The guards from the prison seemed to give up. Apparently watching most of their compatriots treading water and clinging to the shattered hulls of their sundered boats. Those were the lucky ones. Those aboard the helicopters had to either leap for their lives or explode inside They'd be out here for hours, waiting for someone to pick them up and that was fine with Carlos. The longer they spent chasing and recovering their people, the less people could be spared to search for them.

Carlos angled their boat towards a civilian harbour, some sort of yacht club. It was the sort of club that the affluent and powerful bought membership in and yet only attended rarely and then, mostly to show off their vast wealth or to party with a half dozen women twenty years younger than themselves. There was just such a group there no on a twenty foot long yacht that had probably never been out to sea. One man in his sixties was dancing with five women that must have been just out of their teens. Behind them, upon the shore was a bar intended only for the wealthy of the yacht club with incredibly overpriced items on the ticket.