Caribbean's Keeper (35 page)

David would kill him at the first chance, of that much Cole was certain. He didn’t want to think of what David might do to Isabella. He put the shirt back in his bag and looked out across the marina. The boats were mostly dark, with a few still showing a dim light in their cabins. On the far side of the marina, he saw two guys his age loading a sailboat from two pushcarts parked on the pier next to it.

It was almost one in the morning. Cole watched the two of them for some time as they loaded bags of groceries and filled the water tanks from a hose on the pier. Tony had walked off at one point and made a slow lap around the marina to give Cole some time alone. After half an hour, Cole watched both men pull the hatch closed and one of them reached down to fire up the engine. They ran it for a few minutes then cut it. Cole watched intently as one of them set the key in a cup holder next to the helm. They walked the deck once more and, satisfied that the boat was secure, both hopped over to the pier and walked away.

It was most likely a chartered sailboat for a week. In the morning, some family would arrive from the States or Europe and spend the week sailing around the islands. The two guys onboard were the crew who would do the legwork. In the Caribbean, chartered boats like that were good business. For a few thousand dollars, it was an easy and exciting way to cruise the islands. Cole pieced a plan together in his head. Across the marina sat a fully provisioned sailboat. The crew was off to get their last night of sleep before setting sail for a week. Cole looked around at the cafes and restaurants that were all dark for the night. Except for Cole and Tony, the marina was quiet. He instinctively began to connect the dots.

Tony walked back towards Cole, but said nothing for a minute or two. He looked across the marina at the same sailboat Cole was focused on. Finally he grinned and spoke up to break the silence.

“Cole, don’t tell me you’re thinking of stealing that sailboat.”

Tony was spot on. Cole was surprised that he’d been read so well. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

Tony shook his head and looked across the marina at the sailboat. He laughed out loud. “It just fits you. It’s exactly what I would expect from the kid who rolled into my office as a soaking shit sandwich. You’re a cowboy and I’ll say it again—she is better off without you right now. There’s hope for you yet, Cole, but you’re not there right now.”

Cole looked down at the ground and accepted Tony’s advice. It was true after all. It was in Cole’s nature to be an outlaw. That cavalier attitude had gotten him kicked out of the Coast Guard. It had also made him one hell of a smuggler, but at the same time had nearly cost him his life. As hard as it was to admit, there was blood on his hands as well. It had all led him to Isabella, but at the same time his life had led him to one too many bad decisions.

Tony extended his hand to Cole, helping him up. “Let’s go find a hotel for the night. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

Cole nodded and slung his bag over his shoulder once more. In a way, it felt as if he was giving up.

Tony asked, “Am I going to have to put you in handcuffs?”

Cole smiled a bit and shook his head. “No Tony. I’m done running.”

Chapter 17 – Para Bellum

TONY AND COLE BOARDED the King Air the next morning and flew back to Key West. Cole spent much of the flight staring out of his window at the Caribbean below. They flew over the same waters where Cole’s year of bad decisions had come to a head. Somewhere below the blue water sat the remains of his last Go-Fast and the body of man he didn’t know but for whose death he bore responsibility. Unlike the shootout in Panama, Cole felt genuine remorse for the stoner who had died when he burned the boat. And on the other end of the Caribbean were the corpses of a husband and wife buried in shallow grave with not so much as a stone to mark their final resting place. And somewhere further south and east sat the remains of Murph’s plane, probably littering the side of some unnamed valley in Venezuela. It was difficult for Cole to let go of Isabella, but in the face of so much death and so many mistakes, it was in fact best for Cole to leave her alone.

