Sensory Overload

Part Two – Endure

By R. L. Keller

“A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.” Christopher Reeve

Disclaimer – all locations and names are entirely fictitious. At least, I hope so because I made them up 😊

Presented for the picture contest “Perpetua”

Seaview was still several hours out of port, headed home after the disaster at Majuro Atoll, when Admiral Nelson came down the spiral stairs from Officers’ Country into the Conn. There was no doubt, from the look on his face, that he was dreading what he had to tell his captain, Cdr. Lee Crane. And it was instantly obvious, to every man in the Conn, that Lee wasn’t going to like whatever the Admiral was about to say. But Lee steeled himself, came basically to Attention, and faced his boss. “Yes, sir?” came out almost in his usual authoritative voice.

“Sorry, Lee,” Nelson started, and tried very hard to keep his voice under control. The last few days things hadn’t gone so well between the pair. Mainly because Lee had for the most part kept away from his boss. The last thing Nelson wanted was to make matters any worse but sometimes orders were orders, no matter how much you didn’t want to obey them. Nelson had just been given an order by the Commander of Naval Operations and there was just no way around it. “Seaview has been ordered to Ocho Negra.”

“But sir…” Lee started, then stopped himself.

Nelson sent him a nod, none-the-less. “We’ll dock, have twelve hours to deal with immediate matters and restock supplies,” he sent a glance at Seaview’s XO, Lt. Cdr. Chip Morton, who was responsible for that duty, “and sail again on the midnight tide. Plan on being out six to seven days. I’m sorry, Lee. These orders came straight from the CNO.”

Lee took a deep breath. “Yes, sir,” came out resignedly, and he turned to Lt. Chris James. “Lieutenant, please plot the course.”

“Ah, sir,” the young lieutenant said hesitantly, “first you’ll have to tell me where it is.”

Chip snorted, but before Lee could answer he jumped in. “A tiny country in Central America, on the Pacific side. Not much there. The locals are mostly descendants of the eight families who migrated there from Spain a couple hundred years ago, hence the name.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” came back instantly.

“Also,” Lee continued and the young lieutenant, who had instantly started to pull the appropriate navigational charts, turned back to his CO, “as Weapons’ Officer you will also need to appoint an Acting Master-At-Arms until Chief Hauck can return to duty.” He sent the younger man half a nod. “I should have had you do that already but I thought that we’d be in port…” His voice trailed off.

“I’ll take care of it, sir,” came back instantly. Lee and Chip shared a quick nod and a grin. Nelson, suddenly feeling like a fifth wheel decided that, all things considered, the conversation had gone better than he thought it might and headed back upstairs to his cabin. He’d need to brief Lee, and Chip as well, to what Seaview, and the Admiral specifically, was being asked to deal with. But time for that tomorrow, once they were on the way south and everyone – hopefully – had gotten at least a few hours of sleep.

Nelson headed for his office at NIMR the absolute instant Seaview was snug against her dock. Everything he’d planned to deal with over the next two weeks while his sub was in port was going to have to be postponed and Angie, his P.A. and acknowledged head of NIMR in the Admiral’s absence, was going to have a hissy fit rescheduling everything she, herself, couldn’t handle. Oh, not that she’d do it in front of him, of course. He almost smiled; NIMR staff had better be on their best behavior over the next week or the sub would return to a decidedly depleted staff. Angie, in a mood, took no prisoners!

Nor was the Admiral entirely safe. The instant he dropped that bombshell on the woman he locked himself in his office. His first call was to the CNO, to get a more detailed set of orders than had been delivered over the radio – no matter how secure Seaview was. He was actually hoping that there had been a change in those orders, but no such luck. Not a word was spoken about the just-completed fiasco, which didn’t set well with Nelson at all. He couldn’t very well dress down the Commander of Naval Operations but his next call, to Admiral Robert Jones, head of the Office of Naval Intelligence, got loud enough that, even as soundproof as Nelson’s office was, Angie still heard several of the verbal explosions.

Feeling better for the outbursts, whether or not they did any good, Nelson devoted the next ten hours to going over maps of Ocho Negra’s coastline and trying to devise a workable plan for what he’d been ordered to do. Normally this would involve Lee’s advice and expertise as well. And Nelson did want his input. But not right this instant. Lee, and Chip as well, had their own chaos to corral with such short notice of another cruise.

* * * *

How they managed it was just another example to Nelson of how good they were at their jobs. Seaview sailed right on time and Chief Sharkey reported only a minor amount of grumbling, mostly from Cookie who had to scramble to resupply the Galley. Seaman Jackson, well-versed in both boat and NIMR Security, would handle the MAA duties. Nelson did raise an eyebrow, as the men killed had been friends as well as co-workers. But Sharkey told Nelson that Jackson had volunteered, to honor both his friends and his immediate supervisor, Chief Hauck. Nobody was about to argue with that kind of loyalty.

Nelson tried to stay out of Lee’s and Chip’s way until the following morning hoping, but not really expecting, that both men would get some sleep once they had Seaview safely pointed south. Apparently Chip managed at least a few hours, as he wandered into the Wardroom shortly after Nelson and Will settled into their usual seats. Chip sent a glance into the Galley, from which emanated a series of grunts and grumbles, most kept low enough that actual words couldn’t be clearly understood. He had a grimace on his face, however, when he sat down in Lee’s usual spot across from the Admiral, with his breakfast selections.

Nelson raised an eyebrow but it was Will who voiced the question. “And where is the Skipper?” came out in Will’s dry, almost sarcastic, tone.

“According to Keeter, who still has the Conn until I can get there, down in Engineering. Lt. O’Brien had been planning to repack one of the ball bearing housings while we were in port. Since that didn’t happen, he and Lee are trying to devise a way to keep it functioning without having to totally shut it down.”

A small grin hit Nelson’s face, and it didn’t go unnoticed. “You find that amusing, Admiral?” Will all but growled. He sent Chip a glare. “When did that man last get some sleep?”

Chip was saved from an outright lie – he had no wish to admit that as far as he knew, Lee had managed maybe eight hours of actual sleep in the last four days – by Nelson almost snickering.

“There was an incident,” he started, “while Lee served with me aboard the Nautilus.”

“Only one?” slipped out before Chip could stop it, and he sent the older men a pretty good version of Lee’s ‘through-the-lashes’ look. Will snorted and Nelson grinned.

“One of many, for sure,” he told the blond. “But this one involved a broken ball bearing.* I’d all but forgotten it.” His smile increased. “Has Lee ever related the story of how he broke several bones in his hand?” he asked the blond.

“Please tell me that he didn’t try to fix it while the shaft was still turning,” Will growled before Chip could even open his mouth.

“Down, Will,” Nelson chided him. “It actually had nothing to do with the broken bearing. Just a momentary loss of control a couple weeks later that had Lee’s fist smacking the bulkhead. But I’m reminded of it now because of the ball bearing issue.”

“Oops,” Chip mumbled.

“You’d think that would have taught him not to do it aboard Seaview.” Will’s voice was pretty well back to normal.

“Slow learner,” Chip said softly, with a slightly evil grin, and all three men chuckled softly. Nelson did send a raised eyebrow at the blond, and Chip had no problems interpreting it.

“He’s working through it,” he told his boss. “It’s not you,” he quickly added. “Just…”

Nelson nodded. “Lee being Lee,” he offered, and Chip sent the nod back. “It’s why I’ve tried to stay out of his way. Will suggested that it would be good timing to kick Lee’s six off NIMR property for a while but then this mission got shoved at us.” His voice turned hard at the last few words. Both Will and Chip sent him expectant looks. Nelson sighed and looked at Chip. “I’ll brief you and Lee later today. Will,” he glanced at the doctor, “you, too, perhaps this evening?” Will’s turn to nod. “Hopefully you won’t be needed. But…”

“Got it,” Will told him. With Seaview missions, and especially when they weren’t of the totally scientific kind, anything could, and usually did, happen. “I’m still going to toss your captain off NIMR property just as soon as we get back,” he added, and got no arguments from his breakfast companions!

* * * *

As Lee helped Lt. O’Brien sort through a couple issues in Engineering, the major one being a stubborn shaft ball bearing, he kept getting little sideways glances from several of the crew. That included the lieutenant, who had been aboard Seaview since she was first launched. Lee knew what they were all thinking – from his stiff posture he was sure they were holding their collective breaths, waiting for Lee to totally blow his cork over the stubborn piece of equipment, such was his level of frustration with current events. Every person aboard knew how personally Lee took any injury to one of his crew. And to lose two men at once, not to mention a severely injured third, Chief Hauck, was nearly unthinkable. The two lost crewmen had many friends among the crew who were also hurting, Lee knew, so he was doing his best to control his own emotions and frustrations. No one had been happy about the sudden new assignment. But these were men who were also very aware that it wasn’t just their own lives that were at stake at any given moment, but often vast numbers of people they would probably never meet. They were dedicated to their service to NIMR and the US Navy. But they were still hurting. And knew that the one who was probably suffering the most was their Skipper.

They were wondering, Lee was sure, if he was angry at the Admiral since it was no secret that the two men had been avoiding each other. And if Lee was being totally honest with himself, yes, he was – at least a little bit. He didn’t actually lay any blame on Admiral Nelson. But his own emotions were still too raw to allow him to relax in the man’s presence. So, he kept a close watch on his boat and her crew, as always, but did it in slightly un-Lee fashion, choosing to only be in the Conn when absolutely necessary, and eat at other than normal mealtimes – what little that he was eating, as that and sleep were the first casualties any time Lee was upset. He knew that he needed to get himself, and his frustrations, under control soon, as Nelson would need to brief him shortly about whatever this Navy-mandated mission was all about. He was trying. But so far he wasn’t having a great deal of success. He was actually a little surprised that Chip wasn’t pestering him more. Apparently, his best friend was willing to let Lee work through his issues on his own. At least for now; Lee didn’t expect that to last much longer.

Ball bearing issue finally under control – he hoped – Lee was just headed for the Wardroom for his usual half a sandwich and six cups of coffee at 1030 hours when Nelson paged he and Chip to Nelson’s cabin. He managed to bury the oath that nearly slipped out but not before Bobby O’Brien caught the effort, and he grimaced. “Time to find out why the Navy blasted our Leave all to h…smithereens,” he managed to get out almost naturally. O’Brien merely nodded, and Lee headed for Officers’ Country.

He met Chip, just coming up from the Conn, as he neared the Admiral’s cabin. “Problem fixed?” Chip asked, by way of making conversation with his uptight friend.

“For the moment,” Lee answered in kind. “Bobby will bring the report up shortly. We may still have to stop,” he paused and knocked lightly on the Admiral’s door, “for a couple hours to totally change it out.”

“Enter,” sounded. Chip nodded to acknowledge the report and followed Lee through the doorway, closing the door behind him and taking one of the two empty chairs facing Nelson’s desk. He just barely managed to not shake his head when Lee sat carefully on the very front edge of the other one.

Nelson also noticed, but tried to keep his focus on the mission at hand. “Are either of you familiar with the Monastery of Santa Louisa de la Encarnacion?” Chip shook his head, but a puzzled look crossed Lee’s face.

“High on the hill, overlooking the port city of Puerto Sierra?” There was a definite question in Lee’s voice.

“How the…” Chip started, then frowned. “Never mind,” came out in a soft grumble.

Nelson couldn’t stop the small smile that touched his face as Chip realized that Lee’s knowledge of the place probably came from a previous mission for his part time employer, the Office of Naval Intelligence. Chip hated Lee’s continued commitment to ONI and was not loath to voice that disapproval. Lee kept his focus on Nelson, so Nelson focused on him. “Do you know a monk by the name of Juan Diego Escobar?”

