A/N – Just a couple of points to make with reference to this update:
1. The references to the annual Great Wheelbarrow Race and its background are absolutely fair dinkum. If anyone is interested in reading more you can google "wheelbarrow way" and "great wheelbarrow race".
I know exactly how tough this race is – I was crazy enough to agree to run as a member of one of this year's teams… Lots of preparation and a month to fully recover! And…I'm even contemplating a repeat appearance next year – perhaps.
2. For further details of Samaru and Ray Walsman please refer to Sea Patrol, Season Two, "The Coup".
I think that covers everything. Hope you enjoy this update.
Terror Down Under Chapter 14
Harm entered the ship's office with Swain close on his heels. Already crammed into the confined space were Mike Flynn, Kate McGregor, Madeline Cruise, Jim Roth and "Dutchy" Mulholland.
"Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Captain Rabb," remarked the ASIO agent with her usual biting lack of the social graces. Harm let the barb roll off him, though he noticed the tightening of both Mike's and Kate's mouths as well as the quick glare of reproval directed at her by the ship's bosun, Dutchy Mulholland. Harm simply rolled his eyes at Mike and leant back against the wall as Swain closed the door behind them.
"All right, Ms Cruise," returned Flynn tightly, "let's stop your snide barbs at the crew of this ship, including – especially including – Captain Rabb. We're all here to do the same job so let's get on with it. You have a briefing for us, I believe?"
For a moment Harm thought the Cruise woman would continue her verbal barrage but she appeared to check herself and merely nodded before walking over to the large-scale map on the wall.
"Our latest intel is that Coburn and Cooper have moved their operations to Dudley Island." With a laser pointer, she pinpointed the tiny island, one of the hundreds of islands along Queensland's Great Barrier Reef, which lay out in the Coral Sea, in a north-north-easterly line from Cairns.
Mike frowned as he stared at the map. "That's in a direct line with the Samaru Islands."
Madeline Cruise's displeasure at having her briefing interrupted was obvious by the tightening of her lips.
"As the Commander has commented, it is indeed close to Samaru. Given the unrest caused by insurgents there three years ago, it's hard to believe this is merely coincidence. We believe there are plans to unsettle Samaru again and use it as a base to cause further ongoing unrest throughout the whole region. It's our job to prevent this happening."
"It's been three years, sir," agreed Kate McGregor, looking at her CO thoughtfully. "Their elections are probably coming around again."
"They're scheduled for Saturday, July the 2nd XO," Mike looked back at the ASIO agent. "Do you think they'll try to rig the elections like Walsman tried to do three years ago?"
"We believe they're already using the same intimidating tactics that Walsman was behind last time. The Samaruan government never did completely eradicate the insurgent forces and their policy of mending their fences with their political enemies looks like it's going to come back and bite not just them on their rear ends, but also cause us a lot of trouble. There's no doubt that Cooper and Coburn are up to their collective necks in this and that Dudley Island is now being used as their training base." She stared around at the group in the ship's office. "We are going to raid that base and we are going to bring these two back to face trial. I do not want any stuff-ups like your last effort."
Harm stared at the woman, feeling his antipathy towards her reaching even higher levels than before. He was aware of the rising tension in the cabin and the subtle sense of a 'closing of the ranks' as all the service personnel straightened themselves and glared scornfully at the arrogant ASIO agent. Jim Roth's deceptively easy-going manner had vanished and he drew in an angry breath, obviously preparing his retort, but Mike Flynn spoke on every one's behalf.
"Ms Cruise," his icy voice was at complete odds with the fire flashing from his eyes, "even for you, that was particularly offensive and completely uncalled for. Captain Roth lost a good man – a man whom we were all honoured to have served with. I don't know why you find it necessary to be so aggressively antagonistic towards everyone on this ship; men and women I might remind you, who consider it a privilege to serve their country and who know their lives may be on the line at any moment, but I insist you change your hostile attitude towards us. You and I have clashed, but there is no need for you to turn your personal dislike of me into a vendetta against others who are here to work with you. If you don't like that and if you can't control your temper or your tongue, I'm putting in to Port Douglas and I'm dropping you off and I will be telling Commodore Marshall precisely why I've taken such action."
The two stared at one another whilst everyone else held their collective breath. Harm knew that Mike was making a huge call, a call that could ultimately put his career on the line. He didn't know the man well enough as yet to decide whether this was one colossal bluff on the Commander's part or whether he would actually proceed with his threat, should Madeline Cruise call his bluff. Judging by the frozen looks on the faces of everyone else in the cabin, he suspected they were just as unsure as he was.
