Derelict

By R. L. Keller

Presented for the picture challenge “Ghost Ship”

(I need to apologize ahead of time, readers. This story got totally away from me, and all I could do was let it run. Most of my regular readers will recognize many of the OC’s I’ve created over the years to man Seaview. But no worries if you don’t) 😊

Lt. Ted Sines, who all of his co-workers rarely called anything except Sparks because of his job as Head of Communications aboard the submarine Seaview, was occasionally very glad that he worked in a back corner of the sub’s Control Room because it allowed him the ability to turn his back to everyone else in the Conn. Not that he was hiding anything. Well, he admitted as he did it now, mid-afternoon on what was supposed to be a quiet cruise, except trying to keep from bursting out laughing. He pitied the rest of the Conn crew, trying to keep a straight face and concentrate on their instruments as Seaview’s CO and XO, Cdr. Lee Crane and Lt. Cdr. Charles P. (Chip) Morton respectively, were openly chiding each other over an incident that had happened on a dive both had gone out on that morning. Not something that would happen on a normal Navy boat, here on Seaview between the two long-time friends, roommates during their Annapolis years, it wasn’t all that unusual. There was absolutely no interference with the Chain of Command; nothing ever affected that. But in quiet times the pair could and would yank each other’s chain to the point where outsiders did, sometimes, wonder. The crew knew better. But it could still get ‘interesting’ around the pair on occasion.

His own equipment chirped and Sparks was immediately back under control, blocking out everything except concentrating on his duties. “This is Seaview,” he answered the incoming call.

“Admiral Stark for Admiral Nelson,” came back from his counterpart at ComSubPac.

“Roger. Hold while I put you through,” Sparks told the caller and turned toward the Chart Table where the two Senior Officers had been standing, harassing each other. Sparks wasn’t surprised at all to find that both were now looking his direction, having not been so distracted that they hadn’t heard the incoming message. Nothing got past the two, no matter what else they were in the middle of. “Admiral Stark for Admiral Nelson,” he told his CO, who had already taken a step in his direction.

“In his cabin,” Crane told him. “I think,” he added with a quick grin.

Sparks nodded and called there. When Admiral Nelson instantly answered, Sparks transferred the call and cut himself off from it. Depending on circumstances he sometimes had to listen in, passing on messages. But with Seaview being primarily a civilian boat, he’d learned early on which calls were dealt with and which were merely logged and passed on to the appropriate person. ComSubPac calling Nelson was one he wanted no one to think he’d listened to! The few times that he’d been required to, he’d had to turn his volume way down; neither Nelson nor Stark were averse to yelling!

The call did, effectively, stop the kibitzing between CO and XO. There was still a quiet conversation going on but Sparks noted that both men’s expressions were now all business. Leave it to Stark to spoil the fun, Sparks grumbled silently.

* * * *

Nelson almost smiled as he made the last turn on the spiral stairs into the Conn and saw the identical looks his two Senior Officers sent him. He’d had a report earlier from COB Sharkey that the pair were razzing each other over an incident that morning. Nelson had, unfortunately, not been on that particular dive, but had been in the Missile Room when they came back aboard. Chip had been totally beside himself, unmercifully badgering Lee about having garnered the attention of half a dozen common dolphins they’d run into. Three teams of divers had gone out to gather samples of water around a coral bed off a small island in Indonesia Nelson was studying, and apparently Lee had startled a school of fish as he collected in his assigned area. The dolphins decided that Lee was supplying them with breakfast – according to Chip – and refused to leave Lee alone from that point forward. No matter what he did, they wouldn’t leave and it took Lee twice as long to sample his area as it had the others. Seaview’s handsome young captain had a reputation for attracting female anythings, and Chip was using that bit of Seaview lore to torment Lee about the dolphins all being females; that’s why he couldn’t make them go away.

But obviously knowing who the just completed call had been from, both were now focused on whatever Nelson was about to tell them. “Chill,” he ordered as he approached, and had to choke off a chuckle as Lee frowned at the somewhat flippant command. Chip’s ‘XO on Duty’ expression never changed but Nelson did think that his blue eyes sparkled just a bit brighter. Nelson did grin as he handed Lee the slip of paper he’d carried down from his cabin. “A freighter spotted what they thought might be a derelict ship of some sort, but were too far away to verify. Said it looked sort of like an old World War Two destroyer, but smaller.”

“In these waters it could easily be Japanese; they used smaller scout ships that sort of looked like our destroyers,” Lee told him, glancing at the coordinates on the paper and handing it to Chip.

“Who knows,” Nelson agreed. “Anyway, since we’re in the neighborhood. Well, sort of,” he qualified, “Jiggs asked if we could check it out.” He sent Lee a grin. “If it is an old derelict, maybe we can arrange to sink it where it will help the coral reef build on it.”

“Yes, sir.” Lee’s voice was neutral and it caused Nelson’s grin to expand. The whole crew knew that their boss’ focus was always on protecting and preserving the earth’s oceans. Even old, rusting, metal had a part to play in his plans.

“Chip?” he now turned to the blond, who had been busy pulling the appropriate navigational chart.

“Call it six hours at Full speed,” he told his boss.

“And at half speed we’ll all be more relaxed, and get there comfortably tomorrow morning,” Nelson told him firmly, but still with a smile.

“Yes, sir,” came back from both Chip and Lee.

Nelson chuckled softly to himself as he headed back up the stairs to Officers’ Country, listening as Chip started giving the orders to move Seaview from her present position to where the ‘whatever-it-was’ had been sighted.

“What have they done now?” was grumbled as he rounded a corner. Seaview’s CMO, Dr. Will Jamison, had obviously seen the smile on Nelson’s face. Considering the direction Nelson was coming from, Will’s natural conclusion was that Seaview’s two young senior officers were up to ‘something’, and Nelson laughed out loud.

“Running my boat as efficiently as any two people could possibly manage,” Nelson told him, still grinning.

“Harrumph,” Will muttered, in an almost exact duplication of Nelson’s frequent grumble.

“And just what has you in such a delightful mood?” Nelson teasingly asked.

Will finally sent his boss a small grin. “It’s been far too quiet for far too long. I’m expecting disaster at any moment.” Nelson burst out laughing. “I understand we barely averted it this morning,” Will continued, a bit more relaxed.

Nelson gestured toward his cabin door and they both entered. “You mean Lee and the dolphins?” he asked as he settled into his desk chair and reached into the bottom drawer for a bottle of scotch and two glasses. “You know dolphins would never hurt Lee.” He grinned as he poured a finger of the golden liquid into each glass, and pushed one toward the doctor. “Especially female dolphins,” he barely got out without further laughter.

At that Will nodded and took a small sip of the powerful liquor. “True,” he admitted. “But according to Sharkey, Lee was getting ready to fire Chip out a torpedo tube and promote Lt. James to XO if Chip wouldn’t quit ragging on him about it.” Both men grinned.

“They’ve calmed down,” Nelson told him, “at least for the moment. Had a call from Jiggs…”

“Help,” Will growled.

“Down, Will,” Nelson told him with a broad grin. “Nothing to get us involved in any trouble,” and he went on to explain the call.

“No trouble that you know of,” Will pointed an eyebrow at his boss. The two older men didn’t have quite the connection to each other that Lee and Chip did but there was still a strong enough friendship that allowed for the occasional bit of give and take.

Nelson nodded. “Have to give you that one,” he admitted, “with our track record.”

“Humm,” Will mumbled as he polished off the small drink. “Thanks,” he added as he put the glass down and stood. “Guess I’d better go ‘batten down the hatches’ in Sick Bay even better than they already are.” But he sent Nelson a grin as he headed out the door.

Nelson chuckled as he poured himself another scant inch before returning the bottle to the bottom drawer. Seaview and her crew did have a knack for finding themselves in the strangest circumstances on occasion. He toasted the boat. “But we also have the best boat and crew in the world to get ourselves out of it again.” He nodded, drained the glass, and went back to what Admiral Jiggs Stark’s – ComSubPac and one of Nelson’s closest friends - call had interrupted.

* * * *

Will wasn’t sure what to expect when he entered the Officers’ Wardroom the next morning. He’d been late for dinner the precious evening, having to deal with an electrical burn on Seaman Rawn’s hand. The Hydrograph specialist had been helping Seaman Patterson make repairs to an auxiliary power unit for the hydrophones and accidentally touched a live wire. The burn was minor, but those kinds of injuries could turn septic if not treated quickly and properly. Rawn, getting better but still one of Seaview’s more abrasive men to deal with, had acted like he was ready to blow off both of the corpsmen so Will had stayed and handled cleaning, dressing, and bandaging the injury himself. By the time he got to the Wardroom he’d ended up having to eat alone so he had no idea if Lee and Chip were still sniping at each other. Lee had been all business when he’d poked his nose into Will’s office as he made his usual evening ‘walkaboat’ to get a verbal report on Rawn’s injury. He hadn’t looked harried or rushed, but neither had he stayed long enough for Will to get a sense of his current mood.

