This story fits into the 2^nd season time-line.

Obsessive Behavior

by Lynn

Captain Lee Crane lay on the deck, his awareness just now beginning to return. A small moan escaped and his muscles didn't quite work. He rolled his body from his side over to his back and breathed deeply looking up at the overhead bulkhead, trying to make sense out of why he was lying there. His reasoning abilities began to return as he recognized the effects of a nerve gas. His head was still swimming, but he needed to know who had released a nerve gas aboard Seaview and why. He turned back over on his side and raised himself up to a sitting position as he heard a familiar voice over the boat communications. Familiar, but not authorized. What was one of Admiral Nelson's guests doing using the boat intercom?

“Secure the crew and the officers, and find Captain Crane!”

“Yes Sir. Stiles said that he saw Crane heading for the engineering section.”

“Get on it. I want Crane here to watch his torpedoes take out the Diplomat's Ship.”

He used the wall and raised himself up, steadying himself as his muscles began to work again. Lee realized that Seaview had been compromised and that he needed to find a place to evade the hijackers and soon. He moved quietly through the corridor and heard a noise around the corner. He knew he wasn't operating at top form yet, and looked around for a place to hide. He ducked into the mechanic's storeroom and held the door slightly ajar to see who was passing.

A tall brown headed crewman in a red jumpsuit stumbled by and Lee reached out placing a hand over his mouth and dragged him inside the storeroom as the man struggled ineffectually.

“Kowalski, Kowalski,” Lee whispered, “It’s me.”

“Skipper?” Kowalski was still obviously shaken as Lee led him over to a crate and sat him down while Ski steadied himself up.

“What happened Sir? I was just fine, then all of the sudden I'm picking myself off the floor...”

Lee hushed Ski, who was obviously still affected by the gas, “A nerve gas of some kind. Listen Ski, Seaview's been compromised, our “guests” have taken over the boat.”

Understanding began to filter through to Ski's mind as his eyes began to sharpen. He had heard the announcement on the com, but nothing made too much sense at the time. “What do we do Skipper?”

“I heard them talking on the com, they're rounding up the crew. Let's get someplace safe, and then we'll work out a plan.”

“Aye Sir, but where?”

Lee's eyes rose upward toward the oversized ventilator shafts and smiled. He wasn't sure why Admiral Nelson had designed them so big, but they sure came in handy.

“Come on, up here.” Lee helped Ski lift himself up into the shaft, his coordination was returning and Ski began moving with ease. Next Lee hauled himself upwards and closed the vent motioning Ski further back into the shaft just as two unfriendlies entered the storeroom, looked around and then left.

Lee motioned Ski with his head, and silently they moved forward. He needed information, and the best place for that was the Control Room. They moved along stealthily, it was time to find out just what was going on with his boat.

* * * * *

Seaview's XO found himself being hauled up from the deck but the hands were less than helpful that held him up. His body felt like lead, and wasn't obeying his commands yet. His head was fuzzy, but began to clear quickly as he realized that the entire Watch was either lying on the floor or sprawled against their consoles.

Dr. Randall was ordering men about in black jumpsuits, and Chip realized that he didn't recognize any of them. His brain began to sharpen as he remembered the blip that sonar picked up. He was heading toward the mic to inform Lee, when the crew began to pass out at their stations. He raised the mic to his mouth but before he could speak the unknown gas hit his system and he was out before he hit the ground. He lay beside the periscope island with the mic held in his hand until these two goons had come along.

Dr. Randall had only come with two lab assistants, so the rest of these men in black jumpsuits had to have boarded Seaview while he and the crew were out cold on the deck. Chip watched as the Control Room Crew began to stir. Some were hauled up into their chairs, and others were escorted out as intruders manned their stations. He noticed that Sparks was missing from his station in the radio shack and figured that was one of the first stations that the intruders had secured.

His eyes scanned the controls, the fathometer sat at 15 fathoms, 90 feet - periscope depth, which was their last depth reading. He couldn't see their heading from his location but he did note that the boat was at an all stop. He reasoned the boat had been brought to a stop for divers to board. He also realized that the Seaview crewmen left in the Control Room were all sitting at critical stations, indicating the intruders weren't skilled enough in operating a submarine to trust their own men.

Chip's evaluation of the situation was cut short as Dr. Randall's lab assistant Bailey, entered the Control Room ahead of a rumpled and fiery Admiral Nelson, followed by another man in black. His awareness had apparently returned even though his coordination was slower in responding as he spotted Dr. Randall.

“What's going on here Stephen?” His bellow demanding an explanation.

Dr. Stephen Randall let loose a tight smile, “It’s quite simple Harriman, I've commandeered your submarine.”

