Wood's Reef (28 page)

Chapter 52

“Got a plan?” Trufante asked as he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He was coming up from the cabin after checking on Mel. She was still unconscious, but seemed comfortable. There were no visible wounds besides the bruise near her temple.

“Grab me a bottle of water. Maybe ought to get one for him, too.” Mac motioned at Gillum, who was trussed up like a hog. 

“You can’t treat a Captain of the US Navy like this,” Gillum spat.

“The only reason your not in twenty feet of water tied to a lobster trap is that uniform. It’s the man inside that counts, and you’re a piece of crap. I’ll make sure they run you out of the Navy. Maybe a little jail time would do you good,” Trufante spat back.

“Give him a little water, Tru.” Mac watched the show, but was more worried than he let on, but there was nothing he could do until the diver returned. 

“Gladly.” Trufante took the water bottle, opened it, and squeezed the flimsy plastic. The contents gushed onto Gillum’s face, a fraction of the liquid reaching his open mouth. Trufante dumped the remainder of the bottle on his own head and tossed the empty bottle at him.

“Diver should be up any time now. He’s been down a while. We need to be prepared for him. I don’t know how he’s going to react.”

Just as he finished speaking, the diver broke the surface of the water. He finned for the dive platform and climbed on, not noticing anything different about the boat until he had dropped his tank and climbed into the cockpit. There, he was faced with Mac and Trufante. Mac cocked the shotgun. 

The diver leaned over the side and casually cleared his nose. “Always gets me when I’m down that long.” He surveyed the scene in front of him. “What do y’all have in mind?”

“Names Travis, this here’s Tru and this is my boat.” Mac looked towards Gillum, disgust clear on his face, “I’m taking him back to stand trial. Let his superiors deal with him. But first I want that other bomb. I found it down the ledge about fifty feet. Not sure if you saw it or not.” Mac grunted.

The diver paused for a moment, thinking, then nodded. “I’m good with taking the Captain to trial. I’ve seen enough of his cowboy act, and he’s sure not acting the way a Navy man should. I’ve been taking orders up to this point, but this hasn’t seemed right to me. My help would depend on what you have in mind for the bomb.”

“I’m afraid that if it stays down there the wrong person will find it. Not many come into this part of the backcountry, but enough do. It needs to be brought in and handed over to the authorities, someone who will disarm and dispose of it. I hate to even think about what might happen if the salt water degraded the core and released radioactive material into the water.” He looked around the boat. “This will all be gone then. Enough reason for you?” 

“I’m good with that. I know some guys outside of his chain of command that can help.” The diver looked at Gillum, his lip curling in disgust.

“You good to dive again?”

“Yeah. I doubt I’m at risk for the bends, didn’t crack thirty feet. I’m good.” He double checked his depth gauge; the red needle had gone to thirty feet indicating this as his maximum depth. 

“Got some food here.” Trufante yelled up from the galley. He’d disappeared a few minutes before. He was making some sandwiches, a fresh beer by his side. “Don’t know about you guys, but it’s been a long time since breakfast.”

They each took one of the offered sandwiches and wolfed them down, not realizing how hungry they were.

Mac wiped his mouth on his t-shirt, wondering how Trufante could be so nonchalant. He headed towards the forward berth. After a quick check of her pulse and breathing he was satisfied Mel was not in imminent danger. He watched her rest. She reminded him of a baby - angelic while asleep - demonic when awake. Without thinking about it, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. She stirred and turned away from him as if spurning his advance, so he left her, went back up, and changed his tank out for a fresh one. 

“We’re gonna do this the same as the other one. You might as well rest a bit.” He turned and spoke to the Navy man. “I’ll find the bomb and let this buoy out on the site. You guys move the boat right on top of it. I'll set the anchor where I want it and surface. Then we can both go in and get the bomb out.”

Mac caught the crewman’s glance as his eyes followed the blood dripping from his wound to the deck.

“Maybe ought to have a look at that first. Probably better if I go down,” the diver said.

He grudgingly gave in. Another shark drawn by the blood from the wound would only hinder the recovery. Trufante put down his beer long enough to help Mac clean and properly bandage his wound. Arm patched, Mac paced the deck waiting for the diver to surface.

Mac and Trufante sat on the transom, feet resting on the dive platform. Mac was uneasy, glancing frequently at the cabin door, hoping Mel would appear. Then he scanned the water for the buoy. Trufante looked more like he was enjoying a day at the beach, as if he had no idea of the danger they were in. Mac rose quickly as the buoy broke the surface and headed to the helm. “Tru, go up and let off on the anchor. I think you can leave it hooked. I’ll let the current drift us back on the buoy.”

The boat floated towards the buoy. Mac yelled for Trufante to tie off the line when it hit the dive platform. They repeated the procedure they had used on the first bomb, easier with three, the recovery went smoothly, and they were soon heading back to Marathon, bomb braced on the deck. 

Mac turned on the running lights and settled back in his chair. The wind had dropped, taking the seas with it. The waves were mere ripples on the water now, the bow of the boat cutting through them like butter. Still anxious about Mel, he relaxed for the first time in days, one bomb secure on his deck, the other safe at Wood's.

Chapter 53

The sun was setting now but the three men remained in their hiding spot under the house. Except for the spiders, it wasn’t bad. Cooler than outside, at least. The tour boat had come back about an hour ago and there had been a steady stream of traffic passing by ever since.

“We need to move soon. When will these people go away?”

“How should I know?” Doans answered. Ibrahim was getting antsy. Behzad was passed out.

“As soon as it is dark, we need to go. If there are casualties, it is Allah’s will. We have been too long here already. The bomb could have been brought in and we would never know.”

