Dead Before Morning
By Sally & Pauline
A Big thank you to Helen without who's help, this story may never have been finished.
Note: Sally started this story and then decided that she was no good at writing and gave up. I thought that it was too good to just abandon, so I have done my best, with Helen's help, to finish it.
Lee Crane crouched down, huddled beneath the dense canopy of a thicket of trees. His ripped and muddied Dress Blues had provided little protection from the force of the freezing rain and he was drenched to the skin. He trembled uncontrollably as he rested against the dead tree, trying to find a more comfortable position for his battered body. The carrier Forrestal had been tracking a storm moving down the coast, which was now apparently coming inland. It was just his luck that the country was experiencing the coldest weather on record.
Hunching forward slightly he reached in under the wet, torn clothing and, with his right hand, clutched at the pulsing pain which snaked its way across his stomach. Drawing his hand away, he looked down, focusing feebly on his blood-drenched palm. And he had sustained enough injuries, in his time, to know that he was bleeding badly. Knowing that he had absolute no means of stemming the flow he felt a sudden surge of panic rising from somewhere deep inside. He concentrated his weakening efforts on forcing it away, trying to bring his rapid, shallow breathing under control. He needed to think straight and find the inner strength to get up and keep moving.
He relived the moment that he'd caught himself on barbed wire as he'd scrambled over the top of a six foot high wall. Trapped mercilessly by its claws and with bullets hitting the wall precariously close to him, he'd had no option other than to make a run for it towards the cover of the trees, ripping the skin open across his left side and stomach in the process. Fear and adrenaline were all that had kept him on his feet as he'd made that mad dash for freedom. How he'd managed to stay upright and running for the past hour he would never know. His thoughts were just a murky blur as he'd physically pushed himself on, thanking God for his fitness and drawing on the inner reserve of strength and stamina that always served him so well.
The bitter icy rain had continued to fall, drenching his dark curls and streaming down his back. Clutching his arm in close across his stomach in an attempt to stem the flow of blood, he leaned weakly back against the tree. Closing his eyes tightly for a moment and biting back the clawing pain, his thoughts, fuzzy and muddled with the cold and blood loss, drifted back to the events that had brought him here.
He had been on a mission for ONI. A mission that had gone terribly wrong. A mission where he had been expected to negotiate the release of an innocent man. He'd had company along; a full four-star admiral, and a 'friendly,' a man from the local village, their guide to the compound where los leales were holding their prisoner. What had become of the young man or the others, Lee had no idea. Everything had gone much to plan until the jeep they were travelling in had been hijacked and forced off a dirt track on the way to the compound. Lee had been separated from his travelling companions, placed in a cell and subsequently cruelly questioned until he'd managed to overpower his guards and escape via the perimeter wall. There had been no opportunity to rescue any of his team; he'd barely escaped with his life.
Although in a good deal of pain Lee couldn't help but smile slightly as he remembered his meeting just 24 hours ago with Admiral Nelson, in his cabin aboard Seaview. They were both happy and relaxed after a particularly tiring but successful mapping mission, and were sharing a rare joke together, laughing heartily and looking forward to the trip home.
Then the call had come through for the admiral from ONI.
The Admiral's ruddy complexion had quickly paled as he listened for no more than a minute and then quietly replaced the receiver of the telephone. In silence he'd poured an over-large measure of whisky into a nearby crystal tumbler and gulped the warm comforting liquid straight down in one swallow. His sparkling, expressive sea blue eyes clouded over and dulled to grey and, as Lee sat studiously watching him, with one hip familiarly perched on the corner of the admiral's desk, he saw the tension spread across his boss' rugged features to settle firmly in his now hunched shoulders.
Lee hadn't needed to ask. He'd been there before. He knew from the sudden change in Nelson's demeanour and body language as to who had been on the other end of the line. He watched Nelson physically sag and sink down into his large black, buttoned leather chair. An air of resignation settling across his lined features.
"Sir?" Lee softly questioned, his dark hazel eyes never leaving Nelson's worried gaze.
"Head of ONI," Nelson had quietly growled, not attempting to disguise his disgust as he slowly and deliberately ground out each of the words. "They want me to release you for just a few days," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "so you can go off to some godforsaken place and do them a small favor."
"And?" Lee inquired, feeling his heart rate suddenly quicken with anticipation.
"And Lee," Nelson almost whispered huskily, "I don't have to like it. Even if the reason is sound."
For the next few seconds, Lee sat in awkward silence, carefully contemplating his next words, not wishing to rile the Admiral any further. He knew that the Admiral and Chip strongly disapproved of his little 'jaunts' into the secret world of ONI. He also knew that it stemmed from their care for him, even from their love for him. He rarely came back to them without some injury or illness, whether it be physical or physcological. He knew that they worried about him while he was away, but his loyalty and sense of duty to his country and his uniform far outweighed the hurt that he knew he bestowed upon them.
"When do I leave?" he asked, deciding to ignore the emotional issues involved and get down to business.
"As soon as we can get FS-1 ready. You and Kowalski can take the flying sub to 200 miles off the coast of El Salvador, where you will land on the Forrestal for a meeting with Admiral Bruce Walters and be briefed before flying in-country. He's going to call you shortly to sort out some of the finer details." He paused to pour himself another large whisky from the bottle and continued. "It seems that one of our aid workers has been kidnapped and imprisoned somewhere close to the border and they want you to go down there and negotiate his release as soon as possible."
"Why me?" Lee queried. "Surely any one of our high ranking government officials should be going, not me. I'm not the best trained person in the world at negotiating the release of prisoners with hostile groups. I've found it's often easier to go in with guns blazing."
His attempt at humor fell flat. Nelson's eyes didn't change as he reached forward and withdrew a cigarette from the box which was lying on his desk. He lit it, inhaling deeply as he leaned back heavily in his chair and considered Lee's last statement.
"Admiral Walters has asked for your services personally, because, as you know, he's familiar with your track record in the field and also... there is a personal agenda here, Lee," he said, pausing uncomfortably. "Bruce will be going with you. The prisoner is his son, Bradley."
A long, low whistle forced itself through Lee's pursed lips.
"Yes, exactly," Nelson continued. "Apparently he was down there working voluntarily, clearing up after the recent earthquake, when he was taken by a local, let's say, quasi-military group. They're asking for a ransom to be paid, no doubt to buy arms."
