Gray Ghost (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 1) (19 page)

Dix turned. “Petersen, did you hear that? The legendary drug expert wants to meet you.”

Petersen grimaced. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Dix. I hope you’ll be on your best behavior.”

Dix couldn’t reply because Jim Calhoun stood before him with his hand outstretched.

“
How the hell are you, Bill?” He looked at Petersen.

“
And you must be Detective Petersen.”

Dix smiled and shook the proffered hand. “Jim, it’s been a long time. I’m doing great. Better now that you’re here.”

Petersen shook hands with Calhoun, then with Commissioner Knowles. He was surprised. Dix had never mentioned anything about knowing Jim Calhoun.

Calhoun looked at the storage unit. “Is this where the stuff is located? What do we know about it?”

Petersen nodded. “It’s over near the speedboat. The boat doesn’t function anymore, thanks to a couple careless rounds from a sniper.”

Calhoun looked puzzled. “A sniper?”

Dix nodded. “Yeah. A Special Ops sniper named M. A. Thomas.” He pointed at Roger. “Roger killed him when the guy had his weapon trained on Petersen and me. We weren’t aware of it at the time. If it hadn’t been for Roger, we’d probably be dead.”

Dix had intentionally left out the part about the interrogation. Calhoun frowned. “So now we have over a thousand kilos of cocaine stored here. You assume this Caller guy will show up looking for it because it’s worth at least a hundred million, as I understand it. Anyone know why they call him that?”

Roger shook his head. “Not really. But his only contact seems to be by phone.”

Calhoun looked at Dix. “I understand the cargo has been safeguarded by surveillance and audio feeds. I don’t see anything visible, which is good. Is there an APS involved?”

The commissioner, Roger, and Petersen looked confused, so Dix said, “He’s talking about an alternate power supply.” Roger motioned the men to follow him. “I’ll point out the system upgrades, straight from the DEA gurus.”

Calhoun interrupted. “Just tell me where everything is without pointing it out. If this guy is as advanced as you guys think, he could be watching right now. I’d feel pretty stupid if we made it easy for him. He doesn’t need any help from us.”

Roger told Calhoun and the commissioner where everything was located and mentioned the backup power supply.

Calhoun turned to the group. “What’s the game plan?” Dix answered, “We figure he’s coming after dark, possibly by helicopter. He’ll probably only take the cocaine. A chopper could land somewhere around the yard, and he will probably attempt to take out the guards, grab the dope and be gone within minutes. The stuff has to be in his possession to convict him of anything but audio and video feeds will gather information to identify this Caller guy. Our navy has several jets ready to scramble to force a plane or helicopter down. If he leaves by boat, you’ll handle that.”

Calhoun nodded his agreement. “Have you guys seen the schematics for the storage unit and the city streets around it?”

One of the local officers produced them.

Calhoun glanced at the drawings and rubbed his belly. “I’m hungry. Is there someplace we could eat and discuss this some more? I’m buying.”

The commissioner suggested a local restaurant, and they all headed there.

As the cars passed the airport, Dix, Roger, and Petersen talked about fly fishing. Petersen mentioned the huge bonefish he let get away. Roger stopped laughing and pointed out the window.

Dix turned to see what he had motioned to. “What’s up Roger?”

“
Is there a small red horse on the tail of that private jet?”

Petersen’s eyes widened. “I’ll be damned. That’s the horse head we saw on the cocaine.” He turned to Roger. “When did that thing get here, and whose is it?”

Dix noticed a U.S. flag next to the red horse head. On the side of the plane were the words, “United States Coast Guard—U.S. Department of Homeland Security. “Let me guess. Calhoun arrived in that jet.”

Roger called Commissioner Knowles. When he hung up, he turned to the detectives. “The commissioner confirmed Mr. Calhoun arrived on it, just him and a pilot. Apparently no one has seen the pilot since it landed.”

Dix frowned. “We’ll certainly have something to talk about at lunch, won’t we?”

Petersen looked at his partner. “Just how do you intend to question a living legend about arriving in an expensive plane with the same horse head on it as on the cocaine?”

Dix got a broad smile. “Watch and learn, my friend.

Watch and learn.”

* * * *

Wilfred and Bubba cleaned their weapons and got their gear ready. Wilfred asked, “You think the Caller will show up?”

Bubba nodded. “Yeah.”

“
Do you think Dix and Petersen will catch him?” “I think so. They seem pretty sharp. Why?”

Wilfred looked at his brother. “The asshole’s been up to no good for so long, it seems a little farfetched he’d get caught so easily. We’ve done as much as we can to identify the guy. I say we just post ourselves near the storage unit and wait until someone tries to steal the cocaine.”

Bubba agreed.

Wilfred said, “I know we told Dix we’d stay out of the way, but I want to take the guy out myself. We know just as much as they do, and we should be in on the action. I know we’re not cops, but we shouldn’t have to sit on the sidelines.”

Bubba looked up and smiled. “I’m with you.”

“
So what do we do?”

“
Sit and wait.” Bubba chambered a round in his sidearm.

Wilfred thought out loud. “They believe the Caller’s coming in a day or two. I think he’s been in on the investigation since it started, and I bet he’ll try to take the stuff tonight.”

“
Why’s dat?”

Wilfred continued. “The longer he waits, the more resources will be deployed against him. Striking quickly would make it easier to grab the load and get out.”

Bubba rubbed his chin. “You think he’ll come by plane, car, or helicopter? What?”

“
We can probably rule out planes and helicopters. They’re too big and can easily be tracked. The guy’ll show up with some serious heat, storm the storage unit with a large van or SUV, load up, and drive away. The only questions left are where would he go after that, and how he would get his haul off the island undetected?”

Bubba shrugged.

