by S A Monk
“What are mules?”
“Couriers— people who pick up and deliver drugs to the dealers.”
“So, we are talking about a drug smuggling operation going on here.”
“It looks like it, but I’ll know for sure by this time tomorrow.”
“How?”
“Yancy received a call from someone telling him that he should expect a big shipment tonight at midnight.”
“Tonight? Where?”
“The lower end of the bay. It sounded to me as if he was referring to the eastern side, somewhere between Discovery Cove and Gardiner’s Corner.”
“Do you think they’re talking about dropping whatever they’re delivering into the crab pots along the coastline there?”
“That’s what I’m betting on,” Nick confirmed. “We may have a big opportunity to find out what’s really going on.”
“So, what you’ve uncovered so far with your bugs is that Yancy Masters and Sheriff Jeff Thomas are running some kind of illegal smuggling operation, probably drugs.”
Nick nodded. “Tonight, if we set this up right, we might find out exactly what they’re smuggling, where it’s coming from, and where it’s going.”
CHAPTER 14
NICK AND HANNA had the Zodiac anchored on the south side of a finger of land that jutted into Discovery Bay, off Miller Peninsula, a mile below Gardiner’s Corner. Sheltered from the view of any boat coming into the bay from the Strait of San Juan de Fuca to the north, they waited for their target, prepared for the possibility that there might be more than one boat.
Kurt Palmer was several miles above them, standing on the catwalk of a local lighthouse on Vancouver Point. Sixty-three feet up in the air, he was scanning the Strait of Juan de Fuca with a pair of high-powered, infra-red binoculars, looking for the freighter and the speed boats that would be delivering the contraband. Once spotted, he’d alert Nick on his SAT phone.
Earlier in the day, the two men had decided that they were probably going to be witnessing a drug drop. While Kurt was watching for the freighter, Nick was preparing to dive down to the bottom of the bay to observe the drop and grab a sample. But first, he and Hanna had to spot the mules in their boats, and then overtly follow them to the drop point. Challenging, but not impossible with the way they were equipped.
They were both dressed in long-sleeved black wet suits, and nothing on their Zodiac projected any light or reflected it. Nick felt assured that they were as invisible as they could get. There was just one more thing to do.
“Time to become invisible, Doctor.”
Hanna crawled over to him and sat back on her haunches. Nick dipped two fingers into the jar of grease paint. She watched him warily. “This stuff will come off, right?”
He grinned, revealing nothing but a straight row of pearly white teeth. He had just finished painting his own face. “After a few good scrubbings.”
Grumbling, she presented her face. When he was done, he pulled a black knit cap over the bright halo of her hair, tucking all stray tendrils beneath it.
“I can’t do anything about your glasses, but since they’re black rimmed, I doubt they’ll show. I hate to have you take them off. You’re so blind without them, and we can’t afford you losing your contacts.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. He’d been teasing her about being blind without her glasses for as long as she could recall. “One of these days I’m going to have laser surgery to correct my vision. Then, I’ll never have to wear these ugly glasses again, or worry about losing my contacts.”
“Your glasses aren’t ugly. They’ve always looked cute on you.”
“Yeah, right!” She rolled her eyes, knowing he could at least see that expression on her blackened features. “I don’t know why I’m such a chicken about eye surgery, but I am. I ought to feel more comfortable about it, being a doctor and all. I guess I’m afraid that if something went wrong, I could never operate again.”
“You don’t need the surgery. I like you in your glasses. They’re part of your charm.”
“Oh boy, if that isn’t laying it on thick, Colonel!”
Nick frowned, disturbed by her comment. “Why do you think I’m putting you on when I tell you how pretty you are, Hanna?”
“Because I look in the mirror every day.” She wished they weren’t having this conversation, even though she had started it, more or less. “I know that I am a plain woman. Like I’ve said― just ordinary looking. Brains, not beauty.”
