Shipwrecked

 

Note:  Chapter 15 contains acts of violence that some may find too graphic.  I’ve done my best to leave as much to the imagination as possible, while conveying the essential terror of the situation.  You be the judge.  Read, skip, or skim.  Also, this is a standalone story that does not relate to any of my prior Voyage stories.  It was in fact started long before “Shadows of the Past” and “The Red Menace”.   Hope you enjoy.

 

Chapter 1 - Missing

 

October 1983

 

         “Where the dickens can he be?”

 

         “Telephone lines are down throughout much of New England, Admiral.  I’m sure he’s fine.”

 

         “The hell you are!”

 

         “He always turns up, sir.”

 

         “We’re due to leave port in sixteen hours and we’ve had no word!”

 

         “I can try the Coast Guard again.”

 

         “What the hell was he thinking sailing solo with a hurricane off shore?”

 

         “In all fairness, Admiral, every forecaster said it was heading away from land.  None predicted the sudden turn back.  It caught a lot of people unprepared.”

 

         “He’s not a lot of people.  He should know better.  I trust him with one of the world’s largest and most expensive boats.  What kind of judgment does he show?”

 

         “He’s never been one to take the same care when it’s just him, sir, you know that.  In truth, I should have stayed behind with him to help him settle things.”

 

         “Don’t be ridiculous.  You have responsibilities that can’t be shirked, added to his when he’s away.  Frankly, if anyone is to blame for him going off by himself so long, it’s me.  I should have been more supportive.  Six weeks from diagnosis to death and his mother didn’t even tell him until she was in hospice care the last week.  He looked like hell when we left the funeral.   I should have insisted he’d come back with us.  I could have arranged help for someone to close up the ruddy summer house and deal with the legal matters.  Then he’d be back by now.”

 

         “I don’t think this is a productive train of thought, Admiral.  You can’t exactly control someone else’s grieving.”

 

         “I should have tried.  All right, get on the horn with the Coast Guard again.  No, better still, let me talk to them this time.”

 

         “Yes, sir.  Just do be aware that dozens of fishing and lobster boats got caught unawares too.  They have their hands full.”

 

         “It’s a sorry mess, Chip.”

        

 

 

Chapter  2 - Shipwrecked

 

 

         Loud and insistent barking broke the silence of the early October day.   The roaring winds and thunderheads of the prior day had disappeared.  They had been supplanted by cloudless stillness.  The sky’s hue -- a clear, bright blue -- beamed in marked contrast to the prior day’s eerie gray-green skies.

 

         The salt box house was not one of the hurricane’s serious victims.  It still stood proud and upright, as it had for over a hundred years.  A few roof shingles needed to be replaced, some shutters needed repair, and the basement would be damper than usual for months to come.  The grounds, however, were a mess.  Small trees, shrubs, branches and leaf litter were strewn wildly around the house and the grounds.

 

         The German shepherd paid no heed to the debris as he sailed through the air from the porch to the lawn.  He slowed down only slightly as he descended the stairs -- twenty-five steep feet down -- toward the dock.  The dog was out of sight from the house by the time a lone figure holding a shotgun exited the house.     

 

          “Buster, stay!”  

 

         The unseen dog froze as commanded, but continued his furious barking.

 

          “Quiet!” his master ordered as she neared at the top of the steep wooden steps curious to see what had so irritated the dog.  Buster had stopped on the last step before the water covered the remaining steps and the dock itself.  All that was visible of the dock were four tall pilings, two front and back.  Off to the left, a daysailer swung between the two pilings to which it had been lashed higher than usual.

 

         Buster’s attention was fixed right, however, toward the mouth of the river.

 

         “Good lord!” the woman exclaimed.  She loosened her grip on the gun and gently placed it on the lawn by the landing.  From a box at the top of the stairs, she grabbed two soaking wet lines before she hurried down the stairs onto the submerged dock.  The sideways wind of the storm had infiltrated the lid of the box much like it had window and door sills of the salt box house.

 

         “Permission for emergency docking, please,” the figure clad in oil cloth pants and a black t-shirt asked in a weary voice.  “Barring that, permission to crash, although that’s likely the alternative even without permission.”

 

         “Of course.”  She shook her head in astonishment before she moved into action.  She waded down the last few steps knowing the bottom was coming only because of the location of the railing.  A modest current into the cove pushed her to the left as she waded toward the far piling to get in the best position to throw a line.

 

         She studied the scene as she waited for him to come in a little closer.  He was only slightly less bedraggled than the boat on which he arrived.   The boat’s condition was nothing short of a sin to a lover of sailboats.  The classic lines were still there, but her once beautiful wooden mast had splintered down to a mere five feet.  The remainder of the mast had fallen in a straight line sternward, crushing through the teak deck and the cabin entry hatch.  The charred mast barred access to most of the cockpit, including the tiller, and hung fifteen feet beyond the stern.   A short jerry-rigged sail, about four feet in height, was lashed to the remnants of the mast and to a starboard docking cleat amidship.  Whatever wind might have filled it earlier had died completely away as it entered the sheltered cove.  Only the current from the storm surge pushed it ahead now.

 

         When the man was about twenty feet from the end of the dock, she tossed the line.  It fell over the safety line onto the deck, but slightly off target, luckily not so far that it couldn’t be easily recovered.  The man stumbled stepped forward, grunted and caught the safety line on the bow to stop himself from tumbling overboard. 

 

         “Sorry.  I’m out of practice.” 

 

         The man bent sideways, picked up the dripping line, and cleated it off the bow.  In hopes of avoiding further jarring, he remained in that bent over position until the woman pulled the craft toward the dock.  The stern of the boat fought her all the way, trying to turn sideways and bash the end of the dock.   She finally managed to guide the boat in closely enough to the piling to board at the bow.  From there, it was no small exertion to step up from the submerged dock to the boat riding two feet above the water line.   After she pushed the second line under the rail, she grabbed a stanchion with one hand and the lowest safety line with the other and hauled herself above the water line before climbing over the higher safety line.  The man reached out a hand to help her.  “Thanks, but I can manage from here.  You look all in.”

 

        

          The man’s face said it all.  He’d done an amazing job getting the sailboat to safety, but it was clear there was nothing left.  “I’ll get the stern set up.”

 

         “I appreciate it,” the man nodded.  “Let me know what I can do to help.”

 

         She walked around him and carefully worked her way toward the starboard side of the stern.   The cockpit was a sorry mess, the fine teak decking shattered everywhere.   She maneuvered along the narrow decking, cleated off the line and walked back up to the bow bringing the line outside the safety rail.  “Hand this to me when I get back down.”

 

         “I could do it.”

 

         “You look so tired the current might sweep you away.  Just hand it to me when I ask, please.”  She once again topped the safety line.  At least getting off the boat was far easier than getting on it.  Once back on the dock, she asked for the line and walked it back to the opposite piling.  “Do you think you could manage to let the bow line out a few feet when I ask?”

 

         “To get to land, I would do almost anything right now.”

 

         She looped the line a couple of turns around the piling securing it with a half hitch for now. 

 

         “Now?” the man beat her to the punch.

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “That’s good.” 

 

         As he loosened the bow line, she pulled the stern line in to bring it close to the end of the dock.  She tied it off with two half-hitches.  The man, without being asked, adjusted the bow line, bringing the boat in close enough to get down on the submerged dock, and secured the line on the cleat.  

 

         “Many thanks.  Don’t suppose I could also trouble you for use of your telephone and maybe a dry towel and a cup of coffee?”

 

         “I can give you two of three.  Phones went down with the storm.  Power too, but I can rustle up coffee and a dry towel too.  How badly are you hurt?”

 

         “I just strained my calf muscle a bit.”

 

         She took note of a seeping pinkish slash in the left sleeve of his shirt that he failed to mention and wondered what else he might be ignoring.   “Let me help you ashore.”

 

         “I can manage,” he smiled. 

        

         She was taken aback by how handsome he suddenly looked when he smiled.  “I’m sure you can, but it’s a steep step down and a steep walk up, so why not save your energy for that?  I don’t expect you’ve got much left.” 

 

         “True enough.” 

 

         She once again hauled herself out of the water over the safety line.  Once aboard, she pulled the cotter pins off the safety lines from one side of the stanchion to ease his disembarkation.   She offered her shoulder and arm to support him to sitting without putting weight on the leg.  The she stepped to the side of him, sat herself down and slid down to touch  the bottom of the dock with relative ease.  She again offered her support to him.  He took it without argument.  The dog barked furiously.

 

         “Quiet, Buster.  He’s had enough to deal with already.”  The dog obeyed.

 

         “He’s a beauty,” the man said as he straightened up, attempting to conceal a wince. 

 

         “Anything aboard you need before we head up?”

 

         “Nothing I can’t live without.”

 

         “Seriously, is there any chance you have dry clothes down there?  I don’t have anything up at the house that will suit you and it could be a few days before we can get you into town.”

 

         “Did the storm cause a lot of damage?”

 

         “The roads are impassable.  Power lines are down everywhere.”

 

         “How far is town?”

 

         “Eight miles.”

 

         “I’ll manage without what’s below.  It’s too much to ask.”

 

         “It won’t be the first time I’ve dropped down a fore hatch.  Tell me -- no more arguing -- what’s worth salvaging down there.”

 

         “My clothes are in the forward locker.”  She boarded as he spoke.  “Oh, and my service revolver is in the drawer beneath the bunk, if you don’t mind.”

 

         “Navy?”

 

         “Yes, I’d ask how you know, but . . .”

 

         “You don’t look like Coast Guard, but seriously, the ring.”  

 

         “It can wait, really it can.”

 

         “No, I’m afraid she’ll be sitting on the bottom in a few of hours the way she’s taking on water.”

 

         “Damn.”

 

         “Sad.  She was a beauty.  Not many like her left.”

 

         The woman hauled her body aboard one more time and disappeared down the hatch.  Once she was out of sight, the dog started barking again, and then leapt on to the dock.  When he could not get purchase on the dock with his feet, he started to swim.  He ignored the man and headed directly for the opening in the safety rail somehow clawing and climbing his way up onto the deck.  He stuck his head down the hatch and barked.

 

        

        “Buster, you silly dog!  Quiet.”  A minute passed with the dog waiting silently over the hatch.  She pushed a duffel bag out of the hatch.  Buster took it in his teeth and immediately jumped off the boat, swam with the bag’s handle in his teeth keeping the bag mostly above water until he reached the stairs.  He flew up the stairs with the bag still firmly in his teeth.

 

 

         The woman emerged moments later, panting a little at the effort of pulling her body directly upwards through the hatch.  “Those are muscles I haven’t used that way for a long time,” she said as she paused atop the foredeck.  “Hey, where’s the bag?”

 

         “Your dog took it.”

 

         “I don’t know what’s got into him.  Damn.  It’ll be soaked.”

 

         “He did a heck of a job keeping it mostly above water.  It’s fine.”

 

         She sat down wearily on the deck before she lowered herself down to the dock.  “Here, lean on me for the dock and stairs.”

 

         “You are too kind.” 

 

         They took the waterlogged walk along the dock and the steps slowly.   The dog waited at the top with the bag still in his teeth.  “Buster, go to the house, now.”  The dog trotted ahead immediately. 

 

         “Quite the well-trained dog.”

 

         “When he wants to be. Why don’t you sit on the box a moment and rest?”

 

         “I’m fine.”

 

         “Given you’re about to accept my hospitality, I don’t appreciate the lie.”

 

         “All right, I’m worried that if I stop now, I might not make it the rest of the way.”

 

         “Fair enough.  Put your arm on my shoulder then.”

 

         They moved forward slowly and silently.   She had a million questions, but she had already ascertained several facts about the man.   He had to be a hell of a sailor to rig the boat as he had and to get it to safety; he was physically tough; and he seemed -- gun possession aside -- completely non-threatening.   Based on this assessment, she decided to get him inside first and to retrieve her shotgun later. 

 

         As they arrived near the porch, the man accepted less support from her, using the opportunity to test the extent of the leg injury.   “Lovely house.  How old is she?”

 

         “Built in the 1880s.  Charming, but drafty as hell.  Just a few more steps and we’re in.”  They lumbered up the back porch. 

 

         “I should take these off first.  Must be a gallon of water inside.”  He pulled his oilcloth pants down below his bottom before assuming a seat on a slightly soggy bench outside the door.  The woman got down to assist him remove the boots without being asked.  Water spurted on to her.  “I’m so sorry.”

 

         “Should have seen that coming!” she laughed.   She pulled the rest of the oilskin pants off him next. 

 

         “They ceased to work a while ago,” he admitted.  His lower pant legs were soaked through.

 

         “I can bring you a towel and a robe if you want to take those sodden clothes off here.”

 

         “Thanks.  I’d hate to soak those beautiful floors.”

 

         “Buster drops enough slobber on them that I doubt you could do any more damage.”  Nevertheless, she headed inside for the towel and robe trailed by Buster.  She came back out a minute later with a small table upon which she had laid a basket containing a robe and towel, a roll of gauze, cotton balls and a bottle of Mercurochrome.  “This will sting.”

 

         “I know.”

 

         “What happened to your arm?”

 

         “I was trying to outrun the storm, but then it caught up and I was dropping the spinnaker through the forward hatch when the mast broke.  A busted halyard caught my arm.”

 

         She dabbed the four inch oozing slice with the Mercurochrome as he spoke.  “If that was as long ago as I think this probably needs stitches.”

 

         “I don’t supposed I happened to find the dock of an MD?”

 

         “No.”

 

         “Well, then we’ll just have to wrap it and hope for the best.”

 

         The woman wrapped it tightly.  “If you can manage the robe yourself, I’ll go start some coffee.”

 

         “I think I can.”

 

         “You can warm up by the wood stove after you get out of those things.  You must be chilled to the bone.”

 

         “Hadn’t noticed before, but yes, I am.”

 

         “You were too busy trying to stay alive to notice before now.” 

 

         A few minutes later, with his lower half covered by a towel and the rest mostly covered by a practical flannel robe, the man reached to open the door.  Buster barked fiercely. 

 

         “Down, Buster.  He’s okay.”

 

         “Well, you don’t really know that.  He’s just being a good dog.  Aren’t you, Buster?”

 

         The woman pushed the door open.  As the man entered, Buster nuzzled and sniffed him.  The man extended a folded hand toward Buster for approval. 

 

         “Sit, Buster.”

 

         Buster complied with her command and allowed the man to pet him.

 

         “Take this chair.”  She pointed to a bentwood one by the wood stove.

 

         The man walked toward it gingerly, dragging his left leg so as not to flex his foot.  After he sat, she pulled over a caned footstool that clashed with the modern chair.  She helped him bring his leg up atop a thin pillow. 

 

         “A little swelling, but not bad.  Cold water in the boots probably helped.”

 

         “It didn’t seem like a help at the time.”  

 

         “We’ll tape that, just to be careful.”

 

         “You sure you’re not a doctor?”

 

         She hesitated noticeably.  “No, but I was a Girl Scout, a long time ago.” 

 

         He noted her odd response to a simple question, and then remembered that he’d been met by a threateningly barking dog and there had been that shotgun lying on the grass at the top of the steps.  Down Easterners were a strange lot, he remembered.   The woman had been pleasant and kind, but had yet to disclose any personal information.  Then again, neither had he.

 

         She left him to get him coffee.

 

         “Manna from heaven.  Thank you.”

 

         Without saying a word, she left again, returning with an Ace bandage.  She wrapped his leg from the bottom of his foot up to below his knee so his foot would stay unflexed. 

 

         “Feels better already.  I’m Lee,” he said, “and I greatly appreciate the help and hospitality.”

 

         “Katherine, um, Kate, Kate is fine.”

 

         “You sure now?” he smiled disarmingly.

 

         “I don’t really go by name much out here.  Buster can’t wrap his tongue around the letter ‘k’ so well.”

 

         “No neighbors?”

 

         “Not for miles.”

 

         “Wow.”

 

         “What’s wow about that?”

 

         “Navy man here, remember?  I’ve spent most of my life in close quarters.  Did you grow up here?”

 

         “No.”

 

         “I didn’t think so.  I’d guess Connecticut.”

 

         “How did you come to be all the way up here?”

 

          Lee noticed the deflection, but as a polite guest went with it.  “This was my idea of unwinding.”

 

         “Sailing through a hurricane?”

 

         “No.   My mother, she died a short while ago.  She has, had, a small summer house Midcoast.   I came to close it up for winter.   Thought I’d stay a few days and enjoy the coastline, but the sea called.  The weather forecast missed the mark.”

 

         “The storm pushed back in.  It caught a lot of people with their drawers down.  Coast Guard is wicked busy picking up what’s left of shrimpers and lobstermen caught out in it.”

 

         “I have to admit that it was the most exciting sail of my life.  I tried to stay above the storm, running full out with the wind until I thought I was clear, except crazy wind threatened to push her over if I didn’t drop the sail.  Then the world exploded.”

 

         “Lightning strike?”

 

         “Yes.  At the precise moment the lightning hit, I was dropping the spinnaker down the forward hatch.  A calf strain and a cut were a relief given how scary a moment that was.   Had I been in the cockpit, I’d have been crushed.  I dropped down the hatch to see about the radio, but found it and all the electronics were fried.  By the time I climbed back up, the storm had passed.  I guess I just caught the edge of it.  I could see that I was drifting out to sea in the dark, so I did what I could to control her.”

 

         “Cut up and jerry-rigged the spinnaker and sailed into this hell-mouth of a cove?  I’m mighty impressed.”

 

         “Luck was on my side.”

 

         “Rigging a sail like that was more than lucky, but that it worked and got you to safety, yes, I’d have to agree that luck helped too.  This cove normally isn’t navigable if you draw more than two feet of water which is why I have it to myself.   But for the water level still surging from the storm, you’d have crashed on rocks and debris two hundred yards back.”

 

         “Well, lady luck really did smile upon me, right up to your door, Kate.  I thank you.”

 

         “It’s no more than anyone would do.  You must have people worried about you.  Family?”

 

         “No family left to speak of, but I do have a close friend and colleague who will get anxious if he can’t reach me.”

 

         “You rest a while and I’ll see if I can come with any ideas for getting in contact, or would you prefer something to eat first?”  Her question went unanswered as he had nodded off in front of the fire.

 

         She stepped outside.  She hung his wet clothes up to dry, including those from the duffel bag which were damp but not soaked.  His wallet fell out of his pants as she hung them upside down.  She started to open it, but stopped herself from prying.  She brought it inside and set it atop the wood stove to dry out faster.   She returned outside again and sat.  There was a lot of cleaning up to do.  Food would rot over the next few days.  She knew she wouldn’t be back on the power grid any time soon.  With a shrug, she emptied the chamber of his service revolver of ammunition, just as a precaution, then went to retrieve her shotgun from the dock. 

 

         He was hard asleep when she returned.  Even with a scruffy beard and skin chafed to deep reddish tan from wind and sun, she had to admit he was handsome.  Handsome had not always been kind to her, however.  Still, this man’s eyes sparkled when he spoke.  There was a joy in him; she sensed a good spirit.  She’d been so flat for so long, she felt a little jealous that he could be that way.  She shook it off as a self-indulgent thought and resumed her chores. 

 

Chapter 3 - Getting to Know You

 

         Lee Crane awoke with a start, uncertain how long he’d been asleep and more than a bit stiff.   He noted a blanket on top of him that hadn’t been there before.   “Oh, right.  The salt box house.  Kate and Buster.”  He didn’t see or hear them now, however.  From the light coming through the window, he guessed he’d slept several hours. 

 

         “Kate?  Are you inside?”  No answer came.  Lee pried himself from the chair, happy he was only achy and tired and that the leg injury was nothing major.  It would be a relief if he could avoid the doctor.  Lee looked for his things.  Through the window, he saw his clothes hanging on the back porch.  He headed outside to see if any were wearable.  Although Kate’s robe wasn’t particularly feminine, he preferred his own clothes if he could wear them.  He found a serviceably dry shirt and brought damp clamdiggers in to rest on the stove.  He found his wallet on top, unfolded but face down. 

 

         He pulled out the soggy contents and spread them out to dry, curious that Kate had chosen not to do that.  He inferred that she was a private person who respected other’s privacy.  He could respect that, yet at the same time, he could not help but scan the room for hints about her.

 

         Lee spotted a neat stack of magazines on a coffee table.  The soft sofa behind the table promised relief to his achy body too, so it was an easy decision to sit down there and scan what she liked to read.  The pile consisted of several Scientific Americans; a few boating magazines; some local newspapers, all several weeks old; Life; National Geographic; and the journal “Science Today”. 

 

         Lee’s stomach growled, but he ignored it.  It would be rude to comb through her kitchen cupboards.  He should wait a while longer.  He couldn’t imagine she’d leave him alone for long.   He tried to distract himself from his hunger by leafing through the magazines.  The boating magazines didn’t hold his interest long.   Instead, looking at them made him feel depressed at the loss of the family sailboat.  It could not be easily replaced and he couldn’t imagine how it could be repaired. To boot, he’d have to bear the expense for removing the wreck from Kate’s dock, not that money was an issue.  It was just another reminder of the loss, both of the classic sailboat and his mother. 

 

         He consoled himself that at least he was fine.  Well, mostly.  He forced himself to move on by looking at the Scientific American, a bit surprised to see many margin notes by the articles, and the puzzles all neatly worked out in ink.  Just as he reached for the science journal, he heard the thwack of the screen door.

 

         “Kate?”

 

         “I see Sleeping Beauty has awoken.” 

 

         Buster ran up to Lee’s side and nuzzled his hand.

 

         “Feeling far from beautiful just now.”

 

         “Bet you’re hungry as a horse.”

 

         “How’d you know?”

 

         “I’ve seen that boat.  You haven’t eaten since the storm chased you north.”

 

         “True.”

 

         “How about some fresh eggs?”  She bore a basket as proof of the freshness.

 

         “I’d love them.”

 

         “Any way in particular?”

 

         “Whatever is easiest.  I’d be happy to do it if you like.”

 

         “No, you rest that leg.  After you eat, you might want to head upstairs and take a nice lukewarm shower while you can.”

 

         “Electric hot water heater?”

 

         “Afraid so.  Guess I should have invested in a generator.”

 

         Lee arose and hobbled into the kitchen.  “Beautiful view.”

 

         “Looking at water never gets old.”

 

         “I usually feel that way, although less so yesterday.”

 

         “Never say never, I forgot.”

 

         “How many chickens do you have?”

 

         “Fourteen.”

 

         “I’m guessing there’s a nice vegetable plot too.”

 

         “Yes, although things took a beating yesterday.  Tomatoes are from the greenhouse, what’s left of it.”

 

         “Sounds like this place is a full time job.”

 

         “It is.”       

 

         “Must be challenging to get help out here.”

 

         “I pulled the radio from your boat.  If we let it dry out a while, I think we can rig it to get a message through to the Coast Guard.”

 

         “You shouldn’t have risked that for me.  That mast could collapse through the deck at any time.”

 

         “I’m charging an old car battery using some solar cells.  There won’t be much power available, but you should have a minute or two, assuming the transistors weren’t damaged along with the wiring.”

 

         “If you’ve got the tools, I’ll look at it.  I’m pretty handy.”

 

         “I’ve got it taken care of.  You just rest.”

 

         “Are you an engineer of some sort?”

 

         “No, just a hermit.”

 

         “Who reads scientific magazines and journals?”

 

         “Don’t you know us Down Easterners read anything and everything we can get our hands on?  It’s those long winters.”

 

         Message received, loud and clear.  Her past, and perhaps much of her present, was off limits as a topic.  As a gracious guest, Lee knew when not to push. 

 

         They ate quietly, a heap of delicious fresh eggs over easy, runny and peppery, along with a lightly dressed salad.   Lee cleaned his plate.  Kate seemed distracted and pushed her food around more than she ate.  “I can make you some more, if you like,” she offered as she cleared her own unfinished plate.

 

         “No, thank you.  It was just perfect.”

 

         “Why don’t you go take that shower now?”

 

         “I can at least clean the dishes.”

 

         “I’ll just leave them to soak.  Come on.”  She extended a hand, and directed him upstairs while staying behind him on the way up.  “Green towels are fresh.  I’ve made up the spare room for you.”

 

         “Sorry to be so much trouble.”

 

         “None whatsoever.  I’ll bring up your dry clothes before you’re done, but promise to holler if you need help in or out of the tub.”

 

         Lee chuckled at the thought of asking her for help.  His reputation for refusing it was a matter of record aboard the Seaview, and he’d grown so stubborn about it that it had become a bit of a joke amongst the crew.   He couldn’t imagine asking her for that kind of help, except well, she did have a certain charm the crew lacked -- the feminine kind.

 

         Lee removed the bandage on his leg, forgetting about the one on his arm, and took a fast shower to soap and rinse.  He wanted to leave Kate a fair share of whatever lukewarm water remained.  After he toweled off, he rewrapped the leg.  He couldn’t help but observe that it was nicer when she had leaned over him to do it.   Getting a little punchy now, Crane, he thought to himself.

 

         She certainly was not his usual type, not like the bubbly secretaries at the Institute or the pampered rich girls of Santa Barbara.  Lee had his fair share of casual relationships with the lot of them and more.  It was what his life aboard the Seaview allowed, limited good times on shore, mostly spent with eye candy. 

 

         Kate was different, more like the women Nelson associated with, albeit younger.  She was on the plainer side of pretty, a bit too serious, and exceedingly self-sufficient.  He doubted she’d appreciate a man holding a door open for her.   In fact, he wondered how effective the Crane charm would be if he pushed it, but something about the circumstances and the woman made him want to push it.

 

         “Are you okay?” Kate hollered up the stairs.

 

         “Fine.”

 

         “Seriously, has your arm stopped bleeding?”

 

         Lee peeled off the wet gauze.  “Not entirely.”

 

         “Are you decent?”

 

         Lee snickered.  “Decent enough.”

 

         “I’m coming in.”

 

         “Hi.”  Lee sat on the toilet seat lid. 

 

         Kate held a basket.  “Damn.  We can either try to wrap it tighter or I’ve got a needle and some fishing line.  I should warn you that I’m not a great seamstress.”

 

         “Practice away.”

 

         Kate ran off for supplies and returned quickly.  “You may regret this.  I flunked out of home economics in middle school.”

 

         “I can’t see you flunking out of anything.”

 

         “Here, bite on this.”

 

         “You’ve watched a lot of old Westerns?”

 

         “Oh, sorry.  Maybe you’ve had amateurs sew you up without anesthesia lots of times before?”

 

         “I’ll take the toothbrush,” Lee said.  He remained stoic as Kate sewed five stitches in his upper arm. 

 

         “That had to have hurt,” Kate said as she tied off the last stitch.

 

         “I didn’t want to scare you into stopping,” Lee smiled after he removed the well bitten toothbrush handle from his mouth. 

 

         “This way to the guest room,” Kate pointed. 

 

         Lee made his way to the spare bedroom.  He settled on a sturdy chair to put on the neatly laid out pajamas waiting for him on the bed.  He observed how fastidiously the antique cast iron bed had been made, although he couldn’t reconcile the ornateness of it with the house’s owner.   He also noted how the books which lined every wall in the room were evenly aligned, even those piled horizontally on top of the vertical ones. 

 

         He scanned the titles as best he could from the chair, but many were in small print.  The majority of books appeared to be textbooks and journals, many concerning marine science and navigation, more than a few of which he’d read.  He pulled one he knew.  A name was blacked out on the inside cover.  Notes were scribbled throughout.  He re-shelved it and looked at another book, repeating his earlier observation.  The margin notes were tiny and mostly indecipherable to him, written in English mixed with some kind of shorthand he didn’t recognize.  A third book looked just the same. 

 

         Lee scanned the shelves for something interesting to read.  He stopped when he saw a narrow book he recognized:  Harriman Nelson, “The Future of Submarines.”  He could not suppress a laugh.   “Never can get too far away from you, Admiral.”  He opened it.  A dedication on the front page was blackened out to redact the recipient’s name:  “To XXXXXXXXXXX, I know your future will be bright.  My door’s always open for you.  Harriman Nelson.”

 

         Lee’s curiosity was piqued.  Although he knew the volume well, he fingered through the pages attempting to decipher the reader’s notes.  He easily made out those in the preface:  “Visionary or crackpot?  Time will tell.”  Throughout the book were notes responding to Nelson’s assertions, some with a large “no” or “x” through them, some with a “?”, others with “works” or checkmarks.  Suggestions or critiques appeared in the margins, many of which had proven true over time.  In the back third of the book, a business card fell out, one of Nelson’s Institute cards, an old version.  On the back was a note:  “If ever you change your mind, I will welcome you with open arms.” 

 

         That one struck Lee a little oddly.  Was it all business?  How old was the note?  Lee heard Kate on the stairs and, without knowing why he did it, he hastily re-shelved the book.   As he did so, a letter fell out from inside the back cover.  Kate knocked on his door.  Lee quickly shoved the letter under the bed covers.

 

         “You managing all right?” 

 

         “Yes, I’m dressed and feeling nearly human again.”

 

         “You could have taken a longer shower.”

 

         “Navy man, remember?  Anything over three minutes is a punishable offense.  Besides, I thought you deserved some lukewarm water too.”

 

         “Thanks.  I think I will take a quick shower before it gets dark.  I’ll be heading back down afterward to read by the fire.  I can bring you up a lantern if you’d like to stay up here for the rest of the night.”

 

         “No, I’ll come down and be sociable, that is if you don’t mind?”

 

         “That’s fine.  It’ll be easier to try the radio down there anyway.”

 

         “I don’t know how I can ever repay your hospitality.”

 

         “No need.”

 

         “Maybe not, but I have a desire to anyway.”

 

         “Will you need help getting downstairs?”

 

         “No, I’ll manage.  I’ll see you there in a few minutes.”

        

         After she left, Lee removed the letter from the bed covers.  It was sealed and stamped, addressed to Admiral Harriman Nelson at NIMR, with no return address, and marked urgent.  Lee was sorely tempted to open it, but resisted.  Instead, he made his way downstairs while she showered, taking the letter with him tucked inside the robe.  He settled onto the sofa, elevating his aching leg to ease the pain.  He looked at the magazines again.  The mailing labels had been removed from all of them.   Odd, but none of his business, he reminded himself.  He placed the letter to Nelson at the bottom of the stack of magazines, then flipped through National Geographic until Kate returned, dressed in flannel pajamas. 

 

         “Can you tolerate instant hot chocolate?” she asked as she went past him toward the kitchen.

 

         “I’d love it.  Not that I wouldn’t milk a cow for the real thing, if you had one.”

 

         “We’ll use up the milk at breakfast before it starts to turn.  Guess I won’t be able to put off cleaning out the fridge and freezer another month now.”

 

         “Maybe if you bought a cow?”

 

         Lee enjoyed hearing her laugh.  He had the sense she didn’t do it much. 

 

         In a few minutes, she emerged with a tray.  She placed it on the coffee table.  Kate handed Lee a mug, then settled in the bentwood chair by the stove.  They quietly sipped the hot cocoa as the last light disappeared.  The skies had taken on a pearlescent bluish/purplish cast.  

 

         “Not so bad here at the end of the earth, is it?”

 

         “I’ve been to the end of the earth.  Everything’s blindingly white and blue.  This is closer to paradise.”

 

         “You’ve been to the Arctic Circle?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “With the Navy?”

 

         “Uh huh,” Lee hedged, not wanting to bring up Seaview yet, not after finding Nelson’s book in her house.

 

         “Top secret?”

 

         “The very top,” Lee teased, expecting his response to get her to fish for information a little.  She didn’t bite.

 

         “I’ll get that radio for you now.”  She headed outside to the porch and returned with the radio pulled from Lee’s boat along with a car battery and several loose wires.  She kneeled and set it on the coffee table in front of him.  “Won’t know for sure about the transistors until we hook it up.  I lay the odds of them being fried at 50-50.” 

 

         “Allow me,” Lee said.  He quickly wired the radio to the battery.  “Here goes.”  No sound came at first.  Lee switched channels.  A burst of static rewarded him. 

 

         Kate smiled at Lee, then got up and walked away.

 

         “You can stay.”

 

         She shook her head, exited through the front door and closed it behind her. 

 

         “This is Whiskey Yankee Butler 309 calling the Coast Guard,” Lee repeated twice.

 

         “We read you Whiskey Yankee Butler 309.  Is this an emergency?”

 

         “Negative, sir.  My boat is wrecked but I’m safe.  I was hoping to get word to folks who may be worried about me.  I have no access to a phone and this radio will lose power soon.”

 

         “Go ahead then.”

 

         Lee softened his voice, in case she was listening.  “Would you please call 805-444-1212, at the Nelson Institute, and let them know that Lee Crane is fine.”

 

         “Glad to hear that, Commander.  We’ve been looking for you.   Your folks said they’d come get you if we found you.  May we have your location?”

 

         “Just let them know that I’m safe and secure, but slightly dinged up, so they should set sail without me.  I’ll make contact later in the week.”

 

         “Yes sir.  Could you at least give us a location?”

 

         “Mr. Morton is pestering you?”

 

         “Yes, sir.”

 

         “Coast of Maine, probably just a few miles shy of the border.”

 

         “Coordinates, sir?”

 

         “One moment, but don’t panic if you lose me.  The battery is going.”  Lee turned the radio off.

 

         Kate remained outside.  Through the window, Lee could see a candle burning by a chair illuminating her face.  

 

         Lee got up and went to the door.  Buster rose and followed him.  Once outside, Lee put his hand on Kate’s shoulder.  Buster rose up tall on his hind legs and nudged it off.  Lee laughed.  “That’s done.  Thanks.”

 

         “Do you need to give them directions?”

 

         “No, I just told them I was fine and I’d be in touch later in the week.  I’m still on leave.”

 

         “You could do better than here.”

 

         “If you want, I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

 

         “Not likely unless you’re hiding a helicopter in your back pocket.  Roads are still impassable according to the news.”

 

         “Transistor radio?”

 

         “Yes.”  She pulled it from her robe pocket.

 

         “Does that thing get FM?”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “A little music might be nice.”

 

         “Sure.”  She handed it to Lee.  “Find what you like.”

 

         “What do you like?”

 

         “Doesn’t matter.”

 

         “Why do you try to make yourself irrelevant?”

 

         “I am.”

 

         Lee reached out for her chin.  “Hardly.”

 

         She pushed his hand away.  “You don’t know anything about me.”

 

         “You could have shot me earlier or not let me in your house.  I know you are kind and smart.”  Lee found a classical music station that barely held.  “How long has it been since you’ve had any fun?  Or allowed yourself to smile?” he asked as he took her hand in his.  “Or danced?”

 

         “A lifetime ago.”

 

         “I feel like celebrating.  Do you think you could rally enough to join me?”  He didn’t wait for an answer.  Lee Crane, bon vivant, at your service.  He initiated an easy waltz.  She didn’t seem to enjoy it much, however.  She wouldn’t allow herself, he observed, even though she obviously knew the steps.

 

         “You shouldn’t do this on that calf,” she admonished as the piece ended a minute later.  “I shouldn’t have let you.”  She pulled away and headed inside. 

 

         Lee gave her a minute and himself one too.  I’m in full knight in shining armor mode, he observed, maybe a bit too much.  Slow down.  In another minute, he went inside.  She was stacking wood by the stove.

 

         “I need to seriously stoke this fire.  Would you mind gathering your things off the top so they don’t overheat?”

 

         “Leg’s a little stiff,” he said as he held on to the side of the couch and prepared to sit.  “Would you mind doing it for me?”

 

         Without looking directly at what she was picking up, she gathered his wallet and the items he’d removed.  She held them out to his free hand, averting her gaze from the items.

 

         “There are no secrets there.”

 

         “I know as much as I need to know about you.”

 

         Lee quietly returned the contents to his wallet.  “Tell me about all your books upstairs.  It’s quite a collection.”

 

         “I picked them up at local sales.”

 

         “All those textbooks and journals?”

 

         “Someone donated boxes of them to the library.  I took the entire lot off their hands.”

 

         Shut down again.    Still, Lee took the risk.  “When I was browsing through one, a letter — sealed and stamped, but never mailed — fell out of one.  I brought it down.  It’s underneath the magazines.”  He reached for it and put it on top.

 

         She didn’t ask about it or even look too closely at it.  “Well, I guess the right thing to do would be to drop it at the post office.”

 

         “The person might have changed their mind about mailing it.”

 

         “No way to know without opening it.  Don’t think it’s our business to do that.”

 

         “I suppose not, although I admit it’s tempting.”

