Caribbean's Keeper (34 page)

He stared at the names of admirals and captains, then reflected on his own service, or lack thereof. In his worn shorts, running shoes, and linen shirt, Cole looked nothing like the spit-polished officer he’d once hoped to be. His hair was a ragged mess and his still-black eye only accentuated the gritty self-induced homeless-esque persona that he’d embraced. At least for now, he was again on the right side of the law, but staring at the names of a century’s worth of naval leaders, Cole could not help but feel some shame overtaking his conscience. The Caribbean Cole knew was a far cry from what these names on the wall had known over the past century, yet somehow Cole’s kind and that of the names on the board were intertwined in the fabric of the islands and the waters of the Caribbean.

Before Cole’s mind could wander much further into the past, Tony called for him and they stepped back out onto the ramp, into the stiff easterly breeze, and up into the King Air. With engines running, the pilots again taxied to the runway and lifted off, flying up and over the small bay and back to the south, away from Cuba.

g

It was late afternoon when Cole saw land again through his window. The plane descended low, perhaps 1,000 feet over the shore line, and circled a runway tucked against the coast. Without any sort of air traffic control to speak of, the pilots banked and weaved a meandering circuitous course around the field, to check it out before lining up on a short final. Their improvised approach reminded him of Murph landing his own plane back in Martinique. Touching down firmly, the pilots were quick on the brakes and brought the plane to a stop, shutting down on the bleached and cracked runway. Looking around, Cole could see that jungle more or less extended right up to the edge of the concrete. They were, by any account, in the middle of nowhere.

Tony stood up and advised Cole to let him do the talking. When they stepped out, two trucks pulled up to the plane, each loaded with local men in green uniforms with rifles in various positions across their shoulders or in their arms. They stood silently in the truck bed waiting for Tony or Cole to make a move. Cole looked back to see both pilots leaning against the wing in their best attempt to look calm.

Cole could feel the tension, though. He’d been in enough encounters such as this to know that one wrong move would end poorly for those with the least amount of firepower. Clearly, Cole and Tony were the minority. Tony waved casually and approached the closest truck. A young man jumped out from the back and met Tony half way. The two shook hands and Cole felt the tension break just a bit. Tony passed the man an envelope from his back pocket and Cole could see that Tony had a pistol tucked in the small of his back.

The soldier opened the enveloped and played with its contents for just a moment before waving Cole over. By the time Cole shook his hand, the man was smiling. Cole and Tony climbed in the back of one of the trucks then set off down a dusty and rutted road into the jungle that surrounded the airfield. Cole looked around at his new travel companions who did little to even acknowledge Cole’s presence.

“Was that a bribe?” Cole asked as the truck bounced and shook down the dirt road.

Tony smiled and replied, “Just buying us some security, that’s all. Nicaraguan Army. We’re on good terms with them for the moment.”

Almost a half an hour later, Cole recognized the burned-out remains of the old folks’ compound as the trucks approached. Both trucks pulled up and circled the smoldering pile of ash before coming to an abrupt stop. The men in green uniforms hopped out and formed a loose perimeter around the complex. None of them talked much, but they all held their rifles—mostly derivatives of AKs—at the ready.
Disputed turf
, Cole thought. Just as David had told him when Cole ran the money back to Panama.

Tony motioned for Cole to follow him around to the back. Once there, Cole saw the burned bodies of what must have been the man and the woman. Smoke still rose from their shack a few feet away and its smell did a merciful job of hiding the stench of the old couples’ burnt flesh.

Tony crouched down and examined both of the remains. They were charred black beyond recognition and were contorted from the immense heat that had burned their flesh. Cole did not want to believe what he saw. Tony looked closer at the back of their heads and moved the bodies slightly with a stick.

From his crouched position, Tony spoke. “Both had bullets to the back of their heads.”

Cole said nothing, but stood motionless as the guilt burned at him even more than the Central American heat. Cole had been the one to point out the river mouth, and now the couple was dead because of it.

Tony looked back up to Cole and could see the remorse on Cole’s face.

“They were shot first, Cole.” Tony said it as if that made it any more bearable.

