Caribbean's Keeper (31 page)

Twenty minutes later, he could see the wake of the small boat coming towards him at less than a mile. Cole went to work. He stabbed the fuel barrels near the bottom and fuel started to spill out. The stoner, unbeknownst to Cole, had been snorting coke from one of the bales for some time and was now a shit hot mess sitting on the deck. Cole motioned for him to jump overboard, but the guy didn’t process it.

“Jump, you dumbass. JUMP!” Cole motioned again and the stoner started to stand up.

Cole soaked a few of the rags in gas then set them down next to the battery. With two of the rags that were still dry, he held the wire and touched it against the connectors. It sparked a bit then went out. The boat rolled and the battery slid away from him.

“Fuck. Come on,” Cole said as he looked up to see the small boat closing in on him.

He pulled the battery back in close. The smell of gasoline came and went with the breeze and Cole knew he was sitting on a time bomb, but he was committed at this point. He touched the wires again and they sparked. With his other hand covered by a dry cloth, he picked up one of the gas-soaked rags and touched it to the wire. It erupted and nearly singed his entire face when it did. With the rag completely engulfed in flames, Cole dropped it on the deck, grabbed a dry rag, and adjusted it better protect his hand.

Standing up on the bow, Cole threw the burning rag aft and watched it catch a pool of gas by the console. Satisfied that the boat would explode any second, Cole jumped over the side. When he hit the water, he went completely under and took a few strokes away from the boat. He emerged and looked back to see flames rising up from the aft portion of the boat, but it still hadn’t spread forward to the drugs. Cole rolled and swam hard away from the boat and as he did, the fuel tanks exploded, sending a wave of heat against the back of his head. Thick smoke bellowed into the night sky and obscured the boat when he looked back.

Satisfied that he was far enough away, Cole treaded in place and watched it burn. Before long, the hull was gone and only bits and pieces still floated in the debris field with flames all around them. Cole wiped at his face and cupped saltwater with his hands, pouring it over his head to wash away any traces of the drugs. The evidence was gone and for that he was relieved. Still, he was now treading water in the middle of the Caribbean at night. The sound of burning and smoldering debris crackled like a wood fire as Cole spun around a few times, looking for the small boat.

When he finally saw it circling the debris, he yelled and waved. The boarding team spotted him and turned in his direction. As they approached, Cole waited patiently until it was nearly beside him. One of the boarding team members pointed a shotgun at Cole as he floated in the water.

Cole lifted both his hands out of the water. “You got me,” he said with a grin.

“Cole? Is that you?” It was Wheeler.

He reached down and offered a hand to Cole and pulled him up and over the side. “You have got to be fucking kidding me, Cole,” Wheeler said, partly pissed and in complete disbelief.

“Nice to see you, Wheeler.”

Cole wiped the water away from his face as he sat on the side of the small boat. One of the boarding team members kept his M9 pistol pointed at Cole.

“What the fuck are you doing down here?” asked Wheeler.

Cole smiled. “Fishing trip. I guess it went bad.”

Wheeler shook his head in disbelief. He radioed back to
Delaney,
“One onboard, we’re RTB.”

Cole spoke up, “No, there are two of us. There’s another guy.”

Wheeler looked at Cole. “It’s just you man. We didn’t see anyone else.”

“No, there’s another guy, he jumped before I did.”

“We’re taking you back first. Then we’ll look some more.”

As the small boat sped back to
Delaney
, Cole looked over his shoulder at the debris. There were only few pieces still burning, but almost nothing was left.
What had the stoner thought when I told him to jump?
Maybe the son of a bitch didn’t know how to swim, or maybe he was paralyzed by fear and the coke running through his veins
. Either way, if Wheeler hadn’t found him by now, he was probably gone. Once again, death was Cole’s companion and the gravity of it all began to sink in.

Cole wasn’t smiling anymore. He looked ahead and saw the dark hull of
Delaney
. It had been almost a year, but now he was going back on
Delaney
and this time he’d be in handcuffs.

Fucking Karma
, he thought. The MH-65 was shut down now on the flight deck and Cole could see a group on the fantail waiting for his arrival. He knew the drill.

