A late first season story. Written for the "We Two" Inspirational Story Challenge.

Author's Note: This story utilizes nine different story challenge pics from Seaview Stories' "A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words," contest list. I nearly managed to include a picture for every chapter, until Chapters 9, 10, and 11; at which point, the story just begged to be told without constraints. However, I resumed my little game for the final two chapters. The challenge pics have been identified in parenthesis under the chapter headings. Enjoy. Lynn : )

Operation Traitor-Patriot

by Lynn

Chapter One

(We Two)

A salty breeze of fresh sea air brushed against Captain Crane's face, as he strolled along the wood planked boardwalk of the business establishments in the port town. The docks weren't nearly large enough for a vessel the size of Seaview, necessitating the need for the crew to come ashore aboard rubber zodiacs in shifts. Though it was Lee's first visit to this particular seaport, Seaview's crew was apparently well-acquainted with what the port had to offer and had displayed great interest in their shore leave. Pubs and bars lined the streets and were by far, the business of choice during the evening hours. Even without Seaview's crew descending upon the docks, there were ample sailors and town patrons to keep the pubs in customers on any given night.

"How much further is it?" Lee asked curiously while silently wondering how his boss and good friend had found this out-of-the-way tavern in the first place; he had lost track of how many drinking establishments they had passed about half a dozen bars ago.

"Just down the boardwalk a bit," Admiral Nelson replied casually, enjoying both the stroll and the fresh air after their extended mission in the depths. He was, in fact, in a particularly good mood, deciding that this annual tradition of visiting Finnegan's would be all the better this year. The last time he had been here was with John Phillips, Seaview's previous captain, just two months before he was murdered in a plot to stop Seaview's mission to the Arctic. He frowned slightly at the memory and purposed to dwell on happier times. The melancholy wasn't unexpected. It was in fact, typical of his emotions when he visited. The memories associated with this tavern ran the gamut of the high-spirits of victory, to the deep pain of loss. Even so, he found the good times here worth the sad remembrances. Indeed, he came to raise his glass to those very memories and it was for that purpose that he had made this yearly trek. His intention to share such a personal and private visit with Lee was a testament to the friendship and trust they had developed since his captaincy a little over a year ago.

The sun had set hours ago and the coolness of the evening had brought in the familiar fog this area was known for, adding ambience to the nostalgic boardwalk lined with classic old-fashioned spiraled light posts and adorned with lamps that looked as old as the boardwalk itself.

"Were you running from SPs when you found this place?" Lee smirked with a half-smile to go along with his good-natured tease, implying that there had to be a reason why Harry had found this out-of-the way pub in the first place.

"As a matter of fact, we were," Harry replied with a side-glance as he motioned toward their destination, about four buildings ahead. "It's actually a funny story; I was an ensign at the time. Remind me to tell you about it some time."

"Why not now?" Lee asked as they arrived at their journey's end, reaching for the heavy wooden door and pulling it open for the admiral to precede him.

The glow of bare bulbs hanging from slow moving ceiling fans lit the tavern adequately. The creak of the well-worn wooden floor under their oxford dress shoes invited a few over-the-shoulder glances from the town's regulars, while the visiting sailors ignored the new arrivals. The two officers sidled up to an empty spot at the end of the bar and waited for the bartender.

"Be with you in a few minutes, gents," the bar-keeper said without looking over as Harry let loose a thin, tight-lipped smiled. When he finally looked their way, his aged face lit up in recognition. "Well, glory be! If it isn't Nelson, me lad!" he bellowed out. "Oh, but it's Admiral now. I shan't be forgetting that!" he added with a wink, tossing a well-used towel to rest over his shoulder as he stepped forward.

"Hello Mac," Harry replied, his grin widening.

"Good to see you Admiral Nelson, and who is this strapping young lad with you? You haven't forgot your manners, have you?" he joked, hastily wiping his hands on another towel wrapped around his waist before reaching out for a shake.

"Lee Crane, meet Mac, the best bar-keeper in the business. Just don't order the Blarney Special," he added with a wink.

"Mackenzie's the name, but all the lads call me Mac," the jubilant man replied as he shook Lee's hand vigorously. "And a commander he be! Such a young lad to be wearing all those fancy bars," he continued, slapping both hands down on the weathered oak bar and leaning forward. "Now lad, I know what this old sea salt will have," he said with a nod toward Harry. "What's your fancy?"

