Date: Wed, 24 Sep 2008 18:27:19 -0400
From: chris james <drmeta4@gmail.com>
Subject: Hitch-hiking can be Dangerous, Chapters 9 & 10

   Dear Reader: adult fare, minors under the age of 18 are not allowed to
view the contents.

	To those of you who have been worried that this story is ending
beware, it will...someday.  I have been very happy with the reader response
so far and the kind comments have been both encouraging and constructive.
Some of you feel I could take this story to the ends of the earth, a
never-ending story if you will. But the characters would tire, the story
line lose it's appeal and then you would go elsewhere.

	Now to keep the readers engaged, and crank up the excitement level
a bit. And for those of you who wonder...love is not always a kiss,
sometimes you have to fight for what you love, I offer these chapters. And
as always, your comments welcome.

	drmeta4@gmail.com


	    Hitch-hiking can be Dangerous- Chapter 9 & 10 (M/B)


	The hotel looked quiet at two in the morning, no sign of the
absurdly lax security force Ricardo maintained. I walked boldly into the
main entrance and made for the elevators. Suddenly I needed to see Chris,
to hold him in my arms.

	I inserted the key and slid quietly into the room...and there he
was. He lay asleep on my side of the bed, clutching my pillow in his
arms. He looked so peaceful like this, so soft and vulnerable. And that's
what bothered me.

	Jerry had been so much like this, so blissfully unaware of the
dangerous world around him. That would be gone now, his innocence stripped
and laid bare by these murderous thugs. I hoped he was all right; he just
had to be...vengeance was such a horrible waste of precious time.

	For if they had hurt him, one tiny little hair...I would lash out
with such a storm of hate and murderous intent that no one in that Morales
family would survive. My guys would support me, they always had. We had
done things too horrible to contemplate, things best left buried in the
desert sand. But as I looked down at Chris I knew that he alone was the
reason I would never lose control like that again.

	I showered and slid into bed beside him, retrieving my pillow and
taking its place in his arms. He slept the sleep of innocence, secure in my
life and my love. But the next few days would be a test of those values; he
would see and hear much...too much. I could not protect him from the savage
fury of the actions we would unleash; he needed to know what it meant to be
strong.

	I had just fallen asleep when Tommy came knocking...was it seven
already? I went in the adjoining room and we sat, beginning to make our
arrangements while the boy slept on. We looked at the disks Eduardo had
made, background information on the cartels gleaned from the public
records. It seems a lot of officials had died trying to control the spread
of drugs.

	"These guys are fucking animals," I finally said. "They murder just
about anyone."

	"Murder is a refuge of the weak, it takes a strong hand to control
the living without it," Tommy said.

	"More of that Chinese philosophy you've been reading lately?" I
asked.

	"Nope, just common sense. How do we control the animals...kill them
all?"

	"A frontal assault is out, their compound is like a fortress,
especially that church," I said, looking at pictures of the old Spanish
church. Seems it had been a tourist attraction for years until the cartel
secured the location.

	"A Trojan horse maybe?"

	"Hmm... about as effective as a wounded duck," I said. "This has to
be quick."

	A Trojan horse took too much time to set up, but acting like a
bunch of lost tourists would only take us so far. We had to infiltrate
based upon specific information as to where the boys were kept. No sense in
robbing a bank if the money had been moved elsewhere.

	"We need a diversion to draw off the main force, a secondary
movement to confuse our intentions and the real snatch and grab to take the
boys out," I said.

	"Someone has to be inside if that's going to work. At the first
sign of trouble they may try to eliminate the hostages or use them as
shields," Tommy said.

	"Then I have to allow myself to be captured...and I have a very
good reason to be there, my son. They ought to believe that," I said.

	"You always stick your neck out like that, no wonder I look so much
like a hero...always rescuing your ass in the nick of time. So what are you
planning to do, just knock on the door and ask to see your son?"

	"Something like that, but I plan to go to church first," I
said. "They'll let me in if they think I'm worth something."

	And the plan evolved as we spoke. I would go in, be taken and
probably locked up while they thought about my offer. I would offer a
ransom, a sum big enough to make it worth their while. Tommy and company
would probe the outside, secure the escape route and become the strike
force. Over time the plan would involve elements we had pulled off before.

	Tommy went out to secure us two serviceable vehicles; I suggested
he try Hertz at the airport for starters. I needed to make some
arrangements with Ricardo, but first I needed to wake Chris and get us both
going.

	Nibbling on his earlobe produced the right results, Chris rolled
over with a bright smile.

	"How did it go last night?" He asked.

	"Good, learned enough to make it worthwhile."

	Chris propped himself up in bed. "What am I going to be doing while
you go out chasing the bad guys?"

	"You and Oliver will run the show from here. We'll all be linked by
a highly secure radio network. Communications is the backbone of any
operation, especially when guys are spread out all over the place.

	"But it's more than that too; Oliver is very good at analyzing
information.  And just so you know, he's a really good soldier, someone I
admire...I think you will too."

	"You have such cool friends," Chris said. "I had no idea you were
into all this stuff."

	"No, but that's why we're successful...no one knows. I took a team
of combat ready men and forged a security company. I think for what we do
there isn't much in the way of competition. Unfortunately we've been the
choice of last resort for some clients who let things get out of hand."

	Chris threw his arms around my neck. "I feel safe with you around,"
He said. And that was the point, he needed to feel safe...but then Jerry
trusted me too and it felt like I had let him down.

	"Come on, time to get up...the guys will be here in a while," I
said.

	We showered without fooling around, I had things to show him before
the guys dropped in. I had room service make us a light breakfast and asked
them to bring it down to the dock. I got Ricardo on the line and said we
would need his meeting room this afternoon, he promised us lunch and total
privacy. Then Chris followed me down to the boat and I began to reveal a
few things.

	I showed him the trick with the hood over the kitchen
range. Between them I figured Chris and Oliver could manage to take it
apart. He gasped when I slid the box out and showed him the weapons.

	"Remember my words; these are not to be fooled with unless you need
to protect yourselves. I want Oliver to agree before you load one of these,
he'll show you how. For your size and ability I would recommend the Uzi. It
has little kick and sprays bullets like a fire hose, all you have to do it
point it in the general direction of what you want to hit."

	I put my hand on his shoulder for emphasis. "Chris, killing people
is bad business and something I hope you never have to do. The clip holds
thirty rounds and if you hold the trigger down it will go empty in a matter
of seconds. Nothing is more dangerous than an empty gun so take it easy if
you have to fire it. Again, Oliver will show you how to load it if
necessary."

	I took him onto the aft deck and pulled up the access hatch. We
looked down at the engine compartment and I dropped down beside the large
diesel motors, turning back to give Chris a hand. We crawled over to the
bilge access door and I twisted the handle.

	Needless to say the smell was a bit raunchy, but there was little
water to block our view.

	"See those...uh, bricks?" I reached down and pulled one up, it came
away from the Velcro mountings with a ripping sound. "This is the
ammunition for those weapons, the outside is rubber, and it only looks like
a brick." We stacked several of them on the deck and I closed up the hatch.
	We carried the bricks up to the galley and stacked them beside the
stove. "Now you have bullets for the Uzi and the M-16's, the pistols will
be coming with me. OK, on to other business," I said.

	I showed him where they could set up the communications gear, power
outlets to plug into and a boot in the overhead that they could remove to
run the antenna wires up the mast.

	"You afraid of heights?" I asked.

	"No, I can climb a palm tree in a heartbeat," Chris said.

	"Good, same theory for climbing the mast, but the sail has to be up
for it to work. Just take it easy, I'll try to help when the time
comes. You know the boat, where the supplies are...you guys may be living
here for a few days. Just be careful not to attract attention, and if you
need anything just ask Ricardo."

	We ate breakfast as I checked the weather reports. The week looked
better and better, drying up by the weekend. The same could not be said for
the hurricane in the Gulf, it was about to tear Texas a new asshole. I had
been to Galveston many times, fond times that looked like they were about
to become history. I remembered how close to sea level they were, the
islands would be devastated.

	Tommy interrupted my thoughts; it was time to get the troops. He'd
rented a green Expedition from God knows where. A good solid vehicle for
carrying heavy weight and it would soon be tested. Chris joined us as we
took off for the airport in Cancun.

	The five men that walked up the ramp looked like something out of a
Hollywood movie about American tourists. The flowered Hawaiian shirts, the
straw hats and baseball caps almost made me laugh...but they had gone
through customs without a hitch.

	We loaded the golf clubs in the SUV while Tommy led Nate over to
the Hertz counter to pick up vehicle number two. I introduced Chris to the
guys and especially Oliver. At least the cast was only on his left forearm.

	"Car slipped off the jack," he explained," At least they gave me a
cool cast."

	I laughed; looking down at the camouflage pattern, at least that
was practical. The guys all shook hands with Chris and he looked each of
them in the eye.  I don't know when the change had occurred, but the boy
was self-confident now. We retrieved their baggage and loaded them in the
in the Jeep Wrangler Tommy had procured as the second vehicle.

	Ricardo had given us most of the third floor. Fortunately it wasn't
the peak season for his hotel and the rooms were available. We commandeered
several rolling carts and trucked our stuff up the elevators. Each man was
given two hours to rest up and shower, and then we would begin.

	I could tell Chris was excited, he babbled about the things he'd
heard the guys say, the brief glimpse of their exploits that they often
shared. Each man had a specialty, something they were good at, but at the
same time they were real human beings...I respected that.

	We'd all been through the same training, the same fights, and had
discovered ourselves to be among men we trusted. No one individual could
have survived what we'd experienced, yet as a team we thrived. To that end
I trusted their input, and I knew there would be more than one opinion of
what we were about to do.

	Command did not easily yield to a democratic form of thinking, but
I valued each and every one of the men's opinions. Sometimes they were too
cautious, although it was not their personal safety that they were
expressing. Missions always took on a life of their own as they kicked off;
we adjusted or paid the consequences. So far we had always done the right
thing, and to be honest, it wasn't always my decision that mattered.

	Chris and I soaked in a hot bath tub, the boy sitting in my lap.  I
was yielding to my feelings, knowing that I would miss him these next few
days. I could not explain the danger of what I had planned; I didn't know
that much about it myself. But if something went horribly wrong I knew that
Tommy or one of the guys would get Chris back to Max...his life would go
on.

