Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series)

by Wayne Stinnett

  “Loud and clear,” came Deuce’s voice in a slight whisper.

  “Same here,” Julie piped in.

  “Roger on both of you. I’ll give Doc his when he gets changed.”

  Jackie’s voice came over the intercom, the light showing she was talking from the forward stateroom. “The President said that what the First Lady missed most about living in D.C. is she can’t get fresh dorado. What’s that?”

  I pressed the button on the intercom for the forward stateroom and said, “Thanks Jackie. Dorado is Texican for dolphin. Everyone riding okay down there?”

  “The Colonel and the Secretary look a little green, but the President is having a great time. Bender won’t allow him out of the cabin until we’re well offshore.”

  “Looks like we’re hunting mahi, Jules. I owe you $20.”

  “She’s below changing,” Deuce replied. “I’ll let her know.”

  “Let’s open ‘em up. Make your heading 130 degrees, we’re headed for the Stream.”

  I watched as the big center console surged forward to 30 knots. I pressed the button on the intercom to the whole boat and said, “Increasing speed, Mister President. We’re taking y’all out to the Gulf Stream. We always catch mahi along the weed lines out there. We’ll be there in about an hour. If you need anything, just ask Commander Burdick. Mister Bender, we’re two miles offshore now.”

  Doc climbed up to the bridge and took the helm so I could go down and change. He was wearing a long sleeved denim shirt and jeans, with boat shoes. I gave him the ear wig and he put it in his ear, without comment, and turning it on he said, “Com check.”

  “Good here,” I said. Julie and Deuce both responded that they could hear him too.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” I said. “We’re going to the weed line for mahi.”

  “Ya know,” Doc said. “It felt kinda good being in uniform again. Even if it was just a dog and pony show.”

  “Yeah, me too. Just a little.”

  I climbed down to the cockpit, where Bender and the other agent were still standing on either side, scanning the water behind us.

  “I apologize about back there, McDermitt,” Bender said. “Just doing my job.”

  “No worries, Paul. Just doing mine.”

  “Say, tell me something. In a pinch how fast can this boat go?”

  “On flat seas, with a following wind, about 47 knots.”

  He thought for a minute and responded, “That’s 55 miles per hour? That’s pretty damned fast. Hope we don’t need it, but it’s good to know.”

  I grinned and said, “The other boat can make 40 knots. We wouldn’t want to run off and leave your auto guns.” Then I disappeared through the hatch, leaving him wondering. Jackie was right, both Chertoff and Stockwell didn’t look real well. The President, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the ride. I guess if you can do barrel rolls in a fighter jet, a little rocking on the water won’t bother you. Jackie was still in the forward stateroom and I headed that way. As I passed Stockwell, leaning on the galley counter, I said, “Dramamine, top drawer right side.”

  “Thanks,” he said and reached for the drawer as I started down the steps. “Commander Burdick is still down there changing, Jesse.”

  “I know,” I said and saw him grin as he opened the top on the pill bottle, swallow one and pass it to Chertoff.

  Jackie had on a pair of jeans and a red, long sleeve cotton shirt. She was tying her hair in a loose pony tail when I walked in.

  “Why exactly am I here, Jesse?”

  “I kinda like having you around,” I said, slipping my arms around her from behind. “Plus the duties of Second Mate include being Galley Wench.”

  She spun around inside my arms and punched me hard in the shoulder. “Galley Wench, huh?”

  “Well, it’s a step up from Swab.”

  “Seriously,” she said, “why did you ask me to come along?”

  “You were the one that took the call from Chertoff, when I was still in the hospital, remember? I just thought you’d get a kick out of meeting him and the President.”

  “That’s it, then?” she said as she withdrew from my embrace.

  “And the Galley Wench part. Doc and I will be pretty busy. Maybe you could offer refreshments? Make sandwiches? Usually, I tell my clients they’re on their own for drinks and food. Didn’t think that would be appropriate for these clients.”

