BY
GAIL GARDNER
*****
LISTENING POST FIVE
BY
GAIL GARDNER
His first impression was cold...the deep bone-chilling, breath-taking, warmth sucking cold that only the Arctic could produce.
The second impression was cold, and the third, and it took some time before his other senses kicked in. It was dark and the little colored sparks in front of his eyes soon coalesced into the blinking lights of the instrument panel. His sluggish mind fixed on that stray thought.
"Instrument panel...lights...flashing amber lights...flying sub."
He heard a groan that seemed to pass his lips and fall frozen to the floor to be absorbed by the cold. An appendage that seemed to be his arm lifted heavily from his side. He focussed on it with amazement. It didn't feel like it belonged to him, but somehow it moved at his will. Clutched in the mittened hand was a small dark object.
It seemed forever that he concentrated on recognition. He was in the flying sub, it was bitterly cold and he was holding a mike. Long ingrained reflexes, having done the same thing thousands of times before kicked in.
"Seaview, this is FS-1. Seaview do your read me? This is -" He hesitated only fractionally as last pieces slipped into place in his mind. "Captain Crane. Come in Seaview."
The radio hissed in reply. It worked, but either the Seaview was out of range or something else was blocking the signal.
The digital display flickered the change of a minute, Lee Crane looked at the numbers in disbelief, 18:36. It had been 11:05 when he took off from the Seaview positioned just off Nord Cap in the Norwegian waters and made his way stealth fully towards the Kola Peninsula. But not stealth fully enough. The Russian policy of shoot first and never apologize later had dropped him into the icy waters just off Russia.
His brain fuzzily did the time calculations, he had been unconscious for about four hours. The heaters on the flying sub had kept him alive, but were loosing there efficiency against the cold.
He raised the mike to his lips and awkwardly brushed off the ice crystals that had formed from his breath.
"Mayday, Mayday. This is Captain Lee Crane from the FS-1. Can anyone hear me? Mayday, Mayday. I need help." The last words seemed to catch in his throat. He had heard that hypothermia was an easy way to die, but he wasn't ready for death or defeat.
"Mayday..." His call was interrupted.
".....sskkraaa...FS-1...state.......day..."The voice was faint and the signal broken.
"I repeat this is FS-1. I am in international waters about 40 degrees longitude and 30 degrees latitude, not sure exactly. Repeat approximate position 40 degrees longitude and 30 degrees latitude..."
"....You are in trouble..." The voice was scratchy and unclear, but the transmission suddenly clear.
"Yes. Yes I'm in trouble, my ship..." Lee Crane paused. "Who are you? Where are you? Can you help?"
"...Help...probably not Captain. I, too, am quite isolated from the outside world. I am afraid that there is only the two of us for kilometers...or miles I should say. You are American." The last statement wasn't a question.
"What matter does that make? Can you send a message on to my people, let them know where I am?." Lee shifted injudiciously in his seat and provoked a hiss of pain. For the first time he noticed the cuts and burns on his legs that the crash had caused. The cold had stopped him from bleeding to death, but frostbite and tissue damage were now a worse threat.
"...Maybe. But why should I? The only Americans who come in ships to this part of the world are spies and those who would do harm. Which are you?"
Lee took a deep breath and regretted the lungful of cold air immediately. He began to cough.
"....in through your nose and out through your mouth. Do you hear me Captain? Breath in through your nose and out...." The neutral voice seemed concerned.
"I got it." Crane wheezed. "For someone who is so judgemental against Americans, you seem to care about my well-being."
"Maybe I wish to talk. You know Captain I am curious as to why you are here in this very cold- It is cold isn't it?- part of the world. My part of the world, not yours."
"It's damn cold. As to why I'm here, I'm on a scientific mission. The whale migration patterns have been disturbed in this area. My ship, the Seaview, is a non-military research vessel."
"You misunderstand me. I don't want to know your excuses or petty reasons. I want to know why. Why do you put yourself at risk? Why do you Americans fight so doggedly even when you are lost. You know you are lost Captain. I will not help you."
"Just who the hell are you? Who are you to judge?" Lee Crane felt the warmth of anger rise to his face.
The radio was silent for some time. Lee Crane watched the digital clock change from 18:42 to 18:43, and 18:44, and then the radio crackled to life.
"Captain Crane?"
"Yes."
"I apologize for my rudeness. I have been perhaps alone too long."
"Then you will help me?"
"Maybe..."
"Dammit! Either you can or won't. Don't play games with me!" The outburst left him panting for air. The gulps of frigid air burned like fire in his lungs.
"Why not play games Captain? We both have nothing better to do. My situation is no less precarious than yours. I am here only to listen, not to speak."
"Who are you?" Crane wheezed.
"Hmm...just call me Listening Post Five...Five will do, and I shall call you Lee. Let us not stand on formality as it seems we are neighbors of a sort." The non-descript voice chuckled. "My superiors do not look kindly on fraternization with the enemy, but I do not care much any more about what they think. After all they are sitting somewhere warm with good food and good company and I sit here and just listen."
"Listen and do nothing." Lee spat back.
"Now, who is being judgemental here, Lee." The voice mocked back. "I broke radio silence to talk to you, didn't I."
"It is easy to do something that you don't really care about, isn't it? You don't care if you get caught talking to me."
"Who said I was going to be caught? There is just the two of us out here and your non-existing migrating whales. Do you think they have listeners for the listeners? In the Soviet era perhaps, but nowadays they are lucky to have a few fools like me who are willing to be put in the middle of nowhere and just...listen."
