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cabin just forward of the galley, with suitcases and
scattered articles of clothing on two of them. He opened
the small access door to the locker in the eyes of the ship
and poked around in stifling semi-darkness among coils
of line and bags of spare sails until he found the awning.
He boosted it up the hatch to Ruiz, then carried it aft and
rigged it above the cockpit. The air was still far from cool
beneath it, but it did offer shelter from the pitiless glare
of the sun. They sat down, with Morrison perched on the
corner of the deckhouse holding the BAR. It s an
extension of his personality, Ingram thought; he probably
never feels comfortable without it.
Who wants a sandwich? Morrison asked.
Ingram shook his head; it was too hot to eat anything.
Makes me sick at my stomach to think about it, Rae
Osborne said. She sat up and dug listlessly in her purse
for a cigarette.
Ruiz went below and returned a few minutes later with
two sandwiches. He and Morrison ate in silence.
Morrison threw the remainder of his overboard, watched
it float away on the tide, and set the gun behind him on
Aground 66
the deckhouse. Mind the store, he said to Ruiz, and
went below. Ingram looked at the gun. Ruiz intercepted
the glance, and shook his head, the slim Latin face devoid
of any expression whatever. It was useless, Ingram knew.
They were a team, and a good one, in the skilled
profession of violence whatever their particular branch
of it was.
When Morrison returned he was carrying a tall glass
containing some colorless fluid and three ice cubes. Rae
Osborne looked at it with interest. What s that?
Rum, he said.
Is there any more?
Whole case of it, Toots. You ll have to use water,
though. We re out of Cokes.
She brightened visibly. You ve convinced me. Which
way s the bar?
Straight ahead till you come to a room full of dirty
dishes. Bottle s on the sink, reefer s under it. Bring
Herman one while you re at it.
I don t want any, Ingram said.
She disappeared below. Well, maybe that was the
practical attitude; if you couldn t whip em, join em,
especially if they had anything to drink. He removed the
soggy leather case from his shirt, found a cigar that
might be dry enough to burn, and lighted it. He stepped
back to the binnacle, removed the hood, and looked at
the compass again. The heading had changed to 012. He
nodded thoughtfully. Rae Osborne came up the ladder,
carrying her drink, and sat down with her feet stretched
out across the cockpit.
This is more like it, she said to Morrison. What
about these guns? Where are you going with them?
A place called Bahia San Felipe, just north of the
Canal.
You going to start a revolution, or what?
Morrison shook his head. We re just supplying the
stuff this time.
How did Patrick Ives get mixed up in it? It s a little out
of his line.
Morrison chuckled. Money. That s in his line, isn t it?
Aground 67
Yes. I think you could say that. And then say it again.
But just how did you meet?
I ran into him in a bar in Miami two or three weeks
ago. We got to talking about gun-running, among other
things. It was a big business around there for a while
during the Cuban fracas, you remember, and the Feds
were still uncovering a batch now and then. Anyway, I
happened to mention I knew where there was a whole
shipment hid out in an old house down near Homestead
How did you know about it? Rae Osborne asked.
From one of the boys that d been flying it in for this
particular outfit. I was in the racket myself, and knew
quite a few of em. Anyway, this Hollister or Ives as you
call him got interested in it and wanted to know what I
thought the shipment was worth. I told him probably a
hundred grand that is, delivered to somebody that
needed it bad enough. So he wanted to know if it would
be possible to lift the stuff and maybe peddle it
somewhere. I told him getting away with it would be a
cinch, but that there wasn t much market for it at
present. Then I remembered Carlos. We d been in a
couple of Central American revolutions together, besides
the Cuban one, and he knew most of the politicos-in-exile
that Miami s always full of, and could probably come up
with a customer if we could figure out a way to deliver.
That s when Ives got the idea of liberating the Dragoon.
He said he could sail it, and knew how to navigate. The
only trouble was, it d been some time since he d been
aboard the boat, and he didn t know what kind of
condition it was in naturally, we couldn t steal it and
then go in a shipyard somewhere so we d have to look it
over first. He couldn t go himself because the watchman
might recognize him and blow the whistle on him
afterward, and Carlos and I didn t know anything about
boats, so we had to send somebody else.
Rae Osbome took another sip of her drink. Do the
people who owned the guns know who got away with
them?
Morrison shook his head. Not a chance. We took em
out of the house at night with a truck we rented under a
phony name.
How did you get them aboard the Dragoon?
Aground 68
We brought her into a place down in the Keys after
dark and put em aboard with a couple of skiffs, along
with the supplies and gasoline we d picked up at different
places. We spent the rest of the night slapping a coat of
paint on her, and got out just before daylight. That was
still before anybody even realized she was stolen.
And you re still determined to deliver the guns?
Of course.
How long do you think it ll take?
Less than two weeks. After we get loose here, I mean.
What do you think, Herman?
It would depend on the weather, Ingram said. And to
a great extent on whether you ever got there at all.
You ve got a negative attitude, pal. Learn to look on
the bright side.
Rae Osborne shrugged, and drained her glass. Well,
I d have given odds I d never be in the gun-running
business, but I guess you never know. I think we ought to
have another one.
Sure. Morrison grinned. I ll go with you. I could use
one too.
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