Half Moon Bay III
Drug smuggling Catholic Saints investing into America’s future.
TWK – Publishing
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Luke 28 – .…………………………………………………………………….5
Proverbs 18 – ………………………………………………………………..17
A Free bonus…………………………………………………………………32
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HALF MOON BAY
PART III of III
By: Travis Knoll
The chorus sings “Jesus Paid it All” in praise of God. The congregation is filled with members of the church smiling and clapping their hands. St. James is in the back of the church. Sister Maria walks in, smiles at the spiritual energy, and sits next to St. James.
Directly across from them is Detective John Samuels in a brown suit. In the middle of the church is Captain Jacobs with his family, and just in front of him, sitting in the pew, is Officer Coolidge with his wife.
God stands in front of the processional at the podium. He smiles a confident smile as he looks out over the congregation that is thirsting for knowledge.
“Let us pray,” God says as he bows his head. “The good Lord will hate me if I don’t wish the two teams in today’s Super Bowl God’s speed. Please bow your heads.” The congregation follows God as they all bow their heads in unison.
“Dear Lord, our heavenly father, please watch over Christians everywhere in this world being upheld in Jesus’ name,” God prays.
As God continues to pray, Detective John Samuels walks behind St. James. He hands him a business card reading: John Samuels, F.B.I Agent.
“Lord, give us strength to take on this and every day with the courage to challenge what is right, and let us pray as you have told us father. Our father, who art in heaven…”
God glances at John Samuels handing the business card to St. James. God continues with the Lord’s prayer. St. James looks at the business card. His eyes widen and his muscles spasm at the sight of the agent’s name. “I have some information about your father.” Detective Samuels says, and St. James turns his head to look at him . “Come with me,” the detective continues.
Sister Maria watches as St. James follows the detective to the front entrance.
Toward the entrance of the church and away from people, Detective Samuels looks at God in the distance, and can hear him finish the Lord’s prayer. He pulls St. James aside, visibly distraught and perspiring.
“What you’re doing here isn’t the smartest thing for a bright kid like you,” the detective says in a soft tone as St. James furrows his brow.
“I thought that you had information about my father,” St. James says, and in the background, God and the congregation say, “Amen.”
“His death wasn’t an accident, but if you can get me evidence on these guys in the act of criminal activity, I’ll tell you the truth,” the detective says.
“You’re lying. You don’t know anything about my father, and what the hell do you want in the first place?” St. James asks as the detective pulls out a picture of him standing next to St. James’s father. The picture looks aged. St. James takes it in with a raised brow.
“Get me something tangible that I can hold them to. This isn’t your family, bud. They don’t give a shit about you,” the detective says as St. James takes the picture and places it in his top pocket, next to the business card from the detective.
St. Peter comes walking from behind them. The detective looks over his shoulder and pats St. James’ pocket, where the picture and business card are.
“Is everything alright here, St. James?” St. Peter asks.
“Fine, I was just leaving.” Detective Samuels smiles at St. Peter and walks out.
“What the hell did he want?”
“Nothing. He was giving his blessing about my father.”
St. Peter walks into God’s office and sits at his desk. God looks at the window. “Is he ready?” God asks.
“I mean, were any of us ready for this? He seems like a nice kid, but I think he’s too close to you,” St. Peter says.
“You needed a family and I brought you in. We need people,” God says as he turns and sits in his chair, he looks at St. Peter. God rubs his chin and gives St. Peter a conspiratorial look. “The boy is young, innocent, and naive. He’s almost perfect,” God says. He picks up a barcode scanner, and scans St. Peters barcode.
“The details will be sent to you through the GPS on the Old Endeavor. We’re running three cigarette boats simultaneously with four tumors off two freighters. The kicker is we’re working with the Jews tonight.”
“What’s the take?”
“50/50 split for St. James and Sister Maria, and you will get 100-grand. Plus, everyone gets an equity investment with the VC of .5%. It’ll tide us over ‘til the sheep have another game to watch,” God says as he looks at his wristwatch.
“You’ll have about three hours to pull off the cargo. We only have one shot at this. There is zero room for error,” God continues.
“You took care of the cops then?”
“Yes, everything is in place. And St. Peter? Take St. James under your wing for this one,” God says and St. Peter nods in understanding. He walks out and dials the rest of the crew.
