Bracing for the Storm

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Bracing for the Storm Page 1

by Matt Lincoln




  Bracing for the Storm

  Coastal Guardians Book 1

  Matt Lincoln

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Linda

  2. Jake

  3. Linda

  4. Linda

  5. Jake

  6. Linda

  7. Jake

  8. Linda

  9. Jake

  10. Linda

  11. Linda

  12. Jake

  13. Linda

  14. Linda

  15. Jake

  16. Linda

  17. Linda

  18. Jake

  19. Linda

  20. Linda

  21. Jake

  22. Linda

  23. Linda

  24. Jake

  25. Linda

  26. Linda

  27. Jake

  28. Jake

  29. Linda

  30. Jake

  31. Linda

  32. Jake

  33. Linda

  34. Jake

  35. Linda

  36. Jake

  37. Linda

  38. Linda

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  Prologue

  The sun was just starting to rise when I carried my last bag out to the RV and hopped into the driver’s seat. I looked back at my house, the vines crawling steadily up the worn brick facade, the blue paint of the front door starting to peel, and a huge smile broke out on my face.

  My career had taken me to some interesting places, and I would have thought that it would have satisfied the travel bug in me, but it hadn’t. Seeing more of the country only left me wanting to see more of it. It wasn’t long before I had devised the perfect retirement plan - buy an RV and set off on a cross-country road trip.

  Like most of my plans, it took longer to execute than I had anticipated, so as I shifted into drive and eased forward, I found myself wanting to savor each moment.

  Before I could get very far, I had to make a quick stop on the way to my daughter Claire’s house. I knew she wouldn’t mind, and I also knew that I probably had plenty of time.

  When I did pull up in front of her house, I saw multiple bags by the curb, the front door wide open, and her roommate Jenna outside with her Yorkie on his leash. When Jenna spotted me, she waved with her free hand. I waved back as I shifted into park and hopped out of the RV.

  “Hi, Jenna,” I said cheerfully as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

  “Hey, Linda!” she called out with a huge grin. She then turned her head into the direction of the open door. “Claire, you owe me ten bucks! Your mom is here on time, and you’re not ready!”

  I chuckled. I had tried to teach my fast-paced packing skills to my daughter, but it seemed she still hadn’t gotten the hang of it.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!” I heard from inside the house, followed by a flurry of activity as she stumbled out the front door, her crossbody purse tangled in the sleeve of the denim jacket she was trying to wrench onto her arm.

  I stood there patiently with my hands on my hips and watched as she struggled to straighten herself out. I had been very firm on what time I expected to be on the road, but that was only because I knew she always ran late. The truth was, we were thirty minutes ahead of when I really wanted to get going, so there was time to load up and do a last check to see if she’d forgotten anything.

  Claire finally got her act together, gave a final tug on the bottom edge of her denim jacket, and made her way toward me. Her sleek dark hair reflected the growing sunlight, and her expressive hazel eyes were framed by her long eyelashes. I watched as she approached me. Sure, those hazel eyes were from me, but that silky dark hair was all from her dad. I tucked a haphazard curl behind my ear.

  “Mornin’, Mom!” she called out as she skipped forward and gave me a hug.

  “Good morning,” I replied with a smirk. “You ready?”

  “Yes, erm…” Claire looked down at her bags thoughtfully. “I think I have everything!”

  “Phone charger?” I suggested.

  “Yes! I remembered this time.” Claire smiled and jutted her chest out with pride.

  I looked over at her fair skin. “Sunscreen?”

  “Yes,” Claire sighed. “I definitely learned my lesson after last time.”

  Last time had been a family cruise. Claire’s skin had gone from porcelain to lobster red.

  “Good.” I was relieved to hear it. “Alright, let’s hit the road!” I grabbed two of her bags and brought them on board, and she followed behind with the rest.

  “Bye, Jenna!” she called out as she hopped in the passenger seat.

  “Bye, girl!” Jenna waved.

  Claire closed the passenger side door while I buckled myself in, and I shifted into drive, once more feeling impossibly excited about this dream of mine finally coming to fruition.

  “I got fuel last night, so we should be able to make some good headway this morning,” I informed Claire as she dug a plastic bag out from one of her bags. I looked over at her. “What’s all that?”

  “Road snacks!” My crazy daughter turned to me with a huge grin. “It’s not a road trip without snacks!”

  I immediately went to correct her. “It’s more than--”

  “It’s more than a road trip. I know, Mom.” Claire’s tone of voice sounded annoyed, but it didn’t reach her face. “It’s our fourth annual mother/daughter trip, and this time you have an RV so that we can see the country while you catch up with some old friends. I got it. But doesn’t that all sound, well, road-trip-y to you?”

  I looked over to find my daughter grinning at me, her head cocked sideways. She was teasing me, I knew it, but this was important to me in ways I didn’t think she could understand. I sighed as I decided to let her win this argument.

