by Joseph Grant
Even in the best of worlds their lives were already damaged, he thought as he cut the engines, pulling silently into the entrance of the starlit harbor. This wasn't the best of worlds for Catherine and him to start a new life and he was glad that she stayed behind this time; things were getting dicey out here any more with pirates and privateers getting in on the action. He was well aware he literally drifted in dangerous waters these days; he'd even heard the barroom stories of boatloads of unsuspecting Americans virtually disappearing on moonlight cruises and that returning crews were either too frightened to talk or were paid off, but either way, the hotels and travel agencies denied such hearsay, but he knew rumors ran as deep as the waves around here and reached shore with about the same regularity to this maritime town. This was the reason he paid Pablo well and kept a gun in the hold, but he was well aware if the circumstances ever arose, he would probably never even get the chance to use it. The spark of a flashlight flickered in the darkened hills surrounding the sleeping marina and he signaled back as the vaqueros began their descent. It was a hell of a way to make a living trafficking in narcotics, rum and stowaways but until things got better, it paid off his debt to the Argentinean drug cartel and was the insurance that kept both he and Catherine very much alive.
Joseph Grant rocks the 6S mike with force and frequency. His full catalog is here.