Fallen Mangrove (Jesse McDermitt Series Book 5) (29 page)

“Nothing,” I called up to Bourke. “That really blasted the bottom clean, though. Next time, just eight hundred rpm. Go ahead and move the boat twenty feet forward. This hole is huge.”

Watching from below, we could see the two stern lines go slack and a few coils dropped into the water. Slowly, the boat inched forward using only the windlass until the stern lines pulled tight once more.

“We’re in position,” Bourke said.

“Same thing, Tony,” I said. “Twenty feet away.”

We got into position and I told Bourke to engage the engines again. Once more the force of the water gouged another hole in the sand, sending it mushrooming all around us.

“That’s good,” I called up to Bourke.

Tony and I waited a moment, while the sand was swept away in the current then descended into the hole.

“I got something here,” Tony said. I looked over where he was fanning the bottom and swam over to him, not quite ready for what I saw.

“What is it?” Bourke asked over the com as a chill coursed through my veins.

I looked at Tony as he crossed himself reverently. “A grave,” I replied. “Bones and a few metal pieces. Looks like four bodies were buried here. Nothing else. Move the boat fifteen more feet.”

“How did anyone bury someone that deep?” Tony asked as Bourke and the two women went through the process of moving the boat again.

“Maybe they didn’t,” I replied. “Didn’t Chyrel mention something about a lower sea level and that rock being the east end of a spit of land? This was all dry land then.” I checked my console and added, “We’re only ten feet deep here.”

“Okay,” Bourke said, “we’re in position.”

“We’re ready here,” I replied. “Blast away.”

Once more, we were enveloped in swirling sand and suddenly something landed right in front of me.

“Shut it down!” Tony called and Bourke stopped the engines instantly.

Right in front of me was another skeleton, this one much shallower than the others. It had been in a sitting position and was knocked over nearly on top of me by the force of the water.

“It’s another body,” I said as Tony swam over to me. “Let’s move it to where the others are.”

We positioned ourselves side by side and as gently as we could, we moved what was left of the bones over to the previous hole, where the others now lay resting at the bottom of the partially filled grave.

“What do you want to bet this guy buried the others?” Tony asked while looking at me.

I stared at the empty sockets in the skull and was overcome with an emotion I’d never felt before.
This is how we will all end up one day
, I thought.

“You’re probably right,” I replied. “Let’s put him with his crew.” Somehow I knew this man was the leader of the others. Responsible for their fate and ultimately for their deaths.

I placed a three pound lead weight with a line attached to it next to the bodies and inflated a small balloon with air from my buoyancy compensator, allowing it to drift up to the surface. Somehow I felt the need to recognize this man and with Tony kneeling beside me, I saluted him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tony do the same.

A moment later, we were back in position and I told Bourke to hit the blower again. We were quickly enveloped in the swirling sand, our visibility cut to nothing.

“That’s enough,” I called up to Bourke.

He stopped the engines and we waited for the current to carry the sand away. This time, we didn’t have to swim around searching the inside of the crater. We both knew we’d found the spot as soon as we reached the edge of the crater.

Tony let out a whopping yell and started laughing so hard I thought he’d choke.

“What is it?” Bourke asked. “What’s wrong?”

“We found it,” I said. “The Captain was sitting right next to where he’d buried it.”

Tony and I swam down to the bottom of the deep pit. There, sitting on the rocky bottom which hadn’t seen the light of day for four hundred and forty years, were four large chests and five smaller ones. They were obviously very old, but well preserved. Each seemed to have been covered in pine tar, or something like it, and buried side by side.

I looked at Tony over the larger chests. “Want to take a peek?”

He nodded and I pulled out my dive knife, inserting it into the crack beneath the lid. It took some work; the pine tar seemed to have been poured over each chest after they were placed there.

Finally, the top cracked open a little, the hinges on the opposite side instantly crumbling, as I lifted the lid.

“Holy mother of God!” Tony exclaimed.

The chest was filled almost to the top with gold bars, each one gleaming like the day they were struck. There must have been hundreds of them. Excitedly, we worked on cracking open the other chests. After fifteen minutes we had them all open. Only the one held gold. The other three large chests were filled with silver pesos, some slightly encrusted. Thanks to the pine tar seal, not as much as I would have expected, though. The five smaller chests were filled with what appeared to be rough green stones of varying sizes, with flat areas all over them, mostly the size of marbles
. Emeralds,
I thought,
no doubt about it.

