Plan B

By R. L. Keller

 

Admiral Harriman Nelson let a heavy sigh escape as his plane landed in Santa Barbara.  His flight from DC to LA had been bad enough and he was regretting his decision to fly commercial instead of using FS1.  But he was ever so grateful that the short commuter flight to get him home hadn’t been any longer.  The much smaller plane really didn’t have a first-class section and, while he was sitting as far forward as possible, two rows back was a young woman with a small baby who apparently wasn’t handling the air pressure changes in his ears well at all.  Nelson wasn’t angry that the woman could do nothing to calm the baby but he was extremely glad for the return of quiet!  With just his carry-on bag and briefcase he quickly escaped the terminal and walked the short distance to the parking garage where he’d left his car the three days he’d been dragged away from NIMR for meetings at the Pentagon.  He hated having to deal with Washington bureaucracy but it was occasionally unavoidable.

Before starting the car he dialed the cellphone of his boat’s captain, Cdr. Lee Crane, then instantly hit ‘end’.  His tired brain had forgotten for that brief second that Lee had been called away for an ONI mission.  Nelson wasn’t overly pleased that the Navy’s intelligence gathering branch continued to ‘borrow’ Lee from time to time, but with his own ties to the agency early in his career he understood Lee’s feelings of commitment.  Nelson grinned as he punched in the number of his boat’s XO – and Lee’s best friend – Lt. Cdr. Charles P. Morton.  Known to his friends as Chip, the blond did not mince words when it came to his dislike of Lee’s continued association with the Office of Naval Intelligence.  Chip was perfectly aware that his harping would never stop Lee from accepting ONI missions.  But it had become so normal that both he and Lee expected the rants to happen.  They were usually conducted in relative privacy but both Nelson and NIMR’s CMO, Dr. Will Jamison, were no stranger to the outbursts and would usually just stand back and stay out of the way when Chip let loose one of his temper storms.

Nelson grinned again.  Lee was ever so patient with his friend, understanding what was behind the rants.  It seemed Lee never made it back without an owee of some sort…  Nelson’s grin faded and his train of thought died as there was no ring from Chip’s phone.  Nothing, like it was dead.  That’s not right, Nelson muttered to himself.  He almost dialed NIMR Security but since he had to drive right by Chip’s condo complex anyway he slowed down and checked for the blond’s SUV in the parking lot.  Right where it should be, Nelson pulled in and was shortly knocking on Chip’s door.

Through an open window came the sounds of light jazz from the stereo, and presently the door was opened by a surprised Chip Morton.  “Sir?” came almost hesitantly. 

But whatever Nelson was about to say got sidetracked as he saw what the blond was wearing.  Correct to the last little detail on duty, to the point of being dressed in uniforms so crisp that they almost crackled, today Chip was barefoot and dressed in ratty cut-off jeans and a t-shirt.  It was, however, what was printed on the shirt that stopped Nelson cold.

99 bugs in the code                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     99 bugs in the code                                                                                                                                    Take one down                                                                                                                                            and patch it up                                                                                                                                             132 bugs in the code

Nelson burst out laughing.  Turning a few shades red, Chip stepped back and invited Nelson in.  The condo was immaculate, as always when Nelson had been inside.  But through a door that had always until today been closed Nelson caught a glimpse of Chip’s true passion, second only to his duty to NIMR and Seaview – electronic parts and components of every shape and size were scattered all over several counters and tabletops.

“Sir?” Chip tried again as Nelson got control of his chuckles.

“Tried calling you from the airport and your phone doesn’t seem to be working,” Nelson got out as he took a couple more steps toward the back room and glanced around before turning back.  Chip was pulling his phone out of its clip and started to frown.

“How the blazes…”  He started pressing things.  “Sorry, sir.  Somehow it got turned off,” and he looked up, a worried expression starting to form.

Nelson held up a hand.  “Relax, Chip.  I was only going to ask if by chance you’d heard from Lee.”

The blond’s expression went from worried to ticked.  “No, sir,” he growled softly, causing Nelson to smile.

“Down, Chip,” he said softly.  Chip nodded but his expression didn’t change, and Nelson sent him a nod.  “I’m guessing,” he waved a hand lightly, “that the upgrades to Seaview’s computers that you were working on are complete.”  His smile was back.  No way would the submarine’s XO be at home if there was any work left unfinished – Sunday afternoon or not!

