Stone, The Man

STONE, THE MAN TWO

The Sequel

By Rodney Hart

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Rodney Hart

Original Copyright: 1999

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.

Chapter 1

I stood beside Tank glaring at Ramon. My mind was fogging with hate, my teeth were gritted tightly together and my fingers closed tight into a fist. I saw Andrea’s face and remembered her innocent smile. The pain was eating at my insides. My anger was burning and my palms were sweating.

I held a tight grip upon the .38 in my right hand as if it were the final remedy to avenge Andrea’s death.

Tank spoke, holding tight onto his gun.

Do you know who this man is, Ramon Hernandez?

He pointed to me.

Let me refresh your stinking memory, slime.

Tank’s sweaty, shiny face was without expression, his emotions hidden behind a mask of bitterness, prejudice and contempt, then, like a merciless master kicking his cringing dog, Tank’s foot slammed swiftly between Ramon’s legs. He doubled over. Vomit belched out of his mouth and over his legs.

Dat donn feel too good, do it? Tank said bitterly, his expression like stone.

Ramon screamed as Tank’s foot connected into ribs of his left side, I heard the distinct sound of bones cracking and his hands came quickly to his side.

"Now, it bes time to member, Den you bes knowin why we bring you here to die, Ramon Hernandez.

Take a good look at this man. Tank said, pointing to me.

You see hate and anger on dis face?

He cried out loudly:

I donn know heim!! You made a mistake. Who be dis guy? he cried.

Tank stepped hard into his neck. Ramon began choking, gagging and gasping for breath.

I will tell you, he snarled.

You take dis man’s lady from de hospital. You hijack a chopper? Is this sounding familiar? You bes free, But dat no be good nough fo you. So You rape and kill her. Do you member now, sucker?

He slammed his foot to the side of Ramon’s head.

Do dat help you member? Now take another look at this man. Come on! Look at him! He shouted.

Then bending down, he gripped his hair and turned his face to me.

Dis man here, in your face, slime, bes her man.

Tank’s lips curled into a grin.

Your bes dead meat, Amigo, He yelled with his lips close to Ramon’s ear. He Jammed his head down hard to the floor and stood again.

Ramon yelled, his eyes full of terror:

I wasn’t going to keil her. She fight me back. She bes a crazy witch. I could no hold her.

Ramon’s words hit me like a bolt of lighting. Something snapped within me.

Tears began to boil up in my eyes. My vision began to blur.

My hands were shaking, as I gripped tightly on the .38 and slowly pointed it at his forehead directly in my sights. I was beyond control. Little could stop me from becoming a cold-blooded murderer.

Shut-up! Damn you, shut-up, you murdering slime. I cried out.

I slowly squeezed the trigger. Then a shot rang out. My shoulder burst into pain, throwing me back against the wall. I slid down (the wall) next to the door, shock was riveting through my body. Suddenly, nothing made sense.

What am I doing here?

I’m shot. I told myself, looking at my blood-drenched shoulder. I felt close to blacking out.

How did I get here, I’m not a murderer. I’m not a Rambo.

I shouldn’t have left Andrea alone. How damn important is all the treasure in the world if I had to pay for it with Andrea’s life? I should have been there for her. I must have been out of my mind, leaving her. My mind was racing with questions.

I suddenly felt the world was crashing down on me. Pain and guilt from Andrea’s death was bolting through me.

Why did I go traipsing off to the Caribbean? Was I chasing rainbows? God! If I could only do it over, take it all back! If I could only do it over.

Everything was getting foggy. My thoughts drifted back to the beginning. I began mumbling.

"If I could only turn things around, go back to the beginning, start over.

Chapter 2

Bobby and I had formed a partnership and photography studio and even took a two-bedroom apartment together in Coconut Grove until both Bobby and I married. Then Both Bobby and I purchased houses in Coconut grove. We still had several hundred thousand dollars worth of unsold silver and gold coins in our vault at the Miami Bank of America, so we felt fat and contented.

But I wondered if that knawing feeling in my gut meant that I was kidding myself and needed to satisfy a hunger that had been building up in me?

That’s when things changed to the point that my whole life was turned upside down.

I was at the studio on Thursday. It was late in March, two years after our first treasure salvage in the Caribbean, when I got a call from Melbourne.

I picked up the receiver.

Buckley Stone, how you doing?

Who’s this? I asked.

Jim Foster from the Institute of Underwater Technology.

Hey, how you doing, yourself?

Things are really poppin’ around here. You’re one of the reasons for it.

What do you mean?

I’ve got a surprise for you. When can you come down to the Institute?

What is it?

He laughed.

It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you. Listen, how about I send a car up and haul you down here on Saturday?

Now, that’s real accommodating, but Saturday is booked up here at the studio. How about Sunday?

That works for me. I’ll have the limo pick you up at your studio at ten. We’ll have lunch and I’ll show you something that will knock your socks off.

