THE PUPPET
MASTER
by Fidelma
C.
“I can’t!”
The casual backhand from the meaty fist split
the girl’s lip and she recoiled in agony but knew better than to cry out.
“Can’t?
Or won’t, my dear?” The accented
voice was silky and thoroughly odious.
“And, I should warn you, ‘won’t’ is not a word that appears in my
vocabulary. ‘Won’t’ is a word that
causes pain. And ‘can’t’ is not far
behind. So, before you continue, perhaps
you might like to consider the repercussions of your last statement?”
She sobbed, torn between loyalty and love. She could taste her blood, running down the
inside of her mouth, and licked the metallic tang of it as she defiantly stared
him down.
“Won’t then.
If that pleases you better!”
He sighed loudly, theatrically, and she could
smell the unpleasant odour of him, scented the menacing power of him, whimpered
as she watched him approach and strained against the bonds that held her. She was utterly terrified.
“Your honesty is laudable, my sweet. But you see, I do my homework. And I do it really well. You have a younger brother – a much younger
brother – what is he, twelve, maybe thirteen?
He rides his bicycle to school every day. Down the road that leads from your parents’
house, turns onto the main street and travels two blocks to the school. I know your parents worry so much about those
two blocks, terrified a car might side swipe him. Did you know they check his safety helmet
every evening? What loving parents. Are you such a loving sister?”
The implicit threat was her undoing.
“You are my puppet, little one. All you have to do is deliver a
package.” The insidious voice continued
as the tears trickled silently down cheeks now pale under the deep
****
The headaches were becoming more persistent,
increasingly pervasive, and Nelson rubbed a hand across his forehead as the
pain impinged on his concentration. This
was also annoyingly frequent. Daily his
focus seemed to be diminishing as he struggled valiantly to complete the final
phase of Project Discovery.
He thumbed open the phial of Excedrin he kept
in his desk and swallowed two capsules dry.
Jamie would rail at him if he knew but Nelson had worked so hard the
past six months, it was unsurprising that time and the biological call of nature
were catching up with him. After all, he
wasn’t getting any younger – he’d be 54 this summer. And he hadn’t been out on Seaview for
the best past of half a year. He missed
her! Only knowing that Lee had command
of his “best girl”, allowing him to concentrate on his lab work, had eased his
conscience. But he missed her -
badly! She was as much his “grey lady”
as she was Crane’s. Nelson snorted with
some amusement. He may have built Seaview
and intimately knew every inch of her schematics but her captain was her very
soul, the crew her arteries and veins, her exec the blood coursing through her
- ensuring all areas were appropriately maintained so that she could perform to
her optimum. Nelson knew his staff well
– had handpicked them from the cream the US Navy had to offer and trusted them
absolutely with his prized possession.
But still part of him resented the enforced sojourn in
But sometimes, the restrictions galled
him. He longed to be aboard his boat,
relished being in the thick of the action – and there was always action
guaranteed aboard Seaview!
Nelson scrubbed at his eyes wearily. Maybe he needed to have them checked. Perhaps all this computer-based analytical
SH… was causing eyestrain. Seaview
was due to sail soon and he thought he might have Jamieson perform an eye exam
to determine if he, maybe, needed glasses.
Or perhaps not! If Will got him into his
clutches he probably wouldn’t be seen again for days! Which reminded him, he’d been in
Angie Newman’s sunny nature hid a fiercely
astute brain and she hadn’t risen to the position of P.A. to the head of NIMR
without the street smarts to go with her keen intellect. Upon her return to the office and hearing her
boss’s muttered “I’ll be at home for the rest of the day, Angie” on her
voicemail, coupled with getting no response from there to her enquiry regarding
the meetings still scheduled for the day, her antennae began to twitch. This was so unlike the admiral! But then her Boss hadn’t been himself for the
past couple of weeks. She couldn’t quite
put her finger on it. He’d been spending
an inordinate amount of time in his lab during the preceding months and very
little aboard his beloved boat. A smart
girl, she’d reconciled the two and put his bad humour down to abstinence! If Lee or Chip hadn’t been so busy she’d have
discussed it with them and perhaps persuade them to entice him onto the boat
for a lengthy cruise! And get him out of
her hair!
She grinned indulgently, prepared to cut the
admiral some slack; he’d been working horrendous hours for the past couple of
months with no relief in the form of a mission aboard Seaview to relax
him – as much as any mission aboard Seaview could relax the crew. She had become the person who ran NIMR in the
absence of Nelson or the Seaview Command Crew. Now the job was growing beyond proportion,
with the Institute taking on more and more worthy projects, and Nelson becoming
increasingly uncommunicative, bogged down as he had become in his
research.
At day’s end she crossed to the omni-present
coffee pot that resided on her credenza. Emptying the contents, she replaced
the filter, filled it with aromatic freshly ground coffee and replenished the
water, leaving it ready for the first person to enter the office next morning –
all they had to do was just hit the switch.
****
After a restless night, during which he’d
tossed and turned unable to persuade his over-tired body to succumb to proper
sleep, Nelson woke unrefreshed at his customary 0530. He dragged himself out of bed, hit the
shower, shaved and dressed automatically, his head throbbing badly enough to
make him seek out the analgesic in his bathroom cabinet. Having downed two pills with a swallow of
water, his stomach slightly nauseous, he decided to forego his usual breakfast
ritual and head for the office where Angie would have laid on a pot of his
newly favourite blend of coffee.
He turned the key in the sedan’s ignition
reflecting, through the pain that stabbed at his head, what a find Angie had
been. The girl was more than competent
as a secretary, loyal to a fault, knew when to nag him and when to leave him
alone – a talent in itself – and could make damn good coffee to boot! Plus she got on well with the Seaview’s
Command Staff and could soothe the likes of Jiggs Starke, Donald Evans from
ONI, four star Whatzits from Alphabet Agencies and wasn’t even fazed by calls
from the President himself! She was the
best assistant he’d ever had and he made a mental note to authorise a raise for
her – she’d put up with his unrelenting moods for the past six months.
Nelson knew he’d been a particular bear this
past couple of weeks. He needed to
finish Project Discovery! The State
Department were counting on him. It had
seemed so easy just six short weeks ago.
All he had to do was put the final test phase into operation. He’d known it was a go! Just a formality! Now his head ached so badly
that he could hardly concentrate on the figures the test results threw out at
him. And Seaview was due to sail
in less than a week! With Project
Discovery on board for its first ‘live’ test.
Which caused his immediate problem! Project Discovery wasn’t quite ready for sea
trials. He’d been unable to complete the
final tests necessary to ensure the safety of the “live” trials needed to put
the Project into general release. And,
God knew, it was eagerly anticipated within the increasingly nervous US high
command, at least among the few who were privy to its existence.
Nelson was due to meet with his senior staff at
0800 to review the status of the boat. Seaview
had been dry-docked for several weeks being outfitted with new computers, much
to the joy of her First Officer, Chip Morton.
The man was a whiz kid when it came to computers and constantly
researched new developments to enhance Seaview’s advanced capabilities,
pushing, nay nagging, Nelson to embrace the cutting edge in computer
technology. Nelson, designer and owner
of the Seaview, was forced to defer to his subordinate in I.T. matters
and, truth be known, it bothered him.
But he trusted Morton implicitly; having handpicked him for his
brainchild submarine above many others, knowing his potential was wasted riding
a desk in Washington.
But Nelson had had worries beyond this computer
enhancement and the refit of Seaview – kindly paid for by the Navy as
the boat was on secondment when the SH1T hit the proverbial! Consequently costs were defrayed and the
Institute was solely responsible for seeing to the computer upgrade, while the
Navy absorbed the cost of the repairs to the boat herself. In dry dock the Navy, ultimately, paid for the
down time of both the boat and her crew.
And without a moment’s complaint.
Those in the know in ComSubPac and ComSubLant were
happy to pay the bills cogniscent of the fact that, without Seaview’s
involvement, life as we know it, would have ceased to exist. The gratitude of Presidents’, Prime
Ministers’ et al and the promise of medals, was secondary to proving the worth
of Project Discovery though! And the
entire cost of both project and shake down was being borne by the
Institute. So it was imperative that the
tests yielded fruit!
For the fist time in his entire Naval career,
from Midshipman to Four Star Admiral, he was flummoxed, unable to comprehend a
solution to his findings. He was fit to
be tied. He pounded the steering wheel
in frustration, thinking ahead to his meeting and suddenly, his headache
surging to monumental proportions, he almost rear-ended the SUV in front of him
at the traffic lights. Get a grip on
yourself, Nelson, he groused. You’re
no good to anyone lying in a hospital if you smash up your car now, are
you? That won’t get Discovery finished
and installed on the boat before we sail!
****
Acknowledging the salute from the vigilant security staff at the Institute’s main gate, he drove past the raised barrier, parked in his usual spot, ascended the steps and slowly crossed the lobby to the bank of elevators, absently returning the salute of the M.P. at the front desk.
Automatically he unlocked the outer door,
traversed Angie’s empty office, hitting the switch on the coffee percolator as
he passed, and punched in the code that opened the door to his own large office
suite. Dropping his briefcase and cover
onto the massive desk he moved directly to the corner window where the sight
before him never failed to take his breath.
The massive submarine, Seaview, his creation, his dream and now
his reality, rested in her pen. The
gleam of early morning sunlight on her glossy silver grey hull reminded him why
he’d chosen Santa Barbara as the site for his Institute. Aside from the channel that led to the
breakwater, the climate had been the main attraction for Nelson. Originally from Boston, the harsh winters
were now a thing of the past for him.
Even on a bad day the temperature in Santa Barbara was pleasant and the
shimmer of sunlight reflecting off the newly painted structure gladdened his
heart momentarily.
This early in the morning the dock was
deserted, save the security detail and, as he turned back into his office
Nelson noted the absolute silence of the building. That wouldn’t last long, he knew. The Institute would begin filling up by
0800. Therefore he’d better get a move
on if he wanted to get anything done before the madness of the day started. He pulled the schematics for Discovery from
his briefcase and began to go over the papers again – for the nth time! Scrabbling in his drawer he popped another
two pain pills and swallowed them dry once again. Jamie really would kill him if he ever found
out!
****
“I tell you, Lee, you should have come. It was a terrific game! The quarterback threw a record yardage and
the….”
A dry, smiling voice interrupted the passionate one. “But did Anna enjoy the game as much as you did, I ask myself? Maybe you’d have been wiser to join Lauren and me for the candlelit dinner at Bertoni’s. The food was wonderful, the company excellent and the…..ahem whole evening was very pleasant.”
A wry moan was the only response. Then “Well, she did say to look her up next
time we’re in port. She’s just a bit
busy the rest of this week.”
Sympathetic laughter floated. “You do pick ‘em, Chip.”
“If you two gentlemen could can the
discussion of your love lives, we do have a meeting scheduled!” The grating tone of an obviously irate
Admiral came from the inner office and had both men exchanging curious glances
and raised eyebrows.
Their meeting was due for 0800 and it was
barely 0715 now. They had planned on
going to their own offices first to review their notes but this was patently no
longer an option. And an early morning
meeting with an obviously narky admiral was going to be no picnic. Handing his bulging briefcase to the khaki
clad officer with three broad gold stripes on his sleeves, the blond quickly
crossed to the credenza and poured two large mugs of freshly brewed coffee,
silently thanking the ever-efficient Angie.
Holding open the inner door Lee Crane allowed
Chip to precede him, beginning a smooth apology. “Sorry, Admiral, I didn’t realise you wanted
to start the meeting early…” before he turned and caught a glimpse of the older
man. Pressure of work had kept him busy
in his own office and on the boat and he hadn’t caught sight of his superior
for several days. Crane was shocked at
the changes in the man and glimpsed a similar emotion in his exec’s worried
eyes. Nelson looked positively haggard,
his craggy features even more lined than usual, his face pale and his brow
furrowed. Lee was unable to prevent an
exclamation. “Sir, you don’t look well. Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine, Lee, don’t fuss!” Came the irritated reply as he opened his desk drawer and retrieved the bottle of pain relief. Quickly shaking two small pills onto his hand he swallowed them down. Chip Morton moved forward and pushed one of the mugs towards his boss. Nodding acknowledgement, Nelson took a deep draft. “Thanks, Chip.”
Exchanging concerned glances, for Nelson really
didn’t look fine, the two officers took seats at his indication. Chip pushed the other coffee towards his
friend and captain but Lee refused with a shake of his head and a wry smile.
“I’m trying to cut down, Chip. Doc’s orders.”
Which resulted in a small snort from the blond
officer. “When have you ever obeyed
Jamie’s orders, Lee?”
“Well, I’m trying to limit my caffeine intake,
especially while I’m ashore. I’ve been drinking
more tea and Susie has been getting these herbal concoctions for me.” The captain explained amid more snickers from
his blond exec.
“Lee, there’s caffeine in tea, too!” Chip was halted by the soft roar that came
from behind the big desk.
“Gentlemen, please! I do not have all
day! Let’s get this meeting underway so
I can get back to some real work!
Project Discovery is not going to test or install itself!” Nelson’s hands clenched into fists, thumping
the desk in frustration at the by-play he usually quite enjoyed.
Suitably chastened but their worry now
heightened, the two senior officers began pulling papers from their cases. Friends for many years and highly attuned to
each other’s feelings, at times almost psychic, each knew immediately what the
other man was thinking. This was most
unlike Admiral Nelson. Should they call
Jamieson?
Lee shook his head almost imperceptibly and
Chip knew they would come back to this discussion later. Taking a large drink of his coffee he
proceeded to outline the status and operational advantages of the new computers
now aboard Seaview and the necessary work schedule to complete the
programming during the coming days. As
he ended his assurance that the work would be finished well in advance of
sailing, both men became aware that Nelson’s attention was focused
elsewhere. He had barely heard one word
of Chip’s report.
“Admiral?”
Crane’s tone was hesitant. And
exchanging a further swift glance with Chip told him the other officer was
equally worried. “Sir? Are you sure you’re OK?”
”Blast it, Lee! I told you I’m
fine! So leave it alone! Please!
I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep
very well last night, if you must know.”
Nelson rubbed his forehead wearily.
The pain pills hadn’t even taken the edge off his headache. Knowing coffee wasn’t the answer but needing
the jerk it usually gave him, he levered himself from his chair and stalked to
the coffee pot in Angie’s office.
Returning he poured for both himself and Morton. Temper subsiding somewhat – he knew he was
being unfair to his senior officers – he scrubbed at his eyes and attempted to
concentrate.
****
Arriving for the day at 0750 precisely Angie
Newman was surprised to see the empty coffee pot. Hmm, Nelson obviously started early this
morning! She tapped softly on the door
and popped her head around it, unsurprised to see that Nelson wasn’t
alone. But definitely surprised that it
appeared the meeting had been going on for some time, knowing it had been scheduled
for 0800 - and it was barely that now.
She frowned and tutted, coming further into the room and grabbing for
the empty coffee cups and the overflowing ashtray, raising her eyebrows
meaningfully at the two officers seated before the Boss’s desk.
The dark haired Crane flushed under her accusing
look and somewhat sheepishly hung his head.
Angie had recruited him to try to get Nelson to stop smoking –
especially in the office. And he had
been making some progress. But no way
was he brave enough to tackle the Admiral in the mood he’d been in this
morning! His thoughts were reflected in
the golden amber gaze that returned hers and her pitying look let him off the
hook – for now.
Turning her eyes to the blond, she silently demanded his explanation. Bland, amused azure eyes met hers unblinkingly and she was now the one to blush. Muttering under her breath, something about scared little boys masquerading as big strong officers, she beat a hasty retreat, promising fresh coffee shortly.
Lee glanced admiringly at the impassive face of
his exec as the blond officer reclined easily in the chair, hands clasped
casually across his flat abdomen, long legs stretched out before him. He envied Morton his ability to disconcert
without uttering a word. He’d seen his
best friend and stalwart XO reduce crusty Sailors to quivering wrecks with the
mere raising of a single eyebrow, not a spoken word necessary. But he hadn’t thought it would work on the
redoubtable Angie. Crane speculated
silently. Well, well, was it possible
Nelson’s extremely capable assistant had a soft spot for Mr. Morton? This would bear watching. And could be fodder for some extensive
teasing! Though he’d have to watch out
for Chip’s retaliation; which, experience told him, could be nasty. Very, very
nasty!
****
Two hours and another pot of coffee later (Lee feeling virtuous that he had resisted temptation), Nelson was ready to admit that his senior staff had the operational logistics of the big boat well under control. There was no reason to suppose otherwise, his rational mind knew, they had done it many times before; and for almost half a year now, without him on board or taking part in the pre-departure routine. Perhaps that was the crux of the matter – he felt slightly jealous, superfluous to requirements, that they had things so well in hand that he was no longer necessary.
Logically he knew he had the best command team
in or out of the Navy, emotionally he resented the fact that his inventions had
detracted from his time on the boat, his girl, his creation. He rubbed his hand distractedly over his
sweating brow. He needed to complete
Project Discovery, must have it ready for installation aboard Seaview in
the next few days, had to have it worthy of the sea trials or he was putting
the boat and her entire crew at risk.
Something, he knew, Seaview’s captain would not permit.
He wondered that Crane hadn’t asked him about
the project. Knowing his captain, and
Lee’s total belief in him, he probably shouldn’t be surprised. Crane would presume the project was in the
final throes of development, that Nelson would have ironed out any potential
problems before initiating the sea trials.
