OLD FRIENDS ARE BEST
“Uh, Chip?”
Morton
looked up from his computer screen as Lee Crane rapped at the open door of
Chip’s office at the Nelson Institute.
“Yeah, Skipper?”
“You,
maybe, got some free time tomorrow?” Lee
shifted his weight from one foot to the other – a tad nervously, Chip thought –
which had him straightening his posture in the chair, his perception
sharpening.
“Sure,
Lee. You need a meeting? Is it the new Sonar refinement? Cos I can assure you ….”
“No. No.
That’s fine! It’s, em, something
else actually.” The captain coughed
slightly, hiding it behind a fist hastily raised to cover his mouth. “It’s …ahh… personal.”
Chip’s
eyebrows rose to meet his hairline as his antenna twitched uncomfortably. He waved his friend to one of the chairs in
front of his desk. A cold finger of fear
wend its way down his spine as Crane carefully shut the office door behind him,
effectively sealing them off from the Institute staff.
“Personal,
Lee?” Concern edged his tone as Chip’s thoughts
raced ahead to a myriad of potential problems and the fingers of his left hand
unconsciously trawled towards the desk phone, Jamie’s pager number popping
unasked into his head.
“Yeah!” With a sigh, his friend dropped heavily into
the indicated seat. A second, deeper
sigh preceded his next words. “God, I
don’t know if I can do this.”
Skin now
crawling with terror, Morton moved around the desk to sit facing his oldest and
best friend. “Lee, you’re scaring me,
buddy. What’s up? Come on, you can tell me anything.” The blond officer had to swallow a lump of
morbid dread, a knot of tension forming between his hunched shoulder blades as
he leaned towards the dark haired man.
Crane ran a
distracted hand through his black curls, which immediately sprang into an
unruly mass, making him look younger than his given years. His thoughts were evidently far from the
present and Morton laid a firm hand on his captain’s khaki clad arm, worry
making him a shade rougher than usual.
“Lee! Please! What’s wrong?” Then, decisively. “I’m calling Jamie!”
“Jamie?” The note of patent curiosity mingled with
abject disbelief went a long way towards reassuring Seaview’s XO. “What’s he got to do with this?”
“You tell
me, pal!” The exec was nearing the end
of his patience.
“There’s
nothing wrong with me!” Snatching his
arm from Chip’s grasp, the captain leapt adroitly to his feet and began to pace
the spacious office, stopping occasionally to level an accusatory glare at his
XO and friend. “Sheesh! You and the admiral! You think I can’t take care of myself!”
Cautious
now in the face of Lee’s irritation, which could so easily escalate into
outright anger, Chip played the role he was born to – super efficient XO and
supportive friend all meshed into one - and
silently evoked his skipper to give!
“Well, Lee,
sometimes, you know…”
Crane
rolled his eyes theatrically. “There’s
nothing wrong with ME!”
“Then WHO?”
“Not
who! WHAT!”
“Huh?”
“It’s the
CAR!”
“The
Cobra?” Morton was visibly shocked. Lee’s prized red Shelby Cobra was the one
constant besides Seaview in his friend’s life. Caution reigned, BIG time! “I’m not sure I understand, Lee. Is something wrong with the car?”
The NIMR motor pool treated the skipper’s treasure with equally as much reverence as her owner did. Chip couldn’t fathom ANYTHING being wrong with the well-honed, much-toned convertible.
Lee
practically squirmed. “It’s not so much
that there’s anything wrong with her, Chip.”
“Then
WHAT?” Chip’s legendary stoicism was
getting a decided workout. His heart
rate was beginning to subside as his ire rose in response to his previous
fright. “WHAT?”
“I guess …
she’s just … getting a bit old.”
“The
Cobra? Getting old? ARE YOU NUTS?” Morton’s temper, a well-hidden rarity, decided
now was as good a time as any to let loose.
“She’s a Classic! A Beauty!”
This from
the man who drove a top of the line ultra-practical SUV! His eyes gleamed like blue-flecked ice chips
(no pun intended!) in defence of the number two lady in Lee’s life. Knowing how Crane felt about the car, Chip
knew there was more to this than met the eye.