 

         “I think I’ll turn in now.  You’re welcome to stay up later.  Tomorrow I’ll ride my bike into town and assess the roads so we can see about getting you home.”

 

         Lee knew he’d never make it home before Seaview set sail.  “No need to hurry.” 

 

         “Good for you, but I’ve got a zillion chores and the storm has only added to them.”

 

         “How about if I stick around a couple of days to help you?  It’s the least I can do.”

 

         “Afraid my company won’t be very good after a day or so.”

 

         “I’m up for risking it.”

 

         “Why do I get the feeling you have a job where you always get your way?”

 

         Lee grinned.  “Not to impose too much, but I wouldn’t mind a hand going up.  The leg,” he pointed.

 

         “Imagine that, twinkle toes.  Come on,” she extended her hand.

 

         At the top of the stairs, as she helped him through the door to the bedroom, he kissed her on the cheek.  “Thanks for everything.”

 

         She pulled back quickly.  “Goodnight, Lee.”

 

         “Goodnight, Kate.”

 

Chapter 4 - Getting to Know All About You

 

         When Lee awoke, the house was quiet.  He hobbled stiffly down the stairs.  He noticed that the letter on the coffee table to Nelson was gone.  He continued to the kitchen in search of Kate and Buster, but found a note instead: “Rode bike to town.  Coffee on stove.  Cereal in pantry.  Use as much milk as you like or anything else.”

 

         “So Kate really does want to get rid of me.”  Lee supposed he could let the Institute send a helicopter, but it seemed silly in the aftermath of the storm when many others probably were still in dire need of help and Lee was not.  Besides, Jamie would not let him sail with the calf injury, not when Seaview would be back in port in two weeks. 

 

         Moreover, Lee was rather relishing the challenge.  He could wear Kate down with the Crane charm.  She wasn’t immune.  He’d seen the signs amidst the resistance.  Then there was the mystery of whether she had some kind of relationship with the Admiral that kept him from wanting to leave just yet.

 

         After breakfast, Lee took a magazine and journal from the coffee table upstairs to compare the handwritten notes with those in some of the books.  He deduced it could be the same person’s writing, based on the “yes,” “no,” and “?” comments, although the writing in the more current materials was much looser, larger and devoid of the cryptic shorthand.   But of course Lee hadn’t seen Kate write any of it.   Curiosity unsatisfied, Lee returned the materials to the coffee table. 

 

         There was a desk off the front hall by the dining room.   Lee found nothing of interest on top of it, not a piece of mail, a bill, not a last name on any papers, just some generic stationery.   How odd, the thought.  Kate -- in her own home -- appeared to be a woman with no last name.   Lee knew there had to be more, but whatever identification she had, she probably carried with her.  He opened the roll front portion of the desk and still saw nothing to give Kate a last name or to indicate she owned the home she inhabited.  Maybe in her bedroom, he wondered, but that would be crossing the line of privacy invasion too far.  Maybe, he had to admit to himself, he already had crossed the line by looking in the desk.   Enough, Lee told himself and headed outside. 

 

         Lee exited the front door to look around the property.  To the left was a barn with hens roaming about it.  Lee was surprised to see solar panels atop the south side of the barn roof.  Inside the barn he found numerous hand tools and stacks of electronic and motor pieces.  On a small table in a corner sat a large journal replete with drawings, schematics, formulae, as if a thousand ideas had tried to jump from her head to the pages within.  “Well, that answers it.  They’re peas in a pod, and he must have known it then.  Mad scientists one and all, Harriman!”  Okay.  Nelson wasn’t mad, but maybe she was.  Or maybe she was the daughter of a mad scientist Nelson knew? Or maybe those books were some other mad scientist’s?  And maybe Lee Crane needed to go back to the Seaview sooner rather than later because his imagination had gotten carried away and he needed work to stop his rambling theorizing.

 

         Lee made a resolution.  If she could get him to town by car, he’d leave soon.  Otherwise, he’d play it by ear.  How long could it take to clear eight miles of road, anyway?  Town must have an inn or something; there was one around every corner in coastal Maine.  Absentmindedly, Lee picked up a bucket of chicken feed and tossed it towards the hens who had encircled him and pecked at his toes during his snooping.

 

         That’s a good houseguest, Lee.  Help out.  Stop digging.  He walked the property, gingerly dragging the bum calf along, but flexing it some to promote healing (at least that’s what he thought he was doing -- Doc might disagree).  He picked up strewn branches and added them to a compost pile on the side of the garden.  In the garden, he picked the last of the season’s green beans, cucumbers and lettuce.  Back at the house, on the south side, he harvested a ripe tomato from the greenhouse that soon would lose functionality, owing to seven shattered glass panes.  

 

         Lee returned to the kitchen.  He blanched the green beans, then composed a salad with the lettuce, adding a can of tuna.  He filled a pot with water, placed several fresh eggs in the pot and brought it to a boil before turning off the heat.  He checked his watch.  Twelve minutes later, he placed the egg pot into the sink, carefully poured out most of the hot water without tipping out the eggs, and ran cold water over them for several minutes.  He peeled the cooled eggs and composed them on the salad, impressed with his handiwork.  Only one piece was missing, but he didn’t know if he’d find them in her pantry.  He smiled broadly when he discovered several tins of anchovies.  “Et voila.  Salade niçoise,” he announced to no one. 

 

         Tired now, and conscious that the leg was complaining, Lee took his coffee mug and the pot to the chair by the stove.  He drank several cups while staring contentedly at the sea.  An hour or so after he sat dozing in and out, he heard the crunch of Buster’s paws on leaves as the dog approached the screen door. 

 

         “Good afternoon,” he smiled as Kate let Buster inside.  Buster immediately ran to Lee and nuzzled him.  Lee patted him in return.

 

         “Afternoon to you.  Not so good, though.  The roads are a mess.  Trees and power lines are still down.  We had to go through a mess several times to get into town.  Things weren’t much better there.  Most everything’s closed, even the post office.”

 

         “Speak to anyone?”

 

         “I’d lose my hermit status if I did.”  After a brief pause, she answered Lee.  “The man who runs the post office and general store said that hopefully the power company would make it up to town in a few days, based on shortwave chatter.  He offered to send a message for you if you like.”

 

         “I’m fine, really.  Why don’t you go get out of those things into something clean?”

 

         “I’ve still got chores to do.”

 

         “I already fed the chickens, picked up sticks, harvested the garden and made lunch.  That should buy you long enough to get the brambles out of your hair.”

 

         She ran her hand through her hair, hitting a bramble tangle.  “I guess you have a point.  Thanks.”

 

         “Come Buster,” Lee said, adding a whistle.  The dog responded, leaving his mistress alone.  Kate flashed a look back at Lee, one that questioned how he’d acquired her dog’s loyalty in a day.  Lee shrugged.

 

         Kate emerged a few minutes later.  Lukewarm showers didn’t give much reason to linger.  Lee had lunch set out at the table.

 

          “Nicoise salad, very nice.  There are olives hiding at the back of the fridge.”

 

         “I didn’t want to open it to look, but if you’d like.”

 

         “I would.  I’ll get them.” 

 

         She quickly pulled a tub from the back recesses of the old refrigerator.  “You want some?”

 

         “Mai oui.”

 

         “And I suppose you wouldn’t refuse a glass of wine either.”

 

         “I am on vacation, Mademoiselle.  I can refuse nothing pleasurable.”

 

         “I’ll be right back.”  Kate disappeared into the basement.  She returned with a dusty bottle of French rosé.  

 

         “A perfect choice, Mademoiselle.  Permit me,”  Lee proceeded to open the bottle with a corkscrew he’d found while she was downstairs.  He filled two wine stems that Kate produced. 

 

         “Not your first time doing that.”

 

         “Non.  And hopefully not my last either!  Salud.”

 

         “Are you always this relentlessly upbeat?”

 

         “Often, but especially so after riding out a hurricane.”

 

         They ate and sipped.  Lee could see how fast the wine went to Kate’s head.   He could not help but like the change in her.  By the second glass, she was giggly.  She’d been transformed.  Oh, the advantage he could take now, the questions which he might get answered. 

 

         This time it was she who turned on the transistor.  “Dance with me,” she said.  Lee nodded.  At first they moved around a bit, then it became a stationary dance.   Four minutes in, she looked at him, eyes welling.  “Why are you here?”

 

         Lee didn’t answer with words.  Instead he kissed her on the mouth, full on.  She didn’t resist.  If anything, she was the first to seek more with her tongue.  From there to the couch took only minutes.   Lee was enjoying himself, but wondered whether he’d gone too far.  “Are you sure?” he asked as she rubbed up against his pants.

 

         “Enough for now.   Just promise to forgive me if I curse you later.  When.”

 

         “I’ll try,” he smiled and moaned at the same time. 

 

         Minutes later, the two lay entwined on the floor in front of the wood stove, exhausted.   Buster had crawled and nudged his way in between their legs.

 

         Lee drifted off to sleep for a few moments, as did Kate.  She awoke first.  “Good grief.  What the hell have I done?”

 

         Lee had heard.  “Accepted the grateful thanks of a rescued sailor?”   He stroked her cheek, as he waited to see if she relaxed or exploded into self-contempt.  He dreaded the latter, so he moved in close to kiss her, holding her tight just in case.  He felt her body tense, heard her breath shorten. 

 

         “Swear to me you’ll leave tomorrow.”

 

         “If it makes you happy, I’ll swear it.”   

 

         “Are you happy?”

 

         “Positively giddy, considering that I nearly died alone at sea the other day.  Instead, I’m safe and sound in an idyllic cove in Maine with a lovely, intelligent woman.”

 

         “That’s not exactly happiness.  It’s more like a survivor’s adrenaline rush.”

 

         “On top of all of that, I have a great life, a job . . .”

 

         “Please, stop.   I don’t want to know any details.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “You’ll be gone tomorrow.  The less information I have to hold on to, the better.”

 

         “I don’t understand that.”

 

         “You don’t have to.  You only have to accept it.”

 

         “On one condition.”

 

         “What?”

 

         “Tell me, if you had only one day left on this earth, how would you spend it?”

 

         “I don’t know.”

 

         “Think.”

 

         “Outside.  Sailing.  Watching the water.  A simple meal at dusk watching the sky darken.”

 

         “Alone?”

 

         “Ideally, no.”

 

         “Then let’s spend the afternoon doing just that.”

 

         “I have work to do.”

 

         “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”  Lee put his hand under her chin and leaned down to kiss her.

 

         “There would probably need to be more wine.”

 

         “Is there more in the basement?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “Easily solved.”

 

         “You can’t sail, not with that leg.”

 

         “You do the work; I’ll tag along.  Just promise to yell before you come about so I have time to duck.  Come on.  It’s just one day.”  He handed her the remnants of the bottle of wine.

 

         Several minutes later, Kate helped Lee to the dock and onto her daysailer.  They didn’t go far, just a little outside the cove and back and forth some, to assure that returning before dark would be easy.  Kate did most of the work, but Lee couldn’t just sit there.  When he had the opportunity, he quietly fidgeted with the sail trim to optimize it.

 

         “You’re awfully good at this.”

 

         “I have a lot of experience.  I . . . ”

 

         She interrupted immediately.  “No details, please.”

 

         “Right.  That’s one beautiful sky, isn’t it?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         They returned silently to the dock.  She gave him a shoulder for support as he slowly took the stairs.

 

         “How does it feel?”

 

         “It’s nothing major.”

 

         “Wait here.  I’ll go get a blanket.”

 

         “And some wine?”

 

         “Right.”

 

         Soon after, they sipped pinot noir in silence as they watched the water and sky.   Eventually, Lee placed his arm around her shoulders.  “This is nice, isn’t it?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “A better way for a last day than capsizing at sea.”

 

         “Hopefully it’s not your last day.”

 

         “Nor yours either.”  Lee kissed her on the back of the neck.  Lee continued, moving towards her ear.  She stared straight ahead. 

 

         “Why are you here, like some protagonist out of a cheap romance novel?”

 

         “Sometimes life imitates art.  Well, maybe not art,” he laughed and resumed kissing her.   “Maybe just as a reminder to you that there’s more life out there.”

 

         “Not for me.”

 

         “Then for today at least.”  Lee pulled her face into his.  He kissed her deeply.  She responded, but he also felt her hesitation.   He continued to initiate. 

 

         “You’ll go tomorrow.  You promise?”

 

         “I promise.”

 

         That was that.  Later, they watched dusk settle, with Lee’s arm around Kate’s back.  The chill in the air soon dictated that they head inside.

 

         “How about I make some dinner?”  Lee offered. 

 

         “No, you rest.”

 

         “Really, I insist.  It’ll be simple.”

 

         Lee rummaged through the cabinets.  “How about spaghetti with anchovies?”

 

         “Sounds good.  I’ll make a salad.”

        

         “As long as you stay right here, fine.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “Because I asked, because it feels good.”  He nuzzled her neck.  “Because it’s okay to feel good.”

        

         “Until it all falls apart.”

 

         “If it falls apart.”

 

         “You’ll be gone tomorrow, so it will.”

 

         “You could change your mind about that.  I’d stay longer.”

 

         “No, just today.   All will be forgotten tomorrow.”

 

         “I hope not.  That would rather hurt my ego.”

 

         “Not all, just, oh shut up.”  She pressed her lips on his.   She got up and returned with the leftover wine.  “You do this often, Lee?”

 

         “No, but maybe I should, I mean, this is damn nice.”  He reached over and caressed her briefly before he returned to cooking.

        

         After dinner, they each enjoyed a last glass of wine.  A certain awkwardness began to set in.  They moved into the living room, Lee on the couch, leg up on the coffee table, Kate on the chair by the stove.  

 

         “Come here,” Lee said.  “Please, since you’re kicking me out tomorrow.”

 

         Kate was reluctant at first, but yielded.  Damn he was handsome and that smile was simply unfair when combined with those eyes and the curls that draped his forehead.  The beard, well, she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d look without it.  There was also something a little bit familiar about him too, but she couldn’t think what.  Lee moved to put an arm around her, just as she lunged for the transistor radio on the table.   To his disappointment, she turned on a.m. radio.  “Weather, for tomorrow.”   Not easily defeated, Lee once again attempted to bring his arm around her shoulders, succeeding this time.  They sat in companionable silence with Buster on the floor nudging his head between their legs.

 

         As the bottom of the hour approached, the weather forecast was given:  a beautiful day tomorrow, helpful for repair crews and those cleaning up from the devastating storm. 

 

         “Sounds like too pretty a day to get rid of a houseguest,” Lee joked, “especially one who can help out with the chores.”

 

         “You promised.” 

 

         “If you really want,” Lee smoothed over, squeezing her a little.  He felt her resistance fading. 

 

         “And now for our headlines.  Down East continues to cleanup from the storm. 

Dozens of people remain unaccounted for with twenty-three deaths confirmed in Maine.  Tens of thousands of homes are without electricity or telephone.  Utility crews are making slow progress and urge patience.  Many secondary roads still remain blocked by downed trees and debris, preventing crews from accessing lines.  It may be weeks before all customers return to the grid, especially those in the less populous regions Down East.  Sounds like a good time to get out those chainsaws and axes and turn some of those downed trees into firewood.  Just watch out for live wires, folks!

 

         On the national front, South Carolina and North Carolina continue to dig out from the devastation caused by the hurricane earlier in the week before it moved out to sea and then re-formed over northern Maine and the Canadian border.  The death toll in the Carolinas currently stands at 46, with hundreds more injured and many more left homeless.  In related news, authorities in North Carolina report that most of the prisoners from the heavily damaged Beaufort Federal Penitentiary have been returned to custody.  Authorities stress that Beaufort is a minimum security facility that harbors mainly white collar criminals, so that the populace should not feel unduly threatened by the convicts that remain at large.  Among them are Arnold Swenson, imprisoned for forgery and considered one of the best in the world.  Also at large is Dirk Christie, an industrialist who was convicted of defrauding the government by producing inferior and flawed products pursuant to military contracts, resulting in the deaths of 24 sailors on the USS Solaris.” 

 

         Kate’s arm brushed sideways, knocking her wine glass off the side table onto the floor.

 

         “You okay?”

 

         “Yes, just tired.”

 

         “Why don’t we head upstairs then?”

 

         Kate started to shake her head “no” then abruptly changed course.  “Yes.  Buster, stay here.”

 

         Lee wondered if that meant she was inviting Lee to usurp the dog for the night as her companion.  He’d be fine with that, but it struck him as off.  In the last few seconds, he had sensed her closing down.

 

         Kate left him at the spare room with a lantern in hand.  “Thanks for today.”

 

         “It doesn’t need to end yet.”

 

         “You leave in the morning.”

 

         “If the roads are passable.”

 

         “We’ll manage.  Good night.”  Kate backed away too quickly for even a peck on the cheek and disappeared into her bedroom.  Lee heard the click of the lock engaging.

 

         “Good night, Kate,” he said loudly.  Lee washed up and prepared for bed.   He wavered between feeling disappointed and insulted.  He was baffled by her behavior, but had no choice but to accept her decision.  He took a business card out of his wallet and wrote his home number and a note on the back.  “I’m here for you, no matter what,” he jotted on the back.  He knew she’d reject the offer of the card in person so he left it on top of the dresser where she would find it after he was gone.  

 

         Without much thought, Lee pulled Nelson’s book off the shelves and took it with him to the bed.  He briefly enjoyed reading through the text and the notes written in the margin until Nelson’s card again fell out.  He read over the words, so similar to what he’d just written.   No, Nelson couldn’t possibly have known her in the same way.  Could he?  Lee disliked where his mind was going.   Yes, he’d leave tomorrow if it was plausible.  He’d promised.  Besides, maybe Nelson could give him answers.  If he decided to ask them.  He wasn’t certain yet if he would or should.   

 

Chapter 5 - Separating

 

         When Lee awoke in the morning and came downstairs, cold cereal was set out with warm coffee.  Kate was missing at first, then came in looking as if she’d been hard at work since dawn.  “Chores,” she grunted.  “We leave in ten minutes.”

 

         “Are the roads suddenly better?”

 

         “We can make it partway in the car and you can take the bike the rest of the way.”

 

         “What about my calf?”

 

         “It won’t get worse for wear on the bike.  I’ll walk along with you for the last part if you need help.”

 

         “Why can’t we just wait another day or two?”

 

         “Mr. Gurney will get in contact with someone to help get you home or he’ll put you up until arrangements can be made.”

 

         “That I’d just as soon stay here doesn’t matter?”

 

         “You promised.”

 

         “Oh come on, you know what men will say to get their way.”

 

         “Women too, except I meant it.  It has to be this way.  Please don’t make this more difficult.”

 

         “I don’t see why it should be, but I’m a man of my word.”  Lee went upstairs to gather his things.  He noticed, for the first time, that his service revolver had been unloaded.  He decided not to say anything about it to Kate, figuring that if it made her more comfortable about letting him stay there, it was a fair price.  

 

         They got in the car without speaking although Buster expressed irritation at the front seat being occupied by Lee instead of him and he kept trying to hurdle over the seat between them to resume his regular spot.  Kate ordered him back and to stay three times before Buster finally resigned himself and stretched out along the back seat.   Later, Lee tried to make small talk a time or two.   Kate didn’t engage.

 

         They were able to take the car nearly half way.   Lee suspected that Kate had done some clearing the day before or that morning to make a partial drive possible.  Once they got to a large tree blocking the road, Kate hauled the bike out of the back of the wagon and placed it on the other side of the tree.  Lee sat down on the trunk and pivoted over to the other side of the road without waiting for Kate to help.  Kate insisted on helping him steady himself on the bike.  Afterward, Lee used the bike for much of the remaining four miles, taking a very slow pace that allowed him to skirt the debris and for Kate and Buster to stay close by.   The motion only strained his calf a little.   Once in town,  Kate escorted Lee inside the combination gas station/post office/food mart called “Gurney’s” while Buster remained outside.

  

         “Mr. Gurney, this is that fellow I mentioned to you the other day.  Will you help him get home?”

 

         “Yes, Miss Kate.   Good to meet you fella.  Heard you had quite the adventure getting here.”

 

         “Quite,” Lee said.  

 

         “Well, I’ve got a spare room that’s waiting for you.  You might even manage a hot shower if the generator doesn’t kick off again.  Goes for a couple of hours then sputters out.  I’ve been too busy here to take a look see.”

 

         “I’d be happy to take a look at the generator for you,” Lee and Kate offered nearly simultaneously.

 

         “Must be my lucky day!” Mr. Gurney said.  “Come on over to the house and I’ll show it to you.”

 

         “I’ll just head on back now, if you don’t mind, seeing as Lee can help.”

 

         “I mind,” Lee said.

 

         “They always say two heads are better than one, so why don’t you stay and help, Miss Kate?  I’ll fix you a hot bowl of chowder in return.”

 

         “You don’t play fair, Mr. Gurney.  He makes the meanest pot of clam chowder in these parts.”

 

         “And further,” Mr. Gurney nodded.  Inside his unlocked front door, Mr. Gurney tested the light switch.  “Out again.”  He handed Kate and Lee a flashlight each.  “I’ll show Lee his room before you get started so I can head back to the store.  The last of the batteries and candles will be gone before noon, I expect.”

 

         Mr. Gurney took Lee and his bag up stairs.  “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen or bath, young man.”

 

         “I appreciate your hospitality, Mr. Gurney.  Thanks.”

 

         “You got a message you want me send out for you on shortwave?  Or you want to do that later yourself?”

 

         “Truth is I’m in no hurry.   I kind of like it here.”

 

         “Miss Kate made it seem like you were anxious to get out of town.”

 

         “I think it’s more like Kate is anxious to get rid of me.”

 

         “I got the impression the other day that Miss Kate was enjoying your company.  Even thought I saw a little twinkle in her eye yesterday and today too.   But they do say when you live alone too long, you kind of get used to it.”

 

         “You live alone?”

 

         “No.  My wife, Elsa, is in Vermont with our daughter Bonnie.  She runs a B&B and Elsa helps her out during peak leaf season.  How about you, you married?”

 

         “Only to the job.”

 

         “Which is?”

 

         “Engineering mostly.”

 

         “Good for you.  And me too if you can fix up that generator.  We better get back to Miss Kate and the generator before she wonders what we’ve gotten up to.  Just know that if you’d like to stick around a few more days, I’d have no objection.  Lots of folks could use a helping hand right now.”

 

         They returned downstairs.  “Tools, rags and materials are in the basement.  The old beast is just outside the basement door.  If you can’t find something you need, feel free to come cabbage anything from the store.  Miss Kate, you’re welcome to a hot shower here to clean up if you need or want to.  You can even borrow some of Bonnie’s old clothes from the upstairs bedroom if you need a fresh set.  I bet you wish you’d gotten around to getting that generator last winter, after all!”  

 

         “Thanks, Mr. Gurney.  I might just take you up on that offer and exhaust your supply of Old Spice.”

 

         “Gals just love it,” Mr. Gurney winked at Lee.  Kate shook her head “no” while suppressing a chuckle. 

 

         They carefully descended into the damp and dark basement on rickety old steps illuminated only by their flashlights.

 

         “Looks just like every other basement in New England.  No one ever throws anything out in case they might someday need it.”

 

         “At least Mr. Gurney’s basement is well organized and clean.  Mine is, well, a mess, leftover from the prior owner added to by my mess.”

 

         “I’d have never have guessed you for a messy basement kind of woman.  Everything in your house is so meticulous.”

 

         “Except what I’m hiding in the basement.”

 

         “Which is?”

 

         “A mess!” she laughed.

 

         “Oh good, you do still like me.”

 

         Kate immediately clammed up.  Lee found the door to the outside, opening it to let in some light.  “This thing must be thirty years old!”

 

         “Easily.  Mr. Gurney said the missus made him buy it just before Bonnie was born or she was going to move back in with her parents in Vermont.”

 

         “He’s a character, isn’t he?”

 

         “Yes, I . . . never mind.”

 

         “Were you on the verge of admitting an attachment to Mr. Gurney?  A liking even?  Something to expel you from the ornery hermit society?”

 

         “I am not ornery.”

 

         “Well, maybe not, at least not until last night.  I wouldn’t mind it if you enlightened me as to why, given we had a pretty delightful time all day.”

 

         “How about if we start her and see what the problem is?”

 

         “Exactly what I thought I’d already done,” Lee smiled.

 

         “Wicked funny,” Kate snarled as she manually restarted the generator.  It engaged for a minute, sputtered, kicked, then died.

 

         “What do you think, carburetor or circuit load?”

 

         “Either, both, and a heap of dirt.”

 

         “Yes, now I see why Mr. Gurney offered his shower so readily.  How about if I check the circuit load first?”  Kate nodded in assent.  “Yep, she’s short-circuiting.  How about if you track that down while I give the carburetor a good cleaning just in case?”

 

         “It could only help.”

 

         Two hours later, Lee and Kate jointly had broken down the generator, cleaned and reassembled it.  “You want to test drive her or should I?”  Lee started it after Kate pointed toward him.  “Et voila!  What great teamwork.  And clearly not your first time.”

 

         Kate rolled her eyes at Lee.  His infectious good nature could almost make her forget.  She closed her eyes for a few seconds in self defense only to be startled by a rag wiping across her cheek. 

 

         “You, my dear, are completely filthy!”  Lee said as he continued wiping her face.  Kate was frozen.  “And adorable,” Lee added as he planted a kiss on her.  “Come on upstairs and use Bonnie’s shower.   I didn’t see a trace of Old Spice in there.”  Lee kissed her again, this time coming inside her mouth.  Kate yielded.  He took her by the hand.  “Come on.  I’ll scrub your back,” he said as he gently tugged.  Kate -- oddly misty-eyed -- followed, as if she wanted him, but was also afraid of something. 

 

         Lee started the shower for her.   Then he kissed her.  She kissed back.  She took off her shirt.  He kissed her again.  He took off his shirt.  She kissed him on the lips, then on the chest.  They removed each other’s clothes piece by piece after that, breaking only to kiss.  When the clothes were gone, Lee stepped into the back of the shower and held his hand out to Kate, who entered in front of him. 

 

         Washing.  Foreplay.   They became one in the same.  Kate’s arms wrapped around Lee’s neck as he held her up while they finished what they’d started.  Lee’s gentle assistance kept her from slipping as her feet returned to the bottom of the tub.  Necks wrapped around each other as hot water slid down their faces.  Kate crying.  Lee’s hand reaching out to wipe away her tears, concerned and confused.   

 

         “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

 

         “No.”

 

         “Tell me.”

 

         Tears slid down her cheeks.  “No, Lee.  I’m sorry.  This isn’t about you.  Please don’t take it that way.  I’ve got to go.   Thank you.  I mean it.”

 

         “I can help if you let me.”

 

         “You have helped.  More than you can know.”

 

         Kate grabbed a towel and fled to the bedroom.  Lee stayed back, torn at what to do, whether to do anything.  He met up with her in the hallway as she opened the bedroom door to leave.  “Please stay.”

 

         She shook her head.  “I wish I could.”

 

         Lee threw on clothes hurriedly, then he slowed down a bit when he saw her go into Mr. Gurney’s store.  Chowder at Mr. Gurney’s would buy him a few minutes.  Mr. Gurney wouldn’t let her disappear quickly.  Lee entered two minutes behind Kate confident in that knowledge.  When he didn’t see her at one of the two small cafe tables, he worriedly looked through the rest of the store but found no sign of her.  Mr. Gurney emerged from a door behind the counter.

 

         “Where’s Kate?” Lee asked with urgency, noting that Mr. Gurney’s eyes were moist.

 

         Mr. Gurney came out from behind the counter and put his arm around Lee’s shoulder.  “It’s like this, son.  She has to go and you need to let her.  She has a hard road ahead.”

 

         “God, is she sick?  Is that what she wouldn’t tell me?”

 

         “I’m not at liberty to tell you.  I can only tell you that you brought a little sunshine into her life these last few days, any fool could see that.  She said to tell you goodbye.  She said she hopes you don’t think badly of her.”

 

         “Badly of her?  I’m just confused.  Hopelessly confused.”

 

         “Women can do that to a man.  Sit a spell.  I’ll bring you some chowder.  It’ll help.”

 

         “Yes, thanks.  Maybe afterward, I can use your shortwave?”

 

         Mr. Gurney nodded.  He emerged with two large bowls of chowder and served Lee one that was filled to the brim.  “Mind if I join you for lunch?”

 

         “I’d be honored.”

 

         “Any luck with the generator?”

 

         Lee looked puzzled.  “Kate didn’t tell you?  Yes, it should be fine now.”

 

         “Many thanks.  We don’t expect power for a few more days and the temperature is going to dip.  I might have to ask you take the couch so some neighbors can bunk in too.”

 

         “Absolutely, although I think I might leave soon.”

 

         “Your reason for staying being gone and all?”

 

         Lee nodded, then took a giant spoonful of chowder.  “Chip would kill for this chowder.”

 

         “Who?”

 

         “A colleague of mine.  He likes to eat.”

 

         “Don’t we all?  Well, now that I say that, you are a bit on the skinny side.”

 

         “High metabolism.”

 

         “So Miss Kate didn’t tell me how you ended up on her doorstep.  What were you doing out sailing during a hurricane?”

 

         Lee chuckled.  “Guess I can try my answers out on you before the Admiral.  I have a feeling his reaction and yours will be similar.”

 

         “Eat first.”

 

         “Then face the firing squad?”

 

         Mr. Gurney shrugged.  They both ate, slurping the only noise for a few minutes. 

 

         “Definitely the best chowder I can recall.”

 

         “Thanks.  Now in exchange, I’d like to hear your story.”

 

         “My mother died two weeks ago, quickly, well, to me, since she never let me know she was sick.  Afterward, I came up to close up the summerhouse and well, sailing is in my blood and I knew it would help me feel a little better.  The hurricane had pushed out to sea, so I thought I’d be fine.  A lightning strike nearly did my boat in, but lady luck pushed me into Kate’s cove.  That’s about it.”

 

         “T’weren’t lady luck, so much as the pull of Shipwreck Cove.  Currents are such that any wreck within fifty miles tends to get sucked into that cove and then torn apart on the shallows.   That’s why Kate’s house is so isolated.  Most everyone wants deep water.  It’s darn near impossible to take anything that draws deeper than a daysailer in or out of the cove without hitting rocks or a wreck.  I’m amazed you didn’t hit anything on your way in.”

 

         “She’s a fairly shallow drafting boat, but not that much so.  The storm surge was several feet above normal tide, however, and the current pretty much drew me right down the center, sparing her from the cliffs.  Dumb luck, I’d say, as it wouldn’t have taken much of a hit to finish her off.”

 

         “So where are you from?”

 

         “Home was Providence, summers were in Yarmouth.  I live in Santa Barbara now.”

 

         “California’s a long ways from here.  What kind of engineering you do out there?”

 

         “I, uh, captain a sub.”

 

         “Oh, right, Navy man going by the ring.”

 

         “Naval reserve now.  It’s a private sub, owned by the Nelson Institute for Marine Science.”

 

         “That’s that giant sub with the windows, you mean.  You’re putting me on!  You got shipwrecked in a cove in Maine after sailing a little boat in a hurricane and you’re the captain of the biggest sub in the world!  Dang.  Now that’s one heck of a tale!”

 

         Lee brought his hand to his forehead.  “Yep, that’s just about how I expect Admiral Nelson is going to react.”

 

         “The shortwave’s all yours, my boy!”  Mr. Gurney guffawed as he pointed the way.  “I’m assuming you know how to use one,” he winked.

 

         Lee, head hung low, made contact with the Institute.  Angie arranged for a Coast Guard helicopter pickup late that afternoon.  Lee took a sack of mail aboard at Mr. Gurney’s request.  After he was dropped off at the Portland airport, Lee stopped by the airline counter to change his return flight to Santa Barbara that Angie booked to several days later.  As long as he missed Seaview’s departure, he might as well finish closing up his mother’s summer house in Yarmouth.  No, his house, now.  Whatever was left of it after the storm.  He rented a car and set off to see what was left of it.   

 

 

Chapter 6 - Homeward Bound

 

 

         Lee was pleased to discover that the summer house was intact, albeit without electricity or heat.  Aside from clearing some brush, there was little he could fix himself with materials on hand.  He arranged for minor repairs and upkeep to be done later by the winter caretaker that his mother had retained for years.   Otherwise, Lee bundled up in sweaters and blankets, and rested and remembered, arriving at a more peaceful place than he had been before he’d been shipwrecked.  Two days later, he caught commercial flights from Portland to Logan then to LA. and then puddle jumped to Santa Barbara.  Angie arranged for a driver to meet him.  Lee directed the driver to his home instead of the Institute since the Seaview was out on a mission.

 

        A long, hot shower was high on Lee’s wish list.   Then there was the beard.  It would be ill met by his colleagues even though there were no actual regulations against one on Seaview.  He went through three blades before successfully ridding himself of it.

 

         Lee’s other hope in going home first was to find a message on his answering machine.  While there were several, none were from Maine.  Lee was disappointed but rationalized that even had she had wanted to call, she probably still didn’t have phone service.

 

         Lee enjoyed the drive to the office, although using his calf to work the clutch led to a few grimaces.  The Cobra, top down, sped merrily along the curves.   Control of his car felt familiar and joyous after several weeks of having little control over his destinations.   The Southern California weather was also a delight.

 

         “Glad to have you back, Lee,” Angie chirped.

 

         “Good to see you too.”

 

         “Will you take me out later and tell me everything?”

        

         “Sorry, Angie.  Not much to tell.”

 

         “Right.  You were shipwrecked and found shelter with a hermit until you could get home.  No interesting details to share at all?”

 

         “Nope, afraid not.  Besides, the hermit swore me to secrecy!”

 

         Angie huffed.

 

         He sidled up on the corner of her desk.  “So, how much trouble am I in?” he smiled.

 

         “He was pretty steamed that you’d gone sailing with a hurricane nearby, but then worry took over.  Once you were found, he went back to hovering between furious and relieved.  You could have provided a little more detail to the Coast Guard, you know.  Lee Crane’s ‘slightly dinged up’ didn’t put anyone at ease.  So what hurts?”

 

         “Just a mild calf sprain.”

 

         “It’s not like you to ground yourself for something like that.”

 

         “I guess I needed the time to get my head on straight.” 

 

         “I’m so sorry about your mother, Lee.  She was a lovely woman.”

 

         “Thanks.”

 

         “You sound a lot better now.”

 

         “Nothing like surviving a shipwreck in a hurricane to give you perspective.”

 

         “Shall we send a gift package from the Institute to your hermit friend?  What do you think he might like?”

 

         “What makes you think the hermit was a he?” Lee grinned a mile wide.

 

         Angie had opened her mouth to ask when the intercom bellowed:  “Angie!”

 

         “Damn.  Seaview should still be at sea.  What happened?”

 

         Angie put up a finger to hush Lee.  “Yes, sir?”

 

         “Bring me more coffee and I want to see Captain Crane the moment he arrives.”

 

         “Yes, sir.”

 

         “Guess I should go in, huh?”

 

         “If you’d have called first, I might have suggested you extend your leave.  He’s fit to be tied.”

 

         “I’ll go be the sacrificial lamb, then.  Would you mind bringing me a cup too?”

 

* * *

 

         “Good morning, Admiral.”

 

         “Lee, lad, how the dickens are you?”

 

         “Fine, just fine.”

 

         “Seen the doctor yet?”

 

         “No, it’s nothing an Ace bandage won’t cure.”

 

         “Will won’t like you deciding that.”

 

         Lee shrugged.  “I didn’t expect to find you here.  What happened to the mission?”

 

         “Aside from you missing it?” Nelson railed then calmed.  “We aborted it and returned early this morning.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “A number of troubling things.”

 

         “Are you going to make me work for the information?”

 

         “No, I’m just spinning a bit.  Two days ago, Angie faxed me a copy of a letter that was hand-delivered here.  The contents were downright bothersome.   Right after that, I received some other disconcerting news.  I decided it best to bring Seaview back home for inspection.”

 

         “I’m not following you well, Admiral.   What exactly needs inspection and what caused the sudden worry?”

 

         “Ghosts of the past, lad, ghosts of the past.  Many of Seaview’s original parts were produced by or for Conglomerated Industries.  The letter suggested that some parts may fail from premature stress.  Even though I don’t think the danger is imminent -- if there really is any -- if the letter is correct, the results of failure could be catastrophic.  I decided to exercise caution for once.”

 

         “I’m proud of you, sir.”

 

         “Yes, well a certain Exec suggested that I think about what a certain AWOL Captain would do.”  

 

         “Hey, I was on official leave!”

