Ivan parked the Buick beside the trash buggy behind the shop. He walked around to the front entrance and went inside.
Tag was leaning on the counter in front of the display of dive gear and surf boards. He looked up from the latest edition of Rolling Stone to watch his boss go to sit behind the mahogany desk.
There was an obvious change in the way Ivan moved. Tag wasn't sure what accounted for the newer more poised look but Ivan looked confident. His world was back under control again.
Tag watched Ivan reach for his coffee cup. He stood up.
“Anyone come in?” Ivan asked, going to the coffee pot.
He raised the pot knowing Tag would be watching him.
“No thanks,” Tag said. “No, it's a typical middle of the week snoozer. If anyone is up they aren't circulating yet,”
“You want to take the Gulf tour this afternoon. We had five people signed up by last evening. There will be a couple more by the time the tour is scheduled to go out,” Ivan said.
“You want I should leave you here alone, Boss?”
“I'll be fine,” Ivan said. “I have bookwork to catch up on.”
“Sure, I'll take the tour boat out,” Tag said. “Took you a while to get the Buick. What else did you do?” Tag asked, suspecting what it was Ivan really went to the house for.
“I changed the oil. It was overdue,” Ivan said with a straight face.
“Uh huh. I need a soda. I've had enough coffee this morning. Bring you back something?” Tag asked.
“Yeah. A root beer would taste nice. Here,” Ivan said, handing Tag a five dollar bill.
“Anything else, Boss?” Tag asked, folding the newspaper.
“No, I'm not that hungry at the moment,” Ivan said, thinking to himself. “You wouldn't be heading for Harry's house this morning, would you? One of your mama's egg sandwiches would taste good right about now.”
“Yeah, I could make a run to Harry's. You going to be OK, Ivan?” Tag asked unable to hide his concern.
“I'm fine, Tag. Put my soda on hold. I'll drink coffee with your mama's sandwich. That appeals to me at the moment.”
“OK, one egg sandwich coming up. I can put my soda run on hold” Tag said. “An egg sandwich would hit the spot. Glad I thought of it.”
Ivan felt better. He was thinking more clearly. He wasn't planning a lot of running around. He was as safe in the shop as he was anywhere. There were nothing but block walls behind him and the mahogany desk he bought was a tank. His position was solid and so was his resolve. He'd be fine now.
He locked the doors at the house. He didn't have an alarm system. No one would hear an alarm but he'd know if someone had gone into his house. His grandfather taught him how to leave things so you'd know if someone was in the house. Ivan was on his turf and there was comfort in that.
He was ready for one of Twila's egg sandwiches. He was ready for more coffee. Ivan was as ready as he'd ever be.
Tonight, at a specified time, when Harry was always close to his private line, Ivan would call him. Harry was the only man he knew who could find out why Mason was in the cove. He intended to make it clear to Harry what he was going to do if the Company man came near him or if they crossed paths. He hoped they didn't but hope wasn't going to keep him safe.
A few minutes later Tag was back and Ivan moved to the opposite side of the counter from Tag. The wax paper served as a plate as he ate half the sandwich. He washed it down with coffee and spent a minute savoring the flavor.
“Your mama's a wizard. Did you thank her for me? I love her egg sandwiches,” Ivan said, eating the other half before licking his fingers.
“She was getting things out for lunch. The frying pan was still hot. The grounds keepers had just been there for egg sandwiches,” Tag said. “I was leaving a few minutes after I got there.”
Ivan turned around and went back to his desk, rearranging himself and the gun without a second thought that Tag was watching him. He was just a guy getting comfortable before doing the books.
“You need to ask your mama what I can do for her. I want to get her something nice but something she wants, or needs,” Ivan said.
“She did mention that she wanted to take surfing lessons,” Tag said without the sound of humor in his voice.
They both laughed.
Twila was still recovering from a second heart attack. This one nearly killed her.
Ivan felt awkward carrying a gun again. As a life long practicer of non-violence, and a peacenik, he believed in peace and love. It wasn't just a good idea. It was something all people should aspire to.
Now he was carrying again. It was for the same reason he carried before. Self-preservation meant doing what you had to do. Ideas of peace and brotherhood took a backseat when you were thinking about killing someone.
Ivan believed in staying alive for as long as possible. He was made safer by carrying the gun over there. He felt safer carrying the gun now. At least Tag hadn't seen it. It would only worry him further. Tag and Ivan were not strangers to guns or to the evil men do.
