by Dan Kelly
“Maybe we’ll be given access to that information when we get back to Miami.”
The phone rang again. This time it was Jake.
“Amigo, what the hell have you gotten yourself into now? Why all the secrecy and where are you? ”
Pete clued his buddy in, excluding the part about Sea Wasp, and finished with, “I don’t want to pull into your marina and expose you to any danger if we’re spotted talking. Is there somewhere we could meet where that wouldn’t be likely to happen?”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m about a mile off shore trolling in circles like I’m enjoying a day of fishing if anyone notices the yacht I’m on and it’s one of those yachts that people are inclined to notice.”
“Stay where you are. Give me your coordinates and the name of the yacht.”
Pete complied and Jake said he was on his way and hung up.
45 minutes later Jake was pulling alongside the Vuelta de Lujo in a small cabin cruiser that looked new and if Pete knew his friend it had all of the bells and whistles. “Business must be good. When did you get this little jewel?”
“Just a few days ago. This is the first time I’ve had her out.”
“You named her ‘My Other Woman’? What does Brenda think about that?” Brenda is Jake’s wife and a gorgeous sweetheart.
“She got a chuckle out of it and then said she was going to buy a Smart Car and have ‘My Sugar Daddy Switched to Sweet N’ Low’ painted on its backside.”
That got a chuckle out of Pete and Abby and Abby said “I think I’d like Brenda.”
Jake said, “I think you would too.”
Pete said, “Tie up and come on board. We’ll go below and get comfy and then I’m going to grill you like a well done burger.”
Three hours later Pete and Abby’s minds are reeling from all the information Jake has shared with them. Some of it came from Jake’s own observations, some of it was based on rumors, some of it came from conversations overheard and some of it came from personal experience. The topics covered everything from players in the local market, smuggling routes, material being smuggled, bases of operation and people in high places who were being bought off.
Abby asked him, “How come you know so much about these things? If you weren’t a friend of Pete’s whom he trusts without any reservation, I’d think you were one of the players.”
“Abby, if you have good eyes and ears and know how to keep your mouth shut, you can learn all kinds of things without getting your ass kicked or worse. I was approached by one of the cartels who wanted to use my marina in their smuggling operations and I refused, but avoided retaliation by recommending another marina that would provide more seclusion and an owner who had less scruples and was hurting for money. I knew this because people tell me things or are at least comfortable talking around me because they feel they can trust me to use the knowledge if I’m so inclined without getting them involved, without bringing any trouble down on their heads.
“I’ve seen with my own eyes the subs these people use to smuggle stuff from Mexico to the U. S., some heading for San Antonio, some for Miami and I’m sure other places as well.”
Abby followed up with, “How come you don’t pass on to the authorities what you pick up in your daily activities?”
“I want to go on living and keep my family out of harm’s way. There’s so much corruption in this neck of the woods, you don’t know who you can trust.”
Pete quickly jumped in with, “I assure you Abby and I will keep your name out of any reports we file. Your identity will be harder to make than that of the Unknown Soldier.”
“If I didn’t believe that, we wouldn’t be talking.”
“Okay my friend. Thanks for talking with us. We’ll be getting on our way now. Say hello to Brenda for me. I’ll be in touch when this is all over.”
They went topside and a minute later Jake was headed back to shore. The sun had set and a thick fog was settling in so My Other Woman soon disappeared into the dark mist except for the occasional glimpse of her running lights. A few minutes later all hell broke loose.
Pete and Abby had returned below deck and were getting ready to report in to Dave when they heard Manny shout, “We’re under attack! We’re under attack! Enemy aircraft at our six o’clock!”
When Pete and Abby got back top side, they saw two helicopters circling overhead with men shooting at them from the open cargo areas. To Pete they appeared to be Viet Nam vintage Hueys, UH-1Es that were used extensively by the Marines.
Pete yelled to Manny, “Any casualties? Has the yacht been hit?”
“One of my men took a minor flesh wound in the shoulder before we had a chance to return fire. I don’t know if the yacht’s been hit. I’ve been too busy dodging bullets and trying to put holes in these bastards to look.”
As Pete looked up to see what the Hueys were up to, one of them blew up about 500 feet above their heads. The three of them hit the deck and covered their heads with their arms, hoping that they wouldn’t be hit by falling debris. A minute later, Abby stuck her head up to see what she could see and witnessed the other helicopter disintegrate before her eyes a couple hundred yards off their stern.
Pete cautiously started to stand up, followed by Abby and Manny, and uttered the well-known expletive that is a common occurrence when you come within a hair’s breath of taking the last breath of your own. “What just happened here?”