 

         “To close up a house, yes, to sail through a hurricane, the hell you were!”

 

         “We still get most of our parts from Conglomerated.  I suppose this means finding new suppliers.   That could take some time.”

 

         “No, this is an issue that goes back a long time, before Conglomerated’s management changed.  I trust them completely now.”

 

         “I’m not familiar with the company’s history, Admiral.”

 

         “Nor should you be.  You were still in Navy when Seaview was built.  That son of a bitch Dirk Christie was running the company then.”

 

         “Dirk Christie?  That name rings a bell, a recent one too.”

 

         “He’s been in federal prison for several years.  Unfortunately, the bastard escaped from jail last week when the hurricane ripped through the Carolinas.”

 

         “Oh, right, I heard that on the radio last week.”

 

          “What I’d give to take his hide down.”

 

         “His conviction had to do with that disaster on the Solaris, right?  I can’t remember the trial, though.  Did he plead out?”

 

         “It was a short trial, and because of national security concerns, very little of it was publicly reported.”

 

         “So do you want to share what exactly is in the letter you got and why it has you so rattled?  Knowing you, you must have checked out the old Conglomerated parts for issues long before now.”

 

         “Yes, of course.  What I didn’t do is check out every part manufactured by outside subcontractors of Conglomerated, a damn stupid oversight.  The letter says, among other things, that the herculite windows on Seaview may be unstable ten years earlier than expected.  Apparently Christie tampered with the specifications for tempering transmitted by Conglomerated to the subcontractor.  If that’s true, those windows are subject to structural failure anytime.”

 

         “Have you looked into it?”

 

         “It’s being analyzed by the best experts available as we speak.  If the windows are bad now, we could be in dry dock for months!”  Nelson banged a fist on his desk.

 

         “Dare I ask whom the letter was from?”

 

         “That’s the damnedest thing.  It’s from a scientist who once worked for Christie, the one whose testimony convicted him.”

 

         “What about that is surprising?”

 

         “The letter is dated more than three years ago.  It arrived here out of the blue by courier with no explanation for the delay.”

 

         Lee’s head snapped to attention.  “May I see the letter?”

 

         Nelson pulled it out of his inbox.  Lee glanced momentarily at the writing on the first page.  “Anything else come with it?”

 

         Nelson pointed to the wastebasket.  “Just the envelopes.”

 

         “May I?”

 

         “Help yourself.”

 

         Lee reached into the waste can.  He found two envelopes on top.  The large envelope contained only Admiral Nelson’s name, no address, and the note:  “Urgent - Hand Deliver by Courier”.   The writing was unfamiliar.  The second, smaller envelope was the one he’d found at Kate’s.  Lee inhaled deeply in thought.

 

         “What is it, Lee?”

 

         “The scientist who turned Christie in, was it a woman?”

        

         “Yes, that’s how the defense nearly torpedoed the case.  She was involved with Christie personally and professionally.  They tried to make it appear as if it was a matter of a woman scorned, that she’d set out to ruin him by sabotaging his business.  As if what he did wasn’t bad enough, he destroyed the career of one of the brightest minds of your generation.”  Nelson’s face was red with rage.

 

         “What was her name?”

 

         “Anne, Anne Simon.  How I tried to get that girl to come to work for me.  But old Harriman Nelson didn’t have the charm that Christie did, couldn’t sell the glamour he did.”

 

         “Not to pry, Admiral, but were you interested in her for more than her work?”

 

         “Oh, Lee, I’m old enough to be her father.”

 

         “That doesn’t answer the question.”

 

         “Really, Lee, no, it wasn’t like that.”

 

         Lee continued to look questioningly at Nelson.  “Are you being honest with yourself?”

 

         “I felt strongly about her, Lee, but not that way, truly.”

 

         “Nevertheless, is it possible that she might have interpreted your interest as unwelcome personal interest?”

 

         “It never occurred to me, Lee, but damn it, you know how passionate I sometimes come across about what we do.  If I think of it in that light, I might even have been responsible for pushing her further into Christie’s clutches.”

 

         “What happened to Ms. Simon?”

 

         “Dr. Simon --  she had a Ph.D. or two.   God, I wish I knew for certain.  She disappeared off the face of the earth after the trial -- the Witness Protection Program.  I’ve always fostered hope that I’d hear from her again someday.”

 

         “Because your door is always open and if ever she changes her mind, you’ll welcome her with open arms.”

 

         “What?  Where the hell did that come from?”

 

         “Oh have I got a doozy of a story for you, Admiral.”

 

 

Chapter 7 - A Dubious Rescue Mission

 

 

 

         Lee spent the next hour telling the Admiral about his week, excluding highly personal details.  Nelson listened attentively, fighting off numerous urges to interrupt and question.

 

         “I don’t suppose you have any pictures of Dr. Simon?”

 

         “I’m sure I can rummage up one from my files, but I can’t imagine who else it could be.  Can you?”

 

         “No, I’d pretty much concluded the books were hers before I left.  I just didn’t know who she was.”

 

         Nelson turned his chair away from Lee, rolled it two feet to the right of his credenza, and stopped in front of a four foot tall locked filing cabinet.  Lee knew this to be Nelson’s personal cabinet.  Nelson unlocked it, reached into the third drawer, and pulled out a newspaper clipping of Dr. Anne Simon and Dirk Christie, which he handed to Lee.   After a second’s look, Lee nodded affirmatively.

 

        “Well, Lee, what do we do now?”

 

         “Do?”

 

         “She’s got a brilliant mind that going to waste.  It’s ridiculous.”

 

         “She’s a grown woman, Admiral.  If she wanted to be elsewhere, she would go.”

 

         “Oh, bosh.  She just doesn’t realize she has other options, real options.  Besides, with Christie on the loose, she’s in grave danger.”

 

         “She obviously knew that.  That’s why she wouldn’t let me stay another day, even though the roads still weren’t clear.”

 

         “We can help her, Lee.”

 

         “She doesn’t want our help.”

 

         “How do you know?”

 

         “Because I left the door open for her too.  She hasn’t called.”

 

         “What about this?”  Nelson slammed the letter from her on the desk.

 

         “That’s not a request for help.  She’s helping us.”

 

         “So I have to take her help and not return any?  Don’t be absurd.”

 

         “Admiral, this didn’t work the last time you pursued her.  Maybe there’s a lesson there?”

 

         “Lee Crane, sometimes you are the biggest stick in the mud!”  Nelson lit a cigarette and paused.  “And speaking of sticks in the mud, you have a wreck that you’re obligated to remove from her property.  Don’t you think you should do that sooner rather than later?”

 

         “Sure, sir.  Why don’t we take the Seaview there to help while we’re at it?”

 

         The Admiral sighed loudly in frustration.   “Go on home for the rest of the day, Lee.  We’ll talk more tomorrow.  Let cooler heads prevail.”

 

         “Yes, sir.”   Lee left wondering if Nelson was referring to his own head or some imagined conduct of Lee’s he’d use to justify his own wants.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

 

* * * * *

 

         Lee had a fair inkling of the Admiral’s intentions when Chip called him later that night.  “What’s up, Lee?  The Admiral called and told me to show up first thing in the morning with a bag packed for a few days, for someplace colder than here.  When I asked him if you were coming, he said he didn’t know.”

 

         “Hard to know if you don’t ask.”

 

         “He didn’t call you?”

 

         “No, he’s busy pretending to me that he’s thinking before he acts.”

 

         “So you know what it’s about, Lee?”

 

         “More or less.” 

 

         “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

 

         “Yes, I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

         “With a packed bag?”

 

         “Someone’s got to handle him.  Goodnight.”   

 

         Lee had difficulty falling asleep, troubled by several things.  First, he’d left Kate when she was in danger.  Had he known or understood, he wouldn’t have gone, or at the least he would have hovered nearby.   Given that, he wondered why he argued with Nelson against going to help her.  Was it really out of respect for Kate’s wishes, the true motivation for which he did not know when he’d left?   Or was Lee somehow troubled by the underlying relationship between Kate and the Admiral, a relationship about which he knew Nelson was not being honest?  After all, he kept clippings and a file about her in his personal cabinet, not the Institute’s.  Then there was the puzzling question of why he kept a file on Anne Simon in the drawer marked “N-R”.

 

* * *

 

         Lee arrived at Nelson’s office at 5:45 a.m.  He hoped that being early would get him a private audience with the Admiral.  Lee knocked on the door. 

 

         “Come in, Lee.”

 

         “How’d you know?”

 

         “Only time you’re not early is if you’ve been kidnapped or taken over by an alien.”

 

         “I want you to reconsider this.”

 

         “No.”

 

         “Look, the Justice Department knows about Christie’s escape.  The U.S. Marshals will take care of her security if she’s in the Witness Protection Program.   We don’t need to get in their crosshairs.”

 

         “True, the Department is aware of the situation, but their resources in Maine are quite limited, especially so given the situation in the Carolinas.  They indicated they would be delighted if we could provide her with private security.”

 

         “She won’t react well to your bull in the china shop act.  I don’t know the details, but I have a good hunch she didn’t the last time.”

 

         “Then when she’s safe, she can tell me to stuff my job offer.   This is something I need to do.”

 

         “Why do you feel so strongly about this?”

 

         “I told you yesterday, she has one of the finest scientific minds of your generation.  Is that not enough?  What’s the matter with you?  Why don’t you want to help her?”

 

         “I’m just trying to respect her wishes.”

 

         “I’m just trying to give her the protection her government promised her.”

 

         “There are things you’re not telling me, Admiral.”

 

         “Nothing that we can’t cover as we travel.”

 

         Lee knew he’d been outmaneuvered by the old man yet again.  He could not help but laugh inwardly at the fact, even as he harbored serious doubts about what they were about to do.

 

         “Anything special we need to take?”

 

         “Your sidearm.  I’ve taken care of everything else.”

 

         “What does everything else include, Sir?”

 

         “Sharkey and Kowalski will be meeting us there.”

 

         “If we’re going on the Institute’s plane, why wouldn’t they go with us?”

 

         “They’ll be bringing the Flying Sub.”

 

         “What the devil?  Why, Admiral?”

 

         “I have my reasons.”

 

         “Do you know how many UFO sightings will result?”

 

         The Admiral smiled coyly.  “It’s been a dull week in the Midwest.”

 

         “You are going to explain it to me?”

 

         “Later,” Nelson sighed in relief as Chip and Will Jamieson arrived, bags at their feet, puzzled looks on their faces. 

 

         “What’s this all about, Admiral?” the doctor asked. 

 

         “All in due course.”

 

         “Captain, your leg is taped.  What’s wrong with it?”

 

         “Do you have x-ray vision or something, Doc?”

 

         “I can tell by how you’re moving.”

 

         “And by Mr. Morton’s big mouth,” Lee said casting a glance at his friend.  “It’s just a mild calf strain, no big deal.”

 

         “Well, I’ll have plenty of time to make that determination myself over the next few hours, won’t I?”

 

* * *

         Once on board the plane, the Admiral opted for a nap instead of talking.  Chip followed suit.  

 

         “Pull up the pant leg,” Jamie demanded.

 

         Lee rolled his eyes.

 

         “Don’t mess with me, Lee.  I have a gown in this bag and if you don’t cooperate, I’ll insist on a full exam.”

 

         Lee huffed and pulled up the pant leg.  “Honestly, Jamie, besides a couple of cuts and bruises, I got a mild calf sprain.”

 

         Jamie untaped Lee’s leg, moved it around a little and re-taped it without saying a word. 

 

         “I told you it wasn’t serious.”

 

         “History has taught me to discount your self diagnoses, although I’ll concede that you’re right this time.”

 

         “No compliments on my taping skills?”

 

         “With all the practice you’ve had, I’ve come to expect a level of excellence.  Lee, I’m worried about the Admiral.  What’s really going on?”

 

         “He’s not being forthcoming with me either, Jamie.  There’s something very personal going on.”

 

         “Stop whispering about me you two.  Get some shuteye.  There won’t be a lot on the other end.”

 

         Two hours later, the Admiral woke Chip and Jamie for the promised powwow.  Lee did not appear to have rested, but to have spent the time staring at the Admiral.

 

         “Our goal is to find Dr. Simon and bring her back to Santa Barbara.”

 

         “Whether or not she wants to come?”  Lee asked pointedly.

 

         “For now, yes.  It’s a matter of national security.”

 

         “How?  It’s been years since she had any access to any classified data,” Lee argued.

 

         “It doesn’t get old that fast.”

 

         “Then what do you mean ‘find her’?  I’m unaware that she’s missing.”

 

         “According to our source, Lee, she left her home shortly after you departed, ostensibly to report to a safe house.  Our source believes she intends to return, however.”

 

         “Mr. Gurney?”

 

         “Yes, he is her contact in the Witness Protection Program.  He’s a retired policeman.”

 

         “What does he think?”

 

         “He said that she was very torn up when he gave her the news.  He wasn’t sure that she was going to comply, and frankly, at the time, he wasn’t sure how she was supposed to comply.  The roads were still not entirely passable.”

 

         “We had to leave the car a few miles outside of town.”

 

         “Mr. Gurney offered his car, but she wouldn’t take it.  Then he arranged for a friend to clear the way from her house with a bulldozer.”

 

         “So do we know if she left?” Chip asked.

 

         “Yes, Mr. Gurney saw her car pass through later in the day.  That said, he wasn’t convinced she was going to report to the safe house.”

 

         “Why?” Lee asked.

 

         “Because she did not ask him to look after the chickens.”

 

         “With due respect, Admiral,” Chip offered, “an escaped felon may be coming after her for revenge and chickens are relevant?”

 

         “I’ll field that one.  Yes, Chip,” Lee said.

 

         “Care to explain that to me?”

 

         “Let me try, Commander Morton,” the Doctor interrupted.  “Can you imagine someone who -- for whatever reason -- always places other’s needs and welfare above their own?”

 

         Lee glanced crossly at the doctor.

 

         “We’re talking chickens, here,” Chip said.  “You know, you can just open the coop doors and let them out to forage for insects.  They’ve managed to feed themselves without human help for thousands of years.  Organic, non-grain fed, cage free, delicious.  The birds and their eggs.”

 

         “All true, but I think we have to presume that Mr. Gurney knows her better than we do,” said the Admiral. 

 

         “That and the fact that she has yet to report to the safe house, correct, Admiral?” Lee half asked, half stated.

 

         Nelson’s eyes narrowed at Lee.  “Yes, that’s correct.”

        

         “Meaning the Justice Department has bowed out -- since she’s violated the terms of the Witness Protection Program?”

 

         “Did you make your own inquiries?” Nelson accused Lee.

 

         “No, I just know how the game is played.”

 

         “So what’s the plan and why am I along?”

 

         “Hopefully just for good cheer and company, Doctor,” Nelson answered. 

 

         “Right.  I brought my bag — the big one — just in case.”

 

         “Good.  When we get to Brunswick NAS, we’ll be splitting up.  Will and Chip, you’ll be flown to a private airfield near Bar Harbor.  A car will be waiting for you.  You’ll check from Ellsworth north as far as Machias, following up on Mr. Gurney’s theory that in lieu of following the Department of Justice’s order to report to a safe house, she went on a supply run.  Be discreet as we may not be the only ones looking for her.  I’ve packed a briefcase for you with more details and a DynaTAC since most of the phone lines in the area are still down.  Use the battery judiciously.”

 

         “Sounds like we’re looking for a needle in a haystack, Admiral,” Will said.

 

         “Maine’s just a series of small towns.”

 

         “Filled with people who don’t like to talk about other people’s business,” Lee added.  “So what about you and me?”

 

         “Lee, you don’t need to be running around on that leg.  We’ll be going to Anne’s house.  Kowalski and Sharkey will meet us there with FS1. ”

 

         Crane withheld the myriad questions he had.  He knew Nelson was holding back, but he didn’t want to push him in front of Chip and Will.  From experience, he knew that could end badly.  The others must have sensed the same thing, because no one asked any follow up questions.  Indeed, there was little conversation relating to Kate for the rest of the journey. 

 

         Moments after the plane arrived in Brunswick, a naval lieutenant boarded and handed Admiral Nelson a manila envelope bearing “Confidential” and “Urgent” stamps.   “Welcome to Brunswick NAS, Admiral.   The plane you requested is standing by.   There’s been a slight delay in the helicopter’s arrival, however.”

 

         The Admiral looked slightly exasperated.  “Will, Chip, run along.  Just keep your eyes and ears open.  Contact me immediately if you learn anything.”

 

         Both Chip and Will looked puzzled.  This was hardly a job for which either was well-qualified.  Nevertheless, they acceded to the Admiral’s wishes.   Personally, Chip relished the opportunity to eat cold water lobster as much as possible on the way.

 

         The lieutenant continued:  “Any time you are ready, Admiral Nelson, I’ll escort you to HQ.” 

 

         Lee peeked outside and saw a jeep, complete with a master-at-arms.  “Escort, huh?”

 

         The Admiral looked just as confused as Lee. 

 

Chapter 8 - A Lot of Explaining To Do

 

 

         Nelson held the envelope and waited for the lieutenant to exit. 

 

         “You need me to leave too, Admiral?”

 

         “No, don’t be silly.”  Nelson unsealed the envelope and read the single page quickly.  “Damn it.”

 

         “What is it?”

 

         “The Joint Chiefs want me to join them in a video call an hour from now.  It’s expected to last at least an hour.”

 

         “What do you want to do?”

 

         “Scream.  Barring that, I guess I’ll send you ahead.  I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can.”

 

         “That gives us approximately fifty minutes for you to explain things to me.”

 

         Nelson’s head hung low.  “It’s a complicated story, Lee.  One that began years ago and for which I feel guilt.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “I’m the reason for Anne’s troubles.”

 

         “I’m completely lost.  How about starting at the beginning?”

 

         “I will, but first, I have to tell you that you are right.  Anne didn’t report to the safe house.  The Justice Department concluded that it was intentional on her part and has withdrawn protection.  That’s why I must protect her.  And you, if you choose to help.”

 

         “I’m here.  I’ve chosen to help her.  Now let me in on the facts so I know what we’re up against.  Why are you so deeply invested in pursuing Dirk Christie?”

 

         “Lee. I had a significant role in bringing Dirk Christie to justice.”

 

         “Big enough to make an enemy for life?”

 

         “Yes, I’ve received two telephone threats since he escaped.”

 

         “You what?  Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

         “Please, Lee, calm down.  I don’t view his threats toward me as all that serious.” 

 

         “What did they say?”

 

         “Pretty generic stuff, like ‘your time is coming, it’s payback time, Nelson.’”

 

         “Nothing specific at all?”

 

         “Lee, I know what Christie’s issues with me are.  I know what the threat means.”

 

         “Okay, just tell me the story.”

 

         “You remember the disaster on the Solaris?”

 

         “Yes, it was tragic.  An engine room blast.  Twenty-four sailors died, many more were injured.”

 

         “After the accident, I was brought in to consult as to possible causes.  It was a difficult investigation, Lee.   Looking under the microscope at bits of parts recovered from the scene, parts covered with the blood and residue of the dead.  When we finished looking, both the  metallurgists and I concluded the accident was a result of defective or inferior parts from Conglomerated.  But it was the way the parts appeared to have been fabricated that set off the bigger alarm, Lee.  What we found were parts that could pass a visual inspection, but had been structurally flawed.  When we looked at similar parts elsewhere on the ship, we found more of the same to confirm our conclusions.”

 

         “Christie blames you for discovering that?”

 

         “No, Lee.  And if I’d simply turned over my findings to the Navy at that point, Conglomerated and Christie would have mades some apologies, paid some fines and that would have been the end of it.  Twenty-four sailors would still be dead.  But because of what I did, more people were hurt or killed.”

 

         “What did you do, Admiral?”

 

         “I’d known Anne Simon for some time.   She’d met Dirk several years after he founded Conglomerated and went to work for him.  They were living together when the Solaris incident happened.  They were an odd couple, but they were devoted to each other.  When it came to the business, he was a consummate businessman and salesman.  She understood the technical details of the product.  I reached out to Anne privately, to let her know what we’d found, and to express some bigger concerns.”

 

         “Why would you do that, Admiral, tip off the company like that?”

 

         “Because as I said, I knew Anne, I knew her values.  She was in a position to delve in and discover what had happened unlike anyone else, and before NIS could have obtained the legal authority to begin a search.”

         “Why would you ask her to do that given her relationship with Christie?”

 

         “I knew she’d want to clear him, but I also knew she’d do the right thing if she found evidence that implicated him or anyone in the company.”

 

         “I still don’t understand why you didn’t let the investigation proceed through official channels at that point.  Were you concerned about Dr. Simon being implicated too?”

 

         “No, Lee, I wasn’t.  I knew Dirk Christie had connections all through the government.  You don’t get to be that big and powerful a government contractor without them.  I knew the minute we kicked that report upstairs, before the first subpoena or search warrant got issued, the calls to Christie would begin.  By the time the investigators got into Consolidated’s records, evidence — if there was any — would be gone.  That said, in retrospect, I wish I hadn’t done what I did.”

 

         “You pitted her against Christie.”

 

         “Yes, with all the bad fallout you can imagine.  She did look and she did find proof that Christie personally altered government specs before parts were manufactured.  She made copies of the documents she found and sent them to me.”

 

         “Why copies, not the originals?”

 

         “Lee, I was playing at a game I shouldn’t have been and then I brought her in on it.  Neither of us were lawyers.”

 

         “You were trying to protect her then just like now, weren’t you?”

 

         “For god’s sake, yes, Lee.   Please stop interrupting and let me spit this out.  I turned the copies over to NIS.  As predicted, by the time they got warrants, the originals were gone.  That meant only one person could authenticate the copies in a courtroom:  Anne. 

 

         Anne was horrified to discover what Dirk had done, but she kept quiet.  He hadn’t yet figured it was she who turned over the evidence to me.  He tried to get her to leave the country with him as soon as he got word of probable indictments.  She called to tell me, trusted me to do the right thing.  I passed it on to NIS.  They arrested Christie at the gate and took Anne into protective custody.

 

         Lee, from there, things spiraled downward.   Things came out that had I known, I’d never have made the call to NIS, for Anne’s sake.  It turned out that the Treasury Department had a parallel investigation running on Dirk Christie and Consolidated for money laundering.  Christie was funneling money out of the country to Swiss Bank accounts through corporate shells.  Once they dug deep enough into Christie’s history and the shell companies, the Treasury Department concluded that the company was founded with underworld money.  Christie turns out to be the illegitimate son of Ronnie Scamorza.”

 

         “Holy shit.”

 

         “Holy shit is right, the mob was the face behind the biggest U.S. military contractor.   Then it got worse, Lee.  Investigators also discovered that a number of these wire transfers occurred shortly after calls between Dirk Christie’s personal and office phone numbers and the People’s Republic Embassy in Hong Kong.”

 

         “Are you saying Christie was in bed with the PR?  That would be grounds for charges of treason.  Surely I would have heard about that, Admiral, but I never did.”

 

         “No, you didn’t, Lee.  That was too much scandal, too much embarrassment, for the government to put up evidence of Consolidated’s mob dealings and working with the enemy!   And there were still billions of dollars tied up in existing work with Consolidated, work that if not completed would set back programs by years.  The decision at that point was to limit the damage.  The government wanted to oust Christie and seize the company with the minimum public exposure to the truth.”

 

         “So no treason charges, no money laundering charges?”

 

         “No, the truth is the government hoped Christie would agree to plead to lesser charges.”

 

         “Did he?  I don’t remember news of a trial.”

 

         “Not before trial, he didn’t.  Then came an attempt on Anne’s life on the courthouse steps on the day her testimony was to begin.  The U.S. Marshal protecting her was killed.  Anne was wounded in the shoulder.  She insisted on testifying despite her wound.  After some first aid was administered, the judge allowed it.  He didn’t tell the jury what had happened specifically and he warned the jury to make no conclusions about her injury.  They had to know, however.  Everyone in the courthouse knew by then.  If she didn’t testify then, she might never get another chance.  After she was released as a witness, she was entered into the Witness Protection Program.  I haven’t seen her since.”

 

         “So Christie has tried to kill her once before.”

 

         “I think it may have been the Scamorzas trying to protect their financial interest and Christie, rather than Christie himself.  Christie had an ace up his sleeve that he hadn’t yet played.”

 

         “What kind?”

 

         “His defense was to put the blame for the bad parts on Anne.”

 

         “She certainly had the technical know how.  Did Christie?”

 

         “No, not without help.”

 

         “Is it possible that Anne did it?”

 

         “No.  Without Anne’s finding and turning over the documents, there would have been no case against Conglomerated for anything more than negligence.  Anne also warned us about the windows.”

 

         “Three years after the trial.”

 

         “The letter was dated days after the trial when she was already in the hands of the Witness Protection Program.  She explained she didn’t remember Christie’s questions about the herculite until then and the focus at the time was on what Consolidated was producing, not subbing out.”

 

         “But she didn’t mail it then, did she?”

 

         “Lee, so much was going on, she probably forgot to mail it or couldn’t do it while the Witness Protection Program was supervising her so actively.  Why would she have forwarded it now if it implicates her?  No one forced her too.”

 

         “Maybe her conscience did.”

 

         “Lee, do you really believe that after you met her, spent time with her?”

 

         “No, not really, but the questions have to be asked.”

 

         “Trust me, they were asked.  The government just couldn’t afford the embarrassment of bringing the full case against Christie.”

 

         “I suppose, but I still have one more unanswered question, Admiral.  Why do you keep a file on Dr. Anne Simon in the N-R drawer of your filing cabinet?”

 

         Nelson gulped some air and turned pale.  “I don’t suppose you’ll accept bad filing skills as an answer?”

 

        

        

 

        

Chapter 9 - Keeping Secrets

 

         Admiral Nelson plopped into a chair.  He looked defeated.

 

         “Never mind, Admiral.  It’s not important.”  Lee poured a glass of water and handed it to Nelson.  While Nelson gulped the entire glass, Lee answered a knock at the door by the Lieutenant.  

 

         “The chopper is here, so I guess I’ll get going, Admiral.”

 

         “Sit down, Lee.  The truth is going to come out sooner or later.”

 

         “Admiral, you don’t owe me any explanations about your private life.”

 

         “What exactly was that brain of yours thinking about Anne and me, Lee?”

 

         “I’m a little embarrassed to say, now.  When you opened the ’N-R’ drawer, I started to think ‘N’ for Nelson, like maybe an illegitimate daughter?  Or more remotely maybe an impulsive Mia Farrow-Frank Sinatra type wedding?”

 

         “No, not even close, Lee.  It was under the “R”.  Anne Simon was born Anne Rutenberg.  Her name changed when she was adopted by relatives.”

 

         “She’s related to Erving & Rose Rutenberg?”

 

         “She was their daughter, Lee.  They were railroaded, victims of the time.”

         “The communist witch hunts of the fifties?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “And no one in the government knew Erving & Rose Rutenberg’s daughter was the principal scientist overseeing government projects at Conglomerated?  No one did background checks?” Lee asked.

 

         “On what?  A name change at the age of 7?  There was nothing to find.  Computerization was in its infancy.”   

 

         “Unless I’m missing the mark, Admiral, I’m guessing the government learned it during the investigation and began to suspect her involvement on the basis of her family name?”

 

         “Well, there was the small matter that she was listed as a joint owner on several of the Swiss bank account that Christie opened.  The son of a bitch had to know how that would look if her relationship to the Rutenbergs was discovered.  As it was discovered.  Had the Solaris not been such a tragedy, had only one or two died, I think the prosecutor would have let it go with a slap on the wrist.  He knew the potential for a trial to turn into a circus.”

 

         “Right, mobsters and the daughter whose parents were convicted of treason were running one of the military’s largest contractors.”

 

         “Yes, Lee, that’s why the government put its main focus on obtaining a conviction that would suffice to divest Christie of Consolidated Industries.”

 

         “That was probably easier than redoing all those contracts.”

 

         “It didn’t behoove Christie to bring up the mob connections either.  It could only have made his life worse with additional indictments.”

 

         “And the treason angle, Admiral?”

 

         “His lawyers might have played it full barrel as Anne following in the apparent family tradition, but there were pitfalls in such an approach.  Anne had verifiable alibis for when most of the calls between Christie’s office and the People’s Republic were made, and there was no doubt that Christie himself had opened the Swiss bank accounts that the People’s Republic appeared to have funded.  Christie’s lawyers started to mention Anne’s relationship to unnamed notorious traitors in opening statement, but the judge immediately shut it down before they said the name.  He warned Christie’s lawyers against repeating it unless they planned to present an actual defense related to it.  After that, Christie’s lawyers appeared to be setting the stage to impeach Anne’s testimony by claiming her to be a woman scorned and seeking revenge.”

 

         “Scorned how?  Revenge for what?”

 

         “Funny, I don’t really remember their promises about it.  The assertions seemed so silly to me at the time and in the end, things veered so bizarrely off course, they were never fleshed out.”

 

         “What do you mean?”

 

         “Lee, when Anne was shot on the courthouse steps, the entire trial changed course.  Christie was visibly shaken by her shooting.  Immediately after Anne testified, Christie entered into a plea agreement for seven years of jail time and forfeiting Consolidated Industries, in which he held a controlling interest.”

 

         “So the Rutenberg connection was never exposed to the public?”

 

         “No.  I suspect that neither the woman scorned nor the traitor defense seemed quite so strong with the prime witness bleeding from a gunshot wound while testifying.”

        

         “So that still leaves one burning question, Admiral.  It’s up to you if you want to answer it.  I’ll respect your decision.”

 

         “Ask away.”

 

         “Why is Anne’s folder in your personal filing cabinet if all she ever was to you was a prospective employee?”

 

         “I knew her parents, knew them well.  Brilliant scientists, both of them.  Her mother, Rose,” Nelson’s hand clamped into a tight fist, “it just ended so tragically, for all of them.  I . . . I made a promise.”

 

         “What kind of a promise?”

 

         “To look after Anne.”

 

         “You made this promise to her mother?”

 

         “Dammit, Lee.  You won’t let go until you know everything, will you?”

 

         “Could it matter to whatever is unfolding now, Admiral?”

 

         “I . . . I don’t know.  It’s possible.”  Nelson lit a fresh cigarette.  “You might as well have it, I guess.”  He dragged slowly and exhaled equally slowly.  “I met Rose and Erving at graduate school, before they were married.  I fell hard for Rose, but she only had eyes for Erving.    After school, we didn’t see each other often, although she and I kept up a correspondence for several years, saw each other at conferences.  Erving had the courage to speak up for his beliefs, his concerns about our government’s efforts to build up a nuclear stockpile.  It wasn’t well-received, not with the Cold War playing out.  Certain higher ups set out to discredit and ruin him.  He didn’t have a chance and the sons of bitches took her down with him.  I offered to help any way I could.  I didn’t believe the charges against him, and certainly not against her.  In the end, I’m embarrassed to say that the government, my government, ruined that family.  All I could do was promise Rose that I’d watch over Anne.”

 

         “How?”

 

         “I didn’t know what I meant at the time, but I would have done anything within reason.   During the trial, Anne went to live with an aunt and uncle in Connecticut.”

 

         “Her father was executed and the mother was on death row, as I recall.”

 

         “Yes, but she committed suicide after Erving’s execution.”

 

         “So did you help Anne?”

 

         “I called.  I wrote.  I visited.  I sent money to help with her upbringing, her education. Later, I arranged for her entry into Annapolis.”

 

         “She went to the Academy?”

 

         “No, that was a misplay on my part.”

 

         “Trying to wedge the daughter of two notorious spies into the Academy?  What the hell were you thinking?”

 

         “I knew how much she had to offer.  Lee, I met with her into her teens, I can’t tell you how impressed I was with her mind.”

 

         “But the Navy?  MIT, I can see.”

 

         “Lee, how did you know?”

 

         “I didn’t.”

 

         “You know me.  I get enthusiastic.  I wanted her to come work with me.  That seemed the best path.”

 

         “Oh, Admiral,” Lee shook his head.

 

         “The more I pushed, the more she resisted.  The colleges were falling all over themselves to recruit her.  She didn’t need a dime from me.   Nevertheless, I tried to keep in touch through the years.  I thought that once I left the Navy and established the Institute, she might be more approachable.”

 

         “Didn’t work out well, huh?”

 

         “She’d met Christie by then.  He played her beautifully, and he had the tools that I didn’t.”

 

         “Like?”

 

         “Everything I wasn’t.  He was young, handsome, charming.”  He paused.  “And patient.”

 

         “She rejected you, but you kept letting her know the door was open.”

 

         “In the end, I think I pushed her further into his clutches.”

 

         “You have been known to come on a little strong,” Lee smiled.

 

         “And I pushed her hard again, when I persuaded her to investigate the Solaris incident.  She did the right thing, at such a high cost too.  That’s one reason Christie bears a grudge against me.   For getting Anne to turn on him.  For years of trying to get Anne away from him -- for the work, Lee, the work.  And for the fact that I ended up owning his creation, Consolidated Industries.”

 

         “You what?”

 

         “When Dirk Christie forfeited the company, the government auctioned it off privately.   It was done rather quietly and quickly, given so many critical government contracts were at stake.  With backing from the government, I -- well a corporate form of me -- purchased Conglomerated.  I’ve had little to do with the day to day operations, as you might guess, but it was important to stabilize the company to keep our armed forces properly outfitted.  The ownership was not meant to be public ever, but eventually Christie learned of it.”

        

         “Okay, I suppose that losing a billion dollar company might give a man a grudge, especially if he lost it to a man who kept trying to steal his girlfriend too.”

 

         “For her mind, Lee!”

 

         “Maybe he didn’t care which part you wanted?”

 

          A knock at the door interrupted them. 

 

         “We need to head up to the conference room shortly, Admiral Nelson.”

 

         “I’ll be out in a minute.”

 

         “All right, so I take the chopper and you’ll be out later?”

 

         “Do your best to secure the premises.  You and Kowalski should collect her notes and journals.  Send them back with Sharkey.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “Just in case there’s anything useful there.”

 

         “What could Christie possibly do with her notes, Admiral?”

 

         “Probably nothing.  There’s really no way to know without speaking to Anne.  It’s just precautionary.”

 

         “Well, I hope you get there fast, because there are notes on every magazine and in every book!”

 

         “Focus on notepads and journals, Lee.  You’ve got an engineering degree or two that should help you with that.”

 

         “And what about poor Kowalski?”

 

         “Oh, just go already.  Unless you want to talk to the Joint Chiefs about whatever mess is brewing.”

 

         “I’m out of here.”

 

         “Lee, stay in close touch via shortwave.  If Anne should show up . . .”

 

         “I know,” Lee said as he turned toward the door and opened it.

 

         “Don’t take any chances with Christie.  Shoot to kill, Lee.  He has no regard for your life.”

 

         “We’ve never met, so I assume you mean because of his general disregard of life from the incident on the Solaris or his sabotaging the herculite specs?”

 

         “No, Lee.  I mean he has no regard for you, personally.”

 

         “Admiral, you must come now,” the waiting driver insisted.

 

         “I’ll have to explain later, Lee.”     

 

Chapter 10 - Danger Awaits

 

 

         A navy chopper dropped Lee off on the flat lawn behind Anne Katherine Rutenberg’s (now Simon’s) little salt box house by the sea.  Lee easily picked the lock to the house with some extra tools of his own that he brought “in case.”  He confirmed the house’s emptiness before positioning the shortwave in the living room.  Then he set to gathering notes and journals of Kate.  Kowalski and Sharkey arrived an hour later; Sharkey stayed with the Flying Sub. 

 

         “Hey, Captain.  Brought a couple of presents,” Kowalksi smiled as he delivered two high-powered automatic rifles and a handheld radio for communicating with FS-1.

 

         “Good to see you, Ski.  I’ve gathered a few piles of journals and books to take back.  Let’s get them aboard FS1.”

 

         “Sorry, sir, Doc said you weren’t to take stairs.  I’ll take care of it.”

 

         “He never said that to me.”

 

         Kowalski smiled.  “He knows you won’t listen.”

 

         “Guess I’ll go feed the chickens then, unless the doctor forbade that too.”

 

         “No, sir, I don’t remember any orders involving chickens.”

 

         Lee set off to do as he said, plus recover the journals and notebooks he’d seen in the barn.  The chickens nipped at his heels as he approached the barn, hungry for the diet of feed they’d become used to and favored over hunting for food.  He spread out the food to minimize competition before he turned to collecting the journals.  He couldn’t help but wonder what more the Admiral knew or suspected.  As much as he’d been told, Lee had so many questions still.   He didn’t even notice Kowalski’s entry into the barn right away. 

