Fallen Hunter (Jesse McDermitt Series) (26 page)

BOOK: Fallen Hunter (Jesse McDermitt Series)
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A moment later Julie was climbing the ladder. She sat down next to Deuce on the bench seat and held out an empty cup. “The pot’s empty,” she said. “I put on another brew.”

Tina poured her cup and set the thermos in the small cabinet by the helm. We each sat silently and drank coffee watching the pelicans dive on bait fish in the channel.

It was about 1500, so I reached down and started the engines. Within a few minutes the rest of the team was gathered on the dock, Hinkle and Mitchel untying the lines. Tony and Art came out into the cockpit and shook hands with everyone. Words of good luck were said by everyone to the two men and then I put the engines in gear and slowly idled out the
narrow channel into Harbor Channel.

I stepped the throttles up to 1300 rpm, just enough to get the
Revenge
up on plane, as I turned northeast and followed the channel to the cut north of Upper Harbor Key. Tina turned on the radar and sonar and said, “Nothing on the radar all the way to Key West, Jesse.”

I smiled and said, “I just might promote you from galley wench to swab before this is over.”

Tony and Art came up and joined us on the bridge. Art sat down next to Julie and Tony leaned against my seat. Once we passed through the cut Tina leaned over, checked the sonar and said, “Ten fathoms under the keel, Captain.”

“Now you’re bucking for Vice Admiral,” I said as I pushed the throttles on up to 1600 rpm and the big boat surged forward to
its cruising speed of 26 knots.

“You two should get back below,” Deuce said. “Just in case. And try to get some rest.”

“Aye aye, Commander,” they both said in unison, before climbing back down the ladder and disappearing into the salon.

“You’re going to have a hard time choosing between those two aren’t you?” Julie said to Deuce.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“To be your best man,” she said
with a smile.

“You two are getting married?” Tina asked.

“Yeah,” Julie said. “In late May, when I get back from training.”

“Congratulations,” Tina said smiling.

“No,” Deuce said. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“You,” he said. “It would have been dad, would you take his place?”

I looked at Deuce and said, “I could never take Russ’s place in any way.
However, I’d be damn proud to stand in for him.”

We cruised west for almost an hour then began a long slow turn into Northwest Channel
. Another half hour later and we were past Key West and into the Florida Straits. I set the GPS with a destination for Cozumel and a way point about fifteen miles off the western tip of Cuba, turned on the autopilot and let the computer take over. The waters were very calm and there were only small, puffy clouds to the west. It was going to be a nice smooth passage.

“Let’s go see if Chyrel has emailed the transcripts,” Deuce said.

“Tina, you have the helm,” I said as I stood up. She slid over into the first seat and sipped her coffee, while checking the radar.

Deuce and I climbed down the ladder and found Tony and Art asleep once again in the salon. I used to be able to do that
, but find it harder to just flip the switch these days. I got my laptop out and powered it up. I plugged in a set of ear buds and offered one to Deuce. Opening the email with the transcript first, then opening the audio file, we were able to follow the sound using the written transcript. The audio file was only eighteen minutes long, then we heard the engine shut off and Santiago and the woman leave the boat. The transcript stated that the audio continues with occasional words from passersby for another forty-two minutes before the bug powered down, having depleted its battery life.

We played it back again and reread the transcript. There really wasn’t much more to it, than what Chyrel had already told us. Santiago telling the woman how much he wanted to get me to haul the arms shipment, how he thought I’d be more dependable than the broken down old shrimp boats he’d been using and the three Cuban crews
that were ferrying for him now and him telling the woman to seduce me. The only part that Chyrel hadn’t mentioned was her response, “Sera un placer, estoy seguro,” she’d said. “That will be a pleasure, I’m sure.”

“Maybe we can use that,” Deuce whispered to keep from waking the two men.

“You’re new lady friend seems like the type that would go ballistic,” Tony said without opening his eyes.

“Not a lady I’d want
pissed at me,” Art added, his eyes closed also.

“I’m not going to sleep with the woman,” I said.

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Deuce said and the other two men started to chuckle.

“Y’all are Neanderthals,” I said.

“And Jarheads are Cro-Magnons,” Tony said.

“You t
wo get some rest,” Deuce said. Then to me he said, “Let’s split the watch into two hour shifts, starting at 1900. All hands on deck at midnight, when we’ll be off Guadiana Bay, turn and make a fast run into the bay to a spot about two miles off the point of land between Guadiana Bay and La Fe. They can use the scooters to make it to the point on scuba and stash the scooters and scuba gear. It’s about two and a half clicks across the point on foot and then less than a click cross the smaller bay underwater using rebreathers. They should have no trouble getting on station half a mile from the camp well before sunrise.”

“Just to be safe,” I said. “We’ll stay at least
fifteen miles off the coast until we’re almost past the bay. The wind’s out of the west usually in that area and with calm seas, we can make about forty-five knots, when we turn back toward the bay. We can be well inside the bay in twenty minutes and I’ll turn completely around before they go feet wet. Shouldn’t take more than two minutes to get them in the water and start back out to the twelve mile limit, maybe another fifteen to make that. Less than forty minutes of course deviation and there’s no radar near the bay itself. The nearest military facility is the air base at San Julian, twenty miles inland from where we’ll drop them. Their radar won’t pick us up and just after midnight, we’ll be in and out before anyone could even think of mounting a response, should anyone hear us and think to call it in. Once we’re sure that we’re in and out undetected, we can go back to two hour watches until 0600, when we’ll be getting close to Coz.

Deuce and I went back up to the bridge and I took over the helm. I checked the radar and noticed that a freighter was ahead about fifteen miles. I checked the GPS and saw that Tina had already plotted a course correction to take us aft of the freighter.

“I’m a quick learner,” she said when I looked at her and smiled.

