Title: Oreos, Whiskey and Rescues

Author: Heather F.

Rating: G/PG

warnings: ?able language. Grammar/spelling....etc...

Thanks: Mitzi...Hey Mitzi (big wave) , my sister’s nephew in law who called because he’s homesick in the Coast Guard and found himself fielding strange and unexplained questions...

E-mail¼feedback would be welcomed (well constructive stuff of course) flah7@smgazette.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somewhere off the West Coast.....

Waves lapped against the side of the life raft. The orange and red garishly colored life raft bobbed lazily up and over gentle swells. Brilliant blue sky marked the scenery as far as the eye could see. White wispy clouds mingled freely with the pillow like cumulous clouds. The sun blazed from above occasionally ducking behind a cloud only to reappear shortly afterward.

The two occupants of the raft sat at either end. As for discerning the bow from the stern, well these two ‘sailors’ did not truly care which was which. Port still sat to someone’s left and Starboard to someone’s right. If one was to ask the residents of this small floating craft another disagreement would sure to erupt.

The blue friendly skies above, the calm greenish blue waters surrounding them did not match the fiery disposition of the rafts captives.

Both men avoided eye contact.

Neither one had two eyes that opened anyhow.

Both had split lips, both sported abraded knuckles. Cheeks carried knotted bruises. Both men smelled of diesel and smoke.

They had barely escaped the burning yacht with their lives. They had yet to survive each other’s company.

Vin Tanner glared out at the expansive ocean before him. He squinted one blue eye trying hard not to irritate his left eye. Damn Southerner packed a hell of a punch. Son of a Bitch. The tracker could find no trace of land. California...Hawaiians...or Japanese....

Ezra Standish laid belly down on the side of the raft letting his hand drag in the water. Judging from the increasing size of the swells a storm had to be hitting some islands perhaps the Hawaiian or the Japanese territories. He rested his uninjured cheek against the side of the raft. The skin stuck to the rubber surface. It stretched and pulled with the lazy bobbing of their small water craft. Standish rubbed at the back of his head with his other hand. The goose egg back there seemed to have doubled in size.

Gawd Damn Texan.

The sun slowly crawled across the sky. No seagulls or sea faring birds squalled or cried. No fish flittered just under the water’s surface. The monotonous sound of water constantly lapping against the side of the raft fill the area.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris Larabee leaned against the railing of the Coast Guard Cutter. Buck and JD stood aft while Josiah sat at the bow. Nathan disappeared down at the medic station trying to debrief the on board medic on what to expect. Chris chuckled half heartedly. If this captain understood what he hoped to find...then he would probably just turn the boat around.

How those two managed to get taken out on a yacht under the guise of gun traders and managed to some how destroy the boat, her crew and lose themselves on the ocean, Larabee couldn’t guess.

What was it with those two? Hell all he had to do was throw JD and Buck into the mix and the four combined would bring the moon crashing from its orbit.

What was it with his team?

Larabee leaned on the rail and rested his head in his hand.

“Here Sir, The Captain thought you could use some,” A young ensign held a steaming cup of coffee out to the despondent ATF leader.

Chris curled the corner of his lip in a half hearted attempt of a smile.

The young Ensign quickly backed away emptied handed.

Smile must not have worked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tanner rubbed his belly absently. It rumbled again. He shifted position and felt lukewarm water pool around his ankles. His feet were pruned and started to peel with in the confines of his soft leather dock shoes. His shirt, still in one piece, held the scars of barely escaping a fire at sea. Char marks and soot covered his once pristine white tee-shirt. His long hair clung to his head in greasy strands.

The Texan inched forward and once again rummaged through their ‘Survival gear’. He angrily brushed past the Malt Whiskey with a curse all the while throwing the Southerner a caustic glare.

‘Who the hell includes Scotch in their survival stuff?’ With brusque movements he pushed water jugs and dehydrated foods out of his way and grabbed his Oreos.

