2:23 AM South Eastern Gulf of Mexico
Emil
studied the meticulous charts he always kept and glanced at the quivering
body. "Increase the drug load. We have received a
warning. Start the third series of tapes. He must be finished
early."
3:54 AM Miami
Sonny's memories of Benny's 24 hour Restaurant were forever coloured
by the hideous time of the Wacko night prowler case.
Sonny still shivered at the dreams it had given him. Castillo had
let him go all the way to the thin edge of madness with that one.
The barrier between conscious and unconscious had become so strung out
that Sonny still was not quite sure which experiences were real or
not. And in that strange place near madness, or exhaustion driven
ESP, he had made the right connections barely in time to save people's
lives.
The funny things was, Benny's really hadn't changed at all. It
STILL seemed surreal. Nightlife did that to 24 hour joints, but
Benny's had always seemed like a place out of the twilight zone.
Sonny parked the gleaming
midnight Ferrari and they walked toward Benny's. Even this late the
air was thick and hot, Crockett suddenly remembered that it felt like a
storm was rolling in.
"You remember that stakeout at the beach when we just about died of heat
stroke at midnight?" Rico smiled at Sonny.
"How could I
forget? Nice easy summer sweatbox stakeout, turns into weirder than
shit spooks, spies, and assassins."
Rico's smile twisted as he
looked at Sonny.
"Hey, it's not THAT hot." Sonny didn't smile this time.
"Not yet."
When they reached the door Switek and Arnie pulled up across the
street. They waited outside for the other two.
"Did you
catch Gina?"
"Yeah.
Trudy was outside when we got there, Gina showed up while she gave us the
score. Trudy said the Feds have moved into the OCB for the duration
now."
Rico
tilted his head a little. "Do you want to trust them with anything we
know?"
"Not
much."
- As Switek spoke a car approached, it was Gina and
Trudy. They pulled up in front of Benny's. Gina leaned
out of her window.
- "Sonny. We can't work out of the OCB."
- Sonny shook his head.
- "We need resources."
- "I know where to get some."
- "Where?"
- "I'm calling in a marker. Rico, I got your cell
number. I should know inside an hour."
With that,
Trudy pulled away and the two detectives sped into the hot wet
night.
Switek
watched them disappear into the neon darkness.
"I
guess there's only one question now."
Sonny
looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What?"
Swi waved
his hand at Benny's windows with a Grimace. "Breakfast or
dinner?"
4:44 AM Miami, Cruz family residence
The sweeping lawn of the Cruz mansion had a spectacular view of the
ocean and parts of the Miami skyline. The city lights were still
brilliant, but now the promise of dawn faded the blue-black sky.
The Cruz family house had a fine setting on the water. Every window
on the seaward side gave a breathtaking view, and it had appeared in more
then one magazine photo spread.
Four people sat at a small table before one of those windows on the
ground floor. Phillipe Cruz the head of the family shipping
business, sat with his mother facing Trudy and Gina across the
table. All four clutched coffee cups. Phillipe had dressed
hurriedly, and lacked some of his usual GQ polish; his mother managed to
look royally gracious in an all-covering caftan. Gina had been
talking for a long time, with occasional input from Trudy. Phillipe
and his mother had been listening closely without interrupting.
Gina stopped for a long moment and took a breath. "This is where we
stand, and we can't call on our department for backup without the Feds
getting involved."
Philippe put his cup down. "I am glad you came to me. What
ever I have is yours to use. I owe him."
5:14 Benny's, Miami
Sonny
had been a little queasy on learning that Benny's 24-Hour restaurant was
still in business. He'd spent parts of too many long nights there
and none of them were pleasant memories.
Places like Benny's were an essential part of city life, Sonny just
wished they could be meeting somewhere else.
Rico thought the food hadn't changed at all, still neither very good, or
very bad. Frankly the place gave him the creeps. It looked
like the exact same people eating the same food as if the years between
had been folded away and only a day had passed.
Sonny glanced curiously at Switek noticing what he was eating.
