Just a few minutes later, Jackson started the engine and backed away from the beach slowly. He moved away from the island about 100 yards and then spun the wheel around to head directly for the other men and the boats.

To make his story more believable, Jackson shut down and raised his port engine and pulled back on the other throttle. He pretended to limp toward the island. His two passengers took this opportunity to go over the side and put Jackson's plan into action.

As soon as Jackson got within earshot, he started calling out to the men on the beach. He knew better than to surprise them.

"Hello on the beach, hello," Jackson yelled out. "I've got some bad gas and my radio's not working. Can you lend me a hand?"

The two pilots from the crashed plane, Roy Barnes and Al Reynolds, stepped out of the shade of the few trees on the
island. They began waving their arms and shouting angrily, trying to warn Jackson away. Feigning difficulty with his boat, Jackson ignored them. A third man was on board the smaller of the two boats anchored in the cove. With a deft move, Jackson tossed out an anchor line behind the boat and nosed his bow up against the beach, about 20 feet away. Jackson came to a stop and jumped over the side without acknowledging the men.

"Boy, sure am glad I found you guys," Jackson said as he quickly tried figure out what he was dealing with. "That left motor quit running. With my radio out, I would've been in a heck of a fix if I hadn't seen you guys out here. Name's Jackson, by the way," he said with his hand out. It was completely ignored.

"Mister, you can just get right back on that boat and slide right on out of here. You're not welcome here," the third man said as he jumped down off of his boat and joined the other two on the beach. He was Tony Case, the smuggler's local contact and the one who had set up the double cross, encouraging the pilots to make a big score.

"Yeah, we told you to go away. Now go," Reynolds said. "We don't want visitors out here and you're just in the way."

"Hey guys, I didn't know this was a private island or anything. They show up on my charts as little sand bars. But still, you can't just turn away a guy in distress. Come on. Lend me a hand and I'll be on my way. At least let me call the authorities so they'll be on the lookout for me. I don't want to get halfway across the channel and get stuck without anyone looking for me," Jackson continued to argue, trying to stall for time.

As the three men continued arguing with Jackson, a fourth boat rounded the end of the island and pulled into the small cove. All four of the men on the beach turned and watched the newest arrival. Jackson was curious to see what was going on - the other three suddenly got nervous.

The boat was a 31 foot Grady-White cabin cruiser with two more men on board. The men quickly dropped two anchors in the water - one on the beach and one off the stern - and jumped into the water. They quickly walked up the beach and toward the men. Both of the new arrivals were armed with Mac 10s and were carrying them in a shooting position. They were taking no chances.

As the two men approached, Jackson realized he knew one of the two - it was Randy Littlebear, his dive buddy from the previous day. Jackson simply stared. Littlebear gave no sign that he recognized Jackson. Both of the men from the new boat were Native American.

So which one of you is Case?" one of the two arrivals said. "I'm Framer. Let's get this over with."

"I'm Case," the man said. "But, hold on, this guy isn't with us, he just showed up here and I don't know what's going on. We're not going to do anything until he goes away."

"Hey, wait a minute. I was just looking for some help. I don't know what this is all about, but I'll just get out of here and leave you guys alone. Sorry to interrupt," Jackson said with a stammer, trying to back away.

Littlebear moved around behind Jackson and grabbed him, pinning his arms back. "You're not going anywhere, friend,"
Littlebear said to Jackson. "I know this one. He's a local. Just a dive bum on the island. He's nothing to worry about," he said to the other men.

"I don't care who he is. He's seen all of our faces, and I don't want him talking to the cops," Case said. "If you guys want what we have, then you can take him with you when you leave and drop him in the channel. We'll set his boat adrift."

Before Jackson, or Littlebear and Framer could respond, a fifth boat came circling around the island and entered the cove. The sun was setting and had just touched the horizon as the boat approached the beach. Watching the boat, Jackson thought he saw some movement below the water moving in the direction of the latest arrival, but he couldn't be sure.

"Who in the hell is this?" Case asked, incredulous at the growing crowd. "I thought you guys said this island was deserted and no one came out here."

The newly arriving boat caught everyone by surprise. It moved in slowly and shined a light in the eyes of the men standing on the beach.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant little reunion," a Latin sounding voice called from the mystery boat. "I thought you men were dead, but now I see you standing on a beach, miles away from where you crashed my plane. And meeting with strangers. Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what's happening here? You two with your guns out, drop them on the beach. My men are a little nervous and have itchy trigger fingers."

"Oh, no," Reynolds groaned. "It's Carlos. How did he find us?"

"What's going on here? Who is this guy?" Framer asked as he dropped his gun on the sand and moved slightly to the side, away from the men. Littlebear maintained his iron grip on Jackson, but steered him away from the original three men on the beach as well.

"Don't move too far away, my friends. I assume you're the buyers for my goods. You must be Mr. Framer. You and I originally had a deal, and then these men double-crossed me and stole my merchandise. They destroyed my plane, but not before they took all of my belongings from it," Carlos said as he jumped down from the boat and began walking slowly across the beach. His men were closely arrayed around him - there were five of them from the new boat. They were all heavily armed with automatic weapons.