"Well that's different, sir. I'll get ready immediately."
And with that Lee Crane had risen from his usual perched position, turned his back on the Admiral and headed for the cabin door.
"Good luck Lee," Nelson quietly added before Lee had disappeared from his view and out into the corridor. "And take care."
Lee paused momentarily with his hand placed casually on the edge of the open door. He turned his golden eyes to meet the Admiral's intense gaze, sent him one of his trademark dazzling smiles, winked and replied confidently, "Will do sir," and was gone.
xxxxxx
Admiral Nelson sat in the observation nose. Spread out in front of him were the latest photos from the new weather sattilite, showing the most recent track of the jet stream, overlaying a chart of the area. The strong polar stream was moving further south than usual, allowing cold air to move in across the area and fueling an unusual deep low pressure system. This surface low pressure created conditions where the surrounding surface winds rush inwards. The *Coriolis effect creates the cyclonic rotation that was associated with depressions. The strongest surface winds in any developing depression are normally seen at the left exit point of the jet streak, where the jet streak is strongest. The question was, what was causing the shift in the jet stream?
Nelson straightened and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He was about to pour himself a cup of coffee, when Spark's called from the radio shack.
"Admiral, I have an urgent message for you, sir."
Nelson reached for a mic. "I'll be right there."
x
Nelson scowled at the radio message Sparks had just handed him, and swore silently. He left the radio shack to join Chip Morton at the plot table.
"Mr. Morton, Captain Crane and his party did not make the rendezvous. Lay in a course for these coordinates, all ahead flank," he ordered.
"Aye aye, sir," Morton acknowledged as he turned his attention to the charts on the table in front of him.
Once again Nelson marvelled at the complete attention to duty the men on Seaview exhibited. He had seen the questions in Chip's eyes, the unspoken alarm and concern for his friend, but right now he needed to concentrate on putting together a search party. "Chief, assemble a search party and have the flying sub checked out. I want it ready to launch as soon as possible."
"Aye, sir."
Nelson watched as the control room became a hive of activity. Two technicians hurried forward and opened the access hatch to FS1, then quickly disappeared inside. Chief Sharkey began rounded up a search party, immediately pulling Kowalski from his Sonar station, while Patterson took his place and Riley replaced him in turn.
"Proceeding on course at flank," Morton reported.
Nelson nodded. "Who is our best combat trained Corpsman?"
Morton thought for a moment before answering. "That would be Russell, he's ex-Special Forces. Do you think that Lee is in trouble, sir?"
"I wish I knew, Chip." Digging into his pants pocket, Nelson took out the key to the arms locker and walked over to open it. "Chief," Nelson called to Sharkey.
"Yes, sir!"
"Make sure all the men are armed, and have Corpsman Russell join us." Nelson began handing out handguns to Sharkey. "We'll need radios and medical supplies. Have everything loaded aboard the flying sub."
Aye, sir." Sharkey gestured at the men gathered around him. "You heard the Admiral, get busy."
Turning, Nelson found his way to the hatch blocked by the executive officer.
"Admiral Nelson, request permission to take your place on FS-1, sir."
The automatic denial died on Nelson's lips. Next to himself, no one cared more for Lee Crane than this man standing in front of him, standing stiffly at attention, blue eyes fixed on a spot over Nelson's head. "Your rationale, Commander?"
"You're needed here to command and control anything we'll need to know once we get there, sir."
As much as he wanted to be the first one to greet Lee when they found him - and they would find him - Nelson knew he couldn't argue with Chip's reasoning. It would be better for him to stay behind and coordinate the rescue efforts. And, although he wouldn't tell Morton this, he'd seen the weather reports; this was a younger man's quest.
"And?"
"It's been a while since I was asked to find Lee Crane, Admiral. I need the practice."
"Quite right, Mr. Morton. Permission granted. Carry on."
"Thank you, sir!"
xxxxxx
Hunching forward, Lee clamped his hand hard against his stomach in an attempt to keep the wound closed and slow the bleeding. He sat with his head resting on his knees before gritting his teeth and forcing himself painfully into an upright position, leaning with his back against the tree for invaluable support. He felt dizzy and sick as he straightened and found his feet beneath him. He knew he had to get moving again. He hoped in his heart that Admiral Nelson, his boss and more importantly his friend would come looking for him when no one appeared at the pre-arranged rendezvous. He also knew that his captors were not far behind. Either way, if he did not get medical help soon, it would not matter who found him.
Giving himself a mental shake, he forced himself to move. The usually sun baked earth had turned to mud, unable to absorb the sheer amount of water that the storm was depositing. The noise of the rain made it impossible to tell if anyone was following him. There were also predators in this region that hunted at night; jaguars and mountain lions, even alligators were all indigenous to the area. Without a weapon he was no threat at all.
He looked at his watch, but it was too dark to see clearly. He wondered how long he had until it started to get light. He needed to be well away from the compound before daybreak. As he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, Lee could feel his strength slowly draining. He needed to replace the fluid he was losing from his injury, but despite the rain, there was no water fit to drink. Underfoot, conditions were deteriorating rapidly as the potholes in the road were filling with water, and it was almost impossible to see them in the dark. Lee stumbled, almost going to his knees and pain lanced through him. He was afraid that he was going to pass out, he needed to rest, but he could not stop yet, not until he'd put more distance between himself and the compound. Even now, he wished that he had been able to do more to help the rest of his party.
Looking back, things had happened fast. Their jeep had been forced off the road and had ended up on its side in a ditch. The impact had stunned Lee and when he had regained his senses, he'd found a gun pointed at his head. He'd briefly considered tackling the man, but he was out gunned and outnumbered. Any attempt at resistance could have resulted in all their deaths. Hauled roughly to his feet, his hands had been tied behind his back and Lee had been forced roughly into the back on a pickup. That had been the last he'd seen of Admiral Walters and the rest of his party. Was Admiral Walters still alive, or had he been killed along with his son? There was no room left for diplomacy now. If anyone had survived, the only way to get them out would be a full scale assault on the compound. There was a distinctive glow on the horizon that signalled the arrival of dawn that told him he had to keep moving.
xxxxxx
Morton landed the flying sub in a lake that was separated from the sea by a thin strip of sand that was probably underwater at high tide. The lake was just deep enough to hide FS-1 from anyone that should come this way. The team quickly changed into scuba gear and packed their supplies into waterproof bags before leaving the sub to swim ashore. The pounding rain convinced them that changing intro dry clothes would be a waste of time. The scuba gear stayed on.