Cole shook his head. “Tony, they suffered more than you know.”

Tony then nodded in solemn agreement and looked away, knowing that Cole was not looking for anything to dull the pain.

“Does anyone ever get anything right with this shit?” Cole was mad and ran his fingers through his matted hair.

Tony replied, “It’s a nasty business. I won’t argue that with you.” There was a pause before Tony continued. “Someone has to fight these guys, Cole. If we don’t fight them, they win.”

Cole thought for a second, looked down at the bodies, and asked, “Is this winning?”

With that, Cole walked back to the remnants of the shack where the woman had done her cooking and the man had sold his assorted goods. He fought back a tear, and kicked through the ash and charred debris. Cole took a few minutes before he crouched down in the black and grey dust and picked up the framed picture he was looking for. Wiping away the smoke stains from the glass, he could see it was indeed the picture of the boy whose parents now laid dead only feet away. The entire family was gone.

Las Drogas
, Cole thought.

Cole walked back over to the remains of the mother and father, laying the picture down in between them. From the truck, two soldiers brought shovels and proceeded to dig a grave in a far corner of their plot of land. Tony continued to look around and he put a few bits and pieces of debris in evidence bags. Cole walked over to the soldiers and extended his hand, asking for one of the shovels. One soldier was more than happy to oblige and Cole helped dig a grave for the two most recent victims of a silent war that Cole now wished more than ever to have never known from either side of the law.

g

As sunset approached, Cole and the soldiers buried the remains. Cole had placed the photo on top before helping to fill in the dirt. None of the soldiers seemed to show much remorse, and it occurred to Cole that it was not for a lack of compassion, but rather a more normal occurrence for this part of the world than Cole knew. Driving back to the airstrip in the twilight, Cole and Tony talked more.

“Was this a message to them, or to us?” Cole asked.

Tony shook his head, saying, “I don’t know. It was a message to someone. I think your boy David has gone off the reservation. This isn’t standard cartel stuff anymore.”

They paused again and as the truck neared the airstrip, Tony explained his rationale to Cole. “I do this kind of stuff to keep it off the streets of America. I know it’s not pretty, Cole, but it’s happening. If we don’t try to stop it, no one will, and these cartels will not stop on their own. It’s a nasty business, on their end and on ours. But someone has to do it.”

Cole nodded, accepting Tony’s explanation.

When they returned to the plane, the pilots were already busy starting the engines. Tony and Cole climbed up and Tony went forward to talk with the pilots, returning a minute later and sitting down next to Cole.

Tony asked, “You feeling adventurous?”

“Why?” Cole asked.

“The pilots topped off the gas tanks with some local fuel, and they told me they’re not entirely sure it’s good shit. It would kind of suck to crash halfway across the Caribbean at night.”

Cole asked, “So where are we going?”

Tony smiled, saying, “I figured we could go check on your girl why we’re down here. If David is out for blood, it’s probably time to get her somewhere safe.”

Cole’s eyes grew wide and he didn’t know what to say.

“Or we could sleep here tonight in the plane and wait for morning. It might be a bit safer in daylight.”

Cole laughed under his breath and stared at Tony. “Are you fucking with me?” If Tony was screwing with him, Cole was ready to start swinging. After the death of the old couple, Cole was not in a mood to joke around.

Tony patted Cole on the shoulder and answered, “No, I’m not fucking with you, Cole. I think you could use a break for a day or two.”

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?”

Tony motioned the pilots to get going and before long they accelerated down the pock-marked runway and lifted off, turning east into the night sky.

g

Tony nodded off during the flight, but Cole found it impossible to sleep. Isabella was only a few hours away from him. It had been almost two weeks since he’d last seen her. Cole knew he was a mess, but he smiled and imagined that she would laugh at his roughed up appearance. Now more than ever, he longed for her companionship.
How good it will feel to lay down next to her,
he thought. He smiled at the thought of her hair tickling his face.

