Duty Bound (1995)

by Leonard B Scott

  Tomorrow evening our boy is going to be enjoying the company of a couple of ladies on that yacht, and that's when we're going to take him out."

  Ted motioned to the table where he had placed the sketch.

  "Bonita gave us all the info, and here's what we're up against. Mendez keeps himself protected at all times. He has a covered walkway from the back entrance of his estate all the way down to his private docks. He'll take the walkway and board a small cruiser with his bodyguards and ten security guards, then be escorted to the yacht by four cigarettes, speedboats, that each have four men, all carrying automatic weapons. Once he and his guards board his yacht, the four cigarettes take up position in a box formation around the yacht. Nobody is allowed within two hundred yards; the perimeter boats make sure of it. If a boat heads in the direction of the yacht, the closest cigarette immediately responds and warns the skipper to change course--you don't argue with guys holding Macs. The perimeter boats are the first line of defense. The second line is the ten security guards who stay on the yacht when Mendez is there. Two are positioned on the lower aft deck, two on the lower forward deck, and two constant rovers. Two spotters are on the bridge and there are two that monitor radios in the communications room located on the bridge. The guards are rotated every eight hours by a new crew that comes out from the estate.

  The third and final line of defense is Mendez's bodyguards.

  Four of them always stay close to him. Each carries two automatic pistols. Like the security guards, they're rotated every eight hours while he's on the yacht. All tol', we're talking about thirty armed men whose job it is to protect their boss. And they have help. The permanent yacht staff is made up of fourteen people. It includes the skipper and his crew of eight, a chef, his assistants, dishwasher, stewards, maids, and even a gardener--Mendez likes plants; he's got a slew of them on board. The point is, all of these people have eyes and ears and are a passive security measure to reckon with. That's the bad news. The good news is the staff lives below decks. Also, most of the security guards are stationed on the second deck. Mendez's quarters and entertainment area are on the first. That means once Glenn and I get to the first deck, we only have to deal with four bodyguards to get to Mendez."

  Ramon shook his head. "Yeah, but you gotta get to that deck first, man. You and Glenn ain't invisible."

  "We will be," Ted said with a small smile.

  "Hold it, back it up," Virgil said, leaning forward in his chair. "Let's go back to those cigarette boats that form the perimeter. You told me and Ray this afternoon we were goin' to be responsible for taking them out. . . . How we goin' to do that if there are four boats all spread out and only two of us? Especially since ya said they all gotta be taken out at the same time."

  "Piece of cake," Ted said. "We've got digital timed-fuse igniters. Once the charges are in place all you have to do is push the right button at the right time."

  "That's a piece a' cake?" Virgil responded. "Sure, I went underwater with you today, Ted. I kinda liked it even, but shit, man, we're talkin' about me and Ray scuba-dubin' on our own, at night when it's black as a witch's tit. You said we gotta stay under and don't surface through the whole thing--how the hell we gonna find them boats when we're underwater? And even if we do find 'em, how we gonna see where to put the charges and how we gonna know what damn button to push when it's darker than two feet up a bull's ass? Piece a' cake? You smokin' dope sayin' it's a piece of cake."

  Ted smiled again as he pointed above him. "In a couple of hours there's going to be a full moon up there. And when it does get up there, we're all going in for a dive just to prove to you it's not as dark as you think underwater. And tomorrow mornin' startin' at oh dark thirty we're going to rehearse this op a dozen times. You'll be able to do it blindfolded. And if it clouds up tomorrow night for the op, it's not a problem. The NVGs we got are made for underwater use. You'll be able to pick up a dime off the bottom at midnight if you want to. Relax. I know what I'm doin', and you're goin' to do fine."

  His face grim, Ramon pushed back in his chair. "Why we doin' all this high-speed plannin'? When Mendez gets on board, why not just blow the fuckin' yacht out of the water and be done with it?"

  "We're not like them," Ted snapped. "The permanent staff aren't dirty--we're not killin' innocent people."

  "You tellin' me they don't know the guy is dirty? Give me a break, man. You sittin' there sayin' there's thirty badasses with automatics protectin' him. Look around you, man. I count four of us. Thirty against four--let's see, my math ain't so good but it don't take that many brain cells to figure out what our chances are with them odds. Fuck the crew and the maids and his whores, man. None of them people on that boat are turnin' down his paycheck. Blow the fuckin' thing out of the water and let the fish eat 'em."

  Angry, Ted stood. "You should have joined Mendez; he doesn't mind killing innocent people, either."

  Ramon lowered his head, looking at his hands before his eyes rose to Ted. "I got a little carried away, maybe--I don't wanna kill no innocent people. I just don't like the odds, Ted. Thirty fuckin' people is just too damn many. It takes just one to get lucky and it's over for all of us."

  "You haven't heard the whole plan yet, Ramon," Ted said as he retook his seat. "I'm not a glory-seekin' officer or dumbass planner with no experience. I've trained for these kinds of ops for years; so have you. You know what we've got in gear and weapons, and you know each of us. We're all pros here. Listen to the rest of the plan and wait till you make a couple rehearsals tomorrow. Then, tell me if you think the odds are still too high."

