Season THREE – Episode 10 – “Bait and Switch”
Entering the parking lot of the marina at Sand Point Beach—the third parking space to the left of the entry was available—Sally whipped the Toyota Corolla into the gap and slid the gear shifter into park.
“You two wait here I’ll be back in a shake. Gimme that backpack” requested Sally. Then she removed one of the Austrian made Glock Gen5’s from the bag and slid it into her jacket pocket. This would be added insurance per chance anyone inside had intentions of pulling a “Bait and Switch”.
The bell on the glass door jingled as she put her shoulder into the weight of the hinged restrictor arm that controls the tension between the door and the wall. Inside the aerators ran boldly outweighing the noise of anglers and shop keepers exchanging cash for baited dreams.
Opposite the entry of the building were metal sliding doors cast open to the salt breeze coming off the bay. You could taste the humidity that hung in the air and suddenly Sally caught herself wondering why she had agreed to this mission and was not living her fashion world life of photo shoots and fishing adventures.
Vintage black and white photographs—faded color prints—current computer printed action shots lined the walls of the store boasting broad smiles and magnificent catches. “I wonder how Rusty and Link are faring” was her next thought.
Then a man with a basket containing beach worms, pilchards, and fresh squid bumped her torso and broke the trance. “Excuse me mam—might I help you find something?” he offered.
“Ahhh yes” responded Sally, I have an afternoon charter fishing excursion booked. Might you point me in the direction of where to check in?”
“Absolutely—My name is William—I’m with Catch Me If You Canuck fish packaging. Follow me outside to the pier and I’ll help you locate the charter manager.”
“Thanks” Sally responded. “My fishing friends refer to me as EagleOne.”
There were no less than 50 sportfishing boats tied to the dock—along with that many empty slips that were currently void of boats. Most likely angling enthusiasts already out of the harbor and on the big water chasing Australian salmon.
Sally made her way down the pier following the man with the basket of bait. The afternoon sun glorified the shallow turquoise water and momentarily put her mind at ease. They stopped on the main dock near a Grady-White Canyon 456 center console. The 45ft offshore vessel was powered with Quad XTO Yamaha 450’s giving her 1800 horsepower and a top cruising speed of 58.0 MHP.
“Waiting—waiting—waiting—” Hazel said aloud to no one in particular. And before she could finish her sentence the Ford Falcon GT-HO Phase III street rod from back in Woodanilling appeared in her passenger side mirror.
“What is it?” Ellie tensed.
“I just caught a glimpse of Too-Tall and Shorty-Short going by in the Falcon. Grab the backpack and let’s go!”
With Hazel leading the charge—she and Ellie burst through the front entry of the bait shop and immediately caught sight of Sally standing 50-yards down the pier next to a boat with three men on board who appeared to be amid a conversation.
First, she heard the commotion inside the bait shop—then from her peripheral Sally witnessed EagleTwo and EagleThree on the dead sprint coming her direction. Pulling the Glock Gen5 from her jacket she produced the firearm and queried, “Permission to come aboard gentleman?” Then followed by adding “Get this skiff fired up—here comes my team!”
The captain and first mate were left at the dock while newly acquired contact William powered the skiff at half-step out of the harbor and toward the blue of the ocean. Sally, Ellie, and Hazel were below deck of the center console changing to more appropriate summer sportfishing wear, disguising themselves as fishing tourists, and cleverly hiding miscellaneous weapons being shared amongst the trio.
Five miles offshore they arrived at what appeared to be an uninhabited Caye with William idling down the Quad Yamaha’s—trimming jack plates to shallow water mode—entering a natural harbor parting mangroves to conceal the boat.
“Waiting—waiting—waiting—” Hazel once again said aloud as William had called for them to join him on the main deck as the newly formed foursome awaited further instruction. Five minutes—ten minutes—half hour—the satellite phone rang.
“Copy that” was Williams’ only response. Then he returned the phone to the console compartment, ignited the four Yamaha outboard motors, and backed his way out of the hidden mangrove channel.
“What’s the plan?” asked Sally.
“We are to reunite with the captain and first mate whom we left back at the marina. They have acquired another vessel, along with two passengers, and plan to meet us further west at a Caye with a safehouse.
“Safehouse?” responded Ellie and then heavily exhaled. “The last time I heard that—It ended up with me being knocked out—bound and gagged.”
William spun the Grady-White in a one-eighty, powered up the Quad XTO Yamaha’s, and was quickly on step heading west toward their instructed rendezvous. Sally stood fast in the co-pilot’s position brooding to herself over the possibility of being drawn into a “Bait and Switch”.
Back at the island on Lac des Bois—Rusty Flathers and Professor Cosmoid Scale were spinning in one-eighties as well. The barrel stove in the main lodge had heated the building quickly enough, but the unidentified varmints who had built a nest inside the upper portion of the stove pipe were now responsible for an overwhelming backdraft of smoke filling the building.
Clearing about in circles inside the main lodge, both Rusty and Cos bumped and bounced and spun their way toward windows to escape the smoke. Outside the rains continued and there were more geese gathering in the harbor—questioning the puffs of clouds exiting the lodge.
One gander let out a raucous “HERRRR-ONKKKK” and Rusty was undecided if it was a statement of alarm, or he and Cos were being wildly laughed at. The verdict remained at large.
-To Be Continued-