Aboard the Old Endeavor yacht, St. James and Sister Maria take inventory of the items on the boat. They pull three black jumpsuits. St. Peter boards the boat with a smile.
“We ready?” St. Peter asks with a smile.
St. James and Sister Maria smile at each other. St. Peter scans his barcode to the GPS scanner on the boat. It brings up lines of code, giving the exact location of the boats for the cargo to be picked up.
The three all look at the coordinates and St. Peter sets the alarm on his watch for three hours. He grabs a radio and turns the dial to the broadcast of the Super Bowl. The announcer comes in loudly…
“Welcome to Super Bowl XIX. Today we have one hell of a game, folks! The 49ers and the Dolphins” The announcer says.
St. Peter turns the radio down. They can only faintly hear the announcer’s voice. “We got three hours. Now we’re working with the Jews on this one, so let’s make God happy.”
Sister Maria hands the full-body black suits to St. Peter and St. James. St. James shakes nervously as he puts his on. Sister Maria places her hand on his shoulder.
“It’s ok, this is what we do. It’ll be over before you know it,” Sister Maria says, and St. Peter hits him in the back playfully. “Yeah, kinda like a romp in the sac with you, fucka.”
They’re all dressed like ninjas. They walk out to the cabin of the boat and in the water are three small cigarette boats. St. Peter points to the right in the distance at a small, flashing light. The others look on.
“The rabbis are meeting us halfway on. They’ve already taken the tumors off and we just have to pull in the cargo, here…” St. Peter says and takes a small bag off his shoulder, handing them each a pair of top-of-the-line night vision goggles, and a small 7×7 black space blanket that they can put in their pocket. He looks at his watch.
“We have three hours. If we pass time it’s gonna be like the zoo let out the animals,” St. Peter states. He points at a space blanket that he is handing to them. “The space blanket is for concealment. If you see a chopper, drape it over yourself, and you’ll be invisible for a moment… we should have it done in three trips.”
St. Peter pulls a small flashlight out of his pocket, and flashes it at the area where the Jews are, on the other side of dock number 2011. The light stops flashing and remains lit.
“If that light starts to flash again, get the fuck out,” St. Peter says.
A small beep sounds. The GPS timing on the boat and St. Peter’s watch are synced. “Game time! This is our payday, now let’s make it happen,” St. Peter says. They walk to the edge of the cockpit of the boat, and beside it are three black cigarette boats. St. Peters jumps in the boat. St. James takes a deep breath and looks back at Sister Maria. “We can have a drink when this is all over…” Sister Maria says to St. James with a smile.
Sister Maria and St. James hop in their cigarette boats, and head mid-throttle toward the tanker ship in the distance. St. Peter leads, and they pause as they get to the rabbi at the midway point to the tanker.
“Sister Maria, run the right flank with the rabbis,” St. Peter says and points at St. James to follow him, and Sister Maria stays. Another boat slowly pulls up to meet Sister Maria. The rabbi and Sister Maria quietly and quickly fill her boat.
St. James follows St. Peter toward a large tanker on the left flank. The back hatch of the tanker slowly lowers, and a Hasidic Jew in a suit smiles at them. “Lehayim! Stop ya schlepping on my bay,” the rabbi says. St. Peter rolls his eyes and the Jews load both of their boats. He looks at his watch, which reads one and a half hours left. “We’re pushing it, here,” St. Peter says.
They head back to the Old Endeavor yacht. The water splashes their faces and the waves toss the cigarette boats in all directions. All three cigarette boats park in the distance behind the tanker ship. A light from a helicopter in the distance is hitting the water and moving rapidly. They quickly load again and hit the one-hour mark. St. Peter looks at his watch.
“We have just enough time,” St. Peter says.
St. Peter points in a military fashion to his eyes and then at the tanker ship to remain focused. They fill up at the tanker and head back with 20 minutes to spare.
The street light of the marina lights the way for Detective John Samuels as he drives around it in his unmarked car. His partner, Detective Halloway, takes a puff of his cigarette and throws it out the window. Halloway turns the Super Bowl Announcement up on the radio.
“Forty yards and the 49ers are champs. Winner takes all…” the announcer says in an enthusiastic tone of voice.