They consulted the maps and compasses before starting out. In normal conditions the way would have been easy, the rendezvous point only about a half mile from shore. Immediately they emerged from the dark water of the lake, they were blasted by the wind driven rain. A quagmire of mud and uprooted trees essentially hid the small trail from view. Using the powerful infrared torch, Morton took the lead. The beam, invisible to the human eye, illuminated the surrounding vegetation and turned it into a magical secret world. They did not, however, have time to appreciate the wonders of modern science, they needed to find Lee. The ceaseless rain made it almost impossible to hear themselves speak.
It would be daylight soon, and while that would make things easier for them, it would also make it easy for anyone that might be looking for them. The fact that Lee was overdue almost certainly meant that something had gone wrong, and there was a possibility that an unfriendly greeting was waiting just ahead. More of a concern was what had happened to Lee. Morton knew that he should not let his feelings get in the way, but he was getting tired of the strain that Lee's continuing work for ONI was putting not just on him, but on Admiral Nelson and everyone involved.
"This way," Morton ordered as he started walking. "Keep together." It would be easy to become separated in these conditions.
xxxxxx
The incessant rain had given way to warm sun. Lee was exhausted, hungry and thirsty. He eased out of his jacket to let the sun dry his sodden shirt; the left side was soaked with blood, but the gashes had stopped bleeding. He knew that he was already dehydrated from the blood loss. At least the warmth of the sun seeping through his wet clothes made him feel a little better.
Pausing for a moment, he looked around him. How far had he come? He would have to find somewhere to rest before the sun reached the zenith. Then he spotted the thin column of smoke rising from somewhere ahead.
Moving as quietly as he could, he headed in the direction of the smoke. Was this friend or enemy? He hoped it was friendlies, he knew that he would not be able to keep going much longer. He moved into the lush green vegetation careful to avoid the sharp tipped leaves of succulent plants that grew in abundance here. The smoke was still there, now tantalizingly close. Every step hurt and he guessed that the wound was becoming infected. Throwing caution aside, he half stumbled as he tried to walk faster. He could feel the uneven beat of his heart as it laboured in his chest, then something happened to his legs and he crumpled to the ground and everything went black.
xxxxxx
Lee awoke to find himself under the shade of a wooden structure with a thatched roof. The sides were open and a cool breeze blew across his naked chest. For a moment he thought he must be dreaming, then as he tried to sit up, pain hit him, causing him to yell out and collapse back, his hand clamped to his injured side. Damn, it hurt! His torso was bandaged and his damaged hand was also swathed in bandages. He gave up any attempt to move for the moment but instead, turned his head to try and see where he was. Not in a cell as least. He was lying on a straw mat, covered by a thin blanket. He could smell and hear the ocean. What appeared to be an indigenous woman wearing an embroidered blouse and long, full skirt approached, smiling broadly.
"Sentarse quieto, señor, o se le comienzan a sangrar de nuevo."
"Okay, I've got this," Lee said to himself. His Spanish was rusty but serviceable. "Sit still or I'll start bleeding again. Sounds like a plan to me."
She knelt down beside him and helped him sit up. Reaching back, she picked up an earthen bowl and handed it to him. "Come esto y reponer usted mismo."
Lee nodded his thanks and accepted the bowl. Whatever it was, it smelled good and he took a spoonful. Chicken soup. Even here he got chicken soup.
"No habla Ingles?" he asked. He needed to contact Seaview and let them know that he was sort of okay. Lee pointed to himself. "Americano."
Shaking her head, the woman moved to the edge of the mat and began to draw something in the sand. Lee carefully positioned himself so that he could see what she was drawing. For a moment he looked at the circular shape in the sand. No, it couldn't be – could it?
The woman pointed towards the sky. "Yo he visto pájaro amarillo grande."
Big... yellow... bird. The flying sub! It had to be! Clutching his side, he tried to get to his feet, but the woman shook her head and pushed him back.
"No, no, señor. Mi marido ha ido a buscar tus amigos."
The message was clear enough. Her husband was searching for his friends, and she did not want him moving in the meantime.
"Mi amigos?"
The woman nodded, then picked up the empty bowl and left.
He lay back, hope rising inside for the first time. If the flying sub was here, then his friends were looking for him. Lee grabbed a nearby cushion and shoved it behind him so that he could see. There were some small boats along the shore, and fishing nets were laid out to dry on the beach. There were wood and thatch huts, and a larger structure made of corrugated iron. Maybe a mine, he speculated. There was extensive gold and silver mining throughout the region, although most of the mines were abandoned now. He watched as the woman disappeared into one of the huts and returned with a roughly woven white cotton shirt and his jacket. She had obviously deemed his shirt beyond saving.
"Gracias."
"Tienes suerte de venir aquí. No estamos de acuerdo con los leales," she said as she helped him sit up and pull on the shirt.
He nodded agreement, stunned at his suerte, his luck. He had managed to stumble into an encampment friendly to the government, not los leales, the 'loyalists,' as the opposition called themselves. If only he had a radio! To be so near to rescue and be unable to tell them where he was, but of course he had lost all his equipment when he'd made his escape from the compound.
His head had started to ache again. He didn't wait for her to tell him to rest this time. He fall back on the mat, exhausted.
xxxxxx
"Señor, por favor, despierta, despierta!"
Lee's eyes flew open. He didn't have to be told a third time to wake up. Besides, the sounds of something crashing through the bushes would have been enough to wake anyone. He tensed. Resigned, he hoped at least that they wouldn't do anything to the woman. There was nothing he could do to help himself.
"Estrella, ver lo que he encontrado!"
The first to emerge was a small man, grinning broadly as he waved his palm-leaved hat back and forth in the air. Behind him, their black scuba gear in sharp contrast to his white shirt and white pants, stepped Chip Morton and Chief Sharkey.
Morton broke into a run, the sand flapping behind his shoes as he covered the twenty or so yards in a hurry.
Lee looked up, squinting into the sun. "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"
"Lee, am I glad to see you." Chip dropped to his knees beside him.
"It's good to see you to. What took you so long?" Lee joked, smiling.
"Excuse me, Sirs." The Corpsman knelt on Lee's other side. "How bad, Skipper?"
