Richard Johnson - Deadly Cargo - A Chilling Naval Terrorism Thriller

“Ahoy there!” a shout rang out across the water.

They looked up and saw a dirty old platform made of wood that looked as if it had been salvaged from derelict dock pilings. Toward the rear of the barge stood a rusted crane, a spool of cable and an engine that appeared to have been yanked out of a dead tractor. A small tug was positioned behind the barge, pushing it ahead, and apparently straining under the load, as Dan looked at Nicole’s pretty dress then nodded toward the captain of the little tug. A cloud of black smoke belched from the exhaust stacks.

“I think maybe you have overdressed. Levis might be more suitable.”

Behind the wheel was a gray-haired old man, bent with age, wearing ragged clothes of dark, indistinguishable color. Between his few rotted teeth he held a limp cigar, dripping saliva from its unlit tip.

Nicole’s face reddened a shade. “I think you might be right.” She hurried off, down the steps into the starboard hull and then into the main stateroom.

“Senor de la Vega?” Dan shouted and waved toward the tug. “Thank you for coming. Have you had breakfast? I think my wife will be fixing something, if you want to join us.”

“A pleasure,” the old man shouted back. “I have had nothing to eat since yesterday. May I raft up to your boat after I set my barge adrift?”

Dan moved to the lifelines. “I will place the fenders and catch your lines.”

It wasn’t long before the boats were lashed together, and the old man climbed into the catamaran, leaving the barge to drift a few hundred yards away on the calm morning sea. Presently, Nicole came into the cockpit wearing Levis and a baggy t-shirt that had obviously been used for painting the bottom of the boat. She handed each of the men a glass of orange juice, smiled at Senor de la Vega and asked, “Now, what may I fix for your breakfast?”

A light swell rocked the boats gently as the men finished their breakfast and their negotiation. “Ah, senor,” Juan Baptista de la Vega droned, “the thousand dollars is my fee to come out and find you and survey the situation so I can see what I can do for you. It is a lot of trouble to hook up my barge and tow it this far, and fuel is very expensive.”

“I think I hear some bad news coming,” Dan said and exhaled loudly.

The old man didn’t pause to listen to the complaint. “Of course, it is customary in the salvage industry that after we get the container back to the island I will expect to receive a percentage of whatever is inside. I know that I am taking a very big chance, because it might be nothing of value. But we are in this together and it is only fair, do you not think?”

No, Dan did not think it was fair. “A deal is a deal,” he argued. “We agreed on a thousand dollars for you to salvage our container. You never said anything about a percentage, and I expect you to be a man of your word.”

“Oh, senor,” – the old man bowed his head as if ashamed – “I am sorry that you think such a thing of me. I am grandfather to twenty-two, father to nine, husband to three… or was it four, I can no longer remember. It cuts me to the heart to hear you say that you think I am not a man of my word. I weep to hear such a thing.”

“Dan,” Nicole whispered loudly through the cabin door, jerking her head for him to come and speak to her.

Irritation was in his voice as he said, “Excuse me, Senor de la Vega. My wife wants a word with me.”

“May she be more kind with you than you are with me,” the old man lamented. Then he held out an empty glass. “When you return, please bring me some more orange juice.”

Dan took the glass and shook his head in disgust as he rose from his place on the cushioned cockpit bench and went to the door. Nicole had a hard look in her eye. “What the heck are you doing? You trying to break this old man’s heart?”

“I’m negotiating,” Dan explained in a hushed voice. “He’s trying to rip us off.”

“Well, don’t be so hard on the poor old man. Look at him, he has nothing. And all he’s trying to do is support his family. My gosh, nine kids and twenty-two grandkids? Think how hard that is. It won’t hurt for us to be a little generous with him.”

Dan handed her the glass. “He wants more orange juice.”

She took the empty glass and stared at it. “I’ll have to make some more. He already drank all we had.”

Dan shot her a sour grin. “We’re trying to be generous, right?” He returned to his seat and Nicole closed the cabin door and headed for the galley. A moment later, she heard Dan exclaim at the top of his voice, “Sixty:forty! That’s robbery!”

As she reached the top of the steps leading from the galley, she heard de la Vega state his terms. “Senor, I am an old man, and my barge might not look like much to you. But it is the only barge within 200 miles. If I go away from here, you will have nothing. And, if you think about it, I can always come back and take this treasure for myself after you are gone. But if I help you, you will at least have something. We will both have something. It makes good business, no?”

“Dan,” Nicole’s voice called from the cabin door again.

“Por favor,” – Dan broke away from the negotiations again to talk with Nicole. “What now? Did you hear what he is demanding?”

She handed him a full glass of orange juice. “I did. I think the whole Caribbean did. It woke the kids and they’re wondering what’s going on. I don’t think all this arguing and bickering is good for them.”

“So? What do you want me to do?” His voice was tense with frustration.

She looked at him with a question in her eyes. “Are we doing this, or not?”

“You think we should take the sixty:forty split?” he asked, his voice rising to a near falsetto.

She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. Let’s see, last time I checked, sixty beat zero all to heck.”

He looked hard at her for a long moment, and she stared back without flinching. Seeing that she wasn’t softening, he relented. “Oh, all right.” He threw his free hand into the air, nearly upsetting the glass in his other hand, then he turned and went back to his seat in the cockpit, handing the glass to de la Vega before he sat down. The next thing Nicole saw was Dan reluctantly shaking hands with Senor de la Vega.

“Okay.” The old man clapped his leathery hands then held one out, palm up.

“What’s that?” Dan asked.

The old man closed his hand and rubbed his thumb across his forefinger, the universal sign language for ‘pay me’.

“You want your money in advance?”

“Senor, I have already spent several hours of my time, burned a lot of fuel and put wear and tear on my equipment. It is only right that you pay me for my services.”

“And what have I gotten for my thousand dollars?” Dan protested.

“You need not worry, senor. I will load the container on my barge and take it to the island, as promised.” His palm was still out.

The door to the cabin opened, and Nicole stepped into the cockpit. Dan went to meet her and she handed him a stack of $20 bills that she had taken from their onboard safe. “Here,” she said as she approached de la Vega and held out her hand. “Half now, the rest when we have the container safely ashore. I think that’s only fair, don’t you?” She smiled sweetly as she folded then tucked the rest of the stack of bills inside her blouse. “I’ll just hold the rest right here,” – she patted her chest – “for safe keeping.”

For a moment, she thought she detected a flicker of anger in the old man’s eyes, then he took the bills and his expression changed. “Thank you, senora. My wife and children and grandchildren will bless you.” He grunted as he leaned forward to rise from the seat, bracing his hands on his lower back and wincing as he straightened up. “Ah,” he gasped, seeing the concern on Nicole’s face. “It is an old injury from a hard life at sea. But I will be all right. You will not be disappointed. I can still work hard. Did I hear you say you have a son?”