“You weren’t going to serve your god in jail either. You know they’re looking for us for stealing that boat. We go when it gets dark,” Doans agreed.

***

The Inspector General’s office at CNIC in Jacksonville was busy. Several men and women were in a conference room, monitoring the activity in the Keys. They were locked into Gordon’s radio channel, hearing everything broadcast. This was mostly background noise, as the contact was intermittent. The only action was the blur of fingers over the laptops operated by a handful of technicians — one researching the Vice President’s connection to Gillum and Key West, several others researching types of bombs that could be out there … and how to diffuse them. The terrorist connection reported by the sheriff in Marathon had added a layer of tension to the room. There was an open link to Homeland Security, who were suddenly interested.

“Ok, people.” Everyone looked to the front of the room. “Here’s where we are. We know Gillum, Woodson and Ward served together. It looks like it was Gillum as aviation ordnanceman and Woodson as engineer. Ward was the pilot. We’re still digging, but all the nukes look like they’re accounted for, although plenty of ordnance was ditched or dumped.” He turned to the radio man. “Get Gordon to take a picture of that thing with his phone and send it. Then we can identify it.”

He turned back to the room. “If it
is
a nuke then these three, and that includes the VP, are up to their eyeballs in some kind of coverup. I think we need to have a look at Ward’s phone records.”

“No way,” one of the women answered. She was an attorney involved to make sure this investigation stayed legit. “You’re not going to get the Vice President’s records without a court fight. We don’t have time. There is another way, though. Gillum’s cell phone is Navy issue. We don’t need permission to check that. We can back trace the numbers. See if we can connect any dots.”

“Excellent. Let’s get that moving.”

Someone else started typing. It took a minute while the room waited in silence. “Pulling up now … Here we go. There have been a half dozen calls from a DC number in the last forty-eight hours. Same number, checking … Here you go. It is registered to Ward’s traveling secretary.”

“There’s enough to confirm his involvement. Now let’s find out what we’re dealing with and neutralize the bomb.” He got up to leave. “I’m going to call the White House.”

***

There was still activity on the island as the sun descended below the horizon, but it looked like it was all moving in the direction of the dining hall. “We go now.” Ibrahim said. He shook Behzad to wake him, amazed he’d been able to sleep.

They pushed out the loose section of lattice and moved toward the road in single file. Doans led, the two terrorists trailing behind. 

“This way. Just be cool. No one is going to question anything in the dark. As soon as we hit the old bridge, it’s only a couple miles to Marathon.” 

Behzad looked green at the thought. “I’m hungry.”

The other men, more worried about saving their skin or completing God’s work, ignored him. They moved swiftly toward the old section of the Seven Mile Bridge and started to walk in the direction of the lights on shore. It was deserted for the first mile or so, then they started hitting tourists watching the sunset or walking in the cooler evening air. As they got closer to land, the bridge became more crowded. But no one gave them a second look as they crossed the threshold to land. 

“The boat ramp. How far?”

“About a mile. Why there?”

“We have a truck there. It is also the most likely place for them to bring the bomb ashore. We will wait there.”

“Not me, I got you this far. I’m out.”

“Infidel.” Ibrahim withdrew Cesar’s gun from his waistband. “You squandered $25,000 of God’s money. You think you can walk away from that? You will do as I say. Walk.” Ibrahim was disgusted with the American. He vowed to send him to hell as soon as he was no longer needed. 

Doans didn’t respond. He just walked forward. 

The lights were closer now, but still a mile away. They walked in silence, Ibrahim not really noticing the other two. He watched Behzad’s body language - slumped forward and head down. He realized he was on his own now. With Allah’s blessing he could do this. He stayed alone in his thoughts, praying to Allah to help find the bomb. 

They walked in silence towards the boat ramp. It was quiet now, lights from several boats visible coming in from the gulf. They went to the Uhaul truck. “Now we wait.”

“What about some food?” Behzad asked. The chemicals had finally worked their way out of his system and he was famished. 

“Here.” Ibrahim tossed him the keys to the truck. “Get enough for several meals and get back here quick. Water as well.” He’d had enough of his old friend. 

***

Behzad turned the key and breathed a sigh of relief as the engine turned over. He pulled out of the parking lot. This was the first time in two days he had been out from under the constant scrutiny of Ibrahim. He briefly thought about heading back to Key West, and trying to put his old life back together, but realized he’d burned too many bridges. Cesar wasn’t going to take the loss of money and embarrassment lying down. He pulled into the Publix supermarket parking lot instead, and headed for the entrance. 

The cart swerved as he navigated the aisles, an open bag of chips in the child seat. He ate handfuls at a time, leaving a trail through the store. His cart loaded, he paid and exited the store. As he was pulling out of the lot, he noticed a bar and package store around the corner. With some cash still left, he was sure he had earned a drink.

***

Ibrahim and Doans made an unlikely couple hanging out at the boat ramp. They sat on the curb, waiting for Behzad. It’d been a while, almost too long, and Ibrahim was starting to worry, when the sheriff’s boat pulled up to the dock. The two men receded into the cover of the mangroves and watched. Minutes later, a sheriff’s cruiser pulled up and dropped a man off by their pickup and trailer. The deputy backed the truck up onto the ramp and waited as the deputy on the boat drove it onto the trailer. He gave a thumbs up and the truck pulled it from the water. The truck pulled up next to the cruiser, windows rolled down, the deputies chatting. 

***

“I’m going to see what they are up to. I need to know if they have any idea where we are.” Doans said as he skirted the brush, moving toward the vehicles. Just as he was about to close the distance and get into hearing range, he was caught in the headlights of a truck moving toward the boat ramp.