	A warm soapy boy in my arms, the perfect ingredients for love, stir
gently and rub with affection. Chris positively purred, he rolled over and
began rubbing our bodies together. It was like that first time we had
touched, the beginning of our sexual adventures in Key West. Only now he
was experienced, now it was real. He pressed into me, our cocks flat
between the flesh of our bodies and we danced...a slow dance of pleasure.

	His fingers sought my face, my ears, my flesh and I devoured his
tongue, our lips pressed and searching for that perfect meeting place. Oh
God, he felt to so good, so alive in my arms. His passion was everything I
needed...wanted. To have found the perfect boy was like a dream, a joy I
could not explain, just enjoy.

	I moaned, he moaned...the soap was working its magic. I felt the
head of his cock rub a groove above my belly button and I flexed my stomach
muscles to thrill him...a groan of appreciation from deep in his chest. My
cock was rubbing beneath his balls, the fleshy orbs encircling my length,
inspiring me to be gentle in such a sensitive area.

	I could feel his desperation to achieve orgasm, he was rutting with
me, and I reached down to grasp his bottom, pulling him up...pulling him
into my flesh. I suppose it was cheating, but I rubbed my fingers along his
crease, finding that special spot where my cock so often thrust...and Chris
squealed.

	His ministrations became frantic, his body going into overdrive and
flat out running for the finish line. That familiar groan vibrated my lips,
his signature moment had arrived...and he came in pulsing gushes of warm
seed spreading out across my belly.

	His orgasms had become stronger of late, I noticed the change. The
semen itself had become thicker, more solid than watery as I first
remembered it. He was fast approaching adulthood, although I had yet to
find a single hair under his arms or even fuzz upon his lip. His impending
maturity excited me, gave me cause to relish the moment and smile at the
future.

	His body would grow; we would have every moment to share the
changes and then one day I would realize he was twenty-five and my love for
him was still unbounded. He worried that I might dismiss the man as
unworthy, but I knew I would welcome the years of his growth, reveling at
every nuance in time. Our time...our love, I would be his forever.

	Chris leaned back, putting pressure on my cock, willing me to come
to the edge and tumble over just as he had. I gazed up into his adoring
eyes and let go, adding to the pool of seed that coated my belly and clung
to me amidst the droplets of soap and water on my skin.

	His nipples beckoned me and I pulled him down, tonguing his pert
little points and nibbling on his flesh. I could eat him; he was so soft
and yielding. I looked up at him, my eyes raised to the limit and he
laughed. The joy of that sound made me tingle and I pulled him down, down
into an embrace that should never end for the joy it brought me...but duty
called.

	We'd had our moment, our pleasure...and I knew...God and the forces
of nature willing, we would be here again. I would gladly take a
bullet...face certain death and the pain that caused, to get back to this
boy. I owed Jerry and Miguel something, we would resolve that crisis. But I
owed this boy my life, my heart, my future...he was worth everything to me.

	The meeting room was quiet, the guys barely talking to one another
as they worked on the plates of food Ricardo had provided. The banquet, for
that is what it appeared to be, was spread out in heated chafing dishes
along a covered table set against the wall. There were no waiters, no one
would be allowed in the room as we met and planned.

	Chris and I were the last to arrive, and were met with gazes that
varied from friendly to anxious...that was to be expected. We helped
ourselves to some food, sat down...and Tommy began to talk.

	"Guys, we have a difficult task ahead," He said, the way he always
started these proceedings. As my number two I had always allowed him to
chair the planning sessions, I'd never known him to run out of words. He
was eloquent, but never mouthy...and he never missed a beat when it came to
inspiring the guys to be their best.

	Tommy laid out the problem. Mayor's son, my son, the kidnapping the
remote enemy compound. And then he told them I was gonna be the inside man,
the one who would find the hostages and be held with them until we were
rescued.

	Chris stopped eating and stared at me. I nodded, and then Tommy
said it was necessary if we were to get the intel we needed. But I knew my
boy was now worried, I was going into harm and he could do nothing to stop
it.

	Oliver spoke up. "I brought some new little gadgets Gary can use,
damn near fool-proof even though they are short range.  I can replace the
button on his jeans with a microphone that transmits on VHF, has a range of
three miles or better over water. The circuits are in an iron on patch we
place in the pocket, virtually undetectable. Thank the CIA for this one."

	"So you can hear but I can't talk back," I said.

	"You have a belt buckle for that one. Sorry, it's a Western thing,
but it's a two way, the button is just a backup. It has a call up feature
set to vibrate; only you'll know when we wanna talk. And the belt has a
garrote in the lining; the throwing knives will be in the boots."

	I laughed. "Now I'm a cowboy...long as it works. Suppose if I need
a weapon I can get one from the guards, always worked before." I looked
around the table. "Thanks for being here guys; I got you covered on this
one."

	They all grumbled, they weren't here for the pay...loyalty
motivated them, but I smiled.  "The Morales cartel is into drugs, there
ought to be some loose cash lying around...just don't take more than you
can carry." The guys laughed, all except Nate.

	Kuwait, the remnants of an Iraqi headquarters vehicle. Nate found a
box of gold coins, the spoils of war he immediately determined, and he
tried to make off with it. The burden was just too much for him and he
enlisted the help of a local who immediately drove off with it in his
car. Nate was furious and we all laughed at him, lesson learned.

	'OK, plan is as follows," I said. "Ricardo is loaning us his
limo. He assures me the driver can get us through the gate and up to the
church. I hope they decide to lock me up with the boys so I can check on
them, I will insist they do.

	"The church is part of their fortified position, and thus a target
of opportunity. They might not like that, but they chose the site not
us. It won't go down well with the authorities if we trash an important
holy site so I better brush up on my Catholic virtues." A few snickers.

	"Tommy and Jackson will drive in as tourists. You'll wander the
village and scope out the people. I imagine some of them will be part of
the cartel so look for weapons. I don't know how fast this will unroll; I
will bankroll your venture so you can buy some stuff to keep the locals
happy."

	"Just stay away from their senioritas," Nate said. "No more hot
water." That brought a general round of laughter and Jackson grinned.

	Jackson Delmar, college boy, NFL hopeful until he slipped quietly
into the Navy. He'd been caught with the Dean's wife in a mutual shower
scene and had to leave town abruptly. He was a strong man, and a ladies
man, but not here. Putting the two black men together as friends on tour
made the most sense, alone they would be standouts.

	"Ok, Nate and Mark will take the waterfront," I said. "I need your
eyes to tell me if the yacht is there. A lot of watercraft around, many
take tourists across to Cozumel Island.  We may consider that avenue of
escape ourselves, but not if the yacht is left functional. It's supposed to
be armed and dangerous. I'm sure Mark will think up a unique demo package
for those guys."

	He'd blown up an entire convoy of armed Iraqis in the middle of a
village without killing a single civilian, he was that good.

	"Rescuing the boys is one thing, but having Ignacio in our sights
will resolve a lot of local issues. We could get the boys out only to have
to face that jerk later on, I want both problems solved. Besides...he's
mine." The guys grinned at that, they understood.

	"Bobby will have perimeter patrol; he's the close up eyes and
ears. One word from him and we all move if they suspect anything and start
to form a resistance. I have some overhead shots of the compound and the
surrounding area. Highway 307 is the only way in and out, not a great
option if they get re-enforcements on the road too soon.

	"Oh, there is a Mexican Navy base some miles to the south, I don't
know if heading that way would help or hinder so I plan to head back to
Cancun with the boys. Maybe get lost in the tourist trade if they're still
capable of following us by then. In and out, that's the scenario for
now...any questions?"

	Mark nodded. "Any chance of us taking the yacht by force? That
would solve our transportation problems."

	"I imagine if Ignacio is aboard then it will be heavily defended,
but then so is the church compound. That would mean fighting two
battles...not gonna happen. I think we're spread thin enough. Eduardo is
going to contact his brother, one of the local military commanders after we
strike. They will do the mop up...well, unless they are in Ignacio's pocket
too.

	"The political scene dictates that we get the hell out of town. I
think we can safely stay here at the hotel a few days, no one knows we're
here now, but that could change quickly. You're all welcome to sail back
with me and the boys if you have the time to spare. Otherwise Max is
preparing a private jet for the return trip; it will be on call starting
tomorrow."

	"When do we go?" Mark asked.

	I looked around the room, it was my decision. "Tomorrow. The longer
we wait the bigger the chance that the enemy will discover the existence of
our strike team. Oliver and Chris will setup the Com post today, radio
checks and all that before dinner. Rest up and check your weapons...we
should jump off by late morning."

	"Late morning?" Tommy asked.

	"Yes, let the heat build up a bit. Makes the guards sleepy and then
they won't resist hustling me indoors when I arrive. If I get there by noon
or so you should be behind me only an hour, say one o'clock as your arrival
time. Heat of the day, hot tourists looking for refreshment, anything that
looks normal...peaceful. Go sit in a cafe, walk on the waterfront...I'll be
inside sweating my balls off."

	"Anyone bring a football?" Mark asked.

	"You wanna play ball?" Jackson asked.

	"Nope, I'll fill it with plastique and toss it to the guys on the
yacht with a remote detonator, have to deliver a blow for freedom
somehow. I saw that in a movie once."

	"Yeah, I did too...uh, Brad Pitt I think," Nate said. "They fought
the Iraqis Hollywood style." That got a lot of laughter; we'd done it the
hard way.

	"I have a ball," Jackson said.

	"Figured you might," Mark replied.

	I passed around the satellite photos I'd pulled off the internet
this morning. The layout was pretty clear, church and the enclosed fortress
at the north end of the village, road and gate facing the main street. It
looked positively medieval, and that was what I was counting on.

	Most old fortresses were solid stone, good cover in a firefight and
yet inflexible. Enemy positions would be fixed, making it easier for us to
take them over. The battlements I saw in the photos went right down to the
waterfront near the church, the beach didn't broaden out until further
south. The civilian population wouldn't be close to the action, any men
there would be the enemy and that would make it a free-fire zone.

