Chapter 3 - “Hide and Seek”

Sparkling like liquid gold, the sun shone on the rippling waters of the Atlantic.  Tanya Dennison watched the play of the light on the sea over the top of a mug of coffee.  She heard a ringing from inside the cabin, followed by an excited exclamation from Marcus.

“What is it?” she called.

When there was no answer, she turned towards the doorway to find the young man coming out on deck, his open laptop in his hands.  “It’s so wonderful to have friends,” he said as he took a seat opposite her.  “Especially the kind that owe you money or favors.”

Tanya poured him a cup of coffee.  “Not that I disagree, but what’s the point of this?”

With a smile, Marcus slid the computer around to face Tanya.  On the screen played a short, four second loop of a grainy, black and white security video.  Tanya squinted, finally identifying the video as having been taken in a very crowded nightclub.  Marcus tapped a few buttons, freezing the image, then enhancing it.  Tanya gasped.

Captured in sharp black and white were their prey– Eric Umali and Mary Patire, apparently dancing the night away.

She looked up, eyes wide.  “Where and when was this taken?”

Marcus’ expression was pure triumph.  “At Bang in Miami on Saturday night.”

“Just two days old.  How did you come by this wonderful little bit of video?”

He took a sip of his coffee.  “You remember Pietro, the manager at Bang?”

“Of course I do– the man insures that we have such a wonderful time when we’re in Miami.”

“Then you also recall how he’s in our debt for having arranged that little shipment for him?”

“As I recall,” she said smiling, “it wasn’t so little.”

“True enough.  Anyway, while you were out shopping yesterday, I was busy e-mailing our contacts in all the possible destinations we decided on.  It seems Miss Patire and Mister Umali cut quite a rug that night– impressed a lot of the regulars.  Pietro remembered them quite well.”

“And so we’re on our way south?”

As if in reply, the yacht’s powerful engines fired up, and the boat surged forward, the sun rising high on its portside.  Marcus drew a silver flask from his pocket, poured a generous slug of amber liquid into his coffee cup, and leaned back with it.  “We should be there in eight hours.”

**********

A few hours later, at another table, staring at another beautiful patch of crystal clear ocean were another young man and woman.  Reaching up, Eric Umali adjusted the tilt on the wide striped beach umbrella above them, then finished off the remains of his brightly-colored drink.

“About time to move on,” he said.

Mary nodded, draining her own glass.  “Seems a shame, though.  It’s supposed to be this beautiful all week.”

“No sign of any trouble, but I don’t want to push our luck.”

“Me neither,” she agreed.

“So where to this time?”

“It’s your birthday tomorrow.  You should get to choose where to spend it.”

“Don’t remind me,” he replied, groaning.

She laughed.  “Aww, are we starting to feel a little old?”

Eric shifted in his beach chair, turning to face her.  “I thought the old jokes were _my_ territory.”

“Hey, I’ve got a birthday in a couple of months myself.”

“Oh, yeah– the big nineteen.”  He shook his head.  “You’re still just a kid.”

“And you’re gonna be a whole twenty-three.  Ooh, ancient,” she teased.  “Get over it.”

With an exaggerated groan, Eric rose.  “I’m heading back to the bar.  Do you want another drink?”

“Why Mister Umali, are you trying to get me drunk?”  Mary’s eyes went wide, feigning shock.

He smiled.  “I’ve seen you drunk, Doll.  No,” Eric replied, and got a swat on the arm for it.  He picked up her glass and headed for the beachside bar.

Mary leaned back and returned her attention to the thin lines of white foam cresting across the water.  After a few moments, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”  The voice was heavily shaded by a rich Cuban accent.

Mary looked up to see a dark-skinned young woman, wearing the beach club’s uniform.

“Yes?”

“Phone call for you,” she said, presenting Mary with a cellular phone.

Confusion crossed her features as she took the phone.  “Thank you,” she mumbled, and raised the device to her ear.  “Hello?” she said tentatively.

“Oh, good, we got through.”  The voice on the other end sounded clear, but distant.  It was a young woman’s voice.  “Do I have the pleasure of speaking to one Mary Patire?”

Her calm returned.  “I’m afraid you have the wrong number.”

“Oh, don’t be that way, Mary– there’s no reason we can’t carry on a civil conversation.”  The woman laughed.  “Despite the fact that we’re going to kill you.”

“Look, I don’t know who you are–“

“You’ll meet us very soon,” said a second voice.  It was a man this time, and the words were sure and definite rather than threatening.

Eric returned, a drink in each hand and a very worried frown.  He placed the drinks down, his eyes asking Mary just what the hell was going on.

Mary’s hand moved to cover the microphone, but the mysterious caller beat her to it.  “I assume by the delay in your reply that we’ve been joined by the fourth player in this little drama.”

*Whoever they are,* thought Mary, *they’re enjoying this a lot.*

The woman returned.  “Well, we just wanted you two to know that we’ll be in Miami in just a few hours.”

“So?”

“Enough playing dumb, Mary, it’s insulting.”

“Fine,” Mary replied sharply.  “If you’re really coming after us, why the warning?”

“To really be honest, it’s always the chase that’s so much more exciting than the finish.”

“The kill, you mean.”

She sighed.  “Whatever.  This call is just– what did you call it, honey?  Oh, yes– beating the bush.  Time to start running, dear.”

Mary smiled.  “Didn’t Frost tell you what we did to the last one?”

The other end was silent for a moment.

“You got lucky.”  The words were curt.

“I’m sure that’s what he was thinking sometime during those ten seconds between the forty-fifth floor and the basement.”  Mary snapped the phone closed.  There was a fire in her eyes when she turned to Eric.

“The new contestants?” he asked.

She nodded.  “A couple, by the sound of it.”

“Wonderful,” Eric mused, “a matched set.  Very convenient.  What did they say?”

“That they’re going to be in town in a couple of hours, and that they expected us to start running.”

“Do you believe them?”

“You mean are they not already in Miami?”  She thought it over.  “No, I think they were telling the truth.  This isn’t like Greenwald.  These two are in this strictly for kicks.”

“Then by all means,” Eric said, gesturing for Mary to stand, “let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”

Dropping a few dollars on the table as a tip, they headed back towards the street.  Eric looked around at the crowds walking on Ocean Drive and the clear blue skies above them.

“I’m gonna hate leaving this place,” he said.

Mary patted him on the shoulder.  “You hate leaving anywhere.  But, I know what you mean.”

“What do you say we go for a complete change of scene?”

“Where do you have in mind?”

Eric didn’t answer, but he did smile.

**********

Late that afternoon, the luxury yacht “T’s Pride” was settling into her slip in an exclusive Miami marina.  Marcus tapped his foot impatiently as he stood on the deck, while Tanya oversaw the tying of the mooring lines.  His cell phone rang, and he drew it from his pocket.

Tanya stepped up a few moments later as the deck hands began to lower the gangplank.  Marcus closed the phone, his face calm, but not happy.

“Who was it?” she asked.

“Pietro.  His tail on our little friends followed them as far as the airport, then lost them completely.”

Tanya was not pleased.  “Absolutely no idea where they went?”

“Once again, we’re down to whatever planes departed after they were last seen.”

“Assuming that they got on a plane at all, that is.”  She sighed.  “How’d they lose the guy?”

Marcus smiled.  “They had him arrested, just like in New York.”

“Clever.  I suppose we’ll just have to get the wheels turning again– wait for a lead to come up.”

“And in the meantime?”

“We enjoy ourselves, of course.”

“Of course.”

TO BE CONTINUED…