Clay was back at the Dive Shop at twelve-thirty with two roast beef sandwiches he had Mama reluctantly cut off of her Sunday roast.

Clay went to the Conservancy to catch up on his paperwork, but he couldn't keep his mind on the work and he went back to the Conservancy house before returning to the shop until it was dinner time. He brought sandwiches with him.

"Taggart, Mama sent you a couple of very nice looking roast beef sandwiches. They look so good I nearly ate one on the way here?"

"I was about to pick up the phone and dial JK's. Roast beef sounds way better than another order of friend clams," Tag said.

Tag wasted no time digging in. Like Dylan, Tag was always hungry. He did start his days shortly after five each morning, and he kept the shop open until nine each night. He'd brought a cot from home and started sleeping at the shop four or five nights a week. This time of year the campgrounds stayed full.

"You want some coffee with that, Taggart?"

"Nah, I'll grab me one of those orange sodas. The soft drink man is due tomorrow, and I've still got a couple of orange sodas left. You heard anything at all from Popov. He's been gone for over a week. Why hasn't he called to let us know if he was getting anywhere?"

"I haven't heard a word. It's another world in Asia. Might not be able to figure out the phones over there,' Clay said.

"Everyone leaves and no one comes back," Tag said.

"Isn't that the truth, Taggart."

"You figure they'll come back one day?"

"One day," Clay said. "One day soon would be my hope."

"I was about to make a JK's run when you brought these. As much as I love his clams, these sure hit the spot. Thanks, Clay."

"Not a problem. You do all the work. I can feed you when I think about it. I just don't think about it as often as I should."

Clay had nothing planned and he figured he'd stay with Taggart for a while. He was alone in the shop most of the time. He didn't even take out the Gulf tour boat any longer. His Uncle Jim did that so he could be in the shop if anyone needed something.

As Clay was yawning and thinking about heading home, the phone rang. Tag was putting the trash from lunch in the can when he picked up.

"Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop, Dive speaking."

"That's not how I taught you to answer the phone, Tag?"

"Ivan, is this you? Where the hell are you? Why haven't you called? The shop could have burned down. I could have quit for all you knew. Where are you?"

"I'm in ... " which is all Tag heard.

Clay snatched the phone right out of Tag's hand.

"He was just about to tell me where he is," Tag complained.

"Ivan? Where are you? How are you? When the hell are you coming home? I'm a little sick of you being halfway round the world."

"Funny thing about that, Babe. I'm standing here in Tampa wondering where my transportation home is. Didn't you get my message?" Ivan asked.

"What message?"

"Sorry, slipped my mind. I meant to send you a message. We just landed. I'm home, Babe. Just waiting for you to come pick my ass up at the Tampa Airport. Where are you?" Ivan sang.

"Ivan! Ivan!" Clay said, throwing the phone at Tag as he started for the door.

"Tell him, I love him. Tell him I'll be there in an hour or so," Clay said disappearing out the door.

Tag listened to the tires of the Buick screeching as he headed for Harry's.

"I love you," Tag said without warmth.

"Well, I'm rather fond of you, Tag, but you do realize I have a lover? Come to think of it. I was just talking to same. Where'd he go?"

"I think he's halfway to Tampa. When he realizes he forgot the plane, he'll be back for it. That's a dirty trick you played on him, Boss, and come to think of it, I need a day off now that I think of it."

Ivan was laughing too hard to talk. He sounded happy because he was happy. He was finally home.

"He said to tell you that. I love you, that is. He'll be there in an hour, but he needs to warm up the Apache. That'll take a few minutes. The way he left out of here, it won't take as long as usual. No doubt he'll stay wide open all the way there."

"He doesn't know where I am at the Tampa airport," Ivan said. "This place is massive."

"Little late to worry about that. He's on the way. Keep your eyes open."

"When he calls to ask you where we are, we're next to the last hangar north of the north/south runway. It's the big North American plane that's parked there. It's the biggest plane near where its parked."

"What are you doing coming home without letting us know. I figured you to be gone another month, Boss."

"If I let you know I was coming, something would have happened, and when I didn't show up at the time I said, I'd be in the doghouse all over again. I wanted my feet on the ground first."

"I'm sure that makes perfect sense to you. You caught that general you were after?"

"More like he caught me. When I left him at the capitol, he was receiving a standing ovation. He's going to run for president or something like that."