	 The waterfront and the town docks weren't fortified; Mark would be
able to get close enough to the yacht to toss his ball if needed. Bobby
would look for chinks in the armor; find the back way in which might be a
better way out for me and the boys. I just hoped they were in good enough
shape to walk out, we might have to run.

	We found remote parking spots for the vehicles on a side road west
of town. There were lots of spidery trails around the village, most of them
showed up clearly on the overheads.

	"Look at this," Bobby said. He pointed to trace that seemed to come
out the back of the church and ended in a small square patch. "Bet that's a
cemetery." He said.

	"Good eyes, that means there's a back door somewhere," I said.

	"I'll find it," Bobby said. "Easy access to the beach or the trees,
depends on which way is best I suppose. Lines of defense will determine
that."

	I nodded in agreement. Some of the guys engaged Chris in discussing
Jerry and Miguel. I figured Tommy had been at work on that to give my boy a
voice in the proceedings. I had every confidence that he and Oliver would
hold us all together, they had to for this to work.

	Oliver and Chris carried the Com kits down to the boat; they looked
just like two ordinary Samsonite suitcases. Oliver was in the electronics
business and had been for years. His contacts with the covert services in
our country were real, and he had developed much of the equipment himself.

	I was left holding a pair of cowboy boots and a belt, the buckle
was huge by my standards. But I fancied the embossed stallion with the ruby
eyes, control buttons Oliver had explained. Sorta took away a little of the
magic in my mind, but it would still look good with my jeans.

	Mark went back to his room with Jackson's football, while Tommy and
Jackson checked out the transportation. Nate and Bobby went off to do the
weapons check, I went to find Ricardo.

	"My driver is very concerned," Ricardo began. "I will take his
place for you."

	"Oh no, I can always get one of my men to drive," I said.

	"But he will not know the way. I can assure your passage to the
church, I must insist."

	Ricardo had an almost pleading look in his eyes. I knew he wanted
some part in all of this; his desire to please me overcame his personal
fear. I nodded in agreement and he brightened immediately.

	"What role will you be assuming?" He asked.

	"I'm a Texas oil man, lots of money. We will be there because
Eduardo's deputy has told me my son has been held hostage and might be
ransomed out of this mess. I hope it gets the man in a lot of hot water...I
really don't want Eduardo's name to come up."

	"Yes, good. The offer of money will be most welcome to those greedy
people. I would shoot them myself if I had the skills." He smiled. "But I
do not. Will they let us leave do you think?"

	"I don't know. I will insist on seeing my son," I said.

	"Yes, this is proper for a ransom. I pray that he will not be hurt,
Miguel too." Ricardo crossed himself.

	"You're Catholic?" I asked.

	"Of course, I do business with The Church."

	"So you've been inside this church the Morales family now owns,
tell me what it is like."

	He explained how the artwork inside was magnificent, the statuary
was considered sacred. And then there were the vaults where several noble
Spaniards had been interred in past centuries.

	"Vaults...there is a basement?" I asked.

	"Oh yes, it is the holiest place. The most cherished are buried
down there, they have great carved tombs. The not so great are buried in
the cemetery out behind the church."

	"But the walls are high and the church has been surrounded by this
fortress of brick and stone." I said. "How does one reach the cemetery?"

	"There is a door...ah, you seek an entrance, wonderful." Ricardo's
eyes gleamed; he was enjoying the use of his knowledge. "Yes, there is a
stout doorway at the base of the church underneath the altar above. It is
quite heavy, solid metal I think, but I have seen it only once. But Gary,
it locks from the inside, you cannot get in."

	"I will be inside looking for a way out, you have just solved my
problem," I said, and hugged him. Now he was really thrilled, he would be
good for whatever difficulties we faced.

	I went down to the boat and saw Oliver stringing antenna wire out
through the boot I had pointed out to Chris. The boy was inside as I crept
up on deck.

	"How's the setup going," I asked.

	"Good...that boy of yours is freakin smart as hell, he has this all
figured out already," Oliver said.

	I smiled. "Yes, he's very clever. You have weapons command over
him, mind that he doesn't point a loaded gun at you...he's never fired one
before."

	"He showed me the cache, very clever, Gary. Bet you been hauling
those things around for years and no one knew."

	"Yes, I bought them a long time ago," I said.

	"Well we'll keep them handy in case you bring any bad guys back
with you." Oliver laughed. "I sorta figured this boat was Plan B in case
everything goes to hell in a hand basket."

	"It's all ready to roll, tanks topped off and plenty of supplies,"
I said. "Plan B is better then no plan at all."

	"Got that right," Oliver said. "OK, are you gonna climb up there
or...well, I just can't, damn it. This frickin cast is a pain in the butt."

	"You planning to zip tie it to the masthead?" I asked.

	"Yeah, up there to the side, figure it won't foul the pulleys that
way in case we have to raise the sail in a hurry."

	"Good thinking...why don't we let Chris do us old men a favor?" I
said.

	"OK, mighty high up there, you think he can do it?"

	"Forty-five feet...about as tall as a palm tree I recon. He should
do just fine."

	Oliver leaned in the porthole and called Chris up on deck. The
boy's eyes gleamed as Oliver explained how the zip ties were to be attached
to the masthead. Chris nodded and looked up; I think he felt a little
nervous.

	"We need to raise the sail so you can use the rings to climb, we'll
just untie the lashings on the boom so the sail won't catch a breeze," I
said. "And I'm going to put a line around your waist for safety. You slip
and I'll just lower you down, OK?"

	Chris nodded, I saw relief now. We set about the lashings and
Oliver laid the wire out on the deck. Chris and I cranked on the winch,
sending the limp nylon sail upwards, it looked more like a banner now than
a sail. Chris gave me a sexy smile and I shook my head. God, the boy wanted
it again...now?

	"Later, let's finish this first...you still have an equipment check
to go through," I said.

	Chris nodded but rubbed his butt against my crotch as I tied the
line around his waist. He grasped the mast just like it was a palm tree. I
suggested he not use any means to tie his ankles together like tree
climbers did, the rings would make it easy. And up he went, never looking
down until he reached the top.

	He wrapped his legs around the mast and locked his ankles. Slowly
he pulled the antenna up on the signal line and within minutes had it
secured to the masthead. I held a firm grip on the line around his waist as
he descended; to him it was a piece of cake. Chris was all smiles as Oliver
clapped him on the back.

	"What a great freakin monkey, that took balls, boyo," Oliver
said. He looked up again. "Lets go see if it works, OK?"

	We went below decks and I saw a pile of gear on the coffee table,
wires running everywhere. Oliver turned it all on and connected the antenna
leads. He tuned a dial, punched a few buttons and we had salsa music coming
through the speakers.

	"Yup, it works. Chris, you did it partner." They high-fived and
Oliver went back to the equipment. I saw that look again and this time I
nodded.

	"Oliver, I'm going to take Chris back up to the hotel...how long do
you need?"

	"Be done in an hour, we'll check your belt out later and I still
need to sew on that button."

	"OK, I'll bring the pants down for dinner. We have a table all
squared away in the restaurant for seven o'clock...more free eats."

	"I like the sound of that," Oliver said.

	"So what got you goin again, my little horny toad?" I asked Chris
as we walked back up to the hotel.

	"Oliver has a huge cock...its massive," Chris said. "Oh, not that
he showed it to me but...well he doesn't wear underwear and I saw the damn
thing snaking down his leg in those cutoffs. Jeez, it shocked me and I
just...well, I wanna do something with you."

	I grinned. Oliver's appendage was notorious in the outfit, ten
inches of death we always joked. Guys in the navy get pretty raunchy in
close quarters and aboard ship things like that get noticed. Oliver was
modest about it; it was the other guys who'd entered him in that
contest. It was agreed he had the biggest one in the Mediterranean fleet
that year, the prize money kept us in beer for weeks.

	So Chris hade been perving, but then most of us went freeballing in
tropical conditions, underwear was just too uncomfortable. I barely got the
boy back to our room before he was tugging at my shorts. We hastily
stripped and fell on the bed.

	I knew his excitement was building because of the danger we faced,
that was part of it. But I wasn't about to inhibit any of our favorite
activities either, we needed to express our love and there was nothing
better than a little afternoon delight.

	Chris gave me the vacuum treatment and tongued every bit of sweat
off his body, a fair trade to get us started. But he had that cowboy
fantasy again and was soon riding my lap, a good eight inches of my
saddlehorn buried deep inside.

	I loved this position. Not only could I see his face but the way
his cock slapped against my belly was a really great turn on for us
both. The tap, tap, tap of his cock head was like a metronome, keeping the
beat as he hopped up and down. He loved to be in control, it fulfilled some
inner need. And what was good sex but fulfillment?

	I groaned as the pressure in my balls released and Chris grinned,
suddenly jumping up off my cock and leaping upwards. I saw his cock heading
for my face and I snagged it in my mouth right before he cut loose and
collapsed on my chest. God, what I would give to be able to fuck and suck
him at the same time. I knew others did it; I just couldn't bend that well.

	His taste filled my mouth, his scent filled my senses...rewards for
loving him, my little boy god. In many ways I worshiped him, he was
deserving...approaching the divine. And not once did I ever feel his love
for me wavered. Yes, we were truly blessed.

	The concept of blessings had been a part of my life growing up,
such devoutly religious parents and the church folk they admired assured
that. But my feelings had been drawn away, forced away as I realized my
difference and knew that none of them could accept me. I am what I am,
Popeye the Sailor said, I could only agree...and that is why I had run
away.

	This loving boy, the focus of my life, would never have to face
that ugliness, I wouldn't allow it. Gay children deserved better, kinder
treatment. Their lives were harder. There was none better to understand
that than myself. The emotional turmoil had screwed with my head for
years. Senseless...pathetic, and from folks who ought to know better.

	For a long time I had no use for church people, and now I was going
to be in their midst if only for a few hours. I had no delusions that the
Morales gang was a bunch of sanctimonious church supporters, it was all a
front. Killing people with drugs and prostituting women was far beyond the
moral vision of any church leaders.

	Chris rolled off the bed and hit the bathroom. Tomorrow morning I
would leave him, but I would be back. I had to come back; this was all too
new to end. I had never allowed my personal feelings to interfere with a
mission before, now they were there and I couldn't put them out of my
mind. Everything was tied up in the future of these three boys.

