Missing
By R. L. Keller
Harriman Nelson,
four-star admiral (Ret,), Nobel prize winner, owner-director of the Nelson
Institute of Marine Research as well as the Institute’s futuristic submarine,
Seaview, let out a long heavy sigh as he glanced at the clock on his
desk. Nearly Midnight and he was still in his office on the top
floor of NIMR’s Admin Building. Angie, his PA, had left hours ago
after trying unsuccessfully to make Nelson leave as well. He’d
frowned and pointed to the large stack of folders in his ‘In’ basket.
“Unless someone put
something there that I haven’t seen,” she started, “and if I find out who that
someone was they won’t live long enough to apologize…” Nelson
snorted at the threat knowing that there wasn’t a NIMR employee anywhere who
would be stupid enough to try bypassing the woman’s orderly management
system. “There’s nothing in that stack,” she continued, “that can’t
wait until you’ve had a decent meal and enough sleep to actually understand
what you’re reading.”
Nelson briefly glared at
her and nearly told her to mind her own business. Happily, he
inwardly acknowledged that she was minding her business – and
his – and sent her a quick nod. “I want to go over my notes for
tomorrow’s meeting with Lee and Chip,” he told her, “then I’m out of here.”
“Doc is finally letting
Lee back on the grounds?” came out softly. Cdr. Lee B. Crane,
Seaview’s captain, had been banished by Dr. Will Jamison, NIMR’s CMO, following
the sub’s last cruise.* Deemed in need of some down time despite his
assurance that he was ‘Just fine’ the doctor, with Nelson’s approval, had
ordered Lee to a week’s R&R anywhere but on NIMR property. But
that had only been four days ago.
Nelson frowned briefly
before a chuckle snuck out. “You mean, Lee was on the grounds this
afternoon and you didn’t hear about it?” he teased her. One of the
things that made the woman such a valuable asset, both to NIMR and especially
to Nelson personally, was the fact that she was tuned in to everything that
happened around her. Now she merely sent Nelson a glare, which
caused him to chuckle louder. “He went up to his friend’s
cabin.” Nelson’s chuckle turned to a puzzled frown. “Came
down this afternoon muttering something about a killer rabbit…” He
stopped when Angie burst out laughing.
“That’s what
Megan was muttering about,” she finally got out. At Nelson’s
continued puzzlement she continued, now more under control. “Megan Delaport, one of the newer nurses in Med Bay.”
Nelson sat a bit forward
in his chair. “Chip’s newest lady friend?”
Angie waggled a hand. “He’s
trying, she’s resisting.” She grinned. “We’ll
see.” Nelson sat back with a grin. “Anyway, when she
left…” Angie sent Nelson another small glare, “at the correct time of 1700
hours,” came out firmly. Nelson casually waved a hand at the stack
of folders and Angie muttered something too low to be heard
clearly. “Whatever,” came out in an almost snarl before she gave
herself a quick shake. “Megan dropped off the overtime hours sheets
to Accounting for head Nurse Krause laughing that there had been a Bunnicula sighting.” Nelson raised the expected
eyebrow. “A children’s story about a half-rabbit,
half-Dracula.” She snickered. “Halloween isn’t that far
off so I didn’t bother making her explain.”
“It’s my understanding
that Lee had a previous encounter with a rabbit up there; something about going
for a run and taking a mis-step when a bunny – and I
seriously doubt that it’s the same one, by the way – jumped out of the bushes
right in front of him.” He sent Angie a look as she almost smirked.
“A female bunny?” she
asked oh so innocently, and they both laughed. It was a bit of NIMR
folklore that Lee seemed to attract female everythings!
“Whatever,” Nelson
answered, still smiling broadly. “Anyway,” he got back to business,
“Will was apparently satisfied that Lee had at least relaxed for a few days…”
“Or he surrendered to
Lee’s grumbling,” Angie hypothesized.
“That, too,” Nelson
agreed. “Either way I suggested that he and Chip come over to my
place for breakfast at 0700.” He grinned. “Figured that
I’d keep him away from Will at least a little bit longer.”
“Then I suggest you get
some rest,” came out firmly. “You’ll need it to keep up with that
pair.”
Nelson
frowned. He’d have liked to be angry at the all-but-order but there
was too much truth to it. Instead, he waved her off with a quick
nod. He did, actually, intend to leave shortly after
her. But there was a phone call he needed to make, then the next
folder needed his immediate attention so he jotted down half a page of notes
for how it should be handled, then…
So, it was nearly 0030
when he walked through the front door of his house.
* * * *
A very short tap of car
horn stopped Lee as he limped toward his boss’ front door the next
morning. Already knowing who it was, Lee turned and greeted Lt. Cdr.
Charles P. Morton, his XO, best friend, and
brother-in-all-ways-except-blood. The blond, known to most as Chip,
parked his SUV next to Lee’s little red sportscar,
then frowned as he joined Lee on the walkway. “Where’s the cane
Jamie told you to use?” Chip tried to sound harsh but there was too
much amusement in his eyes for the demand to have the desired
effect. He knew Lee only too well!
“Wrapped around your
head if you’re not careful,” Lee also growled before both men cracked up and
continued to Nelson’s front door, albeit a good bit slower than usual as Lee
continued to favor his left ankle.
There was no answer to
Lee’s knock and the pair shared a look. “He’s probably in the
kitchen,” Lee speculated. While Nelson had a housekeeper, sometimes
he liked to do his own cooking. That had led to at least one major
calamity** and Lee and Chip shared a quick snicker before heading around to the
side patio that lead directly into the kitchen. That door was open
and the screen door unlatched so they entered, Lee calling out “Admiral?” when
they found the room empty. Nor was there any evidence of an
impending meal being prepared. “Admiral?” Lee yelled out a little
louder. Still no answer. Starting to get worried, Lee
began searching the lower level rooms as Chip quickly headed upstairs.
His search proving
fruitless, or rather, Admiral-less, Chip found Lee in the livingroom
staring at a sheet of paper. “What’s that?” he asked.
Lee held it out to
him. “A lie,” came out in a dark growl. Chip stared at
him just a moment; Lee only used that tone when he was extremely ticked. ‘Got a
call from an old friend,’ the note read in what Chip easily recognized as
Nelson’s neat script. ‘Headed out for a few days. Nothing
pressing. Here’s the notes I wanted you both to work
on. Nelsen.’ Chip glanced back up at Lee whose expression
was, if possible, even darker than it had been.
“Lee,” Chip tried to
sound calm, “what’s wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time the
Admiral’s disappeared for a few days.” He nudged Lee and tried to
snicker. “What was the name of the redhead we saw him with a few
days ago?”
The comment
backfired. “He’s in trouble,” Lee said in a tone that sent a shiver
down Chip’s spine.
“Why would you say
that?” Chip didn’t say it as a challenge; he had too much respect
for Lee’s temper. But he honestly didn’t understand why the note had
set his friend so on edge. Yes, it would be extremely unusual for
Nelson to do something like this. But memory of the redhead almost
put a smile on his face.
“Look again,” Lee said
through gritted teeth. When Chip only shook his head after a second
reading Lee glared at him. “The signature!” Chip still
showed his confusion. “The second ‘E’,” Lee all but yelled.
Chip looked closer and
finally saw it. Nelson had very definitely written
N-e-l-s-e-n. “Lee,” Chip started carefully, “he was probably just
excited.” He tried a smile. “That was one lovely red…”
“NO!” Lee shouted at
him, grabbed the paper back with one hand and reached for his cellphone with
the other. “Don’t touch anything,” he warned Chip as he punched in a
number, and Chip stood absolutely still. Whatever had Lee on edge –
and Chip figured that it was much more than a misspelled name but had no idea
what or why – he had no wish to get in the brunet’s line of fire!
“Security,” Lee growled
when his call was answered, “get a forensic team to the Admiral’s
house. Now!” and he hit ‘End’ before there could have been a
response. Chip remained still as Lee started prowling, touching
nothing except with his eyes but those were almost blazing, missing nothing.
“Lee?” Chip tried again.
“The Admiral was trying
to leave a message that he was in trouble,” Lee told him, his voice a bit
softer. “He didn’t leave here of his own accord. I know
it. We have to find him.”
“You find him with the
redhead and more will be hurting than your ankle,” Chip tried to reason, but
his smile faded in the face of Lee’s glare. “Okay,” he surrendered,
“I admit that idea is very un-Nelson. But we can’t
go off half-cocked.”
“Hence Security’s
forensic exam,” Lee calmed down. A little. Chip could
easily read extreme tension in his friend’s body. But at that moment
the front doorbell rang and Chip went to let in NIMR’s Head of Security, Dewey
Caudill, and several members of his hand-picked team.
Dewey didn’t waste
time. He’d worked around Lee long enough to accept the brunet’s
terse reason for calling. He did send Chip a quick grin when the
blond added his two cents about the redhead but even Chip was ready to admit he
was probably way off base – and then sent Lee a sheepish grin when he said that
out loud and Lee glared at the awful but unintended pun. Dewey did
recommend that Lee and Chip head over to NIMR and wait in the Admin Building
for further information. Lee hesitated but Chip reminded him that
they needed to advise Angie of what was going on, and doing it in person was
preferable to using the phone. Nelson’s PA was NIMR’s acknowledged
Head in Nelson’s absence, so keeping current intel to
a minimum of personnel would be much easier with her assistance.
At least, once she
calmed down. That took a few moments, thankfully behind Nelson’s
closed office doors. A few muttered epithets, a few deep breaths,
and she pulled herself together, put on her best ‘game’ face, and went back to
her own desk ready to maintain all defenses needed to handle the present
emergency. Lee and Chip stayed in Nelson’s office awaiting Dewey’s
report before making further plans.
Apparently, Angie’s
first order of business was to ask Dr. Jamison to come over from Med Bay
because Chip was just trying to figure out how to get Lee to quit pacing and
rest his ankle when the office door blew open and Will glared at
Lee. Lee glared right back. Chip stayed
quiet! But ‘something’ passed silently between the two strong-willed
men and Lee dropped into the nearest chair. His body was still stiff
with anger. And worry. Will was perfectly aware of
that. But he’d learned early on that, in any situation where one of
Lee’s crew was in danger, Lee’s very last thought was for his
own health. And this wasn’t just a crewman; this was Admiral Nelson,
Lee’s boss, mentor, friend, and father-figure!
“Thank you,” Will told
the younger man softly as he also settled into a chair. “What do we
know?”
“Nothing,” came out in
as vicious a growl as Will had ever heard come out of Lee’s
mouth. Thankfully Chip took over and related what little facts there
were. Like Chip Will challenged, albeit carefully, Lee’s assumption.
“Have you ever been
unable to distinguish an ‘e’ from an ‘o’ in anything the Admiral
wrote?” Lee’s glare was back. Will was forced to shake
his head. “We won’t even mention that he’d never have just up and
left with nothing more than a note.” Chip joined Will in agreeing
with that one. “He was forced to write that note,” was Lee’s
conclusion, “and watched closely so that was the only way he had of letting us
know that it was a lie and he was in trouble.”
The door opened once
more and Angie took a step in. “Dewey’s on line one.” She
stayed in the partially opened doorway; from there she could keep an eye on her
reception area and still hear what was happening. Lee had launched himself
from the chair and hit the speaker button so they could all hear the Security
Chief’s report.
“Weird, sir,” he
started, his voice steady. One of the things that made the man so
good at his job was his ability to remain calm and objective no matter what
chaos was happening around him. “Mrs. Garcia,” he referred to
Nelson’s housekeeper, “arrived just after you left. The Admiral had
called her yesterday to say that he was fixing breakfast for your meeting so
she didn’t need to come in until later.” Dewey chuckled
softly. “She said she’d ignored him because it would take her twice
as long to clean up the mess he’d leave in the kitchen.” That got a
snort out of both Angie and Will. Chip smiled but Lee just continued
to stare at the phone. “Checked with the front gate and the Admiral
didn’t leave that way, but his access code was used at the back gate just after
0130. We found his car in the parking lot at the bus station…”
“No way,” Lee cut him
off.
