Plan B
By R. L. Keller
Admiral Harriman Nelson
let a heavy sigh escape as his plane landed in Santa Barbara. His
flight from DC to LA had been bad enough and he was regretting his decision to
fly commercial instead of using FS1. But he was ever so grateful
that the short commuter flight to get him home hadn’t been any
longer. The much smaller plane really didn’t have a first-class
section and, while he was sitting as far forward as possible, two rows back was
a young woman with a small baby who apparently wasn’t handling the air pressure
changes in his ears well at all. Nelson wasn’t angry that the woman
could do nothing to calm the baby but he was extremely glad for the return of
quiet! With just his carry-on bag and briefcase he quickly escaped
the terminal and walked the short distance to the parking garage where he’d
left his car the three days he’d been dragged away from NIMR for meetings at
the Pentagon. He hated having to deal with Washington bureaucracy
but it was occasionally unavoidable.
Before starting the car
he dialed the cellphone of his boat’s captain, Cdr. Lee Crane, then instantly
hit ‘end’. His tired brain had forgotten
for that brief second that Lee had been called away for an ONI
mission. Nelson wasn’t overly pleased that the Navy’s intelligence
gathering branch continued to ‘borrow’ Lee from time to time, but with his own
ties to the agency early in his career he understood Lee’s feelings of
commitment. Nelson grinned as he punched in the number of his boat’s
XO – and Lee’s best friend – Lt. Cdr. Charles P. Morton. Known to
his friends as Chip, the blond did not mince words when it came to his dislike
of Lee’s continued association with the Office of Naval
Intelligence. Chip was perfectly aware that his harping would never
stop Lee from accepting ONI missions. But it had become so normal
that both he and Lee expected the rants to happen. They were usually
conducted in relative privacy but both Nelson and NIMR’s CMO, Dr. Will Jamison,
were no stranger to the outbursts and would usually just stand back and stay
out of the way when Chip let loose one of his temper storms.
Nelson grinned again. Lee
was ever so patient with his friend, understanding what was behind the
rants. It seemed Lee never made it back without an owee of some sort… Nelson’s grin faded and his
train of thought died as there was no ring from Chip’s
phone. Nothing, like it was dead. That’s not right, Nelson
muttered to himself. He almost dialed NIMR Security but since he had
to drive right by Chip’s condo complex anyway he slowed down and checked for
the blond’s SUV in the parking lot. Right
where it should be, Nelson pulled in and was shortly knocking on Chip’s door.
Through an open window
came the sounds of light jazz from the stereo, and presently the door was
opened by a surprised Chip Morton. “Sir?” came almost
hesitantly.
But whatever Nelson was
about to say got sidetracked as he saw what the blond was
wearing. Correct to the last little detail on duty, to the point of
being dressed in uniforms so crisp that they almost crackled, today Chip was
barefoot and dressed in ratty cut-off jeans and a t-shirt. It was,
however, what was printed on the shirt that stopped Nelson cold.
99 bugs in the
code 99
bugs in the
code Take
one
down and
patch it
up 132
bugs in the code
Nelson burst out
laughing. Turning a few shades red, Chip stepped back and invited
Nelson in. The condo was immaculate, as always when Nelson had been
inside. But through a door that had always until today been closed
Nelson caught a glimpse of Chip’s true passion, second only to his duty to NIMR
and Seaview – electronic parts and components of every shape and size were
scattered all over several counters and tabletops.
“Sir?” Chip tried again
as Nelson got control of his chuckles.
“Tried calling you from
the airport and your phone doesn’t seem to be working,” Nelson got out as he
took a couple more steps toward the back room and glanced around before turning
back. Chip was pulling his phone out of its clip and started to
frown.
“How the
blazes…” He started pressing things. “Sorry,
sir. Somehow it got turned off,” and he looked up, a worried
expression starting to form.
Nelson held up a
hand. “Relax, Chip. I was only going to ask if by chance
you’d heard from Lee.”
The blond’s
expression went from worried to ticked. “No,
sir,” he growled softly, causing Nelson to smile.
“Down, Chip,” he said
softly. Chip nodded but his expression didn’t change, and Nelson
sent him a nod. “I’m guessing,” he waved a hand lightly, “that the upgrades
to Seaview’s computers that you were working on are complete.” His
smile was back. No way would the submarine’s XO be at home if there
was any work left unfinished – Sunday afternoon or not!
“Upgrades done, supply
orders for the next two cruises under control, and half of Lee’s reports
finished.” He smirked slightly. “I left the harder ones
for him when he gets back.” Chip had easily recognized Nelson’s
efforts to calm down his slightly irritated XO and decided to play along.
