FALSE IMAGE
By
Angela Field
Chip Morton glanced up at Kowalski as he came up to
him. “Sir, Sparks has the Captain for you.” Morton gave him a quick nod and
unclipped the mic from the side of the chart table.
“Sparks, put the Captain on,” he said quickly, waiting
for the confirming click before speaking. “Lee? Finally decided to join us have
you?” the blonde Exec put a note of sarcasm in his voice, knowing perfectly
well that Crane would see right through it.
Lee knew that Morton would be relieved to have the Captain back on board
the SSRN Seaview.
“I wanted to see what you’ve done to my boat while
I’ve been away,” Crane replied dryly. “I’ve got you in sight now. You should be able to see me.”
Chip took a couple of long steps away from the chart
table and gazed out across the rolling blue waves beyond the observation ports
in the sub’s nose. It took him only a
few seconds to pick out the shape of the Flying Sub. Admiral Nelson came up behind him as he spoke
into the mic again. “Yes, we have you in sight.
All repairs completed?”
“No problem, but they have recommended armour plating
for the next time.”
Chip chuckled in amusement. “Come off it, Lee, you
know as well as I do that you love the change to get back to Tanya. Enjoy yourself, did you?” Morton envied Crane his relationship with the
blonde, blue eyed marine biologist. He
didn’t envy him the fact that Nelson doted on the girl like a daughter.
“You could say that,” the Captain answered
pleasantly. “By the way, I hear you and
Fiona have been talking about me.”
“Would I?”
Fiona was Chip’s own girlfriend.
A friend of Tanya’s, she had been
attached to NIMR as the Institutes psychiatrist for some time.
“Yeah, you would.
I’ve heard some interesting things about you and Fiona and the kinks in
your psyche.”
Chip shot an uneasy look at the listening
Admiral. He found himself starting the
blush under Nelson’s interested, amuse gaze.
“Lee, let’s keep the kinks in my psyche between you and me, okay?”
“Oh, I don’t know, the Admiral might like to...” The
mic let out a sudden vicious snarl of static at the same moment that the
Admiral let out a gasp of horror. “Lee,”
he said faintly.
Chip whirled around to look, feeling panic clench its
grip on his soul. Where the Flying Sub
had been was only a blossoming ball of scarlet flame and thick smoke. “No!” Chip protested the sight as he dropped
the mic. Behind him he heard a confused
burst of noise that was the shock of the crew, but Chip couldn’t look away from
the plunging manta ray shape of the Flying Sub as she crash-dived into the
waves. Smoke boiled upwards at the
impact and the craft started to sink.
Taking a deep breath, Nelson shook off his dismay and
grabbed the Exec’s arm, his fingers dug in too hard. “Get a rescue party out there.”
“Lee,” was all Chip could manage in his shock.
“Chip! The rescue party! Pull yourself together, man.” Nelson roared the command and shook the young
officer hard.
Morton threw him off and turned grimly to issue the
commands. His expression was almost
haunted.
****
There was water in his mouth and nose and eyes and he
was sinking, drowning in an ocean that had always been his friend. Fighting a panic stricken urge to breathe in
that would certainly be fatal, Lee kicked out desperately for the surface, flailing
past the sinking wreckage from the Flying Sub. So much for the repair, he thought hysterically. Then the surface shattered around him into a
thousand glittering shards of light and he gasped in a grateful breath of air,
turning over to float on his back. His
ribs throbbed from the impact of the crash and his ears were ringing from a
crack on the head. As he explored the
back of his head for damage, his thoughts started to coalesce back into order,
clearing slowly; like his blurred vision.
Darkness flitted around the edge of his mind, threatening to suck him
under. Vaguely, he was aware that he
shouldn’t answer the siren call of sleep.
Lee none the less found his eyes drifting shut against his will; the
wash of the waves felt soothing around his tired and aching body.
* * *
Sharkey knelt in the bow of the dinghy, scanning the
waves anxiously. There was no sign of
the Captain. What if he was trapped inside?
How do I tell the Admiral?
“Chief, over there!”
Kowalski grabbed at the older man’s shoulder, half deafening him with
his yell. Behind him, Patterson was already slipping over the side of the boat
and striking out for the dark haired figure in the water.
“Bring us about,” Sharkey hid his own feelings behind
the crisp order. In a moment Kowalski
was bringing the boat alongside his fellow crewman and the Captain and helping
Patterson and Sharkey pull the unconscious man on board.
