Enigma Jewels

Prologue – Saturday Night in Puerto Rico

In the corner of the dimly lit San Juan drinking establishment, Julian Lafluer’s eyes widened as he read the caption on the breaking news story on the giant television screen.

AUTHORITIES SEIZE A PRIVATE PLANE AT Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport CONNECTED TO A POSSIBLE HUMAN SMUGGLING OPERATION. MORE TO FOLLOW.

“Crap!” Julian growled, tugging Ryu’s sleeve. He inclined his chin so his bodyguard would read the screen. “Let’s go. Now,” he hissed, looking around at the bored bartender smoking at the far end of the bar and the local drunk slumped over his latest drink. He placed a few bills on the table as Ryu powered down their laptop. They quietly exited and then rushed to the car.

“You drive,” Julian snarled, getting into the passenger seat. “What a mess. I’ve lost the girls. Head toward the hottest teens’ hangout.”

Ryu nodded and maneuvered the Tahoe to the side of the downtown area where kids hung out. “What are you thinking, Boss?”

“First, you’ll stop when I tell you to. Then you’ll find an old vehicle you can hotwire on the poor side of town. Switch its plates with another vehicle at least a block away. Tomorrow is Sunday, so folks will stay home to rest. Then come pick me up, and we’ll head to the other side of the island.”

“Yes. I can do that. I hate to leave you alone.”

Ryu drove for a few minutes toward the newer side of town, where sounds from boom boxes permeated the vehicle. Turning right, he noted the lit porches with cushioned chairs, a couple of shiny bicycles, and people visible through open windows. He scanned the area, seeing exactly what he’d hoped to find. “There’s my target. Perfect. Make a right at the corner, then head a few blocks over. I think there are some older homes two blocks east.” They passed a convenience store. “Pull over. I’ll meet you outside this store within the hour. I’ll keep my briefcase. You take everything else.”

Ryu pulled over and got out, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll find us a ride.”

Julian got into the driver's seat and headed back to negotiate with young men who always had big egos. He grinned as he rehearsed his pitch to the unsuspecting punks.

Chapter 1 – Ride Share

An hour later, flashing lights and screaming sirens pierced San Juan’s Saturday night. The cop dropped his car into gear, speeding after the black SUV after it squealed past. The officer shook his head. “Jerk!” he said, realizing the chase was on when the culprit surged forward and took a radical right at the next corner. He notified headquarters and then focused on the pursuit.

Being a seasoned pro, the officer laughed, closing the distance and pulling onto the left side of the Tahoe. The driver jerked the wheel to the right to evade him and clipped the curb. He overcorrected and then braked to miss the police car. Losing control, the car careened into a commercial trash container, pushing several feet with a crumpled front end.

The officer pulled his car to a stop and jumped out with his revolver drawn. He clicked his shoulder radio with his current status as he rushed to the driver’s door and tapped the gun's muzzle on the window. Carefully minimizing his body exposure, recalling his fellow officer from a few months ago shot in the gut pulling over a taillight violation.

“Get out of the car. Keep your hands up,” he shouted, squinting through the tinted window.

Moments ticked by before the heavy SUV door creaked open. “Don’t shoot,” the young male voice cracked. “I’m hurt and can’t open the door any wider. I’m not armed. Can you help, please?”

Sensing fear, not animosity, with the request, the officer kept his weapon level as he grabbed the door with his left hand and opened it. Surprised at seeing a young teen, he rolled his eyes. “Kid, who are you? This vehicle is registered to Julian Lafluer, not a punk teenager. Why didn’t you stop when you realized I was behind you? The lights were flashing.”

Struggling out of the SUV, the teenager moaned when the officer pulled him over and then made him face the vehicle.

“My parents are going to kill me.” The teen fumbled with shaking fingers to get his wallet from his back pocket.

“I’m sure your folks will enjoy visiting you in jail. I’m locking you up unless you start answering my questions. Who are you?”

“Alan Beacon. I’m not even eighteen. You can’t put me in jail.”

“There, you’re wrong, son. I can hold you in a cell for hours. Start talking. This vehicle is wanted in connection with a serious crime. Why are you driving it around like a bat out of hell?”

Tears streamed down his cheeks while the teen spilled his guts. “Honest, Officer, some dude pulled up to my friends and me. He flashed some cash and said there could be more if one of us volunteered to tear around the city fast. He said to meet him at noon tomorrow at the Tiki Bar by the waterfront in San Juan to get the money. I was the dumb ass who let him walk away carrying his briefcase.”

The officer clicked on the handcuffs. “Didn’t you think something was wrong with racing around the streets? You’re lucky you didn’t kill someone or yourself.”

The sniveling teen winced. “He laughed, saying only a man would take his dare. I couldn’t resist the hundred bucks. There’s a girl I wanted to take out next Friday.”

“Describe the guy, and why did you notice the briefcase?”

"He was older, with greying blonde hair and a French accent, and smelled of cigarettes. He said he made a bet he could get someone to drive it around on a dare. The briefcase was camel-colored leather, like my dad’s. He put the cash inside when I agreed to the deal.”

