I rejoined the meeting. Coffee had been delivered and each man had a mug in front of him. I poured myself one and sat down next to Logan.
Jock said, "We've worked out a plan of sorts. Blood Island is secure, and Major Lockman is going to leave a platoon there to make sure it stays that way. He and the rest of his men are headed back to Hurlburt. I'm going to sweat Simmermon some more, and see if I can get something else out of him. We're also going to be interrogating the other people from the island. Maybe somebody heard something or knows something."
"What about other governmental agencies?" I asked.
"The FBI is on it, and because of the explosives, ATF is joining them. The president is being briefed, and if we can't stop the bastards, he'll be prepared to make a statement to the nation on Sunday evening, explaining what happened."
"Not a great plan."
Jock looked at me. "No, it's not," he said, "but unless you've got a better one, I don't know what else to do."
"How do Logan and I fit into this?"
"You don't, officially."
"Unofficially?"
"I'd like for you to go to Orlando today. Make contact with your buddy at the U.S. Attorney's Office. He'll be expecting you. He's been told that you'll be coordinating our efforts up there and acting as liaison with me:'
"That sounds pretty official."
"There'll be no record of it. Parrish knows that."
David Parrish was the chief assistant U.S. attorney for the Middle District of Florida. He'd been my law school classmate and good friend for many years. We'd worked together before.
"Okay," I said. "Can Logan take my boat back to Longboat Key?"
"No. The Coasties will take care of your boat. I want Logan to go with you. You'll be met at the airport by one of our men. He'll drive you to Parrish's office and leave you a car. Check in with me when you get there."
"What about the people I'm holding?"
Galls stirred. "I'd like to have them in custody," he said.
Jock looked at me. "How quick can you get them here?"
"Pretty quick. But I've got to go get them."
I called Mendosa's number again and waited for the callback. It came quickly.
"I need to pick up my people and deliver them to the cops," I said. "If it's all right with Mr. Mendosa, I'll drive out and pick them up. Nobody has to know where they've been."
"Hold on."
I waited.
He was back on the line. "Mr. Mendosa said to come on out."
Logan and I took a government car and drove back out U.S. 1, taking the turnoff on Big Coppitt Key. The garage door opened as I pulled into the driveway. A space was waiting for me. I pulled in, and the door slid closed. A man was standing at the doorway leading into the house. He waved Logan and me in.
Our three guests were standing in the kitchen, hands cuffed behind them, blindfolds over their eyes, their mouths gagged. Nothing was said by anyone.
We guided the three into the backseat of the car, and I backed out of the garage. We returned to the Coast Guard station on Trumbo Road and turned them over to Detective Galls.