Lee shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar, but it’s been several years, sir.” Lee’s voice didn’t carry its usual firm conviction.

Nelson merely nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. If intel is current…” There was a soft snort from Chip, and Nelson’s smile grew slightly. “Yes, Chip, we are all only too aware of the gaps that can occur in getting reliable information at times.” Chip nodded as he turned a couple shades of red. Lee continued to be unmoving. It didn’t unnerve Nelson but it was somewhat disquieting.

“There is some speculation that Escobar isn’t a monk at all; that he and at least one other man are using the Monastery as a front to run drugs for one of the cartels.”

“And the monks are allowing it?” Lee remained quiet and let Chip ask the obvious question.

“That’s where things get a little sketchy. The locals are aware that the older monks seem to be more nervous than usual.” He paused. “Because Ocho Negra is so small the guerrillas in the surrounding countries, and even the cartels, seem to have left this particular monastery alone. And when asked, the monks all say that they are doing just fine. A lot of their livelihood comes from making what’s supposed to be excellent wines. Other than food, grapes are about the only thing the locals grow.”

“So…?” Again, it was Chip who voiced the question.

“This Juan Diego Escobar is a new addition to the Monastery, and from what the locals can tell, has basically taken over. No one really knows anything about him.”

“And we’re supposed to figure that out when the locals can’t?” Chip’s voice now was almost angry.

“Actually, Chip,” Nelson acknowledged that it was going to have to be his XO who needed things explained; Lee was merely listening intently, “Lee and I have been ordered in, as simple travelers, to try to get a fix on exactly what is happening.”

“When the locals can’t.” This time Chip’s growl wasn’t a question.

Nelson shrugged. “Sometimes strangers have an easier time ferreting out the facts.”

“And a better chance of getting your heads blown off,” came out not totally under the blond’s breath.

“Ah,” Nelson told him, “strangers, but not naïve and untrained.”

“Yes, sir,” still came out a grump from the blond.

“Orders, sir?” Lee finally spoke.

“Depending on what we feel is going on, either leave well enough alone, or,” he paused and took a deep breath, “take Escobar into our custody and bring him out, hopefully quietly, and with anyone else there working with him.”

“Just the two of you?” Chip was back questioning.

“Oh, I suspect that we might bring along some help. Quietly, of course.”

“Why us?” Chip all but demanded. “Sir,” wasn’t quite an afterthought.

“Because DEA has lost so many agents in the past few months that they suspect a mole. It’s not totally unusual for Seaview to be off the coast.” Nelson sent both men a smug little grin. “And I do have a taste for fine wine.”

“So, we go in as ourselves, not actually strangers,” Lee clarified.

“Strangers in the sense that we aren’t locals, yes, Lee. I think we can pull off a little hiking trip, and decided to visit the Monastery. I’ll take along an extra pack, as we planned to bring back a few bottles of wine. And I dare say that our regular packs will probably hold some not-so-usual day-hike equipment.” He raised an eyebrow and sent Lee a grin. He wasn’t overjoyed with Lee’s response being only a small nod. But at this point he’d take what he could get, and turned back to Chip. “ETA?”

“Roughly forty-eight hours, sir. Sorry I can’t be closer. It depends on if we have to stop and replace the ball bearing housing on the starboard propeller shaft.”

“Lee?” Nelson now questioned, knowing that that’s what Lee had been working on.

“It should hold going down, sir, as long as we don’t run at Flank. I’ll advise Lt. O’Brien that once you and I go ashore, to go ahead with the replacement. It should take just over two hours, and I suspect we’ll be ashore much longer than that. Then we’ll be okay if we need to make a hasty retreat.”

That was the longest Nelson had heard Lee speak at one time since before the disaster at Majuro Atoll, but he still kept his expression neutral. “Agreed,” he said. “We’ll meet again tomorrow, Lee, to see if we can’t come up with a few more details. Although,” he admitted, “I suspect that it will be one of your usual ‘wing it’ type of missions.” He said it with a smile and hoped to get one back, signaling a return to the Lee Crane he and his crew were used to.

Unfortunately, all he got was a small nod and a “If that’s all for now, sir?”

Nelson buried a frown and nodded, and both younger men quickly left. Once the door was shut the frown came forward full force, the thought quickly flitting through his mind as to whether or not, while he and Lee were off boat, he could manage a swift kick to Lee’s six and maybe snap him out of his current funk. And what the more likely outcome would be, Nelson, is, you’d find yourself flat on your back, and then have to find Seaview a new captain. He shook his head sadly; Will’s plan to kick Lee off NIMR property once they got home was sounding better and better. They just all needed to survive until they got home!

* * * *

Nelson mentioned his passing thought to Will as the pair ate lunch, alone, an hour later. Chip was in the Conn as Lt. James was running a drill with acting MAA Jackson. He’d given Chris just enough details so that, without telling the man anything, Chris was able to run the Security team through some, actually somewhat standard, emergency drills. Just in case, Chip had explained to Nelson when he passed through the Conn on the way to the Wardroom. Nelson had actually hoped to snag Lee into eating with him but the brunet was once more down in Engineering. Chip assured Nelson that there hadn’t been further trouble, but Lee wanted O’Brien fully aware of the next few days’ plans.

“You’d be lucky if you only found yourself flat on your back,” was the doctor’s proclamation. “The mood he’s in right now he’d likely drop kick you off the nearest cliff. Oh,” Will admitted, “he’d instantly regret it and go help you back up. But…” He sent Nelson a grin.

“Yeah, it’s that ‘but’ part,” Nelson agreed. They both chuckled, although not with a lot of humor.

The pair were finished eating, and just getting up to leave, when Lee walked in the Wardroom door. Nelson hesitated a split second, thinking now he could maybe have a decent conversation with his captain. But Chip came in on Lee’s heels and Nelson instantly changed his mind. The two friends had always been each other’s best medicine. If anyone could get Lee through this current mess it was Chip. Lee had made it perfectly plain that he wasn’t ready to share with Nelson, and the older man wasn’t about to force himself on the younger. How they were going to manage this current assignment, Nelson still wasn’t too sure. But he was confident in Lee’s professionalism, no matter what was going on around him. One step at a time, Nelson told himself, sent both younger men a nod, and headed to his lab.

Chip all but held his breath when, after finally coaxing Lee to head for the Wardroom, they discovered Nelson there and he saw Lee momentarily stiffen. He’d told his boss that Lee wasn’t angry with him, but Lee was definitely avoiding the OOM as he worked through his current issues. Chip figured that it was just a matter of Lee needing to come to grips with what had happened, and hadn’t yet figured out a way to convey that to the Admiral. He thought that he let out the held breath quietly, once Nelson and Jamie had both left, but Lee apparently heard ‘something’, hung his head slightly, and finished walking up to the serving dishes. He only took half a turkey sandwich and a few peach slices, along with a mugful of coffee. Chip filled his own plate, as usual, and snagged another half a sandwich and three cookies, which he dropped on Lee’s plate as the pair sat down. Lee glared at him, but Chip glared right back. Nothing was said, but Lee finally gave his friend a quick nod and they ate mostly in silence.

* * * *

Lee was sitting at his desk that night – well, 0030 hours the next morning, to be exact – when there was a light knock on his door. He knew that it wasn’t Chip; his XO, and friend, would either have smacked the door with a flat hand, a reminder to Lee to shut off the lights and go to bed, or knocked and entered without waiting for a response and issuing the order verbally. Not exactly proper naval protocol, but between the two longtime friends it was frequently allowed. He stiffened as he called out, “Enter,” expecting that it was the Admiral. But instead, Will Jamison stuck his head in the door. “You’re up late, Jamie,” Lee told the doctor, and settled back into his chair, papers scattered all over the top of the desk.

“Higgins was cleaning up the last of the pots and pans from dinner and dropped a cast iron skillet on his foot.” He raised a hand as Lee instantly leaned forward. “He’s fine, Skipper. Just finished taking a couple x-rays to be sure. He’ll be wearing a slipper on that foot for a few days instead of a shoe.” He sent Lee a look. “Saw your light still on and thought that I’d check why.”

Lee sent him a small, bashful, smile. “Spent the day here and there around the boat. Just getting around to my reports.”

“All of which could wait until tomorrow?” Will asked, keeping his voice light and a smile on his face.

“It is tomorrow,” Lee muttered, but Will was pleased that he’d said it with a continued, if small, grin.

“Much more to do?” Will asked, still softly.

Lee frowned, but it fairly quickly returned to the shy smile. “I know that I should be getting some sleep,” he admitted. Will stayed silent. Of course Lee knew what he needed; he wasn’t stupid. Just, sometimes, a little nudge accomplished way more than an outright confrontation. “Another fifteen-twenty minutes.”

“See you at breakfast,” Will told him with a smile, and headed for his own cabin. He wasn’t holding his breath, but the last few minutes had gone way better than what he’d originally thought when he noticed Lee’s cabin light still on.

What Will didn’t notice, when he shut Lee’s door and headed for his own cabin, was Admiral Nelson standing at the opposite corner of the corridor. He’d noticed Lee’s light on as well and was considering his own invasion of Lee’s privacy. As the door opened he ducked back, surprised to find that it was Will leaving and not Chip. Or even Lee headed out for one of his ‘walkaboats’. As it was, he left his captain alone and spent half an hour at his own desk. Just before he crashed, he ducked once more around the corner. This time Lee’s light was off and he headed for his own bunk, wondering what Will had said to his tightly-wound captain.

* * * *

Surprising himself, Lee actually slept quite well for what was left of the night. He could easily blame it on utter exhaustion after so many nights without a decent amount of sleep. Any chance of skipping breakfast, since he wasn’t really hungry, went by the wayside when he stepped out of his shower and found Chip planted on the corner of his desk. Nothing was said, as was often the case between the two long-time friends. Chip merely waited patiently while Lee dressed, and then rather pointedly herded Lee toward the Wardroom. “Anyone ever tell you, you’d make a good sheepdog?” Lee asked as Chip made sure Lee headed down the right corridor. The blond grinned broadly but still said nothing, and a moment later followed Lee through the Wardroom door. Then he had to give Lee a small shove in the back as Lee stopped, finding Nelson just dishing up his own breakfast. Lee sent the blond a quick glare but an even quicker nod, and the pair followed their boss, settling in their usual places opposite Nelson at the first table.

“Jamie oversleep?” Chip asked no one in particular, just to get a conversation going.

“He was up late last night,” Lee told him. “Higgins smashed his foot…”

“With one of my best skillets,” came a grumble, and the three men found Cookie standing in the doorway to the Galley.

“I know your skillets,” Nelson sent the chef a grin. “I’m not sure the nuclear reactor could damage them.”

Lee and Chip both had to bury chuckles as Cookie snorted softly and headed back into his domain. “Jamie said,” Lee continued, “that nothing was broken, just Higgins would have a sore and swollen foot for a while.”

“And I haven’t heard about this because,” Chip all but demanded.

“You went to bed at a decent hour,” Nelson told him before Lee could open his mouth. Lee gave his boss a quick, shy, nod, and concentrated on his food.

“The shaft ball bearing housing still holding up?” Nelson sent the question to both of his senior officers.

“So far,” Chip assured him.

“Lt. O’Brien had orders for notify me immediately of any issues,” Lee added softly. Chip frowned but stuffed his mouth full of food, mostly to keep from sputtering at Lee for taking over what should be the XO’s responsibility.

Nelson sent them both a smile, knowing exactly the unspoken conversation that had just taken place. “Lee,” he started, and waited until the brunet gave him his full attention, “once you’ve done your usual morning check to see that Seaview and her crew are all functioning properly…” he paused as Chip snickered softly, “if you could come to my cabin we’ll try to come up with some plausible ways we can manage the CNO’s…” this pause was all his own, “decidedly unusual,” he finally settled on with a frown, “orders.”

