“Tell me about your time in the Army,” Bill said after they’d cruised for an hour without catching a single fish or spotting a single boat.
“Not much to tell. I fought in Desert Storm, came home, got no help from the government when I got back. Been trying to make it ever since.”
“Government,” Bill spat. “At least you got a chance to put them Islamics in their places.”
Matt shrugged.
“How about you, Joel?”
“No military service for me. I don’t follow directions too well. I’ve mostly worked for private security firms. We’re really hoping our new business venture will pan out. I mean, who doesn’t like to shoot?”
“Too many people in Key West.” Bill grimaced and shifted in his seat. “If you do open a shooting range, though, I can promise you’ll get plenty of business from the men’s group.”
“I’ve noticed we don’t fit in with many of the locals,” Joel said. “But the men’s group seems different. You all seem to be the out-of-doors type, like us.”
“You two do much climbing? Caving?” Bill asked.
“Hell, yes,” Matt said truthfully. “Been doing it since I was a kid.”
“We’ve got a retreat coming up that the two of you just might like. Nothing’s firm, yet. We just got word from the home church a few hours ago. If you’re interested, I’ll talk to Franks, put in a good word for you.”
Just then, a blip appeared on the radar. Bill noticed it at the same time as Matt.
“We just might have a fish.”
He zeroed in on the blip on their radar and, minutes later, they came upon three dark-skinned men floating on an inner tube raft. They paddled with old planks, but stopped when they spotted Domino. The two groups of men gazed at one another in silence until Matt spoke up.
“What’s the plan? Turn them in to the Coast Guard?”
“Hell, no. You know what happens when we do that? They get processed and then turned over to their families in Miami or wherever. They never get sent back where they came from.”
“And they stay here either living off the government dole or stealing jobs from Americans.” Joel had managed to remain in character, while Matt fought to keep his dinner down. He’d killed men in his day, but never a cold-blooded execution.
“I’ll give you the first shot.” Bill said it as if he were bestowing upon Matt a great honor.
Matt thought fast. If he hesitated, he, at best, lost any chance of having his ticket punched to the men’s group’s inner circle. Worst case, he might rouse suspicion, thus putting the mission, and perhaps himself and Joel, into danger. But he couldn’t kill the men on the raft, who had noticed the rifles and were frantically, and uselessly, struggling to paddle their raft away.
“Take us a bit farther away. I like a challenge, and this isn’t it.”
Bill considered this. “How far?”
“Fifty yards is good considering the limited light. Daylight, I’d make it farther.” He made a show of examining his rifle while Bill took them farther away from the terrified refugees. He’d only delayed the inevitable for a few moments. He looked at Joel, who appeared completely at ease. “You aren’t going to try to talk me into giving you the first shot?”
“Not at this distance. You’re the marksman in the family.”
Matt shrugged. “It’s your call.” He didn’t dare emphasize the last word, lest Bill notice, but he raised his eyebrows as he spoke.
Joel winked. Message received.
“This far enough?” Bill asked, cutting Domino’s engine.
“It’ll do.” Heart racing, stomach churning, Matt took aim. He had to make this shot perfect. Gently, he squeezed the trigger and felt the rifle buck against his shoulder. The shot boomed like thunder in the quiet night, the muzzle flash like lightning, and the men on the raft cried out in fear.
“You missed.” Bill sounded disappointed.
“Look again. I hit what I was aiming at.””
Bill leaned across the rail and squinted. “You were trying to hit the inner tube? What for?”
“Just watch.” Matt took aim again, taking as much time as he dared, and fired again. Another inner tube exploded. By the time he’d taken out three of the inner tubes, both Bill and the refugees understood his plan. The men were now desperately trying to paddle their raft away.
Bill, for his part, laughed and cheered Matt on. “Listen to them squeal!”
The sounds, both the laughter and the cries, sickened Matt. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, letting the pain distract him. A few more shots and the refugees would be in the water, either to drown or be finished off by Bill or Matt.
Another shot, and now the men clung to the few inner tubes that remained inflated. Matt understood enough Spanish to understand they were now begging for their lives.
“That’s what you get!” Bill shouted. “This ain’t your country!”
Matt considered turning the rifle on Bill, knowing that doing so would ruin everything, but he would not kill these helpless men.
“Someone’s coming!” Joel barked, tapping on the radar screen. Sure enough, a boat was approaching. Joel’s call had gotten through.
“Damn! Cold be the Coast Guard.” Bill took the wheel and turned Domino toward shore. “Sorry you didn’t get to finish the job,” he said to Matt. “But it was a good time.”
“How’d you do it?” Matt whispered.
“Texted Tam and Corey. One of them must have pulled the right strings.”
“Good work.” Matt replaced his rifle in the locker, grabbed another beer, and took a seat. He took a drink and tried to relax, but couldn’t. They’d avoided the close call with the refugees, but what might they encounter on the so-called retreat? Right then, he keenly felt Maddock’s absence. Matt hadn’t realized just how much he relied on his friend’s leadership and calming presence. Now he was on his own. He supposed he’d better be prepared for anything.
Chapter 21
“Maddock and Bones! Long time, no see!” The tall, lean man stepped out of the crowd at baggage claim in the Yonaguni Airport and approached Dane and Bones.
“Professor?” Dane couldn’t believe it. Pete “Professor” Chapman was an old Navy buddy with whom he and Bones had shared a few adventures during their days in the SEALs. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been sent to pick you up.” Professor glanced down at the ground. “I work with Jade Ihara. Well, I work for her.”
“Now that’s one heck of a coincidence.” Bones shook hands with Professor.
“I don’t know about that. She looked me up a few months ago and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. She said the two of you spoke highly of me. And I needed the money.” Professor shrugged.
“Okay, so not a coincidence, but I’m glad to see you all the same.” Dane slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and he and Bones followed Professor to their waiting car.
They spent the drive catching up with their old friend, though they avoided the subject of Jade. Professor had lived up to his nickname, earning his PhD after leaving the SEALs and working at the university level. “I never managed to secure tenure. They always blamed in on budget constraints, but I suspect it’s my demeanor.”
“What? You were the mellowest guy in our platoon,” Dane said.
“I was mellow by SEAL standards. The average college kid doesn’t respond well to my… need for structure.” Professor grimaced. “You should have read my end-of-course evaluations. Intimidates students. We don’t feel free to express ourselves. What a bunch of crap. Every one of my students was free to express him or herself, provided the opinions expressed weren’t stupid.”
“There’s the Professor we know and love,” Bones said from the back seat.