Chapter Four: Confrontation On The Docks

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It was late afternoon, and the sun was gradually sinking lower in the sky. The ship's loading was almost complete, with only one more rack of rubber tree saplings to be loaded. Joseph regarded the racks already in the cargo bay with an expression of resignation. He wasn't looking forward to the extra work the cargo involved, but at least it paid well; he and Tyrone would be only one or two more runs from being able to buy a second ship.

Several dock workers walked through the cargo bay inspecting the irrigation connections on the racks already loaded. They were leaving nothing to chance, for which he was grateful. He didn't really know that much about the irrigation system, and didn't want to mess with it any more than they absolutely had to.

"Almost finished." Randal, the dock foreman who had been directing the loading of their ship all day, made the announcement as he joined Joseph on the decking inside the cargo bay. "The lift operator radioed that he just picked up the last rack at the other side of the docks and he's on his way back."

"Good to hear." Tyrone wasn't the only one who had been concerned about the delicate nature of the plants. The port administrators hadn't been willing to take responsibility for storing them, concerned about the damage one errant lift vehicle or cargo container might do. They had insisted the farm deliver them the day of the shipment, so each rack had to come all the way across the port.

"Yeah. Sorry for the delays. I don't know why the office folk couldn't just think of somewhere out of the way to stash these until you got here."

"It's inconvenient." Joseph nodded. "Still, I can understand their position. It's expensive cargo to damage."

About that moment a dark gray luxury sedan turned into the docking bay. Both Joseph and Randal looked up to watch it approach. Joseph felt the nervous lurch of being caught at something. It rapidly gave way to angry resolve.

Randal frowned slightly. "What's this about? Private vehicles aren't allowed to drive around the port unless they belong to one of the ships at dock."

"I have a guess. When you get a chance, tell the office they may want to screen the security staff again." He slid his phone from the pocket of his jacket and dialed Tyrone.

"Yes?" Tyrone dragged out the word a bit as he answered.

"Looks like they're here to argue. Grab a rifle and come back to the cargo bay, would you?"

"On the way."

The line clicked dead as the sedan stopped, still a good distance from the bottom of the last open loading door. Joseph offered a quick prayer of thanks that he'd had the presence of mind to close the rest as they stopped using them.

"I'll radio security," Randal commented. "I get the impression we're going to need them. We don't particularly want a gun battle breaking out in the port. There's a lot of expensive things that could get broken."

Sure enough, Terrence emerged from the back of the sedan. Three more men who probably served as his bodyguards and bouncers at the club accompanied him. They looked like exactly the kind of thugs Joseph would expect to be involved in such a business. Tough enough, but without much in the way of training. They were violent, and would be happy enough to administer beatings to people who crossed their boss, but their loyalty was not to be relied on.

"I remember you." Terrence examined Joseph through narrowed eyes. "You were at the diner this morning."

"That would make you Taylor Reed then." Joseph watched for, and saw, the anger flash across the man's face before he schooled himself back to a neutral expression. In a gang that operated on intimidation, to be feared by and outsider was to be respected by those in the club. To be considered insignificant by the same outsider was to lose standing. Joseph would make certain Terrence lost plenty today.

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