  Ramon dipped his chin. "Fair enough . . . but after all that if I still think it's fucked up, I'm tellin' you, man. I told you the first day I met you, I don't do fucked-up missions."

  "Fair enough. Once we've had supper and done our practice dive this evening, we're pulling anchor and moving into a position about a half mile from the yacht. Glenn and I are going under to make a recon to confirm the depth, take a look at the yacht's hull, and make sure there'll be no surprises for us. But right now let's get back to the plan and some specifics. Tomorrow night we'll all be carryin'. ."

  Ted pushed his empty plate back and glanced at Bonita, who was taking the leftovers into the cabin. He leaned over to Glenn. "What's with her? She hasn't hardly said a word to me all evenin'."

  Glenn raised an eyebrow. "You should have said something to her about her hair."

  "What ya want me to say? 'Bo, you look like that witch on The Munsters'? That black hair looks like shit on her and you know it. And ya see what she did to the poor hunter?

  Poor guy looks like a damn tiger the way she streaked him up with that dye."

  Overhearing the conversation, Virgil leaned closer to Ted.

  "Teddy, you'd best talk to her and be nice. When this op is over you don't be needin' to go back to Atlanta to check out the Little League and soccer fields for classy mommies--

  Bonita got 'em all beat."

  "Christ'a'mighty, Virg, I'm tryin' to run an op here. Being a sophisticated guy makes you know all about women now?"

  "Just tryin' to help you, Ted. You gotta talk to her and make her feel better about her hair, man."

  Glenn nodded in agreement. "She did it for us, Ted .. . thought a disguise would lessen the chances of being spotted. It was me who screwed up. She told me to get some hair dye for her and for Baby. I got cheap stuff and the wrong color. Talk to her and tell her she looks good."

  Ted leaned back, eyeing Glenn. "Wait a minute. You, of all people, are worried about her feelings? You don't trust her, remember?"

  "She's good people, Ted. Like I told ya this morning, I was wrong about her--she's trying real hard and been good to all of us. We're a team, Ted, and she's a part of it. Talk to her."

  Ramon stood, walked around the table, and patted Ted's shoulder. "The guys are right, man. You gotta be nice to Bonita--she's been nice to us. Dinner was good, man, and she's workin' hard for us."

  "Christ'a'mighty, you too?" Ted shook his head
in disbelief. "You guys worry about the op and let me worry about Bonita. But I will talk to her--I'll lie about her hair and won't say nothin' about her screwin' up the poor ol' hunter."

  Ted pushed back his chair and took a deep breath. He stood, exhaled, rolled back his shoulders, and walked toward the cabin.

  "Remember, be nice," Virgil whispered.

  Bonita was washing dishes in the small sink when Ted stepped up behind her. "Supper was good, Bo. You didn't need to go to all that trouble, you know."

  Bonita kept her back turned to him and continued to rinse off the plates. "I wanted to do something helpful."

  "Uh . . . I couldn't help but notice you colored your hair.

  It--it--"

  "I know it looks terrible--you don't have to lie to me, Teddy. And I'm sorry about Baby . . . I'll try and fix him tomorrow."

  Ted put his hand on her shoulder. "Bo, I don't care about your hair--you could be bald and you'd still look like a million dollars in my book."

  Bonita set down the plate and covered his hand with hers.

  "Promise me you'll come back to me, Ted. Promise me."

  "I promise, Bo. And I promise somethin' else, too. One day you and me are gonna be on a balcony watchin' the canoes and fireworks at Disney World. I still wanna see Sleeping Beauty's castle up close."

  Bonita faced him and rested her head on his chest. "It's Cinderella's castle, Teddy."

  Peeping through the doorway, Glenn smiled, turned, and raised his thumb to Virgil and Ramon. Both men raised their hands and slapped them together in a high five.

  The young man in black held a Sig 210 nine-millimeter pistol to Eli's head as he unlocked the bike chain. "Keep your arms spread and head on the floor, Agent Tanner. It's time for you and Miss Starr to make a trip."

  "Where to this time?" Eli asked.

  "I don't know, Agent Tanner. We are giving you and Miss Starr to others."

  "Look, before we go, would you let Miss Starr and me please use the latrine? We've been here a long time. I'm about ready to bust."

  "You may sit up now, Agent Tanner. Good. Yes, you may visit the facilities, as may Miss Starr, but neither of you will have privacy."

  Eli felt the thin chain around his wrists and could see the chain around his ankles. He knew escape was impossible but managed a nod. "Thanks for your consideration."

  Abruptly, he was lifted to his feet and the piece of sheet that had been covering him fell to the floor. The big man leaned over and spoke into his ear. "I take good care of you, ass-hole."

  Eli glanced at Stacy as she was lifted to her feet and her sheet also fell to the floor. The young man picked it up and wrapped it around her shoulders again. "Please walk slowly; the chain around your wrists is also tied to your ankles. It will be difficult, but if you walk slowly, the chain will not rub your skin raw. That's it; walk slowly."

  "Please don't do this--just leave us here and go," Stacy said, sobbing.

  "Come now, Miss Starr, my associates and I were paid to do a job. We take pride in our work."