Finding both Lee and Chip already seated, he merely gave them both a quick nod and turned his back to get what he wanted from Cookie’s always ample selections. He did, however, listen carefully to get a feel for the younger men’s current mood. Apparently the dolphins were no longer a topic of discussion, to be replaced by their lack of finding anything amiss at the coordinates Nelson had given them. As he sat down opposite Chip, Admiral Nelson walked in and Lee updated him.

“Next step start a spiral search for any sign of it, sir?” Lee asked.

Nelson nodded as he took his first swallow of coffee. “We’ll search today, but I don’t plan on wasting a large amount of time on what could be a fool’s errand.”

Will was startled when Chip choked and gagged. All three stared at the blond, and Will started to rise and walk around the table as Lee pounded lightly on his friend’s back. But Chip waved Will off, finally getting breath enough to say something too low for Will to hear. Whatever it was, Lee burst out laughing and Chip turned several shades of red.

As Will settled back down Nelson asked sternly, “One of you want to enlighten Will and I to what’s going on?” But Will noticed that Nelson seemed more curious than annoyed.

Will figured that Lee was getting a bit of revenge about the dolphins when he told his boss, with quick little looks at Chip, that since they were assigned the search by Admiral Stark, combined with Nelson’s comment about a Fool’s errand, well… He didn’t finish the sentence as it was both Nelson’s and Will’s turn to chuckle, and Chip turned another, deeper, shade of red.

Nelson shook his fork in the blond’s direction but nothing more was said on that topic. But the two younger men were finished eating and once they left Will pointed an eyebrow at Nelson, who chuckled softly. “Yes, Will, I do believe Lee and Chip are once more even,” and they both grinned broadly as they finished their meal.

* * * *

Chip was fully aware that he had been courting trouble when he kept teasing Lee about the dolphins but it had just been too good an opportunity to pass up. He also was perfectly willing to accept his ‘punishment’ after his unfortunate reaction to Nelson’s totally innocent comment at breakfast. It was exactly that bit of interaction between Seaview’s officers – and crew, and NIMR personnel on occasion – that made for the most comfortable work environment Chip had ever found himself in. It helped tie everyone together into a community that pulled together in the toughest times because they were included so often in the comfortable times. Not to mention that Chip had been harassing his slightly younger best friend since their earliest days at Annapolis.

Now they walked shoulder to shoulder through Seaview’s wide corridors as they headed for the Conn, kibitzing about how far apart their spirals should be, and at what depth. They settled on periscope depth and just inside sonar range. Once at the Chart Table Chip started plotting the course after he took over from Lt. Keeter, and explained the plan to Lt. James when he arrived a few minutes later. Lee wandered around the Conn, checking instruments and chatting with the Duty crew, as was his habit. Once Chip gave the orders to start the search, Lee grabbed up the Duty clipboard and headed out for his normal, casual, walkthrough of the boat. Chip sent Chris James a quick nod as he stepped back and let the lieutenant take over. James was becoming every bit the fine member of Seaview’s crew that he and Lee had expected, once Lee nudged the offensive Bishop out of the Second Officer’s position, to be replaced by the young but quick, smart, James. Chip kept a close watch, just because it was expected. But he was extremely pleased at how Chris handled the maneuvers, and the crew, as he settled Seaview into the slow sweeping search of the area.

* * * *

A broad smile hit Lee’s face once he left the Conn. He’d spent some time the previous evening trying to figure out how he was going to get back at Chip for all the harassment over the dolphins. He’d not come up with anything yet, but Chip’s unfortunate slip at breakfast had provided the perfect opportunity. And especially as it was in front of Nelson and Jamie, not merely something that happened between the two of them. Absolutely perfect, Lee grinned to himself, and it spread as it was returned by everyone he saw on his morning stroll. While not knowing what caused it, everyone was happier when their CO was in a good mood.

Walking into the Missile Room, he found COB Sharkey glaring at the cabinet that held some of the hand-held instruments used on dives. “Problems, Chief?”

Sharkey glanced at him, then focused once more on the cabinet. “I think we have gremlins. Sir,” he added almost as an afterthought, with another quick glance at Lee.

Rather than get irritated at the COB’s apparent almost-slight, it totally amused Lee. Sharkey, for sure, had his own way of doing things. But he also ran one of the tightest subs Lee had ever served on. So he occasionally treated everyone except the Admiral as equals as opposed to superior officers. He never, but never, ignored an obvious order, always responding instantly and correctly to any situation that arose on Seaview’s sometimes whacky missions. “What did they do this time?” Lee asked as he joined the COB looking into the opened cabinet.

“Shifted everything in the locker,” Sharkey complained. “I had the GPS units on top, the small drills for rock collections in the middle, and the underwater welding units on the bottom. Now they’re all backwards.”

“At least each kind is together, not everything scrambled.”

“Don’t give the gremlins any ideas,” was growled softly. “Sir,” was again slightly delayed, although this time it came with an embarrassed glance at his CO.

Lee merely grinned and gave his COB’s shoulder a light tap. “If you discover the gremlins responsible, the Admiral mentioned that he needs a new inventory of the foodstuffs he uses for his lab specimens. Apparently he had to throw some things out because they’d spoiled.”

A determined look hit the COB’s face. “Got it, sir,” he said firmly. Lee chuckled and continued his walkaboat.

Chief Sharkey muttered a few indecipherable threats, after making sure the Skipper had left, and set about putting the equipment in the cabinet back the way he’d decided made the most sense, all the while plotting what, besides the inventory Crane had mentioned, he’d assign to the culprits once he discovered who was responsible for messing up his system. As he worked, he thought back on who of the crew had been assigned duties in the Missile Room since the last time Sharkey had looked into that particular locker, but no probable suspects came to mind. It sounded like something one of the younger crewmen, or someone new to the boat, might think of doing not realizing that, in an emergency, everyone relied on knowing exactly where they could find whatever piece of equipment they might need. Not that this was any major problem; while equipment had been shifted, everything was still in its correct cabinet. But it still ticked off Seaview’s COB, and he promised himself that before this cruise was over he’d find the guilty party!

* * * *

Lt. Chris James was thrilled to get the chance to command the Conn – even if it was merely following a spiral plotted by the XO, and despite the fact that said XO was keeping a casual but careful watch on the young man’s progress. Chris was managing to match the ‘careful’ part, if not so much the ‘casual’. But he was comfortable with the assignment, enjoying the opportunities he was given to be in charge. He understood that it was as much a chance for the Duty Crew to get used to him as it was his chance to get used to them, and he carefully controlled the smile that thought threatened to put on his face. He divided his attention between watching Seaview’s progress, keeping her on course, and listening for even the slightest of indications that Kowalski on Sonar or Patterson on Hydrophones might make that their instruments had picked up the target vessel. Rather than being nervous that Chip hadn’t left, he gained strength from the fact that his XO wasn’t interfering with or correcting any order Chris gave as the giant submarine continued her search.

* * * *

That’s how Lee found the Conn when he returned: Chris at the Chart Table concentrating on his job, and Chip standing partway into the Nose, coffee mug in one hand and a cookie in the other. Before Chris could notice his entrance Lee sent a wink at Chip to acknowledge his XO’s use of training time and finished walking up to the young lieutenant. “Position, Lieutenant?” he asked as he glanced around all the Duty stations.

“Here, sir,” Chris told him instantly, his finger on the navigation chart. “Proceeding at quarter speed so we don’t accidentally miss anything,” he added, not quite hesitantly, but not quite with his usual confidence, either, since it had been his order that slowed the sub when they hit an area of shallow sea mounts and a few actual islets.

“Sounds good,” Lee told him as he glanced at the chart, nodded, and continued forward to pour his own mug of coffee. He gave the plate of cookies a look but didn’t take one, causing Chip to send him a look. “Still full from breakfast,” Lee admitted.

Chip grinned, then asked, “Did you happen to run into Sharkey by any chance? He hasn’t shown up here yet this morning.”

“Did you need him?” Lee instantly questioned.

Chip shrugged. “Not really. It’s just a little unusual.”

Lee nodded. “He’s in the Missile Room having a hissy fit. Someone rearranged one of the equipment cabinets without telling him.”

“Oops,” Chip muttered, but both men grinned softly. “I gather he doesn’t know who.”

Lee shook his head. “I mentioned the Admiral’s need for a new inventory of his specimen foodstuffs if he figures it out.” Chip barely kept from giggling – no one liked that particular job since a lot of the food was extremely smelly. No more were the words out of Lee’s mouth when the COB quietly entered the Conn and took up his frequent position a few steps inside the aft hatch where he could watch the entire Conn. A quirky grin hit Lee’s face. “Guess the contents of the cabinet are back in place,” he said quietly. Chip grinned and nodded, and both men reached this time for a cookie.

