This is episode forty-eight of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. There are fifty episodes. This is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.
It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format.
Two Thugs
Two men walked from the darkness into the dim glow of light from a lamppost on the pier. They both wore dark sports jackets and pants. They appeared business-like. As they walked closer, the deck lights revealed their clothing to be dry-cleaned and pressed. Their faces, shadowed with stubbled whiskers. They stepped onto the gangplank and onboard. In the glow of the deck lights, they looked like thugs.
Holding cups of coffee, Trace, Adam, Sage, and Coyote watched them from where they sat on the cover of the forward hatch.
Trace set the cup on the hatch’s cover and walked to within a few feet of the men. “Excuse me, gentlemen, my hearing may be bad, but I didn’t hear either of you asking permission to come aboard.”
“You’re hearing is fine,” one man said in a gravelly voice. “We didn’t ask permission.”
“If that’s the case,” Trace said, standing, “step off and ask permission.”
The other man smirked. “No problem, but unload your cargo back onto the pier.”
Everyone stood and stepped closer to the two men, flanking Trace
“What’s going on here?” Trace said.
“We have the exclusive rights to ship the coffee from this island,” one man said. “We’re just taking what’s ours.”
Trace took another step. “Look, our broker has made the shipping arrangements. We accepted the cargo and loaded it. The only way it comes off is when it is delivered in Suva.”
The man stepped closer to Trace. “Unload the coffee from this piece of floating crap.”
“You don’t insult this boat,” Trace said.
Coyote stepped closer.
“You have upset one of my crewmen,” Trace said. “I’d be careful.”
The other man who stood directly in front of Coyote pulled an automatic pistol from his belt. He held it on Coyote.
“Back off,” the man holding the pistol said.
“My name is Coyote.” In a snap, Coyote grabbed the man’s hand, twisted his wrist, and slipped the pistol from the man’s hand. It happened so quickly, the man’s face flashed with surprise. “Oh yeah, Coyote is where I left off. You’re standing way too close, and you didn’t have a round chamber anyway. You’re sort of new at this, aren’t you?. I, on the other hand, am not. Count yourself lucky, you and your friend don’t have another eye socket.”
Both men stepped back.
Adam stepped over to see if the other man was carrying anything. “Nothing,” Adam said.
Coyote tossed the pistol overboard.
“Look,” the one man said, “we just want what is ours.”
“It’s not yours,” Trace said. “So it’s best you lick your wounds and head back to wherever you came from. Here’s another thing, we just cut you some slack. Not only did we not shoot you, but we’re not going to report you to the island police. Carrying a weapon is against the law on this island. It’s two years in a French Polynesian prison. You have to get used to taking a crap in a ditch and wiping with a leaf.”
“We won’t leave until the coffee is unloaded,” the man said. “We can get other men to help us.”
Adam stepped forward. “Look, we’re all peaceful men by nature. But, it will take at least three of you to make it a fair fight with one of us. I’m not trying to pull your leg, it’s just a fact. We don’t want to hurt you and any of those phantom men you speak about. So please, sit and have a coffee with us or get off the ship. The coffee is very good.”
The men looked at each other. The one man motioned with his head toward shore. They stepped backwards until reaching the gangplank. They walked across the gangplank, and onto the pier.
Coyote stepped to the railing. “Hey, do you know why they call me Coyote?”
The men stopped and waited for a response.
“It’s because I’m so wily,” Coyote said. “Get it, Wile E. Coyote. You know the cartoon, The Roadrunner.”
They walked away, into the dark.
Coyote turned to the crew. “They have no sense of humor.”
“Maybe they don’t watch cartoons,” Trace said.
“Are you kidding me?” Adam said. “I bet that’s all they watch.”
“Between all the excitement and coffee, I don’t think I can sleep for a while,” Trace said. “How ‘bout the rest of you?”
“Are you thinking we should go ahead and shove off?” Sage said.
“Yeah,” Trace said.
“Let’s do it,” Adam said. “If you can take the wheel for four hours. I'll get some rest and relieve you.”
Sage and Coyote untied the lines and pulled the gangplank. Trace started the motor, and The Tramp Islander eased from the pier and turned to the open sea. Sage and Coyote hoisted the sails, and soon they were all at the bidding of the currents, the waves, and the winds.
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