It was early when Clay got out of the big feather bed and stood on the deck looking out at the fading starlight to the west. He could smell the Gulf. He could hear it. He couldn't sleep. Taking Popov to Tampa had him excited with the idea he'd bring Ivan home.

It was daylight when he parked behind the Dive Shop. He heard the trash buggy. He could go help Taggart pick up trash, but he wouldn't. What he would do was go drink some of Taggart's coffee. He would have a pot brewing when he went out to collect the trash.

The bell tinkled and his eyes fell onto the gigantic mahogany desk once he turned on the lights. He saw Ivan sitting at the desk. He could feel Ivan in the Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop. He'd built it from the ground up. Taggart was with him even then.

Clay knew Taggart since he came to the Conservancy house with his mother, when she came to nurse Dylan, after Sunshine died. Mama would feed him cookies and milk until his mama was done.

He filled his cup, turned off the lights, and walked outside. He looked at the fishing fleet at anchor as a new day began. Tito would lead the fleet out to their fishing grounds today. He was Popov's right hand man and he was an able bodied fisherman.

Clay eased Sea Lab down one side of Popov's trawler and up along side of Tito's. They were identical. They were the beating heart of the cove's fishing fleet.

Tito would be in command of Popov's trawler until Popov came home. Tito's first mate would captain his trawler to the fishing fields. The fishing fleet wouldn't miss a beat while Popov was gone. It was peak fishing season and there were millions of fish to catch.

He idled out to the mouth of the cove, and as soon as he hit the green waters of the Gulf, the throttles went forward. Sea Lab's stern dug deep into the water and Clay gave her more and more throttle until the nose lifted as high as she'd go.

Clay made both Detroit engines scream.

Clay looked back at the rooster tale. He felt the power. He liked to open her up now and again. A mechanic once told him, 'You've got to blow the dust out of the engine from time to time if you want the engine to stay at peak performance. Clay didn't know if that was true, but every once in a while, he needed to push the throttles as far forward as they could go, and he needed to fly.

He liked flying in the Apache. He liked flying at night. He loved being in the sky. It was a sea of air with waves and the beauty that came from the black and white of night. Like when he pushed Sea Labs throttles all the way forward, he loved the feel of powering up the Apache.

There was nothing like flying over the Gulf. He could fly in Sea Lab. This morning he needed to fly. He needed to feel the wind in his hair. He needed to feel the power under him.

He went directly west for more than an hour before he throttled back. This was a long way from the cove. At the speed he was going, he was over thirty miles into the Gulf when he turned south by southwest.

Popov came out here to fish. This was one of his northern most fields. He worked his way south and then back east. If the fishing was particularly good in one field, he might just stay there. If the fishing wasn't all that good, he'd pull anchor and move.

Clay remembered being on the Vilnius 2 with Nick, Ivan, and Kenny. Nick couldn't get Boris to go on the fishing boat too often. Then, Boris went MIA. Ivan went to bring him home. Now Boris fished with Nick every time he went out. Boris left Florida being an ambitious go getter who intended to own the world one day. He came home a Cambodian fisherman. It's all he knew.

He didn't really know Clay but Clay knew Boris. He was the only boy who ever turned his head after he fell in love with his brother. Boris had not only forgotten who he'd been, he was 36 going on 66.

Boris had been missing ten years. He'd aged 30 years. He still resembled Ivan, but he looked more like Nick's brother than his son.

Clay didn't know what he was seeing when he saw it. He knew to drop back to an idle. He reached for the binoculars. Whatever it was, it was big, and there were more than one. There were two, three, four, no five. He saw the water shoot out of the blow hole.

"I'll be damned. Whales They're whales.

Clay reached for the throttles and cut them back and turned off the engines. Sea Lab began to drift. Clay watched the whales through his field glasses for a while. Once they got closer, he didn't need the glasses. He knew what he did need.

He ran down to the equipment locker and took out the first 16mm camera Ivan got at a yard sale. Dylan still used it to film from the deck of the Sea Lab and around the cove. Clay kept film in it just in case. Holding it in one hand, once he was on deck, he climbed up on the starboard side moving carefully forward to the bow.

He was glad he kept film in the vintage camera. He'd only used it a couple of times, but this was why he kept it handy. There were times when something extraordinary happened. He wanted to film it.

