This story takes place immediately
after Doppelganger and before Good Run of Bad Luck. Thanks to Rita who
threatens to kick my tail on a daily basis, to Kim who really needed something
shirtless, to Fidelma to whom I owed a shirtless scene. For all the Lee’s
Ladies—I tried to do your man justice—and to Harry’s Harem—I didn’t want to
leave them out and to Sue, from whom I’ve learned so much.
Company of Shadows
Sharon H
~<<>>~
The last time
Nelson came up to his cabin, it had been after his allergic reaction to an
emergency-breathing device that turned his personality upside down1. His attitude toward Chip during the
onset of those symptoms had alienated the exec for weeks afterwards. Even after
a long heart to heart talk with Chip, the younger man had been cautious around
the admiral, guarding his words and actions. There was an underlying current of
something between Chip and Lee as well, so Nelson had convinced the two to join
him for a long weekend at his cabin. Everyone needed time to recover from that
disastrous cruise.
How long ago had
that been? Nelson had lost track of the months. A year or more? His own life
had been turned upside down as of late with the emergence of a daughter he
hadn't known existed. It seemed like bits of his past were finally coming home
to roost.
It was healing of a
different sort that brought Nelson back to his retreat away from civilization.
The mentally unstable Randolph Mason had managed to escape from the Springhurst
Psychiatric Center and had kidnapped Lee Crane. Drugged, bound, gagged and
blindfolded, Lee had been helpless to stop Mason as he tried to carry out his
plan to eventually kill Nelson. Part of that plan had been to kidnap his
daughter. Disguised as Lee, Mason had attacked Serena and she was now trying to
come to grips with that encounter.
She wasn't doing
very well. In the days following her and Lee's rescue she'd grown increasingly
skittish around Crane, unable to tolerate his presence in the same room. Her
attack seemed to have opened up a past trauma and it was Nelson's hope that,
away from everything familiar, Serena would open up and eventually move past
it. So he had convinced her to come up here with him, in the hopes that she
could start her own healing process.
Lee wasn’t
handling it very well either. Nelson knew that somehow Lee was trying to blame
himself for the whole thing. Not that there was a damn thing Lee could have
done to stop it but it was how Lee was wired, to take control and be
responsible. Another person who needed time to heal.
As Harriman walked
along the worn path he wondered if he was doing the right thing in bringing
Serena and Lee out here. Serena was as stubborn as he ever was and she refused
to talk about whatever was bothering her. Well, in a few days, Lee would be
arriving and she would have to face him and whatever episode from her past was
haunting her.
Nelson wandered
along the trail a little farther, following the sound of rushing water. He knew
a fast running creek ran through this section of forest. At its widest, the
creek was fully six feet across and as deep in places. Right now the usually
crystal clear waters were dark with mud and debris from the uplands. A cold
front was moving in and the uplands were the first to see rain. In another day
the rain would impact this valley and they'd be stuck in the cabin until the
weather broke.
As Harriman
watched the frothy dark waters rushing below him off the trail, he reached into
the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a soft pack of cigarettes. From the pocket
of his faded jeans he pulled out a silver Zippo lighter. It had been a gift
from Lee last Christmas. More of a collector's item, Nelson nevertheless liked
to carry it around. Engraved on the front was the logo of the institute he had
founded and beneath it was the forward facing silhouette of the Seaview.
He lit the
cigarette and snapped the lighter closed then moved to drop it back in his
pocket. Instead the object dropped from his fingers and bounced along the
ground, landing in a loose pile of branches along the bank's edge.
“Well. That's
lovely,” Nelson snorted and promptly hopped off the trail to go after the small
silver lighter. He didn't want to lose Lee's gift.
He crept along the
edge of the bank, the ground soft under his feet. This close to the flooded
creek, the bank was likely to be unstable. Nelson grabbed at a small sapling
for balance and bent down on one knee to reach out for the lighter. His fingers
brushed the corner but he was a fraction too far away. With a grumble he edged
closer but he had to release his grip on the sapling to do it. This time his
thumb and finger closed around it. With a triumphant smile, Nelson rose to his
feet and stuffed the object into his pocket.
That's when the
bank crumbled and Nelson was deposited like so much debris into the onrushing
water. He gasped in shock at the coldness of the creek but he managed to get
his head above water. The banks were too high and unstable to offer any
purchase so Nelson let the current carry him until he was able to haul himself
out of the water onto drier land.
For a second he
lay flat on his back, gasping for air. He didn’t know how long he’d been in the
water but he was a good hundred feet from where he’d started. With cold fingers
he dug into his jeans pocket, feeling for the lighter. It was still there.
Well, at least the dunking wasn’t a total loss.
Harriman pushed
himself to his feet and a shiver ran up his spine. If he was lucky he could get
back to the cabin before his worrywart daughter did. If he moved really quickly
he could get dried off and hide the evidence of his encounter with Mother
Nature. If Serena found out that her master diver, four-star admiral, father
fell into a creek, he'd never hear the end of it.
With his shoulders
squared and his shoes squishing water and mud, Harriman Nelson started back for
the cabin, determined not to let this interrupt his time off.
~<<>>~
Can you shoot me before I cut his throat, that’s the question,
ain’t it?
Fingers knotted
in his hair pulling his head back and exposing his neck. The edge of the cold
blade pressed against his skin, the fine edge of heat under his Adam’s apple as
the blade dug in, seeking blood, the blast of a gunshot that was too close for
comfort…
With a strangled gasp Lee bolted out of his bunk and sat on the edge of the mattress, heaving great gulps of air as the lingering images of the nightmare slowly faded like fog. For a long time he just sat there, his fingers gripping the edge of the mattress as he fought to banish the shadows from his mind. He didn’t want to admit how badly the incident had shaken him. He was ONI trained, a seasoned operative. He was a commander in the United States Navy. He was a grown man, an adult. He should be able to deal with this. He’d had worse happen to him.
A quick glance at his watch proved it was nearly 0600. Running a hand through his sleep tousled hair, Lee groaned and heaved himself up out of his bunk. With none of his usual bounce he made his slow way to the cabin’s head and turned on the tap. Splashing his face with cool water helped but it didn’t do much for his appearance. Staring back at Lee was a tired and haggard figure that hadn’t had a full night’s sleep.
Chip’s bound to say something, Lee thought as he worked to try and clean himself up. A hot shower to unknot stress-tight muscles, a shave, and clean clothes were a good start. Feeling less like someone who had been wrestling nightmares most of the night, Lee left his cabin and headed for the Control Room.
He expected the Control Room to be empty but instead he found Chip Morton already in the nose, a cup of coffee in his hand. One look at Lee and a blond eyebrow went up.
“Do I look that
bad?” Lee asked.
“Well, I don’t
think Wen would be impressed with you. Course, my sister always did have weird
tastes in men,” Chip teased.
“Wise guy. Anymore
where that came from?” Lee indicated the coffee cup in Chip’s hands.
“I made a pot when
I came aboard. It’s not the toxic sludge Cookie plies us with but it’s
passable.”
Lee snorted and
moved toward the coffee pot. He poured a waiting cup full and wrapped both
hands around it, taking a deep swallow. “You’re right, not as gluey as Cookie’s
brew but it works. What brings you down here so early?”
“I thought I would
come down here and wait for you to rise and shine. I figured I’d better be the
one to break the news.”
Lee spun around to
face Chip. “News? What news?”
“We’re being
kicked off base.”
“What? How? By
whom…no. He wouldn’t.”
Chip nodded. “Oh
yes, he would. More to the point, he did. Jamie was waiting for me tossed me
out when I tried to slip into my office this morning.” Chip actually looked sheepish as he took a
deep swallow from his cup. “I’m supposed to find you and escort you and myself
off the property. He said the only way to get rid of me is to get rid of you.”
Lee growled,
downing half the coffee. “Interfering, meddlesome, old busy-body. There isn’t
anything wrong with me. I don’t need him telling me…” Lee’s words trailed off
as Chip stared at him, those blue orbs filled with disapproval and a touch of
disbelief. “What are you looking at?”
“Lee, I’ve seen
men dead a week that look better than you do now. You’re kidding yourself if
you think you can fool everybody into thinking what happened is just going to
go away. I know you, Lee, and so does Jamie. “
Lee slammed the
half empty cup down on the tabletop, the contents spilling out of the cup and
sloshing brown onto the table’s surface. “What’s that supposed to mean? You
both think I can’t do my job now?” he snapped angrily.
Chip took a deep
breath. He’d known Lee was going to react badly but he didn’t think it was
going to be quite like this. “Lee, you’re my brother. I’ll do anything for
you. But I’m not going to lie to you.
Right now, no. I wouldn’t trust command of Seaview to you.”
Lee folded his
arms over his chest, head down, his eyes hooded as he glared out the window and
into the channel waters. His shoulders slumped in silent defeat. Gently, Chip
reached out and touched Lee's arm.
“Lee? Don't close
yourself off, not from me.”
His fingers
digging into his upper arms hard enough to bruise, Lee took a deep breath,
trying to find the answers and finding nothing; just the voices in his head,
taunting him and mocking him, seeing the fear in Serena's green eyes.
“What if—what if
the admiral doesn't think I'm fit to command her anymore? Have I become a
liability? To hurt the admiral, his enemies reach out for the ones who are the
closest to him. Somewhere along the line he's become more than just my superior
officer. What if I've put him in danger, simply because we've blurred the lines
between employer and friend?”
“Lee, I think
that's something that you’re going to have to talk over with the admiral. I've
known him as long as you have. You served under him on the Nautilus but
I've worked with him since he established the institute. You ground him, you
make him see reason. Somehow, you make him more human. He needs you here. I
need you here. I'm not going to let you walk away. He's not going
to let you just walk away.”
“What if it's for
the best? If it hadn't been for me you'd have never been shot. If it hadn't
been for me Serena would never have to go through what she did. Because of me
she's terrified I'm going to hurt her. You didn't see the look in her eyes.”
“All the more
reason for you to get the hell out of here. Jamie wants us gone—then let's go.
We'll drive up to the admiral's cabin and you three can hash this out while I
sleep.”
Lee turned
slightly to glance at Chip out of the corner of one eye. “You'd drive up there
with me?”
“I'm not going to
let you go up there by yourself. Lee, you look half dead, for crying out loud.
You’d probably get pulled over for impersonating a zombie,” Chip replied.
“I have to pack.”
That little boy quality was back, the tone not at all happy about being thrown
off base.
“So go home and
pack. I'll tell Jamie what we're planning. I’m sure the admiral won’t mind if
you turn up a few days early.”
“Why do I detect a
plot? You're horribly eager to get me off the grounds.” Lee narrowed his eyes
and glared at his friend.
Chip blinked wide,
innocent blue eyes. “You're accusing me of plotting? Why Lee, I'm hurt. Deeply
hurt. What possible reason could I have for offering to drive your sour six
into the mountains for a vacation I know you want no part of?”
This time Lee
grinned broadly. “I can think of one reason.”
~<<>>~
Harriman glanced
at his watch again, certain that time had stopped. The concern in his gut was
blossoming into full-fledged worry. Outside, the clouds had gathered and a
steady downpour had already drenched the ground. Small puddles had formed on
the open-air deck outside the kitchen.
Nelson alternated
between pacing in the den to pacing the confines of the kitchen. He was used to
worrying about Lee. It wasn't something he enjoyed doing but with time and
practice he'd managed to turn the worrying into an art form. Worrying about
Serena was something he hadn't mastered yet.
He glanced down at
his watch one more time. She should have been back hours ago. Could she have
run into trouble? Taken a fall and broken something? Attacked by a bear? With
bizarre thoughts of what might have happened to his daughter, Nelson was about
ready to grab a jacket and head out into the elements to search for her. That's
when her figure, head down and arms wrapped around her, came trudging up the
stairs onto the deck. Nelson threw open the sliding glass door, not sure if he
wanted to wrap her in his arms or turn her over his knee.
Instead he tried
for something middle-of-the-road. “A little damp, are we?”
Serena Harrison
looked up him, her long, red hair scraggly and wet, mud up to her knees and a
very sheepish grin on her face. She was completely and utterly soaked to the
skin and shivering as she climbed the steps to the wrap-around deck. The fates
chose that moment to strike and Serena let loose a double sneeze. She sniffed
and sneezed again.
“Sorry I'm late.
My watch died and I lost track of time. Then it sort of started to rain and I
had to walk back in it.”
“Hrumph. And just
how long have you been tramping though the rain and mud?”
Serena’s chagrined
look and downcast eyes were enough to make Nelson shake his head and stand
aside for her to enter the cabin. “Get in here. You can dry off and warm up.
Don't want you catching a cold on your vacation.”
The young woman smiled
shyly and ducked past her father into the cabin, tracking mud as she went. She
didn't say anything else as she dripped her way down the hall to her room, and
closed the door carefully behind her. He heard two more sneezes coming from
behind the door. (I am being nitpicky I guess, but I crossed out the closed
because we already know it was closed.)
Nelson stood in
the kitchen, feeling a smile come over him. Not for the first time, he wondered
how she would have turned out if he had had a hand in her raising, if he'd been
allowed to be a part of her life as a child. Likewise, how would he have turned
out if he had been given the chance to be a father?
Dismissing what he
couldn't change, the retired admiral set to work cleaning up the trail his
wayward daughter had created. He ignored the tickle in the back of his throat
as he fetched a mop and started cleaning.
~<<>>~
Will Jamieson was
standing in front of his office windows, arms crossed over his chest, leaning
against the corner. He had a wonderful view of the bay, not to mention a rather
nice view of the quay Seaview called home when circumstances allowed her
to berth on the surface rather than in the underground facility. The two
figures making their slow way up the walk from the dock were clearly recognizable;
the one broad-shouldered and blond, the second, lean and dark-haired. They
walked side by side, matching each other's stride. Neither man was in uniform.
Both men appeared to be wearing jeans. One wore a dark T-shirt and the other
appeared to be wearing a polo shirt. Jamieson was pretty sure at that point
they were aware of the havoc they would unleash if they turned up in uniform.
It would be like them to try a stunt like that just to see what he would do.
Stick them both
back in Med Bay so fast their hair would curl, Jamieson answered his own question with a wry grin. Chip
was healing nicely and it was hard to keep him down. There really wasn't
anything wrong with Lee—physically at any rate—that time wouldn't heal. Having
kicked the blond out of the building at first light, he knew Chip would hunt
Lee down. What Jamieson hadn't counted on was Lee getting caught aboard Seaview.
Jamison was well
aware that those two were closer than brothers. They berated, harassed and
mercilessly teased each other to no end. But in that same vein, if something
should happen to one, the second would move heaven and earth for his injured
brother; a fact that Jamieson shamelessly used whenever the situation called
for it—like now.
Despite Lee's
intense ONI training, his years in the field as an agent, and the experience of
commanding Seaview, this episode with Mason was troubling the skipper
more than he was admitting. That Serena had gotten caught up in the mess and
now was apparently terrified of the man she had never shown fear towards before
was also taking its toll on Lee. He prided himself on knowing each member of
the crew, and he knew most of the staff by first name. That Serena now shied
away from him bothered Lee and Jamie knew it.
The plan he and
Nelson had laid out was simple; Nelson and Serena would go on up to Nelson’s
cabin and Lee would follow a few days later. However, after watching Lee trying
to outrun the memory of his kidnapping and the helpless hours he had spent
listening to Mason's gloating, Will was convinced that Lee needed to get off
base as soon as possible. So Jamieson had exercised his greatest power and
declared Lee—and Chip—unfit for duty. By ordering both off base he was hoping
that Morton’s instinct toward brotherhood would rise up and Chip would go with
Lee to the admiral's cabin. Serena's own mental state was in a precarious
position at the moment and the sooner she worked out her issues with Lee, the
better off she would be.
How was she going
to react when Lee and Chip turned up and she had nowhere to go? Jamieson could
only speculate. He had treated her but he was far from knowing her as well as
he did Lee or Chip. She might withdraw, or she might get angry. If Serena chose
to withdraw, how would Lee react? Knowing Lee, there was only one possible
ending if she couldn't cope. Will could only hope that with Nelson and Chip to
mediate the two, they would work through this, else Serena would never be able
to work with Lee Crane. And Lee would hate himself for what he couldn't help.
~<<>>~
Wendy Morton
glanced up at the quiet knock on the door, surprised to see the lean figure
propped against the doorframe. Her eyes
narrowed a fraction as she saw him up close for the first time in days. Not
that he was actually avoiding her but she'd been busy and Jamie hadn't released
him back to duty yet, so he hadn't been in his office as usual. To Wendy, Lee
looked tired. He looked like a man who'd been wrestling demons in the dark and
coming out second best. Always lean, he had an almost hollow look to him now,
with a hint of frailty, as if bent too hard he might break. With a million
rumors flying about what had happened to Lee, Wendy could fully see that
whatever he'd faced, it had left a scar on his soul. She pulled her attention
away from the computer screen to smile at her visitor. “Hi handsome,” she
began.
Lee promptly took
that as invitation to plant on hip on the edge of the meticulously neat and
organized desk. “Busy?” he asked.
“Just going over
the Bimini project. With Serena gone to her mother's—a move I still don't
understand—I promised I'd stay on top of the project.”
Lee picked up a
glass paperweight with a tiny model of Seaview inside. The glass was
cool in his hand and he turned it over, examining the replica of the first lady
in his life, encased in the glass bubble.
“About that...Serena didn't go to her mother's, exactly.” That story was
a cover concocted by the admiral. There was still that mysterious Rinaldi
person and until they found out who he was and what he wanted, Nelson wasn't
taking any chances that word of their little 'vacation' would get out.
Wendy's blue eyes
cooled to freezing. “You lied to me,” she said with frost in her voice. “I
thought that story about her trotting off to her mother's sounded fishy. You
forget; I've met the old bag. How on earth Serena could be expected to have any
measure of peace in that house is beyond me. So where is she?”
Lee squirmed. He
hated lying to her but if there was the remotest chance of a leak in the
institute, the fewer people who knew exactly where they had gone, the better.
“She's with the
admiral.”
Lee was pretty
sure that the windows began to frost over. Lee would be the first to admit that
he thought of Chip as his brother and he'd move heaven and earth if Chip needed
him. He tended to forget how close Wendy and Serena had gotten since meeting.
She looked after Serena in much the same way Chip tended to look after
Lee.
“And where might
that be?” Her words were as sharp as broken glass.
“Wen, trust me,
she's safe. There is a reason we're not advertising where they went.”
“I don't rank high
enough on the ladder to know where my best friend has been spirited off to?
Lee, part of my job is to protect her. I failed her once and you aren’t making
this any easier!” she said angrily. She pushed up the sleeves of her dark blue
blouse, almost as if gearing up for battle.
Lee tilted his
head back to look at the ceiling. He didn't want to argue with her over this.
Unconsciously he rubbed at his temple, the faint throbbing of a headache just
beginning to announce itself. “Wendy, I
told you once—sometimes there are things I can't include you in on. You're gonna have to trust me on this.”
Wendy stood up and
faced Lee. Her mouth was set in a grim line as she stared at him with glacier
blue eyes. “And just when do I get included in this great secret circle? Is
there a secret handshake I have to learn? Do I have to know the code word or
something? I can accept that you are involved in some classified stuff but how
the hell is this classified? Mason is DEAD. The admiral shot and killed him.
What further danger can he pose to anyone that you have to make a big secret
out of all this?”
Lee moved to his
feet and griped her shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of her
blouse, desperation making his grip tighter than he expected and he tried to
relax before he bruised her. “This has nothing to do with trusting you or not
trusting you. This has to do with the safety of the admiral and that's not
something I'm willing to leave up to the whim of chance. If I didn't think
there was a risk I'd tell you everything I know, but I can't do that right now.
Please, just trust me.”
Wendy took a step
away from Lee, turning her back to him and walking to the window. Her arms were
still crossed over her chest and she bowed her head, leaning against the
window. Lee wasn't sure what to do next. He and Wendy seldom argued about
anything, her code of ethics and morals were so close to his own that his
actions had never been called into issue.
