Section 21

“Captain Phil, how do you make this big flat boat go fast?” Little Bev asked. “And in the dark, too.”

“The dark is not a big thing, really. We have machines that tell me what the bottom looks like, maps that say what it looked like before the last big storm and radar that tells what is on top of the water. That’s kind of how we found your family tonight.”

“I’m watching our ‘electric eyes’ while the captain drives the boat. But even I can’t figure how this boat goes so fast.”

“It’s sorta not really a pontoon boat, ladies. More like two racing hulls connected by a platform like a rigid catamaran. The bottoms are not round tubes, but ‘vee’ shapes and have little wings to keep them as deep in the water as I want. If the engines were lower, we could get the whole bottom out of the water and ride on the wings.” Phil admitted, “We could almost do it now.”

“So why aren’t we flying over the water, that would be fun.” Beverly wondered. “It would be even faster!”

“Not tonight, sweetie. We have too many people on board. All the girls, adults and the kids, plus the cargo, weigh close to 4000 pounds. That’s two tons of stuff extra to carry. A good captain shouldn’t take chances like that, ever. Especially when there’s has a man as hurt as your friend on board.”

“Is Mr. Wilkins hurt bad?”

“Bev, he has a broken arm and a really bad bump on his head. While Phil steers the boat, Medic Sherry is keeping tabs on Mr. Wilkins. Mrs. Wilkins and your Dad got burned a little in the fire. The Captain’s sisters and the other girls are keeping the children and your Mom secure and safe. Some are watching the engines and will tell Phil if anything goes wrong.”

“So Captain Phil is going as fast as he thinks is safe? That’s good. How fast is that?”

“Right now, we’re doing about 43.5 knots or just over 50 miles per hour. When we turn right in a few minutes, we’ll slow for the approach to the harbor to stay in deep water and to go around other boats.”

He cut power to begin the turn west near Harker’s Island. They heard a loud noise overhead. “What was that?!” Bev shouted.

“That, my princess, was a Harrier jumpjet, out of the Marine base in Jacksonville. It’s close to Swansboro where you started the day this morning. This must be a training flight, but they might have intercepted the call from the Coast Guard to make a hole in traffic.”

“Wow! You really can call in the Marines! The most exciting summer vacation ever!” Beverly was going nuts. “Well, except for the nearly getting blowed up part.”

The jet slowed to a hover. The radio woke up. “Calling Captain Swenson. This is the Marine jumpjet above you. Coast Guard reports you inbound with shipwreck survivors and injured. Flight Command and Control has authorized a mission change from training flight to emergency escort.”

“‘Devil’s Daring’ copies five by five. Escort accepted and appreciated.”

“Hear you have a Marine on board. Can she get to the comm.?”

Phil sent Beverly to get Sherry if she could come. Mr. Wilkins was awake and alert, so she came to the helm. “Inactive Gunnery Sergeant Singer here. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

“Sherry Singer, it’s Lt. Crazyhorse Gomez. I got promoted and you got sent home to clobber more terrorists and save lives. What’s the situation there?”

“Looey, you dog, great to see you haven’t bent the jet, yet. Have two burn victims, another with a simple arm fracture and a possible concussion. Fracture set and stabilized, alert but woozy. We have no analgesics. All three are in considerable discomfort.”

“Sherry, everyone from CG Captain Hardcastle to the Harbormaster to the Harbor Patrol requested ‘a hole in traffic’. Ships standing off both sides of center channel, Harker’s to Beaufort. Follow the path. You are clear to the pier. EMTs and Red Cross are in place.”

“Louis Gomez, we have some very impressed kids here. Wag wings for them. They’ll love it. Regards and thanks to the guys at Flight Command and the flight line. Stay in touch. Apparently I’m easier to locate than I thought.”

“Sherry, you are not exactly leading a stealth life. Can’t turn on the TV without seeing your mug somewhere. Jeez, Marine, the Commander in Chief knows where you are!” Gomez redirected his attention. “Captain Swenson, follow the diamond lane at max safe. We’ll lead you in.”

“Hole in traffic noted. Thanks for the company, Lt. Gomez. ‘Devil’s Darling’ over and out.”

The Harrier dropped to water level, waggled the wings and rose to about a hundred feet, matching speed with the ‘pontoon’ boat. Phil increased to 35 knots and headed in toward the dock.

