Gone at Zero Hundred 00:00 (26 page)

While working out at the
Sutter Beach Gym, he met a guy named Rojas who said he was looking for someone
to be a courier for his uncle’s retail store. The job was easy. Ride the ferry
over to Tesoro Island, inspect some retail goods and transport them back to the
United States. After doing a quick Google search of Tesoro Island, and
realizing it was less than a two-hour trip with a half-hour customs check,
Jaden said, heck yeah, I’m on board. He had no idea the hotel where he would be
sent to meet his contact, was nowhere near the images he found on the internet.
How was he to know the festival images he viewed were taken long before the
President of Mexico declared a war on drug cartels, and citizens, officers and
border patrol agents were being kidnapped in high numbers. Jaden had no time
for the news.

A few moments later, a
Mexican teenager wearing stained khaki pants, a striped shirt, and a NY Yankees
baseball cap, maneuvered a rusted moped through the crowd and headed in Jaden’s
direction. A large package, wrapped in plain brown paper, was strapped to the
handlebars by a straw rope. The teen looked around as he approached, as if wary
of being seen. A few feet away he brought the moped to a screeching halt,
pulled the rope free and flailed the package toward Jaden; then stepped on the
gas and sped off into the crowd.

What the heck?

Jaden shoved the
Blackberry into his pocket and put his hands out to catch it. Rojas told him he
was to meet a man who manufactured retail goods, inspect them and bring them
back to the states. He didn’t think it would go down like this.

How do I know who this
guy is, or what’s inside? I’m an American on an island in a foreign country.

Holy crap, it could be
a bomb
!

Suddenly paranoid, Jaden
let the package land on the ground, and he crouched down low with his hands
over his head. The rope dropped like a slithering snake on top of it. He stayed
like that for a moment and just stared at the package.

Nothing happened.

“Get a grip, White,” he
finally said to himself. “If it was a bomb, wouldn’t it have gone off when it
hit the ground?” At least that’s the way things play out on TV. He moved toward
the package and gently picked it up with his fingertips. He put it up to his
ear to see if he could hear anything, a ticking sound or something.

Nothing.

His heart was racing a
mile a minute. He examined the package for signs of where it came from, an
address, name, or something.

Nothing.

Feeling a little bolder,
he slowly shook the package.

Still nothing
.

He couldn’t tell if the
sweat dripping down his body was from the heat, or his overwhelming fear. He
began to slowly peel away the brown paper to get a look inside and let out a
heavy sigh of relief.

Whew!

  Inside, he found
boxes of exotic teas and samples of Mexican Tapestries, the items he was hired
to retrieve. He leaned up against the grimy wall of the hotel to steady
himself. His paranoia was messing with his head. He had been on Tesoro Island
for two
long
days. The contact Rojas set him up to meet cancelled on him
three times leaving him stuck in the rat trap hotel. He couldn’t go outside and
tour the island, because he was afraid he’d miss the call. The stupid signal on
his Blackberry kept going out.

What kind of
godforsaken place was this, anyway?
He hated the food, and he steered clear of the water. Now
that he had the goods, he just wanted to go home and collect his check.

He lifted the front of
his shirt and wiped the sweat from his eyes, tucked the package under his arm
and tried his Blackberry again. Oh good, one bar. He typed a quick text to
Cody: ‘Hey bro, ETA 1700 hours. CUL8R.’

Cody texted back: ‘Bout
friggin time. KEWL’.

Jaden typed another text:
‘Have 2 5-Guys Burgers and a large Coke waiting. Food here sux!’

‘LMAO’, was the text sent
by Cody.

THE MINUTE Jaden drove
his beat-up Ford Mustang up to the checkpoint for the ferry that would take him
over the Pacific and back to America, he had a bad feeling. It was swarming
with uniformed officers - shoulder arms at the ready - as if on the hunt for
something, or someone. A number of officers worked their way through the lines
of cars, and rifled through the vehicles of unsuspecting individuals waiting to
have their papers checked. Jaden shrugged it off, and chalked it up to the
extra security precautions taken since September 11, 2001. He was looking
forward to getting home, and having a cheeseburger without having to rush to
the toilet. While he was on Tesora Island, even a gulp of water made him hurl.

Moments later, his
thoughts of home were squelched when an officer with beady eyes stormed over to
the driver’s side window, and began to bark out orders in a high-pitched tone.
Simultaneously, other officers circled around his car with their weapons drawn,
eyes glaring at him in a threatening manner and ready to shoot if he moved a
muscle.

“Step out of the car and
put your hands up,” the beady-eyed officer ordered in broken English.