“Bullshit, Doctor Wallace! You’re smart and beautiful. What do you know anyway? Let a man be the judge of your appeal.”
“Oh, and I have so many of them knocking on my door.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re too blind to see them. I don’t want them knocking on your door.”
That stopped her in her tracks. Surprised by his vehemence, as well as his words, she could only stare silently at him. Despite how it had sounded, she really hadn’t been fishing for compliments. His insistence that she was pretty, even beautiful, was something she hoped he wasn’t lying about.
Dark water lapped against the black rubber sides of the Zodiac. It was late. There was no activity on shore. In the distance, the lights inside the sprinkling of houses along the coastline had gone out hours ago. The bay was calm tonight; with very little wave activity. The only thing that could be heard was the occasional call of a night bird or the jumping of a fish in the black water. And, interestingly enough, there was no moon out. More than likely, the smugglers had chosen such nights to deliver their shameful goods.
Silence reigned until Nick spoke into the tiny microphone that curved in front of his mouth. Hanna knew Kurt was on the other end of his SAT phone. When Nick was finished, he took the headset off and handed it to her.
“Kurt spotted the freighter. There are a couple of speedboats coming our way,” he informed her. “Put the headset on, and if Kurt calls or you have to contact him, respond in a whisper only. He’ll be able to hear you.”
Fifteen minutes later, two medium sized speedboats zoomed past, a hundred feet beyond them in the bay. They were indeed headed toward Discovery Junction at the lower end. Nick started the Zodiac engine, which was whisper quiet, and followed them, staying close to the coastline of Miller Peninsula in order to remain as hidden as possible.
Interestingly enough, the speedboats were running with a low beam lights on. It made it easier to follow them. Nick kept a safe distance between them and the smugglers.
Once he motored past Mynard Marina where Hanna’s sailboat was docked, he steered the Zodiac slowly across the bay, into a tiny cove almost directly across from where the smugglers were stopping.
The two speedboats cut their lights and their engines a hundred feet off the tip of Discovery Junction’s sandy spit. Nick hurriedly strapped on his diving fins and his special oxygen tank.
“Time to dive,” he whispered. “If you run into any problems, call Kurt. Stay put, stay low, and stay quiet.” He had already given her instructions about the photographs he wanted taken. Easing into a squat, he planted a kiss on her lips. One big gloved hand cupped the side of her stocking-capped head. “The photos aren’t so important that I want you putting yourself at risk for them. Remember that.”
She caught his hand and squeezed it. “Be careful down there.”
“They won’t see me.” He sent her a white-toothed grin, then rolled over the side of the Zodiac and slipped silently into the inky water.
Hanna watched him dive, then he was gone. There were no bubbles to give away his path. But she knew where he was going and followed visually. A quarter of a mile separated them from the two speedboats. Hanna couldn’t make them out clearly without using the camera Nick had given her, so she moved to the edge of the Zodiac and lifted the long telephoto lens to rest on the high rim. Looking through the infrared lens, she aimed the camera at the spot where the speedboats had stopped. She focused for a moment on the orange buoys that marked the location of the crab pots in the cove. There were ten of th
em clustered in a large circle.
Since Nick had asked her specifically to get pictures of the serial numbers on the boats and of the men inside them, she turned her lens to the boats. There was activity on both so she moved back and forth between the two.
Capturing as much as she could, she took photo after photo. She saw one man lean over the side of his boat and pull up the chain that connected a pot to its marker buoy. A crab was tossed aside. The second man handed him a canister, like the ones she and Nick had found. The first man then put it inside the cage he had pulled up. The process was repeated on each boat— one canister for each pot, until all the crab cages were filled. The men on board worked very quickly and deliberately. None of them ever went into the water, thank God, since that was where Nick was conducting his surveillance.
