A Cult in Paradise; Episode 6, Enter Harper Calloway

This is episode six of the fifth book in the Trace Troy Adventures in  Paradise series. The Title is A Cult in Paradise. It will be featured in episodes over the next few months. It will eventually be published in full on Amazon. All of the Trace Troy books, as well as my other novels, can be purchased on Amazon by clicking the Bookstore tab above. I hope you enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. 

Enter Harper Calloway

After the meal, they climbed on deck. A cool breeze curled over the mountains west of the bay and swept across gentle waves. They sat on the deck with their backs leaning against the railing. Soft city sounds came from Suva.

The conversations were light and mundane, with short bursts of laughter. It was too early in the mission for anyone to be burdened by anxiety or feelings of trepidation. 

“Pete,” Trace said, “what sort of weapons can you get?”

“Tomorrow, I will get four L1A1s,” Pete said, “and two more the day after.”

“Can you get some pistols?” Trace said.

“How many?” Pete asked.

“The thought of all of us being armed and paid is mercenary to me,” Trace said. “However, I see the possibilities and practicality—six.”

“Can you get us a box of rattlesnakes?” Coyote joked. “They’re for a friend.”

Adam leaned forward and looked at Trace. “I don’t think we have to be apologetic about any weapons. I’ve looked at some of the files. They will outman and outgun us, maybe ten to one. And they’re trained. All we really have on our side is surprise, trickery, and deceit. It’s like they know the martial arts, and we use bare knuckles and we bite. And the best way for martial arts to work is if the other guy fights fair. We will not fight fair.”

“I guess we’ll shoot first and not stick around to ask questions,” Sage said.

“That’s a good plan,” Adam said.”We’re not facing folks who think like anybody we know. Well, there may be a couple. They have the mentality of a nest of hornets.”

“There’s this pretty little bird. It’s sort of a red color, and some are yellow—they say. Not very big. About the size of a sparrow,” Trace said.

“I’ve seen that bird before,” Sage said.

“It’s called a tanager,” Adam said.

“They love hornets’ nests,” Trace said. “Learned about them in biology. We've got to be like the tanager.”

“The man I saw today,” Adam began, “He said an operation like   I described to him would take a lot of money and planning. That’s why things like this are left to governments; they have unlimited resources. How much is Franks willing to spend?”

“He’s passed on a hundred thousand, so far,” Trace said.

“I’m not one to quibble about dollars and cents when Franks’ son’s life may hang in the balance,” Adam said. “A hundred thousand sounds like a lot. It takes a lot to run a first-class operation. But if we don’t at least finance a first-class operation, we might as well be hauling copra.”

“What kind of equipment does your buddy suggest?” Sage said to Adam.

There were two plunks on the deck. Everyone turned in the direction of the sound. There were two duffel bags. 

“Permission to come aboard,” a man’s voice came from shore.

Everyone stood.

“Come aboard,” Adam said. “You don’t mind, do ya, Trace. That’s the guy I saw today.”

A man, average in height, thin, wearing khaki pants and shirt, came onboard. His clothes were neat and pressed. A well-trimmed mustache sat below a thin nose. His jaw was square with a butt chin.

“Allow me to introduce Harper Calloway,” Adam said, and introduced the crew.

“Just call me Cally,” he said. “I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation. That’s not the truth; it was more like I wanted to hear. Anyway, I’m signing on, whether you like it or not. You guys need me. And I’ve been itching for something like this for a long time.”

“Cally,” Trace said, “I don’t know if you heard the money part or not.”

“Yeah, a hundred thousand. For what we are going to do, that’s, none to very little,” Cally said. “If the government were involved, it would run into the millions. I’m used to working with less and still showing a profit. But here’s the real thing: years ago, Adam saved my life. That’s for another time. I’m not letting him walk into something without giving all that I can. The point is, this operation went from not a chance to one hundred percent doable. And nobody gets hurt.”

“I think you have our attention,” Trace said.

“First of all,” Cally said, “I’m not in charge. I’m an advisor. If I come in and take over, there’s only resentment. So who’s in charge?”