“Upgrades done, supply orders for the next two cruises under control, and half of Lee’s reports finished.”  He smirked slightly.  “I left the harder ones for him when he gets back.”  Chip had easily recognized Nelson’s efforts to calm down his slightly irritated XO and decided to play along.

“Sounds perfect,” Nelson told him with another grin.  “Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Sorry about the phone, sir,” Chip said as they walked back toward the front door.  “Have no idea how I managed to do that.”

“No biggy,” Nelson teased back, and both men grinned at the flip remark.  “Nothing pressing or NIMR Security would have been at your door instead of me,” he added lightly.

“Too true.”

“See you in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”  Nelson headed for home and Chip went back to his ‘toys’.

* * * *

At that very moment the man they had been discussing, Cdr. Lee Crane, was standing on one of the wharfs in the harbor at Peterhead, Scotland, north of Aberdeen.  The harbor lay close to the end of a point of land that faced east; across the North Sea lay Norway.  Lee wasn’t too sure why he’d wandered away from the comfort of his hotel room to stand here gazing out to sea.  Or why he’d brought his binoculars; the early morning light coupled with a heavy fog made seeing anything beyond a couple dozen yards impossible.  Even the tugboat idling alongside the dock close to his left was barely visible.  But Lee was getting antsy waiting for a contact who so far hadn’t shown up and had barely slept.  The man was supposed to come across from Bergin with intel that Lee was then going to transport to the naval submarine base at Holy Loch, across Scotland on a sea loch that opened into the Firth of Clyde.  Lee wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been asked to play courier although it could have something to with the fact that he was quite familiar with Holy Loch, having been stationed there not long after graduating from sub school coupled with the fact that he had met the other contact so they knew each other on sight.

He hadn’t been overly busy – for a change – when Admiral Robert Jones, head of ONI, had called to ask for his services, and Lee had sort of jumped at the chance to visit a country he dearly loved.  But what he’d apparently forgotten was how quickly the weather could change!  He was extremely glad that he’d grabbed his high-necked rain jacket to wear over a polo shirt and black jeans but he was starting to regret not having pulled on socks instead of merely slipping his feet into a pair of lightweight canvas tennis shoes.

He wasn’t even sure what kind of intel was so important that it took actual couriers to deliver it instead of a phone call, telex, or e-mail.  And high-level couriers at that – both Lee and the man he was meeting, Andy Danilo, were among an elite group of ONI agents normally only used for specialized assignments.  As usual Admiral Jones had been long on orders but short on details: the assignment was to be carried out at all costs.  Period!

Movement from the tug caught his eye and, without seeming to look in that direction, looked anyway and saw a man step out of the wheelhouse and down to the dock.  The fog was wafting in and out in thick layers with the slight breeze and the man was halfway to where Lee was standing before Lee recognized him as the agent he was meeting.  Neither paid much attention to a couple of men ambling seemingly innocently along the dock from the direction Lee had come – from the landing.  But Lee had no more than started to smile and turn toward Andy when the agent pulled out a gun.  Lee heard a shot and felt an instant pain in his left shoulder before he was shoved sideways and fell into the icy-cold water.  He thought that he heard more shots but was struggling too much just to stay afloat and breathe to be sure.

It felt like hours but could only have been barely a minute before a strong hand grasped his right arm and he was tugged back onto the wharf.  “Wha…what…happened?” he tried to get out between teeth chattering badly from both the cold and the pain.

“One thing at a time,” came in a woman’s voice.  “Let’s get you to the boat,” and she tried to get Lee to stand up.

Lee resisted and looked around before becoming extremely nauseous at the sight of three bodies lying very close to him.  “Andy,” he breathed softly between the spasms.

“Dead,” the woman told him flatly.  “As are the other two.  From what I could see, one of the men shot you and the other one shoved you into the water.  Danilo shot both of them but not before one got off another shot at him.”  She tugged at Lee again.  “You need to get to the tug before someone else comes along.”

“Who are you?” Lee finally looked at her fully.  Maybe forty-five, blonde, sturdily built; not what Lee would call pretty but not ugly, either.

“Your package.”

* * * *

The next hour was a bit of a nightmare for Lee.  He watched helplessly as the woman, who finally identified herself as Yana Avdonina, dumped the three bodies into the water after gathering up all the weapons and then practically dragged Lee aboard the tugboat.  While Lee understood the need to quickly dispose of the bodies he was miserable that he could do nothing further for his friend and fellow agent.  But he was also barely conscious by the time Ms. Avdonina got him to the cabin on the tug and started stripping off Lee’s cold, soggy, clothes.  Lee tried to shove her away and pull a blanket over himself.  A string of Russian oaths was muttered just loud enough for Lee to translate – and then wish he hadn’t.  Between the blood loss and deepening hypothermia from his dunking he finally lost his battle to stay awake.

