Eva was petite, only a couple of inches over five feet tall. Maybe a hundred pounds and nicely put together. She wore her black hair in a no-nonsense ...onytail. Latina, with smooth, copper colored skin and a dazzling white smile. But she wasn’t smiling much this afternoon.White designer jeans, tight and tucked into black, calf-length, high heeled boots. Blue, short-sleeved top, no logos, no words. No ‘I Suck Cocks.’Eva accepted a cup of espresso, Rebecca declined. Rebecca said, “We came in. A slow behemoth, of strong oak. Lumber that had been dragged to the water’s edge and built with sweat and hands. Sealed tight by rope and pitch. It was audacious, and showed little respect for an enemy-ship, to sight its sails. Now under sail of the winds, from Tortuga to Spain laden with goods to sell and barter. A voyage of several weeks. Tortuga, a port of call for pirates, swashbucklers, heathens and prostitutes. It was a safe-haven for those willing to pay the gold, in exchange for not. More

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