"What do you listen for?" Crane shifted again uneasily and tried to flip a few unresponsive switches on the instrument panel.
"This and that. I heard you being shot down. The radar man was sure that you were a flying saucer, which in a way is true I suppose. The young man suddenly discovered that he was religious as he gave the coordinates to shoot you down. I suppose you were lucky as the hand of God made them almost miss you."
Lee leaned back in the seat. He felt very tired, tired of the cold, of the mocking voice on the radio. He would have liked to drop the bothersome voice and the mike , but it seemed to be permanently attached to his hand.
"....Lee....asleep....wake-up..." The voice impinged irritatingly on his consciousness. He raised the mike wearily to his lips.
"What?" His voice was no more than a thready whisper now.
"You were falling asleep. You were dying, Lee." Five sounded worried, no, more than worried.
"For someone who doesn't care to help, you are being awfully concerned." Crane shook his head in confusion, his thought operations seemed slower, but he could read the emotion in the voice of Five very well. Maybe it was a part of the process of freezing to death.
"I am helping you Lee. I am making sure that your last hours are not alone. There isn't more that I can do..."
"The Irkutsk." Crane said flatly. There was a silence between the two. "Were you only listening then?" The radio remained silent. "Well? Did you only listen as 120 sailors, your people died in the cold, died in vain?"
Lee Crane's head dipped to his chest his breath coming in short gasps. He almost didn't hear the quiet reply.
"Yes." The voice from Listening Post Five was flat.
"You just listened."
Lee remembered the news that had stunned the world, that had made every submariner break out in a cold sweat. The atomic submarine Irkutsk had sunk in the North Atlantic with all hands. Their death had not been quick, it was a week before proper political channels could be breeched to even get a rescue mission under way. By the time the rescuers had got there, it was too late. The crew had died of the cold and lack of oxygen two days earlier. Even now, a month after the incident the pain was still real.
"I just listened. I obeyed orders. I heard them all crying for help, to our country, to others, to God, and in the end for their mothers."
"How...how can you live with that? How could you just sit and do... nothing." The lights on the instrument panel seemed to blur and then fade.
"I asked myself that often. I thought of joining them, but I was reluctant to die also needlessly. This time it will be worth it."
"Wha...wha d'you mean?" Lee's voice began to slur.
"I sent your distress call on to your submarine. They will be there shortly. You will be rescued in time." The voice laughed. "You have made quite a sacrifice in order to catch me Lee."
"You know..." Lee fumbled for the emergency generator switch. It toggled on reluctantly and more splashes of light began to fill the flying sub.
"My dear Lee, the Norwegians and NATO have been trying to catch me for years. I have the bad taste to be in their territory and listen and pass on their secrets. I have been talking to you long enough for them to get a triangulation on my location. You will hear my radio being blown up."
"But...if you knew..."Lee could feel little puffs of warmer air begin to circulate.
"The Irkutsk. People should not have to die like that."
"You could defect...come to our side." The blood in Lee's wounds began to flow again.
"I think I prefer this way. I have enjoyed these last few moments with you, Lee. You have made the end of Listening Post Five more meaningful - and I must say pleasant."
"Five! You could get out, aaaah!" Frozen flesh thawed enough to fire nerve synapses. The cry of pain almost covered the whistling sound and then dead silence from the radio.
"Uhhhh...Listening Post Five...do you read me? Come in Five...Five...."
*****
"How are you feeling, Captain?" He carefully picked up a wrist that ended in heavy bandages.
"Warm...Will?" His question and steady gaze met the Doctor's eyes.
"Just a bit of frost-bite in the hands and feet. You had some superficial burns and lacerations to your legs, but nothing a few hundred band-aids couldn't cover. Your lungs are clear, not even a bad chest cold. I don't know how you do it Captain." He shook his head wryly. "But you do have a concussion, so you are to stay in bed and I mean stay." The doctor shook a finger at the Captain and scowled.
"That cat has a better bedside manner than you do." Crane grumped and tried some cautious movement. He hissed as his head began to spin and little aches and pains flared into life. "All right, in bed." He said quickly as the Doctor began to open his mouth. "But I need to talk to the Admiral..."
"He's in Oslo, Lee." Chip Morton came into his cabin, the cat perched on his shoulder. "He'll be back in about four hours. He's just cleaning up the loose ends with NATO. It was a hell of a risk to go through to catch just one spy. They bombed the station to bits and then sent in troops to sift through the rubble. They found the body of an old man there. He had apparently been there for years. The Admiral will have the full report for you then." Morton eyed the Captain critically. The shock of seeing Lee's face so white and still when they had pulled him out of the downed flying sub had almost stopped his own heart. No spy, no matter how desperately wanted by NATO, was worth the sacrifice of Lee Crane. "You'll have plenty of time for a rest until he gets back. " He smiled at his friend. "You want the purring hot water bottle?" He turned his head to the cat who was grooming his own blond hair. "She just plopped herself next to you and after Doc got tired of chucking her off the bunk, so she stayed."
"Yeah, sure." The black and white cat curled up contentedly on his chest. As he began to stroke her the hypnotic calm of her purr rumbled through his body. "I am sorry...I rather liked the guy." Crane yawned and his hand stilled on the animal though she kept up her purring.
*****
"Five is gone off the air." The woman said and shrugged. "It was only a matter of time."
"Five? But how?" The man took off his fur hat and shook off the snow. "Five has been in the game since Breshnev. He was the epitome of the professional spy."
"You know he had a son in the Navy..."
"Bohzhe moi! The Irkutsk..."
"How long can one person only listen and never do anything?"