Over the intercom, he announced. “We make port in ten minutes. Twins, prepare to cast lines. Medic, strap your patient to a board for transport. For everyone else, EMTs are on the dock with the Red Cross. Marcie, contact Master Norton. Request a mechanical inspection of the ‘Darling’. We were barely in spec and we pushed the outboards to the limit.”

He looked up to see a line of vessels on either side of the center channel, lighting their way. Fog horns and klaxons sounded in salute as they passed each ship.

Cal Clement said to Sherry. “I’m astounded. All this for seven survivors? We’re not that important. Clearing twenty miles of busy shipping lanes, a lighted path, and a Marine Air escort, isn’t that a bit over the top?”

“It also happens for one, Mr. Clement. It’s the symbolism. These people have been living by and on the ocean for close to four hundred years. Assisting distressed mariners is serious business here. One day it could be any of them in trouble and the ocean is most unforgiving.”

“Maybe this is a little much, but yesterday this crew took down a gang of thugs hounding Beaufort. Thanks to Phil’s observations, we set the gears turning to get two more who probably sabotaged your boat and the commercial ship belonging to Captain Jefferies. So we not only saved several lives, but we helped clean out a rats’ nest. Every soul we see might have been in your place last night. If you don’t help every sailor in trouble, who helps you?”

Valerie spoke. “I can understand about the ‘Honey Bee II’. Those people are local. But us?”

“Simple. You were humans in distress at sea. That is enough.”

May cut in. “I’ve lived with these people. People talk. By now they know you run a tight ship, keep good records, maintain your craft carefully and follow the rules. You are not a bunch of drunken fratboys or irresponsible trophy fishers. Information spreads fast. Odds are you keep your property neat, buy local, and don’t act like hotshot tourists. How am I doing?”

“Yeah. That’s them.” Martha Wilkins entered the discussion. “We visit every year and get the same safety lecture. ‘No alcohol on the water. Life vests when on the boat. No horsing around if the boat is moving. Be nice to the shopkeepers or pay in-season prices year round.’ And the house is spotless, in and out.”

April was there, too. “So you’re not locals yet. That takes decades. But you are more than tourists. You pay property taxes not the hospitality surtax.”

“Harbor master to the ‘Devil’s Darling’. You are clear at Berth Seven again. Reception committee standing by. Over.”

Phil announced over the loudspeakers. “First Mates, prepare port side lines. Ready to stop and back this puppy in. Wave to the escorts.” He lit every bulb on the vessel, flashed twice and left them burning so the harbor could see the thanks. Horns sounded throughout the harbor.

“Captain Swenson to the Master. Thank you for the kind welcome. Please convey our appreciation to the ships on station. Clear skies and smooth seas to everyone. ‘Devil’s Darling’ out.”

“Joey here on the ‘Fury’. Standing off Lola with company. No more surprises for you tonight if we have any say. Or today or whatever the time is. We got your back, Phil.”

“Phil here. You guys are the best. Don’t be crazy. Call the CGs. Ask for Captain Hardcastle. He has torpedoes.”

Joey here. “Torpedoes? Cool. ‘Huron’ still anchored at Stacy. By the way, we passed ‘crazy’ days ago. No place to go but totally bonkers. ‘Fury’ out.”

Just past the pier, he reversed the engines, coming to a stop. Then, left engine still in reverse and the right engine at half forward, he spun 90°, counterclockwise, killed both outside engines and backed in using the center only at eighth speed aft.

The ‘Darling’ stopped within six inches of the bumpers, port and stern. JJ and JD caught and belayed the lines as the EMTs swarmed the deck, shouting instructions and asking questions. The crew, except for Sherry, got out of the way. She was considered first responder and the most informed. The EMTs followed her lead until the injured were offloaded and enroute to Carteret Medical.

The Red Cross had dry blankets and hot food on the dock ready to boost spirits and blood sugar levels. Phil and the girls were in no better shape than the survivors. They had been running on adrenaline and metabolic credit cards and it was time to settle the accounts.

The Red Cross ladies took one look at the crew and started passing out cheeseburgers and milk as fast as they could. In North Carolina a real burger ‘all the way’ means mustard, chili, onions and slaw. These were from the diner and were perfect. Just perfect. No tomato, no lettuce, no mayo. If someone wants a salad, they ask for a salad.

More than one person on the pier wondered how little 90 pound girls could eat two of Big Ollie’s Burgers and live to tell the tale. Twenty-two rather small girls and a medium tall boy struck terror into the hearts of nutritionists everywhere as they disappeared 44 burgers.

Willy sat back and burped. That bothered no one. She should have exploded. “That might hold us till breakfast.”

