The launch sped towards the giant yacht, it's neon sign flashing. Inside, people laughed and bustled about, talking or reading the menus, or consulting their host. Mr. Lucky, who owned and ran the place, was weaving his way through the sea of tables, greeting people and seeing to their every need. As he made his way to the back, he saw his Latino friend, Andamo, waving him over.

"What is it, Compadre?" he asked, stopping beside him.

"That guy over there," said Andamo, motioning to an older man with thin blonde hair and a goatee. "I don't think he got his supper."

"I'll take a look," said Lucky, hurrying past him to where the man sat. "Good evening," he said to the man, "I'm Mr. Lucky. Can I get you anything? Champagne? Crepe Suzette?"

"You could get me my money back." grunted the man.

Lucky's thick eyebrows knit. "What?"

The man looked up at him. "My money," he pressed, "I owed you a bet of fifty thousand dollars. Well, I'm calling it off."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," said Lucky, "You know what you don't have when you gamble—a refund."

"Yes, well, I'm in a crisis, and I have to call it off," said the man.

"Look here Clement," Lucky's voice dropped, "If you're in trouble, you should never have made that bet."

"I wasn't at first," replied Clement, "It happened rather suddenly a short time ago. I can barely keep up with my taxes, and I may have to sell my house or file for bankruptcy, and I can't do that."

"There are other things you can do," said Lucky, "But I can't refund it. That was a long time ago. I'm sorry. I can give you a job here if you need money that badly."

Clement stood up. "I won't tolerate this, Lucky. This is highway robbery!"

"You shouldn't have bet so much money!" Lucky yelled in a whisper, "Now, if you want help, I'll talk to the attorneys, give you a job here, anything but refunding."

Clement's face turned radish red. "I won't tolerate this, Lucky! I'll see to it that you are arrested, if not sued first!"

Lucky pointed to the exit. "Get off! I won't have that kind of behavior on my boat! I'll call the launch to take you to shore. If you hesitate, you'll swim ashore. And if you come back on here again, I'll have the police on you so fast you won't be able to blink an eye before you see bars in front of your eyes! Now go!"

Clement started towards the exit. Then he stopped and turned. "I warned you Lucky! I told you to refund my money! If you don't, I'll have you and your boat blown up, but not before you see the corpse of your friend shot, stabbed, whipped, and torn, floating in the water, being eaten by fish, and pulled under by bloodthirsty sharks!"

Lucky bit his lip to prevent the loads of swearing he wanted to spew. "Get off. Now!"

Clement shrugged. "I warned you." With that, he left.

For a time Lucky just stood there, watching the launch depart. He bit down angrily on the cigarette he'd just lit, glaring at the man, while on the other side, Andamo came over to see what was troubling his friend. "'Sup Compadre?"

"That guy there, Clement," said Lucky, "He wants his fifty million back."

"Didn't you tell him we don't do refunds?" asked Andamo.

"Yes, but he didn't listen." said Lucky.

"What do you think we should do then?" asked Andamo.

Lucky sucked in his breath. "I think," he said slowly, "We should go and talk to Rovacs."

"But he almost never helps." Andamo pointed out.

"We don't have much of a choice," said Lucky as he headed to his cabin, dodging the departing people. "When someone gives you a death threat, you take action."

…...

Forty excruciating minutes later, the launch had reached shore and Lucky's car was now in the parking lot of the police headquarters. Inside, Lucky argued over the matter with Lt. Rovacs.

"Look, Lucky," said Rovacs as he lit his cigarette, "I can't do anything about it, even if I wanted to. Your boat's past the line."

"Rovacs, I told you, Benito L. Clement wants the fifty thousand dollars he owed me back, and if I don't, he's going to kill Andamo and blow me and my boat up!"

"Look, I'm sure he was just bluffing." said Rovacs, "he has no issues. He's rich, and a little loss of fifty thousand isn't going to bug him."

"Oh?" asked Lucky.

"Yeah. Well, his gambling debts have reached one million dollars, so he's gotta keep up with his taxes, but otherwise he's fine. He can do without it."

"All right, but can't you just send some squad cars after him or something?" demanded Lucky, who was growing angrier by the moment.

"Now look, Lucky, I can't just barge into his house and announce an arrest until we have proof," said Rovacs, "got any?"

"Not yet, but I will soon." said Lucky, "In the meantime, can you at least keep him confined here on land?"

"Well, there isn't much I can do there," said Rovacs, "But I can try to keep him from escaping the country."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said Lucky, "I think we'll be leaving."

"Good evening gentlemen," the lieutenant called after him.

Lucky muttered a reply and left, Andamo right beside him. "Boy, he's sure a stuffy one, that Rovacs."

Lucky shook his head. "Still the same, impossible Lt. Tom Rovacs all right."

"Si. But, Lucky, uh, why would he threaten me? I mean, I haven't gotten anything he'd want."

"He's threatening you because you're my friend," Lucky said, "I've got to find a way to stop him. But, in the meantime, I've got to keep you and the boat safe."

"Ah, how?" Andamo asked.

"Right now, I'm going back to the Fortuna," said Lucky, "I want to be there in case Clement or some crackpot decides to come aboard."

Andamo shrugged. "All right. Think you can keep 'em off?"

"You've got a bet."

…...

As soon as Lucky and Andamo where back, they made searched even the smallest hiding places, in case a bomb or thug was hiding. After that, they locked up. "Andamo, until we figure this out some more, I think we'd better stay here. I want you to head to your cabin and lock yourself in. Call me if you need anything."

"All right," said Andamo as he hurried off, "G'night Compadre."

"Good night, Andamo," called Lucky. As soon as he was gone, he muttered, "Not."

Andamo hurried to his cabin and locked the door shut. He let out a sigh. Although he would not admit it, he was scared. He had been threatened before, but this particular threat frightened him. He wanted to live, of course.

Shaking off the scary thoughts, Andamo made his way to the bed and plopped down with some cards and, unable to sleep, entertained himself playing solitaire.

About an hour and a half later, Andamo began to feel thirsty. Wish I had brought some champagne with me.

He tried to ignore it, but he was beginning to get very uncomfortable. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he got up and decided to grab some from the wine cellar, and then make his way back.

He creaked the door open and scouted the area. It was very dark, and Andamo didn't want to attract anyone with the lights on. So he crept his way through the dark, trying to remain as quiet as possible. He finally found the wine cellar. But as he was browsing for some old fashioned wine, he thought he heard footsteps. But they weren't Lucky's heavy thumps. They were lighter, like a young man's. This made Andamo nervous. Grabbing a bottle and a glass, he kept one hand in his pocket, where his gun was. Ducking, he hurried back to his cabin, the footsteps now seeming very close. Warm breath touched the back of his neck, and he could almost feel something brush against his back.

I'd better alert Lucky!

Andamo's pace quickened as he raced to Lucky's cabin, but as soon as his hand touched the knob he felt a huge KNOCK on the back of his head. His consciousness going, he collapsed to the ground, dropping the glass and bottle, the dark purple liquid spilling all over the floor.