Harold and the Angel of Death Page 15

  “Ship, and yes. Evidently, we are on a slow boat that’s not even going to China. Garcia told me this is a combined trip to save money. It’s a shakedown cruise as well as a meetup with Chuck. So, we can slow down to fish or whatever will eat up time. Captain Frank told me we should get to where we are going soon, wherever that is.”

  “Well, at least it’s beautiful.”

  “Yep, it keeps growing on me more and more. There’s something about the salt life that just agrees with me. Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen this part of the world before. I know I’m feeling better about it, but what about you? I imagine you’re missing a certain someone.”

  Joshua tapped the edge of the deck. “Maria. We’ve been talking by phone quite a lot since I’ve been gone. She keeps reminding me that I’m no longer a single man who can do as he pleases.”

  “Let me talk to Garcia. I can get her on board with us the next time we have to go out.”

  “I wish it was that easy,” said Joshua with a sigh. “Maria isn’t the type of woman who enjoys having others take care of her. That’s one of the things I love about her. Don’t get me wrong, she would enjoy fishing off the boat or riding one of the inflatables getting pulled along the back of the ship, but then she would want to do something she felt was useful. Be honest with me, if we didn’t allow ourselves a few distractions, this ship would be pretty boring.”

  Harold looked concerned. “So, what are you thinking, Doc?”

  Joshua took a sip of coffee and looked out over the water. “Leaving the ship is not an option. I know Maria isn’t happy alone on the island either. I need to put her first, but I’m not sure how to do that at the moment.”

  Harold leaned in closer to Joshua. “What does that mean?”

  Joshua grabbed Harold’s hand in the same fatherly fashion he had always managed, no matter how large Harold’s hand had gotten. “Harry, I don’t know. I know we are a family, but one member of my family, the most important member, needs my time. No, she deserves my time, and she deserves to be happy.”

  “I agree, but how can you do that and this?” asked Harold as he slid his hand away.

  Joshua went back to tapping the deck. “I don’t know. To top it off, I’m still worried about Bill. I told Maria the situation, and she thinks we should go to North Carolina and try to find him before something happens to him. If nothing has happened already.”

  “Doc, I would never stand in the way of you and Maria, or Bill. I need you, but so do a lot of other people we love. You do what you think is best.”

  Joshua suddenly stood. “I think I’ll go for a stroll around the ship.”

  “What about your pole?”

  “Let me know if I catch anything.”

  Joshua turned and walked up the steps to the next deck. Harold looked over the water and wondered how he could help Joshua and Maria. A sudden sadness rushed through his chest, and before he could stop himself, tears began to fall from his eyes. Images of his mother’s memorial service and father’s funeral came rushing into the forefront of his mind. Harold took several deep breaths to regain control from his grief. Why now? It’s been weeks, months, why do I feel this way now? Instinctively he started to go after Joshua but stopped.

  Harold spoke to himself, “No, I can’t keep running to Doc. I need to deal with this myself.”

  His glassy eyes looked aft. A small pod of dolphins broke the surface of the still water just behind his lures. They swam in a serpentine pattern and maintained a steady distance from the ship. Harold forgot his grief as he watched the pod for several minutes. He wondered what caused them to appear and how they managed to maintain such a consistent distance. After a few minutes, they disappeared below the surface. A moment later, they were to the port of the yacht. All three dolphins broke through the top of the calm seas and hurtled themselves vertically into the air, flipped over, and dove back under.

  “Aren’t dolphins amazing creatures?” Garcia’s voice startled Harold.

  “I didn’t hear you walk up.” Harold stood.

  “Yea, I saw you were lost in thought, so I thought I’d give you a minute. Are you doing okay?”

  Harold let out a jagged breath. “Yea. I don’t know why, but something brought my parents to mind.”

  Both men focused their attention back to the sea as they heard a dolphin squeaking and saw it walking backwards on the water.

  “It looks like they’re going to give us a show,” said Harold.

