A Voice from the Shadows

I don't own these characters-I just like to hang out with them.

Chapter one

Waves crashed on the rocky shore and voices echoed in the mist. Distant voices that he knew: voices from the past. A solitary figure stood on a cliff, staring at the ocean below. The figure's thoughts centered on the rhythm of the surf. Alone. He was alone. Again. An overwhelming sense of foreboding filled him and he turned, catching a glimpse of someone behind him in the shadows. The body moved out of sight and before he could stop it, disappeared. "Wait!" he cried. "Don't go! Please! Come back!"

"Admiral! Admiral, are you there?" The voice of his Executive Officer Chip Morton dragged Admiral Harriman Nelson back from his dream. The same dream he'd had every night since the Seaview had arrived off the coast of San Marco. Nelson raised his head and realized he had fallen asleep at his desk while waiting for news.

He ran a hand through his red hair and pressed the button on the intercom.

"I...I'm here, Mr. Morton. Is there any word?"

"None, sir. He missed the last two check-ins. What are your orders?"

Morton's voice betrayed the worry he felt over his friend, Lee Crane who had gone to the island of San Marco almost three days ago to complete a mission for the government. Word had reached Washington of the possibility that the government of San Marco had developed a biological weapon and was prepared to use it against its own people in a radical attempt at ending a fifteen-year long revolution. Lee had gone ashore to establish the validity of the accusation. He was to have met members of the rebel forces who were to take him to the development site. His orders were to establish the level of progress and report in every four hours. The first check-ins had gone as planned, but the last two hadn't. It was now over eight hours since they'd had any contact with him.

Nelson rubbed his weary eyes and reached a decision.

"Chip, I want a combat team of five men to meet me in the Control Room in twenty minutes. No, make that fifteen. I want them armed with side arms and dressed in jungle fatigues. I also want them fitted out with rifles from the arms locker and equipped with all the necessary provisions and equipment for several days. Take volunteers only. Out."

"Aye, sir!"

Nelson rose from his chair, walked to his closet and took out his fatigues, trying to put the dream from his mind as he dressed. Why? Why that dream again? It had been so long ago. It was part of his past and had nothing to do with the present. He had to stop thinking of it. He had a mission to complete and a friend to find.

VVVVV

Fifteen minutes later, Nelson strode into the Control Room to find most of his team already waiting. Chief Francis Sharkey, Seamen Kowalski, Patterson and Wolfe stood checking their side arms.

"I asked for five men. Is this all that volunteered?"

"No, sir," said a voice from behind him. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I had to make sure Lt. O'Brien knew the orders," Chip Morton said as he walked into the Control Room and buckled on his side arm.

"Chip..." Nelson began.

"I know, sir. You want me to stay here and keep an eye on things. I can't. He's my friend too and I can't just stay here when he might be in big trouble. Not this time." Staring hard at the admiral, he waited for Nelson to order him to stay behind.

Not accustomed to Morton challenging his orders, Nelson gave him a hard look, debating what to do. Lee and Chip were good friends and Nelson felt, in some way, like a father, or a big brother perhaps to them both. He would have liked to protect them, but he understood what Chip wanted.

"All right," Nelson agreed after a moment. "This time, you win."

"Listen up. We'll head to the same beach the captain landed on and work our way inland, searching for any clues to tell us which way to go. Any questions? All right. Let's move out."

The landing party climbed the ladder to the deck of the submarine and boarded a rubber raft that had been placed against the hull.

Several minutes later, they scrambled up the rocky coast and hid the raft, extra provisions and a spare radio in a large crevice. Nelson stopped for a moment and looked about, seeing the familiar shoreline and cliffs. The memory of the dream came back to him, overwhelming him, and for a moment his senses swam.

No. It couldn't be. It was so long ago. It...

"Admiral? Are you all right, sir?" Morton had reached out a hand to steady his commanding officer.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's... just been a long time. A long, long time," he said softly as he looked about at the desolate coastline. A steep cliff rose in front of them. The only way to the top was a narrow, rocky track.

"You've been here before, sir?" Sharkey asked.

"Yes, Chief. A lifetime ago," the admiral said sadly as he began to climb the rocky trail up the cliff.

The others stared after the admiral in puzzlement and then began the climb.

