This story follows an itty-bitty plot bunny dropped in The Better Part of Valor, but is completely a stand-alone story. 

 

 

 

Lifeline

 

by Lynn

 

 

Admiral Harriman Nelson sat at his desk staring straight ahead at his rack across the deck.  He stared, but he didn't see the rack, he was lost in thought as tears coursed down his cheeks like a flood.  It didn't make sense, not like this.  His thoughts replaying over and over the video call he had just received from Admiral Johnson, the head of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

 

“Hello Gerald, I hope you're calling to tell me that my Captain is on his way back to the states,” Harry asked calmly.  He had already been advised that Lee had completed his mission and was out of enemy territory.

 

“Harriman...it's about Lee,” Gerald paused as he swallowed.  Harry leaned forward, 'Lee'...not 'Commander', not 'Crane'...just 'Lee'.  Harry knew something was wrong, very wrong.

 

“What is it Gerald?”

 

“I promised Lee a long time ago that if anything ever happened, I would contact you myself,” Gerald paused but continued on before Harry could ask him to get on with it.  “His mission went well, he retrieved the information and got out clean,” this Harry already knew, so what was Gerald so upset about?

 

“He was flying second seat on an F-14 Tomcat, he was coming home.  His pilot issued a mayday and they headed for the closest land, they crashed in Puerto Reina*.  Harry, there were no survivors.”  Admiral Johnson's voice trailed off slightly as Harry took in the bombshell just dropped on him.

 

“What do you mean no survivors?  Didn't they parachute out?”  This wasn't making sense, it was more than Harry's desire for there to be a mistake, isn't this what ejection seats were made for?

 

“Puerto Reina is cooperating fully with the State Department.  They've recovered two bodies in the wreckage, burned beyond recognition.  Harry, they have Lee's ring.”

 

Harry's sob was barely held back as he took in Gerald's words.  Lee was dead, it couldn't be true...could it?

 

“We're sending a transport to retrieve their bodies Harry...”

 

“No,” Harry interrupted, “Seaview will retrieve Captain Crane's body.  It's her duty and her right.”

 

Gerald nodded, “Alright Harry.  I'm sorry.  Lee was something special.  I'm sorry.” 

 

Harry nodded, unable to speak as Admiral Johnson signed off respectfully.

 

Harry pulled himself together, the next thing he had to do, almost as painful as receiving the video call.

 

He pressed the white intercom box on his desk, “Mr. Morton, please report to my cabin.”

 

An efficient, “Aye Sir,” was heard as Harry composed himself and readied himself to break the news to Lee's “brother”.

 

* * * * *

 

Seaview's crew was somber.  Chip had broken the news to the crew over the boat's com system.  Chip was holding it together on the outside, but on the inside he felt like part of him was dead.  He leaned over the chart table wearing a black mourning band around his arm, as did the rest of the Control Room Crew.  He had just finished plotting the course for Puerto Reina, a small South American country with little diplomatic ties with America. 

 

Like the Admiral, Chip was struggling to make sense of the tragedy.  Lee had been sent on a dangerous ONI mission, but had died in an airplane crash.  All the odds Lee had beaten in the past; coming home when everything was against him, all the sea creatures he had faced, all the aliens!  And to die in an airplane crash?  It just wasn't fair. 

 

Chip shook his head.  Call it just dumb Denial Syndrome, but he wasn't going to believe it till he saw Lee's body.  Maybe not even after that...till they positively identified his dental records.  Chip's head ducked, it was Denial Syndrome, he just didn't want to face it.  His head shot back up in defiance, No!  It wasn't denial it was not giving up, not until he had to.  He wanted to see Lee, see his ring.  See something that would prove to him that his best friend was really dead.

 

Chip wrote the coordinates out and gave them to Lt. O'Brien.  “Make it so Bobby, I'm going to check on the Admiral.”

 

“Aye Sir.”  Bobby wasn't as close to the Skipper as Chip or the Admiral, but there wasn't a man on board who wasn't mourning the loss in a very personal way.

 

* * * * *

 

His head lolled to the right, and then to the left as a small moan passed through his lips.  He opened his eyes slowly and recognized the effects of a very strong sedative.  Lee brought his left hand to his head and rubbed his temple, almost immediately he realized that his black onyx ring was gone, as was his watch.  He turned his head to the left and surveyed the room he had been deposited in.  No windows, one door, a toilet, no sink, and a beat up cot with an equally beat up mattress.  

