Chapter 5

             Take care, lest an adventure is now offered you, which, if accepted, will plunge you in the deepest woe.

                J.M. Barrie

Brian mingled for as little time as he felt he could get away with. He carried an open bottle of Beam around with him and made liberal use of the contents. He had not taken pain meds before coming and was now wishing seven fiery hells on Everett and Lara for being right. He shouldn't have come. Ted was doing wonders, meandering through the guests and doing his best Charlie Chaplin impersonations, and Brian had to admit, Ted was pretty good. Snorting a laugh to himself, he swigged from the bottle, and froze, as he spied Cynthia for the first time since boarding over two hours ago.

She was beautiful. All the swimming she had been doing was paying off. She was long and lean and subtly muscled.

He smiled, the first genuine smile of the night, and held a hand out. She took it, but did not return the smile.

"You are stunning." Brian said against her ear.

"I am, and you shouldn't have." Tears began to well, "I know what it means to you." She touched the front of the dress reverently. Her gaze locked squarely on his face and his eyes were glistening as well.

He tried to play it off as a joke "Well it never fit me properly, it made my ass look big", his lips pulled in and he kissed her cheek, "I should have given it to you years ago". He whispered.

He straightened and tried not to lean on the cane, all business, "How are we?"

Cynthia was grateful to switch gears and did so without hesitation. "Every invitation was accepted, so we are at maximum guests. Not a single no-show."

Brian's brows shot up, "And?'

"So far working class is winning by about ten thousand dollars. It was a good call, by the way, getting more volunteers for the phones. The total as of fifteen minutes ago was almost a million dollars." She wore a big smirky grin, and Brian wrapped the arm holding the bottle around her shoulders. "That's already double last year's donations. And you didn't think I could pull it off."

"I didn't say that, I said I didn't think you would have the time to pull it off." She groused.

"Mmmm," He squeezed her briefly, "Go find that sexy stud of yours and have some fun."

"He is hardly mine, though I will admit he is sexy." She grinned "But, alas, he's doing rounds. He's checking the amphibious thingy, the safety boat."

"Ahh, well maybe you and Ted could give us all a little dance then." He nudged her in the direction of the dance floor.

She rolled her eyes, took the bottle from him, and sauntered away to schmooze more money from the party-goers.

Brian tapped his lips with an index finger as he watched her bare, swimmer's back disappear into the crowd and flagged an attendant for another bottle.

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It had not been hard to find someone hired to work the party, and Viktor had no regrets about sneaking into the man's shitty apartment and slitting his throat. He had thought, though, that getting on board would have been trickier, even though he had come in the man's costume and bearing his identification wristband. A small thrill had gone through his body when, the band was scanned, and he walked through the metal detector with no problems.

Getting the lay of the land, while impersonating a waiter, was a bit more difficult, as he was expected to perform his duties, so he watched, and mimicked, and waited for the right moment to present itself. He watched while Kinney talked with a blonde in a black dress as he moved around serving drinks. He had all night, after all, the ship would not return to the pier until ten in the morning, and he was sure his mark would give him the opportunity he needed to fulfill his contract of murder.

He fixed a fake smile on his face, tugged at the ill-fitted suit jacket he wore, and wove his way through the throngs of dancers to fetch more champagne for his tray.

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Michael was in an ecstatic frenzy because he won the most seen costume contest. Rage and JT won, hands -down. They had counted well over a hundred of each among the 3000 guests, and Debbie was grumbling because she had picked the Queen/Royalty group, and was defeated soundly.

It was nearing midnight, the live concert from the cruise ship was wrapping up, and there was more than one yawn hidden behind a hand.

"Deb, why don't you and Carl take the spare room?" Ben offered. "You said neither of you work tomorrow, so how 'bout you stay, and we'll have brunch in the morning."

"What a great idea, Ben, of course we'll stay, won't we Carl?" It really wasn't a question, and the look on Carl's face said that he knew it was useless to argue. Besides, he slept like the dead anyway. They said their goodnights and went upstairs.

