by David Banner
But I couldn't risk letting him get away. I couldn't risk letting him get back to Sofia. My plan would be ruined, and I might never see Rachel again. Pulling back with every ounce of strength I had, I gave him a hard punch to the jaw, causing him to release his grip on the gun. I quickly scooped it up and slid it into the back of my pants. I needed to get away and quickly.
My boat was only a few feet away and I couldn't risk leaving the man. If someone saw him before I made it back, I'd be screwed. I had already seen two police cars drive by the window from inside Mr. Mitchells office. But I needed this guy to be quiet, like really quiet.
Straddling his chest, I began slamming my fists into his face, one after the other in quick repetition. Blood splattered from his mouth, flying in almost every direction, and landing on my hands, on my shirt, and covering the sand all around us. I pulled together every ounce of anger I had, images of Micah sitting in jail, images of Rachel, of Hope, of the two women senselessly killed. All in the name of crime and corruption. It was all the fuel I needed, but after about a minute of nothing but anger running through my body, I fell over onto my side and melted into the ground.
It took a minute, but I finally managed to get myself to my feet. I needed to get this guy to the boat, but he was big and heavy which made dragging him across the sand a time-consuming thing to do. Just as we were almost at the boat I heard a phone ring out from what sounded like a couple of hundred feet away.
"Oh no ..." I said to myself, looking up and realizing it was the phone I had taken from this guy and tossed onto the sand.
I reached down and grabbed him tight, trying my best to pull him as fast as I could. I began to hear voices in the distance, and looking up again, I saw the other two men from before were now standing on the sand, one of them holding the phone in his hand and looking around.
I pulled the last of the large man's body onto the boat and fired up the engine. The sound echoed out across the sand, sending the two men running toward me. But I was okay, I was already on the boat. And quickly I sped away across the dark water. I had made it out okay, at least, that’s what I thought.
But after only a few minutes on the water, I heard another boat coming up behind me and closing in quickly. I turned back to see the two men from the beach. They must have had a boat stationed near Mr. Mitchell’s office. That, or they had stolen one nearly as soon as I left. Whatever the case though, I knew I had to get away. I needed to get back to the party and disappear into the crowd.
But the boat was gaining on me quickly. I could see their two bald heads reflecting under the moonlight as they approached faster and faster. Their boat was roughly the same size as mine, if just a few feet longer, but from the looks of it they didn't seem to be the best drivers in the world, not that it required much talent to chase someone across open water, but I had sailed around Anna Maria Island several times since moving there, and I knew the layout of the island pretty well. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.
We were heading quickly up the coast of the island. I could see South Bay Street off to my left and nothing but open water to my right. A few hundred feet in front sat a long pier outstretched far into the water. It had only been a few days ago when Rachel and I walked along that pier, stopping for a beach towel at the small shop at its end.
But the two other men were on me now, only a few feet away and riding parallel with me. I looked over to see one of them holding a gun in the air, pointing it right at me. I swerved hard to the right, slamming my boat into theirs and sending the guy falling to the floor. I quickly gunned the motor. Taking a hard right just in front of the pier I hoped they couldn’t match my moves and that they would slam into the thing, but the driver seemed to be better than I thought.
He was right behind me, dodging the pier with no problem. In an instant they were right beside me again. I took another hard turn to the right, but this time they turned back. Our two boats roared against one another nose-to-nose. I pulled hard to the left, sending the unconscious guy on my floor rolling across the boat.
The two men crossed in front of me, clipping the port side of my small boat and almost causing me to lose control of the thing completely. I bounced on the rippling water, landing hard beside them. I took a hard left around the tip of Anna Maria, from there Bean Point was only a couple of minutes away, and I needed to get there and off this boat as soon as possible.
My boat rocked hard again as the duo slammed into my port side again, this time firing several shots right at the engine compartment of my boat. Flames erupted from the small boat and smoke bellowed out into the night sky. But I still needed to get back to that party, back to Micah.
"Fuck you!" I yelled, turning my boat fast and hard.
The two vessels collided again, sending me stumbling for a second. That second though; was apparently long enough for one of the men to jump hard and make it over onto my boat. His body lay on the bow in front of me. I began swerving from side to side, trying my best to knock him lose, but he held on tight, making his way ever closer to the windshield.
The other boat didn't fare so well though, hitting a large ripple and becoming airborne. I watched as it crashed hard into the water, sending its only passenger flying out into the dark ocean water.
I could see the lights of the party in the distance. It was straight ahead. I would be there in less than two minutes.
'BANG! BANG!'
Shots rang out from in front of me. The small windshield shattered into a thousand pieces disappearing into the dark ocean night. I dove for the floor, covering my head with my hands. Seconds later I felt a sharp blow into my stomach. I looked up to see the man standing over me.
To my left was an empty gas can. I quickly reached for it and jabbed the long metal scepter into his groin. He wrenched over in pain as I managed to make it to my feet. Flames rose all around us as smoke blew out in almost every direction. Grabbing the metal can again I gave it a hard thrash across his back, dropping him to one knee.
