Scott and Virgil followed their brother's gaze to see a red Tracy Industries jet taxiing toward the hangar. "Did you guys tell Dad we'd be here?" Gordon asked.

"No, we sure didn't."

The three young men watched as the jet came to a halt, and after a few minutes, the ramp lowered, and their father stepped out onto the tarmac.

"He told Grandma he was coming straight home." Gordon remarked.

"Maybe he's just stopping to get a couple dozen sticky buns for us." Scott commented eyes narrowed.

Virgil snorted. "Yeah, and the tooth fairy has golden wings."

Gordon put on a look of mock devastation, complete with quivering lower lip. "He was going to Lenshin's without us!"

Scott and Virgil nodded, watching as their parent ran a hand lightly over the SportJet, then looked up at the restaurant, speculation on his face. The restaurant's windows were polarized to keep the warmth in, but the effect was of one way glass, and though Jeff looked directly at them, the lack of recognition on his face indicated they had not been seen.

"So, how do we punish this infraction?" Virgil said with some relish. Both he and Gordon looked to Scott as the natural leader.

Scott surprised them, though, saying calmly, "We don't. Give the guy a break. If you knew you were coming home to a houseful of Tracys, wouldn't you want to stop and relax a moment before you got there?"

Gordon shook his head sorrowfully. "Soft. He's gone soft on us, Virg."

With deceptive speed, Scott grabbed the younger man around the neck and rapidly knuckled his short red hair. "Owww! I give! Scott, I give!"

Scott released his brother, and stood as Jeff entered the restaurant. The Tracy patriarch came in expecting to find at least one of his sons, and when he spotted Scott, broke into a huge grin, striding over to wrap his arms around the young man. "Scott! It's good to see you, son!"

"Good to see you too, sir!"

Scott stepped back, and Gordon took his place in his father's arms. "Hey Dad."

"How's my Navy graduate?"

"Great, Dad." Gordon said happily.

Virgil stayed seated throughout, acknowledging that his brothers had been away from home while he himself had flown home just a few weekends ago. Jeff had other ideas, pulling Virgil into a strong hug. "It's good to have you home again, too, son."

"Thanks, Dad." Virgil grinned, warmed as ever by his father's regard.

"Where are your brothers?"

"There's John pulling up right now, and Al should be here in a few minutes." Gordon said.

Jeff gestured the three young men to the table. "When your grandmother suggested I stop for breakfast, I just assumed one of you had burned down the barn and you needed time to cover the evidence. I didn't realize it was going to be a meeting of the clan."

Scott smiled. "Well, I'm not saying one of them didn't burn down the barn, but actually Grandma just wanted us all out of the house for a couple of hours."

"Besides, we cleaned it all up yesterday morning before we left." Gordon said calmly, garnering looks of dismay from his father and older brothers. The ginger-haired Tracy didn't notice as he was intently staring out the window at where his brother John had just pulled up in a second Tracy Industries van.

Scott and Virgil glanced at each other before turning to watch as John climbed down out of the van and stood for a moment staring at the three planes parked on the tarmac. Apparently deciding he could wait until after breakfast to unload the van, he locked the door and trotted across to the restaurant. Virgil noticed that Gordon subtly relaxed.

John came in through the door, unwrapping a long knitted crimson muffler from around his neck. Back from her break, Kristie gestured to the back of the restaurant where Gordon popped up waving his arms wildly. Sighing heavily at the sight, John made a comment that had Kristie laughing as she handed him a menu. He made some other comment to which she nodded, then headed for the table.

When he realized who sat at the table with his exuberant younger brother, he broke into a huge smile. "Oh my God! Scott! What are you doing here?"

"Hey John. Damn, what's with the hair?" The two brothers hugged.

John smiled wryly. "I figure with you and Gordon doing the buzz cut thing, somebody in the family had to have a decent head of hair."

Jeff grunted as he stood to hug his son. "Please tell me you aren't growing a ponytail."

