The Harbor Ambush

The mainland fishing harbor of Rossaveel was a rugged labyrinth of grey granite piers, lobster pots, and diesel trawlers moored against the falling tide. As the launch had touched the wooden pilings, five local dockworkers in heavy oilskin overalls had stepped forward, not with suspicion, but with the quiet, unhesitating deference of men welcoming their blood kin. The dockmaster—a weather-beaten Connemara man named Padraig who had known Liam since he…