"We can go. Take me to the capital. They're expecting me," Ken Ho said.

Ivan was apprehensive. Seeing his handlers handled by Ken Ho's men was one thing, but dealing with the CIA was quite another. It seemed like a fitting end to an uncomfortable tour of duty, but was it the end or would the Company have more tricks up its sleeve?

Roland was satisfied. He'd kept Ivan safe and the bad guys were all in the hands of the good guys. He wanted to go home but not until he felt like the job in Cambodia was done in a satisfactory way.

General Kenji was a careful man. He had a platoon of men waiting at the capital, and Major Han would make sure they were on the high ground before the Packard arrived. All that could be done was being done and facing the assembly, no matter how friendly, made him nervous.

He was not afraid to speak, but would what he had to say matter to the men who could make or break him? He wasn't a politician, but generals knew how to take command.

*****

Complicating things, a crowd gathered on the steps and along the boulevard to greet the general who had been a missing man for some time. The old Packard moved carefully and the general rolled down his window to wave. The people waved back at a general they didn't often see.

Once the car stopped at the Capital, Khe got out to open the back door. People cheered at the sight of their general, and he waved to them. People chatted and smiled their approval. The general wasn't expecting such a reception, but once word got out that General Kenji would address the assembly at noon, the crowds began to gather.

General Kenji worried about the reaction of the assembly, but he never questioned the reaction of the people. They knew he was the people's general, because he was a man of the people. He was born and raised among these people. The reception made him feel like he'd come home.

Khe was not so comforted by the general's reception. His concern was another kind of reception that might have been planned for him should he reach the capital. Khe's eyes were everywhere, scanning the rooftops for some sign of the ninth man.

Ivan and Roland followed the Ken Ho up the stairs as people greeted him and he shook their hands. His smile grew as he neared the top of the stairs. The people gathered around once Ivan and Roland followed him to the top of the stairs where he turned to wave.

When the shot came, there were screams and people ducked, disappearing off the stairs. General Kenji didn't duck, and both Ivan and Roland turned to look at where the shot came from. Khe looked up at a building just across the street.

Three soldiers were holding up a rifle and a man was being handcuffed. They'd waited for the assassin to get ready to fire when they swooped down on him and took number nine into custody. General Kenji waved his approval at his soldiers who had done their job. He turned to face Ivan.

"You've gotten me this far, Ivan. Walk with me to the assembly. We'll say goodbye there. I have a new journey I'll start today, but we shall continue our friendship and meet in more certain times for both of us," Ken Ho said.

Once the soldiers held the door open, they went in and Jon Ho rushed up to hug his father.

"Papa, I heard a shot. I thought someone was shooting at you," Jon Ho said.

"All is under control, Jon Ho. Walk with us. You'll go to sit with Khe while I speak. I don't want you having a public face this soon."

"Yes, Papa," Jon Ho said, walking with his arm around his father.

"Ivan, we'll part here," Ken Ho said in front of double doors.

Soldiers stood at attention in front of the doors. Khe came rushing up from behind, and Jon Ho went to stand beside him.

"Ivan, you are my friend. I enjoy our conversations and I look forward to many more. For now, this is goodbye, my Friend. For now, I have other duties, but one day I shall come to see you at your cove, and I expect to see you Roland. You keep my friend safe, you hear?"

"Will do, Ken Ho. I enjoyed playing with your soldiers," Roland said.

Ken Ho laughed and turned to face the door. The soldiers opened both doors wide for General Kenji to step into the assembly hall.

"He's quite a man," Ivan said as a small applause started near the doors.

"He is that," Khe said. "Jon Ho, we need to find a seat to hear your father."

Ivan and Roland walked toward the entrance as the applause spread and there were shouts and whistles until everyone in the assembly was standing and applauding.

By the time they stepped out into the fresh air, everyone inside must have joined the applause. It could be heard from the front steps.

"Sounds like someone likes him," Roland said.

"They do. He wasn't sure of the reception he might get," Ivan said.

"Why would someone want him dead?" Roland asked.