“Sounds perfect,” Nelson
told him with another grin. “Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Sorry about the phone,
sir,” Chip said as they walked back toward the front door. “Have no
idea how I managed to do that.”
“No biggy,”
Nelson teased back, and both men grinned at the flip
remark. “Nothing pressing or NIMR Security would have been at your
door instead of me,” he added lightly.
“Too true.”
“See you in the
morning.”
“Yes,
sir.” Nelson headed for home and Chip went back to his ‘toys’.
* * * *
At that very moment the
man they had been discussing, Cdr. Lee Crane, was standing on one of the wharfs
in the harbor at Peterhead, Scotland, north of
Aberdeen. The harbor lay close to the end of a point of land that
faced east; across the North Sea lay Norway. Lee wasn’t too sure why
he’d wandered away from the comfort of his hotel room to stand here gazing out
to sea. Or why he’d brought his binoculars; the early morning light
coupled with a heavy fog made seeing anything beyond a couple dozen yards
impossible. Even the tugboat idling alongside the dock close to his
left was barely visible. But Lee was getting antsy waiting for a
contact who so far hadn’t shown up and had barely slept. The man was
supposed to come across from Bergin with intel that
Lee was then going to transport to the naval submarine base at Holy Loch,
across Scotland on a sea loch that opened into the Firth of
Clyde. Lee wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been asked to play courier
although it could have something to with the fact that he was quite familiar
with Holy Loch, having been stationed there not long after graduating from sub
school coupled with the fact that he had met the other contact so they knew
each other on sight.
He hadn’t been overly
busy – for a change – when Admiral Robert Jones, head of ONI, had called to ask
for his services, and Lee had sort of jumped at the chance to visit a country
he dearly loved. But what he’d apparently forgotten was how quickly
the weather could change! He was extremely glad that he’d grabbed
his high-necked rain jacket to wear over a polo shirt and black jeans but he
was starting to regret not having pulled on socks instead of merely slipping
his feet into a pair of lightweight canvas tennis shoes.
He wasn’t even sure what
kind of intel was so important that it took actual
couriers to deliver it instead of a phone call, telex, or
e-mail. And high-level couriers at that – both Lee and the man he
was meeting, Andy Danilo, were among an elite group of ONI agents normally only
used for specialized assignments. As usual Admiral Jones had been
long on orders but short on details: the assignment was to be carried out at
all costs. Period!
Movement from the tug
caught his eye and, without seeming to look in that direction, looked anyway
and saw a man step out of the wheelhouse and down to the dock. The
fog was wafting in and out in thick layers with the slight breeze and the man
was halfway to where Lee was standing before Lee recognized him as the agent he
was meeting. Neither paid much attention to a couple of men ambling
seemingly innocently along the dock from the direction Lee had come – from the
landing. But Lee had no more than started to smile and turn toward
Andy when the agent pulled out a gun. Lee heard a shot and felt an
instant pain in his left shoulder before he was shoved sideways and fell into
the icy-cold water. He thought that he heard more shots but was
struggling too much just to stay afloat and breathe to be sure.
It felt like hours but
could only have been barely a minute before a strong hand grasped his right arm
and he was tugged back onto the wharf. “Wha…what…happened?”
he tried to get out between teeth chattering badly from both the cold and the
pain.
“One thing at a time,”
came in a woman’s voice. “Let’s get you to the boat,” and she tried
to get Lee to stand up.
Lee resisted and looked
around before becoming extremely nauseous at the sight of three bodies lying
very close to him. “Andy,” he breathed softly between the spasms.
“Dead,” the woman told
him flatly. “As are the other two. From what I could see,
one of the men shot you and the other one shoved you into the
water. Danilo shot both of them but not before one got off another
shot at him.” She tugged at Lee again. “You need to get
to the tug before someone else comes along.”
“Who are you?” Lee
finally looked at her fully. Maybe forty-five, blonde, sturdily
built; not what Lee would call pretty but not ugly, either.
“Your package.”
* * * *
The next hour was a bit
of a nightmare for Lee. He watched helplessly as the woman, who
finally identified herself as Yana Avdonina, dumped
the three bodies into the water after gathering up all the weapons and then
practically dragged Lee aboard the tugboat. While Lee understood the
need to quickly dispose of the bodies he was miserable that he could do nothing
further for his friend and fellow agent. But he was also barely
conscious by the time Ms. Avdonina got him to the
cabin on the tug and started stripping off Lee’s cold, soggy,
clothes. Lee tried to shove her away and pull a blanket over
himself. A string of Russian oaths was muttered just loud enough for
Lee to translate – and then wish he hadn’t. Between the blood loss
and deepening hypothermia from his dunking he finally lost his battle to stay
awake.
