Chapter 13: "Into the Abyss"
9 January 2024
"Commander Hitchcock, this is Lieutenant Hackney over at base security," the young officer on the other end of the video link told her, sounding almost bored.
"Yes?" Katie didn't mean to sound so short, but she had a senior V.P. from General Dynamics waiting on the other line, because the giant corporation still couldn't get it through their thick skulls that seaQuest's upcoming sea trials were going to be run by the military, and no extraneous passengers would be allowed, even if their company had designed and installed several major pieces of equipment.
"Ma'am, I've received a report of a motor vehicle accident involving a member of your…crew. I tried to call the Weapons and Tactical Development Division, but they forwarded me to you," Hackney replied, looking down at a readout beyond the screen's pickup. "A Captain Bridger and an MA1 Riley have been taken to Pali Momi Medical Center by local paramedic units."
Katie felt her jaw drop open, all feelings of annoyance forgotten. "Taken to where?"
"To Pali Momi Medical Center," Hackney replied, still sounding blasé. "I have no further information at this time."
"You have no further information?" she repeated, trying not to spit fire at the unconcerned lieutenant. It's not his fault, Katie, she told herself, trying to ignore the sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It's not his fault.
"No, ma'am. I suggest you call the hospital."
"I'll—" she started hotly, and then forced herself to stop. "Thank you."
Katie cut the connection before she could say anything nastier, and, ignoring the waiting call, punched up the number for Pali Momi Medical Center with one hand while grabbing her PAL in the other. "EWO, XO, please come to my stateroom."
Thankfully, now that the boat's internal communications systems were up and running, Lucas was a lot easier to find. And he was a lot more prompt these days—in fact, Katie had hardly experienced a problem with him, despite what Tim had told her about Lucas' earlier deficiencies. The answer came almost immediately:
"On my way."
As she put the PAL down, the vidlink connected. "Pali Momi Medical Center, how may I direct your call?"
"I've just been notified that you have a Nathan Bridger as a patient. He was in a car accident earlier this morning," Katie said, plastering her 'nice' smile on while she silently berated herself. I should have asked what time. He was supposed to be in an hour ago, judging from what time he called me at and said he was leaving his meeting. "I'd like to know what his condition is, and what room number he is in so that I can send someone in to see him."
"I'm afraid that I can't reveal that information," the woman on the other end of the connection told her primly.
"Ma'am, Captain Bridger is an officer in the UEO Navy," she replied, trying to fight down a growing feeling of dread. "We need to know his location and his condition."
"Are you his commanding officer?"
Katie blinked. "No."
"Then I am afraid that I cannot give you any information." The woman moved to cut the connection, but Katie managed to get in first.
"Wait! He's my commanding officer. I am his Executive Officer, or second-in-command," she explained. "Captain Bridger is involved in an important project for the UEO, and I need to call his boss to give him an update. Please give me some information so that I can pass it along."
The woman scowled at her, but relented. "His condition is stable, and he is in the ER. That is all I can say. Good day."
The UEO logo flashed back up on the screen, but before Katie could really get her temper worked up, a knock came on her stateroom door. She forced in a deep breath: "Enter!"
"You wanted to see me, Commander?" Lucas asked, coming into the room.
"Sit down, Lucas," Katie said, her voice suddenly heavy. He's going to take this even worse than I did.
Lucas took a seat, looking worried. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No." She shook her head. "No, not you. I just—I just got a call from base security."
Usually, Katie didn't have a problem telling people what to do, but at the moment, she felt rather lost. How do I tell him this? Hell, Lucas might as well be listed as the captain's next of kin, and everyone on this boat knows that Lucas thinks of Bridger more as his dad than the lackwit who actually has that biological distinction. Katie forced the thoughts aside with an effort, swallowing hard to keep her own emotions in check.
"Base security?" he asked, sounding even more confused. Then comprehension seemed to dawn on his face. "Look, Commander, I can explain," he started to say.
Katie held up a hand, feeling normal for just a moment. "I don't want to know whatever it was you were doing."
"Then what's going on?"
"There was...an accident. A car accident," she clarified, forcing her voice to come out levelly. "The captain's in the hospital."
She watched the color drain out of his face. "What? When? What happened?"
"This morning. I don't know where or what...just that he's in the ER at Pali Momi Medical Center. I need to send someone from the crew over to find out...and I thought I'd send you."
He nodded, looking stunned.
She burned to go herself, of course, but if Bridger wasn't going to be there, Katie had to run the sea trials teleconference that started in less than thirty minutes, hammering out which contractors would be able to come and which ones would have to stay ashore. Besides which, she knew that Lucas wouldn't be able to get any work done in the meantime, so she might as well kill two birds with one stone.
