IT'S ANOTHER WARM EVENING ON ST. Kitts, and the customers gather at Fisherman's Wharf to drink Carib beer, eat lobster tails and listen to the pulsing beat of soca music. Outside, crickets chirp and waves murmur on the beach. The air is soft, the breeze sweet. It's hard to imagine a cozier, more peaceful spot to unwind from winter's onslaught, which explains why every year at this time thousands of sun-starved American and European tourists migrate to St. Kitts by plane and cruise ship. Most of them are unaware that the sleepy little isle also accommodates a more sinister group of...
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