This story is based upon the first season episode Long Live the King.  It was never one of my favorite episodes, I mean, why have some mysterious mythical-type man teaching a young boy how to be a king when you could have a real man do it?  I've taken the liberty of making the prince a little older, and placing this story in a Season 2 time line.  

 

Legacy

 

by Lynn

 

 

Captain Lee Crane expertly handled the dual control sticks as FS1 dropped into the depths leaving behind her berth in Seaview's forward hanger.  He took a quick sideways glance at his passenger sitting in the co-pilot chair; the beauty and wonder of the ocean definitely not missed by the young prince.  This last week had been challenging to say the least.  Prince Ang and his entourage were definitely high maintenance, but their presence on the boat hadn't been disruptive, only slightly agitating.  The Prince had kept Cookie busy with special requests from the galley.  That, coupled with lots of boat tours had kept the crew on their toes as some areas were restricted, even to young king-to-be's.

 

The reason for Prince Ang's visit was two-fold: the pretense was to enable Prince Ang to observe the military command style of a foreign navy, but it was really a favor for an old friend that brought the young prince aboard.   Admiral Nelson and King Ang I were friends, brought together in their younger years by war and a just cause.  Judging from the Admiral's stories of the former King, he was gentle and kind, but a formidable man whose loss was felt by the many lives he had touched. 

 

The Prince however, carried himself in a very unapproachable way that screamed years of privilege and indulgence.  Still, the young prince was going to be crowned king of his country and protocol demanded certain decorum and respect.  Lee was proud of how Seaview's crew had handled themselves when ordered around by the almost fifteen year old prince. 

 

But the most important reason for the Prince's visit at this particular time was for protection.  The same faction that murdered the young prince's father King Ang the First three years ago was still at large, albeit operating in a much smaller capacity.  It was expected that with the assassination of the King the government would fold since by law the Prince could not be crowned until his fifteenth birthday.  However, the government held strong and the country survived the ordeal as the protocols of dealing with the monarchy had been established generations ago.

 

Colonel Metzger, the young prince's always present mentor and bodyguard, feared that the Opposition would seek to assassinate the Prince in an effort to overthrow the monarchy and establish their dictator of choice.  The stakes were high, the oil rich fields of the land were working to support their country for the good of the people.  America had been a benefactor of much of those oil sales, and although the small country operated under a monarchy, the people of the land had prospered.  Not so, if the Opposition had its way.

 

Funded by an unnamed communist country, the Opposition sought to rule with an iron hand with the sale of the oil benefiting the very elite.  The CIA had long since identified the “unnamed communist country” as the People's Republic and the shift of the country's oil from America to the Republic would be damaging to say the least.  The fate of three nations seemed to weigh on the shoulders of the young prince.

 

“Seaview to FS1.  You have cleared the bay doors.”

 

Lee acknowledged while silently considering that his ever efficient Exec, Lt. Commander “Chip” Morton was always on top of things.

 

“Very well Seaview.  Proceeding on with the flight plan as logged, ETA 1000 hours.”

 

“Aye Skipper.  We'll inform Admiral Nelson on your progress.  Seaview out.”

 

“FS1 out.”  Lee replied, making the necessary course adjustments as the yellow manta like vessel glided through the sea.

 

Lee glanced over at Prince Ang, although tall for his age his shoulders had not yet filled out resulting in Lee's spare flight jacket hanging loosely on his young shoulders.  Riley had brought a visitor's flight jacket and the Prince had held it with a look of what... disappointment?  No tirade accompanied the disappointed look, definitely a change from earlier this week, Lee thought to himself.  He knew Chip thought he was indulging when he instructed Riley to fetch his spare flight jacket.  But watching the Prince's approval as he donned the flight jacket with its golden commander's bars adorning the epaulets told Lee he had done the right thing.  The prince was, after all, the next king and commander and chief of his country, he could afford to cut him some slack for diplomatic reasons. 

 

Truth be told, diplomacy wasn't the reason.  Lee had spent some time with the Prince as junior officers were less than appreciated during the royal tours, and had found Ang to be a study in character;  definitely moody and demanding, but there was something else there.  Something he thought he recognized in the Prince's eyes.  Something...familiar.  Yeah, he could afford to cut the kid some slack.  Let him have the golden bars on his epaulets, heaven knows he was carrying a lot more than that on his shoulders.

 

“How deep are we now Captain Crane?”  Prince Ang asked searching for the depth gauge.

 

Lee leaned over tapping the appropriate gauge, reading as he spoke.

 

“Were 150 feet below the surface.  We'll be ascending slowly, but we should broach the surface in about fifteen minutes.”  Lee's answer was concise and professional, but laced with a polite smile.  He hadn't indulged in polite conversation with the Prince leaving that mostly to the Admiral, but he had noticed the Prince was very inquisitive in his technical questions and seemed to truly understand the even more difficult answers.

 

“Will we reach Mach 1 in our flight?” 

 

A boy was a boy no matter what his royal pedigree, and breaking the sound barrier was definitely something to be anticipated.  Heck, Lee thought, Even I like hitting Mach 1, smiling at the fact that big boys liked speed as much as the younger ones.

 

“Our flight plan was designed to give us a little more time in the air.  We'll hit Mach 1 over the ocean and fly along the coast then we'll swing back over the open seas and approach the capital city from the northern forest.” 

 

The flight plan also conveniently put FS1 on a little used approach to the capital city, hopefully making the Prince's arrival as secret as possible.

 

“Here we go, approaching Mach 1,” Lee continued, handling the sticks and flying with the ease of an expert pilot. 

 

“It's not much different from going Mach 1 in a fighter jet,” the Prince observed having obviously had the experience from his own air force.

 

It was true, half the fun of breaking the sound barrier was the “boom”, which wasn't even audible from inside the craft.  The rest of the fun was the satisfaction of watching the gauge go from Mach .9 to Mach 1.  Still, speed was speed and anyone could appreciate that!  Lee nodded his understanding and continued his flight tour.

 

“We'll be circling back over the ocean now.” 

 

Lee was enjoying the flight along the coast and circled back out to the open ocean to approach from the north.  Prince Ang was also clearly enjoying the ride, allowing his pleasure to show through the royal protocol which normally kept him stoic and proper at all times. 

 

“FS1 to Seaview,” Lee said while adjusting his throat mic.

 

“Seaview here, go head Skipper,” Sparks replied his familiar voice heard over the intercom.

 

“We're approaching the coastline, reporting our first check point...Whoa!  Hold on!”

 

Chip was getting ready to pick up the mic to acknowledge Lee's report when he heard Lee's voice go from normal flight calm to a level of palpable concern.  His obvious distress was punctuated by a loud explosion and then nothing.

 

“FS1 report.  Lee!”  Chip waited for a response getting only an earful of static, as the entire Control Room tensely awaited the Skipper’s hail.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee was just finishing up his transmission when he saw a flash from the coastline, seconds later the flash was followed by an explosion.  He recognized the flash as a SAM, immediately executing evasive maneuvers to outrun the rocket.  He pulled up and rolled FS1 hard to starboard as the surface to air missile whizzed by barely missing the Flying Sub. 

 

“Hold on!” Lee yelled to Prince Ang. 

 

Another flash prompted Lee's quick response as he was forced to execute evasive maneuvers a second time; he was completing his roll to the right Lee and still ascending when the Flying Sub was hit.  It wasn't a solid hit, but it was enough to knock both Lee and Prince Ang around violently in their seats.  Tethered  by their harnesses they weathered the attack without injury, but the Flying Sub had not fared as well.  Smoke rose from under the pilot's panel as the telltale smell of burning and charred wires filled the cabin.  Lee surveyed the damage with one quick sweeping motion while trying to keep the craft stable.  He reached up to activate his throat mice; the radio antennae was damaged and he could only hope that the transmission was still getting through.

 

“FS1 to Seaview!” his hail was returned immediately as he heard Chip's voice respond with marked concern.

 

“Lee, what's going on?”

 

“We've been winged by a SAM.  I've got flight control damage and I'm not sure how long I can keep her up.  We're losing altitude fast,” he reported then shifted his attention to his young passenger. 

 

“Prince Ang, I need you to move to the rear seat and secure your harness tight!”

 

Lee's voice was in total command mode, and whatever argument the Prince might have made was swallowed back.  He unbuckled his harness and took three shaky steps to the rear seat tightening his harness as solidly as he could while continuing to watch Captain Crane busily work the controls.

 

“How's our emergency beacon, are you reading us?” Lee inquired, fighting the controls and working to keep the flying sub in the air as long as he could.  She was built for water landings or controlled landings on well-kept runways.  Crashing in the forest was going to be a rough ride; he had ordered the prince into the rear seat seeking to protect the young monarch from the dangers of impacting the console during the crash landing. 

 

“Lee, you're off-line, can you reactivate?” he fumbled the emergency beacon's toggle switch off and on with no response. 

 

“No good Chip, that part of my panel is shorted out.  I'll try and reactivate from the co-pilot's panel.”

 

He leaned over to reach the toggle switch, but even with his long reach he couldn't quite make it.  They were losing altitude and the ground was coming up fast and without the beacon, the search and rescue team would be delayed in reaching them.  Quickly he unlatched his harness and leaned over those elusive inches to toggle the switch on.

 

“We've got you Lee!”  Chip's voice was in control but his concern was clearly evident.