Standish sat up at the sounds of Cellophane crinkling. They had not been on this damndable raft for more than six hours and the man is hungry? My Lord...does he have to eat constantly?

Are those Oreos?.....He had to run back into that burning inferno of a gallery for Oreos?

Vin felt the piercing glare, “What?” Oreo crumbs clung to his lips and teeth.

“You dear sir are a certifiable buffoon,” Standish accusing reply matched Tanner’s tone.

“Oh what yer too good for Oreos?” Tanner took another bite.

“I would not consider America’s number One Cookie an essential survival food.”

“Oh but Scotch is?” Tanner countered back no longer holding back his irritation. Lately Standish had been a thorn in everyone’s side. Heck Chris sent him undercover just to get the bothersome pain in the ass out of his hair. Vin thought it was a good plan up until Chris assigned him as well.

“I concede that might not have been my first choice,” Standish bowed his head slightly in shame, “but the aged liquor was under lock and key and I did not think we had the time for such clandestine activities.”

Tanner stared gaped mouth at the undercover agent. They had been on a furiously burning yacht with people shooting at them, trying their damnedest to kill them and He....He.....was considering breaking into the liquor cabinet? I’ll Kill’im.

“Smart thinking,” The Texas sarcasm fell like a lead zeppelin across the raft.

“Do not blame me for this predicament,” Standish shoved himself to peeling feet. The leather of his shoes abraded mercilessly against the softened skin of his heels and toes. The malleable floor of the raft sunk beneath his weight and water rushed in to fill the depression.

“I ain’t blamin’ no one,” Vin eyed his partner carefully. The sun had darkened Standish’s tan features to give them a deep reddened hue. Blood shot eyes glared out from under bruises and dried blood.

Tanner had to think looking at Standish was like looking in the mirror. Their ‘Host’ had worked them over pretty good. Not enough to break bones or cause internal damage but enough to make them sore.

Bruises marred and dotted Standish’s face. Discoloration peeked through the white shirt he wore. Even his wrists carried the red abrasions of hand cuffs clicked too tight.

Vin chuckled at the memory. Dang fools put them in cuffs. The minute the captors turned their backs Ezra had his and Vin’s cuffs off. Then they were fighting for their lives.

Vin’s quiet laughter turned into a full belly laugh.

“What do you find so amusing Mr. Tanner?” Standish bristled at the thought of being laughed at.

“Nothin’.....” Vin shook his head trying to clear tears from his eyes without dropping his cookies.

He missed the rising anger in his shipmate.

“If it is nothin’ as you so eloquently put it....why do you carry on in such a childish manner?” Ezra seethed at being mocked.

Tanner gained his composure enough to read the Southerner, “Geez Ez take a chill....jist thinkin’ of the looks on their faces when you threatened to light all that gun powder up.”

Despite himself Ezra couldn’t suppress the smile, “Funny they didn’t think I was prepared to follow through.”

“Hell pard’ no offense but I didn’t think you would follow through,” Vin laughed at the faces that had surrounded him with guns and knives. And there stood Standish with flame in hand standing within throwing distance to a batch of gun powder.

“Yes well one should never utter a bluff they do not intend to carry out,” Ezra answered leaning back against the rolled rubber of the raft.

“Ya ma teach ya that?” Vin found another column of Oreos and tossed them over to the undercover agent. A peace offering. Tanner looked up when he received no answer.

He found Standish staring intently at the wrapper in his hands. Nimble fingers slid over the clear wrap without the intent of opening the package.

Tanner took a stab in the dark, “That what been buggin’ ya these past couple of days?” The bounty hunter scrutinized his partner, “ya ma comin’ into to Denver to turn yer life upside down again?” Tanner chuckled trying to lighten the suddenly somber mood. “Hell pard’ ya can hide out from her at my place.....ain’t no way in hell yer ma would step foot in a place like Purgatory.” Again a light laugh split the air.

The mood only darkened.

Ezra seethed.

