by Scott Cook
“What’s your plan now?” I asked.
Audrey’s wide blue eyes seemed to jump a little, looking left and right wildly, “I’m getting out of here, and you can’t stop me.”
“I won’t even try,” I said, “Drop the detonator and no one will stop you from leaving, I swear it.”
“Scott!” McClay exclaimed.
“She’s got us over a barrel, Joe,” I said, “let her go.”
Audrey nodded, “Let’s go. Everyone out onto the lounge deck. Nice and easy does it. Brody, you get that tender ready and lowered over the side. No tricks or I turn this ship into a fireball. Understand!”
This last was shouted and it got everyone moving. Al-Rajid, Brody and then McClay filed out into the sky lounge and onto the upper after deck. Audrey glared at me as she backed out the door, “Let’s go, asshole.”
“Wait,” I said, “Juan’s hit.”
She looked like she was going to say something but hesitated. For the briefest instant, so brief that I still don’t know if I imagined it, a look of concern crossed her face. She hadn’t meant to shoot anyone but me, but in her rage, fear and who knows what else, she’d emptied her magazine in my general direction and hit the three of us.
I bent down, tearing my shirt off and balling it up. I pressed it to Juan’s chest, “Just lie still, pal. I think you’ll be okay. Just hold this tight and we’ll get you fixed up.”
“Scott,” Juan whispered, using my first name for the first time I could remember.
I bent closer, noticing that the table was partially blocking my view of Audrey.
“Underneath…” Juan said in obvious pain, “I got… got your gun from your room. Get her, hermano… get that puta…”
I reached beneath Juan’s belt and gingerly slid the big Colt 1911 from his waistband. I held it at my left side and stood up again.
“Okay, now move!” Audrey growled, jerking her head toward the door.
I cast one last look at the body of Schumer and moved slowly to follow, keeping the same distance between us. Audrey nodded as she backed through the door, hauling Ariel with her. To her credit, the Israeli woman didn’t’ struggle. She was biding her time and I had to give it to her.
Audrey turned sideways so she could watch everyone. I took that moment to raise my weapon and wrack the slide. Audrey turned back to look in my direction and her eyes went wide when she saw the gun I pointed at her.
“Don’t think about it,” She warned, “Aside from hitting your little bitch here, I can still detonate the bomb.”
I held the gun in my left hand, as my right arm was starting to go numb, “No matter what happens, Audrey… you die.”
“Throw it away,” She commanded.
“Fuck you,” I stated.
The blonde squeezed her arm and Ariel’s face took on a shade of red but the intelligence agent didn’t gag. I shook my head.
“I mean it,” Audrey snapped, holding up the remote.
“The hell you do,” I countered, stepping forward as she sidled aft, “I meant what I said, Audrey. I’ll let you go. But before you get into that boat, you’re going to toss that remote over the side. Once you do, I’ll toss this gun. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it or I take my chances.”
She scoffed, “Take a chance on hitting her?”
I only glowered, “If I have to. Ariel knows the deal. And I doubt that even that much C4 will destroy this vessel. Or at least kill us right off. So as I see it, you’ve got one choice. You take my offer or I pull the trigger right now.”
She eyed me for a long moment, then looked back out the open slider at the after deck. Al-Rajid, McClay and Brody were all there. They were listening to me, thankfully. I could see Brody operating the crane and the big rigid inflatable swinging out over the port side.
“Let’s go,” Audrey said finally.
We went out on deck and I was met by another surprise. Maybe a hundred yards astern was a small Coast Guard vessel. An eighty-six. A medium range patrol craft that could stay at sea for a couple of weeks.
“What the fuck!” Audrey hollered.
“I don’t always miss the big picture,” I told her, “I had a feeling something might happen, so I arranged a little insurance policy. Now toss that remote over the side while you still can.”
“I knew you were a liar,” Audrey said heatedly.
“Nope,” I said, “I’ve never lied to you, Audrey. You toss that remote and you can take the RIB. If you can get away, then good on you. I’d rather allow that than to have you hurt anybody else.”
