Page 67 of Stone Coast (Tyson Wild Thriller)

A black SUV with tinted windows pulled into the parking lot of the marina.

Gavin, Ross’s right-hand man, parked the vehicle, then hopped out and pulled open the rear door.

He was a clean cut guy with curly brown hair, blue eyes, and a boyish face.

He was the ass-clown that hired Raymond at the behest of Ross. Had to be.

With the rifle against my shoulder, I had the SUV lined up in my sights. I was just waiting for Ross to step out, ready to put a bullet into the scumbag.

My pulse throbbed my ears. I steadied myself and drew a deep breath.

A million thoughts ran through my head. The jumble of memories becoming more and more coherent. Was I really going to kill this man in cold blood?

Damn right I was .

A second shot to take out Gavin would decapitate leadership.

The group would be in disarray. And I’d spend the rest of my life on the run, looking over my shoulder.

I tried to justify it in my mind—I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder either way.

I knew things about Ross and his operation that he didn’t want public.

Things turned upside down when Olivia emerged from the SUV. Ross was close behind her, a discrete pistol in her ribcage.

Olivia handled it well, no doubt with plenty of sassy responses.

Ross gripped onto her arm, still in the SUV.

I didn’t have a clear shot.

My phone buzzed with a call.

I didn’t want to answer, but I knew the call wasn’t random. Through my scope, I watched Gavin with the phone to his ear.

After a few rings, I disengaged, pulled the phone from my pocket, and answered.

Gavin said, “Before you follow through with your plan, you should know a sniper has a sight picture on you, and you’re dead if you so much as flinch.”

I looked at my chest to see an unsettling red dot hovering over my heart.

"Now that we’re on the same page," Gavin continued, "meet us aboard the Silent Catch. Unarmed. Leave your weapons on the rooftop. Don't make any calls or texts. We’re monitoring your communications. I'd hate for something to happen to Olivia. She’s so full of life. It would be a shame to cut that short.”

Needless to say, this situation didn't turn out as planned.

I set the rifle down with a careful gesture, unholstered the 9mm pistol, and set it on the gritty asphalt roof. With slow, deliberate movements, I climbed to my feet, keeping my hands in the air.

“Stay where you are until we are aboard,” Gavin said.

I stood there, the red dot on my chest as they marched Olivia down the dock and boarded the rust bucket. They disappeared below deck.

Gavin said. “We’ll see you shortly.”

He ended the call.

The red dot followed me all the way to the access hatch.

I flipped it open, climbed the ladder down to the fourth floor, then took the dark stairs back down to ground level. I stepped outside, walked across the grounds, and climbed the chain-link fence, then moved to the dock.

The red dot followed.

I looked up at the sniper atop the neighboring building and waved.

The barrel followed me as I moved across the dock and climbed the gangway to board the Silent Catch.

The faded blue trawler was bubbling with a patina of rust. The red antifouling paint on the hull was now a distressed shade of pink.

The Arctic white superstructure was bubbling and yellowed.

The remnants of fish guts had permeated every aspect of the deck.

The pungent aroma was permanent. The briny air swirled, and the boat creaked and groaned as it shifted with the gentle waves that lapped against the hull.

As I stepped inside the superstructure, more memories came flooding back. This wasn’t my first time aboard this boat. If I wasn't careful, it would be my last.

I took the centerline companionway below deck.

A flashlight spotted my eyes.

“Glad you could join us,” Ross said.

Gavin emerged from the shadows behind me with a pistol aimed at my head.

“Where’s Olivia?”

“She’s safe,” Ross assured.

“Let her go.”

“All in good time,” Ross assured. “First, let’s have that conversation you wanted.”