The Coast

By Tom Doherty

On a seemingly typical vacation Bob Connell's life is thrown into turmoil after his wife disappears and he is accused of her murder. As he tries to determine why and how his wife disappeared he learns that his childhood friend is involved with drug smuggling. Not able to confide in either his childhood friend or the police, he is determined to prove his innocence and solve the mystery of his wife's disappearance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tom Doherty
• Release date: Aug 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310276231

Tom Doherty

I am an engineer and live in Maryland with my wife and daughter. I also have a son who is currently serving in the Army as an EOD specialist. My first novel was written from ideas and experiences I have had working as an engineer both directly employed with an intelligence agency and working as a contractor to the intelligence and defense communities. I started this odyssey in 1996. After being laid off in 2011, I spent a year living apart from my wife and children. During this time I finished what I had started many years ago.

Book preview

Prologue

Excuse me, I was in line before you, said the man in the cowboy boots.

The fat man looked at him sideways and continued to talk with his girlfriend.

I said that I was in line before you, the man with the cowboy boots repeated.

The fat man replied, Look Bud, I trying to buy some popcorn for me and my girlfriend before the movie starts. But if you insist, I’ll be the good citizen I should and let obnoxious people like you go first.

The man in the cowboy boots stared at the fat man for a few seconds and then placed his order at the counter. As he turned and walked back to his friends he heard the fat man say under his breath, Asshole.

If there was any hesitation in the man with the cowboy boots, it was imperceptible.

Can you believe that guy? the fat man said to his girlfriend, You try and have a nice quiet evening and you end up having to deal with assholes.

You are kind of pushy, Walter his girlfriend said. He was in line before you.

He’ll get over it. I know that type. They’ll avoid any type of confrontation. Let’s forget about him and concentrate on what we’ll be doing after the movie, at my place? he said as he pulled the woman closer to him.

The man with the cowboy boots walked up to a group of men that were waiting for him. As he got to them he simply said, Take that guy and his girlfriend out., walked in, and enjoyed the movie.

After the movie ended, Walter and his girlfriend got in their car and pulled out of the parking lot. Had Walter been paying attention to what went on around him he might have seen the four cars that were following them.

Did you find out where he lives? asked the driver in the lead car to the man sitting next to him.

I got the address from the looking up the license plate number. came the reply. He lives in that gated country club community about 25 miles south of town.

The caravan drove through the hilly countryside that lay between Denver and Colorado Springs. As Walter and his girlfriend rounded a sharp curve on the two-lane road, a stalled truck in the road stopped them.

Can’t you jerks get that thing out of the way? yelled Walter out his window.

Walter failed to see the two cars pull up behind him, completely blocking his car. To his right the hill rose sharply, to his left there was a fifty-foot drop.

Before Walter could close his window, a large hand reached in and grabbed him by the throat while another hand reached in and opened the door. Walter was unceremoniously dragged from the car. At the same time Walter’s girlfriend was pulled viciously from the passenger’s side of the car.

You should think twice before you insult people you don’t know. The guy at the movie theatre that you insulted doesn’t take to insults very well. He wants to make sure that you’ll be able to think about it for the rest of your life.

Walter tried to struggle free but the two men holding him held on easily.

One man walked up to Walter with a steering wheel out of a car.

The first thing we do is to make sure you will not be able to speak for the rest of your life. I’ll use this steering wheel and hit you in the throat. This is what doctors call a blunt trauma to the larynx causing vocal cord scarring. We’ve killed several people until we learned how to do this where you will just lose your voice and not die.

While the two men held Walter, a third man grabbed Walter’s hair and pulled his head back. The man with the steering wheel took almost a baseball swing and hit Walter in the throat.

Walter could barely breathe. When he tried to scream all that came out was a sick croak.

The man with the steering wheel continued, We’ve also learned where and how to hit a person so they permanently lose their sight without suffering too much loss of brain function.

Again the man took a baseball like swing at Walter’s head and hit Walter with amazing accuracy and put Walter into a world of complete and permanent darkness.

You see, the man you insulted is the head of the world’s largest drug cartel. Over the years he has learned to deal with rivals and anyone who even remotely threatens him. He uses people like you to send a message to his enemies and to the people around him what can happen if they go against him. With you he feels vindicated from the insults and also sends a message of what he will do. You will be blind, will not be able to speak, and will not be able to move for the rest of your life. Our boss feels that if we kill you, you would be getting off easy. So you will spend the rest of your life totally dependent on others and not being able to communicate with anyone.

While the man was speaking, someone else placed a metal sawhorse behind Walter. The two men holding Walter suddenly picked him up over their heads like they were working with free weights. They then dropped him onto the sawhorse directly on his back causing Walter’s spine to snap in two.

Before you put him back in the car make sure you inject the alcohol into him so he registers as drunk in a toxicology test.

Walter’s girlfriend watched in horror.

Don’t worry Sister, your fate will be much quicker.

The man who had the steering wheel walked away and came back with a piece of an automobile windshield.

Our boss doesn’t like to have people walking around who can identify us and inform the authorities on what we’ve done. Your friend won’t be able to speak or write so we don’t have to worry about him. You we have to worry about

With that the man took the windshield and hit the girl on the head.

