The cuddy’s driver was dead. His frozen eyes and the pool of blood beneath him showed his end. Oliver grabbed the steering wheel and held it steady.
“Rob, I don’t see where I’m going,” he called his god-father.
Robert got the lanchero’s torso off of his legs, and everyone helped him balance into the cuddy. He pulled Oliver’s shoulder closer to the wet floor. “Get down, son. You’re too exposed. Get me the GPS.”
To Oliver’s right, there was a rectangular tablet with blinking points on a map. He grabbed the device and passed it to the experienced navigator.
“s**t, we’re going sideways.” Robert took control of the wheel.
“What do I do?” asked Oliver.
“Protect our girls, my boy.”
Oliver wished he could have helped more, but his god-father was an avid boat-ride
