Fallen Hunter (Jesse McDermitt Series)

by Wayne Stinnett

  Just as the last of the sun started to disappear, it happened. A small part of it seemed to separate from the main orb and lift up out of the water. Then the orb disappeared, the small separation flashed green and then it too disappeared, bringing a squeal from Tina. A few seconds later, we were enveloped in total darkness.

  Tina felt around and found my hand, squeezing it and said, “What happened? Why’d if get so dark?”

  Julie giggled and said, “That’s the surprise. There’s no twilight on the open ocean.”

  I turned on the low level, red, overhead lights, bathing us in a soft red glow. “Deuce, why don’t you take the first watch?” I said. “Julie can come up and relieve you in a couple of hours, then I’ll take the watch as we get near the Cuban coast. Right now, I want to take her to the foredeck and show her something.”

  “Sure,” said Deuce with a knowing smile.

  Tina and I left the bridge and climbed up to the wide side decks. “Watch your step,” I said. “Keep a hand on the handrails.” She made her way slowly forward in the near pitch darkness, with only the filtered red light from the bridge. Once we were clear of the salon bulkhead I said, “Take a couple of steps to your left, sit down on the deck and lean back against the forward bulkhead.”

  Once she was settled, I sat down beside her and she said, “What is it I’m supposed to see in this pitch darkness?”

  As she felt around for my hand, I waited a few seconds then heard her gasp and say, “Oh my.”

  Our eyes had become adjusted to the near darkness. At sea, it doesn’t get completely dark. The moon was just a sliver, following the sun far to the west. But the stars provided quite a bit of light. On the open ocean, you can see more stars in one small part of the sky than you can see all across the whole sky when on shore.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said. “I never imagined there were so many stars. Why has nobody ever shown me this before?”

  “Landlubbers never see it,” I said. “Even if you go far out in the desert, or high up in the mountains, you can’t see what you can out here on the blue. Right now we’re about halfway between Key West and Cuba, forty miles from any light source that would dilute the sky.”

  We sat there for about twenty minutes and I pointed out the few stars and constellations that I knew. “We’d better get some rest,” I said. “I’ll have the short watch from 2300 to midnight and during the insertion. You won’t need to take watch until we’re sure we got in and out undetected.”

  “Are you worried about going into Cuban waters tonight?” she asked.

  “Not really,” I said. “That part of Cuba is mostly just tiny fishing villages. Most don’t even have electricity. And most of the patrol boats don’t have enough fuel to even put out to sea.”

  We got up and made our way back to the cockpit then through the salon, where Tony and Art were snoring away. We went forward to the stateroom, took off our shoes and climbed into bed with our clothes on. That didn’t last long. We made love quietly, to the slow rocking of the boat. Finally we fell exhausted to sleep. But not before getting fully dressed again.

  A single light tap on the hatch awakened me. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was 2300. We should be skirting the coast of Cuba about twenty miles offshore about now, with a good thirty miles to go to the way point. I slipped on my Topsiders and opened the hatch. Deuce was just going out the salon hatch. I joined him on the bridge and checked our position on the GPS. We were almost exactly where I thought we’d be, but a little further from the coast. About thirty miles north of the long barrier reef, off Cayo de Buenavista, another fifty miles before we turn southeast into the bay.

  I looked at Deuce. He just shrugged and said, “I felt thirty miles would be less obvious, in case we’re being watched.” I noticed he had brought his satellite phone up with him. “Probably a good thing, too. I just talked to Chyrel. She’s picking up active radar from a mobile launch site near Santa Lucia, about fifty miles back. They just shut it down a few minutes ago. She checked the satellite using infrared and nothing’s coming out of the port.”

  “Smart thinking,” I said. “We still have plenty of time.”

  “I’m going to go down and uncrate the scooters and get their gear together,” he said. “I want them to get as much rest as they can.”

  “My tool chest is under the ladder to port, in the engine room,” I said. “There’s a cordless drill there, too. Battery’s on the charger on the opposite side of the generator.”

