One Of Our Sensors Is Missing

By R. L. Keller

Presented for the Picture Contest “Found”. There is one tiny grain of truth to this story. Well, two – the fish described does in fact exist 😊 In 2019, off the coast of Germany, an underwater data collector disappeared from its moorings, leaving only a broken cable. The unit had been there for approximately three years with no problems, monitoring changes in temperature and salinity in the Baltic Sea, among other items. Theories abounded as to what had happened to it, but nothing was ever proved that I know of. Beyond that, this story comes entirely from my very warped brain !! PS – a little poetic license was taken to get the right landscape I needed for the story 😊

“Houston, we have a problem,” came softly out of Chip’s mouth before he could stop it. His second most days in Seaview’s Control Room, Lt. Chris James, couldn’t stop the quick snicker that bubbled out. He quickly grabbed up one of the clipboards on the chart table and turned his back to the XO. A small smile pointed at the lieutenant’s back was hidden by the time Chip grabbed the mic. “Admiral Nelson to the Conn,” he said in his usual calm, carefully correct, ‘XO on Duty’ voice. He didn’t bother with a call to Seaview’s Skipper, off on one of his casual ‘walkaboats’ his crew was so used to. Lee would have heard the all-boat call and, depending on what each man was at present in the middle of, might beat Nelson to the Conn.

It ended up being a tie; Lee slipped through the aft hatch just as Nelson came down the spiral stairs. Chip pointed both toward Seaview’s front windows, joining them there as Nelson started to sputter. “Where the blazes is my data collector?”

Chip and Lee exchanged glances before Lee answered carefully. “Not where it’s supposed to be, sir.” He got the expected glare from Nelson but kept a benign expression on his own face.

A year ago, Nelson and several of the marine biologists working at NIMR had put their heads together and developed a piece of equipment for monitoring ocean variables: temperature, salinity, other factors. The unit wasn’t self-sufficient, however. It had been placed just over a mile out to sea from NIMR, at a depth of eighty-five feet. A cable from NIMR supplied it with power, as well as transmitting its data back to the Institute.

Seaview had been off the central coast of California on a project for the Admiral, studying a little-known fish, Macropinna microstoma, or ‘Barreleye’. Found in deep water, it was unique in that the front and top of its head were translucent, filled with a jelly-like, mostly clear, substance in which its eyes could rotate. When feeding, the fish would mostly remain still in a horizontal position with its green eyes pointed up, on the lookout for its favorite food, small jellyfish. When it found its prey, the eyes would rotate forward so that it could see what it was trying to catch. What looked like eyes, just above its small mouth, were actually olfactory organs. Seaview had been lucky in that they’d been able to catch one of the small fish, this one about five inches long. Nelson had been able to keep it in one of his lab aquariums and study it for several hours before it eventually died, not able to sustain life without the pressures it was used to in its normal habitat, 2000 to 3000 feet deep. While not liking that the fish could not survive, Nelson had been ecstatic that he’d managed even those few hours of close observation. He had been pondering his next move – try to study them more in the open ocean using FS1, which is how they were able to capture this one using a collection unit attached to one of the Flying Sub’s arms – or go on to another of several projects that he always had in progress at any given time, when they’d received the report from NIMR that the data station had stopped transmitting sometime during the night. The unit transmitted a report at eight-hour intervals, and no one had noticed that it wasn’t working until it missed two reports in a row.

A cross between growl and snort erupted from Nelson as he turned back to the window. “Well, it didn’t just walk away on its own,” was muttered. “In the first place, it was far too heavy.”

“Yes, sir,” Lee agreed, sharing a quick look with Chip. There had been issues loading the unit, about eight feet long, five feet wide, and five feet high, into Seaview’s Missile Room in the first place. And even with the Diving Bell’s specially built, heavy-duty cable they used to pick up the unit and lower it the barely fifteen feet below where Seaview tried to hold steady until divers could secure it in place, there had been a few moments when everyone pretty much held their breath that it didn’t get damaged. Everyone had heaved a huge sigh of relief, especially Lee and Chip who had been supervising the operation, when divers hooked up the cable that had already been put in place, and the unit came to life. Now, all that could be seen was the ragged edges of that same cable, appearing to have been ripped off by ‘something’. “No whale did that kind of damage,” Lee added. “Even if they had managed to bump it while feeding, where is it now?”

“Nowhere within sonar range,” Chip added. “I had Kowalski scan for it while I was waiting for you.”

“Harrumph,” Nelson growled.

“Yes, sir,” Lee said, and earned another glare.

“A construction barge could have lifted it,” Chip took a turn. That’s what they’d considered using to set it but Nelson had insisted that he wanted Seaview to handle it, out of sight from anyone who might be watching.

“Perhaps another sub, maybe attaching a cable to it somehow and dragging it off?” it was Lee’s turn to postulate.

“Who’s?” Nelson’s voice had lost none of its indignation at the, to him, atrocity.

“Russia? China? North Korea? The People’s Republic? Even otherwise ‘friendly’ nations might want to bypass standard negotiations and simply steal the technology. That would explain the shattered cable. Whoever took it didn’t take the time to disconnect it.”

“Harrumph,” was once more growled. This time Lee kept silent.