Finally the blonde
woman broke the uncomfortable silence. “Mason was working with someone, wasn't
he? It's how he got out of Springhurst; it's how he had the resources to get
past security to grab you. That’s how he knew Serena was related to the admiral
and how he knew to target her.” Wendy spun around to face Lee. “Isn't it? And
because Mason's dead, you don't know who he is and if he might come after the admiral.”
Lee let out the
breath he'd been holding. He kept his voice low and closed the distance between
them, reaching for her once more. This time his arms closed around her and he
held her close. He should have known she would figure it out. “You can't tell
anyone about this. Jamie knows, as well as Angie, and the ones who rescued us.
But Mason had two men working for him. While they had me, one of them gloated
about what they were going to do to Serena. She was part of the payment for my
kidnapping. They were going to turn her over to somebody name Rinaldi. But we
don't know why, or if it's connected to the admiral. We can't take the chance
that somebody might use her to hurt him, and until we find guy, we're doing
everything we can to protect both the admiral and Serena, before somebody does
to them what Mason tried to do to me.”
Wendy leaned her
head against Lee's chest, closing her eyes and just let herself be surrounded
by his powerful presence. “She's more than my friend, Lee. Until she came here,
I was nearly the only family she had. After her accident, she closed her mother
out of her life and I was the only one she'd connect with. It's killing me that
I can't help her. Promise me you won't let anything else happen to her.”
Lee gently kissed
her forehead. “I'll do anything to protect the admiral, and by extension,
Serena. Now you know why we haven't said anything. We don't want this to leak
out.”
Wendy pulled away
and looked up into Lee's eyes. “This Rinaldi person, you've looked for him at
Springhurst, haven't you?”
Lee nodded. “There
was no record of anybody by that name there, either as staff or patient. We
don't have any leads. With Mason dead we don't even have a first name. We
haven't talked to Serena about this. Right now she can't stand the sight of
me.”
“Then let me dig
into this. You've got nothing to lose. Please? I was hired to watch after her
and the minute I'm out of reach somebody tries a stunt like this. Let me make
it up to you and see what I can dig up.”
Lee paused.
Normally he would have Chip dig into this mess but he was still on sick leave
and Jamie would have nine fits if he caught Chip doing anything but resting and
recovering. The exec was already dropping hints about a road trip to
Springhurst, but Lee had vetoed the idea, at least for the moment. But if Wendy
was willing to do some digging it might save some time on their part, and keep
him and Chip off Jamie's radar.
“You'll be quiet
about it? Report anything you find to Angie. Work with her on this and no one
else. Understand me?”
Wendy batted
innocent eyes up at him and smiled. “Of course, Commander. And just what are
you going to be up to?”
Lee planted a
quick kiss on her lips, and then let her go. “Chip and I have been kicked off
base.”
Wendy frowned,
speculating. “I see. I heard about Serena. Lee, this thing with you and her,
it's not personal, I could swear to that. She just needs time to work through
that it wasn't you who attacked her.” She walked back to her desk, leaning
against the heavy solid piece of furniture as she studied the man before her.
He sighed and his hazel eyes seemed to a shadow of sadness as he spoke.
“I know. We hope
that we can work that out. She didn't deserve what happened to her.”
“When are you leaving?”
“We'll probably
take off first thing in the morning. It will drive Jamie crazy till we leave.”
Lee grinned.
“Why do you harass
that poor man so much? I swear you and Chip are going to drive him to drink one
day. I want you to be careful. Lee,” Wendy reached for Lee's arm, feeling the
tension in his muscles. “This isn't your fault. I know how you are; I've gotten
to know you better in the last few months. You have a tendency to blame yourself
for everything you can't control. This was a freak thing, not something you
could have anticipated. Mason was too informed, he was too prepared.”
Lee tried to relax
but she had hit the nail on the head. It was the core of his being, that sense
of responsibility. “I'm trained to anticipate, to plan ahead. I should have
considered that someone might break into my condo, I should have taken into
account that I might be used against the admiral,” he said. Only Wendy wasn't
listening, or rather she wasn't agreeing.
“You're human. You
and Chip both have this insane idea you can single-handily stop all the evil in
this world. You can't be everywhere at once; you're only going to kill yourself
trying to save everyone. Take off, get away and for once, take care of yourself.
Please?”
“Is that an
order?” Lee ducked his head and glanced up at her through dark lashes. Wendy
let out a soft laugh and rolled her eyes.
“Mom was right
about you; you're impossible. Go on. You probably have to pack and if you're
leaving with Chip, he's probably waiting at your condo, staring at the clock. I
have work to do and I can't do it while you're hanging around, looking so
pathetically cute.”
“Cute? That's all
I get?” Lee mocked.
What Lee got was
another kiss not nearly as chaste as the one he’d gifted her with earlier. When
he came up for air, Wendy's eyes danced as she sat back down behind her desk.
“Hold that thought
till I get back?” he asked
“I'll make a note
of it in my calendar.”
With a crooked
salute Lee took his leave. Wendy watched the empty doorway for a long time,
still thinking of him. He certainly wasn't like anybody else she had ever
known. She could only hope that whatever he'd been forced to endure, with Chip
and Nelson to help him move past it, the dark cloud that seemed to follow him
would lift. Still thinking of his golden eyes, Wendy turned back to the
computer but her mind wasn't entirely on her work. What she needed was to talk
to Angie. She stared at the phone for a long time then reached for the receiver
and dialed the extension to Angie Watson's office.
“Angie? Hi. I was
wondering, I know you're busy now but I need to talk to you. Think you could
spare me some time over lunch?”
~<<>>~
The day was
drawing to a close. The overcast sky darkened early with the approach of a new
storm. Since yesterday it had been nothing but rain, with short periodic breaks
in between downpours. Unable to enjoy a quiet evening outside on the deck, the
two occupants of the secluded cabin by the lake had retreated to the den.
Serena never did figure out that Nelson had gone for an unauthorized swim, and
he made no further mention of her extended hike through the rain.
Harriman Nelson
took a deep long breath, actually beginning to relax and enjoy himself. He was
pretty sure all hell would break loose in a few days but for now he would enjoy
the peace and quiet and savor the company of his daughter. Off in the distance thunder growled,
announcing the building storm. Standing by the large windows of the den, Nelson
could see lighting playing in the dark clouds. Weather like this wasn’t
uncommon in this area and Nelson didn’t particularly worry. It gave them an
excuse to stay inside and he could get to learn more about the woman he’d been
estranged from since her birth.
The approaching
storm didn't seem to bother Serena. Right now his daughter was curled up in a
cozy chair, her legs tucked under her. She was reading a book by an author
Nelson had never heard of. Something he had learned early on was that Serena
had eclectic tastes in her reading. On the table nearby sat a half empty glass
of milk. Without looking Serena reached out for the glass and took a deep
drink.
“Is that any
good?” Nelson asked her. Serena looked up from her book, her green eyes seeming
to glow in the fading light of day.
“Which one, the
book or the milk?” she asked with a light smile. She closed the book and set it
on the table and picked up the glass once more, finishing off the milk. Only
then she relaxed into the chair, watching him as he settled into the corner of
the large couch.
“I think it’s time
we talked about a few things,” she said slowly, her hand reaching for the
dolphin pendent she no longer wore. Mason had taken it from her when he had
kidnapped her and it had never resurfaced. The necklace—a family heirloom
passed down from three generations—had been a gift to Serena from her mother
upon her entry into college. One of the first habits Nelson had noticed about
her was the need to pull the pendent back and forth along the chain. He would
have to see about an appropriate substitute.
“Well, that’s part
of the reason we’re up here—just me and you with no distractions. Was there
something specific you wanted to talk about?” Nelson asked. He was wondering if
she was ever going to open up. Like him, Serena wasn’t one to talk openly about
emotions.
“How many are
there?”
“Pardon?”
Serena exhaled
sharply. “How many more like Mason are out there? One of the first things we
talked about was the fact you had enemies. These people over the years have
tried using Lee and even Aunt Edith to get something they wanted from you. I
never paid attention. It’s not that I didn’t believe you, exactly but I went
from mediocre marine archaeologist to Admiral Nelson’s daughter virtually
overnight.”
“You are not
mediocre. I do not hire mediocre people.”
Serena ignored the
comment and tilted her head slightly to the right as she stared at him. That
was a habit from her mother. “Well?” she prompted.
“I can’t give you
an alphabetical list. Randolph Mason wasn’t even who I was thinking about when
I suggested someone might target you to use against me.”
“Who then? If I’m
going to spent the rest of my life watching my back then it would be nice to
know who and why these people have decided to make my life interesting. It’s
not fair to give me half the information.”
Nelson picked at a
seam in the upholstery of the couch, trying to gather his thoughts and attempt
an informed explanation.
“I’m not sure
where to even start,” he said.
“Then start with
Mason. Who was he? What did he want from you that started this whole thing?”
“That was a
nightmare, let me tell you.”
“Then tell me. I
deserve to know.”
Nelson found his
throat dry. He got to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen, coming back
with an opened beer bottle. He settled back into the couch, took a deep swig
and carefully picked his words.
“It started when
Mason was supposedly shot and killed on national television. His murderer was
me.”
Serena’s eyes grew
wide and she leaned back against the chair, her folded hand tucked between her
knees. “But it wasn’t,” she stated.
“No, it wasn’t.
The murderer was actually Mason himself. He had disguised an assistant as
himself then shot and killed the poor bugger. All the while disguised as me.”
“Admiral, that
makes no sense. Why?”
Nelson paused.
Serena had never used his first name, save once or twice maybe after it was
proven he was her father. Instead she usually referred to him as ‘admiral’,
like Lee and Chip did. She was his daughter. She didn’t have to call him by his
rank. Maybe he’d mention that when he had the chance. Right now she was
beginning to show some interest in the story.
“It was all part
of Mason’s plan to discredit me so he could follow through with his plans. He
had this crazy scheme to harness the power of the tides. In theory it sounded
like a good idea, only the application of his idea had far reaching
consequences that I seriously don’t think Mason considered. I opposed his idea
so he needed me out of the way--hence his plan to credit me with his murder.”
Serena shifted
into a more comfortable position. ”Okay. That part I get. What I don’t get is
how he turns up at my house looking like Lee.”
“Because Mason was
also a master of disguise and, quite possibly, hypnosis.”
Serena raised an
eyebrow in disbelief. “When I snap my fingers, you’ll think you’re a chicken
kind of hypnosis?” she queried.
“Not exactly but
you get the picture. You see, to prove to the press that I had an alibi at the
time of the shooting Lee was going to announce he was with me in my office,
watching the press conference on T.V. Only Mason had Lee kidnapped.”
“Then disguised
himself as Lee while the real Lee was out of the way. Clever.”
“Very. So, Lee
escapes, comes back to the boat, and gets a very chilly reception as the entire
crew saw what they thought was Lee saying he was alone at the time of the
shooting, completely blowing my alibi to pieces.”
“I’ve seen your
crew in action. Nobody touches Lee without them turning into a lynch mob. I’ll
bet they just loved seeing their skipper turn traitor.”
“Well, that was
sorted out eventually. We had to stop Mason’s plan so Seaview set sail
in hope of finding this device he was using and destroy it. What we hadn’t
counted on was picking up an extra passenger.”
“This Mason creep.
Nice. And you said he could look like anybody he wanted.”
Nelson nodded,
taking another pull off the bottle. “That’s right. First he impersonated
Morton, taking Lee’s orders for the course to set and pretty much tossing them
overboard.”
Nelson watched his
daughter react to that little bit of news. Her eyes narrowed and rubbed at the
back of her neck nervously. She recovered by taking a deep breath and
swallowing hard. “So he could look like anyone?”
“First it was Chip
then later we found out he lured Sparks out of the Control Room and took his
place. Like I said, the whole thing was a nightmare from start to finish. When
it was all said and done, Mason was caught and he was found to be mentally
unstable. He never even stood trial.”
Serena raised an
eyebrow. “Unstable. That's one way of putting it. He looked just like Lee. And
when he said Chip had been shot, he just looked at me and asked if I wanted to
join him. I knew something wasn't right. I had no idea, I mean....” She wrapped
her arms around herself, as if she were feeling a sudden chill.
Nelson wanted to
say something but he couldn't find the words to reassure her. He couldn't
promise this wouldn't happen again. There were too many people out there who
had no qualms about using Lee to get to him. His daughter would eventually be
another tool to try and bring him down. Even now he was reminded that he
couldn’t be everywhere at once. There were still marks on Serena’s wrists. Rope
burns, a mark of her kidnapping by Mason. Nelson choked down the rage at not
being able to stop it, at not being able to protect those closest to him. Lee.
Chip. Now Serena.
“Now you
understand why I want you on institute property.”
“That didn't stop
Lee from being taken. And another thing: What happened to keeping our
relationship quiet? You said your staff could be trusted not to blab this to
the world. How the hell did this Mason guy know I was your daughter unless
somebody told him?”
“Well, it didn't
come from the crew and I can swear it didn't come from the staff. A leak maybe...”
Nelson trailed off as he thought. It was the same questioned he'd been asking
himself ever since Serena and Lee went missing. Angie was quietly looking into
the matter and hoped to have some answers by the time they got back.
“I know this
couldn't be kept a complete secret. I know it was going to leak out and I was
ready for that in case somebody started asking questions. But Mason was
supposed to be locked up in a mental facility. How'd he find out?”
“Security is on
that. Right now I don't have an answer. So far the only thing we know is that
he was connected to somebody named Rinaldi. Does that name mean anything?”
Serena blinked,
deep in thought. Nelson clearly saw the shudder she tried hard to repress. She
shook her head but refused to look him in the eyes.
“No. Never heard
of him.”
Another thing Nelson was quickly learning
about his daughter: she was not a very good liar. He didn't press the issue. It
was clear that the name did mean something to her. He filed the information
away as something to pursue at a better time.
“Okay then answer
me one last question.”
The woman gave him
a suspicious look. “Alright.”
“You never had
issues with Lee before. You know it wasn't Lee who attacked you. Why is it so
hard to deal with him now? I saw how you reacted to him.”
Serena closed her
eyes. “It's something I'll work through in time. It's not going to affect my
job. If you don't mind, I’m going to turn in.” She rose to her feet, gathered
her book and glass up before heading toward her bedroom. She was avoiding the
issue. Another trait he had learned about her: if there was something she
didn’t want to deal with she’d simply pack up and leave the room.
“Serena,” Nelson
called out one more time. She froze and turned her head slightly.
“I accept that I'm
your father. I might not accept Liz’s motives then or now but I accept
you. I understand it's not easy. You
don’t have to address me by rank, if it makes things easier.”
“You want me to
address you as 'dad'?”
“Or whatever is
comfortable for you. You can call me Harry. You don't have to address me as
'admiral'. Lee doesn't have to but I suspect I'll never break him off that
habit.”
“Lee respects you
too much to drop to a first name basis. Let me think about that. I'll see you
in the morning.”
“One more thing,”
Nelson knew he was about to stir up a hornet’s nest but in a few days Lee would
be here and he didn’t want him showing up early and scaring the daylights out
of her. “We’re going to have company in
a few days.”
Serena’s confused
frown morphed into a scowl as she put two and two together. “You invited Lee.
What the hell for?” she swore. Nelson raised an eyebrow. Vocabulary must be
something else she'd inherited from him.
Nelson
kept his calm. “Need I remind you that this is my cabin? Lee needs a break and
I invited him up for a few days.”
“Wonderful.
Why don’t you just invite Chip too? If you’re going to bring those two up here,
you might as well have them drag Jamie along,” she snarled. Nelson tried not to
wince. Instead he bit back.
“If you
like, I can invite Chip up as well. I’m sure he could use a break. I’m fairly
certain that Jamie isn’t going to clear either of them for duty anytime soon,
so it’s entirely possible that both of them could be on their way.”
Nelson
was surprised at the brief flash of fear that glinted in the back of her eyes.
Fear of what: Lee or Chip?
“Fine.
You do whatever the hell you want, I'm sure you will anyway. I'm turning in.”
Serena spun around and flounced off down the hall, the slamming of a door
punctuating his daughter’s temper. Nelson sighed. He hadn't counted on her
reacting this badly. But it was the best thing to get the two to interact with
each other. Serena absolutely had to get over whatever issues she had with Lee
Crane.
~<<>>~
The rumble of
thunder drew Nelson from a restless sleep. He couldn’t seem to get comfortable.
One minute he was too hot, the next minute he was freezing. He’d kicked off the covers about half an hour
ago and now another violent shiver raced up his spine.
With the approach
of yet another thunderstorm, Nelson sat up, planting his bare feet on the
hardwood floor. He stood up, surprised at the aches and pains as his muscles
protested the movement.
That’s what you
get for falling into a creek, old man, he thought, moving to the heavy drapes pulled across the full
length window. He took a quick glance outside, just as a flash of lighting
illuminated the night. For a second everything was gilded in the silver,
daylight-bright flash, and then dropped back into the ink blackness of night.
Rain was already pounding on the porch that ran around the entire cabin. Nelson
didn’t dislike the rain but it wasn’t showing any sign of slowing down. There
might be flooding issues. He hoped Lee was careful on his way down.
In the semi-gloom
of the room, Nelson headed for the bathroom for a drink of water. His throat
was a dry as a desert. By touch he felt for the medicine cabinet over the sink
and fished around for a bottle of aspirin. He popped the top and shook three
pills into his hand. He washed them down and replaced the bottle.
This was the third
time he'd been into the bottle. He'd fished two out at lunchtime, careful that
Serena hadn't seen him. It was twenty-four hours after his unscheduled dunking.
He'd been hoping that he hadn't aspirated any water but he could definitely
feel the tightness in his chest and the uncontrollable urge to cough. It would
pass. He hadn't been in the water all that long, he couldn't have taken in that
much. If he took it easy the next few days, he was pretty sure it would go
away. With the rain there really wasn't much he could do but sit around. Jamie
should be happy to hear that.
With a groan
Nelson made his slow way back to bed. Sitting back down on the edge of the
mattress, he was overwhelmed with a deep racking cough. It took a few minutes
to get himself under control. Finally Nelson settled back into bed, pulling the
covers up around him as another chill settled in. All he needed was a few days
rest and he'd be just fine.
~<<>>~
The Jeep was quiet
so far. Chip was driving while Lee sat in the passenger's seat. His gaze
drifted over the countryside as they headed out of the city. The signs of
habitation grew fewer and fewer as they drove towards their destination. The
morning had started bright and sunny but now dark clouds were building, taking
on the same gunmetal gray color as Seaview. The overcast sky lessened
the need for sunglasses but it was somewhat depressing.
Chip glanced over
to his friend on occasion; surprised at one point to see Lee's head tilted
slightly forward, his eyes closed. Chip didn't want to bother him. He hadn't
had near enough sleep in the past few days and even a light nap would do
wonders for him. Instead Chip let his mind drift to the problem at hand and
whether or not his tagging along would actually help things.
Maybe Serena
wouldn't feel so afraid of Lee if there were a buffer between her and him.
Between himself and the admiral, Chip figured they could see to it that the two
interacted but yet had enough space to retreat if things got too close.
What Chip was most
trying to puzzle out was her behavior around him. She interacted with him just
fine, as long as the conversation was in the context of work. Step outside that
line and she changed. She was distant and short with him, and would do anything
to get out of the room. It was almost as if she couldn't stand the sight of
him.
Chip sighed,
keeping his eyes on the road. What did he see in her? Her attitude? Maybe it
was her passion for her chosen field. The admiral was passionate about
conservation of the Earth’s resources, like the ocean. Serena had her own
passion, the preservation of the past.
She was just different from other women he had known. She didn't grovel;
she didn't pretend to be anything more than she was. She was a far cry from
Vanessa.
For not the first
time, Chip lamented his short-lived marriage to Vanessa Anne Case. He’d thought
he was in love. She’d seemed to love him. But she couldn't seem to get it
though her head that he was a man of the sea. He’d thought he had made that
clear but Vanessa could never understand why he didn't get a desk job and work
regular hours.
