“John didn’t have those kinds of resources,” said Garcia. “Still, you will stay alive longer if you assume somebody is watching you.”
“That sounds a little paranoid,” responded Harold.
“Harold, please. I’m CIA. There is nothing paranoid about thinking you’re being followed when you probably are.”
“Maybe, but if every stranger is possibly out to kill you, how do you know who you can trust?”
Maria slid her arm around Joshua’s. “You can trust the people who love you.”
Harold looked over at Garcia, “How do you do it?”
“What?” asked Garcia.
“Not go crazy,” responded Harold. “Why aren’t you paranoid? From the sounds of it, I know I would be.”
Garcia leaned against the bar with his elbow. “I’m a funny guy. I like to keep things light. Otherwise, yea, this life can make you crazy. In fact, you guys may want to keep that in mind. Like it or not, from this point forward, you’re part of my world. Things will be very serious when we’re around Chuck. So enjoy your downtime. It will help keep you sharp.”
“Is that why you always wear them? It amuses you to see people’s reaction?” asked Harold.
Garcia raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
Harold raised his massive arms over his head and stretched. He was going to enjoy this. “The sunglasses.”
“What about them?”
“Do you think people’s reaction to you wearing them all the time is funny? If you think you’re being followed, you are pretty bad at hiding. I mean, look at you. It’s getting dark outside, and we’re in a dive bar. Here you are with your mirrored sunglasses on. You stick out like a sore thumb. If somebody is following you, you’re an easy target.”
Garcia spun partway around on the barstool and rested his elbows behind him on the counter. He turned and looked at Harold, who smoothed down a hair he noticed sticking out in the reflection of Garcia’s sunglasses. “It’s true. I do wear these beauties more often than I should, but now is the proper time to be sporting these.”
“You want to be seen?” Harold asked.
“For the moment. I’ve met Chuck. He assumes he’s helping the company sow discord in northern Africa. He has no idea what’s going to happen to him.”
“And what exactly is that?” asked Harold.
Garcia answered with a half-smile. “It’s need to know. You’ll find out at the right time.”
Harold decided to get back to his original discussion. “Nice try, Agent Garcia. Let’s get back on topic. Why would you want to wear the sunglasses in areas that make you easier to spot?”
Garcia’s face was expressionless, and he appeared to be looking at Joshua and Maria. Harold followed Garcia’s lead and thought Joshua and Maria looked as enamored by the discussion as he felt.
Garcia finally spoke up. “Well, do you see the two pretty women in the corner forty-five degrees to your left? The redhead that is twenty and trying to pass as twenty-five? Her raven-haired friend is probably twenty-three. I would guess they are both University of Miami coeds.”
Harold let his eyes dart over to the two women. The brunette had on a thin, tight, white T-shirt with the familiar green and orange U. The redhead wore an equally form-fitting purple T-shirt. Their short-shorts did not reveal any tan lines on their thighs. Harold assumed they must have been sunbathing most of the day. He looked back over to Garcia. “They’re pretty tough to miss.”
“And yet, you did,” Garcia said with a smirk.
Harold waved off his comment. “I’m not here to trawl for women in bars.”
Garcia’s forehead wrinkled slightly. “Well, if you had been, you would have failed. Those ladies have been watching you ever since we walked in here. My eyes have been glued that direction during most of our discussion, but you couldn’t tell. That’s why I keep this pair of honeys over my eyes.”
Harold let himself slide off his barstool. “How do you know they don’t work for Chuck?”
Garcia followed suit and stood up and stretched his legs. “Chuck’s a pig. He doesn’t let women into his organization unless it’s for his personal pleasure, or they are used to seduce a client or enemy. College girls are not his style.”
Harold pointed towards the front door. “Are we going to stay here all night and talk, or are we going to get something to eat?”
“I’m famished,” Joshua and Maria said in unison.
“Food it is,” replied Garcia.
As they exited the Green Parrot, Garcia removed his sunglasses.