Looking back, I could see we were now only a couple of hundred feet from one of the party boats. I quickly ran over to the wheel, trying my best to turn the boat in any direction, but it was useless, the fire must have burned through the rudder because nothing I did seemed to alter the course of the boat. In only seconds we would collide with a large yacht filled with partygoers.
My world shook as I felt a hard blow to the back of my head. I turned to see my assailant holding the same gas can I used to hit him. He was rearing back hard again, ready to slam the thing into my face. Bracing myself against the wheel I gave him a hard kick to the balls, grabbed him by the shirt, and tossed him off the boat.
Pulling the gun from the back of my pants I began firing it into the air and pressing down hard on the boats horn. This ship was only seconds away from exploding into a fireball, and I needed those people off that yacht. It was working though. I could hear the screams and see people jumping into the water and swimming for shore.
I stayed as long as possible, pressing down on the horn, and firing my gun into the air until the bullets ran dry. With just a few yards separating my small speed boat from the large yacht, I took a dive off the side and into the water, swimming hard for shore.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU BLEW UP A YACHT ... AND A SPEED BOAT ... DUDE, THAT WAS AMAZING!"
"Amazing isn't the word I would have used," I said, raising my arm as Micah wrapped bandages around my abdomen. "I just want to be able to have a normal day that doesn't involve me fighting someone."
He smiled at me for a minute, then fell silent. "Do you think this is what it was like for mom and dad? Going out into the night, fighting for the right thing, then coming back and bandaging one another up?"
"I think it was a lot like this, yeah."
"Well ..." Micah said. "Then I'm glad it's like this again. I'm not saying I'm glad you’re hurt. I'm just saying ... I'm glad I can be here to help fix you up again. Ya know?"
"I know, Micah. I'm, glad too."<
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"So, what did Charles Mitchell say? What's the plan now?"
"He wasn't so much on board with helping out. I couldn't really get anywhere with him. He thinks his security is tight enough that no one will be able to get to him, or his family."
I hated lying to my brother, but I had to. The more he knew, the more danger he was in. And I couldn't let him be in danger, not when this had nothing to do with him. Sofia came for me, not Micah. I was the one who met with Sharon Rhodes, I was the one who pulled her body up from the ocean floor. Not Micah. I had to keep him free of all this. It was the best thing for him.
"That sucks! That woman is crazy, and she has a lot of people on her side. Lots of dangerous people. If they want that girl, they'll get her."
"That’s what I tried to tell him," I said. "But I couldn't make him understand. He's not that kind of person. His mind doesn’t live in that world."
"What world?"
"The criminal world."
"He's running for fucking District Attorney. How can he not know what criminals are capable of?" Micah asked.
"He's a good guy, salt of the earth kind of guy. He doesn't see things that way. In his mind, justice prevails, and criminals lose. That’s the way of it. He's just green, that’s all. He'll ripen up after a year or two. I promise you."
"A lot of good that'll do. This bitch wants to you to kidnap this girl tomorrow."
"I know," I said. "I'm going to make it look like I tried. Like I tried and failed. Maybe if she thinks I'm not capable she'll release Rachel, and if not, then I'll take her back. But either way, I can't kidnap a child. I'm not going to do that."
"Of course not," Micah said. "We're not criminals."
"No," I said. "We're not."
I only had a day to get this plan together, and if it was going to work I couldn't leave anything to chance. I had to plan out every detail, down to the letter. And I had to start by talking to that fucking lawyer.
"Okay ..." I said. "I'm gonna get this over with."
"Sure you don't want me to go?"
"No. I'm good."
Heading down the driveway to my car, I couldn't help but be drawn to the beach. It happened this way almost every morning. I would wake up, smell the gulf breeze, and head out onto the sand. It was like a siren song, calling out to me, and I was powerless to stop it.
There was an easiness to it, a comfort and peace that I hadn't been able to find anywhere else. Even in Miami, the water, the air, it just never felt right. But here, on this small island looking out onto the warm blue water, it just felt right. I felt at home and I wasn't ready to let anyone take that away from me. Not yet.
I sat there for a while, wondering where they were. I knew I was being watched, but I hadn't really taken the time to figure out how. Were they hiding in cars? Probably. Had they rented the vacation home two houses down? Likely. Whatever the case, I knew Sofia Alvarez had eyes on me and she wasn't about to lift her gaze.
I must have sat listening to the waves for almost an hour. Letting time just slip by without trying to catch it. But, as much as I wanted to stay there and just enjoy the warm sun on my face, I knew I had something to do. Something to do, and someone to talk to.
"Brandon Waters," said Detective Barnes. "It's been a while."
"Yes, it has," I said. Remembering back to the last time we spoke and hoping this time would go a little better.
"You're just one troublesome day on my calendar after another, young man."
"Sorry about that. Not my intention."
"So ..." He took a breath. "Why don't you tell me what you saw. All I need is a statement."
"Just a statement, then I'm gone?" I asked.