  Ten minutes later Eli sat beside Stacy on a cushioned seat below the deck of a sleek cigarette boat. They were chained to each other and to the bulkhead. The big man was seated across from them, wearing a Walkman; he was rocking his shoulders back and forth to a beat only he could hear.

  Eli whispered, "You okay?"

  "Na . . . no, I'm not okay. I'm scared to death. Aren't you?"

  "Not yet--giving us to someone means more time for us.

  You're doin' real good, Stacy. Just keep it up. Our people will find us--I know it."

  "Oh God, we're moving. Ohh . . . why do they have to go so fast?" Stacy asked in a whimper.

  Eli winced and closed his eyes tightly. "I hate boats . . . my stomach is already doing somersaults. Why did it have to be in a damn speedboat?"

  Stacy glanced at him. "You're pale . . . you're serious, aren't you?"

  "I almost drowned once . . . yeah, I'm serious. I . . . I really hate this."

  "Eli, we're nude, abducted by armed men, going God knows where, and they're probably going to kill us--and your stomach is upset because we're in this boat?"

  "I hate being on water . . . I just told you I almost drowned once."

  "I think we have more to worry about than being on this boat. What are we going to do once we get to where we're going?"

  "I . . . I think I'm going to be sick."

  "Are we really going to get out of this?"

  "Our people will find . . . 000h . . ."

  The big man wrinkled his nose as Eli lurched forward and vomited on the floor between them.

  FBI field office, Miami.

  Ashley turned from the window. "It's getting dark, Ed; we're running out of time."

  Faraday motioned to the papers spread out on the table.

  "We've been over everything twice . . . I don't know what else to do. I just know sittin' here isn't helping Tanner any."

  The office door opened and Agent Parker stormed in.

  "We've got a break! A DEA snitch came through. He says he saw two dark vans drive into Terres's boatyard about four-thirty this afternoon."

  "I thought the DEA had surveillance on those yards,"

  Ashley said.

  "They didn't get into position until five. The DEA is staging their Tac Team close to the yard and sending up a chopper to see if they can spot the vans with night-vision scopes. I'm going to the yard--you two coming?"

  Ashley exchanged looks with Faraday before shaking her head. "No, we'll monitor the radios in the ops room to keep up with events. We're working on a few things on our own."

  "You still think Mendez is the one, don't you?"

  "I think we've all been taken for a ride by Lopez, so yes, I still think he's behind all this."

  "I'll be at the yard if you change your mind." Parker turned and walked out.

  Faraday started collecting the papers. "We can go over this stuff a third time in the ops center. What time is it now?"

  Ashley glanced at her watch, then turned and looked out the window into the darkness. "It's almost nine."

  His chin caked with dried vomit, Eli felt too weak to move when a uniformed man in khaki took hold of his arm and said, "Stand up."

  Stacy took hold of Eli's arm and pulled him to his feet as she stood. "You've got to do something," she whispered.

  Standing in his bare feet in his own vomit, he felt the rocking motion of the boat. Another wave of nausea surged through him. He began to fall backward but was grabbed by the guard and pushed toward the open hatchway. Eli wondered if they were going to be transferred to yet another boat. They had been transferred to a second cigarette thirty minutes before, and new people were guarding them. He hoped this would be another transfer, which would mean spending more time away from their final destination. But his stomach hoped they were finally at the last stop.

  Once on the deck, Eli took in deep breaths of the fresh night air as he looked up at a huge white hull. There was a whirring sound, and a stairway with an overhead canvas cover was lowered into view. Stacy brushed her shoulder against his. "It's a yacht, Eli. They've brought us to a yacht."

  Too sick to speak, Eli thought, 1 don't care as long as it doesn't rock.

  A uniformed guard took hold of Eli's chain and led the couple toward the stairway. At the yacht's polished wood deck, the couple was met by five men. The one in the middle was thin, middle-aged, and wore a white linen suit.

  He ignored Eli, nodding toward Stacy instead. "Good evening, Miss Starr. Welcome to the Princess. I am Raul, your temporary host." Raul shifted his gaze to the guard. "Unchain her."

  Once she was free of the chains, Raul handed Stacy a robe. "I apologize for the embarrassment and discomfort we have caused you, Miss Starr. We shall do our best to make amends. These two gentlemen will escort you to your stateroom, where you can shower and freshen yourself. You'll find everything you need. A dinner gown has already been laid out for you, and should you need anything else, don't hesitate to let
these gentlemen know. They will be outside your door."

  Stacy quickly put on her robe. "You said you were my `temporary' host?"

  "You'll have the honor of dining with Colonel Mendez tonight, Miss Starr. He is very much looking forward to meeting you. Please, gentlemen, be so kind as to escort Miss Stan to her accommodations."

  Stacy held her ground as two of the khaki-clad men stepped forward. "Will Agent Tanner be dining with us?"

  Raul wrinkled his brow as if apologetic. "Miss Starr, the agent will be dining alone this evening. Please don't be concerned for his welfare. He will not be harmed in any way.

  Like you, he is a guest. Now please, you must not delay any longer. You are expected for dinner at ten."