This story is a Second Season, high seas adventure with several (you've been warned!) mushy and sentimental scenes. ; )

When Danger Calls

by Lynn

He laid on the deck feeling every break and bruise. It was hard to breathe as he counted down the minutes until the boat was boarded. He had done everything he could, executing an emergency blow to get the 425 foot ballistic submarine to the surface. He sabotaged the pumps, and the propulsion system was down with the power rendering the great vessel bearing 16 nuclear missiles, including the new Trident Missiles, dead in the water. He had missed several radio checks, now all he could do was wait and see who got here first; the People's Republic or the United States Navy.

* * * * *

Lee Crane sat aboard the Navy helicopter wearing his Service Dress Whites. The helicopter was on its way to rendezvous with the USS Davy Crockett SSBN-646, a ballistic submarine currently gliding stealthily in the Pacific Ocean and making a slow cruise from the Aleutian Islands to her ultimate destination, Pearl Harbor. She was on the final leg of her cruise before the Gold Crew would turn the boat over to the Blue Crew. Captain Matthew Derrick was bringing his boat in for the last time, as he had just received his notification of his transfer to Washington DC, and a brand new star to go with his new duties as the Navy's newest Admiral. His new rank would be presented within the next month, this information making Lee's duty all the more difficult.

The helicopter hovered over the rounded deck of the submarine as Lee jumped the two feet from the helicopter to the deck. He proceeded toward the Sail hatch, where Captain Matthew Derrick stood with his XO, Lt. Commander Ron Watson. Lee dropped his duffel bag and saluted sharply handing his orders to Captain Derrick as he stood at attention, staring past the captain as he read. Derrick's blue eyes rose to Lee's in question and unbelief.

“Lee, what's the meaning of this?” He asked incredulously.

“Sir, I have the Con, you are relieved of duty as per the orders presented, Sir.” Lee's formal naval decorum revealed the seriousness of the matter. Just then two Marines hopped from the helicopter and stood flanking the side door.

Captain Derrick's look of shock was full of pain as if he had been betrayed by the Navy, by his superiors, and by Lee Crane, someone he used to call 'friend'. Derrick remembered his duty and found his military decorum as well, even though he had just been blind-sided by having his boat taken from him in the middle of a mission and being relieved of his command for some unnamed “National Security” reason.

“Very well Commander Crane. I am relieved, you have the Con.” He passed the orders back to Lee as he reached around his neck pulling off the chain and keys, handing them over as well. Then he moved with dignity toward the helicopter, hopping into the belly of the craft as the two Marine “guards” followed him in.

Lee stared straight ahead and didn't even watch as Captain Derrick left his command in disgrace. Lee heard the helicopter lift off and then turned toward the Exec handing him the orders.

“Mr. Watson, ready the sub to dive. I'll make a boat wide announcement once we're underway.” With that Lee moved towards the conning tower hatch carrying his duffel bag and proceeded down into the Control Room.

Ron Watson read the orders and looked up as he watched the helicopter fly away. He was alone on the deck and allowed a small smile to cross his face. This was going to be a lot easier than he expected. Killing Derrick for his nuclear keys and the command codes found in the Captain's safe would have been difficult with the crew as loyal as they were. But now with Crane on-board... His smile widened, and then he schooled it back and headed down the hatch to execute his orders and stir up a little trouble.

* * * * *

The wondering eyes of the crew watched as a “new” captain took command. Their astonished faces were apparent as they realized that Derrick was no longer on-board. The XO's demeanor indicated that all was not well as the orders were given and executed and the Davy Crockett submerged.

“Sir, the boat is at 60 feet, bearing course 1-2-0, running at one-third as ordered,” Watson reported crisply, and with a hint of disdain. Not enough to be disrespectful, but enough to let his superior officer know that he wasn't happy with the recent turn of events.

“Very well Mr. Watson.” Lee reached for the mic and double clicked it, clearing all channels.

“This is Commander Crane. Captain Derrick has been relieved of his duty and I have assumed his Command as per orders of the Secretary of the United States Navy. You will be expected to continue to conduct yourselves with the professionalism and competence that is expected of all Navy personnel. That is all. Carry on.”

Lee hung up the microphone and addressed the XO, “Mr. Watson, you have the Con, I'll be in my quarters.”

Several of the seamen's heads turned as Lee referred to the Captain's quarters as his; their dislike for the Navy Officer becoming more apparent.

“Aye Sir, would you like an escort to the Captain's Quarters?”

Watson's remark was met with Lee's command glare, “No need Mr. Watson, I know my way around a ballistic submarine.” Lee picked up his duffel bag and headed out the aft hatch and toward the ladder to the Captain's quarters. As he walked, he was well aware of the eyes boring holes through the back of his head as he exited the Control Room. So far, so good. If Watson felt secure in the crew's dislike for him, the XO would be all the more ready to continue with his plan, and this is what ONI needed.

Lee entered into his old friend's cabin. Matthew Derrick was Lee's captain aboard the USS Casimir Pulaski when they got those crazy orders to insert and extract an ONI Operative into the Soviet Union. The orders were highly unusual in that the role of a ballistic submarine was nuclear deterrence. They roamed the seas keeping their payload of nuclear weapons available at a moment's notice for the President's order to launch. It was an ominous job, but the seriousness of the deterrence found in the Nuclear Triad, missiles launched by land, by sea, and by air, had kept the peace in the nuclear age. Ballistic subs, or 'boomers' as they are most often referred to, are longer and not suited for the job of covert missions. Besides, their payload of missiles dictated they stay out of sight, not surfacing off the coast of unfriendly nations to deploy special operations. And so both Derrick and his Exec, Lt. Commander Lee Crane, had been very surprised to be ordered to surface, take on an operative by helicopter and then head for the Soviet Union's easterly shoreline and insert the operative into the field. The information they were after had to be pretty important to take the chance of using the Pulaski and not waiting for a fast attack sub.

On the way to the rendezvous coordinates, Captain Derrick started showing signs of illness. First, nauseousness, then cramps and a fever. Then he collapsed, writhing in pain. “Doc” their corpsman diagnosed the captain with a ruptured appendix, and so as they took on the operative they also put off their captain for emergency surgery. Lee continued the mission as acting captain and successfully inserted and extracted the operative while hiding the large submarine off the coastline and evading a passing Soviet patrol. In the end, the harrowing mission was a success and Lee earned personal Bravo Zulus, including a promotion and his own command.

Lee looked around his old friend's cabin, he hoped Matt would forgive him once he found out what was going on. Lee proceeded to unpack his uniforms and gear and purposefully took down Derrick's personal belongings, putting them into the closet. He was sure that the gesture wouldn't be missed by any visitors he had. They had two weeks left on this voyage, and if Watson were to go through with his plans to hijack the boat and steal her new Trident Missiles then it would have to be soon.

* * * * *

Lee stood at the chart table signing off on the Captain's Log Book on-board the ballistic submarine, the Davy Crockett. The command change had been a difficult one these last few days. The crew was hostile, keeping their communications with Lee curt and formal. Lee had thick skin, it wasn't the first time he had been disliked, but he didn't put up with obvious tones of disrespect, having already called a few seamen on their attitudes. He had a job to do, and he expected them to do their jobs as well. They whipped into shape, keeping their tones just within the acceptable boundaries of naval decorum. Lee smiled inside, Derrick had a good crew. He could only guess what kind of reception his crew would give in a similar circumstance, though he truly hoped his crew would be professional in the matter.