Normally, Lee’s assumptions would have been correct but Nelson found it
hard to motivate himself to complete the necessary configurations. His focus was gone, his concentration
shot. He couldn’t fathom it. Never before had he experienced these
problems. Usually his mind was sharp as
a tack, his attention to detail unrelenting.
Now he had trouble reviewing the simplest mathematical equations. He
knew his officers were concerned about him.
Hell, he was worried about himself!
He wondered if stress was beginning to take its toll. He wasn’t getting any younger. Perhaps he should delegate more of his
work. But it wasn’t fair to exact any
more from Seaview’s command staff.
They had their hands full running the boat and, when in port, taking
over many of Nelson’s duties regarding the Institute. He knew he had the unmitigated loyalty of his
staff. That Crane and Morton would go to
the ends of the earth and beyond for him, he had no doubt. He had no children to inherit when his time
was done but he knew that his son of the heart, Lee Crane, and the man he
considered his big brother in all but blood, Chip Morton, were more than able
to carry forward the Institute he had created into the future.
But he didn’t want to think about that right
now. He raised a shaking hand to rub his
aching forehead. The pain seemed worse
now, despite the analgesics he’d taken, radiating from his brow to the base of
his skull. It felt as it the top of his
head was about to blow open. He was
ready to admit that he would be useless in the lab today. Perhaps some fresh air would help.
“Gentlemen, I’m going to take a walk down to
the boat. I’ll catch up with you
later.” Effectively dismissing the
officers he quickly crossed the room and exited without waiting for them to
stand. Leaving two very puzzled men
behind him.
****
“What gives, Lee?” Morton asked, beginning to stack his folders
tidily together and putting them into his briefcase.
Crane was still staring out the door after
Nelson. “I’m not sure, Chip. But there’s something very wrong with the
admiral. His behaviour is most unlike
him and he doesn’t look at all well.”
“He hasn’t looked good for days now, Lee.” Angie entered the inner office, having
overheard their conversation. “He’s
smoking too much, drinking too much coffee and not getting enough sleep. Plus his moods are pure hell in the past few
weeks!” This last was spoken with
feeling.
“Angie, you, better than anyone, know the
admiral – and his moods!” Crane tried to
tease her out of her very evident worry.
“No, Lee, you’re wrong. He has a temper, sure. Enough to fuel a nuclear pile, on a good
day! But this isn’t the same. This is no temper tantrum. It’s…it’s…I don’t know! It’s like he can’t concentrate on anything
for too long. Did you notice the way he
keeps rubbing his head? And he’s gone
through a whole bottle of Excedrin.” She
reached into a drawer of Nelson’s desk and pulled out the almost empty
pack. “See? This was full two days ago! And I’m sure he has more at the house.”
Crane and Morton exchanged concerned
glances. Maybe now was the time to
contact Jamieson? Came the silent
communication. Lee nodded. Angie looked, confused, from one to the
other.
“You’re doing it again!” She cried in exasperation. She hated it when those looks passed
between the two senior officers. She
could never tell what they were thinking.
God, they must be hell on the bridge of the boat!
“Don’t worry, Angie. I’ll give Doc a call and have him drop by to
see the admiral.” Lee promised, flashing
her that famous Crane grin – that had absolutely no effect on the small
brunette.
She snorted derisively. “As if that’ll do any good! He’ll just ignore Jamie and continue doing
what he’s doing. It’s more than just the
headaches and the moodiness, guys. I
think the admiral is really worried. I
don’t think Project Discovery is going as well as it should.”
Lee was instantly alert. If anyone were privy to that information it
would be Angie. And if Project Discovery
was behind target then it had serious implications for Seaview’s next
voyage. Again wordless communication
passed between captain and exec, both determining the impact of Angie’s news
and knowing they would have to handle this very carefully with the highly
volatile admiral.
“I’ll talk to him, Angie.” Crane reassured her,
rising to his feet. “The readiness of
Discovery is vital to our next cruise.
And I’ll have Doc take a look at him. Despite what he says he’s far from
fine!”
Angie escorted the two men from the inner
office and prepared to secure it – Nelson’s office never remained unlocked when
he was absent. As protocol demanded,
Morton stood aside to let his captain pass, appeared to stagger and dropped his
briefcase, clutching at the doorframe for support.
“Whoa, buddy, what’s up?” Crane wheeled, gripping the suddenly
ashen-faced exec’s arm as Angie hurried towards them, concern in her expressive
green eyes.
“Chip, what’s the matter?” She quickly detoured, pouring him a glass of
water, alarmed at the sweat that now beaded his forehead.
Regaining his equilibrium Morton straightened,
gulping down the water gratefully.
“Just…a little…dizzy…for a moment….”
“Sure you don’t need Jamie to take a look at
you, pal?” Lee asked, worry apparent in
his amber gaze.
“I’m fine, now.
Fine!” Chip repeated, almost as
if trying to convince himself. He shook
his head slowly, clearing his momentarily clouded vision. “Whew, don’t know what brought that on!”
“Probably caught cold at the game last night.”
Crane wasn’t above teasing his long time friend, even in his weakened
condition! “Guess Anna wasn’t sitting
close enough to share her body heat!” He
covertly watched Angie’s reaction. She
immediately retreated behind her desk and busied herself with her papers, eyes
lowered. Oh, yeah!
Chip snorted, not rising to the bait, crossed
to Angie’s desk and set down the now empty glass. “Thanks for the water, Ang.” He bestowed one of his rare incandescent
smiles on the extremely attractive secretary.
And Crane watched, hiding his amusement, as a pretty blush invaded her
cheeks. Bingo! Morton was a goner
– he just didn’t know it yet!
Lee bent and retrieved Chip’s briefcase as they
exited the office with a final wave to Angie.
Incapable of the poker face so easily assumed by the exec, he was unable
to hide the slight smirk on his face, which Morton immediately picked up on.
“What?”
Crane just shook his head, his smile widening, unholy glee lighting up
his golden eyes. “What?” Morton repeated, perplexed, as they travelled
the long corridor to their adjacent offices.
Crane didn’t respond verbally, just shoved the briefcase at his friend’s
middle, causing an “oomph” at the unexpected gesture.
Chip slowed outside the men’s room, indicating
to the other that he was going to use the facilities and would join him in a
moment. Lee nodded, continuing in the
direction of his office. He hadn’t gone ten paces when he heard a muffled thud
and a sixth sense, that had stood him in good stead many a time, had him
dropping his own briefcase and cover and sprinting for the men’s room.
Hurriedly pushing open the door he found his
friend collapsed on the ground, pale and sweating profusely, barely conscious,
groaning in pain and clutching his mid section, desperately trying to curl into
a ball. “Hang on, Chip. I’ll get help!” Lee briefly checked his friend’s pulse, which
was weak and thready, pulled open the bathroom door, prepared to bolt for the
nearest phone. Catching sight of Angie
in the corridor he quickly shouted for her to call for Jamie in a hurry and
returned to give his friend what aid he could.
He loosened Chip’s tie and wet some tissues,
wiping the beads of sweat from the other’s forehead, urging him to hang
on. Chip’s face was once again ashen,
his breath coming in great gasps as if his lungs couldn’t get enough air, and
his lips were tinged with a faint bluish colour. Lee was seriously worried; this had come upon
his friend so suddenly. One minute they
were joshing in the corridor and the next Chip was fighting for every breath on
the floor of the men’s room.
Crane was unsurprised when the door was pushed
open and Angie appeared, her normally pink cheeks pale and fear in her clear
green eyes as she knelt on the other side of the stricken man. “What happened, Lee? Same as in the office? He just got dizzy?”
”Don’t know, Angie.” Lee couldn’t bear
the groans of agony being emitted by his friend. Chip was curled into a foetal ball and all
attempts to pull him into a more comfortable position were strenuously
resisted. Suddenly the resistance was no
more and Crane snapped into action, realising that his friend had ceased to
breathe. He pushed Morton onto his back
and angled his head, beginning CPR, compressing for five then pushing air into
the other’s mouth, then compressing again.
Angie’s eyes were wide as she witnessed Crane’s frantic fight to keep
his friend alive. Then she was being
pushed aside by gentle hands as Jamieson took her place, rapping out questions,
barely waiting for responses. He
administered a shot directly into the deeply unconscious man’s chest, ripping
open Chip’s khaki shirt without finesse.
He urged Crane to keep up the CPR as he took Morton’s vitals. Satisfied with the readings he directed Lee
to stop. Putting his stethoscope again
to Chip’s chest he listened intently then, exhaling a huge breath, he dropped
back onto his haunches.
“Anybody care to tell me what brought this on?” His gaze swept the two people in the room and
the faces now crowding the open doorway.
Angie, tears pooling in her eyes, just shook her head. Lee, now that his friend was once again
stable and breathing, inhaled deeply and filled Jamieson in on recent
events. Jamie called for corpsmen and
had Chip swiftly removed to the Med-Bay.
Helping Angie to her feet, he realised the girl was in shock. “Lee, take Angie for some tea then come find
me.” Anticipating the protest he held up
his hand, silently indicating the trembling girl in his arms. “Take her, Lee. Tea etc. I may have some
answers for you by then."
Crane nodded as Doc transferred Angie to him
and sped after the retreating gurney.
Following the medic from the men’s room, he crisply directed the voyeurs
to return to their offices, collected his own and Chip’s briefcases, dropping
them off in his office before making for the cafeteria.
****
Tea didn’t seem to have done Angie any
good. Knowing Jamieson as he did, being
probably his most frequent patient, Lee knew he would concentrate on his
patient first and foremost and get to the relatives and friends all in good
time. A trait Lee admired in his CMO –
mostly – except when he was the relative and friend left waiting! Then it was pure hell!
Finally unable to wait any longer, they crossed
the courtyard to the high tech medical facility behind the administration
block.
Jamie was just coming out of a treatment room,
his tall slightly balding frame hunched over a chart as he scribbled. He looked up as his CO and the admiral’s P.A.
all but accosted him. He held up the
clipboard in defence. “Hang on! He’s holding his own. His heart rate, blood pressure and
temperature are all relatively stable for now but, given he had two separate
attacks and as severe as the second episode was, I’m not taking any
chances. I’m waiting for the results of
blood tests and an MRI scan to confirm what I believe to be the cause. But as he appeared perfectly fine a couple of
hours ago, had a rapid downslide and with the symptoms you describe, I’m
working on the theory that he’s either ingested poison or had a severe allergic
reaction to something. What can you tell
me about Chip’s movements in the last 12-18 hours?”
Both Lee and Angie were stunned. Jamieson slapped the clipboard against his
thigh, startling the two. “I need to
know where he’s been, what he’s eaten and drank in the past 12-18 hours, and I
need to know it fast! Lee, what did he
do last evening?”
Crane filled the doctor in as best he could. There was nothing untoward that Chip had done
- maybe, knowing the Morton appetite, he’d eaten a hotdog or burger at the
game. His girlfriend of the evening had
been sufficiently p.o.’d, that she’d scooted before he could take her to
dinner. Aside from that, Lee knew Chip
hadn’t eaten breakfast as he’d picked Chip up at his beachfront condo on the
Institute grounds in preparation for their early morning meeting.
Seeds beginning to ferment, Lee was distracted
by the noisy arrival of Admiral Nelson. Out
of breath, pale and sweating but demanding answers regarding his senior staff
member, Nelson looked anything but a well man.
Lee’s brain cranked into top gear, putting one and two together and
making fifty!
“Doc!” Crane cadence was just short of a bellow. Jamieson’s verbal report skittered to a stop
as he watched Crane visually examine the dishevelled admiral, sweat dampening
his habitually neat russet hair and beading his brow, the handsome but craggy
features unusually careworn and a weariness in his eyes that bespoke little
sleep. Lee felt a shiver of apprehension
overcome him, looking into those desperately pained eyes. “Jamie, test him, now, for whatever you’re
testing Chip for!” It was notional but
Crane’s intuition sensed a connection here, tenuous at best, but a possible
link.
Jamieson blinked at the Skipper’s vehemence,
ready to protest Crane’s seemingly hair-brained idea then, taking another sharp
look at Nelson, he didn’t hesitate to obey his CO’s order. Grabbing hold of the stocky older man, and
signalling to a corpsman to help, he eased the protesting admiral onto a gurney
alongside the unconscious Morton.
Quickly stripping off Nelson’s shirt, he applied his stethoscope;
recording vitals as he drew blood, sent it to the lab and set up a saline
I.V.
Lee stood out of the way, bracing himself
against the wall. He didn’t want to
leave, but he was reluctant to have Angie witnessing his friends’
indignities. Nelson was grumbling
testily as Jamie re-examined his heart and lungs, checked his eyes, ears,
throat and impatiently awaited the results of the lab work.
Finally sensing their presence, Jamieson shooed
them out of the treatment room to wait in the adjacent waiting area. Crane, knowing the myriad enemies Nelson had,
mentally reviewed several possibilities but couldn’t readily come up with
anyone who would want Project Discovery stopped. Knowing this was the admiral’s current pet
project, his gut instinct told Lee that these attacks were somehow connected to
Discovery. But why would Chip be a
target?
Hours passed.
Someone, probably Crane’s secretary, Susie, brought sandwiches, cold
drinks and coffee. They remained
untouched. Lee paced continually until
Angie wanted to scream at him. She
perched on the wide window ledge overlooking the ocean, which consumed so much
of the time and attention of the men she cared for. Seaview couldn’t be seen from this
part of the Institute grounds and Angie had always thought that a mistake. So many of the personnel sequestered here in
Med Bay were part of the make up of the giant submarine, it stood to reason she
should be part and parcel of their recovery, therefore she should be seen from
every window of the recuperation rooms.
But then again the Institute hadn’t been designed by a woman!
Crane thought frantically as he paced, then
calmed and tried to order his thoughts.
He wouldn’t serve his friends well to continue as he was. He forced himself to sift chronologically
through the morning’s events. And a
persistent nagging suspicion planted itself in his mind. He shook off the idea but it recurred
insistently and reluctantly he allowed it to work its course as he speculated
on the possibility of the inconceivable.
****
“Doc, how are they?” It was Crane who voiced the thoughts for all
of them as Jamie stepped into the waiting room, unsurprised to find not only
Lee and Angie, but CPO Sharkey and Seamen Kowalski and Patterson anxiously
awaiting news, scuttlebutt being as efficient on shore as aboard the boat.
Will Jamieson had been CMO with Seaview
for more than 4 years; a short while after Crane had taken command. He admired the young CO, enjoyed working with
him, knowing Crane gave 110% of himself in every situation, frequently to his
own detriment. He was perhaps Jamieson’s
most frequent and worst patient, constantly challenging the limits of his body
and the speed at which mortal medicine could hope to heal recalcitrant
flesh. Jamie was also conscious of the
loyalty accorded the young skipper and the boat’s senior officers by the entire
crew.
He ran a weary hand over his thinning brown
hair, leaning his aching body against the wall for support. It had been a very long and exacting day and
it wasn’t over yet. “They’re both
holding their own right now, Skipper.
We’ve pumped Chip’s stomach as he had a more immediate exposure to the
drug and he’s on an I.V. drip to replenish fluids….”
”Pumped his stomach?” Crane questioned.
“Chip
ingested a toxic poison within the past several hours. Judging from your conversations with him
today, Lee, he’s unlikely to have eaten anything that hundreds of others
couldn’t have eaten. Therefore it seems
likely it was something he came in contact with here at the Institute today. Again, and this is a distinct possibility, he
could have taken something or been given something that we’re not aware of.
But we all know the exec, he doesn’t do
drugs, alcohol, amphetamines or anything else – hell, the man is allergic to so
many prescription drugs I’ve got difficulty finding medication to treat
him!
In the admiral’s case, his bloods show that
he’s been exposed to this same ‘poison’, over an extended period, possibly
several weeks. There’s been a gradual
build up in his system, causing severe headaches which have become almost
constant lately. Instead of coming to
me, he compounded the problem by taking increasingly frequent doses of over the
counter analgesics!” Jamie huffed a
frustrated breath, glancing knowingly at his captain who had the grace to blush
– having done it himself on at least one occasion Jamieson was aware of - and
he never let Lee forget it! “These
self-medicated painkillers, instead of alleviating the headaches, worked in
tandem with the poison to cause loss of concentration, forgetfulness, nausea
and insomnia. He’s been driving around
for days like this and is lucky he hasn’t caused an accident, killing himself
or someone else!
Cmdr. Morton, it seems, experienced a highly
allergic reaction to the toxin, having taken in a large amount of the drug in a
relatively short time frame.”
Angie was shaking her head. “But how…?”
“And why?” Crane interjected grimly.
Jamieson shrugged wearily. “Why, Captain? That I can’t tell you. How?
Lee, you said Chip didn’t have breakfast this morning?”
“That’s right.
He moaned all the way to the admiral’s office because I wouldn’t give
him time to get something. Jeez, Jamie,
you know the way he eats! I was teasing
him, telling him I needed to go over some stuff before the meeting. But we were early and I was going to let him
get something in the Cafeteria. Then the
admiral heard us and we began the meeting early and he didn’t have a chance to
eat.” Crane was now feeling incredibly
guilty, knowing that if Chip had eaten it might have negated some of the
effects of the poison.
Jamie nodded, following Lee’s unspoken train of
thought. “Yes, Lee, if he’d eaten it
might have helped but it could also have had the opposite effect. So don’t go beating yourself up over
this.” Knowing his captain’s heightened
sense of responsibility, he realised Crane would be feeling intense guilt and
determined that Lee shouldn’t shoulder the blame for Chip’s condition.
Angie’s brow furrowed. She was tired and obviously she was missing
something here. “But Chip didn’t eat
anything. He just had…..” Her voice tailed off as the implications hit
home. “Coffee? The coffee caused this? Chip?