"You on a diet Stan? You used to get 3 of those for
breakfast." Switek raised an eyebrow wistfully.
"Life style change. I hit the weight limit in the department and I
got sick of feeling fat. Funny thing, it was after I lost 40
pounds, I finally made Sargent."
At that moment an electronic chirp sounded from one of Arnie's
pockets. He pulled out a cellphone that had duct tape on one side
and flicked it open. "Bug Killers. You got'em we'll
get'em."
Sonny's mouth dropped open and both Stan and Rico burst out
laughing. Arnie waved a hand for silence. "Okay.
Yeah. I gotcha." At that moment Rico's cell phone
chirped. The black detective rose and gestured that he'd take his
call outside. Arnie rubbed his forehead. "Oh shit. Huh,
I'm waiting for a call. I...uh, yeah, you are absolutely right.
Could you cover all of us?
Swear to God I'll call you back in an hour. Yes." He listened
a moment longer, then shut the phone and let out a gusty sigh. Then
he noticed the other two staring hard at him.
"Huh?"
Crockett's eyes narrowed. Rico returned from outside and sat down looking
much happier.
"Hey Crockett, it's a great day to be alive, man!"
Still waiting on Arnie, Sonny remarked, "Yeah, or beat someone to
death, depending on your disposition."
Rico
realized the other two were looking expectantly at Arnie and joined the
group stare. Arnie became a little flustered, as if he seldom got
so much scrutiny.
"Uh..That was Marco. He's back. He's in the OCB. He's
gonna cover for us all not being there. But I gotta call him back
so our stories will match."
Sonny nodded,
"Great. I gotta meet this guy. He sounds Like King Con
Artist."
Rico spoke up. "It'll have to wait. Gina's marker came
in. the Cruz family. Deep pockets, boats, firepower. I
got a dock address. We need to go."
It felt so
dam awkward to see these people again after so many years. The old
song by Sting kept running through his head.
I'll be watching
you. He'd heard it blasting out of a radio today and it was
stuck on a loop in his head now. He still carried an aimless sense
of guilt about the Cruz family. What had started out as an
investigation of A Drug shipping operation run by Phillipe's father, had
radically shifted into a murder investigation. While they had begun
the case with the premise that Phillipe returned home from his New York
Law career to take over the family business, things had gone sharply
sideways from there. Phillipe had only come home to visit an
ex-lover dying of AIDS. While they were only beginning learn
that. Papa Cruz had murdered his wife's brother, a Catholic
priest. In the bizarre belief that being Phillipe's confessor and
running an AIDS Hospice had somehow made Phillipe Homosexual. In
the end, Papa Cruz had gone to prison with his favorite son and Phillipe
HAD taken over the family business. It was no longer quite
so rich; neither did it run drugs.
They
worked out of an office overlooking the Cruz docks. Studying maps,
and using radios to check on ships. Clouds blew in gradually
thickening to a full overcast and it began to rain lightly. Stan
and Trudy went out on one of the small boats wearing borrowed
rain-slickers. Trudy remarked gloomily before leaving. "We'll
call you when the hurricane starts."
Arnie left on another boat that wore the Cruz Company name. Sonny noticed
it was loaded with radar and radio antennas. Phillipe was going all
out. Every ship they had was taking the time to look. He had
even ordered some to change course slightly to cover more area.
They were all headed toward CDRF 1, a marker buoy south of Florida , in
the Gulf of Mexico. As the afternoon wore on and piles of notes and
lists grew, the clouds began to break up and the sun turned the damp into
suffocating heat. Sonny studied the charts they were working with
for a moment. Then announced,
"I'm going back to the Marina and get the Scarab. We really need
more people on the water."
Rico looked up with a grin, "You sure you still know how to drive
one?"
The blonde detective gave him a look.
"We'll find out." Be ready for a rough ride."
"I'll borrow a life jacket."