“Where was he headed?”

“He said he was meeting up with his buddy at the San Juan Bay Marina. He told me to drive around for an hour and then park the car at the bar. He’d meet me there in the morning with the bonus cash.”

The officer spun the kid around by the arm and pulled him toward his patrol car. He opened the back door, helped him in, then shut the door. He tapped his radio and transmitted the facts he’d learned, annoyed at missing the expected tag.

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JJ Rodreguiz ran his hand through his black hair in frustration as he glanced around his screens inside the CATS team’s headquarters office in Luxembourg. He clicked the contact on his laptop to join the video call. “Gracie, I know it’s late. Are you still at your office in Manhattan?”

“No, I left the World Bank a few hours ago. I’ve been reading some of your reports. It appears you’re getting close.”

Grateful, his twin sister was familiar with the current situation. The lights above her head highlighted the healthy shine of her blonde hair, reminding him they were not identical in appearance.

“We had a lead, but Julian Lafluer escaped while the targeted plane was stopped. Judith and Xiamara are safe and secure. Two of Julian’s people are being questioned. We’re trying to get his possible location to provide to authorities.”

“JJ, my team has eyes on San Juan, looking for the cryptocurrency parasite we introduced into Mateo’s organization to track him when we discovered his human trafficking and drug business. With Mateo dead, we expect to find activity directly from Lafluer since he was Mateo's accounting money man. Your group engineered the bogus hosting infrastructure that allowed us to seize and copy Mateo’s records. We know Julian and Mateo had business dealings, but there could be more between them.”

JJ chuckled. “I wish I’d seen the astonished, we’re screwed look on his face when he tried to demo the system to Mateo. At least Mateo is no longer a problem, but Julian needs to be found.”

As was her habit, she shook her hair back from her shoulders. “The authorities saw no trace of him at the airport,” she offered. “They’re trying to determine where he might have gone. According to the authorities who interviewed them, his compound was deserted except for several local groundskeepers who are devoted to Lafluer. I’m not sure how we can find him, dear brother.”

“He’s on the island. The authorities have the airports under guard. No one’s going to airlift him out. That only leaves a charter boat service. The team is running down those leads. We didn’t get his crypto when we searched the cloud data. He must have it in other wallets. If we’re tracking the right ones, maybe we’ll be lucky. Since we haven’t analyzed the accounting records yet, we don’t know how much cash he has. He appears to favor cryptocurrencies, so we hope to see the infected crypto we introduced as he tries to exit the island. It is doubtful he’d risk staying there.” JJ heard her tapping her pen on the work surface. They had evidence of his lavish homes on two Caribbean islands but suspected there could be others. The guy seemed to live large.

“Whenever we think we have these jerks ready for gift-wrapping with a bow, JJ, we find an empty box. He and his lieutenant must know someone is on to them. Either that or he is innately cautious. They’re changing their patterns. Did you start backtracking to Saint Kitts, where we got the first blip on the beaconing signal?”

“That's a good idea. I can do some digging there. We might locate something. His best option is to set up shop somewhere else. A smart, black-hearted rabbit always has another exit to the burrow. Gracie, can you have JW and the team hunt for other properties in the Caribbean that he owns or has access to?”

Gracie smirked. “Yep. We’d do better if we had an idea of his aliases. The man is too careful not to have other names that he works under.”

JJ chuckled. “True. Don’t be surprised if he used other identities to arrange safe houses to flee to at a moment’s notice. After all, one of his resumé highlights is identity theft.”

Gracie groaned. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“That’s what our R-Group and CATS team does best, dear sister.”

Gracie smiled. “How are Judith and Xiamara doing after we secured them from the plane? You sent a message that Brayson was ready to return to Luxemburg, but Marian wanted some downtime for him to recover. She was probably more scared of losing him than she let on.” She sighed, understanding Marian’s feelings. “Are you still in Europe, too?”

“Yes, I don’t plan to return to Brazil for a week or so. Judith and Zee are under observation by the doctors until tomorrow.” He frowned and let out a frustrated-sounding breath. They weren’t pleased to hear Julian escaped and wanted to help search the islands. I asked them to return here. I’d rather they work from here for the time being.”

“Good. They are tough ladies and good team members.”

“Yep, we’re lucky, Sis. I’m going to get some rest. I’ll check in with Brayson in the morning.”

Chapter 2 – Short-Term Reprieve

“Ryu, how much more of this evasive action are we taking?” Julian fisted his palm with his right hand while staring intently at the bodyguard’s square chin, grateful to have this tough, intelligent, devoted man beside him. “I’m glad you had us change to the black jeans and tee-shirts. It’ll make us harder to spot in the shadows.” Julian combed his longish blond hair with his fingertips, then insisted, “I told you we need to head to Sint Maarten.” His French accent grew more pronounced when he couldn’t control a situation.

