Trey

While Mandy and Ray sort through some of her mother’s things, Anthony and I keep ourselves entertained by tracking Tommy. A few minutes past eight, he lands at the Belize City airport and unknowingly has a momentary face-to-face encounter with Romeo. In the ensuing minutes, he transfers to a helicopter and heads out into the Atlantic. Later in the evening, his jet leaves as well, presumably headed back to the states. I’m glad Mandy was able to place several tracking devices because at least one of them is working perfectly.

“It’s time for a little shuteye,” Anthony announces just after eleven. “I want to be in the air back to New York by six am.”

“Sounds good, boss,” I reply in jest. “Hopefully the couch is comfortable enough for you.”

“After all the nights I’ve spent in ditches and trenches, I’ll never be afraid of a couch,” he scoffs. “I’m more concerned about strange noises coming from next door,” he teases, nodding toward Mandy’s bedroom.

“No worries, we’re good,” I reply with a smirk, disappearing into her room without giving him a chance for further comment.

I slip into bed with Mandy and snuggle up behind her. “Good night, baby. One more day and life goes back to normal,” I whisper, but she is already sound asleep.

* * *

8:00am The Following Morning

After touching down at LaGuardia Airport and hooking up with Crusher and Bolt, we all board the Gulfstream and set our course for Roatan. Anthony called in another Alpha team member to stay at Trump Tower for the night. He’s still not comfortable with the idea that we are completely in the clear.

No one has had much sleep lately, so it is an extremely quiet flight. Mandy and I both recline and close our eyes before we even leave the ground. The two of us trying to sleep in her old full-sized bed was nothing short of futile. About three in the morning I made the decision to build a nice cabin out on Maggie’s Acres. I think both Mandy and I will enjoy visiting a few times per year, but neither Peggy’s B&B or Mandy’s old bedroom are going to make the grade.

“He’s still at the same location, so I’m assuming this is where he is settling in,” Anthony tells me, waking me to show me his position on the GPS tracker. “It’s actually a small private island, a few miles off the coast of Roatan. It only has a few buildings, but there is a quarter mile long grass landing strip on it.”

“I’ve got an SUV lined up for us in Roatan, but maybe I should see if we can get a helicopter or small plane instead. My plan will work out even better if he’s on an uninhabited island.” I chuckle. “That would be brutal after a while, regardless of how nice the views are from there.”

“I agree,” Anthony says, standing back up. “I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes what is happening. Forever is a mighty long time.”

“Are you two still gloating about your brilliant plan?” Mandy asks, opening her eyes and stretching uncomfortably.

“Yeah, we’re pretty proud of it,” I admit. “You might want to wake up the other guys,” I tell Anthony. “We’ll be on the ground in about fifteen minutes.” I stuff my belongings back into my travel bag and begin looking forward to one last confrontation with Tommy.

Mandy

I feel a flutter of excitement inside of me and I’m not sure if it’s the result of seeing light at the end of the tunnel or the fact that Tommy is about to get exactly what he deserves. It’s probably a little of both.

“There is a small plane available if we want to go that route,” Trey tells Anthony after we land on Roatan and taxi up to the hangar. “Or we can take an SUV to the other side of the island and charter this sweet boat.” He shows him a picture of it on his phone.

“Let’s go with the SUV and boat,” Anthony replies after thinking for a brief moment. “That way he won’t see or hear us coming and we can take him completely by surprise.”

“Good point,” Trey agrees, obviously liking the idea of surprising him.

“All right men, let’s roll out,” Anthony says with the voice of a drill sergeant after the ground crew moves the stairway into place. “Our ride awaits and we’re burning daylight.”

“I hope the SUV will have enough room for everything,” Trey mentions, since we both know their preference for large SUV’s.

“What? Not even a stretch Hummer?” Anthony shakes his head with a look of disgust.

“That’s what I wanted, but the biggest one on the island was a Mitsubishi Nativa,” Trey replies with a laugh.

“There probably isn’t much demand since there are only a couple gas stations and gas is about five dollars per gallon,” Bolt chimes in.

With military precision each man grabs his gear, exits the plane and stacks it into the back of the SUV. Within a couple of minutes we are on our way to the other side of the island.

