Greedy bastards
Waves sloshed rhythmically on the sandy shore. Sun was high in the sky, forcing Tristan to squint at things to not be blinded by it. Slight breeze rustled grass and bushes growing around.
The light jacket Tristan wore over his T-shirt was a poor choice of clothing for the weather, but he could hide his gun in the inner pocket of it.
There was a cavern in the steep slope of the shore, small enough to see all of it from the outside, but big enough to fit several people and a boat. It was currently empty.
Not a sign of another person, and not a touch of anyone's gaze on Tristan's skin. He frowned.
'If the smugglers decide to not show up, it will be very troublesome…'
He had a backup plan, but it didn't stop him from worrying. But he forced those feelings aside.
"They aren't here yet, but the time of meeting wasn't very specific," Tristan declared to his group. "We will wait until dark, but not here—somewhere more out of sight."