“It would have taken time for a surface barge to locate it and bring it up,” it was Chip’s turn to take a stab at offering suggestions to an irate Admiral. “I’ll have Sparks start calling around to see if the Coast Guard has reported any activity in the area, or even any Navy vessels out of San Diego.” He headed for the Radio Shack on the portside aft section of the Conn.

“In the meantime I’ll send out a work party to clean up and cap the cable,” Lee told his boss. “No sense allowing the corrosion that’s certainly happening, with the ragged end in that condition, to cause any pollution problems or corrode any more of the remaining cable.” That got a grunt and a nod, and Lee headed to the Missile Room after a quick call to have COB Sharkey and Seaview’s MAA, Chief Hauck, meet him there. Hauck, along with Lee and a couple of Security personnel, also went out on the dive. They used the time to scout the area looking for any clues as to who, or what, made off with the data station. They didn’t find any drag marks, nor were they expecting any as currents in the area would quickly wipe them off the ocean floor. That’s a good part of why they had so much trouble putting it there in the first place. But also why Nelson wanted it there, because the currents kept the unit reading ‘new’ water, not merely the same calmer water over and over. Still, they did keep their eyes peeled for any sign of disturbance or debris that could give them a lead as to what happened. Chief Hauck, once everyone was back in, suggested sending out another team to follow the cable back toward the coast as perhaps the cable had been found and followed out to the unit. Lee thought that unlikely as, except for the last dozen yards or so, the cable had been carefully buried underground. But at this point they needed to check every conceivable idea so he authorized the dive.

He reported both teams’ lack of success as everyone met for dinner. Even this close to home, Nelson had ordered Seaview to stay in the area until further notice. “Did Sparks come up with any intel?” Lee asked Chip. Between the dive, and bouncing half a dozen other ideas off Chief’s Sharkey and Hauck, he hadn’t made it back to the Conn before it was time to head for the Wardroom.

“Not so far,” the blond told him as well as Nelson. “He’s got Dewey,” he referenced NIMR’s Head of Security, Dewey Caudill, “checking out a few tips.”

Lee nodded. “If there’s even a hint of anything going on Dewey, or one of his ‘friends’, will sniff it out.” It was an ongoing comment around NIMR that Dewey had friends everywhere. They had come in handy on multiple occasions.*

“Slim pickings tonight,” Cookie told Seaview’s ruling triumvirate apologetically from the passageway into the galley. “Was sort of planning on being back in port so I didn’t have much defrosted.”

Nelson had apparently started to calm down. “Looks just fine,” the OOM told him, glancing across the available items. Oven-baked steak fries sat next to thick slices of turkey and ham, probably set aside from previous meals as sandwich fixings but now heated through. Canned peas and carrots in a light butter sauce accompanied them along with a simple tossed salad, and cookies for dessert. “I think we’ll head for port in the morning. I don’t see any need to hang around here any longer unless something changes.”

Cookie nodded. “I’ll start the pancake batter before I crash this evening,” and he headed back into his domain. The others shared a quick grin and dished up their meal.

They spent the next half hour both eating and tossing out ideas for what had happened to the data station. Lee felt that the shredded end of the cable indicated an accident of some sort. Nelson countered that with the thought that someone had tried to make it look like an accident; that they’d cut the cable a bit back from the connection and then shredded the end they left. Lee had to agree that that was also a completely plausible action. But he couldn’t quite understand why anyone would go to that much trouble for a piece of machinery designed wholly for monitoring ocean characteristics.

“Maybe they didn’t know that,” Chip offered. “Maybe someone thought that it was some new device for monitoring ship movements, especially submarines. We all know that we occasionally get non-friendly subs all along America’s coastlines.”

“They’re going to get a big surprise when they hook it up to a power source,” Nelson told the other two, and all three grinned softly.

“Which means, it’s also probably long gone,” Lee added with a sigh.

Nelson nodded. “Nearly $400,000 down the tubes. Not to mention all the man-hours designing and building it.”

“Seriously doubt Angie could claim it as an insurance loss,” Chip offered, and got an elbow in his ribs for being so glib. Nelson, however, chuckled slightly and Chip sent Lee a quick wink.

“Now what have they done?” Seaview’s CMO muttered as he just then walked in the door.

“Reminding me not to be such a grouch,” Nelson answered before he looked up. When he caught the fact that both Lee and Chip were staring at the doctor he finally turned. “Will, are you okay?”

“Jamie?” Lee added, when Will didn’t immediately answer.

Dr. Will Jamison waggled a hand briefly, glanced at the available food items, and merely grabbed a cup of coffee before sitting down next to the Admiral. “Got a headache this afternoon,” he finally answered, then noticed Cookie looking at him from the pass-through into the Galley. “Not really hungry tonight,” he told the occasionally temperamental but very conscientious chef – especially when it came to his officers.

“No, no, Jamie,” Chip jumped in. “You can’t use that excuse for not eating. Strictly Lee’s prerogative,” for which he got another elbow in his ribs, albeit with lowered eyes pointed Will’s direction.

“Beef barley soup in the freezer,” Cookie offered, making all four officers grin. Cookie kept it on hand after discovering early on that it was one of the few things an under-the-weather Skipper would agree to eat.”**

Will’s expression, however, faded quickly. “Don’t bother. I think I heard that we’ll be home tomorrow morning?” He looked at Nelson.

