"Lee, sit down! I don’t understand this. Why was Chip on an ONI training mission?"

Crane sat down across from his friend and mentor, and took several moments to compose himself. When he had regained some control, he replied, "I’m sorry, Sir. It’s really all my fault, and it’s a long story."

"Take your time, Lee. Now, why don’t you start at the beginning?"

"Yes, Sir. Well, it started last Tuesday. Chip got orders to report to Idaho for an FAH training exercise."

"Idaho? Why Idaho?"

"Well, FAH stands for Fox and Hounds. The idea is for one man to be the ‘fox’, his job is to deliver ‘secret documents’ to a given point. The rest of the team act as ‘hounds’, trying to track down and stop the fox from reaching his goal. They hold these exercises a couple of times a year, sometimes in cities, sometimes in rural areas. This was the first time they had ever held an exercise in an area so remote. I should have seen through this, Admiral." Lee said, shaking his head.

"Can the self pity, Captain." the Admiral said gruffly. "Why Chip instead of you? He hasn’t got any ONI background."

Crane, stung by Nelson’s seeming callousness, pulled himself together, and said, "That’s what HE said, Sir. We both thought it was just a typical snafu, but Chip just couldn’t get anyone to listen. He called everywhere, but no luck, he couldn’t get the orders changed."

"Well, why didn’t he call ME?" snapped Nelson.

Lee couldn’t look his boss in the eye. He said quietly, "Because I told him not to."

"What? Why on earth not?"

"Sir, I . . . . Well, I . . . ."

"Come on, Lee, spit it out, man!"

"Sir, I thought the whole situation was hilarious! Chip was absolutely frantic. You know how easygoing and laid-back he is. Well, I’ve never seen him so . . . . so . . . .frazzled! He was acting like it was the end of the world. I thought it was funny." The Captain ended lamely.

"So you told him not to call me. What happened next?"

"Well, I put in a call to Greg Arnieri. He’s a buddy of mine, and a damned fine agent. I told him I was sending him my XO, and I wanted him to take good care of him." Lee paused in thought, "You know, Sir, I thought it would be a great opportunity for Chip. You know, to have a little vacation, a change of pace. Greg is the best tracker in the world. He usually finds the fox within a day or so. I thought Chip would be a natural, and with Greg to look out for him, I just didn’t see any problems."

"And you convinced Chip?"

"Well, yes and no. I told him I had every confidence in his ability to do it. Of course, that didn’t leave him any way to back down. So he went. But I don’t think he had much confidence himself."

Admiral Nelson rubbed his eyes. His head had begun to ache. Sighing, he said "All right, Lee. Chip went to Idaho to meet your friend Greg, who was going to look out for him. What went wrong?"

"The exercise was scheduled to begin on Wednesday. Tuesday night I got a call from Chip. He had been chosen to be the fox, and he didn’t know what to do. I was pretty facetious with him. I told him not to worry about it, because Greg would catch him within a couple of hours anyway. That got him angry. It seems he and Greg didn’t hit it off at all. I told him what I could . . . . I said that he had to do the unexpected, don’t use any public transportation, be especially careful at the destination point, things like that. He said the only plus he could see was that he was supposed to deliver his ‘documents’ directly to you."

"Was anybody going to tell me that?"

Lee shook his head, "I don’t know, Sir. I know that Chip had gotten them to agree to change the reporting time to twelve hundred hours this coming Friday, so that he could make our departure time."

"All right. Go on."

"Well, they parachuted Chip into a forest a couple hours before they sent in the rest of the team."

‘PARACHUTED? Chip parachuted?" Nelson felt his face drain of color. He had on rare occasions been required to use a parachute, and he had hated it every time. "He’s not qualified for that!"

Lee looked slightly puzzled. "Sure he is, Sir. Chip still goes skydiving every once and a while. We went out together just a couple of months ago."

The Admiral shook his head in bewilderment, but gestured for the Captain to continue. "Well, Sir," Lee said, "Greg landed with the rest of the team, and then they all split up. Greg was confident that he’d catch Chip well before sunset, but apparently, he had some trouble locating Chip’s trail. By the time Greg found Chip’s tracks it was midafternoon. Greg said Chip was using every trick in the book, staying on rocks, going through water. Greg was actually impressed, and that says something!" Lee’s voice held quiet pride for his Exec’s achievement. "He finally caught sight of Chip just before dusk. Greg said Chip was a couple of miles away across a wide valley."

