Slingshot

Slingshot

A Mac McKenzie Novel of Intrigue, Suspense and Mystery

Slingshot

James Casey

Smashwords Edition

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Published by:

James Casey on Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Slingshot

Copyright © 2013, by James Casey

All Rights Reserved.

ISBN: 9781301523467

Also by James Casey

Hornet’s Nest

Glacier Lake

Be sure to visit the official website of James Casey Books at:

http://tinyurl.com/jacbooks

Thank you for downloading this eBook.

Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. All characters and story content herein are fictitious.

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Dedicated with love to my greatest supporter and assistant, Marilyn.

Slingshot

Boston, Massachusetts

Monday afternoon, June 18

Damn, don't they ever fill in these potholes around here? I exclaimed to the cabbie, as he went hell-bent down the side streets. With a typical Boston brogue, the cabbie tilts his head and looking in the rear-view mirror says, These are the good streets mister. We haven't even hit the bad ones yet.

I thought to myself, I had crash landings in the Navy softer than this.

Shortly I had arrived at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel at Boston Common, I flipped the driver a twenty and jumped out, not waiting for change.

I walk up to the hotel entry, and the doorman mumbles something to me. I respond, With all this street noise and building going on around here, I can't hear a word you say to me. Could you repeat yourself in a little louder tone this time, for the hearing impaired I thought to myself. The doorman repeats, Welcome to the Ritz-Carlton, the registration desk is just to your left sir

With light foot traffic and a scent of gardenia in the air, I approach the registration counter, Reservation for Mac McKenzie, please.

The desk clerk bangs on the keyboard and in a few seconds, he says, I have you in Room 5301, Mr. McKenzie. Here is your room key-card and the bellhop will assist you to your room. If there is anything we can provide for you, please let me know. Thank you for staying with us at the Ritz-Carleton.

I headed right up to my room; tipped the bellboy; locked the door and immediately went over to the bar and made myself a Tanqueray and tonic. The world's best relaxer in my humble opinion anyhow.

I then proceed to get a change of clothes. Up grade a little from the flight 'suit', my casual flying clothes to a normal business suit.

Once I completed my peel-off and shakedown, I proceed to make a couple of phone calls to catch-up on my communications back at the home office.

As I walk off of the elevator, I spot my appointment sitting in the lobby.

Hello, Mark, I said.

Good to see you again Mac. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me here today.

Mac, I have an issue with the shipment of gold and silver coming in from Amsterdam.

How’s that Mark?

You aware of the Feds and the Interpol undercover tracking of these goods, aren’t you?

Sure am.

Mark Wilson and I reflected on our younger days, in the U.S. Navy. We had been in naval ordinance together in our last five years of service. We were accepted for the Navy SEAL special ops program. On a number of occasions we had worked together as a team; at other times on a solo basis on separate assignments. Upon our discharge, I had joined with the CIA. Mark had applied and been accepted with the FBI. In 2005, I left the CIA and struck out on my own. Well, kinda on my own. Actually I worked under an associate for the first three years, learning the ‘tricks-of-the-trade’ all the while gathering a great degree of experience in the private investigative field. When my mentor was ready to retire, he sold the business to me, and here I am ─ Matthew L. McKenzie, Private Investigations.

Mark on the other hand had remained with the FBI, and worked out of New York City. Over the past few years, we both had been fortunate enough to work on a few assignments together. Mark was a real trooper, a real asset to any investigation, and what made it so good, is we both worked well with each other. Not always agreeing of course, but working for the final positive outcome to our benefit and also for our clients and bosses. Now because Mark had contacted me, I find we are once again in the same boat, and working for the same cause in the end. I had been contracted to assist Mark and the investigation relative to the size, scope, and extent of the Europa Trading Company operations.

What can we do to make this Fed-Interpol thing disappear, and insure we will not have any surprises pop up on us? Mark said, shaking his head and looking down for a moment.

