My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

~In God We Trust~

26

 

Due to our faxed list of the derivative chemical mixture along with the procedures to make my anti-radiation formulation, the US and our allies were able to coat all of our defensive intercepts almost immediately. In addition, our heavy aircraft were able to douse former impact areas such as Yosemite’s and Hawaii’s volcano with the formulation rendering the radioactivity harmless.

 

The Flying Sub had returned a number of time to reload more formulation, and had downed five PRA missiles, and was on her way again.

 

How it must have galled the president to return Seaview herself to active reserve status so soon after having removed us, but our Fail Safe was still on ‘Stand By’.

 

My formulation was ‘the’ newsworthy event on most news broadcasts and there was great jubilation that US and allied forces were now doing such bang up job against our foes, no pun intended.

 

There were still a lot of aerial dog fights going on. And newscasts continued to replay the visual recordings of Lee and Joe’s heroic efforts, and of Lee’s fall into the heavy seas below. We still didn’t know if the waves were simply obscuring him from view, or if he’d never popped back up to the surface. Heat seeking satellites were down and Search and Rescue cutters and choppers had been delayed reaching the area.

 

“Admiral Nelson,” Sparks interrupted my musings, “the Secretary of Defense for you, sir, On the Control Room monitor, split screen three. Not secure.”

“Mr. Secretary?” I greeted him as soon as I approached.

“Well done, Admiral! You may have almost ended the war with that formulation of yours!”

“God willing, but there’s no ‘i’ in teamwork, sir. I had a great deal of help.”

“Yes, well, you can include whoever you want in your report. But we all know it was your work.”

“I’d argue with you, but right now, has there been any word of Lee?”

“About that...Coast Guard Search and Rescue had to devote most of their efforts to recover our downed pilots...and the enemy. Most of them have requested asylum in exchange for some PRA intel.  And even when the Coast Guard finally managed to spare a cutter and a few choppers, they reported the seas, downpours, and winds too rough for any search along the tri state coastline.”

“But...”

“It’s a shame, we know. But frankly...after reviewing the videos, and the fact that he was not seen on the surface for more than a half hour, I’m sorry, I’ve had to declare Nelson-Crane as missing in action....and presumed dead.”

“We can send the Flying Sub....”

“Negative. You know we need her to continue to fire on incoming missiles on the Pacific Ridge, besides you know it would take her hours to get to the Atlantic even at Mach 5. Right now she’s needed to go after the bogeys, not to go on a useless recovery operation. And it is useless. He’s gone, Nelson. You have to accept that.”

“I won’t ! I won’t...not yet,” I panted, though my heart already knew it was probably 99 and 9/10 percent true that Lee was dead. Jiggs pulled me away from the monitor and sat me down on the periscope island’s steps.

“Sir?” Chip asked the SOD, “We know the Flying Sub has more range than Seaview, but why is our Fail-Safe is still on Stand By? Why keep us out of the action?”

“Glitch in the system. We’re working on it. Right now, thank God, the incoming bogey’s are out of Seaview’s range. Look, I can give Seaview a tie in with the DOD Command Center. You’ll be able to see what we have and listen in to all of our communications. You can fire at will if you see something in range before we do. But tell us first....IT thinks several of our systems have been hacked....we’re doing the best we can...oh, and again, congratulations to Admiral Nelson on his formulation. Out.”

“We have a tie in with the DOD Command Center,” Sparks called out almost immediately after, and he enlarged one of the split screens to  showed the busy center, satellite, radar, and actual visual screens along the walls and on computers. Indeed several of the computers had vacant blue screens while IT team members worked furiously to figure out the problems.

 

 “Breaking news,” Sparks added, and enlarged one of the screens without minimizing the DOD Command Center.

 “...We’re at Sand Crab Lane in Cape Cod,” the reporter was saying, “where locals have just been allowed to return to make repairs to their homes damaged by a rouge jet, which was finally brought down by former president Nelson-Crane’s laser beam prosthesis.

 “...Mrs. Crane and most of her neighbors have placed candles, most battery operated,  in what areas of their homes that they can, a tradition to light the way home for their missing sailors loved ones, even during daylight hours.

“... This, in spite of the announcement a few minutes ago from the Dept. of Defense, that Nelson-Crane has been declared missing in action and presumed dead.  Military action and bad weather have made search and recovery still impossible.  So those candles are simply wishful thinking on the part of Mrs. Crane and her neighbors.