Michael straddled Ben's lap the instant he heard the door close. "We're finally alone." He said between kisses, and Ben laughed softly as he gripped Michael's ass and moaned into his lips. Hands worked feverishly to shed pants and they were soon stroking each other's dicks and grinding pelvises. Ben flipped Michael underneath him on the couch and rolled on a condom one-handed while Michael stroked himself and wrapped his legs around Ben's sides. Michael moaned on the first thrust of entry and pulled his lover's head down for a forceful kiss, full of tongue, letting Ben know to hurry. Michael's hand pumped furiously on his own dick and Ben kept pace, slamming into Michel's ass until he felt his balls draw up and they ejaculated together, collapsing into a sticky heap. It was some time before their breathing returned to normal.

"Come to bed." Ben said as he stood and reached for his husband's hand.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna watch for a while, but you go ahead." Michael was still glowing over his win, and Ben figured he wanted to stay because it fed his ego to see his comic book characters on television.

"Okay, but don't fall asleep on the couch, you know how uncomfortable it is."

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Lindsay could feel a panic attack coming as she sent off another text to Brian, asking him to call her. It was the fourth in six hours. Melanie had come home with the kids and they had let the children stay up long enough to watch Brian's opening speech, and both of them had squealed in delight when he had done his little magic act. Gus had been in complete awe. He knew his Dad was cool and everything, but a magician? That just took the cake. He announced then and there, that he was going to be a magician too, and he was going to be just as good as his Dad as he waved an umbrella like Brian had waved his cane. Jenny laughed and tugged on Gus' hand until they were dancing around the living room. Both of them were exceedingly vocal when their Moms told them it was time for bed. It had been a meltdown to end all meltdowns. Crying, kicking, screaming, and eventually promises of magic shows had the kids finally in their own beds and Lindsay reaching for the paper bag.

Melanie watched her sit at the table, breathing into the lunch sack. Lindsay was texting at the same time, and Melanie assumed she was trying to get a hold of Brian again by the frustrated growl that Lindsay reserved just for him.

She smirked to herself, so he got the message. Silent treatment it is. Of course, Lindsay would eventually win the battle, and he would talk to her, but even if she did, Brian already had his answer.

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Everett was at the launch in the rear bowels of the ship, checking on the RHIB. It was stationed at the ready, with a three- man team of driver, security, and rescue diver. The inflatable boat was a no frills military grade vehicle, as was the Mark V special operations craft that was currently doing patrol around the cruise liner, keeping curious vessels at bay. The Coast Guard had taken stations further away, as they had their own duties, but were close enough to be a presence if necessary.

Everett used his radio to check in with his teams, and give the all clear for a change in rotation. He had decided on two hours shifts to keep everyone fresh and on their toes. He didn't think there would be any major issues, but after Brian's dustup and the trillions of dollars in net worth among the guests, he did not want to take any chances. Noah had said that overkill could have been his middle name.

Better safe than sorry, besides Marc is being just as paranoid as I am. Something is in the wind.

The Mark V pulled close and Everett oversaw the personnel change, sending the off duty men to grab some food and down time and reiterating the patrol pattern he wanted for the men climbing aboard the heavily armed fast attack boat. All of them were dedicated and seasoned professionals, and Everett was glad he could count on them to do their jobs to the best of their abilities.

Having accomplished what he came for, he set off for the ballroom, to try to get in a couple of dances with Cynthia. He hoped this would all go off without a hitch, and tomorrow he could spend some more time looking into the man on the motorcycle.

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"Teddy! You look absolutely adorable!" Emmett cooed while pinching Ted's cheek affectionately.

"Emmett! It's good to see you, I wasn't sure I would get a chance to return your calls. What brings you here tonight?" Ted hugged him as he chattered.

"Oh, you know, Brian needed someone to fill in," He tapered off, and his eyes clouded.

"Yeah, I heard about Justin, but you know how they are, they'll work it out." Ted smiled and looped his arm through Emmett's, steering him to the buffet tables. "Here have some crab cakes, they are delicious."

Emmett pulled his head back, avoiding the food Ted was trying to feed him and held up a hand, "No thanks, Teddy, I have to get these donations counted and into the safe before my pockets can't hold anymore, then start all over again." He gave Ted a soft smile.

Ted looked a little hurt that Emmett seemed to be brushing him off, "Come on, Em, I can find someone else to do that. You and I can catch up, dance, party, just like the old days. Then we'll go back to my stateroom and stay up all night gabbing about how hideous some of these costumes are."

Emmett gave a half roll of his eyes and tilted his head. "Honey, I have seen second rate drag queens look better than some of these people." He shuddered in mock dismay.

