Lead Guitarist & Tags/Solo3

Muscle Boy Island

Chapter 13
Ally

Jared had slept during most of the 24 hours of his unbelievable recovery. When he awoke, fully healed, he was to say the least, speechless. Tom explained, "We dressed the wound and gave you a transfusion. It was Jack's blood that matched yours. Eric took a bad hit not long after you people arrived. We thought we'd lost him and by next morning, he was completely healed, just like you. He was a lot worse off than you and he healed in about half the time you took. But, obviously, their blood has the capacity to transfer a good bit of their phenomenal recuperative powers through transfusion. Actually, it was Ricky's idea. He hasn't left your side the whole time."

Jared was even more taken aback by the kindness of his captors even than his phenomenal recovery with the aid of Jack's blood in his veins.

"Why are you people doing this for me? I came here to kidnap you and to kill these boys."

"No you didn't, Jared." Tom replied. "If you had, you would have shot us when you pulled your pistol and tried to eat that bullet. Why didn't you turn your weapon on us?"

Then Tom turned to Jack and Ricky. "You boys round up Eric and Alex. I think we should be moving out, now. Can't afford to stay in any one place too long. Lets not push our luck, eh? I think you can move OK now, can't you, Jared?"

"Yeah, I think so. And you're right, Tom. No doubt Wright and his goons are doing a sector-by-sector search, sweeping this whole island. Only a matter of time before they pass this way."

Tom put his hand on Jared's shoulder. "Jared, I'm not a religious man and I'm not superstitious at all. But if I were, I'd swear our finding you was some kind of miracle. We saw what you did with your people, risking your life to save them. I don't know how in hell you fell in with these bastards, but I'd bet even money there's some kind of story there. We're in a really tight corner with no way we can see to get out of it. Will you help us? Can you help us?"

Jared looked up at Tom. "I'm not really sure. Right now we've got to keep moving and evading. Maybe I can come up with something."

Tom gathered his boys around and explained to them that he wanted them to trust Jared and to follow whatever instructions he gave them. Then he turned to Jared and explained, "We'll follow your lead, Jared. It's the only chance I can see we've got. But you've got to remember, even though none of these kids is expendable, they have strength and abilities that you and I are going to have to rely on if we're going to have any chance at all to level the playing field here."

"Tom, our target folder had fairly decent intell. on this 'Project Hercules' of yours and Dr. Vanderhaeghe's. And I've been on the receiving end of some of their 'mischief.' So far, this 'goat-rope' OP has been Home Alone,… SQUARED. It's been kinda like goin' up against McCauley Caughlin and Superboy combined! I don't think I'll have any problem at all keeping in mind what these boys can do."

"We're going to have to keep moving to have any chance of avoiding detection. And eventually, we'll have to do some reconnoitering of our own. I want to find someplace that's already been swept and try to give you and the boys some 'school-call' on how to move and how to manage a takedown. First thing, we're going to need some weapons. Best way to do that, I think is to ambush a patrol, take 'em out and grab their stuff. But I won't be able to afford you and these kids going soft on me. When we pounce, I expect them to be taken out, period. And I can't manage all the dirty work by myself. We're going to have to do some killing before this is over."

Tom had made this same argument with Eric after the boy had downed that forger jump-jet. He nodded to Jared and turned to the boys. They nodded too, their expressions grave but determined. Tom marveled again at his boys' complete lack of blood lust for their mortal enemies. Jared wasn't entirely satisfied. He felt they would need to be a lot more aggressive if they were going to have any chance at all of getting off this island in one piece. But, hey, this was the hand he'd been dealt. An egg-head 'nutty professor,' even if he was built like a defensive lineman, four 'love-and-peace flower children,' even if they were the strongest human beings alive, no weapons, except for Jared's Glock 40 cal., and except for him, no military training or combat skills. Things had sure gotten… 'interesting!'

Tom had the boys bury their tent bag and with light provisions, the band moved out. Rick walked 'point' 150 - 250 feet [50-75 m] ahead with Eric and Alex deployed 65 feet [20 m] left and right of Rick. Jack brought up the rear with Jared and Tom in the center. Neither man liked screening themselves behind these kids, but Jared reluctantly concluded this was their optimum formation. Jared did not really expect these four boys to be particularly aggressive. All of the damage they'd done to Wright's mercenary force had occurred in defensive, not offensive engagements. In nearly a dozen encounters with Wright's mercs, not once had Tom or the boys taken the initiative. But Jared was taking no chances. One-by-one, Jared swore each of the young muscle prodigies, individually, on solemn oath, that they would not try any 'cowboy' heroics on their own. The immediate objective here was to avoid detection at all costs. Winning an 'impromptu' skirmish was a long shot at best and even if they did, enemy mercenaries would certainly manage to broadcast a contact report before going down. Each of the boys had agreed in turn. Jared assured each of them that when he judged the time was right, they'd set up an ambush and engineer a takedown. But it would be on their terms, not the enemy's, and on their initiative, not the enemy's.

The group had been on the move about two hours when Eric spotted a small enemy patrol moving in on their left flank. It didn't look like they'd been detected. The three boys in the lead doubled back and, as agreed, everyone ascended the tree trunks. There was no time for the older men's dignity. Jack snatched Tom. Ricky got Jared, like a sack of potatoes and up they went. The enemy patrol passed harmlessly underneath, never detecting their prey. They agreed it would be a good idea to offset their position 150 feet [50 m] or so to their left, realigning their route of march through the jungle. They were in no hurry to do this, so Tom and Jared moved independently through the canopy. No way they could match the boys in speed, but, as well conditioned athletes, both men were agile enough to make their way this short distance. The boys adjusted their own speed of travel so they could all stay together.

Just as they arrived over their objective, the tree limb Jack was hanging onto broke clean through. Like a cracking whip, Jared's left hand shot out, snagging the boy's right wrist. And then, Jared's supporting tree limb began to fail. Jack's added weight was just too much. The tree branch splintered and folded. Jared held on for dear life, his own as well as Jack's; Ricky was overhead on a neigh-boring branch, reaching out for Jared in desperation, but he was just out of reach. Jack looked up at Jared. "Look man. You're gonna hafta let me go. That tree branch is coming down if you don't."

"Naw, kid. Sorry. Can't do that. We go down, we're going down together. Now just chill out and let me figure this out. Don't move or do anything stupid. We might split this branch clean through. I'd turn you loose and let you climb on up my body, bit I'm pretty sure this branch will give way with that much motion. You've got to trust me to hang onto you. I won't let go."

"That's just it, Jared. You HAVE to let go. I can take this fall. Me and the other guys do this all the time… Done it since we were little kids! We always come up without a scratch!"

"Jack's right," Tom broke in from a few feet away in another tree. I know its hard but you've got to trust us. Please, Jared. It'll be OK, I swear."

Here was Jared facing a life or death situation and here THEY were, even Tom, spouting all this NONSENSE about letting this boy take a 100 foot [30 m] fall! They were throwing him off his concentration!

Jack broke the impasse. "Jared. Listen to me. Don't be afraid. I'm just going to reach up with my left hand and pull myself free. I know why you can't let go. Maybe if I were you, I couldn't either." Jared's grip was strong. Very strong. But as easily as Jared would have pulled free of the grip of an infant, Jack pulled free of Jared.

Jack still held onto Jared's left wrist with his own. He looked up at Jared. "It's OK, man. It's just that I'm so strong. It's not your fault. No way you could've held onto me. Please don't worry. I'm gonna be OK. Just hold on and we'll get you outta this." Then Jack let go and began to fall over 100 feet [30 m] to the jungle floor below. His hands above his head and then pulled in across his chest as Jack prepared for his crash landing. Jared started down at Jack in horror, letting out a soft, low-throated groan of despair.

Before Jack reached the ground, Jared's branch broke clean through. For the second time today, Jared started recitation of his final Act of Contrition. As he hurtled earthward, he glanced down in time to see Jack slam into the ground, breaking his fall with a rolling somersault, coming to his feet unharmed. The kid had made it!

From directly overhead Ricky called out to Jared, "hang on, man. I'm coming." Jared couldn't see Ricky, but he knew now exactly what was coming. Ricky, perched on a tree limb just overhead and just out of reach of Jared propelled himself down toward his target with incredible power in his spring-coiled legs. Ricky had attained greater than terminal velocity before his feet cleared the branch. Less than one second later, he slammed into Jared's body with unbelievable force, overcoming the full-grown man's inertia with his own, snagging him under his armpits with his muscular left arm. Jared was no varsity gymnast, but he'd done some intramural stuff in high school on the floor, parallel bars and high bar. He discarded the pigheadedness he'd shown with Jack like an ill-fitting, worn-out garment and in a brilliant flash of inspiration went with the flow. Jared had a marvelous, instinctive sense of spatial geometry and in a leap of insight nothing short of phenomenal, just before Jack slammed into him, grasped exactly what was about to happen. He would give Ricky his full cooperation and permit this boy to save his life. He allowed Rick to tuck his body in close and streamlined himself alongside. A less agile man probably would not have accomplished his part in his own rescue as adroitly as Jared. The man saw Ricky's target, a tree limb coming on fast, just offset from their nearly vertical, downward, straight and true trajectory. He lowered his head for maximum clearance a fraction of a second before Ricky's right arm snagged the limb. Together, man and boy executed two full 360 degree loops and 180 degrees of a third before gravity finally overcame inertia and they swung back 90 degrees to vertical.

For just a second, they just hung there together. Ricky supporting both of them from the tree limb with his powerful right arm, holding Jared securely into his left side with his other arm. Ricky murmured mechanically, "Its OK 'Lois.' I've got you."

Jared, recognizing the Hollywood reprise and quick on the uptake, did not miss a beat. "You've got me… Who's got you?"

Jared couldn't see Ricky's broad boyish grin, but if he had, his heart would have melted. "Wow man! You've seen that movie too!" Jared reached up for the tree limb and grabbed hold with his own left hand. Together, the two of them hung together, profound relief and mutual admiration washing over them. Ricky gave Jared an affectionate squeeze, just a little tighter. He would have preferred a bear hug, but this was the best he could manage in such an awkward position.

When they got down to the jungle floor below, Ricky explained to Jared and Tom. "Ever since Dr. Vanderhaeghe brought us that old Superman-One, video tape a few months ago, me and the boys have been practicing that 'save.' Way cool that you picked up on our lines, Jared. We said those exact words from the movie every time we got it right and made a good save. We've just started to get it down fairly good. When we started out, we'd call ourselves 'Clark and Lois.' We weren't really doing all that well with it, though. Then Alex figured it out. He'd checked out a Canadian Air Force Web Site on 'formation flying.' He showed us the printout. It said the wing men normally worked harder than the lead pilot, working to maintain proper speed and interval from the lead. It works the same when we're heaving iron in our workouts. The spotter concentrates nearly as hard as the lifter. Maybe harder. So, that was our ticket. 'Superman' was 'lead' and 'Lois,' 'wing man.' 'Wingie' had to trust in his lead and be ready to eat dirt with him if 'lead' messed up. We all ate a lotta dirt for each other. Wingie had to help his lead by going with the flow and by not trying to do the save if his lead missed the limb. No other way we were ever gonna get good. Never thought we'd ever get to do this for real, Jared." Ricky said in frank admiration, "You were about the coolest wingie I've ever been with. Not sure I'd've managed without you being so fast on the uptake. Next time you wanna take lead?"

Ricky flashed Jared another million dollar wide mouth grin that would have melted an iceberg.

Jared just sighed and replied, "Noooo… kid. I think I've had about all the 'fun' with that little maneuver I can stand for one lifetime. Not to mention snagging that tree limb would probably dislocate anybody's shoulders but you guys!"

Tom regarded the muscle-boys with disbelief. "Are you boys crazy? You could've broken your damn fool necks trying a stupid thing like that. Why didn't you TELL me this was going on?"

Alex, standing alongside, gave Tom a playful one-arm squeeze around his middle. "Aw, come on, Tom! Honest… Did you tell YOUR folks everything you got into when you were our age?"

Tom was momentarily completely disarmed by Alex's offhand but genuinely heartfelt allusion to his role as the four boys' 'parent.' Before he could recover, Jared broke in.

"OK, this chit-chat is real nice and all but we gotta get a move on. Now let's shove off."

It wasn't long before they ran into trouble again and this time they weren't so lucky. The enemy patrol spotted them and it was obvious they'd managed to get a signal off to their command post before Jared, Tom and the boys managed to take them down. Jared ordered Tom and the boys to strip the enemy of everything of conceivable value, including their uniforms. Darkly tanned muscle boys running semi-nude through this jungle may have been very picturesque and all, but he wanted them in camouflage uniforms ASAP. He had the boys don captured enemy jungle-pattern uniforms. Tom, as well as each of the boys, strapped on web belts, taken from their victims, each fitted with holsters, each with a Gloch-40! The boys strongly objected when Jared ordered each of them to select a pair of boots with a fairly close fit; but when he continued to insist, Tom ended the debate, reminding them of their promise to follow ALL of Jared's instructions. Then Jared ordered Tom into one of the uniform shirts. There were none among their captured 'loot' large enough for Tom's massive frame, so he ordered the boys to rip out the sleeves and told Tom not to bother buttoning up. It was better than no camouflage at all. They moved away from their point of contact with the enemy patrol just as one of the two surviving forgers arrived overhead. This pilot had learned from his comrade's misfortune so he hovered safely above hurling range of the boys' powerful arms.