“Yes, sir,” Lee told him instantly. He started to once more focus on his plate when Will ambled through the Wardroom door, yawning. Lee sent him a quick grin. “Did I make it to bed before you did, Jamie?”

Will mumbled something too low to hear, drained his first mugful of Cookie’s coffee, usually extra strong in the morning because that’s how Seaview’s crew liked it, and refilled his mug before picking up what he wanted for breakfast and sitting down next to Nelson. “One of those nights, Skipper,” he finally addressed Lee. “No reason not to sleep soundly, yet I couldn’t.” He shrugged.

“Getting old, Jamie,” Chip teased him. “Can’t handle the stress.”

“Watch yourself, XO,” Will pointed his fork at the blond. “Officers’ physicals are coming up shortly.” Nelson burst out laughing, Lee grinned broadly, Chip stuffed his mouth with food, and Will sent them all a smug look as he started on his own meal.

Lee did as they all knew he would – accompany Chip to the Conn and read through all the overnight reports, then spend an hour wandering all over his boat just checking that all was well, both with Seaview and each member of her crew he encountered. By 0915 hours he had no more excuses and tapped lightly on Admiral Nelson’s cabin door.

“Enter,” Nelson called, then slouched in his desk chair, appearing totally relaxed and hoping that it would help Lee do the same. It seemed to work – sort of. Frequently Lee would settle on the corner of Nelson’s desk for casual conversations. This morning Lee settled into one of the chairs, but Nelson was quick to note that this really was a business meeting so Lee’s use of the chair wasn’t without precedent. “I hope that you’ve given this mess some thought, Lee,” he started, still keeping his voice light. “I keep trying to come up with something that will keep us both from looking like total idiots if the CNO’s intel is wonky.” He purposely used a word he’d only ever heard young Seaman Riley use, and was pleased when the corners of Lee’s mouth twitched ever so slightly.

“Your idea of checking out the wines is as good as any, sir,” Lee started. He hesitated a moment, and Nelson didn’t interfere. “While you keep whoever busy with that, I can act bored…”

“Which you will be,” Nelson teased him with a grin.

Lee sent him a small one back. “Yes, sir,” he agreed. “But it will give me time to try to wander around. If no one seems to mind, I’d say all’s well.”

“But if you’re stopped…” Nelson said the obvious.

“Or even furtively watched closely…” Lee added.

“That’s an indication that we might want to try some after hours observations,” Nelson finished the thought.

“Or possibly some late-night snooping.” Lee hesitated. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve cased a monastery,” he admitted.

“Humm.” Nelson sent him a speculative look. Lee’s assignments for ONI weren’t a subject for conversation, even with Admiral Nelson who had his own ties to that office. “You haven’t been inside this place?”

Lee shook his head. “No sir. Just saw it up on the hill when…” He looked at Nelson, who nodded.

“The rest,” he finally said, “we’ll just have to play by ear.”

“Yes, sir.” He sent Nelson one of his shy smiles. “Mostly what I end up doing on these kinds of missions.”

“Robert,” Nelson referenced Admiral Jones, head of ONI, “never seems to have any objections to your methods.”

Lee ducked his head. “Not publicly, anyway, sir.”

Nelson couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that escaped. He was all too aware of a few of Jones’ rants about how Lee problem-solved on missions, and Lee knew that he knew. But it was also true that Lee had a better than average track record because he chose to think outside the box and not always follow strict protocol. Nelson also valued the younger man for exactly those same talents, although it could get decidedly ‘interesting’ to be around him on those occasions. Now Nelson waved a hand somewhat absentmindedly, still trying to keep the conversation relaxed. “I think that’s the best we can manage with present intel,” he told Lee. “See you at lunch.” Lee wasted no time leaving, and once the door was shut Nelson shook his head softly. He still wasn’t sure Lee had put the earlier incident at the atoll behind him enough to work smoothly with Nelson. But as he seemed to have his mind on the present task all Nelson could do was hope for the best.

* * * *

As it turned out, Nelson didn’t see Lee again until dinner. He went to his lab after the meeting and got so involved with a project that he totally lost track of time. The only reason he made it to dinner on time was, Chief Sharkey ‘just wanted to check on him,’ and Nelson discovered, to his total amazement and chagrin, that it was nearly 1800 hours. He thanked the COB, hastily finished what he was doing, and hurried to the Wardroom where he found Will, Lee and Chip already seated. Various amounts of Cookie’s evening meal covered each plate – Chip’s the fullest and Lee’s the least, as usual – and Nelson busied himself filling his own plate with baked cod, scalloped potatoes, peas and carrots cooked with small pearl onions, a tossed green salad, and whole wheat rolls. As he sat down, he realized that Will and Chip were having a friendly battle over whether or not scalloped potatoes should have onions in them. Chip’s mother included them, Will’s wife – as well as Cookie – did not. Will tried to tell Chip to just take the pearl onions out of the veggies and smash them into the potatoes, and Chip was trying to explain that it wasn’t the same thing. Lee was encouraged to join Chip’s side of the argument but told his friend firmly that he didn’t care how Cookie fixed them they were delicious and why, after all the times Cookie had made the dish, Chip was now having a hissy fit about it. From the sparkle in the blond’s eyes Nelson had a pretty good idea why; Chip was using the argument to needle Lee out of the ongoing funk he’d been in. But no way was Nelson about to mention it, and merely sat down and enjoyed the friendly nattering. He suspected that Will was playing along for the very same reason.

The quazi-combatants eventually agreed to disagree. Nelson shared a quick nod with Will while Chip had Lee’s attention relating the latest email from his baby sister, Beth, who Lee knew well because she, her husband, and two kids lived just north of San Francisco and Chip included Lee as much as possible when he went up to visit. Cookie himself delivered dessert – dutch apple pie topped by a big scoop of vanilla ice cream, and the whole thing drizzled with caramel sauce. Chip started to complain that Lee’s helping was bigger than his, took note of the expression that hit both Cookie’s and Lee’s faces at the same time, and instantly stuffed his mouth with a big spoonful, thereby burying whatever he had been about to say. Nelson and Will just shook their heads as both Cookie and Lee looked smug.

As all four were polishing off the last of their meal Nelson asked Lee, “ETA Ocho Negra?”

“Haven’t wanted to push the propeller shaft, just in case, sir, so about 1700 hours tomorrow.”

“Not a problem. Gives us time to settle in, and establish that we’re in no hurry to be anywhere else. That will fit right into our little adventure the next morning.”

“Yes, sir,” Lee agreed.

“Sir,” Chip addressed the OOM, “since we’re supposed to just be hanging out there, shouldn’t I assign Shore Leave to crewmen?” He sent Lee a sideways glance. “Some rather specific crewmen,” he added.

When Lee didn’t instantly reply after the comment, Nelson assumed that since the question had been addressed to him, Lee was waiting for his response. “Not sure how much of a tourist destination the port city is, and the rest of the country is family farmland,” he answered, and pointed an eyebrow at Lee.

“Not much,” was said with a shrug of shoulders. “At least, not when I was there. A few shops with craft-type stuff made by the locals.” Lee ended the reply by stuffing a spoonful of dessert in his mouth.

Nelson had to work very hard not to frown; Lee was definitely not being overly helpful.

Chip did frown. “I’ll call NIMR, sir, and have my secretary log onto their travel site. Well, assuming they have one.” He sent Nelson a sheepish look. “Should have done that while we were home.”

“You were just a tad busy,” Nelson waved off the apology.

“With luck she can find something close enough to cover our being there.”

“Most of what she’ll find,” Lee turned to Chip, “is a few hiking trails up into the hills. Some scuba diving, but not much.” He shrugged again as he stuffed the last bite of dessert into his mouth.

Nelson was tempted to ask why Lee had waited this long to offer that information. Instead of allowing the anger he was feeling take over, he looked at Chip. “Perhaps we use the ball bearing housing to our advantage. If asked, we say we stopped because we needed to fix the issue, and gave some non-essential crew Leave while it’s worked on.” He held up a hand as Chip looked at Lee, not usually designated as non-essential personnel. “Not everyone needs to know,” he forced himself to smile, “that our captain would require himself to stay aboard while the mechanics fixed it. And we can easily explain that instead of two hours, it will take a couple of days to fix.” He looked at Lee. “Another reason for you to be ‘bored’ as I check out the local wines; I dragged you with me.”

Chip snickered and ended up being glared at by both Lee and Nelson. Chip focused on the OOM. “There better not be anyone there who knows Lee. If you made Lee go with you he wouldn’t be bored; he’d be climbing the walls, antsy to get back.”

Done with his meal, Lee stood up and walked out, not quite slamming the Wardroom door behind him. Nelson sent his XO an apologetic look. “Nice try.”

“Yeah, but not sure how well it worked,” Chip admitted.

“You sure you want to be alone with him, Admiral?” Will asked.

Nelson took a big bite of his dessert, chewing and swallowing before he answered. “Actually, I’m thinking that this is exactly what he and I need. Here he has too many excuses not to say whatever it is that he’s mad at me for.”

“It’s not you, sir,” Chip tried to alleviate the sudden tension.

“Perhaps, Chip, but I’m definitely the focus,” Nelson corrected the blond.

“Or he’s using you as the focus,” Will offered.

Nelson nodded. “Either way we need to clear the air, one way or the other.”

“It’s the ‘other’ that has me a bit concerned,” Will told him.

“Yeah,” Chip muttered not quite under his breath.

* * * *

Chip made a quick check on the Conn, as he usually did after dinner, and then went looking for Lee. Casually, so he didn’t set off any of the crew who were already bummed by the last week’s disaster followed too closely by this mission. Chip was proud of them all for how well they were handling everything, and tried to present a small smile to everyone he met on his seemingly aimless stroll through the submarine. He even managed to get a soft chuckle out of a couple of JO’s he ran into. They gave him almost a startled look as he came up to them and he joked that he was becoming his CO, doing a ‘walkaboat’ after dinner. He had a feeling that neither Lt’s Bryson or Keeter believed him but both played along, for which Chip was grateful.

When he did finally find Lee, in the Crew’s Mess, he ended up walking away. He caught enough of the conversation between Lee, Lt. James, Acting MAA Jackson, and COB Sharkey, to realize that they were discussing what Lee knew of his and the Admiral’s mission. Chip slipped away before they saw him, but made a mental note as to who the first four crewmen to be assigned Shore Leave would be once they reached their destination. Then he made a written note as well, as he finished his own reports in his cabin, and was just headed to leave it on Lee’s desk when Lee himself came down the corridor. CO raised an eyebrow as XO followed him into his cabin, but nodded when Chip showed him the note.

“Saw you all talking,” Chip admitted. “They’re the men I would have chosen for back-up. Well,” he hedged, “I would have included Kowalski.”

Lee lowered his eyes as he lowered himself into his deck chair, waving a hand at the visitor’s chair for Chip. “Ski was on duty,” he told the blond, and Chip sent him a quick grin.

Nothing further was said for a short bit before Chip asked, almost carefully, “You going to be okay, being with the Admiral?”

Lee gave his best friend the through-the-lashes look Chip knew so well. “Didn’t handle that conversation over dinner well, did I?”

“No joke,” Chip told him honestly, but also continued to grin softly.

Lee shook his head sadly. “I think I’m fine, and then when I’m around him…” His voice trailed off. “It’s me, not him. But…” He shook his head again.

“He’s hurting, too, you know.”

Lee nodded. “The whole boat is.” He got a nod back. “I just…all of a sudden I don’t seem to know what to say to him.”

Chip sent him a quirky grin. “That hasn’t happened since Annapolis.”

