It's the late 1990s and a team of Belize and gangsters are piloting a boat off the coast of Honduras.

Ordinarily this kind of trip, a couple hundred mile hop and a skip past Kays in the Caribbean sea is for coconuts or timber.

Or maybe at a stretch, the killer weed that Belizeans are known for growing in their jungles so dense the soldiers of foreign armies use it for extreme training.

In the late 90s, Central America is on fire. Civil wars in El Salvador and Guatemala have decimated civil society in

bold and vicious street gangs and flooded the region with guns. And it's that cargo that these makeshift sailors are after

to consolidate control of Belize's underworld under the auspices of one man and

his ragtag band of local enforcers.

Now I can't say that man's name, nor the name of his gang in the show,

because this is a tale that came to me direct from a guy who'd be killed if I did so.

But let's just say this guy is big, really big and he is the connective tissue between the Belize and streets and massive regional

cartels who want to use the tiny nation of 400,000 people to ferry contraband

direct into the United States.

And the guns, this quote, whole boat full of guns,

all kinds of guns, is going to help this one

tiny gang push out all the others and bring control of Belize City,

the country's po-dunk commercial heart into the hands of just a few criminals. Only, this guns for cash deal, it's not going to run so smooth.

Having picked up the weapons, the boat's just a couple miles off the coast of Honduras

when a massive storm strikes, pushing the gangsters back onto the shore.

The next morning, they head out again. But this time, when they're not far from home, another storm hits.

Quote, the whole sea just get angry and mad, my man says.

We'll call him sunny.

Captain says we've got to turn back, so we turned back. Except there ain't no turning back. The

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