        

         “I’ll just take those off your hands and be right back for the rest, Skipper.”

 

         “Say hello to Sharkey for me.”

 

         Lee followed Kowalski to the top of the steps to wait.  He glanced down at the water where his sailboat now sat at the bottom, a small bit of the mast protruding from the water, a lame headstone for a beautiful lady.  The thought sent chills through Lee.  No, that wasn’t what sent chills.  It was the long cigarette boat near the mouth of the cove with a man on deck hailing in the direction of Kowalski, no, he was aiming.  “Kowalski, get down!”  Lee was too late.  Lee saw Kowalski spin and fall towards FS1.  Lee didn’t have a chance to see more as rifle fire sprayed his way and he hit the deck.  A few seconds later, the reports ended.  Lee inched forward on his belly to look for the boat.  He saw it retreating into the bay, throwing a large wake.

 

         He radioed FS1.  “Crane to FS1, report.”

 

         “Ski’s aboard, sir.  He’s taken a slug in the shoulder.”

 

         “Get him to the closest hospital and report back.”

 

         “Aye, aye, Skipper.”

 

         “Take care of that boat on your way out if you can.  I don’t care if you chip the paint, either.”

 

         “With pleasure, Skipper,” Sharkey said.

 

         Lee headed up to the house where he’d stashed the shortwave.  “Admiral, this is Crane.  Come in.” 

 

         “Yes, Lee.”

 

         “A sniper on a boat just took out Kowalski.”

 

         “I heard over the radio.  A medivac will meet FS1 at Brunswick.”

 

         Something was off in the Admiral’s voice.  It was strangely stiff.

 

         “How about some back up for me, Sir?”

 

         “Hole up in the house for now, Lee.  We’ll get help out there as soon as possible.”

 

         “Admiral, what’s going on?”

 

         “I . . . Shoot first and ask . . .”  The transmission was interrupted before the Admiral could finish.

 

         Lee returned to the house.  He took up a position upstairs, taking the short wave radio with him.  He moved between the bedrooms to get as close to a 360 degree view as possible.  When he entered the guest room, this time without a mission to pull journals, his eyes caught the business card he’d left on the dresser face-up, untouched he thought, as was the room itself since he’d left it.  It appeared that Kate had yet to see his note.

 

 

Chapter 11 - A Belly Full

 

         Chip and Will poked in and out of stores, restaurants and gas stations in Ellsworth.  They’d made no progress finding traces of Anne Simon.  They were hampered by the lack of a current picture of her as well as the reticence of the locals to talk.  The only thing working in their favor was believing her German Shepard was with her.  

 

         Chip was anticipating his second lobster roll of the day, the doctor having split off from him citing cholesterol concerns, when he found the first clue.   Chip was in line petting a friendly unleashed German shepherd when his turn to order arrived. 

 

         “What’ll ya have?”

 

         “One lobster roll.”

 

         “Good looking dog.  I have a shepherd too.  Nothing for her?”

 

         “She’s not my dog, so not on my tab.  Hey, you haven’t by chance seen a woman with a shepherd come through here in the last day or two?”

 

         “Why do you want to know?”

 

         “She’s a friend.  Her phone line’s still down from the storm and I was wondering if she had managed to get out of her house yet.”

 

         “What’s the name of the dog?”

 

         “Huh?”

 

         “If she’s a friend, you must know the dog’s name.”

 

         “It’s Buster.  He’s a big boy, every part of him,” Chip winked.

 

         “She ate here earlier today.  And she did buy a roll for the dog.”

 

         “Oh good, that’s a relief that she’s okay.”

 

         “She must not have power yet, though.  I saw a generator in her wagon.  I asked her where she found one because when I went to Reny’s the other day, they said it’d be at least a few days before any shipments came in.  She said it was a return of a broken one.  Maybe she’s waiting on you to help her fix it?”

 

         “I think I will go see if she is.  Tell you what, let me get another roll -- just in case Buster’s hungry.”

 

         Chip quickly downed his roll before he headed back to rendezvous with the doctor.  “She’s going back or she already went back.  She bought a generator.  A broken one.”

 

         “So what should we do?”

 

         “First, I’m going to call the Admiral with the news.”

 

         The Admiral didn’t answer his DynaTAC number, so Chip left a message.   “We’re a couple of hours behind her, unless she stopped again.  We’re going to head up towards her place in case Lee needs a hand.”

 

         “Don’t you think we should wait to hear from the Admiral?” Dr. Jamieson asked after Chip hung up.

 

         “I think he’ll be okay if we post up in the town by her house.  We can watch the roads for visitors and be ready if we’re needed.”

 

         “I suppose I’ll come along just in case someone needs good cheer.”

 

         “Or a bandaid,” Chip smiled.

 

         “Or some antacid, my voracious young friend.”

 

         Once in the little town, they stopped at the town’s sole store, which was combined with a snack shop,gas station and post office. 

 

         “Chip, don’t tell me you’re going to eat again.  Just because the sign says best clam chowder in Maine doesn’t mean you have to try it.”

 

         “Well, that wasn’t my only reason for stopping here, Doc.  This is where that Gurney fellow is.  I thought it might be a good idea to talk to him in person.”

 

         “Actually, clam chowder does sound good.  These bones are too used to Southern California weather now.  Maine’s chilly.”

 

         After ordering, Chip attempted to gain Mr. Gurney’s ear.  After he pulled out his Institute ID, his Naval ID, his driver’s license and gave Mr. Gurney a recitation of what Chip had learned that Mr. Gurney had told an investigator earlier and Mr. Gurney remembered Lee mentioned someone named “Chip," Mr. Gurney finally consented to answer some questions.

 

         “Anybody would have to pass by my store to get to her place, but obviously I can’t see ‘em all when I’m busy.”

 

         “I take it that you haven’t seen her car today?”

 

         “No, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t go by.”

 

         “Mind if we sit here and watch a while?”

 

         “Suit yourself, but I think you folks are going about this all wrong.   If I were watching for her, or somebody following her, I’d post up a little over four miles up the road, just after the cut through on the right that leads up her way.  Anybody turns that way is looking for trouble.”

 

         Chip pulled out a twenty and handed it to Mr. Gurney.

 

         “You’re not paying me for information, son?”

 

         “No, for the chowder.  Best I’ve had in Maine.  I’d like some more to go.”

 

         “Sure thing.  You Navy boys will take good care of Miss Kate if she comes back, promise?”

 

         “Mr. Gurney, there’s no one I’d rather have protecting my back than Admiral Nelson and Commander Crane.  She’ll be in good hands, I promise.”

 

         Five minutes later, Chip and Will had posted up just beyond the cut off.  Forty-five minutes later, Chip’s belly felt empty enough to eat the last lobster roll and slurp some more clam chowder as Doc shook his head in horror.  An hour later, Anne’s Saab Wagon turned off.  “Guess we know she’s alive now.  Would you mind calling the Admiral on the DynaTAC to let him know, Doc?”

 

         “Still no answer.”

 

         “Leave another message, Doc.  I hope he’s not out of juice.  We will be soon.  Someday they’ll make these phones with better batteries.”

 

         “Smaller too, I hope.”

 

         “I expect so.  Hey, do you hear that?”

 

         “Hear what?”

 

         “Car coming.  Guess we’ll know which way in a few seconds.”

 

         A sedan passed their car moments later.   “Heading to Canada, I guess,” Doc said.

 

         “Looks that way.  Do me a favor though, Doc, let’s hop out of the car for a minute.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “Just in case,” Chip said.  “Towards the woods, not the road.”

 

         Chip got out first.  Doc followed him out by sliding toward the driver’s door.  They barely got off the road bed behind a stand of dense shrubs when they heard an engine revving again.  “Stay low, Doc.”

 

         A barrage of gun shots rang out.  The passing car could then be heard and seen kicking up gravel as it turned onto the unpaved road.

 

         “You okay, Doc?”

 

         “A little shaken, if you must know, Chip.  I wasn’t expecting that.  Why were you?”

 

         “Just seemed prudent.  Damn,” Chip said as he saw the car.  Glass was strewn everywhere and a walk around confirmed two shot out tires.

 

         “It would seem prudent to call the auto club now, wouldn’t it?” Doc said.

 

         “Right, that might take a few hours.”

 

         “So which way do we start walking?”

 

         “I don’t know the exact path to her house, Doc, and we don’t have much firepower to protect ourselves, so I’m thinking back to town.  I’ll try to let the Admiral know what’s happened.”

 

         They began to walk down the road on the right side so they could see incoming traffic and hop off into the far woods if needed.   Two minutes later, a loud explosion stalled them in their tracks.

                  

Chapter 12 - Buster’s Last Stand

        

         Two miles away, the woman Lee knew as Kate cautiously drove toward her home, her shepherd Buster by her side.   It seemed to her that since she’d passed through town, a car had followed her, keeping at a considerable distance to avoid being obvious.  She’d know soon, however.  In nearly three years, no one had ever followed her as she took the final turn off toward her home.

 

         The car continued to shadow her at a distance.  More disturbingly, ahead of her a car sat parked sideways in the center of the roadway, blocking the road.  When she could see no passengers, she decided.  She pointed her car towards the rear of the vehicle and accelerated, reminding herself that no matter what followed, keep pedal to the metal.  The impact jerked her backwards, then as the car broke forward free of the obstacle, she rebounded forwarded into the steering wheel.  All the while, she pressed her foot hard on the accelerator.   She hurt, but she dare not stop.  Loud popping sounds followed her down the road for a brief while, then ceased. 

 

         A mile down the road, her car began to fail.  A rear tire had gone flat.  Her best option required driving skills she wasn’t sure she possessed, but she had to try.  As she neared the single lane wooden bridge over the first pass of Robber’s Creek, she moved to the center of the road, slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel hard.  She rued never practicing 180s and 360s as other kids had when learning to drive.  All she had on her side was a knowledge of physics.  She hoped it would work.  The rear tires caught the raised lip of the bridge first, stalling the turn from going much further, but giving enough play that the car turned sideways and stuck.  Although she was belted in, her left shoulder pounded into the door.  Uncertain of how badly she was hurt from the first collision or this maneuver, she moved gingerly toward the opposite door, around Buster, and opened it.  “Out,” she commanded.  

 

         Kate remained behind, gathering herself while pondering how to get to the trunk.  She’d laid in supplies for a stand at the house, including a generator, gas, food and a self-loading rifle.  If she could have only stopped earlier, or had dared to, she might have removed the rifle and ammunition before her maneuver.  Just then, with an aching shoulder and the trunk hanging over the edge of the old wooden bridge, it was beyond her ability to get there, and even if possible, would take too much time.  Instead, she pushed in the cigarette lighter, grabbed the towel on Buster’s seat, and waited a very long few seconds.  She applied the lighter to the towel, and held it there until it began to smolder and burn.  She opened the gas cap and stuck the non-burning end of the towel into the hole leaving plenty of air space for combustion to occur before she hurried into the woods.

 

         Kate walked down the road with Buster by her side.  Through the woods was a far shorter way to the house than the cow path that the road was.  As she was about to enter the woods, the explosion of the car startled her, even though she expected and planned it.   Gunfire in her direction followed.  Buster ran toward the sound, barking hostilely.  Kate commanded him to come back, but he was off too far, too fast.  More shots rang out.  Buster’s barking stopped.

 

         Kate’s breath hitched a moment, then she pushed herself to run forward anyway.  Buster was a good dog.  He did what he’d been trained to do:  protect her at any cost.  Kate just didn’t want him too.  She didn’t want any one or any creature hurt protecting her ever again.  She could still see the U.S. Marshal bleeding on the courthouse steps three years ago.  Better it should be her.  It was her actions, her mistakes, that brought things to a head, after all.   She considered simply stopping where she was, emerging and surrendering, but an instinct for self-preservation pushed her forward.  She’d put up a last stand at home, she and the shotgun she’d never actually fired.    

 

 

Chapter 13 - A Knight Awaits

 

 

         Lee heard an explosion and could only wonder what it might be.  Minutes later, standing watch in the front bedroom, he spied Kate through his rifle sight.  He stayed in position until after he heard her enter and bolt the door.  Only when he was certain there was no one approaching did he steal down the steps. 

 

         He found her in the kitchen as she splashed water over her face.  With his free hand, he grabbed a towel from the refrigerator door handle.

 

         “This might help,” he said. 

 

         She froze in place.

 

         “Sorry to startle you.”

 

         “Lee, is that you?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         She turned and saw the weapon hanging slackly in his hand.  “I . . . why . . . who?” she stuttered. 

 

         A small stream of blood trickled from her temple into her eye.  Lee pressed the towel to it obscuring her face.

 

         “You didn’t go to the safe house, so the safe house came to you.”

 

         “I don’t understand.”

 

         “I’ll explain soon, but I’d rather do it upstairs if you can make it,” Lee said.

 

         “I’m fine.”

 

         “Yes, I’m sure.  I’ve been fine before too.” 

 

         “It’s just a bump,” Kate reassured.

 

         “How many other bumps are there?”

 

         “Nothing major.”

 

         “Where’s your car?”

 

         “Blocking the bridge to the road.  If there still is a bridge to the road.  I tried to blow it up.”

 

         “Smart.”

 

         “Bought me a few minutes, that’s all.”

 

         “Probably more than that since they won’t know the woods.  Where’s Buster?”

 

         She shook her head, eyes downcast.

 

         “You’ll fill me in more upstairs.”

 

         She accompanied him up to the bedroom.

 

         “Kate, lie down and rest a minute.  Keep the towel there.”

 

         “Why are you here?  Who are you?  Without the beard, you look different.  Familiar.”

 

         “You didn’t see the card I left, did you?”

 

         “No, after I dropped you off, I came home, did what I had to, packed and left.”

 

         “Why didn’t you go to the safe house, Kate?”

 

         “I intended to, but I couldn’t.  I . . . I just needed this to be over.”

 

         “Even if it means Christie kills you?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “Why?” Lee asked.

 

         “Because I’ve been living like I’ve been dead for nearly three years now.  I couldn’t do it any more.”

 

         “What changed?”

 

         “A couple of days with a shipwrecked sailor?”

 

         Lee arched his eyebrows.

 

         “Don’t take it personally.  You just reminded me what it felt like to be alive.  Hermit lost its appeal.”

 

         “I’m wounded.”

 

         “Lee, you’ll be dead if you stay here much longer.   You need to get the hell out of here.   I didn’t see a car.  How did you get here?”

 

         “I dropped in from the sky.”

 

         “Then go back that way.  Otherwise, take the daysailer.”

 

         “Chopper’s gone, so I can’t go back up just now, and earlier there was a boat out there with a sniper on it earlier.”

 

         “Damn,” Kate said.

 

         “This is a different side of you than I’ve seen.”

 

         “You too, Lee.  So who the heck are you?”

 

         “An officer of the United States Navy.”

 

         “Why would they put you here?  This makes no sense.”

 

         “No, I’d have to agree, but I don’t think I’m playing with all the facts, I don’t think either of us are, Kate.”

 

         “The shipwreck, that was real, wasn’t it?”

 

         “Absolutely.  Scared out of my wits real.  Well, scared enough.”

 

         “This card you left me.  Where is it?”

 

         “It was nothing important.  Just my name and number.  I hoped you’d call.”  Lee kept his eyes toward the window even as she started to rise from the bed.  The shortwave he’d brought upstairs crackled.

 

         “Captain Crane, Lee, come in.”

 

         Lee hesitated, knowing the awkward moment could no longer be avoided.

 

         Kate honed in on the sound.

 

         “Lee, it’s Nelson.  Come in please.”

 

         “Captain Crane?  Nelson?” Kate repeated and threw the towel off her head.  “Tell me that Nelson isn’t involved in this!”

 

         “Admiral, this isn’t a great time.  Is this urgent?”

 

         “Yes, Lee.  Any sign of Anne yet?”

 

         “She’s here, Admiral.”

 

         “Is she all right?”

 

         “A little banged up, but yes.  Can you pick us up?”

 

         “Lee, I need to apologize to you, to both of you.  I can’t do that, not yet.”

 

         “What do you mean?”

 

         “There’s more at stake here.”

 

         “Explain that please,” Lee said.

 

         “There’s a sub lying off the coast of Canada.”

 

         “An unfriendly?”

 

         “Yes.  It appears to be waiting for something, Lee.”

 

         “Or someone?”

 

         “We think so.”

 

         “Are you telling me that Christie and his associates are coming through Maine to meet a sub?  They could have sailed out to international waters from anywhere!”

 

         “No, Lee, I’m not that naive.  Christie wants to hurt Anne first.”

 

         “But what would the People’s Republic want with Christie?  What could he have to offer them after three years in jail?”

 

         “The forger who’s with him could do substantial damage with his skills.  I’m not sure what else Christie has to offer, but obviously I’m very concerned now that I’ve exposed you this way.”

 

         “Then get a chopper in here and get us the hell out of here.”

 

         “Lee, God help us all, but my hands are tied.  If I had understood, I would never have let you go in.  I was used, Lee.  We all were.”

 

         “So what are we supposed to do now?”

 

         “The Navy wants to draw the sub closer.  It is violating Canadian waters, but Canada won’t act.”

 

         “What about us, Kate and me?”

 

         “Lee, they want you to cooperate with Christie.  Don’t put up too much of a fight.  Make sure he knows who you are.  It’s not in Christie’s interests to seriously hurt you.  Just go with him.”

 

         “The hell I will!”

 

         “Son, I know the thought of being taken aboard a People’s Republic sub is horrifying after what you went through before at their hands.  We will not let it come to that, I promise.   I assure you that every measure possible is being taken to assure that you never board that sub.”

 

         “Is Sharkey out there somewhere?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “I don’t like it, Admiral.”

 

         “I don’t either.  I’m so sorry I’ve put you in this position.   Tell Anne, oh lord, words fail me.  I’ve let her down again.  I shouldn’t have trusted . . .”  Nelson’s last words were cut off.

 

         Lee looked up at Kate.  “Do you understand what’s going on here?”

 

         “I don’t know details, because I only spoke to Nelson briefly during the trial.  He said the People’s Republic had nearly destroyed Seaview before the trial.  He said he believed Dirk had something to do with it, and that he would pursue Dirk to the grave to prove it.”

 

         “Jesus, it must have been when Christie was being held for trial that I was kidnapped and brainwashed by the People’s Republic.   That’s why I couldn’t remember anything about the trial.  I spent two months getting deprogrammed and psychoanalyzed before the Navy would clear me to return to Seaview.”

 

         “I’m so sorry, Lee.”

 

         “But Christie didn’t know me, so I don’t see how he could have set that up?”

 

         “Don’t underestimate Dirk.  He has a lot of contacts out there.  He was desperate and he would do anything to get at Nelson.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “They have a long history of antagonism.”

 

         “Does it have anything to do with the relationship between you and Nelson?”

 

         “There is no relationship, other than Nelson didn’t like Dirk, never trusted him and Dirk was annoyed that Nelson kept insinuating himself trying to pull me away from Dirk and his business.”

 

         “Jealousy was Christie’s motive?”

 

         “No, Lee, it was about protecting what was Dirk’s, what he perceived was his.  I think revenge is more apt a description.”

 

         “Nelson took you from Christie by getting you to testify against him.  Then Christie tried to take me from Nelson, to have me destroy Nelson and the boat?” Lee asked.

 

         Kate shrugged.  “Nelson believes whatever it was that happened was initiated by Dirk.  Lee, I’m sorry.  You shouldn’t be here.  Nelson shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess.  You must get out.  I can show you a path that leads away from here.  They won’t find you if I stay here.  Please.”

 

         “I can’t do that, Kate.  I won’t.”

 

         “I’m begging you, Lee, please.”

 

         “I’m not sacrificing you to keep myself safe.”

 

         “You don’t understand, Lee, I think you being here is putting me at far greater risk.”

 

         “How?”

 

         “If Dirk has you to give to the enemy, what does he need or want with me?  You have access to recent classified material, defense secrets.  I’m three years plus out of the loop.  I’m a replaceable scientist.  I’m irrelevant.  No, not irrelevant.  Just dead.  Nelson knows.  He said as much.  You go with them, he’ll protect you.  For Anne, there are no words.” 

 

         “Oh, Jesus.”  Lee pounded a fist on the bed.  “Listen to me Kate, nothing you can say will convince me that you really are safer if I go.  I’m trained to fight, to kill if necessary.  I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe.”

 

         Kate broke down in tears.  “I don’t want to be protected like that ever again.  A marshal left behind a widow and three children so I could live in isolation in the woods for the rest of my days.  It was a shitty trade.  Buster made a shitty trade.”

 

         “We get out of this together or not at all.”

 

         “Those weren’t your orders, Captain.”

 

         “I know the Admiral a little better than you, Kate.  The only direct order he has given me is to protect you.  The rest was noise.  He said things the way he did on purpose.  Trust me, the man knows how to use the word ‘order’ when he means it.”

 

         “Very noble, Lee, but don’t bother.  This fiasco ultimately is my fault.  If I had gone to the safe house, this wouldn’t be happening this way.”

 

         “No, Kate.  Why does Christie know you didn’t go to the safe house?  Why is he coming here?”

 

         Kate shrugged.  “He must have information from somewhere.”

 

         “From someone, you mean, someone inside the government.  There’s an unseen hand acting here.  Whether you went to the safe house or not, you were in danger.   It has to be the same people who manipulated Nelson into intervening.  It made no sense that the Justice Department would turn this over to the Navy . . . not  . . . not unless they had advance information about Christie’s intentions.”

 

         “Lee, I saw movement out there.”

 

         “Are you comfortable firing a rifle?”

 

         “I know how to, but I haven’t fired a gun since I was at summer camp. . . . when I was twelve.”

 

         “I’ll show you.  You’ll see, we have a chance to get out of this.  No one has to play willing pawn here.”  Lee quickly showed Kate what to do.  “I’ll take this window.  You take the guest room.  Fire at anything that moves, as many times as you need.  We have plenty of clips.”

 

         What they didn’t have was a 360 degree view.  Lee got a shot quite close to one man, but it didn’t take the target long to realize the source and circle off.  Lee thought he clipped another, but he couldn’t be certain.  He ran to the other room to check with Kate. 

 

         “Anything?”

 

         “I shot at something in the tree line, but I don’t think I hit anything,” Kate said.

 

         “I’m going to post up by the top of the stairs.  They’re going to have to try to come in sooner or later.”

 

         “Lee, what if they just set the place on fire?”

 

         “No, I think the Admiral had that part right.  They want hostages.  Just keep circulating between rooms and fire at any movement.”

 

         Kate nodded.  Lee leaned in and kissed her.  “I’ll get us out of this somehow, I swear.”

 

         “I have an idea, Lee.”

 

         “What is it?”

 

         “I’ll show you.  I have to run downstairs first.  I’ll be right back.”

 

         Lee moved to block the stairwell.  “No, Ma’am.  I’m not falling for that trick.”

 

         “This is my mess.  I can walk right out that door and end this.  Dirk doesn’t have to know you’re here, let alone who you are.  Nelson was nuts if he thinks Dirk wouldn’t hurt you knowing that.”

 

         “Kate, I came here to protect you and I will do that.  I understood there would be risks and I’m fully trained and capable of tackling them.  To do so, I need your cooperation.” 

 

         “You were lied to.”

 

         “So were you.  Over and over.  Shush.  That’s a window being broken.  See if you can clip them before they get in.”

 

         Kate complied, but had no angle to make that shot work.  As she leaned out the window to try to rectify that, a shot exploded into the shutter nearby.  She pulled back inside.

 

         “Are you all right?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “How many did you see?”

 

         “At least two,” she panted, shaken.

 

         Lee began to spray fire down the stairs.  He fired blindly, keeping as little of his body exposed as possible.  It was not a winning strategy and he knew it.  He figured four men were there, at minimum, probably with at least one posted outside to make sure they didn’t get out via window.  Staying upstairs had given them a longer line of vision, but downstairs probably would have given them a better territory from which to defend once the enemy tried to enter.  Anyway Lee cut it, defending four sides of a house with two people wasn’t ideal.

 

         Lee’s next thought ended abruptly.  He dropped the rifle from his hand as a bullet swept across the top side of his firing hand.  “Kate, I need help,” he hollered and pulled his body back around the edge of the wall.  He reached into his holster for his sidearm, but he couldn’t grip his hand around it.   “Take my sidearm.  Fire at anyone who tries to come up.” 

 

         Kate took the weapon as Lee pulled a handkerchief from his left pocket and pressed it on his bleeding right hand.  

 

         “Dirk, are you there?” she yelled.

 

         “Yes, Anne.”

 

         “I’ll come down if you agree the shooting stops now and you promise to leave the marshal alone to lick his wounds.”

 

         “My love, you are always fair, even under the worst of circumstances.  I agree.”

 

         “I’m coming then.”

 

         “Not yet, dearest.  First you should send down the rifle and I’m quite sure there is a small weapon to be had as well.”

 

         Kate complied.  Lee’s eyes flashed with fury and frustration.  “Don’t.”  He reached out to hold her back, but she easily pulled free of his wounded hand.  “There’s no choice, Lee.  Stay safe.  Thanks for giving me a couple of sweet days since all this mess began.”

 

 

Chapter 14 — Sacrifices

 

         Kate walked down the steps.  She was met by three armed men.   One of the men reached out to take the weapons from her hands. 

 

         Dirk Christie then stepped forward, extending his hand toward Kate and taking hers in his.  “My, neither of us quite looks our best today, do we?” 

 

         Kate didn’t respond, even though it was true.  Dirk had physically transformed from lean to excessively muscled.  What hadn’t changed was his disarming smile.

 

         Dirk began to squeeze her hand, progressively harder, until she whimpered in pain.  “I’m so sorry, love.  You know, three years, some anger and resentment has been building.”  He let go.  “Turn around and go back up the stairs, my dear.”

 

         “You gave me your word.”

 

         “Anne, I’m a felon.  What good is my word?”

 

         She didn’t budge.  One of the men nudged his gun closer to her.

 

         “You’ll just have to shoot me here and climb over me then.”

 

         “People never understood what I saw in you, Anne.  They only saw your brains, not your feistiness.  Alas, the polishing we put on it all seems to have disappeared.  Flannel?  How drab.”

 

         “Just kill me already.”

 

         “I’ve had three years and more to imagine this moment, love.  I’ll take as much time as I want and I will direct the scene, thank you very much.  Now, go upstairs.”

 

         “You’ve lost all honor.”

 

         “I wouldn’t say that.  I’ll keep true to my original promise.   You must understand the need to secure the premises, however.”

 

         Lee listened from above and retreated further into Kate’s bedroom.   He stashed the radio in the closet out of sight.  Then he looked for the rifle Kate had left behind somewhere upstairs wondering whether even if he found it, he could shoot it left-handed.  By the time he spotted it under the window, it was too late.  Kate was being paraded into the room at gunpoint.  Lee raised his hands in surrender.

 

         “Nasty business, guns,” Dirk said as he motioned for one of the men to pick up the rifle.  “I’m so sorry, you’ve been hurt, officer, or I suppose I should say, what, marshal?”

 

         “What you say really doesn’t matter,” Lee commented.

 

         “Oh, Anne, clever Anne.   A federal marshal?   They’re a dreary lot, not like this one.  From the ring, I’d say he’s a Navy man.”

 

         “Just leave him alone, Dirk.  He has nothing to do with us.”

 

         “Your wallet, sir?”

 

         “It’d be a little hard to reach just now,” Lee explained, showing his hand.

 

         “You won’t mind if my associate retrieves it then, would you?”

 

         Lee shrugged.  The man reached into his pocket and handed the slim wallet to Dirk Christie.

 

         Christie opened it slowly as if about to relish a disclosure.  He pulled out its meager contents, letting several bills fall to the floor.  His face suggested he hadn’t found what he expected.  “Cuff him, Roger, hands to the footboard.”  Lee cooperated, the only sane choice given guns aimed at him and Kate.  His hands were cuffed between rungs of the hip height cast iron footboard of the bed.

 

         “Take a look around up here, Roger.  See if our friend has stashed some of the contents of his wallet.”

 

         “Maybe if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can help?” Lee offered.

 

         Christie backhanded him in the face with the muzzle of his pistol. 

 

         “Dirk, please.  Stop.”

 

         “Our deal was that I wouldn’t hurt the marshal.  This man is not a marshal, as you well know.”

 

         “What difference does it make, marshal or Navy?  You understood my point.”

 

         “Yes, but a man with no identification in his wallet?  That’s not a man to be trusted, now is it, Anne?”  Christie took another swipe at Lee’s cheek.  Lee deked so that contact was minimal.

 

         Roger returned shortly.  “I found this in the other room.”

 

         Christie let out a throaty laugh.  “‘I’m here for you, no matter what.’  Yes, you are Captain Crane.  Yes, I knew you from the moment I laid eyes on you.  Nelson’s golden boy.  Hah!  You can’t imagine the luck I’ve had this week, captain.  A hurricane set me free and sailed you into what shall become your worst nightmare, and an even worse one for Nelson.”  Christie brought up his pistol again, ready to swipe at Lee’s face again.

 

         Kate threw herself between Christie and Lee, reaching out in an effort to grab the pistol.  It fell to the ground.  Christie reached out for her with both hands, angrily squeezing her arms.  Her eyes closed as she cried out.  Then suddenly Christie’s grip eased.

 

         “God, I remember your smell.”  Christie nuzzled her head, inhaling deeply, reminiscing, before he grabbed her hair and held it tightly. 

 

         Lee rattled the cuffs between the iron bed’s foot rails to no avail. 

 

         “Roger, go check with Ralph about the status of our ride out of here,” Christie ordered.  Everyone in the room remained still as they waited for Roger’s return.  It wasn’t long.  He whispered in Dirk Christie’s ear.  “Stay outside with Ralph unless I call for you.  Give me those cuffs,” Christie ordered.

 

         “Sadly, for you two, we find ourselves with more time on our hands than expected.  Seems something damaged our originally planned transport and a replacement is being obtained.”  Christie breathed in deeply again, his head close to Kate’s, one hand still grasping her hair.   “How I’ve missed you, despite everything.  Can you begin to fathom how that is possible, Captain Crane, to miss someone who betrayed you?”

 

         “If I hadn’t, how many more men would have died from what you were doing?” Kate asked.

 

         Christie pulled her hair tighter.  “Yes, you held the moral high ground.   Bully for you.”  He breathed in deeply again.  “God, three years and your smell still gets to me.  I’d have been better off if I’d have been a butt-fucker like Arnold here.”  Christie released Kate and pushed her hard, back into the wall.

 

         Lee bit his tongue, knowing that arguing with Christie was not likely to make anything easier for Kate.

 

         “It’s just pheromones.”

 

         “Don’t you just love a woman who uses big words?” Christie smiled at Lee while pulling Kate by the wrist to the bed.  “Sit down, Anne and don’t move.”   He grabbed her right wrist and cuffed it to a wrought iron headboard bar behind her. 

 

         “Just tell me one thing.  Did you sabotage the windows on Seaview?” Kate asked.

 

         Christie smiled.  “Even if I answered, no one would ever hear it.”  Then Christie’s face twisted.  “Unless this place is bugged or . . . Arnold, check him. . . . Don’t panic, Captain Crane.  Unlike some of us, Arnold hasn’t gone without all these years.  Of course, he may find you a more attractive option than some of the others.”

 

         Arnold Swenson cast an angry glare at Dirk Christie.  Lee felt less concerned than he had a moment earlier.

 

         “The tempering process -- did you alter it?” Kate asked.

 

         Lee wondered what she was attempting to do, provoking Christie that way. 

 

          “There’s nothing on him,” Swenson said.

 

         “Check around the room then.”

 

         Swenson brought out the shortwave from the closet.  “Found something.  You want me to break it?”

 

         “Just hold on to it.  Maybe we’ll entertain Nelson with it later.”  Christie advanced toward Kate.   He placed his hand under her chin, lifted her face.  “You’re a handsome man, captain.  You probably can have your choice of women, each prettier than the next.  So you tell me, why a man like me, who had gorgeous women throwing themselves at me my entire life, fell for this rather plain one?”

 

         Lee didn’t like the feel of where things were headed, so he kept quiet.

 

         “When I first met Anne, I don’t think she had her hair cut for ten years.  She owned maybe three outfits, nothing but drab peasant skirts.  But her mind!  Every major player wanted her skills.   I was no different.  With a little encouragement from me, she polished up a bit.  All gone to waste now.”  Christie dropped her chin and stalked off to the bathroom.  Lee heard him rummaging through drawers.  He returned with a first aid kit and a pair of scissors.  He tossed the kit to Swenson.  “Clean him up for travel.”  Christie kept the scissors, snapping them open and shut as he approached Kate.

 

         “For God’s sake, Christie.  Where are you going with this?” Lee asked.

 

         “It’s okay, Captain Crane,” Kate said. 

 

         Christie threateningly waved the scissors in front of her face.  “I wouldn’t be so sure, Anne.  I’m not the same man anymore.  Three years in a jail cell, a man builds up a lot of resentment.”  Christie pushed her head forward and cut her hair off above the pony tail band she had worn.  He pushed the hair around playfully.  He bent down to it and sniffed.

 

         “The scent of a woman!”  Christie kissed the top of her hair.  “Talk to me, Anne.  Make me remember why I chose you.”

 

         “Because I didn’t bore you.”

 

         “So true, but tell me, Anne, tell me more.   Tell me why every time I smell you, I lose all good sense.  You know how.”

 

         Kate looked upward at the ceiling briefly, then closed her eyes.  “Your vomeronasal organ detects pheromones, lipophilic compounds in our skin and follicles that give us each signature odors.  These can produce stimulatory responses, sometimes even aphrodisiacal responses.”

 

         As Kate spoke, Christie’s hand began to move inside her shirt.  He nuzzled her neck.

 

         “Leave her alone!” Lee shouted.

 

         Christie did as Lee asked.  He got up abruptly and approached Lee, gun extended. 

 

         “What did you say, Captain?”

 

         “I said to leave her alone.”

 

         “You have another suggestion as to how I might occupy the time, seeing as your people are responsible for the delay?”  Christie smiled.  “Yes, Captain, I have no doubt that the damage to our boat was caused by your people.  However, it changes nothing.  After all, I hold the trump cards.  Maybe it’s time you fully understood that.”  Christie turned on the radio.  “Come, Captain, hail your beloved Admiral Nelson for us.”

 

         Lee shook his head in refusal. 

 

         “Very well.  I’ll do it.  Come in Nelson.  Someone wants to talk to you.”

 

         “This is Nelson.  Who is this?”

 

         Christie pressed his hand onto Lee’s newly wrapped injured hand.  Lee yelped. 

 

         “Lee, is that you?  Lee, are you all right?”

 

         “Answer him, Lee.  We wouldn’t want to worry him.”

 

         “It’s me, Admiral.”

 

         “Who hailed me?”

 

         “Christie.”

 

         “Damn.  Are you hurt?”

 

         “Not seriously.”

 

         “He means not yet, Nelson.  However, I can assure you that at the first sign of resistance, that will change.  Do you understand me?”

 

         “Christie, you’re not a big enough fool to think you can get away with this.  Walk away now before you do something you’ll regret.”

 

         “The only regret that I’ll have is not seeing your face when you realize how badly you’ve failed, how easily you were manipulated!  Imagine my delight in finding Crane here.  Yes, if it had been you, so much the better, I suppose, but still, for so much to go my way!  It must gall you so.”

 

         “Look, you don’t even have to turn yourself in.  We can work a deal.  You can go someplace without extradition.  Trade me for them.”

 

         “You are desperate, aren’t you, Nelson?”

 

         “You’re a better man than this, Christie.”

 

         “Here’s my deal, Nelson.  You don’t interfere, I don’t kill them, at least not immediately.  If you do, they die, slowly, painfully.”

 

         “You’re not a violent man, Christie, we both know that.”

 

         Christie pistol whipped Lee again. 

 

         “Ask your Captain just how true that is, Nelson.”

 

         “Lee, what’s going on?”

 

         “Tell him, Lee,” Christie mocked.

 

         “Admiral, I think Christie’s plenty capable of violence now.”

 

         “Enough chatter!  You understand my conditions.  Violate them at your own risk.”

 

         “I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth if anything happens to them, Christie.”

 

         “I look forward to it, Nelson.”  Christie flung the radio into the wall.  “Where were we?  Oh, yes, killing time whilst waiting for our ride.”

 

         “What do you intend to do with us?”  Lee asked.

