Exile’s Price
by
Beth Kauffman
Lee
Crane, captain of the submarine Seaview,
paced anxiously back and forth across the width of the Observation Nose of the
mighty submarine, his heart racing. Had
he chosen the wrong thing to do? What if
following the admiral’s orders to wait at the rendezvous for him cost the
admiral his life? As soon as he had
heard the yacht Nelson had met ex-Premier Brynov on had been sunk, his first
inclination had been to race back to the last coordinates of the yacht and try
to find the admiral. But he remembered
Nelson’s words-his orders- to take Seaview
out of territorial waters, head to the rendezvous and wait for him there. He had banked on Crane doing that and he’d
felt it was the right thing to do at the time.
But was it? Or was it a death
sentence? They hadn’t expected the yacht
to be found by the People’s Republic so easily but it had and now the admiral
quite possibly was lying on the bottom of the sea dead, or worse, a captive of
the PR.
“Lee,
repairs are finished,” Chip Morton said, coming up beside the captain,
startling him out of his thoughts.
“Thanks
Chip,” he replied quietly, still questioning his decision as he stared out the
huge windows fronting the large submarine.
“Anything
I can do?” his exec asked, knowing the turmoil his friend was in over the
admiral and his plight.
Crane
shook his head. “No, Chip. Thanks.
Doesn’t seem to be much we can do, does there? Except wait.”
“You
all right?”
“It’s
been three days, Chip,” he said quietly after a moment’s hesitation. “He should have been here by now. Maybe you were right. Maybe we should have
gone in after him. He might be safely on
board by now.”
“Or
we could be lying on the bottom with a dead crew. You were right, Lee. Seaview
couldn’t have taken another pounding by those ships. Following orders is what the admiral would count
on, not us racing in there to find him.
Like you said, if there’s a way, he’ll find it.”
“If there’s a way. And if
he’s alive.”
“Don’t
give up on him. He’s a survivor and he
knows what he’s doing.”
“Yeah,
with the whole People’s Republic looking for him. For all we know, they already found him and
executed him,” Lee said in an agitated voice as he thought of his friend. “We may never…”
What
he was about to say was interrupted by Kowalski who shouted, “Small craft,
sir! Coordinates are… right at the
rendezvous point!”
Crane
hurried to the periscope and looked through, his heart pounding as he saw the
small craft bob in the current.
“Lee?”
he heard Chip call in question.
“Small
raft. No signs of movement on
board. Come to a course of 190. All ahead slow. Notify Doc,” he said tersely to Chip.
“Aye
sir.”
Crane
panned the periscope 360 degrees. “No
sign of surface ships. Sonar, radar, any
contacts?”
“All
clear Skipper,” both men manning the stations replied.
“Take
her up, Mr. Morton. Ten degree up
bubble. Come alongside the raft,” Crane
said as he continued to watch the small craft for any signs of life, praying he
saw something to give him hope. It had
been three days-three long days. If the
admiral had survived the bombing, he’d faced storms, sharks, discovery by the
PR’s navy…so many things. How could he
still be alive?
“On
the surface,” Chip said after a few minutes had passed. “Moving towards the raft now, sir.”
“Open
hatches and prepare to bring occupants of the raft aboard,” he said as he began
to climb the ladder to the bridge quickly.
Climbing
out on the deck of the boat, Crane strained his eyes for any sign of the
admiral as they slowly neared the small raft.
“Here,
Lee,” Chip said as he handed him a pair of binoculars. Both men gazed intently at the raft they were
slowly approaching.
“I
don’t see anyone moving,” Lee said. “I
can make out two men, one in the bow and one by the tiller. God, let’s hope one of them is the admiral
and he’s alive.”
The Seaview approached the raft and was soon
within eyesight of the raft. Two men
could plainly be seen now; the one in the bow appeared dead, his face a white
mask of agony. The one in the stern by
the tiller was turned away but the visible wavy auburn hair gave the men hope
that it was Nelson.
The
little raft was quickly tied up by the side of the sub and Crane quickly
climbed down into it, his heart in his throat as he fervently prayed it was
Nelson and that he was alive.
Kneeling
by the man, he turned him over; laying him across his arm and saw with relief
it was Nelson. Bringing a shaking hand
to his neck, he prayed hard for a pulse.
