by Matt Lincoln
We might have a long night in front of us, but I was sure as hell looking forward to it.
Chapter 24: Ethan
I couldn’t sleep anyway, so I didn’t see any harm in volunteering for the first shift. The agreement was, since the women were sharing one tent. If I saw anything, I’d immediately call Header to wake him. Once he arrived, we could head down and make the capture together.
So far, the only thing I was capturing was the sound of the coquís singing in the darkness. It made for peaceful background noise as I watched the empty cave, the gentle, high-pitched coquí repeating itself over and over, breaking up the otherwise silent night. At the very least, it was keeping me awake.
After a few hours of staring blankly into the darkness in the general vicinity of the cave, I began to see some activity. I sat up straighter and looked down at the beach where a speedboat had pulled up to the beach, and two men climbed out and began walking up the beach toward the cave. They each carried a flashlight, the long beams of light bouncing haphazardly through the trees as they went. When they approached the cave, they aimed their flashlights inward, illuminating the interior and exposing it to the island.
I fumbled for my phone and quickly dialed Header, who answered almost immediately.
“They’re here,” I informed him. “Get over here.”
He grumbled something incoherent before the line disconnected, and I shoved my phone haphazardly back into my pocket. I stayed low for the moment. On the off chance that one of those guys was looking to see if they were being watched, I didn’t want to help them by making my presence more obvious.
The illumination sank deeper into the cave until it was just a flicker. If I had to guess, I’d say they were back at the stone slab they called a table by now, which meant that not only did Header and I have time on our side, it would also allow us to get close and sneak up on them before they noticed us.
It wasn’t long until the rustling of leaves behind me alerted me to Header’s presence.
“What’s going on?” he muttered quietly when he dropped down next to me.
“They’re in the cave,” I pointed out. “Two men, each armed with a flashlight. I don’t know if there is anyone else waiting in the speedboat.” I gestured out toward the beach, and Header looked out in that direction.
“A speedboat,” he mumbled to himself. Now that he said it, I remembered what Linda Reyes had said about her experience here. Before she had seen the person waving at her cutter from the beach, she had seen a speedboat leaving the island. I had to wonder if it was the same speedboat.
Together, Header and I made our way down toward the cave entrance, ensuring that we kept within the tree line, using the foliage as cover for our movements. When we neared the cave, we could hear them speak, but they were all speaking in Spanish, and neither Header nor I could make out what they were saying.
“On three?” He moved his lips, but no sound escaped them. I simply nodded, and after his countdown, I rounded the corner into the mouth of the cave, pulling my pistol from my holster as I did so.
I had figured we’d find the two men huddled over the table hard at work, but that wasn’t the case. One of them was working with the cocaine on top of the concrete slab they called a table. He looked vaguely familiar. I couldn’t place him right away, but something was tugging at the corner of my mind, willing me to recall him. The other man, however, was standing at attention, clad entirely in black with a very familiar-looking long gun in his hands. He caught sight of us immediately and raised his rifle, pointing it directly in my face and catching me off-guard.
“What the hell?” The man behind the table looked up in surprise, taking in the sight with confusion and defiance. “Who the hell are you?” I saw a flicker of recognition in his face, but his anger clouded it, and it quickly disappeared.
“Didn’t expect to be interrupted out here, did you?” I asked him, not taking my eyes off of what I had to assume was the man’s bodyguard. For the second time during this case, I had a rifle pointed at my face, and I was not a fan of this apparent new trend. I couldn’t tell where Header was, and I wasn’t risking tearing my eyes off of this man to find him.
I didn’t have to wonder where Header was for long, though. I don’t know what he was doing behind me, but I saw the barrel of the rifle shift upward over my left shoulder before the man pressed the trigger, causing the loud crack of the gunshot to reverberate throughout the cave and sending a shooting pain through my eardrums.
The experience had been incredibly unpleasant, but I needed to press forward. I ducked down and whipped around to face the shooter, firing off a shot of my own, which missed wildly when he darted to the side. Of course, now I had the man’s complete attention, and I knocked him down with a swift kick across his shins to prevent him from being able to get a second shot in.
He recovered quickly, regaining his footing and raising his gun again, but I had a second to react, which was all I needed. I slipped out from under him, circling around until I was in the clear. He swung his rifle over to me, but the momentum was stopped suddenly by Header’s arm. Header pushed the man’s arm to the side, wound up, and punched him in the jaw. I heard an unpleasant crack as Header’s fist made contact, and the sudden force of Header’s fist caused the shooter’s grip on his rifle to falter.
That was exactly what Header needed, and as he wound up to punch him again, I sent my forearm down across the man’s arm, breaking what remained of his grip on his gun. He happened to be wearing a rifle sling, so the rifle didn’t leave his body, but that was fine. I grabbed it and yanked backward, pulling him back with me, while Header dove toward him, pummeling him in the gut. The man gasped for air, and as he struggled, I quickly released the clasp on the sling and slid the rifle off into a far corner before spinning to face the man behind the table.
Of course, no one would have just stood idly by while this was all happening. The table was abandoned, and most of the cocaine was gone. When I spun toward the entrance, I saw a body whip around the corner through the trees.