I looked over at Tony once more. “Didn’t Chyrel say there were three chests of emeralds?”

Tony looked up from the huge mound of wealth that lay before us, his eyes dancing behind his mask, knowing exactly what I was thinking.

“That’s right,” Bourke said. “The manifest said three small chests of uncut emeralds. Hang on, I got Chyrel’s printout right here. Yeah, three chests, twenty libra each. She told me a libra was pretty close to a pound, so twenty pounds.”

“Yep, and that’s exactly how many we found,” Tony said. “Three twenty-pound chests.”

I nodded and gently picked up one of the small chests. Clutching it close, I slowly filled my BC. It inflated nearly to bursting before I began to rise from the bottom, Tony doing the same thing next to me.

“Meet us at the swim platform, Bourke,” I said. “And bring two of my goody bags from the dive locker next to the engine room hatch.”

At the surface, Bourke helped us get each chest into its own bag in case the ancient wood split open. A goody bag is a heavy canvas bag that divers use to hold their catch when spear fishing or lobstering. They can easily hold thirty pounds out of the water.

“Put these in the fish box for now,” I said, pulling off my mask. “The manifest said three chests of emeralds and there’s five. This is contraband treasure, never recorded on the manifest. We’re going back down to look around for anything else, but it’s all piled together and I don’t think we’ll find anymore. Call Deuce and let him know to get Cleary started on arranging things with the Interior Ministry.”

I looked beyond Bourke at Michelle and Yvette, who were both smiling broadly. “Feels good to be a witness to history, huh? If you ladies promise to keep what’s in these two bags under your hat, there might be a little something in it for you.”

They glanced at each other, then turned to me and smiled again. “That won’t be a problem,” Michelle said.

I put my mask back on and Tony and I headed back down. I was pretty certain the chests in the hole would be all we’d find, but wanted to make sure.

When we reached the bottom, I heard Bourke yell, “What the hell!” His yell was quickly followed by a large splash. I looked up and saw Bourke struggling in the water. Thinking he’d fallen in, I started up toward him. Suddenly the engines on the
Revenge
started and all hell broke loose.

In seconds, I saw the lines to the stern anchors fall into the water, as if they’d been parted at the cleats. Those were soon followed by the main anchor line. Then, before I’d moved even a few feet toward Bourke, the engines raced and the force of the water surge pushed me down and tumbled me and Tony both away, along with a ton of sand and debris.

A moment later, I heard a shearing noise, then the unmistakable sound of my boat roaring away, as the two mailboxes fell away to the bottom. The force of the downdraft stopped and I quickly surfaced, only to see my boat rising up on plane and turning south. In minutes, it was almost out of sight. Tony surfaced twenty yards to the east and both he and Bourke were swimming toward me.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Sabina asked as Elana steered the big boat southward.

Surprised at how fast the boat could go, Elana pointed to the radar and GPS, showing their position in relation to the smaller barrier islands and the larger Great Abaco. “This boat has everything. All we have to do is go south to the tip of Great Abaco and then southwest to Chub Cay. After that, it’s a straight shot to Florida. Do you know anyone in Florida that can fence forty pounds of emeralds?”

“Not in Florida,” Sabina replied. “But I know just the person in New York. Head to the nearest port in Florida. I’ll call him and have him fly down to meet us. How long do you think we have?”

Elana checked the GPS and started playing with its settings. A course was displayed that showed they had just over one hundred and forty miles until they reached international waters, west of Chub Cay. Checking the electronic display on the helm, she saw that they were traveling at almost forty knots.

“We’ll be in international waters in three hours. Those three will be lucky to make the swim to shore in that time. We were over a mile out.”

“What if the police send out a helicopter?” Sabina asked, worried.

“A helicopter? The
politia
drive around that island in golf carts and bicycles. There’s only the one airport and I did not see any police helicopters there. Besides, there are many boats just like this all over these islands. They’ll never find us.” Smiling, she added, “I bet there’s some champagne down in the cabin. Why don’t you go see?”

