Painted Beauty

by J. M. LeDuc

  “It’s great to see you both again.”

  Fletcher extended his fingers and Sin placed her lit cigarette between them. He brought it to his mouth, and inhaled.

  “Still bumming cigarettes, I see” Sin grinned.

  “You know I don’t smoke,” Fletcher responded, blowing rings above Sin’s head.

  “So now that we’re here, what’s the plan?” he said, handing the cigarette back to her.

  Sin filled them in on what she knew about the mysterious ‘Joel’ and what she’d found out from Detective Anderson.

  “So what’s our first move,” Garcia said.

  “I want to check with the composite artist and then we need to figure out how to get onto Water’s Edge without being spotted.” Sin opened the door and led the two men back upstairs.

  “What about Duggen’s men?” Garcia asked.

  “If Bill trusts them, they’re good. We’ll be walking in blind for the most part, so we can use an extra man on the ground as well as another sniper up above. And they know the lay of the land.”

  “Once we’re in position, what then?” Garcia asked.

  “Then we rain royal hell down on anyone we come across,” Sin replied.

  Fletcher emitted a slight laugh. “Damn, I’ve missed you.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Sin called Jack and told him that there had been some new developments. “Grab Gonzales and meet me at HQ,” she said.

  He didn’t wait for particulars. “We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Sin left Fletcher and Garcia in the conference room to read over the files and get briefed by Metcalf and King while she went to an empty office to clear her head.

  She had just sat down and started to think the mission through when she heard arguing coming from the conference room. Sin jumped up and ran toward the noise to see who was involved; it was Jack and Fletcher.

  “Hey!” she screamed, throwing open the door. “What the hell is this all about?”

  Jack turned to her; his face blood red. “I just told this backwater son of a bitch that his presence wasn’t needed here and to go back to fighting for the highest bidder.”

  “And I told him to fuck off!” Fletcher yelled.

  Sin stood between the men who towered over her, and yelled at them both. “Sit down. I have no time for this bullshit. We have one hour to plan a raid on,” she threw her hands up in the air, “on a situation where months of planning by Agent Duggen and his men has gone to hell due to Rand and his testosterone-filled assholes. I don’t need two bickering a-holes of my own.”

  She jabbed her finger at Jack and then pointed at Fletcher and Garcia. “These men are my family. They were the ones who kept me safe and fought alongside me when you and the rest of your glorious feds turned your backs on me.” She faced Fletcher. “This man,” she continued, pointing at Jack, “has a great strategic mind. He and Agent Gonzales have been working this case with me since the beginning and will continue to do so until it’s over.”

  “What compound? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Sin once again faced Jack. “Were we able to get a rendering of Joel?”

  Gonzales stepped forward and handed Sin a file. “There are two pictures in there. The first is how the Stoklers remembered him the last time they saw him; he would have been twenty-one or two. The second picture is how Moe, the FBI’s artist, thinks he would look now.”

  Sin opened the file and stared at both. “I’ll be damned,” she mumbled.

  “Whatcha see, Boss Lady?” Garcia asked.

  “We don’t have time to get into it right now, but there is quite a family resemblance to Vincent Ash here.” She looked at the men who were gathered. “We will talk about it later. For now, memorize the facial features. If you see this man or anyone who looks like him proceed with the greatest of caution. There is a good chance he is the Painted Beauty Killer.”

  Sin pulled a thumb drive out of her pocket that was given to her by Duggen and plugged it into the laptop. She opened the file and pulled up aerial satellite photos of Water’s Edge Academy. “This is what we are up against tonight.” She looked to Duggen’s men and gave them a slight nod. “You both know the layout better than I do. Why don’t you take the lead?”

  She watched Metcalf and King come to life. Metcalf didn’t hesitate to take point. “The building outlined in yellow is the one where there has been a great deal of activity; the one we believe is being used as a warehouse for both cocaine and money. The red ‘X’s’ are the points where the taskforce plans on accessing the property.”

  “What’s the area by the water?” Fletcher pointed to a green section.

  “That’s a makeshift dock that just began construction. They are using large sea floats and a wooden platform; in other words, it’s temporary. At the pace it’s going, we believe it could be functional by tomorrow. That’s the reason we’re moving tonight.”

  Sin interjected, “The sudden construction is also the reason Agent Duggen and I feel Captain Rand and his men were probably captured.”

  “They’re abandoning ship,” Fletcher said.

  Sin nodded. “It looks like it.”

  “With all this information,” Jack said, “why don’t we just join the taskforce on their raid?”

  “Because there’s a good possibility that Rand and his men gave up any and all information they had. If that’s true, the taskforce will be facing an ambush. The five of us are going to secure the scene and eliminate any greeting party before the team initiates their mission at zero-two-thirty.”

  “What about me and Gonzales?”

  Sin didn’t look up from the monitor. “You two will be the conduit between our group and Duggen’s team.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning,” Sin looked him in the eye, “you’ll be in a truck monitoring radio contact. Neither of you will engage.”

  Jack slammed his hand on the table. “That’s bullshit!”