Don’t worry Mark, I have it all handled. You just do as I direct, keep your head, as I know you always do, with Mansfield and Europa, and things will go smooth for us, I said.

I have been able, over the past six months, to work my way into the heart of Europa Trading, it has been hard and it has been tiresome, but a necessary step, Mark states, and with a slight pause then continues, My concern, is that if the Bureau or any of the other feds get word, they will interjects themselves right into the middle of this, and it will then just all go to hell in a handbag. I don't want them involved yet. Maybe later ...yes. But not at this point. I have a good handle on Europa, and I want to get to the bottom of it and their organization, before they sniff out trouble and they will take themselves underground. I have worked damn hard to get what I have on them and to the point where I am Mac. And at this time, I really feel that you and I can bring the answers to the surface.

How did you pull that off?

I infiltrated one of the operations of Europa Trading in New York City. I was able to get myself in a position to the inside of Europa Trading. With this, I was able to position myself for this assignment. I went from the small potatoes of a couple of their smaller jobs, to the golden goose─this operation. In fact, old Willy and I are best friends nowadays. Mansfield thinks that I am 'one-of-the-boys' now. He has no knowledge of my attachment with the FBI. I got in with the Longshoremen there in New York City, over the past two and a half years, and I have worked on a number of illegal smuggling and illicit materials operations. One of the major players in this has been Europa Trading. That is why I am here.

Hey, cool Mark! I like that kind of action. No wonder I like working with you, " I said with a hearty chuckle.

Matthew Logan McKenzie, known as Matt during his childhood days, and for the rest of his thirty-six years, he has been more commonly known as 'Mac'. He had a storied career in the Navy SEALS, the CIA, private investigations, surveillance and reconnaissance. Mac had proven his efficiency and ability to handle the tough jobs, the hard work of a PI, and he had excelled at it. At six-foot-one, about one-hundred-ninety pounds, he was very agile and quick. His dark brown hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion enhanced his manly physique and build. Mac looked forward to working with Mark Wilson once again, as he always felt that they were like, as he jokingly mentioned to Mark once, a dynamic duo.

Chapter 2

As the cargo ship, NV Nomadic Sergen, out of Amsterdam and flying the British flag, prepares to tie-up along side the Boston harbor cargo wharf, Chief Cargo Officer, Benjamin Ashton oversees the dockside operations, barking out his orders in his deep, harsh, old English brogue.

Once the ship is made snug and the crew is ready to disembark for some free time in the city, before the Nomadic Sergen sails the short distance south to the New York-New Jersey harbor area in a couple of days. Then they will begin their return voyage back across the pond with a new East bound load. Benny sets up for the unloading process to begin immediately with the dockworkers.

After about two-hours, a small container is next in line to be lifted and placed on the dock. Benny calls down to the dock master, and directs him to place this container over to the side, by itself. The dock master gives Benny a thumbs up, and nods his head.

* * *

It is a cool day for summer, but with the light fog now burning off, the sun and blue of the sky make it a debut for a pleasing effect, and the gentle breeze was pleasant.

Arriving at Hancock Building, John Treat takes the elevator to the fifty-eighth floor, where he sees an office sign alongside the entryway door reading, Europa Trading Company above the sign for the office of Sellers, Mansfield and Ellensberg, Attorneys at Law.

John Treat is an affable man of forty-five, who works for the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. He has been with Homeland Security for six years and works with the Boston regional office of DHS.

He approaches the lobby desk, John Treat to see Mr. Mansfield, please.

He stands to the side, and after a three-minute wait, Treat is escorted into the office of Willard Mansfield.

John! Good to see you again! Gee, what has it been? About eighteen months or so, isn’t it? states Mansfield.

Twenty-two months is closer Willy. Likewise, it is good to see you again too, John said.

Well, I assume you are here for us to discuss that special shipment coming in, says Willy.

You got it. In fact, I just got off the phone with Benny a little while ago, and he is here, along with the goods. They are both on shore, so we need to move on this post haste, John said with a serious and deliberate tone in his voice.