 

He sat up trying to make sense of the situation.  The mission was complete, he was headed home.  So why was he being held prisoner, and where was he?  He looked down and noticed that he was wearing the black jeans and black shirt that he had worn under his flight suit.  The last thing he remembered was getting on the F-14 with Captain Gunn, somewhere on the flight Lee noticed that something was wrong and then...that was it.  He woke up here.

 

He stood up carefully, allowing his equilibrium to catch up with his need for information.  The room was completely nondescript.  Nothing in it to give away his location.  Lee reached for his belt buckle where his transponder was hidden but pulled his hand away when he heard the handle on his cell door turn.  Two guards entered and indicated that he should move forward.  Lee looked over his options, deciding that these two guards weren't a problem, but unfortunately the two guards just outside the door made the odds too heavy against him.  So he walked forward, hoping to get some information as to where he was, and what they wanted from him.

 

Lee was taken to a room with an ominous looking chair laden with straps and sighed.  Interrogation.  Whatever was going on here wasn't going to be pleasant.  He tried to fight being strapped into the chair but the guards were overpowering, and the strong sedative was still working out of his system.  In the end he found himself sitting in the chair with straps on his wrists, his arms, and across his chest.

 

“Welcome Captain Crane.”

 

Lee looked up to see two men, one blond with dark rimmed glasses, the other dark complected like his guards and wearing a military uniform.  He wore a mustache, and his accent confirmed that Lee was in a South American country of some kind. 

 

“I'm sure you have many questions.  I'll try and answer them for you, and then you can answer a few for me.”

 

Not likely, thought Lee, as he was sure that the chair he was sitting in wasn't made for taking tea with friends.

 

“Your pilot, Captain Gunn is safe and sound enjoying his two million dollars and the hospitality of our small country.”

 

Lee's eyes narrowed in question.

 

“Puerto Reina, Captain Crane.  Puerto Reina,” his captor answered as if Lee had voiced the question audibly.

 

Puerto Reina was a small country, with no love loss for America and leaned heavily toward a socialistic government.

 

“Your country believes that you are both dead.  Two bodies of equal height and body weight were taken from our morgue and placed in your aircraft before it was burned.  You're a dead man Crane.  There's no rescue party coming, and no one knows you're alive.”  His captor stopped to smile as if he was extremely pleased with himself.

 

“Now Captain, as to what I want.  We know that Seaview helped to lay the Underwater Missile Defense System.  We want the location of those missiles.”

 

Lee's face registered a defiance that wasn't missed by his captor.  “You can't hold out forever Crane.  Sooner or later you'll tell us, so make it easy on yourself.”

 

“I have nothing to say to you,” Lee said with all the defiance he could muster.

 

“So you say,” responded the dark haired adversary standing before him.  “Hancock,” he said turning to the shorter blond man standing near a computerized control station.  “Let's give our “friend” here a little sample of what life will be like if he doesn't cooperate.”

 

Hancock moved dials and keyed in commands as a whining noise was heard, then Lee felt the shock course through his body.  It was excruciating, the effects lingering even after Hancock powered the unit down.  Lee's head dipped over toward his chest as he struggled to recover. 

 

“You will tell me Crane.  Sooner...or...later, but you will tell me.”  He smiled, and then the interrogation continued.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee was dumped back off into his cell on his beat up cot and rolled immediately into a tight curl.  It wasn't quite like any shock treatment he had endured before.  The pain seemed to focus on his mid-section, affecting his internal organs.  Even after the shock was over, the effects of the damage to his body lingered like the aftermath of a severe beating. 

 

He breathed heavily, and reached for his transponder hidden under the false front of his belt buckle.  It wasn't an ONI transponder, it was his personal frequency that he used for Seaview missions.  He thumbed the transponder and waited for the light that would tell him that he was transmitting, but saw nothing.  All his hope nearly vanished as he realized that the shock treatment had likely damaged the electronic components. 

 

He pulled the transponder out of its secreted place and fiddled with it with clumsy hands.  Taking a deep breath, he reached down to the heel of his boot retrieving the small metal pieces he used for picking locks.  He had to work at getting the back plate off but finally made it and looked down at the fried wire that was keeping his transmission from going through. 