"Bad enough," Lee carefully lifted the shirt to reveal the bloody bandage around his middle.
"I don't want to mess with that, so I'll put a pressure bandage on top of it and we'll get you back to Seaview."
"Chief, contact the Flying Sub," Chip ordered.
"Aye, Sir."
xxxxxx
Admiral Nelson hovered anxiously by the flying sub access hatch for FS-1 to dock, worrying about what Lee had done to himself this time. Also waiting was Seaview's CMO, Will Jamieson, with a corpsman and stretcher, ready to whisk Lee to sickbay the moment that the hatch opened. They had been told he had lost a lot of blood, but the native woman had done a wonderful job of dressing Lee's wound. He would find some way to reward them.
"Have you heard anything else about Admiral Walters and his son, Admiral?"
Nelson startled, turned to the doctor. "What? Oh, sorry, Will. Yes, I understand they were being held in a different place from the compound Lee was taken to. The government forces raided that this morning. Seems everyone in the place was so drunk on whiskey they'd stolen from some local bigwig that there was no resistance. Bruce and his son are fine, shaken up, obviously, but alive."
"So probably Lee didn't need to go in at all."
That brought Nelson up short. "It's possible.. No one could have known in advance, of course, but a little simple Intel might have come in handy. But I don't think Bruce was thinking about that when he asked for help. It was his son they were going in to rescue, remember. He needed the best man available."
"FS-1 is reporting they are five minutes out, sir."
"Thank you, Sparks. Won't be long now, Will."
Dr. Jamieson rested a hand on Nelson's shoulder. "And we know who the best man is, don't we, Admiral?"
Nelson groped for the handkerchief in his pocket... something was in his eye. "Yes, Doctor, we do."
xxxxxx
"Is he going to be all right, Will?" Nelson asked as weary looking Jamieson entered his cabin.
Jamieson walked over to the desk and dropped into a chair. "Yes. I've done all I can for him, but the wound was messy. We'll see how well it heals, but there will be a lot of scaring. In my opinion he is going to need plastic surgery."
"Does he know?"
Jamieson shook his head. "He's still groggy from the surgery; I'll wait until he's a little more coherent before I talk to him about it."
"What about other injuries?" Nelson worried, he'd been shaken when he'd first seen Lee. It was nothing short of a miracle that Lee had survived at all.
Jamieson took a deep breath. "He was very lucky, the injuries to his hands are not serious, I don't think that there will be any permanent nerve damage. But there is the danger of infection. The wound was left untreated a long time and there is also the danger of adhesions."
"Can I see him?"
Jamieson nodded and smiled. "Could I stop you?" He teased. "But he probably will not be awake."
"I understand, I just want to see him." He needed to get the last image of Lee out of his head and see for himself that Lee was going to make it
.
xxxxxx
Lee was lying in a lower bunk, plasma and antibiotic IVs hanging from a pole beside the bunk. Nelson glanced at Jamieson before moving closer. "Lee, can you hear me?"
Lee's eyes fluttered open, clouded by the drugs. "Ad –miral."
"Easy, lad," Nelson laid a hand on Lee's shoulder. "Everything is all right.. Just rest."
"Sorry... couldn't..."
"Shhh." Nelson interrupted. "Everyone is safe. Admiral Walters and his son are aboard the carrier. We'll talk later, go back to sleep now."
Lee gave a small nod and closed his eyes. "Home," he whispered softly.
Nelson chuckled. "Yes, Lee – you're home." And if I have my way, you'll be staying right here in future. "Rest easy, son." It may take time for Lee to heal, but he was back where he belonged and that was all that mattered for now. Straightening, he stood watching Lee, reluctant to leave.
"Admiral," Jamieson moved to stand beside him. "Lee needs to rest."
"Take care of him, Will," Nelson half-heartedly turned to leave. Lee wasn't the only one that needed rest. It had been a long night for everyone, but Nelson could not allow himself to relax until he knew that Lee was going to be all right.
"You know I will, Admiral." Jamieson gently steered his superior towards the door. "I'll call you when he is awake enough for visitors."
"Thanks, Will." Nelson left sickbay, headed for the control room. He'd chase Chip Morton out and then head for his own cabin and some much needed sleep. The real battle would begin when Lee woke up and wanted out of sickbay.
Part 2 Time To Heal
Chip watched Lee carefully exit the car and moved gingerly, make for the front door of the bungalow. Lee had spent the return cruise in sickbay, recovering from injuries he'd received on a diplomatic mission gone bad. Jamieson, Seaview's CMO, had only agreed to let Lee out of a hospital bed if he agreed to stay with Chip instead. Due in part Chip suspected, to the fact that Jamie didn't want Nelson and Chip camped out in Med-bay for the duration of Lee's stay.
Chip grabbed Lee's bag from the back seat. After locking the car, Chip followed Lee and opened the front door, ushering Lee in first.
"You want to lie down?"
"No, I'm fine." Lee headed for the sliding door that led to the back deck. "I've been stuck in sickbay; I want some fresh air and sun."
Chip knew that Lee must be itching to at least see the ocean, even if he couldn't swim in it. Smiling, Chip took Lee's bag into the spare room before heading for the kitchen to make coffee. Chip was preparing two mugs when Captain, one of Chip's two cats, came running in, demanding food. "Where's your sister?" Chip put some kibbles down for the cat and returned to the coffee machine.
Five minutes later Chip carried two mugs out onto the deck. Lee had settled in one of the chairs and was absently stroking Missy, who was sitting on his lap, purring loudly. "There she is, didn't take her long," Chip observed, putting a mug down beside Lee.
"Thanks." Lee gave him a shy smile. "Where is the other one?"
"In the kitchen, chowing down." Chip took the other chair. "Are you hungry?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to appear to nag Lee about eating.
"Maybe in a little while. For now I only want to sit and enjoy being outside."
"We can eat out here if you'd like." It was good to see Lee relax; being in sickbay for the duration of the return journey had not helped Lee's mood. Although Lee had not spoken to him about the failed mission, Chip knew Lee was feeling guilty about being unable to rescue any of his party after he himself had escaped, despite being badly injured. All the hostages had been freed and were safely back in the States now. Chip was thankful that they had Lee back as well.
xxxxxx
Hardly able to keep his eyes open, Lee dozed in the chair. Relaxed in Chip's company with the gently, soothing sound of the ocean in the background, it felt good to be outside. The barbeque Chip had prepared had been delicious after sickbay food and Lee had to admit that he'd been starving. The sun was low on the horizon and it would be dark soon, but the thought of moving was too much effort. He opened his eyes to watch Chip disappear inside, but didn't question where he was going.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed before Chip returned, rousing him from a light sleep.