The smell of coffee brought him back but simply trying to turn his head brought such a sharp pain that he sucked in a large breath, remained as still as possible, and slowly opened his eyes.  The tug’s engines were still in idle-mode but the movement seemed choppier than what the water had been like earlier.  There was a large bandage on Lee’s bare left shoulder and the clothes he’d been wearing were laying on the deck next to the backpack from his hotel room – the only thing he’d carried by way of luggage.

“Found your key,” came from the stairs and Ms. Avdonina walked into view carrying a heavy ceramic mug.  “Once I moved the tug further out on the wharf and bandaged the wound as best I could, I cleared your room.”

“My passport and wallet were in the room safe.”

She shrugged and pointed to one of the smaller backpack pockets, where Lee could see a corner of his passport sticking out.  “Those safes are not worth using, they are so simple to break into.”  Her voice was accented but not heavily.  “I was unable to remove the bullet.  Small caliber, it did not go all the way through.  That will need dealing with.”

“Ouch,” Lee mumbled softly and tried to sit up.  But between the pain, and the quickly evident fact that he was naked, stopped the movement.

The woman grinned as Lee tried unsuccessfully to cover his embarrassment.  “Coffee?” she asked.

“Please!” Lee got out with feeling.  He pushed himself into more of a sitting position but was extremely careful with the blanket.  “You can handle the boat.”  It wasn’t a question.

She cringed slightly as she handed him a mostly full mug.  “Not really,” she admitted.  “Andy showed me the basics, just in case…”  Her voice trailed off.  “I managed to move us away from…”  She hesitated and Lee sent her a nod.  “But I would hate to try to go very far.”  She looked at him.  “I was even afraid to turn off the motors; afraid that I could not get them started again.”

“But we’re wasting fuel.  How far away did you get us?”

She shrugged.  “Just around the next corner of the wharf, to where I spotted an open spot away from too many other boats.  And there is a mostly full fuel tank.  Andy filled it just before we docked where you found us.”

“I think you found me,” Lee corrected.  He tried to shift position and barely kept from screaming.  A few of the woman’s previously muttered Russian oaths came out.

She raised an eyebrow.  “You speak Russian?”

“I manage.”  He tried to look out one of the portholes but they were all covered.  “Still foggy?”

“Almost worse,” she confirmed.

“Not necessarily a bad thing,” Lee told her.  “But we shouldn’t stay here.”

“You can not move and I am not comfortable…”

Lee tried to raise his left hand, grimaced, and glared at the woman.  “Give me a minute…or a few,” he amended, “to put some pants on.  I’ll navigate, you drive.”

She looked skeptical but took his mug and pushed his backpack closer before heading back up to the wheelhouse.

There was more muttering, in several languages, as Lee spent longer than he wanted to do nothing more than pull on a clean pair of jeans.  He found a heavy jacket hanging on a peg, assumed that it was Andy’s, and with a shudder pulled it on his right arm and draped it over his left.  He didn’t even try to put on his soggy shoes.  Taking a couple of deep breaths he growled a few more oaths, this time in English, and very slowly joined Ms. Avdonina, extremely grateful to practically fall into the second captain’s chair.  Tugs of this size usually only had one.  Closing his eyes he took another couple of deep breaths before starting to look around, checking gauges and instruments.  He looked outside, happened to catch his reflection in one of the windows, and involuntarily shuddered; he looked like he’d been caught in a tornado!  He’d been in need of a haircut anyway and the dunking in the harbor had turned his hair into an unruly mass of curls.  Groaning, he tried to bring some order to the mess by running the fingers of his right hand through them before deciding it was probably hopeless.  His mood wasn’t helped as he noticed Ms. Avdonina grinning at him.  “Ms…” he started.

“Yana,” she interrupted.  “It is easier.”

“Lee,” he offered.  “Maps and charts?”  She pulled out several, then showed them to Lee one at a time as she realized that, one-handed, he was unable to deal with them all at the same time.  He finally chose one and she laid it on the controls in front of him before once more stowing the rest. 

“I think that we should go south, toward Aberdeen,” she offered.  “We can lose ourselves easier with more people around.”  She frowned.  “I wanted to do that already but Andy insisted meeting you here.”

