Chapter 10

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Chip Morton paced back and forth in the Observation Nose of Seaview, anxiety filling him as he worried about the two men down in the Sick Bay: one fighting for his life and the other apparently fighting for his soul. He'd watched the battle take place on the beach through the periscope, his insides twisting in fear and helplessness as he knew they were too far out to help.

He'd watched as Lee had fallen, then the admiral. Saw Lee rise, a gun in his hand and shoot, more than once, the man that had shot the admiral. He'd watched him run to his side and gather him in his arms, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

It had seemed an eternity until they had been able to surface and launch the rafts to help. Watching from the deck, he saw Jamieson and the others race to their sides, then saw Lee collapse and the fear inside him threatened to explode. It hadn't taken long for them to do what little they could for the two men and begin to bring them home, placing them both on the raft gently. He had been confused for a moment as he saw Sharkey run back to where the two men had fought for their lives and grab something, then run back.

When the rafts had finally reached the side of the boat, he'd stared down in fear at the paleness of Nelson's face and the blood that ran down his chest. Tearing his eyes from the admiral, he watched as Lee's unconscious body was brought aboard, a bloody bandage wrapped about his left arm.

He'd heard Jamieson order the two taken to Sick Bay as fast as they could and watched them carried inside.

Reaching a hand out, he'd stopped Jamieson before he could follow his patients below. "Jamie…how…how bad?"

"The admiral's hurt badly. He's losing blood fast. As for the captain, I don't know. I need to get the bleeding stopped in his arm and soon. I'll let you know when I know anything," he answered in a rush before racing off to follow his patients.

He'd felt someone come up beside him, then heard a quiet, "Mr. Morton?"

Turning he saw Chief Sharkey, anxiety plastered on his face. "Chief?"

"Mr. Morton, the…the Skipper…well, he came to just as we were putting him on the raft and he…well he seemed very adamant that we find this backpack and bring it with us," he said handing it to the exec.

"Did he say what I'm to do with it?"

"No sir. He just said it was important. He…well he passed out before he could say anything else."

"Thanks, Chief. I'll take care of it," he said as he took the pack and stared down at it, trying not to flinch at the flecks of red on the outside. What the hell happened to you two out there?

That had been six hours ago. In that time, he'd set a course for the nearest naval hospital and put the pack in his cabin. He'd yet to hear anything from Doc and was just about to call down to Sick Bay when Jamieson's tired voice came over the intercom telling him he could come to Sick Bay.

"Jamie?" he asked in concern as he practically burst through the doors to the Sick Bay, his eyes searching for Crane and Nelson.

"Easy, Commander."

"How are they?" he asked anxiously.

"Come in my office and we'll talk," he said turning away and heading to his office. Morton looked back at the two occupied gurneys, corpsmen hovering over the still forms and fought the urge to go to them and see for himself that they were alive.

"Mr. Morton?"

Forcing himself to turn away, he headed into Jamieson's office. Sitting heavily in the chair by the doctor's desk, he asked, "How are they?"

"Alive. Captain Crane will be fine. He was shot in the left arm but the bullet went right through without causing too much damage, although it did nick the artery. He lost a lot of blood but he'll be fine with some rest. He has a rather large bruise on the side of his face. I don't know what happened there but it looks as though it happened a few days ago."

"And the admiral?"

Jamieson sighed heavily and Morton knew it wasn't going to be the same easy prognosis. "The admiral has a gunshot wound to the chest and two holes in his leg. I'm assuming the leg wound is from the arrow the captain told you about. The chest wound is bad. He lost a lot of blood before we could get it under control. The good thing is it didn't hit anything vital. The leg wound is septic however. I'm pumping him full of antibiotics, hoping he begins to respond to them but his temperature has been climbing."

"Will he be all right?"

"I don't know," he replied, sadness tingeing is voice. "He's weak, as I said. I don't know if he has the strength to fight. We…we lost him briefly while we were operating to take the bullet out of his chest."

"Oh man, Admiral…"

"Something else you should know is, it looks as though he was tortured."

"What? Dear God," he whispered. "Lee never said anything about that when he called in. What the hell kind of mission was the admiral on?"

"That I don't know. But apparently they're both concerned about a backpack. The admiral muttered something about it when we got him in here. The captain woke up long enough on the raft to ask about it. Sharkey retrieved it I think. I assume it has something to do with whatever the admiral was sent there for."

"I have the backpack. If either of them wakes up asking about it, it's safe," he said. "Can I see them?"

"They're not awake and won't be for some time," Jamieson said as he stood slowly from his chair and walked back into the Sick Bay. "I want the captain to sleep for a bit…more than a bit actually. He's exhausted. The admiral isn't conscious at all and I suspect he won't be for some time to come."

"Assuming he lives?" Chip added quietly.

"Yes. Assuming that," Jamieson said sadly after a brief hesitation.

Morton walked to Crane's side and stared down at him. A bruise marked the left side of his head while his left arm was bandaged heavily and propped up on pillows. Leaning closer, he placed a hand on his friend's arm and spoke softly. "Lee? It's Chip. You're safe. So is the admiral. You kept him alive. Rest easy."

Rising, he walked to the next bed and stared down at Nelson, silent and still, dressings around his chest, his leg wrapped in thick bandages and propped up on pillows. Fading bruises and one black eye marred his craggy face. Peaking out from the bandages on his chest, Chip could see marks crossing Nelson's chest. "Doc? What are those?" he asked, pointing to the slash marks.

"I'm afraid he was slashed. Probably from whoever tortured him. He also has marks on his back…welts actually. They're healing but they look like he was hit with straps of some kind. He also has some bruised ribs. Thankfully, they aren't broken."

"Damn. If I had the monster that did that here…I'd…"

"I know the feeling," Jamie said.

Morton leaned close and whispered into Nelson's ear. "Hang on, sir. You need to fight. Lee's all right. I know you must be worried about him but he's here with you and he'll be fine. Just get better."

Patting Nelson's hand gently, he looked up at Jamieson. "I set course for Okinawa. The naval hospital has been warned we're coming in with casualties. We should be there by the day after tomorrow. We have a pretty major storm system up above right now, or we could life flight him out."

"There's nothing we can do about that. He'll just have to hold on."

"Can I sit with them?"

"Neither of them is going to be awake any time soon. But…I suspect you don't really care so pull up a seat. But only for a few minutes."

"Just a few minutes, Doc," he said turning his eyes back to his two friends. "What happened to you two out there?"