Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series) (29 page)

“Good idea,” Deuce said and pulled his own phone out. “Jesse, wait until we have security outside her house.”
I’m not what you’d call a real patient man. Charity came out of the house and sensed something was going on as I paced the deck.

Deuce punched a couple of button
s on his phone and after a second he said, “Sorry to wake you, Colonel. There’s been a development.” He told him what happened with Doc and Nikki, gave him the short version on Darchevsky and relayed my concern about Jackie. Then he ended the call.

“He said he’ll
contact the station’s CO and have Shore Patrol send two officers over. When they’re outside, they’ll call me direct. He said the safest thing to do would be for them to escort her to the air station and we can pick her up in the morning.”

“Morning hell,” I said. “When I know she’s safe, I’m taking the Cigarette to pick her up tonight.”

Julie got up and came over to me, “Calm down, Jesse. Going down there in the middle of the night isn’t smart and you know it. She’ll be safe at the station and besides even in the Cigarette it would take you nearly two hours to get there and back. And that’s only if you don’t hit something or run aground.”

I paced some more. After several excruciating minutes, Deuce
’s phone chirped. He answered it, listened for a minute and said, “Okay, sit tight.” Then looking up to me he said, “Go ahead and call her, they’re parked outside the house and everything’s quiet.”

I pulled up her number and hit send. After the third ring she answered groggily.
“Jackie, it’s me, Jesse.”

“Timzit,” she mumbled.

I looked at my watch and said, “It’s 0300. Something’s happened.”

She was instantly awake, “What’s wrong?”

“Someone took a shot at Doc Talbot and his wife. The shooter missed, but he’s been identified as an associate of the man who tried to kill us out on the boat the other day.”

“Oh my. Where are you?”

“I’m on the island. Look, there’s a Shore Patrol car outside your house. I think you should go with them to the air station and stay there tonight. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

There was a moment of silence and some rustling noise. “Yeah, I see them.
It’ll take me a minute to get dressed.”

“Call me back when you’re in the car, okay.”

“Are you sure this is necessary?”

“The guy’s a former CIA deep cover operative and a Russian natural. He’s dangerous.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll call you in a few minutes.”

I ended the call and told Deuce, “Tell them she’ll be out in five minutes.”

He relayed the message and ended the call. Deuce handed me the complete file on Darchevsky and I sat down under the torch to read it while we waited. Some parts of it were redacted, even with Chyrel’s ability to get information. He wasn’t a simple flunky like the other two had been. This guy was the real deal, responsible for at least five assassinations in Western Europe. He was probably the leader of the three man team.

As if reading my thoughts, Deuce said, “My guess is that the other two guys worked for Darchevsky. Smith might have put them together, but this guy’s the boss.”

“Yeah, that was what I was thinking, too,” I said. “We need to get this guy off the streets. Did Stockwell say anything about alerting local law enforcement?”

“He said for me to use my best judgment. I’ll go down and
have Chyrel put an APB out on him for all of south Florida.”

Five minutes went by, then ten. Finally my phone chirped. When I answered it, Jackie was breathing hard and said in a rushed voice, “Jesse, there was a shooting. I’m fine, but one of the officers was hit. He’ll probably be alright, I’m taking him into emergency surgery now. I can’t talk, but I’ll call you when I come out.” The call ended.

“What’s going on?” Charity asked. My face must have shown my reaction to the call.

“One of the officers was shot
,” I said. “Jackie’s taking him into surgery now.” First Deuce and me, then Doc and Nikki, and now Jackie. I felt a surge of anger rushing up from my gut. The slow burn turned white hot and my mind began moving faster, planning out the next series of events. I’d felt this way under fire in Somalia, Iraq, and Grenada. It sharpened everything. My vision, hearing, and smell all became acute, along with my ability to think far ahead.

I looked at my watch. It was almost 0400. Time to sound reveille. “Deuce, I think it’s time we stop letting Smith take the lead now.”

