Shadows of the Past (SEAL Brotherhood: Shadow Team #1)

Chapter Sixteen

M orning came. They’d made all the plans the night before. She warned him to take everything he needed with them, because more than likely the Don had discovered where they were staying. They would not be returning. She didn’t want them finding his guns.

“But where?”

“We’ll find something down by the water. There are rooms for rent, boutique hotels with four suites. That kind of thing. Sometimes people rent them by the day. We’ll have a nice dinner there. If you need clothes, we can buy something. I’ll need a couple of things. I want to leave enough so they think we’re coming back.”

“What about your parents?”

“They’ll meet us at the harbor tomorrow. We have family to drive them.”

So he packed up everything and hauled it down to the cabaret.

Dimitri grew a new appreciation for the ladies who had once again showed him how to dress, to walk, how to talk and do his makeup. They even showed him a couple of dance routines, how to wind a feather boa around a pole.

He declined the invitation to do it with an audience. He also declined the offer to do his makeup.

“The time for games is over, ladies. I have to do this my way this time.”

Several nodded agreement and understood. He knew Moira wasn’t so sure.

But he found in these ladies an odd kinship. They were persecuted and chased, many of them with tragic stories of loved ones sent away to live in hospitals, or worse. Some had been pillars of society and were again, as he had to keep reminding himself.

It wasn’t what they wore or their strange way of speaking and showing affection, strange to him at least, that mattered. It was what was in their hearts that he valued most. They didn’t hide that, nor their pride for doing so. Not averse to taking risks, maybe in different ways than he ever would, they were warriors too. Culture warriors who battled every day, lived with pain and regret and their own sad form of PTSD and fear for what they’d experienced in their past.

He enlisted their help, going over the plan he proposed and had partially set up.

“You’ll be working alongside men I’ve been to battle with, men I trust as you do each other. They are protectors.”

He saw in their faces some of the inspiration he’d hoped to find. He trusted them. He wasn’t just hiring a small clutch of interesting men who dressed and identified as women. He was embracing a community, and they him. Moira was his entry ticket to their lives, to their stories.

They were all in for love, supporting his love of Moira, encouraging his efforts to protect her family. They had no love of the powerful Don who showered anger and abuse on them when he could get away with it.

The plan was set. The guys were arriving tomorrow at seven. Then they’d be taken to the boat works to pick up the yacht and meet them at the harbor here, if all worked out. And if not? Well, there was always his father’s way.

What are you going to do? It is what it is.

They dined at a seafood place with a jazz singer who was mind-blowing.

He caught Moira flirting with him and breaking out in a wide, mischievous smile from time to time. He knew what she was thinking. It was thrilling to know she thought he looked hot, even with his earring and rainbow hair. He found it easier as the hours went by to just pretend he was waiting in the bushes, painted with blackout, armed, alert, and using every tool in his arsenal to stay alert and safe. Some hair tint and an earring wasn’t a biggie any longer. At least it wasn’t makeup.

He examined every stranger or couple who came in or out of the little restaurant.

They walked with his arm around her shoulder to the little pension they’d picked out with a veranda overlooking the water. He stripped down and showered. She joined him, kissed his hungry lips, and gripped his hair as he knelt before her, tasting her goodness and making her come in little whimpers.

They didn’t speak all evening, because there was nothing to say. Tomorrow, they’d see how close to the plan they could make it. With luck, twenty-four hours from now they’d be on a plane to New York.

He held her in his arms all night long, just so she knew that he would never, ever leave her again.

No matter what.

The bright sun glared off the glassy waters of the bay, nearly blinding them. While he was getting ready and packing up, she walked down to a corner bakery and purchased croissants and coffee.

He was hungry, even with the huge dinner the night before, but the coffee helped, and the croissant kept his stomach from grumbling. She once again offered the makeup, and once again, he declined.

“I didn’t tell them what I’d look like.”

“You could send them a picture.”

He was horrified of that answer. “Holy crap, Moira, no pictures. Not to anybody!”

She smiled and nodded her agreement. “It’s only for your protection.”