Tag waited until after eleven to make a JK's run. He got himself clams and fries with his soda and he took a root beer back to Ivan. He'd need to fuel the tour boat and take it around to load at the end of the pier at about noon. Three more people had signed up for the Gulf Tour and a couple more always decided to go at the last minute in an otherwise slow activity day.
The sun was high, the sky was blue, and there was no sign of foul weather on the horizon. It was heading toward ninety by noon and a breezy ride in a speedboat would cool the campers off while they enjoyed the beauty of their surroundings.
Tag took Ivan his root beer and gave him the change. He once more leaned on the counter eating his clams and fries while turning the pages of Rolling Stone.
“Going to the Olsons for dinner tonight, Boss?”
“No, I'll stay late tonight. You can go early. You've been humping the trash in the morning and you need your rest,” Ivan said with the sounds of a compassionate boss in his voice.
“I ain't going nowhere,” Tag said. “Your not going to the Olsons have anything to do with that growth poking your shirt out in the back, Boss?”
“You don't miss much,” Ivan said.
“I'm paid to pay attention to details, remember?” Tag said, turning the page of the magazine he was reading.
“Yes, you are.”
“I knew what you were doing while you were doing it. I remember you going to get it when we had that trouble when I first started working for you. I figured that's what you went to get.”
“I don't like carrying it, Tag. It's necessary,” Ivan said.
“Don't bother me none. A man's got to do what a man's got to do. No point in leading that creep to the Olsons,” Tag said. “They don't need that kind of trouble.”
“No, I'll stick close to the shop while Mason's here,” Ivan said.
Ivan had one card left to play. He'd play it that evening. He didn't intend to wait for Mason to make his move. He'd make sure that he wasn't forced into a bad spot. He intended to turn the tables on Mason before he did whatever he came to the cove to do.
At noon Tag left the shop to go fill up the tour boat at the Fish Warehouse gas pumps. Ivan stood in front of the Dive shop’s front window, watching Tag move the boat around to the fuel pumps.
A few minutes later Tag was tied up at the end of the pier, helping passengers climb aboard. There were eight passengers at five bucks a head. That would pay for the gas and Tag's time. It was about average on a Wednesday.
Friday through Sunday the boat was filled for every tour on the Gulf and there were two tours on Saturday and Sunday. They made most of their money on Saturday and Sunday. As the summer took hold, the Cove Campground was always full.
Ivan moved to the refrigeration unit where he kept his quart bottle of orange juice. He drank straight from the bottle. He liked the feel of the cold air. He rolled the cool container back and forth on his forehead. The day had turned hot and the ventilation in the shop sucked. He closed the refrigeration unit's door and went back to sit behind the desk.
The next time he built on to the Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop, he'd put a window in the back wall so air could circulate inside the shop. After he made a little money, he'd spring for an air conditioner and put that in the window he would build in the back wall.
For now, he'd roast in the afternoon and be happy business was improving. It was hot every summer and that's why the campground filled up. His happiness extended to the fact his men had left the beach for the summer. Five thousand miles away, they were safe and Mason couldn't reach them. Small things like that made Ivan happy.
The man from the Company wasn't one of those things.
Tag had tied up at the end of the pier and he was helping passengers back onto the pier. Several stopped to thank Tag. They were all smiles as Ivan watched from the Dive Shop's front window.
He stayed at the window to watch Tag put the tour boat back in its slip. Ivan went to sit behind the mahogany desk.
Tag came in and took the keys to the boat to the peg on the back wall where they were kept. He dropped $40.00 on the desk. Ivan swept it into the top drawer.
“Everything go OK?” Ivan asked.
“Yeah, the Gulf is beautiful today. The people loved it. It's a beautiful spot to live, Boss. I never get tired of seeing it.”
“No place like it in the world,” Ivan said. “You mind making a JK's run?” Ivan asked.
“Sure. What do you need, Boss?” Tag asked.
At three in the afternoon Ivan was thirsty and Twila's egg sandwich had begun to wear off.
“The lemonade. Get me that 64oz job. Fill it full of ice. Get yourself whatever you want. That will hold me until dinner time.”
“You got it, Boss,” Tag said, taking the bill out of Ivan's hand as he headed for the door.
Tag stayed at the shop with Ivan even after he was told to go home. He wasn't about to leave Ivan with that man still over there. Tag felt guilty for renting the guy wilderness one. How could he have known he was trouble? Didn't matter. He wasn't leaving Ivan alone.
“What time is it, Tag,” Ivan asked, still working on the books.
Tag looked at his watch.
“Five after eight. You going home tonight, Boss?” Tag asked.
