HE AIN’T HEAVY,
HE’S MY BROTHER
BY
Mary Elliott
Chapter 1
“Look
out!”
The
sound of crunching metal was instantaneously followed by a puff of white powder
as the airbags inflated engulfing both occupants of the front seat. A speeding
SUV had run through the light at State and Chapala, plowing into the front
panel of the black four-door Ford. The driver of the Ford, employed by NIMR as
a security guard, emerged with only minor injuries, but his passenger hadn’t been so lucky. He was on his way to a nearby hospital
wearing a cervical collar.
Fred
White was setting up in bed waiting to be discharged by the ER doctor when the
plastic curtain around his bed flew open. Standing in front of him were two
men, including Admiral Harriman Nelson. Nelson immediately barked out
questions.
“Are
you all right? What happened, Fred? Where is Commander Crane?”
“Give
the man a chance, Harry.” Turning to the patient, Dr. William Jamieson took
charge. “What has the doctor said about your injuries?”
“He’s
waiting for x-rays but he’s pretty sure there’s no major injuries. I’m going to
have a fantastic black eye even with using this icepack.” He took a breath and
then delivered the distressing news. “Doc, they had to cut the commander out of
the car and put him on a backboard. Admiral, I’m so sorry. The other driver
went right through the light and plowed into us. There wasn't anything I could
do to avoid it.”
“I
understand, Fred, I’m just glad you weren’t seriously injured,” the Admiral
reassured him, wordlessly apologizing for his earlier abrupt manner. Nelson’s
outward demeanor was under control but the driver’s words sent a stab to his
heart. “Do you know where Crane is?”
“Sorry,
Admiral. I overheard they took two critical patients from the accident up to
surgery but that’s all.”
Suddenly
there was a commotion a couple cubicles away. “Get me out of this contraption!”
The
three men looked at each other and grinned; they had found Lee. Following the sound
of the escalating discussion Harry and Jamie discovered a young nurse attempting
to stop Lee from removing the cervical brace.
“Sir,
you need to calm down and leave that alone. The doctor will be in very shortly.”
She took hold of his hands and held them down to his side. “Do I have to put
you in restraints?”
“That
will be enough of that, Commander!” Nelson, with his arms crossed on his chest,
stared at the younger man. Next to him stood Jamie, shaking his head in
resignation having played this game numerous times.
“Yes,
sir.” Lee responded automatically to the command then looked with pleading eyes
towards the doctor. “Tell them to take this damn thing off, will you, Jamie?
I’m fine.” His body suddenly shook with a fit of coughing, and the nurse put
the oxygen mask back on.
“May
I see the chart, nurse?” When she hesitated, Jamie explained. “I’m Doctor
Jamieson and Mister Crane’s physician. I have privileges here.”
“Of
course, doctor,” she said, handing it to him as she softly inquired, “Is this
normal behavior for this patient? I was wondering if the combative attitude was
a sign of concussion.”
“Unfortunately,
yes. No reflection on you or the hospital but Commander Crane dislikes all
things medical,” he replied in a similar volume, and then raised his voice so
the others could hear.
“Well,
Lee. For once, it looks like no concussion. You were telling the truth about
not losing consciousness and the other symptoms, correct?”
Lee
opened his mouth ready to give a smart aleck answer then thought better of it
after seeing the Admiral’s concerned expression. Sighing, he replied honestly.
“I
was a little fuzzy for a minute or two right after we were hit, but never
blacked out. No dizziness or nausea. My vision is slightly impaired but that
should be in the notes.”
“What’s
wrong with your eyes, Lee? Will?” Harry anxiously questioned.
“Nothing
to be concerned about, Harry. The cough and vision problems are common due to
the chemicals released from the airbag. I’ll keep a close eye on them but
things should clear up in three to four days.”
“Well
that’s great news Jamie, but when can I get this thing off?” Lee returned to his cantankerous ways.
“I’m
afraid you’re going to have to wait a while longer.” The ER doctor spoke as he
entered the cubicle. “Tests show there
is some slight trauma. As a precaution, you will need to wear a soft collar for
7 to 10 days. I’m admitting you for 24 hours observation.”
Giving
Lee no chance to argue, the nurse expertly removed the brace and replaced it
with a collar.
The
new doctor turned and extended his hand to Jamieson.
“I’m
Doctor Buchanan. The nurse said you were Mister Crane’s physician. If you wish,
I can show you the x-rays.”
“Thank
you, Doctor, I appreciate it. Admiral, why don’t you keep Lee company? We’ll
only be a minute.”
Outside
the curtain, doctors Jamieson and Buchanan studied the films. “I’m glad you’re
here, Doctor Jamison. From the time I’ve spent with Mister Crane, I strongly
believe the collar would have been tossed out a car window as his car pulled
away from the hospital.”
“I’m
afraid you’re right about your concerns. Don’t worry, right this minute he’s
receiving his orders.”
*****
Surprisingly,
Lee caused little trouble during his overnight stay. He wasn't happy about
being discharged in a wheelchair but he hated to admit to the fact he needed it;
waking up the next morning his whole body complained with every move, making
getting dressed a painful task.
The
sharp-eyed Nelson didn’t miss the trouble he was having. “Maybe you should spend a couple more days
here at the hospital, Lee. You can
barely get around. And I'm worried about your blurry version.”
“No
thanks, Admiral.
I just need a long hot shower to limber
up. I'll be fine.”
They
continued to argue during the short trip to the Institute. The discussion ended
when the car stopped at Nelson's bungalow.
“This
is what's going to happen, so both of you listen very carefully,” Jamie
ordered. “Lee, you are no shape to stay at your
condominium. Right now, there is no way you could handle all those stairs. Your
eyes are very irritated and your vision is not clear making it unsafe to leave
you on your own.
“Harry,
Lee doesn't need to be hospitalized. In fact, he would drive everybody crazy.
He is going to stay in your guestroom here at the bungalow. I've arranged for
breakfast and lunch to be served. I've scheduled someone to give daily massages
and an aide will stop by several times.”
“Jamie…”
“Don't
argue, Lee. It's just for three or four days at most. Then you can go home. I'm
not worried about the sore muscles, you’ve managed much worse. However, the
lungs and eyes do need to be watched. Also, until the collar comes off, no
lifting or driving. Once your vision is back to normal, I'll release you to
light duty. That means you stay behind your desk.”
As
Lee struggled to get out of the car’s backseat, he saw the wisdom of the
doctor’s orders. He allowed himself to be settled into a high-back chair with a
small pillow behind his back. Harry brought him a mug of coffee plus a sandwich
and cookies. He turned the radio on to keep Lee company and left for his office,
not wanting the battle of wills to start again. Jamie stayed for a short time
checking on Lee's eyes and lungs and then also left, knowing how much Lee hated
being fussed over.
Not
hungry, Lee drank the coffee and munching on a cookie, thought over the last
couple of days. Chip and Lee had been discussing Chip's six weeks TAD
assignment to Hawaii. Lee had teased him about being gone during an upgrade to Seaview, knowing how serious he was in regards to his duties as executive officer. Chip, on the
other hand, ribbed Lee about who would come to his rescue when his Cobra broke
down every other week. Lee couldn’t say much since his beloved red sports car
was in the shop at the moment. Yesterday morning Fred had picked them both up
in an Institute car, dropping Chip at the airport and then going on with Lee to retrieve his car. It was on the way to
the garage that the accident had happened. He probably should call and let his
pal know what had happened to him. Lee could just hear Chip now, ragging on how
the minute he let Lee out of his sight something like this happened.
*****
Jamie’s
diagnosis was correct; Lee was back in his office in three days, diving into
the paperwork waiting for him, grateful to be back to work, if only for limited
duty. He promised never to complain about the never ending and boring reports
from Dr. Leonard's grant requests again, well, at least not for a couple weeks.
At 1300 Admiral Nelson just happened to show up at Lee's door, and hustled him
off to lunch.
Disobeying
the doctor’s orders, he had stayed until 2000, and now, sitting on the patio
watching the sunset, Lee was surprised how the first day back had worn him out.
A hot shower before bed would help the sore muscles. Tomorrow he would abide by
the eight-hour rule, he might even arrange for another massage mid-day to help
loosen up his body from all the sitting around.
The
next two weeks went by quickly, almost uneventfully, filled with the tedious
chore of managing the increasing amount of paperwork that landed on his desk.
His physical activities now included daily
inspections of the work aboard Seaview.
Finally, the foam collar was discarded and he was declared fit for duty.
With
the modifications complete on Seaview
and the rest of the crew returning soon Lee
worked with O'Brian to set up a training schedule, intending to get all the
sonar and radar techs up to speed on the ungraded systems as soon as
possible. Past incidents where an
undertrained crewmember was forced to take over a station supported his plan.
The remodeling work in Sick Bay did not call for any additional training, but
it did make for one happy CMO. After getting a coffee refill, the captain
signed off on the schedule and turned his attention to his calendar.
The
annual charity ballgame was five days away and
NIMR teams would need more practice. Charity or not, his men didn't like
losing. Too bad Chip wouldn't be returning for another four weeks, in the past
he had made a great first baseman. This year Lee elected to manage instead of
play, with Sharkey taking charge of the second team. The institute’s teams
would each play the Santa Barbara Fire Department or Police Department's squads
with the winners competing for the trophy. Lee went to work on his lineup and
had just finished penciling Kowalski in at the cleanup spot when his secretary buzzed
the intercom.
“Commander,
Admiral Johnson is here to see you.”
“Admiral
Johnson? Thank you, Susan. I'll be right
out.” Lee quickly straightened his tie and grabbed his coat, putting it on as
he walked towards the door.
What the hell is
he doing here? Does he even know I'm just off limited duty? He can't possibly
expect me to go on an assignment, can he?
Lee
walked into the reception room of the NIMR office spaces. Standing at one of the expansive windows was
a man in Service Dress Whites, facing outside.
The uniform fit snugly on the medium-sized frame. As he pivoted around, he revealed a head
covered by short white hair. His thin,
hawk-like nose sat above a medium-sized mouth.
Lee knew that in the turning Admiral Johnson had scrutinized every
corner of the room with his hooded blue eyes, including a swift, appraising
glance at Bonnie, the Institute’s personable Receptionist. This was confirmed by the daggers-like look
she was giving back to Johnson.
He
forced himself to give the usual greeting.
“Admiral Johnson, it's a pleasure to see you. What can I do for you,
sir?”
“Well,
Commander, I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd drop by and see how you're
doing after your accident.”
“I'm
fine, sir. Would you like to come into my office? Can I get you a cup of
coffee?”
“No
coffee. In fact Crane, I need to speak to you about a matter that just came up
and decided to do it in person.”
Lee
opened the door for the senior officer then followed him inside. “As I was saying, there is something I want
to tell you personally.”
“Could
it be because you knew Admiral Nelson was out of the office today, Admiral?”
“Can't
put anything past you, can I, Crane.” The sarcastic tone was obvious. “I have a new
assignment for you.”
“Sir,
with all due respect, I just returned to full duty.”
“No
worries, it's not dangerous or strenuous, just paying a social call on an old
friend. Well, sit down man; I don’t have all day to explain this to you.” He
waited until Lee settled behind his desk.
“We received a communication from your old friend Professor von Kempner
requesting a meeting with you. He said he had information he didn't trust
giving to anyone else. You are aware the professor has been living quietly in
Germany the last four years due to increasing health problems. You kept up your relationship with him for
several years, haven't you? I believe you met him at the Academy.”
Lee
took a few seconds before replying to think back about the last time he had
seen his old professor. They had met
during Lee’s first year at the Academy, when the German, famous for his work in
applied physics, had spent the school year teaching on a visiting
fellowship. “Yes, sir. Since then we’ve
met several times and have exchanged letters and e-mails on a somewhat regular
basis. He was well enough to make a
short trip to New York last year, and I had dinner with him. He didn’t look well, and I was afraid it
would be for the last time. Did he give any indication of what he needed to
talk to me about? Why not call? He could arrange a secure line with our
consulate.”
“The
message said the professor thinks he is being watched and won't risk leaving
his house. I'm sure he's imagining things. Although brilliant, the man hasn't
been active in research for several years. I can't believe he has anything of
importance to tell us. I feel we owe him the courtesy of you seeing him. If
nothing else, it will give you a chance to say goodbye. My source tells me he
doesn't have much longer to live.”
Lee
was shocked by the sentimental comments coming out of the ONI director’s mouth.
Usually he didn't appear to care about
anything or anyone unless it affected the result of a mission. Nevertheless,
Lee didn't hesitate with his answer; he was very fond of the old man who he saw
as a favorite uncle.
“What's
my cover and when do I leave?”
“You
go as yourself, a friend paying his respects.”
“And
if he really has something?”
“Use
the consulate to relay anything or use their diplomatic pouch. However, I don't
think anything will come of the meeting. His doctors said von Kempner’s mind
has been affected by his illness.” The admiral tossed a packet on the desk. “My aide has arranged your flight and other
travel information, you leave tomorrow.
He still lives in Bitburg, you’ll fly into Frankfurt.”
“Yes,
sir. I just need to inform Admiral Nelson.” And convince him there wasn't
anything risky about this trip. Lee knew he had better have all his arguments
ready for that conversation. “Is there
anything else I need to know, sir? Has there been any indication of terrorist
movement in Germany?”
“No,
all indicators show normal. I have a plane to catch, give my regards to Harry
when he returns this evening. And do tell
him not to be such an old worrywart, this is a simple assignment. Do you good
to do some sightseeing, Commander.”
After
Admiral Johnson left, Lee called his secretary into the office to dictate
several letters. Ordering O'Brien away from inspecting the work on Seaview, the captain spent the next hour
going over items that needed handling in Lee's absence. He had time before
Nelson's return to go shopping for a gift bottle of California wine to take to
von Kempner. There was a long-standing private joke between the two that they
called the Battle of the Vines, and he would need something special to win over
his old friend. He finally chose an
Alexander Valley Silver Oak Cabernet Sauvignon, a superb California wine.
As
he predicted, the conversation with the admiral didn't go as smoothly as he had
hoped, but Lee finally convinced Nelson there was no danger in just visiting a dying friend and reassure his
distressed and wandering mind. Besides, as Admiral Johnson pointed out, he
could do some relaxing sightseeing while he was in Germany, relating an urge to tour one of that country’s many castles.
At that Nelson laughed, telling him to look out for ghosts. He had heard some
of those old castles’ dungeons were haunted.
*****
Lee
arrived at his hotel very early but without incident. The nine-hour time
difference and 12-hour flight to Frankfurt had been tiring, since he could
never sleep on airplanes. First things first -- he’d take a nap.
Upon awakening, he
called von Kempner to let him know of his arrival and was invited to a late
lunch at the professor's home. After a shower and fresh change of clothes to a
pair of slacks and comfortable polo shirt, Lee was ready to visit his friend.
He walked the short
distance to the professor's house where an attractive young woman answered the
door and showed him into the living room. Lee was shocked at
how much the professor had aged since last he saw him. His hands trembled on
the blanket covering his knees as he sat in the wheelchair. Hair that had
once been black, fading to a steel grey was now almost gone. He had lost
weight and his shrunken skin had an unhealthy pallor to it. Perhaps most
distressing was seeing him confined to the chair; Lee remembered a straight
back, almost military posture during the many walks they'd taken during
their discussions. At least a couple of things hadn't changed; those
weren't crow's feet but laugh lines around sea blue eyes that still
twinkled, and there was a broad smile on his face, as if to say he would
not be beaten down by his infirmity.
“Guten Tag, Herr Professor! Es ist schön, dich nach so langer Zeit zu sehen.”
“Ja, it has been a long time since we have seen each other! But
you are so busy; it is verständlich, understandable, no? I am so happy you were able to visit me. I
was afraid you might be out sailing the seven seas in that magnificent Seaview. You have been well since we
last met?”
“I'm
fine, sir. They tell me you have been ill, but to me you look very spry. Maybe
you just wanted that pretty Fraulein to fuss over you.” Lee keep the tone
light, even if his heart wasn't.
“You
always had an eye for the beautiful ladies, Lee. Sadly, you were told the truth
about my health, but let's not talk about that. Come, sit down, the food will
be ready very shortly. Perhaps a glass of Riesling before lunch?”
“Speaking
of wine, I have something for you.” Lee handed the bottle to von Kempner.
“I
see you haven't forgotten how much I enjoy your California wines. We'll save
this for later. Now, tell me about some of your great adventures under the sea.”
The
next two hours were spent over a leisurely lunch of Sauerbraten and Noodles, filled
with much talk as the two friends caught up. Professor von Kempner finished his
strudel and looked purposefully at Lee.
“I think it is best we continue our conversation in my study. I'm
afraid the walls may have ears.”
The elderly man wheeled himself into the room. After making sure
Lee closed the door behind them, he removed a large package wrapped in brown
paper from a wall safe.
“Each day I spend more and more time in this wheelchair but what
is more disheartening is my mind is betraying me, my friend. Maybe I am
imagining things; my mind could be playing tricks on me. I have noticed objects
being moved just slightly, a picture hangs a bit off center as if someone keeps
searching for something.
Helga, my housekeeper has been with me since I brought my bride home 50 years
ago. I trust her, but others come several times a week, the health care agency
keeps sending different people, and I know nothing about them.”
“What
could they be looking for? I thought you gave up working?”
“A
mind never stops working, my young man. Perhaps they want a lifetime of
memories. That's what is in the package, a copy of a manuscript
about my life's work. I want you to see it safely into the right hands.” von
Kempner placed the bundle on Lee's lap. “Now,
let's have a toast with your California wine, and we can see if your palate has
improved. I know you are a beer or scotch man from our dinners with Admiral
Nelson but it pleases me you still enjoy fine wines.”
“I
have you to thank for that part of my education. The Riesling at lunch was
excellent.”
“It
is from my cousin’s winery in Hessische-Bergstrasse. He sends me a case every
year. I have eight bottles left of the vintage we had with our meal. I confess
to drinking three of them while working on my book. When I'm gone, I have arranged
for them to be shipped to you, as a final token of my friendship.”
“Herr
Professor, that hopefully is a long way off.” How I wish that was true.
“No,
Lee, my doctor has kindly stopped evading the truth. I have very little time
left. Now that I have seen you, I will rest easier knowing everything is in
your capable hands. Remember the first time we met, you had so many questions?
I told you never to stop questioning, to always look for the hidden truths, in
science or in life. Always keep searching; you will be surprised at what you
can find. Things are not always as they seem at first glance. You should always
keep searching until you get to the root of your problems.”
“As
my job on Seaview can attest. Sir, is
there anything else I can do for you? Would you like to go out for dinner
tonight, or a short stroll, the weather is very
nice?” Why didn't I try harder to pay him
a visit on my last leave? I knew he was ill. I could've easily given up one day
to spend time with a man who always made time to answer my questions.
“No,
no I think it best you leave the country quickly, if someone is really watching
me, you might be in danger.”
“Don't
worry. I'll return to my hotel and arrange for a car to take me to Frankfurt.
This manuscript is going right into the diplomatic pouch at the consulate.”
“It
might be safer if I call for a taxi to take you directly there, and not return
to your room with it.”
“Don't
bother, I don't think I'll be in danger during the short walk. I made no secret
when I arrived that I was just visiting a
long-time friend that was ill.”
“Please
my friend, humor me. I don't wish to put you in harm's way.”
Lee
really didn't see the need for all the cloak and dagger. He was saddened to see
how far such a brilliant mind had faded, filled now with imaginary fears. What could be in the manuscript? Most of the
professor’s scientific discoveries had already been published, or in many
cases, implemented by the American military. In fact, many countries have
benefited from von Kempner’s brilliant mind. Not wanting to cause his companion
further distress, Lee agreed to the taxi, first placing a call to Frankfurt to
alert them of his late arrival.
While
waiting they enjoyed a last glass of wine together. He wished he could stay
longer but the professor was very anxious to see the manuscript safely
away. Possibly after all that was taken
care of, he would have a chance to return and they could spend the day
together.
When
Lee's ride arrived, the professor arose from the wheelchair and shakily walked
the few steps to the front door, wanting to say his goodbyes standing on his
own two feet.
“Auf Wiedersehen, mein jungur Freund. Möge Gott über dich wachen.”
“Danke, Professor.”
So far he hadn't needed God's protection on this trip. He couldn't say the same
for many of the other times he'd spent in Europe. At least this trip was
different.
Lee
impulsively hugged the man whose friendship he had enjoyed for many years,
promising to call upon his return to the hotel. As the taxi drove off, Lee
leaned out of the window for a final wave, somehow he had the feeling this
might be the last time he would see his friend.
Chapter 2
Giving
the driver his destination, Lee settled back to enjoy the view. The town of
Bitburg was very picturesque and full of old-fashioned charm. There wasn't much
traffic now on the road, only two or three cars including the black SUV behind
them. One couldn’t evade that type of vehicle no matter where you were.
He
was happy he could bring comfort to his friend, even though he didn't believe
much of what the professor had told him. Admiral Johnson had relayed what the
doctor had said, and Lee had observed moments when von Kempner appeared to lose
track of their conversation. The crooked picture and moved objects were
probably imagined or simply caused by someone bumping against the wall. It
would cost Lee nothing but some of his time to travel to Frankfurt and send the
manuscript back to Washington. Let the paper pushers enjoy themselves reading
through it. When he returned he would ask for a copy, he had promised to read
it while drinking the professor's Riesling.
Lee
was jolted out of his thoughts when the SUV appeared alongside the taxi,
forcing it down a darkened alleyway, blocking the entrance as the taxi stopped.
Lee barely had time to open his door when two armed men yanked him out of the
vehicle, slamming him against the hood and frisked him. They grabbed his
passport, hotel key card and wallet, and then
removed his cell phone making sure it was turned off. Lee was hustled into the
back of the larger car and roughly handcuffed with his arms behind his back.
Still not satisfied, the men secured Lee's ankles with manacles bolted to the
floor.
“We
were warned about your talents for escaping Commander Crane, we're not taking
any chances,” the bigger of the two men growled. “Have Heinrich return to the
hotel and check out our passenger. Make sure he dresses up in a business suit
and say Mr. Crane was called home because of an emergency. With the key card he
shouldn't have any trouble getting Crane’s stuff. Here, use the money from the
commander’s wallet, a generous tip for their troubles will ensure no awkward
questions.”
“What's
going on? You’ve got my wallet; I don't have anything else of value on me.”
Ignoring
the protests, the kidnapper made sure his comrade left to instruct the cabbie,
and then turned his attention back to Lee. He ripped open the wrapped package
he had taken from the taxi’s backseat. “What do we have here?”
Lee
didn't answer, and was rewarded by a vicious backhanded slap across the face.
The heavy ring on the man's hand caused Lee's bottom lip to split, dripping
blood down his chin.
The
driver, who had just returned, jerked his head around and yelled, “Lay off him,
Karl, you know the orders were no rough stuff.” He tossed back a small pack of
tissues from the glove box. “Here, uses this to clean up the blood.”
With
a not too gentle touch, Karl wiped the blood off Lee's chin and pressed against
the open cut. Lee tried not to wince at the discomfort, knowing it would give
satisfaction.
“Here
Johann, catch,” Karl said, tossing the Kleenex back to the driver. The SUV
backed out of the alleyway and drove away, careful not to attract any
attention.
“There,
all nice and clean. Now, I asked you a question, Crane. What is so vital it necessitates
a late night visit to your consulate? Wondering how we knew, well, the taxi is
wired. We've used it in the past for special people. Now, what’s so important
about this bundle of papers?”
“It's
nothing, I promised to send an old friend’s manuscript to a publisher I know.”
“From
the US Consulate in Frankfurt – I don't think so. Never mind, Commander. I have
my instructions. Sit back and relax because you're going to see another old
acquaintance. He was surprised to hear you're in Germany, let alone Bitburg.
Since you were so close, he wanted to invite you to his place for a little
reunion.”
“I
don't know anyone else in this country. Your employer must have mistaken me for
someone else. Let me go, and I won't call the police -- this is just a little misunderstanding,
no one has been seriously hurt.”
“Please
don't insult my intelligence. We know who you are and my employer, as you call
him, is quite anxious to find out why you are here. You think it over while you
are enjoying the ride.”
Lee
tested the handcuffs but they were very sturdy as were the leg restraints.
During the silent drive, he racked his brain over who could have engineered his
capture. It was quite professional and boded no good that his guards weren't
worried about showing their faces. A sign they weren't afraid he would be alive
to identify them. Admiral Johnson had assured him there was no activity in the
area; it appeared once more ONI Intel was faulty.
Even
though he didn't have his watch, Lee's sense of timing told him they had traveled
approximate fifteen minutes on the high-speed freeway, when the SUV turned off
the autobahn. He attempted to read the road signs to determine where they were
headed.
“Sorry,
Crane, it's lights out for you.” A cloth hood was placed over his head preventing
him from seeing anything further.
After
a while, he could feel the car starting to climb. The car came to a stop and by the sound of
it, two more men met them. Lee was willing to bet that both were heavily armed.
After freeing his ankles, Lee was pulled from the SUV and propelled towards the
building followed closely by all four men. Once inside his hood was torn off
his head, the light causing him to blink a couple times. A barrel chested man
with an impressive mustache greeted him and Lee could see the muscular arms
straining at the jacket seams. It looked like he was going to have difficulty
escaping from any of these men. The chill Lee felt running through his body had
nothing to do with the drafty cold room he was in.
“Please
follow me, there's a fire in the other room.”
Having
no choice Lee followed the henchman into the welcoming warmth of the larger
room, and then heard the heavy door close behind him. He couldn't help but look
around appreciating the grandeur of the room. Large tapestries hung from the stone
walls while heavy metal standing oil lamps provided most of the light. Besides
a couch, there were several large chairs with sturdy arms, just the type to be
firmly bound to for questioning. He wondered if there were other rooms with
modern day conveniences, or if the castle was a tourist attraction.
The metal-banded ancient wooden doors opened once again, and five
men entered. Four were his kidnappers. The fifth, who had paused at
the open door as if he expected applause, was William Decker. Lee went
cold inside.
William Decker was tall and aristocratic looking. His
slicked back, blonde hair was thick and well-cared for, the ends curling up
slightly at the neck, just touching the top of his Italian silk shirt. He
was very slim, probably around six feet tall, well proportioned under the
designer suit. He stood straight, settled on his feet, calmly looking at
Lee with a half-smile on his face, the lips full and sensuous. Long
lashes and arching brows framed dark eyes. The eyes were as Lee
remembered them, round and dark and bottomless. No light entered or
emanated from them, and Lee knew they reflected the evil inside the man, the
depravity hidden inside that no amount of expensive clothing could hide.
Decker had demonstrated his malevolency before; Lee was well aware of the man’s
capacity for causing terror and fear.
“Well, well what do we have here? Commander Crane, captain of the
great Seaview and ONI agent extraordinaire.”
“Decker! What the hell are you doing in Germany?” Lee blurted
out the name in shock, and then his training kicked in enabling him to control
his facial expressions. That instant, flashbacks from his treatment by the
psychopath entered his head as he fought to keep his breathing normal. However,
nothing could stop the feeling of dread that came over him; of all his enemies
to be in the clutches of, Decker was the worst.
“Your
ONI doesn't know everything. Sorry I can't give you the grand tour of the
Moselle Valley. I’m sure you’d enjoy their wine. Speaking of that, where's my
manners.” He made an elegant gesture. “Please bring our guest a goblet of wine,
he looks thirsty. You will be sure to
enjoy it, it is one of our best Spatburgunder, our Pinot Noir.”
When
the butler presented the tray, Lee shrugged his shoulders. “I'm afraid you have
me at a disadvantage Decker, it appears my hands are tied.”
“My,
my how forgetful of me. Please remove the handcuffs from our honored guest,
Frederick. The least we can do is make him comfortable during our little chat.
Now Lee -- I can call you Lee, can't I? We have such an interesting past
together I feel we should be on a first name basis. I mean, what's a few million dollars that you have cost me,
between friends.”
Lee
picked up one of the wineglasses and without drinking, held it up to toast the
other man. “My pleasure, Decker. Next time I hope to send you to hell.”
Decker
raised his to answer the toast. “I'm sorry my friend, this time it's you that
will be going to the fires of hell.” With that, he emptied his glass, smashing
it in to the flames.
Lee
calmly drained his drink. “Always a little dramatic, aren't you, Decker? Why
have you brought me here?”
“It's
very simple Lee, I get paid for information and I think you have something that
will bring me money. One of my men saw you deplane. I was immediately curious
as to why you're here and ordered you be followed. You showed up at Professor
von Kempner’s house with what looked like a bottle of wine, and left with a
large flat package. Care to tell me what it is? Or do I have to become
unpleasant, not that I would really mind.”
“I
told your goons, it’s simply an autobiography written by a dying man. I
promised I would try to get it published for him. No big espionage mission,
just trying to do one last favor for a friend.”
Decker
shook his head in mock disapproval. “My dear boy, I'm disappointed in your
refusal to cooperate. I had hoped to keep this civilized.” Decker signaled to
the four guards. “See if you can persuade the commander to change his mind. You
can find me in my study reading some of the professor’s memoirs if he decides
to oblige you. Suddenly I'm interested to see what the old man has to say.”
Before
Decker could make it completely out of the room, the men started in on Lee.
They did it the old-fashioned way -- with their fists. While one held Lee's
arms tightly behind his back, the others took turns working him over, mostly
with blows to the stomach and ribs. After several minutes, Johann sharply
brought up his knee between Lee's legs.
Groaning,
he dropped to the stone floor when the man
suddenly released his hold. Carefully taking shallow breaths in and out,
knowing his ribs would protest anything deeper, Lee hoped for a brief rest. The
pain from his other injuries washed over him as he tried to keep his mind
clear, looking for any chance to escape.
Frederick
brought in steins of beer, and stayed to join in on the fun. As the others
finished their drinks, the manservant struck the first blow, yelling at Lee to
stand up.
He
gingerly rolled himself up to his knees, placing his palms on the cold floor to
aid him in rising. The heavy boot made a solid connection with Lee’s already
bruised ribs, causing him to cry out from the sudden attack. He curled into a
ball holding his right arm over his injured side and raised his left arm over
his head realizing what was coming. The kicks delivered several blows to his
back and to the rest of his body. Surprisingly, the only place not being attacked
was his head, although he now had a bloody nose and a huge bruise on his cheek
from an awkward blow.
As
swiftly as the kicking started, it stopped. Two of the men hauled Lee to his
feet and shoved him into one of the solidly built chairs. Karl took delight in
backhanding Lee numerous times, causing a larger split in his lip sending blood
flowing down his chin.
“Care
to tell me about those papers? We can keep this up all night, Commander.”
“I
keep telling you, there's nothing in the manuscript that the world doesn't know
already.”
Lee
figured he knew what to expect, having dealt with Decker twice before. The
first meeting was in Australia when he had the misfortune of being captured by
the sadistic mercenary. After several hours of questioning and beatings by two
of Decker's men, he spent 24 hours in a cell without
food or drink. The pattern repeated itself for several days with increasing
viciousness until one of the guards got careless and Lee escaped. In his
weakened state, it took some time before he was able to reach the authorities,
and Decker managed to escape, but without the plans for the invention Lee had
hidden. The second meeting was in Russia, where Lee rescued two scientists. He
was successful, but only to a degree. The two men were so brutalized by Decker
interrogation methods they were never able to work again. He was sure if he had
gotten to the chemists a day or two later, they would have given the mercenary
the formula they had perfected.
He
had never taken Decker to be German, in fact, all Intel pointed to a Russian or
Slavic background. Even his speech had a slight Russian accent, which now Lee
knew to be bogus. He should have recognized
the Aryan features that pointed towards a Germanic heritage. Lee had tried over
the past couple years to locate his center of operations without success. One
thing he did know: the man had never operated in Western Europe. Now Lee knew the reason; Decker needed to
protect his home base.
He
hoped he could withstand what was coming; he feared the sadist would soon be
demanding information about Seaview's
weapons and capabilities. That information would bring a high price on the open
market.
With
more beating and harsh treatment coming, his weakened condition would make any
breakout difficult. His best hope would
be to try not to tense up and roll with the punches to avoid as much damage as
possible and take advantage of any openings. Hoping people would already be
looking for him, he just had to tough it out until help came or he could affect
an escape on his own.
****
In
his study, William Decker enjoyed a martini, stirred not shaken like the
fictional British spy. He glanced at his watch, his men would soon be finished
warming up his prisoner. Decker knew Crane would not give out any information
from a simple beating, but he relished the idea of the pain the American was
experiencing.
The guards had specific instructions beforehand of no blows to the head. He
wanted his prisoner fully aware of what was happening, free from any
disorientating concussion.
The
last two meetings with Crane had ended badly for him, both times narrowly
escaping capture. His business dealings had suffered, losing him millions in
fees from clients. His reputation had also suffered from the failure to fulfill
his part of the bargain.
Now
he was determined to get his revenge. He had the means at hand, thanks to the work
of a scientist he’d dealt with before. Acquiring the research material from
another project the man had worked on, Decker had sold it to the highest
bidder. The compound he’d appropriated and kept for his own use had proven
effective in a past interrogation. Decker was anticipating using it on the smug
ONI operator in the next room. For once, he didn't care if he was successful in
obtaining any information. His desire was to break Lee Crane, and ruining him
so he would never be able to command even a toy submarine. He didn't want Crane
dead, that would be too easy, too quick, but to suffer the rest of his life
with no one willing to entrust even the simplest job to a half-crazed man.
His
agent in Washington, DC had travelled to Santa Barbara and to obtain the needed
information for part of Crane's programming. The drugs and the electrical
equipment were on hand. Those items in combination with the chemical compound
would be all that he needed to accomplish his revenge. In two weeks, Commander
Lee Crane would be a hollow shell of himself.
Finishing his drink with a final check to his
watch, Decker left his study. The first beating would just be the start of his
foe’s downfall.
Chapter 3
Admiral
Harriman Nelson, world-renowned scientist and inventor, pored over the papers
on his desk. The reputation of the Institute was at stake. One mistake could be
disastrous. He reread the list and with a decisive stroke of his pencil,
changed the speedier Patterson from left field to center, allowing Sparks to
man that now vacant position.
Satisfied
with the lineup, the admiral picked up his baseball cap and made his way to the
field. With Lee out of town, he was taking his place as manager this year.
Nelson had joked that one could hear Will’s sigh of relief all the way from the
med center. In fact, the doctor had a batting helmet printed with MANAGER on it
intending to present it to Lee before the game. He planned to insist Crane wear
it, just in case a foul ball made its way into the dugout. Lee was a trouble
magnet no matter where he was. With his trip to Germany to see his friend,
there would be no way that Lee could run into trouble at the game.
The
organizer had arranged to use the high school ball field. Angie claimed she had
ordered the 80° sunny weather, saying it was her job as head cheerleader. Nelson had been looking forward to the annual
charity ballgame. Although his taste usually ran to more gourmet offerings, on
this warm summer afternoon he could almost taste the spicy hot dogs on his
lips, to be washed down with an ice-cold beer.
There
was already a crowd watching the players warm up, with friends and family
taking pictures and videos of their loved ones. One man in particular was
shooting numerous players with a camcorder and taking digital pictures. When
the camera was pointed towards him, Harry self-consciously removed his hat, not
wanting to be pictured in what he felt was an undignified manner.
The
umpire called both managers to home plate for the starting lineups. Nelson's
team had drawn the Santa Barbara policemen's team and after shaking hands with
the police lieutenant, the game was on. Throwing out the first pitch was a
special guest, Admiral Jiggs Starke. Nelson laughed, he was sure this would be
one part of the game Lee wouldn't mind missing.
The
first team trounced their opponents 13 to 0, due to O'Brien’s superb pitching.
The other Seaview team managed by
Chief Sharkey squeaked by the fire department 2 to 1, setting up a match
between Nelson and Sharkey. After enjoying a picnic lunch, the two teams played
for the championship. There was a bit of a dustup when Riley brushed back
Kowalski, who had homered the last time up. When order was restored, Nelson
team continued with the hot bats, outscoring Sharkey's players 9 to 4.
Admiral
Nelson went searching for Jiggs whom he had seen walking away from the cheering
mob with his cell phone pressed to his ear. That man was as bad as Lee,
couldn't even enjoy a couple days of R&R without contacting his office. They
had already gotten into a heated argument over an officer who had served under
both of them and was now facing dismissal from his command. He was of the opinion that Admiral Bernardi should
never have been given the job.
Grabbing two cold beers, Harry made his way
over to Starke, reaching him just as Jiggs disconnected his call.
“Jiggs,
put that blasted phone away and behave yourself, you’re on leave. Here, drink
while it's still cold.” Harry really had enjoyed himself today and was
determined his friend was going to do the same.
“Let's
go someplace a little quieter, Harry. I
need to talk to you.”
Nelson
could tell from Starke’s face that this was going to be bad news. They found a
shady spot away from the celebration. Harry leaned against a tree, finishing
off the beer, not really tasting it as it went down. He steeled himself,
dreading what was to come.
“That
was Admiral Johnson on the phone. It seems Crane never made it to the consulate
to drop off a package from Professor von Kempner. No one has seen him since he
left the professor’s house.”
The
minute he heard Johnson’s name, Nelson's stomach clenched in fear. He slammed
the empty bottle to the grass, letting out a string of swear words that
impressed even an old salt like Starke.
“I knew it, I just knew it. A ‘simple social
visit to an old friend’, my ass! What was he really involved in, and why didn't
Johnson call me direct?”
“Calm
down, Harry. Bill swore Crane shouldn't have been in any danger. No one
believed the professor had something anyone wanted to steal. An ONI agent is being
recalled from the Czech Republic to investigate. As for not calling you, from
past experience he knew you would take off his head.”
“I
don't believe Bill Johnson is so worried about Lee that he's bringing in
someone to look for him, that's not his normal modus operandi. Something's up,
so spill it, Jiggs.” He hated being so far away and needing to rely on the ONI
to help Lee.
“Look
Harry, Johnson's just--” Jiggs stopped talking after looking at Nelson's face. “All
right, the truth is the agent’s orders aren't to find Crane, but to discover if
there are any covert operations starting up in Germany. They think Lee might
have stumbled across something and got into trouble.”
It
had been a while since he was this angry. “That sounds like Johnson, hanging
Lee out to dry. Well, it's not going to happen. Seaview will be ready to sail by morning. When was Lee last heard
from? I'll start there, and tear apart the entire country if I have to. Damn,
what a time for Morton to be TAD to Pearl!”
“Don't
worry about your XO, I'll contact Pearl and get him here. You concern yourself
about getting ready to shove off. I don't like that boy’s command style or your
close relationship with him, but I don't want to see him hurt any more than you
do. One good thing, I know the man who’s going to Germany, he's a friend of
your captain. My bet, he'll be looking as hard for Lee as he would any enemy
agents.”
Nelson
tightened his fists. Impatient for answers, he wanted to take his anger out on
someone. “How long has Lee been missing? Could his car just have broken down or
been in an accident? Where was he going after leaving von Kempner? Well, answer
me!”
“Take a breath Harry, and give me a chance.
Crane was going to Frankfurt. ONI contacted hospitals and the police, nothing.”
Nelson
was breathing fire, and didn't care if his longtime friend was singed. “Exactly
when did Lee disappear? Tell me Johnson has the police looking for a ‘lost
tourist!’”
“From
what the professor said, it's been over 24 hours since he put Crane into the
taxi in front of his house. And yes, the local police have started a search for
him. No cab companies have reported any missing drivers.”
Admiral
Nelson quickly made a list in his head in order of importance. “I'll be the one
calling Morton to break the news, not you. If you want to help, find O'Brien
and have him meet me in my office. But first, tell him to have Sharkey quietly
round up the men and report to Seaview
as soon as possible, ready to ship out.”
Nelson
hurried to his car without giving Jiggs a chance to answer. Jiggs might not
like being ordered about, but that didn’t matter in the least now.
How
many more times were they going to come to Lee's rescue? Would this time be the
one where they would be too late? It had been less than a year ago since he’d revealed
his involvement as a young Lee Crane's guardian and mentor. They'd worked hard
to keep their relationship from interfering with their command structure. Times
like this strained that resolve. The man he considered his son was missing and
Harry would move heaven and earth to find him.
At the nearly deserted
Institute, the duty secretary was surprised to see Admiral Nelson back. She
grabbed her pad and followed him into the office, rapidly taking down orders.
Returning to her desk, she placed the call to Hawaii and got Chip Morton on the
line, before carrying out the rest of her instructions.
“Mr. Morton I need you
to return ASAP. Crane is in trouble again, missing in Germany.”
Hearing the news, Chip
couldn't help a quick intake of breath, followed by a long and exasperated
sigh, one that held a lifetime of emotions. “Can you tell me what happened,
Admiral? All the skipper told me was he
was taking a couple days leave to visit a friend.”
“ONI sent him to
Germany.” The admiral quickly filled in the XO with the rest of the story,
finishing with the fact of Lee's disappearance.
“Sir, may I suggest you
send Kowalski to pick me up with the flying sub. The two of us can proceed to
Germany. If you contact Admiral Johnson and let him know we’re coming, he might
be able to arrange a meeting with his agent. Ski and I could start our search
right away. It will take Seaview
seven to eight days to arrive; the trail will be cold by then.”
“Very well, Mr. Morton,
excellent idea. I'm also sending Patterson. Get packed, I'll contact you with
the ETA. And Chip, I know you'll find him.”
“Yes, sir, you can be
sure of that, but in what shape?”
Nelson recognized the
strain in Chip’s voice. Both men needed to keep things on a professional level.
First things first, get the rescue operation in motion, and then their personal
concerns could be addressed. Nelson was sure Chip was as worried as he was, but
both men’s training was so ingrained, it enabled them to outwardly ignore
anything else.
O'Brien came in and was
given his orders. The next several hours were filled with a flurry of activity,
and numerous pots of coffee being drunk. By early morning, all was in
readiness.
Nelson and Lieutenant
O'Brien were waiting by the charting table as Sharkey came into the control
room. “Crew’s all accounted for, sirs. Admiral Nelson, Mr. O'Brien, we're ready
to shove off.”
O'Brien started to say
something then stopped.
There was a look in his
eye that Nelson recognized immediately. “You're
in command, Mr. O'Brien. Go ahead.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” He turned to Chief Sharkey and gestured
upwards. “I’m taking her out Chief. Make all preparations to get underway and
I’ll see you on the Bridge. We've got
work to do.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Seaview slipped silently from her moorings, each man alert at his station,
knowing any mistake on his part could delay their voyage, and possibly cost the
skipper his life.
*****
Chip was anxiously
waiting for the flying sub's arrival at Pearl Harbor. He had asked for and
received permission to meet the craft at the old airstrip on Ford Island.
Waiting with him was a young petty officer who was in charge of a large cooler
filled with sandwiches. Sitting alongside were a couple of thermoses. According to
the petty officer, Admiral Starke had made his wishes known to the base CO that the men
from Seaview were to get priority
treatment, anything they needed they got.
After the initial phone
call from Nelson, he’d gone off on a tirade. It seemed impossible that Lee
would accept another assignment so soon after returning to full duty. After
cooling down, Chip accepted the fact he too would have done the same,
considering the relationship between the professor and Lee.
Chip had spoken to
Admiral Nelson an hour ago. There was still no news. He knew it was irrational
to think there'd be any new developments in the past 60 minutes, but as the
saying went, hope springs eternal.
A high-pitched whine
filled the skies, and FS 1 emerged from the clouds. As Chip watched Kowalski expertly land the
craft, he picked up his one bag and hurried towards them. Patterson stowed the
luggage, while Ski moved over to the copilot seat. Chip thanked the young
rating as he handed over the cooler and the drinks while Ski entered the new coordinates
into the computer. Fifteen minutes later, they were airborne, heading towards
Germany.
Once the ship reached
the correct altitude, Chip set the autopilot, allowing him to speak with both
men without distractions.
“Sorry, Mr. Morton. I
was in radio contact with the Institute right before we landed. No news.
Admiral Nelson has arranged for an update every two hours. If you wish to speak
to him, they'll patch the call through to the admiral.”
“Thanks, Ski. Maybe
we'll get news to return to Santa Barbara, that the skipper's been found
unharmed.”
“I sure hope so, sir.
Ski and I were thinking maybe the captain changed his mind about the cab. Had
the driver drop him off at a rental place, thinking he could do some
sightseeing after his meeting. Skipper could've had car trouble; Admiral Nelson
said the police were asking about taxis. That's why they didn't find out
anything, they didn't check out car rentals. We should do that when we land.”
Looking at the eager
expressions on their faces, he hated to burst their bubble. Chip could see both Pat and Ski were trying
to find a reason why their captain hadn’t been heard from, however outlandish
their ideas were. He knew the two of them were hoping for a happy outcome from
this trip. Hell, he had dreamed up some wacky scenarios himself, including one
about meeting a ravishing beauty who swept Lee off his feet. However, Chip knew none of the ideas was
reasonable.
“I wish I could believe
that, Patterson. Unfortunately, it's been over 24 hours. Captain Crane would
have been able to get messages to von Kempner or the consulate by now. Unless
there was an accident and he is lying somewhere severely injured.”
Pat's face fell at this
unhappy news, and Ski looked like he’d received a punch in the stomach. Morton
knew it was up to him to present a positive attitude so he went into his XO
mode.
“There's no reason to
give up hope. You know the skipper has been in some pretty ugly situations and
gotten out of them. Hell, now that we're here, the bad guys won't stand a
chance.” He continued giving the pep talk, for himself as much as the other
men. “Once we land, I'll speak to Professor von Kempner and follow up any leads
he has. I wouldn't be surprised we don't find the skipper in the next 48 hours.
I won't tolerate any other outcome. Do I make myself clear, gentlemen? We will find Captain
Crane.” Chip softened his command face and spoke in a gentler tone. “We've
worked hard breaking in this captain and I have no intention of training
another. And the next time our illustrious captain leaves the boat, he'll be
tagged with a GPS device.”
“Yes, sir! Excellent
idea, Mr. Morton.”
Chip realized he had to
put on a confident face for Kowalski and Patterson, but he recognized the fact
Lee Crane could already be dead. With that unsettling thought, Chip returned to
the controls, turning off the autopilot. He needed to be doing something
physical, not just thinking about what could have happened.
*****
Every two hours the
calls came, always the same news, no new development, no sign of Captain Crane.
Admiral Nelson radioed when Seaview
left port and spoke to Chip.
“We'll continue to our
updates until you land at Spangdahlem. Then it'll be up to you to contact us.
We'll be running submerged, so contact Angie and she can relay any messages.”
“Aye, aye, sir. I plan to
speak to Professor von Kempner first thing. I'll let you know what I discover.”
“You’re meeting an agent
by the name of Gordon. He’ll be there at
0800 your time day after tomorrow in your hotel room. Admiral Johnson is
sending you a photograph, and Gordon will have one of you. We don't want any surprises. And
remember, no uniforms. We don't know who's involved in this.”
“Very well, Admiral,
I'll contact you afterwards. I won't let you down, sir.”
“Of that I can be very
sure, Mr. Morton. Seaview out.”
*****
SPANGDAHLEM AFB, GERMANY
Admiral Starke had arranged with base security to guard the flying
sub while Morton, Kowalski and Patterson searched for Crane. He even made sure
they had an inconspicuous German car, a VW Jetta, to move around in. Pat drove
the three the short distance to Bitburg and von Kempner’s house.
Helga Mueller, the
housekeeper, met them at the door. Her face was pale and drawn in the early
evening light. She was a little on the plump side from sampling her own baked
goods. She could be stern faced and sharp tongued when dealing with the
butcher who sold a tough piece of meat, then turn to a kindly grandmother
giving cookies to the neighborhood children. Today her blue eyes, usually
filled with laughter, held a sense of sadness. The black dress she wore
contrasted sharply with the grey-white braided twist of hair on top of her
head.
“Bitte, kommen Sie
Herren herein, the doctor has just left. Herr Professor had a very bad night,
it won't be long now.” She dropped her hand onto Chip’s arm. “We have heard
about Herr Crane. It is a terrible thing. I believe Herr Professor feels that
it is his fault. It has hastened the end, I have no doubt.”
“I'm sorry, Frau
Mueller. I'll try to be as quick as possible,” Chip promised as he was shown
into the bedroom.
Von Kempner was propped
up in bed with pillows behind his head, the pallor of a dying man about him. He
looked at Chip with his pain-filled eyes. “I knew it would be you, young man.
Nothing has changed between the two of you over the years.”
“No, sir, it hasn't. I
don't want to tire you, but can you tell me about Lee's visit? Anything he
might have said or did that seemed unusual.”
“Helga, you may leave.
See to our other guests.”
The woman fussed over
von Kempner's blankets then reluctantly left, giving Chip a warning look.
“My apologies, she’s
like a mother hen, worries about me too much.” He paused for a moment,
gathering his strength. “Our friend tried to act quite normally, but I knew he
didn't believe me. Some days I don't believe myself.” The professor’s breathing
was becoming more labored, but he pushed on. “I gave Lee my papers … he
promised … deliver them right away. I convinced… him to leave... take a taxi...
I watched him at the door... they drove towards Frankfurt… stood watching them
disappear.”
Chip hated to do it, but
he realized he was running out of time. He wouldn't have another chance. “Why?
Did you suspect someone was following them? Did you notice something
suspicious?”
“Nein, nein… sentimental
old man.” von Kempner's voice was very weak. “I wanted to keep him… in my
sight… as long as possible… last look… at Mein Freund.” He grabbed Chip's hand.
“I've held on until, until…” The dying man’s voice failed for a moment. Then
with a spike of energy, he managed to continue. “I passed on my message, he has
to understand, he has to.”
The professor closed his
eyes, exhausted, able only to draw shallow breaths. His hands dropped to his
side, his energy spent.
“What message, Professor
von Kempner?”
Drawing on his last
reserves, the professor spoke in a rambling manner, seemingly unable to focus
on anything. “Asked so many questions at lecture… put him in danger… liked Mein wein best… promised… someone
listening… so proud of Seaview’s
crew… keep book safe… Frau Mueller sending Der
Wein… what have I done… must keep searching… surprise what you'll find…
hidden… greatest discovery…” He locked his eyes onto Chip. “Save Dein Bruder… mein schuld. He... must understand... what I told him... er muss verstehem.”
“I'm sure he does,
professor, it’s not your fault. Rest and don't worry. I'll find him.” Chip
pulled up the quilt, and then silently walked towards the door, dejected. The
old professor had given him the beginnings of a grim idea. Had Lee realized
that a message had been passed on to him? Had von Kempner been clear enough?
Was Lee in danger because of something he didn't them know?
“BITAH, BITAH 992.” The voice from the bed was loud and
firm.
Chip quickly returned to
the bed to ask for an explanation, but he would never get it.
“Your work is over now,
but mine has just begun. I'll find him; I promise you Herr Professor, I'll find
Lee.”
He walked to the door
and opened it, and gestured to Helga and the others to come into the room. The
old housekeeper walked over to the bed, tears streaming down her face.
“Helga, I know this is a
bad time, but does the word Bitah sound familiar? What about the numbers 992,
do they mean anything to you?”
She looked confused. “Bitah…
nein, Herr Morton, it means nothing, could he have said bitte? Perhaps he was
asking you to please call a telephone number. Or he meant the beginning of an
address. I do not know. Please excuse me, I must call the doctor.”
*****
It was a subdued group
of men who checked into the hotel. Chip, while not as close to Professor von
Kempner as Lee, mourned the passing of a brilliant man. Lee had lost someone he
loved as family, something he had so little of.
Dammit Lee, where are you?
Dropping off their bags,
Patterson and Kowalski came in from the connecting room.
“What's our next move,
sir?”
“Agent Gordon is
supposed to meet me at 0800 to let me know what he's discovered, so nothing we
can do until that happens. After flying over 15 hours we need food and sleep.
The restaurant downstairs didn't look crowded, let's eat there and talk.”
They were seated in a
corner booth that afforded them some privacy. The pretty blonde waitress
brought a pitcher of beer and took their orders while expertly rebuffing Ski's
mild flirting.
“Mr. Morton, what do you
think those numbers meant. Some sort of code, maybe?”
Chip had told both of
the men of the professor's last words. “They have to be something important,
Ski. It was said with his dying breath.”
