The Gulf and the Gift by Rick Beck    The Gulf and the Gift
Part Six of The Gulf Series
by Rick Beck
Chapter Eight
"Survival of the Fittest"

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The Gulf and the Gift Chapter Seven
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Young Adult
Drama

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Saturday evening Harry's car delivered him to the front door of Hogates down near the waterfront.

"Yes, Sir," the maƮtre de said.

"Mr Alexander's table," Harry said.

"Yes, Sir. Come right this way."

Bob stood when Harry reached the table.

"Harry, I want you to meet John Carl. He'll be heading the extraction team. Three other men will be with him. John is my most trusted lieutenant. John, Harry. He'll have the information you need."

John shook his hand with the same cordiality as Bob.

Harry understood John wasn't supposed to know he was having dinner with a senator. As far as Harry was concerned, he was never here with these men and this meeting never took place, but since he had to eat, Hogates was the right place to do it.

Bob raised his hand as Harry took his seat after John held his chair. A minute later a bourbon and branch arrived. The three men made a little small talk. John Carl and Bob Alexander were clones. Their suits were identical. Both had buzz haircuts. Their posture was perfect, and they both hung on Harry's every word.

"Ivan is essential in the cove. It's my home and he's an important part of our commerce. He got himself mixed up with the Company back during Vietnam. He's been home five years, and they have him under contract, but it's bogus. They framed him to get him to sign up for a job they claim only he can do."

"You do know the Company is no one to fuck with, Harry," Bob said. "They play hardball. They play for keeps."

"And what can I expect you to play, Bob?"

Bob smiled.

"John has experience with Company operations. It's why I picked him for the mission. He knows their moves. He's as smart a tactician as I know. He'll outflank the kind of men who have Ivan. That isn't the question at hand," Bob said, stopping there.

Harry was comfortable with these men. The exuded confidence and they certainly looked the part.

"The question is?" Harry asked.

"Tell me about Ivan. What kind of man is he. When we show up to extricate him, how's he going to react. I mean there is no way to get word to him that we're the Calvary."

"Say, 'Harry sent me. That's all you need to say. He expects me to do something by this time, but I couldn't move until I had men I could trust in place. A man in my position can't afford to get caught with his knickers down. So I'm late in doing what I should have done months ago."

John Carl smiled.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence, Harry. We do fit your description. Anything else you think we should know about him?"

"I told you, Ivan worked for the Company for five years. He knows how they operate. I think he'll hold his own. If you want to know about his ability to handle himself, he drew his gun for me when the subject of his ability came up shortly after he returned to the cove. I can frankly say, I've never seen anything like it. I nearly pissed myself. I didn't even see him go for the gun, and it was pointed directly at my chest."

John smiled.

"Sounds like my kind of guy," Bob said.

"I was about to say the same thing," John said.

"Ivan tends to be better than good at things he decides to do. He'll hold his own if there's trouble."

"Good to know," Bob said. "We're going in cold. There will be four men counting John. This is a mission that's right up his alley. Because Ivan won't know we're coming, we'll need time to set up and take the lay of the land. We leave nothing to chance, Harry. We are careful. We move after we have all our pieces in place and ready to go. There is no way to know how the Company team will react. We have experience of working for the CIA. I've never approved a mission opposing them. They are the unknown, but once we move, we'll take Ivan out of there. We'll have all the equipment together and be ready to roll in five days."

"Mode of transportation?" Harry asked.

"North American airlines 747. We've already got clearance for Phnom Penh. All we need is a date and time of arrival. I'll send an advance man on a commercial flight tomorrow. He'll get a read on where Ivan is and any routine he can detect. It'll help us to get into position faster. Once I hear back from him, we're ready to pull the trigger as soon as you say go."

On Sunday, Harry called Peg to see if there was anything he needed to know before the new week started.

"Clay left you a message," Peg said.

"I'll pass. Anything else?" Harry asked. "No, tell him Ivan will be home soon. That ought to get him off my back."

"You need to hear his message."

"OK. Shoot," harry said.

"Popov's going after Ivan."

"What?"

"He said, 'When Harry calls. Tell him Popov is going to get Ivan."

"Son of a bitch. Give me the Olson's number."

"Harry, don't do anything you'll regret."

"The Olson's number now, Peg."

Harry had trouble dialing the phone he was so angry. He'd spent six weeks getting this deal set up, and Clay talked Popov into going after Ivan. He was fit to be tied.

