Hallow
Susan F
Nelson smiled as the old ship’s clock in the foyer
chimed 2000 hours. He immediately reached for his tie, loosened it, left it
dangling, and then proceeded to shrug off his mess dress jacket as he made his
way into his dimly lit study and the bottle of brandy awaiting him there. He
couldn't quite remember how his sister had talked him into dressing
up with all his medals and military finery just so he could hand out candy to
the N.I.M.R. and Seaview offspring one night a year. But she had, and it had
become such a valued tradition that he continued it whenever Seaview was in
port, whether Edith was there to pester him or not. He'd never admit it but he
enjoyed seeing the kids’ costumes, and was aware that, for some unfathomable
reason, getting “The Admiral’s” accolades on their costume was a bigger kick to
the kids than any prize given away at any Halloween party.
He enjoyed the tradition but 2000 never came too soon.
His doorman duties were done, and tonight his sister was at some trendy
Halloween party somewhere in New York City. That left him to his brandy and he
grinned with pleasure as he saw the small hot pot and plate of molasses cookies
his housekeeper had left for him on the low table before the fire.
Molasses cookies and - he sniffed to make sure - ah, yes, mulled cider. Perfect for a late
October evening. A little soft music on the stereo completed the setting
for a relaxing evening at home. Something he badly needed after the last
cruise. He only hoped that the crew was making the most of their time off. Lee,
particularly… Nelson wrenched his thoughts away from the periscope island and
the too expressive golden eyes that locked on his as a hand pressed against a
bloody wound… No, not tonight.
Besides, Lee had forgiven him, had assured him that in no way was it his fault.
Brandy was tossed off a little too swiftly, the last of the cider abandoned as
Nelson slipped into an uneasy sleep in the comfortable armchair. His last
thought was a mournful, Ah, but when will you forgive yourself, Harry, my
lad?
~~~~~~~~
Lee Crane clawed feebly at the mud that held him as
fast as the doorsill of the vehicle that lay across his legs. Looking at the
tree trunk that had smashed flat the driver’s seat, he considered whether he
was fortunate that the seat belt had broken and he had been tossed almost
clear. Die fast or die slow, he thought grimly, not much
choice there. What had begun as a relaxing drive through scenic, lightly
traveled byways had turned into a fight for survival. He very much doubted that
anyone would notice where the small MG had gone over the side and getting to
the horn, even did the horn still work festooned with tree branches, looked
like an impossibility from where he was laying. His cell was just out of reach
of his stretching fingers. Still, it wasn't in him to give up, and he ignored
his injuries to painfully shift handfuls of wet, heavy dirt from beneath his
trapped legs. He guessed he was thankful that he had landed in a muddy patch.
It was cold but made a softer landing than it might have been. He stopped
briefly to press lightly on the wound that had just barely begun healing since
Krueger… No, won't go there. He’s gone and I have no intention of meeting
him in the afterlife. Better get cracking, Lee. The light was
gone now and cold was moving in with the night. His movements slowed. Tired.
Cold. Chip? Admiral? Find me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
A log snapped on the fire and Nelson startled awake.
His heart was pounding and he shook his head to clear away the lingering traces
of a nightmare that was already fading. Something about Lee… He reached
to pour himself a glass of brandy. Small wonder he was dreaming about the
captain of the Seaview. He still hadn't come to terms with his actions,
wondered if he ever would. An unexpected surge of rage swept through him,
surprising him with its intensity. “Damn you, Krueger! I hope you rot for all
eternity!” He felt just a little better as the last word seemed to echo in the
quiet library, a world and time away from those frantic days and weeks on
Seaview when it wasn't known if Lee would live, or die by his own admiral’s
hand. His hard fought calm was shattered as a harsh, all too well remembered,
voice whispered above the soft crackle and pops of the fire. “You may yet
have your wish, Admiral Nelson.”
Nelson was
on his feet, body poised to defend, to attack, in any direction before he was
aware of his actions. “No. This cannot be. You are gone. Mulayo
is gone.” Fierce blue eyes swept the familiar corners of his sanctuary; he
relaxed just a bit as nothing seemed out of order. Until, from a darkened
corner by the antique pedestal globe, a dark somber figure appeared, dressed in
the dark turtleneck and dungarees of a U-boat sailor. Krueger raised his hands,
not - to Nelson’s surprise - in threat but in supplication.
“Hear me
out, Admiral. Your captain’s life is at stake.”
Nelson
spared not a thought for the strangeness of talking to a man long dead; that
took a back seat to the necessity for information. “What have you done with
Captain Crane?”
“Nothing,
Admiral. I have no power on this plane since you destroyed my Lani’s resting place.”
“Why are you
here?” Nelson tensed as Krueger came into the glow of the firelight. Nelson
fought the urge to turn on every light in the room; the dimness that had
earlier soothed tired nerves now seemed threatening. He wouldn't give Krueger
the satisfaction of seeing just how unsettling his presence was. I beat you
once; I can do so again. But what was that about Lee?
As if
Krueger had heard his thoughts the German said harshly, “I lost my power on
this plane but I did not go on with my Lani. I am too
tied yet to this plane, to the captain of your boat, to my past mistakes. His
life is at risk, Admiral, but not by my doing. And his death would doom both of
us to an eternity tied together. You will understand when I say that the
company of my Lani is preferable to even that of your
engaging young officer.”
“Stop
speaking in riddles.” Nelson had no time for the attempt at levity that sat so
poorly on the dour - and dead, he reminded himself - German officer. “What
the devil is going on?” Impatience worked well as a cover for worry.
“Events have
given me a chance, Admiral, a chance to redeem myself and to free myself and
your captain from this tie we share. And to give you a chance to redeem
yourself, perhaps even forgive yourself, for what I forced you to do.”
Nelson was
ready to blast his worst nightmare when the doorbell rang. The prosaic sound
was enough to make him jump, but Krueger just stood impassively. The bell was
followed up by pounding and a very familiar voice shouting, “Admiral Nelson.
Admiral, are you there, sir?”
Nelson
cast a glance back at the unmoving ghost as he went into the hallway, to the
door. Surprisingly steady hands made short work of the locks and bolts and he
swung the door open. He had no intention of inviting anyone into his house, of
letting anyone come in contact with the ghost of a man who had already wreaked
such havoc on his crew. Particularly this man. He should have known that Chip
Morton would not stand on ceremony when on a mission. A mission of some
importance, Nelson assessed, as the young officer brushed past him without so
much as a “by your leave, sir.” Instead, his executive officer started
questioning before Nelson had time to speak.
“Sir, did
Lee tell you what his plans for the weekend were?” Chip seemed to hold his
breath as Nelson cast a glance back at the study before saying too
deliberately, too slowly, “He told me he was planning to “get in the car and
drive,” Chip. I don't think even he knew where. Why?”
Chip seemed
to shrink in on himself. “He dropped his Spyder off
for servicing and his mechanic offered him the loan of an MG convertible.
Admiral, Tony didn't know that the convertible had a problem with the tie rod.
He’s afraid it might break on Lee.”
“Chip, Lee
can handle a mechanical problem.”
Chip
interrupted him, and didn't even notice he was doing so. “Sir, if Lee was “just
driving,” then he’s working something out. Both men knew what that “something” likely was.
“We're talking high speed on winding roads. If that tie rod lets go at the
wrong time and place… Admiral, I don't have a good feeling about this.”
Nelson
sighed and motioned toward the study door. A mere ghost wouldn't throw Morton
off his stride when his captain, his friend - hell, his brother - was in danger. And Nelson had a high
regard for Chip’s instincts when it came to his friend and trouble. If Chip
didn't have a good feeling about this, it behooved him to listen. As he ushered
his junior officer into the study, he waited for Chip to react to the presence
of his uninvited guest. Nelson stared as Chip walked right past Krueger and
didn't even blink. Instead he leaned against the mantle and stared into the
flames before saying in tense voice, “Admiral, I checked with the highway
patrol and there’s been no accidents reported involving an MG convertible. But
Lee’s cell is on and he’s not answering.”
Krueger moved to stand close to the blond officer and
turned to face Nelson.
“I can take you to him, Admiral. We are tied together.
He will need help.”
“Why the hell would I trust you?”
“Admiral?” Chip swung around as if shot. “Sir? I don't
under…”
Nelson waved him silent. “Not you, Chip. You don't see
him. Obviously, you don't see him. Why is that, I wonder?”
Morton knew the past cruise had been hard on the older
man. Being faced with a…a… creature - Chip wouldn't call Krueger a man - whose will
was even more formidable than Nelson’s own and being forced to shoot his best
friend… Well, Chip and Jamieson had both been watching for the fallout. Chip
sighed. It couldn't have come at a worse time. “Admiral,” he said cautiously,
“I'm going to call Jamie, get him here. Everything will be all right, sir.” He
could see the moment Nelson realized that Jamieson was being called for him.
The sharp blue eyes widened and the famous temper looked set to blow. Then
Nelson stared off to Chip’s left and nodded once, purposefully.
“I don't have much choice but to believe you. Chip’s
news fits too neatly with what you are saying. I believe you; I don't trust
you.” Nelson swung his eyes back to Chip, seeing the growing consternation in
the blue eyes that had trouble meeting his. Measuring me for a
straightjacket, I warrant. Well, we've been there before and all too
recently. “Mister Morton, I lately had occasion to ask you to trust me at a
time when trust should have been impossible. I need you to do so again.”
Chip raised his eyes to lock on Nelson’s own. Whatever
he saw there seemed to convince him because he nodded once, slowly. “Sir, what
is going on?”
“Krueger is here, Chip,” he said it gently, reached
out to place a comforting hand on a flannel clad arm as the younger officer
started and stared wildly around the study.
“I… don't see him , sir.”
“Because he is not tied to me, Admiral. I never worked
my will upon him as I did you and, to my shame and punishment, your captain.
And your captain is not here. There is that about him that thins the barrier…?