He turned over the Con to the Officer of the Deck and headed to his cabin to work up his reports before dinner. Dinners had been a lonely affair, as Lee ate every meal alone in the Wardroom. He would have preferred to take his meals in his cabin, but he didn't want the officers and crew to perceive any weakness on his part. He was the captain, they would just have to get used to it. Food was actually the last thing on his mind as he reached his cabin however. What he really needed was to make radio contact. He had the boat running at 60 feet so that he could make use of the radio antennae. Every six hours he sent a short transmission that indicated all was well. If he missed a transmission, then Johnson would call off the entire mission and secure the boat.

Lee sent the transmission and sat back leaning his head back on the chair. This mission had been taxing, but at least he didn't have to “pretend” to be someone else. Because of that fact, he allowed himself just a few moments to think about Seaview, her crew, and his friends, Chip and Harry. As he thought about Harry he had to smile. He wasn't happy about the mission, Lee's role, or the lack of back-up. He remembered the fire in Harry's eyes as he relayed the details of Johnson's video call before he boarded the helicopter.

Lee had found himself being called up from the Reserves a lot as of late, much to the chagrin of his boss, Admiral Harriman Nelson. He suspected Johnson knew that Harry's patience was running thin, as Lee had more than satisfied his Active Duty requirements for the Reserves in his latest ONI missions not to mention Seaview's Active Duty missions. So when Johnson video phoned Harry with the latest request, he wasn't surprised when Harry let the head of ONI have it with both barrels.

“Blast it Gerald, are you telling me that ONI doesn't have any qualified operatives in your coffers that you have to continually call up my Captain? He's barely been off the sick list six weeks since your last 'request' of his time,” Harry bellowed in a way that only a fellow Admiral of equal stars could do to another Admiral.

“I'm well aware of Commander Crane's medical file Harriman, and yes we have plenty of qualified ONI operatives to call upon, but in this particular case we're running short of Operatives with nuclear submarine command experience.”

Johnson's facetious remark peaked Nelson's curiosity as he leaned forward with his hands folded on his desk waiting for Gerald's explanation.

“I need Crane to investigate a vital matter of national security, I'm afraid our Intel suggests one of our own aboard a boomer Harriman.”

Harry nodded, couldn't be too dangerous on board a boat full of United States Navy men. “Alright Gerald, how long do you expect the mission to last?”

“It should go down within the next two weeks, although with the bait we put out, perhaps sooner.”

At that Harry showed his disgust with a hand slap on his desk, “He'll miss another voyage Gerald, I hope you can tell me when it's done that it was worth it.”

“Harriman, if we don't put a lid on this then I might be calling Seaview up from the Reserves...to fight a war.”

Harry breathed in deeply, remembering he was a retired naval officer and relaxed his demeanor.

“Alright Gerald, but how deep undercover can he go? He's the youngest sub commander in the fleet, it's not like he's not known to the Navy boys.”

“He'll go in under a TDY* aboard Matthew Derrick's boat, The Davy Crockett.”

Harry chuckled, “What does Derrick have to say about having an ONI Operative on-board?”

“He doesn't know. Matthew Derrick is being relieved of his command so that we can insert Lee,” Johnson’s face was stone cold as Harry understood the seriousness of matter.

“What aren't you telling me Gerald?”

“We have credible intel to suggest that Lt. Commander Ron Watson is planning to eliminate Captain Derrick and is planning to turn over his Ballistic Missile submarine to the highest bidder.”

Harry's eyebrows tightened, as this “not so dangerous” mission aboard a US boomer just took a turn for the worse. “How credible Gerald?”

“The CIA has confirmed what our contacts have reported to us, it's going viral in the illegal arms circles right now. There are definitely negotiations going on, and it's more than possible that Derrick's Exec is running the whole deal.”

“But without the fail-safe codes, the nuclear bombs can't be activated,” Harry offered, trying to get a grasp of the seriousness of the mission. The technology of the sub was one matter, but the nukes were a whole different ball game.

“It wouldn't make a difference if the right people get hold of the bombs Harriman. They could salvage the weapon's grade uranium and place it in their own warhead and delivery device. And Harry, The Crockett has been fitted with the new Trident Missiles.”

Harry blew out a silent breath and nodded again, finally getting enough of a picture of the crisis to understand Lee's involvement.

“Alright Gerald, I'll call Lee in for your briefing.”

“Don't bother Harriman, I've already sent his orders through to your radio operator. You can fill him in on what you know. Send me coordinates and I'll have a Seahawk out to pick him up. I'll brief him on the Carrier and then we'll get him out to The Crockett. I'll need to move quickly with briefings to get Crane up to speed and ready to sail.”

Harriman didn't bother to show his lack of appreciation for Gerald arranging Lee's pick up before speaking with him. The matters at hand dictated quick action and he knew it.

“Alright Gerald, I see your point. I'd like to ask to be kept apprised of the situation as it unfolds,” Harry requested graciously.

“I thought you might Harriman. You'll know when I know. Johnson out.”

Harry leaned over and tapped off his video screen, as the ended transmission left his screen black and then sat back and sighed. It was time to send Lee off on yet another ONI mission, one that could be extremely dangerous. He leaned forward, pressing his intercom once again and hailed Seaview's Captain.

* * * * *

Harry filled Lee in and within two hours Lee was sitting in a Seahawk chopper and off to the carrier the USS Constellation for briefings.

* * * * *

Captain Matthew Derrick stepped out of the helicopter onto the carrier's deck and was immediately escorted to the pilot's briefing room. He was angry but in control. National Security issues! What National Security issues would keep him from completing his mission at sea? Someone had better do some explaining fast! Derrick entered the room and was greeted by Admiral Johnson, head of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

He stopped in his tracks, and then proceeded forward to stand in front of the Admiral as he delivered a crisp salute.

“Captain Matthew Derrick reporting as ordered, Sir.”

Johnson returned the salute and dismissed the marines who had escorted Derrick to the room. After they cleared the room Johnson spoke.

“At ease Captain.” He motioned Derrick to a table where they sat across from one another as Derrick laid his cover on the table next to him. His gray hair mixed with his dark hair presented a pleasing silver color that was accentuated by the blue-grey of his eyes. His handsome face was marred however, by the scowl that he wasn't trying to conceal at this point.

“Matthew, I'm sorry for the subterfuge on our part, but I couldn't do this any other way.”

Derrick's mouth dropped open, and then he schooled back his emotions. “Would the Admiral care to start at the beginning, Sir?”

Johnson nodded, but the seriousness of the matter kept his face stern. “We have credible and reliable intel to suggest that your life was in danger aboard the Crockett and that a plan is in motion to hijack the sub and her armament and sell it to the highest bidder.”

Derrick leaned closer, “You took me off my boat for my safety?” His voice reflective of a very angry man, “I left my boat in disgrace, pulled from her mission at mid-sea. My crew thinks I've been sand-bagged.”

“Yes, an illusion we created so that when Crane took command the plans would continue as arranged.”

“But my Executive Officer...”

“Is our prime suspect,” Johnson finished.

Derrick sat back in his chair taking in the information. “Why wasn't I notified? It's my boat, I should be there to keep her safe.”

“Matthew, you've just been confirmed by the congressional committee as an Admiral to the United States Navy. We're not going to take a chance with losing you, not when Lee Crane has the skills to bring this to a successful closure.” Johnson also sat back as he waited for Derrick's reaction.