"When politics get involved, Roland, strange things can happen. I guess Ken Ho isn't someone's idea of a man they like. They decided to eliminate him rather than negotiate with him."

"The same men who had you locked up?" Roland asked.

"These are the same men who had me locked up," Ivan said.

"I'm glad you hired me, Ivan. I didn't like those men. They treated me like they thought I was stupid, but I heard everything they said. I was smart enough not to like what I heard," Roland said.

"You are far from stupid, Roland. You learn fast. You simply haven't been exposed to the ways of the world around you," Ivan said.

"I've been exposed enough to know that I like your way of acting. I like the general and how his men treated me. I don't like the men the general locked up."

"Me either, Roland. I didn't like them a little bit."

"Where do men like that come from, Ivan?"

"Some dark place where they don't see the light, Roland. Men like that are born in the shadows."

As they hit the bottom stair, a car rolled up. John Carl climbed out.

"Ivan, your transportation has arrived. I believe you're going my way.

"If you're heading east, John Carl, I'm going with you. Do you mind if Roland hitches a ride? He's going that way too."

"By all means. I hear the general wants to hire Roland. I'm glad he didn't. I think he'd make an excellent Minute Man. What say you, Ivan?"

"I say Roland is my right hand man, and he's my friend. I think he has a long term contract to work for me."

"I do," Roland said as the car pulled away from the curb.

"Where do we stand, John? I don't think I know our itinerary. Can you help me with that? You seem like a man that knows the score."

"The final score, the Minute Men and the general's men one, the bad guys, zip. The general will hold your handlers and their reinforcements until their plane is ready to leave. They'll be taken to the plane and told to leave Cambodian airspace and never return. Would you like a word with any of them before he sends them packing, Ivan?" John Carl asked.

"I've got nothing to say to them," Ivan said. "I hope I've seen the last of Company men. What about the guy with the rifle at the capitol building? Surely he isn't getting a pass, John."

"No, he'll go on trial for attempted murder. He'll be in a Cambodian jail for some time to come. He'll be exposed and so will the operation he was sent to carry out. There will be a lot of red faces in Washington, and the typical denial denial. One day a secret deal will be made to bring home the guy they're holding on to. They'll keep a low profile in Cambodia until they think it's safe to be operating there again. You'll be free of them once all this goes public. Your value to the Company has been greatly reduced if not finished by this fiasco," John Carl said.

"You seem to know how the game is played, John. You a Company man?"

"Was, after Vietnam. I operated in the Southeast Asian theater. When my partner, Bob Alexander, got the idea to form the Minute Men, I came on board with him. My knowledge of how things work over here comes in handy."

"I wish I was as confident with the outcome as you sound, John. I still have that hinky feeling in the back of my neck that tells me it isn't over yet."

"The Company does hold grudges. I can't tell you they don't want to talk to you about what went down over here. They might want to interview you, but it serves no purpose for them to try to hurt you, Ivan. I don't see it," John Carl said. "They've got too many fish to fry to worry about some asset in Florida."

"I was some asset in Florida when they came to get me this time, John."

John Carl heard every word and he wasn't positive they'd go out of their way to debrief Ivan on his role in the failure of their plan. There were things the Company did that John Carl never understood. The Company did not like people who got in their way and foiled a perfectly good operation.

John Carl knew what Ivan felt did have some credence. The Company always seemed to have one more trick up their sleeve. He hoped not in this case. Bob really wanted Ivan delivered back to Clay as soon as was humanly possible, and the boss was always right.

*****

While Schneider made plans to have the plane readied for a return to the US, Ivan and Popov sat with Roland at the tea house. There were no handlers inside. They could sit, relax, drink tea and talk of going home. They thanked their lucky stars to be going home. Ken Ho managed to eliminate the threat to Ivan.

It was almost certain that no one back home wanted to talk about the mission the Company men were on that had a most unacceptable conclusion. No one wanted it said. The man they sent a team to kill is very much alive.

As they talked over what kind of food they'd eat for dinner, Jon Ho came in the front door. He walked to the back table where Ivan was. He glanced toward the table where his handlers were always seated. No one was there and Jon Ho smiled.