“I’m the captain,” Trace said. 

“Give me an order,” Cally said. 

“Let’s all sit down and you tell us what you have in mind,” Trace said.

A Cult in Paradise; Episode 5, One More Crew Member

This is episode five of the fifth book in the Trace Troy Adventures in  Paradise series. The Title is A Cult in Paradise. It will be featured in episodes over the next few months. It will eventually be published in full on Amazon. All of the Trace Troy books, as well as my other novels, can be purchased on Amazon by clicking the Bookstore tab above. I hope you enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. 

One More Crew Member

Everyone had agreed to meet back on The Tramp Islander at the end of the day and then go out to eat at a restaurant. There, they would review what had been accomplished during the day. 

Trace stepped onboard. The odor of food from the galley caught his attention. “Italian,” he murmured. “Garlic, onions, oregano. Coyote’s fixing his famous Texas spaghetti. Cant’t wait. It’s those chilis and jalapeños that make it Texas.”

Trace climbed below from the foredeck’s companionway. He walked through the hallway of passenger cabins and into the mess and salon compartment. Adam, Sage, and Coyote sat at the table. The table was already set.

“Hey, Coyote,” Trace said gleefully, “you didn’t have to cook anything. We were going to go out and eat.”

Adam, Sage, and Coyote smiled and looked toward the galley. Trace bent slightly to peer through the opening between the mess and the galley. 

“Makani!” Trace said. “It’s good to see you!”

“Sit and I serve,” Makani said. “We make big plans. No time to waste.”

“You’re coming!” Trace said elatedly. “That’s great!”

“Have a seat,” Adam said

Trace sat at the table. He looked at the place setting. He squinted one eye as if trying to figure out something confusing.

“What’s wrong?” Coyote said. “You act like you’re one a steer short.”

“Or I have a steer too many,” Trace said.

“What do you mean?” Sage said. 

“There are five of us,” Trace said, “but there are six places at the table.”

The toilet flushed. The head’s door flung open. It was Pete.

“What’s going on?” Trace said.

“Hey,” Pete said, “Coyote tells me he needs guns, and I asked him for what? He says nothing. I keep asking. And he said, every good cowboy’s last rodeo has to go out with a bang. I want big bang too.”

“He followed me,” Coyote tried to say apologetically.

“Does he know anything?” Trace said.

“Enough,” Adam said.

“He’ll have to come along. We can’t take any chances of this going beyond who already knows,” Trace said. 

“Who else knows?” Adam asked.

“I stopped in to talk to Allie,” Trace said. “She’s the one Franks confided in to get somebody to help him. She suggested us.”

“Thank you, Allie,” Sage said sarcastically.

“Franks says no one else knows,” Trace said. “We have to take him at his word. He more than anybody else knows how important it is to keep this secret.”

“Sit down, Pete,” Trace said.

Pete sat.

“You’re about to have some Texas-style spaghetti,” Adam said.

“Makani fixed it?” Trace asked. Before anyone could answer, Trace added, “Coyote’s is sometimes a little too hot.”

“It was all done long before Makani got here,” Sage said. “And if ya can’t stand the heat…”

Trace interrupted, “Stay out of the kitchen?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Coyote said. “It’s if ya can’t stand the heat, add more noodles. Get it, it spreads the heat out.”

“Trace,” Adam said, “what Coyote inadvertently said makes sense.”

“In other words,” Coyote said, “if I thought it out, it wouldn’t make sense.”

“Likely,” Adam joked, “what I’m saying, Trace, is that another man, like Pete, can be useful. What if you, Sage, Coyote, and me have to go on the island? Let’s say we are captured. That leaves only Makani on the ship.”

“Makes sense,” Trace said and smiled, “but we have to keep Pete and Coyote apart. It would only take a spark to send those guys into a full blaze.”

Makani brought a tray with a large bowl of pasta and one of Texas-style meat sauce. Also, there was a smaller bowl of pasta. Makani set the large bowl of pasta and meat sauce in the middle of the table. He set the small bowl of pasta next to Trace. “This special. May be too hot for sissy boy.”