He remembered Cresswell's comment from the previous week, in their last meeting before the General had left to return to Washington DC.
"I have no doubt you and Commander Flynn will get along quite well, Rabb," his CO had remarked as they had been finalising Harm's requests for his anticipated administration staff and his choice of a 2IC. "Apparently he has something of a reputation as a cowboy and isn't above creative interpretation of orders. I understand his success rate is as impressive as yours and he runs what's recognised as the best patrol boat crew in the RAN."
Harm, caught off guard hadn't known how to respond, so had contented himself with a somewhat noncommittal reply, hoping to avoid the potential dynamite Cresswell had dropped in his path with his comment.
"He's certainly popular with his crew, sir. I've seen exactly how much they respect him and I'd be willing to bet they'd follow him into hell and back without a second thought."
Cresswell had stared at his subordinate for several seconds before grinning sardonically.
"As I said, Captain, I believe the two of you will get along just fine." And the general had dropped his gaze to the paper on his desk.
"You don't want much, do you?" Before Harm could answer, Cresswell had raised a silencing hand.
"You've made interesting choices here, Rabb. I have no problems with your requesting First Sergeant Victor Galindez to oversee administration – that's a very good choice given his recent years of under-cover work and experience with the Company. However, I'm curious as to why you've asked for Lt Commander Roberts as your 2IC. After all, he did refuse to go to London with you."
"May I be blunt, General?"
The faintest of smirks crossed Cresswell's face at Harm's question.
"You, Captain Rabb? Be blunt? That will be a novelty!" Cresswell made no effort to hide the sarcasm as he regarded the other man with interest. Having no option but to ignore his superior's tone, Harm continued.
"Sir, we both know that Bud Roberts is a very capable officer and – begging the general's pardon – a damn good lawyer. I'm going to need someone here whom I can rely on absolutely – you said as much yourself two days ago. I've given this a lot of thought and I believe the Lt Commander is the man for the job."
"The position is an O-5, and Roberts is only O-4," objected the general mildly.
"Bud Roberts is well overdue for a promotion, sir, and this would be the perfect opportunity."
"To be honest Captain, I agree with you. Your request hasn't taken me completely by surprise, I must confess, but I'm also curious as to whether you believe his wife will agree to the move. If I remember correctly, she was the stumbling block last time – wanting to stay put in DC."
"I believe that Lt Roberts can be made to see the value and the logic in her husband accepting this billet, sir." Harm paused, wondering if he could push the envelope a little further. Taking a breath, he continued. "We both know that if Bud refuses another billet it will be the end of his career. He needs something like this to prove his worth to those who don't know him as well as we do. Harriet is actually quite ambitious for her husband and if I were to talk to her, I believe I could convince her. They both know that he has to move up when his next fitrep is due, or he's out. This would solve that."
"Rabb," Cresswell had fixed him with a steely eye. "The JAG Corps is not a benevolent society. Roberts has to prove himself on his own merits, not have you doing it on his behalf!"
"Begging the general's pardon," Harm's tone was stiffly formal, "but we both know that Lt Commander Roberts is the man for this job. Just because we're old friends does not mean that I'd be providing a bed of roses for him!"
To his surprise, Cresswell broke into a smile.
"Calm down, Captain. As I've already said, I agree with your choices, and I'll see their orders are cut immediately. If you want to ring the Roberts and give them a heads up, you are welcome to do so."
Once again, as Harm returned to the office that had been assigned to him, he had shaken his head at the general's modus operandi. Was Cresswell like that with everyone, or just with me, he wondered as he sank into his chair, swinging around to gaze out at the tropical waters glinting in the still brilliant early autumn sunlight and reaching for his phone. It was still mid-morning in Cairns, meaning it would be around 7pm the previous evening on the USA eastern seaboard. He'd be catching his friends at dinner, but he grinned as he put the call through. What the heck, he chuckled. For once I'm going to insist that Bud stand up to Harriet or I'll be explaining the facts of the matter to her myself.
The conversation had proceeded much as he'd anticipated, with Bud being delighted at Harm's request then almost immediately sobering as the reality of his wife's likely reaction hit home.