Jaden complied. He yelled
out, “I’m an American!”

The officers ignored him
and began to search through the car. They retrieved two duffel bags from the
trunk and dumped the contents onto the ground.

The beady-eyed officer stood
in front of Jaden and glared at him, in attempt to intimidate him. “What was
your business here?”

Jaden wanted to cooperate
and didn’t think he had anything to fear. “I came to pick up goods for a retail
store.” He pointed to the samples of tapestries and teas that were now
scattered on the ground. At that moment, he was glad he remembered to remove
his hockey gear from the trunk. His skates, alone, cost him six-hundred bucks.

Meanwhile, the beady-eyed
officer continued to issue orders to the others in Spanish. Without saying
another word to Jaden, they picked up all the items and carted them off to a
nearby building. The beady-eyed officer poked Jaden in the chest with his
weapon. “You, come with us,” he ordered.

It was then, that Jaden
knew something wasn’t right. The officers were too confrontational. He tried to
figure out what was going on. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. Transporting
retail goods isn’t a crime. Before he left the hotel, he double-checked his
duffel bag to make sure there were no nail clippers or tweezers inside that
could be considered weapons. He was baffled. Without being seen, he took a
picture on his Blackberry and typed a text: ‘brdr truble. WTF’ and hit send.

Once he was inside a
desolate room, the officers spread the rugs and teas onto a table, as well as
the contents to Jaden’s bags and searched them one by one.

Another officer arrived,
waiving around a set of tools. He handed them out to officers in the room. They
began to cut through items as Jaden watched, helpless to do anything. No matter
what they did, Jaden couldn’t object or intervene. He heard stories about
guards in foreign countries, so he remained quiet while they looked for god
knows what.

It was a few seconds
later—when an officer used a set of pliers and took apart the beads on the
edges of the Mexican Tapestries—things took on a menacing tone. The officer
slipped the tip of a pocketknife into one of the beads. When he pulled it back
out, the tip was covered with a gold-colored tar substance.

Jaden looked on, stunned.
What is that?!

Instantaneously, the
other officers began to cut through every item in the room, while Jaden looked
on in stunned silence.

The situation was unreal.
Jaden had no idea what the substance was. If he hadn’t seen the officer pull it
out with his own eyes, he would have thought they planted it. He sure as heck
didn’t know it was there.

After the guards
completed their search, they placed the evidence in the middle of the table,
and glanced toward the beady-eyed officer for direction. With a motion from
him, they all turned their attention to Jaden and the look on their faces said
it all. The beady-eyed officer made a physical gesture with his hand—he
imitated slitting his throat.

They wanted him dead!

Jaden typed another quick
text:
‘911’
, right before the beady-eyed officer knocked the Blackberry
to the ground with a brute force. Another officer crushed the phone with his
boot. It shattered into pieces.

Filled with terror, Jaden
impulsively stumbled back, trying to put some distance between them. Another
officer nudged him forward with his gun, and several officers followed with
their weapons aimed at him. They herded him down a hall until they came to set
of metal doors. Inside was a concrete room without any windows. They shoved
Jaden to the ground.

“You wait here!” the
beady-eyed officer ordered. They slammed the door leaving him alone.

Jaden was suddenly
afraid…afraid for his life.

Acknowledgements

First, and foremost, I would like to thank the men and
women in uniform, and their families, for the sacrifices they make so the rest
of us can live.

I would also like to thank the following individuals
who supported me during this novel’s creation:

To Fran, for the support, patience and understanding
he gave me during the hours, days, weeks and months that I spent glued to my
computer while pursuing the completion of this book.

To Amanda, for her undying support through the years.

To Jimmy and Cindy, for the invaluable support and selfless
aid they extended during the last few months while I completed this book. I
will always be grateful.

To the crew: Fran, Daniel, Erin, Jimmy, Cindy, Fred,
Marie, Kevin, John, Janelle, Chuck, Bert, Sherry, Kyle, George, Sheila, Jimmy,
Cassie, Todd, Tracy, Kristin, Cheyenne, Little John, and many more…

Thank you, to all of you for your encouragement and
support.

Thank you for purchasing
and reading about the exploits of McSwain & Beck in the first book in the
series: Gone at Zero Hundred 00:00. I hope you enjoyed it. For more information
on the release date for Fireworks on the 4th check me out at the following
pages:

Website: CRHIATT.com

Twitter Page:
@McSwainandBeck

Blog Page:
McSwainandBeck.com

Facebook Fan Page:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/CR-Hiatt/252665688158348?bookmark_t=page

Also feel free to email
me to receive updates: [email protected]