11:38 hours (military time)

Ricardo looked up at Gary in the mirror as he drove. "I am nervous ... but we must do this," He said.

"A smart man will be cautious at all times, being nervous is often a good thing," Gary said. "If we get through the gate without conflict, all the better. If they get suspicious we'll probably still be taken inside and that's where I have to be for this to work."

Gary thought for a moment. "It's Friday, what do you suppose they will be doing on a normal day like this?"

"In your country Friday is the end of the work week; many tourists come here on this day. I think it will look like you wish to see the church, but then once inside you will ask to see the boss, yes?"

"I don't imagine Ignacio jumps up every time someone comes knocking, someone else opens his door," Gary said.

"It would be best to ask the priest in the church, he will know," Ricardo said. "I am sure his name will be Morales too."

"Family ties, religion and the cartel...that's disgusting."

"It is a poor area; money keeps the church alive, my friend ... sad, yes."

They drove on in silence, passing the Cancun highway and forging on further south. Halfway to their destination, the highway swept close to the sea and Gary marveled at the beauty of the water and the beaches. Tommy and the boys would be saddling up right about now, following along to take up their positions.

Inside the vehicles the golf bags would be opened up, weapons assembled and checked. Bobby was carrying the Taurus automatics; he would be the first one Gary saw after they made a break for it. He felt naked without a weapon, but they would be searched before facing anyone of importance.

Each man had a favorite weapon, all of them devastating. Nate was a sniper by choice and he was deadly with the MK-11, a specially designed Seal sniper rifle. But for up close work like this he preferred a shotgun. Gary had a photo of Nate somewhere in his files showing the man with criss-crossed bandoliers of shells about his body. He looked like a big game hunter, but he was good at clearing a path with that twelve gauge.

Mark carried the demolition works on his hips and back, small charges that would move mountains if necessary. Gary wondered how effective that football would be. Like them all Mark had been trained on the M-16, and carried small clips of bullets stuffed everywhere in his pockets. He would buddy up well with Nate on this one.

Bobby was a heavy weapons expert, shoulder fired rockets and cannons made him smile...but he preferred the short muzzled Uzi for his close up work. Gary had seen him take down an entire squad with one clip of ammunition, sometimes it was necessary. Bobby's jump pants had all kinds of room for the long clips of bullets; he never seemed to run out of ammunition.

Tommy and Jackson could kill with bare hands if need be. Several fools had come in close with a knife and ended up with broken necks. Martial arts was their passion, Gary was only passable in their eyes.

Today they each had a pair of Taurus autos under their Hawaiian tourist shirts. Gary almost laughed when Tommy showed him the leather shoulder bag he carried for the ammunition. It was such a fashionable gay favorite. But only a fool would tell him that, Gary liked his neck just the way it was.

It wasn't long before the village of Playa del Carmen hove in sight, the church spires standing tall against the waves of heat shimmering above the road. Yes, it was another hot day, just what they needed. Even a small breeze off the water would seem cool to these folk. They should try southern Iraq if they thought this was bad.

13:00 hours (1 pm in the afternoon to you civilians)

Ricardo slowed down, moving off the main interstate highway and onto a small paved road leading into town. This place was a tourist destination, the signs in English showed that much. Driving slowly down the main street Ricardo pointed the car towards the rise at the far end where the church dominated the view.

The town was filled with men, too many men. Some sat on chairs outside cantinas; others lounged in small groups under shady trees. Gary became concerned and wondered if these were working men or hired thugs...the cartel's men? He counted several dozen just standing around and waiting. Had Ignacio been warned?

A bus approached from the other end of town and Ricardo had to pull over to give it room to pass. Gary saw the groups break up and form a line to board the bus. Good, most of them were leaving town. It would be easier to spot the dangerous ones now, but Tommy and Jackson still had their work cut out for them.

Gary toggled the little ruby eye on his belt. "T...One," He said

"One...T," came the answer, Tommy was on. "Lots of guys in the market, some leaving on a bus headed your way," Gary said. "Still hard to spot the opposition team in all this clutter, approaching the objective in five minutes...out."

"T...roger," was the reply. When the bus passed they would see Bobby's car on the side of the road with the hood up. Looking like a bunch of foolish tourists was a good cover. It would prevent a call back to town warning of anything unusual approaching; it was a well used disguise in the intelligence trades.

Ricardo drove right up to a set of imposing iron gates barring the way and Gary almost laughed. Mark would have an easy task taking them down if necessary. They didn't even look closed properly. But four men lounged around in the shade of the wall and one of them stood forth to offer a challenge.

Ricardo powered the window down and a breath of hot air invaded the air conditioned car. Gary almost heard the guard sigh as the wash of cool air flowed back at him.

"This man would like to see the church," Ricardo said.

"There is no mass until six," The man replied.

"No, he wishes to view the art and speak with the Holy Father...he does not speak our language," Ricardo confided. "But he is very wealthy, the church must benefit from his presence. It is our duty to God."

The man nodded and went over to the gate post. He picked up a phone and made a call. Gary scoped out the other guards, noticing several small arms in belt holsters and one automatic rifle, an AK-47, probably a Cuban knockoff by the looks of it. Damn Soviets had armed every insurgent force on the planet with their version of an automatic rifle. Fortunately the American weapons were better.

The guard came back and nodded. "The priest will see you. I must search the car and the passenger," He said with a shrug.

Ricardo turned around and repeated the request in English. Gary nodded and waited for him to get out and open the door...there was an image to be maintained. The guard approached Gary and nodded, almost an apology, but he did a good job searching and then stood back. Ricardo underwent the same treatment and then leaned in to pop the trunk. Once the car was searched they were told where to park it outside the gate, no one drove in.

Gary followed Ricardo up a stone lined driveway towards the front of the church. The guards did not escort them so Gary had a chance to look around. A rectory sat off to one side and what appeared to be battlements faced the sea. Several walking patrols, but still only a handful of men about.

