Tampa Star (Blackfox Chronicles Book 1) by T.S. O'Neil Read Free Book Online Page B

of World War II and an eventual rebirth in 1958 when a Texas oilman with a nostalgic twinge decided to buy the place where he and his wife of thirty years had once honeymooned.
    Char took the tickets and looked down at the distinguished old sailor seated behind the desk and waited for the catch.  The Commodore read Char’s expression and continued, “the price of admission is twofold my young protégé; one that you listen to a short investor’s presentation meant to solicit capital from the assembled ranks of Tampa Bay’s fat cats to fund a floating casino that this crazy Aussie is trying to keep afloat.”
    “And two?” 
    “Two is that you run roughshod over Tommy and keep him from making a jackass out of himself as I promised him the other
    ticket, answered the Commodore. I would say keep him from getting drunk, but we both know that will be impossibility.”
    Char nodded.  Tommy liked his drink and that was fine if he drank beer, but if there was an open bar, Tommy would go straight for the bourbon and the result could be calamitous.
    “Ok, enough about Tommy.  Let me brief you on how I want you to handle any discussion with Simon Block.  Lots of folks in Tampa and St. Pete used to fly to Havana to gamble, but Castro took over, nationalized the casinos and the U.S. has had an embargo in place since after the Bay of Pigs.”
    Char was aware of the botched invasion—it had been one of his primary motivations for joining Special Forces. He felt the U.S. had left the 1400 or so Cuban exiles of Brigade 2506, stranded on the beach as over fifteen times their number of regular Cuban troops attacked them. Funny, the U.S. basically did the same thing in Viet Nam—left the Republic of South Vietnam high and dry. 
    The Commodore continued, “So, there is a lot of pent up demand for gambling among that crowd.  The guy’s plan is to lure the crowd that used to go to Havana to board his converted ocean going ferry, take them outside the territorial waters of the U.S., feed them some first rate food and drink and then fleece them in elegant splendor. Block made a speech at the Rotary Club and the guy latched on to me like pitch on Navy Whites. Feel free to introduce yourself as my personal representative, feign some level of interest in the project, be polite and don’t get visibly drunk.  Other than that, feel free to have a good time.” 
    Char thought what the he ck, a free meal and booze at a four star resort would suit him just fine and he figured Carla would welcome the invitation as, aside from going out for an occasional dinner of pizza or fish, most of their time together was spent on Carla’s overstuffed mattress.
    The following evening Char left his trailer dressed in khaki colored chinos, a white shirt, a blue and gold naval academy tie that the commodore had lent him, and an unremarkable light blue sports jacket. He approached the office and at first did not recognize the elegant figure standing outside smoking.  Carla was dressed in a white gown that clung to her voluptuous figure like wet tissue paper, while also offering a plunging view of her tanned and firm breasts.  She wore a shear bra under the gown and still her large silver dollar sized nipple
    was slightly noticeable. Around her neck she wore a simple strand of white pearls.
    “You’re late” she said, while stepping on the cigarette butt.  Char embraced her and kissed her deeply while sliding a hand along the curve of her ass.
    “You look beautiful, my darling,” was all he all he could think to say. 
    Carla insisted that they take her 1959 Silver Karmann-Ghia, the poor man’s Porsche, she explained.
    “Another gift from the husband?”  
    “Ex-husband,” she corrected. “He liked to take care of me.”
    And who could blame him , thought Char.  
    They arrived at the valet station and headed for the patio, where the hotels marquee seafood restaurant, the Don Carlo Grille, was located. The restaurant was simple