Detective Halloway looks around the docks. Everything appears to be normal and quiet. “It seems pretty quiet,” Halloway says.
Detective Samuels looks around and sees a helicopter in the distance. He grabs the radio from the dash.
“Chopper 1-1, this is Detective John Samuels with the FBI. Do you see any activity around your harbor?”
A masked sound of the helicopter spiraling in the distance is heard as the radio back feeds. “Copy that sir. I will give it eyes on and inspect the perimeter,” the helicopter’s pilot says. “Copy, out,” Detective Samuels replies.
God looks at a monitor in his office that shows the group’s movements. He looks at his watch and clenches his teeth. From the top drawer of his desk he pulls out a non-traceable blocking microchip and inserts it into his phone. God dials the local Sheriff department and the phone rings.
“This is Officer Coolidge; how may we help you?”
“Yes officer, this is you beneficiary. There is a fire on the other side of the marina. You should go now.” God says in an authoritative voice.
“Yes sir,” the officer responds, and God hangs up the phone.
St. Peter and St. James unload onto the Old Endeavor yacht. The helicopter’s light shines on the water. Sister Maria looks up and quickly lays out the black space blanket over her for concealment. “Please God,” she says closing her eyes and holding her breath at the thought of the helicopter racing above her.
A couple of loud gun shots are heard nearby. St. Peter looks back at people walking in the area around the marina. “Looks like the 49ers won,” he says, and the helicopter leaves the area.
The radio pings and Detective John Samuels picks up the radio. The background noise resonates the sound of the continual movement of the helicopter buzzing overhead.
“I searched the perimeter and it seems to be clean. Nothing but a couple of tankers.” The helicopter pilot says.
“Copy that, thanks for the help,” the detective says and hangs up the radio abruptly. The announcer on the radio in the background announces the 49ers have won the game.
Detective Samuels and Detective Halloway pull next to two hearses that have a rabbi in each one. Detective Samuels looks at the rabbi and slows the car in curiosity. “Are you gentlemen waiting for a parade?” Detective Samuels asks.
The rabbi slowly pulls a small, silenced pistol from the center console, and puts it next to the door pointing at the detectives. “We’re transporting the departed at night so there is no traffic sir. May we help you, sir?”
Detective Samuels and Detective Halloway see the explosion in the distance. Samuels hits the gas and takes off toward the explosion.
The two hearse wagons that have a rabbi in each idle in the front of the dock. The three Saints walk toward the cars with large black bags filled with drugs. “Are you sure we can trust these guys?” St. James asks as Sister Maria looks at St. Peter. “They’re more to be trusted than us…” Sister Maria says.
Everyone rapidly loads the back of the hearse. St. James looks at the two hearses full of drugs and closes the door.
A rabbi is at the wheel with the car running. St. Peter opens the door and looks at St. James. “Shalom my little monkeys,” the rabbi says. St. James opens the back door.
“You’re good, man. I’ll take it from here. God says to stay here with the Sister and tie up the loose ends on the boat.” St. Peter says.
Sister Maria and St. James both look at each other. “Are you sure?” St. James asks.
“No… He’s trying to get that extra percentage point.” Sister Maria looks at St. Peters face as he resonates a smiles.
“Listen, St. James takes care of the Sister here, please. Come by the church tomorrow at 10 am, and we can get the both of you paid. Good work!” St. Peter says.
“Thanks, we’ll see you tomorrow,” St. James says.
St. Peter closes the door on the hearse and the car slowly pulls away. St. James grabs Sister Maria by the arm, and looks her in the eyes. “What the hell was that all about? I thought we were all friends here.” St. James says as Sister Maria turns and looks at him.
“Friends We all take the same risk and it’s really not him, it’s God,” Sister Maria says.
To the right of St. James is the public restroom. “I’ll catch up with you in a minute, ok?” St. James says, eying the bathroom. He watches as she walks down the dock.
The weathered and rusted metal door creeks as St. James opens it, and is hit by the neon lights flickering in his face. St. James walks into the bathroom, and he walks to the stall.
Detective Samuels parks his unmarked car and lets the engine run. He looks at his partner. “I have to drain the weasel. I will be right back,” Detective Samuels says. He walks into the bathroom, and stands next to St. James at the stall. They both turn their heads and look into each other’s eyes. Detective Samuels smiles and St. James greets him with a blank stare.
