Hunter woke the next morning to the sound of giggling. He raised his head and then raised his right eyebrow as he watched Brice and Ethan do rock, paper, scissors at the end of his bed. He pushed the sheets down, propped himself up on two pillows and folded his hands neatly across his bare stomach.

"Sorry, boys. No sex before coffee. Brice and Ethan turned to Hunter and grinned. "Sorry to disappoint you two."

"Ah, you're no fun, mate," Ethan said with a giggle. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I'm sure. What I really need is coffee."

"You know that when in Britian, you should always do as us Brits do and have a nice cup of tea."

"We're not in the UK and coffee, please; rich, black, hot coffee."

"Haven't you heard that coffee will stunt yer growth? A growing boy needs his … milk," Ethan said with a wink.

"Ethan, I appreciate your hospitality more than you will ever know, but right now, I need coffee. It wakes me up, tastes good and warms my belly."

"I can think of something else that will do the same," Ethan said with a wink. Hunter grinned.

"I'm sure, Ethan. Thank you, but I think I'll pass. Right now, I'd like to have a private conversation with Brice. Would that be okay?" Ethan rolled out his bottom lip and pretended to flick a tear away from his eye, then giggled.

"Of course, that's fine. I'll just pop downstairs and have the staff prepare a proper English fry up, guaranteed to clog yer arteries. And, a large pot of coffee just for you yanks, even though it's appropriate to have a proper Yorkshire tea with a fry up. And after brekkie, we'll … have dessert." Ethan grinned a seductive grin at Hunter, then flitted out the door, pulling it quietly closed behind him.

Brice walked over to the bed and sat down. He reached out to grab Hunter's hand, but Hunter pulled back at the last second. Brice looked up with a frown. Then he took in Hunter's tortured expression and took in a deep breath.

"You still love him." It wasn't a question, but more of a matter-of-fact statement. Hunter slowly nodded.

"Despite all the hate speech and the punch in the nose, you still love him?" Brice asked carefully. Hunter couldn't look Brice in the eye but simply nodded again, weakly.

"I knew you two had a special connection when you first told me about him. You were so animated and you just lit up when you talked about him. I didn't want to believe it and I really wanted to have you for myself. I guess that was just me being selfish, but … I understand."

"Brice, I know what you are going through with your father. From what you told me, you'd rather be anywhere else than your island."

"Hunter, I when I first saw you, I thought you were here to save me from all the shit; all the shit that is my life. I hoped against hope that it was true. But, as I came to really know you, I slowly realized your heart belonged to someone else." A lone tear rolled down Hunter's face. "I will survive the wrath of my father, just not today. I can no more stand between you and Jesse any more than I can admit that Ethan is big butch brutal top." Hunter burst out laughing. "But you've got to admit, he's a real cutie." Hunter laughed again and nodded.

"Yes, he is very cute and perhaps, maybe, you two have a future together," Hunter said softly. Brice looked thoughtful for a moment and then smiled.

"Perhaps you are right and he is what I needed in my life all along," Brice said.

"How did you two meet? I know you're only a few miles apart, but it might as well be a hundred. Water and all that, ya know."

"I've got dear ol' dad to thank for that. He knows Ethan's father and we came to visit a few years back on daddy's fishing boat, ah, you know, the big ass yacht. Anyway, they shooed Ethan and me out of the room while they talked money, smoked hand rolled Cuban cigars and drank outrageously expensive Scotch. Believe it or not, but Ethan can look quite straight when he needs to, so neither of the dads suspected a thing while Ethan and I went up to his bedroom and gave each other a good seeing to. We've been visiting each other over summer vacation ever since." Hunter nodded.

"Convenient. So, you two were, ah, having fun right under your fathers' noses. That's funny. So, I guess you've known each other for quite some time then."

"Almost five years now."

"From what I've seen, and heard from the bedroom last night, you two seem to have chemistry together."

"Yeah, we do, but you've got to admit, we, meaning you and I, had chemistry too." Hunter nodded.