“Absolutely,” Dewey
agreed. “That’s where it gets weird. No prints in the
car, not even the Admiral’s.”
“Wiped,” was Lee’s
conclusion.
“Yes,
sir. His prints at home, of course, but not in several places where
I’d expect to find them.
“Damn,” came out softly
before Lee almost yelled, “How the blazes did anyone get on base?”
“Working on that, sir,”
Dewey continued. Even as under control as he was there was a note of
anger evident to those listening.
“What can I do?” was
Lee’s next demand.
“Right now, nothing that
isn’t already being handled, sir.” It was said with respect; Dewey
wasn’t unaware of Lee’s temper.
Lee let out a huff, but
nodded slightly. “Understood, Dewey. Ah, we keep this
in-house as much as we can, with as few people involved as possible.”
“Agreed,
sir. I’ll keep you posted.” The connection was broken
before Lee could reply and he briefly glared at the phone. The only
sound for several moments was the door closing as Angie went back to her desk.
“I’ll make coffee,” was
Will’s solution and he got up and walked over to the side table. Normally
Angie would have started a pot as soon as she got in but with the scheduled
meeting at Nelson’s house that morning she hadn’t done it
yet. Behind him he heard Chip say softly, “Lee, sit
down.” Will heard a grunt and a growl but when he finally turned Lee
was once more sitting down. Will didn’t, however, hold out much hope
for the chair arm the way Lee’s fist was steadily beating out a heavy tattoo on
it. Will sent a frown at the starting-to-fill coffee
pot. Caffeine definitely wasn’t what Lee needed right
now. The thought of what he’d say if Will suggested warm milk forced
a snicker to escape and Will found himself the target of two pairs of blazing
eyes. “What did that chair arm ever do to tick you off, Skipper?” he
said to defuse the moment. Chip grinned, although it was mostly
grimace. Lee continued to glare at him but his fist stilled.
* * * *
Nelson’s temper was even
more evident than his captain’s but he was less able to express it. Bound,
gagged, and blindfolded, hearing and smell were the only senses available at
the moment and they weren’t being of much help.
Nothing had seemed out
of the norm as he’d entered his house. He’d left his car in the
drive; the weather was nice so no need to put it in the garage, and there was
still plenty of room for Lee and Chip to park the next
morning. Unlocking the front door with no more thoughts than having
a quick nightcap before heading to bed, he’d only taken one step inside before
a blinding beam of light hit his face and a small hard object pushed against
his spine just below his shoulder blades.
“Don’t be stupid,
Admiral,” came from behind the light. Two of them, at least, Nelson
told himself and stood absolutely still. The hard object pushed him
forward another step and the door was closed, the lock clicking into
place. The beam disappeared into Nelson’s livingroom
followed by what Nelson knew to be a floor lamp next to his favorite chair
coming on. Another punch from the object, what Nelson assumed was a
gun barrel, headed him forward and he carefully walked into the light.
“So nice to see you
again, Admiral.” A bit over six feet, sandy hair, brown eyes,
slender build, Nelson didn’t think he’d ever seen the man
before. Apparently his uncertainty showed because the man gave him a
quick nod. “To be fair we only met once, just after you hired my
brother.”
“Bishop,” Nelson dredged
up the memory of Seaview’s original Second Officer. “I don’t
remember your first name.” The man merely shrugged, apparently
choosing not to answer. “Does he know you’re here?” Nelson tried
again.
“Mister ‘By The Book’?” the man practically spat
out. “Hardly. You canned him for doing his job and he
still thinks the sun rises and sets on you.”
“He wasn’t fired,”
Nelson told him honestly. “He chose to go back to the regular
Navy. Easier for him to earn promotions than staying in the Reserves
on Seaview.”
“Humph,” the man
muttered, dismissing the explanation.
Nelson very carefully
didn’t smile. In actual fact Chip had started muttering about Lt.
Allen Bishop almost the instant Seaview sailed on her shakedown
cruise. Quietly, for sure, but both Nelson and John Phillips,
Seaview’s first captain, were not unaware of their XO’s
opinions. They, however, found no fault with the man’s overall
service so nothing was done. That changed when Lee took command
after Phillips’ untimely death. At the time Nelson hadn’t understood
Lee’s instant adverse reaction to the Second Officer although Bishop’s leadership
style was totally different from Lee’s more laid-back manner, relaxed but still
expecting competence from his crew. He found out, muchlater,
that Chip had complained about the no-nonsense lieutenant in letters to his
former Annapolis roommate, and Lee wasted little time starting a
campaign to get rid of him. Absolutely nothing overt, that wasn’t
Lee’s style with an otherwise capable officer. He simply made casual
mention of openings on other ships and subs, and offhand comments of promotions
being more difficult in the Reserves, where all Seaview’s officers served,
instead of the regular Navy. Sometimes the comments weren’t even
directed at Bishop but they were always said where the lieutenant could
hear. Barely three months later Bishop
requested a transfer, and Lt. Chris James was hired. “What do you
want?” Nelson decided to be blunt.
“Right to the point,”
was said with half a smile and the man sat down in Nelson’s
chair. “That’s one of the things my brother admires so much, your
ability to get things done with a snap of your fingers.” He
demonstrated with his own.
“Hardly,” Nelson
disagreed. “Hard work accomplished what I’ve put
together.” He decided to see if he could needle away some of the
man’s arrogance. “If your brother so admired the trait it’s too bad
he didn’t emulate it more. He always took the easy route, making
others do as much of his work as possible.”
The tactic backfired;
Bishop laughed out loud. “Which got him in trouble more than once,”
he said, smiling broadly. Almost instantly the smile died. “He
was always an idiot,” came out harshly.
“So, what are you doing
here?” Nelson tried again.
“My brother does have
one redeeming trait. Well, at least for me. He whines too
much.”
Nelson sent him a
puzzled look. “That’s a good thing?”
Bishop grinned broadly
but Nelson easily saw meanness in his eyes. “For me,
absolutely. The only time I ever heard him badmouth you was when he
complained about all the money you have stashed away, and never gave anyone a
raise.”
Nelson snorted
derisively. “He never got a raise because his starting salary was
nearly double what the Navy paid for his position,” he growled. “We
won’t even discuss how much it takes to keep Seaview seaworthy. And
then there’s everyone else at NIMR. Every penny has to be accounted for.”
“Well, ‘every penny’ is
what it’s going to take for you to see your precious Seaview again.”
“Ransom,” Nelson
growled.
Bishop
shrugged. “Eventually,” he told Nelson casually. “I’m
working on several options, actually.” He waved a hand toward
Nelson’s writing desk in the corner. “In the meantime,” he stood,
“you’re going to leave a little note for Capt. Crane. My brother’s
whining included the fact of ONI connections and we don’t want him too upset by
your absence, now, do we?” His grin was positively
evil. “So you’re going to leave him a message that you’re out of
town for a few days visiting a friend…”
“He’ll never believe
that,” Nelson told him flatly. “Things around here don’t work like
that.”
“Oh, but this time they
will. I made very sure that he and his sidekick saw you with a very
attractive woman last week…”
“All she wanted was an
interview, which I rarely give. She was disgustingly brazen with her
attempt.”
“Ah, but that’s exactly
what your men saw, Admiral. I must admit that Crane pretended not to
notice but Morton got an eye full. As Blythe intended,” he added
with a wink before once more gesturing toward the desk. “And please
don’t waste time trying to sneak any kind of code into your
note. You will write exactly what I dictate.” The last
was punctuated by another jab from the gun in his back.
Nelson’s mind raced as
Bishop told him what to write, wondering how the man had known about the next morning’s – well, now this morning’s –
meeting. He heard his briefcase being opened, and turned in that
direction to find not one but two men dressed in dark clothing watching him
intently, guns leveled at him, while a third busied himself going through the
papers and folders in the briefcase. “You,” came out in almost a
whisper.
“You still don’t pay
some of your employees nearly well enough to assure their loyalty,” Bishop
sneered. The twenty-something man sent Nelson a smirky
grin as he started to hand Bishop the folder that contained the notes for
Nelson’s meeting with Lee and Chip. Bishop had him lay the folder on
the desk, and Nelson noticed that he was wearing thin latex gloves before
Bishop waved him away. As he disappeared Bishop started dictating
exactly what Nelson was to write, and watched too carefully for Nelson to do
anything other than what he was specifically told. His expression
stayed stony with rage as he signed the note, and Bishop told him to lay it on
top of the folder. Before he could say anything, however, he felt a
pinprick on the back of his neck and everything started to go dark.
His next moment of
awareness was in discovering that he wasn’t very aware at
all. Slowly his brain started registering details: his eyes were
covered, he was gagged, and his hands were secured behind his back. His
legs moved, but there was a clanking noise accompanying that discovery and he
stopped. At least he was relatively comfortable, laying on his side
on something reasonably soft. There was subtle movement of some
sort. Surface vessel, his brain translated. Docked,
not under power, rocking slightly to the movement of small waves, perhaps other
boats moving past. A marina,he settled on.
“Ah, you’re awake,”
followed the opening of a door, and the blindfold was removed. After
blinking several times to clear his vision Nelson took stock of his
situation. He was indeed in what looked to be a boat cabin but it
was completely bare of everything except the thin mattress he found he was
laying on. A porthole was covered with something black on the
outside. He struggled to sit up and discovered that he’d been
stripped and redressed in nothing except a jumpsuit, and his right ankle was
shackled to a sturdy chain attached to the bulkhead next to the
mattress. He glared at Bishop, who merely smiled. “I
realize these aren’t the kind of accommodations you are no doubt accustomed
to,” he told Nelson with a smirk, “but you will just have to make
do. Once we are out to sea your hands will be released and you can
remove the gag. That chain will let you reach the head,” he gestured
to a small sliding door next to where the chain was attached, “but that’s
all.” Nelson eyeballed the chain’s length anyway. “Trust
me, Admiral,” Bishop continued, “this room has been prepared by an
expert. You are quite secure. And while there are,
perhaps, a few ways you could hurt yourself, I believe we both know that you
are far too intelligent to do something that stupid and
cowardly. The chain is welded to the bulkhead as well as to your
ankle. The porthole is also welded shut, and painted over on the
outside. Even if you could reach it, which you can’t, it would do
you no good since there’s nothing in here you could use to break the thick,
bullet-resistant, glass. You might just as well relax and make the
best of your stay. I haven’t yet decided how long that will be,” he
told Nelson with a shrug and turned and left. Nelson heard what
sounded like a secure lock being engaged.
As Nelson heard powerful
inboard motors engage and the boat start to move he ungracefully stood up,
balance thrown off by his tied hands, and took stock of his
situation. As Bishop had said there seemed no way for him to escape
his current predicament. The chain barely allowed him to access the
head but kept him several feet from both the porthole and the door, which from
the quick glance Nelson got as Bishop left lead to an internal companionway on
the boat. He wiggled his hands but they were held in what felt like
handcuffs, not tied with rope. There wasn’t even anything Nelson
could rub against to try and remove the gag. With an angry glare at
the door, Nelson settled back onto the mattress as the boat gained speed.
* * * *
Will was trying to
figure out what he could say to try and defuse the explosion making steady
progress across Lee’s face when Nelson’s office door opened and Angie walked
in, this time followed by Dewey Caudill. Both Lee and Chip bolted
out of their chairs but Dewey held up a hand. “Nothing to report,
sirs,” he addressed Lee but his eyes swept over Chip and Will
also. “We brought the Admiral’s car back and went over it more
carefully than we did when we found it. Well,” he amended, “we
reported it stolen and the police spotted it and called.” Lee
nodded, almost afraid to open his mouth until he had himself a little more
under control. “It was locked; Davey opened it with a slim-jim and the keys and this,” he held up a cellphone, “were
in the center console.”
“That’s the Admiral’s
phone,” Angie, standing next to him but still keeping an eye on the reception
area through the open door, told him. “At least, it looks just like
it.”
“One way to find out,”
Chip said as he walked forward. “It’s been printed, I assume,” he
asked Dewey.
