A Turtle’s Tale

 

By R. L. Keller

 

 

“Problems, Chip?”  Lt. Cdr. Charles Morton jumped slightly – he hadn’t heard his boss, Admiral Harriman Nelson, walk up behind him in the Control Room of the giant submarine, Seaview.

 

The blond turned and sent Nelson a bit of a sheepish grin – he knew perfectly well that his slight startle had been seen.  “Green across the board, sir.  Just…”

 

Nelson sent his boat’s XO a quick grin.  “Lee will be back before you know it.”

 

Chip nodded.  “Not used to skulking off our own coast,” he admitted.

 

Nelson chuckled softly.  “At least if we get spotted we won’t be in danger of getting a torpedo up our six.  We do, actually, have a perfectly legitimate reason for being here.”  His grin spread and he shrugged.  “Even if we didn’t bother announcing our presence.”

 

‘Lee’ was Cdr. Lee Crane.  His full-time job was as Seaview’s captain.  But having worked off and on for ONI, the Navy’s intelligence-gathering agency, before coming to the Nelson Institute of Marine Research he still got tagged for the occasional errand.  Seaview being in the Atlantic Ocean while Nelson was gathering samples for half a dozen ongoing projects NIMR had in the works, Lee was an obvious choice – at least that’s how ONI’s director, Admiral Robert Jones, saw it – to gather a different bit of intel.

 

The submarine – what most of the world saw as only a large, moveable marine laboratory – was sitting several miles off the coast of Florida just south of Cape Canaveral National Coastal Reserve, between there and the Kennedy Space Center.  They were sitting near the bottom, sonar on the lookout for what in this case should be friendly vessels from either the US Navy or Coast Guard.  They’d prefer not to be spotted, although as Nelson said they would be in no danger if they were.  The previous night they had cruised silently close to shore and dropped Lee off for what would be a fairly easy swim by scuba to the beach.  He was to meet with an informant, and Seaview would pick him up tonight at the same place and time that they’d dropped him off.

 

“Sir,” Chip asked carefully, “explain to me again why we’re being this cautious to make connections on our own soil?”

 

Nelson frowned.  “Because Jones is a pain in the…”  He paused and sent a quick glance around the Conn.  “Tail,” he finished tactfully, but still with a growl.  But he had himself more under control when he continued.  “Apparently the informant is in deep cover with some home-grown terrorist group.”

 

“After something at the Space Center?”

 

“Who knows?”  Nelson shrugged again.  “I’m not totally sure why the FBI or Homeland Security isn’t handling it, but for some reason this seems to be Robert’s problem.”

 

“So he makes it ours,” Chip muttered.  He thought only to himself, and was once more embarrassed to realize that Nelson had heard him.

 

The older man reached out a hand, gave Chip’s shoulder a quick, light, squeeze, and sent him a smile.  “At least this time Lee should come back in one piece.  Nobody should be shooting at him for being on a relatively open beach in our own country.  He just had to make sure that he wasn’t spotted meeting with the guy.”

 

Chip shook his head.  “It still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.  Well,” he added, “at least to me.”

 

Once more Nelson shrugged.  “Me, either,” he admitted.  He glanced around again and spotted Lt. Chris James back by the Radio Shack.  “Why don’t we go have a bit of an early dinner?  By the time we finish it will be almost time to go retrieve your absent captain.  I suspect that he’ll be just as glad to be back aboard as you will be to have him back.”

 

Chip ducked his head – it was well-known by everyone at NIMR, and especially Seaview’s crew, that Chip had no love for ONI or the ‘errands’ they sent Lee on.  He wasn’t particularly hungry but agreed nonetheless, knowing that Nelson’s motive was mostly to get his up-tight XO to relax a bit.  He gave command to James, his usual second in the Conn during the day, and headed aft with the Admiral.

 

He did wonder if that hadn’t been Nelson’s intention all along – to get Chip away from the Conn crew for an hour or so - when the boat’s CMO, Dr. Will Jamison, also joined them for the slightly early meal.  The crew had a tendency to all too quickly pick up on the emotional status of the senior officers, and Chip knew that he’d become increasingly nervous as the day progressed.  Even though they were in friendly waters and the mission was apparently simple, Lee’s track record for coming back from anything ONI-related in one piece was abysmal.  The pair had been friends since their first year at Annapolis, and the bond had only grown stronger once they were reunited on Seaview.

 

Cookie was just setting out the first trays of food as the trio entered the Officers’ Wardroom.  “A little early,” he said carefully, sounding somewhat unsure.  He usually had the evening meal ready by 1715 hours.  It was only 1730 now but a few issues had delayed him that afternoon.

 

“No problem,” Nelson assured him.  “We’re just holding station.  I assume that the coffee’s ready?”

 

“Never a doubt of that, sir,” the premier chef – and backup Nuclear Reactor Specialist – assured him.  “The rest will be ready in about ten minutes.”

 

“Is that fresh bread I smell?” Will asked by way of keeping the conversation casual.

 

Cookie’s craggy face broke into a broad grin.  “Fresh whole wheat rolls to go with the seafood pasta, green beans, peas and carrots, and caesar salad.”

 

“No dessert?”  Chip decided that he’d play along.  He knew that both Nelson and Jamie were trying to tease him away from worrying about Lee and he did, honestly, appreciate the gesture.

 

Cookie frowned.  “Mr. Morton, would I do that to you?”  Both Nelson and Will cracking up kept Chip from actually answering, and he sent the cook a grin as well.  Cookie’s smile also returned.  “Peach cobbler just finishing up in the oven.”

 

“Yumm,” Chip told him honestly, and followed Nelson and Jamie over to the large coffee urn in the corner.

 

The three officers sat and chatted amiably for the few minutes it took Cookie to finish setting out the meal, and continued as they ate.  Other officers wandered in and out as their shifts dictated, and Nelson used the opportunity both with Chip and the others to casually check on the activities and workings of his boat.  He rarely worried about anything – he’d surrounded himself with extremely competent staff, both civilian technicians, and military personnel that he’d ‘raided the ranks for’ and coaxed into the Reserves so that they were free to join NIMR and Seaview.  For a while after establishing the Institute he’d gotten so involved with his own research that he’d almost lost contact with what he now realized was normal lines of communication.  It had taken awhile but he finally saw how isolated he’d made himself, and now worked hard to never let that happen again.  His staff responded and became more open, and his officers and crew developed a more bonded relationship with each other – although Nelson was quick to point to Lee’s coming that had Seaview’s crew responding so well.  But Nelson knew that he, himself, was much more content, much more complete, when he took the time to interact with as many people every day as he could.

 

He’d met both Lee and Chip their first year at Annapolis, having them in several classes as he was back and forth those four years from Instructor at the Academy to active duty assignments at sea.  They had been so different, in so many ways, that it had been hard to imagine them as roommates, let alone fast friends.  And yet, they perfectly complimented each other.  Nelson had followed both men’s careers after the Academy.  He’d served only briefly with Lee, aboard the old Nautilus, and never with Chip.  But once he ‘retired’ and started to build NIMR he snagged Chip immediately, depending on his knowledge of computers as well as organization and management skills to help bring all of the various details into order.  He’d wanted Lee as Seaview’s captain but that wasn’t to be.  He still had to deal with the Navy, and the ‘powers that be’ saw Lee as far too young and inexperienced to be in command of the world’s largest and most powerful submarine.  John Phillips had been an acceptable compromise and had actually been great for Seaview’s first year, especially in helping to train Chip in what was his first experience as an XO aboard a sub.

 

Nelson never regretted that first year.  But with Phillips’ untimely death he was able to pull a few strings and finally get Lee aboard as he’d originally wanted.  He wasn’t overly thrilled that ONI continued to ‘borrow’ the man.  But with his own ties to the agency earlier in his career he wasn’t quite as objectionable to it as Chip continued to be.

 

He grinned softly to himself as Chip and Will kibitzed about an incident that had happened that morning as they were settling Seaview into her current position.  One of Will’s two corpsmen had decided that, since everything was going to remain quiet all day, he’d take the opportunity to do some general maintenance on several pieces of equipment in Sick Bay.  He’d just gotten the respirator stripped down and was cleaning all the parts when there was a frantic call from Engineering that one of the crew had suffered an electrical shock.  Lt. O’Brien, also recognizing this as a great time to do some general maintenance, had set a crew to double-checking several sections of electrical wiring and one of the men had discovered – unfortunately by touching it – a short in one of the sections.  Happily everything turned out to be minor, but there had been a few minutes of some mad scrambling by a bunch of people.  Nelson was positive that Chip totally understood his boss’ motive for removing the blond from the Conn and dragging him down to eat.  It was extremely hard to get anything past the perceptive younger man.  It was one of the things – among many – that made him the best XO Nelson had ever served around, and caused his grin to grow.

 

“What are you plotting, Admiral?” Will grumbled, and Nelson realized that he’d been caught.  “It’s bad enough I have to keep ahead of him,” he pointed his fork at Chip, “and his partner in crime.”  It was the first mention of the absent Lee, and a flash of a frown crossed Chip’s face.

 

But he recovered almost immediately.  “Us,” he bluffed an indignant growl.  “We just try to do our jobs and you keep interfering.”

 

Nelson couldn’t contain himself at the jabs, not totally without unsubtle underlying meanings for sure between Will and Seaview’s senior officers, and burst out laughing.  Chip and Will still sent each other a quick glare, but both quickly changed to grins of their own.  “Down, Will,” he told his CMO between more controlled chuckles.  “Merely a bit of wool-gathering on my part, as well as enjoying the meal and the company.”

 

“Harrumph,” Will muttered nonetheless, in exact imitation of one of Nelson’s rather patented lines, before all three grinned again.

 

“I suppose that I’d better head back,” Chip finally sighed.  He had to admit that he did feel much better for the distraction.

 

“Plenty of cobbler left,” Cookie said from the doorway into the Galley, causing both Nelson and Will to send the blond more grins.

 

Chip returned them sheepishly.  “Midnight snack,” he promised the chef.  “The Skipper should be back by then and he’ll no doubt be hungry.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” and the cook headed back into his domain.

 

“Now you have to make sure you drag Lee down here,” Nelson told Chip softly, “or we’ll all never hear the end of it.”

 

Chip chuckled.  “I’ll take care of it,” he mimicked the cook, and took his leave.

 

“Taking bets?” Will asked his boss.

 

“Are you kidding?” Nelson answered.  Both men chuckled, drained the last of their coffee, and also headed elsewhere.

 

Precisely at 2000 hours Chip gave the orders to shift Seaview from her waiting position back to where they’d dropped Lee off the night before.  A quick call from COB Sharkey let Chip know that a hand-picked crew was standing by in the Missile Room, just in case.  Chip suspected that Admiral Nelson was there as well, simply from the fact that he hadn’t shown up so far in the Conn.  Chip had some of his most experienced men on duty – Kowalski on Sonar and Riley on Hydrophone – scanning for both other vessels, and the small blip that would signal Lee’s approach.  Lt. O’Brien, who normally had “C” watch from 2000 hours until 0200 hours when Lt. Keeter would take the Conn as “D” watch officer, was standing watch with Chip, ready to take command.  Both knew that Chip would head for the Missile Room as soon as Lee’s approach was noted.  O’Brien had his orders and would move Seaview back into open waters as soon as his CO was safely back aboard.

 

And for once, everything went as planned.  Kowalski announced that he had Lee on Sonar; Sparks, in the Radio Shack, picked up Lee’s small transponder signal; Chip and O’Brien exchanged a quick nod and Chip headed aft.  As he expected, Admiral Nelson was already in the Missile Room. What wasn’t expected, but drew a quick grin from Chip, was finding Jamie standing quietly to one side.  Lee, as he stepped out of the diving hatch and started removing his scuba gear, saw the doctor as well and growled.  “Go to bed, Doctor.  Not even a scratch.”  Both Nelson and Will chuckled, and Chip smacked Lee lightly on the shoulder as he started to help Lee off with his gear, assisted by Chief Sharkey.

 

“But,” Lee told Nelson, sitting down to start stripping off his wetsuit, “that’s about all that went okay.”  Nelson pointed the expected eyebrow at the brunet.  “Nothing,” Lee told him.  “No informant.  Zip!  I know I was in the right spot.”  He shrugged.  “Had a good time watching several female Loggerhead sea turtles come ashore and lay their eggs last night.”  He sent Nelson a quick grin.  “Had to dodge around a couple of apparent observers from the Reserve Center.  Other than that…” He shrugged again.

 

“You did what you were asked to,” Nelson told him.  “That’s all that could be expected.”  He sent a quick glance at Chip.  “Once you finish dressing, Cookie’s got dinner saved for you.”

 

Lee almost started to frown, but quickly nodded as Nelson, Chip, and Will all grinned at him.  “Actually, I’m starving,” he admitted.

 

He was also tired – although there was no way that he would have openly admitted that!  Mostly, he knew, from frustration.  Both the swim in to land and again out was easy for the experienced master diver.  And staying up for nearly 48 hours straight was nothing new or all that unusual.  While he had empathized with the sea turtles their laborious and almost agonizing struggle over the sandy beach to above the high tide line, using their back flippers to dig a hole to lay their eggs, filling it back up with first their back, and finally their front flippers to level everything out again, and then their eventual slow return to their normal environment in the water, the process had actually been almost peaceful.  He’d had to smile as he watched, understanding Nelson’s fascination and love for all things associated with the world’s oceans and seas.

 

But not accomplishing the task he’d been sent to do had grated on his nerves.  He didn’t like not completing a task, even though it was through no fault of his own.  So once Chip had accompanied him to the Wardroom, answered all of his questions about what had happened on Seaview in his absence, and wandered through the boat as was his habit, not because he didn’t trust his XO and crew but just because, he allowed the blond to cajole him into finally crashing for what was left of the night.

 

* * * *

 

Chip wasn’t at all surprised to find Lee already in the Conn when he came down the spiral stairs from Officers’ Country the following morning at 0645 hours.  But he still grumbled a fairly soft, “Did you even sleep,” to his commanding officer – and best friend – as he joined him at the chart table.  Lt. Keeter, who had the Watch, barely controlled a snicker and had to turn his back and pretend to be toying with the navigation computers, so used was he to the two senior officers yanking each other’s chains.

 

“Yes, Mr. Morton,” Lee faux growled, “I slept.”  But both men quickly snickered.  Keeter rejoined them and finished giving his verbal report as the other two skimmed the written version.  Once done, Chip pointed Lee aft and the pair headed for the Wardroom for breakfast.

 

Both Nelson and Will joined them shortly, as was normal.  Chip and the doctor sat, quietly for the most part, listening as Lee and Nelson discussed what the Admiral had planned for the next couple of days in the way of sample gathering.  It wasn’t mentioned openly, but all knew that Lee would be checking in with Admiral Jones shortly and that could, possibly, affect Seaview’s otherwise strictly research-oriented cruise.  But they’d cross that bridge only if they had to.

 

When Lee and Chip would have headed back to the Conn, Nelson momentarily stopped the exit and told Lee that he should head to Nelson’s office and make his call from there.  Lee nodded and glanced at Chip, who told him that he’d give Lee a couple minutes’ head start and have Sparks put through the call.  Nelson and Will stayed seated, finishing their coffee as the other two left.

 

“Expecting trouble?” Will braved asking.  Usually Lee reported straight from the Radio Shack in the Control Room.  Where it was located, in the back portside end of the Conn, conversations could be kept fairly private.

 

“Not really,” Nelson admitted.  “But Robert was…cautious…almost…”  He shook his head.  “I just got the feeling that something else was going on when he called the other day.”  He shrugged.  “Although with Robert, sometimes it’s hard to tell.”  Will gave him the expected grin, and Nelson returned it.  “Just figured that, since the mission didn’t go as planned, Lee might need the extra soundproofing.”

 

Lee did send him a quick shiver when he came down the spiral stairs about ten minutes later and found Nelson in the Observation Nose – what a lot of the crew referred to as ‘Nelson’s Front Porch.’   Lee took a quick glance around the Conn and then joined his boss by the large windows.  “Not pleased,” was all that he said, however.  ONI missions weren’t something that was openly discussed – even between these two current and former agents.

 

“But no new orders?” Nelson would want at least that.

 

“No, sir.”

 

Nelson nodded.  “I’ve decided that, since we’re here already, we’ll do some sample-taking for a day or so before we head back to where we were.  I gave Chip a revised schedule,” and he nodded toward the blond, busy making notations on a clipboard as Lt. James worked on the navigation chart for the area.

 

Lee grinned.  “It would appear that he and Chris have it under control.”

 

Nelson sent him a speculative look.  “Don’t suppose that you’d see that as a sign to relax and take the next 24 or so hours off duty to make up for yesterday?”

 

Lee pulled himself up to Attention.  “Sir?  I’m…”

 

Nelson cut him off with a snicker.  “Never mind,” he told the younger man and took his leave, chuckling all the way up the spiral stairs as he headed for his lab.

 

Chip sent Lee a raised eyebrow as he joined the blond at the chart table.  Lee smiled softly, mostly to himself.  He did, honestly, like those infrequent occasions when Nelson’s slightly paternal attitude toward Lee showed itself.  Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone else!  “Nothing,” he now told the blond, picked up the Duty list clipboard, and headed aft.  Chip glanced at Chris.  The young lieutenant was getting more and more comfortable around the two senior officers, but was still a bit cautious so only gave his XO a quick shrug.  Chip grinned, returned the shrug, and the pair went back to plotting the Admiral’s slightly revised cruise parameters.

 

Shortly before 1100 hours Chip released Lt. James from the Conn so that he could meet with Chief Hauck, Seaview’s Master-At-Arms.  As Weapons Officer, James worked fairly closely with the MAA and the pair had several reports to review.  Seaview was holding station a couple of nautical miles east of the Kennedy Space Center while Nelson, from his lab, was downloading telemetry from several sensors he’d left on the ocean floor on a previous trip. 

 

Chip was puttering with a couple of things on the chart table as everything was quiet, and glancing out the front windows as occasional movement from passing sea life caught his attention.  At one point he spotted a sea turtle of some sort swish past.  A thought entered his brain, telling him ‘something’ wasn’t right about what he’d seen, but when he looked again the turtle was gone and he quickly forgot about it.

 

But only a couple minutes later the turtle reappeared, and this time Chip was able to make out a pouch of some sort that seemed to be attached to one of the turtle’s hind flippers before it once more disappeared from sight.  He shook his head, called Lee forward, and went to stand closer to the windows.

 

Lee appeared in moments, followed by Lt. James, and Chip buried a grin.  It would be totally a ‘Lee’ thing to do to have been quietly sitting in on James’ and Hauck’s meeting, not to interfere in any way but just to be there to offer any suggestions they might ask for.  James stayed by the chart table as Lee joined Chip forward.  Chip started to explain that he was seeing things, hesitated as Nelson came down the stairs, and finished explaining to both men.

 

“A pouch?” Lee challenged.

 

Chip shrugged.  “The quick glance I saw, that’s what it looked like.  I couldn’t really tell…”  A shadow passed the window.  “There!” Chip pointed, and once more the turtle appeared.  All three could now see the pouch, or whatever it was, firmly attached by some sort of cord to the creature’s right hind flipper.  Lee grabbed the nearest mic.  “Chief Sharkey, ready a dive party,” and was already headed aft before the COB could answer.  “Don’t let that turtle out of your sight,” Lee tossed over his shoulder, halfway through the Conn.

 

“Hey, that’s MY turtle,” Chip yelled back.  With a quick glance at Nelson, who merely flipped a hand at his XO, he told James, “Follow that turtle,” and hurried after Lee.  Nelson sent James a smile and a shrug, and switched on the sub’s forward camera to offer what help that he could in keeping the animal in sight.

 

Two crewmen were already suiting up when Lee and Chip hit the Missile Room and a couple others helped their officers change in record time, Lee explaining briefly the emergency dive.  No thought whatever was given to what the pouch was – it needed to be removed for the animal’s own health and safety.  While Lee and Chip strapped on diving knives, the other two men grabbed spear guns – they could easily run into any number of shark species in these waters and certain precautions were SOP on any dive.

 

Just as the four men headed out, Nelson called down an update – he had the turtle in view and Lt. James was keeping Seaview’s nose pointed at her.  No one in the Missile Room questioned Nelson’s choice of pronoun for the turtle and once outside the four quickly swam forward, the submarine barely moving beside them.  It took them only moments to find their target.  Some maneuvering on Lee and Chip’s part, however, while the other two divers kept an eye out for unfriendlies, was necessary before Chip could get close enough to snag the cord on the pouch with his knife blade without threat of injuring the turtle in the process.  The bag immediately started to fall but Lee grabbed it before it could get out of reach.  The turtle went merrily on her way, barely noticing that she’d been targeted, and the divers returned to the sub.

 

Nelson was among the waiting when the four stepped out of the diving hatch and Lee tossed him the bag.  It was made out of some sort of cloth and measured about six inches square once the purse string opening was laid flat.  Nelson glanced inside, frowned, and sent Lee a look that quickly included Chip.  “If you two will join me in my cabin once you’ve changed…” and he abruptly turned and left.  Lee and Chip exchanged quick looks as Lee sent a “yes, sir,” after Nelson, and the pair hurried back into their uniforms.

 

Chip did send Lee a puzzled look as they headed forward to Officers’ Country and the Admiral’s cabin.  “What?” Lee sent the puzzled look back.

 

“I’m not usually included in your private pow-wows with the Admiral,” Chip admitted openly.  It never bothered him.  And he knew that Lee understood that, especially as Lee grinned and shouldered him gently. 

 

“Like you said, it’s your turtle.”  Both men grinned broadly.

 

“Come,” Nelson called out at Lee’s light rap on the door and they entered, Chip closing the door behind them.  Nelson was standing, not sitting at his desk as they’d expected.  He motioned Chip into his chair behind the desk and pointed to the pouch lying on his desk blotter.  Once more the two younger men exchanged a quick glance, but Chip reached into the pouch and pulled out what was inside – a clear waterproof bag with two flash drives held securely inside.  Chip pulled one out, plugged it into Nelson’s computer, and started hitting keys.  Nelson and Lee stood behind him, reading bits as Chip rapidly went through the drive, pulled it out, and plugged in the second one.