 

Lee pulled back on the sticks with all his might, but the flight controls were barely responding and the physics of dropping out of the sky were proving to be too much.  The top of the trees were in view as he spotted a small clearing pulling the sticks back and willing the flying sub to stay up a little longer.  FS1 cleared the trees as Lee expertly dropped her into the clearing but it wasn't nearly long enough for a landing at their current speed.  Oh well, it would be what it would be.

 

“Hold on!  We're going down hard!” 

 

Lee's words shouted over his shoulder to Prince Ang was the last thing Chip heard over Seaview's intercom before a loud crash and then dreaded silence.

 

* * * * *

 

The noise when the flying sub hit was tremendous with a loud scraping sound that followed the craft's path as it slid uncontrollably across the landscape.  It was an all-encompassing roar as if he were in the middle of a jet engine.  He watched in sheer panic but made no attempt to speak while Captain Crane fought for control of the vessel as they ran out of room, hitting the trees with the force of a run-away locomotive.  The Prince felt the strain of the harness cut across his chest when they hit the forest; a quick pain, a loud noise and then blackness.

 

Prince Ang awoke and slowly raised his head, mentally checking himself for injuries.  He had extensive first aid training, so he was well aware that until the adrenaline wore off he couldn't trust that he wasn't injury free.  So he sat for a few moments allowing the shock of the crash landing to dissipate as he focused forward looking out. 

 

Out at what?  Where were the flying sub windows, the control panel?  And where was Captain Crane!

 

Slowly he released the harness and stood shakily to his feet.  A look up and down his body showed no blood or apparent broken bones, although he was sure he had some dandy bruises across his chest.  A little wet something slid down his forehead as he reached for it finding blood, More than likely by flying debris he reasoned.  He wiped it clean with his handkerchief and since the wound didn't continue to bleed he thought it was probably just a scratch. 

 

He was drawn to the bow of the flying sub, At least that's where the bow used to be, he thought.  Now all that remained was the pilot's chair, the co-pilot's chair and the panels to the extreme right.  The entire herculite windows from which he had viewed both the ocean and the sky were gone, as well as the control panel in front of it and good deal of overhead bulkhead. 

 

A wave of panic washed over the Prince as he pondered whether Captain Crane could have survived this terrible crash as he slowly moved forward, stepping over debris and panel parts strewn across the deck.  Wires once connected to the flight control consoles dangled eerily from overhead, as the Prince stepped cautiously over yet even more debris exiting the flying sub.

 

“Captain Crane!  Captain Crane!”  Prince Ang waited for a moment to give the Captain a chance to respond.  He didn't hear anything as he scanned the wreckage before him, almost afraid of what he might find then turned around studying the mangled craft behind him.  It was apparent that the flying sub was dead.  No spark of life left in her, no radio to hope to fix, nothing.  A moment of dread descended upon him, without the Captain he would be alone again...just like before.

 

He tried calling again, this time hearing a groan off to the right.  Ang turned toward the sound coming from a heap of debris against the flying sub, mangled wreckage obscured his view but he walked forward following the groan until he found Captain Crane lying on the ground unconscious.  Ang took in the sight before him in near shock at Crane’s condition.  He was bleeding profusely from a gash in his forehead, his left arm laid awkwardly above his head, while his right arm lay beside him in a pool of blood.  But the most disturbing injury was what Prince Ang couldn't see as his legs were pinned underneath a large hunk of the wreckage.   The Prince put his momentary shock aside and dropped to his knees beside Crane. 

 

“Oh Captain!” he called with sympathetic concern for his many injuries before recovering from the shock.

 

Though young in years, the Prince had months of extensive first aid training as he sought to ascertain the Captain’s condition.  He looked under the debris as best as he could, there was evidence of some blood, but the weight of the flying sub had effectively applied enough pressure to stop the bleeding.  His right hand or arm, he couldn't tell which, was injured and bleeding so he reached out and felt along the Captain's left arm to feel for breaks.  Feeling none, he moved his arm carefully to lie across the Captain's mid-section and took his pulse, the movement eliciting another moan.

 

“Captain Crane?” Prince Ang called, speaking calmly not wanting to add fear to the current situation.  He continued to watch Crane’s head as it rocked slightly from side to side until his eyes slowly fluttered open.

 

“Prince Ang....you...okay?” his voice quiet and airy as he spoke through the pain.

 

“I'm alright Captain Crane, but your legs...”  Prince Ang looked around for some way to help the Captain.  “Maybe I can rig a lever to move the flying sub off your legs!”

 

Lee could barely think, much less talk for the pain.  He hurt everywhere, but the pressure on his legs was nearly past what he could take.  The flying sub lay just below his hips as he bore the weight on his thighs.  He watched as the Prince looked for a solid branch strong enough to lift the debris, but small enough for him to maneuver.  Finding one of many to choose from in the wake of the crash he placed it near a rock he spotted.  He rolled the rock into place calculating an algebraic work equation on how much lever he needed to lift so much weight. 

 

He continued to watch; if the Prince could just lift the flying sub up a few inches maybe he could crawl out enough to be free.  The Prince rolled the rock into place then dug out enough dirt from the ground to fit the branch just under the debris.  It was a good plan, and it might just work.  When the Prince had everything in place he returned to Lee's left side, kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Do you think you can squirm out if I can get it high enough?”

 

“Yeah, it’s a good plan...let's give it try.” 

 

All Lee could think of was getting the pressure off, he prayed it would work and then he could just curl up into a ball and ride out the pain until the rescue party came. 

 

Prince Ang returned to the branch, placing it under the flying sub.  He levered the branch high as it laid over the rock and pulling downward as the flying sub began to lift ever so slightly.  The Prince worked with hope filled eyes straining for the weight and contemplating that the lever was working.  He strained every muscle in his body as the debris began to lift a little more with every creak of the heavy debris serving as an audible reminder of how much weight was bearing down on the Captain's legs.  It had to work, it just had to.

 

* * * * *

 

As the Prince pulled on the lever Lee could feel the pressure shift; even the fraction of the inch of movement caused pain as the renewed blood flow reminded nerve endings of their jobs as pain receptors.  He tried to hold in his groans without much success as he assessed his progress, Not high enough yet, he thought, a little more.  It looked like it might work, but just then Lee caught sight of a crack in the branch.  He barely had time to acknowledge the danger when the branch snapped in two as the flying sub came crashing back down on his legs.  He cried out loudly in uncontrolled pain he couldn't suppress as the Prince returned to his side, dropping to his knees beside him. 

 

“Captain, I'm so sorry.  I'm so sorry,” he cried, utterly devastating for the pain caused by the failed rescue attempt.

 

Lee couldn't yet speak, but brought his left hand up slowly finding the Prince's legs and patting in reassurance as the Prince took his hand in his and squeezed.

 

“'s okay...'s okay...” he breathed out raggedly, through the worst of it and pulling out of the pit of unconsciousness he nearly fell into.  The dark spots on the sides of his peripheral vision began to recede as he fought desperately to stay conscious. 

 

The Prince's anguish was expressed in tears that fell down his face openly, but was interrupted by a faint beeping noise.

 

“What was that?” he inquired with wide eyes garnering renewed hope as Lee cracked a half smile, knowing exactly what it was... the cavalry.

 

“It's a portable transmitter,” Lee explained.  “Seaview is trying to reach us...see if you can find it.” 

 

All Lee could afford were short sentences at this point, but the Prince obeyed immediately and began looking in the direction of the beeping sound.  Lee thought it was the most beautiful sound he could have heard just about then, well actually a rescue helicopter overhead would have been better, but in the absence of that, the transmitter was a close second.

 

“I found it!” the Prince announced, triumphantly displaying up a small box slightly bigger than the palm of his hand.

 

“Press the green button and speak into it,” Lee directed, hoping that the small transmitter would hold out to do its job.

 

“Flying Sub to Seaview.  Flying Sub to Seaview, do you read me?”

 

Lee was impressed at how composed the Prince was, the years of training for tomorrow's Coronation had served him well; he was handling this emergency as bravely as any man he knew.  He heard the transmitter respond, feeling a wave of relief as he heard Chip's voice.

 

“This is Seaview.  We read you Prince Ang.  Are you and Captain Crane alright?”

 

“I'm fine, but Captain Crane is hurt real bad.” 

 

Chip's voice was calm, but Lee knew better.  He could hear concern oozing out of the hand held transmitter as he responded.

 

“Is the Captain conscience, can I speak with him?”

 

“Yes, just a moment.” 

 

The Prince brought the transmitter to Lee who paused to regain his breath as a spike of pain briefly overtook him.  He breathed deeply and spoke into the transmitter feeling like it was a lifeline.

 

“Chip, it's Lee.”

 

* * * * *

The Crash from Chip's Perspective...

 

The entire control room was silent as the telltale sounds of the crash flooded the intercom.  Chip urged Lee's response, then dropped the mic and ran to the radio shack when there was no reply.  Sparks was already working using his considerable expertise to try and raise the flying sub, but there simply wasn’t anything to receive.  All communications aboard were dead. 

 

“Anything Sparks?”  Chip's question was almost unnecessary as Sparks' negative shake of the head already told him.

 

“Nothing Sir, I'll keep trying but it looks like the flying sub's communications are offline.”  Sparks hated giving the XO the bad news, especially when it was apparent that the flying sub had crashed. 

 

“Mr. Morton!  The ELT is transmitting,” Patterson reported, his voice ringing from across the Control Room while Kowalski was already busy vectoring the ELT's transmission with the last known position of the flying sub. 