In France she would be safer than in Martinique. And it seemed as though David had no trouble keeping tabs on Cole’s movements. If Cole left her alone, she was that much further removed from the danger Cole had put her in. He hated the thought of abandoning her, especially if she was pregnant, but as painful as it was, Cole knew for once he was making the smarter choice. So many of Cole’s decisions were made in the moment and he rarely thought beyond the matter at hand. While his life was his own to ruin, Cole knew he had inadvertently brought down others with him. Moreover, the drug smuggling was not simply a risk or an adventure he bore alone, but rather a cancer that had spread through all of North, Central, and South America. He’d had enough.

g

Back in Key West, Tony put Cole in touch with a few more guys from JIATF-S. Over the course of a week, they gave Cole a crash course in the counter-narcotics game. Cole was up and running each morning with the sun and each day ended around sunset, having spent the majority of the day either in the command center or in the various offices at JIATF-S, learning the trade. He understood more about the structure of the cartels than he ever knew while working for them and the plan Tony had in his mind began to take shape.

They monitored David’s phone 24 hours a day, and twice that week David had called the same blocked number. Each time he ended a call, there was flurry of activity among David’s contacts. The entire staff in the command center speculated as to who was on the other end and how David and his unknown partner were able to encrypt the calls.

After the second call that week, Tony looked at Cole and pointed at the computer monitors, saying, “That’s our ticket, right there.”

Cole sat back in his chair, asking, “What is?”

Tony grinned. The rest of the team was frustrated by it all, but not Tony. If anything, the added challenge of cracking David’s contact energized Tony like nothing else. “The only reason they’d go through the trouble of encrypting a line like this is if the guy on the other end is a big deal. We’re going to get that phone and it’s going to take us straight to the top. David doesn’t know it, but he’s giving away more than he thinks.”

Cole was impressed with Tony’s drive. “So, how do we get the phone?”

Tony took a deep breath, looked at Cole, and replied, “You’re going to get it for us.”

Cole said nothing. He was reminded of Tony’s earlier comments about going back to Panama. Now it was clear. Everything up to this point had been part of Tony’s larger goal of cutting off the head of the snake. Taking down lieutenants and guys like David had an impact, but not one the size Tony was looking for. If they were able to go over the top of all of them and bring down the boss, it would throw the cartel into disarray, at least for the time being.

Cole asked, “So what happens if we get this guy?”

Tony stopped what he was doing and explained, “When you take out leadership, the cartel will fall apart for a period of time. They won’t move as much and they won’t produce as much, because they’ll be busy killing each other while someone tries to reestablish leadership. We target the top and prosecute them if we can. It sends a message, but it also has an immediate impact on the flow of drugs.”

Cole nodded and thought about the risks and the rewards.

Tony walked over to Cole and sat in a chair next to him. “If we do this, it’s a home run, Cole.”

“So what do you need from me?”

Tony pointed at the desk with a phone. “It’s time to call David again. See if you can set up a meeting.”

Cole walked over and sat down, dialing David’s number once more. When he answered, David sounded like his usual self. Cole kept his composure and the two talked for a minute before Cole got to the meat of the conversation.

“David, I’m sick of waiting. I’m coming back down to Panama.”

David laughed and agreed to meet with him. “My friend, it’s been a while since we’ve had a drink. Why don’t you let me know when you’re back in town and we can catch up.”

Cole agreed and hung up the phone, turning to Tony.

Tony nodded, “Well done.”

Cole leaned back in the chair and wiped his face with his hands for a second, then dropped them both back in his lap. “I guess I need a plane ticket.”

Tony let out a half-smile and nodded. “Yeah, I think we can make that happen.”

He walked over to another phone in the command center and made a few calls. While Tony was busy, Cole took the time to explore his thoughts. David and his cartel were not going to let go of Cole so easily. They had tracked him since the beginning and as much as Cole had thought of himself as a buccaneer of sorts, the truth was he’d been a pawn. Murph’s death, the old couple, the drive-by in Panama City, and the guy on the boat were all casualties of a war that included Cole. Some were collateral damage, while others were simply targets from the beginning.

Cole knew his time was running out. He could feel it, even from Key West. The right thing to do, as hard as it was, was to try to end it. If Tony was correct, and David’s phone was the key to tackling the cartel, Cole was the right guy for the job. He had the contacts, the access, and the know-how to get close to David without too much suspicion. At the same time, Cole knew he had a target on his head.

