Beyond Limits (Tracers #8)(52)
“I found some footprints in the mud, while you were under.”
“Fresh ones?”
“Looked fresh to me,” she said. “Our crime-scene techs can take a look, maybe get something useful.”
Derek surveyed the swamp grass. He looked from the water to the spot on the gravel road where the Avalanche had picked up the passenger.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“What?”
He crossed the dock. He followed the road a few paces and stepped off the gravel into the marsh. Mud oozed between his toes as he looked out at the water.
“Fuckin’ A.”
“Derek, what is it?”
He waded back in.
* * *
Elizabeth scanned the surface, searching for any sign of him.
“He still down there?”
She turned to look at the guard and nodded.
Another truck sped up to the dock and skidded to a stop. There were four now, all with the same private security company logo on the door. They’d also been joined by the chief operations officer for Oil Trans, who’d pulled up in a fancy white Suburban and was now standing on the dock talking on his cell phone. No one seemed happy with the fact that an FBI agent and a diver from an as-yet-unnamed law-enforcement agency had suddenly started snooping around their boat dock.
Elizabeth squinted at the water. She checked her watch. Her heart pounded as she stared out at the shimmery surface. He’d been under almost half an hour. What could possibly be taking so long? With every minute that ticked by, her dread increased.
A dark shape on the rippled surface. Was it . . . ?
She squished her way through the grass as he rose out of the water like some sort of swamp monster.
“What’d you find?” Water swirled around her ankles as she trudged out to meet him.
He raked his hair out of his face, and the look in his eyes made her stomach clench.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
He glanced over her shoulder. “Your guys here yet?”
“They’re on their way.”
“Tell them to double-time it.”
“Is it a bomb?”
“It’s a sub.”
She stared at him. “A what?”
“Like an SDV, only smaller. Given the size and shape, I’m guessing it’s from Mexico or maybe Central America. Could be Colombian.”
She waded closer until she was knee-deep in water as she tried to get her brain to process the words. “What are you talking about? What’s an SDV?”
“It’s like an SDV. A SEAL delivery vehicle used to insert covertly into enemy territory. But this boat’s actually bigger.”
“Are you telling me you found a submarine out there?”
Water glistened on his face as he looked down at her. “A narco sub, yes. Probably big enough for a three-man crew and a shit ton of cargo, all of it long gone at this point. Damn thing’s been scuttled.”
Her mind reeled. “But . . . how the hell would someone get a submarine up the Houston Ship Channel?”
“Wrong question, Liz.” He clamped a wet hand on her shoulder. “What you need to worry about is why.”
Chapter Fourteen
Torres picked up on the first ring.
“I need an update on Palicek,” Elizabeth told him.
“This place is dead. Nothing happening, and it’s been almost an hour.”
“Not even a drive-by?”
“Zip,” Torres reported. “And we’ve got four unmarked units staked out around his apartment complex. If anyone did a drive-by, we’d have seen it.”
So where had Palicek taken his mystery passenger?
Elizabeth glanced around the waterfront, bustling with emergency workers. Firefighters and Coast Guard personnel stood in knee-deep water, watching as the narco sub was slowly pulled ashore by a huge winch attached to an industrial-sized tow truck. The vessel was black, bullet-shaped, and about forty feet long. Made of fiberglass, it would be practically invisible to both radar and sonar.
Gordon stood beside the submarine now, talking to the Coast Guard captain. He caught her eye and broke away from his conversation.
“If you ask me, we’re wasting our time here,” Torres said. “I don’t think this guy’s coming home tonight.”
“Okay, call me if you get anything,” she said.
“You, too.”
Gordon trekked through the marsh toward her. He wore the suit from earlier, but his wingtips had been replaced by heavy rubber boots on loan from the security chief.
“Where’s Lieutenant Vaughn?” he wanted to know.
“I—” She glanced over her shoulder. “He was just here.” She skimmed the roadside, and her gaze landed on a shiny red ladder truck.
Parked right where Derek’s pickup had been a few minutes ago.
She looked at Gordon. “I don’t know. I think he went to get changed.”
Gordon’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket to check the screen. “Tell him we need him over here.” He glanced up at her. “He hasn’t been debriefed yet, and the Coast Guard captain needs to talk to him.”
He headed off to take the call, and Elizabeth’s dread mounted as she dialed Derek. She’d bet money that while she’d been distracted with all the chaos, he’d pulled one of his ninja tricks.