Derrick shook his head, not ready to let go of his anger just yet, “You took me off my boat, and put Lee in...what about his safety? You just set him up you know? I had loyal crew that would have protected me, but Lee will be virtually alone.”

“We're counting on that Matthew. You've got a good crew, they won't be too helpful until they realize what's at stake. But when Lee needs them I have no doubt they'll rise to the occasion.” Johnson's eyes spoke sincerity and Derrick nodded in agreement.

“In the meantime Matthew, your uniform is waiting in your cabin, complete with a new star.”

Derrick nodded, “Yes Sir, and Admiral,” he paused, “I'm not leaving this carrier until my boat and Lee Crane are both back safely.”

Johnson cracked a smile, “I guess the ship's captain will just have to get used to having two Admirals on board.”

* * * * *

Lee finished signing off the Captain's Log Book and handed it over to the Exec, Lt. Commander Ron Watson. Watson took the Log Book as Lee passed the Con over to the XO. Watson had been operating just on the edge of Naval Decorum, but his tone was riding the line of disrespect, and that's where Lee needed it to be. He handed off the Con and left to make his transmission, he had been looking for anything unusual and so far had only been faced with a disappointed crew. But at least in the three days he'd been aboard they had started to settle into their proper places, as their naval training had dictated. Most everyone that is, except Watson. He hoped that Watson would make his move soon, he couldn't imagine the hijacking taking place too much closer to Pearl.

* * * * *

Watson accepted the log-book from Crane and nodded, “Aye Sir, I'll take care of it, Sir.” He watched Crane leave the Control Room and then walked over to the Sonar operator.

“Just look at him. He walks around like he owns this boat,” he stated darkly and just loud enough to be overheard by several of the men sitting at their stations. Most of the seamen knew their duty and their places. Talking behind the captain's back like this was very close to inciting a mutiny against the legal master and commander of the boat; but a few of the seamen did joined in.

“Yeah, I heard he was an XO, and took command one time aboard a boomer before someone promoted him and sent him to Fast Attack subs. He probably has to spend his nights reading up on the sub's operation's manuals.”

A few laughs flowed through the room, but many seamen kept their attention on their stations.

“He's the youngest Commander in the Navy, must be somebody's kid or something,” another irate seaman joined in.

“Can you believe HQ sent us a Weekend Warrior? I bet his job aboard the Seaview is so plush that he hardly remembers what it's like to work a real job anymore.”

Watson made an inward smile as he listened to the complaints working themselves around the room. The crew didn't like Crane. Fine. When Crane bought it, they would believe any story he told them. Then he'd change course and send the sub to its new coordinates. He reached down and patted his Sonar man on the shoulder. Rogers was his contact with the Peoples Republic, and the PR was paying handsomely for this boat and her missiles. Together, they were going to make a fortune.

He walked back to the Captain's Log Book, a couple more days and he would be ready to take command. His thoughts turned dark as he thought about how the Navy had treated him. Watson had expected to get his promotion to full Commander and the Captain's post when Derrick's promotion had been announced. He was passed over for both and now after operating under Derrick's shadow all this time, they hadn't even given him the duty of bringing the sub back to port. Like he couldn't handle two lousy weeks at sea! And then they send the Boy Wonder of the Navy, Lee Crane. His face turned dark, as he breathed in, and then a thin smile replaced his facial expression. He was going to enjoy taking Crane down a few pegs in the process.

* * * * *

Lee was restless, and so he did what he normally did when he was restless... he took a walk about the boat. It wasn't Seaview, but he had spent a year and half on board the Pulaski before getting his own command. The Pulaski was from the James Madison Class, and so he had to update himself on the new boat class while he was on the Carrier, but he was a quick study and found that he actually knew the boat and her capabilities quite well.

He walked the boat, getting what he expected from the crew, a few stares and then he was respectfully ignored. He did stop and ask a maintenance crew about their progress. He enjoyed the short reprieve from the last four days of being excluded from any conversations on the boat that weren't directly attached to his duty. He guided the seamen to another possible solution to their dilemma and headed back towards his cabin. He smiled inwardly when he realized that the seamen were finding it harder and harder to be angry with him. Maybe he should “Captain Bligh” it a little, but he knew that wasn't necessary. All he really needed was for Watson to be fed up enough to continue with the plans. He had done absolutely nothing to ease the tension between his XO and himself, and had even assigned him a few duties that would have normally been given to an Ensign or a JG.

As he walked along he noticed a seaman working on an electrical panel near the bottom of the bulkhead. The seaman was sitting rubbing his head trying to figure out what was wrong. Lee bent down on his knees to look in over the seaman's shoulder.

“Got a problem Tanner?” He asked easily, hoping not to intimidate the young seaman.

“No Sir. I'm mean, Yes Sir. I've got an intermittent short and I've checked every wire twice,” he answered directly.

Lee peered into the panel and then dropped down beside the seaman picking up the specs manual and thumbing through it.

“Yeah, just what I thought,” he said to himself out loud. “You see this circuit breaker?” Pointing to the small blue clip plugged into a circuit board, “It has the wrong amp rating, see? It's too small to handle the amount of current this circuit carries, but it's self-resetting due to the importance of its function causing your intermittent problem,” he noted while guiding the seaman's eyes to where his finger was pointing. The seaman looked intently and then took the manual from Lee's hands as he studied it closer.

“Wow, Sir! How did you spot that?” He asked, pretty much forgetting that he was supposed to be mad at the officer.

“When you've done enough trouble shooting, you learn to spot these things. Experience is the best teacher, the next time it'll be one of the first things you check.” Lee stood up with a soft smile as he left the seaman to finish his work. “Carry on Tanner.”

Tanner watched Captain Crane as he walked down the corridor. He hadn't even flinched at getting his summer white service uniform dirty as he sat down at his level to inspect the panel. The short sleeve, open collared white uniform usually kept the officer's at a distance from the dirt and grease. Then, he knew what amp rating the circuit breaker should have had on this obscure panel. And on top of all that, Captain Crane knew his name! Tanner shook his red head. It didn't quite add up to what he heard some of the guys saying about Captain Derrick's replacement. It's not like you get to pick your posts in the Navy. Tanner reached inside his electrician's kit and pulled out the correct circuit breaker, checking its amp rating and replacing it in the panel. He rechecked his wires and closed the panel. Maybe the guys need to start cutting the captain some slack, he thought as he collected his gear and moved on.

* * * * *

Lee sent off his transmission check. If he needed help, he'd send a different pattern, otherwise the short message was enough to let ONI know that the mission was still a go. He started to stand up when he noticed a strange smell accompanied by the start of a headache. His eyes squinted as he coughed and headed toward the door. By the time he made it out into the hall he was coughing and reaching for his head.

“Captain!”

Lee heard a seaman's voice, but it was just on the outside of his awareness as he slid down the bulkhead to the deck.

“Sir?”

Lee looked up and saw the young seaman Tanner, and coughed again.

“Some kind of gas in my cabin,”

Tanner ran for the mic in the corridor, “Corpsman to the Captain's Quarters, Emergency.”

Lee's head was leaning against the bulkhead as he breathed, trying to stay conscious.

“Sir, the gas is escaping under the door, let's move you further down the hall.”

Lee nodded and allowed Tanner to help him to his feet and moved further away from the offending gas. They were met down the hall by the corpsman, who fit an oxygen mask over Lee's face. Watson came running down the corridor as well, and without asking a single question picked up the mic hanging on the bulkhead.