 

This one held only one item – a personal message – and all three read it.  Chip uttered a word softly, one that was almost never used by the blond.  It was repeated a good deal louder by Nelson.  “Got that right,” Lee agreed.

 

Crane, if you get this, great.  You’ll know what to do with it.  If not, saltwater will eat through the string in short order, as well as the waterproof bag not long after that, and nobody will ever see anything.  Not optimum, but I don’t know what else to do.  It’s too late for me – I don’t expect to live though the next 24 hours.  The best I could do was get this out of their hands and hope that they don’t still have access.  Trust No One.  I have no idea how far up the food chain this goes.

 

“The agent knew who was being sent in?” Nelson asked Lee as Chip once more plugged in the first flash drive.

 

“I didn’t think so, sir,” Lee admitted, still a bit shaken.

 

All three were silent as Chip, more slowly this time, scrolled through the several pages of data on the flash drive.

 

“It looks like code of some sort,” Lee muttered almost to himself.  “Some of it looks vaguely familiar, but…”  He didn’t complete the thought.

 

“Same, here,” Chip admitted.  “But…”  His voice, too, trailed off.

 

“I have a couple of ideas,” Nelson grumbled.  When both younger men glanced at him they found a deep frown on his face.  “And neither of them are good!”  Nelson, at least, finished his sentence, although the tone he used to do it set both Chip and Lee’s nerves on edge.  Nor were they comforted at all when he continued.  “Some of it looks like the access codes used by some Pentagon departments.”

 

“Somebody hacked the Pentagon?”  Chip’s voice held disbelief.  “Not saying that it couldn’t be done,” he backpedaled, “but…”  Again his voice trailed off as he looked at his boss.

 

“More likely insider information,” Nelson told him.  “Either way…”

 

“Yeah,” Lee and Chip said together, and all three shook their heads.  “Probably what Melville meant by this going way up the food chain,” Lee continued, again almost to himself.

 

“Melville?” Nelson and Chip asked simultaneously.  “The agent?” Nelson continued.

 

“His code name,” Lee confirmed.  “I’ve never met him; don’t know his real name.  Just knew him by that.”

 

“I can’t believe that he’d tie this,” Chip pointed to the pouch, “to a turtle and expect it to ever be found.”

 

“However he discovered it, he obviously knew it was me coming and Seaview does have windows,” Lee theorized.  “He was doing what he could to get the word out that there was a serious problem.”

 

“What he meant about you knowing what to do with the intel,” Chip put the pieces together.

 

“Yeah,” Lee agreed.  “And as he said, if it didn’t work at least no one else would likely find it in useable condition.”

 

“But if this was an insider won’t they just steal it again?” Chip asked.

 

“I have to call Admiral Jones,” Lee switched topics, his voice firm.

 

“No,” Nelson was even firmer.  As Lee would have argued, Nelson held up a hand.  “If I’m right about what’s on that flash drive there’s been a major leak of Pentagon intel.  And if it’s his department that’s responsible…”  He paused.  “Actually, that might explain how Melville knew who was coming.”  Lee deflated slightly.  “This is going to take some careful finagling and it’s more likely to work if it comes from me.”  Nelson reached for the mic on his desk.  “Sparks, I need a secure line to Admiral Jones.”

 

“Aye, aye, sir,” came back promptly from Seaview’s head radioman.  Nelson almost smiled – he sometimes had to remind himself that the man everyone called by his nickname did have an actual one, as well as rank: Lt. Ted Sines.  Nelson had recruited him from the regular Navy shortly before Seaview was completed, after scanning records and Fit-Reps for someone with superior electronics and communication skills.  Sines had been of major help in developing not only Seaview’s equipment, but NIMR’s base Communications Center as well.

 

Chip started to stand up as Nelson replaced the mic but Nelson laid a hand on his shoulder, keeping him where he was.  At Chip’s instant look of puzzlement Nelson smiled – almost.  “You’re both already involved in this,” he indicated Lee in his comment.  “Not to mention that you,” he nodded to the blond, “are our best computer expert.  I suspect that both your and Lee’s skills are going to be needed on this one.”

 

“Yes, sir,” came back in stereo before Lee and Chip shared a quick look.

 

The phone on the desk buzzed and Nelson hit the speaker button.  Sure of Sparks’ skills, he none-the-less spoke carefully.  “Robert?”

 

“Nelson, you’ve got thirty seconds, and you only get that because your radioman is a pain in the…”  A loud cough from Nelson drowned out the other admiral’s last word.  Mostly.

 

“Sounds like you need a few days of vacation, Robert,” Nelson said casually.  “You’re sounding more stressed out than is even usual for you.”  He forced a soft chuckle.  “Why don’t you come join us on Seaview for a few days and decompress.”

 

“What?” was shouted back.  “Like I have time to go gallivanting anywhere I please, any time I please, like some people.”

 

Nelson chuckled again.  Having no idea what he’d stepped in the middle of – however it had happened – he had to be extremely careful of what he said and how he said it.  “I’m worried about you, Robert.  Lee mentioned that when he last spoke to you, you were sounding right on the edge.  And hearing you now I can understand what he meant.  You really need to take a break before you give yourself a heart attack or stroke.”  All he got in return was Jones starting to map out the gazillion different projects and meetings he had on his schedule for the next several days.

 

But apparently something in Nelson’s voice finally penetrated Jones’ ticked-off attitude.  Either that, or Nelson was right about Jones being already worried about this mission during his original call, because Jones hesitated in his listing of all the reasons he couldn’t just up and leave.  Nelson chose to stay quiet and Jones finally heaved a big sigh.  “On the other hand,” he conceded, “leaving DC for a couple days would get me out of at least two meetings I’ve been dreading.”

 

“Let me guess,” Nelson played along.  “Senator Draper’s exaggerated discourse on ways to streamline the budget.”

 

“With absolutely no mention of his giving up his bi-monthly junkets out of the country for no better reason than taking his wife shopping.”  Lee and Chip both shook their heads as Nelson grinned.  Jones, it seemed, had realized that there was more to this call than first appeared.

 

“Exactly,” Nelson agreed wholeheartedly.  “Commandeer a chopper out of Norfolk and we’ll send you our coordinates.  We’re sort of headed that direction,” he fudged.  “We can drop you back at Norfolk in a few days.”

 

There was silence on the other end for so long that Nelson was beginning to think that he’d been wrong.  But finally…  “Give me a bit to get it organized,” Jones finally responded.  “I’ll call you back.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Nelson told him, and both admirals hung up.

 

“I need to go back ashore,” Lee told his boss.

 

“No,” came immediately with a glare.  He gestured to the flash drives, then the pouch, and Chip took the hint and returned everything to how they’d been found.  “Not until we know more.”  As Lee would have argued, Nelson once more cut him off.  “This man Melville knew that he was in trouble.  According to his note he’s probably already dead.  If someone comes along showing any interest at all they’ll likely end up the same way.  You may have gotten extremely lucky getting back the first time.”

 

“Dumb luck,” Chip muttered softly.  “With an emphasis on dumb.”  He stood up, preparing to head for the Conn, as Lee frowned and smacked his shoulder lightly.

 

Nelson sent both an indulgent smile but continued seriously.  “You don’t go anywhere until we have more information.  And maybe not even then, depending on what Robert has to say.”  His frown deepened again.  “Assuming we can actually get anything out of him.  Although…” he paused just a bit, “his agreeing to come at all speaks volumes.  We know that Seaview’s secure.”

 

“And we’ll be doubly sure by the time he gets here.”  Lee and Chip exchanged a quick nod before both took their leave and headed forward.  Nelson secured the pouch in his wall safe, pondering the multitude of ramifications from their discovery.  With the right codes in the wrong hands, the possibilities were endless – and terrifying!

 

Nelson tended to stay out of Lee’s assignments for ONI beyond what Lee might need in the way of backup or pickup.  This – and he wasn’t sure yet what ‘this’ was – apparently went way beyond just ONI into high level national security.  Nelson had a good many connections all over the Pentagon – and elsewhere.  Most of them he trusted beyond doubt.  And yet…  But Robert Jones was one person Nelson could be extremely sure of.  A quick grin crossed his face – he doubted Chip felt quite that way about ONI’s Director.  But he immediately amended that thought.  Chip wouldn’t question Robert’s loyalty, only his seemingly cavalier attitude toward the agents he commanded – and in particular, Lee!  Chip had never lost his big-brother attitude toward the slightly younger Lee that had developed from their first days at Annapolis.  It absolutely never interfered with the chain of command.  The two men would never let that happen.  But there were times…  Nelson allowed his grin to grow over a few of the instances that had occurred, both during those first four years at the Naval Academy and now with them both at NIMR.  But the grin faded abruptly at thought of what he’d just tucked into his safe.

 

* * * *

 

0900 hours the following day found Nelson in the Observation Nose watching and listening as Lee prepared to receive Admiral Jones, a SH-60 Seahawk lowering ONI’s Director and his bags to the sub’s Conning Tower.  While Lee’s verbal commands were relayed to appropriate crew, each one did his job with such extreme precision that it was almost as if Seaview herself heard Lee and responded accordingly, so quickly were instructions followed.

 

Nelson wished that there was something he could say that would take some of the tension out of Lee’s shoulders and back. Nelson had watched his young captain get increasingly nervous as the hours passed from yesterday’s discovery.   Lee always seemed to take on the weight of the world as his personal problem – or at least it seemed so to those closest to him.  He’d had absolutely nothing to do with this latest problem but because he’d ended up involved he felt the pressure to ‘fix’ it.  Nelson had watched Chip try to tease Lee into relaxing a bit when he’d dragged Lee to dinner the night before.  And Lee had seemed better for Chip’s gentle harassment over how little he’d taken of what was usually one of his favorite meals – sweet and sour pork, fried rice, and cabbage salad with spicy chinese dressing.  Lee had finally relented and taken seconds.

 

Nelson had no idea how much sleep Lee had managed.  There were no clues from his outward appearance when Nelson wandered through the Conn about 0800 after eating breakfast by himself.  Cookie said that Chip and Lee had just left when Nelson entered the Wardroom at 0700.  Nothing was said directly, but from the chef’s expression Nelson figured that neither of his senior officers had eaten enough to make Cookie happy.  Will was just walking in as Nelson headed forward.  “Overslept,” came grumpily from the doctor, and Nelson smiled softly as Will made a beeline for the coffee urn.  There were times when it was best to give the doctor his own space and this seemed, for whatever reason, to be one of them.

 

Admiral Jones had sent a brief message yesterday evening to expect him about 0900 so Nelson relaxed in the Nose awaiting his arrival, casually watching and listening to the Conn crew.  The tension level had risen as everyone prepared for the other admiral’s arrival.  As the hatch was opened he joined Lee at the base of the ladder, Jones’ expression as he hit the bottom only adding to the uneasy atmosphere.  Short greetings were exchanged, Jones’ bags sent by crewman to guest quarters “A”, and Nelson led the way to his cabin with Lee and Chip bringing up the rear.  Once there Nelson retrieved the pouch from his safe and Chip opened the flash drives for Jones.

 

The reaction was explosive but short-lived, thankfully, on Jones’ part, and Lee explained the circumstances of how they’d ended up with the intel.  Jones could only shake his head before his expression went from anger to puzzled, although he remained quiet.

 

Nelson took the lead.  “Have you heard from this Melville-person?”

 

“No,” came out in a growl, before a long release of air.  “Damn,” came out softly.

 

“I think maybe a better idea of just what’s going on would be in order?”  Jones glared at him, then at Chip.  “Lt. Cdr. Morton is already involved,” Nelson told him, and Jones let out another expanse of air before everyone found a place to sit.  Chip stayed where he was, in Nelson’s chair.  Nelson and Jones took the visitor’s chairs, and Lee settled a hip on the corner of Nelson’s desk. 

 

Jones sent another glance around.  Getting nothing in return but expectant expressions, he sighed heavily once more and finally surrendered to what was apparently the inevitable.  “We got wind, totally by accident a couple of months ago, of a group operating out of Norfolk.  We didn’t have any details, just…something was going on.”

 

“Navy personnel?” Lee asked.

 

Jones frowned.  “Some.  That’s part of what triggered our interest.”  Lee sent him a nod.  Over his years of ONI involvement Lee had developed a level of respect for Admiral Jones.  And, he thought, Jones for him.  Never would he consider it actual friendship.  But Lee was comfortable asking questions during a briefing, and Jones usually seemed amiable to the interruptions.  “We sent a man in to do a bit of snooping.”  He glanced at Nelson, who mini-glared back.  Lee and Chip shared a very quick glance, and Jones continued.  “One day I get a quick note that he’s getting close, thinks he’s found something, and the next night he’s found dead in an alley, his blood alcohol level over .2!”  Jones all but growled.  “No way!” he told the others adamantly.

 

Again it was Lee who questioned.  “The coroner found nothing irregular – well, besides the alcohol?”

 

Jones’ expression was fierce.  “No!”  He glared at Lee, seemed to realize that wouldn’t get him anywhere, and continued slightly more under control.  “Death was ruled accidental; that he’d been blind drunk, stumbled and fell down, and died by inhaling his own vomit.”

 

“You thought he got too close and they took him out – whoever ‘they’ are,” Lee said carefully.  While he had some experience dealing with admirals’ tempers tantrums he wasn’t immune from their effects.  He saw Nelson send him a very quick grin and had a feeling that admiral knew exactly why Lee had chosen that particular tone of voice.

 

Jones continued to frown, but finally nodded.  “It’s the only thing that made sense, no matter what the ‘official’ verdict was.”

 

As he seemed disinclined to continue, appearing to be lost in his own memories of a mission turned sour, Nelson prodded ever so slightly.  “So?” he asked.

 

Jones shook himself back into the present.  “So, we started over.  We couldn’t investigate Channing’s death too rigorously without tipping our hand that we knew it was anything other than an accident so I reached out to the son of an old friend, now a supply Master Sergeant at Norfolk.”  He glanced at Nelson.  “He hates ONI, but he hates enemies of our Armed Forces even more,” he said almost sheepishly.  “He’s a tough nut.  Old school.  But his crew thinks the sun rises and sets in his six so he sometimes picks up bits of chatter.”  Again he paused and no one this time said anything.  Chip did send Lee a quick grin – Seaview’s CO had that same kind of relationship with his crew.  They respected him like they respected no other person, with the possible exception of the XO.  He and Lee realized that Nelson had caught the quick exchange and ducked their heads slightly as the Admiral also grinned.  Jones apparently saw ‘something’ and sent a look around.  But Seaview’s officers said nothing so he finally continued.

 

“Master Sergeant Blair said that scuttlebutt had a small handful of twenty-somethings, both male and female, hanging around some of the local haunts.  Nothing outwardly a problem.  Just…seemed to have money, seemed to be enjoying themselves, and chatting up anyone and everyone else.  Especially, it seemed to some of the guys under Blair, Navy personnel.  But,” he added quickly, “not just Navy.”  He glanced around to see if the others understood, and all three nodded.

 

“Recruiting,” Lee gave the most obvious meaning.  “But for what?”

 

Jones shrugged.  “No idea.  A week after Channing was murdered – and he was, I don’t care what the official verdict was – the group left.  Blair was able to learn, from one of his crew who has civilian friends in the area, that the group did mention something about Patrick Air Force Base, near Canaveral.  As it turned out we already had an operative in deep cover near there as a bartender.  Piece of luck, that.  Well,” he frowned, “maybe not so much for him,” and he gestured toward the computer monitor.  All four men shuddered slightly.  “Walsh – Melville – kept his eyes and ears open, heard about a small group of affluent newcomers to the area, and managed to snag a job working where they chose mostly to hang out.”

 

Lee nodded.  “Good cover.  Bartenders often wander from job to job, sort of non-persons for the most part.  People just kind of ignore them.”

 

“Walsh kept his head down but his ears open.  I’d arranged for a contact, friend of a friend at Patrick, to drop in for a drink every few days.”  Nelson carefully controlled a grin, but apparently a bit of it appeared anyway as he saw Lee bury one as well.  One of the multitude of reasons Jones was so good at his job – he had friends everywhere!  Nelson glanced at Chip but ‘the best poker face on the sub’ either hadn’t caught the quip or, more likely, chose to ignore it.  “Over a week went by without Walsh picking up a thing.  We were beginning to think that we’d been totally mistaken – that this group were just a bunch of fun loving rich kids.”

 

Jones was quiet for so long that Nelson exchanged glances with Lee, and took a turn at nudging the other admiral.  “Something must have changed,” he offered softly.

 

The expletive shouted back was anything but soft.  But then Jones gave himself a shake and continued more under control.  “Yeah.  Geraldson made one of his casual early evening stops – giving the impression that he was headed home from a day at the office and merely stopped for a beer on the way.  Walsh was extremely jumpy, he said.  Weird, ‘cause Walsh is always so laid back, under control.  He brought Geraldson his beer and quickly walked away.  It took Geraldson until he was mostly done with the drink to realize that there was a tiny corner of a piece of paper sticking out from under the coaster Walsh had put the glass on.  He casually pocketed the note with one hand as he polished off the beer with the other, and just as casually walked out.  Once in his car he glanced at the note.  It was a string of numbers; it meant nothing to him but he passed them on to me when he got home.”  An actual growl came out of his mouth and he glared at Nelson.  “Cryptology identified it as an account at a D.C. bank in the name of Simon Lasky.  We’ve been unable to put a face to the name.”  Again he paused, and again Nelson prodded.

 

“Gotta be more to it than that,” he said carefully, “to set you off like it did.”

 

Jones glared at him but nodded.  “Once a month that account gets a big, fat, deposit from a bank in the Cayman Islands.  A bank known to handle Al Qaeda funds.”

 

“Damn!”  Nelson did a bit of growling of his own.  He noticed both Lee and Chip stiffen, but both stayed quiet.  “No way to trace the money to see exactly where it’s coming from?”

 

“Still being worked on,” Jones told him.  “So far, nothing that directly ties it together.  But…”

 

“Yeah,” Nelson agreed.

 

“So…” Lee asked, his back still stiff.

 

“So…” Jones glanced at him, “Geraldson didn’t dare alter his seemingly casual stopping by the bar – he’d go every two to three days, no actual schedule.  The next time he stopped Walsh wasn’t on duty.”

 

“Oh, oh,” Lee muttered softly.

 

“Geraldson asked, all casual like as he ordered his beer, where ‘Hermie’ was – that’s the first name Walsh was using there.”

 

Lee half grinned “Hermie – as in Herman Melville,” he put it together.  Jones merely shrugged but Chip sent his friend a small grin.

 

“Geraldson was told that ‘Hermie’ had taken a couple days off.  When he reported that, I asked if the group Walsh was watching had been in the bar and was told that they weren’t there either, although that apparently was nothing new.  Geraldson stopped in early evenings, like I said, and sometimes the group would just be walking in as he was leaving.”

 

“When Geraldson stopped two days later Walsh was there.  No sign of the group but again Walsh didn’t want to chat, and again there was a note under the beer coaster, this one asking for the meet to be set up on the beach.”

 

“Is that how Walsh knew it was me coming?” Lee asked.

 

Jones sent him a brief glare.  “No,” he once more had a growl in his voice.  “I have no idea how he knew that.  He had the meet time he wanted on that note; we’ve had no further contact with him.”  He shrugged, almost to himself.  “I have no idea who I’d have sent in but I’d just heard that Seaview was in the area…”

 

“How?” Nelson all but demanded.  While this cruise wasn’t exactly a secret he still wanted to know.

 

“Ran into Jiggs Stark at the Pentagon.  Not sure how he knew…”

 

Nelson snorted.  “He was ticked that my research took precedence over his proposed war games.”  He looked smug as both Lee and Chip had to bury grins.  “Did Walsh know Lee by sight?  Could he have been at the beach meet, seen Lee, but not been able for some reason to complete the transfer?”

 

“Who knows?” Jones grumbled.  “But that makes as much sense as anything.”

 

“What now?” Lee asked quietly.  He was glad that there was a desk between he and Chip – his XO was not looking happy at Lee’s oh-so-typical involving himself with the ONI project.

 

Jones was quiet for a few seconds before his hand smacked the top of the desk.  “This is impossible.  I don’t even know where to start, who could be involved.  Even telling the departments involved that their codes have been compromised could alert the wrong person and all hell could break loose before we even know where said ‘hell’ is coming from.”

 

“The codes are changed on a regular basis?”  This from Chip as he still glared slightly at Lee.

 

“Weekly,” Jones confirmed.  “But if this is, indeed, an inside job, as Walsh indicated…”

 

“I don’t understand,” again from Chip as he sent a puzzled expression at Lee.  “Why was it so important to get the codes out?”

 

“If nothing else,” Lee enlightened him, “to let us know which departments were being put at risk.”  Chip nodded at that bit of logic.  “I gather,” Lee continued to Jones, “that his body hasn’t turned up?”

 

Before Jones could answer, the intercom buzzed and Sparks’ voice said, “Sorry, sirs, to interrupt.  Incoming call for Admiral Jones on a secure line.”

 

“Put it through,” Nelson told his radioman, and handed Jones the receiver. 

 

Jones’ end of the short conversation consisted of nothing more than a few grunts, and ended with a growled, “Keep me posted,” before he slammed the receiver back down.  He was silent for a bit, but finally took a deep breath and sent a quick glance at the others.  “Lt. Cdr. Andreas,” he identified the caller with a quick look at Lee, and Lee nodded.  Andreas was Jones’ aide, and a friend of Lee’s.  “A body’s been found.  Too badly burned for quick identification but the car it was found in was the one Walsh was using.  Went over an embankment and burst into flames.”

 

“That’s a crock,” Lee muttered.  “I know that it’s all the rage for TV and movies, but cars just don’t usually do that.  At least,” he added, “without help.”  He got nods from the others before switching gears.  “Were you able to I.D. any of the group he was watching?”

 

“Walsh was supposed to get pictures of them on his phone camera, but if he ever did he didn’t get them sent.”

 

“Or they were intercepted,” came softly from Chip, and Lee and Nelson frowned.

 

Jones sent him a glare.  “By who?” he demanded.

 

No love for Jones made Chip speak before thinking.  “How should I know?  It’s your leak.”