“Scott, for Christ’s sake!” McClay barked.
“I mean it,” I said, “don’t interfere, Joe.”
Audrey eyed me for a long moment. Then she gazed quickly out at the slowly approaching patrol boat. Then back at me.
“That ship can’t do more than ten or fifteen knots,” I said, “That RIB has a three hundred mile range at thirty knots. You figure it out.”
“Fine,” Audrey said, “Down the stairs. Move!”
I hurried down the exterior access stairs and opened the entry port on the main deck. There was an extendable ladder there and I let it fall to where the RIB floated, still attached to the hoist.
“I need an insurance policy, too,” Audrey stated with a hateful smile at me, “I’m taking your girlfriend with me.”
“No deal,” I said, pointing my pistol, “you let her go, toss the remote and take off.”
“Or I blow it now,” Audrey said, “We do it my way, Jarvis. Throw the gun overboard.”
I didn’t move.
“Scott…” Ariel implored, “Do as she says. It’ll be all right.”
Our eyes locked. There was no fear in her eyes. Only grim determination. She was asking for her shot. I had to give it to her.
I pitched the pistol out into the steadily roughening sea. It made a pitiful splash and was gone from sight. It seemed to take my slim hope with it.
“Good boy,” Audrey said and shoved Ariel toward the railing, “You go down and get the engine started.”
“Attention on the research vessel!” Came an enhanced male voice over the PA. I recognized it as that of Mike Rivers. I tried not to show my surprise, “Do not try to run. Stand down immediately!”
Audrey stepped forward, switched the remote to her right hand and wrapped her left around my back, squeezing and bringing tears to my eyes with the sudden lances of agony. She kissed me on the lips and then smiled as she stepped back, seeming to relish my discomfort.
And no, I couldn’t have grabbed the remote. Even if she hadn’t held it behind her back, she’d flipped open the arming cover.
“Don’t worry, Jarvis,” She said, “Your little whore and I will have a nice long girl chat about you. Compare notes, maybe.”
She slid down the ladder and gave me one last look.
“The detonator?” I asked.
Ariel unhooked the boat from the crane and it began to drift off. Audrey put it in gear and eased forward and away from the side. When she was maybe a hundred feet away, she turned and smiled brilliantly at me, “You mean this detonator?”
My heart leapt into my throat. She was going to do it…
“No!” I shouted impotently.
The sound of the explosion was deafening. A brilliant flash, a roar that seemed to fill the universe… and then blackness.
Epilogue
“Scotty… come on, open up…”
A voice?
I swam up through billowy veils of darkness toward the distant sound of someone’s voice and the distant light that seemed to accompany it. It was like clawing through pudding. It seemed to take a long time, but finally…
“Hey,” Came the concerned voice of Mike Rivers, “You alive, buddy?”
“Wha…” I mumbled brilliantly.
“He’ll come out of it soon,” Another man said, “Just the dope talking for now.”
“Where…?” I managed.
“You’re in sickbay,” The new man said, patting me on th
e shoulder, “or what passes for it on this tub.”
I opened my eyes and blinked. It seemed like I’d played this scene not long before. I was in a small room, crammed with people and the sound of equipment. The room was too bright and smelled faintly of chemicals.
“You’re on the Sydney Porter,” The new man said. He was a short wiry guy with gold rimmed cheaters perched crookedly on a large nose, “I’m petty officer Branch. Corpsman.”
“You took a good knock on the noggin, Scotty,” Mike said, leaning over me and grinning, “Glad to see it didn’t knock the pea loose from its foundations.”
“Everybody’s a wise ass,” I croaked, gazing around in bewilderment, “Why am I not dead? Didn’t the Ballard…?”
Mike’s face clouded over and he looked off to his right. Aside from him, I saw Charles Conklin and Gregorio Santino leaning against the wall. They both smiled but had concerned looks on their faces.