Nelson snorted, turned back to Chip and ignored the
implied questions of both man and ghost. “Chip, call Jamieson. I want an
ambulance with attendants and Jamieson himself . I want one of our rescue units
as well.”
“Ropes, Admiral, he is down a cliff.”
Chip noticed the pause in the shotgunned
instructions before Nelson added, “Stokes stretcher, Chip. Make sure they bring
one. And lots of rope.”
“Sir?” Chip Morton experienced an overwhelming wish that
Lee was there. Something was going on that he did not understand and his friend
had a knack for dealing with things that made no sense.
“Chip, lad.” Chip rarely heard that soft tone of voice
from the admiral; a commanding tone came much more easily to him after a
lifetime at sea and in charge. “Chip, I need you to set aside your questions
and get things organized. I don't think Lee has much time.”
That was enough to get Chip moving. If the old, old
man had gone off the deep end, having Jamie there would do no harm. If there
was something … weird … going on, it wouldn't be the first time and if it found
Lee… He went to the study phone and started punching buttons, ignoring Nelson’s
sotto voce conversation with someone who wasn't there. He went out in the
kitchen and fired up the coffee maker. It wouldn't hurt to get some hot coffee
in the admiral; Chip had seen the brandy bottle and though Nelson didn't appear
tipsy… Besides, it got him away from that library. Something about the
flickering firelight and dim corners had transformed what had been his favorite
room in the admiral’s house into a place from which he was anxious to be gone.
It was with great relief that he answered the doorbell not fifteen minutes
later, thermos of hot coffee in hand. Jamieson was at the door, behind him
Kowalski and Patterson. “Hey, Doc. He’s in the study.” As the doctor
brushed past him, he asked his crewmen, “What are you two doing here?”
Ski shrugged and said, “We're filling in for Tomlinson
and Barker on the rescue crew. They're taking their rugrats
trick or treating. Sir, what’s going on? I heard a rumor that the skipper’s
mechanic showed up on base yelling about a tie rod and now you're calling out a
rescue crew. The skipper in trouble, sir?”
“Don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't add two
and two, Ski. Yeah, we think so but it’s crazier even than that.” The XO
hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to explain to even these two most loyal
seamen. He was saved making the decision when Nelson came sailing down the
passageway, Jamie in puzzled tow.
“Let’s go. We haven't much time. Chip, you drive my
SUV. Ski, Pat, glad you're here.” As Chip departed for the garage, Nelson’s
keys in hand, the admiral added, “Who’s on for medical, Doc?”
“Frank and Tom.” Jamieson was keeping his answers to a
minimum, more interested in studying Nelson. The few brief remarks Nelson had
vouchsafed him in the library had done more to confuse than comfort him about
the admiral’s state of mind. Then again, after the last cruise Jamieson wasn't
willing to just assume that the old, old man had lost it. It wouldn't hurt to
play this out.
“Good, they're both good with Lee.” As Nelson’s
Cherokee pulled up behind the ambulance and rescue squad, Nelson led the way,
saying with an irony that was not lost on Jamieson, “ Sit up front with Chip,
Doctor. I'll take the back with my illusion or delusion as the case might yet
be. We'll see.” Jamieson shared a glance with Morton; he hadn't thought his
skepticism was that blatant. Chip said quietly, “Admiral, there’s coffee in the
thermos back there.”
“Thank you, Chip, but despite appearances, I'm not
drunk. Well, Krueger, we're ready to go. Where do we go?”
“There were
trees, a winding road, springs coming off the hill here and there. It is
difficult in this form to tell but I do not believe we are that distant from
the captain. East, I believe, and not near the sea.”
Nelson
nodded. Shortly after Crane had come aboard Seaview, the young officer
had taken him driving one Saturday afternoon when they needed to hash things
out after yet another mission that demanded compromises no captain should have
to make. Nelson had felt no qualms for his safety as his captain exceeded the
speed limit on the narrow, two lane road that saw little traffic since the land
had been put into conservation. They had passed a police cruiser; the
driver had merely exchanged salutes with Crane as his speed never slackened.
Lee had said quietly, “They know me out here.” Somehow they had come back from
that drive restored to charity with one another even though few words had been
exchanged. Nelson winced as he remembered Lee asking him along for the drive
that evening. A drive he had ducked, citing Halloween duties rather than his
reluctance to face what he had done.
“Had you
been with him, Admiral, you both would be missing. That would do the captain no
good.”
“Stay out of
my head, Krueger,” Nelson snapped. “Chip, take Sutter's Pass Road. Lee said he
was going to just drive.” The three vehicles picked up speed as they left
N.I.M.R.’s compound and took to the highway. Nelson cast a glance at his two
officers in the front seat before saying, “I've noticed, Captain, that you
rarely use Lee Crane’s name? Any reason for that?” Nelson checked on Krueger,
something he had avoided doing as it was disturbing to see Krueger apparently
standing in the foot well of the car, visible from the knees up. Were he
anything but a ghost, his feet would have been worn away by friction long
since. Nelson wondered why Krueger couldn't appear to sit, suspected that for
all his talk of atoning for mistakes, the captain still wanted an edge. Krueger’s
next words added weight to that supposition.
“He was
perfect for what I needed, in position, in youth, in skills and strengths,
Admiral, and in an openness to that other plane. But he is very much his own
person. Had I allowed myself to know him, to see him as anything but the
fulfillment of my needs, Lani and I would still be
parted. He is “the captain,” that is all.”
Nelson
snorted. “That he is, and more. And, it seems to me that you and Lani are still parted.”
“It may be
that in saving your captain, I will save my soul. Lani
waits for me. I am sure of that. And the captain waits for you.”
Nelson heard
a faint, whispery, “Chip? Admiral? Find me…” in a voice he well
knew, even to the pain that colored the words. “Chip! Can't we go any faster?”
“Aye, sir.
If you're sure that we're heading for Sutter's Pass, there’s a shortcut I can
take. Lee doesn't like it because it’s “boring” to drive.”
“Do it.”
Silence
settled on the passengers of the car, mortal and otherwise. Only Nelson’s
occasional direction and Chip’s passing it on to the vehicles following
disturbed the uneasy quiet. Finally, as they turned onto Sutter's Pass, Nelson
mentally shrugged and decided his officers couldn't be more worried about his
mental state than they already were, and there were things that had to be said
before they found Lee. If they found Lee. If Krueger were more than the
workings of his own guilty mind, as Jamieson was professionally bound to
suspect. He said aloud what he had been thinking. “Captain, it occurs to me
that that you need to see Lee Crane for who he is rather than who you needed
him to be. He can't still be merely “the captain” to you. Isn't that part of what
“tied” you to each other? That he was nothing to you but physical presence?”
“Perhaps, Admiral, you are right.” The temperature in the car rose
abruptly and Nelson snarled an angry, “Krueger. Dammit! Get back here!”
Jamieson
turned completely around in his seatbelt as Nelson hit the back of his
seat. Chip flinched but kept his eyes on the road as he asked, “Admiral,
what’s the problem, sir? Do I need to stop?”
“The
problem, Chip, is that I just sent Krueger to where Lee is injured and waiting
for help. Instead he'll get a dead man who tried to take his life.”
Chip gulped,
not liking that scenario at all. But he needed to keep Nelson on track and
thinking, not blaming himself for what he could not control. “Sir, Lee’s
handled worse. What do I do now, if our … guide is gone?”
Nelson
sighed heavily. “Just keep driving, Chip. But slow down as we go through the
Pass. Notify the men to keep alert for any sign of the captain’s car, any sign
of an accident. Get Ski to use the searchlight.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chip exchanged looks with Jamieson, received a subtle shrug of the shoulders as
they came to a silent agreement to let this play out. Chip still harbored hopes
that Lee would show up complaining about the lousy steering on his loaner car.
But as Jamieson kept speed dialing the captain on Morton’s cell with no answer,
those hopes faded. From behind them came the bright beams of the lights mounted
on the top of the N.I.M.R. rescue vehicle playing against the dark night,
picking out trees and bushes and the - so far - intact
guardrail that bounded the roadway. Chip checked on Nelson in the rear view
mirror. The admiral was staring out the window with an intensity that gave Chip
the impression he was physically riding the searchlight’s beam into the
darkened canyon.
Geez, buddy,
you better be all right. I don't think the admiral can... Chip shook his head. The
admiral would do what the admiral had to, bear what he must. Better I should
worry about me and the crew. He glanced over at Jamieson as the
doctor once again lifted the cell phone to his ear. Jamieson listened for
too long a time; Chip wasn't surprised when he closed the cover with a
sigh.
Lee woke
again, not sure why. He'd been drifting in and out for a while now as the cold
and pain settled deep into his bones. But he was awake and so he did what he
did every time he awoke, started clawing at the ground again. He had a small
pile of mud pushed to the side but was still pinned down. Not making much
headway, I mean legway… maybe leeway. Lee chuckled
weakly at the pun that would not have merited so much as a snort from his
XO. Mus… be in worse shape than
I thought if thass best I can do. Wish, wish I had
taken a'mral up on his offer to… to hand out candy.
Glad he didn't come with me. Chip doesn'… need… lose
both… No! That isn't an option. Have to get out; get back to my boat, my
crew. Pressure seemed to build within him; the same feeling that had sent
him out on the road as if he could outdistance whatever it was that felt so
wrong.
He shivered
from something other than cold, wouldn't put a name to the sense that he was
not alone in his skin. That was over; Chip had explained what he didn't
remember and assured him that it was over.
“Captain.”
No, it was
over.
“Captain Crane.”
The moon
wasn't bright enough to see by; that … figure had to be a hallucination brought
on by his head injury. Lee struggled to pull himself out from under the car;
uttered a strangled cry as something dug deep into his leg. He had to stop; his
breath coming in harsh pants as he watched, wide-eyed and trapped, as the man
from his nightmares came close.
“I mean you no harm, Captain.”
