A Second Season story...   A story of sacrifice, friendship and forgiveness.

 

 

Coming Home

 

by Lynn

 

 

 

“Contact, Mr. Morton,” Kowalski reported from the sonar station.

 

“Hydrophones?”

 

“Profiles like our sub, Sir,” Patterson replied.

 

“Very well.  Sparks, make contact and verify the contact's Ident.”

 

“Aye, aye Sir.”

 

Chip reached for the mic.  “Contact Admiral, we're identifying the sub now.”

 

“Very well Chip, I'll be right there,” Admiral Nelson replied evenly, but Chip knew that Harry was as anxious as he was to get Lee back aboard Seaview.  Chip didn't know much about his mission, but when the dark headed Captain walked into his cabin two days ago he knew it was something big.

 

“Come in,” Chip said without raising his head as he signed off on one of the many department reports stacked neatly on his desk.

 

“Yes Chief,” he greeted, assuming his visitor was Chief Sharkey delivering the last report from the Engine Room.

 

There was no answer as a black onyx ring was placed on the middle of the report he was working on.  Chip sighed, lowering his head as he reached for the ring, studying it as he spoke.

 

“When do you leave?” he asked raising his eyes to see Lee dressed in dark civvies.

 

“The chopper will be here within the hour,” Lee replied giving no other details, but the ring he delivered was enough for Chip to know it wasn't good.  Lee never took his ring on missions when a Disavowal was a possibility, as such no words were necessary to express the seriousness of the mission.

 

“When did you get the call?” Chip asked noting that Lee's expensive dive watch had been replaced by an efficient but far less expensive black digital watch.

 

“Just got off the video phone.  We've got to move fast on this,” Lee explained without divulging the mission details to his best friend.

 

“Alright.  Anything else you need from me?” Chip asked, giving Lee all his support and knowing that the last thing his best friend needed was a nagging mother hen giving him extra baggage to deal with.

 

“Just take care of things while I'm gone,” Lee added with a small tight smile, while retaining the tense concentration in his eyes as Chip knew he was in complete spy mode at this point.

 

“Always Buddy, you know that.”

 

Chip withheld the brotherly embrace he wanted to give, neither one willing to say “good bye” and instead stood extending his hand over the desk.

 

“Take care Lee.”

 

They shook hands firmly, not wanting to believe it could be for the last time, but neither one blind to the dangers either. 

 

“Always Buddy, you know that,” Lee returned with a grin that reached the twinkle in his eyes.   Chip rolled his eyes in an over-exaggerated move at the very private and unspoken joke that passed between them regarding the number of times Lee returned in need of a Band-Aid or worse.

 

Lee's grin turned to his “Hey, I'm invincible” smile as he closed the door behind him, giving Chip the time he needed to compose himself before checking in on the Control Room.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry sat at his desk apparently reading from a rather large book, but actually he was lost in thoughts far from the book's contents.  He'd been party to the video call Lee received both as a courtesy from Admiral Johnson of ONI, and in the interest of saving time, as the mission was so constricted by time that Gerald had ordered transportation en route even before placing the call.  The details of the mission were laid out complete with the DD; Disavowal Disclosure.  Those two words were enough to send his heart sinking to his feet, but the mission's importance couldn't be overlooked.  Seaview was operating in waters close enough to be reached by a relatively nearby carrier; just a chopper ride away from a fighter jet ride, refueled in the air once and landing on a second air craft carrier, the last leg a ride down a harness from a helicopter to a waiting sub, which would dispatch him to the mainland.  Lee's mission was to retrieve Intel from an operative too deep undercover for electronic exchange of information.  The on-going undercover operation was of highest priority and if Lee couldn't make his Extraction point he would be on his own as ONI couldn't risk the operative's cover being blown with a SEAL search and rescue operation.  Furthermore, Harry was issued orders to stand down to avoid any possibility of interfering with the operative's deep cover. 

 

A short rap on his cabin door broke his introspective moment as Harry cleared his throat and attempted to appear busy.

 

“Come in,” he called looking up to see Lee enter dressed and ready to leave in a pair of black jeans and a dark button up shirt; casual civvies, but dark enough not to glint in the moonlight.

 

“Looks like you're ready to go.”

 

“Aye Sir,” Lee said walking over and sitting on the corner of the Admiral's desk, a place Harry always made sure was cleared away for times such as this.

 

Lee picked up a stray pen and played with the retracting ball point, alternating between extending and retracting the pen, speaking comfortably as if he weren't getting ready to leave on a potentially dangerous mission.

 

“I just checked with the Control Room, Sparks says ETA is fifteen minutes.”

 

Harry glanced down at his watch and raised an eyebrow.  “We'll need to surface in another five minutes,” he noted.

 

“Chip's all over it,” Lee replied as Harry sat back in his chair allowing a grin to spread across his face.

 

“Did I ever tell you about the time I blew up my lab in my basement?”

 

Lee smiled, he knew Harry was giving him just what he needed right now; a moment away from the danger and intrigue... the last chance to relax before everything hit the fan.

 

You Sir?” he asked in disbelief with an accompanied chuckle.

 

“Well, I was only eight years old at the time and working with materials harvested from household items.”

 

Lee continued to retract and extend the pen, this calm before the storm was the place he needed to be just now, a place where everything was safe.  He was basically operating as a courier, no detailed profile to memorize and the mission parameters were already tucked neatly inside; he could afford to cut himself this luxurious moment of peace. 

 

Listening to Harry's deep baritone voice reminded him of the times when he used to lie in bed and listen to his mother and father talking in the living room.  When his door was ajar he could hear the mumbled sounds of adult conversation; calm, loving, secure and peaceful... like everything was right in the world.  He realized it wasn't the calmness of Harry's voice or the dramatic inflections as he told his story that elicited such memories, but the fact that Lee had indeed counted Harry's friendship in the same category as the affection he had for his own parents. 

 

His father died years ago and though his mother was supportive and loving, he could never burden her with the dangers of his career choices.  For years he bore those burdens alone, save for the times he let Chip in on some private pain that an ONI mission burnt into his soul, leaving scars that often healed slowly if at all; but it was different with the Admiral.  Harry had been there himself.  They didn't have to talk about the specifics, the danger, the intrigue and what it took out of him to have to defend himself with lethal force.  He never hesitated to do what needed to be done, but Lee figured whenever it got easy to take a life then it was time to walk away from ONI for good. 

 

So sitting here on the edge of Harry's desk was an anchor for him, a place to let the heavy concentration recede for just enough time to enjoy one last moment of peace.

 

“What were you trying to do anyway?” he asked as Harry sat back comfortably sharing the moment casually.

 

“I was recreating an experiment from school with a base and an acid each canceling the other out,” Harry explained.  “I used baking soda and vinegar which should have produced a benign mixture of water and sodium acetate, but mostly water.”

 

“Sounds harmless enough,” Lee chimed in.

 

“Well yes, but I measured at rather healthy proportions,” Harry said with a guilty grin, “And I wanted to see what would happen if I conducted the experiment in a see-through plastic container,” Harry said raising his hand to nearly cover his mouth as he finished his statement in a purposeful muffle.  “...With a lid,” he finished eliciting laughter from Lee.

 

“Well I got a nice explosive reaction,” Harry continued to Lee's continued grin. “...Which rattled the upstairs and sent James our butler running downstairs with a fire extinguisher in hand.”

 

“Were you hurt?” Lee asked slightly concerned for the eight year old Harry.

 

“No, I was smart enough to wear my safety goggles and since I had a little idea what might happen I observed the reaction from across the room.”

 

“And the moral of the story is?” Lee asked, setting the pen down on the desk with a chuckle.

 

“Don't mix baking soda and vinegar in a closed container,” Harry answered seriously and then laughed.  They both soaked in the moment until Harry spoke again. 

 

“It also means sometimes a benign experiment can go bad with just one mistake, so be prepared,” Harry added losing the humor of their earlier conversation and acknowledging the danger of the mission.

 

“I've got my safety goggles Sir,” Lee answered, reassuring Harry he was prepared.

 

Harry nodded then reached into his side drawer pulling out a small button size device, placing it on the desk between them.  Lee reached over and picked up the micro-transponder, holding it between his finger and thumb.

 

“What's this?” he asked, knowing Harry was under orders to stay out if things went wrong.

 

“It's the fire extinguisher,” Harry answered, promising without words to be there for Lee regardless of orders and knowing full well that Gerald expected it as well.

 

Lee held the transponder and cracked a small smile, then crossed his left leg over his right knee and worked the heel open.  He hid the device away and looked back at Harry, letting his expressive eyes say more than the few words he spoke.

 

“Thanks Admiral.”  The powerful moment was interrupted by the buzz from Harry's intercom.

 

“Admiral, we're on the surface; the chopper is eight minutes out.”

 

“Very well Chip, we'll be right there.”

 

Harry stood.  “It's dormant to preserve the battery, you'll have to activate it in case your government issue gets wet, damaged, or the like," Harry added offering unlikely but justifiable reasons for giving Lee the backup device.

 

“Aye Sir, I understand.”

 

Harry added a pat to his shoulder as they headed to the door.

 

“Very well, Lee.  We'll see you in a few days,” he said in full confidence, leaving behind his paternal concern and returning to his “I'm the Admiral” role.

 

Lee tucked the special moment deep inside to a private place that wouldn't get in the way of his mission and took back on the concentration and tenseness he had exhibited in Chip's office.  The instant he stepped out of the Admiral's cabin he was immersed back into his spy mode; his momentary reprieve left behind on the perch of Harry's desk.

 

* * * * *

 

Chip registered Harry's rapid steps down the spiral staircase and turned to fill him in on the latest news.

 

“It's the SSN Finback, Sir,” Chip replied to Harry's unspoken question.  “Sparks made contact with their skipper, Captain Hargrove.”

 

“Very well Chip.  Send my compliments and request immediate link-up with the Flying Sub.”

 

“Aye Sir,” Chip replied turning to make the radio call himself.

 

“Ah... Chip?” Harry said catching his elbow before he left and speaking in low tones.

 

“He's coming over on a stretcher, Sir... I'm told head injury.”

 

Harry sighed.  “Very well, carry on and have Jamie standing by.”

 

Chip nodded and made his way to Sparks' domain as Harry donned his leather flight jacket and walked to the open deck hatch of FS1's berth.  Chief Sharkey ascended up the ladder about the same time, handing a small clip board to the Admiral as he reported.

 

“She's ship-shape and ready to go Sir,” Sharkey noted, obviously in a good mood now that the Skipper was coming home, and unaware of the captain's current condition. 

 

“Very well Chief.  Grab your jacket, you're coming along,” Harry said signing off on the Pre-Flight and handing the clip board back to the COB.

 

“Aye, aye Sir,” Sharkey replied vigorously then headed with decidedly happy steps to retrieve his flight jacket.

 

* * * * *

 

A young seaman from the SSN Finback climbed the ladder and issued two clanks with his wrench to signal a clean coupling, then listened for the reply on the other side.  Two clanks reverberated as the seaman turned the wheel and opened the hatch, simultaneously moving to avoid the inevitable stream of water trapped in the mating skirt.  He took one look up and retreated down quickly, snapping to attention.

 

“Admiral on the deck,” the seaman announced as khaki clad legs descended the ladder to the deck below. 

 

“Admiral Nelson, this is both a surprise and an honor.  Welcome aboard Sir,” Captain Hargrove offered with a salute.  “If I'd known it was you Sir, I would have piped you aboard.”

 

“Thank you, Captain,” Harry offered returning the salute, as a detail neared with the stretcher.

 

Harry's lips tightened as he saw the dark hair of Lee Crane covered mostly with white bandages wrapped around his head and a blossom of blood revealing the impact area on the side of his forehead.  He was deeply unconscious while his normally healthy olive tone was replaced with a white pallor.  Hargrove noted Harry's concern and filled him in.