The rectory was of solid stone just like the church. But there were several outbuildings of corrugated metal along the outer walls and Gary saw large air conditioning units sitting beside them. Bunkhouses or drug processing facilities, it was probably both. Something that required cool air for people to stand being inside during the heat of the day, but there was no telling how many were inside.

The wide steps of the church beckoned, drawing them in under the arched front. There were four solid looking doors and stained glass windows rose above that, all of it looking hundreds of years old. The bell tower and spires reached up over their heads, a great position for a guard, but Gary saw no movement up there. One of the massive doors slowly opened as they reached the top step, and a priest in traditional black garb stepped out.

"Gentlemen, welcome," He said in Spanish.

"Gary Lewis," He said, replying in English. "Pleased to meet you." The priest shook his hand and motioned them inside.

The first thing that struck a visitor was the temperature; it was ten degrees cooler inside the church. The second was the size of the church, it was small...a deceptive look since the outside seemed so large. But the ceiling was vaulted high above and sunlight beamed down on the paintings and statuary which lined the church walls.

"You have come to see the art and here it is. This is the...." The priest began in Spanish.

"I am sorry, Padre, this man has no Spanish," Ricardo explained.

The priest smiled, and continued in perfect English. "I am Father Morales, the curator of this church. Now it is more of a museum than anything else. The art work is a priceless relic of our founder's times; the Spanish brought us many gifts and built this as a shrine for it."

"Father, we have another reason for this visit," Gary said. "I am here to see my son, he was the boy taken with Miguel Alvarez, the mayor's son."

The priest stopped in his tracks and genuflected in front of a statue, and when he arose the smile was gone. "I am not a part of that business; it is most unfortunate that you do not come for the art." He sighed, and then nodded. "I will take you to the Commander's office."

He led them down a side aisle and out through a side door into the breezeway beyond. The covered passageway led them towards the back of the rectory building. Gary managed a peek over the low walls as they walked. The sea stretched out in the distance, but below them a stone pier jutted out into the water and a large yacht was tied up against the seawall. Ignacio was here, how perfect.

13:23 hours

There was a guard at the door to the rectory but the man held it open as they entered. Father Morales led them through the kitchen and into a hallway which ran towards the front of the building. When they reached the front entrance hall the priest halted, and here a man sat behind a desk.

"Commander," The priest said in Spanish. "This man comes to see his son, the American boy Ignacio holds in the vault."

"He comes to see..." The man began.

"He does not speak our language; will you need me to interpret?" The priest asked.

"No." And he continued in barely understandable English. "What is your business here?"

"I have come to see my son, this is an unfortunate mistake. I am willing to pay for your inconvenience if that is necessary. Can you make that decision, Commander?" Gary asked.

"You come to ransom him?" The man laughed and spat on the floor. And then in Spanish he called Jerry a little faggot. Gary tried not to wince...so they knew...shit.

"I must take him home, he returns to school in a week...to whom must I speak?" Gary asked.

The man got up from behind his desk and approached, trying to intimidate Gary with his considerable size. One slash with the edge of Gary's hand would have broken his neck, but he backed up, deferring to the Commander politely.

"You have come on a fool's errand, the boy is worthless to us," He said.

"But he is valuable to my wife, I will pay your price for his freedom," Gary said.

The Commander unsnapped the holster he wore at his side, pulling out an old American Colt .45 pistol. He didn't point it directly at Gary but the threat was clear.

"How do you know of this...who told you your son was here?" He asked.

"I asked Miguel's father, he said it was none of my business, he could not tell me. So I bought the information from his deputy and I am here. May I see someone in charge, please?"

Good, let them take it out on the deputy...he was a dead man anyway.

The Commander laughed again and looked up the staircase. Gary turned his head and saw a young girl standing there, maybe all of thirteen or fourteen, a beautiful child.

"Maria," A voice called from above and a tall slender man descended the stairs; he put a hand on her shoulder and then looked down. Ignacio Morales, Gary was sure.

"Pedro, what is this disturbance?" Ignacio asked.

"Excuse me, Mr. Morales," the man replied. "It is nothing."

"Put that weapon away," Ignacio said, his eyes shifting to the girl.

"Are you perhaps in charge of affairs here?" Gary asked.

Ignacio smiled and patted the girl's bottom. "Run back and play, Maria...that's a good girl."

He continued down the stairs and ignored Gary. The smile was gone, and his countenance stormy. Ignacio's hand snaked out and he slapped the Commander across the face. Air hissed through his teeth and his voice was full of threat. "Have I not told you…how many times do I have to say it? You will frighten Maria with your pistol; no one is to carry weapons around her." Another slap. "Do you hear me, you ignorant pig?"

"Yes, Mr. Morales…I apologize."

Then Ignacio turned back to Gary with a tight smile. "And of what affairs do you speak?" He asked.

"I am Gary Lewis, my son Jerry seems to have been caught up in something I am too smart to question, your business not mine. But I must have him back, his school is looking for him and my wife is beside herself. Have you sent a ransom demand for him yet?"

Ignacio slowly shook his head. His eyes bored into Gary's and a wry smile crept to his lips.

"This was not about ransom, your son is the boyfriend to Eduardo's little fairy child, do you know this?"

"I...I had an idea. Look, his mother raises the boy. I am away on business so much it is impossible for me to keep track of his every little move...as for his sexual...." Ignacio held up his hand to stop the chatter and Gary sputtered to a halt.

"It is your family's business just as this whole thing is mine. I have no use for your son, he was there, he attempted to defend Eduardo's son and he was taken...only slightly damaged, I assure you."

"He's hurt," Gary gasped. He deserved an Emmy for the performance, but his only real audience was this man, who would soon be dead if he had harmed Jerry.

"The boy is fine, a few scratches, a broken wrist...that is all. You have a spirited son; his sexuality is not of my concern. What kind of ransom did you have in mind?" Ignacio asked.

