A second season story.

 

Of the First Water

 

by Lynn

 

 

Clifford Grant sat in the nose of the great submarine the Seaview with his notes splayed across the conference table before him.  His eyes were focused across the Control Room floor as Captain Lee Crane made a circuit around the duty stations.  His confident strides, easy command style, and overall command presence was impressive.  Over the course of the three week mission Clifford had witnessed his competency at commanding the submarine along with the loyalty of his crew as he easily interacted with the ratings and officers alike.  Crane was a man at the top of his game, and that disturbed Clifford Grant.

 

He had been keeping tabs on Captain Crane for over a year now, doing his research and waiting for the right moment.  Crane was good at what he did, but the man was an underwater bus driver and nothing of the calibre of man that he was!  Crane and Grant were nearly the same age and in Grant's mind, Crane's success accentuated his failure.  Here Crane was, only thirty-two years old; the youngest Commander in the Navy and commanding the greatest submarine in the world, and here Grant was... an Assistant Researcher.  He wasn't even in charge of his own project yet.  It grated on his nerves, as did the young captain completing his circuit around the Control Room.  Grant had something to prove and very soon he'd get his chance.

 

Grant diverted his eyes away and appeared to be working on his notes as Captain Crane rounded the Chart Table and busied himself there.  Grant took one last look over at Crane and then smiled knowingly.  It wouldn't be long and then he would be at the top of his game.  He knew it would be risky, but well worth his trouble and maybe... just maybe he'd take the Captain down a few notches in the process.  Grant's smile widened as he continued organizing Dr. Wells' notes.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee made his way around the Control Room scanning the situation lights and taking the time to discuss the various stations with the ratings.  The cruise had been uneventful and Lee had been satisfied with how Seaview and her crew had responded.  The sample retrieval had been flawless and expertly handled by Seaview's divers and the sub was performing at her peak. 

 

He worked his way back to the Chart Table and began working on his next course correction.  He had just finished scribbling off the new course when he heard clicks signaling the rapid descent of steps down the spiral stairs.  Lee raised his eyes and smiled pleasantly at the creator of Seaview and his “guest.”

 

Admiral Harriman Nelson descended into the Nose with the excitement of a kid going out to play.

 

“Lee, the samples are even more promising than we thought!” Harry exclaimed, feeling that the plankton for food theory might really come to reality this time.  Dr. Wells was working on advancing the late Dr. Karl Riesner's idea of plankton being harvested to end the type of starvation he had witnessed during World War II.**  It was a study that Harry had continued to work on even since Riesner's passing last year. 

 

Lee was truly pleased with the possibilities of the plankton research, Harry had taken Dr. Riesner's theory and had led the project towards looking at plankton being used as a catalyst that would aid wheat and barley growth in what would have otherwise be ungrowable conditions.  If they were successful, they could help third world countries to develop the crops for their own natural environments.

 

“Oh and Lee, when we reach Dr. Wells' estate he has invited you, Mr. Morton and me ashore for a celebration of sorts.”  Harry was quite pleased with the mission and his association with Dr. Wells, he had been as excited as Lee can remember and so he smiled politely in response.

 

“Thank you, Dr. Wells.  It will be our pleasure.”

 

“Wonderful, wonderful.  Ah, Clifford I see you're nearly done with my notes.  I have these to add to your pile,” Dr. Wells said bringing his stack of notes over, the errant edges sticking out in all directions.

 

“Of course, Dr. Wells,” Grant replied, his cool remark was accompanied by tenseness in his eyes as if receiving instructions for his duties was difficult.  Something no one seemed to notice but Lee, it was curious but not necessarily his concern.

 

* * * * *

 

Seaview arrived at Dr. Wells' estate off the western coast of Scotland.  The family estate had been passed down for generations and held an impressive medieval feel.  The stone walls were ancient, but in good repair.  The walk from the dock where FS1 was berthed was like a walk through history, and Lee couldn't help but be impressed.  The grounds were a lovely green, just as one might expect to see in this fair country.  But the mansion, more like a castle of old, was definitely the highlight.  It was just like a step back through time with the interior exhibiting the same historic flavor as the grounds.

 

“Your home is beautiful, Dr. Wells,” Lee said politely as he looked with interest at the oil paintings of the many Wells' ancestors hanging on the stone walls. 

 

“Thank you, Captain Crane.  It has been in my family for generations.” Phineas Wells smiled and ushered his guests forward from the large foyer to a sitting room.  “I've instructed my cook to prepare a traditional Scottish meal for you.  Something to add to the flavor of the surroundings,” he beamed.  Dr. Wells' accent wasn't very heavy as it was evident that he had spent a great deal many years abroad for his work.  But here in the castle, his accent seemed to become thicker with each phrase spoken adding validity and flare to the surroundings.

 

“Dr. Wells?” Grant inquired, speaking with a voice inflection that appeared as false respect to Lee but apparently went unnoticed by Dr. Wells.

 

“Yes, my boy?”  He replied, using an innocent term of familiarity not meant to be demeaning in any way.

 

“I think I'll retire to my room and finish sorting through your notes.”

 

“Of course, Clifford, of course.  We will take supper at 6:00.”

 

Grant nodded his response adding a small strained smile and turned for the staircase as the Seaview officers and Dr. Wells continued visiting below.  He stopped just a moment on the staircase as his calculating eyes surveyed the scene below, then he allowed a small smile to appear and continued his ascent to his room.

 

* * * * *

 

Dinner was served in the castle's formal dining room by Dr. Wells' efficient but small staff.  The Aberdeen Angus beef had been especially tasty as well as the traditional neeps and tatties,*** as Lee took in the pleasant meal and surroundings.  He was somewhat of a student of history and enjoyed the rich flavor of the old Scottish castle. 

