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Authors: Dee Henderson

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BOOK: True Honor
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Darcy lifted an eyebrow at the fact Gabriel was ready to make that kind of forward move, but she nodded and reached for the other phone. They would travel under their own passports but would carry optional documents to let them switch names if needed to long-established covers. Sometimes it was beneficial not to travel as Americans.

JULY 31

Wednesday, 11:10 p.m.

Caribbean Sea

Sam was stretched out on his stomach against the tough black rubber of the six-by-fifteen-foot Zodiac, finding comfort in the familiar texture as the boat rode four-foot sea swells. He searched 180 degrees of the horizon with thermal-vision sights. Wolf, stretched out on the other side of the craft facing the opposite direction, scanned the other 180 degrees. Bear and Frank were in a Zodiac craft a quarter mile to the east doing the same type of search.

The huge cargo ship was like a lumbering elephant on the horizon; it would pass by in half a mile. The two Zodiacs were black spots on the water in a black night, only twenty-eight inches from the surface of the sea. They were invisible even when someone knew they were present. It gave them the advantage. The craft they sought had to be able to transport heavy if not voluminous cargo. The engines of such a boat would be glowing heat sources through the thermal sights.

This was the type of work Sam liked best—the surveillance, the stalking, catching the bad guys when they didn’t know they were being observed. And it was much better to be busy than on the boat with too much time to think. It would be at least four months before he saw Darcy again, and it stretched like an eternity. Did she feel these separations as strongly as he did? They’d never talked about the distant future after this war was over. They talked about the logistics of the here and now. Was she as afraid of trouble disrupting this relationship as he was?

“I’ve got movement on the water, grid 92C,” Wolf whispered.

Sam checked what Wolf saw. The speed of the movement was uncharacteristically fast for a boat sailing safely at night, and the most telling sign of something unusual was the lack of running lights. The boat was clearly visible with the thermal-vision sights, but only darkness was seen through normal binoculars. Sam touched his radio. “Bear, this is promising.” He gave the grid coordinates.

“Possibly a drug runner,” Wolf said.

“Affirmative.” They had seen several during their last several days watching movement around the islands.

As soon as it was clear the boat was angling toward the cargo ship, Bear signaled for them to move in closer to try to identify the boat. As the massive cargo ship slowed and the boat drew alongside, they shadowed the transfer. A night-vision long-lens camera captured the first silhouette of the vessel and the two men aboard. A netlike boom lowered a case over the side. Against the huge cargo ship the smaller boat looked like a dot.

Bear gave word for them to pull back from the area as it became clear the transfer over the side of the huge cargo ship was complete. “We track this boat to where it originated. We want the buyer, not just the couriers.”

The boat put on speed. It came between the two Zodiacs full of SEALs, its wake adding another layer of rocking to their rubber craft, the closeness giving them a bonanza of close-up photos. Water washed over the side of the Zodiac as they cut through the waves, trailing the boat. The distance between them grew with every minute, but the heat signature made the boat easy to track with the thermal scopes.

Land appeared on the horizon as a sliver and then it became bigger, a deeper blackness than the surrounding sky. “Razor Reef Island,” Wolf whispered. Only a number officially named the uninhabited island, but locals called it Razor Reef Island. The coves were unattractive to visiting boats due to the razor sharp volcanic rocks that circled the island, and there were only two short stretches of beach with clear sand attractive to visitors, the rest of the small island was overgrown vegetation or steep drops of rock to the sea.

“Not a place to stay,” Wolf remarked as they took bearing marks for how the boat had approached the island. It had managed to enter one of the coves that turned inland.

“A quiet place to hide something you wanted to stash,” Sam agreed.

“How much did that transfer just cost?”

“I’d think you could start in the millions and you’d probably be close.”

“Watching this stash is going to be an interesting challenge.”

“We won’t be doing it from the water during daylight hours,” Sam said. He changed rolls of film. “Air surveillance, satellites, a spotting team put on the island. It’s more a matter of intelligence now to identify the buyer. As long as we know where the stash is, we can get it whenever they decide the time is right.”

