Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series) (24 page)

“I’m still trying to trace it, but not having very much luck. He apparently had a sophisticated transfer program written that moved it from one account to another all over the world. It appeared and disappeared in more than 40 accounts in a matter of microseconds and then it just disappeared. No way to tell which one it’s currently in, without manually hacking each one to see. Wherever it is, he can make a phone call and transfer it securely.”

“And that happened an hour ago?” Deuce asked.

“Exactly when we landed here in Djibouti,” Kumar said. “What do you want us to do here?”

“Somehow he found out and h
e’s got a big head start,” Stockwell said. “He’s not in the country anymore. Deuce, make arrangements to get them back home. I’m going to send a few more of the team members down there.”

“Roger that,” Deuce said and Stockwell’s screen went blank. “Kumar, Chyrel will send you instructions for extraction shortly.”

“Make it a few hours from now, at least,” came Art’s voice over the feed. “It’s after midnight here and we haven’t slept in 16 hours.”

“Get some rest then,”
Deuce said and the screen went blank. Deuce turned to Chyrel and said, “Find a flight out of Djibouti for them around 0700 local time.”

Deuce and I walked out to the tables in front of the bunkhouses and sat down. I reached over and pulled a cold Red Stripe from the cooler. “
Beer?” I asked. He took it and I grabbed another.

“I’m going to have to postpone the wedding,” Deuce sighed.

I looked at him surprised. “Like hell you will. Jules doesn’t want anything fancy, but I can tell you for sure she’s already made a lot of arrangements that can’t be undone. You’re getting married in less than a week, man.”

He looked over at me and said, “With Smith on the loose, it’s not a good idea.”

“Deuce, describe the guest list that will be sitting on the Groom’s side.”

He thought for a moment and grinned. “I see your point. A bunch of fishermen and divers on one side, door kickers and snake eaters on the other.”

I held up my beer and he clinked the neck with his. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll all come armed. What caliber do you think will go best with my eighties leisure suit?”

He chuckled at that as Julie and Cindy came across the clearing. “I th
ink we’ll stay here a few days.”

“Now you’re talking,” I said. “Jeremy and Tony are getting tired of each other. Maybe
Stockwell will send Hinkle and Mitchel down to spice things up a bit.”

He laughed again, as we stood up and said,
“Now I’m thinking you were serious about the leisure suit.”

As the sun began its descent to the horizon
, Trent lit the grill in the big stone fireplace, Charlie brought out a huge platter of fish fillets, and Dawson returned with eight good sized slipper lobster and a bucket half full of stone crab claws. Trent had set three traps for stone crabs in the shallows west of the pier a few days earlier. We sat down to a nice supper and sat around talking about fishing as the sun began to set.

Just before dark
, I heard my phone chirp. I’d completely forgotten I still had it in my pocket. When I pulled it out, I saw that it was a Keys number and answered it.

“Jesse, this is Jared. Sorry to bother you so late.”

“No bother. Just sitting around telling sea stories with some friends. What’s up?”

“I got canned. Went in this evening to tell the boss that next Friday would be my last day and he fired me.”

“That sucks. You have enough to hold you over until next week?”

“Barely,” he said. I could tell there was something
else bothering him. I didn’t say anything, just let him get to it in his own time. “I also got tossed from my apartment. The owner came into town unexpectedly and said he’d sold the place. He’s moving all his stuff out now. It’s a furnished apartment over the garage and everything I own will fit in a sea bag, with room to spare. I guess I can ask dad if I can crash with him for a few days.”

“
Do you have a car?”

“No,
I haven’t really needed one in a year.”

“Call Lawrence,” I said. “Tell him to bring you to Old Wooden Bridge Guest Cottages, just before the bridge to No Name Key. I’ll pick you up at their marina in an hour. You’re welcome to stay here on the island until we leave for DC. I’ve got plenty of room.”

“You’d do that?”

“Hell, I’ll put you to work if it makes you feel better.”

He laughed and said, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“See you in an hour,” I said and ended the call.

“Williams?” Deuce asked.

“Yeah, his boss fired him when he gave notice. He can stay in the bunkhouse with Jeremy and Tony.”

“Who is this guy?” Tony asked.

“A Marine
I’m trying to help get back on his feet,” I said. “Got a raw deal from our friend Jason Smith a couple of years ago.”

“Well, any friend of yours,” Tony said lifting his beer.

