Chapter 16

Rose was surprised but delighted that Osvaldo hadn't tried to separate her from her son. She used the days onboard the yacht to make a start in getting to know him, desperately trying to make up for so much lost time. The truth about how Donald had been able to recognise her came out quickly.

"Mama Brenda and Papa Graham never let me forget that I had real parents somewhere and that you loved me," Donald told her. "They showed me pictures of you. When I was little, Mama Brenda would tell me stories at bed-time and they were always about you coming to take me home one day."

"What happened to Brenda and Graham?" Rose asked.

Donald told her the story of how he had been snatched and how he had watched as Brenda and Graham were gunned down. Rose offered up a heart-felt prayer for the woman who had looked after her son. She wished she could have met this Brenda. What kind of generous spirit must she have had to raise Donald while all the time keeping Rose's memory alive for the boy? How difficult must that have been?

Rose saw that Donald seemed to have withdrawn within himself after re-telling the story of Brenda and Graham's death. She tried to think of the right thing to say to try to comfort her son.

"I think I would have liked your Mama Brenda," she told him.

"I do too. Why isn't Papa Johnny with us?" Donald asked innocently.

The question was so unexpected, so out of the blue that it caught Rose unawares and she dissolved into tears.

"What is it? What's wrong Mama?" asked a worried Donald.

It took some time for Rose to compose herself and then she began to tell her son the love story that was her life with Johnny Sinclair. Her love for Johnny had been so strong that every little thing about him was still etched in her memory. Every quirky habit, every look, expression and gesture was still fresh and she took the time now to share them with Johnny's son.

"And then Johnny was gone and you were taken away from me," she explained finally. "A brave young man found your Papa as he was dying and listened to his final words."

"What did Papa say, Mama?"

"He asked the stranger to tell me that he loved me and that he was so proud of you too, son," Rose managed to get out before breaking down again.

"Who killed Papa?" Donald asked.

That question helped Rose pull herself together, a mental image of Osvaldo igniting a fresh streak of anger deep inside her.

"The same man who hit you the other day. The same man that is holding us captive on this boat," she told her son.

"Oh," said Donald.

Once again Rose saw that her words had badly affected him and she pulled him into a protective hug, stroked his hair and rocked him gently.

"He won't harm you, I promise. There is someone who will save us both, you'll see," she whispered.

"What are you planning to do with them?" Macheda asked.

Osvaldo didn't reply right away. He was gazing out over the last of the Gulf of Mexico, as the yacht powered its way towards the passage between Florida's Key West on his port side and the large expanse of Cuba on the starboard. Snapping out of his daydream, he turned to his father.

"What I've always planned to do," he answered. "The boy has to go and after that I will marry Rose and take the Latour riches."

Macheda shook his head.

"I'm beginning to think that you no longer have the brains you were born with. Can't you see that everything's changed? We can never go back. The Order will always be there and they will not allow you to get away with this," he said bitterly. "You have finished us. You have let your greed cloud your judgement and now there is no way back."

"I still have influence within the Order; there are many men I can call upon. The Jerez-Gonzalez name means something and I'm confident that I can restore our family to its rightful position," Osvaldo snapped.

"Fool! We are nothing. The Order will close ranks on us, always they will stick together to protect themselves and their power. I'm afraid you will be disappointed in just how few of these men will even talk to you. Can't you get it into your head? You're a pariah, an outcast. You are on the outside now and they won't let you back in. Osvaldo, you have used violence once too often and the Order will not accept that."

"You're wrong, Papa! I will have it all, everything that we are due. Just wait and see," growled Osvaldo.

Macheda shook his head again. He hadn't lived to the ripe old age of 82 without understanding how the Order worked. Decisions would be taken on the basis of economics — what was best to protect the Order's wealth and influence — not sentiment or history. He knew his son was dangerously out of control and out of touch with reality. It would be difficult to make Osvaldo see sense, but he would work on him once they reached the island.

"At least we don't have to worry about the Order coming after us. As long as we keep our heads down and show we're not going to make any waves, they'll leave us alone," Macheda thought to himself.

Henry was spending more and more of his time in the communications centre. The fall-out from six deaths was proving extremely difficult to contain and he feared that at some point the media was going to find something that led them to the Order.

The deaths of a middle-aged couple and four upstanding pillars of the community remained a mystery to the local police and the belief that a twelve year-old boy was missing had also brought in the FBI. Henry was hoping that the identity of the boy would remain a mystery or the trail would inevitably eventually lead the FBI to him.

As Donald had never been officially adopted, there were no records of him anywhere other than the registration of his birth in Monroe. Even Donald's schooling had been done at home, so there were no school records to help the police or the FBI trace who he really was. Medical cover was also arranged privately, so again no records for the police or FBI to seize. He knew the Davidsons had some pictures of Rose that they shared with Donald, but he didn't think those would be enough to give the law any leads. With any luck they would be regarded as just routine family photos.

