Diamondhead
“At precisely 10:15, sitting against a rock above the ebbing tide of the Kennebec estuary, he suddenly snapped his cell phone shut and told a half-dozen busy sandpipers he simply could not manage this. Harry Remson would have to find someone else. Because he, Lt. Cdr. Mackenzie Bedford, could not deliberately place himself among the criminal classes. Particularly among this shady group of “murder for hire” brigands, lurking in the back streets of Marseille. It was entirely too much to ask of him.... Making a phone call to arrange the imminent assassination of the next president of France sounded pretty bad. About ten-years-in-the-slammer bad. Mack stood up and put the phone in his pocket and began to retrace his steps up the beach path. And then he thought again about the issues that were at stake, and about his old friend Harry. The Remson boss did not have to do this. He was an extremely wealthy man, and he could have just accepted the fate of the shipyard and let it go. It would hardly affect his life. In fact, Harry’s life would be a whole lot better without the shipyard.MoreLess
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