 

“Somehow he made it to the Extraction Point and activated his transponder, he's come around a time or two but wasn't lucid.  Doc here did the best he could to clean up the wound, but it's clear he suffered a significant blow to the head.”

 

Harry nodded not breaking his tight lipped expression, as the men expertly loaded him into the flying sub via a vertical lift.

 

“Very well, Captain Hargrove.  I want to express my gratitude for the excellent care you've given Commander Crane.”

 

“Aye Sir, it was our pleasure,” Hargrove replied, saluting and stepping away as the Admiral returned the military gesture and ascended the ladder. 

 

Captain Hargrove sighed.  Lee hadn't even recognized him; the two had first met several years ago at Pearl before his appointment to Seaview.  It was disconcerting to see his friend this way, unfortunately there wasn't anything else he could do but hope that Seaview' doctor was as good as Lee once bragged.

 

* * * * *

 

“The Skipper's all strapped in and ready to go Admiral,” Sharkey reported, returning to the co-pilot's chair.

 

“Very well Chief, let's take the Captain home,” Harry replied, careful to keep his concern in check.

 

The short voyage back to Seaview was quiet as Harry listened to the sound of Lee's unconscious breathing without any of the signs of wakefulness that the young man was famous for, continually beating Jamie's best sedatives when he felt the need to report.

 

The Admiral activated his throat mic and announced their arrival as the bay doors were opened, ready to dock FS1.  Harry shut down the flying sub as Sharkey ascended the ladder and opened the hatch for Jamieson, who made quick work of the ladder below.  He made a bee-line to his patient, taking his vitals and examining his responsiveness as Harry turned the pilot's chair to watch. 

 

Jamie didn't speak, but his furled forehead gave away his deep concern as he authorized the lift up the hatch. 

 

“Alright men, slow and easy,” he charged the detail as Captain Crane was raised through the deck hatch. 

 

The entire Control Room was amazingly quiet, save for the sounds of the boat's electronic operations as the Ratings attended their stations, while sneaking a concerned glance toward the Nose.  Chip was waiting at the top of the hatch, assisting Lee's stretcher up as they laid him on the deck, while Jamie ascertained how well he had weathered the vertical lift.

 

“Welcome home, Skipper,” Chip offered in a whisper, placing a hand to his shoulder as Harry followed up the ladder.

 

“Okay men, I need a nice smooth ride to Sickbay,” Jamie admonished as Lee was taken out the aft hatch.  Somehow, without even being informed the crew perceived his condition as precarious.  His head wound blared “danger” as much as the klaxons ringing during General Quarters, as did the unusual color of the Skipper's face.

 

Chip ran an uncharacteristic hand through his hair, something he wasn't known to do, blowing a worried breath out as Harry flanked him.

 

“Turn the Con over to O'Brien, Chip.  You're with me,” Harry ordered.  Chip acknowledged his order, then followed the Admiral as the two exited the somber Control Room.

 

* * * * *

 

Dr. William Jamieson carefully cut the bandage from Lee Crane's head.  He had already diagnosed a concussion with the obvious sign of one pupil larger than the other, and was more than a little concerned that he couldn't rouse the captain.

 

“Let's get the CT Scan going, Frank,” Jamieson indicated to his corpsman. 

 

The Admiral had spared no expense outfitting Seaview’s Sickbay and had procured a Portable CT Scan, something Jamie was immensely grateful for and had cause to use more times than he cared to think about.

 

“Aye Sir.”

 

Frank left to retrieve the rolling CT Scan from Med Stores as Jamie leaned over, speaking softly into Lee's ear, once again trying to rouse him.

 

“Skipper?  Can you wake up for me?”

 

Lee responded this time with an airy moan, as Jamie's eyes lightened in the hopes of conducting a neuro test.

 

“That's right Skipper, you can do it.”

 

The next sounds were a blend of unchecked pain and slurred words.

 

“Ja-mie... that... you?” Lee moaned though his eyes were still closed.

 

“It's me Skipper, don't move your head you're concussed,” Jamie advised.

 

“Shoe...”

 

Jamie's eyebrows furled trying to understand the off the wall word and immediately chalked it up to confusion, a common symptom of concussions.

 

“What's your name, Skipper?”

 

A frustrated airy breath followed as Lee screwed his eyes tight.

 

“Shoe...”

 

“Skipper...” Jamie started but Lee's face turned completely unresponsive as his breathing changed, indicating he was out again. 

 

Jamie sighed, unable to get the neuro check he desired as Frank returned with the CT and started setting the machine up for use.  With preparations underway, Jamie decided to take the opportunity to report to the Admiral and headed to his office where he had already corralled Harry and Chip.

 

“Concussion,” he announced as he entered the office, separated by a curtain wall that opened up to the main Sickbay.  “Just how bad I'll have to determine with a CT Scan, we're setting it up now, as far as I can tell there are no further injuries.”

 

“We heard you talking, did Lee wake up?” Harry asked, his concern barely veiled behind his piercing blue eyes and furled forehead.

 

“He woke momentarily, but I'm afraid he wasn't lucid; the only word he spoke was 'shoe',” he reported clearly confounded by Lee's attempted conversation.

 

Harry laughed while shaking his head.  “He was lucid Jamie.  He was telling you where the Intel was hidden.”

 

Understanding hit as Jamie nearly scoffed in unbelief then blew a breath out.  “I should have known.  I swear, he had the strength for one word and he uses it on the mission.”

 

The three men chuckled allowing the moment to release some tension, unfortunately the tension returned ten-fold when they heard Frank calling frantically from the exam room.

 

“Doc!  Doc!”

 

Harry and Chip followed Jamie back to his patient where they caught sight of Lee's body in full convulsions, shaking uncontrollably as his back arched sickeningly and his limbs tightened.  Frank threw himself over his body trying to keep him for falling off the table, as Jamie ran to the med cabinet selecting a vial and measuring out a hypo.

 

“Hold him down.  Chip, grab his legs!” Jamie ordered as Harry held down the opposite shoulder while Seaview's doctor expertly injected the Captain; within seconds Lee's body relaxed as Frank and Chip let off their hold.

 

“Alright, it's pretty apparent the concussion is significant, let's get the test done and determine how bad,” Jamie ordered as Harry and Chip stepped back.  “I'll let you know when he's settled into a bunk Admiral,” he continued, summarily dismissing both officers as Harry pursed his lips, not one to like being ordered out of any room; especially on his Boat.

 

“Very well, Jamie,” he conceded, knowing it was Jamie's way of giving his full attention to his patient.  “I'll take care of the Intel; if he wakes let him know I have it... he'll rest better.”

 

“Aye Sir,” he answered with a slight nod, barely looking up as Harry and Chip retreated from Sickbay with the awful memory of Lee's convulsions still fresh in their minds.

 

* * * * *

 

The wrenching sound of a man losing the contents of his stomach permeated Sickbay as Lee's wakefulness was marred by vomiting.

 

“Easy there Skipper, you're almost through it,” Jamie comforted, having plenty of experience treating concussions and therefore ready with the plastic lined bucket for the inevitable but unfortunate symptom of a concussion.

 

“Thanks Frank,” Jamie said with a grateful nod as the corpsman relieved him of the bucket while Doc tended his patient.

 

Lee moaned as Jamie raised his eyelids, shining a pen light in his eyes.

 

“Hurts...”

 

“I know Skipper.  I've dimmed the Sickbay lights for you and I've got some acetaminophen ready to give you, but I just need a neuro check and then you I'll let you sleep...”

 

“...hard t' think...”

 

“Try for me.  Your name?”

 

Lee blew a breath and answered.  “Lee... Crane.”

 

“Rank?” 

 

Lee swallowed hard.

 

“Come on Skipper.  Rank?”

 

“Co..m...  jus'... can't think...”

 

“Alright.  That's enough for now.”

 

“Shoe?”

 

Jamie chuckled and smiled.  “The Admiral told me to tell you he has it covered.  The Intel is safe.”

 

Lee sighed in relief as his eyes fluttered unwillingly closed, while Jamie pulled the blankets higher on his chest.  As sleep took him he couldn't help but notice his uneasiness concerning the mission and tried to focus on what was bothering him.  He couldn't quite grasp it; he only knew something was wrong... something important was missing.  It hurt too bad to think and this time his body took control of his usually victorious will and took charge, demanding rest.  Even so, Lee grasped for details of the mission as something niggled in the back of his mind... something he needed to tell Harry; something about the mission.  The thought sent him back as his dream state recounted the events once again.

 

Lee was inserted cleanly onto the beach as he watched the black rubber raft head back out to sea.  He scanned his surroundings, satisfying himself that his arrival had been undetected.  He stayed hidden until the raft was lost in the darkness of the sea before he left the safety of his hiding place.  He made his way to a well-worn path used by beach goers and cautiously emerged from the beach to the path that led to town.  He was right on schedule, now all he had to do was make contact.

 

* * * * *

 

“Jamie?”

 

Will turned toward the Sickbay door to find Harry standing and watching, he tilted his head to his office inviting Harry to join him there.

 

“I was just going to call you, Admiral.”

 

“Was he just awake?”

 

“Barely.  He knew his name but couldn't answer any more questions.  The CT Scan revealed typical swelling that should recede, and so far only minor hemorrhaging.  However, I'm not willing to rule out that there may be a higher problem here.”

 

Harry sat down heavily while motioning Jamie to continue.

 

“Three and half months ago he suffered a head injury,” Jamie said as Harry nodded slightly, remembering the event well as a training simulation went awry.  Lee was inspecting the handiwork for a drill after the detail shored up “weak” frames in a simulated flooding drill.  The beam failed as the captain pushed a rating out of the way just in time to save his life from a direct blow, but not before catching a side glance of the beam before it gave way.

 

“But he recovered, you gave him a clean bill of health,” Harry questioned.

 

“Yes, it's not the original injury but the piling up of head injuries,” Jamie explained as Harry narrowed his eyes.  “You see, multiple injuries on the brain can have adverse, long-range effects as the white matter is adversely affected by micro-hemorrhaging in the brain.  One single concussion is enough to cause damage in white matter micro-construction, but multiple concussions increase the likelihood of damage.”

 

“What are you saying Jamie?  Is Lee in danger of brain damage?”

 

“Technically yes, his future ability to process and learn new information may be affected, but the study of gray and white matter tissues aren’t conclusive enough to make that determination.  While the gray matter affects intelligence, processing and cognition, I'm speaking in very general broad terms here,” he qualified trying to keep the neurological discussion out of the text book arena, “White matter affects how the brain learns and functions and also acts as relays, coordinating communications between the different brain regions.  But to answer your question directly, his last concussion healed and I don't believe we're dealing with a secondary impact issue as much as I'm worried about the cumulative effects of his head injuries.”

 

Harry sighed.  “I'm not sure how to read you Jamie,” he admitted.  “You're telling me that he has a concussion and will recover as he has from his past injuries, but you're worried about something that may or may not even happen in the future.”

 

“Yes, I suppose that's exactly what I'm telling you.”  Jamie sighed and sat back heavily in his chair.  “I just don't want to see Lee's brilliant career cut short someday, much less the physical and mental impairment that would precede his loss of duty status.”

 

Harry leaned forward in his chair, his eyes piercing with intensity as he worked to get to the crux of the matter. 

 

“This isn't like you Jamie, you're worried about something that hasn't happened yet and furthermore have no proof it will.  So what is it you're after?”

 

“There's a new medical procedure using nuclear scanning, with it we can see how white matter has been affected by traumatic injuries.  Now it's a new theory and still in the research phase; it's perfectly safe, that part has been proven, it's the treatment that is still being evaluated.”

 

Harry raised an eyebrow.  “What kind of treatment?”

 

Jamie leaned over with his hands folded across his desk, clearly excited as he spoke.