“Damage Control, report to the Captain's Quarters.” He squatted down as Lee's eyes began to sharpen, the oxygen replenishing his body's needs. The corpsman kept the mask on Lee's face and he didn't fight it. He needed the oxygen and he was thinking through what happened. Watson had just played his first hand. He pulled the mask away as the DC team came out of his cabin.

“Carbon Monoxide levels are elevated but they've dissipated to a safe level now.”

Lee nodded, not letting on that he was well aware that Carbon Monoxide was both colorless and odorless, and yet he smelled the gas that had been let loose in his cabin. It looks like Watson's not alone in this deal. He didn't want Watson to know that he had been expecting an attempt on his life, so he accepted DC's false report and moved to stand as he reached for his head.

“Very well. Mr. Watson, you will surface and scrub the air for ten minutes. Make it fast and submerge as soon as the detail is secure.”

“Aye Sir,” Watson replied curtly and headed to the control room.

“Thanks men, I'm okay now,” Lee said to the corpsman and Tanner.

He heard “Aye Sirs” as he headed back into his cabin. He didn't necessarily need to surface, the air scrubbers could have cleared the air, but he needed to send a clean transmission. The game was on, and ONI needed to know.

He re-entered the room, and noticed the smell was gone. He had a slight headache, but ignored it as he opened his shaving kit and pulled out the small, but powerful transmitter. He felt the boat rising beneath him and waited until he felt the sub broach the water line. Then he turned his transmitter on and sent a short message.

“Attempt made on my life. The plan is still a go. LBC out.”

That was all he sent, it was scrambled but if the radio operator was anything like Sparks, he'd be questioning the transmission. Lee secured the radio, and headed to the Control Room to intercept the radio operator's alert of the transmission.

He entered the Control Room and was greeted with the same chilly air that had been present since he had first came aboard four days ago. He had to pull back a small smile as he had pegged the radio operator right.

“Captain Crane to the radio shack please.”

“What do you have Mr. Perry?” He asked, not letting on that he knew the source of Perry's furled forehead.

“Sir, I had a strange transmission from within the boat, but only for a few seconds.”

“Did you trace the source?”

“No Sir, it was too short. I've been monitoring the frequency, but I haven't heard anything else.”

“Very well, stay on top of it, and let me know what you come up with.”

“Aye Sir,” Perry replied, still trying to tweak his dials to find the transmission's source.

Lee did a circuit around the Control Room and then headed out the aft hatch. He had contained Perry’s inquiry and he still needed to make some important arrangements.

* * * * *

The two Admirals arrived in the radio room both at once as the radio operator replayed the message off the de-scrambler.

Johnson and Derrick listened as Lee's short message was heard, “Attempt made on my life. The plan is still a go. LBC out.”

Johnson nodded his head, as if Lee could see him. “Well, that's it. They need the nuclear keys and the Command Codes in your safe Matthew. To do that, they'll need Crane out of the way.”

Derrick was slightly put off at Johnson's lack of concern for Lee. “I should have been there,” Derrick said as he turned and paced the floor.

“We've been through that Matthew. Crane is no stranger to this type of thing. He'll handle the situation,” Johnson added with confidence.

“I'm well aware of Lee's association with ONI Admiral Johnson. He took three missions while he was on board the Pulaski. He came back one time with his arm in a sling, the second time nursing a bullet wound in the side, and the third time trying to hide the fact that he was having nightmares after being drugged to oblivion.” Matthew Derrick's voice rose in volume, and then he pulled back his emotions remembering his place.

“I'm sorry Admiral. I was out of line.”

“Matthew, a couple of things you should know. First, Lee Crane is one of my best operatives, and I don't send him off lightly. I do what I have to do, and so does he.” Matthew nodded as he acquiesced to the Admiral's rank.

“The second thing you need to know is that you're an Admiral now. Speak your mind and don't apologize for it.” He finished the last with a small smile that Derrick returned, as the two left the radio room with the radio operator dutifully attending his station, pretending he hadn't heard a single word of the conversation between the two Admirals.

* * * * *

Lee slipped out into the hall, shutting the circuitry closet door closed behind him. He moved forward and headed to his next objective. He slid into the Ballast Control Room and bent down lifting his white pant leg up. He had a small detonation kit strapped around his calf and proceeded to wire explosives to the main pump and the compressor unit. He concentrated on his task, listening as he worked for the sounds of anyone approaching. He looked over his work satisfied that it would do the job, and slid the small pen sized detonator into his pant pocket. He left the compartment and headed back to his cabin. It was time for a radio check.

* * * * *

“Mr. Watson to the radio shack please.”

“Yes Perry?” Watson asked as he closed the distance.

“Sir, I told the Captain I'd continue to monitor for any stray radio transmissions on the boat.”

Watson's eyes narrowed, he hadn't been told about any stray radio transmissions.

“What do you have?” Watson asked, acting like he had been fully briefed on the matter.

“Well, not like the first one Sir. The first one was probably a voice message, scrambled. But as I told Captain Crane, it was too short to trace, and I can't unscramble the message. But this one is on a different frequency. It's a VLF, a Very Low Frequency transmission, most likely just piggy backing our own signals from the antennae.”

“A voice message?”

“No Sir, a short transmission burst but with an interesting pattern. I decided to check it further and went back over my tapes for the last few days. It shows up every six hours. Should I inform the Captain now or wait till he returns to the Control Room?” Perry understood that discretion was required since someone was making unauthorized transmissions and reporting the matter over the boat com system wouldn’t be prudent.

“Don't bother Perry, I'll do it,” Watson replied, realizing that Crane was up to something. He walked back over to the chart table and reached into his pocket, activating the transponder that was given to him by the PR Operative. These weren't exactly the coordinates that he would have chosen, but if the PR wanted their boat they'd have to come quick. He figured it would take them another twelve hours to close the distance and intercept the boat. Then he would take command and follow the PR sub back to its base.

Just as he finished, he looked up as he heard the clicks of an officer arriving in the Control Room. Crane strode in and Watson schooled back a small smile, he knew exactly how he was going to play this.

* * * * *

Lee took his meal in the wardroom and ate by himself, looking over reports as he did so. Several of the junior officers gave him a friendly nod, which he reciprocated, but there were still some hot-head officers that hadn't warmed up to him yet. The hot-heads sat together and though they greeted him fully within naval decorum he could feel their disapproval. When he was finished, the steward took his plate and offered him another cup of coffee. He declined and thanked the steward with a polite smile and left the wardroom.

The door had barely shut as he left when the hot-heads began to talk amongst themselves, again loud enough for others to hear them.

“I heard he was Captain Derrick's XO for over a year before he was bumped to Commander.”

“Look how he repays the Captain,” another one growled. “He relieves him of his command and takes over his boat like it belongs to him.”

The voices around the table agreed and the grumbling continued. Several junior officers decided that the conversation was getting too heated and left the wardroom to escape the growing tension.

* * * * *

When Lee re-entered the Control Room he found a circle of junior officers surrounding Watson. It was highly unusual and Lee figured the game was escalating.

“Report Mr. Watson,” Lee ordered, walking up and ignoring the “indignation meeting”.

“Sir,” as the circle parted Lee found himself being targeted by a sidearm held by Watson. “According to the Precedence of Authority and Command I hereby relieve you of your command.”

“What are you talking about Watson? You have no authority to relieve me.”

“Sir, Mr. Perry informed you of an unauthorized transmission from this boat, not only did you fail to inform your command team, but we found this in your quarters.” Watson held up Lee's transmitter for everyone in the Control Room to see, as he made his case.