Lee smiled at the colorful bartender. "Beer," he answered, leaning against the bar and deciding to forego Harry's bait regarding the Blarney Special.

"A beer it be," Mac acknowledged, reaching for two large mugs from the old oak case behind him, its patina boasting of years of liquid cheer served in this charming bar from yesteryear. Mac whistled an Irish tune cheerily, obviously pleased at seeing the admiral, as he filled both mugs with an extra hearty beer bearing impressive heads of foam on top.

Lee grinned when he saw that Harry's choice was a draft as well.

"What? No Blarney Special today?" he joked good-naturedly.

"I've had it several times, but only when I've had a good two day leave to sleep it off," Harry answered with his own grin as Mac returned.

"Here be your drinks, lads," Mac announced, thumping the frothy mugs before each one, and noticing Lee's raised eyebrow. "Oh, I know he be an admiral and all, but I've known Harry here since he was a wee ensign and still wet behind the ears!" A hearty laugh followed as Mac left the officers to their drinks to tend to other patrons.

"He's quite a character," Lee noted good-naturedly as he reached for his mug.

"He's one of the best; a bit flamboyant, but a fine man."

"Leave it to you to find an Irish pub in the middle of the South Pacific," Lee added, barely hiding his smile behind his raised mug. He took a drink and smiled appreciatively. "That's good stuff."

"Only the best here at Finnegan's," the Admiral responded nostalgically.

"So, what about that story of how you found this place? I mean, Harriman Nelson running from SPs?" Lee coaxed, amused at the possibilities.

"Well, it wasn't exactly us they were after, but we apparently fit their descriptions pretty well, and we didn't want to spend our liberty sorting it out. So, we took off running and ducked inside once we were clear."

"We?"

"Jiggs and I, it was our last assignment together before we were transferred to different classes at Groton."

Lee nodded, he was aware that Starke's rotation for submarine training at Groton, Connecticut was a full six months before Harry.

"Well, Shore Patrol caught up with us," Harry continued with an obvious twinkle in his blue eyes as Lee took the last swig from his mug, urging him to continue with a raised brow. "But we managed to duck behind a couple of chairs," he said with a tilt of his head toward a currently occupied table in the corner. "The chairs happened to be occupied at the time by some very lovely ladies who found the situation amusing. They kept up our ruse by urging us to hide under the table where the table cloth would conceal us."

"Under the table?" Lee smirked.

"Errrr, yes," Harry replied clearing his throat and grinning. "And as you can imagine, two sailors under the table with two sets of feminine legs staring back at us was quite the experience."

Lee took that moment to chuckle out loud as Harry continued, completely unfazed.

"We were of course, both officers and gentlemen and behaved ourselves grandly, to which we were rewarded with the company of the ladies, I did tell you that they were quite lovely, didn't I?" he asked rhetorically as Mac placed two more mugs before them. "Once the SPs left, we learned that the two were sisters, daughters as it turned out, of a visiting admiral whose family had flown out for a holiday of sorts. Now, that part we didn't find out until nearly the end of the evening when Daddy Admiral came in to collect his offspring from the pub, which he considered too rough for his unescorted daughters."

Lee laughed, barely keeping in his swallow and working hard to keep the decorum his rank demanded, but he was clearly enjoying the tale.

"Fortunately, for us, the admiral was pleased that his daughters were in our care, and the young ladies were kind enough not to mention the fact that they had saved us from shore patrol, or that we had taken refuge under their table. So, we were allowed to escort them back to the hotel, in the presence of the admiral of course," he finished, taking a swig of his beer and smiling thinly.

"And?" Lee goaded.

"And we said goodnight, adieu, farewell… and never saw the young ladies again at the request of Daddy Admiral," Harry finished with his own chuckle.

Lee joined in the laughter, his eyes twinkling with the humorous story the Admiral had so grandly shared. He had come to really appreciate these moments. It was more than the colorful stories Harry shared of his exciting life, or the camaraderie the two shared. It was a special friendship with a man he respected greatly; a mentor who had earned his trust and admiration; and a father-like friendship that wasn't pushy or overbearing.

Harry's chuckle waned and his smile turned almost melancholy as he swallowed another mouthful from his mug and stared off into the distance.

"So, that explains how you found the place," Lee said, noticing Harry's change of mood and sensing that there was more to this story. "But why do you keep coming back year after year?"

Harry's cheek twitched as he blew a heavy breath, fueled by an apparent burden he kept deep inside.