"Father said you'll leave soon," Jon Ho said.

"Saturday," Ivan said. "They need to get the plane ready and arrange for the pilots to show up. We're in no hurry, Jon Ho. Although I have my family waiting for me to come home."

"My father made things turn out OK for you?"

"He did," Ivan said. "Your father is a good man."

"He said the same thing about you. The soldiers are still talking about how Roland knocked that jerk silly. Who did he think he was?" Jon Ho asked no one.

"It's an American condition called delusions of grandeur. Lance thought he was a lion, but he turned out to be a tabby cat."

"I wish I could have seen Roland in action," Jon Ho said.

"It wasn't much. It was the least I could do. I don't like him and he had killing us on his mind. It's not something I can overlook," Roland said. "I put him in his place."

Everyone laughed.

"We're discussing going to dinner. Come along as my guest, Jon Ho," Ivan said. "We'll be going as soon as we decide on a restaurant."

"Yes, I should like to talk with you more. My father says you are wise beyond your years, Ivan. I still have questions about America."

"Your father is too kind. Having you go with us would be my pleasure. I can do no less for the son of my good friend. We'll be here a couple more days. You are to come and talk as often as you like until then, Jon Ho."

"I wish I could go to America with you," Jon Ho said. "My father has a favorite restaurant near here. It's Chinese, but he claims it is some of the best food he's ever eaten. I can show you if you like Chinese."

"Gentlemen, Chinese tonight?" Ivan asked.

"Absolutely. You are knowing Russians taught Chinese to do the cooking," Popov bragged in an authoritative voice.

"Popov, the Chinese were cooking wonderful food two thousand years before there was a Russia," Ivan told the Russian sea captain.

"Capitalist Propaganda? There was nothing before there was Mother Russia. We invent all things worth the inventing. I am reading this in Pravda as boy."

Everyone laughed at Popov's reorganization of history.

Dinner was every bit as good as Jon Ho promised. When it was time to leave, they received no bill. The owner of the restaurant came to the table. He bowed toward Jon Ho.

Jon Ho stood and bowed.

"The food was delightful as always," Jon Ho said in Cambodian.

"I trust your father is better. I saw him at the capital today. Glad he is up and around. We hope he'll visit us soon. I'm proud to serve his son and his son's friends. Accept your meal as a humble gift from Chen Li. Tell your father, I look forward to seeing him soon."

"You honor me with your kindness," Jon Ho said with a bow.

The owner returned to the back of the restaurant.

"Such polite people," Popov said. "Maybe Russians didn't think up Chinese food first. Maybe it's our politeness we thought up," Popov said in a serious discharge of words.

"I thought Lance was delusional. You may have him beat, Popov. I did not know you had such a refined sense of humor.

"Old Russian fishermen know where the fish swim," Popov said.

"So do I," Ivan said. "They swim with Luca Brasi."

"Russians created mafia," Popov said with a laugh.

*****

It was Popov who knew where to go to get coffee on Thursday morning. It was at a nearby hotel that catered to European and American guests. Returning to drinking tea without having coffee too, wasn't easy to do, and now Ivan was free to do what he wanted to do. The hotel also had the Russian Vodka Popov drank.

Word came that the plane needed some service on one of its engines, and they'd be leaving Saturday afternoon. John Carl stayed on scene until later Thursday when he returned to the States. He'd clear the way for the North American airliner to return, and he'd report to Bob about the final disposition of the Cambodian mission.

Besides finding the best coffee a few blocks away, Popov had an idea of what to do with the extra time.

"We are being in the country with most famous landmark in world. Popov would not like to leave before seeing the Angkor Wat. I am hearing it is a few hour drive. I am coming all this way. I'd like to be seeing Angkor Wat."

"Our plane will be ready Saturday at noon. We can leave anytime Saturday afternoon," Schneider said. "Until then, we can get a map and a car and see Cambodia."