And the admiral??” Her pitch rose
to almost a cry. “That’s not
possible. I make the coffee – always.” Her stricken green gaze begged Jamie to tell
her differently.
He wished he could. Knowing how devastated she would feel, he
tried to let her down as gently as possible.
“We’re testing what remained in the pot, Angie. And the grounds from the pack you were
using. I’ll have the results
shortly. They should tell us if the
coffee was responsible for what’s happened to Chip and the admiral.”
A tap on the door interrupted and Jamie took
the note handed to him by a lab technician.
He scanned it quickly and sighed.
“Well, that confirms it, I’m afraid.
Both the liquid and the grounds tested positive. They were laced with a significant dose of
common or garden rat poison.”
Angie swayed and Lee made a grab for her,
carrying her to a chair. Depositing her
unresisting frame, he called for one of the crewmen to bring her some water.
Jamie shouldered him out of the way and knelt, coaxing Angie to bend forward
and put her head between her knees.
Within a minute she had valiantly rallied, sipped some water and looked
from the concerned faces of one man to the others before bursting into
tears. Dropping the water glass to the
floor, unmindful of the spreading stain on the carpet, she wrapped her arms
around her knees and sobbed bitterly.
Jamieson patted her back solicitously, Crane hovered and the others
desperately wished they were elsewhere, looking anywhere except in her
direction, but her sobs tore at their soft hearts. They hated to see pretty little Angie so
upset.
“Oh God, it’s all my fault!” She was barely coherent but Jamie and Lee,
closest to her, heard the softly voiced words and exchanged hesitant
glances. “I poisoned them! Chip!
The admiral! They could have
died. I could have killed them both!”
Overcome by her tears and self-blame, she
failed to see the shocked looks exchanged between the Seaview crew. It was Crane who voiced the horror they were
all thinking.
“Angie, did you put something in the
coffee?” His voice was soft and
disbelief coloured his tone, knowing how the young secretary felt about Nelson
and Chip particularly and, in a broader sense, all of Seaview’s crew.
She slowly raised tear drenched, shocked eyes to his then swept the seemingly, to her, suspicious faces of the crewmen, finally settling on Jamie’s encouraging, non-accusing gaze. In her emotional state and to her heightened senses, it seemed as if he was inviting her confession. She shrank back in the chair appalled that these men she had known, and developed real friendships with over the years, could think that of her.
“NO!”
“Honey, I know you wouldn’t have done it
willingly. Did someone threaten
you? Your family?” Lee forced his tone to remain
conciliatory. Much as he wanted to shake
the information out of her, he was too much of a gentleman to do so. Chip often kidded him about his courtly
manners. Now he was shocked to the
core. He, Chip and not least Nelson had
come to depend on Angie. She was vital
to their team, running the Institute single-handed when they were on the boat. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - believe that she
had willingly betrayed them. And he saw
the same shock in each of the crewmen’s eyes.
Angie was well liked for her sunny, caring nature. He didn’t know what to think and could see
the same uncertainty reflected in the eyes of his crew. Well, almost all his crew, he amended, seeing
the absolute disbelief in Patterson’s blue eyes.
“No! How
could you think that, Lee? How could any
of you think I’d hurt Chip or the admiral?
Or anyone!” The horror in her
broken voice was genuine – or she was a very good actress. Lee wanted to believe the former. But the Institute was designed such that only
a select few people had access to the admiral.
His office was like Fort Knox, with sophisticated locking devices to
which only he, Chip, Angie and Nelson himself had the codes. Lee knew he hadn’t tampered with the coffee;
it was unlikely either Chip or Nelson had – given their current states,
therefore by a process of elimination, that left Angie. And she was the one who made the coffee. She had access and opportunity, but
motive? He had yet to work that one
out. He had no doubt she hadn’t gone
along willingly, that supreme pressure must have been exerted by Nelson’s
enemies. And she had been missing for
several days some weeks ago. Both he and
Chip had kidded her about her sudden absence from the office but she’d given
them a rather vague response. He hadn’t
thought anything of it at the time but now?
Was it possible that she’d been compromised perhaps even brainwashed? Still he couldn’t overcome that bitter sting
of betrayal.
He didn’t need to say anything further. She knew by the wounded look in the
golden-amber gaze that he didn’t believe her.
Her green eyes widened in shock - and a betrayal of her own was
born. She had never envisaged a day when
Lee Crane - a man she admired above all others for his courage, bravery and
loyalty - would become her accuser, her Judge and Jury, would condemn her
without proper trial. On the basis of
overwhelming evidence maybe – but surely her years of loyalty to Nelson and the
Institute counted for something? They’d
shared many traumatic experiences, classified beyond even her own high
clearance, shared vigil over Nelson when he’d been injured, helped him grieve
over the death of his only sister and stood by him when the world had thought
him a traitor. Surely that counted for
something? But searching his golden
eyes, she didn’t recognise the plea for re-assurance. All she saw was condemnation - and the
effects of the long day caught up with her, her resistance diminishing.
Eyes pooling with tears, she managed to whisper
“Believe what you want, Lee, all of you!
You will anyway!”
“Miss Angie…” Sharkey’s sputtered words,
awkward, disbelieving, spurred her to action.
With an audible sob she gained her feet, caught up her purse and made
for the door, somewhat unsteadily.
Wrenching it open she almost staggered out, the hopes and dreams of
seven years snuffed out in a moment of the most intense betrayal. She made it uncontested to the open elevator
and punched the button for the car park level, sinking against the back of the
stainless steel compartment as her life fell apart around her.
To a man
the Seaview crew looked to their captain for guidance. He stood, shaken, unable to comprehend the
level of betrayal he felt. Angie had
played a vital part in the command structure at the Institute. Hell, she’d been there longer than he had and
had helped ease him into the role he’d taken on, particularly when it came to
Institute business. He’d loved her like
a pesky little sister and relished the thought that had come to him just today
– but so many hours ago now – that she and Chip might get together. So his hurt was both on a professional and
personal level. Yet still a niggle of
doubt persisted.
So he snapped instantly into command mode. Angie had to be apprehended – for her own
sake.
“Pat, Ski, go after her. Call gate security. Stop her from leaving the
grounds. Bring her back here. We need to get to the bottom of this!”
Ski sprang to attention, crossing instantly to
the phone but Patterson hesitated.
Knowing the Senior Ratings well, Crane immediately caught Pat’s
reluctance for the task he’d been set and, although Patterson’s training was so
ingrained that he would have unswervingly carried out his captain’s command,
Lee knew he had a supreme difficulty with this particular order.
“What’s up, Pat? Would you prefer I send Chief Sharkey?”
“Oh, no, sir!”
Came the immediate assurance, but the hesitancy Lee could feel still
remained. “But…. are you sure, sir? Miss Angie, sir? It’s just not like her!”
“I know, Pat, I know. And believe me, I’m having problems with this
too! Just... bring her back, eh? We can iron it out. And I don’t think she’s in any condition to
be driving right now.”
“Aye, sir!”
Patterson executed a perfect Navy about turn and followed Ski. Lee sighed, at times like this he felt
ancient! So much older than the men
under his command – many of whom were actually senior to him in years!
“Lee…”
“Skipper…”
Both voices, Jamie’s and Sharkey’s, came almost
simultaneously. Jamieson deferred to the
COB, who voiced what they were both thinking.
“Skipper, are you sure? Really, really sure, sir? That it’s Miss Angie, sir? It just doesn’t seem right, like. She’s such a nice kid. She ain’t got a bad bone in her body,
sir. She adores the admiral. There’s no way she’d do nothin’ to hurt him,
sir. And she is just so sweet on
Commander Morton, it ain’t funny, sir.
You ever see her ‘round him?
Well, she blushes up all pretty, like, you know? Maybe I’m speakin’ out of turn, sir, but I
just don’t see Miss Angie doin’ something like this, you know? She’s a good kid, a real sweetheart, ya
know….” Sharkey hung his head, sighing deeply.
“Lee?”
Jamie added his two-penny worth, prodding the captain into voicing thoughts
he wasn’t ready to share.
“Chief, Jamie, I don’t have all the
answers! I just look at the facts. Chip
was poisoned – and he’s suffered a severe allergic reaction. The coffee he drank in the admiral’s office
caused this! And he could have
died! If you didn’t have my caffeine
intake rationed, Jamie, I’d have drunk the damn coffee too! Both Chip and I noticed this morning that
Admiral Nelson didn’t look well and were all for calling you in. Now we discover that he’s been exposed to
doses of this poison in his coffee for several weeks! We all know that the admiral’s security is
the tightest. NIMR is like Fort Knox
where Nelson is concerned!” Lee paced,
slugging one fist into the other palm as he walked off his tension. “There are only four of us who have
unlimited access to his office. And I
think we can rule out Chip and the admiral!
It could be me and you need to view me as a suspect.” Crane spoke sincerely, giving the others
carte blanche to investigate him. Both
Sharkey and Jamieson shook their heads, cogniscent of the depth of affection
that existed between the admiral, exec and captain.
“That leaves Angie. And I don’t believe it any more than you
do! IF – and I stress IF – she was
responsible, then she was certainly coerced into it involuntarily or was an
unwitting pawn. And she is as much a
victim as Chip and the admiral.”
****
Anxiously awaiting the return of Ski and Pat,
Lee strode to the window. Unable to see
the car park he turned and subjected Jamieson to his best pleading look. “Jamie, can I see them, just for a
minute? Please!”
Jamieson sighed, having expected this. “Lee, neither of them is awake right
now. I’ve given Chip a mild
sedative. He’s not going to be too
comfortable for a day or so. Having your
stomach pumped is tough on the system and he’s going to have a sore throat and
experience some gagging, coupled with nausea and, as severe as his reaction to
the poison was, he’ll have a monumental headache. I’d like to keep him here for another 24
hours or so but I know, come morning, he’s going to want out. But you saw how bad the attack was. He needed CPR, for Christ’s sake! He stopped breathing! So I need you to work with me to let me
monitor him for at least another day.”
Jamie was mercilessly playing his CO! One part of Lee wanted to support his friend
and help him escape Jamie’s clutches – as Chip had done for him in times
past. But he’d been witness to the
severity of Chip’s reaction to the poison, had been forced to breathe air into
his best friend to keep him alive until aid arrived. In Lee’s eyes, Jamie had saved Chip’s life
and thus he owed the Seaview’s CMO an immense debt of gratitude.
Reluctantly the captain agreed, knowing he
would pay for it when Chip was fully recovered.
“And the admiral?” Crane’s tone was tense. He read as much into Jamie’s body language as
into his speech and knew the CMO was dealing with the easier case scenario
first.
Jamie was torn now. He wanted to give it to his CO straight but,
knowing the deep affection between the two men, tried to emphasise the
positives. “Admiral Nelson is doing as
well as can be expected…”
“What the hell does that mean, Jamie? Cut the bull!”
Jamie understood Crane’s concern. “Lee, he’s been ingesting a toxic substance
over an extended period of time. It’s
taken its toll, to be frank. He’s not a
young man. He can’t shrug these things
off the way you and Morton seem to. I’ve
got him stabilised right now. But you
have to understand – it may take days to flush the poison from his system. And
he’s not going to be very comfortable while we’re doing that.
The headaches he’s been experiencing will get
worse for possibly the next twenty four hours before they begin to ease
off. And I can’t sedate him as I could
Chip. Can’t risk adding anything else
into the mix of poison and analgesic that’s already in his bloodstream. I’m gonna tell you straight, Lee. He’s got a very tough few days ahead of him
and I can’t guarantee that his body will be up to it. We’ll need to observe him and keep him calm
for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours.
If his heart can survive that, then I’ll give him a fighting
chance.”
“Jamie!”
Crane ran his right hand through his closely cropped dark hair from back
to front, a characteristic gesture betraying
his shock and agitation. “I…I guess I didn’t realise it was that
serious!”
He saw his own horror mirrored in the
Chief’s expression. “Please, Jamie, just
let me look in on them for a moment. One
minute. I won’t wake Chip and I promise
not to disturb the admiral. I….I just
need to see them for a moment.
Please!”
Jamie’s warm brown eyes saw the pleading in the lighter golden ones. He hated the hard line attitude he was forced
to take in the face of the younger man’s extreme anxiety but the welfare of his
patients came first.
“Lee, I can’t let you see the admiral right
now. Maybe tomorrow if he settles down
and makes some progress during the night.
Believe me, I’m not taking this stance just for the sake of it. Admiral Nelson does not need any outside
factors to distract him right now. You
have to be aware that there is a distinct possibility that he’s not going to
beat this one.”
****
Lee stood on the steps of the Institute Medical
Facility, his hands in his pockets, and contemplated the myriad stars in the
night sky. So many nights he had
observed these same stars from Seaview’s conning tower, often
accompanied by Nelson. He’d relished
those quiet moments with the man, watching the same stars that had been
navigated by Sailors since the first explorations of sea and ocean. Now he wondered if he would have another
chance.
“Sir?”
The quiet voice broke into his painful reverie and he turned to see
Kowalski waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. “Why don’t you let me drive you home,
Skipper. It’s been a long day.” Since shortly after their first mission
together, Ski had designated himself the captain’s man, very much as Sharkey
was Nelson’s and Patterson Morton’s. He
knew the skipper was hurting badly from the events of the day and night.
****
Jamie had finally relented and allowed the
captain to see Chip – extracting the promise that Crane would go home and get
some rest if he did. Lee had slipped
quietly into the dimly lit room and crossed to stand motionless beside the
bed. His friend was still too pale, his
face whiter than the starched linen pillow on which he rested. Chip’s pose seemed unnatural, as he lay flat
on his back instead of his usual curled to the side position. His blond hair, usually immaculately groomed,
was mussed and sweat dampened.
Thankfully he wasn’t on a ventilator although an I.V. dripped fluid into
his left arm. Crane shuddered slightly,
recalling his terror when he’d been forced to carry out CPR. Thank God for his training, his actions so
ingrained that he hadn’t had to think, he’d just performed. His thoughts so far away, it took him a
moment to realise that cerulean eyes were open and watching the parade of
emotion across his darkly handsome features.
“Hi.”
His throat was sore, the voice that came out barely a croak.
“Hi, yourself!”
Lee fed him some ice chips from a glass on the bedside table. Chip enjoyed the coolness as it moistened his
parched lips, dry mouth and aching throat.
“What hit me?”
It felt like he’d been flattened by a twenty-ton truck, which had then
reversed back over him for good measure.
He was weak as the proverbial kitten – weaker if truth were told. He could barely raise his aching head off the
pillow and that petrified him. He
knew Crane could read him like a book – as few others in his circle of friends,
colleagues and acquaintances could. Lee
put a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder, seeing the unaccustomed emotion
in Chip’s usually inscrutable eyes.
Friends for more than half their lives, Lee was one of few privileged to
be allowed see past the mask Morton habitually wore.
“Take it easy, Chip! You’re going to be
fine.” Lee tried to push re-assurance
into his tone rather than the terror he’d been feeling, remembering.
“What happened?” Chip watched a black cloud descend over
Crane’s expressive features and alarm bells began to ring.
“I’m not sure we should be talking about this
right now. Jamie will kill me if he
knows I woke you. He only let me see you
on the strict understanding that I didn’t disturb you.” Crane tried for a smile to lighten the mood
but what passed for a smile didn’t reach his eyes and didn’t fool his exec – in
fact had the very opposite effect.
“Am I dying?”
Lee’s eyes opened wide at the flatly voiced
question. “No, Chip! God, no!
You gave us all a monumental fright but Doc says you’ll be fine in a day
or so. You’re gonna be sore, I
guess. You stopped breathing and Jamie
had to give you a shot of Adrenaline straight into your heart muscle, then they
had to pump your stomach and ….”
“Captain!”
Jamie had perfected the soft voiced roar but it had the effect of a
bellow! Prone and standing, both
officers jumped guiltily. “You promised
you wouldn’t wake him!”
“I didn’t!”
“He didn’t!” The protests came
simultaneously as Jamie crossed to check the I.V. and his patient’s
vitals.
“Doc, I wasn’t sleeping and I was going nuts
trying to figure out what happened to me.”
Chip confessed, swallowing convulsively as his mouth dried up again. Lee fed him some more ice chips, which he
gulped greedily.
“Chip, you need to rest. Your body has been through a severe trauma
and it needs time to heal. You don’t
need to hear this right now.” Jamieson
argued.
“Actually, Doc, I do.” Morton’s tone was surprisingly firm, the
level not quite as he would want it, were he on Seaview, but sufficient
to convince the medic that he wouldn’t settle for less than the truth.
Lee glanced at Jamieson then resumed the
telling of the day’s events at the medic’s nod.
Crane filled Chip in, watching his friend’s expressions change as the
story unfolded. He could see the horror
in his exec’s eyes as Chip learnt of Nelson’s predicament, then the disbelief,
followed by total denial, when he spoke of Angie’s possible involvement.
“No way, Lee!
NO! Not Angie! There’s got to be another explanation. I don’t buy that! No way, no how!” Morton was resolute in his belief in Nelson’s
secretary’s innocence, much as Patterson had been; and struggled to sit up in
his agitation, Jamie firmly pressing him back down. “I’ve probably worked closer with Angie than
you have over the past six years and, I can tell you, that girl worships the
ground Nelson walks on! There is no way
she could have been persuaded, cajoled or intimidated into betraying him. It’s just not in her nature!”
“Chip, calm down.” Jamie was already preparing
a hypodermic; unhappy with the stress level this conversation was provoking in
the exec. He readied it for insertion
into the I.V. tubing.