  “Maybe they think you could use it.” Garcia paused for several seconds and then continued, “I don’t talk much about what I’ve experienced in my life, but I think this might help you. I lost my mother while I was in the field about five years ago. Nobody told me she had passed away. It wouldn’t have done me any good to know since I was undercover. If I let myself think about the first time I walked up to her headstone and saw she was really dead, I could start crying like a baby.” Garcia wiped a tear from his cheek. “I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that it’s normal to feel the way you do. You didn’t lose your parents that long ago, and the grief never goes away. You’ll just get better at dealing with it.”

  “Dealing with it or burying it inside me?” asked Harold.

  Garcia shrugged. “Some days I’m not sure there’s a difference.”

  Both men continued watching as the dolphins danced through the still waters portside for another minute or two before they disappeared below the water.

  Harold walked over and sat on the couch, and Garcia joined him. “I assume you didn’t come up here just to check on me,” said Harold. “What’s up?”

  “We should be arriving this afternoon at Crossroads Key to meet Chuck and iron out the business details for the buy. I wanted to see if you were ready for your debut.”

  Harold stretched his legs and arms and let out a grunt as he attempted to remove the stiffness from sitting on the deck. “I thought you guys were doing the deal. I’m just window dressing, right?”

  Garcia leaned towards him. “It isn’t quite that simple.”

  Here it comes.

  “You are the face of PDS,” said Garcia. “Chuck will expect you to cut the deal. I’m not sure he will even allow me to sit with you when it happens. Do you think you can handle the sale?”

  “That’s it?” smirked Harold. “You just want me to broker a business deal? That’s not a problem.”

  Garcia sat back and picked up a white mug of coffee Harold had not noticed when he sat down. He looked over the rim at Harold as he drank. Garcia smacked his lips and slowly lowered his mug. “Frank sure does make a fine cup of coffee. So, what exactly did you think I wanted you for?”

  “Beats me. I guess I had a crazy idea that you were going to try and recruit me. I assumed part of your interest in me was my berserker ability.”

  Garcia looked back at Harold with a blank expression. He finally spoke. “I didn’t think you were the type.”

  “I’m not,” said Harold.

  “Then let me put your fears to rest. I’m not planning on making you some sort of secret agent. You and your company are assets. That means we can utilize you for our benefit for the greater good. There’s nothing else I’m looking for.”

  “Good. I’m glad we got that cleared up. Now, what am I selling Chuck?” replied Harold.

  “Rifles with smart rounds.”

  Harold worked to hide his shock. “I think I heard you wrong,” said Harold. “You mentioned advanced weapons in the board meeting. We make missiles and rockets. Small arms has been a side business at best and a money loser at worst for PDS.”

  “Yep,” Garcia shot back. “I knew you’d be surprised.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. I had always assumed we’d be offering some sort of missile deal and go after some real psychos with real money.”

  “That’s why I wanted to chat with you alone about this detail.”

  Harold leaned into Garcia until he could smell the coffee coming off Garcia’s breath. “Don’t you mean you have m
e alone on a ship in the middle of the ocean? You led me and the board members on.”

  Garcia held his ground, “My superiors and I thought about tempting Chuck with some of your more exotic weaponry, but we’re concerned about what would happen if any real weapons managed to walk away. Besides, your company is being paid just as I promised. Nobody in California has complained.”

  Harold turned away and drummed the coffee table with his fingers as if he were playing the piano. He stared down at his hand and tried to form his question carefully. His tapping continued, and he looked back up and said, “I don’t care what California is telling you. I don’t think my company is the right fit. Many of my best people are rocket scientists, engineers, and physicists. Missiles and rockets are our specialties. I don’t see them getting excited by the prospect of making rifles with no missile or rocket projects on the table. Not to mention, I have a contingent that are weapons averse and refuse to work on anything related to our missile work. I just don’t see how this will fit.”

  “I understand your concern, but frankly I know your company better than you do.”

