Lethal Diversion. Don Pendleton

much as I can,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ve got to get back, but I’ll call you later, okay?”

      “Of course,” he said, returning the kiss. His disgust at the public display of affection didn’t show on his face. He unlocked his car and got in. “Call if you need anything. Would it be all right if I increased security at the stadium?”

      Hart nodded. “Just do it quietly.”

      “I will,” he said. He started the engine, then drove away, quite satisfied. They knew very little and Hart was obviously very afraid. He could see it in her posture, her eyes, and hear it in her voice. Fear was a powerful weapon, too, and those who were scared didn’t make good decisions. It would serve his purposes quite well.

      4

      The flashing blue and red lights from various law-enforcement vehicles were nearly blinding as Bolan pulled to a stop and parked his car. He wanted a look at the boat, but he’d expected the area to have calmed down by this time. The notion that they were going to keep this situation under wraps was going to be pure fantasy if they didn’t scale things back quite a bit. He left his vehicle and flashed his DEA badge at the two county sheriff’s deputies that stood guard in front of the path down to the beach where the yacht had beached. They motioned him to pass on through without stopping him.

      He’d reached the rocky shore, noting the three body bags on the ground, and was contemplating whether to check the boat or the bodies first, when he was stopped by a tall, lanky man in a Coast Guard Chief’s uniform. “Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?”

      There was an open honesty to the man’s face that Bolan liked to see in law enforcement. “You must be Chief Cline. I’m Agent Matt Cooper. DEA. Denny Seles sent me your way,” he said.

      Chief Cline shook his hand and then a quick flash of recognition followed. “That’s right. I got a text from Seles that he might be sending over another set of eyes. What can I do to lend you a hand?”

      “Well, the first thing you can do is send about seventy-five percent of these people home or back to their regular patrol. And tell the others to turn off their emergency lights. All this is drawing way too much attention to the scene. I don’t know why Seles didn’t mention it before, except he’s a man with a lot on his mind.”

      Cline looked around, taking in the sight. Bolan knew that when someone was in the middle of something, it was hard to see it from the outside.

      “You’re right,” he said. “There are too many people here for a simple boat-run-aground scenario. I’ll start clearing them out immediately. What else?”

      “Have you learned anything new since Seles was here earlier?” he asked.

      The chief shook his head. “Not really. Our hazmat guys finished their piece just a little bit ago. We’ve got a crane and a semi trailer on the way to offload the container and take it to a secured warehouse. Then we’ll tow the boat itself to a secure docking area.”

      “A semi and a crane?” Bolan asked. “That’s about as inconspicuous as all these lights.”

      “Our options are limited. Seles wants the Feds to be able to examine the container separately,” Cline explained. “And the damn thing weighs a ton.”

      “He’s a by-the-book guy,” Bolan replied. “But this doesn’t make a bit of sense. Call off the crane and the trailer, have them meet you at the secured docks and offload the container there. The extra time that will take will be worth the extra security. Let’s not draw any more attention to the area than we have to.”

      “I agree with you, sir, but I’m going to need authorization from Agent Seles before I give that order.”

      “Call him and get it or I will, but just hold off the semi and crane until you do. Worst case, they’ve got to sit for a few minutes beside the road.”

      “I can do that,” he said. He pulled a phone from his belt and made the call for the incoming crane and semi to hold position. “Just get me the authorization, Agent Cooper. This is too serious for me to screw up.”

      “I understand,” Bolan said, his eyes moving to the body bags. “I’m surprised that they haven’t moved the victims. What’s taking the coroner so long with the bodies?”

      “They’re out on the ambulance in ten minutes or less,” he said. “We wanted to do a complete search to make sure the bodies weren’t carrying something harmful.”

      “Good call,” he said. “But if it’s all right, I’d like to take a quick look at them before the coroner removes them.”

      “Right this way,” he said.

      Each of the bodies was zipped into an individual black bag and the coroner was beginning to load the first one onto the stretcher.

      “Dr. Beaman,” the chief said as they stepped closer. “This is Agent Matt Cooper with the DEA. He’d like a moment to examine the bodies, please.”

      Beaman looked like a man out of patience and way too old for wandering along a cold, rocky beach in the middle of the night. “Young man, if you’re about to tell me that there has been yet another delay in getting these bodies back to the morgue I’m going to perform the autopsies right here and let the gulls have the carcasses.” The flustered doctor crossed his arms over his chest, huffed at Chief Cline and sent angry glances at Bolan, certain that he was the cause of his having to stay out in the cold.

      “No, sir,” Cline said. “At least, not for very long. Agent Cooper here just has a couple of questions for you.”

      “Well, there’s not much I can tell you yet. Two of the men appear to have died from gunshot wounds and the other was knifed, but I won’t have a lot more until I get them on my table.” Beaman looked pointedly at his watch.

      “I’d like to take a look,” Bolan said.

      The coroner sighed as he reached forward and unzipped the body bag and pulled it open to reveal the face of the first victim. Bolan was stunned when he recognized the face and it must have shown.

      “You know the guy?” Cline asked.

      “I’ll have to double-check my files, but I believe he’s a lower-level dealer that I’ve been looking for. Let me see the other two.”

      The coroner revealed the other two faces. Bolan took quick snapshots and thumbprints from each man with his handheld and sent them off to Brognola to begin the facial recognition and fingerprint ID process. The databases at Stony Man Farm were much larger and more detailed than anything that Seles would have access to.

      “When you get them on your slab we’re going to need pictures of any tattoos and scars right away and I’ll get my people working on it,” Bolan said. He handed Beaman a card with his number on it. “Send them digital to that number.”

      “Won’t Special Agent Seles’s men already be working on it?” Dr. Beaman asked.

      “My people are faster.”

      “I thought we were all one people working together?” the doctor quipped.

      “Sometimes I get to jump the line, that’s all,” Bolan said. “I won’t hold you up any longer, Doctor. You look like you’re ready to get out of the cold.”

      “That’s the best news I’ve heard all night.” Dr. Beaman turned to his two assistants. “Load them up and let’s get going. We’ve got a lot yet to do.”

      Bolan and the chief stepped away as they loaded the bodies. Bolan took a quick look around the ship, but nothing else jumped out at him. It was an expensive piece of work, though, and that meant somebody had paid someone else to do it. He’d be sure to mention it to Brognola as a possible information angle. The money trail was sometimes the easiest one to follow.

      “You really did know that kid?” the chief asked. “What a shame.