Always Ready

by Susan Page Davis

  Right now the fatigue of fisheries law enforcement had worn him down. He’d be glad to get back to Kodiak Island and spend some time on land. Maybe he’d even make it to church this Sunday.

  Church. Would the buoy tender Wintergreen be in port now? If so, the new boatswain’s mate third class would probably be at church Sunday morning. He’d met her there a few weeks ago, before her ship put out for an extended deployment. Caddie Lyle. He could picture her serious blue eyes and pert nose. She wasn’t beautiful, but she had a wholesome attractiveness and a quiet determination that appealed to him. The memory of her perked him up considerably as they weighed the slippery, smelly fish. Next time they were both in port, he would ask her out. That settled, he got on with the job.

  An hour in the cold storage unit was unpleasant, but it gave him enough time to double-check the seamen’s weigh-ins. Time to issue the citation to the boat’s captain. Meanwhile, he assigned another man to run through the checklist of safety requirements.

  He emerged smelly and sticky into the fresh air on deck again, convinced his men’s assessment was accurate. He pulled in a deep breath. It was summer in Alaska, but the sea air still held an arctic edge, and the waters remained icy cold. If a man fell over the side, the frigid waves would sap his strength in seconds, and his heavy clothing would drag him down.

  On the main deck, Wayne still stood a few feet from Andrews, who looked none too happy. The rest of the boat’s crew had stopped working and milled aimlessly about the deck, waiting for Aven’s verdict. Adjusting his gait to the rolling of the boat, he walked over and handed the skipper his clipboard and showed him where to sign the inspection form.

  “I can’t talk you out of this?” the bearded man growled.

  “No, sir. You can appeal if you wish, but we’ve verified the discrepancies in weight twice. You’re carrying way more salmon than your records claim.”

  “Your scales disagree with mine.”

  Aven shrugged. “Ours were calibrated three weeks ago, and they’re the official instruments. If you were off by a few pounds, we wouldn’t think much of it.” He turned to Seaman Kusiak. “Did you check on mandatory safety equipment yet?”

  Kusiak nodded. “Yes. They’ve got most of what’s required.” He held out a form.

  Aven looked over the checklist and noted the lack of two personal flotation devices and a case of flares whose expiration date had come and gone. The captain would face a stiff fine for certain because of the bulging refrigeration lockers below. The safety violations would add more fines and red flag the boat for another inspection soon.

  Aven beckoned Wayne a few steps away, down the deck, and asked quietly, “Anything else I should know?”

  “Just that they’re not happy.”

  “They never are. Did they threaten you while I was below?”

  Wayne hesitated.

  “Come on.” Aven walked several paces away and turned around so that he faced the captain and crew but Wayne had his back to them.

  “The big guy in the red hat.”

  Aven scanned the crewmen and nodded.

  “He said something to the skipper about how easy it would be to get the jump on us.”

  “What did Andrews say?”

  “Said he was nuts. The Guard would be all over them like a flock of seagulls on a garbage dump.”

  “He’s right. Anything else?”

  “No, just muttering and dirty looks.”

  “Okay. You and Kusiak be ready to get down into the boat. We’ll board in a minute.” Aven strode back to the captain and met his gaze for a long moment. “Make sure you’ve got all your PFDs next time.” He tore off the carbon and handed Andrews the citation. “You’ll be notified soon when and where to appear in court.”

  “Yeah, right.” The captain squinted at the paper. The wind fluttered it, and he reached up with his other hand to hold it steady. Half a dozen of his crewmen closed in around him, glaring at Aven and his team. The hulking man in the red knit cap looked over the captain’s shoulder at the paper and swore.

  Aven did a quick mental assessment. When a man’s livelihood and that of his whole crew was threatened, anything could happen. The Coastguardsmen were outnumbered. Although he had a pistol, his men were unarmed. No telling what weapons the fishermen carried. Prudence dictated that they make their exit.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” he said.

  “Just get off my boat.” Andrews glared at him.

  The big fisherman spat out a filthy insult, advancing a menacing step toward him.