“Not for the same reason,” Lee growled with a hard glare.

Chip instantly backed down with a nod. “You’ll get it sorted out,” he assured his friend, and then added with another grin, “hopefully before he fires your six out a torpedo tube.”

“And he’d have every right to,” Lee told him miserably.

That was definitely not the reaction Chip had been aiming for. “Lee?”

The brunet waved off the concern so easily heard in that one word. “I’m just tired.” He wasn’t sure even he believed the lackluster response. He knew Chip didn’t.

But Chip let it go – for now, at least. He was sure that Lee was, at this point, running on pure adrenaline only, which wasn’t helping his mental attitude whatsoever. But he’d watched Lee handle nasty situations before, and had faith that Lee would come out the other side in stable condition. He was just hoping Lee’s friendship with Admiral Nelson also survived! He sent Lee another nod and headed for his own bunk. Tonight, with everything up in the air, he wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d be getting, either.

* * * *

Two mornings later Nelson took a couple of deep breaths as he dressed, not in khaki’s but civvies he kept aboard. He’d wanted to talk to Lee after dinner the night before last, but just as he started to head around the corner toward Lee’s cabin he stopped because Chip was just exiting that cabin, and he headed back to his own. There hadn’t been a chance the previous day, either. Lee hadn’t been in the Wardroom at either breakfast or lunch. Nelson was in his lab about 1400 hours when he suddenly felt Seaview slow, then continue forward but with a noticeably awkward movement. He was pretty sure why but went down to the Conn, only to find Chip with a decided smirk on his face. He stopped just in front of the spiral stairs and sent a steely gaze at his XO.

“Just in case anyone is paying attention to us,” Chip started his explanation, “Lee decided we should slow down, then shut down the starboard screw and limp into Ocho Negra. He’ll be up shortly to call into whatever amounts to a Port Authority down here for permission to settle into the little bay that houses the port city of Puerto Sierra and fix the problem.”

Nelson started nodding halfway through the explanation. “How about that call coming from me,” he suggested.

“That works, sir,” Chip agreed, and Nelson headed for the Radio Shack. He was still there when Lee came into the Conn from the aft hatch, and Lee raised an eyebrow as he walked up to Chip at the chart table. “He felt Seaview slow and came down to check,” Chip said with a grin. “He liked your idea and decided to make the call himself. Guess he thought it would sound better coming from the boat’s owner.”

“Okay,” Lee told him noncommittally, grabbed up the Duty clipboard, and headed back out the aft hatch. Nelson returned to the chart table just in time to see his exit.

“Lee says thanks for doing that, sir,” Chip lied through his teeth.

“Uh huh,” Nelson drawled, not believing a word. But no way was he going to put his XO on the spot for trying to protect his captain. And friend. He handed Chip a piece of paper. “When we get close, call in and ask for this man. Sparks has the channel. Senor Espinosa apparently oversees the port. He’ll have a launch sent out to meet us when we surface, and lead us into where we can safely park. He’s offered a launch to tender ashore anyone, as well.”

“Nice of him.”

Nelson nodded. “Obviously they don’t get a lot of tourists, and he wants to offer us as much hospitality as he can.”

“Which makes me wonder if there really is something going on at the Monastery if he’s that open.”

“Or he’s part of it and wants to keep as much of an eye on us as possible.” Chip nodded at that logic. “He also offered any technical help we might need.” He raised a hand as Chip started to open his mouth. “No worries, Chip. I cut that off instantly. Thanked him, but told him that we have the people and parts to fix the problem. We just needed somewhere to surface in a protected area while we did it.”

“I’ll let Lee know,” Chip told his boss.

“Or I’ll do it at dinner,” Nelson told him with a long look, which Chip understood only too well meant that Lee had better show up.

Unfortunately, at least for Nelson, Lee managed to avoid that meal as well, and Nelson chose not to argue the point. But now, as he prepared to leave the boat, all he could do was hope for the best; that he and Lee could accomplish their task without serious injury to their working relationship – and friendship!

Picking up the day pack he’d grabbed from home, in which he’d packed a couple of days’ worth of clothes plus a small partitioned bag meant for carrying liquor bottles safely, a quick grin crossed his face. The pack had been specially made with a well-concealed compartment on the bottom that, in this case, held two small handguns plus extra ammunition. A general search wouldn’t easily find anything special about the day pack, yet he could quickly reach back and grab one or both weapons if he needed to. The grin, however, wasn’t because of them, but the item he’d asked Will for the previous day – a small but well-prepared first-aid kit. He knew that Lee almost never left the boat for an ONI mission without one, but he wasn’t taking any chances and brought along his own just in case. Will had muttered about a complete Emergency Response Kit but Nelson had chuckled and reminded the doctor that one, his pack wasn’t that big; and two, the pair might only be off boat most of one day, although they were prepared to camp out overnight if necessary.

That was one of the things he’d wanted to talk to Lee about at dinner; their cover story might allow for an overnight camp but unless they returned to the boat the next day the story would fall apart. Chip had reported that Lee was going over details with his and Chip’s chosen ‘shore leave’ personnel, but that he’d heard Lee mention pretty much the same idea. Nelson had harrumphed and continued with his meal. Now he slung one strap of the pack over his shoulder and headed for the Conn, mentally crossing his fingers that the next few days proved productive and not destructive to his and Lee’s future relationship.

He was totally unprepared for the ‘determined’ expression on both Lee’s and Chip’s faces as he came down the spiral stairs, especially as there was an almost smirk on the face of Lt. James. Once more it was Chip who answered his raised eyebrow but at least Lee was looking at him openly, a bit of smirk hitting his face as well as Chip’s as the blond explained.

“Senor Espinosa called an hour ago, asking when we wanted the launch to arrive, and said that he was coming with it. He asked permission to tour ‘The Famous Seaview’, his words, and wanted to take a look at our damage; maybe he could help with repairs.”

“He’s served on submarines?” Nelson all but snarled. “He understands our propulsion system?”

“No, sir,” Chip’s expression turned dark, as did Lee’s, for just a moment.

“Makes it seem even more obvious that either he is involved with something going on, or at least knows about it,” Lee offered.

“Harrumph,” Nelson muttered, and was once more startled to see all three expressions now focused on him turn mischievous.

“Got it covered, sir,” Chip told him.

“Lt. O’Brien had the issue totally fixed barely two hours after we settled into this spot,” Lee took up the explanation. “The instant Senor Espinosa called, he and his team started stripping everything down again.”

“He’s actually enjoying making everything look totally disastrous,” Chip jumped in, “to an outsider, but nothing that can’t be completely put back together inside of an hour.”

“Harrumph,” Nelson muttered again, but he also nodded. “When is Espinosa due to arrive?” No sooner were the words out of his mouth when a small bump was felt emanating from the direction of the boarding hatch.

“That would be now, sir,” Lee told him with an almost straight face. All four officers had their game faces on when steps down the spiral stairs turned out to be COB Sharkey followed by a slender-built Hispanic man appearing to be in his mid-forties.

Nelson figured that the man would expect the person who had made the original call to greet him, and stepped forward. “Senor Espinosa,” he started, his hand outstretched, “I’m Admiral Harriman Nelson. I’d not expected to meet you in person. Thank you again for allowing us shelter to fix our propulsion issues.”

It was rather obvious that the man was a bit taken aback, probably by Nelson’s casual dress, but was forced by circumstances to accept Nelson’s handshake. “Glad that our small port could be of assistance,” he got out, then seemed somewhat at a loss as to how to continue. Nelson’s grin held absolutely no humor, although Espinosa didn’t know that. Nelson was sure Lee and Chip understood, as both were controlling their expressions.

“Sir, my captain, Cdr. Lee Crane,” Nelson introduced Lee, who stepped forward. Espinosa was prepared this time and his handshake wasn’t so stilted. “And my Executive Officer, Lt. Cdr. Chip Morton.”

Chip chose to merely nod, standing with the chart table between himself and the visitor. “My pleasure,” he did say, and got a nod in return.

“Chip tells me you offered assistance with our repairs,” Nelson continued. “Thank you, but none is needed. We have the parts and technicians aboard to handle everything. It will just take a bit of time. Perhaps a couple of days, as once we dug into the problem it turned out to be a bigger project than we originally thought. I hope that our being here will be no imposition to you.” Nelson could see Chip; the XO had his Duty expression firmly in place. He didn’t dare look at Lee, afraid that he’d be unable to bury a grin.

“Of course not, Admiral,” Espinosa assured him.

“Excellent,” Nelson told him enthusiastically. “As you can see,” he ran a hand somewhat over himself, “Lee and I are going to use the time for a bit of hiking. I love exploring places I’ve never been before. Some of the crew, those not needed for repairs, have asked to explore a bit as well. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“No, Admiral. Although, it might be best if not too many at a time. We are a small country, not used to a lot of visitors.”

“I believe five to seven at a time is what you have arranged, Lee?” he pointed an eyebrow at the brunet, a smile still on his face.

“If that is agreeable, Senor Espinosa?” Lee asked.

“Oh, of course. I had actually anticipated more,” Espinosa admitted.

“This would work well for our schedule,” Chip told him, “and we’re happy to supply the names of who is ashore at any given time.”

“Absolutely,” Nelson concurred.

Espinosa seemed flustered once more. Nelson wondered if he’d not been expecting so much cooperation from his visitors. He caught the glance Lee and Chip shared, probably thinking the same thing, and his smile became genuine, for an entirely different reason than Espinosa was no doubt thinking. “That would be perfect,” the man managed to get out. “Ah, you are already dressed to go ashore,” he got himself back in control. “I was hoping that I might be allowed a quick tour of your ship?”

Nelson’s grin spread at that slip; anyone who had ever spent time on a sub knew that they were always referred to as boats. “Chip has already volunteered to be your host,” he told Espinosa, “while Lee and I get started. As soon as we get ashore we’ll send your launch back for you and perhaps a few more of the crew, if that’s acceptable.”

“That would be most appreciated. Just let me go with you to the launch and let my people know.”

“Wonderful,” Nelson told him, and led the way back to the boarding hatch. He had to keep a straight face as not only did Chip accompany them, but also Chief Sharkey. Acting MAA Jackson was at the hatch with another of the Security detail. Espinosa rattled off a couple sentences in rapid Spanish and then he followed Chip back inside, followed fairly closely by Sharkey and Jackson. Nelson nodded to the two men who had remained on the launch, and he and Lee stepped aboard. It only took the launch about five minutes to reach the dock, where one of the men jumped onto the dock and secured the launch while Nelson and Lee got off. They shared a covered look when the man tossed the rope back to the other man, not making the trip back to Seaview. Nelson pulled out a map as he and Lee headed from the dock toward the small town. He pointed to this and that, and asked quietly, “What did Espinosa say to his men? It was too rapid for me to catch any of it.”

“Almost for me as well, sir,” Lee admitted. “Something about taking us ashore and coming right back, and I though I heard ‘keep an eye on them’ but I could have misunderstood that part.” He pretended to also point to the map. “Since one man stayed ashore…” He didn’t finish as Nelson nodded.

“I say we head off this direction,” he pointed out of town, “and wander around before heading to the Monastery.”

“Yes, sir,” Lee agreed, and they headed off.

* * * *

Lee and Chip had already discussed Espinosa’s ‘tour’ so Chip had it all planned out. Officers’ Country, the Wardroom, Sick Bay, Crews’ Mess, and Crews’ Quarters were all inspected, as well as the Marine Lab. The tour did not pass the Reactor Room, Electrical Room, or Missile Room, so there was no need to tell the man he couldn’t enter any of them. Chip’s very correct mask nearly broke wide open when they entered the Propulsion Area; the place looked like it had been hit with a Force Five tornado. There were parts everywhere, all but a few having nothing to do with the ball bearing housing. Lt. O’Brien, all in proper form, apologized to his XO for the mess covering nearly every square inch of available space. Chip recognized parts normally needed for nearly every place on the boat, including a couple boxes labeled simply ‘course ground’ that he knew contained coffee for the Galley, and had to turn his back on them or he’d have burst out laughing.

