Logan said, 'Today's Saturday. Are we talking about tomorrow? That's not much time to stop this.'
'Tomorrow,'Jock said. 'We've got to move fast. I've alerted the FBI. Their counterterrorism force is working on it. Galls will have men at every church in Key West on Sunday. I don't know about Atlanta and Orlando. Too big. Too many churches.'
The phone on the table rang. Jock picked it up, listened, and hung up. He looked at me. 'Peggy's about to leave. She wants to see you.'
Galis stood up. 'I'll take you to her, Matt.'
I followed him out the door and down a hall to another small conference room. Peggy was there, dressed in slacks and a blouse. Another woman, a tall blonde in her mid-twenties, was with her.
Peggy stood and hugged me. 'Thanks for saving my life:'
I hugged back. 'You're worth saving. Laura told me so:'
'Come to Atlanta with me. Laura will want to see you:'
'How is she?'
'Bad. Very bad. Daddy said she perked up when he told her you found me, but she doesn't have long.'
'I can't leave right now, honey. We've got a big problem on our hands with Simmermon.'
'Matt, if you don't come now, you may not get to see her.'
I knew that, and I also knew that I wasn't needed in Key West. But I thought Jeff and Peggy and her sister, Gwen, should share what little time Laura had left. I'd long ago forfeited my right to those last precious hours of her life.
I kissed Peggy on the top of her head. 'Tell Laura I'm thinking of her.'
Peggy started to cry and wrapped her arms around me. 'Come see me in Athens, Matt. Promise me.'
'I will. Soon.'
Galls introduced me to the good-looking blonde. 'Matt, this is Deputy Karen Senkbeil. She's going to Atlanta with Peggy.'
We shook hands. 'Take care of my girl, Deputy,' I said. I turned and walked out the door, hurrying before I started crying. Paratroopers aren't supposed to do that. Not in public, anyway. Not even for Laura.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
I rejoined the meeting. Coffee had been delivered and each man had a mug in front of him. I poured myself one and sat down next to Logan.
Jock said, 'We've worked out a plan of sorts. Blood Island is secure, and Major Lockman is going to leave a platoon there to make sure it stays that way. He and the rest of his men are headed back to Hurlburt. I'm going to sweat Simmermon some more, and see if I can get something else out of him. We're also going to be interrogating the other people from the island. Maybe somebody heard something or knows something.'
'What about other governmental agencies?' I asked.
'The FBI is on it, and because of the explosives, ATF is joining them. The president is being briefed, and if we can't stop the bastards, he'll be prepared to make a statement to the nation on Sunday evening, explaining what happened.'
'Not a great plan.'
Jock looked at me. 'No, it's not,' he said, 'but unless you've got a better one, I don't know what else to do.'
'How do Logan and I fit into this?'
'You don't, officially.'
'Unofficially?'
'I'd like for you to go to Orlando today. Make contact with your buddy at the U.S. Attorney's Office. He'll be expecting you. He's been told that you'll be coordinating our efforts up there and acting as liaison with me:'
'That sounds pretty official.'
'There'll be no record of it. Parrish knows that.'
David Parrish was the chief assistant U.S. attorney for the Middle District of Florida. He'd been my law school classmate and good friend for many years. We'd worked together before.
'Okay,' I said. 'Can Logan take my boat back to Longboat Key?'
'No. The Coasties will take care of your boat. I want Logan to go with you. You'll be met at the airport by one of our men. He'll drive you to Parrish's office and leave you a car. Check in with me when you get there.'
'What about the people I'm holding?'
Galls stirred. 'I'd like to have them in custody,' he said.
Jock looked at me. 'How quick can you get them here?'
'Pretty quick. But I've got to go get them.'
I called Mendosa's number again and waited for the callback. It came quickly.
'I need to pick up my people and deliver them to the cops,' I said. 'If it's all right with Mr. Mendosa, I'll drive out and pick them up. Nobody has to know where they've been.'
'Hold on.'
I waited.
He was back on the line. 'Mr. Mendosa said to come on out.'
Logan and I took a government car and drove back out U.S. 1, taking the turnoff on Big Coppitt Key. The garage door opened as I pulled into the driveway. A space was waiting for me. I pulled in, and the door slid closed. A man was standing at the doorway leading into the house. He waved Logan and me in.
Our three guests were standing in the kitchen, hands cuffed behind them, blindfolds over their eyes, their mouths gagged. Nothing was said by anyone.
We guided the three into the backseat of the car, and I backed out of the garage. We returned to the Coast Guard station on Trumbo Road and turned them over to Detective Galls.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Orlando. My old hometown. It was a city that lived up to its nickname, 'The City Beautiful.' It was dotted with over a hundred named lakes, and its suburbs had many more. It was a city of gracious homes and tall office buildings. Condos were sprouting downtown and the city center was a vibrant place to be on a weekday. On this Saturday, it was quiet.
'I'll leave the car for you,' said our driver, tossing the keys to me. 'Somebody will pick me up in a few minutes.'
He'd parked in the public lot beneath 1–4, across the street from the federal courthouse in downtown. 'Better leave your weapons in the car,' he said.
Logan and I had flown up from Key West in a business jet owned by some federal agency. We didn't have to surrender our weapons. Each of us had a nine millimeter, and I still had a dive knife strapped to my ankle.
Before we left Key West, jock had dispatched a Coastie to retrieve my dive gear from the surfer guy who ran the shop. It would be stashed aboard Recess.
A Coastie had directed us to an area where we could shower and shave. Logan and I were both dead tired. We hadn't slept since we took the naps while anchored at Boot Key the afternoon before. We grabbed a couple of hours of sleep, and then dressed in new clothes provided by a grateful government. We both were wearing slacks and golf shirts, with light windbreakers to hide our pistols.
We landed at Orlando Executive Airport shortly before noon, met our escort, and were driven to the courthouse.
We left our weapons in the trunk of the government sedan, cleared courthouse security, and were escorted to David Parrish's office. He was waiting for us, a big blond man whose hair was now mostly gray, a slight paunch hanging precariously over his belt.
