Sensory Overload

Part One – The Atoll

By R. L. Keller

Sensory Overload! So many wonderful pictures from Pauline, Gail, and Carol that I couldn’t decide which to choose first. Then my warped brain started putting several together into a sort of storyboard. Not entirely sure, as I sit here gazing at them, where this line of thinking will take me. But all things considered, it should be an interesting ride. This one is presented for the contest named “The Bunker.”

Lee double-checked Seaview’s position on the chart, ordered Helm to come to “Dead stop, hold trim,” and reached for the mic attached to the chart table. “Admiral,” he spoke after double-clicking the instrument, “we’ve reached your marked coordinates.”

There was only a momentary pause. “Good, Lee. Come to periscope depth. I’ll be right there.”

“Yes, sir.” As he relayed those orders to Helm, he played back the last twelve hours in his mind.

Seaview, NIMR’s research submarine, was on a routine charting mission for NOAA, plus taking supplies to a team of scientists studying ocean currents in Indonesia. They had barely started on their trip home when Admiral Nelson got a call from ComSubPac, which he’d taken in his cabin. His expression grim, he’d come down to the Control Room half an hour later. He’d laid a set of coordinates, hastily scratched it looked like, on the chart table and ordered Lt. Keeter, who had the Conn at that hour of the night, to head there at full speed and immediately went back to his cabin.

Lee and his XO, Chip Morton, didn’t find out about the change until the next morning; Nelson hadn’t bothered to inform either of the change in plans. He did express a bit of curiosity, when he joined them for breakfast, that neither had felt the change in Seaview’s motion. Lee, especially, was usually so tuned in to his ‘Gray Lady’s’ movements that he could be all but dead and still notice any subtle changes. Both senior officers shrugged, citing a later than usual poker game that had broken out the evening before because of the quietness of the cruise, and wondered out loud if the boat’s CMO, Dr. Will Jamison, had perhaps spiked the last of the hot cocoa that had been served just prior to the game breaking up. Both men looked expectantly at their boss, waiting for an explanation to the change in plans, but Nelson merely hurried through a quick breakfast and returned to his cabin. All Lee and Chip could do was finish their own meal and follow orders.

Now, at 1230 hours, Lee could only send Chip a shrug as the blond returned from a hastily eaten lunch. Lee, knowing that they were approaching Nelson’s coordinates, hadn’t wanted to leave the Conn.

“Still no reason?” Chip asked quietly, coming to a stop shoulder to shoulder with his CO – and best friend.

As footsteps sounded at the top of the spiral stairs Lee spoke, also quietly. “Hopefully we are about to find out.”

The pair said nothing more as Nelson all but stomped into the Conn, sour expression on his face and saying nothing beyond, “Up periscope.” The expression didn’t change when he had to stop and adjust the height setting, the periscope set to his captain’s slightly taller stature. The only sound for nearly two minutes came from Seaview’s instrumentation. Finally, Nelson took a step back and glared out Seaview’s unique front windows as he hit the button to drop the periscope into its running position. He took a deep breath and finally glanced at Lee. “Depth to sea floor?” came out in almost a normal tone, but both Lee and Chip heard the slightly nasty edge in the Admiral’s voice.

While the fathometer was within Nelson’s vision, Lee didn’t hesitate. A quick look and he called out, “Just under 500 feet, sir,”

“Harrumph,” came out, actually fairly under control. “Set her on the bottom, then you two come to my cabin,” came the order, and Nelson stomped back up the spiral stairs. Lee gave his head a small shake as Chip gave the orders while Lee called Lt. James, on his own lunch break, forward to take the Conn. Once everything was as ordered, Lee and Chip headed for the Admiral’s cabin. Chip tried to lighten the tense mood by gently teasing Lee about not yet having eaten. Once more Lee shrugged, although with a small smile as he recognized and acknowledged Chip’s subtle way to try and lighten the tension he could easily read in his friend’s shoulders. They quickly reached the Admiral’s cabin door and Lee tapped lightly.