“Mr. Perry further reports, that since you have been on-board, transmissions have occurred exactly every six hours.”

“And now we've just received a coded transmission in your name from an unknown source. When Perry ran it through the logs and matched the profile he discovered that the source is from the People's Republic. We ran it through the decoder, would you like hear the message?” Watson asked, knowing he had framed Lee for the coming hijacking as far as his crew was concerned.

Lee kept his face schooled as Watson raised the radio operator's message and read out loud,

“Crane, coordinates set, present your sub for the glory of the People's Republic. Funds have been transferred as agreed.” Watson held back his smile, he needed to appear shocked at Crane's 'treachery'.

“You think you've set me up to take the fall for this don't you?” Lee replied darkly and looking straight into Watson's eyes.

His words were met with a club to the back of his neck as he fell to the deck in a heap, dazed but not unconscious, courtesy of one of the junior officer hot-heads.

Watson continued on with his plan, “Men I'm going to set our course in an opposite direction of the coordinates that the PR wants us to take. We'll get out a message to ComSubPac and wait for the fleet to arrive to escort this sub back to Pearl.” Watson proceeded to give orders setting the course away from where Lee knew the Carrier was waiting and towards where he surmised the PR was waiting to take control of the boat.

Lee only had one shot at this, as far as he knew the rest of the boat was not privy to this information yet. He rose from the deck quickly putting an elbow into the junior officer's gut that had clobbered him and grabbed the mic.

“Engineering this is the Captain! Emergency Flank. Now!”

Watson and his men pulled Lee back from the mic holding him in place, but not before the well trained Engineering section put the boat at Emergency Flank. Lee's “prior arrangements” were set into place and almost immediately the sound of the boat powering down was heard as the declining whining sound was accompanied by the lights going out and the emergency red lights activating.

“Sir, we've lost all power!”

“We've lost neutral buoyancy Sir, we're nose heavy and sinking fast.”

“Full rise on the planes!” Watson yelled as Lee watched the emergency unfold. There was only one thing that could be done, and Lee knew it.

“Negative Sir, she's not answering.”

Watson faltered looking around confused. Lee was flanked by the hot-heads but spoke up anyway, “Present depth, helm?”

The crewman answered, forgetting that Watson had just relieved Lee of his command. “500 feet and sinking fast Sir.”

“Depth, keel to bottom,” Lee demanded as the hot-heads continued to hold him by the arms.

“2,500 feet Sir.”

Lee looked over at Watson, who had just now composed himself, realizing that he should have been asking the same questions.

“Execute an emergency blow Mr. Watson,” Lee said evenly, staring Watson directly into his eyes.

“You are not in command Crane!” Watson yelled.

“Present Depth?” Lee asked looking toward the helmsman.

“800 feet Sir,” the harried seaman replied.

“You're dead in the water Watson, and the bottom is below our crush depth. Execute an emergency blow now!” Lee ordered.

“Depth 1,000 feet!” The seaman updated.

Watson was fuming, but he knew that if he didn't act soon it would be too late.

“Execute emergency blow!” Watson bellowed, his eyes boring holes into Lee.

“Aye Sir. Blow all ballast tanks.” The orders were repeated, and the emergency generators supplied the power as high powered compressed air began blowing the ballast tanks of their payload of seawater. The submarine began to answer as the descent first slowed and then began to rise. The Control Room crewman began to prepare for the jolt once the great boat broached the surface. A few long minutes passed and then the nose rose as the boat pierced the water and the natural buoyancy of the sub caused the nose to slam down on the ocean's surface in one dramatic and powerful motion.

Lee and his guards ended up on the floor as the boomer broached the surface and Lee used that moment to reach into his pocket and activate the remote detonator. Immediately an explosion was heard and felt as the hot-heads jumped on Lee holding him down and wrestling the detonator out of his hands.

Watson picked up the mic, “Damage Control Report!”

“DC Aye, the Reactor's good but we're not drawing power. Also, the coolant system is down, we'll have to dampen the reactor down if we can't cool these pipes!”

“What about the explosion?” Watson asked, knowing he had more than one emergency going.

Another voice was heard, “Collins here Sir, an explosion in the Ballast Pump Room, I've got a fire detail on it now, it should be under control soon. But Sir...it was sabotaged, we found traces of an explosive device.”

Watson breathed deeply as he watched his men haul Lee up from the floor, “Very well. We're sitting ducks up here, get the pumps working.” Watson paced the floor. Though the pumps weren't required to flood the tubes, they were needed to trim the boat, and more importantly, they would sink like a rock if they submerged without power to maneuver. And without the compressors...well, no submariner likes to submerge without a way to blow ballast. Still, they couldn't stay where they were, there were too many spy satellites to spot them and he wasn't near his coordinates yet.

He walked over to the radio shack where Perry had been quietly removed from his post during the confusion, and another operator inserted. Watson leaned over and spoke quietly, “Send our coordinates to our 'friends', tell them we're dead in the water, if they want this sub they'll have to come fast!”

He moved back over to address Lee. It would take the PR about eight hours to close the distance at flank speed. His plans had all been shot down by Crane, but there was still a chance to salvage the operation, and there was no turning back now. He picked up the detonator that had fallen to the floor in the confusion and walked over to the mic on the chart table.

“Attention all personnel, this is the Exec,” he said in a boat wide announcement, “Captain Crane has been caught in the act of sabotaging this vessel and we have evidence to support that he has been in communications with the People Republic. He has been relieved of his command and arrested for traitorous acts against the United States of America. Now men, let's get our power restored, and the ballast pumps and compressors working and we'll head for safe cover. That is all.”

“How long do you think these men will follow you Watson? Sooner or later they're going to realize that you're the traitor.”

Watson had enough, he closed the distance and delivered a solid blow to Lee's solar plexus leaving him bent over barely held up by his “guards”.

“Take Mister Crane to the brig.”

Lee was led through the corridors as the Davy Crockett crew watched with disdain and hatred in their eyes. They were Navy through and through, and red-blooded Americans. Their eyes bore into him as Watson's plan to deceive the crew was apparently working; at this point, they would follow Watson anywhere. Lee took a deep sigh as he was thrown non-too-gently into the brig.

* * * * *

Harriman Nelson's forehead furled as he re-read the message he received from Admiral Johnson. An attempt had been made on Lee's life, that meant that the plans to hijack the sub were still on. He breathed in deeply, feeling too far away from the situation, and too far away from Lee. He had tried to stay busy and keep his mind occupied, but the fact that Lee was sitting in a snake pit was too much. He tossed his pen on his desk and fingered his intercom.

“Sparks, get me Admiral Johnson, and put it through to my cabin.”

An efficient “Aye Sir” was heard and Harry folded his hands to a point and leaned his chin down on them as he thought. Some minutes later and Sparks was connecting him to ONI's Admiral Johnson.

“Harriman, we're pretty busy out here right now,” Johnson answered shortly.

“What's going on with Lee, Gerald?” Harry inquired getting straight to the point.

Johnson sighed, “All we know is that he missed a radio check. We're moving in to intercept the boat, but satellite pictures show the Crockett sitting on top right now.”

Harry's face reflected the seriousness of Johnson's statement. Submarines carrying ballistic nuclear capable missiles didn't just sit top-side for no good reason. Harry made his decision.

“Give me coordinates Gerald, I'll get there by way of FS1.”

“Negative Harry. Let's not add more traffic to the area and get anyone else's attention out here. Head to Pearl, that's the best I can do right now.”