Bear passed word that it was time to fall back to the pickup point. It was a long ride in the Zodiacs, for they wanted a good distance from the island to mute the sound of the helicopter extraction. Sam hoped the information would lead to a decision to send in the SEALs soon. He didn’t want those explosives making it off the island.

JULY 31

Wednesday, 11:20 p.m.

Central Intelligence Agency

“What did Luther just buy that cost ten million? A cargo ship?” Darcy asked. The funds had transferred in a block precisely at 11:15 p.m., to an account that to all appearances looked legit. The cash had transferred to a shipping company with over eighty years of history moving cargo around the world in its huge fleet. A search of the CIA’s files on the company showed it had few safety problems and even fewer criminal problems.

“Even a decommissioned cargo ship would go for more than ten mil just for the resale value of the cut-up metal hull,” Gabriel replied. “My guess is Luther just facilitated his first deal since we shut him down in Morocco. Either arranging a shipment or a quiet passage for someone.”

“Five million is still in the account,” Darcy pointed out. “Luther created this pooled account and used it within hours. Why pool more money than he needed?”

“A second transfer or withdrawal is imminent,” Gabe guessed. “I still want us to travel south, Dar. We know the date the money transferred; we know the shipping company Luther paid. The DEA has good surveillance around this area of the world. Let’s go ask some questions and see what else can be learned.”

Darcy reached for the phone to finalize the travel arrangements. “I’m all for getting back into the field.”

Twenty-Four

* * *

AUGUST 1

Thursday, 10:14 p.m.

Nassau, New Providence Island, Bahamas

The vacationing CIA agents had taken two rooms on the ninth floor of the hotel directly across from the First Capital Bank, Nassau. Darcy stepped to the camera focused on the front entrance of the bank, pleased to see the surveillance they already had in place. “What time does the bank open in the morning?”

“Nine o’clock.”

She looked at the secure computer feed coming in by satellite. It was linked into the Web site back at Treasury headquarters, letting her see the latest data. “The five million is still sitting there.” She had expected the money to move by now.

“We’ll know the minute a withdrawal occurs. If anyone accesses that account in person, we’ll have photos of everyone entering and leaving the bank. Tracking devices and bugs are ready to go if we need to tag and follow someone so we don’t tip our hand too early.”

She looked over at the equipment and nodded. They could walk across the street and tag a car under the bumper with a transmitter before someone entering the bank could reasonably finish their business and come out again. It would be a bit more challenging to plant a small bug inside a car to pick up conversations or place it in someone’s bag or briefcase, but she had done it before, and these guys were both experienced field agents. They had options. “What if the money is transferred from here electronically?” Darcy glanced back at her partner, not sure what he intended.

Gabe opened a bottle of water. “Then it will be another quick plane trip to chase it. We stay with this money. Whenever Luther accesses it, whatever he tries to buy, wherever he tries to move it, we’re going to know real time. He can’t let it sit there for fear we’ll seize it. You want the late shift or the early one?”

They were taking no chances that an official had been bribed and this transaction like the prior one would be handled after hours. “I’m going to crash now. Come wake me at 5 a.m.”

Gabe handed her a room key. “Sergey often wintered in the British Virgin Islands with his family. It would be worth tracking down that information, see where he stayed and if he ever came through the Bahamas. If we tracked Luther to Nassau, chances are good Sergey has as well. He probably knows this area better than we do. I’ll see what I can find tonight.”

“Good idea, Gabe.”

Darcy took her bag with her and settled into the hotel room, not bothering to unpack beyond what she needed for some sleep. She’d only been able to leave a message on Sam’s machine to let him know she was traveling. She hoped he understood why the message had been so vague. She didn’t want to worry him again.

Jesus, I miss him. I have no idea where Sam is right now, but You do. Please encourage him and give him a reason to smile and laugh, lighten a moment of his day as a gift from me. Please give us a future together, despite all the logistics involved.

She had to trace this money to Luther, locate his island, and apprehend him. She closed her eyes.
It’s time. Help us find Luther and end this.