Sabina climbed down the ladder and entered the cabin. She was amazed at how beautiful it was inside. It was a shame they’d have to abandon it in Miami. She didn’t find any champagne, but there was a nice bottle of white wine. She took it and two wine glasses back up to the bridge. Sitting next to Elana she poured a glass and handed it to her before pouring one for herself.

“I had no idea this boat would be so fast,” Elana said, pointing at the digital speedometer. “We’re going over forty knots. That’s seventy-five kilometers per hour.”

“It doesn’t seem so fast up here,” Sabina said, stretching her legs out and placing them on the console while taking a sip of her wine. “How much do you think those emeralds are worth?”

“Probably more than a million American dollars. But a fence is only going to pay half of that, at best.”

“Well,” Sabina said with a wicked smile, “we won’t have to split it with anyone and the two of us could retire in Mexico and live quite well with that much.”

Gently placing her hand on Sabina’s inner thigh, Elana smiled and said, “I do like the way you think, my love.”

By the time we made it to shore, a whole hour had passed. The current was pulling us north so hard that we had to swim at an angle or risk drifting out to sea, north of the island.

We finally found a house where someone was home and called Cleary. He agreed to send one of his men to pick us up and call Deuce to meet us in town.

“They have an hour-and-a-half head start,” I said once we were all together in Cleary’s office. “What do you mean you can’t get a chopper in the air?”

“We don’t have a helicopter here, Captain McDermitt, and we’re already spread very thin, thanks to all the trouble you and your people have brought to my island. The nearest helicopter is in Nassau and I already checked. It’s out on a hunt for a missing boat. It will be hours before it’s available.”

“What about Maggio’s chopper over at the airport?” Deuce asked. “Have you confiscated it yet?”

“I’ve contacted the airport and instructed the people at
Cherokee Air
to make sure it stays there. But, as far as actually confiscating it, no. We really have no need.”

“The people on that chopper fired on American government officials,” Rosales said. “That’s more than enough reason in Florida.”

“This isn’t Florida, Agent Rosales. Besides, we have nobody to fly it.”

“I can fly it,” I said. “I’m a pilot.”

“Then feel free, Captain,” Cleary shouted. “And when you run low on fuel, keep going all the way to Miami and never come back here again.”

“Wait, Sergeant,” Deuce said, in a calm voice. “Are you saying you’ll release custody of Maggio’s helicopter to the Florida Department of Law Enforcement?”

Picking up the phone on his desk, he said, “Yes, I’ll call them now, if it will get you people out of here. While the Bahamian government appreciates you finding that treasure and turning it over, you and your people have caused more than enough trouble here.”

In minutes, the deed was done and we left his office, heading straight to the ferry dock. Deuce was on the phone with Rusty as we got there and the ferry was just boarding.

“The four of you stay put,” he told Rusty. “The chopper can only carry six passengers. We’ll let you know if we find them.”

I got a sudden idea and stopped dead in my tracks. “What’s wrong?” Deuce asked.

“Tony, please tell me you remember the frequency of that tracking device Horvac put on my boat.”

Tony smiled and we ran the last few steps to the ferry, climbing aboard just as they cast off.

Half an hour later, we arrived at
Cherokee Air Services
and I walked in with Rosales as the others waited outside.

“Mister Madic,” Clifford said. Then, smiling at a confused Rosales, he added, “I see you found your friends.”

“Hi, Clifford. Did you get a call from Sergeant Cleary?”

“Yes,” he replied, looking confused himself. “He said to fuel up your friend’s Bell and that an Agent Rosales was going to be taking it.”

Rosales produced her identification and badge and showed it to the stunned man. “I’m Agent Rosales. Mister Madic is going to take me and my friends up.”

As I did a quick preflight, Deuce asked, “Are you sure you know how to fly this thing? It’s not a Huey.”

When I was in the Corps, I got about eighty hours of seat time in a UH-1 helicopter. Not really as part of any training, like the air crew—just some overly friendly chopper jocks I was able to con into letting me fly. Also not enough to get a civilian pilot’s license, either, but enough that I was comfortable at the stick.

“A chopper’s a chopper,” I said. “This one’s just got a few more bells and whistles.”

Tony knelt between the front seats, dialing in the frequency of the tracking device on the chopper’s secondary UHF receiver. “The antenna’s on the tail. When we’re pointed directly at the boat is when the signal will be weakest, because of the interference from the airframe. But it can’t tell us which way to go.”