 

He needed a small metal piece that would bend and complete the circuit.  He began bending his metal pick but it snapped instead.  Lee paused trying to rein in the pain and disappointment, a moment later he realized that the uncomfortable cot he was lying on might just do the trick.  He pulled back the corner of the mattress as he listened for any sound coming from the door that would alert him to hide his transponder. 

 

As he pulled the mattress away he was relieved to see the old fashioned weaving of small diameter metal pieces that were barely holding his cot together.  He worked on one that looked particularly frail and bent it back and forth, over and over, until it snapped and was freed on one end.  Then he did the same on the other end, until he held a small metal piece in his hands.  Carefully he bent the metal, thankful that the soft metal's tensile strength allowed it to be malleable.  He first made one connection, holding the metal in place, and then laid it across the other connection.  The metal was too big to set in place like a wire, but he could physically hold the pieces together to make the connection.  Lee watched as his inner prayers were answered and the green light lit up signaling a solid transmission.

 

Lee breathed a sigh of relief, and held his transponder in place sending off a transmission that would only be good if Sparks was looking for it.  It was a long shot, he knew.  By now everyone would have been told that he was dead.  If they had no reason to question the reports of his death then it would be unlikely that Sparks would even monitor his private frequency.  Still it was a chance, and he had to try something. 

 

As he held the connection in place it dawned on him that he could actually send a message via morse code.  He held the connection solidly in place for a few minutes more, wanting to get his radio operator's attention, but he was anxious to see if his Morse code idea would work.  He heard the door handle and broke the connection stashing his treasured transponder under his dirty lumpy pillow.

 

Two guards entered the room, as Lee remained curled up on his side.  They manhandled him to his feet and escorted him back to the interrogation room.

 

* * * * *

 

The mood on the boat hadn't improved, nor was it expected to.  Morale was low, but the crew had begun talking again and soon stories about the Skipper were flowing throughout the boat.  Stories of his heroism, his hands-on help with maintenance projects, his walks about the boat at all hours including the Dog Watch shifts.  There were a few smiles rendered as the crew remembered him fondly, but then the somber mood would return.  Seaview was wounded, her Skipper was gone.

 

Chip had the Con taking the great boat to retrieve the body of her Captain.  The small South American country was located on the Pacific Coast of the continent and he had been running the boat at full but needed to reduce to standard from time to time to allow the coolant system to keep up.  They needed to retrieve the Skipper's body and bring closure to the crew.  He stood in full uniform, wearing his dark service jacket and slacks.  Before too long, he and Harry would take FS1 to Puerto Reina and retrieve Lee's remains.  It was a somber duty, but Chip wouldn't leave it to anyone else, he suspected the Admiral felt the same way.  His thoughts were interrupted by a call from Sparks.

 

“Mr. Morton to the radio shack please.”

 

Chip raised his head, sat down his pencil and headed toward the radio shack with little enthusiasm.

 

“What do you have Sparks?”  Chip asked.

 

“Mr. Morton,” Sparks took a breath, “Sir, I had a reading...for a few minutes I had a transmission,” Sparks' confused voice was unsettling; Chip wasn't used to seeing him shaken up like this.

 

“What are you talking about Sparks?  What transmission?”

 

“The Captain's personal frequency Sir.  I don't why, but I've been checking it every fifteen minutes or so, and Sir...for a few minutes his transponder was transmitting.”

 

Chip's eyebrows creased as he listened.

 

“I'm not in denial Sir, I know the frequency was transmitting.”

 

“You may not be in denial, but I am!”  Chip said with a gleam in his eye.  “If you say you got a transmission that's good enough for me.  Monitor the frequency constantly, I'll go speak with the Admiral.”

 

Chip left with lighter steps.  He didn't care if he was grasping for straws, if there was any chance that Lee was out there he'd take it.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry's face revealed a man in deep pain who had very little sleep of late.  But he too was willing to investigate every avenue of possibility at this point.  It was a dangerous venture to say the least, and he realized that he was setting himself up for a long fall if it turned out to be an unfortunate fluke, but he had no choice but to pursue it. 

 

Harry paced the deck in front of the radio shack when Sparks' face suddenly lit with hope as he turned dials and gains to increase the transmission strength.  He got a fix on the transmission, and handed the coordinates to the Exec as he continued to monitor the frequency.