A long sigh left him as he felt a faint, erratic beat beneath his
fingers and he sighed in relief until he saw the blood soaked trousers and the
ragged hole in the admiral’s leg.
“Skipper? Let me in there,” the Seaview’s doctor, Will Jamieson said, pushing him to the side and
examining Nelson quickly.
“We
need to get him to
“How
bad is it, Doc?” Crane asked in a tightly controlled voice.
“It’s
not good,” he said looking into the worried eyes of the Seaview’s captain. “I don’t
know how much of the heat coming off his body right now is from hyperthermia
and how much from fever. I won’t know
until I can examine him but that leg wound looks bad and it looks as though
nothing was done to treat it. I need to
go. I’ll let you know when you can come
down.”
Eager
hands reached down and gathered Nelson up, carrying him quickly inside and to
the
Lee
knelt in the little raft watching them go, his heart in his throat. Had they been too late? What if he had gone after Nelson when the
yacht was first sunk? Would he be all
right?
“Skipper?” Crane, his thoughts interrupted, turned to
the crewman beside him.
“This
guy’s dead. What should we do with him?”
Lee
looked at the body in the bow and knew he was looking at Brynov. As much as he wanted to throw his lifeless
body overboard, he frowned and said, “Just…take him below.”
“Aye
sir,” he said quietly as he and others grabbed the Premier and carried him
below.
Chip
Morton, who still stood on the Seaview’s
deck, stared at Crane in concern when the man didn’t move. “You all right, Lee?”
“Yeah
Chip,” he said, turning and looking up into Morton’s troubled eyes “It’s
just…he looked so bad. I don’t
know. We should have gone after him. Maybe…”
“Look,
we’ve been through this. It’s done. We did what he wanted, what he ordered us to
do. It’s what he counted on us doing. You
know that. Come on,” he said giving him
a hand back on board. “”Let’s get out of
here and head for home.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hours
passed before the call came from Doc that Crane could come down. As he slowly walked the corridors to the
“Doc?”
he called quietly when he had entered the softly lit room, his eyes darting
quickly to the gurney that held Admiral Nelson, Jamieson leaning over him,
gently rubbing the still arm beneath his hand and whispering softly to the
obviously unconscious man.
“Jamie? How is he?” he asked as he approached slowly.
“Alive,”
Jamieson said succinctly with a frown as he turned to the captain. “I have no idea why he’s alive, but he is.
He’s severely dehydrated and badly sunburned as you can see. But the leg wound is the bigger problem. It looks as though the wound happened a few
days ago but very little was done to treat it.
Infection has set in and his temperature is way too high.”
“What
can you do for him?”
“I’ve
done all I can,” he said, sighing heavily as he turned back to his
patient. “We’re giving him fluids as
fast as we can and we’ve started trying to cool his body down with ice, chilled
sheets and sponge baths but so far his temps have remained way too high. I’ve tried to repair some of the damage to
the thigh. I removed the bullet, removed
some dead tissue from the area, cleansed it as well as I can and bandaged the
wound. We started him on broad spectrum
antibiotics to counteract the infection. Hopefully, he’ll begin to respond.”
“Has
he been conscious at all?”
“No. He didn’t even flinch when I was examining
him or treating the wound. He’s deeply
unconscious.”
“What’s
your prognosis, Doctor?”
Jamie
sighed heavily and stared down at Nelson’s still form. “If we can bring the infection under control
and get his temperature down soon, he’s got a chance.”
“Only
a chance?” Lee said as fear filled him.
“He’s
fighting to stay alive right now. The
dehydration and the hyperthermia alone could kill him. Add the infection and blood loss to it and it
deepens the odds against him greatly.
I’m sorry. I really wish I had better news.”
“Doc…if
we had gotten to him a day ago or even a few hours ago, would that have made a
difference?”
“Probably. I can’t really say for certain but it
probably would have made a difference, yes.”
Crane
grimaced and stared down at his friend, so still and unnaturally red. “I should have listened to Chip. I’m sorry, sir,” he whispered as he leaned
close to Nelson. He placed a soft hand
on his friend’s forehead and flinched at the heat that emanated from the man. “Fight.
Don’t give in. We need you. Seaview
needs you,” he finished softly.
Rising,
he stepped back and glanced to Jamie who stood, leaning against the bulkhead
nearby with an indefinable look in his eyes.
“I…I
need to take care of some things,” Lee said.