“Enter,” was growled from within and both did, standing almost at Attention after Chip closed the door softly behind them. Nelson finally glanced up from the papers spread out on his desk, took note of the men’s attitude, grunted, and sent them a small grin as he waved to the two visitor’s chairs by his desk. “As you’ve no doubt already figured out, I’m not overly happy with last night’s phone call.”

“Not the first time, sir,” Lee offered carefully.

Nelson snorted, nodded, and added, “Probably not the last time, either.”

“No, sir,” Lee agreed.

Nelson took in a huge breath, seemed to suddenly realize how hazy the cabin was as well as how full his ashtray had become, and rose to adjust the air filtration in his cabin. “You know where we are,” he told them as he returned to his desk chair. He knew that was the first thing both would have checked the instant that they hit the Conn that morning. Not that Lt. Keeter wouldn’t have also noted it.

“Majuro Atoll, Marshall Islands,” Lee answered. “Sitting almost dead center in the lagoon.”

Nelson grimaced. “And ‘Dead’ may be the operative word,” came out not quite under his breath. Both Lee and Chip instantly sat up straighter in their chairs. Not that they’d been slouching, but… Nelson sent them both a nod. “Intel has been intercepted, indicating that there’s a plot by the People’s Republic to install a plutonium bomb on a secluded section of the atoll, supposedly big enough to take out most of Indonesia and cause havoc from Australia all the way up to Japan and beyond, and even affecting our Pacific coastline.”

“Wouldn’t it also affect their own country if it’s that powerful?” Chip asked. “And why here, sir?”

“The powers that be in the People’s Republic aren’t exactly known for being logical,” Nelson growled nastily.

“No, sir,” Chip acquiesced.

“And I don’t even want to contemplate how something that powerful would devastate the entire Pacific Ocean,” came out with even more anger.

“No, sir,” came back in stereo from the younger men.

Nelson took another deep breath, seeming to get himself back under control. “Anyway, our people don’t think that the bomb has been delivered, just a forward team sent in to get things going. We’ve been tasked with the job of finding the location so that a SEAL team, already scrambled but at least another day out, can be sent in to stop the people behind it before they can carry out their threat.” His expression went nasty again. “I hope that’s all it is – a threat.”

“Blackmail the countries most affected,” Lee postulated.

Nelson nodded. “But with the PR allegedly behind it, no one can take the chance.”

“Agreed.” Lee took his own deep breath. “Any clues as to where to start looking, sir?”

Nelson sorted through several sheets of paper, selected one, and handed it across the desk. Both Lee and Chip read the scant intel: deserted part of Majuro Atoll, look for a mine entrance.

“Mine entrance?” Chip sputtered out before he could stop it. “On an atoll?”

“There actually was, at one point, several varieties of minerals being mined,” Nelson told him. “When you remember that atolls are the remnants of long-dead volcanoes that helped form the planet it makes a little more sense.”

“Yes, sir.” But Chip still shook his head.

“They would build a ‘mine entrance,’ so to speak,” Nelson continued, “in an elevated area, go in not that far, and then dig straight down into the walls of the old volcano.” His eyes sparkled for just a moment. “All sorts of interesting things down there.”

“But we’re talking over fifty islands that fall under the heading of Majuro Atoll.” Lee didn’t quite make it sound like an argument.

“Sixty-four at last count,” Nelson agreed. “But satellite observation has thankfully narrowed the search area to just a handful, all supposedly uninhabited but still visited by tourists and locals alike. And also narrowed down to those with spots high enough above sea level to have been used for mining. The ones highlighted here,” and he passed over another sheet of paper, which turned out to be a high aerial photo of the area with three marked atolls, “are our best targets.”

“Were you given suggestions on how to proceed, sir?”

“Surveillance only,” he said. “At least, if possible. Of course, if we’re challenged we have the right to defend ourselves.”

“That’s a given,” Chip muttered softly, and Lee nodded.

