Duty Bound (1995) (42 page)

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Authors: Leonard B Scott

BOOK: Duty Bound (1995)
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"I still hear his screams, and Andy's, too. He was hit right after Paul bought it."

Ted lowered his head. "I got hit in the leg. Glenn and Gee pulled me back into deeper water. I didn't want to leave my guys, but . . . but they were past needing help."

Eli looked up at Glenn. "You sure the DEA agent set you up?"

"There was at least a mile of shoreline around that bay.

We could have gone in anywhere-and yet they were waiting at the exact spot where he told us to go in. He set us up, all right. Tell him the rest, Ted."

Ted sighed and glanced toward the road entry into the parking lot. "The DEA said there was never a mission change. I told 'em bullshit, the agent came and told us there was. They said what agent? They showed us pictures, but none of them was him. When we couldn't point him out, they figured we made up the story to cover our fucking up the operation. We didn't fuck it up . . . that hippie-lookin', cigar-chompin' son of a bitch set us up."

Eli's jaw muscles tightened. "Cigar-chompin'? What'd he look like?"

"It was dark when he came into the staging area; we were adjusting our eyes for the op, usin' red-filtered lights so as not to screw up our night vision, but I know he was average height and had a scraggly beard and mustache. He also had this half cigar in his mouth the whole time he talked to us.

He never lit it. I know 'cause he stood right beside me when he gave me his map and told me where we were supposed to go ashore. He was using a red-filtered light, too."

"You ask him for ID?"

"Christ'a'mighty, he walked into our staging area, which was inside a fenced-in Navy base. Nobody walks into a base without being checked. . . . I assumed he had been ID'd. I was busy tryin' to get ready to load our gear in the chopper, remember?"

"And you gave his description to the other DEA people who questioned you?" Eli asked.

"Of course we did!" Glenn snapped, leaning over the side of the pickup. "Trouble was, we didn't talk to the DEA people until two days after the ambush. Ted, Gee, and me were all that was left of the team, and we'd all taken hits-- we barely made it to that island where we left the Zodiacs.

None of us could get one into the water--we stayed the rest of the night watching those cruisers and fishing boats unass the bay. Coast Guard came in the next morning, found us, and evacked us to the Hondo military hospital. It took another day before the DEA people came around asking what the hell happened."

"Could the beard and mustache have been a disguise?"

Eli asked.

Ted shrugged. "Could have been . . . like I told you, it was dark."

Eli took the cell phone Bonita had given him from his pocket and quickly began pushing keys.

"What are you doin'?" Ted asked.

Eli lifted the phone to his ear. "I'm going to tell my detective friend your story. I think I know who your DEA informer was. . . . Ed, this is Eli, listen very carefully.

" Several minutes later Eli closed the cell phone flap. Ted was staring at him. "You really think it could be him?"

"I don't know, but Ed will find out soon enough. Ed says the guy is there at the staging area. If he makes some excuse to leave before seven A. M., then we can be pretty sure he knows about the bombs."

The cell phone rang in Eli's hand. He answered with a simple "Yeah?" He listened for a full minute without saying a word and finally said, "Good work; see you there." He closed the flap and looked at Ted. "The plant arrived on a flight from Sydney an hour ago. Customs has already cleared it and sent it to the U. S. Agricultural Department holding area. It's six miles from the airport on Palmetto Way . . . I know where it is. Hold it, there's more. The company picking up the plant is called the Tropic Zone Import Company. Agent Sutton is already at the Agricultural Department's holding area and says the company has been notified and is having a truck make the pickup at 0600.

There's some good news for us. The plant is big; it's actually a small tree of some kind, so they'll need to bring a good-size truck to haul it. The other good news is that Sutton talked to the department inspector. He says the company has picked up plants before for Mendez. The company usually sends a driver and a helper. The driver collects the papers and pays the department's charges for inspection, handling, and storage."

Ted stood and smiled. "Looks like we're in. Saddle up, time to ride."

.

4:15 A. M.

