A novel length story providing the backstory for the third season episode, The Death Watch and what happens next. Please note: A significant amount of retelling of the original episode occurs in my story, and requires the need to offer the necessary credits now, rather than at the end of the tale. The Death Watch was written by William Welch, directed by Leonard Horn, original airdate, November 13, 1966. The voice of the computer was provided by Sue England, a dark haired beauty whose lovely face was just as alluring as her voice.

Until Justice is Rendered

by Lynn

Chapter One

Subliminal Deceit

Admiral Harriman Nelson and Captain Lee Crane sat in the fine restaurant enjoying their coffee after a rather fine meal.

“Any idea of why Dr. Larson wanted us to report this evening instead of in the morning?” Lee asked as the waiter poured more coffee.

“Charles said he just wanted us to be fresh for the tests in the morning,” Harry replied, indicating to the waiter he would pass on a warm up.

Lee raised an eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder elegantly. “I guess it doesn't matter, just curious as to why Chief Sharkey isn't reporting in at the same time?” he asked casually.

“It's really quite simple,” Harry replied, reaching for a cigarette in his breast pocket. “Sharkey is the “control” in the tests; you and I are the “subjects.” We'll undergo Larson's subliminal preparations, but Sharkey will remain untouched by Charles' methods. He'll remain on board to make sure that the tests don't get out of hand, but as the Control element he won't be affected by the subliminal messages broadcasted during the experiment.”

Lee nodded his understanding. “I can't say that I'm all that thrilled at turning Seaview over to the computer to run, nor with the idea that I'll be receiving messages to encourage insubordination,” he said with a worried smile and a raised eyebrow.

“I agree, especially since my messages will be designed to antagonize you,” Harry returned with a tight lipped knowing smile. “But this type of research is necessary if we're going to counter the threat against a real attack of this kind to our servicemen.”

“It's hard to believe we could be manipulated by simple flash images while watching a film,” Lee noted, their conversation spoken in low tones even though their booth was well away from the other restaurant patrons.

“Charles insists that the flash images are extremely suggestive, the fact that you and I were asked to volunteer is directly related to the amount of respect we hold for one another.”

“If Dr. Larson is successful, that respect may be stretched on this run,” Lee said with a half-smile as Harry took the last drag from his cigarette.

“Well, I'll promise not to keel-haul you if you promise not to shoot me out of a torpedo tube,” Harry chuckled.

“That I can promise, Sir, though it might be fun to indulge in a little petulant insubordination,” he joked, as nothing could be further from the truth, something Harry knew full well.

“I won't hold it against you,” Harry promised, knowing the parameters of the test could very well produce some rather heated exchanges between the two.

Lee laughed and then turned to a more solemn tone. “I'm just glad no one but Sharkey will be there to witness it, something inside me hopes we both beat the subliminal messages and it won't go that far,” he said, letting Harry in on his concern for the tests.

“It's for a good cause, Lee. The other side is engaging heavily in this type of research; we need to know how to counter it.”

Lee nodded his understanding, but his expressive eyes were already apologizing for whatever mean, hateful, or spiteful utterances he would soon be directing at his best friend.

“Well now, I think it's about time to head over to the laboratory,” Harry said, looking at his watch and noting the time. “We've got an hour and half drive ahead of us.”

“Aye Sir,” Lee agreed, as Harry reached for his wallet to settle the bill. “If you don't mind, Sir, I'd like to pick this one up,” Lee interrupted, as Harry gracefully relented, knowing that Lee was very uncomfortable with the possibility that the test could manipulate his feelings to the point of insubordination toward him.

With the bill settled, they donned their service caps and left the restaurant, ready to submit themselves to the experiment for the good of their country and the hopes of countering a very real threat to the military men and women of America.

* * * * *

“Can't you hurry this up? Nelson and Crane are scheduled to arrive in little under two hours,” Dr. Wallace asked anxiously.

“Not to worry, Wallace, he's almost ready,” Dr. Charles Larson assured his fellow scientist.

“Will he remember the conditioning? This whole thing will go bust if he remembers even being here,” Wallace asked with a nervous twitch to his cheek.

“He won't remember a thing, and his conditioning is far less severe than Nelson or Crane's will be. He'll report into the Seaview without knowledge of the tests and will change the subliminal tape reels without even knowing he's done it, extending the experiment past the original parameters. No one will know that the role as the Control in the tests was affected by pre-conditioning, they'll positively assume he was caught up in the messages himself.”

Wallace rung his hands, his nervous energy nearly taking over. “I hate all of this intrigue. What if they discover what we did?” he whispered, his eyes searching to the right and left making sure their conversation was private.

“Relax Wallace, don't fall apart on me,” he threatened more than advised. “It will all be over soon. Nelson will be dead and Crane will take the fall with Chief Sharkey there to witness it all. The test parameters don't call for violent acts so everyone will believe that it was Crane's own natural desire to kill Nelson and not the experiment itself. It's the perfect frame-up.”

“I just hope all this is worth it, there's got to be easier ways to eliminate these two.”

“Others have tried and failed many times before and besides, I get the feeling my employer likes to do things very elaborately. He's making it well-worth our time.”

“You may be doing this for the money Larson, but you know I'm only in it for my wife... she needs that medical treatment and it's not approved yet in the US. Once we're done here, we're on a plane to South America and we're never looking back.”

Larson shrugged his shoulder. “You spend your money your way Wallace, but I have other plans for mine.”

“It looks like the reel is almost finished,” Wallace said noting the projection reel was nearing its end.

“Fine, as soon as it's over we'll test his responses,” Larson said turning toward the small projection room and smiling at their test subject sitting dumbly, watching the screen with a blank face and receiving a full download of instructions hidden in the simple documentary about the migrating habits of monarch butterflies.

* * * * *

Chief Sharkey sat in the screening room watching the film, his attention glued keenly on the screen. His face was expressionless, his eyes scanning, drinking in every visual flash suggestion made while his brain processed the subliminal messages without his knowledge. He had been called in to receive instructions for the experiment and had spent three hours in the preparation room before being led to the screening room. He was a sponge, receiving very different instructions than he’d originally been briefed for when asked to participate.

At the end of the film he continued to sit, watching the blank, white screen with absolutely no urge to move.

“Is he still under the influence of the conditioning?” Wallace asked, concerned that everything could blow up at any moment.

“Of course he is,” Larson glared back. “Just look at him, he's still staring at the blank screen and hasn't moved a muscle, and he's still in a highly suggestive state. I assure you, he'll remain that way until we dismiss him.”

“Then let's get this over with before Nelson and Crane arrives,” Wallace said, checking his watch again.

Larson just smiled, but there was no humor behind his eyes, just ill-intent as he walked to the front of the screening room to stand in front of Sharkey's line of sight.

“State your name,” Dr. Larson ordered in a rather monotone voice.

“Francis Ethelbert Sharkey,” he replied without any regard for the fact that he never used his given name, preferring just Sharkey or his initials when pressed.

“Very well Francis Ethelbert Sharkey, are your instructions clear?”

“They are clear,” he repeated almost robotically, his eyes glazed and his voice monotone.

“Repeat them.”

“I will report to the Boat in two days as ordered. I will change the tapes as instructed.”

“Very good Francis. You will not remember your visit here.”

“I will not remember my visit here,” Sharkey repeated obediently, completely accepting his orders.

“You will not remember the experiment at all.”

Sharkey nodded his understanding.

“Now who gave the order to retrofit the Seaview with the new computer?” Larson asked, checking Sharkey's programming.

“Admiral Nelson,” Sharkey replied.

“Who ordered the crew’s shore leave?”

“Admiral Nelson.”

“What are you testing, Francis?”

“The new automatic warning system,” Sharkey replied, the real parameters of the experiment completely lost to him at this point.

“Very good, Chief Sharkey. You will now return home, go to bed, and you will not remember your visit here or speaking with me at all. Is that clear?”

Sharkey nodded dumbly.

“You're excused, Chief Sharkey,” Larson said as Sharkey stood and moved slowly for the door. He headed straight for his car and obediently returned to Santa Barbara. Once home, he readied himself for bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was asleep, obeying his instructions without question. He had no recollection of his visit, the bright lights that had assaulted him in the preparation room, or the film he had watched with the subliminal messages dictating his instructions. The day after tomorrow, he would head to Seaview completely unaware of the experiment he was participating in, or the part he would unknowingly play in Dr. Larson's plot to kill Admiral Harriman Nelson by the hand of his best friend, Captain Lee Crane.

Chapter Two

Original Parameters

“So Sharkey will be subjected to the same taped subliminal messages, but will remain unaffected?” Lee clarified trying to wrap his mind around the parameters of the experiment as the two drove south to Dr. Larson's lab.

“Yes, as the Controlling element Sharkey's responses will be gauged against our own; every valid scientific experiment requires a Control to truly assess the success or failure of the experiment. It's usually given as a placebo when drugs are tested and helps to sort out the true reactions and effects versus a person's possible false reactions due to the power of suggestion.”

Lee nodded, dividing his attention between driving and completely understanding the scientific process, but not exactly comfortable with allowing himself to be manipulated.

“Lee, if you're uncomfortable with the experiment...”

Lee shook his head in the negative resolutely. “No Sir,” he interrupted emphatically. “My concerns are purely selfish... I don't like to be manipulated,” he shared honestly, pursing his lips before continuing. “But if you're bound and determined to participate, then there's no way I'm going to allow someone else to be insubordinate to you. I trust my reactions might be terse and inappropriate, but I know they won't turn violent.”

Harry nodded in new understanding, realizing that Lee was concerned someone else would go too far in the experiment and possibly strike him, especially if he turned Captain Bligh, antagonizing his experiment partner.

“Well, the tape is only two hours Lee, once it runs out Sharkey will run the “Experiment Ended” tape and we'll be back to normal. We'll both overlook the possible snide remarks we make knowing full well we were manipulated by design in the experiment,” Harry said, assuring Lee he wouldn't hold his attitude against him in any way, since the experiment was designed to push the envelope of even the two well-trained officers with high regard for one another by utilizing inaudible, high-frequency tones issued on the tape.

“But given the ease at which subliminal messages could be inflicted upon our military through a variety of means, then this test is of the utmost importance to study our reactions and take the next step to finding a way to counter the effects.”

“I agree Admiral,” Lee added with a small smile. “And it might be fun to give back a little attitude to a Four Star,” he teased, lightening the mood.

“Like it’s something new,” Harry shot back snidely in jest as Lee, though always respectful, had no trouble standing up to the Brass when the safety of Seaview or its crew was in question.

Lee chuckled lightly as the two continued their drive, comfortable in their relationship and confident that the experiment wouldn’t alter the strong bond between them.

* * * * *

“Good evening Dr. Larson,” Lee said reaching for the lead scientist's extended hand in greeting.

“Good evening, Captain Crane,” he replied with a broad smile, returning Lee's handshake.

“Ah Harriman, so good to see you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your cooperation. Experiments like these are highly sensitive in nature and I know we will learn much for your participation,” Larson said, reaching for Harry's hand as well.

“You're more than welcome, Charles. I believe that your work here will help to neutralize the dangers of Subliminal Suggestion, it's too important to ignore,” Harry replied earnestly.

Larson nodded his thanks and then turned toward Wallace. “May I present my very able partner in this endeavor, Dr. Grant Wallace.”

“Pleased to meet you both,” Wallace said shaking both of their hands and not able to completely hide his nervousness. His eyes narrowed unwillingly and the palms of his hands were sweaty, something Lee noticed as he read the doctor's body language and silently pondered how uncomfortable his demeanor was at this crucial time.

“Well now,” Wallace said, dropping his hands into this white lab jacket so he could inconspicuously wipe his sweaty hands. “We're all ready for you gentlemen, but first we want to answer any questions you might have,” he continued, sweeping a hand toward a conference table for a pre-experiment briefing.

The four men took their chairs with Harry and Lee on one side of the table and Dr. Larson and Wallace on the other side.

“I was curious as to why we we're asked to report this evening instead of tomorrow morning, since the experiment isn't scheduled until Sunday,” Lee asked, voicing his question from earlier.

“Did you have a hot date tonight?” Dr. Larson asked, joking about the fact that it was Friday evening.

Lee smiled tentatively. “No, nothing like that, it's just a question I wondered about.”

Larson sat forward with his hands folded in front of him. “It's really quite simple, Captain Crane. We'd like to begin the preparations at six am, that would have made a very early morning for you followed by a long drive and we need you well rested to ensure the success of experiment.”

“That makes perfect sense, I was just curious,” Lee conceded.

“Well then, let's brief you on the experiment and then we can answer any specific questions you might have before we let you retire for the evening,” Larson said.

“Fine Charles,” Harry said, slightly irritated that Lee had brought back up the timing of the meeting this evening when it had already been explained.

“Good. Now this is the tape that will broadcast on your communications system during your short voyage,” Dr. Larson said, placing a reel inside the player and pressing the green button to play. A strange squeal was heard and then silence, a moment later another squeal was heard.

Lee and Harry exchanged curious glances.

“I know Gentlemen, you didn't hear anything but I assure you, your brain registered it just as subliminal flash messages given in pictures during a film are seen and understood by the brain, even though you don't remember seeing the pictures.”

“It's been proven to work in movie theaters,” Dr. Wallace added. “Theater operators worked in conjunction with their marketers and spliced items from the concessions stand into the opening cartoon. Sales skyrocketed for popcorn, candy and soda pop for the movies that played the subliminal flash messages compared to the movies that had no such messages.”

“That's quite invasive,” Lee noted, not impressed with the scenario at all.

“Which is why the Feds have outlawed the process,” Wallace agreed.

“And clearly demonstrates our need for this experiment,” Larson joined in. “As you can see, the possibility for abuse is astounding.”

“I completely agree,” Harry chimed in, with Lee nodding his own agreement.

“Now I can't reveal the content of the tape you just heard as that would negate the purpose for learning about the subliminal messages; we need to know to what extent the messages are received and understood as well as observing your actions and reactions,” Larson continued. “But as you are well aware from the experiment parameters, you Captain Crane will be pushed to insubordination by the subliminal messages directed at you, while you Harriman will be adding fuel to the fire by antagonizing and reinforcing your desire to verbally lash back.”

“How will we know which subliminal message is directed at us personally? What's to keep me from picking up on the Admiral's message and acting them out?” Lee asked, sitting forward intently.

“That high pitched squeal you heard earlier was actually a statement full of instructions. It's sped up so fast that all your ear heard was the squeal; your brain however, both heard and articulated the entire message; that's the subliminal message we're exploring. Each of these messages will be addressed to one of you with instructions for the other to ignore it. When a message is directed to Admiral Nelson, your brain will ignore the instructions and vice versa,” Dr. Wallace jumped in, eager to explain.

“Dr. Wallace here perfected this means of subliminal suggestion,” Dr. Larson explained. “He's really quite talented and I'm convinced the experiment will proceed exactly as planned.”

“And the duration of the tests?” Harry asked in clarification.

“Two hours,” Larson answered. “The entirety of the experiment will be confined to the Seaview using the Communications System to deliver the messages. The fact that the boat can be batten down to provide a confined, controlled area for the experiment is critical, as is conducting the experiment under the conditions of your normal routine, hence the need for the super computer to run the submarine.”

Both Lee and Harry nodded, having fully read the mission parameters earlier.

“Then one cassette tape will cover the entire experiment?” Harry asked.

“Yes, we've designed the experiment to rattle your cages, perhaps induce some arguments but in no way to escalate beyond some heated exchanges between the two of you,” Larson replied matter of factly. “I'm well aware of your outstanding service record, so the fact that insubordination on Captain Crane's part is antithetical to his beliefs and established behavior will prove the subliminal messages are effective. Likewise, we know that you Harriman are an excellent leader; your unprovoked antagonism toward Captain Crane will also serve to prove or disprove our methods. The degree to which you react will also be observed and measured by our Controlling element, Chief Sharkey. The actual orders followed will be observed by the computer program that has been installed on the Seaview, as will the intermittent time lapse between the commands to the execution.”

“What assurances have been taken to make sure the experiment stays within a reasonable 'insubordinate' response?” Lee asked, his concern easily seen in his eyes.

“As you know, all weapons aboard the Seaview have been neutralized. There will be no firearms on the short cruise whatsoever,” Dr. Larson noted emphatically.

“And Chief Sharkey will be there to end the experiment should either one of you take an inappropriate turn in your responses. Once the 'Experiment Ended' tape is initiated, your mind will be released from the subliminal messages and you will immediately regain your normal behavior patterns.”

Lee blew a breath out with a slight shake of the head. “Well it looks like you've thought of everything,” he conceded.

“Captain Crane, I perceive even the idea of acting out in an insubordinate manner toward Admiral Nelson is distasteful to you, and I can tell you that is exactly the reason why the two of you are perfect for the experiment,” Dr. Larson encouraged. “If you react in the manner we expect you to, then these experiments will be an invaluable tool in developing a counter attack.”

Lee nodded. “I understand the importance of the experiment,” he replied sincerely before turning toward Harry.

“Are you comfortable with the experiment parameters, Sir?” he asked Harry, knowing that in the morning, the two of them would accept the preparations for the experiment before heading back to Santa Barbara. On Sunday, the experiment would begin when they boarded Seaview and the tapes were initiated. Come Sunday, he and the Admiral would be at odds for two full hours. It was only two hours, and yet Lee felt it was like a lifetime because in those two hours he would be manipulated and out of control of his own actions. It wasn't something he looked forward to, no matter how short the duration.

“I believe Doctors Larson and Wallace have constructed a very complete and well-thought out experiment. I trust their scientific method and I trust the good that will come out of the experiment once complete,” Harry summarized.

Lee smiled slightly. “Then I'm ready,” he replied making strong eye contact with Harry then turning toward the two scientist and nodding his readiness.

“Very good, gentlemen. Dr. Wallace will escort Admiral Nelson to his quarters, and I will escort you Captain Crane to your quarters. Your bags have already been stowed there,” Larson said standing and sweeping a hand outward. “Shall we?” he asked in invitation.

“Very well,” Harry said rising from his chair, but stopping and turning toward Lee first. He offered a hand, which Lee took in a mutually strong shake; the two exchanging with their eyes their ongoing respect for one another before Harry broke the grasp.

“See you tomorrow, Lee,” Harry said, as the two would return to Santa Barbara unaffected by the preparations until they boarded Seaview Sunday morning.

“Aye Sir,” Lee returned as each followed their respective hosts to their sleeping quarters for the night.

* * * * *

Harry followed behind Dr. Wallace as they headed to his quarters on the other side of the complex.

“I'm so very excited to be working with you, Admiral Nelson,” Wallace offered pleasantly.

“Thank you Dr. Wallace, the feeling is mutual. I believe in what you're doing here and I certainly want to see a successful counter-measure developed for this technique,” Harry replied in all sincerity as the thought of suggestive messages used against military troops was disturbing, not to mention the fact that it would be fairly easy to implement such messages to the public in general. The potential for misuse and outright deviance was too great to ignore.

“Here we are, Admiral,” Wallace said arriving at a door and swaying a hand inward. Harry started to step inward, but turned to ask about the light and was greeted to a gun loaded with a dart.

“What's this?” Harry asked in instant concern.

“Just step inside Admiral Nelson, it will all become clear very soon,” Wallace said with a nod of his dart gun to illustrate the direction Harry should take. Harry stepped backwards; his face dark, his lips pursed and his eyes dangerous.

“I don't know what this is all about, but so help me...”

“Relax Nelson, it will all be over soon and you'll be on your boat by Sunday, just as planned.”

Upon those words Wallace fired the gun with the dart finding its mark on the Admiral's shoulder. Harry reached for the dart but the drug was fast acting, causing him to sink to his knees. He looked up at his assailant through foggy eyes, quickly losing their focus with Wallace's last words haunting his fading lucidity... “You'll be on your boat by Sunday, just as planned.”

Those words caused instant concern for the scheme he and Lee had apparently, unknowingly walked into. He used his last moment of coherency wondering what was happening to Lee and just what Wallace and Larson were up to.

* * * * *

Lee followed Dr. Larson through the complex, the lights were dim as it was late at night and he hadn't seen any lab assistants, nightly janitorial service, security guards... no one except Larson and Wallace. Given the lateness of the night, he figured that was reasonable.

“Both Dr. Larson and myself will be staying here this evening as well,” Dr. Larson said with a polite smile. “Your room is quite comfortable and I'm confident you'll find everything you need for a restful evening,” he assured.

“Thank you Dr. Larson, I'm sure it will be just fine,” Lee replied politely.

“Ah here it is,” Larson said, arriving at a particular door. “The light switch is to the right,” he instructed as Lee stepped into the dark room. He reached for the light and floundered when his hand found only a smooth wall beneath his fingers, but before he could inquire about the missing light switch the door behind him was slammed closed followed by the sounds of electronic deadbolts sliding into place.

Chapter Three

Paradigm Shift

Lee banged on the door, this wasn't in the experiment parameters and he could think of no reason to bolt him into his room. It was pitch dark for several minutes, even the light from under the door way had been neutralized.

“Larson!” Lee yelled, banging his fist on the door before abandoning his futile effort. He was totally blind with no light whatsoever to adjust to as he moved along the wall, trying to get a feel for his unexpected imprisonment. He moved along the wall estimating his cell to be an eight foot by three foot room. As he groped blindly along the perimeter of the room, he realized that there was no furniture in the room at all; no cot, no bathroom facilities, absolutely nothing but him and the darkness.

After spending those few moments investigating his surroundings he sank his back against the far wall across from where he figured the door was situated, and slowly slid down to sit on the floor. As soon as he settled into a sitting position, he was assaulted by unnaturally bright lights and a loud blaring buzzer that jolted him in surprise. Lee raised his hands to his ears and the light hurt, even with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. After a few moments the buzzer stopped, but he found no relief from the lights which still shone brightly.

“Welcome Captain Crane,” he heard from the speaker located over his head too loud to ignore. “By now you realize that the experiment parameters have taken an unexpected turn.”

Lee gritted his teeth, recognizing Dr. Larson's voice on the other end of the speaker, along with the eerie self-satisfied tone of the scientist.

“What do you want Larson? What's this all about?” he yelled back, hoping to find out what was going on, knowing that this wasn't a military experiment any longer but something far more sinister.

“We will now begin training your mind to accept the new parameters, Captain Crane,” Larson announced, completely ignoring Lee's questions.

“What do you mean, 'New parameters'?” he yelled back.

Again his question was ignored as plumes of gas began to drop from the ceiling. Lee moved to the door, holding his breath and desperately trying to find a way out until the gas overtook him, causing him to stumble back toward the wall. To his surprise, it wasn't a knock-out gas but a mind-altering drug causing him to become dizzy and disoriented. He slid back down the wall as his mind began racing with colors shooting in all directions toward him. The colors turned psychedelic as Lee reached up and loosened his tie and the top two buttons, while simultaneously trying to slow his breathing down and cope with the drug forced upon him. The colors then morphed into a swirling pattern as his emotions took a turn for the worse, while he tried unsuccessfully to dampen down the over-riding, powerful burst of anxiety and angst that sprang up from deep within him.

Lee leaned his head back against the wall, employing every bit of training he had acquired over the years to deal with the mind-altering effects of the drug. His body shook unwillingly as he closed his eyes to concentrate, but as soon as his eyelids fell he was assaulted by the loud buzzer, jolting him again and adding to the foreboding anxiety threatening to overtake him. He looked up, scanning the ceiling until he found the camera, mounted flush with the ceiling and impossible to disengage.

“What's this game you're playing, Larson?” he yelled toward the camera.