John laughed. "Hello to you too, Dad. To tell the truth, I have a bet on with Wes. Fifty bucks to whoever has the longer hair at the start of next term. Trust me, I'll be cutting it as soon as I can. It keeps getting into my eyes."

"I dunno, Johnny, I think you're better off with long hair." Gordon said. "You should have seen the girls falling over him in line. They practically ignored me."

"Aw." The three older brothers chorused in sympathy.

Any response Gordon would have made was stopped short by the arrival of Maddie the waitress. "Excuse me." She said as she leaned over to replace the half-empty pot of coffee with a freshly brewed one, giving Virgil a glimpse down her blouse.

Her smile was all for him as she said, "Are you folks ready to order yet?"

"We've got one more stray coming. But I think a tray of those sticky buns will hold us over while we wait for him." Jeff naturally took charge.

"And two double orders of bacon, fried crispy, please." Gordon piped up grinning winningly.

Maddie noted her pad and looked around at all the handsome faces and smiled liked she had won the lottery. "I'll have that up in a jiffy."

This time as she walked away, she put a bit of a wiggle in her walk, apparently aware of the five set of admiring eyes on her derriere. Virgil looked up from the view to see the speculative look in his brothers' eyes, and he frowned. "Hey, knock it off, you guys. I saw her first."

"Actually, I believe I saw her first." Scott said, sniffing.

"Yeah, but what would she want with old guys like you two? Besides, I'm going to be posted in a deep dome far away from wine women and song. I think you guys should all back off and give me a clear field." Gordon stated emphatically.

"A deep dome?" Jeff said sharply. "What do you mean, son? I thought you were going to apply for flight school."

The table suddenly grew quiet. Gordon froze for a split second, then turned to his father. "Well, actually, I applied for the Deepsea program. I report to Groton for submarine training on December fifth."

Jeff stared at his son for a moment, then asked gently, "Did you fail the flight school application, son?"

Virgil sat at a loss for something to say. Gordon had always been a bit of an odd duck, but then, so had they all, each in their own unique way. He doubted that his father really understood how really different Gordon was. When the younger Tracy had opted for the Navy right out of high school, their father had been bemused, but assumed Gordon just didn't want to be in Scott's shadow.

Of course, Virgil had known that there was nothing further from the truth. Gordon of all his brothers had never felt he was in anyone's shadow, not even their illustrious father's. Gordon just followed to the beat of a different drummer. Scott had once said it wasn't so much a different drummer as a different kazoo player.

Gordon smiled shaking his head. "Dad, I never applied to flight school. I graduated at the top of my class. People below me applied to flight school because they weren't good enough for the Deepsea program. Trust me, Dad, you're going to be proud of me, I promise."

Jeff shook his head, "That was never a question, Gordon. I couldn't be any more proud of you than I am. But son, why would you want to spend your life in a cold dim little box? You can't even open a window on a sunny day."

Gordon started to laugh, but it was John who answered. "Uh, Dad? I believe you just described your lunar vehicle."

All the brothers laughed at the startled look on Jeff's face. After a moment, he ruefully joined them. "All right, I get it. I don't understand it, but I get it."

Maddie approached the table with a heavily laden tray. She set out the platter of rolls and a pile of plates, then set two plates of bacon in front of Gordon who thanked her with a wink and a suggestive grin. She smiled back, biting her lip, and Virgil felt a surge of irritation.

When she left, Jeff said as he helped himself to some bacon, "Son, your grandmother has a ring that I think you should have while you're down in that dome."

"Um, Dad?" Scott interrupted. "Is this the ring you mean? She gave it to me last night." He pulled the ring out on its chain, holding it up the in harsh fluorescent light of the restaurant.

Jeff's eyes widened, and he turned his attention to his eldest. "Where?"

Scott flinched slightly at the tone, but held his head high as he replied, "Izmir. I report on December 29th."

Jeff took a deep breath, slowly nodding. John, for his part, frowned. "Izmir? As in Izmir, Turkey?"

"Give the boy a gold star."

