“What’s the connection?” Chertoff asked.
“We believe Darchevsky was the leader of the two men that attacked the President and tried to attack us here on the island. All three are known associates of Jason Smith and we believe he is in route here with a bomb.”
“What kind of bomb?” Chertoff asked.
Deuce motioned Tony over. “Mister Secretary, I’m Special Warfare Officer First Class Anthony Jacobs, EOD. The bomb has been described as a professionally assembled IED, if you will. It contains a shaped charge of semtex inside a small drum filled with nails. The charge alone is enough to completely obliterate a 2000 square foot concrete building. The shape is made to cause maximum casualties in a 45 degree arc from the source to a distance of 200 feet. Anyone inside that arc and distance will certainly be killed. Severe injuries will result out another 200 feet.”
“How can we assist you, Commander,” asked Mueller.
“I’m taking my team proactive, sir. We’d like you to pave the way with local law enforcement for our arrival in Key West at 0700, put out an APB on both Darchevsky and Smith, and ask the county Sheriff to set up a roadblock for outgoing traffic in Key Largo, disguised as a DUI checkpoint. We’re going to find him and apprehend him.”
“With the Secretary’s permission, I’ll get right on it. We already have assets in Key West and I’ll have two more agents out of the Miami field office join them. They’ll meet you at the Sheriff’s office. Anything else?”
“Yes sir,” I said. “Can you arrange for two nine passenger vans to meet us at Boca Chica Marina on board the Air Station? We’ll be arriving by boat.”
“I’ll send the Miami agents down in our two tactical vehicles. They can carry 13 passengers each. What’s your plan, Commander?”
“We believe the attacks on Talbot and Burdick were meant to draw us out, sir.”
“By proactive,” Stockwell said, “you mean to set yourselves up as targets?”
“Yes, Colonel,” Deuce replied. “That’s exactly what I mean. This team was assembled to search out and neutralize terrorist threats in the Caribbean. With the attack on the President, and the use of this explosive device, in my opinion this qualifies as a terrorist threat and Key West is pretty much within our prescribed jurisdiction.”
Chertoff said, “While your opinion may be open to interpretation, your team is uniquely qualified to conduct just such an operation. You have a green light, Commander.”
“Thank you, sir,” Deuce said.
“Deuce,” Stockwell said. “Be careful. I’ll have an open line to both the Secretary and the Director. I’m leaving DC within the hour and will meet you at the Air Station. Keep me updated.”
All three screens winked off nearly at once. “Let’s saddle up the troops,” Deuce said. “Chyrel, activate all personal comm gear with tracking activated and link us all together. Print out 20 copies of Darchevsky’s photo. Jesse, I’m putting you in charge of half the team, Kumar the other half. Scott, Julie and I will use the Revenge as a command and control center.”
We walked outside. The sky was just beginning to lighten to the east. The team was assembled around the tables, including Doc. “Nikki’s done in,” he said. “She’s crashed in the crew cabin.”
“And you’re not?” I asked.
“No,” he replied simply.
“Everyone take a seat,” Deuce said from the end of the table.
When everyone was seated, he brought them up to speed on the developments of the previous twelve hours. He broke everyone up into two teams, Alpha and Bravo. I had Doc, Tony, Jared, Charity, Dawson, Grayson, and Simpson in Bravo. Kumar had Art, Sherri, Hinkle, Mitchel, Bourke and Goodman in Alpha.
“Everyone dress in civilian clothes, long pants and DHS windbreakers,” Deuce said. “We’ll leave here aboard Jesse’s boat in one hour and arrive at the marina on the Air Station, where we’ll board two FBI tactical vehicles. Scott, you and Julie will stay with me aboard the boat. Your earwigs all have tracking software and from the boat we’ll be able to follow each of you.”