Instantly his outburst was rewarded with another loud buzzer that caused him to throw his hands to his ears to protect his hearing.

He tamped down his drug-altered emotions, unwilling to let Larson see him break when the drug took an unexpected turn. The anxiety was joined by tingling and the creepy-crawly feeling of bugs running up and down, just under his skin.

“Damn you, Larson,” he breathed out, invoking years of training to not give into the need to brush away unseen bugs from his arms and legs. He battled the invisible bugs in his mind for another half-hour before the plumes of gas appeared again, dropping ominously from the ceiling. Lee eyed the camera, staring down his tormentor even though he couldn't see him as the drug filled the small room, this time issuing an instant calming effect as a false peace swept over him. Instantly he knew the game; a complacency drug. He didn't want to welcome the peace, because doing so would put him one step further to their first goal: to make the subject grateful for their intervention. Eventually, the drug did its job as Lee's head rested back, the fire from his eyes nearly extinguished as his mind began to wipe clear of all emotion. All his rage at being tortured, all his concern for Harry who was no doubt facing a similar fate, all his fight began to leech away as his mind emptied... readying for the next step in Larson's devious plan. He held onto what little fight he had left, willing himself to remember that his will belonged to him, that his mind wasn't an open book to be rewritten at Larson's fancy. Over and over he repeated his defiance in his mind until he became too weary to continue. Slowly his eyes fluttered and fell closed, but once again he was met by the buzzer, shocking him back awake as the lights brightened in added punishment. Lee threw his arm over his eyes to cover them until they lowered again, still uncomfortably bright but less intrusive as he realized that sleep deprivation played a key role in Larson's conditioning.

His mind wandered to Harry and what he must be going through, but the rage that should have followed that thought was lost in the lethargic haze created by the complacency drug. Somehow he knew the Admiral was experiencing the same treatment and used what little defiance he still had to issue a silent prayer for his best friend.

Hold on Harry, I'll get to you somehow, he promised as he continued to battle the overwhelming urge of his mind to empty so that Larson could fill it with new instructions... new parameters. Just what he didn't know, but he had to keep fighting; this was all he had left... the need to fight.

* * * * *

Wallace waited until the dart had become fully effective, releasing a series of time-released responses into Admiral Nelson. He watched from his camera as Nelson's head rolled from side to side, fighting the bright lights, the buzzer urging him to stay awake, and the barrage of colors swirling over his head.

The sound of an intercom buzzing drew Wallace's attention as he reached for the handset.

“Yes?” Wallace answered, dividing his interest between the call and Nelson, ready to issue another blast of buzzer if Nelson's eyes fluttered closed.

“How is it going?” Dr. Larson asked.

“As planned,” Wallace replied, watching Nelson reach to brush away the creepy-crawly feeling as the drug moved to its next stage.

“Good. Crane is well underway in the process as well.”

“So the gas is as effective as the dart after all?” Wallace asked in heartless scientific curiosity.

“Absolutely, he's fighting the complacency but it will be in vain. There's no way he can keep it up until tomorrow evening,” Larson advised.

Wallace nodded in agreement. “It's a good thing that Nelson's parameters are less severe; I don't expect it will take as long to program the new parameters.”

“Don't be overly confident; remember, you'll have to override the obvious bond the two share before you can issue the new parameters.”

“I developed both the gas and the dart drug, Larson, I know what I'm doing,” Wallace replied, a bit miffed at Larson's 'coaching'.

“Fine, fine. Just keep at him. I'd like for both men to be programmed and ready to return to Santa Barbara by Saturday evening. They'll drive home not even knowing they've been conditioned and show up on Seaview Sunday with blank minds for the subliminal messages to dictate their actions,” Larson said repeating the plan.

Wallace rolled his eyes at Larson's need to repeat the already well-versed plan. “You just do your part... Nelson will be programmed and ready by tomorrow evening, I guarantee it,” with that he hung up the handset and issued another buzzer followed by the brightening of the lights. He issued an accompanying smile, finding himself oddly enjoying the process of controlling another man's life, his entire paradigm, and rewriting the circumstances at which Nelson would respond to the subliminal messages to suit his needs. The feeling of unchecked power rushed through his body like an adrenalin charge as his smile widened.

“Soon Nelson. Soon you will believe whatever I tell you,” he promised darkly, riding on the strange high of domination and control.

* * * * *

From the moment the dart hit his shoulder Harry felt the strange mind-altering effects of the fast acting drug. His body was rather limp as he crumbled to the floor and heard the door slam shut. He breathed shallow breaths while taking the opportunity to scope out his cell... it could be nothing else, he had been lured here under false pretenses and was now being manipulated to some unknown purpose.

Swirls of lights overtook him, his mind raced as an unnatural anxiety threatened to panic him while Harry fought to keep his reasoning. Slowly he was able to put the anxiety at bay as he turned his head to survey the all-white room with no furniture. He thought he might be able to sit up when his skin began crawling, instinctively he tried to brush away the offending bugs but realized there were none and silently cursed Charles Larson, a man he had previously considered a friend.

Between his untamed emotions and the skin crawling, he was becoming exhausted as the mental strain of keeping his wits wearied him. He blew a breath out and closed his eyes, only to be met with that damned buzzer again. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to rest or sleep.

His body and limbs were heavy, the drug obviously zapping a great deal of strength in an attempt to wear down the subject's will, he surmised as he was clearly being subjected to some sort of mind control or behavior modification techniques. The crawling sensation under his skin bordered on torture as he pondered its role; whether it was purely to produce agitation or if it was accomplishing something else he could only guess. Harry continued struggling against anxiety and agitation as the bright lights which were adjusted at an unnatural luminous state, physically hurting his eyes. A monster headache was forming, so he closed his eyes tightly, only to be met with the invasive buzzer shocking his eyes open, which were subsequently met by a brightening of the offensive lights.

He got the picture; no rest whatsoever. Harry moved slowly and positioned himself against the wall, hoping that the lights would be easier dealt with if he could look toward a wall instead of the ceiling. As he moved, he thought of Lee. Surely Larson and Wallace were in league together in some grand scheme and he could only surmise that Lee was receiving a similar treatment.

Damn it Larson, when I get my hands on you... he thought inwardly but apparently his facial expression had changed, alerting Wallace of his defiance. He was rewarded with the buzzer and light treatment again and sunk into the wall to cope. He couldn't let them take his will away, he'd fight till the end, but he had no intention of going down easily. That thought had barely escaped before the drug moved from disturbing to strangely serene and peaceful, effectively placating his stress. In a moment of peace he thought again about Lee, but only for a moment as Harry's mind began to empty. For a fleeting moment, he realized that to accept the peace would place him one step closer to mind manipulation as Harry fought to remember he was being conditioned or brainwashed, but those lucid moments began to dissipate as his eyes turned glossy, his face expressionless and his body completely relaxed as he slumped against the wall.

It was then that the voice started.

* * * * *

Lee sat against the wall fighting the peace draping him like a warm blanket on a cold day. He didn't want their comfort because he knew there was a price to pay for it; nothing was free in this game. His body showed all the signs of the drug's influence as his arms were limp and heavy. His head laid back against the wall in weariness, even if they wouldn't allow him to close his eyes. His eyes were losing their sharpness and his face was relaxed, having lost the intensity of the glare he wished he could form right now; but inside he was still defiant, still resisting.

The buzzer sounded once again, even though he hadn't closed his eyes and the lights brightened sharply, as he squinted against the pain. The loud blare of the buzzer continued for longer than the previous times before it quieted in blessed silence; that's when the recording started.

“You are Lee Benjamin Crane, Commander, United States Navy,” the disembodied voice said in a most calming, pleasing and peaceful voice... a decidedly feminine voice.

“You are the captain of the submarine, Seaview,” it continued as Lee wondered just what the ploy was. So far, he could disagree with nothing; still he remained defiant, refusing to trust his captors.

“You live at 1101 Seaside Road. Is all this correct?”

Lee found himself answering before he could stop. “Yes,” he replied before reminding himself that he'd been down this road once before, when the People's Republic had brainwashed him into sabotaging Seaview's mission to place the underwater missiles into their hidden silos. He'd been so compromised that he had even attempted to shoot Admiral Nelson at their command. He realized that he needed to remain defiant and give them nothing for their effort, though he greatly feared he wouldn't be able to resist. Damn it, not again, he thought to himself as he willed himself to resist.

To his surprise the calming voice remained so, simply repeating the facts of who he was, adding more about his life.

“You are an able seaman and a patriot,” the voice added. “You are completely loyal to your country.”

“Yes,” Lee answered again, much too quickly, and hoped that the truth would be stronger than their lies, if he couldn't hold onto the truth then what?

“You would give your life for your country and your fellow servicemen.”

“Yes, I would,” he agreed, feeling somewhat relieved that he wasn't being programmed to betray to his country again. Relief swept over him causing him to swallow hard. What are they after? he wondered silently.

“You can't be bought,” she stated. “If I were to offer you a million dollars to betray your country you would turn it down without a second thought.”

Lee nodded in instant agreement, closing his eyes as the relaxing elements of both the drug and the soothing voice lulled him to the rest he craved. No sooner did his eyelids drop as the buzzer and lights made another appearance.

“Let's begin again,” the voice said and the mantra repeated. After a while he sat back listening without any response either given or demanded as the soothing female voice supported who he was and his high values. Each time he started to drift off the buzzer and lights would return and the whole account would start again from the beginning.

Several hours into the constant barrage of her voice he got fed up.

“Just stop it! I don't know what you're trying to achieve here, but whatever it is you won't get anything from me!” he promised darkly, finding his glare once again.

His outburst was met with the expected punishment only this time, after the buzzer stopped blaring the gas made another appearance as Lee grimaced, knowing he was in for round two of the conditioning. The gas produced the same effects as before starting with the psychedelic light show and his barely controlled emotions of anxiety. That was joined by the crawling bugs under his skin and before long he was back to the peaceful state trying to woo him into complete compliancy as the voice began again.

“You are Lee Benjamin Crane, Commander, United States Navy...”

And so it went for hours before the game changed.

* * * * *

“You are Harriman Horatio Nelson, Admiral, US Navy, Retired...”

The female voice repeated his credentials and outstanding character over and over as Harry's eyes glossed. She outlined his devotion to duty and service to his country; his love for truth and justice; his loyalty and his expectation of the same from the men who served under him. Harry nodded, agreeing with her long soliloquy, finding himself in complete compliance as he reached up and rubbed the place where the dart had struck him.

“You can't be bought,” she stated. “If I were to offer you a million dollars to betray your country you would turn it down without a second thought.”

“It's all true,” he replied in a monotone voice as Dr. Wallace smiled from inside the control booth. The drug was working perfectly; Nelson was now ready to move into phase two.

Wallace raised his watch and checked the time, it was nearing 0500 and they had been at it all night. The long night had been expected and he was well prepared as he stopped to stretch before pulling out the tape that he had played over and over for Nelson. He was responding in perfect form as his mind had no reason to fight the truthful words uttered over and over. Now it was time to fill Nelson's mind with another “truth”. A new paradigm shift changing his views, beliefs and even memories of Lee Crane. A “truth” that would allow Nelson to behave in the exact opposite of his true beliefs. A “truth” that would demand Crane be stopped, by death if needs be, for the traitor he was.

He jolted Nelson awake again as the silence had lulled him to a brief sleep before adjusting the lights, this time to flash constantly, then pressed the play button as the new tape was presented.

“Lee Crane is a traitor,” the sweet, soft, soothing voice said.

“No,” Harry breathed out, only to be met by the buzzer.

“Let's begin again,” she said matter-of-factly, indicating that his response was unacceptable.

“Lee Crane is a traitor. He has been bought by money and power...”

“No,” Harry disagreed, with barely any conviction as the flashing lights assaulted him, but having already been trained not to close his eyes he watched the lights helplessly.

“Let's begin again. Lee Crane is a traitor. He has been bought by money and power to do a terrible, dastardly deed. He pretends to be your friend, but now you are of no more use to him...”

“No,” Harry whimpered, he didn't want to believe it, but his emotions were working against him. The drug, the conditioning the blasted lights flashing, they were all working against him. Somewhere inside he wanted to hold on to the truth, but found he couldn't grasp it any longer.

“Let's begin again. Lee Crane is a traitor. He has been bought by money and power to do a terrible, dastardly deed. He pretends to be your friend, but now you are of no more use to him. He has agreed to kill you. His bank account is now one million dollars richer because he has agreed to betray his country, kill you, and steal Seaview.”

This time Harry said nothing. There was no protest... just a silent cry in his heart for the fact that Lee would betray him so. The lights continued to flash as the voice fed him a complete scenario of Lee's crimes against his country and his willingness to kill Nelson, steal Seaview, and turn over all her secrets to a foreign power to be used against the country he loved. She repeated Lee's crimes over and over... his contempt for Harry, his willingness to turn traitor until Harry's sorrow turned to rage; until he knew he had to stop at nothing to stop Lee Crane.

* * * * *

Wallace looked at his watch and smiled; it was now 10:00 a.m. It had only taken five hours for the conditioning to rewrite Nelson's whole belief system where Lee Crane was concerned. His smile widened, he couldn't help but be proud at how well the drug was working in combination with the conditioning techniques. He was doing what brainwashers were taking days and even weeks to accomplish. The thought made him giggle, as he raised a hand against his mouth, surprised by his own response. He calmed himself and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth realizing that he was in the process of betraying his country, but he knew there was no way back now. He thought of his sick wife and wished he could blame this drastic step on his part to his love and devotion to her, but deep down he knew he was enjoying the success of his work and wondered what his wife would do if she even knew what he had done to secure her medical treatment.

He lowered his eyes and contemplated silently for a moment, then caught Nelson closing his eyes. Instantly his resolve returned as he reached over to add the buzzer and brighten the lights, then reached for the third tape; the tape that would issue Nelson the new parameters for his actions once he boarded Seaview. As he worked, he allowed the self-doubt to slip away while the adrenalin of power rushed through him... he was reshaping a man to do what he wanted... NO! He was reshaping a man to do what he demanded... and it was exhilarating. Perhaps he would stay on with the project after all. It was true that he had developed the drugs and scripted the technique, but it was Larson’s sensory discipline that made the process possible. They were quite a team and stronger working together. He reasoned with complete financial backing they could continue to develop and create. Who knows how far they could go in mind domination. The thought brought another smile as he pressed the play button.

“You will arrive for your departure on Sunday morning. You will not remember being here or the experiment at all.”

Harry nodded, accepting his parameters as she continued.

“You have just learned of Lee Crane's deal and the payoff he took in order to fulfill a “hit” on you. You know of all his treachery and you know he must be stopped...”

“He must be stopped,” Harry repeated as the voice continued, setting Harriman Nelson's feet upon a path that would demand he stop Lee Crane in order to save Seaview and protect his country.

Chapter Four

Let’s Begin Again

Larson looked at his watch, it was ten in the morning and Crane was still defiantly resisting the new programming where Nelson was concerned. He was getting as tired of hearing Karina's voice as Crane was, but dutifully hit the buzzer as the flashing lights caused Lee to shield his eyes.

“Harriman Nelson is a traitor...”

“No! Damn it No!” Lee yelled back; he wasn't going to do this again, he resolved to himself. He wasn't going to believe their lies like he did when the PR brainwashed him. That time it was the electric shock in conjunction with the drugs and sleep deprivation that had caused his mind to finally break in self-preservation. Whatever the method, the end result was unacceptable.

“Let's begin again,” she said for the hundredth time. “Harriman Nelson is a traitor. He has made a deal with the People's Republic to either kill you or turn you over to their interrogators. He doesn't care which, as long as he is rid of you...”

“No!” he yelled back, knowing that the last time all he had done was concede on one point and his whole belief system was compromised. “Nelson is the best man I know,” he said, defending Harry's honor before the buzzer sounded cruelly and the blinking lights flashed horribly in painful punishment.

“Let's begin again...”

“You can run that damn tape all you want, Larson!” he yelled. “But I'm not buying it,” he finished, finding his way to his feet and holding himself steady against the wall with one hand.

His defiance was met again with the buzzer, the lights, and then the gas as Lee sunk back against the wall, sliding down and pulling his knees close to his chest as the whole process began again.

* * * * *

Dr. Wallace left Nelson sitting in the screening room watching a documentary on the hibernating habits of the North American brown bear. His subject was watching the screen with glossy eyes and keenly interested, unaware that the subliminal messages were reinforcing all the conditioning of the last twenty-two hours.

As the film played Nelson was unaware that flash pictures of Lee Crane were mixed throughout; most doctored photos, in some cases an imposter had been used with his back toward the camera, but the hand reaching for the briefcase full of money wore an identical ring. In all cases, Harry had been conditioned to believe the lies, causing his mind to receive the flash messages readily as the hidden messages reinforced the need to stop Crane before he carried out his plans to kill him and steal Seaview. Harriman Nelson's true belief system was stashed away beneath layer after layer of brainwashing and conditioning, which left him unable to do or believe anything else but what he had been told and his own eyes were now seeing, even in flash form. There was no question left in his mind... Lee Crane was a traitor... to his country... to Seaview... and to the friendship they once had.

Wallace checked his watch noting the time at a little after 3:00 in the afternoon. He was surprised that Crane wasn't in the screening room yet and headed to the secondary control room to check in with Larson. When he opened the door he was greeted to the sound of Crane screaming defiantly at the camera.

“That's a load of crap, Larson. Harriman Nelson is NOT a traitor!”

“What's this?” Wallace asked shocked, as Larson issued the buzzer and then turned around and sighed.

“He has an incredible will,” Larson sighed, reaching to start the tape yet again.

“Let's begin again...” was heard as Wallace watched Lee pace the small room.

Wallace leaned over, adjusting the flashing lights. “Did you reinitiate with more gas?”

“Of course,” Larson sneered back. “He's had four doses and look at him,” he said disgustedly, motioning toward the screen as Crane continued to show far too much defiance.

“No amount of will could resist four doses,” Wallace noted. “Nelson is already in the screening room ready to go.”

“Then what's the problem with Crane if it's not his will alone?” Larson asked agitated and clearly worried as he had promised his employer the scheme would work.

Wallace reached up and rubbed his chin. “Obviously the gas is a less effective medium than the direct delivery of the dart.”

“Well that's just fine and dandy,” Larson said snidely, reaching over and issuing another punishment for Crane's continued defiance. “But he's supposed to be on that submarine tomorrow programmed to kill Nelson.”

“The answer is simple,” Wallace replied, their roles having oddly changed as Dr. Wallace had found extreme satisfaction in his programming of Nelson and lost any compunction he had before the conditioning started.

“Yes?” Larson urged, desperate for the plan to get back on track.

“We'll have to issue the drug directly.”

“By that, I hope you mean the dart gun,” Larson clarified, noting Crane's agitation and calculating that a physical altercation with the naval officer would not be wise.

“Of course I mean the dart gun. Relax Dr. Larson,” he continued with a small half-smile. “It's really quite easy. First, keep the noise and visual penalty going, don't let off. The buzzer will be deafening and add confusion, bring the lights up to full and turn on the flashers. Keep it going until I open the door and administer the dart,” Wallace said, reaching into his lab coat for the gun and loading another dart from the other pocket.

Larson nodded and brought all the controls up to full, issuing the blaring buzzer and the flashing lights without letting up as he watched Crane reach for his ears and stumble back against the wall.

* * * * *

Lee had found his defiance; he'd been drugged so many times that the yo-yo effect of defiance to compliancy was producing a very confusing ride. Even so, he refused to believe that Harriman Nelson was a traitor willing to sell him to the PR, or worse kill him outright just to rid himself of the unwanted captain. He was weak from lack of sleep and the punishments issued constantly throughout the night, but found that his outbursts of anger were fueling his ability to resist the drug. He was beginning to believe he could beat the gas when the buzzer began blaring, only this time it continued in a long agonizing blast. It was immediately followed by the lights brightening to full capacity followed by the infernal flashing lights which were hard to ignore even with his eyes squeezed shut. The noise and lights had him on the edge of consciousness when he heard the electronic bolts slide despite the blaring noise, and realized that someone was attempting to open the door. With every ounce of strength left he focused on the door, ready to rush it as soon as it opened. Suddenly the door swung open as Lee rushed toward the figure in a white lab coat. His vision was obscured by the flashing lights, but before he could reach his intended target he heard a whiff sound and felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. Immediately, he reached to pull the dart out, but his arms went limp as he fell to one knee, still trying to muster the strength to rush his assailant, while Dr. Wallace stood there calmly watching. The buzzing and lights ceased as Lee fell completely to the ground and rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling unable to move. Wallace leaned over smiling smugly and unceremoniously tugged the dart from his shoulder.

“Now Crane,” he said deviously as Lee focused on the scientist above him. “Let's begin again,” he finished evilly, repeating those hated words Lee had heard over and over again throughout the night. Wallace stood, hovering over him demonstrating his dominance then turned and left. The sound of the door closing behind him was followed by the dreadful sound of the electronic locks sliding back into place, sealing his fate to more torture until he finally broke and gave them what they wanted.

* * * * *

Wallace returned to the control room where Larson was busy resetting the tapes.

“I just hope this works, it took over 20 hours to program Nelson,” Larson noted.

“We'll just have to keep Crane here overnight and send Nelson home alone,” Wallace advised.

“How long do you think it will take to complete the process?” Larson asked as he watched Crane move back through the initial stages of the drug, exhibiting signs of extreme anxiety and angst.

“He still has residual drugs from the gas in his system on top of the dose I just administered via dart. I guarantee I can program him in time,” Wallace declared, “But just in case, I'll give Nelson another order to have Chief Sharkey meet him at 9 pm. It will only set us back twelve hours,” he suggested with a shrug to Larson's agreeing nod. “You just start the tapes while I dismiss Nelson. Together we'll have Crane ready to board Seaview tomorrow evening. By the time Seaview returns back to port, she'll be carrying one dead admiral, one confused Chief and one distraught captain ready to confess to his murder,” he finished.

Larson felt his confidence return. “Very well my friend, I see that we truly are in this together,” he noted, happy to see Wallace had left behind his earlier reservations and had apparently come to terms with the plan.

Wallace took once last look at the viewing screen and smiled as he watched Crane brush away imaginary bugs from his arms and legs, then turned to leave. The documentary would be ending soon, though Nelson would continue to sit staring at a blank screen until he was dismissed. Still, he needed to make sure the admiral was fully prepared for the part he would play in his own death.

* * * * *

Wallace entered the screening room as the final credits were rolling while Nelson sat glued to the screen, drinking in the final subliminal flash pictures offering damning evidence that Lee Crane would stop at nothing to get Seaview, including the foremost death of her creator, Harriman Nelson.

Harry's face was expressionless, his eyes taking in the false photos of Lee Crane in various acts of treason and betrayal. Indeed, several photos of Lee on Seaview's deck were doctored with the PR's flag painted on her conning tower. At this point, he was merely taking in the photos as facts that were filed away until the subliminal messages played at fast speed upon Seaview, reinforcing his programming into a new set of behavior patterns based upon the lies his brain had been trained to believe.

The final credits rolled and the soothing background music faded as Harry sat, mesmerized by the white, blank projection screen and seeking nothing. He was waiting for Dr. Wallace and would make no move until the scientist dismissed him.

“I trust you enjoyed the documentary,” Dr. Wallace said from the back of the room as he switched on the light.

Harry nodded but stayed in his seat... he hadn't been dismissed, while Wallace moved to stand in front of the projection screen.

“Tonight you will drive back to Santa Barbara and call Chief Sharkey. You will order him to report on Sunday at 2100 hours aboard Seaview.”