 

“It's a strong signal Sir!”

 

“Good job, get me the vectors and we'll transmit coordinates to the rescue party.” 

 

Chip turned back to the radio shack contemplating of his next call he needed to make.

 

“Sparks, get me the Admiral at the Palace.”

 

“Aye, Sir.”   A few moments later, Admiral Nelson's deep baritone voice resonated over the com.

 

“This is Nelson, what's happened Chip?  We've lost contact with the flying sub!”  Admiral Nelson said, his voice reeking of controlled concern.

 

“Lee reported that they were under attack by SAMs and were hit.  We've lost radio contact, Sir.  The flying sub is down.” 

 

Chip's heart wrenched inside of him, but he continued to keep his wits about him.   He had to do everything he could to help Lee and losing himself to the unknown wasn't the best way to do that.    Years of self-discipline and naval training did their job to keep him calm and able to perform while he waited as the Admiral conferred with someone on his end.

 

“Is the emergency beacon transmitting?”

 

“Yes, Sir.”  Without having to even turn, Chip felt a paper press into his hand.  Nodding his appreciation to Patterson, he relayed the coordinates to the Admiral.  The open mic picked up on a soft conversation from the Palace before the Admiral returned to the mic.

 

“Chip, Colonel Metzger tells me that they're deep in heart of a vast wilderness, a hundred miles from the nearest road with almost no access.  We'll coordinate the rescue operation from here.  Do you have the last coordinates of FS1 before the attack?”

 

“Yes Sir,” Chip answered looking at the second piece of paper handed to him as Ski had calculated the most probable area for the SAM attack.

 

“Good.  Colonel Metzger will coordinate his forces from here to try and apprehend the attackers before they escape.  We'll stay in touch, contact me if you have any news.”

 

“Yes Sir, we'll find them Admiral.”

 

“er...Yes.  Nelson out.” 

 

The Admiral's flustered sign off wasn't unexpected; he seemed to feel compelled to hide his strong paternal feelings for Lee, but Chip knew the Admiral was just as concerned as he was.  This whole attack hadn't been completely unseen.  They had kept the flight plan a secret, and had purposely kept the Prince on board until today, the eve of his fifteenth birthday.  Chip thought back to his conversation with Lee right before they left thinking how his concern then had proven to be correct. 

 

He and Lee were making final arrangements at the chart table when Chief Sharkey docked the flying sub. 

 

“She'll be checked out and ready in fifteen minutes Lee.”

 

“Thanks Chip.  You sure you don't want to trade places?”  Lee crooked a half smile as he leaned over the chart table signing off on the logbook, his voice kept very low so as not to be overheard.

 

“Uh-uh.  No way buddy.  Besides, you're the one who looks good in dress whites, remember?” Chip responded just as quietly.

 

“Yeah, well that's not what I heard Monica say.”  Lee's grin widened deviously as Chip ducked his head and pretended to be busy with charts, coordinates...something! 

 

“And besides, these state affairs are interesting, but they're usually a bit boring.” 

 

Chip raised his head meeting Lee's eyes in a very serious move.

 

“I doubt you'll be bored.” 

 

His response was well understood by both officers since Lee's ONI training was a big part of the reason that Lee was going to the ceremony, and definitely the reason that Colonel Metzger had agreed to leave the Prince in the Captain's care.    The Prince was the last of the royal entourage to leave Seaview, with Colonel Metzger and the aides leaving with Admiral Nelson and Chief Sharkey on earlier flights.

 

The sudden weight of the moment dissipated, and the two men exchanged knowing glances as Chip smiled.

 

“Well, let's just hope it is boring then you can tell me about dancing with all the ladies in waiting.”

 

Lee smiled, as he scanned the Control Room contemplating fondly how his best friend could always be counted on to lift a heavy mood.

 

Chip's introspective moment was interrupted with the present crisis as Sparks called out excitedly.

 

“Mr. Morton!”

 

He closed the distance to the radio shack as Sparks talked a mile a minute, his hands working even faster pushing buttons and turning gains on the equipment.

 

“The Captain's personal transmitter is activated.  I took the chance that he might have it with him and checked the frequency.  It's on!” 

 

The portable transmitter was the Captain's personal frequency there could be no mistake that it belonged to him.

 

There wasn't too many times Sparks got this excited about anything.  If there was one thing a radio operator learned fast it was not to yell into a microphone, but this time Chip was sharing the excitement.  Leave it to Lee.  ONI all the way.  Not only did he have the portable transmitter with him, but it was activated!

 

“Keep transmitting Sparks.  If there's a way, Lee will find it.” 

 

Chip's excitement was contagious as hope rode a wave throughout the Control Room while every man attended his duty sharply.  The Skipper would expect it, and his Grey Lady would be in top form when he returned.

 

Less than five minutes later they were relieved to hear a decidedly young voice hailing Seaview.

 

“Flying Sub to Seaview, Flying Sub to Seaview do you read me?”

 

* * * * *

Returning to the crash site just as the Prince brings the transmitter to Lee

 

Chip stood by patiently, at least that's what it looked like on the outside, on the inside his gut was churning.  The Prince said that Lee was hurt real bad.  “Real bad” could mean any number of things, and Lee was certainly no stranger to physical injury, but it was the way Prince Ang said it.  The fourteen year old boy came out in those panicked words, it had to be “real bad” for the Prince to sound that way.  He shifted feet anxiously just as the com came to life again with the call he’d been waiting for.

 

“Chip, it's Lee.”

 

Just to hear Lee's voice sent both relief and renewed concern through Seaview’s executive officer as the strain to talk was evident in his best friend's voice.

 

“Lee, the Prince says you're injured.  How bad?”

 

* * * * *

 

Lee took a few seconds to decide how he was going to answer, but his standard answer of “fine” wasn’t going to help right now.  Right now he needed a rescue team and desperately needed his legs free, so he decided to tell it like it was.

 

“FS1 broke apart and I was thrown out...” he paused to breathe and then continued.  “I've got a huge chunk of flying sub on my legs.”  Sure the entire control room was listening and not wanting to go further about how it hurt beyond belief, Lee barreled on to his next question.

 

“What about the beacon, are you tracking us?”

 

“We've got you Lee.  Your transmission is strong and we've got coordinates.  The Admiral is heading a rescue party from your end.”

 

The hope Lee felt upon hearing the emergency beacon was working coupled with the news that the Admiral was on his way suddenly left with Chip's next statement.

 

“But Lee...you're in a remote wilderness.  They have to cut a hundred miles of road to reach you.  I think you'll be spending the night.”

 

Lee appreciated Chip's honesty, even though it was bad news he needed to know what they were up against.  He caught the look of despair threatening to flood the Prince's face as he refocused himself, knowing that until the Prince was safe at his Coronation his job wasn't done.

 

“Okay Chip, we'll manage.  Why don't you help the Prince break out the survival gear.”  Lee added a small reassuring smile as he handed the transmitter to Ang.

 

“Right Skipper.  Hang in there, we'll do all we can.”

 

Prince Ang took the transmitter, stepping around him as he headed back to what was left of the flying sub; only when Lee was sure the Prince was engaged in instructions from the Exec did he let his pain and disappointment show through.  He hadn't been able to move his right arm at all without excruciating pain.  He still had a splitting headache, and the weight on his legs was causing considerable pressure on his back.  It was almost too much, maybe it would have been if Lee was alone, but he still had a responsibility to the Prince.  They would make it...together.

 

* * * * *

 

Prince Ang was busy stacking silver foil-like emergency blankets, a few wool blankets, a tarp, rations and the first aid kit into a pile outside of the hole where the herculite windows used to be.  Mr. Morton guided him through storage bins and lockers, the last locker having a combination lock on it, but Mr. Morton had given him the code.  The door opened easily and he reached inside pulling out the sidearm, he checked the safety and walked toward the Captain to give him the gun as Mr. Morton instructed.

 

Prince Ang could hear small moans that quieted as he approached as the Captain rolled his head to meet the Prince with a small smile.  Ang squatted down handing the Captain the gun butt first as Lee reached across his body with his good arm taking the sidearm.

 

“Thanks,” he said slowly lowering the gun to rest beside his left hip.

 

The Prince returned the weak smile politely then stood and returned to the flying sub, when he was out of the Captain's earshot he continued talking into the transmitter.

 

“Mr. Morton, is there anything I can do for the Captain...he's in a lot of pain?”

 

There was a small but notable silence on the other end before he heard the reply.

 

“Is Captain Crane bleeding?”

 

“Yes.  His head is bleeding, and he has a gash on his arm.  I think his legs are bleeding, but I can't get to those.”

 

“That's okay, but you need to stop the bleeding where you can.  It would be dangerous for him to lose too much blood.  Can you do it?”

 

The Prince didn't have to think.  The last few years had been a whirlwind of classes, training, and learning that should have been made over many years, not crammed into three years, trying to make a boy fit to be king.  First aid was part of the Field Training he had taken as Commander of his country's armed forces.

 

“Yes, they taught me how.”

 

“Good, do what you can.  We'll sign off to conserve the transmitter batteries, but call if you need us.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Morton.  Flying Sub out.”

 

Prince Ang walked to the pile of survival gear.  It seemed like a lot when he was retrieving it from the wreckage, but now it didn't look like much.  Still Survival Training with his country's most elite covert army team had taught him that he could do this, he smiled slightly remembering that Survival Training had been the most fun; almost like the camping trip he took with his Father when he was nine.  Almost, but not quite, eating off the land was definitely not what it was romanced to be.  Still, he remembered feeling a little more like a man on that particular training trip, even though Colonel Metzger never allowed him out of his sight! 