They loaded their gear into their rundown hatchback. Books, magazines, a small handheld police scanner, and whatever else they could think of might help pass the time. Then they headed to the storage unit.

As they drove past the airport to check out the jet the Coast Guard honcho was supposed to have arrived in, they saw the plane and the horse head and decided to stick around. They watched through binoculars as a white guy unloaded what appeared to be weapons into the back of a Yukon Denali. They found it odd because a second Yukon Denali was parked near the first one, but the man wasn’t doing anything with it. They had never seen the man, the jet, or the SUV before.

After each movement, the guy looked around. Wilfred thought he saw small round objects across the man’s chest.

He turned to Bubba. “Look through these binoculars.

You think those are grenades on his chest?”

Bubba took the binoculars, stared, and sighed. “Maybe.”

They watched as the man unloaded a shotgun with a bright, orange barrel.

Bubba passed the binoculars back to Wilfred. “You see da shotgun with an orange barrel? What does dat mean?”

“
Less-than-lethal. It shoots bean bag rounds.”

As the man leaned over, his shirt lifted slightly, exposing a sidearm on his hip. Wilfred spotted a tattoo on the guy’s upper arm when he took off his coat. He wasn’t sure but thought it looked a lot like a Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta (Airborne) insignia. It was the same tattoo Wilfred’s cousin had on his arm.

Wilfred looked through his binoculars and focused on the red horse head on the rear of the plane. He passed the binoculars to Bubba and pointed. His brother looked and then gave him a thumbs-up. It was definitely the same horse head on the cocaine Wilfred had located.

“
We should stick with this guy.” Bubba nodded.

They ducked low in the car and kept watch. About two hours later, another plane landed, and it looked very similar to the one they’d been watching. It too had a red horse emblem.
This operation continues getting very interesting
, thought Wilfred.

CHAPTER FORTY

Jorge Blanco sped to Goldfinger’s, a local Miami strip club, where his partners hung out. None of his men, who were supposedly on standby, had answered calls. As he pulled into the parking lot, he located Paul Kemp’s Chevy Suburban.
Well, at least I know they’re here.

He jumped from the cab of his truck and strolled to the entrance. A very large black man stood in front of the door with his arms folded. He scowled.

Blanco walked closer. “Hello. How are you? I need to find a few friends.”

The bouncer replied, “Can’t let you in. It’s a VIP club tonight, and I don’t know you, so you ain’t getting in.”

“
Maybe you know my friends.” He pointed over to the Suburban. “They came in that.”

“
I know ’em, but I ain’t seen you. They busy right now. When they done, I’ll check with ’em. Otherwise, you ain’t gettin’ in tonight, partner.”

What a bunch of horseshit
. “Listen, pal, what’s it going to take to get me inside?”

The guy looked him up and down, then shrugged. “A couple hundred.”

Blanco stepped within two feet of the guy and pretended to get his wallet out. While the guy was distracted, Blanco placed him firmly in a choke hold. The bouncer tried to release himself by smashing Blanco against the outside of the building, but Blanco held on, and the bouncer fell to the ground. The big man was asleep within seconds. Without further interruption, Blanco let himself in.

Scanning the tables and lap-dance couches he didn’t see his team.
Damn. What are those idiots doing now?

He approached the bartender and asked her if she’d seen four white guys wearing cargo pants and polo shirts come in together. She said she had and they were in the back room. Blanco thanked her and started to walk toward the rear of the club. He hoped whatever the men were doing wasn’t completely illegal. If they were late for their mission, his ass would be on the line.

The door to the back room was locked and felt pretty solid. After he had knocked loudly a couple of times, Blanco decided to force entry.

Efforts to kick and shoulder the door were unsuccessful. Without hesitation, he pulled out his .45 caliber Sig Sauer and put a few rounds through the lock. People ran for cover and screamed, but Blanco remained calm. The door was shattered and Blanco stepped inside. What he saw made him wish he had never become involved with the operation or the DOG Unit.

His men were engaged in various sexual activities, interrupted only by the gunfire. Lines of cocaine and piles of cash lay on the table, and empty bottles of whiskey littered the floor.

Blanco shook his head. “What in the hell are you shitheads doing? Get your goddamn clothes on, put your fucking weapons away, and get the hell out of here.”

They did as they were told. Blanco turned to the women. “All right, ladies, your orgy got a little out of hand. How much cash will it take to make this go away?”

None of them responded.

“
Listen, I don’t have time to stick around. What’s it going to take to make you forget these guys were ever here?”

One of the strippers said, “Give us ten thousand in cash, and it never happened.”

Blanco chuckled. “How much did they already pay you?” “About four thousand.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of cash. He counted out sixty one-hundred dollar bills and put the money on the table.

He looked at the women. “If I hear one thing about tonight’s party, I’ll kill everyone in here and burn the place to the ground. No one will find your bodies, and they won’t catch me.”

Blanco went outside and saw the bouncer talking to his team near Kemp’s vehicle.

The bouncer spotted Blanco and pointed. “You motherfucker. I’m gonna kill you.”

He reached for his .38 special at his waist, but the gun was gone.

Blanco pulled the guy’s firearm from his own waistband. “Looking for this?” He disabled the weapon and threw it across the parking lot. “Next time, I’ll kill you.”

He ordered the team into their vehicle, and they sped away. Blanco calculated they could still deploy to the Bahamas on schedule. Blanco was about to give the team the
what for
speech when his cell phone rang.

Tony Charles said, “There’s been a change of plans. The unit will continue to Andros Island. However, you need to meet Jim Calhoun to assist him with an operation involving a hundred million dollar load of cocaine he’s trying to protect from corrupt local cops. Calhoun is already on the island. I’m sending you all the intel we have on the situation. Calhoun will give you instructions when your boots are on the ground.”