 

The group retired to the drawing room where Dr. Wells offered the officers a glass of traditional Ginger Wine.  A servant poured the glasses and offered the wine to the officers as they withheld from tasting until they could toast.

 

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Wells said jovially, “Good health!”

 

Lee, Harry and Chip returned the traditional Scottish toast as they raised their glasses, “Good health!”  They repeated in unison and took a drink of the sweet ginger root and raisin wine fortified with brandy.    They sipped politely as Dr. Wells and Harry continued their excited exchange over the results of their recent samples and tests.

 

Lee walked around the drawing room admiring the antique books on the large bookshelf that spanned an entire wall. 

 

“I see you have an appreciation for Dr. Well's substantial library,” Clifford Grant said as Lee passed his empty wine glass off to the server.

 

“Yes, some of his titles are fascinating,” Lee replied in pleasant conversation. 

 

“He has one here on the Conquistadors,” Grant said reaching across and pulling an old leather bound book from its place.  “I've always found the stories of their conquering quests to be fascinating.  They knew what they wanted and took it.”  Grant finished as Lee's eyebrows sharpened slightly at Grant's last comment.  It seemed a bit forward and his tone revealed a passion that Lee recognized as ambition, perhaps maybe even an unhealthy one.

 

“Well, those days of conquering people, their lands and their wealth are thankfully over,” Lee replied politely.

 

“Are they, Captain?” Grant responded, his words now dripping with ambition.

 

Lee was surprised at Grant's comments.  It wasn't necessarily Grant's words alone that set alarms off, it was his underlying tone that was increasingly losing its subtleness.  He suddenly began to feel quite hot and without thinking raised his hand to his face, rubbing his temple.  He lowered his hand watching it shake uncontrollably.  He started to turn toward Harry and faltered barely keeping upright.  His vision was beginning to blur but he caught Chip looking equally distressed across the room.  Lee took a step toward Harry, who by now was being held at the elbow by several of the servants as Dr. Wells fell to the floor.

 

“What's the meaning of this?” Harry bellowed, not affected by the drug that was obviously administered to Dr. Wells, Lee and Chip.

 

His question was ignored as Clifford Grant addressed Lee who was barely standing with one hand steadying himself against the bookcase.

 

“As I said, Captain,” Grant said, moving to stand directly in front of Lee.  “The Conquistadors knew what they wanted and took it.  They took the spoils from the weak and turned their captives into slaves.”

 

Lee was barely standing at this point, his eyes squinting to stay focused.

 

“I'm a Conquistador,” he said triumphantly.  “And I'm going to expose you Crane for the weak man you really are.  Your friends will live and die at my command; your submarine now belongs to me; and your life belongs to me.”  With that he wheeled back landing a solid blow to Lee's jaw sending him sprawling to the floor unconscious.

 

“Lee!” Harry called out, but held sufficiently in place by his captors and a drawn handgun.

 

Chip took a step and faltered, falling to the floor as his eyes fluttered and then closed.

 

“What's going on?”  Harry demanded.

 

Grant composed himself and turned toward Harry, “I have a job for your submarine, Admiral Nelson.  And now that I have your Captain and First Officer here as hostages, I'm sure you'll have no problem complying with my demands.” 

 

 “If you think you're getting hold of Seaview you're sadly mistaken, Grant,” Harry warned.

 

“You're in no position to give ultimatums, Nelson,” Grant said darkly.   “I worked for Dr. Wells for the last year working well beneath my abilities just to get to your submarine,” he continued.  “I've done my research, I know full well that other than your sister you have no family and that your officers and crew are your family.  I'm also aware that you and Captain Crane are as close as brothers.  Now since your sister is currently out of my reach on an African Safari, I'll have to settle for Crane and Morton.  If you don't believe my resolve, I'll kill one and still have the other to keep as a hostage.  Now,” he added coolly, “You will listen to my demands.”

 

As he finished Harry was moved to a winged back chair and forced down as Lee and Chip were dragged from the drawing room.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee's awareness began to return as he felt himself being dragged by two men.  His eyes fluttered open but he still didn't have the strength to deal with his guards as they dumped him onto the floor and he heard the clanking of the cell door locking behind him.  He was lying on his side and blinked again as the drug began to dissipate slowly.  As he lay there he worked to bring the events of this evening sharply into focus.  His vision was clear now, and though he felt a little strange from the after-effects of the drug he was now at least in control of his body movements once again.

 

He moved to sit up looking over his cell as he pushed himself into a sitting position.  A long narrow, stone-walled cell with a barred doorway leading to a long covered court-yard on one end and a barred window on the other.  His cell was illuminated by the pre-dusk light from a single bare light bulb fixated flush on the ceiling.  Lee checked his equilibrium and slowly stood as another round of the dizziness assaulted his head.  He recovered and moved around the cell, checking the soundness of the door and the window then moved back to sit against the wall with his forearms resting against his drawn up knees.  He wasn't going anywhere soon.  There wasn't anything to do but wait until an opportunity presented itself with his captors.

 

* * * * *

 

Chip's awareness began to return slowly as he felt a gentle breeze flow across his face.  He realized he was half sitting and half lying on a cool stone bench as his eyes fluttered open.  The events of the evening replayed before him as he pushed himself to a sitting position and gained his equilibrium, blinking back the tiny strands of fuzziness still making themselves known.  He'd been drugged.  He sat with his head leaning back against the cell wall and his eyes closed for a moment, trying to bring his body into compliance with his will.

 

Chip ran a tired hand across his eyes focusing on his current situation, his awareness returned sharply as he took in his surroundings.  If this is a cell, it's certainly not escape proof, he thought as he took in the barred door with its ample space under the archway.  The stone-walled cell led directly into a garden and the only thing Chip could figure was that they wanted him to escape.  Still, he wasn't going to stay here any longer than necessary, he needed to find Lee and Harry, and he needed to know just what this mess was all about.