When the small boat pulled up, Cole climbed the ladder and was quickly cuffed, then led up to the flightdeck. Wheeler was ahead of him and disappeared through the same hatch from which Cole had walked through when he left the ship the previous summer. The boarding team members led Cole to the starboard side of the hangar and took the handcuff from his left wrist off then attached it to a pipe. They set a blanket down and Cole took a seat on it, his back against the hangar.

The aircrew was doing a post-flight cleanup of their helicopter before they pushed it into the hangar and closed the hangar door behind them. Cole watched in silence as they cleaned up the last bits and pieces. One of the boarding team members sat on a chair a few feet from Cole, keeping an eye on him. The gunner from the MH-65 was stowing a few things inside the cabin and caught Cole looking at him.

Cole asked, “Was that you shooting?” The gunner nodded that it was. “Nice shot, man.”

The gunner stopped what he was doing and looked at Cole with a half a grin on his face. He asked, “Is it true what they said, that you were in the Coast Guard?”

Cole laughed and replied, “Yeah, I was. I was on this fucking boat.”

The gunner went back to storing his equipment and thought about it for a few seconds. “Ain’t that some shit,” he said, without looking back at Cole.

Cole nodded, “Yeah. Life’s a bitch sometimes.” He pressed the back of his head against the bulkhead. His brain was flooded with bad memories of his two years on
Delaney
.

When the gunner was through and the flight crew had put their helicopter to bed, he nodded at Cole before disappearing into the ship. Cole was left with his one guard watching over him and settled, trying to find a comfortable position. The dim red lights were the same as Cole had remembered them. He found them still incredibly depressing.

As he adjusted his legs, a deep sadness came over him. For the first time in hours, he thought of Isabella. She was in Martinique waiting for him. There was no way he’d be back in two days now. He felt it in his stomach when he thought of how much she would worry about him. He had no way to communicate with her. She didn’t know it yet, but Cole had managed to hurt her, just as he’d feared.

Cole was angry with himself and playing options in his head when the forward door swung open. Cole looked over to see Potts coming towards him, followed closely by Wheeler. As usual, Potts was agitated. Wheeler was trying to calm him down, but Potts was moving towards Cole like a freight train. As he came to within a foot of Cole, Potts stopped and Cole could see him breathing deeply and exhaling forcibly through his nostrils.

“You little piece of shit.” Potts didn’t know where to go with it. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Cole?”

Even with the red lights, Cole could see that Potts was turning red.

Cole wasn’t going to back down.
Fuck Potts,
he thought.
You tried to fuck me, well two can play that game.

“I was fishing. Something went wrong, but I truly appreciate the Coast Guard’s assistance. You guys are real heroes.” Cole winked at him.

Potts reared back with his right hand and punched Cole in the face. Ducking away in time to deflect the blow to the side of his face, it still shook Cole pretty good. He was dazed for a moment, and when he steadied himself, Wheeler and the boarding team member were pulling Potts away. They got him back towards the door and Potts threw his hands up to cast them off of him and disappeared back into the ship.

Wheeler came back over to Cole. “Fucking A, Cole. You all right?”

Cole nodded. It stung. Cole could feel his left eye swelling shut a bit.

Wheeler looked at Cole’s face. “I’ll get some ice for you.”

Cole shook his head. “Fuck it, Wheeler. I’m fine. Just keep him away from me—for his sake and mine.”

Wheeler nodded. “All right, Cole. Get some rest if you can. We’re flying you to Guantanamo Bay tomorrow.”

Wheeler turned and disappeared back into the ship. Cole knew that beyond that bulkhead were air conditioning and dry beds. Not 20 feet from where he sat was the same damn rack he’d slept in for nearly two years. He preferred to sleep in the hangar rather than see that stateroom again.

His head hurt. His ears were still ringing from the shots and the left side of his head was swelling. He was thirsty and hungry and the salt water had begun to dry against his skin, making him itch. On top of that, the non-skid under the blanket poked through and made it impossible to sit for any amount of time without discomfort. Even with all of that, he thought solely of Isabella and the sadness that ensued left him feeling a low Cole had never known before.