****
Wincing in pain, Lee twisted and glared furiously at
Jamieson. The genial-faced man was
carefully stitching a messy gash in the officer’s shoulder.
“It wouldn’t hurt so much if you’d keep still,” he
pointed out bluntly.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Crane retorted
sarcastically, but obediently faced forward again. Cradling his bruised and
aching ribs, he wriggled slightly in an effort to get comfortable.
“Captain,” Jamieson reproached.
Lee snorted and sat to attention, giving his CMO a
frosty glare that only made Jamieson smile, unabashed. Before Crane could comment, however, there
was a light tap at the door and Nelson stuck his head in.
“Are you decent, Lee?” he asked mildly.
“Sure, come on in,” Lee was glad of the distraction
even if Jamieson wasn’t. The Admiral was
followed by Morton. “What is this? An audience?” irritation made Crane snap before
he saw the anxious way Chip was looking him over.
“I thought you’d been killed!” Morton protested
indignantly.
Lee stared for a second, then flushed slightly. “Sorry, Chip.
Didn’t mean to growl,” he apologised and shot a look at Jamieson as he
patted the young man’s shoulder.
“There, Captain, all finished. You sit still while I get a dressing for
that.”
Lee nodded and winced slightly as his head spun. His vision had cleared, but the hammer
pounding away at his temples was only increasing in tempo. Seeing Nelson and Morton watching him in
concern, he decided to distract them. “You know it was a bomb, don’t you?” Not a malfunction?”
“A bomb? Are you sure?” Chip exclaimed while Nelson
looked thoughtful.
“What do you think I am? An idiot? Of course I’m sure,” Lee scowled at
them. “It blew out the inertial guidance
system and I lost control. The blast
practically knocked me out cold. I was
lucky the hatch didn’t buckle on impact,” Lee looked uncertainly at
Nelson. “You build them sound, sir.”
Nelson smiled faintly and Chip relaxed.
He absently put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, meaning to offer
comfort. Instead, Crane almost leaped
off the table with a yelp of pain. “Ah!
Chip, don’t do that!”
Horrified, Chip snatched his hand back. “I’m sorry, I
didn’t think.”
Crane gave him a filthy look that softened as he took
note of the genuine contrition on his Exec’s face. “It’s okay Chip, I’m sore that’s all,” he
said with a grimace of pain. Jamieson
caught him out as he returned with a carefully folded sling. “I thought you said a dressing, not a sling,”
Crane protested warily as he eyed the doctor.
“It’s either a sling, or you stay here,” Jamieson
answered flatly. “And I’d rather you
stayed here.”
Crane gave him a ferocious scowl as Morton
interrupted. “Take it, Lee. The crew need to see you around. They all thought that you’d been killed.”
Lee flicked a glance at his friend and met his blue
eyes for a second. With a tired sigh of
resignation, he surrendered to the inevitable.
As Crane gloomily let Jamieson ease his arm into the sling, Nelson drew
Morton to one side.
“Speaking of the crew, anyone I don’t know on board?”
“The only stranger is Professor Blake and you know
him, sir. May I ask why?”
“Someone wanted to kill Lee. I’m not entirely sure he’s safe yet.”
****
Returning to the control room, Morton tapped Sharkey’s
arm and drew him to one side. “Chief, I want you to do something for me. I don’t want you to let the Captain out of
your sight.”
“Sir?” Sharkey looked at him blankly. “Is he okay?”
“He has a concussion, but that isn’t the reason. Someone planted a bomb on SF.1, probably to
kill him. Chip explained, appreciating
the way Sharkey bristled in protective anger.
“I want someone with him at all times; either you, me or the
Admiral. I also want a permanent guard
on his cabin. No-one to go in or out, Kowalski and Patterson can help out
there.”
“Yes, sir.
Sir?” Sharkey said hesitantly as Morton turned away.
“What is it?”
“Does the Captain know about the guard?” Sharkey asked
warily. If he knew the Captain, Crane
wasn’t going to like this idea one little bit.
From the way Morton bit back a small smile the OX knew it too.
“No, but if he asks, it’s the Admiral’s orders.”