 

By the looks of the shadows being cast by the setting sun he knew that he hadn't been out that terribly long.  He had to take a chance on an escape and hope that he could get to Harry and Lee before Clifford Grant continued with whatever his plans were.  Chip stood, checking his steadiness and moved forward to the garden gate.  He stepped up on the ornamental bars and began to work his way over the top of the garden gate sliding under the open archway.  He cleared the pointed bar tips easily and slid down the outside of the garden gate landing on the grass quietly.  Now he just needed to find Lee and Harry. 

 

He figured Lee must be somewhere near and moved to begin a methodical search of the area.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry was sitting in the fine wing back chair which matched the tapestry of the drapes hanging on the large windows in the drawing room.  Clifford Grant paced the floor taking on a commanding demeanor.

 

“As I said, Admiral, I have need of your submarine and with your command crew locked safely away, I'm quite sure that your junior officers won't give me any trouble,” he said confidently.

 

Harry figured he needed to get to the specifics of his demands, so he reined back his anger and replied evenly.

 

“And just what do you need my submarine for?”

 

“A little mining job,” he answered with a smile that was filled with ambitious intent.

 

“And just what will we be mining?”  Harry inquired, hinting that he had already given in.

 

“Diamonds,” he answered triumphantly but then continued.  “You see there's a shipwreck lying three hundred fathoms below, it went down with ten million dollars in uncut diamonds.  Untraceable, and ready for the taking.”  He caught Harry's look of disbelief and continued, “Oh, I understand a diver will have to use full environmental gear to retrieve it at eighteen hundred feet, but I understand you have several divers qualified to do so.”

 

“Yes, and you've got two of them here,” Harry answered pointing out a flaw in his plan as Dr. Wells began to moan, coming out of his drugged state slowly.

 

“I'm aware of that,” he continued, completely ignoring Dr. Wells as he turned over from his stomach to his back, “But you also have Seaman Kowalski and Chief Sharkey, both are qualified to make the dive,” he answered indicating with a smirk how well he had done his research.

 

“I'm aware I could have hired a vessel but then I'd have to file for salvage rights and most probably fight with the Spanish government to keep my prize; not to mention the taxes that will suck away at my profits,” he added, pleased with the details of his plans.

 

“Now, I could prove to you my resolve to get what I want with Morton,” he continued.

 

Harry's eyebrows rose in question as Grant moved toward a window facing the garden.  A stone wall stood perpendicular to the house and traveled from the house to the far end of the garden; at the end was a rod iron gate.  Harry's eyebrows sharpened as he saw Chip's telltale blond hair climbing over the top of the gate.  Harry's guards held him tight as one of Grant's hired thugs produced a rifle, raised the drawing room window and positioned himself to fire.

 

Harry started to warn Chip but found a handkerchief being thrust into his mouth as Chip began to move towards another rod iron gate closer to the house. 

 

“The shoulder,” Grant said as the gunman nodded in obedience.  A moment later a shot reverberated through the air and Chip fell hard.

 

“You see Nelson, I'm not afraid to do what's necessary to get what I want.  At this range, I'd say your first officer has two holes in his shoulder.  If you want him to receive the care he needs I suggest you begin to cooperate, otherwise I can begin on your Captain,” he finished triumphantly.

 

The handkerchief was removed from Harry's mouth as he nodded in the negative, “That won't be necessary Grant.  But I won't authorize anything until I know where we're going, and you'll get nothing from me if Morton isn't treated,” he finished with resolve.

 

“I'll overlook your demanding tone Nelson.  You're an Admiral and used to giving orders, but let's get something straight... I give the orders now and I hold all the cards.  Don't try anything with me or I'll start in with your Captain and believe me, I have lots of ideas for how to make him suffer.”

 

Harry nodded as he watched across the garden grass as several men reached Chip and picked him up by the shoulders and feet.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee hadn't been sitting too long against the wall when he heard the loud report of a rifle shot, he moved toward the window using the bars to pull himself up to see out.  His heart skipped a beat when he saw Chip curled in pain on the grass, blood seeping through both sides of his shoulder.

 

“Chip!”  Lee called but got no answer.  “Chip!”

 

He continued to call until several minutes later when two men came and picked Chip up carrying him roughly by the shoulders and feet toward the castle.  He called again as he leaned his head against the rock and slid down the wall to face the iron barred door in front of him.  A rifle carried high caliber ammunition and he couldn't help but fear the worst for his best friend and brother, his eyes closed as he said a desperate prayer for Chip.  He remembered Grant's threat against his friends and wondered just what Grant might do to break him.  The dread of the moment was accentuated when the dusky evening sun began to set in earnest as his light turned off and his cell darkened before him. 

 

He continued to sit there when he realized that he had let the dread of the gunshot overtake him, it wasn't like him.  He realized that perhaps the residue of the drug had temporarily left him off balance and took a deep breath.  He stood shaking off the momentary fear and made his way to the iron gate on at the opposite wall as he refocused himself.  It was dark now, but he worked good in the dark.  He wasn't defeated, or broken.  His friends needed him and so did Seaview; time for another miracle escape.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry watched as Chip was picked up and carried toward the house, the blossom of blood on his shoulder growing at an alarming rate.

 

“Help Dr. Wells up,” Grant ordered as his men hastily complied.  “He is well able to administer the first aid required for your First Officer, Nelson.”

 

Harry agreed.  “I want to see him,” Harry demanded.

 

Grant held the superior tone he had adopted since his takeover began and thought about his answer.  “You'll see him later, right now you and I have plans to make.”

 

* * * * *

 

Chip was taken to an upstairs bedroom and placed on a bed, his awareness having returned at the pain of the movement.  Dr. Wells entered the room and shook his head at the amount of blood Chip had lost.  A first aid kit was placed on the night stand beside the bed as the guards left, leaving Wells to care for his patient.

