Chapter Sixteen
"Mr. O'Brien, it's the flying sub," Patterson reported, having been reassigned to sonar.
"Where?" Bobby asked, crossing the deck quickly and leaning over Pat's shoulder.
"Just coming into range now, sir."
"They must be under radio silence protocol," Bobby muttered out loud. "Monitor its approach," he ordered and then stepped away. He walked back to the chart table and leaned forward, considering when to bring the XO up to date, before making an internal decision to wait for the flying sub to dock so that he could have all the facts to present to Mr. Morton.
# # # # #
Lt. O'Brien stood near the deck hatch as Chief Sharkey turned the wheel, he looked up to the young officer for the go ahead to open the heavy hatch as the security detail waited with weapons drawn. The flying sub had approached without making radio contact and auto-dock had been initiated; they had no idea what they were going to find when they opened the hatch and were under high-alert. The hatch now raised; they were surprised that no one had greeted them at the top of the ladder.
Sharkey motioned the security detail to stand-ready and took the ladder down into the cockpit. A moment later, his head appeared again as he climbed out and exclaimed, "There's no one there, sir!"
# # # # #
"The flying sub was set on Auto-Nav, retracing the original route they had taken to the island," Bobby explained to the XO who was still lying flat on his back in sickbay. "We accessed the flash codes FS1 received; there were two standard check-in codes; one stand-by code; followed by an emergency extraction code."
"Looks like they found what they were looking for," Chip replied, silently cursing the fact that he was bedridden, having been duly warned by the doctor of the danger of his lung being punctured by the broken rib should he even be bumped in the wrong way. For himself, it was worth the risk to be in the Control Room in the thick of things, but Jamie had medical authority over the situation. "So, Kowalski went in solo and sent FS1 back on automatic controls," he surmised.
"Aye sir, all three dive suits are missing."
Chip nodded.
"I have two options," Bobby continued, explaining his dilemma.
"Send a Detail in now, or wait for an extraction team from the Navy," Chip finished for him to Bobby's nod.
"Kowalski's on the ground," Bobby thought out loud, "but the code indicates they're in danger."
Chip studied the confusion playing on the lieutenant's face. He felt the bandage under his hand and breathed a little deeper, testing his physical response, but was stopped almost immediately when a sharp pain stabbed him like a knife deep inside. He wasn't physically able to help, and he wasn't in command, that burden fell to the younger man sitting beside him.
"What does your gut tell you to do?" he said, confident in the officer Lee had left in command before leaving.
Bobby swallowed, his eyes diverting from Chip's for only a moment. "The Skipper could have sent a standard extraction code, but he didn't. We've already lost two hours waiting for the flying sub to arrive, and we risk being ordered to stand-down until a SEAL team arrives, or worse, kept out of the extraction completely."
"I agree," Chip replied, his eyes urging Bobby to make the decision they both knew needed to be made.
"I'll authorize an Extraction Detail," Bobby said, "I can't leave the boat with all senior members of the command team out of commission, so I'll put Sharkey in command."
"He's up to the task," Chip assured him, "and for the record, Bobby. The command is yours and therefore the decision, but it's what I would have done as well."
Bobby swallowed and nodded his thanks. The Exec was a fair and respected officer, but he didn't wield "'atta boys" often, and this one was much appreciated at the moment.
"I'll see to it and keep you informed of the progress," he said standing.
"Thanks, Bobby," Chip replied. He listened to Bobby's footfalls as he left sickbay and only then allowed a grimace of pain to shroud his face, though he wasn't sure if it was his injured lung or concern for Lee and the Admiral that hurt more.
# # # # #
Harry's pacing had slowed as the admiral leaned against the steel gurney waiting. Over an hour later, the door opened and he was ordered out of the room. Walking between the security guard and Bremer, he was satisfied to leave his cell in the hopes of learning why Lee had been taken. He knew the younger ONI operative wasn't a stranger to interrogation, but since Dr. Barnes hadn't been curious enough to ask him even one question, he seriously doubted that wasn't what she was after. The other possibilities were disturbing, and what had thus been the cause of his concerns.
He was led down a hall he had yet to enter, and took that as a good sign that Lee hadn't been brought to Belinda's laboratory, but when the door opened, he saw his second concern had been realized.
Lee was sitting on a gurney, his head lowered and steadying himself with both hands beside him. On his wrist, he wore a newly installed wristband. He raised his head slowly toward the open door, the weariness on his face indicating that the device had already been tested, by the looks of the dark-haired captain, more than once.