 

He reached down and he picked up the first aid kit then headed toward his patient.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee allowed himself to doze off as the pain rescinded slightly, though his sleep was still marred and uncomfortable.  He stirred feeling Prince Ang settle down beside him as the Prince opened the first aid kit. 

 

“Mr. Morton says I need to stop the bleeding,” he smiled as he spoke, hoping to give the Captain the confidence to trust his ability.

 

“Okay, have at it.”  Lee returned the smile, though creased lines across his brow gave his pain away.

 

“I'm going to start with your arm, it's bleeding the most.  I'll need to remove your flight jacket, I don't think these little scissors will cut through the leather.” 

 

The Prince stepped around Lee, moving to his left side and unzipped the black leather jacket then took Lee's good arm into his hands.

 

“As I pull the sleeve just roll opposite to the right, don't move more than you have to.”

 

The Prince slid Lee's left arm out of the jacket and pulled what he could from under Lee's raised left shoulder, then guided his shoulder down and let him rest for a moment.  Lee squeezed his eyes shut managing the pain that contorting his body had produced till he felt the Prince lift his right arm.  Spasms of pain shot up and down his arm as he gritted his teeth while the Prince gently and efficiently shed the leather jacket free.

 

Ang laid his arm down and began cutting through his bloodied uniform taking on an expression of unbelief and shock at what he saw.  It was quickly replaced with a look a little less severe, but still concerned as he explained Lee’s injury.

 

“Captain, you've got a piece of metal in your arm.”

 

So that was what it was, Lee knew something wasn't right, but it didn't quite feel like a broken bone.

 

“Can you pull it out?”

 

“I think so.  Lay very still.”  The Prince continued to probe his arm as Lee steadied himself against the pain.  He heard the Prince, almost far away, and pulled himself back to awareness to listen.

 

“You'll need to stay absolutely still when I remove the metal.  It's close to an artery, not so close that I don't think we can do this, but I'll have to pull it straight out.”

 

“Okay, you're the doctor,” Lee smiled slightly at that comment then closed his eyes to concentrate.

 

The Prince readied his supplies since the bleeding would commence in earnest once he pulled the shard out.  He was ready with gauze, compresses and even had his tape ready to secure the wound.

 

“One...two...three,” he counted then calmly but quickly pulled the metal shard from Lee's arm.  The pain took Lee over the edge but he couldn't move; he let out a moan and willed his body to stay still then sank back into a dark oblivion, away from the excruciating pain.

 

* * * * *

 

The Prince pulled out the metal shard, several inches at its widest point and realized how very fortunate Captain Crane had been as it lay parallel to the artery.  He felt a bit ill for a moment as deep crimson blood oozed from the Captain's arm, but steadied himself upon realizing that he had to do this.  Ang held the compress adding the required pressure to stop the bleeding.  One never peeks under the compress, so when the wound bled through the top he added another compress.

 

While he waited, he studied the Captain's face.  The Prince had noticed how young the Captain looked on the sub.  A Naval Commander was the equivalent to an army Lt. Colonel and the Prince had conducted enough military reviews to know that the Captain's rank of Commander was quite unusual for his age. 

 

He had enjoyed watching the Captain work aboard Seaview feeling a bit mischievous as he manipulated a few situations to see how Crane would respond.  Nothing big.  It was actually quite easy to rest back into the bratty privileged prince who never-had to-work-a-day-in-his-life routine.  Boy if they only knew.  People bought it readily, and he used it often to his advantage.  That last thought brought a slight frown to his face as he realized that his father would have seen right through it. 

 

But the Captain had surprised him, he laid down the law the first day, very diplomatically but very  effectively as well.  And Ang knew that anything he did in his little experiments were not to cause a disruption of duties aboard the submarine.  Still, wasn't this what he was sent here for, to learn how to command men under him?  Well, officially it was to meet his father's good friend Admiral Harriman Nelson, and then there was the matter of keeping him alive until his fifteenth birthday, mustn't forget about that.  But he suspected that Colonel Metzger had an ulterior motive for bringing him aboard, and he was sure it was to learn how to command effectively.

 

The Prince looked down at the compress, the bleeding seemed to have stopped.  He needed to clean the wound before binding it and was glad that the Captain had blacked out as he poured the antiseptic into the wound watching it bubble then carefully looked for metal shavings and other foreign objects.  Satisfied that he had done as much as he could he patted the wound dry and placed gauze over the open wound then wrapping the Captain's arm tight with gauze.  He really needed stitches, but the Prince couldn't help with that so he finished securing the bandage with a liberal amount of tape.

 

Next he needed to tend the Captain's head.  The bleeding had stopped, but he still had a fair amount to clean up.  Gently he patted the wound with antiseptic until it was clean, then secured a gauze square to his forehead with several pieces of tape.  The cleaning had promoted further bleeding but it quickly stopped leaving only dots of blood showing through the bandage.

 

He placed his hand on the Captain's forehead, and then felt along the side of his face.  Shock hadn't seemed to set in, but the Prince knew it could at any time.  Treating for shock was really quite simple, elevate the legs and keep the victim warm.  Ang's eyes surveyed his problem, a heap of wreckage turning this simple treatment into a desperate problem. 

 

The Prince sat back a moment thinking.  Raising the legs puts the heart lower than the legs, so...if he couldn't raise the Captain's legs, he'd have to lower his heart.  He positioned himself on the Captain's left side and grimaced at the pain he knew it would cause, but proceeded to roll his torso to the right, then began to scoop out the soft dirt from under the Captain.  Years of pine leaves dropping and decomposing on the forest floor left a soft layer of dirt that was easily removed.  He only managed a few inches before he reached the hard-pan soil, hoping it was enough. 

 

He retrieved the discarded flight jacket and laid it flat in the depression he created and slowly rolled the Captain back on top of it then took a folded blanket and gently raised Crane's head placing it back onto his make shift pillow.  Next, he took a silver emergency heat blanket and placed it over his torso, tucking the edges in to keep him warm. 

 

There.  All done.  Somewhere in the middle of caring for the Captain his breathing indicated that he had shifted into a deep sleep.  The Prince rested his hand on the Captain's shoulder as he looked around their forced camp; there was a lot of work to be done before nightfall.

 

* * * * *

 

Admiral Harriman Nelson paced back and forth in the Palace Ready Room as Chip just finished reporting on Lee's condition.  The Prince was thankfully uninjured, but time was of the essence not only for Lee's sake, but for the Prince's Coronation. 

 

Nearby, several of the Prince's army generals were conferring with Colonel Metzger.  The Colonel, being the Prince's Royal Body Guard was coordinating the Rescue, while the Generals were coordinating the roundup of Opposition members. 

 

Within minutes of receiving the coordinates from Seaview, the Special Forces and police had moved in on the probable launching point of the SAMs.  Though the Opposition was operating at a much smaller level than three years ago when the King was assassinated, they still had enough bite left in them to take down a highly sophisticated aircraft, flying a course that was supposed to be a secret.

 

After a flurry of activity, the Generals and Colonel Metzger spoke in an informal conference, when they were through the Colonel turned his attention towards the Admiral and addressed him. 

 

“We have secured the surface to air missiles used in the attack.  We have nine men in custody and the Generals will begin their investigations, it is obvious that we have a leak in the Royal Palace.” 

 

That last bit of information was equally apparent to the Admiral. 

 

“Yes, but the list of suspects can't be too long.”  Harry rubbed the back of his neck as he thought out the logical conclusion of the matter.

 

“The leak has to be one of the aides that accompanied the Prince to Seaview.  No one else could have  the obtained flight plan from here.”

 

Metzger considered this and sadly shook his head.

 

“Agreed, but they would have participated in some fancy subterfuge to get access to it.”

 

The two men continued to work through the problem deciding that the flight plan could have been accessed in two ways: straight from Captain Crane's clipboard, or directly from the computer that was used to program the course into FS1.  Either case was plausible, but Harry just couldn't believe that Lee could have made that careless of a mistake, especially knowing the stakes.

 

No.  The more he thought about it, it had to be the computer.

 

“Who among your aides is handy with the computer?  Not just familiar, but can remotely access through passwords to gain entry to the program?”

 

The Colonel considered his answer, knowing that every suspicion had to be investigated, the Prince's life was on the line. 

 

“I can only think of one, but he has been with the Prince since he was a young boy, and served his father faithfully for years.  It would be hard to believe.  We will question him, but we must have proof.”

 

Harry's mind was working as fast as his feet were pacing.  He turned around with a half crooked smile, the gleam in his eyes giving away the fact that Admiral Nelson had a plan.

 

* * * * *

 

“Mr. Morton, Admiral Nelson on the video phone for you,” Sparks' voice resonated over the Control Room floor. 

 

Chip was standing at the Chart Table, a cup of coffee in his hand as he took a brief break.  Seaview was secure, sitting happily at 90 feet in neutral buoyancy; the boards were green all across and the crew was working efficiently as usual.  Right now, what he needed was something to do... something that would help Lee.

 

He reached for the mic without even looking and answered,  “Thanks Sparks, I'll take it up here.”

 

He headed to the Nose leaning against the table in front of the monitor as he watched the Admiral's face come into focus.