 

         Christie smirked.  “I think you know quite well, Captain Crane.  Deja vu all over again, as the saying goes.  You’ll soon be visiting with your friends from the People’s Republic, permanently this time, I expect.”

 

 

Chapter 15 - Putting a Hurting On

 

        

         “What about Kate?” Lee asked.  “Are you planning to turn her over to the People’s Republic too?”

        

         “Kate?  You mean Anne, of course.  I’m not quite certain anymore.  Your presence has changed the options somewhat.”

 

         “Meaning what?”

 

         “Meaning Anne has become somewhat disposable now.  Certainly our friends could tap into her genius for their own ends as planned, but here you stand, with military secrets galore to share for minimal effort.”

 

         “Dirk, please, you can’t do that to him, not again.  Let him be.  I’ll do whatever you want,” Kate begged.

 

         “Don’t you see that I can do whatever I want already?” 

 

         “I won’t put up a fight.  He will.  I’ll make it easy for you.”

 

         “Like you always have, my love?”

 

         “Yes, I’ll go along blindly just as before.”

 

         “I did it all for us, Anne, so we could move forward.”

 

         “Right, you produced inferior parts endangering the armed forces of this country and then sold out your country to help your relationship?  Don’t you dare try to pin this on her, Christie!”  Lee shouted.

 

         “Lee, don’t,” Kate begged. 

 

         “She protests because she knows the truth, Captain Crane.  It was for our future, so we could get out from under my father and his father once and for all.”

 

         “That makes no sense.”

 

         “It makes more sense than you could possibly know.”

 

         Lee wasn’t sure he wanted to hear Christie’s ravings, but knew that buying time was in his and Kate’s best interests.  “How?”

 

         “The feds were investigating the holding companies that financed the business, our shareholders.  I knew it would all come to a crashing end soon.  So why not use that as an opportunity to break free?   That meant generating extra cash to finance our exit -- out of the country, away from my family -- and to finally be able to start my own family the way I wanted.”

 

         “I don’t get it,” Lee said.

 

         “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.  It’s funny how it all tied together so neatly.  Whatever else my family represents, they came to this country to embrace the American way of life and escape fascism.  My father and his brother both proudly served in the Navy.   Neither was pleased with my choice of a potential wife, the daughter of notorious traitors.  Mind you, they didn’t mind me using her talents for the benefit of the company which earned them millions, but god forbid she should be a daughter-in-law or mother to their grandchild, I’d be cut out.  Me!  I built the damn company virtually from scratch.  Meanwhile, from the get go, Nelson, that pain in my side -- a man whose exploits have been thrown in my face for years , continually tried to pull Anne away from me.  Finally, I had a chance to say to hell with all of them.  Anne and I could start over out of the country free of all of them.”

 

         “Your relatives knew Admiral Nelson?” Lee asked.

 

         “My father and uncle served with him; they credit him with saving their lives.  He was second only to Jesus.  That’s why I could never take him on directly.   Originally I just had a little bit of fun by going at him by changing the herculite specs that we gave to the subcontractor.  And even after Nelson turned Anne against me, I knew it was better to come at him indirectly. through you, my dear Captain.”

 

         “No one turned me against you,” Kate protested.  “I simply found out the truth.  I couldn’t live with it.”

 

         “If Nelson hadn’t set you to it, it would all have been different.  We’d be together.  Married.  Babies even.  Free to live the way we talked about.”  Dirk placed his pistol on the nightstand opposite Kate, out of her or Lee’s reach, then leaned in towards Kate.  He rubbed his head into her hair again.  “God help me, but I’ve missed you.”  He forced a kiss upon her, then began to unbutton her blouse.  Anne didn’t resist, but stoically tolerated his molestation.  He moved to unbutton her pants and pull them down.  Lee shook his arms furiously against the foot rail, futilely trying to reach at Christie.  Christie nestled his face between Anne’s legs for several minutes before he brought his head up.

 

         “The scent of a woman, Captain, my woman, even after all she’s done to destroy me.  You smell it too, I can see.  Even Arnold over there can smell it and react to it.  We’re all weak creatures of flesh, you know.  Victims of hormones, pheromones.  Look at you both. Pornography is effective on even the staidest of us, because we are all victims of desire.  You can have the Captain, Arnold.  I’ll even help you along.”   Christie reached through the footboard to Lee’s pants.  Lee thrust his cuffed hands up and down the iron rail to create as much of an obstacle as he could, but Christie was able to unlatch Lee’s waistband and zipper.   Lee’s pants slowly sagged to his knees, his resistance only speeding their descent.

 

         “Come on, Arnold, I’ve seen you do it enough times over the years.  Don’t be embarrassed.”

 

         “I’m not a rapist, Christie,” Arnold protested.

 

         “If you could see him from my angle, you’d see he might be more willing than he’d ever admit, aren’t you, Captain?”

 

         “Stop this insanity, Christie,” Lee demanded.

 

         “Well, if Arnold isn’t willing to play, you’ll just have to watch us, Crane.”  Christie made good on his word, but he wasn’t content to let Anne just lie there unresisting.  “Tell me how good it feels, Anne.  How you missed me.  Show me.”  His violence increased, but she remained passive until he expended himself.  He laid atop her a few moments.  Lee prayed it was over.  He didn’t think Anne had been badly hurt physically, at least so far as he could see.  Unfortunately, Christie wasn’t done, a fact which resonated as puzzling to Lee given what he’d just witnessed. 

 

         “You know what I want now, Anne.”

 

         “Enough, Dirk, please.”

 

         Dirk retrieved his pistol and aimed it at Lee.  “Your choice, Anne.  His arm or his leg?”  He cocked the trigger.

 

         “All right, just leave him alone.”   Anne moved forward toward the footboard, but the cuff stopped her progress.

 

         Christie unlocked her cuffed right hand.  “No tricks or I will shoot to maim him.”

 

         “No tricks,” she promised.  Ann moved toward the middle of the bed.  She looked dolefully at Lee, mouthing “I’m so sorry.”

 

         “No, I am,” Lee whispered.

 

         “Finish me off,” Christie ordered. Christie aimed his gun at Kate’s side as he returned to where he’d begun.   “Ah, god, the smell and taste of a woman,” Christie exclaimed after only a few moments as he pushed Kate off to the side of him.  “Thank you, my love.”  Christie got up and pulled up his pants.  “Hah, the good Captain looks nearly ready to go now too!” he announced as he stood.  “Should we take pity on the poor fool, Anne?  It may be his last chance in this lifetime.”

 

         “Enough, Dirk.  I’m sufficiently humiliated.”

 

         “I don’t think you get to be the judge of that, Anne.  This is my show.  Come on, now.  He only needs a little help now.”

 

         Anne was in tears.  “Don’t do this, please.”

 

         Dirk pistol whipped Lee in the cheek and shot his fist into Lee’s side immediately after.  “I could hurt him bad or you could hurt him good, Anne.”

 

         “Why would you do this?” Kate begged.

 

         “Because I haven’t sufficiently humiliated Nelson’s golden boy yet,” Dirk smiled.

 

         Kate and Lee exchanged pitying looks. 

 

         “It’s all right,” Lee whispered to Kate.  “Just do as he says.  We will get through this.”

 

         “Come on Anne, touch him.  Fondle him.”  Christie prepared to swipe at Lee again.

 

         Tears dripped from her eyes.  As she hesitated, Christie punched Lee in the side once again.  “All right.  Just stop!”   She did as ordered.  Lee didn’t want to respond, but Christie had been right about some things.  The flesh sometimes has a mind of its own. 

 

         “Stop!” Christie ordered abruptly.  “Ha.  How much more stimulation would it take, Crane?  A touch?  Or shall we leave you with blue balls for a memory?  What do you say?”

 

         “It’s your game, Christie, not mine.  This changes nothing,” Lee protested.

 

         “You’re wrong about that.  Controlling others is highly empowering.  And doing it sexually is more exciting than I ever realized it could be.  Now it’s my turn to watch you take her.”

 

         “I think that’d be rather difficult to accomplish in this position,” Crane said.  Maybe, just maybe, Christie could be induced to remove his cuffs.

 

         “Anne can think of way.  She’s quite amazing with spatial relations, aren’t you, love?  Come on, get in there.”  Christie again began to launch the pistol toward Lee’s face.

 

         “All right.  Just stop hitting him, please!”  Kate wedged into the space between Lee’s torso and the footboard. 

 

         “Good.  Better make this exciting, Crane, or I’ll have to think of something else to kill time.”

 

         Lee thought of the many times he had been beaten or even tortured, the times that he’d willingly exposed himself to danger or punishment to save others, and then there was this.  Just when you thought a human being couldn’t go lower, Christie did.  Lee questioned whether he should cooperate.  Was he protecting Kate or himself if he did or was he making matters worse?

 

         “It’s all right, Lee,” Kate whispered.  “Just do what he says.  There can’t be much time left.”

 

         “I don’t even know if I can.  Are you sure?”

 

         “Just pretend he isn’t here.  Pretend it was last week.”

 

         That would be a stretch, but for now, alive and not badly injured appeared to be their best option.  Lee bent his knees to meet Kate.  Kate wrapped her arms around Lee’s neck to pull off the floor.  Lee really couldn’t maneuver much, except to push Kate to a sit across the horizontal bar of the  footboard to relieve the pressure on the shoulder he knew she’d hurt earlier. 

 

         “Come on, this isn’t much of a show!” Christie complained. 

 

         “Boring, is what it is,” Arnold Swenson said, his first contribution to the conversation in a long time.

 

         “For god’s sake, don’t bore my friend here!” Christie yelled and rammed his elbow into Lee’s back, thrusting him forward into Kate.  Both groaned. 

 

         Kate, with eyes tightly closed, wrapped her legs tightly around Lee’s torso.  It couldn’t be long, she thought, she hoped, for both their sakes, but what rational man could be expected to perform under such circumstances?  She feared what Christie might do if that happened, but a moment later she didn’t need to.  She felt a wash of warmth before Lee gently bent down and backed up a few inches so that Kate could stand again.  Both opened their eyes again, sorrow and pain evident. 

 

         “Get out of there!” Christie abruptly yelled at her.  Kate ducked under Lee’s arms as quickly as she could.   Christie grabbed her by the arm as she emerged.  He backhanded her in the chest so hard that she reeled into the wall and sank down to the floor.  “You goddamn slut.”  He pinned her by the throat.  “Did it ever occur to you to say ‘no, I won’t, I couldn’t, my love, not to you’  for even a second?  I think you even enjoyed that.”  Christie’s face flushed red.  He struck out at her again, this time slapping her face.   “You whore.  I’ll show you.”

 

         Lee struggled even harder this time to break away from the footboard rails, but the sturdy antique bed frame made of solid cast iron would not give.  Lee merely began to drag the entire bed a few inches, an exhausting effort, to no avail. 

 

         “Christie, stop it, for God’s sake, stop,” Lee pleaded.  It was as if Christie couldn’t hear him.   What unfolded before him then no longer resembled a warped psychological game between former lovers.  It was plain, brutal rape and it crushed Lee’s spirit to watch helplessly as it happened.  He turned his head to Arnold Swenson.  “For god’s sake man, stop him before he kills her.”  Swenson, although he looked very uncomfortable, either didn’t know what to do or was too afraid to act. 

 

         Kate stopped moving.  Lee half hoped she was unconscious, that she had been for some time.  Roger burst through the door, pulling everyone’s attention outward. 

 

         “Oh, sorry, boss.  Um, you want me to come back in a couple of minutes?”

 

         Christie looked up at him silently, his face distorted in his pique.  In a few moments, however, he composed himself in what Lee thought nearly a Jekyll-Hyde transformation.   “Do you come with news, Roger?”

 

         “Our ride will be here in five minutes.”

 

         “Wonderful,” he smiled.  “Stay here with us, just to make sure our guests don’t try anything foolish.”

 

         “Are we going take them out of here like that?”

 

         “Our submarine captain doesn’t look quite so formidable in his BVDs, does he?  I suppose he’ll suffer enough loss of dignity in the days ahead that we can let him wear his pants up on the way out, if you’d be so kind as to help him.”

 

         “And her?”

 

         “Don’t you think naked is appropriate for a whore?”

 

         “Whatever you say boss,” Roger said unable to draw his gaze away from Kate.

 

         “I see your point.  She might prove distracting.”

 

         “Kinda, yes.”

 

         Christie rose and redressed his lower half.  Lee could not help but notice the oddity that Christie’s pants continued to bulge even after what he’d just done.  Had Roger not interrupted when he did, Christie’s abuse might have gone on longer. 

 

         Christie rummaged through Kate’s closet and produced a simple dress.  He threw it at her.  “Put it on.”  Kate began to move slowly, but it was clear she’d been injured.  Lee looked at her, caught sight of the scissors nearby and shot a suggestive glance to her. 

 

         Kate understood what Lee wanted, but didn’t know yet if she had the physical ability or energy to comply.  She used the wall to prop herself as she rose from the floor.  Various parts throbbed as she awkwardly pulled the dress over her head.  She backed up against the nightstand as she donned the dress, sweeping the scissors into her palm and slipping them into the side pocket of the dress, along with a pen that also had been on the nightstand.  Christie and Roger didn’t seem to notice as they were busy releasing and re-securing Lee’s handcuffs.  Swenson’s gun aimed at Kate kept Lee from attempting anything.

        

         “You want to use the cuffs on her, boss?” Roger asked when Lee was re-cuffed behind his back.

 

         “I don’t think we need to bother.  Come along, Anne,”  Christie put his arm around her waist and steered her along toward the stairs. 

 

         Lee pondered action on the stairwell.  He could catch Roger off balance if he fell forward, negating the gun in his hand.   Lee doubted that Arnold Swenson would fire the gun he’d tensely held.  Swenson looked as though he wished he was anywhere else.  If Lee could count on Kate to use the scissors or even to knock Christie down the stairs, it might result in enough chaos to give them an edge.  Of course, there was at least one armed man outside.   Lee would need to get the cuffs free to deal with him.  He turned his head back toward Kate, stalling on the step.  “Keep moving,” Roger said, nudging the gun more firmly into Lee’s lower back. 

 

         A dozen scenarios went through Lee’s mind how it could play out.  None were foolproof.  He had to decide in seconds what to do.  Nothing.  He had to trust Admiral Nelson who swore he would not let Lee get taken aboard that sub.  If Lee pulled something and failed, Christie would hurt one of them badly, most probably Kate.  Lee had doubts as the afternoon had begun, but after watching Christie’s personality changes he believed that Christie might really carry out his threat to kill Kate and take only Lee.   Lee had to hope that a better opportunity would present itself.  At the very least, it bought them more time, time he hoped his men would use to good avail.  

 

Chapter 16 - Trouble in Open Water

 

         Lee and Kate were herded at gunpoint into a dinghy outfitted with an outboard motor.   Lee couldn’t see a boat, however.  Lee immediately knew this meant that Christie’s cohorts had obtained a slower boat with a deeper draft that could not navigate the cove even as far as the cigarette boat had when it backed up.   Lee could not help but feel that his ordering Sharkey to take out the cigarette boat to buy more time had backfired miserably.   He also calculated that if the sub remained in Canadian waters, they faced at least another hour of Christie’s games before dealing with whatever horrors might face them on the sub.  Cigarette boats had little in the way of below deck space.  The cabin cruiser that awaited them outside the cove promised Christie privacy to continue his horrid games if he chose.  Lee raged inside at how things went, but raging internally was all he could do.

 

         Things were definitely looking worse when they were directed aboard the cruiser.   Several more armed guards were unhelpful to escape possibilities.  Meanwhile, Dirk Christie had reverted to Dr. Jekyll mode.  He tenderly helped Kate aboard acting as if he had not been the one to hurt her.

 

         Lee and Kate were escorted to the cabin below deck.  Lee was instructed to enter the galley bench first, a difficult feat given cuffs latched behind his back.  Kate sat next to him.   Christie rummaged through a nearby pantry and produced three glasses and a bottle of gin.  “I apologize for the lack of mixers.  Had the other boat not had problems, I could have offered a better selection.”  He poured three glasses, each two fingers tall.  He reached into his pants pocket and slapped several things on the table including a pill bottle, a capped syringe and a vial of medicine.  Christie took a couple of pills out of the bottle, then replaced the other items in his pocket.  Christie swallowed the pills, knocked back his drink and poured another.  “If only someone had laid in some ice.  Alas.  Drink up.” 

 

         Kate ignored Christie, and Lee was helpless to comply given his hands were cuffed behind his back.  

 

         “It wasn’t a request.  Drink.”  Christie waved his pistol in their general direction.  Lee was more concerned with the gun toting man by the hatch.  “Drink,”  Christie again ordered, this time bringing the glass to Lee’s lips.  “Is it not your brand, Captain?”

 

         “I prefer coffee.”

 

         “Sorry to disappoint you, but this is all there is.  Drink it and say thank you.”

 

         “Or?”  Lee spat out before he thought of the wisdom of it.  The immediate change in Christie’s demeanor told Lee he’d miscalculated.  “Never mind,” Lee said, “I’ll drink it.”  

 

         “A man who learns from his mistakes is a wise man, Captain.  And you, Anne?  You sorely look like you would benefit by a drink.”

 

         Kate’s eyes had not met Christie’s or Lee’s since they’d boarded and her face remained downcast.   Lee wished that Christie would leave them alone for a few minutes.  With Christie there, he dare not try to talk to her, let alone comfort her. 

 

         “You do not seem to understand the gravity of the situation, Anne.  You should drink.”

 

         Kate raised her head.  Lee had a clearer view of the bruises that had begun to show.  He wanted to throttle Christie’s last breath from his throat.  Kate’s left hand moved slowly, shakily toward the glass.  Meanwhile, unseen by Christie, Kate’s right hand slipped something into Lee’s left, the metal clip from the ball point pen.  She followed that up by placing the scissors behind Lee.  She continued to raise the glass slowly towards her mouth, each movement an obvious strain on her injured shoulder.  When the glass was about to reach her mouth, with a groan of pain, she tossed it at Christie. 

 

         Lee hoped for Kate’s sake that Christie wouldn’t erupt, even though Lee knew she’d done it as a taunting diversion to give Lee a chance to free himself.   Christie placed his pistol on the table to his left, out of Kate’s reach, before he stood up and then picked up the gin bottle.  “That was unkind of you, Anne.  I don’t understand why you would choose to be like that now.  It seems so . . . so unwise.”  Christie crossed along the end the table, sidling up to Kate.  “Was it so much to ask of you, to take a small drink, to celebrate this moment?”  He reached out with one hand to push Kate’s head backwards.  He tried to pour the contents of the bottle down her throat, mostly drenching her.  Kate seemed oddly passive, but Lee was all right with it if it kept Christie from physically abusing her. 

 

         “No protests from either of you?” Christie smirked.  “Have we so easily yielded to the puppeteer?”  Christie bent down and licked Kate’s cheek.  Kate instinctively recoiled back towards Lee.  “He can’t protect you, my love.  I could have.  I might have.”  Christie nuzzled his face into hers.  “I might still.  Come with me.”  Christie tugged her by the left arm.   Kate groaned.

 

         “Leave her be, Christie,” Lee pleaded.  “Can’t you see she’s hurt?”  The bulge on Kate’s left shoulder had swollen further in the last hour.   Lee also worried about the injuries he couldn’t see.  Christie continued to pull her up until a sudden lurch of the boat stalled his efforts.  Kate, halfway up, fell sideways into the table.  She moaned in pain.

 

         “What the hell?” Christie railed as he bounced off the bulkhead.

 

         Lee knew what had happened.  The boat had suddenly stopped.  What he didn’t know yet was why. 

 

         Christie yelled up the hatch.  “What the hell is going on up there?”   He received no answer.  “Keep a close eye on them,” Christie barked, flying through the hatch door. 

        

         The guard left behind wisely picked up Christie’s abandoned weapon.  “You, back on the bench,” he directed Kate.

 

         Kate eased slowly to the bench, her breath shallow. 

 

         The guard kept his gun trained on Lee, but all the while kept his head turned toward the hatch, keen on hearing what the trouble was and how it might affect him.

 

         Lee whispered to Kate.  “How badly are you hurt?”

 

         “Don’t worry about me.  You have to get out of here.”

 

         “We leave together.  Maybe soon.”

 

         “What’s happening?”

 

         “Engines are still running, but straining.  I’m guessing the props are fouled.”

 

         Christie slammed back through the hatch doors terminating their conversation.  “Goddamit!”  He reached for the radio on the port side above the galley.  “Cobra 169er, this is Adder 12, come in.”

 

         “Adder 12 acknowledged.  Pass key?”

 

         “729 623 Krakow.  Our props are fouled.  You’ll have to come to us.”

 

         “Negative.  Objective will be aborted.”

 

         “Tell your boss we have Captain Lee Crane of the submarine Seaview aboard too, then get back to me.”

 

         A long pause followed. 

 

         “We need assurances you have not been followed.  Sonar readings have picked up an echo or shadow from underneath your boat.”

 

         “Jackson, get down here!” Christie yelled.

 

         The man Lee presumed to be the pilot came down.  “Yes, sir?”

 

         “Tell the man that nothing’s followed us,” Christie ordered.

 

         “No sir, nothing has followed us, other than maybe a pod of dolphins or a humpback.  They love to coast underneath these tubs.  Nothing on the surface at all and certainly nothing big enough to be a sub.”

 

         “Tell them why we are stopped,” Christie said.

 

         “We caught a fishing net in our props.  It may take over a half hour or longer to clear it.”

 

         “Listen to the man!” Christie said.  “You can be here in far less time.”

 

         “We have other concerns.”

 

         “We’re barely a couple of miles out of international waters.  You’ll be in and out before anyone can react,” Christie urged.

 

         “Attempt repairs.  We will advise of our decision shortly.”

 

         Christie’s face bulged.  “You heard the man, Jackson.  Get to work on those props.  If they won’t come in, we need to get out to international waters.”   Christie took his pistol from the guard’s left hand.  He cocked it and pointed it at Lee’s face.   “This better not be Nelson’s doing!”  After a tense few moments, he slammed the gun onto the table, released it there, and inhaled deeply.  “As long as we’ve got time on our hands, I’m going to clean up.  Advise me the second you hear back from our friends on the radio and keep a close eye on them.”   Christie started to pull away.  “On second thought, since you made this mess, Anne, you should help clean it up.  Come on.”  He once again pulled at her injured arm.

 

         “Christie, don’t,” Lee pleaded. 

 

         “Don’t worry, Lee.  I’ll be all right.”

 

         Lee knew nothing was further from the truth, but if and until he worked himself free, there was little he could do to help Kate.  He’d seen Christie’s personality shifts too many times already.  Lee had a hunch what caused them.  Christie’s physique before jail was nothing like it was now.  Now, he could pass for a bodybuilder.  Steroid use in prison wasn’t uncommon.  His aggression now could be tied to steroid use or even withdrawal.  Yet something didn’t add up.  Steroids were well known to reduce sexual function, and that certainly hadn’t been a problem for Christie.  Quite the opposite, Christie’s fast recovery earlier had led to him hurting Kate repeatedly.  That vial and the needle, could they be responsible?  Damn.  If his folks had fouled the props, Lee’s people only bought Christie more time to hurt her again.  Lee was desperate to break free to stop him.         

 

         “Fill the sink up, Anne,” he yelled as he pushed her into the head.  For a few moments, Lee heard nothing else.  He couldn’t see what was happening down the corridor.  When he tried to strain over the table to get a look, the guard pushed him back by waving his gun in Lee’s face.

 

         “Come on, now, Anne.  Clean me up.”   Christie spoke loudly to make sure that Lee would hear.  However, Lee heard no response to Christie’s demand.   Moments later, he heard gagging.  “Come on, Anne.   You’re options are limited.” 

 

         Again, Lee heard no response at first, then more gagging. 

 

         “I see your game, now, Anne.  You don’t care if I drown you.  You want to die.  But I don’t want you to die, Anne.  Death is easy.  Three years in prison is not.”

 

         Lee heard more gagging, followed by coughing.  He worked furiously to undo the cuffs with the ball point clip, but working behind his back while sitting was infuriatingly difficult.  “Stop squirming,” the guard ordered, only half paying attention as the drama down the corridor drew his attention too.

 

         “You son of a bitch.  I lost everything too.  Family, friends, my career.”

 

         “That’s it, Anne.  I like you feisty.”

 

         “You made stupid choices!  Did it ever occur to your macho brain that if you’d asked me, I might have helped you find a way out of the business, a legal way, one that wouldn’t have killed people?”

 

         “Oh, that’s good, Anne.  God, that’s good.  But that’s all in the past now.  What lies ahead for us now, Anne?  What could be?”   Silence.  “Tell me, Anne.” 

 

         “Nothing.”

 

         “I could negotiate with the Republic.  You could offer your services to them voluntarily.  We could be together.”

 

         “So I could be the traitor that my father and mother were falsely accused of being?  No.”

 

         “It’s not like our government has been your friend, Anne.  They betrayed you on the mildest threat of my revealing the company’s funding.  Then when I told them about your parentage, well, if it hadn’t been for my idiot relatives shooting at you on the courthouse steps, I’d have walked away with a slap on the hands.  The government would never have let the case go to the jury once that came out. You’d have been free to come with me too.  I’d have forgiven you then.  I might be able to find a way to do it now.”

 

         Lee wished Kate would just play along for time, agree with Christie just a little.   Lee worked in a panic.  Lee knew Christie was going to hurt Kate as it continued, maybe kill her.  The guard -- caught up in the drama -- no longer payed much attention to Lee.  Lee furiously wiggled the pen clip in the cuffs as he strained to hear more, but he heard no response from Kate.   He tried to stay on task; he was nearly free.

 

         After a few quiet moments, Dirk Christie’s robust laugh broke the silence.  “That’s funny, Anne, very funny.  Captain Crane, you should know, she said she’d agree on one condition, that I set you free now.  Ha ha.  What a sense of humor, you have, my love.  How I do so need you by my side!”

 

         The cuffs popped open.  Lee wanted to rush to help her, but first he had an armed guard to dodge.  Lee daren’t make unnecessary movement to draw the man’s attention to his efforts.  He carefully and quietly slipped the cuffs off his cramped wrists, rubbing his wrists to restore better circulation.  Then Lee picked up the scissors in his right hand, opened them wide to expose a single blade and decided on his move.  Moments later, he, like the guard, was distracted by the sounds from the head:  Kate crying out in pain and banging and crashing noises.

 

         Lee started up from the bench.  The guard turned to see his movement.  “Sit back down.”

 

         Lee cursed inwardly.  “That drink.  Would you mind?”

 

         “Yeah, I know what you mean, pal.”  The guard didn’t seem very comfortable either.  He took a swig straight from the bottle.  “He’s one mean s.o.b.”  After the guard set the bottle down, he brought the cup of gin to Lee’s lips.  If Lee had more time, he might have worked the guard differently; he might have not had to resort to the level of violence he did.  He plunged the scissors into the right eyeball of the guard, pulled them back out and jabbed a second time in the man’s throat.  Blood spurted everywhere.  The shocked guard gagged.  He couldn’t call for help.  As Lee emerged from behind the bench, the radio called.  “Adder 12, this is Cobra 169er, please acknowledge.”

 

         Lee picked up Christie’s gun from the table.  He walked up the three steps to the hatch and hitched the lock from the inside.  As he came back down, the radio call repeated.  Lee hesitated.  In the seconds it would take to respond, Christie could kill Kate, if he hadn’t already.  If Lee didn’t respond, the sub might not come into U.S. waters.   The fiasco would then be complete.  He was fairly certain that Kate would tell him to play it out if given the option.  “This is Adder 12.  Passkey 729 623 Krakow.”

 

         “We will arrive at your position in ten minutes.  We will allow four minutes for passenger transfer, no longer.”

 

         “Acknowledged.”

 

         Ten minutes, Lee worried as he ran back to the head.  At least Christie was unarmed. 

 

         Lee’s gut wrenched as he stepped into the head.  Anne was draped over Christie in the shower stall, her arms hanging limply on his back, her head off toward the wall side where Lee could not see it.  Christie, mounted beneath her, grunted as he slammed her inert body into the wall behind.

 

         “Put her down, Christie.  Now.”

 

         Christie didn’t seem to hear Lee at first. 

 

         “Now, Christie.  Set her down, gently.”

 

         Christie finally caught focus of Lee. 

 

         “I mean it.  I’ll shoot you right now if you don’t.”

 

         Christie nodded towards Lee, but instead of obeying, he turned so that Kate’s body shielded him or so he thought.  Lee shot Christie in the foot.  Christie released his hold on Kate.  She slumped forwards into Lee.  He held her between his arms.  Christie lurched toward them, but Lee didn’t hesitate.  He pumped three rounds point blank into Christie’s chest. 

 

         “Kate, can you walk?”

 

         “Huh?”

 

         Lee felt along the back of her head.  Blood.  She was dazed from a blow to the head, possibly concussed.  “We’ve got to get to the forward hatch.  It’s our only chance.”   Lee quickly realized that she wasn’t in any shape to follow instructions.  He took her in a fireman’s carry to the forward cabin.  “They’ll have heard the gunshots and try to get inside.  I think the hatch doors will hold them for a while.  They can’t open the fore hatch from outside.” 

 

          “You go.  Come back for me later.”

 

         “Kate, we go together, and we have to go soon.”  Lee got up on the bunk and pushed up the hatch slowly.  He didn’t see anyone on the bow or sides.  He came back down.  “I think it’s clear enough to risk it.”

 

         “They’re not really going to cross the border for us, are they?”

 

         “Yes, they’ll be here in a just a few minutes.”

 

         “I won’t be able to stay afloat, Lee.”

 

         “I’ll take care of that for you.”

 

         “In open sea, for how long?  Don’t risk it for me.  I can’t let you.”

 

         “We’re not out here alone.  I’m sure of it.  The fishing line fouling the prop, the sonar shadow, that’s the Flying Sub.”

 

         “Can’t we just wait here then?”

 

         “I’d rather not.  Even assuming that my men are coming aboard soon, it’d be best to be off this boat when the sub arrives.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “Because when her captain realizes this isn’t going per plan, he’s likely to blow us out of the water.  I’d like to be as far off her as time allows.  I suspect we have help waiting nearby.  I’m going up first.  I want you to stand right here.  Don’t move.  If you do, I’ll have to come back down for you and we’ll lose precious time.  I know it will hurt when I pull you up, but try to stay as quiet as you can.” 

 

         Kate nodded.  Lee worried she would crumple to the floor when he let her go.  He also worried she would choose not to come, but hoped his threat to come back would discourage that.  He topped the hatch without being seen.  He took a better look around before he reached down for Kate.  He knew she would have trouble staying low.  He was sure her ribs were injured.  If they were spotted, he’d have to shield her and fire quickly.  He rather anticipated it would happen that way.  He took a readying breath and extended both his hands to her.  She raised her right arm up towards him, but she couldn’t get the left one above her shoulder.  Lee wasn’t surprised; he’d known it was dislocated.  He pulled in one long, strong motion, expecting only one chance at this.  Kate closed her eyes, grimacing, groaning softly until Lee got her upper torso out of the hatch and then pulled her gently out the rest of the way onto the bow.   

 

         Lee turned just in time to see one of Christie’s thugs heading toward them, gun extended.  Without hesitation, Lee rolled and fired.  Four to go, Lee counted, wishing Nelson’s promised help had materialized five minutes earlier.  Two more men rushed towards the bow.  Lee was in trouble now.  He fired at one, then rolled the opposite way to come up aiming at the other.  He heard a shot and mentally prepared for an impact.  As he came up to shoot, he was somewhat surprised to discover he was fine and the assailant was no longer in sight. 

 

         “Got him, Skipper!”  a voice yelled.  More shots peeled off toward starboard. 

 

         “All clear, Skipper!”  It was Sharkey’s voice.  Lee sighed in relief.  Sharkey and Stu Riley ascended toward the bow in wet suits.  “We should get moving fast sir.  That sub is nearly here.”

 

         Lee nodded.  “She needs help off.”  Lee suddenly felt all in.  His hand wound throbbed as did his numerous bruises.

 

         “I’ve got you, Ma’am,” Riley said as he gently helped Kate up, then picked her up fireman style. 

 

         “Um, Skipper, I think we don’t have time to dawdle,” Sharkey urged.

 

         “Hold on to her as best you can, Riley.  Kate, we’re going to have to go off the bow.  I’m sorry.”

 

         On cue, the three men ran forward and jumped. 

 

         “Damn that’s cold,” Lee shivered.  Sharkey held on to him and pulled him forward.  They were met by two navy frogmen holding on to four diving scooters and bearing two small emergency scuba tanks.  Sharkey took one scooter with gear and Riley the other. 

 

         “Let’s move, people.  We’ll get clear and then get gear on later if we need it,” one of the Navy frogmen yelled. 

 

         “Skipper, I could use your belt,” said Riley.

 

         “There isn’t time,” the Navy frogman barked.

 

         “I’m worried she won’t be able to hold on if I don’t tether her,” Riley said.

 

         Lee had his belt off so fast that any argument was pointless.  Riley wrapped it around Kate’s waist, then ran a short line with a carabineer from his belt to it.  “Just ride me like a dolphin, Ma’am, and keep your head above water.”

 

         “Guess you’ll just have to hold on to me, Sir,” Sharkey laughed, “but don’t be thinking I’m a dolphin.”  Sharkey kicked on the scooter and was off before the Skipper could respond.  When they were about a thousand feet from the boat a massive explosion rocked the water.  They slowed down, both to look back and to take the swells more calmly.  The boat was gone. 

 

         “Don’t get comfortable, sir.  A bigger bang is likely to come soon,” Sharkey said.  They started forward again, only to turn their heads as the Flying Sub whizzed over them past the exploded boat. 

 

         “Stop,”  Lee yelled over the scooter noise. 

 

         “Something wrong, Captain Crane?” the Navy frogman asked as he stopped.  The others also halted.

 

         “We deserve to see this,” Lee said.

 

         “We really should clear out of here.”

 

         “We’re safe enough.”

 

         “That sub could send missiles our way still,” the Navy frogman argued.

 

         “Unlikely.”  Lee moved towards Kate.  “It’s going to end now, Kate.  Watch.”

 

         Lee supported her by the side as Riley straightened so they were upright.  Depth charge canisters dropped in sets of two from the Flying Sub’s hatch, enough to cover a broad area.  Deafening roars filled the sky.  A missile exploded from the surface toward the Flying Sub.  She waggled and escaped its first pass.  A heat seeker, it looped and returned toward her.  Another erupted from underwater and came at her from the rear.

 

         “Where’s the damn help the Navy promised?” Crane yelled worried for his men aboard.  The Flying Sub didn’t carry weapons capable of stopping heat seeking missiles.

 

         Two sonic booms pierced the air.  Several overlapping explosions followed, above and below the water.  Heavy smoke filled the air.  Seconds later, when the smoke cleared, the Flying Sub was still aloft, accompanied by two Navy jets who’d downed the missiles.  Moments later, an obviously damaged sub broached the water’s surface. 

 

         Broadcasted words boomed through the air.  “This is the United States Navy.  You have breached United States waters illegally.  Surrender immediately.”

 

         “Like that’s ever going to happen,” Riley snorted. 

 

         “I think you’re right.  Let’s get farther away while we can,” Lee said.  They resumed their cold swim for another minute before a massive explosion occurred.  The swells took some time to reach them. 

 

         “Hold on tight, folks,” Lee warned, really speaking to a weary Kate as the others knew.  Lee didn’t like how pale she looked.   “Riley, give her some oxygen.”  

 

         A minute later, the Flying Sub landed fifty yards ahead of their position.  A Naval cutter approached them from starboard. 

 

         “The Doc’s on board with Mr. Morton, sir,” Sharkey advised, answering the Skipper’s unspoken question. 

 

         “Help me get her in FS1 then.”

 

         “We’ll do that, sir,” all four men volunteered.

 

         “I’ll hang back with the Skipper, if it’s okay with you all,” Sharkey said.

 

         Without acknowledgement the two Navy frogmen and Riley took Kate aboard. 

 

         “How are you holding up, sir?”

 

         “I look that bad?”

 

         “You look all in.”

 

         “Thanks for the rescue, last minute though it was.”

 

         “Sorry we were late, sir.  Navy just ain’t what it used to be.”

 

         “No kidding.  Where’d Riley come from?”

 

         “He was on leave canoodling with a girl in Boston.  I hijacked him.”

 

         “Well thank you for that, Sharkey.  Not to seem ungracious, but it might be better for Kate if you and Riley go back with that cutter.”

 

         “No problem, Skipper.  Hey, Riley, we’re catching a lift back with our new friends.”

