Each of them had their own level of expertise in addition to their Air Forces Special Operations training. Gunner frequently used his college degrees as an earth scientist to benefit Gray Fox during an op. It had served him well when he attacked the asteroid, and it certainly hadn’t hurt as he was almost sucked up into the eye wall of a hurricane the other day.
The three of them had earned some time off, and spending their first weekend together on Tangier Island was just what the doctor ordered. Even Gunner’s psychiatrist at Eglin Air Force Base, Dr. Brian Dowling, would approve. Despite the fact that Gunner and the team were technically retired from the Air Force, he was still seeing Dr. Dowling on an informal basis. Logistics was an issue, so frequently they conversed by telephone. Their relationship had become more of a friendship than doctor-patient.
Bear honked the horn of his newly acquired Baja Outlaw powerboat as he caught a glimpse of Gunner and Howard on the dock. Howard jumped to his feet, arched his back, and let out a series of howls. Gunner shook his head and laughed. Those two were meant for one another. Of all the people on this planet, Bear was the only other human being Howard would sleep with. That suited Gunner just fine. It would be nice to have the bed to himself for a couple of nights.
Bear eased up to the south side of the dock opposite Gunner’s own fast boat, the Donzi. If a casual passerby didn’t know better, they’d think the group was reenacting a scene from the eighties television series Miami Vice, with Rico and Tubbs getting together to take down the bad guys. Or the neighbors, if there were any, might think a drug runner had moved in next door.
Cam gave Gunner a cross look as she scrambled to the bow of the Baja to toss the dock line to Gunner. Bear moved to the stern and wrapped the line around the piling securing the floating dock.
“What?” Gunner mouthed the words, thinking that Cam wanted to whisper something to him. Instead, she blurted it out.
“I’ll never ride with this idiot again!”
Gunner scowled. The three of them had just finished cruising for hours together across the Gulf of Mexico and she didn’t complain. “Why?”
She let it out. Her tone of voice was filled with sarcasm. “Hey, Cam. You want me to open her up? No, I’d say. He’d do it anyway. Hold on, Cam, he’d say. Don’t bounce me out of the boat, I’d respond. Can you feel the power? he’d ask. You wanna feel my fist break your jaw? I’d respond. That’s the way it was all the way from my place.”
Cam made her way back to the entrance to the bow and entered the sleeping quarters below. She started tossing duffle bags on the dock.
“You can’t not ride with him,” countered Gunner.
“Yes, I can. I mean, wait. No. How the hell am I supposed to respond to a double negative? I’m not riding with him again. Period. You can take me back on Sunday.”
Bear interrupted her rant. “Come on, Cam. It wasn’t so bad. I’ll go slow next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, hot rod. Gunner’s gonna take me back.”
Bear began to plead with her. “But how ya gonna get back and forth next time?”
“I’ll get my own damn boat!”
Cam climbed out of the Baja and stood defiantly with her hands on her hips. “Come here, Howard, I need a hug.” The basset waddled over to her and immediately covered her in several wet, sloppy kisses. She grabbed her duffle and led Howard up to the house.
Gunner reached out and grabbed Bear’s hand to hoist him up and over the edge of the boat onto the dock. Bear almost pulled too hard, causing Gunner to lose his balance slightly. He had a powerful grip and biceps that could easily curl eighty-pound dumbbells.
Gunner glanced to make sure Cam was out of earshot before he turned back to Bear. “It’s a great ride, isn’t it?”
“Oh, hell yeah! Once you get past Quantico and hit that S-bend in the river, you feel like you’re at Watkins Glen but in a boat. After you clear Piney Point, you can really open her up.”
Gunner started laughing. “Wide damn open!” He and Bear exchanged high fives.
“I guess hittin’ the coastline at oh-dark-thirty is out of the question.”
“Why?” asked Gunner. “Cam always sleeps in when we get together. You and I’ll slip out. I’ve already got a race course to run. South past Newport News, out into the Atlantic at Virginia Beach, and down to Kill Devil Hills in Carolina. Then back again.”
“What’s the winner get?” asked Bear.
Gunner hadn’t thought of that. “You know, we need a trophy of some kind. Bragging rights are good, but we need something to hoist in the air.”
Bear liked it. “Yeah, a gold cup or a bottle of milk like at the Indy 500.”
“Beer, maybe.”
“Works for me,” Bear readily agreed. He grabbed his gear, and the two men, boys for the weekend, strutted up the dock to the house, excited about their time together.
Once inside, Gunner took Cam and Bear on a tour of his house now that everything was unpacked and he’d done a little decorating. The home was simple in design and much smaller than his place on Dog Island. The number of listed properties for sale on Tangier Island were few, but as the Realtor put it, everything has a price. She knew of an older couple who’d lived on the island for nearly forty years, but their health dictated they be closer to a hospital. Or at least have access to one that didn’t require a boat or LifeFlight to get to. They’d agreed to sell, and Gunner had purchased the perfect spot.
His primary requirements were one story, three bedrooms with three baths, one for him and each of his best friends, and a large open
