Thebaypirate | [work]

The fog over Chesapeake Bay was thick as stolen wool, muffling the world into shades of grey. To the tourists docked at the Annapolis marina, it was a nuisance. To Elias "Eli" Vane, it was a cloak.

Croft, knee-deep in his flooding cabin, spat static. "You’re a pirate, Vane. You have no honor." thebaypirate

A modern-day corporate raider named Silas Croft had caught wind. Croft’s ancestor was the lead name in those ledgers. Now Silas ran a shipping conglomerate that bore the same stolen crest. He arrived at the marina not with a boat, but with a gleaming black helicopter and a lawyer who smiled like a shark. The fog over Chesapeake Bay was thick as

"The Bay has its own laws," Croft said, stepping onto Eli’s dock as the fog rolled in. "Finders keepers is for children. You’ll sell me the coordinates." Croft, knee-deep in his flooding cabin, spat static