Lee continued to study the chart, and had Yana turn the boat’s radio on just so he could listen to the ongoing chatter.  “Ease her away from the dock, then I’ll take the wheel long enough for you to go pull in the bumpers,” he ordered.  She stiffened, but accepted with a quick nod and they were shortly travelling slowly away from the wharf.  But she balked when Lee had her turn north and slightly east.  “Look.  I understand your logic.  But it’s also probably everyone else’s logic as well.  I say we head around the end of the point and then due west, toward Elgin.  It might just confuse whoever’s after you long enough for us to get away.”  She finally nodded.  “Did you come across from Bergin in this?”

She nodded again.  “But Andy was prepared.  He had a new name and call numbers printed on fiberglass sheets and we stopped part way across to put them in place.”

“Nice,” Lee agreed.  “That will help.  Although…” he paused, “the men who attacked us on the wharf?”

“Followed you?”

Lee tried to shrug but that simple movement was extremely painful.  “Possible, but I don’t think so.  I wasn’t even told what’s going on; just told to meet Andy.”  He sent her a raised eyebrow, an invitation to explain.

She didn’t immediately oblige, merely focused on the wheel.  Lee didn’t push.  “It might be better if you don’t know more,” finally came softly and she sent him a sideways glance.

Lee tried to smile but wasn’t sure how successful he was.  “I don’t have a problem with that,” he told her and got a surprised look back.  “Not necessary for me to know.”  He thought for a bit.  “But if I was followed, or however you and Andy were compromised, it might be a good idea to change the game plan.”

“Not go to Holy Loch?”  There was a nervous quiver in her voice; just for a moment, before she cleared her throat and sent him a firmer look.

“That’s your final destination?”

“No.”  Her voice was once again steady.  “Your Washington, DC.”

Okaaaaay,” Lee drawled as he stared at the chart.  “Plan B.”

“What is that?”

Lee sent her a smirky grin.  “I’ll let you know, just as soon as I figure it out.”  She snorted softly and once more focused on the wheel and compass.

Lee knew what he’d like to do, but under present circumstances wasn’t sure how he was going to manage it.  Not physically.  He was stubborn enough that he refused to believe he couldn’t make his body obey what his mind told it to do.  But he was honest enough to understand that he was going to have to make some compromises.  And what little he might be able to manage was going to have to be accomplished a good deal more slowly than normal.  Plan B, indeed, he told himself miserably.

It took him a few moments to realize Yana had said something to him, and he lifted what was progressively becoming a very heavy head to look her way.  “I said, please go lay down before I have to drag you below.  Again,” she added grumpily.

“I don’t want to leave you alone as long as we’re moving.”

“You are no good to me unconscious.”

“True,” Lee acknowledged.  “How far have we traveled from Peterhead?  I’m afraid I haven’t been paying close enough attention.”

“Not far enough,” was muttered back.  “In this fog it is hard to tell,” came a little more civilly.

Lee nodded wearily.  “You said Andy covered the boat’s name and number but those two thugs found you anyway.  I think…” and he had to stop as suddenly he discovered that he couldn’t think at all.  About anything.

“Lee!” broke through the mental fog and he once more glanced out at the real stuff.

“Come to dead slow,” he finally managed, “and while I keep us steady can you take those plates off so we’re back to the original?”  She sent him a doubtful stare.  “The real name and numbers will get us into a port easier than fake ones, and it might confuse the bad guys long enough for us to get away.”  She still looked skeptical but did as he asked.  Lee took the time to study the chart and the instrumentation.  There were occasional bits of conversation from the radio but so far nothing that sounded official.  Lee knew that surely the bodies had to have been found by now.

When Yana came back she was carrying a pillow and several blankets.  “If you insist on staying up here…”  He sent her a soft smile and a nod, and she quickly made a place for him to lay down.

“Stay on the heading I’ve marked for you,” he told her as he gratefully sank to the deck.  “I wish this were a fishing vessel instead of a tug; we could go faster…”  His voice trailed off and he knew no more.

She frowned before a small smile touched her face.  “Men,” she mumbled softly, walked over and tucked the blankets more firmly around Lee’s mostly bare torso and especially his bare feet before once more engaging the engines.

* * * *

Lee was confused.  His body was relaxed somewhat by the comforting feelings of motor-driven vibrations but it wasn’t his beloved Seaview.  The smells were wrong as well.  At least it wasn’t medicinal – as bad as he felt that was a possibility but the air he was breathing was more ‘open ocean’ than ‘antiseptic.’  Finally the last hours started to make an inroad and he slowly opened his eyes.  Then almost panicked when he realized how much time must have passed as it was getting dark outside the windows.  “How long?” he managed to croak out around a dry mouth.