  Aven held his gaze. “I’d advise you to stay calm. I have the power to arrest you.”

  Three other men fell in beside the big man. One of them held a hooked fish gaff.

  Aven reached for the button on his radio. The big man swung fast—faster than Aven could react. The blow to his midsection sent him sprawling backward toward the rail where his men waited.

  Two

  Caddie lay on the bunk in sick bay and focused on the lights overhead. The painkillers were already taking effect. The stabbing pangs in her arm had eased, but she still felt the deep, throbbing ache.

  Edward Smail, the hospital corpsman who’d dressed her fractured arm, hovered over her. “All right, that should keep your arm immobilized until we get home and a real doctor can look at it. Let me look at that bump on your head now.”

  Caddie blinked in surprise, but when she’d absorbed his words, she realized that her head did ache, too. She put her right hand up to her hairline and carefully fingered the lump.

  “I didn’t even know I’d hit my head.”

  Smail shrugged. “That arm’s going to give you something to think about for at least six weeks. But you’ve got a goose egg, too.”

  “Can I go to my quarters?”

  “No, I think I’d better keep you here where I can observe you until we reach Kodiak.” He smoothed her hair back and pulled in an overhead lamp on an expanding arm. “Yeah, that’s a good one.”

  “Concussion?” she asked.

  “Maybe. I’m not a doctor, but the men did say you were pretty groggy for a while. Didn’t pass out completely, but disoriented for sure when I first laid eyes on you.”

  She scrunched up her face, but that hurt, so she forced herself to relax. “We lost a man.”

  “What?”

  “One of the Russians. There were fourteen on board, and we only got thirteen out of the water.”

  “I don’t know about that. But I do know you did a good job.”

  She wasn’t so sure. One man had died. How could anyone perceive that as acceptable?

  The boatswain hadn’t. She remembered strong hands lifting her to the deck of the Wintergreen, where the seamen had crowded around her. Distinctly, she’d heard Tilley mutter, “This is why men should take the hazardous duty.”

  “Can I sleep?” she asked. “I feel really tired.”

  Smail hesitated. “Okay, but I’ll wake you up now and then to take your vitals and make sure you’re still coherent.”

  She smiled wryly at that. “Right. I’m sure you’ve got a manual six inches thick to tell you exactly what to watch for.”

  “I sure do. This bump’s not bleeding, so I’m going to leave it alone.” Smail turned to put away his supplies and tidy the counter.

  Caddie sighed and nestled into the pillow. She wouldn’t think about Tilley. The captain had trusted her enough to send her out with a detail of six men. She would forget about the boatswain’s perpetual scowl and his antipathy to female petty officers.

  Maybe after a while, when she wasn’t so benumbed, she’d roll over on her side. She couldn’t lie on her left side because of her broken arm and the lump on her temple. She’d have to try her right side. Later.

  What would her mother say? Her eyelids flew open and she winced. Mom would have fits. Caddie’s first long deployment in Alaskan waters, and she’d been injured. Smail seemed to think she’d get several weeks of medical leave. She’d like to go home for a visit, though Mom would fuss
over her. Would that be so bad? And would the Coast Guard pay for her flight? Probably not. Of course, if she left Kodiak, she wouldn’t see Aven Holland again.

  That was a depressing thought. She’d only met the Milroy’s boatswain’s mate once—at church a few weeks ago—but she’d hoped to see him again soon. Whenever they were both in port again. Which could be tricky when they served on different ships.

  But that’s good, she sleepily reminded herself. If they were on the same ship, they wouldn’t be allowed to date. But since she was on the Wintergreen and Aven was on the Milroy, they might actually have a chance. . . .

  She drifted off into blessed velvety darkness.

  ❧

  Strong hands grabbed Aven and held him up.

  “You all right, sir?” Kusiak’s strained voice was close to his ear.

