It was a beautiful day in the Antilles, but then every day was beautiful in the Antilles. James watched as another of his twin-engine pa31 Navajos took off on an island-hopping route, its passengers mostly rich American tourists. It had been almost a year since he and Margaret had landed in Nassau. He had taken his winnings and opened an account in a British bank in Jamaica. He then sent Don Harrison a number for that account and a month later another seventy-three thousand was wired to him along with a copy of the sale of the house. He had bought three twin engine pa-31 Navajos and had opened a small airlines that ferried tourist and locals to most of the islands in the greater and lesser Antilles. He and Margaret had bought a modest but nice home overlooking Jamaica bay. Jasper, then ten months out of quarantine, seemed to love his new home as he ran up and down the white beaches in front of the house exploring daily. Margaret had accumulated a deep tan since their arrival and was more beautiful than ever. She was also feeling more at home; after all she was originally a British subject.

Tanner had bought land were they lived, and built a small one mile runway and terminal office that he and Margaret operated. His only employee, besides his pilots, was a local mechanic who kept the planes running smoothly. They had also changed last names upon arrival in the Bahamas. Now known as Mr. and Mrs. James Cole, it hadn't taken much money to buy passports on the black market to prove it. It was just all too good to be true.

It was early in the morning and Margaret manned the phones while he plotted a new route he planned to open in the Dominican Republic. Over the past year sometimes at night before going to sleep he mused over his big adventure in life. He had been lucky...very lucky. He had one very tight squeeze but all in all it had gone off pretty well. His conscience tended to bother him only slightly as he knew that Caesar's Palace would recover at the expense of the gamblers who flocked there all year around. It was more than likely a write off for the casino as he had not heard nor read anything about the money for more than a year. "Shrinkage" as some businesses called it.

A horn honked. He looked out his airport office window to see white teeth shining on a black face as his friend and police chief of Montego Bay, Oliver Layton, stepped out of his jeep. He and James had met in one of the wharf coffee shops some months ago and had become fast friends. They had spent hours talking about everything from politics to Castro. James had even ferried a few prisoners back and forth for him. Oliver was a good friend. The only one he had made in the last thirty years since Vietnam.

"Good morning mon!" Oliver smiled.

"Morning chief."

Oliver had never asked him about his past but rather had accepted the story that James was a retired businessman from the states, which in effect he was.

"I have the information on that sailing sloop we talked about. It is not cheap."

"Well, we didn't anticipate it would be." James replied. "Cup of coffee?"

"No thanks. Hurricane blowing in ya know...I have to drive over to the windward side and check out some boats at anchor. Exciting police work no?"

"Yes, exciting indeed!" James said with a wink. Oliver dropped the boat information on the desk and stepped out the door.

"See you this weekend?"

"You bet, chief...see you Saturday, we'll discuss it then." As Oliver's jeep jump to life, the phone rang. Margaret answered. "Island Airways."

"Is James Tanner there?" Margaret almost dropped the phone. No one in this part of the world knew them by their real names. Tanner's heart sank. He had harbored fears of a phone call just like this one. He didn't know who would make it for sure, but he had a feeling for the last year that someone would. He took the phone from Margaret.

"Who is this?" he asked.

"Its me honey, Gloria. You couldn't have forgotten me this quick."

"Where are you?"

"In the islands James, living on credit cards, and I am almost maxed out."

James breathed a sigh of resignation. "How did you find me?"

"Remember the phone call at the convenience store? Well, I overheard your little conversation about the Jamaica; I knew that whatever you were doing, it would be connected to airplanes. The rest was easy."

"What do you want, Gloria?"

"I want money, James... I ran into a little gambling problem back in Vegas after we split up. They hold markers on me for $50,000. That's exactly $50,000 that I don't have. I have until the end of the month before they call in the markers, James. If I go down then you go down too. I want $200,000 and I don't give a shit where you get it...sell one of your precious airplanes. I'll call your house tomorrow night with instructions. I do mean business, James.... I don't have a thing to lose...don't fuck with me, understand?" The line went dead. James stared out at the azure water and white sand along the shoreline.

"James...who was that?" Margaret asked.

"It was Gloria...you know the woman I told you about in Vegas. Let's go home. We have problems." On the drive home, he told her about the inadvertent and brief interlude with Gloria.

"I suspected something like that, but was afraid to ask." She said glumly.

"It was nothing Margaret...nothing but a stupid weak moment of physical weakness.... and I know that sorry isn't good enough." She grew silent for the rest of the trip home, then retreated to the bedroom and locked the door. He slept on the couch that night and the next day he spent by the phone. By that evening things were not ok but Margaret was still there and he felt somewhat better. It wasn't long before the phone rang. He answered. "Yes?"

"James, its Gloria”. Her voice sounded strained and desperate not as assured as the night before. "Bring $200,000 in small bills to the Holiday Inn on the South coast tomorrow night, Check into room 223. Reservations have already been made under the name James Cole. I will be there by 9:00 sharp. After I get the money you will never hear from me again...that is a promise, and you're just going to have to accept it. I know you probably couldn't raise that kind of money again anyway. James...don't bring anyone with you or I will phone Vegas and let them know where you are. I know they would be interested in where their money has been for the last year. Besides, I am sure your little wife would be interested in hearing the erotic details of your Vegas trip."

"Ok Gloria, you have made your point." He was beginning to get angry, but the other end of the line was now a dial tone.

The next day James withdrew $200,000 from his Bahamian bank account, which cleaned out both the savings and checking accounts. He bought a Halliburton all metal brief case, and when he got back to the house stacked the money inside. The rest of the day he spent with Jasper on the beach thinking about his future and the fires left to put out. If it weren't for Margaret, he would tell Gloria to get lost and take his chances. But the one thing he could never live with was something happening to her, especially if it were his fault.

"James.." Margaret had walked up behind him. Her eyes were red from crying.

"Margaret...I am so sorry. Please find it in your heart to forgive me...I will never let you down again."

"Forget me. What about you? Are you meeting her tonight?"

"I have to." He looked down at the sand. "She won't go away if I don't. I suppose this is the karma or punishment or whatever for stealing. But I was slowly dying in the job I had, Margaret. I wasn't born to sit at a desk. I guess I have screwed things up pretty badly."

"You’re not going to meet her without this." She suddenly blurted out and held out the nine millimeter Beretta that his friend Oliver had given him six months ago, insisting that he carry with him when he took receipts from the airline to the bank a twice a week. He had never even looked at it before, much less fired it.

"Margaret, you know that is not my style."

"I don't care, dammit...James I don't want you to get hurt...I don't want to lose you!" She was sobbing hard now. He gently took the gun from her hands and held her for the longest time. Then he pushed her back so that he could look at her face.

"Look at me Margaret." His voice was determined. "I have never had the slightest feelings for Gloria and I am going to take care of this. All of it and I will be ok. I am going to make it right." His eyes grew moist. " I love you Margaret, more than life itself." He kissed her softly on the lips and she returned the kiss. Then they turned and walked back towards the house arms around each other’s waists.

As they went inside the house, James noticed the black clouds moving in from the east. They matched his mood, he decided. He looked at the clock; it was nearing time to go. He was anxious to get this over with...whatever it took to keep Margaret out of harm's way. She walked him out on to the verandah. The wind from the hurricane was already beginning to blow the tips of the palm trees over in a westerly direction and distant lightening threatened on the eastern horizon. He kissed her hard on the mouth and held her for a moment as if renewing his love for her and then climbed into the land rover and pointed it in the direction of Montego Bay some 20 miles away.

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