 

“Chip, I need you to run a diagnostic on the flight computer interface program.  I want to know every point of access, what time, and from what computer source.  I suspect our perpetrator used a back door to gain access so be sneaky about your search.”  Chip's eyes narrowed in understanding.

 

“You think someone intercepted the flight plan and was waiting for the flying sub.”  Chip's reply was more a statement than a question, and his already quick mind was working out the details of both his search and who he might be looking for.

 

“One of the aides, Sir?” Chip asked, finishing his thoughts out loud.

 

“Most likely Chip, but we need proof.  We need to nip this in the bud or the Prince won't be safe even after the Coronation.”

 

“And the rescue party Sir?” Chip asked, silently appreciating the Admiral's statement; it spoke of his belief that Lee and the Prince would be safely rescued.

 

“We'll be leaving here within the hour Chip.  It's quite a logistic undertaking.  There are some logging access roads we can use, but the flying sub is down in a dense wilderness.  We'll be cutting a brand new path for 30 to 40 miles to reach them.  We'll have to meander around boulders and mountains, but it doesn't have to be pretty, just accessible.  The Army Corps of Engineers here say mid-morning.”

 

Chip had guessed correctly, Lee and the Prince were going to be spending the night.  Normally, Chip wouldn't think it was a problem at all.  Lee was quite the outdoorsman, not to mention the many missions that had proved his ability to survive in the wilderness of forest, jungle and desert alike.  But this time, Lee was flat on his back and stationary.  Chip just hoped that the Prince was up to the task.

 

“I'll get right on it Admiral,” Chip replied.

 

“Oh and Chip, use my personal transmitter to communicate with me.”

 

“Aye, Sir.”

 

The monitor went black as Chip walked back into the Control Room. 

 

“Mr. O'Brien,” Chip paused as Bobby O'Brien crossed the floor to reach him.

 

“I'll be in my cabin working on a project.  You have the Con, make sure I'm notified for all communications from the flying sub or the Admiral.”

 

“Aye, Sir.  I have the Con.”

 

Chip tossed his pencil on the Chart Table and walked purposefully and quickly to Officer's Country, his steps clicking in the familiar sound of ascent on the spiral steps.  He needed something to do, and this was it.  People thought that technological espionage was untraceable, but they were wrong.  The computer only did what you told it to do, and Seaview's computers logged everything.  Even if the guy was good enough to erase his “fingerprint,” Chip didn't think he had enough time.  This was almost going to be fun, except that his best friend was still lying in the middle of no-where needing medical attention.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee felt a spike of pain in his legs and remembered immediately where he was, even though he had been sound asleep.  He opened his eyes and noticed that the sun was in a different place than the last time he was awake, several hours had passed he guessed.  He turned his head toward a sound to his right and surveyed the makeshift camp the Prince had made. 

 

Ang was attending to a small camp fire, the survival gear was stacked orderly alongside the flying sub and a tarp had been rigged for a cover.  A path of debris had been cleared making easy access for him to the flying sub's interior.  The Prince was busy fiddling with a ration when Lee spoke.

 

“Looks like you've been busy.”

 

“Captain, how are you feeling?” the Prince asked as he closed the distance relieved he was awake.

 

“My arm feels much better, thanks.”  Lee's smile was infectious and the Prince easily returned it.

 

“Can I get you something to eat?”

 

“No thanks, I don't think I can eat anything.”

 

“How about some water, it’s very important that you don't dehydrate,” he said, turning for the water flask even before Lee agreed.

 

“Okay, sounds good.”

 

Ang supported Lee's head forward and placed the water bottle in his left hand.  Lee took several small sips and returned the flask to the Prince with a small smile.

 

“Thanks.”

 

The Prince fiddled with the bottle cap tightening and unscrewing and tightening again as he pondered what he wanted to say.

 

“You know, Captain, all my life I've had people doing things for me.  Nurse maids, Governesses, Aides, Teachers, Professors, even Generals...all busy taking care of me.  This is the first time I've ever taken care of someone else.”

 

Lee looked into the Prince's eyes cracking a knowing weary smile yet full of wisdom.

 

“I think you'll find the more you're in leadership, that's what you spend your time doing...taking care of other people.”

 

The Prince's head dipped down, his dark hair no longer kept meticulously in place then raised his head slightly, addressing Lee softly.

 

“Like you did when you sent me to the back of the flying sub?”

 

Lee gazed upward taking a breath at the same time and getting ready to answer, but the floodgate was open and the Prince's thoughts were coming out almost faster than he could articulate them.

 

“If I had been in the co-pilot's chair, I could have pushed that button for you.  You wouldn't have had to unharness.  You wouldn't be lying here now.”  It's all my fault, was left unspoken.

 

Lee's eyes returned to the Prince and to his credit he didn't turn away.

 

“I couldn't take that chance, it's my responsibility to get you to your Coronation,” he stated then chuckled at the irony of the situation, as the Prince's eyes narrowed inquisitively.

 

“Looks like I'm sort of lying down on the job now, doesn't it?” 

 

With that the Prince let out a chuckle of his own.  He settled down on the ground beside Lee with his legs crossed Indian fashion and lowered his eyes, when he raised them again he spoke calmly.  His voice was quiet, but very respectful as if what he was going to ask was something akin to giving away company secrets.

 

“Captain, aboard the sub...I never saw you yell at your men.  Don't you get angry?”

 

Lee smiled politely while suppressing an inward chuckle, but he knew what it cost the proud young man to open up to him and he didn't want to betray that trust with a misinterpretation of his humor.

 

“Yeah I get angry, but I try not to let it be my first response,” he answered honestly.

 

“But your men, they all obeyed without question... do they all like you?”

 

This time Lee did chuckle out loud, but followed up immediately with his reply.

 

“No, not all of them, but they do respect me and if they don't respect me, they respect my title.”  Lee let that seep in for a moment and then added, “It will be the same for you too.  That's why you must wear your title with the utmost integrity and respect.” 

 

Lee's eyes showed as much caring as the soft gentle voice he delivered the statement with.  The Prince ducked his head once again, then raised it sporting a small smile that brought life to his chocolate brown eyes. 

 

“That sounds like something my Father would have said.”

 

“The Admiral tells me your father was a very wise man.”

 

“Yes,” the Prince's countenance changed to something much different, his eyes betraying his deep emotions.  This was the “something” that Lee saw on Seaview, the “something” that he recognized.

 

“He was a great man, a great leader...a great Father.  My country has been waiting for three years for a king, what if I can't do all the things that he could do?”  Pull the factions together, stand up to the self-serving elite politicians that plague any government, keep the country safe from her enemies...

 

These things he kept to himself, but he knew that the Captain knew what it meant to be in command, he knew Captain Crane would understand.

 

“My country deserves a man like my Father, but he's gone.  I didn't have enough time with him, to learn from him...to learn to be like him...”

 

With that his voice trailed off, his heart fully revealed.  Lee nodded understandably then turned his head toward the sky thinking as he spoke.

 

“I was a little younger than you were when my father died...”  his voice trailed off for a moment as he gathered his memories.  “He wasn't a king or anything like that, but I thought he was the greatest man in the world...and I loved him very much.”

 

“How old were you?”

 

“About nine,” Lee answered, turning back toward the Prince.

 

“How did you do it...go on without him?”  Here lied the question that had plagued the young prince since his own father's death three years ago; not quite twelve years old and expected to step into his father's shoes in three years.

 

“I had a lot of help; my mother...my grandfather...uncles...”

 

“But it wasn't the same,” the Prince's words a statement, not a question.

 

“No,” Lee paused considering his reply, “it wasn't the same.”

 

The Prince sat in silence feeling there really wasn't an answer to his much needed question, but Lee continued on.

 

“The older I got, the more decisions I had to make, even as a young boy.  I started asking myself, 'what would Dad do in this situation?'  And then I'd think back to the decisions I saw my father make.  You know, just everyday decisions, and I'd remember the stories my mom told me about him...every time I asked the question, I would get the same answer… he'd do the right thing.”

 

Though Lee kept strong eye contact with the young prince his countenance changed, as sadness invaded his eyes with the memories being dredged up. 

 

“That's how he died you know?  ...Doing the right thing.”

 

The Prince wanted to know, but feeling he shouldn't intrude on the Captain's very private memories he stayed quiet, allowing him to decide how much to say. 

 

Lee continued, having come to terms with these memories long ago.

 

“He was fireman, and he died in the line of duty saving another fireman's life.  I tried to be mad at Bob for living while my father died.  But at the funeral Bob's son came up to me and told me how brave Dad was and how he was grateful that he was there for his dad... well, I couldn't stay mad for long.  Dad did the right thing, that's who he was.  That's who I wanted to be when I grew up.”

 

Lee registered understanding in Prince Ang's eyes and continued.

 

“I asked that question over and over, for big and little decisions.  Finally, it became so much a part of me that I didn't have to ask anymore.  I knew I would choose to be like Dad, to do the right thing no matter the cost.”

 

Lee's bandaged right hand reached over toward the Prince placing it on his folded leg. 

 

“You see, my father had a legacy...his life.  Even though I only had nine years to know him, I knew all I needed to know to learn to be like him.  Ang,” here Lee broke all royal protocol addressing the young Prince by his first name without a title, but the Prince didn't flinch as he continued to listen intently. 

 

“Your father left you a legacy as well.  Everything you need to know about growing up to be like him is in your heart and in your memories.  What we do with those memories is the legacy that we will leave to our children.”

