CH. 17 – Hell

"Going to the Grand Banks is going to Hell" - John Weeks, crewmember, F/V Bigeye, Season 1, Swords: Life on the Line

Beta- StacyO72 –

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N at the end.

EPOV

"If it tastes like chicken, keep on lickin', if it tastes like trout, get the fuck out."

I shake my head as Emmett spouts yet another in a line of increasingly inappropriate pieces of advice. Unfortunately for me, I'm a captive audience. I turn and load another yellowfin into the port side middle pen before shoveling ice on top. Emmett hovers above me just outside the hatch, ready with another fish. This set was our first really good one in almost three days.

"Dude, you are so gross."

"Just preachin' the truth. You'll thank me someday. You know there are cases of thrush that start when a dude goes down on a chick who has a yeast-"

"EMMETT!"

"Fine, but if your tongue gets all white and fuzzy someday don't blame me."

He tosses the next fish down and then heads to the stern to get another. I carefully continue the process of packing and icing in blissful silence. The Vampress and the Predator have been following the same schools of sword and tuna, watching as the eddies of warmer Gulf Stream waters change course and swirl out against the colder currents of the Atlantic. Until we began our sets, we steamed pretty much in tandem. Now that we're fishing, being next to each other would result in a tangle of gear, so we keep a safe distance, each setting and hauling back at regular intervals. Caius and Carlisle are both really competitive so this trip has been full steam in every sense and we're all worn pretty thin. Even Jasper isn't his usual philosophical self.

Once we were under way, Emmett began sexting Rose anyway possible. Regular mobile phones don't work this far at sea but there are other ways. Due to the high cost of calls, the satellite phone was always off limits for personal use. Carlisle forbade Emmett from using the side-band radio after he accidentally changed the channel and told the entire Coast Guard Atlantic District One how hard they made him. The CG might be the first people you want to see when you're sinking, but other than that, they can make our lives miserable out here, so Carlisle was pretty pissed. The last thing we needed was a surprise inspection. After that, Carlisle made us run drills with every piece of emergency equipment- from the life raft to survival suits to the fire extinguishers- to make sure we were ready for an unannounced boarding. We even tested the EPIRB. Emmett was reduced to using the Boatracs email, morse code with flashlights, and even semaphore to communicate with Rose.

At this point, three weeks into a four week trip, he's really started to lose it. Rose is literally less than two miles away right now and Emmett can't keep his mind out of the gutter. I'm not sure if he's sexually frustrated because they still haven't fucked or if he's frustrated because they have, and now she's so close but so far away. For all his bluster, Emmett's been surprisingly vague about what's going on with Rose. Regardless, despite how close the Predator is, he's definitely not getting any until we get back into port after this trip.

"Last biggie from this set," Emmett grunts as he lowers a double marker down to me.

"Not bad for a Greenie. You're catching on pretty quick," he offers his grudging admiration for my work as I carefully pack the fish and finish by putting the pen boards back in their slats.

I roll my eyes. "Emmett, this is my fourth trip, I'm not green anymore."

Emmett laughs. "You say that now but there's weather headed our way. We'll see how green you'll be in twelve foot swells, Richie."

He points to the tightly packed pens.

"We'll need to keep an eye on the stock and make sure nothing loosens. The quickest way to roll in bad weather is from fish not staying in place in the hold. All the weight slides to one side, and next thing you know the boat's belly up and if you're lucky, you're in a raft hugging a jar of peanut butter and crying for your mommy."

I clench my jaw. I've seen the extended forecast too. A hurricane was currently lumbering its way across the Atlantic. It was expected to follow a path that would leave it far enough at sea to spare the U.S. coast but definitely threaten the Atlantic fishing fleet.