	I tried on my jeans and the belt, fortunately the boots fit as
well. Chris laughed and then suddenly stopped.

	"You don't have a hat...no cowboy ever goes without a hat," he
said.

	"Um, I suppose...but where would I get one?" I asked.

	"I saw hats at that little store by the restaurant, that place we
went our first night here...can we go there?"

	So we walked up the street and sure enough, a store with lots of
hats. Chris chose one that only made me smile, I looked at another. Until
we both reached for the same one, yes, this was it. Not your Texas pressed
felt, but a Mexican straw hat, lacquered with a feather band...perfect. The
locals would admire it; I would wear it with pride.

	I saw Bobby in the lobby and told him what Ricardo had said about
the vault under the church. He smiled and said he would ask Mark for a way
to open the door from outside if we needed help. A small shaped charge
ought to do it without bringing down the roof.

	One by one the guys drifted into the restaurant and we sat down for
one of Ricardo's famous meals. Oliver regaled the others with Chris' feat
at climbing the mast and the boy positively blushed at the attention. He
felt a part of us; I knew he had more than earned those brass balls by now.

	We lingered at the table after the food was gone, the waiters
bringing us pitchers of beer from the bar. No one drank to excess,
hangovers would be frowned upon. But it served to lubricate minds and bring
up old times. Chris sat with his ears tuned in and heard more that I might
have liked.

	Tommy talked his way through the timeline for tomorrow, everyone
nodded in agreement. Too many variables made a hard and fast plan
impossible, but if I had to go with a see-and-fix concept, this was the
bunch who could fix it. We all finally said good night and wandered off to
our rooms. Tommy took another walk around the perimeter.

	We had nothing but time to kill, this wasn't going to be a dawn
attack or anything close to a normal operation. I took a sheet of hotel
stationary and began to write while Chris watched television. It took me
half an hour and then I sealed the letter in an envelope, placing it on top
the set. Chris looked up and I smiled.

	"That's for you, just some information you might need if we have
problems," I said.

	Chris bounded off the bed and into my arms. "Nothing is gonna
happen to you, I know it," He said.

	"It would be foolish not to be prepared for the worst, but you open
that envelope if anything happens, OK?"

	"Yeah, it'll still be there when you get back."

	I tilted my head down and kissed him as he clung to my neck. On the
morrow we would do battle, the both of us, and I would remember this
moment. I had never had someone kiss me on the eve of conflict. The others
had their wives or girlfriends for such fond farewells, but now I had a
partner. And this singular moment brought all that to my mind and more,
inwardly I sighed with contentment.

	We retired by midnight, cuddled and slept...our physical needs had
been met; the needs of love would never be expended. And for the first time
in years I slept the deep sleep of a man at peace. No thoughts of the
conflict ahead kept me awake and tossing through the night, for I lay in
the arms of my beloved.

	Oliver delivered my jeans back before breakfast and after I
showered I put on my disguise for the day. I had to admit, as I looked in
the mirror, it was pretty convincing. Chris smiled and said it was the
hat. OK I'd go with that. Even got a few whistles and cat calls in the
dining room when the guys first saw me all dressed up.

	"Forget your horse?" Tommy laughed, but he nodded in appreciation.

	We kept it light during the meal. The limo would be ready at ten,
two hours later I would be standing in front of the church or
busted. Either way I would be inside, and then we could proceed. If they
went for the scheme I wouldn't have to be a part of an assault, but nothing
was going to stop our plan. Finally it was time and I saw Ricardo standing
in the lobby wearing that chauffeur's uniform.

	I gave Chris a big hug in front of everyone and he made me proud,
not a tear in sight. The guys each shook my hand and nodded, I knew they
would be all out for this one. No 'Semper Fi,' no 'do or die' from this
bunch, these were the berserkers of old when it came to battle...and God
help anyone who got in our way.

	Chris gave me a wave as I got in the car, and then he was left
behind. I'd seen Oliver put a hand on the boy's shoulder, he was in good
company. Ten minutes later my belt vibrated twice and I knew they were on
watch, our communications was up and running.



Chapter Ten

	......11:38 hours (military time)

	Ricardo looked up at me in the mirror as he drove. "I am
nervous...but focused," He admitted.

	"A smart man will be cautious at all times, nerves only allow that
to be focused," I said.  "If we get through the gate without conflict, all
the better. If they get suspicious we'll probably still be inside and
that's where I have to be for this to work."

	I thought a moment. "It's Friday, what do you suppose they will be
doing on a normal day like this?"

	"In your country Friday is the end of the work week; many tourists
come here on this day. I think it will look like you wish to see the
church, but then once inside you will ask to see the boss, yes?"

	"I don't imagine Ignacio jumps up every time someone comes
knocking, someone else opens his door," I said.

	"It would be best to ask the priest in the church, he will know,"
Ricardo said. "I am sure his name will be Morales too."

	"Family ties, religion and the cartel...that's disgusting," I said.

	"It is a poor area; money keeps the church alive, my friend....sad,
yes."

	We drove on in silence, passing the Cancun highway and forging on
further south. Halfway along, the highway swept close to the sea and I
marveled at the beauty of the water and the beaches. Tommy and the boys
would be saddling up right about now, following along to take up their
positions.

	I knew inside the vehicles that the golf bags had been opened up;
weapons were being assembled and checked. Bobby was carrying my Taurus
automatics; he would be the first one I saw after we made a break for it. I
felt almost naked without a weapon, but I would be searched before I saw
anyone of importance.

	Each man had a favorite weapon, all of them devastating. Nate was
our sniper of choice, but for up close work he preferred a shotgun. I had a
photo of him somewhere with criss crossed bandoliers of shells about his
body. He looked like a big game hunter, but he was good at clearing a path
with that twelve gauge.

	Mark carried the demo works on his hips and back, small packs of
death that often wiped out the enemy even before we got in close. I
wondered how he would carry that football. Like me he had been trained on
the M-16, small clips of bullets stuffed everywhere in his pockets. He
would buddy up well with Nate on this one.

	Bobby was a heavy weapons expert, rockets and cannons made him
smile...but he preferred the Uzi for his close up work. I'd seen him take
down an entire squad with one clip of ammunition; it was impressive since
it was my ass he'd saved. His jump pants had all kinds of room for the long
clips of bullets; he never seemed to run out of ammunition.

	Tommy and Jackson could kill with bare hands if need be. Several
fools had come in close with a knife and ended up with broken
necks. Martial arts was their passion, I was only passable in their eyes.

	Today they each had a pair of Taurus autos under their Hawaiian
tourist shirts. I almost laughed when Tommy showed me the leather shoulder
bag he carried for the ammunition, it was so gay. Be a fool to tell him
that, I liked my neck just the way it was.

	It wasn't long before the village of Playa del Carmen hove in
sight, the church spires standing tall against the waves of heat shimmering
above the road. Yes, it was another hot day, just what we needed. Even a
small breeze off the water would seem cool to these folk, they should try
southern Iraq if they thought this was bad.

	......13:00 hours (1pm to you civilians)

	Ricardo slowed, moving off the main interstate highway and onto a
small paved road leading into town. Playa del Carmen was a tourist
destination, the signs in English showed me that much. He pointed the car
towards the rise where the church sat as I glanced at the passing
townsfolk.

	The town was filled with men, too many men. Some sat on chairs
outside cantinas; others lounged in small groups under shady trees. Were
these working men or hired thugs...cartel men?  I counted several dozen and
wondered why they were just standing around waiting. Had Ignacio been
warned?

	A bus came at us from the other direction and Ricardo had to pull
over to give it room. And then to my relief I saw the groups break up and a
whole line of men stood up to board the bus. Good, most of them were
leaving town. I realized it would be difficult to spot the dangerous ones
like this, Tommy and Jackson had their work cut out for them.

	I toggled the little ruby eye on my belt. "T...One," I said, I was
always One.

	"One...T," came the answer, Tommy was on. "Lots of guys in the
market, some leaving on a bus headed your way. Still hard to spot the
opposition team in all this clutter, approaching the objective in five
minutes...out."

	"T...roger," came back. When the bus passed they would see Bobby's
car on the side of the road with the hood up, looking like foolish tourists
was the name of the game. No one wanted a call back to town warning of
anything unusual approaching; it was a well used disguise in the
intelligence trades.

	Ricardo drove right up to this set of imposing iron bar gates and I
almost laughed. Mark would have an easy task taking them down if necessary,
I wasn't even sure they closed properly. But four men lounged around and
one of them stood forth to challenge us.

	Ricardo powered the window down and a breath of hot air invaded the
air conditioned car, I almost heard the guard sigh as the wash of cool air
flowed back at him.

	"This man would like to see the church," Ricardo said.

	"There is no mass until six," the man replied.

	"No, he wishes to view the art and speak with the holy Father...he
does not speak our language," Ricardo confided. "But he is very wealthy,
the church must benefit from his presence. It is our duty to God."

	The man nodded and went over to the gate post. He picked up a phone
and made a call. I scoped out the other guards, noticing several small arms
on belt holsters and one automatic rifle, an AK-47, probably a Cuban
knockoff by the looks of it. Damn Soviets had armed every insurgent force
with their version of an automatic rifle, fortunately ours was better.

	The man came back and nodded. "The priest will see you. I must
search the car and the passengers," He said with a shrug.

	Ricardo turned around and repeated the request in English, I nodded
and waited for him to get out and open my door...I had to hold on to the
image. The guard approached me and nodded, almost an apology, but he
frisked me and stood back. Ricardo underwent the same treatment and then
leaned in to pop the trunk. Once the car was searched we were told where to
park it outside the gate, no one drove in.

	We walked up the stone lined pathway towards the church. The guards
did not escort us so I had a chance to look around. A rectory sat off to
one side and what appeared to be battlements faced the sea. Several walking
patrols, still only a handful of men about.

	The rectory was of solid stone just like the church. But there were
several outbuildings of corrugated metal and I saw air conditioning units
along their walls. Bunkhouses or drug processing facilities, I knew it was
something like that. Something that required cool air for people to stand
being inside during the heat of the day, it was more than a storage shed.