“Harrumph,” Nelson muttered, but it was fairly soft. “There seems to be no reason to stay here. I was just about to order Seaview spend the night doing a gradually expanding spiral search when you walked in.”

“I’ll plot it as soon as I get back to the Conn, sir.” Chip told him, and started eating a little faster.

“You’ll plot it?” Lee challenged. “You usually make Chris do it.”

“I left Sparks with the watch. You grabbing Chief Hauck for the dive postponed a meeting he and Chris had arranged.” His expression turned a bit snide. “You really should keep better track of your boat, Commander.”

As Lee drew himself up and started to open his mouth to blast his insolent XO, Nelson’s firm “Gentlemen!” had both younger men giving him, and each other, a quick grin.

It even made Will chuckle, but ever so briefly. “Jamie,” Lee told him, “you really do look like crap.”

“Good,” Will told him with a small glare, before it softened into a frown. “At least it matches how I feel.” That got nods from Lee and Nelson, and a quick snicker from Chip.

“Frank still on duty?” Lee asked very carefully. Will’s head corpsman usually took the day shift, when most of the activity aboard the sub was taking place. Not that John, the other one, was in any way a slouch!

Will was just about to slam his Skipper – and very worst patient – with any number of insults, but he caught the expectant looks sent his way from both Chip and Nelson and surrendered. Leaving his coffee only half-finished, he got up and stalked grudgingly out of the Wardroom.

“Harrumph,” Nelson once more muttered, but very softly.

“I’ll check, but a bit later,” Lee told him.

“Coward,” Chip mumbled around a bite of food, and returned one of the elbows.

“Yes, sir,” Lee agreed with a slightly bashful look. It deepened when Nelson chuckled.

It was nearly two hours before Lee checked, poking his head carefully through Jamie’s office door as his first stop on his evening amble through the boat. He’d stayed in the Conn with Chip until Lt. O’Brien showed up to take over shortly before 2000 hours and had the spiral course Chip had plotted explained to him. Then Chip headed to his cabin to work on his reports and Lee headed for what was his usual evening ‘walkaboat’. John was sitting in Will’s chair behind the desk and immediately started to rise. Sick Bay was never one of the Skipper’s routine stops unless a crewman was incarcerated there. But Lee waved him back down with a quick flick of his hand and a sheepish grin. “Was just checking on how Jamie’s feeling,” he told the medic.

“Lousy, sir,” John told him. “Frank and I both think that he’s coming down with something – maybe the flu. He won’t admit it, of course. But we did get him to head for his cabin earlier than usual.”

Lee nodded. While the doctor was harder to slow down than even Lee, and that was saying a lot, Will would never admit it. But if he was getting the flu, he’d at least try to not give it to anyone else if he could help it. Lee nodded again and continued his check to make sure his ‘Gray Lady’ was set for the night.

* * * *

A call came in from Dewey just as Lee, Chip, and Nelson were about to sit down for the promised breakfast pancakes and Lee had it piped down to the Wardroom, putting it on speaker so that the other two could hear it as well. “Not a lot of verifiable intel,” Dewey started, “but there seems to be a bit of chatter about ‘something’ coming into the marina yesterday all covered up. But not on a construction barge; it was on the rear deck of an old fishing trawler. However, there’s also a bit of chatter about a construction barge being nearby, but headed from San Diego to San Francisco.”

“Is the trawler still in the marina?” Lee asked.

“Unclear,” Dewey told him apologetically. “Some reports have it coming in, others say that it started to, but rather abruptly turned north. I wasn’t able to reach Mr. Baxtrum,” he referenced the Harbormaster at Santa Barbara’s main marina, “last night. Wanted to update you before I left the office for a bit of legwork.” All three officers smiled. Dewey was nothing if not diligent.

“Understood,” Lee answered. “We’re just finishing a thorough search of the area, then we’ll come into port. Should be home in about two hours.”

“Hope to have more for you by then,” and they broke the connection.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Lee grumbled as he sat back down. “But that might mean that it’s something local as opposed to a foreign power.”

“Saw us place it and it took this long to figure out how to steal it?” Chip asked.

“But that was the whole point of using Seaview,” Nelson told him. “I know that it was a pain but it kept anyone from seeing us, and it.”

“True,” Chip agreed.

“Or somebody with a big mouth mentioned it to someone he – or she – shouldn’t have,” Lee offered.

“While we weren’t overly specific,” Nelson admitted, “we didn’t really keep the project a secret.”

“But,” Lee told him, “if it was someone from NIMR they would have known that it was merely for scientific research.”

“Unless,” Chip pointed his fork somewhat in Lee’s direction, “someone thought that was a cover story. We still do a fair amount of work for the Navy.”

“Humm,” came from both Lee and Nelson, and the rest of the meal was eaten in silence as each pondered the multitude of possibilities.