"It's not true, Carlos. That's not the way it happened at all. We had nothing to do with this," Barnes shouted, getting very nervous. He tried to tell the entire story in one breath. "Case put us up to it. He made us drop off the cargo at a small island about an hour away and he brought it all up here on his boat. He showed us where to crash the plane so it wouldn't get discovered. He set it all up with Juan, but Juan never made it off the plane."

"Listen, Carlos, this is all a misunderstanding," Case began to grovel, but Carlos silenced him quickly.

"Quiet," he barked. "I don't want to hear your stories. I'll deal with you shortly."

Then he turned and looked at the two Seminoles. "Mr. Framer, I assume you brought the money for my merchandise. Is it the number we originally agreed to?"

"More. These men didn't tell me they had your goods. They just said they knew I was in the market and needed material to replace what had crashed. They said they could fill my need immediately, but that it was going to cost me."

"So, you men rip me off, and then raise the price to my buyer? On top of that, you kill my cousin and try to blame him for ripping me off? I've got to hand it to you, that takes cajones," Carlos said with a laugh looking back at Case and the two pilots. "Maybe that is the first thing that should get shot. Too bad, you won't be able to enjoy the money."

Littlebear moved Jackson closer to the water's edge while everyone else was talking and Jackson felt the grip on his arms relax.

"What are you doing here?" Littlebear whispered in Jackson's ear.

"Just trying to figure out what's going on," Jackson replied, trying to be as quiet as he could, although none of the other men on the beach were paying any attention to them. "What about you?"

"Me, too, but it's my job to be here. You're just interfering," Littlebear said. "So you're not involved with these men at all?"

"No, I just wanted to investigate the other location I saw marked on that chart. I got suspicious when I heard there wasn't any dope on the plane. It didn't all add up. What do you mean, it's your job?"

"I'm a cop from the reservation and I'm undercover. I'm trying to break up a drug ring," Littlebear answered.

"Framer is a cop, too?" Jackson whispered.

"No, he is my mark."

"Listen to me really carefully. We don't have much time. If you think this place is crowded now, it's only gonna get worse. I called the cops and I can hear the helicopter on the way out now," Jackson said. When Littlebear listened, he could just hear the sounds of the helicopter moving toward the island.

"When the helicopter gets loud enough that one of these guys notices, we need to make a break for it. Hit the water and swim for my boat."

"So, you barge in here unexpected and now you want to run for it?" Littlebear asked.

"Just trust me on this one. I got it covered."

The men on the beach had continued to argue amongst themselves while Jackson and Littlebear had talked. The men who had double-crossed their employer were trying to save their lives. Carlos and his men were trying to quiet the double-crossers down, while arguing with Framer about how much he should pay for the shipment.

It was Reynolds, the DC-3 co-pilot, who first noticed the sound of the helicopter. As soon as he said something about it, Carlos reacted.

"It's the cops," Carlos yelled. "Kill them all."

The Latino men began shooting wildly, without hitting anything, as they attempted to run for their boat and get away from the island. Framer ducked and then turned to look for Littlebear, only to realize the man he thought was his partner had just jumped into the water with Jackson. He didn't waste another moment and ran for his own boat. The two pilots and Case, were the slowest to respond after dropping to the sand when the shooting started.

Jackson's boat was the first to roar to life, before he and Littlebear even got on board. The Daydreamer was floating free. As soon as Jackson and Littlebear grabbed rubber fenders that were hanging over the side, the boat turned around, almost within its own space - shielding the two men in the water from any shooting -- and began moving away from the island. Hands reached over the sides of the boat and pulled Jackson and Littlebear on board. Hoss and Miguel were on board, wearing diveskins, with grins on their faces.

"Howdy boys. Did you get it all done?" Jackson asked with a laugh and a grin.

"That last one caught us by surprise, but no problems," Hoss said with a laugh, as he pointed to the stern of the boat and showed Jackson the eight gleaming propellers they had removed from the other boats.

The drug runners - smugglers, suppliers and buyers - had all made it to their respective boats and pulled up their anchors, only to realize that they couldn't go anywhere. They kept steering back and forth and gunning their engines, but to no avail. The four boats in the small cove began to float into each other as the men struggled to get their boats to respond. The yelling and screaming started only to be covered up by the sound of the helicopter and the arriving police boats. It was all over before anyone went 10 yards.

Hoss was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. Miguel was a little quieter, but was grinning from ear to ear at what they had accomplished.

"Are you telling me, these two stole all the props from those boats?" Littlebear asked Jackson.

"Yeah, we all came out to investigate. You didn't think I would try this alone did you? I knew the buyers - you two - were coming and so I wanted to stall everyone while these guys made it so no one was going to escape. When they were done with their work, they gave me a signal that it was time to leave. But, by that time, you had grabbed me and then Carlos and his boys showed up, so they had to get back in the water."

"You guys are nuts."

"We've got a quiet little island here. I don't want anyone to mess that up."

The End

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