It's been three weeks since I'd said goodbye to Bella, watching as the distance grew and her silhouette shrank until she, and then the island itself, were small dots on the horizon. Just as I promised, every night, I went on deck and gazed at the night sky, spotting the constellations she had pointed out to me as we laid on the grass of the South Lighthouse. For this trip, we'd steamed as far as the eastern edge of the Grand Banks, over eleven hundred miles, or nine hundred fifty nautical miles, from the port in New Shoreham. Our current location was approximately half-way to the Azores. Fishing here in international waters has advantages. We're still bound by the ICCAT (International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tuna) laws and quotas, but not the fishing restrictions imposed specifically by the U.S. government on its territory.

In plain language, this time, we don't have to limit ourselves to one blue-fin tuna per trip. We still abide by the rules regarding minimum size and weight, but we can catch as many blues as we want as long as we don't exceed our country's total allowable catch allotment in the ICCAT quota system. Carlisle and Caius both have the latest numbers from NMFS and we have plenty of quota to go. Still, I'd been kind of shocked to learn how small that U.S. portion was. I figured our percentage of the catch would be in proportion to our population, but the U.S. fleet lands less than one percent of tuna worldwide. Tiny Japan lands over half of all tuna caught. Even so, they consume so much seafood per capita that they still need to import from other places, including the U.S. Carlisle thinks that at least half of the ten blue fins we've caught are good enough to send to the Tsukiji market for auction. That's a lot of sushi and a lot of money.

"Richie, you sleeping with the fishes or are you getting your ass up here to finish cleaning up the deck?" Emmett hollers, bringing my thoughts back to the present.

"Be there in a minute!" I call back. I make one more check of the pens, making sure none of the boards appear damaged and everything is packed tight before I make my way out of the hold.

Hours later, after everything possible on deck has been hauled, hosed down, stacked, packed, and tied back, I finally drag myself to my bunk, pull off my rubber boots and oilers, and strip down to my boxers. I stink, but it doesn't matter when everything else does too. It's not as though we've got turn down service and a chocolate on our pillows when we go to bed. Carlisle is up in the wheelhouse, Jasper's in the galley, eating the last of tonight's dinner, and Emmett's hogging the head. I really need to shower to soothe my aching body but part of me is too tired to care and the other part really doesn't want to be in there right after Emmett since he's probably jerking off. I close my eyes and let my thoughts wander to memories of deep brown eyes and soft skin as I drift into semi-consciousness.

ﻝ

BPOV

"Bella, Bella, where are you?" My mom's panicky voice reverberates through my speaker.

"Mom, calm down. You minimized your window."

I give her a few hopefully simple instructions while I try to keep my voice blandly patient. A few missteps later, I see her eyes focus on the screen and her face visibly relax.

"Oh Honey, I just don't get all this tech stuff. Phil is so much better at it than I am. I'm lucky the laptop hasn't run after him to get away from me."

"Oh... did you and Phil break up?" I hope my voice conveys a sympathy I don't really feel.

"Oh no. He's just up in Jacksonville. I'll be joining him. He's been picked up by the AA team there."

Phil, the latest flavor of the month, has actually managed to stick around for longer than normal. I like Phil well enough, but I tend to avoid really getting to know any of her paramours. My mom changes boyfriends with the seasons, the way ordinary people change their wardrobes. Maybe being in Florida, with its constant warmth and sunshine, has made her forget she's past due on a getting a new boy-toy.

"So… you're moving to Jacksonville?" I hesitantly ask. I can't picture her someplace that doesn't have a vibrant "scene", someplace where it's perfectly normal to see a guy wearing a bowler hat and shortalls juggling bowling pins while riding a 10 foot high unicycle.

"Not permanently. Don't worry, once the season ends, we'll be back in the Keys. I'm never getting rid of the bungalow. It's been in the family since your great-grandfather bought it from Hemingway's old fishing buddy. It's got such a great historical vibe, I'd like to try to make some money with it. Do you know anything about Air BNB?"

