The Kidnapping of Paul McCartney
By Richard Dorrance
Copyright 2013 Richard Dorrance
This book was written at
the Charleston Library Society
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It was almost midnight, and Little Jinny Blistov hug over the railing of the sixty foot luxury sailboat puking his guts out. He’d gotten sick back in the cockpit, where the others were sitting, but they had hit him with towels and tote bags, driving him forward towards the bow. Little Jinny was one of the toughest small time Russian gangsters you’ll ever want to meet, so they didn’t know why he was the only one getting sick on what were only slightly rough seas, but they decided to take advantage of it and give him all the shit they could dish out.
There were six others in the cockpit, all but one of whom had been involved a couple of years earlier, along with Little Jinny, in stealing a load of second class artifacts from warehouses of the Hermitage Museum, in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Just a few days earlier this team had ended production of a world class ballet, which had occupied them for much of the last year. And yesterday morning they had left the port of Charleston for a long awaited trip over to St. Barths, and a much needed vacation. This was the first time the crew of new sailors had taken the boat this far out into the Atlantic and headed for a foreign port. Before this they had ranged up and down the coast off of Charleston, learning to sail and handle the big boat, and had come to view themselves as advanced beginners with a modicum of sea toughness. They all thought that with this time on the water they would be immune to seasickness, and here was their toughest member, hanging over the side, feeding the fish.