That sort of life
wasn't for him. He'd known that since he was a teenager. The sea had always
called to him, for reasons he could never explain. Vanessa at first thought
that his job as Seaview's XO was glamorous and would work in her favor
as a career booster. An actress, she was having trouble finding a steady job
and was doing commercials and voice-over work when they met.
When Chip refused
to request a land position, their relationship fell apart. His short-lived
marriage was on the rocks and then he found out about the affair. He couldn't
hire a lawyer fast enough. Vanessa moved back to L.A. Chip heard she’d
eventually landed a part in one of those prime-time crime dramas. Since he
didn't watch TV on a regular basis, he couldn't think of the name of the show.
She had finally gotten the fame she wanted. Chip had gotten his freedom to love
the oceans he was so drawn to.
How would the admiral
react when he showed up with Lee? The question must have been hanging in a
comic strip balloon over his head.
“He won't mind.
Trust me,” Lee said sleepily. He shifted in the passenger's seat, rising up
from his slouched down position.
“Mind reading now?
I thought you were asleep.”
Lee shrugged. “I
sleep with one eye open, you know that. And I know you. You're wondering how
the admiral will like it when you show up. He won't mind. Truth be told, you
need a break as bad as everybody's harping I need one. Serena will be happy to
see you.”
“Lee, she shies
away from me as bad as or worse than she does you. We're fine if it's business
but the second the conversation strays into something personal, she has an
article to edit, or a project to outline or some other convenient excuse. I
don't think she likes me.”
Lee frowned. He
had information to the contrary. Serena might be denying her attraction to Chip
Morton but there was one person who knew Serena as well as Lee knew Chip, and
Lee was currently dating her. Wendy was certain that Serena had it bad for the
exec but for some reason unknown even to Wendy, Serena wasn’t admitting
it.
But Lee also knew
that Chip was too much of a gentleman to step into an arena where he wasn't
totally wanted. Lee changed tactics.
“There must be
another reason. I've seen her react around people she doesn't like. Trust me,
you’d know if Serena didn’t like you. She just doesn't know you yet. She needs
to get past the ‘Iceman’ exterior,” Lee teased.
Chip snorted.
“This trip is about getting the two of you to work out your issues. I'm just
along for the ride. Go back to sleep, Skipper.”
Lee couldn't
resist. “Maybe I should stay wake and make sure you don't get us lost.”
“Just you wait,
Junior,” Chip threatened with a grin. It was good to hear the humor back in his
friend's voice. Over the last few weeks it had been sorely missed. Maybe this
trip would turn out okay.
Overhead, the gray
clouds finally gave up their hold on their cargo and the windshield was soon
dotted with fat raindrops. The drops grew in frequency and what started as a
sprinkle was soon a downpour. Chip flipped on the windshield wipers and focused
his attention on the rain slick roads, dropping his speed back, erring on the
side of caution. However, Lee wasn't quite done.
“I wonder if it's
raining at the cabin,” he said.
Chip shrugged.
“Who knows?”
“Might get
interesting, stuck in the cabin if it's pouring rain. I know the it’s big but
there are four of us. Three bedrooms. You might have to bunk up with somebody.”
An empty paper
coffee cup sailed through the air to bounce off the window. Lee continued to
grin but settled back into his seat, thinking. This might not be a bad trip
after all.
~<<>>~
Serena was not a
morning person. Trying not to yawn, she shuffled her way to the kitchen as she
tightened the belt on the green bathrobe she wore, trying to rub the sleep out
of her eyes and not run into a wall. She was sill troubled by her reaction to
the admiral's announcement that Lee would be joining them soon. Between that
and the thunderstorms she'd gotten little sleep, finally drifting off around
5am. That gave her about two hours of sleep before habit forced her out of bed.
She hated confrontations and last night was still fresh in her mind. She had
acted like a spoiled teenager. Nelson had every right to bring whoever he
wanted up to his cabin. She wasn't sure why she was so resentful. She liked
Lee, really she did. Did she want Chip up here? Not really. What the hell was
she thinking that he might see anything in her? She’d already lost one fiancée
because she refused to change. Chip needed something stable in his life, not
someone who jaunted from ocean to ocean, digging stuff out of the mud and muck.
Maybe she'd get lucky and he'd stay home.
The magnetic draw
of the scent of coffee brewing was curiously absent as she made the corner. The
kitchen was empty, the coffee maker quiet. Puzzled, she moved toward the
counter and began to make a fresh pot. Outside the rain continued to pour down
in a steady patter-patter against the roof and windows.
As the coffee
maker gurgled and bubbled, Serena wondered where her father was. Was he
avoiding her? She couldn't blame him. Maybe he was already up and in the
sunroom, watching the rain. A quick glance into the enclosed nook off the
kitchen proved that wasn't the case.
Concerned, Serena
headed down the hall to her father's room. She found the door closed. She
tapped on the frame, calling out “Admiral,” and listening for his reply. She
couldn't hear anything from the other side of the door. She gave the doorknob a
quick turn and eased the door open.
She found Nelson
apparently just getting out of bed, pulling on his own blue bathrobe. The curtains
were still drawn, shadowing the room in a cozy blue gloom. Serena thought
Nelson looked tired as he glanced at her in the doorway.
“I overslept.
Blasted storm must have kept me up half the night. I was just heading for a
shower,” he said, noting the worry in her eyes. She favored him with a half
smile before answering.
“I'll start
breakfast then. How's French toast sound?”
“Sounds like I
need to hurry up, if I want it hot,” Nelson replied. Serena ducked out of the
room, pulling the door shut behind her.
She spent the next
few minutes in the kitchen, happily cooking. It had been a while since she'd
had the time to enjoy something so simple. She truly loved her position with
the institute but she was busy more often than not and seldom actually took the
time to cook a real meal anymore. Maybe when they got back she might offer to
fix dinner once in a while, and have the admiral over. She might even invite
Lee. Of course, she’d have to invite Chip…she quickly pushed that thought out
of her head and focused on breakfast. She fixed enough French toast to
hopefully put a dent in the admiral's appetite. There were plenty of
ingredients to fix more if necessary.
Nelson still
hadn't put in an appearance. Not too concerned, Serena took her plate into the
sunroom, just off the kitchen, returning to the den for a book she'd spotted in
the bookcase. It turned out to be a book by Nelson himself, one she hadn't
read, on the admiral's study of growing pollution of the world’s oceans. She
took the book to the table and sat, reading between bites of syrupy French
toast, lulled into relaxing by the rhythm of the falling rain.
By the time Serena
came back to reality she was halfway through the book. The rain was still
falling in a gentle drizzle and the admiral was nowhere to be seen. Frowning,
Serena left the book on the table, picked up her empty plate, and went back
into the kitchen. That’s when she saw the time.
It was fully two
hours since she had sat down to breakfast. Two hours since she had seen the
admiral. She dropped the plate into the sink and trotted down the hall. His
bedroom door was closed, just like she had left it. She tapped at the door and
like before, she got no answer. She pushed the door open, not sure what she was
expecting to find. The bed was still unmade and the curtains were still drawn.
The gloom that had been cozy and comforting before had now taken on an ominous
feel in the wake of the missing admiral.
“Admiral?” she
called out again and this time there was a long, low moan, coming from the bathroom.
Serena frowned, and she moved in the direction of the sound. The bathroom door
was half open and what she saw turned her stomach sour.
Nelson was on the
floor of the bathroom, very still. The robe she’d seen him wearing earlier lay
in a heap on the floor and the pajama top was draped over the edge of the sink.
Serena dropped to her knees by his side and touched his shoulder, rolling him
over. While Nelson wasn't a tall man, he was solid and stout. His mass wasn't
something that Serena could simply move around.
The first thing
Serena noticed was that despite his smoking and drinking habit Nelson was in
fantastic shape for a man in his mid-fifties. His deep chest was marked with
scars that proclaimed him a survivor of his past. She could clearly make out
what could only be bullet scars on his left shoulder. From the same incident or
separate encounters, she wondered. She rested a hand the juncture of his
shoulder and neck, feeling the powerful muscles flex under her fingers. His was
the body of a swimmer, the body of a man who was no stranger to hard work. With
his smooth baritone voice and rugged looks coupled with his excellent physique
it was easy to see where he got his reputation as a charmer. Serena had to
remind herself that this man was her father and staring at his broad muscled
chest wasn’t helping him any.
“Admiral, what's
wrong?” she asked, feeling for a pulse and realizing Nelson was burning up with
a fever. His next words confirmed something wasn’t right.
“Too hot in here…” he mumbled. Shaking her
head at the stubbornness of retired admirals, Serena got an arm under his
shoulders. She had to get him back into bed but short of dragging him, there
was no way she could manhandle him off the floor.
“Admiral…Dad, you
need to be in bed. Come on, work with me here,” she urged. Nelson wavered
dizzily, leaning against Serena for support. Slowly he staggered to his feet
and with Serena to guide him, made his unsteady way back to the bed. He sat
down heavily and glared up at her with sullen blue eyes.
“Young lady, I do
not need a nurse,” he grumbled but Serena continued her fussing,
“No,” she replied
tartly, “What you need is a keeper. Is there some kind of contest between you,
Lee, and Chip that I'm not aware of? Or did you just get jealous that they had
a few days in Med Bay and you had to spend time in your office?” Nelson was
being stubborn and refused to lie back down.
“Dad, you’re burning up. Lie back down and just rest, please,” she
urged.
Nelson sighed
deeply and finally relented. “If it makes you happy,” he grumbled and settled
in as Serena pulled the covers up over him. She draped the back of her hand
over his forehead, concerned about his temperature.
“It makes me
deliriously happy. How long have you been running a fever?”
“Taking lessons
from my medical staff now?” Nelson grumbled but Serena wasn’t sidetracked and
stated as much.
“Stop trying to
change the subject. Have you taken anything?”
“Serena, stop
fussing. I’ll be fine in a few hours. I just need to sleep it off,” he groused,
closing his eyes.
Serena rolled her
eyes. Were all men this stubborn or was it something inherent with the number
of stars one had to their name? “You have a fever, you’re not hung-over. There
is a difference.”
Nelson chuckled.
“Let your old man sleep. I’ll be fine in a few hours…I’ll help with dinner…”
Nelson’s voice trailed off as he drifted into sleep. Serena perched on the edge
of the mattress, a little unsure of how to proceed. In all honesty he was
probably right. If he was coming down with something, the best thing she could
do would be to let him rest and make sure he got plenty of fluids. Carefully,
so that she didn’t disturb him, Serena eased off the bed and made a quick
detour to her room for a change of clothes.
Ready to tackle
the rest of the day in a paint-splattered t-shirt and worn jeans with the left
knee blown out, Serena set about to cleaning up the kitchen. With regret she
tossed out the now congealed mess of her father’s forgotten breakfast and the
cold coffee left in the carafe. Once the dishes were cleaned and put away she
inventoried the huge pantry, wondering who had lain in the supplies. They
hadn’t brought all that much with them. The cabin must have a caretaker or
something for when Nelson wasn’t using it. The pantry contained much more than
just food. She found several large, fat white candles in a box in the corner,
batteries of every cell size and a number of flashlights stowed away neatly.
She’d have to remember those if she needed them in the future.
She found several
cans of soup in the pantry. Setting two of them aside on the counter, she
decided that she’d fix those for lunch and see how much she could get her
father to eat. With the kitchen cleaned up she poured herself a glass of juice,
thinking hopefully that would kill the tickle in the back of her throat. She
retrieved her book from the sunroom and moved into the den. Serena looked
around, thinking surely there was a radio somewhere. The man had an
encyclopedia of inventions and books to his name; surely he had something as
common as an average radio somewhere.
After fifteen
minutes of poking and nosing around, she finally found a small portable unit on
the bottom shelf of the bookcase. Finding a handy wall socket, she plugged the
little radio in and spent the next few minutes slowly cycling through various
stations. Serena discovered rather quickly why the radio sat quietly and
untouched on the bottom shelf. This far out, there was virtually no reception.
The cabin was tucked snugly into a valley and any radio signals probably sailed
merry over their heads. With a sigh Serena finally gave up and replaced the
unit where she had found it.
Nothing wrong
with the quiet, she
thought. She picked a nice cozy corner of the couch and settled in to finish
off the book. The juice went a long way to tame the itchy tickle in her throat.
As she read, the rain outside continued to patter against the roof. Serena paid
little attention as the rain slowly picked up in intensity. She also chose to
ignore the sense of tiredness that was slowly creeping up on her. Without
realizing it she closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep as the rain
continued to pound outside.
~<<>>~
“Flash flood
watches and warnings continue into the evening hours with no end in sight for
the next twenty four hours at least. This is the day to stay home and certainly
not a day to be at the beach…” The voice coming out of the radio was cut off as Lee reached over
and switched the radio off.
“I don’t like all this rain. That cabin sits in a valley on the side of
the lake. We could get flooded out if it doesn’t let up soon,” Lee grumbled,
crossing his arms over his chest and staring out the passenger’s side window
Chip was still
driving. They had stopped a few times for a quick break but Chip hadn’t surrendered
the keys and he certainly wasn’t about to let Crane behind the wheel. They were
only about an hour away at this point and Chip was determined to get there
before dark. The prospect of unloading their gear in the dark AND pouring rain
wasn’t one Chip looked forward to. He flicked a quick glance over to the
scowling, dark haired man in the seat beside him.
“The admiral built
that cabin past the highest flood mark he could find on record. The most that’s
likely to happen is the boat dock will go under. Stop worrying.”
“It’s my job to
worry about him,” Lee replied sourly.
Chip snorted.
“No,” he corrected, “it’s your job to worry about the BOAT. Let Serena worry
about the admiral for a little while. She needs the practice. Lee, I know you
and the admiral are close but you can’t be responsible for watching after his
every move.”
Lee turned his
attention from the scenery to the blond driver. “Say that again and remind me
why I’m here and you’re driving?”
This time Chip
grinned but didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Because I am doing my job:
looking after my skipper. Come on Lee, admit it, you’re looking forward to
this.”
Lee shrugged.
“Maybe, in a way I guess. I just don’t like being forced into doing something.”
“Even if it means
helping a friend? This is as much for you as her.”
“But is it helping
her? She has no idea we’re coming, and when I show up, she’s going to freak.
Chip, you weren’t there. She’s terrified of me, and I didn’t do anything to
her!”
“And you’re going
to convince her you don’t bite. Much,” Chip said. Whatever else he was about to
say next was lost as he hit the brake. A long line of cars ahead of him
signaled something wasn't right. Lee pulled himself out of his slouch and
peered ahead.
“A wreck maybe?”
he asked. Chip didn't answer but shut the engine down and pocketed the keys.
“You get to
car-sit. Be right back,” Chip replied and before Lee could reply, Morton had
slid out of the truck and shut the door behind him. Chip darted up the road
through the rain—which had slacked off to a fine drizzle—and vanished in front
of several cars.
Lee glanced down
at his watch, and then turned to look behind him. The road was dark and empty.
He slouched back down, waiting for Morton to come back. He didn't have long to
wait. The blond came jogging back up the road before Lee could get comfortable.
For a split second Lee had the incredible urge to lock the door but since
Morton had the keys, it would be pointless.
Chip slid back
into the truck, a little more damp than when he left. “The road's underwater.
Might be a while before the waters recede enough to let traffic through. I'm
going around.”
Lee sat back up as
Morton started the truck back up and shifted into reverse. Making a U-turn,
Chip turned the SUV around and headed back in the direction they came. Lee
clearly wasn't happy. Chip felt the glare and he turned to glance at his
friend. Lee was staring a hole in the side of his head.
“What? You have
any better ideas? We can't wait here four or five hours till the water goes
down,” Chip reasoned.
“It's another hour
if we go this way,” countered Lee.
“One hour beats
the hell out of five. Look, I'm not happy about it either,” Chip said. “I’m
sure everything is fine. The admiral's not expecting you this early anyhow. It
just gives him and Serena a little more time.”
Lee slouched back
down and braced a knee against the dashboard. “You realize the admiral is
probably telling her a hundred stories about us?”
“About you maybe.
I know how to stay out of trouble.”
Lee couldn't stop
the snort of laughter. “Oh you do? Well, you won't mind it when I tell Serena
about the time you were three-sheets to the wind, on duty, in the Control
Room,” he challenged.
“That was nitrogen
narcosis, I was not drunk, and don’t you dare tell her that!” Chip sputtered as
Lee continued to smirk.
The next hour was
spent much the same. Chip threatened to trot out one embarrassing story about
Lee and Crane would counter with a story of his own. By mutual agreement, they
decided that stories about the admiral would be left alone. He had dirt on the
both of them dating back to their academy days and Nelson was known to play
dirty if he had to.
Chip pulled the
SUV to a halt at the foot of the bridge. Both men stared at the swirling miasma
of dark muddy water rushing under the bridge, all conversation forgotten. Waves
broke over the side barriers, washing across the road. Debris and driftwood
cluttered the road's surface.
“Damn,” Lee
whispered. The power of water was something no sailor ever underestimated. This
bridge was far from safe but it was their only link to the road that would take
them to Nelson's cabin. Lee spared a quick glance toward Chip, grasping the
steering wheel in a two-fisted, white-knuckle grip.
“Copy that…” Chip
replied, his voiced trailing off as he stared at the nightmare in the making.
Glancing up stream, both Lee and Chip could see a massive mat of debris being
pushed along, rising and falling with the current. The water level on the road
was rising even as they watched.
“Shit,” swore the
blond, and he slammed the SUV into drive. He drove his foot into the gas pedal
and the green and gray vehicle jerked forward, over the wooden bridge. With one
eye on the one-lane bridge and one eye on the oncoming mass of debris Chip
pushed the Jeep farther and farther on the bridge. Lee's fingers clutched at
the dash, his whole body tense as the Jeep plowed through rising floodwaters.
The road was covered, but Chip drove on, tires crunching over debris.
With a glance to
the side Chip realized he wasn't going to beat the dangerous pile of rubble
heading for the bridge.
“Hold on,” he said
grimly, hands tight on the wheel. Lee held onto the dash with one hand, the
other tightening around his seat belt. Already the bridge was shuddering under
the oncoming force of the torrent of wild water.
The logjam hit the
bridge with the force of a battering ram. The bridge convulsed under the impact
and Chip gunned the engine. The Jeep shot forward as if kicked. In the rear
view mirror, Lee watched the far end of the bridge rip away from its mooring on
the opposite bank.
“Ah, Chip...”
Lee's voice cracked and trailed off as the timbers ripped free, the sound like
thunder over the roar of the rushing water and drone of the engine. The Jeep
was rocked to the side with the massive power of the floodwaters obliterating
all obstacles before it.
Chip practically
stood on the gas pedal. The tires spun for a second before they found traction
and the Jeep trembled under the strain. The water was up to the wheel wells and
both men could feel the SUV losing traction.
'Come on, come on, come on...” Chip's mantra was barely audible as the
bridge wobbled under the force of the onrushing water and debris. Lee felt his
heart stop as the bridge began to collapse, practically under their wheels.
They hit the
opposite bank and for a gut-wrenching second, the back end of the powerful Jeep
seemed to hang over the disintegrating bridge. Then as if buoyed by the power
of prayer, the tires found traction and the Jeep levered up to solid ground.
Chip shifted down
into park and sat behind the wheel, shaking, his fingers white from their grip
on the wheel. “Lee?' he asked with a tremor in his deep voice.
“Yeah?” Lee's own
voice quivered with something as he stared behind him at the frothing,
debris filled river. The bridge was gone, completely and utterly destroyed.
“Remind me, I
don't do my own stunt work,” Chip said flatly.
“You and me both,
pal. You and me both.”
Without another
word Chip shifted into drive and headed for the cabin at a more sedate pace.
~<<>>~
The sudden crash
of thunder jolted Serena awake. With a jolt she shot off the couch, the book
landing on the floor with a thump. For a second, the young woman had trouble
remembering what was going on and just where she was. She could have sworn the
lights flickered, dimmed and nearly went out. Then as suddenly as they
flickered, the lights recovered and stayed lit.
