Fiction: Betrayed

A chapter from a novel in progress

By Ed Rogers

[Editor’s Note: Ed tells me that “The Unspoken War is a tale of international corruption that threatens the existence of a large number of species of sharks. Charlie Blankenship had never heard of shark finning, but a chance meeting and a trip to Costa Rica changed all that. His encounter with the Taiwanese mafia and a beautiful French environmentalist may lead to his death, but would you expect anything else in Paradise?”
    The chapter we share here highlights shark finning, which you might not have heard of either. Below the chapter we provide excerpts from a couple of publications to throw further light on the deplorable practice, in Costa Rica, where Ed’s novel is set. You may, of course, elect to read them first, for the background.]

Margot dropped Charlie off at the little hotel two doors down from the bar. He had called Edgar and told him he needed one more trip before he could sell back his share of the boat. But he would be willing to meet them at the lawyer’s office and sign papers and place the money and papers in escrow stating it was his last trip and upon the return, the boat would be theirs and the money his. Edgar tried to talk him out of doing another trip but in the end gave up, and rejoiced in the knowledge it would be the last time he would have to deal with Charlie.
    Charlie had the tracking device. It was smaller than he thought it would be, which from his point of view was a good thing. He still felt uneasy about the entire thing. Placing his life in the hands of some unknown D.E.A. agents wasn’t that smart, but the idea that there would be a helicopter standing by sold him the deal.
    He looked down the empty street and found himself missing Margot. It had been nice to have a beautiful woman to curl up with at night. Now he was faced with weeks of smelly bodies and farts in the middle of the night. He thought about going next door and having a beer, but he was worn out, so he went straight to bed, although he and Margot did a lot of cuddling and not much sleep was involved.
    There was a slight chill in the air coming off the Gulf of Nicoya the next morning, but Charlie knew that would last only until the sun came up; then it would heat up fast. It took less than ten minutes to walk the couple of blocks to the boat. By the time he reached the pier the others were pulling up in a cab.
    “Good morning, shipmates,” he said half-jokingly.
    No one laughed. In fact, the only one who responded was Rufino. “Fuck you, gringo!”
    “Glad to see some things never change.” Charlie fell in behind them and got aboard the boat.
    The sleeping quarters were small and only two people at a time could stand between the bunks. He was waiting behind Edgar for the others to stow their stuff. Edgar turned and handed him his bag. “Put this on my bunk. I need to check the engines, and I don’t have time to wait on these assholes.”
    Charlie took the bag. “Okay.” Edgar seemed pissed at something or someone. Charlie wondered if maybe Rufino and Edgar had been having words about something, and his first thought was that he was the subject of the conversation.
    Shortly Rufino bumped into him on his way back to the deck. “Where is Edgar?” he growled?
    “He’s checking the engines,” Charlie replied, and was about to ask what was wrong, but Rufino was gone down into the engine room in a flash.
    Paulo was by his bunk when Charlie came down. He threw Edgar’s bag on his bed and pushed his own bag against the bulkhead beside his bed. “Hey, Paulo, what is wrong with Rufino and Edgar?” It took Charlie a few minutes of repeating and adding a Spanish word here and there before Paulo understood what he had said.
    “No say, amigo.”
    After all that, Paulo knew nothing. From above came a bellow, “Get these fucking lines off! We’re not making any money sitting here.”
    Charlie and Paulo pulled their boots on and headed to untie the ropes. Once again they were underway. The slapping of the waves, the vibrating engine, and the ever-rolling deck would be their home for weeks. Charlie looked to the east for the sun to peep over the mountain range. There were two beautiful times to be at sea, sunrise and sunset.
    A smell reached Charlie’s nose. Rufino had made the coffee and was hollering for them to come and get it. He handed Charlie a second cup and told him to take it to Edgar. That was strange, as every morning before, Rufino had carried his and Edgar’s coffee into the wheelhouse and they would drink it there and talk.
    “Is there a problem between you two?” Charlie asked.
    Rufino turned toward him. He had a kitchen knife in his hand. “Gringo, you need to mind your own business or we’ll be using you for shark bait.”
    “No problema, amigo.” One thing was for sure to Charlie after that. He knew he was the subject of their conversation.