I’ll look forward to it. Listen, what if I invite Bobby along?

That’s perfect. See you both on Sunday.

I went upstairs to the dark room.

Bobby, you won’t believe who just called.

Well, you gonna tell me or am I gonna climb the walls screaming in agony, he said with a straight face.

I laughed.

You’re always on stage, funny guy. Jim Foster at the Melbourne Underwater Institute.

Oh yeah? What’s he want? Still tryin’ to get the ship’s bell? Or does he have some other scam in mind?

He invited us down on Sunday, says it’s a big surprise.

Yeah, well, the last time I met with him, my surprise turned out to be the sound of wedding bells ringing.

I laughed again.

Yeah, I remember it well. You were hooked the first time you laid eyes on her.

Well, she had her net cast over me the day we met.

And you didn’t do much to wriggle out of it.

What’s it all about?

I don’t know. He says it will knock your socks off.

What time on Sunday?

He said ten in the morning, if you can tear yourself away from church. You think Ashley will let you go?

Boy, you really know how to trip my timer, amigo. Ashley has no shackles on my ankles.

I laughed.

It’s the noose around your neck that looks encumbering to me.

Bobby lifted his foot lightly to my butt.

Get out of here Buckley, you’re having delusions of piety.

Andrea and Ashley dropped Bobby and me off at the studio on their way to church about 9:30. A long white Mercedes limo was already at the curb.

Holy Jesus! Look at that limo, Bobby shouted.

I pulled Andrea tight to me and kissed her full on the lips.

I love you girl.

Wow, you guys must be something special, look at the car. she said.

They are, if I know anything about Jim Foster, Ashley said.

He knows how to bathe a bloke in scented oil. I know that much about him.

That’s right. you used to work for him before you met Bobby, right? Andrea asked.

I think he’s got another treasure hunt planned, Ashley said.

We’ll see, I said.

See you girls later.

Bobby exited the car and Ashley spoke into the open window:

Hey Bobby! No good-bye kiss? Are you already out to sea?

Bobby leaned into the window, pulled Ashley to him and kissed her hard on the lips.

Wow! Now that’s the man I married, she said.

I love you, she shouted, and looked back out the window as they drove away.

At the curb, the limo driver was out of the limo and had the two rear doors opened.

Good morning. My name is Ralph Henderson.

We scooted into plush white leather seats and the driver closed the doors. A glass window separated the driver’s seat from the rear. His voice came over the stereo speakers.

Help yourself to the bar, gentlemen.

Bobby leaned forward, pulling a large drawer from under the front seat. An array of beer bottles of every kind were neatly stacked in rows surrounded by pint bottles of orange, grapefruit, tomato and seltzer bottles and fancy glass cut servers.

What you gonna have?

Too early for me, maybe later, I said.

Stone, You’re losing it, this is free booze, man!!

You go ahead. I’ll take an orange juice.

Hey, lookie here, Heineken beer by the dozens on ice,man. Bobby said, pulling out another drawer. Bobby was in booze heaven, so to speak.

He popped open a bottle and followed with four more by the time we pulled into the Institute parking lot.

Jim Foster met us at the curb and pulled open the car door.

Buckley, he said offering his hand. He pulled me out of the seat holding his grip.

You look great.

He stared at Bobby with a not so friendly expression.

Well, there’s the man who stole my best employee. Bobby, how are you?

We entered into a foyer area where there was a dozen seawater aquariums teaming with tropical fish. A half dozen, 15 one hundred gallon tanks full of colorful undersea plants, fish, coral, sea anemones and polyps lighted with colored blues and yellows.

One wall area was dedicated to a large window into an outside tank, where Sharks were swimming slowly. Their cold eyes showed no fear of us as if we flattered their underwater superiority with our stares. Only a fellow diver could understand the thoughts rippling through my mind.

I was dreading any happenstance meeting with one of those unpredictable killers of the deep.

Skylights allowed the sun into the would-be darkness of each corner.

Coral colored tile was set smoothly over the floor of the entire room.

This is what I wanted to show you two, Jim said, pushing open a two-panel door and walking into a large room.

This room is dedicated to your success of salvaging the ‘Santa Maria del Mar’.

The lights were dim except for spots highlighting blown up photos of a dozen scenes of myself, Bobby, Sara, and Black. I immediately recognized the encrusted cannon and anchor of the ship.

Ballast stones were arrayed into the shape of a ship’s hull spread over an area of 40 by 80 feet.

Simulated artifact pieces of eight and gold coins were protruding out of white sand bedded between the Ballast stones. The cannon was set positioned as if ready to fire upon the plundering pirate vessel.

The anchor was gripping the sea bottom.

I looked at Sara’s photo and flashed back to a night of crazy love as a storm rocked our ship in the pushed waves.

A thousand pictures flashed into my mind, a thousand memories. Then, a voice startled