“I know which way they went,” I said. “South.”

“That tracker only has a thirty-mile range and they have almost a two-hour head start.”

“I know, I know,” I mumbled as I started the turbine.

“That means they’re nearly ninety miles away,” Deuce said, strapping in. “At this thing’s top speed, it’ll take close to an hour to catch them.”

“That’s if we follow the same course they took,” I said, increasing the throttle and pulling up on the collective a little too much, causing the bird to jump into the air and wobble. Getting control, I said, “We’re headed straight for the Northwest Channel. They’ll have to go almost due south to Hole in the Wall before turning west.”

“You’re assuming they’ll head for Florida?”

“They can’t stay here,” I replied as we gained altitude and I pointed the nose of the chopper to the southwest.

Deuce’s phone chirped and after checking to see who it was, he answered it. He listened for a few minutes and said, “Okay, Chyrel. I’ll tell him.” Deuce ended the call and looked over at me.

“Tell who what?” I asked, glancing at him and seeing the distress in his eyes.

“That was Chyrel,” he began. “She kept digging into the connections of both Madic and the Maggio law firm.”

“Kind of a waste of time with Madic,” I said, grinning.

“Jesse, Alfredo Maggio’s son’s name is Nicholas Maggio, married, with a child due in one month.”

“So? I don’t give a shit if he has ten kids and an orphanage he supports. His ass is going to prison.”

Deuce didn’t say anything for a moment. When I glanced over at him, he was still staring at me.

“Give it,” I said. “What else?”

“Nick Maggio’s wife is Eve Marie McDermitt Maggio.”

“What?” I yelled.

“Your daughter, Eve, is married to Alfredo Maggio’s son,” Deuce said.

We flew on while I considered this. I remembered Kim telling me that Eve’s husband’s name was Nick and he was a lawyer. I remembered thinking at the time that it was a good thing she’d married a successful young man. And now that successful young man was responsible for the deaths of a lot of people. Almost forty minutes later, a faint ping started coming from my headset, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“That’s it!” Tony said, kneeling and adjusting the radio. “Yaw left, then right.”

I pushed on the left pedal, causing the helicopter to crab a little sideways and slow down. The sound of the pinging became fainter.

“They’re at about eleven o’clock from our course,” Tony said. “You timed it perfect! We’ll catch them just as they pass Chub Cay and enter Bahama Banks.”

“There’s Chub Cay five miles dead ahead,” Deuce said. “Looks like a couple of fun-seekers heading out.” Sure enough, I could just make out two go-fast boats coming out of the marina on the west side of the island.

“There!” I shouted. “There’s those two bitches with my boat!”

“Okay, what do we do now?” Deuce asked.

Pushing forward on the stick, I dropped the nose, sending the chopper into a dive. “We can’t shoot them,” I said. “Might hit a fuel tank. We still have plenty of fuel, so we’ll get low and slow and follow them in. If they see us on radar, they’ll think we’re just another boat.”

I leveled off just thirty feet from the wave tops and dropped the airspeed to forty knots. My boat was just threading the needle in the underwater canyon and heading onto the Bahama Banks a few miles ahead. Deuce watched through a pair of binoculars. I saw the two Cigarette center consoles that we’d seen leaving the marina on Chub Cay turn, following the wake of my boat a mile ahead of us. It looked like each boat had only two people aboard, all four of them looking forward. They both increased speed and began to veer away from one another, accelerating to overtake the boat thieves.

“Oh my God,” Deuce mumbled.

“What?” I asked.

“The guys in those two Cigarettes have RPGs!”

I watched in horror as the two boats quickly overtook my boat and trails of white smoke emanated from the bow of each one. The rockets streaked toward my boat, both of them reaching it about the same time. The explosion was horrific, as a giant fireball erupted and rolled up toward the sky. The
Revenge
was lifted from the water and thrown over on her side, breaking into thousands of pieces, as the orange and black cloud spat what was left of it out the side.

I instinctively pulled back on the cyclic and raised the collective, slowing and gaining altitude as the main part of the fire quickly burned itself out. What was left of
Gaspar’s Revenge
quickly sank below the surface.