Harold asked, “What’s wrong, Agent? Are you done hiding your peepers from the world?”
Garcia looked up at Harold. “Something like that. When it’s dark enough, and crowded enough, you can look around and normally nobody will notice.”
“Fair enough.”
Garcia gave Harold a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Harold, I may make a company man out of you yet.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Joshua said.
Harold held up his hand, “Easy, Doc. I have this. I may have lots of questions about Garcia’s tradecraft, but that’s just to keep myself, and the rest of us, alive.”
After a few hours of drinking and eating, the small band was exhausted and stumbled their way back to the bed and breakfast for a well-deserved rest.
Chapter 10
“Doc, we’re all waiting on you two,” Harold chided.
Joshua and Maria came meandering out to the SUV. This morning Joshua had joined Garcia in wearing sunglasses. Garcia and Harold stood waiting in front of the vehicle’s grille with their arms crossed.
Garcia spoke up, “The plane is waiting.”
“I thought we had a private plane,” said Maria.
“We do,” answered Garcia, “but we’re still on a clock. I have people standing by for our arrival on the island, and they have work to do.”
“I’m sorry,” said Joshua. “I’m afraid it’s my fault. It appears I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Harold raised his voice as Joshua walked by. “Oh, I thought you were practicing your secret agent look.”
Joshua winced.
Garcia leaned over to Harold. “I know you’re joking, but go easy with the spy jokes. Your voice carries. Remember Chuck’s people last night?”
Harold nodded and looked around, afraid he might find someone standing nearby, but thankfully nobody was in earshot. The crew finished loading up and headed to the airport. Harold kept a wary eye out the window as they left the complex. Except for a few pedestrians, the street was quiet compared to the night before.
The small company walked through the same terminal they arrived at less than twenty-four hours earlier and continued on their way out to the aircraft parking area then up to a blue and white Cessna Grand Caravan.
Harold noticed Joshua’s shoulders slump. “What’s the matter, Doc?”
“I’ve flown in this airplane before.”
“Are you worried you’ll get airsick?”
Joshua looked towards Harold, but all Harold saw was his reflection in Joshua’s wraparound sunglasses. “No, my stomach is fine. Well, fine enough. I don’t like small planes.”
“How bad can it be? Fewer seats means fewer people. At least I should be able to squeeze in somewhere.”
A man walked around from the other side of the airplane. “Everyone, this is our pilot, Frank,” Garcia said. “Frank, this is everyone.”
Frank gave everybody a broad smile and stuck out his hand. “Welcome aboard.” After he finished shaking everybody’s hands, he looked over at Harold. “You’ll get the privilege of sitting up front with me in the right seat.”
Harold raised his eyebrows. “Me? I don’t know anything about flying.”
Frank gave a sideways grin and reached up to give Harold’s shoulder a friendly slap. “Oh, you’re not helping me fly, big boy. We need to balance the weight of the plane. We’re putting you up front to help balance your bags.”
“See what I mean?” Joshua said.
Harold gave both men a slow nod. Frank directed the loading of the luggage, and everybody climbed aboard. The takeoff was smooth, and soon they were flying above the beautiful Caribbean. Harold looked out the co-pilot’s window and enjoyed the view of the Great Florida Reef. The plane was only three thousand feet in the air, and Harold had a good view of the sharks and other large fish swimming below along the shallow reef in search of food. The view reminded him of a giant aquarium.
After a short flight, and several small keys later, Frank dropped the altitude of the plane to twelve hundred feet. Harold heard Garcia yell from behind him. “We’re coming up on Salvation Key.”
Harold’s voice easily projected over the plane’s engine, “May we never need her safety.”
“If we do, this is the one place I can guarantee you that you’ll be safe from danger.” Garcia looked over at Joshua sitting across from him. “Doctor, I think you’ll approve of the improvements we’ve made since you last came here.”
Harold noticed Joshua’s fingers dug into the armrest. He glanced to Maria who was smiling and looking out the windows.