The smell of coffee
brought him back but simply trying to turn his head brought such a sharp pain
that he sucked in a large breath, remained as still as possible, and slowly
opened his eyes. The tug’s engines were still in idle-mode but the
movement seemed choppier than what the water had been like
earlier. There was a large bandage on Lee’s bare left shoulder and
the clothes he’d been wearing were laying on the deck next to the backpack from
his hotel room – the only thing he’d carried by way of luggage.
“Found your key,” came
from the stairs and Ms. Avdonina walked into view
carrying a heavy ceramic mug. “Once I moved the tug further out on
the wharf and bandaged the wound as best I could, I cleared your room.”
“My passport and wallet
were in the room safe.”
She shrugged and pointed
to one of the smaller backpack pockets, where Lee could see a corner of his
passport sticking out. “Those safes are not worth using, they are so
simple to break into.” Her voice was accented but not heavily. “I
was unable to remove the bullet. Small caliber, it did not go all
the way through. That will need dealing with.”
“Ouch,” Lee mumbled
softly and tried to sit up. But between the pain, and the quickly
evident fact that he was naked, stopped the movement.
The woman grinned as Lee
tried unsuccessfully to cover his embarrassment. “Coffee?” she
asked.
“Please!” Lee got out
with feeling. He pushed himself into more of a sitting position but
was extremely careful with the blanket. “You can handle the
boat.” It wasn’t a question.
She cringed slightly as
she handed him a mostly full mug. “Not really,” she
admitted. “Andy showed me the basics, just in case…” Her
voice trailed off. “I managed to move us away from…” She
hesitated and Lee sent her a nod. “But I would hate to try to go
very far.” She looked at him. “I was even afraid to turn
off the motors; afraid that I could not get them started again.”
“But we’re wasting
fuel. How far away did you get us?”
She
shrugged. “Just around the next corner of the wharf, to where I
spotted an open spot away from too many other boats. And there is a
mostly full fuel tank. Andy filled it just before we docked where
you found us.”
“I think you found me,”
Lee corrected. He tried to shift position and barely kept from
screaming. A few of the woman’s previously muttered Russian oaths
came out.
She raised an
eyebrow. “You speak Russian?”
“I
manage.” He tried to look out one of the portholes but they were all
covered. “Still foggy?”
“Almost worse,” she
confirmed.
“Not necessarily a bad
thing,” Lee told her. “But we shouldn’t stay here.”
“You can
not move and I am not comfortable…”
Lee tried to raise his
left hand, grimaced, and glared at the woman. “Give me a minute…or a
few,” he amended, “to put some pants on. I’ll navigate, you drive.”
She looked skeptical but
took his mug and pushed his backpack closer before heading back up to the
wheelhouse.
There was more
muttering, in several languages, as Lee spent longer than he wanted to do
nothing more than pull on a clean pair of jeans. He found a heavy
jacket hanging on a peg, assumed that it was Andy’s, and with a shudder pulled
it on his right arm and draped it over his left. He didn’t even try
to put on his soggy shoes. Taking a couple of deep breaths he
growled a few more oaths, this time in English, and very slowly joined Ms. Avdonina, extremely grateful to practically fall into the
second captain’s chair. Tugs of this size usually only had
one. Closing his eyes he took another couple of deep breaths before
starting to look around, checking gauges and instruments. He looked
outside, happened to catch his reflection in one of the windows, and
involuntarily shuddered; he looked like he’d been caught in a
tornado! He’d been in need of a haircut anyway and the dunking in
the harbor had turned his hair into an unruly mass of
curls. Groaning, he tried to bring some order to the mess by running
the fingers of his right hand through them before deciding it was probably
hopeless. His mood wasn’t helped as he noticed Ms. Avdonina grinning at him. “Ms…”
he started.
“Yana,” she
interrupted. “It is easier.”
“Lee,” he
offered. “Maps and charts?” She pulled out several, then
showed them to Lee one at a time as she realized that, one-handed, he was
unable to deal with them all at the same time. He finally chose one
and she laid it on the controls in front of him before once more stowing the
rest.
“I think that we should
go south, toward Aberdeen,” she offered. “We can lose ourselves
easier with more people around.” She frowned. “I wanted
to do that already but Andy insisted meeting you here.”
