Unlawful Chase by C.J. Schnier (new books to read .TXT) 📗

as the headlights illuminated him and let out a stifled yawn as he stepped out of his shack.

"Hola," he said groggily.

"Hola," I answered before switching to my native tongue. "Look guy, you know me, I'm just heading to my boat." My exhaustion was catching up with me. I had forgotten about the gate guard. With any luck, he would be tired enough to let us pass without a challenge. I went with an entitled American attitude, hoping that the stereotype would work to my advantage.

The man's eyes widened. "Mr. Hawkins? What happened to you, did you get in a fight? And, I thought you left already," he said in slow, careful English.

"I did. And now I'm back. I've had a really long couple of days and all I want to do is get to my boat. Are you going to let us pass or not?" I asked, with mock irritation.

He thought about it for a moment before replying. "I don't want to get in any more trouble. The military was here after you left. You are a wanted man. I should call this in."

I rolled my eyes, doubling down on the entitlement. "That was all a big misunderstanding. It has all been cleared up. Besides, do you think I'd be driving around in General Bardales' Jeep if he still wanted to arrest me?"

The guard looked over the Jeep and scoffed. "Does the general know you wrecked it? You may be free now, but you might find that you are again a wanted man when he finds out."

"Like I said, I already dealt with Bardales," I replied. It was a lie, but it wasn't entirely untrue. I had, in a manner of speaking, dealt with Bardales. In my experience, the best lies are the ones based in truth.

"Still, I don't know. If you're lying, I could get in real trouble," he said conspiratorially. My over-tired brain raced to figure out what it was he was hinting at, but subtlety was not something I was prepared to process anymore. As my brain churned, Miles leaned forward and put his hand on my shoulder.

"I've got this," he said to me softly before addressing the guard. "Will you let us in for a hundred US dollars? We're all exhausted and want to get some sleep."

The man's eyebrows shot up at the mention of the money. It might have been my delirium, but I could almost swear that I saw his eyes turn green with greed.

"One hu-hundred dollars?"

"Yes," Miles replied patiently. "One hundred dollars, American. But we need to get to the boat to get it."

"Yes, yes. Of course!" The man said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Come on in."

"Thank you."

When we were out of earshot of the guard, I glared back at miles in the rearview mirror. "Another hundred dollars? What part of I'm broke did you not understand."

"Hey, it got us in the gate, didn't it?" he answered.

"I've got to agree with Dr. Blatt on this one. It got us in," Jaye added with a smile, taking some sort of perverse pleasure in my financial discomfort.

"I don't see either of you dishing out any money," I retorted.

"At least you have your boat, I'm out a plane," Jaye reminded me. She had a point, but we had all lost something trying to recover the idol. Miles had lost a lot of his research, Jaye her plane, and I had lost Paramour. It was blind luck Carlos had rescued her. In hindsight, Carlos was the only one coming out ahead in this venture.

"And look at her," I said, nodding to Paramour docked exactly where she had been before. "She's one beautiful boat."

"Pretty or not, let's hope that we can actually get out of Cuban waters this time," Jaye said

"Just remember Chase, you need to pay Carlos first. If you cheat him and he goes to the authorities, a Cuban gunboat will intercept you long before you make it to international waters," Miles said.

"Noted," I said as I grabbed the green duffel bag from the back of the Jeep and headed for the dock. "Grab your stuff. The sooner I get out of here the better."

Paramour was a disheveled mess. Her hastily dropped sails laid loose across the pilothouse and bimini top. The extra diesel cans that I kept strapped to a board on the deck were all missing, and half of my meager supply of clothes were strewn about the cockpit. The outboard motor was missing from its bracket on the stern but at least the dinghy was onboard. I knew I would find more of my belongings missing as I searched through the boat. It was to be expected.

Carlos had taken everything he could in the short time that he had possessed the boat, and I could hardly fault him for it. He, like the others in his village, was poor. A few gallons of diesel and a modern outboard would be the equivalent of a financial windfall. The money I was about to pay him was just icing on the cake.

Down below, both the salon and the galley were a mess. The drawers had been ransacked, though it looked like most of their contents were still accounted for. The rest of my clothes lay scattered haphazardly across the settees and floor. I let out a long sigh. We would have to clean all of this up once we got out to sea. I told myself that none of that was important right now. It was only time and effort, something I would have plenty of once we got into international waters.

Ignoring the mess, I dropped the duffel bag in the v-berth and checked my secret hiding spot where I hid my money. I had to feel around for a few moments until I found the stash. I pulled six hundred-dollar bills out. Five for Carlos, and another for the guard. I winced when I saw how little money I had left. There would not be any leisure stops on my way back to