As
Chip walked down the corridor at NIMR, headed for his office, he heard a door
slam loud enough to echo halfway to Seaview’s dock. Hmm.
Wrong direction to be the Admiral, he muttered under his
breath. Guess HurriCrane Lee just
blew back in. Doesn’t sound like he had
a very good vacation. A slow grin
crossed his face and he headed in the direction of his CO’s – and best friend’s
– office.
Seaview’s
workaholic Captain had, six days ago, been ‘persuaded’ to take some time
off. Of course, Dr. Will Jamison’s
method had been to remind Lee that unless there was a suitable absence of the
Captain’s backside from NIMR property, the CMO would declare him unfit for duty
for the giant submarine’s next cruise.
Jamie usually had to resort to that threat at least once a year. With the usual reaction from the Captain –
Lee yelled until he was blue in the face that Jamie had no right or reason;
that he, Lee, was just fine, thank you, and would Jamie kindly get out of his
way and let him do his job. Then Jamie
would remind Lee – at much the same volume – that he, Jamie, was doing his
job by maintaining the health of Seaview’s crew, of which Lee was a part. It always ended the same way: Admiral Nelson
and Chip would break up the combatants, Lee would grudgingly split for a week
or so, and all would be forgiven by the time he got back. Wonder what happened this time? Chip gave Lee’s secretary an upraised
eyebrow, but that stalwart survivor of Command Personnel temper tantrums just
shrugged her shoulders, and Chip walked over and tapped lightly on Lee’s office
door. Not getting a response, he quietly
opened the door and slipped inside anyway.
His
first look at the returned vacationer wasn’t promising, and had Chip closing
the door behind him as silently as he’d opened it. Lee was sitting leaned back in his desk
chair, head against the tall back, eyes closed and fists clenched. “That bad,” Chip finally asked with an amused
grin. He watched as Lee started badly,
then finally relaxed and settled back into his chair. Chip walked over, poured out two cups of
coffee from the pot Lee’s secretary always started when she got in, set one
down in front of Lee, and settled himself into one of the visitor’s chairs.
Lee
took a couple deep breaths, sighed heavily, and reached for the cup of dark,
rich brew. Not without having to stifle
a low moan, unfortunately, and he ducked his head as he realized Chip had
noticed. “I really wish,” Lee grumbled,
“Jamie would quit insisting I take a vacation.
Nine times out of ten I come back feeling worse than when I left, only
to have to face all the blasted paperwork that’s built up while I was
gone.” He waved a hand at his
overflowing ‘In’ basket, flinched again, and settled both hands around the
coffee cup, finally taking a long, slow, swallow.
While
taking note of his friend’s apparent stiff and sore movements, Chip chose not
to comment. Instead, his grin broadened. “That good, huh?” he asked casually. Laughing outright at the instant glare he got
in answer, he finally saw Lee’s lips twitch as he took another swallow of
coffee.
“Let’s
just say, it had its moments,” Lee acknowledged.
“So?”
“So,
what?”
“So,
give, buddy. Tell your Uncle Chip what a
terrible time you had, off in the wilds of the
Lee
chuckled, not without another momentary flinch that he knew Chip caught, and
quickly got himself back under control. “And
who was it I had to bail out the morning after Mikey Stengler’s party, when you
and Tim decided to go skinny dipping? If
Gunny Zitka had ever found out about that…”
Chip’s
ears turned bright pink. “We didn’t know
it was the Mayor’s pool,” Chip defended himself indignantly. “No one told us he lived next door.” Lee’s laughter filled the office as Chip’s
face turned crimson. “And you’re
changing the subject,” Chip challenged.
He got more serious as Lee reached to put down the now empty coffee cup
and cringed doing it. “What did you and
Tim get into that made Annie beat you up with her rolling pin?”
Lee
just shook his head. “Wasn’t Annie’s
doing,” he admitted, and gave Chip a sheepish grin. “Tim and I managed to mangle ourselves all on
our own.”
“I
knew it,” Chip said triumphantly, as Lee cringed again. “Give,” he demanded.