Thirty minutes later, I was skimming across the shallows between Annette Key and the northern tip of Big Pine Key, dodging the really skinny water along The Grasses. Another five minutes later, I was entering the Marina at the Guest Cottages. I didn’t see Lawrence’s big black Ford in the parking lot, so I tied off and walked up to the boat ramp on Bogie Drive. I didn’t have to wait long before Lawrence pulled over to the curb, with his window down. As Jared opened the passenger door to get out, I slipped Lawrence a couple of twenties.

“Evenin’ Cap’n,” Lawrence said.

“This guy give you any trouble, Lawrence?”

He laughed and said, “Nutin I couldn’t handle sar.”

“I appreciate this, Gunny,” Jared said as he came around the hood pulling his wallet out.

“The fare’s covered,” I said. “You ever swing a hammer?”

“Sure. You building something?”

“I have a few projects going on. You can work it off. Boats over at the dock there.” Then I turned to Lawrence, shook his hand and thanked him.

Jared and I walked over to the dock and stepped into my skiff. “Where do you live exactly?” he asked.

“A little island ten miles north of here,” I replied. “You’ll make
eleven people on the island now, might be a few more later on. Hope you don’t mind sharing a bunkhouse with a couple of Squids.”

I started the outboard and idled out into Bogie Channel and turned north under the bridge. Once clear of the bridge, I brought the Maverick up on plane and threaded my way back home, arriving there 20 minutes later.
I clicked the unlock button on the key fob and the east side door started opening slowly and the light inside came on. I turned the skiff around and backed it under the house, between the Grady and the
Cazador.

“Damn!” Jared exclaimed. “All these boats yours?”

“All but the Grady White there. I gave it to my island caretakers. The Cigarette and the Winter here were confiscated in a drug bust.”

“Confiscated? So how is it you have them?”

“I work for the government sometimes. Most of the people here tonight do also. I’ll make a deal with you. Give me a week of hard work and I’ll pay you $1000. That should tide you over until you get to Lejeune.”

“A thousand bucks? Hell, who do I have to kill?”

Jared and I walked across the clearing toward the tables on the north side of the island. The others were still sitting around drinking beer, but someone had started a camp fire at the northeast side of the clearing. Probably to keep the mosquitoes away.

“You own this whole island?” Jared asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I bought it about six years ago and have been improving it ever since. That little house to the west is my caretaker’s home. That’s where you’ll be working. First thing in the morning, we’re going to pick up appliances and fixtures.”

As we approached the group, Deuce stood up and came out to meet us. “Hi, Jared. I’m Deuce Livingston.
I’m a friend of your dad’s.”

The two shook hands then Deuce turned to me, “We’re going to have visitors in about twenty minutes. Tony
, Carl, and Jeremy are lighting three more fires.”

Signal fires, I thought. So the chopper can see which way the wind’s blowing in the dark. “We’ll need a couple of bright flashlights,” I said.

“Already got ‘em,” Deuce replied as two whooshing sounds came from the southeast and southwest sides of the clearing at nearly the same time. Seconds later, a third fire roared to life on the northwest side. “Tony and Jeremy have them. Wind’s out of the east.”

“This is a freaking LZ!” Jared exclaimed.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Looks like we’re going to have a party tonight. Come on over to the tables and I’ll introduce you to the others.”

We walked over to where the others were
, as Tony and Dawson joined us. I said, “Everyone, this is Marine Corporal Jared Williams. Jared, you already met Commander Livingston. This is his fiancé, Coast Guard Petty Officer Julie Thurmond, these two guys are Navy Special Warfare Operator Tony Jacobs and Coast Guard Petty Officer Jeremy Dawson. That’s my caretaker, Carl Trent and this is Cindy Saturday.”

“Nice to meet you all,” he said, shaking hands all around. Then to me he asked, “I thought you said 11?”

“Carl’s wife is putting their kids to bed and Chyrel Koshinski, our CIA tech guru, is monitoring communications in the bunkhouse.”

“You’re all military and government?”

“Not me and Charlie,” Carl said. “We just look after things.”

“There’s beer in the cooler,” I said. “And probably some stone crab claws in the pot on the stove over there. Help yourself.” I could hear the whumping sound of an approaching helicopter. “Tony, you and Jeremy, come with me.”

The three of us walked over to the east side of the clearing, where I stood close to the tree line. I positioned Tony and Jeremy about ten feet from me at angles, so their flashlights wouldn’t blind me.

