Hatched

Chapter Twenty-One

July 1st, 2021

0900 hours

A man stood on the beach, away from the bustle of the swimmers. The waves were perfect for surfing, a scarce occurrence which, luckily, brought throngs of avid beach bums to the surf. It provided a boisterous cover, and hopefully he would go unnoticed as he waited for his contact. Children ran by in groups, their kites fluttering high above the shore like giant, multicolored butterflies. Poles were set up in sand spikes everywhere, the fishermen lined up like pillars. Tents and umbrellas dotted the landscape, sheltering families from the rays.

More people were pouring in, eager to start the weekend festivities. With the fourth of July approaching, the shore was swiftly becoming packed with islanders. Because they lived in such proximity, they usually arrived before the tourists. This year it seemed they were flooding in at once: the natives were easily spotted by their incredulous tans, while the visitors were usually paler. Not to mention, they packed all the wrong things. Now, there was an equal amount of dark and light skin, and parties that would last for days were already in full swing.

Barbeque pits and coolers dotted the landscape like multicolored candies. The smell of grilling meat wafted over the breeze, bringing with it hordes of gulls. Their raucous squawking blended with the noise of the swimmers, resulting in a loud, zealous cacophony.

The man looked out of place as he blinked in the brightness of the sun. Liberal amounts of sunscreen were slathered on his ghostly, sagging skin, and a floppy, dirtied hat perched on his thinning, stringy hair. His faded swim shorts looked to be decades old. He shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting nervously as he scanned over the beach goers.

He suddenly tensed as he felt somebody walk up and stop next to him. Rather than draw attention to the fact he intended to speak to the individual, he cast a sideways glance and gave a brief nod of his head. Then he continued to stare ahead, as if observing the people at play.

"You're late." He stammered, hands twitching nervously.

"You could have chosen a less conspicuous place." A male voice answered reproachfully, with a hint of edginess. Unlike his counterpart, he looked comfortable, like he belonged in the current era. He wore sunglasses and more modern trunks, and his tanned skin starkly contrasting the pudgier man beside him. "Want one?" He held out a half-eaten bag of chips and offered them to the pale man.

"Fool. They told me you were smart." The awkward man hissed, shaking his head. "We won't be overheard here." The howl of the wind and the joyous chatter drowned out their hushed conversation.

"What is it that you want? I didn't come here to get insulted." The young man said coldly, lowering the chips. "I've got to get back to the office."

"I have a proposition you may be interested in." He looked almost like a rodent, slightly hunched and twitching, especially with his eyes whipping around nervously.

"And what is that? You weren't forthcoming on the phone." The chip bag crumpled and drew the attention of a wanton gull, the scavenging bird diverting its path to hover above the men.

"I couldn't talk. I suspect my phones have been tapped. You should know that."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I don't want to get involved if you're being investigated." The younger man waved a hand dismissively and turned to walk away. A pallid hand shot out and gripped his wrist tightly, pulling him back slightly.

"My client has a proposition for you."

"Why me?" The youth said slowly, eyes narrowed behind the dark, tinted glasses. He eyed the man's pale fingers as they continued their hold on his arm, agitation crossing his features.

"You're on the task force investigating the oil rig murder, correct?" The pale man whispered nervously.

"Yea, and that means what to you?"

"So, you can be of great use to us." The mousy man angled his body away again, trying to look nonchalant.

"How so? What would you need from me?" The boy's voice rose over the increasingly noisy cry of the gull overhead.

"Information." He was struggling to keep his hat on his head: the wind was picking up, most likely blowing in an afternoon rain shower.

"What kind?"

"If you accept our offer, we would need full reports on the movements of the investigators, the police, and what they are panning as a course of action."

The other man crossed his arms, a brow cocking dubiously over his dark eyes. "You want me to snitch? It would cost me my job, if someone found out."

"This is between my client and us. Nobody else would know."

The two stood watching the children playing; a small child some ways off was poking a stick into a crab hole, trying to entice the crustacean to emerge. The tension between the two men was palpable, the pale one trembling with nerves, the other expressionless and still.

"Persuade me." The younger one grinned eagerly, flipping his sunglasses down to stare imposingly at the older man.

The rat-like man pocketed his hand and pulled out a large wad of bills. "This is the starting offer. You'll receive more with every report."

The younger man's eyes widened in surprise: the bills were Benjamin's.

"How much is it?"

"A grand, and that's just the start."

The contact swallowed visibly. He weighed his options: if he accepted the offer, he would be rolling in money. Pay wasn't great in the police department, so money was something he sorely needed. But there was always the chance that he would be found out and labeled as corrupt, like so many of the cops before him. He could lose his job, but most of the ones who'd taken bribes hadn't. However, none of them were working on a case headed by an FBI agent at the time of their indiscretions. He had a lot more to lose.

After some time, he made up his mind.

"We have a deal."

"Good. I'll make the arrangements right away. I'll have to set up a secure form of communication for you."

The younger man slipped a piece of paper into the other's clammy hand. "This is the number to my disposable phone."

"You came prepared."

"Just in case I accepted your offer, I wanted to be sure this was under the radar from the start."

"Good thinking."

The wind picked up and lifted the floppy hat from his head. He fumbled clumsily for it as it flipped over along the sand. "I do need a bit of information before you go." He stammered as the other turned to leave.

"What's that?"

"Anything you can tell me. We are in the dark."

"Well," the informant started slowly, "they brought on a marine biologist."

The pale man dropped his hat again. "They did?" His voice squeaked higher.

"Yeah. Why would they need one of those?" The youth frowned behind his glasses.

"Don't concern yourself with it. Just get us the information." The pale man's nervousness reached its peak, and his dominant tone elicited another frown from his confidant.

"Who is your client?" He said roughly, crossing his arms in agitation.

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"I can figure it out."

"I'm sure." The pale man turned to leave. "Wait a few moments after I depart, then get back to your job. Do not tell anyone we spoke."

The other man snorted in disbelief. "You want me to hang myself with this? I won't make a peep."

"For your sake, I hope not."

The cop frowned; eyebrows pulled in as he watched the man leave. "Hey wait! What's your name?"

But he was already alone, completely surrounded by strangers on an overcrowded beach.