Auggie, who had arrived with Ed, Mel and Beanie, actually laughed so hard he had to sit on the dock.

Lanie sighed and said, “Hey! We haven’t had anything to eat since an early breakfast except some rolls and pie at Mizz Maggie’s. What do you expect?”

Mel spoke to Phil. “Looking at the load and trip times, I guess you went to the max on every performance chart printed for this baby.” He was not in ‘good ole boy’ persona. “Beanie and I want to dry-dock the ‘Darling’ tonight and tomorrow. The hulls and planes need a good going over. The outboards sounded a touch out of sync when you went from half ahead to full reverse. Makes my marina look bad. We can’t have that.”

“That’s great. Please pay attention to the controls and hoses, too. A little birdie chirped some disturbing news tonight.” Phil agreed. “Now where to spend the night? Beaufort Inn have a room for twenty-three, breakfast included?”

“No, but I think Maggie and the Red Cross organized some cots and pallets at the hurricane evacuation shelter, also known as the high school on high ground. The Red Cross boss lady who happens to be Jenny Milden of Milden’s Hardware, and Big Ollie Quinn have breakfast duty.” Auggie said. “I’m pretty certain the Episcopal Candy Stripers have cleaned out the small nurses’ scrubs at the hospital. Your crew will have something to wear while you sleep.”

“The people at the Inn are doing your laundry with their bedding on the night shift. Maggie gave the marching orders on the wash and care for the sailorette suits already.” Mel added.

He and Beanie separated from the group on the pier to begin the trip upriver to the marina. Phil cautioned him “Mel. There may be the odd Glock stashed on board. Anything you find will be registered and licensed to one of my crew or me. Just a heads up to keep eyes open.”

“Phil, no one touches your boat but Beanie, his cousin, my brother or me.” Mel promised seriously. “You and the girls paid some dues lately. Tonight is on the house all the way. Have you any idea how much was recovered at the gangsters’ house? Just say they couldn’t be bothered to fence anything. A bunch of people got everything back, or will soon.”

“That’s good to hear. Let me collect the crew and find out where we sleep. Wednesday was a long day and ended late. Thursday started early and Friday is here before Thursday is done. Is it still June?”

Mel laughed, “Last I looked, but I don’t see so good without my spectacles.” Then he went assist Beanie ease the boat out of the slip.

Before Phil could round up the girls, Ed Norton received a call. His face fell into a major scowl. “We’ll surround the shelter tonight, Captain. No one in, no one out. Please call the Sheriff. I’ll deal here.”

Phil had a feeling. He jumped on board and searched the forward compartments. Four Glocks and a half dozen eight-inch knives went into a towel. He retrieved his clothes also. He handed the towel bundle to April. “Knives and guns, no extra mags. I have a bad feeling. Keep it on the QT. You, May, Sherry and me get Glocks. Daggers to SuLing.”

Bonnie slipped up, whispering, “Bad moon rising, Cousin. We’re already in it. Gotta get out the other side.”

“I hear you. You, April and May get with Auggie. Sherry and my sisters have side arms. SuLing has knives. We need divers’ knives, spearguns, something for the others. My ‘I don’t know how I know it but I do’ sense is working overtime.”

The girls scattered on high alert. Phil made eye contact with the chandler and motioned him over. “Whatever they ask, however weird, please do it. This is important. I don’t know why yet, but it is.” Auggie raised an eyebrow. Phil continued. “Something is very, very wrong here, Auggie. Be alert and careful. That’s all I can say. Really, I’m not holding back. Stay close to home.”

Ed came trotting up with two very stern men in suits and the Chief of the Harbor Patrol. “Phil, you know Archie Taverner from the Patrol. These two gentlemen are Agents Smith and Jones of the FBI attached to Homeland. Don’t look like that. Really. John Smith and Bill Jones.”

“What can I do for you gentlemen? This is not a simple Q&A about the Stacy wreck site, is it?”

Agent Smith said. “First things first, Captain Swenson. Let’s get your crew squared away in the shelter. Then we can talk.”

Phil called April over. “Give the Chandler a list of what you need for the night. He will fill the order and get it to the gym. We need to go now. Did you pass out the supplies from the ‘Darling’?”

“Done and done, bro. There’s a cot with my name on it calling me home.” A cordon of armed and hyper aware deputies and police accompanied them.

May eased up to Phil. “Curious, big brother. Your ‘I don’t know but I do’ is accurate this morning. Got details?”