	The wide steps of the church beckoned, drawing us in under the
arched front and stained glass windows. The bell tower and spires reached
up over our heads, great position for a guard but I saw no movement up
there. The massive doors to the church loomed and slowly one opened as we
approached. A priest in traditional black garb stepped out.

	"Gentlemen, welcome," he said in Spanish.

	"Gary Lewis," I said, replying in English. "Please to meet you." He
shook my hand and motioned us inside.

	The first thing that struck a visitor was the temperature; it was
fifteen degrees cooler in here. The second was the size of the church, it
was small...very deceptive since the outside seemed so large. But the
ceiling was vaulted high above and sunlight beamed down on the wall
paintings and statuary which lined the church.

	"You have come to see the art and here it is. This is the...." The
priest began in Spanish.

	"I am sorry, Padre, this man has no Spanish," Ricardo explained.

	The priest smiled, and continued in perfect English. "I am Father
Morales, the curator of this church. Now it is more a museum than anything
else. The art work is a priceless relic of our founder's times; the Spanish
brought us many gifts and built this church as a shrine for it."

	"Father, we have another reason for this visit," I said. "I am here
to see my son, he was the boy taken with Miguel Alvarez, the mayor's son."

	The priest stopped in his tracks and genuflected in front of a
statue, and when he arose the smile was gone. "I am not a part of that
business; it is most unfortunate that you do not come for the art." He
sighed, "I will take you to the Commander's office."

	He led us down a side passage and out through a door into the
breezeway beyond. The covered passageway led us towards the back of the
rectory building. There was a view over the wall here. The sea stretched
out in the distance, but I looked over the edge and down. There below us a
stone pier jutted out into the sea, and a large yacht was docked against
the seawall. Ignacio was here, I knew it.

	......13:23 hours

	There was a guard at the rectory door, but the man held it open as
we entered. The priest led us into a hallway and towards the front where
another man sat at a desk.

	"Commander," the priest said in Spanish. "This man comes to see his
son, the American boy Ignacio holds in the cells."

	"He comes to see..." the man began.

	"He does not speak our language; will you need me to interpret?"
The priest asked.

	"No." And he spoke in barely understandable English. "What is your
business here."

	"I have come to see my son, this is all an unfortunate mistake. I
am willing to pay for your inconvenience if that is necessary. Can you make
that decision, Commander?" I asked.

	"You come to ransom him?" The man laughed and spat on the
floor. And then in Spanish he called Jerry a little faggot. I tried not to
wince...so they knew...shit.

	"I must take him home, he returns to school in a week...to whom
must I speak?" I asked.

	The man got up from behind his desk and approached me, trying to
intimidate me with his considerable size. One slash with the edge of my
hand and I would have his neck broken, but I backed up, deferring to him
politely.

	"You have come on a fool's errand, the boy is worthless to us," He
said.

	"But he is valuable to me and my wife, I will pay your price for
his freedom," I said.

	"How do you know of this...who told you?" He asked.

	"I asked Miguel's father, he said it was none of my business, he
could not tell me. So I bought the information from his deputy and I am
here. May I see someone in charge, please?"

	Good, let them take it out on the deputy...he was a dead man
anyway.

	Tha Commander laughed again and looked up the staircase. I turned
and saw a young girl standing there, maybe all of twelve or thirteen, a
beautiful child.

	"Maria," A voice called from above and a tall slender man descended
the stairs; he put a hand on her shoulder and then looked down at
us. Ignacio Morales, I was sure.

	"Pedro, what is this disturbance?" Ignacio asked.

	"Excuse me, Boss," the Commander replied. "It is nothing."

	"Are you perhaps in charge of affairs here?" I asked.

	Ignacio smiled and patted the girl's bottom. "Run back and play,
Maria...that's a good girl."

	He turned back to me, the smile gone, and his countenance
stormy. "And of what affairs do you speak?" He asked.

	"I am Gary Lewis, my son Jerry seems to have been caught up in
something I am too smart to question, your business not mine. But I must
have him back, his school is looking for him and my wife is beside
herself. Have you sent a ransom demand?"

	Ignacio slowly descended the staircase and marched with a military
air across the space between us. His eyes never left mine and I quickly
removed my hat to show respect, a wry smile crept to his lips.

	"This was not about ransom, your son is the boyfriend to Eduardo's
little fairy child, do you know this?"

	"I...I had an idea. Look, his mother raises the boy. I am away on
business so much it is impossible for me to keep track of his every little
move...as for his sexual...." Ignacio held up his hand to stop me and I
sputtered to a halt.

	"It is your family's business just as this affair is mine. I have
no use for your son, he was there, he attempted to defend Eduardo's son and
he was taken...only slightly damaged, I assure you."

	"He's hurt," I gasped. I could earn an Emmy for my performance, but
my only real critic was this man and he would soon be dead. If he had
harmed Jerry I would...

	"The boy is fine, a few scratches, a broken wrist...that is
all. You have a spirited son; his sexuality is not of my concern. What kind
of ransom did you have in mind?" Ignacio asked.

	"If he's all right...a million...five million...but I must see him
now," I said.

	"Yes, I understand your concern. Five million would be most
adequate, and how would this be paid?"

	"I...I can't wire money to your accounts, my government would trace
it." I pretended to think for a moment and then smiled. "I could donate it
to the good Father here for his church museum."

	Ignacio laughed. "And he would appreciate every penny, I assure
you. This may be done, how soon?"

	"Oh...it's Friday, the banks close in four hours, I don't know. I
have to make a phone call and find out. What if it's Monday?"

	"Then you may come back for him then...but you may see him now."


	......13:30 hours

	My belt buckle vibrated twice. I gripped my belt and smiled, as if
what he had just said was fine. And then I felt the vibration twice
more. Tommy had arrived in town but our communication was broken down, that
was the agreed signal.

	Without radio contact I was lost, our coordination down the
drain. The button on my jeans was only good for close up work, this was bad
news. I followed Ignacio and the priest, with Ricardo trailing. Ignacio
looked over at him and told him to go back to the car and wait, I would be
out soon. He shrugged and gave a slight bow in my direction. The car was a
safe place for him since there was a spare pistol under the seat cushions.

	Ignacio led us back into the church and across the center, the
priest bent his knee and crossed himself as we passed before the altar, I
simply crossed myself and gave a slight bow. But I saw a look of surprise
on his face at my gesture, Ignacio had seen nothing. We proceeded to the
far corner and down a small spiral staircase built into an alcove; I could
feel the cool air rising up from below.

	We exited through an archway and a large vaulted room spread out
before us. Again there were more statues; tombs lined the walls with
massive carved figures in stone. I saw the main stairs descending from
behind the upstairs altar and got a glimpse of the iron door at the
back. Everything was as Ricardo had told me, so far so good...except that
the team couldn't hear me.

	A small hallway off to one side and another door. Ignacio opened a
porthole and looked into the room beyond, he gestured for me to look. There
was a wood table and one chair in this tiny room, maybe twelve feet
square. A bed sat against the wall under a barred window, one too small for
a person to escape. And there sat the boys, both of them staring up at the
port.

	Jerry's wrist was crudely bandaged, but Miguel looked fine. They
both looked tired and dispirited, I felt bad for them. Neither of them
should have been caught up in this crazy man's scheming. I turned to look
at Ignacio.

	"I must speak to him, explain what I am here to do...give him
hope," I said.

	"No...That is not a part of our deal."

	I glared at him. "Look, you are used to having your way...but so am
I. Damn...I don't even know your name."

	"Morales, Ignacio Morales...I am the boss here."

	"Yes...yes you are, but this is a church and these boys are in the
house of God. If you believe in the sacred relationship...the trust between
a father and son then, you will let me in there and I will speak with
him. He is hurt, he is in despair...I must give him hope and the knowledge
that I am here to rescue him."

	Ignacio seemed shocked, and quickly glanced at the priest. I didn't
know what their arrangement was, but I knew the priest was on my side in
this argument.

	"Fine...you may have time with him. I do not know what Eduardo will
do for his own son," Ignacio said.

	It was my turn to smile. "But I do," I said.

	"What? He had better not get foolish..." Ignacio began.

	"My driver overheard a conversation. Did you know that Eduardo's
brother is the military commander in this area...I think you may have a
large problem, sir. Why do you think I am here so soon? I must get Jerry
out of here before things get out of hand."

	Ignacio produced a key and unlocked the door, shoving me towards
the opening. I stepped in and heard the door lock.

	"I will come back for you...have no fear," Ignacio said and then he
was gone. The portal closed and I knew the priest would leave us alone for
now.

	"Gary," Miguel cried, and I put a finger to my lips.

	"Mr. Lewis, I am Jerry's father...remember?"

	Jerry looked up at me from the bed and I knew he was hurt worse
than Ignacio had revealed. "I think one of my ribs is broken, it hurts to
breathe," the boy said.

	"They have not listened to us, I pleaded for a doctor." Miguel
said.

	"Soon, I am here to ransom you, Jerry," I said. Again, holding my
finger to my lips. I swept my eyes around the room looking for it...it had
to be here. My eye detected a bolt in the lighting fixture that looked out
of place. I moved the chair over annd stood on it. I gazed up at the
fixture...sure enough, a microphone.

	I mimed someone listening and pointed at the fixture, both boys
nodded.

	"Ignacio seems to agree, Jerry...I pay and we can walk out of
here. I'm sorry Miguel you're not part of the deal. So how have you been,
are they feeding you?"

	"Yes, we get a meal every day," Miguel said. He looked puzzled as I
studied the door, continuing to make bland conversation.

	"Your mother will be so glad to see you, Jerry...she's terribly
worried." He slapped the good hand to his mouth and stifled a laugh.

	I checked the door frame for weakness, and found none. I stood on
the bed and checked the window, maybe a charge could be dropped in here to
take out the door, but how would I tell them to do that?
Shit...shit...shit, why was the communications down?

	"You are so good to rescue him," Miguel said, catching on to the
game.

	I mimed the three of us, guns shooting and us running away. I
pointed at myself and gave him six other fingers, and then I made a
muscle. He smiled and nodded, help was on the way.




	......13:30 hours, seventy-eight miles to the north in Puerto
Juarez.

	"Damn...damn...damn," Oliver screamed, throwing down his
headphones.