He stood looking at Megaptera novaeangilae. There were five humpback whales on the surface. He'd cut his engines and let Sea Lab drift among the whales. They knew he was there. They'd heard him long before they saw him, but they weren't particularly disturbed by his presence. If anything, there was curiosity among the whales.

He got as far forward on the bow as he could go. He filmed as Sea Lab drifted closer to the whales. Once he stopped filming, Clay realized how rare it was to see a pod of humpbacks. They looked healthy, and they went about their business as Clay watched.

Clay finally sat down with his legs dangling over the bow.

As Sea Lab drifted among two whales, they watched with interest. The leviathans showed no sign of fear. Beautiful creatures who shared the planet with men who would destroy them for a buck.

Moby Dick may have had the right idea, Clay thought.

The leviathans were beautiful creatures who lived in a place where men would gladly hunt them to extinction.

Not a concept Clay grasped.

Could these whales sense Clayton Olson was a friend of whales?

The slaughter of whales went on well into the twentieth century. Around Australia, from 1900 into the 1960s, the estimated 10,000 humpback whales were hunted to a few hundred. They became hard to find, hunting stopped.

Ironies of all ironies, whales avoided extinction because of oil.

The last whale would have already been hunted if not for oil. Clay could see the last whaling ship in pursuit of the final whale. They kill the whale and never give any consideration to what they would do now.

Clay understood that few people had enough respect for the natural world to find a way to coexist with it. As man destroyed that world for fun and profit, once the balance tipped far enough on the negative side of the ledger, man would not survive.

Clay plainly saw that last whaling ship taking the last whale.

Whales were the largest and possibly one of the most intelligent species on earth. As large as they were, they weren't at all aggressive if not threatened. They were easy prey. unless you were a whale living inside of Herman Melville's brain.

The great white whale and Ahab were locked in mortal combat.

The whale who came to nudge Sea Lab seemed in charge. He only changed the direction of the craft slightly. The biggest whale was saying hello, and Clay began to cry.

The tears just ran out of him. He couldn't stop crying. The whale was directly in front of Sea Lab. The eye Clay could see was on him. They regarded each other before the whale turned away, taking his pod to the south and west.

After a few minutes, he picked up the camera as the humpbacks moved further away. Clay watched them get smaller. He didn't start the engines until they'd gone out of sight.

He'd never encountered a whale in the wild before. He wouldn't soon forget the day he did.

The beauty of humpback whales in the wild was indescribable. What would he write about it?

Maybe he wouldn't write anything. Maybe this was something he'd keep for himself. The film he took said it all.

Words couldn't capture the magnificence of whales.

Clay pointed Sea Lab toward the cove. Nothing he did could top his experience with whales. He'd go back to the cove and just enjoy being alive on another perfect day in paradise.

*****

When they landed at Phnom Penh the following afternoon, the North American plane taxied to the Cambodian Air Freight Terminal. The plane was parked behind the air freight's hangar.

"Gentlemen, please remain in your seats until I conduct some business," Schneider said, but none of his men had moved out of the seats they were in upon landing.

Popov watched as Schneider met two Cambodian men at the doorway to the hangar. They all shook hands and Schneider handed over two generous size envelopes. In turn he was handed papers. Each item was explained by the most importing looking man.

Once Schneider had the papers and the two envelopes were stuffed into the side pockets of the Cambodian man's coat, they shook hands and the two Cambodians left.

Schneider returned to the plane. First he went to talk to the pilot and then he came back into the main cabin.

"We're cleared to do business. We'll go to our hotel and then we'll see where we are and where we need to be," he said. "For the time being, we'll stay together. We'll work in two groups once we're settled in. We'll go over the plan later tonight and the operation will go into action in the morning. Light tactical gear only. Welcome to Cambodia, Gentlemen."

*****

Ivan was a million miles from home and he was working on a wing and a prayer. He didn't know what was coming or when it would come, but he stayed loose. He was armed. He was good with a gun. He'd never had to shoot anyone. He didn't want to shoot anyone now.

Since Mason was murdered, he'd gotten nothing he wanted, if you didn't count the little matter of murder charges being dropped against him. For that he was halfway around the world with no apparent way to get back home.

One thing was for sure, Clay was going to be one gigantic pain in Harry's ass. Clay's man was in trouble. He would decide that he needed to do something about it. Harry, not so much, but everything Harry was, everything he became, he owed to Clayton Olson.

