Читать книгу Scorpion Strike - John Gilstrap - Страница 14

CHAPTER 8

THE INVADERS’ BOAT, IT TURNED OUT, WAS MORE PROPERLY CLASSIFIED a ship. Jonathan wasn’t much of an expert on things that floated, but to his eye, this vessel looked like a retired minesweeper. He couldn’t see the flag on the fantail from this angle, but under the circumstances, he wouldn’t trust the declared registry, anyway. As far as he was concerned, they might as well be flying the Jolly Roger.

“Wow,” Gail whispered. “That’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be.”

High at the bow and low at the stern, this vessel was capable of carrying significant cargo. “Me too,” Jonathan agreed. “That thing is designed to float more than just troops.”

“Like what, do you think?”

“Let’s think about that. How many commodities are worth the expense of transporting a small army?”

“Drugs?” Gail guessed.

“It’d take a shit ton of drugs to fill the hold on that ship.”

“Gold, then?”

“I vote weapons,” Jonathan said.

Gail looked at him, clearly waiting for more. “Because high-end resorts are famous for attracting gunrunners?”

“I just can’t think of any other terrorist-worthy cargo that would require that much boat.”

A long silence followed in which Jonathan could feel Gail’s glare. “You’re staring at me,” he said.

“Are we going to board that ship?” she asked.

“Can you think of a better way to gather intel?”

Gail sighed. “Unfortunately, no. Doing nothing really isn’t a viable plan, is it?”

“Die hiding or win fighting,” Jonathan said.

Gail knew better than to offer up the obvious third option—die fighting. First, it was head space where Jonathan was famously reticent to go. Second, there was no denying that dying while fighting was demonstrably better than dying while curled up in a ball, begging for your life.

“Have you ever taken down a ship before?” she asked.

“I’ve trained for it.”

“Dare I ask how big the assault force was?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

She waited.

“Twenty-three,” he said with a chuckle. “But the scenarios were all about a vessel at sea with a full complement of bad guys. This ship is, like, parked.”

“I believe the term is moored. Or maybe berthed.”

Jonathan gave her a long look, and then reached out for her hand. “We joke about this, but it’s serious shit. Are you really up for it?”

“Is there a choice?”

“Don’t do that,” Jonathan said. “I’m not in charge. I don’t want to push you beyond—”

“Whoa, cowboy,” Gail said, covering his hand with her own. “I wasn’t being passive-aggressive. I really don’t think we have a choice. ‘Win fighting,’ right?”

He covered her hand, too. Hands all in. “You know, this is not the trip I planned.”

“Glad to hear that,” she said. “Otherwise, there’d be some serious counseling in your future.”

* * *

“This Scorpion guy,” Hunter said. “You know that’s not his real name, right? His real name is Digger. Who said he was in charge?”

Tyler had spent countless days and nights dealing with boundless egos and senses of entitlement, but Hunter and Lori were of a class all their own. “They seem to know what they’re doing,” he said.

“Having guns doesn’t make you an expert in anything,” Lori said.

“How’d they get their guns?” Jaime asked.

“By killing their previous owners,” Tyler said. “With knives, right?”

“Suppose they find the terrorists’ boat and sail away without us?” Hunter said. “The only way to be sure that doesn’t happen is to be there with them.”

“They’re gonna pick a fight with the people on the boat,” Tyler said, “and the people on the boat are going to fight back. I don’t want anything to do with that.”

“They left us defenseless,” Lori said. “Suppose the terrorists come here and find us—”

“They won’t,” Jaime said. “No one knows of this place.”

“No one knows of this island,” Hunter said. “Yet here we are being invaded. Whoever these people are, they seem to know a lot, whether you think they should know it or not. If they do figure out that this shantytown is here, and they do come to clear it out, we’ll be doomed. Scorpion and Gunslinger—and what stupid names those are—care more about themselves than about us. Why else would they leave us unprotected and insist on going ahead without us?”

“Maybe when you kill your own terrorist, you can keep the gun,” Tyler said.

Hunter didn’t seem to hear. “I think we need to catch up with them,” he said. “I don’t want to get left behind.”

Tyler evaluated everyone’s reaction to be within the same sleeve as his own: “Are you out of your mind?”

“What?” Hunter said. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do you want to be abandoned? If we follow them, we have a chance to get off this island. We have a chance to save our lives.”