“No, but storm warnings are flying where they shouldn’t be. Do you have your present?”

“Yep. Have we kicked someone’s nest?”

“Seems that way. Homeland is here. FBI, too, and they are nervous. I suspect Stacy is involved. Tell the girls to find dirt if they see weps out. You, April and Sherry are to go hot and fast. We’ll answer questions later.”

The Red Cross, led by Jenny Milden and the Candy Stripers, met them at the gym. The ladies and girls went to the girls’ dressing room for showers and clean clothes. Phil went to the boys’, showered quickly and put his normal clothes back on. The crew got green, blue and pink scrub pants and pullover shirts to match. Knives and Glocks found pockets. Sherry kept Phil’s until they could find privacy. She slipped him his gun as soon as she had the chance. “Situation gone to hell?”

“Now yet, but expected. Stay frosty. Y’all got phones?”

“Yep, all but the survivors. Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins and Cal Clement are at the Med Center and Valerie is here with the three kids. They lost their phones in the fire.”

“Can you call Singer Security without making everyone go DefCon 1?”

“Will a 3 do?” She looked around. “These guys are at a solid 2 now.”

“That will work. I don’t want to cause a panic, but better to have and not need, etc.”

“I could ask Lt. Gomez for backup. He would be more that happy to ‘mission creep’ a training exercise up someone’s ass for a sister-in-arms.” She laughed. “Anyway, it ain’t legal for DoD people to enforce domestic law, but the Coast Guard can since they are DHS now.”

“They could before. They were Commerce or Treasury, before 9-1-1. Armed Forces can probably help with disaster relief if it is ‘aid and assist’ only and they carry no guns.” He sighed. “It shouldn’t get that far unless the barbarians are at the gates. Just one of several possibilities. I’ll let you know.”

The FBI agents called him, Ed and Archie to the Coach’s office and closed the door. Agent Jones’ phone chose that second to ring. He motioned them to find a seat. None of the five sat at the desk, suggesting equality among allies. Phil figured the Patrol Chief and Harbormaster earned it due to their experience and familiarity. DHS/FBI wanted to play well with others especially when they had home field advantage.

Phil figured his acceptance was a combination of his central involvement in everything, his Captain’s rating, recent performance and the firepower behind his name. Whatever, he was happy to be in the loop, because he and his crew had the most to lose.

Agent Jones ended his conversation. “Gentlemen. Good news and bad news. Unfortunately, it’s the same news. The alleged saboteurs are not your ‘Wildcats’. But I’ll get to why in a minute. Captain Hardcastle’s divers started pulling up pieces of the wreckage that exhibit clear signs of tampering. Punctured hydraulic hoses, frayed wires, cut fuel lines, loose connections, fresh wrench marks, etc. are on his deck. The first forensics experts are attempting to lift prints now.” he nodded to Agent Smith. “John, what can you add?”

“We ran the photos supplied by Master Norton through our face recog system and got hits on both. We found two members of a recently formed criminal ring operating out of medium sized ports in the Mid-Atlantic States. North Carolina, in the middle with two huge sounds, marinas in places like Southport, Roanoke, from Duck to Hatteras, Calabash and Beaufort, is prime territory for them. Mostly private, high-dollar pleasure boats, owners usually out-of-state, passing through to somewhere else, are the chief targets. Topsails and Swansboros are everywhere.”

“The plan is to partially disable a ship, shadow it until the distress call goes out, board, take the valuables and let it sink with all hands. We suspect they have hit Savannah, Georgetown, SC, and Bath, and may be continuing operations. Beaufort is the first place where we might have definitive evidence turn up.”

“What is your plan going forward?” Phil asked. “Circumstances foiled their latest plans. They could not know the two victims would be in close proximity. I think the plan was to burn the ‘Mad Momma’ as a distraction and board the ‘Honey Bee II’ elsewhere in the chaos.” He grimaced. “This means the ‘Devil’s Darling’ is identified as an adversary by the shadow ships and becomes a target. And I mean ‘ships’ plural since by your reckoning each would have had a vessel following.”

Archie asked again for Phil when no plan was immediately put on the table. “Where are we now that we know who some of the local pirates are?”

“We have instructions to keep the “Devil’s Darling’ crew under protective surveillance to identify more members of the conspiracy, collect evidence to connect them with the other incidents and then make arrests.”

“And our part? What do my crew and I do in the meantime? Let them damage my boat and act dumb? Let them threaten my crew while you take notes, compile data and maybe do something about it later?”