When those two got on each other's radar, Clay was fishing on Ivan's father's boat, Vilnius 2. Harry was running the Sanibel Island Conservancy his father left to him when he croaked unexpectedly. Harry had two choices when Daddy died. He could continue his life as a wealthy carefree beach bum, or he could get busy assuming control of the McCallister dynasty.

Ivan had heard of Harry McCallister Jr, namesake of Congressman Harry McCallister Sr. Junior was fond of booze, women, and probably song, when he was sober enough to focus.

He was married, had two sons, and he was living the good life on Miami Beach. That's when his father pulled a fast one on him. He died suddenly and without benefit of a will. Junior inherited everything. There was the house and hundreds of acres of land on the Gulf of Mexico, the Sanibel Island Conservancy, and an ancient house that once belonged to the founder of the Sanibel Island Conservancy.

The heir apparent wasn't close to his father. Hence, his move to the beach once he put college behind him. Daddy did not approve of young Harry's lifestyle. They had never been close, and while senior had no use for his son, junior's grandfather did and he left Harry millions to get by on. Harry had been living the good life with no particular interest in anything but more of what he had.

Harry did sober up for his father's funeral and when he was met by a team of lawyers that explained everything he'd become responsible for, it sobered Harry up in a big way. Would he continue his beach bum life or would he take charge of the McCallister estate.

Harry was told that there would be a special election to fill his father's seat in congress, The McCallister seat. Was he running for it?

Harry was having trouble sitting up, and he passed on filling his father's seat, which was a sure thing if he ran.

Harry moved into his father's house. He had to pick up where Daddy left off. He knew the McCallister seat in congress would wait for him to be ready for it.

Everyone would expect him to run sooner or later, but first, he needed to get the Sanibel Island Conservancy moving in the right direction. A direction he could control. Harry had always been interested in the environment in a way his father never was. The Sanibel Island Conservancy a politicians tool he waved in front of Florida voters to prove his dedication to keeping Florida beautiful.

During Harry's junior year at the university, with the Conservancy in mind, seeing a day when he'd run it, he took marine biology classes with Professor William Payne, a new breed of marine biologist. Bill's students spent as much time in the water as out of it.

Using SCUBA gear, he took his students into the sea to see what there was to see. If that didn't grab them, you couldn't be grabbed. It did grab Harry. He spent hours walking and talking with his college professor, the Sanibel Island Conservancy was on his mind.

Once Bill knew Harry was the heir apparent to the Conservancy, his interest in this student increased. Bill knew Harry could be a force for good in the environment if he was so inspired. Bill took Harry under his wing. He promoted the Conservancy to environmental activists, and he saw a promising future for all involved. When Harry's father died, Bill realized the Conservancy was falling into Harry's more responsible hands sooner than anyone thought, changing everything.

The professor came to Harry's father's funeral and he stayed at the mansion next to the Gulf of Mexico. Bill was who Harry needed to get his life in gear. He was a tycoon now. He needed to be responsible for the businesses and the money. Bill helped him to get the Conservancy pointed in a good direction.

Harry's wife wasn't leaving Miami Beach. She was a well-known figure on the beach ad in the bars. She wasn't moving to that, 'mausoleum in the sticks.' She was a woman with status where she lived. She'd enjoyed Harry's wealth, and she planned to take a big hunk of it when she divorced him.

Harry's lawyers bought off the former Mrs McCallister. She refused to come to sign the papers to finalize the divorce.

"Send a courier. I'll have my lawyers look the papers over."

Her signature freed Harry up from any and all obligations to his former wife, except for the big check he wrote each month to keep her and their two sons in a lifestyle to which they intended to become accustomed to on the beach.

He left his wife a wealthy divorcee. She was too rich to be at all interested in the rest of the McCallister wealth. Harry saw his sons when he had time. Usually they wanted money for a car, college, a vacation in Europe, and Harry played along. He couldn't envision dying and one of them taking over anything but the money.

Once they were old enough, they were too busy to meet with their father. When he had time for them. He encouraged them to do better than he'd done in school, but they graduated from college and he only heard from them when they needed money.

In some respects, Harry's sons were just like him. He was sure he'd heard a song that said just that.

"My boy was just like me. My boy was just like me."