Popov seemed to know more than anyone else about Angkor Wat, but Ivan wasn't surprised. He was sure Popov read a lot. He knew things Ivan had never heard before. More and more, Popov reminded Ivan of his grandfather. He had a remarkable knowledge about the world he lived in. He taught Ivan a lot about it.

There was one thing for sure, anything Popov wanted, Ivan would agree to it. He'd come to Cambodia to bring Ivan home. Somehow, it all worked out with no one needing to die. Things mostly worked out fine once Popov took charge.

Anchor Wat was a five hour drive for Cambodians and a little over four hours for Schneider, and when they got there, they were met by a government official who guided them through the ancient city. No one regretted seeing a relic of an ancient age.

Cambodia was full of polite courteous people who liked being helpful. Everywhere they went, they were met by people who wished to make sure they enjoyed their stay.

Americans were still universally loved, no matter where they went. The American mystique was alive and well in Angkor Wat. The food was delicious, the entertainment was exquisite, and the people were as delightful as the food, their dances and songs too.

Popov, never having been shy, danced the night away with anyone who he came upon. The wily Russian fisherman was liked wherever he was.

By Saturday, after going halfway around the world, Popov was ready to go home. He fell asleep on the ride to the airport and he fell asleep as soon as he was buckled inside the North American plane.

The man for all seasons had worn himself out, and he could sleep peacefully. He'd come for Ivan and he was leaving with Ivan.

By the time the North American taxied to the main runway, it was after noon and they took off into a crystal clear blue sky. As they climbed away from Phnom Penh, the plane turned eastward.

Ivan and Schneider moved into the front of the plane, and Ivan asked if they could fly over a spot on a map of the Horizon's location at this point in its summer's research trip.

"It's not even out of the way," the pilot told Ivan. "We'll fly close enough to make radio contact. I'll have you over that sight by seven or eight this evening. I'll let you know when we're approaching that location."

Ivan rested as the clear day began getting darker. The night was full of stars and the flight was smooth. Ivan wasn't sure what he was going to say. He'd been away from Dylan for months, and his son viewed any absence from his life an insult he'd find difficult to forgive. As adamant as Dylan was about his father never leaving him again, his departure months ago wasn't Ivan's doing, but Ivan knew that in his absence, Dylan's anger with him would have grown.

With the idea of talking to Dylan on his mind, it was hard for Ivan to hide his happiness over finally being on his way back to Clay. His restless sleep was interrupted by the plane's intercom.

"Mr Aleksa, we're approaching the Horizon. We'll pass over the location you indicated in a little over five minutes. You might want to come forward now."

*****

Dylan was in the galley listening to Logan playing the guitar and singing. It was another clear pleasant evening on board the Horizon.

Greek surprised Dylan with a cake and ice cream he secured while he was doing shopping on Guam. Once dinner, hamburger and French fries, was over, everyone sang happy birthday to him.

Dylan was fifteen.

While he was treated like family on the Horizon, and everyone treated him with respect, he missed being at home with Mama cooking all his favorites and the yellow cake with chocolate icing that she always made for him. He didn't regret staying for the entire summer research trip, but that faint feeling of homesickness never left him.

Dylan fooled no one with his forced smile, especially not Greek, who went out of his way to fix Dylan's favorites. Dylan was a fifteen year old boy, of course he was homesick on his birthday. He had no way to call to talk to the people he missed. He'd been away from the cove for too long. He was convinced there would be no more summers away from home.

If anyone accused him of being homesick, he'd deny it, but he missed the cove. He missed his father. He'd be home in another month, so he wasn't terminally homesick. He just missed his life there, but he was about to get an unexpected boost that would get him through the rest of the summer.

*****

"Star-lighter Eagle to the Horizon, over."

"Star-lighter Eagle to the Horizon, over."

"This is the Horizon," Captain Hertzog said. "Where are you Star-lighter Eagle?"

"I'm north, northwest of your position. I'm told I'll fly over your position in seven minutes. Do you have a Dylan Aleksa-Olson on board. I have his father with me. He insists on saying hello to him."

"I'll have him for you in two minutes. Stand bye, Star-lighter Eagle."