"Yes, Mrs O, it's the senator. Clay wouldn't happen to be handy, would he?"

"At Ivan's. Do you happen to have that number?"

The phone kept ringing and Clay had two pillows over his head trying to ignore the sound.

He finally reached for the receiver, snatching it out of the cradle..

"What?" he yelled.

"Don't you yell at me, Clayton Olson. What the hell have you done?" Harry yelled into the phone.

"I'm trying to sleep. Do you mind calling at a decent hour."

"It's ten Sunday morning. What do you mean Popov is going to get Ivan. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"What I've done is get tired of waiting for you to do something. Popov wants to go. Ivan and him are in business."

"Last night I finalized a deal with a military contractor to go get Ivan. You've fucked that all to hell, and I'm paying $5,000 a week for their services. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"You should have told me," Clay said.

"Call Popov off. I can't explain a Russian sea captain showing up in the middle of their attempt to extract Ivan," Harry said.

"He's pretty determined. He thinks you're a bit slow on the draw too, Harry," Clay said.

"If you weren't as big as you are, I'd put you over my knee and beat hell out of you, Clayton Olson. You've done some dumb things in your life, but this takes the cake. How could you?"

"Harry, how's Ivan going to know who these guys are?"

"They'll take their time moving, once they get on scene. I've got a headache. Do you have Popov's number?"

No. I wouldn't give it to you if I had it. I've waited long enough for you, Senator. Popov's going to get Ivan. I trust Popov to do what he says he's going to do. I don't know the men you've gotten yourself involved with," Clay said, hearing the loud click in his ear.

Clay looked at the phone. He shrugged, hanging it up.

"That went well," Clay said.

By the time Clay got to the Dive shop, it was after noon. Taggart wanted clams and it's just what Clay decided he wanted. They sat eating clams together and Clay decided to go to the lab to see if he could get some work done. Nothing at all was happening, and now, well, too many cooks might spoil a broth, but you couldn't have too many gunmen if you were taking a guy away from the Company.

Clay went to the lab to get caught up on the reports he hadn't written. His mind was fresh and unusually clear. Things had seemed this rosy in ages. After catching up on his reports, Clay realized how hungry he was. He could go to the shop and go get JK's to share with Taggart, or maybe dinner at Mama's table would be the ticket. He'd had enough fried food to last him for a while.

It was nearly dinner time when Clay got back to the shop. Two customers were there wanting sodas and chips, and an evening breeze was coming off the Gulf. Clay couldn't decide if he wanted another go at JK's or if he'd go home for one of Mama's meals.

"I'm going to go eat dinner at my house, if you'd like to skip JK's for a change, I'll bring you something from Mama's kitchen," he said.

I love your Mama's cooking. One of her dinners would be nice," Tag said, cocking his ear to one side. "You hear that?"

"I don't hear anything," Clay said.

"Senator's home. That's the Beachcraft."

A minute later the engines on the Beachcraft could be plainly heard.

"He's not due to come home until August recess," Tag said. "Mama told me that last week."

"I think something may have come up to change his plans," Clay said, knowing what it was. "I think I'll go take the Sea Lab out for some fresh air. I haven't taken her out since yesterday."

"What have you done that brought the senator home, Clayton?"

"Did I mention Popov is going after Ivan?" Clay said.

"Is that why the senator is home? I'd think he'd be happy he didn't need to do it."

"That would be my guess. He wasn't too pleased this morning. He threatened to spank me," Clay said.

"I'd pay to see that," Tag said. "You aren't still going, are you?"

"No. I'd be in the way. I'd probably get myself shot. Once Popov decides what to do, it's best to stay out of his way."

"Unless you're a senator," Tag said. "You sometimes forget he's a senator, Clayton."

"No, I don't forget. I ignore it. He told me, 'You knew me before I went to congress. I'm just Harry when I'm home."

It took Harry a half hour to get to the shop.

"Coffee, Harry?" Clay asked. "You come home to fire me?"

"I can't fire you, Clayton. Yes, on the coffee."

"I need to go talk to Popov," Harry said. "I need to head him off. I've got a contract with the Minute Men to go get Ivan. They're professionals."

"You aren't still mad at me?" Clay asked.

"Yes, I'm still mad at you, but I considered the source. I'm sorry I couldn't get this done faster, Clay. I know it's hard on you. I've been working on it, but a senator can't just go out and hire a military contractor to go do some business for him," Harry said. "I had to be careful if I wanted to actually get Ivan home."