He stood up and I could see
an equally forceful resolve in his eyes. “Charity,’ he said. “Go down and let Chyrel know I need a video comm link to Stockwell and ask him to patch in the Secretary and the head of the FBI. And tell Art to sound reveille in the bunkhouses, but be quiet so as not to disturb the Trents.”

As she turned and headed down the steps, I said,
“Deuce, we only have tomorrow to find this guy. Well, that’s today actually.”

“I know,” he said. “The good thing is, on Fridays everyone is coming into the Keys. We can have the Sheriff set up a roadblock in Key Largo to check out anyone going north and disguise it as a sobriety checkpoint.”

“Doc,” I said. “You and Nikki go down and crash in the boat. You can get at least a couple of hours sleep. Nothing’s going to happen until sunrise.”

Doc started to protest, but I insisted. Once they left, the three of us headed down to the bunkhouses. Tony
and Sherri were already outside and Deuce motioned for him to join us. I stopped at the tables and lit the six torches around them, before following Deuce into the women’s quarters.

“The Colonel and Director Mueller are online,” Chyrel said. “Secretary Chertoff will be on any second.”

Deuce sat down in front of the laptop and said, “Good morning Colonel. Good morning Director. Sorry to bother you so early, but we’ve had two developments in the last hour that you both should be aware of.”

Just as he finished speaking a third window opened and Chertoff said gruffly, “What’s this all about?”

“We’ve had two serious developments, sir,” Deuce repeated.

Stockwell and Mueller both greeted the Secretary and Deuce continued, “Yesterday afternoon in Key West an unknown assailant fired two shots at one of our team and his wife. He missed, but Talbot’s wife got a good look at him and identified Dimitri Darchevsky as the shooter. You should all have his bio on your screen.”

“You said two developments?” Mueller asked.

“Yes sir,” Deuce continued unflustered. “Thirty minutes ago, while two members of NAS
Boca Chica were picking up Commander Burdick, who was with us last weekend when the President was attacked, shots were fired, wounding one of the officers. We believe it to be Darchevsky.”

“What’s the connection?” Chertoff asked.

“We believe Darchevsky was the leader of the two men that attacked the President and tried to attack us here on the island. All three are known associates of Jason Smith and we believe he is in route here with a bomb.”

“What kind of bomb?” Chertoff asked.

Deuce motioned Tony over. “Mister Secretary, I’m Special Warfare Officer First Class Anthony Jacobs, EOD. The bomb has been described as a professionally assembled IED, if you will. It contains a shaped charge of semtex inside a small drum filled with nails. The charge alone is enough to completely obliterate a 2000 square foot concrete building. The shape is made to cause maximum casualties in a 45 degree arc from the source to a distance of 200 feet. Anyone inside that arc and distance will certainly be killed. Severe injuries will result out another 200 feet.”

“How can we assist you, Commander,” asked Mueller.

“I’m taking my team proactive, sir. We’d like you to pave the way with local law enforcement for our arrival in Key West at 0700, put out an APB on both Darchevsky and Smith, and ask the county Sheriff to set up a roadblock for outgoing traffic in Key Largo, disguised as a DUI checkpoint. We’re going to find him and apprehend him.”

“With the Secretary’s permission, I’ll get right on it. We already have assets in Key West and I’ll have two more agents out of the Miami field office join them. They’ll meet you at the Sheriff’s office. Anything else?”

“Yes sir,” I said. “Can you arrange for two nine passenger vans to meet us at Boca Chica Marina on board the Air Station? We’ll be arriving by boat.”

“I’ll send
the Miami agents down in our two tactical vehicles. They can carry 13 passengers each. What’s your plan, Commander?”

“We believe the attacks on Talbot and Burdick were meant to draw us out, sir.”

“By proactive,” Stockwell said, “you mean to set yourselves up as targets?”