“No,” Mike said softly, “it was the RIB that exploded…”
“But…” I protested, the full implications of that statement not quite sinking in, “But the bomb was in the engine room…”
Mike sighed, “This might take a little explaining, Scotty. But no, it wasn’t. The inflatable exploded and… and there were no survivors.”
I looked at him stupidly for a moment. My vision was a bit blurry but his concern was evident. Then the realization struck. I drew in a shuddering breath, “Ariel…”
“She sacrificed herself,” Santino said quietly, “She… she explained it all in a letter. I’m sorry, Scott.”
“She was a brave woman,” Conklin added.
“Oh… Christ…” I said, my heart aching at the loss. I hadn’t known her long, but she’d made a deep impression on me.
“There’s time later for details,” Mike said, “But Branch here wanted to make sure you came out of it and I thought you might have questions.”
“McClay?” I asked, “Al-Rajid? Brody? And what about Juan? He was hit…”
“The young guy is right here,” Branch said, indicating a bed next to mine. I looked over and saw Juan Fuente lying still, a tube in his nose and a heart monitor beeping steadily.
“I think he’ll make it,” Branch anticipated my next question, “I’ve got him stabilized.”
“The rest are all right,” Mike replied, “The shockwave knocked them around a little, but you were thrown back into the bulkhead and knocked out.”
“How long?” I asked.
“Six hours,” Branch replied.
I glanced at Mike with a question in my eyes. He nodded slightly, “It’s being handled. We’re headed into Tampa Bay. Branch wants you in a hospital.”
“Aside from a potential concussion,” Branch explained, “That bullet tore a good gash in your side and broke a rib. No permanent damage, though. But I’d still like to have you checked out thoroughly.”
“Mike…” I began, cutting my eyes to Branch and then my two other compatriots.
“I know,” Mike said, “Don’t worry. Just rest now.”
“We’ll talk later,” Santino said, “Get some rest for now.”
I wanted to ask more questions but I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. The darkness encroached again, but this time not so suddenly or so coldly.
“So she found the bomb?” Sharon asked as she got comfortable in one of my new client chairs.
I sat behind the outer office desk and nodded. It had been three days since the explosion and I was still sorting the details. I held Ariel’s note in my hands, referring to it when I needed to.
On the sofa sat Santino, Conklin and Clay. They waited expectantly.
“Early that morning,” I said, “When I told her about my suspicions regarding Hank, Ariel put her counter-surveillance gear to work and detected a stray electronic signal. She tracked it down and found the C4 in the engine room. She was able to disarm the booby trap bomb and placed it in the tender just in case.”
“That’s some forethought,” Clay observed.
“I don’t think she planned on… on what happened,” I said, “It just worked out that way.”
“When did you suspect the old man?” Sharon asked.
I leaned back and sighed, absently smoothing the letter out on the desk top, “We were talking on the morning before we drove to Sarasota. He was telling me about the raft. He was talking about how Ernst Schumer had come after him with a knife and how it was probably out of fear. Hank said that Schumer was just an eighteen year old kid or something to that effect. The problem was that Schumer was sixteen. I think that Lambert was absent mindedly referring to the real Hank when he said that… remembering his own sixteen year old point of view. That coupled with the detail of the German submarine…”
“Not to mention the hit men,” Santino said.
“Right,” I offered, “Somebody had to hire them. And when it didn’t look like it was Brody’s team… There were a lot of puzzle pieces that didn’t fit until you turned them just right.”
“Jesus…” Sharon breathed, “So who shot Bin-Kazar in here?”
I shrugged, “No idea. But I suspect Audrey had a fifth person working for her. Or maybe it was her. I suppose she could’ve driven up here, done the deed and driven back in the early morning. But it was all her. And she knew the first rule of assassination.”
“Always assassinate the assassin,” Santino interjected, “So he couldn’t talk and give her away.”
I nodded, ”A cleverly contrived plan to throw me off the scent and point the finger at Brody’s people.”
