C3 Chapter Three

“Come on! Pull!” Riley yelled from his seat on the flybridge of the Hatteras 50 fishing yacht they rented in Islamorada. Duncan was in the aft cockpit below him, desperately trying to reel in his fifth marlin of the day, while at the same time ignoring the good-natured insults coming from his left where Patrick Flynn was seated, a beer in each hand and a grin on his face