“You've commandeered...” Harry shook his head in disgust letting his words trail off, “to what end Stephen? What could you possibly hope to gain from this?” Harry was fishing for all the information he could get, and Chip realized that he wasn't as “confused” as he was allowing his captors believe him to be.

“The Diplomat's Ship will rendezvous with the fleet in four hours,” he said checking his watch. “We're going to be there waiting, and sink her to the bottom of the sea.” Randall finished his sentence with a twisted smile.

“I don't understand. The diplomats aren't world leaders, they're representatives of their nations. What could sinking that ship and killing all those people possibly bring about?” Harry was really confused about this, he couldn't figure how the political climate could be altered with this crazy scheme.

“The Diplomat's Ship is being protected by the Pacific Fleet, and will be torpedoed by Seaview a US Navy Reserve submarine. The United States will be blamed by every nation who loses a diplomat. In this one move, I will render the American military as inept in the eyes of the world. The US will lose her place on the Security Council and her influence will be worth nothing in the eyes of billions of people across the world!” He ended his speech with a flare as he raised his hand flamboyantly on the last words.

Harry thought that Randall's plan was a bit far-fetched, he really didn't believe that such a catastrophe would shake the US out of her current position of leader of the Free World; but regardless of the results of this insane plan he couldn't allow all those innocents to die aboard that ship, and certainly not by the weapons of Seaview.

Harry caught the look in Chip's eyes as they both silently agreed that they needed to come up with something fast to prevent this disaster.

* * * * *

Lee and Kowalski moved along quietly and stealthily, aware that movement in the shafts could be heard if they weren't careful. They made their way forward and had to risk a change of vents in order to change decks. Finally, they made their way to the nose shaft and peaked through the vent grill. Lee spotted Chip being held by two unfriendlies. Most of the crew was escorted out, and only a few remained. He didn't know their condition and listened for all the clues he could get.

He was relieved to see Harry brought in, just recovering from the gas but apparently unharmed. He listened to Professor Randall's wild plan and realized that no matter the plausibility of the scheme, this mad man had to be stopped.

Quietly and slowly, Lee moved away from the ventilator grill, realizing that he and Ski were probably the only Seaview men aboard who weren't captured. They needed to disable Seaview, and Lee knew just how to do it.

* * * * *

Lee made his way back to his cabin reasoning that if it had already been searched it would be safe. He needed a place to plan. Kowalski lowered himself down as Lee retrieved his sidearm from his desk drawer, checking his clip. Kowalski moved to the door listening for movement as he spoke softly.

“What are we going to do Skipper?” Ski knew that Captain Crane was working on a plan, he was sure it.

“We need to disable Seaview, prevent her from getting in range of the Diplomat's ship,” Lee explained as he paced the floor, working out his plan.

“I'll make my way to the Reactor's Circuitry Room. I think I can cause a big enough problem to stop the boat. If they're novices, it'll keep them busy for a while; if they're good, they'll be up and running within the hour.” Ski nodded. “You make your way to the main Circuitry Room and reprogram the Automatic Navigator, once they're up and running they won't know which way they're headed, at least not until they check their course.”

Ski smiled, “Where do you want me to point Seaview?”

Lee did some calculations in his head. If he put the Nav computer off course then every nautical mile traveled, every course correction and turn that Seaview made would be affected by the fact that the two navigational aids weren't synchronized.

“Put her fifteen degrees off port, the Control Room Nav computer will calibrate to those settings. That should put us off course from the Diplomat's Ship a good distance,” Lee headed Ski toward the vent, “And Ski, be careful.” The last said with a sincere concern.

“Aye Sir.”

Lee watched as Ski made his way up the shaft, as he too listened by the door. Then he hauled himself up, closed the grill and began making his way to C-Deck, Corridor A. He stopped a time or two as he heard activity in the corridor and resumed again when the way was clear. He made his deck changes successfully and entered into the Restricted Circuitry Room, lowering himself down onto the floor. This room was restricted as the red hatch door accentuated, and just as he figured it wasn't guarded since it was usually unmanned.

Lee made his way over to the panel and began to sabotage his own boat. He needed to be careful not to put into motion a catastrophic event in the Reactor Room, but he was completely familiar with these circuit boards having helped interview the new vendors last year.* He worked quickly, and smiled as the expected results began to manifest itself. Then he backed away and headed to the ventilator shaft to meet back up with Ski.

* * * * *

“We're still looking Professor, but we haven't found any sign of Captain Crane yet,” the intruder in the black jumpsuit reported.

Harry and Chip exchanged glances, but made no other facial expressions. Lee was out there, this wasn't over yet.