"That's the spirit, so how bout it?" Ted put more food on his plate as they wandered down the length of the table.

"Sorry, I promised Brian, and I don't want to disappoint him tonight." Emmett said.

"Suit yourself, I guess I will just have to find someone else. Maybe I'll grab one of the hundred or so JTs around and pretend I'm Brian for the rest of the night." Ted laughed at his own joke, and missed the stiffness of his friend's posture.

"Be careful what you wish for Teddy, it is not always what it seems on the surface."

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Tasha made circuitous rounds through the ballroom, lingering near the rich and famous having quiet conversations, so the recording device she had hidden in a medallion on her helmet could see and hear it all. She was especially careful to avoid the news cameras or anyone that might recognize her, though that was a long shot.

She had brow beat a younger newscaster out of her invitation, promising to help the poor woman's career, though never intending to do so. Charlie had fixed her up in a Roman Hoplite warrior costume and Delia had given her face a full treatment. She was androgenous. Her feminine features, now masked with makeup, and her hair covered in a very short dark wig under a helmet with a large plume and a nose plate that concealed part of her face. The breastplate for the costume was metal as was the helmet allowing her to hide the button camera and still make it past the security upon arrival. So far, no one paid her any attention, and she had managed to pick up a few interesting tidbits of conversation as she wandered around. Tidbits that she might be able to work into one of her shows, or even use to humiliate a future guest. Still, the one person she wanted to get on camera, had made himself scarce, and she came to the conclusion that she would have to be more aggressive in seeking him out. It was nearing one in the morning, but what she knew of Brian Kinney said he would just be getting into full swing at this time of the night, so she kept her eyes peeled for a glimpse of the elusive man, while a self-satisfied warmth filled her.

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Brian hated affairs like this. He knew why they were necessary, but he hated being a part of them. Public display, especially for television, left a sour taste in his mouth and a bitter burning in his gut. He felt like he was in a fish bowl, his every move analyzed, and it made his skin crawl. He could feel the grasping eyes of the viewers and the selfish glee of reporters as they asked their repetitive and inane questions, hoping to one up each other for an exclusive interview. He had been doing his best to avoid all manner of media for most of the party so far, and was congratulating himself on a job well done, with a bottle of Johnny Walker Gold Reserve, as he walked around the ship looking for a quiet place to park his ass in the fresh air. He was not ready to go to his room yet, probably never would since Justin wasn't there, but the ballroom and dining room were too stifling. Too loud, too colorful, too many JTs if he was honest with himself. He would catch one out of the corner of his eye and for a split second he would think Justin had come back, and the hurt would start all over again.

He had watched, briefly, as Everett had pulled Cynthia into a slow dance, and was grateful to see that she seemed to really like the man. Ryker was obviously besotted, a condition Brian could well and truly understand, and hoped for a moment, that they would work out. Cynthia needed someone strong and resilient, but not hard or demanding because of it. He hoped she recognized her good fortune before it was too late.

Brian found some empty lounge chairs on the main deck and lowered himself into one with a hiss of pain when his stitches protested. He leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle, drinking straight from the bottle. He held it up to the feeble light and glared at it, remembering that he had been drinking this same liquor on his aborted attempt at scarfing, and the night of Justin's prom.

Fuck, he couldn't even get wasted on a twelve hundred dollar bottle without thinking of Justin. The kid had woven his way through almost every memory Brian had for the last seven years. If it was not a memory of them together, it was a memory of how terrible it was without him. His gut churned with old feelings of anger and regret. His brain fuzzed with current feelings of helplessness and lack of control. It was overwhelming, the floods of emotion he could barely contain anymore. He found himself struggling on a sometimes minute to minute basis, for balance. His emotional equilibrium was teetering almost to the tipping point, and he wondered if it was even worth trying to maintain anymore. He was scared that he would become so unbalanced that he said or did something that would hurt someone he cared about. He was scared that if he had an outburst, he would say something that he would forever regret. He was scared that once that happened, he would never find himself again, and if he did, no one would want him. He was, for the second time in his adult life, scared.

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Justin got out of the bed for the fourth time since he talked to his mother. He knew something was wrong and he hoped it was not serious, because the more he laid in bed thinking about it the more sure he became that Brian's cancer had returned. That had been the last time that Brian had been so overt in tossing him out.

