Virgil stood at dockside, observant; watchful. The security threat had been posted and every man appeared to be extra vigilant.
Reports of vandalism and sabotage had heightened of late, making the last few weeks before his retirement more stressful than the past twenty years. They had dangled that early retirement carrot before his eyes, but it wasn’t about any sweet financial package. Virgil loved being productive and helpful.
Boat after boat, ship after ship, Virgil kept his guard up for anything suspicious. Arrant barnacles had been mistaken for plastic explosive by one of the night shift inspectors, and he still catches flack from the crew. New guys were always conscientious to a fault. But. Virgil believed you were better safe than sorry.
He watched and waited. Three more weeks without incident, and Virgil could put his blue helmet into storage. Until then, Virgil kept vigil.