Jared knew this was 'game over' unless somebody came up with something fast. No way for one of the boys to hurl debris into the engine inlet this time, but they'd just managed a takedown of that enemy patrol. Jared had found a captured grenade launcher among their 'loot.' He stuffed two of the long rocket grenades into his baggy side pockets, slung the weapon onto his back and proceed to shinny up a tree. He didn't have the phenomenal strength or agility of the boys, but for an ordinary man, his performance was impressive. Even the boys had to grant him credit. Ricky started to go after him but, at Tom's behest, Eric held him back.

"Ricky. This is hard for you. It tough for me too. We both want to go up that tree with Jared but we've got to let him do this on his own. He's the best man for this job and you've got to trust him to do it right, just like he trusted you with that save. You owe him that."

Ricky nodded reluctantly… very reluctantly. But Eric was right. He had no counter argument.

Jared brought if off, of course. Right up the starboard engine inlet with his rocket-propelled grenade. "Scratch forger number two," Jared reported with satisfaction when he rejoined his new friends. "Now Wright is really gonna be pissed. But he's not going to be as fast and loose with his last jump-jet. All of a sudden, the playing field is getting just a wee tad more level, and I'm beginning to think I may have a plan. Now its time we move out. Fast. Bad guys gonna be all over us before you know it."

When they had reached relative safety, deeper in the jungle, Jared took the time to give each of his 'troops,' Tom, Eric, Alex, Ricky and Jack some small-arms orientation. He taught them how to acquire their target, shut one eye, line up the front and rear sight, dead center your target and squeeze, do NOT jerk, the trigger. Jared would have preferred 'live fire' target practice, but the danger was too great that the noise would reveal their position to the hunters, so 'dry fire' would just have to do. They'd all get live fire experience soon enough. Jared cursed the circumstances that had catapulted these gentle, peace loving adolescents into harm's way. Super strength or no, forcing these kids to perform as combatants was a crime against humanity. He prayed to his God that he would be favored with the opportunity to redeem himself for his part in this 'war crime.'

Jared was an experienced combat veteran who ought to have known better than to pray for a thing like that. He got exactly what he asked for sooner than he might have wished.

Too late, they had walked into an ambush. Ricky, Alex and Eric had been walking a three-man point again, but the enemy had remained concealed, allowing the boys to overrun their position. A split second before they opened up on Tom and Jared, Jared heard a metal-to-metal click, a rifle safety-catch selected to 'off!' Without thinking, Jared dove for the dirt, sweeping Tom off his feet with his outstretched arm. Now they were cut off from the three boys in the lead. Jack, completely alone in the rear sprinted through the undergrowth to Tom's side, ignoring the withering enemy fire. He moved so swiftly and he took such good advantage of cover from the jungle floor vegetation, that it was very difficult for enemy sharpshooters to keep Jack in their sights. He made it without a scratch. Jared was furious with himself for allowing his 'formation' to be trapped like this. Jared, Tom and Jack, as well as the boys in front, were armed now, with AK-74 automatic rifles as well as their Glock-40's. He had instructed them to select semi-auto mode (one shot one trigger pull) and impressed upon them the importance of maintaining 'fire discipline.' He had taught them to leap frog from one position to another in their maneuver, one man establishing a base of fire to cover the movement of the others in his formation. In his crash course to Tom and the boys on elementary infantry fire and maneuver, he had described precisely this scenario. In his briefing, he had warned them that most likely, the enemy would be employing the exact same maneuver tactics against them. This meant there were probably more armed men moving in on them than those behind the muzzle flashes dead ahead in their line of march.

Tom had taken the time to observe close up, some of the boys phenomenal strength, speed and stealth. He wanted a fair assessment of their capabilities with a mind to exploiting them to their tactical advantage should the need arise. Tom had protested that the boys were NOT expendable and that they could not be deliberately sent in harm's way. Jared retorted that the chances that any of them escaping this island were 'a very low order of probability.' The chances that they might all get out alive were, statistically, so remote as to be unworthy of serious consideration. There would be casualties. There would be fatalities. Unless Tom and the boys were prepared to reconcile themselves to this fact, none of them had a prayer.

Tom had been enraged. He grabbed Jared by his shirt and shook him, thundering at his cold-blooded ruthlessness. Jared did not fight back. He was as heartsick as Tom that any of these kids might not see another birthday. But, unless they all agreed with Jared in this, there was absolutely no chance whatsoever that any of them would. Tom had calmed down a little, but he was still sputtering in rage, frustration, grief and horror. He had not wanted to face this awful prospect and now here was Jared talking about it as dispassionately as he would relate the muzzle velocity of a standard round from his automatic weapon. Jared offered to relinquish command, but declared simply, as gently as he could that if he were to carry on, it would only be with the understanding that everyone, men and boys, were reconciled to this inevitability and that each of them was prepared to give his life in the cause of escape for the rest of them. Each of the boys readily agreed, but while Tom was ready to lay his own life on the line, he could not agree to sacrifice any of the boys.

Eric spoke for them. "Tom. We've decided among ourselves. There's nothing any of us can do but to try our best. Jared's doing his best. We need you to trust him like you've told us to and do what he says. You heard the man. If we aren't willing to die, none of us is gonna make it. Please Tom."

Tom looked at these four fine young men. So ready to give up their young lives for each other and for him. Such courage and selflessness should have been cause for pride and joy in Tom. But he fell to the ground and wept. It was Jared who, quite uncharacteristically, knelt by Tom and extended a comforting hand to the man, lightly squeezing his shoulder. Jared could not remember when he had felt so keenly in his own heart the pain and desolation of another human being.

Jared gleaned a fairly accurate assessment of the boys' maximum speed over the ground, their abilities with regard to stealth, as well as their disconcertingly surreal, super human ability to shoot up a tree trunk. Jared was no superman. But he was a superb athlete and he'd endured some of the toughest combat training and indoctrination in the world. Not only was he a graduate of BUDS, but he was the honor enlisted graduate in his class. He had also been selected for additional training with the British Special Air Services (SAS) and had participated in ultrasecret joint training exercises with the Spetzialnoye Nazhachenya (Spetznaz) inside Russia. All of this grueling punishment, as well as Jared's maniacally rigorous training and exercise program had Jared in as good conditioning as any man born of ordinary genetics could hope to attain. He had also experienced something of a 'boost' with his transfusion from Jack. He had no idea how long this serendipitous effect would last, but for now, it was a noticeable (and much welcome) improvement over his otherwise quite remarkable strength, agility and endurance.

He impressed on the boys how important it was that they exploit their speed as a weapon. Their enemy had some idea the boys had super-human abilities, but they were not accustomed to fire fights with such swift moving opponents. Jared would employ this superior ability in movement as a 'force multiplier.' They would be able to bring to bear more fighting power against their enemy than their small numbers might suggest. Much more.

As soon as the three boys walking point heard the shooting, they knew what had happened. They had been allowed to over run the enemy ambush which was now between them and Jared, Tom and Jack. Their first objective would be to flank the opposing force and draw their fire to relieve the pressure on their friends. Then they would attempt to rejoin and move off to a predetermined location. If they failed to rejoin, as many as survived would maneuver independently to the rendezvous point.

As it happened, the boys did manage to flank their enemy and draw pressure off Jared, Tom and Jack. This would not have been possible were it not for the phenomenal speed with which they moved through the dense undergrowth. As they were about to disengage and retire toward their rendezvous point about three and a half clicks to the west, an enemy rifleman popped up and leveled his weapon at Jack. Jared saw it first. There was no time to do anything else so he dove between the shooter and Jack a split second before the round tore into his abdomen. Tom shot the assailant in the head and he immediately crumpled.

Jack snatched Jared's now limp body, tucked him under his left arm, his AK-74 in the other and he and Tom moved to rejoin the other three boys at the rendezvous point.

This was worse than the leg. Much worse. And now they were separated from most of their supplies. Jared's prediction that some of them were bound to die seemed to have come horribly true. Tom did his best with the gut wound. He was afraid to take any more blood from Jack this soon. He'd already taken as much as he'd dared for Jared's leg, no more than forty eight hours earlier. Jack begged and pleaded and threatened to draw the blood from himself. Then Alex spoke up. "Tom. I'm o-negative. I'm a universal donor. Take my blood. Maybe it won't work well as Jack's, but it's the only shot we have."

It worked and Tom recovered even more remarkably than he had the first time. In fact, nearly as remarkably as Eric had. In addition to profound relief at Jared's second miraculous recovery from serious combat injury in two days, Tom was mystified at Jared's even stronger response to this second transfusion. He wished he had some tissue scrapings from Jack, Alex and Jared, a microscope and some time to check some things out. He was beginning to have a nagging suspicion but in truth, there could be any among a number of things going on here. If they could just manage to get away from this place…

When Jared came to, the boys were all over him with hugs and tears of joy and relief. Tom helped Jared to his feet, embraced him tightly and them held him by the shoulders at arms length looking into his eyes with deep love and gratitude.

"Jared, what you did for Jack, I have no words…"

Jared chuckled and replied, "Well, Tom, I'm not going to stand here and tell you 'it was nothing.' Jesse Jackson and President Reagan were right. It hurts like hell to get shot!"

Jared was still less than 100% even though there was no visible evidence at all of his trauma. But the healing engine that Alex's blood had fired consumed nearly every ounce of Jared's fat, low to start with, and actually consumed some muscle mass as well. That fuel had to come from someplace. He badly needed nourishment to regain his strength. Tom took charge and ordered that they return to their primary safe area where they'd stashed most of their supplies. They did not want to spend an inordinate amount of time there for fear of attracting the enemy's attention to the place, but for now, it seemed the best place to go. They would make it easily by dark. Once there, they would all rest up, eat and gather their strength for the coming struggle for survival and escape.

Chapter 14
At Night

It was a sweltering, clear, quiet night in the island jungle. The little band of men and boys had found respite from the invaders' relentless pursuit. They were bivouacked in their safe area, situated on a wooded knoll commanding the surrounding approaches. Ten-year old Jack was standing the mid-watch, wide awake, vigilant, ready to alert his sleeping comrades at the first sign of an approaching enemy. A few meters away, Ricky, who, like the other boys, had stripped down for the night from his camouflage uniform and boots to his more comfortable and customary bikini briefs, crept alongside Jared, who was sleeping fitfully on the ground, half-concealed, under some jungle foliage. Jared lay on his left side in the fetal position, his knees tucked in, using his camouflage shirt and his left arm as a pillow. He wore loose fitting, camouflage jungle fatigue pants and a skintight, olive-drab under shirt. In the moon-lit semi-darkness, his naked right arm and shoulder muscles were gleaming under a light patina of sweat. Ricky's pounding heart was in his throat. He was hungry for this man… He had never been more aroused in his whole randy life! Ricky grasped Jared's right knee to roll him over on his back. One hand on either knee, he began to spread Jared's legs. He got no further before the man awoke, exploding into consciousness, his hands around the boy's throat. Jared immediately released him.

"Ricky! What are you doing?! NEVER creep up on me like that again while I'm sleeping! Understand?"

Chastened, Ricky looked into the man's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jared. I didn't mean to scare you."

"S'ok, kid. No real harm done. Now what did you need?"

Without hesitation Ricky replied simply, "You, Jared… I need you."

Momentarily, Jared 's heart skipped a beat. This could not POSSIBLY be happening! He'd just gotten 'clocked' and 'hit on' by this eleven year old superboy! Was he dreaming? No, he was wide awake now. This was real and Ricky had meant what he said. Have to hand it to the horny bugger… sure had one helluva lotta brass! Jared considered how best to nip this 'foolishness' in the bud.

"Son, tell ya what… I'm not going to tell Tom or the other boys anything about this. But if we ever manage to get back state-side, we're going to have to get you some help for this little problem. It's bad enough you want a man, not a girl. Even though it's none of your business, evidently you've got me pegged… I've got 'issues,' big time, in that department, myself. I don't know what's been going on with you guys on this island before I got here. None of my business. But whatever it was, if this is any indication, somebody needs to sit down with you and explain to you about the outside world. This place is more like prison. No girls so you just take what's available. Who knows, get you out in the real world with some girls and chances are, you might be straight. Besides, how DARE you come up on me like this while I'm sleeping? Jeez, Ricky, hasn't Tom taught you any better than that?"

No matter what Jared said, Ricky knew very well he and the other boys were gay. He'd thought about it and talked about it with the other boys and even Tom. No doubt about it, all of them; Eric, Alex, Jack and he were gay, not bi or straight.

Ricky knew very well that Jared wanted him as badly as he wanted Jared. They'd been having eye contact, off and on , all day… And his tree-top rescue of Jared… No, not 'his,' 'theirs!' Jared's coolness and quickness on the uptake had been critical to Ricky's success in that little enterprise… and the all too brief moment they'd shared when they were finally safe, hanging together from that tree-limb, high above the ground, after he'd rescued Jared… So much mutual admiration and love had passed, unspoken between them as they held each other… His whole life, Ricky had been surrounded by the men and boys he loved. Brought up in this environment of unabashed affection, and, yes, even uninhibited boy to boy sex… Ricky was so… cocksure he would make short work of Jared's inhibitions. He would share his beautiful, tanned, hard, muscle-boy body with Jared, giving himself without reservation to this man. He knew he could light the fires of Jared's passions. Hell, he didn't need to… Ricky could feel the heat coming at him from Jared, breaking over him in waves!