“We’ll wait until dark and send out three teams, one to each of the most promising sites…”

“All at the same time?” Lee cut him off. “But…”

Nelson did his own cutting off with an upraised hand. “If we’re detected at a wrong site, that might give people at the right one time to do something drastic, and totally undesirable.”

“Understood, sir,” Lee surrendered, but his voice told the other two that he still wasn’t happy. “Which of the three is the most likely, sir, do you know?”

Nelson almost smiled, knowing that that would be the place Lee would assign to himself and his chosen team. But he put Lee off a bit longer. “Pick your teams, Lee, this afternoon. Keep them to two to three men per team, and we’ll all meet in the Wardroom at 1930 hours.”

“Why so few men to a team, sir?” Chip beat Lee asking by only a fraction of a second.

“I want everyone reminded that this is primarily to pinpoint the right location. There’s a combined SEAL/Special Forces team standing by, or will be by tomorrow morning, at Midway Air Base.” Nelson’s face contorted into as nasty an expression as the CO and XO had ever seen on their boss. “Seaview and her crew are not the CNO’s personal hit squad,” came out in a snarl.

“Seems like it, though,” Lee said almost to himself.

* * * *

Lee did finally eat lunch, although it was noted by Cookie that the entire meal consisted of half a ham sandwich and at least five cups of coffee – he lost count after that. The oft-put-upon chef would not have been made any happier if he’d discovered that several more cups of his powerful brew had been consumed as Lee sat in the Nose with Seaview’s Master-At-Arms, Chief Hauck, and her COB, Chief Sharkey. Telling them the gist of the assignment and showing them the aerial photo with the most serious sites noted, he asked for their advice on which crew members to include on the – hopefully – reconnaissance only of the three sites. The other two didn’t even consider that Lee might not lead one team – that was a total given for their CO. As Lee had expected, both chiefs offered to lead a team as well. Lee hesitated only a moment in accepting, after which suggestions were made for each team’s members.

“Kowalski and Jackson with you, sir,” Hauck told his CO with a firm tone, and Lee had to bury a smile. The MAA had instantly assigned two of Seaview’s fiercest, most well-trained crewmen to protect her captain. Lee merely nodded. “I’ll take Leland and Kiley,” Hauck named two of his Security team.

“Chief?” Lee turned to the COB. “Patterson and Lakeland,” Sharkey answered instantly. Lee approved all choices.

“Which team to which site?” Hauck asked.

“I’m thinking that, if they are even there, they’d want to stay as far away from locals as possible.” He got nods from the other two. “I’ll take this one,” he pointed to the most remote and got barely covered grins back. Everyone aboard the giant submarine knew that Lee would always be first to take the most dangerous assignments. “Chief Hauck, you get this one,” he pointed to the second most remote.

“That leaves this one for me,” Sharkey spoke the obvious, but all three merely nodded and they spent the next hour discussing overall details, even though that hadn’t been Nelson’s original orders.

The OOM found them still there, but just standing up, when he came down the spiral stairs. He sent Lee a raised eyebrow. “Three surveillance details organized as best we can with the limited intel, sir,” Lee told him.

“Good,” Nelson told him. He started to pour a cup of coffee as the two chiefs disappeared to get preparations in order for the night’s activities but the pot Cookie or his assistant, Higgins, tried to keep full in Seaview’s Nose was empty. Nelson just shook his head as Lee half-lowered his in slight embarrassment.

“Again?” came from the chart table and both Lee and Nelson turned toward Chip, Lee with a glare and Nelson with almost amusement. “Higgins has been up here twice already this afternoon,” the blond continued as he reached for the mic.

“Never mind,” Nelson told him. “I’ll get mine in the Wardroom. Obviously,” he sent a nod in Lee’s direction, “no more is needed up here.” He headed out the aft hatch as Lee continued to frown at his XO. But they both finally nodded softly and got back to boat’s business.