“Let me know if there’s any change…any change at all?”
“I
will. It may be awhile.”
Nodding
briefly, he placed a hand on Nelson’s shoulder as he leaned down. “I’ll be back, Admiral. I expect you to be awake and yelling at Jamie
when I get back. All right?” When there was not so much as a twitch, his
jaw clenched and he left the room.
Outside the door he leaned back against the bulkhead and ran a hand over
his tired eyes. Regret and fear warred
within him as he contemplated his choices.
Had he in effect cost Admiral Nelson his life and ruined the mission to
find out if Brynov was telling the truth?
He shook his head as if to dispel the unwanted thoughts. What was done was done and there was nothing
he could do to change it, no matter how much he wanted to.
Clenching
his jaw firmly, he strode down the corridor and headed to his cabin where he
needed to inform the government of Nelson’s rescue and condition.
“
“Aye
sir.”
A
few short minutes later, Starke’s anxious voice filled his cabin. “Crane? What’s going on? Where’s Nelson? We need his report! Is the information correct or not?”
“I
don’t know, sir. I haven’t been able to
talk to Admiral Nelson. When he…”
“What
do you mean you haven’t talked to him?
Why not? I was told you picked
him up hours ago!” Starke yelled. “This is important damn it!”
“I
know it’s important, sir. We did pick
Admiral Nelson up but he was unconscious.
He still is and may be for some time to come. If he lives.”
Silence
met Crane’s statement. “What do you mean
if he lives? What happened?”
“We’re
not sure, sir. The admiral was shot in
the leg, possibly a few days ago Doc thinks.
Infection has set in. That
coupled with the dehydration and hyperthermia he’s suffering from…it’s touch
and go at the moment,” he finished softly, guilt filling him.
“I…I
had no idea,” Starke said softly, concern for his friend apparent. “I’ll inform
“Aye
sir,” Crane responded bleakly as Starke’s troubled voice faded away and the
connection was severed.
He
sat for a long time at his desk, pondering the past few days and his choices
until the futility of it washed over him.
There was nothing to do but accept it and move on. Somehow, he had to deal with the guilt he
felt and move past it. But if the
admiral died…he was pretty sure there would be no way to move on from that.
Rising,
he headed to the Control Room and tried to push his recriminating thoughts
aside as he waited and prayed for the admiral to regain consciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A
few hours later, a call came from the
“I’ll
be right there. Mr. Morton, you have the
con,” he said as he walked quickly from the room.
Entering
the
“He’s
been restless for the past hour. He
hasn’t regained consciousness yet but he may be close. I thought you might want to be here.”
Nodding,
Crane walked to Nelson’s bedside and leaned close. “Admiral?
It’s Lee. You’re on board Seaview.
You’re safe.”
Nelson’s
head tossed and he mumbled as if in a dream.
“Easy,
sir. It’s all right.”
Suddenly
Nelson’s eyes flew open. “The raft!” he
said as he looked about him, then relaxed when he realized where he was. “You…you found us.”
“No,
Admiral. You found us. You were at the rendezvous when we picked you
up,” he said as he watched confusion flicker over Nelson’s face.
“I
was afraid that you’d find us too soon,” he said, looking up into Crane’s
worried eyes.
“Too
soon?”
“Before
uh uh…Brynov passed out. If I hadn’t
gotten the gun away from him before we sighted the Seaview, he would... he would have killed me. Where is he?” he asked as he tried weakly to
rise up to look around the room.
Lee placed a soft hand on his chest to keep
him down. “He was dead when we picked
you up.”
Nelson
lay back and nodded slightly. “I..wa I…I
wish I could say I’m sorry…but I’m not.”
Crane
was silent for a moment as Nelson struggled to stay awake. “Sir, I hate to have to ask but
“Captain,
I think that can wait,” the doctor said quietly.
“No,
no it can’t. It’s all right. I…I need to
tell him,” Nelson said weakly. “Did you
find a…a medal…a Saint Barbara medal on me?”
“Yes,
yes we did,” he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled the chained medal
from it.
“Open
the…the clasp carefully,” Nelson said, his voice weakening. “The missile sites on the microfilm are
defensive positions…not…not offensive.”
“Are
you sure?”
Nelson
snorted. “Quite sure. Brynov…wanted our President to believe
his…his country was about…to launch a nuclear strike…against us.”