His azure
eyes narrowed speculatively. “Someone’s
put you up to this. You love that
car. No way are you gonna let her go
voluntarily. GIVE! NOW!”
Lee exhaled
in defeat. He should have known he
couldn’t fool his best friend, the one man who knew him better than any other
single individual in this life – and there were plenty, both in and out of the
Navy, who thought they knew Seaview’s captain and sometime (all too
frequently in Chip’s book) ONI agent.
“OK. Lynda’s been getting at me about changing the
car. She thinks I should trade her in
for something more … contemporary.”
Morton
snorted with a singular lack of finesse, betraying his feelings for Lee’s
current lady friend and causing Crane to glare warningly at him.
Chip raised
his hands, palms outstretched in mock surrender. He knew there was only one way to handle
this.
“Congratulations,
Lee.”
The amber
eyes shot sparks of pure gold. “And your
point is?”
“The words “hook, line and sinker” spring to mind, my friend.” Chip shook his blond head dejectedly. “I didn’t think things had progressed that far with Lynda.”
“They
haven’t!” Crane was adamant!
“Don’t
sound that way to me, pal!” And Chip was
nothing but an upright, honest friend.
“Lee, you love that car!”
“Yeah, but
she’s not new – or modern.”
“She’s not
meant to be! She’s a Classic! Probably worth more than any of the latest
BMW’s or Mercedes’ out there! She’s been
hand tooled and had the attention of every mechanic worth his salt in the motor
pool ever since you’ve had her! They
keep her running like a fine tuned racehorse!
I think they spend more time on her – marginally – than on the admiral’s
limo! It’s a labour of love on their
part.”
Slyly
Morton played his trump hand. “You gonna
tell them you’re selling her?”
Then came
the mortal blow. “Can I be there
when you tell Ski?”
He saw Crane visibly cringe. And doubt creep in. Then Chip played his ace.
“Tell you
what, Lee, if you’re selling, I’m buying.
Name your price.”
And saw Lee
collapse completely – in theory of course, not reality! No way could Lee bear to see his ever
practical, too pristine XO owning the number two love of his life. Oh, he had no problem with Chip driving her,
had implicit faith in his skill - after all he trusted his friend with his
first love, Seaview, on a regular basis.
In fact, there was no one he trusted more. But to grant ownership of his beautiful
little red Cobra elsewhere – even to his most faithful friend – caused him to
swallow hard! And maybe re-evaluate his
decision. He really didn’t want
to do this.
So why was
he doing it? Not for any of the right
reasons – was the answer that immediately sprung to mind.
Impulsively
he whirled towards his friend, snatching Chip’s cover from the coat stand
inside the office door and, tossing it like a Frisbee, watched Morton’s
startled gaze connect with his as he caught it reflexively.
“Wanna take
a ride?”
Chip’s slow
but incandescent smile almost split his face.
“In that baby? Any time, pal.”
“Feel like
telling the admiral we’re bunking off for the afternoon?”
“I will if
you will!!” Chip knew first hand that
Nelson would welcome his work-a-holic captain taking some well deserved down
time.
When Chip
stood back to allow his senior officer to precede him out the door, as protocol
demanded, Lee caught his arm. “Thanks,
pal!”
“For
what?” Morton was genuinely confused.
“For making
me see what’s what! And if not, what
should be!” And so saying, Lee bumped
his friend’s hip and pushed them both together into the doorway causing a
push/shove scuffle reminiscent of their Annapolis days – brought to an
immediate halt (sort of) at the sight of Chip’s wide eyed secretary, who had a
thousand and one urgent tasks to complete but professionally managed to stifle
her giggles – at least until the two members of Seaview’s and NIMR’s
command staff had successfully manoeuvred their way out the door.
Hitting the
button for the hotline to Nelson’s suite she gave the Institute’s Deputy
Director a two-minute heads up. “Angie,
they’re primed – and unfortunately, my love, headed your way. Oh, and I think it’s got something to
do with Lee’s car.”
A loud groan was her only acknowledgement.
****
Finis