David Leadbeater: Caribbean Gold

Immediately, it let out a tuneful chime.

The voice message was from Crouch.

“Hey, not sure when you will land but we’re based in Kingston at the Ocean Suites. Something’s come up. We’re heading out right now, but will contact when finished.”

Crouch hung up. Alicia half-expected him to end with the word “over”, as if talking through a radio, but that was the way with Crouch. Still associated with and happy to be living in his old SAS world. He was a sentimentalist at heart, and held the past dear. She sighed.

What now?

Instead of jumping right in, which was what she wanted to do, it looked like she was going to have to kick her heels for a while. Crouch hadn’t said where the team were headed or when they’d be back. Alicia decided to head over to the Ocean View and see if anything developed from there. She exited the terminal and jumped into a cab, took the ride into town and then around the outskirts. Kingston itself appeared to be an odd mix of everything she’d expected.

As she climbed out of the cab and paid the driver, her cellphone rang. Great timing, Crouch, she thought and basked for a moment in the direct sunlight before looking at her screen.

It wasn’t Crouch. It was Healey, the youngest member of their team. Alicia immediately brushed off a trickle of ice water that started to seep down her spine. Healey never rang her. Why would…

“Yeah? What’s up?” she answered quickly.

“Alicia? That you?”

The boy sounded panicked.

“Nappy stuck again?”

“No. Listen. Whoa, wait.”

Alicia tried to pick through the words and inflections. Despite her ribbing, Healey was a soldier and a highly capable, if inexperienced, member of their team. It sounded like he was running.

“We followed a lead. Took a gamble. No danger to be seen but we knew something was hanging back just around the fringes of this thing.”

Healey spoke in bursts as he ran and in quiet tones. Alicia didn’t interrupt, she needed as much information as she could get.

“They must have been watching us. Maybe even a false lead, a lure. Brought us out here and then pounced. They got Russo, Alicia. And Crouch. Caitlyn too. I’m—”

Now Alicia was highly focused, preparing her mind for what was to come next as Healey paused again.

“Are they still chasing you?”

“Yeah. But I think… I think I’m clear. Wait.”

Alicia waited, her every instinct straining like lions on a leash, determined and impatient to go to the aid of her colleagues.

“Okay, it’s all focused around this treasure they say has never been found. Captain Morgan’s loot. It started with the five ships found off Panama, which some now say aren’t his ships at all and others say are the lesser spoils of his fleet.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m trying to get coordinates as we speak.”

Good job, Healey.

“They think the ships might contain little treasure and mostly bottles of rum. Which is why the brand named after the pirate are sponsoring the search. It would be great publicity for them. But it seems we’ve stepped on the toes of some big criminal outfit. Something’s off about the whole thing, Alicia. Something’s very off.”

“How long ago did this go down?”

“Minutes. We’re still—” Healey went quiet.

Alicia listened through the connection, wishing with everything she had that the lad would get the bloody coordinates over.

“All right, they’re gone. I think I’m safe. And yeah, if the five ships hold no treasure why are these assholes all over it? It can’t be about the rum, surely.”

Everything’s about the rum, Alicia thought in a moment of lighter consideration.

“The coordinates?” she asked.

“Yeah, here you go.”

Healey grunted, and she heard a man’s gruff voice, a shout and the sounds of a scuffle. Alicia felt her body go rigid, her fists clenching. Powerless to help, she listened as men set about her friend and colleague, the man she’d fought alongside in the field.

She could only hope for the best.

Healey cried out as a blow landed, then hit back. A man yelled and the entire melee became a jumble of blows and curse words. Alicia’s heart leapt when someone shouted: “Shit, don’t let the bastard get away!” Then noises of jogging and heavy breathing and a sudden groan from Healey.

A shout: “Got him!”

Alicia’s heart sank.

More wrestling sounds and a few cries from unknown voices spanned the next few seconds. Then Healey groaned and she could almost see him beaten on the floor.

Somebody said: “His phone. Grab it and take it to the boss.”

“I’ll get the phone. You grab his legs.”

“Shit. Bastard ran a long way, man. That’s a long way back.”

“Hey, that’s the job.”

“You think we’ll get something out of him?”

“Dunno, man. Easier him than the big dude and the old guy. Even the woman looks tougher than this kid.”

Alicia felt the strain in her knuckles as her fists clenched even harder.

“He’s connected here,” another voice, “talking to someone.”

“You’re fucking kidding me. Bring it here.”

Alicia felt her eyes close in despair. Healey was down. The crew captured. Location unknown. Could a computer whiz track the call? Did she have access to one in Jamaica? Shit, there just wasn’t enough time.

“Whoever you are,” hushed vehement tones spoke down the phone line, “you’d best prepare four caskets. Five, if you’re planning on joining us.”

And then laughter. Vicious laughter. Alicia listened as the man turned the phone off. The prospects of finding a hidden fortune always brought out the worst. Today was no exception.

Alicia would never give in though. Time was her enemy, but all else could be fought and fought until even the last shred of hope was gone. She held the phone away from her ear, checked the screen.

Thank fuck for that.

A text message had been received.

It displayed the coordinates to Healey’s location.

She prayed she could make it in time.

Alicia exploded into a flurry of action. The coordinates, when entered into an app on her cellphone, pointed toward Montego Bay, on the opposite side of the bloody island. Hours to drive it.

Alicia processed it all in just a few moments. Her soldier’s mind wanted to fight, to strike out; the old impulses hard to quell. But this was a highly unusual situation. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to face something like this alone.

And alone she was.

You didn’t trust the locals in an unknown city, and her own team were too far away. In short then, there was only one option. Alicia flagged down another cab and took it all the way back to the airport. She used her other team’s SPEAR credentials, approved at the highest level by the US government, to finesse access to the private hangers and runways and took a quick wander around. The sun glared, the hubbub clamored at her, the sweat popped across her brow and shoulders, but nothing broke her focus. In the end there were only two real possibilities.

Alicia studied them closely. The one she chose was just that bit younger, that bit greener, that bit more… likely.

“Hey, I need your help.”

“Ma’am,” the young chopper pilot said. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh yeah. You call me ma’am again and I’ll box your friggin’ ears.”

The pilot looked blank. “Excuse me?”

“Look mate—” she moved beside him and put an arm gently around his shoulders “—the powers-that-be say I have to go to Montego Bay. They say now. I’d be willing to throw a little extra at the flyboy that helps me out. Whaddya say?”