Lee stopped talking and shook his head. Nelson waited for him to continue, but the Captain just sat there, frowning. The Admiral took the opportunity to lean back in his chair and rub both eyes with the heels of his hands. "All right, Lee. Your friend caught Chip, then what?"

Startled, Lee looked up. "That’s just it, Admiral, Greg DIDN’T catch him. When he first spotted Chip, he was about to disappear over a ridge about two miles away from Greg’s position. Before he did though, Greg saw someone else about midway between him and Chip. He saw this guy take a shot at Chip with a rifle."

"WHAT? Was Chip hit?"

"Yes, but Greg said it turned out to be a tranquilizer of some kind. He saw the orange dart in Chip’s back before he fell. I asked Greg what kind of trank gun could hit anything at that distance, and he said he didn’t see the rifle up close, but it looked high tech." Crane sat head in hands. "Whoever this guy was, he was a pro. Greg only had a sidearm with him, but he tried a couple of shots anyway. No luck, though, the guy was just too far away. All he managed to do was warn the guy that he had company. Greg did his best to get to Chip in time, but when he reached the spot where he saw Chip go down, there was no sign of him."

"So Chip’s been kidnapped."

"Uh, well, we’re not sure, Sir. Greg’s shots attracted the rest of the team. Within a half hour, he had six people searching. They couldn’t find anything . . . .anything at all. This was after dark, but they should have found some sign. Of where Chip fell, if nothing else. But there was nothing. Greg’s team was using whistles to keep in touch, so he was able to collect all fifteen people. By midnight, they had given up for the night, and a couple of people were sent out to get to a phone to get help."

"In the middle of the night?"

"Yes, Sir. They all had night vision gear with them. Anyway, by morning, they had the local search and rescue people on site. But the dogs couldn’t even pick up Chip’s backtrail which seems very strange."

"Why bring local people into it? Surely this is a military matter. Why not call the local army or air base?"

"At first, they wanted to keep it low profile. They were saying Chip was just a lost hiker. But then they found out the rest." Lee said bleakly.

Nelson felt his stomach knot. Warily he asked, "The rest?"

Crane took a deep breath, and looked Admiral Nelson in the eye. "Sir, this whole sorry mess was a set up. ONI has since discovered that the plans to the L23 were stolen."

"WHAT!?!? Lee, the L23 is a vital link in our undersea defense system! How did this happen?" The admiral’s face had turned red with anger, then suddenly paled when he realized the implications. "Oh, no. Chip!"

"Yes, Sir. If the other side gets a hold of those plans AND someone as intimately familiar with the system as Chip . . . ." Lee hung his head.

"So you think that the man who kidnapped Chip also has access to the L23 plans?"

"Well, this is where it gets complicated, Sir. According to ONI, the mole who stole the plans is also the one responsible for Chip being forced into this training exercise. That’s why Chip couldn’t get anywhere trying to get out of it. The mole was intercepting and blocking everything Chip tried to do. The mole also arranged for Chip to be the ‘fox’, and then he replaced the phony ‘secret documents’ with the stolen plans." Lee paused for a moment, then continued, "Chip didn’t have a chance. He was wrapped up in a neat little package, and delivered right into the hands of the enemy."

Rubbing a hand over his face, Nelson asked, "From what you’re saying, it’s obvious that this mole was caught. Who is it? Has he talked yet? Does he know where Chip was to be taken?"

"Greg said the guy’s name was Stillman. Captain Fred Stillman. I’d never heard of him before. He shot himself in the head when he realized the game was up. But, Sir, Greg’s pretty sure that he has the kidnapper surrounded up there. The area where this happened is practically virgin territory. No roads, almost no dwellings. Greg’s team found an off-road vehicle early the next day, and they’ve kept it staked out. The only other way out is walking, and you can imagine how co-operative Chip would be. There’s even an outside chance that the guy doesn’t have Chip. One of the search and rescue teams reported seeing a man fitting the guy’s description running away from the search area, and he was alone."

Confused the Admiral said, "Wait a minute. If Chip hasn’t been captured, then where is he?"

"I don’t know, Sir. I’d like to believe that he’s still alive up there, but I keep thinking how he would have reacted if he found himself prisoner. He would have fought, Admiral. The kidnapper may have killed him." Lee’s face was stark, devoid of any emotion. "Sir, I want to go up there. I want to catch this guy."

"Lee, I understand how you feel, but I’m afraid I can’t allow it." Nelson raised a hand to forestall the Captain’s outburst. "Hear me out, Lee. If Chip is dead, then there is nothing you can do for him. But if he’s been captured, the entire L23 program is compromised. The Seaview is the only ship that can get to the control nodes and change the computer codes quickly enough. We have to set personal feelings aside for the moment. How quickly can you have Seaview ready to sail?"