 

Chip examined the coordinates, Puerto Reina, not that it was a surprise, that's where the plane went down.  But if Lee was burnt beyond recognition, then how did his transponder manage to survive the flames?

 

He was just pondering this when Sparks nearly jumped out of his seat.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee was deposited back onto his cot as he held his mid-section tightly.  He needed rest, but he needed a rescue more, so he reached for his transponder and nearly cried in relief when he felt it under his pillow, just where he left it.  The interrogations were difficult, his captors wanted coordinates for the Underwater Missile Defense System hid in the vast waters of the Pacific Ocean.  Lee had held out through two interrogations, but it was obvious that his captors were willing to continue indefinitely.

 

Lee shook that thought off and connected his makeshift “wire” to complete the current and watched with satisfaction as the green light illuminated.  He sent a thankful prayer heavenward and held the frequency secure for several minutes, then he began to send a short message via Morse code.

 

“M-a-y-d-a-y   S-e-a-v-i-e-w   M-a-y-d-a-y”

 

He sent the message over and over, then held his connection solid as he watched the green light.  If Sparks was reading his transmission, his radio operator would figure a way to send a message back to him, he was sure of it.

 

* * * * *

 

“Admiral!  It's morse code!”  Sparks wrote the message out as Harry read over his shoulder.

 

“We need to know for sure who's sending the message,” Harry had hope, but he needed something solid to fully allow hope to take root.

 

Chip was also camped out at the radio shack as the usual soft noises of a busy Control Room were unusually quiet with the ratings straining to hear what was going on at Sparks' station.

 

“He's wired his transponder, I think I can piggy back his frequency and interrupt the transmission to send him back a message.”  Sparks was working even as he talked, there was no doubt in his mind that he was talking to the Skipper.  He was actually working off a simple principle of radio transmissions.  When one person holds the frequency open to talk, another person can actually cut into that transmission, the result is a squelch.  The squelch was what Sparks was going to use to affect his morse code.

 

“There,” he said, after reworking his controls to achieve the desired effect, “what do you want me to say Sir?”  He said looking up to the Admiral with a twinkle in his eye.

 

“Ask him to identify himself Sparks.”

 

Sparks began sending dots and dashes, “P-l-e-a-s-e  i-d-e-n-t-i-f-y”

 

* * * * *

 

Lee watched as the green light began to flicker, at first he thought his shaky hands were faltering and keeping his connection from sending his transmission, but then he realized that Sparks was answering him.  He momentarily forgot his pain as he tapped out his abbreviated answer.

 

“L-B-C     L-B-C   L-B-C”

 

He transmitted and then held his connection solid so that he could receive his answer from Sparks.  Good ol' Sparks.  He owed him a big fat steak dinner for this one!  

 

He didn't have long to wait before he received Seaview's reply.

 

“O-n   O-u-r   W-a-y,    Y-o-u-r   S-i-t-u-a-t-i-o-n”

 

Lee replied, “P-r-i-s-o-n-e-r”

 

He was fatigued and didn't bother sending the message twice before holding his frequency solid and waiting for his reply.

 

“Y-o-u-r   C-o-n-d-i-t-i-o-n”

 

Lee sighed, and tapped out his reply, “I-n-t-e-r-r-o-g-a-t-e-d”

 

There was a pause and then, Seaview replied,

 

“W-h-a-t   D-o   T-h-e-y   W-a-n-t”

 

Lee thought he heard footsteps and hurried his reply, “U-M-D” but that was all he could send before he thrust his transponder under his pillow and held his mid-section as he was dragged back off to the hated chair.

 

* * * * *

 

Sparks finished writing out the three letters and waited, but the frequency was dead.

 

“Underwater Missile Defense System,” Harry translated.

 

“That's the end of the transmission Sir,” Sparks said, his disappointment visible.

 

Harry patted Spark's shoulder, “You did a fine job Sparks, keep monitoring the frequency and call me when Captain Crane contacts us again, and connect a call for me to Admiral Johnson, ONI.”

 

Sparks nodded, as Chip and Harry moved to the nose.

 

Both Harry and Chip had a new perspective now.  Their roller coaster of emotions was causing quite a stir on their endorphins as the elation of realizing that Lee was alive was countered by the fact that Lee was being tortured for information.  That's what Lee meant when he said he was being interrogated.