"Yes, we did. I thought you were what I needed and vice versa, but we were only fooling ourselves. Perhaps we already had what we needed in our lives but were either too blind or too stupid to see what was right before our eyes. Don't get we wrong Brice, you are quite the catch. You're handsome, I'm talking magazine model handsome, you're smart, witty plus you've got a shit pot load of money." Brice blushed under the compliments. "And then there's Ethan. He's cute in a boyish kind of way with his blond hair, his dimples and he's got a killer accent, not to mention he is quite well built. Come to think of it, I can see you two together. And you, after spending some time in Surry, you'd probably have a bit of a British accent. That would add to your appeal, Brice. Yeah, a British accent would do you good," Hunter said with a grin.

Brice leaned down and wrapped Hunter in a warm hug.

"Thank you. You will always be special to me and I want you to know you can call on me anytime and I will be there. You, Hunter Ward, will always hold an incredibly special place in my heart," Brice declared softly.

"Thank you, Brice. I love you like a brother."

"Now, what are we going to do about getting you and Jesse back together?"

* * * * *

Jesse Westphal followed his father from the commissary toward the commander's office. Something was up with the commander. It was rare for him to request the presence of Jesse in a somewhat formal meeting and that made Jesse anxious.

But Jesse felt a new sense of hope. His heart was no longer heavy with self-doubt. His father still loved him even after he admitted his love for Hunter. That gave Jesse renewed confidence that things would be okay. Father and son approached the commander's office and Jesse held his breath as his father knocked on the door.

"Enter." Max looked down at this son, smiled in reassurance, and opened the door.

"Max, Jesse, take a seat. We need to have a little discussion," directed the commander. Jesse's apprehension skyrocketed as he sat down and looked expectantly at gruff man behind the desk.

"Jesse, it has come to my attention that we need to get you and Hunter together so you two can talk." Jesse started to interrupt, but Commander Walsh held up his hand. "Teenage relationships are fine by me, but when guns get involved and people get shot, I have to put my foot down. Do you know of any way to contact Hunter?" Jesse shook his head.

"I've tried his cell but it goes straight to voicemail."

"I was afraid of that. You do have your cell phone on, right?" Jesse nodded patting his pocket. "Good and keep it charged up. Hunter may reach out to you." Jesse nodded once again, but there were some questions he needed answers to and Jesse slowly sat up in his seat.

"Why was he shot? I mean, what was going on that made people shoot at each other?" Jesse quietly asked. Commander Walsh let out a deep sigh.

"Sometimes people get too excited, I guess. You do remember me telling you about the radar system?" Jesse nodded. "Let's just say some of Lieutenant Dutton's men didn't want to lose that system and were doing what they thought best to keep it in their possession." Jesse slowly shook his head back and forth. That didn't sound right. There had to be more to this story.

"What they thought best? They thought it was best to shoot a kid? A kid that had been lost at sea?" Jesse was building up steam and his questions started becoming more pointed. "I understand about the radar, but to actually take a shot at a boy who made it through a storm with a dead captain is crazy. That makes no sense to me at all and somebody needs to held accountable. Just what the hell is going on here?"

"Jesse, calm down," Max said firmly to his son.

"Calm down? They shot Hunter and you want me to calm down?"

"Jesse, I'm not going to say it again. You need to get a grip and calm down. Remember where you are." Jesse abruptly jumped up from his seat.

"I know exactly where the hell I am!" he exclaimed to his father. Jesse then turned on the commander. "Hunter got shot and I want to know for a fact that he's okay. People don't get shot these days unless there's a damn good reason and I want to know what that is! Damn it! Your people shot the boy I love!" Jesse whirled around, slammed open the door and fled the commander's office leaving his father and the commander stunned.

Jesse ran to familiar territory, the commissary. It was where he waited each day for his father to return from his mission with news of Hunter. He noticed Ted Hagan sitting at a table and talking with, ah, was that Captain Turner's niece? Tears ran down his face from all the emotions that broke through the dam while in the commander's office. They also ran for the loss of Captain Turner and especially for what Hunter had to do. He made his way to the far side of the commissary and curled up on a couch.