Special Agent Howard Parker and Detective Ed Faraday stepped up into the back of the semi trailer that was being used as the DEA command post.

Standing only a few feet away, DEA Agent Sam Ortiz turned away from a map posted on the trailer wall. "There you are, Howard. I was looking for you earlier. Take a look at this map and I'll go over how we're going in."

Parker walked to the map. Ortiz took the unlit cigar from his mouth and used it as a pointer. "We're going to make a simultaneous strike. The units here in the staging area will move into assault position close to the boatyard at 0645 hours. At the same time my Bravo unit will move into position around the Tents estate down here in South Miami.

Choppers will come in at exactly 0700 and lay down a cloud of persistent gas. Following the smoke birds will be two assault birds with teams on board that will rappel into the boatyard and onto the main building's roof. At the same time we've got a ram truck that will speed in and bust open the chain-link fence gate to allow the ground units entry.

We'll have snipers in position and spotters for the ground units. It'll be over in a couple of minutes. The same goes for the assault on the estate; it's the same basic plan but the estate grounds are smaller and will take even less time .. . they won't have time to shit their pants."

Parker studied the map a moment before speaking. "You pinpoint where Miss Starr and Agent Tanner are being kept?"

Ortiz used the cigar and pointed at a hand-drawn map pinned next to the bigger map. "Based on the body-heat scan, we're pretty sure they're here in the boatyard supervisor's office. The scan showed two hot spots side by side.

Other hot spots are here just outside the office door. We're sure it's their guards."

Parker raised an eyebrow. "You're going to run both missions from here?"

Ortiz motioned to a seated man behind a radio. "Bill is going to run the boatyard mission from here. I'm going to be with the Bravo unit at the estate. I want to make sure we get Terres alive."

Parker raised an eyebrow. "You guys in the DEA sure run things different than we do. The AIC always stays with the majority of his men. How many in your Bravo unit .. . twenty or so? You've got at least thirty here, not counting what's coming in on the birds."

Ortiz stuck the cigar back in his mouth. "I run it my way, Parker. We need Terres alive."

"Yeah, and I want Starr and Tanner alive, Ortiz. Seems to me your priorities are screwed up. The hostages come first."

"We'll get them, Parker, don't worry. You can go in with the assault team if you want. I'm sure my people can find you a gas mask and a vest."

Parker gestured toward the door. "Come outside a minute and let me show you something. Detective Faraday walked around your staging area earlier and found something you need to see."

"I don't have time; I've got a mission to--"

Faraday stepped behind Ortiz, stuck his snub-nose .38 barrel in his back, and whispered, "Look natural for your boys and just walk to the fuckin' door. You're gonna make time. Move it."

Once outside in the darkness, Faraday cuffed Ortiz's right wrist, swung it back, and cuffed his left. Parker knocked the cigar from Ortiz's mouth with one hand and with the other slapped a piece of tape over his mouth. He then grabbed his arms and shoved him toward a parked car beside the trailer.

Faraday opened the rear door, pushed Ortiz inside, and followed him in. Parker got in behind the wheel and started the engine. He backed away from the trailer and weaved his way through the DEA vehicles until a chain-link fence came into view in the headlights. Stopping the vehicle, Parker turned and held up a small black box with a digital display.

"You know what this is? It's the device somebody was going to use to blow the thirty pounds of C-4 we found in the side panels of that rusted abandoned van over there beside the fence. It's really a neat device . . . it had wires attached to it that led to a blasting cap stuck inside a block of the C-4. Sam, you wouldn't know anything about this device, would you?"

Faraday reached over and pulled the tape from Ortiz's mouth. "Yeah, Sam, you wouldn't know about that thing, would you?"

Ortiz growled, "I don't know what you're talking about.

What the hell is going on? What is this?"

"Funny, I thought you'd say that," Faraday said as his head bobbed. "Well, I got news, Sammy boy. We know you know. We did some checking on you. You know that young guy, the Colombian you said the cops found in the Dumpster close to the restaurant? Guess what? The body ain't in the city morgue. We talked to the morgue guys, though.