Randall pursed his lips tightly and walked over to the chart table picking up the mic and depressing it to broadcast all-boat.

“Captain Crane, this is Stephen Randall. Your boat belongs to me, I suggest you make it easy on yourself and give up now, otherwise you may not like the results of your defiance.”

Randall hung up the mic in a deliberate manner, slamming it down in frustration. He wanted Crane here to see what he was going to do. Crane, the United States Navy Poster Boy for everything he hated about the military and the American way of life. Without thinking, Randall reached for the keys that were attached to his belt. He pulled the keys forward and let them snap back into place. Over and over he handled his keys; it was a compulsive behavior, one that he hardly noticed. One that he did whenever he was agitated or deep in thought.

Just then Patterson, who was left manning the sonar station, noticed a small rise on the Reactor Temperature Gauge situated just above his console. He started to say something and bit back his words as he felt Seaview lunge forward.

Professor Randall regained his balance at the chart table and turned to one of his men, “What's wrong Prescott?”

Prescott looked over the situation gauges and noticed the Reactor Gauge rising, and placed his gun at Patterson's neck harshly.

“Why didn't you report this?” he yelled pointing to the gauge which was moving slightly higher even as they talked.

“What? What is it?” Randall demanded.

“Something's wrong in the Reactor Room, I'll get right on it.” Prescott pushed the gun off Patterson's neck in a threatening manner as he stepped away.

“All Stop,” he ordered, and then headed aft to check Seaview's Reactor.

Harry and Chip watched the scene before them and exchanged knowing glances, both recognizing Lee's handiwork and took satisfaction knowing that Lee had a plan.

* * * * *

Ski was waiting for Lee back in the storeroom where they had first met. It didn't take long for him to look up and see the grill push open as Lee began to make his way down.

“How'd it go, Ski?” he asked as he slid down the wall.

“Fine Sir, they had a guard on the outside, but I was able to put Seaview off course without their knowing it.”

Lee responded with a small but satisfied smile, “Good job, Ski. They should be working on the Reactor problem right now. Once they figure out what's wrong in the Reactor Room they'll have to run Seaview at Full to make up for lost time. At that speed those fifteen degrees should put Seaview far enough off course to put a major dent in their plans.”

Ski smiled back, Captain Crane could think on his feet better than anyone he knew.

“What next Sir?” Ski asked, as Lee paced, obviously in deep thought working up a plan.

“We need to do some recon work. I need to know if Air Revitalization is accessible, and how guarded the Armament Locker is.”

Ski's eyebrows narrowed, as Lee finished explaining, “I need the M4-11s.”

Ski nodded, he was beginning to see where the Skipper was headed. The M4-11 gas canisters that they used to anesthetize large sea life were stored in the Armament Room in a locked cabinet.

“You take Air Revitalization, I'll take the Armament Room and meet back here. Be careful, once they figure out that the Reactor Room was sabotaged they'll be more vigilant to find us.”

“Aye Sir,” Ski nodded as he spoke and headed back into the ventilator shaft.

Lee followed Ski up and they moved along together until they reached a “t” in the shaft as Lee went one way, while Ski went the other. Lee had decided to recon the Armament Room himself. There was a greater chance of it being watched, but if at all possible, he'd needed to grab the gas canisters right then.

He moved along as quietly as he could trying to minimize the shuffle sound that might be heard by the invaders of his boat. When he reached his destination he looked carefully through the grill and smiled. Like the other vital areas of the boat, the room was likely guarded on the outside but empty on the inside.

Slowly he opened the vent and let himself down reaching into his pocket as he crossed the room. He selected the master key to the Armament Locker and opened it as quietly as he could. He picked up a canvas ammo bag and pulled out three canisters, enough to put out a good size whale for ten minutes and placed them inside the vent. Then he shut the cabinet door carefully and climbed back into the shaft pulling the vent behind him.

He worked his way back to the storeroom and found Kowalski waiting.

“What did you find out, Ski?”

“No good Skipper. Air Revitalization is manned by their crew, not ours. We'd have to take them out first.”

Lee nodded, in understanding. “No, we'll lose our advantage if we lose the element of surprise.” Air Revitalization was probably the way the invaders had gassed the boat in the first place, so it was likely they'd be watching the area closely. Lee continued to think through his options and then replied, “Ski, we'll need some emergency rebreathers. Make your way to the safest locker and retrieve at least two, four if you can get them, and meet me back at the Control Room.”

Ski nodded and was up the ventilator shaft in no time as Lee followed. It wasn't enough to throw Seaview off course, they had to take control of her once again. Since his original plan of gassing the entire boat via Air Revitalization was out, he decided to take back the Control Room and seal it off. At least he could shut down the torpedo firing programs from there, and send out a distress call as well.