Chip had been replaying
the conversation with von Kempner over and over in his head, feeling he was
missing something said earlier. The waitress returned with the food and then
hurried away to take care of another table. They ate in silence for several
minutes with Chip shaking his head a couple times. The clue to what the
professor said had to be in their conversation, but he felt it was just out of
reach.
Patterson refilled his
glass, and after setting the pitcher back on the table, he spoke. “Sir, why
don't you tell us everything that was said. Maybe the three of us can figure
out the meaning.”
“His accent was becoming
stronger, and I was having a hard time understanding him. He was slipping back and forth to German more
and more. He convinced the skipper to call a cab, stood at the doorway watching
them drive away, but didn't see anyone suspicious or following them. He was
pleading that the captain would understand his message. When I try to press him,
he became somewhat incoherent, almost replaying the entire afternoon. He cried
out Bitah and 992. Then he was gone.”
“Sir, could he have
said, bitte?”
“That doesn't make any sense either. Unless,
as Frau Mueller suggested, von Kempner was asking me to please make a call and
started to give a phone number or address.” Imitating his friend’s gesture when
frustrated, Chip ran his hand through his short hair then sighed. “This isn't
getting us anywhere. I wish my German was better, I must have misunderstood
something.”
Chip pushed away his half-finished dinner,
suddenly no longer hungry. He was letting Lee down. Why couldn’t he figure out
what the professor meant? Thinking some sleep would clear his mind, he decided
to leave a wakeup call for 0500 at the front desk. The front desk! Why hadn't
he thought about that before?
“Sign for the check,
charge it to my room. I have to speak to the night clerk.” He tossed over some
money to cover the tip and hurried to the front desk.
“Excuse me. I was to
meet my friend Lee Crane here. Could you tell me what room he's in? He would
have checked in three days ago.”
A sleeping bushy bearded
middle-aged man working behind the counter struggled to his feet, putting on a
pompous air to cover his being caught napping on the job.
“Nein, it is verboten to
give out guest room numbers.”
“Can you call his room
and tell him I'm here? That can't be against the rules.”
The clerk harrumphed and
made a production of looking up Lee's room number. “Kane, no one by the name of
Kane is registered here.”
“Nein, nein, Crane
.C-R-A-N-E, Lee Crane.”
Once again, the man
looked at the computer, finally coming across Lee's name.
“Herr Crane checked out
two days ago.” He turned away, ready to resume his seat.
“Bitte, were you working
the night he checked out?” Von Kempner had said it was close to 6 PM when Lee
left the house. Chip was taking a chance the same person was working that
night.
“I can't remember every
guest. I'm very busy most nights.”
Chip could read the
signs and pulled out his wallet. He held up a $20 bill to the clerk who quickly
snatched it, shoveling it into his pocket.
“Ja, I checked him out.
I remember because it was unusual. A friend came in to get his bags, said Herr
Crane had a family emergency and left. He would send the luggage on after him.”
“You just let him into
the room?” Chip asked in an incredulous voice.
“Nein, he had the card
key. We just billed the room to the credit card. Herr Crane's friend tipped
generously for the inconvenience.”
Chip's heart sank. What
little hope of a breakdown or car accident was now dashed. Someone had wanted
to make it look like Lee left under his own power.
“Can you describe this
friend?”
“I was very busy.”
Chip already had pulled
out another twenty, and waved it under the greedy man's large nose.
“Ja, I was busy, but I
seem to recall this man was perhaps 50, short dark hair with some gray in it.”
“How tall, color of
eyes? Anything that would stand out about him?”
“Couple inches shorter
than you. Heavy -- had 20-25 kilograms on you.”
“Anything else? It's
important.”
The man simply shook his
head.
“Has anyone else asked
about Herr Crane?”
“Nein, I have not worked
since then.” He tried to stifle a yawn, losing interest now that no more money
was offered. Then he had a change of heart, perhaps thinking of further tips.
He offered the fact that Peter, the person who worked the last two nights,
would be in the next morning.
“Danka schön! Could you please arrange a wakeup call for 5AM for room 312?”
Chip watched as the clerk filled out the slip,
and then wearily returned to his room. He would question Peter and the local
police, after he spoke with the ONI agent. Chip called the Institute to report
what he had discovered along with the sad news of Professor von Kempner's
death. In the morning he would pay a visit to the police station and also see
what ground Agent Gordon had covered. Afterwards he would return to Spangdahlem AFB where he could
radio Admiral Nelson from the flying sub.
Chapter 4
As
Lee had predicted, he was thrown into a cell, sprawling
on the floor for some time recovering. Finally managing to get the pain
somewhat under control he took stock of his surroundings. The room was quite
large, the walls at least 12 feet high with only
one small opening near the ceiling. He could tell that a heavy mesh was
cemented over the window to stop the creepy crawling creatures from coming in.
He was grateful for the slim amount of light the opening allowed but also happy
it was now summer and there would be no freezing during the colder months.
There was nothing more in the cell other than a thin straw filled mattress with
a ratty blanket and a bucket in the corner for his needs.
What
did the mad man have in store for him this time? He knew it would be worse than
before, Decker had a score to settle, make that two scores. Lee had bested him
twice; he doubted Decker would allow for a third. The man was pure evil and
looked it. Cold and dispassionate, his hooded dark eyes never allowed anyone to
know what he was thinking. He was so stiff in his mannerisms as to resemble a
mannequin -- but one from which the fire of cruelty emanated.
He
lay down and pulled the inadequate covering over him. It would be best to rest
and conserve his strength for what was coming next. Decker was a master at
torture. Lee shuddered, recalling his first encounter. It wasn't only the pain,
though that was bad enough, but dealing with the mind games. Lee remembered
spending days working on what he thought was an
overlooked rotting window lock in his cell. It finally broke away and just as
he was ready to make his escape, the guards showed up laughing. Decker wanted
him to try to get away and fail. That was just one of his tricks -- to raise
hope only to dash it. The solid walls of his prison would allowed no sound to
escape, leaving his torturer free to torment his prisoner without fear of
interference. Lee hoped he had the courage to withstand what was coming; he had
to. Failure could mean death to those on Seaview.
He could not, would not, be responsible for that.
He
needed his sleep to help survive Decker's interrogation. Slowly his eyes grew
heavy.
*****
After
spending more than a day in solitary with no food or water two armed guards
came for him, and dragged him down the corridor to another room. Once there, he
was stripped to the waist, chained hands and feet to the wall and was again
left alone. Lee’s arms were stretched high above his head, tautly pulling at
his shoulder joint. His back was painfully being jabbed by the roughly cut stones.
This position must be taught in Torture 101, Lee mused, considering how many
times he had been in a similar situation. The sudden stabbing pain radiating
from his bruised and battered ribs attested to the appeal of the position.
Looking
to his left, Lee immediately knew the room had been modernized. The sturdy
chair with straps hanging from the arms and legs, in addition to some type of
apparatus at the head, brought chills to Lee’s body. The wires from the chair
led to a computer. It looked like Decker was taking the interrogation up a
notch or two. A metal rolling table held a cloth covered tray, drugs or some
other instrument of torture, Lee surmised.
The
right side wall exhibited numerous whips in assorted styles and sizes, along with
many other medieval torture devices. Some Lee recognized; others he didn’t even
want to imagine what pain they were capable of inflicting. Decker was playing a
masterful game of psychological warfare.
Positioned
right in front of Lee was a padded leather chair and end table, a set up one
would find by the fireplace in a cozy den. All ready for Decker’s enjoyment, if
Lee was not mistaken. His parched mouth became even dryer at the thought of the
coming days. Lee would have to hold out until Seaview showed up and his friends could find him. If they found him, he didn’t even know where he was. Somewhere
between Bitburg and Frankfurt, if his mental calculations were correct; but the
car had made so many turns, he wasn't confident by the end of the trip what direction
they had traveled.
The
heavy door creaked open as Lee’s adversary swaggered forward, stopping well
within Lee’s personal space. Decker took a big sip from the frosty glass in his
hand, appearing to relish the cold liquid as it went down his throat. The
sadistic smile Lee had learned to hate appeared on the man’s face.
“Did
you enjoy your time out, my friend? I always find my subjects greatly benefit
from the solitude. It gives them a chance to reflect on their transgressions.”
Lee
didn’t even bother to answer, not wanting to give Decker the satisfaction of
hearing his croaking voice. He returned his gaze to his focal point on the
wall, mustering his strength for what was to come.
“Now,
now, Lee, it’s not nice to be so antisocial. I’m trying to help you. I need you
to tell me the code. I have to admit, the manuscript is very interesting
although the professor will never be awarded a Pulitzer for his writing. I
found it fascinating to learn of his passion for winemaking. His mind did start
to wander in the later chapters, not making a lot of sense. His illness must be
rapidly progressing.”
Lee
remained silent, but what Decker was saying worried him. Had he underestimated
von Kempner, had he really discovered something important? Was there a coded
message hidden in the book? A stabbing pain in his side brought him back to the
present. Decker had punched his side.
“Painful,
is it? Your bruises are turning some very interesting colors. Tell me, does
this hurt?”
Decker landed a sharp jab to Lee’s abdomen, causing
a moan he was unable to suppress. His tormentor sat down in the comfortable
chair and drank more from the glass, patiently waiting for an answer. Lee
slowly let out his breath attempting to ease his pain.
“Come,
come, Lee, there’s no need to be the stoic hero. I know and you know I’ll get
the answers by one method or another. Why don’t you just give me what I want?”
“Nothing
to tell,” Lee managed to get out.
Decker
rose and stood next to the restrained man. “You must be thirsty, have some tea.”
He
held the glass to Lee’s lips, tipping the liquid into his mouth. Lee tried not
to gulp down the welcome wetness too quickly. It would be foolish to refuse if
he had any chance to withstand the interrogations. Gagging as the tea came
faster and faster, not allowing him to swallow, Lee drew his head away.
“Sorry,
I thought you needed a drink. If not, let’s continue.”
Decker
walked to the right wall, examining the options before him. Much to Lee’s terror,
he selected a cat o’ nine tails, turning and advancing towards the captain with
hatred on his face.
*****
Back
aboard Seaview the first night out,
Admiral Nelson checked their position before retiring to his cabin. He placed
two glasses on his desk next to a bottle of Scotch and poured some liquor into
one. Leaning back in his chair, he allowed himself the first sip of the day,
waiting. He called out to enter when the expected knock came.
“What
took you so long, Will?” Nelson filled the second glass with the fine Glenlivet
Scotch.
“Any
news from Chip?”
Nelson’s
expression grew stony. “Nothing good,
I’m afraid, Will. Someone took the time and effort to check Lee out of his
hotel, probably hoping nobody would report him missing for a while. We’re lucky that the staff in Frankfurt were
on the ball and sounded the alarm when he failed to arrive.”
“Our
last hope for an accident.” Will took a
sip, observing Nelson as he nervously tapped the
desk in front of him. “Chip told you more, didn’t he? There’s something else
bothering you.”
“Von
Kempner’s dead. He passed away while Chip was with them.”
“It’s
sad, but we knew it was coming. Did you know him very well?”
“We
spoke on the same symposium once and worked in a joint project with our two
governments. A brilliant man and very
down to Earth. I think that’s one reason why Lee struck up such a friendship
with him.”
“What
aren’t you telling me, Harry?”
The
admiral tossed back the rest of his drink and poured another before answering
the doctor’s questions.
“Chip
is sure there’s something in the manuscript of the professor. He kept repeating
something about hoping Lee understood his message. From what I was told, he was
somewhat paranoid that people were bugging his house. I'm assuming that he was
trying to give Lee clues without giving anything away.”
Jamieson’s
eyebrows shot up. “So our captain might
have information he doesn’t even know he has?”
“That’s
a distinct possibility. What concerns me is why the driver has not come
forward. We need to track him down, but with the professor’s death, no one can
identify him.”
“Harry,
Lee is very resourceful. He’s been in lots of tough spots before. We’ve got to
stay positive.”
Nelson
ran a hand through his hair. “One of
these days his luck is going to run out, Will. I’m afraid this might be the
time. We have no idea if he’s still in Germany -- or if he’s even alive,”
Nelson said grimly. “I should never have
allowed him to leave. At the very least, I should have insisted
someone accompany him.”
“You
could blame me. I’m the one who okayed him for full duty.”
“No,
Will, even if I had given him a direct order he would have found a way to go
around it. Von Kempner was ‘family’ to him. It’s the same as if Chip or you
needed him.”
“Or
you, Harry.”
Nelson
looked up. Jamieson knew that the pain
in his eyes wasn’t going away.
“Now
we just wait for Morton’s team to find some trace of him. I hate not being in
the thick of things. I should be the one looking for Lee.” I’m his father, was his unspoken thought.
Will
finished his drink, refusing another. “I’m hitting the rack, and as the CMO, I’m
ordering you to do the same.”
After
the doctor left the admiral’s cabin, Nelson reluctantly obeyed the doctor’s
order, but sleep wouldn’t come. He kept replaying the argument he’d with Lee….
“Sir, Admiral
Johnson was here earlier while you were away.”
He
had immediately blown up, furious at Admiral
Johnson. How dare he put Lee in harm’s way so soon after his recovery? And Lee,
that boy’s sense of duty would be the death of both of them one day.
“No! You’re not going off on some confounded
mission for ONI.”
“Sir, Professor von Kempner is asking for me,
he doesn’t trust anyone else.”
“I don’t care;
you just came off medical leave.”
“Dr. Jamison
okayed me for full duty, there’s no reason I shouldn’t go.”
“Commander
Crane, I hired you to be the captain of Seaview, not play errand boy for the
ONI. How many times have you returned injured, necessitating Mr. Morton doing
your job?”
Lee’s
voice had gone very quiet.
“Admiral Nelson,
if you feel I’m not performing my duties, you may have my resignation, sir. Perhaps
Commander Morton will be better suited as Seaview’s captain. He dislikes ONI,
even more than you.”
He
had been stunned at the offer, knowing what
Seaview meant to Lee. It had been a miscalculation, questioning Lee’s
dedication to duty. He had wounded Lee’s pride.
He’d swallowed some of his own to keep
matters from getting out of hand.
“Don’t be
foolish, Lee, you were born to command Seaview, and so we won’t speak any more
about you resigning. If you must accept the assignment, I insist you keep in touch.
If this is all so aboveboard, there should be no problem with that. But like so
many of your past dealings with ONI, I'm afraid we will be called on to pull
you out of the fire.”
He
had regretted the words as soon as they had come out of his mouth.
“I’ll call when
I arrive, Admiral. It there is nothing
else, sir, I have some work that needs my attention.” The stony look on his face and his tone
was bad enough, but what was worse, was what he said as he did an abrupt about
face and marched to the door. “I certainly don’t plan on wasting anyone’s
time aboard Seaview. You won’t have to
worry about rescuing me. I’m capable of visiting a sick friend without starting
an international incident.”
He
had wanted to say something, take back his words, but Lee had gone, practically
slamming the door in his face.
Knowing
Lee as well as he did, Harry could almost feel the hurt and anger the boy was
experiencing over his sense of commitment to duty being called into question.
Due to an unexpected meeting, he had been unable to calm
the waters before Lee took off for Germany. Would those angry words be the last
spoken between the two?
Nelson
tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, finally reaching for his
cigarettes. He would laugh at Lee’s claim of not needing rescuing, if the
situation wasn’t so serious. When would Lee finally realize the fallacy of
ONI’s claim of a simple in and out?
Giving
up sleep, Nelson put on his robe and checked with the control room for an
update on their position and any incoming messages. He lit another cigarette
and settled back in his chair with a book. It was going to be a long seven
days.
*****
0500 BITBURG
HOTEL
Having
received his wake up call, Chip ordered a pot of coffee and some breakfast
rolls from room service. Showered and dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, he
paced up and down the hotel room drinking coffee, trying to plan the next move.
The picture of Gordon on his laptop stared up at him every time he passed the
desk.
Please let him
have a lead on Crane.
He
was interrupted by a knock on the connecting door. Opening it, Chip found Ski
and Pat up and dressed in jeans and dark colored T-shirts.
“There’s
coffee on the table, help yourselves. We’ll go down to breakfast at seven. I
want to see Gordon before he shows up at the room, make sure he’s alone.” Chip pointed to the laptop for the two men to
study once more.
“Don’t
you trust him, Mr. Morton? I thought he was a friend of the skipper?”
Chip
thought back to Drake, another “ONI friend,” and all the trouble he’d caused.
“Right
now, Ski, let’s say I’m only sure about the three of us. This mission was
supposed to be a cakewalk, and look what happened. It’s best if we keep what we
know quiet for now, and see what this agent has for us.”
Chip
laid out his plan. While he was with Gordon, Kowalski and Patterson would speak
with the night clerk Peter and see if he could
remember anyone asking for Lee or knowing anyone that looked like the man who
checked out the captain. They would also question the other staff members. As Chip
was leaving the front desk last night the oaf of a desk
clerk had volunteered that the man had looked a little familiar and was
certainly German, based on his speech. It was amazing
how a hint of further tips could loosen tongues in any language.
*****
The
three men had finished eating breakfast in the hotel restaurant and were
stalling over their coffee, watching for the ONI agent. They had a clear view
of anyone entering the hotel.
“Remember,
I'll follow Gordon up to my room. You keep a lookout for anyone who seems to be
interested in either of us. If it appears safe, go talk to the staff. It's a
long shot, but it's a start.”
Patterson
was the first to spot the ONI man strolling past the registration desk and
heading towards the elevators. Both Pat and Kowalski nonchalantly stood up and
walked towards the foyer, casually glancing around, discussing plans to visit
the brewery. Dropping a sightseeing pamphlet he had previously selected from
the rack, Ski picked it up and replaced it on the table -- a signal no one was
following Gordon.
The
elevator had returned to the ground floor just as Chip arrived in front of it.
He was alone as it stopped on the third floor. Chip cautiously exited, looking
for the agent. There was no one waiting in front of his room. Testing the door
and finding it still locked, he used his card to enter. Slowly pushing the door
open, Chip was surprised to find the room unoccupied. A slight noise from the
connecting room grabbed his attention. With utmost care, he opened that door.
Agent
Gordon stood by the foot of the beds, holding a gun pointed at Chip.
“Good
morning, Commander Morton. Please come in.”
Chapter 5
Gordon
waved a gun motioning Chip to take a seat. “Question time, Commander. You’ve known Lee Crane for quite a while. When
did you first meet?”
“First
day at Annapolis, we roomed together.”
Gordon
nodded. “Tell me, what sneaky trick did
you play on Lee during an inspection in your plebe year?”
“That
was years ago, how am I supposed to recall something ....” A sly grin appeared
on Chip’s face. “Do you mean the time I ‘borrowed’ a buckle of Lee's during a
surprise inspection? It got him a fistful of demerits.”
The
agent lowered his gun. “Some friend you were.”
“Hey,
he barely ever got any dings. I was tired of walking off so many of mine. He
wasn't mad, well, not too mad. You’re
sure about me. Don’t I get to ask any
questions?”
“You
got my picture, on a secure connection, right?
But okay, ask away.”
Chip
thought long and hard. Lee was always
reticent about the ops he’d been involved in.
Nevertheless, supposedly, he’d worked with this man…. “Does the name Maria Papadakis mean anything
to you? And Monte Carlo?”
“Don’t
you mean Maria Michaelides and the Cote d’Azur?
Ah, the advantages of a few days off ….”
Despite
the seriousness of the situation, Chip smiled.
Lee had regaled his XO with a story of a beautiful Greek girl, a
sparkling French beach and a stolen weekend vacation. Obviously, Gordon knew the details.
“Okay,
we’re even. Anything else you want to
know?”
“Did
Lee teach you that trick about dropping something to signal an all clear?
“No,
I managed to pick that one up all by myself. And I didn't even need any
superspy training.”
Gordon
burst out laughing. “Lee told me how much you dislike ONI. I hope that doesn't
mean we can't work together.”
“If
you want to play 007, that’s fine with me. It's a necessary evil. I just want
the agency to leave Lee alone.”
“Call
me Art. It's Chip, right? And I'm going out on a limb to say the other two are
Pat and Ski.”
“I
see the skipper has bragged about the crew to you. Kowalski and Patterson --
both good men to have your back when things get rough.”
Gordon put away his
weapon and sat down on one of the two beds. Good thing, Chip thought, he'd
gotten a photograph of the guy; he had the height, broad shoulders and light
skin of every other man in Bitberg. His dark brown hair and hazel
eyes fit in well in this part of the world. Chip concluded that if
somebody was needed to look like Mr. Average in half of Europe, Agent Gordon got
the call. He was a person who could blend into any crowd.
“I
only got in six hours before you did yesterday, had to tie up some loose ends.
I checked in with the Frankfurt Consulate to see if Crane had told his contact
anything. I was hoping Lee noticed something unusual, but the contact assured
me Lee didn't foresee any trouble. He felt that the professor was imagining
things and his writings were just memoirs. I spoke to the polizei kriminalrat,
what we call a police detective, who is handling the missing person report. No
cab driver admits to picking up a passenger at von Kempner's residence.”
“Doesn't
that sound strange to you? The professor told me he watched Lee drive off in
the cab he’d called. What about the taxi company? Shouldn't they have a record
of incoming calls requesting a taxi? Don't the drivers keep a trip log?”
Gordon
spread his hands.
“In the big cities like Berlin or Frankfurt they would, but here,
well, the best way to describe it would be to call the drivers independent
contractors. They own the car and pay for a special license. The drivers all
use the same dispatcher, unless one of them gets to the phone first and takes
the fare. The cabbies pay a monthly fee to the company for use of the phone and
mechanics, etcetera. The company also owns some cabs themselves. I wouldn't put
it past anyone to allow an unlicensed driver to use a cab now and then. They
would never admit it to the polizei, they could lose their license. I'm afraid
it's looking like a dead end unless the professor gave you a description before
he died.”
“You
know about him passing away?”
“Yes,
Admiral Johnson told me you planned on speaking to von Kempner as soon as you
arrived. I figured he would speak more freely with you, and my talents would be
better suited elsewhere. I did see them taking the body away.”
Chip
relied on his gut feeling, sensing he could trust Gordon. “No, he didn't say
anything except watching the taxi drive away and no one appearing to follow.”
“I'm
sure Admiral Nelson briefed you that my main assignment is to look for any
enemy activity. If it's okay with you, I think I’m better suited checking on my
sources and doing the covert work. You and your men can move about more openly.
People saw you at the professor’s house. I assume Pat and Ski are talking to
people downstairs right now. Keep pushing about the taxi driver, they might
respond to Americans looking for a missing friend rather than answering the
polizei. A little bribe might get you some answers. You’re better off using
euros if you’re greasing palms. American money is harder to explain.”
The
sound of the key card being used brought the ONI agent to his feet, his drawn
gun pointing towards the door. Two startled crewmen looked at the barrel of the
Sig Sauer as they stopped dead, turning their heads towards Morton for answers.
“It's
okay, come on in. Our spook friend is naturally cautious. Agent Gordon, this is
Patterson and Kowalski. Close the door, guys, and have a seat.”
Pat
and Ski warily sat down on the side of the bed, keeping a close eye on the gun.
“Sorry,
it comes with the territory.” Gordon put the gun away. “Glad to meet you,
gentlemen.” He quickly filled them in on
his conversation with Chip about a possible plan of action.
“We
don't want to attract attention by meeting, so call if you get something solid.
Just be careful what you say on the phone. You're equipped with a scramble
device but I have found out the hard way nothing is completely secure. I
surmise you are scanning for the GPS on Lee's cell?”
“If
the phone is turned on we’ll track it, don't worry. Admiral Nelson has come up
with a handheld device so we can travel by foot.” Chip
asked abruptly, “What’s your take on this, Art?”
Gordon
shrugged. “Your guess is as good as
mine. I’ve put out a couple of feelers,
haven’t turned up anything. Got a few more sources to squeeze. Right now I'm
not thinking it's a random kidnapping of a tourist, especially with the
emptying of the hotel room, and no ransom demand.” He stood up and made for the
exit. “Good luck and be careful. We don’t know who we’re dealing with yet.” He
slipped out the door, closing it softly behind him.
“Well,
Mr. Morton, he didn't have much information so I guess it's up to us.”
“Looks
like it, Ski. Did you have much luck with any of the staff?”
“Some,
it’s making it easy since almost everybody speaks some English. Guess that’s a bonus for being so close to the base. Anyway, one of the cleaning ladies said the guy who
picked up the skipper’s stuff looked like one that had been hanging around the
hotel a month ago when a VIP had checked in, but she’s not sure.”
“I
wouldn't think Bitburg drew in anyone important.”
“Sometimes
visitors at Sprang would stay off-base, they like the peace and quiet. You know
it's only a fifteen-minute trip. She also remembered about three months ago an
Australian scientist visited the professor and stayed at this hotel. She's
pretty sure this same guy showed up on the floor a couple of times.”
“She
recalls someone from three months ago?”
Patterson
laughed. “Seems the Australian look like a younger Mel Gibson complete with a
sexy accent. Karla, that's her name, said he just looked out of place, hanging
around on the floor. He wasn’t a guest as far as she knew.”
“Funny
no one else mentioned him.”
“Well,
Mr. Morton, waitresses wouldn’t be paying attention, they get non-guests eating
all the time. Unless the guy was acting suspicious hanging around the front
desk, the clerk would just think he was waiting for a guest.”
“You're
right, Pat, but he made a mistake hanging around the rooms. Look at the description we have and then look
around outside on the sidewalk, Mr. Middle-age Average.”
“So,
when we go from here, sir?”
“Time
to pay the taxi company a visit. We'll keep it nice and friendly, just looking
for our missing friend.”
Leaving
their rooms, they stopped at the front desk to get directions to the taxi
company, Chip was handed an envelope by the clerk.
“I
was just going to send this up to your room, Herr Morton. It's from the
landespolizei; excuse me, our state police. I hope it has some news about your
friend.”
“Danke.”
Chip
waited until he got into the car before opening the letter and laughed as he
read a short note.
“It
seems Art had a word with the detective and got us permits to carry concealed
weapons. Our German friend wishes us luck during target practice and asks us to
please be careful. He dislikes all the paperwork when someone is ‘accidentally’
shot.’ He stuck the note in an inside pocket.
“It's nice to have local backup.”
They
reached the taxi company without difficulty but were disappointed to find only
two drivers and a female dispatcher.
“Guten
Tag, gentlemen. May I help you?”
“We
would like to speak to your drivers, if possible.”
The
dispatcher looked alarmed. “Did a cab hit your car? We are not
responsible; each man has his own insurance.”
“Nein, nein, our friend is
missing and we are trying to retrace his steps. We believe one of your men
picked up our companion at Professor von Kempner’s house.”
The two drivers had been eavesdropping on
the conversation between the dispatcher and Chip. The
taller of the two, a real Nordic type, spoke up.
“Heinrich likes to pick up fares from the
professor’s house; he has the hots for Frau Mueller.” The two laughed.
Shaking her head, the woman added, “He would not
like to hear you say that, Josef.”
Turning back to Chip, she said, “Herr Schmidt usually
is our dispatcher but he also drives from time to time. He needed to take some
time off for health reasons. I'm just filling in until he returns; my husband
owns the garage next door plus this business.”
“Can you give us his address? It's very
important we speak to him.”
“He’s out of town, getting some special
treatments, but should be back day after tomorrow. I can have him call you if
he knows anything. We did have the polizei asking if any of our cabs were
missing or had an accident. We are all accounted for. Why do you think Schmidt
could help you?”
“We’re not sure, we would like to speak to
everyone. Since he is off ill, maybe he wasn’t questioned by the authorities. We thought maybe our friend got picked up and then
changed his mind. I'm not sure what the police had asked.” Chip put on his
boyish charm, the smile that always got him the extra helping of dessert from his
grandmother. “Please, we are
desperate to find our friend. Who knows what could have happened to him. He
could be hurt or sick.”
The puppy dog expression apparently did the trick. “Don’t you fret, young man, I'll make sure all of our people speak to you. Three more
are due back within the next 15 to 20 minutes. I’ll get you some coffee while
you're waiting, but you can start with those two over there.”
“Danke,” Chip replied and turned up the
wattage on the smile. “We appreciate your help.”
The Seaview men walked over to the
drivers and with great politeness started asking them questions. Both men had
worked that afternoon but were sure neither took the call to von Kempner’s
house. The younger of the two stated he picked up two American ladies from the
hotel around 11 and spent the day driving them around sightseeing and shopping
here and the next town over. He returned around 8 PM. The size of the tip he
received made the day stick in his head.
The other driver, the one who
had mentioned Heinrich, had been busy the whole day but also denied receiving a summons to the
Professor’s house. He had driven Frau Mueller a couple of times when the
professor’s old junker wouldn't start. He couldn’t remember anyone getting a
call in the past week but, of course, he was in and out a lot.
The
woman returned with coffee and cookies. “It was the 24th that you are
interested in, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am,
between 5 and 6 PM.”
“Please,
my name is Eva. We don’t keep track of the fares for each driver since we are
just a central dispatch but each driver is required to sign in each day. I have
the sheet here so you can make sure you don’t miss anyone.”
“Danke, Eva. This is excellent coffee.”
“And
wonderful cookies,” Ski added, figuring a little extra flattery wouldn't hurt.
The
phone rang and Eva returned to business, sending out the younger driver. In the
meantime, Pat had taken his coffee and wandered next door to the garage where a
teenage boy was helping the middle-aged man who had just slid under a car.
Keeping his distance so as to not disturb the workers, Patterson watched the
boy hand the mechanic the tools as he worked under the automobile. He must've
called for something not in the box as the youngster took off towards the back
room. The other man yelled for a screwdriver and impatiently reached out his
hand. Pat hurried over and grabbed what he hoped was the correct size, squatted
down and placed it in the man's hand. Another demand came and Pat said a silent
thank you to his high school German teacher as he handed over the tool.
By
this time, the teenager had returned and started apologizing to the American.
The mechanic, hearing the two voices, slipped out from under the car. He was
angry with his helper and mortified that a stranger had been helping him. Pat
assured him it was no problem; he had worked during high school at his uncle’s
garage and still enjoyed tinkering with cars. It took a while to get that all
out, groping for the right words in his rusty Germanic vocabulary. By the
polite grins on their faces he realized he needn’t have bothered, both spoke
English.
The
mechanic turned out to be the garage owner and Eva's husband and the teenage
boy was their son. Wiping off his hand the owner shook Patterson's while at the
same time sending his son under the car to retrieve the tools left behind.
“You
have car trouble? I'm a very good mechanic.”
“Nein,
my companions are next-door. We are looking for a missing friend and hope one
of the taxi drivers can help us locate him.”
“I
see my wife is taking good care of you. I can use a coffee break myself.”
Turning to his son who was sliding out from under the car, he instructed him to
fill up the tank and take the car out for a brief test drive. Pat laughed as
the boy jumped to his feet, anxious to get behind the wheel of the vehicle. In
his rush, the teenager dropped the screwdriver and it rolled towards Pat’s
feet. He bent down and froze as he started to straighten up. Pat couldn't
believe his eyes. He thrust the tool into the startled man's hand, and hurried
back to Chip and Ski.
In
the short time that passed with him next-door, two taxis had returned and
Morton was beginning to question the cabbies. Wanting to be sure, Pat checked
out their cabs before speaking to the XO.
“Excuse
me, Mr. Morton. But can I see you for a minute?”
Chip
looked at the rate, wondering what was so important to interrupt him. He told
Ski to continue with the two men and walked over to where Patterson stood next
to the two vehicles.
“Okay
Pat, you look like you hit the jackpot. What is it?”
“Look
sir, the front of the cabs.”
Chip
followed Pat’s finger to where he pointed.
“BIT
BK 726 and BIT AH 869, don't you see, sir. Look at our car; SPA AF 477. The car
at the garage is BIT AH 901. The professor was telling you a license plate
number.”
Pat’s
excited voice drew Eva and her husband Richard’s attention and they joined Chip,
who quickly turned to them with a question.
“The
license plates, they all begin with BIT?”
“Yes,
cars registered in each town begin with their initials, depending on the size
of the town or city it could be one or more initials. Hamburg is an H, and Munich
an M, while in Bitburg we use BIT.”
“Our
rental is SPR.”
“Yes,
the rental agency has several offices in Berlin and Hamburg and some other
places. But since you could turn your car in another office you wouldn’t
necessarily have SPR.”
“But
there's no rental office here, so no BIT?”
“No,
that's why the taxi business does so well.”
“Danke,
you have been very helpful, Eva. I have one more favor. Do you have the license
plate numbers for all the cars that work out of your building?”
Once
again, the phone started ringing but this time Eva ignored it and one of the
drivers answered. He had just hung up when it rang again and once more before
he was able to walk away. Soon all three cabs pulled out in different
directions to pick up their fares. Eva had returned with the ledger containing
the drivers’ information. There were currently fifteen men using the dispatch
office. It took only a few minutes to find BIT AH 992 listed under Heinrich
Schmidt. Finally, a solid lead. He had to be the driver that picked up Lee at
the professor’s. Von Kempner unconsciously committed the plate to memory as he
watched the taxi drive away.
“You
think Schmidt is involved in the disappearance of your friend?”
Chip
was in a bind. Both Eva and Richard appeared to be friendly and honest, how
could he be sure they were not involved?
Richard spoke up. “I thought there was
something fishy about his going off for these special treatments. He doesn't
take fares very often but other drivers have been complaining he chooses some
of the best calls for himself. We don't get many important people. Occasionally
Professor von Kempner would have a visitor, some scientist or government person
visit. And we have another retired professor, a mathematician; former
colleagues from all over the world come to see him, along with some of his past
students. My niece helps out when he has company and she's always telling me
about these brilliant men. Schmidt seemed to assign himself to these two places
a lot. I thought it was because he liked to practice speaking in different
languages.”
“This
man Schmidt, he has a talent for languages?”
“Yes,
sir, Herr Schmidt speaks at least six that I know of. He boasts about it.
German and English of course, plus Russian, Chinese, French and some
mid-eastern one, never really asked him what it was. One more thing I just
recall. Around three years ago a fare of Heinrich’s was mugged; I believe he
was seriously injured. It stands out in my mind because it was strange his
wallet hadn't been stolen but his briefcase was. This man was a student of Herr
Klink. The polizei came around to question Schmidt.”
“Let
me guess, Herr Schmidt wasn't here, another medical emergency?”
“Yes,
said the stress of the event brought on a relapse. He was gone for a week, I
believe.”
Chip
was even more positive Schmidt was their man. Eva wrote down the man's address
and phone number, and both promised not to say anything to him when he returned
to work. They thanked the owners and return to the hotel where Chip placed a
call to the Detective Brenner who had so graciously provided the gun permits.
“Very
well, Herr Morton. I will check into Herr Schmidt's background. A quick examination
shows no criminal activity on our computer, but we will continue to investigate
him. I plan to question his neighbors, can always use the ruse of a security
check for a government job. Perhaps our mutual friend Herr Gordon can also investigate
with his employers.”
Morton
thanked him and disconnected the phone.
“What
next, sir? This guy won't be back for almost two days.” Ski was anxious to do
something to help the skipper.
“The
police promised to send a copy of Schmidt's photo off his driver’s license. We
can show it to Karla and the night clerk to make sure he's the same man. Until
then, we’ll go back to the base and radio Seaview
from the flying sub. The admiral's waiting for an update and I'm sure he'll
have questions. I'll put a call in to Admiral Johnson to have him check on
Schmidt. It'll be safer if they contact Gordon. When we return, the photo
should be waiting for us. We need that to speak to Frau Mueller again. She
might remember seeing Schmidt loitering around the professor’s place. The more
ammo we have on him, the better it will be when we finally ‘talk’ to him.”
Patterson
and Kowalski both knew what was going to happen during that talk if Morton's
tone and expression meant anything.
*****
Once
aboard FS 1, and after speaking to Johnson to request a deep background check,
Chip raised Seaview without any
difficulty. He was quickly patched through to the admiral, who was asleep in
his cabin.
“Good
news about your lead, it's inconvenient this character isn't around so you
could question him immediately. I wish we could be sure he's going to return,
that he hasn't taken off for good.”
“I
can't guarantee it, Admiral, but Richard and Eva both said he has taken time
off for these so-called medical treatments four times before. When they thought
it through, all those times connected when he had one of his special fares.”
“Definitely
not the mastermind, but someone who passes on information to his boss plus a
little surveillance of select VIPs. With his language skills, he's a very
valuable asset.”
“I
wonder how much he knows and can he tell us where Lee is?”
“I
believe you’ll find he knows just so much, maybe one or two others he can give
up -- if he is properly persuaded. This is sounding more and more like a very
well organized bunch of criminals.”
“No
one knows too much, and their leader remains safely anonymous.”
“I’m
afraid you are correct, Mr. Morton. You'll just have to make him talk, then
work your way up the chain. It's Lee's only chance. Keep in contact with me. Seaview will be running on the surface
from 2100 to 2200 Zulu time each night, so you can contact us on your cell.
I'll speak with Admiral Johnson and light a fire under him to get the
information. He's more concerned about terrorist activity than finding Lee,”
Nelson said grimly.
“Aye,
sir. I'm meeting with Otto Benner, the police detective, tomorrow morning after
breakfast. He’s sure he'll have some information for us by then. I plan to take
Kowalski and Patterson to the Frankford consulate to speak with Lee’s contact.
Ski and Pat can show the photo around the area, someone might remember seeing
him. It's a long shot, but there's not much else to do until we can question
Schmidt.”
“Good
idea, Mr. Morton. We will be waiting for your next report.”
*****
Nelson
had a short but loud conversation with Admiral Johnson, making sure he got his
point across. It looked like Crane had accidentally stumbled onto an illegal
information gathering organization. Stealing scientific discoveries could make
any company rich, not to mention nations willing to purchase these advances to
make their military stronger.
If
Lee was aware of any such Intel from the professor’s manuscript, he would hold
out as long as possible, even if his life depended on it, to prevent the wrong
people from gaining access. Or possibly, if whoever kidnapped him did it for
the knowledge Lee had regarding Seaview,
the admiral knew his captain wouldn't think twice about sacrificing himself to
protect Seaview’s secrets. But a man
can only withstand so much before he cracks. And as much as Lee tried to deny
it, he was human and had a breaking point. No one would fault him, no one but
himself if he revealed any classified information.
Hang on, Lee. Wherever you are, hang on, son, help is
coming.
Admiral
Nelson, now wide-awake, left his cabin. If her captain was unable to do the
late night walkabout that Crane was famous for, it might instill confidence in
the crew to see a familiar routine continue. Maybe Nelson could urge the boat
to an extra knot or two.
His
first stop was to the galley for a cup of java, it was going to be a long day.
Might as well start it off with a strong jolt of caffeine.
He
visited the engineering, circuitry, and missile rooms, where everything was
running smoothly as usual. His last stop was the con where Lieutenant Maxwell
had the watch.
“Everything
running alright, Mr. Maxwell?”
“Yes,
sir. The weather forecast calls for calm for the next 48 hours. We should be
able to stay on course without any trouble. I just checked our position. We’re
two hours ahead of schedule. It's almost like the boat knows how urgent it is
to get to our destination.”
The
admiral wasn't surprised. With the surreal attachment Lee had with his gray
lady, Nelson wouldn't be amazed by anything Seaview
would do for her captain. He poured himself another cup of coffee from the ever-present
carafe in the observation deck and stood by the window staring out, unable to
see much in the deep dark sea. Suddenly the lights came on, illuminating the
area. He turned and nodded his thanks to
Maxwell before returning his attention to the water. Would Lee ever be standing
here again? Could Chip find him before too much damage was done to his often-abused
body? Or were they all deluding themselves that Captain Crane was still alive?
He
placed his palm on the herculite window as if Seaview could answer his questions. Nelson didn’t know how long he
stood like that, but eventually he became aware of Mr. Maxwell standing next to
him.
“Sir,
maybe you should try to get some rest. There is nothing that needs your
attention right now. And if I may respectfully point out, once we reach Germany
you’re going to need to be at the top of your game, sir.”
“It's
just so damn hard, Cam, not being able to do anything.”
“Maybe
not right now, Admiral, but pretty soon. We haven't failed yet in our rescues
of Captain Crane, and we won't this time either.”
Nelson,
smiling, turned to regard the young officer. If -- when -- they got Lee back,
it was men like this, young, determined, officers, and enlisted, who would make the difference in any situation.
“Thank
you, Lieutenant. Carry on.”
“Aye,
aye, sir.”
Chapter 6
Decker
positioned himself in front of Crane, dragging the cat o’ nine tails over Lee's
naked chest.
“Many
people confuse the ‘cat’ with a Roman scourge or flagrum. I prefer this beauty,
it inflicts a significant amount of pain, but it doesn't cut through to the
bone quite so quickly. All that blood loss is counterproductive to questioning.
Can't get any information off a dead person, now can I, Lee?”
Lee
didn't answer, steeling himself for what was to come.
A
deranged laugh escaped from Decker. “What's the matter, Commander, cat got your
tongue?”
The
sadist moved the whip lovingly across Lee's face with a sickening grin.
“I
should show you some delightful photos I have of a beautiful, excuse me, a
formerly beautiful woman who betrayed me. Boy, the cat really tears through
tender flesh. Pity she lost her sight, but then again, she no longer can look
into the mirror at her mutilated face. Oh, the exquisite joy each lash brought
me.”
The
excited gleam in Decker’s eyes was nauseating.
The man is
almost drooling, what have I gotten myself into this time? Please God, give me
the strength to hold on. And I wouldn't mind if You gave Admiral Nelson a
guiding hand in finding me.
“Decisions,
decisions, where shall I start?” Decker
turned his back on Lee retreating a few steps to finish off a glass of iced tea.
With lightning speed he then lunged forward and struck, causing Crane to yell
out in pain as the handle came crashing down on his already throbbing shoulder.
Decker had shifted his grip on the cat o ’nine tails while he finished his
drink. The pain was bad, but Lee was sure a lash of the whip would have been
far worse.
“I
find the cat has its place but I don't believe it would work very well on you.
I have something special planned, I'm sure you will enjoy it, Lee.”
The
two fat guards had returned and waited patiently by the door for their orders.
Each had a stupid grin on his face. Right then Lee nicknamed them Tweedledee
and Tweedledum. Decker motioned them forward.
“I
believe our guest still looks overdressed, please take care of it. Then place
him on the chair.”
The
guards removed the ankle chains and yanked off Lee’s shoes and socks, then
unbuckled the belt in preparation for the removal of the pants.
“Let
him keep the shorts, after all, Lee is an officer and a gentleman. My, my I
thought you would have been a boxer man,” Decker taunted as the men carried out
their orders.
Soon
Crane had exchanged one confining position for another. Metal bands bit into
flesh as his ankles and wrists were secured to the chair. A wide thick leather
band held him around the chest. The worst was the thin cord that surrounded his
neck, ready to choke him if Lee moved his head forward more than an inch or
two. This isn't looking good, Crane. You
really stepped into it this time. Lee worried about the metal helmet, still
positioned above his head. It brought a flood of memories of the brainwashing
he received that resulted in an unsuccessful attempt to kill Nelson. What did
the maniac Decker have in store for him?
Decker
hummed as he placed the rubber tubing around Lee's left arm to bring up a vein,
an IV standing at the ready. With professional care, Decker got it started.
“Sorry
I had to poke you twice; it seems you're a bit dehydrated. If you’re wondering
about the IV, I found in the past the drug in the smaller pouch you are now
receiving would burn the vein and destroy it, causing intolerable pain. Now, I
don't mind that at all, but my subject would pass out before the drug could
prepare him. Mixed into and diluted by the saline solution, it takes a little
longer to be successful, but gives us time to have a little fun.
“A
colleague of mine developed a marvelous compound. It has such a long scientific
name I just call it the FW compound. I'm sure you will appreciate it. It’s
wonderful, only takes a minute amount to be effective. Let me demonstrate.”
He
produced a small vial from the metal cart, containing a liquid whose viscosity
resembled motor oil. Having previously put on latex gloves, Decker removed the
stopper and almost lovingly poured a thin line of the dark substance on Lee's
right thigh.
Lee was shocked by how cold it felt as it
touched his skin, but seconds later, it started to heat up. It wasn't even a
full minute before the affected area felt as if it was on fire and the feeling
spread over the entire leg. The intensity of pain increased as the burning
sensation traveled deeper into the limb. The agony was unbearable and Lee was
unable to stifle his moaning. The leg began to shake as the inferno continued
its path through the thigh, without the pain letting up.
He
pulled at the restraints, trying anything to stop the burning feeling. As he
pushed forward in a futile attempt to escape, the thin cord around his neck
began to strangle him. It forced Crane to lean back even as he continued his
attempt to break away from his bonds. The moans grew louder as he gasped for
air, the ferocious pain making it hard to breathe. It felt as if the leg was
being shoved into a roaring blaze and held there. He fell forward in a vain
attempt to escape. His vision was beginning to gray as the cord continued to
choke him. Lee knew he soon would pass out if he didn't pull back, but at least
that would stop him having to endure this agony.
Suddenly
another liquid drenched the flesh and the torment was over. Peering at his
thigh, he saw only a thin red line. There was no blistering, no flesh peeling
away from the bone, the evidence of a third or fourth degree burn. The
appendage still shook as the nerves sought to recover, but there was now only a
mild feeling of discomfort.
“Just
so you know, Commander, this little experiment lasted precisely three minutes.
Imagine what you would have experienced at ten minutes, thirty minutes. Oh, and
if you think fainting like a little girl will help you, I have an arsenal of
stimulants to bring you back to consciousness. The only way to stop the burning
is with the antidote I used. The trembling will subside soon and the redness
should disappear quickly. There is no permanent harm at first, but you should
know as I continue, each application will lead to nerve impairment. Can you
imagine not being even able to feed yourself because your hands shake so badly
from your destroyed nerves? Someone would have to dress you and take care of
you like a little baby.”
“I'm
not telling you anything, no matter what you do to me,” Lee bluffed, trying not
to tremble at that idea. For the first time he was afraid of being unable to
withstand the torture.
Decker
laughed maniacally. “Brave words, but a waste of your breath. You'll give me
what I want from you.”
But I've got a
little secret. I don't give a damn if you do talk. That would just be icing on
the cake. You interfered with two of my capers and cost millions of dollars and
almost wrecked my reputation. Now, I'm getting my revenge. It'd be so easy to
kill you but I want you to suffer. By the time we're done, you are going to
wish you were dead.
Decker
turned away, hiding the smile on his face.
All
during Lee's ordeal the drug continued to drip from the IV, working its way
into his system. Now that the horrific pain was gone, he began to feel the
effects. He was becoming disorientated, his face had a dazed expression; the
drug’s hypnotic qualities had begun its job.
Decker
increased the amount of the drug being mixed into the saline solution then
walked away to instruct the guards. While they adjusted the metal device on
Lee's head, Decker spoke to the technician, who had been standing silently by
the door, to ensure everything was ready. He was pleased with the rapid job the
two men had done with the video and pictures received from Santa Barbara. He
would start with the audio, the helmet had excellent speakers built in it.
“Lee,
you think a great deal about your crew, don't you?” Decker’s tone was tender
and soft, just one friend to another.
He
wanted to keep silent, but found it hard to resist. “They’re the best.”
“They
care about you, they respect you, is that what you mean?”
“Yes.
And I feel the same way about them.”
Don’t say anything, be careful, it’s some sort of trick. I can’t let him know
how much I admire my crew.
“Are
you sure that's how they really feel?”
“Of
course, they’re the best I ever had.” Shut
up, keep your mouth closed, don’t give him anything to work with.
Decker
again increased the flow from the IV. “Maybe you should hear what they are
saying about you behind your back. Relax and listen.”
He
made a motion towards the technician. The tech punched a couple of keys and
voices started coming through the speakers.
“What
a jerk, trying to be my buddy! Like to punch him in the face.” It was Kowalski.
“Thinks
he's so great. Someone needs to be taken down a peg or two.” That was Riley.
There
was a sneering sound, and Lee recognized O'Brien's voice, the words scornful.
“What a show off, don't know how the admiral puts up with him.”
One
after the other, members of the crew voiced thoughts he would never have
expected to hear. Next to speak was Sharkey, expressing the opinion that Lee
was “always thinking about himself,” and that he, Sharkey, couldn't stand to be
around him. Sparks was glad the skipper wasn't around; Maxwell thought he was
sneaky and underhanded, and not to be trusted. Worse still was Will Jamison:
“Comes back hurt, and wants attention. I could enjoy myself if he would stay
away.” This was followed by something that sent a chill through his heart: “Hope
he never comes back. It would put us out of our misery if somebody killed him.”
That came from easy-going, happy, Patterson, everybody's friend. But the words
that blazed through his brain were next: “It was a big mistake having him as
captain.” Admiral Nelson's voice. Quiet, calm. Condemning.
“So
what do you think now, Lee? How can you trust what they say to you, when you
know how they really feel?”
Don’t believe
him, Decker’s the enemy. “No, it's a trick. My men would never say
those things.”
Decker
signaled the technician again. He slightly increased the volume and replayed
the clip.
“It's
no trick; you can’t help but recognize the voices! They’ve been playing you for
a fool. Even Admiral Nelson, the man you think of as a father, doesn’t want you
around.”
The
drug flowing through his body was making it hard to resist Decker's words. Lee
barely felt the needle entering the vein and the cannula being taped tightly to
his other arm. Once more he heard the hurtful words from the men he trusted and
called his friends.
After
the clip was finished, Decker was ready.
“Their
own words betray them. You can no longer trust these men. Who knows what they
will do. I would be very afraid of what they’d do to you.”
Lies, this has
to be lies.
“No, they are loyal to me. We've been through too much together.”
“Loyal?
I don't think so. They know where you are. That's why it was so easy to capture
you. They betrayed you. They don't want you back on the boat. In fact, I just
spoke to Admiral Nelson. He wanted me to do this.”
“I
don't believe you. It isn't true!” He was saying the words, but already there
was not much conviction behind them, nothing to contradict the evil that Decker
was spouting. The drug was effectively opening Lee's mind to his captor’s
devious words.
Decker
once more donned the latex gloves and picked up the vial filled with the FW
compound, pouring a zigzag line on Lee's right
thigh, this time allowing more of the oil to spill onto the skin. Within
seconds the painful burning started, worse this time due to the increased
amount. It didn't take long for Lee to start jerking in the chair in a futile
attempt to escape the unrelenting fire spreading throughout the leg.
At
Decker's nod, the man at the computer again keyed up the audio, this time with
just a few comments.
“Someone
needs to take him down a peg or two. If we're lucky, he'll never come back.”
And again, the most distressing of all:
“It was a big mistake having him as captain.”
Even
though his head was held in place, Lee was able to look down at the thigh
expecting to see it engulfed in flames. His entire leg shook as the nerves
reacted to the compound. No words were strong enough to describe the agony he
was experiencing. Lee's breath came in short gasps as tears fell down his
cheeks. He began to black out, grateful for the relief unconsciousness would
bring. Just as his eyes started to close, Decker injected a strong stimulant
into the prepared cannula on the right arm. He cried out as the drug
immediately took effect, preventing that avenue of escape.
Lee
withstood the agony as long as possible.
“Stop
it, just make it stop!”
“Your
crew wanted you to suffer, but I'll take care of you.” Decker applied the
cooling antidote, releasing Lee from his agonizing torment. “You can trust me.
You may rest now. The guards will take you back to the cell. Someone will bring
you food in a while, I'm afraid you couldn't handle anything in your stomach
just yet.”
Decker's personality had done a total switch;
becoming concerned and almost tender. He disconnected the IV as Tweedledee and
Tweedledum released Crane.
“Careful
when you stand up, Lee, your leg will be weak. And I'm sorry but your left arm
will probably bother you for several hours. There will be a burning feeling
from the drug. I'm afraid it will cause you some discomfort. You must have
treated the crew very harshly for them to hate you so much.”
It
was difficult but Lee managed to stand under his own power but needed
assistance to walk. Between the lack of sleep, the beating and the two sessions
with Decker, he felt drained of energy. The only thing keeping Lee conscious
was the amphetamine.
The
man sitting by the key board looked confused as Lee leaned heavily on the guard
at his right side, almost dragging the leg as he left the room.