Harold joked, “Doc, I thought you liked to fly.”
“Not small planes!” Joshua answered emphatically.
Harold laughed and looked out the front window. Frank navigated the plane around the large key. Below Harold saw a new airstrip that appeared to extend off the key by about two hundred feet. On the other end sat a guard tower. A white-colored road led from the airstrip to a compound of large buildings. Harold heard Garcia’s voice from behind, “Welcome to your new home everyone. Harold, that large mansion is yours. Doctor, you’ll notice when we fly back over on your side of the plane there is a new two-story house. That’s for you and Maria. The remaining cottages are for any agents that need to be assigned to the island, and for me.”
From the air, Harold saw a large house with Spanish tile. It appeared to have a plaza, a swimming pool, and exterior stairs leading up to a large room and breezeway. Palm trees and sawgrass lined the white driveway and paths.
Harold turned in his seat to Garcia. “What’s the road made out of? Concrete?”
“Crushed shells.”
Harold turned back around and continued to gaze at the beautiful scene beneath him. The plane had cleared Salvation Key and was coming around for a pass from the other side. From over the top of the plane, Harold noted the more jungle-like conditions on the other end of the island. Looking out the side window, he saw large objects in the water that appeared to be manatees. On one side of the Key was a small cove with a modest cabin cruiser tied off next to a pier.
Malibu had its share of luxury. Richard had provided well for the family, but to Harold, this property felt more like a resort than a home. Harold reflected on John’s obsession with wealth. How could John have thought his father had more wealth? Sure, his company was worth more on paper, but his family had always invested most of their wealth back into the company and its valuable employees. Maybe this is why Dad did so much better than John. He never would have wasted his money on something like this.
Harold barely heard Maria’s voice attempting to yell over the drone of the plane. “Joshua, look at our house. It looks wonderful. It even has a front porch.”
“I hope you like it,” replied Garcia. “Real estate is premium, so we had to make it two stories. Your bedroom is upstairs, but I think you’ll like the view. Occasionally a saltwater crocodile will wander out of the vegetation in the early part of the day. Don’t worry. They don’t get too close to the house. We have a fence set up a few feet from the back of the property. You just can’t see it from the air.”
“It looks very beautiful,” Maria proclaimed. “Isn’t this beautiful, Joshua?”
Joshua slowly nodded his head.
“Take us home, Frank,” said Garcia.
The Cessna banked and extended diagonally past the island. After a few minutes, Frank did a U-turn and deftly landed the plane on the runway. The Grand Caravan barely stopped before four open-air jeeps filled with boxes showed up next to the parking area near the runway along with at least a dozen people. They all stood clear waiting for the prop to stop rotating. As soon as the motor quit, two people walked up and began to pull bags out from the belly of the plane.
“Everyone hold up until they get our gear,” Garcia said.
Harold asked, “What’s up with the welcoming committee?”
“As I said in Key West, we’re on the clock. These people have been working non-stop for several months getting the island ready for your arrival. Most of them are finally getting to go home. There will be a few planes coming in and out today. Don’t worry about the commotion. The airspace is normally kept clear.”
Harold looked over his shoulder at Garcia. “You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
Garcia tilted his head. “How so?”
“You started working on this long before I agreed to do anything.”
Garcia tilted down his sunglasses and looked Harold in the eye. “You may not remember me from when you were a kid. You were busy doing what boys your age did, but I was around. Your dad and I did some work together. I knew your dad, and by extension, I know the type of man he raised. I had no doubt you’d make the right decision.”
Harold turned back around and quietly gazed out the front window at the workers busily moving luggage and lock boxes around near the aircraft. After a few moments, the team was able to disembark.
Garcia walked ahead with quick strides. “Follow me.”