"Sir, she’s ready now, but half the crew is out on leave."

"Well, get as many back as you can. But I want to leave port within three hours. Get moving, Lee. I need to talk to Washington, then I’ll meet you on the ship."

The Captain stood, "Sir, I . . . ."

"Lee, this was not your fault. Nobody could have foreseen something like this. Chip . . . .Well, we’ll deal with that when we get back. For now, we have a job to do."

"Yes, Sir. I’ll see you on board, Admiral." Lee turned and left the office.

Nelson called his secretary to have her put his call through and then sat back with a sigh. Damn it all! This was going to be very bad. Morton was a key player in the operation of both the Institute and the Seaview. Although it had taken Nelson years to appreciate the man, he knew that, like Lee Crane, Chip Morton was almost irreplaceable. Nelson still couldn’t say for sure that he actually liked the man. Morton was too inscrutable for the Admiral’s taste. And he had the soul of an accountant. But, on the other hand, he was loyal to a fault. In all the crazy adventures and predicaments that the Seaview had gotten into, Morton had never once let them down. He was there when they needed him. He worked harder than almost anyone on the ship, and Nelson had learned to appreciate that the smooth operation of the ship’s company was in large part Chip’s doing. Damn. His reflections were interrupted when his secretary buzzed his Pentagon call through.

In the meantime, Lee Crane was working to get his crew back together. He stifled his resentment at having to leave port so quickly. What the Admiral had said made sense, but still it felt like a betrayal. He and Chip had been close friends since their days together at the Naval Academy. Lee couldn’t help feeling that if he could only get up to that forest, he could . . . . do something. It also bothered him that Nelson thought that his responsibility to his friend would end with his death. Lee vowed to himself that when they finished this job, if Chip’s body had not been found, he would go up there and find it, and bring it out for a decent burial. It was the least he could do for the man who had saved his life on more than one occasion.

By the time the Admiral’s deadline had expired, a little more than two thirds of the Seaview’s crew had reported. Because all critical areas were manned, and because the trip to and from the nodes would take less than forty-eight hours, Captain Crane ordered the ship to get underway. The short cruise was incredibly exhausting. Because of the devastating circumstances, tension was abnormally high. Aside from the short crew and presumed dead or captured XO, there was the real possibility of an enemy action to prevent their changing the codes. The mission required radio silence, and not being able to keep up with developments kept Captain Crane on edge, which in turn affected the entire crew. Admiral Nelson saw this as a foretaste of how things would be for some time to come.

Despite the pressure, the trip was actually uneventful, and the submarine returned to port Wednesday afternoon. Lee Crane went immediately to his office to find Commander Greg Arnieri waiting for him. Seeing the ONI agent’s grim face, the Captain stopped dead in his tracks.

"Lee, I’m sorry. You asked me to take care of him and I didn’t." Arnieri started.

Lee took a deep breath. "Wait a minute, Greg. Anything you’re going to tell me my boss should hear also. C’mon, his office is just across the way." Lee knew he was putting off the inevitable, but he felt he still needed time to prepare, even though he’d been trying to prepare himself for the last two days. With a perfunctory knock the two men entered the Admiral’s office, finding the man in the act of dialing the phone. When he saw Lee, he put down the receiver and said, "Lee?"

"Sir, this is Commander Greg Arnieri of the Office of Naval Intelligence. Greg, this is Admiral Harriman Nelson."

Nelson stood to shake Arnieri’s hand and then gestured to the two men to seat themselves. Greg spoke, "Admiral, it’s a great pleasure to meet you, Sir. I just wish it were under different circumstances."

"So do we all, Commander. Well, have you found Commander Morton?"

"No Sir, I’m afraid we haven’t. We brought in the National Guard and every tracker we could find, but he’s just disappeared."

"Commander, what are the chances that he just slipped through the net? He could be out there unaware of all that’s happened, couldn’t he?"

Arnieri bowed his head, appearing to choose his next words with care. "Sir, with all due respect, that’s just not possible." Arnieri glanced sideways at Captain Crane. "The man should have never been sent out there. Frankly, Sir, he didn’t strike me as having all that much on the ball. I tried to get a rise out of him at the briefing dinner the night before the exercise, and I swear he didn’t even know he was being insulted."

The Admiral permitted himself a small smile, "You’ve misjudged him."