Nelson was just pouring his second cupful, the first having gone down in closely consecutive swallows, when Will Jamison walked through the door. “Cookie,” the doctor called out amiably through the passageway into the Galley, “I think sometimes that this crew stays healthier on your coffee than it does on my medicines.” Nelson nearly snorted that beverage out his nose, but ended up laughing.

“Now, Doc,” the premier chef, and Seaview’s back-up Nuclear Reactor technician, started to disagree, “I would never make that kind of claim.” He paused. “But the Skipper does swear by my beef-barley soup.” All three men chuckled, and Will poured his own mugful of Cookie’s powerful brew before settling down at the nearest table with Nelson.

“Scuttlebutt has a mission afoot,” Will said casually. The half-smile that had remained on Nelson’s face died instantly. “That bad?”

“Remember when that megalomaniac tried to capitalize on the double earthquake that was set to make tidal waves big enough to kill half the world’s coastal population?” Nelson muttered.*

“Before my time aboard,” Will did a little muttering of his own. “But I’ve sure heard plenty about it. The Skipper’s first cruise aboard, as I recall.”

Nelson’s nasty expression softened ever so slightly. “Yes,” he told Will, and then shook his head. “The mission that cost me Seaview’s first captain, John Phillips. Say a prayer that you don’t have to experience that amount of terror before we get home,” came out, not quite unsteadily, but not quite in Nelson’s usual firm tone, either.

Will shuddered, and then called out, “Cookie, whatever you do, keep the coffee coming!”

* * * *

FS1 was packed tight as she left her berth at 0030 hours. Seaview had been raised from the seafloor only far enough to launch the little craft. Nelson himself piloted her, with Lee in the second seat and eight other men settled quietly on the deck. All nine strike-force were dressed in cami’s and heavily, if discreetly, armed.

COB Sharkey’s team was the first to be dropped off. Because of the remoteness of the area, Nelson could back FS1 into the shoreline and the three men quickly exited the aft hatch before Nelson scurried back to deeper water. Chief Hauck and his team were deposited on shore near their target just as easily.

Lee wasn’t to have such an easy landing; it turned out that where Nelson had intended to drop them off was more rocky than sandy, and the three men were forced to exit the upper hatch and wade through several feet of water to reach land. Nelson sent him an apologetic look but Lee merely shrugged and he, Kowalski, and Jackson made sure they kept radios and armaments high and dry as they scrambled ashore. Once there he sent a quick wave to Nelson, and FS1 returned to the depths as Lee and his team melted into the scrub trees that covered this area of raised atoll.

They moved silently to the top of the rise, and Lee used night-vision goggles to scan both directions. It took him almost a full minute but he finally spotted the edge of a sturdy timber set into the short hillside. All looked quiet and deserted but he still clenched a fist, indicating to the others to remain quiet. He then pointed toward the timber roughly thirty yards to his right and the trio moved out. They stayed on their side of the hillock, just below the top, until Lee decided that they were near his target and all three crept, belly down, until they could just peek over the top.

From there, about four yards short of their target, all three could make out the old mine entrance. Two heavy upright beams about five feet apart were topped by an even heavier beam, creating an entrance roughly six feet high and just barely beneath the top of the raised bit of land. Again Lee waited but there were absolutely no sounds of anything not naturally made, nor were there any signs that humans had been anywhere near, anytime recent. Lee sent the other two men a quick nod and all three crept down to the entrance, alert for any small discrepancy to this being anything other than an old abandoned mine shaft. As cautious as they were, it still took them only moments to decide that this wasn’t their target. While relieved, there was still a bit of disappointment in Lee’s voice as he called Nelson for retrieval, and the three men made their way back to the pick-up point. Once back aboard FS1, soggy from another short trek through the water, Kowalski and Jackson settled once more on the deck as Lee dropped a bit heavily into the copilot’s seat, the adrenaline surge at the beginning of the ‘hunt’ rapidly wearing off. Nelson raised an eyebrow but Lee shrugged it off and Nelson swiftly backed once more into deeper waters.