Lee
reacted to the order with an instant glare, but it defused rapidly into another
sheepish grin. “You know the Oregon
Dunes National Recreation Area?”
“Not
personally,” Chip quipped. “Heard you
talk about it.”
“Cool
place. Over 10,000 acres of dunes and
beaches to explore. Tim and I rented a
two-person dune buggy for the day and just took off. You can’t really get all that lost. At the widest, it’s only a little over two
miles. Just head for the beach and turn
north. You eventually get back.”
“So?”
Chip prodded again.
“So…” Lee gave his friend a decidedly chagrined
glance. “We got, shall we say, a little
too up close and personal with the sand.”
Chip
set down his coffee cup with exaggerated carefulness. “You rolled the dune buggy?” he asked, slowly
and sternly.
Lee
looked at him through his lowered eyelashes, and held up two fingers. “Twice,” he admitted softly. “It’s really amazing. You look in one direction, and all you see is
flat sand. You look at the same stretch
from the other direction, and then you can see all the potholes. We were strapped in, of course,” he hastened
to add to the blond, who’d just closed his eyes and was shaking his head
slowly. “Didn’t hurt anything. They make those buggies to withstand that
sort of tearing around. We just
unbuckled, flipped it over right side up again, and went back at it.”
Chip
finally opened his eyes at the obviously delighted sound in Lee’s voice. But he kept his expression stern. “So, why are you flinching every time you
move an inch? And why the sound effects
when you came in this morning?” He
nodded toward the office door.
A
momentarily hard look crossed Lee’s face, but he smiled at Chip. “A little stiff and sore the next morning,”
he admitted. The smile broadened as he
added, “Annie threatened us both with leeches, after looking at all Tim’s
bruises.” He laughed, and relaxed as
Chip joined in.
“But
if you didn’t get that hurt,” the blond persisted, “why are you still
stiff? And what about the rest?” He again indicated the door.
The
hard look came back. “Came later,” Lee
growled. “Now, if you have nothing
better to do than sit there and interrogate me, I’m sure I can find a few dozen
reports you can work on.”
“Have
my own, thank you,” Chip admitted, and stood.
But as he did, Lee reached for the stack of folders to his left, and
immediately cringed as he extended his left arm. It wasn’t until then that Chip noticed a
small stain on the shoulder of Lee’s uniform shirt, and stopped his movement
toward the door. Lee finally noticed
where Chip was staring, and glanced down.
“Damn,”
he growled. “Bandage must have slipped.”
“Bandage?”
Chip pounced.
“Relax,
Chip,” Lee tried to placate his instantly concerned friend. “Just a scratch. I’ll clean it up in a bit. Think I have a spare shirt in the closet.”
But
Chip wasn’t about to be dismissed that easily, especially as he noticed the
stain was spreading. He quickly walked
around the desk to stand next to Lee.
“Give!” he demanded. “What’s
going on, Lee?”
“Nothing,”
Lee tried again to wave him off, this time, unfortunately, with his left
hand. As a stab of pain shot through his
shoulder, he had to reach around with his right hand and hold his left arm
steady. “It’s nothing,” he tried again
to calm down an increasingly upset Chip.
“Just a scratch, like I said before.”
But
Chip had been through this far too many times to be waylaid that easily. His right hand shot out and clamped around
the back of Lee’s neck, and he practically lifted Lee out of the chair. “Move, mister,” he demanded, and shoved Lee
toward the door. Lee balked stubbornly,
and glared at his friend, but Chip wasn’t fazed. “Now!” came the next demand. “Either I escort your six to
It
was Lee’s turn to momentarily close his eyes.
When he reopened them, Chip was still glowering at him, but as he
allowed a small, sheepish grin to appear, he was relieved to see Chip relax. But not enough to let Lee off the hook, as
Chip just pointed toward the door.
They
made the short trip in silence. Lee
periodically glanced sideways at Chip, but neither said anything until they got
to the front desk, where Chip asked the nurse on duty to point him in the
direction of the nearest empty exam room.
The petite redhead took in the fact that Lee was still holding his left
upper arm, and pointed down the hallway.
“Room three,” she told both men.