 

         “Thanks,” Lee said to all before he entered the top hatch.

 

         “Our pleasure, sir.”

 

         “Next time, don’t cut it so close!” Lee yelled.

 

        

 

Chapter 17 - Damage Assessment

 

 

         As Lee boarded FS1, Dr. Will Jamieson and Chip immediately came to his side, draping a warm blanket over his shivering form.   “I’m fine.”

 

         “Sure you are, Lee.”  Dr. Jamieson already had Lee’s wounded hand in his.  “That’ll need stitches, for certain.”

 

         “Kate’s hurt worse.  Check her first.  Chip, back off a minute and let me talk to the doctor privately.”   Lee waited until Chip was clear.  “I’m pretty sure she’s got a dislocated left shoulder and a cracked rib or two, lower ones.  She’s got a gash on the back of her head, right side.”

 

         “I’ll make a field medic of you yet, Captain,” Doc joked.  When Lee didn’t acknowledge him, Doc’s worry radar was set off.  “Sorry, Lee.  What else do I need to know?”

 

         “She may have internal injuries too.”

 

         “You think this why?”

 

         “She was raped.”

 

         “Oh.”

 

         “Two of the times were very rough physically,” Lee said.

 

         “My lord.”

 

         “I was there and I couldn’t help her, Jamie.”  Lee’s eyes were clouded over now.  Maybe he’d have spared her that last time if he had moved faster, if . . . if . . . if.

 

         “I know you did your best, Captain.  Maybe it would help if you stayed by her, since she knows you.  You’re a friend.  She may not feel comfortable alone with me.”

 

         Lee couldn’t say no, as much as he wanted to shrink into the hardware just then.

 

         “Hi, Kate.  I’m Doctor Jamieson, from the Seaview.  I know you’ve had a very rough time of it.  I’m just going to do a quick exam to make sure you’re stabilized before we get you to a proper hospital, okay?”

 

         Kate’s teeth chattered, making her response less than understandable. 

 

         “I’d like to warm you up as fast as possible.  To do that, I’d l would like to remove your soaked clothes.  We’ll give you as much privacy as we can to do that.  Okay?” 

 

         She nodded.

 

         “My preference is to cut your dress off, so we don’t have to move you unnecessarily.  Would you prefer me to do it or the Captain?”

 

         “Lee.”

 

         Now Lee really wanted to shrink away.  His overdeveloped sense of responsibility was about to bite him in the ass big time.  “You just lie there, Kate.  Let me know if I’m hurting anything.”

 

         “It hurts just to lie here.”  She tried to make a joke of it, but with the chattering teeth and her condition, it didn’t fly.

 

         “You know what I mean.  Ready?” 

 

          The doctor directed Lee to start low and work up, giving the doctor a chance to glance and cover her with a blanket simultaneously.   Once Lee got to the top, the doctor instructed him how to cut off the dress.  That wasn’t in Lee’s repertoire previously.

 

         “Captain, lay out another blanket here.  Kate, what we’re going to do next is gently roll you on your side, so we can get the wet clothes from under you, and then place a nice, dry blanket under you.” 

 

         Lee followed the doctor’s hand motions, wishing Kowalski or some other field medic had been there to do this.

 

         “Kate, we could warm you up much faster if we rub your limbs some.  Is it okay if the captain does that?” Jamie asked.

 

         Inwardly, Lee wished the doctor had asked him if it was okay with Lee.  Couldn’t someone else do this?  Why him?   

 

         Kate nodded slightly, first looking at Lee, then turning her head away.   He gently rubbed her limbs, one at a time, moving to stay out of the doctor’s way as he examined Kate cursorily.

 

         “I think the Captain’s diagnoses are quite accurate, Miss.  You have two broken ribs, some dandy bruised ones, a dislocated shoulder and a host of contusions.  Without equipment on board, I can only say that so far I don’t suspect any internal bleeding based on your symptoms, though deep bruising in places may feel nearly as bad.  I’m going to give you something mild for pain right now.  After that, we have two options.  We can call in a chopper for transport on a backboard or we’re going to have to get you up and harnessed for take off.  If I were you, I’d choose the chopper.” 

 

         Kate was already pulling herself up.  “Might never get another opportunity to fly in this if I did that,” she smiled and grimaced at the same time.  Lee helped her up while trying to keep her covered by the blanket. 

 

         “Anytime you want a ride, Kate, I’ll take you.”

 

         “Put off doing things longer?  No thank you.”

 

         “I hear you,” Lee said, assisting her into a bunk. 

 

         The doctor headed toward the nearby jump seat.  “This seat’s taken, Jamie.”

 

         “Excuse me?”

 

         “You heard me.  Go co-pilot with Chip.”

 

         “I can’t fly this thing, Captain, and you know it.”

 

         “Chip can fly it solo in his sleep.  I’m riding shotgun here.”

 

         Dr. Jamieson backed off, knowing he’d lose the argument and not wanting to waste time in transporting his patients.   While warming Kate up offered her greater comfort, it was also likely to accelerate symptoms that the cold might have hidden or slowed, including internal bleeding.  He assumed the co-pilot’s seat by Mr. Morton.

 

         “You want to do take-off, Doc?” Chip joked.

 

         “Only if you’re anxious to see Davy Jones’ Locker, Mr. Morton.”

 

         “No, sir.  Everyone hang on.  I’ll try to be smooth.”

 

         Lee decided he would later critique Chip’s take off as well-above average, with room for improvement.  Then again, the thrill-seeker in Lee generally preferred a speedy takeoff to a perfectly smooth one.  Maybe he’d let it ride.

 

Chapter 18 - Fallout

 

         Twenty-five minutes later, they arrived at the base.  Lee stayed with Kate and

Jamie through transport and into the base’s small emergency room.  Dr. Jamieson disinfected and stitched Lee’s hand while Lee was seated in a chair separated from Kate only by a curtain. 

 

         Dr. Jamieson listened in closely as the other doctor examined Kate and ordered tests.  When that doctor called out of the room for a rape kit, Dr. Jamieson and Lee both bristled.  “I’ll take care of this, Lee.”  Dr. Jamieson arose, went around the curtain, and pulled the doctor outside of the room.

 

         “What the hell did you do that for?”

 

         “It’s a small ER.  Everyone knew we had a rape victim coming in before you even got here.”

 

         “That doesn’t mean you need to scream it down the hall in front of the patient.  We’ve got two folks in there that were held hostage at gunpoint for hours by a maniac.  Don’t you think we could treat them with a little dignity and kindness?”

 

         “I guess you’re right.  Sorry.  Hey, weren’t the kidnappers escapees from the federal pen?  Maybe we need two kits?”

 

         “Excuse me?” Dr. Jamieson asked.

 

         “I mean, well, you know what happens to guys in prison.  When they come out, that doesn’t change.  I know.  I interned at a federal pen once.”

 

         “And your experience qualifies you to guess that a man might have been raped without considering any physical evidence?” Jamie asked.

 

         “As a responsible physician, under the circumstances, I’d certainly want to rule it out.  There’s an empty exam table across the hall, if you’d like.”

 

         Dr. Jamieson glared at the Navy doctor a moment.  Then he shook his head.  What if, he wondered.  Would the captain ever admit such a thing?  Should he inquire?  He didn’t expect Lee would take it well if he did, but as a professional, should he ask? 

 

         “I’ll have one left in that room for you just in case,” the doctor said.  “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to my patient and try to heed your advice.”

 

         When the doctors returned to the room, Lee was by Kate’s side, holding her hand speaking softly to her. 

 

         “You might both want to leave now and give the patient some privacy when we . . .” he lowered his voice “do the kit.”

 

         “No kit, doctor,” Kate said.

 

         “What?”

 

         “He’s dead.  There’s no point.”

 

         “Are you certain?”

 

         “She is,” Lee answered for Kate.

 

         “I asked her,” the doctor said.

 

         “Yes, he’s dead,” Kate said.

 

         “You actually saw him killed?”

 

         “Captain Crane shot him, four times if you want to be precise.”

 

         “Just to be certain.  Then the boat he was on blew up,” Lee added.

 

         “All right.  It’s her choice,” said the doctor.

 

         “Kate, if It’s all right with you, I’d like to take Lee out for a more thorough exam now,” Dr. Jamieson said.

 

         Kate nodded.  Lee objected.  Kate dropped his hand.  “Go.  I think I’m going to sleep anyway.”

 

         “You just holler if you want me back.”

 

         Kate nodded again.  She was nearly out.

 

         “Follow me, Captain.”

 

         “Oh, it’s ‘Captain’ now.  That means I’m not going to like what comes next, right?”

 

         “You know me so well.  Come on in.  Lose everything, including the skivvies.”

 

         “But Jamie, you’ve already looked me over.”

 

         “I got nothing but time, Lee.  Let’s get to it.”

 

         “I’m really fine.  Just some bruises, I swear.”

 

         “Thank you, Dr. Crane, but now it’s my turn to play doctor.”  Jamie felt Lee’s ribs along his side and back.  “Some deep bruises here, but I don’t feel any breaks.  You’ve broken enough of them before.  What do you think?”

 

         “Nothing’s broken.”

 

         “Tell you what.  You tell me how it happened and maybe I’ll skip the x-rays.”

 

         “A large fist hit my side a couple of times, possibly an elbow too.”

 

         “Were you provoking the fist or elbow at the time?” Jamie asked.

 

         “No.  I was handcuffed to a . . . I was handcuffed.”

 

         “To what?”

 

         “A rail.”

 

         “Like a train rides on?”

 

         “No, Jamie.  Geez.  What difference does it make?”

 

         “Turn around.  Spread your legs apart.”

 

         “You want me to put my arms up so you can cuff them?”

 

         “Guess that did sound a bit like that,” Jamie laughed.  “Maybe I should check you for concealed weapons too?”

 

         “Concealed where?  I’m buck naked.”

 

         “I’ve heard there are places.”

 

         “This wasn’t an undercover ONI detail, Jamie.  Nothing’s concealed.”

 

         “I would have to agree.  Now lie down.”

 

         Lee laid back. 

 

         “No, the other . . . all right, that’s fine.”  Lee eyed Jamie questioningly as Jamieson stared at him.  “Your face is going to look nasty for a week or two.”

 

         “Yes.  I got pistol whipped.”

 

         “More than once,” Jamie observed.

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “Less than what, a hundred?”

 

         “Jamie, it’s nothing major.”

 

         “We’ll take an x-ray anyway.  Make sure no teeth are loose.  You might have a hairline jaw fracture.”

 

         “Jamie, my jaw’s fine as evidenced by the amount of talking we’ve been doing, don’t you think?”

 

         “No abdominal bruises.  Good.  I take it that you weren’t offered use of the facilities during your captivity.”

 

         “No, it doesn’t work that way most times.” 

 

         “Roll over toward the wall, Lee.”

 

         “Why?  You already examined my back.  Wait a second.  What the hell is that on the table?  Jamie are you mad?  A rape kit?”  Lee sat up abruptly.

 

         “Lee, I know this isn’t easy to talk about.”

 

         “There is nothing to talk about.”

 

         Lee started to get up off the table.  Jamie put out both hands to stop him.

 

         “Jamie, this is absurd.”

 

         “Lee, protest all you want but there’s dried semen and I’m pretty sure some traces of blood all over your privates and your underwear too.”

 

         “It’s not what you think, Jamie.”

 

         “Tell me what happened.”

 

         “No, it’s not necessary.”

 

         “As your CMO, I can assure you it is, that is if you wish to resume duties anytime in the next year.”

 

         “You don’t understand, Jamie.  It’s not just about me.”

 

         “Nothing you say to me leaves this room.”

 

         “Then why bring it in this room in the first instance?”

 

         “Your mental health, Lee.  That’s a part of the job requirement.”

 

         “I’ve been possessed by aliens and undergone less interrogation.”

 

         “Oh, I’ve tried.  Better experts have tried.”

 

         “So we can skip this.”

 

         “No, sir.”  Jamie stepped back from the table, gathered Lee’s still soggy clothes and threw them into the hallway.  “You explain, you get your clothes back.”

 

         “You son of a gun.”

 

         “Were you raped?” Jamie asked.

 

         “No.”

 

         “So I’m supposed to believe that what, you went in to protect the lady, but stopped to screw her first?”

 

         “It’s not impossible.”

 

         “I know you better than that, Captain.  When you are working, you don’t behave like that.    And then there’s the matter of blood traces.”

 

         “Women do bleed sometimes.”

 

         “I’ll just go ask the lady if she happens to have her menstrual cycle now.”  Jamie moved toward the door.

 

         “Jamie, stop.  She’s been through enough.”

 

         “I don’t doubt that, Lee, but it’s my job to know what you’ve been through.”

 

         “All right, all right.”  Lee paused.  “I was forced at gunpoint to do something that I would have been perfectly happy to do without it.  So was she.   Minus the audience and under different circumstances, of course.  Satisfied?”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “For Christie’s entertainment after he took his turn.”

 

         “Are you saying he’d raped her before what he forced you to do?”

 

         “Yes, I think you’d have to call it that.  She cooperated to try to stop him from hurting me, and he wasn’t nearly so violent that time, but I don’t think you could call it consensual by any stretch.  For god’s sake, he’d handcuffed her to the bed!”

 

         “You had to watch?”

 

         “Yes, I was handcuffed to the footboard.”

 

         “Why would he make you watch?”

 

         “Why the hell do you think?  To show me just how powerless I was to protect her or myself!    To humiliate us as much as he could.”  Lee paused.  “To show me how little control I had over the circumstances, even over my own body.”

 

         “I see.”

 

         “Do you really, Jamie?”

 

         “I think so, Lee.  In a way, he raped both of you.”

 

         “So help you, Jamie, if you put anything like that in my medical file . . . .”

 

         “I won’t.  What happened after he . . . he made you and she . . .”

 

         “He beat the crap out of her and raped her again.   He was infuriated at her for consenting to do what he directed, even after he had hurt me to force her to agree.  It was lunacy.”

 

         “I’m guessing that’s when those abrasions happened.”  He pointed to the marks left in Lee’s wrists by the handcuffs.

 

         “Yes, I tried to pull free.  I thought he might kill her.”

 

         “Then what happened?”

 

         “He switched it off like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  He actually spoke lovingly to her, helped her down the stairs and onto the dinghy and then the boat.”

 

         “And once on the boat?”

 

         “I failed her again.”

 

         “You saved her life, Lee.  She’d be on that sub now if not for you, subject to who knows what torture.  That’s not a failure.”

 

         “That doesn’t mean I didn’t fail her, Jamie.  She got me the tools to break free, then she provoked him to buy me time to do it.   I took too long to get to her.   He hurt her worse that time.”

 

         “You’re not a superhero, Lee.  You did everything you could reasonably do, I know that.  You know that.  I’m sure she knows it.”

 

         “I didn’t do enough.  The whole scheme was hare-brained from the beginning.  We were manipulated by Christie and by our own government’s agenda.”

 

         “Let’s keep the blood pressure down, Lee.  They’ll be plenty of time to sort things out later.  The Admiral isn’t taking it lying down, I assure you.”

 

         “I want my clothes now, Jamie.”

 

         “I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

         The doctor returned with some scrubs instead of Lee’s clothes.  “They’re at the laundry.  You’ll get them back in half an hour.”

 

         “Cool down time, Jamie?”

 

         “For you, not the clothes.”

 

         “Maybe you should give up medicine for comedy.  I’d like to see Kate before I get debriefed.”

 

         “She’s probably getting x-rayed now.”

 

         “Then we’ll find her or wait,” Lee insisted.

 

         Wait they did, another half an hour.  Lee paced.  At times, he fumed.  What he did not do was call the Admiral.

 

         Kate was very sleepy when she returned from x-ray.  The doctors whispered.  “She’s been given a sedative.  We’re going to fix the shoulder shortly, then move her to a room.  Doesn’t look like there’s any internal bleeding, but we want to watch to be sure.  She has some water in her lungs too.”

 

         “Sonofabitch held her under water too.”

 

         “You can have two minutes with her, but then we want to move her to a room.  I’ve arranged for a counselor to come later.”

 

         Lee bent down by the bed so that he didn’t hover above her.   “I am making you a promise, here and now.  I will make sure the truth about Dirk Christie is known.  You will live a normal life again.”

 

         “You sound like Nelson.  Big promises.  Delivery is a little harder and he’s an admiral.”

 

         “I’ll walk away from the Navy if I have to, I swear.  I’ll be on the phone with a reporter from the New York Times before I even see the brass and give them a chance to suppress this.”

 

         “It’s not worth it, Lee.  You’ll lose your career.”

 

         “Yes, it is worth it.  You are.  I know it’s hard right now, but I want you to promise me you’ll focus on the future, not the past.”

 

         “I’ll try.”

 

         “Not acceptable.”

 

         “I’ll do my best.”

 

         “I hate to interrupt this, but we need the exam room,” the staff doctor interjected.

 

         “That’s fine.  I’ve got urgent business to take care.  I’ll see you very soon, Kate.  Jamie will stay close and let me know if you need anything.”

 

         Jamie tucked his head in at the mention of his name.  “Oh, by the way, Kate, we found your dog.”

 

         Lee looked questioningly at Jamie.

 

         “Chip and I were posted up by the cut off to Kate’s house about to walk back to town when we heard an explosion.  I was concerned there might be people injured.  We found Buster, and luckily for us, an abandoned functioning car, so we could get him to a vet.   He’s a little worse for wear, but he’s going to make it,” Jamie added. 

 

         “Buster?”  Kate’s eyes teared up.

 

         “He’ll be waiting for you when you get out,”Jamie promised.

 

         “Hell, I’ll sneak him in to visit if you promise to make an effort to get well,” Lee said.

 

         Jamie and Lee were pushed out the door by the resident doctor before more could be said. 

 

 

       Chapter 19 - Big Shoes to Fill

 

 

         “Is Kowalski here?” Lee asked.

 

         “Yes, I was just going to suggest we check on him.”

 

         “You go, Jamie.  I’ll be up in a couple of minutes.  I need to make some phone calls.”

 

         “Lee, did you mean it about leaking details to the press?”

 

         “Leaking, no.  I’ll be going on the record.”

 

         “It could cost you your career.”

 

         “Then I’ll have to find another.”

 

         “You can’t be serious.  Talk to Admiral Nelson first.”

 

         “No, he made her a similar promise years ago that he didn’t keep.”

 

         “You mean a promise he couldn’t keep, because while keeping it cost a lot to one woman, it kept the Institute and Seaview afloat,” Jamie said.  “Hundreds of folks kept their livelihoods, their homes.”

 

         “Yes, I’m sure he was coerced by every nasty means possible, Jamie.  I know he wouldn’t break his word easily, but I don’t have what he does at risk.  I won’t be manipulated the same way.  Moreover, I’m not going to give them a chance to try.”

 

         As Lee spoke, a contingent of men wearing dress blues arrived.  “Commander Crane, we’re here to escort you to see Admiral Watson.”

 

         “I’ll be ready in thirty minutes, after my clothes are returned to me and I have a chance to visit with my injured crewman.”

 

         “We were told to bring you immediately, sir.”

 

         “Are you prepared take a commander wearing scrubs before the brass by force, Lieutenant Carson?”

 

         “We’ll wait fifteen minutes, sir.” 

 

         Lee enjoyed receiving the crisp salute.  “Then I’ll be back down here at 1645.  Lead on, Dr. Jamieson.”  

 

*   *    *

 

         “Kowalski, glad to see you.  How do you feel?” Lee asked.

 

         “Embarrassed, Sir.”

 

         “About what?”

 

         “Getting shot.  Being useless.”

 

         Lee held up his injured hand.  “I know how you feel.”

 

         “Did everything work out okay, Sir?”

 

         “It got a bit hairy, Kowalski, but we’ll survive.  Listen, I need to borrow your clothes.”

 

         “My pants are in the locker, but they had to cut the shirt off me.”

 

         “Doc, I’ll take yours.”

 

         “Captain, maybe you should rethink this?”

 

         “Your shirt, Jamie, now.”  Lee went to open the second story window as he spoke.  Then he glanced down at his feet with a disturbed look.

 

         “Damn.  Kowalski, what size are your shoes?”

 

         “Twelve.”

 

         “Boats, but they’ll have to do.  Jamie, you stay put until they come looking for me.  Understood?”

 

         “Technically, I’m not on duty, Lee.”

 

         “Then I’m asking you as a friend, please buy me some time?”

 

         “All right,” Dr. Jamieson conceded all the while shaking his head in opposition.   Lee whispered a few words into Jamie’s ear as he donned the doctor’s shirt.   The doctor nodded.  Lee was out the window in Kowalski’s pants and ill-fitting shoes moments later.

 

         “What’s that all about, Doc?”

 

         “Commander Lee Crane, wanting to right the wrongs of the world, damn the cost.”

 

         “The Skipper’s heart is always in the right place.  I trust him.”

 

         “So do I, Kowalski, so do I.  It’s just that doing the right thing might prove very costly to him.”

 

         “That’d never stop him.”

 

         “No, I suppose that’s what makes him the man he is,” Jamie said.

 

 

       Chapter 20 - Spilling the Beans

 

 

         Lee Crane stayed on base, locating an empty office with a telephone.  He called a friend from high school who’d gone to work for the NY Times, Lacey Caldwell.  She worked in features, so she brought a news editor on the call. 

 

         “You swear this is the truth, Lee?”

 

         “Every word, Lacey.  I’ll stand behind all of them.”

 

         “You may have to, Commander,” Ben Bernowski, a news editor added.  “The Navy will try to bury this, even with civilian reports of explosions off the coast.”

 

         “He’s good as his word,” Lacey offered.

 

         “They may try to ruin you, Commander.  Are you prepared for that?”

 

         “I’m well aware of what our government may do, and yes, I’ve made this commitment, absolutely,” Lee affirmed.

 

         “Damn the consequences?”

 

         “Yes, damn the consequences.”

 

         “Does Admiral Nelson know this yet?”

 

         “I couldn’t say for certain.  If he did, it wouldn’t change my position.”

 

         “You’d cede command of the Seaview to get this story out?  Why?” Bernowski asked.

 

         “Because it’s the right thing to do.  To keep a promise.”

 

         “All right, Commander.  We’ll roll this out as soon as we clear fact checking and editorial.  You are expressly agreeing that to the extent we can’t otherwise confirm facts, you will publicly source the story.    You further acknowledge that we have been recording this interview since I came on the line.”

 

         “Yes, on all counts, Mr. Bernowksi, and if you want the truth of it, I’d just as soon you’d source it from me and get it out before the Navy spins it.”

 

         “I’ll see what I can do, Commander.”

 

         “Thank you.  Lacey, you too.”

 

         “Don’t wait so long to call me next time, Lee.”

 

         “Sure thing, Lacey.  I might have plenty of time on my hands soon.”

 

         Lee hung up.  He lumbered towards headquarters, exhaustion finally taking over.  Two MAAs picked him up before he got there.  “Just in the nick of time, gentlemen.  I could use a lift about now.” 

 

         He accompanied them with no fuss and was ushered directly into an office occupied by Admiral Robert Watson.  Watson had been recently installed at ONI on what was likely a short term appointment as Watson headed towards retirement.  Lee had yet to work under him and knew little about his style of command.   Admiral Nelson sat with his back to the door.  “Admirals,” Lee acknowledged as he entered.

 

         Nelson jumped out of his chair to go to Crane, patting his arm.  “Lee, you look, well, I’ve seen you worse.  I’m so relieved to have you back.”

 

         “Take a chair, Crane,” Watson barked.  “Where have you been for the last forty-five minutes?”

 

         “Attending to personal matters, sir.”

 

          Nelson looked confused. 

 

         “Nothing to be concerned about, Admiral,” Lee said looking only at Nelson.

 

         “You knew an escort was waiting at the med center to bring you here.   You ditched them.  Why the deception?” Admiral Watson asked.

 

         “Indeed, why?” Lee teased the man.

 

         “I won’t suffer insubordination, Commander.  Tell me where you were and what you were doing.”

 

         “I was off duty at the time, sir.  Moreover, my mission for the Navy had been completed some time earlier.  I don’t believe I have any obligation to report my activities since I arrived on base.”

 

         “Your duty doesn’t cease until you’ve been debriefed, Crane, and you damn well know that.”

 

         “You know, come to think of it, I’m pretty certain I’ve only acted in a civilian capacity in this entire matter.  I had no official orders from anyone.  I was just helping a friend.”

 

         Watson glared toward Nelson for help.

 

         “Lee, there’s no reason to get defensive.  We’re all just relieved it worked out, that you and Anne are safe.”

 

         “Safe, Admiral?  Do you have the slightest clue what happened in the last several hours?”

 

         “Some.  The rest is why you are here for debriefing,” Nelson said.

 

         “Dr. Simon and I escaped with moments to spare.  That’s all there is to know.”

 

         “No, Commander.  What did Christie tell you about the People’s Republic when you were on that boat?  Did you overhear any conversations?  Learn about his contacts?   We want details,” Watson slapped the table.

 

         “I have none.”

 

         “That won’t suffice, Commander Crane.”

 

         Lee shrugged.  “That’s all I’ve got to say.”

 

         “This isn’t a game, Commander.  I know you’ve been through an ordeal, but this is necessary.  It’s a matter of national security,” Watson fumed.

 

         “With due respect, Sir, it’s not.  Christie’s dead.  The People’s Republic sub has been destroyed.  National security is doing just fine.”

 

         “The Joint Chiefs are meeting as we speak to decide how to handle this matter.  You are directly ordered not to speak about this outside the upward command chain until further notice.  Understood?” Watson commanded.

 

         “Understood and acknowledged, sir.  Now, if it wouldn’t trouble you, I’m in serious need of both rest and food.”

 

         “All right, but there will be a full debriefing later.   You can rest next door until we hear from the Joint Chiefs.  I’ll have my secretary bring you something to eat.”

 

         “Oh, please, Watson.  At least let me settle him into officer’s quarters for a bit.  You can see he’s hurting.”

 

         “Only on the condition that you stay with him, Harriman, and a guard will be posted.  I won’t have another disappearing act pulled on my watch.”

 

         “Lee, I assume that’s fine with you?”   Admirals Nelson and Watson both accepted Lee’s nod as an answer.

 

         “I’ll have the secretary arrange quarters and for food to be delivered shortly.  Give her your size too so she can get you into a proper uniform before you go before the Joint Chiefs.”

 

         “Yes, Admiral.  Thank you, Admiral.”

 

         Once accompanied to quarters, Lee headed directly to the bedroom where he laid down, fully clothed.  Nelson followed him.  “Hairy business.  You want to tell me about it?”

 

         “No.”

 

         “Come on, Lee.  I’ll find out sooner or later.”

 

         “Later.”

 

         “I could order you.”

 

         “You could try.”

 

         “All right, I’ll let you rest a while.  I can see you are in a state.”

 

         Lee fought the jumble of emotions he felt, worsened by exhaustion and pain.   He didn’t really want to strike out at Nelson.  He understood only too well the difference between Nelson’s intentions and ultimate actions.  At a certain level, he even respected what Nelson had done.  At another level, well, it wasn’t the first time Lee had seen or even been a scapegoat for his nation. If he was being honest, he would admit it probably wouldn’t be the last, unless the choice was taken from him, as it might well be as a consequence of his present commitment.  Losing the Seaview would be an enormous blow.  There’d be no Navy or ONI job to fall back on either. 

 

         Lee’s effort to nap lasted about fifteen minutes.  He couldn’t help reviewing what had happened, how it could have been avoided, how he might have done things differently.  So many people dead.  A full crew on the People’s Republic Sub.   All the players knew there would be no surrender.  Then there was also the troubling matter of how Christie knew where to find Kate.  Lee got up and took a long, hot shower.  He found fresh clothes waiting on the bed when he emerged.  Mother hen Nelson confronted him as soon as he exited the bedroom.

 

         “Feeling a little better now, Lee?”

 

         “Marginally.”

 

         The Admiral rarely heard any response to a health question other than “fine,” so he knew to tread carefully.  “Why don’t you come eat something then?”

 

         Lee lumbered quietly toward the kitchen table.  Nelson sat down opposite him, gauging Lee’s mood.  Lee viewed Nelson’s glare rather differently, as pressuring him to talk soon. 

 

         Nelson broke the awkward silence first.  “So Jamie tells me that you really aren’t banged up all that badly for a change.  He was quite relieved, as was I.”

 

         “No, that privilege went to Kate instead.”

 

         “Jamie said that last he saw her, she was resting comfortably.”

 

         Lee angrily swept his dish off the table into the wall.

 

         “Lee, what’s wrong?  What set you off so?”

        

         “The fantasy world you live in,” he said as he pushed back from the table.

 

         “Meaning what?”

 

         “Jamie told you what you wanted to hear, Admiral, no more, no less.”

 

         “All right, I’ll take your word for that.  What should he have told me?”

 

         Lee huffed a minute.  “She’s a civilian, Admiral.  She wasn’t prepared or trained to endure the things that happened, and I can assure you she’s not likely to be resting comfortably any time soon!”

 

         “You either, apparently.  Look, Lee, you can leave me guessing, or you can tell me what happened, but I don’t appreciate being the whipping boy without knowing why I’ve been chosen.”

 

         “Don’t worry, Admiral.  I have bigger fish to fry just now.”

 

         “Meaning what?”

 

         “How did Christie know where to find Kate?”

 

         “I couldn’t say.  She’d been at that house for quite some time, so it’s possible that he had people track her earlier.”

 

         “If that was the case, why not carry through on the threats to kill her for testifying before now?   Why wait until some random act of nature frees you from jail?”

 

         “Maybe he wanted to do it himself?  Maybe Christie wasn’t sure if he really wanted to carry through with his threat?  Whatever else I could say about the man, he once truly was devoted to her.”

 

         “No, something isn’t right.  He knew she was in the Federal Witness Protection Program.  He’s also smart enough to know that once he had escaped and remained at large, she’d be moved to a safe house until he’d been recaptured.”

 

         “Maybe he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t go?”

 

         “Oh, Admiral, neither of us are that naive!  He knew because he was told where she was!”

 

         “The U.S. Marshal’s office would know where she was, which I suppose means the Justice Department would have access too.”

 

         “Those are the obvious answers, Admiral, but maybe too obvious.  Let’s think it all the way through.  Just because the initial information went through Justice doesn’t mean it wasn’t improperly leaked.”

 

         “True enough.  It also could have been shared with numerous other agencies from the FBI to ONI.”

 

         “So maybe the right question isn’t where Christie got the info, but why he wanted it in the first place?”

 

         “Revenge, Lee.”

 

         “That’s certainly a part of it, but does it make sense by itself?”

 

         Nelson shrugged.

 

         “Remember, five years ago, Dirk Christie was willing to sell out his country for money.  Now he’s free, he’s escaped.  Now he needs money for more reasons than ever.  His company and assets are gone,” Lee said.

 

         “There’s that Swiss bank account.”

 

         “Maybe, Admiral, but he has to get there to get the money.  He can’t leave from a U.S. departure point as he has no passport.”

 

         “Those problems can be fixed.”

 

         “Absolutely, but it’s expensive.  Who helps him and for what reasons?”

 

         “His mob connections, I would think, Lee.”

 

         “Possible, I suppose.  But according to Kate, his explanation for conspiring with the People’s Republic was that he wanted to fund his exit from the company to get out from under mob control that he was sure would soon be discovered.”

 

         “That doesn’t mean he didn’t resort to those contacts now.  We have no reason to believe he ever broke off his mob connections.   Anne’s being shot at was more likely a mob effort than a foreign government’s.  His trial lawyer was a well known mob defense lawyer.  Do you know anything about Christie’s father, Lee?”

 

         “Okay, maybe his father is willing to help him.  Maybe the father has contacts who can get information from the Marshal’s office.  Maybe the father is willing to give Christie lots of money to flee the country.  The flaw in this line of reasoning is that it doesn’t entirely comport with what actually followed.  Christie obviously contacted the People’s Republic.  We know he didn’t do that through his family connections.  Clearly revenge is still paramount on his list, but revenge upon whom, Admiral?”

 

         “Anne, obviously.  He headed straight for Anne.”

 

         “You and I know little of what he did before he arrived in Maine, but we do know one thing he did earlier.   He made a threatening call to you.  It wasn’t the first time Christie threatened you either.”

 

         “No.”

 

         “He was deadly serious about it the last time, Admiral.”

 

         “You’ve put those pieces together, have you?”

 

         “Kate told me.”

 

         “And I never did.  Lee, please understand that the time my concerns weren’t the whys of what happened, but getting you right again.  Later, it just didn’t seem to be important.  Christie was convicted and it all was over.”

 

         “We never did learn precisely how I was found and taken.”

 

         “No,” Nelson conceded. 

 

         “Admiral, I think there may be a link between now and then.  That link isn’t in the Marshal’s Office.  It’s in the Navy, and very possibly ONI.”

 

         “You believe there is a mole in our midst?”

 

         “How did we end up here in Maine?  Did you push it or did ONI encourage it?   Why did I end up at Kate’s house instead of the U.S. Marshals?  Why did the Navy keep you from intervening but let me go?   Why did Christie not seem surprised to find me at Kate’s when she and I had no connection until last week, but also disappointed not to find you?  Why was Naval Intelligence involved at all?”

 

         “I’d have said it was a perfect storm, Lee, but the more we talk about it, the more I think coincidence — by which I mean the hurricane — only started the ball rolling.”

 

         “How about rewinding to the beginning then, as you experienced it?” Lee asked.

 

         “Fine.  Let me just get some fresh coffee for us first.”

 

 

Chapter 21 - The Admiral’s Take

 

         “Before we knew that you were missing in the storm and maybe even before you in fact were, I received notification from ONI about Christie’s disappearance.  At the time, it was unclear if he was among the dead at the prison or had escaped.  I thought to try to contact you then, but I decided to wait for more information.”

 

         “Thus continuing to avoid explaining to me his connection to that whole miserable People’s Republic affair?”

 

         “Yes, Lee, it is something I should have told you after you recovered.  At the time, I didn’t perceive that Christie would ever pose a threat to you again.  I was wrong and I apologize for that.  Anyway, ONI agreed to keep me posted.  The next day, ONI confirmed that Christie and several others were missing.  Without knowing for certain whether Anne was alive, I asked Bob Watson to personally ensure that the Marshals were made aware of the potential threat to her.  Before I heard back from him, I received a threatening phone call from Christie.  I immediately called Watson so he could follow up on it.  I also asked Chip to find you.  He couldn’t.  He notified both the Coast Guard and ONI.”

 

         “If I know him, he probably also notified the FBI and every police department in Maine.”

 

         “Probably the Boy Scouts too, Lee.  Fortunately, you got a message to the Coast Guard within twenty-four hours, although Chip and I were both rather upset that you didn’t give your whereabouts.”

 

         “Well, if I’d have known your concerns, maybe I would have.  Sorry, that was petty of me.  I’m a little tired.  So you knew I was safe, or at least healthy.  What happened next, Admiral?”

 

         “By the following morning, ONI had confirmed that Christie was on the loose.  That was all they could tell me, aside from that they were following up on leads about his possible whereabouts.  Frankly, at that point, I wasn’t upset about not knowing your whereabouts.  If nobody knew, I presumed you were as safe as possible.”

 

         “But for the bizarre coincidence of where I landed, you were right.  What about you?  ONI or the feds must have wanted to put you under protection?” Lee asked.

 

         “Yes, of course.  They wanted me on a secured Naval base.  I declined the offer.  I felt the Institute was safe enough.  Several days later, you returned home, Lee.”

 

         “And you immediately wanted to go get Kate, but I balked.”

 

         “My desire to go to Anne was pure gut instinct at the time, based on my feeling guilty.  Then after you left my office, I heard back from Bob Watson.  First, he confirmed what I’d learned from you, that Anne was alive.  Second, we were strongly encouraged to intervene on her behalf.”

 

         “Why, Sir?”

 

         “The Marshal’s Office concluded that Anne violated the terms of the Program.  She had yet to report to the safe house and they had reason to believe that she didn’t intend to report.  They also had learned of your presence at her house the prior week.  They contended that also was a violation of the Program.”

 

         “But we’d never even met before,” Lee said.

 

         “True enough.  I suppose someone simply assumed a connection because of yours to me.”

 

         “I suppose that Mr. Gurney must have given the Marshal’s Office my name.  I don’t think he would have seen any connections, however.  I doubt he even knows who Kate really is,” Lee said.

 

         “That suggests that someone in the Marshal’s office made the connection or spoke to someone else who helped them make it.  It might have been the Justice Department, FBI or even ONI.”