“Wiped clean,” the
Security Chief told him as he handed it over. Chip started punching
buttons, Lee standing next to him watching intently as the blond checked the
call logs.
A noise disturbed them
and Angie frowned. “Just Gray with the mail,” she muttered softly
and headed to her desk, firmly closing the office door behind her.
Finding nothing unusual
in the phone’s call logs, Chip switched to the texts and a few words came out
that the blond never used, in a tone that set the others on
high alert. Instantly he and Lee were joined by Will and Dewey.
Good
morning. Or afternoon or evening, depending on how long it has taken
you to find this. As I write, Admiral Nelson is in good
health. It remains to be seen how long he stays that
way. You can’t find him so don’t be so stupid as to waste time
trying. You would only force my hand if you got too close, and I’m
sure that you’d rather have him back in one
piece. Literally. Go about your normal business but have
ready access to the five million I know is sitting in a private NIMR
account. I’m sure that I don’t have to tell you, small bills,
unmarked, no cops, etc. You will be contacted.
“Smart, using the
Admiral’s own phone,” Dewey offered carefully, “typing in the text but then let
it sit there waiting to be found.” He took a small step back from
his CO and XO, not liking at all the expressions on their
faces. Chip apparently caught the movement and sent him a quick
nod. Lee took several steps away and turned his back, fists
clenched. “What account?” Dewey asked Chip. “I thought
everything was tied up through Accounting.”
Chip glanced at Lee
before answering. “I wonder how this guy knows about
it. Very few people do.” He sent another quick look at
Lee, who hadn’t moved. “It requires at least two of the three signators to approve a withdrawal.”
“May I ask who those
three people are?” Dewey asked.
Before Chip could
answer, Lee turned around. “Myself.” His voice was
surprisingly soft for the anger still evident on his face. “The
Admiral, of course, and his personal attorney, Andrew Halliburton.”
“Never heard that name,”
Dewey told him.
“No reason you should,”
Chip answered. “He’s not associated with NIMR. The
Admiral uses him only for his private affairs.”
“No, Dewey,” Lee looked
directly at the man. “I know what you’re about to ask but Mr.
Halliburton is totally above reproach. The Admiral went to school
with him; trusts him implicitly.” He half-smiled. “I met
him when the Admiral had the signature card changed from John Phillips to
me. I could tell, there’s no way he would ever betray the Admiral’s
trust.”
“Somebody in his
office?” Dewey hypothesized. Both Lee and Chip could only
shrug. “I know a guy. I’ll have him make some quiet
inquiries.” That got a quick smile from Chip and a nod from
Lee. Dewey ‘knew someone’ everywhere, it seemed, and was never at a
loss for getting things done. He returned Lee’s nod and headed for
the door.
“Thanks,” Lee got out.
“Now what?” Chip asked
once the door was again shut.
“You,” Will pointed to
Lee, “sit down and get your weight off of that ankle.”
Lee sucked in a large
breath and let it out slowly before responding to either of
them. “Jamie, right now that’s the least of my worries,” he said
openly and honestly.
Will responded in
kind. “I can respect that. But you need to take care of
yourself at least as much as you can to be able to handle everything else that
comes up.”
Lee sent him a nod
before turning to Chip. “We need to keep this as quiet as
possible.” Chip nodded his agreement. “We give out the
story that the Admiral is out of town.”
“No one will question
that,” Chip told him. “Angie can cover NIMR business like she always
does.”
“We stick to normal
routines,” Lee told him. “Well, you do, anyway.”
“Lee…” Chip started to
warn, but Lee raised a hand.
“So will I,” he told the blond. “But I’d also better talk
to Mr. Halliburton. We have no way of knowing when we’ll be
contacted.”
“The message,” Will
postulated, “sounded like the guy couldn’t be sure when it would be found.”
“Assuming it is a guy,”
Chip added. “There’s still that redhead…”
“What redhead?” Will
demanded.
“Later,” Lee waved off
the question. “So, that gives us, hopefully, a day or two for Dewey
and his people to come up with some leads to who we’re dealing with.” He
looked at Chip. “You got a better look at the woman than I
did. I really didn’t think the Admiral looked all that happy to see
her.”
“Now that you mention
it…” His voice turned slightly sheepish. “I was paying
more attention to her than to him.” That got a soft snort out of
Lee. “I’ll go tell Dewey,” and he headed out as well.
“Skipper?” Will tried
again.
“Jamie, I’ll do what I
can,” he told the doctor firmly.
“You always do,” Will
responded, a soft smile lending what encouragement he could to the distraught
younger man. Nelson was far more than just a boss to Lee, something
Will was very aware of. He would do everything he could to support
Lee through whatever the next days brought.
* * * *
Nelson had no idea how
much time had passed, but he thought at least two hours from the time Bishop
had left. This time when the door opened Bishop wasn’t alone; one of
the men from last night – well, he thought last night; he had no idea how long
he’d actually been unconscious – entered also, again gun in
hand. “Stand up,” Bishop ordered, “and walk backwards to me as far
as you can.” Once the chain was tight Nelson felt Bishop release the handcuffs and he turned around as he got rid of
the gag. He merely stood there glaring at the man, however, not giving
him the satisfaction of displaying any emotion other than defiance.
Bishop seemed amused if
the smile he sent Nelson was an example, now standing well out of
range. He took the gun and the other man disappeared into the
hallway, to return moments later with a cardboard tray on which were several
sandwiches and two bottles of water. He put the tray on the floor
and carefully pushed it to within Nelson’s reach before taking back the
gun. Bishop said nothing more before both men left, and Nelson again
heard the lock click. He wondered why since there seemed no way for
him to reach that far. He had spent time examining his prison but
was forced to admit that Bishop might be right; there didn’t seem to be any way
for Nelson to escape.
Now that the gag was
gone he felt much better, however. One bottle of water went down in
one long draught once he’d determined that it was still sealed and therefore
probably not tampered with. A careful examination of the sandwiches
didn’t show anything suspicious either so two of them followed the
water. This was, unfortunately, not the first time he’d been held
captive and he knew to take what nourishment and rest that he could when it was
offered. There was no telling when, or if, more would be supplied.
The rocking of the boat
had steadily gotten worse. Not stormy, Nelson decided, but
definitely open ocean. It seemed useless, however, in his present
predicament to worry about where the boat was or where it was
going. He ate the last sandwich and laid down on the mattress to get
what rest he could.
* * * *
Lee wasn’t sure how he
made it through the next few hours. He nearly bit Chief Sharkey’s
head off at one point that afternoon when Seaview’s COB showed up in his office
all but demanding to know where Admiral Nelson was. Apparently
Nelson had a meeting scheduled to go over some details about a refit of some
sort. The meeting hadn’t been on either Nelson’s calendar or
Angie’s. That was the first thing Lee had done after Jamie went back
to Med Bay: spend half an hour with Angie making sure that she was comfortable
handling or cancelling half a dozen meetings Nelson had scheduled over the next
several days. Normally the COB would have been one of the first
people to be enlisted in any kind of investigation but his demanding manner had
instantly ignited Lee’s barely under control temper. Lee was just
gearing up to tell Sharkey precisely where he could shove his meeting when Chip
appeared. Lee figured that Angie had alerted the blond the instant
she’d told Sharkey that Nelson was out of town and saw him head for Lee’s
office.
“Chief Sharkey,” came
out in Chip’s best XO voice. Sharkey didn’t actually quail but he
definitely faced his XO with more respect than he’d just given
Lee. And Lee was the first one to admit that was his own
fault. Lee’s laid-back command style allowed for the ease with which
the two men treated each other, knowing that both were totally devoted to
Nelson. Not that Chip wasn’t, but as XO his was the role of
disciplinarian to the crew and the man Sharkey reported to about boat’s
business. On top of which, Sharkey tended to get on Chip’s nerves at
times anyway so the blond took those opportunities he could to put the man in
his place. “Neither the Skipper or myself was aware that the Admiral
has to advise you of his personal life choices before he’s allowed to leave
NIMR grounds.”
“I only meant…”
“Is there a part of your
job that you need either the Skipper or myself to show you how it’s done?”
That straightened
Sharkey up. “No, sir,” came out firmly.
“Then I suggest you
do your job and let us do ours.” He stepped to one
side and thankfully Sharkey took the hint and left.
“That was fun,” Chip
told Lee with a smirk. It finally broke Lee’s anger and he snorted
softly. “Actually, I’m kind of glad that happened.”
“Excuse
me?” Lee sent the blond a glare.
“Within ten minutes we
won’t have any more questions from NIMR employees about the Admiral’s absence.”
Lee nodded and settled
back into his chair. And then launched out of it again, focused behind
Chip, who turned and found Dewey Caudill approaching. Chip waited
until Dewey was through the door, then closed it and followed him the few steps
to Lee’s desk.
“We may have caught a
break,” the Security Chief started, then raised a quick hand. “A small
one,” he stopped whatever Lee was about to say.
“I’ll take anything,”
was obviously an amendment from what Lee had started to say.
Dewey sent him a
nod. “Internal security cameras were pretty much a
bust. On the plus side I now know how we need to redesign the
system.” He sent both Lee and Chip an apologetic look.
“No recriminations,” Lee
told him. “We all thought it was foolproof.”
“And ‘fool’ may be the
operative word,” Dewey told him. “Whoever got in,” he hesitated and
sent an almost nervous look at the other two, “had inside help.” He
paused again as Lee glared. Dewey didn’t even attempt a look at
Chip. But when Lee didn’t say anything he
continued. “They had to have known the position of all the cameras;
they too consistently bypassed them, or in several instances we caught a hand
holding up a can – turned out to be hairspray – which
blurred the lens…”
“And no one caught it
while it was happening?” Chip’s voice was even harder than the one
he’d used on Sharkey.
“That’s the ‘fool’
part,” Dewey did turn toward Chip, and wished he hadn’t after seeing the blond’s expression. “Yesterday was Kieran
Carlyle’s birthday. He and Mike Dorset had the 2200 to 0600 hours
shift, and Kieran came in early with leftover cake from the special dinner his
wife had fixed.”
“Who had the 1400 to
2200 shift?” Lee’s voice was only slightly less harsh than Chip’s.
“Mitch Harris and Sherry
Davies.” Lee nodded; he knew all four Security personnel
well. “Nobody screwed up,” Dewey assured him.
“But,” Chip demanded
more.
“But,” Dewey agreed with
a sigh. “There was an issue. Sherry only had a bite of
the cake. Her perpetual diet.” The other two
nodded. “And Mike is diabetic but he fudged and had about half a
very small slice. Kieran didn’t have any; he was full from dinner so
Mitch ended up finishing off most of what was left.” He paused
again. “And ended up in Med Bay about 2330 sick as a dog.”
“The
others?” Lee sat forward.
“Queasy but
okay. Kieran and his wife are fine. Because it was his
dad’s birthday, Gray had dinner with his parents and he’s fine.”
Chip
nodded. “He seemed fine distributing the mail this morning.”
“I talked to Sherry and
Mike. They both say they felt just a bit nauseous but nothing
serious.”
“Obviously the cake. But
Kieran?” Lee’s voice echoed the disbelief on his
face. “He and his family have been here nearly as long as NIMR’s
been in existence.”
“Actually, I was
thinking Gray,” Dewey told him.
“Why?” it was Chip’s
turn to challenge.
“The kid’s a twerp,” came
out almost too low to be heard. “There’s just something about him
that has always rubbed me the wrong way,” came out a little
clearer. “And the kicker is his mother, Debbie, volunteered the intel that Gray took the leftover cake from dinner and put it
in his dad’s jeep; she was going to send it home with Gray. He has
his own apartment across town from the condos NIMR owns, where his parents
live.”
“He’s worked here long
enough,” Chip told the others, “that he’d have a pretty good idea how
everything works. Especially Security, with his dad’s job.”
“Where is he now?” Lee
asked.
“Being watched,” Dewey
assured both men. “Carefully,” he added, “and quietly. Could
be nothing.”
“But,” Lee and Chip said
at the same time.