Yana cut back the throttle and dropped to a knee next to him.  A metal cup in one hand, she helped him to sit up enough to drink.  It was only water, with a faint smell of diesel fuel, but it was nectar for Lee.  He drank too quickly and ended up choking.  She tsked at him and pulled the cup away until he was back under control, then offered it again.  Lee sent her a shy little smile, more grimace than anything, and carefully emptied the cup.  “Where are we?” came out much better.

“If I read the chart right,” she told him, returning to the pilot seat, “we just passed Saint Fergus.  I don’t remember being this slow crossing from Bergin.”

“With Andy at the helm you probably weren’t.”  He paused to shift position, trying to use the bulkhead as a back rest.  He was only partially successful and ended up with a decided list to port.  “Why a tug, do you know, instead of a fishing boat?”

There was a growl that had nothing to do with Yana once more increasing the throttle.  “Less conspicuous,” she muttered.  Lee didn’t help her frown when he nodded an agreement to the other agent’s reasoning.  “But he also didn’t expect to need it after Peterhead,” she added a little more pleasantly.

“There is that,” Lee agreed.  He also shifted slightly and didn’t get a yelp of pain totally buried.

“You need a doctor,” came firmly.

“Already working on that.”  Lee sent a small smile into her frown.  “If I remember right, my cellphone was in my jeans pocket.  Trash by now.”  He got a short nod.  “Did Andy have one?”

“Tossed just after we left Bergin.  He thought they might track it.”  She didn’t specify who ‘they’ were, and Lee didn’t ask.

“And I don’t trust using the boat’s radio.”  Lee was mostly talking to himself but got a nod from Yana anyway.  “The next decent port is Fraserburgh if I’m remembering the map.”  Again a quick nod.  “With luck that will work nicely.  In the meantime, the first aid kit?”

Another frown, but Yana once more throttled down and headed below, returning with what Lee discovered was actually a well-stocked kit.  She also brought up a cup of coffee and several bagels.  They were dry and a little stale but Lee ate them anyway while Yana eased the coat off Lee’s left shoulder and unwrapped the bandage, by now stiff with dried blood.  Lee paid attention as Yana was as careful as she could be cleaning up around the small bullet hole.  It had thankfully stopped bleeding, and the bullet hadn’t hit anything too vital as far as Lee could tell.  Except for whatever germs might have gotten in, the instant dunking in the icy water had probably helped, and Yana used plenty of antibiotic salve before putting a clean bandage in place.  This time Lee eased his left arm into the sleeve of the jacket and Yana buttoned it up.  As he handed back the now empty mug he asked for paper and pencil; once those items were delivered he asked for the name of the tug, and smiled when Yana translated the old Norse name of Fiardakolla into English.

“Cow of the Fjord, indeed,” Lee chuckled.  “Slow and steady.  A great name for a tugboat.”  Yana smiled and went back to the pilot’s chair and Lee busied himself with the writing supplies.  When Yana brought him more coffee she glanced at what he had written, then sent him a raised eyebrow.  “Simple code, really,” he told her.  She took a longer look and shook her head.  He grinned.  “See, it’s working.”  Her frown returned.  On the paper Lee had written three lines of what looked like just a jumbled-up bunch of letters.  One line had a number in it.

laa1dlcgbsf

lkrffachuer

aodisntsrra

“Now all we need is a way to text these,” he told her.

“Pay phone or telex in Fraserburgh?”

Lee nodded.  “Or get really lucky and borrow someone’s cellphone.”  His turn to frown.  “But I’m not sure I want to put anyone in danger, just in case,” he added, and a quick nod added her agreement.  “Not sure the town is big enough to have a store where I could buy a burner phone.”

“You?  You can’t even walk,” she scolded him.

“You’re going to go into town to run errands?” he challenged back.

She shrugged.  “We need food as well.”

“If we can get this sent,” he gestured to the paper, “we shouldn’t have too long a wait.  Maybe 18 hours, depending on the time the messages arrive and how long it takes the Admiral to decipher them.”  Yana mouthed the word ‘admiral’ but said nothing out loud.  Lee sent her another grin.  “And no, it’s not who you might think,” he told her.  She shrugged again and went back to piloting the tug.