“2100 hours,” Harry repeated obediently.

“You will go home and get a good night's rest and report to Seaview on Sunday at 2300 hours,” he said, knowing that would isolate Sharkey just in case he needed to give Nelson any final orders just before boarding. “You will not answer your phone or take messages, you are to remain isolated from your crew or someone may tip Crane off.”

Harry's cheek twitched at Lee's name.

“You will not remember the experiment or your time here spent in preparation,” Wallace said calmly to Harry's affirming nod. “You will not remember anything you have learned about Captain Crane until you receive your messages aboard Seaview. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly clear,” Harry repeated.

“The experiment will begin when you receive your first message aboard Seaview, it will run until you either kill Lee Crane or the 'End Experiment' instruction is given. Only then will you remember the experiment. Remember Admiral Nelson, it's his life or your life... pure self-defense... and more importantly, the safety of your country is in your hands.”

Harry's face turned completely determined.

“Now clear your mind and think nothing of Lee Crane until you receive your first instructions aboard Seaview.”

Harry nodded, his eyes glossy and his mind completely at Wallace's will.

“Good. Now repeat your instructions.”

Harry went on to repeat the instructions in a word for word, exact account of Wallace's instructions without leaving out one detail, while the scientist smiled in satisfaction.

“Very good Admiral Nelson. A limousine it waiting to take you home,” he added as Harry stayed in place for the final words he needed to leave. “You are dismissed,” Wallace said as Harry rose and collected his service hat sitting beside him. He shook Dr. Wallace's hand in thanks and turned to leave without one thought for the fact that he and Lee had drove together.

Wallace chuckled softly, then threw his head back in full laughter at the sight of the great Admiral Harriman Nelson so obediently bent to his will. He drew back his laughter with a hand across his mouth and stared down the hallway in the direction of the second control room.

“Now it's your turn Crane,” he said, taking the full turn from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde, completely enthralled in the idea of breaking Seaview's captain and shaping his mind as he had Nelson's.

* * * * *

“You are Lee Benjamin Crane, Commander, United States Navy. You are the captain of the submarine, Seaview. You live at 1101 Seaside Road. You are an able seaman and a patriot. You would give your life for your country and your fellow servicemen. You can't be bought. If I were to offer you a million dollars to betray your country, you would turn it down without a second thought. Is this correct?”

“Yes,” Lee answered, his eyes glossy and his mind slowly giving in to Wallace and Larson's method. Something told him inside not to answer, not to play the game but after hours of hearing nothing he could disagree with his mind finally obeyed, and thus started the breaking down of the wall he had erected to keep him from ever being brainwashed again. Upon that answer it was like a single brick had exploded and he was seeing it hurl toward him like a 3D movie. He squinted his eyes closed tight. Fight Crane, he willed himself but was met instead by the buzzer jarring him awake once again.

To say he was tired or even exhausted didn't come close to what he was feeling at this moment, having gone thirty straight hours of the mind bending technique. He stared dutifully at the ceiling, working to keep his eyes open and barely coping with his present peril.

“How is he?” Larson asked upon entering the control room, having spent the last eight hours sleeping while Wallace continued the conditioning.

“He's ready to begin the second set of tapes,” Wallace said adding the flashing lights as Lee tried to throw an arm over his eyes, which was met by the buzzer.

“Good. Now we'll see if the dart does its job, this is where he wouldn't bend before,” Larson noted, having developed the sensory punishment technique as well as the flash messages.

Wallace nodded and changed tapes, then sat back to watch Crane's reaction.

“Admiral Nelson is a traitor...”

“No,” Lee breathed out, but instead of conviction, his voice was filled with sorrow for the possibility.

“Let's begin again,” she said as he clung to her voice like a security blanket. She had affirmed he was an honorable man. He trusted her because she was different than the last time he had been brainwashed. That man told him horrible things about himself... things that weren't true, things he would never allow his mind to accept ever again. Her voice, however, was calm and peaceful; only now she was breaking his heart, telling him things about the Admiral he didn't want to believe.

“Admiral Nelson is a traitor. He has been bought by money and power to do a terrible, dastardly deed.”

“You're wrong...” he tried to protest but was met with instant punishment.

“Let's begin again. Admiral Nelson is a traitor. He has been bought by money and power to do a terrible, dastardly deed. He pretends to be your friend, but now you are of no more use to him...”

“No,” he whimpered, “it can't be true... not the Admiral,” he said as a tear fell down his cheek at the possibility.

“Let's begin again. Admiral Nelson is a traitor. He has been bought by money and power to do a terrible, dastardly deed. He pretends to be your friend, but now you are of no more use to him. He has agreed to kill you. His bank account is now one million dollars richer because he has agreed to betray his country, kill you, and turn Seaview over to your country's enemies.”

Lee swallowed hard; he was so tired. If only he could sleep, it would all be so much clearer if he could sleep and work it out in the morning. His eyelids dropped and then popped open as the buzzer demanded his attention.

“Let's begin again...”

Chapter Five

Killing Machine

Wallace returned to the control room after taking his own rest session to check on their subject.

“How is he coming?”

“Completely compliant,” Larson informed his fellow scientist as he sat back satisfied. “I was just about to begin adding the new parameters to the experiment.”

“Excellent,” Wallace said, pulling up a chair and sitting next to his fellow cohort to watch Crane's final programming stage as Larson shoved in the next tape.

“Admiral Nelson is your enemy. You must kill him before he kills you. If you do not, Seaview will be lost to the enemy. Your country is in grave danger; you must kill him to stop him. It is your duty, to both yourself and your country. It is self-defense. You must stop him first. Your death is his first step in turning Seaview over to the enemy. No court in the land would convict you of self-defense. You must defend yourself by killing Nelson first. Do you agree?”

Lee swallowed, but his will had already been shaped to Wallace and Larson's design. He was now forty hours into the conditioning. Forty hours of sleep deprivation, punishment by enhanced sensory discipline in the form of the blaring buzzer and invasive lights. Forty hours of hearing her voice... all made possible by too many drugs in his system as his mind did the only thing it could do... bend to survive.

“I agree,” he said, his mind having already accepted their lies, this was the next plausible step that he must take. It was kill or be killed.

“Thank you Captain Crane. Let us repeat what you have learned,” the soothing voice said as Lee nodded obediently.

“Admiral Nelson is your enemy.”

“Admiral Nelson is my enemy,” he repeated in complete agreement.

“You must kill him before he kills you.”

“I must kill him before he kills me...”

* * * * *

Wallace sat back, satisfied with Crane's progress, as he checked his watch. “How much longer?”

“Another two hours,” Larson said, stretching a bit. He hadn't had to apply the buzzer and lights for some time now and was finally able to relax. “But we're pushing the nine o'clock deadline here,” Larson noted.

“Nelson already has instructions to arrive at Seaview at eleven o'clock. Will that suffice?”

“I'm sure it will,” Larson replied reaching for his coffee.

“Your Sensory Discipline worked marvelously, Charles,” Wallace offered appreciatively.

“As did your preparation drugs, Grant,” he returned as the two doled out compliments for one another's work, each contemplating the use of their half of the million dollars Dr. Gamma had promised them.

“As soon as he's ready, send him to the screening room. I'll change the film and get everything ready,” Wallace said, rising and patting Larson's shoulder on the way out, as the two scientists suddenly developed an evil kinship.

Larson nodded and then leaned forward listening to Crane recite his duty to kill Nelson, save Seaview and protect his country.

* * * * *

Lee followed Dr. Larson as he escorted him to the screening room. He was no longer wearing his uniform and was now dressed in dark slacks and a dark pullover sweater. He moved along with determination, with no hint of exhaustion even though he had now gone over 48 hours without sleep. He was currently operating on a dose of stimulants administered by Dr. Larson for the purpose of keeping him awake and sharp. It was only a precaution for the hour and half drive Crane would make as he drove directly to the Nelson Institute, for he had instructions not to sleep until Nelson was dead or the 'Experiment End' message was received.

“Have a seat Captain Crane,” Dr. Larson said sweeping a hand toward the chair he wanted Lee to take. “Now, I have a fascinating documentary for you watch,” he instructed pleasantly before adding a final instruction. “You will stay here and watch the film and not move until I dismiss you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Dr. Larson,” Lee replied, his mind in a highly suggestive state.

Larson nodded his approval, not expecting anything less from his subject and walked with authority to join Wallace in the projection room. Wallace began the film as their subject watched the screen intently while flash images of Nelson and his betrayal played too fast for the conscious mind to see, but not missed by his brain which registered and noted every single picture, reinforcing the last 48 hours of programming. Meanwhile Crane watched the documentary on the life cycle of the hermit crab with all the fascination Larson had suggested.

“He looks ready,” Wallace noted.

“He's absolutely ready, a killing machine at this point. He won't rest until Nelson is dead... literally,” Larson added with a smile recalling his exact programming: You will not rest until Nelson is dead and justice has been rendered in the matter.

“Will the stimulants hold out? He's been under our care for the last two days, not to mention at least fifteen hours before he arrived here,” Wallace asked, worried Crane's physical body would give out before he fulfilled his mission.

“He's determined and he'll stop at nothing until Nelson is dead,” Larson assured him as the film played on.

“Are you sure the programming can't be traced back to us?” Wallace asked, not as nervous as when they first started two days ago, but still curious.

“They have been programmed to only remember the original parameters of the experiment. If by some miracle Nelson survives, that is all either he or Crane will remember even after the Experiment End instruction has been rendered.” Larson chuckled. “But I expect nothing less than a dead admiral when Seaview docks. Crane will be terribly distraught, based upon his demonstrated loyalty to Nelson. He'll lose his credibility with the Navy as well as his command of Seaview, and very likely face a Court Martial as the tapes we produce at his hearing will show no such instructions for violence.”

“Yes, and the fact that preparations have been made to remove all the weapons on board will add to the charge of pre-meditated murder when he arrives with a weapon,” Wallace chimed in.

“It will be perfect. Chief Sharkey will be a witness to Crane's actions...”

“A killing machine you said?” Wallace said chuckling at their self-perceived genius.

“Absolutely!” Larson laughed. “Everyone will believe that Crane used the opportunity presented by the experiment to kill Nelson.”

Wallace sighed in satisfaction. “This was far more exhilarating than I anticipated. Perhaps I will stay on with the project after all.”

“I would welcome that Grant, Dr. Gamma will surely have more work for us and the government will fully fund us to continue studying the need to counter subliminal influence. It's a win-win situation.”

The film came to a close as the final credits rolled in the screening room while Lee sat staring at the screen.

“Time to give Crane his final instructions,” Larson announced looking at his watch. “We barely made it. He should arrive on Seaview shortly after Nelson at eleven o'clock tonight.”

Wallace removed the film from the projector still soaking in self-satisfaction, while Larson headed for the screening room, ready to issue Crane's final instructions to ensure Harriman Nelson's death.

* * * * *

Chief Sharkey arrived aboard the Boat at 2100 hours, just as the Admiral ordered. He wasn't concerned when he found the Control Room absent of all personnel; he was only expecting the Admiral and Captain Crane. They were going to test the new auditory response system by issuing a few select commands to Seaview. It would only take a few hours, and the tests would be completed in port.

Sharkey smiled at the thought of the new system that would replace the customary klaxons. “Man oh man, if her sexy voice didn't get the sailor's attention nothing would!” he jested while silently wondering what the woman looked like who belonged to the voice. He shook his head and headed to the crew's quarters carrying a case. On the way to the CQ his face took on an inexplicable blank stare as he turned and headed a different direction. He moved without thought in an almost trance-like state, until he reached the Circuitry Room. He entered, depositing his case on top of another piece of equipment. The Automatic Navigator had already been installed upon Seaview and was wired directly to the circuitry. Obediently he selected the first tape and loaded it into the AutoNav Super computer, then tested it by pushing the play button. He was met by a strange squeal, like an insect buzzing close to his ears but didn't even flinch at the sound. Immediately his mind registered the message even though it played in fast motion producing the insect sound, but he nodded in complete understanding.

“Welcome Chief Sharkey. Admiral Nelson will arrive shortly. Proceed to the Crew's Quarters and wait for him there.”

Sharkey turned to leave, as the AutoNav Super computer monitored the deck hatch awaiting Admiral Nelson's arrival. He walked along like a zombie, obeying without question and having already been programmed to “forget” his participation until the “Experiment End” instruction was given. All further instructions would be given once Nelson and Crane arrived; he would ignore all instructions that were not directed to him by name.

He entered the dark CQ and walked straight for an empty bunk, lying down and folding his hands across his stomach. He closed his eyes and awaited Nelson or further instructions from the sexy female voice... whichever came first.

* * * * *

Lee donned his black over-coat, tying the belt at the waist. He shook Dr. Larson's hand numbly and then left the laboratory complex fully programmed with new information about Harriman Nelson and the over-riding powerful urge to kill Nelson before he killed him. As he drove north to Santa Barbara he was oddly at peace, even with the task he knew he must complete. He drove the dark sedan, issued from the NIMR motor pool with complete control, breaking no traffic laws and careful not to draw attention to himself as he had been told in his final instructions. The last two days held no memories for him; the buzzer, the lights, the taped voice that shaped his mind, the drugs or the two scientists... none of it was at his disposal. All he knew was that he was the last obstacle to Nelson's plan to turn Seaview over to the enemy.

Nelson would stop at nothing to kill him, but not if he struck first. He happened to know that Nelson would be aboard Seaview tonight, no doubt readying his plot to give Seaview over to a foreign power. It would be the perfect time to end Nelson and his terrible deed as Seaview was locked down. It would be him and Nelson... no one else. He could almost feel the heat of his gun holstered in his shoulder harness, it was calling him to... begging him to use the weapon on Nelson. If he failed... if Nelson killed him first, then Seaview would be lost. Self-defense; pure and simple. There was no court in the land that would convict him. His resolve didn't need enhancing, he was already one hundred percent sold on the idea that to save his own life would be to save Seaview. Besides, Nelson didn't just plan on killing him; he was planning on torturing him in a slow death. The means by which the bastard planned on killing him was monstrous, a man like that didn't deserve to live.

He continued to repeat his mantra, as the hour and half passed quickly. Before he knew it, he was passing security at the gate. He parked his car and quickly lost himself in the shadows of the dark night. It was after 2300 and he didn't want anyone to warn Nelson he was coming, so he quickly slipped into the shadows and stealthily made his way to the sub pen. He would be free of Nelson's threat only when Nelson was dead. “Kill Harriman Nelson” began to throb in his head, the closer he got to the submarine.

Even with his intent growing exponentially within him, he managed to stay calm; by-passing the sentries to enter the Boat and fulfill his only desire in life... kill Nelson.

Chapter Six

The Hunt

Harry dropped to the deck of Seaview's Control Room and immediately noticed an empty submarine.

“Where the devil is everyone?” he muttered, extremely irritated that the Control Room wasn't manned when they were scheduled to shove off within the hour. He moved to the mic and grabbed it, his irritation in full gear as he called for the Officer of the Deck. Some heads are going to roll on this one! he thought sourly. His hail was met by silence as he double-clicked to call the Missile Room demanding a reply, but his hail was interrupted by a strange squealing buzz. He turned sharply, looking up toward the source of the sound.

“Welcome Admiral Nelson. The experiment has begun. Do not enact the new parameters until Crane is aboard.”

He ignored the buzzing and tried hailing the engine room, but was interrupted by the sound of the deck hatch slamming shut up above. He yelled upwards, but received no answer. Irritated he grabbed a rung and climbed up the ladder finding a hatch dogged from the outside. Angrily he yelled for whoever closed the hatch to open it, but was met by silence.

The eerie silence of the Boat and the obvious manipulation by some unknown element demanded an answer. He climbed down to the Control Room when he heard the strange squeal again, almost like an insect buzzing in his ears.

“Admiral Nelson, be ready to defend yourself. Crane is coming to kill you.”

The unknown buzzing sound should have set off alarms in him, but instead he ignored it and headed straight for the radio shack. He flipped the radio on and tried to hail the Communication Center but found a completely dead radio. Frustrated, he flipped the switch off and headed to find his crew, but stopped upon hearing the strange squeal yet again.

“Admiral Nelson, there is someone else on the boat.”

The strange noise was obviously proof that someone else was on Seaview, so he headed to the nearest mic and demanded a reply.

“Alright, who is it? Who is it? Answer me!”

There was no reply so he hung up angrily and headed for the Crew's Quarters ready to rouse some lazy sailors from their bunks. He threw open the door barking orders for everyone to hit the deck but was met by an empty room. His eyes moved down the row of bunks until he spotted a form on a lower bunk.

“Who's that?” he wondered out loud as the sleeping crewman roused.

“Chief Sharkey, what the devil are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you as ordered, Admiral,” he replied, rising from the bunk and adjusting his tie.

Harry blew a disgusted breath out. “I gave no such order,” he said, agitated at yet another strange turn since he boarded the sub.

“I beg your pardon, Sir, but you sure did,” Sharkey said in light humor. “You told me to report at 2100 hours and I've been waiting now for two hours,” he said referring to his watch as Harry shed his service jacket.

Harry grunted, not convinced he gave any such order and inquired about the crew.

“They're on shore leave as ordered, Sir,” Sharkey answered, completely unaware that the Admiral remembered none of these orders.

“All of them?” Harry asked.

“Yes Sir, that's uh... what you ordered isn't it, Sir?” Sharkey asked, walking to the sink to wash up.

Harry stood bewildered, remembering no such thing, but covered up his confusion by quickly agreeing with Sharkey. Something was up, but he needed to know what before he admitted that he didn't remember any of these so-called orders.

Blast it! If I had given the crew shore leave I would have remembered! he thought silently.

Another high-pitched squeal caused Harry's eyes to drift up to the speaker, but Sharkey kept washing his hands, apparently unaware of the sound, or at the very least, not concerned by the anomaly one bit.

“Admiral Nelson, Crane will be arriving soon. You must prepare to defend yourself. You must kill him before he kills you.”

“So everyone else is on shore leave,” Harry clarified, pulling off his tie and loosening his top button, “except you Chief?”

“Yes Sir, everyone except Captain Crane,” Sharkey clarified, reaching for the towel.

“Crane,” Harry repeated in barely hidden disdain. “Where is Captain Crane?” he asked, knowing that Lee had sold out to the enemy. He had just been informed that Crane took a million-dollar payout to kill him and deliver Seaview to the PR, he’d seen the bank statement himself.

“I don't know Sir,” Sharkey replied, completely unaware of Harry's concerns. Concerns that seemed to escalate as Harry pressed for Lee's whereabouts to Sharkey's shrugged shoulders.

“Alright, give me your gun,” Harry ordered, holding out his hand and waiting for Sharkey to comply.

Sharkey tried to explain that he didn't have a gun, and when the Admiral demanded the small arms locker key he couldn't get a word in edgewise, so he handed over the key and watched as the Admiral marched over and opened the locker.

“Where are the weapons?” Harry demanded, staring at an empty locker. This is a United States Naval Reserve vessel, where are the blasted weapons? he fumed inwardly.

“That's what I've been trying to tell you, Sir,” a confused Sharkey explained. “You ordered all weapons removed from the Boat.”

Harry vehemently denied giving any such order as Sharkey stood there baffled by the Admiral's behavior, especially his agitation that increased significantly when he mentioned the Skipper. Suddenly the Admiral's eyes brightened in sudden realization.

“There will be guns in the Control Room arms locker, come with me,” Harry ordered, as Sharkey followed along in dismay.

* * * * *

Lee made his way on board, completely undetected by the sentries. His mind was focused on one thing: Kill Admiral Nelson before he kills me. He entered the empty Control Room surveying everything in a quick sweep of the eyes, spying the Admiral's service cap hanging on the Periscope Island rail. He honed in on the cap, picking it up and knowing that Nelson was aboard. He carried it with him as he climbed the spiral stairs, gripping it tightly and feeling his resolve heightened as if the cap were a focal point for his anger. Nelson was on board, but soon he would be dead. He climbed the stairs slowly with his pistol drawn... the hunt was on.

Lee searched the upper deck and then headed toward the companion way stairs, stopping when he heard steps approaching. He aimed his gun, waiting for Nelson to come into view but couldn't get a clear shot as he had Chief Sharkey with him. They rounded the corner, as Lee moved quietly down the ladder, trying to figure how Sharkey fit into Harry's plans. He hadn't considered Nelson was working with someone else; he'd have to find out. He only had proof that Nelson was a traitor and had no intention of killing an innocent man.

* * * * *

Sharkey followed the Admiral down the corridor, perplexed at his sudden paranoia of Captain Crane and the need for a gun. The Admiral was acting very strangely and he didn't know what to think of it.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked Sharkey who was obviously lolly-gagging around.

“That's what I'd like to know,” Sharkey said, trying to understand the Admiral's strange behavior. “I mean, suppose it is the Skipper, what do you need with a gun?” he asked in exasperation, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the Admiral would actually shoot the Skipper. Sharkey watched as he started to answer but looked up instead at the speaker wondering what was catching the Admiral's attention at the moment.

“Admiral Nelson, Captain Crane is aboard. He is armed.”

Harry stopped to listen and then continued. “Because I need one,” he answered. “Are you questioning my orders?”

“No Sir,” Sharkey replied, going all navy, though he was confused as heck just what was bothering the Admiral. Just then they heard a door closing.

“Crane,” the Admiral said, this time not hiding his disdain and distrust any longer. “Don't tell him where I am,” Harry ordered to Sharkey's bewildered agreement. “Report to me in the Control Room,” Harry ordered in a near whisper before heading off to arm himself.

Sharkey raised an eyebrow and set off looking for the Skipper shaking his head as he went. He opened and closed doors and hatches in his search, when he was suddenly ambushed by an intentional tripping, falling and landing under the stairway. When he got his bearings he was staring down the barrel of a service pistol.

“What are you doing on board?” Captain Crane demanded darkly, the pistol held menacingly, only an inch from his face.

Sharkey blew a breath of disbelief out. “Just following orders,” he replied, adding the Captain's strange behavior to the growing list of the Admiral's.

“Whose orders,” Lee demanded.

“Admiral Nelson's.”

“I thought so,” Crane replied, his eyes narrowing. “You're working for him, aren’t' you?”

Sharkey shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “I thought we all are, aren't we?” he asked.

Sharkey's face showed all his confusion at Captain Crane's next words.

“I'm not,” he said as Sharkey realized that the Skipper and the Admiral had had some major falling out, but what in the world could be so bad as to cause both men to want to draw a gun on the other? The Skipper went on to grill him on where his loyalties lay and practically accused him of siding with the enemy, then demanded to know where the Admiral was. Sharkey felt like he was caught in the middle of a bad dream; even if he didn't have direct orders from the Admiral himself, there's no way he could tell Captain Crane where he was while he was waving that gun around.

“You've already thrown in with him, haven't you?” Lee asked.

“Look Skipper, all I know is you're hunting the Admiral and you've got a gun. Why?” Sharkey asked strongly, getting straight to the point as the Skipper looked up at the speaker, just like the Admiral had earlier.

“Captain Crane, Admiral Nelson is going to kill you unless you kill him first.”

“I've got to find him and kill him. Believe me, I don't want to, but it's the only way,” he said with conviction.

“What are you talking about?” Sharkey asked shocked at Captain Crane's revelation.

“I've got to... before he kills me.”

Sharkey tried to stop him, but the Captain shoved him off and ran up the ladder, determined to find the Admiral and kill him.