    He handed Edgar his coffee and said, “Rufino seems really mad at me about something. You got any idea why?”
    Edgar took a drink of his coffee and placed the cup in a holder in front of him. “He doesn’t like the fact you wanted to make one more trip. I explained to him he had no choice, but that only made him madder. He’ll get over it once we start fishing.”
    Charlie turned and headed back on deck. “I sure hope you’re right. I would have thought that having the agreement and the twenty-thousand placed in escrow would have satisfied him. ”
    “I’m sure it helped. I’ve seen him this way before. It’ll work out.”
    Back on deck, Paulo was stowing the ropes back in the hole. “Hola, Paulo, cómo estás?”
    “I am fine.”
    Charlie laughed, “Very good, your English is better than my Spanish.”
    Charlie finished his coffee and took Paulo’s and Edgar’s cups and put them in a bucket of salt water. He could smell the rice and beans cooking.
    They began fishing on the west side of Isla del Coco. That put them right in the Pacific Ocean. The last trip, they were fishing on the inside channel, with the Island blocking a lot of the wind and current. Where they were this time, nothing was blocking anything. The boat rolled and pitched much more, and footing was a problem. But fishing was good.
    The first thing Charlie learned was that, on the outward side of Coco, fewer of the sharks died from hanging on the line overnight. The current ran so fast that the sharks could breathe longer with the water being pushed through their gills. He also learned to control the power of the club he hit each shark with, so that he only knocked it out instead of making a bloody mess out of it like, the way he had done the first time. But now he had the knowledge that he was throwing live creatures back to drown.
    Charlie also learned that people might say they cannot do this or that, but if you have to do something you’ll do it, and your mind will shut up and let you get on with it. That was how he got through the next couple of days. Each shark came on board, he hit it in the head, cut off its fins, and threw it back. Then there was another shark in front of him and he did the same thing. He became a machine, only doing and not thinking.
    Then the afternoon came when they got the call to pick up a shipment of drugs. They had finished rebaiting the line early and the entire crew was looking forward to a good rest. Dealing with the live sharks seemed to take a toll on everybody. And Edgar was right: the sharks were bigger on the outward side of the island, which meant the fins were larger and worth more money also.
    They headed due south to meet the boat carrying the drugs. It was almost a straight line and within two hours they were loading the cargo. Charlie had the tracker in his pocket and was ready to plant it in one of the bales the first chance he got. Then he would wait for the wonderful sound of the D.E.A.’s helicopter coming across the water. He wondered how long after they unloaded the drugs onto the boat outside Puntarenas that it would take the D.E.A. to show up.
    This time, instead of the usual two, they took on three bales of drugs – two bales of cocaine and one smaller bale of heroin. The bales covered the entire back deck. It was a little after five in the afternoon when the crew finished loading. Edgar would have the wheel until seven, and Charlie volunteered to take the first shift at the wheel after that. They all ate, and at seven, Edgar set the heading and went to bed with the others. Charlie waited for an hour and tied down the wheel. He pulled the tracker out and went to the bale of drugs closest to the wheelhouse. He took the knife that he wore on his belt and cut a small slit in the plastic wrap, turned on the tracker, and then pushed it into the bale. He smoothed over the slit and was happy to see he couldn’t tell where he had made the cut. With the tracker turned on, the D.E.A. could track their boat, but they wouldn’t make a move until the transfer to Mr. Tia’s boat from Puntarenas took place, so now there would be the long wait until the other boat showed up.
    Paulo tapped Charlie on the shoulder. His two hours were up and Paulo was there to relieve him. Charlie hit his bunk and died. He woke up to the sound of people banging around on the deck. His first thought, and hope, was that the D.E.A. were there. But as he came on deck, he found everybody loading the bales onto the other boat. He thought to himself, it won’t be long now.
    They were nearly finished, so Charlie went back down before anyone saw him. He wanted to be asleep or pretending to be asleep when the helicopter came.
    He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew, Edgar was waking him to take the wheel again. It was mid-morning and they were close to where their lines had been placed the day before. There was no helicopter. What had happened?