* * * *

“Admiral,” Nelson’s P.A. called over the intercom.  “Dr. Jamison is here to see you.”

“Send him in,” Nelson answered, wondering what had brought NIMR and Seaview’s CMO to his office so early.  Nelson himself had barely gotten in.  On the other hand, I didn’t see Chip’s SUV in the parking lot, he thought, and raised an eyebrow as the doctor walked through the door.

Dr. William Jamison, who nearly everyone at NIMR called Doc, Nelson called Will, and Lee and Chip usually called Jamie, said nothing as he walked up to Nelson’s desk, merely holding out his cellphone.  On the screen was a text message, no name attached, just a string of letters.

Nelson sent him a look and took out his own phone.  “I just assumed that it was a mistake,” he told the doctor as they compared the two texts.  But the string of letters was nowhere near similar, and Nelson’s contained a single number.  Then Chip walked in through the door Will had left open, cellphone in hand.  He said nothing, just held it out as he discovered the two older men doing the same thing.

“Huh?” all three said at basically the same time.  Nelson sat down and reached for a blank sheet of paper, quickly but carefully writing down the three lines of text.  As he stared at them, Chip walked over and shut the office door before he and Will sat down as well.  They stayed quiet as Nelson puzzled over the lines. 

But suddenly Nelson grinned.  “Lee,” he said softly, and both Will and Chip leaned forward as Nelson started to manipulate the letters.  It took him a couple of tries as he first started one line, shook his head, and tried a couple more times before his eyes started to sparkle and some actual words began to form.  Eventually he turned the paper around.

fraserburgh scotland fs1 fiardakolla

“He made three rows, wrote the first letter in the first row, second in the second, and so on, starting back at the first row until everything was spelled out.  Then he reversed the strings and sent one to each of us.”

“If one was intercepted it wouldn’t mean a thing without the others,” Chip translated.

“Exactly,” Nelson agreed.

“So, FS1 to Fraserburgh, Scotland,” Chip continued.  “What the heck is that last word?”

Nelson stood.  “We have the time it takes us to fly there to figure that out.”  He looked at Will.  “You, too, I think.  He must have had a good reason for including you.”

“He’s on an ONI mission,” Chip growled.  “Of course he’s hurt,” came out even stronger.

“Or someone is.”  Will tried to sound a little more positive but he had his suspicions as much as the blond.

“Whatever,” Nelson told them.  “We’ll meet on Seaview in,” he glanced at his watch, “an hour?”

“I’ll have FS1 pre-flighted by then,” Chip told him and headed out.  Will and Nelson shared a look and Will headed back to Med Bay.  All three had things to do in the next hour.

* * * *

Despite getting shot and nearly drowned, Lee decided his luck was still in place; that sixth sense or whatever that had kept him alive so far in situations like this.  Or worse.  They’d pulled into Fraserburgh in the middle of the night but the person who passed for a harbormaster signed them in with only a scant look and went back to his office.  The slip he assigned them to wasn’t that close in – Lee figured that it was punishment for getting there at 0-dark-30 but it suited Lee perfectly.  He still had very little strength and his left arm was useless but he refused any kind of sling, telling Yana when she started to argue that he didn’t want to give any sign of an injury as they walked into town the next morning.  His shoes were still damp but Yana helped him put on socks that handled that small discomfort.  He covered his lack of strength by stopping frequently as if he were just looking around, taking in the sights.  They considered trying to get a room – or two – but eventually decided that staying on the tug would be just as safe, and cause less of a commotion if they were forced to defend themselves.  Wonder of wonders, they found a place to buy a phone, not cheap, and after setting it up and sending the three text messages Lee took out the battery so it couldn’t be traced.  When they bought food Lee told Yana not to get too much.  Hopefully they’d have no more than 24 hours before help arrived – he didn’t explain how. He also didn’t want to make it obvious that he was hurt as she’d have to carry what they bought back to the tug.  He told her that, if it was longer than 36 hours they would buy more supplies and move again, maybe as far as Elgin, and Lee would try again to get help.

He barely made it back to the tug before collapsing but refused to lay quietly once he woke up about three hours later, telling Yana that he would keep watch from the wheelhouse while she got some sleep; that he had no idea when the last time was she’d gotten any rest.  She sent him a smirk but stayed below without an argument while he climbed up to sit in the captain’s chair.  The weapons Yana had thought to confiscate were in a stowage locker within easy reach.