 

The transponder had done its job and they had coordinates; with the flying sub they could be there in no time, but Harry knew he'd have to go through channels for this.  If Puerto Reina was indeed holding an American Naval Officer prisoner and torturing him for vital security information, then this whole situation could spell war.

 

“I have your call to Admiral Johnson Sir.”

 

“Put it through here in the Nose, Sparks.”  Chip closed the crash doors and then joined Harry at the end of the conference table to take the call.

 

“Harriman I didn't expect to receive a call from you this early?”  Johnson said curiously.

 

“Gerald, I've just received a transmission on Lee's private Seaview frequency.  He's alive and being held on Puerto Reina.”

 

Johnson's face grew dark, as his eyebrows creased with the new information.  “Are you sure, Harry?”

 

Harry let loose a small smile, “I'm sure.  He rigged his transponder to send messages through morse code.”  Harry's smile turned to a frown, “They're interrogating him, they're after the UMDs.”

 

Johnson's face echoed the seriousness of Harry's last words.  “We need to be sure Harry.  If we go in with a commando team we may invoke a war if the government isn't involved.”  Johnson held up Lee's ring into view of the monitor, “The State Department's convinced that Lee is dead.”  Lee's ring had been returned with the State Department's representative.  There were times when Lee's cover dictated that he leave the ring at home, other times he wore it, but there was no doubt it was his.

 

Harry shook his head in disgust, “While we're being “sure” Lee is being tortured!”

 

“We need to catch them with their hands in the cookie jar Harry, then you can go and get Lee, not before.”  Johnson's head dipped, “Harry, work with me here.  I want Lee back alive too, but if I don't have proof before I act...”  Gerald sighed.

 

“Alright Gerald.  You want their hands in the cookie jar?  It'll cost you a missile location.  It appears that Lee is transmitting in between interrogation sessions.  If he's able to contact us again I'll have him give up a missile, Seaview will be waiting.  If another sub shows up we'll know, maybe not proof who's behind it, but at least we'll have probable cause to raid the location and retrieve Lee.”

 

Gerald nodded and allowed a smile to form.  “Do it Harriman.  I'll await your updates.”

 

Harry nodded and the screen went black.

 

Like Harry, Chip's emotions had been riding the same roller coaster and the conversation with Johnson hadn't helped it any. 

 

“All we can do now is wait Chip,” Harry said as he rubbed the back of his neck.  Wait and hope that Lee is able to make another transmission, he thought silently.

 

* * * * *

 

“We need to do something different,” General Navarro said to Hancock as he watched Lee being placed into the chair and restrained.  “Captain Crane has a high tolerance for pain and his sense of duty is too strong, he needs to be broken.”

 

Hancock raised an eyebrow, “What do you propose General?”

 

“Give him full power,” the General answered quickly and to the point.

 

“How long?”

 

“Until I say stop,” Navarro replied, and then walked towards Lee.

 

“Captain Crane, I'll give you another chance to stop this unnecessary assault on your body.  Give me the locations of the Underwater Missiles and you can rest.”  Navarro added a smile as if he was offering Lee a gift or something.

 

“No,” Lee breathed out and the session began.  The pain racked his body with a deeper intensity than before and he couldn't squelch his screams.   He held onto his honor with only the smallest of hopes that Harry would come for him or that they would finally push too far and end his pain for good.  They continued sending currents of pain throughout his body with only short intermissions for the question and his reply, and then they'd start again.

 

Lee breathed raggedly, as he thought that the session was running longer than the previous ones.  He feared they were going to continue until he broke or was dead.  The way he was feeling, the latter was a distinct possibility.  In a way, maybe even a welcome possibility, but he held onto the hope that the transponder under his pillow had given him.

 

“General,” Hancock called quietly to Navarro.  “If we don't stop now, he won't be able to continue the interrogations.  He's showing signs of multiple internal injuries.”

 

Navarro shook his head in disgust.  He hadn't thought it was possible for the Americano to hold out this long.  “Send him back to his cell,” he said with disdain.

 

Lee needed to hold onto consciousness as long as he could, he needed to transmit again.  He needed to know that a rescue party was coming, because if one wasn't, he was going to let go of hope.  Once he did that, he knew he wouldn't last long before his body gave out on him, at least he would die with his secrets safe.