“I’ll call Dr. Jamison.”
“Terrific,”
Lee muttered. “Thanks heaps, Chip.”
“Just
doing my job,” Chip responded, way too cheerfully as far as Lee was
concerned. “One of the main duties of a
good XO is looking after his Captain.”
Chip could afford to be flip, now that he’d manhandled Lee into getting
treatment.
They
didn’t have to wait long. They had
barely gotten to the exam room, where Chip managed to get Lee to sit down on
the gurney – or at least the edge of it – when Jamie walked in. Lee wasn’t about to let the CMO get up a head
of steam. “This is all your fault,” he
blustered at the older man. “If you
hadn’t forced me out of here, none of this would have happened.”
His
foul mood had about as much effect on the CMO as it did on Chip –
unfortunately. Jamie just grinned,
walked over, and started unbuttoning Lee’s shirt. “And you,” Lee turned on Chip, “now that
you’ve delivered me to the Torture Chamber, can hike your six out of here.”
“And
miss the rest of the story?” Chip looked at him innocently. “Not a chance.” The blond settled into a chair, off to one
side against the wall, leaned back, and crossed his arms and ankles.
By
this time Jamie had Lee’s shirt off, and Lee had to spend a couple minutes
explaining to the Doctor why there were obvious seat belt marks across his
chest and stomach. But what drew the
most attention were the numerous cuts and scratches covering Lee’s entire
torso, and the obviously self-wrapped bandage around his upper left arm and
over his shoulder, its rapidly growing bloodstain drawing a short intake of air
from Jamie. “Skipper…”
Again
Lee cut him off. “Jamie, chill,” he
demanded. “It’s not that bad. Don’t know why it started bleeding again.” He glared at Jamie. “You’re worse than Mr. Mom over there,” and
he nodded toward Chip, no longer so relaxed in the chair.
“I’m
supposed to be,” Jamie blustered right back, and started to unwrap the clumsy
bandage. As he stripped off the last
layer there was another sharp intake of breath – this time from Chip.
“That’s
a gunshot wound,” Chip yelled.
“Tell
the world, why don’t you,” Lee responded dryly, then drew in his own sharp
breath as Jamie examined the wound.
“It’s a through-and-through,” he continued. “Nothing much damaged.”
“And
just how do you know that, Doctor Crane?” Jamie snapped.
“He
ought to know by now, Jamie,” came from Chip.
“He’s been shot enough.” Despite
the seriousness of the situation, all three men were forced to grin, Lee
decidedly sheepishly.
“ONI?”
Jamie asked, as he walked over to a cabinet to start collecting what supplies
he needed. Two hands slapping chair arms
drew a commiserating glance at Chip. The
XO made no bones about hating the fact Lee still took occasional assignments
from the intelligence agency.
“No,”
Lee all but snarled. “Just a dipstick
teenager with his brains in his jock strap.”
“Excuse
me?” Jamie turned back toward Lee.
Lee
just shook his head. “Was driving home
from the Hughes. Got a little tired, and
stopped off where there was a wooded area.
A trail led off into the woods, so I decided to follow it a ways – stretch
my legs before I continued the drive.
AWHHH,” he yelled suddenly, as Jamie placed two gauze patches, moistened
in antiseptic, over the entry and exit wounds.
“Damn, Jamie,” he continued a little more softly – but not much. “Give a man a little warning, would you?”
“And
take all the fun out of it?” Chip commented lightly. Lee just glared at him.
“By
rights I should give you a swift kick in the backside,” Jamie retorted. “You got home last night? And didn’t think a bullet wound was worth
mentioning?” He pressed on the pads a
little harder for emphasis. Lee cringed
but kept his mouth shut. While Jamie
worked to staunch the blood that had, for whatever reason, started to weep from
the wounds again, he glanced at the assortment of cuts and scratches. “Are there more on your legs?” he asked, a
little more civilly.
“A
few,” Lee mumbled without looking up.
Jamie
gave the wounds a couple more dabs, soaked fresh gauze pads, and taped them in
place. “That will hold for the
moment. Drop your pants and let’s take a
look at the rest of the damage.”
