Tristan's men knew Spanish well enough to understand the problem. He also knew that even if they didn't understand, they'd start fighting as soon as he gave the smallest command.
He looked over at the smugglers and their boat again.
With their automatic rifles, just two smugglers could gun down Tristan and his four people in seconds. He'd need about two seconds to kill them both with only one gun.
The smugglers' boat was beached far enough to take longer than that to be pushed into the sea.
All four smugglers were watching Tristan's team closely, although only riflemen were aimed.
Tristan let out a breath. Now he was playing a role—a role of someone proud, but smart enough to know he was cornered.
<Alright. How about twice what I promised?>
<I thought you understood Spanish, hm? We told to give ALL OF IT!>
Tristan winced.