Jesse knew his father and the commander were probably pissed at him right now, but damn it, he needed answers and 'doing what they thought best' just didn't cut it as an explanation. He wanted answers. He owed it to Hunter to find those answers. Jesse could only pray that Hunter was just wounded in the shootout and that he was alright.

* * * * *

Brice's question about getting Jesse back threw Hunter for a loop. He wanted the chance to talk with Jesse. He'd just never considered the actual 'how to' part of that equation.

"I've no idea, Brice. I know I want to see him again and talk with him about what Dan Dutton said about him being at the base every day. That sure doesn't sound like the 'leave me the fuck alone' Jesse I last talked to."

"Maybe something changed. People do that, you know, well, with the exception of my poor excuse for a father. He's not going to change as long as he has power. He stays drunk on that." Brice took a breath. "Sorry for the daddy rant. Let's get back to Jesse. Maybe not knowing if you were alive or, ah, you know, not alive and not being able to talk to you changed him,' suggested an optimistic Brice.

"Perhaps you're right. It's certainly a possibility anyway, but still what can I do about it and more importantly, how can I do something about it even if I wanted to?"

"I want you to take this into consideration," Brice said with a huge grin. "You have two uber rich boys as friends." Hunter smiled. "You have two private islands at your disposal and let's not forget, you've got a big ass yacht too. Somewhere in that mix of money, extravagance and technology are options for you and Jesse to communicate."

"I appreciate what you're trying to do and it's working. I woke up in a total funk and now you've managed to put a smile on my face. Thanks!'

"That's what friends are for. Now let's figure out the best way to get you and Jesse together."

* * * * *

Jesse was curled up on the couch unable to believe his outburst at the commander. That took balls Jesse didn't even know he had. He also knew he was in trouble and rather than prolong the inevitable, he decided to take the consequences head on. He headed straight back to the commander's office. The door was still open, so he stuck his head in.

"T-this is all my fault," he stammered. Jesse went into the office and took his seat. "I apologize for my outburst. It's just that before Hunter sailed, he told me that he loves me and I-I lost it. I told him I-I h-hated him and never wanted to see him again, ever. That was wrong. I know that now. I don't know what came over me. I guess I panicked. If I could take that moment back, I'd do it in a heartbeat. So, I think Hunter still hates me. I haven't been given the opportunity to make him believe otherwise. That's what I've been so upset about. I didn't want Hunter to, to … die thinking his best friend hated him."

"I understand Jesse. At least we know Hunter is not lost at sea anymore. Now we just need to convince him to come home. I'm sure things will work out," the commander said gently. "We just have to hope Hunter reaches out to you or at least, someone. My money says it's you, so be ready and keep your cell phone close. Right now, we have no idea where he is, but I've taken steps to make sure we do know the minute he decides to move. Just trust me on this."

* * * * *

Lieutenant Dan Dutton made his way to the boat yard at the Coast Guard Station. It was where 'Stargazer' was being kept in dry storage while the radar was being disassembled. Dan wanted to look her over again and he wanted to document all the bullet hole damage. Sure, his men caused some of the damage, but not anywhere near all of it.

Dan found 'Stargazer' under a tarp in the far corner of the boat yard. The boom Hunter had stepped as a mast had been removed and the deck was now clear of left over mast debris. Several technicians were standing around, apparently in deep discussion.

"Gentlemen," Dan called out. The technicians immediately came to attention and saluted the Lieutenant. "How does it go with the radar?"

"It's a bust, sir. The dome was mounted on the mast and it's probably at the bottom of the Atlantic. The unit itself was ripped from its housing we presume due to the falling of the mast that pulled on the cables. This wasn't a permanent installation. If the cables had been secured to the bulkhead, it might be a different story. We just wanted the system installed long enough to be tested."

"Did any good come out of this experiment?" asked Dan.

"None, sir. Like I said, it was a total bust. The main processing unit took a direct lightning strike. The insides are so bad you can't tell the difference between a capacitor and resistor. It's completely smoked." Dan looked at the unit on the table under 'Stargazer' and saw the blackened insides.