  Aven pressed the throbbing spot on his abdomen where the punch had landed. He gasped for breath. “Don’t call me—”

  Reality rushed back to him. Half a dozen fishermen advanced toward them, clenching their fists. One held a knife, and the one with the gaff seemed focused on Aven. He grabbed his radio and pushed the call button. “This is Milroy 1. Request immediate aid. We’re arresting the crew and impounding this vessel. They’re armed and hostile.”

  “Affirmative,” his superior replied. “Milroy is en route to Molly K, ETA ten minutes.”

  The briefest glance showed Aven that the cutter was already headed their way and had a Zodiac in the davits so more men could join him on the fishing boat as quickly as possible. The other inspection crews had probably returned to the cutter.

  Give me ten minutes, Lord. Let us keep a lid on things for ten minutes.

  He held up a hand and spoke firmly. “Stand back. You’re under arrest. You’ll be taken to shore and turned over to the state police.”

  The big man swung again, but Aven dodged the blow this time and came up with his pistol in his hand. As he straightened, he heard the smack of bone on flesh beside him, and his four men flew into the fray. Aven alone stood his ground, with his pistol leveled at the big fisherman in the red hat.

  Kusiak tumbled into Aven, a gash on the side of his head streaming blood. Aven tilted the pistol and fired a shot just over the big man’s head.

  “Get back! All of you!”

  In the shocked silence, the crew of the Molly K hesitated and looked toward their captain. Andrews stood a little apart, near the hatch, and Aven didn’t think he’d taken part in the melee. He looked at Aven for a moment then his shoulders wilted.

  “Do as he says.” The knowledge that he’d lost his boat showed in the tight lines of his face.

  The fishermen shuffled toward the bow. Aven’s men scrambled to stand beside him again, keeping watchful eyes on their adversaries. Captain Andrews dragged his feet across the deck and turned slowly, standing amid his crew.

  “All right, all of you hit the deck, and I mean now.” Aven swept the pistol in a slow arc in front of him, panning the cluster of glowering men.

  His seamen stood around him panting, still coiled tight with unexpended energy. Kusiak swayed. The wound on his temple bled freely, and Aven wondered how the young seaman could stay upright on the rocking boat.

  He turned his attention back to the boat’s crew. They were waiting, watching the huge man who’d led the confrontation.

  “Hit the deck, or I’ll drop you,” Aven growled. If he lost control now, it was all over. Would he be able to pull the trigger if the man charged him? Yes.

  The fishermen stared at him, waiting. The fierce wind buffeted them, pulling at their beards and clothing.

  Captain Andrews dropped to his knees. One by one, the other men followed. The big man was the last to go down.

  Aven exhaled.

  ❧

  Caddie awoke and looked warily around. The room was too big for a ship’s cabin. Slowly the events of the last two days came back to her. The docking in Kodiak and her transfer to the hospital ashore. Surgery.

  She grimaced. Her compound fracture required an operation, so the doctor could insert a pin at the elbow. The surgeon had assured her she would heal and be able to resume her duties in six weeks. She’d asked what that would mean as far as her career went, but he hadn’t been able to tell her.

  She struggled to sit up, but pain lanced through her bandaged arm. Hadn’t the doctor said something about putting it in a cast? Not for a few days, she recalled. It would have to wait until the swelling had subsided.

  She spotted a button on the bed’s side rail and pushed it. The head end of the bed slowly elevated. Progress.

  Just as she’d reached a more comfortable level, a nurse entered the room. “Well, good morning! Feeling better?”

  “Not really. My arm hurts.”

  “I’ll get your meds.” The nurse seemed to have a perpetual smile. Her uniform smock with green and purple dinosaurs might go over better in the children’s ward. “Feel like eating breakfast?”

  “Uh. . .maybe. What time is it?”

  The nurse cocked her head to one side, still smiling. “Just after nine o’clock. It’s a little late for breakfast, but I asked them to hold a tray for you.”

  “Thank you,” Caddie said. She put her hand up to her head. The bump was still there, still sore. “Is it Wednesday?”

  “Thursday. They brought you in yesterday and you had your surgery. You’ve slept a good ten hours.”

  “Oh.” At least they hadn’t wakened her every hour, as Smail had done on the ship.