“I’m staying here,” Tyler said, and he wanted there to be no doubt about his commitment. “Rattlesnake and Straight Shooter—whatever the hell their names are—are out looking for a fight. I am the very opposite of that. I am proud to declare myself a devout coward.”

“That’s not true,” Jaime said. “You dared to escape.”

Tyler accepted the kind words with a nod. The fact that he left Annie behind was a big asterisk on that particular act of bravery.

“You,” Hunter said. “Jamie, is it?”

“Jaime.”

“Right. Jaime. How did you get up here? Do you have a golf cart, too?”

Jaime looked to Tyler, who said nothing. He knew that Jaime had his own personal transportation, but that was not for him to reveal or conceal.

“I do,” Jaime said. Tyler didn’t think his friend was capable of telling a lie, but this seemed like a good time to start.

“Let me borrow it,” Hunter said.

Jaime pointed to a spot beyond and behind the restored hut. “It’s back there,” he said. “But I think you’re making a huge mistake.”

“And why is that?”

“Because we’re safe here, at least for now. People with guns are already looking for us. Why would you deliberately piss off the only armed friends we have on the island?”

“Listen to them,” Lori said. “I think they may be right.”

Hunter’s mouth set in a thin line. “Look, I don’t like this guy. I don’t trust him. We’ve already caught him in lie after lie. Why should we trust him now?”

“Because he saved your life?” Tyler offered.

“No,” Hunter said. “Even that’s a lie. He saved his own life. We were just there. And he wasn’t happy about it.”

“So, what is your plan?” Jaime pressed. “You follow them and find them without getting caught or getting shot. Then what? It seems to me that you’ll only get in the way of whatever they’re trying to do.”

“That’s the part I want to know,” Hunter said. “That’s the part I don’t trust.” He turned to Lori. “Are you coming with me or staying with them?”

Tyler felt sorry for her. She looked like she wanted to stay, but she stepped off with Hunter.

“What about you two?” Hunter said.

“I think I will stay here,” Jaime said.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Tyler replied.

“We won’t wait for you, you know,” Hunter warned. “If we get the opportunity to sail away, we’re gone. No looking back.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned on his heel and led Lori into the darkness behind the shed.

“Not a lovable guy,” Jaime said.

Tyler coughed out a laugh. “Yeah, no shit.”

* * *

Venice’s computer dinged with an incoming message at the precise moment Boxers slammed his way into the Cave and strode into the War Room. “What do we know?” he said. If he saw Dom sitting in the chair nearest the door, he made no indication.

“And good morning to you, too,” Venice said. After one look at Big Guy, she abandoned her effort to lighten the moment. He was amped and in no mood for small talk. “We know they’re healthy, and we know that their island resort is under assault.”

Her telephone rang. She looked at the caller ID. “And we know he’s on the phone.” She pressed the speaker button. “Hello, Scorpion. I’m here with our Special Friend and Big Guy.” It was a long-standing tradition to avoid the use of real names when dealing with any aspect of the business that might involve shooting. Special Friend was the unofficial covert handle for Father Dom.

“The hell’s goin’ on down there, Boss?” Boxers said.

“Still trying to figure that out, Big Guy. I apologize to the entire world for interrupting your ever-critical beauty sleep.”

“At least you’ve got a few thousand miles of separation,” Dom quipped.

“Yeah, ha, ha,” Boxers said. “But seriously.”

“Mother Hen, I just sent you a picture of the ship that transported our bad guys to the island. I’ll take whatever you can figure out, as quickly as you can figure it out.”

“You got a plan?” Boxers asked. His body language screamed that he was ready for a fight.

“Sort of,” Jonathan said. “Gunslinger and I are going to board the vessel and see what we can see.”

The big screen at the end of the conference table lit up with the picture Jonathan had sent. According to the bow markings, they were looking at the Olympia 3, and the flag of registry was from Denmark.

“You’re being invaded by Danes?” Boxers said with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t trust any of the official markings,” Jonathan said. “We want to get on board and out in as little time as possible, so if you can somehow give me an idea of the layout, that would make things a lot simpler. Personally, I think it’s some kind of old minesweeping ship.”

“Got it,” Venice said. The big screen danced again, and now the display showed a black-and-white twin of the ship in Jonathan’s message. “It appears to be a YMS Class minesweeper, circa early 1950s.”

“How did you do that?” Jonathan asked. Off-mic, they could hear him relaying to Gail that Venice had already identified the type of boat.