* * * *

While never relaxing his attention to the Sonar station he was manning, Senior Rating Kowalski still let an ever so small smile touch his lips. It wasn’t totally unusual to see CO and XO this relaxed, but still rare enough that ‘Ski could tell the whole Conn crew was enjoying it. Lt. James was getting more comfortable handling the Conn. The Duty crew, a good many of them older than the lieutenant, were easily getting comfortable with him. The entire crew liked seeing their Skipper this relaxed; all too often it was the exact opposite. From the very first mission he was aboard, Crane did everything in his power to complete Seaview’s missions and bring everyone home safely. The one thing he didn’t always do was bring himself home safely so the crew did their best to keep an eye on him as much as he kept an eye on them. ‘Ski had been Crane’s diving partner the previous day and had had a moment of concern when the dolphins refused to leave him alone. The animals, usually quite docile, were also known to attack and kill sharks even larger than themselves so they bore watching. But ‘Ski had laughed with others when crewmen on duty in the Conn that afternoon had reported how the XO had spent the shift harassing Crane about the animals’ attention.

As relaxed as both CO and XO were now, leaning against the table in the Nose drinking coffee and eating the cookies Seaview’s chef had brought up earlier, ‘Ski still saw that their eyes, especially Crane’s, were constantly scanning the Conn. And then those eyes were totally focused on ‘Ski as he suddenly saw a quick blip on his screen and he clapped his hands over both ear pieces, trying to hear whatever had created the blip. Instantly he had Crane looking over one shoulder and Morton the other as he glared at his screen. He heard XO Morton order ‘All Stop’, and Crane add ‘Reverse, Dead Slow’. But whatever had triggered the momentary blip was gone, and all ‘Ski could do was shake his head and shrug. “Sorry, sirs,” he told them. “No clue what it was, and now it’s gone.”

“Lt. James,” he heard Morton say as he continued to flip dials, “mark the position.”

“Aye, sir,” came back instantly.

“Lee?” was the XO’s next word.

“Continue the spiral,” came from ‘Ski’s right, where Crane was still standing, watching the Sonar screen. “But we’ll come back here for a second look if nothing else turns up.”

Rats, Kowalski grumbled silently. While he could have done nothing differently he was still ticked that, because of him, the quiet moment in the Nose had been destroyed. Lt. James was still the one giving the orders but Mr. Morton was staying fairly close. Cdr. Crane was strolling through the Conn and what looked like casually glancing at all the instrumentation. ‘Ski knew better; his CO was totally focused on everything around him, no longer relaxed. The rating bumped his knee into the Sonar. The next time you blip there better be something there, he ordered silently, and checked a couple more switches.

* * * *

Nelson had just walked into the Wardroom for coffee when he felt Seaview stop and back up. He was about to call the Conn to find out why when the submarine continued forward. Shrugging, he polished off the mugful that he’d poured, and realized that Cookie was watching him from the pass-through into the Galley.

“No matter what else is going on,” he told the premier chef – and Seaview’s back-up Nuclear Reactor Technician – “I can always count on the coffee.”

“As long as Seaview has power,” Cookie told him seriously, “so will her crew.” It was Seaview lore that the crew ran on the black, extra strong brew Cookie lovingly called ‘Joe’. His craggy face broke into a smile, matched by Nelson.

“Better go see what that little maneuver was,” Nelson told him as he put the mug into the tray for dirty dishes. “Although, since we’re once again moving and Lee hasn’t called out any notification…” He let the sentence drop with another shrug, and then paused and took a deep breath of the smells coming from the Galley.

“Stew and biscuits for lunch,” Cookie told him, and turned back to his pots and pans.

“Works for me,” Nelson grinned and headed forward, his curiosity now piqued.

Cookie went back to cutting out rounds from the soft dough he’d made, and putting them on cookie sheets to bake. His assistant, Higgins, was keeping an eye on several large pots of beef stew loaded with potatoes and carrots, bubbling away on the stoves. As Cookie filled one tray Higgins replaced it with an empty one and stacked the filled ones, ready to pop into the ovens when it was time.

“Why don’t you go ahead with the first few trays, and take them down to the Crew’s Mess along with most of the stew,” Cookie told the seaman. “There’s always someone ready to eat down there.”

“Yep,” Higgins agreed with a grin, and turned on the ovens to preheat as Cookie grabbed another batch of dough and started rolling it out to his desired thickness.

Cookie loved his job aboard Seaview. Well, jobs, he revised as his large rolling pin made short work of dealing with the soft dough that turned into the light, delicious biscuits his grandmother had taught him to make many years ago. He’d been hired on as the assistant to Seaview’s ‘Bull Nuke’, Chief Mason, keeping the sub’s nuclear reactor in perfect running order. An accident during Seaview’s first year, under Capt. John Phillips, had injured the boat’s chef and Phillips had asked for volunteers to man the Galley. Senior Technician Winston Barnard, who until then had kept his culinary skills to himself because he’d been razzed too many times that it wasn’t ‘manly’, stepped up and took over that part of the sub. He had never heard the complete story, but suddenly the old cook was gone and the job was his, now rarely called anything except ‘Cookie’. One day a month he still worked with Chief Mason and his assistant to keep up his nuclear training, but his primary assignment was keeping the sub’s crew well-fed.

Another grin split his face. Well, that’s my official duty. What I work the hardest at is keeping something available that Cdr. Crane will eat. He chuckled, then looked around to make sure Higgins hadn’t heard him. He was perfectly comfortable with his skills in the Galley, and there were rarely any complaints from the crew. When Cdr. Crane came aboard it took a while – and some quiet comments from XO Morton – to make Cookie understand that there was nothing wrong with the food, just, Crane wasn’t a big eater. Eventually things got sorted out and now Cookie was extremely happy with his life aboard the giant sub. He’d developed a crusty exterior merely to keep crewmen from asking for special favors. But he knew how to keep everyone happy. Plentiful, good tasting food and extra strong coffee were the keys. If he set aside an extra piece of cherry pie for the XO, or made a plate of cookies appear in the Nose, so be it. A contented crew made for a happy boat, and it started with the officers.

Noise behind him turned out to be Higgins putting two trays of biscuits into each of Seaview’s large ovens, and Cookie stopped his wool-gathering and got back to working with the dough he still had left.

* * * *

All seemed quiet as Nelson came through the aft hatch into the Conn. Young Lt. James was quietly giving orders, Chip was close by but neither hovering nor interrupting his usual Second most days in the Conn, and Lee was meandering around, glancing at all the instruments and sharing a few words with each crewman. COB Sharkey turned as Nelson entered but even he was relaxed, giving no indication of what had caused the earlier maneuver.

“Chief,” he acknowledged Sharkey. “All quiet?”

“Yes, sir,” Sharkey told him with his usual soft smile. “There was a quick blip on Sonar but it turned out to be nothing.”

“Ah,” Nelson nodded. He saw Lee notice his entrance and send him a raised eyebrow and he smiled, nodded again to Sharkey, and continued forward into the Nose, joined there by both Lee and Chip. “Noticed we’d stopped for a bit,” he told them by way of explaining his presence.

“Kowalski had a quick blip but it instantly disappeared again,” Lee told him. “We marked the chart, and we’ll re-check it later if we don’t find anything during the rest of the spiral search.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Nelson reached over and snagged one of the remaining cookies. Lee instantly buried a grin but Chip had to turn his back, causing Nelson to grin broadly. “Don’t spoil your appetites,” he tried to order both, but from Lee’s expression that’s not quite how it came out. “Just came from the Wardroom and the smells were wonderful.”

“Yes, sir,” Lee told him, “but we’ll probably eat in shifts.” He nodded toward the Chart Table, indicating the ongoing search.

Nelson swallowed the last of the cookie. “Or come to a stop until everyone has eaten and resume later. There’s no hurry.”

“Yes, sir,” Lee surrendered, acknowledging his habit of skipping meals if there was even the slightest chance he might be needed somewhere else on the boat. Chip grinned, Nelson nodded, and he headed up the spiral stairs.

* * * *

Seaman Mickelson, usually working in Engineering but cross-trained in several other areas, and Seaman Macklin, one of Seaview’s Damage Control Specialists, were both headed for the Crew’s Mess at the same time when they ran into Higgins pushing a cart from which was emanating delicious smells. They helped the Galley assistant set everything up, then promptly helped themselves to the simple but excellent meal.

“Any idea what’s going on?” Macklin asked around a big bite of biscuit. “I’ve been stuck in the rear Hold replacing a couple of fried switches.”

“Only third hand,” Mickelson told him, also around a spoonful of food. “You know about being sent by ComSubPac to search for a ship of some sort.” Macklin nodded. “Apparently there was a blip of something on Sonar, but turned out to be nothing.” Suddenly he snickered. “Did you hear about someone messing up how Sharkey had some equipment stowed in one of the Missile Room lockers?”

“No,” Macklin shook his head. “Who did it?”

Mickelson shrugged. “As far as I heard, no one knows.”

“Somebody’s head’s going to roll.”

“Only if he gets caught.” They both laughed, then quickly grabbed seconds of the food items as more crewmen started showing up.