“The other teams?” Lee asked once the little craft was safely below the surface.

“Sharkey just called; nothing at their location. We’ll pick them up, and if Chief Hauck hasn’t called in yet I’ll take you all back to Seaview.” He raised a hand as Lee started to complain. “No sense the rest of you sitting around doing nothing. Hauck had the widest part of the atoll to cross, and you three especially,” he waved a hand at the other two, “need to get out of those wet clothes.” Lee frowned but surrendered. Once Nelson had made up his mind about something there was little chance of anyone changing it without a serious reason, of which Lee, under the circumstances, had none. Nelson did wait for about five minutes after picking up Sharkey and his team. But hearing nothing from Chief Hauck, and not wanting to call in case it disturbed needed quiet, Nelson headed for Seaview. Lee made one try, asking if perhaps it would be prudent to drop Lee, and maybe a couple others, off at Hauck’s location in case they needed help. Nelson reminded Lee that, were that the case Hauck would have already called for backup, and Lee kept quiet the rest of the short trip back to Seaview.

Lee wasn’t at all surprised to find Chip still in the Conn, although by now Lt. Keeter had already taken over from Lt. O’Brien since it was now almost 0400 hours. He frowned none-the-less, and it only deepened as Chip crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Lee and his team. “You’re dripping on Seaview’s nice clean decks,” Chip muttered.

Lee’s glare back caused several chuckles around the Conn to be squashed, somewhat unsuccessfully, before he got back to business. “Chief Hauck hasn’t called in.” It wasn’t a question that he directed at Lt. Keeter.

“No, sir,” came instantly back. Lee still didn’t move until Nelson exited FS1’s upper hatch. Reluctantly Lee headed for his cabin, followed by Chip. Nothing more was said, however, and both entered their own cabins.

But once he was cleaned up, Lee put khaki’s on instead of pj’s, ignoring the need to get at least a little sleep for what remained of the night. He told himself that Chief Hauck and his chosen men were well trained, and perfectly capable of carrying out their assignment without his hovering. He told himself that he was just going back down to the Conn to stow his extra weapons into the forward gun locker. But once there he wandered through the Conn, glancing at instrumentation and saying a few words to each of the duty crew, and ended up back at the Radio Shack where, at this hour, Seaman Haskins had the duty. He was a little surprised that neither Chip nor Nelson had so far appeared to harass him for not resting.

He was just about to head for the Wardroom for the two bites of breakfast he just might get down around the case of nerves that had continued to build when ‘something’ came through from Chief Hauck’s walkie-talkie channel. Haskins tried to connect to the channel as fast as possible, but even after those few seconds the line was dead. Lee was just about to head for FS1 to start pre-flight and head for that team’s position when Admiral Nelson scurried down the spiral stairs. His being the only orders that could prevent Lee’s immediate departure, Lee all but fumed while Nelson sorted through the slim facts. He had also been worried, but decided that the boat didn’t need two of her senior officers pacing and had managed to stay in his cabin. Now, he got things a bit more organized than Lee’s head-long charge into whatever was going on. He did sent Lee to start FS1, telling him to arm himself first. Seaman Kowalski happened to wander into the Conn at that moment. He’d also been unable to rest after getting back; the two men with Hauck happened to be good friends of his. Nelson gave him the same orders as Lee, hoping that the senior rating’s presence might help Lee stay a little more under control until Nelson could gather who else he wanted – Sharkey, Riley, Macklin, and Dr. Jamison.

By now, of course, it was daylight so, while weapons were present, they weren’t boldly displayed at this point. Nelson had the doctor stay aboard the small craft, accompanied by Riley, until they could figure out what the heck was going on. Once they got close enough to their target to determine that there didn’t seem to be any civilians around, everyone put on sidearms while Sharkey and Macklin also carried rifles they’d kept hidden under light tarps.