"There's a lot of history in this place; a lot of memories. Most are good…" he answered vaguely.

Lee nodded and leaned forward, wrapping both hands around his mug. "You don't have to tell me, Admiral," he replied, realizing he had stumbled upon something far more private than he had anticipated.

Harry cracked a small smile, purposely pushing through the heavy emotions this place always elicited. "I'll tell you about it someday, Lee. Right now, let's just say that I come here to salute old comrades, as well as to visit old friends," he said with a tilt of his head toward Mac.

"To old comrades then," Lee toasted, raising his glass respectfully, knowing full-well the pain of comrades lost and privileged to have been included in this moment.

"And to new ones as well," Harry added clinking mugs and offering tribute to his present company. He emptied the contents and called to Mac. "How about one more for the road?"

"Just one more?" the bartender inquired from the other end of the bar, his once flaming red hair dulled grey by age. "Why, I remember when this lad could drink his mates under the table. Of course, he'd have to be helped out the door at the end of the night, but that was usually with the help of a few fair lasses," he added with a belly laugh as he brought over three mugs, setting one before each of the officers and taking a mug for himself.

"You, my friend, can still spin quite a yarn," Harry replied with a grin in faux admonishment for spilling the beans on his past drinking escapades. "Now, what do we drink to this year, Mac?"

"He asks me the same thing every year," Mac explained to Lee, "And every year we drink to the same thing," he said lifting he glass and speaking in a rich Irish accent. "May the winds of fortune sail you. May you sail a gentle sea." He paused as at the somber sentiment and then broke into a smile as he completed the toast. "And may it always be the other guy, who says this drink's on me!" he finished to a hearty "Slainte"* from all three men, who proceeded to guzzle down the entire contents before completing the toast by slamming the empty mug down on the bar in a hearty thud. "Till next year, Admiral Nelson," he added with a wide grin and a handshake. "And you too, Commander Crane. You hold your liquor as well as Admiral Nelson here," he complimented.

Harry pulled out a large bill to generously cover both the drinks and the tip and slid it under his empty mug.

"Until next year, Mac," he announced as he and Lee stepped away from the bar.

"And so it shall be, Admiral me Lad," Mac returned with a nod before clearing away the empty mugs and returning whistling an Irish tune gaily rendered as he wiped down the bar.

# # # # #

"Thank you, Admiral, next time it's on me," Lee offered, to Harry's dismissive nod as they walked along the boardwalk. Lee took a deep breath of the salty sea air into his lungs as they walked a leisurely pace back to Seaview. "You've made a point to visit here every year since you were an ensign?" he asked casually.

"Well, not every year. There were quite a few years out of my control, but I've made it a priority to make it back here one way or the other for a good part of those years."

Lee nodded, he understood that whatever memory had prompted these yearly visits was extremely personal and private for Harry, and he had no intention of probing further.

"It used to be a bitter trip," the admiral admitted, sliding his hands into his pockets and slowing their pace, presumably to ensure their privacy. "But Mac's perceptiveness and good ear turned it to almost bearable."

"Almost?" Lee questioned as his brow tightened in concern.

"Lost shipmates are never forgotten, you know that," Harry spoke philosophically. Lee nodded. "I used to come here to mourn them, but now I'd like to believe I come here to celebrate them. That toast Mac gave?" Harry continued rhetorically. "That's the toast my shipmates and I used when we visited here nearly twenty-five years ago. I sort of blurted it out to Mac on one of my returning visits and from that time on he's the one who makes the toast for me… for all of us."

Lee breathed in deeply, releasing a silent blow of breath for the heavy emotions of the moment. He'd known Harriman Nelson long enough to know that candid moments like these were rare and that he'd been entrusted with a very personal part of Harry's past.

"I'm honored to have shared the toast with you," he replied solemnly, understanding from his own experiences the weight a man silently carried when comrades are lost.

Harry smiled slightly and then nodded, allowing the smile to fade before releasing a cleansing breath. "What do you say we grab a late dinner before heading back to the boat," he stated more than asked and more than ready to move on.

"Sounds good, got any suggestions?" Lee asked rhetorically knowing Harry already had this port town well-scoped out and no doubt would point them in them in the direction of the best restaurant on the island.

"There's a little hole-in-the-wall that serves…"

A blinding pain interrupted his sentence and then there was nothing but blackness.

# # # # #

*pronounced "slawn-CHA" meaning "Health" the Irish equivalence to "Cheers!"