Crystal Blue (Buck Reilly Adventure Series Book 3) by John Cunningham (novels for beginners txt) 📕
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- Author: John Cunningham
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“I don’t—man, I’m not—”
Diego leaned down and pressed his Kimber .45 into Baldy’s forehead.
“Sons of bitches killed Spice, now talk!”
A small wail escaped Baldy’s lips.
“All right all right, yeah, I picked him up, man, you know—but that was it. It was just a ride, I don’t know nothing—”
“Where’d you take him?” I said.
Baldy cleared his throat. A shiver rocked him.
“Some dudes, man, paid me cash—they found me at Marina Cay that day—then they met me between St. John and Tortola that night, man, that’s it.”
I took his shoulders in my hands, gripped them hard.
“What do you mean, that’s it? What’s it?”
“They gave me the money and I gave them the dude—he was drunk and didn’t know shit, thought I was his ride or something—”
“Who were the people that hired you?”
“Fuck man, I don’t know—”
Diego pressed his gun against Baldy’s head.
“Locals? White? Black?”
“White dudes, man, funny accents and shit. Paid me cash, in Euros—”
“Were they Russian accents?” I still had him by the shoulders. “What kind of boat were they in?”
“I don’t know, man, serious—the boat?” His eyes rolled. “Blue, sleek little bitch. Fancy, you know? Nice wood and shit—”
I shook Baldy’s shoulders and he refocused on my face.
“How big was the boat?” I said. “Did it have a name?”
“Blue boat…pretty, man. Name?” He paused. “Ah, yeah, some kind of foreign name I think, like that soda drink, I don’t know—”
I shook him again. “What was the name?”
“I’m not—ah, what was it? Something like that soda—Not Pepsi, you know? Like Shasta, or something—”
Shasta? Why does that—
A bolt of lighting erupted inside my head and I leapt to my feet.
“Shashka!”
Baldy held a hand up in front of his face, the moon over my shoulder all but blinding him as he looked up at me.
“Yeah, that’s it, man.”
I rubbed my hands over my face. Several days of beard dug into my palms. I pictured the speedboat leaving Jost Van Dyke when Valentine arrived, the fat man looking back toward shore, and finally realized who it was. The boat he was on was the same color as the Shaska, too.
“You figure something out?” Boom-Boom said.
“Afraid so,” I said.
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Diego said.
I spit sand from my mouth.
“Because it’s worse than I thought.”
Viktor Galey.
BACK IN VALENTINE’S CROWN VICTORIA, we raced toward the West End ferry dock. The air was thick, the air conditioning not much help.
“That big-ass boat?” Boom-Boom said.
“It’s called a yacht, young man,” Valentine said. “Big difference.”
My mind bounced back and forth as I pondered whether I should call in the Royal Virgin Island’s Police or Booth. I decided against it. I knew my favorite FBI agent had little or no pull in these islands, and I didn’t trust Bramble. There was maybe thirty minutes before the concert was scheduled to start.
Shashka. Even sounded Russian. I checked Crystal’s cell phone—a text from Harry Greenbaum: “Eat shit has no direct translation, but the spelling you gave me, when checked phonetically, sounds close to ischezat in Russian, which means ‘to disappear.’ Does that help?”
Unfortunately it did.
“I’m used to taking risks, man, but this is crazy,” Diego said.
“Gotta be a bunch of guns on there,” Boom-Boom said, “we’ll need to be super stealth. Maybe they got some of our men hostage too.”
Diego shook his head. “Ain’t nothing left to lose at this point.”
“We’ll have the element of surprise,” I said.
“You some kind of James Bond or something, brudda?”
I shook my head. “Just an adoptee trying to help these people change the world.”
Diego’s grimace-smile bent his lips. “I just want to kill some Russkies.”
We drove in silence down the dark, winding road. As we began the descent from the hillside toward West End, I again reached for the nearly dead cell phone.
“Buck, that you?” Ray said.
“Things about to get started there?”
“Pretty soon. It’s insane.”
“We have a pretty good idea where John Thedford’s being held, if he’s still alive.”
Silence on the other side of the phone made me check the battery. A red light blinked.
“Ray, you still there?”
“Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“How’s Crystal?”
“Haven’t seen her—she’s locked up in Scarlet’s room. Your friend Special Agent Booth’s running around like Mother Hen, forcing himself on the talent with promises to protect them. He’ll be glad to get your news—”
“Keep him out of it.”
Again the silence.
“I need you and Lenny to be ready to head this way in the Beast—”
“What about the contraband?”
“Forget that!” I paused and looked at the others in the car, all of whom were staring at me. “Listen, I don’t know what we’re going to do yet, but we’re going to find some way to get on that boat and rescue Thedford.”
“And fuck up some Russians,” Boom-Boom said.
“What boat?” Ray said.
“The big blue yacht that’s been back and forth between St. Thomas and Tortola all week. My guess is it’s owned by Viktor Galey, who must be connected to the cartel that started the gang war—”
“Russian cartel?” His voice climbed a couple octaves. “You and what army?”
I glanced back at my cohorts. “Suicide Squad, Virgin Islands division.”
Diego rolled his eyes.
I explained to Ray where the yacht was, told him to grab Lenny and anyone they could rally who could get there quick aside from Booth and the local police.
“We’ll need the help.”
“You’re crazy, Buck!”
“So I’ve been told—” The phone emitted a series of quick beeps. “Ray? The battery’s dying—”
Silence.
“Ray?”
Dead.
I asked Valentine for his charger but it didn’t fit Crystal’s phone.
“So what makes you so sure they on that yacht, man?” Diego said.
I told them about seeing the speedboat leaving Jost Van Dyke long before the start of the concert with Viktor Galey on board, a billionaire industrialist and a member of Crystal’s board.
“I’m not sure of his nationality, but he had an accent. And that blue color? I’m sure it matched. At least, I’m gambling on it.”
“We’re gambling on it,” Diego said.
“And if not, we crap out,” Boom-Boom said.
“Here’s the deal,” Diego said. “Any
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