Quickly Sharkey took an alternate route to the Control Room, where the Admiral had already discovered the small arms locker was empty there as well. Desperately Sharkey tried to convince the Admiral to try and force the deck hatch together, Harry seemed to respond until they heard Captain Crane's voice over the comm system.

“Admiral,” he called over and over until Harry responded.

“This is Crane; I know you can hear me. Are you afraid to answer?” he goaded as Sharkey watched the Admiral's cheek twitch while he grabbed for the mic. Sharkey tried to stop him from falling into the Captain's trap, but Harry tugged the mic away and answered.

“I hear you.”

“I've got a gun, the only one aboard and I'm going to kill you.”

“Where are you Lee?” Harry asked so he could end the threat once and for all, but the mic went silent.

“Sir, we've got to get you off this boat,” Sharkey pleaded, as the Admiral finally conceded. They started for the deck hatch, figuring they could force it open together when Harry heard the squeal once again.

“Admiral Nelson, you need a gun. The missile room has guns.”

Harry instantly reconsidered. “The missile room has guns,” he said in sudden realization, turning and running up the spiral staircase as Sharkey shook his head in dismay.

What is going on here? he thought, as he watched the Admiral leave in a hurry determined to arm himself.

* * * * *

Lee stalked Seaview's corridors, hunting like he was on an African Safari. He had goaded Nelson along, hoping to make him move from his hiding place and out into the open. He moved quietly along when he heard the sound of someone running up ahead of him. He caught sight of the Admiral entering through the companionway and followed. By the time he caught up with him, Nelson was at the bottom of the ladder. Lee tightened his grip as Harry looked up in surprise by his untimely appearance. Lee's gun was trained as a split second of indecision swept over him, that is, until he heard the squeal again.

“Captain Crane, you must kill Admiral Nelson before he kills you.”

Instantly Lee pulled the trigger, hitting the Admiral in the shoulder and then aiming for and shooting squarely at the annoying speaker and its infernal squeal. Lee's attention in taking out the speaker gave Harry the opportunity to get away as Lee refocused, realizing that the Admiral was still alive. There could be no mercy, the Admiral must die! He took aim again but Chief Sharkey came up from behind in an effort to stop him. They struggled only momentarily, before Lee pistol whipped him and took off looking for the Admiral to finish the job while Sharkey slid down the wall, dazed.

Lee was searching Seaview's corridors when he heard the oddity of a woman's voice over the comm system, advising them they were putting to sea. Lee looked toward the speaker perplexed when he felt the jolt of the engines engaging. He thought they were the only ones aboard and ran to the Control Room to see who had ordered Seaview's departure, but even as he ran he could feel Seaview leaving the dock. Had Nelson managed to get a skeleton crew aboard? he wondered rushing forward.

He expected to see a crew when he arrived in the Control Room, but found it empty. He walked around the deck with his weapon drawn, watching the stations all lit and operational as if they were fully manned. Then more instructions from the woman's voice filled the Control Room as Lee watched the Boat respond to the voice as Seaview dove to 90 feet. He didn't understand; if Seaview had been retrofitted by another super-computer he would have known!

“Captain Crane, Nelson must not escape on the Flying Sub.”

He slid down to sit on the periscope island, exhausted as his body pleaded for a rest, when it suddenly dawned on him that Nelson had installed the super-computer and was putting to sea to deliver Seaview to the People's Republic. Instantly he forgot his exhaustion and eyed the deck hatch in the Nose. Like a light bulb suddenly illuminating a room, he realized that Nelson could set Seaview for delivery and then get away on the Flying Sub to continue his traitorous acts, unknown by the government.

It was so obvious, why hadn't he thought of it before? Quickly, he ran to the hatch to rig a little surprise for the Admiral.

Chapter Seven

Lying in Wait

Harry woke up in sickbay with Sharkey putting the final touches on his bandages, the pain in his shoulder reminding him that he had passed out when the bullet was extracted without the aid of pain medication. He could feel the thrum of Seaview's engines and knew they were underway, which is why he was so irritated when Sharkey urged him again of his need to leave Seaview.

“We can't get off the Boat, we're at sea,” he replied in near exasperation, then moved to sit up. “It's Crane,” he declared vehemently. “He did it,” Harry finished, surmising that Lee was taking Seaview out to meet his PR contact.

“Boy oh boy, I must be going pyscho! What's going on around here?” Sharkey asked, still not believing he was witnessing this colossal melt-down in what he always considered to be a rock solid relationship between the Admiral and Crane.

“I don't know, he's trying to kill me,” Harry said, peering out the door to make sure Crane didn't sneak up on them and withholding the information he had discovered on Crane until he knew for sure Sharkey was on the up and up... he was acting really peculiar and seemed to be questioning him too much.

The sound of the woman's voice informing them that they were at ninety feet interrupted his thoughts as Harry shut the door and turned around wanting some answers.

“What is that woman's voice? Who is it?” Harry asked, frustrated at yet another surprise aboard the Boat.

“Nobody Sir, it's the new Automatic Warning System,” Sharkey replied matter of factly, then went on to explain that Harry had ordered it after Washington decided that a sexy woman's voice would get the men's attention better than klaxons and bells.

Harry rolled his eyes at the sexist remark, while silently doubting very much that he would ever substitute the bells and klaxons for a soft, calm voice that did little to express danger in any meaningful way; but still didn't let on that he supposedly gave this order as well. Meanwhile, the voice continued to advise them of their progress.

“I know!” Sharkey exclaimed. “We could get you off with the Flying Sub,” he finished with a smile for his brilliant idea.

“I'm going to settle with Crane first,” Harry declared, opening and closing drawers in the medicine cabinet, still searching for a gun, but Sharkey was adamant as he accidentally tugging his injured arm in his haste.

Sharkey realized his mistake right away, but continued his urging. “I'm sorry Sir, but I've got to get you ashore.”

Harry was momentarily caught off-guard by the pain and relented, nodding his head and following Sharkey to the door.

Sharkey led the way, still not understanding what was going on; all he knew was that the Admiral and the Skipper needed to be separated until they figured out what was wrong with the both of them!

* * * * *

Lee made the final touches on Flying Sub and then left to continue his hunt for the Admiral. It was either going to be by his bullet or by the little surprise he left in FS1, but either way he couldn't rest until he knew the Admiral was dead; not until justice had been rendered in the matter.

His search led him to an obvious place as he threw open the door to Nelson's cabin; it was obvious the Admiral wasn't there as he contemplated his next move.

“Captain Crane, wait for Nelson in his cabin.”

Lee decided this was as good a place to wait for the Admiral as anywhere; sooner or later Nelson would return here he reasoned, and took a seat in the Admiral's chair. Even sitting there, he couldn't rest so he aimed his gun at the door and awaited Nelson's arrival.

“Gentlemen, I have a warning for the Flying Sub cockpit. Please do not touch the controls,” the female voice warned. “You see; the controls have been rigged to explode upon contact. It is not possible to launch the Flying Sub at this time.”

Lee pounded the desk; it was obvious that Nelson had tried to escape on the Flying Sub only to be protected by Boat's new auditory warning system that meant that his ploy to blow up FS1 with Nelson aboard was foiled. Lee paced the deck in Harry's cabin intensely, deciding upon his next course of action and decided to pursue the hunt. He moved decidedly toward Harry's desk and retrieved his gun then headed resolutely for the door.

“Captain Crane, wait for Nelson in his cabin... he will come to you.”

Lee thought better of it and turned around to wait for Nelson to come to him.

* * * * *

Harry climbed out of the deck hatch cautiously, nursing his injured shoulder all the way up.

“Crane rigged that explosion to kill me,” he stated, the knowledge fueling his need to stop the bastard before he carried out his plans to kill him.

“Admiral, he must have heard the warning over the PA, he knows you're here... he'll be coming after you,” Sharkey explained, trying to get the Admiral to move from the Control Room, but his comment had a different effect.

“I know, that's why I have to be ready,” Harry replied, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated a plan to finish off Crane once and for all.

“I told you Sir, except for his, there are no other guns aboard this Boat!”

“I know where there's one,” Harry said calmly.

“Where?” Sharkey asked, dumbfounded.

“Chief Sharkey, the tape is about to expire. Proceed to the Circuitry Room at once.”

“Safe in my cabin,” Harry replied heading for the spiral stairs as Sharkey turned, suddenly unconcerned with where the Admiral was going and the fact that Crane was stalking him. Instead he walked with a blank stare on his face and headed straight for the Circuitry Room. His eyes were glossy, his mind empty as he had only one order to obey... change the tape.

* * * * *

Lee waited patiently for Nelson, not letting himself rest and keeping up relentless intensity that was quickly wearing his physical body down, still he wasn't allowed to rest... not until Nelson was dead and justice had been rendered in the matter... He thought he heard something in the hall and moved silently behind the door, he wanted Nelson to enter the cabin completely so he would have nowhere to escape. He crouched low behind the door with his weapon drawn, ready to gun down Admiral Nelson. He had no choice; it was either Nelson or him. He must kill Nelson.

He didn't have to wait long before the door opened, as Lee trained his gun, waiting for a clear shot when the Automatic Warning System gave him away.

“Gentlemen, our sensors indicate a loaded automatic weapon in the Admiral's cabin.”

Damn it! Lee cursed as Nelson turned tail and ran down the corridor with Lee in quick pursuit firing at his moving target. Nelson headed down into the Control Room as Sharkey returned, unaware that he had never left. The sound of gunfire brought him to his senses as Harry ran to the periscope island and activated the crash doors.

“Skipper!” Sharkey yelled trying to get in between him and Admiral, but Lee tossed him aside, lunging forward and taking one last shot at Nelson. His last sight was Nelson crumbling to the deck before the doors slammed shut, sealing them off.

Lee was a madman bent on only one thing, the destruction of Harriman Nelson. The Admiral was so close, just on the other side of the door, his intensity to kill driving him to pursue mercilessly. Suddenly he realized he could get to the Control Room another way. He had to know Nelson was dead; he couldn't rest until Nelson was dead... not until justice had been rendered in the matter. He ran up the spiral staircase taking the steps two at a time as Sharkey shook off the daze of being thrown to the ground and followed after him, tackling the Skipper as he sluggishly moved along.

“You killed him!” Sharkey yelled, pulling Lee from the ground and throwing him against the wall like a wet noodle, finding no resistance as he accused him again. “You killed him!” he repeated, then went on to accuse him bitterly for not finding another way to work things out, but all Lee heard was 'You killed him'.

Was it true? Was he finally free of Nelson?

“You shot him, and I hope they throw the book at you,” Sharkey snarled, still holding a fistful of Lee's shirt under his chin.

“I had to, don't you understand? It was self-defense,” Lee argued, repeating the words that had been programmed into him.

“He had nothing to defend himself with,” Sharkey countered.

“They can't convict me!” Lee replied, as the idea that Harry was dead began to sink in and his mind released his physical body at the news.

“They're sure going to try!” Sharkey barked back before demanding the gun which Lee still held limply in his hand.

Lee relented and then sunk into the wall, his body now succumbing to three days without sleep while he endured both physical and emotional torture.

“Chief,” he said, leaning heavily into the wall and trying desperately to remain standing. “I'm just so tired,” he admitted, but Sharkey felt no measure of concern as Lee allowed himself to be escorted to the Admiral's Cabin, which the Chief locked behind him.

Lee was so tired; as he walked he tried to console himself with the reasons for killing the Admiral, believing he had no choice and that no jury in the world could convict a man for self-defense. He still believed all the programmed lies within him concerning the Admiral but with his assignment complete he found himself too muddle-headed to think straight anymore. He sat down on the Admiral's bunk and quickly found himself reclining on his elbow.

* * * * *

Sharkey moved wearily down the spiral staircase, his emotional outburst depleting his energy levels. He knocked on the crash doors calling for the Admiral and knowing full well that Harry was still alive. He knocked again but the doors remained closed until he assured the Admiral that Crane was no longer a threat.

Harry eyed Sharkey's gun, trying to hold back his immediate need to hold it as Sharkey explained that he had tricked Crane into believing he was dead. Harry smiled, chuckling when he heard he was locked in his own cabin and nonchalantly reaching for the gun, which he desperately needed. It wasn't enough for Crane to be locked away, he needed to die.

Sharkey withdrew the gun from the Admiral's reach; his demeanor was all wrong and the way the two of them had been going at each other, there was no way he was going to hand the gun over to the Admiral. He stepped back, just out of Harry's reach and announced he was keeping the gun. When Harry took a step closer, Sharkey had no choice but to raise the gun on the Admiral.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, perplexed that Sharkey would dare defy his orders.

“I wish I knew, Sir, but until I do, I'm going to keep you and the Skipper apart,” Sharkey said almost apologizing for what he knew he had to do. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to lock you up too.”

Harry laughed. “What are you going to do, ride around in this submarine until you hit the China coast? Tell me something, can you turn this Boat around and head back to port?”

“No Sir,” Sharkey admitted, still holding the gun on the Admiral.

“Well I can, all I need to do is head to Engineering and by-pass the automatic controls. Now if you still insist on keeping me covered,” he said, referring to the gun Sharkey still held on him. “You can come along,” he finished then turned and walked away, knowing Sharkey wouldn't shoot him in the back.

Once in Engineering, Harry flipped a few switches and grabbed the tool he wanted as he got busy opening up several control panels, working one handed as his left arm was pretty useless. While he worked he made small talk, explaining to Sharkey that he didn't remember any of the orders he supposedly gave about the crew shore leave, removing the weapons and especially the new automatic warning system. All the while he talked; Sharkey was getting more comfortable subsequently lowering the gun slightly as they talked.

“All I can remember is that Crane was going to kill me unless I killed him first,” Harry admitted, his shoulder throbbing as he worked.

“I always thought you and the Skipper were the best of friends, now all of the sudden everything’s... out of control,” he said, finding the Admiral much more reasonable now that he was busy working on something else besides trying to find a gun to kill the Skipper.

“Control?” Harry repeated. “Now why does that ring a bell?” he thought out loud. “Control,” he repeated almost able to grasp something important... something he needed to know but was interrupted by the squeal once again.

“Admiral Nelson, you must kill Captain Crane before he kills you.”

Immediately, his countenance changed. He asked Sharkey for a tool to finish, even though he had already successfully changed the Boat's course by over-riding the automatic controls. Sharkey complied just as the course change was announced by the automatic warning system.

“Gentlemen, there has just been change of course due to an expert adjustment in the Engine Room; we are now headed back to homeport. Thank you.”

“I thought you said you weren't finished?” Sharkey asked handing the requested tool over to the Admiral.

“I'm not, I just have one more thing to do,” Harry lied, reaching for the tool and intentionally dropping it, and then rendering a karate chop to Sharkey's neck when he bent to pick it up. Sharkey went out like a light as Harry retrieved the gun and ran for the exit, sealing Sharkey in the Engine Room by dogging the hatch with a large wrench.

He finally had a gun and he knew exactly where Crane was... locked in his cabin. “I'm going to kill you before you kill me, Crane,” he promised darkly as he made his way to Officer's Country.

Chapter Eight

Kill Nelson

Lee was lying on the bunk, when he heard the announcement about the change of course.

Expert Adjustment, Lee thought, sitting up sharply and knowing there was only one person on board that could make such a change. Nelson's still alive, he realized as his programming re-initiated. He tried the door, but it was locked. He paced back and forth like a caged lion, needing to find a way to get to Nelson.

I have to kill Nelson, before he kills me, he repeated in his mind, looking for another option as he spotted the air vent grate. Without another thought he tore the vent off and climbed in, determined to find some sort of weapon. This time, I'm going to finish the job, he promised himself, scooting along and making his way toward Engineering when the warning system informed him that there was a second person in the air ducts.

Nelson, Lee thought hatefully, his need to kill the Admiral obsessive and out of control. He climbed out at the next vent and searched for a way to end Nelson. He found a gas used for maintenance but deadly to humans and without a second thought to his barbaric act, tossed it into the vent and walked away. There was no remorse, no remembrance for his one-time friend as he had become the killing machine Larson laughed about.

He walked smugly along in self-assurance that he had finally killed Nelson when the warning system advised him that a service hatch had been left open. Instantly the urgency rekindled; he had just left Sharkey locked in Engineering so he knew it had to be the Admiral. Quickly he turned on his heels and ran straight for the stores locker, where the automatic warning system had fortuitously informed him of the location of the open hatch. As he ran, he realized that the Admiral could be anywhere by now. Angrily he reached for the nearest mic, hailing the Admiral over and over, desperate to complete his programmed driven task to kill Harriman Nelson.

“Admiral!” he called until he heard the shaky, pained voice of Nelson. He had no concern whatsoever for the Admiral's obvious distress, no concern for the lethal gas he had been exposed to, or the fact that he was responsible for the bullet hole in his shoulder. All he could think of was killing Nelson.

“I'll find you if I have to search the whole Boat,” Lee promised darkly, the killing machine fully awake now. It was no longer a mission of self-defense as his programming had taken the next step, pure obsession with Nelson's demise. There would be no rest until Nelson was dead.

“Don't bother,” he heard Nelson reply. “You'll find me in the Control Room,” he declared, just as determined to put an end to Crane and tired of all the running. He was ready to have the showdown and end Lee’s life, he might not have a gun, but he had an ax; that would be enough.

Lee searched for another weapon, something deadly. He searched through storage units and cabinets, not finding anything until he came across something extremely deadly... a spear gun.

* * * * *

Harry sat on the periscope island recovering from the exposure to the gas, his shoulder throbbing and a fever peaking as sweat covered his brow.

“I'm meeting you in the Control Room,” he repeated to no one but himself as he psyched himself up for the coming battle with Crane. He was armed with an ax and by everything in him, Crane was going to feel the sharp end of it. But the minute he said “control” something clicked once again. There was something about that word that was important... something he needed to remember.

The pain in his shoulder ratcheted up and with it an unexpected clearing of his mind as he began to piece things together. Though he didn't realize it, the pain had helped his mind to break free of some of the programming, just as it had when Lee had been brainwashed three years ago.

Control, he contemplated finally finding the answer they needed. He didn't have all the answers, but enough to know that he didn't really want to kill Lee Crane, he couldn't kill Lee, nor could he believe that Lee would willingly do the same to him. No, this was the only answer that made sense, he thought.

He reached for the mic, almost deliriously happy as he sought to end this terrible misfortunate mistake.

“Lee, Lee,” he called, his voice cracking as he recovered from the gas and a gunshot wound. “Listen to me, every scientific experiment must have one element that is not affected. That element is called the 'control',” he stated chuckling as it became more and more clear. “Don't you see? We're the subjects, you and I, and Chief Sharkey is the control. It's an experiment! It's an experiment... somehow it went all wrong,” Harry pleaded to the silent comm system as Lee was apparently ignoring him.

“It was some sort of experiment with subliminal instructions to kill one another,” he said, as certain elements of the original parameters began to return to him, even though he wasn't fully aware of the deviant path it had taken at the hands of Larson and Watson. He continued to try and reach Lee, but it was apparent that he was unreachable. Sorrowfully, he bent down and picked up the ax, it was his only defense at this point.

Harry realized that he needed to leave the Control Room before Lee arrived and moved shakily along to hopefully avoid a confrontation with the trained espionage agent. He was physically compromised, sick and injured as he stumbled aft trying to find a place where Lee wouldn't find him. He didn't want to kill Lee even in self-defense he realized, as the real Harriman Nelson began to surface past the programming and subliminal messages that had him searching for a gun the entire time he'd been aboard and for the sole purpose of killing his best friend. How could an experiment go so wrong? he wondered as he made his way down a corridor looking for a suitable place to hide until he could figure out how to reach Lee.

* * * * *

Sharkey was devastated; the Skipper told him that the Admiral was dead. He slid down the hatch shedding tears for his friend, despite their differences in rank. He didn't understand any of this, he thought sorrowfully, rubbing the back of his neck. It had been a rough night, he'd been pistol whipped earlier, on top of the Admiral’s karate chop and both blows were taking their tolls on him. Then he heard the Admiral's voice and rejoiced at the knowledge that he was still alive as he listened to him explain to Captain Crane about experiments and the control. Suddenly, the cob webs of his brain cleared as Sharkey realized that he was the 'control'.

“Tapes, I've got to change the tapes,” he realized frantically, taking hold of the hatch and twisting and turning in a determined effort to shake the dog free from the other end. He worked relentlessly until he felt it give, and then worked harder until he felt the dog drop from the hatch and the wheel turn freely.

Quickly he ran for the Circuitry Room to find the “End Experiment” tape.

* * * * *

Lee stalked the corridors of Seaview carrying a deadly spear gun, fully loaded and pneumatically charged to issue a lethal blow. He moved like a jungle cat on the prowl, his desire to kill Nelson overriding everything else as the real Lee Crane was lost under too many layers of brainwashing and subliminal reinforcements. He knew Nelson would avoid mid-ship as the air was still foul there and worked methodically in the direction he thought the Admiral would take. He didn't believe for a moment he had stayed in the Control Room, and moved along as the shadows of an empty sub fell over him, as if casting dreadful sorrow for his intent against Seaview's creator.

Lee caught sight of movement up ahead and knew he Nelson cornered; he was going to kill Harriman Nelson and this time there would be no escape.

He turned the wheel and entered the pressure hatch where the moon pool was located and spotted Nelson.

“Admiral,” he said, leveling the spear gun Harry's way.

“Didn't you hear me on the PA?” Harry asked, perplexed that Lee was still after him and desperately trying to avoid any more violence. “We got caught up in our own experiment,” Harry tried to explain, but Lee's eyes were dark as he leveled the deadly weapon Harry's way.

“Try to think about it, Lee,” he urged, still holding onto the ax, but trying not to be aggressive with it. “Think about it, you can remember... I did!”

Lee watched as Harry tried to trick him, he was holding an ax and there was no way he was going to lower his defenses. Nelson was probably going to hack him into pieces and dump him in the moon pool to be fodder for the depths. Harry moved about the moon pool, telling something about an experiment, but all he could really hear was his mantra: Kill Nelson before he kills me. Finally he got a clear shot and fired the spear gun as Harry ducked, with the spear whizzing by and barely missing him hitting the nearby cabinet instead.

Kill Nelson, before he kills me!

Lee had only one spear in the gun, so he turned it on its end to use as a club, advancing on the obviously injured Nelson and showing no mercy as he struck violently while the Admiral used the ax to counter the attack. He struck again and again, until Nelson was able to counter the attack and knock the spear gun out of his hands. They ended up on the floor in a struggle with Nelson trying to wrestle him.

“Lee, remember the tapes! Try to remember the tapes!” Harry urged, as the tapes were part of the original experiment parameters, the only thing Harry was to remember should he survive, but Lee hadn't been injured, there was no pain to break through his programming as he fought tenaciously to kill Harry with his bare hands.

Harry picked up the ax again in self-defense as Lee threw the heavy steal hook dangling from the safety rope at him, missing him by inches. Lee lunged at Harry, who was holding on to the ax with one hand, his left arm useless as a result of the bullet Lee had put there, but the Killing Machine kept coming. Viciously he delivered a deep punch into Harry's side as the Admiral fell, weakened by the relentless attack. Lee threw himself upon Harry using the only weapon he had left, his bare hands and trying to choke the life out of him.

Kill Nelson before he kills me, played over and over in his head like a broken record, repeating itself until it was a much a part of him as breathing. Harry used all the strength he had to kick Lee backwards then raised himself by the hoist, hanging over the moon pool. Lee attacked again, he couldn't rest until Nelson was dead and justice had been rendered, there were no other options, Nelson must die. He wrestled Harry into the moon pool where the only thing separating the Admiral from the pressures of the deep was a precarious hold with his injured arm holding onto the rope, and a hand on the moon pool’s edge.