“Exactly,” Dewey told
them. “Know a guy,” and both Lee and Chip sent him half a grin,
“who’s checking into the kid’s finances.” Lee raised an
eyebrow. Dewey shrugged with a half-grin of his own and Lee shook
his head. Chip backhanded Dewey’s shoulder lightly. “I’ll
know more later today.”
“I really appreciate
your hard work,” Lee told him.
“I have a good team,”
Dewey countered.
“And an interesting
circle of friends,” Chip chided.
“That, too,” Dewey
agreed with a quick smile, and he left. Lee and Chip shared a look
and a long sigh, and Chip headed back to his office. Lee tried to
concentrate on what work he needed to do but it wasn’t easy.
It got worse several
hours later, when Dewey called with the news that Gray Carlyle’s body had just
been found behind a storage shed at one of the area’s marinas.
“I thought you were
having him watched,” Lee all but yelled before a softer, “sorry, Dewey, please
continue,” came out.
“It was his tail who
found him,” Dewey told him. “Or one of them,
actually. Had a couple guys not NIMR employees watching him once he
left the grounds about 1500 hours. Ah, that’s only a little earlier
than normal for him. Once he’s done delivering mail he usually leaves.”
“Go on,” Lee encouraged
in a more normal tone.
“Gray headed for a bar
close to the marina where he met a couple friends, had a beer, made a couple
cellphone calls and got at least one back, then slipped out the back door.”
“Damn,” Lee mumbled
softly.
“Yeah,” Dewey
agreed. “Elias only lost him for about five minutes but that turned
out to be too long. Knifed twice. Expertly. At
least it was over quickly.”
“I’d rather have had him
alive.”
“Me,
too, Skipper. Sorry.”
“No way to predict,
Dewey. What now?”
“The killer took Gray’s
cellphone. At least, it wasn’t on the body. The police
are talking to his buddies but I don’t think they have a clue what Gray was up
to. Just a couple of his old high school friends. The
police can get his call history legally…” There was a short pause,
“but I can get it faster,” was added very softly.
“Far be it for me to
tell you how to do your job, Dewey. I gather no one saw the killer.”
“Too many back alleys,
nooks and crannies back there. The police are bringing in a search
dog. Oh, they wanted to know why we were following
Gray. I told them there were some discrepancies within our mail
department and we were merely checking several leads. I’m just
headed to meet one of the detectives at Kieran and Debbie’s place. I’ll
keep it as under control as I can. No mention of the Admiral, and
try to convince the Carlyle’s that Gray wasn’t really suspected of anything
wrong, just we were keeping an eye on everyone who had access, etc.”
“Perfect. Let
me know if there’s any way I can help.”
“You bet, Skipper,” and
Dewey broke the connection. Lee called Chip.
* * * *
Nelson heard the lock
click and was starting to sit up as Bishop opened the door. He was
alone, but before he could say anything the man Nelson had seen come in with
him earlier scurried up and whispered something in Bishop’s
ear. “That damned fool,” Bishop started to yell, looked at Nelson,
and turned and left, the lock once more clicking. Humm, Nelson almost smiled, something
not going as planned? He laid back down, the smile now evident,
wondering what the ‘monkey wrench’ in Bishop’s plans had been and how it might
become an advantage to him.
* * * *
At 2000 hours Lee was
still in his office, Chip there as well. None of NIMR’s employees
thought it unusual; both men were known to put in long hours. What
wasn’t exactly normal was Will showing up half an hour earlier with a covered
plate that turned out to be half a dozen thick turkey
sandwiches. Will admitted that he’d told his wife what was going on
and both knew the two younger men would be far too involved with details to
take care of themselves properly. Or, as Will admitted when he set
the plate down on Lee’s desk, as properly as Lu-Tsi
thought they should. Lee frowned but Chip admitted that he’d been
too angry and nervous to eat much at lunch and Lee was forced to admit that he
hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, expecting to have breakfast with
Chip at the Admiral’s. Will didn’t push but, as Chip polished off
his first sandwich and reached for a second, Lee finally relented and grabbed
one as well.
Thankfully he had
finished one whole one and half of another when Dewey knocked on the open
doorframe. Lee must have read something in the man’s expression
because he instantly dropped the rest of the sandwich and leaned
forward. “You’ve got something.” It wasn’t a question.
“Maybe, Skipper,” Dewey
stepped up to the desk. Will saw him eying the remaining sandwiches
and pushed the plate in his direction. “Thanks,” the Security Head
said gratefully and took a large bite. Lee frowned at the slight delay but
under the circumstances said nothing. “Had a bit of a brainstorm,”
Dewey continued between bites. “Asked Mr. Baxtrum,
the Harbormaster at the Santa Barbara marina, if he knew of any boats that had
left after midnight last night and not returned.”
“Should have thought of
that,” Chip growled.
“So should have I,”
Dewey admitted softly, “and a lot sooner.”
“No matter now,” Lee
waved off both men’s comments before once more focusing on Dewey.
“An almost new 145-foot
Fraser Mag III yacht pulled in two days ago to the Essex
Marina. That’s where Gray was killed,” he added somewhat
unnecessarily, but both Lee and Chip nodded. Will listened closely
but didn’t interrupt. “It was just being delivered here; a whole new
crew took over as soon as it arrived. Baxtrum
said he was surprised that the crew used the small marina for such a large new
yacht but since it wasn’t any of his business…” Again Lee and Chip
nodded. They both knew Baxtrum fairly well.
“What about the Essex
Harbormaster?” Lee asked. “I don’t think I’ve met him.”
“Her,” Dewey
corrected. “She’d make Ma Barker and Belle Starr,” he muttered the
names of two old west female criminals, “look like angels.” That got
snorts from the others. “Not that she really does anything
illegal. Well, not that she’s been caught. But she
definitely looks the other direction, according to the police.”
“Remind me to steer
clear of the place,” it was Will’s turn to mutter.
“So she’s saying
nothing,” Chip grumbled.
“Bare facts
only. Most of what we – and the police – know is from people who
happened to see the yacht.” He smiled. “Something that
big and new gets noticed. But it left before Gray was killed so the
police aren’t interested in it.”
“Don’t suppose a
destination was listed when it pulled out,” Lee asked.
“Acapulco,” Dewey
answered, “but no one’s taking much stock in that to be the truth.”
“The yacht’s name?” was
Lee’s next question.
“Would you believe the
‘Miss Trust’?” That got a snort out of Will. The others
nodded.
“Know anybody at NASA,”
Lee asked offhand “who would do a satellite search of the California coastal
waters for the yacht? What’s the max speed for something like that?”
“About fifteen knots,”
Dewey supplied.
“It can’t have gotten
that far away but it’s big enough to be anywhere in open water.”
Dewey
grinned. “Know a guy,” he said, downed the last bite of his
sandwich, and left. Lee shook his head with a small smile.
“Think I’ll start a
quiet call-up of carefully selected crewmen,” Chip told no one in
particular. “We won’t need a full crew…” he looked at Lee.
“Heavy on the
‘battle-tested’.”
“Absolutely,” Chip
agreed, and he stood up. “Thank Lu-Tsi for
the food,” he told Will.
“I better be one of the
crew you call,” Will warned him. Chip nodded and headed out.
“Thanks, Jamie,” Lee
added. “For everything.” Will nodded and headed for Med
Bay. While Sick Bay aboard Seaview was always well-stocked he wanted
to make sure that he had even more supplies on hand. No telling what
chaos the immediate future would bring.
* * * *
Nelson was standing up
this time when he heard the lock click, having just come out of the
head. He wondered briefly if there was a camera hidden somewhere
that he’d so far failed to notice. If there was he could be pretty
sure that it would be beyond the reach of the chain.
On the plus side, his
captor was keeping him well-fed and hydrated. While he wished for
coffee, or something stronger, the bottled water was sufficient. The
food, while simple, was always something he could eat with his hands and served
on paper plates so no chance for him to make any kind of
weapon. Even the water bottles were made of plastic too soft to be
of any use. The ankle chain had indeed been welded on; he wouldn’t
be getting it off without help.
The door opened to
reveal Bishop, once more accompanied by the other man holding a
gun. This time, however, the second man stayed in the doorway as
Bishop entered, pulling on a pair of leather gloves. “Your captain
doesn’t seem to be overly concerned at your absence, Nelson,” he said casually.
“I assumed that’s why
you had me write that note,” Nelson countered.
Bishop
shrugged. “Yes and no,” he admitted. “But my ransom
demand has been delivered and Crane is still sitting on his hands, doing
nothing.”
“I rather doubt that.”
Bishop sent Nelson an
evil bit of grin. “Perhaps this is his chance. He doesn’t
want you back so he can take over. I understand the two of you often
disagree on how things should be done.”
Nelson laughed in the
man’s face. “You definitely know nothing about Cdr.
Crane.” He shrugged. “Although, if your information is
coming from your brother I can easily see where it would be totally
wrong.” He chuckled again.
And so fast that he
didn’t see it coming, Bishop stepped forward and landed two hard punches, one
to Nelson’s midsection and the other to the side of his head, before stepping
once more out of range. Nelson barely managed to stay
upright. “My brother’s an idiot,” he growled as Nelson struggled to
level out his breathing. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I am as
well.”
“Just an observation,”
Nelson managed to get out as he straightened back up.
“And what I am observing
is that Crane needs some incentive to understand that I mean what I
say.” With the other man keeping the gun pointed at Nelson, Bishop
proceeded to beat Nelson into unconsciousness.
* * * *
Chip managed to drag Lee
out of his office about 0300 hours but only so they could both go home for
showers and fresh clothes; they were back shortly before 0500. There
hadn’t been any word from Dewey, but considering there probably wouldn’t be
much use searching a dark ocean even if Dewey’s friend could get access that
quickly to satellite time neither were expecting to hear much so soon.
Lee spent most of the
morning in the Admiral’s office helping Angie field inquiries and deal with the
mail. Chip stopped in shortly before noon; he was hoping to coax Lee
down to the cafeteria for lunch but wasn’t surprised when Lee refused to go. Instead
he called his own secretary and asked her to deliver something up here – he
didn’t specify what as she was quite familiar with both men’s eating
habits. While they waited Chip filled Lee in on his morning.
Seaview was ready to go
at a moment’s notice. Chief Sharkey had been briefed; Chip had
refused to apologize for the previous day’s outburst but neither had the COB
brought it up now that he understood more of the reasons behind
it. No one took threats to their boss lightly and tempers could
easily flare. Chip had called in enough regular crewmen to easily
handle the submarine as long as they weren’t out too long, and supplemented
them with the help of Master-At-Arms Chief Hauck with trusted Security
personnel from other NIMR areas as well as Seaview’s normal contingency of
guards. Lt. Chris James, Seaview’s Second Officer and also her
Weapons Officer, had helped. He’d also casually spread the word that
because Seaview wasn’t scheduled out for another couple of weeks XO Morton was
working on some Emergency drills he’d been putting off because lately they’d
been too busy, so that covered a good deal of the extra activity.
At one point, as Chip
was mildly chiding Lee to finish his lunch instead of leaving half of it, Lee
sent the blond a glare. “How can you remain so calm?” he demanded.
“Three little sisters,”
he told Lee, “create drama like you can’t believe, even as many times as you’ve
been around them.” He touched his chest. “In here I’m a
basket case, but they were good XO training.” He chuckled
softly. “Hey, they were good for
something.” Lee snorted and threw a balled-up napkin at his friend,
but he did manage to eat the rest of his lunch.
As Chip was piling up
the now empty dishes Lee let out what was mostly sigh, but after so many years
of friendship Chip also heard worry and a touch of fear mixed in. He
stopped what he was doing and sent Lee a silent query. Lee nodded
and unconsciously rubbed his temple, a sure sign that all the tension had given
him a headache. But Chip remained silent, waiting for Lee to say
whatever he was currently thinking. “It can’t be that simple, can
it? A huge yacht nobody’s seen before shows up and the Admiral
disappears at the same time it does. Who’d be that…” he searched for
a word.
“Stupid?” Chip offered.
“Obviously open,” Lee
countered.
Chip
shrugged. “Maybe that’s the point; being so brazen leads to being
ignored.” Lee gave him half a nod. “Still needs to be
checked out as far as I’m concerned.”