They reached the top of the rocky bluff in short order and searched about for any sign that Crane had been there.

"Kowalski, you and Wolfe head in that direction and search for any sign of someone having passed through recently. Chip, you and Patterson go that way and Chief, you come with me."

"Admiral!" Chip yelled a few minutes later. "Over here!"

Nelson and the others raced off in the direction of Morton's voice.

"Here, sir," Morton said pointing to the ground. "Branches have been hacked away with a knife or machete. It looks like a trail."

Examining the ground, Nelson agreed that someone recently had passed through.

"Chip, contact Mr. O'Brien and tell him we've found a trail we hope is Crane's. We'll check in every four hours."

"All right. Let's move out. Quietly. Keep your eyes open," Nelson said when Chip had completed the transmission.

The small force moved off down the trail, eyes moving from side to side in their search.

After four hours, Nelson called a halt. They moved off the trail and settled in a sheltered cove for a rest.

"Nelson to Seaview. Nelson to Seaview. Come in Seaview," Nelson called quietly into the radio.

"This is Seaview. Go ahead, Admiral," answered Lt. O'Brien.

"Bobby, we've found no sign of Crane other than the trail. We'll continue searching and keep in touch. Any problems on your end?"

"Not really a problem, sir. There seems to be some activity on the surface. The ships profile as destroyers."

"Are they in a search pattern?" Nelson asked, concerned. O'Brien was capable but young. If it came down to a fight, he hoped Bobby was up for it.

"No sir. They just seem to be...sitting there. They're about 4000 yards off our port bow and stationary."

Running his thumb over his bottom lip, Nelson was quiet for a moment as he pondered possible scenarios. The government of San Marco was not on good terms with the United States. If they had any inkling that a U.S. submarine was in its waters, they wouldn't hesitate to bomb it.

"Bobby, head slowly to deeper waters," he said after a moment. "Don't give those destroyers any reason to know you're there. Understand? Keep alert. If there's trouble, contact me immediately."

"I understand, Admiral. Good luck in finding the Skipper. Seaview out."

"Bobby's a good officer, sir. You don't have to worry about him," Morton said quietly as he sat down beside Nelson, knowing the other man was concerned.

Nelson nodded slowly. "I know, Chip. He wouldn't be on Seaview if I had any doubts about him or his ability to command." Nelson sat for a time, staring off into the jungle. Questions that seemed to have no answers filled his mind. Where was Crane? What had happened? And what were those destroyers doing hanging about? Did they know the Seaview was there? He rubbed a hand over his eyes and leaned his head back. If only he had the answers.

"You look tired, sir." Morton said, with a touch of worry in his voice.

"I'm all right, Chip," Nelson said quietly as he turned his head to look at his exec and smiled slightly. "I...I just haven't slept well lately."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with our missing captain would it?"

"That...and other things, Chip."

Morton turned to look at Nelson and noticed a sadness in his eyes. "Anything you want to talk about?" he asked softly, hoping he wasn't intruding on Nelson's personal space.

For a long time Nelson was quiet and Chip began to think Nelson hadn't heard him or was ignoring the question.

"I was here a long time ago, Chip," he began in a voice so soft, Morton had to strain to hear. "It was at the beginning of the revolution when the rebels were seeking American backing for their cause. I was sent here to scope out the needs of the rebels and the logistics of American support." Nelson closed his eyes and tried to block out the memories, but they flooded back anyway and he became lost in another time.

"Sir?" Morton's concerned voice brought Nelson back to the present. "Are you all right?"

Nelson jerked his head up and turned away from Morton for a moment.

"Yes, Chip. I'm fine. It's just that there are too many memories here. Memories I thought were gone. Anyway, I ended up being here for about six months. I lived with the rebels, ate with them and, at times, fought with them against the government forces. At the end of that time I...," Nelson stopped for just a moment. "I came home. End of story," he said abruptly, standing up and heading back towards the trail.

"All right. Let's get moving again," Nelson said gruffly.

Chip climbed to his feet and looked questioningly at the back of the retreating admiral. There was more to it than what the admiral had said. Something he had left unsaid had happened here. Something that had affected the admiral in some way had taken place. Chip shrugged and followed the others down the trail. If and when Nelson wanted to talk about it, he would be there to listen.