America 1982-Chapter 37: Canada!
"No, of course not. Strictly speaking, on the evening of Mr. Thomas’s death, we were getting ready to do business according to the plan Dad laid out, buying cigarettes from the processing ship and then transporting them back to Warwick, where Mr. Wilson’s truck would be waiting at the dock to load up and then drive the cigarettes to New York. He has a relative who owns a grocery store in New York and wanted to try to offload them..."
"This is your fucking plan?" Tommy Hawk’s eyes widened as he blurted out, "Even a team of blind cops could crack the case!"
Tony nodded, "It was indeed. I know, it was somewhat rushed, but remember, you showed up and told me about your plan. I was supposed to go out to sea with Dad that night, but when I learned that you were also secretly planning this sort of operation and needed my help, of course, I had to tell Dad. After all, I can’t be in two places at once, and Dad, upon hearing it, immediately decided to call off that night’s sailing because he thought your idea was better. He then called a meeting and railed against his partners for not thinking of selling in Canada where the prices are higher."
"Partners? How many?" Tommy Hawk had initially breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing Dad had suspended the smuggling operation, but his expression froze again, and his gaze turned vacant.
"Yes, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Green, Mr. Morin, Mr. Thomas, and Ashley’s father, Mr. Hurl... and Mr. Waldman, the skipper. He didn’t want to be paid but decided to put in money and join the business," Tony smacked his lips, listing several names familiar to Tommy Hawk, all of them his dad’s unemployed buddies, poor blokes who had helped him trash the laundromat.
Tommy said with a desperate look, "I told you, he couldn’t keep a secret... Wait, didn’t Mr. Thomas already blow his dog’s brains out, along with his own, with a shotgun?"
"Ruby said she could get a good price for one of Mr. Thomas’s kidneys or some other organ. Mr. Thomas also wanted to earn one last sum for his wife and kids. He decided to invest with his organs. Speaking of which, Mr. Thomas is actually the major shareholder; Ruby advanced him twenty grand," Tony said, exhaling a plume of smoke towards the sea, sounding somewhat wistful.
"Then what?"
"Then you know the rest, they were also waiting for my news from Portland and Yarmouth. When they found out they could earn more from the Canadian side, of course, they loaded up to come to Canada. But unlike you, who deal in international waters, Dad and the others decided after I introduced them to the Canadian prices, to go deep into the Gulf of Maine, heading straight to Saint John, where the cigarette dealers promised to pay three hundred thirty dollars per case if delivered to a specified dock in Saint John," Tony looked toward Tommy as he spoke.
Tommy agitatedly shook his head, gazing into the dark night around him, "So, Mr. Waldman called me this morning, saying he took off with the K.K.S, leaving me with just this D.T.F, they set sail before my boat, so they’ve already entered Canadian waters by now, and they’re about to reach Saint John?"
"After I failed to convince you, and instead you woke me up to reality, I hung up and immediately tried to contact Dad, but Keen, the bartender at the small bar, told me they had already left. I’ve tried countless times to reach them on the radio here, but there’s been no response. That means they’re not in the vicinity. Either they haven’t arrived yet, or they’re already into the Gulf of Maine. The latter is more likely," Tony sighed but then patted Tommy on the shoulder:
"Maybe things aren’t as bad as you think. Perhaps by tomorrow morning, they’ll be back home with cash in hand, everyone smiling from ear to ear."
"Keep trying to make contact. Let’s hope they’re on their way back with the money by now, and can receive our signal," Tommy said tiredly, lowering his head.
Tony patted his shoulder once more, gravely saying, "Dad will be fine. Mom will protect him, she’ll be looking out for us from heaven too."
With that, Tony walked toward the Italian fishing boat’s cabin, continuing to attempt contact with Dad as Tommy had instructed.
Tommy flicked his cigarette butt into the sea and turned to go back to his own fishing boat to help Melanie with the cigarette shipment. On the left side of the Italian fishing boat, a spotlight suddenly lit up upon the pitch-dark sea, a medium-sized fishing vessel appearing like a stealthily approaching hunter revealing itself. Tommy straightened up and looked toward the nearby boat, as a loudhailer from the other fishing vessel came to life:
"Good evening, your little business is doing fine, this is Augusta calling. Today was a damn disaster, the Yanks have fished out the entire sea. A two-hundred-meter net and not even two tons of catch to show for it. But lucky me, running into you guys. I’ve had my eye on that beat-up boat of yours sitting there for hours. I know what you’re up to. According to the act released by Nova Scotia, all I need to do is open the radio and report your position to the marine enforcement against smuggling. If they catch you, I get a thousand Canadian dollars as a justice reward. After all this talk, you should know what I want. Either cough up two thousand dollars, or wait for those junk boats of yours to have the smuggling squad knock on your asses!"
Melanie and the three Italians were somewhat panicked, and Melanie was the first to pick up the harpoon that had been cast aside earlier. Tommy Hawk let out a breath, "Keep unloading, don’t stop, I’ll talk to him."
Tommy Hawk entered the wheelhouse and turned on his fishing boat’s loudhailer, "Mr. Justice, I hope you understand that this is international waters, Canada has no jurisdiction here."
"I know, but I can ram your asses, hit you till you malfunction, and then tow you into Canadian waters under the guise of rescue. By the size of it, you should be able to tell my Augusta can do just that." The response came from the fishing boat, now with a laugh full of arrogance and gratification, "So, start adjusting your course slowly. One person brings the two thousand, or wait for the smuggling squad to take away both your junk boats along with all of you."
"OK, sir, your little business is really not bad, fantastic even, no problem, two thousand, I’ll pay," Tommy Hawk tried to calm himself before responding.
"Don’t give this asshole a dime! Brother! That’s money we worked hard for!" Tony also turned on his loudhailer from the other boat, shouting angrily.
"Whoa, seems like someone is rather unwilling~~"
"Don’t cause trouble, brother, I’ll pay, let’s end it here, no trouble," Tommy Hawk said calmly.
The loudhailer from the opposing fishing boat said, "Wise choice, you American son of a bitch. You steal Canadian fish, Canadian land, Canadian wealth. I’m just giving you a little punishment to remind you, this is Canada!"
Tommy Hawk sighed, his footsteps weary as he turned around to sort out this emergency, but before he could step out of the wheelhouse, a curse came over the loudhailer:
"Fuck you, Canada!"
But it wasn’t Tony’s voice.
"Who are you!" the other fishing boat, obviously unsettled by the unexpected voice, anxiously asked, "I’m calling the police right now!"
Behind Tommy Hawk’s fishing boat, two bright searchlights suddenly lit up. Rocco Waldman’s beloved Kick Ass appeared from a few dozen meters away, and Colin Hawk’s voice emanated from the loudhailer:
"This is the American son of a bitch, Canada. Bend over, I’m coming to fuck you."