 

         “Possible, Admiral, but I can’t imagine they’d refuse to protect Kate without confirming a connection.  Who was it they spoke to and why didn’t they make it clear that our contact was coincidental, that we’d never met or spoken before?”

 

         “Lee, I have no answers to these questions although now I wish I’d thought to ask some of them earlier.  It wasn’t until I’d sent you ahead and I was on base that I learned about the sub that had been hovering off the Canadian coast.  At that point, I knew I’d been manipulated, but there was little I could do.”

 

         “What were you told the plan was, Admiral?”

 

         “Once I was on base, I was taken to a conference room with Bob Watson.  Two MAAs were positioned outside the door as I entered.   Then I learned there wasn’t going to be any conference call.  Bob laid out what was happening.  Bob explained that they had tied the phone number used to threaten me to calls made to the People’s Republic embassy.   That tie was enough for him and the Joint Chiefs to develop a plan, one Bob told me I wouldn’t like at a time when I was in no position to stop it.”

 

         Lee glared silently, waiting for the Admiral to continue.

 

         “They figured that Christie would be rendezvousing with that sub.  It was unclear to them what his intentions as to Anne were.”

 

         “What did they think the possibilities were, Admiral?”

 

         “He planned to kill her and leave or he planned to take her with him.  She might have been of value to him with the People’s Republic.  They also considered that she might be complicit in going.  I assured them that wasn’t the case, but it didn’t matter to what they’d already set in motion.”

 

         “Using her as bait to draw that sub into U.S. waters, you mean?” Lee asked.

 

         “Not just her.   They weren’t convinced that that sub would violate U.S. waters for Christie, Swenson or Anne.   They thought of better bait.”

 

         “Me.”

 

         “Yes, I’m sorry.  Having learned that you had a connection with Anne from the Marshal’s inquiries, and knowing your history, they let me -- encouraged me -- to put you there to protect her while not permitting me to go with you.  Lee, I went ballistic when I understood what was happening.  I was assured that all kinds of safeguards had been put in place and I insisted on some of my own.”

 

         “Besides our men on FS1, exactly what were those, because I didn’t see any?” Lee asked.

 

         “A SEAL unit was stationed at an airfield minutes away from the house.  Before you or Anne returned to her house, ONI bugged it so they would know whether to send in the SEALs. ”

 

         Lee’s head whipped to the side  “What did you just say?”

 

         “ONI installed listening devices at the house so they would know if intervention by the SEALS was needed.”

 

         Lee picked up the nearest object, a dish, and hurled it across the room. 

 

         “Lee, what’s the matter?”

 

         “Either you were lied to or . . . . how could they?  I . . . . Oh, Christ.  Admiral Watson only asked about what I learned from Christie on the boat, not in the house.  They listened to the whole thing, but never sent the SEALS inside.  Why?  How could they?”

 

         “Lee, I don’t understand.  What did they listen to?”

 

         “Where to begin?  I can’t even.  Kate and I, we were hurting long before we got on that boat.”

 

         “I had no clue.  I was with Bob Watson nearly the whole time.  I don’t think he knew either,” Lee.

 

         “Or he didn’t care to know.  The brass just wanted us taken to that sub, damn the consequences.”

 

         “Just to bait a People’s Republic sub into our waters?” Nelson asked.

 

         “Yes.”

 

         Nelson paced as he reasoned aloud.  “And I sent you into the lion’s den!”  Nelson paced some more.  “But why was it so important to do that?  As far as I know, there are no imminent threats against us from the People’s Republic.”

 

         “The root of all evil,” Lee said rubbing his fingers to his thumb.

 

         “Money?”

        

         “Funding.  Congress has been squeezing the military budget tighter and tighter.  Maybe highlighting a threat to national security reverses that?”

                 “Someone risked your life and Anne’s just for funding?”

 

         “Kind of upsetting, Admiral?”

 

         Nelson had turned six shades of crimson. 

 

         “I made a decision earlier, before I even fully understood the scope of what was going on.  You deserve to know about it directly from me before it becomes public,” Lee said.

 

         “Don’t do anything hasty, Lee.  I’ll find out who manipulated us and take care of it.”

 

         “It’s not just about that.  I’ve taken steps to make certain that Dirk Christie’s treason, both the past and present, is exposed.”

 

         “Lee, you are under orders not to discuss the matter outside the command chain.”

 

         “I wasn’t under those orders at the time.”

 

         “When you disappeared from the hospital, Lee?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “Why?”

 

         “For Kate, justice for Kate.”

 

         “Nothing you can do will bring back the three years she’s lost, Lee.”

 

         “No, but if she is out from under threats of retaliation by the mob for exposing Christie, she might have a future, Sir.”

 

         “With Christie dead, the Witness Protection Program will be better able to protect her than before.  You don’t need to put your career on the line like this.”

 

         “No, Admiral.  You don’t understand.  If Kate has to go back to that kind of isolated life, if she can’t do the work she loves, after what she’s been through, I don’t think she’ll make it.”

 

         “Does that mean you’re ready to tell me exactly what happened, Lee?”

 

         “No, not now.  Just accept my word that this is how it has to be.”

 

         “Lee, how much of the story have you leaked?  Did you relate your suspicions about the Navy’s complicity in the matter?”

 

         “Why do you want to know?”

 

         “So I can do damage control,” Nelson said.

 

         “I’ll take the fall for any and all of it, Sir.”

 

         “You may want to, but damn it, I was used as well!  You were put at risk and I was the tool for it!”

 

         “There’s too much at risk for the Institute for you to do this, Sir.”

 

         “We’ll find a way to get by without federal funding.”

 

         “Admiral, we’re being allowed to operate a nuclear powered submarine armed with deadly warheads in United States waters.   You could be shut down forever with a slash of a pen.”

 

         “Damn it, Lee, I know.”

 

         “It’s a vulnerability that has resulted in painful choices for you more than once.  I understand that now, better than ever.”

 

         “I hate it, Lee.”

 

         “So I do I, but there’s no reason for me to take the Institute down with me.  I’ll submit my resignation right now, so you can distance the Institute.”

 

         “No, Lee, I won’t accept that.  Let’s see how things play out before we make any dramatic gestures.  Maybe they won’t be needed.  There may be things I can do.  Let me try.”

 

         “There are a couple of things I do need to ask of you, Sir.”

 

         “What?”

 

         “Dr. Jamieson will need both logistical and financial assistance.  I’d like you to authorize Angie to give him what he needs.”

 

         “You could do that.”

 

         “Any non-Seaview related expenses exceeding $1,000 require your direct approval.”

 

         “Oh, right.  Is that all you’re going to tell me, Lee?”

 

         “It would be better for all concerned to do it this way.”

 

         “All right.  What else, Lee?”

 

         “I’d like to borrow your DynaTAC and the charger.”

 

         “There’s a phone on the desk . . . oh . . . I see.”

 

         “I’m not going to use it for anything that will tie you to my leaks, Admiral.  In fact, I just want to take steps to find one.  I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to Admiral Watson about anything we’ve discussed until I have some friends at ONI dig a little deeper.”

 

         “Certainly, Lee.  Good hunting.”  

 

 

Chapter 22 — Facing the Brass

 

 

         Harriman Nelson left Lee Crane shortly after their conversation.   Minutes later, he’d commandeered an office and a secretary, a timid woman who seemed terrified of him.   Nelson dialed his own phone number at the Institute.  “Hold on for instructions, Angie.  Do not hang up.  Miss Adams, Dr. Will Jamieson is at your medical center.  Get him on the phone ASAP and connect him to line 1.  Angie, arrange whatever Will asks for, no questions asked, no dollar limits.”

 

         Nelson then made several other phone calls.  Ms. Adams stood at the door gesturing during one of these.

 

         “Hold on a minute, Jiggs.  Yes, what it is it?”

 

         “Dr. Jamieson would like to speak with you on line 3,” she whispered.

 

         “Thanks.  Jiggs, I’ll have to call you back later.”

 

         “Will, how is Anne?”

 

         “Medically speaking, Admiral, she’s stable.  The Captain thinks — and I agree — that she would be better off elsewhere.”

 

         “Lee doesn’t want her questioned?”

 

         “You could say he is in his protective mode, yes, and I agree with his reasons.”

 

         “Where do you plan to take Anne?  If she’s well enough for the trip, maybe we can take her to Santa Barbara.”

 

         The moment of stony silence that followed let Nelson know the answer before Jamieson spoke it.  “Admiral, I think it would be best if you didn’t know her destination.”

 

         “I don’t like it, but you’re probably right for the time being.  How soon will this happen in case I need to buy you time?”

 

         “A medivac helicopter is already here.  I just needed Angie to guarantee payment from the Institute.  We should be gone in five minutes.  I wanted you to know at least that much.”

 

         All that remained now was to wait.   That was assuming that Lee hadn’t gone anywhere.  He wouldn’t try to duck the guards outside quarters, would he?  Concerned, Nelson briskly walked back toward Officer’s Quarters.   On his way there, he ran into a master-at-arms waiting with a jeep.  “Admiral Watson is waiting for you, sir.”

 

         “What about Captain Crane?”

 

         “He was escorted inside a few minutes ago.”

 

         Nelson sighed in relief as he heard a helicopter take off, even as he worried that Lee was about to hit a wall of hostility.

 

         “Nelson, so glad you could join us again,” Bob Watkins said with annoyance. 

“The Joint Chiefs have been waiting.” 

 

         Nelson eyed the video set up unhappily.  Well, at least they would see Lee’s bruised and battered face.  Maybe that would make someone sit up and notice the stupidity of what had occurred.

 

         Admiral Watson recited who was “attending” for the record.  Brief greetings were exchanged by all except Captain Crane who sat with a scowl planted on his face.  General Parker took the lead. 

 

         “This was a very sloppy operation.  Civilian fishermen have already reported hauls of large amounts of debris to the local authorities and the news media.   We had to set up a no fly zone to keep the news choppers out of the area while we try to collect the bodies, but it won’t be long before some civilian finds an arm or leg in his fishing net.  We need to get the party line on this operation straight and do it quickly.”

 

         “What’s holding that up, dare I ask?” Nelson floated.

 

         “Only Commander Crane and the woman know what really happened out there.  I hear he’s been reluctant to divulge details.”

 

         “With due respect, General, as I previously conveyed to Admiral Watson, there are no useful details in my possession, at least none that relate to national security.”

 

         “You didn’t learn anything about Christie’s contacts with the People’s Republic?  His plans?” General Parker asked.

 

         “No, sir.”

 

         “Did you try to glean such matters?”

 

         “No, sir.”

 

         “I understand that you are an ONI agent, Commander Crane.  Why would you not use the opportunity you were given to gather intelligence?”

 

         Lee Crane’s dark complexion could barely conceal the flushing of his face.  He breathed in deeply, trying to keep his temper in check.  “Perhaps I was too busy trying to stay alive, General, or more significantly trying to keep the civilian who we chose to put at ridiculous risk alive.  Sirs.”

 

         “Commander, I can see that you’ve been injured, and I’m sorry that the woman apparently was too, but there are greater stakes.  I know you understand that,” General Parker said.

 

         “No, Sir, I do not.  I do not understand one thing about this ridiculous operation other than its ultimate goal being about extracting more money from Congress, damn the players.”

 

         “That’s enough, Commander Crane,” Admiral Watson glared. 

 

         “Might I suggest that we give Commander Crane some time to calm down and think about his future while we discuss other details?”  General Parker offered.

 

         Admiral Watson sent his adjutant Lieutenant Robson outside with Crane along with a whispered warning.  “You come back here and act with the decorum I expect of a Naval officer Crane or so help you, I’ll see you stripped of rank and find a way to make certain that you never set foot on the Seaview again.  I’m an inch away from doing that anyway.”

 

         Lee stifled a chuckle as he believed much of what Admiral Watson promised was inevitable anyway. 

 

* * *

 

         “Nelson, is Crane going to be a problem?” General Parker asked.

 

         “He’s very upset, Gene.  I can’t say I blame him.  You, all of you, did a beautiful job manipulating me.  I put my finest officer at risk for your little game.  He and Dr. Simon could easily have ended up dead.  I’ve been given cause to believe that she may not fully recover from her injuries.”

 

         “Is that so, Bob?”

 

         “I haven’t received a full status report on her condition yet.  I was led to believe that she had been stabilized, however.”

 

         “Well, if we need to spin what’s out there, we’ll need her cooperation, won’t we?  What are we doing to secure that?”

 

         “I think you’ll be hard pressed to get that, Gene, nor do I believe you could have the nerve to ask it!” Nelson thumped his fist on the desk.

 

         “Harriman, I understand your point of view, I know the history here,” Admiral Frank Pelmore said.   “I don’t expect her to jump on board with the program.  I just want to make sure that she . . . how should I say this?”

 

         “I can say it for you, Frank.  How we can be sure she doesn’t know what really occurred and if she does, that she won’t expose this shallow little drama for what it was?  The answer is that you can’t.”

 

         “Unacceptable,” Admiral Watson said.  “We’ll interview her as soon as the doctors allow it.  Give me thirty seconds and we’ll know when that will be.”

 

         Nelson rolled his blue eyes upward at the ceiling, knowing what was about to happen, as he had heard the helicopter minutes earlier.   Mutters of “how, when, who, find her” were all that he picked up from the brief telephone conversation Bob Watson had with some poor soul at the medical center.

 

         “She’s been transferred off base,” Watson stated glumly.

 

         “How could that happen?” General Parker asked.

 

         “I’ll have to take some blame for that,” Admiral Watson admitted.  “I hadn’t placed any restrictions on her being moved.  I didn’t think her condition made it likely.  I appear to have been mistaken.”

 

         “Harriman, do you know where she is?” Admiral Pelmore asked.

 

         “No.”

 

         “Is that because you were not involved?”

 

         Nelson’s eyes gave away the answer to Frank Pelmore.

 

         “And you saw nothing improper in facilitating her removal from base?”

 

         “She’s a civilian, Frank.  Her personal doctor made it clear to me that she would fare better elsewhere.”

 

         “I suppose you’re going to tell me that you don’t know where she’s been taken, that you never even asked?”

 

         “Oh, you know me better than that, Frank.  I asked.  I even tried to pick the location.  That said, I’m honestly in the dark.”

 

         “Let me guess.  Crane knows.”

 

         “I’m not certain of that, Frank.  I rather suspect he doesn’t.  After all, you can’t order a man to tell you something he doesn’t know.”

 

         “He’s a slick one,” General Parker said.

 

         “Yes gentlemen, well, you can see why I’d do just about anything to keep him.”

 

         “All right, why don’t we discuss how to deal with the media.  We’ll bring Crane back in later and figure out how to deal with him.  Is that acceptable, Bob?”  General Parker asked.

 

         “I suppose,” he grumbled. 

 

* * * *

         Out in the adjutant’s office, Lee Crane paced. 

 

         “Can I get you something to drink, Commander?  Coffee, water?”

 

         “Coffee would be great.”

 

         Lt. Robson returned in a few seconds. 

 

         “Thanks.”

 

         “I just want to let you know how sorry I am that things spun so out of control.”

 

         “Yeah, well that makes four of us as far as I can tell.  What an asinine plan!”

 

         “Dr. Simon, will she be okay, Commander?  I mean, in time?”

 

         Lee’s head twisted, wondering what this man knew.  “What do you think?”

 

         Robson was clearly upset.  “I . . . I think that . . . God, I don’t know.”  The man began to tear up.  “My daughter . . . it took years . . . a lot of counseling and family support.”

 

         “How do you know what happened, Lieutenant?”

 

         “It’s a small base, sir.”

 

          “Does Admiral Watson know?”

 

         “No, sir, I don’t believe so.  He was only informed of her general medical status.”

 

         “Lieutenant, since you understand the situation, might I dare ask you a few questions?”

 

         “Within reason, sir, certainly.”

 

         “I just am trying to understand a few things about this operation that puzzle me.”

 

         “It would have to be unclassified material, Commander.”

 

         “I’d like to know exactly why no earlier intervention was ordered, intervention that could have prevented what happened to Kate.”

 

         “I’m sorry, Commander.  I’m not clear on what you’re asking?”

 

         “Dr. Simon’s house was supposed to bugged, correct?”

 

         “Yes, sir.”

 

         “Then I would assume that recordings were made?”

 

         “Yes, sir.”

 

         “Was Admiral Watson listening to events as they happened?”

 

         “No, sir.”

 

         “Was there any communication between Admiral Watson and whomever was listening to those bugs?”

 

         “Only one that I know of, sir.”

 

         “Do you know what it was about?”

 

         “Yes, I was there for it.  The Admiral was told that you had made it clear that you were not following the plan that Nelson relayed, but had decided to try to defend Dr. Simon from being taken at all.” 

 

         “How did Admiral Watson react to that?”

 

         “He was upset.  He said that if you got yourself killed playing hero, it was your problem, that he didn’t want to hear another word until you were being transported or got yourself killed.”

 

         “So much for the SEAL unit standing by, huh, Lieutenant?”

 

         “Admiral Watson didn’t mean it and he backed down a moment later.  He told the agent to call in the troops to ensure your safety if necessary.”

 

         “Right, just my safety, forget Dr. Simon?”

 

         “Admiral Watson never expressly said that.”

 

         “Yet there was no further communication with the person listening in, Lieutenant?”

 

         “Only to report that you were being transferred to a boat.”

 

         Lee shook his head.  “Do you know where these audiotapes are?”

 

         “They haven’t been delivered yet.”

 

         “Who has them?”

 

         “An ONI agent.”

 

         “Do you know his name?”

 

         “No, Admiral Watson never mentioned it.”

 

         “Will you let me know when those recordings arrive, Lieutenant?”

 

         “I . . .”

 

         “I’m not asking you to do anything with them, Lieutenant.”

 

         “May I ask why, sir?”

 

         “Let’s just say that I have a major issue with the troops not having been called in earlier.”

 

         Lt. Robson looked ill.  “You mean something happened earlier?”

 

         Lee nodded.

 

         “I’ll see what I can find out, sir.”

 

         “Thank you.  Now, if I could have a few moments of privacy, I’d appreciate it.”

 

         “I’m under orders to make certain you don’t leave the premises, sir.  But I suppose I can see the door well enough from the office across the hall, so I’ll go make calls from there, if that will do.”

 

         “Thank you Lieutenant.  By the way, you don’t happen to know where my Exec is, do you?”

 

         “The Officer’s Club.  He heard the cook makes a fine lobster roll.”

 

         “That’s Mr. Morton, all right,” Lee smiled.

 

Chapter 23 - Hunting Down a Traitor

 

         Lee used Nelson’s DynaTAC to follow up on inquiries he had set in motion earlier.   His good friend and fellow ONI agent, Brad Center, had made significant progress.

 

         “Are you sitting down, Lee?”

 

         “Do I need to?”

 

         “This could take a few minutes and you’re not going to like much of it.”

 

         “I’m sitting.”  Lee had perched on the edge of the desk.

 

         “First, I accessed the records to the number that Christie’s initial threat to Nelson came from, the number which had previously been requested investigated by Admiral Watson.  In addition to the call made to Nelson, there were several other calls made from that number including five to the Embassy of the People’s Republic in Washington.  This information was forwarded to Admiral Watson, but one call was omitted from the list sent to him.  Are you still sitting?”

 

         “I am.”

 

         “It’s a call to the main switchboard of ONI.  I haven’t been able to track down where that call was routed to yet.  It’s proving a little complicated to get that information and keep it quiet.  So far, I only know it was a very short call.   Next, I followed up on the location of the number the call came from.  It’s a hotel room in the DC area.  The bill was paid with the credit card of a produce company’s truck driver.  The man was reported missing during the hurricane and his truck was later found abandoned near Union Station.”

 

         “Sounds like a good chance of a mole communicating with Christie, but it also sounds like a dead end if that’s all the calls.”

 

         “Not so fast, buddy.  Time for a little forward thinking.  There was a later threatening call to Nelson.”

 

         “Probably from a different hotel, using a different stolen credit card number.  I don’t see how that will help.”

 

         “Well, you’re correct in assuming that Christie was on the move.  What you’re wrong about is the kind of phone he’s using next.”

 

         “Pay phone?”

 

         “No.  He’s really on the move now.”

 

         “A DynaTAC mobile?” Lee asked.

 

         “Bingo.”

 

         “They’re incredibly expensive and not easy to get quickly.”

 

         “True.  Lee, you do know who owns the lion’s share of DynaTACs?”

 

         “The guy with the biggest payroll:  Uncle Sam.”

 

         “Pass go.  Collect $200.  The number for the second call to Nelson is from a DynaTAC leased to ONI, one that is missing from the property room with no requisition form.”

 

         “Shit.  Christie really is working with someone inside.  Do you know who, Brad?”

 

         “Aw, can’t I keep you on tenterhooks and tell you about all the calls on that phone, like to Swenson’s relatives in Minnesota, a couple to the Scamorza family, two more to the People’s Republic, and saving the best for last, one call from an ONI conference room -- not booked by anyone that day -- and six later calls to another DynaTAC number.”

 

         “Let me guess, this is an ONI one and it wasn’t properly checked out either.”

 

         “No, and it’s still missing too.”

 

         “I don’t suppose you’ve tried calling it yourself.”

 

         “I think that would be unwise, Lee.”

 

         “So we’re back to square one, except we’re certain the mole is ONI?”

 

         “Nope, Lee, you must be tired amigo.  I gave you the clue and you missed it.”

 

         “Enlighten me, Brad.”

 

         “Who is the ONI agent who gave Admiral Watson the first call list -- the one that omitted the ONI main number from the list?”

 

         “I don’t know.  Who?”

 

         “The same person whose office number responded to a call last week from the U.S. Marshal’s office, presumptively about Lee Crane’s presence at Dr. Anne Simon’s house in Maine.”

 

         “Tell me who already, Brad.”

 

         “And waste the display of my investigative prowess, never.  Now it’s time to go back further.  I check this person’s office and home phone records going back six years.  You owe me big time, pal.”

 

         “Anything you want, Brad.”

 

         “The Cobra.”

 

         “You come out west and pick her up, she’s yours.”

 

         “Damn bucket of bolts would fall apart before I got through Nevada.”

 

         “For certain.  Why do you think I call her my baby?  Cause she’s high maintenance.”

 

         “I’ll come up with something else,” Brad said.

 

         “Good, then how about the big reveal soon, because I’m likely to be standing in front of the Joint Chiefs any minute.  There or before a court martial.”

 

         “Over the last three years, I see periodic collect calls from Beaufort Penitentiary to the ONI office number, about once every six months.”

 

         “That’s unusual, but hardly damning.  This guy could be keeping in contact with an informant.”

 

         “Right, so I go further back trying to cross reference any numbers I can attach to Christie for the two years before and through his trial.   That’s a lot of numbers.   If only I’d been smart enough to start at the end of the range.”

 

         “What did you find, Brad?”

 

         “A call to Christie’s private home number when he was out on bond before trial.  That’s a completely illegal contact pending a trial.”

 

         “Right, you have to go through the lawyers then,” Lee said.

 

         “Unless, of course, the call isn’t related to the investigation or trial.  Lee, are you still sitting?  No, of course, not.  I know you.  Sit, sit down now.”

 

         “Okay, I’m sitting.”

 

         “In a chair, Lee, not on the corner of a desk.”

 

         “Am I that predictable? . . .  I’m in a chair now, honestly.”

 

         “This agent, he came to Maine with Admiral Watson, bringing along a truck full of surveillance equipment.  He’s not a field agent, but a station analyst.”

 

         “Brad, the name already, damn it!”

 

         “Jonathan Farrell.”

 

         “I don’t know him.  Farrell?  He’s not . . . oh shit . . . tell me he’s not related to Joe Farrell?”

 

         “I’d like to, Lee, but there’s a framed picture of his brother in his desk drawer.  I think they were twins.”

 

         “Damn.  I . . . I need to think about this a bit.  Stop digging, Brad.”

 

         “Lee, you couldn’t have saved him.”

 

         “I don’t know that.”

 

         “Even if you broke orders and confessed, Lee, you all would have ended up executed.  You know that.”

 

         “I’ll never know for certain.  I only know that it should have been me, not him.”

 

         “The game doesn’t work that way, bro.”

 

         “I’m tired of the game,” Lee said.

 

         “Lee, buddy, it wasn’t your fault, and even if it was, Farrell had no business putting a civilian at risk to get at you.”

 

         “I’ve got to go, Brad.  I need to think.  Thanks for going that extra mile for me.”

 

         “Anytime, but Lee, he’s still up there.  He may fear he’ll be discovered.  He may still be after you.  You need to take steps or I will.”

 

         “Give me the number of the missing DynaTAC.”

 

         “888-539-0947.  Promise to keep me posted, Lee.”

 

         “I will.”

 

         “I mean it.  I want you to check back within two hours or I’ll go to Nelson.”

 

         Lee never heard Brad’s last words.  He’d heard too much already.  Lee also barely noticed Lt. Robson’s return to the room.

 

         “I’ve been advised that you’ll be wanted back in the conference room again in a few minutes, sir.   Also, about our discussion earlier, Commander, I remember something that now strikes me as odd.  The ONI agent in charge of the surveillance said something reassuring back to Admiral Watson.  He said not to worry too much about you because Christie would know you and your value, that he wouldn’t kill you.”

 

         “Why did that seem odd to you?”

 

         “Well, this was before Christie arrived at the house.  How could the agent be so certain Christie or his men wouldn’t have shot you long before they saw your face . . . unless Christie expected to find you there . . .  but how could he?”

 

         “How, indeed?” Lee asked with dripping sarcasm that seemed to befuddle Robson.   “Look, do you have any idea where I can find this ONI agent?”

 

         “Yes, he just dropped off the tapes.”

 

         “Is he still here?”

 

         “No, but he has to stay on base for debriefing just like you.  He asked the way to the mess hall, so you might find him there.”

 

         “Any idea of where his van is parked?”

 

         “Parking lot on the side would be my guess,” Lt. Robson said.

 

         “I’d like a master-at-arms to meet one of my men by that van to secure potential criminal evidence.  Give me one minute to arrange my end of this while you get the MAA and I’ll be right out.”

 

         Lee used the base phone this time.  He called Chip’s DynaTAC.

 

         “Chip, I need a favor.   Find Sharkey.  He’s to meet up with a master-at-arms outside the admin building.  They are to find and post up as close as possible to an unmarked white van, probably with Virginia or DC tags.  Meanwhile, I want you to look for a dead ringer for Joe Farrell in the Officer’s Mess and keep him in your sights, no matter what.  I’ll be back in touch soon.   Call me on the Admiral’s mobile if anything interesting comes up.”

 

         Lee opened the door and smiled at Lt. Robson.  “Once more unto the breach,” Lee said.  Robson looked puzzled.  “Shakespeare,” Lee explained.

 

 

Chapter 24 — Gathering Resources

 

         Lee Crane walked determinedly into the conference room.  He proceeded directly toward Admiral Watson.  He cocked back his left hand, the uninjured one, and hooked a hard punch into Watson’s jaw. 

 

         Nelson rose up quickly to restrain Lee from further stupidity.  Lee didn’t resist.  He’d done all he had intended.

 

         Everyone in the room on video feed remained silent waiting to see Watson’s reaction, even General Parker.  Watson rubbed his jaw.  Lt. Robson pulled some ice from nearby bucket, wrapped it in a towel and offered it to his commanding officer.  A few seconds later, Admiral Watson mumbled.  “Get the master-at-arms.  I want that man arrested.”

 

         “Take a few moments to think about it, Bob,” General Parker advised.

 

         “Got that out of your system, Commander?” Nelson asked with the hint of a smile.

 

         “Maybe.  We’ll see.”

 

         “Commander Crane, I’ll give you points for gumption, but I’m not sure hitting a senior officer in this forum was wise,” Admiral Wilson said.

 

         “It was as wise as his plan and a whole lot less painful for him than others,” Lee said.

 

         “Point taken.   Bob, it’s your call.”

 

         “I want this man court-martialed.”

 

         “I feel the same way,” Lee said.

 

         “Are you accusing me of something, Crane?”

 

         “If you aren’t involved, then you are grossly negligent and stupid.”

 

         “Commander Crane, you are way over the line now,” General Parker said.  “I’m inclined to agree with Admiral Watson’s recommendation of a court martial if you don’t give me a damn good reason for your behavior.”

 

         “I respectfully request one hour, at which time I expect to show you all exactly how you’ve been manipulated.”

 

         “Why can’t you tell us now, Commander?” Admiral Pelmore asked.

 

         “I could, but in the meantime, critical evidence might be lost or destroyed, if it hasn’t already happened.”

        

         “Bob, you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

 

         “No.  He’s a bullshit artist.  Let’s end this.”

 

         “Gentlemen, I trust Commander Crane fully.   He’s got good reason to be angry.  Just give him the hour,” Admiral Nelson said.

 

         “I’m not letting him go anywhere unguarded, Nelson,” Admiral Watson said.

 

         “I’ll stay with him.”

 

         “Inadequate,” Bob Watson said. 

 

         “How about Lt. Robson, then?” Nelson asked.

 

         The brass on the screen shrugged.   

 

         “How about it, Bob?” Nelson asked. 

 

         “One hour, not a second more.   No leaving the base, understood?”

 

         “Understood,” Nelson said and hurried Lee out of the room.

        

        

 

* * *

         “Okay, Lee.  Where to?”

 

         “To find Sharkey.”

 

         “You’ll enlighten me soon?”

 

         Lee nodded, but didn’t answer.  They walked back to the administration building toward the parking lot on the side until they found Sharkey and a master-at-arms loitering by a telephone pole.

 

         “You hear or see anything?”

 

         “No, Skipper.”

 

         Lee brought the DynaTAC up and dialed.  “Go post up right by the side of the van and listen.” 

 

         Nelson wandered over to join Sharkey and the master-at-arms.

 

         “Anything?”

 

         “A phone is ringing inside.”

 

         Lee’s color paled.  His body felt completely drained of energy and he began to falter.  Nelson was immediately at his side to prop him up.

 

         “Come on now, lad.  It’s time to end this and rest.”  He pulled Lee to a sit on the hood of a nearby car.  “Talk to me, Lee.  What’s going on?”

 

         “Admiral, imagine if your worst failure came back to haunt you.  Then others get hurt along the way just because of you.”

 

         “Lee, you’ve never intentionally hurt anyone.  Anyone who knows you knows you’d risk your own life before your crew.”

 

         “What if that wasn’t an option?”

 

         “Lee, son, just tell me what’s bugging you.  I can’t help otherwise.”

 

         “You may not be able to help anyway, Admiral”

 

         “What do you consider your worst failure?”

 

         “That blasted mission to retrieve Presidente Fuentes.”

 

         “Lee, you just followed orders.  There was nothing else you could do.”

 

         “That’s not true.  I’ve disregarded orders before, Sir.”

 

         “The stakes were too high.  It wasn’t a personal matter, Lee.”

 

         “If you were related to Farrell, you might see it differently.”

 

         “What are you saying, Lee?”

 

         “That this whole plan was set in motion by what happened to Farrell years ago.”

 

         “How?”

 

         “Farrell has a brother, a twin.  Turns out he’s a station analyst with ONI, one who bears a grudge against me.  I can’t say I blame him for that, except it was Kate who suffered most as a result.  She didn’t deserve that.”

 

         “Lee, are you ready to tell me what actually happened?  I’ve been hearing scuttlebutt.”

 

         “Do you want to know that she was savagely raped in her home in front of me as ONI recorded it all, but no one acted to intervene?  Do you want to know that it was even worse aboard that boat?”

 

         Nelson, for once, appeared wordless.  He shook his head in denial.  “Watson’s not a bad man.  I can’t see him knowing that and not intervening.”

 

         “Maybe he didn’t know, maybe he didn’t care to know.  All those men on that screen were motivated by money, which for them means power.  Maybe they didn’t know what was going on, but they weren’t paying proper attention either.  Farrell’s brother manipulated Watson and the rest of them down the garden path.  And as much as I want to hate him, I understand his motivation better than theirs.  His was personal at least.”

 

         “Where is this brother now, Lee?”

 

         “On base.  Chip’s tailing him.”

 

         “You have proof of what you say?”

 

         “Yes, confirmed by that phone.”

 

         “What do you want to do?”

 

         “I don’t know, Admiral.  Talk to him, I guess.”

 

         “Let me arrange that.”

 

         “I don’t want an audience, Sir.”

 

         “You may not want it, but you may need it.  I’m not going to lose my captain.”

 

         “What are you suggesting, Admiral?”

 

         “Let’s get this man on audio or video.”

 

         “I suppose Chip could do it.  Everything he needs should be in the ONI van.   Damn.  We need to find the uncut tapes.”

 

         “What do you mean uncut tapes?” Nelson asked.

 

         “Farrell delivered surveillance audiotapes to Admiral Watson’s office a while ago.  I’m certain he edited them first.  We’ll need to check the van, maybe even check the trashcans nearby.”

 

         “Lee, just tell me how you want to proceed in the limited time we’ve got.”

 

         “Commander, I can arrange a room with video and audio recording,” Lt. Robson offered.  “I’ll send a master-at-arms to make certain Farrell is there.  Meanwhile, your men can secure any evidence out here.  If you don’t mind, I’d even like to get the ball rolling before you enter.”

 

         “I don’t want to get you in trouble, Lieutenant.”

 

         “I’m not worried, Commander.”

 

         “Lee, what’s so important on those tapes?”

 

         “The truth.”

 

         “All right, let’s put this plan into play as fast as possible.  Lee, you and Robson get in position.  I’ll let Chip know to get out here to secure the evidence after the MAA takes Farrell into custody.  When Chip gets here, Sharkey will search nearby for any tapes that may have been discarded.”

 

         Lee whispered to Lt. Robson.  “Can you get the tapes Farrell delivered set up to play in the room too?” 

 

         Robson nodded.

 

 

Chapter 25 — Confronting a Mole

 

 

         Fifteen minutes later, just a few rooms from where Lee had faced the Joint Chiefs, Jonathan Farrell waited in a conference room.  Aside from a master-at-arms outside the door, he was alone until Lt. Robson entered.

 

         “I was expecting Admiral Watson.”

 

         “He’s tied up.  He just had a couple of questions he wanted me to ask you.”

 

         “Okay, shoot.”

 

         “Is this the sealed envelope with the tapes of your surveillance of Dr. Simon’s house that you delivered to me a short while ago?” Lt. Robson asked.

 

         “Looks the same.”

 

         Lt. Robson opened it.  “Are these the tapes you prepared and delivered to me?”

 

         “Yes, at least they look the same.  Those are my labels, my writing.”

 

         “These tapes represent the entire surveillance time?”

 

         “From the time Dirk Christie and his pals appeared on the scene, yes,” Farrell said.

 

         “And the earlier recordings?”

 

         “Are still on the original reel-to-reel tape.  There was nothing but chatter between Commander Crane and his man, and then Crane and Rutenberg.”

        

         “You mean Dr. Simon, don’t you Lieutenant Farrell?”

 

         “We all know who she is.”

 

         “So there are no gaps, no Rosemary Woods’ moments, in these tapes from the time Dirk Christie arrived and they all left the house?”

 

         “Gaps, no, Lt. Robson.  I’m a professional.  That said, there are some quiet spots and some noisy spots -- things that were out of my control.”

 

         “What do you mean noisy spots?”

 

         “Places where you can’t hear conversation clearly.”

 

         “Why would that happen?”

 

         “A lot of noise right by the surveillance device can block out and obscure sounds away from the device,” Farrell explained.

 

         “Can you give me an example?”

 

         “Sure, someone tapping their hand on a table with a bug underneath.  You might not hear anything beyond the tapping.”

 

         “And the quiet spots?” Lt. Robson asked.

 

         “Well, in a situation such as this, where we didn’t expect anyone to stay at the house very long, we don’t do a complete installation.  I only positioned three devices, one in the living area, one in the kitchen and one in the upstairs hallway.  So something that happens too far away from a device might be too muted to hear conversation clearly.”

 

         “Would there be any degradation in copying from the originals to the cassettes?” Lt. Robson asked.

 

         “Nothing of significance.  That said, if you wanted to try to enhance the sound, you’d always work from the originals.”

 

         “Which are still in your possession, Lt. Farrell?”

 

         “They’re in the van.  I could run out and get them for you if you like, if you’re concerned about their security ,Lt. Robson.”

 

         “No.  Are you?”

 

         “I’m in the spook business.  We’re always concerned about security.”

 

         “But you left the van unattended?” Lt. Robson asked.