****
Lee turned
slowly from the observation port to eye Morton in disgust. He had made a slow
tour of the boat, letting himself be seen by the crew and both warmed and
embarrassed by their obvious relief at seeing him. “Admiral’s orders? He repeated Chip’s words
carefully. “I need a babysitter? My concussion’s not that bad.”
“A body guard,” the Exec correct him.
“On my own sub?” Lee exclaimed.
“Someone didn’t want you here,” Morton pointed out.
“How did you figure that?”
“I didn’t, the Admiral did,” Chip admitted
reluctantly.
“Oh, did he?
Well, maybe I’ll have a little talk with him. Where is he?” The Captain growled.
Chip sighed.
Crane was using that tone again; the one that had stalactites forming on
it. “With Professor Blake,” Morton answered gloomily. He took a step after Crane when the dark
haired man turned to go. Lee frowned and
turned a hazel green glare on him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“With you,” Chip offered hopefully.
“No, you are not,” Crane bit off each word off
sharply. Swinging on his heels, he
stalked off the control deck. Chip winced
at what amounted to a direct order stopping him in his tracks. On the other hand it didn’t stop Sharkey
trotting after his commanding officer with only a quick glance at Morton for
permission.
****
Nelson was in his cabin alone when Crane finally
tracked him down. Sharkey hovered
outside after the door slammed shut, waiting nervously and doing his best not
to listen to the raised voices inside.
Finally the door was flung open and Crane stalked out, fixing Sharkey
with a gaze that dripped icicles.
Standing in the doorway behind him, Nelson smiled faintly at the young
man’s frustration.
“Don’t forget your bodyguard,” he told him politely.
Crane swung around to face him and from the expression
on his face it was a close thing as to whether or not he actually hit him. Taking a deep breath as his bandaged ribs
would allow him, Lee turned back to Sharkey.
“Come along, Chief. I’m going to
my cabin,” he said in a voice that dripped with sarcastic venom. “I wouldn’t want to get lost all by myself.”
****
Crane paced the floor of his cabin in silent fury,
feeling almost trapped. Abruptly coming
to a halt, he frowned at the desk in concentrated thought. Accepting that someone wanted to kill him and
that whoever it was had to be on the Seaview, what was the reason? There was no-one in the crew with a motive
that he knew of. No-one new had joined the
crew recently and if it was a crew member, well there were easier ways.
So who else was there?
Who was left? Professor Blake? No,
Lee knew him too well through Tanya.
After all she had introduced him to the marine biologist. In fact Crane was the only one on the Seaview
who had ever met him before. Nelson had
even commented on it, saying it would be helpful if the Captain could join them
and make the scientist feel more at home.
Blake seemed to have been having trouble with the crew.
Thoughtfully running one hand through his dark hair,
Lee glanced at the door. What if it
wasn’t Professor Blake at all? What if the man we have on board is an imposter? Or am I
being paranoid? Lee laughed softly at his own suspicions, but his amusement
didn’t last long. Too many pieces
fitted. There was only one way to find
out, talk directly to Blake himself.
Smiling wickedly, Crane turned his attention to the air conditioning
vent.
Seaview’s air conditioning vents ran from one end of
the submarine to the other and it wasn’t the first time that Crane had had
reason to be grateful for their presence.
Wriggling up to the grating that led into the corridor outside the
laboratory, Lee eased the mesh screen out then slid through the gap and dropped
neatly to the deck. After pressing the screen back into place, Lee brushed his
hands clean on his pants and glanced warily up and down the passageway, it
would be embarrassing if any of the crew noted their Captain sneaking around
like a teenager caught out after hours.
No-one was in sight, so Crane walked over to the
laboratory and pushed the door open. The
room was empty and Crane wasn’t sure whether or not to be disappointed. Sighing faintly, he headed over to the ship’s
intercom and took the mic from its clip.
Chip was going to be very annoyed that Lee had managed to give his
bodyguard the slip, but there was no way he was going to explain how he had
done it. He clicked the switch twice to
clear the channel.
“I wondered how long it would take you to figure it
out, Captain,” the low voice came from behind him and Crane swung around to face
the speaker in surprise. His hand closed
instinctively over the mic, unconsciously holding the transmit button down. He had never seen the stockily build man
before, but he recognised the S&W .38 in his hand all too easily. The weapon flicked at the mic impatiently.
“Hang up, Captain.
You’re not calling anyone.”
Lee hesitated before reluctantly obeying the command.