Morton saw his intent and tried to avoid it,
attempting to rip the shunt from his vein, but Lee, sensing his purpose,
grabbed Chip’s hand and allowed Doc to administer the sedative.
Crane flinched; Chip’s accusing gaze forewarned
of extreme retribution! He watched as
the sedation almost immediately took hold, dragging his friend reluctantly into
the arms of Morpheus, blue veined eyelids fluttering closed on pale cheeks,
then open, as he fought but ultimately couldn’t evade Jamie’s cocktail.
Lee caught the faint hint of a smirk Jamieson
allowed himself and scowled. But before
he could challenge the CMO, a commotion in the central hallway caught both
their attention.
Leaving Chip blissfully oblivious, Jamie strode
purposefully to the door, Crane hot on his heels. Lee was conscious of Jamie’s muttered “Good
Lord!” as he took in a very dishevelled Angie, her brown hair tumbling from its
usual neat twist, a darkening bruise on one cheek, a cut on her forehead oozing
blood and various scrapes and grazes on her hands and arms. She was supported by Patterson and Ski,
crying softly as she tried to extricate herself from their gentle hold.
“What the hell happened?” Crane rapped out sharply. “I told you to bring her back, not…”
”Time enough for explanations.” Jamie
moved quickly, opening the door of an exam room further down the corridor. “Bring her in here.” Kowalski scooped her up in his strong arms
and carried her, setting her down on the examination table as Jamieson
indicated, the others trailing behind.
Jamie pulled a pencil light from the breast
pocket of his white lab coat and shone it briefly into her tear bright
eyes. Noticing his audience, he made
shooing motions. “Go back to the waiting
room and let me see to Angie. I’ll come
find you shortly.”
Lee stepped towards the table and laid his hand
gently on Angie’s shoulder. “We’ll sort
it out, Angie. Don’t worry.” He was startled at the bitterness in the look
she sent him as she shied away from his hand.
“Angie….!”
“Not now, Lee!”
Doc’s tone brooked no argument as he indicated the door with a nod of
his head.
Entering the waiting area Crane found his three
crew members in various dejected poses.
“What exactly happened?”
Ski straightened up, his worried gaze
connecting with his captain’s. “We went
after Miss Angie like you said, sir. We
caught up with her in the car park. She
was just getting into her car and we called out to her. She didn’t answer, just got in and started
the engine. She was accelerating hard,
Skipper, then when she braked for the security barrier it was like she had no
brakes at all. She swerved and smacked
straight into the perimeter wall. She
wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and she hit her head on the windscreen. She was dazed and kinda out of it so we just
brought her straight back here.”
Patterson took over. “She didn’t want to come, sir. When she realised where we were taking her,
she started to cry and begged us to let her go.
Said she just wanted to go home.
Said she hadn’t done anything wrong.”
Pat looked at his skipper, reproach in his blue eyes. “But we couldn’t leave her in that state,
sir. And she hit the wall with some
whack! She needs Doc to check her out.”
“You did the right thing, Pat. Doc’ll take care of her.”
“Sir, Miss Angie’s car is pretty new. Seems to me the brakes shouldn’t just go like
that.” Kowalski looked troubled. “And they were gone. She hit that wall with quite an impact,
sir. The whole front end of her car is
totalled.”
“You think someone tampered with her brakes,
Ski?”
“I’m pretty sure of it, sir. New cars don’t usually have the brakes go
that comprehensively without giving some warning. Miss Angie’d have noticed if the brakes
weren’t working right and would’ve done something about it. She’s fairly savvy about cars, sir, for a
girl.”
The last comment brought a wry smile to the
captain’s troubled face. Angie was
obviously pretty popular with his crew, the way they’d rushed to her defence.
Sharkey chimed in. “Skipper, I’ve had Miss Angie’s car towed to
the motor pool and asked maintenance to take a look at the brakes. We should know pretty soon if it’s been
tampered with.”
“Good move, Chief. The way things have been going around here
today, I’d say it’s a safe bet.” Crane
sighed wearily.
It was back to waiting – and pacing. Sharkey’s cell phone rang just as Jamieson
pushed through the door. The Chief
answered the call as the others turned to the doctor.
“She’ll be OK.
She gave her head a pretty good smack but there’s no concussion. I’ve put some stitches into the cut on her
forehead, she’s got some badly bruised ribs where she hit the steering
wheel. I’ve cleaned up the other grazes
and given her some pain medication.
She’ll be bruised and sore for a couple of days but she’ll heal
fine. I’m going to keep her overnight
for observation – much against her wishes, I might add. If there are no further complications, I’ll
release her in the morning.”
“Can I see her, Doc?” Crane asked.
“Not if you’re going to upset her again!” Jamie’s tone was one of exasperation. “You’re not exactly top of her hit parade
just now!”
“I know, Jamie.
But we really need to get this cleared up as soon as possible.” He stopped as Sharkey concluded his call,
noting the grim expression on the Chief’s face.
“Skipper, the brakes on Miss Angie’s car were
tampered with. All the fluid had been
drained and the airbag was disconnected for good measure. Someone wanted to make sure she was hurt real
bad.” Sharkey smacked his fist into the
palm of his other hand.
“She’s a lucky girl. It’s a good thing she hadn’t already left the
Institute grounds.” Doc commented.
“I’m not sure she’ll see it like that,
Jamie.” Crane exhaled, knowing he had an
apology to make.
He entered the room Angie had been allocated
quietly in case she was sleeping. She
wasn’t. The livid bruising on her cheek
and the neat black stitches on her forehead stood out in stark contrast to her
pale features. Her face was a study in
misery as she bleakly shredded the tissue wadded in her hands. She turned her head his way and her
expression hardened as she spotted him.
“What now?”
“I wanted to apologise, Angie.” Crane sat down on the edge of the bed and
tried to take her hand but she pulled away.
“Why?
Because somebody interfered with my brakes, all of a sudden you believe
me? Maybe I did it myself, to throw
suspicion off me!” She ached all over, her head hurt and her heart was
sore. That he of all people could
suspect that she would harm the admiral or Chip!
“Angie, you’re misunderstanding. I know you’d never normally hurt the admiral
or Chip. But if someone threatened you
or your family….”
“You’ve known me for four years, Lee. Four years!
And you thought me capable of poisoning Admiral Nelson? Slowly!
For week after week, from what Jamie’s said. Making his coffee and knowing that every cup
he drank put m..m..more of the p..poison into his system.” Her voice wobbled as the bitterness of the
betrayal hit home. “You thought I could
do that? Watch him become so ill that I
was terrified for him? You don’t know me
at all!”
Lee felt terrible for harbouring even the
slightest doubts about her. “Angie…”
“Oh, go away, Lee. I don’t ever want to see you again! Don’t you think the admiral and I realise
that what you’re suggesting could happen and have plans in place if anyone were
to threaten me? You have so little
trust!”
Despite his promise to Jamie not to upset her,
Lee knew he could get to the bottom of this right now. “Angie, who gave you the coffee grounds? Who?”
She stilled at his question. Her eyes widened as her face paled even
further, if that were possible. “The
admiral commented on her coffee so I asked which brand she used. She said it was new to the market and only sold
in speciality shops. So I asked her to
get some for me.”
“Who, Angie?
Who?”
Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Susie.”
****
Lee came back to the present and acknowledged
the concern in Kowalski’s voice. “Ski,
you’re just as tired as I am. Go home
and get some rest.”
“Oh no, sir.
I didn’t have the early start you did.
And I’d rest much better if I knew you’d made it home safely, so what do
you say, sir? It’s past two in the
morning. Let me drive you back to your
place.”
Knowing Sharkey would have done the same for
Nelson, or Pat for Chip, made it easier for Lee to accept Ski’s
ministrations. Beyond exhaustion, he
meekly handed over his car keys and allowed himself to be driven back to his
condo by the shore on the Institute grounds.
His elbow resting on the side window supported
the hand he dropped his head into, weary beyond belief. Kowalski ventured a sideways glance, taking
in the abject stance of his skipper.
“Sir, it’s not your fault. None
of this is down to you.”
Crane roused himself sufficiently to
speak. “Ski, I practically accused Angie
of doctoring the coffee. I am directly
responsible for her being in the Med Bay tonight!”
“No, sir!”
The Senior Rating was on a roll!
“The person who tampered with Miss Angie’s brakes and airbag is solely
responsible for her being in the Med Bay, sir!
Not you!”
“Which brings up another point.” The exhausted captain was still alert enough
to add one and one! “Susie had to have
someone else on the inside working with her.
She delivered the coffee, but no way would she have the know how to
disable Angie’s airbag and drain her brake fluid.”
“So we’re looking for someone with that
practical knowledge, eh, Skipper?”
Kowalski’s feral instinct came to the fore. “Shouldn’t be too difficult. You leave that to me, sir.”
They pulled up outside Lee’s beachfront
apartment. “Thanks, Ski.”
“Hey, no problem, Skipper. I’ll keep this baby (referring to Lee’s
prized Shelby Cobra) overnight and pick you up here at 0800, sir.”
“Make it 0700 and you’ve got a deal!” Crane returned wryly.
“0700, sir!
You got it!” And Kowalski
executed a perfect handbrake turn and accelerated out of the parking area with
enough exhaust smoke to cause Lee to wince.
****
“I’m fine, Jamie! No way am I staying here another 24
hours!” Lee could hear the raised voice
of his exec almost halfway down the corridor.
He halted outside the door, gleefully eavesdropping on the row in
progress.
“Chip, I am not going to argue with you. You had a full body trauma less than 24 hours
ago! You are staying here where I can
monitor you for another day! At
least! You are going to eat 3 squares
and if I find that you’ve obeyed orders I may allow you out of here
tomorrow.”
“Jamie, you’re over-compensating!” Lee shook his head at the conciliatory tone
his exec and best friend was using – that was sooo not the way to get
past Doc!
Jamie’s tone became less agreeable. “Commander Morton, you are staying here
today! You have a headache, your chest
hurts, your throat is sore and your stomach is cramping. You haven’t eaten for more than 24 hours. If – and I mean IF – you eat breakfast, lunch
and dinner today, I just might, repeat might, release you to light duty
tomorrow. And don’t try to think outside
the box, Commander! If you envisage for
even one moment that you can sign yourself out of here without my
authority – then think again! I hesitate
to remind you but you need me to sign off on your fitness for duty roster! I can have you shore side so fast your head
will spin, Mister!”
Lee stifled another grin. Chip should know when he was whipped! It
appeared he didn’t! “I’ve already had
what passes for breakfast here. It was
so totally crap! How do you expect me to
recover my strength on the basis of that?
I need some of Cookie’s food.
Doc, please! Confine me to the
boat, anything! But get me out of
here!” Chip all but begged the CMO.
“So your only objection is the food? What if I was to guarantee a decent lunch
followed by your favourite Chinese for dinner – with the captain?”
“You paying, Jamie?” Came Chip’s familiar speculative tone.
“And if I was?”
The CMO retort was swift.
“Well, maybe I’d wager you that the hand you’re
holding was a tad obvious, Doctor! NO DICE!
I feel fine, I want out of here!”
“And I’m telling you that you’re not fine! Not by a long chalk! And you need to be under observation for a
further 24 hours. Like it – or lump it,
Commander!”
Lee decided now was the perfect time to step
in. He needed both these men on his
side. And placating Chip was the first
step.
“Morning, guys.
Guess from what I heard the breakfast wasn’t up to scratch, Chip. OK, Doc, if I persuade Cookie to whip up
something tempting for the exec’s lunch?”
He saw Chip’s eyes light up at sight of him,
anticipating his friend’s help in getting out of here. Doc’s eyes narrowed as Lee stepped between
them, winking at Jamie. Chip caught the
wink and his expression turned mutinous.
There was obviously no help coming from his friend. Chip shot him a traitorous glare. Payback would be sweet! There was a you-know-I-can-make-it-an-order
look in Lee’s eyes that told Chip he was licked.
“Like I have a choice!” He muttered crossly. “But I feel fine, starving, but fine!”
Jamie opened his mouth to protest but Lee cut
him off, knowing another round would tick his friend off even more. “OK, Chip, the starving part we can take care
of. But there is something I need you to
help me with, both of you.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously on his CO,
while Chip sat forward curiously, wincing slightly as pain shot through his
stomach and chest. As unobtrusively as
possible, he leaned back against the mound of pillows behind him, crossing his
arms over his midsection, not wanting Jamie – particularly – to see that he
wasn’t quite as fine as he made out.
But Crane, knowing him better than anyone else, saw the colour almost
bleach from his face, the pale blue hospital issue p.j.s accentuating the
intense blue of his eyes and the flare of pain that crossed them. As simply as raising one eyebrow, he questioned
Chip’s ability to help him. A firm nod
in return was all he needed not to inform Jamieson, and the look that passed
between them said payback!
“What do you need us to do, Lee?” Chip’s voice was still slightly scratchy; a
legacy of the stomach pump, but his tone was eager and filled with anticipation.
Jamieson frowned, unsure the captain should be
co-opting his patient into whatever scheme he was plotting. On the other hand, Crane had certainly
diverted the exec’s thoughts of flight.
He decided to hold off his objections til he heard the Skipper’s plan.
“Firstly, Jamie, how are the admiral and Angie
this morning?” Lee asked.
“Angie?
What happened to Angie?”
“I take it you haven’t filled Chip in on last
night’s events, Doc?” Lee could hear the
anxiety in his XO’s harried tone. Oh,
yeah, he was sunk all right!
“Not yet. The admiral came through the night pretty well, all things considered. He had one rather disturbing episode.” Jamieson revealed reluctantly. “We had to put him in restraints.” He saw the horror on both officers’ faces and unaccountably felt the need to defend his actions. “For his own sake! He became very agitated. His headache had him almost climbing the walls, he attempted to disconnect the I.V. and the heart monitor. I did warn you about this, Skipper.”
Seeing Chip’s abject shock Lee realised that,
as he had been out of it most of the previous day, his friend didn’t have a
clue what was going on. He filled him in
as succinctly as he could, culminating with the night’s events and Angie’s
revelation.
“How is Angie this morning, Doc?”
“She’s still sleeping, Skipper. The longer she sleeps the better she’ll
heal. She’s going to be pretty sore for
the next few days. But she doesn’t have a concussion so I should be able to
release her this morning.”
“Could you find an excuse to keep her here for
– say another 12-18 hours or so?”
Jamie floundered a little. “I guess so.
But why would I want to?”
“For her own safety, Jamie. Plus I need to get Susie over here, without
tipping her off that we’re on to her or appraising anyone else that we know
what’s going on. My gut instinct tells
me that there’s someone else involved here at the Institute.”
”She was thoroughly checked out, Lee. I
saw to her hiring myself!” Chip was
vehement. “You know her background. Her clearance was higher than strictly
necessary for her position. She’d been
working with other government agencies and, God, you know I’d never take any
chances with your safety!”
“Chill, Chip!
Of course I know that. And she’s
obviously been very cleverly compromised.
Perhaps she doesn’t even know she’s being monitored. But there’s no way she’d have the knowledge
or capability to disable Angie’s airbag and drain off her brake fluid. No, someone counted on Angie getting off base
before her brakes failed and wants Susie to remain undetected. They may have something else in mind for
her. You having an allergic reaction to
the poison had thrown a curve ball.
We’re on to them quicker than they had anticipated. And we can use that to our advantage to catch
whoever masterminded this attack on the admiral. That’s where you both come in.”
Lee outlined his plan to his two officers and
had them nodding in complete agreement, although he sensed Chip’s slight
hesitation. “What’s up, Chip?”
“You’re asking a lot of Angie, Lee. She’s not as used to this cloak and dagger
stuff as we are.”
“And that’s where you come in, pal. Angie’s not my number one fan at the
moment. I messed up big time,
practically accused her of being responsible for this whole mess.” Crane began to twist the class ring on his
left hand, a sure sign he was disturbed.
“She can help us get Susie over here without arousing suspicion. And we need to find out who their “mole”
is. They have someone else in place
here, someone who has mechanical knowledge.
I’ve got Sharkey and Ski quietly working that angle.
But I figure Angie can get Susie here on the
pretext of Institute business. We’ll get
a chance to question her without tipping our hand. Doc, we need you to buy us some time. Just put the word out that Chip suffered an
allergic reaction to something. I don’t
want the word poison mentioned! If
anyone asks about the admiral, he’s suffering from exhaustion. He’ll be back on track in a day or so.”
”Can do, Lee. That’s all you need from
me?”
“Not quite, Jamie. If Susie won’t co-operate we may need you to
administer something to persuade her to talk.”
“Captain!”
Jamieson obviously wasn’t comfortable with that.
“Doc, she’s orchestrated the systematic
poisoning of the admiral for the past several weeks. Chip almost died! The admiral could still die!” Crane wasn’t pulling any punches, running his
hand through his hair in an agitated movement.
“I need answers. And I’ll get
them however I can!”
Chip was clearly in agreement on this one. But Jamieson was still reluctant.
“Jamie, I’ll only call on you if it’s strictly
necessary. Chip and I should be able to
handle this between us.”
“Skipper, Chip’s a patient! He’s not up to running round the Med Bay
apprehending criminals!”
“And I won’t ask him to, Doc! Chip’s only role in this is to get Angie’s
co-operation. I can handle the
rest. Unless, of course, your particular
expertise is required!”
Chip looked disappointed to be relegated to
such a minute role but he had a disquieting feeling that events would take a
turn for the worse before they got better.