“I don’t think we’ll need it. Just a few steps away from the terminal. If it makes you feel better, we can bring it, but I was going to toss it, frankly.”

“You’re the expert.”

“I’m sure they’re already on edge. That would just do them in. And for the record, I don’t ever want you to show any of those pictures you have on your phone to anyone. We’re going to purge those when we get in the air, understood?”

“Of course, anything you say.”

Her family and several of their cabaret friends were waiting in the Ferry Terminal, a half hour early, mostly because it was temperature controlled and had vending machines to buy waters and snacks, and it was relatively hidden. The first ferries came and went. Hordes of people arrived; fewer went back toward the mainland. That would all change later in the afternoon in reverse and be completed by sunset.

At seven, he began to pace. They should have landed. No word had arrived. When nothing was heard by nine, he had Moira call her relative.

“He’s not seen them. They have not come out from baggage claim. Probably immigration.”

“Oh dear. Do you think there’s a problem?”

“No, this is common. A little long, but they like to look like they’re thorough. Depends on how many are working and how many are coming through. We have three cruise ships today in Naples, so perhaps that’s the holdup.”

They waited. Moira called the boat works to let them know the guests had not arrived. He confirmed the crew was waiting and would until noon, but then they’d have to cut it off.

Dimitri knew that if the yacht crew refused to wait longer, the alternative would be for the men to take the ferry. But then, that would mean everyone would have to turn right back around and ride it back. It made no sense and was too high profile, too public. With the yacht, they had the option to dock at several ports along the coast, and they had a first, second, and third choice all lined up.

At last, the men were spotted. The driver got out and sent a video of the four men with their bags strapped over their shoulder, looking very much like combat types. But what wasn’t expected was that they were being escorted by two military police, wearing the Special Forces patches. Moira showed it to Dimitri.

“They’re coming right for him. Tell him to wait and let them load up. There’s not room for more. They can’t take those guards with them.”

Moira relayed the message, and a return message came back,

“The military police are driving them over. I’m going to follow.”

“Don’t get too close. Don’t get noticed,” Moira said into the phone. To Dimitri, she asked, “They do have the address, the dock number, right?”

“They do.”

At the manned security gate leading to the luxury yachts, the police handed back their passports and gave them a salute, per the driver.

And drove away!

Dimitri got the call he’d been waiting for. “We’re on our way. Little bit of a bumpy ride through customs. But all turned out well,” said Byron Reyes. “You guys all ready to take off in the next hour or before?”

“Roger that. Man, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“We had to get Kyle on the line. There was no way they were going to let us pass. He told them we were on vacation but also scouting for good training grounds for some underwater exercises. He had to tell them it was to be a joint operation. That seemed to be the magic word.”

Dimitri could hear the roar of the engines in the background as he hung up.

They alerted the others and worked their way down to the harbor, but they stood under a woody park of tall trees with several benches facing the water. Moira slipped him her hand.

“It’s going to work out. I know it will,” she whispered.

The pack was getting heavy to carry around, since he had included Moira’s things. His shoulder ached. But sitting there in the morning sunshine, by the water, he began to change his mind about the island as a destination for tourists. It was lovely. If you didn’t have two capos and a bunch of drug dealers after you, and if you weren’t trying to rescue a family—the family of your believed-to-be dead fiancée. Other than that, he could see himself enjoying the place.

In a little over a half hour, the streamlined luxury yacht came into view. The three-tier deck and long sleek lines of the sixty-foot vessel sliced through the water at top speed. A graceful thing of beauty. He figured it might be able to outrun an Italian Coastie, the bigger ships. The little ones were like speedboats, and there would be no chance. But a full destroyer-class ship would be much slower than the yacht, at least initially, to escape.

He’d been told the captain of the ship was also a pilot who directed huge cruise ships in and out of several of the ports on the island, as well as the coast, so he was the perfect hire. And he was an independent contractor, not affiliated with the government or attached to a ferry service for the cruising industry.