Lee took his canisters and headed off to the Control Room determined to take back his boat.

* * * * *

Jingle...jingle...snap. Professor Randall had been pacing the Control Room getting more agitated by the moment, his nervous habit sounding loudly his aggravation. Prescott walked back in through the aft hatch and checked the Reactor Gauge. Randall crossed the deck to meet him at the Sonar station, and was satisfied to see the gauge dropping.

“What happened?” Professor Randall inquired.

“Crane. He sabotaged some circuitry, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle,” Prescott bragged. “We'll be back on our way momentarily; it won't be any problem to make up the last hour.” Prescott began issuing orders that were carried out by his own men, Seaview's men having no option but to comply as well. Soon Seaview was on her way again...fifteen degrees off course and running at Full.

Randall was satisfied with Prescott's results, but his mood had grown into a barely controlled rage. Randall's face grew darker as he thought of the one who was causing this disruption in his plans. He was tired of Crane getting in his way, tired of the boy wonder of the Navy always coming out on top. He hated Crane. He had never met him before, never run across him before, but he hated him. Hated him for all he represented. Everything he hated about “freedom” and “capitalism” was embodied in how he viewed Crane.

Randall's hand reached for his keys once again, pulling the keys out of the pulley and allowing them to snap back as he thought. Getting Crane had become an obsession with him. Not for the obvious reason of cleaning up the loose ends of hijacking Seaview, but because Crane represented his hatred for America in general, and the US Military in particular. The keys jingled and snapped back, jingled then snapped back.

He looked across the Control Room floor at the other All-American boy who had been grating on his nerves since he boarded the sub. His perfect blond hair and blue eyes irritating him further. He knew that Crane and Morton were as close as brothers. Nelson he needed, but not Morton. Prescott could handle the boat, Morton would be his means of drawing Crane out into the open.

* * * * *

Lee had made it back to the Control Room vent, placing his canisters safely against the wall and scanning the room for information. He looked at his watch and was surprised that Ski hadn't made it back yet. The M4-11 was useless unless they had the rebreathers. He backed out, hoping to run across Ski in the path he should have taken to get there.

As Lee approached the vent he needed to exit in order to change decks, he got a view of what had hindered Ski's progress. A couple of Randall's men casually leaning against the wall, not in a hurry to be anywhere fast. He needed to draw them away from the corridor, hopefully Ski would see the opportunity and make good the deck transfer.

He was just then working out a possible diversion when he heard his name over the boat com, as Professor Randall's voice reverberated through the ventilator shafts.

“Captain Crane, I warned you that if you didn't give yourself up you wouldn’t like the results. It's you I really want, but since you're not here your Exec will do.”

Lee steeled himself as he heard the telltale sounds of someone taking multiple punches and blows as the Control Room mic was held open. Lee's head hung as he listened to the blows and subsequent grunts escaping from Chip. It was no doubt it was Chip. Everything in him wanted to stop what was happening to his best friend, but he had to stop Randall. The blows went on and on until Lee thought he was going to explode in anger and concern, then it got quiet.

“Give yourself up Crane, or I'll start again on Morton. He doesn't look so good right now, I don't think he'll like round two.”

Lee bit back his anger and looked out the vent at the two guards that were preventing the rescue of his boat. He backed out slowly and quietly, needing a better exit to provide the diversion he needed for Ski.

* * * * *

Chip lay on the deck in a heap, as Harry was kept at a distance unable to help. All he could do was watch as Randall's men held Chip and beat on him unmercifully. Chip took blow after blow to his face and mid-section. They had held him tight even when his legs began to buckle and had continued delivering blows with a punishing force. When his legs gave out completely they let him fall to the ground and continued with kicks to his back and sides. Harry was kept away with a gun to his back and watched as Randall finally called off his goons.

Chip was still conscious but breathing raggedly as he heard Randall make his demands known to Lee. Randall was using him to draw Lee out, and he hated being used to get to his best friend. His thoughts were interrupted as his pain spiked causing a groan to escape as he lay on the floor holding his mid-section. He was aware of someone walking toward him and bending down to speak to him.

“It looks like your “brother” could care less about you Morton. I guess he's going to stay nice and safe while I take it out on your hide.”

Randall's eyes gleamed as his crooked smile erupted into a laugh, but all Chip could do was glare at him as he willed his moans to stay hidden under his attempts to breathe. A couple of broken ribs, he was sure, but something didn't feel right on the inside and he suspected that his kidneys had taken one too many blows.