 

“While the pharmaceutical companies are searching for the answer in drugs there's one study that has taken a completely different approach.  Frankly, I think they're on the right track,” Jamie said, plowing ahead in his excitement.  “I've often wondered how Lee is able to bounce back, despite multiple head traumas, especially on his ONI missions.”

 

Harry pursed his lips, clearly interested but eager for Jamie to get to the point.

 

“A new study suggests hyperbaric decompression treatments may be a valid treatment in restoring white matter.  I'd like to include Captain Crane in their studies; a friend of mine is heading the project.  Now there's no danger in the recompressions, and they've clinically perfected the CT nuclear imaging, what they need now are viable candidates to prove the treatment works.”

 

“Well, this is obviously a decision the Captain will have to make when he's able,” Harry concluded.  “Assuming he's willing, what is the procedure?”

 

“We'll conduct another nuclear scan as soon as we hit port, it will be the base line after this injury, along with his scans from previous injuries.  Then we begin the decompression treatments, we'll take additional scans at set intervals to determine effectiveness, with a final scan at the end of the treatment and a follow-up at a predetermined time to determine if the improvements are sustainable.”

 

“You're telling me the nuclear imaging is safe for repeated tests?”

 

“I wouldn't suggest this for any patient without feeling confident, Admiral.  But think about it, Lee has had plenty of head injuries in the course of his career and many hours in the decompression chamber in the course of his diving career; that long session after Admiral Falk's experiment certainly would have had a positive effect on any white matter deterioration if this proves true.  If we can clinically prove that hyperbaric decompression treatments reverse the effects of white matter damage then we can offer a real solution to traumatic brain injuries,” he finished excitedly.

 

Harry nodded, “I'm in agreement in theory, but as I said, this is a decision Lee must agree with.”

 

“Absolutely Admiral, but if he is unable to conduct a neuro test by the time we reach port, then I will conduct a more thorough nuclear imaging test as a medical procedure to determine the extent of possible brain injury; our portable CT Scan has its limitations,” he added.

 

“Very well, Jamie,” Harry said as he stood, knowing Seaview's CMO would never use his position as Chief Medical Officer to further any cause but his patient's best interest. 

 

“I'll just look in on your patient before turning in.”

 

“Aye Sir,” Jamie responded with a sigh; he was tired and it had been a long day treating yet another Lee Crane injury.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee made his way into town, it was only a two mile walk which he traversed easily as the bike path he followed was well paved and weaved itself straight into town.  He found the all night cafe he was looking for and entered, taking a seat and ordering a cup of coffee and a piece of pie as he waited for his contact.  He went through several cups of coffee as he pretended to be interested in the newspaper before him when he spotted the blond headed ONI operative enter.  His contact ignored him and headed to the counter, taking a stool at the counter instead of a table.  Lee noticed that Jim was on a first name basis with the waitress and silently praised the operative for building this cafe stop as a cover for exchanging information.  It was apparently perfectly within his cover to visit the cafe, even late at night.  After several cups of coffee Jim excused himself and headed down a hall to where Lee knew the bathrooms were located.  Lee waited another minute then followed, after three cups of coffee; his excuse to use the bathroom was more than established.

 

The multi-stalled bathroom offered plenty of privacy as Jim greeted Lee.

 

“Good to see you, Lee,” he said wearily as Lee locked the door behind him.

 

“Hi Jim, you look done in,” he noted, both men speaking quietly to preserve their secret meeting.

 

Jim pulled a small disk out and held it up demonstratively.  “This is big, Lee,” he said ignoring the dark headed operative's correct assessment of his current condition.  “I need to know it will make it back to ONI or none of what I've been doing will be for any good,” he said cryptically as Lee reached for the disk.

 

“I'll get it back, anything I need to know about the Intel?” Lee asked, his response matching intensity with Jim's mood.

 

“No, ONI knows what the stakes are.”

 

Lee nodded as he leaned against the wall and reached for his shoe.

 

“How are you doing, Jim?” he asked with concern.

 

“Things are heating up, Lee,” he admitted.  “But if I don't finish this, someone else will have to.”

 

Lee nodded his understanding.

 

“I've got one more piece of the puzzle I need to bring in,” he continued, “Then I'm going to pull out.”

 

He shook his head tiredly and continued, “I don't know Lee, they're getting close... if they connect some dots my cover may be blown soon.”

 

“Come with me now, Jim.  Let's get you out with what you've got,” Lee urged.  There was no rank in the field, and even though Jim was a Lt. Commander he was in charge of the mission, so all Lee could do was offer.

 

“No, it will take too long for someone else to build the cover I've got.  They might not be able to do it at all once they find out they've been infiltrated.”  He sighed heavily.  “I've got to see this through,” he finished handing the disk over to Lee as he slid his heel to reveal a secret compartment knowing he would have done the same thing.

 

Still using the Intel in the shoe ploy?” Jim asked with a grin.

 

“They still never look there,” Lee returned, taking his cues from the operative and lightening up a tad.  He started to close the heel when he spotted the transponder Harry gave him.  This wasn't part of ONI's plan, but there was no way he was going to leave a fellow operative without options, not when he had one staring straight at him.

 

Lee pulled out the transponder and handed it over to Jim.

 

“What's this?” he asked, not expecting to receive anything new from ONI.

 

“It's a fire extinguisher,” Lee answered cryptically.  “If things get hot, you activate that.  I'll have Communications monitor the frequency.”

 

Jim hesitated before taking the transponder, then heaved a sigh as he reached for Harry's transponder, recognizing the lifeline Lee was offering and that it wasn't ONI standard issue.

 

“Thanks Lee,” he offered sincerely.  “I better get back before Rita wonders,” he said, stashing the transponder quickly in a secret sleeve of his boot.  “I usually drink three cups before calling it a night.”

 

“Three cups?  Seriously?” Lee asked with a grin.

 

“Decaf,” Jim explained returning Lee's light banter.

 

“Take care, Jim.”

 

“You too, Lee.  The monkey's on your back now... the Intel is hot,” he reminded Lee, turning the conversation serious again.

 

With that Jim unlocked the door and left, returning to his stool and leaning over a freshly poured cup of decaf coffee as Rita greeted her regular late night customer with smiles of familiarity.

 

Lee left a moment later, leaving a tip and heading straight for his extraction.

 

* * * * *

 

As Lee left a man stepped out of a darkened doorway, shadowing his moves.  He stopped to give Lee more room to advance and slipped into another doorway, pulling out a two-way radio.

 

“I'm on his tail... No, there's no confirmation there was any contact... Alright, I'll stay with him.”

 

He slid his radio inside his jacket pocket and peered around the corner.  Crane had amassed a significant lead so he moved out of his hiding place and continued his tail.  Someone else was keeping tabs on Jim Wright, if he so much as whispered their plans to a gold fish, they would know.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry stood by Lee's bed watching the able captain and just as able operative sleeping.  No doubt his sleep would be interrupted countless times tonight as Lee would be woken to prevent him from drifting into a coma.  As he watched he couldn't help but think over their relationship and wondered not for the first time how it had progressed so deeply.  He often called Lee his best friend when pressed to do so, or when he needed to express his feelings for the younger man, but deep down he knew it went even deeper.  He and Lee understood one another in a way that required few words.  They worked together well, and respected one another deeply, though that didn't stop Lee was exercising his duty as captain to disagree with him.  Harry smiled, Lee wasn't afraid to make his point known; though often deferring to Harry's judgment he just as often stood firm and laid down the law where the safety of his boat and crew were concerned.  He couldn't intimidate Lee; when his captain did back down it was out of pure respect... it was a respect that Harry valued. 

 

Yes, there were times they disagreed with furor; Jamie's mention of Admiral Falk's extreme depth experiment had brought one of those memories to light. 

 

Harry had been irritated that Admiral Bentley Falk valued press and fame more than anything else, leaving a major experiment to his assistant Dr. Archer so that he could receive kudos for an experiment still in progress.  It was disgraceful and Harry was more than peeved at his grandstanding.  Falk just didn't seem to grasp the dangers!  Perhaps he was that sure of his invention, but Harry was getting ready to dangle four lives at the end of a tether some 36,000 feet below the surface and one of the occupants was Seaview's Captain.  To him the grandstanding and attention grabbing was not only premature and arrogant, it was downright irresponsible.  He remembered Lee being gracious to Falk's intent, and perhaps it was appropriate for Admiral Falk's scientific reputation and certainly for the impeccable reputation of Falk's famous father.  But though Harry was impressed with Falk's science he was less than impressed by the man's character.  He couldn't put his finger on it, but he didn't trust Falk.  He wasn't being petty over the famous admiral's important experiment, or the fact that Harry had been pressured to accept Seaview as the platform for conducting the tests.  It was a gut feeling that wouldn't go away, and Falk's behavior in missing the experiment with the test dummies just proved he was far more interested in his image than his science.

 

The test was a success and the next phase was scheduled, as Harry looked at his watch and fumed that Falk hadn't made his way to the missile room yet.  Seaview had to surface just to retrieve the errant admiral who had taken the opportunity for a press conference rather than oversee his own experiment, now he was late for the most important phase.  Harry watched as the test dummies were removed and Dr. Archer reset the test hull for the dive.  He noticed how excited Lee was for the dive and wished he could join in his excitement.  He had studied the science behind the gas exchange and was impressed with Falk's ingenuity, if only he could be sure that his need to cash in on the experiment's success wouldn't override the safety of the four men in the test hull. 

 

He heaved an inward sigh as he watched Lee excitedly prepare for the dive.  Seaview's Captain was more than ready to put his life on the line; Lee trusted the experiment because Harry had approved it; that in itself put a heavy burden on him as he prepared to lower his best friend into the depths.

 

Falk finally arrived, grandstanding all the way as his press secretary took endless pictures.

 

“A press secretary,” Harry thought inwardly with disdain, “What admiral needs a press secretary?” 

 

His disgust for his fellow admiral was not so much personal disagreement as it was a reflection of Falk's character, and the question burned in the back of his mind; “Could he trust Falk's decisions concerning safety with human lives aboard?”  The fact that one of those lives was Lee's only made his heart wretch more as his mind worked feverishly to convince himself that since the science was sound he had no reason to delay the tests.

 

Harry offered his well-wishes to the entire dive party, placing a hand on Lee's shoulder to transfer his unspoken concern as he offered a smile to his friend. 

 

“Good luck, Lee.”

 

“Thank you Admiral,” he returned with the excitement of a boy about to ride his first Ferris wheel.

 

Harry was at least grateful to have worked with Dr. Archer; he was more than an able assistant and was very competent.  That gave him the confidence he needed as the test was an important one, a major break-through for science if successful.  Harry nodded to himself in determination as he stationed himself next to Chip's station in the missile room.  “There was no room for failure, not with four lives on board the test hull... not with Lee on board,” he determined silently.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry monitored the deep dive, taking measurements and agreeing with every plateau and subsequent dive to the lower depths.  Based upon the current data, Falk's atmosphere exchange was working perfectly.  He couldn't be happier for science' sake, the break-through could mean exploration of the depths that far transcended even a diving bell's ability.  He was more than pleased when Lee reported that the test hull was tight and dry, and was starting to feel good about the experiment until Falk weighed in.  Harry graciously congratulated Falk only to have the admiral respond with extreme arrogance.  Harry shook his head and sighed; the most important thing was that the science worked and that the occupants were safe.  But then something went terribly wrong, as Lee reported that an on board explosion had bled off precious oxygen.  Harry made the decision to bring the bell up without decompression stops as Lee affirmed the need for the hyperbaric chamber at their necessary rate of ascent.  It was the only thing they could do, to wait would mean death for everyone on board.

 

That was the last they heard from Lee or the rest of the bell occupants, until the test hull was brought aboard, and the deeply unconscious men were hauled out.   Falk's second assistant, Tracy, was dead, and the remaining crew were already showing signs of decompression sickness.

