Alejandra stood in front of the closed door to the media room and tried to get her courage up.

  This was ridiculous. She'd led men in combat against some of the worst pieces of human offal in history, and done it without flinching. And here she was, her gut churning, her palms sweaty, just at the thought of talking to her children.

  This was stupid. She growled the fear away and planted her hand on the pocket door, sliding it to the side and stepping into the small room. Olivia and Dinah and Lucas were all parked in front of the big-screen TV, playing one of their co-op video games. From the way Lucas was squirming, he was winning.

  "Hey guys," she said softly in greeting. "How's it going in here?"

  Three pairs of young and vulnerable eyes turned to her, their game forgotten.

  She almost turned and ran.

  "Hi Mrs. Albright," Dinah, her daughter's best friend, was the first to speak. Her voice was hesitant, and her blue eyes slid away from looking directly at Alejandra's gaze.

  "Hi mom," the other kids said, now that the ice had been broken. "We're playing Mario Kart," Lucas continued alone. He glanced back at the screen then up at his mom. "Did you… Want to play?"

  "No hijo," Alejandra said, smiling softly. "I just wanted to come down and make sure you guys were okay. Tu mama got kind of… Uh…"

  "Loud," Olivia said. "And kinda scary."

  Alejandra winced. "Yeah. That. I'm sorry about that. Tu mama y tu papa are just dealing with a few things right now, but it wasn't right of me to get.." her lips quirked in a sad smile. "Scary. So, I'm sorry."

  "Are you gonna leave?" Lucas asked, eyes wide and fearful.

  "No," she lied immediately. But was it a lie? She would never be out of their lives forever, but… But she was honest enough with herself to acknowledge that they might just be better off without her around all the time. Look at dinner. Would she have blown up at Bel like that before… Well. Before?

  "Good," Lucas said, nodding firmly.

  "Yeah," said Olivia, though she was still watching Alejandra warily, like she didn't fully believe. That was fair, when Alejandra didn't fully believe herself either.

  "I just wanted…" the boat rolled hard under her feet, and her arm jerked out to steady herself. "To apologize," she finished through clenched teeth. What the hell was with the seas? Matt had promised it would be smooth sailing all the way to the islands!

  "Okay," Lucas and Olivia both said, and Dinah nodded slowly. "Can we go back to Nintendo now?"

  "Sure," Alejandra said.

  Well. That hadn't been too hard. And she'd gotten through it without hitting anyone or anything, or feeling like her skin was going to crawl off. Granted, she probably could have been more convincing, but… Well. Baby steps.

  She left the kids to their games and stepped out of the cabin, sliding the door closed behind her. The simple movement was more difficult than it should have been because of the way the floor was starting to buck and pitch beneath her feet.

  “Oh this is just ridiculous,” she growled. She needed to talk to Matt. They’d been in rough seas before, but this felt like it was worse than that. He’d said he would be talking to Isabel, right? She turned and started towards her eldest daughter’s cabin, then grunted as she ran into another person.

  "Perdon, Senora," the voice of Luis, the new deckhand Matt had brought on board at Tomas’ recommendation, said. She stepped back and looked up at the man. He was smiling at her, having just stepped out of the hatch to the outside. “Everything is bien, si? Quite the storm building out there.”

  One of the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder can manifest as a kind of hyper-awareness, her last therapist's voice murmured into her ear. The woman had been a wrinkled old prune of a person and far too soft-spoken for her taste, but she'd known her business. This close to Luis, smelling the combination of deoderant and body odor leaking through his partially-open shirt, she felt her brain speed up and her vision sharpen.

  The man was head and shoulders taller than her, with limp black hair and a smile that was calculated to be charming. The smile did not reach his eyes.

  Little details shrieked into focus as it felt like time took on a kind of tunnel vision effect. The way he held himself on the rolling deck, the way he smiled greasily at her without meaning it. The way his eyes roamed over her body while somehow still staring her right in the eye. The way his hands were hooked into his belt by his thumbs. They were supposed to look casual. These and a thousand more little details she couldn’t even put words to all coalesced into a single image.

  And that image made her wish she had a weapon in her hands right now.

  “I was just seeing that the stores were properly secured,” the tall hispanic man continued in what he probably thought was an amiable voice, not having seen what was happening inside Alejandra’s skull. “I have been in storms like this before. Very important to make sure nothing comes flying off the shelves, si?” He paused and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Senora? Estas Bien?”

  “Fine,” she forced the word up through a dry throat. “Just a little tired is all.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Ah, entiendo, the sea voyage can be very strenuous on a woman.” The smile turned just a little greasy. “If you wish, I have in my cabin a very good bottle of rum I purchased from Ensenada last time I was there. I would be happy to share a drop with you to calm the nerves?”

  “No, thank you, I’ll be alright,” she said, stepping back to get away from the man’s odor. “I’ll just go lay down for a bit. Thank you though.”

  “No hay problema, Senora Albright,” he said, the grease not fully disappearing from his smile. “If you have need of anything, just call for me, si?”

