She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and went through the steps in her head. There were procedures to follow, even if the operation was illegal. She guided a truck as it backed onto the loading platform. She signaled for it to stop 3 feet from the edge. Safety first.
She turned to monitor the progress of the boat, then looked downriver. Her eyes drifted to the end of the iron railing that led down sloping grass to the water's edge. She squinted. There were two people sitting on a blanket, fishing. She lifted her binoculars. Two boys, barely teenagers by the look of them. It was clearly posted that fishing was against the law. Why couldn't people just follow the rules?
"Hey!" she shouted, "You kids down there need to get out of here!"
She thought they hadn't heard her until one of them gave her the universal symbol to mind her own business.
She didn't have time to go warn them. The boat thrummed to a stop at the dock, and Paul jumped out and approached her. Paul probably wasn't his real name, but it was the one he had given when he came into Lianne's office a week ago in a tailored business suit and shoes shined to a reflective sheen.
Now he was in cargo shorts, sandals, and a sweat-drenched tee shirt. A pistol was stuck in the front of his belt. The wild look in his eye was far different than the smooth charm he'd exuded when he talked her into the bribe.
"Let's get this loaded!" he barked at the men in the truck. The two who were in the boat with him begin lifting boxes and setting them up on the dock. He faced Lianne. "Your money is coming..." He looked over her shoulder. "Who is that?" He had seen the boys fishing. He glared at Lianne. "You had one job. Now I've got to take care of it."
"Wait!" Lianne said.
"Shut up or you're next," he growled, pulling his gun.
She reached inside her windbreaker and pulled out her service weapon. She spread her feet and supported her gun wrist with her other hand. "Stop! Police!"
Everyone on the boat and from the truck pulled out guns and pointed them at her.
Paul smiled. "Too bad you didn't get your money first. It would have paid for a nice funeral."
Behind Lianne, the administration center lit up. Searchlights on the roof illuminated the entire dock. A voice over a loudspeaker said, "Police. Drop Your weapons."
Paul snarled, "You stupid b..."
Lianne took advantage of the blinding light and kicked the gun from his hand. As he scrambled for it, she sprinted for cover behind a shipping container.
The smugglers fired toward the lights. The police unleashed a barrage of bullets, and the men from the truck dropped to the ground.
Paul dashed for the boat. He jumped from the dock, landing in the craft as it roared away. It seemed to barely touch the water as it picked up speed.
Lianne glanced at the boys on the grass. They were standing, pointing at the boat, and she heard them say "Awesome!" and "Cool!" across the distance.
A squad of officers was on the concrete dock, securing weapons and checking the truck. Two lone boxes of product sat at the edge where the boat had been.
"What were you thinking, Ortega?" Her captain was standing next to her.
"Civilians, sir."
"We could see the civilians. They were covered. You singlehandedly blew a 6-month operation. We have nothing to show for it. Why didn't you follow the plan?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came.
"That's what I thought. Get back to the station. We have so much paperwork to do."
Sooner Fled Page 11