Glen & Tyler's High Seas Hijinks (Glen & Tyler Adventures Book 4) Read online

  Jeremy flinched but didn’t look back at Tyler. “Not about Tyler. That was my Dad and my Stepmother. And an excuse, so that I … well, so that I could dodge Tyler’s security guys and meet you on my own.”

  Levin’s face cracked a little, the hint of a smile peeking out. “You dodged top-flight security just to meet me?”

  Jeremy nodded, obviously not trusting his voice.

  Levin smiled. “Ok.”

  Jeremy took in a breath. “Forgiven?”

  “Yeah, of course. Always.” Levin looked abashed. “Besides, I wasn’t exactly straight with you.”

  “Really?” Jeremy drawled, gesturing at the wetsuit Levin wore.

  “I, uh. I’m kind of a spy.” Levin looked embarrassed.

  “Kind of?” Jeremy’s expression was no-nonsense.

  Crichton snorted. “He’s an infiltration specialist and an expert at breaking security systems.”

  Everyone looked at Crichton.

  “What? He’s a support agent. We trained at the Farm together.” Crichton shrugged. “I have no idea what he’s doing here, or why he’s using his goddamn real name. Amateur hour crap, Charlie.”

  “I met Jeremy in my everyday life, Tony, not on the job. I came down here looking for Tom — he’s a friend of mine and I got word that he dropped out of the picture during an operation on the island. Then I found out he’d died and that you were still out here in the wind, possibly without backup.” Levin shrugged. “I had to come down.” He turned to Jeremy. “I’m sorry, I should have told you more of the truth.”

  “I understand, believe me. And obviously we were both loose with the truth.” Jeremy looked over at Tyler. “But what made you think my little brother was bad guy?”

  Levin looked over at Tyler, too. “I got information from a friend that some kind of consolidation was going on down here in smuggling circles and then when I talked to some UK friends of mind, I found out Conrad is related by blood to the Dunberry crowd. Big time smugglers.” Levin shrugged. “Looks like I got some bad information. Sorry.”

  Tyler waved it away. “No sweat.”

  “I really am sorry, Jeremy.” Levin was looking at Jeremy with a pleading look in his face.

  Jeremy hugged him again.

  After a moment, Tyler cleared his throat pointedly. “We’re on the clock here, guys.”

  “You are such a pain in my ass.” Jeremy pointed at Tyler.

  “I’m a pain? I uprooted my much-needed sailing vacation so I could come rescue your ass.”

  “I didn’t need rescuing.”

  “Yeah, well, we know that now but everything looked like he’d kidnapped you. Well, kind of looked like it, anyway. You scared me.”

  “Sorry, Tyler. I didn’t think—“

  “—Yeah, I got that.”

  “Boys.” Glen waved a hand between them. “You already made up, move on.”

  Tyler turned to Charlie. “Ok, first off, you treat my brother badly and I’ll screw up your life so bad, you’ll be on a first name basis with your IRS agent.”

  “Tyler.” Jeremy sounded half aggrieved and half amused.

  “Second, nice to finally meet Jeremy’s boyfriend. Welcome to the family.” Tyler put out his hand, and after a second, Charlie shook it.

  “Well, your family certainly isn’t boring.” Charlie made an exasperated face.

  “You have no idea.” Jeremy said, ruefully.

  ***

  Later, after their guests had been plied with sufficient drink and then moved off to their various cabins, Glen and Tyler regrouped in the lounge.

  “Ooh, you know what this means?” Tyler looked at Glen with a smile.

  Glen grinned back. “We’re teaming up again!”

  Tim growled. “So help me, if you two fist bump, I’m calling in the hipster police.”

  Tyler made a pfft noise. “That’s not how we do things anymore — we’re not bros, we’re husbands.”

  To punctuate this point, Tyler grabbed Glen by the waist, pulled him over and kissed him soundly.

  They only pulled apart when James coughed discreetly.

  “What’s next?” Tim activated the big screen, and got the computer attached to it. “We’ve got the Jeremy thing more or less settled, what are we doing about the smugglers and pirates problem?”