Looking off their starboard bow, Manny said, “Look!” About 500 yards away was their guardian angel, a U. S. Navy Destroyer. It was barely visible in the thick fog which blocked out the moon and star light. Pete muttered, “I’ll be damned! Dave Morrison came through big time.”
Amazingly, but for some minor scratches from falling debris the Vuelta de Lujo had suffered no damage from the attack. Abby called Dave to clue him in on what had happened and to give him their report on what Jake had shared with them. “Please pass on our thanks to the crew of the destroyer. Will they be with us all the way to Miami?”
“They’ll be watching your backs until you’re within territorial waters off the coast of Miami. The
U. S. Coast Guard will take over from there.”
“Thanks, Dave, for everything. For a while there, I thought we were going to be food for the fishes.”
“Glad to be of service.”
When she went looking for Pete, she found him with Manny who was checking out his wounded guy. “You were a lucky man. You probably won’t even have a scar. Have Jerry clean it and bandage it up.”
Abby gave them the heads up on their escort situation and then Pete said, “Okay, let’s get out of here. I can’t wait to have at some of Rosa’s kitchen magic. If you like Mexican/Spanish cooking, I’ll see that you get a chance to savor it yourself.”
“I might take you up on that if Phil, Dave and the bad guys give us the time to do it. Our mission isn’t over yet and there still are targets on our backs. In fact, after the loss of those helicopters, I think the targets have gotten a lot bigger.”
“Well, now that you’ve put the final kibosh on a thoroughly horrible day, I think I’ll retire to my bunk and some fabulous nightmares.”
“Who’s going to be at the wheel while you’re slumbering the night away?”
“I’ll set the course on autopilot and Manny or one of his men will stand watch and wake me if they need me for anything. Sweet nightmares.”
“Don’t give up your day job, Brody. As a comedian you’d make a great undertaker.”
As they smile at each other, they’re both again wondering where their relationship might go when Sea Wasp is put to bed.
Chapter 24
-Miami, FL-
As they were leaving the harbor in Cozumel, Pete called Jake to see if he had gotten to shore safely and to clue him in on what had happened. “Fortunately, I wasn’t spotted when I pulled away from the Vuelta de Lujo and was docking at the marina when I heard the first sounds of gunfire and then minutes later I saw the explosions in
the sky. I didn’t know what was going on, but I figured you were in the middle of it whatever it was. Man, to have a destroyer watching your back means you’re definitely playing in the big leagues now. Please don’t send me any tickets for the next game. Being a couch potato is a lot healthier when it comes to the games you’re playing.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure my friend?”
“Marlin fishing off the coast of Baja is my idea of adventure, buddy. You can have what you’re into and all of my best wishes to boot.”
“Okay, Jake, I’ll take you off my mailing list. You take care my friend and thanks for everything.”
After the huge adrenaline rush their bodies had been put through, the comedown has made them tired and except for the man on watch, everyone was sound asleep within minutes of their heads hitting the pillow. The Vuelta de Lujo headed for home and arrived back in Miami without further incident. A U. S. Navy Destroyer can be very intimidating.
When they pull into port, a van driven by one of Phil Desoto’s people whom Abby has worked with before is waiting to take them to Morrison’s Dive Shop. Phil Desoto, Dave Morrison, Pete’s brother Paul and his partner Frank Delucia and three other men Pete doesn’t know are waiting for them when they arrive.
Upon seeing Paul Pete says, “Okay, Scrounger, how come my brother’s been invited to this little party?”
“Your brother is even more nosy and stubborn than you are. He didn’t buy your cover story and started digging around to find out what you were really into. When your mom told him about Bob Trumball’s kidnapping, that aroused his curiosity even further. He and his partner were getting very close to the truth of a lot of what’s been going on and were starting to make waves that we didn’t want. I had to do something soon or we might have had a tidal wave. So, I decided that we could use their skills and contacts in the Miami area and brought them into the loop and asked them to help us with the rest of our mission. I’m happy to say they agreed.”
“They know everything?”
“They do.”
Pete walked over to his brother who seemed to be fascinated with Polly the parrot. “Okay, bro, I see things haven’t changed one damn bit. You’re still crashing my parties.”
“And you, bro, still have the knack of getting your ass into major messes which I have to haul away before it gets kicked royally.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve got to lay off those meds. They’ve got you hallucinating again.”
After sharing a brief laugh, Paul got very serious. “Pete, I’ve got a very good lead on where your client Bob Trumball might be.”