****
Jamie’s insistence on Chip using a wheelchair
to visit Angie didn’t bode well for the exec’s humour. Demanding a shower he found he wasn’t quite
as steady on his feet as he’d thought.
Frank, a corpsman from Seaview, assisted his XO’s ablutions and,
within thirty minutes, freshly showered, shaved and garbed in clean Med Bay
p.j.s and robe, Chip was resigned, if not happy to admit, to the welcome
assistance of the wheelchair as Lee pushed him towards Angie’s room.
“Lee?”
“Yeah, Chip?”
“Can we swing by the admiral’s room? I’d really like to see how he’s doing.”
“Me too, buddy.
But Jamie’s determined that we don’t upset him. I didn’t realise how seriously this was gonna
hit him. Chip, he might not pull out of
this one.” Crane’s voiced was
choked. “Jeez, for a while there, I
didn’t think you were gonna make it!”
“I don’t remember too much about that. But I guess I owe you my life, Lee,
again! I…”
“Hey, what’s the count now, pal? Are we even keeping score? Did it start afresh when I joined Seaview? Cos I sure hope you’re not holding all those
times you saved my hide in Annapolis against me.” Crane kept his tone light, recognising the
intensity of his friend’s emotions.
“Lee!”
“Chip!
Goes without saying, buddy! I did
what I had to do. Same as you would have
– and have done. If you’ve got a problem
with me administering the kiss of life – well, we can just call it something
else!”
“LEE!” Chip
yelped!
“Course you’ve had more practice than I
have!” He relished the blush washing
over his XO’s Nordic features as he pushed him down the corridor. Sometimes Chip could be so gullible! Lee knew his exec had more than his fair
share of the ladies, but he’d always admired Chip’s ability to remain friends –
or friendly acquaintances – with the women he went out with. Chip often teased Lee about his courtly
nature towards the females he dated. But
Lee reckoned he was nowhere in the running when it came to his exec. Chip’s sincerity shone through, in all his
relationships. He never misled his
girlfriends, preferring to be upfront about his first love – Seaview –
and his frequent abrupt absences – duty.
It had led to some disappointments – as with
Anna, the game being the final straw! – but Lee knew there was a special girl
out there waiting for Chip – as there was for him. And they would have to be special – to
be able to take second place – for much of their time together – to the other
lady in their lives – their grey lady – Seaview.
****
Angie was awake and counting the minutes until
she could get out of Med Bay. She needed
clothes; the ones she’d been wearing the previous evening had mysteriously
disappeared – as had her purse. She knew
her car was in no condition to be driven but she could have called a cab if
she’d at least had her purse! Her head
throbbed and she ached all over. She
felt thoroughly miserable - and she was still terribly worried about Admiral
Nelson. He’d looked so ill. She knew Jamie was very concerned about his
ability to fight this. And she felt sick
inside every time she thought about the number of times she’d brewed pots of
coffee for him – poisoned him! How could
she have not known? Not seen the effects
the coffee – her coffee – had had on him.
Tears pooled and tracked down her pale cheeks. If he died….
She turned her face into the pillow, sobbing harder. And Chip Morton… Oh God, he’d come close to dying
yesterday. She’d almost killed him! But for Lee Crane he’d be dead now. She’d be a murderer!
Logically, Angie knew she was over
dramatising. But her emotions were in
turmoil. She started as the door opened,
scrubbing her cheeks as she turned to see who had entered. She wasn’t expecting the boat’s captain and
exec and seeing Chip, pushed in a wheelchair by Lee, opened the floodgates
again.
Chip rose from the chair to perch on the edge
of Angie’s bed, pulling the sobbing girl into his arms. He was appalled at the livid bruising on her
face as she gratefully curled against his broad chest. Her tears soaked through the robe he wore
over the Med Bay p.j.s as he soothed her, stroking his big hands over her small
back. She was petite and slight in his
arms. The only time he’d ever held her
before had been on the dance floor at the previous year’s Christmas party. Now she felt vulnerable and tiny in the
narrow hospital bed and his protective instincts multiplied one hundred fold.
“Shh, Angie, please!”
“Chip, I almost killed you! How can you even talk to me?” She wailed, burying her face against his
chest, mortified that her tears were saturating him, conscious of her red eyes
and nose and the Med Bay garb that did nothing for her. She failed to see the effect she was having
on the normally inscrutable exec. Her
usual efficient poise had crumbled and her big tear wet green eyes connected
with his steady blue ones tugging at something in Morton’s heart. He wanted to cuddle her, console her, but she
was already withdrawing from him, embarrassment now colouring her too pale
cheeks. She cut a wary glance towards
the captain, pulling out of Morton’s arms, steeling herself for what would come
from Lee.
Crane caught her apprehensive look and winced,
knowing his apology from the previous night hadn’t, as he’d suspected, overcome
the damage done by his initial accusation.
“Angie, I’m sorry!” He injected
as much genuine sincerity as he could into his tone. “Forgive me for doubting you. I should have known better. Put it down to a very stressful few hours –
please! I know you’d never hurt the
admiral or Chip and we need your help to find out who’s trying to get to
Admiral Nelson so badly that they’d risk spiking his coffee with poison,
knowing anyone in his company could drink it.”
“Jamie explained that I had an unusually
allergic reaction, Angie.” Morton
explained, taking hold of her hand and drawing her antagonistic gaze away from
his friend. “Most visitors could maybe
handle a cup or two and not feel anything more than a slightly nauseous sensation. The admiral – and you – were the ones most
likely to be exposed to a prolonged dosage.
And I know you don’t drink coffee.”
Angie shouldn’t have been surprised that Seaview’s exec knew this
tiny detail about her – Morton’s quick brain and observant nature stored vast
quantities of minutiae on very different subjects – but she was. “The admiral wasn’t quite so lucky. And he’s going to have a tough time of it
over the next few days. I won’t lie to
you, Angie, there’s still a possibility that he won’t pull out of this.”
She withdrew her hand from Chip’s as he gently
spoke the words that damned her in her own eyes. She’d been trusted with Nelson’s safety in
his suite of offices and she’d failed.
She couldn’t bring herself to look the two Seaview Officers in
the eye.
“I’m so sorry!
I don’t know why I didn’t see it.
I just… The admiral liked the coffee Susie made. He commented on how great it was when he went
to your office, Lee.” The tears were
leaking again and Morton made shushing motions but she was determined to
continue. “I asked Susie what blend it
was and where she got it. She
volunteered to organise some for me. I
trusted her! She was your secretary,
Lee! She had all the formal
clearances! I didn’t suspect for a
moment that she would give me anything other than regular coffee. Maybe I should have. I know how many enemies the admiral has. I should have taken better care of him! If he dies, it’s all my fault! And the reason I was out of the office that
week you asked about, Lee, was because I went on one of those anti-terrorist
courses for secretaries. To help them
look out for threats against their bosses!
Ironic or what?” And the tears
came again. The two men looked on
helplessly for several moments before Morton gathered her again into his arms,
cradling her against his broad chest, soothing her tattered emotions, while
Crane felt totally superfluous to requirements!
But time was of an essence. They had to identify and neutralise Nelson’s enemies. And, much as he hated to disturb the budding romance he could see transpiring, he needed Angie’s co-operation. And Chip was the conduit.
Nodding faintly in his exec’s direction, Lee
left the next steps up to him.
Manufacturing an excuse, he left Chip and Angie alone, admonishing his
friend not to attempt to leave without wheelchair assistance. Grudgingly acknowledging Crane’s concern,
Morton welcomed the chance to be alone with Angie and nodded perfunctorily as
his captain exited.
Relishing the feel of her in his arms he still
needed to extract the requisite information.
“Angie! You know Lee is only trying to get to the bottom of this, don’t
you?” He spoke softly, taking in the
citrus perfume of her hair as he held her.
“Perhaps he came across a little strong, but he’s very worried about the
admiral.”
“And you!
God, Chip, I was there! He was
terrified for you! He saved your life!
If he hadn’t been there…. Oh, Christ,
Chip!” She was shaking badly and he held
her tightly.
“It’s OK, Ang.
I’m fine! But Lee’s right. We need to know who’s behind this attack on
the admiral. Susie’s just a pawn. There’s another mole in NIMR – whoever
interfered with your car last night – and he’s higher up in the food chain than
Susie, least that’s how Lee and I see it.
We need to get to him – fast! The
reaction I had to the coffee was something they couldn’t predict and allows us
to act sooner than they anticipated. Lee
thinks – and it makes sense – that it’s got something to do with Project
Discovery. So we need to know everything
that Susie knows. Without anyone
guessing that we’re on to her. That’s
where you come in. Can you get her over
here? Manufacture a reason to have her
come to you here. Any plausible excuse
that won’t arouse suspicion. Ang, these
people have proven themselves to be lethal.
They’re prepared to kill anyone who gets in their way! So we’re not asking you to undertake this
lightly. You could have been killed last
night! If you’d been on the highway
when your brakes failed….” His arms
tightened around her in a reflexive action, loosening his hold when she gasped
with pain from her bruised ribs.
Her green eyes widened. It was the first – and only – indication he’d
given her that he cared. “Chip!” She touched her hand to his cheek and he
turned his lips into her palm. Her heart
began to race. Oh, this was so
not the time or the place! Holding the
thought she brought her emotions under control.
“Of course I’ll do anything that I can.
Anything you want me to.”
He noticed she avoided any mention of Lee and filed it for dealing with
later.
“Thanks, Angie.
It’s your call. Get her over here
any way you think fit. Jamie was going
to release you this morning but he’s agreed to hang on until you can get Susie
here. However long that takes!”
“Well, I don’t have any clothes or purse. My car’s totalled and my house keys were in
my purse.” Reality checked in as she
realised her plight! Chip soothed her
concerns. He’d organise his own
secretary to go to Angie’s house to get her something to wear. Chief Sharkey would be purloined to find her
purse and keys – probably still in her car.
Reassured that her immediate concerns were taken care of, Angie agreed –
as Chip knew she would - for Nelson.
****
Much as it went against the grain, Morton was
returned to his room for rest and observation, Crane was sidelined to the
visitors’ area and Angie was resigned to waiting for her call to Susie’s voice
mail to be answered when the secretary reported for duty. Jamie wielded his power over the command
staff with an admirable display of reticence!
Interspersed by the odd smirk! However his very real worry for the
admiral tempered his reactions to his two superior officers.
Lee Crane was determined to get to the bottom
of the plot against Nelson. In the four
and a bit years he’d been privileged to captain Seaview, his
relationship with Nelson had grown, changed dramatically, and solidified into
something he’d neither envisaged nor asked for, but had certainly welcomed, if
with some trepidation. Lee had embraced
the change but been somewhat wary of it, initially looking for a hidden
agenda.
But with the solidifying presence of Chip, and
his own gut instinct – which he relied upon 100% - he’d begun to see Nelson as
the father he’d never known; as Chip was the brother he’d adopted years
earlier; or truth be told – he’d been adopted into the Morton clan by the
classman who knew what family meant. Lee
had been welcomed by the Mortons from his first visit and, to this day,
received the same care packages Chip got from his Mom, convinced as she was
that Cookie couldn’t feed them adequately.
Both men winced and tried to hide the post that was (unfortunately)
delivered to the boat. Scuttlebutt being
what it was, word usually spread efficiently to the Galley that the captain and
exec were unlikely to be hungry. A
seriously peeved Cookie was not a pretty sight and the crew suffered – as they
knew what was good for them – in silence!
****
Angie was warmed and relieved by Chip’s
unwavering belief in her innocence. She
still harboured resentment against Lee for his initial suspicion and doubted if
she’d be able to work with him again. As
he was such an integral part of life at the Institute she knew that meant she’d
be looking for another job. And her heart
broke at the thought of leaving the admiral, Chip and the friends she’d made
amongst the Institute staff and the crew of Seaview. The thought of not seeing Chip on a regular
basis tore at her heart. She’d come to
care for the quiet, thoughtful exec more than she’d been prepared to admit over
the past several years and now, just as it looked like he was exhibiting some
reciprocal interest, she had to leave.
She’d seen the distrust – not just in Crane’s
eyes – but in Jamie’s, Sharkey’s and Ski’s.
And, knowing how things were on board the boat and at the Institute, she
speculated that there would come another time when threats would be made again
– and she couldn’t bear the thought of being suspect in the captain’s or crew’s
eyes. No, it was better she left
now. She cringed when she recalled the
wounded look in Lee’s golden eyes as he’d contemplated her supposed betrayal;
shuddered at the pain she’d seen reflected there on behalf of Nelson and Chip.
The ache in her head coupled with the soreness
in her whole body every time she moved, along with the desolation of leaving a
job she loved and people she cared for, contributed to the tears that flowed
again and she held a wad of tissues to her mouth to stifle the sobs.
This was the picture Susie saw when she entered
the Med Bay room, a stack of files she thought Angie might need in her
arms. The sight of her colleague,
bruised, stitched and crying bitterly caused the pretty blue-eyed blonde to
drop the folders on the end of the bed and rush to Angie’s side.
“Oh my God, Angie! I had no idea. I just heard you’d been in a car
accident. Are you OK?” Susie patted ineffectually at the other
girl’s arm. Angie’s tears flowed harder,
fuelled by the deception of a trusted colleague. She’d only known Lee Crane’s secretary for
the six months she’d worked at NIMR but her clearance had been high and she’d
been trusted by her workmates. A further
betrayal.
“Did you bring the files I requested?” Angie ground the words out through clenched
teeth, unable to feign politeness.
Susie’s startled look told her she’d gone over the top and she backed
off perceptibly. “Sorry, Susie, I’m just
not feeling quite myself right now.
Everything seems to hurt.”
“Oh, gee, Angie, I understand. My God, I didn’t realise!” Lee’s secretary was visibly disturbed. “If I can do anything for you, cover for you
with the admiral… Whatever you need…”
“That’s OK, Susie. Admiral Nelson is suffering from
exhaustion. He’s in the Med Bay just now
too. So there shouldn’t be too much that
either Captain Crane or Commander Morton can’t cover.”
“But I heard Mr. Morton had been taken ill,
too!”
“Oh, he had an allergic reaction to something,
Susie. Probably got it at the Bears game
he attended the other night.” Angie
dropped in casually, waiting for Lee Crane to make an appearance.
She was surprised, as was her companion, when
the door opened to admit not only Captain Crane but also Commander Morton and
Doctor Jamieson. Angie’s gaze
immediately went to Chip, wheelchair bound and still paler than usual.
“Hi, Lee, Chip – hope you’re feeling
better. Doctor Jamieson, Angie asked me
to bring her some paperwork. I hope
that’s OK?” Susie looked from one to the
other of the grim faces.
“Why, Susie?”
Lee Crane had been an exemplary boss.
She couldn’t have asked for a more considerate, polite superior. Chip Morton had always treated her well and
even the gruff Admiral Nelson, on the occasions she’d had dealings with him,
had been nice if distant.
“What do you mean, Lee?” He knew.
They all knew. She was determined
not to cry but couldn’t prevent the tears that seeped.
“You could have killed Chip. May have killed the admiral. What did they offer you? What payment did you receive to risk two
deaths, maybe more! To merit killing one
of the best scientific brains in the world, Susie?” Lee bit out the questions, needing
answers. Chip’s hand on his arm calmed
him enough to allow her time to respond.
She was sobbing, head in her hands, almost
relieved to be finally discovered, to pass the problem to more experienced
hands. “All he wanted was for me to
deliver a package; to give the coffee to Angie.
He swore no one would be hurt. He
threatened to kill my younger brother.
To have a car hit him on his way to school. He’s only thirteen! I couldn’t take a chance with his life.”
“But you could with Admiral Nelson’s and Chip
Morton’s.” Angie’s voice was cold as the
grave. She raised one hand, tacitly
asking Lee and Chip to allow her to continue.
“I didn’t know…didn’t realise…” Susie sobbed,
hands frantically scrubbing tears from her cheeks.
“Don’t talk rot!” Angie spat, startling the officers along with
the secretary. “You gave me coffee
grounds laced with rat poison! You bloody
well knew! And you stood by and watched
the admiral get weaker and sicker! And
if Mr. Morton hadn’t had an allergic reaction, you’d have continued to give me
the coffee! Until when? Til the admiral was dead?” Angie’s eyes sparkled with tears now but she
blinked them back. Her voice strengthened. “It’s not the first time, is it, Susie?” Three pair of eyes snapped to hers as Susie’s
cowed but still belligerent demeanour caused her intuition to kick in. “You’ve done this before!”
“No!
Yes! I have to! But not like this. You don’t get it! Nicky’s only thirteen. My parents waited years to have him. I have to protect him.”
Jamieson was the first to understand what drove
the young girl to acts that could be counted as treason. And he could empathise
with her loyalty to her family. “Susie, they’ve got a stranglehold on you. You have to break that. You know they’ll own you until you have the
strength to break away.”
“I can’t, Dr. Jamieson. You don’t understand! If I don’t do what they want me to, they’ll
kill Nicky. If they wanted to kill me, I could handle that. But if anything happens to him, it’ll kill my
parents. I had to do what they asked of
me. I wouldn’t do this for money!” Her voice shook with desperation.
“Susie, what else have you done for these
people? They’ve got you over a
barrel. You know they can take you
out. Any time they like. And you might not be as lucky as I was.” Angie retorted grimly.
“No!”
Susie protested, her eyes widening at the implications of Angie’s
statement. “They had nothing to do with
your accident! They didn’t. They promised me no one would get hurt.”
“Well, they lied!” Angie snapped, frustrated, sore and mad as
hell. The three officers struggled to
hide matching grins, despite the seriousness of the situation. Angie was just getting started. She ripped into the younger girl, quoting
what had been done to her car, listing off her various aches and hurts and
finally getting Susie’s confession.
