Deadly Salvage. Don Pendleton

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       Chapter 3

      Bolan dialed Brognola back on the sat phone as they pulled into the Omni hotel’s parking lot. “What’s the latest on that hookup with the Feds?” Bolan asked after he’d filled Brognola in on their encounter with the local police.

      “Should be all set,” Brognola said. “I’ll email you the agent’s info and sat phone number. We’re trying to finalize a meeting time now. I’ll send the location as soon as I get it. I’ve also arranged all of your hardware—it will be delivered directly to the hotel. And I’ll see if Aaron can run a check on Le Pierre and that Dutch customs agent. What was his name again?”

      “J. Van der Hyden.” Bolan spelled it.

      “Got it. I’ll get back to you.”

      “Roger that,” Bolan said.

      He ended the call. Inside the main lobby, the clerk behind the polished teakwood counter was all smiles and efficiency. He offered them complimentary drink passes to the beach bar, and snapped his fingers at a bellman, telling him to carry the luggage up to their room.

      They stepped into an elevator with a glass wall that gave them a postcard perfect view of the beach and ocean. As they rose to the fourth floor, Bolan could see numerous piers with boats of various sizes tethered to the moorings.

      “They have boats over there to go fishing and diving?” he asked.

      The bellman nodded and flashed a wide smile. “Yes, sir. Fishing, diving, waterskiing, paragliding, anything you want. The concierge can arrange it for you. If you wish, I can have him call up to your room.”

      Bolan and Grimaldi exchanged looks. Special attention was not what they wanted right now.

      “Maybe later,” Grimaldi said. The elevator stopped and they moved down the hallway toward their room. It faced the ocean, and was much closer to the stairway than the elevator. Good for slipping in and out without drawing too much attention.

      “These bags are a bit heavier than they look, sir,” the bellman said.

      “Give the kid a nice tip, Matt,” Grimaldi said as he stuck the key card into the slot. “He’s earned it.”

      Bolan tipped the bellman, who continued to offer assistance in procuring anything, anything at all, that they might desire, including an introduction to some beautiful island girls who liked Americans.

      Bolan declined and closed the door.

      “Not so fast,” Grimaldi said. “That last part about the island girls sounded kind of interesting.”

      “We’re here to work,” Bolan said drily.

      The room was fairly expansive, with two beds, a wet bar built into one wall, and a lounge area. The drapes on the window were open, offering a perfect view of the ocean side.

      Bolan secured the dead bolt lock as he and Grimaldi continued their innocuous conversation about the nice flight and the pleasant drive from the airport. As they talked, Bolan pulled out his bug detection scanner and searched the room for any type of listening or recording devices. The scanner detected bugs in the bedroom, bathroom and lounge area.

      Grimaldi picked up the phone, dialing the main desk. “I’m sorry, this room won’t do,” he said as soon as the clerk answered.

      “Is there a problem, sir?”

      “Yeah,” he said. “There’s a strange smell in here, and my partner is very sensitive.”

      The clerk hemmed and hawed a bit, but when Grimaldi threatened to vacate the room and send an email to the bureau of travel and tourism, the man agreed to send up the bellman to show them to another suite.

      “Tell him to hurry up,” he said. “My partner’s getting nauseous and has a tendency to throw up when he gets a whiff of something rotten.”

      After five minutes of waiting, Grimaldi repeated his call to the front desk, this time inserting a bit more anger and outrage into his tone. The bellman’s knock came approximately a minute later. It was the same one as before, and he was carrying a large, locked suitcase.

      “Delivery for you, sir,” he said to Bolan.

      Bolan thanked him and grabbed the heavy case, giving it a quick once-over for signs of tampering. This had to be the weapons and gear Brognola had arranged a CIA contact to secure and drop off for them. The bellman picked up the remaining three bags and showed the men to another room on the same floor, at the opposite side of the building. It was close to a second stairwell. Grimaldi went in, checked it out and came back into the hall with a smile.

      “This one looks more suitable,” he said, grabbing the camera case. “Tip the kid, will you, Matt?”

      Bolan gave him some more money. “Here’s hoping we don’t see you again today.”

      The bellman looked down at the bills and flashed a big grin. “Oh, I don’t mind, sir. Not at all.” He placed the bags inside the room and left.

      Bolan locked the door and repeated his scan of the room. This time the device detected nothing, but he and Grimaldi did a thorough hands-on search just in case.

      “Looks clean,” Bolan said.

      “It does,” Grimaldi agreed. “Seems like somebody was expecting us,” he said as he unzipped his suitcase. “Le Pierre, you think?”

      Bolan shook his head. “Hard to say at this point, but I’m not sure our little buddy Le Pierre would have the means to set up that kind of sophisticated bugging equipment.”

      They unpacked quickly, knowing that Brognola had arranged a meeting somewhere on the island with the FBI agent.

      Inside Bolan’s case case were the slide, barrel, pin and recoil spring of Bolan’s field-striped Beretta 93R, along with four fully loaded magazines. Next, he removed a supply of additional ammunition and a folded Espada knife, which he clipped to his belt so it was concealed inside his pants. Finally, he pulled out the upper and barrel portions of a SIG Sauer forty caliber P226 and handed it to Grimaldi.

      Jack grinned wryly as he assembled the weapon. “Maybe I should’ve shown Capitaine Le Pierre that mine’s bigger than his.”

      “Why crush the guy’s already fragile ego?” Bolan said, putting together the Beretta. In a matter of seconds both men had their pistols fully assembled. Bolan checked the safety, inserted a magazine and racked back the slide to chamber a round. He then released the magazine and pressed another round in place, assuring a full load. As usual, two of the clips held standard ammunition, with jacketed ball and hollowpoints alternated, and the other two held special ammunition. One was marked with green to indicate frangible ammunition that was designed to avoid overpenetration, and the other contained armor-piercing rounds. Grimaldi sorted out a similar array of ammo and loaded his SIG, using the decocking lever to place it on safe.