"Dylan, you're wanted on the bridge," Captain Hertzog ordered.

Dylan took the inside passageway and emerged on the bridge. He heard the static on the radio from the passageway.

"Here," Captain Hertzog said. "You father is calling."

Dylan's homesick posture changed immediately. He was smiling from ear to ear when he took the microphone.

"My father. How'd he ... Dylan, here, over. Dad, is that you?"

"Happy birthday, Dylan."

Dylan was immediately feeling like he was in a dream. It wasn't Dad. It was Daddy-O, and even if he was angry with him, his voice was a gift that broke the homesick hold that had a hold on him.

"Daddy-O, where are you? How'd you...? How are you?"

There was static and another voice came over the radio.

"This is Star-lighter Eagle," the pilot said. "If you'll look to the northwest, I'll turn my lights off and on twice in five, four, three," the pilot counted down.

"Look there," Captain Hertzog said, pointing to the northwest.

Captain Hertzog turn all the ships lights out and Dylan stood with his face in the glass at the front of the bridge.

"I see you, Daddy. I see you," Dylan yelped, a joy in his voice.

The planes lights went off, came on, went off, and came back on.

"Star-lighter Eagle, you just turned your lights off and then on. I'll fly over your position in three minutes."

"Dylan."

"Yes, Dad."

"I haven't had time to shop, but when you get home, I'll be there. I'll have something nice for you. I promise," Ivan said.

"Just be there. That's all I want, Dad. Just be there when I get home, I miss you so much," Dylan said.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away, Son," Ivan said and they both cried.

The North American airliner flew over the Horizon after they'd broken off radio contact. Dylan stood on the catwalk, watching and listening to the big air plane going over. He smiled and waved. He knew his father couldn't see him, but he didn't care. It was the best birthday gift ever.

Dylan stayed on the catwalk long after the airplane's lights disappeared. He felt magnificent and all his homesick feelings left him there and then.

He'd be home soon and his family would be together when he got there.

*****

With the North American airliner flying steadily east, the radio stayed silent until shortly after eleven that evening. Everyone in the cabin was sleeping or resting with most of the plane's interior lights being tuned low.

The radio broke into the silence.

"Honolulu Tower to Star-lighter Eagle. Honolulu Tower to Star-lighter Eagle, over."

"Go ahead, Honolulu Tower, over."

"Star-lighter Eagle, standby for a minute. I've got traffic in my ear. Honolulu Tower, out."

Schneider opened the door of the cockpit and stepped inside.

"How far are we from Honolulu, Harvey?"

"Sixteen hundred miles more or less," the pilot answered.

"Why would they be calling you over three hours before we approach Hawaii? We aren't scheduled to make any stops, are we?"

"No. Could be weather. I'll let you know when Honolulu tells me what they want. He's either relating a message that comes from somewhere other than Honolulu, or someone is talking to him concerning this flight."

"Don't be too receptive to whatever is being said. Do they have you on radar? Can you have radio problems hearing them? I don't like this. Why don't they tell you what they want?"

"I'm way far away to be on their screen. They can't see me yet, but whoever it is, they know we're coming their way."

"Who would know that?"

"Phnom Penh Tower, anyone on the ground who saw us take off. I turned directly east. I wasn't told to do anything evasive. I thought you guys finished what you came to do, Brad."

"Could you avoid their radar if I asked you to, Harvey?"

"I'm a North American pilot. I can do anything," the pilot said.

"And how would we do that?" Brad Schneider inquired.

"Put her on the deck. By taking a southern route and flying under their radar. We did that all the time in Nam. Stayed off their radar until we went up to drop our load our load on the target."

"See what they want and if we don't like it, we'll do what you said. Be prepared to take the southern route," Schneider said. "There is a southern route?"

"I'll make a southern route if necessary," Harvey said.

"Why call you and then go silent? That's bogus. I don't like this."

"Someone is telling him what to say," the pilot said. "He'll call back. He's made contact."

It took five more minutes for the radio to activate again.

"Honolulu Tower to Star-lighter Eagle. Honolulu Tower to Star-lighter Eagle, over."