"Uh, sir, maybe I should get back to you on this one…"
"No, Bud," Harm's voice brooked no argument. "Let me explain the facts of life to Harriet. Your future's at stake here, Commander. This is important – not just to me, but to you as well. You have to decide whether you want to stay in the Navy or whether you'll accept retirement when your 20's up and move into civilian law practice. You can't knock this one back. I need you here, and it would be a great life for Harriet and my godchildren. Put her on, Bud."
And fifteen minutes later Harm had replaced the receiver into its cradle and smiled contentedly as he tipped his chair back. Mission accomplished. He had gently, but firmly, overridden all of Harriet's objections pointing out that Bud had only two options – accept the billet or retire in a few months on a Lt Commander's pension and seek a position in civilian life. He knew that Harriet's ambitions for her husband would eventually overrule her personal attachment to her comfortable life in the nation's capital. He had often wondered if she had privately regretted her opposition to the London billet Harm had offered Bud 6 years earlier. He also knew that what he was asking was no small thing: to move a family of four children to a different country on the other side of the world, with a completely different climate, was no small undertaking.
Harm snapped back to the present as he watched Flynn and Cruise staring one another down. He experienced a moment of slight unease. Surely Mike Flynn was bluffing? Then the ASIO agent capitulated.
"You can be sure Canberra will be hearing about your threatened lack of cooperation, Commander. Now, may I continue this briefing?"
An hour later as Harm leant against the EOD casually watching the navigator, Lieutenant Nikki Caetano (whose return to the Hammersley had been enthusiastically greeted by the majority of the crew and who was obviously a well-loved favourite), as she worked over her screen. His glance rested more than once on the Hammersley's captain, who was staring silently ahead he occupied the captain's chair.
"Boss, I was wondering…" Dutchy Mulholland moved to stand beside his commanding officer, who finally turned in his chair to look up at his bosun.
"Wondering what, Dutchy?"
"Wondering if we're going to be able to guarantee that our team will be able to enter the Wheelbarrow Race?"
Harm turned his head sharply, somewhat unsure he had heard correctly.
"I'm not sure, either, Dutchy," sighed Flynn, rubbing his chin reflectively. "We're still scheduled for maintenance for that period, and our leave's still tentatively approved, but I wouldn't want to count on it at this point in time."
"Not much we can do about it, mate," offered Swain from his position beside his captain.
"To be completely honest, Dutchy, the race had slipped my mind," admitted Flynn with a touch of obvious embarrassment. The tall bosun merely grinned sympathetically at his commanding officer.
"I wonder if they'll refund us our entry fee if leave's cancelled and we're still at sea?" he asked.
"Who knows, Dutchy? I certainly didn't read all the fine print," said Kate McGregor with a shrug. "What do you think, sir?" she addressed Mike carefully. "Do we assume we're going to have this job wrapped up and be back in time to run?"
"Run where, Lieutenant?" the acerbic voice of Madeline Cruise entered the conversation as she entered the bridge in time to hear Kate's last question.
Kate rolled her eyes at Flynn before turning to address the woman whom she had so obviously come to detest. At least, now that Nikki was back on board, she was no longer obliged to share her cabin with the ASIO agent, the latter having been re-located to share accommodation with Leading Seaman Rebecca "Bomber" Brown, who had returned to the Hammersley in her former position as ship's chef.
"It's an annual event up here, Ms Cruise – The Great Wheelbarrow Race. It's a 140 kilometre relay-type race over three days where teams run – pushing a wheelbarrow from Mareeba to Chillagoe. Everyone enters to raise funds for their favourite charities."
"Why would anyone want to push a wheelbarrow for three days?" asked Cruise carelessly, glancing around the bridge. It was clear to everyone that she was not really interested. Harm noted the way Kate McGregor's jaw set at the other woman's offhand attitude.
"Hardly pointless, Ms Cruise," interjected Flynn without looking around. "Teams raise a considerable amount of money for charities – and have a great deal of fun in the process. But it's no walk in the park, either. Everyone has to be pretty fit." He looked up at Dutchy. "All shore leave's cancelled till we wrap this mission up, Dutchy. I'm sure Commander White will let the race people know if we're not able to run."
"Fair enough, sir," agreed the Petty Officer and moved back to his station.
Harm's curiosity was by now more than piqued.
"Pardon my ignorance, but could someone explain this – what did you call it, 'Wheelbarrow Race' – to me?" he addressed the bridge occupants in general, but was looking quizzically from Mike to Kate.
"I'll defer to you, sir," Kate glanced at her commanding officer. "You're a local, after all."