“I told you to go home, Tag,” Ivan said.
“Who'd tell you the time if I went home, Boss?”
“Suit yourself. I have a call to make,” Ivan said, removing his wallet from his pocket.
He took out the card Harry McCallister gave him years before. Dialing carefully the phone began to ring.
It was picked up on the third ring.
“Yes.”
“Senator?”
“This is the senator.”
“This is a friend from the cove,” Ivan said.
“Yes, go ahead.”
“They're here, Senator. I'm unsure of what to do. Is this line safe?”
“We must always suspect that there are ears listening to everything we say over the phone. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I need your advice before I do something I'll regret, Senator.”
“Wait one minute,” Senator Harry McCallister said, putting the phone down and then picking it back up a minute later. “OK. You do know I'll be home Saturday: I'm assuming this won't wait?”
“No. I need your help now.”
“Go on. I'm listening. I'm assuming this has to do with you being over there,” the senator said.
“Yes. A man from over there is here. I've armed myself. I will not hesitate to kill him. You need to tell his people that. I have no desire to spend the rest of my life in jail but I won't go back there. Not ever. I did my time in hell, Senator.”
“OK. Give me something specific. Do you know his name?”
“Mason. He used his name when he registered with Tag last night. He was watching me this morning. He stood so I couldn't miss seeing him. He's made it so he can see the front door of the shop.”
“Has he approached you?”
“No. He let me know he's here. That's all. He is a very bad man, Harry. I will kill him if he comes near me,” Ivan said.
“I'll see what I can do. It might take me until tomorrow. If I have something to report, I'll call you at three in the afternoon. If I don't call at three, expect my call at this time tomorrow night.”
“That's more than I could have expected, Senator,” Ivan said.
“Is Tag there by any chance?” the senator asked.
“Yes, he's standing right beside me. He refuses to go home.”
“Tag's a good boy. You can feel safer with him around. Let me talk to him.”
Ivan handed Tag the phone.
“Tag, you there?”
“Yes, sir.” Tag said.
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But you intend to watch your bosses' back?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I'm going to call the house after I hang up. I'm going to instruct Algie to secure a very good pistol. I'll see to it that you can carry it without difficulty. Once I know you have the pistol, I'll call sheriff Davis and tell him you need to be armed for the time being. He won't be a problem. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your mom will be at work tomorrow. I'll have Algie give the gun to her. I'll have her carry it to you at the shop in the morning. Is that clear, Tag?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you mind having a gun on you until this is resolved?”
“No, sir. I'll feel better having one. Don't mind telling you, if the boss is scared, I'm petrified but I won't leave him alone.”
“Good boy, Tag. I'm relying on you,” Harry said.
“Yes, sir,” Tag said.
“Let me talk to Ivan.”
Tag handed the phone back to Ivan.
“I should be able to get a hold of the people who will know why Mason is there tomorrow. It's too late to talk to the Director tonight. I will call tonight and alert Langley that the Director needs to contact me immediately. He might hear about it tonight but don't expect anything to happen until tomorrow. We are way outside of normal business hours in this town.”
“It's more than I expected. You saved my ass the last time, Senator. I'm hoping for a similar result this time.”
“I'm going to arrange for Algie to pick up a pistol for Tag first thing in the morning. Twila will bring it down to him. He is to stay with you and watch your back, Ivan. He's a good boy and he'll take a bullet for you. Don't make him do that. Don't go off and get yourself killed. I'm on it. Wait for my call tomorrow. Don't go out. Stay in the shop or in your house. Can you do that for me?”
“I will,” Ivan said.
“Try not to shoot anyone, you hear?”
“He'll be fine if he stays away from me. I won't let him take me away from here. He'll need to kill me if I don't kill him first,” Ivan said.
The phone clicked on Harry's end.
Ivan didn't hang up right away and after a few more seconds there was a second clear and distinctive click.
Ivan set the phone back down in its cradle. He sat looking at the phone for another minute.
Was Harry's phone tapped or was his? He wondered.
“Go ahead home, Tag. I'm going home,” Ivan said.
“I'll walk you to your car, Boss.”
“You don't have a gun yet. Why don't you go ahead. I'm going.”
“I'll walk you to your car,” Tag said. “I told the senator I'd watch your back. That's what I'm going to do.”
“Suit yourself,” Ivan said.
Turning out the lights and locking the front door behind him. Tag walked Ivan to his car.
“Thanks, Tag,” Ivan said.
“I ain't done nothing yet, Boss,” Tag said.