“There’s a thing called the Internet,” Venice said as she continued to type. “It’s searchable and they’ve got pictures and everything.”

“What are you going to be looking for?” Boxers asked.

“Whatever we can find. I want to know who we’re up against.”

“Pretty high-risk fishing trip,” Boxers said.

“I don’t know that it is,” Jonathan said. “There doesn’t seem to be a security contingent around the ship. I can’t imagine that to be the case, but whatever they’ve left behind is a small crew. The bulk of their forces are deployed guarding guests and whatever else they’re doing back at the resort.”

“That sounds like there’s some distance between you and them,” Dom said.

The screen at the end of the table changed again, and there was an annotated aerial photo of the Crystal Sands Resort, courtesy of the island’s publicity department. “I just pulled up a map of your resort,” Venice said. “I presume you’re down at the piers?”

“Exactly.”

The island was roughly the shape of the letter C, oriented with the open part facing south. Beaches surrounded the entire landmass, with lowlands at the east and western ends, and hills in the middle. The piers were located on the easternmost side, with the resort structures on the western side.

“Boss, I gotta tell you that I think it’s a mistake to try to take down a vessel that size by yourself.”

“First of all, I’ve got Gunslinger with me, and second, I’m not going to take it down. We’re going to get in and out and gather some intel.”

“How about you just hunker down and wait for the cavalry?” Boxers suggested.

“Easier said than done,” Venice said. That drew the attention of everyone in the room. “Our Special Friend arranged for me to have a chat with Wolverine a little while ago. The Crystal Sands Island is privately held, but it is loosely a possession of Costa Rica.”

“So, the FBI has no jurisdiction,” Jonathan said, jumping ahead.

“It’s even more complicated than that,” Venice said. “Costa Rica is one of just a handful of countries on the planet without a military. Even if they wanted to come and get you, they’d have no forces to do it with.”

When she was done, Boxers and Dom both stared with expressions of disbelief. “Tell me that was a joke,” Big Guy said.

“Wish I could,” Venice said.

“That sort of sucks,” Jonathan said.

“Baker Sinise’s brochures brag about an anything-goes resort,” Dom said. “I guess that helps explain how he gets away with it. There’s no one around to enforce whatever laws they might have.”

“How big is your OpFor, Boss?” Opposition force.

“I estimate something north of two dozen.”

“You can’t win that fight. Not without force multipliers.”

“It won’t be pleasant,” Jonathan agreed, “but we don’t have a whole lot of choice. For now, we’re just gathering intel. We’ve found a place to hole up and stay out of the way during daylight hours.”

“Then just stay there,” Venice said.

“I don’t think we can,” Jonathan said. “We killed two of their guys. They know they have armed resistance on the island, and they’re going to have to come looking for us.”

“Are there more than just you and Gunslinger?” Dom asked.

“Affirmative. We’ve joined up with two other guests and two guys who work here.”

“That makes six,” Boxers said softly. Venice thought maybe he was thinking out loud. “Better than only two.”

“That’s another reason to board the ship,” Jonathan said. “Between the two of us, we’ve got two rifles, two handguns, and barely a hundred rounds of ammo. I’m hoping they’ll have a weapons locker on board.”

“If they do, I believe that’s where you’ll find their security contingent,” Boxers said.

“I believe you’re right. Mother Hen, how are you coming on those deck plans?”

A set of drawings appeared on the screen. “I have some,” Venice said, “but I have to tell you that there seems to be a lot of variation on what’s where. That model ship is old enough that it’s likely been reconfigured.”

“It’ll be what it is,” Jonathan said.

An idea smacked Venice out of nowhere. “I think I might have a plan. Does Gunslinger have a phone, too?”

“Yes, but we’ve turned it off to conserve on battery.”

“Okay, turn her phone on and hang up.”

“That’s a plan?” Jonathan said.

“Yes, it is,” Venice said. “I’ll call you back as a conference call. We’ll all come along as you board the ship. If you end up at a dead end or something, maybe I’ll be able to talk you out of it or around it.”

The line went dead.

“You really think that will work?” Dom asked as Venice waited to redial.

“Sure. I mean, I don’t see how—”

“This is bullshit,” Boxers proclaimed, and he shot out of his chair. He headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Venice asked, startled.

“I’m going to rescue them myself,” he said.

“How?” Dom asked.

“I’ll raise my own goddamn army,” he said.