So, gently but firmly, he grasped Jared's knees and forced them open. Jared was strong… very strong. But he was powerless to resist the unbelievable strength in this young lad as he muscled the grown man down on his back, groping his groin with one hand and exploring Jared's lean, firm, tight muscles with the other. Then Ricky buried his face in Jared's crotch, searching and probing with his tongue through Jared's pants for the rigid shaft. He couldn't find it at first but then he did. Jared's cock was soft, with no hint at all of response to Ricky's insistent 'ministrations.' The muscular super-boy sucked and pulled with his lips at Jared through his trousers to absolutely no avail. Jared's desperate thrashing under Ricky's powerful body was equally futile. The muscle boy had pinned Jared securely and now was dry-humping him. Jared struggled mightily against the impossibly steel-hardened boy, his own muscles bulging and rippling at supreme exertion, but he could not break free. Jared might just as well have pitted his considerable man-strength against the inexorable force of some hydraulic-powered industrial machine tool! To an observer this role-reversed boy-man 'rape' would have seemed profoundly unsettling, surreal, perversely fascinating. Ricky was delirious with pent-up passion for this man that simply would not be denied. Keenly aware of his own intoxicating sexual irresistibility, Ricky was certain he could reach Jared… break through his hang-ups and rescue him from this obscene, wrong-headed denial of his own longing. He simply did not, could not, would not, hear Jared's desperate entreaties and then demands that he stop… or maybe he just didn't understand. Ricky told himself that Jared's thrashing, dogged but futile resistance was no more than the usual sex-play he shared with Eric or Alex or Jack all the time. Muscle straining against muscle was the essence of sexual adventure for Ricky and 'wrestling' with this big hard man-hunk had set his passions ablaze. Finally, the boy moaned and spasmed and jerked as he was seized by the acute intensity of his orgasm; his seething, hot, unyielding, chiseled muscles surging and rippling under warm, smooth supple boy-flesh.

His lustful fires quenched, Ricky gently shuddered and trembled, clutching Jared's body, hugging him tightly, lovingly as his burning passion gradually subsided.

When Ricky finally let him up, Jared was at a rolling boil of apoplexy. Never in his life had he been so thoroughly emasculated as by this eleven year old superboy who had simply over-powered and had his way with him. It had been little more than a teen-boy hump. But super-boy or no, Jared simply could not get over the fact that he'd just been 'balled' against his will by this eleven year old!

Hell of it was, hard as he'd struggled to pry himself loose from this over-sexed super-kid, the real battle had been with himself. It had taken every ounce of his will to restrain his own renegade desire for this beautiful muscle-boy. He was mortified at his own raging hunger for Ricky. He flagellated himself unmercifully with shame and self-loathing. He had never wanted to cry so badly in all his life. Ricky, for all his might, was still a boy with plenty of time to determine his true 'sexual identity;' something Jared wanted no part of… felt he had no right to be a part of. He felt passionately that any boy with a sliver of a chance at a 'normal' (straight) sex life deserved that chance. And it was the duty of any responsible adult to defend and preserve that opportunity at all costs. In Jared's world, his duty to protect this boy from his own mis-directed lust, as well from Jared's own lust, was absolute. There were no excuses for failure. And Jared's abject failure of his young friend was total. He simply would not embrace the 'rationalization' that he'd done his best and that no man alive had the physical strength to coral the rampaging libidos of any of these four young muscle studs.

The noise and commotion brought Tom and the other boys who, all but Jack, standing the midwatch, had been sleeping nearby.

Ricky had never been told flat 'no,' to boy-sex in his life, ('maybe later after such and such' or, 'now is not the time but later on, after so and so…' but never flat 'no.') When Jared had said 'no' Ricky simply could not believe this rejection was sincere though, to be sure, it wasn't for lack of a genuinely valiant effort on Jared's part. Ricky, raised in comparative isolation in this island paradise, where sexual permissiveness was the rule, simply could not believe that when Jared had said 'no' to him, 'no' was exactly what he meant: "No… Not now… Not later… Not EVER… Just NO!" Moral compunction against free sexual expression had never been part of the dream-world Tom and Dr. Vanderhaeghe had fashioned for these boys. To Ricky, Jared's rebuff, based as it clearly was on moral reticence, was inconceivable… inhuman… wrong…

But now Ricky was overwhelmed by the full realization of just what he had just done to his friend. Truly he had meant Jared no harm, only the joy and love of hot, sweaty man-boy-sex… and, just as surely, he understood now that his innocent intentions really didn't matter. Whatever his reasons, Jared had said 'no' and Ricky had failed to honor that. While intending precisely the opposite, he had hurt his big muscular man-friend and hurt him very badly… not physically, but much worse, in a more profound, humiliating way… More, much more than Eric had hurt Tom with that concussion so many years ago.

Ricky, moaning now in grief and remorse, cried out , "I love you Jared. I never meant to hurt you. Please, Jared. I only wanted to make love with you."

The super-boy was kneeling before Jared in supplication, beseeching him for forgiveness and understanding. Alex and Jack knelt alongside Ricky. The two boys joined their pleas with Ricky's. Given their young age, their empathy with man and boy was remarkable. They were genuinely concerned for Jared's feelings. Whatever other issues were percolating here, no adult male, especially one like Jared, a formidable ex-Navy Seal, could feel good about being bested by an eleven year old in a confrontation of pure physical strength. Of equal importance, for all their phenomenal strength, exceeding Jared's by an order of magnitude at the very least, they were prudently fearful that Jared's wounded ego could lead to deadly repercussions. They had lost no time joining Ricky in abasing themselves before this seething, dangerous man.

Eric stood next to Tom. He understood as well as Alex and Jack that Jared was unstable, on the verge of exploding. But, rather than propitiating him, Eric was determined to use his super-strength to keep the peace should Jared go off the deep end. He was not really concerned that Jared would try anything with him, Ricky, Alex or Jack. Anything less than lethal force would probably have been infeasible with any of them, even for Jared. Besides, Jared owed his life to them and he'd risked his life for them so he would probably not turn homicidal now, even for this. Tom, on the other hand, was another matter. If Jared decided to 'mix it up' with Tom, the two men could really fuck each other up. Tom was the bigger man by far; twelve and a half stone to Jared's nine and a quarter. But, for all Tom's advantage in size and strength, Jared was likely the better of the two in a street fight. "Hell," Eric thought grimly, "with his hand-to-hand combat skills, who knows? Jared might be a handful, even for me." He resolved that if Jared came to blows with Tom, he would interpose his body between them and permit no harm to come to either man. Eric was fairly sure, not withstanding Jared's fighting skill, that with his super-strength, he had what it took to make that stick. Somebody had to keep their head here tonight and try to redirect Jared's rage at their enemy.

Jared regarded the four boys, Ricky, Alex and Jack, kneeling before him in supplication and Eric standing next to Tom. His heart was raging with ice-cold fury. He was swimming in it, almost to the point of intoxication. Like an ascending high-performance aircraft, finally attaining altitude above a cloud layer, Jared had broken through to a rarefied stratum of heady, near self-destructive super-rage. With ominous calm, he dismissed the four youths, inviting them, softly, menacingly, to get out of his sight. Withered by Jared's icy glare, the boys, even Eric, complied and retreated; but hovered nearby at a discrete, respectful distance. Eric, more worried now that ever, turned to his three friends.

"Guys, I know this is hard but we gotta snap outta this now… right now. Jared's way beyond mad and maybe I don't blame him. But I'm really scared he's gonna go flaky on us. We gotta be ready in case he tries to hurt Tom or himself or whatever… Now pay attention and be ready to break it up."

Alex and Jack nodded gravely, but Ricky was still really out of it, his mind reeling from shame and self-reproach. Eric pressed into him, with his arm over Rick's shoulder.

"Ricky, I love you, 'little brother.' If there was any way I could take this off you I'd do it in a heartbeat. You've never done anything mean or cruel in your life. Tom knows that, so do we and, no matter what you've done, deep in his heart, so does Jared. You saved his life today and Jared's put his life on the line for all of us. But he's got some really weird stuff going off in his head right now. You gotta believe me man, we're gonna work our way through this and come out OK. You, me, Jack, Alex, Tom and even Jared. But Ricky, right now I need you. We gotta be ready to break this up if things go south. I know how bad you're hurting right now but your feelings have got to wait. I can't afford to have you zoning out on me, man. I may need your help with Jared if he goes and weirds out on us. Please, Ricky… We really need you… bad."

Ricky looked up, at Eric and nodded. He'd do anything Eric said. He always had.

And now… with the boys a safe distance away, the two of them left in semiprivacy, Jared turned his attention… to Tom…

"Tom… Tom…" he said mildly, his towering rage now smoldering like dry ice, "You realize, of course, none of this is Ricky's fault. You and Dr. Vanderhaeghe… I assume he's roasting in hell right now… You're responsible. You cultivated these little abominations like animal specimens in a petrii dish. Then you raised them in this hothouse island hell hole. It wasn't enough that you bred these hideous freaks… you SODOMIZED them!!! You programmed them with your degenerate pederastic perversions… Oh yeah, this was an island playground for you and the, ah… late… 'good doctor Van.,' All these years you two have been corn-holin' these cutsie muscle-punks. What the hell kind of man ARE you? Jesus, Mary and Joseph… If it took me bedding down with vulnerable, impressionable youngsters like these, taking advantage of them to get a nut… I'd cut my fuckin' balls off!"

Until today, Tom, had never felt so much as a moment's twinge of misgiving for how he'd raised these four lusty young super-lads. A passionate, lifelong atheist, he had always hated and rebelled against Bible-belt religiosity. His parents had been non-religious libertines… proto-flower children from the beatnik generation of the 50's and very early 60's. During his mid-teens, when he told them he was gay, there was not the slightest opprobrium. Only loving acceptance. (For some reason, Tom's folks had NOT assimilated the nihilism so common among 1950's beatniks.) In his turn as a 'parent,' Tom had proven he could raise 'his' boys in love and discipline but with none of the archaic 'thou-shalt nots' that rob human beings of their 'right' to the hedonistic pleasures of life. If that's what they felt like doing, it was nobody's business but theirs. But gay though he was, Tom had NEVER… FORCED these boys into sex. Physical force with any of the four was, to be sure, so out of the question as to be laughable. And the boys were by nature and upbringing, not withstanding their super-strength and raging lust, truly gentle souls. They had assimilated their values from Tom. They could not be cruel. And 'forcing' themselves on an unwilling victim would be so repugnant, so alien to any of them that they could not conceive doing that to another human being. 'No, (to sex) for now… maybe later' had always been honored among them with cheerful, amiable, non-threatened acceptance. After all, there was certainly plenty of time for all the sex they wanted and, to be sure, more to life than only that. The mercy and heroism they had shown to Jared during his capture and later, during his rescue high in the trees earlier that day, proved the boys' essential goodness to anyone who cared to delve into the facts. What in God's name had gone wrong here tonight? Why had Ricky, to whom Jared owed his life at least twice over, and vice versa, forced himself on this man? Had Tom overlooked something in the boys' upbringing? Here was more than a simple glitch. It went to the heart of his own, deeply held convictions. Tom had a moral horror of forced sex and was heartsick that Ricky's coltish miscue of Jared's intentions had caused such pain and hurt to both of them. He tried to make Jared understand that this was all a horrible mistake. That this wasn't what it seemed to Jared. It just COULDN'T be. Here was a boy, full of life, love, exuberance and even lust, but not a scintilla of the arrogance or wanton cruelty of… of a rapist. Ricky couldn't do that if his life depended on it. He just couldn't. He only wanted to show his love for Jared, to feel it, emotionally, spiritually and, horny young buck that he was, with physical, boy-to-man passion.

Now Jared, choking with rage, croaked, "I may not have a fancy university degree like you, Tom. But I sure as hell know the difference between unholy 'lust' and 'love.' Typical… that a deviant creep like you would get them mixed up. No wonder poor Ricky is so fucked in the head! Jared's emotional sluices were wide open now, tears of rage and anguish streaming down his livid cheeks. Tom, he said, trembling, barely in control of himself, somebody needs to peel off your hide in ribbons, you arrogant 'cradle-robbing' son of a bitch!"

Tom reflected bitterly, at least Jared's rage was directed at him now, not at Ricky. But he knew, beyond that minimal consolation, it was all but hopeless. The storm of anguish, raging in Jared's head, could not be stilled tonight, certainly not by him, badly as Tom wanted to stop the searing pain that was racking his new friend's soul… and breaking his beloved Ricky's heart in the bargain. He sighed,

"Jared, no way we're going to settle this now. I wish I could lift this burden off your shoulders and give you… and Ricky… some peace. You're right, though. This isn't about Ricky or even me. Ricky was wrong in what he did… Dead wrong… No excuse for it… But this thing with Ricky and what he did is not your problem… Not really… You can lie to yourself if you want to, Jared but you don't fool me. I know it's yourself you're really angry with and for what? If your precious moral convictions won't let you take this boy, and give yourself to him, for God's sake, don't put Ricky… or yourself through this! Ricky meant you no harm and you know it. You know all the boys are crazy about you. Hell, man, I think Ricky's fallen in love with you! Jared, please. I'm begging you. Just let this go… Think, man!!! You have NOT seduced this boy… Ricky was the one who loved you first. When we first found you, you were wounded and helpless, Ricky was the first to reach out to you with a boy's love: pure… UNCONDITIONAL love. That wasn't lust, Jared, it was just the simple love and compassion of a boy for a wounded, helpless stranger… with no assurance his love would ever be returned… And he didn't wait to see how we felt or what we wanted to do with you. He just came out and laid everything he had on the line for you, begging us to spare your life. Most kids Ricky's age are just trying with all their might to fit in with their peers… scared shitless what all the other kids think of them. But that's just not where Ricky or these other boys are at. Ricky loves the other boys and me with all his heart and soul. But he couldn't have cared less whether any of us though he was soft. He pleaded with us to have mercy on you. That was the most singular act of moral courage I've ever had the privilege to witness. With all his muscle and super-strength, sometimes it's hard for me to remember that Ricky's still so young. Maybe he is nothing but a 'fairy' to you, Jared, but even you have to hand it to him: Ricky's got a heart as big as a house and he's got the balls to wear it on his sleeve. Right now, he's got a lot more courage in that department than you do. For all your physical bravado, Jared, you're afraid to show your heart… to be vulnerable… to risk everything just for love of another human being. I don't think you have it in you to match Ricky's courage right now… not in this. But I really hope you find it someday. I think you owe it to yourself… and to Ricky."