"Was this the only working prototype?"

"No sir, we have three more on the shelf. Just need another boat that can run the tests."

"Thanks. I'm going to have a look at her. Carry on." Dan turned, climbed the ladder and stepped into the cockpit. He fished out his phone and started taking pictures with the first being the large amount of dried blood smeared around the cockpit by bare feet and the second picture was of the smashed compass at the wheel. Dan counted twenty-nine bullet holes in the fiberglass with two portholes shot out as well. He'd had his men tear down their M-4 carbine rifles and count their ammunition. They had fired a total of eight shots. That left twenty-three shots unaccounted for.

Dan pulled out his pocketknife and dug into several of the fiberglass holes and was lucky to recover two bullets. At first glance, Dan could tell the slugs were not from his men. The caliber was wrong. These slugs looked like they came from an AR-15, a popular semi-automatic rifle used in the drug trade. He quickly pocketed them for further analysis. There were shell casings on the salon floor and several more in the cockpit that matched the rifle registered to Captain Turner. Dan picked up as many as he could find. The eighteen casings also went into his pocket. He would be amending his detailed report to the commander. First, he wanted to check in with a friend of his that was the Executive Office on the 'Stroud,' the cutter that had apprehended the drug boat.

* * * * *

Ted Hagan sat in the commissary nursing a now cold cup of coffee. Across the table was Captain Turner's niece, Samantha. Her tears had stopped some time ago, but her grief was plain to see on her face.

"Ya know, it's sad to think about it all, but your uncle lived a long, full life," Ted said while looking down at his cup of coffee. "I know that's what people are expected to say at a time like this, but, ya know, it's true."

"My uncle did live a long, full life. And as cliché as it sounds, he lived it his way." Ted nodded.

"Now Hunter, he's just a youngin', a kid really. He's seventeen ya know. Was mighty proud to be chosen as the captain's first mate. Captain Turner's reputation's well known around these here parts. Yep, Hunter was mighty proud. And that boy knows his way round a sailboat too. Been sailin' since the cow was a calf." Samantha grinned at the story she was being told or perhaps the way it was being told.

"Now, that boy was faced with a difficult decision out there. He was all by himself and didn't even know where he was." Ted paused and finally looked up. "What he did for your uncle is what Captain Turner would have wanted. I'm sorry you don't have his body to bury to give you some sense of closure, but I'm pretty sure that Captain Turner is where he wanted to be." Ted smiled gently and Samantha nodded in agreement.

"Uncle Bill always said he was one with the sea. He really loved sailing. After he finally retired from the Navy, he bought a sailboat and practically lived on it. Aunt Sally complained about that until the day she died," Samantha said with quiet chuckle.

"I grew up on a farm in eastern North Carolina, real rural like. The ocean wasn't that far away, but it might as well uh been hundreds of miles. We didn't git away from the farm very much. I remember paw takin' us on an adventure one time. It was what he called a thrill and minute and it shore was. We stopped and got ice cream and then we did a drive through at a McDonald's. I'll never forget that trip cuz we ended up at the beach. That's when it happened. Seeing all that water gave me the itch and it never went away. That itch is what brought me to the Coast Guard. I'm the first in my family ta graduate from college. I love my job and I kin see how your uncle fell in love with the ocean," Ted said with a slight grin on his face. "Now my wife, she puts up with my coast guardin' cuz I come home every night. My boys, well, they're too young ta figger out what they wanna do. Heck, what they're interested in changes 'bout as much as the weather."

Samantha grinned at him, thoroughly enjoying his country twang. She realized that the young boy who sailed with her father went through an incredibly challenging time and she appreciated the respect the boy, no, the young man had given her uncle.

* * * * *

Dan Dutton made his way down the long dock at Coast Guard Station Jacksonville. He was in luck. The 'Stroud' was at dock and his friend, Tom Drolet, the cutter's Executive Officer, was on board and met Dan at the gangplank.

