Missions of the Retrieval Team - The Girl with the Silvery Smile

[davedove]

Opening Scene

The Caribbean Sea, just south of Cuba

We were drifting just within the territorial waters of Cuba, aboard the Bird’s Nest, our private yacht. Our client had hired us to retrieve an item he had dumped overboard to keep it from being confiscated by the Cubans. Apparently, he had been working for the C.I.A. and didn’t want his work to fall into their hands. When he was caught and boarded, he was able to maintain his cover as a lost pleasure boater sailing from Jamaica.

The U.S. government of course couldn’t officially come back to retrieve the item, so we had been hired to do so. Our client was ‘officially’ a wealthy businessman who simply wanted his gear back. A little research from Ms. Swan had uncovered the C.I.A. link.

However, they didn’t have to know that we knew.

We were using much the same cover. I was the rich playboy taking my yacht out with my lady friends. In keeping with that cover, our clothes were all swimsuits and beachwear.

Two of my associates, Ms. Starling and Ms. Hawk, were underwater, using scuba gear to dive to our target. We had taken our client’s last position and factored in the prevailing water currents to determine the target’s probable location. Unfortunately, water currents can be notoriously fickle and we had been at it for over an hour.

Ms. Falcon was seated in the helmsman’s chair, scanning the horizon with high-powered binoculars.

“Do you see anything yet?” I asked her.

“Not yet,” she replied, “but it probably won’t be long now.”

She was scanning for the Cuban authorities. We all knew it was only a matter of time before they came to check us out. If necessary, we would use our cover story, but we didn’t really want to be here when the Cubans arrived.

Ms. Raven and I were seated near the stern, waiting for our associates to surface. My other associates, Ms. Thrush, Ms. Stork, Ms. Swan, and Ms. Wren, were all on the top deck, sunbathing. Of course, they were also scanning the water for boats.

“I’ve got a boat,” Ms. Falcon called out.

“Where?” I asked.

“The port bow,” she answered.

“I assume it’s Cuban.”

“I can’t quite make it out for certain, just a minute.” She set down the binoculars and turned the viewing scope near her in that direction. She peered through it a few seconds, adjusting the focus. “I can just make out the flag. It’s Cuban.”

“Right, everyone get ready. We may need to do some fast talking.” At this point I could make out the patrol boat without need of binoculars. “They’re coming in fast. They definitely know we’re here.”

At that moment, a woman in scuba gear broke through the water behind us, followed shortly by another woman towing a large metal cylinder supported by balloon floats.

“They’ve got it,” called out Ms. Raven.

“Get ready to move out,” I called to Ms. Falcon, who immediately began to start up the yacht’s engines.

I moved to the stern to assist Ms. Raven as she helped my two associates back on board. Ms. Starling handed us the cylinder and then let Ms. Raven pull her aboard. Ms. Hawk followed close behind and I helped pull her aboard.

“We’ve got them, go!” I called to Ms. Falcon.

She eased the throttle forward and the yacht began to move through the water.

We quickly helped the ladies out of their gear and took it and the cylinder down to the hold. Ms. Raven quickly opened a secret panel and we shoved the cylinder and gear inside.

When we got back on deck, I saw that all my associates had joined Ms. Falcon, so we moved to do the same. I noticed that the Cubans were getting closer.

“We’re going to have to move faster,” I told Ms. Falcon.

She slid open a panel, which revealed more controls. I motioned for my associates to take seats and buckle in.

Just then, a small spout of water sprung up near us.

“They’ve opened fire!” called out Ms. Hawk.

I saw that all my associates had secured themselves, so I called to Ms. Falcon. “Do it now!”

“Okay,” she answered. “Ya’ll hold on now.”

She flipped a switch and suddenly the yacht leapt forward. Not long ago we had installed special engines for just this occasion. We couldn’t outrun some of the fastest ships, but we would have no problem outrunning the Cubans.

I turned around and noticed we were losing the Cubans. They were still shooting, but the shells were falling farther behind us.

“Good job ladies,” I called out over the wind. “Ms. Falcon, take us to Puerto Rico.”