In Limbo Lost

by kashkow

Another old story reposted here. As usual set in my own version of Irwin Allen's wonderful universe. Thanks for the reviews so far....

Authors note: No I don't own them. I would like to place a bid, however. Takes place some time after "Return of the Phantom". Please review. Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed my first fanfic. I really appreciate your responses. Thanks to my beta Helen. Don't blame her, she's as new at this as I am.

In Limbo Lost by kashkow

Lee Crane walked toward the Seaview, reading the report he held in his hands as his feet traveled the familiar path without any guidance from his mind. His brow was furrowed over what he was reading, and he didn't seem to notice the people, mostly crewmen, passing him with smiles. Everyone was used to the intense young captain. His slim form was encased in the dark blue uniform he had donned for a meeting with Navy brass at the San Diego base, south of N.I.M.R. He was not fond of having to spend time with officers that he thought of as desk jockeys, much less so when they were second guessing Admiral Harriman Nelson's decisions about how things got done.

As long as the results were within the mission parameters, they should be happy. The Admiral had saved the world several times over. Surely the Navy could cut him a little slack on procedural issues! But, in the manner of bureaucrats everywhere, they had wanted to go over, and question, every little detail. This was the last time Lee volunteered to take care of a mission review for the Admiral. He didn't care if the president had called Nelson and wanted him in Washington immediately, there were more important things, like his own sanity, and his blood pressure. Surely it couldn't be good for a person to have to hold in the sarcastic and caustic comments that had come to mind as the various "superior" officers had picked apart the mission report comma by comma! Better not let Jaime get a hold of him now, he'd be beached for sure.

He continued to read over the maintenance report, his mind absently ticking off the things he wanted to go check on personally. The maintenance crew might be happy with it, but only the best was good enough for Seaview. He would accept nothing less, and the maintenance knew and accepted that their job wasn't done until Crane looked it over and approved. He didn't bother to look up as he went up the gang plank, absently saluting the flag, and onto the Seaview's metal deck, stepping over the davits that he knew were there, and moving toward the aft section of the giant submarine where welders were still working on the port dive plane.

Chip Morton, Executive Officer of the Seaview, and Lee Crane's best friend, was overseeing the welding, and turned to watch as his Captain made his way down the deck He shook his head in amusement as he watched Lee navigate flawlessly through the various deck hazards without seemingly looking up from his report. Anyone else would end up on their face, or over the side, but not Lee. Morton placed his hands on his hips and put on his sternest face.

"Can you explain the increased use of toilet paper during the mission Commander Crane, our projections only made provisions for 73.2 of your reported usage."

"My Executive Office has a weak stomach. He spent most of the cruise in the head, I'll have him write up a report in triplicate for you immediately." Lee still didn't look up from the report, as Chip mock scowled at his reply. He flipped the last page then closed the report folder and looked at Chip. "Any progress?"

Chip snorted. "I'm beginning to think these guys have never seen a welder before. Sharkey would have had it done two hours ago." The Chief had taken leave to see to a sick uncle on the East coast and had not yet returned, he was due back anytime. No one else aboard was a qualified welder, and so they had gotten stuck with the men that Maintenance had sent in. As the two officers watched, the welder killed his torch and stepped back from the repair work. He pulled off the helmet and looked up to the deck.

"That's got it Captain. You shouldn't have any problem now."

"Thank you. How long will it take for you to move out your equipment?"

"About an hour. We'll get it done A.S.A.P"

"All right. Thanks again." Lee tugged Chip away from the repair area by one arm, and they went to stand near the Conning Tower. "When they are done moving out the equipment, but before they move the support platform, slip down and take a look at the work."

"Got it. Where will you be?" Chip asked, already knowing the answer.

Lee waved the report, and smiled at Chip's grin. "It never hurts to be sure," he said. His friend often kidded him about being overprotective of the boat and crew. He simply felt it was his job. He was responsible for them all. He also just liked to tour his boat, the fact he had a good reason to do so just added to the pleasure.

Crane went below as Chip moved back aft, taking a moment to watch as supplies were lowered into the aft hatch. He knew Kowalski was below, acting in the Chief's stead, to be sure that everything was stowed correctly. Chip grinned again. He was sure that Lee would be stopping by the storage, in his regular pre-mission walk about the boat. Not to be confused with the regular daily walking tour, or the post mission tour. He moved on to the tail, and watched as the men began dismantling their welding apparatus. He sighed. This could take a while if their welding performance was any indication. He made a mental note to send a memo to the head of Maintenance regarding training his people better. He had been just about ready to go do it himself when Lee showed up.

His eyes were drawn to movement on the dock. The compact form of Admiral Harriman Nelson was striding down the dock at full speed. Chip knew that walk and the look on Nelson's face. He leaned over the side. "Get a move on, we need that equipment off now." He suspected he wasn't going to get much of a chance to inspect the weld. He moved forward and directed one of the junior officers who had been supervising the loading of supplies back to watch the welders, and hurry them along. He wanted to see what had the Admiral in such a state.

Chapter 2-

Harriman Nelson was not a man used to things not going his way. He had always been blessed, or cursed, with a drive to succeed in whatever he turned his mind to, and the vagrancies of nature and other humans sometimes served to really piss him off. He had been trying to reach the Institute, and through them, Lee Crane, since he had left Washington. The scheduled periodic maintenance on the FS 1, his small flying submarine, had not allowed him to travel as he usually did, and the common carrier he had used had been delayed at every stopover. In addition the cell phone communications satellite that link East and West had suffered a breakdown a day previously, and now that communications were restored, the circuits were overloaded, so he had been unable to get a call through. When he had reached Denver, he had found the regular land-based trunk lines too crowded to get through also, and he had given up and simply flown on to Santa Barbara. The Seaview was being made ready to sail, tomorrow if everything was on schedule, and Lee would be able to move up the sail time if necessary, and it was.

Upon reaching the Institute, he had stopped briefly in his office, dropping off all the papers he had taken with him to work on in-flight, and to see if anything urgent had come in since he had last spoken with Angie. Having completed that, he found out that Lee and Chip were both at the boat, and he headed off in that direction, striding confidently through the grounds of his creation, the Nelson Institute of Marine Research.

He nodded at several members of the crew who were moving about doing various jobs, and he realized that as it was less than 24 hours before sailing time, the entire crew should be there. Lee had instituted the requirement not long after taking over from John Phillips. It had been another unpopular rule among the crew until it had become clear that the reason Crane wanted the crew there was for their own safety. When the crew had a chance to double check their areas, before leaving base, there were fewer problems at sea where even a small problem could become critical. Also, it had cut down on the post-leave hangovers that Jaime had to treat the first day out.

Nelson sped up his steps as he approached his boat, even as he did so taking a moment to marvel at the reality of his dream. He had seen Chip, on the aft end of the deck, speak to a junior officer and then head toward the conning tower, so he suspected that both Lee and Chip would be awaiting him in the control room. He appreciated having officers that could read his mind, or at least his body language. It saved quite a bit of time, and made the boat run very efficiently.

He boarded the boat, and went down the main hatch, stopping only briefly to speak to the officer of the deck stationed in the conning tower. He swung down the ladder easily, having long practice with the act. Chip was at the chart table, going over a checklist, and as he turned, Lee entered the control room through the aft hatch, wiping his hands on a rag.

"You know most Captains don't get their hands dirty," he said, smiling at the younger man, who gave him a sheepish grin in response. "That's what we pay the ratings for you know." He wouldn't have Lee Crane any other way, but teasing was a prerogative of old friends. "I need to speak with you both." He dropped the smile, and moved forward toward the nose.

"Nelson's front porch" he had heard it called among the crew. The great Herculite windows of the Seaview were just one of the features that made her so different from other submarines, but they were the most noticeable, and the one that Nelson enjoyed the most. He and his officers settled in the chairs around the table, and the two younger men focused their attention on the Admiral.

"As you know, the President called me to Washington two days ago, on 'important business', no further information forthcoming. I saw him yesterday, and have spent the remaining time there talking to various people at Atlantic sub command." Both of the younger officers sat up straighter at this, sensing that what was coming wasn't going to be good.

"At 2130 the day before yesterday the USS Stratego sank off New Foundland. Her crew escaped, with just one casualty." He paused, not wanting to say the words. "The casualty was Edward Lewis, the Captain." He saw the impact on both Crane and Morton. "There's more, they are saying that it was Lewis' fault the boat went down."

Chip sat back in his chair, and swore under his breath. Lee sat for a moment, his golden eyes locked with Nelson's. Then he slowly shook his head and spoke. "Bullshit."

Chip snorted. Nelson smiled slowly, and nodded. "That was my response when they told me. Ed Lewis knew more about those Sea Wolf class Subs then anyone short of the designers. But that's not the kicker." His face became serious. "The Executive Officer and the Second Officer are saying that Ed was 'acting oddly' beforehand, that while they were off duty, he ordered everyone out of the Auxiliary Control Room, and locked himself in. He then proceeded to ram the ship into the side of a seamount, breaching the side and flooding 8 compartments. They say they tried to contact him over the intercom, but he was raving about someone trying to take over the boat and wouldn't let anyone in. He had control of the watertight doors from the Auxiliary Control Room, and the entire sub was flooding. The crew evacuated through the escape hatch, leaving Lewis to go down with the boat. It's lying at about 800 ft. They already sent down the robot cameras. The conning tower was ripped away, and the bow separated at impact. No chance for Lewis to survive. They couldn't find the body, it was too constricted for the robots to enter."

Lee leaned back in his chair, and looked at Nelson. One hand, curled in a fist, rested on the table. "And they want us to do what?"

"Retrieve her missiles. She was loaded with 12 cruise missiles and 5 minutemen. The bow landed on its port side, against a small mound. No easy access. Two of the regular salvage boats are in the Pacific working on that mess near Hawaii. The Atlantic retrieval boat is in the Mediterranean, and can't be freed up for at least a week. We are to go in get the missiles, transport them to Newport…"

"And forget about the fact the Ed Lewis is being accused of destroying his own boat," Crane interrupted. It was unthinkable to him. No Captain in his right mind would destroy his boat, and Ed Lewis was on of the steadiest, sanest, people he had ever met. A contemporary, and friend, of Nelson, Lewis had been a teacher at the Groton Sub school when Lee Crane had entered it after the Academy. He had been the practical skills instructor, taking the students out to sea for 'on the job training' as he called it. Lee had learned a lot from the man, not the least of which was how a Captain needed to know his vessel from stem to stern, each rivet and pipe. No one could love boats like Lewis did and send one to the bottom.

Nelson frowned at the interruption, but he too felt the same anger at the accusations that were being leveled at a man he had considered a friend for over 40 years. They had gone to the Academy together, and while not the close friends that Lee and Chip were, they had kept in touch over the years. Nelson's meteoric rise through the ranks to Admiral had not harmed the friendship. Ed Lewis had been content with his boats, refusing promotions that would take him away from the sea. He had been on his last tour. Nelson had expected him to retire, rather than accept desk duty. Lewis and his wife, Donna, had a small home on a lonely peninsula along the Maine coast. Ed had a small sailboat that he had been working on for years, and had planned to sail around the world.

Nelson made a mental note to call Donna when the phones where once again working. He raised a placating hand. "I don't have to tell you how the Washington brass view this. Bad publicity, even a hint of a problem involving weapons being lost, makes them run like hell to cover it all up. We go and do the job they assigned us, and if we should happen to find some evidence as to what actually happened, all the better."

Both junior officers nodded, though Lee looked as if he wanted to add something more. Chip, seeing the familiar light in Lee's eyes, stepped in to calm his anger at the situation. Chip had trained under another officer, but he had met Lewis on several occasions, and had liked the older man. He understood that Lee was reacting not just as a friend, but also as a captain. Lee would never do anything to endanger the Seaview or her crew, at least not in his right mind. Like Nelson and Lee, Chip had a hard time seeing the Edward Lewis he had known being deranged enough to do both. He reached a hand out and tugged at Crane's arm. "Come on Lee. The sooner we get there, the sooner you can prove them all wrong. I'll check the crew readiness, and you get the course set."

For a moment Lee resisted his friend's tug on his arm. Chip was always silently amazed by the sheer stubborn strength in that thin frame. He watched as Nelson nodded to Lee, a silent communication between the two men. Then Crane rose to his feet and started to move toward the chart table. "You can let go now," he said to Chip. " Did you get a chance to check the dive plane?"

"No time yet."

"I'll check the crew roster, and have O'Brien start on the course. He needs the practice, and I want someone to look that weld over before we sail. When will the supplies be loaded?"

"They'll have it all on by 1600."

"Good. We'll plan to go out on the tide at 1745."

Chip nodded, and the two men moved aft into the control room, still talking about specifics of getting the massive boat underway.

Nelson leaned back in his chair, and watched the two men walk away. He knew what was behind Lee's anger. He also knew the anger that he felt at the injustice that was being done his friend, and he was sure that it WAS an injustice. He just wasn't sure how he was going to prove that. A wrecked submarine at 800 feet would not yield up a lot of clues. If the robots couldn't enter the wreck, divers in the deep diving suits that Seaview carried would certainly not be able to do so without cutting their way in. He needed a plan. He lit a cigarette, and leaned back to contemplate the view from the windows and think.