The pilot hesitated before he picked up the microphone.

"Star-lighter Eagle to Honolulu Tower, over. You signal is weak, Honolulu. What can I do for you?"

"You are instructed to land at Honolulu, Star-lighter Eagle, do you copy?"

"You're garbled, Honolulu Tower. I'm not supposed to land anywhere near your location, over," the pilot said.

"This is an order coming from NTSB. You are to land at Honolulu Airport. People here are wanting to board your plane. If anyone asks you, I never said this, but they intend to take someone off your plane. You are instructed to land at Honolulu. Do you copy that?"

"I don't copy that, Honolulu. I'm having a devil of a time hearing you. Let me reset my radio," the pilot said, reaching up and turning off the radio.

"That's what I thought, Harvey. Take us down under their radar. Find a way to get to Tampa without getting near Honolulu. Let me know what you decide. I need to talk to our passengers. No one wants to get off the plane before we're in Tampa."

"Copy that, Brad. I switched on the speakers in the cabin. You passengers heard our conversation with Honolulu. I'll check my charts and reset our course. I'll let you know what I come up with. Give me a half hour."

Ivan came to stand in the doorway of the cockpit. He had no question about who they wanted to take off the plane.

"I wondered if it was going to be that easy," Ivan said. "What are you going to do, Schneider? I'm not anxious to let them get their hands on me again."

"Do about what?" Schneider asked.

"That radio message," Ivan said.

"What radio message? You holding out on me, Aleksa. You hear something I should know about? We're going to Tampa, unless you have some urge to visit Honolulu. I have orders to deliver you to Tampa. That's where I'm going."

"Tampa sounds just fine to me," Ivan said.

"We have enough fuel, Harvey?" Schneider asked. "I wouldn't want you to run this sucker out of fuel."

"We'd be close but we've had a tailwind for several hours. We should make it with fuel to spare," Harvey said. "Unless we meet headwinds. Then, your guess is as good as mine."

"You ever been told to do that before. Stop at a place you aren't scheduled to stop?" Schneider asked. "I know what I think. What do you think?"

"They're after someone. I've flown commercial for most of the last ten years. No one asked me to land except where I'm scheduled to land. They frown on it except in an emergency," Harvey said. "We're expected to stay on a schedule at North American airlines."

"What's the penalty for a pilot who disobeys an order to land?" Schneider asked. "How do you know you're really talking to air traffic control?"

"If I heard the order, they could yank my ticket. I'm leased to the Minute Men along with this plane. I'm not sure North American would want to go around and around with a private company and the government. If they wanted to make some kind of an issue over it, I suppose they could ground me and haul me appear in front of some board of inquiry. In a case like this, I don't see it. Someone wants someone on this plane. As long as I'm in the air, I'm in charge of this plane. We're supposed to fly non-stop from Phnom Penh to Tampa. That's what I'm doing," Harvey said.

"Wouldn't want you to be hurt by this, Harvey," Schneider said.

"With what you people pay me, I'll do what I'm instructed to do, and I can live with the consequences. We'll land in Tampa sometime after noon today. We still have twelve or thirteen hours in the air. Less if we keep the favoring tail winds. Can't say who will be there waiting for us to land."

Ivan stood behind Schneider, but he heard them talking. They wanted him. He had no question about who they were after. He hadn't calculated that the Company was going to come after him before he got home.

"Before we land, we need to talk to Senator Harry McCallister. We need to hear what he has to say," Ivan said. "Can we do that?"

"I'm a North American Airline's pilot. I can do anything," the pilot said. "Brad, tell me how we do that for the gentlemen."

"Radio our base in the Philippines. Have them call Bob. Tell Bob our situation," Schneider said. "Have him contact the senator. We'll get a much quicker response that way. They'll want to meet us in Tampa is my guess."

"I'd like to hear we have a senator on our side. Makes losing my pilot's license easier to swallow. We'll be OK," Harvey said. "You gentlemen should go back and try to rest. I've got the helm. If there's trouble, I'll let you know."

The night was clear.

The stars were bright. All systems were go.