“Thanks anyway. The best move I made when I thought up the Cove Enterprises was hiring your lazy ass,” Ivan said with a smile.
“I can't say it isn't interesting work, Ivan,” Tag said.
“I'll see you in the morning, Tag,” Ivan said, getting into his car and backing into the road before turning toward his house.
Tag hesitated before getting into his car. A chill ran through him.
He looked toward wilderness one. He knew that son-of-a-bitch was watching him. He could feel Mason's eyes on him.
He'd feel a lot better once he had a gun on him.
There was no moon. The sky was totally clear. A billion stars lighted {lit} the sky overhead.
Tag got into his car and drove home.
*****
Once Dylan finished helping Greek in the galley, he left with a handful of Greek's chocolate chip cookies. Dolf walked Dylan to the doorway of his father's cabin and they said goodnight. Dylan opened the door and went inside with the lantern Dolf gave him.
The cabin was full of light and as the ship lurched to the port side, Dylan was caught by a dilemma. Did he drop the lantern to grab onto something or did he drop the cookies Greek gave him?
Having his priorities straight, he let go of the lantern and grabbed a handy shelf. He could eat and sleep in the dark.
“You OK?” Clay asked, picking up the lantern Dylan dropped.
He set the two lanterns together between the cabins and tuned one off. It furnished plenty of light.
“Yeah, want a cookie, Dad?”
“No, I've had all the cookies I need for tonight. I take it the Greek rewarded you for your help?”
“Yes, Sir. Everything is ship shape in the galley. These are great cookies. Why doesn't Mama put walnuts in her chocolate chip cookies?” Dylan asked.
“You never complained about her chocolate chip cookies before.”
“I never had chocolate chip cookies with walnuts before. It's a great combination. Do I like walnuts, Dad?” Dylan asked, like a little boy might.
“The light brown nuts you crack open at Christmas,” Clay said. “Those are walnuts. We put them in your stocking to cut down on the candy we give you.”
“Dad, you're telling me Santa doesn't put them in there?” Dylan asked, sounding horrified.
“Santa brings them but he lets me put them in your stocking. He's on a tight schedule,” Clay said playing along with his son.
“That's a walnut? I like walnuts then. Kewl,” Dylan said.
“You tired?” Clay asked.
“Not really. I've just been bouncing around in the galley, trying not to break any more of the Greeks dishes than necessary. That has me a bit jacked up, Dad. It's a little scary and a bit of an adventure.”
“You worried?” Clay asked.
“Should I be?” Dylan asked.
“No. Captain Hertzog knows what he's doing. The Horizon is well designed to ride out any storm. He'll have us moving again by tomorrow morning.”
“It's what I figured. What if we don't get moving tomorrow?”
“We have more than enough men qualified to get us going on this ship. If we aren't moving by tomorrow morning, I'm going to question why not,” Clay said.
“I'm reading 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. I think I'll go into my cabin and read until I fall asleep,” Dylan said.
“Good plan. I'm tired. I'm going to turn in. We don't feel the motion as much in the center of the ship. There's quite a bit of ballast lower in the ship's belly. It makes us sit lower in the water.”
“Kewl, Dad. I'm going to go read,” Dylan said, grabbing the lantern and going into his cabin.
Dylan reached to grab hold of the doorjamb as the ship rolled back to starboard. He let go and immediately jumped onto his bed.
“Night, Dylan,” Clay said, climbing under the covers.
“Night, Dad.”
The lights on the bridge came on at fifteen minutes to midnight.
“Good boy, Sidney,” Captain Hertzog said.
The captain read each gauge carefully. Then he checked his radar and sonar. Having the steering back, he slowly turned the Horizon to a north by northwest heading. That would keep the ship on the northern edge of the storm. Once that was done, he let out a long slow sigh. They were out of imminent jeopardy.
Ten minutes after steering the Horizon back on the course he wanted her on, the lights went out again. The steering failed and once again the Horizon was plunged into darkness.
Captain Hertzog snugged himself into the helm that was useless to him at the moment.
“Sidney, you are not making me happy. Get the electricity on and keep it on,” Captain Hertzog said, letting go of the useless wheel.
He'd sent his sons to their cabins the same as everyone else. The only people up and alert on the Horizon were the captain, the engineers, and Sidney Peacock, for what that was worth as Horizon once again tilted severely to starboard.
She'd begin drifting back toward the center of the storm within a few minutes. The captain needed electricity and he needed it now.
The storm raged.
The Horizon rocked.
Captain Hertzog prayed.