I sigh, my mom is always at least six months too late on the trends plus she'd never commit to the level of work needed to maintain a guest lodging, especially in a place as popular as Key West. She'd forget to stock something as basic as toilet paper and wouldn't understand why that would give her a negative review. After a few minutes of dissuading my mother from another potential disaster, I hear a friendly rap on my kitchen door, followed by the creak of the hinges. Miranda and Alice appear at the entrance to the living room a few seconds later.

"Bella? Did it work?" Miranda rounds the corner and sees my mom's face peering back as she tries to focus. "Oh! I see her! Hey Renee!"

"Here Miranda, sit down and chat for a few."

I move over on the sofa so Miranda can squeeze in. Alice comes around and takes the spot on the other side. My mom and Miranda chat amiably for a while, catching up on their lives with Alice and I adding a word here and there.

"Where's Rose?" my mom suddenly asks, peering into the screen as though a blonde amazon could hide behind petite Alice.

"She's an observer on a longliner in the Grand Banks right now. They should be back in another week or so. Didn't Bella tell you about her new boyfriend? He's on the crew of the sister vessel," Miranda reveals before I can stop her.

"Boyfriend?!" Renee practically cackles. "Bella, you've got a boyfriend? Tell me all about him! I thought you wouldn't date fishermen? Are you being safe?"

I can feel my skin heating from my scalp to my chest as I try to downplay it.

"It's still really new and he's just doing this for a while until he goes back to school."

"Bella's crazy about him, isn't that right, Alice?" Miranda supplies.

Alice nods enthusiastically, "I've got to say, Bella snagged a hottie with very talented fingers."

"Ooh, so you are sleeping with him. Are you drinking your cranberry juice?"

"Whoa, Alice just means he plays piano," I attempt to deflect. "He's a music major and Mom, I had one UTI three years ago, I'm fine."

Renee continues, increasing my mortification with each intrusive question and comment as I give Alice the stink-eye.

"You need to take your pills at the same time every day…"

"Are you using condoms too, you know crewmembers aren't very responsible…"

"Is he making sure you orgasm because you really don't want a selfish lover."

"OMIGOD MOM!"

"Take it easy, Bella. Your mom's right. If I've told Alice anything useful, it's that you have to be comfortable discussing your needs with your lovers. They'll never improve if you don't communicate openly and honestly."

"Oh Lord. Look, I appreciate the concern but we're fine, it's all good. I have no problem communicating my needs with him, but that doesn't mean I want to give the rest of you a recap."

"Except me!" Alice crows. "I already know the dirty details."

"Shut it, Mary Alice Sunshine."

I shoot her a sharp look. Alice smiles back, all dimples, living up to her middle name.

"Bella, don't worry, I'd never spill the tea, but don't you want to give the moms a little taste."

All three give me the same pouty face.

"Ugh. Okay, all I'll say is this: now I get what the big deal is."

Renee squeals through the speakers, clapping her hands and doing a little dance in her seat.

"Ooh, I bet he's a BIG deal, too, huh? Good for you, baby. Nothing like a well-hung stud who knows what he's doing."

I groan, feeling my cheeks heat to a bright red as my mom, Miranda and Alice bond over my admission of finally getting properly laid. I wish Rose was here to tell them all to shove it. One more week and they should all be back in port. I really do miss Edward. The emails have been kept mostly rated PG due to having to go through the Boatracs system but I can still sense that he shares my frustration about being apart.

"Bella- Bella, did you hear me?" My mom looks at me through the screen with concern.

"Huh, oh sorry, I zoned out," I confess. "What did you say?"

My mom peers through the screen, as though she can peer inside my mind.

"Ooh, you do have it bad, don't you? I asked about your classes. Last time we spoke you were planning to take classes online this semester."

"Oh," I sigh, grateful for the change in subject. "It's going much better than I thought."

After spending a few minutes of what I imagine is as close to a normal parent-child conversation as I'll ever have with my mom, we sign off, promising to chat again soon. Miranda heads home, while Alice stays for a while, occupying the old recliner, her feet hanging over the top, as she sits upside down.