Chapter 3

The Seaview had arrived at the wreck site, a spot marked by a buoy and the presence of a destroyer, the Edger Mathews, standing off about 300 yards from the buoy. An extended repair at the nearby refit yard had kept the destroyer back behind her battle group. It had been less than an hour away when the distress call had gone out from the Stratego. Since the destroyer was there, and the brass were very nervous, she had been ordered to stand by. No chance was being taken regarding the salvage of the warheads. The Seaview hailed the destroyer, and it was agreed that the Captain, Tina Hopkins, would meet with the Seaview's officers on Seaview. She motored over in her skiff, and was escorted to the nose by a rating.

A petite dark haired woman in her late 40's, Tina Hopkins exuded force and competence. She was a Captain, and you would respect her for that if nothing else. She gave the customary amazed look at the Herculite windows, and looked around the spacious control room, before they closed the crash doors. As she seated herself at the table she looked at Nelson and grinned, "Admiral I must say that your boat is the only submarine I would even consider spending any time in. It's magnificent."

"Thank you Captain. Do you have any update on the situation?"

"No sir. All of the crew of the Stratego, with the exception one rating who had a punctured eardrum and needed surgery, is still on board the Mathews as per your request. I understand that you wanted to speak with them?" The last was said with a curious look in Nelson's direction One did not question an Admiral outright.

"Yes, I have some… questions regarding the sequence of events that took place prior to the incident. I didn't want the crew dispersing before I had a chance to question them."

"What is it that you think you'll find? The N.I.C. has questioned everyone involved. Most of the crew didn't even know what was going on until the alarms went off and they were told to evacuate."

"Did you know Captain Lewis?" Lee asked before the Admiral could answer.

Hopkins turned to him in surprise. She wasn't used to the looser protocol on the Seaview that allowed a Commander, even one that captained the boat, to interrupt a conversation with an Admiral. A quick glance at Nelson assured her that this was not out of the ordinary for this boat, and she addressed the young, dark haired man who sat across the table from her. She had been intrigued to meet this man. Rumors attributed all kinds of adventures to him. He looked too young to command such a vessel as the Seaview. Some of her junior officers on board the Mathews were older. One rumor was true. The man was a looker!

"I met him once, at a party in Norfolk. He was with his wife." She frowned. "And I think we were in a war game together, opposite sides though. Why?" Destroyers and submarines were traditional enemies; during a war game they would have been opponents.

"He wouldn't have done this, no more than you would intentionally run your ship aground."

"According to his XO he was acting strange, like he was on drugs or something."

"Did he strike you as someone who used drugs? Do you think he got to where he was by using?"

Nelson raised a hand to stop Lee from going on. He turned to Hopkins. "We did know Ed Lewis. Knew him very well in my case. He didn't use drugs. He had just taken and passed his annual physical. He was in perfect health. If he was drugged, it was involuntary, and I want to know who did it."

Hopkins frowned. That put a whole new spin on the story. "Are you saying that the XO and the Second were lying?"

"I don't know. That's what we want to find out, and why we want to question the crew. I understand that quarters are tight onboard your ship. We can take some of them off your hands. Preferably the officers involved, and any crewman who was on control room duty that night."

Hopkins nodded. "I'll make the arrangements. I assume you don't want me to mention why you want them aboard."

"Please." Nelson sat back in his chair. "You understand that you will continue to stand by, and take the missiles on board as they are salvaged."

"Yes Sir. Atlantic Command made it clear that they wanted us here throughout the salvage operations. They are very concerned about…. scavengers. Not that the Seaview couldn't take care of them, I'm sure." She didn't want to offend an Admiral, even a retired one. Especially not this retired admiral.

"Indeed, but if the Seaview is concentrating on the salvage we won't have time to fight off any buzzards. For instance, the submarine standing off about 2 miles East; they wouldn't answer our radio call, and since we are in international waters we can't exactly send them on their way."

Hopkins couldn't hide her surprise. Her head snapped around to lock a steely gaze on the lieutenant who had come aboard with her. "You had the bridge last watch, was anything reported?" she growled. Nelson hid a smile behind a cough, and saw Chip duck his head to hide a smirk. Lee looked on impassively. There was a strange light in his Captain's eye, and Nelson wasn't sure what thoughts were going through Crane's mind.

"No Ma'am! Nothing was reported from sonar or hydrophone during my watch. Maybe they just came?" the Lieutenant added hopefully.

Lee shook his head. "They were on the bottom, hidden between two mounds. They had been there long enough for the sediments that they kicked up to have settled back on their decks. At the very least sometime last night, probably longer."

The destroyer captain glowered at the hapless lueitenant. "When we get back I want the sonar tapes pulled for the last twenty-four hours. Find out when they got here!" Dismissing the lieutenant, who was nodding rapidly, she turned to the Admiral. "I apologize sir. Despite appearances we have your back. You can start salvage when ever you are ready."

Nelson nodded, and stood. Crane, Morton, and Hopkins also stood. "We'll let you know our schedule." He cast a glance at Lee. "Our divers are ready to go now, so there won't be much of a delay. If it's not a problem, I'd like to return to the Mathews with you and start with the questioning." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lee straighten. He knew what was coming even before the young captain got started.

"Admiral…"

Nelson held up a hand. "You'll be diving on the wreck, Captain, surely you don't object to my getting started on the questioning," he said in a perfectly reasonable tone. Chip snickered, trying to disguise it as a cough. There had been a rather heated discussion earlier regarding Crane's intention to go out with Seaview's other divers. A pointed comment regarding his qualifications being equal to every other diver scheduled was enough to take the wind out of Nelson's protests. Now Nelson was turning the tables.

Lee frowned, and swept a glance toward the visiting captain. Then he met Nelson's eyes. "I won't be going out alone, Sir," he ground out through clenched teeth.

Nelson allowed the score, and nodded, "Very well, I'll take Sharkey with me. Will that satisfy you?"

Crane still wasn't pleased. Something was going on, something deadly, and he wanted the Admiral protected. He would just have to speak to Sharkey. "Of course, sir. Whatever you say." With a patently fake smile he headed toward the controls for the crash doors. He needed to speak to Sharkey quickly, before the Admiral could prepare to leave the boat.

"Not noticeably," Nelson muttered, and smiled at the visiting Naval officers who had watched the exchange in amazement. "I need to get a few things from my office, I'll be right with you. I'm sure Mr. Morton can keep you entertained while you wait." He headed toward the spiral stairs; with one last glance after Crane. He wasn't sure what it was, but he enjoyed tweaking Lee's knee-jerk protective streak. The fact that he reciprocated the concern for his young captain was not something that he contemplated. He suspected that he would be hearing more about his decision to question the crew of the Stratego on his own, later. Lee wasn't shy about sharing his feelings, only circumspect before strangers.

Chip, amused smile firmly squashed beneath the perfect XO exterior he projected, motioned for the visitors to follow in the wake of the Captain, who was already in deep discussion with Sharkey at the rear of the control room. "Perhaps you would like to see some of the boat before you go? I can give you the nickel tour while you wait." As he moved forward he winked at Crane as he turned back toward the chart table, his business with Sharkey finished. Lee flashed him a grin, and gave twisted nod of his head.

Chip knew what he was up to, and condoned the action. He was glad someone was going with the Admiral, and Sharkey was like a pit bull when it came to protecting 'his' officers. The chief had left the control room through the aft hatch, and Morton suspected that he would be heading toward the armory. He was equally glad that the Admiral had left the other men he could have chosen, such as Kowalski, Patterson, or Riley behind. They were all expert divers, and they would be going out with Lee.

Chip knew that he had to remain at the conn; with both the Captain and Admiral off the boat, his presence was mandatory, but he didn't have to like sending a friend out into what amounted to the most hostile environment on earth without the best equipment and the best help. Also, between Kowalski, Patterson and Riley, they should be able to keep Lee out of trouble. With another suppressed grin, Chip began his tour guide act.

Chapter 4-

Kowalski pushed open the hatch to the escape chamber, and turned to help Patterson carry the piece of wreckage that they had brought in with them. The dive, one of what Kowalski suspected would be many, had gone smoothly, except for that little incident when the Skipper had decided he was going to work his way forward through the bow section, alone, and the XO had nearly climbed through the radio. The Skipper had gone anyway, the XO had used a few words that Ski wanted to write down for later use. However, they now had a good idea of where the warheads were, and what had to be done to remove them from the wreck. Each of the ratings had held his breath when the Skipper had moved toward the remainder of the Stratego, expecting him to attempt to enter it as well, but he had not. A quick glace had shown Kowalski why. The bulkheads had crumpled all along the open end and nothing could get through without a torch, which they didn't have with them. The backward look that the Skipper gave the wreck suggested to Ski that next time there would be a torch, and the Skipper would once again enter the wreck despite the XO's protests.

Ski hadn't heard the full story he was sure, but scuttlebutt had given him a pretty good idea of what had happened, or what was supposed to have happened, on the Stratego. The fact that the Skipper and the Admiral not only knew, but respected, the Captain of the doomed boat, suggested to Ski that all was not as reported, and he knew that the Skipper and the Admiral would get to the bottom of it.

The senior rating had come to respect the Admiral for his genius and his fabulous inventions that allowed Ski to go where he had never thought to go and see things he sometimes wished he hadn't seen. The Skipper, now there was something Ski hadn't expected. The ridiculously young Commander had burst onto the Seaview, full of ideas, and with a command style completely different from John Phillips, the murdered first captain of Seaview. He had not endeared himself to the crew, despite his seemingly easy heroics. And Ski had been the least impressed with the new Captain. Then, so slowly that he hadn't realized it was happening, Ski had come to respect the Skipper, and then he had come to like him. All the crew had. Their Skipper was the best, and that reflected on them all. He had never expected to honestly like a superior officer, but he did, in fact he liked the whole command crew. The Skipper was just special. Besides the Skipper needed someone to look after him. It seemed to take a whole crew just to keep the man alive sometimes.

He caught sight of something moving swiftly towards him from the hatchway, and turning his head awkwardly in the big deep diving helmet he saw Mr. Morton approaching at flank speed. He looked up and met Patterson's eyes, and they swiftly removed themselves and the piece of wreckage from the hatchway to allow the Skipper to enter the boat. No way were they getting in Mr. Morton's way! The XO was tough enough regularly, when he was angry he could flay a man with a few words. Let the Skipper deal with him.

Crane climbed awkwardly out behind Patterson, followed by Riley, who took one look at Morton and ducked after the two senior ratings as fast as his suit would allow. Crane, acting as if Morton was simply there to help him de-suit, moved toward a bench and sat down to begin removing the helmet. Morton, not to be ignored, moved behind his friend to help pull it off. He felt like pounding on it with a steel hammer, just to make sure he had Lee's attention, but he restrained himself.

Crane rotated his head to stretch his neck after being in the suit for almost an hour. He disengaged the yoke that held the helmet in place and pulled it off his shoulders. He then pulled the suit off piece by piece and took a towel from a rating that had slunk in, hoping to escape the notice of the obviously fuming XO, but not wanting to leave the Captain dripping without a towel. He removed himself quickly from the field of battle.

Lee ran the towel over his hair, and then his slim form. Once he was finished, he turned his head and looked from the corner of his eye at his quietly steaming XO who was still standing behind the bench.

"Let it go Chip. Someone had to go and I couldn't send a crewman to do what I could do."

Faced with that logic, and the fact that Lee would never ask someone to do a job for him, especially a dangerous one, Chip felt his ire waning. His friend would never be any different, and beating his head against the brick wall that was Lee Crane was not one of Chip's favorite pastimes. He decided to give up gracefully, but had to get in one last comment. "Fine, but next time take a diving buddy. It's regs."

Crane, hiding his smile, nodded. "All right." He was glad that he had dodged another lecture from his XO. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his friend's concern, but he had responsibilities as the Captain. Chip would just have to deal.

Chip had seen the small smile growing on Lee's face, and with a quick glance at the ratings, who where studiously ignoring the two command officers, reached out and swatted Lee on the back of his head. They both burst into laughter. The ratings all relaxed, and shared smiles amongst themselves. Another crisis averted.

Chapter 5-

Aboard the Edger Mathews, Nelson was not having much success. He had interviewed most of the crew of the Stratego, but no new facts had been brought to light. He had been saving the officers for last, wanting to get the crew's take on the incident first. He had read over the statements from the XO and Second Officer given to the Investigative officer who had flown out to the scene, and then left to report to the brass back at Norfolk. He wasn't pleased at all.

He leaned back in his chair, and puffed at the cigarette he held. Sharkey had taken up a position about 10 feet away at another table in the wardroom that they were using as their interview room. Nelson had noticed immediately that Sharkey had a suspicious bulge showing under his jacket. Nelson knew that Crane had spoken with the Chief before they left, and suspected that the captain had made it clear that he expected Sharkey to be on guard.

The fact the Lee had authorized a weapon for the Chief spoke of the Captain's conviction that the story they were being told was not the right one. One murder had already been committed. Lee was determined that there would be no more. Nelson took a quick glance at his watch, for the forth or fifth time in the last hour he noted to himself. The divers should be returning to Seaview. He knew Chip would have notified him immediately had anything gone wrong, but still he was anxious to hear the results of the initial survey.

"Admiral Nelson to the Communications Center, please," came over the loud speaker. He ground out the cigarette and rose to his feet, seeing Sharkey do the same out of the corner of his eye.

"Let's go Francis," he said, and headed forward toward the Bridge and Communications Room.