Chyrel came out and passed out the photos of Darchevsky. “This is Dimitri Darchevsky,” Deuce said. “He’s a Russian national raised in California. He used to be with the CIA and has been responsible for several assassinations in Eastern Europe. He’s considered extremely dangerous. When we get to Key West, both teams will proceed to the Sheriff’s Office on Whitehead Street, accompanied by an FBI driver. There you’ll meet up with two more FBI Agents and the Watch Commander for the Sheriff’s Department. Every law enforcement officer in the Keys has received an APB with Darchevsky’s photo, from the Marine Patrol to Shore Patrol and everyone in between. I want you all to spread out through the city on foot and check every hotel, motel, resort, rental house, and flop house on the island.”
Hinkle raised his hand and said, “What weapons are we to carry, mate?”
Deuce grinned, “Bring your long gun, Donnie. Jesse, where should they set up?”
“The two tallest structures on the island are the lighthouse and the La Concha. The lighthouse has a clear view all the way up Truman and Whitehead in both directions. The roof of La Cocha has a clear view up both Duval and Fleming.”
“Donnie you take La Concha. Jared, are you comfortable perching in the lighthouse? It’ll be eyes only, I’m sure and you won’t have a spotter.”
“Yes sir,” Jared replied. “Eyes only.”
“I can spot for him,” Charity said. “I’ve been working with Julie doing it and we can see more with two pair of eyes up there.”
“Okay, we’ll have Key West PD provide security on the ground at the lighthouse and on the roof of La Concha. Everyone else will carry side arms only. Concealed. We don’t want to upset the civilians. Any questions?”
“If we find him, do we take him down or just alert the locals,” Kumar asked.
“DHS has the lead, with backup from the Feebs and locals. If you spot him and can take him down without risk to any civilians, do it. If there’s any risk at all, call for backup. Chyrel has us all on the same comm and will provide instant location to send the nearest backup. Anything else?”
Nobody said anything more. “Go gear up and be up on the deck in 15 minutes.”
As everyone started toward the bunkhouses, Deuce pulled Jared aside, “Get with Tony, he always carries an extra wind breaker. I’m going out on a limb, but you’re officially a part of this team on Jesse’s word.”
“I’m good, sir,” he said. “Being here has been a huge blessing for me and everyone has been a great help. Thanks for the opportunity.”
Deuce and I watched as he walked toward the bunkhouse. “Charity will keep an eye on him, Deuce.”
Doc and I headed across the clearing. I needed a quick shower while Doc got the engines started and the boat ready for departure. Ten minutes later, I was dressed and on the bridge. Doc had already woke Nikki, and she’d reluctantly remain on the island until we returned. A few minutes later, the team started boarding by ones and twos. Deuce and Julie were last to board, carrying two briefcases. While my boat’s not exactly designed to accommodate 18 people, we were only going to be aboard for a little over an hour. Deuce, Doc, and Kumar joined me on the bridge as I idled south toward Harbor Channel.
While I switched on the radar, sonar, UHF and VHF radios, Deuce made a comm check to insure everyone’s ear wigs were functioning properly and checked with Chyrel to make sure all 18 identifiers were reporting.
A moment later I brought the Revenge up on plane heading northeast toward Harbor Key Bank and the narrow cut to the open Gulf. Sunrise would be in less than a half hour, but it was already light enough to see the crab trap markers for the cut.
Once in open, deep water, I pushed the throttles to the stops and the big boat surged forward reaching its top speed of 49 knots in just a few seconds. I made a slow, sweeping turn on the flat, Gulf water to the southwest and entered the north jetty markers for Northwest Channel as a waypoint on the GPS. The autopilot corrected our hea
ding a few degrees and showed an estimated arrival of 32 minutes.
We never slowed down as I made the turn into Northwest Channel. Early morning boat traffic on a Friday is always very light and in fact we only passed a single fishing boat coming out of the channel before we turned into it. Ten minutes later, I turned due east around Whitehead Spit and skirted the south side of Key West. Somewhere on that island we hoped to find Darchevsky. But, it was going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.
As we approached the two story tall light that marked Boca Chica Channel, I slowly brought the Revenge down off plane and turned northeast into the channel. Once we were in the marina basin, I reversed the starboard engine, skidding the boat sideways while still moving toward the dock. Standing up and using my back on the wheel, I reversed the port engine and backed the Revenge alongside the main dock at the far end, where two large, black vehicles sat with revolving blue lights on the roof.
