Section 23

In the bathroom, Phil, Melody, Zina, Willy and Traci polished themselves and each other to a fine sheen, before having an excellent breakfast with the other girls. Conversation consisted of their ‘official’ version of the two long boats. The new and improved ‘Devil’s Darling’ was eagerly anticipated. It sucked being on the island with no way off.

“We have the new boats and Traci’s johnboat. Why can’t we get around?” Lanie wanted to know.

“I can carry three at the most. It would take eleven trips to get us to the bus. The new boats don’t have their registry numbers painted on yet, so some newbie Coastie or Game Warden could stop us. We can beat the citation, but why waste the time?” Traci answered. “I washed ashore Wednesday night. All we have done is fight assholes, dodge bullets, rescue shipwreck victims, appear in court and sleep in a high school gym. Well, on the positive side, I did get my twat shaved by a dagger, got fucked twice, gained a new family and did a little shopping, but aside from that, this summer break has involved too many people in uniform for my taste.”

“I agree. We desperately need to cut back on the uniforms, and the reasons making them necessary.” Polly giggled, “Except for the shopping part, of course.”

“We can always order by phone and have it delivered to the Lola side of the sound. The idea of riding naked at night on the ‘Darling’ to the boathouse is so naughty it makes me hot.” Traci admitted. “I traveled topless a few times when I was almost sure no one could see. I thought my nipples would squeeze off they were so hard.”

“You must be thinking about it now.” Bonnie reached over and twisted both sharply. You can hang anchors from those cute little boobs.”

Traci had a little orgasm on the spot. “I’ve been on the edge since Phil won’t let me cover up until time for company. It’s so weird getting crazy hot because he made me stay naked.”

“Not so, naked girl. You wanted to exhibit your bare titties to strangers; otherwise you would have put clothes on. Phil simply told you what you couldn’t tell yourself. He knows what you need. You needed to be told what you really wanted.” Karen said, “And so here you are, soaking the seat, coming at the thought of public exposure.”

“Speaking of hanging anchors, watch this.” April blurted. “Big Bro, pull your chair back. I need some dick-sucking room.”

Phil, hard as nails from Traci’s confessions, scooted away from the table as his sister kneeled and inhaled his rod. The other girls watched with curiosity.

Satisfied he was hard enough, April straddled his lap and dropped around his cock. They both moaned. “Damn, you’re tight, Sis. Mom had the right idea. I should have been fucking both of you years ago.”

“No talk, bro. Stand up.” She hung around his neck and waist as he stood, driving his rigid dick as deep as she could take it. Grinning insanely, she dropped her legs straight down and loosened her grip around her brother’s neck, effectively allowing Phil’s dick to carry most of her weight. The grin turned into something between determination and ecstasy, but still quite insane.

April’s clit was pressed into his pubic hair as she rocked her hips to and fro, the pressure of the wet friction driving her higher and higher. As her body seized in a monster orgasm, Phil kept his sister from falling backward with a firm grip on her titties, as he resumed his seat. Sally and Sara lifted their marginally conscious half-sister off her brother’s unit and helped her to the shower.

May took April’s place on Phil’s cock. “Up, Bro. Time to hang another anchor.” She proceeded to act and react precisely like her sister, down to the last squeal.

Big Brother unplugged her, letting Bonnie and Connie escort their cousin to the bathroom. Phil, himself on the edge, drove deeply into a very wet and ready Karen who was bent over the table waiting, smiling over her shoulder. Five minutes or so later, they came together in a righteous display of sensory excess. They headed for the clean up together also.

Zina, laughing her ass off, said, “And that, girls, is how you hang an anchor on Swenson!”

Karen shouted from the bathroom, “That is how you clean and stow the equipment. I’m beginning to like the nautical life.”

The Fates were biding their time and allowed the captain and crew to be dressed in time to receive Mel, Joey, Beanie and the ‘Devil’s Darling’.