Lee continued to study
the chart, and had Yana turn the boat’s radio on just so he could listen to the
ongoing chatter. “Ease her away from the dock, then I’ll take the
wheel long enough for you to go pull in the bumpers,” he
ordered. She stiffened, but accepted with a quick nod and they were
shortly travelling slowly away from the wharf. But she balked when
Lee had her turn north and slightly east. “Look. I
understand your logic. But it’s also probably everyone else’s logic
as well. I say we head around the end of the point and then due
west, toward Elgin. It might just confuse whoever’s after you long
enough for us to get away.” She finally nodded. “Did you
come across from Bergin in this?”
She nodded
again. “But Andy was prepared. He had a new name and call
numbers printed on fiberglass sheets and we stopped part way across to put them
in place.”
“Nice,” Lee
agreed. “That will help. Although…” he paused, “the men who
attacked us on the wharf?”
“Followed you?”
Lee tried to shrug but
that simple movement was extremely painful. “Possible, but I don’t
think so. I wasn’t even told what’s going on; just told to meet
Andy.” He sent her a raised eyebrow, an invitation to explain.
She didn’t immediately
oblige, merely focused on the wheel. Lee didn’t push. “It
might be better if you don’t know more,” finally came softly and she sent him a
sideways glance.
Lee tried to smile but
wasn’t sure how successful he was. “I don’t have a problem with
that,” he told her and got a surprised look back. “Not necessary for
me to know.” He thought for a bit. “But if I was
followed, or however you and Andy were compromised, it might be a good idea to
change the game plan.”
“Not go to Holy
Loch?” There was a nervous quiver in her voice; just for a moment,
before she cleared her throat and sent him a firmer look.
“That’s your final
destination?”
“No.” Her
voice was once again steady. “Your
Washington, DC.”
“Okaaaaay,”
Lee drawled as he stared at the chart. “Plan B.”
“What is that?”
Lee sent her a smirky grin. “I’ll let you know, just as soon as
I figure it out.” She snorted softly and once more focused on the
wheel and compass.
Lee knew what he’d like
to do, but under present circumstances wasn’t sure how he was going to manage
it. Not physically. He was stubborn enough that he
refused to believe he couldn’t make his body obey what his mind told it to
do. But he was honest enough to understand that he was going to have
to make some compromises. And what little he might be able to manage
was going to have to be accomplished a good deal more slowly than
normal. Plan B, indeed, he told himself miserably.
It took him a few
moments to realize Yana had said something to him, and he lifted what was
progressively becoming a very heavy head to look her way. “I said,
please go lay down before I have to drag you below. Again,” she
added grumpily.
“I don’t want to leave
you alone as long as we’re moving.”
“You are no good to me
unconscious.”
“True,” Lee
acknowledged. “How far have we traveled from Peterhead? I’m
afraid I haven’t been paying close enough attention.”
“Not far enough,” was
muttered back. “In this fog it is hard to tell,” came a little more
civilly.
Lee nodded
wearily. “You said Andy covered the boat’s name and number but those
two thugs found you anyway. I think…” and he had to stop as suddenly
he discovered that he couldn’t think at all. About anything.
“Lee!” broke through the
mental fog and he once more glanced out at the real stuff.
“Come to dead slow,” he
finally managed, “and while I keep us steady can you take those plates off so
we’re back to the original?” She sent him a doubtful
stare. “The real name and numbers will get us into a port easier
than fake ones, and it might confuse the bad guys long enough for us to get
away.” She still looked skeptical but did as he
asked. Lee took the time to study the chart and the
instrumentation. There were occasional bits of conversation from the
radio but so far nothing that sounded official. Lee knew that surely
the bodies had to have been found by now.
When Yana came back she
was carrying a pillow and several blankets. “If you insist on
staying up here…” He sent her a soft smile and a nod, and she
quickly made a place for him to lay down.
“Stay on the heading
I’ve marked for you,” he told her as he gratefully sank to the
deck. “I wish this were a fishing vessel instead of a tug; we could
go faster…” His voice trailed off and he knew no more.
She frowned before a
small smile touched her face. “Men,” she mumbled softly, walked over
and tucked the blankets more firmly around Lee’s mostly bare torso and
especially his bare feet before once more engaging the engines.
* * * *
Lee was
confused. His body was relaxed somewhat by the comforting feelings
of motor-driven vibrations but it wasn’t his beloved Seaview. The
smells were wrong as well. At least it wasn’t medicinal – as bad as
he felt that was a possibility but the air he was breathing was more ‘open
ocean’ than ‘antiseptic.’ Finally the last hours started to make an
inroad and he slowly opened his eyes. Then almost panicked when he
realized how much time must have passed as it was getting dark outside the
windows. “How long?” he managed to croak out around a dry mouth.