"He's in stable condition," Katie added belatedly, wishing she'd remembered to say so sooner—maybe then Lucas would not look so sick to his stomach. "Are you okay to drive yourself?"
"I don't have a car," was his response, and he sounded so young. Not like the officer she had been watching him grow into—this was the sometimes-scared kid Katie remembered from their first tour.
She pulled the keys out of her desk drawer and handed them to him. "You can take mine. You know what it looks like?"
More than anything, she really just wanted to hug him, but XOs weren't supposed to hug their junior officers. She could, however, make a mental note to tell Ben, who would make sure to look out for Lucas if things got bad.
"The silver Mercedes, right?" he asked.
"Yeah. Try not to wreck it, will you?" she said, trying to make her voice sound light and failing.
He managed a weak grin in reply. "Yes, Mom."
"Don't forget to be home for dinner," Katie told him, going along with the joke. Then her voice turned serious. "Now get out of here, and call me when you know something."
Lucas nodded again before he left, and was out the door before Katie could blink.
He's stable, Lucas had to keep reminding himself. He'd been whispering it as a mantra all the way up the freeway and the entire time he had been fighting with a receptionist, until she had finally told him where the captain was.
He practically ran down the hallways of the hospital, earning a sharp warning from one of the nurses, but he barely slowed, tossing a short apology over his shoulder. Next, he almost collided with a man pushing a cart of cleaning supplies; Lucas danced aside and ignored the swearing. He had more important things to do. If the XO says he's stable, then he's stable, he told himself firmly, but the thought really didn't help.
401D. Skidding to a stop, Lucas read the room number again, just to be sure. 401D. Yes, this was the room Captain Bridger had been sent to after being cleared from the emergency room. He took a deep breath, swallowing hard, and entered the room.
The captain was dressed only in a flimsy hospital gown, a blanket pulled up around his waist. The bed was raised, and Lucas could make out bandages around his shoulder, peeking out at the neck. His left arm was in a sling, too, secured tightly against his chest. A machine beeped in the corner and an IV line ran into his arm. He was pale, and his eyes were closed, and for a long moment Lucas feared the worst.
That's a heart monitor, his mind helpfully kicked in. And you can see for yourself his pulse is almost normal, and he's obviously breathing. Stop acting like a baby.
"Captain?" he asked softly, not wanting to wake him up if he was asleep. Speaking was harder than he'd expected; his throat was suddenly bone-dry.
A moment passed before Bridger opened his eyes. "Hey, kiddo."
He swallowed hard, feeling weak as relief rushed through him. "What happened?"
"Nothing good." Bridger reached up to rub his hands over his face, then looked down with a mixture of annoyance and confusion when his left arm didn't move. The captain sighed. "Car accident," he finally said. "Got T-boned by...an SUV, I think."
"They told me Petty Officer Riley was in surgery, but they didn't know anything more than that," he said, pulling a chair over to sit next to the captain's bed.
"That's about as much as they've told me. I've been here a half an hour or so, and they've spent most of the time poking and prodding, not answering my questions."
There was something slightly guarded in the captain's expression, though, something Lucas could not quite pinpoint.
"What happened to your shoulder?"
"Umm..." Bridger trailed off, but was saved from answering when a nurse's angry voice grabbed Lucas' attention.
She was short, cute, and standing outside the captain's room with her hands on her hips. "You can't stay there."
At first, Lucas thought she might be talking to him, until he followed her gaze. Where did they come from? There were two uniformed Marines standing outside the door where no one had been just two minutes earlier. I didn't know Marines could be so quiet, was the first thought that came to the surface of Lucas' confused mind.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we were given orders by Admiral O'Malley. Until Captain Bridger can be transferred to a military facility, we are responsible for his security," one of the Marines replied politely. Lucas ignored the nurse's indignant response about how she was going to tell her superiors—knowing the Marines, it wouldn't do her much good
Bridger sighed, following the nurse tiredly with his eyes. But he only frowned instead of replying to Lucas' question.
Before Lucas could ask the captain again, a police officer entered the room. "Captain Bridger?" he asked.
"Last I checked."
"My name's Ken Watanabe, one of the nurses down in the ER told me where to find you. I just wanted to see how you were doing, and apologize for winging you with that bullet," the officer said.
Lucas felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. "Bullet?" he asked incredulously. "Why would you need to be shooting at anyone at a car accident?"
Bridger's face took on a look of exasperation that Lucas had not seen since he was sixteen. "Officer Watanabe, allow me to introduce you to Lieutenant Wolenczak, my Electronics Warfare Officer," he said, and then sighed again. "And there's no apology necessary. You were...just doing your job, even if my shoulder doesn't thank you for it."