 

The castle had of course, been remodeled to include modern niceties and so Dr. Wells retrieved a wet wash rag placing it on Chip's forehead blotting away the sweat.

 

“What do you know of Captain Crane and Admiral Nelson,” Chip croaked out as Phineas worked off his tie and opened his shirt to work.

 

“I haven't seen Crane, but from what I overheard, he's unharmed.  Admiral Nelson was in the drawing room when I left and is in good health,” Phineas answered as he worked on applying a compress to Chip's shoulder.

 

“What does he want?” Chip asked, looking for information, not that he thought he could act upon anything at this moment.

 

“I was unconscious for most of the time, but I did hear Clifford say something about using your submarine to retrieve diamonds lost at sea.”

 

Chip took a deep breath and grimaced slightly. 

 

“I'm sorry Mr. Morton...”

 

“Chip...just Chip.”

 

Phineas nodded and continued.  “I can't believe I was fooled so long by him.  I had no idea he was the man I saw down there in the drawing room,” he added regretfully.

 

“Not your fault,” Chip replied, “He fooled a lot of people.”

 

“Still...” Phineas let his sentence drift off for a moment.  “I seem to be of no concern to him,” he said as he applied the tape to Chip's dressing, “Perhaps I can help.”

 

Chip nodded his head, as Phineas reached for the acetaminophen shaking a few out into his palm.  “I'm sorry I don't have anything stronger.”

 

He helped Chip sit to take the pills and leaned him back on the pillows as Phineas covered him with a quilt. 

 

“He'll have the phones covered,” Chip reasoned.  “How far to your nearest neighbor?”

 

“I'm afraid nearly ten miles.”

 

Chip was getting drowsy, the blood loss costing him just now.  “Could you get to the Flying Sub?”

 

“It's possible.  I'll certainly try.”

 

“Only if it's safe, Doc.  But if you can reach it you could use the radio.”  Chip's voice was becoming breathy as he fought the coming darkness.  He proceeded to give Phineas the code to enter the Flying Sub and then fell into a deep sleep.

 

Phineas took a deep breath and felt Chip's head.  He was already getting warm, he needed better medical care than a first aid kit and an oceanographer could give him. 

 

* * * * *

 

Harry watched as Chip was carried upstairs, his face looking pasty and white. 

 

“Now Admiral Nelson, let's plan out our cruise,” Grant said with complete confidence and clearly enjoying his current place of power.

 

Harry turned toward Grant, his mouth pursed tightly.  He needed to buy time, so he decided to play a defeated man, willing to turn over his submarine to the ambition of the man before him.

 

“I'll need coordinates and a sea chart,” he conceded regretfully.

 

Grant called for one of his men who produced a sea chart placing it on the table in the middle of the drawing room.  He motioned Harry over and leaned over the chart with both hands lying on the table.

 

“You've heard of the Lost Diamond Mines of the Pedernals?” Grant stated rather than asked.

 

“Diamond mines said to be somewhere in New Mexico, mined by the Southwestern Indians,” Harry answered.

 

“Very good, Nelson.  Traders were said to have emerged with samples of the diamonds over several centuries, but the mines were never found... or so the legends say,” he smiled at his last comment.

 

“You see Nelson, Oceanography isn't my only interest.  I have a deep fascination for archeology,” he stated as he began to circle the room in a pace.  “I ran across something interesting on a dig of a Southwestern Spanish Mission.  I found a hidden vault with a letter outlining the story of Conquistadors who found the mine and traded with the Indians for a substantial amount of uncut diamonds.”

 

Harry shook his head and nodded in the negative.  “You abducted and assaulted my men based on a myth of lost treasure?” He said in disbelief.

 

“Is this a myth?” He said in a cool calculating tone as he produced a rather large uncut diamond.  It glistened in his open palm and caught the light at all its many points.

 

“This diamond was left with the priest after he 'blessed' their voyage as a token of the Conquistador's promise to turn the diamonds over to King and Church.  Two ships sailed back to Spain, the Santa Reina held the bounty of the diamonds; her sister ship El Caballo Dorar, was completely unaware of the treasure.”  He explained as he circled the room, speaking as he paced.

 

“The ships were in a terrible storm, the Santa Reina floundered and sunk.  Only a few sailors were rescued by her sister ship, and the secrets of the diamonds went down with the Santa Reina.”  He stopped pacing and turned toward Harry victoriously.

 

“But I tracked down the records of El Caballo Dorar and found the coordinates where Santa Reina sunk,” Grant delivered smugly and obviously pleased with his own cleverness.

 

He moved closer to Harry holding the diamond up to the light between his forefinger and thumb.

 

“Do you know how diamonds were assessed for quality and value in ancient times, Nelson?”  He asked rhetorically, ready to proceed no matter Harry's response and continued without waiting.  “Diamonds of the highest quality are said to be 'Of the First Water'.”  He moved the diamond allowing the light to catch it in different directions sending glimmering prisms shooting across the room.

 

“A diamond of the highest calibre is noted for how close it comes to the perfect translucency of pure water,” he paused enjoying feeling somewhat superior over Nelson at this point.

 

“Of the First Water indicates the purest translucency, the highest quality and therefore the highest value.  The scale moves to 'Of the Second Water' and so on and so forth as diamonds are assessed.  This diamond,” bringing his hand down to hold his prize firmly, “was assessed as of the highest calibre.  It's only a sample of what lies on the bottom of the sea, all promising to be First Water diamonds,” he finished triumphantly and then refocused as he spoke.

 

“I will reveal those coordinates only when we are in the vicinity of the Santa Reina.  I'm afraid I couldn't divert this little trip to Dr. Well's home, still I understand the voyage won't be too long.   But let me get one thing straight Admiral,” he paused as his eyes darkened. 