	Chris ran over from where he was making sandwiches on the kitchen
counter. "What?"

	"Listen to this," Oliver said. He turned the speakers on. A babble
of Spanish came over the frequency, a constant droning cadence of words and
numbers.

	"What is it, where's Gary?"

	"He's still out there, but this sounds like the Mexican Navy. Only
they would have the equipment to use this frequency. They're too
powerful...we can't communicate with Gary...and the team can't either. I
sent him the failure signal, I hope he gets it. "

	"FUCK," Chris screamed, causing Oliver to jump back.

	"Whoa boyo...Tommy has a cell phone."

	"What about the button? We don't know where Gary is... FUCK," he
yelled again. Chris paced around the room and stopped. "You said the button
works well over water...what five miles?"

	"Yeah, that's the range...Oh No, you aren't sailing this boat down
there, Tommy will..."

	"FUCK," Chris yelled again...and then they heard the knocking up on
deck.

	"Hello...Chris? Are you there?"

	Chris ran to the companionway ladder and scooted upwards. He was
back two minutes later with Eduardo in tow.

	"Oliver, this is Eduardo," Chris said. "The mayor...father of the
second hostage. We are moving the boat."

	"No buddy we can't...they expect us to be here when they get back,"
Oliver said.

	"So call Tommy, tell him we're gonna be a little closer that's
all. Eduardo is a sailor, he'll help too."

	"Uh...I don't know about this," Oliver said, but he picked up his
satellite phone.

	"What is the problem, Chris?" Eduardo asked.

	"We've lost communication with Gary, he's inside with Ignacio and
we can't hear what's happening. The others don't know either; the whole
thing is screwed up because your Navy is using the frequency." The boy was
out of breath for a moment, and Eduardo smiled.

	"I will assist you, my Miguel needs me and I must go with you."

	Oliver slapped the phone shut. "Jeez boyo, Tommy agrees with
you...how do we sail this thing?"

	"I know how, Gary taught me...taught all of us," he grinned.

	"Aye, aye...Captain, you wear the brass balls...we follow you,"
Eduardo said.


	......13:45 hours, Puerto Juarez.

	Eduardo cast off the lines to the dock as Chris fired up the diesel
engines. Oliver used a boat hook to push them away from the wooden dock and
they drifted. Slowly Chris engaged the transmission to the propeller shafts
as he had been taught and the boat began to move. Chris allowed the craft
to ease away from the dock and when they hit a hundred feet he pushed the
throttles in.

	The Brass Balls seemed to dig into the water as the bow came up and
the boat ran towards the open sea. But their top speed with the engine was
only seven knots, it was not enough. Chris looked back at the dock and
noted the movement of the pennant on the flag pole. There was a stiff
southerly breeze, it would be enough.

	Chris had them a mile off shore when he throttled back. "Let's go
sailing," he yelled with a laugh, and Eduardo laughed along with him.

	They pulled on lines and the little jib sail was quickly set; Chris
pushed the boom towards the starboard side. He rushed to the wheel and tied
it off. Then he and Eduardo cranked up the mainsail which immediately
billowed starboard with its little buddy in front. They were a dozen points
off course by the time Chris took back over the wheel and he smiled.

	"Better hang on, we got a good breeze blowin," he yelled, and he
cranked the wheel over.

	The Brass Balls seemed to leap out of the water, healing over to
starboard as the sail caught the wind. They began to pick up speed and were
soon running parallel to the coast. Oliver grinned as Eduardo fed out more
line, allowing the boom to swing out. And suddenly their speed made them
feel like they were flying.

	They all whooped with glee but Chris told Eduardo to tighten up, he
had never driven the boat this hard before. They settled in at close to
twenty knots, a respectable speed. Chris set the navigation program to the
GPS coordinates and studied the chart that came up on the screen.

	The radar showed only a few boats within five miles as they drifted
out towards the five mile limit. He pushed the warning alarm and sat
back. Oliver nodded and went back to the radio. Eduardo sat beside the boy.

	"Your father taught you well, Chris...he would be very proud of
this moment. I certainly am," Eduardo said.

	Chris bit his lip and then turned, staring onto Eduardo's
eyes. "But you are not really proud of your son...why?"

	It was Eduardo's turn to gaze down at his lap. "He is...he is less
than a man in my eyes. I know about him and his friends...I know what he
has done."

	"And what is that, Eduardo? What are you so ashamed to tell me?"

	"My son is...homosexual, did you know that he and your brother...."

	"Oh cut the crap," Chris said. "I'm gay, Gary is gay...we're all
gay, well not the soldiers...but who cares? This isn't about sex; this is
about rescuing three people I love...and one I can't live without."

	"You...you and Gary?"

	"Yes...I'm his lover...his partner for life. I'm so glad we decided
that while I was still young, you have no idea how much confidence that
gives me to say...Fuck you, Eduardo. Now either you get over it and accept
who we are or get the hell off my boat."

	Chris grinned at the shock on Eduardo's face, but then the man
smiled....and then laughed. "Yes, Gary has chosen well." He sighed. "It is
a hard life, my friend...here it is so dangerous to be known...I fear for
Miguel, do you understand this? My father's heart is so concerned that he
will come to shame or get hurt by this...this feeling he has..."

	"Yes, Eduardo...I understand your concern. Miguel is a smart boy
and I believe that is why he wants to leave here so he can be himself. He
can't face telling you...you have to tell him you know. And you have to
accept him as he is...as we all are."

	Eduardo looked out at the coastline. "My country is full of foolish
men, but I have been just one of them until now. You are my captain and I
must obey your orders. Yes, he must go north to your country and be with
the man he chooses, I see this. I must fight for my son today and speak
with him tomorrow. Today will decide if I succeed tomorrow."

	"You will succeed," Chris said. "We will win our battle today, I
know it."

	"We will find out soon, in just a short while we will be there,"
Eduardo said.

	"Just in time to defend ourselves I bet. Things might get hot down
there, we may have to lend a hand," Chris said. "Go tell Oliver it's time
to lock and load."

	Eduardo went down the companionway ladder and thirty seconds later
Oliver popped back up. "You mean...oh freakin hell...you're probably right,
I'll load 'em up anyways."

	Chris grinned; yes...he was the Captain of the Brass Balls.


	......14:00 hours (two o'clock, civilians)

	Tommy stood outside the cantina watching the men on the
street. Many of them looked like they did on the unemployment line in
Newark or Detroit. Jobs were scarce here; maybe that's why Morales hired
them as thugs. But they weren't professionals, not by long stretch of
anyone's imagination.

	He and Jackson had walked through the town, pausing at the gate to
the church grounds and pointing up at the spires. Tommy took a photo with
his digital camera on full telephoto, but even now he saw no watchers up
there. Stupid, you always manned the high ground.

	But Bobby was probably in back near that cemetery by now and no one
could look down on him. The call from Oliver had been a shock, but he had
agreed with the boy's intentions. They needed communications back up and
running; at least they needed to hear what was being said...Gary could
adlib his situation.

	Lord, he must be proud of that boy. A valiant warrior at such a
tender age, he had to respect that. Maybe the rest he didn't want to think
about too hard, he just couldn't understand that kind of feeling. A boy and
a man...together...like that?

	But he was well read, he knew about ancient Greece and the
relationships...Alexander the Great too. It didn't mean that Gary was any
less a warrior; he just loved what he did...that's all. And it was so
obvious that the boy was totally his...the eyes said it and Tommy believed
in eyes. Including the ones that followed Jackson as he returned to his
seat.

	"You see the lady watching me, huh...you do don't you, some of us
got it," Jackson said, his face split with a grin.

	"And some of us is gonna slam a boot between your legs to chill you
out, brother. Calm down, she probably has all the STD's anyways...or did
you sleep through that lecture in boot camp as well?"

	"Fuck, you're probably right, good lookin out for me."

	"See anything?" Tommy asked, sipping on his bottled fruit drink. It
would probably give him the shits tomorrow, but he couldn't afford to drink
the local beer...it was too damn hot.

	"Nothin to see...what the hell is goin on?" Jackson asked.

	"Bunch of guys went runnin up to the church a few minutes
ago. Looks like some kind of muster, and we know that can't be good. Oliver
won't be in range for uh...damn, over an hour at least, 15:00 hours. We
can't continue to sit here that long...looks too suspicious."

	"I could eat, but its too hot for that, even they aren't eating,"
Jackson said, nodding towards the citizens who slowly walked in the shade
wherever they could.

	"Yeah, I'm waiting for Clint Eastwood to come riding in on his old
paint horse and glare at us...we better move on somewhere, lets go to the
beach," Tommy said..

	"Yeah, we can play some football with Nate and Mark."

	"Yeah...now think about what you just said, dummy. I don't want to
play with that ball you gave him ever again...you catch my drift?" Tommy
laughed. "Blow your frickin head off."

	They wandered down to the beach to look at the water and take some
more photos. They ran into Nate and Mark sitting in the shade of an
umbrella eating ice cream.

	"Howdy gents," Nate said. "Just down for the sights?"

	"Yeah, the town is heating up...sure wish I knew what Gary was
doing?" Tommy said.

	"Probably rubbing elbows with Ignacio, drinkin wine and having a
cigar," Mark laughed.

	"I bet it's a lot grimmer than that," Tommy said.


	......14:30 hours

	Gary had torn the bed sheet up and wrapped Jerry's ribs with it, at
least the boy could breathe without too much pain. Ignacio had not come
back yet, Gary wondered if he ever would.

	The team was scattered around town by now and every once and a
while he said something that might get picked up by the button on his
jeans, something that might give them a clue as to what was going on...if
it worked. But he was mindful of the microphone over their heads.

	No wonder Ignacio and the guards knew the boys were gay, their
conversation had been overheard...and as lovers they'd probably said too
much. But Ignacio wasn't really a moral person, that young girl had
probably been his lover. What a complicated web of bullshit.

	They sat in silence on the bed, knowing they could say
little. Outside Bobby was probably hidden in the surrounding cover, his
eyes on that back door. But the microphone in the light fixture would pick
up the blast if he blew the door, guards would come...what a mess.

