Page 17 of Captured Pawn
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My phone ringing woke me up. I wasn’t sure what time I’d finally nodded off, but I knew from the light coming in my east-facing window it was right before dawn.
Fucking great.
“This better be good,” I groused, not even looking at my phone to see who it was.
“It’s important, but not good.”
I recognized the voice of Robert, the head of my team running the docks.
“Lay it on me,” I said, closing my eyes.
“The bastards are ahead of schedule. We had an unscheduled tanker dock just after midnight. I didn’t think too much about it as there was big construction equipment visible on the main deck. We issued hold warnings to the captain and scheduled them for an eight-a.m. inspection, but the bastards already pushed off without us stepping foot onboard.”
My brain tried to make sense of what he was saying.
“This doesn’t mean it was the Bishops. What do we know about the port of origin?”
“That’s just it. We didn’t do a deep dive in the middle of the night. I thought it could wait until morning, but…”
“Spit it out.”
“Jimmy traced it to a medical supply company in Glasgow.”
“Dammit.”
“That’s not all. I had the guys pull security footage from the few hours it was docked. We found about half of the camera feeds have been tampered with. Luckily, we were able to catch footage of a small fishing boat coming alongside the tanker from the port side. They were docked together less than an hour, but we can make out several pallets moving back and forth between the vessels.”
I pushed to sit on the side of the bed. Fury was a good alarm clock. “Goddammit, you have one fucking job. I have half a mind to fire your ass.”
To his credit, Robert kept his cool on the other end of the line. “Maybe you should hold off on that until we get through the next few days. Like it or not, you need me.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“You do realize that we’ve just let millions of dollars of illegal narcotics leave through our port. Drugs… headed for the arms of innocent kids and addicted adults.”
“Don’t act like that’s why we’re trying to shut down the Bishops’ illegal pipeline. We both know you and your brother are pissed you don’t have a cut of the pie.”
Again, he wasn’t totally wrong, but he wasn’t right either.
“That’s not true. We don’t dabble in drugs. There’s no honor in it.”
“That’s right. Weapons, booze, cigarettes, and stolen goods have a lot more honor.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to piss me off?”
“Naw, it’s just… this Hatfield and McCoy bullshit between you and the Bishops blinds you guys sometimes. We shouldn’t be trying to shut them down. Like everything else on the dock, we should just be making sure to get our cut.”
This wasn’t the first time Robert had confronted me on this topic, but I would make sure it would be the last.
“Who signs your paycheck?”
Silence.
“That’s right. You work for me. Not the dock. Not Knight Industries. Me. So, this is the last time we will have this discussion, understand?”
“Yeah.”