"Dan Dutton, how are you? When I got your call, I actually couldn't believe it. It's been, what, years since we graduated the academy together?"

"Yea, it's been a few moons since we've last met and I wish this was just a friendly visit, Tom. I've got a shot up sailboat and I'm thinking it had a run in with that drug boat you guys captured."

"Oh, yea. That boat got shot up pretty good too. Twenty some odd holes in the fiberglass, one in the dead perp and one in the crankshaft of the port engine plus, twenty kilos of coke and a couple of AR-15s."

"It's the weapons I'm most interested in. Do you still have them on board?"

"Sure." Dan fished out the two bullet slugs he found on 'Stargazer.'

"You got someone that can run a ballistics check on these slugs and see if they came from one of those AR-15s?"

"Glad to, Dan. My man is on board right now."

A half hour later, Dan Dutton walked down the gangplank from the 'Stroud' headed straight for the commander's office. The 'Stargazer' had been involved in a shootout with the drug boat and the commander needed to know. The proof from the ballistics expert was in Dan's pocket.

Now that Dan thought about it, Hunter was quite the sharpshooter. He'd killed one of the drug runners and put a bullet in one of their engines. You had to be a rather good shot to pull that off. Thinking back to the shootout at the lagoon, the shot from Hunter that missed his boot by less than a foot was no accident. Hunter intended for that shot to be close.

A quick knock on the commander's office door was followed by 'Enter.'"

"Take a seat Lieutenant. What's on your mind?"

"I wanted to follow up on my report about the shooting incident during the recovery of 'Stargazer.' I personally inspected her this morning and found thirty-one total bullet holes in the fiberglass and two portholes shot out. I followed up with the 'Stroud' and found that most of the damage to 'Stargazer' came from that drug boat that shot up one of our jets." The commander looked stunned as he put things together in his mind. "I had my friend Tom Drolet, the Executive Officer on the 'Stroud' run a ballistics check on the confiscated AR-15 rifles from the drug boat against the bullet slugs I dug out of the fiberglass on the 'Stargazer.' They were a perfect match. Here's the report, sir." Dan handed the ballistics report to the commander.

"If I read this information correctly, Hunter, himself, took on that drug boat and not only shot it up, but killed one of the perps and damaged their engine?"

"Yes, sir. That's my take on it as well. I picked up eighteen shell casings from the salon and the cockpit. One shot was fired at the lagoon. And there were probably more casings I didn't find. I checked Captain Turner's rifle and found the clip half-empty. That rifle holds fifty total rounds, so according to the evidence, Hunter gave that drug boat hell."

The commander and Lieutenant grinned at each other.

* * * * *

Hunter and Brice made their way downstairs and were immediately met with the wonderful aromas of a traditional full English breakfast. Walking into the dining room, they saw a table ladened down with all kinds of wonderful British culinary delights.

"Come on and tuck in before it gets cold," Ethan called out. "Get a move on, yanks!" Hunter and Brice joined Ethan at the formally set table. There were more forks and spoons than Hunter had ever seen before. Hunter watched with amusement as first Ethan and then Brice effortlessly swished and flicked their linen napkins with them ending up neatly on their right knee with not a fold out of place.

"How do you do that?" Hunter asked nodding to the napkin. Brice glanced down, then looked back at Hunter with a grin.

"Years and years of proper snobbish, old money training. I've had that serviette maneuver drilled into my head since before I could even hold a fork." Hunter tried the swish and flick maneuver and promptly dropped his napkin on the floor. He picked it up and laid it on his knee. Then Hunter eyed all the hardware surrounding his plate. There must have been four or five forks, just as many spoons and even more knives. Brice noticed and grinned.

"Just start from the outside and work your way in. Actually, in this setting, it doesn't really matter. Just eat. Everything's delicious."

Hunter noticed the silver service with crystal bowls holding sugar and cream. He poured his coffee into a delicate cup that looked like it belonged in a museum and took a sip. The coffee was absolute perfection.

"This is wonderful," he said to Ethan.

"It's Blue Mountain Coffee, imported from Jamica," Ethan said with a smile.