He thought back to Isabella. If the cartel was shaken up enough, Cole could slip through the cracks and distance himself enough to resume a normal life, hopefully with Isabella. If not, he would end up dead in a ditch like so many others like him. It was a risk he was now willing to take, not so much for the adventure, but rather for some justice.

g

Later that afternoon, Tony took Cole out for lunch. They ate at El Siboney again and in a quiet corner of the restaurant, and over a few beers, Tony laid out a plan.

“You’ll meet David by yourself—somewhere public. Don’t do anything out of the ordinary. Get him talking, have a beer, and just keep him close to you. ”

Cole suggested Habanas.

Tony nodded, “Yeah, perfect. That will work.” Taking another sip of his beer, he continued, “I’ve got a team that will be watching you the whole time. They’re some rough dudes, and they’ll have your back from the second you land until we get you out of there. I’ll be down there along with a few others, but you’ll be moving on your own. OK?”

“Yeah, got it. Can I meet these guys?”

“No, it’s better if you don’t spot them. Your movements will be normal that way. Trust me; we’ll keep you safe. When the time is right, you’ll know it. My guys will move in, grab him, and we’ll move with a purpose to get the hell out of town.”

Cole was silent for a moment, taking a long sip from his Dos Equis, before asking the fateful question, “So when do we leave?”

Tony laughed and replied, “We leave tonight, but you will leave tomorrow morning. We’ll see you again once you’re down there.”

g

After parting ways at El Siboney, Cole walked the streets of Key West by himself for the better part of the evening. Cole knew there was a chance it would be his last night on the town. It occurred to him to drink his face off one last time, but over the past two weeks Cole had lost much of the urge to do so. Instead, he meandered down to the boardwalk and then over to Mallory Square one last time. Looking out at Sunset Key and further north to Wisteria Island, Cole smiled as he remembered his first days off of
Delaney
and how he’d stood in the same spot, wondering what the future held in store for him.

g

Waking early the next morning, Cole went out for the run he’d gone on so many times before. He made it over to the airport and ran hard until his lungs were close to giving out. By mid-morning, he was showered and cleaned up, ready for the flight to Panama City. He wore his boots with a faded pair of jeans, figuring that he would do well to look the part. He had a small bag with him and carried little more than one spare change of clothes. There was no telling what was in store for him beyond a day anyhow.

At the airport, Cole remembered his last flight to Panama, and how he’d almost turned the whole thing off in the same terminal he stood in now. By the time Cole boarded the small commuter jet and the plane had climbed out over the Keys, he’d run the full gamut of emotions, realizing that his life would be far different had he listened to Mickey’s advice. At the same time, he never would have met Isabella. His time in Martinique had made so much of the past year’s troubles worth something. She gave his life some meaning.

With another connection in Dallas, Cole settled into his seat as the plane climbed up and flew south towards Panama City. He managed to sleep for most of the flight. It was late afternoon when the plane touched down, and as he walked through the familiar terminal to the line of cabs outside, Cole stopped briefly at an ATM and withdrew 500 dollars. Once outside, he dialed Tony.

Picking up quickly, Tony asked, “Everything good?”

Cole replied, “Yeah, I’m on my way to Habanas. I’ll call David in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good, Cole.” Tony sounded calm. “We’re all set on this end. If things get out of control, lock both your hands together behind your head like you’re stretching. Otherwise, just keep David there and wait for us to move on him.”

“Got it. See you in a bit.”

Signaling for a cab, Cole sat in the back and called out to the driver, “Habanas.”

The driver laughed and grinned, looking at Cole through the rear-view mirrors. “Si, many pretty ladies,
mi amigo
.”

Cole couldn’t help but smile. He wondered once more about Maria. By now, she was most certainly back in Colombia.

The driver once again grinned at Cole, saying, “
Las chicas
.”

Cole took a deep breath and nodded, repeating the driver’s words, “
Si, las chicas
.”

Cole dialed David as the cab drove west towards downtown. David answered, “Cole, how the hell are you, my friend. Are you in town?”

“Yeah, driving into town now. I’ll be at Habanas in an hour or so.”