He pulled his attention from the cellophane and stared at Mr. Tanner straight in the eye, “I will have you know Mr. Tanner that my mother would not be caught dead in a place like Purgatory because she had spent a life time in pulling herself from such places of debauchery.” Seething disgust dripped from the words.

Vin leaned back against the raft, “I didn’t mean nuthin’ by it....jist ya always git skitterish when ya ma shows up in town and ya ain’t bin yerself lately.”

Ezra’s anger was slow to dissolve, “Yes well I fail to see how it is any of your concern.”

Tanner had taken his last dance step around the Southerner, “Well it is when it lands my ass as your partner.”

“If you have a problem with it then take it up with our esteemed leader,” Standish bit out, “I’m sure he would be more than willing to heed to a request from you.”

Vin paused. He cocked his head to the left and sighed. Four days ago Chris had turned down Standish’s request for a Leave of Absence. They had this case to finish and Ezra wouldn’t give him a reason. Oh not that Ezra didn’t try. He came up with some whoppers. And had it been a few years ago the lies might have worked. Now however, Chris could read Ezra a little better and the excuses did not work.

Tanner glared at the undercover agent. The raft was too small to be fighting. This kept up and one of them would drown the other.

With a second attempt at peace the Sharpshooter reached into the Survival gear and pulled out the Scotch.

“Might as well drink it before Chris and the others show up and confiscate it,” Tanner placed his row of Oreos between his knees and bit into the wrap that sealed the bottle. He fished through his pocket for an opener and finally popped the top off the bottle.

The two men eyed each other.

“Here you might as well take the first sip since ya dang near burned up to get it....sides I don’t want ya complainin’ about Oreo backwash n’ll.”

Ezra skittered around the circumference of the raft until he was within reach and took the bottle. With a wary eye on the Texan he tilted the bottle back and took a generous swig.

“Thought you were suppose to sniff and swirl that stuff and drink it in dainty sips.”

“Yes,” Ezra responded with a slightly raspy breath and watering eyes, Damn that was good, “ But you sent the Mayday exactly seven hours ago......Mr. Larabee and the rest of our compatriots should be arriving any time soon.” Ezra took another gulp and handed the bottle back to Vin.

Vin took the bottle and downed a generous dose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Coast Guard Cutter cut cleanly through the late afternoon water. Swells grew slowly but the wind remained almost non existent. The sharp blue of a midday sky gave way to the waning grey of a setting sun.

Chris checked his watch. With any luck they would find those two before morning. Buck spoke with some of the female crew. JD had busied himself with dismantling and fixing some of the on board computers that had flickered a few hours ago. The Exec. Officer had almost come unglued but Josiah’s calming presence prevented any kind of conniption. Nathan napped in his bunk sure that when they found their teammates his chance of sleep would be nil.

The bow of the boat sliced through the waves with hardly a change in height.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vin sat on the floor of the raft leaning gumby like against the side. He held the near empty bottle of Scotch. With a bleary eye he tried to follow the erratic movements of his partner a few feet away from him. Damn fool moved almost as much as the ocean when he was drunk.

“’ey Ez.....Ey Ez.....,” Vin pushed himself up right for a split second and then slid back to the side, “Ey Ez shut up for a second will ya,”

Ezra quieted down and ceased trying to describe......whatever he was describing.

“Yes? What is it Mr. Tanner,” The heavy southern tones drown his pronunciations.

“How come you so good with boats?” The Texan had noticed this right off even when they first walked onto the dock, which seemed like ages ago. The Southerner knew his way around the boat better than the captain and her crew.

There was a pause and a thick silence. Tanner quickly filled in the gap, “Jist askin’ is all, how’d ya know where the fire would go first? or how the ship would go down?” Vin took another swig and then handed the bottle over to Standish.

The undercover agent took a long swig and then finally chuckled an answer, “It’s in the blood.”

Vin paused and met Ezra’s eyes. Tanner dropped the inquiry, “that and too much whiskey.”

The southerner raised the bottle to his lips and took another healthy drink.

“How come ya wanted that Leave so badly?” Tanner shot out the question quickly.

