Benjamin Wallace Tortugas Rising (epub)

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.The Rainbow Connection’s engineer stood back to inspect the damage.“It’ll be all patches soon.I’m getting a little tired of these Bondo jobs.How long are we going to let them do this?”“If we get the launch fixed in time, we should be able to hit the island tonight.” Jefferson spit on the deck.“Is Reynolds back with the Zodiac yet?”“Not yet.He should be.”David Jefferson looked off at the nearest island; a marvel to some, trouble to him.An entire ImagiNation rising from the gulf was unnatural in its truest sense.He shook off the disgust.“Give me an ETA on repairs when you can.I’m going to grab a bite to eat.What’s in the mess for lunch?”“Steak.”He cast one more glance toward the islands and then stepped below to eat.Fredericks sat at a table on the far side of the mess hall.The man was so tall that he hunched as he shoveled food into his mouth with one hand and worked the keyboard of a scratched and beaten laptop with the other.He spotted Jefferson and waved him over.Jefferson sat across from him and let the bulk of his weight rest on the table.“What’ve you got?”The wiry man spun the laptop around to face David.Jefferson leaned in closer and saw an online profile that outlined the man they had splashed.He squinted.“It’s Steven Bennett,” said Fredericks.“Bennett? He isn’t supposed to be here.”“He’s here.”“This isn’t good.What’s his background?”Fredericks turned the screen back around and pulled up a second file.He scanned the information and called out the highlights.“Steven Bennett.28.Get this? The kid’s a billionaire.He inherited it from his father.”“Another rich kid playing with Daddy’s money.”“No.It says here that he didn’t even know he was rich until several months after his father died.”“They weren’t close, huh?”“Not at all.Bennett didn’t know whose kid he was until the lawyers tracked him down.”“Still.I thought he wasn’t coming.”Conner Fredericks shrugged.“Doesn’t matter,” David Jefferson stood and shook the concern out of his expression.“It’s too late to do anything about it now.We go ahead with the plan.” The hemp shirt had risen up his back; he pulled it down over his massive frame and made his way to the serving line to get some steak.# # #Captain Richards stroked his silvered beard.Each gray hair marked a day running cargo across the Atlantic.This job was his retirement run – easy and safe.All he was hauling now was dirt – earth dredged from the bottom of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway.Scoop it up, steam to the Tortugas Banks, and pump it out; that was all there was to it.He still had the nerves for stormy weather, but spending most of the job in the protected river way wasn’t causing him to complain.If there was anything to complain about it was the distance of the haul.Dirt was everywhere.Soil lined the bottom of the gulf.Yet, they were hauling it hundreds of miles from the Intracoastal.The reason had been made clear to him.The reclamation project could only proceed in the Tortugas Banks if the project served a greater purpose.Forming new islands near a national park would have been impossible if the company had not agreed to dredge 90% of the reclaimed earth from the clogged transportation route.The logistics frustrated him, though not enough to add more gray to his beard.At his age he should have been getting his legs back under him ashore, but the money had been substantial enough to keep him off the porch and man one more helm.And since the company had provided him the latest dredging ship to command, he had very little to do other than give orders to the crew and say, “very well.”There was a time in his life when such little involvement would have made him restless; but that time was twenty years ago.His wife had her eye on some property in the mountains of Colorado, far away from the sea, and, whenever the ship was pointed in the right direction, he would kick back and think about the large log home she told him he was going to build her.She would decorate the home; there would be no stopping that.His grandchildren would run and play and break the nice things he had brought her from his many trips across the world.But that’s what grandkids were for.A wood shop out back would be his escape.And that would be his.All his.Dark and quiet, it would have a giant padlock on the door that could be locked from the inside and out.A chime brought him back from the Rockies as the hopper neared capacity.The sluice foamed as soil filled the large tank in the center of the ship.“80 percent, Captain.” The crewman working the dredge’s pumps was one of the best in the world.The company had made up for the distance by hiring the best crew possible.“Another half hour and we’ll be ready to head back to the chain.”“Very well,” said Captain Richards.“Very well.”SEVENThe bags hit the floor and Paul hit the couch.“Wake me for lunch.”“It’s brunch.”“I don’t want brunch,” Paul draped his arm over his eyes.“When they put away the crepes and break out the burgers, you’ll know where to find me.I need a little booze-snooze if we’re having cocktails tonight.I want to be in peak condition.”“Do you ever think that you drink too much?” Steve sat his bag down and dug his wallet from his pocket.“No, but I know that you talk too much.”“You don’t…”“See? More talking.”Steve tipped the porter.Paul began to snore [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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