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Jug nodded his head slowly, but his reply was cut off by the door opening and permitting a filtered ray of sunlight into the dark space. “You boys done playing grab ass in here?”

Colt recognized the Senior Chief from the night before, even though he had traded his ghillie suit for a pair of short khaki shorts and a dark blue T-shirt with the words “UDT/SEAL Instructor” written in gold on the chest.

“Thanks for the digs, Senior Chief,” Colt said, slowly coming to his feet.

“The name’s Dave, or Whitey if you prefer.”

Colt held out his hand. “Colt, or Mother.”

The SEAL gripped his hand with a smile. “Your name Goose or somethin’?”

He tried not to wince as Dave squeezed his hand with a little more pressure than he probably gave others and stared back at him with a wry smile. “Somethin’ like that.”

Dave nodded, then released his grip and looked down at Jug, who was still sitting on his cot. “Well, I just got off the phone with my boss back in Coronado. Seems there are some crazy rumors flying around about you two.”

Colt and Jug exchanged looks but said nothing. Until they talked with their own bosses, they weren’t sure how much of what had gone on the night before was going to be classified. And they knew there were going to be a lot of people looking into what went down and trying to find suitable scapegoats to shield them from any potential blowback.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Dave,” Colt said.

The SEAL pursed his lips and nodded. “Thought so. Anywho, somebody aboard the Abraham Lincoln wants to have a chat with you. There’s an Osprey on its way here right now to take you back to the ship.”

“Both of us?” Jug asked.

Dave shook his head. “Nope, just Mother here.”

Colt knew CAG was the only one with enough juice to divert a Navy CMV-22B Osprey to San Clemente to pick up a single passenger and bring him out to the carrier. It was either to chew his ass some more or give him an “atta boy” for trying to stop the attack. Even for as good as he felt, Colt knew it could still go either way.

He looked down at Jug. “Let’s get together when I get back to the beach.”

“Drinks are on me,” he said. “Even if you did try shooting me down.”

Jug stood, and the two men embraced before Colt turned and followed the Senior Chief out into the morning light. He followed him down a worn trail to the parking apron a few hundred feet away, lost in his thoughts as he heard the faint beating of the tilt rotor’s massive blades churning through the air on approach to the island.

When the Osprey came into view, its proprotors turned skyward like a helicopter, Dave turned to Colt and spoke with something akin to admiration. “If any of those rumors I heard were true, I have a feeling you’re going to get a medal out of this.”

Colt couldn’t help himself, and he laughed. “And here I am thinking I’m being flown out to the ship to get my ass chewed!”

The SEAL slapped him on the back. “Either way, I think I may know of an opportunity you’d be perfect for.”

The Osprey hover-taxied closer, and Colt turned to see it set down on the parking apron and roll toward them. He turned to look at Dave and saw a mischievous look in his eye. “Why do I get the feeling I’m being conned into something?”

The SEAL grinned broadly and nodded at the Osprey. “We’ll be in touch, flyboy.”

USS Abraham Lincoln (CVN-72)

A man named Chief Cooper led Colt from the back of the Osprey and across the flight deck. He wore a similar cranial, goggles, and life preserver unit to the ones he had been wearing when he departed the ship the morning before. He had barely been gone twenty-four hours, but already the flight deck seemed like a foreign place to him.

The VRM-30 chief walked across the flight deck with his head held high and guided him to a short set of stairs outboard of the carrier’s superstructure. Colt knew exactly where he was. It was the same ladder he had taken down into the ship following his doomed flight, and the same one he had taken to the roof after CAG kicked him off the boat.

He stepped through the hatch having found some of the answers he had gone searching for and removed his cranial and goggles and handed them to Chief Cooper. “Thanks for the ride, Chief.”

“No problem, sir. But you can hold onto those. We’ll be taking off for North Island within the hour, and you’re coming with us,” he replied.

Yep, Colt thought. Definitely getting my ass chewed.

“Know where I’m supposed to go?”

Before the chief could answer, he heard Footloose’s booming voice coming from the passageway behind him. “Lieutenant Bancroft!”