"You're pretty calm about this entire deal," Clay said.

"I'll reason with Popov. He's an intelligent man. He'll realize that it's better for Ivan if he steps away," Harry said.

"I don't want him to realize that. I want Popov to go get Ivan. I don't know these guys you hired. They don't know Ivan. Popov does."

Harry didn't lose his temper. He would do what he needed to do and Clay would get out of his way. The situation was about Ivan and not Clay or Popov.

The phone rang twice.

"Cove Campgrounds, Tag here," Tag said.

"Harry? He's right here."

"Where's right here? Is this a joke? Who is this?"

Harry took the phone out of Tag's hand.

"Bob, Harry, we've got a problem."

The phone call lasted a few seconds.

Harry tossed the phone to Tag before picking up his coffee and taking a long pull on it.

"I didn't leave a bottle of bourbon down here did I?"

"You definitely didn't bring your bourbon down here," Tag said.

"Give me the phone," Harry ordered.

"Algie, it's me. Bring me a bottle of bourbon, branch, and a bottle of knob hill. Bring me a cooler with ice in it. Thanks."

"What did he say?" Clay asked, mildly interested.

"He'll be here in the morning," Harry said. "He is having meetings with my team at the moment. They're a go for Wednesday."

"What's he going to do here?" Clay asked.

"He's a military contractor. Shoot you, shoot Popov, shoot me for all I know. He's got a plan. He doesn't sound too happy that I just flushed it down the toilet. He didn't sound too happy."

"Why all that booze?" Clay asked.

"I need a drink. He'll come here tomorrow afternoon. He wants to see the shop. Get a feel for Ivan's domain. Like I said, he might want to shoot someone. You never know with military types."

"Good thing I just scheduled a dive for tomorrow," Clay said.

"No, in particular he wants to meet you," Harry said.

"Maybe I should schedule a dive," Tag said, turning the page of the book he was reading.

"What did he say he wanted to do here?" Clay asked.

"He said, 'We'll improvise.'"

"What the hell does that mean?" Clay asked.

"How the hell should I know. I'm not a military contractor."

Bob Alexander arrived in a four door Chevy at two fifteen Monday afternoon. He wore a pair of black slacks with creases sharp enough to cut bread. He wore a baby blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His shoulders went from here to there and back. His forearms were like Popeye's. You could see your face in his shoes.

John Carl was at Bob's side. He wore the same black slacks and a very green shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. He had the same shoulders and forearms as big as Bob's.

Tag got them deck chairs. Bob introduced John after Harry introduced Bob. They had a cup of coffee and made small talk.

Clay was there upon request. Bob Alexander had asked that Clay be present for the sit down talk.

Tag had the urge to go somewhere, anywhere. Harry did most of the talking. Bob and John drank Knob Hill while listening. Harry sat at Ivan's gigantic mahogany desk. Bob and John sat in front of Harry. Clay sat at the side of the desk. Tag stood behind the counter not reading the book he had been reading.

"What kind of man is Popov?" Bob asked.

"Defected from the Ruskies, maybe thirty years ago. He set up the fishing fleet with Ivan's grandfather. He's a big man," Harry said. "Tag, tell Bob about that mobster. You tell it better than I do. Popov told the FBI where to go, didn't he."

Bob Alexander laughed.

"I think I like this guy," Bob said.

John got up and took his coffee to the huge window at the front of the shop. He looked out over the cove and did a scan from left to right, stopping with his eyes on the boat ramp.

"Kramer, Special Agent Kramer, came storming in to take charge. Popov told him, if he stayed out of the way, he'd bring in Big Carlos."

"I do like this guy," Bob said.

John laughed before sitting beside Bob again.

"Captain Tito said, and they knew the mobster was hiding on a boat somewhere along the coast. Big Carlos tried to run, Tito guided Popov's trawler up beside the slower boat, and Popov jumped from one moving boat to the other. Big Carlos shot Popov one time before Popov took him down. He was rather pissed off the guy shot him."

"Roy Rogers meets Captain Hook," John said.

Clay laughed.

"How do I meet Popov? If he's going on this mission. I want to meet Roy Rogers before I approve of him joining our little party."

Clay started out with the hairs on his neck standing up, but he liked Bob Alexander. What you saw was what you got. He was a straight forward man with a military disposition. He was easy to understand and he looked the part. Clay wanted Popov to go along, but it no longer bothered him that Ivan wouldn't know these guys.

