Chapter 3

The back packs were packed and up on deck. Jill Olson was packing some clothes into a small gym bag. The "Yachtsman" was securing the boat. She was glad she took him up on the offer. Three months sailing about was really cool. Just what she needed before trying to get her last two years of college out of the way. Maybe now she'd get serious about life?

Jill skipped up the stairs and found her back pack. She attached the gym bag to the side with a sturdy clamp and then headed forward. Mike was forward, locking up the hatches. She was surprised she took him up on the offer. She'd only played beach volleyball with him for a couple of months. They hit it off okay! Shit! He was at least twenty years her senior, probably more but she didn't want to know.

The "Yachtsman" turned and found her watching him. He smiled at her. She was fun. But now it was back to 'Vegas for a while. He didn't think she would want to go with him but you never knew. "You packed up, Jill?"

"Yea. Let's blow this pop stand."

"Hey! Bimbo! That's my yacht you're talking about."

She flipped him the bird and disappeared down the hatch and into the bowels of the boat. Mike came aft and followed her down into the boat. Five minutes later the lights went off and the two of them came up from below deck. Mike sat on the deck and slipped the straps of his back pack over his arms. He shifted so the straps came up over his shoulders and then placed his hands under his butt. Jill came forward and attached his chest strap. Then she grabbed the chest strap with both hands.

"On three," he said. "One, two, three." They both grunted and then he got his legs up under him and was up on his feet. The pack weighed a little under a hundred and twenty pounds. Jill's was just a little under a hundred. Mike easily lifted it to her back and after attaching her chest strap they were off. Mike helped her off the boat and they made their way to the parking lot.

An hour later they were cruising at seventy on the fifty-five, heading for 'Vegas. Jill said she had some time until school started. It was a rented van and the back packs were in the back along with four other bags. They had made three trips from the yacht to the parking lot. The first was the hardest. The rest "cake" as the "Yachtsman" said. All told a little over four hundred pounds of just about the best marijuana grown in the province of British Columbia, Canada. Long long ago, the "Yachtsman" and "Snake" befriended an air force enlisted man who, after he separated in the eighties, moved up there to grow.

"Light up a joint, girl." He liked calling her "girl" and remembered the day he met her, playing volleyball down at Big Corona. Once they teamed up, they were almost un-beatable. The offer came after many weeks of just playing ball and hanging out at the beach. He knew she was surprised they got along so well because of the age difference. And then the sex when they were out on the ocean. That was when he first took her. He knew it was the best sex she'd ever had. And she knew he knew. That was the best part.

She put the joint in his mouth. "I'm going to catch some 'Z's, ' okay?"

"Sure. Climb in the back." She was already climbing over the console. He had the urge to grab a handful of her lean, tight ass. He didn't. 'Vegas would be more than enough for her. He sucked on the joint as they whizzed through the I-5 interchange. He pulled his lap top up on to the passenger seat and turned it on. He got a signal about three minutes later and quickly fired off his message.

To: "Snake"

From: "Yachtsman"

Consignment coming north. ETA: 0600 hours. Bringing company.

He closed up the laptop and took another hit off the joint. This was an exceptional batch. The buyers would love it. And it was always fun to see Jay. This trip was no exception. Hard to believe that sixteen years had gone by. Mike remembered that Saturday afternoon when he and "Snake" happened upon Jay in one of the numerous bars that dot Angeles City just outside the gates of Clark Air Base, The Philippines. He had three lovely, young Filipino ladies with him. "Snake" inquired as to whether he would be able to handle them all.

The Philippines - 1985

Jay looked up at him and said very clearly, "You wanna watch. Probably want seconds. This is all adding up. I sincerely hope that you'll be able to contribute to the experiment! Inn keeper! San Miguel's for all my friends!" The girls were all laughing so "Snake" pulled up a chair and the two of them sat. They also spent the next forty-eight hours whoring around Angeles City with Staff Sergeant Jay Richards.

Jay was down from the Osan AB, Republic of Korea (ROK) where he was spending a year of his life before he separated and became a civilian. Mike Minter and "Snake" Edwards were lieutenants and had just met the week before at the kick off to their first Cope Thunder. Mike normally wouldn't have been hanging out with anyone other than fighter pilots as he was driving an F-16 from Kunsan AB, ROK. But this "Snake" guy was pretty cool for a "trash hauler."