Lee shook
his head, swallowed as nausea threatened. A protest ripped from his throat,
“You're dead!”
“And have been for some
time, Captain. We've established that.”
Lee kept wary eyes on the specter as he struggled to
reach beneath the trapping metal and free his leg. He wasn't going to be taken
again, not if it cost him his own life. And then Krueger spoke again.
“Captain, I need your
help.”
Lee found himself listening. This seemed a chastened
man, not the arrogant U-boat captain that had wreaked such havoc on his boat
and him. Still wary, but caught by that unaccustomed note of pleading, he
answered, “What kind of help? I tell you now that you won't be taking me over.”
Lee hoped that Krueger could not hear the uncertainty under that declaration.
“Captain, such is not my
intention. And I doubt that I would be able to even if that were my intent.”
“You didn't have much trouble … before.” Lee grunted
as he sliced open the side of his hand on whatever was piercing his left leg
above the knee. He brought it to his mouth, cleaned off the mud and oil before
checking and then ignoring the injury. He had worse problems than a two inch
gash.
“Ah, but your admiral
aided me… before.”
That brought Lee’s head up and he glared defiance at
the spook. “Like Hell he did. It was you, all and only you, Krueger.”
“But it was by his hand
that the weapon was fired, Captain. I needed that appearance as much as I
needed you weakened, on the verge of death, to succeed in “taking you over,” Captain. I don't have either of
those advantages at the moment.”
Lee hoped Krueger spoke truth and was not trying to
lower his defenses. Because, while he was sure of the admiral, he wasn't so
sure about himself. He really didn't feel so hot. He swiped at his forehead
with a cotton clad arm and rested his head against the car. Just for a moment
before he went back to freeing himself and dealing with a dead man. Despite his
best efforts, despite the presence of Krueger, the world reeled around him and
his eyes closed. His last thought was a prayer that he was still himself when
he awoke.
Krueger drifted over toward Seaview’s captain. The
officer was sprawled on his right side, the MG axle deep in mud atop him. The
ghost shook his head. He wasn't sure whether Crane had the worst luck of anyone
he had even met or the best. The fact of the accident was certainly bad
luck but that he had been thrown clear before the tree came crashing down on
the driver’s seat was definitely good. Winding up under the car was not happy
chance but that he had managed to end up in a boggy patch of ground … well, six
inches either way and he would be dead, crushed by the weight of the car.
Krueger could see the effort Crane had made to dig his way out; could imagine
the pain of twisting to reach beneath the vehicle despite bruised ribs and
trapped legs to make the attempt.
He had not lied to the captain; he had needed to
shatter the strong-willed young man both physically and psychologically to
succeed in his takeover. And even then had never really been certain of his
power. Crane should have killed that girl at his demand; that was his intent, but
the body he inhabited had fought him all the way even though Crane was barely
conscious. Even now, Krueger remembered how difficult it had been to deny Crane
his humanity, to see him as nothing more than a useful tool. His presence here
was proof that Crane had exerted some unknowing control over him even as he
forced his will on the man. A control that even now the captain exerted in
unconscious defense of his boat, his crew, his admiral, himself. Nelson was
coming; surely he could leave now. Krueger tried to follow that faintest of
threads to his Lani and beyond… and failed.
Apparently, there was more required of him that simply notifying the admiral
where his captain was to be found. Perhaps Nelson was right or… Krueger felt a
cold chill up what would have been his spine had he a body as he considered the
next step might not be his but Crane’s. Was understanding and forgiveness even
possible?
He
contemplated his erstwhile host, aware as he had not been for some time of the
passage of time. It had to be tonight if he was to be with his Lani. Crane was stirring.
“Mmm.” Crane coughed harshly. Rolled his head from side to
side as if he fought for … or against … returning awareness. Even before he was
fully conscious, he was scrabbling at the mud, pulling a handful out from under
the car. Finally, dazed amber eyes opened in an ashen face. Krueger moved so
that the trapped officer could see him. His already high regard for the young
captain increased as the man looked at him and murmured, “You still here? Just
as soon you… not wait around… for me to join you.”
“Captain… Lee…” Krueger saw the dazed eyes narrow at that mode of
address as the young officer forced himself to pay attention. He went on,
“I do not believe that it is intended that you join me. Your admiral is on his
way. You need merely to hold on.”
“Then why?”
“I'm not sure, Captain... Lee… I did not move on with Lani when the island was destroyed. Apparently there is yet
something I must do.”
“Maybe…
maybe you need… to understand what you did.”
“And perhaps you need to know as well, my…” Krueger cut himself off
as Crane reacted to that innocently used possessive. “Captain.”
“Why? Why
me?”
Lee noted
that Krueger seemed reflective, gave consideration to that question. Lee
figured he would give the man… the ghost … all the time he needed. If Krueger
was preoccupied with questions, Lee figured he'd be less likely to try to
occupy… He bit his lip on the chuckle that wanted to break free at that, this
time, inadvertent pun. Then again, he probably doesn't want to move into a
property that isn't very mobile. At that thought, Lee stopped his painful
struggle to free himself. Better trapped by a car, than by a ghost. With
nothing better to do than hold on for the promised coming of the admiral, Lee
turned his attention to the luminescent presence that bore him unwanted
company.
"Why,
you, Captain? I think because we once were alike..."
Krueger raised his hand at the immediate denial that
crossed the young captain’s expressive face. “No, hear me out! Please.” Krueger
waited. Without the need to mimic life, he had not bothered to establish an
illusion of breathing. He wished now he had; in life, he would have held his
breath waiting on Crane’s answer, a useful distraction. And then he had
evidence that, in this way at least, he and the other submarine captain were
not alike; he would never have given an enemy even a moment’s consideration of
such a request yet there was Crane, nodding painfully and saying,
“I'm listening.” Lee squeezed his eyes shut a moment,
reasonably sure now that whatever Krueger’s motive for seeking him out on Hallow’s eve, it wasn't to usurp his life. He couldn't have
said why or how he came to that assurance, but he was 99 per cent sure of it.
Still, that one per cent meant he wouldn't let down his guard. A shudder hit
him and he bit his lip, rested a hot forehead against cool metal. Admiral,
if you're coming, hurry.
~~~~~~
Nelson straightened in his seat suddenly and snapped,
“Did you hear that?”
“Hear what, sir?” Chip’s voice betrayed none of the
trepidation he felt as Nelson’s eyes swept the interior of the car as if
something, someone, could be hidden there. He wasn't reassured as the admiral
sat back and shook his head.
“Nothing, Chip. Guess I'm jumping at shadows.”
Blue eyes met brown in the front seat. The admiral
wasn't given to jumping at shadows. Halloween, indeed.
“Chip, how far until we reach the end of this canyon?”
“Thirty miles or so, Admiral. Should I speed up?”
Nelson shook his head. “No, Mr. Morton, we don't want
to risk driving right past Lee.” He went back to studying the road, his chest
heavy. He found himself silently encouraging his missing captain as if the man
could hear him. Just hang on, son. His concentration was shattered as
the searchlight went dark. “Chip!”
“On it, Admiral.” Chip guided the Cherokee to the side
of the road and was out the door and striding back to the rescue squad before
Pat even brought the vehicle to a stop. Behind the squad, Chip could see the
medics’ worried faces in the dome light. But they didn't waste time demanding
explanations, just sat patiently with the ambulance’s engine turning over. Chip
wasn't as patient. “Ski, what the hell?” Kawasaki didn't wait on
the XO’s arrival but hoisted himself up on the hood and reached for the
searchlight. As he stripped off the casing, he threw Mr. Morton an explanation
he figured the man didn't need, although given what had to be the XO’s worry
level…
“Light blew, sir. Hand up that spare, Pat.” It
was the work of a moment to replace the bulb. Ski bit back a curse and blew on
his fingers as the hot glass bit at his hand. He knew he was taking shortcuts
but something told him the skipper didn't have a whole hell of a lot of time.
As he slid back to the ground, he looked at his XO, saw the same worry in the
blue eyes that he felt in his gut. “Sir, I'm getting a bad feeling here. Almost
like… He stopped, not sure he wanted to go on, not sure how to go on.
“Ski?” Morton did his best to hide his impatience.
Kowalski was a good man, dedicated to the boat and the man who commanded her.
It paid an XO to listen to a man of his proven talents. Chip shook his head as
he watched a tide of red flow over his leading seaman’s face. “Spit it out,
Ski.”
“It’s nuts, sir. It feels like… that last mission… the
U-boat…” Kowalski swallowed as Mister Morton’s eyes widened. The XO cleared his
throat and said, “Let’s concentrate on this mission, Ski, and find the
skipper.”
Patterson tilted his head in the blond officer’s
direction and asked as Kowalski buckled himself in. “What’d you say to the XO,
Ski? He looked as if he'd seen a ghost.”
“Maybe he did, Pat. Let’s get moving.”
Admiral Nelson echoed Patterson as Chip swung behind
the wheel. “Get moving, Chip. I don't like Krueger’s absence.”
This time, as Jamieson exchanged glances with the XO
he was surprised to see acceptance in the blue eyes that met his. The doctor
settled back in his seat.
~~
“I was older than you are now when I came to submarines, Captain,
but young when I first dove. It was then -- wearing what I am sure you would
think a laughably antiquated Siebe Improved Diving
Dress -- that I fell in love with the sea. I dove as often as I could,
first for Siebe himself, then as a naval officer,
attached to the Valdivia expedition as a diver. Do you know the freedom, the
glory, of swimming where man was not designed to go? To watch the dolphins at
play in their world and to be part of it? To walk on land that has never known
air? To see sights other men will never know?” Krueger watched as amber eyes
caught fire. Yes, the young American did know those feelings. “In 1906, I
called on every contact I had to be assigned to the U1. I knew, you see, that
the future was in that small, smelly, uncomfortable, dangerous boat. I knew
where she would go, what she could do … and the doors she would open for better
boats. And I knew the world outside her skin as did few others. I worked my way
up in that boat, learning each component, each rivet, until she was in my bones
and blood. Do you know that feeling, Captain?” Krueger held that amber gaze
with his own until Crane nodded. He did not need that agreement to know how
deeply the other captain felt his boat; it was part of what had drawn him to Seaview’s master.