Dad's cabin...I
must have fallen asleep.
Groggily she rubbed at her eyes, and bent down to pick the book up.
The dizziness that
caught up with her sent her to her knees, clutching the edge of the couch in an
effort to keep from falling over. Blackness licked at the edges of her vision
and she took a few deep breaths to try and get herself under control. When she
was finally able to get to her feet, it was with the admission that she wasn't
feeling too good. The cabin seemed cold to her and she chaffed her arms with
both hands. A glance at the clock made her take a mental step backwards. It was
well past five o'clock. She had totally forgotten about lunch. She staggered
her way toward the kitchen and then stopped, remembering Nelson.
She spun around, a
little too fast. She was dizzy again and she couldn't stop the cough from
burbling up. She leaned against the wall as she tried to control herself,
finally stopping and gasping for air. Deep in her chest she could feel the
first stirrings of a rattle. She ignored it and plowed on to Nelson's bedroom.
She found her
father still in bed. She sat down by his side and rested her hand across his
forehead again. He was still too warm to suit her.
“Dad? Can you hear
me? Wake up for me, please,” she coaxed. One fever-bright blue eye opened,
focused on her, than slowly closed.
“Is it dinner time
already?” he muttered. Serena had to smile. At least he was coherent.
“If you're hungry,
I think we can manage something. Just rest and I'll bring you some soup, okay?”
She brushed a stray tendril of his auburn hair out of his eyes. Only then did
she realize she had the exact same hair color as him...why hadn't she noticed
it before? There were so many things about him that she just never paid
attention to before. Close to him like
this, the similarities between him and her were obvious. The same shape of the
eyes, even if the eye color was radically different. They had the same shape of
the nose, the same cast of the ears. She had never really noticed it before but
somehow this time it was hard to ignore.
“Not so much
hungry as thirsty,” came Nelson's thick reply, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“I can remedy
both. Be right back,” She got to her feet, a little slower this time and the
dizziness didn't launch a sneak attack like before.
Serena made her
way to the kitchen and set to work warming up one of the cans of soup she'd set
aside. She found some onion power and garlic and did her best to try and liven
up the drab canned soup. A little extra garlic never hurt anyone. With a mug of
warm chicken noodle soup and a glass of apple juice, Serena made her way back
to Nelson's room. She was glad to see he was still in bed. It didn't look like
he had tried to move.
She eased down on
the edge of his bed, setting the mug and glass on the bedside table. She
wondered if she should try and get some aspirin down him but she wasn’t sure
how many he might have already had. “Dad, I bought you something to drink.
Think you can sit up if I help you?”
Nelson's eyes
parted, blue slits peering up at her. “I can sit up on my own, young lady,” he
said.
“Of course you
can. Come on then, up with you. You can't drink this lying down.”
The effort cost
him but Nelson pulled himself into a sitting position. He didn't realize until
he was leaning against the headboard that Serena had her arm around his
shoulders, balancing him. He didn't argue with her. Quite frankly, he was dizzy
as hell and if it weren't for her anchoring him, Nelson felt he would probably
have tilted over. He felt Serena's hands on his, closing his fingers around a
warm mug of something. She guided his hand up to his lips and slowly he tilted
the cup back.
The soup was warm
and soothing on his throat, raw from coughing. He could feel the thick broth
sliding down his throat and into his stomach. Despite having told her
otherwise, he was actually hungry. Nelson continued to sip at the broth,
feeling Serena holding him up.
“How are you
feeling?” she asked. For the first time, Nelson really noticed her voice, a
meld of accents almost, not really southern but lacking the inflections of a
more northern accent. He took a deep breath; a cough climbed out of his throat
and he was unable to stop it. Serena held him as he was wracked from within.
Finally the spasm subsided.
“Better?” she
asked. Nelson nodded.
“A bit. You don't
have to baby-sit me,” he replied.
“No, I don't. But
I'm here and you're obviously ill. Jamie will have my hide if I don't see you
take care of yourself. Now; any ideas what brought this on?
Nelson continued
to sip at the broth. “I dropped my lighter,” he said.
“There has to be
more to this story. Dropping a lighter does not send one into a full-fledged
case of pneumonia,” Serena urged. She gently tugged the cup away from her
father and Nelson glared at her.
“I do not have
pneumonia. You are a horrible daughter, you know that?”
Serena smothered a
grin. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Now what happened to make you so sick?”
“I dropped my
lighter and when I went after it, I slipped into the creek,” Nelson replied
sheepishly.
Serena sighed. “I
suppose you aspirated nasty creek water then.”
Nelson snorted,
erupting into another spasm of coughing. Serena held him close as he battled to
control himself. The effort left him weak and shaking. “Not so much. I'll be
fine in a while. Tell Lee, when he gets here, so he won't worry so much.”
Nelson's voice was getting weaker and slumped against Serena for support. She
could feel him slipping deeper into sleep and gently eased him off her
shoulder, settling him back under the covers. He mumbled something she couldn’t
quite make out. Serena paused, listening.
“He’s like my
son…worries more about me…than himself…” he muttered. He had to be talking
about Lee. Serena felt a touch of jealousy once more. Lee knew her father
better than she did. It just wasn’t fair.
“Go back to sleep,
Dad,” she urged. She pulled the covers up over his shoulders and stepped back
as a chill crawled up her own spine. She couldn’t understand why she was so
cold all of a sudden.
Shaking her head,
she staggered back into the kitchen and dropped the empty mug into the sink.
She busied herself cleaning up, throwing the empty soup can away and cleaning
the handful of dishes now in the sink. She continued to fight cold chills and
dizziness. Turning off the kitchen lights, she moved to the den and
contemplated the fireplace. If she could make a fire maybe she wouldn’t feel so
cold.
That decided it
for her. There was a substantial amount of firewood stacked in the corner and
Serena grabbed several logs, building a foundation for a fire. Shortly she had
a fire going, and settled back as the warmth began to seep through the room.
Okay, that was done, what next? Lee was coming but when? Was he on his way?
Could she catch him before he left and tell him Nelson was ill? Then Lee could
get with Jamie and maybe suggest better treatment or better yet, arrange for
Nelson to go back to Med Bay. Since there was no phone in the cabin, that left
her few options. Doing her best to ignore the growing ache in her ears, Serena
made her way back to her bedroom, searching for her purse, forgotten in a
chair. She dug the cell phone out and smothered a moan as the phone registered
no service. Nelson had a cell
phone...she's seen it on the dresser. Launching to her feet and ignoring the
rattle in her lungs, Serena went back to Nelson's room, finding the cell phone
on the dresser just like she remembered seeing it. But his also had no service.
So how did Nelson get information out? Surely he was too canny to seclude
himself without a way to contact anyone. But she hadn't seen anything looking
like a shortwave anywhere in the cabin.
She walked back to
the den, deep in thought. If she were the admiral, where would she hide a
shortwave radio? There were shelves full of books but nothing to indicate a
short wave.
Serena collapsed
on the couch, giving in to a fit of coughing. Feeling exhausted she leaned
back, trying to puzzle out her next move. One thing was certain; her first
priority was Nelson. She needed to keep an eye on him and make sure he kept the
fever down. There was nobody else who could protect him. There had to be a
shortwave somewhere in the cabin, she just had to find it. She was an
archaeologist; she had found things that had been lost for hundred of years or
more. She shouldn’t have a problem finding one measly shortwave radio.
I'll just set
here for a minute she
thought and closed her eyes, thinking only to rest a few minutes. It was
difficult to take a deep breath. The tightness around her chest and the rattle
in her lungs was getting worse. There was a pressure in her left ear and she
had odd crackling and popping sounds when she swallowed. She was still chilled,
and could feel goose bumps rising up over her arms and neck. Curling up on the
couch, she promised herself it was just for a few minutes. Serena drifted off
the sleep, worn down by the worsening symptoms of a growing respiratory
infection.
The first thing she noticed as
she awoke was the hammering in her head and the aching in her muscles. She
tried to bring her hands up to cradle her pounding skull and felt the panic
blossom in her gut. Her hands were tied behind her back and she couldn’t move
her arms. She heard soft laughter and with her heart pounding in her chest, she
jerked her head up to see Lee staring down at her with a leering, oily smile.
She started to snarl what she thought of him and only then did it dawn on her
she’d been gagged. She writhed in the trunk of the small car, trying to lever
herself up.
“You think your
going somewhere, little tramp? Don’t bet on it. I’ve got plans for you, little
slut. I can’t wait to tell your old man.
He’s next, you know. Just imagine the look on his face when I tell him
what I did to you. With Morton dead and you out of the picture and by the very
man he thinks of as a son! What a glorious sight when I put a bullet in his
head!” he laughed as Serena felt her breath quicken, feeling the first
stirrings of terror blossoming in her gut.
Then Lee
slammed the trunk shut. Trapped, the darkness closing in on her, the stifling
heat sent her hyperventilating. With panic clawing at her gut she felt herself
slipping away as blackness creeped in on her.
A crescendo of
thunder jolted Serena awake, the nightmare in tatters as she tried to catch her
breath. Her chest was tight with the effort of breathing and the rattle as
fluid shifted was audible even to Serena at this point. She was burning up and
the room seemed to spin, even though she was standing still.
Something that
sounded like a car door slammed shut. Shaking, she took a step forward then
darted for the door. She hit the deadbolt and backed hesitantly away. Trembling
violently, she swallowed down a tight ball of fear, the nightmare still fresh
in her mind. She didn’t know who was out there but they weren’t getting in.
Something Nelson had said about Lee tickled her memory. Nelson had invited him
up to the cabin—that was it.
But that didn’t
make sense. Lee wanted to kill Nelson…he said so. Serena pulled her courage
together, determined to not let anyone near her father. She wouldn’t let somebody
hurt him. She spun around, clutching at the couch arm for balance as the room
continued to spin. She spotted the black, wrought iron poker in the rack next
to the fireplace. She grabbed it up, testing the weight in her hands. Armed,
Serena staggered to her father’s bedroom, making a quick check on him. He was
still asleep but restless.
“Dad—Admiral, can
you hear me?” she asked, her own voice hoarse in her ears. The sound of her
voice was enough to start up a new pounding in her head. She shook her father,
trying to bring him around but he was unresponsive. She could hear voices now,
in the den. They’d gotten around the locked door and were in the house. It
sounded like Lee. Mason had sounded like Lee, had looked just like Lee. Mason
wanted to kill Nelson, and she couldn’t let that happen.
Gripping the
fireplace poker in a tight single-handed grip, Serena darted for the door as
fast as her balance and waffling vision would allow. She wouldn’t let Mason
hurt anyone anymore.
~<<>>~
It was still
pouring rain again and lightning cut through the dark sky as they pulled the
Jeep up beside the car Nelson had driven up. As Chip shut off the engine, both
men sat in the quiet, listening to the pounding of the rain on the roof of the
truck.
“Where are they?”
Lee queried, watching the still cabin. There was no motion, no sign that
anybody was inside.
“Well, we're not
going to find out by sitting here. Come on, let's brave the elements.”
In tandem, both
men slid out of the Jeep and grabbed their bags from the back seat. Hunched
against the pouring rain, they pounded up the redwood staircase and onto the
relatively drier covered porch.
Lee grabbed the
door handle and twisted, stopping short as Chip nearly ran over him.
“It's locked!” Lee
exclaimed.
“Okay, that makes
no sense...” Chip trailed off as Lee pulled his key ring from his pocket and
sorted through various keys until he found the one he wanted. With a click Lee
had the door unlocked and both damp officers stumbled into the drier and warmer
cabin.
It was quiet. Lee
and Chip dropped their bags onto the floor, taking a good look around.
“Admiral? Serena?”
Lee called out, waiting. There was no answer.
“Lee, I don't like
this,” Chip said slowly, automatically falling two paces behind Lee as Crane
stepped into the den. A fire crackled merrily in the big riverstone fireplace,
chasing away the damp.
Chip, with his
expert eye for detail and near photographic memory, was the first to notice
that the black, wrought iron poker was missing from the set. The small ash brush
and the shovel were there but the poker was gone. When he mentioned it to Lee,
the dark-haired young man could only shrug.
“How should I
know? We just got here,” he complained. “I'll check the bedrooms. Maybe they're
asleep or something. You check the kitchen and the sunroom, just to be sure.”
The two
split up, Lee heading down the hallway as Chip backtracked to the kitchen. The
firelight from the den illuminated the hallway, deepening the shadows and
creating an ominous atmosphere. As Lee neared the room the admiral usually
claimed, a haggard looking figure darted out and slammed the door shut. Serena
glared at him, her back braced against the door jam, the black iron poker from
the fireplace clutched in a two-handed grip like a sword, with the point aimed
directly at Lee.
Her
green eyes glittered with the heat of a fever as she trembled, blocking the
entrance to Nelson's room. In the flicking, diffused light from the fireplace,
she looked disheveled and the dark circles under her eyes, like bruises, stood
out in sharp relief against her pale skin. Serena was obviously a very sick
young lady but it didn't stop her from trying to protect her father.
Lee
swallowed back the bile rising in his throat, seeing the terror in her eyes
swim to the surface once more.
“You
stay away from him. I won't let you hurt him,” she said, her voice hoarse and
rough.
Lee
raised his hands to show he wasn't armed. “Serena, I'm not going to hurt
anyone. I'm just trying to help. Where’s the admiral?” Lee asked cautiously.
A shudder
ran through Serena’s body and the iron rod wavered a second. Lee almost made a
lunge for her but Serena steadied, glaring at him. There was no doubt that Lee
could wrestle the instrument out of her hands but, in her state of mind, he
risked breaking whatever trust he had hoped to build in her.
“You
tried that once before. I’m not falling for it again.” Another tremor shook her
just as Chip came around the corner.
“Lee,
you do know how to make an impression,” Chip said quietly as Serena focused
glazed green eyes on him.
“Chip?”
she whispered, her eyes darting from Lee back to Chip. “But you’re dead. Lee
said…Mason said he’d killed you.”
“No,
sweetheart, I’m not dead. I’m fine, see?” Chip took a slow step forward so
Serena could get a full look at him. Thankfully the injuries he was still
recovering from were tactfully hidden under his clothes. She shook with the
effort of staying on her feet. Chip thought quickly, trying to come up with
something she would believe.
“Mason
is dead. He’s not going to hurt you or the admiral. This isn’t Mason, it’s Lee.
You know Lee. You know me. Now, put the poker down, honey. We just want to help
you and the admiral. But you have to put the poker down first.”
“You’re
really Chip? He’s really Lee? He’s not pretending?” Serena’s voice shook as she
spoke.
“I
swear to you, it’s really us. The man that pretended to be Lee is dead. Please,
you have to believe us. ” Chip's voice was calm and quieting as he spoke.
Serena focused on him and blinked.
Lee
took a step forward with an outstretched hand. “Chip wouldn’t lie to you. You
know that. Have Chip or I ever lied to you?”
Serena’s voice wavered. “No, you’ve never lied…to me…”
“Lee,
catch her!” Chip’s shout galvanized Lee into action. Serena’s eyes rolled into
the back of her head and she went limp. Lee had just enough time to grab her
around the waist before she completely collapsed. The fireplace poker slipped
from her nerveless fingers and bounced harmlessly on the hardwood floor.
“Chip,
she’s burning up.” Lee said has he lifted her off her feet. Lee carried her
down the hall to the first room he came to and gently settled her down on the
bed. The heat seemed to pour from her frail body, wracked by shivers and muscle
spasms.
“Lee,
the admiral’s in the same condition,” Chip said from the doorway, his blue eyes
dark and cloudy with worry.
Lee
darted past the blond as he bolted toward the room Serena had been. He paused
at the doorway just long enough to glance behind him. “Look after her,” he
tossed toward Morton as he headed into Nelson’s room. He found the older man in
bed, mumbling incoherently as he tossed his head back and forth.
“Admiral?
Sir, it’s me. It’s Lee, can you hear me?” Lee was shocked at the condition
Nelson was in. Like Serena, the heat radiated from Nelson’s stocky frame like a
generator. He didn’t seem to hear Lee as he tossed, muttering snatches of
incoherent phrases, some in English, and others in languages Lee couldn't
identify, much less translate. One thing Lee did know: the admiral's
temperature was way too high and they needed to do something to bring it down.
Lee
shed his leather jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Next he eased down
beside the admiral, draping the back of his hand over Nelson's forehead. Lee
frowned. Where the hell had this fever come from? He was fine before they left
the institute.
“Sir?
Admiral, can you hear me? It's Lee,” Lee tried again. The admiral tossed
fitfully, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He seemed to claw for air. Listening,
Lee could hear the rattle as fluid shifted and burbled in Nelson's lungs. A
respiratory ailment? The flu? Pneumonia? Did Serena have the same thing? Was it
contagious?
Lee
made his way to the bathroom, retrieving a washrag from the towel rack and soaking
it in cool water from the tap. He found a glass on the counter and in the
cabinet he found a bottle of aspirin. He shook two tablets into the glass then
filled the glass about a quarter of the way full of water, enough to dissolve
the tablets. He came back and sank down by Nelson’s side, gently washing the
sweat and heat away from Nelson’s face, neck and exposed chest. The older man
hadn’t shaved in a least a day and his jaw was covered with thick stubble.
Somehow it only added to the character of Nelson’s craggy features. Lee paused,
seeing the small, faded bullet scar. A scar Nelson wore because of him, the
result of another experiment gone wrong3.
He slide his arm under Nelson’s shoulders, rising the older man up enough so
Lee could get the glass to his lips. The admiral obligingly drank enough of the
mixture to make Lee happy. Gently he lowered Nelson back to the mattress.
Lee
repeated his actions and Nelson seemed to calm, stopping his restless tossing
and incoherent mumbling. Lee folded the now warm damp washcloth on the
nightstand and took a deep breath.
There
were a million things to do. They could get a message out to the institute
using the shortwave. Sharkey or Kowalski could bring Jamie up in FS1 as soon as
they had a break in the weather and they could fly the admiral and Serena back
to Med Bay where they belonged.
With
that goal in mind Lee cast one brief glance towards his employer, resting
quietly for the moment. Time to get the shortwave up and running and summon the
cavalry.
~<<>>~
Serena
was muttering something in her fevered state, something that Chip couldn’t make
out. She was agitated and Chip somehow had to calm her down so she would rest.
Gently, he rested the back of his hand across her forehead, pushing an errant
lock of hair away from her eyes. She was burning up with fever.
He went
to the bathroom and came back with a cool, damp washrag and a thermometer. He
slipped the slender tool between her slightly parted lips, hoping for a quick
reading. Gently, he washed away the sweat beading up on her forehead; drawing
the cool cloth around her exposed neck and chin then across her bare arms. As
he worked, Chip began to talk to her, trying to calm her down. He could reach
Lee when he was sick and feverish, maybe he could reach through to Serena.
“Everything’s
okay now. Just relax and let us take care of everything. You did great with the
admiral; now just settle down. Let Lee and me take care of you now,” he said.
He pulled the thermometer out, holding the instrument up to the light. 103
degrees. Chip swore under his breath and set the thermometer aside. He ran the
washcloth over her forehead and neck again, noticing the tiny little details
he’d never paid attention to before. The way a stray tendril of hair curled in
the opposite direction as the rest of her auburn locks, as if it had a mind of
its own. The color of her eyelashes, the way her nose was slightly freckled,
the collection of tiny scars on her neck. How would she react to him if she
were aware of what he was doing? He didn’t mind taking care of her. He really
wanted to just gather her up and hold her, to make her see no one was going to
hurt her. Poor girl, she’d already been through so much and now this.
Serena
slowly seemed to calm down, her breathing eased and she stopped her restless
tossing. Her meaningless mutterings grew less and less until she finally grew
quiet. She was still warm though and Chip figured she’d get agitated again
before her fever broke.
What on
earth was wrong with her? She sounded congested and she seemed to be having
trouble breathing. That, coupled with the fever, seemed to indicate an
infection but where had she gotten it?