“So, you’ve the man pretending to be Professor Blake?” Lee said quietly,
surprising himself by how calm he sounded.
“Correct,” the man replied. “But you can go ahead and call me Blake. I have no intention of telling you my real
name. And in a few minutes it won’t make
any difference to you anyway,” he motioned Crane to close the door. “Wouldn’t want anyone to overhear us, now
would we?” he said mockingly.
Crane half shrugged, wincing as a twinge of pain from
his shoulder reminded him that he wasn’t exactly fighting fit. “Since you are obviously going to kill me…”
“Obviously.”
“You won’t object to answering a couple of questions
for me?”
“Only a couple Captain? You surprise me.”
Crane ignored the sarcasm. “Where’s the real Professor?”
“As far as I know, he’s in the Bahamas on a well
earned vacation,” Blake replied mildly.
The thought flashed though Lee’s mind that he wouldn’t
have minded being in the Bahamas himself right then. “Why?” he demanded with a flash of rising
fury.
“Why am I going to kill you?” he man asked, being
deliberately obtuse.
“I know why,” Crane said bitterly. “I know you’re not
the real Professor. I meant, why are you
doing this? Simply to kill me?”
Don’t flatter yourself, Captain,” Blake sneered and
moved closer, smiling without warmth at the younger man as he closed the range
until he couldn’t possibly miss. His
merciless black eyes held all the humanity of a shark’s. “But since you asked, I’ll tell you. The Seaview is a very valuable piece of
property and soon to be mine.”
“I think the crew might have something to say about
that,” Crane pointed out. “You’re only
one man, after all. How do you plan to
do it?”
“You’ve had your couple of questions, Crane. But go ahead; it makes no difference to
me. You’re not going to tell anyone what
you know.” Blake shrugged and his chill
smile never reached his eyes. “The answer is nerve gas. You will only be shortly ahead of your crew
in your trip to Mr Jones’ locker. I can
then salvage the Seaview at my leisure.”
“That’s cold blooded murder!” Crane exclaimed in
horror. Blake frowned at him with a
touch of confusion.
“You seem more concerned with the cold blooded murder
of your crew, as you put it, than you do with your own life,” he said sharply.
“Maybe I am,” Crane replied coldly. “But I can’t see you getting away with
it. You’ll be killed too.”
“No, I plan to be in the decompression chamber when
the canisters release the gas. It will take a few hours for the filtration
system to clear the air, but after that the Seaview will be all mine.”
“And then what?
You can’t sail her alone.”
“I won’t need to, my associates will be awaiting my
call. I will be paid most handsomely and
the best thing about it is that on-one will know what I did,” Blake smirked as
he saw Crane’s eyes widen in puzzlement. “Salvage rights, Captain. A tragic accident kills the entire crew and I
am the only survivor. My associates will
have perfect right to claim the Seaview as salvage.”
“And the fact that her Captain’s body has a bullet in
it?”
“They won’t find it I assure you. Torpedo tubes are extremely convenient aren’t
they?”
“You’re insane,” Lee breathed in horror. The trouble was that Blake, or whatever his
real name was, had a plan that could well succeed. A shiver of dread ran down the Captain’s back
as he eyed the gun and estimated the chances of taking it away from Blake; remote
to none, he reckoned. But he had to do
something. The gunman’s eyes narrowed
angrily, clearly not satisfied by Crane’s implacable expression.
“At this point Crane, you should really say something
like; you’ll never get away with it.”
”You clearly think you can. Why should I waste any time arguing the
point?”
Blake inclined his head in agreement. “Very true,” he
admitted. As he lifted the gun, Crane launched his desperate attack. Blake pulled the trigger in sheer reflex as
the officer moved. Lee jerked back in
shock, the hammer like blow to his ribs knocking him sprawling back against the
bulkhead with the brute force of the impact.
Sliding to his knees, Lee clutched instinctively at his chest and
dazedly peered up at Blake as the man lent over him. Blake looked angry for some reason, Lee noted
dizzily.
“My apologies, Captain,” Blake said in an almost
polite tone as he lifted the gun and aimed carefully between Crane’s hazel
eyes.
Apologies for what? Lee
wondered vaguely. By now he was having
trouble breathing around the fire in his chest and the pain seemed to beat in
time to his pulse.
“I’m usually much more efficient. I don’t like to see anything suffering.”