"Let's go to the mainland and go shopping before this storm sets in," she states as she fidgets in the chair. "Just the idea of being out here with no ferry service for a few days is making me get cabin fever."

I shoot her a puzzled look. She's been on the island long enough to be used to these types of storms. Plus, it's not expected that we'll get the brunt of it, just heavy surf that will cancel the ferries for a day or so, much less severe than the dozens of Nor'easters we've survived since we were kids.

"That's not like you. What gives?"

She sighs as she straightens out and sits upright then dramatically flops back in her chair.

"Big Jim has had nothing but the Weather channel on for days, I'm so sick of hearing about this hurricane. I just want to get my mind off of it for a while."

"Ah. You're worried about Rose… and Jasper."

Alice rolls her eyes as I nod knowingly.

"I've been emailing Ted and they'll be well to the west of it by the time it comes up the coast. They've already finished their last set and they should be back in port by Wednesday night along with the Predator."

"That's almost a week from now. Why are they so far offshore?" Alice waves her hand as I start to explain. "No! I really don't want an explanation of fishing regulations and migratory pelagic patterns. C'mon, let's go up to Wakefield and go shopping."

"Ally, I'm supposed to hand in my topic for my term paper tomorrow along with an annotated bibliography. The only place I should be going is the library. "

"On-campus?"

I have no doubts as to what she's asking. The only way to get to the main campus from the ferry is to go through the town of Wakefield.

"Ally…"

"What's the topic? It's just a couple of sources, right? So, let's do that first and then on the way back we can hit the campus stores and then downtown Wakefield."

I snort, "Downtown?"

While New Shoreham is the smallest town in the state, Wakefield isn't much bigger.

"It's got a Starbucks," she sniffs.

"You know I prefer Dunkin' when we're off-island," I retort.

I let Alice whine for a few more minutes before I give in, mostly because the idea of going to the campus library is intriguing me. I promised Edward I wouldn't do any research on him and I've kept my word but when the opportunity came to register for my only remaining general ed. class, I chose Criminal Justice. Similarly, when the time came to choose a term paper topic, I didn't hesitate. The Effects of Identity Theft on the U.S. Federal Tax System may sound like a generic enough topic but I've got a few very specific cases I'm going to research.

"Okay, let me see if there's room for the truck on the next ferry."

Alice squeals and claps. It's almost October, the busy season is over. She knows we shouldn't ever need to worry about fitting a vehicle on the ferry this time of year.

A few hours later, I sit down in front of a nondescript terminal in the basement of the library. I'd managed to convince Alice to drop me on campus and go shopping on her own, giving me the time and space to do this. The anonymity of the campus computers should allow me to look up the criminal charges brought against the Romanian guy without worrying that I'm compromising Edward's safety. I'd memorized his name but I wasn't sure if I was brazen enough to google him. I type 'Chicago IRS identity theft' into the search engine and watch as the news article links populate. Biting my lip, I glance across the hall and decide that perhaps a more old-school method might be a more secure way of doing this. I write down the information I need and walk into to almost empty room next door. I don't know how much time has past when I hear the door softly open and close.

"Bella, what are you doing in here?" Alice asks me over the low whirr and whistle of the strange little machine connected to the monitor I'm reviewing.

"Research, Alice," I reply as I stop the process and scan through the article currently uploaded to the screen in front of me.

"I've never actually seen anyone use microfiche."

"This is microfilm," I reply.

I glance at the time on my phone as I stretch in my seat and roll my neck a bit. My head is spinning, the information I've read confirms the broader details of Edward's story: Stefan and Vladimir Popescu, the drug dealers turned IRS identity thieves, the international connection between the Chicago case and the town in Romania nicknamed 'Hackerville', but never a mention of the individual agents who uncovered the crime. There's also no mention of the most frightening details: the murder of Edward's mom, the house fire, the pursuit and attempted hits on Edward and his dad, or the hacking of U.S. government servers and the subsequent failures of the witness protection program, but I really hadn't thought that was public knowledge.