"If he's all right...a million...five million...but I must see him now," Gary said.

"Yes, I understand your concern. Five million would be most adequate, and how would this be paid?"

"I...I can't wire money to your account, my government would trace it." Gary pretended to think for a moment and then smiled. "I could donate it to the good Father here for his church museum."

Ignacio laughed. "And he would appreciate every penny, I assure you. This may be done, how soon?"

"Oh...it's Friday, the banks close in four hours, I don't know. I have to make a phone call and find out. What if it's Monday?"

"Then you may come back for him...but you may see him now."

13:30 hours

Gary's belt buckle vibrated twice. He gripped the belt and smiled, as if what Ignacio had just said was fine. And then he felt the vibration twice more. Damn, the circuits were down and the buckle was automatically trying to restore contact. He had no way of telling Tommy what was going on. The buckle made two more attempts and then stopped, Gary was screwed.

Without radio contact he was lost, their coordination down the drain. The button on the jeans was only good for close up work Oliver had said, this was bad news. Gary followed Ignacio and the priest, with Ricardo trailing. Ignacio stopped when they reached the side door to the church and told Ricardo to go wait with the car. Ricardo smiled and gave them a slight bow. The car was a safe place for him since there was a spare pistol under the seat cushions.

Ignacio led them back into the church and across the center aisle. Father Morales bent his knee and crossed himself as they passed the before the altar, Gary simply crossed himself and gave a slight bow. But he saw a look of surprise on the priest's face at the gesture, Ignacio had seen nothing. They proceeded to the far corner and down a narrow spiral staircase built into an alcove. It was even cooler down below.

An archway at the bottom led them into a low vaulted space that spread out before them. Again there were more statues and tombs lined the walls with massive carved figures in stone. Gary saw the main stairway descending from behind the upstairs altar and got a glimpse of the iron door at the back. Everything was as Ricardo had told him, so far so good...except that the team couldn't hear a thing that was going on.

A small hallway off to one side and another metal door. Ignacio opened a porthole and looked into the room, he gestured for Gary to look. There was a wooden table and one chair in this tiny room, maybe ten feet square. A bed sat against the wall under a barred window, one too small for a person to escape. And there sat the boys, both of them staring up at the porthole in the door.

Jerry's wrist was crudely bandaged, but Miguel looked fine. They both looked tired and dispirited. Neither of them should have been caught up in this crazy man's scheming. Gary turned to look at Ignacio.

"I must speak to him, explain what I am here to do...give him hope," He said.

"No...That is not a part of our deal."

Gary glared at him. "Look, you're used to having your way...but so am I. Damn...I don't even know your name."

"Morales, Ignacio Morales...I am the boss here."

"Yes...yes you are, but this is a church and these boys are in the house of God. If you believe in the sacred relationship...the trust between a father and son then you will let me in there and I will speak with him. He is hurt, he is in despair...I must give him hope and the knowledge that I am here to rescue him."

Ignacio seemed shocked, and quickly glanced at the priest. Gary didn't know what their arrangement was, but he knew the priest was on his side in this argument.

"Fine...you may have time with him. I do not know what Eduardo will do for his own son," Ignacio said.

It was Gary's turn to smile. "But I do," He said.

"What? He had better not get foolish..." Ignacio began.

"My driver overheard a conversation. Did you know that Eduardo's brother is the military commander in this area...I think you may have a large problem, sir. Why do you think I am here so soon? I must get Jerry out of here before things get out of hand."

Ignacio produced a key and unlocked the door, shoving Gary towards the opening. He stepped in and heard the door lock behind him.

"I will come back for you...have no fear," Ignacio said through the door and then he was gone. The portal closed and Gary knew the priest would leave them alone for now.

"Gary," Miguel cried, and Gary put a finger to his lips.

"Mr. Lewis, I am Jerry's father...remember?"

Jerry looked up from the bed and Gary knew he was hurt worse than Ignacio had revealed. "I think one of my ribs is broken, it hurts to breathe," Jerry said.

"They have not listened to us, I pleaded for a doctor." Miguel said.

"Soon, I am here to ransom you, Jerry," Gary said. Again holding that finger to his lips. He swept his eyes around the room looking for it...it had to be here. There was a hole in the lighting fixture that looked out of place. He moved the chair over and stood on it, gazing closely at the fixture...sure enough, a microphone.

He mimed someone listening and pointed at the fixture, both boys nodded.

"Ignacio seems to agree, Jerry...I pay and we can walk out of here. I'm sorry, Miguel, you're not part of the deal. So how have you been, are they feeding you?"

"Yes, we get a meal every day," Miguel said. He looked puzzled as Gary studied the door, continuing to make bland conversation.

"Your mother will be so glad to see you, Jerry...she's terribly worried."

Gary checked the door frame for weakness, and found none. He stood on the bed and checked the window, maybe a charge could be dropped in there to take out the door but how would he tell them to do that? Shit...shit...shit, why was the communications down?

"You are so good to rescue him," Miguel said, catching on to the game.

Gary mimed the three of them, guns shooting and them running away. Gary pointed at himself and held up six other fingers. Miguel smiled and nodded, help was on the way.

13:30 hours, seventy miles to the north in Puerto Juarez.

"Damn...damn...damn," Oliver screamed, throwing down his headphones.

Chris ran over from where he was making sandwiches on the kitchen counter. "What?"

"Listen to this," Oliver said. He turned the speakers on. A babble of Spanish came over the frequency, a constant droning cadence of words and numbers.

"What is it, where's Gary?"

"He's still out there, but this sounds like the Mexican Navy. Only they would have the equipment to reach this frequency. They're too powerful...we can't communicate with Gary...and the team can't either. The system sent him the failure signal, I hope he gets it. "

"FUCK," Chris screamed, causing Oliver to jump back.

"Whoa, boyo...Tommy has a cell phone."