“I know, sir. You also said we shouldn’t get caught. I am trying to make sure we can’t be tracked. This old Chevy isn’t as fast as your Tahoe, but we can reach San Juan Bay to buy passage on a trawler before authorities connect the dots.”

Julian frowned with tightened lips. “You’re right. We must find a way off this island.” He pulled his laptop from his case, powered it on, and then tried logging in. “Hey, pull into the next bank parking lot. I must secure a quick Wi-Fi connection and do a fast ATM transaction.”

Moments later, Ryu located a bank without deviating from his route. He watched Julian complete his keyboard activity and input the keystrokes required for the ATM withdrawal. Reaching through the window, he secured the wad of cash and handed it to his boss.

“I need one other withdrawal, then we can go.”

Ryu completed the instructions as directed and passed the additional U.S. currency to his right.

“Perfect, let’s go.”

Ryu shifted the Chevy into gear and sped toward the marina.

“When I phoned my buddy, he said two fishing boats were in the harbor. We should be able to buy our passage on one called Ruby’s Slipper. This captain is known for keeping a secret for a price.”

“Good, we have cash. I have access to our funds. You can protect me. Let’s get off Puerto Rico as quickly as possible. I still don’t understand how they found out about the transport. They must have tapped our calls. Thank goodness I have a couple of burners to use.”

“I’m glad you taught me long ago, Julian, to have backup plans.”

Dark settled over the area as Ryu pulled into the far side of the parking lot. The night sky crackled with lightning and thunder, promising a heavy storm was approaching the island. Julian thought it would provide cover for their escape.

They located the Ruby’s Slipper tied to the end of the pier. Julian saw the grizzled captain chatting with the marina owner and walked toward the pair. When the marina owner returned to his shop, Julian approached the captain. He noted the dark, shaggy-haired man's baggy, stained pants and grey, full-sleeved, woven shirt. The man appeared to be over six feet, in well-worn dark boots. He inclined his head as he stated, “We’d like to purchase passage to Sint Maarten. We were told you liked fishing in those waters, Captain.”

Julian felt the man's once-over appraisal with distaste. The captain grinned, picking the last chunk of dinner with the worn toothpick from his teeth. “My name’s Shaughnessy, and you are?”

“I’m Jules, and this is Ryu.” Julian extended his hand, which the man enveloped in his massive, rough fist to shake from a show of strength.

“Nice to meet you. What takes you to Sint Maarten, Jules? Wouldn’t it be easier to fly?”

“Possibly.” Julian clasped his midsection. “I get airsick but somehow have no issues on the water.”

“I can take you. It’ll cost you a thousand U.S. each.”

Julian looked at Ryu, who shrugged.

“No problem.” Julian pulled a small wad of bills from his jeans pocket and counted out twenty Franklins. Only a few were left, so he added them as well. “Here, take it all. Consider it a tip for transporting us on such short notice.”

Shaughnessy grinned, showing his white teeth brightened by a streak of lightning. “Stow your stuff in the sacks in the cabin below.” He gestured toward the stairway. “You can rest there, too.” He looked into the sky. “Make yourselves at home while I check on the storm.”

Waves slapped the fishing trawler, driving it back against the dock buntings. Winds increased, making it hard to hear. Julian yelled, “This is the best you could do?”

Ryu shouted, “We weren’t safe at the airport, and if they knew your name, we would have been caught in the terminal. The only other option was a watercraft. This fishing trawler carries enough fuel to get to Sint Maarten by traveling around the storm.”

“What if this tub won’t go fast enough to outrun the storm?” Julian tamped down his fear with a couple of deep breaths.

Ryu fatalistically deadpanned, “We’ll probably drown.”

Julian laughed. “We’ve dodged every problem so far, thanks to you. I guess you’re right. This is our best chance.”

The pair stowed their gear. Julian watched Ryu cleverly block their spot by moving crates of supplies. Rain hammered the dock area, increasing with each flash of lightning and booming clap of thunder. Julian felt the warm raindrops drench his hair and head toward his toes. He shouted, “Can we tow that tied-up cigarette boat behind us as an insurance policy?”

Ryu wiped a hand across his face, clearing his eyes. “We could, but it would slow us down. We can slice through the waves faster to get around the storm, but we wouldn’t have enough fuel.”

“Where could it get us to?”

“The Virgin Islands, possibly.”

“Damn. I don’t have nearly the same connections in the British or U.S. Virgin Islands, but maybe as a waypoint to stop and refuel.”

“Sir, this boat isn’t elegant,” Ryu quipped, “but no one can trace it to you.”

Julian watched the captain approach. “Gentlemen, we aren’t going anywhere. This storm is massive. The Coast Guard issued orders to secure boats for twenty-four hours or until the storm passes. We’re safer here than out on those swells expected to exceed fifteen feet. It’s not a hurricane-class system, but still dangerous for this boat.”

“Shaughnessy, I paid you for room, board, and discretion.”

“That you did, Jules. But not enough for me to risk death on a fool’s errand. There are slickers in the hold if you need them. I’ll fix us some grub after securing the ropes for the night.”

Julian nodded.