The center console the West Seneca Crew tried to board opened up the throttle on her twin outboards with an angry scream as she started to make a run for it.
“Take out one of those,” said Jenny. “Rock her ass off!”
Tomo came up to the bow alongside Charlie, and both opened fire on her stern. On automatic fire, the two of them made quick work of the port engine, which whined to a halt and coughed smoke in its death throes.
As the distance between the two craft closed again, Jenny sang out, “Okay, you want to play nice now, or do we have to keep going to work on your-”
The pilot of the center console drew his pistol and got off two shots that came way too close for comfort as the other two started to bring up their rifles.
“Crap! I hate when it has to go down like this,” she exclaimed to no one.
“What, are you going to kill them?” Tia asked.
“Don’t want to; it’s bad for business.” She then yelled over, “Hey, whatever you got, it ain’t worth dying for, ain’t it?”
She cut down the throttle and her boat drifted slightly closer to the center console. The three guys at her helm had their guns ready, two rifles and a pistol.
“I count five to three,” she continued, “and if you look at your port engine you’ll see some of us count for more than one. Unless you’re like Spec Ops folks, I wouldn’t put my money on you if we took the safeties off and started popping rounds.”
The three guys on the other craft moved their heads in time with the conversation that had among themselves. Then one of them with a rifle spoke up and said, “How we know you won’t just shoot us and dump us over the side when you’re done?”
“Hey, both sides of the lake, what’s the one thing the US and Canada do agree on? Harshest penalties for murders, ain’t it?”
“So you ain’t goin’ to do to us like what happened to that family out of Port Bruce?”
Jenny looked to the crew, got blank stares and asked, “What happened? Didn’t hear that one.”
“Made the news a few hours ago, from a lone survivor. Last night, this crew led by a big feller out from that side, hit this boat out fishing with a family on it. Didn’t find a lot on it, so they took the mom and two daughters and shot the dad and boy. The boy lived long enough to describe them, eight big fellas with heavy weapons; boy’s boat looked like it gone through a wood chopper.”
“Damn it to hell, Big Bobby,” Jenny muttered before she addressed her prize, “No, we ain’t into that. Just play it nice, give us what you got, and we can all go back to our own home and have a drink over it.”
“Okay,” said the speaker for the center console as he lowered his rifle. “We leave the guns on the deck, right here, you send over two people to take our stash.”
The other men looked at each other and said, “All right, three.”
“Who’s going over?” Tomo asked.
“Me, Dutch and Tia. And if any of the four of them try something,” she said as she looked at Tia, “open fire.”
All content Copyright © 2011 James Ryan