For the second time, Stephen Thomas found himself aboard a ship bound from the Tradewinds Isle & Resort to the Florida Keys. And for the second time as his trip back home to Greensboro began, he was fuming. The first time had been following a four-year stint as a plane crash survivor, most of it on this same island along with the Red Midget. This time, thankfully, had been only a couple of days.

But how embarrassing.

The first time he had had someone to blame – Merritt. He laid the responsibility for the plane crash at his former partner’s feet, convinced himself that it was all a part of a master plan to get him out of the company once and for all. That conveniently rewritten history, potentially aided by those four years with no human contact (not counting the Red Midget, of course), left out the fact that he had wanted out of his then-current life. He had wanted out of the responsibility – only to find that he wanted back in. That he wanted the power that came with it.

This time was different. There was certainly someone to blame, but no face to put with that identity. The “Hacker” could be anyone – hell, it could even be Merritt again. But maybe not. There was something so personal, but also so…so… calculating, about all this. This person had popped up at various times over the last three years, never causing any huge trouble, just annoyances. And then…this. To come up with the resources to take over a whole cruise ship, to hire the men to be able to do it… To go after certain people on the ship and use their own history and personalities against them… And then, to force them off the ship just in sight of the same island that he and Red had been marooned on… the site of one of his greatest humiliations… and one that very few people knew about.

He had tried to keep that revelation to a minimum – tried to convince those that heard Red that this wasn’t… couldn’t be… the same island that he and Red had been on so many years ago. That they had languished here for four years until they hiked through a few miles of jungle and came upon a five-star resort.

As humiliating as it was… it just served as another piece in the puzzle. This “Hacker” was someone that didn’t just want to have power, to exert control… it is someone who wanted to humiliate. For what? Revenge? Personal vendetta? An old business partner who felt wronged?

Sadly, the list was almost endless. Starting with Merritt, the list ran on and on. He alone had ticked off and fired his own share. Pool that with what he and Merritt had done over an eighteen-year timeframe….the firings, putting competitors out of business, angry talent….and … the ‘pooping,’ of course.

And it wasn’t just personal humiliation, but an attack on the business itself. The Cruise Liner had been insured…but not for something like this. The cost of that ship alone was enough to threaten the existence of the CSWA. It would have been one thing to have the ship go down, but to have it stolen, with no proof? And the potential lawsuits from the fans onboard for the cruise… he didn’t even want to think about it. This was a fiscal disaster.

Thomas had acknowledged years ago that he wasn’t good at split-second decisions. But when he had time to think – the wheels turned at a steady pace, as he considered next steps. At least the PRIMETIME footage, such as it was, had made it back to Greensboro via satellite. He could use that to keep U-62 happy for awhile and until they could get back on the road. But after that? The plan had been to ride the feud between Mark Windham and Dan Ryan to the next pay-per-view…and now Troy Windham was back in the mix. Getting Troy onboard the ship had been a coup, but it added another huge paycheck to the mix. If only he could dump one of the big contracts – Mark, Hornet, Ryan, any of the others.

No sense crying over spilled milk – he needed that talent to pull this off.

Pull what off.

It took him a second to realize that the idea had already formed into existence in his mind – that he was seeing the echo, the afterimage of the neurons that had already fired in a distinct pattern, jumping from one seemingly unconnected to thought to another, until…

ANNIVERSARY. And the biggest event…and gamble… he had taken on his own to date.

Every time before, when the CSWA had been in danger, he and Merritt had pulled together to “sink or swim.” When the money got tight, they had decided over and over again to risk it on the big idea, the big event, the big contract. When the creative juices seemed to stagnate, they had prided themselves on kickstarting with matches like the WHEEL of DEATH or Firehouse, or events like the ULTRATITLE or Ironman of Champions.

And now, springing fully-formed from his mind like Athena reborn, he had it.

GOLD RUSH.