Harry locked eyes with him and Lee offered a half-smile, meant to assure him that things weren't as bleak as they appeared, though the admiral highly doubted that at the moment.
"What's going on, here?" Harry demanded.
"Just a little insurance," Belinda replied with a devious smile to match the implications of her answer.
"Insurance for what?"
"I need your help, Harry, and since you found our work here, I can assume that it is only a matter of time before the island is infiltrated," she stated matter-of-factly. "A submarine has already been dispatched to evacuate the lab, and I have more than enough samples from the fissure to continue my work. I'm so very close to perfecting the exposure dosage, but the transformation only produces a successful transmutation in one out of four cases. I need you to review my data and discover what I'm missing."
Though she had laid it out smugly, Harry could tell she wasn't happy having to ask for his help.
"Now, why would I want to help you?" he asked, his blue eyes piercing with defiance.
Her cheek twitched as she reached into her pocket and he noticed Bremer stiffen at the sight of the control box. Lee tightened his resolve preparing for the inevitable, as a victorious smile formed then grew when she activated it, initiating a grunt from Lee as he flung his head back, his face tightening in pain and groaning unwittingly.
"Stop!" Harry yelled, taking a step forward, but Bremer, unlike previous times, was physically unaffected by the device and pulled him roughly back by the shoulder. "Stop, Belinda!" he implored.
She disengaged the device, resulting in Lee dropping his head to compose himself, while Belinda looked at Harry as if silently posing the question once more.
"Where are the files?" Harry asked.
"Admiral, no!" Lee implored, his head shooting up with beseeching eyes begging him to reconsider.
Harry had no way of telling him that he was only buying time, nor could he tell Lee that he had no intention of actually helping the evil doctor. Their eyes locked for only a second before Harry turned his attention to Belinda.
"I need a quiet place to work," he said to the smug smile of his seemingly triumphant hostess.
She headed for the door, her high heels tapping out confidence as she walked.
"Just one more thing," Harry added, stopping Belinda's progress in her tracks.
She spun around at the implication that he was bargaining for something.
"You're in no position to demand anything, Harry," she spewed with contempt. It had been all she could do to have to ask for his help in the first place, but Dr. Gamma demanded more than endless experiments. He had invested a year into her work and fully expected a payoff. Nor did she want to ask for another researcher with expertise in human biology, as surely Gamma would have been able to produce; that would mean her loss of control over the project. Exploiting Harriman Nelson's knowledge was the best option to further her place in the dark underworld of criminals with dictator tendencies.
"Oh, I think I am," he perceived correctly.
She raised an eyebrow for him to continue, desperately attempting to appear in control of the situation.
"Captain Crane stays where I can see him," he stated.
Belinda threw her head back in throaty laughter. "What's the matter, Harry? Don't trust me?" she taunted at his insinuation that she might submit Lee to her "giant" experiment.
"As a matter of fact, I don't," he said coolly. "That's the deal, Belinda, take it or leave it."
"Oh, very well, Harry," she patronized, before turning to a darker tone, "but I warn you, you'd better produce, or Seaview is going to need a new captain."
# # # # #
Ski made his way through the jungle following the signal from Captain Crane's transmitter. He snaked around trees and boulders, following the trail of least resistance. So far, the Skipper had been right, as it appeared the trail was leading toward the satellite tower. He moved along, slowing and then finally stopping as he studied his tracker. He turned a dial and readjusted the device before coming to the conclusion that the Skipper was on the move, though he was taking a parallel route along side of the original signal.
A quick look at his watch verified that the flying sub should have made it back to Seaview by now offering some comfort that help was on its way, but he knew that he couldn't wait for their arrival. Even with FS1 taking to the air and arriving much sooner than underwater, they still had a two-hour hike ahead of them, and he realized that he was the only backup the Skipper and the Admiral had; they were counting on him. Briefly feeling the comfort of the sidearm in its holster, he then turned his attention back to the tracker and continued to make his way through the island's dense forest.
# # # # #
Belinda opened the door and swayed an arm inward, prompting Harry to enter the sparsely furnished office.
"Don't disappoint me, Harry," she warned, stepping in front of Lee and barring his entrance. Harry's eyes burned with contempt and she smiled, sure she had made her point and moved aside for Lee to enter. He took a step forward and she nodded to Bremer, who added an extra push, sending Lee flying across the room and sliding down the wall.
"Lee!" Harry called and hurried toward him when he was slow to rise.
"Remember, Harry," she reminded and closed the door behind them.