  She smiled and said, “Yeah, I can handle that. How do I look?”

  “Good enough to eat,” I said and started to take my uniform blouse off. “Chertoff and Stockwell just took some Dramamine. They didn’t look too well. President Bush seems to be right at home, though.”

  “I’ll head on up and see if they need anything, then.”

  She left and I changed quickly. Taking off my trousers, I heard Julie in my ear wig. “You do realize you forgot to turn your com off, right, Jesse?”

  “Shit,” I said. “Sorry.”

  “Had a hard time not laughing,” Doc said. “Galley Wench?”

  “Hardy har, guys.” I dressed quickly in fishing shorts, topsiders and a Gaspar’s Revenge Fishing Charters tee-shirt. Since I’d be on the bridge most of the time, leaving the cockpit to Doc, I wasn’t too concerned with getting too much sun.

  When I stepped back up into the salon, the President was gone. Chertoff and Stockwell were sitting at the settee and Jackie was cutting up fruit and putting it into a bowl. Both men looked a little less green, but it would take at least a half hour for the medicine to have full affect.

  “At some point during the day,” Chertoff said, “the President would like to sit down with both you and Mister Talbot.”

  “On the way out would be fine. Jackie here can take the helm for a few minutes.” She looked up at me alarmed. I grinned at her and said, “The boat has autopilot, so you’d only have to keep an eye on things.”

  “Very good,” Chertoff said. “About fifteen minutes before we get to where we’re going would be fine.”

  I nodded and continued out to the cockpit, expecting to find the President in the fighting chair, but he was up on the bridge with Doc. I climbed up and Doc shifted over to the second seat.

  “I was just complimenting Doc here, on what a fine boat you have, Jesse.”

  “Thank you sir.”

  “Did Mike talk to you about having a few minutes of your time?”

  “Yes sir, he did.”

  “We really don’t need him and the Colonel, we can have our little pow wow right here and now, if it’s okay with you.”

  “Certainly, sir,” I said as Doc started to get up.

  “I wanted to talk to you, too, Doc.” He sat back down, looking puzzled.

  “There’s a couple of things I wanted to get straight from you two and something I’d like to ask you.”

  “Yes sir?” Doc and I said together.

  “I read Deuce’s report on what happened down south of here a few months back. Me and Mike talked about it at length. Deuce is a special agent for DHS and the two of you are more or less civilian contractors? Is that about right?”

  “Yes sir. That’s the arrangement we had with Jason Smith, Colonel Stockwell’s predecessor.”

  “He’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, but we’ll get to that later.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “One of Deuce’s men, Anthony Jacobs, was captured while on a fact finding mission and Deuce decided, without Smiths approval, to go in and extract him. Is that about the way it happened?”

  “Mister President, you’re a former military man and the current Commander in Chief. I’d be insulting you if I reminded you of the unwritten rule on leaving a man behind.”

  He sat back and laughed. “I like you Jesse. Not many men can be insulting, while saying they’re not. You’d have made a good Texican. You’re right, that’s not where I’m going, though. You obviously know Deuce very well?”

  “Since he was about five years old. His dad was my Platoon Se
rgeant in Okinawa.”

  “How well do you know Smith?”

  “I only met him a few times, sir. I wasn’t impressed. I thought him to be conniving and bent on furthering his career at any cost.”

  “An opinion shared by others, Jesse. Had Deuce waited for him to decide what to do, what do you think the outcome would have been?”

  I thought it over for a minute. “I’ve commanded men in combat, sir. I know the cut of a coward’s jib. If we hadn’t decided on going in, Tony would be dead and odds are, a lot of Cuban exiles in Miami would have died the following week.”

  He considered this, looking out over the bow. “I’m inclined to agree, Jesse. I don’t usually get in the way of the people I put in charge of doing things for the security of our country. Had I been in Smith’s place, or Deuce’s for that matter, I’d like to think I’d have done exactly what you men did that night. But, since this involved the illegal entry into a sovereign nation, even though it was a Communist nation, I had to come down here and get the word straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

  “Mister President,” I said, “I’ve followed every military decision you’ve made since 9/11 and I can say without hesitation, you’d have made the same decision that night.”

