Author's Note: Again, sorry for the delay! Inception literally has taken over my fandom capacity. This isn't too much of an update, but more will come soon! Thanks for the reviews, enjoy!

David turned out to be an excellent sailor, operating the boat with finesse as he commanded the A-Team to do various tasks. They were two hours into the open ocean, without another boat in sight, when they took a lunch break.

Murdock had made them a nice hearty stu, the meat in which everyone was too wise to ask the origin of. Singing a sea shanty, Murdock served his crew merrily before grabbing a bowlful himself and plopping down beside Face in the small eating nook. It was a tight squeeze fitting all five men in the galley, but they ate with gusto and David gave them a few more details about the kidnapping.

"Paul is much more into the preservation of our heritage than I am," he admitted. "I'm going to the university for medicine. He decided not to go to school, but he's been working with Native American advocacy groups and is a pretty public figure around here. Very outspoken. I'm worried they know who he is and will try to make an example of him."

"What problem do they have with Native American rights?" Hannibal asked.

"Paul's very outspoken about illegal whaling," David explained. "He says it's important that all whaling practices are respectful and legal, in order to maintain that part of our tradition peaceably. Commercial whalers like the ones who took him not only destroy any chance for us to practice it, but they do not use the whales they kill responsibly at all. Oftentimes they chop off one part of the whale and just throw out the rest, or else they hunt female whales, which is entirely forbidden."

"What's the market for whale meat anyway?" Face asked, making a face. "Doesn't sound that good to me."

Before David could respond, a voice boomed across the water to them from a distant PA system.

"Attention sea craft; You are about to enter contested waters, please divert course to South by Southeast."

"Contested waters?" David said, frowning. "We're hundreds of miles from Canada, there's no contested waters around here."

Hannibal and Murdock, being on the outsides of the booths, had both sprung up to look out at the source of the noise.

Hannibal scanned the horizon, searching for another ship, when he heard Murdock.

"Colonel, I think we got trouble." Hannibal looked up to see Murdock pointing starboard, where a mean-looking ship, large and industrial, was fast approaching. It looked like a fishing ship.

"Oooh Lawdy, troubles so hard!" Murdock sang as Hannibal rushed to get a closer look.

"David, hide in the cabin somewhere," Hannibal called out. "The team and I are going to have a little talk with this vessel."

Face walked up to stand beside his CO.

"They sure don't look like they're up for chatting boss," he said, slightly nervously.

"Well Face, we have to say something," Hannibal said. "We're just simple fishermen after all, and these waters are in no way 'contested'. And if they won't listen to reason, well, I find that certain things can stimulate conversation." He patted the rifle in his pocket. Face gulped.

"Murdock, send them a signal in semaphore, ask them if we can come aboard to talk."

"He knows semaphore now?" Face asked as Murdock skipped off to fetch the flags.

Hannibal shrugged. "I just assumed so."