"Hey, sleeping beauty."
With an effort, Lee forced his eyes open to find Chip standing over him with two mugs.
"Here." Chip handed him a mug.
"What's this?" Lee asked, not detecting the usual familiar aroma of coffee.
"Drink it and find out." Chip returned to his own chair, removing Captain, who protested at being disturbed.
Lee smiled to himself in amusement and took a sip. The chocolate was rich and creamy, with a dusting of cocoa on top. "Umm, it's good."
"Thanks." Chip stretched out in the chair with the cat on his lap. "Anything special you want to do tomorrow?"
Lee shrugged. "Maybe go for a walk on the beach, paddle in the surf. I've been lazing around too long." Jamie had told him to relax and take things easy, but he hadn't said that he couldn't go out.
It was Chip's turn to smile. "Yeah, figured you wouldn't be able to resist the beach, only do me a favour and don't try sun bathing nude, okay?" Chip teased.
Remembering the incident that Chip was referring to, Lee blushed, but laughed. "No danger of that." Chip had turned up at Lee's place unexpected and had caught Lee sun bathing nude. He wasn't sure which of them was more shocked. "It isn't something I am in the habit of doing around company."
"Glad to hear it. You might frighten the neighbours."
The chocolate had stimulated Lee's appetite. "Chip, do you have any cookies?"
"What?" Chip regarded him in mock amazement. "You're still hungry?" he asked incredulously.
"Hey, give me a break. I've been on a diet of sickbay food," Lee answered, defendinghimself. "Besides, a drink is too wet without either cookies or a doughnut."
"Too wet, huh?" Chip shook his head, laughing. "I've got to remember that one." Removing the cat from his lap, Chip climbed to his feet. "I might have some cookies."
xxxxxx
Passing the spare room, Chip popped his head around the door to check on Lee. Morton smiled in amusement. Lee was asleep with Missy curled beside him. The tabby lifted her head to look at Chip, but made no effort to move from Lee's side. She always adopted Lee when he came to stay and Lee had never objected to her sharing his bed. Chip secretly suspected that Lee enjoyed her company. Not wanting to wake his friend, Chip quietly continued on his way to the kitchen.
After putting fresh food down for both cats, Chip set about getting breakfast made for himself and Lee, starting with coffee. He had just finished whisking the mixture for cinnamon French toast when Lee wandered in, barefoot and wearing only pyjama bottoms.
"Morning, Chip. Can I help with anything?"
"No, I've got everything under control. Help yourself to coffee."
"No, thanks." Lee grabbed a glass from the cupboard, walked over to the fridge and poured some juice.
Chip paused from soaking a slice of bread in the mixture. That was the second time that Lee had surprised him in the space of twenty-four hours. "Are you sure you're Lee Crane and not an imposter?" He joked. Coffee was usually the first thing Lee wanted in the morning.
Lee laughed. "I guess I've gotten used to Jamie's healthy sickbay food."
"Talking of healthy, go put more on. I do not want Jamie mad at me because you've caught a chill."
Lee rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother."
xxxxxx
Dressed in white tennis shorts and polo shirt, Lee was wading barefoot in the surf, a hand pressed into his injured side to support the freshly healed wound. Breaking waves washed around his ankles, washing away their footprints in the sand. The sea breeze gently ruffled Lee's dark curls.
In spite of Lee's pretense that everything was fine, Chip knew that this enforced rest was tough on him. Lee was an outdoor guy and loved to run, swim, scuba or play golf when they were on leave and he couldn't do any of those things, he couldn't even drive his little red sports car.
Lee was also missing his boat, his beloved Seaview was in dry-dock getting a new paint job; not the red that Lee would no doubt prefer, but a new type of paint they were doing a trial of. It had special polymers that were supposed to repel light, making the sub more difficult to spot when on the surface. Chip wasn't sure that was a good idea, they got into enough trouble without upping the danger of collision to the list of hazards.
Walking in the surf beside Lee, Chip squinted against the glare of the sun off the ocean and waded in a little deeper. The temperature was already warming up and the water looked inviting, sparkling in the sunlight.
Lee paused, his gaze fixed on the ocean. "Water feels great; I'd love to go for a swim."
"You'll be back in the water before you know it."
"Yeah," Lee sighed, "I don't know why Jamie won't let me return to light duty, there's nothing wrong with my brain. I could do paperwork."
"Because he knows you. The minute his back was turned you'd be doing something you shouldn't, you can't help yourself," Chip teased.
"I might bust orders anyway," Lee grumbled. "I feel so damn useless."
"Not on my watch, you won't," Chip told him firmly. "Stop beating yourself up, Lee. Give yourself time to heal. Seaview isn't going anywhere for a while."
"That's not it...I..." Lee shrugged. "I had a bad feeling about the mission from the start. I'm not a diplomat." Lee continued walking.
"You think that someone else could have done any better?"
Lee shook his head. "No, but maybe this time I should have said no. After all, what did I achieve? I ended up getting hurt and now you have to do my job as well as your own."
"If it will make you feel better, I'll talk to Jamie and see what I can do, okay?" It was better to let Lee feel that he was doing something useful than have Crane take off, doing goodness knows what and getting himself into trouble.
"Thanks, Chip. You don't need to babysit me 24/7. Why don't you go for a swim? I'll stay here and watch your clothes," Lee offered.
Chip regarded him suspiciously. "You're not planning anything, are you?"
"I promise." Lee looked around. "I'll be right over there on that rock, waiting for you. Go on, you deserve to relax and have some fun," Lee encouraged.
"Okay, thanks." The idea of a dip in the ocean sounded good. Chip stripped off his jeans and T-shirt; luckily he had worn his swim trunks underneath in case the opportunity presented itself.
Chip watched as Lee walked up the beach to a convenient rock. He waited until Lee settled himself before he waded out into the water.
Lee carefully lowered himself onto the warm sand and rested back against the boulder. Chip was already waist deep in the surf when Lee looked for him. Like Lee, Chip was a strong swimmer and completely at home in the water.
