Tortugas Rising (19 page)

Steve turned back toward the island.

“Come on, Steve.” Paul had one foot in the Zodiac.

Steve turned to Katherine. “They must be going after Baxter.”

“Let them.”

“They may need help.” Steve took a step to follow.

“Whoa!” Paul started to jump from the boat. His foot stuck on the gunwale, and he had to hop to maintain his balance. “Steve, stop. You are not a soldier. You are a trust fund baby. And, to tell you the truth, you’re kind of a wimp. Let the feds handle Baxter. We’ll handle the running away.”

“I have no intention of getting into another gun fight. But we can tell them the layout of the hotel – where to find Baxter’s office. We can help.”

“But the boat. Just the three of us. C’mon Steve. Rub a dub dub.”

“If they can stop Baxter, we have to help. If they can save the hostages…”

The three agents were nowhere to be seen. They moved fast. Steve and Katherine started running after the squad.

Paul swayed back and forth. “Argh, I’d better get my picture in the paper for this.”

# # #

The last man on island 38 fired up the Caterpillar front-loader and dragged closed the lid of the lead-lined bunker that had concealed the Tybee bomb for the last several months. A solid thud was heard when it settled into place.

He removed the chains and placed them on top of the bunker. Moments later the Caterpillar covered the cache and chains. He left the machine sitting on top of the hatch, concealing it, as always.

The mercenary stepped from the machine into the wet topsoil of the unfinished island.

“How is it?”

The man was startled to find his commander standing before him. He looked terrible. Pale and weak, but his voice still boomed with authority.

“The detonation charge was a perfect fit. Baxter’s connection really came through.”

“He’s nothing, if not well-connected. It seems everyone owes him a favor.”

A short boat ride later, Savage stood at the bottom of a rope ladder that hung from the side of the dredge ship. He spoke to the men in the boat. “Join the search. Those feds can’t leave the islands.”

Savage scaled the ladder slowly. The hole in his arm was slowing him more than he wanted to admit. He was greeted by more of his men on the deck.

“Where is it?”

One of the officers pointed into the hopper. The Tybee bomb sat on the bottom. The old hydrogen weapon was coated with rust, which was to be expected considering it had sat beneath a Georgia bay for nearly fifty years.

The casing was well-built, and had been sealed well – it was the only portion of the weapon that had taken any of nature’s toll.

Restoration of the bomb had been simple; it was the only part of the operation that had proceeded ahead of schedule.

Savage still marveled at the weapon. The casing looked like a large iron keg. Ribs lined the riveted shell giving it the appearance of an obsolete steam engine. It looked antiquated. It looked useless. But the material inside the bomb still had the potential to shatter a nation and forge a new one.

“Cover it.”

The officer waved to the bridge and the deck top engines roared to life. Savage watched as the boom arms of the dredge moved into position.

Rick felt more than he heard the powerful suction cutter heads spin to life. They dipped beneath the water and, seconds later, sand and water began filling the cavernous hold.

Savage could no longer see the bomb as the slurry filled the hopper.

The boom rose and the crew prepared to get underway.

Savage grinned.

They caught up with the commandoes. Emboldened by the presence of the agents, Steve, Katherine, and Paul had run quickly and joined the team across from the casino.

Winded, but still standing, Steve explained the situation, “There are no guards. At least we haven’t seen any since our escape.”

The agent in charge gestured toward the shattered front door. “So who shot up the door?’

Steve and Paul pointed to each other.

“Baxter is on the top floor.” Katherine said.

“We’re not here for Baxter.”

“But, this whole…”

“Our first priority is the dredge. I’m sure your friend told you all about it. He doesn’t seem to be good with secrets.”

Paul began to argue. Steve held him back.

“Then why are you here?”

“Ever since your idiot friend here blew our cover, someone has been jamming our equipment. We can’t reach the Coast Guard. We can’t reach the Navy.”

