S
Saint Allison
Guest
Dom had assumed when he'd first met Chelsea that she was just another middle-aged bitch mad at the world for taking away her soap operas, caramel macchiatos, and strip malls. He was glad he wrong. Not only did the skinny red-head prove a skilled sailor, she also had shared a fair deal of fish with them while they'd been camped on the shore, no extra charge.
He caught himself drifting into a sentimental mood he couldn't afford. The crew was weaving slowly through the mangled metal stabbed into the seabed, having to keep a constant eye out for threats hidden just below the surface.
Dom began worrying as soon as he saw what appeared to be three chaps in a lifeboat entering their 50 yard "comfort zone". He hoped Chelsea's two men in back were making enough of a show of reeling and casting to throw the newcomers off the scent if they happened to be from Galveston, but who knew, maybe they were just friendly anglers themselves. Regardless, He had Agnes in his lap away from sight, while he was sitting on the boat's floor, looking over the side. If he had to take a knee and shoot, he would. God knew he and "Nessy" had spilled human blood post-contact, but he didn't want to put an expensive bullet in the brain of someone he didn't have to.
If they could only make it to the backside of the wreck, him and York could scramble inside and get that last piece of treasure they needed...
@Michale CS @Xytheus
He caught himself drifting into a sentimental mood he couldn't afford. The crew was weaving slowly through the mangled metal stabbed into the seabed, having to keep a constant eye out for threats hidden just below the surface.
Dom began worrying as soon as he saw what appeared to be three chaps in a lifeboat entering their 50 yard "comfort zone". He hoped Chelsea's two men in back were making enough of a show of reeling and casting to throw the newcomers off the scent if they happened to be from Galveston, but who knew, maybe they were just friendly anglers themselves. Regardless, He had Agnes in his lap away from sight, while he was sitting on the boat's floor, looking over the side. If he had to take a knee and shoot, he would. God knew he and "Nessy" had spilled human blood post-contact, but he didn't want to put an expensive bullet in the brain of someone he didn't have to.
If they could only make it to the backside of the wreck, him and York could scramble inside and get that last piece of treasure they needed...
@Michale CS @Xytheus