Ezra lowered the bottle and handed it back to the Texan.

Standish leaned back against the raft. His face tingled from the alcohol. If he closed his eyes he became dizzy. He heard his words trip and mumble over themselves and knew without a doubt he was drunk.

Ezra scrutinized Vin and came to the same conclusion about Tanner. Vin was just as drunk. It would explain the questions.

“Because Mr. Tanner I needed them,”

“Ya shoulda told Chris the truth..he mighta let ya have them,” Vin let his head fall back against the side of the raft. Stars started to dot the blackening sky. His neck and head rolled with the slap of waves that cajoled the raft.

“Mr. Tanner I am not you,” Ezra adjusted a leg stretching it out in the confines of the raft.

“What’s that suppose ta mean?” Vin tried to lift his head up but failed.

“Nuthing...I spoke out of turn,” Ezra gazed up at the early stars and tried to count the number or hours in the time change. Was Mother ahead or behind him?

“How come ya couldn’t tell Chris the truth?” Vin started searching for shooting stars. He dragged the bottle up to his lips and took a sip.

“The truth Mr. Tanner is that my Step Father called the other day,” Ezra closed his eyes and told himself to shut-up. His mouth didn’t listen. “Mother was involved in a car accident,” He paused tripping over the catch in his throat. She lay in a hospital in Switzerland. Their Critical Care Unit. He could imagine the tubes, the IV’s the leads the...indignity and coldness that seemed to envelop such places no matter where in the world you lay.

Vin did manage to sit up. He fought to focus his eyes on the man sitting across from him.

“She was scheduled for surgery today I think...or perhaps yesterday....complications or something...internal hemorrhaging.” Ezra closed his eyes....if only he could trade places.

“Damn Ez why didn’t ya tell anyone....Christ Chris would’ve let ya go.” Vin ignored the bottle and stared at the man whose face now hid in the shadows of night.

“There was no point in tellin’ anyone,” Ezra leaned back and gazed up at the stars again. What if she didn’t make it....Good Lord he would be all alone in this world. Poor Mr. Dunne. but at least he had Buck now....and Vin, Chris.... Gawd he had to stop this self pity.

“No point?” Vin sat up straighter, “Geezus Ezra we’re yer friends...ya suppose to be able....”

“Mr. Tanner it is no secret that none of you like my mother....in fact it might be closer to the truth that you all may even loathe her,” Ezra sat up and then smiled, “Hell Mr. Larabee practically snarls every times she enters his domain.” Standish spotted a shooting star and made a child’s wish. “ None of you can tolerate her ‘Cept of course Mr. Sanchez....misguided soul that he is......I see no point in trying to drum up pity and have you shower feigned condolences...it would be beneath you.”

“Damn it Ezra you should have told Chris he might have said Yes,”

“And he might have said No, as well.”

“He did say No,” Vin shot back.

“Yes but without knowing why.”

Tanner stared at the silhouette of Standish trying to untangle the meanings behind the words.

“Dang Ez....is she alright? Did the surgery go well?”

“I do not know Mr. Tanner. My Step Father was to call sometime today or tomorrow with the news.”

Tanner sipped from the bottle again and handed back to the undercover agent, “Ya should’ve told us Ez,”

“I saw no point in it.”

Conversation tapered off as alcohol soared through blood streams and muted thoughts tangled themselves in blurred minds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cutter slid through the night. The phosphorous in the water sparkled like a child’s toy off the bow of the boat. Chris leaned into the wind. Nathan rechecked his gear as Josiah snored softly in the cabin below. JD had repaired one of the crew’s gameboy and entertained himself with Fogger. Buck stood silently beside Chris watching the night sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ ‘Ey Ez,” Tanner’s drunken voice hauled the Southerner from his semi conscious state. The empty scotch bottle had been discarded toward the bow of the raft. After much discussion it had been determined that the bow faced toward the front of the boat. The disagreement lay in where the front of the boat was currently situated. The ferocity of the debate had been fueled by the liquor and the easy acquiescence had been do to the liquor as well.