A sound
from the doorway pulled Chip’s attention away from the young woman. Lee was
standing in the doorway.
“How is
she?”
Chip
glanced back at Serena. “Running a fever. Agitated but she’s calmed down for
the minute.”
Lee
nodded. “Before you ask, the shortwave is fried. Toasted the surge protector. I
was going to ask you if there might be anything you could do with it. You’re
better at that stuff than me.”
Chip
growled something unpleasant under his breath. “I’ll look at it but I can’t
promise anything. Can’t hurt to make an effort though. How’s the admiral?”
“Feverish—like
Serena. I got him calmed down but he—they—need to be in a hospital. We need
Jamie and the one time I need him, I can’t get to him.” The frustration made
itself clear as Lee ground out the final words of that last sentence.
“Easy,
Lee. We’ll get them some help. Think you can keep an eye on them both while I
tackle the shortwave?”
Lee
nodded. Chip stood up, feeling cramped muscles protest from hours of driving.
“Has
she come around?” Lee asked. Chip shook his head.
“No.
She’s pretty well out of it. I don’t even know if she’ll remember. She was just
trying to protect the admiral. She thought you were Mason.”
Lee’s
eyes were clouded with shadows. “I know,” he began softly. Chip heard the words
but he knew Lee was having a hard time believing them.
“Lee,
listen to me. Mason tormented you with what he was going to do to you and her.
What do you think she went though? What did he say to her? We might never know
but whatever it was, she needs to know that you aren’t going to hurt her now.
You have to stay with her and make her see that. She won’t give me the time of
day but you still stand a chance of reaching her.” Chip’s words were like a
slap in the face to Lee and he jerked up, a spark of something in his eyes.
“Damn
Mason. If the admiral hadn’t shot him I’d like to…” Lee’s words trailed off as
Serena began coughing again. Chip grabbed Lee by the shoulder.
“I
know. Watch after her. You can get through to her--I know you can. So does the
admiral, else he would never have suggested you come up here. I’ll check on
that shortwave.” Chip gave Lee’s shoulder a squeeze and, with a quick glance
back to Serena, he made a hasty exit.
Lee
eased down into the edge of the bed, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. Serena
hated him, she couldn’t look him in the eye, and she couldn’t stand to be
around him. Damn Mason, what the hell did he do to her?
“Serena?”
Lee called out softly to her, not expecting an answer but hoping somehow that
she heard him. “I’m not going to hurt you, you have to understand that. Mason
is the one who hurt you before and he’s dead. He’s not coming back and he’s not
going to hurt anyone again. Not you, not the admiral. I’m not Mason.”
One
green eye opened to a mere slit. Slowly the other eye opened and two green
slivers blinked at him.
“Lee?”
her voice was rough and raspy from coughing. Lee smiled reassuringly.
“You
remember me?” he asked.
“When
did you get here?” she muttered. Chip was right. She didn’t remember. It was
just as well.
“Little
while ago. Just take it easy. Think you can manage to eat something? Maybe some
soup?”
“Not
really hungry. Go…ch-check on Dad.”
Dad?
She's calling him Dad now? “He’s fine. You need to eat something. I’ll
be back with something you and the admiral can handle.”
That’s
the moment the power chose to fail. Everything was bathed in blackness and
there was a strangled gasp as Serena noticed the darkness.
“It’s
okay, just a power outage. We have a generator. Won’t take a minute to get it
up and running. Chip’s probably already checking on it. Settle down,” Lee
soothed, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“You
promise the power will come back on?” the question made her sound like a small
frightened child rather than an adult. Lee tried to be reassuring.
“Any minute
now. All Chip has to do is get the unit started and we can have lights. We’ve
got plenty of candles and battery-powered lanterns if something happens and he
can’t get it started up. Chip’s not crazy about the dark either, trust me.
He’ll get the lights back on.” Lee’s words were like a prophecy. It took a few
minutes but finally there was an audible click throughout the cabin and the
light flared to life. Lee was surprised to see the abject look of terror in
Serena’s eyes but this time the terror didn’t seem to be directed at Lee.
Slowly the fear faded as the lights stayed on.
“See?”
Lee encouraged, “it’s the reason I let Chip tag along. He’s a useful kind of
guy. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”
Not waiting
for an answer, Lee left the younger woman to rest and made his way down the
hall, toward the kitchen, catching a glimpse of a thoroughly wet and bedraggled
Chip Morton standing just inside the back door. His blond hair was dark with
the rainwater now dripping onto his broad chest and shoulders. Chip glanced up
through wet bangs, water dripping off his eyelashes as he struggled with the
wet denim jacket. It landed with a splat on the floor. Next he grabbed the
bottom of his blue polo shirt and pulled the wet material over his head,
dropping it into the same heap as the jacket, all the while heeling out of his
drenched shoes. Goosebumps were starting to jump to attention over his bare
arms and chest. He pulled his belt free of the loops and unbuttoned his jeans.
His left arm was still stiff, the scar from Mason's bullet still healing.
“Look, it’s
a soggy Chip,” Lee teased with a grin.
Chip scowled
as he dropped into the nearest chair and started to pull his socks off. “A
towel would be nice right about now,” he groused as he ran a hand through his
wet hair, pushing blond locks out of his eyes. Lee vanished into the small
laundry room just off the kitchen and came back with two big beach towels. Chip
grabbed one and did his best to dry his hair then draped the towel across his
shoulders. Next he concentrated on his jeans. Wet denim didn’t give up without
a fight.
Lee couldn’t
stop himself. “My kingdom for a camera. The crew would never believe this, you
looking like a drowned rat,” he smarted off as Chip fought with the thick
material. He managed to work the waistband down to his knees then grab one cuff
at a time, peeling the blue denim off his long legs.
“You want
another wet sock lobbed at you, boy?” Chip growled.
“No thanks.
Wet, stinky sock up the side of my head would put a damper on my vacation.
Everything okay with the generator?”
Chip tossed
his liberated jeans and briefs into the pile of clothes on the floor and
wrapped the second towel around his narrow waist. He stood up, the scar on his
side where Mason’s second attempt to kill him had plowed through very visible
against his own peach-toned skin. “Everything’s fine. Started up like a charm.
We’ve got plenty of gas so we shouldn’t have to worry about it for twelve hours
at least. ” A violent shiver coursed through Chip’s body, rattling his teeth.
He gripped the towel around his shoulders, pulling it closer around him as he
tried to stave off the encroaching chill.
Lee
noticed the shiver and pointed down the hall. “Den. Now. Get warmed up and find
some dry clothes. I don’t need you to come down with something as well,” he
ordered. Chip pulled the towel tighter around his shoulders and left Lee alone
in the kitchen as he plodded off to the den. Lee gathered up Chip’s wet pile of
clothes and carried them into the laundry room. He dumped the pile on top the
dryer, promising to get to them later, and went back to the kitchen.
Lee
surveyed the cans of soup on the counter. It looked like Serena had planned
ahead, pulling a few cans of chicken noodle and some cream of chicken. Lee then
noticed the lidded pot sitting on the stove. Figuring it hadn’t been sitting
there very long, he switched on the burner to warm it up. He stirred the soup
as it warmed, noticing it didn’t quite smell like canned chicken soup. The jars
of onion powder and chopped garlic caught his attention. Serena must have
doctored the soup, adding a little extra to help the taste along. Chip did the
same thing, saying that canned soup tasted bland. She could have picked up the
trick from Wendy. Lee tested the now hot broth and found it wasn’t half bad
then set the pot on a cool burner. He pulled two mugs from the cabinet and
ladled soup into each mug. He’d try to get the admiral to eat something as
well.
He
passed the den, seeing Chip re-dressed in dry jeans and a new tee shirt. “There’s
warm soup in the kitchen. Serena seems to have borrowed your trick and doctored
it up with garlic already.”
“Thanks,
I’ll get some in a minute,” Chip said distractedly, his attention focused on
the collection of wires and circuits spread out in front of him. Lee knew if he
didn’t remind him, Chip would forget all about food while he focused on trying
to fix their link with the outside world. Chip was the first to harass his
skipper into eating. The problem was, when faced with a similar situation, Chip
was just as likely to overlook things like food and sleep till the job was
done.
Lee
made a quick check on Nelson first. He was sleeping, still feverish but not as
restless as he was earlier. Lee sat one mug on the table beside the bed. He let
the older man sleep, loath to wake him just yet. He’d check back once he had
Serena taken care of.
Lee
made his way down the dark hallway to Serena’s room. He shouldn’t have been
surprised to find his boss’s stubborn daughter out of bed and trying her best
to make it across the floor. She had a bundle of clothes clutched to her and
she was trying to stay on her feet, clutching at the dresser for support.
“Sweetheart,
you shouldn’t be out of bed,” Lee tried in as soothing a voice as he could
muster. He still remembered Serena holding an iron poker on him and Chip as she
tried to protect the admiral. Serena just turned red-rimmed green eyes up at
him.
“I need
to change clothes. You can’t help me with that,” she said in a very weak voice
and shuffled across the floor to the small bathroom.
It felt
like years before the bathroom door opened and Serena staggered out, pale and
shaking. She had changed out of the jeans and tee shirt Lee had found her in
and was now wearing a pale green nightshirt. Serena glanced back at him as she
made her very slow way across the floor.
“If I’m
going to be sick, I’m at least going to be comfortable,” she muttered. Lee took
a few steps forward to offer his help if she needed it but, like her father,
she was determined she could do this on her own, waving him off with a
dismissing hand. Obviously she’d over-exerted herself and she clutched at the
dresser to keep from falling over. Lee couldn’t stop himself. He caught her
around the waist and carefully lifted her off the ground.
He saw
her eyes close and felt every muscle in her body tense, going rigid with the
effort of not panicking. Lee crossed the distance to the bed quickly and sat
her down. As he backed away, the collection of scars on her right leg caught
his eye. Serena caught him staring and as quickly as she could move, she pulled
the covers over her bare leg.
“Those
are from your accident, aren’t they?” Lee asked.
Serena’s
eyes narrowed. “You know they are.”
“You
just don’t talk about it. It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up,” Lee
commented, hoping to bridge the gap between her accident and Mason. He was
taking a chance by prying into her personal affairs. She might not appreciate
him poking around in her past.
She
pulled her gaze away from him and curled back up in bed. “And what would you
know about keeping things bottled up, Lee Crane?” Definitely some resentment
there. Lee thought quickly on how to respond.
“It’s
not the scars that make up who we are.”
Serena
frowned. “Funny, I don’t see you coping with a limp or irrational fears,” she
snapped. Yes, he had definitely hit a nerve. Irrational fears? He remembered
her panic when the lights went out. A fear of the dark? Was Serena afraid of
the dark? Anything was possible. That decided him. He began unbuttoning his
shirt, watching as Serena’s eyes tracked the movement of his fingers. She
didn’t say anything but the puzzlement was clear. He expected her to comment
but she remained quiet as he unbuttoned his shirt enough to expose his right
shoulder. Lee sat down on the edge of the bed. Serena shifted to give him room.
“Touch
my shoulder,” he said quietly.
She
stared, not moving. “Why?”
“Just
humor me. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m trying to make a point. Go ahead.”
Timidly,
Serena reached out with slightly trembling fingers, folding her hand around
Lee’s shoulder, feeling muscle, bone, and finally the small, neat round scar.
Her thumb and forefinger traced the round imperfection slowly. Lee remained
still while her fingers worked. He didn’t wait for her to voice the question.
“I was
kidnapped and kept for three days while I was brainwashed. When I was let go I
was expected to sabotage Seaview’s mission, and if that didn’t work, I
was supposed to kill the admiral. They had to shoot me to stop me.4”
Serena
pulled away as if shocked by a sudden spark of electricity. “I…I didn’t
know…Lee, I’m sorry,” she stammered but Lee shook his head.
“Don’t
be. It’s not your fault. But you see, for a long time, I thought it was my
fault. I could have killed the admiral. I tried, actually. I figured after
that, he wouldn’t want me around him, that he wouldn’t be able to stand the
sight of me. I mean, you can’t trust someone who tried to kill you, right?”
Lee
watched as the impact of his words connect. She pulled back and leaned against
the headboard, folding her arms over her chest, one fist moving up to press
against her mouth and chin; a defensive and closed posture.
“How
did you work though that? How did you get him to trust you after that?” she
finally asked.
“The
funny thing is, the admiral thought I had lost faith in him. He felt he hadn’t
been as supportive of me as he should have been. He blamed himself for being so
caught up with the mission to not notice something was wrong with me. He though
that I wouldn’t want any further association with him, since he was so
self-absorbed to see something was obviously wrong with his friend. Chip kept
pushing to get the two of us to talk about it.”
“Morton’s
a bit stubborn, I’ve noticed.”
Lee
chuckled. “You’ve no idea. But it worked. What I’m saying is that you can’t
keep stuff bottled up. You have to let off some steam at some point. I’m lucky.
Chip thinks he’s my big brother and makes it a point of harassing the snot out
of me until I don’t have a choice but to unload. The admiral, he always knows
what’s bothering me and somehow gets me to open up when I need to. We all need
somebody like that. Don’t underestimate Jamie either. I won’t have anyone else
as a doctor, despite the fact we don’t always see eye to eye.”
Serena
looked like she was about so say something but a fit of coughing caught her and
left her weak and shaking. Lee pressed the mug of warm soup into her hands and
she slowly sipped, letting the broth ease her sore throat. When the mug was empty, she surrendered it
back to Lee and eased back down under the covers. “What happens next?” she
asked, her rough voice cracking on the last word.
“We’re
trying to contact Jamie at the institute now. Cell phones aren’t picking up in
this weather and lightning ran in on the shortwave. Chip’s trying to get it
back into working order.”
Serena
frowned in confusion. “I knew there had to be one somewhere.”
“It’s
in a panel, behind a line of books. I’ll show you later. Right now, just relax
and rest. Chip will have it up and working in no time.”
Serena
sighed and closed her eyes, giving in to the overwhelming fatigue that seemed
to have settled into her bones. She felt herself drifting off and thinking
about Chip. His glowing blue eyes, like the deepest lake, and the way he
smiled…
“It’s
nice…that Chip came along,” she mumbled. Lee leaned in closer to listen, not
even sure if she was aware of what she was saying.
“He’s
handy to have in a pinch,” Lee replied quietly, tucking the blanket in around
her.
“He’s
very nice. He deserves somebody…nice….”
“Serena,
have you got a crush on my best friend?” Crane asked, teasing her. Serena let
out a long deep sigh.
“Won’t
work…,” she muttered softly. “He needs somebody better…not some mediocre
archaeologist…with a limp….who’s afraid of the dark.”
Lee
frowned. Serena grew quiet and her breathing slowed. She had drifted off to
sleep, finally. He took a step back, both physically and mentally. Was that
what was wrong? Serena didn’t think she was good enough for Chip? The admiral
was bound to have some things to say about that if he ever found out. He’d been
right though. She was afraid of the dark. He wondered if Jamie was aware of it,
or if she’d kept it a secret from him as well. Jamieson wouldn’t take the fact
that Serena had hidden important medical information from him well at all. He
took his job seriously.
Puzzled
by the way Serena’s mind seemed to work, Lee picked up the empty mug and headed
to check on Nelson.
The
admiral was still sleeping, quiet without the restless tossing Lee had seen in
him earlier. Lee was still reluctant to wake him, knowing that rest was the
best thing for him. He picked up the still warm mug and thought of a better use
for it.
He
found Chip still immersed in wiring. He sat the mug on the table. Chip tilted
his head up, an eyebrow raised in question.
“Drink
it. It won’t kill you. You need something warm in you to combat the chill.”
“Pushy,
aren’t you? Even without the uniform,” Chip grumbled but picked up the cup and
sipped at it. His expression changed as he realized it didn’t taste like canned
soup. Then he remembered Lee said that Serena had tinkered with it. “Not half
bad. Is that onion?” He sipped again, testing.
“Onion
powder. It was on the counter. There’s more where that came from. How’s it
coming?”
“Slow.
Fried, crispy critter is what we have here. This ain’t gonna be easy. Be
thankful I’m not charging you. How’s Serena?”
“She’s
a little better. I caught her out of bed.”
Chip
jerked his head up, his hands freezing. “What was she doing out of bed? She has
a temperature of a hundred and three. She doesn’t need to be up roaming
around.”
“Easy
there, pal. She’s back in bed and she’s fine. She wanted to change into
something more comfortable than the clothes she was wearing.” Lee tried not to
smile at the protective mode Chip had suddenly shifted into. Yeah, he was
hooked. The trick was getting Serena to see that.
“Oh,”
was Morton's answer as he turned his attention back to the shortwave parts
spread out on the table before him. While his fingers worked, his brain shifted
gears, trying to imagine what Serena considered comfortable. She didn’t seem
like the fancy, lacy type of person. She was simple, unassuming. She didn’t
like attention. Chip figured something modest, a plain nightgown maybe.
Something that hid her curves? He liked Serena’s curves; not too skinny, a
little rounder than Vanessa had been. But Vanessa was always on a diet, always
counting calories, always conscious of how she looked. Chip had heard Serena
comment once that she didn’t trust any word with the letters D I E hidden in
it. He noticed that Lee was still watching him, and then Chip realized his hands
were still. Thinking about Serena, he’d stopped working.
“It was
green,” Lee said with a grin. Chip snorted.
“What
was green?” he asked with a grumpy tone and tried to refocus on his work.
“Serena’s
nightgown. It was green. I’ve noticed she wears a lot of green. If you need me,
just give me a yell.”
With
that Lee turned and left Chip alone with the shortwave and his thoughts. Chip
shook his head, thinking about Serena. He’d also noticed that she tended to
wear a lot of green. Her favorite color? Green went well with her auburn hair
and those eyes.
Chip
shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Get your mind back on your work,
mister. You can daydream later. But Chip couldn’t totally push her out of
his mind, and he wondered if one day she might consider him more than just
someone she worked with.
~<<>>~
Nelson’s
temperature was on the rise again. Lee picked up the damp washcloth and ran it
under cool tap water once more. He settled down in the chair by Nelson’s side,
keeping watch over his employer and repeating his earlier actions of wiping the
sweat from Nelson’s forehead, trying to keep his temperature down to something
manageable. With Lee’s touch Nelson stirred and opened fevered blue eyes.
“Not
exactly my idea of a nurse but I suppose you’ll do,” Nelson said, his normally
vibrant voice a shadow of its normal self.
Lee
heaved a sigh of relief and allowed a small smile. “How are you feeling, sir?”
“Like
I’ve been run over. Can’t recall feeling this bad since that lay-over in Hong
Kong, with Jiggs…Did I ever tell you about that?”
Lee
chuckled. “No sir, I believe I would have remembered that story.”
“Remind
me to trot it out the next time we’re graced with his presence. Keeps the old
goat humble,” Nelson replied as a round of coughing shook his whole body. He
was shaking and breathless when it was over.
“We’re
working on getting a hold of Jamie. We’ll get you some help in no time.”
“I
would imagine I’ve worried my daughter and my captain as well,” Nelson said.
Lee
nodded. He folded the damp cloth in half, and laid it on the nightstand. Nelson
watched him, his eyes curious.
“Just a
bit, sir. You’ve both been running a pretty high fever since we got here.
Serena was delirious. She didn’t know me. Or rather, she thought I was still
Mason and he was trying to hurt you. Took us a bit to convince her otherwise.”
“Us? I
assume you have a blond sidekick somewhere? Jamie exercised his rank and kicked
you both off base, I take it. And how on earth did she get sick? I’m not
contagious, am I?”
Lee
grinned. “Yes sir. Chip drove us up here. Lightning fried the shortwave and
Chip’s been working to get it repaired. We don’t know what Serena has. She’s
resting now.”
“Like I
should be?”
“I
wasn’t going to say that, sir,”
Nelson
snorted. “You don’t have to. I’ve known you far too long to not know some of
what goes through that head of yours.” Another round of coughing left Nelson
weak.