There was activity during the day all along the dock but no one seemed to pay the tug any more attention than a brief glance, for which Lee was extremely grateful.  This was a pretty, peaceful, part of Scotland, and Lee had no wish to disturb it any further than had already been done.  There was still no word over the Marine Radio Network about the deaths of three men on the Peterhead wharf.  Lee had picked up a couple newspapers that morning, using them as much for camouflage, sitting in the tug’s wheelhouse, as he did for any information he might glean from them.  But so far, at least, the police were keeping mum.  He wasn’t sure how much, if any, family Andy Danilo had.  Men tended toward ONI deep service who didn’t have a lot of people depending on them.  That was most of the reason Chip got so angry at Lee.  Lee had all of his duties at NIMR and Seaview to consider.  That, and Lee never seemed to make it back from any ONI assignment without an owee or two.

Lee grimaced as he shifted in the chair.  “One more reason to yell,” he acknowledged as the shoulder complained.  Lee was just glad that it hadn’t been any worse, mostly for Yana’s sake – whoever she was!

He was in the bunk about 0300 hours the next morning, trying to sleep but not having a whole lot of success, when Yana alerted him to something that was obviously frightening her badly.  He rose stiffly and made his way up to the wheelhouse, then nearly got slugged by the about-to-panic woman as he all but laughed out loud when he spotted a soft yellow glow coming from under the water about twenty yards off the tug’s starboard side, opposite the dock.  As it hovered in one spot, Lee made sure all seemed quiet on the dock and then grabbed a flashlight and signaled in Morse “OK.”  All yellow light instantly vanished, but soon a soft bubbling of water started right next to the tug.

* * * *

Nelson let Chip pilot what Lee tended to call Seaview’s bright yellow offspring, the Flying Sub.  He navigated, and also spent time trying to decipher the last word in Lee’s message.  He did find a literal translation – Cow of the Fjord.  All that accomplished was further aggravating an already ticked off Chip.  Will sat in one of the back seats trying not to dwell on what kind of damage Lee had done to himself this time.  Nelson had Chip stay airborne, but far out to sea, until they were well around to Scotland’s east coast, then they submerged before trying to get anywhere near the town of Fraserburgh.

They were nearly there when Nelson finally stumbled upon a possible answer to the dilemma caused by the unfamiliar word.  There was a tugboat by that name checked into the Harbormaster’s logbook.  They went dark as they approached the marina and Nelson searched with night vision instrumentation as Chip slowly cruised around until they found the tug.  Nelson then had Chip turn on a couple of small lights, hoping Lee would spot them.  If, of course, they were even in the right place and had the right tug.

Apparently they were.  There was some brief activity in the wheelhouse, then nothing, then more activity, and finally a flashlight coded out “OK.”  All three men let out breaths they hadn’t been aware that they were holding, and Chip once more doused the lights and sidled up to the tug’s starboard side.

By that time Lee had descended to the back deck and tossed a couple of bumpers over the side.  Yana stayed in the wheelhouse.  Lee momentarily wondered if he should have taken away the weapons.  But hopefully she’d figured out by this time that Lee recognized whatever, and whoever, was approaching, and wouldn’t shoot them on sight!

He sent Nelson a smile as the auburn-haired head popped out the top hatch, but shook his head as Nelson would have climbed out and boarded the tug.  “We need gone, sir,” Lee told him simply, then motioned for Yana to join him.  “Grab whatever gear you have and my backpack, please,” he told her.  “Our ride’s here.  I hope that you’re not claustrophobic.”  Nelson shorted at that comment as he watched who he thought was a woman, but wasn’t sure.  Yana had donned a heavy peacoat and scarf for her night watch and not much of her was visible.

Nelson was a little concerned when Lee allowed the other person to do all of the work getting three bags and Lee’s backpack from the cabin and handing them over to a waiting Nelson, who then one by one handed them down to Will, standing at the bottom of the ladder.  Next Lee had her – Nelson decided that it was, indeed, a woman – climb over and down the ladder before Lee struggled to make the short transfer.  Wanting to help, Nelson grabbed the nearest arm.  Unfortunately he grabbed Lee’s left arm, but immediately let go when Lee all but screamed.  “Oops,” he muttered, and Lee sent him a small smile.

“What did he do this time?” came from below in Chip’s aggravated tone.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Lee sniped back, an old joke used way too often by Lee.  Nelson snorted but very carefully stayed out of Lee’s way as he managed to get to the ladder and start down.  Two pairs of hands were waiting to help, thankfully, and Lee sent Chip a nod as he settled into the closest back seat.  Nelson quickly got the hatch shut and Chip concentrated on once more diving.  All was dark so everyone maintained their positions as Chip gracefully and smoothly moved far enough out, and deep enough, so that he could turn on the lights.