“You act normal. We’ll do the rest.”

“Compliant bait in a trap? While people up and down the coast are put in deadly jeopardy while you sit back and collect ‘evidence’?” Phil’s voice turned to ice. Ed looked at Archie, rolled his eyes and grinned. The agents were going to get Swenson ‘normal’.

“That’s about right, Swenson. Let the professionals deal with the problem.” Smith sneered. “We know what we’re doing.”

“That’s Captain Swenson to you Mr. Smith. I do know what you’re doing, too. You are putting lives in jeopardy while you vacillate over the quality of the evidence. You are putting the crew of the ‘Daring’ in immediate danger. This is unacceptable and we will not be sacrificial pawns.”

“One more word Swenson and we will take you into ‘protective custody’ and it will be a cold day in hell before anyone sees you again. Ever hear of the Patriot Act?”

“Yes. But I’m a minor and will make a call now. It’s on speed dial. You can listen. I’ll even put it on speaker.” The distant phone was ringing before they could respond.

“Abrams here. It’s early. I’m on my first cup. What’s up?”

“David, it’s Phil, Dennis and Claire’s son. I have two FBI agents attached to DHS who either want to use me and my crew as bait in a poorly conceived trap or want to arrest and disappear me. Could you speak to Agents John Smith and Bill Jones? I don’t think they like me anymore.”

“I haven’t talked to Swensons since the tornado debacle. Your mom was awesome.” Abrams said with a chuckle. “I’ll call them next, after I talk to their boss. Give Adam and Dennis my regards. Adam owes me a round at Pinehurst #2, remind him.”

“David. Please call Captain Connor Hardcastle on the ‘Huron’, currently on station at Stacy. He has most of the details. The guys looking at me right now are more interested in bossing the locals than getting the job done.”

“You calling Adam?”

“Of course. Somebody has to do the work.”

“Be careful, Phil. Buzz in Ops says these pirates are equipped and dangerous. I don’t think the Agents are as dialed in as they think. Or they’re stupid. Either choice is bad. I have calls to make. See you later.”

Archie spoke merrily to the agents, “I suspect you’re going to get an unpleasant call. You have screwed the pooch on this one.”

“Like hell. The kid is not in charge here. He’ll do what he is told just like everyone else.” Jones declared. “This is federal.”

“Mister, it isn’t federal until you put some facts on the table.” Archie informed him.

Phil was calling Adam. “Adam, we have a problem. Did Sherry call Nick St. John? Looks like worst case down here. Feds can’t handle reality. I talked to David. Changes will be made.” There was a pause. Adam was not on speaker.

“We need two full on strike teams here and a perimeter around the island, one mile out. Maybe a ready force at Southport and Manteo. We can cover the Pamlico from here and the Manteo people can watch the Albemarle.”

“Subtle is nice, but not necessary if it gets hardcore. Better get Carmine, Claire and Carole on the Mom-net. The Families have a stake in this, beyond the kids. The Thompsons, O’Briens, Elliotts, McGuires, Pattersons, every company has vets on payroll, family or not.”

“OK, great. SingerSat would be excellent. Tight beam to the island, the ‘Huron’ and Nick’s mobile earth station.” Hesitation. “The Moms, too, or they will hound us til the end of time. David and Max might be interested.”

“Thanks, Adam. We’ll be all right if we are allowed to protect ourselves. Remember, the CinC likes us. He said so on TV. Later. Give the Moms a hug for us.”

He was not aware Archie had dialed the Sheriff, leaving the device on so Overman could hear the goings on.

Phil called Nick St. John next. They did their greetings, talked about the concert at the Art Quad and got down to business. Resources, threat assessment, geography, surveillance, tactics and response were among the topics discussed. The call was heated and complete.

“Phil, do we have local authority and Federal cooperation?”

“Yes on the local. Yes for DHS. Not so much with the FBI, but that may be a non-issue at this point. In any case, I plan to ignore them. The two guys in front of me want me in Gitmo. That will not happen.”

“Good. Assets will be in place by dawn. Send intel directly to me. I will distribute as needed. Sec. Abrams, Captains McGuire and Hardcastle advised at every point.” He gave Phil two secure cell numbers. “Have Sheriff Overman contact his counterpart in Dare County. Give both men the first number.”

“Good luck, Nick, good hunting. I’ll keep you advised as facts shift.”

He immediately received a text message and answered, “Option #2 from appearances.”

He watched the agents getting ready to leave. “Are you forgetting something, gentlemen?”