 

“Crane and Morton will not be safe until I reach the coordinates and retrieve the diamonds.  I have arranged for both of them to be moved to a secure location.  If I don't make certain prearranged communications with my men, both your officers will suffer greatly.”  He paused dramatically and added in a dark tone, “I am perfectly capable of carrying out every one of my threats.  I believe I have demonstrated that well with Morton.”

 

Grant walked around the table and held the diamond up to the light as he spoke wistfully.

 

“I've waited a long time for this, Nelson.  I've been a diamond in the rough too long, recovering these jewels will expose me for what I am; a great man... a man of the First Water.”  He smiled and then lowered the diamond taking out his velvet pouch to secure it.

 

Harry blew out a breath and shook his head.  “I don't understand this Grant.  The work you did as an archaeologist was superb, and the research you did to track down the shipwreck was amazing.  Yes, you would have had to file for salvage rights, and yes you would have paid a substantial amount in taxes, but you would have assured your prominence in two fields; archeology and underwater recovery.  But now, you've traded everything for the money,” Harry finished.

 

Grant turned sharply at Harry's words.  “I've traded nothing.  I'll have my prominence, my recognition AND my money.  That's what it means to be First Water,” he smiled deviously and continued, “to have everything!”

 

Harry nodded, his mouth held tight in anger.  Clifford Grant was a man of unbridled ambition who had no moral compass to guide him, for now Harry needed to play along.  He had no doubt that Grant would carry out his threat against Lee and Chip, and if his behavior earlier was any indication he knew that Lee would be especially vulnerable in Grant's control.  But he couldn't just turn over Seaview to Grant and his men, he'd have to play for time and see what opportunity presented itself.

 

“Now, Nelson, I'll allow you to see Morton.”  He swept his hand toward the stairway as Harry moved forward followed by his ever present guard holding his drawn weapon.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry was escorted to Chip's room.  “How is he, Phineas?” Harry asked as Chip's eyes fluttered open at the sound of the Admiral's voice.

 

“The bleeding has stopped, but he's lost a lot of blood, and he'll need a doctor soon,” Phineas reported.

 

“How are you doing, Chip?” Harry asked with concern.

 

“I'm okay, Sir,” Chip said not very convincingly, but Harry accepted his answer with a nod.

 

“Hold on, lad,” Harry said not able to offer much more at this point as Chip breathed through the pain and nodded silently in return.

 

Grant stood at the door having no interest in Morton's condition and continuing to ignore Wells as a minor and insignificant player in this game.

 

“Time's up, Nelson,” Grant ordered, his controlling tone becoming more pronounced with each statement.

 

“Watch over him, Phineas,” Harry asked with concern as he reached and placed a hand on Chip's good shoulder before stepping away.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee found the rod iron gate and checked the lock once again with only the moonlight illuminating through the terrace walkway outside his door.  He turned and leaned against the door mentally reviewing his cell.  Then a small smile appeared as he recalled the pipe attached to the stone running down the center of the low seven foot ceiling.  The pipe had been added to encase electrical wires adding electricity to the ancient structure, though there was no light currently illuminating from any of the fixtures down the terrace walkway.  He couldn't take the chance of the wires being hot, it wasn't the pipe or the electrical wires he wanted anyway.  He reached up and felt the first flat bar that bolted the pipe to the ceiling.  He tugged on the bar and found it sound.  Lee moved along the pipe until he found the second bar, it too was sound.  Patiently he moved from bar to bar until he found what he was looking for, a weakened support bar.  He could feel the give as he pulled on the bar and ran his fingers across it to feel the bolt connecting to the ceiling.  Small stones crumbled under his fingers as he realized the weak spot in the stone would provide what he needed.

 

Lee reached up with every bit of stretch his 6'1” height could reach and used both hands pulling on the bar feeling it give, he tugged harder and felt the bar move more freely.  Finally he threw his dead weight into the pull as the bar freed itself from the stone, bolt and all.  He had one end of the bar hanging from the ceiling, now it was a matter of working the second bolt loose from its position.  He pulled the bar in several directions, working for at least ten minutes when the ancient stone lost its integrity and could hold the bolt no longer.  Lee had the freed flat bar in his hand and walked towards the gate, his eyes having adjusted to the dark.

 

He felt the rusty rod iron vertical bars and moved over to the locking mechanism with a plan of action.  Iron is a soft metal, not nearly as strong as steel having no carbon added to harden and strengthen its properties, and in its rusty state the gate was compromised even more.  The flat bar however, was made of hardened steel and provided the perfect tool for wedging a lever into place.  He found the spot he wanted to work with and placed the flattest end as deep into the space between the gate and the stone wall as he could muster creating a wedge and began to pull away, forcing the old locking device to give ever so slightly. 

 

Lee stopped straining a moment and looked over his progress using his limited light, replaced the bar and began pulling his lever once again.  As he used his body weight to pull on the bar he felt the stone give way, he adjusted the bar deeper and continued his slow progress.  Eventually, he was able to work the rusty iron locking mechanism completely free of the stone wall and then stopped to listen for “visitors.”  He allowed a satisfied smile to cross his face and pushed the door open, sliding out to his freedom.  Lee replaced the gate into the closed position so that his escape would not be easily seen from afar and began to work his way back to the main house.

 

* * * * *

 

Dr. Phineas Wells listened as the guard pulled the door closed behind him.  He moved carefully over placing his ear to the door.  He heard the guard lean clumsily against the wall placing a foot on the wall with a slight thud as he settled in for his boring guard duty.

 

Phineas moved across the room and met the pained blue eyes of Chip Morton.

 

“There's a trellis outside this window,” he whispered to Seaview's first officer.  “I'll climb down and try and make it for the Flying Sub.”

 

Chip nodded, whispering back, “Be careful, Doc.”