"The Great Wheelbarrow Race, Captain Rabb, has been a charity fundraising event up on the Tableland for quite a few years now. Some of us were in the NavCom team last year, in the 'Services' category. Didn't do too badly, either," he grinned reminiscently. "The idea is that teams of up to ten members run from Mareeba to Chillagoe over three days, pushing a wheelbarrow. It's rather like a relay – depending on the number you have in your team – each member runs flat out with the wheelbarrow for anything from say, 20 to 50 seconds, then the next person takes over. Each team has to supply its own bus and support personnel. The trickiest part is exiting and re-entering the bus. You do that up to 140 times over the three days."
"But why do you have to push a wheelbarrow?" queried Harm, completely intrigued by now.
"Because the course is run along the Wheelbarrow Way. It's the route that the early gold prospectors followed when they came out during the late 19th century Palmer River gold rush up here in North Queensland. They'd get off the boats in Townsville or Cairns and make their way up the range to Mareeba and that's where they'd buy their gear before setting off to the gold fields around Chillagoe. They'd put all their belongings in a wheelbarrow and push it the whole way. I believe it was a bit longer than 140km in those days!" Mike grinned at Harm. "Pushing the wheelbarrow is both an historical link for the race rationale and adds a bit of extra interest and fun – rather than just running for the sake of running."
"So, does each team supply its own wheelbarrow?" Harm was grinning back at the Hammersley's captain.
"No. They're all provided by the Mareeba Regional Council. That way everyone pushes an identical wheelbarrow."
"Well, if we're back and your team is able to run, Commander, I am going to come and cheer you all on. This sounds like something that shouldn't be missed!"
"We might just hold you to that, sir," acknowledged Mike with a nod.
Mike Flynn lent against the ship's railing, watching the Hammersley's wake cutting through the clear green waters behind him. Events of the past few weeks had happened with such speed that he'd had little or no time to reflect on the news bombshell that Ryan and Bird had dropped when they had visited him the previous week. He pushed a hand through his hair and shook his head. Had it really only been seven days ago? He half turned as he heard a firm foot tread approaching from behind, his shoulders relaxing as the tall form of Captain Harmon Rabb joined him. Smiling a welcome, he returned to his silent contemplation and allowed his thoughts to drift back to the difficult meeting in Maxine White's office the morning after his son and young Jessica had broken the news of his impending grandparent status.
Commander Maxine White's Office - 6 days earlier
Maxine's eyes had been quietly assessing as she ran her gaze over her visitors. The fact that Mike was present, caused her gaze to sharpen as she looked from her son to Jessica Bird. In that moment, Maxine knew in her heart the news the trio was bearing. She remained silent as all three took the seats she had indicated, young Bird's eyes betraying her personal apprehension.
"And what brings you three here this morning?" she finally asked, looking from Ryan to Mike. When Ryan hesitated, Mike spoke up.
"Ryan has a couple of things he needs to discuss with you, Max. I'm here both because I'm Ryan's father and technically I'm still Seaman Bird's commanding officer – and I promised them both I'd be here for them."
Maxine took a breath, her eyes moving from Mike to Ryan and Bird but she spoke to her son.
"And what is it you have to discuss with me, Ryan, that you need both Mike and young Seaman Bird present?"
"Well…ummm… there are a couple of things, Mum. You see…" Ryan moved his chair closer to Bird's and reached out to take her hand, smiling gently at her as he did so. "Bird and I…well…we want to get married!"
Maxine had remained silent as her eyes moved from her son, to Jessica Bird and to Mike before resting back on Ryan.
"This is a little sudden, Ryan. I wasn't aware that you and Seaman Bird were even seeing one another." Her eyes moved accusingly to Mike. She took a breath and looked back at her son. "Is there something else I need to know?"
"Yes, ma'am," Jessica surprised the two men by suddenly speaking out. "I'm pregnant."
Maxine looked at the girl, her face expressionless and then back at her son. There was a pause before she finally spoke.
"I presume you're the father, Ryan, and this is your way of telling me I'm about to become a grandmother?"