 

Jones seemed ready to keelhaul the insolent blond before Nelson laid a hand gently on Jones’ arm.  “He’s only speaking the truth,” he pointed out.

 

“Harrumph,” Jones growled, and all three Seaview officers had to bury a smirk at Jones’ perfect imitation of Nelson’s usual sign of irritation.  “This is intolerable!”

 

“Do you have any kind of description?” Lee still wanted to know.

 

Jones frowned.  “Mid to late twenty’s.  Three men, American-looking.  Two women, ditto.”

 

“Name of the bar?” Lee continued.

 

“Lee, what are you thinking?” Nelson demanded.

 

“They have to be identified, sir.  Walsh knew that; I don’t understand why he didn’t get pictures sent.  I can go in as a tourist, try to find them and snap a few pics…”

 

“No!” Nelson cut him off.

 

But Lee wasn’t to be distracted.  “Sir, you know it needs doing.”

 

“And if Walsh was, indeed on the beach the other night, and was stopped from meeting with you by one of the group, they could now easily recognize you.  Two good agents have already gone down.”

 

Lee thought about that for only a second.  “So, we send Chip.”

 

“Me!” the blond all but squeaked.  “Why me?” came out with more of his usual XO confidence.

 

“It’s your turtle,” Lee told him with a small grin.  Nelson snorted.  Jones just sent looks back and forth between the other three.  “Look, Chip.  You’re totally unknown in ONI circles…”

 

“Got that right,” Chip muttered.  He didn’t so much disapprove of ONI, actually, as he did of Lee’s continued involvement with it.

 

“You’re a gregarious person by nature; you enjoy the bar scene; you’d fit right in, and no one would give you a second glance.  Kowalski can go with you – help watch your back.”

 

“I can watch my own back, thank you,” Chip sent his CO a very politically incorrect glare.  But he understood Lee’s double meaning – Senior Rating Kowalski was one of Seaview’s most fearless crewmen, perfect as a second in any fight.  And, like Chip, he was totally at home with the bar scene - amiable, laid back, and fitting right in.  Chip sent Lee a quick nod of understanding and Lee nodded back before looking at Nelson.

 

“Chip?”  Nelson still wanted to make sure his XO was okay with Lee’s plan.

 

The blond shrugged.  “Better than Sharkey,” he said by way of acceptance.  “The Chief would want to wear one of his gawdawful Hawaiian shirts and we’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

 

Nelson snorted before turning to Jones.  That admiral hesitated.  He knew only too well how protective Nelson was of his crew – and especially his officers.  If he was willing to go along with Crane’s plan, far be it for him to squash it.  He did wonder what Crane’s crack about the turtle was in reference to but chose not to touch it.  “Place called ‘The Windjammer’, in Melbourne, south end of Merritt Island.”

 

“That’s a long way from where he called the meet; clear the other end of Merritt Island,” was Lee’s observation.

 

“Maybe the point?” Nelson asked.  “Well away from the group.  Or, so he hoped.”  He turned to Jones.  “Where was the car found?”

 

Jones seemed disinclined to answer, but finally did.  “Titusville – about halfway between the two places.”

 

Lee nodded.  “A seeming disconnect to anything.  And along those lines…”  His voice trailed off.

 

“Crane,” spoken harshly, interrupted Lee’s pondering and he sent Admiral Jones, the speaker, a raised eyebrow.

 

But it was Nelson who continued.  “We are all far too familiar with your convoluted thought processes,” that admiral muttered gruffly. 

 

Lee ducked his head and sent his boss a sheepish look, but nonetheless continued.  “We fly Chip and Kowalski to Grand Bahama Island by FS1, they catch a flight to Orlando, rent a car, and drive to Melbourne.  That should sufficiently confuse the enemy.”

 

“If we arrive at all,” Chip muttered.  “Right through the Bermuda Triangle.”

 

“No problem,” Lee came back with.  “You’ll be aware of where you are.  Seems the only ones who disappear are the ones who ignore their surroundings.”

 

Nelson didn’t get that snort buried despite the seriousness of the situation, so typical a retort was it from his two senior officers, and then had to face the ferocious glare Jones sent him.  He shrugged.  “Get used to it, Robert,” he told the other admiral.  “Goes on all the time around here.”

 

“I’d rather not,” Jones muttered, and both Lee and Chip ducked.  “But,” he conceded, “it’s a good plan.”  He suddenly glared at Chip.  “You’ll report back here,” and it wasn’t a question.

 

“Of course,” Chip assured him, then glanced at Lee.

 

“If it seems feasible he can transmit securely to Sparks,” Lee told Jones.  “Depends on if they need to get the heck out of there,” he sent a stern look toward Chip, “or if it’s safe to hang out and wait for further instructions.”  Chip sent the look right back.

 

“Gentlemen,” Nelson decided that he’d better take back command of the situation, “I believe that you both have arrangements to make.”

 

“Yes, sir,” came back in stereo, and the two younger men rose and left.

 

Nelson turned to Jones, crossed his arms over his chest, sat back in his chair, and crossed his legs.  He said nothing but there was no doubt about the look he sent Jones.

 

Jones thought about trying to blow Nelson off, reconsidered whom he was dealing with and who else was now involved, and sighed heavily.

 

But in the end it was Nelson who broke the silence.  “When did you know it was your department?”  His voice was actually fairly soft.

 

Jones frowned, but gestured toward the computer monitor.  “When I read Walsh’s note.  It’s the only way – despite your theory – that he knew Crane was going in.”  He suddenly got thoughtful.  “When did you figure it out?”

 

Nelson sent his old friend a sad smile.  “When you agreed to come here,” he admitted.  “No idea who, obviously, or you would already have shut it down.”

 

“Not a clue,” Jones admitted.  “Not for lack of some careful checking and double-checking.  In several places, not just my own house.  But now…”

 

“This fellow Andreas?”

 

“Not a chance.”  He frowned.  “And not just because he’s a friend of Crane’s,” he added strongly, causing Nelson to grin.  “While he does have access to sensitive materials and intel it might be difficult for others to get their hands on…”  He hesitated.  “No,” he settled on firmly.

 

Nelson had no reason to doubt Jones’ instincts; or Lee’s, for that matter.  “How can I help?”

 

It was Jones’ turn to snort.  “I’d say you already have.  Although, I can only hole up here just so long.”

 

Nelson chuckled, no matter the seriousness of the situation.  “Jiggs frequently accuses me of hiding from him.”  He sent Jones a grin.  “He’s not always wrong.”

 

* * * *

 

Despite Chip’s disparaging thoughts about the trip, he and Kowalski arrived right on schedule in Orlando.  He even made Seaview’s Senior Rating laugh when, instead of picking a nice sensible rental for the drive to the coast, he chose a candy apple red convertible.  While not quite as small as Lee’s sporty little model, both men immensely enjoyed themselves on the ride.

 

Kowalski still wasn’t quite sure just what was going on.  While there had been musings all over the boat about what had been found attached to the turtle – and if that wasn’t one of the craziest things…  But scuttlebutt was kept quiet – the Skipper didn’t like a lot of idol gossip and the crew had too much respect for him to get caught.  Then suddenly they’re welcoming aboard the Director of the Office of Naval Intelligence.  And on top of that, instead of the Skipper taking off to wherever, it was the XO who was going – everyone knew he hated ONI!  And the Skipper was requesting – well, ordering, although that’s not how he said it – Ski to go with Mr. Morton.

 

Good sailor that he was, Ski kept his mouth shut.  He knew that he’d be told what he needed to know when he needed to know it.  He’d grabbed a bag of civilian clothes and his passport as requested, and headed forward to FS1’s hatch.  The Skipper had said only one thing more to him.  As he passed the chart table Crane had snagged his arm, nodded toward the XO who was just starting down the ladder into the little Flying Sub, and whispered, “Watch his back.”

 

At the time Ski had just nodded, and hurried to catch up.  But the more he thought about those three words, the more his role in whatever was going on made sense.  He knew that Crane trusted him, maybe even more so than any others on the crew, although he wasn’t conceited enough to ever let it go to his head.  But over everyone else Crane had made it clear that he was trusting Ski with the welfare of Crane’s best friend.  He still had no idea what he was protecting the XO from but that didn’t matter – the Skipper had put his faith in Kowalski to handle whatever was going on.  That thought sent a bit of a warm glow through the rating and he vowed that no way was he going to let Crane down.

 

Chip wasn’t sure what to think.  He always yelled at Lee for blithely walking into whatever war zone Jones decided to send him with little or no intel, and here he was doing exactly the same thing.  He had no idea what thoughts were going through Kowalski’s mind but had decided that he’d keep the details of this trip to himself until they were closer to Melbourne.  Chief Sharkey had piloted FS1 to Grand Bahama Island.  The COB had angled – carefully – for some idea of what was going on but Chip had closed him down with a glare.  While Chip did greatly appreciate how Sharkey ran his boat and crew, he didn’t always appreciate the COB treating him more as an equal than his superior officer.  And while he was a great COB, he could run off at the mouth more than Chip tolerated well.  The flight to Orlando had also been no place for a private chat with Kowalski.  Nor was picking a convertible the best choice for conversing on the drive.  But the instant he’d laid eyes on the vehicle he couldn’t resist, and laughed outright at Ski’s delighted reaction to his choice.

 

There was one small distraction – just as he and the rating were getting into the vehicle a man, smallish in stature but powerfully built, walked up to him carrying a small duffle bag.  “Mr. Morton?” he asked politely.

 

“Yes,” Chip answered carefully, with absolutely no idea of what to expect.

 

The man half-smiled, and handed over the duffle.  “With Mr. Crane’s compliments,” was, however, all he said.  Once Chip had the bag the man turned abruptly and walked away, quickly disappearing between buildings.  Chip looked at Ski, who shrugged, and opened the bag.  Inside were four handguns, and enough ammo to supply a small army.  He motioned Ski into the car, and once there opened the bag enough to give the rating a glance inside.

 

“Never, ever, underestimate your CO,” Chip muttered as he closed the bag and stashed it behind Kowalski’s seat.

 

“No, sir,” Ski adamantly agreed, and wondered even more what the heck was going on.

 

At a rest area about halfway to the coast Chip stopped, parked well away from the other cars, and explained what he knew about what was going on and what they were being sent to do.  Ski asked few questions, letting his XO take the lead on whatever happened.  His part was to see that Morton had every opportunity to complete his mission, and protect him while he did it.  Before they took off to complete the drive he grabbed the small duffle and took possession of a 9mm that he tucked into the small of his back under his shirt, and a smaller gun that came complete with an ankle holster.  Chip chose the other 9mm, also carried like Ski, but didn’t grab the second ankle gun, then stowed the bag in the trunk with their other bags.

 

Once they reached Melbourne Chip found an out-of-the-way but clean motel and they settled in.  The ammo bag, however, stayed in the car.  Chip was actually enjoying this time with Kowalski, and beginning to realize why Lee found him so comfortable to be around.  He did have to admonish the rating about one thing – calling Chip ‘sir’.  But he grinned when he reminded Kowalski that he’d managed okay when joining Lee on their slightly warped adventure in Australia not that long ago* and since they were staying in a town called Melbourne everything should come back fairly easily.  Kowalski muttered that he’d managed – barely – to not screw up the Skipper’s cover, but he’d do his best.  They both grinned, and headed out to track down the bar.

 

It proved remarkably easy but, as it was still early, they scouted the area a bit and ended up at a beachy, touristy, restaurant.  After a hearty meal of a shared steamer clam appetizer followed by crab cakes for Chip and halibut for Kowalski, both with baked potatoes and roasted veggies, it was time to head for the bar.

 

There was a moment of indecision as Kowalski, used to Lee’s table preferences, wanted to head for a back corner table and Chip, wanting fairly easy visible access to the entire area, chose a more centrally located table.  Ski caught on to the logic quickly and they sat facing each other, each easily watching the other’s back.  They both ordered beer, something large enough to take awhile to casually drink without ingesting too much alcohol, and visited quietly.  Chip asked what Ski’s brother was up to – he hadn’t heard lately.  And when Ski seemed reluctant to quiz his XO, Chip volunteered his sisters’ latest trials and tribulations with their growing families.

 

The place seemed to be a combination of local hangout and comfortable tourist spot.  The clientele was a mix of younger people, laid back but not in the least rowdy or loud, and middle-aged people that looked like a combination of local business people and others just passing through.  It made for a very easy, relaxed group for Chip and Ski to fit into.

 

By 2020 hours they were both almost done with their second round of beers and ready to call this night a bust when a lone man walked in and looked around as if seeking a specific person.  When he apparently didn’t see whoever he was looking for he gestured behind him, and was followed in by four more, two males and two females.

 

“Bingo,” Ski muttered softly into his glass as he appeared to take a sip.  Chip almost smiled when the rating put the glass back on the table with no discernable lowering of the level of fluid in it.  What Chip found even more interesting was, there was a barely perceptible change to the atmosphere in the room. While the older patrons barely noticed the newcomers, a few of the younger group rather quickly paid their tabs and left.  “That was interesting,” Ski said softly.

 

“Noticed that, too, did you?” Chip replied with an almost smile.  Kowalski wasn’t Seaview’s Senior Rating only because he was one of her first crewmen.

 

The waitress, having gotten drink orders from the newcomers, sent a glance at Chip and Ski on her way back to the bar.  Chip didn’t really want a third beer but nodded anyway – he needed a reason to hang around long enough to try and get pictures of all five.  He wasn’t sure exactly how as they’d chosen a table slightly behind him and to his left, not that far away, and too easy for them to notice him if he turned in their direction.  Ski, however, seemed to already be working on it.  Using the returning waitress for a bit of a distraction, he pulled out his cell phone and pretended – at least Chip thought that he was pretending – to send a text.  He had a half-silly expression on his face and Chip finally caught on.

 

“Your current lady friend, I presume,” he told Ski with just enough carry in his voice to be heard – if they were listening – by the group.

 

Ski sent him a broad grin.  “Yep,” was, however, all he said, and kept playing with his phone.

 

Chip didn’t interrupt.  Kowalski lounged back in his chair, grin on his face, paying absolutely no attention to anything but his phone.  Or so it seemed.  There were appropriate pauses as Ski seemed to send a note and wait for a reply, reaching out to take a quick sip of his beer.  But his eyes barely moved from the screen of his phone.  This went on for almost ten minutes before Ski’s expression started to change.  First a spark of anger, then sadness, and finally back to anger as he abruptly stuffed the phone back in his pocket and all but drained his glass.

 

“The rest of your evening not going to go as planned?” Chip asked, the smile evident in both expression and voice.

 

“That…” Ski cut himself off and this time did drain the glass.

 

“Sorry,” Chip commiserated, with less of a smile.  “You want another beer?”

 

“Nah,” came back, after a pause and a long sigh.

 

Chip pushed his glass, still about two inches in the bottom, across the table.  “You can polish this off since I’m driving.”  He sent Ski what he felt was an appropriately commiserating look.

 

Kowalski hesitated, not quite sure, but nodded with another frown and drained the last of Chip’s beer.  “Thanks,” was muttered softly.

 

“Been there,” Chip told him honestly.  “Comes with the territory, unfortunately.”  He could see the rating try to decide if Chip was speaking a truth or merely continuing the charade and decide that he really didn’t want to know, at which Chip sent him another small grin and they both stood up.  Ski stayed where he was while Chip went over to the bar and paid their tab, then they both walked out.

 

As they were getting into their car Ski said quietly, his head still a bit down.  “Your nine o’clock.”

 

Chip stiffened ever so slightly, but glanced around casually as he reached for his seat belt and spotted a shadow by the corner of the building.  He didn’t dare stare but thought that it was a man.  “One of the guys from the bar?” he asked Ski as he fiddled with the seat belt.

 

The rating was slouched in the passenger seat looking half asleep.  Chip had no doubts at all that it was an act, and wondered just how much Lee had taught the rating on that trip to Australia.  “Don’t think so,” came softly.  “No way to get a shot of him, he’s too far in the shadows.”

 

“Not what we came for anyway,” Chip told him, started the car, and pulled out of his parking spot.  He was momentarily sidetracked by a car pulling in, and heard Ski shift positions in his seat.  But his concentration was elsewhere so wasn’t sure what the rating was up to.  After only a few seconds Chip’s way was free and he finished his turn and exited the parking lot.  He watched behind him for a couple of blocks but saw no one obviously following them, and then realized that Kowalski was surreptitiously doing the same thing.  “I keep telling Lee that working for ONI will make you paranoid,” he grumbled, not totally in jest.  Ski nodded, and they finished their drive back to the motel.

 

Once there, Chip closed the blinds.  He expected Ski to send the pictures he’d taken to Sparks but the rating seemed unsure at that point what to do.  “You need help sending the pics?” he asked.

 

“Ah, oh no, s…”  He caught himself.  “Just wondering if you wanted to do it.”

 

Chip grinned.  “You’ve managed just fine so far.”

 

“Yes, s…” again he caught himself.  Both men grinned, Kowalski a good deal more sheepishly than Chip, and Ski settled into a chair to send off the pictures.  Once that was done there was nothing to do except wait for further instructions.  They ran through the TV channels, finally settling on an old movie.

 

* * * *

 

Admirals Nelson and Jones were enjoying a glass of Nelson’s private stock in his cabin when there was a knock. ‘Enjoying’ was perhaps a misnomer for the current mood, but so far things had stayed fairly amiable between the two despite the obvious tension.  At Nelson’s call Lee entered and laid a handful of pictures on the desk.

 

Ski had done a good job – there were clear shots of all five people inside the bar.  The one he’d managed outside wasn’t nearly as good, unfortunately.  When both admirals sent Lee a strong look he merely shrugged.  “There wasn’t anything else, and I didn’t want to try calling until I’d spoken with you.”

 

Nelson reached out a hand and punched the intercom.  “Sparks, as secure a line as you can manage to Mr. Morton’s cell.”

 

“Aye, aye, sir.  Might take a second.  I need to do a bit of re-routing.”

 

Nelson pointed an eyebrow at Lee.  “I don’t question him, sir,” was Lee’s response to the unasked question.  “I’ve learned that it’s usually safer.”

 

Nelson snorted as Jones glared, but all three went back to studying the pictures until Nelson’s phone buzzed.  He hit the speaker button before asking casually, “You two men enjoying your brief vacation?”

 

“The food’s good, the beer’s cold.  Can’t complain,” was Chip’s comeback.  “Oh, and thank the guy who arranged our welcoming gift basket – he has excellent taste.”

 

Nelson snorted as Lee ducked his head.  “Consider it done,” Nelson told Chip, so broad a grin he knew that it came through the line.  “Who’s the extra?”

 

“Have no idea.  Not even sure if he wanted to join the party, and never got close enough to ask.”

 

“Humm,” was Nelson’s soft reply.  “You’re settled in for the night?”

 

“Snug as two bugs.”

 

“Relax and enjoy.”

 

“Plan to,” and both disconnected.

 

Nelson finally sent a raised eyebrow at Lee.  “Two 9mms, a couple smaller pieces, and plenty of ammo.  Friend of a friend,” Lee told his boss.  Weapons had been discussed before Chip and Ski left but because they were flying a commercial flight part of the way neither could take anything with them.

 

Through that whole conversation, while Admiral Jones had frowned at some of it, he’d kept his head buried in the photos.  Once Nelson hung up he pointed an eyebrow at the other admiral.  “Not a clue,” Jones muttered.  Lee carefully moved to where he could look over Jones’ shoulder.  He’d glanced at them on the way up but now paid a bit more attention, especially to the outside shot.

 

Nelson’s eyebrow changed directions.  “Not a clue, sirs,” Lee included Jones in the reply.

 

Jones tapped the shot taken outside.  “This one bothers me.”

 

“Why?” was Nelson’s immediate request.

 

It took Jones several seconds to answer.  “Actually, I don’t know.  Not for sure.  You can’t really see much.  But there’s just…something…”  He frowned more deeply.  “I don’t dare send these,” he slapped the pictures, “to my staff for identification.  Or even anyone at the Pentagon.”  His fist suddenly pounded Nelson’s desk.  “This is intolerable,” he all but shouted.

 

Nelson didn’t move for a few seconds, then shook his head softly and once more hit the intercom.  “Sparks, I need a line to NIMR Security, and once I’ve completed the call I need you to forward the pictures Kowalski sent.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“What are you doing?” Jones demanded.

 

“What, at the moment, you can’t,” Nelson told him dryly.  There was the briefest of pauses before NIMR’s Head of Security, Dewey Caudill, came on the line.  Caudill had been NIMR’s liaison to the Santa Barbara police as well as the California State Patrol for almost a dozen years, and had recently been appointed Chief of Security at NIMR as well, on the retirement of the previous Chief.  Besides having contacts everywhere, it seemed, he was respected and well liked by pretty much everyone at NIMR.  There had been some grumbles when he made a few changes to how a couple of issues were handled once he took over; nothing major, just tightening what he felt were a couple of small holes in base security.  Staff had quickly adjusted to the changes and the grumbles stopped.  “Dewey, I need a favor.” Nelson started easily.

 

“Of course, sir,” came back respectfully.

 

Nelson grinned softly.  It always gave him a good feeling when the thought went through his head, like now, of how lucky he’d been in his life to be able to do pretty much anything he wanted, and to have surrounded himself with people always ready and able to help him do it.  “Sparks is going to send you pictures of six people.  One of them is pretty dark so I’m not holding out much hope for that one.  But we need I.D.s on as many as you can get.  Ah, and we can’t go through standard channels, at least tied to Seaview.  I don’t mind so much if it’s a NIMR security check.  But…discretion is preferred.”

 

“Got a friend,” Dewey told him.  “I’ll get right on it.”

 

Nelson glanced at his watch, then remembered the time difference.  “Sooner than later would be better.”

 

“Understood, sir,” and both broke the connection.

 

Almost immediately the intercom buzzed.  “Yes, Sparks?  Problems sending the pictures?”

 

“No, sir.  Just getting ready.  But there’s a call for Admiral Jones, priority line, from his office.”

 

Nelson almost grinned as Lee immediately turned to leave.  “Crane, stay,” Jones ordered the brunet.  Nelson’s expression turned to a frown as Lee came almost to Attention.  Jones glared at Nelson.  “What am I supposed to do?  I can’t trust anyone.”