It was after midnight when the plane touched down and taxied off the runway not far from where Murph had put his plane to bed the last time. The airport looked and smelled the same. Had it not been for Isabella, the mood would have been somber at best. Thoughts of Murph flying out of Panama haunted Cole as Tony and him stepped out of the plane and the two pilots went to work putting the King Air to bed. The gravity of losing a good friend sunk in even more and Cole tried his best to shake those thoughts from his mind.

Finding a cab outside the gate, Cole said, “Hotel Bakoua.”

The cab driver nodded and they were off. It was the same as when he’d left almost two weeks before. He stared out the window at the palm trees swaying under the easterly winds. So much had changed in two weeks and so much of it had been out of Cole’s control. The familiarity of the island soothed his mind, but thoughts of Isabella still gnawed at his stomach. Simply seeing her would be such a relief. Before long the cab pulled up through the gate and Tony paid the driver in U.S. dollars.

Walking up to the front desk, the woman at the counter recognized Cole immediately and went into the back room. She emerged a minute later with Cole’s bag and set it down on the floor, yelling at him in French. Cole had no idea what she was saying, but she made quite a commotion, enough that an older man appeared from the offices down the hall and spoke with her before turning to Cole and Tony.

He spoke English, “Mr. Williams, you cannot stay. Here are your things.”

Cole didn’t understand. “Why, what happened?” Cole was reaching for his wallet to settle whatever trouble there was.

The man shook his head and scowled at Cole.

“Mr. Williams, men came after you left and went through your room. They told us you are a criminal. We cannot allow you to stay here with us. You must go.”

Cole was floored. “Is Isabella here?”

The man shook his head. “No. She has gone back to France. She was worried about the baby. The men were not nice to her. Mr. Williams, you must leave or I will call the police.”

Cole’s eyes grew big as he asked, “Baby? What baby?”

Tony took a step back and looked at Cole for a reaction. Even the always calm Tony realized the magnitude of the man’s words.

The old man pointed for Cole to leave, replying, “She is pregnant Mr. Williams. And she left to go back to France. That is all I know. Now I am sorry but you must leave.”

Cole took a deep breath and nodded slowly, “I’m sorry to have caused you any trouble.”

Still struggling for words, he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked around the hotel, down to the beach, and sat under a tree for some time. Tony silently followed and sat a few feet away, waiting for Cole to process the past few minutes.

If Isabella was pregnant, she hadn’t said anything to Cole. It didn’t make any sense to him, until he thought about how she’d cried the day he left Martinique. Maybe she had hid it from him to protect him, but the thought troubled him even more. There were a lot of things Cole had screwed up, but he could not let himself ruin her life, or that of a child.

Cole took a deep breath and grit his teeth. The sun would be up in a few hours and Cole had nowhere to go as thoughts of Isabella and now of their child weighed on his mind. With Isabella gone, there was no point to any of it. He was certain she’d been hurt badly and he knew he alone bore the blame. It pained him even more than when he’d left her the first time.

Tony finally spoke up. “Cole, this isn’t what you want to hear, but has it occurred to you that she is better off without you?”

Cole was furious for a second and stared back at Tony. He felt his core tremble.

Tony continued. “I’m not trying to be an ass, Cole, but your life is a series of bad decisions right now. If she is as good as you say, you are better off leaving her alone until you can sort this thing out.”

Cole inhaled just a bit and held his breath. There was truth in what Tony was saying. Cole exhaled and said softly, “Let’s walk some more.”

Cole picked up his bag again and the two of them walked the side street over to the marina. Everywhere Cole looked he remembered her. The familiar restaurants were all closed, their waiters and bartenders having long ago finished sweeping up and putting things away for the night. Cole found a spot and sat again up against some trees with his back against his bag. He sat there for a second, then pulled it around to his side and opened it up. Inside were most of his clothes, his boots, and his hat. He tried to smile for a second at the sight of his leather boots, but any fond memories didn’t stick.

Rummaging through it some more, he pulled out one of Isabella’s shirts. It smelled like her perfume. He held it against his face and took a few deep breaths. It was all he had left of a girl who had all but changed his world. If he knew how to cry, he would have, but his emotions were far too hardened after the last year. He knew he couldn’t stay in Martinique, nor could he return to his previous life in Key West without getting David off his back.