Paul raised his voice and pointed out to sea. “But the bomb is on that dredge.”

The agent pointed to Paul with his thumb, “Told you he was an idiot.”

Paul bristled; Steve held him back. “Can my idiot friend and I help?”

“No. Your best hope would be to take Ginger and Gilligan here, get back to the boat and find a nice little island to hide on.”

“That’s it. I’m gonna give my foot a three-hour tour of your ass.” Paul stood up and grabbed the agent by the collar.

The agent didn’t seem to move but in a moment Paul was on the ground. Two others had him pinned.

“I know where the communications center is.” Katherine blurted.

The agent in charge looked to Katherine. “How?”

“I work here. Well, worked here. I’m fairly certain I’ve been fired by now.”

The agent turned and took in the size of the casino. The complex was massive. “Let him go.”

Paul was released; Steve helped him to his feet. “‘Three hour tour of your ass?’ That was the lamest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“You know that’s not true.”

Katherine led the group across the path and through the shattered doors of the casino. Other than the corpse of a security guard, there was no one inside. Katherine led them past the elevator bay and through a staff door.

The glitz and din of the casino gave way to cold, silent concrete. The hallway extended for a quarter of a mile – the length of the enormous building. At fifty- to seventy five-foot intervals, another hallway or storage room intersected it.

They continued past the first several tributaries. Each man moved silently. Steve marveled at their lack of sound. Each wore a vest that looked as if it was designed to rattle. Knives, guns, smoke flares, all hanging from designated clips and bouncing with each step; but neither the men nor the equipment made a sound.

Katherine turned down a hallway and pointed to a door. “It’s the next one on the right. Down the hall.”

“You stay here.” The agent pointed to Steve and Katherine, but shoved Paul a little for emphasis. “I’d take your weapons from you but we don’t know what could be coming down this hall. I don’t want either of you to even draw unless absolutely necessary. Even then I’ll be pressing charges. Understood?”

Steve nodded. Paul saluted.

“Let’s clear the air gentlemen.” The agent took point as the team gathered around the hallway. There was a flurry of hand signals and the group moved together.

An agent kicked in the door and an explosion ripped through the small hallway and into the larger corridor. Steve grabbed Katherine and pulled her to the ground shielding her from the blast. Paul jumped on Steve. Katherine gasped as the air was driven from her lungs.

The smell of cordite hung in the air. The three stood on wobbly legs – their equilibrium shaken by the blast. They could hear nothing at first. Steve yelled at Katherine to see if she was all right.

She was shaken, and temporarily deafened, but nodded that she was okay. Paul stumbled. He double-checked to make sure he had not been hit. His pants were hole-less; the explosion had just thrown off his balance.

They had to shout to hear themselves speak, but over the roar in their ears they heard the screams.

“Wait with her.” Steve ran to the intersection of the hallway. It was horrific. Blood and body parts were everywhere. One agent was on his knees. Steve saw no cuts, scrapes or missing limbs. The rest were dead.

“Are you okay?”

There was no response. The agent rocked back and forth on his knees. He seemed unsure of what to do. His weapon was drawn but trained on nothing.

“Are you okay?” Was he yelling? He couldn’t tell.

The agent finally saw Steve approaching. “All of them! All of them!”

Steve focused on the agent. He looked him in the eyes. Steve couldn’t bear the site of the carnage.

“Are you okay?”

The agent looked at him puzzled. The question finally registered and the man began to feel himself for holes, cuts, or shrapnel. First a look of relief crossed his face, then one of guilt.

“I was shielded; hadn’t cleared the wall.”

Steve put a hand on his shoulder and was quiet for a moment. He looked into the agent’s eyes again. “Is the radio working?”

It must have seemed a foreign language. The agent stared at him a moment, processing the question; his ears had to be ringing worse than Steve’s. Then he reached for the radio on his shoulder, and spoke rapidly into the handset. He paused, and then spoke again.