  “That,” Sin yelled back, “is an order!”

  “Wait,” Garcia said, ignoring the yelling and staring at the satellite pictures, “what is this little building over here?” He was pointing to a small building behind the main school.

  “That building wasn’t part of the taskforce’s briefing,” King said.

  “From what the Stoklers told us, I think this is the building that was leased out to the school of mortuary science—possibly our killer’s home.

  “It’s a secondary target that has nothing to do with the raid.”

  She closed the laptop and started to walk out of the room.

  “Sin, I’m serious. This is bullshit,” Jack protested. “You need us on this.”

  Stopping short, she waved the others on. “Go get ready, Jack and I will be right behind you.”

  As the door closed, she stared up at Jack and attempted to offer a gaze that bore a hole through him.

  “Sin,” Jack seemed to be breathing heavy from frustration, but tried to keep his voice calm, “you need me on this,” he said. “I want to go in with you.”

  Sin leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You have a family. I’m not putting you in harm’s way without good reason.”

  Jack grabbed her hand. “What you’re planning goes against protocol. This isn’t the agent you want to be.”

  Sin pointed at herself. “This is who I am. This is the agent Frank asked to come back. You need to trust me on this one.”

  Turning away, she heard Jack mumble, “Who are you?”

  Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, “La Perla Ángel de la Muerte.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Sin and her team knew a frontal attack wasn’t an option. They also knew that the taskforce was planning on entering by way of the south side of the campus by the elementary school near the construction entrance. That left her with only one choice for gaining entry. The water.

  “What is it with you,” Garcia complained. “Every time we get together, I get wet.”

  “You must be t
he only Cuban I know who doesn’t like the ocean,” Fletcher laughed.

  Garcia looked up at him with a puzzled expression. “How many Cubans do you know?”

  “Just one.” Fletcher eyed Sin and smirked. “One and a half, actually.”

  Sin rolled her eyes and shook her head. “We don’t have a lot of time to finalize this plan, so listen up.”

  She was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Sorry to bother you, but the equipment you asked for arrived,” Evelyn said.

  “Everything?” Sin asked.

  “I believe so.”

  “Thank you. Have Gonzales check the supplies and bring the dry bags in here. We’ll check our dive gear before we have him load everything into the back of Fletcher’s jeep.”

  “Consider it done,” Evelyn said.

  “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

  “Just say it.”

  Sin handed Evelyn the composite drawing of Joel as well as the list of names she had plugged into the computer earlier that evening. “Beg borrow or steal,” she said, “but I need you to find someone with beyond top secret clearance to run these photos and every combination of these names and see if anything shows up in the military data bases.”

  “Looks like we’re all in for a long night,” Evelyn said, reaching the documents.

  It was one a.m. when Sin and her team crossed the bridge onto Key Biscayne and drove onto Crandon Boulevard. Two miles down the road, they saw the old elementary school.

  “We just passed our target,” Sin said, “keep driving until you pass the construction site on your right.”

  “Passed our target? I didn’t even see it,” Garcia called out from the back seat.

  “Water’s Edge Academy sits way back off the road behind that six foot stone wall we just drove past. Once we pass the elementary school and construction entrance,” she nudged Fletcher who was driving, “I want you to kill your lights and park down by the entrance to Bill Baggs Park.”

  Fletch kept driving at normal speed until he passed by the school. He barely slowed down when he killed the lights and drove the jeep off the road onto a dirt path. He stopped fast, barely missing the chain that blocked any further movement.

  Garcia jumped out of the back, picked the lock, and moved the chain to the side. Fletch drove through, allowing Garcia to reset the chain and padlock. Moving ahead at idle speed through the wooded area, the tight path began to open up.

  “Stop here,” Sin said. “The beach is right in front of us. I checked the tides and currents before we left HQ and they should be in our favor; low tide and a fast moving northerly current.”

  The five of them unloaded their dry bags and placed their weapons and radios inside. “With the current moving as fast as it is, SCUBA gear will only slow us down,” Sin said looking out at the moon-lit water. “Masks, fins, secondary air supplies, and weight belts only—no tanks or buoyancy compensators.”

  No one questioned Sin’s orders. They just did as they were told.

  “We’ll enter the water here and swim out about one hundred feet. You’ll know when you hit your mark because the current will start to pull you north and toward land. Everyone stay at a depth of at least twenty feet. We can’t risk anyone seeing or hearing us kick or paddle. The makeshift pier will come up fast, so brace yourselves for impact. I’ll take the lead. When I hit the twenty foot descent, I’ll signal you with the luminescence of my dive watch. Stay on my heels. We surface under the pier, ditch our dive gear, and make our move.” Remembering Frank’s words, she added, “This is not a kill mission . . . unless it needs to be.”

  Sin checked her watch and sent Jack a text letting him know it was on.

  “Gear up, let’s move.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Sin’s plan was on point, and her team surfaced under the pier between the large floats. She removed her mask, squeezed her nostrils shut and blew, popping her ears. Fletcher and Garcia followed suit along with Metcalf and King. They held onto the floats, remaining perfectly still. Voices and footsteps were heard above from the makeshift dock.