“But
why? Why would he want us to think
that?”
Nelson’s
eyes threatened to close as he weakened even more but he had to finish what he
needed to say. “Be…because he…wanted us
to strike first. And when the war began
he would return as…as a…a hero.”
“How
do you know it’s true?”
“I...I
traded water for the information and Brynov killed the man who told me. Since he knew I’d heard, he admitted it was
true. He…was going to kill me but he
needed me alive to sail him…sail him to….”
“That’s
enough, Skipper,” the doctor said as Nelson’s voice faded and his eyes finally
slid closed. “He needs rest.”
Crane
rose, his eyes still on Nelson. “Is he
going to be all right?”
“I…I
don’t know. His leg is badly infected.”
Crane’s
eyes shot up at the worry in his voice.
“Infection? How bad an infection?
The doctor hesitated and clenched his
jaw. “The white blood cells in the wound
are elevated which isn’t good and indicate that we may be dealing with…with
gangrene. I’m running tests right now to determine the extent of the infection.
If it’s a condition called wet gangrene, hopefully we can treat it less
aggressively with the antibiotics we’ve already started. But if it’s gas gangrene…I’ll…have to take
his leg. It’s wait and see right now.”
“Gangrene! Doc!
You can’t take his leg!” Crane said in horror. “You know what…”
“I’ll
do what I have to do to save his life, Captain!
And if that means…amputation…then that’s what I’ll do,” Jamieson said
angrily, unable to look Crane in the eye.
Crane
stared in dismay at the doctor then turned his gaze back to Nelson who tossed
restlessly in delirium. He pondered what
the loss of his leg would do to the man before him and he cringed. As strong as he knew the admiral to be, he
couldn’t imagine what the future would be like for the man he had come to see
meant so much to him. His heart ached at
the thought of what he would go through, especially the first moments when he
realized what had been done and then later when he strove to get back as much
of his freedom as he could.
“It
can’t happen. Please God, don’t let it
happen,” Crane whispered as he stared down at Nelson, oblivious to the anguish
of the others in the room. “Please.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The
next few days passed in monotonous routine as the Seaview carried its creator home.
Schedules were adhered to, orders received and followed but the
life-force of the boat rested in
Crane
and Morton spent much of their free time sitting by Nelson, talking to him,
cajoling him to awaken but their pleas went unanswered as the days went
by. The infection in Nelson’s leg and
body raged on and he continued to weaken.
Jamieson struggled with the question of if he should take the leg,
knowing what it would mean to the man he had come to think of as a good
friend. He paced endlessly back and
forth, staring, waiting, watching for any sign the unspoken decision to wait
was the correct one and he wasn’t, in effect, killing the man before him.
Jamieson
had given up his relentless pacing for a brief time one night when he saw Crane
enter the
“Any
change, Jamie?” Crane asked, knowing there would be none.
“No. He’s been restless but there’s no sign he’s
waking up, or that the fever is lessening.
He’s delirious when the fever climbs and deathly still when it drops a
bit. The only good news I can give you
is the tests show it isn’t gas gangrene.
That’s the only reason I haven’t already taken the leg.”
A
brief ‘thank God’ passed Crane’s his lips before he settled himself by Nelson’s
side, leaning forward to stare into the fever ravaged face of his commanding
officer and friend.
“Why
don’t you go get some rest, Jamie,” Crane said softly as he sensed Jamieson
standing behind him, knowing the man hadn’t taken much time to sleep lately.
“I…I
don’t want to be away from him if he needs me,” he said gruffly, his voice
echoing the bleakness on his face.
“Right
there’s an empty bunk. He’s going to
need you to be alert and rested, Jamie.”
Acknowledging
the wisdom of what Crane said, he nodded slowly, grabbed Nelson’s wrist to
quickly take his pulse once more, then stumbled tiredly to the bunk and
collapsed, sleep finding him immediately.
Crane
sat by Nelson’s side talking to him of the crew, plans for leave, memories of
He
unwittingly drifted off to sleep as he sat by the bunk, awakened some time
later by the restless moans of Nelson who called to him in his delirium.
“Lee…Lee
where…Seaview…have to get back to…”
“Admiral? It’s Lee!
I’m here, Admiral. You’re
safe. You’re on Seaview,” he said softly as he stroked Nelson’s forehead.
