The Hacker Who Becomes a Mafia-Consultant in the Caribbean After a Diamond Coup in Bangkok

by Stieve Adams

binoculars from a Swedish tourist and see something similar to a tourist hotel. The Swede, who read the map, states that it is Banana Bay, an isolated hotel on the south coast of Kitts. There is no way to the south of the island, but all traffic must be done by boat.

  I'm looking at the coast through the binoculars as far as it goes, it looks pretty odd. Should you go to the south coast, you must either cross a 300 meter high mountain or walk along a rugged beach.

  "What you seem interested in Banana Bay," says Cheryl. I'm hoping for a little guilty and instead targeting binoculars against Nevis as we approach well. It looks like we're approaching an old-fashioned sugar plantation. Or at least one manor house with large palm trees, lawned lawns and a serving. Given that I still have not received any breakfast, the dining seems at least appealing to me.

  The Americans are a welcome companion, easily spoken like most Americans. The catamaran drives up on the beach and I walk up to dinner and order a nice breakfast. An hour later, the coffee comes and another half an hour later, the rest of the breakfast comes. Even because I start to get used to the pace of the Caribbean, but to wait for breakfast until it's time for lunch is a little cool, I think. My female American company has gone to the mansion and been on a tour.

  The wings of history are reminded everywhere on these islands. When I'm sitting at Nisbet Plantation, I'm reminded that Fanny Nisbet, who was married to the famous Lord Nelson, came from this plantation. After lunch at breakfast I took a bath and dried in the shade of a palm on the beach. As I kissed against the lake, I saw a similar motor cruiser that we quarrelled to Black Rocks yesterday. I walked to the Swedish people and borrowed his binoculars again. On board I found myself now seeing figures that could be our "friends" from Bangkok.

  I became nervous and began to think they were looking for me why I hid in the shadow of a palm. I feel that there is something behind the palm, turning around and staring into a pair of black eyes. The eyes sat in a beautiful face surrounded by long black hair that I followed my eyes down to the bust that was inside a long colourful dress in red and white.

  "Hoppla", slim it out of me "excuse me ..."

  I now recognize her from my last visit to Antigua. Then she had a big black gun in her hand, now she had no big black gun in any hand and inside that dress she could not hide the smallest weapon without it being visible. I was relieved so far, there was no imminent danger. If there was no black-minded broad-haired individual in the background. I looked around, but everything looked so peaceful.

  "We know you know," she said.

  "Oh well," I said in awaiting.

  "We have an offer ..."

  "Who we?"

  "The owners of what you know. We have an offer that you should not refuse. We offer one hundred thousand dollars for the right information."

  "American or Caribbean dollars?" I ask the most for thinking about it.

  She had a figure that could suit the model or maybe she had been miss Mexico or Miss Acapulco. She definitely belonged to the Mexican falcon who was looking for something in these waters. In further reflection, she could not have missed Mexico, not with the eyes of black diamonds drilling in my poor thinking.

  "Yes, I do not have anything with me. How do I know, by the way, that you are not gangsters trying to steal what it is?", I say

  "As I just said," said the good Mexican, "we offer a good amount of money for something that you have. Then we advise you to forget our existence, leave you from the Caribbean, travel home to Scotland if you want to forget That you have met us at all times. "

  Could it be so easy to get rid of this soup.

  "Hello, Ham!" Two American young ladies come hottest and wave over the beach. "Come on, we'll go on!"

  Saved by the gong-boy you could say. The Mexican pulled away and I thanked my lucky star that Cheryl and her friend arrived so timely.

  "Did she try to attract you to the island's brothel?" Asks Cheryl half playfully. "She was not your type. Now we will look at the bed room where Lord Nelson spent many beautiful moments." Actually, I would have to think about the situation in peace and quiet. Should I get out of my mind if I took the bid from the Mexican. But the guys from Bangkok then, they would not stop chasing me. And how did Valerie and Boy come into the picture, I could not let them down. On the Thailand, the boat I saw I had totally forgotten. A quick look at the sea shows that it had disappeared.