 

Phineas smiled, showing more confidence than he was actually feeling and went to the window raising it as slowly and quietly as he could, climbing out and testing the trellis under his feet before letting loose of his hold on the window.  He moved down the trellis fighting large branches of ivy for position and hand holds until he reached the safety of the grass below him.  His heart was pounding so loudly he thought it might give him away, but so far his escape went unnoticed so he moved toward the dock taking the long way to avoid the windows of the house.  He made it to the safety of the trees and was about to proceed to the dock when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and held in a choke hold.

 

* * * * *

 

Clifford Grant moved down the rounded staircase thinking over the events of the evening.  Everything was going according to plan.  He could have easily have set Crane up for the escape and subsequent bullet but he had something else in mind for him.  Admiral Nelson held his captain in high regard, and he was saving Crane for insurance.  For now he'd use Morton as his pawn to keep Nelson in line, but later if Nelson gave him trouble he'd turn his attention to Crane. 

 

He had enjoyed decking Crane in the drawing room.  It made him feel strong and in control and he took satisfaction in watching Crane fall even though he had been compromised by the drug.  Perhaps he'd demonstrate his resolve on Crane before they left for Seaview, just to ensure Nelson's total compliance.  The thought brought a smile to his face as he thought about watching Crane beg for his life.  Grant saw himself as a better man than Crane, and when he had the diamonds he'd have enough money and power to prove it.  

 

* * * * *

 

Lee moved stealthily through the terrace hall, stopping at the end to check for guards.  After satisfying himself that the way was clear he moved toward the house, using the shrubs and trees along the garden for cover.  He moved along spotting a guard on sentry duty making his circuit around the yard.  Lee moved closer to the house still in the trees and shrubbery but working on an intercept course with the guard.  He reached his position and waited until the guard walked just beyond his position then landed a devastating karate chop against the back of his neck.  The guard faltered and Lee followed up with a swift uppercut to his jaw as he fell, out like a light before he even hit the grass.  Lee pulled him deeper into the shrubbery and relieved him of the weapon he wore unwisely in his holster instead of drawn for action.  Lee didn't have anything to tie the guard up with, and hoped he would stay out long enough to gain access to the house silently.  So he left him hidden behind the thick hedges and preceded toward the main house once again.

 

He heard another noise and moved to take out another guard.  As he moved closer to the “guard” Lee caught the familiar face of Dr. Wells as the moonlight reflected off his red hair and freckled face.  He didn't want his appearance to startle Wells and ruin their hiding places so he caught up to him and grabbed him from behind.

 

“Dr. Wells!” He whispered as Phineas struggled for just a second before he recognized the Captain's voice.  As Lee felt Wells stop struggling he released the choke hold that effectively kept him from screaming and released the doctor. 

 

“Captain Crane!”  Wells replied in a loud stage whisper as Lee indicated his need for stealthness.

 

“Thank God it's you,” Wells said in a smaller hushed tone, “Are you well?”

 

“I'm fine Dr. Wells.  What about Chip and the Admiral?” Lee inquired hoping for good news.

 

“The Admiral is well.  Chip was shot in the shoulder and is resting upstairs under guard.”  Phineas' eyes motioned upwards to a second story room with the drapes fluttering in the night air.   “He sent me to see if I could reach the Flying Sub to get a message out for help,” he continued.

 

Lee nodded, “Good idea.  When you get there, lock yourself in the flying sub, make the call and stay there till help arrives.” 

 

Phineas nodded his agreement, “Aren't you coming with me?” He asked, his Scottish accent heard even through his whisper.

 

“No, I'm going to make sure the Admiral and Chip are alright.”

 

“Okay,” Phineas said, recognizing the Captain's determination and took off for the yellow sub berthed at his dock.

 

* * * * *

 

Clifford Grant crossed the drawing room floor and moved back toward the sea chart still sprawled open across the table motioning Harry to follow.

 

“How long at top speed to reach this area?” He said making a wide circle around a two hundred mile circumference, being careful not to give away his treasure area too soon.

 

Harry did some quick mental figuring. “Five days at full,” Harry answered.

 

Grant let out a scoff, “I think you padded your time, Nelson.  You'll find out that I'm no fool, but if you need more persuasion I can add another bullet hole to Morton upstairs.”

 

Harry sighed, “That won't be necessary.  Three and half, four days tops,” he corrected.

 

“That's better,” Grant added, and then continued with planning the voyage.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee made sure the way was clear for Dr. Wells, and then headed for the trellis under Chip's window.  He climbed up hoping another guard didn't pass as the sound of the ivy crunching under his feet was anything but stealth.  He reached the window and peeked in to make sure the room was clear, and then climbed in.  Chip was asleep on the bed, bandaged at the left shoulder with blood dotting through.

 

“Chip?” Lee called quietly.  Chip's eyes fluttered open, focused and found Lee immediately.

 

“How are you doing, Chip?” Lee said in a hushed whisper.

 

“Been better,” Chip croaked out, but with a small smile.

 

Lee nodded, “Wells is on his way to the Flying Sub.”  Chip responded with the smallest of nods, the acetaminophen definitely not keeping up with the pain.

 

“You got a guard out your door?”

 

“Yeah, Wells thinks just one,” he answered sparingly.

 

Lee smiled a small tight smile, “How about you get his attention?”

 

Chip nodded, and waited for Lee to get into position and then began to moan loudly.

 

It only took a moment for the guard outside to step in to check on the officer.  As soon as he cleared the doorway, Lee greeted him with a thump to the back of the neck using the handgun he had retrieved from his first guard.  Lee relieved him of his gun and dragged him toward the washroom, stopping to use Chip's discarded tie to secure the guard's hands behind his back.  Then he continued into the washroom, stuffed a washrag in his mouth and tied a hand towel around to hold it in place, closing the door behind him.

 

“Okay,” Lee said to Chip.  “I'm not leaving you behind, so down the stairs or out the window?”

 

Chip attempted to sit up and would have fallen back if Lee hadn't caught him.