 

Lee ended with a squeeze to Prince Ang's knee, and withdrew his hand.  The discussion had worn him out, but he didn't want to let the Prince down as he shared something that only a child who had lost their own parent could understand.  Lee's eyes closed for a moment as he bit back another wave of pain.

 

“Prince Ang,” Lee said, returning to the proper boundaries that protocol demanded, “Could I have a little more water?”

 

The Prince suddenly remembered the water bottle he was holding and screwed the lid off, again supporting Lee's head as he drank then lowering his head when he was through.

 

“Thanks,” he said his voice again soft and airy.

 

“Thank you, Captain,” with that Ang left to tend the fire, he returned a few minutes later catching Lee in a grimace.

 

“Your legs really hurt.  Don't they?”

 

“Well, Prince...” Lee started, pausing to breathe once again, “Let’s just think of it as a good sign...that I can still feel my legs.”

 

Prince Ang realized that the Captain had just revealed his fear, that the weight of the Flying Sub and the resulting pressure would cause permanent nerve damage.  The silent observation followed by a slight breeze causing a shudder up Ang's back as he stated the obvious.

 

“It's going to be cold tonight,” he said adjusting Lee's blanket as he spoke.

 

“You'll be warmer inside FS1.”  The Prince's statement bringing Lee back from his previous thoughts of his legs, to the more immediate survival issue.

 

“No thanks, I'd rather stay out here with you, but I do think we need more wood before it gets any darker.” 

 

The Prince rose to leave when Lee caught his leg.

 

“Here, take this with you,” he said handing the sidearm butt-first toward the Prince. 

 

“No Sir, you might need it...”

 

“No...you've got a good fire going; I doubt any animals will come into camp.  You take it.”

 

Prince Ang took the firearm, checked the safety and slid it inside the belt of his slacks.

 

“I'll be back soon.  There's plenty of wood behind the Flying Sub from our crash path,” then added with a gleam in his eye and smile on his face, “Don't go anywhere.”

 

Lee returned the smile with a slight chuckle, taking the joke as intended. 

 

* * * * *

 

Admiral Nelson and Colonel Metzger rode in the same jeep heading over trails that had long since grown over.  The Army Corps of Engineers had quickly and efficiently mapped out the best route over the rough terrain.  The plan was to utilize these existing logging roads, thus reducing their job by better than half.  Of course the easiest course of action would have been to send in a rescue helicopter, homing in on the emergency beacon.  Unfortunately, high winds and fog, quite normal for this time of year, had rolled in effectively shutting off that mode of transportation. 

 

The fog was expected to lift the next morning, but no one could take the chance of depending on the weather forecast.  Tomorrow was the Prince's fifteenth birthday, and by law his Coronation must take place at 1800. 

 

The caravan of vehicles contained the men and equipment of the army corps, medical first responders as well as the King-to-Be’s personal physician, and three of the Prince's aides, all of which had accompanied the Prince on Seaview.

 

The aides followed in the jeep behind Harry, their prime suspect kept within reach and under surveillance, hopefully without his knowledge.  Harry hadn't had too much time to think about Lee  before, but now as they rode the bumpy roads he had little else to do.  The only communication with the crash site was the direct link between the portable transmitter and Seaview, on Lee's private and secure frequency.

 

Remembering his last transmission with Chip and his description of Lee's injuries, he realized that time was of the essence and wondered if they could cut a rough trail to reach Lee fast enough.  At least the Prince was uninjured.  If only they could get to them in time, but time was working both for and against them.  They needed to reach Lee quickly, but they also desperately needed to solve the mystery of the leak before reaching the crash site.  By now, the computer diagnostic would be nearly complete, and then Chip would begin the painstaking job of reading and comparing who was and wasn't authorized to access the flight computer.   

 

Harry glanced over the topographical map lying across his lap as the caravan came to a halt, they had reached the end of the existing rough trail.  The army corps began to unload for the long work ahead of them.  It was a going to be a long night. 

 

* * * * *

 

Cookie brought up a fresh pot of coffee to the nose, standing for a moment watching Chip pour over the diagnostic reports spread all over the conference table.  He had been at it for hours, plus the hour it took for the computer diagnostic to run; that was three hours and still no answer. 

 

Everyone on board knew what Chip was looking for, and every man was attending their stations with extra care so that the Exec could spend his time looking for the clues needed to nail the creep who shot down the flying sub.  Cookie was doing his part too, fresh coffee and chocolate chip cookies.

 

He poured a cup for the XO, but Chip hardly noticed.  A soft “ahem” brought Chip's attention to Cookie's gaze.

 

“I thought you might need a break, Sir.”

 

Chip sat up rubbing the back of his neck, smiling gratefully reaching for the coffee with one hand and a cookie with the other.

 

“Thanks Cookie, just what the doctor ordered,” he offered sincerely.   A little high octane coffee and a sugar fix should keep him going a little while longer, he conceded inwardly.

 

Cookie hardly ever smiled, but you could always tell when he approved.  He headed back to the galley thinking of tonight's menu for dinner, which coincidentally contained all of the Exec's favorites.  He would make sure that Mr. Morton took care of himself.  Yep, everyone had their job to do.

 

* * * * *

 

Several hours later, Cookie served dinner in the nose to both Mr. Morton and Sparks, who had joined Chip searching through the diagnostic codes.  They stopped for a quick dinner, but were anxious to get back to their work.  Chip was impressed with the job the perpetrator did in covering his tracks, but he was also sure that he could find the cover up and back track it to the source. 

 

He wasn't sure where he had come by his aptitude for all things electronic, he only hoped that he was good enough to find the answer in time.  The Admiral explained that their prime suspect was with the rescue party, and they needed to nail him before they reached the crash site.  Chip was just about ready to take a break when he found what he was looking for.  Bingo!  The back door the aide used, his user name, and his computer ID number.  Nailed!

 

The sudden and unusual whoops of triumph from the nose cued the entire Control Room that the Exec had found what he was looking for. 

 

* * * * *

 

The night air was cold, but the warmth from the fire made it bearable.  Lee turned his head, finding the Prince sitting straight up wrapped in a blanket asleep, the sidearm sitting beside him within reach.  He had to smile at the thought of a  fifteen year old boy looking after him, sitting up to protect him through the night and wondered what Admiral Johnson at ONI would think of this sight.  His smile turned back to a grimace however, the pressure on his legs a painful part of his existence right now.  It wasn't that he was used to it or that he had worked through the pain, it was just that there wasn't anything else he could do but wait.

 

He turned back to view the starry sky up above him, the patchy fog giving way enough to get a good glimpse just overhead.  He didn't have enough of a view to see all the constellations, but he did spot the North Star, every sailor's best friend.  He wondered how close the rescue party was.  Chip said that the Admiral was with them, this too brought an inward smile.  Knowing that Harry was part of the rescue team was keeping him going.  He knew that the Admiral wouldn't give up, he would press on until they were found.

 

He fantasized about being in Sick Bay, laying there all nice and warm.  In his fantasies there were no extraneous tubes stuck in various parts of his body, just warmth and a pain free sleep.  Jamie would make him all better...they would fuss about when Lee could get back to work...and everything would be right in the world again.  

 

Then he realized that as long as he was fantasizing he would think of himself healthy and well, standing up in the conning tower...shooting the stars with the sextant, the navigation tool of sailors for centuries. 

 

Better yet, sitting on the Front Porch with the Admiral having a cup of coffee; fresh, hot, steaming coffee.  They would be talking about the next mission.  No arguments about why they couldn't go as deep as Harry wanted to go next to active volcanic fissures, just a nice calm counting-the-seals-type of mission. 

 

Okay, so maybe it was all a fantasy, but it brought him comfort just now and he would take it where he could get it.  Thinking again about Harry brought renewed comfort as he contemplated inwardly.  They were the perfect team; the Admiral pushing the scientific envelope and Lee keeping them safe while he did it. 

 

Harry's gung-ho ability to think outside of the scientific box had put them into some real dangers, but Lee realized that his sometimes cavalier attitude toward safety had been what enabled Harry to move Seaview from the dream...to blueprint...to reality.  And it wasn't a one-time deal.  Lee thought that the Admiral rivaled Thomas Edison in patents and inventions, the Flying Sub was a prime example.  Who would have believed the same craft could glide as effortlessly in the water as it did in the air...? 

 

A couple more hours.  The sun would break over the horizon and then they would hear the sound of heavy machinery making their way toward them.  He figured he would hear them miles before they reached the camp, that thought encouraging him to stop and listen intently through the cool quiet night for any trace of such noise. 

 

Not yet, a little while longer.  A shot of pain had him gasping for air which immediately brought the Prince to his side, bottle of water in hand.

 

“Here Captain, take a little more.”

 

Lee obeyed without fuss, the water tasted good while serving as a temporary diversion.  The constant pain had taken his toll, blood loss and trauma added to his ordeal leaving him entirely too weak.

 

“Thanks...”  it was all he could manage right now as he closed his eyes, aware that the Prince was watching him intently.

 

Prince Ang readjusted the blankets and placed his hand on the Captain's head.

 

“You're a little warm, not too bad though.  I'd like to give you some aspirin, but with the wound in your arm...” his voice trailed away as Lee finished the statement.

 

“No, aspirin's a blood thinner.  You're right.  I'll be okay.”

 

Somehow Ang didn't quite believe the Captain, but accepted his sound assessment.  Lee's eyes remained closed while Prince Ang adjusted the blanket again and returned, tending the fire as he thought through the situation. 