She’d been controlled by the man she’d known
only as “The Puppet Master” for more than two years. He’d used different threats each time to
ensure her obedience. Three senior
officials in her previous positions had been compromised without having her
role called into question. Thus her
clearances had been more than adequate for her post with NIMR and she’d been
‘encouraged’ to apply for that position.
Morton began instantly reviewing Institute
recruitment procedures as she spoke. Lee
was shaken. He’d thought the admiral was
very well protected. As an agent of ONI
he’d used the auspices of that agency to employ the latest in security measures
to ensure Nelson’s safety.
“What about your partner?” Lee’s tone was harsh, not unfamiliar to Chip
and Jamie but definitely to the two women.
“I don’t have a partner.” Susie looked at him in confusion.
“Then they have someone on the inside watching
you too.” Crane informed her. “Whoever tampered with Angie’s car. What can you tell us about this Puppet
Master? How does he contact you or you
him? How do you get the spiked
coffee?”
He had begun to pace and it made Susie
nervous. She’d never seen this side of
Lee Crane. She stumbled over the answers
to his barked out questions. “I have a
pre-programmed cell phone he gave me.
When I need more coffee I call and he has it delivered to my house.”
“Who makes the delivery?”
“I’ve never seen anyone. It’s always left in my mailbox.” She had decided that the only way out of the
mess she had dug for herself was to co-operate.
“OK. You’re going to call him now. Tell him you need more coffee. In the meantime, Susie, I want you and Angie to stay here.” Halting Angie’s instinctive protest with a raised hand, he continued. “Jamie, I’m going to place a guard on this door. No one in, no one out, except you, me and Chip. And I’m going to put guards on the admiral’s room also. Same rules apply.
Chip, call Seaview’s Master at
Arms. Get some men here right away. Armed.”
Chip nodded, hopping out of the wheelchair, striding to the bedside
phone and rapping out the order. As he
spoke he heard Angie object to having to stay in the Med Bay and Lee’s growled
response to “Cooperate or I’ll have Jamie put you in restraints!” He grinned at the disgusted look on the
secretary’s pretty face and the disdainful glare she shot at Crane.
When Susie had placed her call, Crane took the
cell phone and handed it to Chip with instructions to get the lab to see if
they could come up with anything that would link them to an address for the
Puppet Master.
Overriding Jamieson’s objections that Chip was
still a patient with a simple “I need him, Jamie,” Lee followed his exec from
the room and the two conversed quietly for several minutes.
Returning, Lee instructed the girls to stay put
and indicated that he wanted to speak with Jamieson outside.
“Jamie, I need to leave but first I have to see
the Admiral.” Jamieson barely had a
chance to open his mouth.
“Non-negotiable, Doc. He may have
heard of this Puppet Master. And we need
every advantage we can get. Besides I
just….”
“Need to see him, I know!” Jamieson sighed and reluctantly gave in the
young CO. “But just for five minutes –
no more. Clear? And you are not to agitate or upset him. Understood?”
Crane’s meek “Yes, Jamie.” roused a sidelong
look of exasperation from the medic.
****
Lee was shocked by his first sight of
Nelson. His mentor and friend was hooked
up to an I.V. and a heart monitor that beeped with a regular monotonous
cadence. His wrists were restrained,
tied to the rails of the hospital bed with soft but secure material. Still his constant exertion had caused
chaffing and red weals from the restrictive bonds. His face was contorted with pain, his red
hair damp and mussed, his head thrashing agitatedly back and forth on the sweat
soaked pillow as he mumbled incoherently.
The duty nurse sitting with him rose from her post and slipped out at a
nod from Jamieson.
Crane threw an askance glance at the doctor
before moving to the bedside. He laid a
hand on Nelson’s arm and leaned forward, talking softly into the recumbent
figure’s ear. To Jamieson’s surprise,
the agitation in the prone body seemed to lessen as the semi conscious man
appeared to listen to the captain’s soothing voice. The admiral turned towards the source of the
sound, his head stilling on the pillow.
Lee continued to talk soothingly, his hand remaining at all times in
contact with Nelson’s arm rubbing it rhythmically in slow, sure motions. Jamie took the opportunity to slip the damp
pillow from beneath his patient’s head and replace it with a fresh cool
one. Nelson sighed as if the movement
had alleviated the pain in his over heated head.
The admiral seemed to be listening to Crane,
the mumbling having stopped. Jamie began
to take his vitals and was astounded to discover that his patient was cooler
and calmer than he’d been since his admittance. He encouraged Crane with a nod to continue
and Lee leaned closer then, despite an initial silent protest from Jamie, began
to undo the restraints.
“Admiral, we need your help. Jamie and I need you to remain calm. We know your head aches and you don’t feel so
good but you have to stay very quiet and do whatever Jamie says. He’s going to make you better, I promise.” At this Jamie shot his captain a fulminating
look – he wished he could be as positive as his CO. Then again, Nelson had surprised him in the
past.
“Lee…”
It was barely a croak but it was coherent and both men leaned forward to
hear the weak, slightly slurred voice.
“I’m here, Admiral.” Lee’s tone was warm, confident, reassuring,
as he clasped the older man’s hand in a gentle but secure grip.
“How…is…Chip?”
A mere whisper but both men were unsurprised that Nelson’s first words
concerned their mutual friend.
“He’s fine, Admiral.” Lee exhibited his
trademark smile, warmth encompassing the worried man in the bed. “Absolutely fine. He had an allergic reaction to the poisoned
coffee and that gave us the tip off to look at you too.”
“Not…Angie…”
“No, Admiral.”
Crane shot a look at Jamieson.
Why he should be surprised at the grasp the practically unconscious man
had on the situation he didn’t know!
Nelson constantly amazed him. “We
know who’s responsible. How are you
feeling, sir?”
“Tired.
Head …. hurts.” His brow furrowed
as he tried to focus on Lee’s words.
“Hard … to concentrate. Thirsty.”
Jamie raised the head of the bed and spooned
some ice chips into his mouth. Nelson
nodded gratefully.
“Admiral, the headache is probably at its most
intense right now. It’s due to the
poison you’ve been ingesting in the coffee.
We’re gradually flushing it from your system and the headache should
begin to ease during the next few hours.
I’m sorry, but you’ve taken such an overdose of analgesics lately that I
can’t give you anything to alleviate the pain.”
Jamie explained.
“Didn’t work…anyway.”
“I need you to rest, sir. The past few weeks have taken their toll on
your body and your resistance is depleted.
So I want you to remain calm and try to get some sleep. I’ll leave the restraints off if you’ll do
that. You were very agitated during the
night and we were afraid you’d hurt yourself.”
Nelson nodded, his eyes drifting shut but
opened again as Lee spoke hesitantly.
“Admiral, I’m sorry to keep you from
sleeping. I just have a few questions
that I really need answers to. Have you
ever come across someone called the Puppet Master?”
“Yes! Of
course! But he’s dead! He’s dead!”
Nelson’s blue eyes opened, drilling through Crane’s in their
intensity. Lee exchanged another look
with Jamie not wanting to cause the admiral further agitation. Jamieson lifted the limp wrist and frowned as
Lee continued.
“You know of him, Admiral?”
“Many..years..ago. But he died!
Saw him …die.”
“How, sir?
When?”
“Lee, he’s not really up to this type of
questioning.” Jamieson spoke worriedly.
“’S alright, Will.” Nelson croaked. “Long time ago, Lee. When... I was first with…ONI. He was a … genius. Ran lot of agents… on both sides ... Men got back…that shouldn’t have. Obeyed his instructions … and got back
safely. Did what they...were told. That’s how he got the name…Puppet
Master. But he’s dead.”
“Well, he’s back, Admiral. Or someone masquerading as him. He’s compromised three people from official
government positions that we know of.
Maybe others. And he’s been
trying to poison you for several weeks now.
Any idea why he might have a grudge against you, particularly? None of the others he went after were
hurt. Dismissed in disgrace but not
physically hurt. Why you, why now and
does it have anything to do with Project Discovery?” Lee persisted, despite Jamieson’s stern
frown.
“Lot of people want Discovery delayed…or
stopped. But think not …his
primary..motive – if it is..him.”
Nelson’s voice was raspy but getting slightly stronger.
“Then why, Admiral?”
“Girl.”
Nelson gave a semblance of a sad reminiscent smile despite the pain in
his aching head. “Didn’t get the girl he
wanted.”
“A girl?”
Crane shot the doctor a perplexed look.
“This is all about who won a girl?
This Puppet Master would want to see you dead over a girl?”
“Agent.
She was his … top agent.”
Nelson’s croak took on a sombre note.
“She discovered he was …working for both sides. Turned him in – I persuaded her. I was sent with a …team of agents to bring
him in. Charlotte was with us. He wouldn’t be taken easily. There was a battle and she was hit. Died in my arms. He saw what happened - that he’d hit her -
and left his cover. Came towards us,
screaming for her and shooting. I had no
choice. Best placed. I took him out. He’s dead, Lee. I’m sure of that.”
“Well, someone out there is using the
name. And wants revenge on you, sir.”
Despite his weakened condition, Nelson’s brain
was more astute than any healthy mortal. “Who were the others he ‘compromised’,
Lee?”
Crane rattled off the names of the three Susie
had been responsible for. Nelson nodded
slowly, recognising all of them. “They
were part of my take down team. Check for Todd Martin and Joe Molloy also. They were the … other members. Have you found out who in NIMR was working
against us? Someone who had access to
the command floor, I take it?”
Lee flushed, his eyes full of guilt as he
informed Nelson that his own secretary had been responsible.
“Not your fault, Lad.” Nelson dismissed it, knowing his captain
viewed this as his mistake. “Need to
revise ….our recruitment procedures.”
“Chip’s working on it already, sir. And we’ll be intensifying our background
checks too.” Crane affirmed.
The admiral nodded, unsurprised, cogniscent of
Morton’s legendary efficiency and fierce protectiveness where his captain was
concerned, he had no doubt that Lee’s exec was beating himself up over his
perceived failure to protect them both.
“Lucky Jamie restricted your caffeine intake, Captain.” He felt like teasing Crane a little. Sometimes – like now – the young man was too
intense.
His quip didn’t have the desired effect. Instead Lee’s mouth firmed into a thin grim
line. “She could have poisoned the
entire Institute, Admiral. And if Chip
hadn’t had the reaction he did to the coffee, you could have died! And Angie!”
He was still upset at her injuries, feeling directly responsible for
them.
“Angie doesn’t drink coffee, Lee.” Nelson had already sent a grateful prayer of
thanks heavenwards for that but now realised there was something else his two
officers hadn’t told him. “Blast it,
Lee, Jamie, what is it? What’s happened
to Angie?”
Jamieson took over the explanation hastening to
reassure the worried admiral that his young secretary would recover swiftly.
“Damn him to hell!” Nelson was visibly agitated and struggled to
raise himself up in the bed. Jamie
immediately restrained him, shooting Lee an irritated glance.
“Nice one, Captain! I told you not to upset him! Couldn’t you have kept quiet about Angie?”
“I’m sorry, Jamie. I forgot he didn’t know!” Crane was suitably contrite. “She really is all right, Admiral. Jamie would have released her already except
I asked him to keep her here. She’s safe
and Susie’s with her. I wanted to buy
any time we could. Keep a semblance of
normalcy and not tip our hand to whoever is out there.”
Nelson could usually read his captain like a
book and knew Crane had a plan but his head ached too badly to ask for
details. “Put a guard on Angie,
Lee. I don’t like innocent people
getting hurt.”
Crane flinched at the word ‘innocent’
remembering how he’d all but accused Angie of being responsible but, at
Jamieson’s warning glare, decided not to comment further beyond saying,
“Already taken care of, sir. Armed guards
on both your rooms until we get this guy.
Admiral, does this Puppet Master have a name?”
“Colin Barrington.”
****
Leaving the admiral to rest, Crane found a
fully dressed Chip Morton waiting for him outside along with Chief Sharkey,
Kowalski and Patterson. Aside from being
a little paler than normal, Chip was his usual immaculately attired self, his
khakis perfectly pressed, his jacket over his arm and cover in hand. Crane
motioned the group away from Nelson’s door allowing the two armed guards take
his place. The five men made their way down the corridor,
Crane casting a stealthy glance behind him, hoping they would be out of range
before Jamieson emerged from Nelson’s room.
No such luck.
“Commander Morton, just where do you think you
are heading? I’ve placed you on medical
leave and you are going nowhere except back to your room, Mister!” Jamie was really angry. His usually warm brown eyes blazed with
temper as he approached, casting a particularly disgruntled glare in his CO’s
direction.
Morton’s heated “I’m fine!” coincided with
Crane’s cool “Remember that conversation we had a couple of months ago,
Jamie? This is one of those
occasions. And I need you to back off. OK?”
The blond officer, stocky NCO and burly senior
ratings were amazed to see the immediate deflation of the CMO’s belligerent
stance. “Aye, sir” being Jamie’s
reluctant response as he executed a swift about turn and left one satisfied and
four stupefied men behind him.
“Lee, that must have been some
conversation!” Morton began to grin but
came to almost Navy attention as Crane swept him with his best command glare, a
distinct don’t-go-there-Mister look.
“Sure you’re up to this, Chip?” He asked in a low voice that the others
couldn’t hear as he turned and began to stride down the corridor, matched by
Morton and closely followed by his men.
“Absolutely, Skipper! I wouldn’t endanger the mission if I didn’t
think I could keep pace, sir.” Morton
adopted formal Navy mode, his response clipped, blue eyes cold as ice.
“Knock it off, Chip!” Lee sighed, exasperated, and threw him a
wounded look from under his eyelashes.
It was a look he’d perfected over the years knowing it melted his
poker faced XO. “You forget I saw you
stop breathing just about twenty-four hours ago. Takes a while to come to terms with that,
buddy.”
“Sorry, Lee.” An abashed Morton was better than a formal Navy Morton and Lee grinned at his friend as he punched him lightly in the arm.
****
“Chief, report!
Any advance on who tampered with Angie’s car?”
“Well, sir, me and Ski have been askin’ a lot a
questions this morning. But Miss Angie
doesn’t have an assigned parking slot like the command staff do (immediate
rectification warranted!) and anybody works here who drives to the Institute has
a legitimate reason for being in the staff car park. Nobody we’ve talked to remembers anyone
displaying an unusual interest in her car.
We have a list of all personnel whose cars were parked in the staff car
park yesterday.” Sharkey pulled a sheet
from the clipboard he held and handed it across to the captain.
They were all seated in Crane’s office. Ski and Pat perched uncomfortably on the
couch, Sharkey occupying the sole armchair, while Crane propped himself against
the edge of his desk. Chip had booted up
Lee’s computer and, fingers flying over the keyboard, was busy pulling a list
of all new employees to the Institute and Seaview in the past six months
– since several weeks before Susie had been employed.
Pulling the papers from the printer, Morton and
Crane bent over the desk attempting to match names from both lists. After several minutes they were down to
twelve names. Sharkey was dispatched to
investigate these. Ski and Pat donned civilian clothing and, taking an
Institute sedan, took first watch at Susie’s apartment complex. Stu Riley, another trusted Seaview
rating, was already in situ polishing the floor of the lobby and watching to
see who deposited a package in Susie’s mailbox.
Morton, the acknowledged computer expert, was following the career of one Master Spy, Colin Barrington, and tracking any leads to family, friends, former colleagues he might have worked with, especially any currently residing on the west coast.
Crane rifled through his secretary’s drawers,
looking for anything suspicious but came up with nothing. He tracked down the lab personnel working on
Susie’s cell phone but there was no joy there either. After several hours coming up blank on all
fronts he was just about ready to throw something. Almost simultaneously Chip called to him, his
tone indicating he might be onto a lead, and Chief Sharkey burst through the
office door, dragging a short skinny handcuffed individual dressed in dirty
overalls and accompanied by an armed security guard.
“Just a minute, Chip! What’s this, Chief?”
“Caught him under your car, Skipper. He had this with him!” And Sharkey held up a small toolbox. “You didn’t tell me you were havin’ any
maintenance done on your car, sir. And I
figured if you were, you’d have had it towed into the motor pool.”
“Well?”
Crane raised an eyebrow but the greasy, dark complexioned prisoner
merely sneered in response. “Who is he,
Chief?”
“Name’s Marcel Polinski, sir. Been working here about seven months in the
motor pool according to the Chief Mechanic.
So he has the know how to tamper with Miss Angie’s car. And he didn’t look like he was checkin’ your
tire pressures, Skipper.”
“Who do you work for?” Crane stepped forward until he was toe to toe
with the smaller man. For a moment he
thought the swarthy prisoner was going to spit in his face.
“You Americans!” The sneer was back, coupled with a blatantly
snide tone. “So stupid! You do not see what is under your nose.”
“He’s not going to talk.” Crane watched the prisoner carefully. He’d been party to enough interrogations – on
both sides of the fence – to instantly assess the likelihood of gaining
information. Short of drugging him – and
he hadn’t yet ruled out the possibility although it wasn’t one he favoured – he
knew he’d get nothing from this tough little individual.
“Give me an hour with him, Skipper! I’ll make him talk.” The stocky, belligerent, sometimes garrulous,
Chief meant business.
“Down, Chief!”
Crane’s tone was mild, slight amusement evident to the cuffed man. A look of confusion crossed his Slavic
features. This wasn’t going down at all
as he’d expected. Facing capture, he’d
been sure they would use the recognised interrogation procedures. However, it was clear they were not even
going to question him further. What
could they know already? Had the stupid
girl known more than they’d realised?