Granted, this time, he had been more subtle about it, but it had the fingerprints of Brian Kinney all over it. It made sense, that Brian would want to deal with it alone, it was his first instinct after all, and Justin certainly understood the reasoning. However, they were partners, and there was no way he was going to let the man he loved go through that again all by himself. He didn't last time, and no matter the prognosis, was not going to let him this time.

Jesus, what if it's really bad? What if there is nothing they can do? Is that why he pushed me away? So I wouldn't see him waste away, and...die?

What if he does...die? How will I get over that? He is everything to me. Everything.

He sat on the bed again and let the tears fall, certain he had read the situation correctly, and at a complete loss with the grief he was already feeling.

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Caryn stood by the door of the plane as a frazzled blonde woman made her way up the steps clutching her purse to her side. Once she was inside, she closed and sealed the door and let the pilot know they were free to take off.

Returning to the passenger area, Caryn noted that the woman sat primly on the edge of a seat, with her knees pressed together and her face a stony mask.

"My name is Caryn. Is there anything I can get for you once we take off?"

The blonde simply shook her head in the negative as the plane accelerated down the runway and lifted into the air. For a second, Caryn thought her passenger might toss her cookies at the sudden change in elevation, but gave her points for getting herself under control. Taking a moment to observe the prim cowl necked sweater and twill pants, Caryn pegged her as one of the country club set and wondered where on earth her boss would have come into contact with such a person.

Jennifer did her best to sit still and finally decided to have a drink, hoping to calm her nerves.

"May I have a drink please?" she requested of the attendant.

"I have not restocked yet, so all I have is water, Beam, and Walker." Caryn offered as she reached for the water.

"I, uh, fuck it, I'll take the Beam." Jennifer chuckled at the surprised look on Caryn's face. "Brian would be proud of me." She offered, by way of explanation, with a self-deprecating toss of her head.

Caryn handed her a short glass, raising her eyebrows. "You know Mr. Kinney?"

Jennifer sipped then rolled the glass between her palms, "Yes, as a matter of fact, he's my... uhm... son in law. I'm Jennifer Taylor, Justin's Mom."

Caryn mentally kicked herself for not seeing the resemblance sooner, and nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"Let me know if I can get you anything else." She made to stand and Jennifer clasped her hand.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't make arrangements for a rental when we land, is there any way to take care of that now?"

Caryn could feel the tinge of desperation in the hand on hers and hear it in the older woman's voice. Whatever prompted the woman to get on a plane in the middle of the night, with no luggage or coat, must be serious, so she simply nodded and went to make a few phone calls.

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Everett had just slipped his fingertips under the edge of fabric on Cynthia's back as he pulled her closer to him and waltzed her around the room. They flowed well together and looked nowhere but each other's eyes as the dance floor cleared and they were left alone. A world unto themselves, as they stepped and turned and twirled to the music. The attraction between them obvious to anyone with eyes, and the news cameras followed every move they made, broadcasting it to the masses at home. It wasn't until the music ended that either of them realized they had made quite a show, so they went with it, and bowed to the audience, under a round of applause.

The music once again turned upbeat, so Everett took her hand and pulled her outside, hoping the night air would cool his heated skin. Technically, he was on duty, but once outside he grasped her to him and set his mouth to hers in a searing display of wantonness.

She did not hesitate in returning the kiss. He tasted like fire, and need, and she had no desire to resist. His hand splayed in the small of her back sent shivers to her private parts and she opened her mouth to taste more of him. He groaned and stumbled back against the bulkhead and she followed, tugging at his belt, and shoving her hand down the front of his pants and grasping his already hard cock. She moaned into his mouth as she pressed herself to him and stroked him to an even more impressive erection. Everett turned his head as her lips made their way to his neck and he was glad there was no one around to see how desperate she made him. He had never in his life been oblivious to the things around him, but now, as he gripped the back of her neck and she stroked him even faster, their breaths turning to fog between them, his world narrowed, to her. Just her, and the fathomless depths of her eyes that hid so much. Her need to be in control of this encounter, the need to know that she could push him beyond reason and that he would let her. A glimpse, of how demanding she would be, and a double dare to accept her anyway. She grabbed his jaw with her free hand and pulled his lips back to hers. With his heart racing in his chest, he let himself go.