They say a guy was brought in from a Dumpster, all right, but he was in his forties . . . and he didn't have any Lancero tattoo like you said he did. You figured since you were runnin' the show nobody would check you out, didn't you?

Wrong. So, Sammy boy, looks like we got you. Now me and Agent Parker here been askin' ourselves how we should handle this. We thought maybe we should do the right thing and turn you over . . . but then there's that assassination of the senator to think about. His family we gotta think about, too, and the others your friend knocked off to protect himself. It was the family that made it easy for us. Guess what?

We decided not to turn you over. We got somethin' better in mind. Show him, Howard."

Parker turned the car around and drove in the opposite direction across the parking lot.

Ortiz blurted, "You two are certifiable. I don't know what in the hell you're talking about. I didn't have anythin--"

Faraday slapped the back of Ortiz's head. "Shut up and enjoy the scenery. We'll let you know when you can talk.

Oh, look, Sammy boy. Look at that old boat up on stilts just beyond that chain-link fence up ahead. By the way, you're sick, came down with somethin' real sudden . . . at least that's what Agent Parker is going to tell your boys. Your second in command is going to take over. In about twenty minutes your second in command is going to be called by your boss and told to put the operation on hold and fall back to another staging area. Guess where you're going to be?

Yep, you guessed it. You're going to be right here in your car, lying in the backseat, and the car is going to be parked next to the chain-link fence. . . . Yeah, beside that old boat."

"You can't do this to me!"

Faraday slapped the man's head again. "I didn't tell you it was time for you to talk."

Parker pulled in beside the fence, turned off the engine, and turned in his seat. "I'm sure if we told your people you'd sold them out they'd do a lot worse to you. Detective Faraday and I are giving you and your agency a way out of embarrassment. Gosh, we didn't know there was another bomb, did we, Ed?"

"Heavens, no, Howard, we didn't know. We were worried, though, when we found the one in the abandoned van, and pulled everybody back just in case. . . . Oh damn, we didn't check Sam's car, did we? Oops, we thought somebody took him to the hospital. Too bad about that. That bomb inside that old boat was made really good, too. Had bags of nails lining the inside hull, then the C-4 was laid in blocks over the bags, kind of like a giant claymore mine.

Guess ol' Sam never felt a thing. I hear all they found of him wouldn't even half fill a sandwich Baggie. Real shame."

"You're wasting your time; you're not scaring me," Ortiz said. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just know you both are in big trouble."

Parker said, "You hear that, Ed? He says we're in trouble."

Faraday patted Ortiz's shoulder. "Attitude, that's your problem, Sammy boy. I saw it right off when I first met you.

You got a real attitude problem . . . holier-than-thou type, ya look down your nose at everybody. And you know what else? You're dumb. You thought you could get away with it.

Dumb, really dumb."

Parker got out of the car and opened the back door.

Faraday shook his head. "So we're in trouble, huh? I guess that means you're really in some deep shit, then, Sammy boy. Not talking anymore, huh? I understand. I'd be thinkin' about all those nails, too. Okay, time for me to go . . . oh, I almost forgot."

Faraday suddenly grabbed Ortiz by the back of the head and slammed his head forward into the back of the front seat headrest. Pulling the stunned man back, he slammed his head forward again, then pushed the dazed man to the car floor. Parker slipped a plastic tie around Ortiz's ankles as Faraday took off the handcuffs and replaced them with another plastic tie that, once tightened, could only be removed by cutting it with a knife or scissors. Faraday wrapped another tie around the front-seat floor mount and passed it through the tie around Ortiz's wrists. Finished tightening the plastic band, Faraday patted Ortiz's face. "Sick boy, you're all set for the big boom."

Parker taped Ortiz's mouth, then set the small black device on his chest. "Take a look at the digital readout. It's counting down the time for you so you know when to shut your eyes before the boat bomb goes off."

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