At this time of the morning the beach was quiet, with just a woman walking her dog and a male jogger. Lee closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin and the ocean breeze that ruffled his hair. He was thankful to be here. He'd thought that he wasn't going to make it back from the last mission alive. He'd never been happier to see Chip, heading up the rescue party from Seaview. Lee had spent a good deal of the trip home in sickbay, dosed up with pain meds. However he'd been determined that he wasn't going to spend any more time in hospital once they returned to Santa Barbara.
As it turned out, Lee's jaunt had all been for nothing. He'd achieve nothing and had gotten injured in the process. Even thought he knew that there was nothing he could have done, Lee hated failure. He knew that Nelson didn't like or approve of his continued work for ONI, and in this instance, Lee had to wonder if he should have gone with his instinct and said no. Not that he wouldn't do it again if necessary.
He wasn't sure how long he'd sat soaking up the sun and enjoying the sound of the surf until something blocked the sun. Opening his eyes, he found Chip standing in front of him, still wet from his swim.
"Enjoy your swim?"
"Yeah, the water was great." Chip picked up his T shirt and pulled it on. "You ready to head back?"
Although Lee would have been content to stay longer, he nodded, reaching a hand out to Chip to help him up.
xxxxxx
Forced to be a passenger, Lee sat beside Kowalski; but it was good to feel the wind in his hair. He'd arranged for the crewman to drive him out to his lighthouse home on the pretence of picking up any mail and wanting to give the car a run.
It was Sunday and Lee wanted to get out of Chip's hair for a few hours and give him and Lindsey some time for themselves. Those two did not get much time together with Chip being at sea so much.
Despite their difference in their rank, Crane and Kowalski had developed a unique working relationship. Not only did Lee regularly select Kowalski to accompany him on dives, but the senior rating had also learned to pilot FS1 and frequently flew with him as co-pilot.
They had stopped at Sunny Jim's diner for lunch. Lee was agreeably stuffed after putting away a steak sandwich with salad and banana cream pie for dessert. Crane smiled at Kowalski's reaction at how much food Lee had managed to consume and he wondered how long it would be before the dish was included on Cookie's menu aboard Seaview.
Tomorrow Lee planned on accepting a long standing invitation to join a friend on his boat. He hated this forced idleness. But for now he was looking forward to relaxing at home for a few hours away from his best friend's well intended fussing.
Lee knew and accepted that he was not healed enough to return to full duty and would have to accept a compromise. But he did not accept the need to be placed on medical leave. Jamieson had insisted on what amounted to a babysitter before he'd even let him out of a stay in hospital. Lee felt fine and thought he was more than capable of looking after himself. Lee rested his head back and closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. Why was he getting so wound up? What was so different from all the other times he'd returned from a mission wounded, beat up or shot?
By the time that Kowalski pulled up in front of the lighthouse, Lee had calmed down. Picking up his mail, Lee headed for the den and settled into the comfy chair.
"Can I get you anything, Skipper?" Kowalski asked from the doorway.
"No thanks, Ski. Why don't you take off for a couple of hours, I'll be fine."
Kowalski looked doubtful. "I don't know, Skipper..."
Lee smiled. "I'm fine, really. Come back around 18:00, okay?"
"Okay, thank you, sir." Kowalski turned and walked out.
Lee listened until he heard the front door close - home at last. For a moment he just sat, soaking up the silence that had descended around him. Settling deeper into the upholstery, Lee turned his attention to the mail that was lying in his lap. He sorted through the assortment of envelopes for anything that looked interesting. A package had caught his attention earlier and he recognised his mother's handwriting. Opening it, he was surprised to see that she had sent him a copy of a book reproducing the personal log of the captain of the USS Nautilus, a distant relative, Lt. William Montgomery Crane. Lieutenant Crane had commanded the Nautilus during the Barbary War, before being made Commodore. Was it fate that Lee had also served on a vessel of the same name, under the then, Captain Nelson? There was no denying that the sea was in Lee's blood.
His mother was not usually in the habit of doing anything that reminded her that her only son was in the service. Lee's father, a navy pilot, had died in an accident aboard an aircraft carrier, when his aircraft crashed on landing. The resulting fire raged for 4-5 hours before it was extinguished. Lee had been ten years old at the time. That his father died in the line of duty had guaranteed Lee's entry into Annapolis; his mother had not been happy with the idea of her son following his father into the navy. The giving of this gift pleased him all the more because he knew that she had picked it out especially for him.
Fascinated, he opened the log and began to read. It soon became apparent that the Lieutenant's command had not lasted long; the Nautilus was captured by the British in July 1812. Reading the entries, written in a precise, formal English, Lee soon came to realize how much Lieutenant Crane had loved the navy and his ship. Kindred souls, they were; maybe, his mother could understand that and accept it, just a bit.
Sometime later, Lee put down the log and climbed to his feet, Groaning as the movement pulled on the wound. The injury had been messy and would leave an ugly scar. Doc had told him that he should consider plastic surgery further down the line. For now, all Lee was concerned about was getting back to duty. Entering the kitchen, he grabbed the jug from the coffee maker and moving to the sink, rinsed it out before refilling it. While he waited for the coffee to brew, he found a note pad and checked the cupboards, making a list of things that he would need to buy. He wasn't sure how long Jamie expected him to remain at Chip's place before he'd allow him to return home.
Coffee made, Lee took his mug and unlocked the kitchen door. Stepping out, he walked around to the back of the lighthouse and carefully settled himself in one of the loungers around the small circular pool. The pool and patio area had been his mother's idea and was more ornamental, than for swimming. The beach and the ocean were his back yard. In the shelter of the lighthouse, the sun was warm and Lee relaxed, sipping his coffee. He wondered how the new paint job on Seaview was going. He hated the thought of his grey lady being without him to keep an eye on things. He couldn't help smiling to himself. Chip teased him about his affections towards Seaview. He had an almost telepathic link with the sub; she had definitely cast a spell on him.
xxxxxx
"You're just in time. I've ordered Pizza," Chip informed him when Kowlaski dropped Lee back at the bungalow.
"Sounds good. I'm just going to wash up," Lee headed for the bathroom.
"Do you want beer or soda?" Chip called.
"Beer, please."
Chip fetched plates, napkins and cutlery from the kitchen and set them on the coffee table, before returning to grab a six pack from the fridge.