Before they put the girl back on the passenger’s seat, someone took a bowling ball and hit the inside of the car’s windshield, at about the spot that a head would have hit it if the person was not wearing a seat belt.

Walter and his girlfriend where put back in their car, the men pushed the car over to the edge of the road and over the drop-off.

At the hospital the attending doctor came out and spoke with the detective.

The fat guy will live. He hit his head and throat on the steering wheel. He won’t be able to see or speak ever again. The crash also severed his spinal cord. He’ll have some movement in his head, but that’s about it. His girlfriend is a different story. Her head hit the windshield. Killed her instantly.

He’ll be a ward of the state the detective replied. At first we thought this was a typical driving under the influence case. When they searched his car they found clothing of those young girls that have been missing. The girls can’t remember who kidnapped them but we found them unharmed. We also found several boxes with pictures of naked boys and girls. This guy was a predator and a pedophile. We can’t prosecute him since he can’t communicate with anyone, but I can tell you he won’t get the best of treatment. The guy that heads up the ward he’ll be in lost one of his kids to this type of monster.

The press was already here taking pictures the doctor said.

Yeah, I’ve got to tell them everything about this guy. It’ll be in the morning paper.

Chapter 1

The moon was throwing glistening arrows along the surface of the water. The small waves caused by the gentle breeze coming off of the Gulf of Mexico were quietly lapping against the side of the boat. The only other sound was the occasional mosquito that was buzzing around the fisherman’s head.

He looked at the luminous hands on his watch. Two thirty in the morning. It would be nice, he thought to himself, to have a job where he could work during the day like the rest of world, but it pays the bills.

Most of the other fishermen that were left were running just about anything other than fish. Drugs mostly. But he continued to bring in fish. With a few other ventures thrown in just to make sure all of the bills were paid.

He watched out towards the open water. Should be here any minute, he thought. He could hear fish striking the water not too far from the boat.

This used to be simple, he thought. Not too long ago all you had to do was go to a spot where you could see the small coastal ships that would appear to slip down the coast under the cover of darkness. To anyone who happened to be wandering along the beaches of the many small islands along the southwest Florida coast, enjoying the quiet of the night with only the waves washing up on the still warm, soft sand, they may imagine the romance of being a sailor on the ship heading to some distant exotic port of call. The cargo the ships carried would be the sort of treasure that early sailing vessels carried, tons of gold bullion or rare silk cloth being transported to the rich and royal.

Not anymore. Now the tramp steamers where all but gone. Any of the ships that looked like the relics of the past looked like they should be at the bottom of the ocean rather than carrying priceless treasures.

The cargo ships that run up and down the Florida coast are part of the transportation of cocaine and heroin that is transiting to the northeastern United States and Canada. With over eight thousand miles of coastline, the shores of the Gulf of Mexico provide the perfect opportunity and unlimited access to use practically any type of water vessel.

In the past you could sit in the lee of an idyllic palm tree enjoying a hot cup of coffee poured from a thermos while you waited to see the indescript signal. Those days were also gone. Now, even the underworld of drugs, human, or weapon smuggling relied more and more on some of the very technology that was developed to combat these businesses. In addition to the typical technology such as GPS, radar, and encrypted radios, smugglers had advanced to using such things as mini-subs.

Guard 25018, this is Kodiak Island, crackled over the radio interrupting his thoughts. 1 mile out, ETA in 10 minutes. This would be his only indication that the drop would take place. Only one time did he miss the rendezvous. He felt lucky to have escaped with his life. If you weren’t there, they would find you. And with him, they did. The meeting was reminiscent to the days when loan sharks would send their goons to break someone’s legs. Only these guys wouldn’t stop with your legs. They would leave you with a reminder for the rest of your life. In extreme cases they would make you watch as they harmed or killed someone close to you. If you were fortunate you would end up with only a few scars.

He entered in the GPS coordinates into his GPS unit. All of the couriers were threatened not to enter in the coordinates until the last second. This was learned after one of the units had been intercepted by the DEA before a drop. The smugglers had an unwelcome surprise when they were met by the DEA rather than the courier they had expected.

His boat was fast and he quickly covered the mile of open water in just a few minutes. Neither his boat nor the ship he was meeting had any running lights. When he had just under a hundred yards to go he cut the power and moved his boat to the seaward side of the ship so he would be blocked by any one watching from shore.

Hey, John he called out as he approached the stairs that had been lowered from the ship.

How ya doin’, Sonny? Right on time, as usual John looked like anything other than a drug smuggler. Most people took him for a junior executive with a prosperous financial firm. John always made sure he dressed the part.

What have you got for me this time? Sonny asked.

The usual delivery plus a little extra.

What’s the little extra? This won’t put me at any greater risk of attracting attention from the police will it?

No, nothing like that. The bosses are starting to branch out their business. With the world in the shape it’s in now they feel there’s a lot of other opportunities. The extra is their way of testing the waters on getting people and weapons in and out of the country.

Like Hell you say! Drugs are risky enough. Now you want me to haul illegals fresh off the boat? And weapons?