* * * *

Chip decided that he’d probably better take matters into his own hands, even with Nelson’s comments, and at 1155 hours loudly – for him – had Lt. James give the commands to bring Seaview to a halt and hold station. He ignored Lee’s instant frown, at that point leaning over Helmsman Leyton’s shoulder, and purposely headed for the aft hatch mentally crossing his fingers that he heard Lee’s footsteps following. It was not unknown for Lee to ignore Nelson’s ‘suggestions’ no matter what. This time, however, he caught a quick smile on Sharkey’s face as he passed the COB, and soon heard Lee’s distinctive cadence of steps behind him. Slowing slightly once he was out the hatch, he let Lee catch up and they walked to the Wardroom side by side. Nelson was already there, and Will entered as they were dishing up their food.

“Before you ask, Skipper,” Will told his conscientious captain, “I just checked Rawn’s burns. Didn’t even have to re-bandage them. They will still be tender to the touch but in a day or so he won’t even notice them.”

“Good,” Chip muttered. “Then I don’t have to adjust the Duty logs.”

Lee lightly backhanded the blond. “And what menial task have you assigned him?”

Both Nelson and Will grinned. Seaman Rawn wasn’t Chip’s favorite crewman. Well, to be fair, as XO Chip didn’t play favorites. But the still-occasionally-abrasive Rawn tended to get on his XO’s nerves faster than anyone else – with the possible exception of COB Sharkey. “As if you didn’t already know,” Chip returned the backhand, and Lee grinned sheepishly. “Light duty today; he and Patterson are still puttering with some auxiliary equipment. But Bobby O’Brien asked for him in Propulsion tomorrow for some cross-training.”

“Asked for him?” Will’s voice held a note of incredulity.

“Despite his personality,” Lee answered, “he has an incredible talent for mechanics as well as electronics.”

“I suspect,” Chip took up the explanation, “it’s simply that he relates to machines far easier than people.”

As both Nelson and Will nodded, Lee added with a smirk, “Sort of like you and computers.”

Any retaliation Chip might have made was stopped by both the two older men laughing out loud, and all four concentrated on their meal.

* * * *

With the exception of her most senior officers, and moments of total chaos, Seaview’s crew watches were normally “A” from 0800 hours to 1400, “B” from 1400 to 2000, “C” from 2000 to 0200, and “D” from 0200 to 0800. Variations happened but Chip tried to keep the regular crewmen to regular shifts of no more than six hours at a time. Department Heads usually maintained their own logs but Chip always had copies on the Chart Table. It was why he’d muttered at Lee about knowing Seaman Rawn’s scheduled duties.

“A” had barely moved to “B” in the Conn when Seaman Daystrom, now on Sonar, spoke a bit loudly, “Contact, sirs.” Chip had once more allowed Chris James to take over the search once the young lieutenant had returned from his own lunch break, and was in the Nose eying the one cookie left on the plate from that morning while Lee had gone off for one of his casual walkaboats. Dessert instantly forgotten, Chip ordered “All Stop” and hurried to the Chart Table, where Chris pointed to Seaview’s current position and marked the direction of Sonar’s target. He’d barely called “Up Scope” when Lee hurried through the aft hatch. “What took you so long?” he teased his CO softly; apparently Lee hadn’t been far away when he’d felt Seaview stop, and gave him the directional coordinates as Lee stepped up to the periscope island.

Nelson obviously hadn’t been far, either, as he came scurrying down the spiral stairs. “Lee?” he said as he reached the Chart Table.

“Something, sir,” Lee answered, never taking his eyes off the periscope. “Chip, surface and ease us in that direction.” He did then ever so briefly look at Chip. “But keep an eye on the bottom. I can’t quite make it out but it looks like a marshy atoll.” He shrugged as his eyes went back to the scope. “Or something,” came out softly not quite to himself.

Chip nodded to Chris James to continue giving the orders, and he kept a close watch on the depth gauge as Nelson headed for the front windows. As Seaview hit the relatively calm surface Chip sent lookouts topside and Lee joined Nelson in the Nose. The topography wouldn’t let them get very close, but still close enough. “Not the derelict,” Lee decided as the pair tried to decipher what they were seeing. Sitting on a marshy, scraggly tree covered spit of atoll was a boat. Or part of a boat. It was a little hard to tell. “Unless I’m totally missing something, that hasn’t floated since World War Two, sir.”

“Maybe even World War One,” Nelson agreed. “Although, I don’t remember it marked on any of the charts of this area.”

“Orders, sir?”

Nelson shrugged. “Continue the search. At least for now.” He hesitated. “But I might want to come back here. If that hulk isn’t too firmly grounded, perhaps we can pull it out deeper and it can still be of use to help build a reef.”

“Yes, sir. You don’t think that this is what whoever reported the derelict saw by mistake?”

“I wouldn’t think so, with all the scrub trees around it.” He sent Lee a quirky smile. “But I suppose anything’s possible.”

“Yes, sir. Chip?”

“Lieutenant,” Chip nodded and told Chris, “back to the spiral search.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

* * * *

Lt.’s O’Brien and Keeter often found themselves eating meals at the same time. Breakfast was a fairly regular thing; O’Brien usually hit his rack as soon as Keeter took the Conn from him at 0200 hours, and was just waking up and ready for sustenance – mostly coffee – as Keeter finished his shift, plus paperwork, about 0900. Keeter would then crash until roughly 1600 hours while O’Brien spent those hours in Propulsion. So usually, about 1630, Keeter was up and hungry, and O’Brien was ready for food before crashing for a few hours before once more taking the Conn at 2000 hours. Dinner times didn’t always mesh, depending on what was going on, but this afternoon it did and each caught the other up on whatever happened to be going on. Keeter hadn’t heard about Sharkey’s locker woes, and O’Brien hadn’t heard about the old wreck they’d run into or Nelson’s proposed plans for it. Bobby was instantly irritated. “He wants to use Seaview to drag it off whatever bit of land it’s stuck on?” Keeter could only shrug. “Swell. My engines weren’t meant to be draft horses,” he growled.

Keeter chuckled. “Seaview wasn’t meant to do a lot of things we end up in the middle of.”

O’Brien nodded. “Got me there,” he agreed.

“Worry about it tomorrow,” Keeter advised. “For now we’re back on the spiral search, and who knows? By morning the Admiral may have found something else to get us mixed up in and you’ll wish it was merely shifting a hunk of junk.” They both shuddered, and finished their meal.

* * * *

Lt. Cdr. William Jamison, who Nelson called Will, Lee and Chip usually called Jamie, and pretty much everyone else on the sub called Doc, was engrossed in the latest mystery novel he’d picked up by one of his favorite authors, Jonathan Kellerman, when he felt Seaview stop. Glancing at his watch he grinned; almost dinnertime. Thank you, Admiral, he silently toasted the air with his empty coffee cup, marked his place in the book, and stood up. As at lunch, Will figured that Nelson had ordered the boat to stop the search long enough that both Lee and Chip would eat a decent meal. Oh, he admitted as he also headed for the Wardroom, Seaview’s XO was rarely a problem. But it didn’t take much to sidetrack her Skipper. Will had to admit that, barring accident or illness, Lee maintained a healthy, if lean, weight. But he was also so active a person that even one skipped meal, what little he ate at the best of times, could mean a loss of weight, so Will was happy that so far this trip there had been no issues, and apparently Nelson was helping that along.

He met the three just as they all approached the Wardroom door. “Fresh bread,” he heard Chip breathe out. “Love that smell.”

“You love food, period,” Lee muttered. Will thought that Seaview’s Skipper looked and sounded annoyed, and raised an eyebrow at Nelson, trailing after the other two by several steps. Nelson gave an abbreviated shake of his head and Will plastered a smile on his face as he motioned the younger men ahead of him through the door, then grinned broader when Nelson motioned Will ahead of himself.

There was, indeed, fresh bread in the form of Cookie’s special whole wheat rolls. They accompanied oven-fried chicken, mashed potatoes, fruit salad, and green beans cooked with small bits of bacon. Will was pleased to note that whatever had caused Lee’s apparent snit didn’t seem to have affected his appetite. While his tray wasn’t nearly as full as Chip’s, there was a sufficient amount of everything on it that even Will was happy. Now, if he’ll just eat it all, Will breathed silently and started filling his own tray. While he tried to go heavy on the salad, meat, and veggies, Cookie’s mashed potatoes were special, made with butter, cream, and a little cheese, and Will couldn’t resist two of the rolls.

Once he sat down in his usual spot opposite Chip he tried to concentrate on his own meal and not seem to spy on the younger pair. For their part Chip was nattering at Lee, between bites, about something that had apparently happened earlier in the afternoon. Once Nelson also sat down, opposite Lee, he raised an eyebrow as Lee tried to shrug off Chip’s mild chiding.