"Does this mean I can finally take a day off, Boss?".

"All the days you want Tag. I owe you big time, my friend. I don't know how long I'm here for, but no one has come for me yet. They wanted to take me off the plane in Honolulu, but these boys aren't your ordinary cowboys. I suspect they'd have drawn down on anyone who tried to take me away from them. They were hired to get me home, and I'm home."

"How's Popov?" Tag asked.

"Force of nature. He was in the middle of everything. You don't know how good it was to see someone from the cove. He's gone drinking with the pilot at the moment. He said not to worry about him. I hope he's here by the time Clay gets here. He's not going to drive all the way up here, is he?"

"If he had wings, he'd have been there by now. I heard him turn in at Harry's a few minutes ago. I'm sure I'll hear the Apache in a few minutes."

"Let me know when you hear him take off."

"How long does it take to fly up there? You've flown with him before."

"It's a little more than an hour if he has it wide open, which I expect he will. He can't be any happier to see me than I am to see him, Tag. I spent a lot of long nights alone. Oh, I'm bringing my bodyguard back with me. We'll find things for him to do around the shop. He has to go look in on his Mama. She's in Tampa. He'll be there in a few days. You'll like him."

"I don't like that many people, Ivan. I'll put up with him if you say so. Don't expect me to be his buddy."

"Tag, I expect you to be Tag. That's all I expect," Ivan said.

"I hear the Apache. He's moving. He'll probably take a minute on the runway. Start looking for him in an hour."

"I hope he is careful. I didn't tell him where to find me. I'll have to wait for his plane to land and I'll go to him."

"He's been right anxious for a while. With both you and Dylan gone, well, slow but sure he's running out of momentum. I'm sure glad you're back, Boss. I hear the Apache. He's taking off right now."

Me, too," Ivan said. "We'll talk later."

Ivan hung up the phone and returned to the airliner.

As soon as Tag hung up the phone, it rang again.

"Cove Dive Shop," Dive speaking.

"Taggart, have you lost your mind?" Harry McCallister asked.

"I did. You called to tell me you found it. There's a reward?"

"Taggart, hush. You heard from Ivan? You heard from Clayton?"

"Yes, and yes. Clay was here when Ivan called from Tampa. Clay just cleared the trees behind your house in the Apache. Ivan said he'd be an hour getting to Tampa."

"Ivan wasn't in any distress, was he?"

"Not if you call delighted distress. Sounded happy as a lark to me, Senator. Clay's the one you need to worry about. He says you aren't taking his calls. I'd say he's a bit miffed if you ask me."

"I didn't, Taggart. All my difficulties with Clay ended as soon as Ivan called. He's home because I hired the guys to bring him home."

"You did? I'd say that will make Clayton very happy."

"I'll go wait for Clay to get here," Harry said.

"You're in Tampa, Senator?"

"Don't worry about where I am," Harry said.

The phone went dead.

A little more than an hour later, Clay saw the airport to his right. He did one circle around Tampa's Internation Airport to spot the huge North American 747 Popov left in. It sat at the end of the last row of hangars on the north side of the airport.

Once he spotted it, he asked for landing instructions.

Ivan stood beside the tail of the North American plane waiting. He watched Clay fly over at about a thousand feet. Then, Clay circled twice and came in for a landing on the short runway not far from where Ivan stood.

Clay knew which taxiway to take to get where he wanted to go. The North American plane was parked almost in the same place it was parked when he brought Popov to get on it.

Ivan stood fast beneath the tail section of the North American plane. As he taxied, Clay saw a sight he didn't know he'd see again. The tears began to flow. He could hardly see in order to stop the plane before he ran over Ivan. Clay got out without shutting off the Apache down. He tumbling off the wing and fell on the tarmac.

Ivan stood transfixed. He watched Clay scramble out of the plane and fall on his ass. Ivan moved forward picking up speed.

Ivan swept Clay into his arms as he stumbled to his feet.

"Oh, my God! I love you so much," Ivan said.

Clay cried.

"I missed you so much," Ivan said.

Clay kissed his face and he cried.

They held each other like there was no tomorrow, and no tomorrow could be as sweet as today. Ivan was home. They were together again. This was the way it was meant to be.

"I'm home, Babe. Don't cry. Please, don't cry."

"You ever leave me again, Ivan Aleksa, and I won't speak to you for a year," Clay managed to squeak out.