“Wow, fancy meeting you here. What are you doing on this side of the marina?” Detective Samuels asks as St. James furrows his brow.
“Umm. I.. Well I have a friend that has a boat over here.”
“Yeah, yeah, and money grows on trees.”
St. James finishes and Detective Samuels follows him to the bathroom sink.
“If we catch you and we will , you go down with them, but if you help, you’re protected.”
“Listen, sir, cut the bullshit. What happened to my father?”
“Ok, you want to know, Mr. Big shot? He was killed on a boat in international waters. They say it was an accident, but there was no contraband on the vessel.”
Detective Samuels takes a step closer and looks him in the eyes. “Do you think that was an accident?” Detective Samuels says as he grabs St. James’s shirt with his hands and pulls him closer. They both look into each other’s eyes and doubt fills St. James’s soul as his eyes resonate despair.
“You’re full of shit. They wouldn’t do that. I’m out of here.” St. James pushes away from the detective. He walks toward the door, and the detective grabs his arm and looks him in the face.
“It’s not too late for you. How do you think I got that picture of your father and I? He was trying to change his life, pal,” the detective says and lets him go as St. James walks out of the bathroom.
Sister Maria makes a drink at the wet bar on the Old Endeavor yacht. She turns on some soft music to the tune of Bob Dylan’s Rainy Day Woman. She takes a sip of her drink and moves her body to the sound of the music. St. James walks down the hatch of the boat, and looks at Sister Maria. He turns the radio down and looks at her.
“What the hell really happened?” St. James demands. Sister Maria looks at him, confused.
“What are you doing? That’s my song,” Sister Maria says as she looks at the radio being turned down. She turns the music back up and continues to move to the tune. He grabs her drink, forcibly places it on the counter, and grabs both of her shoulders with his hands.
“No, what really happened to my father?”
Sister Maria pushes him away, grabs her drink and sits. She takes a sip of her drink and looks at him. “You don’t get it yet, do you?” She.
“Get what?” St. James replies. Sister Maria takes a seat and lets out a deep breath.
“Ok, look it’s his game. He plays with all of us. He puts you in his web and your stuck trying to get out but there’s no way.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“God, don’t you get it? He’s in charge. You think you have a choice, but he’s toying with your ego,” Sister Maria says and St. James’ face goes to a blank stare, and he turns pale.
“He did it. He killed my father.”
The sun rises and parts its way through the tall trees in the back of the church. Both St. James and Sister Maria scan themselves into the back of the church. Their access is granted and the door opens to the underground.
St. James and Sister Maria both walk into the underground of the church. The room is filled to the brim with cocaine and marijuana that is wrapped in individual pallets and aligned in rows upon rows. The drugs are repackaged in black Saran wrap and are numbered to track inventory. St. Peter walks behind both of them. He hands each of them their pay in a brown bag filled with money.
“Here you both go. Help me real quick to put a couple of these bricks on a pallet. A truck’s coming in about an hour,” St. Peter says.
St. Peter grabs the Saran wrap and tosses it to St. James. They wrap the pallet and stack it on a pallet by Sister Maria.
“Listen you guys, before we go running off. God wants to talk to us real quick,” St. Peter says.
“Everything ok?” St. James asks.
“Everything is perfecto my man. I think he has another assignment for us.”
Sister Maria turns from wrapping the pallet and looks at St. Peter with disdain. “So soon? We usually break contact for a couple weeks…” Sister Maria says as St. Peter points to the sky.
“Take it up with the man upstairs. It’s in his hands,” St. Peter says.
St. Peter hands St. James some more of the Saran wrap and they bound the pallet securely. St. James looks at all of the drugs that are lined up throughout the warehouse. “Where does all this go?” St. James asks as they finish and walk toward the exit. St. Peter pats him on the back.
“Up the nostrils of the world’s finest… come on guys, let’s get going,” St. Peter says, and they all scan their barcodes to the censor on the wall and exit the warehouse.
Jerry Stienhouser is pacing back and forth in front of God’s desk continually talking about what’s on his mind. God sits watching him in a calm fashion. “The team is really coming together,” God says.
“Yeah, yeah. If we keep this pace, I think we should be able to establish a venture fund for some startups.”
