Thank you for the increase in reviews. B leads and as I have said guides my writing.

Happyandcontent45 and M has given me some ideas.

My buddies in Eastern Europe, any ideas?

If this Chapter doesn't get reviews…I just don't know what will.

Chapter 30

It's Joe

Six months ago

75 miles NW of Bristol Cove

The San Juan Archipelago consists of tiny strips of land surrounding its main island. It's lush background leads to a quaint lookout for the beautiful sea creatures cavorting at the surface. Orca Island is well named as the Apex Predator uses lanes of travel within easy viewing distance from the shore. Among the gaggle of barely above sea level shorelines, a lone figure sits contemplating his present life.

"I can't believe it had come to this." Looking at the Yacht moored some distance from shore, he tosses a clump of sand from his grip into the approaching tide.

"Maybe if this so-called island sinks my troubles will be done with."

Standing, he eyes two people on the streamlined white boat.

"They look happy."

The two figures in a deep embrace, wave as if to say goodbye. The young woman's giggle is drowned out by the lapping streams of water surrounding his bare feet.

As the two amorous figures descend into the ship arm in arm with lips smacking the others, their destination and intention is well advertised.

"At least someone is happy." His monotone observation is just another attempt to trivialize the divorce. "Well, maybe she is now, too?"

Walking along the saturated sand his size twelve foot leave an impressive mark. Scenting a salt flavored mist rolling over the atoll, he continues to speak to the clouds.

"Hell, I got a pension. Not a bad mistake joining up when I was seventeen." He smirks. "Not even forty, yet."

Enlisting in the Army seemed the only alternative. Parents deceased and killing time with an aunt and uncle too preoccupied with their own children to worry about this transient orphan.

"Damn," his hand enters the unbuttoned teal cotton dress shirt. Its slim fit still clinging to well-developed arms and a muscled back. "Still got a twinge." Strong fingers glide gently in and about the three indented scars running up from his upper chest to a sore right shoulder.

He exhales, "at least it looks better than the exit wounds." The loud sigh challenges a bloated wave as it pounds the shoreline.

Staring at the overcast sky, he clutches a small gold medallion around his neck. With a smile, he speaks.
"I guess I should thank you for those exit wounds."

Lying in a jungle for thirty or more minutes with three 7.62x39 slugs in your back is not the healthiest situation to be in. If they had not passed through his body, he would not be here, now.

"Everything weird always happens to me." He turns to the Yacht. Still no sign of the passionate couple. He shakes his head as a blast of cold air send bits of sand into his green eyes.

"Damn!" he blurts out. The words are soft and meant for only his ears.

"They send me to the Philippines for an easy assignment." He coughs up a chuckle. "Advisor…" Another chuckle halts his speech. "Yeah, some advisor." A disgusted expression rises on his face.

"Ahh, who cares. Got a nice pension, nice job with the Defense Department," he smiles. Using spread fingers to comb a head of dark brown hair, the young man snorts out another chuckle.

His introspective moments blocks any other sight from his vision. He does not see the disturbance some fifty yards away.

A struggling hand emerges from the surf. Trembling fingers claw through the sand as its movements draw a bloody torso onto the beach. Heaving breaths struggle to inhale as much life-giving oxygen as possible. Each attempt to gather strength leads to more groans of anguished pain.

Removing her left hand from a wound above her abdomen, the nude woman inches her way toward the grass.

'What the hell?" he cries out.

Turning to the yacht he calls for assistance. "Mike! Mike! Damn you!" Realizing help would not be on its way, he speeds to the still form.

"What the hell happened. You've been wounded." He snaps back for a moment. Two gaping holes shoot out at him, as she lays on her back.

Stripping his shirt off, he pushes the garment into one of the wounds.

"How is this stopping the blood?" The use of pressure appears to sear the wound. He then shoves the shirt into the hole in her left side. The same occurs.

"How the hell are you still alive?" Asking the question as if she could answer.

"You're breathing. Ok!." His shock is from an abundant of visions. Her crawling out of the water. The deadly wounds inflicted on her body. The fact that she is alive and seems ready to speak.

"Hey, don't talk. We'll radio the Coast Guard or just bring you to a hospital."
"No," she whispers. Her face contorts from the pain.

"What do you mean no? Honey, I don't know how the hell you're breathing."
"Please, I know. I can't go." She cringes as she presses on both wounds. "I can't be found."

"What do you mean?" She looks ready to slip into unconsciousness. "The Russians…they will kill…"

"Russians!" he looks around to check if anyone else is in the area.

"You look familiar…are you an agent?"

"Yes! I think…" Strands of black hair lay across her face. Their damp condition makes it hard for him to remove.

"Who are you? He asks.

"I don't know." Light brown eyes flutter.

"What do you know?" he holds her in his arms before attempting to pick her up.

"I know…I hate Russians."
"Well, join the club. Anyway, let me see if I can get my friend?"
"Friend?" She asks. "I have no friends." She whispers.

Holding the phone to his ear he lets out a bellow.

"What the hell you mean…who is it." Gritting his teeth, "it's Joe."

The present: On a beach

The reunited family enjoy the seclusion of the isolated bay not far form Bristol Cove. All but one.

Maddie sits on the sand, her jeans show the outline of the moist ground. Her mind is free to wander.

What can I say? I know they are making love. Love they want.

"The way he wants." She screams into the air. The sound of the surf drowns out the troubling tone.

"Unless, I get those stem cells," Maddie stands casting her vision upon the surface. She sees two fish tales flopping along the calm sea.

"I can do it. I love him." She shakes her head with a disgusted look upon her face.

"Damn him for falling in love with her. I love her." She grits her teeth as slender moist lips recede. The young woman strides to the edge of the sand. Deflated waves nibble at her toes.

"He loved me first." She takes a deep breath as the smell of the ocean enters her nostrils. "And damn you Ryn for falling in love with him."

Maddie inhales as she drops to the sand, sitting cross legged she continues.

"Will I ever be able to satisfy either of them…alone?"

A third caudal fin appears. It is Hope. She accompanied Cami back to the tribe, allowing the two lovers to frolic and get down to some serious business.

"Oh no, Hope is back." The young teenager's moods have been noticed by Maddie.

Her attention is disturbed by the ringtone. It is reserved for new contacts as its chime increases with each ring.

"Oh my," a smile quickly appears. "It's Joe."