Yana cut back the
throttle and dropped to a knee next to him. A metal cup in one hand,
she helped him to sit up enough to drink. It was only water, with a
faint smell of diesel fuel, but it was nectar for Lee. He drank too
quickly and ended up choking. She tsked at
him and pulled the cup away until he was back under control, then offered it
again. Lee sent her a shy little smile, more grimace than anything,
and carefully emptied the cup. “Where are we?” came out much better.
“If I read the chart
right,” she told him, returning to the pilot seat, “we just passed Saint
Fergus. I don’t remember being this slow crossing from Bergin.”
“With Andy at the helm
you probably weren’t.” He paused to shift position, trying to use
the bulkhead as a back rest. He was only partially successful and
ended up with a decided list to port. “Why a tug, do you know,
instead of a fishing boat?”
There was a growl that
had nothing to do with Yana once more increasing the throttle. “Less
conspicuous,” she muttered. Lee didn’t help her frown when he nodded
an agreement to the other agent’s reasoning. “But he also didn’t
expect to need it after Peterhead,” she added a
little more pleasantly.
“There is that,” Lee
agreed. He also shifted slightly and didn’t get a yelp of pain
totally buried.
“You need a doctor,”
came firmly.
“Already working on
that.” Lee sent a small smile into her frown. “If I
remember right, my cellphone was in my jeans pocket. Trash by
now.” He got a short nod. “Did Andy have one?”
“Tossed just after we
left Bergin. He thought they might track it.” She didn’t
specify who ‘they’ were, and Lee didn’t ask.
“And I don’t trust using
the boat’s radio.” Lee was mostly talking to himself but got a nod
from Yana anyway. “The next decent port is Fraserburgh
if I’m remembering the map.” Again a quick nod. “With
luck that will work nicely. In the meantime, the first aid kit?”
Another frown, but Yana
once more throttled down and headed below, returning with what Lee discovered
was actually a well-stocked kit. She also brought up a cup of coffee
and several bagels. They were dry and a little stale but Lee ate
them anyway while Yana eased the coat off Lee’s left shoulder and unwrapped the
bandage, by now stiff with dried blood. Lee paid attention as Yana
was as careful as she could be cleaning up around the small bullet
hole. It had thankfully stopped bleeding, and the bullet hadn’t hit
anything too vital as far as Lee could tell. Except for whatever
germs might have gotten in, the instant dunking in the icy water had probably
helped, and Yana used plenty of antibiotic salve before putting a clean bandage
in place. This time Lee eased his left arm into the sleeve of the
jacket and Yana buttoned it up. As he handed back the now empty mug
he asked for paper and pencil; once those items were delivered he asked for the
name of the tug, and smiled when Yana translated the old
Norse name of Fiardakolla into
English.
“Cow of the Fjord,
indeed,” Lee chuckled. “Slow and steady. A great name for
a tugboat.” Yana smiled and went back to the pilot’s chair and Lee
busied himself with the writing supplies. When Yana brought him more
coffee she glanced at what he had written, then sent him a raised
eyebrow. “Simple code, really,” he told her. She took a
longer look and shook her head. He grinned. “See, it’s working.” Her frown returned. On
the paper Lee had written three lines of what looked like just a jumbled-up
bunch of letters. One line had a number in it.
laa1dlcgbsf
lkrffachuer
aodisntsrra
“Now all we need is a
way to text these,” he told her.
“Pay phone or telex in Fraserburgh?”
Lee
nodded. “Or get really lucky and borrow someone’s
cellphone.” His turn to frown. “But I’m not sure I want
to put anyone in danger, just in case,” he added, and a quick nod added her
agreement. “Not sure the town is big enough to have a store where I
could buy a burner phone.”
“You? You
can’t even walk,” she scolded him.
“You’re going to go into
town to run errands?” he challenged back.
She
shrugged. “We need food as well.”
“If we can get this
sent,” he gestured to the paper, “we shouldn’t have too long a
wait. Maybe 18 hours, depending on the time the messages arrive and
how long it takes the Admiral to decipher them.” Yana mouthed the
word ‘admiral’ but said nothing out loud. Lee sent her another
grin. “And no, it’s not who you might think,” he told
her. She shrugged again and went back to piloting the tug.
* * * *
“Admiral,” Nelson’s P.A.
called over the intercom. “Dr. Jamison is here to see you.”