Harry bit back his first response and answered, “Alright Gerald, have it your way...for now.”

They both signed off, and Harry sat wondering just what was happening with Lee at this moment, then he reached for his intercom once again.

“Chip, ready the Flying Sub for immediate departure.”

He was going to get as close to Lee as he could, and something told him he was going to be visiting Lee at the base hospital.

* * * * *

Lee laid on the bunk with his arm bent under his head. He was looking up at the bulkhead and thinking. His radio transmission was overdue, and he was just a few hours away from missing the second one. Johnson would be on his way. The aircraft carrier had stationed itself far enough away to avoid detection and to avoid deterring the plans from continuing. It would take time for them to close the distance. They could recon using aircraft but most likely they'd use the satellites, not wanting to tip off their position. So far the crew believed Watson, and he really didn't have the proof he had been sent in for. He needed Watson to come out into the open. Lee wondered how long it would take Watson to realize that he hadn't obtained the nuclear keys or the Command Codes yet.

Just then his brig door opened and he was motioned out with a gun. Lee made an inward smile, it looks like Watson's just figured out that the safe is empty. Lee moved through the corridors receiving similar stares as those he received on the way down and kept his face cool. He needed to expose Watson, then the crew would know to fight back. They were a good crew, confused by the recent events, but having been fed misinformation at every turn they had only reacted as one might expect. Once they knew the truth, Lee was sure they would help him take the boat back.

They entered the Control Room and Lee was brought to Watson. Without saying a word, Watson reached up to Lee's open color and pulled the chain from around his neck. He held the keys into his line of sight and frowned as he realized that the keys hanging from the chain were not the nuclear keys he was looking for.

He backhanded Lee and then yelled, “Where are the keys Crane?”

Lee recovered and stared him straight in the face, “They're with the Command Codes,” he answered, “But I guess you already know that those are missing too.”

Watson landed a blow into his gut, as one of the officers stepped up to the XO. “Sir, he's a prisoner under guard; this treatment is illegal.”

Good for you, thought Lee as he realized that Derrick's crew wouldn't just follow Watson blindly. They were still Navy, and he knew they'd come through. He only hoped it would be in time.

“Back off Sulley,” Watson glared.

Lee recovered, “What's the matter Watson, are you afraid that when the PR gets here you won't be able to deliver?” Lee noticed some confused looks around the Control Room. “How long do you think it will be before this crew realizes that you're the traitor? Think about it men, how did I get command of this boat just in time for the PR to show up?”

Several eyes revealed their understanding as they realized that a Navy Commander doesn't choose his postings, he goes where he's ordered.

“Shut up Crane!” Watson yelled, his unstableness showing through.

“Did you tell them you planned on killing Captain Derrick? And where's Perry?” Lee asked, the boat's radio operator was no-where in sight in the middle of an emergency. “Could it be you needed someone on the radio who could handle your communications with the PR?”

“You sabotaged this boat!” Watson's voice escalated as he spoke trying to deflect suspicion off himself.

“Yes!” Lee responded in like decibels, “To keep you from turning this boat straight into the arms of the enemy. Our present course was preset and in our orders, and you tried to turn us 180 degrees off that course, who gave you the authority to do that mister?”

The crew was finally starting to get the picture and Watson realized it.

He reached for the mic and depressed it speaking calmly.

“Code Blue,” was all he said, and then turned his attention back to Lee, staring with intensity as four more crewmen entered the Control Room carrying arms and dogging the hatches behind them. They trained their weapons on the Crockett's crew as Rogers rose from his post at sonar and joined Watson.

Watson smiled, the Control Room was sealed off, and when the PR arrived he would open the sail hatch and present them with their prize.

“Code Blue Crane, the second crew has now taken command of the boat.”

Several of Crockett crewmen's heads dipped as they realized they'd been had.

“Get a message to the PR, I want their ETA on our position.” Watson spoke, putting away all subterfuge at this point.

“Now Crane, it's too late. I don't know how you found out about this but my friends will be here soon, and they'll get us moving in no time.” He smiled as he continued, “It doesn't matter about the keys or the Command Codes, I'm sure you know that. They'll work around it.”

He began to pace in front of Lee, his summer service white uniform no longer crisp and clean.

“I heard you were the intercollegiate middle weight boxing champ in your day at the academy. Is that right Crane?”

Watson's off the wall comment was met by Lee's shocked expression as Watson continued. “Your crew showed their loyalty these last few days Crane,” several heads dipped, “I just wonder how loyal you are to them?”

Watson motioned to the hot-heads holding his arms as they let loose and stepped away. There were still plenty of guns trained on him so he stayed put waiting to see what Watson had planned.

“Alright Crane, every boxer knows how to take a hit.” Watson put his gun in his belt and raised his fists menacingly, “You move to raise your hands to either strike or defend and I'll shoot a crewman. Stay on your feet Crane, 'cause when you can't get up anymore, I'm going to I'll kill one of your men.”

The looks around the control room were a mixture of unbelief and betrayal. Watson had been their XO for the last two years, how could a man go that bad?

Lee looked around at the men who sat with guns drawn on them at their duty stations, there was no doubt in Lee's mind that Watson was capable of killing the crew to get what he wanted. The boat was dead in the water and top-side, there wasn't much station keeping to do so all eyes were trained on him as Watson advanced. Watson stepped forward and threw a punch whipping Lee's head to one side as he stumbled back. Watson continued to advance as Lee willed his fists to stay unclenched. The control room of the boomer wasn't as big as Seaview, and Lee found himself taking a blow that landed him against a station. He pushed himself off the station as Watson moved in landing multiple blows to his ribs. Lee started to fall and turned to keep himself up as Watson landed a hit in his back, over his kidneys. A loud grunt escaped as he struggled to keep his feet under him and found himself pushing off another console, and taking a blow in the side.

The crew watched as Captain Crane took blow after blow, with little more than grunts escaping as their XO took his strange revenge out on Crane. The blows kept coming and finally he lost his balance and fell to his knees catching himself on a console to keep from completely collapsing. He held there a moment catching his breath and gaining his strength when everyone in the Control Room heard a “click”.

Lee turned at the sound of the gun cocking at Lt. Sulley and yelled as he pushed up to a standing position, “No!”

Watson smiled, released the hammer and returning his gun to his belt, advanced on Lee again. He connected with his jaw and Lee was thrown towards the chart table, keeping his balance precariously. Watson moved forward and delivered more blows as blood began to run down Lee's bruised face. Lee was backed against the chart table and Watson delivered more blows to his gut and sides as he felt ribs breaking. His attack continued until Lee's legs began to buckle, he caught himself by turning on the chart table as Watson pulled Lee toward him by a handful of collar.

“Who should it be Crane? Who'll get it when you fall? Could be the helmsman, or hydrophones? Maybe I'll pick one of the guys who railed you pretty hard this week, sort of like “poetic justice” don't you think? That might make it worthwhile, eh?” Watson's taunting fueled Lee to find strength and he pulled his legs firmly underneath him, as the crew of the Davy Crockett looked on in shocked unbelief.

Watson delivered a powerful blow to Lee's side and then several to his jaw and then stepped back as Lee slid down the chart table.

“Who should it be Crane?”

Lee could barely see past the sweat and blood running down his face, and he was expelling blood as he coughed. He moved to his hands and knees and started pushing up when his side was met by a kick in full swing. It drove him closer to the chart table as he gasped for air.