 “...In other news, a PRA missile impacted  near Daytona Beach, Florida, about two miles offshore, where the mushroom cloud was quickly doused by heavy aircraft with Admiral Nelson’s anti-radiation formulation rendering the radiation harmless, at least above the water’s surface. Specially garbed divers are applying formulation below the waves. Measurements will be taken soon of any lingering radiation below the waves. For now, the beach is closed, not that anyone would really want to risk being outside, the skies heavy with battling aircraft.

“...A missile also impacted a few miles away from Topeka, Kansas. There is no word of casualties yet but they’re expected to be minimal as it exploded in agricultural farmland.  . The impact zone and all areas ten miles out are being doused with formulation to minimize radiation. It’s  a foregone conclusion that the soil will have to be tested before anything is replanted.

“...Elizabethtown, Kentucky,  almost suffered a similar hit but our forces managed to strike the missile before impact, rendering its nuclear charge harmless, and limiting structural damage from the fuselage.

“...The army has informed us that the vaults at nearby Ft. Knox are completely undamaged.

 “...Meanwhile, Admiral Nelson has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize for his invention.”

 “More breaking news!” Sparks interrupted, and another split screen magnified, minimizing all the others.

“....We’re coming to you live near Provincetown, Massachusetts,” a reporter for Fox News was saying, “where police are investigating reports of a word of a body washed up on the beach.”

Mine wasn’t the only heart to stop, anguished.

 

As the camera panned down the beach we saw a police helicopter barely having been able to land on what remained of the beach as the high waves rolled in.

 

“...You were first to see the body,” the reporter asked a man, also behind the rope closing the steps. “What can you tell us?”

“...Not much. Was far away down the beach. Didn’t see it till some dolphins started acting weird. I think they might have dragged the body. I called the cops but before I could get closer they arrived and made me leave....”

“...The dolphins wouldn’t have bothered if he was dead,” a teenage girl said.

“...But you know it’s a man?” the reporter asked.

“...Well, he’s wearing pants,” the man said.

“...Could be that tourist who fell overboard from one of the sightseeing cruisers a couple of weeks ago,” a woman said.

“...That tourist was blond,” the teenager said, “this man looks like he has black hair. I have him on zoom lens,” she added, showing the prone man, the waves continuing to splash over him as the paramedics were checking him out.

“...And no scavenger birds are about to eat him,” the woman said, “so he’s probably still alive....”

Just then we saw one of the paramedics insert an IV and the team put him on a gurney and took him to the copter.

As the chopper lifted off and a patrol car arrived at the little patch of sand near the steps,  one of the helicopter’s team members left behind climbed up the steps and removed the barricade.

“The victim is unconscious and being airlifted to the hospital. His vitals are stable but not too good.  There are some shark bites,” the cop paused, “and he’s got burns, lacerations, imbedded pieces of what looks like explosive shrapnel. And... he also has metal eye socket on the right side of his face.”

Ohmygod,” the first man said, “It can’t be Nelson-Crane, can it?”

“We won’t know anything for sure before a DNA test is done, though he was carrying some torn and blood stained ID from where some of the bites were...however, it sure looks like he could Nelson-Crane, and he’s also wearing a black onyx ring and a Celtic design ring that are either similar to his or are his.”

“How could he survive the storm?”

“The dolphins, of course,” the woman said. “They’ve often saved lives....”

“Well,” the cop said, “you folks can use the beach now if you want,” and with that got into the patrol car’s passenger seat and drove away.

 

“Sparks!” I yelled.

“Already on hold with Provincetown Hospital.”

 

One by one, more broadcasters began to cover the story. One news team, I couldn’t tell which one, had been welcomed into Mrs. Crane’s home where she and her friends were watching TV, and waiting for more news while Mrs. C. was on her land line phone, waiting, as we were.

Suddenly she motioned her friends to quiet down.

 

 “Yes, this is Mrs. Crane...Sand Crab Lane...It’s him! It’s him! No, not on the phone. The hospital’s just confirmed his DNA with the Navy! Oh, Thank God, thank God! My baby’s alive...yes, I have his power of attorney. Along with Admiral Nelson. He’s on the Seaview...someplace. Oh, yes, they also have a doctor. He has more current medical records...yes, do anything you need to do...he’s allergic to penicillin and the fake stuff. Codeine too...yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She wobbled a bit while she hung up, then, “Can somebody give me a ride to Provincetown?”

“I’ll do better,” the reporter said. “You can ride in our copter. We’ll get permission to land on their roof, I’m sure...are you okay with that?”