  “Well, as far as the President’s main job is concerned, we’re done.” Tyler put his feet up on the table.

  Glen smiled. “But you’re not letting it go at that, are you?”

  “Hell no! They shot at me.” Tyler motioned to Tim. “Let’s make a list. Here’s what we need to figure out: how are they capturing ships mid-ocean, how do we attract their attention, and how can we fulfill that last little request of our Special Friend?”

  Glen frowned. “I think the first thing we need to do is get ahold of that list that’s apparently floating around.”

  Tyler nodded. “Good thinking. That’s also something which will attract attention, if we can find it. So, where was it last?”

  “On the person of a man killed in a car crash.” Tim poked some keys. “And that body is now …. Huh.”

  “What?” Tyler said.

  Tim did some more fiddling on the computer. “You’re an information broker peddling a list of undercover US agents in the area. Do you carry it around on your person when you’re trying to sell it to multiple bad guys?”

  “No.” Glen said.

  “Ok, but knowing that everyone will assume you’ve hidden it somewhere, what do you do?” Tim had a half-smile on his face.

  “Oooh!” Tyler got up and paced. “You quietly put stuff in your hotel safe, or maybe in a bank safe deposit vault, but load them up with decoys. Preferably encrypted decoys so even if they get ahold of them, it’ll take bad guys time to figure out they were duped. In the mean time, you carry the list on you in a way that would pass even a close inspection.”

  Tim nodded. “This is fun, I can see why you like doing this.”

  Tyler smiled. “Yeah, it’s a blast when you’re on the giving end, not so much on the receiving end.”

  “Remember that next time, boss.” Tim grinned, then went back to being serious. “So something on the guy’s person when he was killed in the car crash is a hidden electronic device or hell, maybe even something old-school like microdots.”

  “So we just need to bribe a morgue attendant to steal his effects, right?” Glen looked around. “Or even better, if we can have Excalibur access a list of his personal effects online, we can probably just bribe the guy for the one or two items that are most likely.”

  “Exactly, my husband.” Tyler kissed him. “You’re brilliant.”

  “Hey!” Tim said.

  “I’m not kissing you.” Tyler said with mock severity. “But I will give you another raise.”

  Tim nodded regally. “Done.”

  A Long Walk on a Short Pier

  The wind off the ocean was slightly more than a breeze and Glen was getting a bit cold, even in his tailored tropical-weight suit. Waves lapped hungrily against the timbers of the pier and provided a regular rhythm to the song stuck in Glen’s head. On top of that, the pier seemed to magnify the sea smells: dead fish, salt, and damp wood.

  Tyler sighed. “Why is it that guys selling illicit stuff are always late?”

  Glen shrugged. “They hang back and scope it out before they show themselves. Standard paranoid operating procedure.”

  “Oh.” Tyler gave a short laugh. “I never actually thought about that.”

  “That’s because you have trouble with fear.”

  “What? I don’t have any fear. Or very little.”

  Glen smiled at his husband. “Yes, and sometimes, that’s your trouble.”

  A man in chinos and a tropical shirt stepped into the light at the land end of the pier. He regarded them for a moment, and then walked towards them.

  In Glen’s earpiece, and James said softly: “Designate target one. Positions six through eight, track him. Perimeter, do a sweep for anyone t
hat came with him.”

  The man stopped ten feet away. He was thin, forty-ish, and kind of geeky looking. Glen thought of him as Morgue Guy.

  The man looked surprised. “Uh, hey, aren’t you Tyler Conrad?”

  Tyler nodded. “Yup. You have it?”

  “Uh.” Morgue Guy looked around. “Is this some kind of big setup? I don’t want to be on TV.”

  Tyler gestured dismissively. “No worries. We’re just trying to help a friend recover some items that were stolen from him without raising a lot of fuss. It’s delicate.”

  Morgue Guy thought about this a moment. “Ok. You have the cash?”

  In reply, Tyler pulled a large stack of Bermudian dollars. “Yup.”

  The man eyed it for a moment. “Set it down and move back.”