This was a man who could understand him as few did, a man in whose body he
could be comfortable despite their physical differences. He again felt that
thrill he had experienced when he first met the young American, yearned for a
willing connection instead of that he had forced upon the so young
officer. “You know whereof I speak, Captain, we are not so different, you and
I.”
Lee ran a
shaking hand over the top of his head, grabbed the back of his aching neck.
Yes, he knew the thrill of being part of the sea, of learning her mysteries.
Was that why Krueger had … He shied away from that thought, not ready
to consider that he and this ghost shared more than a profession. Krueger
was talking again and Lee found himself listening, thinking it was not so
different from hearing the admiral speak of his experiences in wartime.
“And then I was given command of U-444. Ah, I
had no better day until I met Lani. Though it was
wartime, I had a command, a mission, though meine graue Dame was never so grand as yours. Sometimes it
felt as if we were as much at war with nature as with our enemies. It was cold;
so very cold as the sea leached away our heat. The bulkheads were beaded with
condensate that fell like rain on my poor exhausted, cold crew. I would see
them try to warm their hands upon the motors in the engine room. Our batteries
needed frequent recharging; we would run upon the surface but were tossed about like corks in any kind of sea. And
the smell …Mein Gott, the smell. Not like your
Seaview; meine graue Dame
smelled of the bilges where collected the diesel, the garbage, the illness of
sick sailors. But still, we lived, we fought and we had victories that made her
not only our vessel but our home. We took down Hogue, Cressy
and Aboukir; 12,000 tons of warship, Captain, and the
souls of 1500 of the fatherland’s enemies.* One small unterseeboot.
You have no experience of such, Lee, but you have known other victories,
against enemies that I can scarce believe. You too know what it is like to lead
men into hell and back out again. You too feel your boat in your bones. You too
feel the calling of duty, of mission. We are much alike, my young Lee, much
alike.”
Lee had been
caught up in Krueger’s remembrances. It was as if he lived the voyages of
U-444, as if he shivered in the chill, damp air, smelled the sickening aroma
that men had no choice but to endure, shared hardship and hard won victory,
became part of the gestalt that grew between men and ship in times of danger.
He didn't notice the tendrils of need, of want, drifting toward that place in
his mind and soul where his love for the sea and his boat and crew was most
strong, until too late. He had a moment to remind himself that there was that
1% of which he was not sure when he felt himself growing colder; Krueger’s
hated voice becoming his entire world.
Krueger felt
his connection to Crane begin to firm. All his good intentions shattered; his
wish to share eternity with Lani faded as the link
brightened. He kept talking, needing to make that union strong. He could
imagine himself alive, striding the decks of the Seaview, seeing the sea as no
one of his generation could even have imagined. “You
know, Captain… you know, my
young Lee; you know what it is like to swim in the sea, to live in the sea, to
command men and machine. The majesty, the mystery; to know that you are there
through your own efforts… our skills, our design, to be greater than lesser
men, to owe nothing to god or chance. I do not want your death this time, Lee.
I want only to share your life. My experience, your opportunity, together we
shall be great. You know your boat, your time; I know men and command. You are
too careful of your men, too… No!” Krueger damned himself as he felt the
connection break, as Crane did what he had been unable to do previously.
Somehow, someway the young commander had pushed him out.
“No! Dammit.
Get out of my head! You'll never set my foot on Seaview, Krueger, never…
not my crew, not my boat… you're.. I'm… not greater… not…” Lee
felt as if something red hot was washing through him, burning away those
soporific tendrils giving him back himself. But it was too much, hurt too much,
his head…
Krueger
watched as Crane’s eyes drifted shut, as the lean body stilled. He tried a
tentative probe and bounced. Krueger watched and brooded. So, they were not so
alike as he had thought. The sympathy, the empathy, they had briefly shared had
shattered against the American’s certainty that in this they were not alike;
Crane did not share his belief in what made them what they were - or even what
they were. He did not recognize they were men apart, giants in a world of pygmies,
men born to possess what they willed. But he still had hope. They shared a
love of the sea and of duty; he had roused that sympathy once. Nelson was
still some distance away; he would try again when … if … the young captain
awoke.
Lee drifted
on the edge of consciousness. He had passed beyond being cold to a weightless
warmth that soothed the aches of his battered body into quiet. Every now and
then, a presence, a voice buzzed in his head but an easy, languid
wave of his hand brushed it away and he went back to floating… and waiting. He knew
that Chip and the admiral were looking for him. And they would find him; he
knew that as he knew Seaview, with a bone deep knowing that defied explanation.
He wasn't quite sure where he was, how he got there - wherever there was
- but it didn't matter. His friends would find him. He didn't know what he had
done to warrant such friends but he counted them among his blessings when life got
too hard, too cold. Chip, Kipling’s 1000th man indeed, who had
shared his family and home as easily as he had shared their Academy dorm room.
Watching Chip and his dad on their leaves at home had been a revelation to Lee.
It had given him an understanding of fathers and sons that had enabled him to
put a name to what been growing between him and The Admiral since the Academy.
The admiral… that had been a surprise that had filled a hole in his life that
he hadn't known was there. He swatted irritably at the buzz by his ear
and relaxed back into the warmth. A small voice in the corner of his mind
warned him that warmth was treacherous, that he had to fight it, had to wake
up, but a louder voice warned him to stay safe until his friends came… stay
safe for his friends…
“Verdammen Sie
es, Junge! Wachen Sie auf! Sie sterben.” Krueger tried again
to gain Crane’s attention and again a feebly waved hand was enough to push him
back. He doubted that Crane had any idea what he was doing but the ease with
which he was holding him at bay was unnerving the German. Something had changed since he
had taken the captain over aboard Seaview and it was not a change in his favor.
He was beginning to think that Crane might be able to push him back into that
nothingness in which he had dwelt for too many decades, lost and lorn, yearning for human contact. No! He would get from
this too young submarine commander that which he needed, if he had to win
Nelson’s cooperation to do it. Nelson… Krueger took another look at the lean,
unmoving form at his feet. Crane’s face was gray in the reflected light of the
car’s head lamps. Golden eyes were half open, staring at something Krueger
could not see. He was drifting away and perhaps taking Krueger with him.
With Crane refusing any help from him, there must be human intervention soon or
they both would be lost. He had known when the search party had reached
the accident site but had let them pass by when his goal had changed from
making amends to making a life but now… he might fail at both. A thought
brought him where he had to go.
“Admiral. Go
back.”
Nelson
started forward in his seat, his eyes sweeping the back of the car. “Krueger?”
The name was snarled in a manner that had Jamieson turning around in his seat
and Chip’s eyes going to the rear view mirror.
“Admiral?”
“I heard
something, Chip. I think we passed Lee.”
“Sir?” Chip
kept his voice calm although he wanted to yell at his superior officer to not
be so damn cryptic all the time.
Nelson
thought for a moment. “Right before the light blew, Chip. I think the accident
site might have been there and when we left, we missed covering the spot below.”
And if we did, it was because Krueger wanted us to. What the hell was that
damn ghost playing at now?
“Go back,
Chip. Let’s check it out before we go any further. Can you turn around here?”
Chip eyed
the roadway measuringly. “We can, sir, but I don't think the ambulance and
security van can.”
“Good
enough. Have them continue on while we check out our temporary stopping spot.
When they get to a place they can turn around, have them hold there until they
hear from us.”
“Aye, sir.”
He passed the radio handset to Jamieson and began the tricky maneuver of
turning around in the tight space.
Krueger
smiled to himself as he heard Nelson order his XO to turn around. There was no
hesitation in the admiral’s voice or in his decision. That was a characteristic
they shared… and one he thought he could use to get Nelson to cooperate before
Seaview’s captain was beyond his use. It didn't take long before he heard a
vehicle brake to a stop and voices from up the hill side.
“Admiral?
Sir? I think I see something. Could really use the van’s searchlight about now.”
Chip watched as Nelson seemed to look inside himself rather than down the
hillside where there was a gleam of light fading even as he watched. I'll
bet that’s the car headlights and the battery’s wearing down. Chip felt his
spirits rise at this first indication that their search was over. He didn't
wait on Nelson’s order to Ski and Frank to bring the other vehicles but started
down the steep slope, clutching at branches to slow his progress from a fall to
a semi-controlled slide. He ignored the cuts and bruises he picked up along the
way. He had more important things to worry about. Above him he heard the two
older men start to pick their way down the rough terrain and Jamieson muttering
about wrenched ankles and broken bones if Chip didn't slow down. Chip ignored
the warning as he did his bruises. And then he was standing next to a small car
sunk axle deep in a bog. The driving compartment was buried under a tree that
had splintered from the force of the car’s collision with it. Chip’s spirits
fell as rapidly as they had risen. Lee couldn't have survived… He steeled
himself to investigate the compartment. A low, breathless moan from the other
side of the car had Chip moving as if he was on flat, dry ground. He let out a
yell as he fell to his knees.
“Admiral,
Doc! I found him! He’s hurt!” Chip wasn't sure where he could touch his friend
to help. There seemed to be more light than the clouded moon or the car’s
dimming lights could account for but Chip was in no mood to question the
advantage. Lee was… “Geez, buddy, you're a mess. Doc’s going to have a fit.”
Chip kept his voice calm as he slipped a gentle hand under the dark curls
matted with blood. “Easy, Lee. I’ve got you.” Dark hazel eyes, the gold
muddied by pain and confusion opened. It took too long before dry lips managed
a broken, “C..ip?” The lean body convulsed as
Lee tried to move and Chip quickly held onto mud-caked shoulders as he ordered,
“Whoa, kid, no moving around until Doc gets here.”