 

They were rushed to sickbay where Jamie prepared his patients for the chamber, as Harry calculated the chamber settings to a shocking 6,000 decibars. Then it was a waiting game as Harry divided his attention between keeping Falk's press secretary, Hof, from taking pictures of the three men fighting for their lives and the investigation to determine what went wrong.  His concern for Lee was something he managed from the inside, but it weighed heavily on him to watch the corpsman take his unresponsive body into the chamber not knowing if he would survive the recompression, or even if he'd be permanently damaged by the experiment gone awry.

 

The treatment was a slow process.  They nearly lost all three men at 4,000 decibars, but they finally reached their targeted pressure and slowly the men began to recover.  The investigation revealed an unrelated freak accident in the mixture tanks, but technically the test hull itself proved sound as well as the atmosphere exchange.  Still, a man's life was lost and Harry wasn't convinced that the “freak accident” was entirely unrelated.  He determined within himself to study the hull with more dives before putting Seaview and her crew at risk.  Upon making that decision he suddenly felt a great weight lift from his shoulders; it was the right course of action, he was sure of it.

 

Falk, Archer and Lee recovered and though they were all very weak for several days they had been given a clean bill of health.  Harry was therefore, surprised to realize that even with Lee's very real brush with death, he was still in favor of taking Seaview down.  Frankly it was strange, as their positions were very much reversed from their usual stances.  Normally, it was Lee fighting tooth and nail against the least bit of uncertainty where his crew and boat were concerned.  It was apparent he truly believed the process worked, but Harry simply couldn't ignore Tracy's dead body lying in cold storage, waiting to be taken home to his family.

 

“Blast it!  I'm a scientist,” Harry thought, “Freak accidents don't just occur, there's always a cause.”

 

Lee however, apparently misread Harry's relief as something petty and very nearly accused Harry of jealousy.  He of course, backed off right away, but it was a stinging injury to Harry, one that wasn't helped as Falk went over his head garnering the President's influence to continue the experiments.  Lee in no way approved of Falk's move to involve the President, but Harry was still more than put out and their relationship was strained in the tension. 

 

That tension eased slightly, after a successful dive to the bottom, marred by disturbing glitches as Seaview's inside temperature rose to 120 degrees F.  They celebrated with a trip to the Observation Lounge to view the depths from the herculite windows.  The entire experiment went completely awry however, when Dr. Archer suffered a fatal heart attack, followed by the arrival of a large sea beast. 

 

Harry of course realized that Lee hadn't turned on him, and after a life and death struggle for Seaview, the two managed to work together as they always had before to save the Boat.  It was then that the truth came out that Falk wasn't the true inventor, but had only supplied the idea.  He had wrongly taken credit for the scientific achievement without an ounce of recognition for the true genius of Archer who turned the idea into reality.  In the end, it was Harry's genius that saved the Boat.

 

They really hadn't talked much about the incident, but Harry could tell Lee was quite contrite and sincere when he rendered his congratulations, as it had been Harry who managed to figure out the controls of the experimental equipment with nothing but his knowledge and Archer's Operation's Manuals; something even Falk himself was unable to do. 

 

He and Lee had worked through the bump in the road as nothing more than inevitable disagreements from time to time, and emerged with their respect and friendship intact.  Harry was inwardly ecstatic that Lee had survived to have the little spat... it had been entirely too close and without the hyperbaric chamber on board there would have been no chance for Lee or the other men to survive.  They would have been in the throes of the bends, dying in agony if Seaview hadn't been designed with the lifesaving recompression ability.

 

Harry gathered his thoughts from the memory and reached for Lee's shoulder.  His thoughts far from the disagreement and focused instead on his best friend's condition.

 

“Rest up, Lad.  We'll be home soon,” he whispered and left sickbay silently contemplating Jamie's suggestion that hyperbaric oxygen treatment could indeed reverse the long-term damage of concussions.  He wanted to do some research of his own; the thought of Lee being impaired by this head injury or the multiple concussions he had suffered in his career was more than distressing, it was unbearable. 

 

How much can a man give to survive dangerous missions time and time again just to lose the sharpness of his brilliant mind later? he thought inwardly. 

 

No, he was determined to do everything in his power to keep that from happening.  The chamber had saved Lee's life after diving to 36,000 feet, perhaps it was the answer to preserving his future as well.

 

* * * * *

 

Distantly while he slept, Lee could hear Harry speaking.  Though he couldn't grasp the words just yet, Harry's voice was comforting.  His body demanded rest, as he sank deeper into sleep losing all passage of time, until he felt the unexpected jolt of someone's insistent voice.  His awareness returned, followed by the pain of his head injury as Lee opened his eyes groggily to Jamie's blurred face over him.

 

“Skipper, it's time for a neuro check,” he said gently.

 

Lee sighed, the blow of breath out signaling not only his grogginess but a throbbing headache threatening to explode any time soon.

 

“My head...” he said, starting to reach for the injury hidden under the wrappings of gauze.

 

“I've got something for that.  Come on Skipper, you know the drill.”

 

“Crane... Lee, Benjamin... Commander... service number...”

 

“That's fine, Lee,” Jamie said thrilled the captain was responding.  “Frankly, I'm just glad you stopped talking about your shoe,” he chuckled.

 

“Shoe!” Lee exclaimed, nearly popping straight up from the bed until his head exploded in pain and he fell backwards.

 

“Lee!” Jamie helped to ease him back down as his patient tossed his head in overwhelming pain.

 

“Skipper, you're working through a moderate concussion here, now I'll thank you to stay put and make my job easier and your recovery faster,” Jamie admonished trying to figure out why the word “shoe” had triggered such a reaction.  But his words were lost on his patient as Lee squeezed his eyes together then passed out, the pain too great to bear.

 

Jamie rubbed his hand down the length of his face.  He'd been ecstatic that Lee had woken lucid, but his reaction to the word “shoe” had, quite frankly, been nothing short of shocking. 

 

* * * * *

 

Shoe...  Lee grabbed onto the word even as his body took charge, denying him the opportunity to explain his cryptic message as he fought the concussion that was currently forcing his will into submission. 

 

Shoe...

 

Lee made his way out of the cafe back toward the edge of town, as always with his eyes and ears open and with the overwhelming sense that he was being followed.  He couldn't risk a look back and decided to take an alternative turn, so as not to lead his shadow back to his extraction point.  He slowed his walk as he considered that Jim was risking his life to secure the final piece of Intel; Lee realized that if he showed too much skill in eluding his “shadow” then it might just tip them off, blowing Jim's cover.  He was taking a chance he knew, but since they hadn't ambushed him yet, he was betting on the fact that they didn't know for sure he was connected to Jim in any way.  His debriefers were probably going to ream his six for what he was about to do, but he was confident in the safety of the Intel and his ability to pull this off.

 

He took a turn that no seasoned operative would ever take, leading to a residential area with few lights, plenty of shadows, and opportunities to be ambushed at every turn... setting himself up as an easy target.  He strolled along as if heading home until he felt the expected blow to the back of the neck.  He exaggerated weak knees as his attacker dragged him off the sidewalk through bushes, where they would have the privacy to search him. 

 

“What is it you want?  My wallet?” Lee feigned as an arm around his neck held him in place. 

 

Another man stood before him, his face covered with a black ski mask, hiding all his features save for his eyes and mouth.

 

“Jim Wright,” the masked man said, testing Lee's reaction to the name.

 

“You've got the wrong dude, man.  My name is Lee Parker,” Lee said, acting as if they had just grabbed the wrong man and not using any of his skills in self-defense to neutralize the hold around his neck. 

 

“Listen if it's money you want, I've got a little in my wallet,” Lee offered making a good case to hide the fact that he could take both of these jokers in just a few well-placed moves. 

 

The masked man stepped forward, conducting a thorough frisk job as Lee held the arm of his assailant, who had by now began executing an uncomfortable choke hold on Lee.  The masked man went through his wallet, confirming Lee's false I.D. and obviously not finding what he was really looking for.

 

“Make it look like a mugging,” he said as he stepped away, pulling Lee's cash out and dropping the wallet on the ground to continue the ruse. 

 

Lee was already struggling to breathe as his assailant spun him around and threw him against a nearby tree.  His assailant's masked partner had already stepped away, pulling his mask off as he moved back onto the sidewalk and out of Lee's sight.  The large man before him hadn't bothered to wear a mask, obviously not planning on leaving any witnesses as he stepped toward Lee, while simultaneously opening a switch blade knife.

 

“Now look, man,” Lee said with his hands up in front of him and his back precariously against a tree.  “You've got my money... let's just forget about it, I won't tell a soul,” he bargained.

 

He still had the Intel to deliver, Jim had risked his life to get it, so he couldn't let the operative down by blowing this.  He needed to defend himself with less finesse than he was capable of, without getting himself killed in the process so he could complete his mission. 

 

His assailant lunged forward as Lee blocked the arm bearing the knife and issued the deepest blow he could into his side, in what would be called a “low blow” in boxing, a direct hit over his assailant's kidneys.  His counter-attack had the desired effect as the unsuspecting assailant dropped to his knees and gasped in pain.  Lee took that opportunity to find his escape, intending to out-run his attacker rather than fight.  The last thing he needed was to look like a well-trained operative who could easily defend himself in hand to hand combat. 

 

Lee almost made it past his assailant when a large hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and threw him up against the tree trunk; before he could react his head was met with a rock that his attacker had grabbed while on the ground.  The blow was made at full force as darkness took Lee immediately, with his body crumbling limply to the grass.

 

The assailant held his side, his anger burning at the lucky shot his victim had managed to get in.  He squatted down and placed a finger to Lee's throat to find his pulse as blood flowed from the side of his victim's head.  His assessment was interrupted however, by the sound of a dog's approaching bark, so he collected the switch blade he dropped earlier and left Lee bleeding under the tree.  He high-tailed it out of the area figuring that even if Lee Parker was lucky enough to wake up, he wouldn't know anything except he'd been mugged.  Besides, they hadn't found anything to prove Jim Wright had passed any information along; that's all they were after anyway.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee woke sometime later, struggling to remember where he was and why he was covered in blood.  He moved too fast and quickly found his head injury as he heaved up his stomach’s contents onto the grass beside him.  He focused as hard as he could, until he remembered what he had in his shoe.  He struggled to his feet, leaning heavily against the tree and looked around.  Somewhere inside, despite his injury, he found the strength to return to the beach, knowing that a fellow operative had risked his life for the Intel he possessed.  He had done what he could to protect Jim's cover by allowing himself to be caught so he could be searched; now he needed to finish the job.  None of Jim's sacrifice would mean a thing if he didn't deliver the disk.

 

He finally made it to the beach, having no idea if he was at the proper extraction point or not and prayed that the SEAL team would be able to track him down.  He used the last of his strength and lucidness to activate his ONI transponder then passed out, hidden on the beach among the rocks and sea oats.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry was sitting at his desk, reading through a rather large journal when he heard a knock on his door.  He sat back and stretched before leaning forward and folding his hands across his desk.

 

“Come in.”

 

“Admiral, do you have minute?” Jamie asked, standing in the doorway almost sheepishly.

 

“Of course, Jamie.  What is it?  Is Lee alright?” Harry asked, suddenly concerned with the doctor's unusual visit.

 

“Yes... that is, as well as can be expected with a serious head injury,” Jamie replied lamely as he moved toward Harry's visitor chair, sinking into it wearily.

 

“Admiral... I woke Lee for a neuro check; he was finally lucid and recited everything as he should, but then I joked about his shoe and he nearly jumped out of bed at the word,” Jamie reported, clearly frustrated.  “Now I don't pretend to know what goes on with those missions of his, but I have the feeling he was trying desperately to tell us something important.”

 

Jamie hung his head.  “He passed out before I could find out what, and he's been tossing and turning ever since,” he finished.