"What about the button? We don't know where Gary is... FUCK," He yelled again. Chris paced around the room and stopped. "You said the button works well over water...what five miles?"

"Yeah, that's the maximum range...Oh no, you aren't sailing this boat down there, Tommy will..."

"FUCK," Chris yelled again...and then they heard the knocking up on deck.

"Hello...Chris? Are you there?"

Chris ran to the companionway ladder and scooted upwards. He was back two minutes later with Eduardo in tow.

"Oliver, this is Eduardo," Chris said. "The mayor...father of the second hostage. We are moving the boat."

"No buddy we can't...they expect us to be here when they get back," Oliver said.

"So call Tommy, tell him we're gonna be a little closer that's all. Eduardo is a sailor, he'll help too."

"Uh...I don't know about this," Oliver said, but he picked up his satellite phone.

"What is the problem, Chris?" Eduardo asked.

"We've lost communication with Gary, he's inside with Ignacio and we can't hear what's happening. The others don't know either; the whole thing is screwed up because your Navy is using the frequency." The boy was out of breath for a moment, and Eduardo smiled.

"I will assist you, my Miguel needs me and I must go with you."

Oliver slapped the phone shut. "Jeez, Tommy agrees with you...how do we sail this thing?"

"I know how, Gary taught me...taught all of us," Chris said.

"Aye, aye...Captain, we will follow you," Eduardo said.

13:45 hours, Puerto Juarez.

Eduardo cast off the lines to the dock as Chris fired up the diesel engine. Oliver used a boat hook to push them away from the wooden dock and they drifted. Slowly Chris engaged the transmission to the propeller shaft as he had been taught and the boat began to move. He allowed the craft to ease away from the dock and when they hit a hundred feet he pushed the throttles in.

The Brass Balls seemed to dig into the water as the bow came up and the boat ran towards the open sea. But their top speed with the engine was only five knots, it was not enough. Chris looked back at the dock and noted the movement of the pennant on the tall pole. There was a stiff southerly breeze, it would be enough.

Chris had them a mile off shore when he throttled back. "Let's go sailing," He yelled with a laugh and Eduardo laughed along with him.

They pulled on lines and the little foresail moved upwards as Chris pushed the boom towards the starboard side. He rushed to the wheel and held on as Eduardo cranked up the mainsail which immediately billowed to starboard. They were a dozen points off course by the time Chris managed to make corrections and he smiled.

"Better hang on, we got a good breeze blowing," He yelled, and he cranked the wheel over to take them on a southerly course.

The Brass Balls seemed to leap out of the water as the sails captured the wind, healing the boat over. They began to pick up speed and were soon running parallel to the coast. Oliver grinned as Eduardo slowly fed out more line, allowing the full force of the wind to take them. And suddenly their speed made them feel like they were flying.

They all whooped with glee but Chris told Eduardo to tighten up, he had never driven the boat this hard before. They settled in at fourteen knots, a respectable speed. Chris quizzed the navigation program and entered the GPS coordinates for Playa del Carmen.

The radar showed only a few boats within five miles as they drifted out towards the three mile limit. He set the auto pilot, pushed the warning alarm and sat back. Oliver nodded and went back to the radio. Eduardo sat beside the boy.

"Your father taught you well, Chris...he would be very proud of this moment. I certainly am," Eduardo said.

Chris bit his lip and then turned, staring onto Eduardo's eyes. "But you are not really proud of your son...why?"

It was Eduardo's turn to gaze down at his lap. "He is...he is less than a man in my eyes. I know about him and his friends...I know what he has done."

"And what is that, Eduardo? What are you so ashamed to tell me?"

"My son is...homosexual, did you know that he and your brother...."

"Oh cut the crap," Chris said. "I'm gay, Gary is gay...we're all gay, well not the soldiers...but who cares? This isn't about sex; this is about rescuing three people I love...and one I can't live without."

"You...you and Gary?"

"Yes...I'm his lover...his partner for life, not his son. I'm so glad we decided that while I was still young, you have no idea how much confidence that gives me to say...Fuck you, Eduardo. Now either you get over it and accept who we are or get the hell off my boat."

Chris grinned at the shock on Eduardo's face, but then the man smiled....and then laughed. "Yes, Gary has chosen well." He sighed, and then placed a hand on Chris' shoulder. "It is a hard life, my friend...here it is so dangerous to be known...I fear for Miguel, do you understand this? My father's heart is so concerned that he will come to shame or get hurt by this...this feeling he has..."

"Yes, Eduardo...I understand your concern. Miguel is a smart boy and I believe that's why he wants to leave here so he can be himself. He can't face telling you...you have to tell him you know. And you have to accept him as he is...as we all are."

Eduardo looked out at the coastline. "My country is full of foolish men, but I have been just one of them until now. You are my captain and I must obey your orders. Yes, he must go north to your country and be with the man he chooses, I see this. I must fight for my son today and speak with him tomorrow. Today will decide if I succeed tomorrow."

"You will succeed," Chris said. "We will win our battle today, I know it."

"We will find out soon, in two hours we will be there," Eduardo said.

"Just in time to defend ourselves I bet. Things might get hot down there, we may have to lend a hand," Chris said. "Go tell Oliver it's time to lock and load."

Eduardo went down the companionway ladder and thirty seconds later Oliver popped back up. "You mean...oh freakin hell...you're probably right, I'll load 'em up anyways."

Chris grinned. Yes...he was Captain of the Brass Balls.

14:00 hours

Tommy sat outside the cantina watching the men on the street. Many of them looked like they did on the unemployment line in Newark or Detroit. Jobs were scarce here; maybe that's why Morales hired them as thugs. But they weren't professionals, not by a long stretch of anyone's imagination.

He and Jackson had walked through the town, pausing at the gate to the church grounds and pointing up at the spires. Tommy took a photo with his digital camera on full telephoto, but even now he saw no watchers up there. Stupid, you always manned the high ground.