Upon arrival he found the Captain and her XO waiting. The Captain held out the phone handset. "It's Captain Crane."

Nelson felt the regular surge of relief that he always felt when Lee Crane returned more or less safely from another of his dangerous missions, but he didn't allow that to show in his voice. "Lee, how was the survey?"

"Pretty much confirmed the video. We'll have to take them one at a time through the launch tubes. We brought up a sample of the hull, per regs." Crane sounded a little distracted, but Nelson was feeling distracted himself so he didn't say anything. "We've surfaced, and I've asked Captain Hopkins permission to come aboard and join you while you question the Stratego crew."

Hopkins raised an eyebrow at the other Captain's statement of intent. It wasn't a request for permission, it was simply a bald statement of what Crane intended to do. She glanced at Nelson. The Admiral seemed unfazed by this seeming insubordination. Fascinating.

"Very well Lee. I'll see you in a few minutes. Bring along that sample will you, they might as well take that back with them when they take the missiles."

"Aye Sir. Five minutes. Crane out."

Nelson handed the phone handset back to the communications specialist, and turned to the Captain. "I hope you don't mind us setting up shop on your ship Captain. You've a bit more room then we do."

"Not at all Sir," she replied, not prepared to speak to him in the manner of Crane. You didn't make Captain by sassing Admirals, and you didn't stay a captain of a destroyer by getting in the habit. She began to suspect just why Crane was in the Reserves. There were rumors about him and Jiggs Stark at COMSUBPAC, and she suspected that they were true. She turned and sent one of the ensigns that had been hovering anxiously out of the Admiral's sight off to the fantail to greet the Seaview contingent.

Chapter 6

Crane sat across from the Admiral at the table in the wardroom. Sharkey, Kowalski, and Riley sat at the other table, about 15 feet away. The hull sample, which Kowalski and Riley had carried over

lay on a table in between. The Admiral had been sharing his lack of results with Crane, and Crane had been telling him about the wreck site. Nelson had noted a strange look between Kowalski and Riley when Lee had mentioned the bow section, but since Crane hadn't mentioned anything unusual, he resolved to question Chip later. Nelson exhaled a cloud of smoke, and cast a narrowed eye at Crane.

"And you felt you needed to be in on the questioning exactly why?"

Crane smiled at him, "Admirals can be very intimidating. Perhaps a simple Captain will be better."

Nelson snorted. " Yes, I can see how intimidated you are. We can split the officer interviews, and then we'll move the ones we suspect to the Seaview. The Quartermaster says we can berth 7 crew and four officers. They'll be more comfortable on Seaview then they were on the Stratego in any event."

"Not for long if I can help it." Lee said, his grin turning nasty. Nelson shared a similar smile with him, and nodded.

"I agree. But first we have to figure out which one, or ones, are responsible. I find it strange that based on the statements from the XO and 2nd that the captain was acting strangely for several days, but no one, including the CMO, noticed. Their statement says he was acting paranoid, and it culminated with him locking himself in the Auxiliary Control Room because he thought they were trying to kill him. Only the 3rd shift crew was in Auxiliary that night, one officer and two crewmen. They all confirm that Edwards came in and ordered the crewmen out. They went into the corridor to wait. 10 minutes later the ensign on duty came out and the watertight door was closed behind him. They say Lewis seemed rational, calm, and even friendly. That was it. 24 minutes later the hull was breached. He never came out. The ensign had gone forward to the main control room, the two crewmen stayed in the corridor until the collision alarm sounded, then reported to their damage control stations. I've read over the previous statements. I believe that we're looking at the XO, the 2nd and the 3rd shift control room crew, and the ensign from the Auxiliary Control Room. They've had several days since the wreck to work on their story so I doubt if we are going to get anything from questioning them alone or together."

Crane nodded, "I agree. I'm willing to bet that there was someone else in or near the Auxiliary Control Room. They waited until the crewmen left for their damage control stations and then jammed the door from the outside. They controlled the whole flooding from main control, and blamed it on Lewis. If we can get into the main hull section we can retrieve the system tell tale. It'll show from exactly where the boat was being controlled. It wouldn't have been destroyed in the wreck. I'm just not sure why they would have taken the chance. They all know about the tell tale. It couldn't have been disengaged, and they knew it would be retrieved along with the missiles."

Nelson grunted, "I have a theory on that. That sub we spotted. I believe that they were here from the start. I think the whole plan was for the Stratego to go down here. The crew would be evacuated to life boats and wait for rescue from a passing fishing boat, and there would be at least 24 to 48 hours before anyone could even take a look at the wreck with robots. Plenty of time for a skilled salvager to get what they wanted, and I'm betting the rest of the wreck would have been destroyed."

Lee nodded thoughtfully. The Admiral wasn't called a genius for nothing. He had puzzled it out. Taken the circumstances and the evidence, and figured out what must have happened. Lee hadn't gotten much past the how; he hadn't even considered the why. Now they just had to prove it.

He felt the need to move, and rose to his feet. They needed to get proof, but how. He came to rest next to the table where the hull piece lay. He looked at it distastefully. It was like having a piece of a corpse on the table, the corpse of a submarine. It should have been left below, with the rest of the Stratego. He felt an urge to pick it up and throw it over the side. The Navy would get their missiles back. Leave the rest to the sea. A submarine could ask no more. A Captain could wish no more than to die with his boat if he had to die. Let them be.

Suddenly the Mathews' alarm went off, and the Captain could be heard over the intercom, "All hands brace for impact!" Even as she spoke, the deck tilted wildly to port, throwing all of the Seaview crew around. The Admiral had managed to grab the table, and held on grimly. The two ratings were thrown to the deck and Sharkey ended up on top of them. No one saw what happened to Crane.

The Captain had been standing away from the tables, and had nothing to grab at. He found himself propelled into the table, and on top of the hull piece. That was when it happened. It was like grabbing hold of a live electric wire. He felt waves of agony flow through him, and as he felt his consciousness fading, he exerted the last bit of energy that he could command to fling himself away from the table. The reverse roll of the deck aided him, and he was flung across the small room. He was not however able to control his fall, and his last bit of awareness faded as his head struck the edge of a table.

Chapter 7

Crane knew where he was before he even opened his eyes. He didn't want to be here! He had sworn to himself that he would never be here again. He could feel it, the cold, the absence of ... everything. This was limbo, that place between everything that was… alive and whatever came next. Krueger had left him here. Alone, and frightened in a way that he had never been before. Unable to return to his body, except when Krueger allowed it, and knowing the longer he stayed the more chance that it would be a permanent exile. Away from everything he held dear, and no chance of ever finding peace.

He opened his eyes, expecting the cold, swirling fog-like tendrils of mist that had been his sole companions before, except for the tortured cries of other occupants of that terrible place. But this was different, vastly so! He stood in the control room of a Sea Wolf class submarine. All the boards seemed active. The helm moved, as if there were men steering. The sonar screen was on, air circulated, and the faint thrum of engines could be felt through the deck plate. She gave every appearance of being steered through the water at 1/4 speed. A quick glance at the depth meter showed Crane she was supposedly at 100 feet. He turned in a circle. Everything was functioning, but there was no crew. "A boat going nowhere fast, literally," he mumbled to himself.

His unease at being once again in this place had not abated. He still felt the cold chills crawling up his spine. He almost expected Krueger to walk up to him at any moment. But there was nothing, just the sounds of the submarine, as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. He walked over to the bulkhead where the boat's name plaque was, and read it. He was not surprised to read, "USN Stratego Commissioned 1987. Norfolk Naval Yard VA. »

He started when a knocking rang through the boat. It sounded like someone pounding on a bulkhead with a hammer. He couldn't tell where it was coming from. He moved through the once again silent boat, going from empty room to empty room. It was eerie. Everything was functioning. He had searched the entire aft section before he heard the knocking again. This time he was able to tell it was coming from amidships, in one of the upper decks. He moved swiftly toward the area it seemed to be coming from. That wasn't a normal sound, and something was making it. He wanted to know what it was.

He finally came to a stop before the door to the Auxiliary Control Room. He paused. If he had thought about it, he would have come here first. He reached out and tried to spin the wheel, only to find it was jammed. Upon a closer look he found a bar of metal jammed into the wheel. He removed the bar and spun the now free wheel, then tugged open the heavy door. He made sure that the door clicked into the brackets that held it open, even through maneuvers.

Stepping into the room, at first everything looked the same as the rest of the boat functioning but empty. Then he saw him. Edward Lewis, Captain of the Stratego sat on the deck, one wrist handcuffed to an access ladder. His dark eyes were looking back at Crane.

"Welcome to hell, Commander."

Chapter 8

Nelson hung grimly onto the side of the table as the ship swung to and fro. The incident, whatever the cause, passed in a matter of moments, even though it seemed longer to those being tossed about. He watched as Sharkey disengaged himself from the ratings and made it to his feet as the ship settled back down.

"Francis, get up to the bridge. Find out what happened and contact the Seaview." Sharkey nodded and went out, as Kowalski and Riley untangled themselves from the chairs and each other. Nelson frowned. Lee, where was Lee?

He moved out from the table, and saw a pair of khaki clad legs on the other side of the table. He threw a chair out of his way as he charged around it, and knelt by Crane's unmoving form. Crane was lying on his side eyes closed and face pale beneath his tan. Nelson gently rolled him onto his back, and drew in a sharp breath when he saw the blood covering the right side of his face.

"Riley, get the ship's doctor, now. Kowalski over here," he snapped, jolting the ratings into action. Kowalski, calling on his medical training, grabbed a cloth napkin from a pile that had been tossed around the wardroom and knelt on the other side of the unconscious man. He held it to the wound. He swiftly made sure that the Captain was breathing and that his pulse seemed strong.

He cast a quick glance at the corner of the table, and then to Nelson. "Looks like he caught the corner of the table sir. Possibly a concussion."

"Damn," Nelson muttered under his breath. He placed a hand on Crane's arm, wanting his friend to know that he wasn't alone. "Get up to the communications room. Get Jameson over here. The doctor here…" He didn't have to finish Kowalski was vigorously nodding in agreement. Nelson took over holding the napkin in place as the seaman ran out the door. Jaime was the only doctor Nelson knew with even a chance of keeping Lee in sickbay once he came around. It didn't seem quite fair to subject an innocent doctor to Lee Crane in full escape mode. Nelson didn't even contemplate that Crane could be seriously injured. Jaime would come; Lee would wake up with a headache. They would yell at each other, and Nelson would order Lee to comply with the CMO's orders. The natural order of things.

Nelson ran a hand through Crane's short, dark hair. "Hang in there, Lee. Jaime's coming." He turned his head as he heard a commotion at the hatchway. A slightly portly man of middle age, with the insignia of an Lt Commander and a Caduceus came in followed by two men with a stretcher and Riley. This would be the ship's doctor.

Nelson read the nametag on the fellows khaki shirt. "Dr Holden?" There was a nod from the man as he knelt down across from Nelson and began taking pulse and listening to Crane's breathing and heart. He then looked into both eyes with a small light. When he was done he motioned Nelson to remove the napkin, and using a clean piece of gauze cleared some of the blood away form the cut on Crane's temple, just above the hairline.

"No real signs of a concussion. He's just knocked himself out. We'll tote him down to sickbay and he'll should be coming around soon." He stood and motioned the stretcher men forward.

"That's it!" Riley yelped, and then clapped a hand over his mouth as he realized the inappropriateness of his comment. They were on active duty, military protocol was to be observed. "I er..I mean isn't there anything else you can do for him, Sir?"

Nelson, who had remained on the deck next to Crane, bent his head to hide a smile. It seemed Riley's R.O.T.C training was starting to fade. He'd have to drop a word to Sharkey about that, not that he didn't share Riley's consternation about the doctor's seeming unconcern with Crane's continued unconsciousness. This was his Captain they were talking about!

"There's nothing further for me to do right now. We have to wait for him to wake up on his own," the doctor said, perhaps catching sight of the Admiral's narrowed gaze. "If he doesn't come to in a reasonable amount of time then we'll take further steps. Until then I have other injured personnel to see to." With a quick nod to the Admiral and a jerk of the head to the stretcher-bearers, he scooped up his bag and left. He almost ran down Sharkey and Kowalski as he did so.

Kowalski had obviously filled in the chief, and he had an anxious expression on his face, as did the senior rating. "What'd the doc have to say Admiral? How's the Skipper?" They all stood back as the two corpsmen gently lifted Crane onto the stretcher and lifted it. They headed out the door.

"The doctor says there is no sign of a concussion, but we'll have to wait for him to wake up to be sure. What did you hear from the Seaview?"

"No damage Sir, just a few bruises and bumps. Mr. Morton said the Doc would be right over."

"What happened?"

"No one knows Sir. All of a sudden there was a huge wave. Like a rouge wave, ya know. It took everyone by surprise."

"A rouge wave? We're in over 800 feet of water. The wave would have had to have been immense to make that kind of impact at this depth. It would have had to build for hundreds, thousands, of kilometers. This portion of the North Atlantic is heavily fished, we would have heard something on the radio, received a warning," Nelson said, leading the way down the corridor after the stretcher.

"Francis, get onto the Institute. Find out if there has been any seismic activity in the area, or anywhere in the Atlantic for that matter, that could result in a wave of that magnitude." Sharkey nodded and split off toward the bridge once again. "Riley, do you know where sickbay is?" At the rating's nod Nelson continued, "Good. Get to the fantail and when Jameson gets here bring him down."