  “Alright, fine,” I shrugged my shoulders in defeat, “but I’ll only concede if you got the good road snacks.”

  “Ma, seriously?” Claire cocked her head at me again in false exasperation. “What kind of daughter do you think I am?”

  She dug through the plastic grocery bag, her thick dark hair covering her face and hiding the bag’s contents. She pulled something out as she flipped her hair back, revealing several King Size Reese’s peanut butter cup packages. Her grin widened as she waited for my reaction.

  “It is way too early for that!” I exclaimed. “Although I do admit, it’s a solid choice.”

  “Thanks,” Claire replied as she dug through the bag again. “I have other stuff, too, but I also grabbed some breakfasty things.” She pulled out a couple of Clif bars and placed them in the tray by the shifter. “Your favorite kind.”

  “Awesome!” I loved my Clif bars, and my daughter always found the macadamia nut ones for me.

  “I have something for you, too,” I replied. “Should have mentioned it earlier, but I forgot.”

  “What’s that?” she perked up and turned to me.

  My eyes were on the red light in front of me as I eased to a stop. “Quick, go to the mini-fridge. Grab them both and hurry back before the light changes.”

  “Grab both what?” Claire pressed.

  I looked at her pointedly. “Go! It’ll be obvious.”

  Claire ripped off her seatbelt and dove behind us. I heard the fridge door open, and a squeal escaped her lips.

  “Starbucks?” she gasped. “Mom, you’re the best!”

  Claire scrambled forward and into her seat, dropping the two cups of iced coffee into their respective cupholders. As soon as she had her seatbelt on, she grabbed her cup and took a huge sip.

  “Mm, thanks, Mom,” she said around her straw.

  “No problem.” I chuckled as I reached for my own cup. As I took a sip, I turned onto the highw
ay entrance ramp and picked up speed.

  “Well, it’s official,” I announced as we got up to speed, and I set the cruise control. “We are on the road.”

  I turned to look at Claire, delight clear on her face. She was clutching her cup with both hands, watching the road before her. I loved these few weeks we had together every year. It was very easy to get wrapped up in the minutiae of life, so hitting the pause button for the two of us every year was the perfect way to stay connected.

  Claire turned to look at me. “What’s up?” she inquired.

  “Nothing,” I smiled at the windshield. “I’m just so happy we are finally doing this! I’m also happy you and I get to take this baby out on its first big trip.”

  “Me too!” She smiled.

  “So, we have snacks, coffee, water bottles in the fridge, and a full tank of gas,” I listed everything I had planned ahead for. “I think we have everything we need for an epic road trip.”

  “You’re right!” Claire said. “So, now, we have two options.”

  “For what?” I looked over at her, confused.

  She had a big smirk on her face. “We either need road trip tunes or a good story.”

  “A good story?” I gave the windshield a puzzled look.

  “Yes,” Claire replied conspiratorially. “And I vote for story over the tunes. I have a Spotify playlist all set up, but that can be for later.”

  “Okay, who is telling stories?” I asked. “I’m unprepared.”

  “Well, I was hoping to hear some of your stories from the Coast Guard,” she suggested. “You said that this whole trip was a dream that you developed while traveling with the Coast Guard, right?”

  “Yeah,” I answered hesitantly.

  “So, what more appropriate time to delve into your travels than right now, during your first big trip that was inspired by your travels?”

  “Oh, wow, okay.” I thought back to my Coast Guard career and the endless stories I could tell. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  “Well, these friends we are meeting, they are mostly from your time in Puerto Rico, right?” Claire tucked her silky dark mane behind her pierced ear and looked at me questioningly.

  “Right,” I replied. “I made some solid friends in Puerto Rico, and now they are spread across the country. I’m sure they have stories of their own to tell.”

  “So, why not start with when you first got down there?” she asked. “What was it like moving there? Was it hard being so far away? Or were you in heaven being on Grandpa’s island? What did you do when you got there? What did you do for fun?”

  “Alright, alright.” I held a palm up toward her to slow the barrage of questions. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you one story now that will answer all your questions. Just the one story. The rest will have to wait until we meet some of my friends. I can’t steal all the good ones. After the story, we’ll put on your music playlist.”

  “Okay, deal,” Claire replied with a grin.

  I sighed and checked the GPS. With a nice, long stretch before our first destination, I had plenty of time to tell this story. I was glad to have the time, too, because this was a favorite story of mine.

  After all, it was the story of how I recruited Jake Header.

  1

  Linda

  OCONUS moves suck. There’s no pretty way to say it. A typical military unit transfer is tough enough, but going OCONUS, or outside the continental United States, just amplifies the stress and pretty much guarantees that something will go wrong. After all of the extra paperwork and headaches packing up and leaving Virginia, I was faced with another set of paperwork and headaches once I arrived on the gorgeous island of Puerto Rico.

  In fact, I woke up on my first morning in Puerto Rico with a voicemail from the moving company. I needed to go to the Hacienda to get the paperwork set up for my motorcycle. Without that paperwork, the moving company couldn’t release my motorcycle to me, and since my Harley was packed away with the rest of my household goods, guess what else I wasn’t getting until I got this done?