Not possible. And he - he had not
betrayed the Master. Perhaps they were
bluffing. He was dragged to the brig in
a state of some perplexity.
****
Chip Morton was exhausted. As the hours passed he’d amassed more and
more information. Colin Barrington had
been a prolific Spy Master. Many of his
former colleagues and agents were still alive, well and holding important
government and private industry posts.
The deeper he dug, the longer the list grew. It was going to take forever to check each
one. The XO was just about to call a
halt and go in search of some coffee – belay that! – when he heard Sharkey
arrive with his captive. Hearing the
prisoner’s name rang a distant bell in the back of his mind but he badly needed
a break. He’d been hunched over the
computer for hours, still in Lee’s office, not having bothered to return to his
own and boot up his machine. He flexed
his shoulders, wincing at the soreness in his chest and abdomen – a weakness
he’d never admit in front of Lee or Jamie.
He rubbed at tired eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the ache that had returned and looked up to see his friend and CO leaning against his own desk.
“Chip, if Jamie could see you now he’d have you
back in Med Bay and me in the brig!”
Lee shook his head. His own
stubbornness was matched only by his XO’s!
“Let’s go get some food. Why
don’t we take a walk down to the boat and see what Cookie was intending to
serve you for lunch in your hospital bed.”
“If it’s chicken broth and Jell-O, Lee, you’re
a dead man!” Morton’s facial expression
was impassive and his vocal tone flat, indicating his total seriousness!
“Now, Chip, I’m hardly responsible for what
Cookie produces!” Crane began to back
track, worried that was exactly the menu Jamie and Cookie had devised for the
XO’s depleted system.
“If it is, Lee,” the exec’s famous inscrutable
façade was in place, “that’s your lunch.
Mine is whatever Cookie has in mind for you!”
“Chip!”
“I need my energy, Lee. It’s not as if I had a wonderful breakfast
either!”
“I didn’t have any breakfast!”
“YOU never do!” Morton shot back, smug now that he had his too-easy-to-read CO on the back foot. “I, on the other hand, consider breakfast the most important meal of the day. And give it due consideration. However today…” The fastidious blond shuddered delicately to make his point. And froze as the missing piece fell into place. They hadn’t cleared the Institute lobby and he whirled for the elevator they’d just left, shouting to Lee to accompany him. “That’s it. That’s the connection! I knew as soon as I heard the name!”
“What, Chip?
What name?”
“Polinski.
The guy you just sent to the Brig.
He’s Czech. One of Barrington’s
former agents is Czech. Don’t remember
his name. But he’s recently been
assigned to the UN and he’s based in San Francisco.”
****
The ringing of his cell phone interrupted as he
poured over the information Chip had pulled on Polinski and Togarev. “Skipper, Riley reports the delivery of a
suspect package to Ms. Robinson’s mailbox. We are now tailing the delivery
man.” Kowalski reported.
“Stay well back, Ski! Try not to let him spot you. Mr. Morton and I have some fresh
information. If you can tie in our
suspect, we’ll soon be in position to move.”
Crane’s instructions were urgent.
All going well they could wrap this up pretty quickly. He badly wanted this one over.
“Aye, sir.
We’ll take every precaution. So
far I don’t think he knows he’s being tailed.”
There was a feral quality to Kowalski’s voice. “And we’ll make sure he doesn’t see us,
sir.”
Lee disconnected the call, turning back to the
report on Anton Togarev Chip had printed off.
“He’s had a chequered career, Chip.”
“Yeah.
Seen a lot of action in Eastern Europe by all accounts. Then when the former Czechoslovakia divided
he became a citizen of the Czech Republic.
Now he’s with their Consulate in San Francisco. Coincidence or what?”
“Like the Admiral says, Chip, who believes in
coincidence?” Crane studied the print
out. “Maybe I’m wrong, but my gut
instinct tells me he’s our man.”
“I’m with you, Skipper. I’d trust your instincts any day.”
“Do we have a photo of this guy?”
“Take your pick. He’s a photo op merchant.” Chip pulled a sheaf of pictures from the
colour printer and handed them over while he studied them on screen. Togarev looked every inch the suave diplomat;
stocky, a little rotund with receding hair, swarthy skin tones, moustache and
dark, almost black eyes.
There was something about him that caused a
frisson of unease in both men and blue eyes met golden over the terminal, each
silently acknowledging their disquiet.
“Chip, take this over and show it to
Susie. See what reaction you get from
her.”
“Right, Skipper.” Already on his feet, Chip swayed slightly as
he moved too quickly and grabbed onto the edge of the desk.
Instantly round the desk and cupping the other
man’s arm, Lee eased him back into the chair.
“Whoa, Chip! On second thoughts, you
take a break. I’ll run over to
Med Bay. If Jamie gets a load of you the
way you look right now, he won’t be letting you go any time soon!”
“I’m fine!”
The blond insisted but took a shaky breath. “Just hungry!”
Lee took a close look at his friend, worried
that he had asked too much of him. Chip
had shed his jacket, loosened his tie and rolled the sleeves of his khaki work
shirt to the elbows, yet still managed to look elegant. He also looked tired and pale and a faint
sheen of sweat glistened above his upper lip.
“OK, here’s the deal. You’re going to lie down on the couch here
while I’m gone. I’m gonna ring down and
have Cookie bring lunch up here. When
you’ve eaten and rested some, then we’ll discuss phase two of our plan.”
In truth Chip was too tired to object to his
CO’s suggestions - he preferred to think of them as such – and gratefully
stretched out. He was asleep before Lee
reached the elevator.
****
A short rest and some of Cookie’s excellent
food – not the dreaded Chicken Broth and Jell-O – restored Chip greatly. Lee’s return with Suzie’s confirmation of
Togarev’s identity had coincided with Kowalski’s call informing them that he
and Pat had tailed the deliveryman straight to the Czech Consulate.
Lee was pacing, practically simmering with
suppressed energy. He’d sent Sharkey and
Riley to relieve Kowalski and Patterson, supplying them with pictures of the
diplomat and instructions to call immediately they spotted him.
“Lee, you realise we have a major problem
here.” Chip chose his words carefully,
knowing he could easily spark off his volatile captain. “We can’t just waltz in there and get
him. The Consulate is foreign territory
– Czech territory. And they’re unlikely
to hand him over to us – not with the proof we have right now. Plus he can always claim Diplomatic
Immunity.”
“Can you claim Immunity for murder? Attempted murder?” Lee was scathing, golden eyes flashing
dangerously.
“Don’t ask me, pal!” Chip raised his hands defensively. “That’s one for the lawyers. Let’s hook our fish first.”
“He doesn’t know yet that we’re on to him….”
“We can’t be completely sure of that,
Lee.” Ever the cautious, rational XO,
Morton chose to brave his CO’s displeasure.
Well used to being Lee’s sounding board, it was better that the captain
rail at him than go off half-cocked and get himself into all sorts of
trouble. “We don’t know how many more of
his people he has stationed here. The
only ones we can afford to trust are the regular Seaview crew and any
Institute staff you and I can vouch for personally.”
Lee flashed his friend a grateful smile. Chip was right as usual. Since day one in Annapolis he had grounded the more exuberant tempestuous Crane, forcing him to listen to reason and tempering his act-first-and-question-later nature. That didn’t mean he had to always like – or listen to – his exec’s logic.
“So what are you suggesting? That we just wait until he pops out and then
nab him somewhere? That could take days!
Especially if he is on to us.”
Crane growled, frustration evident.
“Do we have a choice? I don’t see him voluntarily coming to us, do
you?” Chip’s tone was sarcastic but he
was sorry he’d spoken when he saw Lee’s golden amber eyes begin to gleam. “Oh God, you’ve hatched a plan, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, but you’re not gonna like it!”
****
“Are you out of your mind?” Will Jamieson was as angry as he could ever
remember being in his entire life. He
stood, feet planted apart, arms bracing his upper body weight, palms flat on
his desk as he leaned forward, almost into the faces of the two officers seated
in front of him. His fine boned facial
features were suffused with colour, jaw clenched and mouth thinned into a firm
line of disapproval. “Skipper, I am telling
you now, in my capacity as CMO of the boat, that I am seriously considering you
for a psychiatric evaluation! And you,
Mr. Morton, I am more than surprised at you!
I went along with his hair-brained scheme this morning and,
against my better judgement, let you out of here! And look at you! You’re obviously overtired, stressed out and
worse than I thought you were, if you’re going along with him on this one!”
“Chill, Jamie.
I’m fine – genuinely!” As soon as
he spoke Chip realised he’d said the wrong thing.
Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he stalked around the
desk. Both the seated officers were
tense, sitting forward in their seats, knowing Doc wouldn’t react favourably to
their – Lee’s – plan. But neither one of
them was prepared for what happened next.
Jamieson put a hand on Morton’s
shoulder tipping him further back into the seat, then placed one hand on Chip’s
chest poking firmly while the other prodded insistently at his abdomen,
eliciting a heartfelt moan from the younger man and a blanching of all colour
from his face.
“Jamie!” Lee jumped to his feet, shocked beyond
belief, pushing the CMO away from his friend.
A grim glare was shot the medic’s way as he checked on his now shallowly
breathing, sweat-sheened exec. “What the
hell was that about?”
“I am fed up to the back teeth with
you two hiding injuries! ‘I’m fine’, he
says and he expects me to believe that!
Do I look as if I got my medical degree from the University of Banana
Trees? Take a look at him! Yesterday morning he needed CPR to keep him
alive! He’s been poisoned, for Christ’s
sake!” Jamieson was yelling now, his two senior officers looking at him
askance. They were used to the ‘game’
they played with Doc, trying to escape his clutches as quickly as
possible. But this was no game. Jamie was seriously steamed. “He needs rest and instead what does he
get? You, hauling him wherever, having
him overdoing it and tiring himself to the point where he …”
“He rested. I made sure he slept for nearly two
hours.” Crane defended himself to no
avail.
“You saw how he reacted when I
touched him! His stomach and throat are
sore from the pump, his chest is aching from the shot of adrenaline I gave
him. His head is probably throbbing
because the poison is still not completely cleared from his system. For Heaven’s sake, Lee, look at him.” Jamieson swept his hand towards the exec,
whose colour was now better but his arm was wrapped firmly around his middle to
discourage any further probing.
“Doc, I’m…”
Jamie yelped. “So help me, Chip, if you say ‘I’m fine’ I’ll
put you in restraints and lock you in an isolation ward for a month!”
Morton stood, almost to attention,
his impassive XO mask firmly in place.
“Lt. Commander (Dr.) Jamieson, I wish to formally advise you that I do
not feel anything like as bad as the picture you are painting. I am a little sore in the chest and abdominal
areas but this is not sufficient to hospitalise me or prevent me from carrying
out my duties. Captain Crane has been
most solicitous to my needs. I have not
been ‘hauled all over the Institute’. I
have been seated in the captain’s office operating a computer. I have eaten and rested at his behest. Now I respectfully request that you BACK OFF,
Doctor!” His voice rose as he ended his
almost bitten-off speech.
Jamieson’s eyes narrowed to mere
slits. “You want to go Navy on me,
Commander? That’s fine by me, sir! You can hike your tail into an exam room
right now, SIR! If, and I do mean if -
after due consideration, I consider you are fit, then – and only then – will
you be returned to duty, Commander!”
“Jamie, we don’t have time for
this!” Crane tried a pleading tone,
seeing Morton was getting nowhere. “If
we don’t draw him out, make him think…”
“NO, Captain! What does it take to get through to you? I will not risk the Admiral! His health is precarious. You two come in here with your cockamamie
scheme, like Batman and Robin, and give no thought to anyone else….”
Crane’s posture and expression hardened. “Doctor Jamieson, I understand your concerns regarding Admiral Nelson. And if you think Commander Morton and I devised this scheme lightly than you are sadly mistaken! As long as that madman remains free the Admiral’s life is in grave danger. We have apprehended two plants in the Institute but have no way of knowing if there are more. The longer this Puppet Master is loose, the more difficult it will be to protect the Admiral. Think about it, Doctor! It is very difficult to provide the cover he needs. That’s been more than adequately proven, given recent events. And the Med Bay is even more hazardous than the Administration Building what with the number of people constantly coming and going. We need a swift resolution to this, Jamie.” Crane softened his tone, knowing the Doctor’s concern was primarily for his patient and unable to fault him for that.
Jamie exhaled loudly, eying each of
the officers in turn. Logically he knew
their concern was for Nelson’s well being but his ingrained medical training
wouldn’t allow him to give in easily.
“You ask too much, Skipper, maybe tomorrow or the next day, when the poison
is totally out of his system. At the
moment his condition is too unstable. He
doesn’t need the additional stress.”
“I know, Jamie, and I wish there was
some way we could lure Togarev here without involving the Admiral. But I don’t know how! Anything else is going to take too long to
set up. And we can’t protect the Admiral
adequately for a prolonged period with the number of people we have at our
disposal. Most of Seaview’s
regular crew are on shore leave and I’m not prepared to use anyone Chip and I
cannot personally guarantee.” Crane
appealed to Jamieson’s logical side.
Jamie sighed, knowing he was going
to give in but not liking it one bit.
However he appreciated the two senior officers’ dilemma. They had limited choices.
Hearing Jamie’s sigh, Crane and
Morton knew they’d overcome his objections but were wise enough not to allow
their triumph to be seen by the CMO, each valuing their current state of
health!
“Let’s go talk to the Admiral!”
****
Nelson’s head ached –
viciously. His empty stomach churned,
but the thought of food was abhorrent.
His breakfast had consisted of juice and toast. He’d managed the juice but had to force down
a couple of bites of the toast. Lunch
had been the dreaded broth and, to appease the pretty nurse who’d done her best
to persuade him to eat, he’d managed a couple of spoonfuls. The Jell-O hadn’t even been attempted.
He hadn’t seen Jamieson since
shortly after Lee had left. He had no
idea what was going on. His mind, when
he could concentrate, was working overtime.
The Puppet Master – talk about a blast from the past. He hadn’t thought about Colin Barrington for
over a decade and then only in quiet moments of reminiscence. Or Charlotte – beautiful Charlotte. She’d been one of the best female agents he’d
ever worked with – and the most loyal.
He’d had feelings for her – who wouldn’t? He remembered her quiet golden beauty, her
sensitive nature that didn’t sit well with her role as under cover agent. But she’d done her job, served her country, turned
in the double-crossing manipulator she’d loved and, ultimately, given her life
for her beliefs. God, he hadn’t thought
of her in years. But the memories were
still as fresh, the pain of her death still as deep. She hadn’t returned his feelings but he’d
been young enough to relish that unrequited love.
He stirred restlessly in the bed,
wondering how Lee’s investigation was going.
There was no way Barrington could still be alive. So, who was using his moniker? And why now?
What had triggered off the events that, according to his captain, had
begun two years earlier? Christ, he
needed answers. Lying here alone was
tortuous!
He struggled to sit forward, swinging his legs slowly over the side of the hospital bed, thankful that the IV had been removed. He groaned as his head felt as if it would topple forward but managed to hold it erect with some difficulty. He braced his forearms either side of him, preparatory to levering himself to his feet, but his nauseous stomach betrayed him. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat before he threw up, he was forced to sit back and catch his breath. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought!
Another groan was elicited as the
door swung open and he came face to face with Jamie – an already incensed-and-not-bothering-to-conceal-it
Jamie! Followed by Crane and Morton,
both with equally sheepish but determined looks on their faces.
“What the hell do you think you’re
doing, Admiral?” Jamie’s tone was
unusually waspish! Chip and Lee must
have seriously ticked him off, was Nelson’s immediate thought. “I’ve already told this pair there is no way
I’m going along with their plans, so don’t think for one moment that you’re
getting out of here any time soon!”
Good, so his boys had a plan.
Now if he only knew about what?
Obviously they needed his input and his authority to ensure Jamieson’s
compliance.
“Take a deep breath, Jamie.” His voice wasn’t nearly as resonant or
commanding as he would have liked. It
still had the power to bring his CMO up short.
Jamieson knew he wouldn’t be allowed the leeway to intimidate the
Admiral as he sometimes could the CO and XO.
That didn’t mean he had to give in totally.
He strode forward to take Nelson’s
wrist between his lean fingers, checking the pulse rate. Somewhat satisfied, he checked the other
man’s eyes, temperature and blood pressure before easing him back against the
pillows and swinging his legs back up onto the bed, covering him with a light
blanket and sheet.
“Don’t fuss, Jamie!” Nelson groused, a spark igniting as his
cognitive powers digested the implications of the CMO’s statement; obviously
Crane and Morton needed him to be part of their plan and Jamieson was
resisting.
“Admiral, I need you to lie
still. There’s still a chance you could have
an adverse reaction to the poison. We
really need to monitor you for the next few days.” Jamie knew he was battling the odds.
“I took one look at these two pups
and knew they had a plan that somehow involved me – and in a way that you don’t
like, Jamie.” Bad as he felt, Nelson
wasn’t above teasing his officers.
Crane’s dark skin hid the blush better than Morton’s and he noted the
hasty glances both threw in the CMO’s direction. “Spit it out, men!”
Outlining their plan, Nelson’s
participation didn’t seem too onerous and he wondered at Jamieson’s
reluctance. Enquiring, he was forced to
acknowledge the depth of concern the doctor had for his state of health as
Jamie pointed out the possible repercussions of the proposed actions. “Jamie, I’m going to get dressed, sit in a
chair right here, answer some questions – and you’ll be right beside me. How stressful can that be?”