The chopper flew over slowly, coming out of the northeast. He noticed our fires and turned west, moving out over the water. Then he turned and came back over the trees on the west side and I said, “Hit the lights.” Both flashlights came on, illuminating me clearly for the pilot to see. I spread my arms wide, then moved my forearms up and back out to the side, signaling him forward. When he was nearly over the center, I stopped, keeping both arms fully extended out to my sides and he came to a hover. I then moved my arms downward and he began descending. When he made contact with the ground, I brought my arms all the way down and crossed them, then signaled him to cut the engine.

As the rotor blades started to slow, I heard some familiar voices. The three of us walked toward the chopper and Deuce joined us, with Jared.
Deuce made the introductions this time. “Guys, this is Corporal Jared Williams. Jared, meet fellow Marines, Staff Sergeant Scott Grayson and Sergeant Jeremiah Simpson. These other two are Special Warfare Operator First Class Donnie Hinkle and Special Warfare Operator Third Class Glenn Mitchel.”

Jared shook hands with the four men and Hinkle, the Australian, said, “Another bloody Jarhead?”

“Go put your gear in the bunkhouse, Hinkle” I said, “before I thump your ass.”

C
hyrel came out of the newly redesigned bunkhouse as we all walked over to the tables and I introduced her to Jeremy. “Deuce, the Colonel said for the chopper to spend the night and go back tomorrow. A storm is approaching Homestead. I checked it out, it won’t bother us here.”

Tony and Dawson doused the two southern fires and Carl doused the one on the west side of the bunkhouses. I told them to gather more firewood for the last fire, to ward off mosquitoes.
Carl went to the western bunkhouse to turn in and Deuce and Julie headed to the main house.

Before he left, Deuce said, “Wake me about 0200.”

“I will,” I said. “We’ll let the others get some rest. Tomorrow you can assign watches.”

The chopper pilot said he had a hammock he was going to string up in the back of the chopper
and headed that way.

“I think I’ll turn in, also,” Cindy said. “Will there be a chance to do some fishing in the morning?”

“Sure,” I said. “I don’t see why not.”

“Good night, then,” she said and headed to the
Revenge
. I walked with her, so I could get a few cases of beer from the pantry under the house. “Some of your friends look pretty scary,” she said. “Is there anything I should know about?”

“Scary to the wrong people,” I said. “These are the good guys.
You can sleep sound tonight, you’ve never been safer in your life.”

I carried three cases of beer back to the group of men standing and sitting around the fire.
As I walked past the door to the house, Deuce stepped out and handed me a thermos and a mug.

“See you at 0200,” he said and went back inside.

When I got back to the group, Chyrel said she was going back inside to monitor the storm and would turn in soon. Carl brought out another large cooler full of ice, anticipating we might need it and I put the warm Red Stripe bottles in it. The other one still held a case and I carried it over to the fire.

“Beer light’s lit, gentlemen,”
I said. I knew what would happen next as everyone reached into the cooler. It happens all over the world, whenever military people meet up.

“So Jared,” Grayson said. “What’s your MOS?”

“Was,” he said. “Maybe again soon. I was 0317. You?”

MOS is the acronym for Military Occupational Specialty. Almost always the first question two military people ask when they meet. That, and ‘Where are you from?’

Grayson and Simpson looked over at me then back at Jared. “Sniper, huh? Germ and me are 8024, Combat Divers. The two Squids there are SEAL snipers. Jacobs is a SEAL EOD specialist and Dawson is Coast Guard Maritime Enforcement, same as Julie. Where’d you serve?”

“
Lejeune mostly,” he replied. “Did two tours in Iraq. What about the Commander and you, Jesse?”

“Same as you,” I replied.

“You going to join our little club here, mate?” Hinkle asked. “Seems we’re already a might heavy on long guns.”

“He’s going back to the Corps,” I said. “For now, anyway.”

“What about that other lady, Cindy?” Jared asked.

“Non-combatant,” I said. “She’s here on vacation from
Oregon to do some fishing.”

“So all you guys are some kind of special team with the government?”

“Department of Homeland Security,” Mitchel said.

“Caribbean Counter-Terrorism Command,” Simpson added. “Deuce is the team leader
, he used to be Tony’s SEAL Team CO. His boss is an Army Colonel. The Colonel’s boss is the Secretary of Homeland Security, who answers to the President.”

“
Tight chain of command. Wait, terrorists in the Caribbean?” Jared asked.

“It’s a growing threat,” Simpson said. “That’s why our team was created.”

“So, the Commander is okay with first names?”

Tony took that one, knowing Deuce longer than anyone here. “When we’re around other officers we call him Commander, but when he’s with the team, he prefers Deuce. Real name’s Russell Livingston, Junior.”

