PENANCE: Cain Taggert

The body bobbed in the water like sea-wrecked garbage. The Gulf of Aden didn't care who you were. Diplomat, soldier, emissary. When you pissed off the wrong men in this world, the sea became your grave.
Vladimir Antonov stood at the edge of the dock, lighting a Davidoff cigarette. Behind him, two guards held their rifles like religious items—stiff, alert, and waiting for orders. The dead emissary floating in the harbor was his man. His message.
"Barre thinks I'm some goddamn bazaar merchant,"...