Twenty

Disinformation

The one thing that Hammerhead and Whale did right was to carefully monitor VHF radio channel sixty eight at all times. Even as they sat in the Sand Dollar Bar on Green Turtle Cay, they tuned in on a battery-powered, hand held radio. The bartender, retired civil servant Bonita Pindar, called Bonnie by people who knew her, had been tolerating these two wharf rats for the past two days. The first day Hammerhead and Whale arrived, they foolishly bragged about their intention to attempt an assault on the San Pedro. Bonnie, as well as just about everyone else in Abaco and half the residents of the rest of the Bahamas Islands, was aware of the archaeological excavation that was going on in their waters. Who were these dirt bags who were out to mess things up?

Bonnie excused herself from the bar and walked over to the marina office where she could be assured of privacy. She sat at the dockmaster’s desk and dialed from memory the number of the Royal Bahamas Defense Force office in Nassau. She made it through three levels of secretaries and clerks before she was able to talk to someone who could really help her. The private secretary to Virgil Price was keenly interested in what Bonnie had to say. She asked for the number from which she was calling and asked her to stay there and wait for a few minutes for a telephone call. Bonnie agreed and sat back looking out over the marina, waiting to see what would happen. She was not the least bit disappointed. The telephone came to life in less than three minutes. She picked it up on the first ring.

“Is this Bonita Pindar?” asked the strong and refined voice at the other end.

“This is Bonnie Pindar,” she replied. “With whom am I speaking?” she asked.

“This is Virgil Price,” came the reply. “I am the Superintendent of the Royal Bahamas Defense Force and I have been told that you have information for me.”

“Mr. Price, yes I do,” came the reply of the now very nervous Bonita Pindar. She was speaking with the man, himself. She needed a minute to catch her breath.

“Hello, Mrs. Pindar, are you there?” asked Virgil.

Bonnie took two very deep cleansing breaths and replied in a squeaky, airless voice, “I do not know how much this would interest you, but there are two men in my bar who seem to be plotting to steal some treasure from that sunken ship they’re working on off Abaco.”

“I am on that site right now,” responded Virgil. “Do you know who these men are and when they plan this assault? Please tell me everything you know.”

“One of the men is called Whale, I don’t know the other one. They sat here most of the day yesterday and today monitoring broadcasts between something called the barge and two boats, one called Conchy Lady and the other called Bimini Twist. If you are planning to move the barge, they already know that. I think they are taking delivery on a new boat soon and plan to visit the treasure ship as soon as possible. Does that information help you?”

“Very much, Mrs. Pindar. I’d like you to write down these three telephone numbers. The first is the number of the Defense Force barracks on Great Guana. Those are the guards who are responsible for security on the dive site.” He recited the number and then continued. “The second number is the residence of Skeeter and Susan Pincus. They manage the dive operation on the site and will know what to do if you call.” Virgil gave the telephone number of the Pincus residence and then a third number. “This is my personal cell phone number. Please feel free to use it, too.”

“Mr. Price,” said Bonnie, “these men have been spending a lot of time in my bar. Do you want me to question them and then report to you?”

“I’d be afraid you might make them suspicious and then place yourself in danger. It’s not a good idea.”

“But Mr. Price,” she urged, “usually by mid afternoon they have drunk too much and they start bragging. It would take no effort at all to get them to wag their tongues.”

“Well, if you’re going to do it,” said Virgil, “please be very careful. And please be very careful when you report back to us. I know Hammerhead and Whale seem harmless, but they both have long criminal records and you can not trust what they might do.”

“Then I’ll just be very careful. You know how bar flies like to talk to the bartender when they drink too much. These guys are no different. And I’m a good listener.”

Virgil reiterated his caution about raising any suspicions, and in the last moment, finished up with a few specifics. He asked to be called when she saw the men in the new boat. He would need to give Skeeter, Cameron and Max its description. They discussed a few final details and rang off. This was very important news to the operation and Virgil wanted to make certain that it was used to its best advantage.

Bonnie returned to her Sand Bar to see that Hammerhead and Whale were still there, only their glasses were empty. As she walked behind the bar, she greeted them, “Gentlemen, sorry to keep you waiting. This round is on the house.” The men greeted this news with enthusiasm and smiled while Bonita Pindar poured out triple strength rum cocktails.

As soon as Virgil hung up, he huddled with Cameron, Skeeter and Max. “There has been a breakthrough with respect to the pirate situation. I just got off the phone with a woman in Green Turtle Cay who says Hammerhead and Whale have been spending time in her bar. Apparently they monitor everything we say on the VHF radio. They know every move we make and they also know about our plans to move the barge.”