  “Thanks, Jesse. Now to the meat of the matter. We’re hearing more and more terrorist chatter throughout the Caribbean. Tell me something, how hard would it be to come into our country by boat down here?”

  “How hard? Sir, you know yourself how porous the southern border is. Imagine if there were tens of thousands of people running all up and down the Texas border in dune buggy’s hunting quail every day. How hard would it be for bad guys to cross that border in a dune buggy?”

  “I see your point. Just since leaving the marina, I’ve counted a dozen other fishing boats out here, both coming and going.”

  “Exactly, sir. On any given day there are tens of thousands of boats out here on the water. And that’s just from Key West to Miami. Thousands more on the Gulf side.”

  “That brings me to my question. Secretary Chertoff wants to expand Deuce’s team down here, bring in more men and equipment and enlarge the Coast Guard presence throughout south Florida and the Caribbean. The ability for terrorists to reach our shores here is a great threat to our national security. I agree with him. After reading the reports on your mission, my first recommendation to him was that you, and Doc here, both be attached permanently to DHS as special agents. What do you say?”

  “I can’t speak for Doc, sir,” I said. “But I have no need of a badge and like things pretty much as they are.” I looked over at Doc and nodded to him.

  “Mister President,” Doc began. “As I said earlier, I’ve given a lot of thought to reenlisting in the Navy. The only thing that’s stopped me has been my new wife. We’re planning a family, you see. A part of me says yeah, go for it. But, like Jesse says, I like it pretty much the way it is, where I can assess each mission and decide on whether I want to be part of it or not.”

  The President grinned and said, “That’s pretty much what Deuce told Mike last week. I don’t blame either of you. I’ll tell Mike to continue to honor the deal you both made with Smith.” Rubbing his hands together he added, “Now, how about we get to fishing. Laura has been wantin’ some fresh dorado for years. She doesn’t even know I’m down here. Gonna surprise her.”

  With that, he stood up and climbed down to the cockpit, where Bender and the other agent were waiting. “Better get down there, Doc, and get the outriggers set up,” I said. “We’re only a few miles from the weed line.”

  Ten minutes later Doc was shouting, “Fish on!” The President was in the fighting chair and I pulled the throttles back to an idle. A good sized bull dolphin hit the ballyhoo on the starboard outrigger. Doc pulled the rod from the holder and handed it to the President. It took him twenty minutes to get the big fish alongside, where Doc could gaff it and haul it aboard. The President didn’t need any coaching from Doc at all. It was obvious he’d fought many game fish. After a couple of pictures, Doc scaled it and said, “Forty-nine pounds, Mister President. Great job!”

  Over the next two hours, the President, Chertoff, Stockwell, and even Bender took turns fighting dolphin, wahoo, king mackerel and even a small yellowfin tuna. We released everything except the five biggest dolphin and a half dozen good sized mackerel.

  At noon, we stopped for lunch and just let the two boats drift near each other. Deuce came aboard the Revenge and I let Jackie keep an eye on the helm, the President and Chertoff wanted to see us both in the salon. “What do I do,” she asked.

  “Probably nothing,” I said. “Julie will keep the Cazador off of us. The radar is set to alert if anything comes within five miles, so just enjoy the view.” I climbed down and went into the salon.

  “You sure kept your word, Jesse,” the President said. “This has been a hell of a lot of fun.”

  The President and Chertoff were sitting at the settee and Stockwell was seated on the couch on the opposite side of the salon. Deuce and Doc were behind the counter in the galley.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said.

  “Have a seat. Mike here has a proposition for you.”

  I glanced at Deuce, who nodded imperceptibly and sat down at the far end of the settee, facing aft.