Trace looked up at Makani while quipping to the others, “Who talked him into coming along?” 

A Cult in Paradise; Episode 4, Prison Visit

This is episode four of the fifth book in the Trace Troy Adventures in  Paradise series. The Title is A Cult in Paradise. It will be featured in episodes over the next few months. It will eventually be published in full on Amazon. All of the Trace Troy books, as well as my other novels, can be purchased on Amazon by clicking the Bookstore tab above. I hope you enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. 

Prison Visit

Trace entered Suva Prison. He felt closed in by the gray concrete twelve-foot-high walls, strung with razor wire along the top. A guard in a khaki uniform led him through an immaculate hallway. They stopped at a door at the end of the hallway. The guard patted Trace down and opened the door to the empty visiting room. Twenty tables with two chairs each were neatly arranged. 

“Have a seat, sir,” the guard said. “Prisoner Franks will be here shortly.”

Trace flashed a quick smile. “Thank you, officer.”

 Five minutes elapsed, and two guards escorted Franks to the chair across from Trace. The guards moved away from the table and stood on both sides of the door.

“It’s good to see you,” Franks said. “You have good news.”

“I do,” Trace said. “First, Allie sends her regards.”

“A good woman,” Franks said. 

“Sage and Coyote are all in,” Trace said.  “And when I say all in, it’s like taking all they have and splashing the pot.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Franks said.

“There are two thousand miles of ocean between us and your son,” Trace said. “It will take time. It will take time to plan this.”

“How much time?” Franks said.

“That’s something we have no idea about,” Trace said. “Dad is speaking to a trusted friend who is familiar with this type of thing. A lot depends on what he says.”

“This has to be hush-hush,” Franks said. “We can’t have your dad consulting with old friends.”

“I said a trusted friend,” Trace said. “Dad would not jeopardize our lives with anyone who couldn’t keep secrets.”

“Understood,” Franks said. “I’m very nervous.”

“That’s okay,” Trace said, “we all are. I came here to tell you that everything was a go and that I will see you every third day, starting with today. If I don’t show up on the third day, you can assume we are on our way.”

“I got that,” Franks said.

“If anything happens on the way there or back, that our mission has failed, we will have Allie visit you,” Trace said.

Franks nervously nodded. “So, no news is good news?”

“Unless we’re all at the bottom of the sea,” Trace said.

“There’s the matter of money,” Franks said.

“In all the excitement, I’ve never given it a thought,” Trace said.

“I just had one hundred thousand dollars transferred to Allie’s account,” Franks said. “That way, there’s not a direct link between us. And that money goes through a couple of other accounts before getting to Allie. Got to look out for her too.”

“Thanks for the box,” Trace said.

“Is it useful?” Franks said.

“I’m sure it will be,” Trace said. “We looked it over last night, and I got into it this morning.”

“What do you think?” Franks said.

“It’s better than going without a clue,” Trace said. “I’m sure there’s enough to come up with a plan from that, but…”

Franks interrupted, “‘The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.’”

“Mice are terrible planners,” Trace said. 

“I would like to know more about your plans,” Franks said. “But that sort of thing is not my area of expertise. I’m not a man of action, I’m a man of statistics and odds. Men such as you beat the odds, at least that’s what the statistics suggest. You improvise on the fly. It’s best if I know little about your plans. We should cut this short. The more we talk, the more you may be implicated. I’m not able to bribe everybody. The meter is running.”

“One more thing,” Trace said, “does anyone else know about this?”

“Allie,” Franks said, “and that’s it.”

“She’s a good one to trust,” Trace said.

“I’m curious,” Trace said, “the prison is only a walking distance to The Tramp Islander, why have the Rover and four motorcycles escort you for that short of a distance?”

“I’m a flamboyant casino owner,” Franks grinned. “Everything we do is ostentatious. If I had the time, I would have used a limo.”

“Thanks for the box,” Trace said and asked, “Silk sheets?”  

“Nothing but,” Franks said, with a short, polite smile. 

