a tourist couple and told the driver to take him to the Comfort Suites on the outside of town amid their protests.
As the taxi hurriedly pulled away from the curb, Collin checked the back window. An exasperated police officer arrived at the curb a bit too late. The officer strained his eyes to make out the numbers on the cab and began talking into a radio.
Fighting back the panic, Collin said, “Speed up, please. But don’t get in trouble.” He kept checking the back window, then scanning the scene in front of them. Soon the ocean was visible on their left. In the distance, he spotted the tops of the tall masts of sailing ships and changed the destination. Remembering his escape from Petaluma Marina on Rob Howell’s boat, he asked his cab driver, a kindly gentleman with more gray than black in his hair, to instead take him to the sailboat docks.
The cab driver nodded his head as a wide grin covered his face. “Ah, yes. Sailing is good for the soul. You made a good choice, man.”
The cab wove its way through neighborhoods and past shopping areas. Collin grew antsy. At last, he could see the boats in the marina and began to believe that they might make it there before the cops caught up to them. “Drop me off here, please.” The cab had not even come to a stop before Collin jumped out the door. As he did, Collin waved a one hundred dollar bill in front of the cab driver and asked him to avoid the airport for a while. With a knowing smile, the driver nodded and said, “Sure, man. Whatever the boss want.”
Collin threw another twenty through the window and mouthed thanks as he yanked his bags over his shoulder and strode toward a group of men loitering on the docks. Near them a sign read: Explore the sea on a private luxury sail cruise .
As he approached them, he asked which one of them was the captain. They all shrugged and looked at each other.
“Can I charter a private cruise, please?”
“Yeah, maybe. How many people in your group?” the oldest of them said.
“Just me. I need a ride to Jamaica.”
“When do you need that ride?” came the incredulous response. “We do mostly sunset cruises, you know.”
“Like, now would be good,” said Collin as he glanced toward the road.
After the chuckles died down, the leader of the group said, “I can do that, but it’s gonna cost you, man.”
“How much?”
“Well, I need to take my crew here. I can’t go that far without a good crew.”
“Fine. How much?”
“Well, that’s gonna be $20,000.”
“Are you kidding? $20,000? Jamaica is not that far away. $10,000 and you got a deal.”
“No way. It’s gonna take me and my crew more than two days to make that round trip. We need to get paid for such service.”
The wailing of sirens fast approached. Collin tensed and turned away from the street. “I’ll give you 12,000 US dollars if we can leave right now and none of you breathes a word of this to anyone. You never saw me, you understand?”
The sirens grew closer. Collin checked his watch and moved into the shade where the men were congregated. The man noted his movements with a raised eyebrow. “Make it $15,000 and you got a deal.”
Screeching tires and blaring horns no more than a block away.
“Fine. But can we go now ?”
The Captain eyed Collin warily. Collin shifted and squirmed as the noise from the approaching police cars grew louder. “I need time to reschedule tonight’s passengers. We can’t take off just like that.”
Collin reached into his backpack and produced what looked like a thin brick made out of duct tape and tossed it to the Captain. “That’s $10,000. I’ll pay you the rest when we get there.”
The Captain tore at the duct tape. A broad smile spread across his face. “Yeah, man. Get on the boat,” he said as he pointed to a beautiful sixty-foot schooner parked in a slip thirty yards away. One of the men hopped to his feet. He fumbled for a key card in his pocket and swiped it in front of an electronic
As the taxi hurriedly pulled away from the curb, Collin checked the back window. An exasperated police officer arrived at the curb a bit too late. The officer strained his eyes to make out the numbers on the cab and began talking into a radio.
Fighting back the panic, Collin said, “Speed up, please. But don’t get in trouble.” He kept checking the back window, then scanning the scene in front of them. Soon the ocean was visible on their left. In the distance, he spotted the tops of the tall masts of sailing ships and changed the destination. Remembering his escape from Petaluma Marina on Rob Howell’s boat, he asked his cab driver, a kindly gentleman with more gray than black in his hair, to instead take him to the sailboat docks.
The cab driver nodded his head as a wide grin covered his face. “Ah, yes. Sailing is good for the soul. You made a good choice, man.”
The cab wove its way through neighborhoods and past shopping areas. Collin grew antsy. At last, he could see the boats in the marina and began to believe that they might make it there before the cops caught up to them. “Drop me off here, please.” The cab had not even come to a stop before Collin jumped out the door. As he did, Collin waved a one hundred dollar bill in front of the cab driver and asked him to avoid the airport for a while. With a knowing smile, the driver nodded and said, “Sure, man. Whatever the boss want.”
Collin threw another twenty through the window and mouthed thanks as he yanked his bags over his shoulder and strode toward a group of men loitering on the docks. Near them a sign read: Explore the sea on a private luxury sail cruise .
As he approached them, he asked which one of them was the captain. They all shrugged and looked at each other.
“Can I charter a private cruise, please?”
“Yeah, maybe. How many people in your group?” the oldest of them said.
“Just me. I need a ride to Jamaica.”
“When do you need that ride?” came the incredulous response. “We do mostly sunset cruises, you know.”
“Like, now would be good,” said Collin as he glanced toward the road.
After the chuckles died down, the leader of the group said, “I can do that, but it’s gonna cost you, man.”
“How much?”
“Well, I need to take my crew here. I can’t go that far without a good crew.”
“Fine. How much?”
“Well, that’s gonna be $20,000.”
“Are you kidding? $20,000? Jamaica is not that far away. $10,000 and you got a deal.”
“No way. It’s gonna take me and my crew more than two days to make that round trip. We need to get paid for such service.”
The wailing of sirens fast approached. Collin tensed and turned away from the street. “I’ll give you 12,000 US dollars if we can leave right now and none of you breathes a word of this to anyone. You never saw me, you understand?”
The sirens grew closer. Collin checked his watch and moved into the shade where the men were congregated. The man noted his movements with a raised eyebrow. “Make it $15,000 and you got a deal.”
Screeching tires and blaring horns no more than a block away.
“Fine. But can we go now ?”
The Captain eyed Collin warily. Collin shifted and squirmed as the noise from the approaching police cars grew louder. “I need time to reschedule tonight’s passengers. We can’t take off just like that.”
Collin reached into his backpack and produced what looked like a thin brick made out of duct tape and tossed it to the Captain. “That’s $10,000. I’ll pay you the rest when we get there.”
The Captain tore at the duct tape. A broad smile spread across his face. “Yeah, man. Get on the boat,” he said as he pointed to a beautiful sixty-foot schooner parked in a slip thirty yards away. One of the men hopped to his feet. He fumbled for a key card in his pocket and swiped it in front of an electronic
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