"Of course." Hunter took another sip and savored the flavor. There was a Waterford Crystal goblet filled with orange juice. Sterling silver platters of fried eggs, bacon, sausage, fried tomatoes, mounds of buttered toast and an exquisite Chinese ceramic bowl of baked beans were all laid out before him. There was another platter covered in what looked like dark cookie shaped discs with white spots.

"What's that?" he asked Ethan, pointing to the platter.

"Blood pudding. It's made from pork blood. It's delicious."

"No thank you. I'll stick to what I know, thank you very much."

"You don't know what yer missing," Ethan said as he bit into some pudding.

Hunter grinned and started loading his plate.

"Ethan, where are your parents?" asked Hunter.

"Mum's at home and dad's probably boffing some bimbo in his private jet on the way to some financial something or other."

"Do all rich parents just leave their kids by themselves? I mean there's Brice and now you. I don't get it."

"I've had nannies changing my nappies for as long as I can remember. When I finally grew out of that, I've always had a butler, a housekeeper and a tutor. The tutor was for proper dressing, proper appearance, proper etiquette, proper this and proper that. It's just the way it's always been," explained Ethan just before taking a properly proportioned spoon full of baked beans and putting it neatly into his mouth in a proper etiquette approved manner. Hunter just grinned and shook his head. The ultra rich sure did lead vastly different lives than what he was accustomed to.

"Ethan, how long will you be staying here on this island?" Hunter asked just before popping a sausage in his mouth, which gained a frown from Ethan.

"Don't be a savage, Hunter. Use your 'sausage knife,' it's the second one in from the left. Use it to cut it up your sausage into proper portions." Hunter rolled his eyes and speared another sausage, biting it in half and leaving the other half dangling on his fork. Ethan made a disgusted look, then smiled.

"To answer your question, I'm here for the summer hols, then it's back to Surrey for sixth form." Hunter nodded and turned to Brice.

"Brice, what about you?" Hunter asked.

"Just like Ethan, here for the summer or until dear old dad finally relents and lets me go home to my friends," Brice said sullenly. Hunter considered his next question carefully, before turning back to Brice.

"Have you thought about studying abroad?" At that question, Ethan perked up and stared hopefully at Brice. "If you knew someone, perhaps, that lived abroad, ya know, just saying," Hunter shrugged his shoulders trying desperately to hide the smirk on his face as he shoveled in a fork full of eggs.

"Brice, come home with me! We'd have a brilliant time!" Brice looked at Ethan and grinned. "Please, please, please," Ethan begged.

"You, Hunter, are up to no good." Brice said with a smile. Hunter just grinned back.

"Well?" Ethan asked Brice impatiently.

"There is the bonus of being away from your daddy too. I would think that would be a huge plus," Hunter commented knowing that had sealed the deal.

"Sure. Studying abroad sounds good to me," Brice said with a beaming smile. Ethan jumped up and hugged Brice tightly, tears falling down his happy face. Hunter just smiled and shoved another sausage in his mouth, completely ignoring his 'sausage knife.'

Ethan did a dance around the dining room table. His joy was contagious. Eventually, Ethan sat back down and continued properly eating his 'English fry up' even though he was virtually vibrating with excitement.

Hunter's thoughts naturally turned to Jesse and he knew he had to do something. Dan Dutton said Jesse was so worried that he came to the Coast Guard Station every day. Guilt began to set in on Hunter's shoulders. He had to do something … anything. Then he had an idea.

"Ethan, do you have a cell phone here?" Hunter asked. Ethan finished swallowing another perfectly proportioned bite of baked beans and shook his head.

"No cell service here I'm afraid, but we do have a sat phone." Hunter nodded and munching on a crispy piece of bacon, his thoughts turned back to Jesse. A moment later, he asked a carefully considered question.

"So, Ethan, would you mind if I made a phone call?" Hunter asked softly.

* * * * *


On to Chapter Nine
"Voicemail"

Back to Chapter Seven
"Big Ass Yacht"

Chapter Index

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Email me at jevic@tarheelwriter.com