“No. It must not have been coming from here.”

Steve peered into the communications room. A smoking mass of copper wires and twisted metal was all that was left. There would be nothing in that room that still functioned. Steve’s heart sank.

“We have to stop that ship!” Steve was firm with the agent. He hoped the tone would keep his mind and his eyes off of his fallen friends.

“There’s no way. Even if we could find the signal, I can’t take a fortified position by myself.”

Steve pulled out his gun. The agent quickly dismissed it. “No. We have to find another way to stop that boat.”

Paul stepped into the conversation. “Where’s Jefferson?”

“He’s going after the dredge.”

“Is that possible?” Katherine asked.

“Probably not. Not without someone on board.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Can you fly a helicopter?”

# # #

He had no real plan. Jefferson had gathered what fuel he could. If he couldn’t board the ship he would have to keep up with it until the radio signal cleared up.

With a few deep breaths, they had been able to salvage scuba equipment from the ship. Even with this, he wasn’t sure how the five of them were going to disable the dredge, board it, or save the country from Baxter’s bomb. He was running out of time.

The lights of the ship came into view. It wouldn’t be hard to overtake it, but as they neared, he realized it would be all but impossible to board it.

Rotors thundered and turned the water around the launch into mist. Surprised, Jefferson brought his gun to bear on the helicopter. The Homeland Security agent rocked the craft gently. Paul waved and pointed toward the ship. Jefferson lowered the gun and smiled.

The helicopter rose and roared toward the dredge. Jefferson poured on the throttle and followed. They had a chance.

# # #

“I’m going to drop you as close to the deck as I can. Don’t land in the hopper or you’ll drown.” Burnett dipped the chopper lower.

“I can swim,” said Paul.

“Not in that. It’s worse than quicksand. Aim for the deck. As soon as you jump, I’m pulling up. Ms. Bernelli and I will head for the coast – broadcasting the entire way.”

Steve nodded. The gun was heavy in his hand. They had been nothing but lucky this entire time. He had only fired in self-defense, and now he and his friend were about to storm a ship crawling with armed mercenaries.

Their luck couldn’t hold. But they had to try. If they could just reach the ladder and roll it over the side, Jefferson and his team had a chance at stopping the dredge and the bomb from Tybee.

He turned to Paul. His friend eyed the dredge with determination.

“You okay?” Steve asked.

Paul nodded. “This is stupid. But if we pull this off, it is so going to get me laid.”

Steve gripped his shoulder. “Good luck. And thanks for everything Paul.”

Paul put his hand on Steve’s back. “You’ve been a rich friend, Steve. But, I want to say one thing.”

“What is it?”

“This time I get to kill Savage.”

“Fair enough.”

“Get ready to jump.” the agent dropped the helicopter and aimed straight at the deck of the ship.

# # #

Savage watched the helicopter approach. It had never been Baxter’s plan to join them; the helicopter’s presence could only mean that the plan had changed. Maybe the old man was having second thoughts about detonating D.C.

It didn’t matter to Savage as long as he got paid. Sure he would sleep a little better without the megadeaths on his hands, but he didn’t sleep much as it was.

There was nowhere for the chopper to land. Baxter would have to step off onto the deck. He was lucky it was a calm night. But still, why would the man risk it?

His men waved the craft in.

# # #

“They’re waving us in,” Burnett shouted, following the directions of the crew onboard the dredge. “They must think we’re someone else.”

“Sure, why would anyone but Baxter be in Baxter’s helicopter?” Steve stepped back from the door in hopes of keeping the surprise a secret.

“This might actually work.” Paul said.

Steve felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned. Katherine had unbuckled the harness and leaned in to kiss him. “Don’t die.”

Steve kissed her back. “I want to take you on a vacation when we get back.”

“No beaches.”

“No. No beaches.”

Burnett circled wide around the dredge. The engines had slowed and he matched the speed. “Get ready.”