heavy draw from his cigarette, then crushed it into his ash tray. He blew out the smoke and locked eyes with Gabby. “Now let me tell you something. You don’t have proof of anything and you have no idea how in-over-your-head you are. If you really think I’m going to roll over for some punk agent coming into my facility making empty threats, then you really are naïve.”

  “I’m warning you, I have a task force ready to tear this place apart if you don’t comply.”

  “Call them.”

  Gabby pulled the radio from her pocket.

  “Charlie, come in, this is Gabby, get ready to send in the team.”

  There was only silence as Shaw’s grin grew wider.

  “Charlie, are you there?”

  After another moment of silence, Shaw opened his desk drawer and removed his own hand held radio. “Send them in.”

  The door to his office swung open, and to Randall and Gabby’s horror Jamie, Sam, and Rob walked in with their hands held behind their heads. Bringing up the trail was Charlie, who had a gun trained on them.

  “Charlie, what the hell are you doing?” Gabby asked.

  “Sorry, Gabby, the DOD pays better,” Charlie said. “What do you want me to do with them, Colonel?”

  “Lock them up with the other one.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The small group walked down the hall toward the holding cell with a soldier in front, Charlie in the back, and the rest as prisoners in the middle. Gabby walked slowly to be sure she was within earshot of Charlie.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this, Charlie. You’re a goddamned traitor!” Gabby seethed.

  “It’s not what you think, Gabby, there’s more going on here than you realize. This situation is a lot bigger than the field office and what we do there on a daily basis,” Charlie replied.

  “Is that what you’ll tell Raffi’s family? Is that going to bring back those little girls’ dad? You can lie to yourself all you want, but don’t tell me this is about anything other than a bigger payday for yourself. Like you said, the DOD pays better. To think, I used to really care about you and think you were something special.”

  As they approached the door to the holding cell, the soldier in front held his ID up to the card reader and the door slipped open. While he ushered the others in, Charlie grabbed Gabby’s arm and pulled her aside.

  “This is much bigger than anything you can imagine. Most folks are kept in the dark about what’s really happening in the country—in the world for that matter. There are things kept from the public eye that would tear society apart. You have to trust me on that. I never wanted anything to happen to you and I’ll make sure that you and your friends are safe, but for now, you need to do what you’re told.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what I need to do,” Gabby said, pulling her hands back from Charlie’s grip. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re a dead man, Charlie. As a matter of fact, the Charlie Wate
rs I knew never even existed.” Gabby stomped into the holding cell, staring daggers at Charlie. She could see in his eyes that her words had hurt him and she was genuinely happy that they had.

  “Hey guys, can’t say I’m glad to have company, but I’m happy to see you!” John said, jumping up from his chair and coming over to greet everyone.

  “Son! Thank God you’re okay!” Randall said, rushing over to John, throwing his arms around him, and squeezing with all of his might.

  “How did you get here?” Jamie said, hurrying to give John a hug as well. “Last time I saw you, Dumond and his men had trapped you at my building. How did you get away from them?”

  John told them about his ordeal at Dumond’s hands.

  “So who helped you get away?” Sam asked.

  “Some guy I’ve never met before. He used to work for Dumond and Ramsey, but he didn’t agree with what they were doing and found a way out. He works for someone pretty powerful, but wouldn’t tell me who.”

  “Well I’m just thankful that you’re alive,” Randall said, putting his hand on John’s shoulder.

  The feel-good moment was loudly interrupted by a thunderous sound followed by men screaming orders. Before another word was spoken, the holding cell’s door slid open.

  “We’re under attack, I’m under orders to…”

  Before the soldier could finish his sentence, he was engulfed by debris and flames as another explosion rocked the facility and reduced a section of the wall to rubble.

  “Run for the door, we need to get out of here!” Randall yelled.

  John led the way, followed by the others. As they exited the room, their eyes were blinded by sunlight streaming through a gaping hole in the exterior wall.

  “Get down!” a soldier screamed as a hail of gunfire poured through the hole. Everyone ducked for cover.

  “What’s happening?” Randall shouted.

  “Someone’s attacking us with RPGs and automatic weapons. They have us pinned down inside the facility,” the soldier replied.

 

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