Henry admitted to himself that he had never been so nervous. The entire situation was balanced on a knife edge and he knew the Order couldn't afford any further uncontrolled incidents like this. He realised his resolve to try to recruit Gavin MacSween was being re-inforced all the time. The other council members were right, if he'd taken action against Osvaldo earlier, none of this would have happened. To his mind however, accepting violence was only possible if he had control over its use.

At least Gryffe Wilder had come through on tracing the yacht and there was some hope that things could be resolved soon. The latest satellite intelligence put the yacht close to the foot of Cuba and Henry guessed that its final destination was more than likely Haiti.

The history lesson that Henry had given Gavin had mentioned the fact that Osvaldo and Macheda's ancestor — Juan Perez — had celebrated the very first mass in the new world on Haiti. Henry was guessing that the family had retained connections to the island and that they had some bolt-hole there for emergencies.

Climbing the stairs back up to the house proper, Henry looked out of the window to see that Gavin was still taking advantage of his swimming pool.

"That has to be more than two hours without a rest. The boy has impressive stamina. Does he have enough about him to deal with Osvaldo effectively though, or am I taking a huge risk?" he wondered.

Henry checked on the position of the yacht throughout the day and was surprised when it passed the foot of Cuba, but then also passed the Haitian capital - Port-au-Prince and continued on to the Southern tip of the island. At last it seemed to have stopped at a tiny little island that seemed to be part of Haiti's national park. Finding it on a map was difficult at first, but when he pinpointed a larger island - Isla Corsa — that helped to locate the even smaller Isla Santa. Sinclair lifted the phone and placed a call to General Gryffe Wilder.

"Gryffe? It's Henry. The yacht appears to have reached its destination. Is there any chance you could get me some satellite images of the location?" he asked.

"Sure, Henry. Should I alert the FAT boys to move out?"

"Maybe it would be better to learn what we can before sending your troops in," Henry suggested. "Another day or two should allow us to gather intelligence and avoid any problems."

The General agreed that Henry's suggestion made sense and he promised that he would have the satellite images sent over as soon as possible.

"Henderson?"

"Yes, Sir," the butler responded.

"Could you ask Mr MacSween to join me please?"

"Of course, Sir."

A few minutes later Gavin appeared, curious to see the inside of the communications centre. He was topless and his impressive physique glistened from the sweat he had generated while practising his martial arts.

"Anything interesting?" Gavin asked.

"I'm just waiting for it to arrive," Henry informed him. "It would seem that Osvaldo has reached his destination and I'm hoping to get some satellite images in the next few minutes."

"Where is he?" Gavin asked, a sudden lift of excitement in his voice.

"An island off the coast of Haiti," Henry replied. "You'll remember I told you his ancestors have a connection to that place going back some years."

Gavin tried to conjure up an image of where Haiti was, but his knowledge of world geography wasn't good enough for that. Henry perhaps read his moment of silence for what it was and turned his screen round so that Gavin could see the map that was displayed there.

"Here's Florida, that's Cuba and that's Haiti," Henry pointed to each location. "The island we're interested in is here."

Gavin peered at the tiny speck on the map.

"Can you make it any bigger?" he asked.

Sinclair clicked on the map and view zoomed in. Gavin noted the larger Isla Corsa and then the much smaller Isla Santa. Another click brought Isla Santa even closer and Gavin saw some green shading and the legend 'Parque Nacional Jaragua'.

"What's this?" Gavin asked, pointing to a black line that formed a rough rectangle.

"I'm not sure," Henry replied. "The name means 'Holy Isle' in English, perhaps it's a church?"

A further click didn't reveal any more detail.

"I'm afraid that this rather complicates things," said Henry.

"Why?" asked Gavin.

"Well, look at it. It's an island. It's isolated. I said that I'd transport you to wherever Rose and Donald ended up, but I can't see any easy way of approaching the island without alerting Osvaldo and his men."

"Zoom back out a bit," Gavin suggested.

Henry did so and Gavin stopped him when the bigger Isla Corsa was also on the screen.

"Why not drop me here? It's far enough away that they wouldn't hear anything."

"But what's the point? It looks what, ten, twelve miles away from where they are," said Henry.

"I'll swim," said Gavin, "so long as there's no risk of being attacked by sharks."

"Are you sure? That's a heck of a distance and how will you get Rose and Donald out if you're successful?" Henry asked.

"Once I have control of the island, it shouldn't be a problem for you to approach either by boat or helicopter," Gavin answered.

"But how will you manage to swim and carry the kit you'll need to take?"

"I intend to travel light, it won't be a problem," Gavin assured him.

Henry was comforted by the very recent display of Gavin's swimming ability — if the young man said he could swim that distance, he was willing to believe him.