Willy responds, I spoke to Ashton also and he relayed the same info my way. I have Frank and Roger, you do remember them don’t you? Frank Walton and Roger Deering, the two blokes that worked with us a couple of years ago on one of those prior shipments, as you may recall.

Oh yeah, I remember both of them, they always seemed squared-headed and able to follow orders. So they are taking receipt of the container and its contents, is that correct?

Un-huh, they will arrange for the transport of the gold and silver by a Penske truck rental. It is all set up.

John continues to stare at Willy for a few seconds, and then he says, When are these boys supposed to contact you?

I expect to hear from them around seven o’clock or so, this evening. Once I get that call, I will be in touch right away with you John.

Sounds good. I will be waiting for your call

* * *

Frank and Roger pull up in a Penske large box rental truck on the dock down by the NV Nomadic Sergen. Benny guides the truck into position as it is backing up to the container. When Benny breaks the container seal, he gives the metallic seal-band to Frank. The doors on the container are swung open, and the grins spread from big to ecstatic on the three of them. Benny hopped on the forklift and wheeled it around the container to begin the unloading/loading of the container to the truck.

After fifty-minutes, the Penske truck was fully loaded and Frank along with Roger was in it and on their way out of the harbor district. Along with those, big shit eating grins they just could not seem to remove from their faces. Boy, this has us sitting real pretty, doesn’t it Frank? asks Roger, as they drive through the gate and onto the main harbor transit road, heading to their off-site destination. Frank gives Roger a big toothy grin and nods his head up and down several times.

As they drove cautiously toward the warehouse for storage of their cargo, they come to a slow-down in the traffic. They are barely creeping along, when there is a cop giving directions, telling them to detour to their left, onto a narrow side street. Roger asks, Damn, Frank, why are we detoured off of the road, and the rest of the cars were allowed to continue on?

Glancing over to Rodger with a quizzical look, Frank says, Hell if I know Roger. I never did see any real work going on back there. After a slight pause, he continues, We need to get back up to Commonwealth Roger. Shouldn’t there be some directional arrows to lead us back on track?

You’d think, huh?

A couple hundred feet further down the street, Hey Frank! Look there is an arrow! Looks like we go right here.

Frank wheels the truck right onto another tight side street, and all of sudden, there is a street barricade blocking further travel. Frank brings the truck to a stop. Looking around, they try to figure what is going on.

Hey Roger, hop out and see if that barricade is movable. Can we can turn around, or do we have to back out of here for chrissakes.

Roger steps down to the street; walks up to the barricade and looks around, shaking his head. Suddenly, three men jump out from behind some large bushes along the street, pointing their 9mm Rugers' at Roger, one of the other men motion for Frank to climb out of the truck and get down there with them, which he proceeds to do.

After a further detour and some action in the rear of the Penske truck by the three that hijacked Frank and Roger, things had now quieted down. It had been several hours and one of the older men, came around and unleashed Frank and Roger from the interior truck stanchion they had been fastened to. Okay, you two. You can now hop into your truck and continue on your journey. We only lightened a little of your load. Thanks by the way. Now go and be gone with you.

At which Frank and Roger moved fast, jumping into the cab of the truck, started it up and began backing out, before anyone happened to change their mind about letting them go.

As they drive away, one of the younger guys says to the older one that had released Frank and Roger from captivity, What the hell do you think you are doing? They will turn us in and then we will be in deep kim-chee!

You don’t really think that now do you? Those two guys are not going anywhere close to cops. What they have is not exactly legit, and they are not going to send themselves down the river for something that is not legal for them to begin with. Besides, they think they still have the majority of it with them. Nope, we’ll not hear anymore from those two clowns. Now, let’s clean up and get this load outta here.

* * *

Frank and Roger pull the Penske truck into their rented warehouse, and open the rear doors of the truck. Spotting what looks to be the majority of the boxes and crates still in place, they close the rear doors and wait for their associate to arrive