Bird's eyes became enormous. Was the commander of NavCom making a joke? Commander White had always seemed immensely intimidating to the girl and she had even heard Dutchy commenting to Swain that the CO of NavCom 'scared him rigid' and his one aim in life for his tour of duty on The Hammersley was to never have to cross swords with her. She had heard Swain laugh ruefully as he agreed with his fellow Petty Officer's comment. And, although it was simply her own perception, she privately thought that Lieutenant McGregor seemed to stiffen whenever Commander White appeared. Bird had come to appreciate the input and guidance she had received from her much respected Executive Officer and she was more than a little wary of the woman who, in her private opinion, appeared to have upset her role model. She had been more than nervous about telling Ryan's mother their news, fully expecting the woman to verbally flay her alive. She stared across the desk and then glanced nervously at Ryan.
'Yes, mum, I'm the father; yes, I want to marry Jess; and yes, you're going to be a grandmother."
Maxine glanced down at where her hands lay on the desk as she fiddled with her pen. Finally she looked up at Mike.
"I presume you're here to speak on their behalf, Mike?"
Mike Flynn shrugged slightly as he allowed a smile to turn up the corners of his mouth. "I said I'd support them in whatever decision they made regarding their future and that I'd come with them to give you the news. So, yes, here I am. I've had a few more hours than you to adjust to the idea of being a grandparent, so I'm over the initial shock. Why don't we both listen to what Ryan and Jess have to say about how they'd like to approach the future and see where we go from there – how we can both help them."
Maxine leant back in her chair and looked at her son who met her gaze steadily and with something akin to defiance. She sighed.
"I thought you were keen to re-join the Navy, Ryan. I've already set the wheels in motion for you to be considered for re-entry as a midshipman. Unfortunately, we can't completely ignore your hasty resignation, but given the circumstances Admiral Brinkley was willing to give you a second chance. This won't help, I'm afraid."
"Well, stuff the navy, mum!" Ryan's defiance stiffened his posture and he sat upright in his chair. "I'm not walking out on Jess. I want my child to know its real father right from the start and not have to wait 19 years for the truth!"
"Ryan…" Mike's voice faltered and he looked at his son in dismay. Were they ever going to be able to move on? He had had such high hopes after the previous evening, but it was obvious there was a lot of work to be done on re-establishing his relationship with the younger man.
All colour had drained from Maxine's face, whilst Jessica Bird looked from one face to another before fixing her eyes back on the young man she loved.
"Ryan, please don't talk to your mother like that," she implored softly. "You can't undo the past, no matter how hurtful it is. But fighting isn't going to solve anything. It's not what we came here for."
The girl took a deep breath and turned bravely to face Commander White.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry that we've disappointed you, and if you're worried that Ryan and I broke any fraternisation rules, I can assure you that we didn't have an intimate relationship until after Ryan resigned. We both observed the rules religiously before then. And much and all as I would like to pursue my own career in the RAN, if it impacts adversely on Ryan's future then I'll accept discharge rather than taking maternity leave."
"Jess! You're not going to make that sort of sacrifice – " Ryan's voice betrayed his distress and he turned back to his mother.
"Mum. I don't think you're in any position to point the finger at us, and I'm bloody well not going to let Jess take the fall for this – "
Mike saw the two red spots staining Maxine's cheeks and hastened to interrupt.
"Ryan – take it easy," he stared his son down, although the younger man could not see the nervousness Mike was feeling as he navigated these waters, desperately seeking the best outcome for everyone concerned – especially the two young people seated alongside him. He turned to Maxine.
"Ryan's right, Max. Neither you nor I are in any position to take the high moral ground here. What we did was quite simply wrong, given you were still a married woman. There's no question of fraternisation here. All these two have done is to jump the gun. They're not the first and they won't be the last – and they need our support. Now, if you can't see your way clear to give them that, then I'm sorry, because I'm going to help them every way I can."
Both Ryan and Jess stared wide-eyed at Mike. The girl, although she was accustomed to Mike Flynn's tendency to question and interpret orders rather creatively, had never heard him address a superior in such a way. In the silence that followed, Maxine returned Mike's glare with one of her own but, as Mike had hoped, her overwhelming love for her only child finally won out and she sighed in defeat.
"All right. I can't say I'm over the moon with the news, but I dare say I'll become accustomed to the idea of being a grandmother – eventually." Her eyes swung from Mike back to her son and then across to the still wide-eyed Jessica. "Now, don't jump down my throat, Ryan, but are you absolutely certain that the two of you want to get married?"
Ryan glanced from his mother to Mike and back again.
"Are you sure you two haven't been talking?" he asked suspiciously.
After that the atmosphere had lightened and the four had talked at length before Maxine had to attend a meeting.
Mike smiled with satisfaction as he reflected on the eventual outcome of that conversation.
tbc