Cautiously they crept up their side of the rise in land. Well, Nelson kept everyone cautious that he could. Lee wasn’t taking orders well at that point, no matter who was giving them. Nelson had had to warn his old friend, and ComSubPac, Admiral Jiggs Stark, on several occasions not to get between Lee and his crew. Now, Nelson was having to take some of his own advice. He had to admit that he’d been a little surprised that Lee agreed to go back to Seaview in the first place, without physically checking on Chief Hauck and his team.

The trees, somewhat surprising to find on an atoll, didn’t provide much cover; their trunks weren’t of large circumference and there was minimal brush beneath them, mostly just grass with some scrawny-limbed bushes. Nor was there much to hide the slaughter the men discovered as they crossed the top and dropped down in front of a mine shaft almost identical to the one Lee and his team had explored earlier. Four bodies came into view, scattered around the mine entrance. Two were strangers, but crewmen Leland and Kiley were instantly recognized. After the momentary shock of finding the grizzly scene, all were immediately checked, but it was apparent that they were all dead. Another stranger lay just inside the mine entrance, also dead.

“Chief,” Lee yelled. He wasn’t sure that he expected an answer so wasn’t surprised when his yell was greeted with silence, the only sounds a few birds, the gathering insects, and waves hitting the shoreline twenty or so feet away. Lee waved a hand and everyone spread out, searching for Seaview’s MAA. Nelson radioed Riley to come help, and bring Jamison with him, although at that point there didn’t seem much for the doctor to do.

Will let out a gasp at first sight of the bodies, but quickly pulled himself together and began double-checking, confirming that they were, in fact, all dead. Kowalski could barely contain his grief at the loss of his two friends, and Lee wasn’t much better. Will stood with them for a second, not really knowing what to say to either of them that would help, other than it appeared that all the men had died fairly quickly of massive blood loss from multiple gunshot wounds. ‘Ski hung his head, but Lee seemed to be the most affected, dropping his head into his hand and rubbing his temple, his eyes all but covered as he seemed unable to look at all the loss of life.

But suddenly there was a shout from Sharkey, about twenty yards to the left of the death scene behind a small bush. Everyone ran to him, but gave Doc room to get the closest. Hauck, at first glance, also appeared to have perished in whatever conflagration had taken place, but Will almost immediately discovered a pulse. Riley and Macklin ran to get the bags of supplies Will had brought, as well as a folding litter and several blankets.

“We should have checked on them,” Nelson heard Lee mutter angrily, albeit not all that loud as he watched the doctor identify Hauck’s injuries. He tried to lay a comforting hand on Lee’s shoulder but the brunet shook it off. “We should not have gone back to Seaview!” His glare made it seem that he was accusing Nelson of some gross negligence, although Nelson saw only pain in Lee’s all-too-expressive eyes, not anger.

“20-20 hindsight,” Nelson told his captain. They both looked as Will directed Riley and Macklin to gently lift Hauck onto the field stretcher.

“One shot hit his left thigh,” Will told them as he gathered up his primary medical kit and prepared to head back to FS1. “Blood loss, but nothing seriously damaged. But one bullet creased his skull just over his right ear. Didn’t go deep, bled like a stuck pig, and I’m guessing caused a mild concussion. He would have gone down instantly and, because of all the blood, the bad guys probably thought that he was dead.”

Nelson nodded. As Lee went to help tie knots in the corners of a couple blankets to help carry Seaview’s dead, Nelson and Sharkey went through the other bodies, collecting weapons and any identifying papers they could find, as well and thoroughly searching what they could of the mine itself. He caught Lee looking at him as he came out of the entrance. “We’ll leave everything just as we found it, with the exception of our own men and what I’ve confiscated. There are no signs of anything or anybody else having been here. Once we’re back aboard Seaview, have Sparks do his magic with the radio and make an untraceable, anonymous, call to the authorities about the other bodies.”