  “I’ll come right back with your painkillers and breakfast.”

  The nurse left the room, and Caddie lay back, remembering the arduous rescue of the Russian fishermen.

  “I didn’t get to see Attu,” she said aloud. She had looked forward to seeing the memorial commemorating the only battle fought on American soil in World War II. Her father had described it to her. . .and his mixed feelings of dismay and patriotism when he’d viewed it. Another chance to see the landmark wouldn’t come soon.

  A soft knock at the door again drew her attention. Aven Holland came in hesitantly, eyeing her with uncertain dark eyes. He held a rolled-up magazine in one hand. “Hi. Remember me?”

  She couldn’t hold back a grin then realized she was wearing a johnny, in contrast to his neat shipboard work uniform. She grabbed the edge of the coverlet and yanked it up to her collarbone. “Of course. Come on in.”

  He came closer and stood awkwardly a couple of feet from her bed. “I brought one of the seamen from the Milroy in for stitches, and they told me downstairs you were here.”

  “What happened on the Milroy? An accident?”

  “Not exactly. We had a little fracas with the crew of a fishing boat. Had to impound the boat and haul them in. Kusiak got cut up a little.”

  “Wow. Sounds like a bad week for our side.” She gazed up at him and her heart fluttered. His concern was evident, as was his discomfort. Could this well-muscled boatswain’s mate harbor a shy side? She’d noticed a hesitance about him when they’d first met a few weeks ago, after the adult Sunday school class.

  She’d gone to church in town with her friend Jo-Lynn Phifer and her husband. The young couple, who lived a few doors down from Caddie in base housing, had been married a year. Mark Phifer held a slightly lower rank than Caddie, and he served with Aven on the law enforcement cutter Milroy.

  Aven looked even better than she remembered. And he’d cared enough to come up and see her when he’d heard she was hurt.

  “Who did you say told you I was here?”

  “I ran into a medic from your ship. Smail.”

  Caddie nodded. The hospital corpsman must have come to check on her.

  “He said you had a tough time on a rescue mission and got smashed up just as you were about to reboard the Wintergreen.”

  “That’s about right. A Russian trawler was taking on water. I’m not sure what happened—if they hit somethingor what. The sea was rough. Anyway, it was about to sink when we got there, and the crew had aba
ndoned ship.”

  Aven nodded, gazing attentively into her eyes.

  Caddie recalled their timid first meeting at church. Small talk, blushing, eyeing each other with speculation—too much like high school. But after they’d parted, she couldn’t stop thinking about Aven. Her ship was deployed the next day for more than a month, and she’d received a rapid initiation to life in the Gulf of Alaska, then on into the Bering Sea. She knew Aven and Mark had been out on shorter cruises during that time, inspecting fishing vessels. She’d only been able to hope and pray that they’d be in Kodiak at the same time again when her ship returned to port.

  “I wonder where my camera is,” she said.

  Aven’s eyes widened. “Your camera?”

  “I had it in my locker on the ship with my clothes and things.”

  “It’s probably still there. I expect one of the Wintergreen’s officers will come in today and bring you up to speed. If they have to deploy without you, they’ll send your things ashore.”

  Caddie nodded, trying to follow. Her head throbbed. “So. . .how long are you here for?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve got to fly to the mainland tomorrow. The fishermen we arrested will be arraigned in Anchorage. The police want me on hand in case they need my testimony.”

  “Doesn’t that usually happen at the trial?”

  “Well yes, but this is a messy situation. We arrested seven men, and we need to make sure the charges stick for all of them. The police don’t want to take a chance of any of them walking, so they want me to give a deposition to the district attorney.”

  “The fishermen resisted arrest?” Caddie asked.

  “Big time. Not the captain. But we’d already charged him with exceeding his limits and safety violations, so he’s in custody, too. I’m afraid he’s lost his boat for good.” He tapped the magazine against his thigh and suddenly seemed to realize he held it. “Oh hey, I picked this up at the gift shop downstairs. Don’t know if you like crosswords. . .” He held it out tentatively.