Doc was on the bow and Dawson at the stern and they had us tied off before I even shut down the engines. The Dockmaster started our way, but as soon as he recognized the Revenge from the previous weekend and saw all the black DHS jackets, he quickly returned to the marina office.
I joined Deuce and Kumar and walked toward the vehicles where the two FBI agents waited, a man and a woman. “Looks like the DHS has just invaded the Conch Republic,” the man said. “I’m Special Agent Harry Sherman and this is Special Agent Amanda Elson.”
“Deuce Livingston, Caribbean Counter-Terrorism Command,” Deuce said shaking hands with both agents. “These are my team leaders, Kumar Sayef and Jesse McDermitt.”
“We were briefed on the manhunt and I was instructed to give your people a ride to the Sheriff’s office and basically be at your beck and call.”
“We appreciate that,” Deuce said, ignoring the sarcasm. The Bureau didn’t like being on the following end of any investigation. “Our team is made up primarily of former and current SpecOps people from all branches of the military. Any help the Bureau can provide in finding this man will be needed.”
A Gulfstream G-5 flew over on approach and I noticed it had DHS markings. “That’ll be the Director, Deuce.”
Minutes later, a Navy sedan pulled up and Stockwell got out of the passenger side, along with an older man who carried a large case. He looked to be in his 60’s but carried himself like a man half his age, as the two walked toward us.
“Director Stockwell, these are Special Agents Sherman and Elson,” Deuce said. Then turning to me he said, “Jesse, meet Jim Franklin. He’s got some electronics to set up, would you show him aboard.
I shook hands with the man and said, “Pleased to finally meet you, Jim. Follow me.”
“Likewise, Jesse. Real sorry about what happened last fall. But, I was happy to hear one of the guys died slow, choking on his own blood.”
Changing the subject I asked, “What’s in the case?”
“Oh this? Just one of my toys. It’s an interface for cell phones. Uses a real sophisticated algorithm to locate a specific cell phone signal, by sort of connecting the dots between one or two other signals. You’re heard of the ‘Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon’? How any individual is connected through other individuals to just about anyone within six steps? This baby does that with phones.”
We stepped aboard the Revenge and I was pleased to see that Jim was actually wearing sneakers with his business suit. He caught me looking down and said, “Travis insisted. Said you were kind of particular about the decks.” I opened the hatch to the salon and as he entered he let out a low whistle and said, “Yep, I can see why.”
“Right over here, Jim,” Scott said. “On the end of the settee. Julie and I are set up to monitor everyone’s comm and location.”
“As I was saying, Jesse,” Jim said placing the case on the counter and opening it. “If I enter two phone numbers in this baby, it’ll run through every number both of them called and find any that are in common. Then it’ll use that data and locate any phone that was within a meter of any other that was called more than once. That finds any accomplices and any burn phones the target might have. Deuce said you were going to do a manhunt on foot. By the time you guys get spread out, I’ll be able to tell you where your target is within two meters.”
“That’s a cool toy, Jim.”
He lifted what looked like a giant laptop computer from the case and gently placed it on the table and looked around. “There’s a power strip inside the cabinet, Jim. Hope you find him, it’ll make our job a lot easier.”
Deuce and Kumar were on the dock as I stepped off the boat. “The other two Feebs are at the Sheriff’s office with the Watch Commander,” Deuce said. “They’ll will meet you and Kumar when you get there. Our two shooters with their spotters will be driven to their locations by a pair of Deputies and everyone else will spread out from there. I hope Jim can locate Darchevsky fast, otherwise the search could take days.”
“He seemed to think it wouldn’t take long,” I said.
“Once you hook up with the Watch Commander, since you know the island, I want you to assign everyone a section. Use the vehicles to move the teams as the two of you see fit. You can split the teams north and south of Truman.”
Kumar and I headed toward the parking lot and joined the others, climbing into the two large vans. A few minutes later we were crossing the bridge from Boca Chica to Stock Island and then on into Key West. It only took ten minutes to get to the Sheriff’s office and the two vans parked in the main courthouse parking lot. Two men in FBI jackets waited with a uniformed Sheriff’s Department Lieutenant.