He
smiled slightly as he saw Nelson’s eyes flicker, struggling to open and stared
at Crane hovering over him.
“I’m…on
Seaview?” he whispered as he looked
about him.
“Yes. We found you.
Remember? You’re safe.”
“Safe? The…the mission?”
“You
told us about the mission. You told us the sites were defensive positions only
for the rockets. It’s all right.
Nelson
moved as if to turn and gasped as pain shot up his leg. “Ahh!
My leg? Is it…? Is it still there?” he murmured as he reached
down to find out for himself.
Lee
grabbed his hand before he could touch the bandaged wrapped limb. “It’s all
right, sir. It’s still there. It’s
infected. But…”
“But? No,” he said in anguish as he saw the look on
his captain’s face and he began to shake his head. “No…Please.
Lee…tell Jamie…tell him not to take it.
Please Lee. Please…tell him...”
he begged as sleep pulled him back and his eyes slowly drifted shut again.
Crane
closed his eyes at the torment in Nelson’s voice, knowing the man understood
that when he awoke again, his leg might be gone. He laid a soft hand on Nelson’s
shoulder. “Rest, sir. Just rest.”
“Captain?”
a voice behind him interrupted his musings.
“He
was awake, Jamie,” he said as he saw the tall doctor peering over his shoulder
anxiously at his patient. “He’s worried
about his leg. He begged me to tell you
not to take it.”
“I
can’t promise that.”
“I
know but…I think he may be a bit cooler,” he said glancing up quickly into
Jamieson’s worried, anxious eyes.
“He
does seem to be breathing a bit easier,” Jamieson noticed. “Let me check him out…check the leg again,”
he said as he laid a soft hand on Nelson’s brow. “He does
feel cooler. Might just be wishful
thinking though. Why don’t you go get
some coffee or something? Give me a few
minutes alone to check him out.”
Crane
rose reluctantly as Jamie slid into his seat and began doing his tests. He walked slowly to the coffee pot in Jamie’s
office and poured a big cup, gulping the black bitter brew down easily. The door opened and Crane saw Chip Morton
ease his way quietly inside, taking in Jamieson’s examination of Nelson quickly.
“Chip? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Lee said from the
doorway to the office.
“Geez,
Lee you scared the crap out of me,” he said jumping slightly as he turned to
see Lee behind him.
“Sorry,”
he said in a totally unrepentant tone.
“How
is he?”
“Don’t
know. He woke up briefly. Begged me to tell Jamie not to take his leg,”
he said in sorrow.
“He
knows how bad it is then,” Chip said softly as he turned his gaze to Nelson.
“He
must know. There weren’t any first aid
supplies on the raft. There wasn’t much on the raft. Either it wasn’t supplied or the raft flipped
and everything was lost,” he said as he continued to closely watch Jamieson’s
examination of Nelson.
Crane
suddenly pushed himself away from the wall he was holding up when he saw
Jamieson lower his head into his hands.
“No,”
he whispered as he watched the Chief Medical Officer’s posture, the slight
shaking in his body. He walked slowly
towards the doctor, hesitant because of the news he felt sure he was going to
hear.
“Jamie?”
he asked tentatively.
Jamieson
looked up into Crane’s worried eyes and smiled.
“Fever’s down almost a whole degree.
The leg looks better, too. Pink,
not red. I think…God I think he’s going
to be all right,” he said, his voice breaking.
“He’s
going to be able to keep his leg?” Chip asked as he came up beside Crane and
stared down at Nelson who seemed to be resting more comfortably now in contrast
to the restlessness before.
“It’s
too soon to tell definitively but I’m optimistic. All the signs are good.”
Crane
sighed and relaxed slightly. “That was
too close, Jamie. Too close.”
“Yes,
yes it was. He’s going to need therapy
on that leg and he’s not going to be able to walk on it for awhile.”
“But he will
be able to walk on it sometime, Jamie. That’s what’s important,” Crane said as
he looked down at Nelson. “That’s all
that matters.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the next few days, Nelson awoke for longer and
longer periods of time and began to regain his strength as the infection
responded, finally to the antibiotics.
His relief at the news Jamieson gave him that he would keep his leg was
almost a palpable thing and the Seaview
officers knew it was only a matter of time before Nelson began to make demands
to be freed.