"What's with the ring? Looks a little sissy, even for you, Scott." Gordon smirked.

"Never you mind, Gordon. Mom made the right decision. If you're going into a combat zone, you'll need that ring, son."

Virgil and Scott both raised their eyebrows. "Come on, Dad, you don't buy that magic ring story, do you?" Scott asked askance.

"Magic ring?" John's interest was peaked.

"Grandma says Grandma Ettie said it would keep people safe in war." Virgil said quietly.

"Aw, what's the point of that? I want the one that grants three wishes." Gordon stated.

"Grandma Ettie? Is that the water witch or the great white hunter?" John asked.

"Water witch."

"Dad? You didn't answer. You don't believe this ring has power, do you?"

Jeff looked as if he didn't want to answer. Finally, he shook his head. "You boys never met your great-grandpa Joe. That's a damn shame, because he was a wonderful man. When I was a kid, he used to take me with him when he went on VFW trips. I learned a lot of history, and an abiding respect for the sacrifices of those who have protected this country of ours." Jeff sat reflecting for a moment before continuing. "When I first joined the Air Force, he sat me down and told me about that ring. Grandpa Joe wasn't given to idle gossip, or flights of fantasy, but he was convinced that he survived World War Two because of that ring. He said his own father George had been caught in a gas attack in Belleau Wood in World War One, and was the only one left standing. Grandpa Joe would never admit it to it to Grandma Ettie, or Mom, but he believed in that ring. I believed in him, so I wore the ring, and there were times when I was sure I was a dead man, but I'm here before you today."

Scott looked over at his younger brother, a sudden serious frown on his face. "Gordy, maybe you'd better take it."

"What? Why?" Gordon held up his hands, forestalling the gift.

"That Deepsea base is at least as dangerous as anything I'll be facing. Take it."

"No way, man. I'm not the cannon fodder here. Grandma gave it to you. You keep it."

"Gordy…"

"No, Scott, Gordon's right. You're going to a combat zone, he isn't. Mom knew what she was doing in giving it to you and not your brother. Now put it away." Jeff ordered quietly.

Scott froze, a worried frown on his face. Virgil wondered if his overly protective older brother would think of a successful argument. The moment was broken when Gordon looked out the window and said brightly, "Oh, look. Here comes Alan."

The family looked out to see a large SUV coming at high speed onto the tarmac. To the gasps of the older Tracys, the car accelerated then the wheels screeched as driver the sharply turned the wheel, bringing the car to a skidding stop next to the two vans already parked.

John barely glanced up at the display, and Gordon muttered casually, "show off."

Jeff, Scott and Virgil all had looks of heart-stopped horror on their faces. When Alan hopped out, Jeff's face went beet red with anger. Scott and Virgil both started to breathe again, and Scott shook his head in disgust. Virgil, seeing the anger growing in his brother's eyes, felt compelled to step in. "Okay, you two, relax. Nothing happened. Alan obviously doesn't know you're here, he was just showing off for John and Gordon."

"He could have killed himself." Scott said tightly.

"I've got it under control, guys. One punishment, coming up." Gordon said happily, his eyes never leaving his brother on the tarmac.

"What?" Jeff said, confused. The other brothers, recognizing the signs, joined Gordon in watching intently as Alan skipped over to the ten-seat jet. The youngest Tracy fumbled with a key ring for a moment, then reached up to key open the elevated cargo compartment. The mechanical cargo door slid upward, releasing a torrent of boxes and bags onto the head of the hapless teenager.

Laughing heartily, the four Tracy brothers at the table did a group high five. Jeff shook his head, his anger evaporated. "There wasn't anything heavy there, was there, son?"

"Naw, it's mostly just clothes and stuff." Gordon sat watching, hugely entertained, as his younger brother, tried picking up the bags, but got twisted up, and fell on his butt.

Still chuckling, Scott got up and headed for the door, and after a moment, Virgil followed. John and Gordon looked at each other and shrugged, getting up to help. Jeff sat back, sipping coffee, content to let his sons help one another.