“Send him in,” Nelson
answered, wondering what had brought NIMR and Seaview’s CMO to his office so
early. Nelson himself had barely gotten in. On the
other hand, I didn’t see Chip’s SUV in the parking lot, he thought,
and raised an eyebrow as the doctor walked through the door.
Dr. William Jamison, who
nearly everyone at NIMR called Doc, Nelson called Will, and Lee and Chip
usually called Jamie, said nothing as he walked up to Nelson’s desk, merely
holding out his cellphone. On the screen was a text message, no name
attached, just a string of letters.
Nelson sent him a look
and took out his own phone. “I just assumed that it was a mistake,”
he told the doctor as they compared the two texts. But the string of
letters was nowhere near similar, and Nelson’s contained a single
number. Then Chip walked in through the door Will had left open,
cellphone in hand. He said nothing, just held it out as he
discovered the two older men doing the same thing.
“Huh?” all three said at
basically the same time. Nelson sat down and reached for a blank
sheet of paper, quickly but carefully writing down the three lines of
text. As he stared at them, Chip walked over and shut the office
door before he and Will sat down as well. They stayed quiet as Nelson
puzzled over the lines.
But suddenly Nelson
grinned. “Lee,” he said softly, and both Will and Chip leaned
forward as Nelson started to manipulate the letters. It took him a
couple of tries as he first started one line, shook his head, and tried a couple
more times before his eyes started to sparkle and some actual words began to
form. Eventually he turned the paper around.
fraserburgh scotland fs1 fiardakolla
“He made three rows,
wrote the first letter in the first row, second in the second, and so on,
starting back at the first row until everything was spelled
out. Then he reversed the strings and sent one to each of us.”
“If one was intercepted
it wouldn’t mean a thing without the others,” Chip translated.
“Exactly,” Nelson
agreed.
“So, FS1 to Fraserburgh, Scotland,” Chip continued. “What
the heck is that last word?”
Nelson
stood. “We have the time it takes us to fly there to figure that
out.” He looked at Will. “You, too, I
think. He must have had a good reason for including you.”
“He’s on an ONI
mission,” Chip growled. “Of course he’s hurt,” came out even
stronger.
“Or someone
is.” Will tried to sound a little more positive but he had his
suspicions as much as the blond.
“Whatever,” Nelson told
them. “We’ll meet on Seaview in,” he glanced at his watch, “an
hour?”
“I’ll have FS1 pre-flighted by then,” Chip told him and headed
out. Will and Nelson shared a look and Will headed back to Med
Bay. All three had things to do in the next hour.
* * * *
Despite getting shot and
nearly drowned, Lee decided his luck was still in place; that sixth sense or
whatever that had kept him alive so far in situations like this. Or
worse. They’d pulled into Fraserburgh in
the middle of the night but the person who passed for a harbormaster signed
them in with only a scant look and went back to his office. The slip
he assigned them to wasn’t that close in – Lee figured
that it was punishment for getting there at 0-dark-30 but it suited Lee
perfectly. He still had very little strength and his left arm was
useless but he refused any kind of sling, telling Yana when she started to
argue that he didn’t want to give any sign of an injury as they walked into
town the next morning. His shoes were still damp but Yana helped him
put on socks that handled that small discomfort. He covered his lack
of strength by stopping frequently as if he were just looking around, taking in
the sights. They considered trying to get a room – or two – but
eventually decided that staying on the tug would be just as safe, and cause
less of a commotion if they were forced to defend themselves. Wonder
of wonders, they found a place to buy a phone, not cheap, and after setting it
up and sending the three text messages Lee took out the battery so it couldn’t
be traced. When they bought food Lee told Yana not to get too
much. Hopefully they’d have no more than 24 hours before help
arrived – he didn’t explain how. He also didn’t want to make it obvious that he
was hurt as she’d have to carry what they bought back to the tug. He
told her that, if it was longer than 36 hours they would buy more supplies and
move again, maybe as far as Elgin, and Lee would try again to get help.
He barely made it back
to the tug before collapsing but refused to lay quietly once he woke up about
three hours later, telling Yana that he would keep watch from the wheelhouse
while she got some sleep; that he had no idea when the last time was she’d
gotten any rest. She sent him a smirk but stayed below without an
argument while he climbed up to sit in the captain’s chair. The
weapons Yana had thought to confiscate were in a stowage locker within easy
reach.