A knock on the door
interrupted and Lee called out “Come in.” He bolted out of his chair
as Dewey appeared, but NIMR’s Security Head held up a hand.
“Sorry, sirs,” he
started. “Nothing to report so far. Gray’s cellphone
calls went either to known numbers or burn phones we can’t trace, and if he was
getting paid the money didn’t go into his regular accounts.” Both
Lee and Chip nodded with a sigh. “Matt’s…” he paused, “my buddy at
NASA,” he elaborated, “has had to work around a couple of the
bigwigs.” Lee and Chip both sent him half a grin. “But
Matt is one stubborn son-of-a-gun. Once he sinks his teeth into a
project he doesn’t give up easily.”
“Understood,” Lee told
him. “I kind of wish we could be more open about what’s going
on. Maybe get ONI involved.” He almost smiled as Chip
muttered something under his breath. “Yes, Chip,” he told his ticked
off friend. The blond had absolutely no use for the Office of Naval
Intelligence. “But I’m afraid of what might happen to the Admiral.”
“Yes,” and “Agreed,”
came from Dewey and Chip at the same time. Lee sent them both a nod,
more comfortable with his decisions knowing that they were thinking the same
thing. “You haven’t talked to the Admiral’s lawyer?” Chip
asked. “About the money,” he added, no matter that it was pretty
much a given he was referring to the demanded ransom.
Lee shook his
head. “Don’t want to do it over the phone so that means a trip to
LA, and I haven’t wanted to leave here.” The other two nodded their
agreement. “If I have to go I’ll use FS1.”
“She’s been
double-checked already,” Chip told him.
“Got a few people to
check with,” Dewey told them both. “Better get back to work.”
“Thanks for the update,
Dewey,” Lee said earnestly.
“Sorry it wasn’t better
news.”
“At least it wasn’t
worse,” Chip told him softly and got a quick nod before Dewey
left. “Chris and I have a couple mock drills planned,” Chip told
Lee. “Care to supervise?”
Lee shook his
head. “I’d probably do or say something to screw them up,” he
admitted.
“Not a chance,” Chip
grinned despite the tension. “I’d never let you live it down and you
know it.” Lee sent him a brief glare but nodded, and Chip left.
No one had a very good
afternoon, waiting for news that never came. Even word from the
kidnapper would have been better than nothing, Lee admitted when Chip
reappeared just before 1800 hours.
“Well, we’re not staying
here all night tonight,” Chip told him firmly. “One night, maybe, we
could get away with. But two in a row and the whole place will start
feeling that something’s not right. So far we’ve been fairly lucky
and kept things quiet, the blame for all the apparent tension blamed on Gray
Carlyle’s murder.” Lee nodded but looked anywhere but at the blond,
not willing to leave. “Come on, Lee,” Chip coaxed. “I don’t
want to, either, but we need to keep up appearances.”
“I
suppose.” He looked out Nelson’s big picture window toward the
ocean. “How’d the drills go?” he tried to switch subjects.
“I’ll tell you over beer
and pizza at BZ’s.” Lee sighed again, but finally admitted defeat at
the hands of his stubborn XO – and best friend – and the pair left.
* * * *
Nelson couldn’t remember
the last time he’d felt this bad. He had no idea how long that he’d
been unconscious; without watch or access to outside light he had no way to
count the passing hours. Or days, he realized. He didn’t
think it had been a terribly long time but the periods of drugged nothingness
coupled with the bits of normal sleep he’d managed, and now this unit of time
caused by the beating, were casting doubts on his ability to judge
correctly. There was no sink in his prison, only the toilet, so he
used one of his bottles of water to splash some on his face and check over the
rest of his body. Most of the damage seemed to be to his ribcage and
stomach area although one eye didn’t want to open completely and the area
around it was tender. His tongue told him there were a couple of
cuts on both lips – not surprising from what he could remember of the
systematic beating.
He did ponder the
reasoning behind the attack. Despite what might be outward
appearances of calm at NIMR, from Bishop’s comments Lee had to be aware Nelson
was in trouble even if Nelson’s subtle message in the note hadn’t been caught. That kid, Carlyle, he
growled to himself. Makes sense, he
admitted. No one pays attention to the mailman. Well,
that will change once I get back! He settled back down onto the
mattress to nurse his wounds and plot his revenge.
* * * *
Lee woke up about his
normal time of 0530 the next morning not totally sure how he’d managed to
actually sleep. Standing in his shower he wondered if Chip had
somehow plotted with Jamie to spike his food. But he and Chip had
shared both the large pizza and small pitcher of beer that held about a glass
and a half for each of them so he had to discount that theory. Probably
too much stress, he finally had to admit to himself as he shaved and
got dressed. He’d have liked to take his normal morning run; his
ankle was actually feeling a lot better. But not only could he hear
Jamie’s voice in his head yelling nonstop if the doctor found out, but he
didn’t want to waste any more time getting into the office to check for
news. He was perfectly aware that if there had been any developments
he would already have been notified. However…
As early as he was
parking in his spot next to NIMR’s Admin building, Chip pulled in right behind
him. And both were surprised that Angie was at her desk as they
passed, headed for their own offices. As Lee started to open his
mouth Angie sent him a glare. “Yes, I went home,” she told both
firmly and they wisely continued walking.
Lee was once more in
Nelson’s office, having dealt with the few things he needed to in his own, when
Angie came through the office door that he’d purposely left open. It
took only a glance at the PA’s white face and he was instantly on his
feet. Silently she held out a manila envelope. He looked
inside almost hesitantly and a few words slipped out that he almost never used
before he reached for his phone.
“I’ve already called
both Dewey and Chip to come over,” Angie told him softly before headed back to
her desk.
“Stay,” Lee
ordered. “Please,” came out more under control, and nodded to one of
the chairs. She sat, Lee tossed the envelope on the desk and poured
out a cup of coffee for her which she took with slightly shaky hands just as
Chip walked in, Dewey almost on his heels. Lee pointed to the
envelope and poured more coffee.
Chip used a few of the
same words Lee had, even more uncharacteristic for the usually stoic XO when he
looked inside. Dewey was silent as he pulled out the contents and
laid them on the desk, but nodded as Lee called Will to please come
over. They all remained silent for the most part until the doctor
marched through the door and Lee pointed toward the desk.
“Damn,” snuck not quite
silently out as Will studied the three pictures. One was a full body
shot, the other two were close-ups, of Admiral Nelson dressed only in a tan
jumpsuit, barefoot, laying on a thin mattress on an otherwise bare floor from
what could be seen. He had his eyes closed but no way to know
why. It was obvious, especially from the two closer shots, that he’d
been beaten, and quite savagely so from damage evident on his
face. No way to tell how bad the rest of his body
was. The only other skin showing was hands, which didn’t seem to be
damaged. His bare feet clearly showed the ankle manacle and chain,
with some redness where it was attached.
“Jamie?” Lee asked, his
voice barely under control.
“No way to know for
sure, Skipper,” Will told him carefully. “He’s for sure been
beaten. And the chain makes it clear he’s not free. But
here,” he pointed to one corner of the wide shot, “that’s a full water bottle
within easy reach.” He looked at Lee. “How did these
arrive?” Lee nodded toward Dewey, who had taken possession of the
envelope and now answered.
“Just about to work on
that.” He held up the envelope, which he was holding carefully by
one corner. “Don’t suppose anyone has a clear plastic cover I can
slip this into.” The men all smiled when Angie immediately stood,
walked over to one of Nelson’s filing cabinets, and pulled out exactly what
Dewey asked for. “Probably won’t find anything,” he
admitted. “They’ve been careful so far.”
“Where was it mailed
from?” Chip asked. “I didn’t look.”
“Doesn’t appear to have
been. No cancellation stamp, anyway.”
“We know it wasn’t Gray
Carlyle,” Lee said, his tone dark.
“Another
mole?” Chip’s voice was even darker.
“Like I said,” Dewey
tried to calm down the pair. Each had a reputation among NIMR
employees for having a temper; together they were positively not to
be challenged. “I’m on it.” He downed the rest of his
coffee in one gulp and headed out. Angie, too, headed back for her
desk, her color a little better but her expression not so much.
“Skipper?” Will asked
softly. Lee was staring at the three pictures, his body stiff with
rage and his hands fisted.
Lee didn’t move so Chip
took a shot. “Lee?”
“What?” came out in a
growl but Lee still didn’t budge.
Will and Chip shared a
quick look – mostly grimace – and Will continued. “The water tells
me…”
“The beating tells me
more,” Lee turned on Will with one of the most angry
expressions the doctor had ever seen. And that was saying a lot, all
things considered! But Lee took a deep breath and relaxed his
fists. Sort of. “I’m trying,” he told the doctor
softly. “I know that everything is being done that can be. But…”
Will nodded
encouragement. “I totally understand. Just try to save
that energy,” he pointed toward Lee’s not quite unclenched hands,” for when you
can actually do something about it.”
That got a soft snort
from both Lee and Chip, and Lee sent Will a quick look. “Working on
it,” he said softly.
Will nodded, frowned as
he took one last glance at the pictures, and left. Lee and Chip
heard him talking softly to Angie through the still open door.
“You know Dewey’s doing
everything he possibly can,” Chip gathered the pictures into one stack and
turned them face down.
“I feel so helpless,”
Lee muttered almost to himself.
“You can help me run
drills this afternoon.”
“I’d smack somebody,”
Lee told him, not without a touch of humor but still firmly.
Chip shrugged and
answered in kind. “Not necessarily a bad thing.”
“What did Rawn do now?” Seaview’s newest crewman could be
a pain on occasion, although he was getting better at fitting in.
Chip
chuckled. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Lee nodded but he
also relaxed a bit and sent his XO a small smile. Chip sent it back
and headed to whatever he was using to keep himself busy.
Whatever that was, he
showed up again just before 1200 hours and coaxed Lee down to the
cafeteria. Lee at first blew him off, but Chip pointed out that the
pair eating down there would show the rest of NIMR employees who weren’t aware
of what was going on that things were SOP. It wouldn’t stop rumors
from starting but it couldn’t hurt, either, and Lee finally agreed.
He was back in Admiral
Nelson’s office less than an hour later trying to concentrate on a report he
was supposed to have finished for his boss the day before but not having any
success. He’d barely eaten anything but, that not being totally
without precedent, Chip kept quiet. Now Lee stared at the pages in
front of him wishing Nelson was here to yell at him for being late
finishing. That thought went totally out the window as Dewey tapped
lightly on the open doorframe, several sheets of paper in his other
hand. Lee bolted out of the chair, such was his nervousness.
“News, Skipper,” Dewey
said unnecessarily as he walked over to the desk. “Matt finally
located the ‘Miss Trust,’ headed it looks like for Hawaii.”
“Not Acapulco,” came out
in a growl.
Dewey
shrugged. “Doesn’t necessarily mean anything. A yacht
that size can pretty much go wherever it wants to.”
“Who owns her?”
“Leased. Still
working on that.”
Lee nodded and glanced
at the pages. “What else?”
“No prints on the manila
envelope except those that should be there.”
“No surprise.”
Dewey shook his
head. “The delivery method is, however.” He instantly had
Lee’s full attention, and could have been intimidated by the
intensity. But he’d worked around Lee long enough to let it go as
the Skipper merely being ‘The Skipper.’ “Seems it just showed up
this morning in the mail room. No one thought much about it; things
are still a little disjointed with the news of Gray’s murder.”
“Cameras catch anyone
not normally there?”
“Yes and
no.” Lee glared at Dewey but he only shrugged. “Security
is a little disorganized, too, with Kieran on Leave and Mitch still
queasy. I’ve had to reassign some duties.”
“Who?” Lee demanded just
as Chip walked in. He assumed that Angie had called the blond as she
followed him in but stayed in the doorway.
“Mike Dorset,” Dewey
answered.
“He was involved in the
cake issue?” Chip asked and Dewey nodded.