“Yeah,” I said. “You sure are.”

Once we cleared the freighter I entered the way point where we were going to make our turn into the bay to drop Tony and Art off. I planned to make the high speed run completely blacked out, using only sonar and my night vision goggles. I didn’t want to risk using active radar in case it might be picked up at the air base or one of the mobile missile launchers the Cubans were known to have along the coast. I doubted there would be any on the far western tip of the island country, but I always preferred to minimize risk whenever possible.

An hour later
the sun was slowly slipping toward the horizon. There wasn’t a single cloud in the western sky and just some high, wispy clouds above us. “This sunset is going to surprise you,” I told Tina.

“After that green flash the other night, I don’t know how another sunset could be more surprising.”

Deuce and Julie smiled, knowing what I meant. In the open ocean there is no twilight. As the sun sets you go from daylight to total darkness in a matter of minutes. We watched the sun, just off the starboard bow, as it fell lower and lower. At a point just above the horizon, the water seemed to leap up and grab it, startling Tina once again. The conditions were right, it was cool and perfectly clear. There was a good chance of another green flash. The clouds over our head streaked with hues of pink, orange, red and purple as the sun slowly started to flatten out and disappear below the far horizon. I reached up and turned on the running lights as well as the powerful spotlight. In these waters it wasn’t uncommon to see floating debris, or even Cuban rafters.

Just as the last of the sun started to disappear, it happened. A small part of it seemed to separate from the main orb and lift up out of the water. Then the orb disappeared, the small separation flashed green and then it too disappeared, bringing a squeal from Tina. A few seconds later, we were enveloped in total darkness.

Tina felt around and found my hand, squeezing it and said, “What happened? Why’d if get so dark?”

Julie giggled and said, “That’s the surprise. There’s no twilight on the open ocean.”

I turned on the low level, red, overhead lights, bathing us in a soft red glow. “Deuce, why don’t you take the first watch?” I said. “Julie can come up and relieve you in a couple of hours, then I’ll take the watch as we get near the Cuban coast. Right now, I want to take her to the foredeck and show her something.”

“Sure,” said Deuce with a knowing smile.

Tina and I left the bridge and climbed up to the wide side decks. “Watch your step,” I said. “Keep a hand on the handrails.” She made her way slowly forward in the near pitch darkness, with only the filtered red light from the bridge. Once we were clear of the salon bulkhead I said, “Take a couple of steps to your left, sit down on the deck and lean back against the forward bulkhead.”

Once she was settled, I sat down beside her and she said, “What is it I’m supposed to see in this pitch darkness?”

As she felt around for my hand, I waited a few seconds then heard her gasp and say, “Oh my.”

Our eyes
had become adjusted to the near darkness. At sea, it doesn’t get completely dark. The moon was just a sliver, following the sun far to the west. But the stars provided quite a bit of light. On the open ocean, you can see more stars in one small part of the sky than you can see all across the whole sky when on shore.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said. “I never imagined there were so many stars. Why has nobody ever shown me this before?”

“Landlubbers never see it,” I said. “Even if you go far out in the desert, or high up in the mountains, you can’t see what you can out here on the blue. Right now we’re about halfway between Key West and Cuba, forty miles from any light source that would dilute the sky.”

We sat there for about twenty minutes and I pointed out the few stars and constellations that I knew. “We’d better get some rest,” I said.
“I’ll have the short watch from 2300 to midnight and during the insertion. You won’t need to take watch until we’re sure we got in and out undetected.”

“Are you worried about going into Cuban waters
tonight?” she asked.

“Not really,” I said. “That part of Cuba is mostly just tiny fishing villages. Most don’t even have electricity. And most of the patrol boats don’t have enough fuel to even put out to sea.”

We got up and made our way back to the cockpit then through the salon, where Tony and Art were snoring away. We went forward to the stateroom, took off our shoes and climbed into bed with our clothes on. That didn’t last long. We made love quietly, to the slow rocking of the boat. Finally we fell exhausted to sleep. But not before getting fully dressed again.

A single light tap on the hatch
awakened me. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was 2300. We should be skirting the coast of Cuba about twenty miles offshore about now, with a good thirty miles to go to the way point. I slipped on my Topsiders and opened the hatch. Deuce was just going out the salon hatch. I joined him on the bridge and checked our position on the GPS. We were almost exactly where I thought we’d be, but a little further from the coast. About thirty miles north of the long barrier reef, off Cayo de Buenavista, another fifty miles before we turn southeast into the bay.

I looked at Deuce. He just shrugged and said, “I felt thirty miles would be less obvious, in case we’re being watched.” I noticed he had brought his satellite phone up with him. “Probably a good thing, too. I just talked to Chyrel. She’s picking up active radar from a mobile launch site near
Santa Lucia, about fifty miles back. They just shut it down a few minutes ago. She checked the satellite using infrared and nothing’s coming out of the port.”

“Smart thinking,” I said. “We still have plenty of time.”

“I’m going to go down and uncrate the scooters and get their gear together,” he said. “I want them to get as much rest as they can.”

“My tool chest is under the ladder to port, in the engine room,” I said. “There’s a cordless drill there, too. Battery’s on the charger on the opposite side of the generator.”

He climbed down and disappeared through the engine room hatch. There were four tanks already set up for doubles on Tony and Art’s personal BC and regulator. That would be more than enough air for the scooter ride in and back out. All they’d have to do would be put on their wetsuits, slip into the rigs, put on their masks and fins and get in the water. Deuce would have both scooters waiting on the swim platform, lashed in place with a strap I’d already put there.

Thirty
minutes later, Deuce joined me again on the bridge. “Everything’s all set,” he said. He leaned over and checked the GPS. We were still fifteen miles from the turn, maybe another thirty minutes.

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