Shaking his head, Arnieri said, "Maybe so, Sir. But even if I did, I still don’t see anyway he could have slipped past the search teams. The National Guard has had helicopters equipped with infrared in the air for the past two days. Even if he hid, they would spot him by his body heat. All the Guard has found are a bunch of frightened deer and a couple of bears."

"Bears!"

"Yes, Sir, black bears. They usually aren’t a problem. They run rather than fight. But even if Morton ran into a killer bear, there would still be a trace, blood or something . . . .There’s another thing, Sir. Several search teams have run across evidence of small groups of men that can’t be accounted for."

"What do you mean?"

"We’re finding campsites, tracks, things of that nature, all over the area."

"And what does all this mean, Commander? What do you think happened?"

"Sir, I’m sorry. I am fairly certain that Commander Morton is dead. I suspect that the tranquilizer that he was shot with either killed him, or disoriented him to a point that he fell into the river, or off a cliff. It would explain why the infrared can’t spot him. I think the groups of men that we can’t account for are searchers from the other side."

"Yes, Sir. We’ve been over the immediate area with a fine toothed comb, and now we’ve expanded the search to include a fifty mile area down river from the point that Morton was last seen."

"You think he went into a river? What do you base that on, Commander?"

"Process of elimination, Sir. I admit it’s a shaky premise, but it’s the only thing that fits the facts."

Lee spoke quietly, "Chip can swim, Greg."

"In 50 degree water? With his body full of who-knows-what kind of drugs? Lee, I would like nothing better than to be wrong, to have Morton walk through that door right now, but you and I both know that’s not going to happen."

Admiral Nelson felt a deep depression fall over him. "Commander Arnieri . . . .assuming everything you say is true . . . .what are the chances of you ever finding Commander Morton’s body?"

Arnieri sat looking Nelson in the eye. "Not good, Sir. This area may as well be the back of the moon as far as human penetration goes. People that go missing there just aren’t found. We may never know exactly what happened." Arnieri turned to Captain Crane, "Lee, I’m sorry. I let you down and a man died for it."

Lee glanced over at his friend, but didn’t say a word. If Greg was looking for absolution he wasn’t going to find it here. "Admiral, I need to take a leave of absence."

"Lee . . . "

"Greg, I’d like to speak to the Admiral alone for a moment. Would you please wait for me in my office? Thank you."

Nelson and Crane both watched the ONI agent leave the office. When Lee turned back to the Admiral, Nelson said, "Lee . . . .Lee, you aren’t blaming Arnieri for this, are you?"

"Sir, I asked the man to take care of Chip, and instead he antagonized him. Do you really think Chip missed any insults or snide remarks?"

"Lee, this was very carefully planned. Neither you nor Arnieri could have foreseen or prevented it. You might want to remember, it was Arnieri who kept that kidnapper from having enough time to find Chip in the first place."

Lee sat quietly thinking for a moment, then said "All right, Admiral. But I still need the time off."

"Why Lee? What can you possibly accomplish that the National Guard, the Office of Naval Intelligence, and local search and rescue can’t? We’re leaving on a month long cruise in two days. Delaying will cost thousands of dollars." The Admiral knew as soon as the words were out of his mouth, that they were the wrong ones to say.

"Well, Sir, perhaps you can offset the financial loss with the savings on Chip’s salary." Crane said sarcastically.

"Lee, I’m going to ignore that remark because I know you are under duress." Nelson’s voice had gone cold.

Crane sat defiant for a moment and then seemed to collapse in on himself. In a near whisper he said, "Admiral, please, I have to do something. I can’t stay here without trying. Intellectually, I know I’m not to blame, but in my heart, I feel like I betrayed him. Please sir, let me just try. O’Brien can handle the ship for a few days, and I could meet you at Pearl."

It was something Nelson had never thought to hear from this man. Crane guarded the Seaview like it was his own personal property. To allow someone else to command her for even a few days spoke loudly of the man’s inner turmoil. The Admiral was at a loss. Letting Crane go off on this wild goose chase could bring him peace, or break him. Not letting him go . . . .

"All right, Lee, you have four days. I want you waiting on the dock at Pearl at 1800 hours Sunday night."

"Thank you, Sir. Uh, you mean 2100 hours, don’t you, Sir?"

"No, there doesn’t seem to be a reason to wait until noon to leave on Friday. I’ve have O’Brien take Seaview out by 0900. We’ll arrive at the Farallon Research Base by noon then head out to Pearl. Don’t be late. And Lee," the Admiral paused, "Good luck."