“Header, you’re on your own,” I called out as I ran out the cave entrance. I heard a loud thud, followed by some shuffling and running footsteps behind me.
“Header, watch your six!” Header shouted, and then a loud crack echoed through the air, swiftly followed by something small buzzing past my head.
“Oh, hell no,” I muttered, pushing myself to run even faster. The man I was chasing was on the beach now, carrying a duffel bag that I could only assume held the contents of what had just been on that makeshift table.
Running straight across the beach would be suicide, as I’d have no cover to save me from the guard. I rounded a corner and ducked behind a tree, forcing myself to take slow, even breaths as I firmly grasped my pistol with both hands. I listened intently until I heard the footsteps slow as they drew nearer, but they didn’t linger. A second shot rang through the night air, and the running resumed.
I peered around the corner to see the guard darting among the trees, trying to avoid Header, who was gaining on him. I jumped out and joined the pursuit, following Header, and the guard over to where the tree line met the dark rock that jutted out into the sea. He hopped down beside it and ran along the edge out to the water. The beach was shallower here, leaving him exposed for less time, while the black rocks camouflaged his movements, his black clothing blending into the background in the darkness.
The speedboat pulled up alongside the rock, and the guard climbed up the edge and out over the water before jumping down into the boat. He looked back at us with a victorious laugh as the speedboat sped off into the night.
“Let’s go wipe his smirk off his face,” Header growled, climbing up the rocks and over, to where Wraith was floating just level with the surface, barely noticeable in the dark beside the rock. I was glad for our planning session earlier, but a sense of unease filled my stomach, and I paused at the top as I watched Header descend the far side.
“What about the women?”
I asked, glancing back through the trees as if I would be able to see them magically.
“Marston, Rosa could kick your ass. Get in the boat.” He was probably right. She was a former SEAL, after all. I wasn’t leaving Alejandra behind without support.
I clambered down the side of the rock and in through the now-open hatch, working my way up to the helm. Header lit the screens up, closed the hatch, and slammed the throttle forward, plastering me backward against the seat for a second until I was able to find my equilibrium again.
“Check the radar,” he barked, and with a couple more swipes, the radar screen lit up in front of me. While I looked down and shifted views, he hit another button, and a sharp ringing filled the cabin.
“Who are you calling?” I called out.
“Rosa,” he spat, his eyes searching the horizon.
“Got them,” I declared, spotting the blip on the radar. “Shift forty-five degrees. We’re gaining on them.”
The ringing stopped as Rosa answered the phone. I heard some shuffling, followed by three taps.
“Rosa, we took Wraith. We only saw two men, and they are both out of the water with us, but there could be more. Stay alert.”
I heard another two taps, and then the line disconnected.
“You two really have the communication down to a science.” I sat back, impressed.
“You do it long enough, it becomes second nature,” he said offhandedly. “I’d do anything for that woman. She’s the best there is.”
“On the field?” I clarified. I saw the speedboat now in front of us, and we were still closing in.
“And off,” he added. “She’s a combat fighter, EMT, chef, friend… She’s great at all of it.”
Header pressed a few more buttons, and I heard a slight whirring. “Hold on,” he teased, jamming his finger purposely on the screen before him.
Wraith vibrated slightly as it absorbed the recoil of what I now saw were two fifty-caliber machine guns that had been uncovered at the bow.
“Don’t kill them,” I reminded him. “We need them.”
“Oh, I’m just scaring them a bit,” he chuckled. I looked up at the scene before us, and sure enough, Header was shooting the water around the boat.
“You could just shoot out their engine,” I pointed out.
“Hey, Marston! Don’t be a backseat driver!” He shot up the water past the boat, and I watched the two men scramble for cover. “I just wanted to have a bit of fun.”
One of the men ducked down out of view, the man that I had thought looked familiar earlier. The guard was now trying to steer them away from us toward safety, but there was no outrunning Wraith. Header kept them in his sights as he taunted them with more firepower.
We did this dance for a bit, the speedboat swerving in a figure-eight, trying to avoid getting hit. Header cackled maniacally as he toyed with them, but the game changed when the second man resurfaced, dressed in his dive gear.
“Oh,” Header mumbled, taking his finger off the trigger momentarily.
I groaned. “You could have just shot the engine out,” I grumbled. “Now what? You don’t have any dive gear on this thing.”
Header looked me dead in the eyes and pushed a button without looking down to see where it was. A panel slid open behind him, and tucked in the wall was, in fact, dive gear. He returned his eyes to the pursuit.
I opened my mouth and shut it again. It made sense that if he was prepared enough to stow camping equipment and mount two fifty-cals on the front, he’d also have the appropriate dive gear.
“It’ll fit me?” I guessed, no longer surprised by anything.
“Just use mine,” he shrugged. “It’ll fit well enough. Oh, you might want to hurry up. Tony Montana just entered the water.”
I made my way over to the compartment and saw that everything was separated by name. Rosa and Doc had dive gear on here also, though I noticed that there wasn’t a set dedicated to Xavier.
I pulled out Header’s equipment and quickly got it on while he kept an eye on the speedboat.