 

The guards left him on the cot and Lee laid there for about ten minutes unable to roll to his side.  He finally curled and rolled over reaching for his transponder.  His shaky hands were becoming useless, but he supported them as best as he could using the cot and made the connection.

 

He left the transmission solid so that Seaview could transmit a message to him, and was relieved to see the morse code message coming through.  Concentrating was getting difficult, but morse code was like a second language to him and he read it fairly easily despite his handicap of pain.

 

“L-e-e   G-i-v-e    T-h-e-m   U- M-D 37”

 

Lee breathed a sigh of relief, Lee, that was the Admiral talking, but he was confused and hardly able to think with his gut on fire. 

 

He tapped out his concern, “R-i-s-k-y”, and waited for the reply.

 

“C-a-t-c-h    H-a-n-d  N   Co-o-k-i-e    J-a-r”

 

Lee breathed deeply, reining in his strength and replied, “O-K   N-e-e-d    R-e-s-t,” and signed off.  He couldn't hold it together any longer.  Whatever that machine did to him, it did it good.  Lee hid his transponder, afraid he was going to pass out and expose his lifeline to sanity right now.  Then he wrapped his arms around his stomach and let the pain take him to oblivion.

 

It seemed like he barely closed his eyes when the door opened and his guards were dragging him back to the torture chamber.  He was placed in the chair and the guards began to strap him down.

 

“Wait,” he said softly, his voice airy and pained.  General Navarro smiled and walked toward the chair as Lee raised his eyes to him.

 

“Are you ready to talk Crane?”

 

Lee dipped his head and nodded, “I'll need a chart.”

 

Navarro called to his guards, “Help the Captain to the table.”  The General was pleased as the guards helped Lee from the chair to the chart table, his legs barely making movements along the floor.  Lee leaned heavily on the table and reached for a pencil, straining to grab it.  Navarro picked the pencil up and placed it in Lee's hand as he breathed heavily.  He found the coordinates he wanted and marked the spot turning the map toward Navarro when he was done.

 

“That's just one, Captain.  I know your ship placed at least twenty of the missiles.”

 

Boat, Lee thought.  “One's all you need to know that I'm telling you the truth.  You verify it, then we'll talk about more,” Lee’s voice was rough and airy but he spoke with a steeled edge that Navarro responded to. 

 

“All right Crane, I'll send a sub out.  But I warn you, if it's not there I'll put you in that chair and fry you until you're dead,” his dark threat was delivered with equally dark eyes.

 

“It's there,” Lee responded, not letting on his inner fear that the General would make good on his threat, “right now I need rest.”

 

“Are you bargaining with me Crane?  A missile for a little rest?”  he taunted.

 

“It appears the only thing I have left to bargain with is my life,” Lee answered as his legs began to give way.

 

“Very well, Captain Crane.  Guards take the Captain back to his cell, he is not to be disturbed until the sub reports back in.”  He looked towards Lee, “Is that satisfactory Crane?”

 

Lee nodded his affirmative and the guards dragged him back to his cell.  Once inside he curled into a tight ball and reached for his transponder.  He made the connection and waited for Seaview to acknowledge.  Sparks must have been waiting with his finger on the transmitter because his reply came back almost immediately.

 

“S-e-a-v-i-e-w”

 

The dots and dashes were complicated when his hands weren't working and his vision was getting blurry due to the pain, so Lee sent as short a message as he could, “T-r-a-p    S-e-t”.

 

“O-n   O-u-r   W-a-y     H-o-l-d    O-n”

 

Lee sighed in relief and sent out his last message, “H-u-r-r-y”.  He didn't hide his transponder this time.  It was his lifeline, just like the lines attached to the sides of the deck to secure a preserver thrown to a drowning victim.  This transponder had become that tether linking him to Seaview, and he was like a man faltering in the waves of a precarious sea.  He wrapped his hand tightly around the transponder and closed his eyes as he held his stomach tight, expelling blood as he coughed.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry sat in the flying sub submerged with his Special Commando Detail, and waited for Chip to give him the go ahead.  He thought about the last transmission.  Lee.  Mr. I'm Fine, was asking him to “Hurry”...he had to be in bad shape.  He looked at his watch, by now Chip was sitting behind a sea mount near UMD 37.  All he needed was for a sub, any sub to show up.  That's all Harry needed to justify the raid without Puerto Reina's approval.  There were two possibilities, Puerto Reina had kidnapped Lee and staged his death, or perhaps it was a rouge entity acting on their own initiative.  Either way, if a sub showed up it indicated a well-funded movement of some kind.  Harry actually couldn't care less which it was at this point, he was just determined to get Lee back.  So now all he could do was wait.