 

“I agree,” Nelson commiserated.  “But it’s also why I wanted you here, where we can control what intel goes where.  It was the best solution I could come up with.”

 

Jones still glared, but nodded and pointed to the intercom.  Nelson had Sparks put the call through and once more hit the speaker button.  “Jones,” that admiral growled.

 

“Sir,” came the voice of Lt. Cdr. Roger Andreas, Jones’ aide, “sorry to bother you, sir, but when I heard nothing from you…”

 

“Something’s come up,” Jones muttered.  He hesitated, then continued.  “It’s personal.  Heaven only knows I’ve got enough leave time built up to take the next two years off,” came out in a loud grumble.  “Tell Capt. Kells to deal with the Lowen situation.  Nothing else is all that urgent, no matter what Rear Admiral Garnet thinks.”  Both Nelson and Lee had to quickly bury choked off snorts.  “Anything you, and only you, think is important, call me here.  Tell everyone else that I’ll be back when I’m good and ready.”

 

“Aye, aye, sir,” came back somewhat hesitantly before Jones broke the connection.

 

“Andreas is a good man, Admiral Jones,” Lee said softly.  “He’ll manage just fine.”

 

“He shouldn’t have to,” Jones all but yelled.

 

“No, sir,” Lee agreed.  “But sometimes you just have to manage a situation the best way you can for the best outcome.”  He got glares from both admirals for that crack – Lee’s occasionally offbeat solutions to issues often got him in trouble with both of them.  But both also knew that Lee was usually right, no matter what route he used to get there, so they both finally just looked at each other and shook their heads as Lee once more ducked his slightly.

 

“Go put your boat to bed for the night,” Nelson told his captain sternly, although there was a bit of a sparkle in his eyes.  “And you follow suit,” came out somewhat more strongly.

 

“Yes, sir,” Lee told him, a bit of his shy little smile appearing.  “Good night, sirs,” and he left.

 

As Jones sent an introspective look towards the closed door, Nelson poured each of them another finger of scotch.  “You’d never survive him full-time, Robert.”  He chuckled when the look turned into a glare as it was redirected towards him.  “I have the whole boat, half of NIMR, and Lee’s best friend in the world, Chip Morton, to keep track of him.  There are times we barely manage.”

 

“Harrumph,” Jones growled, and downed his drink.

 

* * * *

 

Lee hit the Control Room about 0750 after breakfast with Admiral Nelson and Dr. Jamison.  So far Admiral Jones was a no-show.  Nelson said that the light was still on in the guest cabin at 0300.  Neither Lee nor Will questioned how he knew that but Lee was extremely glad that, still awake at 0130, he’d tossed a towel against the bottom of his door when he gave up trying to sleep and spent the rest of the night at his desk doing paperwork.

 

Seaview was still basically holding station.  Lee had Sparks send a quick message to Chip to also hold station.  He knew that it wasn’t necessary.  But he also knew that one of Chip’s pet peeves with ONI was a lack of details, especially communications.  Lee knew that Chip understood the all too frequent need to avoid unnecessary chatter.  But Lee wanted to give Chip as normal a feeling as possible under the circumstances and the quick call, words carefully chosen on both sides, would be greatly appreciated.

 

When Admirals Nelson and Jones appeared in the Nose just before 1000 hours Lee informed both of the call.  Jones was just opening his mouth – what he was going to say Lee wasn’t sure but his expression wasn’t overly pleasant – when Sparks called forward that there was a call from NIMR for Admiral Nelson.  Lee glanced at Lt. Chris James, who had the Conn, then stepped over to close the crash doors as Nelson instructed Sparks to send the call forward.

 

“Sorry it took so long, Admiral,” Dewey started.  It caused both Nelson and Lee to grin.  The man had been given a horrible task, at night, and he was apologizing for not having an instant response.  Typical of the extremely conscientious man.

 

“What do you have in such an impossibly short time?” Nelson asked, a smile in his voice.

 

“Picture one” Sparks had numbered them when he sent them and given Lee the list when he’d floated through the Conn before crashing.  Lee had dropped a copy of the list with Nelson on the way to his cabin “is Les Gaines.  Picture four is his sister, Ann.  Pictures two and five are Neal and Olivia Alexander, husband and wife.  Number three is Bruce DeMarco.  He might or might not be Ann Gaines’ fiancée.  All five met, we think, as students at Harvard.  All have rich parents; all are supposedly traveling, seeing the country, no known plans or agenda.  Best I could do.”  He sounded almost apologetic.  “My friend is still working on number six, trying to lighten it, clean it up.  Don’t have anything yet.”

 

“That’s a great plenty,” Nelson assured him.  “So it looks like just a bunch of rich kids killing time and money?  Nothing else?”

 

“We’re still checking backgrounds.”  He didn’t specify who ‘we’ were.  “But so far they look clean.  No weird political ties.  No suspicious activity – well, a few drunk and disorderly notations but that was mostly in college.  Nothing recent except a couple of speeding tickets for Les Gaines.”

 

“Where?” Lee asked.

 

“Ahh…new Jersey, last month.  Norfolk three weeks ago.”

 

“What are they driving?” was Lee’s next question.

 

“Lexus XL570, black,” and he read off the license plate.  “Registered to Gaines the elder’s construction company.”  He paused again.  “Best we can do for now.  You want us to dig deeper, check into their financials, etc?”

 

Both Lee and Nelson looked at Jones, who was looking extremely sour.  “Not at this time,” Nelson told Dewey.  “Do look out for the name Simon Lasky in conjunction with this bunch.”  He paused.  “Maybe the number six picture?”

 

“Do my best, sir.”

 

“No need to tell you, none of this ever happened.”

 

“None of what, sir,” and there was a soft chuckle over the line.  Both Lee and Nelson smiled. 

 

“Good man,” Nelson told Dewey and broke the connection.

 

“What the blazes is going on?” Jones all but shouted, and Lee was glad that the crash doors were still closed.  “That bunch is nothing but a collection of rich kids wasting their parents’ money.”

 

“Doesn’t seem like they’d be responsible for a breach of national security,” Nelson agreed.  “Not to mention the cause of two good agents’ deaths.”

 

“I’ll let Chip know about the vehicle.”  Lee headed for the button to open the crash doors.  “Anything else?”

 

Nelson glanced at Jones, who was looking even more sour than before, and shook his head.  “Just have him keep his eyes open as he and Ski play tourist.”

 

“Yes, sir.

 

But Sparks had barely delivered the information when the radioman announced an urgent incoming message from Seaview’s XO.  Lee tracked the two admirals to Nelson’s lab, but Nelson had Sparks send the call to his cabin and had Lee meet he and Jones there.  The news made everything even weirder.

 

“What’s up, Chip?” Nelson asked when the call was connected.  Again, he had the phone on speaker.

 

“The morning news is announcing a terrible crash just down the coast from here.  A Lexus, black, five people inside, all DOA.  Kowalski is playing ‘looky lou’ and trying to get the license plate.”  A word came out of Admiral Jones’ mouth that wasn’t often heard on Seaview.  “Got that right,” was muttered over the line.

 

“Confirm the plates, then get your six’s back here,” Lee ordered.  Neither admiral contradicted him.  “Call when you confirm your flight to Grand Bahama.”  He paused, then added with an almost grin, “Leave your toys in the bag in the trunk of the rental, wiped clean.  I’ll arrange retrieval when I have your schedule.”

 

“Works for me,” Chip quipped and the line went dead.

 

Nobody said anything for several seconds, then Jones pulled out the small packet of pictures that Kowalski had sent; he’d taken possession of them and apparently carried them with him constantly.  Now he rifled through them until he came to the unknown one.  He said nothing, just stared at it.  Nelson punched the intercom.  “Sparks, a message to Dewey.”

 

“Aye, sir?”

 

“All due haste, whatever and whoever is necessary.  I.D. sixth picture.”

 

“Aye, aye, sir.”

 

The next few hours went by slowly.  Lee wasn’t sure how Nelson kept Jones occupied but he saw neither of them until lunch.  Lee actually hadn’t planned on eating.  He was extremely keyed up; waiting wasn’t ever easy for him and the first thing to suffer was usually his appetite.  But Chief Sharkey tracked him down in Engineering and in his slightly unsubtle way ‘suggested’ that Lee meet the admirals in the Wardroom.  Lee surrendered gracefully; tension on the boat was already going up and Lee didn’t want to make it worse.  While details weren’t shared, the crew was well aware that whatever had caused Jones to appear, and Chip and Kowalski to leave, was serious.

 

He needn’t have worried – the two admirals ate barely more than his meager efforts.  He saw Jamie give Cookie a shrug of the shoulders; the chef didn’t like it when anyone, and especially the officers, weren’t eating as much as he thought they should.

 

Nelson managed a slight release of tensions after the meal – he had Seaview moved a couple of nautical miles closer to the coast, and divers sent out to collect water and soil samples in this fairly shallow area.  Lee didn’t ask why, nor did he assign himself to any of the dive teams.  He wasn’t needed in the Conn – Lt. James was becoming an excellent Conn officer, and with Chip gone Lt. Bryson was acting as James’ second.  But Lee refused to be that far away from the radio even though he could still be notified when Chip called in.  He figured that Nelson might be having some issues with Jones as, just after the divers went out, the two admirals left in FS1 for what Nelson referred to as a bit of a scouting and sample-taking trip of his own.  Chief Sharkey went along, and Lee didn’t envy him being confined with those two for a couple of hours.

 

But the radio stayed silent.  No report from Dewey, no call from Chip.  By the time Nelson and Jones got back at 1645 hours Lee was about ready to smack something.  Anything!  And the only reason it hadn’t so far happened was, he caught Lt. James carefully watching him as he paced in the Nose and around the Conn.  He grimaced and walked over to the young lieutenant.  “That bad?” he asked quietly.  James ducked his head, but nodded.  Lee took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Noted,” he told James with half a grin.  About that time Nelson called in that he was back, and Lee opened the docking bay doors for the little craft.

 

But Lee’s concern at the silence was mirrored by the two admirals.  While Sharkey took Nelson’s samples to his lab, the three walked back to the radio shack and placed a call to Chip to find out what was holding he and Kowalski up.

 

No answer.  From either man’s cell.  Sparks knew where they were staying and tried that number; they hadn’t checked out.  “Now what the…” and Lee’s tension spilled over as his left hand snaked out and he slammed the bulkhead with his fist.

 

Nelson’s quick glance around the Conn showed stiff backs on everyone – Lee almost never let his temper get the best of him in as open a place as the Conn.  “Lee,” was all that he said, but it was enough.

 

“Sorry, sir,” Lee apologized.  “Permission to…”

 

“No,” Nelson cut him off.  “You’re not going over to search for them.”

 

“Sir…”

 

“NO!  Not without more information.”  Nelson reached out a hand and laid it on Lee’s shoulder.  “I understand.  You know that.  But we notify the local LEO’s** that we have crew missing.  I’m not risking anyone else, especially you, until we have more to go on.”

 

Lee knew that Nelson was right.  His “Yes, sir,” still came out in an almost snarl.  Nelson didn’t take it personally, considering the circumstances, and had Sparks notify the local authorities to try and locate the two missing men.  Lee stalked back to the chart table and ostensibly started scanning the information on whichever clipboard he picked up.  As Sparks started contacting the locals Nelson noticed Jones giving him an odd look.  “Do not ever, for any reason, get between Lee and his crew,” Nelson told the other admiral softly.  “You won’t like the consequences.”

 

* * * *

 

“The Skip’s gonna kill me,” Kowalski muttered to himself.  “Of course, that’s if I’m not already dead!  The last thing he said – watch the XO’s back.  And what do you do?  I’ll never live this one down.”

 

Everything had been going fine.  Well, as fine as it could be when the five people he and Mr. Morton had been sent to identify were now dead.  He and the XO had eaten breakfast and were contemplating their next move when they’d heard the news flash on the radio.  They decided that it would be better if only one of them tried to get nosy at the scene, and a quick Rock-Paper-Scissors – what the XO insisted on calling Roshambo – had Ski grabbing the car keys and taking off.  Boy, what a sweet ride!

 

The local cops weren’t letting anyone stop at the accident scene – well, the cops were no doubt thinking accident; Ski had other ideas.  The rig had apparently missed a turn and smacked head-on into a retaining wall.  The wall won!  But Ski was able, as the cops waved him around the mess, to catch enough of the license plate to be pretty sure it was the right rig.  The model and color matched, along with the number of people killed.  Ski figured that age group was no doubt not wearing their seat belts.  Looking at what was left of the rig, and the number of official vehicles still at the scene, Ski reached down and double-checked that his own belt was securely latched and headed back to the motel.

 

That’s when everything went south.  He’d barely slipped his key card into the motel room door when it was yanked wide open from inside.  He didn’t even have time to be surprised – the motion of the door pulled him inside, something hit him hard on the back of the head, and everything went black.

 

With no idea of how much time had passed he very slowly came back to awareness – and for a brief moment wished that he hadn’t.  The pain in his head was excruciating.  The flash passed quickly and he started assessing his situation.  He was almost glad that it was dark – he wasn’t sure his eyes could handle light at that point.  Was he blindfolded?  No – his eyelids did open.  Round one for him.

 

Round two went to the bad guy or guys.  Wherever Ski was, it was extremely cramped.  His hands weren’t tied – Ski found that weird but decided quickly to not look that gift horse in the mouth and carefully started checking his small enclosure.  His aching brain almost immediately came up with ‘car trunk’, and only a moment later knew which car trunk when his feet hit something small and heavy and he realized that it was the small duffle with the ammunition for his and Mr. Morton’s guns.  He checked – both of his weapons were gone.  But if they left the bag…  Ski wiggled until he could reach around and pull the bag closer.  Stupid bad guys.  He almost grinned as he opened the bag and his hand found the small ankle gun that Mr. Morton had chosen not to wear.  By feel he found the right ammo and loaded the weapon.

 

Ski had heard no sounds from outside the trunk since regaining consciousness.  No traffic, no voices.  Nothing.  He wiggled some more until he found the glow-in-the-dark, inside-the-trunk latch that car manufacturers had started installing in 2002 as a safety issue, and figuratively crossed his fingers that this one hadn’t been disabled.  It hadn’t.  Kowalski very slowly – partly for stealth and partly because it was all he could manage with his aching head and stiff muscles – lifted the trunk lid far enough to check his surroundings.

 

“Shed?”  He wasn’t sure.  Some kind of enclosed but empty space with a dirt floor.  No one seemed to notice the trunk lid move so Ski eased it open a little further.  Barn, he finally settled on.  Still no sounds so he raised the lid far enough to slide his legs out, followed by the rest of him, and he crouched behind the car as he lowered the lid but didn’t latch it, still afraid of what – or who – he couldn’t yet see or hear.

 

His brain kept screaming about the inconsistencies – he wasn’t dead being the biggest one.  Whoever the bad guy was he’d not hesitated before to kill, apparently.  Ski hadn’t been blindfolded or even tied up.  The bag in the trunk hadn’t been checked for contents.  The guy hadn’t held back bashing Ski’s head – maybe he thought that he’d hit him hard enough that it wouldn’t matter not tying him up.  Ski almost smiled – the bad guy hadn’t counted on the rating’s hard head.  But it was still worrisome.

 

A noise of some sort from outside the barn caught Kowalski’s attention and sent him scurrying around the car.  He saw a large door – probably how the car had been driven inside.  There was also a smaller door and again Ski heard a sound of some sort, now identified as coming from that direction, and he hurried over to stand by the side with the hinges so if it opened he’d be behind it.  From that position the sounds could be identified as voices.  Or maybe just one voice.  Ski couldn’t hear enough to be sure.  He couldn’t make out individual words, just the impression of a conversation.

 

Something that sounded like a grunt was followed by footsteps.  Ski stiffened but they didn’t come closer to the door he was behind.  Then another door was pulled shut and the steps stopped.  Ski hesitated ever so briefly but, checking the gun to make sure the safety was off, yanked open the door and charged into the area on the other side figuring that surprise was a far better offense than stealth at this point.

 

But it was he who was shocked.  The room was mostly empty – it looked like some sort of storage area.  Pretty much the only thing inside was a wooden chair.  The surprise was finding Mr. Morton tied to the chair, both arms and legs securely duct taped.  His head was bent down as if he was unconscious.  Or dead.  A quick glance to make sure that he was truly alone and he hurried to his XO’s side.  As he felt for a pulse Morton’s head tried to lift.  Seeing the struggle Ski knelt down to his level.  From there he could see that someone had used his XO for a punching bag, and anger swelled instantly inside the rating.

 

“Easy, sir, let me get this tape off,” and he set to work releasing first arms then legs.  He decided that he’d probably done that backwards as once Morton’s arms were free Ski practically had to hold him up as he released his feet or Morton would have fallen forward.  He kept trying to talk but Ski couldn’t make out any of the words.  “Easy, sir, “ Ski told him again, and hoped Mr. Morton could hear him.  “I’ll get you out of here.”

 

Without knowing how badly his XO was injured, and not wanting to take the time to totally find out, Ski laid Mr. Morton on the floor and crept over to the other door.  There was a small window, from which Ski could see another building – most likely the house for this property – but didn’t see any other vehicles or people.  The buildings were in a clearing surrounded, from what Ski could see, by trees.  Ski muttered a few choice phrases not totally under his breath and went back to Morton.  “Okay, sir, I think it’s time we got the heck out of here, don’t you?” came out almost cheerily.  He wasn’t sure if Mr. Morton heard, or understood, but Ski didn’t give him the opportunity to reply.  He was as careful as he could be, but from the groan he still knew that he’d caused the XO pain as he lifted him and basically carried him back to the car after carefully searching his XO’s pockets.  He hadn’t expected to find the car keys but then, he hadn’t expected to find the gun, either.  He buckled Morton into the passenger seat and then went to see how much trouble he’d have opening the big door.  He needed to decide which came first – opening the door or hotwiring the car.  Both could bring bad guys running, and Ski was in all probability only going to have one shot at getting away.

 

The door proved to be the key.  It was a large door but moved outward quite easily.  He already knew that the car, for all its sportiness, purred like a kitten, soft but powerful, not making much noise at all.  Pushing the door just slightly open, he had the car hotwired in next to no time.  I’ll explain that part only if I have to, he told himself, tightened his own seatbelt, and put the car into reverse.  Easing back until the bumper was just touching the door he sent Mr. Morton a glance.  He’d thought that the XO was pretty well out of it but caught blue eyes looking his direction with an almost quizzical expression.  “Hang on,” he told his XO, took a deep breath, and gunned the car.

 

The next few seconds weren’t going to make it to Ski’s “Highlights of my life” film.  The door flew open as the car flew backward.  Ski had only a moment to see a driveway through the trees before shots started hitting the car.  He threw the car into forward gear and gunned it again as a couple shots came way too close for comfort, and headed for the driveway.  He had absolutely no idea where he was – he just knew that he had to get the heck out of here!  The unlatched trunk lid flew up and actually helped protect the pair but Ski knew that bit of extra cover wasn’t going to last forever.

 

The car had a navigation system but Ski couldn’t even take the time to turn it on.  And he wasn’t about to stop and figure it out, having no idea if he was being followed.  He concentrated on taking whatever road he came to that seemed to get him the fastest way possible away from his captors.  But suddenly Mr. Morton ever so slowly reached out a shaky hand and the screen came to life.  He managed to keep the hand there long enough to touch the ‘Where am I’ command before it fell, but that was enough to bring up the map and finally give Ski an idea of where he was – actually not that far out of Melbourne.  He didn’t take the most direct route, wanting to avoid the bad guys if they were, indeed, following.  And he sure wasn’t going back to the motel – he doubted either he or Mr. Morton would mind replacing what little was still there.  Both he and Morton had put their passports in the room safe – hopefully arrangements could be made later to retrieve them.  Right now he needed to get his XO safely back to Seaview.  What he desperately wanted was a phone since both his and Mr. Morton’s cell phones had also been confiscated, and finally spotted a pay phone in a small strip mall.  He was extremely happy to find one fairly easily – they were sort of a thing of the past with pretty much everyone these days having cell phones.  He put the top up on the convertible to give Mr. Morton more protection, latched the still flapping trunk lid, waited to make sure no one seemed to be paying him any undo attention, and headed for the phone.

 

* * * *

 

Lee was just starting to pace again and seriously considering defying Nelson’s orders to not go search for Ski and Chip when he was almost frantically summoned to the radio shack.  NIMR was relaying a message from Kowalski that he and the XO were in immediate need of extraction.  NIMR had a phone number to call Ski back.  Lee had Nelson paged as he grabbed a map.  Once Nelson, with Jones in tow, were given a sketchy briefing, they had NIMR relay to the rating to take Hwy. 192 over to Indialantic, then drive south on A1A to Melbourne Beach.  By that time Seaview could be close enough to send a zodiac.  They’d deal with the consequences of the car later.  Ski had indicated that the XO had sustained injuries although he wasn’t specific.  Actually, he wasn’t specific about anything, not wanting to waste time.  Will wasn’t thrilled about that when Nelson informed him of the update as Lee got Seaview moving.  Nelson also had Sparks notify the local LEO’s to cancel the APB – he didn’t want Ski stopped for any reason as the rating seemed in a BIG hurry to get the heck away from where he was.

 

Seaview surfacing fairly close to the Florida beach turned a few heads for sure, even though by that time it was getting dark.  Without radio contact an exact meeting place was a bit tricky.  But as the zodiac started for shore there was a flash of some sort, then darkness, then another flash, and the zodiac headed in that direction.  Turned out Ski had found a flashlight in the glove box of the car, although he’d been prepared to park somewhere where he could use the headlights if all else failed, even if it meant parking on the beach.  The XO had rallied a bit but was still in a fair amount of pain.  Ski had managed a quick evaluation as they waited and figured at least a couple of ribs were probably broken.  Once Ski had the zodiac pointed in the right direction he ran back to the car.  Easing the XO upright he draped Morton’s right arm over his shoulders, wrapped his left hand around the XO’s waist, and mostly carried him down to the beach.  They got a few stares, but Ski ignored everything except getting the two of them to safety.