“Couple of bites so not
really affected, and his excuse of Diabetes is on record.” Dewey
turned back to Lee. “The mail room wasn’t on his assignment last
night but the guys, with my okay,” he added quickly, “have been covering more
areas, and more frequently.”
Lee
nodded. “The cameras didn’t catch him carrying the envelope, I
assume, or you’d already be talking to him.”
“Correct. But
there’s no camera on the sorting table and he was out of any other camera range
for almost two minutes. I’ve started another list of where I want
cameras placed,” he grumbled softly and Lee and Chip nodded. “He
could have had it under his jacket.” Dewey frowned
again. “I’d hate to think bad of him, he’s
been a good, trusted, member of my team. But…”
“Where is he now?” Chip
asked.
“Off duty. I
have a guy he doesn’t know tracking him down and he’ll keep an eye on him, at
least for now.”
Lee’s hand snaked out
and his fist slammed the desk hard enough to rattle things in
drawers. “Save that for when it counts,” Chip advised.
Lee sent him a glare but
nodded as he shook out his hand a bit cautiously. “That yacht still
bothers me,” he told Dewey.
“Me, too,” Dewey
admitted. “Can’t say for sure why.”
“Same
here. You said it was leased?”
“The owner is some
holding company out of Nassau. I’m having a devil of a time tracking
down actual people.”
“I know that you’re
doing your best,” Lee told him.
“Just hope that it’s
enough,” came out somewhat miserably.
“Your friend Matt,” Chip
asked, “is still watching the yacht?”
Davey
nodded. “Off and on, now that he found it.”
“Good,” Lee told
him. “Just so he doesn’t do anything to get himself in trouble.”
Dewey sent Lee a quick
wink. “He’s too smart for that.” Both Lee and Chip smiled
and he left. Angie, too, went back to her desk.
Lee walked over to the
large windows. “That yacht,” he muttered softly, and then turned
back to face Chip. “I think it’s the arrogance. The
smugness in the text he left.” He shook his head.
“And maybe those
pictures coming before the actual demand for the money,” Chip
added.
Lee
nodded. “That, too.” He looked at them, still face down
on the corner of the desk, and his left hand made another fist. Or started
to before he grimaced and glared at his hand.
“Please tell me you
didn’t break it,” Chip said as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at
his friend.
Lee carefully clenched
and relaxed his hand several times. “Not yet. Saving that
for an as yet to be named face,” came out in a growl.
“I get equal time.”
“Only if there’s
anything left!” They both nodded.
* * * *
Nelson was trying hard
not to let his anger get the better of his judgment; too much of the former
destroyed the latter. He almost laughed at himself as he was not known
as a patient man. He could acknowledge that he was better than he
used to be, and easily point to the reason – Lee’s constant influence since the
younger man had taken over command of Seaview. Not that Lee never
got angry; there were too many examples of that! And while Chip
always seemed under control he was actually the one the crew never wanted to
tick off. Together Lee and Chip were formidable.
But only if they had a
target. Nelson was fairly sure from the boat’s movement that they
were in open ocean waters. But there was a lot of ocean, and no way
to know if Lee even had a clue where to start looking. Bishop had so
far proved quite competent – to Nelson’s great discomfort!
He hadn’t understood the
beating until about half an hour ago. While he was extremely sore
and heavily bruised, nothing seemed to have been broken. Then Bishop
had showed him the pictures, standing well out of reach of Nelson’s
tether. Nelson had been absolutely livid, much to Bishop’s obvious
delight, when Bishop told him he’d sent copies to Lee. Somehow
Nelson had been able to remain silent although his anger remained extremely
evident. Once Bishop left he’d sat on his mattress with his back to
the bulkhead plotting various methods of revenge before a thought flashed
through his brain and a very small smile touched his cracked and split
lips. Those pictures were meant to ensure Lee’s cooperation with the
ransom demand. But Nelson knew exactly what they would
do. Lee would be focused for sure on doing everything he could to
get Nelson back safely. But more than that, Lee would now be even
more focused on exacting revenge on the people who took him in the first
place. Nelson’s smile spread. Bishop apparently had no
idea of the forces he’d just unleashed and that thought sent a wonderfully warm
glow through Nelson’s psyche.
* * * *
As Lee paced Nelson’s
office about 1830 hours he glanced out the still open door and met Angie’s
frowning eyes. “Can’t sit still,” he admitted almost shyly.
“Gee, I wonder why,” she
retorted before her expression softened. “You’re going to need that
energy.”
“Too much coffee,” came
in Chip’s voice as he walked into view from the direction of his
office. But then he stopped and stared, and Dewey arrived from the
other direction, walking purposely. Lee bounded into the reception
area and they all met at Angie’s desk.
“Does the name Gregory
Bishop mean anything to you, sirs?” Dewey asked. Both Lee and Chip
puzzled for a bit but eventually shook their heads. Angie had
immediately started tapping computer keys and the men now looked toward her.
“Nothing in the files,”
she told them, “except of course Allen
Bishop.” The others nodded at mention of Seaview’s original Second
Officer. “No family member listed with the first name Gregory.”
“It’s a common enough
surname,” Chip added.
“Why?” Lee asked Dewey.
“That’s the best name I
can find attached to the yacht.” He shrugged. “And I’m
not totally sure of that. Just the best we’ve been able to come up with.” He
didn’t specify who ‘we’ were, and the others knew better than to
ask. Dewey definitely had his own methods for getting things
done. But no one cared because ultimately he got results without any
adverse publicity for NIMR. “And other than the name,” he continued,
“there’s nothing else. As you say it’s a common enough name so we’ve
been unable to pin it on a specific person. But we’re still
looking,” he added firmly.
“Anything on Dorset?”
Chip asked.
Dewey shook his
head. “Inconclusive,” he muttered. “I really would
love to get my hands on his cellphone records.”
“You mean you haven’t?”
Lee asked him almost teasingly.
“Working on it,” Dewey
admitted with a quick smile, returned by the others.
As if to punctuate that,
Dewey’s own cellphone chirped and he grabbed it out of its holder on his right
hip. “Dewey,” he said into it. Rarely did anyone at NIMR
use his last name. He listened without interruption to whatever the
person at the other end had to say, finally said, “Keep on it,” and ended the
call. “Interesting,” he told no one in particular.
“What!” Lee and Chip
both demanded at the same time.
“Dorset came on duty
last night at 2200 hours. Mitch was double-checking who was assigned
where and Sherry mentioned that she’d originally written herself in for here;
the Admin building.”
“Dorset switched with
her,” Chip translated.
Dewey
nodded. “Sherry didn’t care.” He smiled. “With
her constantly on a diet she was just as happy staying away from the
cafeteria.” Although staffed only minimally, someone kept at least
some food available for the night staff as well as anyone working overtime in
the labs.
“He’s due back on duty
tonight?” Lee’s turn to ask the Security Head.
“No. Tonight
and tomorrow are his days off.”
“Humm,”
Lee muttered softly.
“How ‘bout we kidnap
him,” Chip offered.
“Reading my mind,” Dewey
agreed.
“But if he’s in contact
with the kidnappers that could be dangerous for the Admiral,” Lee told
them. Both men reluctantly nodded. “On the other
hand…” Lee didn’t finish the thought.
“Spit it out, ju…” Chip started to call Lee ‘junior,’ the
nickname he’d given Lee at the Naval Academy, but stopped himself just in
time. Now was decidedly not the time for that kind
of flippancy.
Lee shook his
head. “We can’t risk doing anything that we don’t have complete
control of until we know for sure that it won’t get the Admiral
killed.” Everyone agreed with that conclusion.
“Dorset wasn’t on duty
when Gray was killed,” Chip said somewhat offhand. Dewey nodded as
Lee and Angie stared at him.
“He wouldn’t…” Angie
started before clapping a hand over her mouth, her eyes expressing shock.
“I don’t want to think
that about him,” Dewey told her.
“But he’s a trained
security guard,” Chip added.
“Went through the police
academy in LA before taking the job here,” Dewey said almost
apologetically. “Came with good references.”
“Nothing to beat
yourself up over,” Lee told him. “He passed all of his clearances. No
one noticed anything or they’d have told you.”
“I sure hope so,” Dewey
said with a hard look.
“Not a doubt,” Chip
confirmed.
Dewey’s cellphone
chirped again, and again he listened without saying more than half a dozen
words. As he re-clipped the phone a decidedly pleased expression
came over his face. “Give,” Lee ordered.
“Apparently Drayden,” again he didn’t specify who that was, and again
no one challenged him, “has way too much time on his hands.” Lee
waited semi-patiently for the man to continue. Chip crossed his arms
over his chest and glared. “Our Lt. Bishop has a
half-brother. Well,” he amended, “several, actually.”
“Not in his
file,” Angie started.
“Which if found while he
was employed here would have gotten him fired instantly,” Chip added, “for
failure of full disclosure.”
Dewey held up a
hand. Carefully, to be sure, as the expressions on Lee and Chip’s
faces were dark and dangerous. “To his credit, he may not have
known.”
“Excuse me?” Lee
challenged.
“Apparently his father
‘got around’ as the saying goes.”
“According to his file,”
Angie’s turn to take a shot at calming down the two senior officers, “his
father passed away a couple of years before he entered Annapolis.”
Dewey
nodded. “And the brothers – well, half-brothers – weren’t known to
his mother. In fact, Drayden isn’t sure
Lt. Bishop knows even now. But there’s for sure at least two, and
one of them is named Gregory.”
“Get an exact fix on
that yacht,” Lee ordered.
“I’ll get Seaview ready
to sail,” Chip added. “Dewey…?” There was a definite
question in the one word.
“Chief Hauck has a good
team,” Dewey answered. “I still have a security breach here to sort
out.”
“If it is Dorset,” Chip
started, then hesitated.
“He needs to not be
aware that Seaview has left,” Lee finished.
“Already thought of
that,” Dewey told them with a nod.
“Get
him!” Angie wasn’t specific about who she meant – Nelson, the
kidnapper, or the mole. But all three men nodded and headed in
separate directions, intent on what needed to be done.
* * * *
Nelson’s hard-fought-for
patience was running thin. He hadn’t seen Bishop in many hours; no
way to tell time accurately but he was fairly sure that it had been most of a
whole day. The boat he was on hadn’t ever slowed down as far as he
could tell from the movement and the sounds from the engines. He
knew that it was a boat of fairly substantial length to have a cabin this size
on only one side. That’s what logic told him, anyway, because of the
companionway he caught glimpses of when the door was open. Some sort
of fairly good-sized yacht, he guessed. But while some yachts were
big enough to have a helipad Nelson hadn’t heard a chopper either coming or
going so he was puzzled why Bishop hadn’t made an appearance since he’d shown
Nelson the pictures of the beating he’d reportedly sent to Lee. Food
and water had continued to be provided by others, for which Nelson was
thankful. On the minus side he was ready to kill for some caffeine
and cigarettes. No coffee had been offered and he was trying
desperately not to think about the nicotine cravings he was battling, a major
contributor to his short temper!
He'd tried asking
Bishop’s henchmen when they’d delivered food and water where their boss was but
not gotten an answer. In fact, they’d refused to utter even a word,
just waved their guns to get Nelson to move if he wasn’t where they wanted when
they entered. But that was rare as Nelson had quickly decided that,
without an advantage of some sort, he was better off biding his
time. Bishop’s absence bothered him but, since there didn’t seem to
be anything he could do about it at the moment he’d try to be
patient. But it was getting harder and harder!
* * * *
Chip couldn’t remember a
time when Seaview had been launched as quickly. But as Lee pointed
out when they left the channel, the hand-picked skeleton crew was extremely
motivated. They both were still fidgety until they were cleared to
hit Flank speed. Seaview herself seemed to recognize the urgency, so
smoothly did she glide through the water.
Chief Hauck had proposed
taking FS1, loaded with a highly skilled and highly armed tactical
squad. But Lee, and quietly to the side Chip, vetoed the
idea. While speed seemed to be essential, so was
accuracy. FS1 had the former but Seaview’s superior equipment would
be better at ‘reading’ the yacht and detecting strengths and weaknesses to
better plot their mode of attack. And that would be based on, if
they even had the correct target. Everyone agreed that with the
available intel they would find Nelson on
board. But..