Ricardo was sitting in the car and he rolled down the window as they walked by.

"The vault, under the church," Ricardo said without turning his head. Tommy smiled and walked on by as if nothing had occurred. That was a valuable piece of information.

Bobby was probably in back near that cemetery by now and no one could look down on him. The call from Oliver had been a shock, but he had agreed with the boy's intentions. They needed communications back up and running; at least they needed to hear what was being said...Gary could adlib his situation.

Lord, he must be proud of that boy. A valiant warrior at such a tender age, he had to respect that. Maybe the rest he didn't want to think about too hard, he just couldn't understand that kind of feeling. A boy and a man...together...like that?

But he was well read, he knew about ancient Greece and the relationships...Alexander the Great too. It didn't mean that Gary was any less a warrior; he just loved the way he did...that's all. And it was so obvious that the boy was totally his...the eyes said it and Tommy believed in eyes. Including the ones that followed Jackson as he returned to his seat.

"You see the lady watching me, huh? You do don't you…some if us got it," Jackson said, his face split with a grin.

"And some of us is gonna slam a boot between your legs to chill you out, brother. Calm down, she probably has all the STD's anyways...or did you sleep through that lecture in boot camp as well?"

"Fuck, you're probably right, good lookin out for me."

"See anything?" Tommy asked, sipping on his bottled fruit drink. It would probably give him the shits tomorrow, but he couldn't afford to drink the local beer...it was too damn hot.

"Nothin to see...what the hell is goin on?" Jackson asked.

"Bunch of guys went runnin up to the church a few minutes ago. Looks like some kind of muster, and we know that can't be good. Oliver won't be in range for uh...damn, two hours at least, 16:00 hours. I cannot continue to sit here that long...looks too suspicious."

"I could eat, but its too hot for that, even they aren't eating," Jackson said, nodding towards the citizens who slowly walked in the shade wherever they could.

"Yeah, I'm waiting for Clint Eastwood to come riding in on his old paint horse and glare at us...we better move on somewhere, lets go to the beach," Tommy said..

"Yeah, we can play some football with Nate and Mark."

"Yeah...now think about what you just said, dummy. I don't want to play with that ball you gave him ever again...you catch my drift?" Tommy laughed. "Blow your frickin head off."

They wandered down to the beach to look at the water and take some more photos. They ran into Nate and Mark sitting in the shade of an umbrella eating ice cream.

"Howdy gents," Nate said. "Just down for the sights?"

"Yeah, the town is heating up...sure wish I knew what Gary was doing?" Tommy said.

"Probably rubbing elbows with Ignacio, drinkin wine and having a cigar," Mark laughed.

"I bet it's a lot grimmer than that," Tommy said.

14:30 hours

Gary had torn the bed sheet up and wrapped Jerry's ribs with it, at least the boy could breathe without too much pain. Ignacio had not come back yet, Gary wondered if he ever would.

The team was scattered around town by now. Every once and a while he said something that might get picked up by the button on his jeans, something that might give them a clue as to what was going on...if it worked. But he was mindful of the microphone over their heads.

No wonder Ignacio and the guards knew the boys were gay, their conversation had been overheard...and as lovers they probably said too much. But Ignacio wasn't really a moral person, that young girl had probably been his lover for a while. What a complicated web of bullshit.

They sat in silence on the bed, knowing they could say little. Outside Bobby was probably hidden in the surrounding cover, his eyes on that back door. But the microphone in the light fixture would pick up the blast if he blew the door and guards would come...what a mess.

So they sat, listening for sounds...sounds that never happened. No one was approaching; no one was coming to let him out. If Ignacio came alone or with the priest he would take them down with his bare hands. Ignacio had been foolish to come down here the first time without an escort. But if the priest came alone he would find himself in this cell as they made for that back door. The door seemed like the best means of escape, but then what?

Gary could not see trekking through the undergrowth with Jerry in such a sad condition, it would take too long. But he smiled remembering the look he'd seen on Ignacio's face when he mentioned the military commander. No wonder they had been left alone so long, Ignacio was probably checking things out.

15:20 hours

Tommy now sat in the shade of the umbrella with the others. He'd walked up the beach and around the corner of the stone seawall. The yacht sat like a tank against the stone jetty, and there were guards standing at the access point.

Something was up, he could feel it. The men looked agitated, alert despite the heat of the afternoon. He watched as four men carried a long box down the jetty to the boat. That box looked familiar, he'd seen one before. Bobby would recognize it in a flash, and then it hit him. Rockets, those were shoulder fired missiles...Stingers. Damn, they were bringing out the heavy artillery. Were they expecting an attack?

He went back to the umbrella and spread the news. "I bet Gary has them worried about something. We didn't create it but the diversion has begun," Tommy said.

"Damn, and all I brought was a football," Mark said.

"Do I get to throw it?" Jackson asked.

"How far can you throw...better, how accurate are you?" Mark asked.

"We had this play in college...a flea-flicker pass from the quarterback and then I would run to the sidelines and heave the ball towards the end zone...maybe sixty yards or so to be fairly accurate," Jackson said.

"Oh God...a Hail Mary pass," Nate said.

"Well, we won a few games with that," Jackson said.

"Better than I can do, guys," Mark said. "Okay, it's your ball. But I keep the transmitter button in my hands...it's all in the timing."

Jackson grinned. "You got it, when do we go?"

"When the time is right," Tommy said, "I'll let you know."

15:30 hours

Chris watched as the outline of Cozumel Island appeared on the radar scope. The GPS showed him where Playa del Carmen was, that little flashing dot on the navigation screen. It was still too far for a visual sighting, but he remembered that Gary had talked about the church being the landmark.

Eduardo was in the bow with the binoculars, sweeping the coastline. He'd been here before by sea and assured them that he knew what to look for. Gary had also mentioned an armed yacht of some kind, that couldn't be good. The Brass Balls was a wood and fiberglass boat, their only defense was a coat of paint.