“Yes, Colonel,” Deuce replied. “That’s exactly what I mean.
This team was assembled to search out and neutralize terrorist threats in the Caribbean. With the attack on the President, and the use of this explosive device, in my opinion this qualifies as a terrorist threat and Key West is pretty much within our prescribed jurisdiction.”

Chertoff said,
“While your opinion may be open to interpretation, your team is uniquely qualified to conduct just such an operation. You have a green light, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir,” Deuce said.

“Deuce,” Stockwell said. “Be careful. I’ll have an open line to both the Secretary and the Director. I’m leaving DC within the hour and will meet you at the Air Station. Keep me updated.”

All three screens winked
off nearly at once. “Let’s saddle up the troops,” Deuce said. “Chyrel, activate all personal comm gear with tracking activated and link us all together. Print out 20 copies of Darchevsky’s photo. Jesse, I’m putting you in charge of half the team, Kumar the other half. Scott, Julie and I will use the
Revenge
as a command and control center.”

We walked outside. The sky was just beginning to lighten to the east. The team was assembled around the tables, including Doc. “Nikki’s done in,” he said. “She’s crashed in the crew cabin.”

“And you’re not?” I asked.

“
No,” he replied simply.

“Everyone take a seat,” Deuce said from the end of the table.

When everyone was seated, he brought them up to speed on the developments of the previous twelve hours. He broke everyone up into two teams, Alpha and Bravo. I had Doc, Tony, Jared, Charity, Dawson, Grayson, and Simpson in Bravo. Kumar had Art, Sherri, Hinkle, Mitchel, Bourke and Goodman in Alpha.

“Everyone dress in civilian clothes, long pants and
DHS windbreakers,” Deuce said. “We’ll leave here aboard Jesse’s boat in one hour and arrive at the marina on the Air Station, where we’ll board two FBI tactical vehicles. Scott, you and Julie will stay with me aboard the boat. Your earwigs all have tracking software and from the boat we’ll be able to follow each of you.”

Chyrel came out and passed out the photos of Darchevsky. “This is Dimitri Darchevsky,” Deuce said. “He’s a Russian national raised in California. He used to be with the CIA and has been responsible for several assassinations in Eastern Europe. He’s considered extremely dangerous. When we get to Key West, both teams will proceed to the Sheriff’s Office on
Whitehead Street, accompanied by an FBI driver. There you’ll meet up with two more FBI Agents and the Watch Commander for the Sheriff’s Department. Every law enforcement officer in the Keys has received an APB with Darchevsky’s photo, from the Marine Patrol to Shore Patrol and everyone in between. I want you all to spread out through the city on foot and check every hotel, motel, resort, rental house, and flop house on the island.”

Hinkle raised his hand and said, “What weapons are we to carry, mate?”

Deuce grinned, “Bring your long gun, Donnie. Jesse, where should they set up?”

“The two tallest structures on the island are the lighthouse and the
La Concha. The lighthouse has a clear view all the way up Truman and Whitehead in both directions. The roof of La Cocha has a clear view up both Duval and Fleming.”

“Donnie you take La Concha. Jared, are you comfortable perching in the lighthouse? It’ll be eyes only, I’m sure and you won’t have a spotter.”

“Yes sir,” Jared replied. “Eyes only.”

“I can spot for him,” Charity said. “I’ve b
een working with Julie doing it and we can see more with two pair of eyes up there.”

“
Okay, we’ll have Key West PD provide security on the ground at the lighthouse and on the roof of La Concha. Everyone else will carry side arms only. Concealed. We don’t want to upset the civilians. Any questions?”

“If we find him, do we take him down or just alert the locals,” Kumar asked.

“DHS has the lead, with backup from the Feebs and locals. If you spot him and can take him down without risk to any civilians, do it. If there’s any risk at all, call for backup. Chyrel has us all on the same comm and will provide instant location to send the nearest backup. Anything else?”

Nobody said anything more. “Go gear up and be up on the deck in 15 minutes.”

As everyone started toward the bunkhouses, Deuce pulled Jared aside, “Get with Tony, he always carries an extra wind breaker. I’m going out on a limb, but you’re officially a part of this team on Jesse’s word.”