  Tyler looked amused and not a little exasperated. “Ok, first, I want to see the damned stuff. Second, there’s no ‘back’, we’re at the end of the damned pier.”

  The man nervously pulled a small rectangular pendant on a loop of wire from his pocket and a fancy metal pen. He waved them.

  “Yeah, ok, those are what we want. Why don’t we both step forward and swap them for the cash?”

  Morgue Guy swallowed nervously. “But he stays there.” He pointed at Glen.

  “Sure.” Tyler started walking forward, and stopped halfway.

  Morgue Guy stepped forward nervously, and then slowly held out the pendant and pen. Tyler handed him the cash, and took the items. He looked at them, while the man checked the bills. Both satisfied, they walked back to their starting positions.

  “Not a word about this,” Morgue Guy said.

  “Perish the thought.” Tyler replied.

  The man nodded and walked back up the pier.

  “Well, that was remarkably simple. Let’s go figure out how these work.” Tyler held up the square metal necklace and old-fashioned writing pen.

  Well That's Just Silly

  They were in the Black Douglas’ lounge after lunch. They had figured out that the pendant was just a hidden USB flash drive. They’d carefully passed the contents along to Rosa and her team to decrypt. Meanwhile, they were in the middle of deliberations for the “plan” to use the list as bait, which hadn’t gotten very far, but so far involved helicopters, submarines, and a dolphin.

  The phone rang.

  Tim pressed the receive button on the speakerphone. Caller ID lit up several screens.

  “Hey, Nanna. What have you got for us?” Tyler leaned forward excitedly.

  “Vassily, that old goat, sent me the most fascinating email. I forwarded the relevant pictures to your Excalibur bunch.”

  In the background, Tim started typing on one of the computers.

  “Relevant pictures, Nanna? What were the others?” Tyler quirked an eyebrow at the phone.

  “You kids didn’t invent taking pictures of your genitals, though I wish you had.” Nanna’s voice was drier than her martini.

  The whole table winced.

  “Wow, Nanna, thanks for that.”

  “Any time, Tyler. Now get out there and fix this. These are some smart cookies, but they’re up against you. Don’t let them fucking forget that.”

  The speaker clicked, and went to a dial tone. James pressed the off button.

  “Huh.” Tim pressed the remote for the big screen TV, which lit up, and showed naval blue prints.

  Everyone regarded the plans for a moment, then Tim advanced to the next slide, and there was a collective grunt.

  “That’s … just silly.” Tyler said.

  “Who thinks up crap like this?” Tim shook his head. “I mean, does that even work?”

  They regarded the plans for another moment. Several of them turned their heads to one side, and then the other.

  “Well, it obviously has worked and several times. The point is, what are we going to do about it?”

  Glen tapped on the table thoughtfully. “I think I have an idea — and you might even like it.”

  Not Pirates

  They drove up to the apparently abandoned cannery in a few rented vehicles. It had taken some doing to find exactly what they needed but between Tim’s naval connections, Rosa’s friends, and Nanna’s cronies, they’d unearthed a covert facility on the island of Bermuda that had just what they needed.

  The quiet anonymous side door to the giant building beeped and popped open when Tucker, the CIA guy, swiped his odd and intimidating grey card in the reader next to it.

  The building was monstrous, both in size and appearance, like some beached sea creature that had expired after a fight with Godzilla. Its windows were universally grimy and dark. It was halfway between a warehouse and a dock, perched directly on the water, and it wore its abandonment like a shroud.

  Tucker opened the door and stepped inside. Glen, Tyler, and the guys followed along behind.

  Tyler looked around. “Not much to look at inside.”

  It was a bland office corridor, which looked like every other bland office corridor everywhere, circa 1972 or so. Dingy grey linoleum covered the floor, the walls were painted lackluster grey with maroon highlights, and overhead were quietly buzzing fluorescent lights. There were faux-wood doors at either end of the corridor and a large mirror across from the door.

  From either end of the corridor, the doors opened, and men in heavy body armor pointed submachine guns at them.