 

Will had decided that the rescue party of Sharkey and Patterson would also include his senior corpsman, Frank.  Lee had invited himself but Nelson promptly uninvited him when he discovered the plot.  He had a feeling that, once ashore, Lee would take off on his own and Nelson wasn’t about to let that happen – not without more intel then they had at the moment.  Lee recognized that he’d been outsmarted and surrendered fairly graciously.  He saw Admiral Jones send a look between he and Nelson, realized that Nelson had caught it as well, and ducked his head as Nelson snorted softly.

 

Everyone was all business as the zodiac got back.  Frank started feeding Will details of what turned out to be a systematic beating and Chip was immediately hauled off to Sick Bay.  The fact that the blond didn’t even put up an argument about being laid on the stretcher and carried there upset Lee almost more than the beating itself, and he turned to Ski for answers.  The rating had judiciously avoided any mention until now of his own bash on the head.  But once he’d related everything he knew about the incident to Lee and the two admirals the rating was forced to accompany the others as they headed to check on Chip.  Entering Sick Bay they found Chip laid out on the exam table.  His eyes opened as he heard them enter but there was an immediate growl from Will.  “You say one thing about being fine and you’ll be in restraints so fast you won’t even know how it happened.”   Nelson snorted as Lee grinned bashfully since the whole “I’m fine” thing was his fault.  He saw Admiral Jones once more look confused, but that admiral remained silent.

 

“Frank, when you have a second,” Lee told the corpsman, “make sure Kowalski’s okay – he took a good enough whack to the head that he was unconscious for awhile.”

 

“How long?” Will demanded, glaring at the rating.

 

“Not sure,” Ski admitted.  “Awhile,” he added quietly.

 

“Frank, skull series,” he ordered his corpsman, and Frank lead Ski into another part of Sick Bay.

 

“Jamie,” Lee asked softly.

 

“They beat the crap out of him,” was the doctor’s succinct reply, and he sent Lee a quick glare.  But he instantly backed down.  He of all people, with the possible exception of Admiral Nelson, knew how close Lee was to Chip.  And vice versa.  The two were brothers in all ways except blood.  And far closer than a lot of actual brothers Will knew.  “The beating was brutal and systematic.  They meant to inflict pain.”

 

“He wanted to know why I was there – how much I knew,” came out softly, slowly, but in a relatively steady voice.  Will frowned but knew that nothing short of a fully unconscious Chip would stop the questions.  He knew that Chip wanted – needed – to report what had happened.  All he could do was keep it from getting out of control.  He knew that Lee and Nelson would be careful.  He wasn’t so sure about Admiral Jones so he stayed right by Chip’s side.

 

“Who?” Jones demanded.  He got instant glares from Lee and Nelson, and a growl from Will.  Chip would have smiled if he weren’t in so much pain.  He was back among his friends.

 

“I don’t know,” he told Jones honestly.  “I never saw his face.  He knew who I was, though.  Knew Seaview was close.  He kept asking where Lee was, how much did we know.  I kept asking, know about what.  Kowalski and I were just taking a few days’ leave.”  He stopped for a few seconds.  “He obviously didn’t believe me.”

 

“There was just one?” Lee wanted to know.

 

“All I ever saw or heard,” Chip told him.  “Ski went off to check on the crash scene, make sure it was the right rig, etc.”  Another pause, and Lee laid his hand on Chip’s arm.  “I waited in the room; figured that was better than both of us going.  There was a sound outside the door, like maybe someone had tripped and fell, and I went to look.  Opened the door and got a fist in my face.”  He sighed and looked at Lee.  “Dumb,” he muttered.

 

“Maybe you won’t be so quick to harass me next time?” Lee asked innocently.  Chip sent him a glare as both Will and Nelson chuckled softly.

 

“Harrumph,” Chip grumbled.  Lee grinned, and Chip sent him another glare before going back to his narrative.  “The punch sent me backwards into the room and I fell.  He was on me instantly before I could catch my breath.  Stuck a gun in my gut.  He was wearing a Halloween mask – a pig face.  Said if I made a sound I was a dead man.”  He looked at Lee.  “Figured I was, anyway,” and both he and Lee sighed heavily.

 

“Before I could do more than nod,” Chip continued, “he brought up the gun and the lights went out.”  Will’s hand went instantly to Chip’s head, feeling for any swelling.  Chip cringed when Will found it but the doctor’s fingers were gentle and he made no comment.  “When I woke up I was duct taped to a chair.  Somewhere.”

 

“Ski said when he got back to the motel he got some of the same treatment,” Lee told him.  “He woke up stuffed into the trunk of the rental.”

 

“The guy – the pig mask was back – kept demanding information.  I wasn’t sure what intel he was asking about.  He never said anything about the flash drive, or codes, or anything.  Mostly he wanted to know where you were, and why I was there instead.”  He tried to shrug but pain from the movement was very evident on his face.  “I wasn’t about to admit anything and he wasn’t happy about that.”

 

“Yeah,” Will interjected.  “Contusions over 80% of his chest but for whatever reason mostly left his face alone.”

 

“Wanted to make sure that he could still talk,” was Lee’s soft answer to that one.

 

Will frowned, but nodded and continued.  “One broken rib and two more severely bruised.  I’d say he was unhappy.”

 

Chip and Lee exchanged looks.  Will was extremely ticked – something that the devoted doctor didn’t allow to happen very often.  But when it did…  Both younger men were going to have to be careful around their CMO until he got himself back under control.

 

Nelson seemed to realize the situation as well.  “We’ll find the bastard,” he said firmly.  Will took a deep breath and sent his boss a nod.

 

“The guy finally decided that I wasn’t going to tell him what he wanted.  By that time I’m not sure I could have answered if I’d wanted to,” he admitted, with a look at Will.  “He muttered a few more threats and then left.  Next thing I know, Ski was standing next to me.”

 

“He woke up in the trunk of the rental.  Whoever this guy is, he apparently didn’t realize that car trunks nowadays are rigged so that someone can’t get accidentally locked inside.”

 

“He’s okay?”  Chip’s eyes tried to follow where he’d seen Frank take the rating.

 

Will brought his attention back.  “Knowing Kowalski’s head is even harder than you two,” he grumbled, “he’s probably going to be fine.  At least he’s functioning a whole lot better than you are at the moment.”  Both Chip and Lee sent him sheepish looks, and Nelson snorted softly.

 

“Ski heard the guy leave, found you, and got the two of you the heck out of there,” Lee finished that part of the tale.

 

“Works for me,” Chip said with an ever so soft smile.

 

“Now can we all say ‘goodnight’ and let me get back to my patients?” Will asked, with a pointed glare at Admiral Jones.  He figured that it was the only person in the room it had even a small chance of affecting.  Lee and Nelson would simply ignore him, and Chip wasn’t going to be awake much longer, with the meds Will had already lined up to administer.

 

Jones had a couple of questions for Morton and decided that this was going to be his last shot, at least until morning.  “Describe the man, Commander,” he ordered.  “Anything you remember.”  Lee sent him a look, then sent it at Nelson, but no one said anything.

 

“Medium build,” Chip started.  “Extremely fit.  Powerful.”

 

“Obviously,” Will muttered not quite under his breath.

 

“Maybe six feet, a little shorter,” Chip continued.  “Nothing distinguishing, no accent…”  He yawned, and sent a frown Will’s way.  The doctor looked somewhat smug but remained silent.  “Nothing familiar about him.  I tried…” yawn… “when he kept up about…” pause… “seemed to know me and Lee.”  His eyes were still open but they were getting more glazed by the second.

 

“Anything else?” Will looked directly at Jones.  Even that admiral, unfamiliar as he was with Seaview’s CMO, seemed to realize that the interview-slash-interrogation was over and shook his head.  Will crossed his arms and sent a look at Nelson and Lee that they both recognized only too well, and they and Jones left.  Will chuckled softly, and realized that Chip was still aware enough to understand what had happened.  Will pointed an eyebrow at him and Chip was wise enough to shut his eyes.  Will chuckled again.

 

“Now what?” Lee grumbled as he and the two admirals headed forward.

 

“Now,” Nelson told him patiently, as he could see Lee was still extremely keyed up, “we’re going to call Dewey and let him and his innumerable collection of friends deal with the backlash of leaving a shot-up rental car in a public beach parking lot.”  There was a soft snort from Jones.  “The locals can use the nav system to find where Chip and Ski were taken.  There’s no way anyone is still there but you never know; they might get lucky and find a print.”  Lee and Jones both sent him a nod.  “Then you are going to walk through the boat…”  He paused.  “I assume Lt. O’Brien is moving us back to where we were?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Lee affirmed.

 

“Then you will make sure that your boat is safe for the night, make a quick stop in Sick Bay…”

 

Lee cringed.  “Jamie will no doubt make sure that it’s quick.”

 

Nelson chuckled.  “And then you are going to get some sleep.”  His voice had a decided edge to it – not lost on his captain.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“We’ll sit down in the morning and try to figure out what our next move is.”  He glanced at Jones, who was frowning.  “Robert?”

 

Jones sighed.  “I don’t have a better plan.  Unfortunately,” he admitted.

 

* * * *

 

Once more Lee didn’t sleep well.  He’d done his usual walk-through of the boat – what the crew referred to as his ‘walkaboat’.  He would have liked to have stayed longer in Sick Bay.  Chip hated being stuck there even more – if that was possible – than Lee.  But Will was firm, and in fact Chip was already asleep, so Lee surrendered fairly gracefully.  He walked through the Conn once more and headed for his cabin.  He was sitting at his desk when, without knocking, Nelson opened the door and took two steps inside.  Lee grinned shyly.  “Twenty minutes.”  He gestured to some paperwork laying open on his desk.

 

“Harrumph,” Nelson growled, but left.

 

Lee took the hint and crashed.  He’d caught up on most of his paperwork the night before.  He hit Chip’s cabin on the way back to his own and had planned on getting his XO’s pile into more manageable shape.  Nelson’s interruption, along with the realization that Chip would need something to keep him occupied while he was healing, had him closing files and returning them to Chip’s cabin before finally laying down.  He managed – barely – to keep his own frustrations enough under control to at least stay in bed all night, even though actual sleep was elusive.

 

He was nearing Sick Bay’s door the following morning, intending to make a quick check before heading to the Wardroom for a breakfast he didn’t want but knew he needed, when Will opened the door from the inside first.  He glared at Lee, took a look back inside the room, and stepped into the corridor, pulling the door closed behind him.  He pointed back the way Lee had come, still glaring.  Lee hesitated but, considering the mood the CMO had been in the night before, decided he’d be well served not to tick Jamie off and headed toward the Wardroom, Jamie along side.

 

Once around the first corner Will took pity on him.  “Chip’s still sleeping.”  Lee sent him a raised eyebrow and Will chuckled.  “Yes, with assistance from me,” he confirmed.  “But I’ve just lowered it enough that, by the time you finish eating, he should be awake enough for something light.  You can take it to him when you’ve eaten something substantial.”  The last came out an order. 

 

Lee stiffened, but nodded with a quick grin.  “Kowalski?” he asked.

 

It was Will’s turn to grin softly.  “I was right; his head’s even harder than yours.”  Lee sent a quick glare Will’s way, and Will chuckled softly.  “He’s already been released.  Rest this morning, I check him again after lunch, and no doubt release him to light duty for a couple of days.”  Lee nodded and they finished the short trip in silence.

 

Admirals Nelson and Jones were just dishing up their breakfast when Lee and Will entered.  The doctor repeated his comments at Nelson’s inquiry, adding that he’d hopefully release Chip to his cabin that evening unless unforeseen complications appeared.

 

“I left him a desk full of paperwork,” Lee told the others with a grin.  It was one of Chip’s favorite complaints: too much paperwork.

 

“Hopefully the release from Sick Bay, along with the abundance of deskwork, will keep your eardrums intact,” Nelson told Will with a grin.

 

“Not holding my breath,” Will muttered, and turned to fill his own plate.

 

Nelson kept the conversation light as the four ate.  It wasn’t easy, with tension running as high as it was.  Lee helped as much as he could as he and Nelson discussed mostly boat’s business, and tried to eat enough of Cookie’s bacon omelet, hash brown potatoes, small cream cheese danishes, and mixed berry compote topped with greek yogurt to keep the chef from frowning any harder than he already was.  Lee’s empty plate earned a nod from Jamie just as Cookie appeared with a covered plate on a tray.  A quick peek showed two of the danishes and a small portion of omelet and hash browns.  Also on the tray was a carafe that Lee assumed was coffee – it wasn’t safe bringing a meal to Seaview’s XO that didn’t include Cookie’s strong brew – a cup, and a glass of orange juice. 

 

The chef, CMO, and Nelson all gave Lee an expectant look.  “Do the best I can,” Lee told them, picked up the tray, and started to leave when Sparks called down that there was an incoming call from Dewey for Admiral Nelson.  Lee started to put the tray down, in anticipation of taking the call with his boss, but a growl from Will stopped him.

 

“You’ve been given your orders, Commander,” Will said with a glare.

 

“Yes, sir,” came out softly, an old joke between CO and CMO that Lee would acquiesce to an order from an officer of lower rank.  He saw Jones startle, but Nelson interrupted anything else that might have been said.

 

“I’ll come brief the both of you.”  Lee nodded and resumed his exit.

 

“Harrumph,” Will muttered, mostly to himself.

 

It caused Nelson to chuckle as he and Jones both got up.  “I’m always surprised when you get away with that,” he told his CMO.

 

Will sent him a slightly sheepish grin.  “Me, too,” he admitted.

 

As they headed for Nelson’s cabin to take the call, Jones raised an eyebrow.  “I’ve heard things about Jamison.”

 

Nelson chuckled again.  “And I suspect that most of them are true.  Oh,” he sent Jones a nod, “Will chooses his battles carefully.  And they both know that it’s merely Lee bending to Will’s logic, not actually taking an outright order.  Although,” Nelson amended with a thoughtful expression, “there has been a time or two…”  He didn’t finish the thought.

 

“This boat is even weirder than I thought,” Jones said not quite totally under his breath.  It earned another chuckle from Nelson and they finished their walk to Officers’ Country in silence.

 

Dewey’s update was fairly brief.  “Nothing yet on cleaning up the picture,” he told his boss.  “My friend hasn’t given up hope; he still has a couple of tricks up his sleeve.  But…”

 

“I know that you’re doing your best,” Nelson assured him.

 

“As for the name, Simon Lasky…”  His voice trailed off.

 

“Yes?” Nelson encouraged.

 

“Couple of things turned up.  Not quite sure what to make of either.”  He hesitated, and even though Jones was looking like he wanted to reach down the phone line and shake the security chief, Nelson warned him with a look to keep quiet.  “We’ve traced half a dozen people with that name but so far nothing seems to match anything else about this inquiry.  We’re thinking it’s some kind of alias and as such we won’t be able to connect the dots without further information.”

 

“Understood,” Nelson told him.  “We greatly appreciate what you have managed.”

 

“Thank you, sir.  And about Mr. Morton’s car…”

 

“The locals not too happy about that, I’m going to assume.”

 

“Yeah,” Dewey muttered.  “NIMR’s insurance premiums will likely go even higher than they already are.”

 

“Let Angie know to warn Accounting,” Nelson referenced his PA.

 

That got a quick laugh from Dewey.  “Will do.  But there is apparently more to the story.  The local LEO’s recovered a couple of slugs that were undamaged enough to run through IBIS.***  Turns out the gun used can be matched to a couple of unsolved homicides the locals really want to talk to Ski and Mr. Morton about.”

 

“That’s not happening,” Jones growled.

 

“At least not at the moment,” Nelson added.

 

“Got it covered,” Dewey continued.  “For now, anyway,” he added.  “I gave them enough of the truth to keep them relatively happy. Told them that Mr. Morton and Kowalski were just taking some well-earned leave while things were quiet on Seaview; that they’d been minding their own business when some idiot hijacked them and took them into the boonies.  Told them to check the navigation system in the rental and maybe they’d catch the dipsticks involved – that our people managed to get away and got shot at in the process, but since they were unfamiliar with the territory they really didn’t know where they’d been taken.  They decided they didn’t want any more to do with the Florida Tourist Commission and beat a hasty retreat.  Seaview surfacing had, apparently, already been reported.  Didn’t see the need to say anything more.  Well, other than there wasn’t any use talking to either Mr. Morton or Ski, that they didn’t see who had abducted them or why it had even happened, and weren’t about to hang around looking for answers.  I did send them to the motel room and they have Mr. Morton’s and Ski’s clothes and passports.  I’m having a friend retrieve them and send them here.”

 

“Any intel on the homicides?”

 

“I was afraid to ask,” Dewey admitted.  “Didn’t want to sound like I was interested in anything except NIMR personnel.”

 

“Good man,” Nelson told him, and meant it.

 

“Got a guy checking that angle from a different direction so it doesn’t look like it’s NIMR-related.”

 

“Excellent,” Nelson told him.  Dewey reiterated that they, whoever ‘they’ were, would keep working until told differently, and Nelson thanked him and broke the connection.

 

A word came out of Jones’ mouth.  Nelson had heard it before from the other admiral but only when Jones was extremely frustrated and upset.  “Now we have shooting victims involved, along with everything else?”

 

“Just because the same gun was used doesn’t mean it’s related,” Nelson tried to be logical.  The same word came out of Jones’ mouth with even more force, and Nelson was forced to nod.  “Agreed,” he admitted.  “I’d better go update Lee and Chip.”

 

“Not without me,” Jones told him with a glare, and they both headed for Sick Bay.

 

Weighing his options, Nelson chose to enter Sick Bay through the main door as opposed to Will’s office door.  While it was okay to let Jones see the CMO ordering Lee and Chip around he wasn’t about to let the other admiral think that he, Nelson, might tread lightly around the CMO and come through Will’s office door first as if asking permission to speak to Will’s patient!  He needn’t have bothered – Will was standing next to Chip’s bunk seeming pleased about something.  Chip was sitting up, supported by several pillows, and Lee was seated in a chair next to his friend.  A small table held the tray Lee had brought from the Wardroom, and Nelson noted that the food was all gone.  Lee and Chip both sent him instant anticipatory looks.  “Some good, some weird,” he told them, knowing that Lee would have told Chip about the call.  He walked over, Jones a couple of steps behind, and explained.  Lee got a hard look when the other homicides were mentioned.  “Let Dewey handle the investigation,” Nelson ordered before Lee could say anything.  “We don’t even know if anything is related.

 

“Understood, sir,” but the brunet still didn’t look happy.  “However,” Lee continued a bit more under control, “I’ve been thinking.”

 

“Help,” came softly from the bunk. 

 

Nelson being unable to bury a soft snort stopped the glare Lee instantly sent the blond, and he sent a much more respectful expression toward his boss.  “Why all the emphasis on where I was; why Chip was on land and not me?”

 

“You’ve made your share of enemies,” Chip offered, his voice a grumble.  The other three Seaview officers understood that it was just Chip’s usual reaction to Lee’s continued ONI involvement, and nodded more because of that than his actual comment.

 

“They – whoever ‘they’ are – had me on shore.”  Lee’s voice held a bit of puzzlement. “The beach was dark, quiet, deserted…well, except for the turtles and the observers.”

 

“Maybe it was the presence of the observers that messed up their plans,” Nelson offered.

 

“Then why set up the meet on a turtle nesting beach?” Lee came back.

 

“They’re stupid?” Chip offered.

 

Lee sent him a raised eyebrow.  “You met at least one of them.  Did he seem stupid?”

 

“He left Ski untied in a trunk with a weapon.  That seem bright to you?”

 

Lee shrugged.  “Good point,” he conceded.  “And yet…”  He looked at the two admirals.  “Up until that point there seemed no hesitation to kill.  It really doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

 

“Two sets of bad guys?” Will offered.

 

“Terrific,” came in a soft growl from Chip.

 

“It’s all connected,” Admiral Jones assured everyone firmly, and then added almost to himself, “It has to be.”

 

“I agree,” Nelson added his vote.  “We simply don’t have enough answers.  Yet,” it was his turn to speak firmly.

 

“Sir…” Lee started.

 

“No.”  While Nelson’s voice was firm he sent Lee an almost smile.  “Not yet,” he added, and Lee nodded.

 

“This is intolerable!”  That phrase seemed to have become Jones’ alternative to swearing.  “We can’t just sit and do nothing.”

 

“Agreed,” Nelson told him.  He paused, and his expression started to change.  The other three Seaview officers almost held their breath – they’d seen that expression before.  “So…” he sent a particularly evil grin around the room, “when hunting sharks it’s always a smart move to chum the waters first.”

 

“Help,” came once more, ever so softly, from the bunk.

 

* * * *

 

Chief Sharkey was confused.  Well, to be honest he was a little ticked, although he was too good a COB to ever let that show.  But he was also a good COB that knew that abnormalities on his boat could easily lead to trouble, and especially when he wasn’t even sure what was causing all the abnormalities in the first place. Usually he’d just ask the Admiral – that’s if Nelson wasn’t already keeping him in the loop, and that was rare.  Sometimes Nelson would get busy and forget to keep Sharkey updated.  But Sharkey had a good working relationship with the Admiral and wasn’t afraid to simply ask questions.  Although he did wonder a time or two about the strange smile that would cross Nelson’s face when Sharkey required information.  No matter.  Sharkey needed to know what was going on to be able to properly run his crew.

 

Sharkey actually liked Cdr. Crane’s way of running the boat.  He was usually open about cruises, sharing intel easily to keep Sharkey up-to-date.  Much better than XO Morton, who could be a royal pain on occasion.  Oh, Sharkey greatly admired how the XO ran the boat, and the crew liked his firm but fair leadership.  But Sharkey didn’t always appreciate how closed-mouthed he could be about intel Sharkey thought that he should have access to.

 

But the last few days things were just plain weird.  Crane running errands for ONI – no biggy.  But bags attached to turtles, the ONI Director showing up, XO Morton and Kowalski going ashore and both coming back injured.  And nobody would tell him a dang thing!  How was he supposed to do his job if he didn’t have all the information?  The Admiral, his usual source, was never more than two feet away from Admiral Jones so Sharkey couldn’t get him alone.  Sharkey had, once Kowalski was released from Sick Bay, immediately demanded the rating tell him the whole tale of what had happened when he and Morton went ashore.  But Ski said he was under orders from the Skipper to keep quiet about what had happened, and Sharkey couldn’t exactly countermand Crane’s orders. He did think that the rating might be fibbing about those orders, and his chance to challenge the rating came this afternoon.

