Wood's Dilemma: Action and Adventure in the Florida Keys (Mac Travis Adventure Thrillers Book 13) by Steven Becker

Author:Steven Becker [Becker, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The White Marlin Press
Published: 2021-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

19

Mac lowered the weapon, unable to inflict any more damage. He watched the dinghy disappear into the backcountry knowing he was unable to follow—the flats were just too skinny for his trawler. Wood’s old skiff might have been able to give chase, but he’d been remiss in maintaining it. Even then, Commander would be long gone with his gold.

“Bastard.” Trufante said what they were all thinking.

Mac nodded. “I’m going to head back to the dock and see if Mel’s okay. Nothing else we can do here.”

Pamela came beside Mac. “He won’t win, Mac Travis.”

Mac pursed his lips. “No, he won’t.” He raised the ramp and backed off the flat. When the water was deep enough to allow a turn, he spun the boat and headed to the dock.

Mel was there waiting. Though she looked disheveled, her face showed determination. A glance at Pamela showed the same. Mac was grateful to have these two strong women around. They didn’t always get along, but in a crisis they handled their disparities well. Their personalities were polar opposites, but their skill sets overlapped nicely.

“You okay?” Mac asked as he pulled up to the dock. Mel handed a line to Trufante in the bow, then stepped back to hand Pamela the stern line. They were quickly tied off and Mac shut down the engines.

Silence fell. They all knew that this battle was over. Mac was sure he’d seen the case of gold in the dinghy, but he had to doublecheck. He stepped onto the dock and gave Mel a quick hug. An onlooker might have though it brusque, but anyone who knew the couple understood how deeply they were bonded—public displays of affection weren’t necessary.

“I have to see for myself.” He left the dock and started along the trail to the clearing, with Mel, Pamela, and Trufante following. Somewhere around the shed, he noticed Trufante drop back, probably in search of a beer. Mel and Pamela continued in his footsteps until they reached the area where the cache had been buried.

Mac stared at the open hole and kicked a piece of the sandy loam into the excavation. This wasn’t the first treasure he’d lost, and he knew he’d probably find and lose a few more before he was done. Having to go back to work didn’t bother him, either. Who had taken the cache and what they would do with it concerned him more than its loss.

“That gold’s got some bad juju about it,” Pamela said.

The bullion they had found aboard the sunken plane had been looted from the Cuban treasury when Batista fled the country in the late fifties. Pamela had been vocal before about how it belonged to Cuba and any other use would be bad karma. Mel had agreed, but had been unable to find a practical use. Repatriating it to the communist regime wouldn’t give it back to the people. Mac considered himself a custodian and rarely dipped into the reserve. Whenever he did, he remembered Pamela’s warning.

Pamela often displayed a gift of foresight.

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