Watson turned around wielding his gun menacingly towards the crew. The look in his eyes gave away the evil that laid there as he pointed his gun stopping on a particular crewman ever so often. He stopped on the helmsman and cocked the gun when a weak voice was heard.

“No!” As Lee moved to make his way back up the chart table and leaned heavily against it.

“Look at you Crane, killing yourself for a bunch guys who would have keel hauled you if they had the chance!” Watson laughed and uncocked his gun as he advanced on Lee, pistol whipping him across the face. Lee fell heavily to the ground as his eyes closed decisively.

Watson laughed and stepped away from him, gloating over his victim in victory. The crew looked on in horror; no man fearing for himself, but for their commanding officer lying on the deck in a heap.

Watson composed himself, his game was over and walked over to the mic hanging on the wall. “DC, this is Watson. Get the power restored and pumps working or I'll start executing your crewmates one by one.” He calmly shipped the mic and smiled.

* * * * *

Lee woke, barely conscious as he heard Watson's ultimatum to the crew.

It was on thought that he dove into a deep oblivion, unaware of anything around him.

* * * * *

Outside the Control Room hatch stood crewmen of the Davy Crockett. The arms locker had been raided and each man stood ready for the first opportunity to take back their boat. Lt. Perry, the boat's radio operator was leading the way. He had been escorted from the Control Room, but was left on his own when Watson called the “Blue Crew” in. The tall, red head of Jeremy Tanner was visible among the crew as they gathered around Perry making plans on how to storm the Control Room. They wanted to save their crewmates, but even more, they had to keep the boat and her payload of missiles out of the hands of the People's Republic. Their duty drove them onward, even though they knew there would be casualties.

There were two hatches that led into the control room, each one dogged from the inside. The only other way in was the sail. It was possible that the service hatch in the sail had been over-looked. The service hatch was only accessible from a DC compartment and was rarely used.**

Perry led a small contingency of men with him to access the Control Room from the sail, the rest he left at the aft and forward hatches. If they were successful, those hatches would be opened from the inside and the crew could enter and secure the Control Room.

Perry led his men through the DC compartment and took a deep sigh as he reached up and slowly turned the hatch wheel. Each tiny sound was accentuated in his ear, he only hoped that what was going on down below was keeping everyone's attention away from the small sounds in the sail. As the wheel turned he said a prayer of thanks that they had forgotten this little used hatch and carefully opened it laying it quietly back against the hinges in an open position. He climbed out, followed by more crewmen and moved to the hatch that led directly down into the boomer's Control Room.

Perry moved the hatch quietly, hoping that Watson had been too arrogant to think to dog this hatch. The wheel turned slowly as each of the assault team held their breath.

* * * * *

A small noise caught Chief Espinoza's attention as he carefully raised his eyes upward, without moving his head. He hadn't heard any sounds of possible boarders from the deck overhead, and surmised that his fellow crewmates had found a way to enter the Control Room. Wishful thinking? Maybe, but he'd bet his bottom dollar that the crew of the USS Davy Crockett wouldn't just let their boat be handed over to a foreign power without a fight.

Espinoza looked around the room and counted the unfriendlies, each one former boat mates. He thought they were brothers, and the thought that Watson had convinced this many men to defect with him was simply unreal. Eight men plus Watson, all bearing weapons. He'd do whatever it took to get the boat back, because there wasn't no way The Crockett was going to fly another country's flag!

* * * * *

Lt. Sulley noticed a small sound coming from the sail hatch, he avoided the look upwards and caught the eyes of Chief Espinoza across the deck. There was no nod or acknowledgment other than the understanding in one another's eyes as the two men realized that a plan was underway to retake the boat. Slowly, Sulley turned his head slightly to the seaman across the deck and caught his eyes as the unspoken message made its way around the room. Be ready.

Sulley and Espinoza both flanked the sail hatch and noted the sound of the hatch opening, then suddenly Crockett men began to descend down the ladder, even as each man at their station moved to even the odds by taking out the guard nearest them. Gunfire was exchanged as men from both sides fell to the cross fire.

Tanner's job was to get to the aft hatch and open it for reinforcements. He moved quickly undogging the hatch while having to duck a couple of times as gunfire erupted much too close to him. Still, he removed the rod that was jammed in the round wheel and opened the hatch. More Crockett crewmen entered the Control Room and within minutes the mutinous defectors were subdued.

Lt. Sulley, now the most senior officer, sent a well done across to Lt. Perry as the crew rounded up Watson and his men and looked over their casualties. He sighed in relief as he realized that the Crockett Crew had sustained no life threatening injuries...all except one. Captain Crane laid on the deck a bloody mess. He moved forward to Crane while directing the Master at Arms to escort the defectors to the brig.

He knelt down on one knee as the Captain lay against the Chart Table breathing raggedly.

“Captain Crane?” He called gently.

* * * * *

Lee was out cold, when something penetrated his pain filled sleep. Without knowing or understanding why, his body began to wake as the sound of gunfire filled the Control Room. He couldn't quite get his eyes open and every breath cost him as he breathed shallowly. The gunfire began to trail off and suddenly Lee remembered everything, and then heard his name.

“Captain Crane?”

He used the sound of the voice to bring him out of his semi-conscious state and breathed out a pain-filled breath. Then his eyes fluttered open as he looked toward the sound of his name.

“Captain Crane, it's me, Lt. Sulley. The boat's ours, Sir. We're in control.”

Lee smiled, Derrick's crew had done it. “Help me up, Sulley.”

“No Sir.” Lee thought that perhaps he was still under arrest, but was relieved to hear the rest of Sulley's statement.

“You're hurt bad Skipper. You just give the orders from where you're at, we'll follow them.”

Lee nodded, he knew he wasn't going anywhere without help. “The USS Constellation...is headed our way from the south-southeast. Contact her...” Lee paused to catch his breath, “and inform Admiral Johnson that we're dead in the water...and the PR is on its way.”

“Aye Sir.” Sulley turned toward his radio operator and Perry acknowledged, “I'm on it Sir.”

Just then Lee caught sight of Tanner's red head near his feet. “Tanner?”

“Aye Sir,”

“You remember the panel?” Tanner acknowledged an affirmative. “You're looking for three blue circuit breakers...should solve the problem with power.”

Tanner cracked a smile, “Aye Sir, I'll take care of it Skipper.”

Lee's attention returned to Sulley. “Not much I can do about the pump and compressor, I think I blew them to kingdom come,” he quipped in pain.

“Aye Sir you did, but we're working on replacing them now.”

“Just get us moving toward the Constellation...” Lee's words were getting hard to form as his need for air was taking precedence over his words.

“Someone get Doc here right away!” Sulley called over his shoulder.

“He just came in Sir,” was relayed across the deck.

Petty officer third class 'Doc' Kenny Blair dropped down to one knee taking in the Captain's situation. The corpsman unbuttoned his shirt and found his mid-section full of dark purple bruises with bulges indicating broken ribs.

“Okay Sir, I've got something for the pain...”

“Negative Doc...I need to be awake.”

“Sir, you're bad off...”

“No meds until the boat is secure and under escort,” Lee's order was unmistakable as Doc raised his eyes to Lt. Sulley.

Sulley nodded, “You heard the Skipper, just do you can and no meds.”

* * * * *

“Sir?”

Lee opened his eyes, he hadn't even been aware that he had fallen asleep.

“Sir, Tanner's restored the power, we're headed on an intercept course with the Constellation. Admiral Johnson has aircraft patrolling and escorting us in. The scope is clear Sir, I think maybe the PR got a whiff of the activity overhead.”

