Colonel Worthington stood about 6’3”, had salt and pepper hair, and a tanned face that bore the lines of rugged experience. Maybe late 40s or early 50s, he exuded professionalism, and his all-business attitude underscored a true leader. Now, what in the hell is this all about, I thought, as the colonel turned back to the Coast Guard lieutenant and said, “Lieutenant, your work here is done. I think it’s time for you to return to your ship.” It wasn’t stated as an order or suggestion, just a matter of fact.
The lieutenant began to protest, “But, sir, I have my orders and am here to help these officials prosecute their…” He was stopped in mid-sentence by the colonel’s raised hand.
“Son, I suggest you contact your captain immediately,” he said as he looked at his watch. “I believe you will find your orders have changed.” Now, that came across as an order, and the Guardsman keyed his radio and called the Shrike. We didn’t hear the response since he was wearing an earpiece, but I watched as his face blanched and his body became ramrod straight.
After a minute or so, he replied in a very formal response, “Yes, sir.”
He turned to one of his men and nodded. The Guardsman gave a loud whistle and the hand motion for the inflatable. As the boat came alongside, he turned to the colonel, saluted very smartly, and said, “My apologies, sir.”
The colonel returned his salute, and with that, they left the Falcon. The suits were standing there dumbfounded and began sputtering and protesting as the inflatable receded in the distance.
“We have legal documents and a cease-and-desist order, and you can’t just tell them to leave like that.”
Now, Worthington’s voice took on a new, more menacing tone. “Mister, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I can damn sure do that, and I am giving you the same order; you have one minute to get off this boat.” He reached in his BDU jacket, pulled out a piece of paper, and shoved it into the lawyer’s chest. “This vessel, these men, and this site are now under the jurisdiction of Homeland Security. Your papers are no longer valid, and you now have 30 seconds to get off this boat.”
The state suit now stepped forward with an arrogant air about him and said, “We are state officials, serving legal documents to these men.” The colonel looked at his watch and said, “You now have 15 seconds.”
“Or what?” the official said, still in his arrogant defensive mode.
Worthington went toe-to-toe with him and, in a low growl, said, “Or you will be swimming back to your vessel,” emphasizing each word with two fingers jabbing into the man’s chest, moving him back a step each time. The suit was now backed up against the gunwale. He opened his mouth to protest again, and with one mighty, two-fingered jab, the colonel sent him over the side. He stepped forward, looking down at the man sputtering in the water, and said, “Time’s up.”
He turned to the two remaining men and said, “Well?”
Their boat had already moved into position as its operator was helping his comrade out of the water. The remaining two headed for the ladder and scurried down into the boat like rats leaving a sinking ship. As they pulled away, the colonel turned to us, grinning, and said, “Well, that was fun!”
No one had said a word; we just stood there, some with mouths agape, some staring in disbelief, and some grinning—all waiting to see what happened next.
The colonel took in the scene and said, “Fitz sends his regards,” and laughed. Now, we all began smiling. The cutter had started pulling away, and the Sea Ray was getting underway. “I’m sure there are going to be some very unhappy people when word gets back to whoever dreamed up this stunt.”
“So, Fitz sent you all over here to scare these guys off?” I asked.
“Oh, no, this is official DOD business,” he said as he handed me another document. This one was from the Dept. of Defense/Homeland Security, giving the colonel orders to take control of the situation at the site and secure it until further notice. Our work should continue without outside interference or disruption of any kind. He was instructed to work with Dr. Burnett to ensure things went smoothly.
I let out a low whistle, “So, this was all legit, I mean a real operation.”
“Yes, it was,” the colonel said, “But I will say I haven’t had this much fun following orders in quite a while. We will also be providing security for your boats and crews,” motioning to the Lisa B and turning to look at Gus.
“So, I guess we don’t have to worry about those pissants coming back anytime soon,” Gus said, nodding toward the departing cruiser.
“No, they shouldn’t be a problem. Not to say we won’t have issues to deal with in the future, but for now, we should be fine.”
“And what about the Coast Guard? Did we piss them off with this incident?”
“Not at all; I just had to stall a bit to ensure the captain of the cutter got his official change of orders from higher up before I cut the lieutenant loose. They should be fine with it; no toes got stepped on there.”
“Good to know,” I said, “They’ve been nothing but accommodating in all our dealings with them. I wouldn’t want to tarnish our relationship in any way.”
“You’ll be fine. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to bring my men aboard and go through some introductions and set up the protocols for how this is going to work.”
“Not at all, bring them in,” Gus said.
Chapter Three
We were left alone while we were at sea but repeatedly harassed when we returned to port. Yes, the papers got served, most were disregarded out of hand, but the court summons couldn’t be taken lightly. So, here