“Hang on,” he muttered after a minute, and the boat turned sharply. I tumbled into the wall and smacked my shoulder against the hard surface. The pain reverberated through my bones, and I groaned as I righted myself and finished getting prepped.
“You alright back there?” Header called out from the helm.
“Yeah,” I groaned, getting to my feet. “It’s been a rough few days. I’m getting beaten up.”
Header glanced back at me. “Oh, you’re ready,” he realized. He hit a button, and the back hatch lowered, exposing me to the elements. The hatch rested flush with the water, providing the perfect platform from which to enter the water.
“Take this,” he called out, unstrapping his K-bar from his thigh and tossing it at me. I secured it quickly.
“Don’t kill anyone!” I called out, and then I eased myself into the water.
Night diving is not for the faint-hearted. Having a dive light and a backup light were musts, but even with all of the proper equipment, vision was still limited.
The underwater view was gorgeous, however. Bright coral reefs and interestingly colored marine life met me as I got my bearings. I knew that Wraith was behind me, and since he’d jerked the boat portside, that would mean my target should be to my right. I took off in that direction, working myself a bit deeper as I searched for a hint as to his location. I hadn’t been expecting him to be very close since the pursuit was still in progress, but he couldn’t have gotten very far.
Finally, I spotted a bobbing light off in the distance and took off toward it. I knew that I would lose the element of surprise once he spotted my dive light, but my only other option was to swim in the dark, in unfamiliar waters. I brushed my hand past Header’s K-bar, assuring myself that I had what I needed to take him down.
The size of the light wasn’t growing, and I realized he was swimming with a purpose, away from me. As I struggled to catch up, two thoughts occurred to me. The first thought was that he knew he was being pursued, and he was trying to get away. This didn’t make much sense, though, since there really wasn’t anywhere to go. The second, and much more likely, scenario was that there was a second boat. He wasn’t trying to avoid me. He was simply trying to get to his allies and to safety.
Since I didn’t know what I’d encounter if I let him get that far, I had to stop him before he reached his destination. I swam harder, pushing myself forward as quickly as I could until I finally felt that I was closing in on him. Once I got close enough, though, my dive light gave me away, and he turned to see me in pursuit. He spun around, curled up, and shot back toward me. I was caught off-guard by the move, but I reacted quickly, darting sideways as quickly as I could in order to lessen the blow. It worked, and for the most part, he dove past me, giving me the time I needed to loosen the K-bar from my thigh.
I was beyond grateful to have my knife when my opponent whipped around, wielding one of his own. He shot toward me again, and this time, I mirrored his movement, swinging my free arm out to the side to knock his knife away from my body. At the same time, I sent my K-bar forward and felt it make contact with the fabric of his dive suit. His eyes widened at the realization, but no blood leaked into the water. I may have ruined the integrity of his suit, but he was uninjured.
He whipped around and came back at me, slicing his knife through the water with reckless abandon. I ducked first one slice and then the next, trying desperately to get a clearer shot at him. Eventually, he was able to catch the side of my suit, and this time, a deep scarlet billowed up before my dive light, and a sharp pain ran through my side as the saltwater penetrated the wound.
My jaw clenched as the pain seeped through my body, but I charged forward, blocking his attempts. I slammed the flat side of my K-bar against his head, causing him to become disoriented only for a second, but it was enough. I sank my K-bar into his abdomen, and his eyes widened as he realized what had happened. His grip loosened on his knife, and I watched as it floate
d away into the darkness.
Knowing that this victory was mine, my next thought flashed up to Header. Was he still too busy playing games to realize that there was a second boat out here? Based on the speed at which this man had been moving, I had to assume it was close. If Header headed this way, he’d have another pursuit on his hands, but my captor and I needed to get out of the water sooner rather than later.
The surrounding water darkened with his blood, and I had no idea where we were or how far Header was. The man before me brought his hand in and clutched my wrist, which was still keeping the blade in his stomach. Fear danced in his eyes, and he made no move to fight me further. I slowly began our ascent, and he went with me willingly, until we finally broke the surface. There was nothing to be seen in any direction except for the endless water, lightly illuminated by the moonlight.
“I feel as if you haven’t thought this through,” he snarled. His thick accent did very little to cover the disdain and the pain in his voice. If the gash in my side stung in the salty water, his stab wound must have been so much worse.
“Did you?” I asked pointedly. “I know you were headed somewhere. Did you have a backup plan in case you didn’t make it?”
He scowled at me and didn’t answer, but I didn’t read too much into it. If he had a backup plan, it would have probably involved someone coming to his rescue, which wouldn’t be good news for me. On the other hand, without a backup plan, both of us were left stranded out at sea.
Something glinted out there under the light of the moon, and I squinted as I tried to make out the object. A wave of relief crashed over me as the recognizable hull of Wraith came into view. I heard a groan from beside me as the man knew he’d been caught.
The glossy black hull reflected the shimmering surface of the water, and it turned as it approached us before dropping the rear hatch. Header was standing inside at the helm, beaming like a little kid on Christmas morning, and laying on the deck with his wrists cuffed around the base of one of the chairs was the security guard, notably unarmed.
