40
Naughty Boy
It was a short swim to the Naughty Boy luxury yacht, anchored a couple of miles from the crystal-clear waters of the Barbados coast, with its lazy white-sand beaches and swaying palm trees. The water was turquoise blue and warm as a bath. We glided silently underwater like a pair of sea ninjas, kitted out in black scuba gear.
We split and swam either site of the hull, where the wavy figures of burly men dressed not so incognito in tropical shirts stood guard.
I fired a dart from beneath the waterline. It hit my guy in the neck. He slapped it like it was a mosquito bite and dropped. I tucked the dart gun in my belt and switch to a grappling gun. It stuck to the boat and I walked up the side and onto the deck, all the recent core work paying off. I removed my breathing gea
