Page 31 of Beaches

“How kind of you. Killing servicemen who did nothing to you. Hell, you weren’t even born when most of them were serving,” said Alec. “Where is Kaplan?”

“No. No fucking way. He’ll gut us.”

“I’m going to gut you,” said Rory, leaning forward with his knife. “Where is he?”

“We don’t know! He’s on his yacht somewhere and makes all the calls from there.”

“Where are the other islands?” asked Jean.

“No idea. This is the only one we ever came to,” said the man.

“You’re lying,” said Tailor. “I don’t like it when folks lie to me. My mama and his taught me to never lie. Now you’ve made me angry.”

“Wh-what is he? What are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m going to kill you, but you have about sixty seconds to get right with God. Where is Kaplan, and where are the islands?”

“We don’t know!” yelled the second man.

“Well, that’s a shame.” Jean turned to Alec, Rory, and Tailor. “End them quickly and leave their bodies for the polar bears. They could probably use some fresh meat. Doug? Savannah? If you’re close, we’re about done with our business.”

“Never left,” said Doug. “We’re in stealth on the west side of the cave.”

As the men boarded the Osprey, the prisoners appeared to finally be getting warm with blankets covering them and Wilson delivering expert care. Jean looked at his brother, Miller, and grinned.

“We don’t have time for boom-boom explosives, but how are you with a rocket launcher?” he asked.

“About as good as I am with a rifle and just as good as I am with explosives. Why?”

“Don’t let that boat leave your sight.” He pointed to the boat and nodded.

Slowly opening the door, Miller latched himself to the harness and flung one leg outside the bird. With Savannah and Doug keeping her steady, he aimed at the ship and fired. Splinters of wood and other materials sailed through the air, the blast ensuring that no man was left alive. Even if they were, they would die within minutes from the bitter cold of the water.

The men inside cheered as Miller turned to his brothers.

“Does that count as a ship sinking?”

“I don’t know where the hell you found those men, but they’re in rough shape,” said the doctor.

“We need you to keep this quiet for now. We have to find the man responsible, and if he knows that those men survived, he’s going to go underground. Not even the POTUS can know at this point until we know for sure who’s helping them in Washington,” said Ian.

“Do you know what you’re asking me to do? I could be court-martialed.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

“Ian? POTUS is cleared,” said Code. “We’ll let him know, and he can take it from there. Let the men know that they can’t speak of this to anyone.”

“We’ll take care of it,” said Ian.

“Take care of what?” frowned the doctor. “Who are you talking to?”

“It doesn’t matter. The POTUS knows about this and will be sending people to interview those men. They need to be under twenty-four-hour guard. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” said the doctor. “Your man, Wilson? He’s a helluva medic. One of those men would have died if he’d been out there just a day longer. He may lose his foot, but he’ll live.”

“Can we speak to them one last time?” asked Alec.

The doctor nodded, gathering the supplies and medical team he was going to need to continue treating them. The men were lined up in the triage rooms, covered in warm blankets and sipping warm water with lemon. They would be given food, slowly, so as not to make them ill.

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