Lee's resolve was unshakeable as he stood over Harry and unmercifully tried to stamp his hold from the edge of the pool. He couldn't rest until Nelson was dead. Justice must prevail. It was Nelson or him. Seaview was depending on him. The PR wouldn't take her, not when he was still alive... Kill Nelson before he kills me...”

“The Experiment is over; you will ignore all past subliminal impressions.”

Her voice penetrated his violent mantra, every reason for killing Harry dissolved in an instant as Lee's head turned sharply toward the speaker.

“The Experiment is over. Thank you,” the automated warning system declared as all of Lee's senses returned at once.

Devastated he looked down at Harry and reached a helping hand toward him. My God, what was I trying to do? he asked inwardly, keenly aware of every action he had made since arriving on the Boat.

“Admiral, are you alright?” he asked swallowing hard as he helped Harry from his near death in the moon pool.

He pulled him out lying Harry on the pressure hatch deck, shivering from the cold as Lee's hands trembled at the sudden loss of adrenalin.

“Admiral?” he called again, not knowing if Harry would ever speak to him again.

Harry caught his breath and looked up at Lee's eyes, full of sorrow and remorse.

“It's alright Lad, it was the experiment,” he said trying to reassure Lee. “Something just went wrong,” he explained, before his head dropped to one side and he finally passed out, with no more energy to spare.

Lee reached for Harry's neck to check his pulse, finding a strong one and sunk beside him, sitting on the grating as the exhaustion finally caught up with him. He moved his hand over Harry's chest, feeling the rise and fall beneath his palm as his head dipped in shame for what he almost accomplished in his relentless pursuit to kill his best friend.

Tears fell openly, he was too tired to hold them back and he didn't give a damn who saw them. How could he have allowed himself to be manipulated like this... how could a simple subliminal experiment cause him to turn into a killing machine? He didn't have any answers as he wiped the back of his hand across his face, then moved to the cabinet to retrieve a blanket. He covered Harry and then walked shakily to the mic hanging on the wall, swallowing hard before clicking.

“Uh... Sharkey this is Crane,” he said, in an uncharacteristically uneven voice. “I need your help in the Pressure Hatch... it's the Admiral...” he said, before his knees buckled and he slid down the wall, still conscious but unable to continue. He swallowed again while watching Harry a few feet away, still unconscious... suffering because of him.

It felt like forever, but it only took a few minutes for Sharkey to come bursting in.

“Skipper!” he exclaimed and then noticed the Admiral. “Is he...?”

“No,” Lee said, his voice almost cracking. “He's alive, but I need your help getting him to sickbay,” he continued, using the wall to make his way up on his feet.

“Sir, you... you don't look so good,” Sharkey said as Lee waved off his concern and moved toward Harry.

“Never mind that, just help me,” he said as the two each took an arm and gently raised Harry to his feet.

* * * * *

Harry came to on the way to sickbay and quickly directed them to change course for his cabin.

“All I need is a hot shower and a sling,” he insisted. “And besides, we're only four hours from port,” he noted as Lee dipped his head, Four hours plus the two before they set sail... six hours of relentlessly trying to kill Harry.

Harry seemed to read his mind and admonished him gently. “Lee, it was an experiment that went wrong, that's all.”

Lee nodded and smiled weakly. “I'll meet you in the Control Room, Sir. I want to check our progress.”

“Fine, Lee. I'll be there shortly,” he agreed, having already sent Sharkey on to verify their current position.

Lee headed back to the Control Room terribly tired, and completely unaware that he had been kept awake nearly three days in sleep deprivation techniques, but he couldn't rest yet... something was left undone. His body wouldn't release him... not until he finished the job.

Chapter Nine

Something Left Undone

“How are you doing, Sharkey?” Lee said, rounding the stairs and remembering he had dealt some pretty hard blows to the COB, including a pistol whip.

“I'm okay, Skipper,” he replied back, smiling like a Cheshire cat and just glad that everything was resolved; he really did believe he was going psycho for a while.

“I'm sorry about...” Lee started but Sharkey raised a hand and shook his head.

“No apologies necessary, Skipper, even I didn't know I was changing the tapes,” Sharkey said, still grinning ear to ear.

“Thanks Sharkey,” Lee replied with a soft smile, before turning his attention to the chart table. “What's our present position?” he asked.

“Here Sir,” Sharkey replied, pointing to the chart and grateful to get back to boat business.

Lee picked up the protractor and the straight-edge and mentally estimated their travel home at standard speed.

“Very well; we should be arriving in Santa Barbara in a little over four hours,” he said.

“Aye Sir, that's what I figured too,” Sharkey replied, amazed that the Skipper could calculate in his head when he had to use the slide rule.

“What about Sonar?”

“All clear, Sir. The automatic warning system is still operational,” he replied.

“I guess we better keep it that way with our limited crew,” Lee agreed. “Although that voice...”

“Pretty sexy, huh Sir?” Sharkey chimed in, barely keeping from a jestful elbow bump.

Lee shook his head in disagreement. “More irritating I'd say,” he mentioned casually to Sharkey's raised eyebrow.

About that time, Harry descended the stairs looking much refreshed, showered and in a fresh uniform.

“How's that shoulder, Sir?” Sharkey greeted, worried about his field treatment.

“It's fine Sharkey, I imagine Jamieson will be adding antibiotics to my near future, but you did a good job,” he offered in affirmation.

Lee tried to smile, but the memory of pulling the trigger was still too fresh. Harry gave him a “We've been through this before” look and he quickly relented, smiling broader.

“Now Sir,” Sharkey said, holding up a tan triangle. “Time to fix you up with a sling.”

Harry chuckled. “Very well, Chief, I think I'm ready for it,” he conceded, having already taken a hefty dose of aspirin in his cabin. Sharkey pinned the sling in place and stepped back, satisfied with his work.

“Good job, Chief,” Lee complimented.

Sharkey nodded, it was so good to see the Admiral and the Skipper together again, acting like normal.

“How about I make us some coffee, Sirs?”

“I think that would be an exceptional idea, Francis,” Harry said, using his first name in familiarity and to personalize his appreciation for all he tried to do while under the influence of the experiment.

Lee looked down at the Chart Table, tapping the eraser end of his pencil repeatedly in deep thought.

“Something bothering you, Lee?” Harry probed.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in a small shrug, offering a weak smile as he spoke. “I just don't understand why you and Sharkey remembered the experiment and I didn't,” he explained. “I was like some... killing machine,” he explained. “No remorse, I just I had to kill you. Why did you and Sharkey break out enough to remember the experiment while I remained locked into it until the final tape was played?”

“I have an idea about that,” Harry said, leaning against the Chart Table comfortably. “Do you remember when you began breaking out of your conditioning after the PR brainwashed you?”

Lee shook his head in the negative. “Not really, it was a bit of blur in sickbay.”

“Well I do,” Harry declared. “You were fighting hard and Jamie explained that the shock of the bullet and the pain it induced allowed your brain to finally break free.”

Lee nodded, all that had been explained to him in his debriefing.

“Apparently, my bullet wound and the episode with the gas provided the same catalyst for my break-through and right before I locked Sharkey in Engineering, I decked him pretty hard.”

“I knocked him around a bit myself,” he admitted to Sharkey's raised hand of “that's alright” as he prepared the coffee at the Nose service cart.

“Exactly, apparently pain is an effective counter agent in both of the methods used.”

Lee sighed. “It makes sense, Sir. But if I had known I would have taken a tumble down the ladder or something to injure myself,” he answered trying to hide his remorse, but smiling to keep the mood light. “And to think I volunteered for this,” Lee added.

“All three of us did,” Harry replied, turning toward the Chart Table as Sharkey served the coffee. “The Government was trying to test the effects of subliminal messages on men under life or death stress. They knew it would have an amnesiac effect on us, but it wasn't supposed to affect Sharkey,” he said with a small chuckle as each of them was coming to terms with the recent events.

“Well Sir, I still can't figure it out. I mean there I was changing tapes and I don't even remember doing it,” Sharkey marveled.

Harry explained that the tapes contained voice transmissions. “A voice speeded up so fast that only our subconscious minds got the message.”

“And that same voice,” Lee interjected. “Sometimes we heard it at normal speed.”

“That was the automatic warning system, without it... one of us would have been dead by now,” Harry replied, grateful that they had the insight to install the system before performing the experiment.

“Well Sir, like they always warned me,” Sharkey said, smiling brightly. “Never volunteer,” he finished jovially raising his mug to the wise advice and to Harry's “Amen!” as Lee chuckled with them.

The light moment passed as Lee turned back to the Chart Table, suddenly remembering the gas he had discharged.

“All stop,” he ordered as Harry turned in question.

“I'd feel better if we surfaced and scrubbed the air from the Boat,” he explained.

“We can make the changes from here, now that I over-rode the original automatic settings,” Harry explained as Lee followed him to the master computer and keyed in his code. In a few key strokes Seaview was responding to the All Stop order.”

“Gentlemen, the boat has changed speed. We are now at All Stop, Trim satisfactory,” the automatic warning system announced.

“Boy I'd sure like to get a look at the dame, uh pardon me, the woman who belongs to that voice,” Sharkey chimed in.

“Well I could care less,” Lee shot back a bit less amused than Sharkey. “If you don't mind, Sharkey, I prefer the klaxons for surfacing,” Lee said, shooting a small half-smile the Chief's way.

“You got it, Skipper,” Sharkey said, trotting to the periscope island to press the klaxon button as Lee turned to the computer and typed in his command.

“Sonar all clear,” Harry said, checking topside on the green screen and filling in for their lack of personnel.

“Alright Seaman Computer,” Lee joked as he typed. “Blow all ballast, full elevation on the planes, ten degrees up bubble,” with that the computer responded as the automatic warning system began her announcement only to be drowned out by Sharkey's intentional first press of the klaxon button.

“Gentlemen...”

Lee had moved behind the helm, monitoring their progress when the first klaxon rang. Immediately, Lee gripped the helmsman chair in front of him, his knuckles turning white as he held on tenaciously. On the second klaxon ring, he dropped to one knee as he flashed back to the small, all white room with the buzzer assaulting him every time his eyelids dropped or he showed any measure of defiance. On the third klaxon, the lights pierced his eyelids, even though he was now squeezing them tight.

“Admiral!” Sharkey said, suddenly realizing the Skipper was in distress as Harry turned sharply toward his voice. His eyes caught Lee immediately and ran from the sonar station to help him.

“Lee,” he called in obvious concern, placing a hand on his back.

Lee shirked away, shaking and still experiencing the conditioning in a flash back.

“Lee!”

Harry's call finally penetrated as Lee's flash back faded, but leaving him with the knowledge that there was more to remember, he couldn't rest until he remembered.

“I have to know,” Lee finally whispered out.

“Know what Lee?” Harry asked, completely dumbfounded by Lee's condition.

“I have to know!” he yelled, pushing Harry out of his way and running past Sharkey up the spiral staircase.

“What's happening?” Sharkey asked with his hands out in front of him as Seaview settled to the surface.

“I don't know Sharkey, but it's not good. After him!” Harry replied, concerned at what could possibly be driving Lee now that the experiment had ended.

* * * * *

Lee ran down the corridor until he found a locker that he had rummaged through earlier in his quest for a weapon. He found what he wanted and ran as fast as he could, ignoring Harry's call in the corridors behind him.

He was driven to know why he couldn't “rest”, something was left undone and he had to know what.

He opened the door to sickbay and headed straight for a medicine cabinet, hastily pushing other pharmaceuticals out of his way until he found the one he was looking for. He could hear the Admiral and Sharkey approaching so he hurried along finding a syringe and loading it from the vial. He flicked the air bubbles out and then turned around looking for a suitable place to do what needed to be done. He spotted a floor pipe and hurried over then fell to his knees and tugged his sweater upwards to expose his vein at the elbow. He injected himself with a grimace and then dropped the syringe and quickly applied the handcuffs around the pipe, then fastened it securely to both wrists just as Harry burst through the door.

“Lee?” he called approaching his stricken friend cautiously.

“Stay back, Admiral,” Lee said in an airy voice, laying his forehead against the wall as the drug began to take effect. “I have to know,” he continued, as his breaths grew shallow.

Harry spotted the syringe and closed the distance, picking it up and turning toward Lee.

“What did you give yourself, Lee?” he asked frantically as Lee's condition worsened.

“Admiral,” Sharkey called, finding an empty vial on the cabinet and bringing it to him.

Harry looked over the vial and dropped to a knee beside Lee. “Blast it Lee, you're allergic to penicillin. Chief, get on the horn and contact Jamieson, find out how we treat the reaction,” Harry ordered over his shoulder as Sharkey quickly complied.

Lee grimaced, the pain starting to clear his head, which was his plan all along as he fought to remember the buzzer, the glaring lights... and her voice, that damn voice over and over again...

“I know, Sir,” he answered Harry regarding the penicillin. “But I have to know... something's left undone, and I have to know,” he explained as Harry sat on the deck beside him.

“You intentionally injected yourself to induce pain?” Harry surmised to Lee's small nod. “And you're concerned about more subliminal messages?”

“Yes,” he breathed out.

“But Lee, the experiment is over,” Harry reasoned as he pulled a blanket from the nearest bunk and wrapped it around Lee's shoulders.

Lee's head leaned wearily against the wall as he made eye contact with Harry.

“Admiral... what do you remember after our dinner on Friday night?”

Harry's eyes squinted, pulling the memory from a foggy distance. “An enjoyable evening, relaxing, good company,” he replied with a small smile.

“And after that?”

“I went home,” Harry said with a shrug.

“No,” Lee countered. “We drove to Larson's laboratory.”

“Lee...”

“The klaxons...” he interrupted, as beads of sweat rolled down his temples and slid down his face. “They took me back.” He swallowed hard as Harry nodded.

“Go on.”

“I remember a buzzer, loud and invasive... every time I closed my eyes... every time I resisted,” he said as Harry's brow tightened while bits and pieces of the same experience flashed before his eyes.

“And the bright lights... so bright they hurt, then flashing... I couldn't ignore them.”

Harry nodded almost dumbfounded as Lee's description brought back memories of his own.

“And her voice...”

“The same voice we heard here,” Harry finished to Lee's nod as he swallowed hard.

“She told me things about you... I tried not to believe, but eventually...”

Harry placed a hand on his leg in support. “But eventually you had no choice, just like I had no choice,” Harry said with a sigh. “I remember,” he said in almost a whisper.

“Larson...”

“And Wallace,” Harry interjected. “They programmed us to kill one another. I remember now, the original parameters weren't for us to try and kill one another. It was a simple test of insubordination,” Harry said in a rush of anger.

Lee nodded. “How long were you there?” he asked experiencing a sudden cramp and reacting.

Harry grimaced for Lee's sake and then answered. “I left late Saturday afternoon,” Harry replied remembering his uncomfortable programming sessions.

Lee swallowed hard. “I was there until Sunday afternoon... I managed to resist their gas, but after they shot me with the dart... I couldn't hold out,” he added sorrowfully.

“Good Lord Lee, how long has it been since you slept?”

“Days,” he answered as a moan passed with his words, his memory slowly releasing his experience with the added pain helping to break through the brainwashing.

Harry blew a disgusted breath out. “Where's Sharkey?” he asked under his breath, then returned to his next thought. “So this wasn't just a technique of subliminal messages,” he stated more than asked. “But a full conditioning method using subliminal messages to reinforce behavior.”

Lee nodded in frustration. “Damn it Admiral... I promised myself I'd never let this happen again.”

“It was my fault, Lad,” Harry replied to Lee's disagreement. “I shouldn't have insisted.”

“No... if they were going to do it, better us... we beat it,” he said resolutely before curling tighter when the cramps continued.

“So there's something left to do?” Harry probed while watching Lee's condition worsen.

“Yes... I don't know what, but it's important and I'm not going to take a chance on a post subliminal message telling me what to do,” he said with conviction.

“Then let's keep talking, maybe it will present itself,” Harry suggested. “Tell me what else you remember.”

“They talked around me toward the end... like I wasn't there. I guess I wasn't, none of it registered. But after I was to kill you, Sharkey would play the Experiment End tape and I was to come to my senses, they intended for me to take the fall as the original parameters didn't call for violence.”

“And through the course of justice, you would be convicted of murder... premeditated because all weapons were supposed to be removed...”

Harry stopped as Lee's face went blank, his eyes almost glossy.

“Lee? What is it, Lad?”

“I'm still here,” he breathed out. “Justice...” he repeated as Harry gave him the time he needed to pull the thought from his foggy memory. “I cannot rest until I kill Nelson, until justice has been rendered in this matter,” he repeated almost monotone and then made eye contact with Harry. “The experiment is over concerning you, but justice hasn't been rendered!”

“Now that you know the truth about me, you're not bound by bringing me to justice...”

“Not you... Larson and Wallace,” he stated as the release of the realization caused a momentary elation that was immediately countered by the increased cramps causing him to grimace and cry out.

“Blast it Lee, this was drastic, injecting yourself with penicillin,” Harry grumbled.

“Had to know,” he said with a smile before returning to the issue. “Admiral, call Johnson... don't let them get away.”

“I will Lee, as soon as Sharkey returns with your treatment instructions.”

“Please Sir,” he said trying to reach for Harry before the cuffs pulled him back. “As strong as the urge was to kill you, so is this need for justice. I can't rest until I know,” he said, battling all the anxiety of the drug's original effects.

“Alright, let's uncuff you and get you into a bunk.”

“No Sir...” he said pulling away from Harry's touch. “Not until I know for sure.”

“In case there are more post experiment orders?”

Lee nodded. “Hurry Sir,” he pleaded, as Harry realized his distress was as much for seeing Larson and Wallace caught as his physical condition battling an allergic reaction.

He placed a hand on Lee's shoulder and squeezed. “I'll be right back,” he promised as Lee let his head fall back against the wall, working to cope with a dangerous allergic reaction to penicillin and a subliminal experiment still apparently working itself out in him.

Chapter Ten

Help on the Way

Harry ran all the way, entering the Control Room from the aft knee-knocker hatch and heading straight for the Radio Shack.

“Got it, Doc,” Sharkey said, writing busily on a note pad in front of him, then looked up when he saw the Admiral. “Doc the Admiral is here, do you still want to talk to him?”

He pulled the handset from his ears as Jamie practically yelled his answer.

“Nelson,” Harry said, switching from the handset to the speaker.

“Admiral, I need to get there as soon as possible. Sharkey can administer diphenhydramine, but not the corticosteroids, and anaphylaxis may require an epinephrine injection. If things escalate he may need to be intubated to breathe and nephritis is a real possibility,” he rattled off as Sharkey raised an eyebrow at all the big words Doc just fit into one breath.

“Gather your supplies, I'll have a helicopter there shortly,” Harry replied.

James sighed audibly. “Aye Sir.”

“Anything else before we sign off?” Harry inquired, anxious to call Johnson.

“Negative Sir.”

“Very well, Nelson out.”

Harry disconnected and immediately reconnected with NIMR Communications.

“This is Nelson to Communications Center, come in.”

“Communications Aye.”

“Patch me through to Admiral Johnson at once. Tell him it's a Top Security issue and I'll hold.”

“Aye Sir,” the voice replied as Harry tapped nervously on the desk in front of him.

“Should I go to sickbay, Sir?”

“Not yet, wait here,” Harry replied, figuring he would need Sharkey's services soon.

Sharkey nodded and raised an eyebrow knowing the Skipper was all alone in Sickbay.

Harry waited a few minutes before Communications hailed him.

“NIMR Communications to SSRN Seaview.”

“Seaview here, go ahead,” Harry replied in the mic.

“I have Admiral Johnson for you Sir.”

“Patch him through,” Harry answered, barely holding back his agitation and wanting to return to sickbay.

“Nelson here.”

“Harriman, what's so all fire important that you pulled me out of a briefing for?”

“The navy's subliminal message experiment,” Harry blasted back.

“Was that today?”

Harry scoffed. “Yes, and it damn near got both me and Crane killed.” Harry went on to summarize the problem, hitting the high points in short order.

“I'll have NIS detain the scientists and begin investigations,” Johnson said, his mind already working through a list of things to do to follow up.

“See that Wallace and Larson don't get away, Gerald. They have a lot to answer for.”

“We'll get them,” Johnson answered without any doubt. “How's Crane?”

“In bad shape, that's the other thing... I need your fastest chopper to pick up Dr. Jamieson at the Institute and fly him and a small support crew here as soon as possible. The sooner the better.”

“You've got it. Am I to assume that Seaview is just sitting on the surface with no one aboard but you three?”

“That's the long and short of it,” Harry replied.

“I'll get Starke on it; we'll get you an escort until you're underway again.”

“Thanks Gerald. Chief Sharkey will monitor the radio for the rendezvous as well as any communications you may have.”

“Very well. Johnson out.”

“Nelson out.”

Harry handed the mic back to Sharkey and indicated he should sit. “Chief, have Communications get Morton and three more crewmen here to help, they'll catch a ride with the Doc so it needs to be fast.”

“Aye, aye, Sir.”

“Is that the treatment?” Harry asked, referring to the note pad in Sharkey's hand.

“Yes Sir,” he said handing it over.

Harry placed a hand on Sharkey's shoulder and rested for a moment. “Let's just hope it's enough,” he said then headed back to Sickbay in a trot.

* * * * *

“Lee?” Harry called with a gentle hand to his shoulder; his eyes were open but he looked oddly unresponsive.

Lee stirred as Harry sighed in relief. “I thought maybe I'd find you asleep,” he said, shaking out three pills of diphenhydramine.

“No Sir... I can't rest; my eyes won't close without hearing that damn buzzer.”

Harry pursed his lips, having to use his self-control to tamp down the anger burning in him for what they both endured and what Lee put himself through to learn the truth.

“Jamie says you need to take these...”

“No sedatives, Admiral,” Lee pleaded.

“It's a non-drowsy antihistamine, Lee,” Harry assured him, holding the glass of water since Lee was still tethered to the pipe.

“Alright, here's what's happening,” Harry said, filling him in while sitting on the deck beside him. “Johnson has a team en route to bring in Larson and Wallace and to gather evidence. Jamie's on his way in a helicopter, along with Chip and a few seamen to help us out here, and Jiggs will send an escort of some kind, might be aerial support if he hasn't got anything close enough, but we'll be covered while we're sitting top-side waiting for the helicopter.”

Lee nodded. “Sounds good, Sir.”

“Now this part is an order,” Harry said, pursing his lips and going all US Navy Four Star Admiral on Lee.

“We're moving you to a bunk; if you're still not comfortable, I'll restrain you, but you've got to have mercy on me Lee,” Harry said mysteriously as Lee offered a pained confused expression. “What do you think Jamie will do to me if he arrives to find his critically ill patient on the deck and cuffed to the floor pipe?” he continued quite serious and then offering a small smile. Lee responded with his own smile and nodded back.

“Aye Sir, I understand.”

“Good,” Harry replied reaching into his pocket and pulling out the cuff keys he had already retrieved from the Master at Arms cabinet. He unlocked the cuff and then helped Lee to his feet as he leaned heavily on him, before bee-lining to the nearest lower bunk.

“Jamie would rather have you on the gurney,” Harry noted casually.

“The bunk’s more comfortable,” Lee replied, hinting that he didn’t care what Jamie thought at this moment as his whole body ached and the rack sounded good about now.

“I hear you,” Harry answered in support of Lee’s request and settled him in. “Do you want the restraints?”

Lee nodded an affirmative; he couldn’t bear it if he attacked Harry again.