"Aye Sir." Riley also split off, heading back toward the fantail. The stretcher-bearers were now maneuvering the stretcher into the sickbay. Nelson and Kowalski followed close behind.

The sick bay was quite a bit more cramped then the one on Seaview. No doubt most of the doctor's work was done on single patients, or at the patient's bunk. Now, two of the three bunks had occupants, and a harried looking corpsman was busy wrapping an ace bandage on the ankle of a crewman on the central exam table. The Captain was transferred to the last bunk, and the stretcher-bearers headed out again. Nelson cast an unappreciative eye around the facility, and remembered why he had made provisions for such a large sickbay on Seaview. He would escape from this place himself. He turned his head toward Kowalski as the senior rating sidled up to him, and spoke quietly.

"I can clean up the cut Admiral, and put a compress on it until the Doc gets here." The rating wanted permission to do something, rather than stand around and wait.

"Go ahead Kowalski." The corpsman looked askance at them as Kowalski helped himself to some sterile gauze, but the presence of an Admiral kept him from protesting this liberty from a seaman.

Nelson pulled a chair over to the foot of the bunk and sat down. One hand absently lay on Crane's leg, once again attempting to let his friend know he wasn't alone.

Chapter 9-

Crane stumbled back against the bulkhead, and absently noted that the door was closed, even though he had dogged it open himself just moments before. He didn't take his eyes off the form that sat on the deck across the small room from him. A trickle of blood had dried on the right side of Lewis's face, from a cut above his hairline at the temple. Otherwise he looked… Crane searched for an appropriate word, and could only come up with "well". This didn't seem to be a word one associated with someone who had been dead for at least two days, but there he was.

He wasn't a tall man. Most submariners of the old school weren't. Both Crane and Morton had been kidded about their chosen field. It had taken quite a few bumps and bruises to learn to duck under the hatches and pipes. Lewis had always reminded Crane of Nelson, compact and muscular, and with a forceful personality. Now the salt and pepper hair was mussed, and the uniform was wrinkled, but otherwise he was as Crane remembered him. However, he had too much experience with those who inhabited this... place. He needed to be wary.

He nodded, as if they had met in the Pentagon, or a Washington D.C party. "Captain."

Oh very good, Lee, he thought sarcastically to himself. Very casual. It's important to keep up appearances in Limbo.

Lewis, the possessor in life of a hearty sense of humor, smiled, "As you were Commander. No need for it all to be awkward. After all, I'm just a trapped ghost on a wrecked submarine, and you're…" he paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Why exactly are you on my boat Mister?"

Lee couldn't help but smile. "Good question Captain. I was kind of hoping that you could tell me. Last I knew I was on the Edger Mathews looking at a piece of your hull. There was some kind of alert that came over the intercom, and then I was here, in the control room. I heard the pounding and started looking for the source."

Lewis looked at him keenly. "You don't seem to be all that fazed to be talking to a dead man, Commander. Why is that?"

Lee laughed, a bitter sound. "You could say I've been here before. Not a place I really wanted to visit again." He didn't want to elaborate.

"An interesting story I'm sure. I can't say I'm too fond of the place either." Lewis returned, he rattled the handcuff. "They could have at least handcuffed me someplace comfortable for eternity."

"They?"

"My XO was the one that hit me. Ensign Talbot was in on it, too. They were standing there smirking at me when I came to. I was chained to the ladder, and they killed my boat!" He seemed more upset about the boat than himself. Crane smiled grimly again. Typical Captain.

"Do you know what happened?"

"Front row seat. I got to hear it all through the intercom. Did everyone get out?"

"Yes, Sir. Everyone but you."

"That was the plan, Mister. I was a speed bump on their road to a whole lot of money. They were selling the warheads. Meant to sink the boat, and take off the warheads before anyone knew about it. I overheard a transmission to another boat. That was my Second Officer. They were talking about the "goods". I didn't know who was involved among the crew. I thought I could trust Dalgood, my XO. He'd been with me for four years." He stopped, and wiped a hand over his face.

"Bad choice. He called me in my cabin that afternoon. I was working on reports, getting ready to contact NCID about the plot. I thought it was drugs, or something like that. He asked me to come down here. Said he had a lead. I came merrily down, only the ensign and crewmen were there. Talbot kind of indicated to me that the crewmen should be sent out. I did, and he said that he had some papers I need to see, papers that the XO had told him to show me. He led me over to the consol, and was getting a file out of a case when I heard a sound behind me. I started to turn, and that was it, lights out. Turns out my XO crawled in through the vent, and left the same way. Skinny little bastard."

Crane looked up at the vent, and smiled again. It was smaller than the vents on Seaview, but he could have fit through them. Edward Lewis with his stout figure would have had a hard time. "Their plan didn't work. The Edger Mathews was less than an hour away. When the rescue buoy went off there was no time for them to come in and salvage. They're standing off about 2 miles waiting to see what goes on, and hoping the destroyer doesn't notice them."

"The Edger Mathews huh? She was in the last war games. Got a damn sneaky Captain. Came to a draw if I recall correctly. Are my men on board her still?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Harry there too?"

"Yes."

"What did they say happened?"

Crane hesitated, whatever this was, wherever they were, this was still a man that he had respected. He didn't want to give him more pain.

"Spit it out, Mister!" Lewis said impatiently. Indeed just like Nelson.

"They said you were paranoid. Ranting about everyone being out to get you. They said that you locked yourself in here and took control with your overrides. Then, after breaching the hull on the seamount, you wouldn't let them close the watertights. They evacuated the crew as a last resort. They said that they couldn't get you to open the door."

"Well that part was true."

"The Admiral doesn't believe it… Neither did I even before I got here."

"Thanks for that. You'll forgive me if I'm not sure how that'll help much with you being here and all, and Harry being there. Wherever here and there are." He eyed Crane, who continued to stand against the bulkhead across the room. "Just what happened to you here before Mister? You're like a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

"I'd… rather not discuss it, Sir." Crane realized for the first time just exactly how he had been keeping himself as far as possible from Lewis. Ready to run, to escape. But escape to where? There was nowhere to go, just a dead boat, and her dead Captain. "Why don't we see if we can get you out of those handcuffs. I can touch things, move them, maybe I can pick the lock."

"Multi-talented are you Mister? Harry always sings your praises when I speak with him. Hard to believe the skinny, know-it-all kid that showed up in Groton is the Captain of Harry's brainchild." He watched as Crane poked around and came up with a paper clip, which he unbent. "Harry said you worked for Smith off and on, at O.N.I. Really pissed him off, that did. He'd get a good rant going on that and wouldn't slow down for half an hour. Finally learned not to ask after you." He stretched his wrist out, and Crane deftly worked the wire into the handcuff lock and in seconds they sprung open.

Lewis rose stiffly to his feet, casting a puzzled glance at Crane, as he backed swiftly away. He wasn't sure at first what the look in the younger man's eyes was then he had it, fear. "What the hell happened to you here, kiddo?" he thought. Crane had never been afraid of anything. He had come to Groton sub school, ridiculously young and tall, and one of the best natural submariners that Lewis had ever seen. He had understood why Harry Nelson had taken him under his wing, though no hint of favoritism had ever come forth. If anything he had expected more of Crane, and the other one, Morton. There had been a pair to draw to. And now they commanded Harry's boat. The world was funny. He snorted. Look who was talking, He was DEAD! Gone down with his boat. But he was still around, and so were the people who had done this.

He felt a sudden realization, though he wasn't sure where it had come from. He spoke aloud without realizing it, "That's why I'm here. Justice."

"Justice, or vengeance?"

Lewis started as he realized he had verbalized that last thought, and Crane had responded. He turned to look at the young Commander, who was over by the door. The fear was still there in the golden-hazel eyes, but there was something else. A determined look, that somehow told Lewis he better choose carefully in his answer.

"Justice. For me, my wife, my kids, my boat."

Crane looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. "Let's see what we can do about that."

Chapter 10

Nelson pounded a fist on his desk. They had brought Lee back to the Seaview when it became obvious he was not going to come around. Jameson was puzzled, as was the doctor on the Mathews. There seemed to be no reason for Lee's continuing unconscious state. No concussion, no indications on the scans Jaime had done of any other problems. He simply wasn't conscious, that was all.

They had brought the officers, and suspect crewmen, back with them from the Mathews. Sharkey was seeing that they were all comfortably berthed. Nelson was not sure what path to take with them. He was sure he knew what had gone on, but how to prove it, and exactly who was involved, that he wasn't so sure about. He needed Lee's input. The Seaview needed her Captain.

He had ordered Chip to continue with the salvage of the missiles, and they had already removed three Minutemen to the destroyer. The divers had to cut through the silo doors, and then take out the missiles by hand. They were then lifted to the surface. The diving crew, with Stowkowski filling in for Crane, was working quickly. Though Kowalski had seemed reluctant to leave the boat without knowing how the Skipper was, he was leading the other in the cutting and removal. After hearing from Chip about Lee's earlier tour of the inside of the bow, Nelson had ordered that no one else enter the wreck, except as necessary for the removal of the missiles. They didn't need any more accidents.

No explanation had been found for the wave that had hit the two vessels on the surface. No earthquakes of any magnitude sufficient to create a wave of that size had been logged. No explosions, no meteors, nothing. Another unexplained phenomena, like Crane's continued unconsciousness. Nelson was tired of unexplained happenings. He started as Jameson's voice came over the intercom.

"Admiral Nelson, Commander Morton, to the Sickbay, please." There was something in the doctor's voice, but Nelson couldn't identify it. He rose, and swiftly headed for sickbay. He kept his fingers crossed on the way down.

Jameson, his brow furrowed, leaned over Lee Crane, one hand on his wrist, and spoke quietly, but firmly, to his most aggravating patient. "Time to wake up now Skipper, come on." There was no response but the dark head moving a little on the pillow. Some color had come back into the pale cheeks, and the dark lashes fluttered. "Lee, open your eyes." He commanded, feeling the pulse beneath his fingers start to hasten.

"Just a few minutes longer Chip… I studied for the test last night," Crane muttered, and he tried to turn to his side and curl up. Jameson resisted the movement, releasing Crane's wrist, to hold both shoulders down. As soon as he realized he couldn't move, Crane's eyes popped open, and his own hand, the one without an IV in it thankfully, reached up and grabbed Jameson's wrist in a hard grip.

"Easy Skipper, just your friendly neighborhood doctor. I might need that wrist later."

Crane looked at him for a moment with no recognition in the golden eyes, then he blinked and recognition came. "Jaime?"

"Welcome back Skipper."

Crane looked around, taking in the familiar sight of his least favorite part of his boat. He frowned. "I was on the…" He stopped suddenly, and Jaime took his wrist again as the color fled from his face, and a look came into his eyes that Jaime could only describe as fear.

"What is it?" He asked, feeling the pulse racing

"No….Nothing. Seaview! How's the Seaview?" Crane stammered, setting of the alarms in Jameson's head even more. After Jameson assured him that the Seaview had weathered the wave with no damage Crane continued, "I was in the wardroom, aboard the Mathews, then I was waking up here." The eyes had lost that look, but the pulse still pounded against Jaime's fingers. "What happened?"

"I can't really say," Jaime said, and moved back from the bunk. "You've been unconscious for three hours, but we find no sign of concussion, or any other possible cause."

"Three hours. It wasn't that long…" Crane whispered, seemingly to himself. Then he shook his head. "I don't remember anything after the ship began to heave to port."

Jaime was interrupted from following up on the whispered comment by Nelson and Morton's arrival. The Admiral's face broke into a wide smile when he saw Crane awake, and Morton also was grinning.

"About time you quit goldbricking Captain." Nelson came to the side of the bunk, and reached out to pat Crane's knee through the blanket that covered him. "I see Jaime finally brought you around, huh"

"I can't take the credit for it Admiral. Evidently whatever was wrong fixed itself. I would like to do a few tests now that you're awake captain."

Crane was shaking his head even as he was sitting up. "No time for that. We have to get the salvage underway."

"It's already underway Lee. Let Jaime do his tests. The dive team is taking care of the missiles." Chip said, nudging Crane's foot, "You stay here and let Jaime torture you. You weren't using that blood anyway."

"No. Get this thing out of my arm and I'll go suit up and…"

"You'll do no such thing!" Jameson nearly bellowed, placing himself between Crane and the door, as the Captain started to rise. "We need to find out why what amounted to a bump on the head resulted in 3 hours of unresponsiveness, so it doesn't happen again. And you defiantly won't be diving anytime soon."

"I'm fine. You just said there was no concussion. You have poked, prodded and obviously took blood." He held up the arm without the IV that had a bandage in the crook of his elbow. "You didn't find anything wrong. Why can't I dive?"

Jaime didn't even try to batter at the stubborn wall before him; he turned instead to the Admiral. "As Chief Medical Officer I am not certifying Captain Crane as fit to dive until we can identify the cause of his loss of consciousness."