“How did you come by that?”
“I’d like to be able to tell you it was through brilliant detective work, but it was by pure dumb luck. After Phil briefed us on what you and Abby had heard in San Juan regarding who had Trumball and that they were headed for Miami, Frank and I put together a game plan to find him.
“Our first step was to check out the Trumball residence for any sign of a note or something that might have come in the mail. Phil said this hadn’t been done because the thinking was when the kidnapping first took place that any contact that would be made would be by phone. A good tech could track down where an email originated and snail mail is too slow, the place, time and date it was posted is stamped right on the envelope and if the kidnappers had any smarts at all they wouldn’t want to stick their necks out by making this kind of info available to the authorities.
“When we pulled onto the Trumball’s street, we saw a young kid put something in their mail box, get on his bike and start to ride away. We followed him to a park where he met a man who gave him some money. The kid took off and we stayed with the guy in the park. He made a phone call and then led us to a large villa where a big guy was waiting for him on the veranda. I managed to take a picture of the both of them from our car. I ran the picture by Dave and he identified the big guy as a Pablo Salazar, someone I understand you met on your recent cruise around the Caribbean. The other man is a local carpenter, William Caldwell, who we identified through the license plate on his truck. He has no priors, but if he continues to hang around guys like Salazar that will certainly change.
“We went back to the Trumball’s to see what the kid put in the mail box and found this ransom note.” Paul pulled a piece of folded paper out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Pete. It contained three typed double spaced sentences.
We have your husband. It will cost you $1,000,000 USD to get him back alive and unharmed.
Call this number when you have the money ready for delivery. You have three days.
Don’t tell anyone what is going on if you want your husband to go on breathing.
Pete shook his head and said, “Something’s out of kilter here. Why put a note in the Trumball’s mail box now after all these weeks? That’s a hit or miss proposition. Millie Trumball may not get it. As far as the kidnappers know, she may be staying with friends to help her through this ordeal. Why not contact one of the TV stations in the Caribbean who’ve been broadcasting the story and a contact number? Something’s not right here. Abby and I heard the conversation between Juan Fuentes and Pablo Salazar in San Juan. Pablo agreed to give Juan a week to decide on issuing a demand for ransom. If he didn’t demand a ransom, Pablo was going to see that Bob Trumball disappeared. It’s been more than a week since that discussion. I was beginning to reconcile myself to the idea that Bob was no longer among the world of the living.”
“Well, it looks like this Pablo might have decided to take things into his own hands. Frank and I think there’s a good possibility that Mr. Trumball is being kept prisoner in that villa. We’ve been working on the best way to find out.”
Abby was talking with one of the three men who were strangers to Pete, but she broke away when Pete waved her over. He told her what Paul had just said and she had the same reaction Pete had. “It seems to me there’s been a change in plans somewhere along the line. Either Pablo has convinced Juan that enough time has elapsed to get Mrs. Trumball in a foreboding emotional state sufficient to make her ripe for the picking or Pablo decided since he has been and is taking all of the risk he would take over the timing of the collection of the ransom, maybe even cutting out Juan altogether in the bargain. If he kills Trumball, he gets nothing for his time and trouble.”
Paul asked, “But why not contact one of the TV stations that’s been broadcasting contact information? That would be the better way to get the ball rolling.”
Abby didn’t respond right away. She appeared off in another world for a minute and then she smacked the table that Polly’s cage was sitting on hard enough to motivate the loquacious bird to show off more of its vocabulary which, not surprisingly, included a string of impressive cuss words.
“Sorry, Polly. I think I know why. I agree with Pete, but with a twist. I think Pablo has told Juan that Trumball has been eliminated, but actually he’s keeping Trumball hidden because he’s decided to collect and keep the ransom for himself. If he contacts one of the TV stations, word will probably get out and Juan would find out what Pablo was up to. Approaching Mrs. Trumball directly, keeps things out of the media and away from Juan’s eyes and ears.
“I think Pablo is banking on sooner or later Millie is going to get her mail, either when she returns home or perhaps by someone picking it up and forwarding it to her. He’s probably willing to wait a little longer to see if things go the way he’d like them to.”
As what Abby has been saying sinks home, Pete and Paul start nodding their heads in agreement with what she has just surmised. Pete says, “Okay, so what’s our next step? How do we check out this villa?”
Paul says, “I think the first order of business is to stake out the villa, try to get a feel for how many people are there, their comings and goings, what they look like, etc. Maybe we’ll luck out and catch a glimpse of Trumball.”