"Bella? Did you hear me?" Alice asks and I realize I was so lost in thought, I completely missed what she'd said.

"Sorry, just trying to organize all this. What did you say?"

"How much longer do you need? We have time before the last ferry but if you're going to be a while…" she trails off.

"Would would you mind waiting another half hour? I have two more things to check.

"Sure, just send me a text. I'll hang around the campus shops."

Once she's gone, I change the film to the last roll I want to check, the one that should contain Edward's mother's obituary. I quickly place the new roll on the spindle, thread it under the guides and glass, and begin searching for the end of last May. A few minutes later, I'm staring at a black and white photo of a woman with Edward's eyes.

'Elizabeth Masen, beloved wife of Edward, and devoted mother of Edward Jr…'

I read through but it's a normal recounting of the minutiae of her life, a music degree from Amherst, the years teaching in Chicago public schools. There's nothing new. All I can glean is that Edward has been completely honest with me. The life he knew disappeared in a matter of days, and now he doesn't know if he'll even survive let alone get back to any type of normalcy. I blink back the wetness in my eyes and take a deep breath before I make short work of boxing the microfilm and heading out.

ﻝ

EPOV

"Mayday, Mayday! This is the fishing vessel New Moon. Mayday! Does anyone copy? Over."

"Carlisle!"

I shout from the wheelhouse where Jasper and I are on watch. We've been steaming hard for the past twelve hours, eager to put as much sea between us and the hurricane that's taken an unexpected curve west, bringing it much closer to the coast than predicted. Carlisle had followed the 1-2-3 rule of marine safety, maintaining a 100 mile error radius for a 24hr forecast, a 200 mile error radius for 48hr forecast, and a 300 mile error radius for 72hr forecast, all measured from the point where the winds reach 34 knots, or about 40 mph. However, the storm shifted faster than the error radius allowance, which put us right on the edge of what was now a powerful Category 3 Hurricane.

A constant barrage of swells between fifteen to twenty feet are slamming hard against the bow as the Vampress sloughs through murky gray-black seas. It's like I'm strapped into a roller coaster where I can't see what's in front of me. I'm never sure when the next big drop is coming. Just as Emmett had predicted, my stomach emptied hours ago when the swells began topping twelve feet. Even though she's only a few hundred yards away, the Predator is a dim blur of light off our starboard side as we race each other back to the safety of Block Island. The constant deluge of water from the rain, wind, and ocean means visibility is less than one quarter mile. In short, the conditions are shit and we're still two hours from port.

Jasper calmly picks up the side-band and radios back, "Roger, New Moon, this is the Vampress, what's your header, over?"

He grabs a navigational chart from the pile on the table and grabs a pen while at the same time he gestures for me to go below and get Carlisle. By the time I wake him and Emmett and return to the wheelhouse, Jasper's already relaying everything to Caius over the sideband.

"We got a sixty foot otter trawler listing hard to starboard. Captain plus a four man crew currently trying to get the boat right but the engine on that side has failed. They've got pumps working but the hoses don't quite reach the bilge. . . sounds like the hold is about half full…"

Jasper stops, not needing to finish. A full hold has less opportunity to shift, mainly because there's no place for the fish to go. An empty hold isn't an issue, but a hold that's half full is the most dangerous in these conditions. Carlisle grabs the chart from Jasper and swiftly moves to the vessel's controls. The boat's engines whine as Carlisle sharply turns to the right, guiding us to the spot Jasper had circled on the map.

Caius's sharp voice cuts through the static.

"What's the Coast Guard's ETA? Over."

"They said the closest cutter is currently about forty-five minutes out from their coordinates. No word on whether they can get a chopper on scene. I reckon we can make it in fifteen if we don't mind getting a little choppy. Over."

Caius barks out a dry gasp that could be his version of a laugh.

"Roger. I gotcha, but don't be stupid. I'm not in the mood to save two crews today. We'll stay in your wake. Lead the way. Over."