Sonny shook his head with a snort. He picked up a sack of
sandwiches and pop on the way to the boat. It was likely to be a
very long evening on the water. After parking the Marenello, he
studied the Scarab thoughtfully. Power and speed, screamed every
inch of the long sleek cigarette boat. "Baby, you are what I
need." Frustration and anxiety eating at his nerves always
vanished, soothed by the raw power he controlled while driving one of
these toys. It was years, but his hands found the controls like
slipping into a glove. The scarab was gassed up and ready to
fly. He eased it out of the Marina gently and then brought it up to
speed. Even the bone cracking bounces felt good right now.
9:45 AM Miami
Izzy Moreno wore his second best lawyer suit. He had changed
clothes several times today, spending time on countless Commercial Docks
and in endless offices. Sweating, nervous, by turns patient or
pushy. He looked like a man desperately trying to sell
something. This interested Reese. The tall skinny Cuban was
an enigma. His agenda was unknown. It seemed to have nothing
what ever to do with Castillo. Yet Castillo's Unit had gone out of
the way to make contacts with him. Reese had a feeling there was
more to Izzy than met the eye. He watched Izzy entering a Dock office
carrying a clipboard and briefcase for the twentieth time. This was
enough for now, he would have his own watchers check on the Cubano.
One of the cellphones vibrated in a pocket.
Washington DC
The office looked vaguely
governmental. It was not, but it managed to fool enough people.
Dale Menton moved around the room carrying a gold plated cordless
phone. He was irritated, he'd left Miami with the assurance that
everything was going well.
"Reese. I'm getting reports that people are looking for
Castillo. What's going on?"
"Don't call me at this number."
Menton practically screamed into the telephone. "I'll call you
anywhere I want to! You Judas Goat! I'm paying you! What's
going on!"
Far away from Washington, a strange dangerous smile quirked the corner of
Reese's mouth. "I'm keeping an eye on things. I'll get back to
you." Reese closed the cellphone casually and tossed it over a railing
into the water as he walked away
9:47 AM OCB Offices
Mel McKinnin walked into the OCB offices carrying a huge pile of
folders. The place was virtually empty other then the Feds who were
still using the conference room. A tall thirty-something man with black
hair and an odd spade beard sat at a desk surrounded with heaps of
papers. McKinnin stopped and frowned.
"Where is everybody? Who are YOU?"
Marco looked up, voice bright and engagingly sincere.
"Good morning Sir. I'm Marco Zules. I just got back from St
Louis. I'm working on the Rio Dezipas case."
"Where is everyone?"
Marco picked up a sheet of paper. "Gina and Trudy are doing a
stakeout on the Rio Dezipas case. Arnie and Stan are down at metro
working on the Van. Repairing some of the sound equipment."
McKinnin was still frowning woodenly.
"What about Crockett?"
At the sound of the name 'Crockett' one of the Federal Agents leaned out
of the conference room with a questioning look on his face.
"Huh, I believe he's with Gina and Trudy learning about stakeouts."
At this, the Fed smiled faintly. "Sonny Crockett?"
McKinnin turned with a deepening frown. "Yes. Why?"
"Nothing. I knew a guy named Crockett once."
4:22 PM Gulf of Mexico
The day spun out slowly. They took turns napping, knowing it
was going to be a long night. The scarab had not been designed for
comfortable lolling. Slowly tightening the search area.
Hours spent looking at other boats, pretending to fish, looking at open
water. Rico found himself remembering one of the brief conversations with
Castillo so many years ago. He'd been acting like a jackass, and
fully expecting one of the Lieutenant's withering remarks.
Castillo had merely looked at him for a long cool moment, the fathomless
black eyes considering him. "Take some night school classes.
Learn something new. Your mind is like a house; it needs to be
furnished. Don't let this work be your whole life, or you will wake
up one day with nothing." Then the man walked away.
Tubbs had been completely shocked. And then he had begun to think
about it. There WAS life after Vice. Funny though, he'd
Never really been aware that Castillo had any other life at all.