“And she even killed your dog,” Conklin said sourly, “What a crazy bitch.”
I harrumphed, “You don’t know the half of it. I’m just glad you guys came to my rescue when you did.”
Santino grinned, “Charles and I thought that we ought to do something with those coordinates you gave me. So he got in touch with Commander Rivers and explained what was going on.”
“Mike flew up here and convinced the Coast Guard station in Saint Pete to send out their eighty-six,” Conklin explained, “He felt he should be there.”
“Well,” Santino said, rising, “I’ve got a plane to catch.”
“Good to see you again, Gregorio,” I said, standing and hugging him, “Let’s do it again under better circumstances. Give Angela my love.”
Conklin and Clay stood as well. Charles shook my hand, “Good to work with you again.”
“Glad we were on the same side this time,” I said with a wry grin.
“Oh, you know Charlie here,” Clay offered, “Shifty as the tidal sands. I’m off, too. Some of us gotta work for a living.”
Sharon rose after they’d gone and came to stand close to me, “You gonna be okay?”
I shrugged, “Head’s fine. Ribs are sore as hell, but okay. I’ll be just ducky.”
Her blue eyes met mine, “You know what I mean. She sounded like a special woman.”
I sighed, “I didn’t know her long. But she had a good and courageous heart… and she fell on her sword for what she believed in. You’ve got to admire that.”
“You can sure find some interesting women,” Sharon said with a smile.
“Yeah,” I said sadly, “Too bad I can’t keep any of them.”
Sharon touched my face and hugged me, “Maybe that’s just the way it is for people like us. Least we’ve got each other, Magnum.”
I chuckled, “and our health, don’t forget our health.”
“I’ll come by later and you can cook me dinner,” Sharon said with a smile.
As she turned and strode down the corridor, my office phone started to ring. I cringed inwardly, not sure if I was ready for another adventure just yet. This one had taken a lot out of me and I felt like I needed a little break.
As I walked into my inner ponderia, I thought maybe I’d pack a bag and take Slip’N’Out for a nice long weekend sail. We both could use it.
“Scott Jarvis Investigations,” I said after picking up the handset.
&
nbsp; “Oh, Scott,” It was Debbie Parks, one of the nurses at the Lee Vista Animal Hospital. My throat tightened a little when I realized this. She was no doubt calling about the necropsy results on Morgan.
“Hey, Deb,” I said softly, “What’s up?”
“Well… I’m not sure how to explain this… but… geez… can you come over to the clinic? I’d rather talk about this in person.”
I thought very hard about telling her no. My little buddy was gone and there was nothing I could do now. What difference did it make what substance might’ve been used to poison him. What was done was done. But she sounded so sincere, I didn’t have the heart to brush her off.
I resigned myself to it and drove across town. The animal hospital wasn’t far from my house anyway. I felt a little worn out and figured maybe I’d go home and relax after speaking with Debbie.
I pulled in and made my way inside, finding it harder than I thought to take those few steps from the parking lot and into the vet. The pain had little to do with the dull ache in my side. It was the sharp ache in my heart that slowed me.
Debbie met me at the front desk and I was shocked to see Greg Foster waiting there as well.
“What the Christ…?” I muttered, too baffled even to be angry.
“Thought it was time we buried the hatchet,” Foster explained, “I talked to Jack. I think maybe now you know I wasn’t behind… behind what happened.”
I shrugged. I didn’t much give a damn how Foster felt, honestly. But in fairness I supposed I owed him some civility. I blew out my breath, “Maybe you’re right, Foster. I guess I did blow my stack and act pretty badly the other day. I owe you an apology.”
“Considering the circumstances,” Foster said, extending a hand, “I can’t blame you. No hard feelings?”
I nodded and we shook.
“Scott…” Debbie cut in, “I wanted to give you some information. There was poison used and it was arsenic. It’s hard to believe anybody would poison a dog… but Mr. Foster contacted me this morning and has offered to help explain it to the owner.”