Margot was on the phone with Agent Morris as soon as she saw the beep indicating Charlie’s boat come to a stop on her computer. With them being that far south it had to be the meet-up. She shouted over the phone, “They have the drugs on board! Are you ready?”
    The agent sounded unsure and hesitant, “We’re having a problem with the warrant, but it won’t be an issue. We had to get the assistant ambassador involved, and he is talking to the judge. We have plenty of time. No one will be opening the bales until they get to the warehouse.”
    “I told Charlie you would be picking him up soon after the drugs were transferred to the Puntarenas boat. Once that happens he’ll be looking for you.”
    “I’m sorry. We never thought we would get any pushback about a warrant, with all the evidence we had. Don’t worry, they can push us around, but once the Embassy gets involved, they cave pretty fast.”
    “You call me the minute you get your warrant and the helicopter is in the air. I mean the very minute you know! Am I clear on that?”
    “Yes, Ms. Rosenburg, you’re clear.”
    Margot disconnected and threw the cell phone on the couch. She walked into the kitchen, opened a fresh bottle of wine, and poured a glass. She uneasily watched the little red dot on her computer, knowing Charlie’s only hope would depend on being saved by the D.E.A. The wine was almost gone by the time Charlie’s boat stopped short of Puntarenas, then headed back to the fishing grounds. Soon she fell asleep.
    When she awoke, it was mid-day and there had been no word from the D.E.A. She didn’t know the name of the other boat, so she couldn’t track it but it had to be back in Puntarenas. Charlie’s boat was almost back to where it had started.
    She called Agent Morris, but got no answer. She then tried Agent Roe, but still there was no answer. She was at the point of panic when she remembered she had friends that had looked out for her long before the D.E.A.
    She called Howard Bates. Howard had retired from the E.P.A. in the States after thirty years of service and moved to Costa Rica. He, along with four, sometimes more people, formed a group they laughingly called Little Green Peace. Howard had a plane and two of the others had boats. One of the boats was a fast cigar boat that would fly over the ocean.
    “Howard, I’m going to need your help. I have a friend on a finning boat and he’s in trouble.”
    What endeared Howard to Margot was that he never questioned anything. “What do you need me to do?”
    “I need you to file a flight plan to the northwest side of Isla del Coco. I’ll text you their transponder code so you’ll be able to find them. I’m going to call Tommy Harris and have him meet me with his fast boat at the pier in Puntarenas. I’m waiting to hear from the D.E.A., but just in case, I want us to be ready.”
    “Margot, it will take Tommy six hours to get to Coco. And by the time I get approval to take off, it’ll be dark. We’re not going to be much help to your friend before daylight.”
    “Okay, you file your flight plan for first light tomorrow. Tommy and I will be there waiting for you.”
    “You two, be careful, that entire area around Coco is dangerous as hell.”
    “Don’t worry, Howard, it’s not my first Rodeo.”
    “That’s what worries me.”
    “I’ll see you tomorrow, worrywart.”
    She tried Agent Morris once more, but still no answer.
    “Hello, Tommy, this is Margot. I need your help.”