Randall rose from his gloating over Chip and walked back into the Control Room. Chip watched him leave and then closed his eyes trying to manage the pain, hoping and praying that Lee wouldn't give himself up. If Randall was willing to do this to get to Lee, he could only imagine what he'd do if he got Lee in his clutches. Thinking was getting to be too hard and soon Chip let his body take him into a pain filled sleep.

* * * * *

Lee worked his way back to his cabin and lowered himself down the vent, the sounds of Chip's distress playing over and over in his mind. There was nothing he'd rather do than to give himself up, but that wouldn't protect Chip, his crew, or the hundreds of people on the Diplomat's Ship. No, his duty was to keep Randall from carrying out his plan, and using Seaview to do it.

Slowly he opened his cabin door and peered out. The corridor was empty, so he worked himself out to affect a suitable diversion for the guards. It had to be big enough to move them from their perches, but small enough to not call for reinforcements. So he had brought a handful of ball bearings that sat in a sealed jar on his desk.

It was Chip's sense of humor, a joke about Captain Queeg and his obsessive behavior, namely his habit of compulsively rolling ball bearings around in his hand. Lee's “obsessive behavior” and the object of Chip's joke were his walks about the boat at all hours. He walked for relaxation, to stay in tuned with his boat and her crew, but he also had a sixth sense for feeling for anything amiss on Seaview. His walks were the impetus behind many maintenance projects on the boat. The crew joked that the Skipper could hear a screw loose, or note a bolt out of torque specifications just by looking. Chip chided Lee about having to have his hands all over the boat as if she'd fall apart if he didn't watch out for her. The ball bearings was a joke and all in fun, but Chip knew all too well that the reason Lee was so knowledgeable about his boat and her operations was the fact that he didn't distance himself from the crew and their maintenance projects. The result was a crew who was extremely loyal to their knowledgeable and hands-on Captain. It was good for everyone, but it was also good for a laugh from time to time.

Chip had presented Lee with the ball bearings after they had watched Humphrey Bogart in The Caine Mutiny at a local theater specializing in classic motion pictures. They had shared a laugh, and Lee kept the ball bearings on his desk alongside his pencil holder.

He moved along and made his way back to the corridor he needed to clear. Taking one ball bearing from his pocket, he tossed it across the floor and then retreated to hide behind an adjacent corner. Sure enough, the bouncing ball bearing caught their attention as one of the guards bent down to pick it up. Knowing that ball bearings didn't just roll around a submarine for no good reason, the guards walked in the direction of where the bearing had come from. When they were close enough, Lee tossed another one out and listened as it too bounced along. He heard the guards advancing and allowed a soft but short smile to cross his face.

He moved to yet another corridor, making sure that the way was clear for his little game, and waited until the guards rounded the corner. He could hear them discussing the ball bearings and their curiosity was peaked. He was glad that they were so slough, he didn't think his own crew would have fallen so easily for the diversion. He only hoped that Ski had stayed put waiting for his chance to change decks and move to the safety of the next vent.

Lee pulled himself up the ventilator shaft in the corridor and waited until he heard the approaching steps, then he tossed another ball bearing down the hall and closed the vent grill. He watched from the safety of his vent as the guards rounded the corner and hurried to chase down the bouncing ball bearing. When they cleared the corridor he backed off and headed back to meet Ski.

* * * * *

Randall began to pace the deck in earnest. He had given an ultimatum and Crane had ignored it. Time to raise the stakes, the thought. He looked over at Morton lying on his back on the deck. His eyes were open now, though he wasn't moving, his hand splayed over his stomach as if to protect his sides from further damage.

The Professor moved toward Chip, calling several guards to follow him.

“Pick him up,” he stated flatly, and without concern for the pain of the officer lying on the deck.

“Stephen! Leave him alone!” Harry bellowed, as it became apparent that Chip was about ready to face another round of mistreatment.

Randall chuckled, but there was no humor in his voice or his eyes. “I suggest you keep quiet Nelson, or he may suffer more for your insolence.”

Harry's eyes narrowed and his lips formed a tight straight line as his anger was apparent to even those who didn't know him well. Chip was hoisted up and was practically hanging between the two guards as he struggled to put breath into his lungs. Randall approached him satisfied with the results so far, as he reached for the mic hanging under the video monitor in the nose.

“Crane, listen up. I know you can hear me. Your Exec is in bad shape, and things are about to get worse. He will be beaten until you give yourself up. His blood is on your hands because frankly, I don't think he'll last long.”

With that Randall held the mic open, as his men began delivering more blows to Chip's face and mid-section.

* * * * *

Lee had made his way back to the corridor that had been blocked and watched as Ski stealthily made his way over to the vent. Lee moved further back into the shaft as Ski first put the rebreathers in and then hauled himself up, closing the grill just as he heard the guards making their way back toward the corridor.