 

A fever was setting in, but there wasn't too much he could do about it except wake the Captain in a few hours and keep him in fluids.  He resettled in his protective stance watching over the Captain and the camp. 

 

He wrapped his hand around his knees as he sat with them folded against his chest and laid his head over his folded arms.  Maybe he'd close his eyes for a little while... not sleep, just rest.  In a few minutes, the weary Prince was sound asleep.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry watched Emad as he conferred with the other aides.  He certainly had everyone fooled with his concern for the Prince.  He just signed off with Chip and had the evidence to prove that someone used Emad's laptop and had accessed the flight computer with his user code, but it was admittedly circumstantial evidence.  What Metzger needed was a confession.

 

Colonel Metzger stood beside the Admiral watching both Emad and the progress of the very efficient army engineers carving out a rough jeep trail where there had been nothing before but forest.  It was late, or early depending on how you looked at it, almost 0200.  The engineers were making good progress, Harry figured that they would reach the crash site in the morning, not mid-morning as he had told Chip.  It was time to confront Emad.  The Admiral smiled inwardly, time for a bit of subterfuge of his own. 

 

“Mr. Emad, could I have a word with you?” Harry asked, speaking naturally as if they were going to discuss plans of the rescue operation.

 

“Of course, Admiral Nelson.”

 

Emad nodded politely to the others stepping away from the small group of aides and approached the Admiral.  Harry led him towards a tree that wasn't slated to be cut down, speaking both quietly and darkly into Emad's ear.

 

“I have further instructions from the Republic for you.”

 

The Admiral held out the topographical map pretending to discuss their progress as Emad's eyes shot back an alarming panicked look to which Harry responded with a rueful smile. 

 

“Don't worry, I'm here to help you.”

 

“If you're working for the Republic then why did they need me to get the flight plan?” 

 

Apparently, this was going to be easier than Harry thought as it hadn't taken much bait at all to lure in this fish.

 

“Because it would be too obvious and the 'arrangement' that the PR and I have would  have been blown.” 

 

Emad's eyes gave away his complete acceptance of Harry's shallow if not implausible excuse.

 

“I figure the easiest way will be to arrange an accident on the way back, then General Ashto can assume command as the monarchy succession dictates.” 

 

Emad spilled the beans without a second thought, grateful to share the burden with someone else as  Harry silently considered that Emad's skills in computer espionage certainly didn't lend itself over to his role of spy-and-would-be-killer; time to end the charade.

 

Colonel Metzger stepped out from behind the trees with several armed guards who quickly flanked Emad with their rifles pointed menacingly in his direction. 

 

“Thank you Mr. Emad, but your work for the People's Republic and the Opposition is over now,” Metzger said as guards secured Emad's hands behind his back and led him to a waiting jeep. 

 

Metzger headed to the communication truck making the necessary arrangements to take General Ashto into custody.  Having completed everything he could think of to secure the safety of the Prince, he turned back to the Admiral.

 

“It makes sense actually.  General Ashto is a cousin with royal blood, perhaps he felt it was his right.  He will have his day in court, but I have no doubt that a thorough investigation will prove his part in all of this.  I think we can probably get more out of Emad as well, he doesn't seem to be very good at keeping secrets,” the last offered with a raised eyebrow and an accompanied smile.

 

Harry returned the smile, grateful that the leak and been discovered, now all they needed to do was to reach the crash site and get Lee the medical help he needed.  His smile widened to reach his eyes as he finally let the hope of a successful mission reach his heart.

 

Hold on Lee, hold on.  We're coming. 

 

* * * * *

 

The Prince slowly raised his head and listened intently into the cold night air.  A clanking sound, he was sure he heard...there is goes again!  Listening in the direction of the noise he was thrilled to see lights penetrating the dusky morning.  They were still at least a mile away, but they were near...very near.  He bounded from his spot beside the wreckage, and re-stoked his fire, then dropped to his knees beside the Captain. 

 

“Captain.  Captain Crane!” He called, gently shaking the Captain as he spoke.  He didn't stop to think that it might be better to let the Captain sleep, surely he would want to know.

 

Lee roused slowly, his eye lids heavier than ever before.  He looked slightly confused for a few seconds, then awareness and sharpness filled his eyes as he focused on the Prince.

 

“They're here, Captain.  They're here!”  The Prince's excitement was overflowing as he raised his head to examine the progress of the rescue party in the distance.  Lee could hear the sounds of the engineers working but he was too tired to even turn his head, instead he watched the Prince until he broke the silence with his weak voice.

 

“You're ready you know...to be King.”

 

The Prince's attention was immediately drawn back to the Captain as he said words that he desperately needed to hear.  Lee's voice was weak and airy, but still held the strength of command that he had witnessed over the previous week.  Captain Crane didn't wait for a reply but continued on.

 

“Find out who the counselors are that you can trust...then listen to them, but in the end the decision is yours.  Don't let anyone talk you into a decision that you don't believe in.”

 

Lee smiled thinly, clearly racked with pain as the Prince returned the smile laced with concern.

 

“There's something else I want you to know.  Whatever happens with my legs...you did everything you could.”

 

Prince Ang heard the pain-laced despair in Lee's voice, he knew the Captain was at the end of what he could take, but there was still hope.  More hope now than before! 

 

“Captain Crane listen to me,” Ang said, his voice carrying all the authority of anyone in command.

 

“When that rescue party gets here, you're going to be cared for by my country's finest doctors.  You're going to be fine,” he offered in confidence, willing Lee to hold on.

 

“Alright,” Lee conceded, borrowing from the Prince's hope and concentrating on the sounds of the rescuers, making their way toward them.

 

Ang's attention was shifted again as he watched the rescue party breech trees close enough to actually see as Lee studied the Prince.  He was sure the former King would have been proud of his son, he knew he was.

 

His eyes closed but opened again when he felt another hand on his shoulder as he looked up to see Harry, his worried eyes giving way to a smile.

 

“What took you so long, Sir?” Lee jested returning a pained grin, his eyes giving away his own relief at seeing Admiral Nelson.

 

“Don't talk Lee, we'll have you out of here soon.”

 

Harry squeezed Lee's shoulder lightly, returning the sentiment as Lee screwed his eyes shut grimacing again, his voice barely audible as he spoke.

 

“I knew you'd come, Sir.”

 

Harry stepped aside as the medical first responders reached Lee with their equipment reading his vitals and talking amongst themselves as they attended their patient.  Lee seemed to be unconscious but Harry thought he was just conserving his strength as the rescue workers prepared and put in place a portable hydraulic jack in the most suitable location.  The engineers waited and conferred with the medical staff before proceeding.  The doctor decided that the release of pressure would likely send the Captain into shock, so he decided to give him a hefty dose of morphine before lifting the weight off his legs. 

 

Harry leaned over Lee's shoulder and squeezed, his eyes opening and finding him immediately.

 

“Lee, the doctor is going to give you something for the pain, then we'll lift the debris.” 

 

Seaview's Captain nodded his understanding, his watch was over and he was more than content to take the bumpy ride home in a deep sleep away from the pain.

 

The debris creaked and groaned as if it didn't want to give way to the hydraulic jack forcing it upward.  As soon as the flying sub was raised high enough, braces were added underneath to hold it in place.  The medical team placed a back board beside Lee and rolled him onto it without a single groan, their patient out cold, safe in a drug filled sleep. 

 

With the back board in place, they proceeded to pull Lee out from the wreckage to the safety of the forest floor.  The medical team completed their triage, adding an IV dripping fluids, antibiotics, and morphine.

 

Harry watched the Prince hovering over all their ministrations over Lee.  Ang had allowed the Royal Physician a few moments to fuss, but he quickly moved the physician’s attention back to Seaview's Captain.  Finally, they picked up Lee's stretcher and took him to a waiting truck.  The Prince followed the medics as they placed the stretcher across the truck bed resting on a makeshift table and held Lee's hand tightly even as the medical team strapped their patient in for safety.

 

Prince Ang was lost in his thoughts for a moment when he felt a gentle hand resting on his shoulder.

 

“I don't want to leave him either, but he has to come down the mountain slow and carefully.  We have to get you to your Coronation quickly,” Admiral Nelson wisely advised, his deep voice both soothing and comforting as he spoke.

 

Prince Ang carefully placed Lee's hand under the warm blanket and stood up decidedly.

 

“I'm ready,” he announced, understanding that he also had a duty to perform and the first order of business was to be crowned King.

 

The Royal Physician made a move to follow Prince Ang but was stopped in his tracks as the Prince addressed him.

 

“Doctor, you will stay with the Captain and join us later.”

 

“But Your Highness, the Royal Physician must remain by the side of the King at all times!” his flustered explanation not lost on those around him as Colonel Metzger looked on with interest at the scene playing out before him.  He knew more than anyone that the Prince was well aware of the royal protocol.

 

“I am not crowned King yet!” Ang delivered sternly, but then softened his approach by placing his hand on the Doctor's shoulder.  The Prince was tall for his age, 5'10” and he wasn't through growing yet.  He continued, his eyes easily reaching the doctor's as he spoke.

 

“You will stay here and care for Captain Crane as you would care for me, or my Father,” pausing and then adding, “It is my wish.  Afterward, you will take your place by my side as is right,” he finished with a reassuring smile.

 

“Yes, Prince Ang, I will keep you informed of his progress.” 