Will had to bury a grin as Lee caught Nelson’s unspoken question. Nothing but nothing seemed to get past the younger man. “It was probably nothing, Admiral,” the brunet tried to shrug off his boss as well as his XO. “Just, when we were close by the spot Kowalski had gotten a small blip this morning, passing it on the opposite side as we made the next loop, Daystrom also got the briefest of blips. I wasn’t in the Conn at the time,” he sent a small glare at Chip. “Didn’t find out until I came back about twenty minutes later.” He sent a sideways glance at Chip. “I should have been notified,” came out in a small growl.

“And there was nothing to notify you about,” Chip continued. “It was even smaller than ‘Ski’s contact, in exactly the same place, we were just hitting it from the other side as we spiraled out, and we’d already said that we were going to check it out once the current search was completed. There was no reason to ream either Daystrom or Chris out about it.”

Lee’s fork landed on the table. “I didn’t ream either of them out,” he told Chip firmly. “If anyone was going to get reamed, it was you.”

Chip shrugged. “You and Sharkey were snipe-hunting,” he told his CO with the beginnings of a broad grin, but promptly stuffed his mouth with a big forkful of mashed potatoes.

“Excuse me?” Will couldn’t help himself. Chip all but giggled through his mouthful of food. Lee got a bit of the sheepish look that came so easily to his face at times but Will was thankful that he picked his fork back up.

“Lee?” it was Nelson’s turn to nudge.

Lee shrugged, took a bite of chicken, and finally answered both older men. “Sharkey discovered this morning that some equipment in one storage cabinet in the Missile Room had been rearranged. He put it back the way he wanted it,” he paused to take another bite, “but when he checked it this afternoon it had all been rearranged again.” This time Lee smiled. “He requested I come down and confirm that it wasn’t just his imagination.” Another bite of food, and an even broader grin. “He thinks we have gremlins.” He nudged Chip’s shoulder with his own. “Chip suggested snipes.”

“You know,” Chip added, “the mischievous little animals the older kids at summer camp always harass the younger campers about?” His smile was brilliant.

Even Will had to grin, and noticed Nelson did as well. “I gather,” Will contributed, now that Lee seemed to have calmed down, “that the guilty ‘gremlin’ has not been identified?”

“Nope,” Lee told him. “Sharkey’s last suggestion was borrowing one of the Admiral’s little cameras he uses once in a while on the spear guns, and rigging it to go off if anyone opens the cabinet.”

“Humm,” Nelson offered, “he hasn’t come to me so far.” Lee merely shrugged.

“Snipes are invisible, that’s why they’re so hard to find,” Chip told them all seriously, but stuffed a bite of roll in his mouth before he could laugh out loud.

“Isn’t there usually crewmen assigned to the Missile Room twenty-four/seven?” Will asked both younger men.

“Yes,” Lee answered as Chip was still trying to get himself back under control. “And Sharkey has questioned everyone that was either working there or had any reason to go there. But everyone alibi’s each other; no one was ever alone.”

“Or two together are yanking his chain,” Chip added, back under control. Mostly. Will still saw the blond struggle to contain his humor. It made Will wonder if he perhaps knew more about the hijinks than he was letting on. It had been a quiet cruise.

Lee shrugged. “It’s not causing any trouble. Well,” he amended, “except to Sharkey.” He sent a quick grin to the others. “I’m staying out of it.”

“Sounds like a perfect idea,” Will told him. What he didn’t say was, he was extremely glad that the conversation had swung away from the sonar blip to Sharkey’s gremlin because Lee was nearly matching Chip in finishing off his meal – a huge improvement from the first couple of minutes after they’d all sat down. Will was a happy camper!

* * * *

Just before Will was due back from his evening meal John, the junior of his two corpsmen, although ‘junior’ only in time served aboard Seaview, Frank having beaten him by a couple of months, wandered into Sick Bay still trying to digest his own dinner.

Frank grinned as John walked slowly over to where the senior corpsman was standing, doing a quick check on the equipment Will kept stocked in his small surgery area. “Over-eat again?”

“Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and fresh rolls,” John answered. “Hard not to,” he admitted. “Everything quiet?” Barring times when it was ‘all hands on deck’ Frank took the day watch with Will, and John covered Seaview’s night.

“Yep,” Frank nodded. “Kinda nice for a change.”

“Why don’t you head for dinner, then,” John suggested. Usually they waited for Doc to get back from his meal, and the three would cover anything that needed discussing. But with no patients to update, and everything else double- and triple-checked because of the so far quiet cruise, Frank agreed and headed off for his own meal.

“I’ll swing back in once I’ve eaten and before I crash,” he told John. “Just in case,” he added with a grin. John returned it and Frank headed for the Crew’s Mess.

He was just sitting down to his own slightly overloaded tray, grimacing slightly that he was going to be feeling like John all too quickly – but enjoying every last bite – when he was joined by Seamen Brewster and Maxwell, two of Seaview’s master mechanics and members of her Damage Control team. “What’s new?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Nothing much,” Maxwell started.

“If you discount both O’Brien’s and the COB’s temper tantrums,” Brewster added before both he and Maxwell snickered.

“Now what?” Frank asked. But there was no concern in his voice, with the other two apparently so amused.

“You know that the Conn has been searching for a derelict of some sort?” Maxwell started.

“About all I’ve heard, and that so far they haven’t found it. Did that change?”

“Nope. Well,” Brewster took up the tale, “not that I know of. But they did run across some old rust bucket grounded on a spit of land. The Admiral has decided that once the search is over we’ll go back and use Seaview to drag it far enough offshore so that it can help build up whatever reefs are in the area.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Frank asked. “Sounds like a great idea.”

“O’Brien hasn’t stopped muttering about using his engines for a tugboat.” All three chuckled.

“So,” Frank asked, “he got Sharkey wound up about it, hoping he’d go to the Admiral and try to talk him out of the idea?”

Brewster shook his head. “Sharkey’s torqued because someone keeps shifting equipment around in one of the storage lockers in the Missile Room. You know, top to bottom, bottom to top; nothing missing, merely shuffled slightly. Probably no one else would give it a thought. But the COB…” He shrugged and chuckled.

“No one knows better than Sharkey how things should be stored,” Maxwell said seriously, and then totally cracked up. “He’s about to throttle someone. Except, he can’t find out who’s doing it.” They all cracked up, then had to quickly get themselves back under control as Sharkey walked in to get his own meal.

Frank was the first to regain control. “How goes the search for the derelict, COB?” he asked.

“Nothing so far,” Sharkey answered. “I think that the Admiral is about to give up.” He grinned. “Chalk up another one to Admiral Stark’s misinformation.” But he quickly looked around to make sure who had – and more importantly, who hadn’t – heard the comment.

Frank grinned. “Still early, Chief. The officers are pretty much either on duty or in the Wardroom.” Sharkey frowned. He wasn’t thrilled that Frank seemed to be making fun of him. Especially because, as part of the Medical section directly under Doc, the two corpsmen weren’t in the COB’s chain of command so he had no way to retaliate.

The other three were carefully not saying anything about the storage cabinet but half a dozen other crewmen walked in about then, Patterson and Rawn among them and, as was frequently the case, the outspoken Rawn couldn’t resist a jab, especially surrounded by so many others. “Found your gremlin yet, COB?” he asked, loud enough to be heard in the entire room.

“Don’t suppose you know anything about that,” Sharkey growled, staring at the man.

“Not a thing, COB,” Rawn said with a smirky grin on his face. He held up his hands, still showing signs of slight burns. “I’ve either been in Sick Bay, helping Patterson, or in my rack monitored by him,” he pointed to Frank.

Sharkey glared at the corpsman. “I can vouch for him, Chief,” Frank confirmed. “At least the medical part.”

“And I can confirm the rest,” Patterson added. “We’ve been pretty tied up working on some equipment. Haven’t been near the Missile Room.”

“Humph,” Sharkey muttered, finished filling his tray, and went to eat by himself in a corner.

* * * *

Patterson’s next Duty shift started at 2000 hours at the Hydrophone station in the Conn. When he slipped in the aft hatch at 1945 hours the Conn was crowded with current crew being quietly but efficiently replaced with the next shift. Lt. O’Brien was in conversation at the Chart Table with XO Morton. Admiral Nelson was in the Nose with the Skipper, both with their backs to the Conn and looking out Seaview’s unique windows. He tapped Seaman Kyle on the shoulder, letting him know that he was there to take over, and the two quickly changed places. Kyle let Pat know the current status, Pat nodded, they both glanced at Lt. O’Brien, who nodded back as he made a note on the Duty log, and Kyle headed out.

It seemed that the officers were waiting until the new shift was completely in place before changing orders. Mr. Morton pulled Seaview from the spiral search and headed toward where both Kowalski and Daystrom had gotten small blips on Sonar. Someone – probably the Skipper, although no one confirmed it – had asked Kowalski to once more man Sonar, and Seaview’s Senior Rating was totally focused on his station as the sub eased toward the target. Pat kept his attention on his own station; while it had noticed nothing at either of Sonar’s hits Pat took no chances, just in case.