	So they sat, listening for sounds...sounds that never happened. No
one was approaching; no one was coming to let him out. If Ignacio came
alone or with the priest he would take the self proclaimed boss down with
his bare hands. Ignacio had been foolish to come down here without an
escort the first time. But the priest would find himself in this cell as
they made for that back door. The door seemed like the best means of
escape, but then what?

	Gary could not see trekking through the undergrowth with Jerry in
such a sad condition, it would take too long. But he smiled remembering the
look he'd seen on Ignacio's face when he mentioned the military
commander. No wonder they had been left alone so long, they were probably
checking things out.


	......15:00 hours (3:00pm)

	Tommy now sat in the shade with the others. He'd walked up the
beach and around the corner of the stone seawall. The yacht sat like a tank
against the stone jetty, and there were guards standing at the access
point.

	Something was up, he could feel it. The men looked agitated, alert
despite the heat of the afternoon. He watched as four men carried a long
box down the jetty to the boat. That box looked familiar, he'd seen one
before. Bobby would recognize it in a flash, and then it hit him. Rockets,
those were shoulder fired missiles...Stingers. Damn, they were bringing out
the heavy artillery. Were they expecting an attack?

	He went back to the umbrella and spread the news. "I bet Gary has
them worried about something. We didn't create it but the diversion has
begun," Tommy said.

	"Damn, and all I brought was a football," Mark said.

	"Do I get to throw it?" Jackson asked.

	"How far can you throw...better, how accurate are you?" Mark asked.

	"We had this play in college...a flea-flicker pass from the
quarterback and then I would run to the sidelines and heave the ball
towards the end zone...maybe sixty yards or so to be fairly accurate,"
Jackson said.

	"Oh God...a Hail Mary pass," Nate said.

	"Well, we won a few games with that," Jackson said.

	"Better than I can do, guys," Mark said. "OK, it's your ball. But I
keep the detonation button in my hands...it's all in the timing."

	Jackson grinned.  "You got it, when do we go?"

	"When the time is right," Tommy said, "I'll let you know."


	......15:30 hours

	Chris watched as the outline of Cozumel Island appeared on the
radar scope. The GPS showed him where Playa del Carmen was, that little
flashing dot on the navigation screen. It was still too far for a visual
sighting, but he remembered that Gary had talked about the church being the
landmark.

	Eduardo was in the bow with the binoculars, sweeping the
coastline. He'd been here before by sea and assured them that he knew what
to look for. Gary had also mentioned an armed yacht of some kind, that
couldn't be good. The Brass Balls was a wood and fiberglass boat, their
only defense was a coat of paint.

	"Oliver...bring that Uzi up here," Chris yelled.

	A moment later the man appeared with the small machine gun in his
hands. "Is something happening?" He asked.

	"No, just show me how to fire it, Gary says it has a small
kick...what's that mean?"

	"It means you point it at what you want to shoot and it won't track
off the target so much like other guns." Oliver looked around and
grinned. "Easiest way to find out it to use it. We sure have lots of ammo."

	He checked the safety before handing the weapon to Chris. The boy
smiled, the gun felt good in his hands...powerful. The magazine stuck out
almost further than the gun was long and Chris noticed it appeared to be
two magazines taped together...he asked.

	"Yeah, only thirty rounds, a few squirts on full auto," Oliver
said. "But you push that button and the spent magazine pops out, turn it
around and you have another full magazine to use. Push it in until you hear
the click and you're reloaded. That is the safety, please leave it on at
all times unless you plan to fire...OK?"

	"And the range?" Chris asked.

	"You ain't gonna hit anything accurately beyond fifty yards with
that thing, you don't have the experience. It's a close up weapon, but it
will scare the hell out of people when you cut loose."

	Chris turned the Uzi towards the stern, pointing it out over the
empty sea behind them. He toggled the safety and slid a finger into the
trigger guard...then he squeezed.

	The noise was instantaneous, like a ripping sound as the bullets
flew out of the short barrel. Chris saw the water behind them froth as the
bullets hit. Then there was a clicking sound, the gun was empty. He quickly
hit the button and the magazine popped out in his hand. He turned it around
and pushed inwards until he heard a click, he pulled the trigger again,
only this time he let go right away.

	The Uzi spit out a few bullets and stopped, he pulled again, the
same results. He liked the way it felt, so he squeezed off short bursts
until the gun clicked empty. Then he looked up at Oliver's astonished face.

	"Cool, think I got it now," Chris said.

	"Damn, boyo...killer," Oliver said.

	The radar alarm went off and Chris looked down at the screen. "Five
miles, Oliver...will it work?"

	"Let's find out," the man grinned.

	Chris looked at the clock, they were early. He remembered something
about drift and smiled. They had been sailing south with the prevailing
current, no wonder his timing was off. He turned the wheel to take them in
closer to the coastline and hit the path button on the navigation system. A
red line showed up on the screen and he turned the wheel until the line
crossed over the GPS marker, they were pointed straight at Gary.

	"I got him," Oliver whooped, "but it's faint.

	Chris called towards the bow. "Eduardo, what do you see?"

	The man came hustling back to the cockpit. "I can see the spires of
the church, we are closing."

	"Then stay at the wheel for a bit, I need to see what Oliver has
discovered. I'm not sure it would be good to just go charging in there, do
you?" Chris asked.

	"No, my Captain," Eduardo said as he took the wheel. "We must
discover what is happening first."

	Chris went below and saw Oliver pulling out a small black box from
his case. The man grinned. "Been saving this for an emergency, the Mexican
Navy isn't gonna like it I'm afraid, but we're in range now and I want that
frequency cleared.

	He plugged the box onto the back of the radio and smiled as he
fingered the button on the side. "Lots of radio operators just went deaf
I'm afraid...hope they got good medical benefits."

	And then over the speakers Chris heard Gary's voice loud and clear,
but he sounded very tired. "Jerry, how's that hand, we need to get you a
better bandage."

	Oliver tapped the pager control button twice and waited. The change
in Gary's voice was immediate as his belt buckle vibrated twice.

	"Good, seems we're back together once again," Gary said. "Recap."

	And then he started this monologue which explained
everything. "Jerry, how long do you think they will keep us here in this
cell under the church? I mean Ignacio hasn't been back for over an hour. Do
you think that comment I made about the military swooping in on him has
made him nervous? Do you think he's abandoning his position here?

	"I sure hope not, we'll be getting hungry soon, I hope the priest
brings us dinner at least. It better be him because I sure didn't see any
guards standing around in the church, they all seemed to be over in the
rectory...but that's probably where the kitchen is anyway.

	"Poor Ricardo, just sitting outside the gates in the car wondering
what's happening. I hope he's all right. Hey, did you see that big fancy
yacht when you first got here? I bet that's Ignacio's private palace
sitting out back on the jetty."

	Miguel was starting to look anxious and Gary held a finger to his
lips. "Did you guys ever meet my friend Bobby? He's a real sapper, always
sneaking in my back door when no one was looking. He'd walk straight
through my house, turn left down my hallway and sneak into my bedroom when
I wasn't expecting him. Of course he'd kick the door down, blasting the
lock off and scare the hell out of me. What a joker."

	And Oliver whooped. "That's the signal, joker was the go word." He
turned on the side band and called out. "Bobby did you get that?"

	"B...roger," came back. "In five."

	Oliver smiled; Bobby must be damn close to that back door.

	"What's going on?" Chris asked.

	"Gary told us where he was, in the basement of the church, across
the main room and down a hallway. Bobby will blow the back door and go open
whatever cell Gary is trapped in."

	"And the noise will alert the guards, right...how will they get
out?" Chris asked.

	"I...I don't know," Oliver said. He turned back to the
radio. "T...you copy?"

	"T...copy."

	"T, we're four miles from your position...is it the beach or the
road? Over."

	"Christ, stay away from the beach, O...do you copy? They have
Stingers on that damn yacht."

	Oliver immediately turned pale. "Oh shit, they have shoulder fired
missiles on that damn yacht. Uh...we better stay way away from there,
Chris. One of those and we're toast."

	"But how are they gonna escape, wasn't Mark gonna take out that
boat?"

	"Yeah, right," Oliver said. "T...copy?"

	"T...over."

	"No football today?" Oliver asked.

	"Too much interference on the front line for the moment and we
can't get a clear pass play going...and now we have company coming down the
beach. We're all bunched up here, got to move along. Stay away, we might
need you so don't go too far...T out."

	Nate hefted the golf bag he'd been carrying all afternoon. Every
once and a while he'd pulled out a five iron and hit a few balls out into
the sea, just a short pop. He figured it would just be written off as some
crazy tourist thing. But now he reached in the bag and slid his hand around
the stock of the shotgun.

	Down the beach came a dozen armed men, pushing people out of their
way and heading right for the jetty. They too were carrying a box, but this
one was different, it seemed heavy.

	"I smell money," Nate said.

	"Uh, oh...I bet they emptied the bank," Tommy said. "Shit, they're
runnin out...you heard what Gary said, they think the military is on the
way."

	Tommy turned away from the approaching men and toggled his
radio. "B...how long?"

	"B...all set, gonna go any second."

	"T...well we got company and when you go they'll be all kinds of
upset. Too many arms down here on the beach, we have to shift towards the
town or get caught in the cross fire. I figure you'll have only a few
minutes after the bang before you get some company coming your way."

	"B...roger that, a quickie."

	"T...no doubt."

	"One...you copy?"

	"Thank God....T...I copy, One."

	"B...stop the penetration, hold on...someone is coming for
us. One...out."

	Tommy sighed, but not for long. The approaching men brought their
guns up to the ready position...shit was about to go down. Nate overturned
a stone bench and whipped out his shotgun. Mark suddenly had an M-16 in his
hands and Jackson pulled out his first pistol.

	The armed group hesitated and that was their mistake. Nate started
booming off rounds, taking out half the front men with his first three
blasts. Mark was more selective, he took out the leader and two of the guys
carrying the box. The heavy object fell to the sand, striking a rock and
bursting open. The glint of yellow metal spilled out on the sand.

	"Gold, I knew it," Nate whooped. And then the bullets began to rain
down on them from above.

	Gary heard the gunfight begin just as the lock slid back on the
cell door. He expected to see Ignacio's face or that of an armed guard, but
instead it was Father Morales.