It was getting easier to trust that this would work out.

AUGUST 1

Friday, 11:10 p.m.

USS
H
AILEY
/ Caribbean Sea

Sam brought over the latest weather report as Bear laid out the satellite map of Razor Reef Island on the table in the briefing room. SEAL Team Nine crowded around the table as the meeting began. “Surveillance shows no movement around the island in the last twenty-four hours,” Bear said. “The boat came into this cove, remained for shortly over an hour, and then left the island and went toward St. Croix. From that time track we can infer the cargo was stashed somewhere near the inlet. If we’re asked to go in and recover the shipment, how is the best way to do it?”

“Constraints?” Wolf asked.

“We have to go in, pick it up, and leave undetected.”

“What kind of detection resources do we think the other side has?” Sam asked.

“Assume the worse: Things like a sensitive microphone set up near the shipment that transmits everything it hears to someone on a boat or another nearby island; the ability for them to trigger a blast to take out the shipment if they think someone is trying to take it. Probably decent tracking of boats traveling near the island.”

“A helicopter approaching the island would be heard,” Wolf commented.

“Yes. We have to get in quietly, locate the shipment, get around any monitoring or trip wires, and then haul the shipment out of there either by air or sea without tipping off someone that we’ve snatched it,” Bear replied.

“Even the simple jamming of their signal will indicate we are there. Why not set up on the island and simply wait for someone to come and get it?” Wolf asked.

“My guess is the chain of command will decide to do an intercept at sea after someone recovers the shipment,” Joe agreed. “They’ll want the investigators to have as much time as possible to find out who arranged the shipment, not just who’s hoping to use it. For now their goal is to simply put together options.”

“Getting into that cove unseen is straightforward. We swim in at night and give ourselves the daylight hours to locate the shipment and figure out what type of monitoring we have to defeat,” Sam proposed. “If we need special gear, we bring it in after sundown. Sound monitoring can be defeated if we tape the night, slip a soundproof hood over the microphone and playback the tape, letting them hear only what we want them to hear. Cameras can be defeated with a view screen playing back what we want them to see. We wait until the early hours of the morning when anyone monitoring this site may miss any minor glitches.”

“And if we take the shipment out packed in underwater containers we can tow them out with us so there won’t be a surface vessel to see,” Wolf suggested.

“All good ideas,” Bear replied. “Let’s work up details and figure out how to minimize the risks.”

AUGUST 2

Friday, 9:07 a.m.

Nassau Hotel / Nassau, New Providence Island, Bahamas

Darcy counted nine customers in line by the bank front doors when it finally opened at 9:07 a.m. She studied faces, not sure who she was looking for but hoping Luther would try to take the money from the account rather than transfer it. The money was still sitting there for a reason. The odds increased with every passing hour that someone was coming for it.

“You’ve had too much coffee,” Gabe remarked.

She stopped drumming her fingers on the table. “Where is he?”

“Patience, Dar. We sit and watch.” He had moved a chair near the window and made himself comfortable for the day of surveillance. Gabriel snapped more pictures.

“Luther, Renee, Vladimir, or Jerry. Would he entrust someone else to act as a middle man when it involved this kind of money?”

“I doubt it. And given five million is more than just expense cash, I suspect he’s got something else to buy.”

“Any more leads on what he bought Wednesday night for ten million?”

“There may be something developing south of here in the British Virgin Islands. A very large shipment of explosives is being tracked. The CIA station chief called this morning and said he’d bring by what he had,” Gabe replied.

“That makes sense. It won’t be the first time we’ve had Luther trying to buy a large quantity of explosives to facilitate a terrorist act.”

“And it means the odds are at least better than even that Luther’s in the area,” Gabe agreed. “We’re going to get another chance to grab him. Now this is a surprise.”

Darcy focused her binoculars on what Gabriel had spotted. “He sent his wife, Renee.”

“So much for her being the little lady he marries, spoils, but keeps in the dark.”

BOOK: True Honor
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