  “No, you think you know my company better than I do.”

  Garcia relaxed his posture and laid his arm across the back of the couch. “Smart weapons require a great amount of knowledge in physics. The armament uses a combination of microtechnology, the newest in laser-designation targeting systems that can fit on top of a rifle and air resistance to move the bullet where you want it to go. We need great minds that can build the targeting system into the rifles, and manufacture the guided bullets.”

  “That may be, but I know we are going to lose good people over this, and then what? How is any of this going to get us closer to the goal of gaining defense contracts, or NASA contracts for that matter?”

  Garcia smiled and pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket. “Please, we’re CIA.”

  Harold found himself looking at his reflection where Garcia’s eyes once were. “I’m not sure this is the time to joke around.”

  “Who said I’m joking? The sun’s reflection off the water has been killing me, but I wanted to look you in the eye before I put these things on. Seriously, it’s not a problem. My people have been working with Tom. We already have prototype machinery in your factory. It’s not much, just enough for small batch runs. The machines will create enough weaponry to convince Chuck we have access to these experimental weapons. Tom has some of your best people working to improve the prototypes. It’s a win-win. Just like I told you in the boardroom.”

  “What about the rest of my employees?” asked Harold.

  “There’s going to be some attrition, but every company has that. Besides, you still have your existing projects once your contracts are unfrozen. I’m not reorganizing your company. I’ve just expanded its role.”

  Harold sat back, crossed his arms, and stared out over the calm waters. Tom and I need to have a talk about what he is doing with my dad’s company.

  Garcia broke his train of thought. “So, are you in or not?”

  Harold knew Garcia thought he had him, and he did, at least for now. “I think we’re probably past that question. So, how many weapons am I selling and for how much?”

  “We are offering Chuck one hundred smart rifles with a thousand rounds of ammunition for twenty million dollars.”

  “Those are some expensive long guns,” quipped Harold.

  Garcia crossed his arms and grinned. “The advantages of the black market. So, can you do it?”

  Harold let out a short laugh. “Please, I’m Parabolic Defense Systems. Making and selling weapons at a profit is what I do.”

  Garcia smacked the couch cushion with his hand. “Good. We’ll be at the rendezvous point soon.”

  Harold scowled. “I thought you said we are meeting this afternoon. It’s still morning.”

  Garcia stood and stretched. “I did, and we are, but we’re taking the Kodiak. Sweet Revenge is our rest and recovery tool. I want her out of radar range long before Chuck arrives.”

  “But what about the defense systems and all the Franks?”

  “Contingency. I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck in the middle of the ocean defenseless if we’re ever found.”

  Harold stood up. “I can get behind that.”

  “Good. Then it sounds like everything is clear. Be prepared to leave the ship at 11 a.m. The Kodiak ride is another thirty minutes on the water. One word of warning, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. Bumpier than the first day we rode.”

  Harold looked past Garcia to the ocean. “She looks as calm as a lake.”

  “That’s because she’s not awake. Frank tells me a weak cold front is moving through, and the winds will pick up a little bit. It’s nothing we can’t handle, but the sea won’t look this calm. Until then.”

  Harold walked to his office and locked the door. Unlocking his upper right-hand drawer, he pulled out Darla’s welcome aboard gift. It was scrambled satellite phone she had smuggled on board. After the big tour, she had scanned the office for bugs, and Garcia was true to his word, there were no listening devices. Even so, Darla had told him not to use this phone for private conversations with Tom. The beauty of the large antennae phone in his hand was not just that it was scrambled, but it only worked on one channel and connected to a twin phone held by Tom.

  The phone rang several times before Tom picked up.

  “Is this my morning wake-up call?” asked a groggy Tom.

  “Sorry, I thought you would be waking up by now.”