Running at Flank, Lt.
James plotted that Seaview would rendezvous with the yacht at approximately
1300 hours the following day. Knowing that it was no doubt useless,
Will still tried to get Lee to remain calm enough to eat and
sleep. Those were the first two casualties when Seaview’s captain
was under stress. Chip tried to help but he was nearly as antsy as
Lee, although he was a little better at hiding it.
Hoping that Lee and Chip
would stick to their routine of meeting in Lee’s cabin about 2000 hours for a
few minutes of respite from the tension, Will conspired with Cookie and had a
carafe of hot chocolate and half a dozen of the chef’s ‘Death by Chocolate’
brownies delivered a few minutes before that time while he, not wanting to take
any chances, went in search of the two officers to make sure they were pointed
in that direction. As expected he found them in the Conn. Will
suspected that Chip somehow knew what Will had planned – possibly Cookie, or
perhaps Chief Sharkey, had spilled the beans – because the blond not only went
willingly he also all but dragged Lee up the spiral stairs toward Officers’
Country. Will then headed for his own cabin hoping, but not holding
his breath, that the pair would get at least a few hours of rest before what
could easily become chaos.
* * * *
Nelson was relieved to
once more see Bishop; he was beginning to wonder if the man had somehow left
the boat. He wasn’t overly pleased to see the expression on the
man’s face, however. It was the first time Nelson had seen him all
but out of control. Even when he’d beaten Nelson so fiercely it had
been done with calculated efficiency. This time, however, Bishop was
absolutely furious and Nelson took the opportunity to egg it
on. “Problems, Bishop?” he asked oh so innocently.
“What’s that smart-aleck
captain of yours think he’s doing?” came out in a nasty snarl.
Nelson rattled his leg
chain. “I haven’t exactly been in contact with him so I have
absolutely no idea.”
“He hasn’t contacted the
lawyer about the money,” Bishop all but yelled. Nelson only
shrugged. From the harsh beating that instantly commenced, that
wasn’t the answer Bishop wanted.
* * * *
Cookie prepared an early
lunch so that it would coincide with the strategy session Lee planned with key
members of the crew. Chip left Lt. O’Brien in charge of the Conn so
that Lt. James could attend along with MAA Chief Hauck, several members of his security
team, and Davey Jackson who served on Chief Hauck’s team here on Seaview as
well as under Dewey Caudill on NIMR grounds.
Seaview’s long-range
sensors had picked up the ‘Miss Trust’ right on schedule, still doing a steady
15 knots headed in the general direction of Hilo, Hawaii. Chip had
steadied up behind the yacht at a depth of 200 feet, not wanting to risk coming
up to periscope depth just yet. Will didn’t sit at the same table
but was close enough to hear the ideas being tossed out by the others as several
plans were devised to handle different scenarios, depending on what happened
over the next bunch of hours. The one thing everyone agreed on was,
unless they were forced by as yet unknown circumstances they would do nothing
but follow the yacht until after dark.
Just as the meeting was
breaking up, Will somewhat happy that Lee had actually eaten what for him was a
normal amount of food, a call came in from Dewey. Lee had it piped
down and put on speaker.
“Good and bad, Skipper,”
the Security Head sighed softly. “We pulled in Mike Dorset, or
rather, started to but he saw us coming and put up a fight. He’s in
police custody in the hospital after a knife that looks to match the one that
killed Gray Carlyle was found in his possession. But he’s not
talking so we’re waiting on forensics.” He sighed again.
“And…?” Lee
nudged. After all that had happened the last few days Will was
almost surprised to hear the level of control present in his voice, and decided
that he’d keep to himself the fact that he’d ‘doctored’ last night’s hot
chocolate. Not heavily as he was sometimes forced to
do. But the younger man had definitely gotten some much needed rest.
“There was indeed
someone, a secretary, working in Mr. Halliburton’s office.”
“Damn,” slipped out of
Lee’s mouth, and echoed by several others intently listening to the report.
“She’s a redhead so I
had a quick picture of her taken. Sparks should have it by now.”
“The Admiral didn’t act
like he recognized her from what I remember,” Lee challenged.
“She’s part of the
office staff but doesn’t work directly with Mr. Halliburton.”
“So the Admiral may
never have met her,” Chip hypothesized.
“She’s been
neutralized,” Dewey didn’t specify how and Lee didn’t ask, “but
not before she sent a text, we’re not sure to who but we suspect it was the
yacht, saying that you’d not been in contact with the office.”
“So Bishop knows I
haven’t picked up the money.”
“On the other hand you
haven’t received any demand for delivery of the money,” Dewey tried to sound
logical.
Lee shrugged, realized
Dewey couldn’t see it, and said out loud, “There is that.” Seaman
Patterson knocked and entered the Wardroom, handing a photograph to Lee before
quickly exiting. Between Lee and Chip they identified her as the
woman they’d seen with Admiral Nelson.
“I sort of ‘acquired’
Dorset’s cellphone when he was apprehended,” Dewey continued almost shyly and
there were several smiles around the Wardroom, including Lee’s. “A
bunch of extremely interesting text messages. But nothing since he’s
been picked up. If he was supposed to report in we may be screwed,
but nothing has come in for him.”
“We’ve reached the yacht
and are holding station 500 yards behind and 200 feet down until
dark. Haven’t even wanted to come to periscope depth just in case
they are keeping watch. Especially now that I know they may have
been alerted.”
“Roger that,
Skipper. We’re closely monitoring Dorset’s cellphone and will try to
cover if anything comes in.”
“Keep me posted,” Lee
ordered, although he knew that it was unnecessary.
“You bet, sir,” and the
connection was broken.
“Skipper,” MAA Hauck
spoke up, “how about we send FS1 ahead of the yacht. When she goes
by divers can sneak up and attach a couple listening limpets to her hull.”
“Gives us a head’s up of
our own,” Lt. James agreed.
“As long as we don’t get
caught,” Jackson added.
“Rebreathers so no
tell-tale air bubbles,” Hauck offered.
“Make it so,” Lee told
the MAA. “Chip, you pilot FS1.”
As everyone headed out
Will watched Lee pour another mugful of coffee and stand still, drinking it
slowly. “Question, Skipper,” he asked. Lee looked his
direction and nodded. “Chip piloting FS1, not you?”
Lee sent him one of his
almost shy, through-the-lashes looks. “Chip will keep to the plan,
not do something stupid,” he told the doctor.
Will
snorted. “No way I’m touching that line,”
he said firmly. Lee’s occasional impetuousness tended to drive a few
people a little crazy. Lee sent him a small grin and a short nod
before polishing off the coffee and heading forward.
What Lee referred to as
an intel-gathering foray, teasing Chip because of the blond’s
harping about Lee’s occasional missions for ONI, went off without a hitch but
for several hours garnered nothing beyond footsteps around the yacht. Chief
Hauck reported that limpets had been placed front, middle, and aft, several
feet below the water line, almost at the same time by three different
divers. Lee had raised an eyebrow, assuming that one diver could
have placed all three as the yacht went past.
“Wasn’t taking any
chances,” the MAA had replied.
“Bravo Zulu,” Lee told
him with a nod to the divers as well.
The lack of further
intel was grating on Lee’s already strained nerves and he was just starting to
pace about 1630 hours when Dewey once more called. DNA results would
take a while but the knife found on Mike Dorset matched the wound on Gray
Carlyle. “At least Kieran and Debbie can get closure,” he told Lee.
“And without mention of
what caused it?” Lee asked.
“Got it covered,” Dewey
confirmed.
“Good,” Lee told him
firmly. “The less the public finds out, the
better. Although,” he added, “when Dorset and the secretary come to
trial…”
“The secretary won’t,”
Dewey interrupted. “Had a little talk with Mr.
Halliburton.” Lee almost smiled. “She’s being fired and,
since the cellphone she was using was a company phone paid for by the law firm,
I’ve sort of acquired that one, too. She was questioned briefly
about her involvement and who was behind it but she claims everything was done
by phone and text, and she never met the voice on the phone.” His
shrug was obvious even though unseen.” My man and Mr. Halliburton
tended to believe her. Mr. Halliburton drew up a gag order, which
she was more than willing to sign to avoid prosecution.”
“Sounds like he’s due
for a raise,” Chip said quietly, standing behind Lee’s shoulder listening to
the conversation.
Not quietly
enough. “I won’t turn it down, sirs,” came through the mic, and both
Lee and Chip snickered. “But only if we get the Admiral back safe and sound,”
he added firmly.
“That’s a given,” Lee
agreed. “Same phone number on both phones?”
“Yep,” Dewey
confirmed. “Got a friend,” and Lee and Chip shared another grin,
“trying to trace it, but…”
“I know you’ll do
everything you can,” Lee told him.
“And then some,” Chip
added, and even Dewey chuckled softly. Lee updated Dewey on the
limpets and said he’d let Dewey know any intel they
provided. But Chief Hauck was petitioning to raid the yacht about
0130 hours whether they heard anything or not and Lee was perfectly happy with
that plan. So was Dewey!
The call, or maybe just
being able to voice some ideas, helped calm Lee enough that Chip was able to
point him in the direction of the Officers’ Wardroom just prior to 1800
hours. Seaview was still shadowing the yacht, still not hearing much
from the limpets. Sparks was sure that they were functioning
correctly because he was picking up the occasional footsteps, and at one point
snorted loud enough to get both Lee and Chip’s attention.
“Somebody just dropped
something,” he told them. “The term ‘swear like a sailor’ has just
taken on a whole new meaning.”
Will joined them for
supper, as was normal. Between the pair they updated the doctor on
what little intel had come up that
afternoon. But neither were surprised to see Will
meander down the spiral stairs shortly after they’d returned to the Conn, book
in hand. Will would occasionally come to the Nose to read when
things were quiet, although both were perfectly aware that Will’s coming
forward now was more so that he could monitor the upcoming mission to board the
yacht and search for Admiral Nelson. They sent him a nod as they
stood by the chart table going over odds and ends of boat’s business with Lt.
O’Brien. Will took his usual place in the Nose, his back to the
starboard bulkhead somewhat behind the stairs where he was unobtrusive but
could still easily see and hear into the Conn.
About 2130 hours Sparks,
unwilling to let his assistant, Ensign Haskins, take over in the Radio Shack,
abruptly sat up straighter than he had been. “What?” Lee demanded,
walking rapidly that direction.
“Someone’s hurt,” Sparks
told him. That got Will’s attention as well, and he and Chip joined
Lee. “I can’t tell much but all of a sudden there’s someone moaning
and grunting like they’re in pain.”
“I wonder why all of a
sudden,” Chip said.
Will
frowned. “Like maybe they just regained consciousness?” he asked.
Sparks
nodded. “Actually, yeah, Doc.”
Lee’s hand threatened to
smack the nearest bulkhead. “Don’t,” Chip warned harshly before he
sent a small smile into Lee’s glare. “You’re going to need that hand
in a few hours.” Lee nodded but he still frowned as he called Chief
Hauck to the Conn.
Over the next hour Lee,
Chip, Lt. James, and Chiefs Hauck and Sharkey sat at the table in the Nose
going over assault tactics. Will listened quietly after he’d
returned to his chair, not even bothering to pretend to read. While
most everything had already been discussed, no one disagreed with the need to go
over everything again. As odds and ends of equipment was mentioned
Will added quietly, “Bolt cutters?”
“For the chain,” Lee
muttered, ashamed that he’d forgotten that detail.
“Got it covered,”
Sharkey told him. He’d seen the pictures once Seaview left
port. Lee sent him a nod.
The plan, allowing for
variations depending on what they found aboard, was fairly
simple. FS1 would be used to drop off one diver ahead of the yacht
who would, as the yacht passed him, foul the propeller on one side with a
length of high-test cable; the yacht would be forced to stop. More
divers would also be released from FS1 to surround the stopped
boat. They would be armed with spearguns
for immediate use and dart pistols in waterproof bags to use once they were
safely aboard. From there things would progress however they did,
depending on the circumstances. But the main agenda was to
incapacitate whoever they found. Seaview would surface alongside
once the yacht had been secured and additional men would board and help until
the entire yacht, from bow to stern, had been thoroughly
searched. Their objective was, of course, to find and rescue Admiral
Nelson. But no reason they couldn’t look for any other sort of
contraband while they were at it. After that decisions would have to
be made but that could all be done later, once they had the complete picture.