Nelson
was in that twilight period, not quite awake and not quite asleep, one day when
he sensed someone beside him. Opening
his eyes, he smiled as he saw Lee seated in the chair by his bed he had
frequented way too much over the past few days staring at him, his concerned
look quickly replaced by a quick smile.
“How
are you feeling today?”
“Better,”
Nelson said tersely. “Just need to get
out of here. Any idea when I can get out of here?”
Crane
smiled to himself, knowing the officers, and some of the crew, were taking bets
as to when he would first utter the words that he wanted out. “Jamie says you’re going to be here until we
reach port.”
“And
how long is that?” Nelson asked as his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t even know how long I’ve been here.”
“You’ve
been aboard for about a week. We should
be in port in two more days.”
Nelson
sank back into the pillows. “I’ve been
aboard that long?” he said in confusion.
“That
long. You…you almost died, you
know. It was a close thing.”
“I
know, Lee. I know,” Nelson said in a
conciliatory tone. “I just hate lying
about.”
“Well,
get used to it. I don’t think Doc wants
you up on that leg any time soon.”
Nelson
heard the words but hesitated at Crane’s tone and the way his eyes never met
his. Something was bothering his captain
and he needed to find out what.
“What
is it, Lee? What’s wrong?”
“What? I don’t know what you mean. Everything’s fine,” he said smoothly, his
eyes belying the words.
“Lee…what
is it?”
Crane
sighed, got up and began to pace in short circles by Nelson’s bed, his fingers
twisting his ring in an agitated motion.
“I…I
should have come after you,” he said quietly after his third circuit. “I’m sorry.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“When
we heard the yacht had been sunk, Chip wanted to go in after you. I told him no. We needed to follow orders. I can’t help but feel it was the wrong thing
to do.”
“Why? It’s what I ordered you to do. If you think about it, really think about it,
you’ll see it was the right thing to
do.”
“How
can you say that? It almost cost you
your life!”
“Almost. But even if it had cost me my life, it was still
the right thing. If you had taken Seaview in after me, you would have been
risking the lives of 125 men to save one man.
The PR’s navy had already pounded the boat. I’m guessing there was damage?”
“Yes,
but…”
“No,
Lee. No buts…you did the right thing.
Let it go.”
Crane
sighed and shook his head. “It’s easier
to let it go now that I know you’re going to be all right I guess,” he said as
he seated himself by Nelson’s side again, gazing at him in speculation. “You know, you haven’t been strong enough to
talk about what happened. Do you feel up
to talking about it?”
Nelson
glanced away from Crane’s probing gaze and was silent for a bit, not really
wanting to talk, or even think about what he’d been through. “Not much to talk about,” he said after a
moment’s silence. “I got on board with
no problems. Convinced Brynov to let me
look at the microfilm and examined it. I
believed what he said about the missile sites being offensive sites and that
the PR was planning a nuclear strike.
Shortly after I talked to you, we heard the sound of dive bombers.” Nelson snorted. “Brynov said there was no way they would find
us in the fog and that we were safe.”
“But
they did find you.”
“Yes,
with inside help. Not all of Brynov’s
group was loyal to him. Someone knew the
coordinates had been given and they launched a raft. Saved a few of our lives. At least until we picked up Brynov,” he said
sourly as he remembered the bloodbath.
“What
do you mean? How many of you survived?”
Nelson’s
brow furrowed as he tried to remember. “Nine I think.” There were eight of us at first. Mikhil, Brynov’s brother, died shortly after
we got to the raft. Then we found Brynov
and took him aboard. Three more were in
the water.”
“And
yet only you and Brynov lived.”
“Yes,”
Nelson said quietly as he remembered.
“Just the two of us. Concerns for
the raft floundering and the food and water issue sent Brynov into a killing
frenzy leaving only five of us. When
Semenev traded water for the information that the sites were really defensive
not offensive ones, Brynov shot him.
Brynov told the doctor, uh…Konstantin to take my gun and throw it into
the sea. I knew if I had a chance at all
it was then. I tried to get up to go
after the gun but the raft bobbled and I lost my balance I guess. Brynov shot me. It was then we found out Dr. Konstantin,
Brynov’s personal physician, was the one who had radioed the coordinates and
launched the raft.”
“Why? Why would a doctor, Brynov’s hand picked
doctor, do that?”