“Sir,
his leg shouldn't be any weaker than the left, unless I'm unaware of an
injury?”
“Power
of suggestion is a wonderful thing. Just a couple hours with the drug and
already it has the man susceptible to my words. It should be interesting
watching the surveillance in the cell to see if Crane has any imaginary pain in
his left arm.”
“You
told him how caustic the drug in the IV was.”
“Mind
games -- the worse it would do is make you feel a little warm at first. The
drug causes the brain to become pliable, suggestible. With its help, I'll
become someone he trusts, so I'm letting him sleep and eat. Meanwhile he will
replay what he heard today, laying the seeds of mistrust. With a couple
well-chosen words and phrases, the brave captain of Seaview is going to be turned into a babbling coward petrified of
his own shadow. Boris’s three-year-old son is less afraid of the bogeyman
hiding in his closet at night then Crane will be when I'm finished with him.
The conditioning will leave Lee terrified of anyone around him, sure that they
mean to inflict an agonizing and prolonged method of death upon him.
“You
heard me also telling Crane about the debilitating effects of the compound if
subject to prolonged usage, it was another lie for him to deal with. There are
no lasting effects, only a few moments of mild spasms. Can you imagine what
he's thinking, not knowing how much or how many times I'll use the compound on
him? Wondering what will happen to him as his strong physique breaks down,
robbing him of any independence. The
thought of that is priceless, I don't have to mutilate his body for revenge,
and his mind will do it for me. “
“Are
you going to have another crack at him tonight? Boris is still working on more
audio, and I’ve got some video ready but I need more time to finish it. That
Tompkins guy did a great job with the camcorder. He even pretended to be a
reporter and interviewed several people about working on Seaview and at the Institute. Lots of material to work with, and
Boris is a talented mimic who can fill in a missing word or two. “
“If
all goes as planned, Alex, the two of you can return to Russia by the end of
the week. I'll be off to India when this is over, and my dear uncle can resume
playing master of the castle once more. Our guest will not be disturbed any
further today. He needs to consider what he has heard, starting the doubting
process. Tomorrow we'll have three sessions, so make sure the video is ready.
You know how I want it set up.”
“Yes,
sir, it will be ready.”
*****
Three
hours later, Lee was brought some food, a bowl of thick soup and a hunk of
crusty bread, with an apple and glass of milk. At first he was suspicious,
worried it could be drugged. In his muddled state it was hard to think clearly,
but he was able to reason out Decker would have no need to be sneaky when Lee
was at his mercy. Having been without nourishment for nearly two days, he tore
into the meal with relish. A glass of milk never tasted so good. He tried not
to gulp it down. The juiciness of the apple also help quench his thirst. He
scraped the last bit of soup out of the bowl with the bread and settled back on
a straw mattress trying to get comfortable because of his ribs. His arm burned,
but it was a controllable discomfort if he kept his mind occupied with other
thoughts. Lee wasn't so wired since the stimulant was beginning to wear off,
and having food in the stomach also helped clear his head.
He
thought about all he heard today. It had to be a trick. He couldn't believe
what Kowalski had said about him; hadn’t they got past their confrontational
first meeting? Was he still holding a
grudge? And O'Brien; Lee had treated Frank, maybe not as a younger brother, but
as a friend who he encouraged and guided on his path to promotion. Did Frank
really see him as conceited? Sharkey had always been the admiral's man, but
hearing Francis say he couldn't stand him hurt. The Chief did get overly
enthusiastic with his suggestions at times and as captain, Lee often had to
reel him in. But these were command decisions; there had never been anything personal
about the rebukes.
The
most troublesome remark was Admiral Nelson’s. It was unbelievable he would
utter those sentiments. The admiral was a second father to Lee, having a
guiding hand in Lee's life since the sixth grade. Nelson had told him Seaview was his, the only man he ever
had wanted to command her. It was unimaginable that his ‘dad’ would want to
take the boat away from him.
Decker
was playing with him, trying to manipulate him, attempting to get Lee to reveal
some secrets. He had the bruises from the beatings to prove it. But why had he
stopped questioning him?
No, I won't
believe it. All this can't be true. He’s playing with my mind, trying to break
me. I‘ve got to remain strong.
The
heavy cell door was unlocked and Tweedledum came in to remove the food tray. He
first tossed a quart bottle of water to Lee.
“The
boss said to give you this and let you sleep.”
Lee
caught the bottle with both hands and placed it next to him. He rubbed the left
arm, trying to relieve the burning pain the sudden motion caused. The guard
picked up the dishes then left, grinning when he saw what the prisoner was
doing. Lee waited until he was alone. He opened the container and took several
large swallows. He was more confused than ever. Why would he get the extra
liquid? The saline solution the IV was enough to avoid the dangers of
dehydration. This present was for his comfort.
Not
wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, he tore off a corner of his
well-worn blanket and poured some of the precious liquid into the piece of
material. Lee wiped dry sweat from his face and neck, leaning back against the
wall enjoying even this little bit of comfort, wishing he could wash the rest
of his body. But it was insane to waste the limited resources. Crane wet the
cloth and placed it on his aching arm and held it in place, then re-wet the
blanket piece once more and put it a little lower on the forearm hoping to
relieve the rest of the burning sensation. Lee had a few more sips then tightly
closed the lid, firmly holding it to his chest as he lay down to rest. Sleep
would stop the disquieting thoughts running through his head. He would be
stronger, more rational tomorrow and be able to make more sense of it all.
It
took a long while before Admiral Nelson's voice and hard to accept words left
his mind and then the nightmare started.
There
was a hooded person using the cat o’ nine tails on Lee and somewhere in the
back, voices encouraging the man to hit harder. That faded away to him being
tied to a spit, slowly roasting over a roaring fire, while several crewmembers
cooked hot dogs on sticks.
Lee
jerked awake pleading with his men for help. With shaky hands, he drank water
and tried to calm his pounding heart. It must be night for the cell was almost
in complete darkness. There was only a beam of light coming through the slot at
the bottom of the door where a tray of food could be passed. The light helped
chase the monsters away as Lee tried to shake the nightmare from his thoughts.
He pulled the thread worn blanket tightly around him, trying to ward off the
damp chill from the stone walls.
Too bad I don't
have that campfire to warm this cell, just don't want to be hogtied above it.
Come on, Crane, you’ve endured tougher places than this; at least you are dry
and safe from animals, at least the four-legged kind.
Lee
took a final swig and laid down trying to fall back to sleep. His eyelids soon
drooped and his breathing slowed as he drifted off.
The
second dream brought him abruptly awake. He was in the middle of a crowd being
shoved from person to person as they berated him. Lee could only partially
remember all that was said. Patterson’s words, that quiet and easy-going man,
came first. “Put us out of our misery if somebody would kill him.” How could
Pat want him dead? He always had a smile for the captain when they passed each
other in the corridor on Seaview. And
Lee could not erase the admiral's words as he roughly pushed him away. “It was
a big mistake having him as captain.” That had to be a lie; the two men had
forged a relationship stronger than friendship. Nelson wanted him on Seaview, didn't he?
Lee
had no way to figure the time or how close it was to morning and the next
session with Decker. He weighed the water bottle with his hand, estimating
about a cup left. He was torn. Should he finish it or save the rest for
tomorrow, not knowing if it would still be in the cell when he returned? He
guessed there was perhaps two hours left before the torture would begin again.
Making up his mind, Lee drank half the remaining contents; he would empty the
bottle at first sound of the guards coming for him. He settled back on the
straw, grasping the bottle to his chest. It was a small thing, but something
Lee could control. He was the captain of the water bottle and he had made his
decision. Nelson couldn't take this command away from him.
Chapter 7
Chip
didn't have any luck questioning Fisher, Lee's contact at the Frankfurt
consulate. Fisher was positive no one had been lurking about. When he heard
Chip was coming, he checked through the consulate’s security tapes again, but
nothing stood out that night or the night before or after. There were no
reports made to security of suspicious activities around the building.
Fisher
offered the tapes to Chip who watched them already knowing nothing would show
up. Fisher was a professional; he would not have missed someone loitering
especially after Lee's disappearance. Chip showed the agent Schmidt's picture
and together they scanned the tapes again. Chip had been correct in his fears,
no signs of the taxi or its driver.
“When
Crane was an hour past due, and wasn’t answering his cell phone, I sent a
member of my security team to backtrack but there wasn't a sign of him or any
accident. By then it was dark making it difficult to see. I took a team and we
went over the route at first light. I thought we might find skid marks or some
sign of a car being forced off the road. Once on the autobahn, it would be
almost impossible to tell.”
“But
don't you think if the kidnapping happened on the autobahn someone would've
noticed and reported it?”
“At
that time of night with the speed of the cars I don't believe anyone would be
foolish enough to try anything. I'm betting the abduction happened on a city
road. The team didn't find any trace of blood at the couple places that showed
tire prints on the shoulder of the road.”
The
good news was no blood, the bad news there were 60 miles where Lee could have
been waylaid if Fisher was correct about the autobahn. The Marine who had been
on duty was questioned. He backed up Fisher's statement of no unusual activity.
“I'm
sorry, but I didn't notice anyone out of the ordinary. When Mr. Fischer advised
me of Commander Crane's visit, I was extra vigilant.”
When
the Marine didn't recognize a photo of Schmidt, Chip thanked him and the sergeant returned to duty.
*****
In
the meantime, Kowalski and Patterson were making the rounds, showing Schmidt’s
photo to the businesses and stores around the area. Both were becoming more and
more discouraged at the negative answers. Ski knew the idea had been a long
shot but both had gotten their hopes up. They joined Mr. Morton in Fisher's
office trying not to show their discouragement. Kowalski knew this whole mess
was hardest on the XO. Everyone on Seaview
knew of their closeness.
“Sorry,
sir, Patterson and I struck out. No one recalls anyone looking even remotely
like our suspect.”
“Thanks,
Kowalski, we all knew there was just a slim chance someone would recognize this
guy.”
Chip
filled in the two men about the other futile search efforts. Shaking hands,
they left Fisher offering to continue checking what he could and the
disheartened men returned to the rental car, Patterson once more behind the
wheel.
“Where
to, sir?”
“Back
to the hotel, Pat.”
Kowalski
had hoped that Mr. Morton would suggest stopping to eat. He was concerned about
the XO. Everyone always joked about his hearty appetite, but in the past couple
days he was eating more like the skipper. Ski decided to risk the exec’s
temper.
“Mr.
Morton, why don't we get some lunch. You didn't eat much breakfast and it’s a
three-hour drive back.”
“I'm
not very hungry.”
Pat
jumped into the discussion. “With all due respect, sir, you are always after
the skipper to eat. Don't you think you should follow your own advice? Besides,
the police detective said he should have the report when we get back. If we
stopped now, you can start in on it as soon as we get back to the hotel.”
“I
knew my nagging would come back and bite me one day. Okay, you win. Lunch it
is.”
*****
Chip
had to admit, he had been running on empty. He was aware of the two men’s
concern about his well-being and had to laugh as they kept trying to get him to
sample their dishes. He politely accepted a small portion of each entrée and
agreed both were very tasty. Now sitting in the back of the car, he was working
out a plan of attack regarding tomorrow's talk with Herr Schmidt. Chip hope
Detective Benner was able to discover something they could use as leverage.
Chip
was startled when the car abruptly jerked to a halt. A child had run out into
the street and Pat’s alert driving had avoided hitting the young boy. Morton looked sheepishly towards the front
seat, surprised he had fallen asleep during the drive back to Bitburg. Pat
glanced into the rearview mirror and gave him a small smile.
“Sorry
about that, sir. He came out of nowhere.”
“Don't
worry about it, Pat. It's better than being tossed from my rack when Seaview gets hit by a seaquake. How much
longer?”
“We'll
be at the hotel in fifteen minutes, sir. Any orders?”
“I'll
need to see what the detective has, Pat. Then we'll plan our attack. Why don't
you and Kowalski check with the taxi company and see if they have heard
anything from Schmidt. Find out what time he's due at work.”
“Aye,
aye, sir. And maybe Eva has more of those pfeffernusse cookies Ski was scarfing
down.”
Kowalski
gave his friend a jab to the shoulder and turned to the exec.
“I
was just being diplomatic, sir. We were accusing her company of illegal acts.”
“Ambassador
Kowalski, has a nice ring to it, don't you agree, Patterson?”
The
laughter helped lighten the mood in the car. The trip’s negative results were
not unexpected, but still deflating. Chip had hoped for something; now they
were back to relying on what, if anything, the taxi driver would reveal. Morton
stopped by the front desk where he picked up the thick envelope from Benner and
ordered a pot of coffee sent to his room. It looked like he had some reading to
do.
Ski
and Pat returned with news that Schmidt had called and was told to report for
the 10 to 6 shift tomorrow.
“Richard
talked to him and swore he didn't let on we had been there. He told us it would
only take ten minutes for our guy to get to work.”
“Right,
we'll go to the house around nine. It will prevent anyone from slipping up and
warning him that we were asking questions.”
“Anything
good in the report, sir?”
“Nothing
so far, Ski. Mostly personal information; birthplace, parents’ names and his
schooling. I'm just getting to his work history. I had a message to call the
Institute. Angie passed on the fact Schmidt is unknown to ONI or any other
agency. They are still digging. As far as they can tell, he's never been to the
U.S., at least not under that name.” He paused to take a sip of coffee and
motioned towards the pot. “Help yourself, not as strong as Cookie’s, but still
good.”
“Mr.
Morton, did the report say what he studied? Speaking all those languages, I was
wondering what his career plans were.”
“Good
point, Pat. He dropped out of college after his first year. He learned English
and French in high school but there wasn't any mention of the other language
classes in college. Maybe his work history will shed some light.”
The
two men poured their coffee and read the parts Morton had finished. Pat pointed
out the mother passed away while Schmidt was in high school and his father died
right after he completed his first year in college, probably the reason he left
school.
Schmidt
had numerous jobs in many cities. When he finally ended up in Berlin, he got a
job with a tour agency, first as a driver. The owner had commented on how
swiftly Schmidt picked up the language from
different countries and how personable he was with the travelers, and he had
soon been promoted to a tour guide. He worked
there for fifteen years. Benner had contacted the agency, now run by the son.
When he left he was their top guide, having visited Eastern Europe, China, and
even some Middle Eastern countries. Finally, Schmidt had returned from a
month-long tour of Russia when he unexpectedly quit, giving no reason.
There
had never been any more trouble than usual with his groups. A missing wallet, a
lost passport, and an occasional accident; the same everyday mishaps that
occurs when a large group travels. The son did recall the death of a tourist on
one of the trips, but the subsequent police investigation
had turned up no more than an unlucky bit of chance. The woman had walked into
a robbery in progress and been shot. One month later Schmidt quit and in less
than a month he was in Bitburg. The taxi driver job had started two years ago,
and within six months he’d gotten the
dispatcher's job.
At
least that explains the languages. Chip was curious about the murdered woman.
Was it a coincidence that Schmidt left his job three months later? He made a
note to ask the detective and Admiral Johnson for more info. He handed the last
pages to Ski and Pat then got up and stretched his legs. Staring at the window
looking out he wondered if they were fooling themselves. Would they find Lee
alive?
*****
It
was only three hours later when Chip heard back from the police detective. They
were both surprised the dead woman was a British national. Benner said the
killer was never caught. Chip contacted ONI to see if they could do a fast
check. He was awakened at four in the morning by an irate Admiral Johnson yelling
and wanting to know what the hell Morton had gotten himself mixed up in. The
routine check with the British for some information had resulted in Johnson
getting a call from MI6 just as he was sitting down to dinner with some guests.
After the usual game playing the intelligence agency had admitted that the dead
tourist had actually been one of ‘theirs.’ They
wanted to know what interest ONI had.
“Admiral,
I was playing a hunch but had no idea there was any espionage involved. The man
that was the tour guide at the time of the murder is a suspect in Commander
Crane's disappearance. I thought maybe he was involved in smuggling or perhaps
a gang of thieves. My plan was to try and bluff him about the murder.”
“How
sure are you he's involved?”
“I
don't know, sir. I found it interesting after fifteen years he would quit his
job without a notice or reason just a month after the death. I'll be
questioning him in a couple hours. What can I use about the British agent?”
“I
have to talk to my counterpart in London. I’ll get back to you as soon as
possible.”
Chip
leaned back against the headboard thinking. Could the British agent have been
in the wrong place at the wrong time? If that was the case, Lee was probably
dead. The ability to kill an innocent person so easily did not look good for
Crane. Was his friend a victim of a simple mugging gone wrong? No, not with the
removal of his personal effects from his room. Or was it what everyone thought
at first, whoever grabbed him somehow knew about the manuscript? Was it just by
chance some criminal recognized Lee as the captain of Seaview and was after its secret? Was Schmidt involved with the MI6
agent’s death or just an unlucky guy? These questions and more were going
around in Morton's head while he waited for the admiral’s return call. When the
cell phone went off, Chip grabbed it before the second ring.
“Okay,
Commander. The official story from MI6 is she was employed by them but was on
vacation with her German husband and not on any assignment. Unofficially, there
was a lead she was chasing but as far as they could tell, it turned out to be a
dead end. MI6 won't share with us any Intel but approved the use of the
official story. You didn't hear it from me, Commander, but if you want to imply
something more, I would think it would be very beneficial when questioning your
suspect. Nothing like thinking a government’s intelligence agency is after you
for murdering one of their people.”
“Yes
sir! I totally agree with you. And since we are civilians, our government isn't
involved, either. Once I'm finished with Schmidt I'll contact Agent Gordon and
pass along anything I learn.”
“Gordon’s
up to speed regarding this new information. He hasn't found anything
suspicious. None of the other agencies have heard any increased chatter. We’re
pretty sure there is no terrorist involvement.”
“Then
Gordon is returning to the Czech Republic?”
“No,
that mission is finished. I'm giving him another 24 hours then I'll be
reassigning him. Of course, he is due some vacation time. I hear the Black Forest
is lovely this time of year,” Johnson said very
clearly. “Keep me posted, Commander.”
“Yes,
sir, good night.”
The
implication was clear, and Chip was grateful with the addition of the trained
ONI operative to their team. Give him a giant jellyfish attacking Seaview or a mad scientist running amok
on the boat and he could handle it. This spy stuff was Lee's cup of tea. He
scooted down on the bed, hoping to get a little more sleep. He had to be sharp
when talking to Schmidt if he was going to get any helpful information out of
him.
*****
Heinrich
Schmidt was having a great morning. Taking ‘sick’ time was always a good thing
after pulling a job for Decker. He was conveniently absent when the police
would show up asking their stupid questions. It
had worked out for him when the scientist friend of Herr Klink had been ‘mugged’
shortly after leaving his cab. There was another ‘witness’ so he was never
implicated in the attack, but still it was better to be safely out of reach of
the police.
Decker
called when Crane showed up due to von Kempner’s health. They had to be
prepared to stop him from leaving Germany any way they could. Schmidt was
informed about the bug placed on the professor’s phone. It was a stroke of luck
that the call came in from the house to pick up a passenger.
Planning
ahead for any possibility, Schmidt complaining early in the morning of feeling
ill. If he needed a reason for a sudden absence, it wouldn't raise any
suspicion. The plan had been to grab Crane, that he took something away from
the professor’s house was pure gravy.
Working
for a small cab company in Bitburg was beneath him, but the jobs he received
from Herr Decker more than made up for it. He snickered to himself when Richard
told him to come in at 10 o'clock, how he must be tired out after all his
treatments. They knew they had a good thing with him working as the dispatcher;
they had never received a single complaint. Eva knew the company couldn't get
along without him for very long. He glanced at his watch when the doorbell rang,
irritated someone would disturb him so early.
The
three men were standing on Heinrich Schmidt’s doorstep when the door was yanked
open and their suspect stood before them.
“Was
möchten Sie? Stimmt etwas nicht?
Chip
went into his XO mode, quickly and forcefully answering the questions.
“What
we want is to ask you some questions and what is wrong is our friend is
missing, Herr Schmidt. You were the last person to see Herr Crane. I'm sure you
want to help us find him.”
Schmidt
looked at the men with a startled expression that quickly turned to fear.
“Ich
verstehem Sie nicht.” He tried playing the fool, acting like he didn't know
what they were saying.
“Don't
say you can't understand us, we know you speak fluent English.”
Reluctantly
the man switched to English.
“I
don't know anything about your friend. Now leave, I have to go to work.”
Morton
wasn't backing down. “No, you’re going to talk to us, and I suggest we do it
inside. Unless you want your neighbors to know you are a murderer?”
Schmidt
had started to shut the door in Chip’s face but the word murderer stopped him.
He tone was curt when he responded.
“I
haven't murdered anyone. What right have you to accuse me of such a crime?”
“Inside.”
Kowalski and Patterson pushed the protesting Schmidt back into his house. The
men did not pull their guns in public, but casually pushed back their jackets revealing
the concealed weapons.
“I'll
call the police!”
“Please
do and ask for polizei kriminalrat Benner. He's been doing a lot of checking up
on you. About three years ago, a young woman was killed. The police concluded
she was an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that's
not true. She was a British subject. In fact, as you know, she worked for MI6.
That's why you killed her, she found out what you were involved in. Your job as
a tour guide
made it easier for you to travel to other countries, didn’t it? I have to admit it was a great cover.
“You have a nasty habit of being around when bad things happen. Murder
in one case, kidnapping in another.” Chip couldn’t and wouldn’t say the
word dead when referring to Lee; he had to remain optimistic his brother was
alive.
“You're
crazy. Of course, I remember her. Who could forget such a terrible thing? She
was traveling with her husband. She wanted to buy an anniversary present for
him, that's why she was alone. And I
never saw this man Crane you are talking about.”
“Please
don't insult my intelligence. The woman was a trained agent on assignment and
somehow you found that out and murdered her. I'm sure you’re aware there is no
statute of limitation on murder. When MI6 was contacted last night, they were
very grateful. I wouldn't be surprised to see someone on the doorstep anytime
now. Or maybe some other government will take care of you as payback for other
incidents in their country. We did send inquiries to other places you’ve
traveled to.”
Chip
was taking a chance with that last part, but it made sense that the killing and
Lee’s disappearance weren’t the only crimes Schmidt was involved in.
A
bead of sweat appeared on Schmidt’s forehead. “Why are you saying this? I told you,
I have never murdered anyone, It is possible I had your friend as a fare but I
do not recall picking him up. Leave me
alone!”
Chip
could see he was finally getting to Schmidt. He had to turn up the heat some
more.
“You’ve
seen the movies. Someone pushed under a bus. Maybe some digitalis in your
coffee, untraceable after a few hours. Or perhaps a mugging, shot down in some
back alley. You can forget all about the proper Brit, that’s only for the
diplomatic world. The world you live in is dirty -- an eye for an eye.”
“Nein,
what you say is not true.” Schmidt was sweating profusely
now, looking out of the front window as if expecting to see his executioner
standing there.
“James
Bond was based on facts. Agents are licensed to kill. I can see them fighting
over who's going to do the job. You killed one of them -- now it's personal.”
All
during Morton's tirade, Patterson and Kowalski kept crowding Schmidt, breathing
down his back. Kowalski now addressed Chip.
“Sir,
maybe we should leave. Who knows, England's not that far away. Maybe the
assassin has been here already. A bomb placed under the house, a deadly gas
slowly poisoning the air in this room. Or he could be across the street with a
high-powered rifle, just waiting to take the kill shot. That would be my best
guess. We could end up as collateral damage.”
Chip
turned to Pat. “Did you bring the handcuffs?”
“Yes,
sir.” Patterson pulled out a set from his pocket.
“Good,
let's cuff him and put him in the chair. But first, move it closer to the
window, might as well make it easier for our allies. If he doesn't know
anything about Crane as he claims, he's no good to us. Let the British take
care of him.”
Kowalski
positioned the chair right in the center of the window and opened the drape a
little to give the ‘shooter’ a better view. Pat shoved the now panic-stricken
man into the seat, and handcuffed his wrists behind his back.
“Gott
helfe mie. I swear I did not kill anyone!”
“God
can't help you, but maybe I can. What did you do with our friend Lee Crane?
Where is he?”
Schmidt
was now drenched in sweat, shaking so hard it was amazing he didn’t fall out of
the chair.
“He'll
kill me.” Schmidt struggled to stand, but stopped when two guns pointed
directly at his head.
“You're
dead if you don't talk. Tell me what I want to know and you might have a chance
to escape.”
“I
can't. You don't know what kind of man he is.”
“Maybe
you're right. A nice clean shot will be nice and quick. Are you sure you won't
tell me where Crane is?”
“He's
mad. He grabbed Crane for revenge.” Schmidt was babbling, “What do you think
he'll do to me if I tell you anything more?”
“You
could give yourself up to the German police. I don't think the British
government would want an international incident by eliminating you in a German
prison.”
“I
swear, I never hurt that woman. On my mother's grave, I swear it.”
“I’m
tired of you swearing you don’t know. I’m not an idiot. I want answers! Tell me
where Lee Crane is, I might be able to convince the police of that. You save
Crane's life and it might go in your favor.”
Schmidt
was close to hyperventilating now, the fear etched on his face. Still, he held
his tongue.
“Last
chance. What do you know about Lee Crane?”
Silence.
“Okay,
let's go. I really don't like the sight of blood. Sorry we couldn't help. Enjoy
the last few minutes of your life. Who knows, maybe it will be several hours
before the gunman shows up. You can repent your sins to that God you called for
help.”
Chip
started walking away, mentally crossing his fingers. If this didn't work, they
would need to get physical. Beating a helpless man appalled him, but he would
do anything to save his close friend. He reached the front door.
“One
of you get the ropes out of the car and tie him to the chair. We'll leave him
to his fate.”
Just
as his hand touched the handle, Schmidt called out. Terrified, he fell to his knees attempting to
rise out of the chair. “Decker, the man's name is Decker!”
Chip
was on him in a minute pulling him up to his feet with ease, shaking Schmidt
for answers. When he wouldn't say anything else, Morton exploded. A fist
conducted with Schmidt's jaw, and he crumpled. Ski and Pat threw the
unconscious man back onto the seat, removing the cuffs and roughly wrapping his
arms behind the back of the chair where they re-secured his wrists with the
handcuffs. Chip went to the small kitchen and filled up a pitcher he found in
the dish drainer and splashed the water into Schmidt's face. Stepping back, he
waited until the man revived, and started the questioning.
“Don't
give me that crap about you not knowing. Who is this guy Decker? What does he
want with my friend?”
Perhaps
realizing what he’d done, Heinrich kept his mouth shut.
“How
do you know Decker wants revenge? Tell me what you know about Decker’s and
Crane’s past!” Chip yelled at Schmidt.
“I
don't know.”
“Yes,
you do. Earlier you said it was for revenge. Why does he want retaliation?”
“Why
don’t you believe me? I don't know. I
told you who took your friend, now let me go!”
The
German seemed to regain some courage, declining to part with any further
information. Morton kept after him, demanding to know where Lee was being held,
but Schmidt refused to answer. During this interrogation, and seeing things
were at an impasse, Patterson left the house, trotting over to their car.
Hoping to ‘encourage’ Heinrich, Pat removed the visor’s mirror and angled the
glass to catch the sun. The reflected glare bounced through the house’s front
window, right into Schmidt’s face for a second or two.
Schmidt
jerked his head. “What the hell is that?”
Ski
caught on quickly, having observed Pat's exit.
“I've
seen this before, the sun reflects off the scope of a rifle. Sir, you better
stand away from the window,” Kowalski cautioned, enjoying his role in this
charade.
Chip
looked at Kowalski, momentarily confused. A weapon wouldn't produce a glare
like that. At Ski's wink, he realized what was happening and moved several
steps to the left.
“Get
me out of here. You can't let them kill me in cold blood!”
“Why
not, you’re a murderer and a kidnapper! Who knows what other crimes you have committed?”
What
courage Schmidt had reclaimed quickly left him.
“I
swear to you, I never killed anyone. I don't have the nerve to do something
like that. Please, uncuff me.” Schmidt attempted to stand, almost tipping over
the chair.
“You
should be safe as long as we're here. But if you don't cooperate, we're out of
here and who knows what will happen. Where is Crane being held? Or are you
frightened to tell us you’ve killed him too?”
Chip
stomach tightened, afraid of what the answer might be. It could be the reason
for the cab driver’s reluctance to talk.
“Nein,
nein, he was unharmed when I saw him.”
“Now
we’re getting someplace. When and where was that?”
“You
know the answer. I was the taxi driver who picked him up at Professor von
Kempner's place.”
“I
already knew that!” Chip wanted to scream in frustration, but instead used the
skills he’d honed over the years questioning crewmen. “Tell me something I don't.
What happened to him?”
Schmidt
looked out the window trying to see the assassin, maybe figuring out his
chances of evading the bullet so he wouldn't have to admit to anything further.
“Come
on; quit stalling. What did you do to our friend? We're losing our patience!”
Kowalski
made a show of removing his jacket. He cracked his knuckles, muttering under
his breath just loud enough that he was going to enjoy this. Nodding towards
his coat, he casually mentioned it was new and didn't want to get blood all over
it. Ski walked up behind their prisoner and roughly yanked his head backwards
by the hair.
“You
heard my boss, stop stalling and start talking! Tell me, have you ever been
pistol whipped?”
Kowalski
was really getting into his role as the enforcer and Chip played along with
him. “Take it easy kid, let’s give the man one more chance.” Standing in front
of the chair, he leaned forward, his face inches away from Schmidt.
“What
do you say, Schmidt? Tell us where Crane is or I'll turn the kid loose on you.
Once he gets worked up, it's hard to stop him.” Ski gave the hair another not
so gentle tug.
Heinrich
turned so pale Chip was afraid he would pass out. He was perspiring freely and
biting his lips.
“All
I know is Decker hated your guy Crane. He ordered us to nab him and we did.”
Morton
let out an exaggerated sigh, stepped back away from the man, and looked at
Kowalski. “Okay, he's all yours; just give him a sample of what will happen,
but just use your fists, this time.”
Chip
knew Kowalski never was one to back away from a fight, but this was different.
Beating up a defenseless man went against their code. He also knew that Ski was
closer to Lee than any of the other ratings, and Chip could count on him to
follow through no matter how distasteful this job was. The skipper's life
depended on it. Kowalski let go of the hair, and took a couple menacing steps
putting him face to face with Schmidt.
“Well,
what's it going to be, buddy?”
Schmidt
shook his head and sobbed. “I've told you all I know.” He closed his eyes and
flinched, waiting for the blows.
Morton
showed two fingers, Ski nodded his understanding and delivered a fist into
Heinrich’s gut, followed with a rapid, but restrained, jab to the jaw. All the
punches got out of the bound man was some moaning and pleading not to kill him.
“Get
him out of the chair and put him on the couch.”
Pat,
who had returned, unlocked the handcuffs to allow Schmidt to stand then shoved
him down on the middle cushion of the couch. Chip sat next to him, hoping the
sudden change in tactics would throw the man of balance.
“Look,
Schmidt, you're safe from the sniper for now. I did my good deed, now it's time
for yours. Start at the beginning.”
“I've
told you and told you. Decker ordered us to kidnap Crane.”
“Where
did you take him?”
He
shook his head hysterically. “I don't know, I never know these things.”
“And
who does, or did you just shoot him?”
“Nein!
He was unhurt when...”
“When
WHAT! What happened?” Now that Schmidt had started, Chip had to keep him
talking.
“They
moved him to another vehicle to take him away.”
“Good,
now we're getting somewhere. Who moved him and what kind of car were they
driving?”
“Johann
and Karl in a black SUV.”
“Last
names? What about the car plates?”
“Why
would I know that? And we only use first
names.”
“So
you never meet or speak to them at other times?”
“No,
only when we get orders from Herr Decker.”
“And
these two men drove away with our friend, but he was all right?”
“Ja.
We were told no rough stuff. But Karl … Karl has a bad temper at times.”
“Descriptions
of these men?”
“Thirty
to thirty-five, average height and weight, both have short light brown hair.”
“Nothing
to distinguish them, to help us identify them?”
“They
are just average looking.”
“What
about Herr Decker? He's the mastermind behind this, what does he look like?”
“I
don't know -- I don't know! I met him over 20 years ago and he was standing in
the shadows.” Schmidt started crying. “They don't tell me anything except what
I need to do.”
“So
you spy on hotel guests and pick up VIP's in your taxi, trying to overhear
information.” Chip let Schmidt know what they had uncovered, hoping to prod
something more out of him.
“Ja,
ja – that's all I do – no violence. I don't like violence. I call Herr Decker
when I have information.”
Morton
pounced on this. “You called him! What was the number, maybe we can get it
traced?”
“It's
always a disposable cell.”
“Do
Karl and Johann know where this Decker lives?”
“I
don't know,” Schmidt sighed. “They might have delivered your friend to where
he's staying or someplace else. Please, I've told you all I know. Let me leave.
I've never harmed anyone. I'm too much of a coward.”
“What
about the British agent? What was your part in that?”
“I
was to a keep an eye on her and call the number Herr Decker gave me if I
found out she would be alone. That's all I did, I swear. Now, can I go?”
“You
set up a woman to be killed. I think the police will be very interested. Keep
an eye on him; I've got to make a call. Better yet, put the cuffs back on him.”
“Nein,
you promised! Wait! I'll… I'll make you a deal. I have one more piece of
information to trade you for a fifteen minute head start.”
Chip
paused with the phone in his hand, thinking.
“Talk
fast; I'm dialing in 30 seconds. One, two…”
“I
heard Johann speaking about Neuerburg, about having to drop off a package
there.”
“That's
it?”
“Package
is what we call whatever we pass on to Herr Decker.”
“You’ve
got five minutes, starting now.”
Afraid
to argue about the difference in time, Schmidt tore out of the room. He took precious seconds to get his passport and retrieve the cache of emergency getaway money he had
taped under the table. His car barely turned the corner when three
police cars arrived. Patterson had been waiting out front and quickly gave a
description of the car and plate number to the officers along with the
direction the car was traveling. Two of the cars took off after the fugitive
and the third, containing Benner, stopped. By the time he exited the vehicle,
Morton and Kowalski were outside. Chip removed the wire he was wearing, and
handed it over to the detective.
“I
don't think I ever want to play cards with you, Herr Morton.”
“Did
you get everything? For what it's worth, I think he was telling the truth. He
just passes on what he learns by eavesdropping.”
“Unfortunately,
with no last names or distinguishing marks or characteristics, I'm afraid we'll
never capture Karl or Johann. That description fits a third of the men in
Bitburg, and I doubt they are local if you believe Schmidt had never seen them
except when he was working for this Decker guy.”
“Have
you ever heard of him?”
“No,
but maybe our intelligence division or your ONI or CIA has.”
Chapter 8
Morning
came too soon. He heard the rattling of the key in the door and rapidly
finished the water. Crane was unceremoniously dragged out of the cell scraping
his feet on the stone floor, and the blood left a trail. The two Tweedle brothers deposited him in
the torture room. They bypassed the chair this time and strapped Lee down onto
the exam table. Besides his wrists and ankles, a leather band was tightly
placed over his waist, aggravating his damaged ribs.
Something
new had been added to the room, a large screen TV was now facing him. This time
Tweedledee inserted the needles in both arms. After starting the piggy backed
IV at a very rapid rate, the guards gave the restraints
a final tug leaving Lee alone in the now dark room. He didn't know what
was coming. In their past encounters, the sadist had been merciless in the
beatings but this was new, and more ominous.
He
had no idea how long he was tied to the table, waiting for something to happen.
Lee
could not tell where the sounds were coming from. They were talking but the
words were mumbled and hard to make out. More laughter, this time louder, and
in different areas of the room. A short conversation began between two men.
He recognized Simpson’s voice but could not quite place the other.
“I'm
having a great time, so easy when he's not around messing things up.”
“I
know what you mean, Bert; no one has to worry about their lives when the
captain's gone.”
The
rest of what they were saying faded away to sounds of children playing coming
from somewhere else. A group of unknown women was talking.
“Because
of him, my husband will never see his boy grow up.”
“He
should be in prison for what he did.”
“Don't
worry, he's being punished now, the admiral is seeing to it.”
All
three started to laugh at this thought. Lee attempted to twist his head around,
trying to locate where the voices were coming from but to no avail.
As
quickly as the noise started, it stopped, leaving Lee in an eerie silence. The
drug was making it difficult to tell reality from fantasy. Who were those
women? What had he done to cause them to hate him? The admiral? He wanted Lee
punished? Crane could not understand. After several long minutes of silence,
the whole room erupted. Voices and merriment sounded all over the place. Lee
again heard the men from yesterday, the same terrible thoughts repeatedly. The
hateful sentiments they expressed were ringing in his ears. Men he had worked
and lived closely with were staying they mistrusted him, wished him harm, even
hated him.
No, this isn’t
true. I would die protecting these people. Why would they feel this way? I have
to get to them, find out what I did wrong and make it right.
Other
voices erupted, some he’d never heard before, and others he knew as members of Seaview, all saying disturbing things.
Burke, who he had pulled out from a water-filled compartment, almost drowning
in the attempt, was now blaming him for the accident that caused the flooding.
Another crewman commented how everyone laughed at Crane behind his back, thought
he was an incompetent fool. And the admiral's harsh words, “I have to get rid
of him before he destroys everything.”
Numerous
voices rose in a chant of “yes, yes” and Nelson voice again, “I have to get rid
of him.” The crowd was cheering.
Suddenly
the voices went away. Lee tried to see the people in the black corners of the
chamber, needing to talk and reason with them.
“Who
are you? Please talk to me. Let me explain, please. I don't understand why you
hate me. I can't see anybody.”
No
one answered. Lee twisted his body trying to find anyone to speak to, he had to
set things right. He pulled at the straps holding him down, but it was useless,
only resulting in more pain from his damaged ribs.
Lee
did not know how long before the door opened and Tweedledee returned and
flipped the switch, nearly blinding him with the suddenness of the lights. The
guard then replaced the empty IV bag and left without a word, turning off the
lights again. He waited in silence for a long time before Decker and Alex
entered. The maniac stood next to the exam table, Alex by the computer station.
“I have a surprise for you.” Decker signaled Alex who started the video. “I know how
you miss seeing your friends, well here they are.”
Lee couldn’t understand
what he was seeing. Kowalski, Patterson, and Riley were on the screen. Weren’t
they just in the room?
The three men were facing Lee, appearing to
speak with someone in the room. It was Ski who spoke first.
“We all agree, we wanted you to do it.”
The German replied, his voice sounding like he was conversing
with old friends.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, and make sure you do a good job.”
“That's right Stu, he deserves everything he
gets.”
“Okay guys, I'm all set on this end. Tell me when to stop.” Decker poured FW compound on Lee’s chest right on top of the nipples, knowing it was the most sensitive
part.
Lee jerked as his upper body went into
spasm. Panting to get his breath back, Lee suddenly convulsed as Decker applied
more of the oil to his right arm. His shouts of
agony want unnoticed and his pleas ignored.
“That's what I'm talking about!” yelled
Kowalski. “Let’s see some more.”
Decker obliged by applying a thin line on
the other arm. Patterson urged Decker not to stop. Lee couldn’t hold back and his screams and cries of pain echoed off the
walls.
The men clapped their hands in appreciation.
Riley yelled out, “keep going,” the sound of applause and joyous laughter blocked out by the yells and screams from the prisoner.
With the severe jerking of the arms, the
German checked the IV to ensure it was firmly in place, allowing the drug to
continue to flow into Lee's body. By his actions so far, Crane was proving very
susceptible to the drug’s effects. This morning he had received a larger dose
than yesterday, and Decker was just starting. He checked his watch, it was six
minutes from the time he first poured the compound, now he used the
neutralizing agent. He had realized the wisdom of using the burning agent for
short durations of time.
He allowed Lee time to partially recover, his breathing slowly
returning to normal.
“Drink this; I know you must be parched.”
Decker was once more playing his part. He held the water up to Lee. “I'm sorry
to be doing this to you, but I accepted the job. These guys really hate you,
don't they? I can't believe they want you to suffer so much. I pray you are never
alone with any of them. Personally, I would be terrified. I'll try and get them to go a little easier on you.”
“Tthh-ank you, I never knew
they felt this way. I always trusted them to have my back,”
Lee stated in a dejected tone of voice.
“I'm the only one you can trust. I'll try
and protect you as much as possible, but they're out for your blood. I'm sure
you're horrified by what these men want to do to you.”
During this conversation, the sound from the
screen was muted, but now, as planned, the volume was turned up. Jamie had
joined the group and
supposedly addressed Decker.
“I wouldn't miss this for anything in the
world. Glad I got here in time. Thank you, sir.”
At the end of the doctor's words Decker had turned his back so his sadistic smile went unseen by Lee. The session was
almost at the end, just a final consoling moment needed to be acted out. He took a cool, damp washcloth and wiped the drool and sweat off Crane's
face.
“I'll take care of you. It's all over for
now, Lee. You can relax.” He lifted
the glass of water to Lee’s lips. “Drink some of this and take
it easy. Just close your eyes, you're exhausted. You’re safe for the
moment. Those monsters can’t get their claws into you yet.”
He placed the cloth over the commander’s
eyes but Decker had no intention of letting him sleep. The stimulant was
quickly injected. The two men left the room, switching off the lights leaving
Lee in darkness once more. Loud laughter filled the room. Then the voices,
those dreadful, horrifying voices of men Lee feared, started all
over again. He didn't bother to try and see where they were. He didn't care, it didn't make any difference, all the people he
thought were loyal to him wanted him maimed or dead. As long as Decker was
around to protect him from being killed by his treacherous former friends, he
knew he would survive another day.
*****
Alex
and Decker made their way down the corridor and up a flight of stairs coming to
a stop at what appeared to be a dead end. A lever was pulled and the false wall
swung open, allowing access to the main floor. Decker closed the wall, which
appeared from this side to be the wreckage of
fallen stones from a decaying castle. The hanging tapestry concealing the panel
was pushed aside. They were met by Frederick, with a tray holding two glasses
of wine, just like a proper butler.
“I
have a light lunch set out in the living room, sir. I assumed you would want
some refreshment after all your hard work.”
The
men continued to walk as they talked. “Thank you. Has anyone been nosing
around?”
“No
sir, not here or in town. I was there earlier to pick up the roast for dinner
and there wasn't any gossip. A few tourists but none of them being
inquisitive.”
“Good,
any news from Karl?”
Frederick
pulled out a chair for his boss and refilled his wine glass.
“He’s
safely back in Poland. He was pleased to make it in time for his daughter’s
sixth birthday.”
“I
hope we sent her a present.”
“I
took care of it, a lovely doll I'm sure she'll love.”
Frederick
served the food and left after being assured nothing further was needed.
After
eating in silence for a few moments, Alex spoke up.
“Are
we still planning on two more sessions today, Wilhelm? Are there any changes
you want made?”
“This
afternoon we'll stay on script, just be alert to my signals. I might need you
to adjust the volume. During this evening, I'll need more variety of voices. I
need different crew members, spectators from the game, whatever you have. I'll
admit, even with what we're doing to him, Crane has seemed very susceptible to
the brainwashing. I think perhaps he's recovering from an illness or injury,
that's the most logical explanation.”
“No
problem. Tompkins gave us plenty to work with. Their speeches have already been
manipulated. I'll make sure to include them.”
“Tompkins,
Boris and you will be receiving a bonus for this job. You all did excellent
work.”
“I'm
surprised how well Crane is responding, after all you told me about him.”
“It's
all thanks to this new drug he's receiving. I greatly increased the dose today.
Hearing and seeing his shipmates wasn't enough, but enduring all that pain, it
reinforced what Crane thought he was experiencing because of his ‘trustworthy’
friends. One or the other would work by themselves over a long period. This
drug has an accumulative affect but will eventually wear off. In two weeks’
time, our visitor will be so conditioned he'll fear for his life and be
petrified being anywhere near his friends, plus everyone else if I have enough
time.” Decker chuckled, “That is, if
he's rational enough to form a coherent thought when I'm through with him. By
the way, how long is the recording set to play?”
“I’ve
already added a few different voices that you haven't heard today. There's
ninety minutes of tape, then repeats. Once that's completed, at non-regular
intervals, I have key words like ‘incompetence’, ‘kill us all’, ‘big mistake’,
‘a disgrace’, that will break the silence. I can easily queue it up to repeat
the ninety minutes if you require more time.”
Decker
smiled. “Alex, you are a very resourceful man.”
“All
in a good cause, sir.”
They'd
finished the food and sat back to enjoy their cigars. The butler returned to
collect the dishes.
“Frederick,
this evening I will want you to call and have Johan go to Bitburg tomorrow to
look around. See what the polizei are doing. Seaview is still several days away but there might be an ONI
operative sneaking around, but I doubt it. From my dealings with them, they
tend to leave agents out to dry.”
“Should
he pay a visit to Heinrich? I believe he came home yesterday.”
“It
depends what he finds out from his source at the police station. Have him check
in with you first. The less contact, the safer Heinrich is, he's the most
visible of the team.”
“Yes,
sir. I'm planning dinner for seven if that's acceptable with you.”
“Perfect,
Alex and Boris will be dining with me. We have some late-night fun in store for
us. Prepare something light for our friend downstairs. I must keep up the
pretense and caring about his well-being. He should be able to keep food down
if he’s served around five.”
*****
The
two men returned for the second go-around. At first Lee was unaware of their
presence. Decker replaced the empty IV, adjusting it to a slower rate. Looking
at a helpless man, he saw Lee was staring at the ceiling unresponsive to what
was occurring in the room. Decker slapped Lee's cheek attempting to bring him
out of the trance-like state. The drug and recordings had accomplished more
than he had hoped for. He lightly struck Lee's face a couple more times.
“Come
on, buddy boy. It's time for your next treatment. All your shipmates are
anxious to see you in action.” Lee started to respond to Decker's voice.
“That's it. The admirals don't like being made to wait. You don't want to get
them madder at you then they are already.”
Decker
decided to inject a small amount of stimulant to fully bring Lee around. Then,
at the signal, Alex started the video. Decker was pleased how many times
Tompkins was able to film face-on, making it appear the person was speaking
directly to someone in the room.
The
other admiral was speaking. “He wouldn’t have lasted in my command. He's
ineffective and indecisive. I'm amazed his men never threw him overboard, not
that I condone mutiny. He's a disgrace to the uniform.” Starke continued in a
slightly different tone. “You have to get rid of him.”
“Jiggs,
I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I don't know what I was thinking putting the
boy in that position. Only thing to do is to replace him, it was a mistake of
judgment on my part. Thankfully it hasn't hurt us.”
“Admiral,
whatever I've done wrong, I'm sorry,” Lee yelled out at the screen. “Please
sir, tell me how to fix this.”
Both
admirals shook their heads, “It's not too late to correct what has been done.
I've never experienced such anger towards one man. Well, we all know what has
to be done.”
Alex
had known what was going to be said and froze the video when Crane started to
speak. He couldn't believe how lucky it was Nelson's words seemed to answer the
man's pleas. Now it was Decker’s time to step in.
He had been standing to the side, pleased the illusion was working so
well.
“Yes,
Admiral Nelson, I'm ready to follow the orders you issued me earlier.”
The
tech cut off the audio, leaving the image of both officers nodding their heads
in supposed agreement to Decker's comment. Decker had already put on the
protective gloves and was now approaching Lee with the open vial of the FW
compound. It was poured down both legs this time. The skin rapidly absorbed the
oil-like substance and in Crane's weakened state, the pain escalated to
intolerable in no time. Lee didn't try to hold back his yelling. His entire
body convulsed from the pain as the burning spread deeper and deeper.
Alex
saw the signal and increased the volume as the video continued on. He wasn't
sure how much Crane was aware of considering the excruciating agony he was in,
but his subconscious was processing it. Decker had planned on a ten-minute
period of burning before neutralizing the compound. The technician saw him
ready another injection of the stimulant, Crane would soon be at the point of
blacking out.
All
through Lee's torment, the men of Seaview
were repeating what have been heard earlier, plus Alex had added some new
voices, all saying vile things. Finally, the ten terrible minutes were over and
Decker was dousing the burning skin with the cooling lotion. Even after the
pain stopped, Crane's body was still shaking from the memory of feeling as if
he was being burned alive.
“Easy
Lee, it's all over now. Just try and breathe normally.” Decker once more washed
Lee's tear stained face and when he was able to swallow, held water to his
lips.
During
Decker's tender care, the sounds on the screen continued.
“I'm
glad I saw that. Made my day seeing he got what he deserved.” John, the
corpsman, was smiling.
Decker
again stepped out of Lee's view so he would receive the full impact from the
video. A very pretty dark haired woman was speaking to an equally attractive
blonde.
“Don't
you just hate it when he comes strutting into the office. I have a hard time
keeping from laughing out loud.”
“Well,
we have to put up with it; he is an officer -- but no gentleman if you ask me.”
Insults
after insults were spoken, along with threats and wishes for bodily harm as
Alex did a fade out of the film.
“Time
for you to return to your cell. The guards need to help you; your legs are too
weak and sore. I'm sorry to say your arm will be burning from the prolonged
exposure of the IV drug. Trying to keep it still will help the pain.”
Tweedledee
and Tweedledum arrived and released the straps. Even without Decker's
suggestive words, Lee would have had trouble standing due to being restrained
for a long period. The sores on his soles continued to hamper his walking. The
guards dragged him backwards so he continued staring at the room where he had
been tortured. The pulling of his soles on the rough stone floor cause even
more damage to his feet.
The
prison door was already wide open. The two guards had no trouble maneuvering
Crane into the small room. In his dazed and
exhausted state, Lee did manage to notice a couple of changes. During his
absence, the straw mattress had been replaced by a cot complete with a
relatively clean blanket and pillow. Placed on the new bed was an unopened
large bottle of water. Following their orders, the two men use some care
setting Lee down on the cot. One of them even broke the seal when he saw their
prisoner was having difficulty opening the bottle. They left the man on the bed
drinking his water. They exited the room leaving the door open, waiting to see
what would happen.
Lee
took several large gulps of water then curled up in a fetal position, closing
his eyes. His mind was so scrambled he didn't know what to think. His supposed
friends and crew were causing him pain and ordering him kept prisoner, while
his past enemy was showing him kindness and comfort. Maybe he was safer staying
closer to his ‘enemy’ than letting his pals get their hands on him. Everything
around him was feeling surreal, as if he was in a fantasy story. Perhaps that's
why he named the guards as he did. His last conscious thought was of Alice
going down the rabbit hole.
Lee's
sleep filled with dreams, this time ones having pleasant endings. The first, Lee was in danger; someone
was chasing
him through the jungle, shooting at him.
He felt the sting of the bullet as it entered his right side. Trying to staunch the bleeding with pressure
from his hand he continued to zigzag through the dense foliage. Finally,
he stumbled into a clearing. A man was
running towards him, yelling. Lee was
afraid. The man reached him, putting an arm around his waist to help him stand,
telling him he was all right now, he was safe.
Lee looked at the face of the blond man, seeing only compassion in the
blue eyes; a sense of serenity
washed over him.
The
pain in his side brought Lee out of his sleep. Instinctively he touched his side and knew
there was no gunshot, just ribs badly bruised from the beatings. He reached for the water bottle and took a
couple of gulps, easing himself to a better position on the cot, taking the
pressure off his side. The burning
sensation from the
IV drug was still there, but it was negligible, and soon he drifted off to sleep.
*****
Sometime
later Lee found himself again strapped to the chair with the IV stuck into his
arm. The conditioning went the same way as the others except this time it
lasted longer and introduced several new faces and voices. Lee didn't try to
deny what was being said, too disheartened to fight the devastating words. When
the ordeal was over, the guards had to half pull, half carry him back to his
cell. He could still hear in his mind his own
screams from the inconceivable pain he had experienced.
Decker’s
words of caution ran through his head.
If you see one of
those men, run or hide. You have a real reason to be terrified of what they
plan to do. Don’t trust any words of friendship they offer. You heard and saw
what they truly feel. You’re smart to be scared of them. Your reaction will be to panic and beg them
not to hurt you, but they have no compassion for you. You have to get away, if
the doctor gets near you, you’re dead. In seconds the restraints will hold your
body down, and the hypo of poison will be inches
away.
