Wood's Wall (21 page)

He grabbed the truck keys, took the computer under his arm, and went after them.

35

Cesar went to the bait shack alone, thankful for a couple of hours away from the terrorist. Ibrahim had taken the police SUV and gone back to Key West to pick up equipment to test the material. They’d been fooled once, and he had no intention of allowing that again. The story the Cajun had told about Mac being lost was not sitting well with him, either. In fact, this whole operation was upsetting his stomach. The yard was dark as he went to the bait shack, lit only by a few security lights. He debated whether to turn on the light in the bait shack or use the darkness as cover to surprise them. Then his military training kicked in. He turned on a single bulb and left the building, leaving the door slightly ajar and moving around the side to hide behind some traps. He checked his watch and waited. His quarry was coming to him, and when they got there he’d be ready.

***

Trufante nosed the boat to the dock, scraping the bow against the decaying boards. The old boards gave way instead of the fiberglass on the boat, and he and Jeff hopped onto the dock and tied off the boat. 

“Dude, y’all ought to stay with the boat. Just in case we need to get out of here, ya know? He’s expecting me, but doesn’t know about the two of you. Probably ought to leave her running. There’s no one here to hear the engine,” Trufante said quietly as he looked around. He didn’t want any interference from these two. His youth had been spent stalking creatures in the bayou. This would be no different. 

“I’m going with you. Someone needs to protect our interests here,” Jeff said.

He thought about the request and agreed. Two men would be better than one if it came to a fight. “Stay back, then. Y’all got any kind of weapons on this rig?” Trufante looked around the boat. “Hand me that gaff. The speargun wouldn’t hurt, either.”

Jeff took the speargun from Pete and pulled the bands back to load the weapon. Spearguns were efficient at close range in the water, but were even more deadly on land. Without the resistance of the water to temper the speed of the spear as it was released, it could penetrate bone at close range. The gaff was handed up to Trufante. It made for an awkward weapon, but was the best he had.

***

Cesar was watching the road when he heard the crunch of gravel. He glanced from behind the trap pile he was using as cover out into the yard, listening and watching, and heard it again, surprised that it came from the direction of the dock. A smile crossed his face - they would never suspect this. If he had remained in the bait shack they could have taken him by surprise. He quietly moved to the other side of the stack which provided a better view. Two figures came into view, both holding what looked like sticks. Gun removed from his waistband, he leveled it and released the safety. 

They approached the shack and paused before opening the door. He’d anticipated this, and took the opportunity to release from his stance, coming to stand behind them now, unnoticed. 

“Put the stick down, Cajun. You too.” He motioned to the men, as they dropped their weapons, to go inside. Gun drawn he followed, kicking their weapons to the side as he entered behind them. The taller man was looking at the chum machine and he grinned. “Bring back some memories, Cajun? Don’t worry, my friend is not here. Where is the box?”

“You can slow your ass down there. You can have your box, but we want the women first.”

“Who are you to give me orders? You’re sounding a little too brave, Cajun.”

“You bastard.” Jeff moved forward.

Cesar reacted immediately and shot at the floorboards. “Don’t think you’re important,
gringo
. Yes, I remember you. You are supposed to have some money for me as well.”

Trufante had to hold Jeff back. He was becoming hysterical. “You killed her! You didn’t even wait the twenty-four hours you gave me, you just killed both of them!”

“My deepest regrets about that. Sometimes things do not work out as one plans.” He looked at Trufante. “Where is the box? I do not have the patience to ask again.”

“I don’t have it. It’s on a boat circling out in the harbor, waiting for my signal.” Trufante said. “The driver has the DEA on speed dial. I’m sure they would like to have a talk with you. Me, though, I believe in our relationship, and my friend here is looking for some restitution for his wife.”

“Restitution? You idiot. You don’t even know what it means.” He pointed the gun at Trufante.

“It means we’re not giving you the material without the release of the women and half the coke. That leaves you enough to break even on this whole deal and get the turban heads off your back. You get out with your skin. We get a little something for our trouble, and the girls go free.”

Cesar watched the men, wondering how Trufante had all of a sudden grown some
huevos
. He decided to play it cool. Maybe there was something going on that he didn’t know about. “Ok, Cajun. I see your point. How do you propose we make this exchange? I do not have the drugs with me.”

“Easy, then. We meet at your house in Key West in two hours. That would be midnight. Have the girls there, and I’ll leave the authorities out of it.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Cesar asked. 

Trufante waved his bandaged finger at him. “Respect.” With that, Trufante and Jeff walked out, picking up the speargun and gaff on the way.

***

“Well?” Pete asked, anxious to know what had happened.

“Hurry! Get out of here before he changes his mind.” Trufante yelled. He went forward to untie the line. 

Pete quickly put the boat in reverse, not waiting for Trufante’s signal. He heard a scream as Trufante’s finger caught in the knot as he backed. Seconds later the cleat tore from the rotting dock. He steered the boat towards the channel. 

“OK. We’re clear. So what happened?” Pete asked. 

“I’ll tell you on the way. We go back to your place, grab a vehicle, and head to Key West. He’s going to make the trade there.”