“My goodness,” Espinosa muttered when he could take no more than two steps into the area.

“As Admiral Nelson told you,” Chip got out with a straight face – barely – “the issue proved more extensive than we originally thought.”

“Are you sure you can fix it?” came out unbelievingly.

“Have no fear, Senor Espinosa. Lt. O’Brien and his team are veritable geniuses.” He turned and escorted the man out before he totally lost his ability to keep a straight face. Thankfully Espinosa seemed so flabbergasted by the mounds of spare parts that Chip had little difficulty herding him back to the boarding hatch where the launch, as well as Chris James and seamen Kowalski and Patterson, all dressed in civvies, stood ready to enjoy their own Shore Leave. Chief Sharkey had their names on a sheet of paper, along with Nelson and Lee, and handed it to Espinosa.

“We might keep your launch busy,” Chip told him. “I’ve asked the men to keep their Leave on the short side so as many as possible can get a small break. We haven’t had a chance to get home for a longer time than usual.” He tried very hard to keep his voice neutral on the last sentence but still saw all of Seaview’s men cringe slightly.

Apparently Espinosa didn’t notice as he waved off the comment. “It will be at your disposal for as long as you need it,” he told Chip, and this time it was he who initiated the handshake. “Thank you, and Admiral Nelson if I do not see him again, for allowing me to see his wonderful ship.”

Chip’s face cracked into a small smile as once again the man showed his ignorance of submarines. “The Admiral likes to show off his inventions,” he said with genuine honesty. Espinosa smiled again and joined the Seaview men already aboard the launch. Chip ambled back to the Conn, wondering how long it would take Bobby O’Brien and his men to put back all the equipment they’d scavenged from at least four different storage lockers around the boat.

* * * *

Nelson and Lee passed through the small town and headed out through fields of grapes mixed with small family gardens and pastures with livestock, and headed for the forested hills not that far away. Both men had brought small digital cameras and, just in case anyone was watching, stopped occasionally to snap quick pictures. Lee got momentarily sidetracked by a horse who nickered softly to them as they walked by its pasture. Lee caught Nelson taking a picture as Lee stopped to give the horse’s head a scratch, and Nelson snickered softly as he told Lee, “It’s a mare, a girl horse. Chip will enjoy the picture.” Lee sent his boss a quick glare but he couldn’t hold it, gave the horse a final pat, and they continued on.

As they climbed steadily and entered the forest Nelson, just to get a conversation started, pointed out this and that; a species of tree, or an animal call. They’d remembered to pack bug repellant, thankfully. Lee settled into the mood, pointing out different animal tracks; some he recognized and some he and Nelson would spend a minute or so puzzling over. Just as they left the fields and entered the woods they startled an armadillo, which gave them a quick look and ambled off. The trees held a variety of monkeys, from capuchins to marmosets to squirrel monkeys. At one point Lee showed Nelson what he thought were ocelot tracks on top of ones from a gopher. “At least we shouldn’t run into any jaguars,” he told Nelson, “although there could easily be peccaries.” They both shuddered slightly, remembering their encounter with both animals.**

“Definitely something to keep a watch for,” Nelson agreed.

Soft scurries through the underbrush were attributed to varieties of squirrels, rats, shrews, and a plethora of other small mammals including foxes, coatis, and skunks. At one point they even spotted a sloth in one of the trees, and both took pictures.

They had angled their heading so they would appear to have taken a long hike, circled through the forest, and ran across the Monastery on their way back to town. Which, in essence, they had. They simply, once they were sure they weren’t being followed, headed straight for the area above and in back of their target.

Nelson had purposely kept the conversation throughout the hike on everything but the purpose of the mission. He was pleased that Lee seemed to respond to the misdirection; while he was more quiet than normal, without any of the friendly teasing he could at times indulge in, especially if they were alone, he at least gave Nelson no reason to doubt their continued friendship. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe previous issues had suddenly vanished. But Lee was obviously trying to put whatever was going on aside for the duration of whatever this present mess turned into. One step at a time – literally, Nelson breathed silently, and headed for the structures that were coming into sight on top of the next ridge.

As they neared the stone structures, some said to date back to the late 1500’s, Lee stopped, pulled his water bottle out, took a long drink, and emptied the rest into the near bushes. “Gives us another reason to stop,” he explained to a puzzled Nelson. “We ran out of water.” Nelson quickly followed suit and they finished walking up to the main gate.

Which, as it turned out, was open, allowing them entrance to a lovely courtyard complete with a well-tended shrubbery garden surrounding a statue of a robed figure. No one seemed to be around and they walked over to the statue, which from the inscription at the base represented the Monastery’s founding friar.

“Bienvenidos al Monasterio de Santa Louisa de la Encarnación,” seemed to come out of nowhere, and both turned to find another robed figure, this one alive, coming out of the nearest building. “ ¿Cómo podemos servirle?” Lee instantly translated for Nelson, just in case his boss hadn’t caught the whole thing. “Welcome to the Monastery of Santa Louisa de la Encarnacion. How may we be of service to you?”

“Estamos visitando su hermoso país, y hicimos una caminata para ver más de él,” Lee told the man. (We are visiting your lovely country, and took a hike to see more of it) He reached for his empty water bottle. “Me temo que subestimamos la distancia, y la cantidad de agua que necesitábamos para traer.” (I’m afraid we underestimated the distance, and how much water we needed to bring)

The man smiled and this time spoke in accented English. “Welcome,” he repeated, and pointed toward the building he’d come from. “Please, this way. Our well has some of the finest water in all of the country.” Nelson and Lee both sent him large smiles and followed him. “I am Brother Felix. You have arrived at a quiet time. Many brothers are in meditation, and several others have traveled to town to sell the wine we make here and…”

“Wine?” Nelson interrupted. He turned to Lee. “Didn’t I read something about that when we realized that we’d have to stop for repairs?” He seemed to catch himself. “My apologies. I’m Admiral Harriman Nelson, Nelson Institute of Marine Research in California, United States. This is my captain, Cdr. Lee Crane. My submarine developed issues and we were granted permission to pull into the bay to make repairs.”

“I have no idea what you were reading,” Lee not quite muttered with a not quite frown.

Nelson sent Brother Felix a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid that I dragged poor Lee along for a bit of land research while my crew fixes a damaged propeller screw.”

“Ah,” came back with a nod. “There was mention of a strange ship in the harbor.” At that point they entered the door and found themselves in something akin to a wine cellar. Shelves with bottles lined the closer walls, and casks could be seen further back. “Our brothers make the finest wine in all of Central America,” came out with obvious pride.

Nelson allowed his face to show instant glee but as he started to question Brother Felix, Lee cleared his throat and again Nelson sent him a sheepish glance, saying to the monk, “I’m afraid that I’m about to totally bore Lee with my questions to you even more than I’ve bored him with our hike.”

“If it’s okay,” Lee directed the comment to both men, “I’ll just wander around outside until you’re ready to leave.”

“Of course,” Brother Felix told him. “You may fill your water bottle from that tap there.” He pointed to one end of a short counter. “I believe Father Juan is in his office. Please feel free to visit any of the open areas. Tell anyone you meet that I, Brother Felix, am having what I hope will be a most excellent conversation about our fine wines with your Admiral.” He sent both men a broad smile, returned by Nelson. Lee quickly filled his bottle and headed back outside.

He had thoroughly enjoyed the earlier hike. He was always in a better mood doing physical activity, the harder the better. While Nelson kept himself in great condition because of his diving, Lee had still moderated his walking speed slightly, easily covered by all the wildlife and tracks they came across as well as Nelson’s simple botany lessons. Lee adored listening to Nelson’s voice, its resonance frequently helping to calm Lee’s frazzled nerves through whatever chaos was happening at the time. He was grateful that Nelson had kept their conversation to ‘safe’ topics during their hike. He knew that eventually he needed to get himself back into enough control that the previous mess could be discussed. He wasn’t even sure why he so far hadn’t been able to do it. “Just need more time,” he told himself, and then jumped as he heard a different voice.

“¿Disculpa?” (Excuse me?)

Lee sent the man he found behind him a sheepish look. “Didn’t realize that I’d said that out loud,” he said softly in English. If one brother understood, perhaps this one did as well. Especially as this one, while dressed much as Brother Felix, seemed to exude more of a ‘presence’. And because he seemed to be sizing Lee up. “Sorry,” Lee apologized. “I’m Lee Crane. I was told that I could wander around while my boss is discussing wines with Brother Felix.”

The man smiled broadly. “If your boss is anything like Brother Felix,” he said in excellent English, only slightly accented, “you will have several hours for contemplation. I’m Father Juan. Welcome,” and he opened his arms to indicate the entire complex.

“Thank you, and yes, I suspect that it’s going to be a long afternoon.” He exaggerated a frown.

Father Juan – if he really was a friar – smiled broadly. “Would you prefer a glass of something stronger? I have several choices in my office.”

“Thank you but I have no wish to interrupt, Father Juan. I’ll just wander about here in the open; perhaps find a place to relax after our long hike. We headed out this morning without realizing how far we’d be going. We’d just drank the last of our water when we saw this place. We were merely going to ask to fill our water bottles when Brother Felix mentioned that you make wine, and…” He shrugged.

Father Juan chuckled softly. “Brother Felix is our most experienced winemaker. He is happiest when he can share his enthusiasm with others.”

“Then he and the Admiral will have plenty to talk about.”

“Admiral?” Father Juan asked. Lee was starting to mistrust the man’s smile, but couldn’t pin the feeling on any specific reason.

“Admiral Harriman Nelson. We pulled into the bay at the bottom of the hill last evening to make repairs to his research submarine. He’s a noted marine biologist.”

“Not United States Navy,” came out a bit sharply, Lee thought, but smiled as he shook his head.

“Retired,” he told the friar.

“But he has a submarine?” was said more with curiosity.

“Which he designed, built mostly with his own funds, and uses for his research into studying and protecting the world’s oceans and their inhabitants.”

“I see.”

Once more Lee became aware of the man’s scrutiny as Lee started glancing around the courtyard. “Do I see benches over there, in the shade of those trees?” he asked, pointing to the opposite side of the area.

“Next to the Chapel, yes. I think you will find it an excellent place to relax.”

“I’m not Catholic,” Lee told him. “May I enter the Chapel?”

“All are welcome,” Father Juan told him with a broad smile. “And if you change your mind about refreshments, my office is just there.” He pointed to another building.

“Thank you. Depends on how long the Admiral and Brother Felix spend discussing common subjects,” and he smiled as well. It was as he turned away that Lee noticed something he found odd. Instead of the sandals worn by Brother Felix, Father Juan wore western-style, highly polished shoes. Humm, he silently made note of the incongruity and walked in no hurry toward the Chapel.