They were both awake, eating sandwiches shortly before twilight when Rico
smiled at Sonny saying,
"Man, I'll never forget that time Castillo pulled my butt out of the
fire in that prison yard. I knew I was dead, I was just tryin to be
hard to finish. I could not believe when he showed up...it was so
out of the blue. The tower guards were shooting, everyone was
screaming and running, and all of a sudden there he is. All he said
was 'Get up.'"Tubbs shook his head, with a half smile at the
memory. "It was so hard to believe! I was like
completely stupid, just staring at him.
How did he DO that? It was like he could walk through walls.
He would just show up, or disappear, and you never heard him
coming."
"Yeah." Sonny snorted. "I remember that. I was
going nuts in the van. Castillo said 3 words the whole time he was
in there! You know how some guys babble when they're on the
wire?"
Rico grinned at Sonny. "Not Castillo." They both smiled.
9:49 PM Gulf of Mexico
Sonny
felt increasingly edgy. It was a feeling of something coming.
Like that damn song that was so popular back then.
In The Air
Tonight, Yeah, he could feel it in the air tonight. Something
big and awful coming closer and closer until things just blew up.
The night wore on. They talked fishing from boat to boat using
coded phrases. A thin sickle moon set in the late late purple
twilight heat. Soft wisps of cloud lightened the sky for a long time
before a few stars began to show in the thick humid air.
They were starting to move in. The night was deepening.
Sonny's stomach knotted with anxiety. He wished he was still
smoking. Each boat was armed, but no where near as heavily as Sonny
would have liked. They were closing in on a situation with too many
questions. They had a code set up to call in help from a waiting
Coast Guard Contact. But the guard had to stay out of sight.
The first boat within sighting range would call in a distress.
Sonny had primed Gina with several calls about persistent engine
trouble. Gina's voice crackled over the radio.
"Do you need assistance St. Vitus 2?"
Sonny picked up his radio
handset. "We're doing okay, but I think it's gonna break down any
minute."
Gina's voice returned.
"We'll keep an open channel St Vitus 2."
God! Sonny hated this kind of waiting. Your nerves
just got tighter and tighter waiting for everything to explode.
So many nights like this in the old days. Just waiting for things
to happen. Waiting for a single moment, a single key piece of
information. Sometimes when it finally happened, it was not at all
what you wanted or expected.
Sonny remembered the
Savage, and the Horrible rented house on
Floridian, 2345 Floridian. Huge, all glass and mirrors. He'd
arrived with Tubbs following Castillo's call for backup. But
Castillo's car was not there where he'd expected it, and he didn't know
what to make of that. They went in knowing they were up against a
stone cold Assassin who had over a hundred kills using a knife alone, and
no hesitation at killing anything in his way. Sonny would have
preferred a dark room filled with tarantulas.
The gate
stood open in the ten foot security wall surrounding the house.
Sirens were approaching behind them as they passed through. There
was nothing but a terrifying silence within. The first
dead guard lay inside the gate, another inside the front door.
Adrenaline screamed through his veins with each step
they took in the dim house. The interior was all pastel, filled
with weird bluish light from some artsy fixture, reflected and twisted
through glass and mirrors everywhere. Sonny hated all the glass and
mirrors, twice he almost fired at a reflection. The second time he
saw a crouching body in black leather.
The
assassin.
A split
second before he fired, he realized he was seeing a reflection, changed
angle. No movement, the smell of pointblank weapons discharge, the
reek of blood. Blood spattered on the wall to his left. That
last cautious step to check the body had been one of the worst moments in
his Vice career. Etched in his brain forever. A few inches
around the hall corner Castillo lay in a spreading pool of blood.
That awful
moment when the sharp bile hit the back of his throat and he thought he'd
throw up. Then he'd heard the hoarse shallow breathing and realized
Marty was still alive. Please
God, let his luck hold.
Marty if you're there, hold on.
Monday 1:47 AM Gulf of Mexico
The Gulf breeze was warm, laden with salt, heat and all the scents
that brought too many memories back. Water lapped the sides of the
scarab discordantly as they moved across the waves.