He came in slow, turned around, and headed in by stern. The young crew dropped lines on the portside at the dock. He’d been instructed to leave the motors running to pick up the passengers.

Dimitri was the first to board, walking up to the four men, who stared at him.

“You got a little Capri goin’ on there, big D,” said Byron. “You stay here any longer and you’ll come back with dreadlocks.”

“You have no idea, Byron. I’ll tell you later.” He greeted the others and then headed up to the captain and introduced himself.

“Captain Phillips, I presume?” he asked.

The British captain gave him a gruff handshake, crossing his eyes. “Don’t you dare bring that up. I’ve been on enough ships to dread that kind of an outcome. That was a one-in-a-thousand mission.”

“Couldn’t agree more. So you got the plan? We’re hoping for no interference from the locals. So far, nothing from the Don here. You connected or know anybody in that group?”

“Don’t understand a thing about that, mate. I stay completely away from all that. Strictly by hire. No politics. It’s dangerous here in Italy, if you understand my meaning. But you’re the one paying the bills, so welcome aboard. And you got some of your colorful ilk coming aboard as well, I understand? I wasn’t told about this until just now.”

“Yes, little change in strategy. Creating a diversion. There’s a twenty percent bonus for the inconvenience.”

Dimitri knew the captain was mumbling under his breath to the two others on the bridge, but it was of no concern to him. He was headed back to his Team.

They helped Moira aboard then her parents and her sister and brother. As planned, Moira took them immediately downstairs in the galley and out of sight. Then the line of cabaret folk followed, and being they were ladies, the men helped each one board, high heels, feather boas, and colorful wigs to boot. The ladies were impossible to keep quiet.

Dimitri saw Byron search the pier.

“You see the Spec Ops guys?”

“Nope. No sign of them. I don’t think they were suspicious up to a point. We’re good.”

He abruptly turned and faced Dimitri. “I was going to say, sir, that your trip to Italy has done things to you. Why the fuck are we boarding these ladies?”

“It’s a smoke and mirrors thing. A distraction. Gives us time to get away. We didn’t know who would be meeting us here. That’s why you’re along. If we’re lucky, you won’t have to use anything in those bags you’re carrying.”

“Roger that.”

The captain waved to Dimitri, anxious to get out into the bay. He gave him the go ahead to begin to leave. The lines were pulled in and stowed, and in seconds, they slowly taxied through the smooth waters of the harbor. The girls floated about the yacht, picking up glasses of champagne, and enjoying the thrill of the multi-million-dollar vessel and the most luxurious view of the bay they’d probably ever see.

They were to taxi at low speed until after the markers, when they could tear out of this place.

“Explain the earring, the hair, and, oh my God, I see you’ve been wearing eyeliner! Dimitri, is this really you?” asked Parker Tisdale.

The other three stood nearby. Orenthall Hughes, the medic in the group, couldn’t contain himself.

“Can I take a picture?”

“You cannot. That’s final. Not a word of this to anyone. Understood?”

They all agreed, but that didn’t stop the jabs and pokes at his expense. Dimitri was so glad he had followed his instincts and not donned the makeup. He’d never ever outlive the gossip on the Teams, especially the wives.

Moira was introduced, shaking their hands, one by one.

One of the crew advised them to take their seats, as the speed was going to be picking up. “Or you’ll fly right back to Capri.”

“How’s it going, my love? Feel better now?” she asked.

“I don’t think we got all the makeup off. The guys noticed. And it itches.”

“No, sweetheart,” Moira said. “That’s the shaving. You’re not used to having your chest shaved.”

They sat at the stern, huddled together tight, while they went over the next steps of the plan. He confirmed they were able to carry their weapons, and they had flashers, tiny ones, in case they had to cause a distraction when they got to the mainland.

“We’re hoping to make it back to Naples, be dropped off, and then let the ladies party a bit on the bay. If not, we’ll dock wherever we can. We’ve got three choices tonight. One was taken off the list.”

“You expecting company?” asked Tisdale.

“Never know. Who were the guys at immigration?” Dimitri asked.

