Read Online Smugglers 3 Accidental Kingpin by Gerald McCallum - Free Book Online
Authors: Gerald McCallum
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questions. It was a good plan, one that would not raise any suspicions here, and cash didn’t either.
Bimini was perfect for us except drugs were everywhere. The island was awash in cocaine, probably from me or the Mexicans. The next day Angel and I arranged for a sitter for the kids and went to look at condos and houses for rent. We decided we would be safest in a condo on the second floor.
I kept in touch with what was going on back home by reading the Miami Herald, which reported that the killing had stopped, but the talking heads on TV and the politicians in front of the camera were telling listeners how they are working every day to stamp out drugs. What B.S. Half of them were on my payroll and the other half were becoming multi-millionaires because of their involvement in the war on drugs, which makes more money than the actual drugs.
We moved into the condo, bought a couple of cars and explored the island. We all took up SCUBA diving and bought a small boat. In general, we got to know each other again as a family, and Angel and I renewed our sex life, which had faded to almost nothing back in Miami.
The months flew by, and soon we were coming up on a year. One day at a street fair I bought a book called The Pocket Guide For Surviving Doomsday Or Double Your Money Back . In this book the author talked about the safest place to be in an emergency or crisis: it was on a big boat. Apparently a boat is easy to defend, and nobody can get your address, because it can be moved at a moment’s notice. Not to mention there are no tax or property records on file for anyone to track you down.
The very next day I started looking at eighty-five to one hundred footers. I found a Choy Lee eighty-eight footer that seemed OK, and best of all it only drew five and a half feet of water. The owners wanted to sell it quickly because their business was failing. I made them a cash offer of four million to close at the end of the month with a nonrefundable deposit of one hundred thousand dollars. I put a fuse on my offer of three days, take it or leave it.
They took the deal, and we accomplished the sale of the boat in less than one hour. A cashier’s check from a bank in the Cayman Islands was handed over as payment.
We moved aboard, and Angel and the kids loved it. We kept the same captain and crew totaling four men and decided to hire boat cleaners at ports of call.
After the initial month on board our new home we went to dinner one night at the yacht club where we met a couple named Bob and Karen living on a sixty foot Bayliner named the Adventurer. They had been living on their boat for about two years, hopping from island to island in the Caribbean. Over the next month we struck up a friendship and did a lot of diving together, plus shopping and dinners.
One night after having dinner on my boat, Bob and I were on the aft weather deck smoking Cuban cigars and drinking beer.
“So, Bob, what kind of business did you retire from?”
He told me the story of Mack and Terry and two black dancers and the gun fights fought in Miami and the Keys and how they got the boat .
“And you, what did you used to do?”
“I was a real estate investor in New York,” I lied. “I did well, but apparently not as well as guys in the drug business.”
After a couple of months of being friends he let it slip one day that Mack and Terry had been killing the Mexican cartel members from Tucson to the Keys for over three years before they died.
That night we decided to take the boats and go to South Bimini. We anchored at Honeymoon Harbor for a week.
Cocaine was available wherever we went, and even more so in South Bimini. I had always known it had been a way point from Columbia to Miami for cocaine since the mid-eighties, as seen in the movie “Blow.” One Island had been bought by the ex-partner of George from the movie. He either bought everybody out or drove them off. One couple’s bodies were never found, but their boat was discovered
Bimini was perfect for us except drugs were everywhere. The island was awash in cocaine, probably from me or the Mexicans. The next day Angel and I arranged for a sitter for the kids and went to look at condos and houses for rent. We decided we would be safest in a condo on the second floor.
I kept in touch with what was going on back home by reading the Miami Herald, which reported that the killing had stopped, but the talking heads on TV and the politicians in front of the camera were telling listeners how they are working every day to stamp out drugs. What B.S. Half of them were on my payroll and the other half were becoming multi-millionaires because of their involvement in the war on drugs, which makes more money than the actual drugs.
We moved into the condo, bought a couple of cars and explored the island. We all took up SCUBA diving and bought a small boat. In general, we got to know each other again as a family, and Angel and I renewed our sex life, which had faded to almost nothing back in Miami.
The months flew by, and soon we were coming up on a year. One day at a street fair I bought a book called The Pocket Guide For Surviving Doomsday Or Double Your Money Back . In this book the author talked about the safest place to be in an emergency or crisis: it was on a big boat. Apparently a boat is easy to defend, and nobody can get your address, because it can be moved at a moment’s notice. Not to mention there are no tax or property records on file for anyone to track you down.
The very next day I started looking at eighty-five to one hundred footers. I found a Choy Lee eighty-eight footer that seemed OK, and best of all it only drew five and a half feet of water. The owners wanted to sell it quickly because their business was failing. I made them a cash offer of four million to close at the end of the month with a nonrefundable deposit of one hundred thousand dollars. I put a fuse on my offer of three days, take it or leave it.
They took the deal, and we accomplished the sale of the boat in less than one hour. A cashier’s check from a bank in the Cayman Islands was handed over as payment.
We moved aboard, and Angel and the kids loved it. We kept the same captain and crew totaling four men and decided to hire boat cleaners at ports of call.
After the initial month on board our new home we went to dinner one night at the yacht club where we met a couple named Bob and Karen living on a sixty foot Bayliner named the Adventurer. They had been living on their boat for about two years, hopping from island to island in the Caribbean. Over the next month we struck up a friendship and did a lot of diving together, plus shopping and dinners.
One night after having dinner on my boat, Bob and I were on the aft weather deck smoking Cuban cigars and drinking beer.
“So, Bob, what kind of business did you retire from?”
He told me the story of Mack and Terry and two black dancers and the gun fights fought in Miami and the Keys and how they got the boat .
“And you, what did you used to do?”
“I was a real estate investor in New York,” I lied. “I did well, but apparently not as well as guys in the drug business.”
After a couple of months of being friends he let it slip one day that Mack and Terry had been killing the Mexican cartel members from Tucson to the Keys for over three years before they died.
That night we decided to take the boats and go to South Bimini. We anchored at Honeymoon Harbor for a week.
Cocaine was available wherever we went, and even more so in South Bimini. I had always known it had been a way point from Columbia to Miami for cocaine since the mid-eighties, as seen in the movie “Blow.” One Island had been bought by the ex-partner of George from the movie. He either bought everybody out or drove them off. One couple’s bodies were never found, but their boat was discovered
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