He had to
warn Chip, had to. Lee still
had vivid nightmares of Krueger using his fists to knock down his best friend. “C..ip, here… he’s here, careful… be…” He gasped as cold swept
away the comforting warmth.
“Wilco, Skipper. You take it easy. We've got it covered.”
Chip wasted no time taking off his jacket and laying it over the younger man’s
body. Lee’s skin was so cold to the touch that his lack of shivering set off
warning bells in Chip’s mind. He was beyond grateful when Jamieson crouched
next to him and began a quick exam. And he vowed that Ski and company were
getting a week’s basket leave as he heard the rescue vehicles squeal to a stop
on the road above. Speed limits were definitely not high on the Seaview crewmen’s
list of priorities that night; this one time their excess would draw no
safety lecture from their XO. Welcome light flooded the area as Ski turned the
searchlight on their position.
“Mister
Morton? That good?” Ski’s voice drifted down.
“We'll need
another light down here, Ski. Skipper’s behind the car, in shadow.”
“And I don't
want to try moving him until I can get a clearer picture of what’s going on
here.” Jamieson’s voice was grim as talented hands told him a story he didn't
like. He tossed the cell phone to Chip, said quietly enough to not rouse his
barely conscious patient. “No use bellowing when we've got these. Get Frank on
the line; tell him I want a shock kit down here ASAP. It’s not good, Chip.”
Nelson came
up in time to hear that last. Rank had its privilege and he used it to edge
Chip aside so he could replace him at Lee’s side. One touch on icy skin and his
coat joined his XO’s as improvised blanket over his captain. “Lee? Can you hear
me, son?” Crane’s eyes were closed, his body seemingly lifeless. No! “Hang
on, son. We've got you. It will be all right.”
“He is in shock, Admiral. Drifting in and out of consciousness.
Soon, he'll drift away where no one can reach him. If I don't help…”
Nelson
looked up and saw Krueger standing sentry over Jamieson. Behind… through… the
U-boat captain, he saw Kowalski and Frank pelting down the hill very nearly as
fast as the XO’s reckless trip. It was probably the need to keep intact the
equipment they were carrying that slowed them down at all. Nelson was about to
blast Krueger when he saw Kowalski stop suddenly. Equipment boxes were left
behind as the rating all but ran down the steep slope, snarling - the only word
that fit - curses. Even as the XO shouted his name, Kowalski plowed into the
place where Krueger stood and ended up sprawled in a bush.
“What the
hell? Kowalski? Now is not the time to play tackle with bushes!” Morton wanted
an explanation. Kowalski’s running dive would have taken out the best NFL
linesman but it surely was wasted on nothing.
The rating
sat up and growled. “HE’s here, Mister Morton. Don't you see him? That
damn dead Kraut is here!”
Chip
exchanged bewildered glances with Jamieson as both men swept the area with
their eyes and saw nothing. Then Lee moaned again and stirred restlessly
against Jamieson’s examining touch and the admiral’s supporting hands. Confused
hazel eyes opened and focused on something over Chip's shoulder. Morton
turned, and gasped as a man he thought well dead and gone popped into
view. “Krueger!”
Nelson said
grimly in agreement. “Krueger, indeed. I'm not quite ready for the rubber room
yet, Chip.” Kowalski was on his feet, fists clenched by his side, obviously
ready to take on a dead man. Nelson cut him off. “Ski, get a light rigged. We
need to see what we're dealing with here.” The rating turned away to meet the
medic, laden with his kit and Kowalski’s dropped equipment.
Nelson ignored Krueger, and his men - not without some
askance glances - followed his lead. Jamieson and Frank set about
establishing IV lines by flashlight, not willing to wait until Ski had the
portable floodlight rigged. The injured captain tried to push their hands away,
muttering fretfully, “ just go …way. Won't …” Nelson shared a worried glance
with the doctor before laying a warm hand along a too cold face. With sheer
will, he forced dazed eyes to look at him rather than at the specter growing
increasingly restive at their continued dismissal.
“Easy, Lee. I need you to relax and let Doc take care
of you.” Nelson shot a glance at the doctor. Jamieson shook his head and
said sharply, “Skipper, wake up. Lee, pay attention.” Finally, a mud and blood
streaked face turned toward the physician. “J-amie?
How.. find…?”
“Now there’s a story that can wait, Skipper, for
another time and a large whiskey. Lee, I need you to move your feet. Can you do
that?”
Pain flashed in hazel eyes and Lee gasped. “C..can
move, Jamie, but.. but hurts. Sharp, so…thin sticking….”
Light flared in the small gully as Ski closed a
switch. Nelson swallowed hard as he got his first good look at what they were
dealing with. Crane was lying twisted along the side of the MG, the frame of
the car resting across his thighs. A small pile of rust colored mud spoke
eloquently of his attempts to free himself. Jamieson reached for a sample, held
it to his nose, and shook his head. He returned his attention to the young man
who was drifting off again.
“Lee! Captain! Stay with me.” Jamieson lightly tapped
Crane’s face and got a faint nod. “Tom, get me a plasma bag. What I'm seeing
here tells me there’s some considerable blood loss happening and I don't think
the Ringers is doing the job. Lee, what hurts?”
A pale imitation of Crane’s usual mischievous grin
crossed an ashen face. “Wh…what doesn…?”
Chip turned away from his consultation with Ski and
snapped, “Lee, answer the man!”
Lee grunted as he tried to turn toward his friend.
“Chip… you here too?”
“Damn right, I am.” Chip consciously gentled his
voice. “We'll get you out of this, buddy, but you need to be honest with Doc.”
“Was honest… everything hurts but … it'll be okay,
Chip.”
Chip nodded and said softly, “I'm holding you to that,
bud. You pay attention to Jamie, Lee, and cooperate. Just hang on, we're
going to get the airbags and get this car off you.”
A dark head nodded painfully. One shaky hand was
raised until Chip caught it and squeezed. Lee whispered, “Just so you know…
wasn't… speeding. Steering just went…” A cough carried off the rest but Chip
had heard enough.
“I know, Skipper, you got loaned a lemon. Tie rod went
out on you. Lee?... Doc?” Jamieson eased Crane’s hand out of Morton’s hold and
said, “We need to get him out of here, Chip. Explanations can definitely wait.”
Doctor and admiral watched as the young XO got himself under control and went
back to studying with an engineer’s eye the placement of car and victim. Nelson
said quietly, “We obviously should report this to the highway patrol but I'm a
little hesitant given the circumstances.” He nodded in the direction of the
German captain, standing in rigid disapproval. Jamieson scowled. “Question is
whether we can do this without them, Harry. We're covered on the medical end;
we're as equipped as any municipal ambulance and I've got Tom and Frank as
backup. But can we raise this thing off him without doing more damage? We need
to make a decision soon because the skipper doesn't have any time to waste.”
Nelson said testily, “We're better equipped than any
other rescue vehicle you could find, and Ski and Pat are both checked out for
rescue work. And don't forget that Chip was lead on our disaster recovery
plans; he knows what we've got and what it can do. If he says we can do it, I'm
inclined to believe him. He won't risk Lee... even if we have to explain a
ghost. I do find it odd that we could all see him once Lee woke up. Krueger did
say that something about Lee…”
Jamieson snorted, “There’s something about our
captain all right. Trouble within a hundred miles and he'll find it … or
it will find him. Wish I could surgically remove whatever that something
is. Easy, Lee.”
Nelson looked to where Chip and Ski were carefully
shoveling mud to open a space so they could evaluate what was “sticking” the
captain. Finally, they had uncovered enough that Chip was able to wriggle
part way under the car with a light. Nelson aimed a caution at the rescue
workers that he was pretty sure would be ignored by Lee’s best friend
and self-appointed big brother. “Careful, Chip, that could come down on
you.”
Krueger had enough. Of them all gathered there he had
the most to lose if Crane died before time. And yet he was ignored, dismissed, as if they had all forgotten his power,
forgotten what he had done to their precious boat, to their admiral, their
captain. He should never have admitted to Nelson that he was.. diminished. But
his will was still strong and Crane was fading, taking Nelson’s confidence with
him. There was a chance…
“Admiral Nelson. This
haste is unwise when I am here to sustain the captain. I have done it before.”
Jamieson had all but forgotten the German in his
intense concentration on his patient. The voice startled him enough that Lee
was able to push aside the oxygen mask the doctor held to his face. A
whispery, urgent plea was choked out as Jamieson tried to quiet his captain.
“ ‘miral, Krueger… watch
out… wants to…”
“Shh, Lee. It will be…”
“Not like… him. ‘m not… won't… Wants …Seaview… not
like …him…”
Nelson looked up at Krueger angrily as Lee’s voice faded.
“Care to explain what the captain means by that, Krueger?” He had known when
Krueger had left that the last thing Lee needed was a visit from the German.
Lee’s agitation confirmed that knowledge.
“I had thought that we
were much alike, Admiral, your captain and I. But I was wrong. He is young yet
and has not learned what we … you and I … know. What we know will save his life
and you will have a more responsive captain for your submarine, for your
research.” As he spoke, Krueger moved slowly toward
his target, deftly avoiding the men clustered around the small car. It was
close quarters and Krueger could read the concern of Crane’s - more than
colleagues - friends as he studied the scene, seeking advantage. Nelson
had crowded next to the MG so he could support the captain’s head and had
taken over the job of keeping the oxygen mask in place. The doctor was
practically sitting on the admiral’s lap as he constantly monitored his
patient. The XO was moving slowly and carefully so as not to jostle the admiral
more than necessary. The enlisted men were scattered; the ones called Pat and
Frank up at the rescue vehicles assembling equipment; Tom, the older
medic, was at the doctor's shoulder, holding an IV bag and watching as it
emptied. His lips moved soundlessly. Krueger grinned sardonically, the man
thought prayer would help? Better he should petition someone who had
kept their captain alive once before. The man he had toyed with outside the
brig on Seaview –“Ski” - crouched next
to the man easing his way under the car. Krueger could feel the hate and
distrust, mixed with fear for his captain, pouring off the man. That one, too,
he had perhaps given an edge over him with his meddling. Concentration on the
rescue attempt was total. Even Nelson did not wait on an answer to his
challenge. And while that angered him, he could make use of it. Krueger sent
out a tendril toward that place in Crane’s mind where once he ruled and waited
to feel the pushback that had been the defining characteristic of this meeting
with his chosen body. He smiled as only the faintest resistance was
aroused. Let the young captain grow weaker; Nelson would soon be at the
point where he would grasp any chance to save someone who was more than mere
subordinate.