"A team of wild horses couldn't drag me away from you again, Clay. I'm home to stay, and I'll never, not ever, never ever leave you again. I'm home to stay this time, Babe. I'm home for good."

"Where have I heard that before?" Clay said, using his forearm to wipe his tears away.

As the lovers kissed and hugged, hugged and kissed, a blurry eyed Russian fisherman stumbled up. Popov had never seen two men kissing before. It was shocking for about a second and a half, before he realized, it's Ivan and Clay. Of course they kissed. They were lovers. All lovers kiss and an old Russian man should never interrupt the lover's reunion.

Popov stumbled off toward the short taxiway. He'd take a walk, get his bearings, sober up a little while he did. Harvey Miller had some vintage Russian Vodka he shared with Popov after they landed.

He hadn't been this drunk in ages. He did what he told Clay he'd do. He deserved to be as drunk as the old Russian bear could get.

Clay had no words to express what he felt, and so he cried. He was in the arms of the man he loved, and he never wanted him to let go of him. Of course, that would make flying to the cove difficult.

Ivan luxuriated at the feel of Clay being in his arms. He'd lived through lonely times before but none as lonely as the past months. His only constant thoughts were of being with Clay and never leaving him again. That sustained him.

They held each other, basking in the afternoon sunlight on another perfect day in paradise. This day was a little more perfect than other days. Ivan had finally come home and he intended to stay there.

They held on to each other and cried for a long time. Neither of them could speak, but the embrace said it all for the time being. Being certain the other one was really there was the point. They couldn't let go. They hugged and kissed, kissed and hugged.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you," Ivan said.

Clay's tears stopped. He knew the answer. It had always been the answer to that particular question.

"You may have mentioned it once, but you better never leave me again, Buster."

"I'm never leaving the cove again. Scouts honor."

"Well, maybe you can leave to go hear me speak once in a while. That wouldn't really be leaving me, because you'd be going with me, and maybe to DC when I appear in front of Harry's committee. That wouldn't be leaving me because we'd do it together," Clay said. "And maybe Dylan would go with us."

"Except for what you said, Babe. After that, I ain't going nowhere without your permission. This cowboy is home to stay."

Ivan laughed. It felt good to be able to laugh. Life had been no laughing matter for too long, but Ivan was home.

"I love you, Ivan. I loved you the first day I saw you. I've loved you every day since."

"I've got a news flash for you, Babe."

"What's that?"

"You left your engine running, Sport, and if you don't want to run out of fuel, we better head home."

"My engines always running when you're around, Sweety Pie. Let's go home. There's a big feather bed at your house. I can't wait to get you into it. I don't plan to get out of it before Tuesday, or maybe Wednesday."

"Sounds like a date, but we have a Russian fisherman we need to roundup. All hell broke loose after Popov arrived in Cambodia. I know the Minute Men came for me, but Popov was in the middle of everything that went on. He was a sight for sore eyes. I thought I was dreaming when I saw him at the hotel."

Popov cleared his throat after coming back from his walk.

"Never let it be said that Popov was late for the ride home."

"Popov, you just spoke an entire sentence in perfect English. Me thinks you're a bit of a fraud, My Friend," Ivan said.

"I am but humble Russian immigrant. My speaking is being part of my charm."

Both Ivan and Clay laughed.

*****

Senator Harry McCallister wasn't noticed as he sat in his Beachcraft watching the reunion a hundred feet away. He had tears in his eyes. He'd been young and in love once. He thought he knew how they felt.

He was happy for them, but he couldn't predict the future. He'd ruffled some feathers getting this outcome. He was fairly certain he hadn't heard the last from the director or his Company. He'd made threats, and if push came to shove, he might need to make good on them. For now, he'd be content with the good deed he'd done.

He watched the Apache take the taxiway to one of the main runways. It sat for five minutes before taking off into the clear Florida sky. They'd be landing behind his house in a little over an hour.

Harry started the Beachcraft's engines. He wished he could fly home, but he needed to be on the floor for votes on Tuesday, and it was better for him if he returned to DC tonight. Next week August recess would start, and he'd be home until sometime in September.

Harry did what he set out to do, and Ivan was home and in Clay's arms. For now, Harry was satisfied he'd placated Clayton, but he couldn't be certain the future would go as smoothly as the plan that sent the Minute Men after Ivan.