Lee didn’t even manage a “Yes, sir,” merely nodded, and helped carry his dead back to the Flying Sub. Nelson and Sharkey shared a quick look, but did a last policing of the area to make sure nothing remained that could be traced back to Seaview or NIMR, and followed the sad procession to the other side of the hill.

* * * *

The entire crew was more silent and contained as Seaview returned to Santa Barbara. Duties were diligently performed but, not unnaturally, with very little unnecessary chatter. Nelson saw little of Lee those three days. It wasn’t all that unusual for Lee to be moody when things weren’t going well. Chief Hauck, thankfully, was recovering nicely, but was unable to supply much of a report as to what had actually happened. He did confirm that there had only been the three bad guys visible before all hell broke loose the moment they spotted Hauck and his men. Hauck had gone down almost instantly so had no idea how the other five all ended up dead. He’d come to at some point, all quiet around him. Realizing that he still had the walkie-talkie, he tried to send out a call. But he’d only managed a small squeak before once more losing consciousness.

It was usually only Nelson and Will at regular mealtimes the whole trip back. Cookie, consulted, confirmed that Lee, mostly bugged by Chip, was eating but at odd times. Will raised an eyebrow when Nelson admitted that Lee was probably ticked at him; that eventually they’d get their working relationship/friendship once more sorted out. There had been disagreements before; Lee just needed time to realize that, even if they’d gotten there sooner it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. Will suggested that maybe it was time to kick Lee off NIMR property for a week or so once they got back. Both older men half-grinned, half-grimaced. Seems that was about the only time Lee would take a vacation – when Will made him! But he nearly always came back to work the better for having taken a break.

Chip, as usual, was keeping a close watch on his brother-in-all-ways-except-blood. He wasn’t overt – Lee was perfectly capable of telling the blond exactly what he could do with unwanted commentary. But the last night before hitting port he showed up at Lee’s cabin for the usual 2000 hours report, bringing with him a carafe of hot cocoa and two large mugs. As he set everything down on Lee’s desk, the brunet glared first at the carafe and then at Chip.

“One of Jamie’s ‘doctored’ brews?” came out not quite as nasty as Chip was expecting, and he sent Lee a small grin.

“Watched Cookie make it myself. Milk, cocoa powder, and a little sugar. I swear.” Instead of crossing his heart he drew a quick peace sign in the air as he sat down in the visitor’s chair next to Lee’s desk and poured them both full, steaming mugful’s.

Lee reached for his, blew on it, took a small sip as it was still a little hot to swallow much at a time, and leaned back against the tall back of his desk chair. “I’m still a little surprised that he hasn’t tackled me head on,” he admitted.

“He’s left you to me,” Chip told him almost shyly.

Lee took another sip. “I know that the Admiral thinks I’m mad at him for the delay.”

“Are you?” Chip asked carefully.

“No.” Lee sat quietly for a few moments. “I’m just mad!”

Chip nodded. “And you have every right to be. It was supposed to be a simple little reconnaissance, not a blood bath. No one had any idea that the bad guys would start shooting before even knowing who they were shooting at.” Chip’s voice had risen with its own streak of anger and frustration and he took a big swallow of cocoa, forgetting that it was still very hot. His instant reaction to the mistake actually put a small smile on Lee’s face, and Chip returned it once he got himself back under control. “There’s nothing pressing once we get home tomorrow,” he continued.

“Except an ‘In’ basket on my desk that by this time is at least two feet high,” Lee countered.

Chip shrugged. “Most of which can wait a little longer. Let’s both take a few days off and go hiking.”

Lee sent the blond a look over the top of his mug as he took another small sip. “That didn’t turn out so well the last time we tried that.”**

Chip frowned before a broad grin hit his face. “Did rather like the story,” he told Lee, then frowned again. “Well, parts of it anyway.”

It was Lee’s turn to grin slightly, but he was non-committal about taking a few days off. As it turned out, that was just as well.

(To be continued in “Sensory Overload, part 2 – Endure)

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

* See episode “Eleven Days to Zero”

** See “Temple of the Serpent” by R. L. Keller