Dewey met them at the dock when they got home just after 1000 hours. Lee saw him out the front windows as Chip settled Seaview against her upper berth and he, Chip, and Nelson all gathered around the table in the Nose after closing the crash doors, leaving Chris James to do the usual routines. Except, this time no Leave was granted; all crewmen were told to hang close to their phones until further notice, just in case. That included the two corpsmen, who first escorted a grumpy but obviously sick CMO to Med Bay before they came back to do a thorough inventory of supplies, and restock Sick Bay. Actually, there wasn’t much needed as it had been a quiet cruise. But neither was willing to irritate Will more than he already was, and made very sure that everything they were responsible for was ship-shape! Both Lee and Chip had grinned when Frank reported their plans just before Seaview docked. Lee did raise an eyebrow, and Frank easily understood the question. “No better, Skipper, but no worse, either. Mrs. Jamison has already been advised.”

“In that case, Jamie doesn’t stand a chance,” Chip said, making notes on one of the clipboards. All three grinned and Frank headed aft, back to Sick Bay.

“Some news,” Dewey started as everyone took a seat at the table. “Mr. Baxtrum confirmed that the trawler did radio for permission to dock but almost immediately canceled the request. He’s going to check with the owners of some of the boats moored furthest out, to see if anyone noticed anything more specific.” The others nodded. “And a buddy in San Francisco is checking to see if he can locate the barge.” The others smiled softly as, once more, Dewey utilized his legion of friends. “It probably hasn’t made it that far yet,” he added. “They don’t travel that fast. But Lane will keep his nose on the trail.” That got more nods.

“Any of your crew have even a hint of someone at NIMR passing on intel about the project?” Lee asked. Normally he wouldn’t have given that thought the light of day, but they were all too familiar with a recent incident aided and abetted by two members of NIMR’s staff.”***

“First thing I mentioned when I alerted everyone to the problem,” Dewey assured him. “Nothing so far.”

“Good,” from Chip didn’t quite cover Nelson’s growl of discontent and remembrance.

“Yes, sirs,” Dewey acknowledged both.

“Anybody checking San Diego for the barge’s origin?” Lee asked.

Dewey hesitated with a slight cringe. “Working on it,” he answered. “But my main contact is down with the flu so I’m scrambling a bit to find a reliable – and discrete – replacement.”

“What is it suddenly with the flu?” Chip grumbled. At Dewey’s upraised eyebrow he qualified. “Doc.”

“Oh, oh,” Dewey said softly, and got answering nods from the others.

“Guess that’s all we can do right now,” Nelson told the group. “Dewey, stop by my office in an hour or so. I might can give you a few names to check with for intel from the San Diego area.”

“Yes, sir,” Dewey acknowledged as both Lee and Chip grinned softly. NIMR’s Security Head wasn’t the only one with friends in interesting places.

* * * *

Not much happened the rest of the day. Both Lee and Chip spent most of the time unburying their desks. Even though Seaview had only been out just over a week, files and folders seemed to breed like rabbits. While most needed nothing more than initials to indicate that they’d been seen, neither man dared not read every one in case something came up later that they should have known about. Dewey did report that Baxtrum had gotten back to him; he had a little better description of the trawler but it didn’t help much. No one Baxtrum had talked to could remember the name, usually very visibly written on the stern panel. Without that there was little Dewey’s friend could do about finding it; there were just too many places where it could have pulled in.

Just after 1800 hours Chip tapped on Lee’s open office door, catching his friend with his chair turned toward the window, staring out. “Know the feeling,” he said as Lee glanced his way. “Hard to concentrate. Finally realized that I had no idea what the last report I read was about.”

“Unfortunately, I resemble that remark,” Lee admitted.

“What say we hit BZ’s for a bite and a beer.” He sent Lee a quirky grin. “It will either stimulate our brains…”

“Or totally fry them,” Lee grumbled.

“Right now, I think the latter might be the better option. Let us get a fresh start in the morning.”

Lee nodded. “Good point.” Closing a couple folders, he stacked them in the center of his desk, stood, grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, and followed Chip toward the front door of NIMR’s Admin. Building. Nelson was just leaving his own office, looking like he was in the mood to eat nails, but he managed half a smile when he saw them. Lee invited him to join them, not really expecting an affirmative. When Nelson actually agreed both Lee and Chip quickly buried their surprise.

They had just finished what was Lee and Chip’s favorite pizza, double meat pepperoni, sausage, and green pepper, supplemented by a few french fries off of Nelson’s roast beef sandwich plate that he didn’t want, and had split the last of the pitcher of beer between their three glasses when Nelson’s cell phone went off. He frowned, but scrambled to get it to his ear when he glanced at the screen. “Dewey,” he said simply, and instantly had Lee and Chip’s full attention. He almost smiled as he concentrated on what his Head of Security was telling him, realizing just how badly Lee was having to struggle not to grab the phone out of Nelson’s hand; being in a public place meant that he couldn’t put the phone on speaker. Knowing Lee’s impatience, he was quick to share once the call ended. “Dewey sent a couple men on a road trip, headed north, checking every place there was a dock where the trawler might have stopped. Well, the barge as well, but he was concentrating on what we think had the data station aboard.”

“They found it.” Lee couldn’t restrain himself. Chip was just as tense, but remained silent.