“Yes Mr. Tanner,”

“We don’t hate yer ma,”

“Of course,”

“We don’t”

“So you have stated,”

“It’s jis that she don’t treat ya....”

“She’s my mother Mr. Tanner I suspect you would not want me disparaging your mother.. So please don’t try to con me.....my mother taught me too well.”

“Ya know what?”

“I have no idea,”

“I’m hungry,”

“Imagine my surprise,”

Tanner sat up and doggedly started fishing through their survival pack. Dehydrated food was considered and discarded.

“Found some beer,” He held up two bottles of beer in slightly accusing manner.

“Yes well its imported and just sitting next to the Scotch,” Ezra shrugged his shoulders, “it seemed like such a shame to let them go to waste.”

Vin scowled and handed one of the beers off. The screw top lids gave under a slight hiss and foamed from the opened bottle.

“I could go for a cheese burger.”

Standish took a swig of the warm beer and ignored the bitter taste. Yes perhaps a something besides Oreos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck sat against the railing of the Cutter. His hands gripping the dew coated rail while his legs absorbed the rolling motion of the waves, bending and straightening unconsciously with the roll of the ship.

He gazed upward. The sky sparkled with stars.

“Chris ya ever wonder....”

Larabee stood at Buck’s left and cast a furtive glance over the silver tipped waves. Buck’s soft wishful voice pulled a myriad of memories from a leaky vault in his mind. For a brief moment his dark hazel eyes flittered to the broken band of light that marked the Milky Way. Thoughts of camping with Adam in their front yard came unbidden to his mind. He cut Buck’s words of quickly, “Yeah, all the time,” The wistfulness of the statement drowned the next words from Wilmington’s mouth.

Buck swallowed the loss of his favorite ‘nephew’ and ‘sister’ and controlled his grief on his own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JD discarded the game boy long ago and now stood on the Port side of the boat. Chris and Buck seemed comfortable in their solitude. Dunne could not help but think that Buck appeared so much more lonely than Chris at the moment. JD sighed and lifted his chin skyward. He whispered a ‘hey ma,’ to his mom and then crossed the deck to Buck.

Privacy be damned.

“Buck whatcha doin’?”

Wilmington snapped his minds eye away from the stars and the memories of flaming S’mores and childish giggles.

“Nuthin’ kid,”

JD didn’t recognize the resigned tone. They weren’t worried about Vin and Ezra....where they? Heck Vin and Ezra could fall in sewer and come out smelling like roses. Plus there was only five gun men against those two.....the odds favored the destructive duo.

As much trouble as Buck and himself got into, JD knew Vin and Ezra were ten times worse. The difference lay in the noise level. With Buck there always seemed to be explosions and crashes the occasional damsel in distress. But Vin and Ezra tended more toward the knock down drag out fights, occasional flames and of course exchange of gun fire...not to mention totaled vehicles ......something about gas combustion engines and those two did not mix.

“You ain’t worried about Vin and Ez are ya?” JD leaned against the railing next to Buck’s right. He clasped his hands together as they dangled over the side of the boat. He leaned forward and let drool hang from his lip until is snapped. It caught the breeze and floated to the water’s surface. JD hadn’t been worried but now he felt the pangs of uneasiness.

“Nah kid I ain’t worried about those two....”

“Quiet,” Chris’s harshly whispered command cut short the sentence.

Neither man moved as they stared at Chris’s dark outline.

Then they heard it. It floated on the breeze. With the rise and fall of each swell the sound seemed to rise and tumble. The soft barely discernible noise, however, was unmistakable.

Over the hum of heavily worked diesel engines....through the din of a calm ocean, voices softly rang out over the surface of the water.

Off key...no melody and certainly no harmony....in fact, as they listened it seemed as if the voices could or would not agree on the words of the melody.

Only one line came out in unison with any hint of the songwriters and singer’s intention.

“Cheeseburger in paradise...heaven on Earth with Mustard be nice, not to particular not to precise...just a cheese burger in paradise....”