Sonny shook his head. He turned his face North into the wind, and
prayed fervently that this would work. He had to believe this would
work, nothing else was acceptable. Rico hissed, "Sonny! I see
lights! Check it out."
The blond detective grabbed his binoculars.
"YES!"
They started moving
in. The ship name became visible with binoculars.
COWBOY. Sonny spoke calmly into his radio link, allowing no anxiety
in his voice. "Sorry folks this is Vitus 2, our engine is
kaput but the fish are running here. Bring your gear."
Tubbs smiled hungrily,
binoculars nailed to the boat they were trailing.
"So that's them, quite a boat they've got. You're sure he's on
it."
Sonny focused his binoculars again.
"Best information we've got."
"You mean the only information."
Sonny checked the horizon and saw the other boat lights.
The other boats were moving in fast. Sonny studied the big ship as
they approached slowly. It was a Greek tycoon sized yacht, three
decks above the water. He wondered what sort of crew worked a boat
like this. And how well armed they might be. It was time to
call in the Coast Guard. It was casually lit up, more then running
lights and less then party time. For all it's size he saw no signs
of life. With a boat that size, there might be an army
aboard.
Just as Sonny was about to drop his glasses and pick up the radio
handset, he saw a figure coming on the back deck gesturing, two men came
up, carrying something.
For a split second Crockett was stunned breathless.
Dead?
No! The men went to the back rail, casually
hefted the body onto the rail, Sonny saw the face for a second before
they dropped it overboard!
"NO!" Sonny screamed, dropping the glasses.
Grabbing the wheel he went to full power, top speed. He stayed on
his feet, desperately keeping his eyes on the faint pale spot in the
water.
"Keep your eyes on the spot!" He yelled at Tubbs.
The big ship was moving out, and Sonny simply didn't care, that would
come later. The scarab engines roared. They were closing with
the spot, he was sure of it, the white blotch of a shirt was visible in
the dark water.
Spinning
the wheel to avoid overrunning the spot he yelled to Rico,
"Take it!" And did a flying dive off the boat into the warm
water. Saltwater burned his eyes, he'd marked the flash of white
and swam for that spot
It wasn't
easy, Rico cut the engines, making a wide soft circle, coming back at a
whisper of their previous speed. He turned the powerful side light
to shine down into the water. A head bobbed near the surface and Sonny
made contact, grabbing at hair and pulling the head out of the
water. Sonny struggled in the dark water with a limp body, trying
to keep from swallowing too much water, desperately out of swimming
practice. Suddenly he was close enough to the boat.
Rico was
shouting at him, hands reaching to grab hold of material and dragging
Castillo's limp body into the boat. Sonny crawled gasping and
choking water into the boat. He sagged to hands and knees coughing
water and gasped,
"Is he breathing?"
Tubbs had Marty face down pressing on his back, there was a gagging
sound, followed by wheezy breathing.
"Yeah, got him in time. He's breathing Okay."
It had been more than five years since he'd last seen Castillo.
This was a hell of a way to get together. Shaking water out of his
eyes, Sonny just sat in the bottom of the boat. From what he could
see, Marty didn't look much different. Just thinner. Then he caught
a glimpse of one arm in the reflected light, covered with great black and
purple bruises. What had they done to him? Why? Revenge
of some sort? God knows it was easy enough to make powerful enemies
in the drug wars.
Rico
suddenly looked out to sea.
"We lost 'em Sonny. They're putting on speed. They cut the
running lights."
"Call Arnie. See if they're on radar."
Tubbs went to the radio
and Sonny crawled to Castillo. His breathing was harsh and raw from
the near drowning. Sonny sat on the tiny deck and took Castillo's
body partly into his lap to ease the older man's breathing. The
Latino's face was gaunt, eyes sunken in bruised looking sockets.
He seemed to be breathing
steadily although it sounded bad, and right now that was the best they
could hope for. He whispered.
"God Marty, what have they done to you?"