  He climbed down and disappeared through the engine room hatch. There were four tanks already set up for doubles on Tony and Art’s personal BC and regulator. That would be more than enough air for the scooter ride in and back out. All they’d have to do would be put on their wetsuits, slip into the rigs, put on their masks and fins and get in the water. Deuce would have both scooters waiting on the swim platform, lashed in place with a strap I’d already put there.

  Thirty minutes later, Deuce joined me again on the bridge. “Everything’s all set,” he said. He leaned over and checked the GPS. We were still fifteen miles from the turn, maybe another thirty minutes.

  “Let’s get everyone up,” I said. “While they’re gearing up, the girls can slice up some fruit up and let them get a bite to eat, before they get in the water.”

  Deuce nodded and I reached over and switched the stereo over to boat wide. I put a CD into the stereo and Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries began to fill the cabin and bridge with the powerful music.

  Deuce looked over at me and said, “A bit overly dramatic, maybe?”

  “No,” I said. “Not at all. Overly dramatic would be if I also sent it out over the UHF to those waiting and watching on the island. Like this.” Then I flipped another switch and did just that.

  Deuce laughed and said, “You are a piece of work.”

  Deuce climbed down and went into the salon to tell the girls what to do, as Tony and Art came out into the cockpit. They already had their wetsuits on. Tony looked up at me and tapped his watch. I shouted down, “Fifteen minutes to the turn, thirty minutes till feet wet.”

  He gave me a thumbs up and started going over his gear probably for the fourth time. Deuce came out with a long black case, opened it and helped the men check their weapons and communication equipment.

  A few minutes later, Julie and Tina came out with several bowls full of sliced fruit. Tina brought one up to the bridge, set it on the console in front of the second seat and then said, “I’ll take over, so you can get a bite to eat, too.”

  I slid over to the second seat and let her have the helm, while I ate the fruit. We were now five miles from the turn, so I hurried. Tina took the bowl when I was finished and went back down below. She gathered up the rest and disappeared into the salon as Julie came up to the bridge. She sat down on the bench seat and said, “How far?”

  “Coming up on the turn in about five minutes,” I said.

  Julie looked down at the three men checking and rechecking every piece of gear. “They’re good at what they do,” she said.

  “Maybe the best in the world,” I said.

  “I know Deuce wishes he was going, but I’m glad he’s not,” she said.

  “There will be times when he does, Julie,” I said. “You have to be ready for those times. It’s a tougher job you’ll have than his.”

  Tina came back up to the bridge and took the second seat. I switched off the stereo and switched the radio so it would broadcast both PA and UHF, picked up the mic and said, “Going dark.” Then I switched off the running lights, interior lights, gauge lights, even the overhead red lights. I switched the GPS to daytime mode, so the light would go off. Then I put on my Pulsar Edge night vision optics and switched it on. I looked over at Julie, then over at Tina. Both looked scared in a grainy green haze.

  Chyrel’s voice came over the speakers, “Roger Alpha Team, God speed.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said to Julie and Tina. “Your eyes will adjust in a minute.”

  I looked
down into the cockpit and saw that Deuce, Tony and Art had done the same. Deuce looked up and I gave him the OK sign, which he returned. Tony and Art were sitting on the port side of the bench seat with their gear strapped on, waiting.

  I checked the GPS and we were less than a tenth of a mile from the way point for the turn. I picked up the mic and said, “Hold on. Turning in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” Then I spun the wheel hard to port and pushed both throttles to the stops. The big boat responded instantly, turning sharply and leaping forward. Checking the GPS, I saw that in seconds we were going forty-six knots. The tail wind must have been stronger than I figured, then I remembered Williams saying he’d tweaked the injectors to get a couple more knots out of the engines. I glanced down as I straightened the wheel on a heading of 110 degrees and the GPS read forty-eight knots at 2400 rpm, wide open throttle.

  I picked up the mic and said, “Forty-eight knots, full stop in twenty minutes.”