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Marc scanned the water around the Mark V and the liner, looking for any threat to the ship. He tuned out the chatter over the comms as he lowered the binoculars. All was clear and the last update from Everett confirmed it twenty minutes ago. They were running patrol in a counterclockwise circle around the cruise ship at fifteen knots. That made each circuit about thirty minutes. He had the command over three heavily armed men, the driver, and two reliefs. It should have made him comfortable, but like Everett, he felt himself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He just hoped it wouldn't be tonight. The guests themselves were a ripe plum for the picking. Any one of them would command a high ransom and a whole boat full of them would be very tempting for even the shyest of criminals. He had to put his faith in the two hundred personnel that he and Everett had hand picked for tonight's shindig. They were all seasoned veterans and knew their jobs, but every time Marc thought about that afternoon, how fast it had gone down, the hairs rose on his arms, and he scanned the waters again.

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Emmett was updating the digital display of donations, proud of himself and Brian as the total neared two million dollars. He was determined to make sure that it exceeded that amount before turning the job of collections over to someone Ted appointed. The crowd had thinned as some of the older guests retired to their rooms for the night. He took some time to give the staff appraising looks and thought he could not have planned the party better himself. For all of Brian's faults, he had superb taste and knowledge when it came to impressing guests.

Emmett was chatting up another possible donor when one of the waiters caught his attention. He looked okay, but something did not sit right. He nodded when he felt it was appropriate but had stopped listening to the group he was in, so he made his excuses when the he saw the waiter leave the dining room, and followed him.

He immediately lost him in the crowd of the kitchen as everyone in there was doing their best to keep up with the food demand and the dishes it inevitably created. He tried peering over heads, even going so far as to stand on a stool, and just barely managed to catch sight of a dark head, and unshaven face, disappear through the far door.

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Noah kept watch over Brian as he dozed in a lounge chair on the main deck with a bottle in the crook of his arm. He had been that way for over an hour. He had to admit, the man was hot when conscious, but there was something about him when he slept that made even a straight guy like himself wonder what it would be like to fuck him. Eight years in special forces brings you into contact with a lot of men, and where there are a lot of men, there are a lot of stories of sexual conquest. He had plenty of his own to share, though admittedly none with men. However, watching Brian sleep, made him wonder if maybe he was missing out. He laid there, completely relaxed, with his tie undone and his tails tossed over the arm of the lounger, shirt unbuttoned to the center of his chest....

"You wouldn't be the first straight guy I fucked because he was curious."

Noah almost jumped he was so startled. Brian had not even opened his eyes or changed his breathing.

"Fucking A man, you scared the shit out of me!" Noah laughed as he rubbed a hand over his pounding heart.

"As luck would have it, I'm free right now..." He swigged and ran a finger down his chest, giving Noah a look that said he would make it worth his wile.

Noah almost choked, his mouth went so dry he could not form a reply, so was exceedingly relieved when he saw Everett and Cynthia come towards them.

"Maybe later." Brian muttered.

Noah moved to stand by Everett as Cynthia sat on the side of the lounger with Brian and he huffed out a breath because he knew she came to retrieve him for some more glad-handing. He watched as Noah moved off and Everett retreated to a discreet distance.

"You just cock blocked me." Brian said as he panted his way to a sitting position next to her.

"Well, I'm sure you'll make up for it later. Right now, you need to come in and do some rounds. We just passed two million and the crowd is getting restless. They haven't seen you for hours and the reporters are running out of things to say." She patted his leg in sympathy.

Brian ran a hand over his face and settled it over his mouth as he tucked his head and nodded. Just the thought of talking into another microphone set off acid in his stomach and a clamoring in his brain. He hated it. He couldn't control it. He had to clench his teeth to keep from unleashing an unholy tirade on the one person that didn't deserve it and he hated himself for having those thoughts in the first place and the guilt that came with it.

"Give me a minute," every word was a fight for control.

She watched him struggle, wishing she could make it better, squeezed his thigh in comfort and kissed the side of his head. "Five minutes. I will get you out in five minutes, I promise. That will be the last time, and you can hide. Okay?"

He laid his hand over hers, nodding, and took a deep breath as she walked away.

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Jennifer thanked Caryn for her help as she nearly ran down the steps to the waiting car and jumped in, demanding to be taken to Brian. The car started moving as the driver spoke, "I can't do that Ms. Taylor. The Crown Princess is in open water and won't return until tomorrow morning."