You hypocrite! With un-natural clarity, Lee could see
Blake taking up first pressure on the S&W’s trigger. For some reason he thought that that was
important, that he should be more scared than he was, but somehow he no longer
had the energy to be afraid. The crack
of a shot made Crane blink and wonder vaguely why there was no extra pain. He peered at Blake groggily as the man swayed
over him and then staggered a step or two backwards, half turning towards the
door. The gunman folded suddenly,
hitting the deck in an untidy sprawl; an ugly and unmistakable stain spread
across his back. Concentrating hard and
scrubbing the perspiration from his eyes as it stung, Lee struggled to focus
past his assailant. Even that small
effort was almost too much for him.
Chip Morton and the Admiral stood in the doorway,
staring back at Lee in shock, Nelson still held a smoking gun. “Lee?” Chip questioned uncertainly as he
hurried forward and knelt anxiously beside his friend. “How bad is it?”
How should I know? Lee
couldn’t speak around the taste of in his mouth. He eyed his chest in distress, noting the
scarlet blood oozing messily through his fingers. Swallowing hard, he eased his hand away from
his torn chest and looked miserably at the blood, wincing at his horrified
expression. The gas, gotta tell... Someone was shouting something urgently in
the distance as Lee focused intently on Morton and clawed at his shirt. He clung to his friend as Chip put his arm
around him.
“I’m here, Lee. Doc’s on his way, hold on, please.”
That’s not it, you
idiot. The words wouldn’t come out. Pain in his chest and back robbed him of the
breath to speak. A pit of oblivion
opened up to engulf him. Lee fought it
desperately, but the instinct of his battered body to pass out won and
unconsciousness dragged him down without permission.
“No! Lee!” Chip yelped in fright as Lee slumped into
his arms and his frantic grip slipped from his friend’s shirt. Morton’s panic brought Nelson to his side
fast. Seizing the wounded man’s wrist,
Nelson felt for his pulse, then shifted anxiously to his throat. Locating a faint, thready pulse he let out a
breath of relief. Blood spread across
Lee’s ribs in the same way as it had on the chest of the man who had shot him.
And for Blake, Nelson could find no pity.
No pity at all.
Jamieson sprinted in a moment later, paling as he saw
Crane. A Corpsman followed hot on his
heels. Crouching beside the three men,
Jamieson shouldered Nelson to one side and felt for the Captain’s pulse. With a worried frown he then stripped Lee’s
arm and tapped at his pale flesh to find a vein for an IV. As he slid the IV into place, he studied the
bullet wound carefully. “Looks like the bullet is still in there,” he commented
grimly. “What about Blake?”
The Corpsman was crouched beside the other man and at
Jamieson’s question, glanced up and shook his head.
“Nothing you can do for him,” Nelson said
bleakly. Jamieson scowled at his tone,
but said nothing. Nelson and Morton’s
shock would have to wait. Right now
Jamieson was too busy attempting to save Crane to worry about the officers.
Noting Jamieson’s worried distraction, Nelson eased
back a little further out of his way and looked at the XO. Chip looked almost as pale as Crane himself
as he cradled his friend on his knees and stroked his shoulder in an
unconscious effort to soothe him as Lee twitched in pain.
****
Jamieson had Crane moved down to Sickbay as soon as he
had the Captain stable enough to do so.
Lee was by no means out of danger and needed immediate attention.
“Is he alive?” parted from Crane, Chip felt lost.
“Yes, he’s alive.
Now get out of here and I’ll do my best to keep him that way,” Jamieson
snapped without looking up from his patient.
His Corpsman was assisting him in removing the last of Crane’s clothes
and preparing him for surgery.
“Doc, we’ll head for Santa Barbara,” Nelson offered
and was ignored, although the Corpsman glanced up and nodded.
“I’ll tell him, Sir.”
He offered, knowing that Jamieson’s full attention was taken up by
Crane. The Admiral hesitated before
taking Morton’s arm and guiding him out into the corridor. Sickbay was no place for either of them
during surgery. “Mr Morton, pull
yourself together,” he ordered. The snap
of command in his voice made Chip blink and glare at him. “I know, Chip,” Nelson’s sharp voice softened.
“But you can’t do Lee any good moping.”