They backed off and moved quietly through the vents toward the Control Room. As they crawled, they had to stop for more guards moving through the corridors, they were about ready to proceed onward when Lee heard Randall's threat and then heard the distressed grunts coming from Chip. He didn't sound good. At the rate he and Ski were traveling it would take another fifteen minutes minimum to reach the Control Room, somehow Lee knew that Chip wouldn't last that long. He stopped and considered his next move.

“Ski, the canisters are in place. Take the rebreathers to the Control Room and activate the gas as soon as you can. Then toss the extra rebreathers over to me and the Admiral, we'll hold our breaths as long as we can.”

Ski's eyes narrowed in concern, “Skipper, it's what he wants.”

“I don't have time to argue. I've got to stop this before it’s too late.” Ski nodded, as the sound of the Exec's beating was still being broadcasted over the open mic.

“Now go on,” Lee urged as he moved back to the vent grill. Lee made sure that the corridor was clear and then lowered himself down and headed in a dead run to the Control Room. He couldn't pick up a mic because Randall had it open from his side, so he ran as fast as he could, running straight into patrolling guards. He raised his hands and gave up as they moved him forward.

* * * * *

Chip knew he was in a bad way, the blows to the gut had moved something where it didn't belong and he didn't know how much more he could take. He began to wish he would pass out, but his consciousness held on like a stubborn mule. In his fog he heard Lee's voice.

“Stop Randall. You wanted me, so here I am!” Lee's rage was barely under control as he caught sight of the bloody mess Chip was as the guards lead him through the Control Room.

Randall turned around with a sinister smile on his face, sure of his victory over Crane and enjoying every moment of it.

“So you came after all? I was beginning to wonder,” He taunted as Lee was ushered forward to where Randall now stood at the Chart Table, playing with his keys victoriously. It had been several hours since Lee had arranged for Seaview to take the scenic route and Lee was sure that those fifteen degrees had put the boat off course enough to throw some major curves into Randall's plans.

Lee caught sight of Chip's eyes as he raised his head. He could see Chip's regret that Lee had given himself up, but mostly he saw pain. Chip was still hanging between his captors as Lee spoke.

“I'm here, now get my Exec to Sickbay,” he demanded.

“Morton will remain here Crane, to remind you to cooperate.”

Lee's lips tightened as he looked toward Harry. He didn't seem to be injured although his anger was apparent. They made a brief exchange with their eyes and Harry responded with the smallest of twitches in this mouth. Harry knew that Lee had come with a plan, and he'd be watching for whatever opportunity Lee had arranged.

Randall allowed his men to drop Chip to the floor as Lee made a move toward him, but was stopped by the Professor.

“Now Crane, we're going to blow up that ship with your own torpedoes. Prescott, how long till we reach the Diplomat's Ship?”

Prescott was standing at Sonar behind Patterson trying to figure out why he couldn't see the Pacific Fleet on radar yet. He raised his hand rubbing his chin in deep thought, and walked over to the Nav Computer pressing the button and tearing off the course printout. His eyebrows sharpened, and his mouth tightened as he looked at the course. Then he closed the distance to the chart table in a near panic.

“What is it?” Randall demanded, seeing Prescott's unusual behavior.

“No, NO!” He yelled, looking back up to Randall's impatient inquiring eyes.

“We're off course. We're nowhere near the Diplomat's Ship.”

Lee allowed a small smile to cross his face as his plan to put Seaview off course had worked perfectly. Randall caught it and backhanded Lee across the cheek causing a small trickle of blood to run down the corner of his mouth.

“What did you do Crane?”

“You're running the boat, ask Prescott here,” Lee said taunting in his defiance.

Lee's guards held him tightly as Randall began delivering devastating blows to Lee's face and midsection until a clank sound was heard and a canister of gas began to discharge its contents in the nose. Another clank was heard as another canister rolled into the Control Room.

Lee held his breath and used the diversion to land first an elbow to one guard's gut and then the opposite elbow to the other's chin. He looked toward the vent grill as Ski tossed him a rebreather. Harry had acted in like manner and was soon donning his own breathing device. The gas was already doing its job as the guards began to fall holding their throats as they tried to avoid breathing the offending gas.

Prescott made a run for the aft hatch but only made it as far as the radio shack before falling forward on the deck. Randall turned at the sight of the first canister and raised his gun toward Lee just as he positioned the mask to his face. He shot in his rage and Lee felt the bullet crease his right arm, but ignored it as he lunged for Randall.

