“Close it!” Mike shouted, motioning him to close the door.
“Dragon,” Mike said. “Head for Largo.”
“You’re kidding!” Admiral Ryan snapped.
“Sir, I’m sorry,” the Coast Guard rep to the JTF said, shrugging. “We don’t have all that many fast boats. We had two experimental ones, faster than just about anything out there, but we never got funding for more, or parts, and had to eventually scrap the one we had left after one crashed in a chase. DEA had some but they mostly wrecked them. The ones they’ve got left are up in the Palm Beach area or down by Key West. The ones in the Palm Beach area, if we can get them scrambled, will take a couple of hours to get there. The Marine Patrol has some and all their boats are as fast as a Scarab. I suggest we call them.”
“Okay,” the admiral said, sighing. “I need the FDLE rep, right now. But… I’m going to let someone else take point. Marine Patrol can help but they’re to remain distant from the engagement. I have another call to make.”
“Kildar,” Creata said over the intercom. “Admiral Ryan.”
Mike keyed his throat mike as Creata transferred the call.
“Go, Ryan.”
“You were right,” the admiral said sourly. “There aren’t any fast boats, not Cigarettes or equivalent, in the area.”
“There’s a reason I’m here, sir,” Mike said. “Besides the fact that I’m trusted by higher and get the job done, I know the waters and the players. I was pretty sure that was the case. I may need some discreet tanking after the job is done.”
“The base at Largo has avgas,” the admiral said. “That good enough?”
“As long as we can get this done by dawn,” Mike said, glancing at the sky. “Hell, I’ve got an alternative, even if we can’t. We’ll get it done, sir.”
“Roger,” Ryan said. “Marine Patrol is on standby to intercept if necessary.”
“Hopefully not,” Mike said as Creata gestured at him. “I’ll get back with you in a bit, sir.” He changed back to local. “What?”
“We have two winners,” Creata said, pointing to her screen. “Two boats are approaching two different drop points. They’re in about two hundred feet of water, by the way.”
“Deep dive,” Mike said, shrugging. “But you can do it on trimix. What’s our time to intercept?”
“About an hour and a half,” Creata said. “For the boats. Less for the helo, of course.”
“No, we’re going to need the boats,” Mike said. “Keep an eye on those contacts.”
“There,” the technician said. “There are the two boats. They’re heading for the coordinates.”
“They won’t stop,” the admiral said, looking over his shoulder. “See if they slow down, but I bet they don’t stop.”
“That one… it’s circling. Circling. Now it’s leaving.”
“Bet it heads to another drop point,” the admiral said.
“Direct vector,” the technician said, nodding.
“Tag that contact and zoom out,” the admiral said. “Look over towards the Bahamas cut and look for some fast boats and maybe a helo.”
“One helo approaching Bimini,” the technician said. “Coast Guard 315. There…” he added, highlighting a group. “Four fast boats and a helo following headed west out of the cut. Looks like a fourth that might have been with the group heading north to Bimini.” He paused, puzzled, and pulled up another control. “The helo does not have a transponder.”
“Is there a way for me to cut out all the take on this to anyone but us?” the admiral asked.
“The control is the Joint Drug Task Force command, sir,” the technician said uneasily. “But, yes, it can be done. But, sir, there are all sorts of ops that depend on this system. There are probably three or four drug ops going down right now using this take.”
“I need everything related to these tracks filtered out,” the admiral said. “The security on this op is at a very high level.”
“Yes, sir,” the tech said. “I know how that can be done, technically, but I’d need clearance codes from JDTF.”
“I’ll get them. And I might have to cut you out, as well. If not, you’re going to go into a very restricted compartment.”
“Okay,” Mike said over the team circuit. “These guys probably have radar. So we’re going to be detected on the way in. That means they’re going to run. A Scarab has a top speed around fifty knots. Top speed for our boats is closer to a hundred. The helo is faster. When we get in detection range, if they run, two of the boats will take off after one contact, the other two after the other. Lightning and the Drone to the south contact, Cig 36 and the Nordic to the north. The helo will vector to the south contact, wait until the boats are close, then take down the contact. Boats will close, secure gear and determine if there is WMD already aboard. If so, NO SHOOTING. You’re not in MOPP gear. If there is any evidence that the WMD is active, do NOT board. The helo will then vector to the other chase. If the boats get inshore, continue to pursue. Do NOT let this stuff get onto land. If they get inshore, there may be Florida Law Enforcement in the area. You will not interact with Florida Law Enforcement. You will not speak to them and you will carry out your mission even if they attempt to interfere. Secure the personnel, transfer them to the helo and leave any WMD you find. FDLE and the JTF can clean that up.”
“DTF is locked out for take,” the technician said, punching in the last code. “For these tracks and these tracks only.”
“Okay,” the admiral said. “I have the board,” he said, gesturing for the technician to stand up. “I’ll call you back when you can have your board back.”
“Sir, with all due respect,” the technician said. “I’m not going to talk. I have a very high clearance. And I can do this job — sorry, sir — better than you can. I would, with respect, recommend that you let me stay.”
The admiral considered that, then shrugged.
“Okay, lady, but if you so much as breathe a word of what is about to happen, you can plan on spending the rest of your life behind bars.”
“Yes, sir,” the tech said. “Clear, sir. But you might want to get a chair. This isn’t going to go fast.”
They were closing, but not fast. The boats had gone to the second drop point, circled around again, then headed back to the first.
“They’re carrying two divers,” Mike said. “They spot the contact, toss over a buoy and drop the diver. The diver goes down, finds the barrel, secures it and raises it with a float bag. Probably it has some sort of transponder so they can find him again since he’s gonna float. They go back, pick up the first one then go pick up the second.”
“Yes, sir,” Creata said. “But they appear to have picked up one, now,” she said, pointing to the screen. The boat had stopped, not by the first drop point but close. Now it was heading north again.
“Are there other boats in the area?” Mike asked.
Creata hit a control and brought up All Tracks.
“There’s a boat northwest of the second drop point,” she said, pointing. “It’s not moving. Could it be a support boat?”
“Probably some guys out night fishing,” Mike said. “If they see us intercept they’ll probably assume it’s FDLE or Coast Guard after drug dealers. When’s sunrise?”
“One hour,” Creata said.
“We are about to become somewhat unblack,” Mike replied, frowning.
“AER KELDAR!” Edvin shouted, grinning. The Lightning 42 was flying across the waves of the Florida Straits, leaping out of the water then slamming down. Edvin had a solid grip on the grab handles, but he was loving every second of the trip. “What is that song that the Kildar plays? About coming from the land of the ice and snow?”