“The goal is going to be to bring in two large shipments a month,” God says as he watches Jerry shake his right gold pinky ring and picks at a piece of food in between his teeth.
“I’m famished. You just let me know when we can get you up to our expansion in Canada.” Jerry says and they both turn their attention to a knock at the door.
“Come in.” God says. Jerry shakes God’s hands and walks toward the door. He looks at the three Saints walking in. “Hey hey. How about dem Niners!” Jerry says in an exaggerated, loud manner.
They all shake Jerry’s hand and walk toward God’s desk. Jerry waves at God standing behind his desk and walks out of the office. “You asked to see us.” St. Peter says. God gives a bright smile and claps slowly at them.
“Great work out there, team. Great work.” God says.
“What’s this about another assignment?” Sister Maria asks.
“Yes, well, I feel it’s time we expand. St. James is coming along nicely, and I believe we can push forward. The basics are this: we’re trying to clear some territory up north and get across the border into Canada. This being said, we’re taking a lot of risk… with risk comes more pay and with more pay comes more responsibility.”
“When are we planning on starting?” St. James asks. And God gives a mischievous smile.
“Tomorrow night,” God says. Sister Maria and St. James look at each other, shocked. St. Peter looks at the ground and rubs his chin in consideration of the new project. “This is pushing it; don’t you think? I hate Canadian bacon,” St. Peter retorts, and St. James takes a step toward God with his head held high looking him in the eyes.
“We can do it,” St. James says in a calm confident demeanor with that of a strong leader would have. The others
look at St. James.
“Look at the cojones.” St. Peter says.
“That’s what I like to hear. It’s double the pay. The only problem is one of you will have to cross into Canada to meet the connection,” God says.
“Is there good news?” St. Peter asks.
“Money doesn’t sleep. We prep tomorrow. Go and get some rest,” God says.
St. Peter and Sister Maria walk toward the door. St. James pauses and he looks at God. “May I speak with you for a moment?” St. James asks. St. Peter looks back and God nods his head in acknowledgement that it’s ok. St. Peter and Sister Maria walk out.
“What’s troubling you my son?”
“You did it didn’t you? You killed my father,” St. James says with conviction as he walks toward God’s desk.
God’s eyes widen in shock. He takes a seat at his desk and with his right hand, reaches to a small gun that is attached to the bottom of the desk that is pointed at St. James.
St. James takes another step toward God’s desk. God’s index finger caresses the trigger of the gun. “Son, you’ve been talking to that FED, haven’t you? What did he tell you?”
“Honestly, yes, and he told me that his death wasn’t an accident. So what really happened?” St. James asks, and God clears his throat and cocks the gun.
“Your father was a brave man son, he had one flaw. He thought he could fix anything, and he was wrong. The boat he was on had a propane leak that he didn’t check and it filled the cockpit when he was in open waters, and supposedly when he turned the ignition switch that was the spark that sank the ship. It was painless, don’t worry.”
St. James takes a seat in front of God’s desk in despair, and places his hands in his head. “You swear it was an accident?” St. James asks, and God walks toward him . He places his hands on his back, and they both look out the large window in his office.
“We all have a lot of questions son, but you need to know this is your family. We won’t hurt you and we only want the best for you. That detective has been trying to run us down for a while now. He wants to ruin what we have here, and you don’t want that do you?” God says as St. James shakes his head, no. He pats him on the back like a consoling father would, and walks back to his desk.
“Aren’t you worried about getting caught?”
“How do we get caught if there are no police and only corporations? We invest in the corporations. We own both sides… so I ask, what do you believe?” St. James sits up in his chair and looks into God’s eyes trying to find his soul.
“Excuse me, I’m not sure what you’re saying.” St. James says.
“Where does your faith lye? Is Jesus Christ and Christianity who you listen to, or are you going to rely on your own morals?”
“I believe in God, of course.”
“Then don’t worry about all the societal matters and just let God take control. In time, things will come.”
“The FED basically thinks he knows what’s going on here. I didn’t tell him anything.” St. James says as God rests back in his large plush leather seat with a smile. “I know you wouldn’t, or I would kill you,” God says, and they both sit in silence.
“I want to take lead on the next job. I can handle it.”