 

“Down the stairs,” Lee decided for him as he reached to help Chip up.  Chip swung his legs to the side of the bed and sat a moment willing the world to stop spinning, then blinked his eyes.

 

“Okay,” he answered as he rose steady on his two feet, but weak from the blood loss.

 

Lee opened the door slowly, peering around the corner and finding the way clear moved toward the end of the hall.

 

“I thought it was down the stairs?” Chip said weakly.

 

Lee waggled his eyebrows, “I've got a better idea.”

 

He stopped in front of a small door cut in the middle of the wall and called the small elevator to the second floor.

 

Lee handed Chip one of the .45s he had confiscated from the guards.  “When you reach the kitchen, make sure it's safe, and then pile out.  I'll be right behind.”

 

Lee closed the door behind him and sent the dumb waiter down to the kitchen.  He hoped it was plenty past dinner and the kitchen subsequently unoccupied; it was a chance he'd have to take.  Only a minute passed and the elevator made its way back up.  Lee climbed inside pulling out his .45, ready to act if he had a reception party waiting for him. 

 

Chip opened the door and Lee unfolded his long legs exiting the small shaft.

 

He moved toward the kitchen door and put an ear to it listening intently.  The dining room separated the kitchen from the drawing room and it sounded quiet so he moved back toward Chip.

 

“I'm going to get you back to the Flying Sub, Wells is waiting there...”

 

“Lee, I can be your backup,” Chip protested.

 

“You can hardly stand, Chip.  No arguments, when we get safely away you can tell me what you know of this mess.”

 

Chip nodded his agreement.  He wished he could be of more help, but Lee was right.  Those two holes in his shoulder had him done in.

 

They easily left via the kitchen's servant's door as Lee guided Chip out the way Wells had left using the trees and hedges for cover.  When they were far enough away Chip filled him in on what little he knew.

 

“Diamonds?” Lee repeated.  “Well, he needs the Admiral so he's safe for now.  Coordinate the rescue from FS1,” Lee instructed as he keyed in the code and opened the cargo hatch.  Dr. Wells was there to greet them, relieved to see both officers.

 

“I'm going back to give the Admiral backup,” Lee said, squeezing Chip's good shoulder on the way out.

 

“Take care, Lee,” Chip offered with concern.

 

Lee just smiled that, “I'm invincible” smile and exited, locking the hatch as he left.

 

* * * * *

 

Grant rolled up the sea chart from the table, satisfied that he had planned the diamond recovery mission out perfectly.  Harry was sitting in the wing back chair with a guard on his side when a guard stumbled into the drawing room rubbing the back of his neck and cursing.

 

“You're supposed to be on sentry!” Grant bellowed.

 

“I was, until I got clobbered from behind!”  He yelled back, still rubbing his neck.

 

Grant looked slightly confused, as Harry allowed a small tight smile to escape, having a pretty good idea just who had done the clobbering.

 

“Did you check Crane's cell?” He said, putting two and two together.

 

“No, I came straight here.”

 

“Well do it!”

 

The guard left and Harry sat back deeper into the chair enjoying watching Grant's plans start to crumble.

 

Just then another guard came clumsily down the staircase, his hands still tied behind his back.

 

“You're supposed to be guarding Morton and Wells!” Grant screamed even louder.

 

“I don't know what happened.  I heard Morton; went into the room and the next thing I know I'm lying on the bathroom floor with a rag stuffed in my mouth,” he explained as another guard removed the black tie from his wrists.

 

“Where are Morton and Wells?” He asked trying to hide his frantic feeling as he started losing control over the situation.

 

“How should I know?  I was out cold on the floor,” the guard replied.

 

At that, Harry couldn't help the chuckle that escaped as he was equally sure who stuffed the rag into the guard's mouth.  He's just lucky it wasn't his socks, Harry thought remembering another time when Lee used a bad guys own socks to gag him. ****

 

Grant responded to Harry's chuckle by turning toward him and glaring, but his attempt to intimidate Harry was interrupted as the first guard returned with his report.

 

“He's gone!  Crane's escaped.”

 

Grant threw his arms around demonstratively, “Get out there and find him, you idiot!” he screamed as the guard stood his ground for a moment deciding whether to comply after being called an idiot, but then turned to leave.

 

Grant composed himself and then walked over to another guard taking his sidearm from him and pointing it squarely at Harry.

 

“At least I still have you Nelson.  Now, if I'm right about Crane, all I have to do is wait for him to come to me.”

 

Yep, Harry thought.  Harry's tight smile was still in place as the lights went out and the room darkened.  Immediately there was a crash and Harry used that moment to send a double fisted blow to his guard and dive for cover.

 

Grant panicked and started firing indiscriminately around the room seeking his target and shooting at shadows.

 

“Come out Crane!  I still have Nelson here,” he was bluffing because Harry had made his way out of his reach and by now had a .45 of his own.

 

“Crane!” He yelled still seeking the captain's surrender, but his search was interrupted when all of the sudden he gasped as he was grabbed from behind and held in a choke-hold unable to move.  Grant's left arm was pulled behind him as strange sounds buzzed through the room with instant accompanying “thuds.”

 

“Drop your weapon,” he heard in a low dark voice from behind as pressure was duly applied to both his neck and his arm bent unnaturally behind him.  Grant tried to struggle in a futile desperate attempt to free himself but his assailant had too strong of a hold.  The throat hold tightened and Grant finally dropped his gun with a thud on the floor.

 

“Chief,” Lee called out and instantly the lights came back on revealing men in red and blue jumpsuits guarding the exit points with laser stun guns drawn and wearing night vision goggles.  Grant's men lay sprawled across the floor as Seaview's men began the clean-up.

 

“I'm going to kill you someday, Crane,” Grant promised darkly as Lee turned Grant over to Sharkey.