Jared's head was reeling, his gut wrenched with warring emotions. His convictions and his heart collided like two colossal weather fronts and his mind was blown by the resulting storm of shame and desire. He wanted so badly to hold onto Ricky and just banish all this pain and anguish for ever. He could hate himself. Indeed since he first suspected he might be gay he'd despised himself. Finding out that you're fruit was bad enough, but, Jesus, making love with this kid!? How in God's name had he allowed himself to sink this low? But, for the life of him, he just couldn't muster the strength to hate Ricky… or Alex… or Jack… or Eric… or even, God help him, Tom! Lord knows he'd just given it one helluva go. Jared folded at the waist and, sobbing uncontrollably, crumpled to his knees, collapsing to one side in a mournful heap of abject despair. Through the years, the turbulence of inner conflict between Jared's homo-erotic appetites and his rigid straight-laced moral beliefs had made for a very rough ride indeed. He had always been of two incompatible minds, struggling in vain to reconcile the irreconcilable. And now, all of a sudden, this hauntingly beautiful 'chicken' had come home to roost in his heart. Jared cried out piteously to his God for mercy… for this moral capitulation. He no longer had the strength to sustain his outrage. He just couldn't hold onto it any more. Tom knelt at his side, tentatively placing his hand on Jared's shoulder. Jared didn't resist.

Eric and his three companions had slunk back within a few meters of Jared and Tom. They had been ready to interpose their bodies between the two men should the need arise. Now Eric motioned the boys to move in and, kneeling alongside Tom, he gently placed a comforting, muscled arm around his waist, leaning his head on Tom's shoulder. Ricky laid on the ground alongside Jared pressing in with his warm, steel-hard, beautifully muscled young body. Jared reached out to Ricky clutching him as tightly as a drowning man grasping a life ring. Locked in each others' arms they cried themselves to sleep. Tom, Eric and Alex returned to their own sleeping places and young Jack resumed his mid-watch. Except for rhythmic breathing of this sleeping little band, all was quiet once more.

Chapter 15
Escape Plans

Next morning, when Ricky awoke, he found Jared already on his feet beside him pulling on his camouflage shirt. Ricky had watched Jared closely since they'd first found him, wounded and helpless. He was the opposite of the boys who with their lifelong preference of bikini briefs were so body-proud, even in their preteens, so unlike other youngsters that age. Although he had a superb physique, Jared was very modest. He would rather swelter in that camouflage shirt than forsake it for the relative comfort of his sexy olive drab undershirt. Ricky was mildly disappointed, but not surprised.

Jared looked down at the boy, trying to act as though nothing had happened between them last night. "Mornin', kid. Sleep OK?"

"Yeah, Jared, sure, like a baby. About last night."

Jared's eyes glazed over. He didn't look at Ricky. He looked through him. "It was all my fault, not yours. It won't happen again."

Ricky was on his feet now, too. "No, Jared. No way it was your fault… It was nobody's fault but mine. I am so… sorry…" His voice was quavering now. "I was so sure I knew what you wanted, what you needed. It was so wrong to force myself on you just because I thought it was for your own good. I won't lie to you, Jared. I love you. I can't change how I feel, but I promise I'll never do that again."

Jared was no good at all at this. He replied tightly, "OK, Ricky. There's no reason for any of this to come up ever again. Now get your camis and boots on and go and round everybody up. I have a plan."

With everybody seated on the ground in front of him Jared launched into his 'staff briefing.' It was fairly straightforward. There would be a takedown at the airstrip involving stealth, surprise, and violence. They would wait until that last surviving forger was on the ground, take out the guards and disable the jet. Then they would board the big Antonov transport and fly it away to safety. It would have to be a night action, of course. The sheer audacity of the plan, together with the boys' extraordinary physical abilities gave them, if not a good chance, at least something minimally better than no chance. Unless they did something bold and simple like this, it would only be a matter of time…

Part of the plan involved Tom's notebook PC and his sky-sat cell phone. (These had been among the 'loot' that Alex had retrieved from the house and dumped into his tent bag along with the rope for Tom's tree harness, just as Elias Wright's mercenaries including Jared were landing at Ponce de Leon airstrip aboard the huge Antonov transport jet.) They would use the notebook PC-sat cell phone lashup to transmit an encrypted e-mail, signed by Tom, addressed to Antonics corporate headquarters in Sunnyvale, California, requesting that a company jet be dispatched to the airfield at the huge former US Naval Air Station, Cubi Point at Subic Bay in the Philippines. This transmission would be intercepted by Wright and his goons, but they would never get it decrypted in time. The signal would probably be triangulated, but by then, they would be long gone. Jared intended to use Eric and Alex to move to the transmission point and send the message. As fast as they could move, it was unlikely they would get caught. Once the message to Antonics was sent, they would sprint directly to a second transmission point.

From there, another encrypted message would be transmitted, this one far longer than the first. This message was just lengthy random text with no intended addressee. It would be addressed to Dr. Vanderheghe's electronic mail box. The intent was to broadcast this sustained signal as a diversion. With Wright and his henchmen focused here, hopefully, this would take some of the pressure off Jared and his friends as they hit the airfield. After several minutes, Wright's mercenaries might figure out what was happening, but, hopefully, a few minutes would be all they needed. The second transmission would be set to a four hour delay; plenty of time for Eric and Alex to get away, rendezvous with their friends and set up for the takedown on the airfield.

Tom asked Jared whether he felt he could actually manage the big jet. He was, after all, a special operations fighter, not a professional aviator. Jared assured Tom and the boys that the takeoff might be kind of 'ugly' and not completely by the book, but he was fairly sure he could get them into the air and safely away. He'd need some help in the cockpit though, and the boys immediately volunteered Alex. He'd know what to do. Jared might have expected Tom to sit alongside in the right seat, but he had come to learn that if these boys said they could do something, he could probably take it to the bank. His copilot would be Alex. He decided it would be Jack who would sit in the center seat and manage the power settings as flight engineer. Tom, Eric and Ricky would be responsible to close and secure all the crew access doors on the main deck before joining them above on the flight deck.

Timing and luck would be critical. It was a risk leaving Tom's PC and sat-cell phone in a remote location with that delayed broadcast setting. If things went wrong down at the airfield, they wouldn't get a second chance to pull this scheme off and there'd no longer be any way to communicate with the outside world.

Eric and Alex made their first transmission without a hitch. They broke down and prepared to shove off on the second leg of their mission, moving swiftly, with grace and agility through the dense jungle to an isolated beach on the western end of the island. If they got lucky, Jared thought, maybe Wright would surmise the sustained sat-tel broadcast was a jury-rigged homing signal for rescuers arriving by zodiac boat to take them off by sea.

When they arrived at west beach, they set up, logged on and downloaded the reply from corporate home office. Good news! The company jet would be standing by at the Cubi Point airfield. The message was signed personally by Nathan Wexler, Chief Operating Officer, Chief Financial Officer and Dr. Vanderhaeghe's second in command at Antonics. Wexler was a graduate of the Chicago School of Economics who had turned his back on the 'free trade rubrics' of Adam Smith and Alan Greenspan. He served his 'apprenticeship' on 'the street' (Wall Street), where the order of the day was asset-stripping, for fun and profit, gutting the industrial base of the nation, by legalized, systematic looting, turning workers and their families out onto the street in droves. All of this was done in the name of 'down sizing', 'efficiencies', 'competitiveness' and running 'lean and mean'. But in his heart, Wexler didn't like 'mean'. His soul was dying.

Dr. Vanderhaeghe had rescued Wexler, affording him the opportunity to ply his skills in service of a truly noble cause. Wexler was a 'certified financial analyst', serving in the most sophisticated bio-engineering research and development organization on earth. The company's advances in biology and medical technology were among some of the most significant in the field, ever. Countless lives had been saved because of this work. Until he'd met Dr. Vanderhaeghe, Wexler had feared he would be obliged to choose between his vocation and his soul. Now, thanks to Dr. Vanderhaeghe, he was spared this awful choice. Wexler brought to his stewardship of the company's financial health and strength the same passion and single-minded devotion that Tom had brought to his care for the boys. He was a devout Jew and family man who prayed, literally, hundreds of times a day. If asked about this, he would have answered "What kind of man cannot find at LEAST one hundred reasons to thank his creator during the span of an entire day?" Every day, Wexler's first and last prayer was one of thanksgiving for having been blessed and privileged to know and to serve Dr. Vanderhaeghe.

He had been in the building when Elias Wright's bomb was discovered at corporate headquarters and had been well briefed by Dr. Vanderhaeghe before he'd left Sunnyvale on his ill-fated mission to rejoin Tom and the boys. When contact was lost with Dr. Vanderhaeghe's aircraft and with Tom and the four boys trapped on Ponce de Leon, Wexler had feared the worst. There would not be time enough to assemble a fighting force to relieve Tom and his charges. By the time an effective force could get there, it would all be over. And Antonic's resources, vast as they were, could not hope to compete with those of a sovereign government, even one as financially destitute as the government of Mulvia-Everinia. When he had received the e-mail signed by Tom, Wexler dared hope for a miracle. He would meet Tom at the Cubi Point airfield, personally. In accordance with Dr. Vanderhaeghe's final instructions before his departure, he would place the resources of Antonics at Tom's disposal. Wexler, as passionately loyal to Vanderhaeghe as Tom, honoring the dying request of his friend, now transferred his loyalties to Tom Henderson, Vanderhaeghe's designated successor as Chief Executive Officer and now the supreme moral voice of Antonics.

But first, Tom and the boys had to get off Ponce de Leon alive. That was up to Tom, the boys and, according to Tom's emergency e-mail, a 'mercenary' who had defected from Elias Wright's gang of pirates. Wexler's responsibility was to be in position at Cubi Point with that corporate jet.

Eric and Alex rejoined Tom, Jared and the other two boys at the edge of the jungle on 'Mount Arnold', overlooking the compound. This was where they had been when that first forger jet had come calling. It was sundown now. They would lie low here in the tall grass until midnight then move onto the airfield to do their takedown and make good their escape.

The time went by painfully slowly. They were worried that enemy patrols might sweep past or that their enemy would get a sniff of them with an infra red sensor or night vision goggles. As luck would have it, none of this happened. As they prepared to move out, Jared repeated instructions to the group, reviewing specific assignments with each individual. He repeated his warning that it was unlikely everyone would make it out alive. One of the main objectives of this operation, however, was to ensure that none of the boys, dead or alive, or even parts of their bodies should fall into the hands or Wright and his fellow cut throats. If the genetic technology from Project Hercules fell into their hands, the consequences for mankind would be disastrous.

Tom had been just fine up to this point, but now he was terrified for the boys. It was, he realized the most awful moment of his life. If he lost his own life, that he could handle, but he did not believe he could handle the loss of any of his boys. His eyes filled with tears which he made no effort to control. He gave himself freely to his anguish. There was no way he could hide the gravity of the situation from the boys and, given that, he wouldn't have if he could. It was imperative that they DO understand and remember Jared's instructions. Tom gathered the boys close to him, embracing each of them in turn, speaking tender endearments to them one at a time and finally as a group. As Tom began, Jared started to move away. He felt it was appropriate to leave these people some time to themselves before it was time to move out, but Ricky broke free from the group and trotted over to Jared. "No man You can't go off by yourself now. Like it or not, you're one of us now. You're a part of this and you belong with us." Jared was not normally comfortable with public displays of affection, but he allowed himself to be lead by Ricky back to rejoin the group. He hugged each of the boys in turn and even, Lord help him, Tom!

He could not hide the fact that these people who had been strangers only a few days before had burrowed their way to a place deep in his heart where, until now, only Augie had managed to find a place. There was not the physical passion as there had been with Augie, but a deep, loving bond had been forged among these people. Jared found himself wanting desperately to introduce these people to Augie and his family. He had come to think of the Rodrigues as his own flesh and blood. Notwithstanding his dire prediction of inevitable casualties, he would bring every one of these people safely home to meet them or he would give his life in the attempt.

Chapter 16
Takeoff

They set out just after midnight. As they moved onto the airfield, their first objective was the forger jet. Several access panels had been removed to accommodate field maintenance. This was an unexpected break but it would still be necessary to further disable the jet. Jared guessed in its present state of disassembly, it would take about an hour to get the forger back into the air. By itself, that was not a good enough margin of safety but it was a start.

Surprisingly, the discipline among the guards was extremely lax. Jared took out each of the men guarding the forger silently with a single slash across throat with his serrated combat knife. He motioned Eric up to the aircraft and ordered him to pull out wires, couplings, and whatever else he could to do maximum damage, as long as he worked quietly. Eric tore through wires, servomechanisms and aluminum as easily as a child would tear though toilet tissue. No ordinary man could possibly do as much damage so quickly. Jared moved alongside to inspect the results. This was just fine. They were all set. As an added measure, Jared reached into the starboard engine inlet and concealed a small bolt behind one of the turbine rotors near the front of the engine. "Can't be too careful," he explained to Eric as he winked.