Nelson
kept an ear tuned to Chip’s voice even as he challenged Krueger. He barely
registered the German’s answer as Chip cursed colorfully. The admiral winced.
That did not sound good; his men were more decorous than most sailors
in speech, partly because Seaview often carried civilians, some of
them women, but more because his captain was a gentleman of the old school and
his executive officer didn't need pejorative language to tear a strip off a
miscreant at a hundred paces. Even in this, Seaview's crew followed where their
commanding officers led. Chip didn't often give expression to his emotions in
such vivid language and Nelson prepared himself for bad news. He
watched as Chip wriggled from under the car and wiped a smear of mud onto his
already dirty face. The XO gave his report, worried eyes never leaving his
injured friend's face. His right hand closed on Lee's arm as if to
lend him strength.
“The
exhaust system was ripped open and apart, sir, and the serrated edges are -
well, the forward edge is jammed into Lee’s right leg. Another inch higher and
he would have been singing soprano.” No one cracked a grin at that gallows
humor. Jamieson muttered darkly about femoral arteries and blood loss, and
snapped a request for another IV setup. Tom handed the IV bag to the XO
and disappeared. Chip went on doggedly, “I think when he tried to get
free, he managed to impale his left leg on the back edge of the pipe. He's
burned too, Jamie. Looks pretty bad but it might actually have cauterized
the wounds. One bright spot, there is enough solid ground under the mud to
support the airbags; looks as if Lee managed to land in the only wet
patch of ground left from that gully washer we had two nights ago. We can do a
straight up lift off but I… don't know what will happen. The undercarriage is a
wreck; looks as if the entire engine is ready to let go and drop. And the
exhaust might just finish what it started; those edges are sharp.”
Jamieson
double checked his patient's status and said, “I need to see what’s going
on, Admiral. When Tom gets back have him start the new IV in the
skipper's other arm."
Nelson
murmured, “Will, we can't afford to risk you. You getting hit with an engine
block won't help Lee.”
“Harry,
I need to see Lee’s situation. If we don't do this just right, he could bleed
out in the time it takes to get him from under the car, lose a leg, or worse.
There might be something I can do.”
“Might be something he can do, Admiral. “Might.”
There
is something I can do, or have you forgotten how I kept your captain alive
after you put a bullet into him?”
Nelson
winced at that reminder. He took a quick glance around at his men; they again
seemed to be unaware of the German’s presence as they conferred on equipment
needs and rescue strategy. His quick mind associated that with Lee’s diminished
consciousness and questions piled up; questions for which he had neither time
nor answers. At least this time his XO and CO wouldn't assume he was short
a sheet when he spoke to thin air. “My captain assures me that it
was not I who fired that shot, Krueger. And I doubt there is anything you can
do that would not make matters worse.”
“Think, Admiral, he is dying. I can feel the
cold of the beyond seeping into him. The pain wearies him, weakens him. He will
not go easy nor rest at peace. There is still a tie between us that would keep
him from moving on, Admiral, and he is not one who would choose to rule
in-between rather than face judgment as did I. And he would not be alone,
though he would prefer that to my company. He fights my help, Admiral, but
he will listen to you. You can get him to accept help; he trusts you that
much."
Krueger
watched as that statement hit home. He knew how that trust only
heightened Nelson's remorse over his actions on the last cruise. He
spoke persuasively, bringing to bear all the force of will with which he had
commanded his crew. After the thinly veiled threat, the
sweetener, "I will not push him out, Admiral, but allow him to retain
the greater control of his body, his faculties. I will be… content… to observe
but if you have need of me, I will be there, a check on youth and
insubordination. You and I, Admiral, we know the necessities of command, of
achieving our goal. How often has he challenged you, who are his superior in
rank, in age, in experience, hindering your work? He need not know of my
presence, Admiral, no one but you and I need know. And you will not see me
unless I am needed. Think on it, Admiral, you will have your "son"
but he will be dutiful as a son should be.”
Nelson
felt a vast tiredness seep through him. Krueger was no longer seeking
salvation, seeking “his Lani.” The threat to Lee was
as great as ever it was. And Krueger knew just where to aim … or would have a
year ago before Lee Crane had proven that a captain who questioned was the
captain that a sometimes obsessed scientist needed to keep body
and soul - and sub - together on his quests for knowledge. Waiting to find out
if Lee would die by his actions had given him all the time he needed to
discover that truth and the truth of his heart. Losing Lee - Nelson shook his
head - Krueger was right in that … losing Lee would be losing his son, his
future. And Krueger was also right that Lee - in defiance of experience -
did trust him, at least with all he was, if not always with his boat and crew.
He couldn't open Lee up to Krueger’s influence. Krueger could yet kill Lee
or worse - Lee could live but be aware of his possession. What of trust
then? But if it kept Lee alive until another solution could be found? Could he
pass up that chance? Especially since, if Krueger was telling the truth,
Lee would not move on to his well deserved reward but be held in-between,
at the mercy of an obsessed dead man. Nelson stroked damp hair off a too cold
forehead and said softly, “Lee, the old, old man needs you to wake up and
shake things up. Find me a solution, son.”
“Admiral?”
Nelson looked up at that soft-voiced
question. Jamieson’s worried hazel eyes studied him with a professional intent
that Nelson waved aside. “I'm fine, Will, let’s concentrate on Lee here.” The
CMO nodded reluctantly and Nelson knew he'd be under some close observation
himself for a time. Time… since Krueger had put in an appearance in his study,
time had been out of joint. It had crawled by with terrifying slowness as they
searched for their missing captain, flashed by with heartbreaking speed as he
saw increasing evidence that Lee’s “Golden Hour” had long since passed. And
judging by Jamieson’s disheveled and muddied appearance, the doctor had already
been under the car in what seemed to be the minute or two since Nelson had
cautioned him against doing just that. He looked at his watch. An hour to
midnight. An hour since they had found the crash site. Ten minutes since
Krueger had argued for Lee’s life … on his terms. “Lee?”
Jamieson shook his head. “It’s not good,
Harry, but it’s not hopeless either. And our skipper is as stubborn and strong
as they come. He won't go easy.” Nelson shivered at that echo of Krueger’s
claim. “I talked it over with Chip. I'm going to see I can't get Lee’s blood
volume up in anticipation of a drop when he’s freed while they set the airbags
up. Get him wrapped up with some chemical heat packs. The cold slowed the blood
loss earlier but he’s hypothermic and that’s not good.” Nelson nodded,
his eyes straying from his CMO to the captain of his submarine and then to the
U-boat commander who waited impatiently for an answer. Which Nelson did not
have. He reluctantly stood up and moved away from Crane’s side as the medics
moved in with blankets and equipment.
“Admiral,
even I cannot return the dead to life. Decide!”
Nelson turned to Krueger but before he
could speak - before he even knew what he should say - his thoughts were
interrupted yet again.
“Admiral? Can you take a look at this? I
think this is the right set up but I'd feel better if you would double check it
for us.” Chip was there, offering a clipboard holding a carefully figured but
hastily sketched drawing of airbag and hydraulic jack placement. Nelson
accepted the board and ran an expert eye over the figures. “You sure about the
MG’s weight, Chip?”
“Ski is, sir.”
Nelson nodded acceptance; the sonarman was recognized as Seaview’s premier car buff and
Nelson knew Ski would not risk his captain on anything he wasn't sure of. “Okay,
Commander, looks good to me. How long to get it rigged?”
“30 minutes, sir. That will give Jamie
time to get Lee settled.” Morton hesitated. �Admiral? How’s he doing?”
“Hanging in there, Chip.”
“Sir, where’s Krueger? Is he gone?” There
was hope in that question.
“Sorry, Chip, he’s still here.” Nelson
watched as Morton swept a gimlet eye around the gully at his reluctant answer.
“I don't see…”
Nelson shrugged. “I think Lee needs to be
more conscious than he is for that to be possible. At least he isn't doing
anything to hinder us, Commander. Better get moving.”
“Hinder you,
Admiral?I offer my assistance to keep your captain
alive and all you can say is that I am “not hindering” you? I had thought we
were much alike, Admiral, men of will who knew our own minds and could make
decisions. Yet you dither while your captain dies. Bah, I shall…”
Nelson held up a hand, stopping Krueger’s
movement toward Crane. “It is foolish to make decisions when you don't have the
information necessary.”
Krueger pointed an accusatory finger at
the limp figure of the Seaview’s skipper. “There is all the information you
need to decide, Nelson!”
“Harry?”
“Stay with Lee, Will, this is a
conversation that can't wait.” Nelson waited until Jamieson turned back to his
patient, still casting wary glances at the empty space Nelson was addressing.
“Tell me, Captain, why didn't go with Lani? What kept you from her? This tie you say you have
with Captain Crane? He, I know, would release you from it.”
“I have said
that there is that I must do before I can move on.”
“But you seem to no longer wish to move
on, Krueger. Why?” Out of the corner of his eye, Nelson saw the impact that
statement had on his men. Chip Morton straightened up and turned toward him,
worry and determination in his expression; his hands gripped the shovel he
wielded as if it were a weapon and not a tool. Kowalski’s eyes tracked
unerringly to where Krueger stood and Nelson took his attention off the German
long enough to ask, “Can you see him, Ski?”