Lee heard Nelson almost gasp.  “Dr. Avdonina,” he barely got out.

“Admiral Nelson?” came hesitantly from Yana as she pulled off her scarf.

“I gather you two know each other,” Lee got out quite normally before he passed out.

* * * *

Lee was once more confused.  Every time he fell asleep the whole world seemed to change and it was making him a little crazy.  This time he could feel a soft mattress and pillow under him but he knew that he was no longer on FS1 because nothing was moving.  Not Seaview, either, because no comforting vibrations that so often lulled him to sleep at night.  Antiseptic smells sunk in and his eyes popped open.  Hospital room, he told himself.  Somewhere, and he looked around for any clues.  Nothing was forthcoming as through the window there was only darkness   But almost immediately he no longer cared as unconsciousness once more claimed him.

He was standing on the wharf in Peterhead.  He didn’t see the tugboat, just a whole bunch of people, both men and women, standing around him.  They were even out on the water, and they were all holding guns.  He didn’t recognize any faces at first, but suddenly he did.  Andy Danilo was staring at him, pointing a pistol at Lee’s face.  But before he could shoot Will Jamison walked in front of Andy, took his gun, and fired.  Lee didn’t even know who Will had shot because at that instant his eyes popped open.

“Bad dream?” came from his left and Lee turned his head to find Jamie standing next to him, reading from a medical chart in its familiar aluminum jacket.

“Must had been,” Lee mumbled.  “You were in it.”

Will snickered but told him firmly, “Go back to sleep.”  Lee was actually happy to oblige.

He felt much better the next time he woke up, and a quick glance around showed the sun shining.  He tried to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed but fell back from just trying to raise his head.  “Care to try that again?” came from the doorway, and Jamie walked in and crossed his arms over his chest as he glared down at his very worst patient.

“No,” Lee grumbled then added, not quite to himself, “at least for another minute or two.”  Jamie snorted and spent a few minutes checking Lee over.

“How is he, Will?” came from the still open door, and Lee watched as Admiral Nelson walked up to the foot of the bed.

“Right now I wouldn’t certify him fit to cross the street by himself,” Will muttered, but finally sent both men a grin as it was Nelson’s turn to snort.  “But if you’re ready, I think we can transfer him to FS1 for the trip home.”

“Home?” Lee demanded, and tried to see out the window.  “Where are we?  Sir,” wasn’t quite an afterthought.

“You,” Nelson told him, “are at Bethesda.  I’ve been helping get Dr. Avdonina settled.”

“Who is she, sir?” came out somewhat plaintively, and Will and Nelson exchanged looks.

“You don’t know?” Nelson asked.

“We never got beyond names,” Lee told him.

“That explains why you were such a surprise to her,” Will told Nelson.

The Admiral nodded.  “We stayed away from discussing much about how she ended up with Lee,” Nelson told him, then turned back to Lee.  “Dr. Yana Avdonina is one of the premier nuclear physicists in the world,” he said.  “I met her briefly when I went to that conference in Moscow a few years ago.”

“That explains her swearing in Russian,” Lee told him softly.

“You do seem to have that effect on people,” came from the doorway, and Chip walked in.  “At least those you meet on ONI assignments,” he added, in reference mostly to their several meetings with ONI agent Michelle Ortiz.

Will grinned and Nelson chuckled softly as Lee’s darker Mediterranean complexion didn’t cover his blush.  “There’s been talk that Dr. Avdonina has wanted to defect,” Nelson continued, “but they kept too close a watch on her.”

“How did ONI get involved?” Lee wanted to know.

“Robert,” Nelson referenced ONI’s director, Admiral Robert Jones, “is rather pleased with the operation.”

“Tell that to Andy’s family,” Lee growled.

“Whose body has been recovered and being returned as we speak,” Nelson confirmed solemnly.  “Robert didn’t elaborate but, as no one was expecting ONI to get involved with this kind of defection attempt, it probably made things a little easier all the way around.”

Lee nodded and finally relaxed back against the pillow.  “Home?” he asked Jamie.

“One-track mind,” Will muttered.

“I just wish he’d think about that before he takes off,” Chip complained.

Lee started to snap back at his insolent XO.  One look at Nelson’s face closed his mouth but not without an inward smile.  It was nice to be back among his friends!