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While Cal radioed in the boat’s position and the presence of three survivors in the water with life jackets, Tag dropped a marine location marker to record the survivors’ current position in the ocean. Losing sight of the men down there could be fatal. Fortunately, there didn’t appear to be any fuel in the water.

“Bull’s-eye.” Daeg high-fived him as the flare hit the water, gushing white smoke and yellow flame.

While Cal radioed for a Coast Guard patrol boat to assist with a possible tow, Daeg and Tag assessed the weather conditions. Although the wind was running almost twenty knots per hour, the waves remained a relatively modest six feet. Sure, the ocean below was no swimming pool, but Tag had swum in far worse. The reasons why the Fish Me Crazy had rolled weren’t immediately clear, however. Rogue wave? Poor maneuverability? There was no way to know. “We’re going to put them in the swing and hoist them up.” Cal stared at him steadily. “As quick as we can, because they’ve been in the water for a while and they’re going to be tired.”

“Got it.” Pulling on the rescue strop, he connected the tending line to the V ring on his harness and then moved into the ready position in the door. Cal steadied him, a hand hooked in the harness, while Ben kept the chopper nice and stable, the wash from the rotors pushing out the water. After one final safety check on his gear, he stepped out, and Cal lowered him down.

Arms crossed over his chest, fins down, he entered the water. Swimming free of the rescue strop, he stroked hard through the explosion of bubbles around his face, aiming for the surface and the boat. A quick visual check for hazards turned up nothing—the surface was clear and pretty aside from the rotor wash from the helicopter. Any debris from the Fish Me Crazy was long gone. Looking up, he signaled he was okay. Another fine day at the office.

Getting his head above water, he swam toward the survivors. They looked pretty good for guys who’d spent the night in the water. The one closest to him was pale and clearly fatigued, though, so Tag made a quick decision to send him up first. Reversing, he stopped six feet out. No signs of panic. Good. The last thing he needed today was someone trying to climb him like a ladder.

“You brought the cavalry.” The guy on the end flashed him a thumbs-up, clearly ready to get out of the ocean and back home. Tag didn’t blame him.

He spat out his snorkel. “Better. I’ve brought you some US Navy boys. I need you to turn around and show me your back. Then I’m going to take you one at a time to the sling. Next, it’s an easy ride up to the chopper. You first.”

He pointed toward the pale guy, who nodded.

“Happy to go,” he said. “Just tell me what to do...”

“Turn around and let me do all the heavy lifting.” As soon as he had a clear shot of the guy’s back, he grabbed the life jacket and kicked. The man planed out, floating on his back with feet pointing up, and they headed to the pickup point and the rescue litter. After securing the man, Tag grabbed the line and steadied the basket as it rose. The guy’s day wouldn’t be improved by banging into the side of the chopper. Then it was rinse and repeat with the other two.

“If you’re done down there, we’ll head for home.” Cal’s voice came on over his radio, sounding satisfied, as he should. This rescue had been textbook perfect. While Tag didn’t mind a little adrenaline rush, nice and easy wasn’t a bad thing, either. The three fishermen undoubtedly agreed.

The line descended from the chopper and he swam over to the hoist, connecting his strop to the rescue hook and signaling for pickup. When he rose up out of the water, he shoved his mask back. The ocean looked like a blue-and-white curved ball from his perch, deceptively calm as the Fish Me Crazy’s crew now knew. Daeg braced a booted foot against the chopper bay as he reached out to steady the hoist and bring Tag in, safe and sound. They were all going home, which made today a damned perfect day.

Mia had promised to “make him dinner at his place” later tonight which was code for “pick up takeout.” If he was lucky, it was also code for “waiting naked on the kitchen counter.” Probably not, but he liked the fantasy. Having a female someone waiting for him was different, although he shouldn’t get used to it. Still, although he’d go back to San Diego and she’d stay here, he had every intention of enjoying tonight. The twelve or so hours until then promised to crawl.

Daeg slapped his back as the chopper turned around and flew toward the island. “Bet you’re going to miss all this excitement when you head back to San Diego.”

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