Ransom was nervous. He never liked it when the feds came snooping around, but this time he had no choice. The problem was more than he could handle alone. The fish hatchery meant jobs. Dead fish meant no jobs; simple. After the second die-off of all the hatchery fish he made the call. Seattle FBI Agent Gerald Hinch made him pay for that call. But Ransom swallowed his pride. The tribe came first and that was his job. Take care of the tribe.
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