The rating shook his head. “Can't see him,
sir, but I know he’s there.” Nelson nodded. Once they got Lee home and Krueger
gone, he was going to sit down and think about the oddities of this night … or
maybe not. Some things were perhaps best left unexplored even by him. “Okay,
Ski, I'll keep an eye on him. You – “ Nelson saw Krueger bristle at that line;
the U-boat captain seemed even more put out when Chip called Ski’s attention
back to the placement of the airbags and with no more than a quick glance at
the admiral for permission, the seaman dropped to the ground, leaving their
conversation unfinished. Krueger’s attitudes and comments were beginning to
coalesce into something approaching understanding in Nelson’s mind. But he was
not certain enough of his impression to bet Lee’s life on his discernment
of the German’s motivations and plans. His eyes were drawn back to his captain;
he needed Crane. Lee’s intuitive read of situations and people routinely served
as a valuable counterweight to Nelson’s more logic driven perceptions. And
there was nothing logical about a dead man walking.
Nelson was, verdammen
Sie ihn, ignoring him! He
would see about that! Krueger again mentally approached the Seaview’s skipper,
insinuating himself into the dormant mind of the badly injured man. He kept
images of the wonders of the oceans foremost in his thoughts as he felt for
control; he relaxed as Crane did not reflexively screen him out. Yes, this
would work! Let Nelson deal with him when he was in possession of Crane’s body.
Was ist
dieses?Was geschiet?Krueger
tried frantically to control the beginning merge as Crane’s mind
struggled to awareness, using the German’s own strength to fuel his
fight.
Lee smiled as he lazed in the ocean he loved. Exotic
fish flashed through coral forests; a curious dolphin swam over to explore the
weirdly shaped visitor to her world. Lee raised a hand to stroke down her side;
Niobe always… Lee frowned. His hand was encased in a
diving gauntlet he didn't recognize and that wasn't Niobe,
who followed him around when he was diving as if she was - as Chip teased -
Lassie; even his sense of the ocean seemed off, as if he was an intruder bent
on conquest… something’s wrong… that realization brought pain in its
wake but also awareness, of where he was and who he was not, would not be. Krueger!
These were Krueger’s memories! No! Lee struggled to open his eyes, to warn
the admiral, to throw off the weight of the German’s regard.
“Gently, Captain, I am only here to help sustain you while your
admiral frees you from the vehicle.”
Lee didn't
believe him for a moment. As Krueger tried to solidify his hold, Lee fought to
escape. At least this time around he was awake, and he knew his assailant was
not his friend. This time Krueger could not hide behind his admiral. Far away,
he heard his crew, his friends, trying to free him, felt their efforts
to save his life. It gave him the strength to turn the tables on Krueger.
Not quite knowing how he did it, he was in Krueger’s mind - and knew why the
German acted as he did. Knew, too, that he had to tell the admiral; the admiral
would know what to do.
Nelson
watched anxiously as Chip, Ski and Patterson finished putting the finishing touches
on their rescue setup. Frank and Tom had a stretcher rigged with IVs and were
double-checking the monitoring equipment that waited on their patient.
Jamieson’s hand seemed permanently welded to Lee’s wrist. The doctor kept up a
soft litany of encouragement regardless of whether the captain was conscious
enough at any given moment to understand him. As usual, Crane was refusing to
remain unconscious regardless of his physical condition. Nelson
shook his head; that stubbornness might yet save him. He could only hope so.
The admiral had weathered many losses in his lifetime; he would survive even
Lee’s … but the intensity with which his crew worked to free their skipper told
him just how devastating Lee’s … His mind again shied away from the word. No, he
wasn't ready to concede defeat yet. He recalled that he had assigned himself
the task of watching Krueger and turned to where the U-boat captain stood. Had
stood. Krueger was way too close to the injured man and Lee was obviously
struggling against something. Nelson knew all too well what that
something, someone was. How do I stop a ghost? Even as he started
forward, his question was answered by another.
Kowalski
felt something pass behind him; a cold snake slithered into his spine and took
up residence. He remembered that feeling from outside the brig on Seaview when
a dead man walked. He scrambled out from under the car; Krueger would have to
go through him to get to Seaview’s skipper! Even as the XO demanded that he get
his attention back on the placement of the final airbag and jacks, Ski launched
a roundhouse swing at the place from where that singular cold emanated. This
time he did not wind up in the bushes.
Nelson
halted his rush to defend Crane in mid-stride as Seaview’s leading rating
seemed to explode from the shallow trench and launch a punch that would do Joe
Lewis proud at thin air. Nelson couldn't tell who was more astonished: Krueger,
as he wound up on the ground, or Kowalski, as he rubbed his knuckles and glared
at his now obviously visible nemesis. Morton’s orders to Ski cut off mid-word
as the reason behind his action became apparent. As one, the Seaview crew
scrambled to get between their captain and the U-boat captain. Despite the
circumstances, Nelson couldn't stop the slight grin at this new evidence of the
loyalty and rapport that existed on his submarine and made his crew the best on
the planet. He turned to Krueger and surprised a look he couldn't quite define
- perhaps yearning? - on the dead man’s face. Then his attention was drawn to
Lee. A series of rough coughs - almost as if Lee had been pulled choking from
the water - shook the captain’s frame. Despite Jamieson’s soothing voice and
touch, Crane was fighting to remove the oxygen mask, to speak. Finally, fearing
that Lee’s violent struggles would wind up doing further damage to the already
battered body, Will let him have his way. The first word out of his mouth had
the admiral dropping to his knees by the young captain’s side.
“Ad…mral.”
“Easy, Lee.”
A flailing hand caught at Nelson’s sleeve; the admiral covered it with his
hand.
“Lani…left… he wouldn't move on… be judged… has be
right … duty … not ‘nough… crew… thinks failed
crew… saw as … as … part not… people. Wants … do over… Need….” Another bout of
coughing ended in gasps that had Jamieson replacing the mask and scowling. The
doctor nodded toward the IV. Frank held up a syringe and Jamieson nodded. Crane
relaxed slightly after the contents were injected into the IV line. Will looked
up at Nelson and said, “We need to get him out of here, Harry. Now.”
The admiral
stared at Krueger for a long moment, even as he ordered, “Mister Morton, I want
this car off in ten minutes.”
Chip cast
his own combative stare at the U-boat captain before saying, “Aye, aye, sir.
We're on it. Ski, Pat, back to work.” A gesture from the XO had the two medics
taking up position between the two captains.
Will nodded
at his patient, asked quietly, “Any of that make sense?” Nelson ran a hand over
Crane’s hair, stilling the tossing head. “All of it, Will. Easy, son, you just
concentrate on breathing; I'll handle Krueger.”
“Handle me, Admiral? You think you can handle me? Have you forgotten
so soon?” Krueger was on his feet ready to approach the captain but held back
as the two medics stationed themselves between him and his goal. He put every
bit of his will into his voice. It had worked on Seaview, when Nelson was on
his home ground, at his strongest. It did not work here; and Krueger was left
to wonder why.
“Yes, I
think we have shown that together we can handle you, Captain, and will.
You have certainly given us the incentive to do so. You have no place here. You
lived your life, outstayed your death. It is past time you move on. What have
you achieved by staying? Where is Lani, Captain?”
Nelson kept a weather eye on Krueger as he spoke, and was grimly satisfied as
Krueger looked taken aback.
“Lani has nothing to do with this,
Admiral. I only wish to save myself by helping your captain.” Krueger hated the
beseeching tone that had crept into his voice, but the American admiral was too
knowing and, verdamme Sie ihn, had listened to his captain even though the young
officer had to be half out of his mind with blood loss and pain. Krueger
resolutely pushed aside any consideration as to how accurate Crane had been in
his mumbled explanation.
“No,
Krueger, you sent Lani away by refusing to allow her
rest … even after she faithfully waited decades for you. You have second
thoughts about your life, even questioning the duty that you so capably carried
out and you want to what - delay having to face judgment by stealing Lee Crane’s
life? You offer to keep him alive and make of him a captain who is “dutiful.”
Did you require only duty of your crew, Captain?”
“What do you think you know, Admiral? What do you think this boy
knows? You know, he knows nothing and we waste time that Crane does not have!
You should be begging my aid, not talking about things of which you know
nothing.”
“Beg you to
take over Lee’s life? Not even to save it. What happened on U-444,
Captain? Why did your crew go on and you did not? What did you do that has you
afraid to face eternity?”
“Afraid?
You think me afraid? The man who sank the Aboukir,
the Cressy, the Hogue in one action? Afraid? You
think to sit in judgment on me? You on your Seaview know nothing of life aboard
a U-boat. The conditions were wretched; I could allow no complaint, no dissent
if we were to carry out our duty to the fatherland. I had discipline to
consider and my authority.” Unbidden, unwished for, the face of his XO appeared
before him. Even in this, he had thought himself like Crane. Morton could be
brother to Karl Jaman. Again, he heard his XO and engineer
plead for a delay in the attack while they assessed the damage done by the
depth charging they had sustained the previous day. Both men were sure
that they would lose power did he press home the attack, leaving them
defenseless. He wrenched his thoughts away; that was past history and past
history was of no interest to Nelson. In any event, he would understand; the
American admiral was no stranger to making decisions he was best qualified to
make without well meaning assistance from his underlings.
Nelson knew
he had hit a nerve somewhere. He thought back over Krueger’s stated belief that
he was much like the German; they were men of action and decision. Thought too
of the sometimes monomaniacal approach to exploration he had indulged himself
in prior to the advent of one Lee B. Crane, who never let friendship or his
respect for seniority, genius, or ownership dissuade him from protecting his
boat and crew. Dissent…? “No dissent, Captain? No complaints? Fine. I
myself am not know for suffering unsolicited advice.” Nelson bit back a smile
at the muffled sounds of agreement, not intended for his ears, from his
busy crew. “But I have learned to listen to, and sometimes even take, it. Is
that what you failed to do? Who gave you advice, Captain?”