“We
need to get you back to Med Bay before you get any worse,” Lee started. Before
he could continue, a deep rumble seemed to shake the entire cabin. A tremendous
crash shook the foundation and rattled the light fixtures. Once more the entire
cabin was plunged into darkness.
“What
the devil was that?” Nelson growled, rising out of bed.
“I
don’t know. Something must have happened to the generator,” Lee guessed and got
to his feet. First off they needed light.
Guided by touch
and instinct Lee made his way to the closet, finding the lantern and its
batteries on the top shelf. He popped the casing open and dropped the batteries
into the empty cavity, trying to remember which slot held negative and which
was positive. He got lucky on the first try. The lantern flared to life and Lee
set the unit on the nightstand by Nelson’s bed.
“I’ll
see what happened. Please, just stay here. I’m sure it’s a simple fix,”
“Be careful, Lee.”
“Yes sir,” Lee
said and grabbed his leather jacket from where he’d abandoned it earlier then
headed toward the den. Chip was already in the hall, a flashlight in one hand,
the beam playing across the floor.
“Are you going or
do I draw the short straw?” Chip asked.
“You’ve already
been out once, I’ll go. Do me a favor; get a battery-powered lantern, and set
it in Serena’s room. She’s afraid of the dark but you didn’t hear that from
me.”
Chip blinked.
“She’s afraid of the dark? Are you sure?”
“Trust me. This
shouldn’t take long—probably the power cable came loose or something. The
admiral’s up. Make sure he stays in bed,” Lee said as he ducked out the back
door into the elements. For a second Chip just stood in the hallway, flashlight
in one hand and a puzzled expression on his face.
“Keep him in bed,
he says. Yeah, right. What am I, a miracle worker?” he grumbled and trudged off
towards Serena’s room. He paused and made a detour towards the admiral’s room.
He wasn’t surprised to find the older man sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Ah, sir, maybe
you should lay back down. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be up and
about right now.”
“Humph,” came the
characteristic snort. “I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.”
Chip tried not to
sigh. “Yes sir. I’m sure Doctor Jamieson will understand completely.”
Nelson growled.
“That’s playing dirty, Mister Morton,”
“I learned from
the best. Sir.”
“Now you’re
getting just plain nasty. Go on, I’m fine. Go…go check on Serena. Lee said she
wasn’t feeling well.”
“Aye sir, on my
way,” Chip retorted smartly, resisting the urge to once more ask his employer
to take it slow. He knew the admiral would do damn well whatever he pleased,
and telling him to stay in bed where he belonged would be pointless.
Chip found Serena
curled up and sleeping peacefully. If Lee was right and she was afraid of the
dark, the last thing he wanted was for her to wake up and panic if she realized
the power was out. Moving quietly, he retrieved the lantern from the closet
shelf and managed to get it working. Chip sat the lantern down on the bedside
table and sat down beside Serena. She stirred and sighed softly.
“Lee?” she asked
fuzzily. Chip frowned.
“No, it’s Chip.
Just checking to see how you’re doing.”
“Fine. Sleepy. You
don’t have to stay,” she muttered and snuggled down into the covers more. Chip
sighed. Like always, she was pushing him away again. He stood about as much a
chance as a snowball in Santa Barbara—in July.
Chip got to his
feet and walked slowly down the hallway. What was keeping Lee? The power
flickered on once then died again. Lee must be having trouble with the
generator. Well, another trip outside certainly wouldn’t kill him. He could
change clothes again. If Lee had run into a problem, it might take two sets of
hands to fix whatever was wrong.
That decided Chip.
He paused outside of Nelson’s room. “I’m going to see what’s keeping Lee. He
might need a hand.”
“I warned him to
be careful,” Nelson grumbled. He was pulling on his robe and moving slowly for
the door. He noticed the disapproving glare the executive officer was giving
him. “I didn’t get four stars by being reckless. I’m tired of lying down and
I’m going to sit in the den. I trust that meets with your approval?”
Chip smothered a
smile. “Yes sir. There’s soup in the kitchen. It would make my job easier if I
could tell Jamie I knew you had a hot meal.”
“I suppose lying
is out of the question,” Nelson grumbled, pushing past Chip and into the hall.
“Have you ever
lied to Jamie?”
“Once and he
caught me at it. We’ll wing it then. Go make sure Lee hasn’t bitten off more
than he can chew.”
Chip retrieved his
damp denim jacket and slipped it on, wincing at the cold feel of the sodden
material on his skin. With his flashlight in a tight grip he ventured outside
into the rain.
The heavy downpour
had eased up, coming down now as a steady, light rain. Chip rounded the corner
of the cabin and stopped dead in his tracks.
A huge cedar tree
was lying across the path, its branches splayed across the outer wall of the
cabin. Much closer and the trunk would have taken out the entire wall. More
importantly, the tree was lying directly across the generator. Lee was nowhere
to be seen.
“Lee?” Chip
bellowed his friend’s name, hoping for an answer. Already he was thinking the
worst. Morton clambered over the tree truck, finally able to see the bulk of
the generator through the tangle of broken limbs. Sliding through the mud, Chip
dropped to his knees, trying to find the power cable that ran to the cabin.
There was still no sign of Lee.
Chip groped around
in the slime, trying to feel for the cable under the mass of greenery when his
hand found something that wasn’t the power cable; a hand. Chip could feel limp
fingers and his heart came to a screeching halt when he felt the familiar ring
that Lee always wore.
“Lee!” Chip’s
screech of near panic cut through the air as he clawed at the branches, trying
to reach his friend. The rain continued to come down and by now Chip was a
soggy, filthy mess, with mud up to his knees and bits of cedar and bark
clinging to his clothes and hair.
Trying to work
around the fallen tree while holding a flashlight wasn’t easy. Finally Chip was
able to move enough of the branches to see the still body of the man
underneath. The power cable was still
clutched in Lee’s hand. Feeling for a pulse, Chip let out a deep sigh as he
felt the strong, steady beat under his fingers. Chip pulled the cable free from
Lee’s grip and jerked, trying to get enough slack to plug the thing back into
the generator. Finally he had enough slack in the cable to reach and he
connected the end back into its socket.
Lights from the
cabin windows suddenly flared to life, illuminating the night. Although still
in the shadows, Chip had more light to see by now and he worked his way into
the tangle of branches, trying to get a better look at his friend. Chip made a
quick check for broken bones but everything seemed whole. He was able to grab
Lee around his shoulders and, bracing with his back and legs, Chip heaved Lee’s
frame out from under the mass of fallen tree, ignoring the sound of breaking
branches and the snarl of ripping material.
“Lee? Lee, can you
hear me?” Chip called out. Lee’s response was to twitch and let out a low groan.
Jamming the flashlight into his pocket, Chip hefted Lee’s bulk into a fireman’s
carry. Pushing past the ache in his side and the stiffness in his shoulder,
Morton headed toward the cabin, trying his best to keep his balance in the
thick, slimy mud.
He clumped onto
the back porch with a second soft moan in his left ear. Lee was starting to
struggle.
“Easy, Lee. Calm
down,” Chip tried, moving as fast as he could toward the door. It slid open of
its own accord and Chip entered the cabin. He felt hands helping ease Lee off
his shoulders. It was Nelson, wobbling on his own feet, holding the soaking wet
and mud covered Lee close to him.
“What happened?”
Nelson asked.
“Don’t know. I
found him under a downed tree. Looks like the ground was so wet, the roots lost
their hold and the tree just toppled.” Chip explained.
“I’m fine,”
grumbled Lee as he tried to stand on his own two feet. His balance was still
questionable and he tottered dangerously before Nelson wrapped an arm around
Lee’s waist for support.
“This way, lad.
Just lean on me.”
“You shouldn’t be
up, sir,” Lee replied as Nelson guided him to the sunroom. He felt the older
man chuckle with amusement.
“You let me worry
about me and I’ll let Chip worry about you,” Nelson replied with a wry grin.
“I feel so much
better,” Lee growled as Chip dropped a towel over his head. Lee snatched it off
and tried to glare at the blond but found himself grinning as Morton yanked his
filthy shirt off and was trying to wipe the mud from his arms and torso.
“I could still use
that camera,” Lee quipped. Chip rolled his eyes and continued his failing
efforts to clean up.
“This is going to
require a shower,” Chip remarked, shaking his head and holding the now filthy
towel out away from him as he glanced down at his mud crusted chest and arms,
his jeans still dripping dirty water and bits of cedar onto the floor. This
would never do.
“I suggest you
both get a hot shower, as soon as Lee can stand and walk on his own two feet,
Nelson said.
“I’m fine.
Just…just give me a minute,” Lee replied. He pulled the damp towel over his
shoulders but nothing short of ditching the soaked clothes was going to help.
“And just how did
you end up on the business end of a downed tree?” Nelson asked. Lee sheepishly
glanced up through lowered eyelashes.
“I knew cranes
sometimes roosted in trees, not under them,” Chip replied, getting a towel
slung at him for his wisecrack.
“The cable came
loose. I guess a limb pulled it out of the socket. It ended up under the tree
and I crawled in after it. I had to do something, we needed power. The tree
must have shifted, or settled in the mud or something. I felt something clunk
me on the back of the head. That’s the last thing I remember till Chip started
dragging me through the muck.”
“You’re
welcome, mon capitan, ” Chip drawled.
“That’s
enough, you two. Lee, hold still.” The words where spoken in a tone that not
even Lee Crane would question. He froze as Nelson’s skillful fingers probed the
back of his skull, gently prodding the growing lump just behind his left ear.
Lee couldn’t help but wince as Nelson touched the extremely tender spot.
“Uh-huh.
Nice knot you have there. Jamie is going to love seeing that.”
“Do we have
to tell him?” Lee whined.
Nelson
laughed, the laugh turning into a cough as he struggled for control.
“Captain, if
I have to let Chip explain about my little insignificant issues, you can better
believe that we’re telling the doctor about your encounter with the local
timber. Think you can navigate on your own?”
Lee nodded,
refusing to admit that he was still a tad on the dizzy side. He couldn’t have
the admiral worrying about him. Taking it slow, Lee got to his feet, and braced
himself against a wave of dizziness and nausea before Chip rested a steadying
hand on his arm.
“Come on,
Wobbles. Let’s get you cleaned up. My sister wouldn’t be so impressed with you
if she saw you now,”
Lee teetered
down the hall, heading for the last spare bedroom. Chip flipped on the light
and Lee pulled away from Morton’s grip.
“You need
any help?” Chip asked carefully, watching as Lee fumbled with the buttons of
his shirt. Crane just glared at him.
“You are not
the blond I had in mind to undress me,” he commented tartly and had the
satisfaction of seeing Chip cringe.
“Geez, too
much information, Lee. I do not need that mental image. I know you’re sleeping
with my sister. I don’t need you to paint a picture for me.”
Lee
snickered. He couldn’t resist. “Oh, I don’t know. Seems like you obviously need
some pointers if you ever plan on asking Serena out.”
“I don’t
think that’s going to be an issue.” Chip replied.
“What makes
you say that? I told you; she just needs to get to know you.”
“She doesn’t
want to get to know me. I checked on her earlier and she practically threw me
out of her room. She tolerates me because she has to.”
Lee’s
fingers froze. “Come on, Chip. Be charitable. She’s sick. She probably didn’t
even know it was you.” The last button blundered free and Lee slipped the long
sleeved shirt off his shoulders. The aches he hadn’t noticed before were now
making themselves known as he peeled the filthy shirt off his own mud-streaked
body. There was a sharp gasp as Chip saw the damage.
“Damn Lee.
Jamie’s gonna yell for sure,” the blond growled.
Lee Crane’s
lean, muscled chest and broad, powerful shoulders were crisscrossed with dozens
of scratches, mostly shallow. But a few still bled heavily, seeping long lines
of crimson that drizzled down his chest, following the lines and contours of
his bare chest and abdominal muscles. His jeans, soaked with rainwater and mud,
stained with drops of blood, hung low on his narrow waist, their downward slide
halted only by the slight flare of his hips, accenting the tight abdomen
muscles that contracted with each breath. He sighed. So much for distracting
Chip with talk about Serena. He could see the concern in Morton’s eyes as he
stared.
Chip
couldn’t stop himself. The scratches weren’t the only things he noticed. “Lee,
just how much weight have you lost in the last few weeks? Jamie is not going
to like that. You’re lean enough as it is, any skinnier and we’ll have to put a
weight belt on you to keep the wind from blowing you away.” Chip tried to keep
his tone light but he was seriously concerned. Lee had always been on the lean,
wiry side but now he was nothing but whipcord over bone. With the body of a
swimmer there wasn't an once of fat to be found on Lee’s overly trim frame.
“I haven’t been
hungry. You’re a worry wart, you know that?” Lee growled and stalked to the
bathroom before Chip could comment further. The door closed and Chip was left
alone with his grumblings. Muttering about stubborn submarine commanders and
the need to put a few pounds on him before he went back to work, Chip made his
own way to the hall and stopped. Nelson was standing just outside the hall,
having changed into a new robe that wasn’t decorated in globs of mud, blood or
bits of forest.
“How’s Lee?” he
asked.
“As stubborn as
ever. He’ll be fine once we get the scratches on his chest cleaned up,” Morton
said in a tone just below a snarl. Nelson chuckled.
“Very bad?”
“Well, a few could
probably use stitching but I think we can get by with just some good bandaging.
Sir, I really need to get a shower and get cleaned up.”
“Serena’s asleep.
Go ahead and use the shower in her room. I’ve used all the towels in mine.”
Nodding, Chip
slogged his way down the hall, aware he was leaving a trail of slime and mud.
Nelson watched him go, pondering the partial conversation he had overheard.
Eavesdropping
isn’t a very nice habit,
Harry. Still, he was beginning to confirm a few suspicions he was having
about his esteemed executive officer. Did Chip have more than a passing
interest in his daughter? If so, it was an interest Nelson would most
definitely have to encourage. Chip Morton was a far better match for his
daughter than Jiggs’ idea of pairing her up with either of his sons.
Still considering
this newly acquired information, Nelson wandered back to the den and settled
down in front of the disassembled short wave. He fought back a cough
threatening to rip loose and focused on putting the unit back together,
considering ways to get his second officer and his daughter paired off.
~<<>>~
Something pulled
Serena out of her happy dream, involving blue eyes and her fingers in short blond
hair. Slightly disgruntled at not being able to recall most of the dream, she
lay under the covers trying to pin down exactly what had awakened her.
She finally
tracked the sound to the shower in her bathroom. Somebody was taking a shower
in her room. The water shut off. Serena pulled herself out from under the cozy
nest of blankets, seeing the shadow of movement in the crack under the bathroom
door. Then the light flipped off and the door open.
Chip Morton stood
in the bathroom door with a towel around his waist and nothing else. A bundle
of what could only be dirty clothes was tucked under one arm. Serena blinked
and unconsciously pulled the blankets up higher. Something about the man’s
physique utterly fascinated her. Whenever he was around it was like all her
brain cells simply dried up and stopped working. All she could think about was
curling up next to that broad chest, listening to his heartbeat while he held
her close in his strong arms.
“Oh. Ah, you’re
awake. How are you feeling?” Chip said, seeing her sit up. He shifted the
bundle of clothes so he cradled it against his chest while his free hand
gripped the towel around his waist.
Serena found her
voice completely gone. Why is it that she could outline the parameters of a
three month project to people she had never met and yet when faced with Chip
Morton, she forgot her own name? The
comment she wanted to make simply refused to work loose as her vocal cords
totally shut down. She could only gape like a stranded fish. She had to make
herself focus to answer. “Um. Better, actually. I was thinking maybe I should
try to get up and eat something,” she managed. Anything to make him go away.
“Maybe I can bring
you something. You shouldn’t be wondering around,” Chip said helpfully. Serena
swallowed down a tight knot of something close to panic.
“You’re not
exactly dressed…I mean, I can get up, I should get up,” she stammered.
“Are you sure? I
can be right back,” he said brightly.
No, go away, go
away, the last thing I need is you hovering over me, “No really, you go on. I’m fine. I need
to get up anyway and you can’t help me in that department,” she managed.
“Oh, I see, I
mean, okay. Well, if you do need anything, just let me know. I’d be happy to
get you something,”
“I’ll be fine,
Chip. But thanks anyway.”
She watched Chip
make an exit, trying very hard not to stare as he walked past the bed and
trying very hard not to notice just how short the towel actually was as he
walked passed.
With a sigh Serena
levered herself out of bed, snagging the green robe draped over the nearby
chair. She pulled it on and made her way to the bathroom. She was dizzier than
she thought and stopped halfway there. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated
on one step at a time and finally made it to her intended destination.
With that out of
the way Serena now had the return journey to make. She paused in the doorway,
feeling like miles stood before her and the bed. She put one foot in front of
the other, making it to the dresser before a wave of dizziness slammed into
her, causing her stomach to roll with nausea. There was a roaring in her ears
and she didn’t hear the concerned voice calling her name.
“Serena, are you
okay?” finally broke through the roar and Serena shook her head. A mistake as
the nausea doubled.
“Gonna be sick,”
she mumbled. An arm around her waist and a hand on her arm guided her to the
bathroom and, without preamble or dignity she promptly threw up what little she
had in her stomach. The ordeal left her shaking and so weak she could hardly
stand up. She felt a cool cloth pressed into her hand and she slowly washed her
face off, the dampness a welcome relief.
Once again there
was a strong supportive arm around her waist and a guiding hand on her arm,
steering her back to bed. Only when she was settled in did she realize whom
she’d been leaning on.
Lee sat carefully
on the edge of the bed. His amber-hazel eyes were concerned as she snuggled
down under the covers. She was suddenly freezing. More than embarrassed, she
had nothing to say as Lee continued to watch her.
“Thank you,” she
managed weakly.
“You should have
let Chip give you a hand,” Lee scolded.
“Chip was dressed
in a towel,” she replied.
“It wouldn’t have
taken him a minute to get changed and come back here. You don’t have to do
everything on your own. If somebody says they’ll help you, they mean it. You’re
in no condition to be wandering around on your own. What if you had gotten
dizzy in the bathroom and passed out? What if you hit your head? You could have
bled out before we would have found you.”
“I’m sorry, okay?
I won’t get up again unless I have an armed escort,” she snapped with more
force than she intended. Immediately she felt bad. Lee was just trying to help.
“I’m sorry. I feel like crap and throwing up always makes me crabby.”
Lee smiled. His
eyes were still concerned but there was a touch of humor dancing in there as
well. Serena always did like Lee’s eyes. She could look into his eyes and know
he could be trusted. It wasn’t the same as looking into Chip’s clear blue eyes.
In his eyes she could get lost forever. Then it dawned on her. This was Lee.
The man she’d gotten to know over the last few months, not someone who had
attacked her and certainly not Jerome, who had threatened to drown her when she
was ten years old.
Serena blinked to
break the spell and realized Lee was talking. “Being sick isn’t a vacation, I
understand. But let Chip help. He’s not going to bite. He reserves that for the
crew.”
“Chip shouldn’t be
bothering with me.” Serena closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up higher.
Lee tucked it in around her shoulder, feeling her slowly relax as he moved. He
eyes drifted shut. Thinking about her last admission, Lee very quietly spoke.
“And why shouldn’t
Chip concern himself with you? He thinks a lot of you and just wants to be
friends,”
Serena let out a
deep sigh. “Can’t understand why.” Another deep sigh then silence. Serena had
drifted off into an exhausted sleep.
Lee continued to
sit on the edge of the bed. Absently he brushed a stray lock of auburn hair
from her eyes. Whatever had happened to her to make Serena think she wasn’t
worthy of what Chip could offer her?
“Lee?” Chip’s
voice called to him from the hallway.
“In here,” Lee
answered and Chip came around the corner. He saw Serena curled up in bed and
Lee sitting by her side.
“She almost passed
out. I got here in time to get her to the bathroom before she threw up,” Lee
said.
“Good thing you
checked on her then.” Chip’s words were sharp and quick. His eyes had taken on
not the glow of anger Lee had seen before but the shadow of something he seldom
saw in his friend’s eyes; disappointment.