  Fletcher used his feet under the surface to tap out the number two on Sin’s leg, letting her know there were two combatants. In turn, she passed on the information to the others.

  They listened to the sound of the footfalls and judging by the sound, the larger man was near the shore. The smaller man was almost directly above them. As the voices continued it was clear that the issue wasn’t going to take care of itself; the men didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon.

  Sin signaled Fletcher, Metcalf and King to sink down and swim toward the location of the man closest to shore. She and Garcia would handle the other.

  She pointed to Garcia and then pointed up. Through the slats between the boards they could just make out the smuggler’s position.

  The sound of the enemies’ feet stopped, letting her team know it was time for their next move. She and Garcia reached up and placed their fingertips on the deck. Pouncing from the water, they each grabbed an ankle of the armed gunman above, pulling him into the water. Garcia quickly dislodged the man’s gun from his hand while dropping back into the ocean. Sin let go of the man’s ankle and covered his mouth while Garcia zip-tied his wrists.

  Sin continued to hold the target’s head underwater, until Garcia tugged on her arm signaling her to surface. As soon as she did, he struck the man on the temple with his secondary air supply, knocking him cold. They quickly dragged the man to shore, where they secured his feet and gagged him with duct tape.

  Sin’s attention moved to where Fletcher and the others had been. Seconds later, her team surfaced dragging an unconscious body.

  “Restrain and gag,” Sin ordered. She checked her watch. They had thirty minutes before Duggen would begin stage two of the mission. She wanted to make sure any ambushes were neutralized before his team breached the property.

  Once on shore, they removed their dry bags and wet suits. From the dry bags, they took out weapons and radios. Using code, she let Jack and Gonzales know they had safely made landfall.

  It had been arranged beforehand who would go where, so with a cursory look between them, they each ran in different directions. Garcia, the sniper, along with King were headed for the highest ground—the roof of the main building. Fletcher and Metcalf were headed for the construction entrance to help clear a path for the taskforce.

  Sin had other plans.

  CHAPTER 42

  Garcia and King made it to the administration building, broke in through the back door, and climbed the five flights of stairs in no time. They opened the roof access and made their way to preordained positions. Staying low, they opened their dry bag and removed the pieces of their M40A5 sniper rifles. In a matter of seconds, the rifles were assembled including suppressors at the end of the twenty-four-inch barrels. They assumed the prone position, facing their target and placed their headsets on to open a line of communication.

  Garcia peered through the night vision sight on his rifle and whispered into his headset.

  “We have you in sight, Fletch. There are two bogies fifty feet ahead at your ten o’clock. Duggen, you have a welcoming party of nine hostiles thirty feet inside the gate and another four hiding next to the wall separating our location from the elementary school.”

  “Ten-four,” Duggen replied.

  Sin listened to the updates. “You’re in charge, Bill, How would you like us to proceed?”

  “Garcia and King, you’re my eyes. What’s the best play?” Duggen answered.

  “We’ll take out the two that are in front of Fletcher and Metcalf. That will allow them to maneuver toward the construction gate unobstructed.”

  “We don’t have a good angle on the four men by the wall,” Metcalf said.

  “We’ll handle them and let you deal with the bogies by the gate,” Garcia answered.

  “Copy and affirmed,” Duggen said. “Unless you see another way, drop them where they stand.”

  “There isn’t much of an alte
rnative,” King said. “If we shoot to wound, there will be a whole lot of screaming.”

  “Everyone will hear the shots either way,” Sin radioed.

  “As soon as you get the all clear from me, attack fast and hard,” Garcia told Duggen. “We’ll take out anyone stupid enough to join the fight. The school house is all yours.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Forty seconds, Fletch,” Garcia radioed.

  Garcia relaxed his body, and slowed his heart rate as he peered through his sight. He increased pressure on the trigger until it was just at the point of firing.

  Focused, Garcia made one more transmission to Fletcher. “Count it down from ten.”

  At zero, Garcia exhaled and squeezed the trigger. He heard King’s gun fire at the same time. He saw their men fall in the periphery of his sight as he readjusted his position. He and King then took aim at the men by the wall. The four men didn’t have time to react before they were dropped to the ground.

  Fletcher’s trust in Garcia was so strong that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the two men in front of him would be exterminated as he made his move. He sprang from his hiding place with Metcalf covering his back as he counted down to zero. He stayed low and hugged the perimeter of the dirt road as he made his way toward the gate.

  He moved fast, not worried about making noise. Metcalf would take care of anyone approaching.

  As soon as the enemy was in sight, he hit the dirt leveling his Sig Sauer P266 .40 mm semiautomatic pistol at the greenish images and aimed at the men closest to him. Screams could be heard back by the wall causing his targets to scatter. With Metcalf’s help and Duggen’s men charging through the gate, all nine were soon accounted for.

  Gunfire erupted from the windows of the main building as Fletcher and Metcalf restrained the wounded targets and Duggen’s team picked their way toward the school.

  “We can use a little help here,” Duggen yelled, ducking behind a tree as bullets continued to fly.