Lee
propped himself up, leaning against the wall. When was this going to end? He
had withstood torture before but this was meaningless punishment. When being
brutalized for information you have some reason to resist, but this was
senseless. How do you fight against all those people hating you? Was there no
one left except Decker on his side? His head drooped as the exhaustion took
hold. Even the pain his body was experiencing could not prevent his eyes
closing.
He felt the
muddy ground give way under his feet as the edge of the cliff crumbled. Trying
frantically to grab something to stop the slide down the hill, he managed to
hook an exposed tree root with his hand just as he heard his name called.
“Lee, where are
you? Lee, answer me.”
“Down here, be
careful, the ledge isn't safe.”
“Damn it, hang on, bro! I told you we'd need the rope. I'm going to tie it to a tree, so just hang on.”
“’Bout the only
thing I can do, Chip.”
A few minutes
later Chip, rope braced behind his back, was leaning over the edge.
“Okay, here
comes.” He tossed down the loose end.
It was difficult
but Lee managed to crawl his way back up with Chip half pulling him. Finally
Chip hauled him over the rim and both collapsed, exhausted.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, I wasn't
about to explain to my mom why I was the only one of us to come back from the
camping trip. Next time, when I say stay together, would you please listen?”
“Stop acting
like my big brother. I can take care of myself.” Lee grinned a little
sheepishly as he continued, “With a helping hand from my friend, that is.”
Chip helped Lee
to his feet.
“Come on, let's
get you back to the cabin and see what new bruises you've added to your
collection.”
Lee
smiled in his slumber. He stirred just enough to slide down onto the bunk and
fell into a deeper sleep. Unfortunately,
the happy thoughts from the dream were soon pushed aside by a nightmare. The
admiral and others were holding him down. Jamie had
something sharp in his hand. When he fought to escape, his arms and legs were
tied. He couldn't understand what they were saying but the men kept a tight
hold on him as Jamie advanced closer and closer with the object.
He
awoke with a yell, as much of a yell as his sore throat could allow. His voice
was hoarse from the earlier screaming. He felt ashamed. He should have been
able to resist crying out but the burning would not let up until Decker applied
the antidote. Each time he thought it wouldn't get any worse and each time it
did, the inferno lasting longer and longer. How much more did those men want to
do to him? Lee heard them say over and over again they wanted him dead. The
question now was how soon would they be coming for him, and what method had
been chosen?
Chapter 9
While
waiting for the search warrant, Chip telephoned Admiral Johnson's office
requesting information on Decker. He also called Agent Gordon to bring him
up-to-date.
“Decker?
Yeah, I’ve heard of him. Where are you?”
“About
fifteen minutes from the hotel.”
“Good,
I'll meet you back there in twenty minutes. Watch what you say around the cops.
Benner is okay, but don't trust anyone else.”
The
warrant arrived along with news Schmidt had been captured and was now being
transported to headquarters. Benner gave orders no one was to question the
suspect until he got there and proceeded to search the house. The three
Americans were told they needed to wait outside since they had no legal
standing to assist in the search. Their statements would be taken later. Unable
to help and with the ONI agent on his way, Chip informed Detective Benner they
would return to the hotel.
Waiting
for Gordon, Morton called Angie. He finally had something positive to report. A
knock on the door came just as Chip finished. Opening the door Chip ushered the
agent in and quickly reported what had happened.
The
agent settled down in a side chair and got comfortable.
“The only reason I'm in the loop on this is because I am active in this
part of the world. Decker has had two run-ins with Crane, both going badly for
him. The gang back in DC will be interested to learn he's working in Germany.
He seems to do lots of business in Russia and Hong Kong. Last couple years,
there have been reports of him in contact with undesirables in Iraq and Syria.”
“Schmidt
claims Decker wanted Lee for personal reasons.”
Gordon
pondered that. “Just
Crane's bad luck to show up in Germany at the same time as Decker. I wonder if
he was after the professor's manuscript after all and Lee was just a bonus. I
can't think of anything current that would draw Decker to Germany. He tends to show up when
there are rumors in the intelligence world of a new discovery or something for
sale. I have never heard of him operating in this part of Europe. Could be he's
been careful to leave no trace.”
“Maybe
he's here on vacation?” Ski joked.
It would be
Lee's bad luck if that were true. He definitely is a trouble magnet. Okay, how
about some of that brotherly ESP you claim we have. It should work both ways.
Need a little help here, pal.
“Sir,
Mr. Morton, are you okay? You seemed to space out there for a minute.”
“Sorry,
Pat. I guess I'm disappointed we couldn't get something more out of Schmidt.”
Gordon
rose from his chair. “Morton, I think
the best bet is to head out to Neuerburg tomorrow. It's not far from here; in
fact, it's very close to the Luxembourg border. It's a very small town, only
1500 people but a heavy tourist population. Lots of hiking in the Eifel
Mountain range and there are plenty of castles to tour, which will make our
task a little harder. We should split up. Morton, you team up with Patterson
since he has a pretty good grasp on the language and Kowalski and I will take the other car. We can show Lee's
picture around, and I have a description of Decker.”
“I
suggest checking out of here ‘cause if we do find Lee, we'll need to get him to
the flying sub right away. I'm sure he'll need medical attention, either on Seaview or the base hospital if his
condition is critical.” Chip shifted gears slightly. “How long do you
think it will be before Admiral Johnson gets back to us?”
“I'm
afraid it might be several hours, this criminal doesn't work in the US too
much. I'm sure he keeps a small group nosing around. ONI is probably waiting
for responses from Interpol and several other government agencies for any intel
of his current activities.”
Kowalski
expressed his disbelief. “How can one man escape justice for so long?”
“He's
not greedy, stays away from extremist groups so he's low on the terrorist
threat list. Moreover, I hate to say it; there are governments willing to do
business with him. They tend to look the other way if it doesn't affect them.
In addition, the body count is low in regards to his crimes. However, that has
changed in the last five years or so. He has turned to torturing to obtain when
he wants if needed, at least what has been reported.”
“So
Lee is in the hands of a psycho who wants revenge. Great, just great!”
Hoping
to get the XO's mind off that gruesome thought, Ski and Pat suggested the two
of them get the medical supplies out of the flying sub while Mr. Morton waited
for the calls from Detective Benner and Admiral Johnson. After their return, it
would be time to give their statements to the
police.
“Make
sure to pick up some bottled water, who knows what condition we’ll find
ourselves in. We might be doing some hiking.”
*****
Two
hours later the police picked up and delivered the men to the station to answer
questions and give their statements. Gordon stayed behind to call Johnson. He
knew how close to the chest that man liked to play things. Gordon was
disappointed in the information received. The most recent was six months ago
and even that was speculation. He requested a check of anything of importance
occurring in Germany and surrounding area that might be of interest to Decker.
It would help to know why he was in Germany if not for the manuscript. Unless
someone close to Johnson was a mole, it had to be a coincidence that Decker was
in the country.
By
the time the men returned from speaking to the police, Gordon was no wiser.
Switzerland was hosting a conference pertaining to changes in international
banking laws and France had a multinational doctors’ conference. Nothing that
Decker would seemingly be interested in. Chip reported Detective Benner
wasn't having any luck with Schmidt. Safe from imaginary assassins, he wasn't
talking. There would be a lengthy legal battle between Britain and Hong Kong to
extradite him for complicity in the British agent’s murder, although Germany
had no issues with getting rid of him to either court. As for the kidnapping
charge, there was very little evidence to make a charge stick. Schmidt’s lawyer
was already claiming he was in fear of his own life, being held by three gunmen
in his own house.
*****
Early
the next morning the four men traveled to Neuerburg, a small village
approximately 20 km northeast of Bitburg. As agreed, they split up in two cars. Once in
the tiny village they showed Lee's picture around the medical clinic and a few
other places where Lee might have sought help if he was injured. They had no
luck, even in the off-season one stranger wouldn't stand out unless he looked pretty
ragged.
“We
knew this wasn't going to be easy. I think we should look for places he could
be held, maybe a vacant house or barn.” Gordon pointed skywards. “The best plan
would be to concentrate most of our efforts on those buildings which are situated
up in the hills.”
“Mr.
Morton, we could check to see if any local properties are for rent. It's
possible Decker could've taken a place for a month
or two before he grabbed the skipper.”
“We'll
look into that, Pat, because I can't see him in one of the hotel rooms.”
They
stopped and had coffee at a small but busy restaurant. When she returned, Chip
asked the waitress if she knew of any houses for lease.
“There
are a few rental houses, but the same families have lived there for several
years. Your best bets are the hotels.
One is new and has weekly rates if you plan to stay that long. Or if you
wish to hike there are some sites where you can set up your tent and camp for
as long as you wish.”
“Danke,
we have a friend who said he was looking to rent. I guess he found he was out
of luck. Thank you for your help.”
The
server walked away after she refilled their cups.
“Well,
there goes that idea, sir. Guess we put on our hiking boots and head for the
hills.”
“Don't
give up so fast, Ski. I saw a butcher shop down the street. He would notice a
new customer. We have a decent description of Decker from the skipper’s
encounters with him. Let's see if he recognizes him.”
Finishing
their drinks, all four walked the short distance up the street taking in the
picture postcard atmosphere of the village. It was hard to imagine such a
picturesque place harboring a person like Decker.
The
butcher completed his transaction with his customer and turned to Chip's group.
Morton explained there had been a mix-up in their plans and they were
trying to find a friend. He was meeting up with someone but Chip didn’t know
the name. The merchant carefully considered the description.
“It
could be Baron Drechsler's nephew who comes almost every year for a month or
two. However, he wears a patch over his left eye and has a long scar on that
side of his face, from an accident right after he graduated from
University. Of course, many travelers
don't come in here. We get pretty good cell phone reception in the valley, but
if he took off to the mountains,
well, maybe that’s why you haven't heard from him. Have you tried the hotels?”
“He
does love to hike so that might be the answer. Thank you for your time and
suggestions.” Chip politely finished his conversation and left the store. It
probably would be a waste of time to check the hotels. It had to be very difficult to
hide a person kept against their will in
a single room. However, even if there was only a small chance Chip knew they
couldn't dismiss it. Splitting up, they would show Lee's picture and describe
Decker on the off chance one of them had stayed there.
After
two nonproductive hours of questioning at the hotels, the men regrouped at the
same restaurant as before. Highlighting places on the maps to check, they
enjoyed an excellent meal.
“Sounds
like you got the same answers as we did, sir. Tourists who are staying for a
couple days or longer, but no one resembling the skipper or Decker.”
“It
was a long shot, Patterson. Detective Benner is still sweating Schmidt, maybe
he'll give up something more to help us. In the meantime, looks like we're
going on maneuvers.” He opened up the
small guidebook he had picked up at the last hotel. We’ll rule out the six
castles that are open for tours.”
There
were ruins that could hide a dead body. Chip hated to admit they would need to
examine those places plus three partially torn down castles that could house
the criminal and his prisoner. The two privately owned castles and some houses
scattered around the mountains would be harder to investigate. One couldn't go
pounding on the door demanding to search the house without any proof of
wrongdoing. They would show these people the pictures and hope they recognized
one of them.
“Ski,
you and I have the GPS handheld monitors. Keep scanning for the skipper's
signal. He might be able to turn his cell phone on. We all know from experience
how resourceful he can be. We shouldn't have trouble with our phones thanks to
Admiral Nelson's tinkering with them.”
Chip and Pat took the west trail, Gordon and
Ski headed east. They would check in on the hour and meet at a designated place
at 1800 hours to set up their tents, not wanting
to be wandering in the dark forest.
Chapter 10
Lee
walked with difficulty out of his cell due to the infected cuts on the bottom
of his feet, not to mention the other sores and bruises on his body. Once
again, secured to the chair, Lee's ribs were causing him considerable
discomfort from struggling so hard during yesterday's sessions.
Tweddledum
started the IV and then hit the play button for the video, a warm-up for
Decker.
Lee
closed his eyes; he didn't want to see the faces of the men who discarded him.
It was bad enough hearing the disgusting words. The film was almost over when
Decker made his appearance, delayed by a call from Johan with the news of
Schmidt's arrest yesterday. Things were happening quicker than anticipated. He
sent Frederick into the valley to snoop around.
“Let's
get down to business. I spoke with Admiral Nelson last night and he is not
pleased with your progress. I'm afraid you're in for a rough day. If I was you,
I would be petrified going back to Seaview.
Who knows what horrendous plans they have for you? But enough of that, shall we
get started?” Decker signaled Alex to start a new DVD, one Boris had masterly
manipulated last night. If this one didn't break Crane, nothing would.
Thanks
to the Russian’s talent for mimicry, only a small percentage of the voices on
the tape were real. If Crane was at the top of
his game, he might have been able to spot the impressions, but in his confused
and weakened state of mind, he would certainly accept as fact all that he
heard.
First
came a repeat of some of what was played before, then the new assault began.
With backs positioned to the camera or faces turned, Crane wouldn't notice the
words out of sync with the lips.
“You
know there are drugs I have that could kill him and would be cleaned from the
system by the time we reach port. As his physician, I could sign a death
certificate without question. It's something to think about if he ever dares
show up on the boat again.”
“I
wouldn't worry about that, Will. I think he's being shown what we think of him.
Even he's not stupid enough to believe we want him back.”
“There
are always accidents, Admiral. It would be a real shame if a bracket failed and
a torpedo crushed him.”
‘Nelson’
chuckled. “That's not a bad idea,
Francis. But it would be a black mark against Seaview’s reputation.”
“What
about a burial at sea, Admiral? No body to autopsy or way to tell if he really
was dead before entering the water,” ‘Sharkey’ gleefully suggested.
Lee
trembled at that thought. The voices and faces changed but the tone was the
same. At all cost Lee knew he had to
avoid letting those men get hold of him.
Unseen
by Crane, Frederick entered the room and motioned Decker over to him. In the
corridor, the servant tersely explained his presence.
“Herr
Decker, I just returned from the village.”
He then repeated what the waitress and butcher had told him about the
Americans. They had been shown pictures of Crane plus a description of Decker
minus the disguise of the scar and eye patch.
“I
returned right away after selecting some meat for dinner since I didn't want to
arouse the butcher’s suspicion. It appears I only missed the men by ten or
fifteen minutes.”
“That
idiot Schmidt must've betrayed us once
arrested,” Decker snarled. “Tell the guards to come here, and then load up your car with our belongings. I had
hoped for several more days to ensure a complete breakdown but we can't take the
chance of discovery.”
Frederick
hurried away to obey his orders. Decker returned to his prisoner but first
stopped by the drug-laden table and filled a syringe. He injected the sedative
and signaled Alex to lower the volume.
“Looks
like our time here is finished. I just got word Nelson and the crew wants you
back on Seaview. Guess they have
plans to finish this by themselves. I wonder how they'll do it? Burial
at sea would solve all the problems, but maybe the admiral and doctor want to
see you suffer, dying slowly from poisoning. I hope for your sake it's quick,
but I doubt it.”
The
drug was taking effect, but not before Crane tried to reach out toward Decker.
Lee was only able to make a weak plea for help escaping from those sailors with
murder on their mind before passing out.
The
men arrived and they carried Crane's slack body out of the castle into the SUV,
carefully hiding his body under blankets. Boris had arrived to help Alex and
together they rushed to dismantle electronics and destroy the evidence of
recent activity in the room. The wall with the whips would be left untouched.
If the entrance were ever found they could be explained as a collection best
forgotten.
Frederick
had packed most of his employer's possessions immediately after the kidnapping,
in case the experiment needed to be concluded at a moment’s notice. The plan had called
for another week of treatments but Decker had not survived this long without
planning for the unexpected. The butler made several trips loading the luggage
into his car while the guards returned to help cover their tracks. Decker made
a call to his uncle telling him to return and cautioned there might be visitors
asking questions. Completing a quick call to
arrange his flight and one more to take care of unfinished business Decker got
into his car and left the castle. He knew returning would be impractical for a
couple of years. He conceded that his thirst for
revenge had compromised the enterprise, allowing the enemy to track him to
Germany. To be safe he would need to stay away.
The
two guards took an unmarked back trail known only to a few. Decker drove to the
location by way of a better-maintained but still seldom traveled path with
Frederick soon to follow on the road most tourists used. The latter two linked
with the unmarked path, but only if you knew where to look. Maybe they were a little overcautious but
Decker had no plans to spend his life behind
bars. All would be scanning the area for any sign of the Americans. Decker
surmised they should have several hours start, if
he knew the military mind. A search of the motels would be the first plan of
action followed by checking houses and castles situated away from the village.
The
henchman arrived first and carried the unconscious man to the cellar of the
well-hidden house, dumping his body on the cot.
They returned outside to wait for the others. Decker arrived in about fifteen
minutes and Frederick soon after. The house was small with heavily
boarded windows and a securely locked front door that would deter anyone who
happened across it. When all arrived they entered the building with Decker
carrying his bag of tricks. In the basement, Frederick placed one of the
miniature playing devices in the corner, and attached one to the bottom of the
metal frame of the cot. The third was attached to the outside frame of the cell
door. The controlling device that activated all three speakers had been placed
in the closet of the upstairs room. With a few simple commands from the laptop,
it would sound as if the whole crew were surrounding the house.
Decker
removed a stimulant-filled syringe injecting the hypo into Crane. It wasn't
long before Lee began to stir. The butler, impatient to get away, shook Crane
and slapped his face to bring him around. A disoriented Crane, awakening with
thoughts of being turned over to his bloodthirsty tormentors and recorded
threats still ringing in his ears, saw only a large man standing over him ready
to strike him again. He staggered to his feet and threw an ineffectual punch at
Frederick. They all laughed as the prisoner fell to his knees as the butler
easily deflected the blow. The attempt however inflamed the German’s temper.
“How
dare you try and assault me, you worthless piece of scum! I see I'll have to
teach you your place.”
Frederick
instructed the thugs to hold Crane's arm to the floor and took great pleasure
stomping on the hand with his boot. The men repeated the same action to Lee's
other arm and Frederick's foot connected with the left hand, this time hitting
more of the wrist.
Lee’s
choked cries of pain brought a smile to Decker's face.
“You shouldn't have done that, Frederick. But I'm pleased that you did.” His plan was
almost complete. The guards yanked the dispirited Crane to his feet. Decker filled his largest syringe with
the mind-controlling drug and injected Lee.
“I
admit I'll miss our time together, my dear Commander. Your crewmates will soon
be here to return you to Seaview. It
seems they want one last go at you themselves. Can't you hear them coming up
the road now? It's time for us to leave you to your fate. May your God have
mercy on you, I'm sure your ‘friends’ won’t.”
“You
can’t leave me, Decker,” Lee croaked.
“My hands... I won’t be able to fight them. You know what they plan to
do to me, you can’t leave me behind!”
Lee
fell on his knees as he continued to plead with the departing men, hysterical
with fear. Decker looked back at him, a satisfying smile on his face. The
conditioning had worked just as he planned. The great Lee Crane was now nothing
more than a terrified sniveling five-year-old frightened by the monster under
his bed.
Frederick,
standing outside the door with the two guards, opened the laptop and issued the
first command. Sounds of car doors slamming and angry voices were heard coming
from the speaker mounted on the doorframe. Lee scrambled to hide by the end of
the cot, pulling his knees up to his chest, screaming at Decker to save him.
Kowalski's
loud and boisterous voice was the first to be heard. “Come on man, this is the
place. Break down the doors if we have to, but get Crane! I want to put a rope around his neck and
lynch him from the tree out here. Why bother dragging that sorry piece of crap
back to the boat.”
As
Decker closed the cell door, the screaming pleas grew louder. The pitiful cries
echoed off the stairwell as the four men climbed their way out of the cellar
and to the front door. The bar was lowered and locked in place. Decker was
unconcerned knowing if the rescuers could not pick the lock, a bullet or two
would take care of it.
Tweddledee
drove off in the SUV heading for Berlin. Tweedledum rode away towards
Düsseldorf in Decker’s car. Frederick waited behind the wheel of his for
Decker. They would fly out of Munich airport on a hired jet, first making sure
to wipe all fingerprints from the vehicle and then abandoning it in the airport
parking lot.
Frederick
issued another laptop command, and the sounds of multiple footsteps played
through the speaker. Even the sturdy door could not completely block out the
screams of terror. Decker took out Crane's cell from his pocket and walked away
from the waiting vehicle, picking out a spot to drop the now active phone, one
that was broadcasting its location. A
group of bushes some distance from the cabin was the perfect spot. Knowing the
genius of Nelson and the trickery of ONI, Decker was not surprised to find a
special device embedded in the phone. He anticipated the battery to last
several days, enough time for the search party
to zero in on the signal. If they were late, Crane would probably die from
starvation or dehydration. Not his original plan, but his enemy would not be
interfering with his operations anymore.
Returning
to the sedan, he leaned back against the seat, a satisfying smile on his face.
Decker wished he could stay and watch the discovery of Crane, but he had put
his organization into too much danger already and for no monetary gain. He
would read the manuscript again when they arrived in India but it did not
appear to be anything except for what he’d been told. He would have wasted
precious time trying to obtain classified info about Seaview from Crane. He almost weakened last night but with the news
this morning of Schmidt's capture and the Americans’ arrival in Neuerburg,
Decker congratulated himself on sticking to the original plan.
The
sadist took great pleasure typing in one final order. Now all three speakers
would be playing most of the threats Lee had heard during his conditioning. The
speakers were programmed so that only one would
be playing at a time, literally surrounding Crane with the voices of his
imaginary attackers. Sweet revenge was much better than money.
*****
Kowalski
and Gordon finished speaking with the owner of the castle. At first, she was
upset with the strangers, thinking them tourists wanting to tour her home. The
scowling on her face turned to a look of concern when the Americans explained
their plight. She had not seen anyone unusual in the area, if you excluded the
pushy foreigners who wanted a look inside. They were invited in while she hunted
up an old handmade map her father had drawn of the area. She copied it on her
printer, returning to the guests.
“My
father knew every inch of the land around here for 20 miles. As a boy, he
hunted in the forest and as he grew older mapped out the area. Some small
houses had been in existence for hundreds of years. They are not shown on the
tourist maps. Local hunters in need of shelter have used them. Many have been
boarded up but I heard a few were still in use last year during an unexpected
blizzard. They are not in the best shape but if one was lost in the forest or
injured, it would provide shelter from the elements. It has been several years
since my father’s death, I'm not sure if all are still standing.”
Ski
and Art thanked her and hurried back to the car to study the map.
“There
are two in our search area and one close to Chip and Pat. It's four o'clock
now. I say let's investigate this lead and then meet up with Morton. Are you
still scanning for Crane's tracking signal?”
“Yes
sir, I'm going to check in with the other team.”
Meanwhile
Chip and Pat were not having any luck either. The two houses they checked
revealed no clues. They were pulling away from the second one, disappointed no
one was home, when Kowalski called and informed them of the hand-drawn map.
“Great,
that’s a help. We’ve got one more close
by to check on first. We’ll go there
next, then we’ll start setting up camp. Good luck.”
“Yes,
sir. We might need to do a little hiking but there is a dirt path barely
suitable for the car that will take us up closer.”
Chip,
not wanting to raise Patterson's hopes, kept his thoughts to himself. These
isolated shelters would be a perfect place to keep Lee prisoner and interrogate
him. Morton pressed a little harder on the gas, anxious to reach the last house
on their list. He glanced at the monitor on Pat’s lap, hoping to see the light
starts flashing.
They
had just returned to the car after another disappointing conversation with the
homeowner when Chip’s cell rang and Ski's excited voice came through loud and
clear.
“Sir,
I picked up the skipper's signal. It's weak, but it's there. We're slowing down
the car so I can try and get a better sense of its direction.”
“We're
on our way, Kowalski. Where exactly are you?”
Directions
were given and Patterson found it on their map. He pulled his seatbelt tighter
as the XO flew down the road.
“You
keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Morton, and I'll keep mine on the tracking
device.”
Luckily,
they had been working their way towards Chip and Pat when the signal started. At
first Ski was confused as to why he didn't pick it up the first time but
realized they were a couple miles higher up in the mountains, now in range of
the homing device.
He
had given the XO directions, including how to locate the secondary road on the map.
The gravel path was not mentioned on Mr. Morton's copy, and the turn off was
difficult to see without the handmade map., Ski solved that problem by setting
up some reflective markers, from the cars emergency kit, to show the way. The
beeping was growing louder then suddenly he lost the signal. He ordered Gordon
to stop and got out to scan the area. Picking up the sound again, he walked
slowly with the car cautiously backing up following him. He hand signaled to
stop, finding the strongest spot.
“I'll
go ahead on foot and see if I can find the source. I think the trees and rocks
are interfering. You should wait here in case Mr. Morton has trouble finding
the path. I'll call your cell if I find
anything. When the others get here, continue slowly up the path in the cars.
With Pat’s monitor we should be able to triangulate the signal.”
Ski
grabbed the first aid backpack and took off.
Soon
the signal made it necessary to leave the dirt path and continue the hike through the bushes and trees. From the strength
of the pinging, Ski knew he had to be on top of the cell phone. The whole time
he had been climbing upwards and in between clumps of trees, he spotted the
same earthen path his car had been traveling. Stopping to catch his breath, Ski
called Gordon, repeating the instructions to continue driving up the road when
the others arrived. He apprised his supervisor of the situation.
“Mr. Morton, I got to be real close. Bring
both cars and turn your headlights on so I can track you. The path we are on is
above me. Follow the map, you’ll come across the place. You head for it; I'm
sticking to the trees in case the commander didn't make it that far.”
Kowalski pushed on, saying a silent prayer
they were not too late for the skipper. He hoped Decker or someone hadn’t
tossed the cell phone to mislead them. The tracking device was going crazy,
leading him into a big thicket of bushes. Pushing aside branches and leaves,
Ski found Commander Crane's cell phone. Almost at the same time, he heard the
vehicles slightly above him. Digging out his own phone, Ski called the XO.
“Sir, I found the Commander’s cell but no
sign of him. Do you have the shelter in sight?”
“There is something just ahead of us.”
“I'll head your way, you just passed me by
the sounds of it.”
“I'll have Gordon wait for you while we go
ahead and scout out the area. It could still be a trap. I don't want to burst
in without a little recon. You two can be our
backup.”
In no time, Chip and Pat arrived at the
shabby looking dwelling, each drawing their weapons to check out the area
around it, looking for any signs of booby-traps or recent habitation. Chip had
noticed several different tire tracks and numerous footprints going to and from
the front door but no other evidence from the side or back of the building. By
the time the other car arrived, they were ready to force their way in. Gordon
stopped them, first carefully checking out the lock and then, with practiced
ease, opened it.
Silence met them. Turning on their strong
flashlights, they split up. Gordon and Kowalski checked out the first floor,
while Morton and Patterson took the cellar. In minutes, Pat was dashing up the
steps yelling that they had found the skipper,
and then running to the car for the shock blankets.
Chapter 11
Chip
barely waited for FS 1 to lift off before unbuckling his harness and crouching
next to Lee, who laid
motionless on the pull down bunk. Was it
only two hours ago they had found him curled in a fetal position, eyes staring
at nothing, cold and still? Had drugs or
worse, an attempt at brainwashing gone too far, caused the condition? Looking at Lee’s body, covered in dirt and
grime, the bruises evident around the chest and the hands, the bile rose in
Chip’s throat. He would not
speculate. All he wanted now was to get
Lee the help he needed.
Chip's hand trembled as he checked again for a pulse, afraid that
this time, there would be nothing. When
he felt the faint but steady beats under his fingertips, he wanted to shout
with joy. Lee was alive! A rapid glance over the near naked body
showed no blood, no apparent major injury except for the bruised and swollen
hands. Chip took solace watching Lee's chest move up and down. He was alive, that was all that mattered. Once aboard Seaview, Jamie would discover what was wrong and fix it, just like
always.
Chip
started as a hand was placed on his shoulder; he had almost forgotten that
anyone else was there.
“Sir,
if you could move away for a minute? I
need to check out the skipper.”
It
wasn't the first time the XO blessed the genius of Jamison's idea of training
Kowalski to perform some simple medical procedures. He was no substitute for a corpsman,
but two months into Lee's command, the doctor had realized the wisdom of having
someone around to keep an eye on the captain
during his excursions away from Seaview. Jamie had seen how fast Ski had become Lee's
go-to man and the rest, as they say, was history.
“Mr.
Morton, I'm not seeing any signs of head injuries, eyes are equal and
responsive. I'm sure both hands have
broken bones, looks like some bruised if not cracked ribs, but he's breathing
okay. His catatonic state could be
drug-induced, or....” Ski's voice drifted off, afraid to think about what the
skipper had gone through.
Chip
took a towel from the locker and dampened it with the bottle water. He continued wiping Lee's face, pressing it
to the forehead and after rewetting it, to the back of the neck. This was a repeat of the same process he’d
done with gauze pads on the frantic trip back to Spangdahlem Air Force
Base. Sitting in the backseat with Lee's
head on his lap, Chip had hoped the water soaked pads Ski kept passing him from
the front seat would help bring Lee around.
He had talked nonstop the entire time,
letting his friend know he was safe, trying to reach any part of Lee's shutdown
brain.
Gordon,
staying behind to look for clues, had called ahead to the airbase. Barely stopping at the gate, a Jeep arrived
to escort them to the hangar where the flying sub was waiting. There was a brief argument with the base
physician over Lee's not going directly to the hospital. Morton emphatically pointed out that
Commander Crane hated hospitals and it would take the combined skills of Dr.
Jamieson, his corpsmen, and a four-star admiral to keep Lee in Sick Bay once he
came to. He also wisely noted that Dr. Jamieson knew the commander’s medical
history inside and out, having kept him from dying on a few occasions. The skipper would need his friends and
shipmates around him while he recovered from the ordeal that he had endured,
not a bunch of well-meaning strangers. While Seaview's XO argued with the physician, Ski, Pat and the Jeep’s driver loaded
Lee's motionless body aboard the vessel, presenting the good doctor with a fait
accompli.
He
put down the damp cloth, knowing he had to contact the boat. He was not the only one crazed with worry.
“FS1
to Seaview, come in please. FS1 to Seaview.”
“Seaview to FS 1, we are receiving you.”
“Sparks,
get me the admiral.”
“I'm
right here, Mr. Morton, report.”
“We're
coming home, sir. We have the
captain. We should be docking in three
hours.” Chip could hear the cheers over
the speakers. It did not take long to
spread good news.
“Chip,
what's Lee's condition?”
“Some
broken bones, bruises, and he's unconscious, comatose. Tell Jamie pulse faint but steady, breathing
slow but without difficulty.”
With
his standard hearty voice, Nelson responded.
“Will do. Well done, men, well
done.” In a softer tone he added,
“Thanks for bring him home, Chip.”
“My
pleasure, sir. I never intended to do
anything else. FS1 out.”
Returning
to his place by Lee, Chip sat on the bunk making sure the wrapped damaged hands
were protected from any sudden movements of the aircraft. Ski had cleaned and bandaged the
skipper's rubbed raw wrists and ankles.
There were also infected cuts on the soles of Lee's feet that required
medical attention. Kowalski was afraid
to inject any antibiotic, worried about what drugs were already causing havoc
with Crane's system. He again checked
Lee's carotid pulse, needing the reassurance.
Was it possible it had a stronger beat?
“Don't
you worry about anything Lee, just rest.
Once Jamie gets his hands on you, everything will be fine. It won't be long before we dock. I'm right here; I won't leave your side.”
He
poured water onto a pad and pressed it to Lee's cracked lips, his anger rising as he
saw again the ugly bruise on the cheek and cut
above Lee’s eye. He placed a hand on
Lee's arm and squeezed. There wasn't
anything Chip could do but wait and pray Jamie could reach into Lee's mind and
release whatever hell he was in.
Time
passed, slowly and inexorably. Finally,
Patterson made contact with Seaview
and said they were minutes from arrival.
The large splash into the water came soon after, and then the clanking
and thumping that meant they had docked with the giant submarine.
“We’re
home, Lee. The doc will fix you right
up. From what I heard, Nelson's been
giving Johnson hell for sending you off on this mission.” The final coupling was made, and then Ski was powering down the craft. “Just a little longer, Lee and it's a trip to
Sick Bay for you. Looks like you're
going to be the first to check out the new accommodations.”
Jamie
practically jumped down the hatch. He
hurried over to Lee and overheard the last remark.
“Who
else but Captain Crane to christen the new surgery recovery room. I'm thinking of calling it the Captain’s
Nest. Are
you in much pain, Skipper?” He had not
expected a response and did not get one. The doctor placed the stethoscope to Lee’s chest and
poked around a little before allowing his patient to be removed. The brief exam agreed with Kowalski's initial
report.
“Captain,
can you hear me? Blink once if you
understand me.” No response.
With
great care, the corpsmen transported their captain to Sick Bay. The admiral’s request for a preliminary
report was brushed off, Jamie tossing the words “I’ve got to wait for the test
results” before following the men down the corridor.
John
and Frank had already placed the skipper on the exam table when Jamison arrived. John got the portable x-ray machine in place while Frank cleaned the skipper's arm, readying it
for the anticipated blood draw. The
needle and vial was standing by, along with the IV stand and catheter, sadly
standard equipment for when Captain Crane returned from a mission.
Chip’s
eyes followed the action of John and Frank as they gently positioned Crane for
the x-ray. They had some difficulty because of Lee’s rigid body.
Jamie
wasted no time giving orders. “X-rays of
head, ribs and both hands for now. Let’s put him in a shower and wash off all
this filth.” He removed the needle and
turned away to start testing not only for drugs but signs of infection. It was then he noticed the XO hanging around
in the background.
“Take
a shower, get some food and rest. I'll
call as soon as I know anything or if he starts to come around. Right now, it is wait and see. The one good thing in his unresponsive state,
he shouldn’t feel the pain while I set his hands or scrub out the infected
sores. I can't chance pain meds until I
know what, if any, drugs he was given.”
Chip didn’t move. Sighing, the
doctor stepped in front of the blonde officer.
“You’re in the way here, Commander. I repeat: shower, eat, and sleep. Now. I
don't want to see you for at least four
hours.” Seeing Chip’s look, Jamie added softly, “I’ll call you if there’s
any change before that, I promise.”
“I
want to stay with him, Jamie.”
“And I want you to leave.
Be reasonable, Chip. There's
nothing you can do right now. Once he’s stable and I’ve got a handle on
what’s wrong, you can start up your bedside
vigil. Now, go!”
There
was no getting around the doctor’s command.
Chip placed his hand on Lee's shoulder
and squeezed. “I'll be back soon,
Lee. Doc’s kicking me out so he can fix
you up.”
Finished
with the x-rays, John and Frank changed into bathing trunks and lifted the
skipper into the emergency shower stall. John removed
the bandages on the feet while Frank took care of the hands and wrists, placing
each on the thighs for support. A warm
cascade of soothing water fell on the trio as Frank set to work to clean off
the sweat and grime.
As
Frank removed the dirt, the full extent of the damage became visible. Both men were aware of the cuts on the
captain's feet but hoped not to see signs on the rest of his body. John softly cursed when he saw several black
and blue marks on the chest, Frank joining in when
the soft scrubbing revealed bruising on Lee’s groin, knowing it was from
well-placed kicks.
They vigorously expressed a desire to find the men who had done
this and
pound them into the ground. After taking
a calming breath Frank squatted down to attend to the
ankles and feet. He used a stronger
antibiotic soap along with the hand held shower sprayer to remove the embedded grit. The doctor would still need to clean the
wounds, but the power spray helped considerably. They were done in a few
minutes. Wrapped in a couple of towels, the skipper was tenderly carried over
and placed on the exam table.
Had
he been aware of where he was, Lee would have been impressed. The surgery recovery room looked more like a
regular hospital room but with more equipment and a small metal cart filled
with emergency medications. The upper
half of the two outer walls had panels of the
same materials as Seaview's windows,
for safety and easy viewing. Curtains
were available for patient privacy. Two well-hidden cameras could be activated
and viewed on a monitor. After numerous
complaints of the difficulty of dealing with patients who were connected to IVs
and other equipment, not to mention having to lean over or squat down to care
for the patients, the CMO finally got his wish of two regulation hospital
beds. These beds also made it easier on
the injured or sick man trying to sit up or eat. An added benefit was the addition of an
isolation ward when needed. This would
ensure the least amount of contact with the infected person and still be
vigilant to his needs.
With
all the craziness encountered in the past, having a safe place for affected crewmembers
was an excellent idea. Jamie also
mentioned that with the captain being Sick Bay's number one star visitor, it
would help to place him in a private room and perhaps keep him from escaping.
An
IV was started with a wide range of antibiotics and though Lee did not appear
to be badly dehydrated, a saline solution bag along with needed nutrients was
hung. Ointment was applied to both
wrists and bandaged before the hands were placed in air casts. The x-ray film
revealed a clean break of the left wrist and while both hands suffered from
broken bones only the right hand had any broken fingers. Luckily, the damage appeared to be less than
a day old and should cause no permanent impairment. The feet were debrided
and wrapped along with the ankles. Jamie
could see whatever Lee had gone through, he had fought strenuously. All four limbs were bruised and the skin
rubbed raw from repeatedly pulling against the restraints. He was sickened knowing Lee had been forced
to walk on the painful open sores, that action causing a worse infection. A liberal amount of ointment would help
relieve the pain and aid the healing process.
The final test was the check on the ribs; several were bruised, three
were cracked. Jamie completed the last
task, inserting the catheter. There was
no response from the man on the gurney, who stared with unseeing eyes toward
the ceiling.
“We'll
move him to the recovery room as soon as I call the admiral. Go ahead and put a hospital gown on him for
now. When he's awake and complaining,
we’ll switch to pajamas but for now it's easier to deal with all the injuries.”
Jamie’s
optimism caught Frank up as well. “I'll put an extra blanket on the bed
and make up the second one for Mr. Morton.
I'm assuming it's going to be SOP again.”
Jamie
laughed for the first time in a week. “I
was smart to insist on having two regular hospital beds in the recovery
room. With the captain and exec being my
most frequent visitors, at least I can make sure one or
the other gets some sleep.”
While
the doctor left and reported to Nelson, the corpsmen swiftly dressed the
patient and covered him with a blanket.
After transferring Lee to the hospital bed, and locking the side rails,
he was left alone. Frank and John turned
away to clean up the examining room while Jamie waited for Nelson’s
arrival.
Engrossed
in their tasks, none of the three men saw Lee's eyelids flicker.
Warmth,
something soothing, feels good, tender hands.
Something soft and warm, less
pain, must be safe, Decker came back.
No, it wasn’t him. Blue-eyed man
from dream. Telling me I'm safe. He will protect me. Arms surrounding me, best friend, no, no more
friends! That's not right. Chip is a friend, my brother, he didn't turn
against me. Held me so carefully not to hurt. Said won't leave me. Safe with Chip. We will fight off the enemies. But now tired, so tired, nice and warm, soft
oh so soft.
The
tumult of thoughts faded away. Lee’s
eyes lost their empty stare and closed in sleep, his tense posture finally
relaxing.
Chapter 12
Jamie
was surprised it took Harry half an hour to arrive. By the look on the admiral’s face, the doctor
surmised Nelson had received a call from ONI.
He could still detect a small amount of steam coming from the man’s
ears.
“Admiral
Johnson?”
“That
man’s a jackass. Wants to know how soon
Lee can be debriefed. Said they need to
know what secrets he revealed or if Decker gave any idea where he was going. I told him Lee was comatose. He suggested pumping him full of
drugs to ‘snap him out of it.’ I take it
back, to call that man a jackass is an insult to all jackasses.”
“You’ve
got to calm down or I’ll have two patients.
Now, if you are finished with your rant, I’ll update you on the
captain’s condition.” Jamie knew that
would settle the OOM down.
“How
is he?”
“I
was able to identify the strand of infection and came up with the most
effective antibiotic. Best of all I was
able to isolate some of the chemicals in the drugs he was given. I was correct in believing the captain was
subjected to some type of brainwashing or mind control based on these
chemicals. I can now safely give him a
mild pain medication. You might as well
come with me, Admiral, you’ll want to check on him. Chip said he kept talking to Lee during the
flight back, trying to break through to him.
You might as well give it a try, it can’t hurt.”
Picking
up the two filled syringes, the doctor and Nelson entered the room where Frank
was finishing taking vital signs. Jamie
instantly noticed the change in Lee.
“He’s
asleep.”
“Of
course he is. He’s been that way for
hours.”
“No,
admiral. He’s asleep -- not
comatose. His eyes are closed, his body
is relaxed. That’s a very good
sign. We’ll let him wake up on his own
now.”
As
if he knew they were talking about him, Lee stirred and turned slightly to his
side, his eyes half open. The doctor
walked over to the IV but as he prepared to administer the antibiotic, an air-cast hand knocked both syringes out of Jamie’s
hands. Startled, Jamison turned towards
his patient, stepping closer, intending to quiet Lee. What he saw was a pair of terrified amber
eyes darting between Nelson and the doctor.
“Easy
skipper, you’re safely aboard Seaview. There’s nothing to worry about now that we’ve
got you back.”
If
Jamie thought his words would calm the captain he was greatly mistaken. Instead it sent Crane into a frenzy. Lee lashed out at the doctor, pushing him
away, and then tried to pull out the IV.
Failing that, he turned to the other two shocked men. With his hands pretty much useless, he tried
to push himself out of reach by his elbows, crawling higher towards the head of
the bed, his bandaged feet unable to help very much. Lee twisted his head around attempting to
keep his ‘enemies’ in sight as Nelson stood at the foot of the bed with Frank
and Will on each side of it.
“Come
on, Skipper, calm down,” Frank pleaded.
“You’re among friends.”
“Lee,
it’s Nelson. Don’t you recognize me?
You’re safe. Decker can’t get to you
now.”
All
Lee heard and saw were men surrounding him who had declared their intention of
killing him. Frantically he looked
around for anything he could use to help defend himself. Every time someone reached out, he stuck out
at them, causing obvious pain to his already damaged hands.
Chip, where are
you? Help me. Oh God, what did they do
to Chip?
The
doctor finally was able to grab both arms and leaned across Lee’s chest. “I’ll hold the arms while you get the straps
on the waist and legs! Then we can get
the chest secured. Don’t want to do it,
but we got to stop the captain from hurting himself.”
The
corpsman finished buckling the straps that normally were used to keep a patient
safe in turbulent seas. The admiral was
handing over his end of the waist restraint when Chip appeared.
“What
the hell’s going on?”
Chip
barreled into the room, practically yanking the doctor off Lee, who was
desperately trying to reach out to his friend.
Chip
slipped an arm under Lee’s shoulders and raised him up, saying quietly, “Lee,
it’s okay, you’re here on Seaview,
you’re home.” He could feel the taut
muscles relaxing and the breathing slowing as Lee rested his head on Chip’s
forearm.
“Give
us a minute, please, sir?” he asked of Admiral Nelson.
Nelson
hesitated, pleasure at Lee’s return warring with his desire to know everything
that had happened. However, the need for
privacy won out. “Of course, Chip.”
As
Frank reached out for the straps, Chip stopped him. “Leave the straps; I’ll
take care of them.”
As
Nelson was the last one out, he closed the door, pausing to look through the
glass before walking out of sight. I swear this is the last time he comes back
to us, to me, hurt. How much can one man
continue to endure?
Chip
was just about to lower Lee back onto the pillows when he felt the first
teardrops fall and the shaking begin. Chip held his brother closer, reassuring him
in a comforting voice. Once the
trembling stopped, he managed to get Lee back onto the bed. He took a step towards the end of the bed to
remove the restraints but Lee attempted to grab his arms.
“Don’t
worry, I’m just going to free your legs, I’m not leaving.”
Suiting
action to his words, Chip unbuckled the restraining strap, tucking them under
the bed out of view. He checked for more
damage to the skipper’s body, luckily finding none.
In
the corridor, out of Lee’s line of vision, Jamie crooked a finger towards Chip,
beckoning him.
“Lee,
I’m going to the door and open it.”
Lee
wrapped both forearms around Chip’s waist, desperately shaking his head,
refusing to let him go.
Chip
paled at his friend’s actions. What the hell did Decker do to you, Lee?
What hell did he put you through for you to act this way? When we track him down, I’m going to be first
in a long line to get my revenge. “Easy
buddy, I won’t leave the room. Just
going to talk with the doctor.”
Lee
became more frantic in his refusal to let Chip walk away. There was something else that Chip
had just become aware of. Throughout
all the struggles, Lee hadn’t uttered a sound.
No yelling to let him go, no cursing to take the hands off him, no
screams of terror. Not. A. Sound.
“Here,
let’s raise the head of your bed. See,
you’ll be able to keep an eye on me the entire time. I’ll even tell Jamie he has to stay away from
the door so I can slam it and prevent anybody from rushing in. Is that okay with you, Captain?” Uses
his rank, his position. Let him make the
decisions. Let him be in charge. Allow him to get control back of his life.
Lee
silently nodded again.
What I wouldn’t
give to be told not to be a wise ass right now! Keeping his hand on the door, Chip opened it
halfway.
“Think
it’s best if you stay away, doc. Just
tell me what you want.”
“We’ll
only worry about major things right now.
How is his breathing? Is he
coughing up any blood?”
“No,
and when he calmed down, his breathing slowed.”
“Good,
keep an eye out for any difficulty. His
ribs are bandaged, so we got lucky.
Check the fingers of both hands to see if they are cold. He should be able to gently wiggle them
except the two that are taped. He gave
out several good blows with the air casts.
They’re durable but not made for fighting.”
“I’ll
check that out. What’s in the IV? He
keeps trying to pull it out of his arm.”
“If
you can talk Lee into oral antibiotics and eating reasonable meals you can
discontinue it once both bags are empty, about another 30 minutes I would
guess. I want one full treatment of
intravenous antibiotics. The other is
for dehydration and malnutrition. It
appears they gave him a little bit of sustenance, just enough to keep him
conscious.”
“I
saw the two hypos on the floor…”
“Yeah,
that’s what set the skipper off. They
contain pain meds and antibiotics I’d planned to add to the IV. I’m
guessing from all the needle marks and bruising on Lee’s arms, he was getting
drugs through an IV.”
“Jamie,
did he say anything when he came to?
Make any sounds?”
“No,
and it has me worried. I didn’t see any
bruising or marks on the throat and he’s breathing all right so I don’t think
it’s any damage to the larynx. Try to
get him to tell you what happened.”
Chip
gave Jamie a ‘you’re kidding’ look.
“You
know what I mean. Ask him yes and no
questions so he can shake or nod his head.
They could’ve injected some drug into his throat.”
Chip
looked back and saw Lee was getting anxious.
“I better go. I think it’s safest
if I use the phone to contact you. Don’t
understand why Lee is terrified of the admiral and you, but it’s best to stay
away.”
“O’Brien
is handling things; Nelson said you should stay with Lee until we figure out
what’s going on. Chances are once the
drugs wear off he’ll be more rational.”
“I
sure hope so.”
Chip
called out to Lee, drawing his full attention to the secure shutting of the
door. It was only a couple steps to the
bed but Lee was already messing with the IV.
“Leave
that alone. Jamie said it has to stay in
until it’s finished.”
Lee
shook his head, trying to yank tubes out of his arm. Chip grabbed him and carefully untangled the
lines and air cast.
“You
pull it out that way and all kinds of bad things will happen. Now listen closely to me. There’s nothing in the IV that will harm
you. You know your body, take a
minute. Do you feel dopey, strange? Think, if anything bad was going to happen
the drugs would have affected you already.”
While
the skipper lay back on the bed considering what Morton has said, Chip checked
for blood in the urine bag and the circulation in Lee’s fingers. He even managed to obtain a set of vitals
without upsetting his patient. The
relief was evident on Chip’s face; the struggle had not caused any further damage.
Chip
left his friend resting as he looked around the newly established recovery
room. He had seen the blueprints but was
TAD for the last month of construction.
Jamie had to be psychic to have pushed so hard for the change at this
point. This room would be perfect to
give Lee his privacy during his recovery.
When
it was time, Chip deftly removed the IV having seen it done way too many
times. Lee’s eyes follow Chip’s every
move.
“All
right, the deal is no IV but you don’t fuss about eating. You know Cookie’s going to knock himself out
making your favorite dishes. You also need to take oral antibiotics twice a
day. There are several cuts on the soles
of your feet that are infected.”
The
skipper’s eyes lit up at that but a look of fear quickly replaced the pleasant
thought of eating.
“Easy
Lee, you’re safe. I’m right by your
side. No one is getting past me. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Come on, let it go, it’s over, you’re free
and safe with me.”
Once
again, Chip had his arms around Lee, talking in a
soft calming tone. The shaking slowly
diminished and Chip helped his friend back down on the bed. Lee tried to pull the blanket up. Chip quickly came to his aid, tucking the
covers around his shoulders.
“Cold? Want another blanket?” At Lee’s nod, Chip grabbed one off the other
bed placing it on top of the first one.
“This will help; you just had a bit of a shock. How about something warm to drink?”
Chip
called the galley for some hot cocoa. In
less than five minutes, Jamie was standing by the door with a tray in his
hand. Morton hurried over.
“I
think he had a flashback or some sort of spell.
Why don’t you send up something to eat in about 45 minutes and I’ll try
to get him to eat? And no, I haven’t
broached the subject of not speaking. I’ve got to move slowly.”
“Don’t
worry, Chip, you’re doing fine. You’d
better take this; he’s sending me daggers with his eyes.”
Chip
set the tray on the table and pushed it closer.
Pouring out a cup three quarters full he held it to Lee’s lips.
“Don’t
think you can manage holding this, I’ll go nice and slow so you won’t choke.”
The
captain twisted his head away refusing to drink. His eyes darted from the cup to Jamie’s
withdrawing back.
“You
love Cookie’s hot cocoa. What’s wrong?”
Lee
pulled away a little, eyes growing wider.
It finally dawned on Chip what the matter was. He raised the cup to his mouth and took a
sip.
“See,
the drink is fine, in fact, I think it’s
one of Cookie’s better efforts. Give
it a try.” Chip once again offered the
cup to Lee who this time took a small swallow.
Lee smiled as the delicious mixture hit his taste buds. Chip put the cup to Lee’s mouth again and
this time he took a large sip. Soon the
mug was empty.
When
Lee’s eyes started to droop, Chip lowered the head of the bed allowing for a
more comfortable position. The captain
seemed to be calming down. Chip sat on
his own bed as he
decided his friend had a smart idea, 40 winks sounded good right now. He stretched out on the rack. After lunch, he would try to get some answers
about Lee’s inability to talk.
When
the lunch trays appeared, the XO rolled the IV stand out of the door so the
used items could be properly discarded.
He had already disposed of the syringes.
Returning with the food, Chip uncovered a cup of chicken noodle soup and
half a ham and cheese sandwich plus a bowl of peaches for Lee. Checking out his own tray he saw the same
selections but in larger quantities.
Once again, Chip acted as taste tester, and then fed Lee.
“The
swelling in your fingers should be down in a couple of days. You will be able to start eating some things
on your own.”
Once
lunch was finished Chip set down next to Lee’s bed.
“We
need to find out what’s made you lose your voice so Jamie can fix it. Your neck showed no sign of bruising or
swelling. Do you remember what
happened?” A small nod was the
answer. “Jamie didn’t examine your
throat so we can’t tell what damage Decker did.
Were you injected in your throat with a drug?” Lee shook his head. The skipper was repeatedly shaking his head,
confusing the XO.
“You’re
saying Decker didn’t cause the condition?”
No
response came from Lee who turned away from his friend and once more becoming agitated. Chip sat silent, realizing it was useless to
push. Lee’s body was becoming tense
again. He would wait, allowing Lee to
work through this at his own speed.
A
couple minutes later Lee faced his friend with what Chip interpreted as a
self-conscious look. His eyes moved away
from his buddy, took a deep breath as if to gain courage, and looked straight
into Chip’s face. As he pointed to his
throat, Chip nodded to show he understood.
Lee opened his mouth and pantomimed screaming, and screaming some more.
“You
were yelling?”
Lee
gestured by putting his hands to his mouth and throwing his arms outwards.
“Screaming,
you were screaming and lost your voice?
Is that it?”
The
captain nodded with a look of shame on his face.