Lee forced a smile. "Thank you, Sir." He left the Admiral alone with his thoughts.

Admiral Nelson called his secretary and asked her to arrange a staff meeting, then sat back with his thoughts. Like Lee Crane, Nelson had known Chip Morton since the younger man had attended the Naval Academy. At the time, Morton had been one of those run-of-the-mill kids who seemed to blend into the general student body. He took one of Nelson’s biology classes in his second year. Nelson had ignored him until well into the second quarter, when the young midshipman had turned in a paper that had insights that were far beyond his years and apparent intelligence. Nelson had called the middie in, intending to determine the source of the obviously plagiarized work. Morton had sat with a typically blank face, and answered every question put to him, proving to Nelson that there was something going on behind that bland face. Surprised, he checked with other instructors to find that for the most part, Morton was invisible. The teachers gave him good grades, but couldn’t remember the face. Some instructors, however, had a distinctly different view and related stories similar to Nelson’s own. Flashes of brilliance obscured by an introverted personality. It was only when Nelson queried Morton’s classmates that he caught a glimpse of the real Chip Morton. Without exception, Chip’s classmates rated him as someone they wanted on their team.

When the Admiral reflected back over the years that Morton had served with him, he came to realize that he did indeed trust the man, and if he allowed himself to admit it, even liked him. If he had just been more open about things. I just never felt like I knew what he was thinking. Nelson slowly shook his head. It was all too late now. Morton was gone, and all the wishes in the world wouldn’t bring him back.

Over the next two days, the Admiral was kept busy trying to do his job as well as those of the Captain and Exec. Lt. Bob O’Brien was a very promising young officer, who did his best to shoulder the extra burdens, but there were things that only the Admiral could handle. The crew’s morale was at an all time low, and the cruise ahead looked to be long and hard. Crane called a few times, each time with the same report, each time a bit more discouraged. Morton might just as well have been swallowed by a black hole.

Friday morning, Admiral Nelson stood on the bridge of the Seaview as she worked her way up the coast. Normally, Nelson found the bridge exhilarating, but today the overcast sky just seemed to intensify the depression around him. He wished that he hadn’t given Lee permission to go to Idaho. O’Brien was a good officer, but Lee was his friend, and Nelson definitely needed a friend right now. Nelson sighed, and climbed down the deck access on his way to the control room. After a short stop at a research station on the flyspeck Farellon Islands, they would be heading to Pearl Harbor, then the South Pacific. As he entered the control room, he sensed the subdued atmosphere. He knew he would have to do something about it, but for now, at least, he didn’t have the energy.

He approached Lt. O’Brien and said, "Bob, I’m going to my cabin for awhile. Let me know if there are any problems with the pick up at the Farellon base."

"Aye, Sir."

When Nelson reached his cabin, he had to fight the temptation to climb into his bunk and sleep away his troubles. He sat at his desk and stared at a pile of incomplete reports, reports that should have been Chip Morton’s responsibility. Sighing, he plucked the first from the pile and started working. A few hours later, Nelson felt the changes in momentum that meant the Seaview had reached her first port of call. He looked up at the clock on his desk. It said 11:55. Nelson realized that Morton was supposed to report at 1200. With a totally eerie feeling he pressed the button on his intercom and asked the radio operator to connect him with his office at NIMR.

Almost without realizing it, he sent a silent prayer to heaven. Instead of his secretary, Lee Crane came on the line. "Lee! what are you doing at NIMR?"

"Sir, I don’t know, I just got this crazy feeling that Chip might show up. I don’t know why. The terrain in Idaho was hellish. There’s just no way he got out of there alone."

"Well, did he?"

"Did he . . . ? Oh, you mean show up? No, Sir. No, he didn’t." Lee’s voice was heavy with sadness. "Uh, Sir, I’ll meet you at Pearl on Sunday."

"Just a moment, Lee." There had been a knock at his cabin door. The Admiral covered the receiver and called out, "Come."

The door opened to reveal Lt. O’Brien come to make his report. Nelson waved him in, and turned his attention back to the telephone. He swung his chair away from O’Brien to signal that this was a private conversation, and said, "Lee? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Listen, Lee, I’ve been thinking. I want you to take as much time as you need. O’Brien can handle this trip . . . ." Nelson paused at the sound of a quickly suppressed snicker behind him. He became very still, as the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He slowly spun his chair around to find Bob O’Brien standing with a huge grin on his face. Next to him, looking slightly perplexed, stood Chip Morton.