 

* * * * *

 

Seaview was stationed behind a sea mount waiting to see who was coming to the party.  The boat was on silent running and Chip was anxious, as was the entire crew, for the sub to come along.  He knew the sooner they caught the cookie thief, the sooner the Admiral could move to get Lee.  Still, it was a dangerous game they were playing.  If the sub belonged to Puerto Reina, then Chip knew what he was up against; an aging naval fleet with small submarines that didn't carry enough armament to take down the titanium hull plates of Seaview.  But if someone else showed up, well it could be a whole new ball game.

 

“Contact Sir.  Bearing 1-2-0 relative,” Phillips was manning the Sonar station as Kowalski was on the Commando Detail.  Phillips was a good man, and Chip was pleased for the depth of quality players he had on his team.

 

“Very well.  Patterson, give me her profile.”  Patterson sat at hydrophones and began describing his contact.

 

“Single screw.  Diesel engine, she's traveling at 8 knots and cavitating all the way to the UMD Sir.” 

 

Chip smiled, the sub's profile matched the aging naval vessel he was expecting; time to put the lid down on the cookie jar.  Chip watched over Phillips' shoulder as the sub moved into place over UMD 37.

 

“Blow forward ballast for ten seconds, up bubble 10 degrees,” his orders were repeated by O'Brien and executed with precision as Seaview rose from her secret place to rise above the sea mount and station herself off the starboard side of the smaller submarine.

 

“Sparks, open a channel to our friends out there.”

 

Chip closed the distance as Sparks dialed in the frequency and Chip picked up the mic to speak directly to the sub.

 

“This is Commander Morton of the SSRN Seaview.  You seem to have lost your way, I suggest you blow ballast and meet us topside so we can give you directions.”

 

There was a short silence and then, “SSRN Seaview.  This is La Tiburon.  Our mistake.  We are blowing ballast.”

 

“Very well, La Tiburon.  No need to make any further radio transmissions, we'll be happy to assist you topside.”  Chip's message warning the sub not contact its base was loud and clear as the rogue sub blew her ballast and rose to the top feeling fortunate that they hadn't become a permanent fixture of the ocean floor. 

 

Chip leaned over to Sparks, “Send the message to the Admiral, and then get me ComSubPac.”

 

“Mr. O'Brien, blow ballast and follow her up.” 

 

“Very well Sir.  Blow all ballast tanks, up bubble 10 degrees.” Bobby smiled as he watched his orders executed, they were one step closer to getting back their Captain.

 

A small satisfied smile crossed Chip's face as well, but it was schooled immediately with concern.  Now it was up to the Admiral to bring Lee home.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry received the message from Seaview, “Trap sprung.”  They were in the clear, as far as he was concerned he had his orders to retrieve Lee.  He had the flying sub stationed on the coast, just off shore to the coordinates that Lee's transponder was transmitting.  He surfaced FS1 and disembarked with the Detail, leaving Chief Sharkey to keep her secure until their return.

 

The Detail consisted of Harry, Kowalski, Riley and Rodriguez.  They made their way off the shore and followed their coordinates to a small compound.  There were only a few perimeter guards which they disposed of quickly taking their weapons and tying them securely against trees.  Harry motioned up ahead, as the Detail honed in on one particular building.  Harry suspected that Lee would be in bad shape and opted to leave Riley to guard the entrance taking Kowalski and Rodriguez, knowing that Ron would be able to heft Lee with ease.

 

They entered the building heading directly for the transponder, Harry's receiver guiding him to the signal that was now getting stronger with every step.  They peered around a corner and seeing the way clear, headed toward the door that housed the signal they were following.  Harry opened the door cautiously and found Lee curled into a tight ball facing the wall.  When he turned Lee over he saw pure pain on his unconscious face as Ron Rodriguez lifted Lee like a small boy and carried him cradled in his arms.  In Lee's hand was the small transponder held with a death grip.  Kowalski was guarding the hall and let out a whistle, alerting Harry of approaching unfriendlies.  Ron and Harry exited the room and Kowalski lobbed a hand grenade toward the approaching footfalls in the adjacent hall.