“Chip, it’s not
what you think,” Lee started only to have the sounds of Nelson in the throws of
a coughing fit grab both their attention.
Both men darted
into the hall and toward the den. They found the admiral doubled over, the
coughing worse than ever.
“Get him to the
couch,” Lee ordered. Together, he and Chip guided the admiral to the couch and
settled him down. Nelson waved both men off but obviously they weren’t buying
it.
“I’m fine, you two
stop worrying,” he gasped.
Lee had just about
had enough of stubborn admirals and hardheaded women. “Begging your pardon, sir
but you are not ‘fine.’ That cough is getting worse and you’re more congested
than before. Please, if you don’t go back to bed then just stay here on the
couch and let me and Chip handle things.”
Nelson let the
younger man gently push him back down onto the couch. The den was warm from the
fire and as he settled into the couch cushions, he felt a blanket gently drape
across him. A glance upwards showed Morton had pulled the comforter off his bed
and settled it over him. He was too tired to argue. He let Lee fuss for a few
minutes, tucking the blanket in around him.
“Alright. I’ll
stay here if it makes you two mother hens happy,” Nelson grumbled.
“I’ll be happy
when we contact Jamie and get you to Med Bay. Just relax and get some rest. Let
me know if you need anything,” Lee urged.
Nelson felt
himself drifting off but was too tired to fight it. He snorted as sleep quickly
closed in. “Still not my idea of a nurse…” he grumbled before giving in and
letting sleep take him.
Chip stared at
Lee. “How the hell do you get him to listen to you?” he hissed, barely above a
whisper. Lee shrugged.
“How the blazes
should I know? He just does.”
Chip returned the
shrug. “You get finished cleaning those cuts up. Don’t argue with me, or I’ll
tell Jamie you might have a concussion. You’ll be twenty-four hours in his
clutches. Revenge will be mine,” Chip gloated. Lee rolled his eyes.
“Dramatic. You
work on the radio. The admiral said he almost had it back together.”
Chip complied
while Lee addressed himself to the collection of disinfectants and antibiotic
ointment the admiral had presented to him when he returned from the shower.
Nelson had produced an exceptionally well-stocked first aid kit containing
everything, Lee thought, except the actual doctor himself. It was Lee who found
the bottle of antibiotics that he instantly plied the admiral with. If he did
have a lung infection, the antibiotic couldn’t hurt.
“Chip, about
Serena,” Lee began but Chip, with his back to Lee, only shook his head.
“Not now. Maybe
later. I just want to get this damn thing fixed and get Jamie out here.”
Lee was quiet. He
finished cleaning the deeper scratches on his chest and shoulders and set
everything aside. Without another word he sat down across from Chip and
silently began to help piece the radio back together. They worked with few
words, Chip occasionally asking for a part or a tool that was close to Lee and
the younger man would silently pass the asked-for component over. Chip was
focusing on the radio, closing out everything else to focus on that task. At one
point Lee got up, ignoring the slight dizziness that continued to plague him,
to check on Nelson then wander slowly back to Serena’s room and check on her.
He managed to rouse her into half-wakefulness and convince her to take one of
the antibiotics. She had dropped back to sleep almost immediately. Like
Nelson’s, her rest was punctuated by the occasional cough or rattle. Lee then
made his way back to the den and continued to offer his assistance to Chip.
Chip was focused
on the radio, offering no conversation or comments as he worked. He was closing
everything else out and Lee knew his best friend well enough to know it was
Chip’s way of hiding.
This isn’t over Morton. We are going to talk about
this, whether you like it or not.
~<<>>~
Angie Watson was
feeling particularly smug as the morning progressed. So far the day was calm
and quiet. Nothing had blown up, nothing had been shot down, and there hadn’t
been any record of gunshots or explosions. As Angie sipped at her second cup of
coffee of the morning, she entertained the notion that maybe the command triad
should consider a vacation more often. It certainly made running the institute
easier knowing they were out of harm’s way.
Angie wished she
was feeling as good about her own investigation into the information leak. So
far no one was willing to own up to leaking that Serena Harrison was the
admiral’s daughter to anyone outside the institute. Angie was quietly looking
at Seaview’s crew but she knew before she started asking what kind of
response she would get. Case in point: Chief Sharkey.
She cornered him
in the lunchroom yesterday afternoon and asked for a few minutes of his time.
Polite as always, he acquiesced and she came right out, asking if he might have
made mention to anybody outside the institute that Doctor Harrison was the
admiral’s estranged daughter. Sharkey had just blinked those innocent green
eyes at her.
“Miss Angie, now
why would I go and do a stupid thing like that? Besides, the admiral, he’s
already ordered that we, ah, keep this under wraps, so to speak, and I’m not
about to disobey a direct order from the admiral. Ma’am,” he had said, slightly
flustered that she would even suggest such a thing. Even Angie had felt bad for
asking. If there was anybody who epitomized loyalty to the admiral, it was
Francis Sharkey. She could tell that the inquiry bothered the sensitive chief,
who was disturbed that somebody would question his loyalty.
“I don’t mean that
you would, I’m just checking to make sure maybe it didn’t slip out by accident.
I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt anybody, least of all
the admiral. We’re just trying to track
down how Mason found out Serena was the admiral’s daughter since he was
hospitalized.”
“Ma’am, I can
promise you, it wasn’t this crew. Nobody, and I mean nobody, would do anything
like that to the admiral. If I asked this bunch of yahoos to do something, than
you can darn well believe that they’ll stick to their word and not do it. But I
swear to you, if I hear one peep about somebody opening their big yap when they
shouldn’t have, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thank you, Chief.
I was hoping you’d say that,” Angie had replied. With her ‘mole’ firmly planted
in Seaview’s crew Angie could now focus on the institute staff. One thing
was certain; she pitied the poor fool if indeed the leak came from the crew.
Sharkey looked like a big teddy bear, but he could make your life a living hell
if you crossed him.
A quiet knock on
her doorframe had Angie glancing up from her computer screen. Wendy Morton
stood there, an enormous stack of folders in one hand and an equally enormous
grin plastered on her face.
“You look like the
cat that ate the canary. And the goldfish. What gives? Don’t tell me those are
for me.” Angie eyed the intimidating stack with trepidation.
Wendy sat the
hefty stack down on the edge of the desk. “You’re welcome to go through some of
them, if you like. It’s the employment records for Springhurst’s staff, going
back five years.”
Angie gaped. “No
way.”
“Yes way.”
Angie reached for
the topmost file. “How on earth did you do that? I didn’t think you could get
these without a court order…” she trailed off as Wendy explained.
“Simple. Last
night I made a phone call, and explained I was with the Navy Criminal
Investigation Services and I was currently investigating the recent kidnapping
of one commander and the attempted murder of another and that I needed their
employment records going back the past five years. I said it was in their best
interests to cooperate as this was a matter of national security and if they
didn’t work with me, my next phone call would be to Homeland Security.”
Angie was laughing
so hard by now she had her face buried in both hands, trying to simply breath.
“Oh my stars, thank the admiral you’re on our side! That was brilliant,
positively brilliant. That sounds so like something Chip would pull.”
“Well, it worked
and I’m not questioning it. I was hoping I could leave about half of these with
you.”
Angie quickly
shifted a good portion of the stack onto her desk, shuffling papers around to
make room. “Done, and grateful to help. Look for anything that might connect to
Serena and I’ll look for anything that might be connected to the admiral. When
we get through the stacks we can switch files.”
“Tag anything you
might find and we can follow up when we sort through this mess. Angie, before I delve into this,” Wendy
gestured toward the stack of folders with the fingers of one hand, “just how
many people might have a grudge against the admiral?”
Angie raised a
dark eyebrow and leaned forward, propping her elbow on the desk and resting her
chin on an upturned palm. “Wendy, if I had a nickel for every time the admiral
got a death threat or crossed somebody because of their unethical thinking, I
could retire. That Mason fruit bat was just the tip of the iceberg. There could
be hundreds and those are just the enemies he’s made since the institute was
founded. We won’t even talk about his Navy days.”
Wendy leaned
against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. “What do you think? Is
this somebody with a grudge against Serena or the admiral?”
Angie sighed,
pinching the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know. I
wasn’t there. Lee said Mason told him Serena was payment for his kidnapping. Mason
knew Serena was the admiral’s daughter. You’ll have to ask Lee for more
details.”
Wendy was silent,
still chewing thoughtfully on her thumbnail. Finally the distant look cleared
from her eyes and she focused once more on Angie.
“Disgruntled
employees. Every place has them. Have there been any employee terminations
since Serena was hired? Someone who might have heard through the institute
grapevine that there was a connection between the two and maybe sold that
information to the highest bidder?”
Angie shrugged.
“It’s not beyond possible. I’ll get with HR and have a list faxed to you before
the end of the day. But just off the top of my head, I can’t think of anyone
with that kind of ax to grind.”
Wendy snorted and
frowned. “Okay, what about this: the admiral used two outside labs to confirm
the DNA tests, proving Serena was his biological offspring. Could the leak have
come from there?”
Angie frowned.
“You’ll have to get with Doctor Jamieson. The admiral didn’t want to be accused
of influencing the results and he had Jamie run supervise the tests.”
“Well, that’s a
few more leads at any rate. Is there anything, I mean any little small details
you can think of?”
Angie thought,
trying to offer Wendy any little tidbit of information that might clear up this
mess. “Wait, there was one thing. I remember after I typed up Lee’s debriefing.
He said that whoever Mason’s contact was, he knew Serena.”
Wendy sighed. “Now
I’m confused. I’ve never heard her mention anybody named Rinaldi. Well, I’ll
add her to the list of people to interview. So how are things without the big
cheese in town?” Wendy asked, trying to lighten the mood.
Angie grinned and
leaned back in the chair. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this job, I love working
with the admiral. There is never a dull moment here and never would I even
consider leaving but I can’t tell you how nice it is, knowing that for once the
three of them are safe and sound. When they’re out to sea you never know what
they’re going to run into, what kind of shape or how many pieces they’re going
to come back in. It’s nice to run things without worrying about who’s in Med
Bay.”
Wendy laughed and
turned to go. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” she tossed over her shoulder as she
ambled out.
Angie focused on
her computer once more, shaking her head. “Don’t I know it,” she muttered and
picked up her typing.
~<<>>~
The cabin was
quiet, even the rain had given up its ceaseless pounding. Chip Morton was
bone-tired and ready for a nice long nap but at the moment his attention was
focused on the radio.
Two hours ago,
somewhere around dawn, he and Lee had finally gotten it repaired and working.
Now it was just a matter of getting a message out and praying somebody was able
to pick it up. At this point it was really a one-man job and to that effect,
Chip sent Lee to bed. It was obvious that Crane was fighting a headache of epic
proportions and Chip demanded he take something and suggested he bunk down in
Nelson’s empty bedroom. Chip fished around in the many bottles, tubes, and
boxes of the first aid kit and came up with something he hoped would kill the
headache Lee was trying hard to hide.
Lee eyed the
offered pill with trepidation.
“Lee, just take
it. It’s not going to hurt you, just kill the headache,” Chip wheedled. And
send you to sleepy-time land, if I read the label on the bottle right.
Reluctantly Lee
popped the pill, washing it down while Chip literally pushed him toward the
empty bedroom. Lee grumbled about over protective executive officers but let
Morton settle him into bed.
After spending the
next few hours fine-tuning the radio and trying to contact the institute with
little success, Chip decided to take a break and make the rounds, starting with
Nelson. He was sleeping, but not quietly. There was an audible rattle that Chip
recognized from his own bouts with pneumonia. Serena was in a similar
condition, sleeping, but with the deep rattle that came with that particular
infection.
Lee was sprawled
across the bed, dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, long legs askew and tangled
in the blankets as he slept quietly. To Chip he looked peaceful, and could only
hope he was actually resting, not just lying still with his eyes closed. He
reached out and touched Lee’s shoulder, expecting Crane to roll over and snap
at him.
But Lee only
sighed and shifted his position, drawing an arm up close to his chest, under
his chin. His breathing was slow and steady; the even rise and fall of his
chest was an indicator of his deep sleeping state. Chip smiled. Of course, the
peace would be short lived. When Lee woke up he’d realize what Chip had done
and probably scream bloody murder. Oh well. Lee needed to rest and if the meds
Chip had pawned off on him happened to have contained a sedative, oh well.
Carefully he lifted the edge of the blanket thrown back over the edge of the
bed and drew it over his sleeping friend.
Morton wondered
back to the den, trying not to think about all the scrapes Lee had gotten into
over the years, when an odd sound caught his attention. He broke into a run as
he recognized the voice of Seaview’s radioman.
“NIMR calling
Sender, please respond,” came the familiar voice. Chip fumbled for the mike,
sliding into the seat as he scrambled to respond.
“Sparks? Sparks
this is Morton. Over.”
“Mister Morton?
Everything all right, sir? Over.”
“Sparks, listen, I
need to speak with Doctor Jamieson, as soon as possible. Have Sharkey get the
Flying Sub ready for launch. Over.”
Chip could hear
the sounds of switches being clicked as Sparks scrambled to carry out orders.
He heard the other man contacting the Med Bay, requesting Jamieson to report to
Seaview, and another call to request Chief Sharkey to come to the radio
shack.
“Playing with the
radio again, Sparks?” Morton asked with a weak smile. He could hear the
amusement in Sparks’ voice as he answered.
“Just thought she
might get lonely, without you and the skipper to keep her company, sir. I
decided to do a little fine-tuning when I thought I heard something like a
shortwave transmission. Over,” said the radioman.
Chip closed his
eyes in relief. Bless junior officers with time on their hands.
“Doctor Jamieson
here for you sir,” Sparks said finally. Chip could hear the clatter of
footsteps as Jamie apparently ran to the radio shack.
“Mister Morton,
you’re supposed to be on vacation,” the doctor said good-naturedly but Chip
could detect the hint of worry in his voice.
“Nice to hear you,
Jamie. We’ve run into a small problem. I could really use you right now. Over.”
“What’s happened?
How small a problem?”
Chip went on to
explain that the bridge had been washed out, keeping them from driving back. He
outlined the admiral’s and Serena’s condition, doing his best to answer the doctor’s
rapid-fire succession of questions concerning their symptoms. The one question
he couldn’t answer was how they came about their current condition.
“Neither of them
has really been forthcoming about what happened. We found some antibiotics in
the first aid kit and I managed to get a dose into them both. Is there anything
else I should be doing for them? Over.”
“Continue as
you’ve been doing. Keep them hydrated. That cough will dry them out fast if
they don’t have enough liquids. Have they complained of any nausea?
“The admiral
hasn’t. Lee said Serena did.”
“Well, if you can,
get another dose of the amoxicillin in them. How are you and the skipper?
Considering they might be contagious, any signs you might be catching what they
have? Over.”
Now it gets fun. “Lee’s had an accident,” Chip began.
“He what?” came
the answering growl from the physician.
“Down, Jamie. He’s
really in not too bad a shape. He has a few cuts and scratches, and he was
fighting a killer headache. I stuffed him full of meds, sent him to bed, and
he’s sleeping right now. I don’t think he has a concussion but he has a doozy
of a knot on his head. I’d feel better if you’d take a look at him and decide
for yourself.”
“You can bet I’ll
do just that. As soon as I can throw some things together, we’ll be on our way.
I assume Sharkey knows where we’re going? Over.”
“He should have
the coordinates.”
“Just checking.
Hang in there, Chip.”
“Don’t I always?
Thanks Jamie. Morton out.”
Chip took a deep
breath, thankful that this disaster of a vacation was almost over with. It
would be a few hours before Jamie finally showed up and in the meantime Chip
decided to follow up with the suggestion he try to get some meds into the
admiral and Serena.
With a glass of
water and two pills, Chip found the admiral easy to work with. He awoke with
Chip’s touch on his shoulder, opening blurry, bloodshot eyes to peer over to
the younger man, crouched down beside the couch.
“Chip,” he
muttered roughly.
“Yes sir. I
managed to get a hold of Jamie. He said I needed to get another dose of these
into you. If you have an infection it should help,” Chip coaxed. With a
slightly trembling hand—and sour expression on his face—Nelson reached out and
took the offered pills and popped them into his mouth, washing them down with
the glass of water. With that he lay back down on the couch and closed his
eyes.
“How’s Lee?” he
asked.
“Sleeping, believe
it or not.”
Nelson chuckled.
It turned into a weak cough. “Anybody else told me that, I wouldn’t believe
them,” he finally answered.
“You know how he
is. He didn’t give up without a fight. Of course, I had a little help from
Jamie’s first aid kit.”
“You
slipped him a sedative?” Nelson asked with a smile
“He needed the rest. I’ll worry about the
tongue-lashing later. I just hope he sleeps till Jamie gets here.”
“Serena?”
Chip frowned. He
was going to have to check on her again and he was certain that she was going
to push him away. Again. Lee wasn’t here to run interference. “She was sleeping
when I last checked on her.”
That answer seemed
to satisfy the admiral. He relaxed and took a deep, shuddering breath and
closed his eyes.
“Just relax sir.
Jamie will be up here in no time. Everything’s going to be fine,” Chip
reassured his employer.
“Course it will.
Best exec I know…handling things…” Nelson muttered then dropped into sleep.
Chip smiled. Nice to know someone had faith in him when he wasn’t sure about
himself.
Lee was still
sacked out but Chip wanted to let him know that help was on the way. Knowing
better than to wake Lee suddenly, Chip called his friend’s name as he rested a
hand on Crane’s shoulder, giving him a shake.
“Lee? Can you wake
a little?”
One hazel eye
opened and rolled upwards to peer at Morton.
“How long have I
slept?” Lee groused, frowning. He didn’t remember falling asleep. Immediately
he was suspicious of the meds Chip had plied him with earlier.
Chip saw the
question in Lee’s eyes and grinned. “Now, would I slip you something to make
you sleep?”
Lee growled as he
threw the blanket off. “Gladly.”
“You needed the
sleep and don’t argue with me. I’m not apologizing,” Chip replied coldly. Lee
continued to glare at him, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “How’s the head?”
“Manageable. Did
you want something or did you drop in to harass me?”
Chip silently
breathed a sigh of thanks. Lee didn’t seem angry, and if he could, Chip was
going to try and convince him to go back to sleep. “Radio’s fixed. Jamie is on
his way.”
Lee let out a deep
breath. “Ohh, that’s great. How is the admiral?”
“Asleep, the same
place you need to be. I was nice and I woke you to tell you the cavalry is on
its way. Now go back to sleep. There isn’t anything you can do except get some
rest. You’ve had precious little of that lately. Please?”
“I hate it when
you beg,” Lee grumbled but did swing his long legs back into the bed. Chip
grabbed the blanket and pulled it back over his friend. “You gonna read me a
bed time story as well, Mister Morton?” Lee muttered.
“Sure. Once upon a
time, there was a stubborn commander who started listening to everything his
exec had to say and they lived happily ever after,” Chip said trying to keep
the laughter out of his voice.
“Some fantasy
world you live in, Morton. Wake me when Jamie gets here,” Lee grumbled one last
time. Closing his eyes, Lee was actually surprised that he seemed to be
drifting off once more. He was asleep before he actually heard Chip’s answer of
‘aye aye, Skipper.”
With a new glass
of water and two more pills, Chip walked the hall toward Serena’s room. He was
feeling pretty good about himself for getting Lee to go back to sleep and get
the rest he badly needed. He wasn’t so sure about the success he was going to
have with Serena. He found the young woman sitting on the edge of the bed, bent
over and coughing weakly
“You okay? You
need anything?” Chip asked, waiting for the rejection. Serena glanced up at
him, and with a deep shuddering breath she nodded.
“I think I’m going
to be sick again.”
“Then I’ll help
you,” Chip said quietly setting the glass and pills on the table by the bed.
Gently, he helped her off the bed and to the bathroom. He held her long, auburn
hair out of her face as she retched, finally ending in dry heaves as there was
nothing left in her stomach.
