"Will you try to run away if we let you walk?" asked Guy Fawkes, kneeling down by Marin and producing a switchblade from his shorts pocket.

"I wish," she said, hoping that the defeat she sprinkled in her tone would convince the guys to untie her. She of course had no intention of running away—these smugglers were the perfect ticket back to the States—but she couldn't sound too enthusiastic about being kidnapped and turned in to the authorities. Marin didn't want the smugglers thinking she was weird, or anything.

Guy Fawkes cut Marin's ankles loose and grabbed her elbow, lifting her to her feet.

"Don't even think about it," he warned. Marin nodded meekly.

One of the smugglers who had yet to say anything, an old man with a spectacularly long white beard and a spectacular frown, silently began picking up suitcases and shouldering them. Marin watched in disbelief as he loaded more and more luggage onto his back. Once the old man had disappeared under a mountain of suitcases, that mountain started moving along the shoreline toward a grove of palm trees right on the water. 

"Let's go," said Red Eyebrows, grabbing a suitcase with each hand and following the old man. Shades, Moustache, and Guy Fawkes followed suit. The last smuggler, a man who seemed more muscles and scars than man, took the last suitcase with one hand while the other clamped down on Marin's shoulder. She winced and began walking at his side.

In a clearing within the grove of aquatic palm trees was a small rowboat. Marin let herself be thrown onto it like just another suitcase.

"Nice boat," she commented as they pulled out of the trees and into open water, Scars at the oars. "But can you really row to Florida?"

This, much like her first attempt at Spanish in four years, set the smugglers guffawing. After a while, they calmed down, and Guy Fawkes replied,

"If you think this is a nice boat, just wait until you see our REAL ship!"

Marin sniffed. She liked the idea of a harsh sea journey in what was nothing more than a bold dinghy. Oh well. Marin focused on the sparkling water and tried to ignore the cramped conditions on the rowboat.

After roughly ten minutes of rowing, silence was broken by Shades.

"I think we're forgetting something," he said, ponderously palming his pate.

"Is it maybe the fact that this girl possesses the power to destroy us instantly, whenever she desires it?!" snapped Beard.

"Oh, right," responded Shades, sheepish.

"It is a slight problem," Mustache observed.

"Nah, it's no problem for us," cut in Guy Fawkes. "She probably wants to get back to America, so she won't hurt us before she gets there. And she can just as easily escape the feds as she can us—at least judging by the French broadcast we saw—so she might as well let us get our money!"

"She might as well kill us in Florida, you dimwit!" yelled Beard, looping his beard around his neck and pantomiming being hanged.

"Think about this," reasoned Guy Fawkes, "we're not turning her in in Florida, right? We're bringing her to our friends in New York <i>after</i> we finish delivering our goods! And she wants to get to New York, 'cause that's where her boyfriend is."

"H-how did you know that?!" questioned Marin, until this point ignoring the conversation as she felt secure in her ability to escape anyone at any point. Whether they knew of her powers only affected their perception of who controlled the situation. Knowledge of her personal life, though—that tipped the scales.

Guy Fawkes shrugged. 

"I'm legion."