As churches go, this chapel was on the small side. Which, Lee guessed, was probably normal for this area during the time it was built. And, it was probably used now only by the monks, as Lee and Nelson had passed a more modern church in the town. As expected, almost everything inside was stone. Lee sat down on one of the handful of stone benches, without even backs like a more modern pew would have, and gazed at the simple stone altar. No Crucifix, but behind on the wall was a wooden cross. Short, engraved pillars stood on either side of the small platform, and in front of that was a short stone ‘wall’, with a slightly wider top, and a step in front of that. Lee imagined many people, although now probably just the monks and perhaps the occasional visitor, kneeling on the step, their arms resting on the top of the wall, waiting to receive the Sacraments. To one side was a metal plaque with writing, but Lee chose not to go close enough to see what it said; he assumed that it commemorated when the Monastery had been built. The entire Chapel was extremely elegant in its simplicity, and Lee could feel a gentle peace envelope him. He could almost hear the Naval Academy Choir singing ‘Eternal Father’, what most sailors knew as the Navy Hymn, in the Chapel at Annapolis. A quirky grin hit his face as he remembered Chip’s stint with the Men’s Glee Club at the Academy.***

Lee stood and exited the Chapel, and headed for the couple of stone benches he’d seen earlier, shaded by the building and several large trees. He’d barely sat down when there was a small sound behind him and he started to turn around.

“Please, do not look this direction,” was whispered in heavily accented English. Lee immediately stopped the turn and pretended that he was doing nothing more than reaching for his water bottle. He took a small swallow and continued to hold the bottle in one hand as he turned back to face the courtyard. “You must leave. You are in grave danger.”

“Why?” Lee asked, using the pretense of taking another drink so that he could hold the bottle in front of his mouth to disguise the fact that he was speaking.

“Evil has come to our Monastery. You must go.”

“Why do you not speak out and have the evil removed?”

There was such a long silence that Lee began to wonder if whoever it was had left. But finally, “We were warned to say nothing. Some did not listen. We were told that they were banished, but they took nothing with them. We were told that if we did not remain silent that more would be banished, including those we spoke to, but we believe the banished ones are dead.”

“You are very brave to speak now,” Lee said with as much sincerity as he could put into the whisper.

“I speak only to warn. You must go. Now.”

“As soon as my friend finishes his talk with Brother Felix.”

“Go now, before it is too late,” came firmly. Another soft rustling told Lee that whoever had been there was now gone.

Lee continued to sit, taking small sips of water until the bottle was nearly empty. A quick glance at his watch showed that just over an hour had passed since he’d left Admiral Nelson. He hadn’t realized that he’d sat that long in the Chapel. Deciding that a refill of his water bottle was in order, he shouldered his pack and ambled casually across the courtyard.

* * * *

Nelson was having a marvelous time. Once Lee left, he and Brother Felix spent a delightful hour discussing the varieties of grapes grown in the area and the different wines the monks made. Samples were brought out so that Nelson could taste for himself, not just take Brother Felix’s word for it, and he admitted with a big smile that he’d rarely tasted finer. As much as he would have enjoyed continuing the conversation, he was also very much aware of the reason behind his being here in the first place and was just about to cut Brother Felix off in the middle of describing yet another variety of wine when Lee opened the door. Almost shyly he held up his water bottle and headed for the tap he’d used earlier. It gave Nelson the opportunity to glance at his own watch. “Oh dear, Brother Felix, I had no idea that I’ve taken up so much of your time,” he apologized.

“It is I who should be sorry. I forget my place, especially when I am talking to someone as knowledgeable as you,” the monk bowed his head ever so slightly.

Nelson grinned. “Perhaps I might return before we leave, depending on how the repairs go.”

“Oh, I would enjoy that as well,” was returned enthusiastically.

“In the meantime, please allow me to buy a bottle or two of that wonderful chardonnay we last tasted.”

“Two bottles will easily fit in my pack,” Lee interjected into the conversation. Nelson sent him a sharp look before he realized why Lee had spoken. As the visit had occurred, Nelson wasn’t supposed to have known about the wine ahead of time and therefore would have had no reason to bring the bottle carrier on the hike. He sent Lee a quick nod as he pulled out his wallet.

“It is not often I have enjoyed such a pleasant hour. Please accept a bottle of chenin blanc as my gift and thank you,” Brother Felix gushed.

It was Nelson’s turn to slightly bow his head and the monk hurried to collect the three bottles. “You are most kind, Brother Felix, but please allow me to pay. I’m sure that the Monastery can make use of the funds for your charitable works.”

“Ah, yes, that is true.” The monk accepted the money as Lee carefully placed two bottles in his pack where they would ride safely, and helped Nelson stow the third. He buried a quick smile as he had to remind Nelson to fill his own water bottle before Brother Felix walked as far as the front gate with them, and pointed to the road that would take them back to town.

Lee waited until they were well away from the Monastery, and could be fairly sure that they weren’t being followed, before repeating what had been whispered to him. A word Nelson seldom used slipped out with a hard breath, and Lee nodded. “Agreed,” he told his boss.

“I say we head for the boat for food and a few hours’ rest, and prepare for an afterhours religious retreat.” Nelson sent him a hard look but it quickly softened. “Not that you’ll rest,” he told his captain with a grin.

It was Lee’s turn to duck his head, but he nodded his acknowledgement of Nelson’s all-too-correct assessment and they made their way back to Seaview.

They ended up sharing the launch back with Kowalski and Chris James, although they were dressed differently than they had been earlier. A quick greeting from Kowalski and a quick shake of Chris’ head, and all were silent until they were safely inside Seaview where Lee pointed an eyebrow at the young lieutenant.

Never slow on the uptake, James nodded. “We’ve been going back and forth, changing clothes and hats each time, figuring the launch pilot would figure one gringo looked pretty much like another and wouldn’t notice,” he explained, “and we kept using different names.”

Nelson snorted and headed for his cabin. Lee nodded, asked Kowalski to put his pack in Lee’s cabin after taking the wine bottles to Admiral Nelson, and headed for the Conn.

Chip had just finished relating Lt. O’Brien’s morning, and laughing that everything had been once more properly stowed within forty-five minutes of Senor Espinosa leaving the boat, when Nelson came down the stairs.

“Already have the night planned?” he teased Lee, still trying to keep things light between them.

“Just finished reminding him,” Chip cut in, “how well he has his crew trained,” and then had to explain to Nelson, who chuckled.

“It’s for sure we don’t go back to shore by the launch,” Lee got back to business.

“Decidedly,” Nelson agreed. “So, a small, hand-picked assault team ferried over by FS1…”

Lee cut him off. “No, sir. Well,” he hedged at Nelson’s instant glare, “FS1 for sure, farther up the coast, north of the Monastery. But I go in…”

“Lee,” Chip interrupted again, no smile on his face this time.

“No,” Lee was adamant. “I won’t risk crew.” His look challenged both Chip and Nelson to argue.

“I go with you,” Nelson took on the challenge, looking directly at Lee. “And we’ll take several volunteers, but leave them nearby just in case.” He thought for a second that Lee would argue, but he finally nodded.

“And I know just who to ‘volunteer’,” Chip told them both.

Lee opened his mouth, but was cut off by Nelson. “So do I,” he told Chip. Lee’s frown increased but he remained quiet. “Now that that’s settled, I vote for an early dinner.” He sent Chip a sheepish glance. “We didn’t pack any food for our hike.”

* * * *

2300 hours found Chief Sharkey piloting FS1 into a shallow cove just north of the ridge the Monastery sat on. He, Lee, and Nelson had scoped it out right after their meal, while there was still enough daylight to see by. Lee had fussed but Nelson waved him off, saying that as long as Seaview was ‘disabled’ he’d take some ocean samples using what Lee tended to call her ‘bright yellow offspring’ and most of the crew called ‘the Skipper’s toy’. And just in case anyone happened to spot them, Nelson and Sharkey did use the little craft’s arms to gather a dozen or so samples of this and that, which when they got back were carried to the Marine lab and promptly forgotten.

Over dinner Nelson and Lee pondered the question of who, besides Father Juan and possibly Senor Espinosa, were in on whatever was going on at the Monastery. “Father Juan,” and Lee left no doubt as to his feelings as he pronounced the title, “can’t be controlling the monks by himself.”

“At least two others,” was Nelson’s thought. “One during the day, and at least one at night. More likely two,” and he got nods from both Lee and Chip, who had been informed of Lee’s ‘conversation’.

“You don’t think it was a trap?” Chip had asked. “Whoever you were talking to was one of the bad guys?”

Lee pondered that while he chewed and swallowed the bite he’d just taken. “I don’t think so. Not unless the guy was an extremely good actor. Even though he was only whispering, there was a note of…” he thought for a second. “I got the feeling that he was genuinely terrified.” He glanced at Chip. “It’s hard to explain.”

“What about this Felix character?” Will questioned, also let in on what was going on. “Sounds like he had pretty much free rein around the place.”

“We do only have his word that several of the monks had gone to town to sell wine,” Lee told Nelson.

“Actually,” Chip spoke first, “Chris said that he’d run into them in one of the shops; said they were quiet, almost spooky shy. Apparently he tried to talk to one of them and the guy would barely look at him.”

Nelson waggled his hand a couple times. “He seemed on the up and up to me,” he told the others. “But you’re right,” he told Lee. “He certainly didn’t appear to be under any duress.” He shrugged. “Best we don’t let our guard down no matter who we happen to run into tonight.”

“No, sir,” Lee told him firmly.

Now, heavily armed and wearing bullet-resistant vests, Nelson, Lee, Chris James, Acting MAA Jackson, and seamen Kowalski and Patterson, swiftly piled out FS1’s back hatch the instant Sharkey grounded the craft in the small cove before the COB scurried to deeper water to await further instructions. With him was Dr. Will Jamison, who refused to wait aboard Seaview. Lee had frowned, Chip had nodded, and Nelson had actually smiled when Will boarded with two large packs of medical supplies. Will had merely glared, and no one was about to argue with him.

Lee, after studying what he could find for a map of the area postulated that, if the men went straight inland from the cove, it would take them very near the trail that Lee and Nelson had used that morning. They had no way of knowing if there was a back way into the Monastery, but would have to take their chances as no doubt the front gate would be either locked, or guarded – and more than likely both – at night. They would approach the part of the Monastery they hadn’t seen with extreme caution, and play everything by ear. While all carried side-arms, they also all carried tranquilizer guns as well. Better to get the place under their control first and then try to figure out what the heck was going on. They were, therefore, more than a little surprised to find, at the back of the cove, a small but obviously used trail heading for the top of the ridge. They all shrugged and started to climb.

The six men had barely taken a dozen steps when there was a frantic call from Sharkey, on the radio Nelson carried. “Admiral, we’ve got company,” was half whispered, half shouted, as only the COB could manage. “A small mini-sub just blipped on sonar. I scuttled back and they don’t look like they spotted us, but they’re headed straight for the cove I just dropped you at.”

“There’s obviously a back way into the Monastery,” Chris offered quietly.

“Stay hidden as best you can,” Nelson told Sharkey, “but bring the laser gun on line. If it tries to leave, only disable it if possible. But it goes nowhere!”

“Aye, aye, sir,” came back instantly and the radio went silent.

“Incoming or outgoing,” Lee asked Nelson

“I think we’d better find some cover and wait to find out.” All six men found spots, on either side of the small trail but close together, and settled in to wait.

It appeared that whatever was being moved was outgoing as half a dozen men, all dressed as monks, soon came down the path carrying boxes. Nelson quickly spread the word to leave them alone as the last two were very obviously also carrying weapons. Once they passed, the Seaview men quickly got back together.

“Now what?” Kowalski muttered softly.

“We can’t endanger the monks,” was Lee’s instant assessment.

“No,” Nelson agreed. “If they all go back up as a group we have to leave them alone. Sharkey will deal with the mini-sub.”

“The cartels have been using small subs to move drugs for years,” Chris spoke the obvious.

“And the Navy, Coast Guard, and DEA have gotten better at detecting them,” Lee reminded the young lieutenant, “but drugs still get through.”

“Yes, sir,” Chris backed down.

“If the two guards lag behind the monks going back,” Nelson told his men, “we drop them with tranquilizers. If they’re still all together we have to let them go, and then follow them to however they are exiting and entering the Monastery.”