  12. Mosquito Bay

  Upon returning to Island Paradise, Valerie and Boy waited in my room. Fortunately, the Americans went home immediately but promised to come over soon so we could have dinner together. Say what you want about the Caribbean, you do not have to be alone. I would not mind having a little calmer, there were actually some people as complicated existence, if you say so.

  "We have to equip an expedition," says Valerie. "We've got backpacks and supplies and early tomorrow we'll get rid of."

  "Well, joho," I say stupidly, "where then?"

  "You know exactly where," she says, "you are the one who has talked about it. It was you who found the coordinates!"

  "Yes, of course, but ..." I could not do anything but right now so I quieted.

  "Come, Boy, we have to go back to Basseterre. We'll be back early tomorrow," Valerie announces and removes. I can not be wise at her. I remember her as a soft and good friend from our common adventure, but now she is strictly business-like, almost like an official. She actually has some persuasiveness. Not so small either, I do not feel commanded, but I feel that I'm doing what I want, even though it's actually she who has decided everything ever since we met by chance a few days ago.

  If it is an expedition that applies then it is only to accept and to exert yourself for this. At least I will get real clothes. Those I have are not very neat and I feel that I exposed my poor body to too much sun. I'm kidding off to the area's grocery store and getting me a pair of jeans, t-shirts and sweaters that promote St. Kitts and a wild-west straw hat. I also find a backpack. Now I'm ready for the expedition!

  At home, the Americans are waiting for me. They bring a jug and fix to a baked potatoes roast and American black coffee that does not taste as black as it looks. After the food, I drop down on the couch while the girls manage the dishes. Thirty seconds later I sleep like a stock. I wake up half past half as the Americans lead me to bed, get rid of me, stop me and say

  "Poor Ham, very well-behaved, he can not tolerate our American pace."

  They just wanted to know my experiences before I met them yesterday, then maybe they would understand that more than they thought was needed to make a shot go out. I thought foolishly before falling asleep. Or am I getting old when not even two adorable young women could keep me awake.

  It was still dark when I woke up because someone was in the room. Now I was awake, the skin tickled, even though it was hot. The fan was spinning, but I heard or rather felt something in the room. Suddenly a flashlight flashes in the middle of my face and I am stuck under the bed sheet and prepare me for the worst.

  "Hello, Hamilton," says a familiar voice, and I relax. "I have to look for if you were alone in bed," says Valerie. But I think she enjoyed being scared.

  "Up slowpoke," she continues, "now is the time for the expedition to start."

  Just dress the newly purchased clothes and get away. In any case, it is a few kilometres above the probably untidy terrain before we reach our destination.

  "Here you have our means of delivery," points out Valerie. Just outside the gate are three horses of indefinite breed. Saddled and stuffed saddlebags. There are also spades, water bottles and lots of practical things.

  "You are incredible," I say surprised. "I really appreciate this and I thought we would go on foot all the way."

  We are heading south to the south and are a few hours later heading for a lake. It looks cool and beautiful at the water so we sit down and take a short break. I'm going to cool in the water, but it does not look so inviting when I arrive. I wash my face but notice that it is salty water. Very salty water, althoug
h the lake is quite large. In fact, it is the Great Salt Pond, I know. We drop into the shade of some bushes, drink of our Mediterranean water, eat a light lunch and take a short siesta.

  As I lie there, kisses against the eastern hill, I see a reflex from something.

  "Included binoculars in the equipment," I ask Boy, who is closest to the gasket.

  "Sure," he says, picking up a big and handsome binoculars. I take shelter behind a bush and direct the binoculars against the sun cat I thought I saw. And finally I see that there are some people who are on the slope opposite. Just like us, they shave in the shade of some trees.

  "What are we supposed to believe about them?" I ask straight into the air.

  "Get see!", Valerie cries up and kisses the binoculars. But it's too far away to see if it's Thai or Mexican or something more or less peaceful company. "We are in violation of them," Valerie believes "there are probably only some tourists".

  We continue towards our goal. I'm sincerely grateful for sitting on a horse. If I compare with the promenade on Dominica, this is a pure relaxation, although the sun is steeped in from the above. Throughout the trip we check all directions to see if we were persecuted. But we do not see any traces of any other people so we relax and find that there are only a few tourists in any case.

  Eventually, we reach our predetermined position. But the position indication is not as accurate as we