“More than you’re willing to admit,
sir, in my humble medical opinion, that is!”
Jamieson wouldn’t be placated, shooting daggers at his other two senior
officers.
“Jamie, it’s a lesser risk than
allowing him to come after me in his own time.
Lee’s right, we don’t know how many of the Institute’s staff he has
compromised. If he could get to Lee’s
secretary then he could get to anyone.”
Nelson saw the flush of shame that swept both Crane’s and Morton’s faces
– and waved a dismissive hand. “Not your
fault, gentlemen, she had all the proper clearances. Which means this Togarev – and I don’t know
him personally - hand picks his people.
Now, we have one chance to convince him that he failed this time; that
he can’t count on anyone but him finishing off the job. I’ve got to be capable of giving the interview,
leak that we’ve caught all his people without defining numbers, but still give
the impression that I’m vulnerable – not yet out of the woods.”
“Which you are not!” Jamieson injected, clearly unhappy.
“Jamie.” Morton, with a glance at the other two, took
the CMO aside. “I understand your
reluctance, of course I do. And if we
thought there was any other way to smoke Togarev out, don’t you think we’d do
it? But he’s not after me, or Lee. He wants the Admiral. And he wants him to suffer. Any other course of action will prolong this
needlessly. And the Admiral will be constantly
at risk. And if he is, so are you, the
captain, Angie and I because none of us are going to leave him alone. Not to mention any innocents who might get in
the way of this madman.”
Chip’s logical analysis was the
final nail in the coffin – bad analogy – for Jamieson; he knew the younger,
calmer, cautious officer was right. His
sigh of defeat wasn’t music to anyone’s ears – they were all now in immediate
danger.
****
The interview went smoothly,
flawlessly – giving the exact impression the command staff wanted. Nelson came across as alternately aggressive
- having beaten a threat from within his own Institute coupled with a
potentially lethal poison attack - and weak – being unable to recuperate as
quickly as he would like.
Morton’s allergic reaction was sited
as the catalyst that had precipitated the discovery of Nelson’s condition,
leading to an almost full recovery on the Admiral’s part – albeit that he was
still slightly unwell and confined to the Med Bay for the next several days. The interviewer, a sometime girlfriend of
Lee’s, oozed sympathy and cajoled the Admiral into revealing – as planned –
that he wasn’t quite as up to par as he seemed - although better than anyone
could have hoped given the amount of poison he’d ingested.
Linda Nugent was the consummate
interviewer, drawing more from the interviewee than he’d ever intended, even
now – under instruction as she was from Lee Crane. It made the interview all the more credible,
seeming to tug from Nelson the inherent weakness he still felt, despite his
protestations of well being. The interview was carried on all the local
networks at 21.00.
****
All regular Seaview crew
within hailing distance had been re-called.
With a retinue of some thirty-seven men, Crane and Morton drew up a
rotating schedule to guard the main entrance to the Med Bay, Angie’s room
(unwilling as they were to release her until the threat to the Admiral had been
neutralised), Nelson’s room and the surveillance at the Czech Consulate.
Sharkey, Kowalski, Patterson and
Riley had to be coerced into taking down time. Morton, becoming the
quintessential XO, ordered them to stand down, sleep, eat and report again in
six hours. After eliciting a promise
from the exec that they could rest in the waiting area and - if needed - be
woken, the four Seaview stalwarts finally agreed to crash.
As the Med Bay settled down for the
night, lights dimming in the corridors, the few patients having been settled,
the Seaview officers re-defined their plans. Realising Jamie’s legitimate concerns for
Chip, Lee insisted he take the first watch and Chip would stand down. Out-manoeuvring his CO, Morton had a bed
delivered to Nelson’s suite where they could both take turns to rest, without
leaving the Admiral alone.
Nelson grumbled vocally but saw, and
warmed to, his officers’ overt concern. He recognised the need to draw out the
perpetrator as soon as possible and night security, following on from the
recently televised interview, afforded their suspect his best opportunity.
Knowing suspicion alone wouldn’t be
sufficient to provide intrinsic proof, they had rigged a battery of hidden
infrared cameras to record every movement and sound inside Nelson’s room. Patterson was in charge of the recording
equipment, given his familiarity with the task and equipment. Lee and various Seaview crew were stationed
in or near the corridor leading to the impatient patient’s room. Chip, playing possum – under orders – was
armed and ostensibly sleeping in the second hospital bed in Nelson’s room. He was tense and ready for combat, determined
that no harm would come to Nelson on his watch.
Lee paced the waiting area like a
caged lion, intently watching the screens that had been set up in the
intervening hours. Linda had played a
stormer, setting the scene exactly as she’d been instructed to play it. If Togarev didn’t take the bait now, he never
would and they’d be back to square one.
Crane winced – less than square one, he’d have Jamieson to placate! Lee had seen the toll the interview had taken
on the Admiral. And Jamie was
justifiably annoyed that Lee had put him in the position of having to agree to
the scene staging, knowing Nelson wasn’t physically up to the task.
Crane sighed, wishing for a
conclusion to the events he’d put in motion.
He was tired, hadn’t slept in over 36 hours – although he’d been sure to
convince Jamie that he had! In reality,
he’d spent the hours at his house pacing the deck, trying to come up with a
list of enemies capable of pulling off the crime – as he’d perceived it –
against Nelson and Morton. Now he was
physically exhausted but mentally energised.
He needed to wrap this quickly.
He knew he was on sticky street with Jamieson, deplored the position
he’d been forced to adopt with Nelson and regretted that he’d been unable to
keep Chip away from the action. But
there were so few he could trust – and Chip’s skill with the computer had
provided the lead they’d needed. Without
his exec and friend they wouldn’t have their suspect and, hopefully, the means
to apprehend and eliminate the threat to Nelson.
But he was glad that Chip would at
least be lying down during the anticipated activity. He had a radio link to an earpiece Chip was
wearing so he could warn the man to be ready for any intrusion. Jamieson had restricted all nurses and
physicians from visiting or checking on the Admiral until he lifted the
order. Eyes on the monitors, he could
see Nelson appeared to be dozing while Morton shifted around, as if trying to
gain a comfortable position to sleep.
****
Like a thief, he crept stealthily
through the corridors. It had been
incredibly easy – perhaps too easy – to bypass security. He hadn’t lost the old skills and the sixth
sense that had stood him in such good stead during his active career as an
agent.
Modern technology betrayed him. The Czech Republic was new to the ways of the
Western World and he was not as versed in the subtle and, thanks to Morton,
cutting edge devices NIMR employed. Thus
he was unaware that he’d been recorded on hidden cameras since he’d gained
entrance to the Med Bay.
Sharkey had woken Kowalski and
Riley, readying them to move, stun guns in hand, on the captain’s order. Patterson was already manning the bank of
electronic surveillance equipment. Crane
hadn’t needed to be roused. Despite
promising Doc he would rest, he’d paced intermittently. And Lee knew, notwithstanding Morton’s
exhaustion, that he was equally prepared in the Admiral’s room. They were as ready as they could be.
****
He withdrew his silenced pistol as he
approached the room where Nelson was accommodated. The stupid simpering interviewer had all but
given the Admiral’s location away, so enthralled was she at gaining access to
the famous Nobel Prize winning scientist.
He’d managed to fool them all. They’d bought into the theory that the reason
for the poisoning was to delay the latest hush-hush project Nelson was
developing. That was an added – but
nevertheless significant – benefit. His
grin was malevolently evil as he recanted how smoothly that particular
tactic had worked in his favour. Nelson
had no idea of his agenda. And he
relished the thought of acquainting the four-star Admiral with his reasons –
before he pulled the trigger. Given the
lax security on the NIMR base at this time of night, he was secure in the
knowledge that he could complete his task and evade apprehension.
Skirting the nurse’s station, manned
by a single operative busy on the phone, he traversed the corridor until he
came to the appointed room number. He
visually swept the quiet private floor before taking up position outside the
designated room. Easing the door open,
he brought his weapon to chest height prepared to discharge at any
opposition. Soft snores assailed his
auditory senses and he adjusted immediately to the unexpected presence of a
second body in the twin bedded private room.
He immediately identified the blond head barely protruding from the
blankets on the second bed from the stock shot he’d seen on the interview as
Lt. Cdr. Chip Morton, Executive Officer of the Seaview, an unfortunate victim
of the poison. But no matter, he was
incidental to the drama about to be played out.
How he relished confronting Nelson, telling him how long he’d dreamed of
this day, reminding him how Barrington’s death had advanced Nelson’s career and
the repercussions Colin’s demise had meant for so many agents overseas, trapped
without any possibility of repatriation, such was the secrecy surrounding those
paranoid times.
His first instinct was to plough as
many bullets as he could into the prone body on the nearest hospital bed, the
patient turned away from him so the only visible portion was a mass of russet
hair. His finger tightened reflexively
on the trigger of the automatic but he refrained from shooting. He wanted – needed – to have Nelson
acknowledge his killer, know who and why his death was so sought after and in
such a dramatic fashion. A quick bullet
would have been a lot easier but the trauma Nelson and his men had gone through
during the past 24 hours appealed to his theatrical side.
He sidled up to Nelson’s hospital
bed, keeping a wary eye on the sleeping occupant of the other bed who shifted
restlessly but appeared deeply asleep.
Pushing the pistol hard into the flesh beneath the Admiral’s chin he
felt the start as the flag officer woke, stilling instantly as he realised the
incipient threat.
Despite the tension Nelson had been
unable to avoid drifting off, his compromised system not totally clear of the
poison by any means. Thus it took
several seconds for the face above him to come into clear focus and recognition
dawn. It was the eyes.
“You!”
“Yes, me, Commander – or more
correctly - Admiral!” The latter was
spat with some contempt. “I see you
remember me!”
“I didn’t recognise the photo or the
name.”
“No, after Colin’s untimely death –
due to your stupidity – I was captured.
It wasn’t pleasant. Afterwards
they gave me a new face and a new name.
They changed my job, my lifestyle, everything but my burning hatred for
the person responsible for what happened to me – you, Nelson!”
“Barrington had turned – he was
working for the other side, man!” Nelson
protested; his voice weakened further by the pressure of the automatic at his
throat. If he shot now….
“No!
Never!” Togarev pushed the gun
tighter into Nelson’s flesh forcing his head upwards. His hate filled eyes bore into the blue ones
beneath him as he hissed out the words.
“He would never compromise his agents undercover! Never.
You knew his reputation. How
could you believe he would leave us out there to die – or worse?”
“We had incontrovertible proof!”
“What proof? Charlotte?”
Togarev smiled – a personification of evil and it made Nelson
shiver. “You were fooled by her too,
Harri? That’s what she used to call
you, isn’t it? But she was the one who
had sold out, Harri!”
He saw Nelson’s start of surprise
and eased the pressure on his throat, knowing he had the admiral’s full
attention now. “You didn’t know that,
did you, Harri? Neither did Colin. Until that last day. He knew when she led you to him. But he trusted you, Nelson, to believe that
he wouldn’t betray his own men.”
“He shot her.” Nelson protested. “I was there.
She died in my arms. She loved
him.”
“Yet she betrayed him. She made your Government believe that their
best man had gone over to the other side.
Despite all the evidence, his achievements, they meant nothing in the
end. You were suckered by a pretty face! She cried on your shoulder, didn’t she? Told you how much she hated to do what she
had to do. She played you, Harri, had
you exactly where she wanted you!
And she cost you! You, and your pathetic Government, who were prepared to believe that the man who had risked everything to bring his men home, who had succeeded beyond belief in training his agents so well that his success rate was second to none, was capable of such an abject betrayal. You, Nelson, you should have known! Or at least suspected. Colin ran you as an agent. How many dirty ops did he get you out of? Yet, as soon as she implicated him, you were prepared to believe her. She was a perfect fit! They needed someone special to take him out – to make it so credible that you wouldn’t question his guilt. But he deserved more, Nelson! More than a sobbing, distraught woman, professing her love for him but her deeper loyalty to her country forcing her to condemn him as a double agent. You all bought it, hook, line and sinker, as you Americans’ say! You couldn’t stand that he was so good; that he brought so many home that should have perished. You should have trusted him!
Why couldn’t you, Nelson? He counted you among his special ones. He trusted you implicitly, why couldn’t you
do the same for him? Do you have any
idea what you cost us – the dark ones – the ones left on the other side? Without him we were lost. No focus. No way out. I was one of the lucky ones. I was eventually rescued by the Underground;
given a new face, a new identity. But I
lost my family in the process – my wife, my children. All because of you. And I swore one day you would pay! I swore to confront you before I killed
you. Just as you cut him down so will I
cut you down. You should have trusted
your instincts, Nelson. You should have
trusted him. The ultimate
betrayal was yours.”
Togarev took two steps back, the
better to aim. With hair trigger
reflexes Chip Morton fired his concealed revolver as the Czech’s finger
tightened on the trigger. Morton,
acknowledged as the best shot on Seaview, timed it to perfection his
bullet propelling the gun from Togarev’s hand and leaving the assailant
clutching his bleeding digits as the room was swarmed with Seaview and
Institute personnel.
****
Four days later Jamieson had finally
cleared the two men for full duty, deeming the poison and the stress of the
intervening events to have fully left their systems. Morton had complained loudly enough for Jamie
to release him to recuperate in his apartment on the Institute grounds under
the strict supervision of one suitably cowed Lee Crane, who wasn’t about to
p.o. his CMO any more than he already had!
Nelson wasn’t quite so lucky. He’d spent two further days since Togarev’s
capture under Jamieson’s ministrations.
His health had continued to improve but his mood was dark. Togarev’s revelations had given him food for
thought and he was determined to confront the former agent’s allegations. If Barrington was innocent he deserved to be
buried with full military honours and Nelson was intent on seeing it through to
the bitter end – no matter how many agency feathers it ruffled.
But just now he had an infinitely
more pressing problem.
Togarev had confirmed that Susie and
Polinski were his only plants at the Institute.
Susie had been naïve enough to think that the only repercussion would be
the loss of her job. She hadn’t
envisaged being handed over to the authorities on charges of treason and her
terrified countenance still haunted Nelson.
She had been a reluctant pawn and he didn’t want to see her face the
full onslaught of the legal ramifications of her actions. Thus he had interceded on her behalf and
would testify at her trial.
Behind his paper strewn desk,
without the ever-present coffee cup at his side, his brow furled as he stabbed
the buttons on his phone to summon his captain and executive officer. A courtesy tap heralded their arrival.
“Come in, gentlemen.” He growled as he stabbed out his second
cigarette of the day – at 0730! Crane
and Morton exchanged apprehensive glances.
All was not right in their boss’s world.
“Admiral, is everything OK?” Crane took his usual chair as Nelson waved
them both to the seats in front of his desk.
He noticed with relief that the admiral looked to be back to his normal
healthy self. But he was mystified by
Nelson’s humour. The irascible admiral was
clearly not in the best of moods.
“Togarev hasn’t invoked Diplomatic
Immunity, has he?” Crane leaned forward
in his anxiety.
“No, Lee, in light of the crimes
he’s committed against innocent civilians, he’s been denied that right.” Nelson was pleased that the appropriate
authorities had deemed Togarev’s crimes serious enough to revoke his diplomatic
status and the Czech Republic was happy to sacrifice him rather than risk
strained relations with the United States.
However that didn’t alleviate Nelson’s
most worrying issue.
Chip’s intuition called it in
one. Shifting slightly in his chair he
tried to warn his friend and Captain by kicking him lightly in the shin. Crane turned confused hazel eyes towards his
exec but failed to catch his unspoken message when Chip nodded as unobtrusively
as possible towards the outer office. He
rolled his eyes as Lee didn’t pick up his silent communication.
“But surely that’s good news,
sir?” Lee couldn’t fathom Nelson’s bad
humour. Usually after a successful outcome
Nelson hummed with satisfaction - not on this occasion.
“Infinitely, Captain!” But Nelson’s clipped response failed to
alleviate his captain’s concern.
“Sir, is there something else
wrong?” He caught the full brunt of
Nelson’s glare as he noted the slow shake of his exec’s head. What was he missing here?
“Yes, Captain Crane, there is
something very wrong!” Nelson snapped,
temper at an all time high after mere hours back on full duty status. “Have you failed to notice something missing
in my office?”
Lee cast a glance around the
Admiral’s opulent suite, confusion evident in his striking hazel eyes. Everything looked in its usual place. “Yes, sir.
I mean, no, sir. Everything seems
to be here.” He winced as Chip kicked
him again. He was definitely missing
something – big time.
“Everything, captain?” Nelson’s tone was ominous. “Like my secretary?”
Crane’s mouth opened but words
failed to emerge. Angie had resigned,
citing a difficulty to work with Lee as her reason when pressed by Nelson. The Admiral was appalled – she was the best
assistant he’d ever had and what she’d put up with over the previous six months
had only proved it! He had elicited
Morton’s aid to persuade her to change her mind but to no avail. She was still deeply upset by Crane’s initial
distrust and afraid that, should a similar circumstance occur, she would be
again immediately suspect.
“Lee, if it’s a choice between my
submarine captain and my so-efficient secretary,” Nelson tossed the grenade,
“then I hate paperwork!”
Crane caught the distinct warning in
the Admiral’s tone and knew he was expected to do whatever was necessary to
ensure Angie’s return to the outer office.
He almost groaned aloud, intercepting Chip’s swift grin before it was
smothered behind his hand.
“Admiral, I sent her flowers – and
chocolates – and an abject apology!”
Crane uncharacteristically stuttered, almost pleading. “What more can I do?”
“Grovel, Captain, grovel!
****