Emmett mutters something about Caius and assholes but it's drowned out by Carlisle shouting orders.

We jump into action, and I'm suddenly grateful for all of the drills Carlisle's put us through the past few weeks. I grab the gear and supplies I need. In the case of an emergency, we each have assigned stations with specific duties. I check the life preservers and rescue slings before readying the first aid equipment. Adrenaline surges through me, giving me an energy boost despite already having been on watch for the past nine hours. The boat is rocking hard as Carlisle pushes the engines as much as he dares despite the weather. The Predator is closing in off our stern, its crew moving with precision as they make their own emergency preparations. Soon enough, I see lights dead ahead as we close in on the New Moon. I suck in a breath as the boat emerges from the mists. It's tilted. Angry waves crash sideways over the deck, sweeping gear into the dark sea swirling around it. The stabilizers are askew, still down but with the starboard bird submerged under the waves. Shit.

"I want everyone in survival suits, you hear me, Emmett? Make sure you grab the right size. Just like we drilled it, less than sixty seconds. We need to be prepared, by the time we get close enough, they could already be under," Carlisle calls out through the wheelhouse intercom.

Emmett waves back to him from his station at the life raft. Survival suits, also known as immersion suits, will protect us if we need to get in the water but they're cumbersome and limit movement, especially on someone as solid and built as Emmett.

"Can you see any of the crew?" I call back to the wheelhouse.

"Negative."

"New Moon, this is the Vampress, we have you in our sights. Do you copy, over?"

"Roger, Vampress. This is Captain Harry Clearwater. The crew is already in the life raft. It's still connected by the tow line but once I get in we'll cut her free, over."

"Roger, Harry. This is Doc. Get the hell out of the wheelhouse. She looks like she could roll any second. We'll swing her around and begin getting you onboard, over."

I'd met Harry a few times at the Black Wolf. He was part of the close circle of crusty old sea dogs who hung out there, along with Bella's dad. They had welcomed Carlisle like a long-lost brother and he had spent much of his time on the island sitting at the bar trading stories with them. I can't hear any hint of emotion though as Carlisle radios Caius and the two agree on an approach. We circle around the sinking boat and finally see the liferaft come into view, the dark orange canopy covering barely visible between the waves.

"Ted, get those slings out and ready! Emmett, get the towlines, we're going to try to get the raft alongside and get the deckhands on board. Where the hell is Harry?"

I watch as a figure wearing the tell-tale red of an immersion suit finally emerges from the New Moon's wheelhouse and slowly make his way across the deck to the port-side railing as the winds push hard against him. He gets one leg over the rail, shimmying along it for support before reaching the towline connecting the raft to the vessel. He jumps into the water and for a few infinitely long seconds, I don't see him. Finally, his head bobs above the water line and he began swimming toward the raft.

"Alright, Caius will maneuver between the raft and the boat once they cut the tow line. We'll come up along the port side and see if we can secure the raft before getting the crew off," Jasper shouts down to Emmett and I as Carlisle steers the boat into position. His voice is barely audible above the sounds of the wind screeching through the cables and the engine throbbing beneath us.

I nod and give him a thumbs up. We watch as Harry is hoisted onto the raft and they cut the line tying them to the doomed fishing boat. The wind is whipping rain and salt water into my face, stinging my eyes. We get close enough for Emmett to toss a line out to the raft. He throws it just as a gust of wind blasts across the deck and the line falls far out of range. He curses, pulling it back on board before trying again. It take four tries before the line finally gets close enough to the raft for a crewmember to grab it. I sigh with relief. They secure the line and we connect it to a winch to try to haul the raft closer. The rough seas are buffeting the raft, making it that much harder to bring her in, but little by little, we finally succeed in getting the raft alongside our deck.