The two voices...and there obviously were two voices, rang in an off key argumentative manner for the next few lines.

Chris, Buck and JD leaned over the rail straining their eyes trying diligently to pinpoint the source of the sound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two stood unsteadily in their small island. With arms crossed they stared defiantly up at the rescue crew.

“You two quit yer belly achin’ and start cooperating,” Nathan had half a mind to just leave them where they were and let them float in on the current.

“Oh so that you can jab us with your needles....fill us full of your saline fluids til our teeth float and then follow us to the head,” The deep southern drawl did not disguise his disgust.

“Ya and then ya make us piss in a cup just for you to play in,” Vin stood a little straighter and nearly lost his balance, “no way.”

“Well said Mr. Tanner.”

“Thanks Ez.”

“You two shut up and git on board,” Chris’s low voice seared the area.

“No,” The belligerence gathered steamed with their cementing unity.

“Sir we could always just dunk them and do a rescue from the water,” A young sailor stood next to his amused Captain. Orrin Travis and Captain Thomas had served sometime together in their respective military careers. When the Coast Guard captain got this assignment he had called Travis for a heads up. Orrin had not been exaggerating.

“Son ya see Ezra over there,” Josiah pointed out the undercover agent, “dunkin’ him would be like dunking a cat....nothin’ but teeth, claws and bad attitude,” Josiah paused, “we’d all get wet and all pay for it in the end.”

The sailor simply nodded and continued to scrutinize the situation.

“Well ya dang fools wouldn’t need fluids if ya didn’t drink all that foolish whiskey,”

Tanner narrowed his eyes and glared at Standish, “Told ya not to take the dang whiskey,”

Ezra was taken back, “You said no such thing....Mr. Nabisco,”

“Least ways I didn’t dehydrate us,” Tanner pushed Standish back a step.

“Oh not you Mr. Health Food enthusiast.... instead you dropped our blood sugars to the gates of Hell...In fact I feel a hypoglycemic seizure coming on....” Ezra regained his balance just enough to shove Vin backward....with too much force. Tanner staggered back into their ‘survival bag’. His momentum continued even though his feet had stopped. In an act of sheer desperation, he latched onto the front of Standish’s shirt.

For a brief second they stood perfectly still angled obscenely backward. The slight reprieve vanished and they crashed to the floor of the raft with a muted splash.

“Get’em boys,” Josiah eagerly sent JD, Buck and Nathan over the side of the Cutter to the raft below.

The captain rested his chin in the cup of his hand and stole a long side ways glance at Larabee, “They like this often?”

Chris watched as Buck, JD and Nathan jumped into the rescue raft like a team of Frog Men. With movements spawned and perfected from shear repetition they captured and subdued their teammates.

Larabee returned the Captain’s gaze and simply raised his eyebrow and smirked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vin cracked an eye open. His face felt leathery and dry. Almost as dry as the inside of his mouth. A strange smell invaded his nostrils. It held the tang of a hospital and antiseptic but the heavy smell of oils and diesel fuel hung in the air. Musty too.

He moved an arm to rub his face. A hand stopped it.

“Glad to see ya awake,”

Larabee. Damn they were rescued...must not have been a dream...Ezra and his damn whiskey.

Vin cautiously turned his head. A headache drummed in the background but not enough to account for the queasy stomach.

“Chris?”

“Yup,”

“Where....”

Larabee cut him off, “Coast Guard picked you up few hours ago. Still a few hours from land...” Chris paused still wrestling between anger and relief.

“Ez?”

“Woke up an hour or so ago,”

“He ok?”

“Same ole self....swear that man has a phone fetish,” Chris rubbed at his face. Standish woke up disoriented and lost. Once he spied Vin in the cot next to him he started demanding a phone. Wouldn’t let it go. Nathan tired and frustrated ordered the undercover agent to lay down. Things fizzled quickly down the drain from there. Larabee shook his head regretting his actions when he had entered the room. He regretted his anger and fierce words...the unfounded accusations and the unfair blame. In the end, the words worked and Standish lay back quietly under the blankets diverting his gaze to the far wall.