Admiral Nelson could not help himself, he simply burst out laughing. Bob O’Brien started chuckling. Morton stood with a tentative smile, obviously wondering what the joke was. Nelson, still laughing, gestured for Chip to pick up the phone that Nelson had dropped in that first moment of surprise. Looking bewildered Morton picked up the phone and said, "Hello? Lee?"

After a moment, Chip pulled the phone away from his ear, and stood looking at it. "He’s laughing. What the heck is so funny?"

Wiping away tears of relief, Nelson waved Chip to a chair, took the telephone, and said, "Lee, we’re coming to pick you up! Yes, now! Be on the dock in three hours."

Hanging up the phone, Nelson turned his attention to Lt. O’Brien and said, "You heard me Bob, take us back home to pick up the Captain."

"Aye-aye, Sir!" O’Brien bounced out of the cabin.

"Sir? Why is Lee still in Santa Barbara?" asked Morton in confusion.

Nelson leaned his chair back and with a challenging grin, said, "Chip, why aren’t you dead?"

Morton’s face lost all expression as he sat back and casually crossed his legs. Warily he said, "I didn’t receive any orders to be dead, Sir."

Nelson snorted. "Well, never mind that for now. I understand you have some papers for me?"

"Uh, yes Sir." said Morton, pulling a plastic encased packet from under his shirt.

Admiral Nelson took the packet, and without opening it, went to his wall safe and put it in. Chip was frowning slightly when the Admiral returned to his desk. Admiral Nelson held up a hand to forestall Chip’s questions and said, "Chip, I know you have some questions, and believe me, so do I, but I would like to wait until Captain Crane is here before we hold this conversation. For now, why don’t you get settled in, have something to eat."

"Yes, Sir." Chip got up to go, and spied the pile of unfinished reports on the Admiral’s desk. "Uh, Sir, can I take those for you?"

"Yes, by all means. Oh, and Chip? Welcome home."

"Thank you, Sir."

Morton left the cabin, and Nelson sat back shaking his head. Amazing.

Some three hours later, Nelson met his Captain as he came down the control room access ladder. "Lee, glad you could join us."

"Where is he? Did he say how he did it? Greg was floored when I told him!" said Lee, grinning hugely.

"No, I told him we would debrief him after you arrived. He’s in his office working on some reports." Nelson sensed the control room crew listening hard. Doubtless, they all would love to be ‘flies on the wall’ for the upcoming meeting. For now, though, the feeling in the control room was one of euphoria. "Well, Captain, why don’t we get under way, then we’ll go and talk to our super agent."

"Aye, Sir."

Shortly thereafter, the still grinning Crane met Admiral Nelson and Chip Morton in the Admiral’s cabin. "Chip! I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you!"

Morton narrowed his eyes and said icily, "Why, Lee? Didn’t you think I could do this?"

"Uh, well, Chip, there were some extenuating circumstances."

"Never mind that now. Chip, why don’t you tell us how you managed to keep from getting caught?" Admiral Nelson said.

"Yes, Sir. Well, when I arrived up there, they told me I had been selected to be the ‘fox’. I thought it was a pretty stupid idea at first. I mean, I’ve never done anything like this before. I figured it was going to be a real short exercise, going against all those pros." Chip said calmly. "But then, there was this briefing dinner, and Lee’s ‘buddy’ Arnieri started in on me. He started talking about ‘incompetents’ never making it past Lieutenant Commander, and then he started calling me names."

"Like what?" Lee asked curiously.

"He called me ‘mild-mannered’ and ‘easygoing’." Chip frowned at the remembered rage.

Lee and Nelson exchanged a glance. "But, Chip," said Lee. "You ARE easygoing."

"Yeah, maybe. But he made it an insult. He also said I was ‘placid’. Placid! The rest of those jerks were just eating it up."

"So, what did you do?" asked Admiral Nelson.

"Nothing, Sir. I just minded my manners and kept my mouth shut."

"You should have decked him, Chip" frowned Lee.

"That’s exactly what he wanted me to try. I wasn’t about to accommodate him. There are other ways to beat guys like that, Lee. I figured I’d wait until he caught up with me the next day, THEN I’d clean his clock for him."

"So you didn’t think you’d last more than a day?" asked Nelson.

"Well, the odds were against it, Sir." Chip said. "Literally. These creeps formed a betting pool on how long I’d last, right in front of me."

"Oh, we always do that, Chip. They didn’t mean anything by it." said Lee.

"On the contrary, Lee. Those guys are a bunch of mean-spirited losers. They figured I was nothing, and they treated me like I was nothing."