 

The Admiral had ordered divers out to gather water and soil samples – who knew why – and Crane was in the Missile Room merely observing as he was wont to do as Sharkey, acting as Dive Master, sent them out the hatch.  Once they were safely away Sharkey had every intention of chatting up the Skipper.  He just knew that, now that Crane appeared much more relaxed with XO Morton on the mend, he could get the Skipper to open up enough to call Kowalski’s bluff.

 

Then, just as he got confirmation that the divers were settled into their assigned collection coordinates, Crane got a decidedly serious look on his face and abruptly bolted from the Missile Room.  Sharkey was seriously thinking about smacking the nearest seaman, just on general principles to release a bit of pent up frustration, when one of the divers called in with a question and Sharkey got back to business.  But boy, was he ticked at once more being left out of the information loop!

 

* * * *

 

In the Missile Room Lee watched COB Sharkey organize and send out the dive team Admiral Nelson had requested simply because it gave him something to focus on for a few minutes other than the current chaos.  It wasn’t working, unfortunately, as his brain continued to be invaded by images of everything that had happened the last handful of days.  But at least it was activity, and better than trying to control his nerves standing around in the Conn.

 

But several thoughts hit him once the divers were into the water, triggered by something Admiral Nelson said earlier.  He pondered them until the divers settled into their positions and then headed off to bounce his thoughts off of the Admiral.

 

He found both Admirals in Nelson’s marine lab.  He was so engrossed in his postulations that he almost forgot to knock, and barely rapped before opening the door, startling both men.  “Oops,” came out softly as Jones whirled around, apparently caught looking into one of the aquariums mounted into the bulkhead, and Nelson pulled his head up from whatever he was looking at in the microscope. 

 

More used to his captain’s occasionally impetuous actions than Jones, Nelson sent the other admiral a quick grin before raising an eyebrow at Lee.  The grin stayed on his face as the thought flashed past concerning Chip’s reactions to Lee’s abrupt changing of gears every so often.  The blond had been known to – rather loudly, albeit in private – berate Lee for not totally thinking through his plans before putting them into action.  Nelson knew otherwise; Lee was extremely adept at thinking on his feet.  He had the ability to run through all of his options faster than anyone Nelson had ever met, quickly decide on his best course of action, and implement it almost instantaneously.  Nelson was sure that Chip understood that as well, although it didn’t stop the occasional complaint.

 

Lee wasn’t sure what was causing Nelson’s amusement at his intrusion but he wasn’t about to ask.  “Sorry, sirs,” he said, taking both admirals momentarily in his gaze before focusing on Nelson.  “Sir, you mentioned something about chumming the waters?”

 

Nelson sighed and leaned back in his chair.  “I just haven’t quite figured out how and where to start,” he admitted.

 

“What if that’s already been happening?” Lee asked him.

 

“Excuse me?” was Nelson’s response, totally drowned out by Jones’ shouted “What?”

 

Lee acknowledged Jones with a nod but continued talking to Nelson.  “What if everything that’s been going on is nothing more than muddying the waters; scrambling everything around until nothing makes sense?”

 

“To what end?” Nelson asked, already starting his own thought processes along this new line.

 

“Unclear,” Lee answered, and then ducked his head at the unintended pun.

 

Nelson’s smile made a brief reappearance.  “Distraction from the main objective?” he got back to business.  “But including multiple murders?”  Lee shrugged.  “That, actually, makes a bit of sense.”

 

“Unfortunately,” Jones muttered.  “But what the heck is the objective?”

 

“Haven’t a clue,” Lee admitted.  “But…”  He paused, and both admirals sent him a pointed eyebrow.  “Whoever is behind whatever is going on, it obviously involves Seaview.”  He thought a moment.  “Or me,” he added, and then shrugged again.  “Or both.”

 

“We don’t know that,” Jones told them both.  “This all started…  Well,” he revised the thought with a pause, “the focus was my office.  ONI,” he clarified.  “You and Seaview just happened to be handy.”

 

“Or,” Nelson played Devil’s Advocate, “whoever is behind this waited until we were handy.”  The other two acknowledged that with a nod.  “On the other hand,” he continued, “it’s possible we accidentally tossed a monkey wrench into the original plans by coaxing Robert into leaving DC.”

 

“Coaxing?” Jones challenged, but that’s as far as he went as they all pondered this new line of thought. 

 

Nelson was the first to break the silence.  “Robert,” he turned toward the other admiral, “if you weren’t here, what would you be doing?”  Jones merely glared at him and Nelson rephrased his question.  “Is there anything in your schedule recently that you’ve been having more issues with than usual; that maybe you’ve been, well, standing in the way of someone else getting what they want?”

 

That caused more silence from Jones, but his expression turned inward and he settled onto a stool as he pondered the question.  Neither Nelson nor Lee interrupted.

 

“There are always forty-nine different ongoing projects…” Jones said, basically to himself as his attention continued to point inward.  He stayed quiet for a bit longer and then finally looked at Nelson.  “You know Rear Admiral Harwood Garnet.”  It was statement rather than question.

 

Nelson muttered something under his breath.  “Had the ‘pleasure’ of his company at a few Pentagon meetings.”  There was no doubt that his feelings toward the man were less than amiable given his tone of voice.  “Something to do with military spending policies?”

 

Jones nodded.  “Overseas funding of special projects.  Mostly working with indigenous villagers, building schools, putting in wells.  Just upgrading, etc.”  Jones snorted.  “Wants his second star.  Isn’t likely to ever get it.”  He snorted again.  “Haven’t figured out how he got the first one.”

 

Nelson nodded.  “Wondered about that as well,” he admitted.  “What’s he got to do with ONI?”

 

“Nothing,” Jones practically growled.  “But he fancies himself an ‘intel operative.’  Says his people work closely with the locals and keeps trying to pass on stuff he’s sure is invaluable information.”  Jones frowned fiercely.  “It’s all crap that’s either totally useless to begin with or already six months out of date.”  He sent a glare between Lee and Nelson.  “You did not hear this,” he ordered with another pointed glance at Lee.

 

“No, sir,” Lee told him respectfully.

 

“About two months ago he went directly to the CNO and complained that I was purposely ignoring his valuable intel about a Taliban training camp tucked away in the Salang mountains in Afghanistan.”  Jones’ grin was so unexpected it caught both Nelson and Lee by surprise.  “CNO told him…ah, so I’ve heard…” he grinned again, “to ‘shove it up a dark place and keep his nose in his own business’.”

 

“Oops,” came softly out of Lee’s mouth.  Nelson sent him a quick grin and Jones nodded.

 

“The camp in question had not only already been dealt with, it was now staffed with Army personnel advising the locals and training them to defend themselves.”

 

Lee got thoughtful.  “Wasn’t Admiral Garnet’s name mentioned the other night when you were talking to Roger…ah…Lt. Cdr. Andreas?”

 

“I gather he didn’t take the CNO’s advice?” Nelson added.

 

“Yes,” Jones answered Lee’s question.  “And no,” he answered Nelson’s.  “The man’s good at his job, I’ll give him that.  Seems to keep monies flowing where it needs to be.  But if he can’t stay out of my face…”  He didn’t finish the thought and neither Lee nor Nelson felt any need to ask, given Jones’ tone of voice.

 

“What else?” Nelson decided to distract Jones from that particular fit of temper.  “You also mentioned something else to Andreas,” he referred back to the phone call.

 

“What?” Jones glared at him.

 

“Something about a Capt. Kells,” Lee prompted, and Jones switched the glare to Lee as Nelson grinned softly.  Leave it to Lee to remember such seemingly obscure details.  “And another name, sir.  Lowen?”

 

Jones deflated somewhat.  “Oh, that.”  He shrugged.  “A joint JAG/NCIS investigation.  Misappropriation of funds.  Cdr. Lowen swears he’s being framed.  Kells’ investigation is bringing in conflicting information, confusing things even more.”

 

“Why is ONI involved,” Nelson asked.

 

“We aren’t, officially,” Jones told him.  “But some of the missing money came from ONI accounts, so…”  He shrugged again.  “Kells is keeping us updated.”

 

“What else?” Nelson prodded carefully.  If there was interrogation to be employed, Jones was usually the one doing it!

 

Jones sent him a look, but pondered the question nonetheless.  “Half a dozen operations here and there.  Mostly there,” he added firmly.  “Nothing much else here in the states.  And nothing with any connection to Seaview.”

 

“Until this mess appeared,” Lee said softly.

 

Both admirals looked at him. “Totally accidental,” Jones assured the other two.  “Just an offhand mutter from Stark…”  But the expression on his face left room for further consideration.

 

“Skipper, please report to Sick Bay,” came over the all-boat intercom, interrupting further discussion.

 

Nelson sent Lee a grin.  “I suspect that Will’s earplugs are giving out,” he said, a smile in his voice as well.

 

Lee nodded.  “Sucker bet,” he agreed.  “Better go rescue him.”  With a nod to both admirals he turned and left.  Behind him, Nelson went back to his microscope and Jones was left with his own thoughts.

 

* * * *

 

Admiral Nelson very carefully kept his expression benign as he sat down at his usual spot for dinner, Jones next to him, Jamison next to Jones, and Lee and Chip across the table.  That Chip was still in some pain was obvious.  That Will was keeping close tabs on the blond was also obvious, although the doctor wasn’t saying much.  The two younger men were engaged in a friendly sniping match over how a drill Lee had run that afternoon in the Missile Room had gone slightly awry.  Nelson had his suspicions that Lee had somehow sabotaged the drill just to give Chip something else to think about rather than his own injuries and what had caused them.  He also suspected that Chip knew perfectly well what Lee had done – and why – but was playing along just because it also gave the crew a reprieve from all the recent tensions aboard.  Nelson had no idea what Jones was thinking, and didn’t at that point much care.  While Lee and Chip had some occasionally offbeat ways to run his boat, it worked.  And worked well!  While it wasn’t always the strictly Navy way, Seaview wasn’t a strictly Navy boat.  And there was no way Nelson was going to intentionally mess with how his two chosen senior officers conducted the boat’s business.

 

An especially strong grin had to be buried when the thought hit him about how his old friend, Jiggs Stark, tended to react to Seaview’s command team.  Poor Jiggs.  He was old Navy down to his toenails.  Lee especially drove the man crazy with his eclectic solutions to any problems he encountered.  And Jiggs’ issues with a quiet, confident, and competent Chip were, while different, still maddening for the COMSUBPAC.  A trip into the jungles of Belize**** had, Nelson knew, given Jiggs insight into both younger man’s abilities and actions.  But Nelson wasn’t holding his breath that Jiggs would ever totally get used to either of them without complaints of some sort.

 

Somewhat belatedly he realized that Admiral Jones seemed not overly sure of the pair, either.  Or, at least, how to deal with them together.  He’d had to explain to Jones, after Lee got the call from Sick Bay, his comment about Will’s earplugs and that Will no doubt was about to release Chip and wanted Lee’s help keeping the blond at least semi on light duty.  Jones had merely stared at him and Nelson went back to his research.  Chief Sharkey, when he brought Nelson the samples that the divers brought in, told him about the surprise drill Lee had sprung and what had happened.  The COB had shown curiosity about how Chip had gotten out of Sick Bay so fast but Nelson didn’t elaborate on even what little he knew.  He could read displeasure on the COB’s face that Nelson wasn’t being as open as he usually was but, with a quick glance at Admiral Jones, Sharkey just nodded and left.

 

What did hit Nelson now, as he listened to Chip and Lee natter peaceably about the drill, was Jones’ comment about running into Jiggs at the Pentagon.  He waited to ask until dinner was over and Lee and Chip had headed to the Conn for a quick check before, he knew, CO would point XO toward his cabin.  Once they left, Will headed out as well, probably toward Sick Bay, and Nelson turned to Jones.

 

“Question,” he asked, keeping his voice light.  “What, exactly, led to Jiggs telling you Seaview was here?”

 

Jones frowned, but pondered the question for a moment before answering.  “I was supposed to have had a meeting with Capt. Kells about which accounts had been breached.”

 

“Significant amounts?”

 

Jones glared.  “In one case especially.”  He started to take a drink from his coffee mug, discovered that it was empty, and the glare increased in volume.  “We were able to cover it with contingency funds, but…”  He got up and headed for the coffee urn.  Nelson glanced at his own mug, also empty, and joined Jones.  Once re-supplied, Jones took a long swallow and continued.  “Bumped into Jiggs on the way back to my office, muttering not totally under his breath.”

 

Nelson nodded.  “He tends to like meetings there about as much as I do.”  His tone of voice left no doubt as to his meaning, and Jones sent him back a quick nod.  His own mug halfway to his mouth, Nelson suddenly stopped and stared at Jones.  “You said ‘supposed’ to have a meeting.  You didn’t actually have one?”

 

Jones muttered something into his mug, drained it, and reached once more to fill it.  “Got there and Kells wasn’t in his office.  His aide said that he’d gone home early; his daughter had some sort of recital that evening and since he didn’t have anything on his calendar for the rest of the day…”  Jones sent Nelson a fierce look.

 

“No mention of a meeting with you?”  Jones shook his head.  “His aide didn’t know about any meeting?”

 

“No,” was growled by the other admiral.

 

“Oops,” Nelson said softly, unintentionally imitating his captain’s earlier comment.  “So, why did you think there was a meeting?”

 

Jones sent him a nasty look.  “Because it was on my calendar,” he muttered.  “I thought Andreas wrote it.  He thought I did.”  Jones finally shook his head.  “There it was, plain as day,” he admitted almost sadly.  “I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t connected to a few other instances…”  His voice trailed off.

 

“So, you ran into Jiggs on the way back to your office…” Nelson prompted softly.  He wanted to ask Jones to explain the phrase ‘a few other things’ but now didn’t seem the right time.

 

Jones took a deep breath and nodded, before sending Nelson a small quirky smirk.  “He was muttering something about a conspiracy to stop his planned war games, that first you turned him down to go count fish off the coast of Florida…”  Nelson chuckled softly.  “And he’d just had someone else back out.”

 

“Did he say who?”  Nelson wasn’t sure why he asked.  But at this point any small piece of intel had the potential of leading to more.

 

Jones shrugged.  “Not that I remember.  I was already ticked; got back to my office to discover the message from Walsh and all I could think about was, what a coincidence that I could get Crane to make the meet.  Now…”  Once more his voice trailed off.

 

“We’ll figure it out,” Nelson told him with confidence.

 

“How?”  Jones’ voice was once more almost nasty.

 

Nelson half-toasted him with his coffee mug.  “One never knows,” he admitted.  “But something will eventually lead to a break.  Count on it.”

 

“Harrumph,” Jones grumbled.

 

* * * *

 

Lee had his hands full once Chip was released from Doc’s clutches, as the blond phrased it.  Lee knew that Chip was still suffering but the blond hated Sick Bay almost as much as Lee.  Keeping him from doing what he felt he needed to do, however, was an entirely different proposition.  Having been off-boat Chip decided that he needed to be in the Conn, back to his full schedule and catching up.  Lee tried getting him to his cabin where he could relax and still do his reports and other paperwork.  Chip would have none of it.  They finally agreed to Chip sitting in the Nose instead of standing at the chart table.  But Lee wasn’t comfortable leaving Lt. James to deal with the blond should Chip decide that he needed to check on something personally, so stayed fairly close.  The drill had proved useful only up to a point.  While Chip had momentarily relaxed mentally, his body was fighting enough pain that muscles remained stiff and strained.  After dinner Chip finally agreed to head for his cabin.  He and Lee both knew that Jamie would check on him before bedtime and no doubt require him to take more meds than Chip would want to, to assure a good night’s rest.  And before he left Chip for the night, Lee got him to admit that a night of drugged nonexistence probably wouldn’t be a bad thing.  “But that’s it!” Chip told him defiantly.  “Tomorrow it’s back to normal.”  He cringed slightly as he sat down on his bunk to start changing.  “Sort of,” he admitted as Lee pointed an eyebrow at him.

 

“You can fight that one out with Jamie,” Lee told him with a snicker.

 

“Gee, thanks,” Chip sniped back, and Lee headed for his own bunk.

 

He wasn’t at all surprised that, exiting his cabin the next morning, Chip was just leaving his as well.  Lee raised an eyebrow, Chip sent him a glare, and they both chuckled and headed for a quick check in the Conn before getting breakfast.  Lee noted that Chip didn’t skip down the spiral staircase, as he was wont to do more often than not.  But he was moving a bit more freely than the day before so that relaxed Lee a bit as well.

 

They were just sitting down to eat when Jamie walked in, followed by Admirals Nelson and Jones.  Lee relaxed even more when the doctor made no immediate effort to assess the blond.  He seriously doubted that Chip was totally off of Jamie’s radar.  But since he was apparently willing to back off a bit, Lee could take another deep breath and prepare for what he assumed would be a quiet day.

 

His thoughts for a day of peace and quiet lasted only until the five men were almost done eating.  Sparks relayed that Dewey Caudill was calling with an update.  Admirals, Lee, and Chip quickly downed their last bites of food, refilled coffee mugs, and headed for Nelson’s office.  Lee did see Chip send Jamie a quick sneer as the blond used the excuse to slip away before the doctor had a chance to order Chip to report to Sick Bay for a check-up before actually reporting for duty.  Jamie merely glanced at Lee, Lee nodded, and Chip muttered something softly to himself as the four men exited the Officers’ Wardroom.

 

“What’s up, Dewey,” Nelson asked once the call had been forwarded to his cabin and the speakerphone engaged.

 

“Couple things, sir,” Dewey started.  “Nothing earth shattering but wanted to keep you updated.”

 

“Any added intel is better than what we have now,” Nelson assured him.

 

“Right.  Well, that sixth picture is pretty much a bust.  My buddy did manage to clear it up a bit, but…”

 

“We knew that was a long shot,” Chip told the other three in the room.

 

But it was obviously picked up by the phone.  “Hey, Mr. Morton.  Good to hear your voice.”  Dewey’s voice expressed the pleasure that his words had.  Chip ducked his head and Nelson sent him a quick smile.  “I’ll forward a copy of the best we could come up with,” Dewey continued his report.  “Maybe you’ll see something we missed.”

 

“Maybe,” Nelson told him, but there wasn’t much conviction in his tone.

 

“And something else.  That name – Simon Lasky?”  Dewey paused long enough that Nelson gave him a prompt.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Just…it’s weird.  Told you we’d found several but nothing seemed to fit?”

 

“Yes.”  Lee saw Nelson frown, and sent Chip a look.  Chip had obviously caught it as well.  Nelson wasn’t one who appreciated long explanations!  While the two younger men could tell that he was trying to be patient, neither was holding their breath that it would last much longer if Dewey didn’t quickly get to the point.

 

“Got a friend of a friend to check into bank video to see if we could catch a break; see who was accessing the account.”

 

“We already tried that,” Jones muttered.  “Never found anything.”

 

“Ah…”  Dewey seemed unsure how to proceed.

 

“Held your tongue just at the right angle, said the magic word, and found something that got missed the first time?”  Lee put as much humor in his voice as he could, to hopefully dampen what had all the earmarks of lighting Admiral Jones’ notoriously short fuse.  The only person Lee knew with a shorter one was Admiral Nelson!

 

“Sorta,” Dewey chuckled back.  “It’s not the greatest picture.  The guy seemed to know where the cameras were.  If we even got the right guy.  And we think that the guy’s wearing a disguise – he accidentally bumped into another customer and his beard wiggled.  I’ll send that along as well.  But that’s some of the weird part.  When you hold the two photos side by side, well, from body type and build, they could be the same guy.”  Jones uttered a particularly vulgar phrase.  “Or maybe, not so weird?” Dewey added almost softly.

 

“Decidedly interesting, for sure,” Nelson told him.  “Good work,” he added, and meant it.

 

“Only if it leads to figuring this mess out.”  Dewey wasn’t one to take credit for half-finished assignments.  “From what we can see, the guy’s not built strong enough to have taken out both Mr. Morton and Kowalski,” he added.  “Although…”

 

“Gotta watch out for the wiry type,” Lee told him.  There was a soft snort from Chip – they’d had their share of run-ins aboard Seaview with innocent-enough-looking people turning out to be monsters.

 

“Yes, sir,” Dewey agreed.  “Still got a few feelers out here and there.  Plus, the Melbourne police are still sending inquiries.”  He chuckled softly.  “I’m keeping them occupied.”

 

“I gather they haven’t passed on anything useful concerning Chip’s little adventure,” Lee asked him.

 

“A couple tidbits.  They found the old farm where Mr. Morton and Kowalski were held.  Nothing found to identify the kidnapper, unfortunately.”

 

“Wasn’t expecting that, actually,” Chip told him.

 

“Same here,” Dewey agreed.  “They did come up with an owner.  Well, sort of.  Nobody’s lived there for years but it’s still owned by a family named Harwood.  Some lawyer pays the taxes every year.  Apparently there’s some sort of trust fund.  The lawyer isn’t being forthcoming with information about any family left, and the police don’t seem too interested in forcing the issue since they couldn’t find any evidence that it wasn’t what it seems to be – an old abandoned homestead.”

 

“Makes sense,” Nelson agreed.

 

“Did manage to background those two homicides that used the same gun as the one fired at Mr. Morton.  Couple of muggings gone south, from what my friend’s been able to find.  No immediate connection to this case.  Or each other.  At least so far.  One was a local banker named…” the four men could hear papers shuffled, “Ralph Whiting.  Known to carry a fair amount of cash on him and not be overly discreet about it.  The other guy’s name was Les Weisner…”  He stopped because a loud string of epithets erupted out of Admiral Jones’ mouth.

 

“Robert?” Nelson inquired once the eruption stopped.

 

Jones looked fit to slaughter anyone within twenty yards, but finally took a deep breath and answered.  “Those are the two guys…” he gave himself a shake.  “I told you Walsh was already down here on an undercover assignment.”  He glanced around and got nods from the other three in the room.  Dewey remained silent.  “Whiting was suspected of laundering money through his bank for a drug lord out of Miami named Velasquez…  Damn!” came out not quite as loud as the first shouts.  “Why didn’t I put that together?”  He looked at Nelson.  “Velasquez had an account at the same Cayman bank where the money’s coming from into the Lasky account.”