Sulley smiled and Lee allowed a half smile to cross his face as well. He was lying on the deck covered with a blanket; his ribs had been taped and Doc had cleaned his face while he slept. He noticed he was now sporting an I.V. but since he wasn't groggy and still in incredible pain he knew it was just fluids.

“Good job Mr. Sulley. I knew Matt had a good crew and that you'd come through.”

Lt. Sulley's head dipped and then rose again, “It was you who saved the boat Skipper. How'd you get so good at sabotage anyway?” He asked trying to lighten the mood.

Lee smiled, “You don't want to know.”

“Skipper?”

Lee's eyes moved to the opposite side and saw Lt. Perry. Perry had done a great job finding his radio transmissions, he couldn't fault his abilities or his duty in reporting it.

“Sir, we're going to receive a Marine Detail and a couple of Admirals. We're going to put you off the boat for medical care aboard the Constellation.”

“Very well, Mr. Perry...and good job on catching those radio transmissions.”

Perry's head ducked, “I wished I would have known about Watson Sir, I never would have let on to him.”

“You did your duty, and did it well. I'm afraid this is just a casualty of being undercover.” Lee added a smile and closed his eyes as he felt Perry rise and return to his station.

“Sir?”

It was Doc again. Lee opened his eyes once again, barely managing the pain. “Sir we're going to have to take you out the sail hatch. I really need to give you the meds so you can tolerate the move.”

Lee nodded, his watch was nearly over. All he needed to do was to turn over the Con. He felt Doc prepare his arm and then felt a sting followed by a warm sensation as he welcomed the release of pain. Doc waited a few moments and then with the help of several crew, rolled Lee to one side and slid the back board under him. He was strapped in as his blanket was wrapped around him leaving him feeling safe in his warm cocoon. The crew was safe; the boat was safe, and the nuclear payload was secure. It was a successful mission regardless of his present condition, he was satisfied.

“Okay Skipper, we're ready to move you.”

Lee's stretcher was raised and he could finally see around the Control Room. He bit back his emotions as his stretcher was handed off to a line of crewmen that stretched from the nose of the sub to the sail hatch. He looked up with appreciation in his eyes as the stretcher was passed from crewman to crewman, many offering soft comments of encouragement.

“It's been a pleasure serving under you, Captain,”.... “You're going to be okay, Skipper,” … “I said a prayer Sir,”...

“Thank you men,” he answered as he swallowed back his emotions.

The stretcher reached the ladder and even though Lee was medicated he could still feel the pull of gravity as he was hoisted up the Control Room hatch and transferred to the deck hatch. Lee breathed in as the exertion of being lifted strained his body, when he opened his eyes he saw a deep blue sky spotted with white puffy clouds. He took in the fresh ocean air through shallow breaths as Sulley and Perry carried his stretcher at the head while Tanner and Doc took the stretcher at his feet.

“Pre-sent...Arms,” was heard in the traditional military cadence as Lee was carried through a USS Davy Crockett SSBN honor guard, each man saluting crisply. Lee couldn't salute back, as his arms were secured inside the stretcher, but he added a, “Thank you men,” as he passed.

At the end of the honor guard stood two Admirals. One with four stars, Admiral Johnson; the other with one star, the newly appointed Admiral Matthew Derrick.

“Sir,” Lee said addressing his former Captain and long-time friend, “It's my honor to present you back your boat. She's quite a boat, and quite a crew Sir. You have the Con Sir, I stand relieved.”

“Aye Commander. You are relieved, I have the Con.” Admiral Derrick reached down and squeezed Lee's shoulder offering more through his eyes than he could say at the moment. They exchanged brief smiles as Lee's eyes fluttered closed, succumbing to the strong pain medication. Then Lee was placed inside the helicopter for transport back to the Constellation, with Admiral Johnson following in behind him.

Admiral Derrick looked across the deck at the honor guard with pride as he was piped aboard to take his boat back one last time before heading to his new post in Washington DC. His men surrounded him in cheers as the crew of the Davy Crockett welcomed back their Skipper with whoops and hollers.

* * * * *

Lee was lying comfortably with his head elevated in the hospital bed at Pearl. The verdict was in, a week long stay in the hospital before they would even consider releasing him. Right now it made little difference, he was weak and tired anyway. His eyes were closed when he heard the door open and someone enter. When Lee opened his eyes he saw the auburn hair and deeply expressive blue eyes of Harriman Nelson.

“Hello Lee,” Harry said quietly.

“Hello Sir.” Lee's voice reflecting the long list of injuries that his body had sustained in the beating.

“How are you feeling Lad?”

“I'm alright Sir,” Lee's eyes diverted away and then back to Harry as he sighed. “Admiral, I'm sorry.”

Harry's eyes revealed his confusion at Lee's words until Lee clarified, “I got busted up pretty good this time, I'm afraid I'm going to miss another cruise.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. It was his fault Lee was worried about the next cruise; he had made such an issue of it with Johnson, but he really needed to set this straight. It was one of those rare moments in his and Lee's relationship when something that they both knew, needed to be said out loud.

“Lee, I don't think I've told you often enough...” he laughed again, “come to think of it, I can only think of one other time I've told you...how very proud I am of you. What you did out there was extraordinary Lad, and I'm very honored to not only have you as my Captain, but as my friend.”

Lee swallowed hard and then smiled, “Thank you Sir. That means a lot to me, more than you know.”

They both let out a small chuckle that eased the sentiments of the candid moment into something more like the comfortable exchange they often engaged in.

“How's the boat Sir?”

“Fine Lee. Everything went fine laying the seismic sensors....”

Lee listened comfortably as Harry's deep baritone voice resonated in the hospital room, the news he brought of Seaview was like a healing balm to his battered body. They spoke comfortably, quietly enjoying one another's company. Neither one noticed the partly opened door of Lee's hospital room as it closed silently.

On the other side of the door stood Admiral Johnson, with his hand still on the door knob. He would have liked to have said everything that Harriman had said to Lee and more. But his job called him to send men like Lee into dangerous situations daily, he couldn't afford to engage in emotions like this. So he satisfied himself knowing that Harriman Nelson had said what he couldn't. He turned and walked back out the halls of the base hospital, allowing Harry and Lee to enjoy their special friendship...the debrief could wait. One day when he retired and was no longer sending young men out to risk their lives on dangerous missions, maybe then he'd be able to tell Lee how he felt.

Admiral Johnson squared his shoulders, refocusing as he thought to himself how fortunate his country was that when danger called, there were men like Lee Crane willing to answer that call.

The End

When Danger Calls

*TDY – Temporary Duty Assignment

** Sail Service Hatch – I'm sure exists only in fiction, but since Lee ended up coming out of no-where, down the sail hatch to get the bad guy on the Second Season episode “Death Ship,” I decided there must be a service hatch there!

Note: SSBN is the designation given to nuclear powered ballistic submarines in the US Navy. Ballistic subs do indeed have two crews, the Blue and the Gold Crew. The Benjamin Franklin Class of Ballistic Submarines commissioned 12 boats, the USS Davy Crockett is the fictional 13^th boat of the fleet.

Author's Note: I'm sure the astute reader will find some technical aspects of my story that are incorrect. I tried to locate and correct what I could, and offer as plausible a story as possible. But if you find one of these faux pas, just chalk it up to the “Go With It and Enjoy the Story Rule” found somewhere in the Science Fiction/Fanfiction Writer's Handbook! ; )

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