  Tom’s voice slowly became clearer as he spoke. “It’s not your fault. We had a late night at work. A few employees have left the company, and we’re scrambling to get those roles filled. I don’t understand why there isn’t a pool of physicist with impeccable security credentials lined up for defense contractor jobs,” Tom said sarcastically. “The attrition sort of surprised me. When word got around the rumor mill that we were focusing on smart rifles, several people quit in protest and said they didn’t sign up to be involved in that kind of business. I guess they were able to talk themselves past the missiles since they are used so rarely and can only be owned by the government.”

  Harold’s voice was filled with concern. “What’s going on out there? I need to know if this whole thing is going to be a problem.”

  Tom yawned into the phone. “Sorry, no, nothing you need to worry about. I have everything handled for now. So, how’s the Caribbean? Are you missing Malibu yet?”

  “I miss it every day. It’s beautiful out here though. Did you know Garcia has a yacht that we use to go meet people?”

  Tom’s low moan came across Harold’s phone. He assumed Tom was stretching. “A yacht?” Tom asked. “No. When are you going to invite me out to cruise the seas with you?”

  Harold laughed at the idea. “I don’t think Garcia would approve, but don’t worry. I plan on getting this ship one day. She’s beautiful. You know me. I don’t care about this stuff, so if I tell you she’s beautiful then it’s really special.”

  “Yea, now you have my curiosity peaked.”

  “Speaking of the few possessions I love, how’s my home?”

  Tom’s voice sounded more alert. “Well, I appreciate you making me your tenant, but it’s empty without you guys in it. I never realized how large your parent’s place was until I moved in alone.”

  “What about Garcia’s men?”

  “You mean the Franks? They’re around. There is one guy that sleeps in your old room on the other side of the house. There are two more over in Joshua’s house. A lot of the time all three hang out there. Frank said it gives them a better view of the estate, but I think they’re afraid of breaking something over here they can’t afford to replace.”

  Harold looked down at his father’s desk and ran his free hand across the bloodstains on the top of it. “Frank gets around. He’s on the ship too.”

  Tom’s laughter emanated from the phone, and Harold pulled the receiver away from his ear until he finished. “Sorry, I just
think it’s funny. It isn’t like I care who these men are. But I am wondering why there aren’t any women agents here. California, and the feds, are pretty particular about equal rights. It isn’t like I need men guarding the place.”

  “Are you sure you’re not just looking for a date?” joked Harold.

  “You know better,” Tom groused.

  “Take it easy. I wasn’t trying to infer anything, just making a joke. Besides, I’m wondering the same thing. Garcia mentioned Alices, but I have yet to talk to any. Aliases, super-secret agents. There is something that doesn’t pass the smell test with Agent Garcia Hernandez, but I can’t put my finger on it. Darla tells me he isn’t dirty, but I’m not sure. It’s little things, like nothing but Franks, that get to me. Then there’s this guy Chuck that we are trying to set up. He and Chuck know a lot about each other. Darla says it’s normal to mix truth and lies, and that it’s a sign of a good agent, but I’m not so sure. Finally, it’s the company, Tom. How did Garcia get you and the board to agree to start manufacturing small arms?”

  “I thought you knew.”

  Harold stood up and began to pace a couple of steps back and forth across the room. “Did he tell you I agreed?”

  Tom’s hesitated, and then he said, “No, not in so many words. He was so nonchalant about it when he first approached me that we thought you had already signed off on the idea. To be honest, I’m surprised to hear your reaction.”

  Harold stopped and looked out the window as he spoke. “My dad would have never agreed to this. I feel like I’m letting him down.”

  Tom’s voice was soft and calming, “Harry, I don’t want to hear that coming from you. I loved your dad like he was an uncle, and I can promise you that he would have done exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to save the company.”

  Harold knew Tom was serious. Tom had learned of Harold’s familiar name by observing Joshua when they were kids, and he only used it when he wanted Harold to pay attention to him. Tom may be sincere, but that didn’t make him right. “Rifles, Tom? Do you really think my dad would have agreed to rifles and working with the CIA?”

  “You’re keeping it between the lines, and that’s what he would have done.”