With a bourbon and branch in one hand and an ink pen in the other, Harry took over the kingdom lacking any kind of preparation. Being in charge motivated him to get the Sanibel Island Conservancy moving in the right direction. Harry had become better known and more respected than his father or grandfather ever were.

As he got prepared to run for the McCallister seat in congress, his placeholder agreed to step aside. It was at this time, Harry began hearing about a boy who worked on Nick Aleksa's fishing boat. The boy was Nick's son's best friend, and he collected unusual things that came out of Nick's fishing nets.

It was interesting but it meant nothing to Harry until he walked into John Olson's shop to talk to his handyman who kept the Conservancy standing, when it very well might have fallen down. He often went to John's shop to talk to a man who Harry had grown to respect. On one such visit, Harry saw the bottles of specimens on the shelves John built for them.

"What are these?" Harry inquired.

"My son, Clayton, collects them. He fishes with Nick Aleksa."

"The boy who collects things from Nick's nets is your son?"

"Yeah, he's fascinated by things that come out of the sea."

The rest was history. Harry sent Clay to school and he became a marine biologist, the Sanibel Island Conservancy's marine biologist. He gave the Conservancy a gravitas all Harry's millions couldn't buy.

Clayton Olson ran the Conservancy. He was the voice of the Conservancy. He was Harry's man in the Gulf. He had become a force within the environmental community. Without Clayton Olson, Harry would just be a senator who cared about the environment. Clay made Harry one of the central figures in the fight for a cleaner environment.

All the pieces fell into place for Harry, but he hadn't arrived alone. He couldn't have become the force he'd become without Clay leading the way, and Harry's fortunes depended on Clayton Olson.

When the Sanibel Island Conservancy's marine biologist came to DC to appear in front of Harry's committee, media lined up to get permission to be there. When Clayton Olson came to DC, sparks flew and he gave politicians what for.

At campaign stops Clay's name was right below the senator's name on the marquee. As many people came to hear Clayton Olson speak as came to hear Harry. They were a team that was hard to beat when it came to environmental issues.

Harry couldn't fire Clay if he wanted to, but he didn't want to. After Bill Payne, Clay was the man Harry respected most. The problem being, Clay came with Ivan attached at the hip. If he didn't save Ivan, he'd lose Clay. There was no doubt about it, but that didn't make Harry move any faster than he'd moved. Doing what needed to be done meant sticking his neck out, and he was a politician, if he wanted to continue to be a force in the government, he needed to keep his neck on his shoulders.

Harry knew of Clay's plan to take Ivan and Dylan to a place where they'd never be found. It wasn't something the senator could allow, which meant, he had to find the men who would go get Ivan and bring him back to the cove. He would do what Clay expected him to do. no matter how far he had to stick his neck out.

Ivan knew how things worked at the cove. Clay was the one indispensable man. There were many cogs in the wheel that created the cove's momentum, but Clay brought national attention to the spot that wasn't on anyone's radar screen.

The way Ivan had it figured, Clay would be fit to be tied about this time, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Something would happen, even if Ivan had no idea what form it would take.

Ken Ho knew to stay away from Ivan. There was no way to know that's what he would do, but Ivan gave the warning he intended to give all along. The next move was his, but Ivan was sure the man didn't want a confrontation with men who didn't wish him well.

The first time around when he was confronted by Company men, Ivan was at their mercy. He nearly died as a result of that meeting. He was older and wiser now, and he had the ability to stick his finger in the eye of the men who were handling him.

Not playing ball with the men who had him was dangerous. Ivan knew his only value was in getting General Kenji to reveal himself. Once that didn't happen, all bets were off. He was obligated to the Company until August 15, when the contract he signed would expire.

That was over a month away and something was going to happen long before his contract expired. There was no telling what was coming, but Ivan remained ready. When the action started, he'd be in the middle of it, and he wanted to survive to get back to the men he loved and the business he built from the ground up.

It was Thursday afternoon in Phnom Penh. Ivan didn't notice Bob Alexander's men keeping an eye on the tea house. He didn't notice Ken Ho's men keeping an eye on his handlers.

Ivan had no idea that Popov was in Cambodia and about to take a room three doors down from Ivan's room at the hotel, but he was about to find out.

The intervention he expected to come from Harry was underway. Ivan was going home, or he'd die trying.