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Back Blood in the Water
Chapters (82)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. Praise for Blood in the Water
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  82. Newsletter Sign-up

He sighed again. He would never hold back the progress of a world that refused to recognize the importance of tradition. He would, however, do his part to keep some of those traditions alive in a world that seemed determined to desert them.

He’d heard many in the courthouse whisper, often with a tinge of malevolence, that F. Barton Baylor was sure to die with his robe on. They might be right, he secretly conceded. And perhaps that would not be a bad thing. He could imagine many worse ways to die than from a massive coronary or stroke as he presided over the courtroom he loved so much. But he had no intention of allowing that to happen before he saw that the judicial system’s treatment of Vincente Carpio lived up to all that it promised to the world.

Until he made sure that was the case, he believed nothing could kill him.

Javier Carpio looked at the other two men. They were in a small warehouse just off Clipper Ship Drive in East Boston. There was a construction site next to them, where new condos were going up. It seemed as though there was no area of Boston that was immune to the creep of gentrification. Fortunately, though, the site was not active—the impact of the cold snap was still being felt across the city, and it would be days after the thaw before much of the construction began again in earnest. The attack boats had been delivered and were tied to the dock near the warehouse, covered in tarps to avoid attention.

T’phong Soh and Juan Suarez were going over the plan once more. This would be the last time they would see each other before their mission. Soh and Suarez would go from here to meet their men and then set out for the courthouse.

“Call me as soon as my brother arrives outside of the courthouse,” Carpio continued. “Even with the traffic on the water, it should take us no longer than five minutes to cross the harbor, and that should be just enough time.” He looked at Suarez. “You and your men are in charge of the distraction at the front of the courthouse. That will keep the attention of the police focused there. It will also make them overconfident when they are able to turn off Northern Avenue and onto Courthouse Drive.”

Suarez nodded grimly. “The police will be violent in chasing those of us in the front of the courthouse,” he said. “We will lose some of our men.”

Soh frowned. “We will make sure those who carry out the main part of the plan are dependable,” he said. “Even if they have to be sacrificed.”

Suarez said nothing. Soh knew he would carry out his orders, though, no matter how unhappy he was about them. He was a good soldier.