“I should let you go, Captain Troy,” Franks said. “We have a badminton tournament this afternoon.”

“Well,” Trace said, “I hope you finish first.”

“Oh no,” Franks grinned, “I’m not playing. I’m collecting bets and setting odds. I have to keep sharp. If I were a barber and incarcerated, they’d expect haircuts, but as it is… Don’t worry about returning. I’ll know when you leave. We must leave on a sour note.”

Franks stood abruptly. His face flashed into a rage. He flipped the table. “You piece of crap, you’re the reason I’m here. Coming here, wanting forgiveness; you've got your nerve! ”

The guards rushed toward Franks. He turned to them and said politely, “We’re done, here, gentlemen. I’m sorry to have upset you.”

The guards grabbed him from each side and rushed him to the door. Franks turned his head, winked, and smiled at Trace. 

Trace smiled and nodded.

A Cult in Paradise; Episode 3, Planning Plans

This is episode three of the fifth book in the Trace Troy Adventures in  Paradise series. The Title is A Cult in Paradise. It will be featured in episodes over the next few months. It will eventually be published in full on Amazon. All of the Trace Troy books, as well as my other novels, can be purchased on Amazon by clicking the Bookstore tab above. I hope you enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. 

Planning Plans

The motorcade disappeared into the city night. Trace opened the hatch to the forward companionway. He was about the step down. A light green sedan stopped on the street in front of The Tramp Islander. The horn beeped three times. A man exited, holding a cardboard box with both arms.

“Trace Troy,” the man called out.

“Yeah,” Trace said, “what’s up?”

“Waldo Franks told me to deliver this to you,” the man said. 

Trace walked to the gangplank, and the man handed him the box. “Mr. Franks said all the information he has is in this box.”

“Thanks,” Trace said. And the man walked back to the car and drove away.

Adam, Sage, and Coyote approached Trace. They looked curiously into the box.

“What do ya s’pose it is?” Coyote said.

“Let’s find out,” Trace said.

They used the forward companionway, and everyone climbed below. Coyote made coffee. And they sat at the mess table. Trace and Adam the meeting they had with Franks. 

“Are you and your dad inclined to go along?” Trace asked Sage.

“That’s a lot to think over,” Coyote said.

“You guys talked to him,” Sage said. “Do you think it’s all on the up and up?”

“That was quite a show for it to be a charade,” Adam said. 

Trace looked in the box. “This stuff just isn’t thrown in here. It’s carefully indexed and in order. This was put together by somebody who cares.”

“This is a no-brainer for me,” Sage said. “I didn’t plan on going anywhere anyways. Sure, let’s give it a shot.”

“This sounds like more fun than pigs at sloppin’ time,” Coyote said. “When do we ride?”

“I don’t want to be five days out to sea and wish we had planned better or brought something more with us,” Trace said. “Tomorrow, I’ll visit Franks. I’ll tell him the crew is all in. I’ll try to get a hold of Makani and tell him what’s up. I hope he’s agreeable to go. It will be hard to find a replacement under these conditions. And I’m not hiring anyone unless they know what they’re facing.”

“Why not let me handle Makani?” Adam said. “You take care of visiting Franks. I think there’s enough for you to do as it is.”

“Do you want us to get some firepower?” Coyote said. “You know, stuff that makes a lot of noise and scares the crap out of folks.”

Everyone rolled their eyes.

“I’m just funnin’,” Coyote said. “Everyone knows more money is stolen from banks by fraud and cookin’ the books than by shootin’ tellers and blowin’ the doors off the vaults.”

“I’m thinking it would be good that we all become familiar with the contents in this box,” Trace said. He pulled a map from the box. It was a map of the South Pacific. He placed his finger on the map’s scale in the legend. He measured the distance from Fiji to the island, Flint Island, using a pencil. 

“About two thousand miles,” Trace murmured. 

“Two weeks?” Sage said.

“Yeah,” Trace said. “That sounds like a long time.”

“The planning will take more than that,” Adam said. “We have to spend our time wisely. Instead of me looking for Makani, I have an old friend on the island. I think he would be a valuable resource of information for an operation like this one.”