Before Nelson could respond Crane exploded. "You may never know what caused it! Are you going to forbid me to dive for the rest of my life?" He was obviously furious, and Nelson knew what he was about to do wouldn't make it better, but if the man wouldn't take care of himself…

"Lee," he started pleadingly, then got more forceful as the blazing eyes turned to him. Crane must have seen something in his face because the fire blazed higher as Nelson continued, " I agree with the Doctor. More tests are needed." He held up a hand to stop the outburst he saw rising, "IF, after the tests there is still nothing obviously wrong then you can dive." Nelson looked at Jaime to see how the doctor was taking the suggestion. Jaime nodded. Nelson turned back to Crane, and met one of the darkest looks he had ever received from the younger man. "Lee…" he started.

"No, don't do this to me, Harry, please! You don't understand. I need to get out of here. I have an… idea about Dalgood and Talbot on the Stratego and I think I know how to tell who else was involved." He didn't mention where he had gotten the idea.

Nelson knew Lee was agitated, since he almost never used Nelson's given name. He exchanged a look with Morton, who had been staying out of the argument. Unfortunately for Crane, his agitation only served to make Jamison's point. Obviously the Captain was not himself, and tests should be done. He found it hard to look into the strangely desperate eyes, as he shook his head and spoke, "I'm sorry Lee. I agree with the doctor. I am ordering you to stay here and allow him to do the tests."

Nelson had braced himself for an explosion, swearing, something, but what happened was somehow even worse. Lee simply sat on the bunk, and a look of fear and despair passed over his face in an instant and was gone, leaving behind an expressionless mask. The eyes, completely blank, stared at him for a moment, and then turned to Morton. Seeing no help there, Crane swung his legs up on the bunk, and lay down. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the bulkhead, dismissing the three men who could only stand by and watch as he closed himself off. All three men felt a sinking feeling in their guts. This wasn't good.

Lee's mind was whirling. He had to get out of sickbay. He had to get down to the wreck. With a cutting torch and a camera. The only way to prove anything was to show Lewis's body was there, handcuffed in the Auxiliary Control Room. With a door jammed from the outside. If he couldn't prove it here, he might have to go back THERE again, and he didn't want that.

Lee wasn't prepared to tell anyone what he had experienced. Nelson might believe him. He, too had been touched by Krueger, but he hadn't been THERE. He hadn't felt the cold, soul chilling absence of anything that resembled life that permeated that place. He couldn't leave someone he had liked and respected to an existence in that hell. He had almost broken down and explained to Nelson and Morton what had happened, but he realized in that instance that telling his superior, his XO and his Chief Medical Officer that he had spent the last three hours with a dead man was not the way to get out of sickbay. He had hoped that Nelson would let it be, but that hadn't worked. Now he was placed in the position of having to defy a direct order.

He heard Nelson, Morton, and Jameson move off toward the office, and heard their low voices conferring. He needed a plan, a way to escape from sickbay. Frank was off duty, and Crane hadn't seen John around, so the corpsmen were out of the picture for the moment. The main problem was Jaime, and the Admiral, and Chip. Crane knew that Jaime would shoo the other two out before he started the tests, but that still left him with Jameson to deal with. He needed a distraction. The problem was that making a distraction was somewhat difficult here in Sickbay.

He needed time to get out of Sickbay, get the underwater video camera, get down to the Missile Room, and get into his dive suit. Another five minutes after that he would be out, and there wouldn't be much anyone could do. The other qualified deep sea divers had maxed their hours for the day already if they had started taking out the missiles. He would just use the cutting torch that they would no doubt leave on the wreck site, and cut his way into the aft section of the wreck. He knew exactly where to go, and what he needed to get. The video, and the tell tale recorder.

"Great," he thought. "I have a plan for everything but how to get out of here." He pounded his fist lightly on the bunk in frustration. Then he felt a light touch on his mind. Not a voice as there had been with Krueger, just a knowing that "someone" was nearby. He felt a sudden surge of fear, but it passed quickly when he didn't feel the invasion he had felt before.

"Don't hurt my crew, or my boat," he whispered, and he felt as though someone answered in agreement. He knew that his distraction would be coming up soon. He just had to be ready for it.

He could still hear Jaime, Nelson and Morton talking, so he very slowly and carefully detached the IV from his arm, leaving the tube lying at his side as if it was still attached. He was wearing his slacks still, and he saw his shirt lying over the examination table in the center of the room. Well at least he wouldn't have to run around naked. He looked around for his shoes, but didn't see them. Damn. Well he'd just have to hope for the best there. He was ready. He tried to send that thought out, hoping that Lewis would "hear" it and act.

Chapter 11

Nelson pounded a fist on Jaime's desk and cast a glance through the door toward Crane. "Jaime what is going on? Do you have any idea what is causing this?"

Jameson also looked out the door, and then turned back to the Admiral. "I just don't know Admiral! I have already run most of the tests that I can do here. I'll do some neurological tests now that he's awake, but we may have to do an MRI or CAT scan before we get any answers."

"You'd have to send him off the boat for that." Morton's voice was doubtful. He was still seeing the look in Crane's eyes before they became blank. What had put that look into his friend's eyes? The thought of trying to get the man off Seaview and do more invasive tests was very distasteful.

Jaime nodded, understanding Morton's reluctance. "I don't like our chances either. I think that we can rule out most problems with the neurological tests. That may be enough. Maybe when we get back to Santa Barbara we can bully him into it."

Nelson was going to reply, when all of a sudden the claxon went off, and O'Brien's voice came over the intercom. "Radiation leak in the reactor room. Damage control to the Reactor Room, full radiation gear! This is not a drill! Admiral Nelson, Commander Morton, to the Control Room!"

Nelson and Morton exchanged horrified glances. A radiation leak was one of the worst things that could happen on a nuclear sub! Morton was out the door in a second, running for the Control Room.

"I'll be down there as soon as I suit up," Jameson assured the Admiral, as Nelson followed Chip. Jameson was heading for the door of Sickbay; he would measure the levels and advise on the safety of working under contamination conditions. Before he went though he had to make sure his current patient stayed put.

Crane was sitting on the edge of the bunk his hand was on the IV. "Don't do it Mister!" he snapped. He held up a hand to still the protest he heard coming. "You are off duty and on the injured list. You will stay in that bed, and if I have to I'll put on restraints. Now, do you really want me to take time from scanning for possible radiation danger to the crew to make sure that you don't leave?" He played the only hand he had, Captain's guilt. It seemed to be working as Crane sat back against the pillow. The doctor was too rushed to notice that he didn't remove his hand from the IV setup. "Good. I'll be back as soon as I can, and we'll get the tests out of the way." As he spoke he was heading out the door toward the locker that held his radiation suit and monitor.

Crane waited for several minutes to be sure no one else would come in, then he rose and put on his shirt. He looked both ways before entering the corridor, and moved swiftly to the supply locker where he knew an underwater video camera was kept. Hefting that, he headed toward the Missile Room. A suitably intense and hurried pace made it appear he was merely going about the business necessary to any passing crewman none of whom noticed his lack of footwear.

He made it to the Missile Room undiscovered, and swiftly suited up. As he was entering the escape hatch he heard the all-clear alarm sound, and Chip's voice, "Attention all hands, the radiation leak was a false alarm. Monitors in the reactor room malfunctioned for a time, but hand held Geiger counters confirm that there has been NO leakage. All hands return to normal duty stations, stand down from emergency stations."

Crane grinned as he sealed the escape hatch door and activated the override, punching in his code that would not allow any interference from the Control Room, or even the outer control panel of the escape hatch. He could almost hear the alert being given in the Control Room as the cold waters swirled around his ankles.

Chapter 12

"Mr. Morton the escape hatch has been activated! Someone is leaving the boat," cried Hanson at Environmental Control as he watched the warning light blink indicating that the escape hatch was filling and the outer hatch would soon open.

Chip practically sprinted across the Control Room, and looked over Hanson's shoulder. "Lock it up," he snapped, and watched as the seaman worked the lock sequence, to no effect.

"Nothing sir. I think it has been overridden at the escape hatch."

"That would take a command code…" Chip stopped, as he suddenly knew who it was that had used just such a command code. He turned and looked at Nelson who shared his look of comprehension. Chip reached over and snatched up a microphone. "Sickbay!" he said into it, and waited for a reply.

"Before you even ask, he's gone," came Jameson's voice in reply. "Where did he turn up?"

"The escape hatch has been overridden and exited."

"What!" Jaime snapped. "I swear I will…" He didn't complete the thought over the intercom, but Chip nodded in agreement.

"Control room out." He turned back to Nelson. "What now? All the qualified divers have maxed out for the day."

"I'm sure he counted on that," Nelson replied as he moved toward the nose, and turned on the outer cameras. A quick run through the different angles soon showed them the figure of Lee Crane approaching the cutting torch that was near the bow section of the wreck. He was carrying another item that they couldn't identify from the distance. As they watched he set it down, and proceeded to carry the torch to the aft section. He then returned for the other item, and as he turned with it they saw it was a video camera.

"What the hell is he doing?" Chip asked.

Nelson didn't answer, he watched with narrowed eyes, his mind obviously ticking off the possibilities, as Crane started the torch, and started cutting a hole through the hull. He moved with assurance, seemingly sure in his purpose. Nelson reached for the microphone.

"Sparks, tie me into the divers channel," he requested of the radioman. At Sparks' acknowledgment he spoke into the mike again. "Lee, what are you doing?"

The figure in the diving suit turned and looked toward the submarine. "I can't really explain it," came the calm reply. He turned back to the hull and continued cutting.

"Try," Nelson suggested sarcastically. "Surely if you can disobey a direct order, and diving safety regulations, you can explain why." All the men in the Control Room hunched their shoulders under the tone of Nelson's voice. The Skipper was in big trouble.

"You won't believe me. You'll think I'm sick or psychotic. Jaime'll tie me down and pump enough drugs into me I'll never get out of sickbay."

Nelson pursed his lips "We've seen some strange things Lee. I hope that I have an open mind."

Crane snorted. "Strange. This is a step beyond that. It's just weird, it's… crazy." He was quiet for a moment, and they watched as he completed the cut, and knocked the hull piece in. The figure turned again, and looked back at the Seaview. His voice was quiet when it came again, "Do you remember Krueger? How it was when he was with you, in your mind?"

Nelson shuddered, unable to keep the reaction from manifesting itself. That feeling of having no control over his own body, of trying desperately to stop what he was being forced to do. The look of betrayal on Lee's face as he fired a bullet into his side… He shook his head, throwing the memories back into the darkness where they just haunted his nightmares, not his waking moments.

"Are you saying you are being controlled?" Nelson asked, fearing the answer. Loni had said that Krueger was gone, but what if he had returned?

"No. It's not like that. I… saw someone. Talked to him." Lee broke off, and turned back to the wreck. He picked up the video camera. "Krueger wanted another live body. Lewis just wants justice. Crane out." With that he hefted the video through the hole, and entered the wreck.

"Lee! Lee!" Nelson shouted into the mike. There was no reply. He hung the mike back up with a bang, and stalked into the nose, looking out at the wreck through the Herculite windows. He pounded a fist against them. He was vaguely aware that Chip had followed him, and was standing off to his left.

"Do you think it's like with Krueger, that he's being controlled?" Chip asked.

Nelson shook his head. "If it was just like Krueger he wouldn't be telling us he was controlled. He said he saw someone, talked to him. He must mean Edward Lewis. He would be the only one… lingering here." He thought for a moment, and something that had tweaked his senses before came back to him. In Sickbay Lee had mentioned Dalgood and Talbot, two of the Stratego's officers. How had Lee known the names? He hadn't read the reports, and Nelson hadn't mentioned them. No one else had either in Nelson's hearing. So how had Lee known? Had he really seen Lewis?

"It happened once. That means it can happen again. Maybe Lee's not sick, maybe something did happen," Morton said hopefully.

Nelson nodded. "As you say we have ample evidence that it can happen. What I want to know is what did he see, and why did he have to go to the wreck.. He took a video camera, there must be something to document." He stopped as Sparks' voice came over the intercom.

"Admiral we're receiving a video feed. It must be from the Skipper." Nelson almost ran back to the video monitor, and turned it on. He didn't bother with the intercom, he just yelled back for Sparks to feed it in to them, and record whatever came in.

The picture was perfect. None of the sediments from the bottom had made it into the sealed portion of the wreck. The picture seemed to bounce as Crane moved down the corridor. Both Nelson and Morton, familiar with the layout of the Sea Wolf class boat, could see exactly where he was. He was on the second deck. Heading aft.

Nelson picked up the mike again. "Sparks, put me back on the divers frequency."

"Aye, Sir. Go ahead."

Nelson clicked the mike button. "What do you want us to see Lee?" he asked, not sure if Crane would answer. As he spoke, the camera had come to a stop before a watertight hatch. Even without the sign Nelson knew it was the Auxiliary Control Room, where supposedly Edward Lewis had barricaded himself in, and took his boat to the bottom.

There was no answer, but the picture began to narrow on the door wheel, and Nelson heard Morton curse as the camera focused on the wheel, and they could clearly see that the wheel had been jammed from the outside. Both officers knew the implication of that. If Lewis was in the Auxiliary Control Room, he had been trapped there, not barricaded there.

The two men watched as the video drew back, and evidently jammed in a convenient place that allowed them a view of the door as Crane cleared the jam, and prepared to open the door.

"Is he there, Lee. Ed Lewis, is he in there?" Nelson asked quietly. A long pause followed, and Nelson thought that perhaps Crane wouldn't answer. Instead of speaking, the diver looked back toward the camera, and nodded the heavy helmet.

