Trev
"Is the duct tape really necessary," I asked.
"You escaped from a Turkish prison with a sock and a toothbrush," the Texan Detective said.
"I also had cheesecake," now that was a story. But for another time...
The EMT continued to to duct tape my arms to the sides of the gurney. My injured leg remained free. I was lucky. I escaped with only three pieces of shrapnel in my leg, and those weren't very deep. But most of my thigh and a bit of my calf had sustained second degree burns. It hurt like a bitch, but I could walk.
I glanced at the girl, Natalia Boa Something. She had escaped with a bruise on her arm from the fall. After a few shrink sessions, vacation, and self defense courses, she'd be as good as new. Of course, that's all after a few days of solid sleep, by the look at her. I was running on caffeine tablets myself.
I felt Caine's shadow fall on me, "I delivered."
"Mr Pierce, I need to ask you a few questions," he said, his voice unreadable.
"Fire away," poor choice of words.
"Mr Pierce, in your actions since your arrival in Miami, have you had any help from another party?"
I flicked my eyes to him. His expression was unreadable. I wondered if he was ever a Gunny, "No."
"Do you have or have had associates in Miami provide you with assistance, financial, physical, or otherwise?"
Again, he played it close to the vest. I similarly answered, "No."
Caine tilted his head to one side, and looked at me like I was a puzzle he was having trouble solving. It was a little disconcerting, "Are you responsible for the kidnapping of a Mr Juan Córtez, firing on a police vehicle in the Port of Miami, the firefight in Rocklee Park, the police chase at 4:00 PM, and the incident here at approximately 8:32 PM?"
I saw how tired he looked. Almost as tired as I felt, "Yes."
"And you did not have assistance in any of these actions?"
"I was alone," I lied.
He nodded and said, "I shall take your statement at the station."
"You going to take The Octavian?" I asked.
"Of course," he said.
"I know the CEO," I said, "With one phone call, I can end this tonight."
"What's the catch?"
"I go with you."
"Absolutely not," Horatio said.
"I can't exactly run away," I said, gesturing to my leg, "I make one call, and this all ends by sunup."
The lieutenant seemed to chew this. He glanced at my legs. And back to my eyes. I could hear the gears turning in his head. I was beginning to doubt when he pulled out his pocet knife, cut the duct tape binding my right arm, and handed me his phone.
I called up my Crooked Jew.
And no, that's not racist. He described himself that way.
Jon was in definite pain. His face was hard set as he limped down the catwalk,leg irons clinking. Ryan and Delko in front and behind. Cobry brought up the rear, one hand on his sidearm and both eyes on Jon. Horatio vaguely admired that about him.
Jon called his contact, who called the captain of the Octavian, who promptly let them in without needing a warrant. The captain, a Canadian with a round belly and big mouth said, "Oh, well, wasn't too much trouble to tell ya da truth. The container was stacked on the outside, so we don't have trouble with the crane and such to bring it out. I tell ya, have to have friends in high places for them to rocket me a request like that."
"Sorry to wake you," Jon said through clenched teeth.
"No worries, I was already awake," the captain said politely, "Yep, filling out paperwork for a return through Panama. Here we are."
He gestured at the red shipping container and handed a pair of bolt cutters to Horatio, "I gotta ask though," the captain said, "Is this legal?"
"TRAVCO owns the ship and the container," Jon said, "But the law is very clear: unless it is inherently dangerous, like drugs or bomb, or is evidence in a crime, we -you guys," he corrected after Delko's and Ryan's glares, "cannot legally take possession of it, because it does not belong to TRAVCO. I'm saying that I had a reliable source tell me that whatever is in there is evidence so..."
Horatio cut the padlock and pulled open the container. The captain blanched and ran, cursing very un-Canadian like.
Cobry growled, "You had to say Bomb!"
The container was full of blue barrels with blocks of C4 on top. Horatio knew this was the real deal. Lying in the center was a computer hard drive on a pressure plate. Horatio looked up. A small red light was blinking fast.
"Armed," Horatio said.
"This is no fake," Cobry said, sniffing the air, "I smell the fuel."
"Timer," Jon jerked his head at a little black box next to the hard drive.
Horatio entered and looked at the first barrel. The C4 was spiderwebbed with cords, "Cobry, how long would it take you to disarm?"
"This barrel?" he said, "A week, minimum."
"We don't have seven minutes," Jon said. He grabbed the gauze on his leg and yanked it free. He wound the bloody cloth into a ball. He hobbled to the center of the container and knelt down, "On my mark, take hard drive."
"Are you nuts?" Ryan asked, motioning to bring him back.
Horatio stopped him, "What are you doing?"
"He's going to use the iron in his blood to short circuit the plate," Cobry guessed.
"Knife," he held out his hand. When the group hesitated, "We're running out of time!" Horatio tossed him his pocket knife and walked to the center of the container. Delko put his hand on his shoulder. Horatio looked at him. Eric nodded.
Jon quickly stripped some of the PVC coating of the wire, baring the copper. He held the bloody bandage near it, "Wait," Horatio said, "How long will this give us?"
"Thirty seconds at most," he said, "These bombs are wired in modified Shrieber-style. I can get you more time."
"How long?"
"Three, four minutes tops," he said, "Get off the ship, it's the only way you'll be safe."
"What about you?" Cobry asked, "I can do. And I'm faster than you, with that leg."
Jon shook his head, "And I die, forty years later in my cell, regretting letting more good men die in my place? No. Let me die with dignity."
Cobry nodded, and knelt by him. He unlocked the cuffs and irons. He patted him on the shoulder. He took out his communicator, looped it around Jon's ear, and said, "Now well hear any last words."
Jon looked at the group. He took a shaky breath, and released. He took another, this one more smooth. He said calmly, "Mark!"
Horatio snatched the hard drive. Jon wrapped the wire around the bandage. Eric yanked Horatio away.
And they ran.
All the stresses of the past week showed themselves. Horatio's lungs burned. His legs screamed. Still he kept on running. He ran up the stairwell to the deck and raced across. He could hear Ryan behind him, and could see Cobry and Eric in front of him.
He felt his age become apparent. Incredibly, the only thought in his mind was, I'm too old for this.
He made it too the stairs leading to the docks when he heard Jon say, "I'm done. Following you now!"
Horatio made it to the docks and sprinted as far away from that blasted ship as he could.
"Almost there," he heard Jon say, "Almo-"
BOOM!
Tampico, Mexico
The cantina was one of those forgotten little niches that tourist found but could never find again. The locals seemed to tolerate the odd gringo now and then, but were content that this bar was theirs. The only sound came from hushed whispers about rigged cock fights and the small, 90s era TV with spotty signal, playing the news.
"En noticias recientes, las autoridades estadounidenses han arrestado a varios altos personajes públicos varios, en un caso de conspiración criminal reciente. Algunas fuentes de alto rango dicen que está relacionado con la caza del hombre reciente de Michael Pierce terrorismo en Miami. Pierce se alegue que han muerto en una explosión en un buque de carga en el Puerto de Miami.
No se han encontrado los cuerpos."
A pretty brunnette, her skin tanned gold from exposer to the sun, smiled at a yound lady that could be her daughter, who silently smiled back. She drained the rest of her cervesa, put on her sun hat, and walked out of the bar, the younger one following close behind.
And thus ends what I will admit is not one of my better works. But I am glad to have finished it before I left for bootcamp.
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