“Actually, they lost it.” Something came out of Lee’s mouth that the other two chose to ignore. “They collected reports of occasional sightings until they hit Arguello. Going all the way up to the Vandenburg Air Force Base there were no more reports so they backtracked. Along the coastline south of the Base there’s a section of cliffs, and someone told them that there were caves along that stretch. Mostly small ones, but they were led to believe that at least a couple were fairly large.”

“Big enough for the barge?” Lee asked.

“Unclear.”

“Tuck the trawler in a cave until the heat is off, and bring in something else to take the data station…wherever,” Chip offered.

“I don’t remember anything like that on the charts of the area,” Lee said, but then shrugged. “Not that I remember there isn’t,” he admitted.

“Mostly,” Chip added, “we tend to stay away from the area around the Base.” Both Lee and Nelson nodded.

“Alert Sparks to start a call-up…” Lee started, then looked at Nelson. His boss merely sent him a quick smile and a nod. “Tide is…” He looked at Chip.

“0115 high tide,” Chip told him instantly. Nelson’s grin broadened.

“We sail no later than 0200 hours,” Lee finished, got nods back, and all three headed out, the last of their beer forgotten.

* * * *

They almost made it. A few last minute glitches had Chip telling Chief Sharkey to keep watch on Lee – in Lee’s hearing – and have a repair crew standing by to fix any dents Lee’s fist might make in Seaview’s bulkheads. Lee glared, Chip shrugged, Sharkey unsuccessfully buried a snicker, but the comment had Chip’s desired effect and Lee tried a little harder to manage his case of nerves.

Traveling at Full speed, they slowed to Dead Slow as they reached the area in question just after 0830. Seaview came to periscope depth and Lee kept his eyes glued to the periscope, scanning the coastline as Chip kept the giant submarine as close to the coastline as he dared, not easy in the rocky shoals they discovered in the area. While Lee missed it, never taking his eyes away from the eyepiece, Chip noticed Nelson keeping an eye out Seaview’s front windows and suspected that the OOM was already planning a return visit to the area during more quiet times.

They traveled all the way to the south end of Vandenburg without finding anything so turned and headed back south, still traveling at Dead Slow. Nelson took a turn at scanning the shoreline but Lee was again at the periscope when he suddenly stiffened. “All stop!” he ordered

“Hold trim,” Chip added, somewhat unnecessarily, and he caught a quick grin cross Helmsman Leyton’s face.

“Lee?” Nelson demanded, walking back from the Nose.

“Can’t quite make it out,” Lee told him, finally stepping away and letting Nelson look. “There’s ‘something’ in the back of that large opening on the left. At least,” he qualified as Nelson stepped up, “I think I see something that’s not rock.”

It took Nelson a long minute. “Could just be driftwood that’s piled up over the years,” he admitted. “But it needs to be checked out.”

“Not in daylight.” Lee glanced at his watch; it was just after 1430 hours. None of the officers had even given lunch a thought, although they had managed a decent breakfast on the cruise up.

“Kowalski, Riley,” Lee called out, “you getting anything?” Senior Rating Kowalski was Seaview’s best Sonarman, and Seaman Riley her second-best Hydrophone operator.

“Nothing but waves, sir,” Riley answered.

“Too many rocks, sir,” was ‘Ski’s apologetic response.

“Keep heading south?” Lee asked Nelson. “We can keep long-range scans in this area while we backtrack and double-check what we might have missed earlier. This close, they can’t move without us knowing.”

“Not to mention,” Nelson agreed, “that they, if it is them, probably won’t move until after dark, either.”

“Yes, sir.” Lee ordered Seaview once more forward. But finding nothing, they returned to the previous spot just as the sun was setting.

The three strategized over a dinner of braised beef chunks in gravy, poured over noodles. Apparently, Cookie had used the few hours in port to quickly restock the Galley. They left O’Brien with the Watch and included Lt. Chris James, Seaview’s Weapons Officer, as well as MAA Chief Hauck and COB Sharkey. Nelson had come up with a more detailed chart of that specific area – no one asked where, but Lee and Chip knew that he often had charts in his office that weren’t in the files in the Conn. And, he’d had time to grab more after they got the call from Dewey. But even they weren’t all that helpful.

Lee proposed a scouting mission after dark using FS1. “No periscope,” Chip pointed out the obvious. “And she doesn’t exactly blend in,” he added, referring to her bright yellow color.

“And if she’s spotted,” Nelson added, “the people who took the data station will know that we’re on to them.”

“Suggestions?” Lee asked, acknowledging the problems with his plan.

“Maybe,” Chief Hauck offered, “we don’t come by sea.”

“Huh?” Sharkey didn’t quite get cut off, and ended up the subject of several smiles.

Hauck quickly continued; he’d just as soon not get on the COB’s bad side, even if it wasn’t technically his fault. “From the maps, there’s at least a primary road that runs along close to the top of the cliffs. If we drop a team off up there they’d have a better chance of staying undetected and searching for access down to the cave while Seaview stays here and guards the entrance.”

Nelson glanced around the group. “Objections?”

“Not an objection, sir, but how do we reach that road?” Lee asked. “It would take too long to drive up from Santa Barbara.”

“There must be somewhere to rent a car at Arguello,” Chip offered. “FS1 to there shouldn’t raise any red flags.” He shrugged. “Well,” he amended, “not too many anyway.”