“So this is it, huh?” Trey asks Anthony, hoisting a shiny black box with silver clasps onto his lap.

“That’s it, over fifteen grand of hardware in that little box.” Anthony shoots him a smirk.

“Worth every penny.” Trey nods his head and pats the lid.

Everyone grows silent once again as we drive through endless groves of trees and past small fishing villages where little colorful houses stand on stilts with large wooden shutters to protect them from the tropical storms and hurricanes. After driving through several more clusters of trees we finally come to some semblance of a small city, with a concrete building that seems to serve as a market, a smaller building with a Coca Cola sign and an outside display rack loaded with five gallon bottles of water.

On the outskirts of town there are at least a dozen fishing boats resting in the harbor. The obvious moneymakers, the boats are prettier and better kept than any of the buildings we have seen thus far. The last glimpse of the water reveals a large, rusting freighter of some type that had obviously run aground years ago and was destined to spend the rest of it’s days wasting away in it’s salt water grave. It seems strange to me that no one even bothered to give it a proper burial.

“So what do you think?” Trey asks, taking a break from looking out at the landscape rolling past the window.

“It looks interesting,” I reply. “Hey, there is actually a resort.” I point to a series of modern looking buildings situated around a huge swimming pool.

“Many resorts on the other side of island,” the driver tells us in broken English. “This side, villagers.”

“It seems that Roatan is a popular place for divers to come and vacation,” Trey says, scrolling through pictures on his phone.

“Yeah, I have friends who come down here every winter,” Crusher tells us, finally breaking his silence.

“Good thing you don’t dive,” Bolt teases him. “You’d scare away all the fish.”

Crusher turns back toward the window as we begin to wind gently back and forth through the heavy jungle, away from the shoreline.

“Our boat is waiting for us at Calabash Bight,” Trey tells the driver.

“Calabash, yes,” he replies, keeping his eyes on the winding road.

“What is a bight?” I ask, never having heard the term.

“It’s a curve in the coastline,” Bolt replies. “It’s one that’s not deep enough to be called a bay.”

“Where did you learn that? Wikipedia or something?” Crusher sneers.

“No, I just have a little brains to go along with my brawn,” Bolt quips.

The SUV slows and the ocean once again comes into view. “Is that the boat?” Anthony asks, as we pull up to a beautiful, blue and white boat.

“Yeah, it’s an Azimut or something like that,” Trey says, glancing down at his phone again. “I thought I might as well get the bigger one.”

“I think the five of us should fit,” Bolt says with a laugh. “Crusher might have to sit on the bow though.” His laugh is cut short as Crusher delivers a punch in the arm.

The three of them exit the SUV and once again methodically retrieve their gear. My pulse quickens at the thought of being involved in a mission with these highly skilled men. Anthony beckons Trey to lead the way and we all head down to the beautiful boat.

Trey

The boat looks even more spectacular in person, than it did online. It’s an eighty-foot cruiser that was designed for the open water, but it’s complete with a smaller excursion boat that we will use. Even though it is only going to be a five-minute drive right now, I have more elaborate plans for it later on.

Once everyone is onboard, I go inside to talk to the captain letting him know exactly where we want to land. Anthony is convinced that we should land on the northwest tip of the island and proceed from there. The buildings, as well as the gorgeous sugar sand beaches are about a quarter mile south, so that should ensure that Tommy doesn’t spot us prematurely. The captain confirms that he will anchor offshore and use the excursion boat to take us in.

Upon returning to the main deck, I can hear Mandy quizzing the guys as they ready their guns and equipment. “How far can you shoot with that?” she asks Bolt as he assembles his sniper rifle.

“Using a spotter, about three or four times the entire length of the island that we are going to,” Anthony answers on his behalf. “Today we’ll set up only a couple hundred meters out though with the intent of providing defensive cover. Hopefully we won’t need to fire a shot.”

“You won’t,” Crusher replies, sliding a clip into his 9mm pistol and slapping it into it’s holster.

“We aren’t here to take him out,” Anthony huffs, giving him the evil eye. Crusher simply grumbles, grabbing the shiny black box from it’s resting place.

“He’s on the beach, less than a klick southeast of the main building. There’s a small grove of trees just to the northwest of them, so that’s where you and I will set up,” Anthony instructs Bolt.