Five minutes a knock signalled the arrival of the Pizza guy. Chip, loaded with severl boxes and containers, returned to find Lee sprawled in an armchair, with a beer in his good hand. He'd put a sweater on over the poloshirt he'd worn earlier and was minus his shoes.
"Gee, Chip – are you expecting the entire crew?" Lee joked, looking at the pizza, chicken wings, potato wedges and salad.
"I wouldn't be surprised if we have a visitor," Chip placed the food on the table and after opening the pizza box, placed a slice on a plate and handed it to Lee. "Do you want anything else with that?"
"Thanks, no, this will do for a start," Lee took a mouthful of pizza.
Chip helped himself to a slice of pizza and sprawled in the other armchair.
For a few minutes they sat in silence, while they ate. "Everything all right at home?" Chip asked, reaching for another slice.
Lee nodded, balancing his plate on his knee, he took a drink of beer.
Chip surreptitious watched Lee tucking into his pizza. While Lee looked relaxed, Chip wondered what was going on in his head. He contemplated how Lee could continue to do what he did and not come back mentally scarred. "Lee, I know that you don't like to talk about things, and I appreciate that there are some things that you can't talk about, but you shouldn't keep it all inside. You know that you can tell me things in confidence."
Lee nodded. "I know,Chip – and I appreciate it, but I'm okay, really."
They were interrupted by the arrival of Lindsey and her father.
"Hi sweet-heart," Chip pushed to his feet and gave Lindsey a kiss.
"What's this, re-enforcements?" Lee protested. "I'm being good, I promise."
Jamieson chuckled. "Relax Lee, I'm not here to check on you, I'm here as a friend and as Lyndsey's father."
Lee looked from Jamieson to Chip. "Did I miss something?"
Chip shook his head. "You'd be the second to know, buddy."
xxxxxx
Lee hated having to ask for help, but Jamie had barred him from driving, so he'd asked Chip to drop him at the dock in Santa Barbara Harbour. An ex-navy friend ran a boat charter company there, taking people deep-sea fishing and running trips around the Channel Islands.
"Hey, Lee, climb aboard," Mike Stone greeted him cheerfully. Five years older than Lee, Mike was 6 foot tall, and ruggedly handsome with sun bleached hair and a beard that was starting to grey around the edges.
Lee carefully negotiated the gap between the dock and the rear deck of the Destiny. Lee had a standing invitation to join them aboard the boat whenever he wanted. The two of them went way back. Mike's father had worked for Lee's uncle at his boat yard and Mike had always dreamed of owning his own boat one day.
Likewise, Lee had always known what he wanted. Although their paths had taken different directions, Mike had known that Lee Crane was predestined for great things. He'd been a high achiever and he made an impression on everyone that he came into contact with, including Admiral Harriman Nelson when he had been an instructor at Annapolis.
Nelson had always wanted Lee for Seaview, however, Lee's career path had been anything but normal and he'd come to the attention of ONI early in his career while still a young lieutenant. However, Lee wanted to be a sub commander and it was made clear to him that would not happen if he went that route. Lee had gone on to become the youngest skipper in the navy. He'd finally achieved his dream of captaining Seaview; something that it seemed he'd been destined for from the start.
However, ONI had not given up, and when Lee became a reservist, they again approached him. As well as SERE training, ONI had also recommended him for SEAL training. ONI were not the only ones trying to get their hooks into Lee. Being who and what he was, Lee was in demand when it came time for him to do his reserve duty and there were those who would like to see him return to the regular navy.
Mike joked that if ever Lee got tired of working for Nelson, he would give him a boat to skipper. However, he knew that day would never come; Lee had lost his heart to Seaview and would never give her up.
"Welcome aboard. Make yourself at home." Mike handed him a life jacket. With Lee's shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Mike noticed Lee's bandaged hand. "Medical leave?"
Lee nodded. "Thanks. Yeah, just got released from sickbay." He looked around. "No other passengers this cruise?"
"Nope, just you, Dan and me this trip. There's coffee in the galley if you want it."
"No thanks," Lee sat on the bench seat and watched the two men cast off from the wharf. Mike took the helm and started the engine. Slowly the boat eased away and headed for open water.
They were headed for the Channel Islands. The 65 foot dive boat had a cruising speed of 10 knots and was powered by two 8V diesel engines, each generating 550HP. Below decks there was a galley/lounge and a twenty open berth bunk area with head and showers. Although this trip they would not be staying out overnight, the boat was fully equipped to do so.
Lee had moved to the bow and the wind and spray was turning his dark hair into a mess of unruly curls, but he didn't care, he was enjoying himself. Growing up in Rhode Island, Lee had been around boats most of his life. He loved being on, in or under the water and if he couldn't be aboard Seaview, then this was the next best thing.
After a morning spent touring the Northern Islands and Point Conception with its lighthouse standing high on a bluff overlooking the ocean, Mike headed east to Santa Barbara Island, where they anchored for lunch. Lee would like to have stopped to visit the lighthouse, but private visitors were not allowed. So he had to content himself with watching from the boat. He wished that he had brought a camera; he was a fairly good amateur photographer.
Santa Barbara Island was home to a large colony of seals, and they were used to people. Seals are opportunistic and some came out to visit the boat, looking for a free meal or a diver to play with. Watching the seals having fun around the boat, their sleek bodies gliding through the water with ease, Lee would liked to have gone diving with them, but Jamie would have a fit if he found out, so Lee had to content himself with merely watching them.
"Hey! Come and eat!" Mike called.
"Yeah, coming." Lee turned and headed back to where Mike had set up a foldaway table on the aft deck. It seemed to be all he'd done for the past few days was eaten and slept. But now that he thought about it, he realised that he was hungry. Must be the sea air. It certainly felt good to be out on the water, even if it wasn't aboard Seaview;Lee loved the ocean in all its he would take Mike up on his offer to skipper a boat, if only when other commitments allowed. He certainly would never give up commanding Seaview.
Dan was an excellent cook, and everyone enjoyed the fresh halibut steaks, asparagus spears and garlic bread coming out of the galley. They had sat around and swapped sea stories for a time, until Mike had checked the weather channel, realized a storm was coming and it was time to head back. Returning to the helm, Mike started back to port, leaving Lee standing on the aft deck. The sea was starting to build, but they would be back in Santa Barbara in plenty of time before the real storm hit.