"Hell ..." he said. "I wouldn't even need that if everyone at that party hadn't been wearing one of those damn hats. But you and your brother's names were literally everywhere, so it’s only right I speak to you. But this is one time, I can honestly say you had nothing to do with what happened. Just a bunch of drunk, damn kids."
"Right," I said. "Well ... we were just there to hand out hats. As a promotion. Micah’s idea. I stayed for probably an hour but I was already home by time the accident took place."
"Did you see anything—"
"I need a moment alone with my client," Juan Medina said, throwing open the door.
"This is just simple questioning," the detective said. "A lawyer really isn't nec—"
"A moment alone, please."
"Sure thing."
"What the hell is this about?" Juan said, slamming the door behind him. "I gave you specific instructions not to speak to anyone without my being present."
"I was just giving a statement," I said.
"Yes, I heard. A statement about what?"
"I was at that party last night. There was an accident. Just a witness statement."
"Were you involved?"
"No," I said. "I was already gone."
"My employer is not happy with the events of that party. All this news being drawn to the island isn't good for keeping a low profile. And in this business, you need a low profile."
"Right," I said.
So far everything was going to plan. Juan Medina had shown up just after I arrived at the police station and he was talking. I just needed him to say the right thing and I needed to get it on tape.
"I'm still not comfortable with what Sofia is asking me to do."
"I fail to see how that matters," he said.
"How do I know that if I do this she'll turn over Rachel?"
"She always keeps her promises. Which also means that if you fail, and you don't leave there with what she wants, you'll likely never see that woman again. At least, not alive."
"I'm just supposed to go in blind? Just walk into a girl’s party and walk out with her, unnoticed?"
"You're a resourceful man, Mr. Waters." Juan looked into my eyes. "I'm sure you'll find a way."
"And you really think that'll work. You really think that will make Charles Mitchell agree to cover a drug smuggling ring?"
"It worked for you. You're doing what you swore you wouldn't, just to get a woman back. What makes you think Mr. Mitchell wouldn't do the same for his daughter? People are easy, Mr. Waters, everyone has a price, the sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be."
"And what's Sofia Alvarez's price?" I asked.
"You're already paying it, Mr. Waters. And unless you do what you're told, you'll keep paying it. For the rest of your life. Now get up, I've got places to, and you've got work to do."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T HE TIME FOR ZOEY MITCHELL’S BIRTHDAY PARTY HAD FINALLY ARRIVED. And if everything went to plan, Rachel would be free, Zoey would be safe, and I'd be free of this whole debacle by the end of the night. All I had to do was make Sofia Alvarez think I had taken the young girl captive.
After getting the recording of my conversation with Juan to Charles Mitchell he was more than willing to give me anything I needed. Which included a new gun and a few choice members of his security detail. Each one with a specific job to do. We had to make this look real. Sofia had to believe it.
The plan was simple. We would put a decoy in Zoey's place. A scene would erupt, I would take her out, and once anyone realized I had the wrong girl, the real Zoey would be long gone. Easy as pie, right?
"Name?" the security detail said as I approached the door.
"Brandon Waters."
The muscular guy slid his index finger up and down each page on his clipboard until finally stopping. "Yes," he said. "Here you are. Enjoy the night."
Right away the party wasn't what you'd expect from a sixteen-year-old. With colorful flowers and large skulls lining the walls. The entire building was decked out floor to ceiling in Day of The Dead décor. Loud, Spanish music filled the air as people, most of whom were dressed in elaborate costumes, danced around, smiling, and laughing.
Had it been under other circumstances I could have really seen myself enjoying a night like this. But I was here on business, I had a very spe
cific task, and I needed to get it done as soon as possible. Heading into the center of the room I noticed a face-painting station, and I thought I'd better make use of it to try to blend in as much as possible.
I sat down and gave the artist a smile. "Something simple. Like everyone else ..."
"Sure thing." He smiled back.
I just needed a few more minutes to put my plan into action, and with Micah busy back at the bar, it shouldn't have been hard to find. My mind drifted back some years to my childhood. Micah always wanted to go to Mexico City for the Day of The Dead festival. He talked about it every year as a child. It was like clockwork. Come early October he would begin painting skulls and drawing colorful designs all over anything he could get his hands on.
And even though they always began with the best of intentions, somehow our plans would fall through, and we wouldn't get to go. Our parents would receive a new case or get a tip on an old one that needed following up on. Whatever the case, something always stopped us from going.
But being here now, I couldn't help letting images of their faces and the sounds of their voices fill my head. It's strange how after Mom and Dad disappeared Micah just stopped talking about it, but until then, I hadn't even realized it. I suppose maybe he thought it'd be too much pressure on me to bring it up. Or maybe the thought of the festival just reminded him of Mom and Dad after that. I couldn't be sure.
Whatever the case though; I decided then that we would go to Mexico City. And that we would march in the parade with painted faces and skull-print suits. After everything we had gone through lately, and everything we were about to go through, Micah deserved it. We both did.
"There ya go," the artist said, pulling his paintbrush back and grinning wide.