And then they were off, trotting along the edge of the runway toward the big Antonov. Tom and the other boys were waiting for them about half way to their objective.

As they approached the aircraft in the dark, it was clear the guards here were even less vigilant than the men posted around the forger. It had never occurred to Wright or his mercs that their prey would have the audacity to waltz onto the airstrip and try to make off with this huge airplane.

This struck Jared as vaguely funny as he wryly recalled Gen. George Patton's reprise of Napolean's maxim: L'audace! L'audace! Tout jours, l'audace!

Like the US Air Force C-5 which it so closely resembled, the AN-124 had very special features which enhanced cargo handling. The huge 'visor' nose was hinged at the top to the fuselage just beneath and aft of the cockpit. The nose could be raised up and out of the way, giving load masters unimpeded access through the front to the cavernous interior. The aircraft was fitted with a giant self-contained folding nose ramp. Under the tail was another giant loading ramp which lowered to give the same wide open access aft. In addition, the big Antonov could 'kneel,' lowering itself on its undercarriage. In this configuration, the big jet resembled a giant tunnel with wings.

As Jared and his friends approached their objective, he noted with disappointment that the aircraft was in cargo loading configuration, visor nose full up, nose ramp extended, tail ramp down, the aircraft kneeling on its undercarriage. This was NOT so good. No telling how long it would take to get this bird ready to go. Fifteen, twenty minutes, maybe? There would be regular radio checks between the guards and the main command post. Jared would have to get close enough to listen in on their comm check procedure, hoping he could match it well enough next time around to keep from attracting the curiosity of the command post.

As it turned out, it was a simple comm-status check with no rotating password or any other special consideration for security. There were five guards. Jared dealt with four of them easily enough. But, the fifth was not a clean kill at the first knife blow. The guard had tried to alert his companions as he went down but by this time he was all alone. There was no one close enough to hear his scream. Jared ordered everyone aboard the aircraft, posting Tom, Eric and Ricky on the main deck, their weapons ready, until he could get the big nose down and locked and the ramp tail closed. He, Alex and Jack clambered up the ladder to the flight deck.

The 'front office' of the AN-124 is easily one of the most complex in all of aviation and Jared was no flying professional. But, like Alex, he was an aviation buff. With his private flying experience and his military pinch hitter training, he had some idea what to do. He had actually received some cockpit familiarization in several transport aircraft, both fixed and rotary wing, of both US and foreign manufacture; including the US Air Force C-5. There was a strong family resemblance here. He would need power in the cockpit to close the nose and tail and run through his pre-engine start checklist. He lit off the internal auxiliary power unit (APU), a small gas turbine engine, nestled in the tail cone, used to run the generators providing electric power until the main engines were running. The APU was quite small but very powerful and Jared was afraid the noise might attract unwelcome attention, but he had no choice. He brought the APU on line and the instrument panel lights flickered on. He ordered Jack to call down to the main deck that nose and tail were coming closed and that Tom, Eric and Ricky should stand clear. Jared would have preferred using head phones through the internal communication system, but he didn't want to take the time to search for headsets and get everyone used to using them. For now, Jack would have to do as his messenger to the main deck. Once the instrument panel indicated the doors were closed and locked, Jared set to work on the undercarriage. He found the control selector easily enough and moved it to 'full extend.' The huge bird slowly came up off its 'knees.'

Jared ordered Jack to return to the main deck for visual verification that the nose and tail were closed and appeared securely locked. Also, all the access doors on either side needed to be secured and he wanted to make sure there was no heavy cargo or anything else sitting loose on the main deck. He cursed himself for not thinking of this before he had closed the nose and tail, but maybe he'd be lucky and there wouldn't be anything to worry about. When Jack returned to the flight deck. It was all good news, all doors secure and no loose cargo on the main deck except a couple of loose tie-down chains and those were now secure. During the interval, Jared had led Alex through a quick cockpit familiarization. Actually, they were learning the layout together. Notwithstanding his 'fam-time' in the C5, Jared had never before in his life actually sat in the AN-124 cockpit. They would have to 'wing it.' They were as ready as they'd ever be. Jared ordered Jack down to the main deck one more time to call Tom Eric and Ricky up to the flight deck.

Less than a minute later, Jared and Alex were joined by Jack, Ricky, Eric and Tom. Jared ordered Jack into the center seat, between pilot and copilot, directly behind the throttle quadrant and began to staccato a torrent of instructions.

"Keep your eyes on the power gages and your hands on the throttles. I'll have the computer engaged, so all you should have to do is follow through. But if the needles drift off my power calls, override and keep the needles on my numbers. If Alex or I reach for the throttles, take your hands off, get outta the way and stand by to move back in when we tell you. Questions?"

"No?

"OK. Rest of you guys find a seat and strap in. We're outta here like a pack of tall dogs!"

As he had done his takedown, he had snatched the walkie-talkie from one of the guards. It crackled to life with a radio check.

"Loud and clear, how me?" Jared responded.

The walkie talkie crackled, "I read you same, out…"

As Jared and his friends had hidden in the tall grass, beyond the edge of the runway, he had listened to the radio check. He observed that these came at about ten minute intervals. The radio man with these guards had referred to himself as 'post five.'

"Roger. Post five out."

The command post seemed to be satisfied. Jared and Alex went back to work

Jared and Alex stumbled as best they could through the laminated pre-takeoff cockpit checklist. It was in Russian. By hook and crook, they made it. Both had a fairly good sense of the cockpit. Alex because of hours prowling the web and pouring over books Dr. Vanderhaeghe brought him, as well as his 'hot-seat' time in Antonics corporate jets; Jared because of his private flying experience and his pinch hitter cockpit training in the military. Jared was impressed and delighted with Alex's instincts in the cockpit. He spoke in frank admiration:

"Alex, you're a natural, boy! I think I've discovered a fine future aviator here."

Like the other boys, over the past couple days, Alex had come to worship Jared as a hero and as their savior. He beamed with pleasure at this unbridled praise.

One by one, they got the engines on-line and spooled up to idle. Now they were ready to go. Jared ordered Alex to keep a sharp lookout to starboard for obstructions or enemy mercs who might try to take potshots at them as they taxied into position on the runway. Jared advanced the throttles to overcome massive stationary inertia. The aircraft didn't move. Brakes were off… What in the hell was wrong now?

Jeeeezzzz!!! The wheel chocks!

Jared couldn't BELIEVE he'd been so stupid!

He could advance the throttles and over run the chocks, and who knew, maybe blow a tire? foul the undercarriage? He preferred not to take that chance. He needed someone to circle the aircraft and yank the chocks. He was furious with himself that his idiotic oversight might queer this whole escape.

He set the brake, told Alex and Jack to stay in their seats.

As he dove through the hatch, he snagged his AK-74 and called over his shoulder, Tom, Eric, Ricky, grab your weapons and come with me…

When they got to the main deck, Jared found a position just forward of the wheel sponsons, which protruded slightly inside the expansive interior where there were two exit doors directly opposite one another. He posted Tom and Eric to starboard with Ricky and himself at the port door. On Jared's signal, both doors would be swung open. Jared and Tom would cover with their weapons as the boys leapt out onto the tarmac and pulled chocks from the main mounts and then scrambled forward to the twin side-by-side steerable nose wheels to pull the chocks from there. With the roar from the idling engines, it would be almost impossible to communicate effectively with one other once the doors came open, so they just had to hope this went off OK.

Everything went without a hitch on Eric's side. He pulled the chock from the starboard main mount, sprinted forward and pulled the starboard nose wheel chock and was back on board in less than thirty seconds.

Ricky was not so lucky. He pulled the port main mount chock OK and managed to run forward and yank the port nose wheel chock as well. But about halfway back to the port access door, some shots came from the tall grass at the edge of the runway and Rick was hit. Jared sprayed the area where the muzzle flashes had come from and the enemy shooting stopped. He screamed in anguish, "Riiiickyyyy!!!"

Without hesitation, Jared was out the door, landing on the parking apron at a dead run. He found Ricky sprawled in a heap his head 'haloed' by a growing pool of blood. Jared scooped up the wounded boy and dashed back to the port door. By this time, Eric and Tom had emerged from the port aircraft crew door and were 'spraying' their weapons into the tall grass with suppressing fire. Firing from the enemy was sporadic, but they managed to nick Jared with two grazing shots. He didn't even feel them, he was in such an adrenaline rush. He dove through the door and landed on the main deck with Ricky in his arms. Eric and Tom climbed aboard in turn and continued firing their weapons through the open door.

Jared turned to Eric. "Keep shooting until we start moving. Then close her up. Make sure you dog the hatch secure. Recheck the starboard door, too."

"Tom, Ricky's in your hands. Please, God, let him be OK."

There was no more time for emotion or to delve into Ricky's condition. He had to get them out of there fast.

Back on the flight deck, he clambered into his seat and ordered Jack to advance the throttles. The huge jumbo jet lumbered forward. Then Jared tapped the toe brakes to test response. They grabbed. "All systems good to go."

As the big Antonov waddled into takeoff position at the northwest end of the runway, there was sporadic small arms from the edge of the airstrip but it was ineffective. Jared brought the jet to a full stop, ordered Jack to advance throttles to full takeoff power and Alex to extend flaps to 50 percent, leading edge slats 100 percent. Once the engines had spooled up to take off rpm, Jared released the brakes and they began to roll, slowly at first but soon with acceleration gently pushing them back in their seats. Alex called off air speed. "V-1… V-2… rotate."

Jared pulled back on the yoke and the nose came off the tarmac, followed seconds later by the main mounts. They were airborne, roaring over the compound beyond the southeast end of the runway. They saw muzzle flashes from the ground but they did no harm. Within seconds they were over the sea.

Chapter 17
The Flight

Jared opted to remain at low altitude. He had not thought the invading force had come equipped with shoulder launched stinger or strella heat seeking missiles, but he could not be sure. He had not been briefed on everything they had in their arsenal. He had not known, for instance, about the three forger jets until arriving on Ponce de Leon island.

They were lucky and as Ponce de Leon receded in the distance, Jared retracted the undercarriage, leading edge slats and flaps, eased the nose into a climb, programmed the auto pilot to ascend and maintain flight level two-one-zero (approximately 21,000 feet above mean sea level) and set the altimeter to 29.92 inches of mercury, the standard altimeter setting around the world for highaltitude aviation (aircraft flying at or above 18,000 feet MSL). As a former Warsaw Pact aircraft, where 'metric' was the standard, and as an aircraft that flew all over the world, the AN-124 cockpit gages were graduated both to English and metric standards, airspeed in both knots and kilometers and altitude both in feet and meters. For this flight, Jared directed his fellow crewmen, Alex and Jack, always to refer to the English graduations, not the metric.

Now that the aircraft had been established in a steady climb on an easterly heading for the Philippines, Jared turned to Alex. "Take over copilot. Jack, I want you in the left seat till I get back. Do whatever Alex tells you."

"Yes sir," was Jack's enthusiastic response.

"Boys I'm gonna go below and check on status down there."

Neither of them knew about Ricky getting hit and until Jared knew more, there was no point in their sharing his anguish. He wanted all their attention focused in the cockpit. Hell, this whole thing was crazy in the first place. Jared was not a professional aviator himself and now he was leaving one of the largest aircraft in the world in the hands of a couple of kids! He knew he belonged in the cockpit, but things were under control on the flight deck and he could not ignore the call of his heart a minute longer. He sauntered out of the cockpit trying to appear to Alex and Jack as nonchalant as he could. As soon as he was out the door, he dove for the ladder and slid on the hand rails down to the main deck.

Ricky was seated cross legged on deck with Tom and Eric kneeling alongside, just finishing their mending of the wound: nine stitches! The enemy bullet had grazed the scalp. That accounted for all the blood on the ground! But he was going to be OK. When Ricky saw Jared sliding down the ladder hand rails toward him, he flashed a heart-stopping grin that melted the man's heart. When Jared landed on the main deck he was on Ricky like a duck on a June bug, hugging him with joy and relief. Ricky was still a little woozy, but he was relieved as well. More important for him, getting hit had almost been worth it if it would get Jared to show him this much attention and affection. Except for that 'group hug' on Mount Arnold just before starting this escape operation, Jared had not touched Ricky since they had slept in each others arms last night after the horrible blowup when he had tried to entice this man into making love to him. Jared was fairly undemonstrative anyway and after last night, he had seemed super paranoid, not to mention they had been fighting for their lives, having little opportunity for anything else! Ricky reveled in Jared's uninhibited embrace. He knew well enough to savor this moment now. This would not happen every day.

Ricky decided to push just a little. "Jared, I love you."

For once, the man didn't freeze up and go all geeky on him. He gave the boy another squeeze and held him by the shoulders at arms length.

"Ricky, honest to God. I love you, too. I'll never, ever do anything to hurt you. You know that, don't you, kid?"

"Sure, Jared. You bet I do. I owe you my life!"

"And I owe you mine, Ricky, and I'll never forget it."

Jared turned to Eric. "Good work out there, son. It was real brave of the two of you to scamper out there and pull the chocks."

"Aw, Jared, it was nothin'. Wish it had been me, not Ricky, on the port nose wheel."

"Luck of the draw, Kid. Maybe next time."

Then he turned to Tom. "Once you get Ricky all cleaned up, y'all come on up topside." I need you to get on the horn with your company and verify that their jet will be on the ground by the time we arrive. If not, I want to stand well off Cubi Point and loiter till they get there. Once we get word your jet is on the ground, we'll shoot a straight in approach into Cubi, taxi alongside the company jet and make good our personnel transfer."