  When all was said and done, and my Harley and the rest of my stuff arrived on the truck, I discovered that almost half of my big-ticket items had sustained some type of damage in the move. My scratched dining room table, broken sofa, and damaged-beyond-repair bed frame were all part of my aesthetic now. Thankfully, my Harley had come through unscathed.

  In true Coast Guard fashion, the boat I was assigned to was getting underway the day after I received my household goods. I spent that evening unpacking so that I could pack again, and left my apartment full of cardboard boxes bright and early the next morning to meet the crew.

  Despite all the hurdles I had to jump through to get down here in one piece, I was very excited to be here. When the opportunity to become Executive Officer of a boat in Puerto Rico popped up, I knew I needed to grab it. Being XO would be a huge plus for my career, and being in Puerto Rico made it all that much better. My dad was buried here on the island where he was born, and the cemetery was nearby. I knew I had to go see him as soon as I could. As a matter of fact, Jake would demand it. I hoped my time down here would make my dad proud.

  It was an uneventful patrol. FRCs, or fast response cutters, only stay out for a few weeks at a time, and we tend to get two port calls during that time. I knew that I would not get much out of the port calls during this first patrol since, as the new addition to the team, I had to get qualified and get a bunch of paperwork done before I could really get into my actual job. While most of the crew went out and took advantage of the port call, I stayed back and got as much done as I could. I really wanted to dive into my new role head first, so I wanted to get this all knocked out and taken care of.

  Despite the obscene amount of paperwork and qualifying that I needed to do, I was still able to get to know a few of my new crew members. There was CO Charles Watson, of course. He was my immediate supervisor. The principal to my vice-principal if you will. While he oversaw the major aspects of the patrol, I handled most of the paperwork and direct crew interactions. If any of the crew had specific issues they needed to address, it had to go through me first. CO Watson handled the big picture, while I handled the day-to-day.

  Then there was OPS. Our Operations Officer, or OPS, was Ensign Jared Driscoll. This was the guy who ran the Operations department and was usually the one getting intel on drug busts or migrant interdictions. He reported any information he found to both myself and CO Watson so that we could act on it quickly.

  The third guy I knew I would see a lot of was BMC. Our Chief Boatswains Mate, Luke Sanchez embraced his job overseeing the Deck department and the rest of the Boatswains Mates. Rumor around the cutter was that BMC was a pretty chill guy, and not at all creepy like his mustache would imply.

  EPO Kyle Rodriguez was also part of the mustache-wearing crew. Despite the strict mustache regulations, he somehow made it work so that it didn’t look creepy at all. Rodriguez was the Engineering Petty Officer. He was also a Chief, an EM, or Electrician’s Mate, and between himself and Chief Sanchez, there were always plenty of jokes to go around.

  With my mind set on being part of the Boarding Team, I took the time to get to know a couple of the Boarding Team members, as well. GM2 Debra Slade, our Second Class Gunner’s Mate, welcomed me on board immediately. She was a good person to know. As the only Gunner’s Mate on the boat, she was single-handedly in charge of all firearms and ammunition, as well as the training and qualifications for all of the crew members. On my last boat, I was the Weapons Officer and worked side by side with my Gunner’s Mates there. I knew what her job entailed, so I knew how hard she worked.

  “Knock, knock.” I turned to my doorway to see her standing there during the second leg of our patrol. We had already hit one port call and were due to hit the next one any day now.

  “Hey, GM2,” I replied casually as I swiveled my chair toward the doorway. “How’s things?”

  “Not bad,” she said, propping herself on the doorframe. “I
know you need to make sure all your quals are up-to-date. Do you need me for anything?”

  “I just need to make sure I have everything done on this sheet here.” I handed the sheet in question over to her. On it was a list of everything that I needed to handle before I could be fully qualified.

  Slade scanned the sheet briefly. “Okay,” she said thoughtfully. “Most of this is no big deal, but I’m going to set up a range date so we can get all of your shooting quals done.”

  She handed the sheet back to me with a grin. “We’re excited to have you on board!”

  “Thanks!” I returned the smile as I replaced the sheet in my folder. “I’m excited to be here. I heard the last XO wasn’t too popular.”

  Slade cleared her throat. “He was… unique,” she said vaguely. “It’s good you’re here.” She smiled warmly and headed out. “I’ll let you know what the date is!” she called over her shoulder on the way out the door.

  When we pulled back into San Juan at the end of the patrol, I felt confident that most of my work was done. I would truly be able to appreciate the next patrol, especially now that I’d had an opportunity to thoroughly unpack and find the rest of my stuff. For the first time in a while, I woke up the next morning without having to rush out the door or worry about a deadline. It was just me and my cardboard boxes, and I picked through everything one box at a time.

  I took a lunch break and called my mom. She answered after the first ring.

 

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