Harry and Bob walked outside. It was July in the cove and it was hot and humid. They stood on the ramp, looking down the beach.

"Ivan built the beach. It was a terrible tangle of brush and brambles. He borrowed a contractor's grader, cleared out the tangle of undergrowth. He'd already made a deal with a company that was hired to dredge out the mouth of a nearby river. Ivan took dozens of truck loads and used the grader to create the beach."

"Impressive. Looks like it's been here forever," Bob said. "The campground his idea? I wouldn't mind coming here to camp."

"Bring your family," Harry said.

"John's my family. Yes, he'd love camping here. John saved my life in Vietnam. Carried me to an LZ two miles away. I'd have died if he hadn't done that. We've been together since those times."

"I see," Harry said, not sure he understood together.

"This is Cove Enterprises. Popov is Ivan's business partner."

"I see," Bob said. "How do I meet with Popov? We need to get that out of the way today."

Let's walk on the pier. If some of his fisherman are out, I'll get one to go tell him we need to talk to him. Clay says he's on his boat."

"I want to talk to him there. I want to be on his turf. I can get a lot more if we do that."

As they walked, Lam came out on deck as they passed.

"Good afternoon, Senator. You home campaigning?" Lam asked.

"No, I'm here to talk to Popov. Would you like to go tell him?"

Bob Alexander began speaking Vietnamese. Lam answered with a look of surprise coming onto his face. They discussed fishing, the weather, and Popov. Harry listened to the flow of the conversation. It was pleasant and lyrical.

"We'll have tea with Lam. I asked to meet his family, and then he'll take us to Popov's boat."

You do work fast," Harry said as Bob stepped onto the deck of Lam's houseboat.

In a minute two women, a man, and several kids came out on deck. A couple of minutes later a steaming pot of tea arrived. The Vietnamese language flowed along with the tea. The people were delighted that Bob had come calling. Few Americans could communicate as well as Bob did.

Bob spoke of places that everyone knew. He went to Vietnam to fight the Commies. He'd left with a great deal of fondness for the Vietnamese people. They treated him with respect and didn't blame him for what was done to their country. Bob wasn't so sure they should be so forgiving, but he was glad they were.

After a long conversation and some food to go with the tea, Bob stood and said it was time to get busy. Lam moved his small boat in place to take Harry and Bob to Popov's trawler.

Bob sat rigid as Lam rowed the hundred yards. By the time they were halfway, Popov stood on deck, watching the small boat approaching.

When the boat stopped, Popov said, "Come aboard, Gentlemen."

Once on deck, Harry introduced Bob to Popov.

"Senator, to what am I owing this honor?"

"Bob is here to talk to you, Popov. He wanted to see your boat."

Popov eyed the military bearing of the man. He'd been face to face with many a Soviet soldier from time to time and Bob Alexander reminded him of a Russian soldier in a Sunday dress shirt.

"Come. Lam, thank you. I take them back."

Harry sat in one of the easy chairs. Bob stood until Popov invited him to sit in the other. In a minute, Popov moved a table between the chairs, and he pulled up a chair for him to sit in. He also brought the Vodka and glasses that sparkled from a good scrubbing.

Popov poured each full.

As quick as they all tossed the Vodka back, Popov banged his glass down at the same instant as Bob. Harry picked his glass back up and banged it for good measure.

Popov smiled and poured the glasses full to overflowing. Maybe a drop or two escaped before the glasses were emptied.

"Popov, we need to talk about you're going to get Ivan."

"Nothing to say. I've waited long enough. I told Clayton, I go get Ivan. I go get Ivan. He is partner. He needs to be taking care of the business. I go get."

"Would you mind some company, Captain?" Bob asked.

Popov seemed amused as he banged down his glass before filling them all again. He'd wondered what brought these men to his boat.

"You are company?"

"My men are. I'm a military contractor. Harry hired me last week to go get Ivan. If you'll join my team, we can cut through the crap. Ivan will immediately know that we are there to extract him. I'm not going to blow smoke, Captain Popov. It's no sure thing. We are dealing with people who are trained to control a situation. They will not like us taking Ivan away from them. The nice part is, I don't care what they like. I work for Harry. He hired me to go get Ivan. It's what I intend to do. Join us."

Popov poured the glasses full, but he didn't toss this one back. He was all set to do a solo, but this was definitely a more interesting proposition. They could avoid violence if they were on the same team. It did not go back on what he told Clay he'd do.