"Oliver...bring that Uzi up here," Chris yelled.

A moment later the man appeared with the small machine gun in his hands. "Is something happening?" He asked.

"No, just show me how to fire it, Gary says it has a small kick...what's that mean?"

"It means you point it at what you want to shoot and it won't track off the target so much like other guns." Oliver looked around and grinned. "Easiest way to find out it to use it. We sure have lots of ammo."

He checked the safety before handing the weapon to Chris. The boy smiled, the gun felt good in his hands...powerful. The magazine stuck out almost further than the gun was long and Chris noticed it appeared to be two magazines taped together...he asked why.

"Yeah, only thirty rounds, a few squirts on full auto," Oliver said. "But you push that button and the spent magazine pops out, turn it around and you have another full magazine to use. Push it in until you hear the click and you're reloaded. That is the safety. Please leave it on at all times unless you plan to fire...okay?"

"And the range?" Chris asked.

"You ain't gonna hit anything accurately beyond twenty-five yards with that thing, you don't have the experience. It's a close up weapon, but it will scare the hell out of people when you cut loose."

Chris turned the Uzi towards the stern, pointing it out over the empty sea behind them. He toggled the safety and slid a finger into the trigger guard...then he squeezed.

The noise was instantaneous, like a ripping sound as the bullets flew out of the short barrel. Chris saw the water behind them froth as the bullets hit. Then there was a clicking sound, the gun was empty. He quickly hit the button and the magazine popped out in his hand. He turned it around and pushed inwards until he heard a click, he pulled the trigger again, only this time he let go right away.

The Uzi spit out a few bullets and stopped, he pulled again, the same results. He liked the way it felt, so he squeezed off short bursts until the gun clicked empty. Then he looked up at Oliver's astonished face.

"Cool, think I got it now," Chris said.

"Damn, boyo...killer," Oliver said.

The radar alarm went off and Chris looked down at the screen. "Five miles, Oliver...will it work?"

"Let's find out," the man grinned.

Chris looked at the clock and realized they were early. He remembered something about drift and smiled. They had been sailing south with the prevailing current, no wonder his timing was off. He turned the wheel to take them in closer to the coastline and hit the path button on the navigation system. A red line showed up on the screen and he turned the wheel until the line crossed over the GPS marker, they were pointed straight at Gary.

"I got him," Oliver whooped, "but it's faint."

Chris called towards the bow. "Eduardo, what do you see?"

The man came hustling back to the cockpit. "I can see the spires of the church, we are closing."

"Then stay at the wheel for a bit, I need to see what Oliver has discovered. I'm not sure it would be good to just go charging in there, do you?" Chris asked.

"No, my Captain," Eduardo said as he took the wheel. "We must discover what is happening first."

Chris went below and saw Oliver pulling out a small black box from his case. The man grinned. "Been saving this for an emergency, the Mexican Navy isn't gonna like it I'm afraid, but we're in range now and I want that frequency cleared.

He plugged the box onto the back of the radio and smiled as he fingered the button on the side. "Lots of radio operators just went deaf I'm afraid...hope they got good medical benefits."

And then over the speakers Chris heard Gary's voice loud and clear, but he sounded very tired. "Jerry, how's that hand, we need to get you a better bandage."

Oliver tapped the pager control button twice and waited. The change in Gary's voice was immediate as his belt buckle vibrated twice.

"Good, seems we are all back together once again," Gary said. "Recap."

And then he started this monologue which explained everything. "Jerry, how long do you think they will keep us here in this cell under the church? I mean Ignacio hasn't been back for over two hours. Do you think that comment I made about the military swooping in on him has made him nervous? Do you think he's abandoning his position here?

"I sure hope not, we'll be getting hungry soon, I hope the priest brings us dinner at least. It better be him because I sure didn't see any guards standing around in the church, they all seemed to be over in the rectory...but that's probably where the kitchen is anyway.

"Poor Ricardo, just sitting outside the gates in the car wondering what's happening. I hope he's all right. Hey, did you see that big fancy yacht when you first got here? I bet that's Ignacio's private palace sitting out back on the jetty."

Miguel was starting to look anxious and Gary held a finger to his lips. "Did you guys ever meet my friend Bobby? He's a real sapper, always sneaking in my back door when no one was looking. He'd walk straight through my house, turn left down my hallway and sneak into my bedroom when I wasn't expecting him. Of course he'd kick the door down, blasting the lock off and scare the hell out of me. What a joker."

And Oliver whooped. "That's the signal, joker was the go word." He turned on the side band and called out. "Bobby did you get that?"

"B...roger," came back. "In five."

Oliver smiled; Bobby must be damn close to that back door.

"What's going on?" Chris asked.

"Gary told us where he was, in the basement of the church, across the main room and down a hallway. Bobby will blow the back door and go open whatever cell Gary is trapped in."

"And the noise will alert the guards, right...how will they get out?" Chris asked.

"I...I don't know," Oliver said. He turned back to the radio. "T...you copy?"

"T...copy."

"T, we're four miles from your position...is it the beach or the road? Over."

"Christ, stay away from the beach, O...do you copy? They have Stingers on that damn yacht."

Oliver immediately turned pale. "Oh shit, they have shoulder fired missiles on Ignacio's yacht. Uh...we better stay way away from there, Chris. One of those and we're toast."

"But how are they gonna escape, wasn't Mark gonna take out that boat?"

"Yeah, right," Oliver said. "T...copy?"

"T...over."

"No football today?" Oliver asked.

"Too much interference on the front line for the moment and we can't get a clear pass play going...and now we have company coming down the beach. We're all bunched up here, got to move along. Stay away, we might need you so don't go too far...T out."

Nate hefted the golf bag he'd been carrying all afternoon. Every once and a while he had pulled out a five iron and hit a few balls out to sea. He figured it would just be written off as some crazy tourist thing. But now he reached in the bag and slid his hand around the stock of the shotgun.