	"Come...you must come quickly before the guard arrives,"" he said.

	Gary and Miguel grasped Jerry's arms and pulled him up. Jerry
winced and let out a gasp of pain, but he began to walk. They paused at the
door.

	"Where, Father?" Gary asked.

	"There is no time; I must get you out. I cannot allow this holy
place to become a battleground. I will open the back door, you may escape
that way. Please, do not damage my church," The priest begged.

	They walked up the hallway to the increased sound of gunfire from
above and outside. The priest led them towards the grand staircase and then
around behind it to the metal door.

	"Go to the trees, my son," He said. "Ignacio will come soon to take
the boys away; you will not survive his anger. This has all been a trick,
hasn't it? But he is scared...they run away and leave me alone once again."

	The priest fished out a key and unlocked the door, pulling it
inwards with a loud squeal. The sound of gunfire was louder now, off to the
left towards the beach. Miguel and Jerry stepped out and stopped.

	"Afternoon, gents," Bobby said from his position against the
wall. "Don't step out too far; there are a few bad guys up there shooting
at us." He pointed up and to the left at the overhead battlement beyond the
church walls.

	Gary reached for Bobby's back pack and retrieved his Taurus
pistols. "Where do we go now?"

	"Trees are too far, beach is closer, but the main fight is down
there...and so is that damn yacht," Bobby said. And immediately they heard
the sound of a heavy machine gun open fire. "Yup, figured they had heavy
weapons...fifty caliber sounds like."

	Gary shook his head; this was getting out of hand. He reached for
his belt."T...One,do you copy?"

	"Yeah...T...roger...a little busy here."

	"We're trapped behind the church, snipers overhead."

	"So big deal, they got a fifty working the walls...I'm staying low
for now. They moved that yacht off the pier, it's a floating battery."

	Gary could hear the machine gun and knew it was trained on his
men. Time to take charge. He turned to the priest standing in the doorway.

	"Father, you have the only key to this door?"

	"Yes, the guards do not have one."

	"Then go back inside and lock it, hide your key...but this door
must remain closed so they can't get to us from behind," Gary said.

	"But..."

	"No...do it, we won't be coming back this way," Gary said. "And
thank you, you are a good man for setting us free."

	"I am God's man...only He tells me what to do," the priest
said. "Go with God, my son."

	The priest went back inside and the door closed with another
squeal, and then Gary heard the lock snap shut. Bobby shook his head. "That
might have been the only way out of this," He said.

	"No, we go on...to the beach," Gary said.

	He stepped out from the wall and a few bullets flew down towards
him. Gary tapped out a few replies with his Taurus and heard a
scream. "They won't be so accurate after that...come on."

	They clung to the wall, the fire from above reached out to the
ground yards away. The guys overhead weren't even looking down
anymore. Gary kept an eye on the battlement as it curved beyond the church
walls. Soon they would be able to see the beach and the jetty.

	"T...One...copy"

	"One...T, go ahead."

	"The boat is coming back to the jetty; they gave up firing at our
position. We have solid cover here, but now I expect a banzai charge or
some such shit. You out?"

	"One...yeah, just coming around the wall towards the beach...should
see the yacht soon."

	"Heads up then...your boy is sitting about a half mile offshore in
your boat...I told him to stay away because of those Stingers...but he's in
range if they want him."

	Oh Lord, don't do anything foolish Chris. "Who's got the football?"
Gary asked.

	"Jackson...he says a Hail Mary will work."

	"Christ...we get one shot at that. Can you get up on the
battlement?"

	"Uh...maybe. We shot most of those guys already...resistance is
futile," Tommy laughed.

	Gary smiled, Tommy was on a roll. "T...take the high ground, you'll
have a shorter pass from there and good cover for the aftermath."

	"Gotcha...the big bang...roger, T out."

	Gary crouched low and slid to the ground. He could see the ocean
and the beach now. He slithered forward and almost gasped, the damn jetty
was right there...maybe fifty yards away. It seemed like half of Ignacio's
thugs were out there now getting ready to escape by boat.

	There were men all over the place, but they were in position to
defend against Tommy on the far side. Gary looked up and saw the battlement
by the rear of the rectory. It would be a long pass, but Jackson could do
it. And then he saw the girl.

	Damn Ignacio, what was she doing there? The girl was standing
behind the forward cabin, a safe place where the bullets from shore
couldn't reach her. She was wearing an orange life vest, but she would get
killed when the football went off...they all would.

	"T...One."

	"Go One."

	"Hold the pass for my signal; do not pass without my command."

	"T...roger."

	Christ...what was he gonna do now? Gary's eye followed the outline
of the boat towards the bow and looked at the mooring lines. One of them in
front dangled in the water, the boat wasn't really secured to the pier
anymore, just at the stern. He could climb that rope and...and what? Throw
her overboard? What if she couldn't swim?

	Bobby and the boys were standing several yards back and couldn't
see any of this, he didn't want them to. And then his eyes focused out
beyond the yacht and there was the Brass Balls under full sail. He could
make out the small figure at the helm and then the boat began a turn,
tacking away from the shoreline. Good boy, get the hell out of here.

	OK, go for the girl and get shot along the way. It was at least
fifty feet to the water from where he lay. Another hundred by water to the
rope and then a climb. What if the girl screamed, what if Ignacio heard
her?

	Gary took off his boots and belt, dropping his pistols he began to
take off his shirt.

	"What are you doing?" Bobby yelled.

	"Going for a swim...what's it look like? Gary replied.

	Bobby eased up closer and saw the yacht. "Oh no, not the boat...are
you crazy?"

	"Certifiable."

	But suddenly the firefight took on a new dimension. Tommy must have
reached the battlement because the men on the boat turned their way. Gary
watched the girl scoot around to the bow of the boat and crouch down behind
the anchor winch. She was at the very front now, nowhere else to hide.

	From the chatter of the guns up top, Tommy and the boys must be
raining hell on the jetty.  Gary saw men fall and a lot of them ran inside
the boat's lower deck for cover. Suddenly there was a shout from overhead.

	"You gonna stand there all day or what? Let's waste the bastards,"
Tommy yelled down.

	Someone was at the controls of the yacht and they must have
forgotten they were tied off at the stern. The boat lurched forward and the
rope became taught. A bunch of men scrambling aboard fell over and Gary
looked at the bow. The girl had tumbled towards the railing and was holding
on for dear life with only one hand.

	Gary watched in horror as the poor kid lost her grip, she plunged
almost twenty feet to the water. He didn't think, he just ran. The sprint
across to the water's edge wasn't witnessed from the jetty, but once he got
wet he saw some bullets fly his way. He heard Bobby's Uzi let off a
staccato burst of fire, raking the exposed side of the yacht.

	Tommy could see him now and the battlement opened up with a hail of
bullets. Someone on the yacht returned fire with the fifty caliber mounted
on the upper level beside the flying bridge. But Mark snapped off shots
with his M-16 and soon there was no one to stand behind the big gun.

	A man ran out with an axe and cut the mooring line, he went down
but the rope parted. Gary had just swum around the end of the jetty when
the yacht suddenly lurched past him, the bow wave pushing him back hard
against the stone. But he saw a flash of orange right in front of him and
he lunged for it, grasping the vest and the girl in it.

	The yacht passed before him, the sides coming awfully close to
scraping the pier and thus Gary and the girl in his arms. He let the wave
carry him towards the end of the pier and he ducked around front, pulling
her along with him. He rounded the other side and hid a few yards along,
out of sight...out of range.

	He looked up at the battlement and saw Tommy there with Jackson
beside him. Now... Gary raised his arm and threw an imaginary pass. He
watched Tommy yell. Jackson pulled his arm back and Gary saw the ball fly.

	He pulled the girl along the wall, putting as much distance as he
could between them and the yacht. His mind had been counting and when he
reached ten he pulled the girl close and pushed up against the stones of
the jetty.

	The blast was the loudest thing he'd ever heard and even the stones
behind him seemed to jump in their foundation. The pressure wave underwater
slammed them against the jetty, knocking the breath out of Gary's
lungs. His ears rang and he gasped, but his arms responded and he held on
to the girl with all his might.

	It was a good thing they were close to the jetty because all kinds
of debris began to rain down, much of it on fire. Gary pulled the girl
along as a pall of smoke drifted across them and now he coughed as
well. But he felt the sand under his toes and suddenly remembered he was in
his stocking feet.

	He dug in and almost ran from the water towards the sand at the
base of the jetty. He lay the girl down on the beach and ripped off the
life vest, she wasn't breathing. He grasped her head and used his mouth to
fill her lungs. Once, twice...three times, he breathed life into her. And
she coughed, gasping for air.

	Gary turned her on her side and she vomited sea water, continuing
to cough...but she was alive. He heard the sound of running footsteps and
realized he was unarmed, but then a familiar face peered down at him.

	"You OK?" Tommy yelled, but all Gary heard was the ringing in his
ears from the blast.

	He tapped an ear and shook his head, the ringing continued. Jackson
leaned down and scooped up the girl like she was nothing. Tommy and Nate
helped Gary to his feet, and for the first time he saw the damage.

	Stones had been flung from the jetty's walls and flaming wreckage
lay floating about on the oily waters. The area by the sea wall was
devastated, bodies seemed to be everywhere...but there was not a single
armed man in sight except for his team.

	"Ignacio?" Gary said, hearing his voice in his chest, his ears were
shot to hell.

	Tommy grinned and drew a hand across his throat. Gary grinned as
Jerry and Miguel walked up and hugged him. The men stood around and
suddenly Gary remembered...Chris. He turned to look out at the sea and saw
the most beautiful sight in his life.

	The Brass Balls was closing fast, all sails flying in Chris'
haste. But as the boat came within two hundred yards of the damaged pier
Gary could see Oliver and another man cranking at the winch as the sail
came down. Chris used the headway to glide towards a landing on the
undamaged side. Gary smiled as the boat barely kissed the pier, allowing
Oliver to leap off and tie up.

	And then in a flash, Chris was over the side, the Uzi hanging on a
strap around his neck.  And he ran, ran like the wind and leapt into Gary's
arms almost knocking the both of them over. And as Gary hugged his boy, he
looked over Chris' shoulder and saw Eduardo's smile.