“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said. “I don’t mean anything personal by it. But Tank? How old is he?”
Tony looked over at DJ. “You don’t know who he is, do you?”
“Just met him a little while ago.”
“In 1970, that old guy saved the lives of more than a dozen men in Vietnam,” Tony said. “They were pinned down in a minefield and Tank brought them back to the helo. Those who could walk followed in his footsteps through the minefield. Those who couldn’t walk, he carried. He was later awarded the Medal of Honor.”
DJ’s eyes went wide. “You mean I’ve been sittin’ here talkin’ to this guy and none of y’all thought to tell me that?”
“You don’t have to worry about Tank,” I said. “If the shit hits the fan, there’s nobody I’d rather have with me.”
“You have an idea?” Tony asked. “About how to drop the feces into the oscillator?”
I nodded. “Tonight, while Tank and I are busy rounding up prostitutes, you and DJ are gonna rip off as many drug dealers as you can.”
“Simple as that, huh?” DJ asked, rhetorically.
“It won’t be simple,” I replied. “We’ll only have one car.”
“No, we won’t,” I heard Tank say from the dock.
I looked down to see him climbing aboard alone. “Where’s Paul?”
Tank came up the ladder and leaned on the rail. “I got to thinking,” he said. “I couldn’t see how we could hit them hard enough with just one set of wheels. As it turned out, the nearest car rental was Enterprise. You know their slogan?”
Tony grinned. “We’ll pick you up?”
“Yep,” Tank said. “I rented three cars and had one dropped off at Publix and the other delivered here. The agent on duty sent a fourth car to pick up the other two drivers.”
“I should have suggested that myself,” I said.
“You were just a gunny. Master gunnery sergeants get shit done.”
DJ laughed somewhat nervously.
“So, what’d I miss?” Tank asked, sitting next to DJ.
“DJ and Tony are gonna use two of the cars to drive around and rip off as many drug dealers as they can find.”
“Finding them might not be easy,” Tank said. “I doubt they’ll have a neon sign over their businesses.”
“Not as difficult as you’d think,” DJ said. “I’ve been offered all kinds of drugs just sitting in a bar or walking down the street.”
Tank looked at him. “Is that right? Never happened to me before.”
“Understandable, sir,” DJ said. “You don’t look like a user. I do.”
“What’s this sir crap?” Tank asked. “You on drugs now, son?”
“I don’t do drugs,” DJ said. “Well, maybe a joint now and then.”
“Then you can shitcan the sir,” Tank ordered. “I was an enlisted man, just like you. Or was that sir crap a reference to my age?”
“I think DJ’s a little hero-struck,” Tony said. “He didn’t know who you were.”
Tank’s eyes bored into DJ’s. “Wanna know what I think?” he asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. “In the last couple of decades, I started hearing about World War II guys being the greatest generation. They did, in fact, save the world. But if you ask them, and I served with a bunch of ’em, they’ll all tell you what I’m about to say. That’s hogwash. Those guys did what needed to be done, when it was required, short and simple.
“What makes a man stand up against overwhelming odds isn’t generational. We’re all born with a sense of right and wrong. I was just in the right place at the right time to make a difference. If I hadn’t been there, someone else woulda done it. Look at you. I understand you got a Silver Star in exchange for that peg leg. You think you were any different than the guys you saved?
“No,” DJ replied.
“I’m no more or less a man than you, son. You read me?”
“Yes, sir,” DJ said, with a grin. “And that one was in deference to your wisdom.”
“Let it be the last,” Tank said. “Now tell me about that gimp leg.”
DJ told his story, short and sweet. He’d been part of a team that was clearing houses in Fallujah when a grenade landed in their midst. Without thinking, he’d knocked the rest of his four-man team to the ground and tried to kick the grenade out the door.
“I was only partly successful,” he said.
“When this is over,” Tank offered, “I’ll drink to your leg.”
DJ grinned. “And I’ll drink to your knowing where the mines were.”
Tank roared with laughter, then started coughing. Finally, he slapped DJ on the shoulder. “I didn’t have any idea where those mines were.”
The VHF crackled and I thought I recognized Savannah’s voice. I reached over and turned it up.
“Go to one-seven, Sea Biscuit,” the dockmaster said.
I switched channels with them, and Mark told Savannah he had her on the inside of the same dock we were on.
“Will you need assistance?” he asked.
I keyed the mic before Savannah could answer. “Negative, Landings Marina. She’s expected. We’ll get down there and tie her off.”
A few minutes later, Sea Biscuit turned around the end of the face dock and Savannah maneuvered her boat into place. Chyrel was on the foredeck and Alberto was up on the flybridge with Savannah. He was beaming from ear to ear.
Later that afternoon, Savannah and I took one of the rental cars and drove the short distance to Fort Myers Beach. It had grown up a little over the years; newer businesses here and there and a lot more homes, but it was still basically the same.
“I’ve been here a couple of times,” Savannah said, looking around. “Flo and I anchored in Matanzas Pass for a week once. Quiet area.”
“Yeah, it is,” I said, turning into the parking lot of the treatment center. “I’ve probably been to the beach here a thousand times as a kid.”
I checked my watch. It was 1525. We were five minutes early.
When we walked in, a pretty receptionist greeted us. I recognized her voice.
“Hi, Audrey,” I said. “I’m