 

As they made their way out, Ski could hear the frantic calls and then sounds of men running in the opposite direction before the grenade exploded.  The cat was out of the bag now, their presence was known, but Harry and Ron were already out of the building with Ski following close behind.  Riley had no trouble keeping the entrance secure as no other guards seemed to be on patrol.  Soon the Commando team melted into the jungle, but not before Harry lobbed a hand grenade into the entrance of the building.  If he had it his way, he would have hunted down the scum who had taken Lee, but right now all he had authorization for was a retrieval.  Still, he hoped that the rubble of the building would slow down the occupants.

 

The Detail moved down to the beach where Chief Sharkey surfaced and Lee was loaded through the side cargo hatch door.  Ron laid him carefully on the bunk, as Ski began taking his vitals and treating him for shock.  Lee hadn't stirred, except to moan in pain.  Harry settled into the pilot's chair and within minutes FS1 took off skimming the water and making record time flying through the air toward Seaview.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry watched Lee as he struggled to wake up.  Lee's eyes fluttered a couple of times and then opened as he focused and then searched the room.  He smiled when he found Harry leaning over the top of him.

 

“Welcome back, Lee.”

 

“Thank you Sir.” Lee looked around and was surprised to be in sickbay.  “I uh...don't seem to recall coming aboard,” he said with a small smile.

 

“You were in pretty bad shape when we found you Lee.  We brought you on board two days ago.  How are you feeling?”

 

Lee let out a small chuckle, “Jamie must have me fixed up pretty good.  I'm not feeling too much of anything right now.”  He was definitely floating on some pretty heavy pain meds at present, and Lee decided that was just fine with him right now.

 

“You've kept Jamie busy.  He's already done several surgeries repairing internal injuries, but you're going to be alright.” 

 

Harry's face was full of concern and relief all at the same time.  For all the pain he, Chip and the entire crew had endured when they thought Lee was dead, it was easy to see that Lee hadn't had it any easier.  Jamie's long laundry list of injuries to Lee's insides had nearly put him over the edge.  He had wanted to return to the compound and blow it smithereens.

 

“General Navarra?”  Lee asked, hoping that he hadn't gotten away.

 

A rogue player, trying to jump start a military coup.  Navarra and his bunch are in custody.  Puerto Reina is cooperating fully with the State Department.”

 

“What about the pilot, Sir?  Captain Gunn sold me out,” Lee said in a tired voice.

 

“Puerto Reina found him in the capital city in a luxury hotel.  He's been turned over to the U.S.  The State Department's jumping head over heels in joy with the cooperation they're getting.  Puerto Reina may not have had good relations with us in the past, but the last thing they want is to feel the full military force of this country coming down on them.”

 

Lee let loose a weak smile, he was floating on too many pain meds to really know if he was alright with the outcome.  He did know that it was good to be back aboard his boat.

 

“What about UMD 37, Sir?”

 

“Chip picked it up after the rogue sub surrendered.  We've already redeployed it to new coordinates.”

 

Harry watched as Lee's eyes began to get heavy. 

 

“Oh, I almost forgot.  This was in your hand when we rescued you,” Harry reached into his pocket pulling out the transponder that had been Lee's lifeline.  Lee reached with a tired hand taking hold of it.

 

“Remind me never to leave home without it,” he quipped with a grin.

 

“I'll make sure of it Lee,” Harry said returning Lee's sentiment.

 

“Come to think of it.  I owe Sparks a steak dinner...”  Lee's voice began to trail off and Harry watched him fall back into a comfortable sleep.  The truth was, nearly every man on the boat had promised Sparks a steak dinner already.

 

He stood at Lee's bed for several minutes, content to watch him sleep.  In his hand, Lee held the transponder.  Lee's fingers closed tightly over the transponder as Harry tried to gently take it from his sleeping Captain.  He chuckled, Lee was out cold, but his reflex to hold onto the transponder was still present even though he was safe aboard Seaview.  Harry smiled and left the transponder in Lee's hand as he walked out of sickbay grateful that he and the crew could put away their black mourning bands.  Seaview had her Captain back, battered for sure, but back just the same.

 

 

 

 

The End

 

Lifeline

    

 

 

*Puerto Reina is a totally fictitious country, any resemblance to a real country is purely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2013, All Rights Reserved

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