 

Harry sat back and considered the facts. 

 

“He knows I have the disk,” he stated.

 

“I suppose; I didn't know what it was... I told him you were taking care of the Intel and he seemed to understand and was relieved.  It's something else Admiral, something about that shoe.” 

 

Jamie shook his head, unable to guess for the life of him how Lee's shoe could be so important, but not able to let the matter drop either.

 

“Ever since he's returned he's been fixated on that shoe!” Jamie continued in near exasperation.  “I don't know what it means, but I can't treat his injuries if he continues to fight the rest he needs just to report something.  He'll derail his own healing until we know what he's trying to say,” Jamie finally got out.

 

Harry smiled thinly.  “You're right, Jamie, and you were right to come here.  Wait here,” he said then left returning with Lee's shoe a few minutes later.

 

“I put his shoe back in his cabin once I had the disk,” Harry explained as he placed the shoe on the desk between them.  “Now, let's see what Lee's been trying to tell us,” he said, opening the heel as Jamie leaned forward.

 

“Well I'll be,” Jamie noted softly at the secret compartment.  “He really is a James Bond, isn't he?”

 

Harry smiled, then turned his attention to the empty compartment.  He was about to examine the sole of the shoe for anything important when it hit him.

 

“Admiral?” Jamie inquired sitting forward after noticing Harry's change in countenance.

 

Harry sighed in partial understanding.

 

“I gave Lee a second transponder before he left; it wasn't ONI issue, it wasn't even authorized.  I watched Lee put it in the heel of this shoe.”

 

Jamie's blank face gave away his confusion.  “But what does that mean?”

 

“It may mean that Lee gave the fire extinguisher to someone else,” Harry said obscurely, standing up as Jamie followed his lead, more confused now than ever before. 

 

“Get back to sickbay Jamie, I'll be there shortly.  I have a feeling Lee will fight his way out long enough to tell us what's going on.”

 

Jamie nodded and followed Harry out the door wondering just what a shoe and a fire extinguisher had to do with anything.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry arrived at the radio shack to find the delta watch operator at the station.

 

“I need the captain's frequency monitored constantly,” Harry ordered, not wasting any time as the delta watch operator nodded.

 

“Aye Sir.  I also have standing orders to notify Sparks when the captain's frequency is on alert,” Sanders explained.

 

“Very well.  I'll be in sick bay, notify me immediately if it activates.”

 

“Aye aye, Sir,” Sanders replied, making his first adjustment to tune in the Skipper's designated frequency, then making his call to the off-duty Communication's Officer who took his job of watching out for Captain Crane very seriously.  It didn't matter that the Skipper was safe on board; if the Admiral wanted Crane's frequency monitored then Sanders knew something was up and whatever it was... it was big.

 

* * * * *

 

“How is he, Jamie?” Harry asked, entering Sickbay and siding up next to Seaview's doctor.

 

“As good as can be expected, but see how uneasy his rest is?” Jamie pointed out. 

 

Harry patted Jamie's shoulder.  “You did the right thing coming to me,” he comforted before taking the chair next to Lee.  Jamie stepped back, not knowing whether he was authorized to be privy to the information concerning the mission.

 

“Lee?” Harry called.  “It's Nelson.”

 

Lee's head tossed side to side before settling to face the direction of Harry's voice.

 

“That's it, Lee.  Did you have something you need to tell me about the transponder?”

 

Lee swallowed as his eyes blinked open, while Harry leaned forward.

 

“Things are getting hot,” Lee breathed out.  “Gave extinguisher to Jim... Promised him...” he stopped and squeezed his eyes together tightly.

 

“I understand, Lee,” Harry said with a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “Sparks is monitoring the frequency as we speak.”

 

Lee's relief was immediate.  “Thank you S'r.”

 

Harry smiled.  “Now is there anything else you need to report?”

 

Lee closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to bring forward anything else Harry needed to know before answering.

 

“No, just make sure Jim's covered.”

 

“I'll take care of it.  Now Jamie here says you need rest Lee, trust me to take care of things so you can get better,” Harry admonished to Lee's very slight nod of the head.

 

Lee's, “Thank you Sir,” was barely rendered before he allowed sleep to take him once again.

 

Harry stood, watching his young captain for a moment before turning to confer with Jamie.

 

“He gave his secondary transponder, the back-up I gave him, to his contact,” Harry explained.  “Things are heating up and Lee promised to provide an emergency extraction.”

 

Jamie's eyes lightened with the information as he nodded in affirmation.

 

“That's why he's been fighting so hard to wake-up,” Harry continued.  “He was afraid that since he was on board, his frequency wouldn't be monitored any longer.  He was, of course, correct.  We're on it now, at least he can rest now,” he finished.

 

“Aye Sir,” Jamie replied with a relieved smile.

 

“Call me if there's any change,” Harry said leaving sickbay; he had plans to make now that the cat was finally out of the bag.  He headed to the Control Room with a list of things to do already formulating in his mind.

 

* * * * *

 

Jim Wright knew this would be his last chance.  He spotted his “shadow” after leaving the cafe and knew that they were onto him.  He walked nonchalantly and seemingly unconcerned back to his apartment, making sure to walk slow enough so that his shadow could make a move out in the open, where he had more options.  When he made it back to his apartment he went about his business moving from room to room, turning lights on then off to make sure his shadow thought he was settling in for bed.  He sat in the darkened room for a while wondering if Lee had made it back with the disk.  It was a sure bet that if they'd been watching him all night they might just decide to check his dark headed counterpart out.  He only hoped Lee had been wise to his shadow. 

 

He went about his business the next day as if all was well, but Jim knew that if he was being shadowed he was under suspicion, perhaps it hadn't escalated past the curious yet, he reasoned and figured that he'd try for the last piece of the puzzle to call this mission done.  He knew what was at stake, a new design that would render enemy aircraft stealth on radar.  He was well aware that every world power including the US was already testing a similar technology utilizing aircraft design and engineering, but this one was different as it was an independent unit that actually interfered with any detection equipment it came into contact with.  In short, a spy plane could be flying overhead, unbeknownst to even the most careful of radar operators.  The US needed the design to counter the dangers of unauthorized flights over US installations across the world. 

 

He blew a breath out and left through the dumb waiter that had long since been out of service.  He had picked this apartment specifically because of this escape route, as the old apartment building had been renovated from an old hotel of year's past.  He had worked through the nights to secretly gain access to the dumbwaiter, which had been sealed behind a new wall of sheet rock.  It was hidden behind a large painting and would be unnoticed to the casual observer, that is, until his apartment got a real shake-down.  He suspected that was coming, so he decided to get the final info now, then bug-out with the Intel. 

 

ONI inserted him nearly six months ago; his cover working at the secret facility was so precarious that he hadn't been given any electronics that could possibly be detected by the random sweeps made continuously in the compound.  In short, he'd been sent in to gain whatever information possible without a designated extraction plan.  Jim sighed; there was at least, some measure of peace derived from the small transponder hidden in his boot.  He wouldn't activate it until he was clear, then he'd just have to sweat it out and hope Lee was safe on his sub and looking for his signal.  But first things first, he was going to make one final excursion into the compound for the final schematics needed to make the device.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry entered through the aft hatch of the Control Room and wasn't the least bit surprised to find Chip there; his uniform crisp and every hair in place, as if he hadn't already put in a very long day.  He wasn't sure how Seaview's efficient XO always seemed to be in-the-know on these things; it just seemed that whenever he needed the first officer, he was ready to go.

 

“Chip, I need FS1 prepped for departure, has Communications had any word?”  Harry asked, assuming the XO had the situation scoped out by now.

 

“Chief Sharkey is readying the flying sub now and Communications reports negative so far, Sir,” he reported.

 

“Ahhh Sir,” Chip inquired, leaning in to speak quietly.  “Who are we waiting for if Lee is back aboard?”

 

“His contact on assignment,” Harry returned just as quietly.  “Lee felt his cover was precarious and left his personal transponder behind as backup.  He's been fighting his recovery to wake and tell us; we just now put the pieces together,” he explained.

 

Chip nodded as Harry silently pondered whether to ask the XO just how he knew about the situation at all, but decided against it.  The XO was on top of things, that's all he cared about right now.

 

“Should I reverse course, Sir?” Chip asked as Harry pursed his bottom lip in thought.

 

“Negative on reversing course, but let's slow our speed to one-third and amble along slowly.  I'm not going to contact ONI with what's going on just yet, and I don't want anyone to wonder what we're doing,” he strategized. 

 

It was unlikely their movements could be tracked, but he didn't want to chance that one in a million possibility.  Harry was pretty sure that ONI wasn't ready for an emergency extraction or Lee wouldn't have left his transponder.  It was the rotten part of espionage work that would leave an operative to the wolves rather than risk an even bigger operation.  As ruthless as the truth was, it was the nature of the game.

 

“One-third speed, Aye,” Chip acknowledged as Harry reached for the chart to work up his course.  Though they were hundreds of miles from their target destination it would be a fast, easy ride for FS1 once the signal was received.

 

* * * * *

 

Jim made his way back into the compound covertly, utilizing underground culvert pipes that served as flood control during the rainy season.  He had cut through the grates to create a door for himself, which he swung back into place to keep his entry point secret.  Once inside the compound he inserted an electronic master pass key obtained by utilizing his skills in the computer room.  This key wasn't tied to his own issued key, ensuring his movements couldn't be traced back to him.  He knew the sentry passes well and moved through the hallways without their detection.  He stopped at the locked room that housed the schematics; This is where it gets sticky, he thought to himself.  Once inside, the security cameras could catch his movements.  Their passes were random and he'd been lucky the last time, getting in and taking his pictures with a miniature digital camera.  There was no way to know when the camera would be trained on the door so he'd just have to chance it; get in and get out as quickly as he could.

 

Jim picked the lock, opened the door and stepped inside; relieved that the camera was sweeping the other side of the room.  He moved quickly to the blue print drawer he needed and found what he was looking for.  He took as many pictures as he dared, taking duplicates as he had to photograph the large blueprints in quadrants.  Once complete he looked up, noticing the camera was in a favorable position and headed for the door.  He grimaced when he caught the second camera just above the door, a new acquisition to the security system and figured the jig was up.  There was no turning back now; even if he got out safely he could never come back. 

 

He kept his cool, forcing his adrenalin into submission and backtracked out of the building.  He checked his surroundings before making a mad dash for the culvert pipe, closing it behind him and running toward the end.  He opened the grate and ran for the trees just as the mission went bust and the bullets started flying.  He made it into the trees before catching a bullet in the shoulder, but there was no time to nurse it along.  He sucked up the pain and put all his effort into evading his pursuers.  He had an exit plan, and made it to his vehicle, leaving behind his pursuers and heading for town.  He dumped the car in a used car lot and made the rest of the way on foot.  He was tempted to activate the transponder, but thought better of it.  He had no idea how much battery life was on the small issue and this was his only way out of a potentially very painful interrogation.  He was safe in the trees when the helicopter began combing the area, thankfully covering the walking path to the beach and smiled gratefully. 

 

He headed for his escape route, mounting a previously hidden sling under his hips and rappelling down the fifty foot cliffs in the much less accessible portion of the beach.  If he was fast enough, he would be on the bottom and in cover before they even thought to look there.  Once at the bottom, he tucked himself into an alcove, sharing his hiding spot with small land crabs left behind from the high tide and reached into the secret compartment of his boot.  He activated the transponder then leaned back to apply pressure to his bullet wound, praying that Lee Crane was on his way.

 

* * * * *

 

“Contact, Admiral!” Sparks called from the radio shack, having come on duty to attend to the important task of monitoring the frequency. 

 

“Coordinates,” Harry requested in the mic as Chip jotted them down, tearing the note off the pad and handing it to the Admiral.