Then Jared mounted the stairs and returned to the flight deck, resuming his position in the command pilot seat. Alex and Jack had established the aircraft straight and level at flight level two-one-zero on an easterly heading for Cubi Point.

"Shit hot, you two! I know a couple of hot stick 'airdales' when I see 'em."

Now it was Jack's turn to join Alex reveling in their hero's high praise. The two of them flashed a pair of wide mouth all-boy grins that made for a serious case of sensory overload! At that moment, for the first time in his life, Jared felt a stab of pain that he would never have sons of his own. His moment below with Ricky and now this: He had to look away as his eyes welled. Very soon now, Tom and these boys would be swept out his life as suddenly as they'd come into it, probably for ever as he and they went their separate ways.

But now he still had work to do and so did Tom. Tom, Ricky and Eric entered the cockpit. Eric tired to 'mother hen' Ricky into a seat but he wasn't having any of it.

"I'm OK now, Eric. Honest. Stop treating me like a baby."

Making no effort to hide his relief, Eric grinned at Tom, "I think Rick's just about his old self again."

Jared had rigged headsets for Alex, Jack and himself and tuned to the radio frequency of the Manila oceanic flight information region (FIR). He turned to Tom and told him to rummage through the cockpit to locate another headset. When Tom found it, Jared directed him to take a seat and plug in. Then he keyed the internal communication systems (ICS).

"Tom, you hear this OK?"

"Sure, Jared. I hear you just fine."

"OK, Tom. Here's the deal. I'm going to report in to Manila FIR in about half an hour. Wexler's encrypted reply to our sat-cell signal back on Ponce de Leon gave a recognition call sign we're to pass along to the FIR controllers. They're supposed to be ready to rig a semi-secure patch straight through to Wexler. Once I get him on the horn, you two can make whatever arrangements you need to. Two things I want you to remember: Don't discuss anything over this comm link about the ultimate destination of your corporate jet, but make damn sure Wexler understands we need confirmation that his jet is on the ground, parked and secured before we arrive at our initial approach fix into Cubi."

"OK, Jared. I got it. No talk about where we're headed out of Cubi and the company jet is on the ground before we start our approach."

"That's it, Tom. The rest is up to y'all. One more thing. Keep your comms to a minimum. No unnecessary chit chat. Anything that can wait until you're in the air on your company jet, hold off till then."

Tom put his left hand on Jared's right shoulder and gave him a silent quick 'double-squeeze.' In aviation, a quick 'double-click 'on the radio mike button signifies acknowledgment in the affirmative. A lot of understanding passed between these two men with Tom's brief gesture.

Jared raised Manila FIR on the radio and received the patch through to Wexler without difficulty. Tom and Wexler communicated effectively but not effusively. They handled their business, signed off and the connection was terminated. There would be time enough for more words later. The corporate jet was less than thirty minutes from landing at Cubi. The company had arranged for an armed guard of the Philippine constabulary. No one would be allowed near the parked aircraft.

About forty-five minutes later, Jared received confirmation from Manila FIR that the jet was parked and secured. He was instructed to switch to the Cubi radar approach control frequency. Upon reporting in to Cubi radar approach control, he was cleared direct to the initial approach fix. Jared adjusted his course slightly to the north and waited for the aircraft to steady up. Then he turned to Alex and Jack.

"How would you boys like to bring 'er in?"

Alex couldn't believe his ears and to be sure, neither could Tom. But Jared cut Tom short.

"Look. This kid knows as much about flying this aircraft as I do. Hell, we're all greenhorns in this thing. But these two lads deserve the honor of bringin' this baby home as well as anybody. I'll be right here. Just remember, Alex FEATHER touch on the controls. This is a game of 'finesse,' not strength. Do NOT 'ham fist' this aircraft!"

Alex was overwhelmed. He couldn't speak. Hot tears of joy ran down his livid cheeks. This was, precisely, the happiest moment of his life. Slowly, solemnly, with as much dignity as he could muster, he eased out of the right seat and into the command pilot seat that Jared had vacated for him. Alex was grateful for Jared's insistence back on Ponce de Leon that they wear the camouflage uniforms and boots. This would have looked a little 'geeky' were he barefoot and clad in nothing more than his bikini briefs. Jack eased into the copilot's seat and Jared assumed Jack's position as flight-engineer/throttle jock. Jared did the pre-landing brief.

"OK guys, this will be a standard instrument arrival into Cubi Point with ground control precision radar assisted approach to touchdown and full stop. As soon as we're cleared we'll begin our initial descent from flight level two-one-zero to initial approach fix altitude of one-six-thousand feet. Aircraft is on direct course to initial approach fix. Expect clearance to initiate en-route descent in about ten minutes."

"Alex, you're command pilot. As long as everything goes smoothly, you're in charge and you're responsible. Jack, you're number two. I'm wearing two hats. I'm flight engineer and flight instructor. If Command or copilot goes for the throttles, I'm hands off till one of you gives me the word to take them back. But if things go haywire, I have the option to go for whichever seat I choose, pilot or copilot, and you two agree right now there's no question, no discussion. Whose ever seat I want, left or right, you're out and its mine. Guy I relieve takes the flight engineer's seat. Understood?"

Both boys, accustomed all their lives to Tom's strict but loving discipline answered with sharp, parade-ground precision, "Yes sir!"

"And one more thing, aircrew, normally Command-Pilot or 'Co-' handles the comms. But this evening it'll be me."

Alex spoke for both boys, out of deference for Jared's service background, using navy parlance this time, "Aye Aye Sir!"

When Jared had first reported in, Manila FIR had assigned the aircraft the call sign "Maytag One Two Four." They retained this designation with Cubi approach control. They were receiving initial instructions now.

"Maytag One Two Four, cleared en-route descent to initial approach altitude, maintain current heading direct initial approach fix. Squawk three-zero-zero zero. Report arrival, over."

Alex ordered Jack to select code "3000" on the transponder control panel. Jack punched in the numbers and moved the selector dial from 'standby' to 'on.'

Jared responded, "Cubi approach, Maytag One Two Four wilco, what is your altimeter setting, over."

"Maytag One Two Four, roger, radar contact, altimeter setting currently two niner six niner."

"Roger Cubi approach, adjusting altimeter to two niner six niner."

Ten minutes later, Jared keyed his mike again. "Cubi approach, Maytag One Two Four, initial approach fix, level at one-six-thousand feet."

"Roger Maytag, Cubi Approach, come right to course one three five, final approach heading, descend and maintain one-zero-thousand feet report when fifteen miles out."

"Cubi approach, Maytag One Two Four, leavening one-six-thousand for one-zerothousand, turning to heading one three five, magnetic."

Jared directed Alex to commence his pre-landing checklist. For half a beat, Alex hesitated. Once again he was overcome with emotion. He had been through this part once before as he observed this very aircraft making its final approach into Ponce de Leon airfield. As he had watched while dashing across the lawn from the house with his tent bag full of loot, Alex had never dreamed that, within days, he would be landing this very aircraft, their 'one-way ticket to freedom' as command pilot here at Cubi Point. He regained control of himself and, together with Jack, under Jared's watchful eye, executed a pre-landing check which would have done credit to any experienced aviator. Jared luxuriated in the cool 'professionalism' of these two boys. On the surface, he was cool, but inside, he was every bit as excited as they were. Ricky and Eric had been standing behind Jack and Alex, flanking Jared in the flight engineer's seat between and slightly aft of the pilot and copilot. The two boys steadied themselves Ricky with one hand on the back of Alex's seat and Eric one hand on the back of Jack's, both of them with their other hand on Jared's shoulders.

Tom was watching all this from his seat at the rear of the large cockpit. He was a little taken aback at the bonding that was going on between Jared and the boys. He thought to himself that he ought to be jealous but he wasn't. Not one little bit. Here was Jared giving them something that Tom simply couldn't. Of course, Jared could never take Tom's place in their lives. But he was obviously carving a niche of his own. Or maybe, Tom thought in a flash of inspiration… maybe Jared HAS taken my place and maybe I've taken Doc Vanderhaeghe's. It would be interesting to see how this played out. A lot would depend on Jared, of course. Right now, Tom felt a very odd sort of bonding of his own with Jared. All very innocent and Platonic, of course, because it was about the boys, not the two of them, per se. He found himself half wondering how Jared would feel about that.

Jared spoke again. "Cubi approach, Maytag One Two Four, fifteen miles, altitude one-zero thousand, heading one three five."

"Roger Maytag One Two Four, this will be a precision radar approach, contact final controller frequency one two six decimal three five."

"Cubi approach, Maytag One Two Four, changing to frequency one two six decimal three five. Real good service. So long."

Alex turned to Jared. "Boss, I got visual on the runway lights and approach threshold directional strobes, dead ahead. Our lineup is good."

"OK, Cap, good work. Steady as you go."

"Cubi precision approach, Maytag One Two Four…"

"Maytag heavy, Cubi precision approach, this is your final controller. How copy over?"

"Cubi, Maytag heavy, loud and clear, wheels down and locked, airfield in sight."

"Maytag heavy, no further reply requested or desired. There will be a thirty second comm interruption for your questions or emergency commencing one mile from touchdown."

"Maytag heavy now on course, on glide slope, five miles from touchdown."

"Maytag heavy, three miles from touchdown, slightly low, slightly left, correcting."

"Maytag heavy, one mile from touchdown, on course, on glide slope, commencing thirty second comm break now."

"Maytag heavy over runway threshold, cleared to land. Contact Cubi tower one two three decimal six, good evening sir."

"Roger Cubi precision approach, switching. Real fine service."

"Cubi tower, Maytag heavy on deck."

"Roger Maytag heavy, there is a 'follow-me' truck standing by at taxi-way 'echo.' Continue landing roll-out to last runway exit right."

"Roger, Cubi tower and roger the 'follow-me.' We have him visual."

"Maytag heavy, contact Cubi ground control when you've cleared the duty runway."

"Wilco Cubi tower. So long."

Alex steered the giant Antonov through the maze of taxi-ways behind the 'followme' guide truck and parked alongside the waiting Antonics corporate jet. He could see Wexler pacing the tarmac impatiently by the biz-jet air stair. He pointed Wexler out to Jared.

Jared shut down the four Lotarev turbofans. The silence that followed was palpable. They had made it!

Chapter 18
Back in California

Tom exhaled a sigh of relief. It was the first time he'd felt truly relaxed since receiving the e-mail from Dr. Vanderhaeghe the morning of Wright's assault on the island, so long ago it seemed now. Somehow, this little band of men and boys had pulled each other through alive. Confirmed atheist though he was, he allowed himself the brief luxury of thanking the God of his distant forebears, this God he had never known or acknowledged, for their deliverance and, especially for the providence that had steered Jared, this strange warrior, into their lives.

Alex and Jack were unbuckling. Jared was already on his feet, manfully 'enduring' the relieved, affectionate hugs of Eric and Ricky. Then Alex and Jack muscled in. Jared had never been much of a 'group hug' kind of guy, but at this moment, he had no say-so in the matter. He was cacooned by all four boys in a Herculean embrace of loving boy-strength.

And then the four super-boys turned their mighty affections on Tom, unrestrained tears of joy and relief streaming from their eyes.

The cockpit celebration came to an end quickly enough. Company employees were striding across the tarmac toward the big Antonov. Jared lead the way down to the main deck and over to the port crew access door just forward the port wheel well sponson. As he opened the door, a company employee entered with a suitcase packed with fresh clothing for everyone, the four boys, Tom and Jared.

"Tom," Jared said. "Congratulations. Looks like y'all have made it out OK. I am so… sorry for my part in bringing this nightmare to your door. I hope some of what I've done the last few days makes us quits."

"What do you mean, Jared? We're not quits. Not by a long shot. What do you mean quits? You're coming HOME with us!"

"Look, Tom. You don't owe me anything. I came to that island to kidnap you and kill and those boys for money. There's nothing that can ever change that. Nothing." Jared looked down at the deck.

"Jared, if you'd really come to kill us, you'd have shot us when we first found you instead of sticking your pistol in your mouth. If you were a murderer, you'd never have gone into that mortar impact zone to pull out your own guys, even when you knew they'd only be shot once you got them clear. You're a good man, Jared. I don't know what it was that made you fall in with those cut throats, but like I said to you before, I'll bet my life there's a story in there somewhere. I hope someday you'll share it with me, and with the boys if you can ever bring yourself to open up to us that much."

Tom could see the man's hesitation. Jared was at the end of his emotional tether and Tom could see he was on the verge of loosing it. He decided now was not the time for gentle persuasion so he decided to push things over the edge.

"Look, Jared, you said it yourself. We're still in danger here. We have to leave now. I just don't have the time now to convince you. Now you're coming with us. If Elias Wright or his goons find you, your life isn't worth a plug nickel. With no plane to get them out till a replacement arrives, they'll have plenty of time to comb the island for clues to who helped us escape. You're already missing… have been for a several days. When they don't find your body, they'll know it was you. Outside Antonics, you don't stand a chance. You're one of us now, like it or not."

Jared didn't seem to Tom to be listening. "Tell 'ya what, Jared, you got two choices and staying here's not one of 'em. Either you walk across the tarmac and get on that jet with me or all I have to do is say the word. Ricky or any one of these boys'll just hoist you under his arm like a sack of potatoes. Won't be anything you can do about it. Not sure what that'll do for your dignity, but the boys and I'll worry about your bruised ego later. Right now it's your ass we're concerned about."

The four boys were NOT smiling now. From the determined looks on their faces, there was no doubt in Jared's 'military mind' that they were lined up behind Tom 'four-square' on this. They had no intention whatever of permitting him to remain behind. He could go with them peacefully or otherwise, but, one way or the other, he WOULD be going with them.