As Seaview eased forward at quarter speed Pat saw Crane leave the Nose and come to stand next to Kowalski. Once Sonar made contact with whatever it found, Crane picked up the second headphones and pressed one side to his own ear as he watched the screen. Then Pat had to bury a grin as they approached the blip and Nelson called out from the Nose, “All Stop.” Pat saw Crane share a quick shrug with ‘Ski and he rejoined Nelson in the Nose as they came to a stop. Pat glanced at Kowalski, who was frowning.

“Reads like a small metal fishing boat,” ‘Ski told him softly. “Probably went down in a storm.” They both felt Seaview start to settle deeper so that Nelson and Crane could try to get a good look at the wreckage.

Whatever it was, both Nelson and Crane lost interest fairly quickly. “What now, sir?” Pat heard Crane ask the OOM as they both walked back toward the Chart Table.

“I call Jiggs and tell him we couldn’t find whatever the other ship thought that they saw, and we go back to the one we did find and see if we can shift it into deeper waters.”

“Yes, sir,” Crane told him. Nelson headed up the spiral stairs, no doubt headed for his cabin to keep his conversation with ComSubPac private, and Crane spoke softly to O’Brien. “Since we can’t do anything until daylight anyway, don’t get in a hurry taking us back, Bobby.”

“No, sir. Orders when we get there?”

“Stand off and get a feel for what’s in the vicinity,” Crane told him. “We’ll need to figure out how firmly it’s grounded. Well,” Pat heard a smile in his voice, “first we have to figure out what it is.”

“Yes, sir,” Pat heard O’Brien answer in kind.

“With luck we can put cables on it attached to a couple of handholds on Seaview’s hull, and drag it off the atoll with a minimum of effort.”

“Yes, sir.” Even with headphones in place Pat heard the mutter in O’Brien’s voice.

Apparently Crane heard it as well because there was a short chuckle. “We won’t hurt Seaview in the process,” Crane assured O’Brien. “If the hulk is too firmly grounded we’ll figure something else out. I promise.”

“Yes, sir,” came out firmly. There was another chuckle, Crane headed out the aft hatch, no doubt headed for his usual evening stroll through the boat, and XO Morton headed up the stairs, probably to his cabin. Pat returned total focus to the headphones as Seaview slowly backed off and headed on her new course.

* * * *

Seaview’s Master-At-Arms, Chief Hauck, was reviewing a few procedures with Seamen Jackson and Monroe of his Security team when COB Sharkey walked into his small office. “Oops, sorry, Chief,” Sharkey said as he realized he was interrupting, and started to back out.

“Come on in, COB,” Hauck told him. “We’re done.” He dismissed his men and motioned for Sharkey to sit down. “What’s up?”

“Someone’s messing with equipment,” Sharkey growled, dropping into a chair.

“I heard.” Hauck decided that he’d apparently been successful burying his humor at the situation since Sharkey didn’t seem to notice any change in the MAA’s expression. “What do you need?”

“Got a camera I can hide somewhere?”

“Think that I can come up with something,” Hauck told him. “But I’ll need some privacy to set it up so no one sees me.”

Sharkey glanced at his watch. “About 2330 hours? How long will you need?”

Hauck pondered for a few seconds. “Call it fifteen minutes; twenty to be sure.”

“You got it, and thanks.”

“What I’m here for, solving security problems.”

“Harrumph,” Sharkey muttered, nodded and rose. “I’ll have the Missile Room secure by 2320. You’ll have at least twenty, twenty-five minutes.”

Hauck nodded and Sharkey left. Hauck waited an extra minute before he burst out laughing, but went in search of what he’d need to set up surveillance of the specific equipment cabinet.

* * * *

Lee felt Seaview rise in the water as he finished dressing the next morning. He took a glance out Seaview’s windows as he came down the spiral stairs, then gave his head a shake. “You’re not seeing things,” came from the Chart Table, and Lee glanced at Chip with a pointed eyebrow. “Allow me to rephrase that,” the blond amended as Lt. Keeter had to bury a chuckle. “What you aren’t seeing,” Chip tried again, “is a small bit of land covered with small skinny trees, separated by a swampy marsh from a bigger bit of land, also covered with skinny, scraggly trees, all at the moment buried in a thick layer of fog, somewhere in the middle of which is the rust bucket remains of a boat of some sort.”

Lee grinned. “Got it,” he told Chip and Keeter. “I think.”

“It’s a little confusing,” Keeter offered. “O’Brien said that he pulled in just before I took over at 0200, and from the periscope everything was clear. We decided to settle Seaview deep enough to stay well out of any traffic that might happen through.” Both Lee and Chip nodded; that was SOP for Seaview if she was stationary overnight. “I came back to periscope depth at 0615, just before sunrise, and found that.” He waved a hand at the front windows, out which could be seen nothing but a shifting mass of heavy gray fog.

“I awoke early,” Chip added, “decided I couldn’t go back to sleep, and got here about half an hour ago. Decided to surface since the weather seems calm. Wanted to see if it was general or just, for some reason, localized around the periscope when Keeter checked. Just waiting for further orders.”

“You mean, you were waiting until Cookie would have breakfast set out,” Lee teased the blond.

Chip shrugged. “That, too,” he easily accepted the jibe with a quick grin.

“I’m not sure I like being on the surface in this pea soup. Seaview only has lights at the front; not much to warn anyone of our presence.”

“Good point,” Chip admitted. “Although, so far we seem to be alone out here.” Lee shrugged, and Chip turned to Lt. Keeter, who still had the Conn. “Back to periscope depth until we figure out what we’re doing.”

“Aye, aye, sirs.” He started giving the commands, and Lee and Chip stayed only a couple more minutes before they both headed for the Wardroom.

They apprised Admiral Nelson of the situation when he joined them about halfway through their meal, he not having come by way of the Conn.

“Interesting,” was his thought as he ate. “Unusual, but not unknown for this area given certain conditions.” He paused to take another bite. “Suggestions?”

“Since we can’t do a proper inspection from this distance, I suggest taking a swim over and doing it in person,” Lee offered. At both Chip’s and Nelson’s instantly still shoulders he continued. “We’d have to do it anyway, to get a good fix on how firmly it’s grounded, and if we can even get cables on it somewhere firm enough to pull it off the atoll.”

“Granted,” Nelson nodded. But both Lee and Chip could see him pondering the options and remained silent.

They were interrupted by Will walking in, trying hard not to laugh out loud and failing miserably. “Jamie’s in a good mood,” Lee got out with his own smile.

“Care to share, Will?” Nelson asked.

“Sharkey’s been hanging around the Skipper way too long,” came back. Lee frowned as Nelson and Chip grinned, but all remained silent until Will had filled his tray and sat down next to the Admiral. “You all know about the COB’s ongoing ‘battle’ with someone messing with some equipment.” The others nodded.

“The latest was,” Lee added, “he had Chief Hauck set up a hidden camera pointed at that specific locker last night just before 2400 hours. I haven’t had a chance to check yet this morning if he got results.”

“Oh,” Will grinned broadly, “he got results alright.” He paused to take a bite of his breakfast as the others waited, in Nelson’s case impatiently. He hated long explanations. “When he checked it at 0530…” He sent a glance around the table. “He was also impatient.” That was sent directly at Nelson.

“Harrumph,” the Admiral muttered and shoved a bite of food in his mouth.

“Anyway, the equipment in the cabinet had once more been shifted, but the camera lens had been sprayed with something to block the view…”

“The camera was destroyed?” Lee demanded, interrupting the story.

“Apparently not, from what I could get through Sharkey’s rantings. Whoever it is used a light coating of oil. It degraded the focus but was easily cleaned off.”

“How did you get involved?” Nelson got out, back under control.

Will chuckled. “Sharkey got so mad that he kicked the nearest thing to him, the control for the Diving Bell.”

“Ouch,” came out before Lee could stop it. Nelson grinned and Chip all but giggled. Not long after Lee had come to NIMR he’d had an unfortunate incident with one of the locks on the torpedo racks aboard Seaview.* “How many broken bones,” Lee asked with one of his shy smiles.

Will grinned but shook his head. “When I got to Sick Bay John had just finished taking a quick x-ray. Nothing broken, but Sharkey’s going to have a noticeable limp for a while.”

“And still no idea who his gremlin is,” Chip added, still grinning.

Nelson’s look turned speculative at the blond’s continued humor. “Don’t suppose you know anything about that?” he asked his XO

That sat Chip up straight. “No, sir,” he told Nelson firmly.

“And you call yourself a good XO,” Lee nudged the blond’s shoulder with his own. “You’re supposed to know everything that’s going on.” The glare he got back for that comment had both older men across the table smiling broadly.

“And just how much do you know about it?” Chip demanded. The pause before he added “Sir,” cracked the others up.

Even Lee, who merely shrugged. “Kind of had other things occupying my time,” he told his XO – and best friend.