 

Harry looked over the chart, quickly and efficiently finding his destination.  The rescue detail was ready and itching to go as Chief Sharkey, Kowalski and Patterson were geared up and just waiting for the word.

 

“Alright men, let's get to it,” Harry ordered as the men descended into the flying sub while the Admiral tended to last minute instructions.

 

“Radio black-out, Chip.  Sparks is to accept only my coded frequency.”

 

“Aye Sir,” Chip acknowledged, knowing the Admiral was making sure that they didn't receive direct orders to cease and desist from the rescue operation.

 

“I'll make contact when our man is retrieved and we're safely away.”

 

“Aye Sir and good luck.”

 

Harry acknowledged with tight lips and determination in his eyes as he descended down the ladder and moved into the left seat.  Sharkey had taken care of the pre-flight as Harry switched on the main power, buckled in and attached his throat mic.

 

“Ready to launch,” he advised the Control Room as the bay doors opened below them.

 

“Aye Sir, launch in 5-4-3-2-1.  Launch.”

 

The magnetic arms lowered the yellow manta-ray submersible into the depths and cleared the bay doors.

 

“Hold on gentlemen,” Harry said over his shoulder.  “Because we're going in full speed ahead,” he declared with as much determination in his voice as in his eyes. 

 

* * * * *

 

Lee felt a slight shudder even in his sleep, as he climbed back to consciousness.

 

“Jamie?” he called, careful not to move too much this time.

 

Jamie wasted no time making his way over to his patient.

 

“Yes Skipper.”

 

“Felt FS1 launch,” he said.

 

“Did you?  I never feel it,” Jamie considered with a slight chuckle for his captain's strange ability to “feel” his boat.  “The Admiral was waiting for the signal; I suppose it came through.”

 

“Do me a favor, will ya'?” he asked, not quite up to his usual decorum.  “Find out for me.”

 

Jamie nodded, Lee had fought his way to lucidness to make them aware of his fellow operative's precarious position; he deserved to know what was going on. 

 

He placed a comforting hand on Lee's shoulder as he spoke.  “I'll call the Control Room,” he promised to Lee's small smile.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Jamie picked up the mic and chuckled inwardly, then spoke.  “Jamieson to Control Room.”

 

“Control Room, Aye.  This is the Exec.”

 

“The Captain requests a status report.”

 

There was a short pause and then a slightly relieved tone in the answer.  “Aye.  Give the Captain my compliments and inform him that I'll be right down.”

 

Jamie smiled and then looked back at his patient.  His smiled faded to a frown as he considered the CT Scan and whether the inflammation he saw would heal properly.  His forehead furled, realizing that just one concussion could cause white matter damage affecting a patient's ability to learn and remember even everyday things.  He feared that Lee's repeated concussions were sealing that fate. 

 

He couldn't let that happen, he determined inwardly and resolved to speak with Lee about the alternative treatment as soon as he was able.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry took to the sky flying supersonic then dove FS1 to arrive stealthily as he approached the shore.  The transponder's signal indicated Wright had set up his hiding place along the cliffs.  The rocky approach demanded a careful zodiac ride, so Kowalski and Patterson prepared the rubber raft as FS1 bobbed beside it.  Sharkey already knew better than to suggest the Admiral stay with FS1 as he sighed, silently wishing he was heading to shore instead. 

 

Harry and Kowalski both had sidearms drawn and were dressed in special detail black fatigues.  They motored forward with their outboard on whisper mode, which produced a soft hum that was lost in the sounds of the ocean waves breaking on the beach. 

 

“There Sir!” Kowalski whispered, pointing through the darkness toward a small light.  It flashed twice then went black.

 

“That's it,” Harry whispered back.  “That's our man.  Be ready for anything,” he admonished as Patterson steered the rubber raft toward the direction of the signal.

 

* * * * *

 

Jim held his throbbing shoulder, the bullet was still lodged inside and he was thoroughly done in.

 

“Come on, Lee,” he whispered to himself, hoping his ONI counterpart hadn't been caught himself.  The helicopter had searched itself out, having concentrated on the beach with the easy path access and never once venturing down to the cliffs; that at least, had gone right. 

 

He blew a breath out trying to manage the pain when he caught a slight hum across the dark waters; there was no moon, so he could only hope it was Lee.  Jim reached for his pen light and flashed twice, praying he wasn't signaling the wrong side, because he had nothing left to give if he was wrong.  It has to be Lee, he thought, encouraging himself as the boat moved closer.  He started to move but found his legs as weak as wet noodles.

 

“Come on Wright,” he admonished himself.  “Lee came all this way for you, the least you can do is meet him half way.”

 

He moved forward, holding his shoulder when two men met him, Lee wasn't one of them and he worried for a moment that he had brought the bad guys down on himself.

 

“Lean on me, Sir,” a concerned young man urged as Jim felt hope return.

 

Another man took up his other side as Jim caught the auburn locks peeking out from under a black beanie cap and quickly put two and two together.

 

“Admiral Nelson?” he whispered as they ushered him toward the raft.

 

“No time for introductions, lad.  Let's get you out of here, then we'll talk,” Harry gently ordered.

 

Jim dipped his head, now he was really worried; he knew that if there was the slightest chance possible, Lee would have been here.  He kept both his questions and his concern to himself as they motored toward a yellow bobbing vessel.  He had to crack a smile knowing full well the flying sub and its reputation.  Patterson expertly guided the raft to the flying sub as Kowalski helped Jim forward. 

 

“I'm afraid you'll have to climb, Sir,” Ski advised, as the side cargo hatch wasn't the best option, not if you wanted to keep the deck dry anyway.

 

“I'll make it,” he replied and put what little strength he had into boarding the flying sub.  He half expected to see Lee at the controls when he hit the deck, as another man guided him to a rear seat and buckled him in.

 

Within minutes the raft was deflated, stowed, and the top hatch secured with everyone on board.

 

“Take us down, Chief and get us underway,” Harry ordered.  “I'll be right there,” he said, then turned toward their passenger. 

 

“Jim Wright, I presume?”

 

“Aye Sir,” he replied as Kowalski applied a pressure bandage on the back of his shoulder.  “Did Lee make it back?” he asked almost frantically, too weary from the pain and six months of deep cover espionage to hold his concern in check.

 

Harry nodded, placing a hand on Jim's good shoulder.  “He's back.  He came aboard with a pretty serious head injury, but he's going to be fine.”

 

Jim's relief was evident.  “I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't given me the transponder,” he breathed out.  “In my boot Sir,” he said, just before his body took control and he passed out.

 

Harry patted his shoulder and moved to the pilot's seat, wrapping the mic around his throat and activating it.

 

“FS1 to Seaview, come in Seaview.”

 

“Seaview Aye.  We read you loud and clear FS1.”

 

“Inform Mr. Morton we have our man and are en route.  ETA forty-eight minutes,” he said before taking FS1 to full power and breaking the cover of the ocean, for the skies and supersonic flight.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee was asleep when Jim Wright was brought in.  He was exhausted from neuro checks every hour on the hour, and as hard as he tried he could barely stay awake for Chip's visit.  His head still threatened to explode from his shoulders as Jamie hadn't been able to give him anything stronger than acetaminophen.  And if he was honest with himself, it still hurt to think.  So he completely missed the excitement in sickbay when Jim Wright was brought in.

 

* * * * *

 

Jim got the “special stretcher ride” through the corridors of Seaview as he didn't have the rank or the will right now to fight the CMO.  He was quickly transferred to the gurney as the Doc turned him on his side to assess the entrance wound.  He spotted Lee in the bunk lying motionless, a bandage around his head and an IV attached to his arm.

 

“How is he, Doc?” Jim asked, grimacing slightly as Jamie cut away the pressure bandage Ski had applied.

 

“He suffered a pretty good whack on the head, a moderate concussion but he's already responding well and on his way to healing.  He should rest better now that you're aboard,” Jamie added distractedly, returning his full attention to Jim's shoulder.

 

“Okay Commander, it looks like we'll be pulling a bullet out of your shoulder.  We're going to prep you and get that taken care of,” Jamie promised.

 

“Sounds good Doc, just one thing.  The Admiral needs my right boot.”

 

Jamie raised an eyebrow, but he was catching on by now and figured Wright had information hidden away in his boot somewhere.

 

“Frank here will make sure the Admiral takes charge of your boot,” Jamie replied with a slight jestful smile that Jim returned before speaking once again.

 

“How did Lee get injured?”

 

“We don't know yet,” Jamie replied.  “He was barely able to tell us about the transponder.”

 

Jim smiled thinking about how handy that “fire extinguisher” had been, and closed his eyes content to let Seaview's medical staff take over.

 

* * * * *

 

Sickbay was darkened as Jim felt a hand to his shoulder and roused expecting to find a corpsman over the top of him, then chuckled softly when he was wrong.

 

“Hey there, Jim,” Lee said sitting in a chair beside him and speaking softly.  Jim noticed he looked across the room, presumably to see if the med staff was on to him yet.

 

“Hey yourself, Lee,” he replied.  “Aren't you supposed to be half-comatose or something?” he joked to cover his real concern.

 

“You know what they say, 'Hard head' and all,” he answered with a grin.  “I heard you waking up, just wanted to see how you're doing,” he continued, obviously still in pain as the lines across his forehead and beside his eyes indicated his headache was still going strong.

 

“I'm good thanks to you,” Jim said losing the banter and getting serious.  “I wouldn't have had time to arrange a pick-up Lee, I'm pretty sure they would have had me if you hadn't given me an option.”

 

Lee smiled.  “Did you get what you stayed for?”

 

“Yeah, should be a done deal,” he said.  “There's no going back now at any rate, they got my pretty face on their security camera.  I caught it in the shoulder on my exit, almost made it out clean,” he mused.  “How about you?  Doc says you were whacked pretty hard on the head.”

 

“The details of the actual 'whack' are little fuzzy, but I pretty much remember what happened,” Lee said, scanning his eyes across sickbay and ready to pay the piper if he was caught out of bed.  “I had a tail pretty much from the time I left the cafe; it dawned on me that if I didn't let them catch up to me, they'd know you made contact.”

 

“So you let them take you?” Jim asked incredulously, knowing Lee had sacrificed himself to keep his fellow operative's cover.  Lee nodded slightly and continued.

 

“They did a thorough frisk job, and 'No' they didn't get the disk,” he said with a grin.

 

“I know... I know... they still never look there,” Jim joined in.

 

“Yeah, well I made like they were mugging me, but they dropped your name to get my reaction.”

 

“I knew they were getting close.”

 

“As far as I could tell your cover was still good.  One of the goons left, the other tried to knife me.  I thought I was going to get away clean, but he got the better of me.  I think it was a rock.”

 

“Whew,” Jim blew out a breath.  “Sorry about that, Lee.”

 

“Don't be.  It was worth it to save your cover.”

 

“You saved my life out there...”

 

“No, I think the Admiral and my crew did that for me,” Lee returned, passing off the commendation in his usual form.

 

“It was your fire extinguisher,” Jim said, not letting Lee out of the thanks he wanted to give.  “And your well-trained crew,” he added.

 

Lee dipped his head and smiled.  “Your welcome,” he answered graciously, then reached and patted Jim's shoulder good-naturedly.

 

“Well, I better get back before the corpsman realizes I'm UA from my bunk,” he jested.** 

 

“See you in the morning, Lee.”