For a second Chip continued to stare at the stocky
senior officer, before taking a deep breath and dragged one hand through his
blond hair, ruffling its usually neat appearance. “I feel so damn helpless, and I’m sure there
was something he wanted to tell me.”
****
It was a struggle to climb back from the pit when
oblivion beckoned so sweetly from the darkness.
But the danger to his boat and crew wouldn’t let him rest and he fought
to open his eyes, fraction by fraction.
Jamieson was leaning over him, smiling reassuringly. Something cold slid into his arm and the pain
in his chest chilled to something manageable.
“You have to rest, Lee. We’re on our way to Santa Barbara.”
“Chip?” Lee croaked the request.
“Later, when you’re stronger.”
“No,” Lee insisted and scrabbled weakly at the
blankets over him. “S’portant...Jamie...please.”
Jamieson frowned, worried by his patient’s feeble
demand. Perhaps if he let him have what
he wanted, he might rest. “Okay, Lee,
lie still, I’ll fetch him.”
Chip arrived at a sprint when Jamieson called. “Talk to him, Mr Morton. Calm him down and
for crying out loud don’t let him talk too much.” Jamieson warned the Exec.
Chip nodded obediently, determined to reassure his
friend. A minute or so later he was
leaning over Lee, frightened by the grey pallor of his tanned features and the
harsh rasp of his breathing. “Lee? It’s
me, you wanted me?”
“Chip?” Lee’s hazel green eyes fluttered open,
unfocused and glazed with the effects of drugs and pain.
“I’m here,” Chip caught his hand as Lee reached for
him weakly. A gasp escaped him as the IV
reminded him of its presence with a sharp stab in his forearm.
Morton leaned closer, striving to hear what he was
mumbling. “What was that, Lee?”
“Gas,” Lee forced out the word loud enough for him to
hear, the effort making his face crumble in pain. “Kill the crew.”
“Gas! On
board?” Chip exclaimed in shocked horror.
Lee inclined his head a fraction again the
pillow. “Blake planned...kill
everyone...salvage...Chip! Hurts!” Certain that his message had got through, Lee
stopped fighting the pain as exhaustion overwhelmed him.
“Doc!” Chip called Jamieson over anxiously.
“All right, take it easy, Lee,” Jamieson was ready
with more drugs. “Relax now...” Lee moaned softy, closing his eyes as he felt
the prick in his arm. “You’d better
go. He’s in no shape to talk. It was only that he wanted to talk to you
keeping him awake.”
Morton nodded and hurried out, leaving Jamieson to
care for the wounded Captain.
****
“Gas?” Nelson’s face reflected the same alarm as
Morton repeated what Lee had told him. “All right, Chip. I want this sub searched from stem to stern,
deck by deck. Air vents, torpedo tubes,
anywhere and everywhere.”
“Any idea what we’re looking for, Sir?”
Nelson pursed his lips. “Blake brought four scuba
tanks on board with him. I didn’t look
closely at the time, but with only minor modifications they could hold
gas. A simple release mechanism would be
all he needed. I doubt if they’ll be
triggered now, but we can’t take the risk.
Issue rebreathers and oxygen, Chip.
And take us up, if this gas does get released I want to be able to vent
it.”
****
With their lives possibly on the line, the Seaview’s
crew was painstaking in their search of the submarine. Kowalski found the first canister; lodged
below the hatch into one of the air vents. He had to contort his muscular frame
into a painfully ramped position to reach and haul it out. With Patterson’s help he then delivered it to
Nelson in the laboratory.
Sharkey found the next one. He was with Stu Riley in the missile room and
located the menacingly striped canister in plain sight among the other scuba
tanks in the rack. The next cylinder was
hidden in the air vent outside officer’s country. The last cylinder was finally located by
Sparks in the control room passageway, concealed behind a panel.
While the search was being carried out, the Seaview
had made her best speed to Santa Barbara.
Morton was on deck to guide her into harbour, his expression grim as he
concentrated on the task. Crane, his condition still critical was to be
airlifted to hospital as soon as they were close enough to do so. Jamieson had refused to allow the Captain to be
flown out earlier, seriously worried about what effect being disturbed for a
long trip would have on his patient.
“Mr Morton?” Nelson’s quiet voice surprised the
XO. “You’re relieved.”
“Relieved, Sir?” Morton gave his boss a blank
look. “I know we found the canisters,
but I was going to arrange another search to be on the safe side. Chief Sharkey wants to strip her down to the
bolts. And I’m none too happy about the
way Blake was able to conceal those canisters without anyone noticing.”