There was activity
during the day all along the dock but no one seemed to pay the tug any more
attention than a brief glance, for which Lee was extremely
grateful. This was a pretty, peaceful, part of Scotland, and Lee had
no wish to disturb it any further than had already been done. There
was still no word over the Marine Radio Network about the deaths of three men
on the Peterhead wharf. Lee had picked up
a couple newspapers that morning, using them as much for camouflage, sitting in
the tug’s wheelhouse, as he did for any information he might glean from
them. But so far, at least, the police were keeping
mum. He wasn’t sure how much, if any, family Andy Danilo
had. Men tended toward ONI deep service who didn’t have a lot of
people depending on them. That was most of the reason Chip got so
angry at Lee. Lee had all of his duties at NIMR and Seaview to
consider. That, and Lee never seemed to make it back from any ONI
assignment without an owee or two.
Lee grimaced as he
shifted in the chair. “One more reason to yell,” he acknowledged as
the shoulder complained. Lee was just glad that it hadn’t been any
worse, mostly for Yana’s sake – whoever she was!
He was in the bunk about
0300 hours the next morning, trying to sleep but not having a whole lot of
success, when Yana alerted him to something that was obviously frightening her
badly. He rose stiffly and made his way up to the wheelhouse, then
nearly got slugged by the about-to-panic woman as he all but laughed out loud
when he spotted a soft yellow glow coming from under the water about twenty
yards off the tug’s starboard side, opposite the dock. As it hovered
in one spot, Lee made sure all seemed quiet on the dock and then grabbed a
flashlight and signaled in Morse “OK.” All yellow light instantly
vanished, but soon a soft bubbling of water started right next to the tug.
* * * *
Nelson let Chip pilot
what Lee tended to call Seaview’s bright yellow offspring, the Flying
Sub. He navigated, and also spent time trying to decipher the last
word in Lee’s message. He did find a literal translation – Cow of
the Fjord. All that accomplished was further aggravating an already
ticked off Chip. Will sat in one of the back seats trying not to
dwell on what kind of damage Lee had done to himself this
time. Nelson had Chip stay airborne, but far out to sea, until they
were well around to Scotland’s east coast, then they submerged before trying to
get anywhere near the town of Fraserburgh.
They were nearly there
when Nelson finally stumbled upon a possible answer to the dilemma caused by
the unfamiliar word. There was a tugboat by that name checked into
the Harbormaster’s logbook. They went dark as they approached the
marina and Nelson searched with night vision instrumentation as Chip slowly
cruised around until they found the tug. Nelson then had Chip turn
on a couple of small lights, hoping Lee would spot them. If, of
course, they were even in the right place and had the right tug.
Apparently they
were. There was some brief activity in the wheelhouse, then nothing,
then more activity, and finally a flashlight coded out “OK.” All
three men let out breaths they hadn’t been aware that they were holding, and
Chip once more doused the lights and sidled up to the tug’s starboard side.
By that time Lee had
descended to the back deck and tossed a couple of bumpers over the
side. Yana stayed in the wheelhouse. Lee momentarily
wondered if he should have taken away the weapons. But hopefully
she’d figured out by this time that Lee recognized whatever, and whoever, was approaching,
and wouldn’t shoot them on sight!
He sent Nelson a smile
as the auburn-haired head popped out the top hatch, but shook his head as
Nelson would have climbed out and boarded the tug. “We need gone,
sir,” Lee told him simply, then motioned for Yana to join him. “Grab
whatever gear you have and my backpack, please,” he told her. “Our
ride’s here. I hope that you’re not
claustrophobic.” Nelson shorted at that comment as he watched who he
thought was a woman, but wasn’t sure. Yana had donned a heavy peacoat and scarf for her night watch and not much of her
was visible.
Nelson was a little
concerned when Lee allowed the other person to do all of the work getting three
bags and Lee’s backpack from the cabin and handing them over to a waiting
Nelson, who then one by one handed them down to Will, standing at the bottom of
the ladder. Next Lee had her – Nelson decided that it was, indeed, a
woman – climb over and down the ladder before Lee struggled to make the short
transfer. Wanting to help, Nelson grabbed the nearest
arm. Unfortunately he grabbed Lee’s left arm, but immediately let go
when Lee all but screamed. “Oops,” he muttered, and Lee sent him a
small smile.
“What did he do this time?”
came from below in Chip’s aggravated tone.
“It wasn’t my fault,”
Lee sniped back, an old joke used way too often by Lee. Nelson
snorted but very carefully stayed out of Lee’s way as he managed to get to the
ladder and start down. Two pairs of hands were waiting to help,
thankfully, and Lee sent Chip a nod as he settled into the closest back
seat. Nelson quickly got the hatch shut and Chip concentrated on
once more diving. All was dark so everyone maintained their
positions as Chip gracefully and smoothly moved far enough out, and deep
enough, so that he could turn on the lights.