Chapter 15 – Deceived

COLE SLEPT ON and off through the night. His guard swapped out at some point during the evening, but other than that he saw no one and heard nothing over the damned familiar hum of the ship. With the hangar door closed and no air circulating through the space, it was uncomfortably humid under the red lights. His sweat only made the dried salt water worse when it ran into his eyes. The hardest part, though, was not knowing where he was or where he was going. As was to be expected, no one told him a thing.

After several hours of being awake, Cole was relieved when a few enlisted folks appeared in the hangar and opened the hangar door, revealing the morning sun and blue skies. Still handcuffed, sweating, and uncomfortable, the sight of some blue sky lifted Cole’s spirits. The ship rocked gently back and forth on a calm Caribbean morning as she steamed. With the sun rising off the stern, Cole figured they were making their way towards Guantanamo Bay. It was already warm, but as the salt air wafted through the hangar, Cole felt some breeze against his body for the first time in half a day.

Some of the crew looked at him, but most ignored their new prisoner as they went about their morning routine. Cole recognized a few faces, but none dared speak to him. Cole doubted the ones he knew even recognized him under his shaggy hair and a week’s worth of an unkempt beard. Allison appeared through the hatch and brought with her a banana and a glass of water. Cole was relieved and excited to see her, but didn’t know what to say.

“Hey, stranger.” It was all Cole could manage and he said it with genuine despair.

“Your eye looks pretty bad,” Allison said as she knelt down beside him, giving Cole the glass.

Cole drank it in two gulps and Allison passed him the banana. “Potts ordered us not to give you anything. He’s in a meeting right now in CIC, so you better hurry.” She took the glass from him as Cole mouthed the banana.

He felt a bit better. The left side of his face was tender, and he could feel the swelling around his eye. He passed the banana peel back to Allison.

Still kneeling beside Cole, she asked, “Is it true there was another guy with you?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what happened to him.” Cole looked away from Allison when he said it.

“We looked last night for a while, but never found anything. Now, they want you in Florida today, so we left a bit after midnight.”

Both of them were silent.

She asked, “Does it bother you?”

Cole thought for a moment. “I don’t even know where to start. The last year hasn’t been what I thought it would.”

Allison stood up and said, “I think you brought it on yourself, Cole. I worry about you like this. It’s not you.”

Cole looked up at her. “That’s the thing. I don’t know who I am anymore. Maybe I really am just a fuckup.”

She shook her head disapprovingly and walked away. It hurt him to see her upset and Cole knew he had no one to blame but himself. Having hit a low, Allison was his witness to see Cole at his worst. He pressed his head back against the pipe behind him and looked out at the water behind him. He could see the wake of
Delaney
trailing off to the east. He then remembered everything he hated about that ship.
Why did it have to be Delaney that caught me?
Cole shook his head and took a deep breath.

g

By the afternoon, the aircrew was pushing the helicopter out onto the flight deck. Cole watched over the next hour as they prepped and fueled the MH-65. When it was time, Wheeler came up to Cole, uncuffed him from the pipe, handcuffed him again with his hands in front, and brought him over to the cabin door. Cole climbed in and took a seat. Wheeler punched Cole in the shoulder, nodded slightly, and walked away. The same gunner from the night before was sitting next to him.

He leaned over to Cole. “If you try anything in flight, I’ll fuck you up worse than whoever did that to your eye last night.”

Cole laughed at the nonchalant way the gunner said it. He shook his head, reassuring the gunner, “Don’t worry bud. I’ve lost this fight already.”

The gunner grinned and nodded, then put his helmet on and the pilots started the engines. Before long they were airborne, and Cole was thankful to at least be off
Delaney
. The helicopter turned north and flew for almost an hour. In front of them, Cole saw land jutting up out of the dark blue water. He didn’t know where they were and it didn’t look like Cuba. They flew overland for another hour then landed on a massive runway and taxied in to a ramp surrounded by old concrete hangars. Cole recognized it as an air station. There were four helicopters on the pavement, three HH-65s and an HH-60 Jayhawk. On the far end of the ramp sat a C-130 with its crew scurrying around.

When the MH-65 shut down, the gunner escorted Cole over to the C-130. One of the pilots spoke briefly with the gunner then looked at Cole. He spent a few seconds looking him over before saying, “You are a pretty important mother-fucker, you know that?”