“Agreed,” Lee nodded. “The monks, once back inside, will no doubt be sequestered in their cells for the night.”

“Cells, sir?” Kowalski asked.

Nelson sent the Senior Rating a quick grin. “That’s what individual bedrooms are called.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kowalski sent him a bashful nod, and all six went back to their hiding spots.

Within ten minutes the monks headed back up the ridge. Only one of the men carrying weapons followed them back up the trail, but they were barely out of sight when the other one appeared. Unfortunately, Patterson didn’t see him and started to shift from his hiding spot, directly into the man’s path.

Qué... (What…) The rest of what the man said was covered by both his shot at Patterson and Lee’s shot at him. And not with a tranquilizer! Patterson, thankfully was only grazed; the bad guy wasn’t so lucky.

¿Qué pasa, Miguel? (What is going on, Miguel) was shouted from up the trail.

Una rata (A rat) Lee replied gutturally, and everyone held their breath.

There was a harsh snort. No debe sortear balas en la vida silvestre inofensiva. (You should not waste bullets on harmless wildlife)

Lee sent a grunt back, and thankfully the guard ahead apparently continued on. He immediately knelt down next to Patterson, who Kowalski was already examining.

“Sorry, Skipper,” Patterson whispered as ‘Ski opened his friend’s vest and shirt. “Totally screwed up. I swear I neither saw nor heard that guy.”

Lee waved it off and looked at ‘Ski. “Caught the edge of the vest just under Pat’s armpit, and ran a groove about an inch deep, right between two ribs and straight through. Won’t take me a minute to put a bandage in place.”

“Our luck is holding,” Nelson said softly to Lee, who he could see was practically seething. “I think I missed part of your quick thinking, covering the shots.”

It took Lee a couple of deep breaths but he finally translated for everyone. “Brilliant, Skipper,” was Chris’ opinion. He wasn’t overjoyed at the look Lee sent him, but Nelson got everyone back to business by having Jackson and Chris search the body for anything relevant. Finding nothing, they hid the body in the bushes for now.

Lee sent Pat a long look as they prepared to head out. “Smarts a little, Skipper,” the rating admitted. “But it won’t slow me down.”

Nelson saw Lee hesitate. “With the mini-sub in the cove we can’t have Sharkey pick him up,” he reminded everyone. Lee finally nodded and they headed once more up the trail, Jackson on point and Lee bringing up the rear just in case anyone from the mini-sub might also come along.

When Lee and Nelson had approached the Monastery earlier they had just missed this trail as it hit the corner closest to the main gate and then angled along the wall toward the back until it ended at a smaller wrought iron gate conveniently left open, they figured, for the man they’d killed. Lee took a long look at it and then reached into his pocket for a roll of electricians’ tape. Tearing off a strip he secured it over the latching mechanism; black tape on black wrought iron, it was almost invisible, but when he pushed the gate closed it stayed unlatched, allowing them to exit rapidly if necessary.

Nelson had been studying the grounds. “That’s the back of the Chapel, isn’t it?” He pointed to a building to his right.

“Yes, sir. Father Juan, or whoever the heck he is, indicated that his office was in that building.” He pointed to his far left. “Beyond that should be the wine store place you were in.” Nelson nodded. “I’m guessing that those two buildings between here and the office are the monks’ quarters, kitchen, whatever.”

“Agreed. Let’s work our way behind them to Juan’s office.” He left off the title. “That makes the most sense of where anything of interest would be kept.” He saw Lee glance at the other four men so he quickly added, “I think it’s best if we all stay together at this point, don’t you?” Lee hesitated but finally nodded and they all moved out, staying low in the shadows and hugging the inside of the wall. Nelson was all too aware of what Lee was thinking: once more he was putting men under his command – or as Lee preferred to think, under his protection – in harm’s way. Nelson was just glad that, so far at least, Lee wasn’t getting stubborn about including them. Arguing with his captain was mostly a lesson in futility, and right now they simply couldn’t take the time to discuss it.

There were lights on in a couple of windows toward the back of the building they now headed for. All other buildings showed no signs of life, as they should at this hour. Monks tended to go to bed early because they also rose early. But everyone was cautious, figuring that there could easily be guards anywhere on the grounds. Also, because of the man on the trail, the bad guys were most likely wearing monks’ robes, to blend in. Now was definitely not the time to get careless, but also why they were all armed with the tranquilizer pistols.

Nelson felt Lee’s hand on his shoulder as they neared the building, still crouched in shadows close to the outside wall. “Sir, the rest of you stay here while I scope out who’s still awake in there.” As Nelson started to open his mouth, Lee continued. “One person can move easier and quieter than six.”

“Agreed, but,” he cut off Lee’s exit with his own hand, “two is better for watching each other’s backs.”

Lee frowned, but finally nodded. “Kowalski,” he chose his frequent diving partner, and a man used to watching his Skipper’s back no matter what circumstances they found themselves in. Which was the only reason Nelson didn’t argue, since he had actually planned to, himself, be that second man. His turn to nod, and settle with the other three into even deeper shadows as Lee and Kowalski started a stealthy approach to the building.

‘Ski wasn’t sure what to think. He was easily aware that there was tension between the Skipper and the OOM, but didn’t for sure know why. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He was perfectly happy following Crane to wherever and whatever they ended up getting mixed up in. He trusted Crane as he trusted only a very few others.

If Lee was being brutally honest with himself, he wasn’t sure what was going through his head, either. Duty – to the Navy and to Admiral Nelson, and not necessarily in that order – kept him focused on the job at hand. But there was a little corner in his brain that kept whispering Where is the duty to yourself, and he hadn’t yet come up with an answer. But now not being the time to try and figure that out, he chose to block out the whispering and concentrate on the job at hand.

With Kowalski right behind him he crept cautiously toward the targeted building, but to the side away from the couple of lighted windows. He was hoping to find an unlocked window, or even a back entrance. Nothing had been immediately visible as the group had approached along the back wall, and Lee hadn’t noticed anything that resembled a path. But there was nothing on that side so he reversed course and the pair carefully made their way along the back of the building to the side where two small windows showed light through curtains, obscuring any view inside. Nor, once they approached to the edge of the first one, could they hear any sounds from within.

Lee was beginning to think that his only entrance was going to have to be the front door, something that he was really hoping to avoid, when the light went out in that window, accompanied by the sound of a door closing, but the second window stayed lit. “Two rooms,” he whispered, and ‘Ski nodded.

“Don’t suppose this window is unlocked,” the seaman offered.

“Even if it was, the more I study how they are set into the building, I suspect that they’d make an awful racket even if they could be opened. That’s why I didn’t try any on the other side.” ‘Ski silently agreed.

The stillness, so far broken only by a few night birds’ calls, was suddenly disturbed by a soft ‘whump’ coming from the direction of the cove. “Yes,” slipped out of the senior rating’s mouth. “The Chief just bagged himself a fish,” came out with a grin in his voice. Instead of feeling pleased, Lee felt himself tense up even more than he already was. “Do you think that was audible inside?” Ski asked him, nervous at Lee’s silence.

“Not through stone walls this thick. But if anyone was walking around outside…” Lee didn’t finish the thought. Not quite sure what his next move should be, he sidled over to the other lit window, also curtained. But just as he reached its edge the curtains parted, and he and Kowalski flattened themselves against the side of the building.

“What’s keeping Miguel?” The voice was that of Juan, Lee was fairly sure, but he dared not move a muscle to verify. The question had been in English, as was the response.

“He’s probably coming back by way of the wine cellar,” was said with some disgust. “I’ll go check.”

Lee looked at ‘Ski, further away from the window than he was. “Got him,” the rating nodded, and hurried back the way they’d come, to hopefully drop the man as he moved from this building toward the wine store. Thankfully, the curtain once more closed and Lee headed for the front corner on this side, just in case Kowalski ran into any difficulties.

Lee decided that Admiral Nelson must have once more fiddled with the anesthetic formula used in the darts. They still weren’t as fast as what TV would have you believe, of course. The man felt the stab from Kowalski’s accurate shot to the back of his neck and apparently thought that a bug had bitten him as he took a swipe with his hand. When he brought it back in front of his face, clutching the dart, he was already feeling enough of the effects that he didn’t even call out. He just stood there, staring at the dart for several more seconds before, as if in slow motion, he collapsed in a heap. Lee saw the rating grin broadly as he hurried up to the man, retrieved the dart, and dragged the now totally limp body into some nearby bushes. Lee showed himself just enough to get ‘Ski’s attention, and pointed to the other front corner of the building. ‘Ski nodded and settled against his side where they could both watch the front door.

Lee hesitated a couple seconds only, then signaled for ‘Ski to stay put while he edged toward the front door. He wished now that he’d accepted Juan’s invitation for that drink; it would have given him an idea of what was on the other side of the closed door. But this was no time to be second guessing. He gave a second ‘stay put’ signal to ‘Ski and turned the door handle.

While the handle turned smoothly, the door itself scraped the floor as Lee pushed it open. “Is he still sober?” was yelled out from the direction of where the lighted window should be. Where Lee entered turned out to be an open area with some rudimentary furniture here and there – perhaps an area to ‘meet and greet’ visitors. In the middle of the back wall was a hallway, with doors going off on both sides. It wasn’t completely dark; several candles gave the area a soft, almost welcoming air.

Lee didn’t answer the call. Instead, he moved to the back part of the area on the opposite side from where he now knew Juan to be. What he didn’t know was, if the man was alone. He’d heard no other voices, but that meant little.

“Wyatt?” came the next yell. Lee remained quiet but moved even further into the far corner. He wanted Juan more out in the open than a back room he’d never seen, and figured that it wouldn’t take the man much longer to come find out what was going on. Lee had left the front door open when he’d come in and, as he’d hoped, when Juan came out of the back room that’s where his eyes went first. Nor was Lee surprised to see a gun in the man’s hand, held lightly but expertly. Lee still held his revolver in his right hand but had pulled out the tranquilizer pistol as well. He wasn’t as accurate with his left hand, but at this close range he knew that he could still hit his target. Now that the man’s true colors, so to speak, were showing, the second weapon would be the easiest way to get him under control.

“The best laid plans…” Nelson was heard to mutter, much later. Before Lee could fire either weapon both he and Juan, who had not yet spotted Lee, were distracted by sounds outside. Lee couldn’t be sure but he thought that he heard the beginnings of a yell but it was rather abruptly cut off by a hard thump. Juan moved toward the open doorway, but wasn’t quite there yet when someone called out. “Juan, what the hell’s going on?” and ‘Brother’ Felix appeared, stopping a couple of feet outside the door. “I just found some guy…” About that time he spotted Lee. Lee barely had time to register the fact that Felix was also carrying a revolver, as his arm started up. Juan reacted at the same time as he realized Felix was looking beyond him into the room. Lee and Felix fired at the same time. Lee felt white hot heat hit his left forearm, but got off a second shot at Juan as his left hand went numb. He dropped the tranq pistol and dived to his right as Felix fired again, but that shot went wide as Felix reacted to something outside. Lee felt rock dust hit his eyes before he actually heard a bullet hit the floor next to his head. Unable to see he fired blindly. “Literally,” Will was heard to mutter, also much later. He kept firing until, almost simultaneously, he ran out of bullets and Nelson’s voice yelled, “Lee, if that’s you, stop shooting.” Lee tried to reach for his spare clip with his left hand, fumbling as it refused to work properly. As hands clutched that arm he started to fight. “Lee,” spoken sharply, finally got through some of the mental fog that accompanied his lack of sight and he stopped, but remained stiff. “It’s okay, lad. At least,” there was a pause and a sigh, “for the next few minutes. Lieutenant,” and Lee felt a second person next to him, “stay with Lee while Jackson and I scout around. Patterson’s with Kowalski and has the outside covered.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Lee heard Chris James acknowledge the order, and Lee felt Nelson move away.