“We land, tell whoever we run into that FS1 had to land; mechanical problems. We leave one man there, and rent a car to get the rest of us home. Except, once out of town headed south, we switch and head north.”

“Weapons?” Chris asked. He was a bit intimidated by being included in this meeting. Even though he was Weapons Officer he still mostly followed orders. Although, he was slowly getting better about making suggestions to Chief Hauck.

“Oh,” Nelson sent him a smile, “I rather suspect that we can scrounge a few backpacks that will have something in them other than clothes.” Both Chris and Hauck nodded.

“You keep saying ‘we’, sir,” Lee spoke carefully. It still earned him a glare from Nelson.

“They stole my data collector,” was all that came out of Nelson’s mouth but he got instant nods back, Lee’s with an almost shy look.

* * * *

The plan didn’t work too badly. Everyone stayed in uniform so that no one questioned their cover story. The biggest discussion was over who was going. Nelson, Lee – because very few missions were allowed to go without him, Chief Sharkey, to stay with FS1 – he wasn’t overly happy with that arrangement but at least he wasn’t left aboard Seaview. Chief Hauck volunteered himself and Jackson, one of his best men. And Chip volunteered Seamen Kowalski and Patterson, two of Seaview’s strongest fighters. Lee had no issues with either, but Chip got a glare when the blond stated his biggest reason: Kowalski had medic training and could take a proper EMK, an emergency medical kit. Neither of Seaview’s two corpsmen, other than having diving skills, were military-trained. Lee’s glare softened as Nelson chuckled softly and sent his XO a nod, and everyone scattered to get what they needed.

Once on the ground at Arguello, Hauck and Kowalski were sent to arrange for a vehicle; one large enough to hold the six men comfortably, and they got lucky with a 9-passenger van. Sharkey petitioned to go along since there would be room for him, but Nelson was adamant that someone be left with FS1 who could fly her in case she was quickly needed. While that would screw up the cover story that she was malfunctioning, by that time no one really cared what the locals would think.

As men and backpacks were transferred to the van, Lee sent the COB a glance. “Might be a good idea if you hang close to the radio, Chief.” He sighed heavily, but mostly for effect because he wanted the COB to pay attention. He knew that the loquacious man could all too easily get sidetracked by curious locals. “We don’t know what we’re walking into and we might need you rather quickly.”

“Yes, sir,” Sharkey answered. “Think I’ll close the crash shield so no one can look inside, and make sure all the hatches are locked.”

“Sounds perfect,” Lee agreed. “Sorry that you’ll be a bit bored, but you were the best person to leave since you’re so familiar with her.” He reached out and gave FS1’s side a soft pat.

“Brought a couple magazines I haven’t gotten around to reading yet, Skipper,” was said a bit bashfully, but Sharkey had puffed up at Lee’s praise.

“Good man.” Lee gave Sharkey’s shoulder a quick pat and headed for the van. He didn’t turn around, but figured that the COB had puffed up again when he noticed Nelson have to quickly bury a grin. His own shoulder received a soft backhand as he slid in next to the Admiral.

“I sometimes forget to tell you, Lee,” Nelson said softly, “what a fine job you do managing your crew.” He barely got it out without laughing out loud. Lee merely nodded with a sheepish grin. Sharkey was a good man, and a great COB. He just had his own ways of doing things that occasionally drove those around him up the proverbial wall!

The drive to where they needed to be took about an hour, what with having to backtrack. Lee drove and Nelson navigated. Hauck and Kowalski sat in the second row of seats with Patterson and Jackson in the third. Four backpacks loaded with an assortment of weapons, and one with everything from the EMK, were tucked just inside the rear doors. Nelson carried a small tracking unit so that Sparks could follow their progress and guide them to just above the suspect cave.

Then things got a little more complicated. There was absolutely no way down, without rappelling, near where they wanted to descend. Now nearly 0100 hours and fully dark they relied on Chip, having spent the last hours of daylight scanning the cliff face, to point them to a trail about half a mile further north that he thought would take them down to the water’s edge. He also reported seeing possible movement at the far back of the cave but was unable to identify who – or what – had caused it. So far, the waters around the area were remaining quiet but Riley and Rawn were keeping a very close eye and ear to Seaview’s instrumentation.

The trail proved challenging, especially in the dark, but everyone made it down with a minimum of noise. While the tide was ebbing there still wasn’t easy access to approach the target cave, but they were able to get to a smaller one that Sparks told them should only be about thirty yards from the one they wanted. They waited there, making as little noise as possible and speaking only in whispers, until the tide was down enough to make the journey across some very wet and slippery rocks. By then it was starting to get light; not ideal but there simply hadn’t been a choice. Everyone strapped on sidearms and Hauck, Jackson, Patterson, and Kowalski carried small rifle-like weapons that fired tranquilizer darts. All of the backpacks, including Kowalski’s first aid pack, were left in the small cave.

