Eddy was one of my most likable clients; a young former lieutenant in the operation of one of Miami's Cuban-American smuggling kingpins, he had struck out on his own, setting up an effective maritime operation. My end included registering his vessels in the United Kingdom, using the remoteness of the Caribbean British Dependent Territories as a shield; by the time the registry documents reached their UK destination, Cardiff, a newly-registered ship had already returned from a completed smuggling adventure.

His ships' crew chiefs liked to pose as charter captains, so we formed one charter company after another in the more unregulated tax havens. I sometimes created back-up registrations for certain vessels in the State of Delaware, in the event that the UK registry and name became too well known. The Delaware registration document, together with a new name and a quick change of color, could mask the ship's true identity from routine law enforcement examination.

I also was required to assist in aviation matters; this would mean traveling to some obscure airfield in the rural American South, and purchasing, after inspection and flight testing, a suitable aircraft, for cash, from a seller who was usually more than ready to unload their expensive toy. After the craft had been fitted with additional fuel tanks (it's a long way to Colombia) and such niceties as hatches that were modified so as to allow airdrops of contraband, the aircraft was ready to go.

Whilst Eddy was a great guy, his partners, three crazy brothers who liked to masquerade as real estate investors, unfortunately were not. I never liked it when clients waved handguns around in a machismo manner, as I learned in Vietnam that firearms, in the hands of idiots, have a bad habit of going off when you least expect it. 

One of the "Brothers," as we called them (though they were Hispanic), claimed to have served in the Marines in Vietnam, and was always intrigued by my use of military hardware. Years later, I learned from a law enforcement source that he had never served in any branch of the US military. He was the exception, though, as I met many veterans of America's fifteen-year conflict in Southeast Asia in the drug trade, especially in high-risk air smuggling roles, using their military skills to earn high six-figure fees to deliver contraband. 

On one trip, the drugs were flown from the Colombia-Venezuela border to Andros Island, which is close to the US, but still quite isolated and desolate. After a running gun-battle with some local Bahamians intent upon stealing the load, the cocaine was then fiberglassed into a fast speedboat, and piloted into the Florida Keys by a hired hand. 

Never try to cut costs in criminal activity; it may be your undoing. Eddy's group engaged a reasonably priced smuggling captain who was, unfortunately, in the employ of US law enforcement. The load, Eddy, and two other participants, were arrested. The Brothers, not being directly involved, were not charged, and escaped justice.

Eddy received 20 years for his crimes, and ended up serving seven years, much of which was spent in bad places you would not want to spend extended periods in, due to the probable cellmates you would draw, and the lack of amenities. The Brothers later were tagged by law enforcement in another case, and served similar sentences.

Eddy is now a successful businessman, perhaps due in part to his having served a substantial sentence at a young age, and being released whilst still young enough to travel down the straight path to legitimate wealth. The whereabouts of the Brothers remains a mystery, but frankly I'm not interested in looking up former clients who once threatened my life if I moved a certain smuggling vessel (known as the UPS truck due to its prolific smuggling history) out of its offshore location. A storm later ran it aground, and it became salvage.  

Next Week: Now that you know their stories, next time we will discuss what financial services I performed in support of these clients' activities.