 

The Prince squeezed his shoulder and headed to the waiting jeep with his armed convoy leaving behind the twisted wreckage of the flying submarine.  He settled into the jeep with Harry and Colonel Metzger and mentally prepared himself as he took a bumpy ride to his Coronation.

 

* * * * *

 

The trip down the mountain felt like a roller coaster ride.  Although it was only 1100 hours they had precious little time to spare.  A helicopter was waiting in a clearing at the base of the mountain.  It would return later for Lee once the rescue team cleared the fog patches of the mountain range.  Harry watched the Prince silently, noticing his bearing had changed since a week ago.  Curious. 

 

Once they arrived at the Palace the Prince was whisked away to begin preparations for his Coronation.  It was the biggest single event that had happened to the country since King Ang I married his bride in a fantastic royal wedding. 

 

Harry took the time to update Chip on the current news about Lee, then quickly retired to his state room to dress.  A shower and shave later found Harry putting the final touches on his dress whites with his ribbons in full “bloom” for the royal event.  He fiddled with his stiff-necked jacket, wondering not for the first time, who had designed these things.  Finding everything in order despite his complaints of the neckline, he straightened his jacket and headed for the Royal Court where the ceremony would take place.

 

Security was tight and it was apparent that Colonel Metzger wasn't taking any chances.  Harry found an escort outside his door, but took no offense in the gesture as everyone wanted the Coronation to be a beautiful trouble-free event.  The country needed the stability that crowning the new king would bring as the royal line continued as it had for centuries before.

 

* * * * *

 

Colonel Metzger greeted Harry warmly extending his gratefulness for all that Harry and the crew of Seaview had done. 

 

“You will be glad to know that General Ashto is in custody along with several of his aides.  I believe that the Opposition will finally be shut down once the investigation is complete.  We have every reason to believe that Ashto was behind the King's assassination.” 

 

The last was said with a hint of sadness but Colonel Metzger recovered quickly adding, “But today is not a day for sorrow.  I have seen the Prince, he will be a most elegant King today,” Colonel Metzger said, his pride beaming through and speaking with an ease that Harry had not seen before now.

 

“I'm very much looking forward to the ceremony.”  The only thing better would have been for Lee to be standing here with me, Harry thought.  The helicopter had medevac’d Lee to the Royal Dispensary, a wing within the Palace grounds that was fully equipped to handle any medical need for the royal family, including major surgery.

 

While his thoughts were with Lee, Harry's duties were here, representing America's interests and paying respects to the son of his very dear friend King Ang I. 

 

As the bell towers struck six times on the clock in the town square, all attention in the Court was placed on the great hall doors.  The large fifteen foot double doors were opened with a fanfare of music and trumpet blasts as the young Prince entered the court dressed in his finest.  As he strode past the invited guests his face carried a calmness that effectively hid the flutters in his stomach.

 

Many a maiden's heart fluttered right along with the Prince's stomach as he walked by.  His 5'10” inch frame fit elegantly in his white uniform.  Golden epaulets with the military insignia of the Commander and Chief adorned his shoulders, while various ribbons for military training and achievements he had earned in his short fifteen years lay across the left chest of his jacket.  A crimson sash fell from his left shoulder across his chest to his right hip.  He wore a matching crimson red cummerbund at his waist and an ascot tied neatly about his neck while gold braids encircled his wrist sleeves matching the gold buttons of his uniform jacket.  The same gold braids traveled the length of his legs rounding off the elegant uniform.  On his right hip he wore the saber worn by his father at his own Coronation.  Trailing behind him was a beautiful royal cape that had adorned Kings in his family for 150 years.

 

He approached the throne and removed his saber placing it on the steps before him as he bowed on one knee to offer the traditional prayer of thanks, but it was more than a tradition to him.  He thanked his Maker and asked for wisdom just as Solomon had thousands of years ago.

 

As he raised his head, Colonel Metzger approached and the Prince took off his white uniform cover, handing it to the Colonel while a court dignitary stood nearby with the royal crown held on a velvet pillow.  The crown was held over the Prince's head as he repeated his vows to serve his country with honor, dignity, and integrity then the clergyman took his father's saber tapping first his right shoulder and then his left.  The crown was lowered to his head and King Ang II rose to his feet.

 

As he turned to face his subjects, King Ang's smile was fresh and dignified while sounds of joyous celebration filled the hall.  He greeted various members of his Court and found his way over to Colonel Metzger, his mentor and ever present body guard. 

 

“Colonel Metzger, my first act as King will be to see to your appointment as General of the King's Army.” 

 

The newly appointed General was surprised but held his decorum by bowing his head and thanking His Majesty for his trust.

 

King Ang made his way back to the front of the great hall and took his place on the throne as the Court erupted in joy which could be heard by the crowds gathered outside the gates.  The Royal event had been televised as the entire country celebrated the fact they once again had a King.

 

The festivities continued at the Royal Ball.  King Ang had made prior arrangements for a lottery enabling 200 guests from the non-nobles to attend.  He walked the ballroom floor making stops to speak with members of the legislative council that he would be working with to govern his nation.  He danced several dances and then bowed politely to excuse himself as he spotted the royal physician. 

 

“He is out of surgery Your Majesty,” he reported, quickly informing the King on the matter.  “It went well, we'll keep him in bed for the next week, but we expect Captain Crane to make a full recovery,” the last offered with a smile.

 

King Ang took the physician’s hand in his to thank him, but words didn't come the glisten in eyes said it all as the Royal Physician took his place beside the King.

 

Harry had been watching from across the ball room floor and politely excused himself as well as King Ang guided the Admiral to the side for privacy and happily relayed the doctor's words.

 

“Your Majesty by your leave, I'd like to see about visiting Captain Crane.” 

 

A breach of protocol Harry knew, but he thought it was worth the lack of etiquette it showed.

 

“Certainly Admiral Nelson, I will also come as soon as the matters of state allow.”

 

Harry bowed his head in respect, and then left the ball room to see Lee.

 

* * * * *

 

The large private room was evidence of the royal members who used this room.  Large windows with beautiful draperies pulled open allowed the early morning sun to flow into the room.  King Ang stood at the door listening to the Doctor's report with General Metzger and Admiral Nelson by his side.

 

“Just a short visit Your Majesty, rest is what he needs.”

 

The King nodded his understanding and approached Captain Crane's bed, while the General and the Admiral stayed at the door offering them privacy.  King Ang came along Lee's right side and was happy to note that he looked much more comfortable than the last time he saw him.  On his forehead was a fresh bandage square while his right arm lay at his side in a swathe of bandages.  His bed was elevated at a 45 degree angle, lifting the Captain's head and torso into a sitting position as he rested with his eyes closed.

 

“Captain Crane,” the King called, addressing him quietly but he only needed to call once as Lee's eyes opened and found him.  The King had a late night, as the Royal Ball lasted into the very early hours of the morning.  He stood there in the same uniform he had worn to the Coronation as Lee took in the welcome sight and smiled brightly.

 

“I guess it’s Your Majesty now.” 

 

His voice carried a familiar humor that King Ang recognized from their forced camping trip, but he was more concerned with Lee's health to fully appreciate it just now.

 

“How are you feeling Captain?”

 

Lee answered, only slightly evident that he was still heavily medicated for pain.

 

“Fine.  Your doctors tell me a couple of days in bed and I'll be back on my feet again.”

 

At this, the King's head dropped as he didn't quite hide the smile forming on his lips.

 

“Captain Crane, they told me a week in bed,” his admonishment lost on the Captain.

 

“Yeah well, let me tell you a thing or two about doctors, Your Majesty.  They're always trying to keep you in bed longer than you need.”  This he said with a full smile accompanied with a chuckle coming from the King.

 

“Well, I think this time, perhaps you should listen.” 

 

“Well maybe you're right,” Lee replied ducking his head then looking back up, surveying the King again and speaking gently.

 

“How was the Coronation?”

 

“Very Grand!”  The King's pleasure clearly infectious as he spoke then softening his tone and meeting Lee's eyes.

 

“I wish you could have been there.”

 

“I would have liked to have been there,” Lee offered sincerely, their friendship sealed in a way that happens when two people weather a great trial together.

 

“Would it break protocol for you to sit here,” Lee patted the bed next to him as he spoke, “and tell me about it?”

 

King Ang slid his hip onto the edge of the bed and comfortably began to portray the evening, telling Captain Crane every detail he could remember, his hands animated as he described the many wonderful scenes and events that had taken place the last evening.

 

* * * * *

 

General Metzger and Admiral Nelson watched the King as he portrayed the events of the Coronation and Ball to the Captain each silently taking pleasure at seeing both so relaxed and pleased.  General Metzger broke the silence in a quiet reflection, speaking in low tones as to not disturb the King.

 

“You know Admiral Nelson, this tragedy has proven to be more of a blessing than anything.”

 

Harry raised an inquisitive eye and asked, “How so?”

 

The General watched the King as he spoke.

 

“A week ago, we sent you a boy destined to be King... he came back a man, ready to be King,” he finished philosophically turning his attention back to Harry as he continued.

 

“He's quite changed since his return.”

 

Harry's eyes surveyed the room once again, the King and Lee laughing and sharing with one another in ease.

 

“Well General,” Harry paused and smiled with a gleam in his eyes, “I'd say he had a good man to learn from.”

 

 

 

The End

 

Legacy

 

 

Note:  Revised from original version for readability and clarification only, though minor continuity issues were addressed no changes in plotlines were made.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2013, Revised 2015 All Rights Reserved

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and her main characters belong to Irwin Allen