 

“And Weisner,” Nelson asked.

 

“Velasquez’ enforcer,” Jones spit out.

 

“But why would ONI be involved in that?” Lee asked softly.

 

Jones glared at him nonetheless, and seemed to ponder whether or not to answer.  But he finally gave himself a small shake.  “Cdr. Lowen, the guy we think is being framed over the missing funds, is married to Whiting’s sister.”  There were muttered comments about that revelation from all of the others, including Dewey.

 

“But sir,” Lee once more addressed Jones, “why didn’t you already know that they were dead?”

 

A knock on the door interrupted whatever Jones was about to say.  Nelson called “Enter,” and Lt. James walked in, handed two pictures to Nelson, and immediately left.  Happily the door was once more closed before Nelson handed the pictures to Jones because that admiral’s reaction was even more explosive than the one moments before.  “Because that’s Walsh!

 

* * * *

 

Admiral Nelson was the first one to get his shock at the statement under control.  “Robert,” he demanded, “how can you be sure?  The man has been reported dead.”

 

“Supposedly,” Jones threw back at him.  “Right car.  Body size a reasonable match.  But too soon for DNA – assuming that’s even possible, as badly as the body was supposed to have been burned.  They couldn’t even do a dental match, there was so little left.”  He picked up the picture that Kowalski had snapped.  “I knew when I first saw this, it looked familiar.  But I couldn’t put my finger on why.  Now, with it lightened a bit, and next to the picture from the bank…”  Another swear snuck out – this time more softly.  “It’s Walsh, I’m sure.”  Another growl escaped, the words too low to be heard clearly.  “I’ve been such an idiot!”

 

“Nobody likes to believe that they’ve been betrayed,” came softly from Lee.  Nelson grimaced and sent him a quick nod.  Chip sat stone-faced, but gently backhanded Lee’s leg.  The silence lasted until there was a tentative “Sir,” from the phone speaker.

 

“Dewey,” Nelson blew out a heavy breath, “give us some time to sort this out.  I’ll get back to you if we need something else.  In the meantime just try to keep the Melbourne police placated; that we have no further interest in any of their business.”

 

“Got it covered, sir,” and both disconnected.  Again there was silence in the room.

 

“Can you start at the beginning, Robert?” Nelson asked.

 

“I’m not even sure where that is,” Jones admitted.  He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and re-opened them.  The others remained silent.  “Couple months ago…  Gad,” he muttered, “this is insidious.  The planning…”  Once more he went silent.

 

Nelson sent his two officers a quick look before once more addressing the other admiral.  “Robert, you apparently have more pieces to the puzzle than you’ve shared so far.”

 

“But…”

 

“I understand,” Nelson told him softly.  Lee and Chip shared a quick look.  It wasn’t often Nelson used that tone of voice.  There were a great many people all over the world who would swear that Nelson couldn’t sound that caring and concerned; that all he could do was bluster and demand.  The two younger men knew better.  Nelson might choose his friends carefully but, once chosen, he knew how to be a friend as well as have them.

 

Jones still took a bit, and this time no one interrupted.  “That jack hole Garnet…”  He stopped and looked at Nelson.  “I’ve gotten so I just automatically ignore everything he says,” came out with a sneer.  Nelson sent him a quick grin and a nod.  “But this time Walsh happened to be in my office.  He’d just finished up an assignment; turning in his final report.  Garnet barged in.  Andreas had stepped out for a moment…”

 

Nelson chuckled softly.  “He thinks one star entitles him to do and say anything he wants.” 

 

There was a growled ‘something’ from Jones in apparent agreement.  “He didn’t give Walsh a second look, just started spouting rubbish about Cdr. Lowen having married into a drug lord’s family, taking bribes so that drugs could be smuggled in under military attaché pouches, and who knew what else was being smuggled in and possibly out…”  Jones sputtered a few words not often heard aboard Seaview.  “Jack hole!” he ended the string and took another deep breath.  “Don’t remember how I got rid of him.”  He sent a glare at Nelson as that admiral smiled softly.  “Once he left Walsh, who’d sat quietly through the whole thing, asked if I wanted him to at least give the information a quick check since he already knew that I didn’t have anything immediately lined up for him.”

 

“Sir,” Lee asked, “who brought the five rich kids to your attention?” 

 

The glare transferred to Lee but there was little doubt that Jones’ thoughts were mostly turned inward.  “Garnet?” he finally said, almost like he was questioning himself.  “Yes, I’m almost sure.  It came through channels, by way of NCIS.  But I think I heard that Garnet was the source.”

 

“So Walsh and Admiral Garnet were working together at that point,” Lee made the leap.  The other three stared at him.

 

“What makes you say that, Lee,” Nelson spoke the question for the others.

 

“It’s what makes sense,” Lee told him.  “Sort of,” he amended, and ducked his head slightly.  “Admiral Garnet wanted Admiral Jones focused on the five rich kids.  I’m not sure how but he knew that they would eventually head for Florida.  Walsh arranged to already be there so he’d be the obvious choice to call in when the time came.  It gave Walsh proximity to Whiting and Weisner, once Garnet brought in the added diversion.  It was all set in place to get Admiral Jones overwhelmed with what appeared to be separate bits of unexplained messes.”

 

“Why drag us into whatever is behind all this?” Chip spoke up

 

Lee shrugged, but Jones nodded.  “Garnet despises you,” he told Nelson.  “Hates that you do as you jolly well please, flaunting authority…”  His voice trailed off as Nelson leaned back in his chair and all but smirked.

 

“But Walsh is the mastermind,” Lee said before Jones could utter out loud what was all too clearly written on his face.  Just on general principles, of course.  Lee knew that Admiral Jones respected Nelson as he did few others, and envied him the choices he’d been able to make with his life and career.

 

“What makes you say that?” Chip asked.

 

But Nelson nodded and answered.  “Admiral Garnet isn’t smart enough to have organized all this by himself.”  Jones nodded his agreement.  “Garnet could have easily discovered Seaview’s planned visit to the area.  We didn’t keep it a secret.”  He smiled.  “And I’m sure Jiggs wouldn’t have hesitated spouting his displeasure once I messed up his plans.”

 

“Somehow Walsh and Garnet meet – start to discuss…what?  The Admiral’s dissatisfaction with his lot in life?”  Lee shrugged.  “What’s Walsh’s grudge with you, sir,” he asked Jones.

 

“Nothing I know of,” Jones told him firmly.  “He’s always been a good, solid, agent.”

 

“Why Robert?” Nelson asked Lee

 

“Because everything focuses right back on ONI.”

 

“He’s right,” Jones told Nelson.  “All the different pieces were beginning to make me distrust everyone and everything.  But I have no idea what could have sent Walsh off the deep end.”

 

A very determined expression crossed Lee’s face and stiffened his posture.  “I’ll be sure to ask him once I track him down,” came out with a tone that had Chip stiffen as well.

 

“In due time,” Nelson told him, with warning in his tone.

 

“Yes, sir,” Lee acquiesced, but his expression stayed firm

 

“So,” Nelson continued, one eye on Lee and the other on Jones, “Walsh heads for Florida to see if he can pick up intel on Whiting and Weisner…”

 

Jones nodded.  “I don’t hear much from him.  That’s normal.  He only checks in if he has something to report.”

 

“In the meantime you’re kept busy with trying to figure out what the rich kids are up to.”

 

“Apparently nothing,” Jones muttered.

 

Nelson nodded.  “But a distraction, nonetheless.”  It was Jones’ turn to nod.  “ONI funds start to go missing, and Cdr. Lowen’s bank accounts are discovered to be more healthy than they should be.”  Another nod from Jones.  “Capt. Kells, et al, is on that trail and keeping you in the loop…”

 

“And I buy a jumbo-sized bottle of antacids.” Jones mumbled.

 

“Then Walsh asks for the meet on the beach,” Lee took up the story.  “Seemingly tied to the five.  But we know now that it was nothing more than another diversion.”

 

“He was a damned good agent!”

 

“Something else I’ll be sure to ask Walsh about,” Lee assured him, and got a firm nod back.

 

“Why Walsh?” Chip wanted to know.

 

“Irregular check-in schedule,” Lee told him.  “He could come and go as he pleased, do whatever he wanted without the threat of being discovered.”  It was Chip’s turn to nod.  “Something had to have happened to mess up whatever Walsh had planned for that meet on the beach.”

 

“Thankfully,” Chip breathed softly, and got nods from both admirals.  “But the message on the turtle?”  His voice held total disbelief.

 

Lee shrugged.  “Have to admit, that was a little strange.”

 

“But no harm if it didn’t work,” Nelson added.  “I’m sure that he already had a contingency plan, as well as he’s organized everything else.  But we threw monkey wrenches into the mix.”  When the other three sent him looks he continued.  “Chip went instead of Lee, and refused to admit that we’d found the turtle and her messages.”

 

“And whatever he’d planned for Admiral Jones,” Lee added, “assuming that he did have something planned…”

 

“I think we can agree on that assumption,” Nelson told him.

 

“We messed it up by having Admiral Jones come here.”

 

“So, he started ditching loose ends and got rid of the rich kids.”  All four shuddered softly.

 

“He’d already offed Whiting and Weisner,” Jones added.  “Didn’t pass the deaths on, of course, and knew that because he made them look like simple muggings the news was unlikely to get back to me any time soon.”

 

“Or he got lucky,” Lee told him.  “Because of Capt. Kells’ investigation of Cdr. Lowen, we can assume that the death of Lowen’s brother-in-law would have eventually come up.  Although,” he added, “since it was made to look like a mugging…”  More nods.

 

“Admiral Garnet is the obvious choice for who raided the Pentagon accounts,” Lee spoke mostly to himself.

 

“Not without help,” Jones muttered.  “He’s too stupid.”  The others sent him quick grins.

 

“And you’re sure Cdr. Lowen is being framed; that he’s not actually involved?”

 

“At this point I don’t know what I’m sure of,” Jones admitted.

 

“So, we leave that for you to solve,” Nelson said.

 

“Walsh thinks that we think he’s dead,” Lee continued.  “We need to find a way to draw him out.”  He looked at Jones.  “Can I assume that the Lasky account is being monitored well enough that he’d have difficulties getting to it?  The last thing we need is him disappearing for real, especially with enough money to make himself totally invisible.”

 

“Kells has that covered,” Jones confirmed.  “But I should send him a message to double his surveillance.”  Nelson reached for the intercom and had Sparks make a secured connection.  Jones wasn’t specific with Kells, merely confirmed that the account hadn’t been touched.  He did indicate that the account could be in play in the near future, and Kells told him that bank officials would notify him immediately if there were any attempts made to access it in any way.  Jones did warn Kells that he might have found a break in the case but to keep that totally to himself.  Kells didn’t question, and promised to redouble his efforts to sort the whole mess out.  “Good man,” Jones said mostly to himself once he’d hung up.

 

“So, we’re back to Walsh,” Lee spoke the obvious.

 

“Too bad we can’t send him a turtle,” Chip muttered.

 

“Don’t pick on the wildlife,” Nelson told him with a faux frown to indicate that he understood Chip’s small joke.  “He’d kill her just for fun.”

 

“I’d rather not let him make the next move,” Lee told the others.

 

“Agreed,” Nelson nodded.  “But we’ll need to be just as devious as he’s proven to be.”  He saw Chip cringe at the expression that came over Lee’s face.

 

* * * *

 

Chip knew that Lee was under orders, mostly from their years of friendship and not necessarily from the CMO, to keep an eye on Chip while he was still recuperating.  Jamie, he knew, would prefer Chip rest in his cabin for a few more days.  Well, that ain’t happening, Chip told himself, even if Seaview was merely hanging out in the same general area.  That being the given, however, Chip spent the rest of the morning keeping an eye on Lee.  The brunet was staying surprisingly under control considering the revelations after breakfast.  But Chip saw the occasional clenched fist and stiff shoulders before Lee would apparently notice, give himself a shake, and go back to meandering around the Conn or sitting in the Nose supposedly working on reports.

 

Food not being a major part of Lee’s day when he was under any kind of stress, Chip expected to have problems pointing his CO toward the Wardroom for lunch.  Apparently Admiral Nelson had the same thought because he wandered down the spiral stairs a few minutes before 1200 hours, Admiral Jones as usual in tow.  Lee took one look at the expression Nelson sent him, glanced at Chip and caught the smirk the blond quickly buried, and surrendered gracefully.  Chatter was of boat’s business on the short walk, but once everyone was seated Nelson brought the conversation to what was foremost on all of their minds.

 

“Robert and I have been discussing the best way to lure out the sharks,” he started, referring back to his comments about ‘chumming the waters’.

 

Lee asked the expected.  “And did you come up with the right bait?”

 

Nelson sent him a quick grin.  “Several possibilities.  We were thinking you might also have given it some thought.”

 

Lee ducked his head, and then elbowed his XO lightly at the blond’s soft snort.  “I was thinking we target the weakest link – Admiral Garnet.”

 

It was Jones who snorted this time, but Nelson who answered.  “Exactly how we figured it,” he confirmed.  “He’s going to know how to contact Walsh.  There’s not enough evidence to charge Garnet with anything but if we leak the right intel I’m sure he’ll pass it along.  We merely have to bait the hook correctly.”

 

“With me,” Lee said, and prepared himself for the reaction that crack would no doubt bring.  He wasn’t disappointed.

 

“Why you?” Chip demanded, ‘friend’ behind the question and not ‘subordinate officer’.

 

But once more Nelson spoke next.  “Whoever grabbed you, Chip, and I think that we can be fairly sure that it was Walsh, wanted Lee.  We’re all extremely grateful that he chose not to kill you and Kowalski since he seems so willing to with anyone else who he considers no longer useful…”

 

“It could just be,” Lee interrupted, “that they escaped before he had a chance to set something up.  An ‘accident’ of some sort.”

 

Nelson nodded.  “That was also mentioned,” and he nodded toward Jones.

 

“I don’t remember anything specific,” Jones took over, “but from the way he interrogated Morton, plus the whole business of involving Seaview, I think that we can assume Walsh carries some sort of grudge.  Or Garnet’s muttered so much about Harriman that he and Seaview have become part of the target.  Everyone knows that to attack one you need only attack the other.”  That got grim nods of acknowledgement from the others.  Doc chose that moment to walk in.  The distraction gave everyone a bit to collect his thoughts.

 

“So,” Lee said once Jamie was seated, “any suggestions on what sort of line we feed Admiral Garnet?  It has to be something that won’t sound like it’s coming from left field, given that both you,” he nodded to Nelson, “and Admiral Jones don’t go out of your way on a regular basis to talk to him.”  That drew another snort from Jones and a chuckle from Nelson.

 

“Very true,” Nelson agreed.  “So, I’m thinking we enlist Jiggs – assuming that he’s still in DC.”

 

“He hates Garnet even more than we do,” Jones objected.

 

“Which is precisely why he’ll do it.  Or, barring him personally, know someone who wouldn’t mind seeing Garnet ousted.”  Jones snorted an affirmative to that.  Nelson seemed to take notice of just how little Lee had actually eaten so far.  “Suppose you finish your lunch, and then we’ll see if we can’t find just the right hook to snag our sharks.”  Chip didn’t get a snicker buried fast enough to avoid another elbow, albeit gently, to his already sore ribs.  But Lee took the hint and did, actually, eat a fairly normal amount of food.

 

Once the meal was over – and after a quick chuckle over Will’s maneuvering to get a reluctant Chip to report to Sick Bay for a quick check before returning to the Conn – Nelson and Jones returned to the former’s cabin to do what they’d been doing most of the morning, trying to figure out what message to get to Admiral Garnet that had the best chance of snagging Walsh.  Nelson so far had vetoed all of Jones’ suggestions.  Not that they were all bad, actually.  But Jones had a slightly less…paternal…attitude toward Lee, his agent, than Nelson had toward Lee, his captain.  Jones didn’t necessarily go out of his way to make Lee a sitting duck.  But Nelson wanted a bit more control over whatever they ended up with than Jones, who seemed willing to merely turn Lee loose and assume that he would manage just fine on his own.

 

They had made one discovery – Admiral Jiggs Stark had left DC so he wouldn’t be available for decoy duties.  That left their best approach having Lt. Cdr. Andreas, covering the ONI office in Jones’ absence, pass along ‘something’.  They just so far hadn’t settled on what.  To take a break they wandered down to the Missile Room about the time Nelson figured that the divers he’d ordered out to collect samples would be returning, and found Lee there as well.  Nelson hadn’t realized that Lee had assigned himself to the dive although it was a perfectly ‘Lee’ thing to do.  Who Nelson didn’t expect to find there, casually leaning against a bulkhead out of the way, was Will.  Nelson pointed an eyebrow his direction.

 

The doctor chuckled softly as Lee frowned, sitting down to start stripping off his wetsuit.  “Chip was tired of the Skipper’s hovering so he convinced me to toss him out with the other divers this afternoon.”

 

“I was not hovering,” Lee mumbled just loud enough to be heard.  It caused both Nelson and Will to send him a grin.

 

“Admiral Jones,” Lee started, to change the subject, “does Admiral Garnet know that you’re on Seaview?  Or has Roger, ah, Lt. Cdr. Andreas, just told everyone that you’re out of town?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Jones admitted.  “But it wouldn’t have been that hard to find out considering I flew out from Norfolk.”

 

“What do you have in mind, Lee?” Nelson asked.

 

Lee shook his head.  “Not totally sure, sir.  But a couple of scenarios came to mind while I was out on the dive.”

 

“Nothing like a good dive to clear the brain cells,” Nelson said, mostly to Jones.  That Admiral frowned as Nelson’s grin spread.

 

“Yes, sir,” Lee agreed, and also smiled softly as he started getting dressed.  “At this point we have no idea where Walsh is.  Since he thinks that everyone assumes he’s dead there’s no reason to think that he’s still in Florida.”  Both Nelson and Jones nodded.  “But…well…”  He paused, and sent Nelson the little through-the-lashes look that he had a tendency to do.  “Dewey said that the old farm was owned by a family named Harwood.  So…” he sent the look to Admiral Jones, “Harwood Garnet?” he asked.  “Could Harwood be a family name the admiral got stuck with?”  His gaze went back to Nelson.  “It would explain a bit of it, at least.”

 

Jones sputtered a few things too low to be understood.  And given the expression on his face, no one was eager to ask him to repeat it.  “The place was searched,” finally came out in a growl.

 

“But who knows how thoroughly,” Lee told him.  “It’s an old homestead.  There could be outbuildings, cellars...  Who knows how good a job the locals did.”

 

“So you propose…?”  Nelson’s voice was firm.  He figured that he knew exactly what Lee was thinking.

 

“I make sure,” Lee told him simply.

 

“Not by yourself,” Nelson ordered.

 

“The more people that go, the more chance we tip our hand.”

 

“Harrumph,” Nelson muttered.  “We’ll discuss this further,” he added, with a look of his own that his crew and employees were very familiar with.

 

“Yes, sir,” Lee agreed, although somewhat reluctantly to be sure.

 

“I’m a little surprised that he actually came back from the dive,” came from Will’s direction.

 

Lee’s immediate frown went just as immediately sheepish.  “It’s too long a swim from here to the coast,” he admitted.  Nelson’s snort drowned out the doctor’s.  Admiral Jones just shook his head as Chief Sharkey and the rest of the crew in the room had to bury snickers and grins.

 

Nelson glanced at his watch.  “Suppose you go have Chip head us a little closer in and we’ll discuss this over dinner.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  Lee’s voice was more his normal command tone and he headed for the Conn.

 

* * * *

 

“Transport once you get ashore?” Nelson asked.  The two admirals, plus Lee, Chip, and Will, were in their usual spots in the Wardroom.  Pretty much the only talk revolved around Lee’s proposed trip to do a thorough search of the old homestead.  A call to Dewey confirmed the actual location since neither Chip nor Kowalski could be sure where it was.  Chip and Lee had merely given a quick smile when Jones had asked how they knew the Security Chief would have that intel.  Jones had then turned to Nelson but that admiral hadn’t answered, just smiled into his coffee mug.

 

“I’m thinking FS1 drops me closer to Daytona Beach tonight.  I can hang out until a more respectable hour and easily rent a car.”  He sent Nelson a quick, almost shy, look.  “I think we’ve worn out our welcome in the Melbourne area.”

 

“No joke,” Chip muttered softly.

 

“I don’t have to be in a hurry since I don’t want to start my search until after dark.  I can drive down, spend the rest of the day scoping out the surrounding area, find a likely place to stash the car, and have all night to reconnoiter the place.”

 

“Have you decided who you’re taking with you?” Nelson asked.  The look he sent his young captain left no doubt that Lee would not be allowed to go alone.

 

“Chief Hauck, sir,” Lee answered immediately.  “I’ve already spoken to him.”

 

Nelson nodded.  He wasn’t surprised that Lee had chosen Seaview’s Master-At-Arms.  He knew that normally Lee would like having Senior Rating Kowalski at his side in any and all altercations.  It was why Kowalski had been assigned to go with Chip.  But Nelson also knew that the seaman, while back on full duty, was still suffering the occasional headache from that trip.  Not that he wouldn’t have instantly agreed to go should he have been asked.  But Nelson knew that Lee wouldn’t ask – that Kowalski had done his part for this mission.  Nelson strongly approved of Lee’s alternative and said so.  “An excellent choice.”

 

“The Chief is strong enough to stand up to any idiot ideas Lee might come up with,” was muttered into Chip’s coffee mug, but still loud enough that it was meant to be heard.  Lee threatened his insolent XO with an elbow, but Nelson’s chuckle and Will’s nod stopped the movement.

 

“Just the two of you?” Nelson asked.  “If you do run into trouble…”

 

“Like I said earlier,” Lee started carefully, not wanting to tick Nelson off, “the more people, the more chance of being discovered.  So far Walsh has been apparently acting alone.  No reason, now that he thinks he’s convinced everyone else that he’s dead, to bring in reinforcements.”

 

“Harrumph,” was Nelson’s turn to mutter.  “Radios, cell phones, and heavily armed,” he ordered.

 

“Already being organized by Chief Hauck,” Lee confirmed.