Harry walked to a nearby cabinet and pulled out the safety restraints and returned to the bunk.

“I’m not going to take the heat from Jamie on this one,” he warned Lee. “I’m going to tell him you ordered me to apply them,” he deadpanned.

Lee laughed, knowing Harry was trying to make this easy on him as Lee hated the restraints like any normal person would, much less a man who had been restrained before for purposes antithetical to his well-being.

Once finished, Harry wet a towel and scooted a chair over, sitting wearily beside him.

“Do you want to talk?”

“I’m learning to cope with it,” Lee said, with a twitch to his cheek. “I seem to have a habit of trying to kill you,” he said referring to when the PR got a hold of him three years ago.

“Just remember, I was bent on killing you as well,” Harry reminded him.

Lee nodded. “Is our original agreement still good? I mean I didn’t shoot you out of a torpedo tube?” he jested with a shiver.

Harry pulled his blanket higher and blotted beads of sweat from his head. “And I didn’t keel-haul you,” he returned, keeping the mood light. “So there’s no reason to fret over this Lee, neither one of us was able to resist the conditioning,” he reminded him.

“I heard Larson laughing,” Lee said, cramping again. “He called me a Killing Machine.”

“We’ll see who laughs last,” Harry replied with a serious look in his eye. “As soon as the Experiment Ended you were able to turn it all off, Lee,” Harry reminded him. “Just remember that. It’s not an easy undertaking to turn off all that adrenalin in an instant, but you did.”

Lee considered it then sighed. “Thanks Admiral… how much longer, Sir?”

“Till Jamie arrives?”

“Till Larson and Wallace are in custody… I’m so tired,” he admitted, swallowing again as Harry understood that Lee’s body wouldn’t release him to rest until he knew he was free of all subliminal messages programmed into him.

“I’ll find out,” he said, patting Lee’s leg as he rose and headed to the mic.

“Sharkey, this is Nelson.”

“Aye Sir.”

“Get a message off to Admiral Johnson requesting immediate confirmation when Larson and Wallace are in custody, as well as an update on the raid.”

“Aye, aye, Sir.”

“And Sharkey, get me an ETA on Jamieson’s chopper.”

“Aye Sir.”

Harry returned and sat next to Lee, who apparently was in deep thought.

“There’s one more person to bring in… at least for questioning,” Lee said.

“The woman who recorded all those messages about killing each other,” Harry said, finishing Lee’s thoughts.

“She might just have been reading it like a script, but I’d feel better knowing what the story is.”

“Good thinking, Lee. I’ll inform NIS; Larson probably has her identity documented. By the looks of this elaborate scheme, I’d say he felt pretty comfortable that the experiment would be in the clear and he could go on, business as usual; perhaps even underscoring the need to further test the power of subliminal messages and receiving funding to boot.”

“But there’s got to be…” Lee stopped to grimace, cramping as his breaths turned shallower. “There’s got to be a reason for what he did… a successful experiment under the old parameters would have provided all the funding he needed.”

“I agree. They were working for someone else.”

Lee nodded.

“Something else for NIS to ferret out.”

“Admiral, this is Sharkey.”

Harry rose and headed for the nearest mic. “Go ahead Chief.”

“ETA for the Doc is thirty-two minutes.”

“Very well, Chief. I’ll head top-side in twenty-five minutes.”

Harry returned to Lee’s side, unconsciously holding his shoulder as he sat down to Lee's chuckle.

“What?”

“If you think you’re escaping Jamie’s care when he arrives you’re sadly mistaken,” he said partly giggling.

Harry tapped the stars on his collar. “I don't think so,” he teased, trying to keep Lee's mind off of the fact that he was strapped down while having an allergic reaction to penicillin after surviving a subliminal nightmare.

“He's not impressed with my silver oak leaves, I doubt your stars will pass muster either,” Lee said, incredibly casual for their usual on-boat conversations. His banter was followed by a grunt while he squeezed his eyes shut as a cramp seized him again.

“Let me unstrap you, Lee,” Harry asked, but Lee was already shaking his head, “no”.

“Not until I know for sure,” he said, not wanting to chance any post subliminal orders like the one that was keeping him awake now.

Harry shook his head in resignation, then glanced at his watch. “Time for me go top-side and meet the chopper. He patted Lee's shoulder. “Jamie will fix you up, Lee. Soon it will all be over.”

Lee nodded; he sure hoped so, swallowing hard as he watched Harry leave Sickbay.

* * * * *

Harry watched as Chip deboarded first, jumping a good foot from the helicopter to the deck as the able pilot hovered over Seaview, making adjustments for the pitch and roll of the fairly calm seas. Next it was Kowalski, then Jamie, followed by Patterson and Riley, a team he had extreme confidence in, all able seaman to handle the Boat as a skeleton crew.

Kowalski and Patterson were carrying medical supplies for the doctor as Chip escorted Jamie forward, both holding their service caps as the chopper got the okay to lift off. They had barely gotten into the Conning Tower before Jamie started drilling the Admiral as to why Lee Crane injected himself with penicillin when he knew darn well he was allergic to the stuff.

Harry gave him the eye, and Jamie pulled it back a notch, but Chip was just as curious. When they hit the deck of the Control Room, Chip assigned duties, sending Riley to relieve Chief Sharkey at the radio and Kowalski and Patterson to the sonar and hydrophones. The computer would continue to run the Boat for their short journey home, but at least they had some stations covered to monitor a safe journey.

Harry took Jamie straight back to Sickbay and informed Chip to get them underway. He knew the Exec would have liked to have visited Lee first, but right now he couldn't spare his leadership in the Control Room. On the way to Sickbay, Harry gave the “short and condensed” version of Lee's dilemma, including his present condition and the fact that Lee requested to be restrained. Jamie hadn't missed the blotch of blood on Harry's shoulder, having discarded his sling earlier to climb the ladder and figured he would have two patients waiting for him.

* * * * *

“Skipper?” Jamie called, not knowing if Lee was awake as his head was turned toward the bulkhead.

“Hi Jamie,” he said, offering a small smile for intentionally putting himself in harm's way.

Jamie smiled but his concern was evident as he took Lee's vitals.

“Nausea?”

“No, just bad cramps.”

“Pretty significant I'd say by the looks of you, still you're in better shape than I would have thought,” Jamie noted.

“I noticed that too,” Lee replied, trying to hold back some of the moans but wanting to be honest with Jamie. “I figure that little run-in I had on that ONI mission last year may have something to do with it,” he offered, referring to the corpsman who intentionally drugged him in small doses of penicillin in order to make him sick enough to believe he had to turn over his Intel to his partner, a dirty sub commander. *

Jamie's face brightened. “Possibly, he may have done you a favor by desensitizing you a bit. Still, you're very sick and I don't like some of your vitals. Your heartbeat is racing, your blood-pressure is low, not dangerously yet, but I'm going to need to keep a close eye on it. Let me raise your shirt and see if you have a rash.” Jamie did so and nodded. “I thought so,” he affirmed, “that and your fever indicates serum sickness; again, not as bad as I had prepared for, thank goodness, but bad enough.”

Jamie sighed. “Skipper, it would be easier to treat you without the restraints. You seem perfectly rational and in perfect control.”

Lee thought about it for a moment. “Alright, but only if you cuff me to the bunk rail.”

Jamie nodded in agreement. Lee was willing to work with him and by the looks of things both he and the Admiral had had a rough time of it.

“Fine, let's remove these and I'm going to want you in scrubs.”

“I don't think I can handle that Jamie. I'm working off a great deal of anxiety right now, I'm... not as calm as you think,” he admitted as Jamie backed off immediately, knowing it was highly unusual for Lee to readily admit to something that sensitive.

“Believe me, if we weren't at sea I'd be stopping at nothing to get to Larson,” he continued.

“That's alright Skipper. I'll work around it,” Jamie conceded, removing the last restraint as Harry handed him the cuff. Regretfully, Jamie applied the hand nearest him to the bunk rail and then patted his shoulder and rose. “I'll be right back, Skipper,” he said in a concerned voice that brought a small measure of fleeting peace.

“How are you doing, Lee?” Harry said as Jamie stepped away.

“The anxiety and need to be doing something is ratcheting up Admiral,” he admitted, knowing Harry would understand the drive to fulfill what he hoped was the last of the subliminal messages.

“I'll go rattle a few cages and find out what's happening on the raid,” Harry promised.

“Thanks Admiral.”

Chapter Eleven

Seeking Justice

Dr. Larson and Wallace arrived at the lab bright and early Monday morning. They would need to be available for the inevitable falling out once Seaview arrived back in port with the news that Crane had murdered Admiral Nelson in cold blood. They had a second set of tapes containing the subliminal messages of the original parameters, they would be important as the tapes aboard Seaview were erased as they played. They had thought of everything.

Wallace had returned to a bit of a nervous state, he had decided to stay on with the project finding a disturbing satisfaction at controlling another person's life, but he still had tickets to South America where he would take his wife for her medical treatment.

“Do you think it's over?” Wallace asked, looking at his watch.

“I'm sure it is. Like I said, by the time we were through with Crane he was an absolute killing machine,” he said with a smile. “Listen, he can't even rest until Nelson is dead. He's like a robot with no capacity to access his own morals, he'll finish the job,” he predicted.

“When will Dr. Gamma pay up?” Wallace asked, needing the cash before he headed to the airport.

“I'll send a message as soon as Nelson's death is verified. The money will be wired directly. Relax Wallace; everything is going according to plan.”

“I guess you're right,” he replied, reaching up to rub his neck in a nervous unconscious habit.

“Did you hear that?” Larson asked, turning his head toward the sound.

“Hear what?”

Their conversation was interrupted by a man in a suit wearing a bullet proof vest with the initials NIS in big orange print across his chest bursting in the door with a gun drawn.

“Doctors Wallace and Larson? Will you come with me please?” he asked politely, but the fact that he never lowered the gun indicated it wasn't a request.

“What is this all about?” Larson asked, feigning no knowledge of any possible wrong-doing and hoping that Wallace didn't start spilling his guts before he could do damage control.

“This way gentlemen,” the NIS agent indicated, herding the two scientists into the screening room with the rest of the staff who had no clue of any wrong-doing.

“Just keep your cool Wallace,” Larson warned under his breath as they stood off to themselves. “There’s nothing here to convict us, and the tapes aboard Seaview are worthless. Just don’t panic,” he urged as the Lead Agent approached.

“Gentlemen, it would appear that your Subliminal Experiment aboard Seaview went terribly wrong.”

“In what way?” Larson asked feigning complete surprise.

“It would appear that the subliminal messages urged acts of violence against Admiral Nelson and Captain Crane.”

“That’s ridiculous. Look, I’ve got the film we used clearly marked. I’m sure your lab can verify their content by slowing the film down.”

“Yes sir, we intend to do just that.”

“You said ‘acts of violence’? I hope no one was injured?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. One of our men is in critical condition aboard Seaview.”

“Oh dear,” Larson lamented turning to Wallace. “Who would have thought a simple test of insubordination could lead to violence. I thought our two subjects were good friends; that was one of the reasons we picked them.”

“Yes,” Wallace chimed in. “If there was any act of violence it’s possible that it may have been due to subconscious permission.”

“Subconscious permission?” Agent Davidson asked.

“Yes, if Crane already had an unspoken issue with Admiral Nelson, then his subconscious mind may have taken the subliminal messages to the next level, a completely unauthorized level and not sanctioned by our experiment whatsoever,” Wallace explained. “I do so hope Admiral Nelson recovers,” he added as Larson flinched.

“I see. Well gentlemen, since United States Navy personnel were involved NIS is taking jurisdiction in investigating the matter. We’d like to take both of your statements now.”

“Certainly,” Larson agreed as the two scientists were separated.

“What do you think?” Agent Baker said moving up alongside his boss.

“Something’s up for sure. Did you notice that Wallace offered a reason for Crane’s reaction right away? No one has explained what kind of violence occurred aboard Seaview, but he not only assumed Crane was the aggressor, he also assumed it was Nelson who was injured.”

“Yeah, Larson is very cool, but Wallace seems to be pretty nervous. He hasn’t stopped wiping his palms on his lab coat since we arrived.”

“We’ve got probable cause to hold them temporarily on the two officer’s charges alone, but we’re going to need evidence or their lawyers will have them walking in no time. Tear this place apart and gather everything we can. We’ve got to find something to substantiate Nelson’s claim. Look for anything resembling mind conditioning beyond the experiment parameters.”

“Right,” Baker said trotting off to supervise the evidence team.

* * * * *

Harry returned to the radio shack as Chip approached.

“How's he doing, Sir?” he asked in controlled concern.

“Better than expected, I'll tell you about it later. Right now I have a call to make,” he said turning toward Riley to make the connection, before turning back sharply. “Oh Chip, before I forget, lay up to the Circuitry Room and retrieve all the experiment tapes there. Lock them in my cabin.”

“Aye Sir,” Chip said, seeing to the order directly.

“Riley, patch me through to Admiral Johnson, ONI Headquarters,” but before Riley could begin, another call came in.

“It’s Admiral Johnson, Sir,” Riley announced as Harry nodded and flipped the switch to use the handset.

“Gerald, I hope you’ve got some good news for me.”

“Hello Harriman. We’ve got both Larson and Wallace in for questioning, based upon your report we’ve gathered all the tapes and film as evidence. As you know, those will have to go to the lab to determine what if any, subliminal messages are present. Right now we’re questioning them on your accusation for probable cause, but we’re going to need hard evidence to hold them.”

“I’ve got the tapes they used on Crane and me aboard Seaview,” Nelson offered, trying to hold back his anger.

“Good, that’ll be enough to keep them until we run them through the lab and follow the usual paper trail, including bank accounts. How’s Crane?”

“Jamieson is cautiously optimistic. His allergic reaction wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but he’s still plenty sick.”

“I’ll need an After Action Report as soon as he’s able. And we're going to need a debrief with you once things settle down.”

“Aye Gerald. We’re a couple of hours from port; I’ll contact you once Lee is settled into Med Bay. And don’t let them walk, Gerald. Both Crane and I can give you a very descriptive account of a clear case of brainwashing with subliminal messages to reinforce the conditioning.”

“Good, I want to nail them, Harriman. Johnson out.”

“Nelson out.” Harry hung the handset up and tapped the desk for a moment in thought, then headed toward the Chart Table where Chip had just returned from stowing the tapes in his cabin.

“Chip, keep me informed of our progress. As soon as we’re docked I need the skeleton crew deboarded and debriefed. Once Lee is transferred to Med Bay I want the sub locked down until Johnson seals this case up.”

“Aye Sir.”

“And when you’re through, join me over at Med Bay. Once Lee is settled, we’re going to catch up with the NIS team and make sure Larson and Wallace are nailed to the wall.”

“Gladly Sir,” Chip replied with more expression than was his custom aboard Seaview.

“I’m heading back to Sickbay if you need me,” he announced, holding his arm to curb the pain in his shoulder and wishing he hadn’t ditched the sling Sharkey had fixed up for him. He couldn’t be concerned about that right now; right now he needed to let Lee know that Larson and Wallace had been detained, he hoped that would be enough to release Lee to the rest he desperately needed.

* * * * *

Harry approached Lee’s bunk catching his cuffed hand shaking in an uncontrollable shudder and his free hand cross his middle balled into a fist; as expected, he was still awake.

“Lee,” he said taking the stool next to the bunk.

“Did we get them?” he asked wearily.

Harry smiled then nodded. “They’re both being detained for questioning, but our testimony and the tapes we have aboard Seaview should be enough to charge them.”

Lee closed his eyes in relief. He opened them again and smiled. “No more buzzer,” he announced wearily with a grin.

“And no sudden urge to kill me?” Harry asked with a smile.

Lee chuckled, “No Sir.”

“Good. Then it’s time for you to rest, Lee. You’re exhausted.”

“Aye Sir,” he slurred as his eyes fluttered closed and his body’s need for sleep was finally released from the subliminal post suggestion.

Harry stepped back as Jamie eased in and checked his patient, then stepped away motioning for Harry to join him across the room.

“He’s asleep, thank goodness,” Jamie reported. “I’m not sure how long his physical body could have held out with the lack of sleep, on top of the strain of the conditioning, not to mention the allergic reaction.”

“Good, but we’ve got to keep him that way,” Harry said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. “Larson and Wallace are only being detained for questioning at this point. They’ll need hard evidence to keep them without an official charge.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I’m not sure Jamie, but if he realizes that “justice” hasn’t been served yet, he may end up in the same condition again.”

Jamie bit his bottom lip. “From what you've told me, he’s been awake and on his feet for almost three days now. He’s clinically exhausted and I think he’ll be out for some time now. But I’ll give him a mild sedative to aid his sleep; that should keep him out while we transfer him to Med Bay.”

“Good. Chip and I are going to report to NIS and make sure the case is solid, once we hit port and Lee is settled into Med Bay.”

“Which should be in how many hours?”

“Approximately two hours.”

“Good, you're next,” Jamie announced, tilting his head toward the gurney. “Off with the shirt and I'll take care of Lee's sedative through his IV port.”

Harry eased up on the gurney, he was too tired to argue and the truth was, his shoulder hurt like the dickens. He unbuttoned and shrugged his shirt off as Jamie returned eying the bandage. Without a word he motioned for the Admiral to lie on the gurney as he cut away the bloody dressing to examine the wound.

“Sharkey did a pretty good job on this field repair, but I'm going to inject a local anesthetic and make sure it's cleaned out properly,” he informed the Admiral. “And before you protest, I promise you'll be up and about before Seaview docks.”

Harry breathed out heavily. “Fair enough,” he conceded and closed his eyes holding back the chuckle of Lee's prediction that even an admiral's stars wouldn't be enough to intimidate Seaview's CMO.

* * * * *

Lee was settled in at Med Bay, with Seaview having docked over an hour ago. True to Jamieson's word he had remained asleep, partly due to the sedative and mostly due to his physical exhaustion as his body shut down to the world. He'd been transferred, changed into a hospital gown and settled into a Med Bay bed without the slightest indication that he was waking.

Harry stood beside his bed thinking about the extra day Lee spent in Larson's care and fumed. At least he'd been able to go home Saturday evening and rest after his ordeal, though he did so completely on automatic pilot to fulfill the post suggestions of Dr. Wallace in his final instructions. But something had gone wrong in Lee's programming, perhaps his will or something else Lee said... that he had nearly beaten the gas. According to Lee, it was after he'd been shot with the dart that he broke, suggesting the gas was perhaps less effective. It was all speculation at this point, the bottom line was that Lee had been subjected to twenty-four hours more of the mind-bending techniques at Wallace and Larson's hands.

He didn't want to do anything to wake his sleeping friend, so he withheld reaching for him or brushing the errant curl off his forehead.

“I'm going to make sure they're locked away forever, Lee,” he whispered and turned to leave. He exited just in time to greet Chip as he exited the elevator.

“How is he, Sir?”

“Jamie says he stable, the allergic reaction is under control and he's finally sleeping.”

Chip blew a breath of relief and dipped his head. “Can I see him, Sir?”

“I'm sure it's fine, just don't wake him,” Harry gently admonished to Chip's agreeing nod.

* * * * *

Chip entered Lee's room; it was mostly dark with only enough lights for the nurses to care for him. Lee was sleeping uncharacteristically hard, completely unaware of his presence. Chip sighed. He wasn't keen on the experiment to begin with, it just seemed like they were playing with fire and in hindsight that's exactly what it was. He was glad the Admiral was including him in the trip down south to join NIS in the investigation, and planned on doing everything he could to make sure Larson and Wallace paid for what they did.

“Just rest Lee,” he whispered. “We'll take care of the rest,” he promised and stepped out to rejoin the Admiral.

Chapter Twelve

Joining the Investigation

Harry and Chip headed south for Larson's laboratory with Chip driving while the Admiral filled him in along the way. The tapes aboard Seaview had already been collected by a NIS evidence team dispatched and ready for them at port while Lee was being settled in, and presumably already on their way to the NIS lab for analysis.

Chip's hands tightened and flexed on the steering wheel as he willed himself to the famous self-control he'd always been known for.

“It's unbelievable, Sir,” he said, shaking his head.

“I'm still trying to reel in all the facts myself; our memories were jarred and Sharkey and I broke through the conditioning strictly due to the added pain, in much the same way Lee broke through after the PR programmed him.”

“But Lee wasn't injured?” Chip noted, clarifying the facts.

“No, and he remained completely driven to kill me until Sharkey changed the tape to end the experiment.”

Chip blew a silent breath. “I can guess he was pretty upset.”

“Yes, but he seemed to be dealing with it, that is until the klaxons rang. Lee had a flash back to the conditioning room, he knew there was more than he was remembering so he...”

“He injected himself with penicillin to induce the pain he needed to break through,” Chip finished for Harry with a disgusted shake of his head. “I swear Admiral, sometimes I don't know whether he needs a medal for valor or a trip to the nut farm,” he half joked.

Harry chuckled lightly. “I'm pretty sure it's a medal for valor, but I couldn't agree with you more on the drastic step he took to remember; but if he hadn't, who knows how long if ever, the experience would have returned to me. Lee remembered the conditioning... I didn't.”

“But Jamie says he's going to be fine?” Chip asked, hoping he had all the information available on Lee's physical condition.

“Physically and emotionally he'll heal, I have no doubt about that, but he's concerned about post subliminal suggestions and that's what we have to find out; that both of us are free from this experiment once and for all.”

“The best way to do that is to seal the case on Larson and Wallace,” Chip offered.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed. “I'm counting on you to help me drive this investigation, and to take notice of any sudden and inexplicable changes in my behavior.”

“Just in case you've been exposed to a post subliminal message as well,” Chip reasoned, knowing that Lee had been physically unable to sleep until the issue of “justice” had been resolved.

“Yes. Sharkey was obviously exposed to some level of conditioning, although since his actions didn't require behavior antithetical to his belief system, I'll wager not as drastic as mine or Lee's, which is why it has to be you. We've been together a long time, Chip; you know me. You'll know if something is off.”

“Aye Sir,” Chip said, agreeing to Harry's request and willing to do whatever was needed for the Admiral and Lee to find closure.

“There's something I don't understand, Admiral,” Chip stated. “Why did Larson program Lee with the desire for justice against himself and Wallace?”

“He didn't, at least not intentionally,” Harry answered with a grin. “Lee repeated the exact the words that were driving him. It was that he couldn't rest until he killed me and justice was rendered in the matter. Larson intended on using Lee's strong sense of justice and devotion to his country to ensure my death, but once the experiment ended, Lee knew the truth about me. His subconscious mind, however, knew that 'justice hadn't been rendered in the matter', not until Larson and Wallace were dealt with. Larson's own programming was the catalyst for Lee knowing something else needed to be done,” he explained, his smile widening for the ironic fact that Larson could be caught and convicted by his own experiment parameters.

Chip nodded his understanding then pursed his bottom lip; he really wanted to bring Larson and Wallace in. They drove a few more miles before Harry pointed toward an upcoming highway sign.

“Larson's laboratory is off the next exit,” he directed as Chip's resolve heightened.

* * * * *

“Admiral Nelson; I'm Agent Davidson.”

“Nice to meet you, this is Command Morton. How goes the investigation?”

“I have a team working on the audio tapes, and another on the films. We’re starting with the ones marked ‘Seaview Subliminal Experiment 1-A2O’. There are other films and tapes that don’t seem to be related; we’ll check them next. So far they’re telling me that it matches the original experiment parameters Admiral Johnson sent us.”

Harry scoffed. “They've had a whole day to clear out anything damaging. What about the conditioning rooms? Crane and I were here simultaneously while in their ‘care’.”