Nelson felt his gut tighten as he thought of his friend, one he had known for over 40 years, trapped in that room as the sub sank and filled with the freezing waters. How could he tell Donna Lewis this? How could he look at Ed's sons and tell them how the last minutes of their father's life had come locked in a dark room, alone.

Crane pulled open the door. Against the resistance of the water it was not easy, and he locked it open. Morton noticed that Lee seemed to double check the dog that held it, as if he thought it would swing closed behind him. "Not likely in a dead boat," he thought.

Crane proceeded into the room, and his helmet light lit up the ghastly scene. Captain Edward Lewis, decorated veteran of two wars, floated against the far bulkhead, his right wrist was handcuffed to the access ladder welded to the bulkhead. His face was twisted in agony, and his eyes seemed to be looking directly into the camera lens.

The mike dropped from Nelson's numb hand as he looked at the scene before him. He felt an almost overwhelming urge to break something, anything. The first thing that came to mind was the XO or the ensign who had been on duty that night. They had to be involved.

They could only watch as Crane approached the consol, and with practiced movements removed the tell tale box with its sealed, nearly indestructible record of the instrument settings and usage. There would be no doubt about what had gone on, not with the video and the tell tale. Edward Lewis' name would be cleared.

Morton swore as he saw Crane go to the body, there was no way Lee was going to be able to free him, but the idiot might try. Chip had been watching the clock. Lee's time was limited. He released his breath as he saw Crane reach out and gently, even with the awkward gauntlet, close the staring eyes. He stood there for a moment, holding the hand of the dead man, his head bowed. Morton saw Nelson bow his head as well, and knew that they were saying a final farewell to a friend and fellow submarine commander.

A moment later Crane turned back to the door, and started out. Morton was just giving a sigh of relief, and had opened his mouth to have the Seaview moved closer to the wreck, when O'Brien who had officially been at the Conn suddenly called out.

"Mr. Morton, Admiral, that submarine is coming in, full speed. We have torpedo doors opening!"

Morton swore, and moved quickly back to the Control Room going to the sonar to see what was going on himself. The other submarine that had been sitting quietly, watching and waiting for who knew what, had lifted off the bottom and was moving toward them at full speed. At that rate they would be within firing range in 5 minutes.

"I have the Conn. Helm- bring her about 180 degrees, 2 degrees up bubble. I want to be bow on to her. Load tubes one and two and open outer doors."

He watched as the crew sprang into action, feeling that same satisfaction as he always felt when he watched the well-trained crew move. He and Lee had melded the crew into a smooth machine. He almost stumbled as he made his way back to the chart table. Lee! He was still on the wreck. He would not be able to get back to the Seaview in time. Even if the battle didn't take long, if one of the torpedoes should hit the wreck or detonate too close, Lee could be killed.

There was nothing he could do about it now. Looking up into the Admiral's blue eyes, he realized that the Admiral had the same thought. There was a dark agony there that Morton knew was also in his eyes. Lee was probably going to die there, on the wreck. Morton gritted his teeth. Not if he had to blow the other submarine out of the water.

What ever they wanted, they weren't going to get it. This suicidal rush against the heavier armed Seaview might just be a bluff, but Chip wasn't going to waste time worrying about it. One move to fire, and he would stuff a torpedo down their periscope. This might not be textbook pretty, but it was going to be quick, he resolved. "Full speed ahead," he said to the helm. He'd take the fight to them if they wanted it. He saw the agreement in the Admiral's eyes as once again they looked at each other across the chart table.

Chapter 13

Crane worked his way quickly through the wreck. He wanted to get out of here. He had done what he had set out to do. The Admiral and the others had seen the door, had seen the handcuff. He had a tape, and he had the Tell Tale. The men, who had killed Lewis, and his boat, would pay for it. Nelson would see to that, and Lee would stand by to help any way he could. Of course, he thought sardonically, it might be hard to help from the inside of a brig, or a mental ward. He hoped that the results of his little unauthorized expedition would help to mitigate the justifiable anger the Admiral, not to mention Jaime, would be feeling toward him. He had disobeyed a direct order, and escaped from Sickbay. He was definitely in for it.

He pulled himself out of the hole he had cut into the hull, reaching back in to get the camera. He turned around just in time to see the Seaview heading off to the West, at full speed. At first he thought, "Boy, they really are pissed," then logic took over. They wouldn't leave him. His mind fed him back a picture of the mighty gray shape as it had passed over him, and swiftly disappeared into the murky distance. The outer door on the port, forward torpedo tube had been opened. They were going into battle! His boat was not only leaving without him, but it was going into battle without him!

He could only guess at what happened, but he suspected the strange submarine had finally made a move, and obviously that move had been aggressive. He tried to figure out why the smaller, less armed submarine would make a seemingly suicidal run on a boat like Seaview. After considering and discarding several options, his mind presented him with the most likely scenario. It wasn't Seaview they were after. It was the wreck!

He was willing to bet their first torpedo would just happen to hit the wreck. Destroy the evidence. They had no way of knowing that there was someone who already knew what had happened, and that Nelson and whomever else had been watching also knew. Without any physical evidence any suspicions would be just that, suspicions. He hefted the camera and started away from the wreck as fast as the heavy suit would allow. It wasn't built for speed.

He had made about 100 feet, in the direction of where the Seaview had taken up station previously, and had put a small pile of rocks between him and the wreck when he turned to look over his shoulder and saw it coming in, a torpedo! He dove for the bottom, making sure that the camera was tucked against him, and the pile of rocks was between him and the wreck. He barely had landed before the concussion wave rolled over him, and the wreck was obliterated. His world became a swirling mass of sediments, and swirling water. He had a sensation of being crushed, as if by a giant hand, and then blackness surrounded him and he knew no more.

Chapter 14

Chip swore as the torpedo fired by the other submarine went right past the decoys that they had fired and continued on a straight line for the wreck site. There was nothing else they could do to stop it, but they wouldn't get a second shot, not if Morton could help it. The problem was that they had grossly underestimated the other submarine, based on its appearance.

Obviously there had been extensive renovations made on her engines. While their armament was much as expected, the smaller, older boat had proven to be much swifter than they thought. It was highly maneuverable, and her Captain was quick to be sure they didn't leave the area of the wreck, thus preventing the destroyer from joining the battle with her depth charges.

"Torpedo room, prepare to fire. Sonar feed co-ordinates to the firing computer. Let me know as soon as you have a shooting solution," he said. Then added silently to himself, "If we can get a shooting solution." He tried not to think of Lee.

Patterson, who was working the sonar, acknowledged, and went back to concentrating on the screen, calling out positions. They had been playing cat and mouse with the other submarine for ten minutes. The other sub was more maneuverable through the broken area near the bottom, and getting a fix was proving difficult to say the least.

They had already dodged two shots aimed at the Seaview, and decoy buoys had taken out two others aimed at the wreck. It was obvious that that was the focus of the attack. Nelson had postulated that once it succeeded in destroying what was left of the Stratego, the submarine would take off at flank speed. Leaving the destroyer far behind, and giving even Seaview run for her money, until she could escape into the canyons several miles to the East. Once they reached those narrow valleys, she would easily loose herself.

They needed to pin her down, but her Captain was too canny to be trapped in such a way. In fact several of the moves he had made had struck cords in Nelson's memory. The Admiral had taught Submarine Strategy for several years at the Groton Sub School. He recognized several maneuvers that had been regular parts of the curriculum. He suspected that whomever it was on that other boat had once been a US Naval submarine officer. Not that the knowledge did them much good. It only meant that he knew what they were most likely to do in any given situation, based on their training. They needed a break.

They got it, but not in a way that any of them could ever explain to the satisfaction of the Navy review board…

Chapter 15

Crane once again found himself standing in the control room of the Stratego. He wasn't really surprised to be here. What did surprise him was Edward Lewis, staring back at him from the sonar station. It seemed that his previous visit had at least released the doomed soul from the Auxiliary Control Room.

"Nice to see you Commander. I needed an extra hand," Lewis said as he moved from the sonar to the helm controls.

"What for, Sir?" Lee said moving up to stand by the sonar. A quick glance at the screen showed him the Seaview, the destroyer, and the strange submarine that had been standing off the wreck site. He felt a chill run up his spine as he realized what was going on. Lewis was going to join the battle. Just as Krueger had used his sunken U-boat to attack Seaview, Lewis was taking his boat into action.

"I could do this alone!" Lewis went on. "Don't ask me how I know that, but I can. Your boat can't pin the bastard down. She's too fast, and the destroyer can't help. Now that they've blown up my boat they'll break for the canyons to the East, out run the destroyer and lose the Seaview in the places she can't follow." He was working as he spoke, maneuvering the phantom boat toward the other two submarines.

Crane sat down at the sonar station, and donned the headphones for the hydrophone. A few quick adjustments, and he had the layout of the area, and the participants in his head. He looked at Lewis. "Ready when you are, Sir."

Lewis grinned at him. "I think that if we can get the bugger to sit still, Harry should be able to hit him don't you?" At Crane's nod, he continued, "What say we try the old squeeze play? I think having a submarine appear smack in the middle of his escape route should just about do it. It's not like we have to worry about friendly fire now. Of course, your boat may not know that." He cast a questioning look at Crane.

Crane shook his head. "The Admiral will know, and Chip. He's ready to fire now, he just needs the opportunity."

"Your sure of that?"

"Yes Sir."

"Then let's do it Mister. Full speed ahead."

It didn't seem strange to Crane that the two of them were running a submarine that it took a crew of 40 to run usually. But then, just minutes before he had been walking through the water filled wreck of this boat, wearing a diving suit. Now he was sitting at the sonar station, wearing his khakis, and about to engage another boat in combat. That was strange. He tried not to dwell on it, but instead called out positions and headings to Lewis.

Then they were in position. There remained only the last step, to "appear" to the other submarines, Crane wasn't sure exactly how that would happen, but he had confidence that it would. Suddenly, the collision alarm began to sound, and he automatically gripped the edges of the sonar station, prepared for what ever was coming.

"Here we go Mister! Here we go!"

Chapter 16-

The other submarine was getting ready to run. The Seaview still hadn't been able to get a lock. They only needed a moment, but opportunity hadn't knocked.

Minutes ticked by as the other submarine began its run. Then Patterson was saying practically yelling "Mr. Morton there's another submarine, directly in the path of the enemy sub, less than 100 yards. It just appeared out of nowhere, Sir! It's gone active on its sonar and they are opening torpedo doors!"

Morton ran to the sonar station followed by the Admiral. "That's a Sea-wolf class sub." Morton said after a moment's evaluation of the newcomer's prop sounds through the second headset. "There aren't any of our subs in the area, Atlantic Command would have notified us."

Nelson nodded distractedly, his eyes blank for a moment as he mulled the implications of this newest development. Then he seemed to be galvanized by a thought. "Chip! Prepare to fire torpedoes, the other submarine will have to change course to evade, she'll be broad side to us for a moment, and even he'll have to slow to maneuver. We can get a lock!" he wondered back toward the chart table, but Chip heard him add, almost as if to himself. "That's the plan I'm sure of it."

Chip contacted the torpedo room, and had them prepare to fire the instant a shooting solution came from the firing computer. Everything was ready. He moved up beside Nelson. "What plan, Sir? Whose plan?"

Nelson shot a quick glance at him, a speculative look in his eyes. Then he spoke, "Edward Lewis's plan. That's the Stratego out there. I'm sure of it."

"What!" Morton said, for a moment thinking the Admiral had cracked under the strain of the combat, and Lee's sure destruction along with the wreck of the Stratego. Then a picture flashed across his mind of a long sunken U-boat rising out of the bottom sediments and making a run at the Seaview. It had happened before. Who was he to say it wasn't happening again? His consideration was interrupted as Patterson cried out, "Got 'em Sir."

Morton didn't even glance at Nelson, "Torpedo room fire one, fire two."

The sound of the two torpedoes firing came faintly through the boat, and Chief Sharkey's voice came over the intercom. "One and two away, Sir. Running hot and true. 45 seconds to impact."

Patterson started counting down the seconds. Morton and Nelson watched on the sonar screen as the other submarine desperately tried to evade, but to no avail. The Stratego, in moves that no sane submarine commander would make, countered every move she made. The Stratego moved in closer and closer. The phantom boat practically herded the other boat into the path of the torpedoes.

As Patterson said one, a flash went over the screen, and the compression wave from the explosion passed over the Seaview. "She's destroyed sir. Nothing much left." Patterson confirmed as his scope cleared. He frowned. "The other sub, the Sea Wolf class, she's gone! She didn't explode Sir, she just… suddenly wasn't there anymore."

Nelson patted him on the shoulder. "Don't let it bother you Patterson. I don't think we'll ever really know where she came from or went to. I don't think there's any instrument on Earth that could track her if she didn't want to be tracked."

Patterson gaped at him, and turned back to the screen, with a frown. A boat that couldn't be tracked? That would be almost like a…. Patterson stopped the thought there. There had been a lot of scuttlebutt about that incident with the German U-boat Captain, whispers about possession, and ghosts. He hadn't really believed it then, and he wasn't sure he did now, but there wasn't any other logical answer. Boy was he gonna have a great story to tell at mess! Then he thought about the Skipper, who had been out there in the wreckage, and he didn't feel like telling any stories.