“At first, we thought they were sent to greet us. They looked at our bags. They saw what we had. We had our government-issued letters you had Kyle get for us. It helped that he was available by phone to verify everything. But they’re going to wonder why we returned so quickly. I wouldn’t recommend going back through Naples. You’ll have to go back through immigration again,” said Byron.

“I agree. They had Special Operations patches, though. Not immigration.”

“A special task force. Part of the Department of Defense,” said Byron.

That meant Francone was on to them.

He was going to have to make a decision. They could take a bus or train to Bari and fly out of there on a direct flight to London or, if he could get some help, fly out of the military base at Naples, not part of the regular airport. It was a shared operation with the Navy. If he couldn’t get permission, Bari was their only option or risk going through immigration again and get nabbed there.

He decided to opt for the trip to Bari, two and a half hours away, by train or car.

He instructed the captain to take them to an alternative southern location where they could hire a van. The captain had a spot.

“Less busy than Naples. Little town south, used by locals. Several boating clubs there, expensive second homes on the water. I think I can get in. I’ll call ahead and get a berth. If not, we’ll have to hire a pilot to offload.”

He had ten minutes to search for flights from Bari and discovered there was only one flight per day to London, and it wasn’t until the morning. They’d have to find lodging. He asked Moira to speak to her mother, who agreed with her that it wouldn’t be a problem finding a small hotel for one night.

They docked mere minutes later, quickly gathered their things, and said their good-byes. Dimitri promised the captain a large bonus if he showed the girls a good time.

“Remind me not to do business with you Yanks. Why can’t you ever stick to the original plan? I nearly shat myself when I saw that lot lined up on the pier. I thought you had gone plumb loco.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but nothing ever works out the way you plan it. That just SOP for us. We adapt.”

“What you call adapting and what we call folly, well, it’s two sides of the same planet. Dangerous and causes everyone unnecessary risks.”

“But you’re just the boat operator. You don’t own any of this.”

“Try telling that to the Civil Guard, who don’t much like you Yanks coming over and causing problems.”

“Not causing problems, rescuing a family from tyranny. Don’t forget that part, captain.”

They agreed to disagree, but Dimitri reiterated about the bonus, and they shook one more time. “Next time will be different, I promise.”

He quickly made the rounds with Doreen and the other girls.

“You let us know you got home safe and sound. We have an investment in you, Dimitri,” said Doreen. “We’ll be cheering you on from the cabaret, so you don’t keep us in the dark.”

“Thanks. This charter is for all day, but it ends by four. So you might have to spend the night in Naples and take the ferry home tomorrow. You have any trouble at all, let me know.” He tried to hand her some money.

“No, this is fun. You paid for the yacht. We’re happy as clams. Save your money for a nice room. You and Moira deserve it.”

“Be safe. Be careful, Doreen.”

“Oh, they won’t touch us. They want you, sweetheart,” Doreen said, pinching his cheek. “And, Sugar, you’re right. You look better this way. The other look doesn’t suit you. It really doesn’t.”

She gave him a gracious hug, as did the other ladies.

Dimitri knew that perhaps the ladies would be stopped at Naples, but by then, his group would be long gone on the road to Bari, which he figured wouldn’t be searched.

The ten of them disappeared into the crush of people enjoying the boats and the water. It reminded him of Capri. There was no sign of a firing squad awaiting them. It appeared the coast was totally clear. Not even a military vehicle in sight.

They found a van driver for hire near the port and were on the highway minutes later. They arrived in Bari to find a modern Italian chain hotel attached to the airport three hours later. He confirmed their tickets, they checked into three rooms on the same floor, and by sunset, everyone was ready for bed.

The Team Guys hung around Dimitri’s room for a bit, while he told them some stories about what they’d been through. Moira was attending to her parents, who had considerably calmed down.

The flight home would be tomorrow, not tonight, he mused. But other than that, they were almost home free.

He knew he’d maxed out his State credit card, and Davis would be calling him at any time. With any luck, they’d all have a big laugh tomorrow night when they touched down in the U.S. for good.

Almost there. Just a few hours to go.