Down the beach came a dozen armed men. The few people down there moved out of their way and left the beach. Tommy and his guys were the only thing left in their path as they seemed to be heading right for the jetty. They were carrying a box, a very heavy box by the looks of it.

"I smell money," Nate said.

"Uh, oh...I bet they emptied the bank," Tommy said. "Shit, they're leaving out...you heard what Gary said, they think the military is on the way."

Tommy turned away from the approaching men and toggled his radio. "B...how long?"

"B...all set, gonna go any time now."

"T...well we got company and when you go they'll be all kinds of upset. Too many arms down here on the beach, we have to shift towards the town or get caught in the cross fire. I figure you'll have only a few minutes after the bang before you get some company coming your way."

"B...roger that, a quickie."

"T...no doubt."

"One...you copy?"

"Thank God....T...I copy," Gary said

"We heard your speech, moving up the beach towards your position," Tommy said.

No sooner had he said that when Gary heard the sound of keys moving in the door lock.

"B...stop the penetration, hold on...someone is coming for us. One...out."

Tommy sighed, but not for long. The approaching men brought their guns up to the ready position...shit was about to go down. Nate overturned a stone bench and whipped out his shotgun. Mark suddenly had an M-16 in his hands and Jackson pulled out his first pistol.

The armed group hesitated and that was their mistake. Nate started booming off rounds, taking out half the front men with his first three blasts. Mark was more selective, he took out the leader and two of the guys carrying the box. The heavy object fell to the sand, striking a rock and bursting open. The glint of yellow metal spilled out on the beach.

"Gold, I knew it," Nate whooped. And then the bullets began to rain down on them from above.

Gary heard the gunfight begin just as the lock slid back on the cell door. He expected to see Ignacio's face or that of an armed guard, but instead it was Father Morales.

"Come...you must come quickly before the guard arrives," the priest said.

Gary and Miguel grasped Jerry arms and pulled him up. Jerry winced and let out a gasp of pain, but he began to walk. They paused at the door.

"Where too, Father?" Gary asked.

"There is no time; I must get you out. I cannot allow this holy place to become a battleground. I will open the back door, you may escape that way. Please, do not damage my church," The priest begged.

They walked up the hallway to the increased sound of gunfire from above and outside. The priest led them towards the grand staircase and then around behind it to the metal door.

"Go to the trees, my son," He said. "Ignacio will come soon to take the boys away; you will not survive his anger. This has all been a trick, but he is scared...they run away and leave me alone once again."

The priest fished out a key and unlocked the door, pulling it inwards with a loud squeal. The sound of gunfire was louder now, off to the left towards the beach. Miguel and Jerry stepped out and stopped.

"Afternoon, gents," Bobby said from his position against the wall. "Don't step out too far; there are a few bad guys up there shooting at us." He pointed up and to the left, at the overhead battlement beyond the church walls.

Gary reached for Bobby's back pack and retrieved his Taurus pistols. "Where do we go now?"

"Trees are too far, beach is closer, but the main fight is down there...and so is that damn yacht," Bobby said. And immediately they heard the sound of a heavy machine gun open fire. "Yup, figured they had heavy weapons...fifty caliber sounds like."

Gary shook his head; this was getting out of hand. He reached for his belt. "T....copy?"

"Yeah...One...roger...a little busy here."

"We're trapped behind the church, snipers overhead."

"So big deal, they got a fifty working the walls...I'm staying low for now. They moved that yacht off the pier, it's a floating battery."

Gary could hear the machine gun and knew it was trained on his men. Time to take charge. He turned to the priest standing in the doorway.

"Father, you have the only key to this door?"

"Yes, the guards do not have one."

"Then go back inside and lock it, hide your key...but this door must remain closed so they can't get to us from behind," Gary said.

"But..."

"No...do it, we won't be coming back this way," Gary said. "And thank you, you are a good man for setting us free."

"I am God's man...only He tells me what to do," Father Morales said. "Go with God, my son."

The priest went back inside and the door closed with another squeal, and then Gary heard the lock snap shut. Bobby shook his head. "That might have been the only way out of this," He said.

"No, we go on...to the beach," Gary said.

He stepped out from the wall and a few bullets flew down towards him. Gary tapped out a few replies with his Taurus and heard a scream. "They won't be so accurate after that...come on."

They clung to the wall, the fire from above reached out to the ground yards away. The guys overhead weren't even looking down anymore. Gary kept an eye on the battlement as it curved beyond the church walls. Soon they would be able to see the beach and the jetty.

"T...One...copy?"

"Go ahead, Tommy."

"The boat is coming back to the jetty; they gave up firing at our position. We have solid cover here, but now I expect a banzai charge or some such shit. You out?"

"One...yeah, just coming around the wall towards the beach...should see the yacht soon."

"Heads up then...your boy is sitting about a half mile offshore in the sailboat...I told him to stay away because of those Stingers...but he's in range if they want him."

Oh Lord, don't do anything foolish Chris. "Who's got the football?" Gary asked.

"Jackson...he says a Hail Mary will work."

"Christ...we get one shot at that. Can you get up on the battlement?"

"Uh...maybe. We shot most of those guys already...resistance is futile," Tommy laughed.

Gary smiled, Tommy was on a roll. "Take the high ground, you'll have a shorter pass from there and good cover for the aftermath."

"Gotcha...the big bang...roger, T out."

Gary crouched low and slid to the ground. He could see the ocean and the beach now. He slithered forward and almost gasped, the damn jetty was right there...maybe fifty yards away. It seemed like most of Ignacio's thugs were out there now getting ready to escape by boat.

There were men all over the place, but they were in position to defend against Tommy on the far side. Gary looked up and saw the battlement by the rear of the rectory. It would be a long pass, but Jackson could do it. And then he saw the girl.