Both Popov and Bob tossed the fifth glass of Vodka back, banging the glass down as Harry watched the ritual.

"Is Done," Popov said.

*****

On Monday, Ivan was seated in the tea house. Roland sat where he could see him. Lance was back at the handler's table, after Tyson gave him a couple of days off to unwind. Their team was limited, and even if he didn't want to use Lance at the tea house, Tyson had no choice. He had no use for the testy operative.

Ivan was still waiting, but it was different by Monday. Ken Ho knew what Ivan wanted him to know. He'd known Ivan was there for some time. Ken Ho's men were everywhere inside his city. They'd reported on Ivan's return the day after he came back.

Ken Ho wasn't well, and he intended to have Ivan brought to him when he was well enough. He'd sent his son to let Ivan know he knew he was there. Ken Ho understood the message Jon Ho brought back to him. The nature of what was being prepared as a reception was a surprise, but men had tried to ambush General Kenji before.

Ken Ho was alerted to the problem and that meant he'd need a plan to take Ivan out of the tea house and brought to him. He wanted to know more about why Ivan was there, and who it was that wanted to harm him. He wanted to be sure they could talk in a safe place.

Ken Ho would never have come waltzing into the tea house without having a good idea of who was inside. The general's men kept an eye on anywhere he needed to go. Few things went on in his city that he wasn't aware of. He'd been aware of Ivan but his illness kept him away.

There was no way for Ivan to know what Ken Ho's next move would be, but there would be a next move. Ivan did what he came to do. Ken Ho knew men were gunning for him. It was Ken Ho's move. Ivan also knew Ken Ho's men wouldn't come in with guns blazing.

He was left to wait, drink tea, and see what the next move was.

*****

Bob Alexander invited Clay to take a walk with him.

This was not in Clay's game plan. He reluctantly went. Bob walked him back down the pier to the rear of Sea Lab. John Carl walked behind them.

"Show me your operating center. I've heard you speak. I have a son at LSU. He invited me to come hear you speak," Bob said.

"You don't mind if John comes along. I'd like him to see your operation," Bob said.

Clay didn't know how he felt. Neither man appeared to be armed, and if Bob Alexander was angry enough to hurt him, well, Clay didn't feel like the man was dangerous to him. He could see where he might be dangerous to anyone he didn't like. There was a harnessed power that came with him. You could see it, you knew it was there, but that power remained at rest while he walked with Clay.

They started with the passageway, the equipment lockers, his lab, and they ended up on the bridge. Bob spent some time looking out at the cove.

"Why are we here?" Clay asked, once the conversation stopped.

"It's important that you know certain things. I know all about you. I know you and Ivan are a couple. I know about Ivan's history with the CIA. I know about your wife, your son, and I know what you do. There is something you need to know about me.

Bob Alexander turned and embraced John, They shared a passionate kiss and then they shared a second kiss.

"This is the man I love. We've been together since we were in Vietnam. Military men often find each other unexpectedly, while in dangerous circumstances. It's a kind of trust and loyalty lovers enjoy. Discovering an attraction to a man you're already loyal to can be revelatory. At least that's the way it worked out for John and me."

"I appreciate that. I do understand. Thank you both," Clay said.

"I will bring Ivan home to you," Bob said. "We can go back now. I need to make arrangements to come for Popov on Wednesday. My team will be leaving Wednesday evening from Tampa."

"You know you didn't need to do that. I was starting to trust you," Clay said.

"Yes, I did. You'll rest easier knowing I know what you feel. I will bring Ivan home to you, and I'll see to it he isn't bothered again."

"The senator is paying for that?" Clay asked.

"I'm being paid to bring Ivan home. The rest I'll do because it suits me, and I'm in a position to do what I say I'll do."

Clay was rarely taken by surprise concerning the nature of people he met. Bob's demonstration of love for John was eye opening.

What Robert Alexander knew was remarkable. His relationship with Ivan was no secret. They'd walked hand in hand on the beach along about sunset, until AIDS turned the conversation as mean as it had ever been concerning men in love.

Anyone running a check on his name, and his fame, would find Sunshine, Dylan, and the path he took to get here. Even so, how did Bob know how Clay would receive the exposure of facts that could ruin his business among the very men who employed him.

Bob said he did things because it suited him. Clay believed he did. What he'd need to do to get Ivan out alive would remain his secret, but Clay trusted him to do precisely what he said he'd do.

There were times when having an ally made things easier on you. This was one of those times for Clayton Olson.

*****


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

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