Nelson and Morton returned to the chart table. Nelson leaned his hands against it, and hung his head down. Chip could almost feel the sadness come over the older man. "Chip, take us back to the wreck site. We have to see if we can…. retrieve Lee's…" Nelson couldn't continue. Morton reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the trembling that Nelson was trying hard to hide from the crew. This was a devastating blow to them both, to the entire crew.

To the crew Lee Crane was their "Skipper". They all had a fierce protectiveness of their young Captain, and would be badly hurt by his loss. But to Nelson and Morton it was like loosing a brother, or a son. Over the years they had grown close. Shared their hopes and dreams. To have it end like this, as the result of the actions of greedy men, some of them fellow officers, was almost more than either of them could bear.

Chip quietly gave the order to have Seaview return to the wreck site. He had Sparks send up a report on what had happened, heavily edited to keep the powers that be from thinking they were all crazy. Later they would figure out how to explain what had taken place, if they could. Now the last thing they could do for their friend was to find his body, Chip shuddered at the thought of his friend now being just a "body", and give it the respectful treatment it deserved.

Nelson took a deep breath, and made a visible effort to pull himself together. "We'll use the mini-sub. If he… made it out of the wreck, there may be debris to clear." He didn't add what they both were thinking about what if Crane hadn't been outside the wreck when the torpedo hit.

Morton nodded, and watched as Nelson headed toward the nose. "I'll notify you when it's ready to launch, Sir."

Nelson waved a hand in acknowledgement, and continued on. He closed the crash doors as he went through. His shoulders were slumped in defeat. Two friends gone, Lewis he had almost come to terms with, though the manner of his death had angered Nelson beyond measure. "To be betrayed by one's crew, was almost as bad as…" He tried to stop the thought, but it came anyway. "Almost as bad as being betrayed by one's closest friend."

Lee had known that betrayal once. When Krueger had taken over Nelson's body. And now Nelson couldn't help but remember the look in Crane's eyes when he had backed Jameson despite Lee's pleas to the contrary. He had asked for Nelson's trust, and been refused. So he had acted alone, and died alone. Nelson barely made it to a chair before his knees gave out. He felt moisture running down his cheeks, and he wasn't sure for whom he wept, his lost friend/brother/son, or for himself left behind to regret. He put his head down on his crossed arms and didn't try to stop the tears.

Chip Morton mechanically went about his duties. The torpedo room had been secured, and the mini-sub was ready to launch as soon as they returned to the wreck site, which would be in about five minutes. He glanced at the closed crash doors. He wasn't sure what to do about the Admiral.

His own grief was almost overwhelming. He found himself blinking rapidly to keep his eyes clear of the threatening tears. He had to remain in control! Lee would expect nothing less of him, and he wouldn't let his friend down. He paused at the thought. Hadn't he done just that though? He hadn't been at his side in sickbay. He hadn't been with him at the wreck. He hadn't been good enough to keep the now destroyed submarine from torpedoing the wreck. He had failed his friend again and again. His logical mind told him that he hadn't been free to go to sickbay, being on duty and having the conn. Lee hadn't allowed himself the luxury of personal preference in regards to duty; he would have expected no less of his XO. But logic was not the loudest voice in his head right now, and he HURT. For the Admiral, for the crew, and for himself, he felt almost selfish adding himself to the list. Lee had lost everything. Morton was still alive, in command of Lee's boat, and Lee's crew. What right had he to hurt?

O'Brien, using a quiet, subdued voice, notified him that they had reached the site. Morton shook off the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. He had a job to do. He reached for the mike.

Chapter 17

Crane stood facing Lewis, who had perched himself on a stool by the chart table on the Stratego. Around them the boat continued to give every appearance of being fully operational, and going about her business of patrolling the seas. What happens now? he thought.

Lewis smiled, and seemed to answer the thought. "I guess this is goodbye Mister. Thank you for getting me out of that room. I didn't relish the thought of eternity there."

"I'm… glad I could help Captain," Crane said, unsure. What did Lewis mean by goodbye? Was he, Crane, now dead? Was Lewis going to move on to his rest, and leave Lee in the cold, soul-destroying limbo that had twisted Gerhard Krueger? His last remembrance of the "real world" had been of the concussion of the torpedo hitting the wreck.

There was a very good chance that he had not survived it. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but his air would be getting mighty low in his dive tanks, and even if he had managed to survive the blast, he would asphyxiate in a short time, and still be just as dead. Lewis just continued to smile, and Crane had the distinct impression that he had "heard" every thought that had just run through his head.

"You're not dead." Lewis said with an assurance that made Crane feel much better. "I can still feel the life in you. It's weird. It's like being near a fireplace on a cold day. You can feel the heat radiating out of it even from a distance. Of course I can't promise how long that's going to last, It's going to come down to Harry and your boat. How fast can they get to you, and how much you want to live."

"I want to live Captain, and I definitely don't ever want to come here again. Where ever here is."

Lewis nodded, "I understand. I do appreciate your help Mister. I know that something happened to you here before. I don't need to know what. I'm not planning on staying here either. I'm not sure if I can really explain the difference, but the Stratego and I are going on a trip. Around the world, and anywhere else I can think of. The depths of the Marianas trench, the ice cap, I can go wherever I want to."

He shook his head, and Crane smiled at the look in his eyes, a look of eager anticipation. "No more going where they send me. I get to do what I want, and I get to keep my boat for as long as I want, and I don't have to fill out one damn report on lard usage in the galley. Now that's heaven, Commander." He rose and approached Crane, holding out his right hand. "I wish you the same when it's your time Lee. Say good-by to Harry for me."

Crane grasped the hand and shook, "I will Captain. Goodbye." As he said the last word, the control room began to fade around him, and darkness once again filled his mind. Where would he awaken?

Chapter 18

Kowalski guided the mini-sub out of her sling as she was lowered from the Seaview. He had practically begged for the right to take her out. Sharkey was riding the rear seat, and would manipulate the arms if, when, they found the Skipper. He steered toward the area where the aft section of the wreck had been.

They didn't know if the Crane had gotten out of the wreck before the torpedo had destroyed it, but Kowalski was determined to believe he had. He also was determined that the Skipper was still alive out there somewhere. It just couldn't end this way. Not the Skipper.

He tried to get into the mind of his Captain, and think what the man would have done. He would have been trying to return to the Seaview, so he would have headed toward the West, where she had been holding position. There were several small stacks of rocks that he would have has to avoid, so his path would not have been a straight line. Which would be the most likely course? Crane was an expert diver. One of the best Kowalski knew. He would have taken the shortest route, the route his suit would best allow him. He steered a course along the route he thought was the most likely, moving slowly, so as not to miss anything.

Sharkey, sitting in the seat behind Kowalski, was having a harder time remaining optimistic about Crane's chances. The wreck was completely destroyed. The torpedo, and the remaining missiles, had combined to blow the hell out of the Stratego. How the Skipper could have survived it was beyond him. He scanned the bottom though, wanting to at least find the body. It would be that much worse if they couldn't find him. Almost like never knowing for sure.

They were moving very slowly, at the lowest limit of the machine. They had detoured around a small lump of rock that had caught several pieces of debris, and were continuing on when Sharkey spotted something in the shadow of the rocks. It was a little splotch of orange. The orange of the deep dive suits, an orange that nothing else could be in this place.

"There he is Ski, turn us about!" he said smacking Kowalski in the shoulder and pointing the pilot in the right direction. Kowalski guided the mini-sub around, and maneuvered into position over the splash of color. He radioed the boat, "Seaview, MS1 here, we have him! He's under some debris, but not too bad. We'll have him out in no time."

Sharkey began using the arms to move the small pieces of metal, and the sediments from the suit. As he worked he held his breath, dreading to see the tear in the suit that would signal that there was no chance that the wearer survived. But as he cleared away, moving from what had proved to be Crane's feet toward his head, there were no obvious punctures. There was still a chance!

Kowalski used all his skills to keep the small craft in place. He tried to spare a glance at the still form below them. They wouldn't be able to help the Skipper in any way out here. They would just have to pick him up with the arms, and head back to the Seaview at flank speed. As Sharkey cleared the last of the debris, they could see that Crane was laying face down. The front of his suit should have been protected. Sharkey very carefully wedged first one and then the other of the arms under the form, and slowly, gently, began bringing them up. There was a moment of resistance, as if the bottom was reluctant to release him, but finally the arms succeeded in lifting Crane up from the sediments. Sharkey brought him up until he was cradled against the bottom of the mini-sub. He nudged Kowalski, and then wiped his brow. The tension was really getting to him.

They sped back to the Seaview, and surfaced into the moon pool where three men, in wet suits to protect them against the cold water waited to remove the Skipper. Jameson, and both his corpsmen stood by on the side. Nelson and Morton had come down from the Control Room, and were anxiously waiting near the hatch, out of the way of the rescue personnel. Nelson's face was pale, and the look in his eyes said to Sharkey that he too knew there was almost no way the man in the suit had survived. Sharkey knew how the Admiral felt about Crane, and how he must be feeling now.

Morton didn't look any better. He was in full XO mode, but Sharkey had worked with him for years now, and he knew the signs. The Skipper and the XO were like brothers. Even more, they were the best of friends. They even spent time off the boat together. That was friendship. He too had to be hurting almost beyond belief.

Sharkey and Kowalski watched the rescue men gently pull Crane from the arms of the mini-sub. They would have to take the Mini-Sub back to the sling, so their job was done, but they were deeply concerned about the Skipper so they lingered. The divers swiftly moved him toward the edge where Frank and John took the still form from them, and laid it face up on the deck. They began to carefully remove the suit, starting with the helmet. They very slowly unhooked it, and started to gently pull it from Crane's head. Everyone in the room held their breath as Crane's pale face was reveled, a large bruise colored the whole right side of his upper face. Jamie reached into the suit, and felt for a pulse.

Jameson for a moment could only feel the cold skin, and stillness, but then, incredibly, there was a beat, then another, then another. "My God," he whispered. He started stripping the glove off of Crane's right hand, and then off his left. "Come on!" he said to his corpsmen. "Get him out of this thing now, we have to get him warmed up."

Nelson didn't believe what he was seeing, couldn't believe the implications. "He's… He's alive?" he asked, his voice unsteady. He reached out and grabbed a hold of Chip's arm. Morton didn't even notice. His eyes were locked on Crane.

Jameson didn't stop pulling off the suit. "Yes! He's cold, and I don't know what else yet but right now he's alive." Frank, who had been removing the left arm of the suit, paused and drew the doctor's attention to some ugly bruising on the forearm. Jameson's gentle fingers probed the area, and nodded. "Broken. Put on an air splint for now, once we get his body temperature up we'll x- ray it and cast it." They found several other nasty looking bruises, but no other breaks, finally they had him completely out of the suit, and wrapped in blankets. Frank and John hefted the stretcher, and started the slow, careful trip to the sickbay. Jameson followed, pausing by Nelson and Morton. "I'll let you know as soon as possible." He went down the corridor after his corpsmen.

Nelson and Morton looked at each other, neither feeling like talking about the possibilities. Both were incredibly grateful that Lee was alive, and silently preyed that he would continue to stay that way. By mutual agreement they both headed back toward the control room to wait for news. It was better to be busy.

Chapter 19

They still needed to figure out what to do with the officers and crewmembers of the Stratego who had been in on the scheme. Security had been holding all of the men in their quarters, pending a decision. Since they had nothing to do but wait, it would be a good time to deal with them. Morton was feeling like chewing some nails, and the men who had caused this were fine targets. When he broached the idea to Nelson, he too was amenable to turning their attention to the murderers.

When they got to the control room Morton had the Master at Arms bring the Stratego crew to the nose. There, they were settled around the table, with armed Seaview security men standing guard. Nelson, with Chip at his side, came forward, and stood at the head of the table. He cast a steely glance around the table, his blue gaze cold and hard. There was no doubt who was in control here.

"There are those among you who know exactly why you are here. What we are here to determine is which of you are not involved." Everyone at the table took on puzzled looks, some genuine, and some faked. "For those of you who already know what I am talking about, I assure you that we DO have evidence against you, despite the actions of the unknown submarine that destroyed the wreck, and was destroyed itself. In fact I have a little video I'd like you to see." He nodded to Morton who had Sparks start a playback of the video Lee had sent them.

As the picture resolved into the water filled corridor of the Stratego several of the faces went pale. As the camera approached the door the Auxiliary Control Room, the face of Ensign Talbot turned green. The XO of the Stratego, Eric Dalgood, sat impassively as the camera tightened on the door wheel, showing how it had been jammed closed. Three of the crewmen who had been in the control room that night and the second officer were staring at the screen with jaws gaping, and shooting frightened glances at Dalgood. The others sat watching the screen with puzzled looks, which turned to horror as the video progressed.

Nelson and Chip, having seen the video already, were watching the faces. They had discussed whom they thought were involved, and their suppositions were proving correct, based on the reactions they were seeing. Only Dalgood had not reacted. He stared stonily as the door was opened and the dive lamp revealed the grisly evidence of his crime. He was going to be a tough nut to crack if one of the others didn't turn evidence. As the camera focus on the open, staring eyes of Edward Lewis, Nelson motioned to have the video stopped. The screen went blank.