“Chip,” Nelson interrupted the Exec gently. “You are
not going to have your mind on business here.
Go with Lee, he needs a little company right now. I think I can manage to sort my own sub
out..”
****
Transferred from the Seaview to hospital, Crane
hovered on the edge of oblivion for two more days before he started to emerge
from coma. Another three days and he was
finally permitted to have visitors. He
roused weakly from the latest of a series of naps to find two anxious faces
hovering over him.
“Hello, Lee,” Nelson said warmly. His eyes were full of the affection and
relief he felt at seeing Lee awake at last.
“Hello, Admiral, Chip...” Lee smiled vaguely at them
both, still groggy from the drugs he was being fed. “I feel lousy” he complained, waving a feeble
hand at the IV that was still in his arm.
“I’m not surprised,” Chip said with considerably more
cheer than he had shown in the last few days.
He had exercised his frustration at not being able to help Crane by
running the crew ragged.
Nelson smiled in amusement at the sharp contrast
between efficient officer and the concerned friend. Lee watched Chip with a
tired little smile.
“You’ve been bullying the crew,” he guessed astutely.
Chip looked embarrassed. “It’ll do them good,” he
grumbled.
“Mmmh,” Lee blinked sleepily. “I want to talk to you about how lousy your
bodyguards are,” his eyes widened at his ability to speak without being
interrupted by gasping for breath.
Gingerly touching his still sore chest, he smiled in smug contentment to
himself and missed the way Chip and Nelson glanced at each other in amusement.
“I think we’d better let you get some sleep, young
man,” Nelson said kindly, comforting Lee with a gentle pat on his arm.
Chip nodded his agreement to that. “He’s right, Lee,”
he said when Lee gave them a hurt look. “We need you back.”
Lee caught his eyes and smiled shyly in response to
his friend’s affection. “Okay, don’t exhaust the crew too much.”
“I won’t,” Chip grinned in relief.
Turning over carefully, Lee slid down under the
blankets and curled up drowsily. Seeing
that Morton was making no attempt to leave, Nelson took his arm and steered him
out into the corridor, knowing that, like himself, Chip would be perfectly
content to simply stay and watch Crane sleep.
****
“Chip, if you don’t stop fussing, I’m going to hit
you,” Crane growled in exasperation, waving off the hand Morton offered to help
him out of the car. Three weeks R&R
hadn’t done much for the Captain’s temper.
He was frustrated and bored with the enforced inactivity. Chip had arranged this little trip to NIMR
for him, attempting to placate him over the fact that Seaview was about to
launch on her next voyage without him.
“Sorry,” Chip retorted with a flicker of irritation.
Lee glanced at him with a frown that cleared abruptly.
“No, Chip, I’m the one who’s sorry. It’s
not your fault.”
“Apology accepted,” Chip relaxed with a grin.
“Great, what are we doing here?”
“Well, since we’ve managed to retrieve FS.1 while you
were lazing about, the Admiral thinks you should be responsible for getting her
repaired.”
“Oh, no,” Lee groaned at that, anticipating the
expression of NIMR’s Chief Engineer when he found out what a state the Flying Sub
was in this time. “It took me hours to
calm him down last time.”
Morton chuckled softly. Nelson had already smoothed things over, not
wanting Crane to be over stressed yet.
But there was still plenty for the Captain to do at the base.
“Never mind,” Chip patted his friend consolingly on
the shoulder. “I’ve arranged an assistant for you.”
“Not Riley, is it?” Lee asked in dismay. “I know he means well, but he’s a walking
disaster area at times.”
“Well, your assistant is blonde, I’ll admit. But has considerably more curves than Riley.”
Crane looked at his friend is confusion, letting the
Exec turn him around to see who was hurrying to meet them.
“Tanya!” Lee’s sunny smile of delight made enduring
his complaints in the car worthwhile, Chip decided happily as he watched his
Captain hurry to meet the young woman and hug her fiercely. With Tanya looking
after Lee, Chip would have no need to worry about Lee taking things easy while
he was away. Grinning cheerfully at
seeing his friend so happy, Chip strolled over to join them. Now, if he could persuade Fiona to join them
for dinner later on, he was sure that his day would be made absolutely perfect
for once...
End