Lee
grudgingly complied. Kicking off his
shoes he stood up, loosened his belt, and removed his trousers. If anything, his legs were in worse shape
than his upper body. But before Jamie
could say a word, Lee fixed him with a hard stare. “Don’t start, Jamie. I told you, this is all your fault.” A snort from the side of the room caused Lee’s
stare to change direction.
Jamie
just laughed. “Down, Commander,” he
ordered, albeit still grinning, and patted the gurney. “All the way,” he continued as Lee again sat
on the edge, and he gently maneuvered Lee into a prone position. “None of them looks too bad or deep.” He laid a hand gently on Lee’s forehead. “And so far, no fever. I’ll give you some ointment to rub on them
later. For right now, I’ll just
administer a wide-spectrum antibiotic, and you can continue with the
explanations while I put a few stitches in your arm.”
Lee
let out a few more mumbled grumbles as Jamie motioned for him to roll onto his side
so the CMO could give him the shot in his hip.
But as he turned back, Jamie pulled a sheet halfway up his chest, and
turned attention back to Lee’s arm.
“The
gunshot wound?” Jamie prodded, and Lee got back to his narrative.
“Didn’t
have a clue there was anyone else within half a mile. Never heard a thing until a shot rang out,
and I got nailed. Had no idea what was
happening, just threw myself to one side and flattened.” He grimaced.
“Unfortunately, where I threw myself ended up being down an embankment
into some stickery bushes.” He glanced
at Jamie. “Hence the scratches.”
“How
come there aren’t any on your face?” Chip wanted to know.
“Haven’t
a clue,” Lee admitted. “Anyway, the
shots were still coming – not really like they were at me, just in my
direction. I worked my way through the
brush until I could get behind whoever it was, and found this dumba…”
“Skipper!”
Jamie warned, not without a grin.
“This
stupid kid,” Lee finished disgustedly.
“Seems he’d ‘borrowed’ his Dad’s target pistol, a little .22, and was
trying to impress his girlfriend by shooting at a bunch of tomatoes they’d
swiped out of her Mother’s garden.” Lee
all but growled. “They didn’t have a
clue I was there. He didn’t pay any
attention to which way he was shooting. Could have killed someone and never even known
it.” This time there was a definite
growl at the end.
“What
did you do?” Chip asked carefully. A
seriously ticked off Lee was not a pleasant sight.
“Screamed
bloody murder, for starters,” Lee admitted.
“Scared the pair of them so badly, she screamed even louder, and he
dropped the pistol. It discharged when
it hit the ground – thank heaven all it hit was a tree. I grabbed it up and unloaded it before I used
it myself…” He gave Jamie a wry grin as
the CMO snorted. “Yeah, well, I was
ticked enough.”
“And?”
Chip verbally nudged again.
“Told
the little dipstick where I was going to shove the barrel of the pistol if I
ever found him with one again, made them both tell me their names and
addresses, and left them there. Went
back to the car and used the first aid kit to bandage the wound, grabbed fresh
clothes out of my bag and changed, and drove to the next town. Left the gun,” he paused and yawned, “at the
police station, along with the kids’ info.
They can contact the parents.”
“Without
admitting that you’d been hit?” Jamie guessed, and grinned broadly as Lee’s
answer was delayed by another yawn.
“Didn’t
see any point in it. I wasn’t going to
press charges. Prob’ly scared the both
of them so bad…” he yawned again, and
suddenly glared at Jamie. “Doc! What did you do?” he demanded. Unfortunately, by now his voice lacked its
usual timbre and the Doctor just grinned as he added a light blanket to the
sheet covering his CO.
“My
job, Skipper,” he answered mildly. “Now
just close your eyes. Let me make sure
there aren’t any bits of forest left in all those scratches. And if you’re really nice, I might even let
you go back to your own bed this evening.”
“Damn
well better,” was mumbled back at him softly.
Jamie just grinned. “And no more
vacations,” Lee made an effort to order his CMO. He fought to keep his eyes open, and get out
one last thought. “Not sure I can
survive many more of these.” He fell
asleep to the sound of his friends’ laughter.