Page 40 of Under the Radar

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Hugh and Mac waited for the elevator together in silence, standing on separate weight scanners. Mac touched a thumb pad on the door. A small ding signaled a retinal scanner to open and obtain verification. He stepped in when the elevator door slid open and turned to Hugh. “See you upstairs.”

Mac whisked up a flight and repeated similar scan procedures to exit the elevator. He strode into a half-acre vault loaded with row after row of weaponry, ammunition, tables, cots, and lockers. He approached his locker, scanned his thumbprint and punched in a numeric code. Call him sentimental, but the code was Lily’s birthdate backward. His locker door sprung free.

Hugh joined him a minute later.

Mac retrieved his favored Glock and a semi-automatic. “That’s quite a ruse you pulled in the old van with the tourists. I never expected you to bring a vehicle from a previous century.”

“Hey mon, you let me know at three in the morning that you needed a special tour. I had every vehicle booked today but the old one. When we leave, the newer ride will be available, but this morning I was in a jamb. I don’t know if you noticed, but every pier has a cruise ship docked in it. Tonight, we’ll switch to the black Mercedes and ride like diplomats behind tinted windows.” He smacked his thigh and let out a hearty Caribbean laugh. “Tell me, my friend, where did you find your sun goddess? God bless America, she’s a real beauty. Her silky blonde hair begs a man to run his hands...”

Mac cleared his throat and leveled a hard stare in his friend’s direction.

Hugh shook his head. “Beg your pardon, Commander, excuse my bad manners. No offense meant to you or your darling lady friend.”

“None taken—yet.” Mac shoved several ammo clips into what looked like a red paisley lunch bag for two and set the semi-automatic next to them. The small Glock he holstered in the back of his shorts.

Hugh cocked his head as he loaded several weapons into a briefcase. “She’s different, Mac. You’ve always chosen the dark, mysterious types.”

Mac nodded. “In the past, I chose a woman based on the physical. This time I decided to walk like a blind man and look for a deeper emotional, even spiritual connection. At the risk of sounding weird, I wanted a special woman who could calm me down and understand me. Mo does that and much more. The fact that she is potently gorgeous is icing on the cake.”

“Perhaps I should be stricken blind for a few days and recover to find such a beauty in my life,” Hugh noted with a grin.

The two men worked quietly, loading weapons, signing out arms and ammo at a computer station. “Remember to take your Bahamian license to carry, Mac.”

“Got it. I also need reconnaissance jewelry. I’m thinking earrings.” Mac hefted the lunch bag onto a table and placed a false bottom in the middle, covering all his newly acquired hardware. “Is the procedure the same?”

“Yeah, mon. You need any techie advice with your choices?”

“Always. Techie stuff is your specialty.”

“What exactly are you looking for?

“Audio, video, and GPS.”

Hugh snorted. “Not asking for much, eh? Why earrings and not cufflinks or a pen?”

“They’re for Mo.”

“Okay. Why?”

“You saw the email I sent you?”

Hugh nodded.

“I got a text from a friend in the Baltimore PD. The street value of the heroin found in Mo’s car is in the millions.”

Hugh gave a low whistle. “Ah, and now you know you’re dealing with a cartel, yes? They won’t sit by idly watching all that money wasted. Does Miss Maureen know?”

“Not yet. I’d like to give her a fun day on the island and tell her tonight. It’s quite possible that everything will be fine. There’s no back-up at the next two ports, so we might not get off the ship. Do you have an exit plan if we need it?”

“Of course. Two of them, as a matter of fact. They both include a speedboat and scooter. I’ll program the coordinates in your burner phone.”

“And back-up?”

“Felix is on-duty. He’ll be thirty yards behind you all day. Close enough to watch your back and far enough to allow privacy. You go in the water? He’ll protect your hardware on the blanket.” Hugh patted his friend’s shoulder. “He’s good, Mac. Real good.”

“Okay. What’s he look like?”