After they'd all donned their fresh clothing, Jared marched across the tarmac behind Tom like a puppy, flanked on either side by Ricky and Eric, their powerful muscles hidden discreetly under loose fitting street clothes; but ready to take Jared down if he should do something really stupid like make a break for it. Jared, they all knew now, was something of a non-stop walking 'guilt trip' and might well be good for that self-destructive sort of thing. Jack and Alex brought up the rear, ready to do their part to rescue this man from himself, yet again, should the need arise.

They needn't have worried. Just like with Ricky in the trees, Jared had decided to 'go with the flow.' He couldn't admit it to himself… at least not yet. But deep in his soul, he was overjoyed to belong to this magnificent company… to be wanted and loved by them.

As the company jet lifted off the runway at Cubi Point into the southwestern Pacific dawn. The pilot laid in a northeasterly course on the flight computer for an intermediate fueling stop in Hawaii… their ultimate destination, corporate home office in Sunnyvale, California.

The cabin crew made everyone comfortable, served an in flight meal and then Jared and the boys stretched out and went to sleep. Wexler and Tom conferred at the rear of the aircraft. Wexler laid out a copy of Dr. Vanderhaeghe's Last Will and Testament, leaving his entire estate to a charitable trust to be known as the 'Antonics Trust.' Tom Henderson was appointed sole trustee for life and as such, ex-officio Chief Executive Officer of Antonics, Inc. Wexler would continue as President and chief operating officer. Tom, of course, was no more capable than Dr. Vanderhaeghe had been of running day-to-day operations of a multi-billion dollar corporation. This was Wexler's forte. But Tom would supply the guidance and the vision. Vanderhaeghe had left some suggestions, but nothing of a binding nature. He had trusted Tom with his boys and he had loved Tom and trusted his judgment and good faith to discern the best opportunities to serve the cause of the higher good of humanity. Tom was beginning to get the kernel of an idea.

By the time the jet landed at the corporate airfield near Sunnyvale, he had a much clearer idea of what he wanted to do, but he wanted to use Jared and Wexler as sounding boards. Right now he was dog tired. He hadn't gotten much sleep on the plane. He desperately wanted to crash for about twenty-four hours and then he could deal with this. They would be billeted at the company hostel on the 'campus' of Antonics world headquarters where the home office and numerous lab facilities were situated. This would be a safe, secure sanctuary, out of the reach of Wright and his henchmen. Since the bomb scare, company security had been stepped up and there was little chance of any such recurrence.

As they were preparing to retire, Jared took Tom aside.

"Tom, I'm not going to do anything stupid, I swear. But there's someone I have to go see and I have to leave now. This is important… very important to me."

"Jared, I'm dog tired right now. I'm so tired I can't think straight. I've come to love you like I love these boys. We owe you our lives, but I'm really scared of what's going on inside your head. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you and, worse, the boys'd never forgive me. Please, God, can't this wait until I've had some sleep. I'd rather twenty-four but for you, I just really need a good twelve hours and then we can talk. If this is legit, I promise, I'll help you do whatever you have to do. I've got the full faith and credit of a multi-billion dollar corporation behind me to make good on that promise."

"OK, Tom, but since I'm still in your 'protective custody,' I'm entitled to one phone call."

"Sure Jared, as long as you don't mind if Ricky listens in."

"Not the way I'd have preferred it, but I guess it'll have to do."

With Ricky sitting next to him in his room, using a speaker phone, Jared placed a call to the Rodrigues home in East Los Angeles. Sra. Rodrigues answered the phone. "How is Augie?" Jared asked. "Oh, Jared, thank God. We were all so worried. Where are you?"

Ricky placed his index finger vertically against his lips but he needn't have worried. Jared was hypersensitive to security, especially over the telephone, especially now. He was taking a chance with the Rodrigues family just calling them from here, but not all that much of a chance. This would have to be a short conversation.

"Sra. Rodrigues, look, I can't stay on the line too long. I'm OK and I'll be home soon. Very soon. I just need to know how Augie is doing."

"Jared, he's not doing too good. I hope you can make it home. I don't think he's got too much longer."

Jared choked, then bit his fist, drawing blood. "I love you 'madre mia.' I promise I'll come right home. Tell Dr. Rodrigues, the kids and Augie that I love them and that I'm coming home."

"OK, Jared. We love you too. We'll see you when you get here."

"So long, Sra. Rodrigues. See you soon." And then Jared rung off.

He put his head down on the table and cried for his beloved Augie. More than he'd ever cried in all his life, his body racked with violent sobs of unbearable grief. Maybe under different circumstances he'd have held back because of Ricky, but this boy had already seen more emotional display from Jared than most people who had known him all his life, including his parents. He couldn't hide his feelings from Ricky anyway so why even try? Ricky gently stroked Jared's hair, crying with his friend. He didn't know all the details but he knew someone Jared cared for very deeply was dying and that was all he needed to know.

"Let it come, Jared," Ricky said. "Just let it all out."

Ricky was not religious. There was no way he could have been. Tom and Dr. Vanderhaeghe both had a visceral hatred of organized religion, equating all religion with Bible-belt homophobia, racism and narrow-mindedness. They had systematically shielded the boys as best they could from the 'poisoning influence' of organized religion.

Despite Jared's homophilia, his flat refusal to have anything sexually to do with Ricky was clearly based upon religious-moral compunction, not upon any lack of sexual attraction per se to Ricky. He had come to understand that Jared was a good and decent man in spite of his 'moral hang-ups.' Privately, in his mind, Ricky addressed an appeal to Jared's God (he would not have thought of this as 'prayer'). If this God were real, if there were anything good or gentle in his nature at all, Ricky beseeched Him to find a way to spare the life of this dying man Jared cared for so deeply. Then he helped maneuver Jared to bed and curled up on the floor alongside his friend and went to sleep.

The next morning, Ricky made sure he was up before Jared. He went to Tom and filled him in on what he knew about Jared's friend. Of course Tom would see the Rodrigues that very day. He would be flown in a company jet down to LA, under protective guard, of course. His approach to the Rodrigues would be very circumspect, to avoid even the remotest possibility that any of Elias Wright's spies could make any connection whatever between Antonics and Augie's family. Ricky would also go along.

Before they left the building for the ride to the company airfield, Tom had everybody sit down together for a light breakfast. Nathan Wexler in his de rigeur blue suit with button down collar and regimental tie was there. Tom spoke.

"Jared, boys… on the flight back home, Nathan and I have had some brief discussions about the direction of the corporation and of project Hercules. But before we go any further, we will want to bring you guys into the loop. After Jared and Ricky return from LA, we'll all sit down in earnest to start hammering things out. Right now, Jared you go on down to LA and take as much time as you need. But when you're done we'll expect you to come on back up here. And don't take any stupid chances. We really don't know what Wright and his cronies in MulviaEverinia are up to. Remember its not just you now. Ricky'll be with you and you have to think of the Rodrigues' safety as well."

"OK, Tom. I'll behave. And once I'm done down there, Ricky and I will come straight home. Honest."

Tom flashed Jared one of those charming grins like the ones that had made FDR so famous. It said very clearly, with no words required, "I'm counting on that, Jared and I'm expecting you to be as good as your word."

He spoke aloud, "You two have a safe trip."

And then they got up to go.

Chapter 19
Augie

Jared and Rick spoke very little on the flight down to LA. Rick insisted on holding Jared's hand as they sat on the plush sofa bench at the rear of the aircraft and Jared let him. Jared had never been a 'touchy-feely' kind of guy, even though he was gay, but Tom and these kids had been so… opposite of that. They never tried to hide their feelings and had always been encouraged to demonstrate their affection. Everything was out in the open. No fear or inhibition, letting you know exactly how they felt. This was taking some getting used to. Jared would never be as open as they, but he was beginning to adjust somewhat, to shift gears. This would be a real shock for Augie, of course. He'd been on Jared since they had first met and fell in love to open up and show more of his feelings. Jared wondered what Augie would think of him now. Now that with Augie, it was almost too late. He could feel his grief welling up inside again and Ricky, super-empath that he was, picked up on it right away. He gave Jared a comforting squeeze of the hand, but carefully avoided eye contact. Ricky knew that Jared had no wish to open up now and that, just now, Jared's emotional sluices could spring wide open with very little provocation.

They landed at LAX mid-morning. The company security detail rented two Hertz cars, a primary vehicle and a chase. They drove via circuitous route to another Hertz office, exchanged vehicles and then on to the Rodrigues home. Jared's reunion with Dr. and Sra. Rodrigues was emotional, to say the least. Most poignant of all was when he introduced Ricky to them. He could not go on. He was so overcome by emotion that, momentarily, he simply could not explain coherently all that had happened over the past several days; how this young man, Ricky, had come into his life. Dr. Rodrigues had never seen Jared like this but he assumed that Augie's terminal condition must be at least part of what was going on. Once Jared regained some semblance of his composure, he gave only the sketchiest outline of what had happened on Ponce de Leon, but sparing nothing of his own intended role in killing these boys and kidnapping Tom Henderson. Dr. Rodrigues simply couldn't believe Jared would be part of something like that.

"In God's name, Jared, Why?"

"For money, Dr. Rodrigues. For Augie's life. For my life."

Jared could not continue…

Ricky jumped to Jared's defense. "He saved us, Dr. Rodrigues. When push came to shove, he couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt us. He saved all of us. If he hadn't been there we'd all be dead now. The only reason we got out alive is because Jared came and rescued us."

Sra. Rodrigues spoke up. "I'm sure we'll have time to sort all this out later. But Augie is waiting. I told him you were coming Jared. He's so anxious to see you again."

"OK, Sra. Rodrigues, let's go… and don't worry. By the time we're with Augie, I'll be OK. I promise I won't let him see me like this."

"I only wish you would, Jared. Augie knows he is dying. You have no right to be brave with him. You owe it to each other to share you passion and your grief. There's not much time and it's all you have left together now. Don't throw away this chance to share your feelings with him. You know that's what he's wanted from you all along. I don't know what has happened to you out there Jared, but I think it is something beautiful. I can see you're in a lot of pain. But now at least its on the outside, not all bottled up in your stomach. That is so wrong, my son. Go to Augie and cry with him."

And that is exactly what Jared did. For the better part of an hour that is all they did, together. And then, once he'd finally regained some semblance of control over himself, Jared introduced Ricky to Augie. This opened Jared up all over again. Jared sat on Augie's death bed with Ricky alongside. Now Jared was together in one place, at one time, with the two people he loved most in the world. It was a bittersweet moment, but one he would remember the rest of his life. He doubted he would ever approach such an emotional zenith ever again.

***

As it happened, the end never came for Augie. After a briefing from Ricky, Tom had Wexler's 'snitches' checked out the particulars of Augie's disease and surmised that company genetic research resources could be brought to bear first to stabilize Augie's condition and then to save his life.

***

Tom had been nursing a hunch since Jared's second miraculous recovery, following his transfusion from Alex after taking that enemy bullet that had been meant for Jack. This second recovery had been even more remarkable than his first. Moreover, Jared had reported experiencing more than a threefold increase in his own already considerable strength, agility and endurance. This could only be accounted for by the transfusions. When Jared and Ricky had first returned from East LA to Antonics in Sunnyvale, Tom had requested that Jared submit to a thorough physical examination by company doctors and physiologists. Tissue scrapings and urine samples were taken and blood was drawn. In due course, Tom's suspicions were confirmed. Certain aspects of the boys' genetics seemed to have been transferred to Jared by the transfusion. This appeared to be permanent. For lack of pre-transfusion samples, researchers could not be absolutely certain, but it appeared that Jared's own genetic structure had been subtly altered. Tom asked Jared to accept additional transfusions from Jack and Alex which he was willing to do as long as this would contribute to research which could lead to saving Augie's life. But Jared continued to gain strength to a point that he was arguably, aside from the four boys, among the strongest human beings alive.

It was Jared who first raised the question. "Tom, if this keeps up, won't my muscles actually become 'too strong?'"

Tom replied, "Too strong? How do you mean?"

"Well, Tom, as you don't need me to tell you, muscle tissue, especially mine after these transfusions, is more 'dynamic' than bone or tendon. What you're doing to me with these transfusions has got to be having more of an effect on my muscles than on my bone and tendon… right? So, unless my bone and tendon are changing in the same way and at the same rate as my muscle tissue, won't I reach a point where muscle loading could go beyond the shear and tensile strength of the bone and tendon? Didn't you and Vanderhaeghe go to a lot of trouble during the boys' gestation to enhance their skeletal development to avoid exactly this problem?"

"Hey, wait, Jared. You may be right! I'll need to take bone and tendon samples from you and run a series of cat scans to know for sure. Meanwhile, keep this situation in mind when you work out, especially with heavy weights or do anything that calls for high muscle loading."