Chip ran cool
water over an already damp washrag and handed it to Serena. Slowly she washed
off her face, feeling horrible and disgusting. Without another word, she let
Chip guide her back to bed and settle her in once more. Any shred of dignity
she felt she might have left was just washed down the drain and in all honesty,
she was too sick to care anymore. Not that it would have mattered anyhow.
Curling up on her
side, tying to get her stomach to calm down, she glanced back up to Chip, still
hovering over the bed. “Thank you,” she sighed weakly.
Chip sat down on
the edge of the mattress. “You’re welcome. All you have to do is ask. I’m happy
to help.”
“How’s Dad?”
Dad? How weird
does that sound? The admiral is a father…”The admiral is resting. He’s going to be just fine as soon
as Jamie gets here.”
“Lee says you’re a
handy person to have around,” Serena said as she closed her eyes and settled
under the covers. But as she tried to get comfortable, she began coughing again
and couldn’t seem to stop. She seemed unable to take a breath and Chip had a
moment of panic as she gasped for air.
“Easy, just relax,
let me help you,” Chip urged, and pulled her from her curled position to sit
up, leaning against his chest. She began to breathe easier and slumped against
him, completely spent. She leaned her head against his shoulder and curled one
hand under her chin. She was seriously comfortable and Chip hated to move her.
Honestly, he liked having her leaning against him, breathing in the faint scent
of honeysuckle that seemed to follow her. She must like a certain perfume or
shampoo. Hesitantly, he moved one hand up till it rested on the crook of her
elbow. She didn’t protest.
“You’re a
comfortable pillow, Mister Morton,” she muttered. With another deep sigh, she
relaxed further and Chip felt her slipping away.
“See, I am handy
to have around,” Chip said quietly. But her breathing had slowed once more and
he could tell she was asleep. Carefully, so that he didn’t wake her, Chip
shifted his position until he was more comfortable and with a sigh of his own,
he closed his eyes, intending to simply rest till Jamie arrived.
He was asleep in a
matter of minutes.
~<<>>~
Lee bolted awake
as a very familiar whine cut through the air. He knew that sound. The Flying
Sub was coming in low, possibly to land on the lake. He threw the blankets off
and staggered to his feet, expecting to find Chip nearby to grumble at him for
moving too fast.
No such person
growled at him as he made his way to the living room. The admiral was still on
the couch and Chip was nowhere to be found.
“Chip?” Lee called
out, poking his head in the kitchen. He expected to find Morton face-first in
the refrigerator but there was no blond to be found and no sign he’d been
there. Lee realized with a start that the rain that that plagued them since
they started this trip had finally stopped.
Going on a hunch,
Lee navigated his way down the hall and to Serena’s room. What he found made
him smile.
Serena Harrison
was deeply asleep, curled up against the broad chest of his best friend, one
Charles Morton. Chip’s eyes were closed and with one arm curled protectively
around the archaeologist, both looked about as comfortable as they could get.
Grinning from ear
to ear, Lee crossed both arms over his chest and leaned against the door. It
didn’t look to him like she was pushing Chip away. Of course, there could be a
perfectly logical explanation for why she seemingly fell asleep in Morton’s
arms. Lee wondered how long it would take for Chip to realize he was being
watched.
Not long.
With a snort and a
low groan, Chip’s eyes flew open as the distinctive whine of the flying sub
flew over one more time. The second pass would confirm the cabin’s location
before Sharkey landed in the lake.
“Lee? Was that the
Flying Sub?” Chip blinked, looking down at the woman sleeping in his arms. He
glanced back to Lee, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “What are you grinning
at?”
“Me? Nothing. Not
a thing. So, are you comfortable, or do you need help getting up? You look
pretty comfortable to me.”
“Just help me
shift her a bit. I think she’s pretty well out of it and I don’t want to wake
her,”
Still grinning,
Lee helped reposition the sleeping woman and Chip slid off the bed. Lee
couldn’t stop the near giggle that escaped him as he pulled the blankets back
up over her.
“What? She was
having trouble breathing lying down. It’s easier to breathe sitting up, you
know that,” Chip replied. “Stop leering at me like that. It’s not what you
think!”
Without another
word, Lee led the way down the hall to the den. He found the admiral sitting
up, blinking as the early morning sunlight streamed through the huge windows.
“Good morning,
sir,” Lee greeted, still grinning.
Nelson raised a
curious eyebrow but didn’t question Lee’s apparent good mood. The smile was
something he hadn’t seen in awhile and he wasn’t about to jinx it by
questioning where it came from. As Chip brought up the rear, Nelson had a
pretty good hunch he was looking at the reason, or part of the reason for Lee’s
good humor.
“Morning,
gentlemen. I thought I heard the Flying Sub.”
“You did. Jamie
and company should be beating a path to our door any minute now.”
True to his word,
the front door opened and Will Jamieson trudged in, the heavy black duffle in
one hand, his blue eyes swiftly accessing the company of men in the den of the
cabin.
“Well, do I have
to make you form a single file?” Jamieson growled. Lee was grinning as
Jamieson’s gaze locked onto him. “You. Sit. I’ll get to you later. Admiral, you
stay put,” he said as Nelson was trying to rise up off the couch.
There was a second
of defiance in Nelson’s sapphire eyes then he remembered WHY he was in this
situation to start with. With a defeated sigh, Nelson resettled himself on the
couch and let Jamie get on with the job he’d been hired to do.
“Serena’s worse
then I am,” Nelson said, trying to diffuse the doctor’s ire. Jamie wasn’t
buying it.
“I’ll get to her
in a bit. A few more minutes won’t matter at this point. Deep breath, Admiral.
Okay, now another,” Jamie instructed, listening to the sounds of Nelson’s
lungs. He spared a glance to Lee, watching with concern.
“Relax, Lee. It’s
not life threatening—just pneumonia, from the sounds of it. I won’t know for
certain till I get some x-rays. I brought you a visitor. Actually ‘brought’
isn’t the right word,” Jamie tried to explain as Lee’s look of concern morphed
into one of puzzlement.
“Visitor?” he
repeated and spun around with a sneaky suspicion about whom Jamie was talking
about.
“You seriously
didn’t think I was just going to sit in Santa Barbara and wait for word, did
you?” Wendy Morton said tartly as she dropped a solidly packed duffle bag to
the floor. She sauntered up to Lee, planted a quick kiss on his cheek and then
sashayed down the hall. “I assume Serena’s back here?” she queried with
amusement.
“Jamie, how could
you let her come along? She didn’t need to be here!” Lee exclaimed, switching
his attention from the doctor on the couch to the blonde woman now disappearing
into Serena’s room.
“Skipper, if you’d
like to tell that woman she can’t do something, be my guest. Besides, she said
she could help deal with Serena. If she’s anything like her father, I figure I
could use all the help I could get,” Jamieson replied dryly.
Nelson glared at
the doctor but the sapphire eyes danced with a touch of amusement. “Doctor, are
you suggesting I’m stubborn?” Nelson challenged.
Jamieson snorted.
“I would never suggest such a thing. I’ll come right out and say it.”
“Honest, isn’t
he?” Lee said with a glance to Chip.
“Skipper, I
thought I told you to sit,” Jamieson warned.
Lee glanced back
to Chip, looking for salvation. The blond shrugged.
“Not me, pal. The
man has needles. And a thermometer. That he doesn’t stick in your mouth. Count
me out.”
“Coward,” Lee
griped has he plopped down in the nearest chair. Still, as long as the admiral
was getting the help he obviously needed, Lee couldn’t argue too much. It was
worth having Jamie poke and prod him if the admiral was being taken care of.
~<<>>~
Wendy eased down
beside Serena, dropping a hand over the other woman’s forehead. Warm but not so
much as to be a worry. The redhead stirred and opened a green eye.
“Wen? How’d you
get here?”
“I flew,” said
Wendy with a smug look. Serena frowned.
“Flew?”
“In the Flying
Sub. Chip said you and the admiral were pretty sick and so I tagged along.”
Serena groaned and
rolled over. Her chest ached with the very effort of breathing. “I had the
weirdest dream. I dreamt I fell asleep, leaning against Chip and he was holding
me so I didn’t slide,” she said. She could still feel Chip’s strong arms
holding her close, the feel of his breathing under her and his heartbeat
lulling her to sleep…no, that had to have been a dream.
“I’m sure he
wouldn’t have minded being in your dream. He likes you, you know.”
“Yeah sure,
whatever. Listen, I feel like crap, can’t you just let me die in piece?” Serena
pulled the blankets up over her head and just wished everything would stop
aching. She felt the blanket gently tugged away and heard Wendy’s soft
laughter.
“Nope, no can do.
You have to get better so you can go to Florida. The grant came through; you
and three other researchers are going to play in the warm tropical waters off the
tip of the Sunshine State.”
Serena snapped her
head up and regretted it as everything spun. “Ohhh. Remind me not to do that so
fast next time. When are we going?”
Wendy rolled her
eyes. “Relax, woman. Not for another two weeks yet. Plenty of time for you to
recover and make a good impression for the institute. Now. Let’s get you
cleaned up a bit, get you into some fresh clothes. You’ll feel better for the
flight back.”
“How’s Dad?”
Wendy blinked.
“Dad? You’re calling him Dad now? What did you come down with?”
“Smart ass! He—he
suggested I call him something other than admiral. I’m trying. He wants to be
my father and I want to make this as easy as possible, for both of us.”
“It’s a start,
girlfriend, it’s a start,” Wendy said with a smile. “I don’t suppose you and
Lee hashed anything out?”
Serena blinked.
Had she? She remembered Lee telling her that Mason was dead. Lee’s eyes, full
of concern and worry. Not the dull flat eyes from her past, or the eyes of the
man who had attacked her. There was no comparison.
“Maybe. You gonna
lend me hand or what? I feel all grubby. I want a shower.”
“Slow. First get
up then we’ll talk shower. Come on with you. One step at a time.”
Wendy helped
Serena out of bed and toward the bathroom. One step at a time. Yes, that about
summed up everything about her friend. One step at a time.
~<<>>~
There was no
getting around it. Harry wheedled, cajoled, and even threatened but Jamieson
wasn’t listening. Harry was destined for a suite in Med Bay and there was
nothing he could do to convince the doctor otherwise.
“Forget it
admiral. You’re congested and while I can’t prove it, I’m sure you’re got a
wonderful infection blossoming in those tobacco-laced lungs of yours. You hired
me to do a job and I’m jolly well going to do it, if I have to sedate you for
the trip back to do it.”
Nelson glared at
his doctor and friend. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
Lee Crane, leaning
against the entrance to the hall, was trying hard not to laugh. So many times
it was he or Chip tying to talk their way out of a stay in Jamie’s domain and
for once it was an oddity to find Nelson on the receiving end of the equally
stubborn doctor. Nelson’s burn-through-the-bulkheads glare shifted targets,
settling on Lee.
“Do you find
something amusing, Midshipmen Crane?”
A poorly disguised
bark of laughter—female laughter—from the other room indicated the comment had
been overheard. Lee felt the heat rush up his neck, recalling other times in
the past when Nelson had called on him in class, the words ‘Midshipmen Crane’
spoken in much the same tone as the word ‘cockroach.’
“No, sir, Captain
Nelson sir, nothing is amusing. Sir.”
“A little heavy on
the sir-sandwich there, aren’t you, lad?” Nelson replied dryly as Jamie shook
his head and rolled his eyes.
“It’s the whack on
the head. Shook loose all those ‘sirs’ he swallowed whole when he was a plebe,”
Chip replied around mouthfuls of turkey sandwich. With the casualties of this
ill-fated vacation now in the capable hands of a real physician Chip could take
the time to feed his stomach, recently complaining of its empty state. He
munched down on another bite, remembering he had something to say. “I’ve been
thinking,” he began as soon as he disposed of the last bite.
Lee, from his
leaning against the doorframe, pressed the index finger of his right hand
against the index finger of his left hand, forming a ‘cross.’ With his ‘cross’
held before him, he took two steps forward, toward Chip as he stood in the
kitchen door. “Back! Foul creature! Back!” he intoned, with his eyes dancing.
He got a wadded napkin tossed at him for his theatric efforts, which he
promptly tossed back to Chip.
“Admiral, I think
your boys need a time out,” Jamie said in response to the horseplay running
rampant.
“Better here than
the boat,” the admiral shot back. He had changed into clean clothes and while
he was still coughing and moving slow, he looked and sounded better. Faced with
the prospect of taking the flight back to Santa Barbara in Sleepyland, he had
opted to behave and not attract attention to himself. His plan was to get
Serena to take the bunk and if he was clever, he might actually pull this off.
“What’s on your mind, Chip?”
Lee was obviously
about to say something but the appearance of Wendy gently leading a slightly
wobbly Serena distracted him long enough for Chip to speak his mind. She
glanced up to look Lee in the eye and then gave him a very slight smile, for
whatever reason. Lee returned it, feeling a little better now that she didn’t
seem to be on the edge of panic around him. He pulled his attention back to
what Chip was saying.
“The Flying Sub’s
going to be crammed; I’ll stay behind and clean things up, and I can drive back
when the bridge is repaired.”
“I was thinking of
having Kowalski stay and bring the cars back. Your rig has a little more
horsepower, plenty to pull my rental back.” Nelson said thoughtfully.
Wendy took the
opportunity to pipe up. “I can stay. Once you get our resident marine
archaeologist here loaded up, my job is done. I can drive Chip’s rig and he can
drive your rental. Problem solved.”
“You want to stay
behind?” Chip glanced from his sister to Lee and back again. Wendy smiled
serenely.
“What? Can’t I
take a break and spent a little time with my big brother?” she inquired
innocently.
Serena shuffled past
Lee toward the den. She flinched involuntarily as Lee rested a hand on her
shoulder but she didn’t panic. She took
a deep breath and very calmly reached out with a finger to poked Lee in the
ribs.
“Hey, what am I,
the Pillsbury Doughboy?” he chuckled, slapping gently at her hand.
The young woman
snorted. “Not near enough dough,” she replied before she glanced over to Chip.
“Your sister wants something. Be afraid.”
Lee couldn’t stop
the snort of laughter that escaped him. He knew Wendy well enough to know that
statement wasn’t far from the truth. Well, Chip grew up with her. He was a big
boy—he could deal with her!
Jamieson, while
unwilling to break the good mood of the group, understood the need to get the
admiral and Serena back to Med Bay as soon as possible. “Gentlemen, I think we’ve lollygagged long
enough. It’s past check out time and most of you have VIP suites in Med Bay.”
“You’re not
sticking me in Med Bay,” Lee declared, as if the doctor were inclined to
listen.
Jamie speared Lee
with one of those looks, a look that said, ‘I can’t believe that you would even
think of telling me what to do’.“I’ll stick you where ever I’ve a mind to stick
you, Skipper. Don’t argue with me or both you and the admiral will take a nice
long nap,” the doctor warned.
Serena was trying
hard not to smile as she listened to the banter between the four. The odd
relationship between these men never ceased to amaze her. She realized that
Jamieson had turned an intense blue-eyed gaze of his own on her.
“Young lady, do
you have anything to add to the hilarity?” he asked with the ghost of a smile.
“What? I’m not
doing anything! I’m a good girl, I promise,” she insisted and had the
satisfaction of seeing Jamie laugh.
“See? She’s a
quick learner. Chip, let’s get these invalids to the Flying Sub. I’ll feel
better about everyone once I’ve done a complete work up on them in PROPER
facilities.”
Nelson insisted on
moving under his own power. Lee was happy to let Sharkey take over. The chief
seemed to know just how close to hover and not get his head taken off. If
anybody could handle the admiral, in whatever state he was in, it was Chief
Sharkey.
Lee hesitated
following, watching as Wendy led Serena out the door, leaving him and Chip
alone. Jamieson paused at the door and glanced back with a curious expression
on his face. Lee raised a hand.
“I’ll be along in
just a minute. I promise.”
“Chip?” Will
raised an eyebrow at the blond.
“I’ll see to it he
doesn’t get lost. Just give us a few. You’ll need that long to sort out who
bunks down and who gets a chair,” Chip replied. Jamieson slipped out the door,
leaving Chip and Lee alone.
“Well?” Chip
asked. Shoving his hands in his back pockets he faced Lee, curious as to what
was going on.
“Well, what?” Lee
repeated.
“Did you want to
say something?”
“Thanks for coming
up here with me.”
“Oh, it’s been a
blast; hauling your six out from under a tree, getting shot down by Serena,
finding the admiral half dead from pneumonia. Most fun I’ve had in years.”
“You’re
impossible,” Lee replied with a shake of his head. He ran a hand through his
dark hair, mussing the already tousled dark curls. A nervous habit—but what had
triggered it?
“I’m blond. Some
people will tell you there’s no difference. Seriously, Lee. What gives?”
For a second Lee
was silent. His eyes drifted to some far off place and he grew distant,
remembering.“I think I can deal with this now,” he said finally, his eyes still
seeing something only visible to Lee. Chip held his tongue, waiting.
“I keep thinking
how completely helpless I was to stop him. How Mason was going to kill everyone
and I couldn’t do anything to prevent it. I couldn’t warn anybody. If Sharkey
hadn’t shown up when he had, you’d have never found Serena or me. Mason would
have gotten away with at least part of his plan.”
“But it didn’t
happen. I’m fine. Another week and Jamie will probably clear me for duty.
Serena will be fine. She doesn’t freak out around you anymore. She seems a
little timid yet but she’ll get over that in time. She’s tougher than she gives
herself credit for. And you—you’ve come through worse things. We both have. I
can’t expect you to put your shadows behind you overnight.
“That’s what it’s
like, being followed by a company of shadows. You know they’re there but when
you try to catch a glimpse of them, they’re gone. It helps when I’ve got people
I can trust around me.”
“You’re my
brother. I’d do anything for you, you know that. All you have to do is ask.
We’ve been too far together and we’ve got a long way to go. So you think you’re
gonna be alright?”
Lee nodded. “Yeah.
I think I will. I think I can start to put it behind me now.”
“Good. Now, march.
Before Jamie comes back and gets hostile. You can’t argue with the man and his
syringes.”
Lee and Chip
walked out of the cabin together. Three people milled about on the bank by the
submersible. Jamieson was watching the cabin, arms crossed over his chest. Lee
waved and he saw the doctor’s posture relax. The two continued their slow walk
down to the Flying Sub. With the boat dock under water, Sharkey had maneuvered
the little yellow craft onto the beach for easier disembarking and loading.
“One more thing,
Chip; Wendy knows there is a leak. She’s working with Angie to try and track
down this Rinaldi person. Once Jamie clears you, you’ll probably be on this and
you needed to know.”
Chip nodded.
“She’s got good instincts. If she can keep it low key, I won’t have a problem.
I’ll have a talk with her about it before we head back. Maybe she has some
ideas.”
“Sounds like a
plan. Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you when the river goes down. Take care
buddy. Try not to get eaten by a bear or something.” Lee said. Chip just rolled
his eyes. From his lookout point on the beach, Kowalski watched and waited,
ready to offer his skipper a hand if he needed it. He caught Morton’s eye and
the exec nodded slightly.
“Skipper, let me
give you a hand. Doc said climbing around might make you dizzy again,” Ski said
carefully, knowing exactly how to phrase the request without seeming to be
hovering. Lee, without comment, allowed
the rating to help him over the lip of the hatch. With a smile and a salute,
Ski shut the hatch and Chip heard the wheel turn and lock.
Chip motioned to
Wendy and the two Morton siblings walked up the bank as the Flying Sub powered
up. Kicking up a spray of mud and water, the craft finally eased out into the
lake. It skimmed across the surface like a thrown skipping stone then
gracefully took to the air.
The craft circled
the lake once, came in low, and then dipped hard to port as Wendy and Chip
waved. Then she lifted her nose, gained altitude until she was just barely a
dot overhead, and vanished into the blue sky.
Chip found himself
deep in thought as he and his sister walked back toward the cabin. In a couple
of days the river would go back down and the locals could get a temporary
bridge up. In the meantime, the admiral and Serena could work on recovery and
maybe finally Lee could finally banish his shadows, once and for all.
srh