As I watch them get ready, I still can’t believe that Tommy thought he could simply flee the country and not suffer any consequences for all that he has done. Did he honestly think he could get away with stealing over four hundred million dollars? He is so delusional.

The boat slows down and comes to rest about a hundred meters out and the captain sets anchor. The small island that Tommy has chosen is only about a half-mile off the coast of Roatan. Bolt, Anthony and Crusher each grab their gear and we transfer to the smaller boat to go ashore. The captain maneuvers up to an old wooden dock that will serve as our entry point to the island.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face.” I smile at the thought of him being greeted by Crusher. He is looking extra intimidating today in his t-shirt as he is literally bursting out of it.

As soon as the captain gives the all clear, three sets of boots hit the old dock, moving swiftly onto the island. Mandy and I follow behind in silence as they quickly survey the terrain looking for the best place to hide the detonator. Crusher stops at a large boulder that looks it would weigh several hundred pounds. “The three of us will lift and you shove it into the ground,” he instructs me.

I pull the spike shaped detonator from the case and as all three men combine their strength to lift the edge of the rock. I quickly jam it into the sandy soil. “That’s good,” Crusher, grunts as they slowly lower the rock back down, pushing it the rest of the way into the ground.

With the detonator securely hidden, we continue our advance toward the beach where it appears that Tommy is located. “Over there,” Anthony points to a small grouping of shrubs, showing Bolt where he wants him to set up. “I’ll take the crest over here,” he says, pulling out the spiked feet of his sniper rifle before nestling it firmly on the sandy surface. “The sun is to our backs, so this is perfect.” He looks over at Bolt, waiting for the signal that he is situated. Seconds later, Bolt gives him the thumbs up.

“It’s show time,” Anthony declares in a hushed voice while scanning the beach with the scope of his rifle. “There appears to be two men and a woman about one hundred meters out,” he tells us. “The one on the right is definitely Tommy, but I only have a rear view of the others. Proceed with caution. Crusher, you take the lead. Mandy, you stay with me.”

Mandy lets out a sigh, so Anthony removes the binoculars from around his neck and hands them to her. “I guess I’ll watch from here,” she says in a tone of resignation.

I follow Crusher past the trees and over the crest. I can see three beach chairs and two large umbrellas situated about a hundred meters in front of us. “I’m sure he’s got protection,” Crusher says, handing me the black box and pulling a second 9mm pistol from its holster.

We continue to walk undetected and I can feel my heart pounding as the anticipation continues to build with each step. Crusher holds out a hand and slows his pace, walking as softly as possible once we reach the halfway point. I begin to regret that I haven’t been working out as we trudge through the deep sand toward our targets. If I had to run in this shit, I would be screwed. Of course, two expert military snipers are covering us, so there isn’t much to worry about.

Crusher looks back at me, as if he can sense that shit is about to get real. A split second later, a man springs from the chair on the left rolling out onto the sand pointing a pistol in our direction. “Hit the deck!” Crusher yells, both of us diving face first into the sand.

Three shots fire and then all is silent. I raise my head just enough to see what has transpired and Crusher rolls on his side letting out a groan. “Damn, that fucker was fast!” he says looking down at his bleeding forearm. With one swipe he rips off his t-shirt, wraps it around his arm and ties it in a knot, using his teeth to pull it tight.

“There are two snipers on you, Tommy, so don’t even think about it!” I yell as I see him scurrying toward the fallen man. I grab one of Crusher’s guns as we both scramble back to our feet and begin walking toward him. “We‘re not here to kill you!”

“If you pick up that gun, its suicide,” Crusher yells as Tommy reaches for the pistol.

“Don’t Tommy! Please don’t!” a woman screams, pleading with him.

“We don’t want to kill you,” I reiterate. “I just want to talk to you.” We continue walking slowly toward him and it’s obvious that he is torn as to whether or not he should pick up the gun. He looks over at the woman and relents, holding up his hands and lowering his head.

“You got the ankle cuffs?” Crusher asks, looking over at me. I completely forgot about them after the shots were fired. In the moment, I was only focused on self-preservation. “I can handle him with one arm,” Crusher assures me, so I turn back to retrieve the black box.