“I hate to fly but if it means getting to Lee the quickest I’ll grin and bear it.”

“Admiral?” Sparks called out, “Provincetown hospital calling....I also have Doc on the line with them....”

“This is Nelson,” I said into the radio shack’s phone. “Yes, our Chief Medical Officer will fax you Lee’s records...yes, I have Lee’s power of attorney along with Mrs. Crane’s. Yes, whatever you need to do...how bad is he? He’s regained consciousness? Can I speak with him? I know you’re busy with him but...yes, we have a videophone....yes...however long you let him....”

Just then the radio shack’s monitor revealed the ER where Lee, on additional IV’s, was being stripped and bathed, and freed from the shrapnel, and a few shark teeth.

“Lee?” I asked.

No response though his eyes, well, eye, was open.

“Probably the exhaustion and pain killer,” a nurse said.

“Joe...where’s.... Joe?” he muttered, tossing his head, at least trying to, as it was held steady for examination and preliminary treatment.

“Lee?” I tried again. “Lee, it’s Nelson...”

Har...Harry?”

“Yes, son, I’m here...on the monitor....aboard Seaview.”

“She...she looks good,” he managed, seeing the Control Room behind the Radio Shack, “sounds good too,” he sighed with a grin then furrowing his brows, “Joe? Where’s Joe?” he asked, remembering his first objective.

“He’s just fine,” I said.

“Thank God,” Lee sighed again then began to feel for his prosthesis in his empty socket, “where...oh, yeah...lost it....damn, but I’ll be in hock forever to get a new eyeball.”

“You let me worry about the expenses...the Cessna too...by the way, good job with Mosquito One Delta.”

“Thought you’d...scold me.”

“Oh, I will, but not now....”

“Call for you Admiral,” Sparks interrupted. “Mrs. Nelson. Your cabin. Desk phone.”

“Better take it,” Lee smirked. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to scold me... I will be here, won’t I?” he asked the staff. “I’m still going to be alive when you finish whatever you’re doing to me?”

“Your vitals have improved tremendously,” one of the doctors said. “You’re a very luck man, Mr. President.”

“Just Lee,” Lee yawned.

“Well, for now,” I said.

“The MRI’s?”

“The AMA hasn’t released their official report yet,” Chip said.

“Chipee,” Lee managed with a smile, “take care of my boat...”he added, falling asleep.

“Once we’re done with the ER he’ll get more detailed and permanent repairs...by the way, should we save these?” she held up some shark teeth.

“Absolutely. When he wakes up tell him I expect him to behave. Not that he will...you’ll see from Dr. Jamison’s faxed records that he can be a very difficult patient.”

“Thanks for the warning, Admiral,” one of the doctors said, and turned off the room’s video monitor.

“He’s doing well, Harriman,” Jiggs slapped me on the back as I sagged in relief.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Admiral?” Chip asked.

“Huh?”

“Your call from Mrs. Nelson?”

“Oh gawd, she’s going to kill me for taking so long....”I said as I hurried aft.

***

“Emmie?” I asked as soon as I picked up my desk phone.

“Sorry to bother you, dear, but when I saw the news...I’m so proud of you...and such good news about Lee being alive....”

“They let me see him! Hurt, but in good spirits considering...still in the ER, so I don’t really know too much yet...how are you doing?”

“I’m fine...a bit tired, but that’s to be expected. Anyway, basically I called to let you know that I want the twins to be named after Lee...their middle names at least. Good thing it’s a name for either gender. And we can spell them differently if it’s too confusing for records and things.”

“If Lee approves.”

“If he grumbles, you tell him he has no choice. So they’ll be Aurora Leigh and Jimmy Lee Nelson.”

“You believe in his out of body experience, then?”

“I believe in Lee, not necessarily what he thinks happened.”

“Thank you for that, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’d better let you get back to work...keep yourself and Seaview safe. Love you.”

“Love you back,” I said and ended the call.

Before I headed back to the Control Room, I pulled out a reserved bottle of Glen Livet I’d kept hidden away in case of emergencies or celebrations. Now was as good a time as ever, and opening it, I took a few slugs straight from the bottle. I was about to take it forward with me to share, but we were in the Navy now, so I thought better of it.

 

I was hoping by now we’d progressed from ‘Stand By’ to ‘Fire’ at any incoming targets, but we weren’t.  Still, our participation in the war effort wasn’t over, not  by a long shot yet.

~***~

Chapter Twenty Seven