Retribution Road by Jon Coon (e reader comics .TXT) 📕

“I would imagine your orders are to bring us all back, including the boat. Is that right?”

“Si.”

“And I would imagine that El Patrón really likes this boat. Is that right?” Closer, come just a little closer.

“Si.”

“And he would be pretty upset if I sink it, don’t you think?”

“Señor, why—”

“Don’t you think I know what’s waiting for us back in Mexico? I think I’d rather take my chances in a life raft and have the satisfaction of knowing your boss won’t be killing any more little girls on this boat.” There. That’s just about right.

“But we will—”

Tom nodded to Gabe and whispered, “Now.”

The two snipers lying beneath the launch on the back deck fired simultaneously, and the RPGs on two of the Picudas exploded violently, tearing the boats in half.

“As you were saying, Sea Dragon?”

“El muertos, hombre. You are all dead men.” The remaining Picuda jumped onto plane as the three 200-horsepower outboards roared to life and made wake south. There was no need to look for survivors from the other two boats. There were none. Within minutes, only oil slicks remained as a sad memorial to the demolished boats and dead crew.

“Nice shootin’, boys. Couldn’t have done better myself,” Tom said with a scowl. “Now where is that damn submarine?”

“Did he really have a submarine?” Paul asked. His eyes were wide with excitement.

“Apparently so, and it’s supposed to be running under us until we get home,” Gabe said.

“How cool. Suppose it will surface so we can see it?”

“You’ll have to ask your grandfather. I’m not cleared for that information.” Gabe smiled.

They were sitting on the back deck in lounge chairs, drinking Cokes and enjoying the sun’s warmth and the sea’s cleansing air. Angelica had found a bikini and was on her back with a magazine over her face. Her gentle breathing suggested sleep, but at least she was deeply relaxed.

“I have a lot to thank you for, Gabe,” Paul began, his demeanor serious and voice soft. “I had a lot of time to think while I was in that hospital bed, and I realized how much of a jerk I’ve been. You were only trying to help me and Mom and Emily. I should have trusted you and listened.”

“It was a hard time for all of us,” Gabe said. “Your dad was more of a brother to me than just a best friend. I miss him every day.”

“And then there was the drug thing . . .”

“There was.”

“That’s over now. I’ll never go there again. Not after seeing all this.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“There’s one more thing. You and Mom. If … well … I guess I’m okay with it if you want to . . .”

Gabe looked at him more intently. This was a big step for Paul, and Gabe wanted to be sure Paul was serious. “If I want to . . .?”

“You know, you and Mom, if you want to be together.”

“Okay. I appreciate that, and I’m sure your mom will too, but right now we’re just good friends, and I don’t know if that’s going to change.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Look, I know what I said, but I wouldn’t mind . . .”

“Yes. Go on.”

“You’re making this hard. You know what I mean.”

“Well, if that happens, I wouldn’t mind having you as a son either. But here’s the deal: I can always be your friend. Your dad wanted that, and I do too. That means I’ll always listen and try to help, no matter what. It doesn’t mean you get a free pass to be rude to your mom or do other dumb stuff. But my commitment is to always be here. Does that sound about right?”

“Yes, sir. That’s about right.”

“Good. I’m glad. Now we need to talk about your truck. I hope this is all right with you. I bought it from the insurance company and had the engine flushed and filled with fresh oil, then towed to our garage at the river house. I thought when this is over, you and I might see if we can salvage it. I’m not the mechanic your dad was, but we’ve got his tools, and those old Fords were pretty straightforward. I think your dad would like that.” He put a hand on Paul’s shoulder and looked deeply into the boy’s soul. Paul didn’t react at first. Because the words wouldn’t come. When he did respond, he just nodded. He nodded, and there were tears in his eyes. That was good.

An hour past the Galveston channel, headed toward Baytown and the slip Tom had reserved by phone at Bayland Marina, Gabe was at the helm and Tom was sleeping on the couch behind the two helm seats. The Benson girls were rested, showered, and fed, and Senator Benson, their grandfather, was flying in to meet the boat.

Paul and Angelica were on the back deck in the loungers and the other four team members were packing gear and completing reports in the salon. Javier and his two crew were handcuffed on the front deck where Tom could keep an eye on them. It had been an easy night crossing the Gulf and approaching the channel through the Baytown offshore oil field.

It was an old field, the offshore extension of the Goose Creek inland field discovered in 1903, and that played a significant role in the early Texas oil boom. The Baytown refinery, the second largest in the US, was built in the early twentieth century and was still a major producer. Its towers and stacks were visible as Gabe cut speed and swung the bow toward the marina at the north edge of the expansive bay. Tom felt the power and course change and sat up on the couch.

“There’s fresh coffee,” Gabe said.

Tom went to the wet bar, poured a mug, and then settled into the left seat next to the helm. He scanned the radar and the Garmin navigation system before taking his first sip. He put the mug down, ran his fingers