“Do you remember where they’re located?”

“Of course,” Harry said, heading down a corridor and opening the door. What he found was a small room filled with portable racks and cleaning supplies.

He shook his head in disgust. “I guess they thought of everything, but tell me Agent Davidson, what does a supply room need with an electronic bolt system?” he asked, pointing the NIS investigator toward the open door jam and the corresponding bolts on the door. “And here,” Harry continued. “How many supplies rooms are wired with speakers and a camera in the ceiling?”

Davidson sighed as he looked up. “I see your point. The fact is we found another room this exact same size in an adjacent hallway, a three by eight-foot broom closet with the same locks, speaker and camera set-up. On top of that we found two rooms with surveillance equipment and two way speakers, along with an elaborate recording playback system. When our team started investigating they realized that each one was wired to one of these two rooms.”

“And were there controls for sensory discipline?”

“As in blinding lights and an extremely annoying ear-drum busting buzzer?” Davidson asked, indicating they had found such controls.

“You found them I see.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that exactly what you described happened here, the problem is your word and the rooms here still leave room for reasonable doubt as to who did the brainwashing, unless we find something that connects both Larson and Wallace directly to your claims.”

“Then what we need are the tapes they used in the conditioning,” Harry stated.

“That would seal the case, along with the tapes aboard Seaview,” he added. “What I need now Admiral Nelson is a full statement from you so I know what to look for… what we haven’t thought of so far.”

“Of course,” Harry said as they moved to another room for the debriefing.

* * * * *

“That was one hell of a ride,” Agent Davidson commented with a shake of the head, turning off the recorder and sitting back in his chair.

“One I would have preferred to avoid,” Harry replied as Chip nodded his agreement.

“I agree with yours and Crane’s supposition that the scientists are working for someone else…”

Davidson was interrupted by a knock on the door; he rose and met the junior agent, conferring quietly as they discussed a file folder. Davidson nodded and then returned to the table, laying the folder in front of him.

“We have the bank accounts for both men; it seems that Dr. Larson has a safety deposit box. I'll have to obtain a search warrant for the details of their accounts and for access to the box. In the meantime, let's get over to the office, I've had both Larson and Wallace on ice for several hours now, I think it's time for some heavy duty questioning.”

“Making them sweat it out?” Chip asked with a raised eyebrow.

Davidson tilted his head and shrugged a shoulder. “It does wonders for encouraging nervous bad guys to talk.”

Chip nodded in approval.

“One more thing, Admiral Nelson. Wallace said some pretty interesting things earlier. He assumed that Commander Crane was the aggressor and that you were the critically injured officer.” Harry raised an eyebrow and pursed his bottom lip at the revelation of the so-called innocent scientist. “So I'm going to keep you behind the two-way mirror. Let's let him continue to think that, and see what else he gives up. Commander Morton, you'll be present during the questioning. Now I don't want you to interfere, just look menacing and mad as hell.”

Chip nodded. “I can do that.”

Davidson took one look at the blond officer's command face and instantly agreed.

* * * * *

Doctor Jamieson looked over the chart of his patient then checked the fluids in the IV bag. He made notes and then looked down at his captain. It never ceased to amaze him Lee Crane's devotion to duty; only this time, it could have gotten him killed. To inject himself with penicillin when he knew darn well he was allergic was irresponsible... reckless... crazy... and just what he'd expect from a man who would always put others before his own well-being.

“You and I are going to have a nice little talk when you're feeling better,” he whispered. His eyes narrowed as he examined Lee's face noticing rapid eye movement under his eyelids and sighed. REM sleep indicated he was far too close to waking than Jamie was comfortable with right now and left to order another dose of sedatives.

Meanwhile, Lee's eyes continued to move rapidly as he was caught in a nightmare. Over and over he heard her voice and always after the blaring buzzer had shocked him back into submission and the glaring lights soaked the all-white room till it seemed he had no other existence but this room. He would drift off in exhaustion and would pay the price, or show too much defiance, but it was always the same; the buzzer, the lights, her voice... Let's begin again...

Her voice had been so peaceful and even alluring when she was affirming his high standards, but he had come to hate that voice and everything she represented. She filled him with lies he didn't want to believe about his best friend and just when he thought he had defeated her, it would start all over again until he finally broke, his mind accepting her words; not of his own free will but due to the drug he received administered by dart.

Let's begin again... over and over until his mind went blank and was refilled with new information. The lights glared once again followed by the flashing, irritating his senses and providing no rest even when he dared to shut his eyes only to be rewarded with more sensory discipline...

His head tossed and he grunted at the bright lights and blaring buzzer that never stopped in his dreams until he thought he would explode, then just as suddenly as the nightmare began it stopped abruptly, as he seized the opportunity to dive deeper into a black void, far from her voice and those three hated words... Let's begin again.

* * * * *

Jamie watched as the sedative took effect and Lee's tossing slowed, then stopped. He looked for any sign of rapid eye movement but saw none as Lee's body relaxed completely and he sunk into a deep unconscious state. The doctor blew a breath of relief out; he didn't want his patient waking for several reasons, the first being he was far too exhausted and required much more rest to replenish what the experiment stole from him. But he was also unsure if Lee would be seized by the issue of justice once again. He had no desire to reapply the restraints and checked his vitals once more before easing out of the room. He could only hope that the Admiral would bring back good news and he could get on with the healing of his patient's body and soul.

Chapter Thirteen

Closing In

Dr. Charles Larson and Dr. Grant Wallace had been kept at the NIS field office for hours, but hadn't been charged with anything. They had followed Gamma's instructions and had removed the damning tapes and film as well as the experimental drug they had used on their subjects. They were awaiting their payoff, but Gamma was explicit that he required confirmation of Nelson's death first. So there was nothing but two officer's word against their scientific explanation that their subjects obviously had an adverse reaction to a simple subliminal message experiment. With no evidence to back them up, the investigators would be forced to accept the fact that Crane acted upon his own desires and used the experiment to attack Nelson. That's how they were playing it. Even the tapes aboard Seaview had been rigged to erase once played.

Larson was growing impatient and he could see that Wallace was too nervous. They would walk away from this with a large payout from Gamma, and a government grant to continue their work if only Wallace didn't blow it. There was no privacy to confer and he figured it was best not to appear to corroborate their stories. In keeping with his role of “not having anything to hide” and “I want to help in any way possible” Larson hadn't called his attorney. It would be fine; it would all be fine if only Wallace kept his cool.

* * * * *

“Dr. Larson... Dr. Wallace,” the brown haired forty-something lead investigator said, greeting them with a warm smile and extending a hand. The rugged lines on his face bore a handsome countenance and the investigator, though wearing a brown suit looked like he would be much more at home in blue jeans and a cowboy hat. Indeed, he wore rather distinctive cowboy boots with his suit. His brown eyes were soft and friendly reflecting a likable personality, all at which put Larson at ease immediately.

All this was in sharp contrast to the tall blond officer who had followed Agent Davidson in. His blue eyes were sharp and steely and his expression never changing, even when he offered his hand in greeting.

“May I present Lt. Commander Morton, Executive Officer aboard Seaview.”

Larson nodded and sighed in recognition. “Of course, Commander Morton... I can't tell you how perplexed we are at the unfortunate events that occurred aboard Seaview. Tragic... simply tragic,” he said, laying it on thick.

“We were all taken by surprise,” Chip offered, careful not to get in the way of the direction Davidson wanted to take in the questioning.

“I'm sorry about my delay gentlemen,” Larson offered, sweeping a hand from the outer office to a briefing room. “I'm afraid we had to investigate all possibilities,” he offered as Larson and Wallace stepped into the room.

“Which is?” Larson asked in gentle probing.

“One of our most celebrated naval officers is under medical attention right now, the other is telling us a fantastic story; he insists that something happened at your laboratory during the preparations that caused him to act so violently,” Davidson said, telling the truth and seeing how they interpreted it based upon what they really knew.

“I... I can't imagine what?” Larson said with an understanding expression. “You have the films we used for the initial subliminal messages, have you had a chance to look them over?”

“Yes, that's where I've been for the last few hours.”

“And what did you find?” Wallace chimed in, needing some good news to help him play his part.

“The flash pictures are exactly what we'd have expected based upon the experiment parameters.”

Wallace reacted in relief as Chip scowled and raised an eyebrow.

“What we need from you is your take on the situation,” Davidson asked, giving the impression that he needed the scientists help to solve the mystery. “Before you speak, would either of you care to call your attorney for legal representation?”

“Of course not,” Larson said leaning over with his hands folded on the table. “We'd like to do all we can to help solve this mystery. Perhaps we could help more if you would explain just what occurred aboard Seaview.”

“We're still piecing that together, but it would appear that Admiral Nelson and Commander Crane engaged in nothing short of mortal combat. The activity of aggression spans the entire sub. The result was... disastrous,” Davidson dipped his head in regret before raising it again, making eye contact and urging some explanation.

“As I explained before, the experiment was to test how subliminal messages could affect two highly trained officers. Admiral Nelson was to become quite perturbed with Commander Crane and simply antagonize him. Commander Crane's responses should have never moved beyond verbal insubordination,” Larson explained.

“I've been giving this a lot of thought,” Wallace jumped in. “And I'm convinced that we may have overlooked the possibility that Crane wasn't forthright with his feelings toward Nelson and that his subconscious mind may have used the opportunity to act out on his previous desires.”

“You're saying that Commander Crane actually wanted to harm Nelson... in fact, there's no other way to say it; there is every indication that he fervently tried to kill Nelson.”

“That's exactly what I'm saying. He came to our laboratory and received a simple preparation for accepting the auditory subliminal messages, but the two messages together would in no way drive him to violence... no, he had to have combined Nelson's antagonism with something else; perhaps jealousy, or anger over something in the past...” he shrugged his shoulder as he spoke. “Frankly, it could be anything.”

“I see. I have the film from the screening room, as I stated they completely support the original parameters, but we're having trouble with the auditory tapes from Seaview.”

“Oh?” Larson asked in mock surprise.

“So far, all we have are blank tapes.”

“That's impossible, I checked those tapes myself,” Larson said.

“May I suggest a sad, but real possibility,” Wallace said apologetically.

“By all means,” Davidson replied sitting back in his chair and awaiting Wallace's explanation.

“If Crane was operating on more than our experiment dictated and subconsciously acted on a prior... fantasy of doing away with Admiral Nelson, then the only explanation would be that he erased the tapes himself.”

Davidson leaned forward. “To cover his tracks?”

Wallace nodded and sighed.

“But that would suggest more than a subconscious act, it might suggest premeditation,” Davidson stated, spelling it out.

“It's a real possibility,” Wallace stated, looking to Larson as he nodded his agreement.

Davidson blew a breath out. “That could explain everything,” he said regretfully. “Including how he brought the only loaded weapon aboard Seaview, that fact has already been established,” he said to Larson and Wallace’s sad agreeing nod.

“And how is Admiral Nelson?” Wallace asked. “Was he injured badly?”

“He was shot and exposed to a deadly gas used to flush out the bilge system,” Davidson offered, telling them the truth, just not the extent of the Admiral's injuries.

Chip's eyes narrowed as Wallace risked a look his direction and got caught.

“You seem very upset by the turn of events Commander Morton,” he noted, trying to cover up for any nervousness he had as Morton's body language exuded a man with a lot of pent up anger.

Chip nodded and swallowed. “Both men are my friends,” Chip offered. “But the Admiral has been my mentor for years... if he doesn't pull through...” he started than faded, as if shaking off the thought.

“I understand,” Wallace said, barely keeping a nervous relieved smile from his lips, but not the uncontrollable muscle twitch in his cheek.

About that time Baker opened the door and called Davidson over as he whispered in his ear. He returned to the table and sat with a shrug.

“Well I don't want to keep you two much longer, I know you had plans for a vacation after this experiment Dr. Wallace, but I really must ask you to postpone your trip to South America at this time.”

Wallace swallowed hard, his Adam's apple moving profusely in the process. He cleared his throat, nervous that they knew about those plans. “But of course,” he said finally finding his voice.

“Will this cause a problem for your wife? I know she's been quite ill and was no doubt looking forward to a relaxing vacation,” Davidson said fueling the fire for the nervous scientist.

“No, of course not. We'll simply contact our travel agent and make other plans,” Wallace said rebounding as best as he could, while rubbing his hands on his thighs underneath the table.

“I'm glad to hear that. Now gentlemen, if you don't mind I need to check on a new development and then I may have more questions for you about the subject of “subconscious permission” that you raised earlier.

“Of course,” they both agreed as Davidson left, nodding for Chip to follow him.

They reconvened behind the two-way mirror as Baker explained what they had found at the lab.

“The evidence team was perplexed about something that didn't look right in both the supply closet and the broom closet,” Agent Baker explained to Davidson with Harry and Chip gathered around to hear as well.

“Go on,” Davidson urged, as his brow tightened.

“They didn't think the sprinkler system looked right and started dismantling one to take a look. A puff of residual gas greeted the investigator and he nearly fell off the ladder. We traced the lines back to the control room and were able to bleed off what was left in the lines. The lab's looking at it right now, but Ben had a few moments with some pretty strange affects.”

“Like what?”

“He said it was instant anxiety and angst, he was really messed up. Then it passed and he complained of feeling like ants were crawling under his skin.”

Davidson turned toward Harry and raised an eyebrow. “That fits your statement. Alright, the case is tightening up. What else do you have?”

“Well as you know, we spent the first four or five hours of this investigation watching and slowing down the films to ascertain the content, while another team worked on the auditory tapes from the lab.”

“Yes,” Davidson urged.

“We just started on the tapes aboard Seaview, it's quite a process slowing down a two-hour tape and listening to it for subliminal messages at one-twentieth the speed. The team reported that so far the first two tapes are blank... no content, subliminal or otherwise.”

“Alright we already had that information,” Davidson goaded.

“Well that's the thing. The parameters for the experiment only called for a two hour cruise. Seaview would leave port and return well within that time period; she was only supposed to take a short jaunt out to sea.”

“Yes?”

“Then why were there more than eight hours of tapes aboard, if the experiment was only supposed to run for two hours?”

Davidson raised an eyebrow as a half-smile grew. “Tell me you're going somewhere with this?” he said as Chip and Harry leaned in closer.

“Well Harvey wondered the same thing and decided to check the last tapes first. He found the tape ending the experiment with all its content. Everything was on the up and up, so he went to the next to the last tape and this is what he found,” Baker said moving to the table and pressing the play button on a portable tape player.

“It's been slowed twenty times to get this message,” he explained as the voice of Seaview's newly installed automatic warning system gave a different type of message.

Captain Crane, Nelson is trying to kill you. You must kill him first. You cannot rest until he is dead and justice has been rendered in the matter.

Harry slapped a hand on the table beside the tape and breathed out his anger, before speaking. “Good work, gentlemen. Larson and Wallace didn't expect Chief Sharkey or me to break out of the conditioning. They obviously intended on leaving the Experiment End tape to support their claims of a valid experiment under the original parameters. But when we came to our senses, Sharkey changed the tapes, leaving some unused tapes and the messages still there. Had Sharkey stayed under the influence of his conditioning he would have no doubt erased the unused tapes.”

Chip balled a fist, resisting the urge to pound it into the wall in substitution for the scientists he wanted to deck about now.

“What now?” he asked. “Surely you've got enough to charge them and make it stick.”

“We do, but Commander Crane was right. Their motive for doing this doesn't make sense unless they were working for someone else.” He turned and paced a moment before stopping in front of the two-way mirror, studying Larson and Wallace whispering to one another in the briefing room.

“Here's what we're going to do; first off search warrants?” he said looking toward Baker for his answer.

“Already in hand, we’ve got a team going over bank accounts, Parker is headed over to the check out the safety deposit box and we’ve started on the usual places, except Wallace’s place. We’re waiting for your okay since his wife is home.”

“Good, I’m going for ‘behind the scenes’ stuff here. We’ll get to their homes once they’ve been charged. Right now I'm going for the big picture, a treason charge. To do that I need to know who their employer is, so we're going to release them and before you pop a gasket over there Commander, they'll be well-covered with a tail,” Davidson said offering a smile for his blunt words. “But before I release him, I'm going to let out some sad news in the case. It would seem that our injured officer has taken a turn for the worse and isn't expected to survive the night. And that's where I'll need your help Admiral Nelson.”

“Got it,” Baker said with a fervent nod.

“I think you're going to reel them in, Agent Davidson, and I just want to be here to see it when you do,” Harry said determined.

* * * * *

The urge to kill Nelson was strong, like he had no other purpose in life but to stop the man who would turn Seaview over to the enemy. He was the only thing standing in the way of the Admiral's sick plan; once he was dead Seaview and all her secrets would belong to a country bent on the destruction of the United States. “The only way to stop Nelson is to kill him before he kills me,” he thought as he turned the wheel and entered the pressure hatch.

Nelson was there holding an ax and apparently surprised by his sudden appearance.

“Lee? Didn't you hear me? Don't you understand? It's an experiment, Lee. We got caught up in our own experiment,” he said, pleading with Lee to come to his senses, but Lee's resolve was set. He knew nothing but “Nelson must die.” Even the reasons for Nelson's death had faded far to the back of his mind, as he was now driven purely by the need to destroy the Admiral; to kill him and render justice for Seaview, his crew, and his country.

The Admiral continued to try and reach him, but Lee wasn't buying it; for one he hadn't dropped the ax.

“Lee!” Harry pleaded, but the dark haired man advanced and then found his opening as Lee pulled the trigger. The whiff of the pneumatically charged gun fired off the projectile with extreme force. The spear gun was meant to sail through the resistance of water and pierce the leather like skin of a shark, not to be used on a man at close range. The result was devastating, with blood splattering all over the bulkhead and even on him as he stood holding the gun in his hand. The spear lodged deep into the Admiral's chest, piercing his lung and sucking life from him with every ragged breath he expelled in pain. Harry immediately fell to his knees as Lee stood over him, watching him die. He had no remorse; he had done what had to be done... no jury in the world would convict him.

“Why Lee?” Harry asked as he fell to the deck and curled in his pain with the spear penetrating clear through to his back, but Lee had no mercy, towering over him and offering no comfort for the traitor.

Harry wheezed, and with his last breath uttered his final words, “I forgive you, Lad.”

As soon as Lee heard the last breath leave Nelson's body the experiment ended; Nelson was dead and justice had been rendered. Upon that realization, he was free of all subliminal suggestions and fell to his knees realizing he had just killed Harry in cold blood. The blood around the room glowed like neon; he looked at his hands to see they were bloody too. There was blood everywhere, declaring his guilt... he had killed his best friend.

“I killed him! Oh God no! I killed him,” he cried reaching for Harry and rocking his dead body back and forth.

“I didn't mean to Sir... I swear I didn't mean to...” he sobbed trying to comfort the dead Admiral as if he could hear him. “What have I done?” he asked himself over and over...

Doctor Jamieson stood over his patient watching the strong sedative take effect. Lee's agitation started to fall off with his wretched sobs fading and slurring his final words as he faded into a deep sleep... “What have I done?”

He sighed as Lee finally descended past the near-awake stage where dreams are rendered and back to the darkness of a deep restorative sleep. He hadn't expected Lee to struggle to wake this much; his physical exhaustion should have been enough to keep him out without the aid of sedatives, but clearly Lee was trying to swim back to consciousness. Jamie had administered mild sedatives earlier, but this time he administered a strong dose to keep Lee under and he hoped, far from the nightmares. But he couldn't keep it up for long, eventually Lee would wake and he would have no physical reason to keep him sedated. If the Admiral didn't have any news for them by tomorrow morning he'd have no choice but to allow Lee to wake and begin the process of dealing with the emotional fall-out that any man would feel knowing he tried to kill his best friend.

Chapter Fourteen

A Ghostly Encounter

“Just keep your cool, Grant,” Larson admonished trying to look calm as they were no doubt being observed through a two-way mirror.

“But they know about my trip to South America.”

“Which was explained quite easily as a vacation. They haven't got anything to hold us on. Sooner or later they're going to have to accept that their golden boy blew a gasket and knocked off his boss. Now don't blow it, we're almost home free,” Larson said, smiling as if they were discussing the weather in pleasant conversation as they continued to wait for Davidson’s okay to leave.

“Thanks for waiting gentlemen. If there's nothing more you can tell me, you're free to go, but I'd appreciate it if you contact me if you think of anything else. Our team should be done at the laboratory and I want to express my heartfelt thanks for allowing us to investigate every possibility. I'm afraid right now this investigation has taken several unfortunate turns.”

“How so?” Larson asked with innocent eyes.

“It started out as an investigation into an experiment sanctioned by the US government that went terribly amiss, and has moved to the possibility of attempted murder. I'm afraid it may soon be an investigation of premeditated murder.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Wallace asked with narrowed eyes.

“Our officer in the hospital has taken a turn for the worse. He's not expected to make it through the night.”

“Oh,” Wallace breathed out. “Poor Nelson, who would have ever thought?” he shook his head, not finishing the thought as everyone agreed.

“Thank you again, and I do need for the both of you to remain available for further questions. If you care to wait outside, I'll have an agent return you to the laboratory.”

“Absolutely Agent Davidson,” Larson said extending a hand. “You've handled this most professionally and we'll do everything we can to help you find out why Crane snapped.”

“Thank you,” Davidson replied shaking their hands. Once they left the room and were well down the hall, the senior agent turned toward the mirror and nodded, knowing that Admiral Nelson was on the other side, ready to do his part to see the two scientists get their just rewards.

* * * * *

“There, you see?” Larson said as they walked outside and took in a breath of freedom while they waited for their ride.

“Good news all the way around. Once Nelson dies, how long until we're paid?” Wallace asked greedily in a whisper.

“As agreed, the sale of our stake in the dummy corporation will yield us the cash with everything seeming quite legal and above board. You'll be on the plane in no time, my friend... but I do hope you'll return to further our work.”

“I'll have to think about that,” Wallace admitted. “I found the experience to be oddly exciting and satisfying but I'm not sure I'm cut out for all the intrigue,” he finished in a side whisper before stopping and smiling at the approaching agent.

“Dr. Larson, Dr. Wallace; I'm Agent Sanchez. If you'll come with me I'll return you to your lab.”

“But of course Agent Sanchez,” Larson replied, feeling very comfortable that everything was going according to plan.

Meanwhile, two cars were already on their way to the lab; one with Agent Baker and Chip, the other with Agent Davidson and Harry.

“Sanchez will take the long way in, the traffic will naturally slow him down and give us a chance to get into position,” Larson advised as Harry nodded. He had already decided he liked the lead agent, and he was equally sure he liked his plan.

Larson glanced at his watch and smiled. “The call should be coming in just about now.”

* * * * *

“Agent Two-Niner-Four; respond.”

Sanchez reached for the radio mic to answer. “This is Two-Niner-Four; go ahead.”

“After you're through there Pete, Davidson wants you to head over to the holding tank.”

“Crane? What's up?”

“It looks like the charge just got more serious... we just lost Nelson.”

“Damn. Okay, will do. Two-Niner-Four out.”

In the back seat Wallace barely kept the smile from creeping up the corners of his mouth. Never in his whole life did he think he would be happy at the notice of another man's death, but this was what he had signed up for from the very beginning. The cash would be forthcoming; his wife would get her treatment; and he might just continue this fascinating work with Larson after all. He had some other ideas for mind-bending that he wanted to explore. Yes, with Larson's reinforcement and sensory discipline techniques and his drug developments they would become giants in the arena of subliminal brainwashing.