The Predator pulls up along the other side of the raft, protecting it from the worst of the waves. Two deckhands pop up from inside. Between Emmett and I, we managed to grab the closest one and haul him over the railing onto our deck. I'm about to reach for the second when he ducks back into the raft. He emerges a minute later holding a soaking wet ball of black fur wearing a neon life vest.

"This is Sam, our mascot. Take him first."

Emmett mutters something like "Of fucking course" before taking the dog from the other guy's arms. He passes the wriggling Sam to me. He's heavy, a cold shivering bundle of fur. He shifts around in my ams. His dark nose sniffs my chin and I feel a warm tongue lick my face before I pass him to the first crewmember and direct him to the wheelhouse.

Emmett and I are just about to reach for the second crewmember when I hear Carlisle's frantic shout over the intercom.

"Wave!"

There's no time to think. I grab the railing with both hands and brace myself as a rogue wave slams onto the deck, crashing over us from behind. I never even see it, but the impact hits me as though I've been thrown into a brick wall, the water is just as solid and hard, not at all like a liquid. I'm propelled forward, my hands forced away from the railing and I feel nothing but cold water on all sides, surrounding me, as every instinct I have fights for my survival. I forget everything but the need to hold my breath and force my eyes open. Time stands still, my ribs ache from the wave slamming me into the railing, my lungs burn with the need to take a breath. My clothes stick to my body as the waterproof suit compresses against my skin causing me to feel suffocated. I fight the rising panic and I force my feet to move and follow the pull of the flotation device in the suit. I breaks the water's surface, gasping for breath, not sure if another wave is about to hit.

"TED!" Emmett screams down to me, "Catch the sling!"

My head swivels toward his voice just as I see him launch the bright yellow life sling in my direction. It appears to land a few yards away, but distances are deceptive in the churning water. I attempt to swim over to it. The immersion suit limits my movements but I eventually manage to close in on the sling. I grab it just as a swell washes over my head. I sputter and spit out salt water.

"Get it under your arms!"

I follow Emmett's directions, sliding the sling around my back. I try to swim towards him while he reels me in like a tuna, hauling the sling's rope, hand over hand. By the time he's pulling me back on board, I've recovered enough to remember we were supposed to be the ones rescuing the New Moon crew. I push myself up on my hands and knees and take a few deep breaths, finally getting a grip on my senses. I focus on the surface of the deck solid beneath me as the ocean pitches and rolls around us. I straighten up, feeling like I've just gone ten rounds with a prize fighter. When I finally turn to face the raft, I see that the Predator crew has taken over the rescue and gotten two more deckhands off the raft.

"Are you injured?" I hear Carlisle call over the intercom. "Do you need medical attention?"

Do I? I take a few more breaths. The pain in my ribs is subsiding. I'm sure I'm bruised but I gingerly touch my torso through the suit. I don't think anything is broken.

I look up at the wheelhouse and shake my head, giving Carlisle a thumbs up. I turn back to Emmett.

"Thanks, man. I'm sorry I let you down."

"Dude, What the fuck are you talking about? You took a direct hit from a thirty foot wave coming from behind you. It was sheer luck we didn't both go over. You did exactly what you were trained to do and it saved your life. Remember that."

I nod, looking out past the Predator and realize the New Moon is no longer on the horizon.

"It sunk?!"

"Yeah, like a frigging stone. That rogue wave rolled it over onto its side, the port stabilizer went flying over the deck and it was gone in less than thirty seconds."

"Shit."

"Yep."

"How many are left in the raft? Was it a crew of five?"

"Yeah, that's the last of the crew. "

Emmett nods his head towards the raft where the big guy from the Predator is single handedly hoisting a New Moon deckhand onto their boat.

"The captain will be the last one out of the raft. Standard protocol."

Emmett no sooner finishes speaking when the raft's canopy opens and Harry emerges. The Predator crew calls to him. He turns and faces them but instead of moving, he freezes. Slowly, he extends his left arm and points beyond the Predator to where the New Moon had sunk. The only indication the boat had ever existed is a small debris field.