While she snapped her photos, Hanna did a quick mental tabulation of the number of cylinders being put into the traps. Once she saw that they had inserted ten cylinders into ten cages, she knew their task was probably finished. She wondered if Nick was going to bring one up for inspection. She was anxious to see exactly what these men were delivering.
Twenty minutes later, the two unlit speedboats restarted their engines and headed out of the bay, this time running dark until they were well beyond the sand spit at the Junction. Nick surfaced just as they turned their running lights on. He came up so close to the Zodiac, Hanna thought he must have sonar radar imbedded somewhere inside of him. It was pitch black out, and yet he’d managed to find his way back without a hitch apparently. Elated with his safe return, she reached down to assist him into the boat.
He immediately sank back on his heels and pulled two canisters out of his belt. Then he pulled off his headgear and mask, and unstrapped his air tank. “Let’s take a peek, shall we?”
After unscrewing the lid, he pulled a long, zip-locked, plastic bag out of the fishing rod tube. Opening the bag, he sniffed it, then put one of the tiny white crystal flakes on his tongue. “China White— Heroin 4. The most powerful form of the stuff. Just as I suspected.”
Hanna stared at the water tight bag full of white flakes. Even in the darkness, they seemed to sparkle, radiating their own ethereal light. So beautiful and so evil. She shuddered.
“I counted ten cylinders being delivered.”
Nick wasn’t surprised. “Once this stuff is cut and diluted, it could be worth millions of dollars on the streets.”
Hanna was shocked at the amount of money. “Yancy doesn’t seem like that big of a crook.”
Nick laughed. “There’s so much money in drugs, Hanna, little crooks become big ones fast. I don’t know what his cut on these shipments are, but he makes enough to have lots of expensive things in his life.”
“Where is he getting it from?”
“That’s what we find out next.” Nick put the bags back into the tubes and resealed them. “We need to get ready for the pickup. The mules should be along real soon.”
“How do you know that?”
“No one would leave millions of dollars’ worth of heroin sitting here long.”
Nick took the headset from Hanna and called Kurt. When he was finished speaking to the FBI agent, he told Hanna that the freighter and delivery boats had departed toward Vancouver Island.
“So that might be where the drugs are coming from?”
“Possibly. Kurt’s going to look more closely at the freighter,”
Nick settled in next to Hanna on the floor of the Zodiac, giving her the camera again while he took a pair of night vision binoculars for himself from his duffle bag.
“I hear marine motors,” Hanna whispered.
“Okay, just use hand signals until they leave.”
Nick had taught Hanna a few of the basic hand signals he used for silent communication in the field with his teams. She nodded and positioned her camera as they both saw three boats arrive wakeless and nearly soundless out near the Junction sand spit. All of the boats were running without lights. Two were sleek little speed boats, and one was a small cabin cruiser. Through the infrared lens of her camera, Hanna saw two men onboard the cabin cruiser. One pulled a trap up, and one retrieved the contents.
Hanna remembered the general description Nat Simms had given her of the cabin cruiser Dylan had intercepted. This one looked very similar. She snapped several photos, zooming in and catching the serial number on the hull.
Then she got several photos of the two men leaning over the side of the boat. As she did so, she wondered if she was looking at one or both of her brother’s murderers. Had he seen something he shouldn’t have when he stopped that boat? Had he been killed for it? It was a chilling supposition. But it also sent a hot surge of anger through her.
After taking several shots of the other two boats, Hanna sat back on her heels. When all three boats were finished with their task, they moved toward one another and headed north, out of the bay.
With a silent signal, Nick motioned Hanna to secure a seat. He then moved to the cockpit of the Zodiac and started the motor. Maintaining a safe distance, he followed the boats through the center of the bay. The boats ahead of them had finally turned on their running lights, but Nick drove dark.
At the mouth of Discovery Bay, the three boats veered toward the northeastern end of Shelter Island where Yancy Masters’ house stood atop a forested bluff.
