Takedown

CHAPTER 14

Deuce followed the gray-haired man and his muscle-bound buddy as they drove several blocks then took a turn onto St. Cajetan’s only highway. According to his GPS, the road wrapped around the entire island, with only a single gap on the south side that would require a four-wheel drive to traverse. Not something in large supply around here.

Deuce kept a healthy distance from them, enjoying the view of the ocean as he drove, not particularly concerned about being spotted. His car looked like a hundred others he’d seen on the road today, and he doubted the gray-haired man or his buddy would notice him. He was just another tourist exploring the island.

The two men made no stops, keeping a steady pace until they’d traveled about thirty miles into a less densely populated area, where they finally turned onto a narrow road that looked very much like a long driveway.

Whatever it led to was hidden by dense tropical foliage.

Deuce sped past the turn, drove for a few seconds, then pulled to the side of the road and waited for the highway to clear before making a U. He headed back and came to a stop at a roadside fruit stand located only yards away from the driveway.

After cutting the engine, he grabbed his camera, and filed through the shots of the two men he’d taken outside the strip club. The muscle didn’t look familiar, but he was positive he’d seen the gray-haired man’s face before. He just couldn’t remember where.

He got out of the car and approached the fruit stand, which was manned by a local boy of about nine or ten. He raised the camera and kept the driveway in frame as he took several shots of the boy climbing off his perch and approaching with a plate of sliced mango. “You like a taste?”

“Sure.” Deuce fingered a slice and popped it into his mouth. Damn, it was good. Gesturing toward the driveway, he asked, “You have any idea where that goes?”

The boy nodded and grinned, showing him big white teeth. “Pappy Leo’s house.”

“Who?”

“Pappy Leo. King of St. Cajetan.”

Deuce realized he was talking about Leonard Latham, the billionaire who owned the island.

The kid pushed the plate toward him. “More?”

Deuce ate another slice and said, “Have you been up there before? To the house?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically. “Pappy Leo asked me to bring him fruit. Paid me twice what I wanted. He’s a very nice man.”

“So what does the house look like?”

“Big,” the boy said. “Very big.”

Deuce gestured toward the driveway again. “And is that the only way in?”

The boy shook his head. “They have a service road in back. No trucks allowed this way.” He pushed his plate forward again. “The mango is good, yes?”

“Yes,” Deuce said after sucking down another slice. Probably the best he’d ever tasted.

“Will you buy some?”

Deuce tucked the camera under his arm and reached for his wallet.

“I do believe I will,” he said.

Deuce found the service road on a street full of rundown shacks at the rear of Pappy Leo’s estate. He parked the car in front of an abandoned lean-to and traveled on foot, stepping past a sign at the mouth of the road that read PRIVATE. DELIVERIES ONLY.

About a quarter mile in, he heard the echo of voices and the slam of a door. A moment later, an engine started and accelerated in his direction. He backed away from the road and hid in the underbrush as a van rumbled past, the name ST. CAJETAN MAIL SERVICE printed on its side.

When it was gone, he waited for a moment then returned to the road, and continued traveling along it until it widened slightly and began to rise up a small hill. He moved into the bushes again and worked his way to the crest of the hill, then crouched amidst a cluster of coconut trees and peered down toward a large white mansion that looked as if it belonged on a Southern plantation.

Though he saw no fence around the perimeter, there was a checkpoint manned by two uniformed security guards at the end of the service road.

He heard voices again and shifted his gaze. Three men sat at a table on a large veranda at the rear of the mansion, drinking beers as they talked.

Deuce raised his camera to study them more closely through the telephoto lens. The one facing him was the gray-haired man he’d been following. To his left was a man Deuce recognized from photographs — Leonard Latham, or, as the kid had put it, Pappy Leo. The man sitting directly across from them had his back to Deuce, but his gray-streaked hair was pulled into a ponytail.

Valac?

Deuce wished he could hear what they were saying.

He snapped off several shots of them, then trained his lens on the mansion and its lush grounds. He counted four exterior CCTV cams covering the courtyard and walkways and the lap pool at the rear of the house. He didn’t see any more guards, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. If ponytail really was Valac, Deuce didn’t imagine he’d go without protection.

As Deuce lowered the camera, the gray-haired man jerked his head up, looking in his direction.

Shit, Deuce thought as he ducked out of sight.

Did he see the reflection of the lens?

Deuce heard a shout that sounded like a command, and the jungle around the mansion came alive as uniformed guards rushed out from behind trees and started toward him.

Son of a bitch.

Slinging the camera around his neck, he headed back the way he’d come. Fast.

Not wanting to chance using the road, he made his way through the underbrush, hacking at it with his hands to clear a path. He heard a radio squawk behind him, closer than he expected, and dove to the ground, rolling under the protection of a large bush as he reached toward the small of his back for the piece Cooper had given him.

It was gone. The holster must have been dislodged when he rolled.

He scanned the ground but saw no sign of it.

Seconds later, two guards appeared on the roadside only yards away, checking the trees and undergrowth for any sign of movement. They clutched what looked like FAMAS Infanterie assault rifles.

These guys weren’t fooling around.

Deuce held his breath and remained perfectly still, wondering if they’d stay where they were or go off road.

And if they did, then what?

He couldn’t allow himself to be seen or this op was blown. It was bad enough that the gray-haired guy had noticed the glint of sunlight off the camera lens, and Deuce cursed himself for being so careless. Like Alex and Cooper, he had spent time in the military — a stint in Kabul with the US Marines — and he should’ve known better than to make stupid mistakes.

He heard voices. Radios squawking. More guards approaching. One of the two on the road turned in his direction and stepped into the underbrush.

Wonderful.

The guard was getting closer, but making the rookie mistake of looking into the distance instead of down at the bushes directly around him. He wasn’t checking his flank, either, and if circumstances were different, Deuce would’ve had him on the ground by now.

The guard took another step forward and Deuce’s heart stopped.

The SIG and holster he’d lost lay in the dirt only three yards away, a foot or so from the guard’s boot. Another step and the guy would trip over them.

Finding that gun would prove that what the gray-haired man had seen was a real concern, not just a trick of light. That someone might still be hiding nearby. And if the guard came to that conclusion and kept looking, Deuce would have no choice but to deal with him.

Preparing himself for the worst, he watched as the guard continued to inch forward, looking as if he were about to take that fateful step. The gun was right in front of the guy, partially covered by leaves, but plainly visible in the sunlight.

Then a voice blared out of the radio, telling everyone to report in.

The guard stopped, and took another quick look around before pulling the radio from his belt and thumbing the call button.

“All clear,” he said as he turned and walked back toward the road.

Seconds later, several more all clears were transmitted, then a voice said, “All right, false alarm. Return to your positions.”

Deuce quietly exhaled as the guard joined his partner and two others who were now waiting on the road. They had a brief conversation, and one of them laughed, then they headed as a group toward the house.

Deuce waited a full ten minutes before he climbed out of the bushes, grabbed his gun and holster, and hightailed it back to his car.