Come on down to Florida, I got something for ya. Halfway between Miami and Key West lies a what should be paradise. Palm trees lined white beaches and clear blue water crashed upon their shores. The city of Marathon took over a grouping of several islands, each one as picturesque as the next; drawing in the masses to visit the resort areas in the north, and keeping the locals content in the south. With it's easy laid back vibe, and scenery to die for, it was no wonder this town of just under ten thousand locals was such a premiere destination for beaches and shopping and dining among Oceanseas Hwy cutting through the middle of the islands. Known for it's sports fishing, with several charter fishing boats departing from local marinas every morning to both the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean. Bountiful reefs around Marathon make it a popular diving, snorkeling, spear fishing, and lobster tickling area

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We can see the kilos or the Keys, baby, oh yeah. But this dream location was nothing but that. A dream. Under the cover of the brilliant tropical sun, there was a dark seedy underbelly at play. Drugs filtered in from the south to make their way north to Miami, small arms coming in from the east, and illegal aliens coming from places unknown. Working for a higher power shrouded in secret simply known as the Founders, there were many locals who earned a supplemental income by these criminal means. Cops who turned a blind eye to the boats that arrived in Boot Key Harbor, Customs officials ignoring the extra sniffs by the dogs at the small regional airport, the pretty bartender who unloaded kilos tucked within bottles of spiced rum, and the charter boat captain who picked up more than lobster and crab in their traps. 

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The town folks run their slice of heaven, catering to the vacationing families who were so acutely unaware of the deals going down among them, of the tension that could so easily ride among the beach town, but the locals have learned to ebb and flow with knowing this town will never fully belong to them like the ocean that surrounds. The violence had it's touch everywhere, and the power stemmed from somewhere so far above it was unknown who really ran this town -- so easily divided by north where the rich ran rampant and the tourists flocked, and the south, where locals lived their lives among the imposing threat of the Network and all it brought in; knowing who was who among the players, and finding it was far less dangerous to work with them, then stand against.