Fish On! by Wayne Stinnett

Author:Wayne Stinnett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wayne Stinnett
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It took less than ten minutes to reach the Seven Mile Bridge. As we passed under it, I slowed, then turned toward the entrance to Boot Key Harbor.

“What’s in the briefcase?” I asked Charity once the engine noise subsided.

“It’s my makeup case.”

I looked over at her. Charity hardly ever wore makeup that I could remember. She didn’t need it. “Makeup?”

“Right now, there’s nothing in it but a pair of handguns and a disassembled Desert Tech SRS Covert bullpup.”

I grinned as I steered the boat toward Marathon City Marina. “I expected nothing less.”

A bullpup was a rifle that had the action behind the trigger assembly, as opposed to most rifles, where it was in front of it. That configuration made for a much shorter overall length without shortening the barrel, which would decrease accuracy. I’d heard that the Desert Tech SRS, chambered for .338 Lapua Magnum rounds, was extremely accurate. With a skilled marksman behind the scope, it was possible to get tight groupings up to fifteen hundred yards.

When we reached the marina, I tied Knot L-8 off in an empty slip two down from the Revenge, leaving the engines running.

“When I pull the Revenge out, tie Knot L-8 off in her slip,” I instructed Charity, as I grabbed her bags and mounted the finger pier.

After stepping aboard Gaspar’s Revenge, I headed to the alarm panel by the rear hatch and punched in the code to disarm it. Then I opened the hatch, tossed Charity’s bags on the aft couch, and grabbed the ignition key from the hook. A moment later, I was on the flybridge and had the engines started.

Charity had already moved the smaller boat out into the fairway, waiting for me to pull out.

“Hey, Jesse,” I heard a familiar voice call out from the dock. “Where ya headed?”

It was Dink.

“Be gone a day or two,” I replied. “Mind getting the lines for me?”

He saw Charity waiting in Knot L-8 and, recognizing it, moved quickly, though a bit awkwardly, to the stern line and untied it.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, moving to the bow line. “I was hoping you’d help with the recovery up in Turkey Basin.”

“Can’t,” I replied, bumping the transmissions into gear for a second as soon as he tossed the bow line onto the foredeck.

I pulled back to neutral as the Revenge started moving. “Something came up. You and Jimmy can handle it. And you might want to keep quiet about it. The docks have ears.”

I bumped the port transmission into forward again, a little above idle, with the starboard transmission in reverse. This caused the boat to pivot sharply into the fairway, close to the finger pier. Once clear of the slip, I reversed both to bring the Revenge to a stop with the stern close to the end of the dock.

Charity wasted no time and with Dink’s help, quickly had Knot L-8 tied up in my slip. Then she ran to the end of the finger pier.

“Charity, give Dink the keys to Knot L-8,” I yelled.

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