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 Brudermein 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.  waiting for something Suddenly there was an explosion of laughter and indistinguishable voices of men, women and children enjoying themselves.

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.