I climbed out of the passenger seat and told the others to stay close, we’d be leaving in the van in a few minutes. Kumar and I walked over and introduced ourselves to the two agents and the Lieutenant. Four more Deputies stood behind the Lieutenant.
The Lieutenant was a stocky man by the name of Dwayne Breece. “I’ve been briefed by these two agents and have two squad cars and four Deputies at your disposal. We’ve called in every available Deputy and they’re already out in the streets.”
I stepped up a little closer to the Lieutenant and said, “The man we’re after is the one your department wrote off as a ‘biker gang’ shooting yesterday, Lieutenant. The so called ‘biker’ that was shot at is one of my men.”
“An unfortunate mistake, Gunny. I know Doc very well, but wasn’t on duty at the time of the shooting. The Detective that took his and Nikki’s statement has been reprimanded and the report revised.”
I studied him closer. His attitude and bearing spoke volumes. “Semper Fi, Eltee.”
“Oohrah, Gunny. We’re down to a skeleton crew in both our offices here and over on Stock Island. Every available badge from both the Department and Key West PD is out looking and ready to help in any way we can. Sobriety check points are being set up every ten miles all the way to the mainland. A contract killer is something we want off this island even more than you.”
“Thanks, Eltee,” I said. Then turning to the group I shouted, “Williams, Hinkle, get over here!”
The two men trotted over with their spotters, carrying their rifles in two unmarked fly rod cases I’d given them.
“Go with those deputies. They’ll take you to your nests and act as security while you’re there. Let Kumar and I know when you’re set up.”
The four Deputies walked with them to the squad cars and drove away in opposite directions. The Lieutenant walked with us to the group and handed out street maps of the island to each person. “Kumar,” I said, “Take your group in the van down Whitehead here to the Southernmost Point. Split up there and start checking restaurants and any places that rent a room, working your way east and north to Truman. My group will go up to Mallory Square and start working south and east. The island’s small, but there’s more than 350 restaurants and over 150 hotels. Use the van to drop a man off every few blocks along South Street and Atlantic Boulevard. We’ll do the same on the north side, along Eaton Street. The important thing is to g
et spread out fast. With so many places to look, we have to count on Jim finding his electronic signature first then converge on his location.”
“Roger that, Gunny,” Kumar said. Minutes later the two vans split up, heading north and south on Whitehead to our destinations. Within ten minutes everyone was on foot, working a grid. Chyrel kept us from overlapping and directed each individual.
Within an hour, I was starting to get the overwhelming feeling that there were just too many places to hide. By 0930, I was certain of it. I was on Eisenhower Drive, near Garrison Bight and about to enter Harborside Motel when Deuce’s voice came over my comm.
“Jesse, Kumar, this is Deuce. Jim has a hit. The target is stationary at the corner of Olivia and Elizabeth Streets.”
“I’m nearly a mile away, on the east end of Olivia,” I said. “Headed that way.”
Deuce’s voice came over the comm again, “Jared, about 500 yards to the northeast of the lighthouse. You should have line of sight. There’s a restaurant called Seven Fish, can you see it?”
“Negative,” Jared said. “I can see up Olivia and counting the intersections I can see Elizabeth, but the structures on either side are obscured by trees.”
“This is Grayson, I’m on Elizabeth, two blocks away.”
“Roger Grayson. Julie says you and Sherri are closest, she’s moving north on Elizabeth and Jesse’s coming west on Olivia.”
Within seconds two more team members were converging on the restaurant, from the east and west.
“Target is on the move,” Deuce said. “Heading west on Olivia.”
I heard Charity say, “It’s Darchevsky. No doubt about it. He’s wearing tan slacks, a light blue shirt and a dark blue windbreaker. He’s walking straight toward us.”
“Hold your fire, Jared,” I said. Grayson and Sherri will be turning the corner behind him any second and I’m less than two blocks away.” I turned up the speed as I passed the cemetery. Halfway down the block between Windsor and Elizabeth, I saw Sherri stop at the corner of the restaurant and peek around.
Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series) Page 24