“We are leaving. You are on your own. Fuck this backwater hole.” Smith mumbled.

“I believe your instructions were to assist and observe or to turn over all intelligence collected to date and return to DC. Please give your briefcases to Chief Taverner, who will search your vehicles before the Sheriff escorts you to the county line.”

Overman entered. “A duty I will be happy to perform. Agents, your briefcases and car keys, please.”

“No way, asshole. Bill, we are out of here.”

Phil called from the door. “Sara. Sally. The two suits are not to leave here with their notes or car keys, orders from their boss. Non-lethal only force permitted. Teaching humility is pointless if they can’t use the lesson later. They are armed.”

He turned back to the fuming agents. “If you can get to the exit, we’ll just take the notes and files. Have a pleasant trip.” Smiling, he stepped back, giving them room to muscle past.

“Thanks, Phil. We missed the action at home. This makes us even.” Sally grinned, wolf at the rabbit style. “Sirs, you heard Phil. Keys and cases, please.” She and Sara blocked their path in the center of the gym.

The grossly overconfident bullies attempted to shove their way past the little blondes and found themselves slammed to the floor, rigid fingers poised over their bulging eyes and fists at their throats. Total lapsed time, 1.5 seconds. “Bonnie and Connie, would you be so kind as to remove their weapons, badges and pocket contents?” Sara asked nicely. “Pay special attention to their ankles and lower back for hideaway guns. The shoulder holsters are obvious.”

“We would ask you, SuLing, but you don’t have a carry permit yet and can’t touch the guns.” Sally apologized to the little ninja.

“Thanks for the thought anyway. All I am allowed to do is kill them in self-defense. Be a shame to get blood on this parquet court. So hard to clean.” SuLing motioned for the agents to let Connie and Bonnie get the pistols in their back waistband. With a dagger in each hand, drawing circles slowly in the air, she made her point.

The Sheriff received the weapons and badges with a curtsey from the brunette twins. “Give the keys to the Harbor Patrol Chief, if you would. He might want to search for more files.” Overman bowed in return. “And you don’t have to call me ‘Sheriff’ all the time. Every so often, I get to be Blake Overman to the wife and friends.”

Sara looked up from her prisoner. “Thanks for the friendship, sir, but this seems like ‘Sheriff Overman’ time. You get to be Mr. Blake over a bowl of Mizz Maggie’s ice cream when we’re done punching out buttheads and bad guys.”

Archie left the building for several minutes while the girls kept the agents busy being still. The three sets of twins compared the various techniques for quick takedowns, with or without injury to the opponent.

Blake and Ed just listened in fascination. Six teenaged girls, none over 95 pounds, none over five feet tall, were calmly chatting about how to destroy an enemy like other girls would talk about what to wear to school. Blake said. “These girls are very good, very, very good.”

Sherry, noticing the men’s attention, said quietly, “The funny thing is SuLing is better than they are. And Phil is so much better than any of them it’s spooky. What you saw at the dock on the island was about half-speed.”

Archie returned with a box of files. “They were holding out after all, Sheriff. Appears they were sharing nothing. I found pictures, prints and last known locations of no fewer than fifty persons. This could have ended weeks ago. Perhaps we should put these two in protective custody until we can figure the game they are playing.”

The Sheriff ordered a deputy to cuff the agents and leave them on the floor. He sent another to the squad car for his laptop. He was not a happy man.

Phil was apoplectic. “You mean we do not have to be bait? That the ‘Mad Momma’ and ‘Honey Bee II’ did not have to sink? That the Wilkins and Mr. Clement were injured for nothing?” He advanced on the agents with murder in his eyes.

SuLing put a dagger to each agent’s throat. “You are very close to the end. Have you made peace with your deity? If Phil decides you need to be dead, I will save him the effort. I will not look back. Pay attention, your fate is in the balance.”

The six twins surrounded him. “Cool down, Phil, find your center. We can’t do it like this. We have to do it right. Dead people can’t talk. You can have them later. Calm down. The kids don’t need to see this.” This and more came from different voices until he cooled to a mere fury.

Somewhat calmed, Phil saw SuLing and the daggers. “I haven’t decided, sweetie, but thanks for the gesture. Maybe we will kill one each to appease karma. Innocents deserve justice.”

SuLing smiled. “That seems fair.” The agents lost bladder control. “Good thing you’re on a mat, gentlemen. I wouldn’t want the floor to be stained while you marinate in your fear.”