The End justified the Means....didn’t it? The man had not stirred since....

Vin let his eyes travel from Chris to Ezra.

“A few days ago his ma was in a bad wreck over seas somewhere....he’s waitin’ to hear if she’s ok.”

Chris paled and sat back in his chair. He rubbed his jaw with one hand staring at his undercover agent with frustrated anger, “Why the hell didn’t he say anything,”

“Figured we wouldn’t care,”

“I’ll kill’im,” Larabee redirected his gaze toward his sharpshooter, “that why he wanted Leave?”

“Yup,” Vin tried to stifle a yawn.

“Why didn’t he just tell me?”

“Thought ya would say No,”

Chris shook his head incredulously, “I did say ‘No’...” He wanted to throttle the sleeping man, “Hell if I’d known I’d a sent Josiah with him.” Larabee dropped his gaze to his hands....heck if he could have swung it...the whole team would have gone... would have traveled to the corners of the globe for his agent.

“Yeah well ya know Ez...rather disappoint hisself than let someone else do it,” Vin tried to fight to keep his eyes open. It wasn’t working.

“I’ll twist his head off,” Chris muttered to himself.

“Yeah, huh,” Vin agreed in his own way as he drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josiah stared at the “No Service” indicator on the digital phone. Despite JD’s best attempt the small phones roaming search had failed. The Captain despite the sense of emergency in the call,had refused use of the radio.

They would be on land in a few short hours.

Sanchez leaned against the railing with his ankles crossed. The small phone seemed no more than a toy in his hand. With an intolerant growl he tossed the phone over his shoulder. The ocean swallowed the tiny device without so much as a an audible splash.

“Shouldn’t treat your phone that way Josiah,” Nathan rested his forearms on the rail and watched the distant horizon take shape. Land was in sight.

“Yer right .....good thing it was Brother Dunne’s phone.”

Jackson chuckled and pushed off the rail heading down below deck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The heavy feel of humidity coupled with lowtide brought out the strong undeniable smell of ocean life.

Josiah breathed deeply trying to inhale the heavy essence of life living on the boundaries of two worlds.

Vin wobbled with rubbery knees as he stepped down the gang plank. The stank of mud low pervaded his nostrils and turned his gut. The shallow water kept the plank at a steep angle. The small two by two runners worked to maintain some traction on the descent. His cowboy boots, however, slipped on the ever present slime that coated all wood that resided in close proximity to water. Tanner’s slick soled boots suddenly disappeared out from underneath himself. With a leg extended out before him and the other tucked underneath him the sharpshooter grabbed desperately for the rope guide line.

Chris gazed over his shoulder and down at Vin. The wise smirk covered any comments that might have been uttered.

“Shut up Larabee.” Tanner’s arms shook as he lifted himself to his feet. Buck’s strong hands were an unwelcomed but necessary component to regaining his feet.

“You too Buck jist shut up,” Tanner hissed out. Damn whiskey wasn’t agreeing with the Oreos.

Josiah chuckled with Ezra hot on his heels. The undercover agent, like the sharpshooter held onto the rope guide as shaky legs quivered and strained.

Nathan shook his head. Dang fools. Not one of them did what was good for them. All too busy proving how tough they are...how independent they could be at any given time. Jackson had half a mind to let them be independent right over the side of the dock into the drink. Instead, however, he followed with an outstretched hand careful not to touch the man before him but afraid to pull the safety net away. Ezra weren’t no worse or no better than any of them.

JD still scoured the deck looking for his misplaced phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vin sat on the hood of the car watching quietly. Chris leaned against the bumper and grill with arms crossed. Dang fool just had to tell the truth...just trust them..why was it so difficult?

Nathan stood behind his open door with a foot resting on the floor board. He shook his head in dismay. The raw wound of his father’s recent loss resurfaced with stinging vengeance.