The smugglers pulled up to a short unlit dock below the bluff. Hanna and Nick had not seen this side of the island the last time they had come out. Nick hung back far enough not to be seen, but close enough to watch a group of men run down the wooden steps from the house to meet the boats. Hanna retrieved her high tech camera, zoomed in again, and shot a series of pictures that documented the unloading of the boats.
Once everyone had retreated to the house, Nick started the Zodiac and headed home. After docking the Zodiac and locking up their equipment, they climbed the hill to the McHenry house. Hanna had the camera slung over her shoulder and Nick carried the two containers of China white he’d taken out of the crab cages as they silently and tiredly followed the path through the high grasses.
Illuminating the dial on her wristwatch told Hanna that it was two a.m. It had been a long night, but well worth it. On the back porch, Nick took his cell phone off his belt and called Kurt to tell him to shut it down for the night.
The FBI agent had already done that. He and his wife were spending the night in a Bed and Breakfast near the lighthouse on Vancouver Point, and he was just getting into bed when Nick called. The men arranged to meet at Kurt’s office in Seattle the following day, in order to review the digital photographs Hanna had taken and meet with a couple of DEA agents. In the background, Nick heard Kurt’s wife remind her husband to invite them to dinner afterward.
Hanna found it interesting that Nick hadn’t told Kurt about the tubes of heroin he’d pilfered.
She was just about to ask him about it when he said instead, “Shall we sail your Emerald Mermaid to Seattle tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.”
“Want to stay overnight at Kurt and Trisha’s? They asked. I said I’d check with you.”
“We don’t have to bother them. If we get there early enough, I think we can rent a slip overnight at the public marina near where they live.”
Nick opened the porch door for Hanna.
“Want to come in for some coffee?” she asked as he rubbed a tired hand over his face.
“No, not tonight. I’m beat, and you look like you’re ready for bed as well. Get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”
She trailed a fingertip along his cheek, making a streak through his greasepaint. “Come over for breakfast in the morning, and then we’ll take the Zodiac across the bay to my boat.”
Nick nodded and gave her hand a squeeze. “Thanks for all the help tonight. See you in the morning around eight.”
Hanna glanced at her watch one more time and groaned. “Goodnight, Nick. Sleep well.”
He waited on the steps until she went inside and turned on the ligh
t. Sleep well, huh? Not likely, even though he was tired. He’d been home two weeks, and being with the lovely doctor everyday had simply sharpened his desire for her. While he treasured her friendship, he wanted more. He wanted her in his arms, in his bed. The need to make love to her was getting voracious. Even tonight, tired as he was, it had been hard to leave her.
By the time he reached his own bedroom, though, he was happily indulging in fantasies of tomorrow’s overnight trip to Seattle, deciding it just might end up being a hell of an opportunity. Pleasant visions of sharing the close accommodations of her sloop, including that big odd-shaped bed under the foredeck, teased his thoughts as he drifted to sleep.
CHAPTER 15
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, KURT PALMER introduced Hanna and Nick to the two DEA agents who had agreed to quietly assist with the investigation. Web Montel was the older of the two, in his mid-forties. He had long, unruly, brown hair, and was dressed like a biker— tattoos, black leather, and chains. Seth Haru was a younger man with a Japanese ancestry. He had long black hair pulled into a slim ponytail, and he was wearing expensive designer slacks and a black silk shirt.
The two agents were complete opposites in appearance, but they had been partners for over ten years, and between them, they held a vast array of knowledge about the drug activity in the Pacific Northwest. The Chinese Triad was one of their areas of expertise, and Seth Haru was working undercover with a gang in Vancouver, Canada.
Hanna couldn’t imagine a more dangerous job than working undercover in such a violent organization. Except Nick’s. She knew he had worked in South America and other hot spots around the world where illegal drugs were produced and transported. It was probably a miracle he had survived special operations for twenty years. Either her prayers had been particularly effective, or God had placed a particularly strong guardian angel on his broad shoulders.