  A voice came over speakers, undoubtedly mounted above the lights, loud and vaguely angry. “Halt! This is a lethal force area! Comply immediately with all orders or you will be fired upon.”

  Tucker looked concerned.

  Tyler looked into the large mirror. “Gentlemen. Sorry for the interruption. Executive order 115678, as you should see on your security screen. I would like to speak to the man in charge. ”

  ***

  They were shown into a small waiting room. It was like the place relatives wait while you’re interrogated in a far-less-nice interview room.

  Tucker paced. “I can’t believe you just walked into a covert high-security facility.”

  Tyler made a pfft noise. “Oh please, you think this is the first time I’ve done that? I do visits like this every other month or so.”

  Tucker regarded Tyler as if he were insane. “Why?”

  “Well, I own about fifteen places like this and I like to keep my security people on their toes. And then there are a few side trips for friends…” Tyler gestured around them. “Like this.”

  One of the two doors in the room opened, not the one they’d come through. An older man, in his late fifties or early sixties, and wearing a US Navy uniform, stepped inside. He was flanked by some well-armed marines, also in uniform. He looked around and then came over to Tyler.

  “Mr. Conrad. Your security letter, please.“

  Tyler silently handed him the letter. He waited as the Navy Rear Admiral, who did not wear a name plate or any patches showing his current assignment, read through the letter. Twice.

  “Any questions, Admiral?” Tyler put his hands in his pockets.

  “I’ll have to confirm the letter.”

  “Please do. I’m sorry to bother with this you but I assure you my need is urgent.” Tyler shrugged.

  Five minutes later, the Admiral was back.

  He handed the letter to Tyler, who handed it off to Tucker.

  “What can we do for you Mr. Conrad?” The Admiral sounded unhappy.

  “We need the Hippo for a day or two.”

  The Admiral frowned. “We haven’t even had her official maiden voyage yet, or fully tested her engines.”

  “Consider this her coming out party, if you want.” Tyler said softly. “I understand your rancor, but trust me when I say this is a very serious matter of national security and we’ll take good care of the Hippo.”

  The Admiral sighed. “Alright, this way.”

  He showed them out the door he’d come in, and along to another door. It led out to a catwalk looking out over a large dock area, currently filled with water and well-
lit. A sleek yacht was berthed there. It looked modern, stylish, and utterly normal.

  “You can have five of my crew, and two marines for security—“

  “No, thank you, Admiral. We won’t need them. My men and women are qualified, and all the security we’ll need for this trip.”

  The Admiral sighed. “Then I insist you at least take me with you. I can insist on that much. You’ll need someone who knows the ship.”

  Tyler grinned. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Admiral, though I should warn you that we’ll be taking you into harms way.”

  The Admiral nodded. “I’ll bring my gun.”

  A Horse By Any Other Name

  On board the Hippo, they clustered in the ship’s sleek bridge.

  Tyler, Tim, Kevin, and James were dressed in black combat gear. The Admiral — who had yet to reveal even his first name — was dressed in borrowed gear but carried his own weapons. Glen and Bertie were dressed normally but they’d shortly be boarding a pink sub for the trip back to the Douglas. A lot more of their security folks were aboard the Hippo but since they didn’t fit into the bridge, they’d get their briefing from their squad leaders.

  Glen leaned over display, pointing as he spoke. “Ok, so here’s the plan again, just to make sure everyone knows the part they’re going to play. The security forces and you, Admiral, will hide yourselves aboard the Hippo. Tyler and James will take the Hippo to the designated rendezvous point. Tyler has arranged with LeMans to hand over the list as an apology for the beach barbecue incident. We expect that they’ll be coming to get the ship. Once at the rendezvous, Tyler and James will also hide themselves. After the Hippo is aboard their ship, our forces will use the interior double hull space and various air ducts to travel to critical locations, then take over the vessel. Questions?”

  The Admiral raised a hand. “How exactly is the Hippo going to board another ship?”

  “It would take too long to explain completely, Admiral, but we expect the ship they’ll be sending to be like a repair ship — capable mid-sea of taking another ship on board.” Glen brought up the plans that Nanna had sent them.