Lee swung connecting with Randall's chin, first with his right fist and then with his left. He had Randall up against the Chart Table and continued firing off blows one after another as Randall's face was whipped first one direction then the next. Lee kept swinging until he felt Harry pull him away as Randall slid down the Chart Table, his keys jingling as he fell. Lee breathed deeply and composed himself, then reached down to pick up Randall's dropped gun.

“Ski, dog the aft hatch,” Lee ordered as he continued to work through his plan of regaining control of Seaview. Only the Control Room had been taken, and there were still unfriendlies throughout his boat to neutralize. Harry removed his breather and Lee followed suit as he and Ski gathered up the intruders and their weapons.

Lee opened up the arms locker and tossed handcuffs toward Kowalski, “Make sure they don't go anywhere Ski.”

Kowalski nodded as Lee ran toward Chip. He looked bad, real bad. He needed to get the boat secured before he could get Chip to Sickbay and looked up as Harry knelt down as well. There was a brief exchange of concerned looks between the two of them as Lee rose to execute an “all stop” on the boat's forward motion. Harry joined him at the Chart Table as Lee compared the Nav readout to the charts and pointed to their position.

Harry smiled, “You reset the Automatic Navigator in the Circuitry Room.” It was a statement, not a question and Lee allowed the smallest of smiles to cross his face, but it faded quickly as he heard Chip begin to regain consciousness.

“We need to secure the boat,” Lee stated as he moved to the vent and pulled down the third canister and then to the arms locker pulling out a laser gun. “Ski, you stay here with the Admiral and hold the Control Room.”

“Where are you going Lee?” Harry inquired wanting to know the details of Lee's plan.

“To get my boat back, Sir.”

Lee left up the spiral stairs as Harry allowed a small tight smile to penetrate his face. His boat, he chuckled inwardly, and shook his head as one by one he began to help Seaview's crew back into their chairs.

* * * * *

Lee ascended the spiral stairs and moved along the corridor listening for the patrols he had spotted while traversing the ventilator shafts. He heard footfalls and held the laser gun ready to fire as he leaned against the wall. Quickly he peered around the corner and fired, taking one intruder down, he fired again but the second intruder got a shot off. The shot went wide as Lee fired once again taking the second intruder down as well.

He collected their guns and moved forward toward the crew's quarters, where a guard stood outside the door with his weapon drawn having heard the gunfire. Lee fired and the guard fell in an unceremonious heap as Lee relieved him of his sidearm and stuffed his collection of guns in the laundry room across the corridor. He didn't know how many guards were holding his men on the inside, so he popped the canister and threw it in placing the breather back over his head as he followed the canister in firing at anyone wearing a black jumpsuit.

Some of his crew fell to the gas, others scurried for their personal rebreathers but in the surprise attack, Lee had managed to take out four intruders and had gained a few Seaview crewmen for his next assault. His arm was stinging from the bullet crease and bleeding some, but he ignored it as Chief Sharkey pulled off his rebreather.

“Boy Skipper, it's sure good to see you!”

“Thanks Sharkey. There are guns in the laundry room. You men arm yourselves and round up the other intruders in the corridor. Should be three of them. Then secure the way to Sickbay.” Lee looked around the crew's quarters...no officers. He surmised that they had been kept separate and guessed that they were in the wardroom, a place large enough to hold twenty-five men with guards.

“Riley you and Rodriguez are with me.” Lee turned to leave as Sharkey made a quiet inquiry.

“Skipper, what about Mr. Morton?”

Lee sighed and addressed Sharkey quietly, “He needs Doc Jamieson.” Then he turned his attention back to his small assault team. “Alright men, let's go!”

Lee, Riley and Rodriguez made their way through the corridor and down the stairs to the next deck and then onto the wardroom. They peered around the corner spying the guard stationed at the door. Lee took aim and they watched him fall. Quickly Riley and Rodriguez pulled the guard from the door and secured his weapon.

“Do we go in guns a blazing Sir?” Riley asked, his blue eyes expressing concern.

Lee reached into his pocket and smiled. “Riley,” he said as he pulled out a handful of ball bearings, “take to the ventilator shaft and drop these onto the floor in exactly five minutes. That'll be our diversion. I'll take out as many as I can with the laser, I don't want to take a chance of our men catching it in the cross fire. You two be ready to clean up what's left.”

Riley and Rodriguez both nodded as they synchronized their watches. Lee and Ron stood on each side of the door waiting as they checked their watches again and Lee nodded. He placed his hand on the door handle and studied his watch straining to hear. It was time; he burst open through the door as three black clad bad guys huddled around the vent grill trying to figure out where the ball bearings came from.

Lee stormed in shooting and soon they were all neutralized.

“Skipper!” Jamie called out. Lee had a bruise high on his cheek bone and blood running from the side of his mouth. His arm had stopped bleeding but was obviously in need of care.