“Your father was afraid, but perhaps one day this could all be yours,” God says as he leans close to look at St. James with his eyes widened. “This is your family now.”
Detective Halloway walks through the office with a file in his hand. He places the file on Detective Samuels desk and points to it. “We might’ve caught a break.” Detective Halloway says and Detective Samuels leans in his desk and opens the file. He looks at Detective Halloway and turns the pages.
“Bring me good news, my friend.”
“You remember that boat off the coast of Mexico that the coasts brought in for us?” Detective Halloway asks as Detective Samuels nods his head.
“Yeah, the one with the hollow bibles in the bathroom?”
“That’s the one. Well turns out those bibles are linked to a wholesale company here in our fine state of California.”
“Do we know where?”
“We’re on that right now.”
“Have we gotten the guy on the boat to talk yet?”
“No. They planned that one out, he doesn’t even speak English and he is pretty much ready to die for the cause. They pay these guys’ families in these cases, so they’re better off on the inside,” Detective Halloway says and Detective Samuels’ phone rings.
“This is Detective Samuels. How may I help you?”
“Yes sir, this is Officer Remington. We have a 10-55 as some parts of a body have washed up on the shore. I think you’ll want to take a look at this.”
officer, give me the directions and I’ll head over there now.”
Detective Samuels writes down the directions to the location of the body. He hangs up the phone, grabs his coat and looks at Detective Halloway. “Track down who’s buying those bibles. I have to run over to the beach and work on the famer’s tan.”
Sister Maria sits in front of St. James at the Full Moon with an almost blushed smile. Dolores, the waitress, walks to their table. “What’ll you two cuties have today?” Dolores says.
“We’re waiting for someone, but I guess I have a cup of coffee for now,” Sister Maria says.
“I’ll also have a cup of joe. Thanks ma’am,” St. James adds. Dolores walks away from the table and St. James looks at his watch.
“What time was he supposed to be here?” St. James asks.
“Whenever he gets here… listen, I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” Sister Maria says. Dolores smiles at the two with their coffee on their trays and places it on the table. “Just let me know when you’re ready, no rush,” Dolores says.
“Thanks ma’am. What were you saying?” St. James’s attention diverts back to Sister Maria taking a sip of her coffee.
“There’s some things you don’t understand, but you have your father’s heart,” Sister Maria says.
A single tear grows in St. James’s eye. He takes a sip of his coffee. “What don’t I understand?”
The front door of the restaurant creaks. St. Peter and God walk through it with a smile. Sister Maria spots them out of the corner of her eye and slightly changes her mood. She stares into her coffee cup, concealing what is within her, and stirs in a packet of sugar. “Is there something wrong with me?” St. James asks.
Sister Maria looks at St. Peter and God walks toward the booth. She lowers her tone. “You need to realize that God is in control here. Be careful…” she says. St. James, confused, rests his back against the small booth. St. Peter and God walk to their booth.
“Sorry for the delay. The boss wanted to buy breakfast this morning,” St. Peter says enthusiastically. God smiles at Dolores, hugs her and gives her a kiss on the cheek.
“I don’t think you graced us with your presence at church on Sunday,” God says.
“My daughter has been ill. I am so sorry,” Dolores responds.
“The Lord sends his blessings. I hope it’s nothing serious.”
Dolores shakes her head no. God and St. Peter sit down next to St. James and Sister Maria. Dolores stands by the table with her pen and paper. “What can I get everyone today?” Dolores asks.
“Specials all around, please, dear.” God responds.
“You got it.” Dolores walks back to the kitchen. St. Peter and God look at the two at the table.
“I hope we weren’t interrupting anything?” God asks and Sister Maria and St. James both shake their heads no. “Everything is fine sir,” St. James responds.
Dolores places their coffee on the table with a smile and walks away. “We’ve had a change in plans,” God says. St. Peter pulls out a couple of envelopes and hands them to the both of them.
“We found a new product of interest that has a high margin,” God says as he looks at St. James with a smile. “We’re going to have St. James run point. Your father would be proud.” Sister Maria gives St. James a shocked look. Dolores walks to the table and places four plates of bacon and eggs on the table.