Relax. The people or as we’ve begun calling them business associates are far from the immigrants that come into this country looking for work in the fields so they can support their families back home. These people will most likely know more about how our country works than you do. Besides, I don’t think you have any choice in this. I won’t threaten you, but you know the score and the consequences of not following orders.

I don’t like it, but you’re right, what choice do I have? Sonny retorted. Sonny knew all to well the consequences. He knew of several guys who did what he did and had refused to follow what they had been told to do. He shuddered inwardly thinking of his family, friends and what may happen to them if he didn’t do as he was told.

John continued, At least you understand. And if you are successful in keeping these operations from being discovered you will be rewarded handsomely. If you thought you were doing well financially just running drugs, you haven’t seen the tip of the iceberg. We’ve even started thinking of escape clauses so you’ll be able to retire in style.

While Sonny and John were having their conversation, workers had loaded Sonny’s boat, hiding the drugs under the nets in the back. They had become very efficient over the years.

Another person materialized out of the shadows and moved next to John. Sonny could only guess that this was the extra that John had referred to. In many ways he felt somewhat relieved as he began thinking that there would be only one person to take back to shore with him.

Sonny, I would like to introduce you to Nassir Amir Shahidi. At least, that’s who we know him as and that’s what all of his official documents say. Your extra task is to take him to the old docks of Boca Grande.

As John was talking Shahidi made his way down the ladder to Sonny’s boat. Sonny couldn’t help but noticed that Shahidi moved with the grace of a cat. If he hadn’t been watching him come down the ladder he would have never known that someone was there. A slight chill went through Sonny as he suddenly realized that this was not what was considered to be a typical illegal sneaking into the United States.

John added to the chill when he added, And I wouldn’t ask Mr. Shahidi any questions. You may ask him a question that he doesn’t want you to hear the answer. I will tell you that he has a background of being a fighter.

A fighter? What, like a middle weight or something? Sonny asked.

No, as in Al Qaeda or something. Cast off the boat and let’s get under way. I don’t want some lousy tourist out night fishing to stumble across us thinking we need any help. John’s tone was ominous as he continued, You know how messy it gets trying to hide all of the bodies and evidence on an unplanned clean-up.

Sonny took John’s advice and didn’t ask any questions on the forty five minute trip to the old docks. These docks were more remnants and underwater hazards then actual docks. In the late 1800’s phosphate rock was discovered just inland from Gasparilla Island on Florida’s west coast, west of Fort Myers. Phosphate became in great demand all over the world to be used in fertilizers and hundreds of other products. In the early 1910’s more mines opened in south Florida. Docks were then built to allow the ships to be loaded directly rather than using barges as they had been for the past twenty years.

In recent times numerous boats had found themselves running into the darkened docks that still extended into Boca Grande Pass. Because of these accidents the State of Florida had been installing lights on the docks to alert boaters. But due to the sudden and sometimes severe storms that occur, the state constantly had to repair or replace the lights.

Fortunately for Sonny the lights were not on. Somehow he knew that this was not a pure coincidence.

He slowed the boat down to minimize the noise of the engine. He didn’t know what to expect. In his mind he had the impression that this would be similar to what he would see in a movie. Someone on the shore would flash a light in a predetermined pattern indicating that the coast, literally, was clear. But there was nothing. He brought his boat in until he hit bottom and couldn’t go any further without destroying the propeller.

Shahidi stepped off of the boat and without a word walked ashore. And like a wraith in the night, he disappeared.

Your welcome. Sonny muttered quietly to himself as he backed the boat into deeper water. There was great relief when he made contact with the men who take the drugs off of the boat and were the beginning of the giant and complex illegal drug distribution network that extends through out the United States. He never mentioned why he was later that usual and no questions were asked.

As the sun was rising, Sonny took his boat back to his own dockage and secured everything so it would be ready for his next run.

As he drove home he was lost deep in thought. Tonight was much more than he had ever bargained for. In the beginning it was running drugs a couple of times a year as he was needed. Within the past year they had started having him do the runs more often, sometimes two or three times a week. He was getting in too deep. He now knew that he had very few choices if he, along with his family, wanted to get out of this alive.

Chapter 2

The room looked like any corporate conference room found all over the world. Thick, plush carpet was on the floor, rich wood furniture, original paintings and sculptures were placed tastefully around the room.

Meetings that were held in this room did not have the same agendas found in the corporate world with the exception to make a profit for those who gathered here. The amount of money that was controlled by the men in this room was more than an evolving nation could dream of. Billions of dollars, along with the lives of thousands of people were controlled by these men.

At the top of this group one man was the undisputed leader. He was the leader partially because of his business acumen, but also because of his ruthlessness. Attempts had been made to wrest his control away. Those who had tried to overthrow him were met with long torturous deaths. They were not only physically murdered but also mentally murdered and demoralized.

Joaquin Tex Restrepo Botero had studied at the best business school in the United States. During his time in school he immersed himself into all of the real-world challenges that were presented to him in his classes. He also had a personal and professional transformation since he was exposed to a diverse community of students and professors which allowed him to learn of the talents, beliefs and