 

Lee headed back to his bunk carefully.  He still had a splitting headache, but Jamie promised him something stronger tomorrow.  He was careful to hold onto the upper bunks as he passed; the last thing he needed was to collapse in a heap in front of Jim and then to have to endure a lecture from Jamie to top it off.  He made it to his bunk, celebrating a small victory for not passing out or throwing up along the way, and settled gratefully into the rack.  His out of bed excursion had cost him, and this time he didn't fight the sleep his body so desperately needed.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry sent a short communique to ONI, informing them of the successful mission of retrieving the Intel and the safe extraction of both operatives, now recovering from injuries aboard Seaview.  He made the message short and sweet and as expected, received a message back with the expected questions on the details.  He was able to put them off, as both men were currently out-cold in sickbay, and the CMO hadn't authorized a debrief yet.  That would buy him time until tomorrow, when he'd get the scoop from the spies.  Somewhere in all the accolades for a successful mission well-done, he expected Gerald Johnson to pick up on the fact that he had given Lee an unauthorized transponder and that Lee had passed that on to an operative deep undercover. 

 

Well, too bad, Harry thought.  As far as he was concerned they had the Intel and two of ONI's brightest and best back safely.  The rest was politics and semantics.  You didn't get to be a Four-Star Admiral without weathering your fair share of both politics and word games, so he wasn't worried.

 

It was late and he really needed his rack, but took the time instead to sit back and reflect as he held the small button-sized transponder he'd given Lee.  He found the transponder in Wright's boot, the secret sleeve also providing the hiding place for the slim camera with its disk still inside.  Harry studied the transponder considering the benign courier mission that suddenly blew up in all their faces.  He was glad that Lee did in fact, bring along his safety goggles.  It was his own skill that got him to the extraction point, despite a debilitating head injury.  He couldn't help but smile however, as he considered that the fire extinguisher had indeed come in handy, saving another operative's life.  He sighed contently and made his way to his rack, ready for some much needed shut-eye.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee was sleeping lightly when he heard steps approach his bunk, he figured he was about to be roused for poking, prodding or other medical torture and decided to greet his caregiver.

 

“Hey Sleeping Beauty, going to goldbrick all day?”

 

Lee laughed, careful not to move too much.  He felt better, but “better” was definitely relative.  The concussion would be a long healing process, one that would keep him off his feet for anything more than crossing the room to use the head, at least for a few more days. 

 

“So what have you been doing with my Boat?” he jested back, not missing a beat on the brotherly chiding the two were known to exchange from time to time.

 

Your Boat is running at standard with all systems Go,” Chip Morton replied placing a tray down on the rolling stool and reaching for an extra pillow from another bunk.

 

“Jamie said I could bring you breakfast if you were up for it,” he explained.

 

“Yeah sure, is that coffee I see?” Lee asked as Chip gave him an extra hand, helping him sit up and putting another pillow behind his back.

 

“If you call 'decaf' coffee, then 'Yes',” Chip returned, waiting patiently for Lee to open his eyes, as moving had made him a little dizzy.

 

“Ugh, I hate concussions,” he finally said, opening his eyes and offering a friendly smile as Chip placed his breakfast tray on his lap.

 

“Good thing your head is so hard,” the blond officer teased, then sighed.  “So seriously, what does Jamie say?”

 

“I don't know, he told me something last night about healing, rest, and something about the hyperbaric chamber... is it out for repairs?” he asked, clearly missing much of Jamie's conversation.

 

“Not that I'm aware of,” Chip replied, diving into his own breakfast.  “I think you lost something in the translation,” he quipped.

 

“My head's on a little better today.  I'll ask him to give me the run-down again,” Lee said putting down his fork loaded with scrambled eggs and deferring to the toast instead.  His stomach was still prone to queasiness and moving too much invoked renewed pain in his head.

 

“Oh, before I forget,” Chip said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out Lee's black onyx ring.  “I was going to hock it for a new tennis racket,” he joked as he handed it over to his best friend; all the joking necessary to cover the very emotional ride he endured every time Lee went on an ONI mission like this.

 

“Thanks,” Lee said, taking the ring and sliding it on his finger.

 

“Yeah well, it probably wouldn't have bought me the racket I wanted anyway,” Chip continued to Lee's chuckle, before he lowered his head and sighed. 

 

“Can't tell you how good it is to see you awake, Lee.  When they brought you in, you were out to the world,” he continued seriously, not quite able to shake the picture of Lee in full convulsions.

 

“Yeah, I have to hand it to the SEAL team that picked me up.  I really don't even know if I made it to the designated extraction point or not, but they found me,” Lee returned quietly.  “Who picked me up?”

 

“The Finback.”

 

Lee sighed in resignation.  “I was completely out.  I'll have to look up Rod Hargrove and thank him.”

 

Lee grimaced, squeezing his eyes tight as he reached for his head as Chip leaned forward.

 

“Are you okay, Lee?”

 

“Yeah, this headache is a killer though.”

 

“Do you want me to get Jamie?”

 

“No, I'll try and finish my toast.  He promised me something stronger today, so I'd better try and eat.”

 

“Good plan,” Chip approved as Lee reached for his coffee, grimacing again.

 

“You know, you could have been a pal and snuck some real coffee in the mug when Cookie wasn't looking,” Lee chided good-naturedly.

 

“It's because I am your pal that I didn't,” Chip returned as Lee smiled, resting his head back deeper in his pillow.

 

“I'd ask you for a Boat Status Report, but honestly, I'm pretty sure I'd fall asleep on you,” he said as Chip collected the tray from his lap.  He couldn't believe how drained he felt just sitting up for breakfast.

 

“Well it's pretty early,” Chip replied, noting the time was 0630 and even Jim Wright was still asleep in his bunk.  “Why don't you goldbrick a little more and I'll get you up to speed later.”

 

“Sounds good.  Thanks Chip.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For taking care of things... like you always do,” he said as his eyes dropped heavily.

 

“You just keep coming back Lee, she'll be here waiting for you,” Chip promised quietly, looking down with satisfaction at Lee's left hand where the black onyx ring now sat in its rightful place.  He left sickbay taking the breakfast trays with him, grateful that Lee Crane had made it home once again.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry made his way to the Control Room having spent the last two hours in sickbay.  He'd been authorized to conduct the debriefings of both operatives in lieu of their written reports, to be submitted later; after that, he was to deliver the disks to Washington.  Johnson was anxious to review the schematics and also wanted to take advantage of Harry's own assessment before turning the blueprints over to a team of engineers.  

 

“FS1 is prepped and ready to go, Sir,” Chip replied as Harry approached the Chart Table.

 

“Fine,” he replied, looking over the pre-flight and signing off. 

 

Sharkey stood by helping Harry shrug on his leather flight jacket, as the pair made their way to the deck hatch in the nose.

 

“Have a good trip, Sir,” Chip offered.

 

“Thanks Chip, and keep me in the loop if the situation in sickbay changes,” Harry ordered cryptically.

 

“Aye Sir.”

 

Harry climbed down the ladder and settled into the pilot's seat, while Sharkey took the co-pilot's chair.  He was looking forward to the flight as a welcome diversion from the last two days of tension and worry.  He smiled thinly in anticipation, as he took the dual sticks in his hands.

 

“Launch Chief,” he ordered, as Seaview dropped from her berth.

 

Once they were clear, they applied speed and raced for the surface as FS1 broke the barrier between water and sky with a fantastic vertical take-off.  Harry sighed, it felt good to know that Lee was back, now all he needed to do was to dodge the heavy artillery Johnson was about to throw at him for issuing a second transponder, and thereby altering the official ONI mission parameters. 

 

His smile widened.  He always did love a good sparring match with ONI's head officer, and this one promised to be a real humdinger.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee sat up in the sickbay bunk, wearing his blue robe.  His head dressing had been pared back to just a square on the right side of his forehead.  The actual cut was small enough to use a butterfly bandage as Lee avoided unfortunate stitches and the inevitable scar they would have produced.  The surrounding area was bruised and bore witness to the dangerous blow he had endured.  Across his lap sat the MRI Scans Jamie had taken of this injury, as well as the scan from several months ago.  A third scan sat on Jamie's lap as he held it up to the light for Lee to examine.  He knew his patient was working hard to concentrate, his concussion only days old with several weeks of healing to do before he would be cleared for duty, and then only occasional reports and half days.

 

“This Scan was taken last year, now see this area... this is what we're comparing with the other scans,”

Jamie pointed out.

 

Lee raised a hand to his head and rubbed lightly.

 

“Jamie, I'm having a hard time following the details.  Why don't you just tell me what you're worried about and what we can do about it,” he said, trusting both his CMO's concern and advice.

 

“What I'm saying is the scan from three months ago shows no signs of the injury from last year.”

 

“So I healed up...” he said with a shrug.

 

“But I think you had a little help,” Jamie offered excitedly.  “You see this injury happened before Admiral Falk's atmosphere exchange experiment.”

 

Lee's eyes tightened in curiosity, wondering just where Jamie was going with this line of thought.

 

“I have a friend, Skipper, who has postulated that hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy actually heals white matter injuries.”  He stopped for only a moment before continuing on in excitement.  “Don't you see?  You survived an incredible recompression of 6,000 decibars, and now the white matter injury that was present before is gone!”

 

“So how far along is your friend on his research?” Lee asked, tiring from the heavy conversation.

 

“He's still gathering data, but what he's found so far is very promising.  You of all people know the dangers of concussions.  Even if you heal now and return to full duty, the white matter may still be affected.  Sometime in the future there's a very real possibility that it could impair your memory or ability to learn... even your balance and coordination.”

 

“I know Jamie.  I've always known, but I just can't stop being who I am.”

 

“I know that Skipper, that's why I'd like for you to consider participating in the research.  If Collin's research proves true, then you won't have to pay the price later for your duty today.”

 

Lee sighed as he considered, it was starting to hurt thinking this much, but he knew it was important; not only to Jamie, but possibly his very future.

 

“Half of those head injuries were on Top Secret Missions, Jamie,” he said, considering carefully the doctor's suggestion.  “I'm afraid the details of the injuries would be considered classified.”

 

Jamie blew a breath out in disappointment.  “I hadn't thought of that Skipper.”

 

Lee thought a moment more, before offering another solution.

 

“Why don't we do this, Jamie?  You get in touch with your friend and offer him a non-clinical subject, meaning you can't give him my medical records, but you can talk in generalities and get his suggestions for treatment.  I give you permission to share the results verbally but not to exchange records for the actual research.  I can't afford for that data to show up in the medical journals someday,” he qualified.  “But at least this way he can benefit from the knowledge you share, and just maybe I'll get to benefit from his research from afar.”

 

Jamie's eyes lit up.  “Yes, I'm sure he would be interested, even if he can't use you as a case study.  I'll call him right away.” 

 

Jamie stopped and lowered his head, studying the MRI Scan sitting across his lap almost absently. 

 

“I really think this has merit, Skipper.  I really think it's the answer for your future.”

 

Lee smiled, Jamie's commitment to his health was evident; not only as his doctor but clearly as his friend.

 

“I trust you, Jamie.  Have you talked with the Admiral about this?”

 

“Yes, and he told me this was your decision.”

 

“Then it's decided.  You find out what your friend suggests.  I'd like to maintain the right to approve or disapprove the treatment.”

 

“Absolutely,” Jamie agreed, then sighed in relief.  “Well then... I'll get right on it Skipper,” he said, then collected the MRI Scans as Lee tilted his head back heavily on the pillow.

 

It was a lot to take in just now, but he always knew that someday the dangerous life he led may catch up with him.  If this was a chance to avoid losing the life he loved, he was willing to try.

 

* * * * *

 

Sharkey sat in Admiral Johnson's outer office cringing at the sounds coming from the closed door.  Johnson's secretary typed along as if World War III weren't threatening to break out from the other side of the door; apparently immune to the occasional loud discussions that often occurred from behind that door.  The sounds were muffled and Sharkey figured the walls had extra thick insulation, because he could almost feel the vibrations of the loud decibels reverberating through the closed doors.  He figured Admiral Nelson was up for whatever the ONI Chief threw at him and shook his head, grateful that he wasn't sitting in there in the middle of the fray.