Lee frowned. He knew all of the people involved in the exercise. Chip was a good judge of character, but he was surely off base with his assessment. "I’m sorry, Chip. Those people are all worthwhile folks. It just must have been a bad day. I hope you’ll give Greg another chance."

"If you say so, Lee." said Chip skeptically.

"All right, Chip. You didn’t think you’d last long. So what happened?" said the Admiral, impatiently.

"Well, the next morning, I parachuted into the exercise area. Things went wrong from the start. I landed in a nest of these animals, and they pissed on me. And the smell was terrible, and it just kind of clung to me. I swear I can still smell it."

"What kind of animals? Skunks?"

"No, not skunks. It was a mother with some babies. They were black and white, but they didn’t have stripes, they were, like, polka dotted."

Grinning, Lee said, "Those were skunks, all right. They’re called ‘spotted skunks’ and you weren’t pissed on, you were sprayed!"

"Oh. Well, anyway, I buried the ‘chute and the jeans I’d been wearing, and took off. I knew I was supposed to get a two hour lead, but frankly, Lee, I didn’t trust those guys to play fair. And they didn’t. I first heard them behind me within an hour. I was able to lose them, but later on, they found my trail again. I figured it was Arnieri. I thought I’d let him catch me right after sunset, then we’d see if I was ‘placid’. But the creep cheated. Lee, your ‘friend’ shot me with a tranquilizer dart!" Chip’s face was hard. He had absolutely no tolerance for cheating.

Lee started to say something, but the Admiral waved him off, "Go ahead, Chip, what happened next?"

"Well, I was wearing a Protsky wetsuit, so the dart didn’t go all the way in. But I knew I’d taken a big enough dose to knock me out, so I started looking for a place to hide."

"Wait. You were wearing a Protsky?"

"Yes, Sir. I figured that it would keep me warm. I didn’t want to carry a bulky coat, because the forecast was for the seventies during the days. But, on the other hand, night temperatures were supposed to be in the forties. The Protsky can handle both extremes, and it’s pretty comfortable. Besides, these characters were all carrying night vision gear, and I remembered the Protsky erases your heat signature."

Crane and Nelson just looked at each other, thunderstruck. Morton continued, "So, anyway, I was by this big tree. I climbed up to the where it branched out, and there was this hollow. More stinky animals. Raccoons, I think. But they took off before I got there. I was starting to feel the drug, so I just kind of curled up in a ball, and fell asleep. Boy, I’ll tell you, THAT was a mistake!" Chip shook his head. "I didn’t wake up for almost thirty-six hours, and when I did, it took me at least four more hours to be able to move. I think every muscle in my body spasmed at one point or another. If Arnieri had showed up, I swear, Lee, I would have killed him."

"Did you hear any gunshots before you passed out, Chip?"

"Arnieri signaling his troops? Yeah, I heard him."

Nelson said, "When you woke up, did you hear anyone else around?"

"Yes, Sir. There was something going on a couple of valleys over. A couple of choppers and some dogs barking. I guess I got a little paranoid for a while there. I convinced myself that it was Arnieri and his bunch. Anyway, I knew there was a town back the other way, so I took off. It took me a day and a half to get to any sort of civilization."

"Wait. Chip, people get lost up there and wander for days, and you just walked straight to a town?"

"Most people don’t navigate a ship for a living, Lee. I had a map and compass. As it was, I didn’t actually make it to the town itself. I landed up at a hippie commune. Smack in the middle of nowhere."

"Hippies?"

"Well, maybe not hippies, but back to nature types. I had a real piece of good luck there. One of the guys had this old, beat up Vee Dub that he wanted to sell. It ran okay, and it was cheap, so I bought it."

"You. You bought a Volkswagen."

"Yeah, well, remember you told me no public transportation? I was worried about that. I was thinking I could try hitchhiking, but I’d probably land up with an ax murderer. This seemed like the perfect solution. It was unexpected, and I didn’t need to go into the town where people might remember me, and these hippies all just kind of assumed I was running from ‘the establishment’ so they weren’t going to tell anyone. It worked out great."

"Okay, Chip, you’ve got transportation. Where did you go?" asked Nelson.

"SLO, Sir."

"San Luis Obispo? Why there?"

"Well, I wanted to be close to home. And I have a friend there. Jeff Carberry. Remember him, Lee?"

"Uh, short, thinning hair, no common sense?"

Chip laughed, "Yeah, that’s him. He co-owns a helicopter charter business up there. I knew he’d give me a bed for a couple of days. I got there Monday afternoon. I thought he’d be at work, but he was at the house with some buddies. They were trying to put on a new roof."