  “I will,” she said, lying and not feeling bad about it this time. She watched the man turn and walk back towards the cabin he shared with Tomas at the end of the hall.

  You’re being paranoid, the voice in the back of her head hissed at her. You have no evidence. Your mind is playing tricks on you again. You’re basing everything off ten seconds in a hallway the size of a Pringles tube with the man just after an emotionally-charged moment.

  She had seen men like Luis. She had known men like Luis. Had known dozens of them back in the Desert. Quiet and unassuming on the outside, friendly and welcoming. Until they didn’t have to be. And then the next time you saw their eyes they were peering at you over the barrel of an AK-47. Or leering at you over the blade of a knife. Or worse, coming into your hooch after lights out because they thought the fact that you both wore the same uniform meant they could take liberties.

  She felt her pulse steady out, her vision sharpen, her breathing slow.

  The War rose within her.

  Paranoia is a symptom of PTSD. You are overreacting.

  She almost listened to the voice. Almost fought back against the War, almost dismissed what her instincts were screaming at her.

  “I win!” Lucas’s jubilant cry came through the wood of the door behind her.

  No.

  Her children were on the same boat as that man. Hers to protect and defend. Hers, always, no matter if she remained with their father or not.

  She might be paranoid. It could be that in a week they would be locking her up in whatever Hawaii had instead of mental institutions. But that man was on the boat with her children.

  There was no such thing as paranoia right now.

  She turned, decision made, and wrenched open the door to the media room. The movement was so quick that it startled the kids again, all of them turning to look at her with varying degrees of alarm on their faces.

  “Lock this door behind me,” she said as she strode quickly into the room and grabbed a couple of the handheld Motorola radios charging on their stands on a bookshelf. “Do not open it unless it’s me or tu papa. Comprende?”

  It was her Command Sergeant’s voice. She almost never used it with her children, but they knew that when she did, she was to be obeyed.

  “Yes mom,” her Lucas and Olivia said instantly, eyes wide and questioning.

  “Is everything alright Mrs. Albright?” Asked Dinah, not used to the tone as her children were.

  “Si,” she said, pocketing the radios and moving towards the door. “I just have to take care of some things. Lock this door behind me.” She met each of the children’s eyes in turn, waiting for a nod, before returning them all once and moving back into the hallway. She closed the door and waited for the ‘snick’ of the closing lock before she took the next step towards Isabel’s cabin. Matt had said he was going to talk to her.

  She opened the door without knocking, then blinked when she saw her daughter alone on her bed, headphones tight over her ears and eyes closed.

  Matty wasn’t here. Of course he wasn’t.

  “Isabel,” she said. Then louder; “Isabel!” She reached out and pulled at her daughter’s headphones, making the older teen start in surprise.

  “Mom? What the hell–”

  “Donde es tu papa?” Allie cut her off.

  “How should I know? Last I heard, you and him were fighting,” Isabel said, glaring at her defiantly. “Maybe he decided to leave you for once.”

  He must be in the conning tower. Probably he’d decided to see about adjusting course or whatever else he needed to do to take care of the storm. Just like him. Work first.

  Alejandra crossed the room in one step and seized her daughter’s shoulder in a hard grip.

  “Escucha me, Isabel.” She took one of the handheld radios from her pocket and turned it to channel three before pushing it into Bel’s hands. “Take this up to tu papa in the tower. Run, do not walk. Comprende?”

  Isabel’s defiance melted into fear at the words. “Mom? What’s going on?”

  “No time to explain. Move, hija. Now.”

  Isabel took a couple more seconds to stare at Alejandra. Then her daughter was up and moving, stumbling under the rocking of the boat as she bolted out of the cabin.

  Alejandra was right behind her, moving fast.

  She was in the main stateroom in a handful of seconds, skirting around the bed and the air mattress Matt had set up for himself on the floor as quickly as she could. She reached the closet, flung open the door, and stepped up to the floor-to-ceiling safe set into the left wall. A quick combination punched in on the keypad, and she all but flung the door of the gun safe open.

  She grabbed her favorite Sig Sauer pistol and three spare clips from the safe, briefly considered the AR-15 hanging there and dismissed it as overkill right now, then slapped home one of the 9mm clips and racked the slide back before closing and locking the safe again.

  Armed and ready–and feeling much better because of it–she turned back towards the hallway door. She was moving purposefully now instead of fast. The gun in her hand was a comforting weight, and her breathing was starting to even out.

  Luis’ room was at the end of the hall. He shared it with Tomas, who was a trusted employee and friend. She couldn’t lock him in there. She’d have to put him in the guest suite. Dinah would just have to sleep with the kids until they could get back to Long Beach and get that man off of her boat.

  Of course, first she’d have to tell Matty about her plan.

  She turned on the radio as she moved and sent out a call to her husband. “Matt, come in. Are you on this net yet?”

  No answer. Had Isabel decided not to take the radio to him after all? No matter. She would keep trying.

  She was only halfway to the door when she heard the shot.