David Golemon: Leviathan

"I hope you're right," Virginia said sadly.

"Well, if you people aren't a sorry sight to behold," Everett said seriously. "Here we are on a calm and peaceful sea, and you're moping around like you lost your dog."

The president looked at Colonel Jack Collins with his brows raised, then back at Captain Everett.

"I believe you've broken into my private wet bar," the president said with a mock frown.

"If Colonel Farbeaux has taught us anything, it's never to stand on ceremony when a drink is to be had. By the way, sir, it is my understanding that your wine cellar has quite a way to travel to meet up with the quality of Captain Heirthall's."

"So I understand."

Suddenly, loud music blared from the dining salon of the presidential yacht. The Supremes belted out the song "You Can't Hurry Love," and to everyone's astonishment, a very drunken Ryan and Mendenhall danced out of the dining salon wearing women's bathing suits, lip-syncing the words to the song. Their hand gestures were like those of the Supremes in their heyday.

The loudest laughs came from Garrison Lee and the president as they watched the two men shimmy and dance their way toward Jack and Sarah with a nervous looking Secret Service team following, ready to shoot the two men. Before Jack could react, Sarah, embarrassed beyond belief, simply smiled and pushed the two lieutenants over the side of the yacht and into the warm gulf.

The music continued to play as Everett doubled over in laughter, and that was the reason he never saw Jack gently raise his foot into the air, sending him to join his fellow pranksters.

Soon, they were all laughing at the struggling men splashing and trying to get out of the water.

A quarter of a mile away, the dark blue eyes of a symbiant breached the surface of the gulf and watched the men as they struggled aboard the presidential yacht. With eyes blinking against the glare of the southern sun, the sym arched its back and dived back into deep water.