Too close,
he came too close to that thing he had not even told his Lani in those blissful first moments when it appeared he
would have companionship in the place he had chosen to reside even if they
would not live again. Krueger raised his hands to his head; how could a dead
man suffer as he did? And Nelson would not shut up!
“Maybe all
you need do, Captain, is admit that you were wrong, that you made a mistake. We
all make mistakes, Captain, often out of pride and arrogance or just the
well-founded belief that we know more than those around us. Knowing more is not
knowing all, and knowing what we are capable of does not tell us the end of our
limits.” Out of the corner of his eye, Nelson saw Morton and Kowalski
crawl out of their respective trenches and switch to check each other’s work.
He checked his watch; as always his men would exceed expectations. Fifteen
minutes to midnight . Why he thought that important, he didn't know, but he
suspected that Lee’s greatest danger would come then. Seeing Krueger’s distress
- and there was a part of him that he wasn't proud of that took some
satisfaction in that distress - he knew that he was on the right track. His
logic backed up by his captain’s intuition; they had won against greater odds
with nothing more than that and a crew loyal beyond reason.
“Tell me,
Captain, where did you go wrong? Shall I tell you where I went wrong? I did not
want to be thought a madman by my captain, by my crew, and so I concealed from
them my knowledge of you. I thought that I could out think you, out stubborn
you, and that I could win against you by the force of my intellect and will. I
learned otherwise when I looked into my captain’s, my protoge’s,
my… son’s … eyes as I put a bullet into him. What could you have done that is
so much more terrible than that?” Nelson took a step back as the German stepped
toward him, hands raised into fists. His eyes glowing demonically reminded
Nelson afresh that he was dealing with something outside his normal reality,
even as abnormal as was that reality on occasion. The words burst from the
U-boat captain.
“I killed my crew! I would not listen when Karl, when Willy told me
of the damage to the boat. So intent was I on my next kill, that my next kill
was my own boat, my own men. We lived long enough after the depth charging to
know that death was coming, for me to see the accusation in my men’s eyes. You
don't know…
“Admiral?”
Commander
Morton was standing before him. Nelson looked away from the German. “Yes, Chip?”
“We're set
to go, sir.”
“Lee?”
“Jamie says
he’s as ready as he can make him. He’s really worried though, I can tell.”
It was obvious to Nelson that the doctor wasn't the only one worried that
night. He lay a hand on Morton’s shoulder and said quietly, “He’s
stubborn, Chip, and you're doing your best to give him his chance. That’s all
he would ask of you.”
“And if it’s
not enough, sir?”
“We deal,
Commander, as he would expect. Give me a minute to wrap up a conversation.”
Chip nodded
and said tentatively, “You do know, sir, that we're only hearing your side of
that conversation, don't you? Krueger ... we can't see him most of the time.”
The admiral
heard what was not asked. “Later, Chip. Go spend that minute I need with
Lee.” He watched until Chip knelt next to Lee, grasped his hand and began
speaking urgently. Nelson turned back to the German. Krueger had tried to
get himself back under control but if a ghost could shake, he was shaking. “You
killed your crew, Captain, not the depth charges, not the enemy? Are you God
then that you cannot make a mistake, that it is all your fault?”
“I would do it differently now, Admiral.”
“And that is
as close as you can come to admitting a mistake. Lee is right, isn't he,
Captain? You want a do over in his body. It wouldn't work. You think you can
replace him? You think that his crew wouldn't recognize that someone other than
Lee Crane was in command? You think that you could do for me as does he? You
could not. You are not the man he is and never will be. Find another avenue to
salvation, Captain. Put someone other than yourself first. Keep your word to Lani. Submit yourself to judgment, Krueger, but stay out of
my captain. Before I would let you take over Lee Crane I would kill him myself.
He would not ask that of me even if it is all he would want. As the young
people of my time say, Captain, get over yourself and see that what you have done
is not unforgivable. But what you would do here, is.”
“Admiral,
we're ready.” Nelson turned away from the German and toward his men. He knelt
by Crane, grasped Lee’s right arm even as Frank took his left. Jamieson readied
himself to render immediate aid, a pressure bandage opened and prepped. With
that exquisite sense of timing that so frustrated his doctor, Lee started to
come around again. “Ad…mral?”
“Steady,
lad. We're getting you out now.” Lee nodded, said faintly, “Sir? Thank .. you…forgive…
yourself.” The admiral smiled and said, “I've learned that this evening,
son. Next time try to make the lesson a little easier on the old old man, okay?”
Krueger
heard the honest and open affection in the admiral’s voice as he spoke to his…
son. He watched as the Seaview crew fought to save their skipper. Scenes from
Crane’s life cascaded through his mind. This mere boy, he seemed to Krueger,
saw his crew as individuals, cared for them and their well being even as he
required them to do their duty. He was right that he and Crane shared a sense
of duty; but the American had an understanding and compassion that was never
his. Nelson was right that he could not replace this man. Where that left him,
he didn't know. But… he had done his duty and had never intended harm.
Was that enough? Were his sorrow and the decades spent wandering alone with
nothing but his grief enough? Could he go on? Even without Lani
to lean… Ah, he had learned something from the young captain. He could admit
now that he did not, could not control everything. And he could admit as well
that he could not have his - what did the Americans call it - “ do
over” in Crane’s body. He watched the doctor tear open Crane’s shirt, saw the
devastation in Nelson’s eyes even as he reached out to support the blond young
officer that so reminded him of Karl, who could have been friend had he not
placed so much value on his position. He found he no longer lusted after Crane’s
life even if he still feared his own death. Still, in some fashion, he had
lived another life, had seen the wonders of the ocean through the eyes and mind
of a man who found more joy in the simple things of life than he had ever
known. He knew he could remain in that in between place of which he was master,
he had the strength and will to do so. But there was another who could use that
strength to better end than him. And it was time to, again as the Americans
would say, face the music. He prided himself on carrying out his duty; his duty
now was to go on. He felt a sense of peace that had been missing since he
sailed on his first combat patrol steal over him. He approached the young
captain mentally; and with the wisdom and compassion that Krueger still envied,
was forgiven… and accepted.
Time again
telescoped for the admiral. Chip’s “Ready, go!” was followed in short order by
the car rising. Frank, risking his neck if anything went wrong with the lift,
was belly deep in the mud under the car, ready to call for extraction at the
earliest practical moment. Which took forever as time went out of joint. But
then Lee was out and cradled in Nelson’s arms while Jamieson slapped bandages
on the leg that fountained blood. Tom warned in that “medic voice” that was
equal parts panic and determination, “We're losing him, Will!”
“We're
losing him, Will.”Nelson was
sure he would be hearing that in his nightmares as Jamieson yanked Lee from his
hold and laid him flat. He slapped electrodes on Crane’s bruised chest as Frank
prepared to maintain his breathing. And then - Lee moved slightly, amber eyes
opened and he drew a breath. Time seemed to stand still as a voice was heard by
all hands.
“Admiral, I was wrong! I admit it and I will face what I must face.
Lee has accepted my word that I will do him no harm; and he will allow
that I give him the strength that holds me here. I am taking your advice,
Admiral, and finding another way to save myself. I will face judgment
having saved a captain who has saved his crew so many times. He will do what I
did not. And I will see …”
Kowalski
snarled and stepped forward, fist clenched. “Admiral, we can't trust this
geezer.”
A thin,
reedy voice said, “No, Ski, he needs… do…this.”
Jamieson
threw up his hands and said, “I give up. There is no way you can be conscious,
Captain. Or should be!”
Lee smiled
shakily. “Little help from my friends, Jamie.” His voice grew stronger even as
they listened. A tinge of color crept into the ashen face.
Krueger
issued a warning. “I must leave by midnight or else not leave at all. Take what
you need and then let me go.”
Jamieson and
his team hurried to move Crane onto the stretcher, prep him for travel even
as Lee whispered, “Go now, Captain, with my thanks. I will …do. And …
remember, you did your duty as best you could. Ask no more of yourself.”
“Words of wisdom, Captain, from one so young. Remember them yourself
when you have occasion. Thank … Lani! You have
returned!”
For one
moment, time stood still as two luminous figures stood together in the
clearing, hands clasped. The woman spoke, “You had only to choose your
proper destiny, my love; lay aside your fear and your pride and do what was
right.”
“I am ready, my Lani. Goodbye, Admiral,
and thank you. God speed, Lee Crane. If I could do it over…”
There was
silence in the gully for long moments. Nelson looked at his watch and said in
an easy voice that restored a sense of normalcy on a night that had been
anything but, “ Midnight on the button, gentlemen. Good work.”
Jamieson
tightened one last strap and said, “Well, our work is just beginning. I'll put
my faith in good old fashioned medicine rather than ghostly vibes. Lee, not a
word. Just rest... and keep breathing.”
Nelson and
Jamieson stayed a moment as the younger men guided the winch drawn
stretcher up the steep slope. Chip could be heard gently harassing his
friend as to proper clinic behavior. "Will?"
"Better
than he has right to be, Harry. Let's just hope it holds until I can get him
into surgery."
"I
think it will. It must take enormous energy to do as Krueger did. If Lee got
even a portion of that..."
"As I
said, I'll rely on medicine... and on that young man's stubbornness."
Jamieson turned to scramble up the hill. Nelson lingered a moment, studying the
wreckage that had almost wrecked the finest command team and crew he had even
seen, and thinking about the lessons learned that night. He suspected that this
night - what remained of it after Lee came out of surgery and was resting -
would be his first good sleep without nightmares since a pair of amber
eyes had looked at him with confusion, pain and disbelief. He had an unlikely
and unexpected ally to thank.
"Fair
winds and following seas, Captain Krueger, and Godspeed."
* I've
attributed to Krueger and U-444, the exploits of U-9, commanded by LCDR
Otto Weddigen. On September 22, 1914, U-9
sank the British cruisers Hogue, Cressy and Aboukir - 12,000 tons of warships and 1500 crew
- in a single action.