Seaview still reported no other craft in the water and, now that it was getting light, Chip could also report no one seemed to be up above on the cliff, either, so at 0600 the men started inching their way carefully toward the cave. The tide had receded enough that in spots there was a bit of sandy, although mostly rocky, beach. But the closer they got to the cave, that turned into more rocks and less sand. Lee insisted that Hauck and Jackson go first, then he and Nelson, with Patterson and Kowalski bringing up the rear. They didn’t all move at the same time; the two in front would go first over a section, and then carefully watch and listen while the other four moved up so that no sounds they made could possibly cover ones from inside the cave. The six were extremely exposed as they made their way across the gap.

There was mostly silence from within the cave when all six men had made it safely to the edge of the entrance. Every so often they could detect a small sound, almost like a snore. “All this work for a sea lion?” Kowalski muttered darkly. Lee didn’t quite get a grin buried but Nelson’s glare made it instantly disappear.

“That’s no sea lion,” the OOM all but growled while still whispering. “If it was, Chip would have reported seeing them go in and out during the time he’s been monitoring the area.”

“Yes, sir,” ‘Ski told him, thoroughly chastised. Lee sent him a nod and got one in return.

Ever so slowly, first Hauck and then Jackson crept forward. Lee almost expected Nelson to push past, now that they were this close. But Nelson held his place – barely, apparently, from his expression – until both men had disappeared from view into the cave opening before the others started forward. They hadn’t quite made it around the last rocks when there was a shout, and the sound of one of the dart rifles going off. Everyone instantly scrambled to get inside. There, they could only stop and stare. The trawler was now in view, tucked as far back into the cave as possible, something large on the aft deck heavily tarped. Also on the deck were two men laying on top of sleeping bags. One was a bit sprawled, probably because of the dart sticking out of his left shoulder. The other one had apparently slept through the bit of commotion as he was quietly snoring away. Although, as the men looked further, an empty vodka bottle lying next to him might have had something to do with it.

Nelson was outraged. “A couple of bums stole my data station?” he started yelling. Lee saw both Hauck and Jackson have to turn their backs, unable to bury grins that fast. Patterson and Kowalski, more used to Nelson’s outbursts in the Conn on occasion, did a better job of controlling their expressions.

“So it would seem, sir,” Lee managed to get out fairly normally. He figured that his boss still heard something of the humor Lee was trying to control as Nelson sent him a nasty glare. But then all six got busy searching the boat, as well as the rest of the cave, for any bits of intel they could come up with.

Lee and Kowalski started on the two men, searching for I.D. and then tying them up. Patterson came up with a roll of duct tape and Lee put a piece of it across the darted man’s mouth after using more of it to bind his arms and legs. The still sleeping man was also bound, but ‘Ski wouldn’t let Lee use tape on his mouth. He made sure that the man was laid on his side, braced so that he couldn’t roll just in case that, if and when he did wake up, he vomited from the excess alcohol. Not that ‘Ski particularly cared but he did know that his CO didn’t like to waste a life unnecessarily. Lee sent him a quick nod before continuing to search.

They discovered that the boat belonged to the darted man. Once he woke up from the dart they tried questioning him but he wouldn’t say a word. Something had him more scared than he was of them, and Lee finally left him alone. The Coast Guard was notified after Chip still reported no other vessels in the area. Apparently, the trawler was to stay put until further orders. Once Admiral Nelson explained what had happened, the Coast Guard took possession of the two men, and further reports went out to try and locate the barge. The CGIS Special Agent that Nelson spoke to needed some convincing that the data collector wasn’t newly designed spy equipment, but grudgingly admitted that could be the reason someone had stolen it and hired these two apparent bozos to hide it until given further instructions. Two Coast Guard sailors were assigned to pilot the trawler back to NIMR, and Nelson assigned Hauck and Patterson to accompany them. Normally NIMR got along quite well with CG personnel; today, Nelson wasn’t in a particularly amiable mood so everyone made the best of it that they could.

Sharkey was called to bring FS1 down to pick up the remaining four men, but Lee reminded Nelson that there were packs at the other cave. He and Kowalski headed back across the rocks while Nelson and Jackson gathered up all the armaments and headed back to Seaview. Sharkey would make a second trip for them once Nelson could get back to better communications with Seaview’s equipment as opposed to using the walkie-talkies they’d brought with them, or having messages transferred through the Coast Guard cutter’s radio. He’d also, on the return trip, drop someone off where they’d left the van, so that it could be returned, and pick that person up later. Lee made a quick, slightly irreverent comment to ‘Ski about being glad that his return to Seaview was going to be slightly delayed, and hoped that Chip had some decent earplugs; that things were no doubt going to get loud!

“Maybe he’ll go to his cabin first,” the senior rating, comfortable around his CO and especially as they were now alone, quipped back.

Lee grinned. “One can hope,” and the pair started across the rocks back to the smaller cave.

They were making fairly good progress as the tide was now fully out but there were still a couple bad spots. They’d just hit one of the last when they both turned at the sound of the trawler’s engines turning over and watched as the boat was eased out of the cave, made a bit more difficult at low tide than it would have been at high. Kowalski questioned about that; why they hadn’t waited a little longer. Lee was just starting to remind the seaman that right this moment nobody wanted to tick off Nelson more than he already was by unnecessary delays when his foot slipped off a rock and he tumbled headlong into the rest of the ones piled around.