 

         “A man has to eat eventually.  I left it locked.  I also tabbed the doors so that if anyone came in, I would know.”

 

         “Do you think that likely?”

 

         “Hard to say, Lt. Robson, except the longer I sit here, the more I’m beginning to wonder.”

 

         “Wonder what, Lt. Farrell?”

 

         “If something’s going on?”

 

         “I’m just trying to be thorough.”

 

         “You’re bordering on annoying, Robson.”

 

         “I’ll take that as a compliment, Farrell.”

 

         “How much longer is this going to take?”

 

         “I just have a couple more questions.”

 

         “Then spit ‘em out already, Farrell.”

         “In a communication during the events, you represented to Admiral Watson that you perceived no imminent threat to the well being of Commander Crane, and that you would notify the SEAL team if you did, is that correct?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

         “You did not again communicate with the Admiral until the participants had left the house?”

 

         “Look, Robson, I know Crane got pushed around a little.  He’s a trained agent and I wasn’t worried about him taking it.  He was never in any mortal danger in that house.   Worst threat I heard was Christie encouraging Swenson to give it to Crane in the butt.”

 

         “That wasn’t enough to send in the troops?”

 

         “I was pretty sure it was just a joke.”

 

         “If you thought it wasn’t, would you have called in the troops?” Lt. Robson asked.

 

         Farrell squirmed in his chair.  “That’d be a tough call given the greater import of the mission.  Taking out a People’s Republic sub versus Crane’s ass, well, he’s been behind bars before in enemy territory and it probably wouldn’t be his first time.  And you know what they say about sub jockeys anyway.”

 

         “Do you have an issue with Crane?”

 

         “I think he’s overrated,” Farrell snarled.

 

         “What about Dr. Simon’s well being?”

 

         “It wasn’t relevant to the mission, Robson.”

 

         “Are you admitting you ignored evidence that her life was in danger in that house?”

 

         “Christie’s commie girlfriend wasn’t going to stop me doing my duty, Lieutenant.  Collateral damage is a part of any war.”

 

         Lt. Robson opened the door and whispered to the master-at-arms, who placed a plastic bag in his hand.  Lee Crane entered behind Robson, pushing the door shut behind him.

 

          “Recognize this, Mr. Farrell?” Lt. Robson asked.

 

         “It’s a DynaTEC 8000,” he shrugged.

 

        

Chapter 26  — Busted

          

 

         “That phone was retrieved from your truck.  I thought you might want to have it,” Lee Crane said. 

 

         It rang seconds later. 

 

         “You want to answer it, Farrell?”  Lee asked.

 

         “No.”

 

         “Are you even curious who’s calling?”

 

         “No.”

 

         “Because the only person who would call you on it, Dirk Christie, is now dead?”

 

         Farrell was silent.

 

         “If you had an issue with me, all you had to do was come see me.  Instead, you stood by as an innocent woman was brutalized.  How can you justify that?”

 

         “Let me see.  Oh, yes.  You stood by silently as my brother was executed in cold blood because you wouldn’t admit the truth.  Orders are orders, after all, Crane.”

 

         “That was one of the lowest moments of my life, Farrell.  I’d have traded my life for his if it had been possible.”

 

         “You couldn’t even be bothered to make it to his memorial service.  Let me quote Mr. Morton’s words to my family:  ‘Captain Crane sends his condolences.  He’s been unavoidably detained.’”

 

         “I was in a hospital bed.”

 

         “You deserved to be.”

 

         “For what it’s worth, I’ve never forgotten your brother.  That said, there’s no justification for the risk you put others at to get at me.”

 

         “I acted out of patriotism for my country.  I knew that SOB Christie would go right to the People’s Republic.   It would be a win-win.  Christie would die and a PR sub would be destroyed in American waters.”

 

         “So I suppose you’re telling me that a little over three years ago, you acted out of patriotism when you helped the People’s Republic kidnap and brainwash me in an attempt to neutralize our missile defense system and destroy the Seaview?”

 

         “All I did was pass personal information about you on to Dirk Christie.  I was unaware of how he planned to use it exactly.”

 

         “You endangered the lives of over 120 men and risked our national security!” Crane yelled.

 

         “I didn’t mean to,” Farrell said softly.

 

         “And I didn’t mean for those bastards to kill your brother!”

 

         “I at least fixed my mistake.  I took care of Christie.  I made a strike against the PR.  The only thing left for me to take care of is you.”  Farrell walked toward Lee.

 

         “Give us a minute, Robson.”

 

         “Are you certain, Commander?”

 

         “Yes, take those tapes to Mr. Morton.”

 

         “The master-at-arms will be waiting outside,” Robson announced to Farrell.

 

         Farrell shrugged. 

 

         “Mano a mano,” Farrell said.  He kicked the table off toward the wall.

 

         “The way you should have addressed it from the beginning,” Lee scolded as he assumed a boxer’s opening stance.

 

         Farrell took a wide swing at Lee.  Lee feinted right, avoiding it, then responded with a left into Farrell’s gut.  “For Kate.”

 

         Farrell backed up a step and spit.  “Fucking communist bitch.  She deserved everything she got and worse.  Only thing that could have been better is if Swenson had done you.”

 

         Lee breathed in deeply.  He would not have attained his rank had he responded so easily to goading.  Lee stepped forward.  “Give me your best shot now, Farrell, because you’ll be going away for a long time soon.”

 

         Farrell dove forward into Lee, driving him to the floor.  Lee rolled Farrell to the side into a chair.  Lee was half upright as Farrell, from the floor still, swung the wooden chair into Lee’s torso.   Lee backed away while blocking the blow.   Farrell rose up and stepped backwards.   He grabbed another chair from the top and wildly swung it in Lee’s direction.  Lee reached out sideways with his left hand to stop the chair’s momentum.  He grabbed a leg and twisted the chair away from Farrell.  Farrell again lunged forward.  Lee’s right leg struck out, catching Farrell in the gut.  Farrell fell back onto the edge of the table.  Farrell lay panting, catching his breath.

        

         “Desk jockey,” Lee taunted.

 

         Farrell again lunged toward Lee.  Lee sidestepped his rush.  Farrell hit the wall hard.  He crumpled to the floor. 

 

         “There’s more to field work than riding around in a van and bugging empty rooms.”  Lee adopted his familiar pose on the edge of the table as he waited to see if Farrell had anything left to give. 

 

         Farrell hugged his knees to his chest.  “Do you know what it’s like,” Farrell panted, “to be a surviving twin?  It’s like being half a person.”

 

         “No one questions your loss, Farrell.  Your actions are another matter.  Time to pay the piper.” 

        

         Farrell glared at Lee a moment.  “I need help,” Farrell panted.  He extended his left hand while holding his right hand wrapped around his gut.  Lee reached out to pull him up.  Farrell came up fast, too fast and too willingly, wrapping around Lee’s back with his right hand.  A stabbing pain flared in Lee’s upper left shoulder.  Farrell tried to pull the blade out for another effort, but Lee wrenched his left side away as he threw his weight forward into a right hook to Farrell’s jaw.  Farrell sunk back to the floor.   Lee shook his stinging right hand, fresh stitches popped, as two masters-at-arms burst into the room.  Worn and in pain, Lee leaned back onto the top of the table to catch his breath. 

 

         Moments later, Nelson burst in the room.  Lee instinctively rose to greet him, but was unsteady on his feet.   “Get a corpsman in here immediately and get this trash to the brig,” Nelson ordered.

 

         “You know, it’s your own fault, Crane,” Farrell snarled as he tried unsuccessfully to pull free.  “If your men hadn’t put holes in that cigarette boat, Christie would have hauled you two out of there right away and you’d have been on that sub much faster.   Instead, they had to get a replacement boat that was much slower.  Yup, but for you and your people, Christie might not even have had a chance to rape the bitch once.”

 

         Lee couldn’t stop himself.  He rose up and threw another right hook into Farrell’s chin, knocking him unconscious.

 

         Nelson grabbed an unsteady Lee and pushed him back toward the table.  “All right slugger, you’ve earned some more time in sick bay.  Sit down.”

 

         “I can walk.”

 

         “You’ve got a switchblade stuck in your shoulder.  I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 

         “It’s not deep.  It can wait.”

 

         “For what?”

 

         “My court martial.”

 

         “Unlikely.”

 

         “Not according to Admiral Watson.”

 

         “Robson, have you cut the transmission yet?” Nelson called out to the hall.

 

         “Yes, Sir.”

 

         “Escort those men to the brig with the prisoner.  I’ll wait here with Commander Crane for the corpsman.”  Nelson closed the door as they left.  “Let me bring you up to date.  Admiral Watson is retiring.  There will be no court-martial.”

 

         “Huh?”

 

         “The Joint Chiefs heard everything that went on in here.  Given Farrell did all this under Watson’s nose, and Bob was so close to retiring anyway, it was decided now was the time.  Not only won’t you be charged, you can expect a commendation.  Probably that fourth stripe.  Making my captain a ranked captain at last.  Long overdue, I think.”

 

          “For this fiasco?”

 

         “This and thirty other ones before it, many courtesy of our good friends at ONI.”

 

         “It wasn’t worth it, Admiral.”

 

         “No, this one, definitely not.  Ah, here comes the corpsman.  Let’s get you tended to, Lee, and then hopefully get the hell out of here.”

 

         “Wait a second.  You didn’t make any deals to silence this, not on my behalf?  I’ve already given my word to Lacey and her boss.  You know I won’t break it.”

 

         “What’s done is done, Lee.”

 

         “What aren’t you telling me, Admiral?”

 

         “Nothing that can’t hold until we clear out of here.”

 

        

Chapter 27 - Cleaning Up Loose Ends

 

        

         An hour later, the base doctor discharged Lee.  Lee refused x-rays on either wound, leaving him the sole option of stitching up the new shoulder wound and restitching the hand wound.  Lee also refused narcotic pain killers, settling for ibuprofen.   

 

         Admiral Nelson met up with him at the medical center.  “No lasting damage, I take it.”

 

         “No.”

 

         “I don’t suppose I can get the doctor’s word for that.”

 

         “I’m fine,” Lee huffed.  “Okay, I’m not fine, but I will be soon.  It was a shallow wound.  Just muscle.  I need to find Chip.”

 

         “He’s still out in that van, I think.”

 

         “I need to talk to him.”

 

         “Okay, then we’ll go.”  Nelson offered an arm in support and led Lee to a car.  Two minutes later, they were parked next to the van.  Nelson came around to help Lee out, but Lee had already emerged.  After exchanging words with the master-at-arms and Sharkey, Nelson opened the back door of the van.

 

         Chip looked up and, as soon as he saw Lee, was worried.  “Lee, are you all right?”

 

         “I’m fine.”

 

         “He’s not fine,” Nelson clarified.

 

         “I’m functional.  Admiral, would you mind leaving me alone with Chip for a few minutes?”

 

         Nelson pondered the implications for a moment.  “If you want,” he said backing away from the door.

 

         “Chip, did you find the master tape?”

 

         “You mean this heap?”  Chip displayed a large heap of uncurled tape that had been partially wound on a spool.

 

         “Then you haven’t listened to it?”

 

         “No.”

 

         “What about the edited tapes Robson brought to you?”

 

         “They’re here,” he pointed to a sealed envelope.  “I was told to just sit here on the evidence.   Sharkey found the master tape in the dumpster behind the building and brought it to me.  Aside from doing a little spooling, I’ve been sitting as ordered.  I figured you had a reason to put it that way.  Care to explain it to me now, Lee?”

 

         “Not really, no.  I’d like a few minutes alone”

 

         “Are you going to destroy evidence when I leave?”

 

         “You don’t really need to know that in advance, do you, Chip?”

 

         “No, I suppose not.  Do what you think is best, Lee.”

 

         “I may be in here a while.  Distract the Admiral.”

 

         “I’ll do my best, Lee.”

 

* * *

 

         Lee inserted the first of two edited tapes into the recorder/player.  The first tape started with Christie’s entry into the house.  The gun battle.  Kate’s attempt to surrender and protect Lee.  It ended shortly after Christie’s radio conversation with Nelson where he tried to explain what he’d done was for Anne, not just himself, and just before he coerced Kate into compliance by threatening Lee.  The sound was all crystal clear to that point.

 

         The second tape’s audio quality deteriorated markedly.  Loud tapping noises and fades obliterated almost everything that followed until they could be heard leaving the house.  Lee was not entirely surprised that Farrell had attempted to cover up his endangerment of Lee and Kate given the loose parameters of his orders. 

 

         Lee then turned to the master tape.  He unspooled Chip’s work and stuffed the rest of the unwound tape into a waste basket.   He looked around for a match or a lighter, finding one in the emergency kit.  He set a piece of paper on fire then dropped it into the basket.  The tape melted quickly.  The air grew foul.  Lee opened the door.

 

         “Problem in there, Lee?” Nelson asked.

 

         “Just a little accident, Sir.”

 

         “Well, you know that I’ve warned you numerous times about the hazard of smoking.”

 

         Lee shook his head. 

 

         “Let’s get out of here, men.  Chip, you head out with Sharkey and Kowalski on the Flying Sub when Kowalski’s discharged.”

 

         “Yes, Admiral.  When should we expect you back at the Institute?”

 

         “In a few days, Chip.  I’ll be in touch.”

 

         “Take care, Lee.  Try to stay out of trouble,” Chip said.

 

         Lee followed the Admiral back to a car.  As the Admiral headed northeast, Lee finally inquired.  “Where are we going?”

 

         The Admiral stopped short in front of a famous Maine dry goods store.

 

         “Why are we here?”

 

         “I thought you’d like something more comfortable for travel.”

 

         “I’m too tired to care.”

 

         “Lee, your shirt is torn and blood stained and the pants aren’t much better.  I’m sure you can find a good selection of jeans and black turtlenecks here, along with necessities for a few days.  Or would you prefer to go back to the base at Brunswick for supplies?”

 

         “No thanks.”

 

         “Then go in, Lee.  Take your time.”

 

         “What will you be doing, Sir?”

 

         “Speaking to your friend at the New York Times, Mr. Bernowski.”

 

         “What will you tell him?”

 

         “I’ll be confirming aspects of your story, absent any implications of a government set up.”

 

         “What if he suspects it, Admiral?”

 

         “He’ll have to support it with facts that satisfy his editor.  I can’t give him those.   I can only verify Dirk Christie’s treasonous acts and the sinking of both the boat and the sub.”

 

         “Did you have a hard sell to get the Joint Chiefs to agree, Sir?”

 

         “Not as hard as I expected.  The explosions were so big and the debris so massive and widespread that they have to be explained plausibly.”

 

         “I’m not sure that the story passes for plausible, Sir.”

 

         “No, I suppose some of it strains plausibility.  Sadly, those parts will be left out of what I tell them.  It should suffice to protect Anne.”

 

         “Is it really that simple for you, Sir?”

 

         “No, Lee.  I was fuming mad.  I ranted and raved. I threatened.  I’m confident that Admiral Watson won’t be thanking me any time soon for his premature retirement either.   Beyond that, I can only apologize to you, for my bull headedness, my short-sightedness.”

 

         “Stop.  This isn’t about you.  It’s about how they used you.  Used us.”

 

         “I sold my soul to that devil a long time ago, Lee.   I can only make noise from within.  I’m too invested to break away.  In the meantime, I will do my best to try to uphold the values that I believe our country properly stands for and stay away from the politics.  I think you should take a few days and consider what you think is best for you.”

 

         “I . . .”

 

         “No, I mean what I said, Lee.  Go get yourself some clothes and start thinking.  I don’t want answers now.  I want you to give it time.”

 

         “So I guess taking Seaview rogue is out of the question?” Lee smiled.

 

         “Entirely.  Meet me back here in one hour.  Now, shoo.”

 

* * *

 

         An hour was more than Lee Crane could devote to shopping.  He was done in twenty-four minutes.  He couldn’t help but wonder about Kate.  She would no more go back to that house for her things than Lee ever would.  He had to get a salesclerk to help him guess sizes and pick out a few basic necessities.  It wasn’t much to offer her, but it was something he could do.

 

         Nelson was late.  Lee paced the lot.  He wished he had some way to contact Dr. Jamieson.   Nelson pulled up before Lee worked out the next step.

 

         “Sorry I’m late.  All set, Lee?”

 

         “Yes.  I picked up some things for Kate.  I’m just not certain what to do with them.”

 

         “I’m sure that will become clearer soon.  Lee, we’ll help Anne every way we can, in the way that works best for her.  I’ll stay in the background if that makes her more comfortable.”

 

         “I don’t know if she can make it without a good support system, Sir.”

 

         “Then we give her that.”

 

         “She has to be willing to accept it too.”

 

         “One step at a time, lad, one step at a time.”

 

         They drove on in silence, both thinking.  They headed for Machias, where they retrieved Buster, now a three-legged dog.  That said, he was in good spirits and happy to see Lee again. 

 

         “What next?” Lee asked as he sported a sixty pound shepherd on his lap.

 

         “I’ll call Angie and see if Jamie’s checked in yet.”

 

         “He won’t leave any details until he knows it safe, Sir.”

 

         “Angie will at least have gotten a contact number from him by now.”  Nelson pulled over at a gas station and used a pay phone.  After several calls, Nelson scowled and waved for Lee to come to the phone.  “He won’t tell me anything until you tell him it’s okay.”

 

         “I was just trying to protect you, Admiral.”

 

           Nelson handed Lee the phone.  Nelson heard a series of affirmations from Lee, nothing more.

 

         “Can you drop me at the Bangor airport?  It’s the closest,” Lee said.

 

         “If you tell me more.”

 

         “She’s in Connecticut.”

 

         “Ah, her aunt and uncle are there still?”

 

         “Yes.  They’ve already committed to helping her.”

 

         “I’m glad.  They’re good people.  What do you want to do about the dog?”

 

         Lee looked at the large dog in the window.  “Buy him a seat on the plane?”

 

         “Not bloody likely.  Give me the phone.  I’ll have Angie arrange for the Institute jet to meet us at a nearby airstrip.  I’ll come with you to Connecticut and then hop a commuter train.”

 

         “To where?  Why?”

 

         “I don’t want to push myself on Anne, Lee.  I’ll give her some space and wait until she’s ready to see me.   I have some business in New York to take care of before we go home.”

 

         “Bernowski?”

 

         “No, the Scamorza family.   I don’t think we want to rely on them accepting the newspaper accounts.  I’m going to meet with them.”

 

         “Kate will appreciate that, Sir.”

 

         “You’ll let her know that she doesn’t need to worry about anything other than getting well.  The bills will all be paid, for anything she needs, and I mean anything.”

 

         “I’ll do that, Sir.”

 

         “And Lee, maybe you could try to make her understand about me a little.”

 

         “If anybody could, huh?”

 

         “Yes.”

 

 

Chapter 28 — Resolutions

 

      

         Two days later, Lee Crane, Will Jamieson and Admiral Nelson reconnected at a small airstrip near Hartford.  Nelson pulled Lee aside shortly after take off for a private conversation.

 

         “How is everything, Lee?”

 

         “Fine.”

 

         The Admiral resisted rolling his eyes at the typically unhelpful answer.  “You seem a little glum.  Maybe you’d like to stay on a little longer, Lee?”

 

         “No.  Home sounds good now, Admiral.”

 

         “I’ll second that.  The good news is that the herculite windows are showing no signs of premature stress.   In fact, it turns out that changes made in the process may have inadvertently improved the tempering.”

 

         “Glad something’s finally gone right.”

 

         “Did something happen with Anne, Lee?  Something that’s upset you?”

 

         “Nothing happened exactly.  Maybe I was hovering too much.”

 

         “She pushed you away?”

 

         “More or less, Sir.”

 

         “You weren’t ready to go?”

 

         “I just wanted to be of help in any way I could.   There just isn’t a lot I can do at this point.  I’ll stay in touch,” Lee said.

 

         “I’m going to try to do that also.  Stop.  I know what you’re thinking.  Jamie and I have talked.  I have a strategy.”

 

         “Strategy, Sir?”

 

         “To not alienate her again.  To reconnect.  When she was little, Lee, I was a favorite uncle of hers.  I’ve got letters from her mother to share, and lots of memories too.  We’ll talk shop too.  No pressure about the Institute, just new developments and ideas.  Jamie thinks that will help her focus on the future.”

 

         “Jamie’s a smart man.  He suggested I back off for a while, that no matter how much I want to help, for the present I’m too big a reminder of everything that happened.”

 

         “Yes, he is a wise man.  You should listen to him more often, Lee.”

 

         It was Lee’s turn to roll his eyes.

 

         “Lee, before you went to Connecticut, I asked you to think about how you want to deal with the Navy and ONI in light of what’s happened.  Have you had a chance to think about that?”

 

         “I didn’t quite understand what I was supposed to think about given that I’m supposedly about to get a promotion.  Of course, that promise is unlikely to survive the newspaper reports and the court martial to follow.”

 

         “I had my doubts that you would accept the promotion even if it did come through.  Frankly, after what happened, I was concerned you might resign your commission.”

 

         “That would mean giving up Seaview.  It may be forced upon me soon enough, but I’m not resigning anything until then, Sir.”

 

         “Good.  I think you might like what I’ve been up to.  I’ve been negotiating some changes with the Joint Chiefs that might free us up from government operations and obligations.”

 

         “Free us, Admiral?  I don’t see it happening in my lifetime.  Even if we were decommissioned from permanent Naval Reserve status and stripped of all weaponry, I don’t see the powers that be allowing us to operate privately, not with a nuclear reactor on board, not a vessel of our size and capabilities.”

 

         “I know that, Lee.”

 

         “I wouldn’t allow it if I were in charge.”

 

         “Don’t trust yourself?”

 

         “Most of the time I value our relationship with the Navy.  It’s been big part of my life and I’ve generally been honored to serve when asked.  I think you feel the same, Admiral.”

 

         “Yes, but the times that I haven’t, they increasingly disturb me.  So let me tell you what I have negotiated.  First, we’ll have much more space on Seaview soon.”

 

         “Why, Sir?”

 

         “The missile silos will be removed.  There are enough missile deployment systems under direct Navy control without the addition of Seaview’s resources.”

 

         “Removing missiles will certainly make the Seaview a less interesting target for the enemy, Sir.”

 

         “Exactly.  Second, no civilian personnel except those expressly approved by the Navy will be permitted on board during any government missions.”

 

         “That could make staffing complicated at times.”

 

         “But it’s doable, isn’t it, Lee?”

 

         “Yes, I’d estimate that 85% of the crew is active in the reserves.”

 

         “Of course, all command staff would be required to be active at all times, Lee.”

 

         “For a minute, you had me wondering if I could resign my commission and stay captain for non-government missions.”

 

         “No, Lee, but you could tell ONI to stuff it.”

 

         “I’ll consider it next time they call, if they ever call again.”

 

         “They’ll call.”

 

         “It’s hard to say no sometimes,” Lee shrugged.

 

         “All right, I can see I won’t win this fight today.”

        

         “I’m all fought out for a while, Admiral.”

 

         “Then let’s go home.  We’ve got mounds of paperwork ahead of us.  We’ll be in refit for at least a month.  That should give you plenty of time to keep current on this and handle the fallout.”  Nelson handed Lee a copy of the New York Times.

 

         Lee settled into a chair and read it immediately.  

 

Sinking of People’s Republic Sub Raises More Questions Than Answers

— Preview of a Special Investigative Series by the NYT

 

                As body parts and debris from a sunken People’s Republic submarine continue to fill fishermen and lobstermen’s nets and wash ashore in Down East, Maine, questions remain as to exactly what transpired.  The Navy refuses to officially comment on the presence of the People’s Republic sub in U.S. waters beyond confirming the fact of the sinking.   

 

                Instead, explanation came from an unexpected source:  Commander Lee Crane,  captain of the private research submarine Seaview and also active Naval Reserve.  According to Commander Crane, the People’s Republic sub hovered off the coast of Canada as part of a complex plot involving recently escaped federal felon Dirk Christie.  Three years ago, Christie was convicted for intentionally supplying inferior parts to the Navy resulting in the deaths of twenty-four sailors on the USS Solaris.   At the time of Christie’s arrest and trial, rumors of treason and underworld activity were whispered amongst those involved in the case, but the government never pursued such charges.   After Christie’s escape from jail, it appears he turned to the People’s Republic for an exit strategy, offering up as bounty his former girlfriend and business associate, Anne Simon, and Commander Crane whom he had taken hostage. 

 

                When fouled props stopped the boat carrying Christie and his hostages from leaving U.S. waters, the People’s Republic sub entered U.S. territorial waters to pick up Christie and his hostages.  According to Admiral Harriman Nelson, owner of Seaview and also active Naval Reserve, the Navy was monitoring these events and intervened to prevent the transfer.  The People’s Republic sub refused to surrender to the Navy and instead launched missiles at naval vessels and aircraft.  The Navy retaliated, resulting in the complete destruction of the sub.

 

 

                The details of the bizarre tale — from Conglomerated Industries founding by Dirk Christie to the sinking of the People’s Republic sub — will be explored in depth over several weeks.   Among the areas to be covered are the original trial and conviction of Dirk Christie, specifically focussing on why the government declined to pursue treason and money laundering charges years ago despite strong evidence.  Instead, the government settled for pursuit of less serious charges leading to a quickly obtained conviction of seven years for twenty-four sailors’ lives.  Factors playing into that decision appear to include: (1) concealment of government negligence with regard to vetting Conglomerated Industries’ principals and backers; (2) the government’s desire to avoid embarrassment at revelations of underworld funding and treasonous activities by the largest government contractor; and (3) concerns about how revelations of Simon’s birthright might impact the prosecution’s case against Christie.

 

 

                The bulk of the details for the article initially were provided by Commander Crane to the Times in an exclusive, recorded interview.  Commander Crane’s presence in the story at first appears confounding, as he lacked any direct connection to Christie.   However, his boss -- Admiral Nelson -- led the Navy’s forensic investigation into the Solaris disaster, which pointed the blame at Consolidated Industries.   Admiral Nelson then enlisted the assistance of Simon  -- who at the time of the Solaris incident was both living with Christie and working for Christie’s company -- in procuring critical evidence against Christie himself and the company. 

 

                New revelations reveal that prior to Christie’s trial, in order to prevent Nelson from testifying and in revenge for soliciting Simon’s help in securing incriminating evidence, Christie aided and abetted the People’s Republic in kidnapping and brainwashing Commander Crane, risking the lives of over 125 men aboard the Seaview.  Although the Seaview suffered damage in the ensuing plot, Admiral Nelson survived and his testimony was important to Christie’s conviction.  

 

                Christie’s other target for revenge upon escape was Anne Simon, Ph.D. (MIT).  Ultimately it was Simon’s copying of documents that Christie later destroyed that directly implicated Christie personally in the Solaris disaster, and her testimony that resulted in his conviction.  On the day of her testimony, Simon was wounded in an assassination attempt on the courthouse steps.  That attempt injured her and killed a federal marshal protecting her.  While no evidence was presented at trial concerning who fired the shots, Simon’s testimony -- which proceeded as scheduled despite a serious shoulder wound  -- could not have helped the defense.  Christie entered into a plea agreement immediately after her testimony.  Afterwards, Simon was taken for treatment and then entered into the Federal Witness Protection Program. 

                What never became public during Christie’s indictment, trial or thereafter, were these startling revelations: (1) Christie’s company was initially funded by underworld money, specifically via his blood relations, the Scamorza family of New York, and Consolidated was partially owned by them through a series of shell companies until Christie’s conviction; (2) Christie and Consolidated accepted funds from the People’s Republic in exchange for acts which undermined the integrity of parts ordered by the U.S. military, including at least one instance of intentional sabotage of parts, and Christie transferred these funds to foreign accounts he held personally; and (3) Simon, Christie’s longtime girlfriend, employee and a company officer, is the daughter of notorious convicted traitors Erving and Rose Rutenberg.   

 

                Flash forward three years from Christie’s imprisonment.  Hurricane Nora rampaged through the Carolinas.  The Beaufort Federal Penitentiary was hard hit and nearly destroyed, with both guards and prisoners injured.  Several surviving prisoners, including Christie, took advantage of the opportunity to escape.   Christie immediately undertook a daring plan of revenge against Admiral Nelson and Dr. Simon. 

 

                Christie enlisted the aid of his underworld family, the People’s Republic and the services of a government agent sporting a personal grudge against Commander Crane.   According to Admiral Nelson, “this agent duplicitously involved the Navy in an unjustifiably risky operation without disclosure of his agenda or relevant facts, putting both Crane and Simon in grave danger.”  Commander Crane postulates alternatively that the Navy didn’t care about the risk to Simon, himself or other civilians involved.  He suggests that the opportunity to sink an enemy sub in U.S. waters proved too tempting to Naval officials, leading to ill-informed and ill-advised actions.  The motivation?  Money.  Crane posits that with the military budget at its lowest in decades, Congress would be hard pressed to refuse an increase in defense spending following an incursion by an enemy sub in Maine (even if said incursion was baited by the actions of U.S. agents). 

 

                In parts one and two of the article premiering next Monday and Wednesday, the history of Christie’s company Conglomerated Industries and Christie’s personal history until the time of his arrest will be explored.   Expect startling revelations about Christie’s mob connections, his former girlfriend’s notorious parentage, and how these facts influenced Christie’s actions in defrauding the government and committing treason.  The following week will feature parts three and four focussing on Christie’s trial and imprisonment, including facts about efforts to derail his trial involving violence and conspiracy to commit treason.  The third week’s concluding parts five and six will explore the actions of Christie during and after his escape and the roles of those who aided and abetted him:  the underworld, the People’s Republic, and a government agent.   In this last part of the story, chance, coincidence and the drive for revenge are the major factors which led to the bizarre end game, the sinking of a People’s Republic submarine off the coast of Maine.

        

         “It’s a good start,” Nelson reassured Lee.

 

         “And a lot to promise to deliver,” Lee nodded.   “Thank you for your help.”   Nelson had much at stake in going on the record even in the limited way he had.  Lee could not have expected more from his friend, mentor and boss.  

 

 

Chapter 29 - Epilogue

 

         Nearly three months after the sinking of the People’s Republic sub, and after a month long research mission aboard the Seaview that could best be described as tedious, Nelson summoned Crane.

 

         “Lee, come to my office at 1:00 today.  I’ve got a surprise.”

 

         “What kind of surprise?”

 

         “A good one, and that’s all I’m saying.”

 

         Lee arrived five minutes early, as typical.  Angie made him wait.  The Admiral buzzed him in at 0100 precisely. 

 

         “Look who’s here, Lee!  It’s Anne.”

 

         “Kate!”  He extended a hand in greeting. 

 

         “I don’t think so, Commander.”  She pulled his hand toward her and pulled him into a hug.

 

         Lee was gentle.

 

         “I’m all healed.  It’s okay.”

 

         “You look great.”

 

         “Thanks.  I’m putting real effort into my third act.”

 

         “I’ll give you two some time to get reacquainted,” Nelson announced before he made a quick exit.

 

         Lee smiled.  Her hair was short and smartly cut.  Her clothes were tailored and professional, quite a change from his first encounter with her. 

 

         “How long will you be staying?  I’d love to show you around Santa Barbara.”

 

         “I’ll be here for three weeks.”

 

         “Well, I’ve got a couple of days before we set sail, so if the Admiral hasn’t already claimed all your time, I’d like to get in line.”

 

         “I don’t think time will be an issue.  I’ll be sailing with you on the next mission.”

 

         Lee cocked his head.

 

         “I’ve taken a position at MIT in the Chemistry department, a temporary one that hopefully will turn permanent.”

 

         “Right, our upcoming cruise is that joint project with MIT.”

 

         “I hope it won’t be a problem.”

 

         “Why would it be a problem?  I’m delighted for you.”

 

         “I’m sorry that I’ve been so remote.  I’ve had a lot of thinking to do.”

 

         “No apologies necessary.  I’m just happy to see you doing well.”

 

         “I wanted to explain to you why I pushed you away.  I think I owe you that.”

 

         “You don’t owe me anything.”

 

         “How about if I’d just like to explain?”

 

         “Okay.”

 

         “I’ve had the knight in shining armor fixation before.”

 

         “Christie?”

 

         “Yes, when I met him, I really was the prototypical science nerd with little life experience.  I had plenty of hubris -- of the intellectual kind -- but not a great deal of self worth, socially or physically.  Dirk really did bring me a long ways toward being a more complete person.  I did love him.”

 

         “Warped as he was at the end, I could see that once he felt the same for you.”

 

         “If I’d paid more attention to him than work, I might have forestalled what happened.”

 

         “You can’t hold yourself responsible for what he did.”

 

         “Not responsible, but accountable for what I didn’t do, how I wasn’t always there for him the way I might have been, how I could have better supported him.”

 

         “Sounds to me like you are taking blame.”

 

         “No, I’m not saying I deserved what happened.  I’m only recognizing some of what went astray along the way.”

 

         “Okay, I guess I can see how that could help you move forward.”

 

         “Forward means not making the same mistakes twice.  I pushed you away because I didn’t want to be rescued by you, like I’d been rescued by Dirk.  It was too easy a trap.  You, well, look at you.  What woman wouldn’t be taken?  We had that bizarre couple of days at my house where both of us indulged in a little Harlequin romance while you were on a survivor’s high.  But that was all it was.  I knew it.  You knew it.  Then after, well, after all that mess, how easy it would have been to latch on and hold on to you for dear life.  You were as vulnerable as I, maybe more, with that save the world mentality of yours.  I knew it was the wrong way for me to crawl out of the hole.  Funnily enough, letting Nelson back in as Uncle Harry of my childhood was some of the best medicine.”

 

         “I’m glad you two have reconnected.  I can see it’s given him a lot of joy.”

 

         “Yes, well, he’s only obliquely asked me to work for the Institute a few times, so far.”

 

         “Maybe you will?”

 

         “I need to take a shot at reestablishing myself through academia first.”

 

         “Whatever you want, I want for you.”

 

         “There have been times in the last couple of months that I wanted you, Lee.  Don’t panic.  Not in a way that implies any future.  I don’t see that for us, not remotely.  Just in a way that recognizes what a great guy you are, how you embrace life, someone who makes others feel safe and protected.”

 

         “I don’t think I did a very good job of protecting you at all.”

 

         “You did everything you could.  You tried your best.  I’d be dead or maybe worse if you hadn’t been there.  And just meeting you the way we met brought me out of a funk and gave me the desire to get back in the world.  So here I am saying thank you, Lee Crane.”

 

         “There’s really no need.”

 

         “Captain,” she put her hands on her hips, “how about just saying ‘you’re welcome?’”

 

         “You’re welcome.”

 

         “All right, enough catching up for now, Lee would you like to join us for lunch at Bardo’s?” Harry interrupted.        

 

         “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

        

         Lunch turned out to include Dr. Jamieson as well.  He was pleased with Kate’s progress.

 

         “I just would like to know one thing.  Which is it going to be?  Kate or Anne?”

 

         “It’s kind of fun having two identities.”

 

         “I never did find out the new last name,” Lee said.

 

         “Rosen.  Legally, it’s Katherine Rosen.  But I’ll answer to anything.  Just don’t call me . . .”

 

         “Late for supper,” Nelson finished.

 

         “Precisely.”  Kate smiled and dug in.

 

         “I was thinking of sailing out to Santa Cruz Island this afternoon, if anyone would like to join me?” Lee said.

 

         “On what?” Kate asked.

 

         “An old Beneteau I’ve been fixing up for years.”

 

         “Emphasis on the word ‘fixing’ as in still fixing,” Nelson said.  “I’ll pass.”

 

          “Those are top of the line boats.  I’ve seen them, but never been on one,” Kate said.

 

         “She sails beautifully.  I just haven’t focussed much on the interior cabin.  The Admiral likes his creature comforts at his age.”

 

         Harry scowled, but then inhaled a draft of forty year old scotch and saw the truth of the remark and raised his glass.  “So sue me.  You two go.  Have fun.”        

 

         “How about you, Jamie?”

 

         “Sorry, but my wife is already jealous that I’m spending two hours of leave time away from her and the honey-do list.  Besides, I’m certain you and Kate have a lot to catch up on and discuss.”  Lee noticed Jamie focussed directly on Kate for a moment and wondered about it.

 

         “Run along, children,” Harry said, gesturing for them to leave.  “Lunch is on me.  And you, fella, you bring her home by eleven.”

 

         “I’m a little old for a curfew, Sir.”

 

         “She’s staying in my house, so she’s not.”

 

         “I’ll have her back by eleven, sir,” Lee winked.

 

 

The End  (for now - a sequel is half written!)