There
was no way Chip would allow his friend to feel guilty. “Now, you wait one minute, Lee Crane. You were held prisoner, tortured and you're
ashamed you were screaming? Are you out
of your mind? I can't even begin to
imagine what that psycho Decker did to you.
You have no reason to be ashamed of having a very human response.” Chip stopped his rant as a memory popped into
his head. “Remember Captain Durban’s
favorite quote from Homer’s The Iliad? We had quite a discussion one night if I recall.
‘Even the bravest cannot fight beyond his strength.’ Do I need to say
anything else?”
Lee
shrugged his shoulders with a small grin on his face. There was no doubt the point was taken.
Chapter 13
Nelson
slammed down the phone in a rage. No, he wasn’t mad at Agent Gordon, in fact,
he was grateful for the news that the man had revealed. Nelson was livid at
Admiral Johnson and his total disregard for Lee’s well-being. How dare he
withhold such important information?
Will
had already reported Lee had a rough night, waking several times from
nightmares. Each time Chip was able to calm him down and stay by his side until
Lee feel back
to sleep. The two young officers were now having breakfast while Jamie shared a
meal in the admiral’s cabin. When they were all finished, the plan was for Chip
to change the bandage on Lee’s feet and with any luck leave the bedside for a short meeting with the admiral and
doctor. In the meantime, Harry repeated what he’d learned from the ONI agent.
“Sparks
is making a copy of the CD Gordon found. He played a short piece of it for me.
At least now we can understand why Lee has been terrified being around you and
me. What I heard was diabolical.”
“Was
it just the two of us?”
“No,
Gordon said there were numerous voices but the message was the same, they hated
Lee and wished him great harm if not outright death. Very chilling.”
Jamie
pushed his plate away.
“You’re thinking of playing it for Lee, aren’t you? Can we
explain away the threatening words he heard?”
“I
only listened to a small portion but I remember the conversations mine was
taken from. I want you to listen to it and try to reconstruct what your true
words were. We can show Decker twisted things around, maybe break through his
conditioning. Sparks will bring the recording to me as soon as he’s finished.”
“You
mentioned the crew. Isn’t Chip’s voice
on the tape? Shouldn’t Lee be pushing him
away, too?”
“You
forgetting Chip was TAD at Pearl.”
At
the doctor’s confused look Nelson continued. “From the brief conversations I
heard, whoever taped us was at our recent baseball outing. It makes sense,
since it would be the easiest time to record so many of the crew.”
“I
think we should listen to the entire recording and select some of the milder
sections for Lee to hear at first. I don’t think he’s up to anything too
hateful right now.”
“I’ll
follow your recommendation, you’re the doctor. We need to give Chip time to
convince Lee to see us.”
“I
doubt we’ll be able to get past the threshold.”
Sparks
delivered the CD simultaneously with Chip calling from Sick Bay.
“Sorry,
Lee won’t let me out of his sight. Best I can do is an open-door hallway meeting.”
“We’ll
be there in five minutes, I have news for you.”
*****
The
three officers stood outside Lee’s room speaking in a low volume. Nelson had
just appraised Chip about the recording when Sparks brought another piece of
unsettling news.
“Detective
Benner contacted Agent Gordon. Schmidt is dead.
It was supposed to be a suicide by hanging but Brennan is suspicious.
Looks like Decker has someone inside the police.”
“Is
there any word on Decker’s whereabouts?”
“He’s
most likely out of the country, even Europe by now. The police have been
checking train stations and airports but even by car he could have gotten quite
a distance away.”
“I
doubt very much he was staying where we found Lee. I think they moved to throw
us off the track. Why else would we suddenly pick up Lee’s signal? The fact he
wanted us to find Lee has me worried.”
Jamie
seemed to know what Chip was concerned about.
“You’re
afraid he’s been programmed like the last time when he tried to kill Harry.”
“It would explain not killing him and letting
us locate him.”
“I’m
not an expert, Chip, but it seems to me Decker wouldn’t go through all the
trouble of driving Lee to the edge if he’s been programmed to destroy Seaview or assassinate the admiral.
Decker has made the task almost impossible for Lee.”
“Chip,
you told me Schmidt said Decker wanted revenge. How better than to drive his
enemy mad, terrified of everyone around him? You saw how he first reacted when
he woke up.”
“But,
Admiral, I was able to calm him and more or less talk him down whenever he
experienced a flashback or nightmare.”
Jamie
stood lost in thought, and then said, “Decker did not know about Chip. Don’t
you remember, Admiral, a couple of the junior officers kidded O’Brien
about being the XO and getting the ‘stare’ down pat. If whoever was taping us
overheard that, he might’ve assumed Frank was the XO. Even if he knew about
Chip, he could have figured he was no longer a member of the crew.”
Chip
nodded in satisfaction. “So I’m
upsetting their plans. They didn’t count on having someone Lee would
unfailingly trust by his side to lean on, to protect him.”
“I
want to play part of the CD and explain what really was said. But we need to be
closer to him. Talk to him, Chip. See if he will agree to us being in the room.
We can still stay at a distance, but I believe he needs to see our faces.”
“I’ll
try, sir. Maybe after lunch. He’s getting antsy right now. I’ve been away from
him too long, I need to return.”
Chip
closed the door and walked over to his friend’s bedside with a smile on his
face.
“See,
back safe and sound. The doc said you can get out of bed tomorrow and sit in
the chair for a while. You can walk around a little if the infection continues
to improve. How does that sound?”
Lee’s
answer was a big smile, the first one Chip has seen for a while. “You
should take a short nap, you look tired.”
The
amber eyes were already closing before Chip could finish the sentence.
*****
Chip
was mentally exhausted; he had used every ounce of persuasion to convince Lee
it was safe to allow the admiral and the doctor into the room. Finally, in
desperation he had the master of arms bring him a side arm.
“See,
I have a gun. I can protect you. I won’t need to use it, but if it makes you
feel safe, I’ll wear it while they are in the room. I won’t let them come
close. Now, will you allow them to speak to you?”
What kind of
lies do they want to tell me? Will they claim I’m insane, and imagined
everything that happened to me? I’ll let them in, but on my terms.
There
were a couple minutes of silence as Lee looked around the room, his eyes going
to the door and the bed several times. Finally, he nudged Chip towards the door
and when the blonde reached it, he turned around.
If they try and
rush us, Chip will have enough time
to shoot. He might only get one, but that would even the odds.
“Now
what?”
The
skipper motioned to come forward a little then held up both hands -- stop! He
looked around the room again, nodded and pointed to Chip’s feet.
It
took a moment then the puzzled look vanished.
“Got it, they can come in but no further then where I’m standing. Is
that it, Lee?”
Receiving
a quick nod of the head, Chip carefully marked the spot in his mind. He did not
want to take the chance of scaring Lee. A quick phone call to Jamie and the
meeting was set for 30 minutes.
At
the appointed time, both men appeared at the door. Nelson knocked and waited.
Chip was standing next to Lee’s bed.
“You
want me to open the door, Lee?”
An
air casted arm reached around his back, answering Chip’s question. He called
out permission to enter. As the door opened, Chip could feel Lee trembling.
When the two officers entered the room, shutting the door behind them, Lee’s
breathing quickened, almost to the point of hyperventilating. Chip feared a
panic attack would follow.
“Please
stop right there,’ he said quickly, pointing at Nelson and Jamieson. He turned slightly and bent over to speak
softly. “It’s going to be all right. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you.
You know, I have a gun and they don’t. Take a couple deep breaths and relax.
When you’re ready, let them come a little closer. Not until then. You’re in
charge, don’t forget that.”
Nelson
and Jamie wisely stood still keeping their hands in plain sight not making a
sound. Lee’s breathing slowed but his eyes remained filled with terror. Chip
could only guess what courage it took his friend to motion the men forward. A
few steps more and he threw up the stop signal.
Jamie
spoke first.
“You’re
looking better, Captain. Are you in any pain?”
A
fast shake of the head, Lee’s eyes never losing sight of their hands.
“Good,
good. I want to discuss your inability to speak. Yesterday when Chip asked you
to cough, you were able to make a sound, which showed no damage to the vocal
cords. Without a laryngeal examination, I can't be 100% positive, but it seems
you were suffering from aphonia, a muteness caused by a great emotional
distress. You might call it a hysterical muteness. We can talk more about it
later, I just want to let you know I am sure there’s no permanent damage and
you will regain your voice.”
Immediately
Lee started shaking his head and made several circles with a hand by his head.
“No,
Captain. Not saying you’re crazy. You have acute psychological trauma. What
Decker put you through could definitely be called that.”
Lee
seemed to accept Jamie’s exclamation and calmed down. The nonthreatening tone
of voice and no movement on the part of either men helped allay some of his
fears a little. The trembling stopped and he removed his arm from Chip’s back.
He did however keep his eyes trained on the visitors, shifting back and forth,
and alert to any danger.
Harry
cleared his throat, unsure on how to approach the subject.
“You
were subject to terrible things, people playing with your mind. I know Decker
played tapes during his sessions. They were
nothing but lies, bits and pieces of conversations spliced together to make you
believe the worst. You’ve got to believe
me, son.” His voice faltered a bit, his
feelings scraping along with Lee on the edge of this nightmare. “Try to remember all the good times with the people on those recordings. Think on
how many occasions the doctor saved your life. Can’t you recall when Kowalski
risked his own life rescuing you from that giant octopus? Does that sound like
something a person would do who wants you dead? I have a copy of a CD that was
found in the room where you were rescued. I’m going to play some of it for you --
and try to explain how it was manipulated and taken out of context.”
Nelson
quickly set up a CD player and a pair of speakers on a table by the door. With a deep breath, he switched it on.
“It was a big
mistake having him as captain. I have to get rid of him before he destroys everything.”
“Lee,
I remember very well when I said this. But I wasn't talking about you.”
He
got no further than those few sentences.
Upon hearing those words again, Lee violently reacted. He grabbed at
Chip, trying to remove the sidearm at the same time attempting to get out of
bed and further away from Nelson and Jamie. He had to stop the voices, stop
them before the burning began. He couldn’t survive being tossed into that
inferno again, not with his enemies right in front of him. Who knew what
fiendish plots they had in store for him? He was a fool to have allowed them to
get so close, now he would suffer for it.
Somewhere
someone was yelling to turn off the damn recording.
Why
wasn’t Chip shooting at them, driving them out of room? No, no Chip was pushing
his hands away from the gun, trying to hold him down. Hearing his friend’s calm
voice telling him he was safe, no one was going to harm them, did nothing to
help. He only knew if he didn’t believe what the voices were saying the intense
burning pain would soon start. He couldn’t endure that again. Decker had
promised if that happened again there would be no stopping it. He had to
believe the voices and that meant he was in grave danger. Why couldn’t Chip see
that? Why wasn’t he helping him? He continued to struggle with his friend until
he felt the prick of the needle. The blanket of sleep overcame him as he
realized once again that all was lost.
*****
Chip
kept speaking to Lee until the sedative took hold. He prayed he hadn’t lost
Lee’s trust by allowing Jamie to medicate him. The situation had grown out of
control. Why had he allowed the admiral to play that accursed CD? He, more than
anyone, should have known how Lee would respond, having witnessed the
nightmares.
“You
might as well check Lee out now that he’s asleep. How long will he be out?”
“Based
on past experience, probably 6 to 7 hours. Long enough for you to get out of
here and unwind. Go take a tour of the boat, there’s no reason for you to hang
around.”
“No,
I want to be able to truthfully say I saw what you did when Lee wakes up. I’ll
stay out of your way, but I’m not leaving until you’re done.”
“Very
well. Admiral,
would you please call in a corpsman. You needn’t stay, I will report back to
you as soon as possible.”
*****
Some
hours later as Lee started to stir, Chip stood at his side wanting Lee to be
reassured of his safety. Minutes later the amber eyes opened and glazed at him.
Chip worried he had destroyed his friend’s faith in him. Lee looked around the
room, apparently to check out the place. He shifted his body, testing if he was
free from any forms of restraints. Apparently satisfied, he looked at Chip
again, his face reflecting his puzzlement.
“You've
been asleep for about seven hours. I'm sorry I allowed Jamie to sedate you, but
it was the only thing to do short of strapping you down. Can you understand
that?” Not getting any response, he continued. “I stayed with you while Jamie
checked you over. You need to listen closely and I'll tell you exactly what
happened. The bandages on your feet were changed, and Jamie was pleased how
well they were healing. You can start walking if you want to, but it's best to
stay off them as much as possible until the infection is cured.
“The
catheter is gone, which I'm sure you're happy about. He did the standard vital
checks. To be safe your ribs were x-rayed again and rewrapped. The only
invasive procedure was drawing a couple vials of blood. With John's help you
had a sponge bath and as you can tell, you're now in a set of scrubs. They're
easier because of the casts. Nothing else was done to you; no one else was in
the room. Do you believe me?”
Lee
continued to stare, barely blinking. Chip was afraid Lee was retreating into
his own private world, away from the nightmarish events of the past week.
“It
was stupid to play the recording but we never expected you to react so
strongly. The admiral wanted to show you how his words were manipulated. I
heard the CD; you can't really believe Admiral Nelson would say things like
that about you. I know how he feels towards you; you're like a son to him.”
Lee finally blinked then turned his head away.
“Okay,
no more about this right now. Would you like me to raise the bed to a sitting
position or maybe try walking a little?”
With
no response, Chip tried another tactic. He started reading out loud the reports
he had gathered earlier in the day. He read the results of training drills
commenting how, while the scores were very good, they had slipped a second or
two, sure that that would be rectified as soon as he got back to duty. O'Brien
just didn't have the experience with the silent glare. Chip stopped talking
when Lee's body shifted. He had been peacefully listening, Chip was sure of it,
but now something upset him. Then it dawned on him. He mentioned a crewmember
by name. If he kept it impersonal Lee was unaffected. Chip continued the
update, careful to avoid mentioning any names.
Finished, he closed the laptop. It was
then Lee finally turned towards him with a small nod. Chip smile back. After
disposing of the laptop, he helped Lee out of bed steadying him as he first
stood up on shaky legs. He took a few steps with Chip right by his side but
soon steadied. A lap around the room with a long stop by the large window to
check out the empty hallway proved to be enough for him. He sat down in the
chair that Chip had been using. After making sure Lee was comfortable Chip placed
the laptop in front of Lee and put in a DVD.
“Before
dinner gets here, I thought you might like to see a video about real Navy
life.” Pressing the play button, the opening credits for McHale’s Navy appeared on the screen.
*****
The
next morning Lee appeared to have recovered from the day before fiasco. By the time breakfast was served he had
already taken a short stroll around the room and sat up in the chair waiting
for his food. Since the swelling had
gone down in Lee’s fingers Jamieson had ordered breakfast sandwiches cut into
half for easy handling. Lee was
delighted to be able to feed himself. As
soon as Chip tasted it, he happily ate some of the food. The use of straws for the OJ and coffee
allowed Lee to regain more control of his actions.
“I
think from now on we'll stick some napkins into your cast,” Chip commented as
he cleaned egg off fingers and the edge of the air casts. “I’ve got another surprise to you.”
The
always-thinking XO set up the laptop on the table and adjusted the height. Next he placed the pencil, eraser side down,
between the ring and middle finger of Lee's right hand.
“Now
you can ask or answer questions. I'll
try to phrase mine so you can type yes or no.
First, do you need anything for pain?”
NO
“Are
you comfortable in the chair?”
YES
It
was Lee's turn. He punched out a word.
SEAVIEW
“How
did I know that would be your first question?
The boat’s fine. The crew was
asking about you, hoping you’re feeling better.”
NO
LYING
“If
you mean the guys are lying, you're very wrong.
Every man on this boat is concerned about you.” Seeing Lee getting worked up, Chip wisely
changed the subject. He was glad he had stopped
himself from commenting that O'Brien was doing a good job, remembering how Lee
reacted to the use of names yesterday.
“Is
there anything special you want for dinner?
Lunch is hotdogs and steak fries and an extra thick chocolate
milkshake.”
Lee
still was not replying. Chip tried
kidding around with him, attempting to divert his attention away from his
thoughts about the crew’s imaginary plans against him.
“Look,
I know you’re never hungry but take pity on your favorite roommate. Think about my stomach. I have been forced to eat whatever they’ve
been sending, not allowing me seconds or even extra potatoes and gravy. I’m sure they're even sneaking extra
vegetables on my plate. Can't you tell
I'm wasting away?”
Lee
grinned and shook his head at the hound dog expression on his friend's
face.
Mission
accomplished, Chip
thought to himself.
It
took a while but finally FRIED CHICKEN appeared on the screen.
“That's
what I'm talking about! And we can have
some fresh made biscuits with plenty of honey, corn on the cob dripping with
butter. What about dessert, the most
important part of a meal?” He knew he
was laying it on a bit thick but it was so important to see the smile on his
friend's face. He'd gladly play the fool
all day long for that sight.
YOU
ARE NUTS. And after a thoughtful
pause... BROWNIES.
CHAPTER 14
Dr.
Jamieson had been busy sending and receiving messages over the last 12
hours. He had come up with a plan to
help his captain, but knew he had a tough road ahead of him getting the young
officer to agree to it. Not that Lee
really had any choice, but it would be better if he willingly agreed. It would facilitate the recovery. The doctor also had to take into
consideration the admiral’s and XO's need to contribute to the healing
process. It would not be easy on any of
those involved. At least the admiral
would have the gratification of having his hand in the plan. It was going to take some string pulling, and
Admiral Harriman Nelson definitely had the clout to make it happen. Jamieson gathered his notes and made his way
to Nelson's cabin to lay out the details.
He
got to the room just as the steward was leaving with a half-eaten
breakfast. Dobson held the door open and informed the doctor he had just
delivered a fresh carafe of coffee.
Harry looked up at the sound of voices.
“Come
in, Will and pour yourself a cup. Have
you checked on Lee this morning?”
“I
managed to look into the room a couple of hours ago. He appeared to be peacefully sleeping.”
Harry
took a quick glance at his watch. “Two
hours ago. Did you go to bed last
night?”
“I
needed to contact some specialists, and what with all the different time zones
it was easier to take naps in between replies.”
He
decided to get right to the point. He
knew from the past when it came to the young captain’s well-being the admiral
couldn't stand people pussyfooting around.
“Even
though my colleagues have not examined Lee, since I have been his physician and
been privy to numerous psychological traumas, they feel confident in their
recommendation for a course of treatment.
The final say so will belong to the actual doctor treating him, but we
all concur there is a need for hospitalization.
Without breaking any security regulations, I was able to inform them of
what we knew so far about his mistreatment.
They all are experts in the field of PTSD and the effects on the mind
from torture and brainwashing.
“All
four of us agree that the captain needs to be removed from any contact with the
Institute. This includes members of the Seaview crew. I'm sure we don't have all the recordings of
what the skipper was subject to, but I would guess most of the crew’s voices
would be on them. He needs to feel he’s
in a totally safe environment.”
“But
what about Chip? He's the only one Lee's
been able to be in contact with. Won't
it be more harmful to remove him?” What
Harry didn't say, but they both knew he was thinking, what about me? He was
practically Lee's father.
“Chip
should accompany Lee to the clinic. He
can help reassure Lee he hasn't been kidnapped again, that he is in a safe
place. If you can spare him a little while longer, there are places he can stay
close to the clinic where he could be on the spot if needed.”
Nelson
toyed with the papers on his desk, nervously ruffling the pages. “Can't I help in any way? Will, you know what he means to me.”
“Don’t
worry, Harry, you play a big part. Dr.
Freud -- that’s just a coincidence, there’s no relation -- has recommended the
Dreyfus clinic. It is located near Ojai,
so later on it would be quite accessible for visitation. It's not well known to the public but in
certain circles is held in high regard.
The clinic exists mainly for those in government or business. Because of
their patient load clinic personnel have been carefully screened by numerous
intelligence agencies. I’m recommending Dr. Eve Anderson to be Lee’s attending
physician. She specializes in
psychological and stress-related cases.”
“So
what is this big part I'm playing? It
seems you have everything all fixed up already.”
“No,
not quite. Not just anyone can be
admitted. And we need to make sure Dr.
Anderson is in charge of Lee’s care, she’s one of the best there is, especially
if you want to keep it out of the spook community. So it will take someone, perhaps a retired
four-star, Nobel Prize-winning admiral, to throw his weight around to arrange
that.”
“Do
you have anyone specific in mind?” Harry
laughed. “Who do I contact and when?”
Will
knew that Harry, while staying out of Lee's view, would want to personally
check out the medical facility that he was entrusting his son’s care to. Will
proceeded to lay out all the details.
Everything was planned out, starting with the ambulance meeting them
when they docked, and the unmarked Institute car that would carry Chip and
himself to the clinic. After yesterday’s
debacle, the doctor was worried about Lee’s reactions to what was to come. For him to be willingly sedated would take
all of Chip’s skills of persuasion.
Dr.
Stillman, a world- renowned psychologist, had made some suggestions to Jamie
for Lee's therapy over the next two days until they reached homeport. It would be important to keep trying to break
through the terrors that held Lee’s mind prisoner. The longer he stayed in his nightmare world,
the chances for a full recovery diminished.
A lot had been asked of Chip, and even more would be required. For someone not trained in psychiatry he was
doing an exceptional job. Will was not
surprised, the steadfast officer always managed to exceed what was required of
him, without hesitation or need of praise.
What he was going to be called upon to do over the next three days would
surely test him.
*****
Back
in Sick Bay, Jamie adjusted the angle of the camera for better view, disliking
what he was doing. He hated to violate
Lee's, or for that matter, anyone's privacy.
He was soon satisfied Lee was comfortable relying on Chip again with no
after effects from yesterday's melt down.
It was time to put the first part of the therapy in action. Picking up his phone, he buzzed the sick
room. It looked like Chip tossed out a
funny comment as he went to the wall to answer the page.
“Morton.”
“Chip,
you need to do exactly what I say. After
you hang up continue talking with Lee, make sure he's feeling secure. Then tell him you are leaving for ten minutes
to speak to me in my office. When he
becomes upset, calm him down but be firm, you are leaving for ten minutes. You are not going anywhere else, only the
office and back. You might offer to
leave the door open if he wants.”
“I
don't know about this.”
“Sorry,
you have to do it. We’ve got to do more
to assist him with his recovery, Chip.
We can watch the monitor in my office and if he really freaks out you
can go right back.”
“Okay,
I don't like it, but you're the doctor.”
Sitting
back down next to Lee, Chip finished the ‘conversation’ they were having and then
brought up his leaving.
“Lee,
I have to meet with Jamie for short while.”
OKAY
“I'm
meeting him in his office.”
NO
“Yes,
his office. Just for ten minutes.”
NO NO
“I
have to. Ten minutes, I promise. You want me to leave the door open?”
PLEASE
NO
“Do
you trust me?”
YES
“Then
believe me when I say nothing will happen.”
No
answer. Lee's eyes were wide with fear.
“No
one has attempted to hurt you since you returned.”
U
R HERE
“You
know if they were determined, one man couldn't stand in the way.”
Chip
stood up and walked to the door with a sinking heart. I hope
Jamie knows what he's doing. “I'll
be back in 10 minutes, Lee, I promise.
I'll leave the door open a little just in case. Keep an eye on the wall clock. Ten minutes.”
He was gone.
Chip
didn't let Jamie say a word. “Why is it
so important for me to leave him alone?
Can't you see how scared he is?”
“We
need to try to wean you away from him.”
Jamie
laid out plans for Lee's hospitalization while Chip’s eyes never left the
monitor. At five minutes, Lee was
standing, head turning between clock and the door. Jamie continued on with what Chip had to do
later in the day, part of the suggested therapy. With seven minutes gone, Lee took a couple
hesitant steps towards the door and stopped.
It seemed to Chip Lee was on the brink of hyperventilating. Jamie showed him the paper with some of the
comments from the CD along with the true conversation. Lee made it to the door, pushed it open a
little wider and stuck his head out, searching for his friend. Chip couldn't stand it any longer and grabbed
the paper from the doctor and rushed to his buddy. He quickly folded the page and stuffed it in
his pocket.
Once
back in the room, Chip placed his arm around the trembling man’s shoulders and
gave him a quick hug. “See, told you I'd
be right back and nothing would happen.”
Chip got Lee back into the chair then he squatted down next to Lee,
waiting for the breathing to slow down.
Lee had a sheepish grin on his face as he looked at his friend.
“I
knew you could do it. Next time it will
be a little easier. You just have to
keep fighting the thoughts Decker placed in your head.”
In
his mind, Chip knew the doctors were right.
He would not be able to be with Lee 24/7 once they reached Santa
Barbara. The psychiatrists were trained and better suited to treat his brother,
at least that's what his mind kept telling him.
What his heart said was a different matter.
*****
Over
the next two days, Chip managed to leave Lee for short periods. At dinner last night, he had been able to
stop being the food taster. However, Lee
would still not let anyone else into the room.
And worse, when Chip attempted to ask questions about what had happened
with Decker, Lee shut down, withdrawing into himself. The blonde officer had been told to stop the
interrogation if it brought forth any negative reactions.
On
this last day, two things had to be accomplished. The first, trying to bring up the truth over
the conversations on the CD. Chip had
put this off since the first visit with Jamie.
He hadn’t wanted to push too hard, since he decided the separation issue
was more important. The second, the need
to explain about Lee’s immediate medical care.
Now
that the sores on the feet were improving, after breakfast both walked around
the room several times, as they had done the last few days. Due to the other injuries, this was the only
exercise available. Chip settled him down in the chair when he saw Lee starting
to limp, the feet were still painful to walk on. It helped release some of the
restlessness Lee was experiencing, so he kept pushing through the discomfort.
Chip placed the laptop in front of him.
In a calm voice he started.
“Lee,
I want to discuss the CD Agent Gordon found.”
NO
“Yes,
Lee. We need to address this. Don't worry, I'm not going to play it again. Just
listen to what I say, that's all I ask.”
I’ve got to get him to listen to the words spoken by someone else. Then he
might listen to an explanation.
He
waited for a response and finally was rewarded by a small nod. He read the
hurtful words off a sheet of paper in an expressionless voice attempting to
give little meaning to them.
“Should
never have been given that command.”
Lee’s
body stiffened at the words and his eyes tightly closed. When nothing more happened, Chip continued.
“The
Admiral did say this, but not about you.
Think about how he feels towards you, the special relationship you both
have. You have to believe the truth --
that he was speaking to Starke about Admiral Bernardi and his job at the
Pentagon. He would never say these words
to us, but we both know his feelings regarding politics over ability. Doesn’t that make more sense than not wanting
you on Seaview?”
Becoming
agitated, Lee pressed his hands over his ears, shaking his head. Chip immediately stopped, grateful for the nonviolent
reaction and that he was also able to finish the explanation. It wasn’t much but it was an
improvement. If he could just make a
little crack in the wall Lee was hiding behind....
The
hands came down as Lee staggered over to the bed. Having tried to help and been pushed away
before, Chip let him get in by himself.
He was allowed to cover the shivering body.
“You
rest for a while. I’ll wake you in time
for lunch.”
When
he was sure Lee was asleep, Chip paid a fast visit to Jamie’s office.
“At
least he wasn’t reaching for a gun this time.
Do you think I made any real headway, Jamie?”
“He
definitely responded in a more rational way.
Doctor Stillman’s suggestion seems to have proved successful. Hopefully Dr. Anderson can take your place as
the neutral voice.”
“He
won’t or can’t listen to the tapes. You saw how
he reacted to my saying them. I’m not sure he even took in the explanation.”
“That
will be the major key to Lee’s recovery.
Anderson needs to find the trigger to Lee’s terror at hearing the
recording. By the way, when are you
planning on telling him about his stay at Dreyfus?”
“After
dinner, I don’t want him brooding about it for the whole day. Until then, I’m keeping things light. He’s been happy hearing the ship’s reports,
he cares about what’s happening.”
After
double-checking a few points with Jamie, Chip left, not wanting Lee to wake up
alone.
*****
Lee
seemed to enjoy dinner even if Chip had to feed him the peach pie à la
mode. Over their second cup of coffee
Chip explained what was going to happen when Seaview arrived home.
“You’ve
always wanted people to shoot from the hip, so here it comes. We have your therapy all set up when we get
back to Santa Barbara.”
WILSON
“I
admit Doctor Wilson helped you after the People Republic brainwashed you but a
couple sessions a week with him is not enough this time. You need to be in a controlled environment
with round-the-clock supervision. Jamie
has made arrangements to admit you to Dreyfus Clinic.”
NOT
LOCK ME UP
“We
would never do that, just providing the help you need.”
IN
ASYLUM
Lee’s
eyes easily showed the panic he was feeling.
Chip had to remain firm.
HELP
ME
“Dr.
Anderson has been highly recommended and the facility is very discreet. It looks more like a resort. There’s even a tennis court and a putting
green.”
Lee
held up his encased arms.
“I’m
just thinking ahead, Lee. Your golf game
could use a little work.” Chip prayed a
little humor would calm the situation.
By the look on Lee’s face as he slowly shook his head it gave him some
hope. Chip continued discussing the
arrangements.
“The
ambulance will be dockside to immediately take you to the clinic. When you wake up I’ll be by your bedside, I
promise.”
WAKE
UP
“We
thought sedating you would be the easiest way to get you out of the room and
off Seaview.” When Lee didn’t argue with that, Chip said,
“I’ll follow you in the car. Dr.
Anderson bent some of the rules and I’ll be able to spend several hours with
you over the next couple days.”
CRAZY NO CHOICE
“Will
you be sensible? No one is saying you’re
crazy or insane. This is the best thing
for you, Lee. You have trusted me so
far, just do it for a little longer.”
Lee
reluctantly typed YOU DO IT
“Jamie
thought you would demand that. Okay,
I’ll give you the injection.” Pausing
for the moment, Chip made sure that Lee was looking straight at him before he
continued. “I’m not going to lie to
you. We anticipate an extended stay. You won’t be able to pull your normal Sick
Bay stuff. You’ll get the physical and
psychological help you need. Believe me
when I say this is what you need, Lee.
Have I ever been wrong?”
A
small smile appeared and rapidly disappeared.
Lee tossed down the pencil and ran his right hand back and forth through
his hair in the familiar gesture, however this time the casted arm managed to
really mess it up. A shoulder shrug told Chip he had made his point.
No
more was said about Lee’s hospitalization the rest of the evening. Chip managed to find a funny movie in the box
of DVDs kept for Sick Bay patients. It
seemed to help as Lee climbed in bed and soon drifted off to sleep without too
much tossing and turning.
The
next morning was hard. Lee was extremely
anxious, only eating a couple bites of breakfasts. Chip repeatedly reassured him about the clinic. There were no padded cells or
straitjackets. He would be free to
wander the grounds. Even though that
wasn’t going to happen for a while, it seemed to comfort Lee.
Shortly
before docking, Chip administered the sedation without any problem, and Lee fell
peacefully asleep. As the stretcher
moved through the deserted passageways Chip was glad he’d given the order to
have the crew go ashore before moving Lee off the boat.
On
the other hand, he should have known that the men under Lee’s command would find
a way to honor their commanding officer.
“ATTENTION! HAND, SALUTE!”
As
the stretcher came through the hatch topside, Chief Sharkey bellowed the words
and 110 men snapped to attention on the deck and saluted their captain as he
left the boat. A fitting tribute to the
man and officer they all held in the highest regard.
Admiral
Nelson was standing at the brow. Chip
halted and watched as the orderlies carried the stretcher across to the waiting
ambulance, and then saluted and uttered the time honored words to Admiral
Nelson. “Permission to go ashore,
Admiral.”
Returning the salute, Nelson said, “Permission
granted.” Dropping his arm, he took Chip’s hand in a warm handshake, then
let go and reached for a handkerchief in his pocket. "Sorry, damn
allergies acting up this morning," he said as he daubed at his red-rimmed
eyes. “Good luck, Commander Morton. Bring him back to us.”
Nelson didn't have any allergies.
"I’ll do my best, sir.” Straightening up, he saluted the ensign and
left the boat.
END PART ONE
Chapter 15
He was no longer on Seaview, that much he could sense. Was that really important? He
was a prisoner no matter where he was, his hands useless, and feet too painful
to run very far left him at the mercy of his keepers.
Fight
through the fog, Lee! Open your eyes, you have to protect yourself. Think, try
to remember what happened. Try to open
your eyes. Fight off the haze.
Why was he here? Did Chip know where he
was? Yes, yes now he remembered - the injection. He must be at the clinic. Chip
promised he’d be there when Lee woke up.
Chip
always keeps his promise.
He was having trouble thinking again,
nothing was making any sense. He couldn’t trust himself to do the correct
thing, but he did know Chip would protect him. The fog was descending again
making everything muddled. He was tired, too tired to try and keep things
straight in his head. You’ll see, Chip
will be waiting. Lee drifted back to sleep, not understanding what was
happening around him, but somehow knowing
he was safe for now.
The second time when Lee opened his eyes
he saw Chip sitting next to his bed as promised, reading the sports section of
the newspaper. Not wanting to alert his
friend just yet, Lee kept still and studied the room through hooded eyes. He noticed the golden colored walls, unlike
anything he'd seen in a hospital. The
place was very roomy, with a loveseat, the chair Chip was in and a desk under a
good-sized window. The bed was very
comfortable and unless he had shrunk, was a queen size -- bless those extra six
inches.
“As a spy you should learn how to
control your breathing better, smarty-pants,” Chip said as he put the paper
down. “Not that padded cell you were
expecting, huh? Now, if you are awake
enough, turn your head and you'll see there is a nightstand, a lamp plus a
chest of drawers and closet on the other side.
On the other side of the closed door are a shower and a bathtub. Lucky you,
I'll make sure to bring you some bubble bath on my next visit.”
With some difficulty, Lee pushed back
the light blanket and gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed, rolling
his shoulders to limber them up. He observed his new outfit and looked at Chip.
“Angie went shopping and got some
shirtsleeve PJs. She had to struggle not
to buy the Superman ones. She thought
they would look cute on you. Jamie has
already driven back to the Institute. Only four of us know where you are
exactly.”
The fear in Lee's eyes subsided. Chip was right; he had been afraid of waking
up in a padded room. This didn’t look
like any psych ward he'd ever seen. Were
there cameras here? Was he being watched
every second? They knew he couldn’t
escape off a submarine in open waters.
Here, there was a greater chance for a successful escape. Is that what they wanted him to try to
do? That way they could take Seaview away from him for good. Then again, how could he command a boat full
of men wanting to harm him?
Lee couldn't think, couldn't understand
what was happening. Yes, he must be
being kept under control with some drug.
Sure Chip had tasted his food, but one little bite might not affect
you. The mind would clear for a while
then go fuzzy. His head felt full of
cotton at times. That would account for
the blackouts he had been experiencing.
The first time it happened was when he woke up upon his return to the
boat with Jamie, Nelson and Frank standing around him. The rest he couldn't remember until everyone
was gone and Chip was there talking to him.
He would play it cool until the time was
right, pretending to go along with his ‘treatment.’ Lee paled at a sudden thought, what if they
wanted to try electroshock? He needed to
be alert to what the doctors here were going to try to do to him.
He had Chip along to help him. Chip would never be a part of anything
against him. Chip's loyalty and
friendship was the one steadfast thing he could continue to believe in.
The sedation had worn off completely,
leaving his mind clear to plan his next move. He tried to remember what Chip
had said before leaving Seaview. He
recalled being told he would be free to walk around the grounds, the joking
about his golf game. That was good news, it would allow Lee to check out and
map escape routes.
Something
else he said, that's right, he would have someone different from Dr. Wagner, a
specialist. What kind of doctor specializes in helping you to survive friends
who want to kill you?
His mind started to wander again,
letting all the frightening thoughts overtake him. Chip is looking at me strangely. How can I reveal the trepidation I
feel? What are Nelson’s true intentions? Maybe I should smile, act happy to be
here, or at least pretend to accept the fact of the forced commitment.
Forced commitment, those words cause the stomach to clinch. He was staring off into space when he felt
Chip’s hand on his knee giving it a little shake and calling out to him.
“Lee, Lee are you all right? I lost you
there for a while, buddy.”
Lee looked around the room searching for
something and frowning when he didn’t find what he wanted. Chip must have seen
the change of expression on his friend’s face.
“What’s wrong, are you in pain? Should I
get a nurse?”
Before Lee could respond, there was a
knock on the doorframe. The man who
stood in the doorway was around Lee’s age.
He was wearing a white shirt and white pants with an ID clip to his
belt, a standard hospital uniform.
“Okay to come in?” Not waiting for an
answer, he walked up to the two men.
“Commander Crane, my name is Rick and I will be working very closely
with you. When I learned about your hands, I jury-rigged something easier for
your call button. There’s a chain by your headboard that has a small bar
attached forming a triangle that you can pull down using your fingertips.” He
quickly demonstrated, checking to make sure Lee could use it.
“The Doc will be here in a few minutes
to say hello, but told me to go ahead and get your lunch order. I understand
you want to feed yourself. I figure the roast beef sandwich would be the best,
and some apple wedges. Is that all right for you?”
Lee wasn’t in the mood to eat and
shrugged his shoulders. Chip appeared to be ready to step in but Rick beat him
to it.
“Well, if that doesn’t sound good, I can
go through the whole menu and you just signal what you want. Because, sir,
whether you like it or not, you’re going to eat. I’ve got my orders. And after
eight years in the Navy I definitely know how to follow orders.”
Chip asked, “You were in the service,
Rick? When did you get out?”
“Yes sir, mostly at Bethesda, and then San
Diego Balboa with a deployment to Afghanistan in between. At the end of my
stint, my wife put her foot down. Guess she was afraid they might get me back
into harm’s way again and with three and a half kids I can’t blame her.”
Turning his attention back to his charge he continued in his nonthreatening but
determined manner. “Now Commander Crane, about lunch. There are always
hamburgers or hotdogs and the chef is doing baked spaghetti. He also does great vegan dishes. We’re pretty accommodating
here.”
Lee threw up his arms in the classic ‘I
surrender’ signal.
“Okay, roast beef sandwich it is, sir.
I’ll be back in about a half hour with your trays.” The orderly turned to go
then stopped, smacking his forehead. “I almost forgot, I’ll be setting up your
special laptop for you sometime this afternoon. Well, I better go get your food
before Doc shows up and chews my six out.”
* * * * *
Chip had sat back and watched the
exchange. When the orderly first walked in, he was concerned how Lee would
react to a stranger in the room. There was a sudden frozen expression but that
quickly changed with the orderly’s bubbly personality. Doctor Anderson had
assured Chip all personnel would knock to give warning before entering.
Hopefully the others would allow Lee a little time to actually grant
permission. Rick might be just what the skipper needed, respectful, efficient,
upbeat -- and unable to take no for an answer. Maybe it would keep Lee from
brooding too much.
Whatever had been upsetting Lee before
the interruption seemed to have gone away, but Chip was still curious. “Lee,
before Rick showed up you were aggravated about something. Is it something I
can help you with?”
The smile was back on Lee’s face as he
shook his head. He managed to move his fingers a little as if typing, and then
the light dawned.
“You were looking for the laptop, is that it?”
At Lee’s affirmative nod, Chip continued, upset at himself for causing Lee
unnecessary distress. “Sorry, I should have had it set up for you. I know it’s
frustrating for you.”
They were interrupted by a knock on the
door.
“May I come in, Commander Crane?”
A woman stood in the doorway. She looked
to be in her late 40s and was attractively dressed in a dark rose pantsuit and
ivory blouse. Her hair was light brown and just touched her shoulders.
Lee tensed as Chip got to his feet. Did he perceive her as a threat? Was she
dangerous? Chip said hello and smiled. Lee realized it was just a gentleman’s
gesture of standing, not a defensive move. Lee reluctantly nodded his permission.
“I’m Doctor Eve Anderson, and I'm your
psychiatrist.” Her brilliant blue eyes had a twinkle in them as she observed
Lee’s reaction. “You're surprised having a woman doctor. It's even worse; I'm a
retired Army major.” She gave a little laugh. “I hope you don't hold the
selection of my branch of service against me.”
Chip couldn't resist saying some of
their best friends had been misguided enough to join the Army, but everyone was
entitled to one mistake.
With an answering smile, the doctor got right
to it. “I won't bother you right now, just want to introduce myself and set a
couple of ground rules. I will be back later in the afternoon for our first
session.
“Starting tomorrow I expect you out of
bed and dressed. Doctor Kennedy examined you upon your admittance. The infected
sores on the feet are improving. They probably still are causing some
discomfort, and with the injuries to the ribs and hands, your physical
activities are limited. However, there is no reason to remain in bed.
“I’m modifying my routine by having the
sessions in your room – for now. The same goes with dining in your quarters. I
won’t put up with that behavior for very long. The first thing we’ll work on is
your acceptance that no one here will harm you. One way to do that is to mingle
during meals. I’m allowing Commander Morton to stay with you overnight. The
strong bond of trust I'm told that exists between you will help you to
acknowledge that the clinic is totally safe. I expect you to accomplish that in
a very short time.”
Lee had to admit, he was surprised at being addressed in this manner. On Seaview Chip and everyone else had
walked on tiptoes around him. There was a slight possibility the clinic faculty
was harmless, but he’d reserve judgment. He still didn’t trust the motives of
anyone and that included Doctor Anderson.
Was she setting a trap? Her body
language wasn’t saying so, but maybe she was a pro. His own was betraying him with his increased
sense of fear.
By Morton’s expression, Lee’s face must
have showed his feelings. This had to be another scheme to draw him into a
false sense of security. How could he trust this woman, after all Jamieson had
requested her. Could it be possible Nelson had bribed the doctor to declare Lee
insane? They could lock him away forever. Was there another building on the
grounds with the dangerous patients? That was the real reason for wanting Lee
to stay in the hospital. Chip said only a few people knew where he was, how
easy it would be just to disappear forever.
Lee continued to work himself into a
panic attack. He started to breathe heavily, swiveling his, head, looking
around the room for a means of escape. Chip was here, he would help. Lee got
off the bed and attempted to make his way out of the room but Chip blocked the way.
Is
he being taken in by Nelson and Jamieson’s fake concern over my well-being?
Doesn’t he understand what is happening, what a devious plan this really is?
Think Chip, think. Why else would my enemies commit me here?
The doctor got in front of Chip, shaking
her head. Placing her hands on Lee's shoulders to get his attention, the doctor
spoke to him in a calm but firm voice. “Come on, take a deep breath and let it
out slowly. You’re having an anxiety attack, Lee, nothing to worry about. Take
a breath, release it slowly.”
At first, Lee struggled, trying to bat
her hands away. Blows fell on her arms but the doctor didn't flinch. One swing
connected with her face at the corner of her mouth, but
she still held tight. His body started to tremble as he fought to escape.
“You're just overwrought. You need to
control your breathing. In-out, in-out. You’ve been cooped up too long in one
place or another. It will do you good to go outside. Just breathe, that's good.
Just a couple more times. Remember you're free to leave the room, leave the
building.”
Arms at his side, breathing almost
normal, Lee’s head drooped, exhausted. He took a step back, wanting to break
the hold. This time, Dr. Anderson removed her hands, keeping a close eye on Lee
as he stumbled.
“Chip, why don't you help Lee over to
the loveseat? If he still wants to leave the room, I'll get a wheelchair.” As
Chip guided the subdued Lee to the couch, the doctor pulled the call bell.
Chapter 16
Tucking the hair behind her ears and
straightening her clothes, Eve took a moment to collect herself. Raising a hand
to her face, she touched the spot where Lee’s cast had contacted with her
mouth, and winced. Her arms were also
sore, and there would be bruises there, too. It had all been worth it, to gauge
his reactions.
I
have to be firm with Crane. Give him rules and orders at first. He is used to
responding to this. Show him I'm confident he can easily handle being in
public. Let him figure out there are no voices from the CD here. Once I can
establish a safe harbor we can start on the deprogramming
She did not want to put her silent
thoughts into words just yet, but studying the two people on the loveseat, she
realized the need to explain her actions to the blond man. Based on the looks
he was sending her, he was obviously blaming the doctor for his friend’s
outburst.
Rick soon showed
up with the wheelchair. She instructed
him to leave it, put a hold on lunch, and instead bring
something cold to drink. Chip was now trying to entice Lee to take a sip of the
iced tea with no success. The patient had barely moved since being led to the
sofa. Eyes closed and head resting against the back of the couch, Lee appeared
to be sleeping except his body was too rigidly
held to be napping.
Did
I move too fast? Should I have been gentler? No, after reading Doctor
Jamieson's report on Crane’s behavior from the time of the rescue, I asked the
right questions about his past behavior when injured, especially how he
responded to the aftermath of capture and interrogation. I saw Doctor Walker’s
notes from the prior brainwashing. This man has lived by rules and orders for
his entire adult life. He understands
authority when he sees it, and that’s the way
I’m going to play it.
Chip was quietly talking to Lee, trying
to get a response. He shot her a questioning look and a quick jerk of his head
towards the door. Eve nodded her response.
“Lee, I’ll let you relax for now and
I’ll be back later this afternoon. Remember you
are free to go anywhere on the grounds. The wheelchair is here if you want to
have the grand tour.” Eve spoke to Lee as if nothing had happened, showing no
disapproval or anger towards his earlier behavior. “I can prescribe something to take the edge
off if you want. It’s your choice.”
Lee’s eyes popped open at the mention of
drugs and emphatically shook his head to the question, watching the doctor
closely.
“Fine, I’ll see you at three.” She left
the room and let her high heels echo down the hallway, and then stopped and stood still.
Chip got up and stretched.
“If you’re going to sit there and rest,
I’m going to do a little scouting.” He sat down in the wheelchair and released
the brake. “Maybe I better check it out. Seeing how your Cobra breaks down all
the time, I had better test drive this thing. If you’re okay by yourself, I’ll
take a quick spin.”
His friend waved him off, already having
closed his eyes after Doctor Anderson’s exit.
“I won’t be long,” Chip promised as he wheeled through the door and
spotted the Doctor waiting for him. He joined her, remaining seated but
positioning the chair facing towards the door to be able to see if Lee
appeared.
“You’re upset with me.”
“Look, you’re the psychiatrist. I guess
you know what you’re doing but how is sending Lee into a panic going to help?”
Chip tried to keep his tone respectful but he was upset.
“Dr. Jamieson has given me a very
detailed report of what transpired during the
voyage home. You did a great job helping Lee the five days on Seaview. You were his doctor, friend,
and brother. I know men, especially those in the military, don’t like to show
or talk about emotions. You comforted Lee when he cried; you took him into your
arms as a mother would, chasing away the bogeyman who terrified a young child.
You showed him tenderness, compassion and love. He needed that. Even after he
came out of his catatonic state, he was still suffering from psychological
shock.
“You were Lee’s,” the Doctor’s briefly
stopped to consider her words, “well, I guess you could say you were his security blanket. Now, don’t become embarrassed,
because it’s the truth,” she said, watching the flush appear on Chip’s face.
She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You did
all the right things at the right time. The drugs were still
in his system at a high concentration. Those first few days he was incapable of
having rational thoughts. You saw how he was slowly improving.
“Now it’s my turn to take over, time to
expect more out of him. Lee needs to
know he can control his life. According to the blood work Doctor Kennedy
ordered, the drug’s strength has lessened but it will still be a while until
they are completely out of his system. Until that happens, I need for him to
realize this place is safe and to accept the fact of being here until he
recovers.”
“What about the recording, are you
planning on playing them?”
“Not for a while. I’m plotting on
building up his trust, talking about his past, the Academy, and good times
aboard Seaview. Before you leave, if
you can write down some events that you and others shared with Lee it will be
helpful. They don’t have to be necessarily happy, but times where he was helped
out of a bad situation. I want to start reestablishing the true feelings of the
men surrounding him, and negate the lies on the tapes.”
*****
After promising to give her some
stories, Chip returned to the room. He felt considerable relief upon hearing
the doctor’s plan of attack. Lee was in almost the same position he was when
Chip left except his head was tilted to the
side, sound asleep. Chip carefully repositioned his friend so he was lying down
and then returned to the corridor to use his cell.
“Nelson Institute, Admiral Nelson’s
office.”
“Angie, it’s Chip. Is he in?”
“Oh Chip, how is Lee? The Admiral just
stepped out, but should back in a minute.”
“Well, he hasn’t broken out,” Chip
applied with a chuckle. “I just had a short talk with Doctor Anderson and I
think she has the right approach. That’s why I’m calling the admiral for some
help.”
“Is there anything I can do? You know
everyone here will do anything for Lee.”
“I need pictures. Casual pictures of Lee
and us. Also get hold of Kowalski and Patterson. I know they’ve been involved
in some hairy diving experiences with the skipper. Have them send me an email
about some of them, not the official report, just stories you tell at the bar.”
“Okay, I’ll spread the word for the
pictures. I know I have a couple from last Fourth of July.”
Chip heard her speak to someone who just
entered, then another voice came on the phone.
“Chip, it’s Nelson. How is he doing?”
Chip brought the admiral up to speed on
everything that had occurred since Lee awakened, including the anxiety attack.
Nelson was upset about that but calmed down considerably after Chip explained
the doctor’s theory.
“Okay Chip, I’ll
take your word for it. Will swears by her and she is extremely well thought of
by her peers. Angie is contacting Kowalski right now and I have a couple tales
I can send you about the camping trip Lee and I took last fall. Just keep me
informed. Remember anything Lee needs he’s got.” Chip heard the crack in the voice. He
knew the admiral wished he could do more to help Lee escape the nightmare he was
trapped in.
Chip ended the call with a promise of an
update later in the evening. He was wondering if it was safe to return to his
guest room when Rick showed up to set up the computer. He was quite impressed
when he saw the arrangement. Across the room from Lee’s laptop was a separate
monitor for seeing anything that Lee typed.
This way no one was peering over Lee’s shoulder, crowding him
Leaving the orderly to finish setting
up, Chip went to retrieve his laptop to work on the doctor’s request. Rick was
gone by the time he returned, but had thoughtfully placed a blanket over the
still sleeping Lee and had freshly made the bed. Chip ordered lunch, opened his
laptop and proceeded to type.
It was nearly an hour later when Lee sat
up, pushed off the blanket and then stood up, too quickly. Chip was at his side
in a second to steady him. Lee grinned sheepishly then pulled away from his
friend, settling on his feet. Chip stood close by knowing how much his friend
craved his independence even if it was unwise to do so. Chip wanted to proceed
cautiously remembering what Doctor Anderson has said.
“Now that you’re up, do you want to try
to take a stroll around the campus?”
Lee shook his head glancing around the
room. Chip tried again. “How about a trip up and down the corridor, not much
traffic there.”
Lee headed towards the door, stopping at
the entrance. He looked out both ways
then took a step out and turned. Chip quickly followed but didn’t say anything.
Lee took a couple more steps then did an about face and headed for the laptop.
*****
FREE TO LEAVE
“Yes, Lee, whenever and wherever you
want.”
NOT YET
NOT SAFE
“Trust me, the clinic is a safe place.
You need to decide but that shouldn’t be too long.”
WHO SAID SAFE
Chip voice was firm, “Everyone says so,
including me. You can trust me or not, it’s up to you.”
U CHANGED R U MAD AT ME
“No, Lee, not mad or upset. It’s time
for you to decide on your own.”
R U SURE
“Yes. I'm not mad, disappointed, angry,
freaked or ticked off. But I will be if you keep asking.”
Lee let out an exaggerated sigh and
rolled his eyes before typing, ALL RIGHT I GET IT
Changing tactics a little, Chip inserted
a CD with a visual tour of the campus since he was unable to get Lee to leave
the room. Thankfully, it didn't show the guard or locked security gate.
*****
Promptly arriving at three o’clock, Dr.
Anderson politely asked Chip to leave, asking him to return in two hours. With a grin and a ‘see you later,’ Chip left.
“Where would you like to sit, Lee?”
He left the bed and sat on the love
seat, choosing a position closest to the door. The doctor moved the laptop
within reach of him and then settled down on the desk chair.
“Maybe it's best if I tell you a little
something about my background so you get to know me. I served ten years at
Walter Reed and then Bethesda. The last couple of years I have dealt closely
with PTSD patients and some POW cases. When I left the Army, I was offered a
position here at the clinic. I treat a wide range of patients, including CEOs, politicians and military officers. You know as
well as I do dramatic stress doesn't just come from serving under battle
conditions.”