Josiah hovered uneasily by the driver’s door of the Suburban. Worried eyes cast themselves to the lone figure by the pay phone.

JD watched with some trepidation as the undercover agent stood with his back to them, still hiding, still trying to disguise his fear. Dunne couldn’t help think that the more Standish hid from them the more he actually exposed.

Dunne once again patted down his pockets trying to find his elusive phone. Buck probably took it...

Wilmington held his ground just a few yards from the Southerner. The black tar rolled and cracked under foot. The summer heat radiated off the worn black top. Pillions circumvented the stationary dock, each pillar duly coated with the residue of seagulls.

Seagulls had also graced the small three sided metal phone box with amazing accuracy. Dried white urate dustings stained the blue and silver phone box in a haphazard fashion. Small remnants of trash littered the ground near the black pole that supported GTE’s property. The hard plastic book cover dangled from a grey coated cable. The weather proofing cover protected the missing phone book from just about everything but thieves.

The hanging stench of low tide clung to the air and clothing alike. The stiff breeze that had whistled across the bow of the Cutter had disappeared leaving faces pink but needing to feel the wind again.

Wilmington cast a forlorn look at Chris and Vin. The two men shrugged hopelessly in return.

Once hitting solid ground Ezra had discreetly melted from the group and sought out the phone. He had held his tongue since waking. The boat had just cleared the Jetties at the entrance of the harbor. Well he had whispered a quiet apology to Vin and then the Captain. Other than that the man seemed to melt into the background cloaked not only in shadows but also fear and embarrassment.

Ezra never asked them to wait for him while he made his call. He never told them about his mother...JD had offered his condolences on board and Standish’s cheeks had darkened even further.

The man found humiliation when others offered him comfort and kindness but had no qualms about parading through Denver in a table cloth.

Chris just didn’t understand his agent.

With some apprehension Larabee watched the back of his undercover agent.

Standish refused to face him and Vin. He somehow avoided close proximity with any of the others, thus avoiding any conversation....other than the softly uttered apology.

It was with silent support the others watched their seventh make his phone call.

Buck could hear the soft Southern tones but not understand the words. He watched with trepidation as Standish leaned his head and shoulder against the side of the booth, heedless of the grime present. Ezra’s shoulders slumped. The voice tapered off and soon the sunburned neck, with a matted crown of dirty hair, simply nodded to inquiries unheard by the others.

Buck watched this for a few moments and then stepped forward. The undercover agent continued to nod without articulating or creating a sound.

“’Ey pard’ they can’t see ya noddin’.”

Watery eyes swiveled toward Buck.

Tip of tongue darted nervously over chapped lips. Green eyes focused briefly on the mustached face before darting back toward the ground.

Wilmington understood the dilemma. He easily took the phone away and held it to his own ear.

A soft feminine voice chattered quietly on the other end. The language unrecognizable. Buck suspected German but could not be sure.

A big smile spread light his face, “ ‘Ey Maude...how’s it goin’? Heard you wrinkled some paint on yer car.”

Buck rested a callused hand on the back of Standish’s neck and squeezed it reassuringly. He ignored the small droplets of water that suddenly stained the tip of Standish’s shoes. Instead Buck swung a glance over his shoulder at the rest of the team and gave them a wink.

“Yeah he’s right here....Did he tell you that he and Vin blew up a yacht the other day?” Buck kept a reassuring hand on Standish, as the son fought for composure. His mother beat the odds again.

The exclamation on the other side had Buck pulling the phone away from his ear.... “He didn’t, well let me tell you....”

Chris closed his eyes briefly and breathed a sigh of relief. Vin found his hands suddenly interesting

.

Nathan’s soft, “Thank God,” heralded the relief they all felt and Josiah’s exclamation, “Amen Brother...and this calls for a toast.” Brought smiles to everyone.

“Drinks on Ez....it’s his ma that pulled it out of the hat this time,” JD forgot about his phone. A smile split his face that would not disappear anytime soon.

The end.