Jared's suspicion proved correct. The transfusions had little perceivable affect whatever on Jared's bone or tendon. But more important, it was clear that Jared's muscle tissue had been profoundly enhanced although not to the point where Jared's skeletal structure would be in any serious jeopardy. There would be time enough later for Tom to explore the results of a marrow transplant from Jack to Jared. Maybe Jared's bone could assimilate the boy's genetic traits from that. But Jared might take some convincing. Tom's research had already achieved its main objective. The evidence was strong that blood transfusions from one of the boys might well save Augie's life. Beyond that, Jared was tiring of his role as human 'guinea pig.' He was not interested in becoming a super-man. Tom would fight that battle later, not now. He felt that eventually, with Jared's and who knew, maybe Augie's cooperation, he could solve the bone and tendon 'glitch.' If he could identify and eventually synthesize the 'agent' or 'agents' in the boys' bodies responsible for transfer of aspects of their marvelous genetics to ordinary human beings, the implications for the human species as a whole would be staggering. Tom's four boys would not in that event be merely 'super-men,' but rather 'proto-types,' not only for future generations, but conceivably for every human being alive today! Years of research would lie ahead but, in time, these four lives could have more impact upon humanity as a whole than anyone else born in the second millennium. Yes, Tom decided, Jared and Augie would be his preliminary link between the boys' super-genentics and the rest of humanity. Although they would not likely ever attain the phenomenal strength and agility of the boys, Tom refused to rule out this possibility altogether. Only time and more research would tell. The first order of business was to get Augie well!

Tom mandated a regimen of transfusions from Ricky to Augie. He and Augie were a match. Stabilization came almost immediately. Within months, Tom had hit upon a cure. Augie's life was saved and by now Tom's hold on the loyalties of both Jared and Augie was as rock solid as his passionate loyalty to both of them.

This also further solidified the bond among Ricky and Jared and now Augie. By this time, Ricky had developed a special, although not sexual, relationship with Augie. (Augie would have been horrified at sex with anyone under age and, although he might not have been as squeamish as Jared at the prospect of sex with a eleven year old, he was, nevertheless, very reticent about it. Not to mention, he knew very well how Jared felt and, besides, he felt an obligation to be 'faithful' to Jared. So sex for Augie with anyone other than Jared was out of the question.) Despite the difference in their ages, the man and boy were so much alike in so many ways. Although their respective relationships with Jared were somewhat different, they DID have 'their' Jared in common between them. They were both so deeply in love with Jared… in love with everything about him, including his foibles. Often, Ricky and Augie would exchange knowing glances over some inside joke, usually about their beloved, somewhat eccentric, Jared, that only the two of them could ever know or understand. But their regard for each other went beyond just Jared. It was Ricky's blood that had saved Augie's life! And they were both so open and affectionate that it was inevitable that they would grow emotionally closer to each other than either was to the relatively withdrawn, less demonstrative, Jared.

Once, though, after Augie had begun to regain his strength, Ricky had been coaching him with his re-hab exercise program. On his way to the workout area, Augie passed by the living quarters where the four super-boys were billeted together. Rick and Augie had arranged to rendezvous here before Augie's workout. Augie knocked on the door and it was Ricky who opened it. He was wearing sweat pants, but he was stripped to the waist. Augie had never seen any of the boys this way before. They had all visited his sickbed and he had seen them many times during the early stages of his recuperation. But the dress code at company headquarters while casual, was a bit more 'business-like' than on Ponce de Leon, especially for the boys.

So this was Augie's very first eye full of the any of the boys' muscular development other than through discreet, loose-fitting street clothes or sweat gear. Ricky was a real piece of work. He and his three young friends had continued their physical conditioning program at corporate headquarters, including strength training with obscenely heavy weights. His upper body was breath taking. Augie had a superb physique, himself, but he was a mature adult. This young man had the most incredible muscle tone Augie had ever seen. This was not the ponderous over-development of some steroid-pumped pro-body builder. Ricky's physique was perfect, symmetrical, a sublime work of art! His cute boyish features crowned the most perfectly sculpted male body Augie had ever seen, and Augie considered himself a connoisseur of the male human form. The neck muscles were incredible for a teen… incredible period! The delts, traps, lats, pecs; all incredibly massive on such a young frame. And the abs… ripped to shreds! Everything in ideal proportion, not grotesque. The muscle separation was stunning. What was this boy's body fat count, anyway! Three… four percent? But to Augie, the most amazing aspect of Ricky's muscles was their obvious hardness. To Augie's expert eye, this translated as 'muscle density.' He'd never seen anything like it! Ricky, right away detecting Augie's critical eye, responded with a playful, boyish grin. Augie's heart skipped a beat as he swallowed hard. He felt burning hot fluid suddenly injected into his stomach.

By this time, Ricky had developed a deep, loving affection for Augie and this man's frank admiration of his body was a real turnon. Ricky invited Augie into the boys' apartment. The other three boys were out so it was just the two of them. "I'll only be a minute, Augie. Just let me pull on my sweatshirt and I'll be ready to go."

Augie replied, "Ricky, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I've never seen any of you boys with your shirts off. I know Jared has, but you know him, he never tells me anything. I mean, I've known about your phenomenal strength and physical agility, but he just never told me anything about what you look like with your shirt off. Even if he had, there's nothing he could have said that would have prepared me. I'm in shock."

"Gee, thanks Augie! It really makes me feel good when a fine dude like you gets into my muscles. I gotta level with you, Augie, it turns me on to look at you, too! I always look forward to working with you on your rehab workouts. My favorite part of the day! Your progress has been so awesome!"

Augie should have picked up on Ricky's sexual innuendo, but he was too focused on his body to catch it. "Ricky, I would really appreciate it if you'd just let me feel your bicep. I just can't get over your muscle density. That's as impressive to me as your huge mass."

"Sure, Augie, feel this!" Ricky pumped up his right bicep, enthusiastically serving it up for the man as it erupted into eye-popping, knotted, thick boy-sinew. Augie squeezed the steel hard muscle. The belly of the bicep was so unbelievably well defined, so deep and wide. "Augie, feel me all over, man! It really drives me wild when a hot guy like you grooves on me like this. Ricky turned around and backed into Augie, executing a super-boy double bicep and rolling his awesome back muscles as he pressed into him. Augie responded as any red-blooded American (or Argentine) faggot would. His cock sprang immediately to attention inside his sweat pants. Augie folded his arms around the willing boy's torso, devouring with his hands the seething marble-hard muscularity of this incredibly beautiful super-youth. And then, suddenly, he broke free from his raging lust, releasing his hold of the boy and jumping back from him, scalded by white hot shame and guilt.

"Oh, God, Ricky! No! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for THIS to happen!"

Ricky spun around, brutally wrenched in an instant from the promise of sweet bliss to bitter disappointment and non fulfillment. "Aw, Augie, not you too! Please don't pull away from me. I want you as bad as I've wanted Jared all these months. Please! Don't you shut me out, too!"

"No, Rick. This can't happen. I was wrong to take advantage of you. I love you as much as Jared does. But I can't do this. Neither of us can. We just can't!

Augie turned away in remorse.

Ricky took Augie's face in his hands looking into his dark brown eyes. "Augie, you and Jared are both so hung up about me. I just wish to God the both of you would just let go and let me in. Why does this have to be such a big deal? I want you so bad and I know you want me. Why can't we just give ourselves to each other if that's what we both want?"

"Because, Ricky, I could never look any of you in the face again if I let this happen… you, the other boys, Tom. And Jared… if you and I did this, we might both loose him forever. No matter what you think, this is not right. And one day you'd hate me if I took advantage of you like this now, just because the law says you're legal, barely, no matter how bad you think you want it now."

"Augie, I could NEVER hate you. Not if my life depended on it! I love you… and I love Jared so much it hurts. I just wish you and Jared could ACCEPT that and let's just go with it!"

Ricky looked down at the floor in frustration. Almost! He'd almost broken through with Augie. But once again, these strange moralistic hang-ups, just like Jared's, had gotten in his way! Oh well… he'd made more headway with Augie than he ever had with Jared. Maybe not today, but one day he'd smash down their inhibitions and have these two strange warriors who'd stolen his heart… and he'd give himself freely, lovingly, with exuberance and passion to both of them. He thought to himself; "Man! When that day comes, it's gonna be so… awesome!"

"Ricky, look, I don't believe I'm up for this workout right now. I think I need to go back to my quarters and lie down."

"Oh no you don't, Augie! You're coming with me to the workout area and we're gonna pump some iron! You're not gonna put me off on this, too. Working with you on this rehab means as much to me as it does to you and I'm damned if you're gonna deprive me of it. I can only stand so much disappointment in one day. By God, I'm gonna watch you pump up those hot muscles of yours and break a sweat for me. Now let me get my sweatshirt on and we're outta here."

Tom was nearly ready to move into the next phase of Project Hercules. Now that he was surrounded by good people, he was planning in earnest for that policy and strategy conference he'd been wanting since their safe return from Ponce de Leon to corporate headquarters. Introduction of the Rodrigues family into the general milieu had complicated things somewhat. Dr. and Sra. Rodrigues had refused to abandon the medical practice in East LA until Tom funded construction of a free clinic to serve the unemployed and working poor in Dr. Rodrigues' neighborhood. With the clinic in place, there was no longer any valid basis of refusal and Dr. and Sra. Rodrigues joined Jared and Augostino at Antonics in Sunnyvale. The other Rodrigues children would continue their education at the local Catholic schools in Sunnyvale, under the watchful aegis of corporate security. This removed a major concern from Tom's shoulders.

The presence of the Rodrigues on the Antonics campus was a particular boon to the boys. In addition to their continued private tutoring and strenuous exercise, by means of which they continued to strengthen and grow in agility and power, now their minds were being cultivated with the very same culture and values which had first awakened Jared's once dead soul. It is perhaps reasonable to wonder how Jared might have reacted on Ponce de Leon in similar circumstances had he not been under the influence of the Rodrigues. Without that leavening and perspective, who knows were would his moral rudder might have steered him?

The boys, young, open and exuberant as they were, devoured everything the Rodrigues had to offer with the same ravenous hunger that they devoured the nourishment that fed their awesome muscles. Their positive response to Dr. and Sra. Rodrigues' influence was a particular source of satisfaction to Jared. In his youth Jared had been a virtual stranger to classical music and culture. He was delighted to see the boys exposed so early to these profound ideas and concepts that had come to mean so much to him. Jared felt it was at least as important to cultivate their sensitivity and love of beauty as it was to toughen and strengthen their bodies.

In addition to weight lifting and other physical training and super-athletic activities which built their strength and agility, Tom and Augie taught the boys everything they knew about martial arts and the other combat skills they'd learned from their tour of duty with the Seals. They even managed to take the boys on outings to islands offshore where the boys were subjected to training and tests of endurance that would have killed ordinary men. This was the kind of stress it took to push the boys to expand their phenomenal limits. Augie was the softer of the two, of course, but Jared was ruthless and near demonic in the tests of skill, strength and endurance he would devise for the boys. He had developed a sensitivity and finesse which enabled him to discern just how far to push the boys and when it was time to ease off. The boys were passionately devoted to both Jared and Augie. When they wanted to cry, it was usually to Augie they ran, except for Ricky. He could melt Jared in a way the other boys never could, so he had the luxury of confiding in either man.

They were very quickly maturing into strong, brilliant, sophisticated but still, truly gentle souls. Very soon, Tom would be ready to present the world with his small 'section' of super heroes.

Epilogue

One year to the day after their escape from Ponce de Leon, Tom called his longawaited Project Hercules staff planning and strategy conference . He had all the major players assembled in the Antonics board room: Nathan Wexler, Eric, Alex, Ricky and Jack, Jared, Augie and Dr. Rodrigues. Although Tom, Wexler and Jared had been fleshing out the future of Project Hercules for a year, it was not until now that they were ready to implement. Tom rose to address the group.

"One year ago today, Jared, the boys and I made good our escape from Ponce de Leon. On the day we were attacked, Dr. Vanderhaeghe, founder of Antonics and creator of this project was senselessly murdered by evil, venal men. We have in the interim, licked our wounds and consolidated our strength. We are deeply honored that, since our safe return, Dr. Rodrigues and his son Augostino have joined our ranks. Now we are ready to go to war. In the first stage, we will return in force to Ponce de Leon to reclaim our property. Under Jared's and Augie's guidance, the boys will continue their education and training there. Very soon, they will be ready to deploy, in secret to strike terror in the hearts of terrorists and murderers around the world. We will not seek fame, power or profit. We will defend the weak and fight for justice. These fine young men will be our weapons. They are fit, strong and fearless, but most of all, they are tender hearted. They can feel pain. Not only their own but that of others. I cannot think of a better way to honor Dr. Vanderhaeghe's legacy, nor can I think of a more fitting application of the fruit of his ground breaking research in the field of bioengineering and genetic research, as manifest in these four magnificent young men."

"Meanwhile, I will continue to lead our research at company headquarters. Thanks to the pioneering work of Dr. Vanderhaeghe, and to some serendipitous discoveries in the meantime, I am firmly convinced that we are on the verge of discoveries in genetic engineering which will alter human physiology and human history. This will necessitate my separation from the boys for long periods which pains me deeply. But I will make occasional visits to Ponce de Leon Island, as Doctor Vanderhaeghe did and I know in the mean time that the boys will be in the eminently capable hands of Jared and Augie."

This had been inevitable since Dr. Vanderhaeghe had been killed. It had been only a matter of time before Tom's day-to-day, hour-by-hour contact with the boys would be over forever. But the boys were not really lost to him. He would visit Ponce de Leon as often as he could and, now that the boys were older and could maintain the discretion so essential to Project Hercules, they would return from Ponce de Leon to corporate HQ two or three times a year.

There was no dissent, of course. This was, after all, not a democracy. But, truly, Tom's sentiments would have been as easily spoken by anyone in the room. Providence had brought these like-minded men together. Tom had never been a man of either faith or superstition. But neither was he a pig-headed fool. He could not imagine a random series of coincidences that could have led to the events that had brought these particular people together in this particular time and place, all equally, passionately committed to fighting, with their lives, if need be, for the greater good of their fellow human beings. It had to be destiny and, what the hell, it was going to be one helluv an interesting ride. For all of them.

The End