Lee heard Nelson almost
gasp. “Dr. Avdonina,” he barely got out.
“Admiral Nelson?” came
hesitantly from Yana as she pulled off her scarf.
“I gather you two know
each other,” Lee got out quite normally before he passed out.
* * * *
Lee was once more
confused. Every time he fell asleep the whole world seemed to change
and it was making him a little crazy. This time he could feel a soft
mattress and pillow under him but he knew that he was no longer on FS1 because
nothing was moving. Not Seaview, either, because no comforting
vibrations that so often lulled him to sleep at night. Antiseptic
smells sunk in and his eyes popped open. Hospital room, he
told himself. Somewhere, and he looked around for any
clues. Nothing was forthcoming as through the window there was only
darkness But almost immediately he no
longer cared as unconsciousness once more claimed him.
He
was standing on the wharf in Peterhead. He
didn’t see the tugboat, just a whole bunch of people, both men and women,
standing around him. They were even out on the water, and they were
all holding guns. He didn’t recognize any faces at first, but
suddenly he did. Andy Danilo was staring at him, pointing a pistol
at Lee’s face. But before he could shoot Will Jamison walked in
front of Andy, took his gun, and fired. Lee didn’t even know who
Will had shot because at that instant his eyes popped open.
“Bad dream?” came from
his left and Lee turned his head to find Jamie standing next to him, reading
from a medical chart in its familiar aluminum jacket.
“Must had been,” Lee
mumbled. “You were in it.”
Will snickered but told
him firmly, “Go back to sleep.” Lee was actually happy to oblige.
He felt much better the
next time he woke up, and a quick glance around showed the sun
shining. He tried to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the
bed but fell back from just trying to raise his head. “Care to try
that again?” came from the doorway, and Jamie walked in and crossed his arms
over his chest as he glared down at his very worst patient.
“No,” Lee grumbled then
added, not quite to himself, “at least for another minute or
two.” Jamie snorted and spent a few minutes checking Lee over.
“How is he, Will?” came
from the still open door, and Lee watched as Admiral Nelson walked up to the
foot of the bed.
“Right now I wouldn’t
certify him fit to cross the street by himself,” Will muttered, but finally
sent both men a grin as it was Nelson’s turn to snort. “But if
you’re ready, I think we can transfer him to FS1 for the trip home.”
“Home?” Lee demanded,
and tried to see out the window. “Where are we? Sir,”
wasn’t quite an afterthought.
“You,” Nelson told him,
“are at Bethesda. I’ve been helping get Dr. Avdonina
settled.”
“Who is she, sir?” came
out somewhat plaintively, and Will and Nelson exchanged looks.
“You don’t know?” Nelson
asked.
“We never got beyond
names,” Lee told him.
“That explains why you
were such a surprise to her,” Will told Nelson.
The Admiral
nodded. “We stayed away from discussing much about how she ended up
with Lee,” Nelson told him, then turned back to Lee. “Dr. Yana Avdonina is one of the premier nuclear physicists in the
world,” he said. “I met her briefly when I went to that conference
in Moscow a few years ago.”
“That explains her
swearing in Russian,” Lee told him softly.
“You do seem to have
that effect on people,” came from the doorway, and Chip walked
in. “At least those you meet on ONI assignments,” he added, in
reference mostly to their several meetings with ONI agent Michelle Ortiz.
Will grinned and Nelson
chuckled softly as Lee’s darker Mediterranean complexion didn’t cover his
blush. “There’s been talk that Dr. Avdonina
has wanted to defect,” Nelson continued, “but they kept too close a watch on
her.”
“How did ONI get
involved?” Lee wanted to know.
“Robert,” Nelson
referenced ONI’s director, Admiral Robert Jones, “is rather pleased with the
operation.”
“Tell that to Andy’s
family,” Lee growled.
“Whose body has been
recovered and being returned as we speak,” Nelson confirmed
solemnly. “Robert didn’t elaborate but, as no one was expecting ONI
to get involved with this kind of defection attempt, it probably made things a
little easier all the way around.”
Lee nodded and finally
relaxed back against the pillow. “Home?” he asked Jamie.
“One-track mind,” Will
muttered.
“I just wish he’d think
about that before he takes off,” Chip complained.
Lee started to snap back
at his insolent XO. One look at Nelson’s face closed his mouth but
not without an inward smile. It was nice to be back among his
friends!