“Yeah,” Sage said, “I might be the best one to talk to Makani. I won’t twist his arm—well, maybe a little.”

“What about me?” Coyote said, “I’m startin’ to feel as useless as clutch peddle on a trail horse.”

“I got something right down your alley,” Trace said. “Go to a bar named Sneaky Pete’s. Tell Pete who you are.”

“Coyote,” Coyote said, “that’s dumb. So that’s right down my alley, ay?”

“No,” Trace said, “I meant Adam Troy’s best friend, and you are on The Tramp Islander. Before you get there, estimate some firepower. Not a lot, just enough to let folks know we’re serious. Pete might be the man who can get what we need. And from the stories Dad has told me, he might even have what we need at the bar.”

“Now that’s an assignment I can comprehend,” Coyote said.

“And when you’re there, ask for a Singapore Sling,” Adam said.

Coyote winked.

They discussed plans and eventually went to bed.

The next morning, everyone headed in different directions to handle their assignments. Trace visited Allie in her office.

“Sit down,” Allie gestured to a chair in front of her desk. “Look at this.” Her head turned from side to side, looking at the pile of papers on top of both sides of her desk. “I’m swamped.”

“This is going to be hard to hear,” Trace grimaced, “but I have sort of a non-cargo charter. It will take at least two months.”

Allie leaned back in her chair. “Non-cargo, charter, you say.”

“Yeah,” Trace said. “I can’t carry any cargo. The Tramp Islander will be taking a charter voyage.”

“I know,” Allie said. “I sort of steered Franks your way.”

“You're in on this?” Trace asked.

“Kind of,” Allie said. “A few years back, shortly after my husband died, this business was going through a rough spell. I went to Franks’ casino. Had a little too much to drink, and I thought I could gamble my way out of a tough spot. Franks grabbed the dice from my hand, walked me back to his office, and gave me an interest-free loan, on the spot.”

“What did he ask in return?” Trace asked suspiciously.

“Not a thing,” Allie said, “until now.”

“So maybe he’s not so bad after all,” Trace said.

“He’s bad alright,” Allie said, “but if you have his friendship, that’s another thing. He got in touch, and I visited him. I told him about you and told him your dad was in town too. I told him, if anyone could help, it would be Adam—and his son.”

“How did he react when you told him Trace Troy was Adam Troy’s son?” Trace said.

“Well,” Allie said, “I thought his eyes were about to pop out of his head. Nothing rattles him. He has nerves of steel, but that rattled him plenty. It’s sort of funny, he said, ‘Can he be trusted to do something illegal?’”

“I told him the Troys are a strange breed,” Allie said. “They know the difference between right and wrong and the law. If anybody can help, it’s those two.”

“Does anyone else know about this?” Trace said. “I haven’t told a soul. Other than that, you’ll have to ask Franks.”

“Well, I guess I’m done here,” Trace said. “This was a courtesy call. I was all set to come here and feed you a lie about what was going on for the next couple of months. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have everything mapped out for me and the crew.”

“You’re trying to flatter me,” Allie said. “How soon will you be leaving?” 

“I can’t say for sure,” Trace said. “We are planning the plans right now.”

“If there’s anything,” Allie said, “I can keep it on the down-low. I got friends in low places.”

“I’m about to visit one,” Trace said, “Franks.”

“Tell him I said hi,” Allie said.

“By the way,” Trace said, “did you ever pay him back?”

“Within sixty days,” Allie said. “That’s when the interest started. I told you, he’s not all good.”

Trace winked and stood. “If we don’t run into each other in the next couple of weeks, it’ll probably be a couple of months before I’m back in town.”

“Take care of you and your dad,” Allie said.

Trace grabbed the door knob and stopped. He turned to Allie. “Are you a religious person?”

“I got married in a church,” Allie said. 

“Never mind,” Trace said. “I was going to ask you if you ever heard of Melchizedek.”

“Melted cheese on what?” Allie smiled.

“See ya in a couple of months,” Trace smiled and left Allie’s office.