The crew followed Garcia to an empty jeep and climbed aboard. “Hold on.” Garcia threw the vehicle into first gear and made a U-turn that resembled more of a half donut before relaxing the gas pedal and cruising away from the airstrip. Within ten yards, they were clear of personnel. A short half mile later, they pulled into the compound, and Garcia pulled to a stop in front of a two-story house.
The house was covered in white stucco with gold trim along the top of the second story. A small front porch accented the home. The covered porch was decorated with four white wicker rocking chairs. One of the chairs was distinctly larger than the others. “Welcome home, Doctor, Maria,” said Garcia. “We’ll come back and take the grand tour, but I wanted to stop a moment and let you see it from the outside.”
“It’s nice,” said Maria.
Garcia continued, “From here, you’re within walking distance of the main house but far enough away that you can all have some breathing room.”
“The doc was closer to me in Malibu,” Harold said.
“True, but he could get away when he wanted to as well. Leaving the island is not always a simple affair. You’ll appreciate the breathing room.”
“Good thinking,” said Joshua.
Harold turned around from the front seat with his eyes wide. “Doc, I didn’t know I was smothering you.”
Joshua patted the back of the headrest. “Take it easy. I was half joking. We all like to get away. I had the gym in Malibu, and you and Tom would disappear into the hills to do whatever it was you boys liked to do.”
“Free climbing.” Harold turned back and faced the front.
Garcia pointed ahead. Harold could make out the top of the Spanish-tiled roof of the main house. Palm trees graced the top edge of the wall of the Moroccan-styled structure.
“Onward,” said Garcia with the enthusiasm of a small child showing his parents his latest school project. He punched the gas, and the crew slid to a stop a few moments later in front of the entryway. The front door opened.
Harold gasped. A well-tanned brunette strolled out of the house. Her hair was in a ponytail to give her neck relief from the Caribbean warmth. Her khaki shorts and white T-shirt fit perfectly around her firm curves. Her dark eyes locked on to Harold, and he leaped out of the jeep. The vehicle rocked as it gave way to his escape. Time and space disappeared as he ran to her arms. He heard her grunt as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. Her firm, smooth n
eck felt like satin against his lips, and the distinct odor of coconut wafted into Harold’s nostrils.
In his ear, he heard her gasp, “I can’t breathe, darling.”
Harold quickly lowered her down and released his bear hug. “Sorry.”
Darla Johanson reached up, gently caressed his cheek, and gave him a long kiss.
He had forgotten how soft and silky her lips could feel. They finally released, and Harold asked, “What are you doing here? I thought you were on a secret assignment somewhere?”
“I was. Look around,” said Darla. “This is it. Garcia asked me if I would rejoin the CIA and come help with this project. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but we couldn’t afford to risk any leaks, and we wanted to make sure that your motivation for being here was for the right reasons.”
Harold winked and said, “You’re all the reason I would need.”
“Exactly,” said Darla. “You need to be here first and foremost to help us capture some dangerous men and to help your company recover. Besides, I wanted to surprise you.”
Joshua and Maria walked up, and Darla gave them both a hug.
“Doctor, I think you’ll like your house.”
“I think we will. I’m still adjusting to being back. It’s definitely different, but very much the same.”
Darla turned and let her gaze pan the front of the house. “Yes. Well, we didn’t see the point in tearing everything down. It took a while to clean things up, but I can assure you it’s all good as new.”
“Is there still a path to the beach we walked on? It was one of the better places on the island. Aside from the senator’s rendezvous.”
“Yes. In fact, I widened the path and laid down fresh-crushed shells. It’s easier to find and walk.”
“Good,” said Joshua.
“Shall we go inside?” asked Garcia.
Harold took a moment to look at the entrance. Despite the familiar Spanish tiles, the multiple sharp angles and rectangular dormers of the French, Italian, and Moroccan design was vastly different from the Spanish style he had grown up with. Although his estate was large, it maintained a semblance of humility. This home screamed money. John had wanted anyone coming to his private island to know he had a lot of wealth and to be intimidated by it.
Harold and the Angel of Death Page 8