  Chyrel had installed an encryption system on the UHF, so I wasn’t worried about anyone listening in. We rode on in silence. I occasionally looked down into the cockpit. Deuce had filled a rinse bucket and placed it on the deck between the two men. They were busy rinsing their masks and doing a last minute check of equipment by feel. The moon was long set, in the cockpit there was very little starlight and the two divers didn’t have night vision. They relied on years of experience and training, plus a fine Officer watching out for them.

  I kept my eyes on the sonar screen through the night vision goggles, glancing occasionally at the GPS. We were inside the bay, streaking toward shore, with thirty feet of water under us and ten miles away from the point. We were well inside Cuban territorial waters.

  I picked up the mic and said, “Eight minutes.”

  Time seemed to move slowly. It felt like forever before we reached the spot three miles from shore, where I needed to start slowing down. I pulled back slowly on the throttles. I didn’t want our stern wave to overtake us and swamp the cockpit, since Deuce already had the door open. Once we were off plane and idling, I reversed the port engine and brought it up to 1200 rpm, spinning the Revenge. Then I brought it back to forward idle for a second, checked the GPS and saw that we were at exactly the spot I wanted to be and headed away from shore at a reverse course of 290 degrees.

  I brought both engines to neutral, picked up the mic and said, “All stop, depth is twenty feet. Go!”

  Deuce already had the divers on their feet, had stepped out onto the dive platform and unstrapped the scooters. He shoved one into the water and slapped one of the divers on the shoulder as he stepped onto the platform. When he surfaced, Deuce said, “To your ten o’clock, three meters.” The diver struck out and grabbed the scooter in seconds, while Deuce shoved the second one in and slapped the second diver on the shoulder. When he surfaced Deuce said, “At your one o’clock, arm’s length.”

  The diver reached out, grabbed it and I heard Tony’s voice over the speaker, “Clear. Submerging.”

  As soon as Deuce stepped back up into the cockpit and closed the walk through, I jammed both throttles to the stops, knowing that Deuce would be expecting it. Seconds later we were up on plane and Deuce was climbing the ladder. Both men had full face masks with communications, but we’d agreed to keep talk to a minimum. Still Deuce reached for the mic and said, “Com check.”

  “Alpha Two,” came Tony’s voice.

  “Alpha Three,” said Art. “All systems good.”

  “Check in from shore,” Deuce said. “Be careful. Alpha One out.”

  I saw Deuce look at Julie and could tell she was still scared. He took her hand and said, “We’ll be safe in just a few minutes.” He looked at me and I gave him a thumbs up. “I’m going back down and fill the tanks from the bladders. We must be low on fuel.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “About a quarter tank.”

  Five minutes later, he was back on the bridge.

  We rode in silence. I kept an eye on the GPS and finally, twenty minutes later, I pulled back on the throttles to 1700 rpm and the big boat slowed to twenty-six knots. I turned to a heading of 225 degrees, straight for Cozumel and engaged the autopilot.

  I took off my night vision goggles, then reached up and turned on the low, red overhead lights, the running lights, the radar and the bright spot light. Checking the radar, I saw nothing in front of us. More importantly, I saw nothing behind us. “We’re clear,” I said into the mic.

  Deuce removed his night vision goggles as we heard Chyrel’s voice over the radio, “Good job, Alpha Team. I have twenty people in your living room breathing again.”

  I keyed the mic and said, “Tell Dave thanks. Forty-eight knots.”

  Williams’s voice came over the radio saying, “Give me three days and a few thousand and I can get that up to sixty.”

  “Might take you up on that,” I said. “Alpha One out.”

  Tina grabbed my hand and said, “That was scary. How did you ever do that for a living?”

  “What living,” Deuce and I said at the same time. That broke the tension and I added, “At least the money’s better now.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Deuce said. “I’m a lowly GS-11. You just made what it’ll take me two months to earn.”

  “Once this is over,” I said. “I might have something you can help me with to supplement that government income.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Remember that first night in Key West when I asked you about that French name?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But it wasn’t a name.”