 

“I had a talk with him after Lee did,” Chip told the others.  His glare at Lee dared the brunet to argue with him.  Lee wisely did nothing more than reach for his coffee mug.

 

* * * *

 

The first part of the trip went off without a hitch.  In the dead of night Lee and Chief Hauck were dropped off by FS1 close enough to shore to make the easy swim.  They changed into civvies they’d packed in their waterproof duffle bags, packed the swimsuits they’d used – the water was warm enough that they’d not needed wetsuits, and the swim short enough that no scuba equipment was necessary – and made the easy walk from the shoreline into Daytona Beach proper.  They found a small diner open early, ate a leisurely breakfast and, with directions from the waitress, walked to where they could rent a car.  Their duffle bags identified them as travelers and raised no red flags to the rental agent, and their military ID’s were easily accepted as well.

 

Lee had been fairly sure that, when asked, Dewey Caudill would know exactly where the old homestead was located, although he carefully didn’t ask how the man knew.  Sometimes it was better to just let staff do their jobs and stay out of the way!  He had passed on the thought he’d had about the connection to Admiral Garnet and Dewey promised to have that checked out – quietly, of course.  Once on their way south, coordinates programmed into the car’s GPS, Lee and Chief Hauck kibitzed about what, if anything – or rather who – they might encounter.  Lee was extremely comfortable having his MAA at his side.  Despite Chip’s warning Lee knew that the man would follow instantly any order that Lee chose to give.  Although, because of Chip’s warning, Lee would be careful about any such orders that might not be part of the original plan.  No one had been specific about what would happen if tonight’s mission was a bust.  Lee knew that Admiral Nelson would expect the two men back aboard Seaview the following night.

 

Lee wasn’t so sure about that.  He was well aware that Nelson letting him go ashore in the first place had been a bit of a leap of faith for his boss that Lee would actually ‘follow the plan’.  And he knew that Nelson was perfectly aware that at any moment, if presented with a change in the known facts Lee could, and no doubt would, alter his course of action.  It was another reason everyone was comfortable with having Chief Hauck go as well – the man was a genius at thinking on his feet.

 

The drive south went smoothly.  Lee had chosen an ordinary-looking sedan, dark blue to more easily blend into nighttime shadows.  He hadn’t bothered to notify his friend Ash – the man who had supplied Chip and Ski with the weapons.  He had a feeling that he was still on Ash’s ‘list’ for the weapons not having been returned.  Although, given the man’s talents, Lee was pretty sure that even if the weapons were eventually recovered by the local LEO’s they could never be traced back and cause Ash any trouble.  But coming ashore the way they did both Lee and Hauck were comfortably armed and ready, hopefully, for whatever and whoever they might encounter.

 

Finding the old homestead also went smoothly.  Slightly southwest of Melbourne, once they passed through large residential blocks, the land opened up into much less populated areas.  Lee and Hauck noted the smaller road they’d need to take later, then spent a couple hours meandering around, getting their bearings and trying to spot areas that they could leave the car where there was little chance of it being spotted.  Eventually they headed for the community of West Melbourne.  Lee was originally going to find a small, out of the way spot to have dinner but Hauck had a different thought.  If Walsh was, indeed, still in the area, he’d be more likely to eat at a smaller, locals-oriented place, and the last thing they needed was to run into him by accident.  Acknowledging the MAA’s logic they chose a restaurant attached to one of the bigger hotels in the area.  Both kept their eyes peeled – once Admiral Jones had identified Walsh he’d supplied Lee with a much better picture.  Chip had taken one look and identified him by body type as most likely his and Kowalski’s attacker.  Lee, as was his habit in public places, asked to be seated in a back corner.  It allowed the pair to remain as inconspicuous to the rest of the diners as possible and still have a fairly good view of the entire room.  Thankfully they saw no one who even remotely resembled Walsh.  But they still kept their conversation light, never mentioning anything even remotely associated with Seaview or NIMR, or especially their current assignment.  They ate casually, chatting about whatever happened to come to mind that didn’t involve work.  Eventually it was time to head back to the area of the homestead.  They both took another look around before getting up, and kept on the lookout as they headed back toward the parking lot.

 

Lee was riding shotgun, letting Chief Hauck drive while he scanned for the best of the several choices they’d picked out earlier to leave the car.  There was a small dirt road that took off in the same direction very close to the one they knew went directly to the homestead.  They’d both looked at that and thought that might be the perfect way to access the other property.  But just as they were about to turn and check it out another car was coming toward them and, not wishing to attract attention, Hauck continued on.  Later Lee couldn’t be sure why he’d glanced at the driver but he was extremely glad that he did.  He immediately reached up and adjusted the rear view mirror so that he could watch the car.  Hauck said nothing, but watched as well as he could with the side mirror.  They both saw the car turn down the small lane they’d wanted to take, and Hauck sent Lee a questioning look.

 

“Admiral Garnet,” Lee identified the driver.  “I’m almost sure.  He was alone, I think.”

 

“Only saw one person,” Hauck agreed.  “Now what?”

 

“Now,” Lee took in and blew out a large breath of air, “we find a different spot to stash the car, and investigate that road first.”

 

“Meeting Walsh?”

 

“Can’t think of another reason he’d be down here.  Well,” Lee amended, “I don’t know much about him.”  He sent Hauck a quick grin.  “Mostly it’s just been Admirals Nelson and Jones muttering about what a dipstick he is when they’ve had to deal with him.”  Both men briefly smiled.  “But a separate piece of property would help explain why the locals found nothing on their original search.”

 

Hauck nodded.  “Messes up our parking spot.”

 

“Which means, it might be even safer going down the homestead road.”

 

“Humm,” Hauck agree, and found a place to turn around.  This time as they approached the two drives there wasn’t a vehicle in sight.  Hauck took another look, killed the headlights, and turned down the homestead road.  Because the car was new they still had to contend with the ‘daylight’ headlights.  But that actually worked both ways.  Yes, someone might spot the lights, although the trees and brush were fairly thick so someone would have to be fairly close to see them.  But the soft glow they gave off helped the men see what was around them now that it was completely dark.

 

As it turned out, they didn’t go far before finding a place where they could leave the car.  They backed in just in case they needed to make a fast getaway, and Lee found some fairly loose brush that he could place in front to further camouflage the vehicle.  Both carried small penlights that they kept pointed down to minimize exposure.  And both had chosen dark shirts and slacks to help them blend into the shadows, as well as dark jackets to help cover their assortment of weapons.

 

It didn’t take them long to find where Admiral Garnet had gone.  The car they’d seen was parked, as well as a second nondescript one, alongside a small bungalow-style house.  A couple of rooms showed lights on inside the house.  With some careful looks around, Lee led the way toward the darker side of the building but from there they hesitated.  There was a conversation of some sort going on inside; they could hear voices but not actual words through an open window leading into a bedroom.  Lee was just checking the window to see how much trouble he’d have popping out the screen so they could gain access to the house when one of the voices grew much louder.  “You idiot…” they heard clearly before the voice lowered enough that they couldn’t make out the rest of the sentence.  “NO,” was shouted next, “we had it all planned and you…”  Apparently the other person said something to cut off that shout.  Lee thought that he heard something about “all we have to do is wait…” before that, too, was interrupted.  After that both voices remained too low to hear clearly.  At least Lee thought that it was only two – he couldn’t be sure.  He was back to studying the window screen when there were footsteps inside the house and the bedroom light suddenly flicked on.  Both Lee and Hauck flattened themselves on the ground and hugged the side of the building.  The steps didn’t come near the window, thankfully.  There was the sound of rummaging around in the room a bit, then the light went out and the steps faded away.

 

“Whew,” Lee heard softly from Hauck’s direction.

 

“Yeah,” he agreed, and very slowly stood up.  The screen, he decided, wasn’t going to be a silent option and he motioned Hauck around the corner toward what looked like the back door to the small house.  They hadn’t tried it first as the room it led into, now identified as the kitchen, was one of the lighted rooms.  As Lee expected, it was locked.  He didn’t particularly want to go through the front but he was running out of options.  He was considering picking the lock on the back door when matters were somewhat taken out of his hands.

 

Both men once more flattened when they heard footsteps headed their way, and quickly ducked back around the corner.  When the door opened Lee, peeking carefully, saw Walsh come out and, thankfully, head around the other corner toward the cars.  The two men shared a quick glance but Lee indicated that they should stay where they were.  That proved the right decision as they heard an engine start and head toward them, coming to a stop next to the back door.  Lee was decidedly unhappy, however, when Walsh left his car running and the headlights on; they pointed directly at he and Hauck.  But Walsh didn’t look around, just quickly got out and went back into the house.

 

Before Lee had time to stop him Hauck, gun in hand, moved swiftly to the other side of the car away from the house.  There were some shrubs close behind the car and Lee assumed that Hauck had ducked into them.  Not a bad move at all, he had to admit – Lee was merely a bit perturbed that the MAA had beaten him to it.  But he had little time to ponder the maneuver before he heard the sound of something being dragged, headed once more for the back door, and Walsh appeared.  This time he stopped at the door, dropping whatever he was dragging, and went to open the car trunk. 

 

As he turned back to his ‘cargo’ Hauck stepped out, gun pointed at Walsh.  “Stop,” Hauck ordered.

 

As Walsh startled and stopped, Lee stepped out as well.  “What he said, Walsh.”

 

Ever so slowly Walsh turned his head toward Lee.  “Crane,” came out almost respectfully.  “Heard you were good.”  He nodded behind him.  “Heard you work alone.”

 

Lee shrugged.  “Depends on the circumstances.  Chief…” he started but was cut off by two gunshots coming from the house and he saw Hauck go down.  Walsh scrambled back inside as a couple shots in Lee’s direction sent him back around the corner.  “Chief,” he yelled, trying to watch the back door and, at the same time, the window at his own back.  He was decidedly in the wrong place.

 

“I’m okay,” came from the relative safety of the other side of Walsh’s car.  Lee almost laughed at the comment since it was obvious in the sound of the man’s voice that he wasn’t okay.  He’s definitely been hanging around me too long, Lee half-chuckled to himself.  A noise behind him, possibly coming from the window, made up his mind and, firing a couple shots toward the back door just for effect, scooted around to the other side of the car as well.  Just in time, apparently, as shots barely missed him as he passed in front of the left headlight and landed on the ground next to his MAA.  There was enough light to see a dark stain spreading across Hauck’s right shoulder but he was already shaking his head at Lee.  “Through and through,” he told his CO.  “Hurts like heck but I can still function.”

 

“Going to bleed like heck, too,” Lee told him.

 

“I’ll manage.”

 

“Good, because this viper’s pit is going to take some cleaning out.”  Hauck nodded, a firm look on his face.  “Did you see who shot you?”

 

“Didn’t get a clear look,” Hauck told him.  “We need to make sure that they don’t just leave by the front.”  Lee nodded, and started to head toward the side of the house Walsh had driven around.  “No, sir.  You let me handle that part.”  Lee sent him a raised eyebrow.  “There’s good cover; piece of cake.”

 

“You say when and I’ll lay down some cover fire.”

 

“Don’t worry if you hear a couple shots.”  Lee frowned.  “Tires make great targets.”  They both chuckled softly.

 

Lee wasn’t sure what was going on in the house but, as Hauck prepared to slip away, he sent several more shorts toward the back door as well as the window he now saw facing his direction and then promptly ducked back and reloaded.  He’d just finished when two shots rang out from the front of the house, followed shortly by some answering shots and several angry shouts.

 

When Lee had fired to cover Hauck’s exit he’d tried to get a good look at what Walsh had dragged to the back door.  Whatever it was, it was fairly large and covered in something so Lee couldn’t see it.  He promptly lost interest as more shots were fired in his direction.  “You might as well give up, Walsh,” Lee shouted back.  His only answer was more gunfire so he shut up and concentrated on taking small glances toward the house from the relative safety of behind the back fender.  A quick glance into the open trunk showed that it was empty.

 

He was considering calling in the local LEO’s when there were more angry shouts from inside, and also two more gunshots.  He’d far rather take custody of both Walsh and Garnet and let them be dealt with quietly than having to go through the locals.  He was amazed that there hadn’t been calls already about all the gunshots.  Because of the territory it was hard to judge just how near or far any neighbors might be.  This had all the makings of a long fight, depending on how much ammo Walsh had access to; Lee knew that both he and Hauck were well supplied.  But he also needed to get Hauck help for his wound.  Seaview would be preferred as he wouldn’t have so much explaining to do about why and how the man had been shot.  Something else to play by ear, as it were.

 

Once more circumstances were taken out of his hands.  He barely caught a glimpse of ‘something’ flying out the still open back door and landing in the trunk of the car, and he instantly dived for the shrubs where Hauck had hidden.  Just in time, as the car exploded from what Lee decided must have been a grenade.  Through the flames Lee saw a figure run from the back door toward the side of the house Lee and Hauck had originally crawled along and Lee fired somewhat blindly in that direction, emptying the clip through the fire and reloading as he also hurried in that direction.  In his haste he tripped and fell face forward into he wasn’t sure what kind of bush.  Whatever it was, it had thorns.  Besides being painful they did some extremely ‘interesting’ damage, and not only to his clothes.  Shaking his head slightly, it wasn’t something he had time to worry about at the moment and he scrambled to head toward where he’d last seen Walsh.

 

He needn’t have bothered; Walsh lay sprawled next to the corner of the house almost exactly where Lee had been hiding earlier.  Lee checked carefully, once he’d kicked away the gun he saw next to Walsh’s right hand, but the man was dead.  “Admiral Garnet,” he yelled, “give it up.  Walsh is dead.  You have no way out.”

 

The only answer came from Chief Hauck.  “Skipper, got the front covered.”  Since Lee already knew that he assumed the comment was made for Garnet’s benefit.  When there was no answer, and the car fire started to lose some of its intensity, Lee moved carefully toward the back door.

 

Lee shuddered when he finally got a good look at what lay wrapped up just inside the door.  It was definitely human body sized.  But he didn’t take the time to unwrap it and check for sure.  He inched forward, keeping a close watch for any movement to indicate where Garnet was hiding.  He heard nothing but he was on very high alert as he carefully searched each room he came to.

 

Again he needn’t have bothered – he found the admiral in the living room, shot once in the heart and once in the head.  He gave a shout for Chief Hauck to come in the front and together they finished the search.  Still not hearing any approaching sirens they spent a bit going through the house more carefully.  Lee did give Hauck a rather pointed look but the Chief merely waved it off, handed Lee a pair of surgical gloves as he pulled on a pair of his own, and started going through drawers.  Chip’s going to smack me for corrupting the crew, Lee snickered to himself and went to check what the bundle was by the back door.  It was, indeed, a body.  It was a man, medium build and height, but Lee didn’t recognize him.  By the smell starting to form Lee figured he’d been dead about a day.  Lee searched him but found no ID of any kind and wrapped him back up.  Chief Hauck had better luck; he came up with a briefcase that turned out to belong to Admiral Garnet, and also a wallet that Lee could now say for sure identified the other body as Cdr. Lowen.  “He wasn’t so innocent after all,” Lee muttered, and tossed the wallet into the briefcase along with some other interesting-looking papers they found.

 

Once the whole house had been pretty well searched, and with still no signs of local interference, Lee grabbed his phone.  The call to Seaview was circumspect, with just enough information given to let Admiral Jones know where to send in a clean-up crew.  Lee did take the time to check Chief Hauck’s wound.  It looked a bit messy, and the MAA was obviously in some pain.  But not enough that he didn’t tease Lee about his own less than spiffy appearance: clothes slashed here and there and the occasional bits of blood showing through.  Lee shrugged and told him with a grin that he had to give Jamie something to do.  Lee did take the time to wash Hauck’s wound front and back, and tape a clean towel in place.  Neither man had found any First Aid materials during their search, nor had Lee thought to bring any along – no doubt Chip would also yell at him for that.

 

After one more look around, they gathered up the briefcase along with a few odds and ends they’d come up with including a bank book in the name of Simon Lasky with a rather impressive balance, turned out all the lights, and headed for their car.  Lee had kept an eye on the car fire but it was dying off and wasn’t going to be a problem.  He was a little surprised that the explosion hadn’t also caught the house on fire and shrugged that one off as at least something going right.  Hauck had questioned that it might have been better if it had – less evidence to explain.  Lee reminded him that if it had been a case for the locals, Hauck might be right.  But this way there was the chance that the ONI clean-up team might actually come across something that their quick search had missed.

 

The drive back to Daytona Beach was uneventful, thankfully.  Lee was a bit worried about the swim they’d have to make to get back to FS1.  His own owee’s were going to sting once he hit the salt water but Chief Hauck would be in even worse pain as they had no way to waterproof the injury.  Thankfully there was a drop box for the rental car keys so they didn’t actually have to go in.  Both had brought a change of clothes, just in case, so they didn’t have to worry about blood stains being seen, as well as not getting too many weird looks when they walked to the beach and found a quiet place to change back into swim trunks and await FS1’s signal.

 

Their return to Seaview went just as Lee suspected.  Lee hadn’t bothered to give details of their injuries during his quick call but Chief Sharkey, who picked them up, wasted no time radioing in once the pair was on board.  Lee and Hauck shared a shrug and a quick grin.  The expected welcoming committee included Admirals Nelson and Jones plus Chip, Jamie, and both of his corpsmen.  Lee rolled his eyes but remained silent, knowing that nothing he said would make any difference anyway.  Jones took possession of the briefcase and headed, Lee assumed, to his cabin.  Jamie gave both men a quick glance but focused on Hauck as the most seriously injured and relegated Lee to his corpsmen.  Chip, of course, started muttering the instant Lee came through the hatch.  Lee did get the feeling that the muttering had started even earlier from the fact that Nelson had sent his XO a quick grin accompanied by an even quicker squeeze of the blond’s shoulder.  Chip quieted down but the glare he sent Lee never wavered.  Lee caught Nelson sending them both a fond look as he trailed after Admiral Jones.

 

Lee gave Chip the high points of his trip ashore as Frank, Jamie’s head corpsman, cleaned and medicated his assortment of scratches and punctures.  The blond’s harsh frown finally cracked when presented with a couple of the more…interesting…injuries, and Lee heard Jamie snicker softly as Frank kept him apprised of what he was finding.  Lee was also keeping track of Jamie’s conversation with Chief Hauck and John, the other corpsman, concerning the Chief’s wound.  The doctor was concerned about infection from the swim, but other than that confirmed that the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital and the MAA should heal just fine.  There were complaints from Hauck when Jamie ordered him to a bunk for what was left of the night.  “And probably most of tomorrow,” Jamie sent a glare, defying anyone to challenge his order.  He pointed a finger at the Chief.  “You lost way too much blood for me to be happy letting you out of here.”  Again Lee and Hauck shared a quick look.

 

Lee, at least, was allowed to head for his cabin once Frank was satisfied that he’d found and treated all the injuries, and after administering the long-lasting antibiotic that Jamie ordered.  As expected, no little side trips through the boat were allowed as Chip stayed glued to Lee’s side until Lee was safely ensconced in his bunk.  Then Chip finally relaxed.  They kibitzed for only a few minutes longer and Chip finally headed for his own cabin.  Lee was still a bit keyed up, but he knew that at least a few hours of sleep would be required if he wanted to function by morning and fell asleep fairly quickly.

 

* * * *

 

Lee wasn’t at all surprised to find Chip sitting on the corner of his desk when he stepped out of the shower the following morning, even if it was only a few hours since both had crashed.  Neither said anything.  Lee sent his friend a quick grin and the frown on Chip’s face softened.  They made their usual quick stop in the Conn but then headed for the Officers’ Wardroom.  Lee was in desperate need of coffee and figured that Chip was as well.  They were joined almost immediately by the two admirals.

 

Lee never did learn if either Admiral Jones or Nelson had gotten any sleep but suspected that Jones, at least, hadn’t.  From his quick check of the Duty logs on his way through the Conn he knew that the ONI Director had sent several calls since Lee’s original message, and had received even more.  Lee didn’t ask – it was no longer his case.  And Jones didn’t say much although he did clear up a few details.

 

Finding Cdr. Lowen’s body in Florida, Capt. Kells was convinced that the man was actually involved with the embezzlement of funds – it explained several of the problems Kells was having with his investigation.  There was evidence that suggested Admiral Garnet had lured him down to Florida, probably so that Walsh could make him disappear thus giving everyone else the impression that he’d run away before he could be charged.  Some of the deposits made into the Lasky account were exact amounts missing from the ONI accounts; Jones was extremely happy to be able to reclaim the monies and clear up that whole mess.  Nelson gave Chip coordinates and instructions to surface at 1000 hours – Admiral Jones would be returning to DC.

 

Will frowned when he entered the Wardroom but said nothing except requesting Lee’s presence in Sick Bay for a few minutes to give him another shot of antibiotic.  Lee muttered something about already having enough holes in him, thank you. The resulting chuckles helped to ease everyone’s tension levels.  Lee extended the chuckles when he admitted that he was already intending to head to Sick Bay anyway to check on Chief Hauck.  Even Will grinned.

 

1100 hours found Lee standing in the Nose watching the ocean pass by.  Seaview had submerged once they offloaded Admiral Jones and was now heading home.  He knew that there were still questions that he no doubt would never get answers to but didn’t really care.  For him, it was enough that he’d managed to complete what he’d set out to do.  He felt movement close by and found Chip standing at his shoulder.  The pair stood quietly, watching out Seaview’s front windows, until a shadow was spotted in the distance through the water.  They were still fairly close to Florida’s coastline and therefore still fairly shallow, and the shadow turned into a sea turtle swimming lazily to wherever its destination might be.

 

“No way,” Chip instantly blustered.  “Huh uh.  No more.  Not having any of it,” and he stomped back to the chart table and stopped with his back firmly to the windows.

 

Lee burst out laughing.  “Ah, come on, Chip,” he teased his friend.  “It’s just a simple little turtle.”

 

Chip’s only answer was an order to his second, Lt. Chris James.  “Ahead full, Lieutenant.  I want out of here.  Now!”  Lee laughed even louder as he went to join his XO.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*      see “It’s All Relative” by R. L. Keller

**    LEO – Law Enforcement Officer

***  IBIS – Integrated Ballistics Identification System

**** see “Stark Trek” by R. L. Keller