"Hard thing to see, these guys put their whole lives - Oh Fuck!"

We watch in horror as Harry bends his extended arm back towards his body and he falls backward, clutching his heart. He hits the water with a hard splash, the survival suit keeping him afloat.

I forget about my bruises, my close call, the claustrophobic feel of the suit, everything else, as I push the sling tight around my body and jump back in, swimming as hard as I can. I focus only on getting to Harry. Luck is with me this time and the waves push Harry closer to me. I reach out and grab him.

"I got him!" I scream to Emmett. "Pull me back."

The two deckhands we rescued make their way back to Emmett and all three help haul us up on deck.

"Get him inside!"

We manage to move Harry's lifeless body into the wheelhouse where Jasper and I begin CPR.

"Dad! Dad! Please don't die!"

The younger deckhand, who must be Harry's son, desperately calls out to his father as we work to keep Harry's heart beating.

I'm vaguely aware of a change in the incessant noise in the howling wind but I don't register what it is until Carlisle yells, "Chopper, Emmett get on the side-ban and tell them we have a medical emergency!"

"Coast Guard District One! This is the fishing vessel Vampress, we need medical assistance from your chopper at… what's our lat and long? Lat forty-one point one six north long seventy-one point one zero west, copy?"

Jasper and I continue CPR but Harry's condition hasn't changed.

Within seconds, we hear the rescue basket clang onto the deck and there are two rescue swimmers on scene, taking over for us. Just as quickly, they have Harry and his son in the basket and back up in the air.

Jasper and I are left sitting on the floor of the wheelhouse staring at the space between us where Harry had lain only a minute ago.

"Edward, get below and get dried off. Emmett, you too and -what's your name, kid?"

"Paul."

"Paul, take that dog and get below. We're getting the hell out of here. Jasper radio Caius. Full speed to New Shoreham. We're going home."

A/N Umm…. Hi? I know I've said it on my profile before but just to reiterate, this story and my other WIP, Irrevocable Trust, are never abandoned. I honestly don't know how so much time has gone by between updates but it has. Once I do finally finish these two stories, I'm not sure what will be next. I've had a lot of changes in my RL, mostly good, but my life now if very different from when I started writing these stories. Regardless, I still love being part of this fandom and the friendships and fun I've discovered. As for this chapter, well, it's pretty much a given in a Twific that Harry Clearwater won't make it. Sorry, Harry.

I'm sure a lot of readers had to re-read this to remember what's going on so quick recap Edward Masen was an ordinary student majoring in music at Northwestern University in Chicago, when his world was turned upside down due to his father's work. His dad, an IRS agent, was instrumental in the arrest and conviction of a Romanian crime lord for identity theft crimes. The crime lord's crazy brother, also a crime lord whose speciality is hacking, targeted Edward's dad for revenge. Edward's mother is killed and then Edward and his dad narrowly escape two murder attempts while in protective custody. Recognizing that the government's security has been compromised, Edward and his dad go off the grid. His dad entrusts him to the care of his godfather, legendary longline fisherman, Carlisle "Doc" Cullen. Working under the alias of Ted Platt, Edward, Carlisle and the other crewmembers, Jasper and Emmett arrive at Block Island, RI during the busy summer season. There he meets Bella Swan, the police chief's daughter and a college student who is working at the fishhouse. Bella's scholarship fund has dried up and she is working two jobs to save enough money to pay her way through school. Despite having a "no dating fishermen" pact with her best friends, Alice and Rose, she can't deny her attraction to Ted and the two become involved just as Alice and Rose begin to date Jasper and Emmett, respectively. Bella and Edward fall hard for each other but she soon realizes that he is lying to her about his past and confronts him. He tells her everything and begs her to not try to not search for him on the internet for fear that the Romanians will track him down. The US government plans a covert operation to eliminate the Romanians in their hometown known as "Hackerville". In the meantime, Edward must stay undercover for his own safety but commercial fishing is a dangerous business.