“What happened?” Lee demanded of the young lieutenant. “And find me some water so I can flush out my eyes.”

“Sorry, sir, but I can’t leave you alone.” Lee heard genuine regret in Chris’ voice, and if he thought about it he’d realize that Nelson’s order came first. The problem was, at the moment Lee wasn’t thinking.

“Dammit, Mister, get me some water,” came out in a voice he almost never used. For sure, Lt. James had never heard it and visibly cringed. Lee could feel that Chris hadn’t made any attempt to move from his side, and was just preparing to blast him again when a new voice interrupted.

“Commander,” came Will Jamison’s own loud order, “shut up, sit still, and let me check your eyes.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lee’s voice had lost none of its strength.

“My job,” came back just as firmly. Will wasn’t sure that he’d ever seen Lee this angry – and that was saying a lot, after a few instances of mayhem aboard Seaview. He took a deep breath and tried to settle his own nerves. “Lieutenant, why don’t you go help the others. I don’t want your hearing damaged from this yelling match.” He wasn’t overly pleased with the man’s speed at leaving, but he did see Lee finally take his own deep breath, and laid a hand on Lee’s shoulder. “Damage report.” While it was said as an order, he did moderate his voice down a few notches.

“Doctor…” Lee, unfortunately, was still agitated, and made as if to push Will away.

“Skipper,” Will tried his usual form of address, hoping that Lee would start to relax as well. “You first, then I’ll supply what I know.” It took so long that Will was starting to wonder if he’d done the right thing being alone with his furious captain, but another couple of deep breaths and Lee finally spoke.

“A bullet hit the floor next to my head; it blasted dust into my eyes.”

“Can you see at all?” Will asked softly. Lee was blinking rapidly and his eyes were heavily watering.

“Not really,” Lee finally admitted. Will happily noted that his voice had softened even more, now that what Will realized was a massive adrenaline rush had started to wear off.

“There’s blood on your left forearm.”

“Just a graze,” Lee shrugged it off. “What’s going on out there?” Will almost grinned as that came out more in Lee’s usual firm tone.

“Two seconds, Skipper. Let me flush out your eyes.” Will reached into one of the bags Lee couldn’t know that Will had brought up the trail with him once things started to get ‘interesting’. He didn’t have his usual eyewash with him, but normal saline would work for now. Lee grudgingly allowed Will to tilt his head first one way, then the other, holding Lee’s eyelids open with one hand and flushing each thoroughly with the other. He finally handed Lee a couple of soft paper towels, reminding Lee just to lay them against his eyes, not scrub or even rub hard, while he cut open Lee’s left sleeve and checked that damage.

“Jamie!” Will carefully covered a grin, now that Lee was again able to see. While that one word was definitely an order, Lee had chosen to call Will by the nickname mostly only he and Chip ever used.

Even then, the full story came out in bits and pieces, as different men related their own parts. And had to be re-told when a local military unit augmented by several DEA agents responded to the call Nelson radioed to Sparks to send out. Nelson was pretty sure, from the sudden lack of anger and frustration in Lee’s voice, plus the look Will sent his way when Nelson realized how calm Lee was, that the doctor had injected the man with something besides the local anesthetic he’d admitted to, to clean up the bullet wound in Lee’s left forearm. Nelson had no idea how long the drugs would last so was doing the best he could to hurry things along, but it wasn’t easy.

When the mini-sub had tried to leave, Sharkey targeted its propeller and left it sitting on the bottom, just outside the cove at a depth of about 200 feet, and promptly disobeyed orders and returned to the cove where both he and Will headed up the trail they found. The COB carried a weapon as well as one of Will’s bags of supplies while Will carried the other. Will had expressed a bit of worry about the mini-sub but Sharkey waved it off. It wasn’t so deep that whoever was inside couldn’t easily escape. And if they couldn’t get out, they would still have enough air for at least 10 to 12 hours – plenty of time for Seaview to come pick them up once everything else was sorted out.

In the meantime Nelson and company, from their hiding place, had watched Kowalski circle back and take down the one bad guy before settling next to the side of the building right at the front. They hadn’t noticed the second man attack the senior rating until it was too late to stop it, but had immediately rushed forward. Kowalski had only been knocked unconscious and Will muttered about hard-headed sailors. Lee filled in his part of the showdown. Turned out that his first shot had run true and killed Juan instantly. There were enough holes in Felix that it would be unlikely to ever know who had actually killed him. Buildings were given a quick once over for any remaining bad guys, but nothing official was done until the locals showed up. As Nelson suspected, the actual monks had been locked in. Once released, their frantic Spanish was a bit much for even Lee to follow, and Nelson was granted permission to take his people back to Seaview. Nelson said that they would retrieve the mini-sub, and the authorities could pick it and its contents up the next morning.

Chip, as it turned out, also didn’t exactly follow orders. After Nelson’s call to Sparks, the blond silently submerged the sub and slipped out of the bay. By the time the landing party got back to FS1, the mini-sub was safely tied down in the Missile Room, its two passengers searched and then stowed in the Brig, and nearly 60 kilos of cocaine locked in Chip’s cabin until he could figure out a better place for it. Once Seaview picked up FS1, he quietly returned the sub to its previous seemingly innocent place in the bay just before it started to get light outside.

Nelson didn’t even try to get any sleep. He did order his assault team, Lee included, off-duty for the next 24 hours. Will demanded Kowalski spend at least a few hours in Sick Bay, as well as wanting to check Patterson’s injury. He sent Will a grin as Chip, once everyone started to get sorted out, all but order Lee to his cabin, Lee having decided to ignore Nelson. The Admiral wasn’t stupid enough to tackle Chip when he returned to the Conn barely 20 minutes later. Even though the XO hadn’t had any sleep, either, and would have been worried about everyone else as well as his own part of the raid, there were times not to get in the blond’s face no matter who you were.

Besides, Nelson had his own hands full getting everything sorted out with the locals. Mr. Espinosa had disappeared, nowhere to be found that morning when officials wanted to question him. None of the monks, with the exception of the ones who Lee had learned were ‘banished’, had been injured, only extremely intimidated and held hostage. The only thing ‘Brother Felix’ had to do with wine was how to drink it, apparently. Officials weren’t overly happy about the three dead men at the Monastery. The one Kowalski had dropped was refusing to talk, as were the two from the mini-sub. Nelson decided that he really didn’t want to know what tactics might be used to ‘encourage’ them; he was just glad to get everyone and everything off Seaview so that they could finally go home!

He was surprised, once he finally got the last outsider off his submarine, to enter the Conn and not find Lee antsy to get going. But there was a small grin on his face as he walked up to the chart table. “You mean,” he asked Chip, busy with a clipboard full of notes of some sort, “that Lee actually did take today off?” His voice was full of humor at that most unlikely scenario, but the grin died as he took a good look at Chip’s face. “Now what?” he asked softly.

“Lee isn’t aboard, sir.” Chip also spoke softly but it was more hesitantly, with a look that said he expected Nelson to blow a fuse.

Instead, Nelson took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Where?” came out even softer.

“He didn’t say, sir,” Chip admitted. “He had a small backpack with him, took FS1, said he’d be back in a few hours. I, ah…, well, the look on his face, sir. I decided not to argue the point.”

“Uniform or civvies?”

The question seemed to surprise Chip. “Uniform, sir. Figured that he had some unfinished business. Actually,” the blond continued, “I’m a little surprised that you don’t know.”

“Humm,” Nelson muttered. “No, he said nothing to me.” He pondered for a bit, until he realized that Chip was getting more and more nervous. He forced a smile to appear on his face. “But I might just know where he went. I’ll be in my office finishing all the blasted reports this mess has generated. If Lee’s not back by the time I finish, I’ll go track him down.”

“You sure, sir? I mean…” Chip stopped before he dug the hole he’d unintentionally started any deeper.

Nelson sent him a genuine smile. “We’ll get it sorted out, Chip,” he assured his XO. And Lee’s best friend.

“Yes, sir.”

* * * *

When Lee hadn’t returned nearly two hours later, and with Chip nearly ready to take a few crewmen’s heads off, he was so nervous, Nelson had Sharkey break out a zodiac and take him across to the dock. The COB wasn’t overly thrilled when Nelson then ordered him back to Seaview. FS1 wasn’t in sight, but Nelson had taken a small pack complete with radio and told Sharkey that he’d call if he needed anything. Once the man unhappily headed back to the sub, Nelson headed up the hill toward the Monastery.

He wasn’t sure why he knew that he’d find Lee in the Chapel; he just did. He entered quietly and took a step to the side of the doorway, not sitting down. Lee was on a stone bench about halfway to the simple altar, head bent in either thought or prayer. Perhaps both, Nelson thought to himself, as there were several monks, further forward, in the same position. But he wasn’t at all surprised when Lee lifted his head and turned, somehow knowing that Nelson was there. Lee being Lee, Nelson smiled inwardly at the thought. Lee turned back to the altar for just a moment, then stood and both men walked out.

Neither said anything as Lee led the way across the courtyard and through a heavy stone archway that Nelson hadn’t noticed before. It went through the outer wall, to where a walkway overlooked the ocean below. Nelson did take note that the backpack Chip mentioned was nowhere in sight, but Lee could have left it on FS1. Nor was Lee wearing his uniform cover, perhaps left on the smaller sub as well since his destination was the Chapel. Lee stopped a dozen or so feet beyond the arch while Nelson, after dropping his pack about halfway through, stayed just inside, waiting to see what his captain – his friend – had on his mind that was so obviously troubling the younger man.

It took several minutes. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” came out so softly that Nelson had to strain to hear over the ocean sounds below.

“Do what, Lee? ONI? That will make Chip happy.” He was hoping that the smile in his voice would help Lee relax. But it didn’t.

“I don’t think I can handle the responsibility,” came out a little louder, a little harder. “ONI, Seaview, everything!”

That set Nelson back on his proverbial heels; it was the very last thing he expected to hear. “You always have, and very well.” Nelson tried to keep his voice level. “It’s what you’ve trained most of your life for.”

“I’m not sure I have the right to ask anyone to follow my lead.”

“Your crew will follow you wherever you ask them to.”

“Yeah,” Lee almost screamed, and sent a glare at Nelson. “And I’ve nearly gotten them killed.” He seemed to shrink into himself as he once more stared out to sea. “I have gotten them killed,” came out miserably.

“You’re just tired,” Nelson tried to placate his distraught captain.

“Got that right,” was snarled back.

Nelson had to take a couple of deep breaths to get himself to calm down. Now was definitely not the time to snap at Lee. “We’ll talk again after you’ve had some time off.”

“Is that an order?”

“Do I have to make it one?” Nelson worked hard to once more put a smile in his voice. “Take whatever time you need, Lee. Heaven knows you’ve got plenty on the books. Make whatever decision is right for you.” He started to turn, then added, “Starting now. Take FS1 home. These last few weeks have been a bitch for everyone, not just you.” He wasn’t sure about the look Lee sent him for that crack, but at least he also sent Nelson a quick nod. Nelson left him there, and spent the time it took walking back to the dock trying to figure out what he was going to say once he got back to Seaview. He sighed heavily after calling to have Sharkey come pick him up. “I’m not even sure what to tell myself,” he mumbled, with another deep sigh.

(To be continued in ‘Sensory Overload – Part 3 – Return of the Ox’)

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

* See “The Incident” by R. L. Keller

** See “Stark Trek” by R. L. Keller

*** See “The Assignment” by R. L. Keller

Spanish curtesy of Google Translator – it’s been way too many years since High School Spanish