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“Would you bless us?”
“Ah.” He reached into his vest pocket and took out a card, handing it to her. “Come by this address at ten tomorrow night.”
She took it as if the card was gold, “Thank you.”
When they were gone, Ringo raised his eyebrows in question.
“I may want to use them.”
“Tomorrow night?”
“No. At least not yet. The young woman, though, she is attractive.” He stood and looked out the window, “You’re meeting the ship tonight as scheduled.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Call me when you’ve unloaded. And don’t let him back on the ship to leave. He stays here.”
Ringo nodded and left the room.
~*~
Jean Claude sailed the old Bertram into the mouth of the Miami River at midnight, then cruised at four knots until he spotted the unoccupied slip just beyond where the Seybold Canal joined the Miami River. The Spring Garden Point Park was in front of the bow and no one was in sight. Perfect. He hopped to the small dock and snugged the lines to two cleats, then re-boarded and ushered the eighteen Iranians up and off the ship. Leading them into the park so they were under the tree shadow, Jean Claude handed them a phone and said, “Straight ahead to the street. Call, and hide until they pick you up there.”
He watched them move across the grass and find cover in the brush near the street. When Jean Claude turned, Ringo Bazin materialized out of the shadows. Jean Claude’s heart froze in his chest. Ringo said, “Come.”
“But the boat…”
“Come.” Ringo gripped the man’s bicep so hard Jean felt nerves screaming from his shoulder to his fingers.
They walked in the shadows to an older model Chevrolet Impala, where Ringo released the man’s arm and pointed at the passenger’s door. Jean Claude thought about running, but changed his mind and got into the car. Ringo circled to the driver’s side, got in and started the engine. He didn’t look at Jean Claude as he said, “Dessaline has plans and you will trust him.”
“What plans?”
“He will tell you.”
“And if I don’t like them?”
Ringo turned his head slowly and looked at the man. “Imagine the worst thing that can happen to you.”
Jean wiped his mouth, but didn’t speak the rest of the trip. When they arrived at Dessaline’s home, he balked, but Ringo forced him through the door where Marc waited in the living room. He said, “Sit,” and pointed at a chair. Jean obeyed, shaking as he plopped down.
Ringo stood behind him, and Jean kept trying to look around at him until Marc said, “Look at me, and listen.”
Jean sat at attention as he was told what would happen in the next days.
One hour later, a cab picked up Jean Claude and drove him from the premises.
~*~
Hunter Kincaid pulled into the office parking lot when her phone rang. She looked at the number but didn’t recognized it, and let it ring a second and third time before answering. “Hello.”
“Agent Kincaid, how are you?”
She recognized Dessaline’s voice. “I’m at work.”
“You made good time on your commute this morning. I assume there was light traffic on the roads?”
