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“There probably isn’t much demand since there are only a couple gas stations and gas is about five dollars per gallon,” Bolt chimes in.
With military precision each man grabs his gear, exits the plane and stacks it into the back of the SUV. Within a couple of minutes we are on our way to the other side of the island.
“So this is it, huh?” Trey asks Anthony, hoisting a shiny black box with silver clasps onto his lap.
“That’s it, over fifteen grand of hardware in that little box.” Anthony shoots him a smirk.
“Worth every penny.” Trey nods his head and pats the lid.
Everyone grows silent once again as we drive through endless groves of trees and past small fishing villages where little colorful houses stand on stilts with large wooden shutters to protect them from the tropical storms and hurricanes. After driving through several more clusters of trees we finally come to some semblance of a small city, with a concrete building that seems to serve as a market, a smaller building with a Coca Cola sign and an outside display rack loaded with five gallon bottles of water.
On the outskirts of town there are at least a dozen fishing boats resting in the harbor. The obvious moneymakers, the boats are prettier and better kept than any of the buildings we have seen thus far. The last glimpse of the water reveals a large, rusting freighter of some type that had obviously run aground years ago and was destined to spend the rest of it’s days wasting away in it’s salt water grave. It seems strange to me that no one even bothered to give it a proper burial.
“So what do you think?” Trey asks, taking a break from looking out at the landscape rolling past the window.
“It looks interesting,” I reply. “Hey, there is actually a resort.” I point to a series of modern looking buildings situated around a huge swimming pool.
“Many resorts on the other side of island,” the driver tells us in broken English. “This side, villagers.”
“It seems that Roatan is a popular place for divers to come and vacation,” Trey says, scrolling through pictures on his phone.
“Yeah, I have friends who come down here every winter,” Crusher tells us, finally breaking his silence.
“Good thing you don’t dive,” Bolt teases him. “You’d scare away all the fish.”
Crusher turns back toward the window as we begin to wind gently back and forth through the heavy jungle, away from the shoreline.
“Our boat is waiting for us at Calabash Bight,” Trey tells the driver.
“Calabash, yes,” he replies, keeping his eyes on the winding road.
“What is a bight?” I ask, never having heard the term.
“It’s a curve in the coastline,” Bolt replies. “It’s one that’s not deep enough to be called a bay.”
“Where did you learn that? Wikipedia or something?” Crusher sneers.
“No, I just have a little brains to go along with my brawn,” Bolt quips.
The SUV slows and the ocean once again comes into view. “Is that the boat?” Anthony asks, as we pull up to a beautiful, blue and white boat.
“Yeah, it’s an Azimut or something like that,” Trey says, glancing down at his phone again. “I thought I might as well get the bigger one.”
“I think the five of us should fit,” Bolt says with a laugh. “Crusher might have to sit on the bow though.” His laugh is cut short as Crusher delivers a punch in the arm.
The three of them exit the SUV and once again methodically retrieve their gear. My pulse quickens at the thought of being involved in a mission with these highly skilled men. Anthony beckons Trey to lead the way and we all head down to the beautiful boat.
Trey
The boat looks even more spectacular in person, than it did online. It’s an eighty-foot cruiser that was designed for the open water, but it’s complete with a smaller excursion boat that we will use. Even though it is only going to be a five-minute drive right now, I have more elaborate plans for it later on.
Once everyone is onboard, I go inside to talk to the captain letting him know exactly where we want to land. Anthony is convinced that we should land on the northwest tip of the island and proceed from there. The buildings, as well as the gorgeous sugar sand beaches are about a quarter mile south, so that should ensure that Tommy doesn’t spot us prematurely. The captain confirms that he will anchor offshore and use the excursion boat to take us in.
Upon returning to the main deck, I can hear Mandy quizzing the guys as they ready their guns and equipment. “How far can you shoot with that?” she asks Bolt as he assembles his sniper rifle.