Will did snicker softly,
and had the others glare at him, when there was some disagreement over who
would pilot FS1. There were only a handful of crewmen who knew how
and none of them wanted to be left behind! It was finally agreed,
after resorting to drawing straws, that Chip would pilot FS1 until the yacht
stopped and the armed squad was deployed. He would then scurry back
to Seaview where, once docked, he’d be ready to board with that contingency of
guards. The blond wasn’t completely happy but, next to Lee, he was
the best able to quickly get FS1 docked so that Seaview could get into
position.
Over the next hour
Sparks reported hearing only the occasional footsteps, a couple of doors closing
loudly, and a few more groans of pain. Those were the hardest for
any of Seaview’s crew to know about. At one point Chief Sharkey
muttered to no one in particular, “Doesn’t anyone over there talk to anyone
else?”
“Perhaps the crew is
well-trained enough not to need constant instructions,” Chip muttered back,
with a pointed look in Sharkey’s direction. The COB decided that he
needed to go double-check something away from the Conn.
By 0100 the entire boat
was on edge, barely able to stay in control until their plans could be put into
action.
* * * *
Nelson had no idea how
long he’d been unconscious. Again. While the first
beating had been controlled and calculated this second one had been savage and
unrelenting leaving Nelson, once he did wake up, barely able to breathe let
alone move. Things were broken inside, of that there was no
doubt. How badly damaged remained to be seen but Nelson had no idea
when, or even if, that could be determined. As efficient as Bishop had
been about everything else Nelson was sure that he’d left no clues for Lee to
follow no matter how good his captain was at ferreting out details.
He knew that he’d passed
out at least once more when he woke up to someone almost screaming in pain and
it took him a bit to realize that it was him. He’d apparently tried
to roll over on the thin mattress. Definitely not a good idea,
Harriman, he muttered to himself and tried to take shallow breaths
because deep ones hurt too much.
Because of the pain it
took him extra time to notice that the boat wasn’t moving. He
vaguely remembered a jerk; maybe that was what triggered his attempt to roll
over. Now there was no sound of the engines and the boat felt
sluggish, like it was coasting to a stop. There were some angry
shouts; someone giving orders. Possibly Bishop, Nelson thought, but
since he’d barely heard the man raise his voice above a slick, self-assured,
level he couldn’t be sure.
Then, suddenly, it
seemed like everyone aboard was shouting. Nelson had no idea how
many people that was; he’d only seen two besides Bishop. But now it
sounded like a small army, complete with gunfire. “Lee,” he breathed
softly. But he didn’t have time to question how that could be
because at that moment the door to his prison slammed open and Bishop stood in
the doorway, a pistol in his hand and an absolutely nasty, evil, expression on
his face.
* * * *
Lee could barely contain
himself as he waited to drop out FS1’s bottom hatch. Chief Hauck had
given himself the task of fouling the propeller, a bit tricky to do it right
without getting himself killed in the process. But he and Sharkey
had put their heads together and come up with a section of cargo netting
instead of a single length of rope or line. It would be a little
harder to maneuver through the water but much easier to make it snag the
machinery. Once he and his net were dropped off Chip positioned FS1
where they hoped the yacht would come to rest and the ‘assault squad’ was
deployed, Lee in the lead.
The plan worked almost
perfectly. Whoever was in command in the pilothouse at that hour of
the night was good; he, or she, had noticed the propeller issue instantly and
cut both engines. The yacht stopped a little short of where Lee’s
men were deployed but it only took them an extra 90 seconds to reach where they
wanted to board. Chief Hauck almost beat them there, the yacht had
stopped so fast. Shouts on the deck covered most of the sounds of
the team tossing up grappling hooks and quickly climbing aboard, the first ones
covering both directions until everyone was in position before they started
fanning out.
As much as Lee hated
killing, the first man who he encountered, gun in hand, went down instantly
from Lee’s spear, the armament telling Lee that this wasn’t a boat of
innocents.
Part of the strategy
session had involved studying blueprints of the yacht’s possible layout and Lee
pointed himself toward the lower interior area, that being the most logical
place for Nelson to be. He ran into one more man, who almost didn’t
have time to realize Lee was there before a dart from Lee’s gun stopped him in
his tracks and a chop on the back of his neck felled him long enough for the
tranquilizers in the dart to take full effect. Around and above him
were sounds of more encounters and he sent a silent prayer that it was his team
winning the battles. Ahead of him he heard a door bang, closed or
opened he couldn’t be sure, and he headed that direction.
Lee could never say
later exactly the order of events over the next few minutes. Or
never allowed himself to ponder them was the thought Nelson shared much later
with Will over a couple glasses of scotch. One second Lee was
standing at the corner of two corridors seeing a man standing in the closest
doorway pointing a gun at a crumpled mound of something laying on a thin
mattress. The next lucid thought he had was of his fists turning someone
else into a crumpled mound, with no though in his mind whatsoever of stopping
the assault. There was no awareness of his own body being hit, only
the feel of his fists hitting flesh, over and over and over until…
“Lee,” filtered through
the red haze of his hatred for the man he was pounding but it barely slowed
down the cadence of the blows. “LEE,” came louder, and someone tried
to grab his arms. He shoved them away with a harsh growl and
continued his attack.
“ENOUGH!” was yelled
into his right ear as he was grabbed from both sides and hauled backward.
Lee finally took his
eyes off the lump and focused on the voice. “Chip?”
“Yeah,
buddy. Ski’s to port,” and whoever – apparently Senior Rating
Kowalski – had his left arm let go and gave that shoulder a light
pat. Lee’s next glance was toward the mattress, and he instantly
struggled again when he saw someone bending over the lump. But Chip
held firm. “Just Frank,” Chip told him. “Jamie will be
here shortly. The Admiral’s alive. Which is more than I
can say for whoever that is,” was mumbled into Lee’s ear, and Chip nodded to
whoever Lee had been beating.
“Dead?” Lee barely
whispered.
“Works for me,” Chip
said with a shrug. Lee sat back and took a few deep breaths.
It took almost an hour
to get everything sorted out. All told, the yacht had carried
fourteen men besides Admiral Nelson. Two others had been killed
besides Bishop, identified by what was in his wallet and also papers found in
his cabin. The other two killed were identified by the terrified
captain of the yacht as Bishop’s men. Everyone else was crew hired
by the leasing company. There was a moment when someone asked, “How
did we manage to only kill the bad guys,” and someone else told him, “Those
were the only ones who fought back.”
Lee had finally calmed
down enough to think straight although his own crewmen were giving him a wide
berth. Once he and Chip were satisfied as to who was who, Bishop and
the other two dead were transferred to Seaview. Admiral Nelson had
been carefully carried there by stretcher almost immediately. The
yacht was searched again, the regular crew extremely helpful in pointing out
anything that belonged to the three dead men although Chief Hauck and his men
didn’t totally trust them and searched everything anyway. The captain appeared
horrified when Nelson’s condition became known. He claimed that he
and his crew had been totally unaware of Bishop’s plans and had been kept away
from that area of the yacht. Once Chief Hauck and his team decided that they
had everything sorted out, and divers had removed the cargo net from the
propeller shaft and checked for any damage, the captain of the yacht was told
that he was free to go. Which he did, as fast as he could!
On returning to Seaview
Lee left all the details to Chip for the time being and headed straight to Sick
Bay. He wasn’t encouraged to find the Admiral seemingly unconscious
on one of the center exam beds. “He’ll be fine,” came from the
doorway to Jamie’s office and the doctor appeared carrying a handful of
papers. “He’s sleeping,” Jamie switched voices to a very firm one,
“and don’t you dare wake him up.” Lee sent him a shy
smile. “A couple of broken ribs, some very heavy bruising over his
kidneys so that will need to be watched carefully. Concussion
symptoms.” He shrugged. “All in all, it could have been a
lot worse.” Lee took a step toward Nelson but stopped still several
feet away. “He told me,” Jamie continued more softly, “that you did
a whole lot worse to the guy who beat him.”
“He was awake?”
“At the point you found
him, anyway. And off and on over the last hour.”
“I lost control,” Lee
said so softly that he wasn’t sure he’d even said it out loud. “I
was…”
“You had provocation,”
Jamie tried to rationalize Lee’s obvious distress.
“That can’t happen,” Lee
almost whispered, his voice full of pain. “My job… I
don’t dare…”
“I’m the last person
who’s going to argue with your actions,” came softly from the exam
table. Will growled softly but he had a hard time controlling a grin
as he walked over to the far side of the table. Lee seemed glued to
the spot where he was standing. “You handled it, Lee,” Nelson
continued, his voice soft.
“None of your crew got
more than a few scratches and a bloody nose,” Will continued. “Your
actions for sure saved the Admiral’s life. According to Frank, who’s
been talking to the crew, the three dead were all career criminals who no one
is going to miss. Cut yourself some slack.”
“What he said,” Nelson
added, and sent Lee as much of a smile as his lips would allow.
“Yes, sir,” Lee told
him. He walked close enough to lay a hand gently on Nelson’s
shoulder, nodded ever so briefly, added, “Thank you, sir. Welcome
home,” and left.
Lee purposely walked
through the boat, nodding to and sharing a few words with every crewman he
met. He was very aware that they needed to see him back in control,
not so totally ‘out of it’ that he’d beaten a man to death. It
didn’t matter that the man deserved it; a good leader did not lose
that kind of control.
He could feel that
Seaview was still on the surface, and sent Chip a raised eyebrow as he entered
the Control Room. “The prevailing sentiment,” Chip told him, “is to
hold a quick burial at sea.”
Lee briefly
frowned. Normally that would go against his sense of lawfulness and
duty. On the other hand, he could see agreement on all the faces
turned toward him and slowly nodded. The Admiral could yell at him
later but that really did seem the best way for everyone to put the whole
ordeal behind them. But captain of the boat or not, he simply could
not manage the words for the simple service and was grateful when Lt. Bryson,
an active member of his church when Seaview was at home, volunteered.
Lee watched with Chip
from on top the Conning Tower. They took binoculars with them,
mostly on the lookout for any other vessels that might be in the area even
though Seaview’s instrumentation hadn’t indicated any. The yacht was
already out of sight, continuing on a heading for Hawaii since they didn’t know
what else to do. Someone, and no one was taking responsibility for
the action, had disabled the yacht’s radio.
Chip was already
scanning the horizon in the last half hour before the skies would lighten to
announce the start of a new day. In more ways than one, Lee
told himself as he joined his XO. They remained quiet as the short
ceremony took place below them on the aft deck. As the few crewmen
required to handle the bodies quickly re-entered Seaview’s Boarding Hatch Chip
turned toward Lee. “We got lucky,” he said, barely out loud.
“Got that right,” Lee
agreed. He tugged his jacket closer as a sudden chill hit
him. The air was cool, requiring the jackets both men had
grabbed. But suddenly Lee could barely control the shaking.
“It’s okay now,” Chip told
him, reaching a hand to give Lee’s shoulder a firm and affirmative grip.
Lee nodded but continued
to shake. “What if we hadn’t found him in time. I
should have done what I was told and gotten the money.”
Chip’s grip increased
briefly before he dropped his hand. “Not your style,
buddy.” Lee merely shook his head. “What
else?” Chip knew his friend only too well.
Lee took a few deep
breaths. “Do you ever think about what will happen when the Admiral
isn’t here any longer?”
“No,” Chip told him
instantly. “I have enough trouble keeping up with current
chaos.” He nudged Lee’s shoulder with his own. “Usually
caused by you,” was added with a broad grin. That got a soft snort
and a glare, and Chip nudged him again. “Let’s go
home.” Lee nodded and they headed down to the Conn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
* See “Echo” by R. L. Keller
** See “Oops” by R. L. Keller