  “Like I told you, Jesse, Mike wants to expand operations down here. I told him you and Doc wanted to maintain the status quo and he’s come up with an idea I think you’ll like.”

  He nodded at Chertoff who looked at me and said, “Colonel Stockwell told me about your little island and how you and he plan to use it for training and as a jump off point for future missions. I want to duplicate this idea a little further up the Keys, maybe on the northern tip of Key Largo. We’d like you and Commander Livingston to locate the right kind of place and maybe even find another charter Captain up that way, with a similar background as your own. The Colonel is already in the process of recruiting a second team, to compliment Commander Livingston’s. His team, along with you and Petty Officer Talbot will continue to work and train just as you have been, no changes. But, we’d really like your help in finding the right person and the right boat for transporting the new team. Think you could help us out with that?”

  “I don’t see why not,” I said just as a loud beeping noise started. It was the radar alarm.

  Julie’s voice came over my ear wig, “We have company. A small craft headed our way, about five miles northwest.”

  Deuce heard her also and was already heading to the hatch. “Get the engines started, Jesse.”

  Julie had already come alongside and Deuce stepped easily over. As I climbed to the bridge I said to Bender, “Probably nothing, but there’s a small boat headed our way from the northwest.”

  Jackie slid over to the second seat and I sat down and started the engines. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Probably nothing,” I said. I switched the radar to a five mile radius and saw on the outer edge, what appeared to be a small fishing boat. I took the binoculars from the cabinet on the left side of the console and scanned the water to the northwest even though I knew the boat was small and too far away to see. “The radar’s alarm is set to five miles and a small boat is heading our way.”

  Stockwell figured out the intercom and I heard his voice over the speaker, “Give me a sitrep, Jesse.”

  “Nothing yet, Colonel. A small boat is heading towards us, about four miles out to the northwest right now. Probably just a sports fisherman.”

  I reached up and turned off the alarm, then checked the radar again. The boat was still coming straight towards us at about 20 knots. Over my ear wig, I heard Deuce say, “Let me know when you can see him, Jesse.”

  I scanned the horizon in the direction I knew the boat to be approaching from and finally spotted it. “Got him, Deuce. It’s a small cuddy cabin, maybe 23 feet.” I switched the intercom to the whole boat and repeated the information.

  Bender climbed up to the bridge with
his own binoculars. “Where is it?” he asked.

  I pointed in the general direction. “Still too far away to make out any detail.”

  We were broadside to the approaching boat and Julie was hanging off the stern, bow toward it. I checked the radar again and it was now within two miles and still coming straight at us. I turned on the VHF radio and checked that it was on channel 16. “This is M/V Gaspar’s Revenge calling the 23 foot cuddy cabin approaching our port side. Do you copy?”

  There was no response, so I repeated the call. Still nothing. “I have him now, Jesse,” Julie said over the ear wig. I looked back and she had drifted a little and was about 30 yards astern. She was standing to the port side of the center console, training her own binoculars on the approaching boat. The four agents with her, were all up in the bow now and Deuce was standing on the starboard side.

  Glancing at the radar, I could see that the boat was slowing and turning slightly east, now only a mile away. I was busy watching the radar screen when I heard Julie say, “It looks like the guy from the bar, Jesse. He’s stopping.”

  Beside me, Bender was looking through the binoculars and suddenly yelled, “RPG!”

  A sudden roar from behind us sounded as Julie nailed the throttle and turned the Cazador hard over on its chines, bringing it alongside, then shifting to reverse bringing the big open fisherman to a sudden stop.

  Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I looked across the Cazador toward the boat, which was broadside to us, just as a flash of white smoke came from it. In that same instant, the three men in the bow who were carrying the FN P90 machine guns opened up, firing toward the boat. He was way beyond their range. I heard a popping sound, as Julie fired a flare gun into the air. The incoming rocket propelled grenade suddenly turned skyward and exploded directly over the Cazador.

  I slammed both throttles to the stops, turned the wheel to starboard and yelled, “Doc, get the President to the engine room!”