  “Your dad was looking for the wreck of a Confederate blockade runner called the Lynx,” I said. “I think that’s what got him killed. He found it. Or at least part of it.”

  “You’re telling me…” he started to say.

  “Yeah,” I interrupted. “He found one of a dozen gold bars. Lester was diving with him, took advantage of the find and killed him. The GPS coordinates are still on his GPS, saved on the day he drowned. I found that the same time I found his doubloon.”

  “If it’s still there, how much do you think each bar would weigh?” he asked.

  “I did a little research,” I said. “Or actually Chyrel did it for me. It seems that on September 25th, 1864, the Lynx was sunk outside of Riviera Beach Inlet. A VIP passenger was aboard, a man by the name of Lieutenant Colonel Abner McCormick, of the Second Florida Cavalry. The Lynx came under fire from three Union vessels and sank. Colonel McCormick drowned, but the rest of the crew made it to shore. That’s all in the history books and is what Chyrel found out for me. What wasn’t known, except by McCormick himself, was that he was carrying twelve gold bars, each weighing ten pounds. Probably why he drowned and the others didn’t. It was supposed to be going to a Colonel Harrison, with the First Florida Battalion to fund the Confederate cause. At the time, it was worth $16 an ounce, or about $31,000 for the 120 pounds. At today’s rate, it would be worth $2.5 million.”

  “Wait,” he said. “How do you know, or how did my dad know, that the gold was on board?”

  “Colonel McCormick wrote to his wife and family before they sailed,” I said, “saying that he had a Frenchman aboard by the name of Douzaine Lingots Dior. Your dad found one of McCormick’s descendants, who had his great grandfather’s letters to his wife and the guy let him read them. Your dad spoke French and immediately figured out that it wasn’t a Frenchman, but twelve gold bars.”

  “And you know where they are?” Julie asked.

  “I know where Russ last dived,” I replied. “When I went through his things up in Fort Pierce, both of his metal detectors were missing, along with those pieces of treasure you had mentioned. When I found Lester, I also found his GPS and journal. It’s there. We just have to go find it.”

  “Who is this Lester?” Tina asked.

  Before I could say anything, Deuce said, “He was the man that killed my father.”

  “Julie, is Rusty’s salvage license still good?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “He
always keeps it current.”

  “We have the license,” I said. “And the manpower and location. Once this is done, I think a few of us should go treasure hunting.”

  “I’m in,” Deuce said. Julie smiled and he added, “But I won’t be quitting my day job.”

  We rode on in silence for another twenty minutes, then Tony’s voice came over the speaker, “Alpha One?”

  Deuce grabbed the mic and said, “Go ahead.”

  “First objective secured,” Tony said. “Moving overland. Will call when feet dry.”

  “Roger,” Deuce said. “Alpha One out.”

  A second later Chyrel’s voice came over the speaker, “Alpha Base has eyes, clear ahead.”

  “Roger, Base,” Tony said. “Alpha Two out.”

  “How long will it take them to get where they’re going now?” Tina asked.

  “Maybe forty minutes over land,” Deuce said. “Then another half hour under water and a slow thirty minute crawl to cover the last hundred yards to their objective.” Checking his watch, he said, “Probably won’t hear from them again until 0245 or 0300.”

  We rode on in silence for another ten minutes, then Tina said, “You guys go get some rest. I can keep watch for a while.”

  “I’ll come up and relieve you in two hours,” Julie said.

  I gave Tina a kiss, then the three of us climbed down the ladder and into the salon. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep,” Deuce said.

  “At least lay down and rest,” I said. “Julie, wake me at 0500 or earlier, if you need to.”

  I went forward and crawled into the bunk and was soon fast asleep.

  15

  Diving With Mayans

  I felt Tina crawl into bed beside me, but didn’t hear her. I rolled over and said, “Everything okay?”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I tried not to wake you. Everything’s fine. Julies at the helm and the guys are and I quote, ‘hunkered down’.”