U GOT OUT Y
Anderson smiled. “I suppose I needed a break plus all of the
government red tape was a pain. I thought of going into private practice but I
like the fit here.” The doctor was ready to move on but added one more thing.
“Anytime you want, you can check my degrees on my office’s walls. Is there
anything you want to tell me about you?”
NO
“Lee, you need to cooperate. Let's try
something simple. How long have you known Chip Morton?”
FIRST DAY AT NA
“He was your roommate at Annapolis?”
YES he paused then added CRAZY
“Mmmm, got into some scrapes together, I
presume.”
Lee didn't need to type the answer, the
big grin on his face told the story.
“Did you serve with him before you
joined NIMR?”
JG HURT TOOK HIS PLACE
“You kept in touch, maybe visiting
during holidays?”
BIG FAMILY
“It's must be nice to share the holidays
with friends and their family. I understand there's only
you and
your mother.”
YES
“What about Admiral Nelson? Isn't your
relationship almost like father and son?”
NO WANT ME GONE DEAD
He moved the pencil so fast over the
keys that it dropped from his fingers. Without comment, Dr. Anderson returned
the pencil to Lee's hand and laid a comforting hand on his arm. She switched
tracks, trying for a happier thought.
“You and Chip made the Academy proud,
graduating first and second. I bet you really celebrated before leaving for
Groton. What was the first boat you were assigned to?”
It took a minute before Lee was composed
enough to comment. Then he replied SSBN GRANT
“Did you make many friends on your first
cruise? Maybe some friends that you
are still in contact with?”
FEW
GOOD CREW
“I'm sure with the tight quarters you
live in, you all become closer on submarines.”
YES
“Do you trust those friends; feel you
can depend on them?”
Lee jumped up, the questioning
apparently not to his liking. To show
his disapproval he turned his back on the doctor, not wanting to continue the
session.
“Sit down.”
When there was no movement, Dr. Anderson
repeated the command, this time using a more authoritative voice. “I said, sit
down!” She kept silent and waited. Lee heard the order in her voice and
reluctantly obeyed, but obstinately refused to look at her or the laptop.
“I realize you can't express yourself
very well right now but getting up and walking away is not acceptable.
Therefore, here's the deal. If a question upsets you or you don't want to
answer, type the word NEXT and I won't push the matter. Okay?”
Do
I have a choice? What will happen if I don't answer any of her questions? Lee shook his
head in disgust. They won't let me out of
here, this prison just has more room to wander about in than Seaview. I'll play
her game, bide my time until I can escape.
TRY
“I'll accept that for now. Our time is
almost up so I'll give you your homework for tomorrow.”
HOMEWORK
“You didn't think I was going to do all
the hard stuff? Now I want you to think of two crewmates you trust from any
boats previously served on, and why. Chip doesn't count. We'll discuss it
during tomorrow’s session. I also want you to take five steps up or down the
corridor and then return to your room. Try to do it without
Chip at your side. Remember, I expect you eating in the dining room by week’s
end. You are capable of doing this.” Eve challenged Lee. “How do you intend to
escape if you don't even have the courage to leave your room?”
ASK JAMIESON HOW I AM AT
ESCAPING
“Very funny. I’ll see you in the morning, Commander.”
*****
"Good morning gentlemen, I hope you
had a nice breakfast."
Chip raised his mug in response. "Yes, thank you. We were just enjoying a
second cup of coffee.”
The doctor rested a hand on the back of
his chair while smiling reassuredly at Lee.
"Chip, why don't you take a trip into town or something? Lee's going
to be busy until around noon."
Dr. Anderson had looked through her
notes prior to the 9 AM session. Rick had reported
Lee accomplished four steps on his own. The first one out of the room was
hesitant, but the others were confident, if rapid, full stride and then a sharp
about-face with an even quicker return.
The orderly had set up the reversible
whiteboard in her office and hopefully she would be able to use it in the
afternoon session. Thanks to Chip's quick work, there were already some items to
display. He promised to be able to get more after she talked with Lee.
How much resistance would Lee put up
this morning? His comments at the end of
the previous day’s session had been feisty, even a little belligerent. It was a good start.
Lee’s face had fallen when Chip left the
room, and she hastened to add, "Don't worry, he’ll be back to have lunch
with you. In the meantime, when our time
is up, Dr. Kennedy will be stopping by to check the bandages on your feet. I’ve also set up an appointment with a
physical therapist to show you a few exercises you can do that will not strain
your injuries."
Lee didn’t look convinced. "If it makes you feel more secure, Rick
can stay with you. Would that be better?"
Lee was already at the laptop, and he
quickly typed, THANKS
"I'm encouraged by how well you
have accepted Rick's helping you. I'm trying to encourage him to become a PA.
Maybe during your stay here you can encourage him. From what I've read in your
file, you know a lot about medical procedures." The laughter in her eyes
softened her tone.
WILL TALK TO HIM
"Good, now I have the report from
the nurse that you had a restless night and were troubled by a nightmare. Why
don't you tell me about it?"
NO
With a slight shake of her head, she
rebuked him. "We had this discussion yesterday. I realize it's difficult
for you to explore your feelings but I can't help you if you don't talk to me.
You know everything you say is confidential and won't go any further."
With little enthusiasm Lee typed, WAS A
KID
Dr. Anderson tapped her notebook. So -- the dream had nothing to do with
whatever had happened in Germany. Or was
it just a way to keep him from reliving that nightmare?
"The dream was about your
childhood. Did something frightening happen?”
MY FATHER
The doctor waited, letting Lee continue
at his own pace.
DISAPPOINTED IN ME
Lee looked at the doctor as if expecting
her to say something, but met only silence. He reluctantly elaborated.
PUNISHED ME
When he made no move to continue, the doctor
asked her questions in a non-judgmental manner.
"Did he hurt you in your
nightmare?"
YES
BURNED ME
"Do you have many bad dreams from
your childhood?"
NOT IN SOME TIME
"In your nightmare your father
hurts you, was he abusive to you as you grew up?"
HIT ME
"I see. Was it normal for him to
burn you?"
NO
HIT PUNCH
This could mean that part of his torture
involved burning, yet there was certainly no evidence of that on his body. That was something that needed an
explanation. As she paused to consider
the next question, Lee quickly wrote NEXT.
She would leave this for now. After taking a sip of her coffee she asked,
"How did your homework go? Were you able to come up with the two crewmen
you still trust?"
TOM FRANKLIN CPO ON THE GRANT
"You told me yesterday, that was
your first boat. I've heard stories about chiefs keeping bull ensigns in line.
Is he still serving?"
COB ON THE JULES VERNE RETIRE SOON
"You must think very highly of him,
I'm glad you chose him. Who else?"
BOB STARR ON THE NAUTILUS
"Your second sea duty, I
believe."
SAVED MY LIFE
There was a relaxed sense about Lee now,
as he recalled enjoyable events from his early time at sea.
"So now we have two people you feel
you can rely on. Why do you think that is?"
DON'T KNOW JUST DO
"Have you ever heard them say
anything to make you feel uneasy, unsafe around them?"
Lee's face froze.
She decided to press a bit. “So, there were many good times with Tom and
Bob. And from what Chip has told me,
you’ve got many pleasant memories from times with your crew. Don’t you believe that anymore?”
Fear appeared on Lee’s face, completely
erasing the relaxed emotions he’d displayed a few moments earlier. He clutched at his stomach, rubbing it as if
he was in pain.
I
can't go back to that
prison room where the voices are. I'll be
okay if I can stay away from that room.
His hand started to tremble, and it was
apparent he was having trouble typing out his answer.
"Lee, did you hear me? Why do you
not trust the men on Seaview?"
It
is too dangerous to discuss. I must stop her or pain will start up again.
Clinching his jaw, Lee got his hand to
obey and typed, NEXT
Realizing he was in a greatly agitated
state, Anderson made some notes while permitting her patient to compose
himself. "I won't press you but we will return to this later. It will be
easier once you are speaking again. For now, let us discuss the other part of
your assignment. I'm very pleased and encouraged you completed it without your
crutch. That's good. Chip will be gone by tomorrow morning. It's time for you
to fly solo."
NOT READY
"I think you are. Chip needs to get
back to work. He will return for dinner
and spend a couple hours visiting. It won't be cold turkey.”
I WILL TRY
She didn’t give him a chance to think about
the consequences of that. “Splendid. For
your next assignment, I want you to leave this room, turn left and walk to the
fire door. You will pass two rooms. The one on the left is vacant and the one
on the right is Dr. Carter’s room but don't worry, she'll be immersed in her
research and won’t notice you."
BY MYSELF
"Yes, all by your lonesome. You’re
up for it. There’s nothing to fear, no
one will be around except one 70-year-old woman and I think you can take
her," she joked, wanting to diminish his anxiety.
He gave her a pathetic smile in return.
They continue to talk casually about unimportant things until their time was
over. Lee stood as Dr. Anderson left. She couldn't hide her surprise and
delight, first, at his remembering the courtesy and second, that he was capable
of simple, uncomplicated acts.
*****
Rick showed up soon afterwards with Dr.
Kennedy. After a quick exam, he discussed Lee's progress and restrictions,
indicating he should not stand or walk for any length of time until the sores
were completely healed. The physical therapist arrived next, showing Lee and
Rick exercises that would not aggravate the ribs. He left a schedule, cautioning Lee not to
overdo.
"Is there anything I can do for
you, sir? Mr. Morton's not due for another thirty minutes."
Taking Dr. Anderson's encouragement to
heart, he made up his mind. STAY BY
DOORWAY
"Aye, aye, sir! After you,
sir!" Rick grinned as he motioned with his arm towards the door.
SMART ALECK
He faltered at the opening. After taking
a deep breath and putting one foot out the door, Lee turned left as ordered.
Walking down the hallway at a normal pace, he touched the fire door with his
hand as proof to himself of the goal. Executing a smart turn Lee started back,
uncertain when he came abreast of Dr. Carter's room. Nothing has happened so far so go for it, Lee. Leaning towards the
entrance, he experienced his first view of his neighbor. The room was vastly different from his. A long banquet table took the place of the
love seat, and the room’s occupant was too engrossed in the four computers on
top to pay him any attention. A couple
more confident steps and he was safely home.
"Congrats sir, knew you could do
it. Are you ready for another go?"
MAYBE LATER
After Rick left, Lee wandered around his
room for a couple minutes thinking. Finally, shrugging his shoulders, he
stepped into the hallway and stood there looking up and down but nobody was
around to pay him any attention. He leaned against the door jam, waiting with a
satisfying smirk on his face.
*****
Chip glanced at his watch as he grabbed
his laptop out of the car. He wasn't due back for half an hour but he was
anxious to get back to Lee. Dr. Anderson had called immediately after the
session with the two names which he passed on to Angie. She, in turn, would
send pictures and any information she obtained to the doctor. Told he would be
leaving late tonight or early morning he had questioned the doctor’s plan and
worried about Lee's reaction, questioning whether she was pushing Lee too
fast. She had not seen him, curled up
and not responding to anything.
Chip hurried his steps only to stop
short at the sight of his smiling friend relaxing in the hallway.
"Lee! What in the world?"
Holding up a hand, Lee gave a devilish
grin as he strolled down the corridor, once more tapping the security door and
making his way back to his astonished looking friend. He ended his performance
by taking an exaggerated swipe with his hand across his forehead.
Maybe
I've misjudged the doctor. She warned me I was letting my concern for Lee get
in the way of his recovery. Okay Morton, she's a doc, you need to follow her
lead.
“Fantastic job! Next stop, the dining
room.”
They reentered Lee's room where he went
to his laptop. SOON NOT YET
“I'll give you a couple more days, but
that's it. Now, you want a progress report on the sub or are you going to show
off some more?”
For an answer, Lee sat on the loveseat
and crossed his legs, giving his complete attention to his executive officer.
*****
The afternoon meeting between Dr.
Anderson and her patient got off to a good start but went downhill fast. The
doctor had wheeled in the whiteboard with pictures of Seaview, Chip, Tom and Bob. Lee enjoyed “talking” about them, even
swore when he read Chip's account of their embarrassing trip last winter.
However, when she attempted to bring up the time Kowalski saved Lee's life
during a dive, he shut her down, refusing to hear about it or look at Ski’s
picture placed on the board. He even went as far as to make a clumsy attempt
removing it, in the process, knocking off most of the other items.
This was unacceptable. She seized Lee by the upper arms and
commanded, “Commander Crane, stop that this instant. I will not tolerate temper
tantrums. Now sit down and act like a naval officer!”
Shocked, Lee dropped onto the couch.
Dr. Anderson straightened the board and
placed Ski’s photo and short story on the reverse side, temporarily out of
view. “If you can't discuss your current
crew in a civilized manner we will talk about someone else you have confidence
in." She had spoken in an authoritative tone, never raising the volume of
her voice; now she softened it a degree. "I noticed both of your first
choices were from early in your career. Is there someone more recent? Not all
of your time has been at sea, how about a name from your shore duty?”
As Lee settled down, he thought over the
request. BRUCE MADISON IN ADM POLK’S OFFICE
“What did he do so special that you
trust him over other people? Did he save your life like Bob Starr?”
I DISCOVERED CRIME BACKED ME
RISK CAREER
“I see. Madison had integrity, someone
you would give your loyal to in return.”
YES
Dr. Anderson pulled a photo from her
notebook and laid it down on the table in front of Lee. It was a picture of approximately 20 sailors
standing alongside Seaview.
“But these men, who have served with you
for more than two years; not a single one of them is worth your respect and
allegiance?”
I CAN'T TALK ABOUT THEM
“Why not? What have they done?”
PLEASE DON'T
Lee tightly shut his eyes, unable to
bear to look at the photo of people he had once thought of as family.
*****
Dr. Anderson returned it to her file and
intensely studied her patient. He's terrified they want him dead but why, what
caused the radical change? This was
obviously the key to everything. In
time, he would tell her the reason. It
was best not to push the matter, keeping him calm and approachable was more
important. Perhaps another angle,
another nudge towards socializing was in order. Lee had been handling
one-on-one situations with the professionals but it was time to get him with
another patient, and she had just the one.
“Lee, do you like hot chocolate?”
Still a little withdrawn, he just nodded
his head.
"I think it's time for you to meet
your neighbor. She always has a cup about now. I'll call and add our order to
hers, and then I'll walk over with you.”
After the call to the kitchen, the two
made their way across the hallway.
“Hello K.C., is it all right if we
intrude?”
The older woman smiled and looked up
from the screen she’d been studying.
“Of course, Eve, any time. Let me guess,
you've already phoned in your request to the kitchen.”
She looked briefly at Lee then returned
to her laptops. Satisfied there were no new messages, she turned back to her
company.
The 70-year-old was petite, barely over
five feet. Her long and thick silver
hair was pulled back and held in place with a seashell-shaped hair clip at the
nape of her neck. Her open smile reached her amazing violet colored eyes.
“Are you going to tell me who this
handsome young man is, Eve?”
“If I can have your undivided attention
for five minutes, K. C.”
With a quick check of her computers, she
faced her visitors.
“Five minutes is pushing, but I'll try.
Now, introduce me.”
With great formality Dr. Anderson
proceeded. “Dr. Carter, let me introduce Commander Lee Crane, captain of the
submarine Seaview. Commander, this
demanding lady is Dr. Katharina Carter, winner of this year’s Nobel Prize plus
numerous other distinguished awards.”
“Pieces of paper, but helpful at raising
money," the scientist modestly protested. "My friends call me K.C.
May I call you Lee?”
At the mention of her full name, Lee's
eyes widened. He awkwardly shook her hand with both of his.
“I think he knows your reputation,” the
younger doctor lightheartedly commented. Lee enthusiastically nodded.
“I'm flattered, but serving on Seaview with Nelson, I'm not surprised
you recognize the name. Our interests overlap at times. Have a seat, I'm afraid
one of you will have to make use of the bed.
I needed all the space I could get for my computers.” Dr. Carter cast an
eye at her e-mail program once again, then apologized to her doctor. “Sorry, I
only made it for three and a half minutes.” Looking at Lee she commented,
“You're a very quiet man.”
“Lee is having a little problem with his
voice right now, but we expect that will change very shortly, don't we, Lee?”
Dr. Anderson couldn't help the little mental push. “The two of us have been
using a keyboard to communicate for now.”
Dr. Carter nodded and smiled. “Don't worry Lee, Dr. Anderson is an
excellent psychiatrist. She usually has me back to work in two or three weeks
when my OCD flares up. Oh good, here are our drinks. Thank you, Rick,” she
addressed the orderly as she accepted her warm drink.
Lee sat with great
attention as Dr. Carter spoke of her latest research. Perhaps the presence
of the Seaview‘s captain spurred her to explain about her work with a
special species of coral and her belief it would help in the fight
against bone cancer.
"In fact, I hope
Nelson will read the study as he had done experiments with the same class of
coral. I would appreciate his feedback on my research."
Lee picked up his cup and took a sip of
the now tepid liquid. He looked forward
to the next visit.
Chapter 17
Later that night Dr. Anderson wrote in
Lee's file detailing the breakthrough he had accomplished. She was very
encouraged when informed about the second trip down the hallway. Lee's reaction
to Dr. Carter was much better than expected. He had not reacted at all when
Nelson name had been mentioned. The doctor planned to drop a name or two into
the conversation tomorrow to see what effect it had on her patient.
The most frustrating part of the session
had been when Lee seemed on the verge of revealing something, and then he would
demand they stop. Knowing the risk of losing what little trust Lee had in her,
she hadn’t pressed the point. That would come when he regained his voice. She needed to push forward but not too
aggressively when he wanted to dodge something painful.
Having a double handicap of loss of
speech and almost useless hands was making their sessions difficult. Often, a
manner of speech or a slight inflection of tone would reveal more than the
actual spoken words. Now she was relying on facial expression and body
language. Regrettably, as a naval officer and trained ONI operative, Lee was
accomplished at controlling both. Even in his distressed state, he was
amazingly able to exhibit that control most of the time. It was only when
approaching a critical point the facade cracked, but damn the man, he would
use their deal of NEXT, forcing the doctor to change the subject.
Dr. Anderson was a long way from finding
out what actually happened in Germany, but the patient seemed to be slowly
responding to the therapy. His acceptance of Dr. Carter without fear proved she
was progressing in the right way. With a little push from K.C., Lee should be
making his debut appearance in the dining room within the next 48 hours.
The doctor stood up and stretched her
tired body. A glance at the clock revealed it was almost Midnight. It was too late to drive home, and one of her
newly admitted patients was at a critical stage, so she took advantage of one
of the clinic’s guest rooms. Resisting
the urge to check in on Lee, she consulted with the night nurse for one last
update on the new patient. Thankfully, all was calm and the doctor gratefully
went to bed.
*****
Breakfast the next morning was a lonely
time for Lee. He had grown used to Chip's constant presence by his side. As he
chewed on a piece of raisin cinnamon toast, he realized for the first time,
other than when he was sleeping, he was being left alone for a considerable
period. Taking advantage of the solitude, Lee attempted a bit of
self-analyzing.
First, he didn't want to be here, or any
hospital, but that was to be expected. The sooner he could affect his escape,
the better.
Second, he hated being dependent upon
others to wash, dress and at times, feed him. Again, that was a normal feeling.
He was a grown man, but as much as he despised it, the help was necessary until
the casts came off. For another four weeks, he would have to endure that
indignity.
Third, and this is where he started to
worry, was his inability at first to let Chip out of sight. Even now, after
repeatedly being told the clinic was safe and secure, he craved his friend’s
presence for protection. In the past, even as a young man, Lee was able to
stand up and face whatever terror was thrown at him. Now he was afraid of
everything. Lee was repeatedly told this was from the drugs in his system, but
what if he was being lied to? Dr. Carter was the first person he had met
without Chip first scrutinizing her. How could he go through life needing to
hold Chip’s hand like a little child? Maybe he was damaged beyond repair.
The fourth and final was Lee evaluating
life after Seaview. He accepted the
fact the crew hated and wanted to kill him. He might never find the reason for
the animosity, although he’d be safe if he stayed out of their gun sights. But
how many unknown enemies were there lurking around, how could he guard against
that? The thought of losing his gray lady
was devastating; however, to remain aboard would surely cost him his life.
He stood looking out of his window
surveying the lawn. Close by was a tall tree with a sturdy branch which brought
a flash of happy memories of the tree swing on his grandparents’ farm. That
image changed to the rope swing over the pond that he had played with each
summer he visited. Suddenly the scene morphed to a hanging noose. He jerked and
stumbled backwards.
Where
the hell did that come from?
Shaking, Lee looked around his hospital
room for any signs of danger. Finding none, he gave an embarrassed laugh trying
to reassure himself. My imagination is
working overtime. I have to relax. Dr. Anderson is due any minute. It wouldn't
do to look upset. Lee took a deep calming breath and sat down at the desk
to wait for his doctor.
"Good morning, Lee."
At the sound of Dr. Anderson's voice,
Lee stood up to greet her, turning the chair to face the loveseat for her with
a fake smile on his lips.
"I see Rick has set up the laptop,
so let's start."
The doctor glanced at the updated board,
now exhibiting Madison’s photo. On the backside she had posted the group photo
Lee had reacted to doing last session plus the picture of Kowalski. He followed
her eyes towards the whiteboard, wondering where she was heading during the
morning meeting.
"I was admiring the group of men
you call friends."
NOT TOO BAD LOOKING
"From what I've read about each,
you all do the uniform proud."
THANKS
"How did you do this morning
without Chip? Your progress has been excellent so far, we don't want you to
backslide."
LITTLE SHAKY AT FIRST
"It will become easier. Think of it
like the first time you went off to school. You made it through and your mom
was waiting for you at home."
DINNER WITH CHIP
"That’s right. As you grow
stronger. You will depend less and less upon him," the doctor encouraged.
DON'T FEEL RIGHT
"Blame it on the drugs and Decker.
He's messed with your mind, making you question yourself. Until you can tell me
for sure what happened during your captivity I'm making an educated guess. The
chemical properties of the drugs in your blood and your behavior has led me to
surmise some of what he was trying," Dr. Anderson patiently explained.
Lee started to fidget, ready to reach
towards the keyboard when the doctor stopped him.
"Don't worry, I'm not pressing you
about Decker. In all probability, you're not even aware of everything he did to
you. It's locked away deep in your subconscious. We'll get it out in the open,
but it will take time and hard work on your part.
"But now, let's focus our attention
on you socializing and speaking. I want you to be honest in your answers. There
is no wrong or right, no one is judging. All right?
GIVE IT MY BEST
"It’s all I am asking of you. Now,
since Chip is only visiting in the evenings do you still feel secure enough to
take a walk in the corridor?"
Lee thought for a moment, almost like
testing the air.
YES
"Okay to pay a visit to K.
C.?"
YES
"Splendid, how about to the
reception area? It's about double the distance you did yesterday. There'll be a
few people about, maybe a patient or two and employees."
He pondered the situation. Lee wanted to
say yes, but something held him back, some unreasonable fear.
NOT SURE
"Mmmm, what if someone accompanied
you?"
RICK
"If he is the one that makes you
feel the most comfortable, the most secure, that’s fine."
Lee nodded then typed RIGHT BACK TO ROOM
"Just like the trip to the fire
door. Try to smile if you meet someone. I promise, they won't bite."
TRY AFTER LUNCH
"I'll hold you to that. If you
start to tense up, go somewhere you feel happy and safe. I strongly believe
this will be a big step forward when you start to mingle."
Not really warming to the idea, Lee
simply jerked his head up and down.
"I understand you're not ready to
relate to me everything that happened in Germany. However, I do need to know
some things right now.”
With trepidation, Lee looked at the
doctor, waiting.
"Can you remember most of your time
with Decker, meaning you were not experiencing periods of blackouts?"
I REMEMBER
Dr. Anderson mentally crossed her
fingers. He had actually answered a question about Decker. Now she needed to
pull out a little more information.
"One last question, then we'll
change the subject. Answer me if you're able. You pantomimed to Chip you lost
your voice screaming. Why caused you to do that? Were you experiencing severe
pain? Were you in terrible danger? Perhaps Decker was threatening you with a
terrifying means of death. Alternatively, perhaps it was something very
different. If you can tell me, even a little bit, what happened we can work on
the reason your psyche is telling you to stop speaking."
Lee stared at Dr. Anderson, not really
seeing her. He didn't want to talk about this.
Decker
said I must believe him, not to pay any attention if someone tries to tell me anything
different. But she wants to know what happened that last day, those last few
hours. It would prove Decker was correct -- the crew wanted to kill me.
Lee was struggling within himself. He
needed to obey Decker’s orders, not to do so would bring unbearable pain again.
However, was the doctor asking him to disregard Decker? Could he take a chance?
He was tapping the table, his eyes darting around the room as if the German
would appear and give him the answer to his predicament.
*****
Dr. Anderson watched her patient closely
studying his body language. Perhaps she was demanding too much, too fast. She
continued to sit quietly while the internal struggle was going on. The doctor
was hesitant to say another word, afraid if she did, it would increase whatever
torment Lee was experiencing. So far, he had not said no or NEXT; he had not
dismissed the question. By the look on his face, it was obvious Lee was in
distress. Without more information, she was handicapped to help in his
recovery. However, it was obvious he was growing more agitated. They would
revisit the question again in a couple days. Urging him to relive something so
painful when he wasn't ready could cause a psychotic break.
"Lee, look at me, that's right,
just let it go. You can relax, we'll discuss this much later. Listen to my
voice. You're in your room, safe from harm. Sit back, close your eyes and take
a deep breath."
She could see he had finally heard. His
eyes lost the haunted look as he leaned back against the couch. His hands now
lay still on his lap as he closed his eyes.
"That's good." Lee's chest
visibly rose and fell. "Just you and me in your room. No one else is
around."
She would spend the remainder of the
session reassuring her patient, trying to get him to concentrate on less
stressful times; perhaps a story or two that Chip had told her.
"Feeling better?"
He nodded, appearing not to have the
strength to open his eyes quite yet. Just then, Dr. Anderson's phone vibrated.
Cursing the interruption, she pulled the cell off her waist and then let out a
soft "damn." The screen read “911 room 214 west.” That was the new
patient’s room.
"Lee, I have an emergency page.
Will you be all right alone?"
Looking out half opened eyes he nodded,
this time with a little more energy.
"You need me to send someone to
stay with you?" After a shake of his head she left, but not before a
squeeze to his shoulder and a quiet "we'll work through this, I
promise."
As the doctor made her way from the
south to the west wing, she felt uneasy leaving her patient unsupervised after
the unsettling session. Using her cell, she punched the extension for the south
nursing station and requested that Dr. Harrison check in on Lee. That taken
care of, she shifted her thoughts to her other patient.
*****
Lee remained seated on the couch after
Dr. Anderson left. Reaching forward, he slammed the laptop lid down. That damn thing is useless. How can I
explain what's going on in my head? He
was becoming agitated again, but this time it was from anger.
Lee remembered his life and all the
dangerous times in ONI, and on Seaview.
He had no trouble making decisions or fighting off the enemy. Why was he so
immobilized by fear now? He was ashamed of his behavior. The four photographs
on the board seem to be looking at him, judging him, asking him, what kind of
officer was he? The great Lee Crane was a fraud, nothing but a coward. Lee
paced fiercely back-and-forth growing more and more upset.
No,
it's not my fault. I'm trying to understand what happened to me. Chip, please help
me.
Lee turned his back on the board and
walked towards the window, but it didn't help. He could almost hear their
voices laughing at him. He spun around. Those faces were mocking him,
condemning him.
Stop
it, stop it, STOP IT!
With three rapid steps, Lee reached the
whiteboard and lashed out at it, striking the metal frame on the side, causing
the stand to spin around. There was a shooting pain in his hand. The face of a
burly man stroking his luxurious mustache, smirking as he surveyed his footwork
as Lee lay on the earthen floor withering in pain, flashed into Lee's head.
Frederick! Frederick was here!
Lee held the throbbing arm to his chest,
looking straight ahead, trying to clear his head of those disturbing images.
His eyes locked on Kowalski, Patterson and 18 other men in the photo, staring
at him, men who had sworn to kill him. Lee repeatedly shook his head, his whole
body trembling.
There was a knock on the door and Dr.
Harrison walked in.
"Mr. Crane, Dr. Anderson
asked--"
That was as far as the man got. All Lee
perceived was a large man with a mustache coming towards him, wanting to hurt
him. With all his might, Lee pushed the stand at the doctor, causing him to
stumble slightly and sending the board crashing into the end table. Lee looked
around for an escape route. Dr. Harrison was blocking the only way out.
Staggering backwards, Lee darted into the bathroom, heaving his body against
the door, hoping to stop his enemies from entering. Wildly he searched for some
way to protect myself.
Rick was in the corridor after leaving
Dr. Carter when he heard the noise from Lee's room. Standing in the doorway, he
saw Dr. Harrison kick the fallen white board away and call out to Lee as he
walked towards the closed door.
"Mr. Crane, please come out. I'm
Dr. Harrison. Dr. Anderson asked me to look in on you,” the muscular doctor
tried to explain through the door. "I'm just here to talk to you. There is
nothing to be afraid of."
Rick entered the room, stood up the
board and joined the doctor. "Commander, it's Rick. Everything is okay,
sir. Dr. Harrison isn't as good-looking as Dr. Anderson, but he's an okay guy.
Why don't you come out, sir? I'll stay with you if you wish."
Their pleas were met with silence.
"Come on, sir. I promise everything
is all right. No one will hurt you." Nothing. Rick rapidly filled in Dr.
Harrison on what he knew about Lee's condition.
"He's not suicidal?"
"No, sir. Maybe a little paranoid
at times. He can't talk, he's suffering from aphonia.”
"Do you know if he taking
anything?"
"Only some antibiotics."
The doctor tugged on one side of his
thick mustache, pondering the situation. "Good. Let’s get some help in here. Since he knows you, follow right behind me.
I'll try and calm him down. If I fail, you try. I don't want to drag him out or
sedate him if it can be helped."
When the male nurse showed up, all three
pushed at the door. All the while, the doctor talked, trying to reach out to
Lee. Even with all three pushing, it was a few minutes before they got the door
completely opened. As they worked, it opened a crack and then suddenly, there
was no more resistance. They were in. Still speaking in a reassuring tone, the
doctor slowly advanced followed by Rick and then the nurse. Lee's back pressed
tightly against the opposite wall; his face was a mask of terror as he saw the
doctor. Lee's mouth moved, but only a sound like a wounded animal came out.
Your
crewmates will soon be here... Can't you hear them coming? It's time for us to
leave you to your fate. May your God have mercy on you, I'm sure your ‘friends’
won’t.
My
hands... I won’t be able to fight them. You know what they plan to do to me,
you can’t leave me behind!
Lee fell on his knees, hysterical with
fear. Sounds of angry voices engulfed him ... Lee scrambled to hide, pulling
his knees up to his chest, screaming at Decker to save him. Kowalski's voice crowded into his head.
Come
on man, this is the place. Break down the doors if we have to, but get
Crane! I want to put a rope around his
neck and lynch him from the tree out here. Why bother dragging that sorry piece
of crap back to the boat?
I
can't let Frederick get to me - who knows what he'll do this time.
As the men reached him, Lee's eyes
rolled back into his head and his body slid down the wall.
Chapter 18
Back in Santa Barbara, Admiral Nelson
was sitting behind his desk eagerly awaiting his returned executive officer.
Chip had reported sometime after 2200, too late for a social call. There had
been calls and e-mails but he was anxious for a face-to-face sit down. His
intercom sounded.
“Sorry to interrupt you, sir. Admiral
Fox from the Pentagon is on Line 2 for you, sir.”
“All right Angie, put him through. When
Mr. Morton shows up, send him right in and then hold all my calls unless it's
the White House.”
“Yes, sir. I just made a fresh pot of
coffee. I'll bring in.”
“Thank you and grab me another blueberry
muffin while you're at it.”
He waited a minute or two and then
picked up the phone. He enjoyed making the other man wait. “Nelson.”
“Harry, nice to hear your voice. How you
been?”
It was never a good sign when Anthony
Fox exchanged pleasantries. He was notoriously known for his abruptness.
“Enjoying my third cup of the morning
while waiting for my next appointment. What can I do for my old friend?”
Nelson could almost see Fox gripping the
phone receiver, old friend they were not, closer to enemies would be the truth.
The man still held a grudge that Nelson received his fourth star before he had.
Fox always claimed it was because of politics and money that Nelson received
faster promotions. It never occurred to him that it was the two B's, booze and
broads, which slowed his advancement.
Admiral Fox was aptly named, with a long
nose and reddish brown eyebrows over a set of almost black eyes. Small in
stature, he had just made the height requirement. An overly hirsute body did nothing to help
his career or install confidence in his superiors. There were still jokes going
around that he used to shave his hands while a junior officer.
There was a light tap on the door. Expecting to see Angie, Nelson was pleasantly
surprised when Chip entered with a pot of coffee and a platter of baked
goods. Nelson motioned to a seat across
from his desk then rolled his eyes.
“Tony, my appointment is here. Can you
come to the point of your call?”
“It’s simple, Nelson. Time to get yourself a new captain.
Scuttlebutt says Crane cracked up and you got him locked away in a nut
house. You're already pushed back our
joint project a month, we can't afford any more delays.”
Nelson had made the mistake of putting
the call on Speaker when Chip showed up, and now he regretted it. The younger
man was on his feet, face flushed ready to reach through the phone to strangle
the caller.
Forcing
his voice to a level tone, Nelson said, “Commander Crane was seriously injured
in the performance of his duty. He is currently receiving top-notch treatment
in a medical facility. It was because of his assignment that the testing of the
new equipment was postponed. In less than ten days we will start Phase Two. But
not until I am satisfied with the training and performance of the upgrades. I
won't put my men and boat at risk unnecessarily. It has already caused a
computer problem that the tech reps sent out from Beatty Electronics have
struggled with.” Admiral Nelson's voice turned to cold steel. “Commander Morton
is quite qualified to captain Seaview until Crane recovers. There is no
question of permanent replacement.” Chip
slowly sat down. “Now if you’ll excuse
me, Morton and I need to figure out where the manufacturer fouled up, so we can
complete the project. Goodbye.” He punched the ‘off’ button, resisting the urge
to toss the phone across the room.
“That's
one thing I hate about speaker or cell phones, you can't slam down the receiver
in a jackass’s ear.” Nelson bit into his muffin as if to take a hunk of Fox's
skin. “You shouldn’t let Admiral Fox
upset you like that, Chip. Look how calm
I am.”
Chip
laughed and took a sip of his coffee. Nelson finished his pastry and tossed the
liner and crumbs into the trashcan. He refilled his cup and sat back in his
chair, his coloring back to normal.
“How
is Lee? Was he upset you left last night?”
Chip
carefully thought before answering. “I would categorize it as nervous, not
upset. Lee accepted I can't stay, and he has to. He understands the need for
therapy to help him with his behavior.”
“So
he realizes the CDs were faked, that none of us said those things?” Nelson
responded in a hopeful tone.
“No,
sir. Let me try to explain as much as I comprehend from Lee's typing. He
doesn't understand why he is so frightened and unable to control his terror,
nor why he can't speak. We both know all too well what Seaview has
experienced with abnormal events. We also can only imagine what Lee endured on
ONI excursions. Not one of us will denied being scared. We carry on through the
dangers, and don't let them immobilize us. Sir, it was heartbreaking to see him
shaking just to step out into the hallway. Finally, before I left, he managed
to walk 50 feet and returned to his room. He was so proud to be able to
accomplish that slight task.”
“But
he's getting on, improving?”
“Yes.
Dr. Anderson is very encouraging. Lee has accepted his fear is unreasonable but
that doesn't mean he's been able to overcome it. Unfortunately, there is no
shaking his belief that the Seaview crew hates him and wants him dead.
I'm sure Jamie has given you updates. Anderson feels sure she can get through
to him.”
Chip
took a deep breath before relating what the doctor had talked to him about last
night. The admiral looked so anxious for
good news he was afraid of what this might do to him.
“Admiral,
before I left, Dr. Anderson talked me for quite a while. She is confident Lee
will recover. However, it might take a long time.”
“That's
great, Chip. I knew nothing could stop Lee.”
“Sir,
he should recover enough to lead a normal life, but to return to Seaview
and the pressure of command, that is very much an unknown.”
He
stopped speaking. Nelson had lost some of his color and his hand shook when he
raised the cup to his lips. Chip had experienced the same reaction at Dr.
Anderson's assessment. What would Lee’s life be like without his submarine? It
was a natural occurrence in military life to be reassigned, to have command of
different ships, but Lee had a special connection with Seaview.
Moreover, given the circumstances, he would be medically retired, unable to
command even a rowboat in anyone’s navy.
“Chip,
if that is the case, we have to make sure Lee understands he will always have a
position at NIMR,” Nelson was quick to point out.
“I
know that, Admiral, even without you having to say the words. You, most of all,
would never abandon Lee. Nevertheless, it brings up what Admiral Fox pointed
out.” He paused, hating to say the
words. “Seaview might need a new
skipper. I hate to say it, but perhaps
you should start a search for a replacement -- even if only, please God, a
temporary one. Who knows how long it could be before Lee can return. If ever.” His voice cracked with emotion,
saying the unthinkable.
Admiral
Nelson stood and took his jacket from the back of his chair. After finishing
buttoning it, he faced the now standing and slightly confused XO. In the tone of voice Nelson used when
an unswayable decision was being made, the admiral spoke clear and sharp.
“There
will be no search for replacement.”
“Sir,
with all respect…”
“Mr.
Morton, listen to me very carefully,” Nelson repeated, his voice now a little
louder. “There will be no search.”
“As
you wish, sir.”
Nelson
moved around the desk and placed a hand on Chip’s shoulder, speaking not to the
subordinate but to a comrade in arms.
“There'll
be no search because if it comes to that, I've got a captain standing in front
of me.”
CHAPTER 19
The first thing Lee became aware of was
several voices talking in a soft tone. Why was he in bed with these people
hovering around? By the way the sun was shining through the window, it had to
be around one o'clock or so. What happened to the morning? Last thing he
membered was Dr. Anderson asking how he was handling Chip being gone. The rest
was a blank, except for a feeling of being in danger. Trying not to draw
attention to himself, Lee slowly moved his arms to reassure himself he was not
being restrained. Whatever happened, he had not become violent. He was able to
move his limbs freely. The room quieted as Dr. Anderson moved closer and stood
over Lee.
Welcome back, Lee. Do you know where you
are?” At the nodding of his head, she continued. “You gave us a bit of a scare,
passing out on us.”
He blacked out? Lee looked at her in
total confusion. He was still groggy, not sure what had happened but relatively
calm since Dr. Anderson was there with him.
“Maybe I should leave?” Dr. Harrison offered.
“I just stopped by to see how Mr. Crane was,”
Lee's eyes automatically want to the
speaker. Things was still hazy but he knew that face, that habit of stroking
the mustache. Lee now had a look of terror in his eyes. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as
his sole focus was now on Dr. Harrison. He drew back from his doctor. Why had
she allowed Frederick near him? Didn't she know what that man had done to him?
Lee tried to pull both his hands behind his back; no way was that sadist
stomping on them again.
“Calm down, Lee.” Dr. Anderson quickly
gave Rick an order to bring the laptop and pencil. “Everything is all right.
You're safe.”
Lee continued to keep his entire
attention on the stranger, not daring to release him from his sight. Dr.
Anderson continues her gentle assault on Lee. “Why are you frightened by Dr.
Harrison?"
The only response by Lee was pulling his
legs away, moving as far away as possible in the confining bed.
“You can have all the room you need to
feel safe, Lee.” The orderly was by her side with the computer. “Okay for Rick
to put this on the bed next to you?”
No one made a move waiting for his
answer. Lee sucked on his bottom lip, surveying the room, and in particular,
one of its occupants. His mind cleared, the remainder of the flashback
vanished, and he realized where he truly was. The man Harrison, as Dr. Anderson
had called him, wasn't Frederick. He
needed to make sure.
Inching along in several hesitant moves,
he finally got out of bed. Upon standing, he swayed for a moment, and then
found his sea legs. With slow cautious steps, he walked to Dr. Harrison until
he stood face-to-face with the other man. He brought up his encased hand and
placed it on the doctor’s face, turning it to the side. Lee intensely studied
the profile then ran his hand over the doctor’s chest. His wasn't the round
barrel shape he remembered. His legs felt weak but Lee didn't want to return to
the bed. That place was for someone sick and he wasn't ill. A couple shaky
steps got him to the desk where he dropped into the chair.
Motioning to Rick, he pointed to the
desk. The orderly quickly set up the laptop then moved away again.
THOUGHT HE WAS FREDERICK FOR MINUTE
Dr. Anderson took a seat on the couch.
"But you realize now that Dr. Harrison is not the same man?"
YES WAS MISTAKEN LINGERING FLASHBACK
“How do you know this Frederick?”
GERMANY
“Is he one of Decker's men?”
YES MY HANDS
The doctor took a deep breath, and
whispered to herself, “This is closer to than we'd ever gotten.” Aloud, she
questioned, “Frederick is the one who injured your hands?”
STOMPED WITH HEAVY BOOTS
“Why? Did you try to escape?”
A REAL SOB
“Did Decker tell him to do it, maybe as
a punishment?”
Lee flashed back to those last minutes.
He pushed away at the laptop, starting to hyperventilate. He couldn't relive
that time again.
“Okay, I think that's enough questioning
for now. Take it easy, Lee. You need to slow down your breathing.”
Ten minutes later, both doctors had left
and Rick was helping Lee into fresh clothes.
*****
At three, Dr. Anderson had appeared for
the afternoon session. After several minutes, it was apparent Lee wasn't going
to respond to any questioning by her. He had mentally shut down for the day. It
would do more harm than good at this point to attempt to explore what had
occurred during his captivity.
“It's apparent you’re still feeling the
effects from this morning. I'll make a deal. You take a walk with me to the
common room and back. Then we'll call it quits for the day. So you know, it's
double the distance you did yesterday and a little bit more populated. You have
been making great strides getting out of your room. In fact, starting tomorrow
we'll be meeting in my office. Rick will be escorting you.”
NOT READY
“Yes, you are. Each time it will get
easier.”
NO CHOICE
“You're right. I'm not letting you hide
in here any longer. Let's go. Think how proud Chip will be when you tell him
how far you went today.”
PUSHY
As he walked, Dr. Anderson pointed out a
few features of the clinic. Pausing at the entrance to the common room, she
allowed Lee plenty of time to check it over. Large windows highlighted the
well-groomed garden and lawn. Several people could be seen outside, walking
around or sitting on lawn chairs. The room itself had several different areas.
One contained six armchairs where one could sit and read undisturbed. There was
a 30-something male there now poring over what looked like the Wall Street Journal. There were also a
couple couches and some easy chairs grouped together for easy conversation. At
this time in the afternoon only four women were taking advantage of this
placement. In addition, off to a more secluded side, to allow better
concentration, the chessboard was set up and a game ongoing. One player was a
clean-cut teen who could pass for a plebe with his bearings and looks. The
other was a raven colored longhaired woman with too much makeup and dressed for
a cocktail party.
A little bit away, there were tables set
up for cards or whatever activity you wished.
Inside a glass-sided room was a wall-mounted television, several chairs
and three couches. She made sure to point out the clipboard outside the room,
‘first come first serve’ for the use of the television set. Chip and Dr.
Jamieson both told her Lee enjoyed baseball as well as football.
Dr. Anderson was pleased there was some
action going on; it would show Lee's there was no danger to him on the other
inmates. The doctor wanted her patient to get the feel of the room. It allowed
for different diversions without intruding on individual entertainment. The doctor
had insisted when she arrived that no laptops or cell phones be allowed in this
room; even K.C. was denied the use of her computers.
*****
Lee took his time looking over the room
and was a little startled when he recognized one of the women. She was a wife
of a four-star admiral he casually knew professionally and socially.
“It's usually more crowded in the
evening after dinner. We cater to a good cross-section of professions; some
more social than others, just like any other gathering. If you want to play
cards or chess, we can work something out. We allow poker, but only for
pennies.”
Lee smiled, it was getting boring in his
room, but he still wasn't sure it was secure enough for him to be moving about
by himself. Maybe Chip and he could catch a couple innings of the game tonight
after dinner.
He had seen enough and was ready to
return to his room. On the way back, a nurse at the station stopped Dr.
Anderson; there was a call for her. Before the doctor had a chance to reply,
Lee motioned he was all right to finish their walk alone.
Back in his room he lay down, a nap
before dinner sounded like a good idea. He had asked Dr. Anderson why he was
sleeping so much. Usually five hours sleep, if that, was normal for him. She
explained it was an ordinary occurrence, his body's way of coping with the
trauma he experienced. For whatever reason, he felt exhausted and soon was
sound asleep.
At first, everything was peaceful,
almost like floating on the water with waves gently rocking him. As he entered
a deeper level of rest, things began to change. Suddenly he was back with
Decker and Frederick. The guards were holding down his arms as the butler took
great delight in smashing his boot on one than the other hand. Now Decker was
leaving him, letting Seaview’s
crewmen to come and do what they wanted. He pleaded, screaming for help.
Lee tossed and turned trying to escape.
His mouth was moving, trying to cry out but only unintelligible sounds were
forthcoming. His eyes snapped open as he sprang upright when he felt hands on
his shoulders and heard his name being called.
“Lee. Lee, wake up.”
Blinking his eyes as he tried to focus,
Lee turned his head towards the voice.
“It was just a bad dream. You're safe.”
With Chip at his side, Lee shook off the
remains of the nightmare. Leaning slightly against his friend's chest, Lee took
a couple deep breaths. He realized someone else was also nearby, he could hear
the sound of water running in the head. K.C. appeared with a towel and wet
washcloth.
“Why don't you get a dry T-shirt, Chip?”
K.C. wiped Lee's sweat drenched face,
and then pulled the perspiration soaked top over his head. Before Lee could
react, she washed and dried his chest and back before putting the fresh T-shirt
on.
“There, I'm sure that feels better. I’ve
got something you'll like, a nice glass of hot chocolate. Chip and I have been
enjoying a cup and getting to know each other.” She was rambling, allowing Lee
time to pull himself together.
Chip moved the tray in place as K. C.
filled the mug with the soothing drink, topping it with a generous dollop of
whipped cream. After placing the glass in front of Lee, she put in the straw.
Refilling the other two cups from the carafe she started to put the cream on
top of Chip’s when she heard a strange sound.
“Mmmmarsh….” The rest was impossible to
understand. Her head swiveled towards Lee. Chip was already staring at him. Lee
coughed, swallowed and tried again. The voice was hoarse and gritty but
audible.
“Marshmallows … Chip prefers …
marshmallows.”
Lee dropped his head, pretending to
concentrate on drinking his hot chocolate. In reality, he didn't want his
friends to see the tears in his eyes. He could talk again!
K.C. first checked for messages on her
three cell phones she had placed on the table by her chair, and then commented
in a nonchalant tone.
“I'll remember that for the next time,
Chip.”
“Hey, I can't help it if I have a sweet
tooth.” He too was attempting to downplay what just happened. After a couple of
minutes of silent drinking, K.C. asked a question.
“So Lee, are you escorting me to dinner
tonight? I read filet mignon is on the menu. I can reserve a secluded table if
it bothers you being seen getting help eating. Of course, you can order a
bologna sandwich if you wish.”
The grim expression on her face told him
her feelings about that choice of food over the prime cut of meat. Lee's voice came closer to normal this time,
with just a bit of huskiness in his tone. “How… can I… refuse?”
“Fine, I'll make the reservation and
have someone come and pick up this tray. Dinner is at 6:30. I can't wait to see
Barbara Hawkin's face.” She let out an undignified giggle. “I'll take two
good-looking commanders over her stodgy admiral any day.”
The two men watched as the spry
septuagenarian left with a grin on her face, already primping her hair.
“Should I call Dr. Anderson and inform
her?”
“No, Chip… she'll be by.” There was some
hesitation as he formed his words. It felt strange to have his voice back,
unsure if it would keep working. It was almost as if walking for the first time
after removing the cast from a broken leg.
“Of all the first words for you to
choose from, marshmallow!” Chip laughed, unable to hold back any longer.
“Had to… take care of… my brother’s…
cravings.” Lee joked then turned serious. “How’s Seaview? Got… the glitch in... the computer… fix?”
“Hey, I'm good, but only been back for a
day. Nevertheless, yes, with O'Brien and the techs helping I think we got it
straightened out. We're lucky it happened in port.”
“Good… Now do me… a favor.” Amazingly,
Lee didn't react to Frank's name, it was as if he didn't notice Chip's slip of
the tongue.
“Sure, what do you need, Lee?”
“A real shirt… No T… for dinner… Got a
date.”
He hoped he would be able to stand being
around so many people. Having Chip and K.C. as a buffer would help. He nodded
his approval of the light blue short-sleeved button down shirt and a pair of
navy pants Chip selected from the closet.
“I know you like older women, but don't
you think you're pushing it a little with Dr. Carter?”
“Very funny.… I remember... Someone
called Ingrid.... 50 and that... wasn't just... her bra size.” Lee's spirits
were lifted. It was wonderful to tease around with his best friend once again.
“Call Rick. I… need a shave.”
*****
Dr. Anderson found Chip and a freshly
shaved and dressed Lee sitting on the couch waiting for their date. K.C. had
barely returned to her room before calling the doctor and given her the
fantastic news.
“I hear you're eating out tonight. They
do a great job on steaks.”
“Can't let K.C.… down. She wants to…
show up Admiral.… Hawkins’s wife.”
The doctor gave a delightful laugh.
“They are both repeat patients and there is a bit of a rivalry between them.
Now, I checked and you have a table for four that have some tall plants around
to ensure your privacy. Rick will be there to help you, Lee. I want you to look
around. There are a few other patients who require assistance during their
meals; you're not the only one.”
“I just feel like… people stare… I'll
get use… to it.”
“That's the spirit. Now for the
important question. Marshmallows? I had a list of things I figured would be
your first words, including “get the hell out,” but never marshmallows.”
“Next time I'll… yell Eureka.” Lee could
tell the doctor was very pleased.
“Don't even joke about that, Lee,” Chip
pleaded.
Dr. Anderson left after commenting
tomorrow's session should prove very interesting.
Dinner started a little uneasily for Lee
but he noticed another diner with a nurse assisting him. It relaxed Lee some, especially since the
table was indeed secluded. It did make it easier with Rick attending to his
needs and not his XO or a Nobel Prize winner. The conversation stayed on
general topics and by the end Lee knew he would have no trouble returning tomorrow
for breakfast, even if it were just with Rick.
*****
Arriving promptly the next morning, Lee
sat down on the leather chair crosswise from Dr. Anderson’s seat. Other than
greeting him, the doctor remained silent allowing Lee to check out the room.
“Nice office, very spacious and even
complete with ‘the couch.’ You have restored my faith in psychiatry.” He had practiced talking since walking up,
and his speech was smooth and normal.
“I still have a few patients who feel
more comfortable lying down, plus there's plenty of room to pace if needed. I
hear the dinner was a big success.”
“It wasn't too bad after a while. KC
insisted I have breakfast with her this morning. Thankfully I was able to feed
myself.”
“She's a powerful force. I wouldn't be
surprised if she doesn't get you signed up for the poker tournament this
weekend. You've overcome two hurdles, both are big moves towards your recovery.
I see you’re not hesitating anymore while speaking. That's a very good sign. In
some cases of aphonia, a speech therapist is necessary.”
“I felt a little rusty having a
conversation at first, but with Chip and K. C. pushing, they wouldn’t let me be
quiet.”
“Do you know why you started talking
when you did?”
Lee paused before answering, not wanting
to explain about the nightmare. “I just did. Guess I couldn't stand Chip’s
disappointment over no marshmallows. You know, he takes his hot cocoa very
seriously,” Lee managed to say without breaking out a smile.
“I'm sure he's very pleased for your
concern about his taste buds,” Dr. Anderson replied in an equally fake
seriousness. “However, I feel something else triggered your ability to speak
again.” The doctor gently probed deeper. “You had a pretty bad dream and made
some noises.”