“Harrumph,” Chip muttered softly before stuffing another bite of food in his mouth.

“The derelict, sir?” Lee got back to business with his question to Nelson.

The Admiral hesitated, as if he wasn’t quite ready to give up discussing Sharkey’s gremlin, but also finally shrugged. “You’d prefer to scuba across, not take a zodiac?” he finally asked.

“From what we could see before, where it’s grounded looks so marshy that we might as well use wetsuits just to help stay clean while we figure out what we can and can’t do.”

“Laundry would no doubt appreciate that,” Chip chimed in. “We can hose off the wetsuits.”

“And if you use the extra-heavy ones,” Will added, “they will help protect the men from whatever bugs or creepy-crawlies might be there.”

“That means the silver ones,” Chip told him. “Lee will get lost in the fog.”

“With luck, by the time I have a team ready to go,” Lee instantly sniped back, “the sun will be doing a decent job burning off the fog.”

Nelson couldn’t help himself as the pair continued to smart off at each other and laughed out loud. While he did enjoy the fact that the boat was relaxed enough to allow for this kind of sniping between the two friends, it was time to get more serious. “I had a look last night at what charts there are of the area…”

“Not much,” Lee told him, then sent him a shy smile for cutting Nelson’s comment off. “I looked, too.”

“We aren’t going to be able to get Seaview all that close,” Nelson finished.

Lee nodded. “I was thinking using the Diving Bell cable. It’s the longest we’ve got, and certainly strong enough if the derelict isn’t too buried in the muck to move.”

Nelson pondered that. “We’ll have to shift the bell so we can open the bottom hatch.”

“And figure out how to pad the edge of the hatch so we don’t scrape the cable.”

“A couple of heavy-duty explosion-protection mats should handle that,” Chip jumped in. “We might damage the mats but they’re cheaper to replace than the cable.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nelson agreed. “Lee, pick your team.”

“Sort of figured that you’d go, sir, to evaluate the whatever-it-is for use as a reef-builder.” He sent Jamie a glance. “Was going to suggest Sharkey to help you,” he turned back to Nelson, “but guess not now.”

“Kowalski,” Chip offered. “He’s about the only one who has a chance of keeping you out of trouble.” Nelson’s and Will’s laughter was the only thing that kept Lee from smacking his insolent XO. “Nielson, Robertson, and Richardson,” Chip continued, naming three of Seaview’s strongest divers.

“Six is all the heavy wetsuits we have,” Lee added.

Nelson nodded. “We’ve never needed any more than that.”

“Six is more than enough to check out the derelict,” Lee assured him.

“How about you and I, Kowalski, and Robertson, head over as reconnaissance. If we think we can shift the derelict, Nielson and Richardson can swim the cable over.”

“Sounds like a plan, sir.” Chip nodded as well. The rest of the meal was finished quickly by Lee and Chip, and they headed out to get things organized.

* * * *

“Skipper?” Kowalski asked an hour later as the six-person team started to suit up. Lee glanced at him as he zipped up the front of the heavy silver wetsuit. “I understand the need for the heavy suits but why scuba tanks? We can swim over on the surface, and it’s less weight when we’re trying to walk around.”

Lee glanced at Nelson. “That actually makes perfect sense for us,” Nelson told him. “Niel and Rich will have to use tanks to bring the cable over; that’s assuming that we figure we can shift the wreck.”

“Works for me,” Lee agreed. “Thanks, ‘Ski.” The Senior Rating looked a little embarrassed for making the suggestion to superior officers, but also a little pleased that he’d guessed right. “But use your hoods,” Lee added. “We don’t know what we’re getting into.” He got “Aye, aye, sirs,” from all four seamen. Kowalski and Robertson also picked up spear guns – just in case – and they followed Nelson and Lee forward to leave out the boarding hatch now that Seaview had surfaced. Sharkey handed Nelson and Lee radios they could attach to their belts since they weren’t going to be using the scuba masks with built-in communication equipment.

Lt. Keeter had ‘parked’ Seaview so she was pointed toward the derelict’s bow. It was the deepest water around the area that he and O’Brien had found. Chip was able to maneuver a little closer but the men still had about a fifty-yard swim; easy enough for the excellent swimmers most of Seaview’s crew were. When they reached the small atoll, Lee and Nelson headed straight for the derelict as Kowalski and Robertson kept a lookout. For what, they weren’t sure, but no one was taking any chances. Chip had reported that Sonar wasn’t picking up anything, and Hydrophone reported only the occasional biologic. There had been a handful of sharks around as the swimmers crossed to the atoll but none gave them more than a casual glance.

What they did notice as they came ashore – that being a relative term since the area was so swampy – was the heat. And the heavy wetsuits weren’t helping! Lee instantly pulled off his hood and draped it over his arm, as did the others. But conscious of the many bugs they kept the suits zipped up and tried to make their evaluation as rapidly as they could.

Nelson quickly determined that the stern of the boat was either mostly missing, or so deeply buried in the sand and mud as to make it nearly impossible to dislodge. “It looks like we can attach the cable fairly securely here,” he pointed to the bow just below what looked to have been the waterline. “Give it one firm tug to see what happens?”

Lee nodded. “Works for me. I’ll go call to have the cable brought over.”

“And I’m going to take a few plant and water samples while we wait.”

Lee grinned; typical Nelson. He nodded and headed for where they’d come ashore as he reached for the radio on his belt.

* * * *

Nielson and Richardson were mostly suited up, just waiting for a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ call. The bell had already been shifted to the side, the cable detached and ready to be played out. When the call came Chief Sharkey, standing mostly on one leg but ready to do his part, was at the cable controls. He started slowly letting it out as the two divers donned their tanks and stepped out the bottom hatch, grabbing the cable as they went and starting their swim across to the other four.

It took all six men to manhandle the unwieldy cable through what looked like struts on each side of the bow. “That’s not normal,” Nielson told no one in particular. “They would have slowed the boat down in the water.”

“It’s possible,” Nelson told him, “that they were placed just above the intended waterline. But you’re right; they do seem odd.”

“Could this be the stern instead of the bow, and they were meant to be used to attach fishing nets?” Richardson asked.

“That’s a thought,” Lee told him as Nelson gave the boat a long look. “Since we can’t see the other end…” He let the sentence drop. Nelson merely shrugged and they all went back to struggling with the cable until they had it as firmly attached as they could manage. “Okay, everyone,” Lee ordered, and ever so slightly dipped his head as Nelson reacted to the tone of voice, “get as far away from that thing as you can. We have no way of knowing what, if anything,” he amended softly, “is going to happen. And we sure as heck don’t want to be in the vicinity if that cable breaks.”

“The boat will crumble before that happens,” Nelson assured him, but nonetheless moved well away toward one side before Lee gave Sharkey the signal to lock down the cable drum. Once that was done, Lee had Chip slowly back Seaview away.

Down in Propulsion, Lt. O’Brien swore softly as Seaview was put into reverse, then all but held his breath. There was something of the same reaction in the Missile Room as Sharkey and several others backed off and watched from a safe distance as the cable tightened.

In the Conn, Chip scanned quickly across all the instruments and mentally crossed his fingers. There was a moment when he could nearly feel the entire Duty crew hold their collective breaths as Seaview eased back until the cable tightened and she fought to move against its hold. It seemed like several minutes, but could only have been seconds when she once more moved, although sluggishly, backward.

“Lee?” Chip called through the mic they’d purposely left open.

“It’s working,” came back, a note of almost surprise in his voice. “Keep her steady,” he added. Unnecessarily, but no one seemed to notice.

With many creaks and groans, and the sounds of mud being sucked away, the old hulk slowly started to move. The six men stayed well away but now they could see that it was, indeed, only half a boat, and as the mud released it, it slid fairly easily toward the deeper water. Nielson and Richardson prepared to follow it in, their scuba communication masks letting them tell Chip when the hulk had reached a sufficient depth to not be a hazard to any boats in the area but still be suitable for reef building.

“Now we should have tanks to help them,” mumbled Lee.

“We can manage,” Nielson quickly assured him, and Richardson agreed with a quick nod. “Getting the cable off will be a whole lot easier than putting it on.”

Lee had to smile. “I’ll hold you to that,” he told the pair, and they dove into the water just as the last of the hulk slipped under the surface.

“That went better than I expected,” Nelson said quietly.

“Me, too, sir,” Lee admitted. “Did you get all the samples you need?”

Nelson sent his captain a firm look. “Yes, Lee, I’m ready to go back. However,” and there was a twinkle in his eyes that Lee didn’t miss, “since we have to wait until the cable is detached for Seaview to come closer again, I intend to put the time to good use,” and he headed off to the other side of where the hulk had been.

“Yes, sir,” Lee told Nelson’s back. He shared a quick grin with Kowalski, who had also been on enough dives with Nelson to expect the man’s ‘Scientist First’ attitude. The bugs were now becoming a problem because of the disturbed ground created by moving the hulk and all three put their hoods back on and wandered along after their boss, keeping track of him until they could return to Seaview.