Mel refused payment for the minor repairs, improvements and general tune-ups. “Honestly, we put more time than materials into this job. Tweaking your basic design by adding new hydroplanes we made ourselves, a few bolts, some extra parts we had lying around and hydraulics isn’t that big a deal compared to the advertising boost we get by being your preferred marina. Besides, you and your crew spend more time in public service than we do in keeping you mobile. It’s our contribution to the cause.”

“The ‘Darling’ rocks the harbor now. Phil, this boat is a focal point. It’s a symbol of our oldest values: neighbors watching out for neighbors, not backing down from a tough opponent and doing the right thing on land or sea. How many people will see this craft and remember the ways the community stepped up to defend our homes.” Joey detailed, “Core Sound has a naval militia of hard-nosed shrimpers and fishermen. You had the Episcopal Candy Stripers loading magazines in a firefight at the high school. You have the County Sheriff, the Harbor Patrol and the Coast Guard working for the common good instead of fussing over who has jurisdiction over Cape Lookout.”

Beanie cracked up. “Their biggest problem is having to deal with Commodore Otway.”

“Of course the State Medical Examiner is a little put out. They have to sort out the debris from our good work.” Mel laughed. “Benny and Baxter want us to install hard points for machine gun mounts on their working boats. I told them to get permission from the Wildlife Resources Commission.”

“Irene is going to say harsh things about you, Mel.” Phil cautioned, “Archie, on the other hand, is going to laugh his butt off.”

“Speaking of Irene, did she get the titles and registration numbers for the new boats?”

“Everything went smooth as glass. She even notified your insurance agent so the boats are covered at showroom value. The papers are in the storage compartment by the helm.”

The friends talked a while longer until Joey, Beanie and Mel had to take their second boat back to town. Most of the girls offloaded and moved the supplies from the chandler to the cabin. The twins, all six of them, looked the ‘Darling’ over, checking the improvements.

“Phil, the dials are different and so is the radar screen. You better scope this out.” Marcie called as the marina men pulled away. He did the ‘scoping’ and whistled.

“Seems Mel and company did more than tweak. The sonar and radar are just shy of military grade, way better than the instruments I had. The mast is taller. Look at the speed indicator. They redlined it at 60 knots under load. Holy Crap! What the hell did he do to the outboards?”

April answered from the stern. “They’re mounted different. Looks like they can stay at the same place relative to the water no matter how high we ride the planes. See the hydraulic pistons on the mounting plate? Gotta be a depth sensor somewhere.”

“The props are bigger, too. Same pitch, bigger bite. Phil, is there a power meter up there?” May asked. “There has to be a way to manage acceleration against engine load.” The Swensons knew the boat inside and out.

“Yeah, sis. It’s an LED bar graph by the tachometer. Doesn’t appear to be a governor, just a warning.” He grinned. “Mel and Beanie are sneaky but thorough. After the Forensics techs leave, how about we take this beast for a cruise on the big sound?”

Sherry found the pressure washer so she and her sisters made certain there was no bad guy trace on the dock. The three Singers were packing the machine in the Gator when the CSIs arrived.

Phil answered questions, not really lying, but not telling the whole truth. Fortunately, the techs were more interested in gathering evidence from the two longboats. The lead scientist noted what might be a bullet scratch on a gunwale while dusting for prints. “I think the original occupants were involved in the nastiness on the sound. We either have their remains already or they are fish food. No one in my office really cares one way or the other. At least we have some DNA, photos and prints; if they are in the system we’ll know who not to mourn.” She made an evil smile. “Enjoy your new boats, Mr. Swenson. Ain’t salvage great?”

The techs helped put the final punctuation on the affair by putting the new registration numbers on the longboats. Somewhere along the way, they changed from detached professionals to friendly neighbors. Funny how that happened.

All things must come to an end. However, the visit by the techs took its jolly time. But the CSIs found nothing fruitful to further scenically investigate, so they packed it in and motored back to HQ.

The girls remaining flew back to the cabin, returning to the dock quickly with coolers full of picnic goodies and the other girls. Casually buttoned sailorette suits were the uniform of the day. First Mates May and April lined the crew in rows of ten, brought them to attention, shouting in unison, ‘Devil’s Darling’ crew reporting for duty, Sir. Permission to board?”