“You know how it is, you wake up, you
can't remember the dream.” Lee fidgeted in his seat, not able to meet Dr.
Anderson's eyes.
“Could it have been about Frederick and
what caused you to blackout yesterday morning? Dr. Harrison reported you made
wounded animal-like sounds at that time also.”
Lee got up and walked around, examining
the paintings on the office walls, trying to stall the conversation. As he
studied one, a large smile appeared on his face. It was a Norman Rockwell
painting of the front yard of a country farmhouse where three boys were
playing. The one that caught Lee's attention was a five-year-old redhead with a
face full of freckles sitting on a rope swing. His overalls were dirty with one
knee ripped from horseplay.
“You seem to like that picture, Lee.
Remembrance of a happier time, perhaps?” The doctor would give him space before
continuing with their original questioning.
“My grandparents had a farm with a swing
like that I used to play on. The branch was so thick I thought it could hold--”
Suddenly, Lee was no longer in the
doctor’s office or at his grandparents. He was back in the dungeon hearing
Kowalski's voice. “I want to put a rope
around his neck and lynch him from the tree out here.”
Lee pressed his hands to his ears trying
to block out Ski’s words. His own voice trembled as he called out, “Why, why do
you want to kill me? What did I do? I don't understand why everyone hates me.”
Chapter 20
During the next two weeks, Dr. Anderson
chipped away at the walls Lee had erected. The main difference now was instead
of an hour at a time, she was conducting a single two-hour session daily. Lee was a master at evading. Much time had
been wasted in the hourly sessions so when they finally came to the interesting
part, their time was almost up.
She had been concerned during the first
meeting in her office when Lee covered his ears and spoke to someone. Hearing voices was not a good sign.
Inquiring, she was relieved to find it was only a reaction to a sudden audio
flashback. That was a normal event in cases such as Lee’s.
Little by little, she drew out the story
of the visit to Professor von Kempner. She had the unhappy task of informing
Lee about his death, which he took very hard.
“Chip was with him, and told me it was a
peaceful end. You knew it was coming.”
Lee’s face emphasized how he felt about
that. “It was my fault. I was the reason
Chip was there. The professor worked himself up worrying about me. If I hadn't
been so cocksure of myself and dismissive of his claims as the wandering mind
of an old man, none of this would've happened. I couldn't even carry out his
final wish. I failed to keep the manuscript from falling into the wrong
hands.” Lee’s chin dropped into his
chest. “No wonder everyone hates me, I
am an incompetent know it all.”
It was no time to regress to self-pity,
and Dr. Anderson’s voice was firm. “Stop
feeling sorry for yourself. You graduated first at the Academy, got
fast-tracked for your promotions and you were one of the youngest sub captains
in the history of the Navy. That doesn't sound like an inept person to me.”
Lee sat up, and she had the satisfaction
of seeing that her words had gotten through to him.
He continued detailing the kidnapping,
the reunion with Decker and his first beating. When questioned if that was when
his hands were injured, Lee simply said no without any further explanation. She
already knew how Frederick had broken the bones. She now had to find out the
reason Lee was so reluctant to go into the reason and time it happened.
Lee didn't have much trouble relaying
the first part. In fact, his voice was that of a casual observer as he
recounted the pounding he received from the guards. The doctor understood she couldn't inquire
for much details and past dealings with Decker for security purposes, however
it was becoming very clear to her what kind of a man Decker was.
When it came to the actual torture and
the use of recorded voices, Lee refused to discuss any of it and she didn't
pursue the matter. They would build up to it.
The breakthrough came in the next
session.
“I don't know why, but I was moved,
maybe to protect where his headquarters was. When I woke up that last time, it
was a different place. I can't tell you what city or town I was in, but it was
definitely a castle.”
“What happened to you?” Dr. Anderson
inquired in a casual tone. She realized this was around the time Lee lost his
voice, so it was imperative to find out the exact circumstances.
“I had been drugged and I was still
groggy. In my confused state, I thought Frederick was going to attack me, so I
took a swing at him. It infuriated him
-- how dare I! He had the guards hold
onto my hands and brought his heavy boot down on each one.” Lee held up his
hands. “This was the result.”
She pretended to look through her pages
of notes. “Is this also when you lost
your voice?” The doctor nonchalantly questioned.
Lee braced his elbows on his knees, eyes
downcast, letting his head fall. He was ashamed to admit to his spineless
actions.
“Lee?” Gently she attempted to prompt
him. “I told you before. Everything is in strictest confidence. I've heard many
horror stories from my patients, you can tell me anything.”
“Not from a coward,” Lee cried, still
unable to look the woman in the eye.
“You forget I've read your file. They
don't give the DSM to cowards. I know what happened aboard Seaview the first time you were in command.”
Lee shrugged in dismissal. “You weren't there … you didn't see me ...
see me.” Jumping up, he stormed to the office door ready to make a run for it
but his inability to turn the knob stopped him. He raised his damaged hands in
fury, wanting to batter the door open, but knew he couldn’t. Body slumping, he leaned his crossed arms
across the wood and rested his head against them, shaking with bitterness for
his failure to handle such an easy task.
“Dammit, oh dammit to hell!” Lee cried
out in despair.
Dr. Anderson's stood behind him,
waiting. The next few minutes would be crucial to the patient's recovery.
“I’ll open the door and you may leave if
you choose. You could run away like the coward you claim you are. Or you can
stay and face what happened in that room. Are you telling me that would be
worse than reliving it over and over in your mind? In any event, it’s up to you; stay or go.”
For a full minute, there was no movement
or sound in the room except Lee's heavy breathing. Then he pushed himself
upright, letting out a large sigh.
“If I took off, Chip would just drag me
back and tell me what a complete fool I am. Probably kick my six to boot, too.
I might as well stay.”
He crashed onto the couch, head hanging
back against the cushions. Half lifting it, he looked at the doctor through his
thick lashes. “Would you really have opened the door for me?”
Her large blue eyes opened and she
answered, “Yes. I told you the first day I wouldn't lie to you.”
“You won't stop coming at me until I
tell you my pathetic story, will you?”
“I said it before. It’s your choice. Do
you want to spend the rest of your life acting and feeling like you do now?
You're free to leave my office, leave the clinic. No one will force you to
remain. I'm certainly not going to beg you to stay.”
“Thanks for making a guy feel welcome.”
Lee gave a weak laugh. “I'm acting like an ungrateful jerk.”
“No, you're behaving like a human being
who's been in hell and is trying to crawl his way back.”
That remark produced an outright laugh
from Lee.
Decker,
next time I hope to send you to hell.
I'm
sorry my friend, this time it's you that would be going to the fires of hell.
“What's so funny, Lee?”
“Something Decker said to me,” he
paused. “Maybe it's not so funny after all.” Lee unconsciously rubbed his legs,
his face reflecting the agony he couldn’t erase.
The doctor went to a little alcove and
opened a small refrigerator. “Time for a short break. I've got OJ, peach tea,
water or Pepsi.”
“Orange Juice is fine.”
She poured the drink into a special
glass Rick had fixed up to allow Lee to hold it by hooks on both sides. She
added a straw and grabbing a diet Pepsi, returned to her desk.
“Let’s take a break for a moment. Did K.C. tell you that she's being released
day after tomorrow?”
“Yes.
I'm going to miss her. I don’t think I could have faced eating with
others without her help. It means I'm going to need to get someone else to help
me at poker. Still can't manage anything so thin. The card holding rack you
gave me sure helps.”
“I'm certain Barb Hawkes would love to
replace K.C.,” the doctor offered with a large grin on her face. “She finds you
quite good-looking.”
Lee made a face. “Never, that would be betraying K.C. Besides,
Mrs. Hawkes has quite a rep in D.C. It's safer if I stay clear of her.”
They exchanged polite banter for several
minutes and then the doctor got back to business.
“You were going to tell me what caused
the aphonia.”
Lee finished his drink and carefully sat
the glass down, taking his time, delaying his answer.
“After the bastard broke my hands, and
Decker basically patted him on the back for the deed, he told me they had to
leave.” Lee paused, visualizing the events in his head.
“And then what?”
“He ... he told me the crew was coming
for me.”
It's
time for us to leave you to your fate. May your God have mercy on you, I'm sure
your ‘friends’ won’t.
You
can’t leave me, Decker. My hands ... I won’t be able to fight them. You know
what they plan to do to me, you can’t leave me behind.
“I
panicked, pleading with him to stay, that I couldn’t protect myself.” Lee's
breathing was coming faster. He was no
longer in the doctor’s office. “I was in my knees yelling, screaming for help.
They simply left me locked in that cell with my enemies arriving.” Crossing his
arms over his stomach, Lee doubled over. “I crawled over and tried to hide by
the cot still pleading. Damn, I was such a weakling. I could hear their feet;
they were coming down the steps, Kowalski saying they should hang me from the
tree outside.” Lee was rocking back and forth reliving the nightmare. “I gave
one last scream for help and passed out.”
During
Lee's story, Dr. Anderson got out of her chair and moved over to the couch,
sitting next, but not too close to, Lee. She urged him to finish the tale. “Any
idea how long you were out?”
Lee
recovered slightly, pulling himself back up. “I'm not sure, not too long I
think. I couldn’t understand why I was still on the floor, by myself. I should
have been dead. Then I realized they were outside talking about how much they
hated me. I figured they were waiting ... wanting to taunt me ... prolong my
suffering. I just lay on the floor. Waiting, waiting for the end. Then I realized
they had gotten into the room without me realizing it. I heard them talking by
the cot and I dragged myself slowly away, hoping they wouldn’t see. By this
time it was becoming dark, there were no windows, just light coming from a
couple cracks in the door and walls. More of them came into the room, now they
were on the other side.” Lee's voice was growing softer, becoming difficult to
understand. “I was surrounded. I curled up into a ball as small as possible. I
closed my eyes and waited, waited for death.”
Exhausted, Lee could barely hold his
head up. The doctor gently pushed his shoulders down onto the couch and pulled
up his legs. “Rest, you’ve earned it.”
*****
Dr. Anderson sat quietly contemplating
what she had just heard. The aphonia was now easily explained along with the
fetal position Lee was found in. A weaker man would not have been able to
recover as far as Lee had done. It was up to her to make him understand and
accept that. The psyche can only take so much until it rebelled. Losing the
ability to speak was the mind’s way of preventing Lee from telling this
horrible story until he was emotionally ready to deal with it. Dr. Jamieson's notes indicated how Chip
thought he had Lee persuaded. In her experience, it usually took numerous reassurances
to convince a patient his behavior was rational and very human. She needed to
proceed carefully. Lee would have to revisit the events as she reiterated that
what he was experiencing was only carefully crafted recordings, lies that
Decker had put together to deceive Lee.
Dr. Anderson wouldn't challenge Lee over what he perceived as the men's
intentions, expecting that would probably cause him to shut her out again. He
needed to accept what really had occurred.
Then she would be able to attack the last barrier -- what happened
during the interrogation and brainwashing.
The biggest mystery was why he steadfastly refused to talk about that.
What hold did Decker have on him?
She could ask Chip Morton if he knew,
but wasn’t sure of reaching him. He was
engaged in sea trials and not due back for several days. Perhaps K.C. could
help. Her influence had gotten Lee outdoors and into the fresh air. He hadn't
gone too far away from the building, but it was a start. Perhaps she could coax
him into a walk around the gardens before she left. In the company of that animated lady, it
would do Lee some good.
* * * * *
Chip sat at the desk in Lee’s cabin --
refusing still to call it his -- steaming over the directive from The Powers
That Be to move ahead with bringing in an experienced executive officer “for
the time being,” as they had so diplomatically put it. Nelson had toyed with the idea of giving the
job to Frank O’Brien, but after speaking with Chip, had decided against
it. Both men felt offering O'Brien the
XO position was a bad idea, because they refused to face the reality of Lee not
returning to duty. Chip would be able to
handle the ‘demotion’ if it came to that -- and he fervently hoped it would --
but for Frank it would have been a lot more difficult.
So Nelson had pulled some strings and
found an acceptable substitute, one of Lee’s and Chip’s classmates from the
Academy, a man biding his time at a desk job at SUBLANT before retirement. Tom Pierce had plenty of experience, not as a
sub commander, but his last assignment as XO on one of the newer attack subs
was sufficient to make him an ideal candidate for the job. He had six months left in his naval career
before he could sign off and hit the beach.
Chip could only pray they wouldn’t need that much.
He was going over the daily
reports. The new systems gave Seaview no trouble on the rapid
round-trip to Germany but they couldn't take any chances on any of the deep
water testing. The tests had four more days to run, and then the sub could return
to Santa Barbara for replenishing and to pick up the Steward Foundation
scientists for the month long cruise around the Aleutian Islands.
He closed the laptop, his mind not on
the results but on his friend. He still could see Lee's face when he told him
about becoming temporary captain. He had emphasized the ‘temporary part’, but
he could still see the hurt and fearful look in Lee's eyes, knew his friend was
wondering if he would ever be able to command again. At least Lee had approved
of Tom as XO, knowing he was a good man and would make a fine match-up with
Chip.
The
admiral was getting a lot of flak, we can’t delay the tests any longer, plus
we’ve got to make room on the schedule for the Seward Foundation project. It was a business decision that had to be
made, Lee, that’s all there is to it.
Stop
worrying, I'm fine with it, Chip. I know you'll take care of my gray lady.
A knocking interrupted his musings.
“Sir, here's the information you
requested. Also, Admiral Nelson wishes to see you as soon as you are free.”
“In other words, now. Thanks, Chief.”
Chip got up, taking the papers with him,
knowing Nelson would want to see them.
“Sharkey, how's the crew handling
everything?”
“Fine, sir, all the new equipment is
working A-1.”
“That's not what I was asking Chief, and
you know it.”
Sharkey squirmed a bit, hemming and
hawing before answering. “Well there was a little bit of grumbling when Mr.
Pierce came on board as XO. Most of the guys felt Mr. O'Brien got a raw deal,
sir,” the CPO hastily added. “Mr. Pierce seems to know this stuff, but the men
are a loyal bunch. Don't you worry, I set them straight.”
“The choice was not a reflection on Mr.
O'Brien's ability, Chief Sharkey.”
“Aye sir, I know that. It's those
muckety-mucks sticking their noses in, messing things up. Anyway, it won't be
long until the captain returns. Oh, begging your pardon, sir. I didn't mean any
disrespect.”
Chips slapped the man on the back as
they left the cabin. “None taken. I can't wait for his return either.” He stopped
in the corridor and looked Sharkey in the eyes. “There's no real problems with
the men, are there?”
“Oh no sir, real respectful and sharply
following their orders, or I’d lay into them. But if I might suggest, maybe you
or the admiral could give us an update on the skipper's condition. You know how
scuttlebutt on a sub works. One minute they got him bouncing off the walls in a
rubber room and the next his condition was all a set up for a deep undercover
mission for ONI.”
The new captain was thankful the former
was definitely untrue and wished, a little bit, that the latter was. “I'll
speak to Admiral Nelson. We won't be getting any news until we dock, but pass
the word he's receiving excellent care. You might add his doctor is very
attractive. That might give them something else to speculate about.”
“Yes, sir!”
Chapter 21
Chip wasted no time in returning to the
Dreyfus Clinic, expecting Lee to be waiting in his room but no one was
there. One of the aides suggested
looking outside. Lee had been spotted
several times spending time sitting on a nearby bench, feeding bread crumbs to
a pond full of ducks.
Chip smiled at his old friend. “Well you
sure are looking better. How are things going?”
“How the hell do you think I'm doing?
I'm going stir crazy!” snarled the dark haired man. Lee got up, walked close to the water, and
moodily stared at it. “Think if I asked
real nice they would trust me with a toy submarine to play with?”
Chip took a step back, startled at the
reception. “Whoa, what’s going on? Jamie
said the progress reports he is getting are excellent. Talk to me, pal.”
Lee kicked some small pebbles into the
pond, looking at his hands in exasperation. He couldn't even pick one up to
throw. Spying a larger stone Lee reared back and gave it all he had. It sailed
across the water and came to rest dead center on a, thankfully, unoccupied
bench.
“Two points!”
Lee finally laughed. “Shut up and let me
sulk. I'm stuck locked up here and you get to sail the seven seas, figuratively
speaking of course.”
“No reason you can't.”
“What?” Lee looked at Chip as if his
friend had flipped out.
“Well, maybe not sailing, but you can
get out of here. Dr. Anderson said it’s okay for you to have a one day pass.
Let's take a drive down the coast and stop some place for dinner. We just need
to be back by 2200.”
Lee was moving towards the parking lot
before Chip stopped speaking.
“Slow down, Lee. You have to sign out at
the nurse’s desk. There are some rules you have to agree to.”
Lee became suspicious. “What kind of
rules?”
“Not sure of all of them. There's
definitely no alcohol allowed, and I assume they’ll remind you about the curfew
and stuff like that. But why waste our time talking, just go inside and find
out.”
In a surprisingly short time, Lee was in
the passenger seat of Chip’s car, allowing Chip to buckle his seatbelt. Lee sat
still as a statue at the security gate, afraid his six hours of freedom were
about to be denied. However, the guard simply noted Chip's name and car
information and time they left. After a pleasant, “have a nice time,” the gate
swung open. Chip got onto the freeway and headed south for the nearest exit to
Highway 1, a much more scenic road, not really having any particular
destination in mind. Lee remained rigid
in the seat, his eyes glued to the side mirror.
“Don't you trust my driving anymore?
Relax, once we hit the One there will be a lot less traffic.”
“Just checking.”
“Checking for what - the police? I'm
keeping it legal.”
“No, just making sure no one is coming
after us.”
“Believe me, pal, no one is following.
You're free to 2200, so sit back and enjoy the view. Like the car? I thought
you’d enjoy reading in a convertible.
It’s Frank’s, and I promised to bring it back in one piece.”
Thankfully, Lee didn’t react to the name,
instead he took a deep breath and swiveled his head to check out the cherry red
vehicle. “Nice ride, he has good taste in colors,” giving one of his trademark
smiles to Chip.
Taking the exit, Chip made the left turn
and got onto the old highway. They drove
for several miles until Lee yelled out, “Here, stop here!”
Fortune was with them, there were no
cars close behind. Chip was able to apply the brakes and pull off to the side
without fear of getting rear-ended. They
were just past Solimar, a small oceanfront community. Parking was plentiful for the surfers who
enjoyed the waves on this part of the California coast.
“What's wrong?” Lee didn't answer, engrossed in trying to
open the car door. “Hold on. Talk to me,
Lee. What do you want?”
“I just want out, Chip. I want to look at the ocean.”
Chip hustled around to open the door,
all the while Lee acting like a child on Christmas morning. Lee jumped out and strode up to the rocks
that formed a barrier to the sand and the beach, enjoying the view of the waves
crashing on shore. There were a few
surfers in the water, taking turns riding in.
Chip had a laugh as he watched his
friend. He could almost feel Lee vibrating with happiness. “You’ll be out there
again soon enough, Lee. Just need to get
those bandages off.”
Lee simply nodded his head, taking in
the endless motion of the ocean, the sun’s rays bouncing off the water and
creating a sparkling effect. The wind
was strong, ruffling up each man’s hair.
“Looks a lot different at this height than
500 feet below the surface.”
“I envy you Chip. I miss Seaview. She's one beautiful boat. Maybe
I'll be lucky and the Navy will take me back for some desk job somewhere.”
“That won’t be necessary. I told you I’m just temporarily in charge.”
Lee turned and stared at Chip, his smile
replaced by a deep frown. “That's
impossible and you know it. Nelson isn't going to get rid of the entire crew so
I can return. He said he made a mistake putting me in command. I've accepted
they all hate me, although I still don't understand how I could have misread
everyone. I thought I had everyone’s respect.”
Chip’s mood plummeted. Hadn’t they gotten past this? “They do respect you. They want you back.”
“Only to hurt or kill me. I'll be safe
if I stay away. However, maybe you can let me know how she’s doing, from time
to time. Don't forget, for some weird
reason the outer hatch sticks on Cargo Bay Two when you’ve been under the ice
for a while. I was never able to figure
out why. You guys keep an eye on it for your next mission.”
“Lee, believe me, Chief Sharkey and ‘Ski
and the rest, they --”
“I know you and Dr. Anderson are trying,
Chip! I just haven’t gotten to the stage
that I believe you, so please stop!” The look he gave Chip was more of fear
than anger. He pulled away and stumbled, but Chip grabbed and steadied him.
“Let’s not spoil the day. You want to go
down? There's a path right here down to the sand.”
It only took a few minutes to get down
to the beach. Lee kicked off his shoes
and leaned against a large boulder. Laughing, he held up a foot to have a shoe
removed. Chip grinned back and performed the deed, joking it was time for new
Odor Eaters. He rolled up his friend’s pants legs and then did the same for
himself. Placing the shoes on top of the almost flat rock, they ran to the
water chasing the receding surf. For the next half-hour, they were 10-year-old
kids, playing in the ocean.
“I'm getting hungry, what about you?”
“You're always hungry, Morton. I'm sure
there's a drive thru close by.”
“Don't worry, I came prepared. Stop
moving so I can get your sock on, will you.” Soon they were at the car. Chip
opened the trunk and pulled out a large cooler than a smaller one. “Do you want
to eat in a car or sit on the hood?”
“How about over there?” Lee pointed to a
group of rocks, ready-made for sitting.
“Fine by me. Got cold fried chicken and
biscuits plus hunks of watermelon for dessert. I didn't forget to get plenty of
napkins. You want Pepsi, water, or iced coffee?
Sorry, no beer this trip.”
“Pepsi.
You’re going to have to hold it for me, there's nothing to balance the
can on.”
“No problem, that's what big brothers
are for.”
“You're never going to let me forget
that I barely made the age requirement are you, old man?”
Using the pop cooler as a base to hold
the larger food one, it was simple to lay out the package of chicken and
biscuits on the lid, making it easy to serve. It only took a minute for Lee to
recognize Cookie’s secret recipe. The only reason he kept on eating was
realizing the chef wouldn't poison Chip. As the last piece of chicken was
eaten, Chip having two for every one of Lee’s, and the watermelon thoroughly
enjoyed without too much mess, it was time to pack up and return to the clinic.
“Here, give me your hands, you’re still
all greasy.” Chip opened a package of wipes and cleaned first Lee's hands, than
his. Picking up all the trash, he returned the baskets to the car, allowing Lee
a last-minute look at the scenery.
There was plenty of time to return
before Lee's curfew, so with no need to rush, they enjoyed a leisurely journey
back on the highway. Lee was very quiet
during the trip, a combination of fatigue and the thought of going back to the
clinic, Chip surmised.
Once back in his room, Chip left Lee to
enjoy a slice of birthday cake the nursing staff had saved for him, and went to
find Dr. Anderson to get the latest update.
“To make it short and sweet, Lee
disclosed the facts behind his broken hands and suffered a small meltdown.
What's encouraging is he recovered very quickly, and even realized what had
happened. In addition, he's not overly reacting when the crewmen’s names are
mentioned. However, he's unshakable in his conviction they mean him great harm
if he returns, refusing to listen if anyone tries to question him about this.”
“Same thing happened with me. I
surprised he actually said Admiral Nelson's name. But he refuses to even
consider the guys want him back.”
“We knew this would not be a speedy
recovery. I hope that when you return from your next trip there is a
breakthrough. On the physical side, Dr. Kennedy is taking x-rays tomorrow of
Lee's hands to see how they are mending. His ribs seemed to have healed very
nicely.”
“It will be great when Lee can start
caring for himself again. He hates to admit to needing any assistance.”
Chip took his leave, promising to return
for another visit or two before the upcoming mission on Seaview.
*****
It was time for another session, and
this one was not going well. Lee and Dr.
Anderson sat across from each other, neither saying a word. The whiteboard was
again in use with a couple more pictures added, including Tom Pierce. The
doctor finally broke the silence.
“You'd have no problem serving with any
of these men on Seaview,” she said,
pointing to the board.
“None at all.”
“What about these men?” She tossed five
official photos on the table in front of Lee. He glanced at them, and then
looked at her in confusion.
“I don’t know any of these men. Looks like they’re in the sub service,
though, so they’d have the training for it,” he said, picking out one of the
photos and pointing at the dolphins above the man’s shirt pocket.
She took up the first photograph and
stared at it. “This is Captain Edward Robbins. Five years ago, he was stationed in Rota,
Spain. He got drunk, which I understand was normal behavior, drove his car off
a bridge into the water and drowned. He also killed his 16-year-old date.
“The next is Lieutenant Harding. You
might actually know him if you thought about it for a while, he was leaving the
U.S. Grant as you were coming
aboard. He's in Leavenworth for killing
his girlfriend because she went out with another guy while he was at sea.”
Picking up the third photo, she showed
it to Lee and said, “Lieutenant Ford, He's available, very available. Passed
over twice for promotion and left the service this year. Many people wonder how
he even made it through his plebe year.
He got lucky and fooled people for a while, but it finally caught up
with him.”
“And I suppose the other two are
deserters or embezzlers,” Lee jeered.
Dr. Anderson chuckled, shaking her
head. “No, this very attractive redhead
is my cousin. I asked him to pose for
this picture. Did a good job, don’t you
think?”
“What about this last one?” Lee couldn't
resist asking.
“Oh, his name is Tom Tyler. That's
really a publicity photo for when he had a small part on one of the soaps
playing a naval officer. I understand he
was quite good at it.”
“So all of this was a big joke. Now you are stooping to tricks.”
“No, I'm trying to make a point. You
refuse to hear one good thing about the crew that has served with you for three
years, but quickly agreed these five would likely be okay.”
“You know damn well their backgrounds
would have been checked and double-checked!”
“Just as the current Seaview crew was checked and
double-checked. There’s not a man on
board who can’t be trusted. You’dve have
dismissed them if anything else was the case.”
“Stop it! I do not want to talk about them.”
Dr. Anderson pressed on nevertheless.
“What about when Patterson was stuck in the flooding compartment? Knowing the hatch would be closing soon, you
jumped in. You’d gotten Pat halfway up the ladder when the boat shifted and you
lost your balance, hitting your head. He went back into the water and saved
you.”
Lee quickly tried to refute her
claim. “He had to. There were people
topside that would call him a coward if he hadn’t. He couldn’t take the risk.”
“You really expect me to believe that?
Remember you keep insisting all these men want you dead. If Patterson had just
left you, no one would have said a word. Maybe even congratulate him for
solving the problem.”
“NO! That's not how it was. He had to
save me because... because...” Lee turned away. He would not let her suck him
in to these lies. “I'm not going to let you talk to me about these people. I
can't, don't you understand? Just leave it alone!”
And so it went. The doctor would tell a
story leaving Lee no chance but to listen. He had problems even with the funny
ones, such as the time the men attempted a surprise birthday party for Chip.
The XO kept showing up unexpectedly, the worse being visiting the galley when
Cookie was baking the cake. Eventually Lee managed to get Chip off the boat,
pleading that he needed Chip in his office to go over some overdue reports,
giving the crew time to finish decorating and get a fine birthday lunch
together. Chip had been thoroughly
surprised. It was one of many times, the doctor reiterated, that all the crew
-- including Lee -- had pulled together to accomplish an objective.
Each time, the story had been followed
by the dreaded words, I don't want talk
about it. I can't talk about it.
Dr. Anderson continued her assaults. She
was slowly gaining some ground. Although he wouldn't relinquish his belief in
the men's intentions, he would at times calmly sit while the doctor continued
her tales, albeit coming up with an excuse for the behavior. The session had ended without another
outburst.
She was now sitting in her office,
writing up her notes.
I
guess it makes sense, the closer the relationship the more painful the supposed
betrayal. I have to call Admiral Starke again to see if I can get those files.
If I surprise Lee by attacking Decker, it might break the hold he has on him.
The ringing of the phone interrupted her
thoughts.
“Dr. Anderson.”
“Doctor, this is Admiral Starke. I'll get right to the point. There's good
news and bad news. The bad, ONI refuses to release any files to you.”
Dammit, don't they realize what's at
stake?”
“That's where the good news comes in.
One of their agents, Art Gordon is back in the states. He was part of the
search crew for Crane in Germany. He’s
got some information for you on Decker, not firsthand intel, but he knows the
guy's make up. Gordon has details of Crane's previous run-ins with Decker. Best
of all, he's a friend. My question to you, when do you want him? He's in DC
waiting for my call.”
“Last week.” Full of anticipation of
what this could mean in her sessions, the doctor quickly made arrangements,
emphasizing the agent should stay in a nearby hotel to avoid any accidental
meetings with Lee. “I don't want to take a chance Lee would see him, without
first exploring his response.”
“Right, I'll make a call. He’ll be there tomorrow.” Starke paused, then
in the well-known gruff voice asked, “how's Crane doing, you’ve got to get that
boy back on Seaview. I hate to admit
it, but Harry needs him.”
*****
On the drive home from the hotel, Dr.
Anderson went over what Agent Gordon had revealed. She had a much better picture
of Decker; he was what one of her professors called ‘really freaky,’ truly a
sadistic megalomaniac. The fact he was able to intelligently control a large
criminal enterprise made him even more dangerous. During their sessions, Lee
had commented he had to “believe what Decker said, Decker was right.” Somehow,
Decker had gained Lee's trust, producing a form of Stockholm Syndrome which
meant the sadist had a terrifying hold on Lee, rendering him unable to defy
him.
In their session today, she would start
reestablishing what Decker was actually like, taking Lee through his first two
encounters. She would offer no criticism, no judgment; just bring up the facts
of the man’s brutality. In that way she might open a crack on the hold Decker
had.
Returning to the clinic, she had called
Lee to her office. Once again, she tried
to talk about the incident with Kowalski.
Lee exploded. Screaming and
yelling at her, going so far as to knock several pillows off the coach, he had
informed her in an almost threatening tone not to talk about that “hangman”
again.
Drawing a deep breath, it was time to
discuss what Gordon had told her. This
had to be a straight on attack.
“Tell me about your first encounter with
William Decker.”
“It's classified,” Lee smugly snapped.
She shook her head. “No, it's not. I'm clear to hear about your,
let's say, personal time, with him. I have no need to dwell into the who or
what you were after. Therefore, I'll say it again. Tell me about your first
meeting with Decker.”
With great reluctance Lee recounted his
time in Australia, recounting the brutal beatings and interlacing isolation and
dehydration tactics that Decker had employed.
“You endured rough treatment at his
hands.”
Lee was conflicted about answering. He
couldn't betray Decker. Hadn't he somehow saved Lee's life from the attack by
Kowalski and the others? He had repeatedly shown kindness and concern for Lee
while he was forced to torture him.
Kindness? There was no
kindness in Australia, only savage beatings and the withholding of food and
water.
“Lee? What are you thinking about?”
“He was doing his job and so was I. He
needed information. I had to keep it from him.” A simple statement of how the
game was played.
“So you are saying Decker was justified
in his actions.”
Lee was becoming more confused. Decker
was a criminal. Lee was supposed to stop him. What was he doing defending him?
“You don't comprehend. Germany was
different. He helped me, protect me from
the crew as best as possible.”
“I'm not interested in what happened in
Germany right now. We’re discussing your time ‘down under.’ Did he have the
right to treat you with such cruelty?”
“You still don't understand. It's not that simple.”
The doctor continued to apply more
pressure. “I'm just after the facts. You said he would have his men beat you
while asking questions. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“These beatings would continue until you
were unconscious.”
“Most of the time,” he answered in a
flat, emotionless tone, unwilling to allow the doctor any insights.
“Then he would lock you up in a
windowless room for 24 hours with no food or water. That's the facts concerning
the time you spent in his hands, isn't it?
Just for some info, some papers, he thought you had?”
“He was trying to weaken me, break me so
I would reveal where I hid the papers.”
Something inside was making Lee
desperate to have the doctor appreciate why these things happened. Finally, he
broke down. “What difference does it make now, it was years ago.”
Lee got off his chair and began pacing up
and down the office. He was having difficulty defending Decker’s actions. With
each trip across the floor, he was stopping further and further away from Dr.
Anderson. Even then, he wasn't feeling safe from her probing eyes and words.
“You're telling me Decker did nothing
wrong. He should have handled you that way. He had a right to the information
you were keeping from him. You were wrong by hiding it.” The doctor’s voice
became accusing, as if Lee was a criminal.
“Yes … no ... I don't know. You're trying
to confuse me. Make me say things I don't want to. Leave me alone. Just stop and leave me alone, please.”
“No, I won't stop. I have the right to
know what kind of man I am treating. If you keep claiming William Decker had a
right to do the things he did, that must mean you are in the wrong. That means
you’re a traitor to your country. Was
that his plan? Surely he told you all about it during your “conversations” with
him.”
Lee had now backed himself into the
corner. Dr. Anderson was out of her chair
now, walking towards him. Her skin was
slightly flushed and her blue eyes piercing as she pressed forward.
“Well, were you the bad guy? Come on,
Lee, it's an easy question. Why don't
you answer me?”
Lee pushed past her, causing her to
stumble. He didn't mean any harm, he just needed space. He came to a stop
behind his chair, firmly planting his casts on the back of it. Lee looked
around the room, his gaze coming to rest upon the Rockwell picture. Happy
memories of a simpler time when it was the white hats against the black hats.
He looked at the doctor, drawing out every ounce of courage he had to defy
Decker.
“No.
I was a good guy. Decker never got any information out of me. I was rescued before that happened. With that, doctor, I'm done for the day.” He
went for the door and this time was able to turn the doorknob in an awkward but
effective two-handed method and left the office, leaving behind a smiling
doctor.
Chapter 22
The nightmares started again. The last
two nights, the nurses reported how violent Lee was during the dreams and upon
awakening from them. Dr. Anderson surmised they were the result of Saturday's
meeting, so during Monday's session she brought them up for scrutiny.
“Can you tell me about the dreams?”
Lee tapped his foot, anxious to leave
the subject alone. He disliked speaking about his nightmares.
“Can't remember much about them. Doesn't
matter, just dreams.”
“Lee, dreams do matter. Nightmares can
sometime tell what you've been thinking about or reveal something bad that might
have happened in the past.”
“Last night, well, I was in a car crash,
couldn't get out.”
“Did this ever happened to you?”
Lee nodded, recalling the accident
earlier in the year.
“Just like I told you. Was there
anything else about the dream you can remember?” The doctor gently pried.
Lee started his now familiar gesture of
rubbing his thighs. “Car caught on fire. I was trapped, yelling for help.”
“That part never happened, did it?”
Lee grudgingly furnished the
information. “No, lots of crashes but
never on fire. One did blow up, but I was well away from it.”
Dr. Anderson didn't understand Lee's
reluctance in discussing the nightmares. She was expecting something about
Decker and the beatings since they had explored them so thoroughly. Of course,
being trapped and with unanswered calls for help could be attributed to his
encounter with Decker.
“What about your other nightmares? Can
you tell me anything about them?”
“I’d like to forget about it.” He
had a haunted look on his face. Lee didn't need the doctor analyzing his dreams
about fire and being burned alive, he lived it.
“It you talk about it, usually they
won't bother you afterwards. You can see it for what it is, a bad dream. Why
don't you try?”
Lee shrugged. “I don't know how but I was in a house, it
was on fire. Flaming timbers were dropping all around me. I was surrounded by
the blaze, with no way out.”
Fire
again, that's the third dream about burning. Maybe I'm on the wrong track
thinking they were about Germany. I have to try to get more information. There
are no old burn scars, perhaps he saw someone die and couldn’t help.
“That would be frightening, but that was
only in your dream.”
“Right, I was never in a situation like
that.” Lee gave a nervous laugh. “I'm sure I wouldn't forget anything that
dramatic.”
“If you keep having trouble sleeping,
I’ll prescribe something to help you sleep.”
“No drugs, I’ll work this through on my
own.”
“Your choice, but if it becomes chronic
I will insist.” Not giving Lee a chance to argue she changed subjects. “We were
discussing Decker during the last session. What happened the second time you
met?”
“We never were face-to-face. He had
kidnapped two scientists and was attempting to extract their formula from
them.”
“How was he going about it?”
Lee's mouth
tightened as he visualized the damage done to the two men. “Drugs and torture, his old standby. I
had infiltrated the compound; however, it took three days before I had a chance
to escape with the two men. Both were in bad shape but I had arranged backup to
wait nearby. We managed to get safely away before the scientists broke and gave
away the information.”
“The two civilians, they weren't spies,
simply chemists?”
“Yes, in fact what they discovered was
by accident. An experiment that failed, but provided a dangerous byproduct. I'm
still not sure how Decker found out about it so quickly.”
“Saturday when I asked about your cruel
treatment, you said it was part of the spy game. Decker did what he had to do,
and so did you.”
Lee spoke with
a false bravado.
“It’s the risk you take.”
Dr. Anderson pressed the point. “But
these two men, civilians, were not part of ‘the game.’ They never signed up for
that. Decker didn't care, he didn't play fair.”
Lee increased the rubbing of his legs
even as he sat back trying to appear relaxed. “No, he was going to sell it to a
terrorist group.”
“So, with all you know about what he has
committed, all he is capable of doing, would you not call him evil? And a traitor?” Dr.
Anderson had difficulty keeping her face expressionless after hearing about the
savage treatment of the two scientists.
*****
Evil? Traitor? He was differently a master
criminal. What was he doing trying to defend someone like that?
The two
nights without much sleep was making it difficult to think. Lee sought out what
had become his favorite painting on the wall, the boys playing on the swing.
Looking at it quieted the turmoil he was experiencing.
Face it Lee, it was your job to stop him. You
go after the traitors, the terrorists. Admit it, Decker's all that and more. He
couldn't say these words out loud. Lee
shifted his eyes from the painting to the doctor, who sat still, waiting for
his response. What could he say?
“Someone
has to stop him before he becomes even more powerful.” He leaned his head back
against the cushions, his face
showing his exhaustion, and spoke in a monotone. “I'm tired, can we stop?”
The doctor
picked up the phone and spoke briefly into it. Smiling as she hung up, she
joined Lee on the couch.
“Dr.
Kennedy has time to see you now.”
Lee
quickly sat up, interrupting her. His eyes suddenly alert, was this some trick?
He had spoken against Decker, would he now be punished? “I don’t need to see a
doctor, I'm just tired.”
Dr.
Anderson couldn't help but laugh. “Not even to get your casts removed? He
planned on doing it tomorrow, however he won't mind getting off a day early.”
Lee was
already standing before she stopped speaking, happy at the news and
relieved his newfound trust in the doctor had not been betrayed.
“Hold on a
minute. When you are finished with Dr. Kennedy, I wanted to talk about what
happened in Germany and Decker's treatment of you. Be back here at two and
we’ll continue our discussion.”
*****
Lee sat by the duck pond trying to carry
out Dr. Anderson's instructions. He looked at his pale hands, the left still
partially covered by a wrist brace. He would need to use it to regain its
strength. He already had a physical therapy session with more scheduled.
His hands … Decker first grinned and then congratulated Frederick for breaking
them. He apologized for causing pain and then said he’d try and help me.
I'm sorry to be doing
this to you, but I accepted the job. These guys really hate you, don't they? I
can't believe they want you to suffer so much. I pray you are never alone with any of them.
Personally, I would be terrified. I'll try and get them to go a little easier on you.
I'm the only one you can
trust. I'll try and protect you as much as possible, but they're out for your
blood. I'm sure you're horrified by what these men want to do to you.
I'll take care of you.
It's all over for now, Lee. You can relax. You’re safe for the moment. Those monsters can’t get their claws into
you yet.
Remember, you have to
believe what these men said, if not, the burning will start
again, you don't want that to happen. It will never stop if you disobey me. You
heard what they said they hate you, never stop…
Never stop…
They hate you…
Never stop.
Lee rested his head in his hands, closing his eyes
attempting to block out those terrifying memories. Dr. Anderson had questioned
what to call him, evil, or traitor. Lee was trying to sort out his thoughts,
but the voices in his head wouldn't go away. His stomach was twisted and not in
fear. It was becoming harder and harder to fight against the arguments that
doctor was making.
“Sir, Commander Crane, are you okay?” A hand on the
shoulder shaking him brought Lee to the present. “Sir, it's time for your
session with Dr. Anderson.” Lee shook his head to be rid of the chaos and
looked up into Rick’s concerned face. He gave a weak chuckle as he held up his
hands. “Guess it's time to part company, Rick.”
“Sorry sir, you can't leave me that easy. It’s
going to be a while until your dexterity is back.” Before Lee could show his
disappointment, the orderly hurried on. “But I'll bet that long hot shower
tonight sounds good to you. You should stick to Polo shirts, no buttons, which
will make dressing easier.” Switching
gears, he prodded Lee along. “The doc’s waiting for you, but I could swing by
and pick up a sandwich and coffee if you want.”
Lee pasted a false smile on his face to escape any
more questions. “No, not hungry and I can raid her coffee pot.
For an Army shrink, she makes pretty good stuff.”
“But it’s not like the Navy, right, sir?”
The men walked across the yard, Lee thankful for
the joking young man. He knew this afternoon session would be hard; it was time
to talk about the last encounter with Decker.
*****
“How are the hands, Lee? I'll sure the therapist
warned not to overdo it, but knowing your history…”
“You’re a worse mother hen then Chip. Don't worry,
I'll behave, no way I’m getting casts back on.” He took a sip from his cup and
anticipated the opening move.
He didn't have to wait long for it. Dr. Anderson
put down her cup and turned the whiteboard around showing the pictures of the
crew. Startled, Lee jerked his head, not expecting this. She took a picture
of Patterson down and handed it to Lee, at the same time reading aloud a report
she had of one of their adventures where it took working together for both of
them to survive.
“Stop it. That was
before they all turned against me.” Angrily he threw the paper away, not
wanting to see the smiling face.
The doctor didn't stop. The next was of John, one
of the corpsmen. She played the snippet of recording with his voice, finishing
up with an explanation of what the conversation really was about.
“I've told you, he’s making this up, trying to
excuse his behavior.” He flung it on the floor where it landed close to the
first.
One more picture was tossed on the couch next to
Lee, and then the hateful words read. “What
a show off, don't know how the admiral is putting up with him.”
This time there was a newspaper photo taken at a
charity event where Lee had his arm across O'Brien’s back, both having huge
smiles. She stopped to allow Lee time to absorb the information. He kept
insisting it was all a conspiracy to cover up their attack on him.
“Lee, listen to yourself. A conspiracy? You are
saying over 120 men, most who served honorably in the military, have come
together for the sole purpose of killing you. Men who have served with you for two
or three years hid their hatred for you the whole time.”
“You heard the recordings, heard what they said.
How can you question that fact?” Lee cried out, wishing to end the discussion.
Decker's warning was ringing in his head. What a coward I am, can’t even
keep my hands from shaking.
“I also read the explanation of what really was
said. It makes more sense that the recordings were manipulated, than all these
men wishing you were dead.”
“No, you can't make me accept that. I have to
believe what Decker told me. Why don't you understand that!” His words were
rushed, needing to stop her before he weakened further.
The doctor intensified the attack on Lee's
argument. “This morning you admitted Decker had to be stopped. You told me how
him sadistic he was, torturing those innocent men. How can you continue to
defend such a man?”
Lee was on his feet, raising his voice and pointing
his finger at the doctor, as he demanded, “Stop saying those things!”
She remained in her chair looking up at him, her
voice under control. “I'm simply asking you to give me a justification for your
refusal to listen to any logical explanation. I want you to give me a rational
reason for your inability to accept the fact Decker messed around with your
crew's conversations. They haven't turned against you. Thanks to his deviltry
he has you turning against them.”
Dr. Anderson punched the button again. “What a jerk, trying to be my buddy! Like to
punch him in the face.” Chip told me Kowalski is your ‘go to’ man. He's usually your diving
partner.”
“He wanted to hang me. When he showed up right
after Decker was leaving, I heard him.”
Ski's voice was blaring in his head. Break down the doors if we have to, but get
Crane! I want to put a rope around his
neck and lynch him from the tree out here. Why bother dragging that sorry piece
of crap back to the boat. “Decker, yeah Decker, somehow he stopped Kowalski from carrying out his
plan. How else do you explain that I'm still alive?” His voice was frantic as
he fought to prove his point.
She remained stoic as Lee's frenzied behavior
escalated. “How can you say that?
Kowalski has saved your life at least twice that I know of. While that madman
has done nothing but caused you pain. Look how he has injured other people. You
saw with your own eyes what he's capable of. I'm sure there'll are multiple
dead bodies which can be traced back to his operations.”
“I can't listen to you. I have to trust Decker. I
have to believe when he told me. I heard Kowalski, I hear him say he wanted to
hang me.” Lee's normal olive complexion was now an angry red as he screamed at
her.
The doctor played her trump card, it was now or never.
“No, you didn't. That would be impossible.”
Once again, Lee interrupted in his frantic rush to
stop this conversation. He ranted at her, his eyes flashing in panic. He was so
tired; he didn't know how long he could withstand her verbal onslaught. “I
heard him; I told you I heard him say those words.”
“It's true he was there -- but later. Ski was the
person who picked up your signal and directed the rescue team to you. Before
you start your ‘it's a lie,’ Chip told me the whole story. Kowalski and Patterson
were with him the entire time in Germany, searching for you. You don't think
Chip is plotting against you, do you?”
Lee didn't know what to do. He kept circling the
couch rubbing his arms, arguing with himself under his breath. I have to
believe Decker, he told me what would happen by listening to the others. Chip
wouldn’t lie. I heard those men, they hate me. What did I ever do to them to
cause that feeling? Chip tried to tell me ... I can't stand the pain again.
Decker is a criminal, a murderer. How can I still defend him?
Dr. Anderson was watching Lee closely, hating all
the distress and anguish he was going through. He was rapidly losing what
little control he had, however she had to play one more cut from the CD. Trying to
stop Lee's frantic walking and draw his attention to her, the doctor held up an 8 x 10 picture of three officers standing in front of fireplace, a Christmas tree off
to the side. All three wore identical Rudolph sweaters, a gift from Edith
Nelson. The men had a ‘what can you do’ grin on their faces.
The doctor pressed the button and Nelson’s voice
came through loud and clear. “It was a mistake making him captain.”
“Think, Lee, remember! The admiral has been as
close as a father to you more than half your life. How could he betray you? He
fought hard to try to get you to be Seaview's first CO. You think
someone like Nelson would stand for someone he felt was incompetent to be in
command, no matter how he personally felt about the man? Is that the officer who taught you at the
Academy and served with you? He told you, Chip told you, the statement had
nothing to do with you and Seaview.
Why are you willing to continue to stand by Decker, against your
family?” The doctor’s voice had never risen in volume but there was a force behind
her words, a force pounding away at Lee's inflexibility.
It
was a mistake to make him captain; It was a mistake to make him captain… You
must listen to me, don't be taken in by their lies, they all hate you, want you
gone….
Lee placed his hands over his ears, desperately
trying to block out the sounds. “No! No! That's not true! Nelson wanted me as
captain but,” Lee sobbed, “but I have to believe Decker, don't you understand?
The pain, I can't go through that again. Please don't make me choose. The burning
-- I won’t be able to stand it -- you have to help me. Don't let it start
again. Decker … I believe you, don't, please don't...”
Lee's hair was standing up in spikes from running
his hand through it, his eyes ablaze with an uncontrolled panic, his labored
breath caused by the terror he felt.
Lee fell on the floor next to Dr. Anderson,
wrapping his arms around her legs, crying out, “Tell Decker I still believe
him, I didn't listen to you. Can’t listen to that stuff again... The pain, I
can't do it again, please, please help me... I don't want to believe him… Help
me... Don't let the burning start, he said it would never stop, please!”
The doctor pressed the button on the wall and
ordered 2 mg of Ativan. Within a minute, the nurse appeared and gave the
injection. Dr. Anderson spoke in a soothing voice, trying to calm the
overwrought man. As the tranquilizer took hold, he quieted down, releasing his
hold on her legs.
“Everything will be all right now, Lee. You have
nothing to fear from William Decker, he can't hurt you. Your friends won't let
him.” She continued rubbing her hand over his back until he was silent.
*****
Lee opened his eyes but couldn't see much in the
darkened room, however there was a light coming from the almost closed door in
the bathroom. There was a slight noise showing he was not alone. As the figure
moved closer to the bed, he recognized Dr. Anderson.
“I thought I heard you stirring. How do you feel?”
She reached out for Lee's arm and took his pulse. “Do you want some water?”
Without waiting for an answer, she poured a glass and brought it to Lee's lips.
He gratefully took some, and then took control of the glass. The doctor stepped
back not wanting to crowd him. She waited in silence, letting him work his way
out of the drug sleep.
The doctor needed to emphasize a few things while
everything was still fresh, then Lee would be sedated. Sleep was the best thing
right now. He finished the water and was awkwardly trying to set the cup down.
“Here, I'll take that.” After returning the glass
to the table, she walked over and pushed the bathroom door open, spilling more
light into the room. She felt Lee's eyes following her. Back at the bedside,
the doctor grabbed the desk chair and sat down.
“It's all right, take your time. It's normal to be
a little dazed.” She gave Lee a small smile of assurance.
Lee looked around the room in puzzlement. Finally
he spoke, his voice at first rough with sleep. “I thought I'd wake up in a
padded cell after my performance, not back in my own room.”
“Sorry, not a single padded wall in the clinic and
the moths got to the straitjackets. Could I interest you in a restraining strap
or two? Besides, your performance as you call it, would rate a C+, or maybe B-
with the leg clutching. Hardly worth bringing out the straps.” She was working
hard to keep things light; there was no need to let him think his behavior was
so bizarre.
“Now what?”
“I don't know what you mean?”
“What happens to me next? Send me to a more secure
hospital?” There was fear in his eyes
and his voice was unsteady.
“Why would I do that when all our hard work finally
paid off? You had the breakthrough we needed.”
“Breakthrough, I'd call it a breakdown,” Lee
interjected with the shaky laugh of relief.
“That's why I am the doctor and you're the sub
jockey. How about you let me do my job, so you can go back to yours?”
Lee's eyes lit up when the doctor said that. “You
really think so? You think that the Navy would want me after this?”
Dr. Anderson caught the Navy, not Seaview
and chose not to comment, that would come in the ensuing sessions. She pulled
the cord for the nurse before explaining.
“Lee, I'm going to sedate you for the rest of the
night. First, I want to have you think about something. I didn't understand
everything you were shouting earlier. What I figured out, Decker threatened you
some sort of punishment if you spoke up. You did that. And nothing happened to
you. Think about it for a while, he can't hurt you, you're free of him.”
The nurse entered with a cup holding two pills,
which Lee reluctantly swallowed. Dr. Anderson was ready to leave. “Usually the
pills take 30 to 40 minutes to be effective. You may want to hit the head
before that. Nancy can tuck you back in bed. Remember, Decker's gone, there's
nothing he can do any more.”
“He can't hurt me, he can't hurt me anymore,” Lee
repeated softly to himself as he got out of bed and stood on his own two feet.
*****
The brain is a very complex organ. Lee
was finding this out. He had broken the control Decker had over him. He now
realized the threats the sadist made could not be carried out. However, there
was still the programming of what Lee believed the crew felt towards him to
overcome. Throughout the next several weeks, Dr. Anderson patiently helped Lee
to regain his trust and friendship for the officers and men of Seaview. Gone was the panic and fear;
he no longer reacted negatively when the doctor carefully explained what each
man had actually said, not the contrived conversations Boris had masterminded.
Lee and Dr. Anderson spent many of the
appointments walking around the grounds. To her relief there were no more
outbursts, although at times Lee became frustrated and would walk away. He
could then be found sitting by the duck pond enjoying the solitude. After each
session, Lee took a long walk and thought over what had been said. He needed to
walk off some of the nervous energy he felt. In the latest session, Lee had
brought up a story himself, laughingly recalling when Kowalski and Patterson
had played a prank on Chief Sharkey, then begging their CO to turn a blind eye
when he discovered it. She knew Lee was
ready for the final step, face-to-face meetings.
Between Chip's visits and being freed
from Decker's control, Lee was returning to his old self, not just emotionally
but also physically. The last two mornings he started to jog again, no more
going around in a half daze. He found himself smiling for no reason. And when
shaving, he recognized the face in the mirror; gone was the haunted
terror-filled eyes staring back at him. He still suffered from periods of
anxiety over the coming reunion with the crew, but Dr. Anderson assured him
they would lessen after the first few meetings.