 

* * * * *

 

“Successful mission aside!” Johnson yelled.  “Successful retrieval of two operatives aside!” he continued, getting louder with each statement.  “You were NOT authorized to issue that second transponder.  I specifically gave you a Stand-Down order should Lee Crane miss his extraction.  Was that order misunderstood?”

 

“Blast it, Gerald!” Harry yelled back.  “I gave him a second option if his government issue was inadvertently damaged.”

 

“Convenient Harry!” Johnson returned.  “But if I had wanted to give Commander Crane a back-up transponder, I WOULD HAVE GIVEN HIM ONE!” he finished in fine Mad-As-Hell Admiral form.

 

“So which part would you have liked to have gone differently?  The part about your inside man not coming back with the most important part of the schematics?  Because that's what it amounts to.  He didn't have time to make contact, Gerald.  He would have bled out on that beach and you would have never known what happened to him; and his disk would have been gone forever,” Harry added almost triumphantly.

 

“You don't know that!” Gerald countered, deflating back into his chair.

 

Harry sat back as well, huffing out a loud sigh as the two admirals stared each other down from across the desk.  He breathed a cleansing breath out then smiled. 

 

“Well, now that we got the necessary dramatics out of the way... what are you going to tell the Congressional Committee?”

 

Gerald blew out his own breath of hard fought resignation, then leaned over on his elbows with his hands folded before him.

 

“That I authorized you to issue Lee a backup transponder, which he gave sacrificially to the undercover operative, who used it to complete his mission,” Gerald recited, but then shook a knowing finger at Harry.

 

“But you and I both know that you're getting away with a 'Bust me on the Surface' order,” he said, chuckling as their expected sparring match reached its boiling point and was now simmering to the point that the two Four-Stars could now communicate as friends.***

 

Gerald's countenance changed as he stood and rounded his desk to offer Harry a handshake.

 

“Heck of a job out there Harry,” he conceded.  “These blueprints will level the playing field and keep our installations safe.  Well done.”

 

Harry shook his hand, offering his own tight lipped smile in return.

 

“One more thing,” Gerald continued.  “You mentioned something about a “fire extinguisher”? he inquired as he guided Harry over to a credenza.  He slid open the door and pulled out a decanter and two shot glasses nodding for Harry to join him on the couch for some unofficial celebrating.

 

Harry chuckled.  “Did I ever tell you about the time I blew up my basement...?”

 

* * * * *

 

Harry spent the next two days pouring over the blueprints and offering his take in a report before he and Sharkey shoved off to return to Seaview. 

 

Sharkey was happy to note the Admiral's good mood and responded with his own Can-Do attitude, accompanied with a bubbly smile.

 

“Well Francis, are you ready to get back to Seaview?” Harry asked relaxed and at ease.

 

“Aye Sir,” Sharkey replied with a smile and feeling like all was right in the world.

 

* * * * *

 

“Come,” Lee said, sitting at his desk in his robe trying to make headway on his ONI After Action Report.

 

“Hey Lee,” Jim Wright greeted as he entered Lee's cabin, dressed in civvies with his arm in a sling.  “My ride will be here soon,” he explained.  “I just wanted a chance to thank you again,” he said, reaching over Lee's desk to offer a firm handshake.

 

“I'm just glad it worked out,” Lee returned.  “You're a good operative, Jim.  Take care out there.”

 

“You too, Lee.  And thanks for taking that hit on the head for me,” he said still holding onto the handshake and acknowledging Lee's sacrifice in allowing himself to be caught so that his pursuers wouldn't suspect he was a trained operative.  “I wouldn't have made it home without you,” he added sincerely.

 

“Anytime Jim.” 

 

They finished the shake as Jim stepped back and issued a smart salute, something the operatives usually did without unless in uniform.  Lee returned the salute, accepting Jim's respect and thanks in the gesture. 

 

“See you around, Lee.”

 

“See you around, Jim.”

 

Lee watched as the door closed behind him and settled back into his chair.  Seaview had surfaced and was waiting for Jim's chopper ride.  He would have loved to have seen him off, but that wasn't going to happen in his bath robe, as he had been discharged from sickbay with the promise that he'd rest in his cabin; he needed to honor that agreement.  Besides, he was still suffering from dizziness and nausea, the last thing he needed was his crew scooping him off the deck somewhere. 

 

He sighed with satisfaction at the successful mission, pleased that the Intel had been retrieved and that ONI hadn't added any unmarked stars to its fallen comrade memorial.

 

His pleasant mood was enhanced as he felt the flying sub's bay doors open to receive back Seaview's creator and designer. 

 

He was feeling better, and looking forward to a real visit with Harry.  He hadn't had a real chance yet to thank him for the transponder and thought about how different the mission would have been without Harry's fire extinguisher.  He smiled, determined to tell Harry how he felt.

 

* * * * *

 

“Okay Skipper.  The protocol is one hundred dives, with a break at forty and eighty dives for the MRI Scans, then we'll finish the final twenty and take one final round of scans,” Jamie explained through the com system in the hyperbaric chamber as Lee settled in with a book, a report and the promise to rest.

 

“Very well Jamie,” Lee replied, happy that he was at least dressed in khaki's, even if he wasn't cleared for duty; he absolutely hated walking around Seaview in a robe.

 

“I'll check in on you later, Lee,” Harry said with a wave as Lee returned the gesture and settled in for the oxygen therapy with Jamie's words fresh in his mind: “If Collin's research proves true, then you won't have to pay the price later for your duty today.”

 

* * * * *

 

Jamie was ecstatic with each successive MRI Scan.  He was clearly impressed and felt that along with the natural healing process that would occur over the next four to six weeks, Lee was well on his way to a complete recovery.  He would check Lee again once his recovery period was complete, confer with Collin, and if necessary schedule another session in the chamber.  But for now, he could rest easy that he had a plan to keep the brilliant, sharp mind of Lee Crane well and whole.  He sat back in his chair and sighed contently at the medical victory he had participated in, if only in a small way.

 

* * * * *

 

“Come in,” Harry said, as he looked up and greeted Lee with a smile.

 

“Got a minute, Sir?” he asked as he rounded the door wearing a robe over light blue pajamas, as it was late in the evening.

 

“Of course, Lee.  Come in.  How are you feeling?”

 

“Better; still dizzy from time to time, but I think I'll live,” he replied with an easy smile, while taking a seat on the rack.

 

Harry caught the sight of Lee dangling his legs over the edge of the rack and held back a smile, thinking he looked a bit like a kid waiting anxiously for a bedtime story. 

 

“I was just looking over the notes I took on the Stealth Generator,” Harry said, rustling through a few papers before him.

 

“Is that what they're calling it?” Lee asked curiously.

 

“Hmm,” Harry answered for his “yes”. 

 

“It really is quite simple,” Harry started and then proceeded to explain the inner workings of the electronics involved to actually appear to rearrange the air molecules around an aircraft's incursion on forbidden territory, then to extrapolate the same molecules in the shape of the aircraft, producing a stealth approach in the camouflage the Stealth Generator created.

 

Lee rubbed the side of his head, a moderate concussion still healing as he smiled.

 

“I'm afraid you'll have to run that by me again sometime,” he admitted with a chuckle as Harry looked over and smiled.  He was well aware that Lee was fully capable of understanding the engineering and science behind the Stealth Generator but was currently handicapped by a severe knock to his head, less than a week old no less.

 

“You know,” Harry said, turning and placing the Top Secret notes into his safe.  “I'm still amazed that Jamie was able to put two seemingly unrelated events together and come up with the hyperbaric chamber treatment.”

 

Lee nodded.  “If the research holds true, it will be a tremendous break-through with potential to help many people in the future,” he noted.  “Who would have guessed Admiral Falk's experiment would have been the catalyst for Jamie to pursue the study?”

 

“Very true,” Harry noted and then sighed contently.  For just a moment he could hear the stinging words of their exchange in this very office last year.

 

“A life was lost,” Harry replied, completely blindsided by Lee's cavalier attitude insisting that the Atmospheric Exchange experiment continue without further tests.  “I don't want to risk even one life until I'm absolutely convinced the system works,” he finished passionately, unaware that Falk had issued his own convincing argument, leaving Lee in the middle of this seemingly battle of the admirals.

 

“You resent his grandstanding so much,” Lee countered in the heated exchange, “I wonder if you want the dive to succeed,” he spat out too quickly to pull back and immediately recognized his mistake.  It was a conversation that would have never happened between superior and subordinate alone, but indeed only happened because the two men were friends.

 

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asked flabbergasted that Lee would even consider the possibility.  “Are you trying to say I'm jealous of Bentley Falk?”

 

Harry's words stung as Lee realized that he knew Admiral Nelson better than that.

 

“Of course not, Admiral,” he replied contritely, but the damage had been done as he exited the cabin feeling like a fool for speaking out of turn and wondering if it could be fixed.

 

The stinging exchange faded as quickly as the memory spawned as Harry realized that he and Lee were even closer now than before Falk's experiment.  In the end, though the atmospheric exchange formula and equipment worked, the issues of the rising temperatures hadn't been resolved and Harry hadn't ruled out that the oxygen tank explosion on board the test hull was unrelated either.  Though Seaview went down in the record books for the deepest dive of a man-made submersible, it was a feat that he feared would go unchallenged for many years to come.  Perhaps never again as the real genius, Dr. Archer, was the only man who understood the intricacies of his invention.

 

Though the memory was unpleasant, it was also a milestone for their relationship, for only friends of the deepest caliber could tread through the waters they had and come out better friends on the other side.

 

Harry smiled openly.

 

“Did I ever tell you about the time I rigged a piñata to explode?  I was only nine at the time...” Harry continued as Lee chuckled and settled in for another tale showcasing the genius of a young boy who would grow up to be the creator of the finest submarine on earth. 

 

“Something tells me your butler was ready with the fire extinguisher again,” Lee quipped, joining in the fun.

 

“I'm getting to that,” Harry said, sliding onto his desk to continue his story. “You see it really was quite safe, and there was no harm done, but James my butler...”

 

As Lee sat there laughing at the story he couldn't help but admire Harry; marveling at his good fortune to be counted among Admiral Harriman Nelson's good friends, and extremely grateful that he had made it home once again to enjoy that friendship.

 

 

The End

Coming Home

 

 

Author's Notes and Credits:

* The first season episode, The Condemned was written by William Read Woolfield, directed by Leonard Horn, original air date, April 12, 1965.  My story contains paraphrases, plots, and direct quotes from the episode.  I have often felt that the scene with Harry and Lee in his office, after the accident needed more.  Harry's good mood was misinterpreted by Lee (and likely the audience as well) and needed an expansion of scenes to fill in the blanks for his motivation.  I provided the motivation completely from Harry's POV to help us understand his position better.  Hope you enjoyed my take on this classic episode.

 

**UA – Means Unauthorized Absence and is the correct term for AWOL in the Navy

 

***Bust Me on The Surface - (Submarine Service): An expression used when a subordinate strongly disagrees with an order given by a superior (who may be under heavy situational pressure) and the subordinate takes actions which are correct but counter to the order. The expression references the disciplinary action which could result in the fresh air of safety that would not be reached if the original order were carried out. Rarely used.   Sourced from wiktionary.org under Navy Terminology and Slang.

This story was inspired by an article I read recently about Joe Namath and a therapy he is currently endorsing for concussions.  I thought, “How perfect, a hyperbaric chamber!  No wonder Lee has survived so many whacks on the head, it's the recompression from deep dives!”  I couldn't pass up the opportunity to work it into a story.  I mean, if it worked for Broadway Joe, why not for my favorite hero?  : )

 

Original Article and Research Credits:

http://www.foxbusiness.com/business-leaders/2015/12/10/concussion-cure-joe-namath-says-hyperbaric-treatments-work/?intcmp=hphz27

http://www.foxnews.com/health/2014/02/04/concussions-cause-change-in-brain-matter-inflammation.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_matter