“He
hated what Brynov had become. Felt he
betrayed his country by what he was willing to do to come back in victory. He knew what our launching of nuclear
missiles would do to his country and he refused to sit by and watch. He wanted to get the microfilm from him.”
“What
happened then?” Crane asked as he watched Nelson struggle to stay awake.
“After
Brynov shot me, Konstantin took my gun and put it to Brynov’s throat, told him
what he thought of him and tried to get the microfilm. But then Brynov’s friend Josip, who’d been
asleep, woke up and grabbed the gun.
They started to fight over it, Brynov grabbed it. Josip and Konstantin fought and went
overboard.”
“Were
they dead?”
“I…
I don’t know,” Nelson said as he closed his eyes briefly as if to blot out the
memory. “They disappeared almost
immediately. I tried to go back but the current was taking us too fast and the
raft wouldn’t respond. Plus, a storm was
coming up. That coupled with the number
of sharks that had been following us, I didn’t think there was much chance they
were alive. And Brynov didn’t seem to
care that they were gone. I guess he
thought there was just that much more food and water for us. Josip was his friend and yet he just…didn’t
care. I don’t understand how he could…”
Crane
watched as Nelson’s brow furrowed as he thought of what Brynov had allowed to
happen, the sacrifice Josip was willing to make for his friend: a friend that
hadn’t even tried to help him.
“So
you were all alone on that raft with Brynov?” he asked, bringing Nelson back to
his story with a start.
“Yes…yes. The storm capsized us shortly after
that. We managed to climb on top of the
raft, away from the sharks. By morning I
could see Brynov lying on the upside down raft.
I tried to get to the gun but he woke up just as I got to him. We turned the raft right side up and
continued on.”
“Towards
the rendezvous.”
“No,
not towards the rendezvous. I
deliberately steered us off course so I could get the microfilm. I knew Brynov would eventually give in when
we ran out of water and drink the sea water.
So when he was asleep, I drank as much of our remaining water that I
could and dumped the rest overboard.
When he woke up, he found out we were off course. He took over, sitting proudly in the stern of
that little raft with a smug smile on his face, like he was the king of that
little piece of rubber.”
“And
then?”
Nelson
was beginning to tire but he wanted to finish his story, he struggled to keep
his eyes from closing. “Then…he tried to
get a drink, found it was empty and got a bit mad.”
“A
bit?”
Nelson
laughed. “I told him we would see which
one of us survived. When I saw him drink
from the sea, I knew I’d won. He passed
out; I grabbed the microfilm and the gun and got us back on course for the
rendezvous. That’s pretty much all I
remember. I tried to stay awake but I
kept falling asleep or passing out, I don’t know which. The sun was so hot and with that blasted
black uniform sweater on, I had trouble staying alert. Next thing I know, I’m here and you’re
looking down at me.”
“When
you didn’t show up, we searched for you in a spiral pattern until we found you
at the coordinates. I have to tell you,
I was never so happy to see a little rubber raft in my life!”
“I…I
imagine so,” he said with a slight smile.
“The whole experience…It’s not something I…I ever want to…to…” Nelson’s
eyes flickered then closed as the sleep he had warded off while he told his
story came to claim him and he gave in willingly, a slight smile on his lips.
“Rest
now, Admiral,” Lee said as he squeezed Nelson’s shoulder tightly. “It’s all over now.” Leaning back in the chair he’d spent many
hours sitting in, Crane examined the face of his commanding officer and friend
closely. The ravages of the fever and
the ordeal on the boat still marked his face and body but they grew less every
day, the unnatural redness on his face fading to a warm brown tone, unusual in
a submariner. His gaze lowered to
Nelson’s legs, one lying flat and one heavily bandaged and elevated on pillows,
but still there. He shook his head at
the knowledge of how close the man had come to not only losing his leg, but his
life as well. Whether it was a silent
testament to Nelson’s strong, stubborn constitution or Jamieson’s excellent
doctoring, or a combination of both, he didn’t know. The only thing he knew for sure was that this
time there was a happy ending: one Crane hadn’t thought would be a possibility
only a few days ago. He only hoped there
weren’t too many more missions such as this one. After all, Seaview was a private research vessel. What were the odds?
With
a smile, Crane rose and headed out to inform Chip he owed Lee dinner at his
choice of restaurant after winning the bet on how long it would take until the
admiral asked when he would be let out of
The End
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