“Deuce,” Jared said. “I get it.”

“Best officer I’ve ever known. He was just a Lieutenant when I met him. One of those officers that never had a problem learning from their non-coms.
We had a Master Chief that took Deuce under his wing and brought out the natural leader. Always look for those kind of officers.”

“You have any confirms
while you were in Iraq?” Hinkle asked.

Jared looked at me and I nodded slightly. “Yeah,” he said. “Eight on my first tour and four on my second.”

“Blimey! What range, mate?”

“Nothing really long,” he said. “About a thousand yards was the longest.
Most were under 600.”

“Damn,” said Grayson. “That’s near as long as the Gunny’s shot in the Mog.”

“Mogadishu?” Jared asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Ancient history.”

“Maybe,” Simpson said. “But it’s still talked about today, 13 years later. The Gunny here made a 1200 yard shot at a moving target. A warlord that was beating a kid. Stuff of legend.”

“How come you got out, Jared?” Grayson asked. That was the million dollar question. I knew it would come up and wond
ered how Jared would handle it. He just lost the only person he could talk to about his demons. Now he was sitting by a fire in the middle of nowhere with seven others who each had their own demons to wrestle. In my experience, warriors were more at ease talking about their psychological problems around others that had the same.

He looked around the fire at the six men looking at him, firelight playing across their features. Then he looked at me. I could see the panic
and fear in his eyes. I reached into the cooler and handed him another beer. He opened it and took a long pull on the bottle. “I was on my second tour and just a few months away from reenlisting. Me and my spotter found a high value target north of Ashraf, the nine of diamonds. This was almost two years ago. It was a pretty easy shot, a bit long at a little over 900 yards and slightly downhill, but the air was dry and no wind at all.”

Hinkle and Mitchel nodded, affirming that while it was a long shot, it was under ideal weather conditions.
“The target was stationary. Sitting in a chair, reading. We got confirmation of identity and clearance to engage. A second after the round left the muzzle, his kid stepped in front of him. She was only eight years old.” He said this last part as he looked down into the flames. “I was accused of killing her intentionally by some CIA spook and got a dishonorable.”

“Damn,” Tony said.
The others just stared at Jared.

After a moment
, Hinkle, who was sitting closest to Jared, reached over and put a firm hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Not your fault, mate. Sometimes shit just happens.”

There was a chorus of agreements and Hinkle
added, “We look though that spyglass and we see everything. We can count the nose hairs sticking out of a bloke’s nostrils. But it’s tunnel vision, mate. We have the power of life and death over the dinks in the reticles. It’s something we all have to carry. We can help ya carry it, mate.”

Tony sat down cross legged on the ground. “My second tour in Afghanistan,” he start
ed as he stared into the flames, “a kid walked up to me as I was dismantling an IED. Just came out of nowhere. The IED was already diffused anyway, so I guess nobody thought it a problem. The kid had tears running down his cheeks. Couldn’t have been more than 8 or 9. He held out his hand and he had a grenade in it. I could see that the pin was already pulled. Without saying a word, he just dropped it in the hole with the IED. It was a 155 round. I was wearing an explosive suit and dove across a berm into a hole, while I shouted a warning. The grenade went off, setting off the artillery round. The kid’s bloody sandals were left right where he was standing. There wasn’t anything else, though. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on that kid’s face.” Tony looked across the fire at Jared, moisture in both their eyes.

“
Your CIA spook brings us full circle, Jared,” I said changing the subject. “All of you are here tonight because of him.”

Jared looked up at me quickly, followed by twelve more eyes
. I continued, “It’s been determined that the guy Jared was talking about used undue political and financial influence to have him court martialed. He did that because Jared nearly beat him to death for insinuating he killed the girl on purpose. I’m taking Jared to DC to meet with the SecNav and have his dishonorable overturned. It’s a done deal. He’ll be back in uniform by next Monday. The CIA spook Jared beat up was none other than Jason Smith.” As Jared continued to stare at me, all the others started talking at once, asking questions.

“
Jared, after his assignment in Ashraf, Smith was tapped to head up and create a special team of highly skilled operators to counter a growing threat in the Caribbean. This team. Last winter he pissed off one too many people with his political ambitions and was replaced by an Army Colonel named Travis Stockwell. It was Stockwell that put the ball in motion to have your dishonorable overturned. With a little prodding from me, Deuce and Owen Tankersley.”

“Owen ‘they thought I knew where the mines were’ Tankersley?”
Grayson asked.