As they neared the coast Mike noticed a boat coming towards them, fast – too fast. "Damn fool," he cursed under his breath. Even as he watched, the two craft closed rapidly. What's the matter with them? Destiny is lit up and should be easily visible, even in the deteriorating conditions.
Mike hit the horn, but the trawler held her course. Swearing under his breath, Mike yelled a warning. "Hold on!" He spun the wheel, veering away. Destiny heaved over, but the wash from the trawler caught them broadside and Destiny pitched and rolled – there was no danger of her capsizing, but it was a rollercoaster ride until the sea calmed. The other boat sped on, seemingly oblivious to the trouble it had caused. Mike made a mental note to contact the harbour police once they'd docked.
"Everyone okay?" Mike turned to check on Lee, only he was no longer there.
Shit!
Mike killed the engine, feeling sick to his stomach. If Lee had gone overboard there was a danger that he could have been sucked under the propellers. "Man overboard! Dan, get up here," he yelled to his crewman who was in the galley stowing the lunch things away.
The weather was closing in, the wind was rising and the sea was getting rough. Telling Dan to take the helm, Mike desperately scanned the sea, searching for any sign of Lee. "Bring her around slow," he instructed. Should I call for help? Just then he spotted Lee's yellow life jacket, he was swimming towards the boat. Thank goodness he's a strong swimmer.
"Kill the engine, let her drift." Mike quickly moved to the platform at the stern of the boat, ready to help Lee aboard. "Geez, Lee, this was no time to go for a swim. You scared the crap out of me," Mike teased once Lee was back aboard.
"Yeah, sorry," Lee gasped, collapsing to his knees with an arm wrapped around his middle."
"Are you hurt?" Mike asked, worried, as he kneeled beside Lee.
Lee shook his head. "Winded...hit the rail...on the way over."
Mike glanced up as Dan appeared with a towel and handed it down to Mike. "Is he okay?"
"I think so, thanks."
Lee was soaking wet and shivering, water dripping from his dark hair. Mike placed the towel around his shoulders. "You'd better go below and get out of those wet clothes. I'm sure I can find something to fit you." After I have made a radio call, he thought silently. Taking Lee's arm, he helped him to his feet.
"Thanks, Mike, but I can manage."
Stubborn as usual, some things never change. Mike shook his head as he watched Lee head below.
Mike manoeuvred Destiny back into her berth alongside the wharf and killed the engine, while Dan made fast the ropes fore and aft. When everything was secured, Mike went below to check on Lee. After a quick stop at his own cabin to grab the first aid kit and some dry clothes, he made for the galley, expecting to find Lee drinking coffee there. However, the galley was empty, so he continued to the bunk area, where he found a still damp Lee Crane had wrapped himself in a red plaid blanket.
Mike couldn't help smiling at the sight of his friend. "Are you sure you're okay? I brought the first aid kit," he said, laying the kit on the nearest bunk.
Lee nodded. "I'm fine. It's only my pride that is bruised."
"Yeah, sorry, it wasn't exactly smooth sailing," Mike apologised.
Lee shook his head. "It wasn't your fault."
They were interrupted by footsteps on the wooden stairs. Chip appeared and stopped at the bottom. "What happened? Do I need to call Jamie?"
Mike stifled a laugh as Lee groaned. "Lee took a little spill," he informed the blond.
"I'm fine," Lee stated firmly, glaring at Mike.
Chip shook his head. "I swear, Lee – you really are not safe to be let out alone," he teased.
"Maybe we should let him get dressed," Mike suggested, taking pity on Lee. He knew that Chip would not let him live this down. "I'll put your wet stuff in the dryer."
"Thanks, Mike."
"Come on, Chip. We can have coffee while we wait," Mike picked up Lee's wet clothes and headed up the steps to the galley.
"Well?" Lee asked as Jamieson finished his exam and hung the stethoscope around his neck.
"You'll live," the doctor told him, grudgingly. "I'd prefer you stay overnight for observation, but I know that is not an option."
Here being the Institute medical facility, where Chip had insisted that Lee get checked out. Lee carefully eased himself down from the exam table. "I'm fine, Jamie." The swim had not helped his injury, but he was not going to tell Jamie that. Lee hadn't realised until now, just how debilitating his injury was. Although the stitches were out and the wound was healing well, nearly every move was still painful.
"Don't worry, doc. I'll take him home and tuck him in," Chip joked, handing Lee his shirt.
Lee sighed and shook his head in resignation. There was no point arguing. He'd been in this situation enough times and understood his friends were only concerned for his well being.
"I want to see you back here tomorrow," Jamieson told him.
Lee looked from Chip to the doctor and shrugged. "Aye, sir," he conceded, knowing that there was no way of avoiding Jamieson's orders. He may be Chip's CO, but Chip was tenacious and would hassle him until he gave up.
"You're lucky you didn't bust that wound open," Jamieson replied sternly.
Lee bit back a retort as he finished dressing. It wasn't Jamie's fault; he was just doing his job. Lee was just anxious to get back to the Seaview. "Can I go now?"
Jamieson shoved his hands into the pockets of his white coat and regarded his patient. "Could I stop you?"
"Sorry, Jamie. I'm just tired of being put out on the beach. When are you going to let me return to my job?" What really bothered him was the thought of Seaview sailing without him if Jamie didn't clear him for duty soon.
Jamieson's expression softened. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."
"Come on, Lee – let's get out of here before he changes his mind." Chip opened the door and motioned Lee out ahead of him.
Lee had shown up bright and early at the Institute hospital. Now he was perched on the exam table, buttoning his shirt. He'd worn a uniform in the hope that Jamieson would clear him for duty.
"You decent, Lee?" Nelson asked, poking his head around the door.
"Yes, come in, Admiral," Lee smiled, in spite of a sudden suspicion that doc had told Nelson about his mishap the previous day.
"How is he doing, Will?" Nelson asked as he entered the exam room and closed the door behind him.
Jamieson folded his arms and regarded Crane. "If it will keep him out of trouble, I will clear him for light duty."
Lee smile widened to a grin as he slid down from the table. "Thanks, Jamie."
"NOTE, I said light duty," Jamieson warned. "No crawling around in air vents or other such activity, and NO DRIVING."
"Don't worry, Will – I'll see that he follows orders," Nelson assured him before turning to Lee. "You heard him; it's back to duty for you," he put a hand on Lee's shoulder and steered him towards the door.
"Aye, sir," Lee replied happily.
End
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