* * * * *

“I hope you don't mind if I let you off at the front door,” Sanchez apologized. “I really need to get back to the investigation.”

“No, no. Of course not, Agent Sanchez. We'll just finish up our work before calling it a day.”

“Thank you doctor.” Sanchez smiled and waved for good measure, leaving Wallace and Larson as they reached for the door.

“It's locked,” Larson announced, reaching for his keys.

“In the middle of the day?” Wallace asked.

Larson opened the door to an unusually dark lobby. “Where's Belinda?” he asked perturbed that the receptionist had not only left her post, but it would appear her station was shut down for afternoon.

“Perhaps Agent Davidson sent them home while they finished up their investigation?” Wallace offered as the hallways were all darkened as well.

“I guess so,” Larson agreed and then turned toward Wallace and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Well, they can look here all day and not find anything that would cause Captain Crane to turn violent against Admiral Nelson,” he joked sardonically, his words intentionally twisted as they had already removed the evidence NIS needed to prove any wrongdoing on their part.

Wallace laughed, then drew in his chuckles and looked down the darkened hallway reaching for the light and flipping it on. “When will you make contact?”

“Well do it right now.”

Larson headed for his office with Wallace following behind.

“I guess everyone's gone,” Wallace noticed.

“Good, the more privacy the better,” Larson said, sitting down and thumbing through his rolodex. He dialed the number on the card and waited. The call was picked up by a message machine as Larson spoke cryptically. “It's confirmed. Sell stock for both Larson and Wallace. Wire money as agreed.”

It all sounded like a legitimate business deal, but Larson had just confirmed Admiral Nelson's death and requested payment for their services through the sale of their interests in a dummy corporation.

He hung up the phone and pushed back, reclining his chair back in a “That's-that” fashion as Wallace smiled in relief.

“Well now, I'll go get some things cleared away on my desk and bring a few notes to work on while down south.” He planned on staying around until NIS cleared his travel to remain off their radar, but with the news of Nelson passing and their interest now turning toward Crane, he felt they would be on their way soon.

“Then you're planning on returning to continue our work?”

“Yes. I think we still have a lot of work to do,” Wallace said, losing his nervousness of earlier and finding his resolve once again to continue in their menacing work.

“Good, why don't we finish up and go home early. Pick up a bottle of champagne for you and Marsha,” Larson suggested.

“I might just do that,” he returned, leaving his partner's office and whistling as he walked down the hall.

About half-way down the hallway the light suddenly switched off. Without any windows it was dark and shadowy, as Wallace turned and looked back toward the light switch he had just turned on. He sighed and continued down the hall, as there was a second switch there and he was more than three quarters of the way there anyway. He took a few steps and saw a figure standing at the end of the hall. Wallace squinted, pushing his black rim glasses up further on his nose to try and see the features of the man at the end of the hall. He was shorter than Larson and seemed to be wearing a cap of some kind, something he'd never seen Larson wear.

“Who's there?” he asked but the figure turned the corner and the light switched back on. Wallace rubbed a hand across his chin. “Night watchman,” he muttered to himself, even though the security service wasn't scheduled until much later that night.

He continued walking when he heard a door close up ahead. As was the case before, Wallace's lighted path down the hallway was interrupted as the light switched off once again.

“Now I don't find this very funny at all,” he shouted into the darkness. A small stream of light spilled from an open door and the figure appeared again. This time Wallace could make out his features in the shadows.

He gasped audibly, pulling in more air than he could process and almost hyperventilated.

“Nelson?”

The figure didn't speak, but nodded slowly and eerily.

“No. You're dead,” Wallace said trying to convince himself.

“He just kept coming and coming,” the figure said in a low frightening voice. “He was a… killing machine,” he continued enunciating the last two word before turning and motioning Wallace to follow him.

Wallace swallowed hard. The words “killing machine” were exactly the words Larson had used to describe Crane; they had both laughed at the extreme mind bending they had done to achieve that feat.

“I don't believe in ghosts,” Wallace yelled back, finding his voice and taking a shaky step toward the light up ahead. The truth was, the hall behind him was pitch black and he didn't want to take a chance in bumping into anything supernatural on the way out.

He rounded the corner and spotted the figure standing in the shadowy halls in front of an open door. Wallace recognized the room and gulped. He didn't speak this time but swung an arm toward the door in a clear invitation, then moved down the hall and out of Wallace's sight.

Slowly Wallace approached the room, the broom closet. He rounded the open door and peered inside hoping the specter, for he knew it was Nelson’s spirit, wasn't waiting inside. He stumbled forward to see that the broom closet had been emptied once again to reveal the three by eight-foot conditioning room.

“Nelson!” he yelled, “It wasn't me... I was just doing it for my wife,” he said. “I would never hurt a fly,” he yelled, conveniently forgetting the part about enjoying his part in breaking Admiral Nelson to his will and filling his mind with lies against Crane.

He was only a foot into the room, but the loud blaring buzzer shocked him, followed by painful bright lights as he stumbled back a step, desperate to escape his own mind bending technique.

“Let's begin again,” was heard by the same voice they had used to condition Seaview's officers. As soon as he heard her voice he high-tailed it out and leaned heavily against the wall in the hallway. From inside the room he could hear Crane's programming playing, shuddering as he listened and paralyzed in fear.

“Admiral Nelson is a traitor. He has been bought by money and power to do a terrible, dastardly deed. He pretends to be your friend, but now you are of no more use to him. He has agreed to kill you. His bank account is now one million dollars richer because he has agreed to betray his country, kill you, and turn Seaview over to your country's enemies.”

“You sent him to kill me,” he heard in the hallway as the shadowy figure appeared again, his deep baritone voice producing an ominously dangerous voice.

“Nelson, believe me... I abhor violence,” he said, his words the complete opposite of his actions in programming the two officers to kill one another with a driving force that was unquenchable until one or the other was dead.

“Captain Crane, Nelson is trying to kill you. You must kill him first. You cannot rest until he is dead and justice has been rendered in the matter.”

The door slammed shut, followed by the sound of the electronic bolts sliding into place. Wallace was paralyzed in place, crouched on the floor with the wall behind him staring at the closed door and knowing he had programmed Nelson in a similar room.

“And what will she say?” the figure said, moving from the shadows to stand in front of the cowering scientist.

Larson looked up the dark green uniform pants legs up the coordinating military jacket with gold rings around the sleeves and all the way up to see the face of Admiral Nelson standing before him, his auburn hair peeking out from under the green service cap.

“No! No, leave Marsha out of this. It would kill her to know.”

“That you were part of a devious plan to kill me and frame Crane for my murder?” Harry asked, dropping his low, eerie tone and speaking in full voice as he stepped into the light to reveal the perfect pallor of a well and very much alive human being.

“You're... you're not dead are you?”

“You didn't answer me,” Harry said. “What will your wife say when she finds out that you traded my life for her medical treatment?”

“I didn't...” he admitted in a whisper. “It started out that way, but as soon as I got you in there... all I wanted was to break you.”

“Why?” Harry asked full of emotion.

“Because I had the power to empty you and fill you with whatever I wanted... you can't imagine the high that level of control and dominance creates.”

“You're right,” Harry replied. “I can't.”

“If I talk... will you promise me that my wife will get her treatment?”

“I won't barter your wife's health for a conviction. If she's truly innocent then I'll see to it that she receives the treatment she needs,” Harry stated. “Are you willing to go the entire distance?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Wallace swallowed and then sniffed back his emotions.

“Yes.”

* * * * *

Larson heard Wallace yelling in the hall and stepped out of his office in time to hear the projector playing in the screening room. He thought everyone had gone home and walked to the screening room to see who was there and just what they might have overheard. His first stop was the projection room, finding it empty. He was about to stop the documentary when he noticed someone sitting in the dark, his tall sitting position indicated he was over six feet tall, and the green service cap on his head gave away his position as a military officer. He looked up at the screen to see the documentary that Wallace had played for Crane, the one showing Admiral Nelson as a traitor, although it was all hidden in flash pictures sped up too far to see with the conscious mind.

The officer stood, still facing the screen as Larson realized the green uniform was exactly like Crane's, but Crane wasn't here... he was in some holding tank for killing Admiral Nelson.

“Who are you?” he said, as the officer turned around revealing blond hair and the same hard face he had seen during his questioning at the NIS field office.

“Morton? Is that you?”

“Hibernating bears are fascinating,” Chip said, “but I found something else even more fascinating.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Larson said, as the only subliminal films that NIS took from their lab were the ones that supported the original experiment parameters.

“Let me show you what I mean,” he said nodding to the projection room as the film slowed down to reveal pictures of Harry in various scenes of obvious betrayal. “Of course, these photos alone wouldn't have been enough to convince a man like Lee Crane... I imagine you had to get a little creative in order to achieve that.”

“Where... where did you get this? I've never seen this film before,” Larson stuttered out, trying to save his near confession.

“Now that's strange,” Agent Davidson observed stepping into the room, “because we accessed your safe deposit box and found some interesting notes,” he said holding up Larson's own notebook with gloved hands. “The title alone is a real eye-catcher,” he continued, turning it to reveal the experiment named, Death Watch.

“And we have this,” he added, holding up a key as Larson's countenance sunk considerably.

“I want my lawyer,” he replied calmly, closing up like a clam and realizing that they had found the key to the storage unit that held Wallace's gas and boxes full of damning evidence.

“I thought you might say that,” Davidson answered, nodding to another agent to take him into custody.

Chip watched Larson being led away, then turned and looked at the screen where a picture was still frozen; Harry was standing on Seaview's deck beside a People's Republic officer shaking hands. The PR man had obviously been superimposed, but in the flash format it would have had a devastating effect on a brainwashed man, conditioned to believe Nelson had sold out to the enemy. He turned back toward Davidson.

“Is that it?”

“We're getting full cooperation from Wallace, it seems he likes to brainwash his subjects but can't stand up to the intrigue of his dirty game. He's making a full deal with us and has promised to spill his guts with his attorney present at the office.”

Chip cracked a smile. “I'd sure like to see that.”

Davidson smiled back. “I thought you would.”

Chapter Fifteen

Wrapping It Up

Nelson was hanging by a precarious one handed hold on the crane, his legs dangling in the cold sea water as Lee lunged forward and wrestled him further into the pressure hatch. His bad shoulder, now bleeding again did nothing to help him as he held onto life with his good hand on the edge of the moon pool.

Lee was driven... driven to kill Nelson. It wasn't his crimes against the United States, or the fact that the Admiral was going to kill him... it was just an overwhelming need to end Nelson's life. He was cold, relentless, and without a moral check for his actions as he stood and began stomping on Nelson's hand.

The first stomp elicited a pained cry from Nelson, but it did nothing to deter him from the second stomp as Lee felt bones break under his foot. The third stomp did it as Nelson lost his hold and slid into the depths. Immediately upon his disappearance in the dark waters, Lee was released and stood blinking at the moon pool. The realization of his actions finally caught up with him as he screamed for Harry. He leaned over reaching as far into the pool as he could, hoping to find something left of Harry to grab onto, but he was gone. He was lost to the depths, probably crushed by the pressure even before drowning.

Lee sat by the side of the moon pool devastated by his own actions... he had killed Harriman Nelson... he had killed his best friend...

Lee's head tossed side to side, then finally with all the measure a sedative spiked sleeping man could muster, he was able to shake himself from the nightmare. His eyes popped opened, immediately followed by sitting straight up as he blinked to bring his awareness into focus. The dream was still vivid, and at least part of it was true, but as his senses returned he realized it was only a dream; Harry was still alive. Slowly he lowered himself back down and stared at the ceiling for a moment, thinking over the last few days. He had all his memories, nothing was lost to him as he recalled Larson's conditioning room, the lies, and her damn voice making him believe things he knew weren't true. He balled a fist, but resisted slamming it into the mattress, reaching instead for the controls to raise the head of his bed and take stock of his surroundings.

Med Bay.

By the looks of the drape covered window it was early morning. How long had he been sleeping? He took stock of himself and realized he wasn't injured, but was still sporting an IV. He found no other intrusive medical devices attached to his body and realized that a trip to the head was in order. He swung his legs over and waited a moment for any sign of dizziness and was glad to note none. Not wanting to risk Jamie's ire, he didn't pull his IV and instead rolled it into the head. He took care of business then found the robe hanging in the closet and scowled when he didn't see a change of clothes, so he headed back to the bed and pressed the “call” button.

The door opened and he expected to see a nurse, but was greeted to the “what the heck” look from Seaview's Chief Medical Officer.

“Hi Jamie,” Lee said, offering a small smile, the one he gave when he knew he had beaten whatever sleep cocktail his doctor had dreamt up for him.

Jamie sighed, then smiled to see Lee looking so “together” sitting on his bed in a fluffy blue robe. “I didn't expect you awake for another few hours.”

“I'm feeling pretty good. If you don't mind, I'd like to shed the IV and get dressed.”

“The IV was just precautionary, we can lose that no problem,” he said, smiling but Lee picked up on his concern.

“What's bothering you Jamie?”

Jamieson sighed. “I'm trying to decide if you're too together, you've been through quite a bit Lee, and I just want to make sure you're not hiding behind a cool exterior while you're being torn up inside.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I'm mad as hell at what Larson and Wallace did. I remember every bit of the conditioning and other than the usual nightmares there's nothing to do but deal with it. As for the “guilt” of nearly killing my commanding officer, well that's something that he and I will work through privately.” He sighed, then continued. “I'm not scarred for life, Jamie, just a little battle worn,” he said, trying to be as transparent as his need for privacy would allow.

Jamie nodded. “Alright, but you and the Admiral will talk about this,” Jamie ordered.

“I imagine we both have some things to say, regrets that need to be aired, but the important thing is we beat it... together.”

“Thank you for being so forthright, Skipper,” Jamie said sincerely, knowing Lee was giving him more than his standard answer of “fine.” “Let's get that IV taken care of and a solid meal in your system first. I have your change of clothes in my office.”

“Didn't trust me to put it in this closet?” Lee joked with a grin.

“Frankly, no.” Jamie deadpanned, but then chuckled. “Now how about that meal? I'll recheck your vitals and if everything looks good we can talk about a discharge and the terms of thereof.”

“What about the Admiral? Is he okay?” Lee asked, knowing he had shot Harry in the shoulder and had exposed him to a dangerous and potentially lethal gas.

“He's going to be fine Lee, in fact, he and Chip spent the day down south working with NIS.”

Lee's head shot up. “What did they find out?”

“You can ask him yourself. He'll be by within the hour. Now hit the shower and I'll have your clothes ready for you by the time you're through.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Lee said firing off a salute to Jamie's roll of the eyes and smiled as Seaview's doctor left the room. His smile faded as he considered all he'd told Jamieson. It was all true, but Jamie had it pegged right. On the inside, he was still beating himself up for letting it happen... again. He shook off the thought and headed to the shower in his room, that was step one to freedom and enough solitude to deal with what happened in private.

* * * * *

Harry entered the room, having knocked and received an invitation to enter. He was relieved to see Lee in civvies and standing at the window holding a cup of coffee.

“Admiral,” Lee greeted, clearly happy to see him and looking him over for any signs of discomfort. He had already noted the sling was gone and was relieved to see Harry doing so well. The Admiral was followed by Chip and another man.

Chip reached for a handshake. “How are you doing Lee?”

“Much better, Dr. Jamieson is just about ready to spring me.”

“Good,” Harry said, pleased to see him up and around. “This is the senior agent handling the investigation for NIS, Agent Davidson.”

They shook hands as Lee spoke. “I'm anxious to hear about it.”

“I'll need your statement as well, Commander; but first, I'm sure you'll be very interested in hearing the recent developments in the case.”

“Absolutely,” Lee replied, his decorum refined and his shoulders squared. “Would you care to have a seat,” he asked offering the two chairs at the table near the window. “Chip, see if you can scare up a few more chairs.”

Chip nodded and left as Lee leaned against the wall waiting what he hoped was good news.

“Both Wallace and Larson are in custody and charged with everything I can think of, right up to and including Treason.”

Chip returned dragging two chairs, with Lee taking one off his hands and sitting at the table very interested as Davidson proceeded to explain in detail the events of the day before.

“Larson has shut up like a clam, but between Dr. Wallace's full confession and the films and notes we found, we're well on our way to a successful conviction.”

“What about their employer?” Lee asked with his hands folded in front of him as he leaned forward.

“Well you were right about that from the start. Wallace only knew the employer's name; Larson handled all the contacts and since he isn't talking it looks like he's scot free at this point.”

“And who might that be?” Lee asked, feeling that Davidson was stalling in answering.

“Dr. Gamma,” Harry answered as Lee blew a disgusted breath and sat back, clearly perturbed.

“Well that answers who our common enemy in all this was,” he replied, shaking his head at yet another run in with the evil crime boss.

“Yes, and as is always the case where Gamma is concerned, he's hidden his tracks well. And based upon our past experience, even if Larson decides to cut a deal, I doubt he has the knowledge to charge Gamma, let alone locate him.”

“I understand,” Lee said, having had too many run-ins with the evil mastermind bent on world domination in the past. “What about the woman?” he asked, just as interested in her part as the scientists and Gamma.

“We found the key in Larson's safe deposit box to a storage unit. It was full evidence in this case, including samples of the drugs that were used on you and mounds of paperwork. We're still wading through the paper trail evidence, but it would seem that the young lady is in the direct employ of Dr. Gamma. Wallace never saw her, the script for her recordings were professionally produced by Gamma's organization and tweaked at the scientist's request until it was what they wanted. But Dr. Larson indicated to Wallace that she was very close to Gamma, what their relationship is we're not sure, but whoever she is, she carried her own authority apparently sanctioned by Gamma. It appears she's being groomed as Gamma's protégé. Wallace only knew her by her first name, Karina.”

“Gamma doesn't share his power with anyone,” Lee noted, looking over at Harry as he spoke. “What would be your guess Admiral? She couldn't be much older than her mid-twenties judging by her voice.”

“It's hard to tell of course, but I'd be inclined to agree with you.”

“I submit that Karina is more than a beautiful young woman who's gotten Gamma's attention.”

“What are you getting at, Commander?”

“Knowing Gamma's power hungry narcissist and megalomaniac personality, I'd say she's his daughter.”

“That's quite the speculation,” Davidson replied.

“I know, but I can't see him sharing power with anyone not of his blood, not that he wouldn't cut off anyone who gets too powerful, blood relation or not. It doesn't matter at this point, since we can't bring them in, but we need to at least consider the possibility for Gamma's ever growing profile.”

“It's a wild speculation, but plausible,” Davidson conceded. “But it's just as possible she's a competent evil doer like himself, or even a love interest. Whatever it is, I'll be sure to add your speculation to my report; I'm aware that you've had firsthand experience with Gamma.”

“Bottom line is Gamma and this Karina woman are getting off scot free, but at least Wallace and Larson's little shop of horrors will be shut down.”

“I'm convinced of that. Now if you're feeling up to it, Commander, I'd like to get your statement.”

“Very well,” Lee replied.

“Would you like to do this in private?” Davidson offered.

Lee nodded without having to think about his answer. “That won't be necessary,” he replied, showing all the inner strength he had always displayed and knowing he could trust everything that happened with the two officers he was privileged to call “friends.”

Epilogue

A New Nemesis

Lee had taken several days off at Jamie's insistence but was ready to get busy with the repairs aboard Seaview, as his and Harry's mad attempts at killing one another had left a path of mayhem that spanned the entire boat. His first priority was the dismantling of the Automatic Warning System and the super computer that ran Seaview during the experiment. The Admiral was right, without the AWS one of them wouldn't have made it, but he much preferred the klaxons. Even if it hadn't been Karina's voice, he would have opted for the removal of the device.

Agent Davidson was still wrapping up the case, but Lee was only too happy to let NIS take the lead so he could get back to doing what he really wanted; the business of running a privately owned nuclear submarine.

He was far from “okay” with the situation, but as he had told Jamie, there was nothing to do now but deal with it. In the end, he and Harry both trusted each other explicitly and agreed that if either could have prevented the resulting brainwashing they would have. They simply couldn't overcome the stacked deck that Wallace and Larson's conditioning with subliminal reinforcement had dealt. Each had to accept the fact that they were human and as such, were just as able to succumb to the scientist's demented scheme as anyone.

Sharkey had suffered the least as his conditioning was less severe, but Lee was careful to make sure he had the opportunity to discuss his feelings in the matter as well. As he expected, the Chief rebounded as strong as ever, and if it hadn't been for his ability to break out of the conditioning, Lee might have been successful in his quest.

All concerned agreed that the most ironic thing in this whole mess was that it was the post subliminal suggestion that Larson had inadvertently programmed into Lee concerning justice that eventually broke the case wide open. Larson had clearly meant for Lee to be driven until his own sense of justice regarding Harry was satisfied; he couldn't have guessed that Lee's subconscious would turn that same sense of justice around to include the evil scientist and his partner.

Lee finished the report on his desk and was ready to take a walk about the Boat to monitor the repairs when his intercom rang.

“Captain Crane, there's a young lady on the phone who says she's an old friend of yours, but she declined to give her name.”

Lee rubbed his chin not knowing who it could possibly be and replied. “That's fine Miss Wells, I'll take the call,” he answered curiously.

He waited for the phone to ring and then answered. “Crane.”

“Captain Crane, Harriman Nelson wants to kill you...”

Lee stood up slamming a hand on the desk in front of him at the recognition of “her” voice mocking him with the instructions she had used to brainwash him in the experiment. He could only guess that Gamma was trying to intimidate him, to make him pay for the failure of his grand scheme dubbed, “Death Watch”.

Not on my watch, Gamma! Lee thought resolutely.

“No!” he interrupted abruptly. “Let's begin again, Karina. I've got a message for your boss; I'm going to hunt both him and you down until you pay for what you did, and I won't rest until justice has been rendered in the matter. You tell him that,” he said darkly, slamming the phone down and leaning heavily on his desk, breathing hard for the emotion her call had elicited.

He breathed in his anger and then placed a call to his secretary, advising her to start the process of tracing the call the moment she heard her voice again, but Karina didn't call back. Lee didn't stick around to find out however, as he headed straight to the sub pen. He climbed down the ladder and headed for the Admiral's Front porch, closing the crash doors behind him. He stared out the windows even though they were docked in the underground sub pen and sighed, allowing his Gray Lady to speak to him. She was the only one who could calm his anger and speak peace to him as her “voice” drowned out the sound of Karina's mockery. He smiled and rubbed an appreciative hand on her bulkhead.

“Thank you,” he whispered, then squared his shoulders, opened the crash doors and set about his business of supervising Seaview's repairs.

The End

Till Justice is Rendered

Credits:

* See my story, Breach of Trust, posted 10-23-15, a second season story. Lee and Harry undertake an important mission to protect a continent from a dangerous bomb, but will a breach of trust cost them everything?

Third Season episode; The Death Watch, written by William Welch, directed by Leonard Horn, original airdate November 13, 1966.

First Season episode; The Saboteur, written by George Reed (William Reed Woodfield), directed by Felix Feist, original airdate February 22, 1965 Episode credits sourced from Mike's Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea Zone

Penicillin allergy and Jamie's impressive medical knowledge courtesy of the resources of Wikipedia.

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/penicillin-allergy/basics/treatment/con-20024205

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/penicillin-allergy/basics/symptoms/CON-20024205

Author's Note:

In the way of my storyline continuity, this story occurs before my season four story, Duty's Reward, posted 10-18-13, where Lee finally brings in Gamma, though not Karina as she hadn't been thought up yet. But I foresee a new nemesis in Lee's growing list of enemies to deal with in the future (hint: plot bunny alert!). : )