* * * *

Chip’s wasn’t the only sigh of relief on board Seaview when the old hulk started to move. It almost seemed to her XO that the boat herself sighed, and that brought an almost smile to the blond’s face. He didn’t ‘feel’ Seaview quite as much as Lee seemed to. But he still reached out a hand and patted the bulkhead as he watched out the front windows. “Good girl,” he told her quietly, then glanced around to make sure neither the words nor gesture was noticed by the Conn crew. Everyone had their eyes on their instruments and Chris James had his eyes on all of them. That smile Chip allowed Chris to see as his eyes momentarily looked Chip’s way, and the young lieutenant ever so briefly returned it before once more glancing around the Conn.

“Seaview,” came over the Dive channel, and Chip grabbed the mic before Chris could.

“Conn,” he answered.

“Slow to a stop, sir,” came back from Nielson. “The hulk is nearly in a good position. Kind of floating so we should probably let it settle before it goes too far out.”

“Roger that,” Chip answered, and nodded as Chris brought Seaview to a gradual halt. “How’s that?” he asked the divers.

“Just about perfect,” Nielson confirmed. “Could we have some slack in the cable, please.”

“Got it,” and Chip once more grinned as Chris instantly had Seaview moved forward a dozen or so yards.

“Cable free,” was announced faster than Chip expected, and it briefly flitted through his mind what an exceptional crew Seaview had. Chris called Sharkey to bring in the cable, and let him know when the divers were aboard so they could move forward enough to easily pick up the other four men. With the excitement over, Chip poured himself a mug of coffee and another smile hit his face. From the Galley to the Missile Room, from the Conn to Propulsion, from the Admiral down to the lowliest seaman, Seaview had the best crew in the world! No matter the cruise, the project, or whatever insanity was happening at any given time, everyone pulled together and finished whatever needed doing. Chip considered himself one of the luckiest people in the world to be a part of it. He downed the last of his coffee and prepared to go pick up his CO and OOM.

* * * *

“Lee,” Nelson called over the all-boat intercom, “will you come to my cabin when it’s convenient?” When he didn’t get an instant response he merely smiled softly and shrugged. No telling what his boat’s captain was in the middle of at the moment. Seaview was on her way home, having completed her cruise plus the added benefit of having shifted the old derelict. Well, what was left of it, Nelson smiled softly, and without any damage to Seaview in the process, despite Lt. O’Brien’s concerns. His grin spread. The only damage was to Sharkey’s foot, he added to his silent monolog, and that was self-inflicted. Well, he paused, sort of, and the grin once more spread. The COB had still been unable to find the ‘gremlin’ responsible for shifting things in the one storage cabinet. He’d tried everything, up to and including posting one man, in shifts – with the XO’s blessing – to guard that specific locker. It had just added insult to injury, literally, Nelson chuckled, that when the COB himself took a couple hours’ shift the previous evening, the equipment had been shifted right under his nose! He swore that he’d stepped away for no longer than thirty seconds but somehow the small units had all been shuffled. The senior officers, in front of whom that declaration had been made, could only shake their heads; they had no more suggestions to make. Nelson, with a shrug, did make one final one: leave the equipment the way the gremlin was placing it. He barely kept from laughing out loud when Sharkey admitted that he’d done that before taking his turn at guard duty. When he’d checked the cabinet after his shift was over, the equipment had been moved back to where he wanted it. Nelson and Lee had both worked to smother laugher, although not well, and Nelson knew that Sharkey had seen their struggle. Chip, as usual, had his ‘XO on Duty’ face firmly in place. Nelson had no idea how Chip managed it. And it did slip on occasion, but not this time, and Nelson wondered if perhaps Chip knew more about the ‘gremlin’ than he was letting on. He shrugged and went back to the couple of requests for Seaview’s services that Angie had emailed to him that morning, and that he wanted to run by Lee. No hurry, he admitted. It was a bit unusual for Lee not to answer his hail but Nelson shrugged again. He’d find out eventually what had Lee’s attention elsewhere.

* * * *

Rats, Lee muttered to himself. Thought that I had at least an hour to myself. He waited nervously for a second page but, when it didn’t come realized that whatever Nelson wanted it was apparently not urgent and headed silently once more through the small, rarely used, access conduit from a minor storage unit into the forward bulkhead of the Missile Room. It was so tight that only the smaller of Seaview’s crew could get inside to work on the wiring that passed through it. Lee only fit because he wasn’t trying to do any work inside; he merely used it as a way to get into the Missile Room unobserved. He cringed a bit as he remembered the first time he’d used it, brainwashed to disrupt the crucial mission Seaview was assigned and, when that didn’t work, try to kill Admiral Nelson.**

Shaking off those horrible memories, he crawled to within a couple feet of the grating at the Missile Room end and listened carefully before finishing the tight crawl. This would be the last time, he promised himself. But it had just been too much fun to resist on this mostly boring cruise. He actually hadn’t planned this last trip but after finding Sharkey on guard duty the last time, putting everything back the way the COB liked it, and then hearing Sharkey’s admission to the Admiral earlier, Lee knew that there had to be one more appearance of the ‘gremlin’. And of course, he muttered silently, this is the time I get paged. Naturally!

All was quiet in the Missile Room. Chief Hauck had, as a good MAA should, been reporting to Chip and Lee all the tricks that he and Sharkey had used to try and catch the gremlin. Mostly, Lee had worked when he would otherwise be on one of his ‘walkaboats’. The crew was used to seeing him anywhere – or not seeing him anywhere – so he’d been pretty free to come and go as he pleased. He’d taken a good look at the Duty sheets on the Chart Table before he’d meandered out the aft hatch and knew that crew weren’t scheduled to be in the room. And Chief Hauck hadn’t reported any more traps to catch the gremlin so he should have been safe for this one last bit of mischief. Leave it to the Admiral to screw me up, he grimaced, and took one more long listen.

Everything seemed quiet so he loosened the grating over the floor-level hatch, quickly and quietly scrambled out and rearranged the equipment one last time, and scrambled back in. Just in time as it turned out, when he heard the sound of the Missile Room main hatch open. Kowalski and Patterson came in, chatting about their plans for the upcoming Leave they both had scheduled, and Lee breathed a huge sigh of relief. He’d have to come back another day and secure the grating more firmly. But that could be done with an innocent enough kick as he was doing one of his visual inspections. As silently as possible he slithered backward to the other end of the conduit. That end was well-hidden behind a stack of boxes filled with not-often-needed supplies. He still listened carefully once more, making as sure as he could that the small storage unit was empty, and finished crawling out, securing that grate firmly. He listened at the door, decided that it was quiet in the corridor outside, and slipped out.

And barely in time. He’d taken no more than a dozen steps when Chip came around the next corner. “There you are,” the blond said somewhat accusingly.

“Did you need me?” Lee tried to sidetrack his XO. “I didn’t hear you page me.”

“Did you hear the Admiral?” Chip’s voice was still firm.

“Yes, but he said when it was convenient. Just headed there now.”

“Harrumph,” Chip muttered softly with a frown. Lee grinned, gave Chip’s shoulder a soft tap as he passed, and continued on toward Nelson’s cabin.

Another soft tap, this time on Nelson’s cabin door, got an “Enter.” Slipping quietly inside, Lee closed the door behind him and stood almost at Attention. “Sorry it took me a bit to get here, sir,” he started. “You did say when it was convenient,” he used the same excuse he’d given Chip.

“Caught you at a bad time?” Nelson asked with a grin as he leaned back in his chair, giving Lee a look up and down.

“I was…ah…indisposed,” Lee told him softly.

“Humm. Would that be unwell, or unwilling?” Nelson gave Lee’s chosen word both of its usual meanings.

“Neither,” Lee admitted. “Perhaps I chose the wrong word.” He sent his boss one of his shy, through-the-lashes, looks.

“Uh-huh,” Nelson said softly, sent his young captain a quick smile, and gestured toward the visitor’s chair next to his desk. “I trust all is well now with both you and Seaview?”

“Yes, sir,” Lee assured him as he took the indicated seat.

“Good, good,” Nelson told him, continuing to grin. “Any chance we’ve seen the last of Sharkey’s gremlin?” he asked with an innocent lilt to his voice as he continued to watch Lee closely.

Busted, Lee admitted to himself. Can’t ever get anything past the OOM. But he kept as benign an expression on his face as he could, and shrugged. “Never can tell,” he avoided a direct answer.

It caused Nelson to chuckle. “Never a dull moment,” he said softly, and not necessarily directed at Lee. His next words, however, were. “Angie sent a couple of proposals,” he indicated the papers in front of him on his desk. “Wanted your input before I make any decisions.”

“Yes, sir.” Lee’s voice and body position were instantly all business.

“Uh-huh,” came once more from Nelson. But he decided to also get back to business. Some subjects were best left alone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

* see “Foot Fault” by R. L. Keller

** see episode “The Saboteur”