Harry frowned and then turned his attention back to his friend struggling to stand. "Are you all right, Lee?" he asked, lending his strength to help him stand. He was slow to find his footing and Harry leaned in closer to help, that's when Lee spoke.
"We're each on a different frequency," he whispered and feigned a fall downward, to give him more time to brief the Admiral.
Harry acknowledged with his eyes, and realized that the fashion in which Lee was filling him in meant they were under observation again.
"She can't control us all at once… has to manually switch frequencies," he got out as Harry helped him to his feet. That was all the dramatics he thought he could get away with and stood soundly on his feet.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked his back toward the camera and playing along with the gambit Lee employed to inform him of this strategic fact.
"I'm okay, just a little tired," he answered in an honest assessment to inform Harry that though he was compromised he had plenty of fight left in him.
Harry nodded and then eyed the binders of data stacked on the desk. "I'd better get busy then."
"Why the hell are you doing this, Admiral?" Lee asked heatedly.
"Because, I didn't have a choice!" Harry shot back, looking for and finding the duplicity in Lee's eyes to tell him that this too was a ploy. "If you hadn't of lost the radio, we might have had another play," he accused playing along.
"What difference does it make anyway?" Lee asked throwing his hands into the air. "We're completely on our own with Seaview on the surface undergoing repairs," he lied.
"We're wasting time," the admiral replied, moving toward the desk and silently surmising that Lee's emphasis that they were 'on their own', actually meant the exact opposite. He was confident that the clever captain had somehow managed to contact Kowalski. "And I've got to make sure that Dr. Barnes doesn't decide she needs you as her next subject!" he finished passionately; the last added to ensure that Belinda, whom he was sure was monitoring them, believed he was sincerely working on the problem.
Lee rubbed the back of his neck and "dejectedly" acknowledged the truth in the Admiral's statement.
At this point, they were both buying time till help arrived. Only Lee knew the specifics, and that their lives depended on whether Jacob had managed to send the message.
# # # # #
The transmitter was flashing insistently and Ski knew he was closing in fast. He looked down and studied the device again, confused when he saw a building ahead, but the signal tracking in another direction in the jungle. Taking a deep breath, he skirted around the building and followed the tracker to a cave, only partially concealed by brush. He stowed the transmitter and pulled his sidearm, considering that perhaps one or both of the missing officers were injured and unable to make it back to the beach. Stepping into the cave, he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the filtered light of the unoccupied cave. In the center of the cave lay the device he'd been tracking. He crouched down and picked it up and then noticed two rather large tracks. A noise behind him caused him to twist sharply, but before he could train his aim toward the sound, he was knocked off his feet, losing his gun with the impact.
A large form hovered over him, blocking the light from the entrance of the cave. Ski searched the cave floor with one hand looking for his gun, while watching his assailant. His eyes readjusted to the light and made out a large man… a giant… he amended, standing over him.
"Crane sent me," the giant said, stooping down and offering a hand to the downed man.
"Captain Crane sent you?" Ski reiterated slightly startled at this revelation, but reaching anyway to accept the large hand offered him. A surprisingly gentle tug pulled him from the ground to a stand.
"He said you'd come," the giant continued, taking a long step toward the gun on the ground and picking it up, "and not wait for help," he said, handing the gun back to its owner.
Ski's forehead crinkled in confusion, taking the gun and studying it for a long second.
"Yeah, I guess so; me and the Skipper have been through a few skirmishes together," he said, finally taking in the fact that the giant was an ally and holstered his weapon. "My name is Kowalski, but everyone calls me Ski," he said, reaching a hand out.
"Jacob," he said extending a large hand to shake and privately pleased to be known as more than Garrud; a slave to someone else's will.
"Good to meet you, Jacob," Ski greeted. "Listen, I don't know what's going on here. Can you fill me in?" Kowalski asked, needing to know the entire scoop in order to make plans.
# # # # #
Belinda watched from Command Control as Nelson studied the binders, making notes on a pad next to him. Crane, for his part, was pacing the room liked a caged tiger. She twitched a small smile, her hopes high that the great Admiral Harriman Nelson would live up to his reputation as a genius. Though she was loathe to enlist his aid, it had been rather satisfying to see his reaction to the pain emitter she had fitted on Crane.
"The submarine is on its way," Colonel Zagmaan said, approaching from behind.
"Good, and the drone?" she asked over her shoulder.
"Almost within range," Zagmaan replied, his voice tight with tension, but within the military confines of discipline, and though he didn't appreciate being under the command of Dr. Barnes, he did his duty without question.
"Good," she said simply, silently counting her victories over Harriman Nelson.