“Granted. Don your safety gear and weapons. Specialists get to your stations and check your equipment. Ninja Marines, prepare to secure the dock and cast off.”

Marcie handed him his hat as she took the communications seat. The Professors and Traci were at the stern overseeing the engines. The lines were coiled and stowed. Phil lit the outboards and eased back and away from the mooring. “Marcie, drop the island shield.” Pointing to a switch on the radar panel. She flipped the toggle. He said, “Our false image is off. The world sees the real island. The new screen is the SingerSat image overlaid by our own radar sweep. Tell me if you see a blip in any color but red, yellow, blue or green.”

“What color is who?” Marcie adjusted her headset and belted in.

“Everything is identified by transponders or GPS beacons. Red is law enforcement. Yellow is civilian or commercial. Blue is Federal or military. Green is private, armed security. See the combinations? The blue dots with a red centers are the Coast Guard. We are green with a blue dot. The ‘Devil’s Darling’ is affiliated with SwenPharm, Singer Security and I am a defense contractor with Top Secret clearance.”

“So that means we are private and armed with Federal connections. Easy to learn. Just the basic categories and extrapolate the combos. Red with a blue dot would be the FBI or US Marshal Service, right?”

“Got it in one!” he agreed. “White is a an unidentified object with no transponder or an identified object out of place. If yellow get too close to the Coast Guard Station without asking, it turns white. Rest the cursor over a blip on the screen. There, see the numbers? HP001 is Archie Taverner. CGHuron is Capt. Hardcastle. DEL601 is Delta Air Flight 601.”

April and May came up from the rear and took seats. “Our eyes are a little more sophisticated than the usual. We know who is coming and if they have permission. If we had been monitoring the base station, you would have seen the Forensics team go from red to white when they came within a half mile of our island.” April said, “Phil set the alarm conditions this morning so the klaxons would not blow on red. I reset the system when I left the cabin with everyone else.”

“First Mate May reports all crew is locked, loaded and buckled in. Can we go now?”

“OK, OK, already.” He keyed the radio. ““Devil’s Darling’ to any Coast Guard vessel. Devil’s Darling’ to any Coast Guard vessel. Do you copy?”

“CG Station Rodanthe. Ensign Bright on watch. What can we do for you Capt. Swenson? Over”

“Request permission to test repairs to the ‘Devil’s Darling’. Are we clear through Pamlico Sound for a high speed run? Over”

“Traffic light on straight line from Cedar Island to Swan Quarter Slip. Be nice to the ferryboats. Observe rights-of-way. Beware of debris east Hobucken. Keeping eyes on you, Capt. Swenson. Permission to let her rip. Over.”

“Thank you, Rodanthe Station. ‘Devil’s Darling’ out.” He rotated the boat north-northeast and eased away. He pushed the throttles to half speed, holding course until they were past Cedar Island.

Phil rechecked the crew. “Girls, are we ready to fly? It will be a little bumpy at first, but will settle as we come to speed.”

“Don’t talk. Drive.” Sara shouted. “It’s time we had some fun.”

He slowly increased the speed until the ‘Darling’ began to ride the hydroplanes, smoothing as predicted. Traci reported the outboard mounts moving to keep the screws at depth. Marcie saw a clear path ahead, some yellow dots yielding the way. Several red and blue blips were running parallel, apparently curious to see what Phil was doing. He pushed it to 3/4 ahead, the speed steady at 55 knots.

“Rodanthe Station to the ‘Devil’s Darling. We have you at 55+ knots, due north. Confirm your helm settings. Over.”

“‘Darling’ to Rodanthe. We read 55 at 3/4 ahead, Mr. Bright. Have we permission to go full ahead? Over.”

“Permission granted, Devil’s Darling’. You’re getting some major respect here, Capt. Swenson. Over.”

“Going to full ahead. 60 knots, 65, 70. Holding steady at 73 knots, Mr. Bright. Do you confirm? Over.”

“Rodanthe telemetry confirms. What are you running, ‘Darling’? Over.”