Damn Ignacio, what was she doing there? The girl was standing behind the forward cabin, a safe place where the bullets from shore couldn't reach her. She was wearing an orange life vest, but she would get killed when the football went off...they all would.

"T...One."

"Go One."

"Hold the pass for my signal; do not pass without my command."

"T...roger."

Christ...what was he gonna do now? Gary's eye followed the lines of the boat towards the bow and looked at the mooring lines. One of them in front dangled in the water, the boat wasn't really secured to the pier anymore, just at the stern. He could climb the rope and...and what? Throw her overboard? What if she couldn't swim?

Bobby and the boys were standing several yards back and couldn't see any of this, he didn't want them to. And then his eyes focused out beyond the yacht and there was the Brass Balls under full sail. He could make out the small figure at the helm and then the boat began a turn, tacking away from the shoreline. Good boy, get the hell out of here.

Okay, go for the girl and get shot along the way. It was at least fifty feet to the water from where he lay. Another hundred by water to the rope and then a climb. What if the girl screamed, what if Ignacio heard her?

Gary took off his boots and belt, dropping his pistols he began to take off his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Bobby yelled.

"Going for a swim...what's it look like?" Gary replied.

Bobby eased up closer and saw the yacht. "Oh no, not the boat...are you crazy?"

"Certifiable."

But suddenly the firefight took on a new dimension. Tommy must have reached the battlement because the men on the boat turned their way. Gary watched the girl scoot around to the bow of the boat and crouch down behind the anchor winch. She was at the very front now, no where else to hide.

From the chatter of the guns up top, Tommy and the boys must be raining hell on the jetty now. Gary saw men fall and a lot of them ran inside the boat's lower deck for cover. Suddenly there was a shout from overhead.

"You gonna stand there all day or what? Let's waste the bastards," Tommy yelled down.

Someone was at the controls of the yacht and they must have forgotten they were tied off at the stern. The boat lurched forward and the rope became taught. A bunch of men scrambling aboard fell over and Gary looked at the bow. The girl had tumbled towards the railing and was holding on for dear life with only one hand.

Gary watched in horror as the poor kid lost her grip, she plunged almost twenty feet to the water. He didn't think, he just ran. The sprint across to the water's edge wasn't witnessed from the jetty, but once he got wet he saw some bullets fly his way. He heard Bobby's Uzi let off a staccato burst of fire, raking the exposed side of the yacht.

Tommy could see him now and the battlement opened up with a hail of bullets. Someone on the yacht returned fire with the fifty caliber mounted on the upper level beside the flying bridge. But Mark snapped off shots with his M-16 and soon there was no one to stand behind the big gun.

A man ran out with an axe and cut the mooring line, he went down but the rope parted. Gary had just swum around the end of the jetty when the yacht suddenly lurched past him, the bow wave pushing him back hard against the stone. But he saw a flash of orange right in front of him and he lunged for it, grasping the vest and the girl in it.

The yacht passed before him, the sides coming awfully close to scraping the pier and thus Gary with the girl in his arms. He let the wave carry him towards the end of the pier and he ducked around front, pulling her along with him. He rounded the other side and hid a few yards along, out of sight...out of range.

He looked up at the battlement and saw Tommy there with Jackson beside him. Now...and Gary raised his arm to throw an imaginary pass. He watched Tommy yell. Jackson pulled his arm back and Gary saw the ball fly.

He pulled the girl along the wall, putting as much distance as he could between them and the yacht. His mind had been counting and when he reached ten he pulled the girl close and pushed up against the stones of the jetty.

The blast was the loudest thing he'd ever heard and even the stones behind him seemed to jump in their foundation. The pressure wave underwater slammed them against the jetty, knocking the breath out of Gary's lungs. His ears rang and he gasped, but his arms responded and he held on to the girl with all his might.

It was a good thing they were close to the jetty because all kinds of debris began to rain down, much of it on fire. Gary pulled the girl along as the pall of smoke drifted across his eyes and now he coughed as well. But he felt the sand under his toes and suddenly remembered he was in his stocking feet.

He dug in and almost ran from the water towards the sand at the base of the jetty. He lay the girl down on the beach and ripped off the life vest, she wasn't breathing. He grasped her head and used his mouth to fill her lungs. Once, twice...three times he breathed life into her. And she coughed, gasping for air.

Gary turned her on her side and she vomited sea water, continuing to cough...but she was alive. He realized he was unarmed, but then a familiar face peered down at him.

"You okay?" Tommy yelled, but all Gary heard was the ringing in his ears from the blast.

He tapped an ear and shook his head, the ringing continued. Jackson leaned down and scooped up the girl like she was nothing. Tommy and Nate helped Gary to his feet, and for the first time he saw the damage.

Stones had been flung from the jetty's walls and flaming wreckage lay floating about on the oily waters. The area by the sea wall was devastated, but there was not a single armed man in sight except for his team.

"Ignacio?" Gary said, hearing his voice in his chest, the ears were shot to hell.

Tommy grinned and drew a hand across his throat. Gary grinned as Jerry and Miguel walked up and hugged him. The men stood around and suddenly Gary remembered...Chris. He turned to look out at the sea and saw the most beautiful sight in his life.

The Brass Balls was closing fast, all sails flying in Chris' haste. But as the boat came within two hundred yards of the damaged pier Gary could see Oliver and another man cranking at the winch as the sail came down. Chris used the headway to glide towards a landing on the undamaged side. Gary smiled as the boat barely kissed the pier, allowing Oliver to leap off and tie up.

In a flash, Chris was over the side, the Uzi hanging on a strap around his neck. And he ran, ran like the wind, leaping into Gary's arms almost knocking the both of them over. And as Gary hugged his boy, he looked over Chris' shoulder and saw Eduardo's smile before everything faded to black.

On to Chapter Eleven

Back to Chapter Nine

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"Brass Balls" Copyright © 2011 by Chris James. All rights reserved.
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