Table of Contents
ALSO BY RANDY WAYNE WHITE
Sanibel Flats
The Heat Islands
The Man Who Invented Florida
Captiva
North of Havana
The Mangrove Coast
Ten Thousand Islands
Shark River
Twelve Mile Limit
Everglades
Tampa Burn
Dead of Night
Dark Light
Hunters Moon
Black Widow
Dead Silence
Deep Shadow
NONFICTION
Randy Wayne Whites Ultimate Tarpon Book
Batfishing in the Rainforest
The Sharks of Lake Nicaragua
Last Flight Out
An American Traveler
Randy Wayne Whites Gulf Coast Cookbook
(with Carlene Fredericka Brennen)
Tarpon Fishing in Mexico and Florida (An Introduction)
FICTION AS RANDY STRIKER
Key West Connection
The Deep Six
Cuban Death-Lift
The Deadlier Sex
Assassins Shadow
Grand Cayman Slam
Everglades Assault
For my adored partner, Wendy Webb, and our eloquent, gifted
Webb family: Sandy and Jim Phillips, Ben, Sarah, Tom, Janet,
Luke, Jack, Mary, Joost, Jesse, Kelly, Ryder, Layla, and
three ascending stars: Hannah, Phoebe and Zo Webb
AUTHORS N OTE
I learned long ago, whether writing fiction or nonfiction, an author loses credibility if hes caught in a factual error. Because of this, I do extensive research before starting a new Doc Ford novel, and Night Vision is no different.
However, a scene takes place in this book for which no research data was available. It concerns bottlenose dolphins that are surprised while foraging beneath mangrove trees, on land, on a starry, moonless night. As the author, though, I can vouch for the scenes accuracy and authenticity because I witnessed a similar event, and the details are as described, although viewed through the eyes of Marion Ford and Tomlinson.
Otherwise, thanks go to experts in various fields. These include Dr. Frank J. Mazzotti, wildlife biologist, and one of the countrys foremost experts on crocodilians. Ryan D. Battis, of Laser Energetics, manufacturers of the Dazer Guardian. Peter Deltoro and Dr. Tim S. Sigman, both of whom provided invaluable help to the author.
Special thanks also go to my partner, Wendy Webb, my guardian, Iris Tanner, my partners and pals, Mark Dartanian Marinello, Coach Marty and Brenda Harrity, my surfing buddy Gus Landl, my spiritual advisers Bill and Diana Lee, my battery and travel mate Don Carman, Stu The Big Lefty Johnson, lovely Donna and Gary Twig Terwilliger, and Dr. Brian Hummel, the authors intellectual compass and ever-faithful friend.
Once again, the early chapters of this book were written in Cartagena, Colombia, and Havana, Cuba, and I am indebted to friends who helped me secure good places to live and write. My thanks go to Giorgio and Carolina Arajuo for their help in Cartagena. In Cuba, my Freemason brothers Ernesto Batista and Sergio Rodriquez were particularly helpful, as were Roberto and Ela Giraudy, Rul and Myra Corrales and Alex Vicente.
Most of this novel, though, was written at corner tables before and after hours at Doc Fords Rum Bar and Grille on Sanibel and San Carlos Islands, where staff were tolerant beyond the call of duty.
Thanks go to Col. Raynauld Bentley, Dan Howes, Brian Boston Blackie Cunningham, Mojito Greg Barker, the amazing Liz Harris, Capt. Bryce Randall Harris, dear Milita Kennedy, Kevin Filliowich, Kevin Boyce of Boston infamy, Eric Breland, Big Sam Khussan Ismatullaev, Olga Guryanova, lovely Rachel Songalewski of Michigan, Jean, Evan and Abby Crenshaw, Lindsay Kuleza, Roberto Cruz, Amanda Rodriquez, Juan Gomex, Mary McBeath, tattoo consultant Kim McGonnell, the amazing Cindy Porter, Hi Sean Scott, Big Matt Powell, Laurie and Jake Yukobov, Bette Roberts and master chef Chris Zook, a man of complex talents.
At the Rum Bar on San Carlos Island, Fort Myers Beach, thanks go to Wade Craft, James Gray, Kandice Salvador, Herberto Ramos, Brian Obrien, lovelies Latoya Trotta, Alexandria Pereira, Kerra Pike, Christine Engler, Stephanie Goolsby, Danielle Gorman, Corey Allen, Nora Billheimmer, Molly Brewer, Justina Villaplano, Jessica Wozniak, Lauren Brown, Kassee Buonano, Sally Couillard, Justin Dorfman, Chris Goolsby, Patric John, Stephen Johnson, Manuel Lima, Jeffrey Lyons, Matthew and Michael Magner, Catherine Mawyer, Susan Mora, Kylie Pryll, Dustin Rickards, Brooke Ryland, Ellen Sandler, Dean Shoeman, Jessica Shell, Andrea Aguayo and Kevin Stretch Tully.
At Timbers Sanibel Grille, my pals Matt Asen, Mary Jo, Audrey, Becky, Bart and Bobby were, once again, stalwarts.
Finally, I would like to thank my two sons, Capt. Rogan and Lee White, for helping me finish, yet again, another book.
Randy Wayne White
Casa de Chicos
Sanibel Island, Florida
Everything that has happened, everything that will happen, it all exists in this single moment, endlessly surfacing and submerging; natural order, perfect law. The word coincidence is an invention that defines our own confusion better than it describes a unique occurrence.
S. M. TOMLINSON
One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice what you are and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying.
JOAN OF ARC, 1412-1431
ONE
ON AN EVERGLADES-SCENTED EVENING IN MARCH, AS I DROVE MY pickup truck west, toward the Gulf of Mexico, my hipster pal, Tomlinson, reached to switch off the radio, saying, Life is the best thing that can happen to any of us. And its also the very worst thing that can happen to any of us. Problem is, our luck begins with moms location when the womb turns into a slippery slide. Thats why I self-medicate. It makes the shitty unfairness of it all almost bearable.
We had just dropped my chatty cousin, Ransom Gatrell, at Regional Southwest, and I was eager for a few minutes without conversation. I nodded toward the radio and told him, Hey, I was listening to that. We can talk later.
The Guatemalan girl deserves your full attention, Tomlinson reminded me. He leaned back in his seat and stuck his hand out the window, surfing the Florida night. Shes gifted. And shes in trouble.
He wasnt referring to Ransom, although my powerhouse cousin, and my other neighbors at Dinkins Bay Marina, Sanibel Island, Florida, are a gifted, eclectic bunch.
Your friends are always in trouble, I said. Your female friends, anyway. Percentages suggest the problem is you, not them.
Tula isnt a female. Shes an adolescent girl, he replied. Theres a big difference. Tulas at that agea magic age, manwhen some girls seem to possess all the wisdom in the world. Theyre not screwed up by crazed hormones and menstrual periods. They exist, for the briefest of times, in a rarefied capsule of purity. The window is very, very narrow, of course. Its afterward that most women go a little nuts. Hell, lets be honest. All of them.
Uh-huh, I said.
Tomlinson pressed, Im trying to give you the background so you understand what were dealing with. This girl traveled three thousand miles on freight trains, riding in the backs of semis, to get to Florida. Hell, she even hiked across a chunk of Arizona desert. Its because she hasnt heard from her mother in almost three months. Her brother, two aunts and an uncle are somewhere in Florida, too, and she hasnt heard from them, either. Somethings wrong. Tula came here to find out what.