“Swenson to Bright. 900 plus horses on a twin hulled hydroplaned purpose built 15x50 low profile flattop. We like it. Over.”

“Rodanthe to Capt. Swenson. Everybody likes it. ‘Huron’ requests you slow to subsonic speed and investigate debris field located five miles hard east of Mouse Harbor buoy. ‘Blue Eyes’ out of Norfolk failed to make port in Oriental. Over.”

“Swenson to Bright. We’re on it. Advise ‘Huron’ this might be family. If this is who I suspect, it’s personal. We will not stand down. Swenson out.”

“May. Get me Nick St. John on a secure channel. April, call Dad and Mom on satphone conference. Now. Marcie, locate and highlight all Singer assets and white blips.” He keyed the intercom. “Sherry. Up arm the Marines. Crew we are at DefCon 2 until further notice. Traci to the helm.”

“What’s up, Phil?” She was scared.

“You know Tim and Susan Perry, the couple who find lost potentials, right?” Traci nodded. “They just adopted six little girls, 5, 7, 9, 11,12 and 13 year olds and were bound for Scarboro to have Mom check them over.”

May cut in, handing him a phone. “The debris field is where their boat, ‘Blue Eyes’ passed through on the way to Oriental. The boat is missing. Tell the others.”

“Phil here. Is that you, Nick?”

“Yeah, Phil. You heard about the ‘Blue Eyes’?”

“On the way to suspicious flotsam out from Mouse Harbor reported by the Coast Guard. Twelve miles away and making 74 knots.”

“OK. You are less than twenty out. I have a Blackhawk on floats inbound to rendezvous at the sight. Retrieve and secure survivors. I’ll conference with Adam and the Secretary. Keep this line free.” He growled. “You get the family notice honors. Your Moms are going to redline.”

“Tell me about it. I hope this is a mistake. If someone has hurt Family, there will be a massacre. Swenson out.”

“Girls, get ready for open water rescue. Two adults and six small children. Blankets and energy food.”

Minutes later, Phil dropped to 1/4 speed and slipped into the floating trash. He saw six sets of hands waving frantically off the starboard bow. “We have six souls. Pull them in quick and send to Sherry for triage.”

The girls worked like a practiced team and had six frightened little girls on board, wrapped in blankets in a very short time. He spotted a life preserver floating ahead. His heart sank when he read the name. “Emily, Zina. Hook that ring and anything else you can reach. May, take the helm and move close where they tell you.”

April gave him another phone. “Hi, Mom and Dad. Hold for a moment and listen.” He went back to where the six wet girls were being comforted by the sailorettes. “Who can tell me who you are and what happened?”

“I’m Jeannie Sorenson, seven going on eight. We were going with Tim and Susie to see a doctor friend of theirs when some bad men stopped our boat. They shot Tim and Susie, tied them to the anchor and threw them in the water. One slapped Margie when she tried to make them stop.”

The oldest girl with the badly bruised cheek picked up the story. “I’m Margie Pappas. They set the boat on fire and left us there. BeeJay made us jump overboard before the gas tank exploded. We got away just in time. There was a boom and the boat was gone.”

“Traci, call your Dad. Get him out of class if you have to. Tell him someone targeted the family. They murdered Susan and Tim Perry and left the six girls to die on a burning boat. He needs to call Dennis Swenson. Have your Mom call Claire Swenson or Carmine Blue Bear.”

“Mom, Dad. You get that?” Phil asked.

Dennis answered. “Call Abrams now. Give him access to the Mom file and ask him to step away. The Moms are going ‘Scorched Earth’ on this one. They will not stop until it’s over. Have him contact Adam as soon as possible. Max will deal with DoD. I’ll talk to State.”

“Mom. Nick is arranging immediate transport of the girls to you. You will love them. Three had green eyes until they talked about the incident. They went very dark. The eyes of the oldest and youngest went flat black and the one named Jeannie Sorenson’s glowed red like yours.”

“I love them already. You get back to the island with the girls. I’m gathering the Network. We may need a focus point and you have the strongest single group right now.”