Seaview's
return had allowed Chip to visit several times, taking Lee out on day passes.
Tomorrow he would pick up Lee for an overnight stay in Chip’s condo. A small
get-together was planned with Admiral Nelson and Dr. Jamieson for barbecue and
the next afternoon, if everything went all right, Kowalski, Patterson, Riley
and Sharkey would stop by for a short visit.
“Are you all set for tomorrow? Chip said
he would be here by noon.”
“I'm nervous to see Jamie and the
admiral. Not because I think they are planning any harm, that's all behind me
now,” he hurried to clarify, “but because of how I acted towards them. How
could I have doubted them and behaved like such a coward? I'm ashamed of myself.” Lee couldn't
look at the doctor as he admitted these feelings. His hands were tapping the
side of his legs in misery.
“You've been ill; no one is holding
anything against you. We have explored these feelings quite a few times. You
endured terrible sessions of drugs, torture and brainwashing. If you were delirious with a high fever,
would you feel guilty for the things you said? The admiral can't wait to see
you. He's been calling every day and so has Dr. Jamieson. Chip told me he
barely gets home and his phone is ringing for a report about you.”
“Well, you know how dads are, they can
be impatient.” The doctor broke out laughing.
“What's so funny?”
“You just called Admiral Nelson, a
‘dad.’ I think everything will be fine.”
“Well, um, I don't usually address him
like that. Our relationship is a little hard to explain.” Lee blushed at being
caught in the slip of the tongue, but the crooked grin stayed on his face. His
smiles hadn't reached his eyes yet, but there was a glint from time to time.
“Just relax, Lee, and enjoy yourself.
Everyone is on your side.”
CHAPTER 23
“Lee, I can't afford a new carpet so
would you please sit down and stop pacing. How about a beer? Dr. Anderson said
a couple drinks would be okay this weekend.”
“Sounds great, I'll get it.” It was nice
to have something to do to keep his mind off the forthcoming visit. He grabbed
two longnecks from the refrigerator and sat down at the kitchen table. “Sure
there's nothing I can help with?”
“Nope, ribs are on the grill, corn is
ready to boil and coleslaw is in the fridge. After you finish your beer you can
set the table on the patio if it will make you happy.”
“Sorry, just anxious.” His relationship
with Admiral Nelson was complicated; he can only hope it was possible to return
to the same level of friendship. It would be difficult and painful but he could
survive without Seaview but not
without his adopted father in his life.
He took several peanuts out of a dish and lined them up on the table,
unable
to look at his friend as he asked the
question. “Has the admiral said anything
about me coming back?” Lee patted himself on the back; he had gotten his query
out without his voice shaking.
“For Pete's sake Lee, take it easy. As
soon as Dr. Anderson gives the word, I'm handing over the keys to you. I told
you before; I'm just the temporary captain.”
“What about the Navy? They’ve demanded
input into Nelson's decisions in the past.” He pushed the peanuts in a circle
as he anxiously awaited Chip's answer.
“The Navy can go to blazes,” the booming
voice came from the French doors. “I chose my captain and you are it. Don't
ever doubt that for a second, lad.”
Startled, Lee sprang to his feet,
knocking over his chair. “Admiral, sir, what are you doing here? Sir, I didn't
mean it that way, it's just--”
Nelson chuckled at Lee being so
flustered. “At ease. I couldn't stay away any longer. Hope you don't mind I
came early.” He raised the paper bag and smiled. “I brought a little something
for later to celebrate with.”
Lee still hadn't said anything else,
busy keeping a close eye on Nelson. Chip reached down and picked up the chair.
“No problem, Admiral. Care for a beer?”
“Thanks, Chip, one would taste good
right now. The ribs smell fantastic. My mouth is watering already.” He accepted
the bottle and sat down facing the still standing dark-haired officer. In a
gentle voice, full of compassion he spoke to him.
“Sit down, Lee.”
Chip grabbed the tray with the table
settings and quietly walked into the kitchen. The two of them had lots to talk
about and didn't need a third party hanging around.
“Lee, please sit and finish your beer.”
Obeying the admiral, Lee
slumped
down on the chair. Taking a few halfhearted sips, he put the bottle back on the
table.
“Is it that hard for you to talk to me?”
“No, sir.” Too embarrassed to look at
the man, Lee resumed playing with the nuts. Shame over his behavior was keeping
him tongue-tied.
Nelson smiled at his friend. “I'm sure
there's more you want to say then ‘yes sir, no sir.’ Chip told me he had been
talking up a storm with you. Think you could spare a couple words for me?”
“Sorry, sir.” Real smooth Crane, you’re here to plead for your command back and you
can't say more than two words at a time.
“For God's sake, dropped the sirs. What
happened to Harry or -- Dad?”
With this simple question, the tension
was broken. Now it was Lee's turn to smile. “Only for when I'm asking for the
car keys.” They both laughed, recalling the time two years ago when Lee found
out Nelson had been his anonymous guardian since the sixth grade and had
watched over him after his biological father deserted the family and his mother
needed to be repeatedly institutionalized.
“That's better. How are you doing?”
“I'm fine,” Lee answered automatically.
That familiar answer caused renewed
laughter from Nelson, followed by Lee when he realized what he had said.
“I really do feel fine. Physically I'm
98%, still having a little problem with the wrist and fingers but another
couple weeks and I'll be 100%.” Lee did his unconscious trick of ducking his
head and looking through his thick eyelashes. Chip had called it the puppy dog
look.
“That's great to hear. Dr. Anderson said
you're doing very well in therapy.”
“I know it sounds cliché, but I don't
think I would be here if it hadn't been for her.” Lee swallowed and said quietly, “Admiral, on Seaview … I said and did a lot of
terrible things. I'm sorry, can you
forgive me?”
Nelson’s lips quivered, and he fought
down the emotion. Shakily, he said,
“Lad, there is absolutely nothing to apologize for. You were wounded; the
injury just couldn't show up on an x-ray like your hands or ribs.”
“Dr. Anderson keeps reminding me of
that,” Lee admitted with a sheepish smile.
“Listen to me very closely. If you ever
want to talk about what you went through at Decker‘s hands I'm here to listen.
I never want you to apologize to me again for what you did while under his
influence.”
“Yes, sir, understood.” Lee straightened
up in his chair, and pushed the peanuts away. There'd be no more awkward
moments between the two men. The twinkle was back in his eyes.
Harry finished his beer while silently
debating with himself. Quickly he came to a conclusion.
“I wasn't going to bring this up until I
visited you next week at the Clinic but I'm sure you would like things settled.
I meant it earlier when I said you were
Seaview's captain. Now, we leave on another month-long project in two
weeks. I think that because of your ongoing physical therapy you’re not quite
ready for the upcoming mission, so Chip can drive the boat for a bit
longer. However, once that’s completed,
we’ve got a week in port and then we’re heading out again for a three-week
assignment for UCLA.”
“The Jonas grant
concerning whales, if I'm remembering correctly.”
“That's right. I think that would be the
perfect cruise for you to resume your command. Provided Dr. Anderson signs off
on you.”
*****
Nelson got two more beers out of the
refrigerator when they both heard Chip's unnecessarily loud voice greeting
Jamie. The blonde officer had gone into protective mode, warning the two inside
of the arriving interruption to their conversation.
“Think Chip is ready for another one.
I'll keep him company while Jamie fusses over you. You can't believe how
worried that man was about you. I had to keep stopping by to hold his hand and
reassure him.”
“That was awfully nice of you, sir. I
bet it made a dent in your scotch supply.” Lee had a grin on his face, which
grew bigger at Nelson's harrumph!
The two older men greeted each other,
Jamie managing a quick look at Nelson's face.
He was rewarded with a smile and a wink. The doctor was carrying a cake
box topped with a plateful of chocolate chip and Snickerdoodle cookies. Lee carried the plate into the kitchen.
“I didn’t want you kids fighting so I
made both Chip’s and your favorites, Lee.”
Lee chuckled at the doctor's words, for
all his military bearing his friend could become a bit juvenile over his sweets.
“What’s in the box, Jamie?”
“You see before you a true labor of love
from one Francis Sharkey, bakery chef extraordinaire. There are four layers
alternating dark and milk chocolate cake with a fudge filling and decorated
with chocolate curls and white chocolate chunks, destined to put us all into a
diabetic coma.”
Lee's eyes grew bigger and bigger while
Jamie pointed out the details of the masterpiece in front of them. Cookie was a
fantastic chef and baker, but when the chief got the urge, no one could touch
him.
Safely depositing the treasure on the
countertop, the doctor faced his friend and always-stubborn patient.
“Let me check out your hands, I want to
make sure no one messed up my work.”
Lee's reaction was what Jamie was hoping
for. “I'm fine, doctor. I thought this
was a social, not professional visit.” Nevertheless, he held out his arms and
with no more protests went through the ordered exercises, testing his dexterity
and range of motion.
“Not bad, I'd say you're at 97% of
your--”
“Ninety eight percent, Dr. Jamieson,” he
was rapidly corrected by the stern-faced man, who then spoiled the effect by
drawing Jamie into a brief hug.
“Thanks, Jamie. Dr. Anderson told me the
way you handled me coming home made a huge difference in my recovery.”
Embarrassed, the doctor tried to
minimize his work. “That's what Nelson pays me for. Besides, you’re the one who
did all the hard work. Seriously, how do you feel?” His voice went down to a whisper, and he
looked toward the living room before asking, “I take it things went okay with Harry?”
At first Lee was going to toss another
joke, his normal response when questioned about his well-being. Nevertheless,
he knew this was too important to slough off. Moreover, even though Jamie was a
close friend, he was a doctor who could accept what was revealed in an
objective manner.
“I was climbing the walls, and if Chip
hadn’t been with me, no telling what I would've done. The trip coming home was
a nightmare. I had no control, I can't remember everything, just an
overwhelming sense of fear. I was scared about everything and everyone. Hell, I
was afraid of being afraid. Don't you
dear repeat this, but if he hadn't been there holding me up, carrying me all
this time I could never have made it.”
Lee's voice was becoming shaky as he
picked up a beer and took a long drink, taking time to regain control. Dr.
Anderson had cautioned his feelings would be easily exposed; for a while Lee
would be on an emotional roller coaster. She teased it wasn't PC to say, but ‘welcome
to the world of PMS.’
“Just remember it was the drugs and
brainwashing that caused the reactions. That person wasn't the real Lee Crane.”
“I know.
Still, all the fears I experienced, I couldn't believe I was capable of
having them.”
“Hell, everyone has his fears. The
difference is a coward lets the fears control him, and a brave man controls the
fears.”
Lee ran his hand through his now closely
cut hair absorbing Jamie's words, knowing his friend was correct. There was
still a little work left to be done with Dr. Anderson and he was grateful for
the gracious way the admiral had presented the situation, using his hands as
the excuse that prevented his return at present.
“Thanks, Jamie, just keep reminding me
over the next couple weeks. You’re a good friend, and not too bad of a doctor.”
“You’ve got plenty of friends, I'm glad
I'm one of them. You also have a father and brother on the patio, waiting for
us. Grab a couple cold ones and let's go join them.”
*****
With their stomachs filled the four men
watch the spectacular sunset while sipping their drinks. The conversation over
dinner had brought Lee up-to-date regarding Seaview
and the upcoming projects. Chip and Jamie contributed stories of a couple
of escapades by the crew, bringing forth several laughs from the men. Riley
still had not managed to pull off a prank that didn't backfire on him, much to
the delight of Ski and Pat. Those two still have the bragging rights among the
rates.
“Just be careful what you say around him
when you resume command. Don't give him any ideas. He worships your legend of
Master of the practical jokes,” Nelson warned.
“Excuse me, sir, no disrespect but I
believe I'm the prank master. I took the title away last summer when I--”
Lee jumped in shouting and laughing at
the same time, trying to prevent the recounting of a humiliating outcome.
“I'll relinquish the title temporarily,
Chip. However, remember I've had a lot of spare time to think of my revenge. So
you better sleep with one eye open when I return.”
They all toasted that challenge, content
that their group dynamics were well on the way to being back.
Nelson
and Chip exchanged glances that Lee picked up.
“What's going on between the two of you?
Is there a problem you’re keeping from me? It's not a good idea to be
whispering in front of a man who's been diagnosed as paranoid.”
“Oh great, now he'll keep bringing up,
‘I went wacko, you got to do my way or I'll have to go back to the loony bin.’
I figured it would be bad enough using the broken hands excuse to get the heavy
work.”
Jamie had just taken a sip and choked
hearing Chip’s words. Nelson and he closely watched Lee for his reaction. It
was quick to come. His mouth was drawn tight as he stared at Chip.
“Just what do you think you're doing
using words like wacko and loony bin, mister? Don't you know the proper term is
bonkers and funny farm?”
The young officers burst out laughing,
swiftly followed by a relieved admiral. Dr. Jamieson poured another shot for
Chip and Nelson then took the bottle inside with him to get the coffee. Asking
if anyone wanted more cake, Chip followed to help, the two men talking and
laughing as they entered the kitchen.
“Good to see Chip relaxing. These past
months have been hard on him, and I don't mean being in command.” Nelson was
watching Lee closely, concerned Lee would see some implied criticism about his
situation in his comment. He wanted to say so many things about his feelings
towards the young man, but it wasn’t in his nature to speak up.
“Chip’s been bailing me out of messes
since we were plebs. Now that I am well again, I can appreciate what he did for
me. He's one of a thousand.” Lee cleared his throat, building up the courage to
continue. “And so are you, sir.” He leaned forward, with an intensely serious
look on his face. “Admiral, in the kitchen you said I was Seaview’s captain. I
can't tell you how much your faith in me means. I don't want to cause problems
for the Institute. News of my breakdown is bound to get around and you could
lose contracts and grants.”
“First of all, I've told you before to
drop the ‘admiral’ and ‘sir.’ Harry is fine when we're in private. I think
we’re past the ‘father’ stage, but I do reserve the right to ground you.”
That got a chuckle out of Lee. Nelson was procrastinating, he was a person
used to emphatically expressing his opinions, however when dealing with his
personal life he became reticent.
“It's great to see you so at ease around
us. You had me scared, I - I thought I lost you, and that was not acceptable. I
can bully Chip, but you -- you have a remarkable ability to tell me you where I
can go, especially of course, when I become fixated on a project. We're a good
mix professionally… and personally. I hope you know what our relationship means
to me.
“As for your ‘breakdown’, bilge water!
Guess we need to drill this into your thick skull, you were injured. Decker
attacked your brain, only instead of using an iron pipe he chose drugs and
words.”
With unspoken agreement, the subject was
dropped and the festive evening continued.
Nelson settled back in his chair
lighting a cigarette. “Will can't complain too much, it’s my first one of the
evening.” He cast an eye over Lee who seemed peaceful sitting with his long
legs stretched out in front and hands folded over his stomach. “How much you
want to bet Chip comes back with another slice of cake?”
“Sucker bet! Did you see when he cut it; his piece was
double the size of ours.” Lee shook his head snorting, “Then so
self-righteously informed us he wasn't taking seconds. Where does he put it
all?”
The admiral shrugged his shoulders,
unable to answer. He took a long drag on his cigarette and slowly let the smoke
out.
“Are you anxious about tomorrow? If it’s
too much you can delay for a while. The
crew wants to see you again, Lee, but nobody wants to hurry anything.”
“No, I'm fine.” Lee stopped and answered
again, this time truthfully. “Maybe a little nervous. I’ve been looking at
their photos and reading everything they wrote. I need to see them face-to-face
and hear their voices to put the nightmare behind me. If I can get past
Kowalski, the rest will be a piece of cake,” he said, grinning at the cliché.
*****
Chip and Jamie had taken notice of the
body language of the two men on the deck. They puttered around the kitchen
putting away food and cleaning the dishes, allowing the private conversation to
continue. When Chip saw Nelson light up a cigarette and smile at Lee, he
figured it was time to return. Chip
walked out carrying a tray of mugs, spoons and napkins followed by Jamie handling
the coffee. Both the seated men took notice of the generous slice of cake. When
everyone settled down, Lee brought up an earlier point not answered.
“Admiral, I asked you a question,
earlier, and never got an answer. Is there anything wrong with the boat? The
way you and Chip were looking at each other, I wondered.”
“No, no, Seaview is in A-1 condition. I didn't want to spoil your good mood
by bringing up a touchy subject.”
Lee jumped in, fearing the worst. “The
Navy is giving you a hard time about my reinstatement, aren't they? They're
threatening to withhold contracts if I’m in command.”
“Stop right there, mister! Did I or did
I not say you are the captain of Seaview?
Are you calling me a liar?”
“No sir, sorry sir, no excuse, sir,”
came back the standard military response. A mischievous twinkle appeared in
Lee's eyes. “You see, sir, I went bonkers and have been spending time at the
funny farm ….”
This time Chip choked on his drink.
After a good chortle, the admiral became serious. “I -- we --wanted to talk
about your future with ONI. I know they had their people at Dreyfus last week
debriefing you, their shrink came at you pretty hard.”
“He definitely didn't have Dr.
Anderson's bedside manner.” Lee couldn't keep the frown off his face recalling the
experience. “Glad I was one of the good guys, hate to see what they do to the
enemy.”
Nelson finished his scotch and
absentmindedly lit another cigarette unmindful of the doctor’s glare. “Admiral
Johnson called me two days ago. The report said you are fit to resume accepting
assignments. They kindly suggested waiting for a couple weeks till your hands
completely heal.” The disgust he felt was evident in his voice.
Chip was unable to keep silent any
longer. “We want to know your plans. Personally, I like to tell them where they
can stick their missions.”
Lee stirred his coffee, watching the
spoon go around and around, always coming back to the same starting point.
Looking up he saw three concerned faces waiting for his answer. He put the cup
down untasted.
“Dr. Anderson said I was very lucky this
time. Decker messed up concerning Chip, and never manipulated any lies for him.
I had someone I trust with my life to keep me anchored. He didn't realize Chip
would come after me so fast and that caused him to cut the conditioning short
by several days. I probably won't be so lucky the next time.
“Thanks to some very special people in
my life I was raised to believe that we all have a duty to our country. I've also come to realize there are full-time
agents who are just as qualified, maybe even more so. My answer to Admiral
Johnson will be to be very, very sure I'm the last hope. However, I won't say
no when I'm needed. That's all I can promise you, hopefully it’s enough to ease
your minds.”
All was quiet as the others processed
his answer. They knew Lee's make up and would have been surprised at any other
response. They finished the coffee and
began to make noises about leaving. With the doctor’s practiced eye, he decided
it would be wiser to drive the admiral to his bungalow on the Institute
grounds. Lee was steady on his feet having only two beers and one small scotch
and Chip seemed sober enough to get them both off to bed.
*****
Sometime during the night the phone
ringing awakened Chip. It was Security reporting on an unauthorized presence on
the dock. They were keeping an eye on him until receiving further orders. Chip
grabbed his clothes, putting them on while firing off questions. “Do you have a
good description of him? Are you sure he's alone? How close is he to Seaview? Can you see if he carrying any
weapons?” Finally, he paused for breath, allowing the security officer a chance
to answer.
“Sir, he is standing in the shadows
looking at the boat. I don't think he means to do any harm, seeing that it’s
Commander Crane. We're just not sure how to approach him, well, considering his
condition and all.”
Chip thought quickly trying to figure
out if he should have the guard challenge Lee. “Keep an eye on him, but don't
let him see you. I'm leaving the house now. And as to his ‘condition,’ Chip
growled, “he's only homesick.” Chip disconnected and ran for the car.
He had figured out his plan before
reaching the docking area. Making no secret of his presence, Chip whistled as
he walked down the ramp. Spying Lee standing off to the side, half hidden by
some crates, he stopped within hearing distance.
“It's a lovely night for a walk and what
better sight to behold then Seaview.
There’s only a skeleton crew on board, wouldn't be too difficult to slip on her
undetected. I’ve heard that’s been done
before.”
Lee came out of the shadows. “That better not be the case, Mr. Morton, or
I'll be up the watch section’s six.”
Chick turned casually, as if surprised
to see Lee. “Oh, hi, Skipper, couldn't sleep and went out for a stroll?”
Lee’s voice quivered a bit as he
answered, “I had to see her, Chip. I needed to check out my gray lady.”
“Can't blame you, she's quite a sight in
the moonlight. It’s getting late. Ready
to head back?”
“Yeah, let's go.” He stood unmoving, his
eyes on the majestic submarine.
Chapter 24
Lee stood on Stearns Wharf watching Seaview and her crew leave on their
month long cruise. He felt it was best to remain out of sight; Chip was the
captain and he would not intrude on his command status by appearing at Seaview’s departure. He reluctantly
conceded to himself it was difficult watching the men board the boat while he
was forced to stay behind. There was something caught in his throat as he
turned away and headed back to the car where Angie was waiting. She would be
driving him back to the clinic. Buckling his seatbelt, he sat back and turned
towards the attractive brunette.
“Thanks for the lift. I could have had
someone from the motor pool drive me, you didn't have to bother.”
“It got me away from the office, Lee. To
tell the truth, I wanted to meet Dr. Anderson, she must be a magician.”
He was a little hurt that Angie thought
he had been in such terrible shape, until she added, “How else could she keep
you from disappearing from the clinic? Jamie needs to get her secrets.” Angie
batted her eyelashes with great exaggeration before breaking off snickering.
“I leave this joint for a couple days
and everyone turns into a comedian! Keep those pretty brown eyes on the road,
Ms. Williams. I'm in no mood to extend my medical leave.”
“Yes, sir!” Traffic was increasing so
she turned her attention to it, leaving Lee to reflect on the meetings he’d had
with the crew over the last ten days.
The admiral had arranged for Kowalski to
show up before the others. It was awkward for both men at first. After a couple
of false starts, Lee told Ski what he’d heard. He was horrified the skipper
could believe he wanted to hang him. By calming the man down, Lee was able to
work through his own distress. Kowalski was followed by many of the others
whose voices had been on the tapes. Lee
became more at ease, and his reaction helped erase the discomfort the others
felt. Soon it was back to normal, Riley putting his foot in his mouth as usual,
and the chief threatening him with a month of bilge duty if he opened it one
more time.
Two nights ago, Chip had invited
O'Brien, Maxwell and Sparks over for pizza and poker. That night went smoother.
Lee simply gave a brief rundown why he couldn't accept the truth about the
recordings at first. The important thing was he was able to be at ease with
these officers.
Yesterday he’d been invited to an
impromptu get-together at one of the crew’s favorite bars in downtown Santa
Barbara. Standing there, discussing how
the Dodgers were doing, seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
When Angie drove through the gate, Lee
asked the guard for Dr. Anderson’s whereabouts.
They were both disappointed to find out she’d gone to Los Angeles for a
conference. Angie said she’d take a rain
check, and waved her hand out the window all the way down the driveway.
Now he was back to being alone for the
next month, or so he’d thought. Rick
stopped by to give him the good news -- he was being discharged the following
Monday.
The week went quickly until that day
came.
“Well Lee, I am extremely happy to see
you leaving us. I'll admit to you now; I had my doubts for a while that you
would sufficiently recover to regain your command status. I should never have
done so. You have my cell number, call if you run into any trouble and we'll
talk. Please try not to overdo your first day back. Dr. Jamieson and I agreed
to limited duty the first week at four hours and then the next at six hours.”
“That will be fine; I can cross off
things on my condo to-do list with my light work schedule.” He held out his
hand. “Thanks, Doc.” His voice caught, but he recovered
quickly. “If you want to join the gang
for the Army Navy game this fall, I won't make you sit in the corner.”
“Careful, you might ruin your reputation.
Get out of here, your ride is waiting.” The doctor watched the young man turn
and walk out the door. Even without a uniform, you could see the military
bearing; back straight, shoulders pulled back and a firm stride. Most of all,
there were the clear, focused eyes, no longer looking lost.
When he was well out the door, the
doctor punched her hands into the air and said, “We did it!”
She
was sending another man back into the world strong and whole again, ready to
take on whatever came his way. There had been something special about this one.
It was more than his commitment to duty. She felt privileged to be part of his
recovery, for the world needed men like Lee Crane and Chip Morton. She would
miss him and their arguments.
I
just pray that the evils in this world will pass him by for a while.
****
Coming home after four hours of pushing
papers around, Lee grabbed a bottle of water and walked out to the deck. The
picnic table needed re-staining, but that could wait for a while. A run on the beach followed by a short swim
before starting the boring, but necessary task would be a good compromise.
Taking off his shoes, with his long legs spread out in front of him and his
head leaning back, he enjoyed the sun beating down on him. Maybe a brief nap
before the job and swim would be a better idea; after all, the job wouldn’t
take long.
His eyes closed and the next thing he
knew the front doorbell was ringing. Damn! Four hours, how could he have fallen
asleep for that long? Not bothering to put on his shoes, Lee went inside
muttering to himself. If Jamie or Chip
arranged for a babysitter, I'm going to kill them. He jerked open the door
and was surprised to see Jimmy, one of the guards, accompanied by a
well-dressed young stranger.
“Sir, this is Mr. Kunze, who insists he
needs your signature for some items that must be hand delivered to you.”
Worried about Lee's momentary stunned silence at seeing the men, the guard
continued, “Don't worry sir, they’ve been scanned.”
“I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone.
Please come in, Mr. Kunze. You said you had a package for me?” Lee stepped back
to allow the two men to enter.
“Perhaps I should explain.” The stranger
spoke with a heavy German accent. “I'm a junior member from the law firm of
Nussbaum and Richter. Herr Nussbaum has entrusted me to carry out the final
wishes of Professor von Kempner. I beg your pardon; I must first ask you a
question to verify your identity.”
Jimmy, jumped in, arguing that of course
Commander Crane was Commander Crane, didn't he think NIMR would know the
captain of Seaview, and Admiral
Nelson's right-hand man?
“Let the man do his job, Jimmy. He has
his orders just like you do.” Having diffused the situation Lee asked the
lawyer to continue.
“Danke, Herr Crane.” He fell back for a
moment to his native tongue, not only awed being in America but by being
singled out by the head of the firm to ensure everything was properly handled.
Taking a steadying breath, he resumed his task, switching to English. “I
apologize, we are a small but old firm and there is seldom a reason to travel
out of the country. Please, can you tell me the last wine you presented to the
professor?”
Lee had no trouble with the answer; the
day was etched in his memory for it was the last time he was ever to see his
friend alive. “A Cabernet Sauvignon, Silver Oak from the Alexander Valley. We
enjoyed a Riesling from his cousin’s winery with lunch.” He smiled at the
youthful attorney showed he was not offended.
“Excellent.” Respectfully he asked the
guard to bring in the crate from the van. “It is the wine von Kempner promised.
Your embassy was very helpful with the red tape. I also have a parcel; it is
papers our client wanted to make sure were delivered safely into your hands.”
Lee called out to Jimmy to bring the
crate through the garage into the kitchen then motioned Kunze to follow him.
The guard opened the outer shipping
container in the driveway and wheeled the smaller one into the kitchen where he
removed the box top. It wasn’t a full
case, nine bottles instead of the customary twelve, Jimmy thought, but it was a
pretty good gift all the way from Germany, anyway.
Mr. Kunze pulled a sturdily wrapped
bundle from his briefcase and handed it to Lee, along with a thick pile of
legal documents signifying the receipt of the two items.
“Do you have to go right back, Herr
Kunze? Sure you couldn’t wrangle a
couple of days to visit?”
“Ah, I would love to, Herr Crane, but I
am afraid my employers would not permit it.”
“Just tell them you couldn’t find me
right away. That ought to get you a
couple of days to visit Hollywood.”
The young man’s face lit up. “Hollywood!
Ja! Perhaps I could see the
famous Kardashians!”
Lee hid his smile. “Oh, no doubt. Well, whatever you decide, enjoy your trip
back to Germany, Herr Kunze, and thank you for everything.”
*****
Fortunately, the designer included a
wine cooler when building the condominium. It would hold the eight bottles with
no trouble. Lee removed a beer from the refrigerator and carried it, along with
the package, into the living room and sat down on the recliner.
The
wine has plenty of time to settle before Seaview returns. We'll open a bottle
to toast the professor's memory.
He vividly remembered his friend’s
confession over the bottle they drank at lunch, ashamed at having consumed
three of the remaining twelve while writing his memoirs.
Lee cut the tape holding the thick brown
wrapper closed. Pausing to take a long drink of beer, his heart began to beat
faster, could this be a copy of the manuscript?
Finish
opening it you fool, whatever it is, von Kempner felt it was important enough
to go through all the hassle of hand delivery. Well, here goes nothing.
Lee pulled back the heavy gauge paper
and found an envelope addressed to him taped to a blank piece of paper. Trying
to rip it off the sheet, he tore it, revealing the bottom half of the next
page. The typed sheet had writing on the margin he recognized as his friend’s
distinctive penmanship. In a flash, Lee recalled the professor’s actual words, a
copy of the manuscript of his life’s
work to be sent to the United States.
Oh
my God, this has to be the original.
He ripped open the letter; it was short
and cryptic. Von Kempner was sorry for the ruse of sending off a copy with Lee,
he knew Lee was capable of defending himself. It would distract anyone who
might be watching. If the unforeseen happened, and the book was taken, the
original could then be safely sent to Lee after the professor's death.
It then went on in a similar vein as the
conversation in Bitburg. Remember the
first time we met, you had so many questions? I told you never to stop
questioning, to look always for the hidden truths, in science or in life.
Always keep searching; you will be surprised at what you can find. Things are
not always as they seem at first glance.
He concluded his letter with blessings for a long and happy life and
hoped whenever Lee saw the wine, he would remember their last conversation.
The earlier plan of a jog and then work
on the picnic table faded from Lee's mind.
The wine in the kitchen was forgotten as Lee's attention turned solely
to the manuscript. He started to read.
After two straight hours, he stopped to
make a pot of coffee and rest his eyes.
The professor had apologized for getting bogged down in the scientific
aspects, making the book seem more like a textbook than someone's memoirs. Lee
was able to follow for the most part, but between the technical jargon and all
the handwritten notes in the margins he was studying for any secrets, his mind
was in overdrive.
While waiting he went to the patio to
retrieve his forgotten shoes and stretched for a few minutes to work out the
kinks. So far, he had not come across anything not already known or easily
found out. After a couple more toe touches, he was ready to return to the book.
Refilling the large travel cup and
choosing a Red Delicious apple to snack on, Lee resumed reading.
The ringing of his phone interrupted his
concentration. Lee was shocked that it was after 2300.
“Lee, I took a chance you were still up.
Would you like to meet for breakfast before work tomorrow?”
“Thanks Angie, maybe the next time.” His
mind was only partially on the call.
“You sound a little strange. Is
everything all right?” Angie tried not to sound concerned, knowing how he hated
being fussed over.
“I'm just trying to figure out a mystery
I'm reading. Thanks for the offer, let’s make a definite date for the day after
tomorrow.” He realized Angie would keep pushing now that she sensed something
was wrong. Hopefully, making plans would put her off.
“Well, okay. I guess I'll see you in the
morning at nine. Don't stay up too late reading. If it's that riveting, maybe I
can borrow it when you through. I love mysteries.”
“Night, Angie.” After he had hung up, he
picked up the apple core and empty mug and went to the kitchen. Realizing he
would never get to sleep on an empty stomach, he poured himself a bowl of
Cheerios, added a sliced up banana and ate standing up. A good night’s sleep
would clear his head.
*****
Lee easily fell asleep but was disturbed
by strange images whose identities were at the tip of his tongue. Perhaps the
frustration caused him to wake less than three hours later. Knowing it was
fruitless to try to go back to sleep, he drew on his robe and returned to the
living room and the manuscript. After another hour of reading, he got up and
made a pot of coffee and pulled out a pad and paper from the desk drawer. The manuscript contained what appeared to be
underlined letters in the margin comments, but it was difficult to be sure. The
professor’s handwriting was becoming shaky. It was possible the marks were from
uncontrollable tics of the pen. Had he been trying to write ‘L C,’ Lee Crane? Or could the ‘C’ stand for carbon?
He copied the other letters, but for
now, they remained a mystery. Sometimes later, he stopped to refill his cup and
toasted a bagel. Taking them both out to the deck, he relished the early
morning breeze. His head was swimming, however, he refused to quit. He had at least another hour or so of
reading.
He recalled Decker’s words on how the
professor’s mind started to wander towards the end. What Lee saw was solid and
reliable science, not some pie-in-the-sky ideas, for
the unproductive project von Kempner was working on. The writing wasn't as polished now, but the
concepts were defendable. The professor was intertwining more antidotes in the
latest chapters, knowing the end was near.
Lee was pleased to find so many stories involving his time with his
friend. What was puzzling, or maybe not, was here in this section some of the
inconsequential facts were incorrect. Only Lee, and perhaps those whose names
were being mentioned, would catch the mistakes. Taking a final lungful of fresh
air, he went back inside to another mug of coffee and the remainder of the
manuscript.
A half-hour later Lee was pacing up and
down the living room floor, tapping the now necessary magnifying glass onto the
pages. He would stop, use the magnifier and record a letter or symbol, then
resumed his frantic walking. He came to an abrupt halt. He had come to a section discussing wine
making, the pages seeming totally out of place, mainly for the length written
about the irrelevant subject.
I've
checked it out on Internet and it seems correct, but I'll verify the process.
Whom do I know and trust I can show this to get some answers? There has to be
something here, this portion does not belong in the book. Don't want to send it
to ONI if it turns out I'm imagining things.
He continued his reading only to stop
minutes later at the line, “my nephew sends me a case each year….” Something
was wrong; he distinctly remembered what was said at their lunch.
“It
is from my cousin’s winery in Hessische-Bergstrasse. He sends me a case every
year. I have eight bottles left of the vintage we had with our meal. I confess
to drinking three of them while working on my book. When I'm gone, I have
arranged for them to be shipped to you, as a final token of my friendship.”
Lee walked into the kitchen and now
stood staring at the crate. At the time, he thought how he would treasure the
remaining eight bottles. Eight bottles.
He blinked and rubbed his tired eyes.
Eight
bottles … but there are nine bottles here.
Dropping to the floor on his knees, Lee
cautiously removed the first bottle from the straw nest. It looked like a
regular bottle of wine. He held it up to the ceiling light -- nothing strange
from what he could tell.
Gently he placed it in the center of the
table and withdrew the second one. He repeated the examination with the same
results. Soon there were four containers sitting on the table and he was
beginning to question his memory. Reaching for the bottle in the center of the
crate the professor's words leapt into his head.
“Keep searching until you get to the
root of your problems.”
Mentally crossing his fingers, Lee
carefully extracted the wine and held it up to the light. Was it his
imagination or didn't the bottle seemed different? Not the wine, it was the
same color, but the bottle itself. It felt slightly heavier. He took one off
the table for comparison. He could swear there was a very slight difference in
weight. He would check it out on the lab scale to be sure.
He turned the bottle upside down,
tapping the base. Yes, he was sure it sounded different. He dampened a
dishtowel and wiped off the dust, paying close attention to the bottom. Lee
detected a slight imperfection in the glass, a small bubble. It almost looked
like a plug. Was it possible? He removed the rest, one by one, carefully
inspecting each. To be sure, he looked for the bubble on the first four.
Nothing, no bump or marks of any kind.
Lee picked up the phone and called NIMR
Security, requesting someone be sent to his condominium. He disconnected and
then called ahead to the lab to ensure someone would be there to x-ray the
object. Maybe he was still being paranoid, but he wasn't taking any chances.
Taking the bottle into the bedroom to
keep it in his sight he quickly dressed and placed the wine into his briefcase,
locking it. By the time the guards rang the doorbell, Lee was ready.
“Adams, I want you to take this book to
the Security Locker and check it in.
Then come back here and keep watch, no one goes in until I return.
Monroe, you're coming with me to the lab. All this has been sitting out since
yesterday and I don't think anyone is searching, but I'm going to err on the
side of caution.”
At the last minute, he chose a second
bottle and handed it to Monroe. Making sure he set the security alarm, Lee and
the guard got into his Cobra, followed by the second security officer.
*****
“What can I do for you, Lee?”
“Tell me if I'm crazy or not. I need
these bottles x-rayed, paying close attention to the base.”
Lee had a worried look on his face. Was
he making a fool of himself? He trusted the professor; something had to come
out of his experience in Germany. He chewed his lip and crossed his arms as he
waited impatiently. von Kempner had been so concerned he was being watched; all
those things he said to Lee about searching and not giving up, and the two
copies of the manuscript with the underlined letters; it had to add up to this
bottle.
“Should be ready in a minute. I took
pictures at several different angles, “the technician informed Lee while
handing back the bottles. Turning on the
lights for the viewing panel, the tech snapped the films into place.
Lee pointed excitedly. “There is
something in the first one! Looks like a tube of some sort.”
“It measures three inches in length and
about a half inch in width. Do you know what's inside?”
“The final chapter to a brilliant man's
life.”
Chapter 25
Lee sat with his feet on the coffee
table savoring the quiet. The last 48 hours have been hectic. He had his
revenge on Admiral Johnson when he placed the 0300 call to him. He wished he
could have seen the admiral’s expression upon hearing “what the hell do you
mean calling me at this hour” when the ONI director discovered it was Lee on
the phone. The manuscript and bottle of wine where now safely with the
scientists that would analyze the sample and decode the professor’s message. To
Lee's eyes, some of them appeared to be a formula. Others would read the pages
to determine if any underlined letters have been missed.
He had also contacted Helga in Germany.
He could hear the relief in her voice as he explained the reason for the call.
“Herr Crane, I didn't know what to do
when you were missing. I try to reason with Herr Professor but his mind was too
affected by his illness. He was a genius. How could I, a housekeeper, tell him
to turn over the discovery right away?”
“Where was he keeping it safe? He was
overly concerned with being watched and the house searched.”
“The experiment was completed over a
year ago, and the small sample was safely placed in the bottle at that time. He
simply kept it among all the other wines in the cellar.”
Lee shook his head in amazement. It was
in the house at the time of his visit and von Kempner hadn't said a word. It is
fortunate he hadn't, concerning what had happened to Lee.
“He truly was writing his memoirs and
used it as a means to let me know about the compound.”
“He told me there are some meaningless
letters thrown in,” Helga warned Lee. “Herr von Kempner said with the material
in hand, the incorrect ones could be easily spotted. I think he enjoyed playing
spy. He told all he talked to how his last work was a failure and his illness
prevented any further work.”
“About the bottle…”
“Ach, that was easy. My brother Franz
has been blowing glass as a hobby most of his life. He got a mold of the wine
bottle the professor's cousin used and simply blew into it, creating the
special bottle with a couple of changes, as you discovered. The heavier bottom
and deeper punt allowed the opening to be made. The cylinder was placed inside
and sealed. I visit my brother once a week, so no one thought it was strange to
see me taking a basket of bakery items to him.” Helga sounded very pleased with
her role in the caper.
Lee smile, recalling his friend’s love
of spy novels. Still, he was puzzled over all the chances that were taken by
such a cautious man.
“Frau Müeller, I can't believe the risks
he took.”
“The doctor explained it to me. He was
still brilliant, however at times he reasoned as a child. The part of his brain
affected controlled his common sense.”
“This means he had no understanding how
something so easily could have gone wrong.
Danke, Helga, for all you did. I know
Herr Professor thought highly of you. If there is ever anything I can help you
with, please contact me.”
Her voice was growing thicker. “Danke, Herr Crane. He was a great man and
will be missed by many.”
*****
Lee sent off a message to Admiral
Johnson, who had been demanding all nine bottles in case they contained other
items of interest. Now with Helga’s
confirmation of only one bottle, Johnson should get off his back.
Chuckling as he poured another coffee
and sat down on a patio chair, he thought to himself, so much for a relaxing first week back. He should grab a towel and
spend the late afternoon down by the water. That should pacify both doctors.
Unfortunately, the picnic table still needed staining, and he had some diving
gear that needed repairs; there were many items on the to-do list still
unchecked.
Okay,
Crane. Compromise. The staining, then the swim. Tomorrow you should radio
Seaview to let Admiral Nelson and Chip know about the latest events. Better to hear it from me rather than
Johnson.
He could imagine Chip’s frown at the
thought of anyone from ONI talking to Lee. He had made a promise and he would
keep it. There was no further need for him to be involved in the case. Humming
to himself, he opened the can of redwood stain and started to work.
*****
The rest of the month passed quickly and
mostly uneventfully. A short article
appeared in several scientific journals of Professor’s von Kempner last
discovery. Not many details were given except to say all research papers were
in the hands of the American government. Admiral Johnson and others in the
intelligence world figured the notice would draw any attention away from Frau
Müeller and Lee, thinking it might be possible that Decker would try something.
It wasn't a lie, part of the code was a password, allowing them access to his
work.
Lee was
growing anxious for the return of Seaview. Radio messages had zoomed back and forth,
most of Chip's were complaining how dull the mission was, likening it to the
seal count they were required to do last year. A snide comment about no
mermaids sighted brought a threat of revealing some X-rated material concerning
a certain blonde Ensign and a stripper.
The work at
the Institute was similarly boring, as paperwork tended to be. One bright spot
was a proposal Lee had read and would strenuously recommend for acceptance, and
not only because it called for numerous dives off St. Thomas.
Communication
had received confirmation for Seaview's
arrival at 0300. Lee had planned to be at the dock to meet the boat; instead,
he’d received a message containing in order from Admiral Nelson that he
expected Commander Crane for breakfast at 0900 at his bungalow and did not
require his presence any earlier. Disappointed, but realizing the wisdom of the
order, he stayed away. The officers would be busy and the welcome, while
appreciated, would lengthen the debarking. Lee felt like he did at Christmas
Eve, tossing and turning in bed and having a hard time sleeping knowing what
was in store in the morning.
He followed
Nelson's orders to the letter and showed up precisely at 0900. Nelson opened
the door and motioned him inside. The table was already set for two and the
food was being kept warm in the oven. Housekeeping was in top form as usual. He
was slightly surprised Chip had not been invited.
“0900 on the
dot. What time did you show up at the dock?” The admiral teased his captain,
knowing him very well.
Lee's eyes
were still shining bright from the sight of his gray lady. He grinned and
admitted to 0815.
“I didn't go
on board. The rates were busy unloading gear and performing maintenance. I
assume everything went smoothly.”
“Chip wouldn't
have it any other way. It was a tedious but necessary job of checking Hartford
Corporation’s equipment. We need to ensure there’s no issues when we receive
their yearly payment for the work.”
The admiral
wanted to be brought up to speed but also needed to be reassured Lee was safe
and not involved.
“I was told
that if the tests produce the same results the professor obtained, it would
result in personal body armor with double the protection and half the weight.
He had even played around with applying it to boots to lessen foot and ankle
injuries and resulting amputations. Further,
his lawyer contacted the government to say that on von Kempner’s orders, he had
applied for patents now that the discovery was no longer a secret. He wanted it
to be available to all and not allow one or two companies to benefit.”
“You won't be
involved in any way with the project?” Nelson wore a worried look; he had just
gotten Lee back, whole and healthy.
“No, I washed
my hands of that when I turned over the items. Admiral--” he momentarily
stopped speaking at Nelson's stern look, then his lips twitched and continued.
“Sorry, I mean Harry, you might hear a rumor from the Security guys that I was
acting crazy. In my defense, I had no idea what von Kempner was involved in.
You know of his work with missiles, and I was concerned that its discovery
could be used as a weapon. Care had to
be taken to protect the secret. So I
went a bit overboard.” Lee was afraid the admiral might believe he wasn't ready
to resume command.
“I don't
imagine anyone would question your actions. You, more than most, know what
length some would go through to obtain such information.” He spoke rapidly to
assure the young man.
He did not
tell Lee how Dr. Anderson cautioned the other three men Lee might be overly
concerned people would judge his actions. The behavior wouldn't last long, once
the men under him started to obey his orders. He needed validation of the
others to prove his deeds were correct. Nelson would make sure he got all the
encouragement possible.
“The chief is
making sure your cabin will be spic and span ready for you.”
Lee loyally
defended his friend. “I can't imagine
Chip leaving a mess.”
“I heard
rumblings about cookie crumbs in the bunk.”
Lee burst out
laughing, followed by a low chuckle from Nelson. “Poor Chip, we do pick on him.
We’re meeting for dinner tonight.”
“I sometimes
think he does things just to make you laugh. Are you finished pushing your food
around? I'll walk with you to the office. By the way, did you come across any
interesting proposals?”
Lee was very
animated as he walked, describing the one request requiring lots of diving. The
admiral was content to listen and smile. He had a son back.
*****
Lee stuck his
head in to say hello to Chip and had a short visit. Confirming 1900 for dinner,
he left for his meeting, leaving Chip to finish the reports. Later in the day,
he stopped by Sick Bay knowing Jamie would be searching him out before the day
was over.
He sat down on
the corner of the desk, snatching a cookie off the plate. “Good afternoon, Dr.
Jamieson. I heard your trip was uneventful since that trouble magnet captain
wasn't on board.”
The doctor
pointed to the coffee pot. “Help yourself, but keep your mitts off my cookies.
I should've known the peacefulness wouldn't last. Please tell me this is a
social visit.” Jamie moved his chair and placed his feet up on the desk.
“Mostly
social. Anything I need to be aware of regarding the crew?”
“No, two
splinters removed and one minor burn on Cookie’s thumb. What about you,
anything I should know?”
“If I give my
standard answer, would you believe me?” Lee got up and wandered around the
office. He stopped and pretended to be fascinated by an open book on the side
table.
“For once,
yes, I would.” Gesturing towards the book Jamie, added, “I didn't know you were
interested in the treatment for ringworm.”
Lee looked up
in a hurry. “Ringworm! Don't tell me one of the crew….”
Jeannie
interrupted before he could become troubled. “I told you, the crew was in good
shape. Baxley called this morning, his son was sent home; he wanted a second
opinion.”
Lee had a
sheepish grin as he apologized, which Jamie brushed off. “I believe we were
discussing your health.”
“I'm fine,
doctor, well rested and not a black and blue mark in sight. Before you ask, I
had breakfast with the admiral, made dinner plans with Chip, and have now had
coffee and cookies with you. And no, I'm not involved with the professor’s
discovery. Satisfied?”
The playful
banter was back between the two officers. The doctor hoped it would continue
throughout the next trip. Rinsing out his cup, Lee left with a promise to stop
by for a drink after work tomorrow.
Returning to
his office, Lee picked up his phone, then was surprised to see Chip standing in
the doorway. Checking the time, he looked at his friend with a question on his
face.
“What's up,
it's 1715, do you need to cancel dinner?”
“Just the
opposite, the rest of the report can wait until tomorrow. I need some fresh
air. Why don't we get an outside table at Appleton's Grill and have a couple
beers before dinner?”
Lee was
becoming used to this behavior. He understood what Chip was doing; they needed
to talk.
“I've got a
better idea. I’ll stop and get some steaks while you go home and change.
There's salad fixings in the fridge and potatoes we can toss on the grill. I
put in a 12 pack of beer yesterday, all chilled and ready to be drunk.”
Chip was
relieved Lee wasn't ticked off over being checked up on. Except for a brief
visit earlier, he’d managed to keep away, controlling his mother hen instincts.
“Sounds like a
plan, let get out of here.” They walked out the building side-by-side, one
blonde, one dark-haired, brothers just the same.
*****
Over the first
beers, Chip described how tiring the cruise was. The most excitement they had
was when Cookie's hand slipped taking out a tray of biscuits, burning his
finger. Dropping the bread, he’d let out
a string of curse words that have the galley crew applauding.
“When I asked
about the unusual use of profanity, he became embarrassed and admitted he was
upset because he just chewed out a rate yesterday morning for doing the same
thing.”
“Definitely a
boring trip, Chip. To be honest, I hope the next one dealing with the Jonas
grant is the same.”
Lee picked at
the label on his bottle, ill at ease at confessing his lack of confidence. This
was an alien feeling for him, and he was unsure how to handle it.’
Chip had been
smiling when he told the story; now he was serious, knowing how important his
response would be to Lee.
“Don't start
second-guessing yourself. Dr. Anderson said you were ready and so do I. There
isn't a man aboard that doesn't respect and trust in you. You have an intuition
for when there is danger. They know you would do everything to protect them and
Seaview. I'll be standing right by
your side, until you find your way again.” Chip leaned forward and placed his
hand on Lee's knee. “I'm deadly serious.
The men will follow you anywhere and so will I. Your instincts will
guide you, just stick to them.”
Lee couldn't answer,
his throat was too tight. He settled for a grin and a handshake.
After several
minutes, Chip broke the silence.
“I don’t know
about you, but I'm getting hungry. Why don't you start the grill and get us
another beer?”
*****
It was going to be a quick turnaround of
one week. Without any fanfare, Chip moved back into his old cabin. The
temporary XO, Tom Pierce, had been engaged to act as liaison officer for the
Jonas group. As promised, Sharkey had a crew in first thing and made sure the
captain’s cabin was spic and span.
Lee elected to come on board the night
before, wanting to keep his presence as low-key as possible. He casually
greeted those he met on watch, and they answered in kind. It was real, he was
finally getting HIS boat back. Gazing out of the Herculean observation windows,
his hand touching the frame as if to confirm it wasn't a dream, Lee was
momentarily saddened he had chosen the dark of night for his first visit. Soon,
however, in the morning light he would better be able to observe the sea before
him. Satisfied with his quick trip around the control room he scrambled up the
circular staircase, entering officer territory and his cabin.
Standing in the middle of the room, he
did a 360, confident everything was as he’d left it. The only items Chip had
reluctantly ordered removed were Lee's clothes, and tomorrow he'd bring them
back aboard. Going to the desk, he sat down and swiveled in his chair. Yep!
Squeak was still there. He bet the noise
had been driving Chip crazy. Lee moved his hand around the edge of the desk,
grinning when his finger located the nick produced by a bullet fired during a
struggle. His cabin hadn’t escaped being the scene for a fight or two. Neither had the control room; he thought back
to the ‘warm welcome’ he’d received from his unorthodox access when he
initially came on board. Later, Kowalski
had arrived with his bags, explaining Seaview
was different. It took the entire mission for the crew to get over their
soreness of the security check. Ski’s jaw still had a faded black and blue mark
when the boat docked.
That time when he entered the cabin,
there was the cold military institutional feeling one received at a new billet. The feeling was gone now. After moving
the desk lamp a centimeter to the left, Lee stood up and took a last look
around. He had been correct in his assumption; the room was unchanged, only the
man occupying it was different. A little older, a little wiser, and a little
sadder, he would resume command of the greatest submarine in the world.
*****
This is it! Lee adjusted his tie for the
eighth time and brushed off a nonexistent string from his uniform jacket as he
exited the car. He’d been surprised at being stopped at the last security booth, usually it was a brief glance
for verification and then he was waved through. Perhaps it was because one
guard was on the phone and the new man being overcautious. Never mind, he was
moments away from retaking his objective of the last several months, command of
Seaview.
He walked down the ramp and noticed an
unusual amount of activity on Seaview’s
deck. With a flush darkening on his skin, he realized that the entire crew was
pouring out of the hatches and lining up topside. Looking up, he saw Admiral Nelson and Chip
appear on the bridge, faces wreathed in smiles.
Squaring his shoulders, Lee crossed
slowly over the brow as Chief Sharkey placed a bosun’s pipe to his lips. One of the other chiefs shouted “Captain,
arriving!” As the shrill pipe began its
trill, the crew came to attention and saluted.
Lee raised his right hand and started
forward. He stopped sharply at the end
of the brow, turned and addressed the ensign, and then stepped aboard. He was home.
Captain Crane went up to the bridge and
in a firm and steady voice gave the orders to get underway. The crew scattered,
jumping to obey that long wished for order, not bothering to hide the smiles
from their faces. They had their skipper back.
Nelson gave Chip a ‘well-done’ smack on
the back, both grinning like the cats who ate the canaries. Lee had the widest
smile of them all. He had his crew and gray lady back. Together they would
explore the marvelously exciting wonders of the seas.
The road is long, with many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where, who knows where
But I'm strong, strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy - he's my brother
So on we go, his welfare is my concern
No burden is he to bear, we'll get there
Writer(s): B. Russell, B. Scott
Copyright: Music Sales Corporation, Music Sales Corp.