“Thanks so much, and please keep me informed on how your daughter is doing,” God says. Dolores places the bill on the table with a smile. God takes a sip of his coffee and pulls out a wad of cash in a money clip. He pushes his plate toward St. James, he places $500 cash on the check. “Be sure she gets this. St. Peter will fill you in on the rest,” God says and walks away from the table. He kisses Dolores on the cheek and walks out of the Full Moon.
“Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub… come on guys, let’s eat up. We have to run over to the dock real quick,” St. Peter says.
The cool breeze hits St. James in the face as the they all walk along dock number 2311. St. James pulls Sister Maria aside and St. Peter continues down the dock toward the Old Endeavor yacht.
“What are you talking about when you say God’s in control?” St. James says softly, and Sister Maria rolls her eyes and looks at St. Peter walk down the dock.
“You’re one naive guy. I guess so was I, but don’t you get it. We take all the risk for hardly any profit,” Sister Maria says as they continue to walk down the dock.
The morning fog conceals the ocean and the sun’s morning rays represent a grayish hue on the beach. Detective John Samuels takes a puff of his cigarette and throws it on the beach. “What do we got, officer?” the detective asks. Officer Remington walks up to John Samuels with a small note pad.
“Morning, sir. We have what appears to be what’s left of a mid-thirties male,” Officer Remington says. John Samuels looks in the direction of where the body is being identified. They walk down the beach.
“Any idea who he is?” Detective Samuels asks and Officer Remington shakes his head, no.
“Undecipherable, sir. All that’s left is an arm, sir. We are going to analyze the DNA and have it run through the system.” Officer Remington says.
Detective Samuels tips his head, lights a cigarette and they stand over the body. He furrows his brow at the site of the arm. The wave hits the arm and it rolls on the other side showing a small barcode tattoo. The coroner tries to grab it.
“Wait! Fuck… bag this up and make sure we secure this as evidence,” Detective Samuels says as he flicks his cigarette out onto the beach.
St. James and Sister Maria walk into the living quarters of the old yacht. St. Peter looks at them with a smile. He places hollowed out bibles in boxes for storage.
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with what’s in the envelope,” St. Peters says.
Both St. James and Sister Maria open their envelopes. Inside is a note describing the new product along with a thousand dollars . St. James smells the money with a euphoric smile.
“It looks like the new product is Molly. I am going to Canada to bring in the oil,” St. James says and looks at the others.
“What the hell is Molly?”
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As a thank you for being a reader I want to give you a FREE copy of my adult coloring book, and FREE downloads to the Half Moon Bay Series. It is a display of some of the photos I have compiled and books I have written.
Half Moon Bay Part III Learn how Silicon Valley started raising capital. In this book you will see our character Rick transform into the Saintly figure by God and attempt to take his rightful position at he head of God's drug smuggling ring. What will we see now… Rick has lost his father. He has become St. James and is baptized into God's drug smuggling ring of saints. How they use the church as a cover to smuggle the drugs into Half Moon Bay. Smuggling drugs on The Super Bowl. Our main character has lost his father and family for that matter and has found a new sense of belonging in Half Moon Bay. Thinking that this is God's work he takes the challenge to run with the Saints and help to smuggle in drugs during The Super Bowl. An excerpt from this book Toward the entrance of the church and away from people, Detective Samuels looks at God in the distance, and can hear him finish the Lord’s prayer. He pulls St. James aside, visibly distraught and perspiring. "What you're doing here isn't the smartest thing for a bright kid like you," the detective says in a soft tone as St. James furrows his brow. "I thought that you had information about my father," St. James says, and in the background, God and the congregation say, "Amen." "His death wasn't an accident, but if you can get me evidence on these guys in the act of criminal activity, I'll tell you the truth," the detective says. "You're lying. You don't know anything about my father, and what the hell do you want in the first place?" St. James asks as the detective pulls out a picture of him standing next to St. James's father. The picture looks aged. St. James takes it in with a raised brow. "Get me something tangible that I can hold them to. This isn't your family, bud. They don't give a shit about you," the detective says as St. James takes the picture and places it in his top pocket, next to the business card from the detective. St. Peter comes walking from behind them. The detective looks over his shoulder and pats St. James’ pocket, where the picture and business card are. "Is everything alright here, St. James?" St. Peter asks. "Fine, I was just leaving." Detective Samuels smiles at St. Peter and walks out. Download Now!