“Skipper!” Kowalski shouted, totally drowned out by the trawler’s large diesel engines. He got to his CO as quickly as he could; he had to be careful that he didn’t fall as well. Lee was breathing but wasn’t conscious. Ski didn’t want to move him but where Lee had fallen between several boulders, the tide was bringing water dangerously close to his face. In fact, before ‘Ski could reach him most of Lee’s head ended up under water and ‘Ski scrambled faster, reaching him before the next wave did.

Kowalski quickly looked for blood, or limbs laying in an unnatural position, and heaved a large sigh of relief when he found neither. He had a feeling that Lee had inhaled at least a little water before ‘Ski could get to him because Lee’s breathing wasn’t perfectly steady. ‘Ski’s immediate need was to get to the radio he knew was still in one of the packs but he was reluctant to leave Lee laying where he was. Quickly he ran hands lightly over as many body parts as he could. Except for a rapidly expanding lump on the left side of Lee’s head, everything seemed to be where it was supposed to be. Sending a quick prayer skyward he manhandled Lee into a position where he could get him into a fireman’s carry, and ever so cautiously managed the dozen or so feet needed to get them both safely to the smaller cave. There he propped his still unconscious CO against some rocks, wanting him to be at least partially sitting up to facilitate his still erratic breathing, and then scrambled for the walkie-talkie. Once his hurried message was relayed, he grabbed the EMK and pulled out the small bottle of oxygen, clamping the mask over Lee’s nose and mouth.

He kept total concentration on Lee, his own breathing settling down as Lee’s steadied as well with the supplemental air, and didn’t look up when he almost instantly heard FS1 approaching. But he wasn’t all that surprised when Nelson was the first person to appear. Lee chose that moment to start to regain consciousness and try to brush away the mask. ‘Ski had to get a bit forceful to keep it in place until he was sure Lee was awake enough to realize what had happened.

Nelson, his patience already strained, demanded a better explanation than ‘Ski’s very short message. Lee finally woke up enough, his breathing now much easier as well, to help. Jackson showed up right behind Nelson and ‘Ski realized that FS1 hadn’t gotten back to Seaview before his call and had been diverted his direction. That meant that the Admiral still had a pretty good head of steam built up and made sure, by concentrating on a still fuzzy Skipper, that he didn’t end up getting scalded in the process.

Thankfully it only took a few more minutes for Lee to feel enough better to seriously start arguing with Kowalski. Nelson started to chuckle at his captain’s all-too-familiar battle over anything to do with his health and Lee sent his boss a quick nod. While it was easily apparent that he was suffering a strong headache, he easily held a chemical cold pack over the lump with one hand as Nelson helped him to stand with the other. Jackson and Kowalski quickly gathered all the backpacks and the four walked over, around the corner north of the cave to where Sharkey had found a fairly easy spot to ground the small craft, and they headed for Seaview.

* * * *

Epilog

Two days later Chip was still teasing Lee about the accident. Nelson was a little surprised that Lee was allowing it as the two younger men entered Nelson’s office for a scheduled meeting. He finally realized, when he sent a puzzled look Lee’s way and Lee winked back, unseen by Chip as he poured coffee for himself and Lee, that while everything was going on Chip had been left – again – to man Seaview. Not really knowing how anything was going until after the fact, and then getting Kowalski’s slightly frantic call, had no doubt stretched Chip’s nerves to the limit. This was simply Lee’s way of letting Chip blow off steam without either getting further upset, and had to hide a quick smile as Chip handed Lee one mug of coffee and settled into the other chair with his own.

“Not sure how much you two have heard about the investigation,” Nelson started.

“Bits and pieces only,” Lee confirmed. He’d been instantly checked out by the two corpsmen when he got back to Seaview. But without Jamie as back-up, the doctor still fighting the flu bug, no one had guts enough to tackle him about resting. He was still fighting a headache and Nelson realized that that was probably why Chip was keeping close track of his CO and best friend.

“That’s about all there is, really,” Nelson admitted. “The trawler captain and his buddy have been charged with Grand Theft but they claim that they were merely hired to transport ‘a piece of equipment’, nothing more. The construction barge owner was tracked down at a marina in Santa Cruz. He claims that he was paid to go to a certain coordinate and retrieve a piece of equipment that had fallen overboard from another barge. Neither man seems to know who hired them; all communications were handled by phone, and cash deposits into their bank accounts. The police are tempted to believe them.”

“Wasn’t the barge owner curious about having to work at night?” Lee asked.

“Or why the unit was attached to a cable,” Chip challenged. “His divers have to have seen it when they attached their cables to lift it.”

Nelson shrugged. “Enough money makes some people blind,” was his simple explanation, and the other two nodded.

“Was the unit damaged?” was Lee’s next question.

“A few connections loosened when the cable broke as they lifted it,” Nelson told him. “Nothing the techs can’t easily fix.” He sighed. “Then, gentlemen, we get to put it back.”

“Any way we can camouflage it this time?” Chip asked. “Maybe throw some seaweed over it?”

Nelson chuckled. “Actually, that has already been suggested,” he told them, and the three left that topic for another time to concentrate on more pressing matters.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

* See “A Turtle’s Tale” and “Missing” (among others) by R. L. Keller

** See “Cobwebs” by R. L. Keller

*** See “Missing” by R. L. Keller