“I’m good, sir,” he said. “Being here has been a huge blessing for me and everyone has been a great help. Thanks
for the opportunity.”

Deuce and I watched as he walked toward the bunkhouse. “Charity will keep an eye on him, Deuce.”

Doc and I headed across the clearing. I needed a quick shower while Doc got the engines started and the boat ready for departure. Ten minutes later, I was dressed and on the bridge. Doc had already woke Nikki, and she’d reluctantly remain on the island until we returned. A few minutes later, the team started boarding by ones and twos. Deuce and Julie were last to board, carrying two briefcases. While my boat’s not exactly designed to accommodate 18 people, we were only going to be aboard for a little over an hour. Deuce, Doc, and Kumar joined me on the bridge as I idled south toward Harbor Channel.

While I switched on the radar, sonar, UHF and VHF radios,
Deuce made a comm check to insure everyone’s ear wigs were functioning properly and checked with Chyrel to make sure all 18 identifiers were reporting.

A moment later I brought the
Revenge
up on plane heading northeast toward Harbor Key Bank and the narrow cut to the open Gulf. Sunrise would be in less than a half hour, but it was already light enough to see the crab trap markers for the cut.

Once in open, deep water, I pushed the throttles to the stops and the big boat surged forward reaching its top speed of 49 knots in just a few seconds. I made a slow
, sweeping turn on the flat, Gulf water to the southwest and entered the north jetty markers for Northwest Channel as a waypoint on the GPS. The autopilot corrected our heading a few degrees and showed an estimated arrival of 32 minutes.

We never slowed down as I made the turn into Northwest Channel
. Early morning boat traffic on a Friday is always very light and in fact we only passed a single fishing boat coming out of the channel before we turned into it. Ten minutes later, I turned due east around Whitehead Spit and skirted the south side of Key West. Somewhere on that island we hoped to find Darchevsky. But, it was going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

As we approached the two story tall light that marked Boca Chica Channel, I slowly brought the
Revenge
down off plane and turned northeast into the channel. Once we were in the marina basin, I reversed the starboard engine, skidding the boat sideways while still moving toward the dock. Standing up and using my back on the wheel, I reversed the port engine and backed the
Revenge
alongside the main dock at the far end, where two large, black vehicles sat with revolving blue lights on the roof.

Doc was on the bow and Dawson at the stern and they had us tied off before I even shut down the engines. The Dockmaster started our way, but as soon as he recognized the
Revenge
from the previous weekend and saw all the black DHS jackets, he quickly returned to the marina office.

I joined Deuce and Kumar and walked toward the
vehicles where the two FBI agents waited, a man and a woman. “Looks like the DHS has just invaded the Conch Republic,” the man said. “I’m Special Agent Harry Sherman and this is Special Agent Amanda Elson.”

“Deuce Livingston,
Caribbean Counter-Terrorism Command,” Deuce said shaking hands with both agents. “These are my team leaders, Kumar Sayef and Jesse McDermitt.”

“We were briefed on the manhunt and I was instructed to give your
people a ride to the Sheriff’s office and basically be at your beck and call.”

“
We appreciate that,” Deuce said, ignoring the sarcasm. The Bureau didn’t like being on the following end of any investigation. “Our team is made up primarily of former and current SpecOps people from all branches of the military. Any help the Bureau can provide in finding this man will be needed.”

A Gulfstream G-5 flew over on approach and I noticed it had
DHS markings. “That’ll be the Director, Deuce.”

Minutes later, a Navy sedan pulled up and Stockwell got out of the passenger side, along with
an older man who carried a large case. He looked to be in his 60’s but carried himself like a man half his age, as the two walked toward us.

“Director Stockwell, these are Special Agents Sherman and Elson,” Deuce said. Then turning to me he said, “Jesse, meet Jim Franklin. He’s got some electronics to set up, would you show him aboard.