"Any comments?" Nelson said. No one spoke, but frightened glances were still being turned to Dalgood, who leaned back in his seat casually, a faint smirk on his face. Nelson was coming to dislike him intensely. "Very well." He pointed to the three bridge crewmen, the second officer and the Ensign. "You five will be confined to quarters under guard until we return to Norfolk. He turned swiftly on Dalgood, who had been smirking a little more. "You, on the other hand, will be confined to the brig." The smirk disappeared, to be replaced by a look of barely contained anger, and he leaped to his feet.

"What right do you have to…!"

Chip was instantly across the small space and in the other XO's face. "Sit down!" he growled, and pushed Dalgood down into his chair. He leaned over and glared into the angry face. "I, personally, would like to shoot you out a torpedo tube, but if you don't shut up and do as you are told by a superior officer, I will make sure that you are IN the brig, IN chains and ON bread and water until we get to Norfolk." He growled. They exchanged glares for a moment, then Dalgood's eyes dropped, and he settled back in his chair.

"You can't treat me like this," he said sullenly, "I have rights."

"On this boat you have what he says you have," Morton pointed to Nelson, "and nothing else. Now I suggest you shut up!"

Chip backed off to stand slightly behind Nelson, who was doing a bit of smirking himself. Few people had ever seen the Seaview's XO lose his cool, but he was very effective at it. "As I was saying. Mr. Dalgood will be confined to the brig. You are all being held on charges of destruction of Naval property; attempted grand theft; attempting to sell illegal arms to terrorists; and murder. I will personally be sure that each and every one of you receives the maximum penalty under the law. You put your fellow crewmembers in danger, you threatened the security of your country, and you killed a good man, all for your own personal gain. I have nothing but contempt for you all. Get them out of my sight!" this last he directed to the master at arms who had been standing by.

Dalgood stood and shook off the hand of the seaman who was escorting him. "You can't prove any of this!"

"Oh, but we can try Mister," Nelson replied.

Nelson and Morton watched as the accused men were led off. Then they turned back to the table. The remaining men from the Stratego were exchanging worried glances. Morton spoke to them; "You men will be returned to the Edger Mathews so you can go in to Norfolk with the rest of your crew. We'll be surfacing in about 20 minutes, so get your gear, and be ready. Dismissed." The men filed out, followed by a security man. No chances could be taken that they had missed someone who had been in on the plot.

Nelson and Morton seated themselves at the table. "I think we got them all Admiral. They reacted about like you thought. Except for Dalgood. He's the ringleader I bet. He's not going to be easy to crack."

"The evidence throws a whole new light on his story. The supposedly blockaded door that was actually jammed is the most damning. There's no way he can say that he didn't notice. That puts suspicion on his whole story. The others are not made of the same stuff, however. I say we give it a few hours. Let them stew in their quarters, away from Dalgood. I think we'll have the whole story in exchange for leniency."

Chip nodded and looked over at the clock. It had been an hour since they had watched Lee Crane's still form being carried toward the Sickbay. Jaime had said he would let them know how things were going. He wasn't sure if the length of time was a good sign or a bad one. He rose to his feet. "I'll take us up and we can offload the rest of that crew. I won't be sorry to see the last of this place. When do you think the Navy will call us back? There's certainly nothing left to salvage or protect."

Nelson nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. "I'll be contacting Atlantic Command in a few moments. I wanted to tell them we have the men responsible and make sure that they keep a lid on this until I can…figure out how to tell Donna Lewis and their sons how this happened. I don't want them hearing it from some reporter on TV. Go ahead and take us up. I don't think we'll be asked to stay, and Command is going to want some answers, answers I won't give them over an open radio channel." He rose and started back toward the radio shack.

Morton followed, stopping at the chart table. "Mr. O'Brien, I have the Conn. Surface the boat."

"Aye Sir. Surfacing the boat."

Chapter 20

Jameson looked closely at the x-ray of Crane's left forearm. Frank, standing at his left shoulder also looked, and Jameson ran a finger over the area of the break. "Both the radius and ulna broken. Doesn't seem to be much displacement. We'll set it and plaster it now. I think his body temperature is up enough." He moved back to the exam table and looked down at the still unconscious occupant.

He gently placed a hand on Crane's forehead. The captain was warmer than he had been, and some color was coming back into his face. The bruising on the right side was developing into a full spectrum of color. Luckily there had been no damage to the eye, and no bones were broken. It wouldn't be pleasant to chew or speak, which made Jameson unhappy since it was hard enough to keep the man eating as it was. As for the talking, Crane would express himself regardless of the pain involved, Jameson had no doubt about that.

He had been royally pissed at the captain for "escaping" earlier. He was inclined to forgive that though in the face of what the scuttlebutt was saying about the video evidence he had collected, and how it would bring those responsible for the wreck of the Stratego, and the death of her Captain, to justice. If Jameson knew Crane, and he liked to think that he was one of the few to be allowed that privilege, then Crane had taken the death of a fellow captain, and his boat, extremely personally. That he would take matters into his own hands, at the possible cost of his own life was just Lee Crane being Lee Crane.

Crane had a rare talent. He could empathize with others to a level that most people could never aspire. He felt their pain, and he wanted it to stop. So he worked for ONI to help rid the world of oppressive governments, and when he saw something wrong he fixed it, regardless of the consequences to himself. Jameson sometimes felt the man needed a keeper, and usually the entire crew of the Seaview worked in that capacity. But this time Crane hadn't had the crew's support, or even the support of his friends, Nelson and Morton. Yes, he would cut the man a little slack on the "great escape", but it wasn't going to happen again.

"He should be coming around soon. I want one of you in here at all times." The corpsmen nodded, both smiling at the doctor. They knew the captain wouldn't give them the same hard time he gave the doctor. Their yelling matches were famous. "Go ahead and get the plaster ready, we'll do the arm when I get back. I'll be in the control room. Call me if it looks like he's going to come around before I get back." He took one last look at the monitors, and turned to find Nelson and Morton in the doorway. "Or not." He should have known they couldn't wait.

"Jaime how is he?" Nelson said stepping into the Sickbay when the doctor didn't chase them off. He didn't take his eyes of Crane's form on the exam table. He could see that the cheeks had more color, and as he watched the dark head moved a little on the pillow.

"I was just coming to see you. He's just on the verge of waking. We're going to go ahead and splint his arm. Both bones in the forearm are broken. He'll be in a cast for a bout 6 weeks. Other than that we have a minor concussion and some pretty spectacular bruising." Jameson moved back to the bedside, and Frank brought a table up with all required materials to splint the arm. "Incredibly lucky as usual."

Chip grinned and went to the other side of the exam table and patted his friend's good arm. He winced in sympathy at the bruising on the right side of his face. Crane's head moved again, and a low moan was heard. "Beautiful shiner there buddy. That's gotta be good for some serious mothering from the secretarial staff when we get back. You'll love it." Another moan and the eyelids began to flutter. "I think he's coming to."

Jaime, who had started to get the cast on the broken arm, looked up from where he was wrapping the initial soft wrap, and nodded. "Should be any time. His temperature is back up, and the concussion isn't too bad. He'll have a headache, a big one."

Nelson had moved up to the head of the exam table, and reached out a hand to gently lay it on Crane's head. He stroked a hand through the short hair and spoke to his Captain. "Lee, can you hear me? Wake up now."

For Crane it was like struggling through syrup. He could hear snatches of conversation, and recognized Jameson, Frank, and John. After a while he heard Nelson and Chip. At least he wasn't still with Lewis. He heard Nelson asking him to wake up, and applied himself to doing just that. It wasn't easy; his eyelids seemed to weigh a ton.

The first thing he saw was Jameson, his head bent over a messy plastered object that Crane realized after a moment was his arm. "You know I'd like to use that," he muttered, and then coughed as his throat protested the speech. Morton, appeared in his field of vision with a cup and straw, and he took a drink with Chip's help.

"If you can't take care of it better than this, you don't get to use it," Jaime quipped, stripping off his gloves and turning to Crane. "Six weeks Captain. Then we'll see if you can treat yourself better."

"Didn't do it on purpose Jaime. Wasn't my torpedo," Crane protested. He heard Nelson's throaty laugh from behind him, and felt the strong hands on his bare shoulders.

"I don't believe that excuse is going to get you anywhere Lee. It doesn't get you off the hook with me either." Nelson moved around to stand by Morton, where Crane could see him. He schooled his features into a stern look. "I ordered you, and Jaime ordered you as Chief Medical Officer, to stay in Sickbay, and you disobeyed."

Crane gave him a sheepish look, and shot a glance at Jaime. "Extenuating circumstances?" he ventured.

Chip snorted, and then lowered his head to hide the smile.

Nelson suppressed a smile with difficulty. "No."

"I had to go Admiral. It had to be done. The other sub would have destroyed the Stratego and we would have had nothing to prove what had gone on. I HAD to do it."

"You could have told us, Lee. You didn't have to go on your own," Nelson said

"Told you what? That I was talking to ghosts, walking around in destroyed submarines? That would have really gone over well don't you think? Jaime had already said I couldn't dive, I didn't really want to be spending my days in a straight jacket, eating soft foods, and talking to the bulkheads." He laid his head back on the pillow as the pounding in his head overcame his determination. The right side of his face ached, and his left arm, which had been numb, was beginning to throb as Jameson propped it up on a pillow.

"Let that be a lesson to you captain," Jaime said, reaching for a hypodermic that sat on the table with the casting supplies.

"What's that? I don't need anything," Crane said, eyeing the needle with distaste. His head was pounding harder, and he was having trouble staying awake as a wave of tiredness swept over him.

"I'll be the judge of that," Jaime said sternly, and injected the contents, then watched as the eyelids dropped. He looked over at Nelson and Morton. "I want him to sleep for now."

Nelson and Morton started to move away, but Nelson found his arm captured and held by Crane's right hand. Heavy eyelids lifted. "Dalgood, Chin, Talbot and 3 of the Control Room crew, that's who did it. You have the tape, you can make it stick." Crane was fading fast after the burst of energy. "Lewis says thanks and goodbye." His voice trailed off, and his eyes closed as the drug finally succeeded in pulling him into unconsciousness.

"Finally! The man has the constitution of a horse when it comes to sedatives." Jaime said, reaching to feel the pulse in Crane's right wrist. "I'll inform you when he surfaces again. Should be about 4 to 6 hours."

Morton and Nelson left after one last look at the peacefully sleeping Crane. He had known the names of all the officer conspirators, and the number of crewmen involved. More proof that what he claimed was true. He had been with Edward Lewis. He had walked the corridors of the Stratego. More things to explain that defied explanation.

Chapter 21

The Seaview bobbed gently on the surface. The skiff, having gone out with the remaining members of the Stratego crew, and Nelson was just leaving the Mathews side, and returning to the boat. The Admiral had been over to the Mathews to update the captain, a very edited update. Both the Seaview and the Edger Mathews had received permission to return to Norfolk, and Morton was taking their leave of the Mathew's Captain over the radio as a courtesy.

"We'll be seeing you at Norfolk Captain. You and your officers will no doubt be called to testify at the article 32 hearing."

"Great, more delays meeting up with the battle group. We'll let you know if anything comes up on the trip back. Good seas Seaview. Edger Mathews out."

"Good seas Edger Mathews, Seaview out."

Morton watched as the skiff was secured, and the Admiral came toward the conning tower. The seamen went below through the aft hatch. He turned as heard the Admiral coming up the ladder of the conning tower. The Admiral came to stand by Morton, and lit a cigarette.

"I was just on the radio saying goodbye to the Mathews. The captain wasn't happy about being held up in Norfolk."

Nelson smiled, and nodded. "She let me know she wasn't exactly pleased with the idea of having to hang around to testify. Oh well, that's the Navy for you. Any word on Lee?"

"Jaime said he's awake, and in a bit of pain from his arm. He wants to do a few neurological tests, but he said he would give us a call when Lee can have visitors. Should be around dinnertime."

Morton turned and leaned against the railing, looking down the length of the boat. He glanced quickly at the look outs stationed at either side of the bridge, and lowered his voice. "I really thought we were going to loose him this time Admiral. How many times can you visit the… other side before it becomes permanent?"

"I don't know Chip. I don't know why Lee is the 'chosen one'. It's as if he has an affinity for the place. He always seems to be hovering on the edge of death, maybe those hovering on the edge of life recognize that in him, and reach out to him. For help, for something they no longer have. I can only pray that someday they don't draw him so far away that we can't get him back." Nelson drew on his cigarette, and considered the Edger Mathew standing off to starboard. He sighed.

The mystery was solved, and Lee was going to be OK. He had found the answers that he had come for, but he was wondering if it was worth it. He had vindicated an old friend, almost at the cost of a newer friend, one who had come to mean so much more to him. He wasn't sure that he had meant to go to these extremes when they had sailed from Santa Barbara.

He had often been accused of being too focused on the goal, not the means, nor the cost. It seemed that was one of the things he counted on Lee so heavily for, that voice of reason. Well, this time the voice of reason had been the one pushing for a solution regardless of consequences. Nelson would have to be more cautious in the future. If Lee was going to start picking up his habits, he would have to be sure they were the good ones not the bad. Not that Lee would ever knowingly or willingly risk anyone but himself in these crazy adventures they kept having.

He laughed a little and stubbed out his cigarette. He then reached over and patted Chip on the back. "Come on Chip, let's go see if Jaime's done. I don't feel like waiting, do you?"

Laughing, they went below to see their friend.

The End

Happy Halloween All!!