 

“Yeah, well not today,” Lee answered without fear and turned away ignoring anything further Grant might say as Sharkey moved him along.

 

“Come along, you,” Sharkey said darkly in Grant's ear, his Coney Island accent adding intimidation to his words.

 

Lee spotted Harry and closed the distance as Harry held his bloody arm.

 

“Sir?” Lee inquired.

 

“Just a graze, Lee.  Just took a stray bullet.”

 

“Ski,” Lee called out as Harry started to protest, but Lee proceeded anyway.  “The Admiral needs a field dress,” he finished. 

 

“Aye Sir,” Kowalski replied as Harry conceded.

 

“Nice rescue, Lee,” Harry said locking eyes for a moment.

 

“Thank you, Sir, but it was a team effort,” Lee said as he characteristically deflected praise off himself and distributed it to his men instead.

 

* * * * *

 

The authorities were called and Dr. Wells had been ferried back to his estate as Harry and Lee sorted out the details with the Deputy Chief Constable.  Harry held the diamond in his hand and raised it to the light allowing the diamond to reveal its beauty.

 

“It's of First Water quality, and I'd venture to guess worth at least half a million dollars,” Harry explained. 

 

“First Water?” The Deputy Chief repeated taking the diamond and holding it to the light as well.

 

Harry nodded, “Yes, in ancient times diamonds were assessed by how close their translucency compared to a drop of pure water.  Of First Water is the highest quality, and therefore of more value.  Diamonds of lesser quality subsequently receive ratings of Second Water, Third Water and so on,” Harry explained as the Deputy Chief nodded in understanding.

 

“This is one of the most fantastic stories I've ever heard.  Surely, he didn't believe he could hijack a nuclear submarine and get away with it?”  He said shaking his head and rubbing his neck.

 

“I'm afraid he did.  He thought he had planned for every contingency,” Harry said.

 

“And Captain Crane's escape!”  The Constable continued in disbelief, looking across the room at Seaview's Captain speaking with another Constable.  “I'd hate to try and keep him behind bars,” he said with a chuckle as Harry joined in secretly proud of Lee's ingenuity as they watched Grant and his men being taken away.

 

Lee closed the distance joining Harry and the Deputy Chief as Grant turned toward Lee yelling over his shoulder.

 

“I'll kill you Crane, mark my words!”

 

The Constable just tugged on Grant's arm and moved him forward as Lee looked on totally unaffected by the threat.   Harry shook his head remembering his conversation with Grant earlier.  Grant had traded every bit of his integrity for the diamonds and in doing so proved the calibre man he was.

 

Harry's pondering continued as he thought about Grant's hatred toward Lee.  There never should have been a comparison on Grant's part to Lee.  Diamonds are not assessed by comparing them to other diamonds, but to the pure translucency of water.  Indeed, that's how men should assess themselves, not in comparison to others but to a higher standard, something as pure as water. 

 

“Well, that should do it Admiral,” The Deputy Chief said, tucking his small notebook into the inside breast pocket of his uniform jacket.  “If we need anything else we'll contact you, and you will of course be required at the trial.”

 

“Of course and thank you.  You and your men were very efficient,” Harry sincerely complimented as the Deputy Chief smiled his appreciation and turned to leave.

 

“Harry, will you stay for lunch?”  Phineas Wells asked, the long night having given way to long a morning as the police investigated the scene.

 

“No, I think we'd better make our way back to Seaview and check on Mr. Morton,” Harry replied.  Phineas nodded, completely understanding their desire to be back aboard Seaview.

 

“But I'm looking forward to continuing our association in the plankton project,” Harry added, reaching for a handshake with Phineas.

 

“Dr. Wells,” Lee said in goodbye and also shaking his hand.

 

Harry and Lee departed for the flying sub, both anxious to return to Seaview and to see Chip, even though Jamie had already reported that he had been treated and was resting well.  Chief Sharkey was waiting as they boarded and Harry enjoyed watching Lee interact with Sharkey and then positioned himself in the co-pilot's chair as Sharkey sat in the guest flight chair in the back.  It dawned on him that Lee's move to the co-pilot's chair had quietly accentuated his thoughts earlier.  Lee had nothing to prove to anyone, and though he was as good a pilot as Harry, he never fought for the left seat position.  And it had nothing to do with Rank, it just simply didn't matter. 

 

Harry sat in the pilot's chair and thought about the irony of the whole situation.  Grant's quest for the diamonds was really a quest to prove himself as First Water, but all he really did was to confirm what Harry already knew about the man sitting next him. 

 

“Ready, Sir?”  Lee asked after flipping switches and readying the craft for departure.

 

“How about you take her out this time, Lee?”

 

Lee just smiled as he maneuvered his “Baby” out and began skimming the water for take-off as Harry sat back enjoying the ride and his present thought: that if men were diamonds, Lee Crane would definitely be Of the First Water.

 

 

 

The End

Of the First Water

 

 

 

Notes:

*See First Season episode, Hail to the Chief

 

**See First Season episode, The Price of Doom

 

***Neeps and tatties – sweet turnips and potatoes

 

****See my story, The Price We Pay

 

First Water means "highest quality" and is a term which originates from the gemstone trade. The clarity of diamonds is assessed by their translucence; the more like water, the higher the quality.  The 1753 edition of Chambers' Encyclopedia states "The first water in Diamonds means the greatest purity and perfection of their complexion, which ought to be that of the clearest drop of water.  When Diamonds fall short of this perfection, they are said to be of the second or third water and so on..."  www.wikipedia.org

The term 'of the first water' is also an idiom and has come to mean some kind of extreme, whether it's good or bad, such as 'a villain of the first water' or 'a star of the first water' or in our case, a 'man of the first water'. 

 

The Lost Treasure of the Pedernals is a real Southwestern myth which may be founded in some truth.  Google it for a little fun history lesson. : )

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2014, All Rights Reserved

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