Max was the first to respond, “We need to immediately begin a program of changing channels so that they can not monitor our transmissions and our movements.” Virgil, Skeeter and Cameron all looked at him disappointedly. “What? You don’t like that idea?”

“Think, Max,” said Cameron. “They’re listening to us. If we change channels they won’t be able to listen to us any longer.”

“But isn’t that what we want, to guard our transmissions?”

Skeeter answered, “I think what Cameron is referring to is that, now that we have their attention, we have the advantage of being able to feed them disinformation. We have the upper hand.”

Feeling foolish, Max looked at the other three men. The plan was perfectly sensible. Embarrassed he said, “I wish I’d thought of that.”

Skeeter, of all people, was the one to clap him on the back and tongue-in-cheek say, “That’s our job. That’s why they pay us the big bucks.”

The gesture made Max feel better. He laughed as did Cameron and Virgil. It put an end to Max’ embarrassment, so he relaxed and listened to what Virgil had to say.

“We will have an advantage if we can encourage them to make their move the day after tomorrow. The seas will be kicked up and they will not be able to maneuver around as well. I believe they will still try to make the dive, even if the conditions are awful. It will be more difficult for them which will in turn be easier for us.”

“Since they’re monitoring our transmissions, let’s go ahead and set it up,” said Cameron.

“Let’s do it,” said Skeeter.

Max picked up the radio and keyed the mike, “Conchy Lady, Bimini Twist, over.” He handed the mike to Skeeter.

“Come in Bimini Twist,” he replied, handing the mike back to Max.

Max keyed the handset, “Skeeter, I just got an update on that storm. It looks like trouble.”

Hammerhead Riley and Whale Mills were on full alert. They were only three or four sips into their triple rum drinks, so they were still intently listening to the conversation. Bonnie Pindar observed, feigning disinterest from the opposite end of the bar.

“The front is stalling over Orlando, Florida and may not make it here soon enough to push the tropical storm away. The storm itself is gaining strength and getting organized. It is expected to be a hurricane by tomorrow and could be in our neighborhood in three days.”

Skeeter took the mike from Max and keyed it. “I know we can’t do much to change things, but I don’t like being this vulnerable. We’ll just have time to secure all those gold bars and silver ingots and clear out of here. We’ll need everybody to help us move the barge tomorrow.” He handed the microphone to Max.

Max held down the key and spoke into the handset, “What about security? Everything is out in the open. What do you suggest we do?”

Skeeter took the mike and answered, “Tomorrow night, after Conchy Lady tows the barge into the protected water, it’ll have to come back out here for the night.”

Max called back, “What about the following night?”

“We’ll just have to be vulnerable, at least until the storm passes and we can get back on station. If the storm is a direct hit we could have five foot seas by the day after tomorrow and easily twelve to fifteen on the following day.”

“Ten-four,” replied Max. “I guess you can’t be secure all the time. I’ll see you back at Great Guana.”

Skeeter took the mike from Max and transmitted, “Ten-four, Max. Conchy Lady, out.”

“OK, that should do it,” said Virgil. “Now the fact is, we still need to secure the site and the barge between today and tomorrow.”

“Actually,” said Max. “The weather forecast is not that bad. The front is not stalled and it is believed that it will be here in time to move the center of the hurricane to the east. Don’t misunderstand me, we’re in for some torrid weather, but not full hurricane force winds for a sustained period.”

“That’s a relief,” said Skeeter. “You don’t know how much hurricanes spook us around here.”

“We’ll probably dodge the worst of this one,” said Max. “But we still need to continue what we are doing. It’s going to be a wicked blow.”

On Green Turtle Cay, Hammerhead was hammered. The two triple strength drinks that followed the four beers he had earlier, did him in. As best he could, he smiled at Bonnie and slurred a goodbye. Whale was in a little better shape, so he helped his companion down the path. When they got to their motel room there was a message for them to contact the main desk. Hammerhead fell into bed while Whale walked over to the reception area for the message. Mr. Riley and Mr. Mills were to go to the dockmaster’s office. Mr. Riley was in no condition to go anywhere, so Mr. Mills complied with the message.

At the marina office, Whale Mills was given the news that the charter company had received a money wire in the amount of $9,000 from Nassau and the chartered Ocean Master would be delivered in the morning. He could not believe his good fortune. He had the inside scoop on when the treasure would be unguarded, he had a great new boat that could easily stand six to eight feet seas on the night of his raid on the galleon, and he had the rest of the day off so he could sleep off the drunkenness that would soon turn to a hangover. He returned to the room where Hammerhead was passed out on the bed. Everything in his world was perfect. Time for a siesta.