“You really going to trust that piece of shit?” Jeff asked.

“Hell no, but down there we got a couple of things going for us. It’s better to meet in a crowded neighborhood than this place,” he waved his finger at the yard. Hopefully the drive will calm him down and he’ll just make the exchange.”“What about the coke?”

“Bonus if it works out, but let’s focus on getting the women.” Trufante said.

***

The twelve-seat propeller plane touched down at Key West International and taxied to a stop. The pilot cut the port engine and signaled for the flight attendant to drop the door. Mist sprayed from the AC vents as the conditioned air met the humid night. The passengers rose, jockeying for position to exit, all wanting to be the first to hit Duval Street and start their vacations. 

Garcia waited in his seat for the aisle to clear, then rose and exited the craft, thanking the flight attendant and pilot on his way out the door. He followed the rest of the passengers into the terminal, then went straight for the exit. A black SUV pulled up, slowing slightly as he opened the door and hopped in. 

“Thanks, man, owe you one,” he said to the driver.

“Good to see you again,” the driver answered.

“Were you able to bring the laptop?”

“You got it.” He nodded over his shoulder at the briefcase in the back seat. “A FISA warrant opens all the doors. Who are we after?” the local FBI agent asked.

“Some guy name of Mac Travis. They’re thinking he’s tied up in some terrorist action, with some Mexicans. Ask me, it looks like smuggling, but who am I to question?”

“You got that right, brother.”

Garcia reached for the briefcase and opened it on his lap. The military-grade laptop inside whirled to life, and he started pecking out commands as the SUV left the airport and headed onto US1.

36

Mel and Jules rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, assembling enough ingredients to make a meal while Jose sat at the bar, his gun resting on the counter. She was glad Cesar had left - and the crazy factor with him. Jose seemed much calmer without his boss breathing down his neck.

“You know, you let us walk, I’ll cut a deal for you. No jail. Maybe probation.” Jules gave her best pitch.

Jose just nodded. He rarely talked, and she wondered if it was a language thing. “
Usted sabe, usted nos deja caminar, voy a hacer un trato para usted. No la cárcel. Tal vez la libertad condicional.
” His look remained the same. 

“No use. He understands. Actually pretty smart not to talk to us.” Jules said.

Jose remained seated, drinking from a bottle of water. 

This was their best chance to escape. The Middle Eastern man and Cesar had left. They couldn’t overpower Jose, but there might be another way. Jules brushed up against her, trying to get her attention. “Keep him busy. I’ve got an idea.” 

Mel nodded, and Jules turned to Jose. “
El bano, por favor.
” 

Jose nodded to Jules, allowing permission. There were two bathrooms near the kitchen. She chose the powder room off the living room, hoping it would have a window visible from the street. Once inside, she turned on the light and checked the window. It slid up, revealing the handle on the hurricane shutter. She gently eased the shutter open, jumping as it creaked in its track. Escaping by herself was not really an option, as it might cost Mel her life, but this could be their way out. She looked for something to block the light under the door, but the towels were all small hand towels, the drapes translucent. It took her a long minute to realize that she was standing on a rug that would work. She moved aside, rolled it up, and pushed it against the door. It was more rigid than she had hoped, but she had no options.

Hoping Mel would buy her some time, she started flicking the light switch. The chances of anyone seeing her were minimal, but she had to try.
Dot - Dot - Dot - Dash - Dash - Dash - Dot - Dot - Dot.
She repeated the Morse code distress signal over and over, trying not to rush. 

Then the butt of the gun struck the door, and she knew her time was up. “Just a second!” she called out. She turned off the light, set the rug back in place, then closed the shutter and window. One last look around to make sure the room looked the same, and she exhaled and opened the door.

Jose lowered the gun as she slithered her way around him, doing her best to look natural. He looked in the room and turned to her.

“Mujeres,”
was all he said. 

***

The lobby of the sheriff’s office was empty as well, the desk behind the plexiglass barrier vacant. Mac called out for help and started to pace the floor. He was about to yell out again when a woman appeared. 

“Can I help you?” she asked through the speaker phone.

“Yeah. Name’s Mac Travis. You’re missing your sheriff and she’s with my girlfriend.” 

The woman glanced at him, her face registering understanding, and he knew he had her. “Hold on, I’ll buzz you through,” she muttered.

Mac grabbed the handle and met resistance until the buzzer went off. He entered the working part of the station, which was as deserted as the front, and glanced around. “This place looks like a ghost town.”

“They’re all out looking for the sheriff. I’m Heather. I do the crime scene stuff here when they have something for me.” She looked at Mac again. “Coffee?”

“That’d be great, but I need some help. Quickly. Can you find a deputy for me?” Mac said.

“I’m all you’ve got. Jules is my friend, though, and if she’s in trouble I’ll do anything to find her.”

“Crime scene stuff? You know how to track cell phones?” He asked. His computer had stopped tracking as soon as the WiFi signal from his house was lost. With nowhere else to turn he had come here.

“I can do that. You need a court order for that, though.”