Jennifer looked into chocolate eyes in the rearview mirror and put on her best mother bear persona.

"Listen to me, are you listening?" she asked haughtily. Lara grinned, she knew that line, and nodded.

"I understand that you have a job to do, and you are limited by that. So I will refrain from holding you responsible, if and only if, you get me on the phone with someone that can get me on that ship tonight. Do I make myself clear?"

Lara did not want this to escalate into hysterics, so did her best to keep her tone even, "Ma'am, you seem to be a little upset, and though I can appreciate that, nothing short of a helicopter is going to get you on board tonight".

Jennifer closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them, Lara realized she would not win this argument without trying. "I don't care if it takes an entire panzer division, you will find me someone that can get me on that boat tonight, or so help me, there will be hell to pay!"

"Okay, okay, I will see what I can do." Lara offered as she pulled out her phone.

Jennifer, seeing something was being done, settled back into her seat and fidgeted with the strap on her purse, while her mind travelled to Brian.

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Brian used the cane to stand and wobbled a few seconds before finding himself steady enough to walk. Each step was a study in focus and concentration as the anxiety built in his chest and a thick mucus filled his throat.

There was no way he would be able to talk inside, with all those people, and stifling stimuli. Just the thought had him leaning over the railing, puking. His hands shook violently and he dropped the cane, not caring when it rolled a few feet away. The retching continued for several minutes, even though his stomach was empty, and he leaned there, draped like a limp rag, over the railing, praying for someone to put him out of his misery.

Then he felt it. A presence he assumed was Cynthia come to fetch him, and he knew before the thought was finished that it was not her. He felt the malevolence in waves. He turned to confront it, just in time to miss the cane being swung at his head.

Instead, it landed with enough force on the upper part of his left arm, he heard a sickening crack, and felt the bone break. His attacker raised the cane again and Brian knew he would not be able to fend it off, so opted for offense. Holding his limp left arm in his right, he ducked his head and launched into the midsection of the man wielding the cane.

They hit the deck in a heap, with Brian on top, and he got a good look at the man. He was dressed as an attendant, but the shoulders didn't fit right, and Brian was hit with the illogical understanding that this man was an impostor. He had dark, close cut hair and brown eyes. He also needed a shave.

Not being able to use his arm left him nearly defenseless, but when his attacker attempted to raise himself, Brian head butted him, and had the satisfaction of hearing his head hit the wood beneath them. Brian rose and backed off, intending to call for help, and saw Cynthia step out of the corridor looking for him, behind the stranger.

He threw up his right arm quickly, to stop and silence her, and the movement sent pain searing across his ribs as he felt his stitches rip.

The man saw him pale and blood soak his shirt, took that moment to grab him around the middle with one arm and hook his other behind his knee and heft him towards the railing.

Cynthia made to shout and Brian shook his head. He did not want her injured, and drawing attention to herself would certainly accomplish that. He saw her anger, and her indecision. The world passed in slow motion as he gave her a smile that said it was okay to let him go, and he was oddly happy when she ducked back into the corridor.

Then he was weightless. Looking up into the face of the bad guy as it retreated further and further away. Just like buttered bread always lands butter side down, Brian hit the water broken arm first, and he felt the old injury to his collarbone snap once more. He tried kicking his legs, seemed to be making progress, until the pain took over.

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Everett had been watching the doorway Cynthia had used so he immediately saw her ashen face when she reappeared without Brian. Knowing something was wrong, he ran for the door, grabbing Emmett as he passed and started barking into the radio. Cynthia had instantly disappeared again, and as they hit the night air outside it was to see her leaning over the rail.

He called for the patrol boat and the RHIB to respond to their location and watched as Cynthia struggled to undo the clasp at the back of her waist. He was responding to Marc on the other end of the comms, when Emmett pulled out a pocketknife and cut the band of fabric at her waist. She wasted no time stripping off the dress and climbing, in nothing but her panties, onto the railing. Then she was gone.

Everett was speechless, unable to form any words, until a couple seconds passed and his training kicked in. Emmett was leaning over the railing trying to see what was going on in the water below as Everett hastily amended his orders and went running for the boat launch. He called the Coast Guard on his way, and prayed to whatever deity watched over fools, that this would not turn out to be the clusterfuck it appeared to be.

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