The sun was setting as Isla del Coco came into sight. Tommy asked, “Do we stay on this side or go on around?”
    Margot had her phone up in the air looking for a signal. At last, she got one. “Stop here.” The boat nosed over and stopped. She saw where Agent Morris had tried to call her. “Hello, Morris?”
    “Yes, is that you, Ms. Rosenburg?”
    Margot was beside herself. “Where the hell have you been? Do you have Charlie on the helicopter yet?”
    “Ms. Rosenburg, that warrant opened up a shit-storm. I’m sorry, but there is nothing we can do. Roe and I are on the way to the airport now – we’ve been kicked out of the country.”
    “What the hell do you mean you ‘can't do anything’? Get that helicopter out to that boat and get Charlie to safety.”
    “The Costa Rican government recalled the helicopter. There is no help for your friend – not from us anyway. I can’t express how sorry we are.”
    “I can’t tell you what a bunch of sorry sons of bitches you are either.” She hung up.
    She said to Tommy, “I need to get in touch with Charlie, then we move around to the other side of the island.”
    She called three times before Charlie answered.
    Charlie kept hearing a buzzing sound coming from down below. They had run their line, rebaited, and were heading to drop anchor for the night. He walked down and realized the buzzing was coming from his pack. He removed his cell and saw Margot’s number. He hurried upstairs so he would have a better connection.
    He was at the back part of the deck, out from under the tin covering. He hit answer and noticed everybody looking at him. It was the first time he knew of any one of them getting a call. They were so far out, the boat’s radio was their normal communication; someone would have to be close to use a cell phone. There was one small tower on the island, but it was used for local calls.
    “Where’s the helicopter?” were the first words out of his mouth.
    “Charlie, listen very carefully. There is no helicopter or boat coming for you. I’m out here with a friend and we’re close by but we can’t get to the San Anna in time. You need to jump overboard and swim toward Isla del Coco. It’s dark and moonless, it’s your only chance. I have an airplane coming in the morning and we’ll be looking all night until we find you. But if they find the tracking device, the people on that boat are going to kill you.”
    At first, Charlie couldn’t believe what she was saying. There were sharks everywhere and she wanted him to jump overboard?
    It was then that he saw Edgar on the radio, turning and looking at Charlie. “Is that your friends from the D.E.A. you’re talking to?”
    Into his cell phone, Charlie hollered, “Find me, I’m in the water.”
_______________

“Costa Rica vs Sharks – How government greed is pushing sharks into extinction,” [ProjectIcarus2015, I.C.A.R.U.S Inc., October 26, 2015]. Excerpts:

Shark population decline is a serious worldwide issue. Around 11,000 sharks are killed everyday...In 2013 Costa Rica moved to protect several species of shark...They even banned shark finning and shut down some docks that were frequently breaking the law. Still shark finning remained an illegal activity in Costa Rican waters...The fins came from two protected species and was one of several exports that stopped in the US. This was in violation of both American laws and, supposedly, Costa Rican ones. The shipments, though, were strangely approved by the Costa Rican government....
    Costa Rica used to be known as the country who cared...Now will they become just another greedy country who cared more about a quick buck than preserving the ocean, and the planet, for future generations? [read more]

“Shark fin scandal in Costa Rica has Solís administration on the defensive,” [David Boddiger, Tico Times, March 19, 2015]. Excerpts:

Among the exports are fins from the scalloped hammerhead (Sphyrna lewini)...[from] near-shore coastal waters....
    One of those offshore areas is Costa Rica’s Isla del Coco National Park....
    [X] kilograms of fins totals nearly seven times that number of sharks [and] shark fins lose up to 60 percent of their weight from the time they are unloaded fresh to the time they are dried and exported months later....
    It was either throw them out or allow them to be exported....
    No one wants to see a dead animal go to waste. But the extraordinary value of shark fins – highly prized in Asia for making shark fin soup – is an inevitable temptation for fishermen....
    Scalloped hammerhead fins can fetch up to $110 per kilogram for exporters...
    One fishing boat that sold fins for export, El Marisol, was spotted by Isla del Coco park rangers on Sept. 24, 2014....
    Twelve other boats that sold hammerhead fins for export...have been spotted in Isla del Coco without authorization in the last three years, which is a crime. [read more]

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Copyright © 2017 by Ed Rogers