“I'm fine Jamie. I need you in the Control Room, Chip's bad.”

Jamie nodded as Lee continued, “Ron escort the Doc back up while we secure the boat.”

* * * * *

Ron escorted Jamie through the boat and met up with Chief Sharkey along the way.

“Chief, I need my medical bag,” Jamie instructed, “on the shelf behind my desk.”

“Aye Sir, I'll meet you in the Control Room.”

They proceeded on and entered the aft hatch which was manned by Seaview crew at this point. Jamie hurried in and found Chip lying on his back in the nose. He sized up the beating and the possible injuries even as he approached him. Chip was breathing raggedly as Jamie knelt down beside him taking his pulse.

Chip's eyes fluttered open as he spotted Jamie and let out a moan.

“Easy Chip. Don't talk, just concentrate on breathing.” Jamie heard footfalls behind him and turned to see Sharkey as he placed his bag on the deck beside him.

“Admiral, I'll need to transport Chip as soon as Sickbay's secure.”

“Chief?” Harry asked turning to Sharkey, his one word a complete question.

“The Skipper's cleaning house right now Sir, but the way to Sickbay is clear,” Sharkey nearly beamed as he reported.

* * * * *

Chip started waking, and knew immediately that he wasn't in his bunk. He could smell alcohol and witch hazel and realized that he was waking up in sickbay. It took a little longer to remember why as he blinked his eyes open seeing the bottom of the bunk overhead. He heard papers rustling to his left and tilted his head over to see Lee sitting with a clipboard and working on a report.

“Hey,” Chip said groggily as Lee's head rose and greeted him with a soft smile.

“Hey Chip, how are you feeling?”

“Not bad,” he said as an airy moan escaped, “how long have I been goldbricking?”

Lee smiled, “About six hours. You've been awake a couple of times, but not too lucid.”

“So everything's alright?” Chip's head was heavy, and the pain medication was leaving him feeling slightly floaty at present.

“The boat's secure, the prisoners have been transferred and we're headed home.” Lee was sporting a nice shiner high on his right cheek bone, his bandaged arm was hidden under his khaki uniform, but other than some sore ribs he was feeling pretty good, especially since Chip's prognosis had been a positive one. Jamie had repaired the internal damage and was monitoring Chip for complications due to bruised kidneys, but with plenty of rest Chip was expected to make a full recovery.

“When I'm a little more awake, I'd like to hear how you pulled it off.” Chip's voice was husky and tired sounding but he gave a half smile even as his eyes got heavy again.

“Let's just say that Queeg's ball bearings came in handy.”

Lee registered the confused look in Chip's face that faded to a relaxed state as he drifted back off to sleep. He had been cleaned up, but his face still looked like he went the distance with Smokin' Joe Frazier. Still, it was a relief to know that Chip was going to be alright. Lee's thoughts were interrupted by a soft hand on his shoulder.

He turned to see Harry and smiled, satisfied that his boat had weathered and won yet another attempt at a hostile take-over.

“Chip's resting, and so should you Lee.” Harry's suggestion was more like a quiet order and Lee nodded and stood to leave.

They walked back to Officer's Country as the corridors were half lit simulating night aboard the sub.

“You know Sir, I never did figure out why Randall hated me so much,” Lee said in comfortable conversation.

“I'm not sure it was you personally Lee. He seemed to be obsessed with hating anything that reminded him of what he considered to be American. He seemed to transfer that obsession to you; perhaps he saw your sense of duty and recognized your strong allegiance to your country. It’s hard to figure a demented mind like his.”

Lee nodded. He was just glad that Randall's obsession hadn't cost Chip his life. As he walked, he noticed that though he was feeling a little tired, he was still considerably wound up. He stopped as he reached the corridor to his cabin, and addressed Harry.

“Good night Admiral.”

Harry responded in kind and Lee entered his cabin knowing that rest was in order. He dropped his clip board on his desk and caught sight of the jar beside his pencil holder. The ball bearings he had used to distract guards and set up diversions had been picked up and returned to their place on his desk. A smile crossed his face as he picked up the jar, and remembered Chip's original joke.

Nothing like a little obsessive behavior to make a Captain sleepy, he thought. So he returned the jar to his desk and left his cabin for a little walk about his boat.

The End

Obsessive Behavior

*An itty bitty plot bunny dropped from my story “Marathon”

Author's Note (and just for fun) – There were actually four “obsessions” written into the story. Did you catch them all? 1) Randall's keys, 2) Randall's hatred for Lee, 3) Queeg's Ball Bearings, 4) Lee's walks about his boat

Copyright 2013, All Rights Reserved

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