Killian
Killian drove an older and unremarkable car to the south shore.
A man who had a pistol on each side of his belt stopped him. Killian rolled down his windows.
“Who you?”
“An associate to DN.9. Richard Hue.”
“Don’t know you. Scat.”
“Alfonso Trait told me to come.”
His face lightened. “Hey, my man. Told me he would deliver.” He threw his head towards the dock. “Go. They’re waiting for you.”
Killian drove his car through. There were what looked like small fishing boats. Men were gathered around the boats. Most of them were pulling ice boxes out of the boats. He parked his car and walked out tugging on the gloves on his hand.
He walked towards the fishing boats. A man walked towards him.
“Can I help you? These fish aren’t for sale, they are going to the markets. You c
