The waterfront was nearly hidden by thick morning fog. The fog warning bell and gun were sounding, warning ships to steer clear of Alcatraz Island. The sun, now a dull red ball, would soon burn away the gray morning haze. The buildings, piers, and docked ships, all looked mystical in the fog.
Voices floated through the gray overcast, as men made ready to set sail. A scruffy, one-eyed tabby sat at the entrance of an alley; his eye fixed on the harbor, one ear c****d back. Without looking back, the cat stood and quickly disappeared into the fog. Someone was in the alley.
Four men entered the fog-shrouded alley and started for the entrance to the trading company. They worked for Lundy. “Bloody hell, the fog"s thick this morning,” said one.
“Aye, won"t be long, she"ll burn off,” said anothe