Chip shook his head and said wryly, "His friends all have about as much sense as Jeff does. They’d been working on this roof on and off for at least a couple of months. They all decided to take a week’s vacation to try and get it done."

"They took vacations to work on a roof?"

"Sir, if you knew Jeff, you’d understand. No discipline, no common sense, but he’s still one of the nicest guys you could hope to meet. He needed help, and his friends just came. Unfortunately, his friends are all just as flaky as he is. There were roofing supplies all over the place, but no evidence of any work actually being done. Jeff was thrilled to see me. I think he was looking for any excuse to put off doing the work."

Lee grinned. "So you sat around all week partying surrounded by roofing supplies."

"Like blazes I did. I got those guys organized, and put them to work, and by Thursday morning that roof was done, and inspected, and certified. Those guys didn’t know what had hit them."

Lee laughed. "Okay, so far so good. How the heck did you land up at the research base?"

"Yes, Chip, I’d like to know that myself." added Nelson.

"Oh, well, that was another piece of luck. We were sitting around Thursday evening and one of the guys asked me if I’d sell him the Vee Dub. I said I’d like to, but I needed it to get to the boat. Jeff offered to fly me down. Well, of course, I jumped at it. Not only did I get rid of the car, at a profit by the way, but I also figured I could avoid anyone of Arnieri’s bunch lying in wait for me. Jeff’s company had just invested in a jetcopter, and Jeff was looking forward to giving it a workout." Chip continued. "We left in time to get me there an hour before sailing, but when we cleared the coast, there was the Seaview, as big as day, sailing north. Oh man, my heart just stopped. Jeff said his bird could outrun the ship up to the Farellons, and so that’s just what we did. It worked out great. I was able to walk into the Admiral’s cabin just exactly at noon."

Admiral Nelson and Lee Crane both sat back in their chairs, and smiled. Chip looked at his two bosses and said, "I wish somebody would tell me what’s so darn funny. I’m not the incompetent that Arnieri thinks I am, but I would have thought my own shipmates would have at least some faith in me."

Admiral Nelson got up and went to his safe. Taking out the plastic packet that Chip had given him earlier, Nelson asked, "Chip, did you go over these documents?"

"No, Sir, I didn’t see any need to."

"Well, take a look at them now." said Nelson as he handed the packet to Morton.

Morton opened the packet and with a frown started to read. His eyes widened as he realized what he was reading. "What the . . . .? Why on earth would they use information like this for a training exercise? Geez, what if something had happened?"

Lee said, nodding, "That was the general idea, Chip. This whole thing was a set up. A traitor stole those plans, and arranged the FAH exercise to get you and the plans isolated. Chip, Greg didn’t cheat. That was an enemy agent chasing you. Greg saw him fire the trank gun, but he was too far away to help. The shots you heard were Greg trying to take down the agent before he got to you. When Greg caught up to where he had seen you last, you and the agent had disappeared. Chip, we thought you were dead."

"Oh."

Nelson waited for more of a response, but none seemed to be forthcoming. Just as the admiral had once again given up on trying to figure this maddening man out, Chip said, "Lee, I’m sorry. If I had known, I would have contacted you right away."

Lee smiled, shaking his head, "Chip, I should have known better. The minute Greg said there was no way you could survive, I should have known that you would, just to prove him wrong. I am just so damned glad you’re here."

"Ya know, Lee, you really need to improve your circle of friends. . . . But I really am sorry if I caused you any grief."

Nelson sat watching the interplay of emotion between the two friends, overt on the part of the Captain, more subtle on the part of the Exec. Nelson nodded, feeling once again as if all was right with his world. "Well, I guess that answers all of my questions. Lee, do you have anything to add?"

Crane who had been staring at his friend sighed. "No, I suppose not. Chip, you did a good job, just like I told you you would."

"Thanks, Lee. Is there anything else? I’ve got a ton of paperwork to catch up."

The Admiral smiled, "No, that’s all. Oh, and do the manpower reports first please."

"Aye, Sir." said Chip, and with a nod to the Captain, left the cabin.

Lee watched him go, then stood up in his turn to leave. "Sir, I want to thank you for giving me the time to go up to Idaho, futile as it was."

"Anytime, Lee." Nelson said. Then as the Captain reached the door, the Admiral called out. "Lee? All I can say is, I’m glad he’s on our side!"

Lee Crane grinned and said as he left the room, "Amen, Sir! Amen!"