Chapter 3

Maveen said, "You know, the senders will be looking for the sent ... to make sure."

"Who are you?" I asked. Admittedly, I was pissed by the outcome of the 'mission.' Who knows if the mission was an arrangement or if the Agency had a genuine mission in the first place and we had fallen afoul of 'other plans?'

"The daughter of my father ... and that's documented. Da was a businessman ... and that's synonymous with barely legal pirate. He saw to it that I had the best training bribery could buy.

"He always said, 'Never trust a man who wears both suspenders and a belt.' And Da wore both.

"I was taught to plan ahead and that no plan survives first contact so there needs to be other plans and never give Murphy an even break."

"What is your plan?"

"If the doers have the slightest clue that I rescued you this boat and everything on board will be sitting on the bottom. You're in luck. I've been sailing with the mizzen and keeping the awning covering the lounging area. That stays. you and your men can stay under the awning or below ... what the fuck was that?"

"That was the capsules exploding."

"Those tiny pills?" she said. "They did that?"

Admittedly, it wasn't five hundred pounds of Semtex or Torpex but it was something that made a half pound block of C-4 look like a Lady Finger firecracker ... the Agency always did have the best toys.

At first light the the first of the inspectors overflew the boat. An innocent pass by a C-130 on a course to Panama. Maveen was at the wheel dressed in her best. The pilots took pictures.

She was a staple ... like bread, cheese or rice ... something you were always out of when you wanted it. She made visits to Panama Red's establishment a necessity for most of the fliers.

Lust is a burning flame.

She waved ... she always did. To do something different would bring a fast Coast Guard boat.

When she first entered the Caribbean they visited her.

"You lost?" shouted the Chief Petty Officer.

"Not yet, but I'm working on it!" she shouted back.

He laughed, "You're out here alone?"

"Not exactly."

"You have crew?"

"No. A Barrett M-82 A1.50 cal. People don't bother me much. You wouldn't have got as close as you are if I didn't respect the flag. If you had had an unusual accent I'd have ruined your day. These Raufoss Mk 211 cartridges are hard on engine blocks ... and metal hulls."

"Had any trouble?"

"Only once," she replied. "I don't expect any again. They tried me at night. I have a European Day/Night Low Light Thermal Imaging scope. I never realized how well it works until I needed it."

"You didn't kill anyone?"

"Damned if I know ... they didn't complain."

That was her only legitimate visit. The illegitimate visit speaks for itself. Or so she said.

The second arrival was a NOAA Sea King that stopped twice before settling down about a hundred yards off.

"Anything unusual happen during the night?" the man with the bullhorn asked.

"Yes."

"What?"

"A series of underwater bangs Felt them through the hull ... I didn't see anything and they weren't loud. I thought it might have been an earthquake?"

"That's exactly what happened, what time?"