Watanabe offered out a hand to Lucas. He had to remind himself to shake it. His mind was still stuck on bullet. Even though he could tell from the look on Bridger's face that he didn't want to talk about this subject, Lucas had to ask: "Captain, what really happened?"
"I will need an official statement from you, sir," Watanabe added.
The look the captain gave the officer was suddenly anything but friendly—had Lucas not known him so well, he might have thought he was just mildly annoyed, but he recognized the look in Bridger's eyes. He sighed again, and answered them both. "It wasn't just a car accident. Someone decided to tail me to work this morning, and Riley—my driver—tried to lose them. We thought we had, until they came out of nowhere and hit us."
Watanabe had flipped out a pad of paper, giving the captain an expectant look. "Any reason why someone would come after you like this? Enemies?"
Enemies? Try all of Macronesia, Lucas thought acidly. He was just glad he was already sitting down, and that he wasn't expected to answer right now—otherwise, he might have said something that they'd all regret. The police officer might not know why someone would go after the captain, but Lucas had a few good guesses.
"Nothing that comes to mind at the moment, no," Bridger evaded. Unfortunately, he did not do so very well—and it was obvious that the police officer did not believe him any more than Lucas did. Then again, Macronesia might have reasons not to like him, but why would they go after him? Clearly, Lucas was missing something.
Watanabe frowned deeply. "You understand that this could be considered hindering a police investigation, don't you, Captain?"
"Officer Watanabe, I'm really not trying to be difficult. Unfortunately, I am working on a highly classified project, so the number of answers I can give you is extremely limited," the captain replied.
"Classified project or not, those men were trying to kidnap you. And since they're both dead, you're going to have to start answering some questions so we can figure out who was behind this," Watanabe said.
Lucas felt his eyes go wide. Kidnap? He wasn't sure if that idea was more terrifying than the idea of someone trying to kill the captain.
Bridger scraped a hand over his face again. "Look, I can tell you that I'm the head of the UEO's Weapons and Tactical Development Division. Does that answer your question?"
Watanabe jotted the information down, but before he could ask another question, something crackled across his radio. Lucas couldn't understand it, but Watanabe obviously did. "Excuse me," he said, stepping out of the hospital room.
"Go ahead and ask, Lucas," Bridger said as soon as he was gone, clearly knowing that he was about to explode.
"Kidnapping?" he burst out. Maybe it wasn't the most elegant thing he could have asked, but it got his point across well enough.
Bridger shrugged, one-shouldered. "Beats me, Lucas. If it were war time, I'd call me a legitimate target. Since we're not officially at war...I don't know what to call it."
"Do you think someone knows about...?"
"I don't know. I hope not. Frankly, the other projects I've been involved in are probably enough to get Macronesia's attention, assuming they know what my...official job title is."
"But why kidnap you? Why not just..." He couldn't make himself say the words, and his stomach tightened just at the thought. The next words came out in a babble: "I mean, I'm glad that's what they were trying to do instead, because if they were trying to do the other thing..."
"I'd be dead, yeah."
Lucas swallowed hard. "Yeah. That."
"Sorry," the captain smiled wanly as he apologized. "I don't think having a concussion does much for my manners."
"A concussion and a gunshot wound. What else happened?" he asked, trying to force away the mental image of Captain Bridger lying lifeless on the ground.
"It's not much of a gunshot wound, Lucas. The concussion is from the accident—and so's most of the damage to my shoulder, I think. I've done worse falling off my motorcycle."
"Your motorcycle doesn't purposely try and hurt you, sir," Lucas replied.
The captain chuckled. "I'll grant you that one." But when Lucas gave him a look, he continued: "I'll be fine, Lucas. I'm a little banged up, but I'll be fine."
"You scared me," he admitted softly, suddenly feeling very young. "When Commander Hitchcock told me you'd been in an accident..."
Bridger reached out and squeezed his shoulder briefly. "Scared me, too, to be honest. But I'm all right."
Lucas didn't have a chance to embarrass himself further before Officer Watanabe came back into the room, looking rather displeased, but trying to cover it. "I've just been informed that your case will be handed over to NCIS."
I guess that makes sense. Lucas hadn't ever needed to deal with the Naval Criminal Investigative Services during his short time in the Navy, but he figured they would be the best people to deal with the top secret nature of the captain's current role. At least they probably have security clearances, he figured.
"Thank you for informing me," the captain said, wearing now what Lucas had long ago termed his 'professional' face. "And thank you for your excellent timing. You saved my life."
"Simply doing my job," Watanabe replied, his tone cool. He's definitely not happy.
"Thank you, anyway," Bridger said politely, but Lucas could tell that he meant it.
Watanabe nodded and left them alone again.
"I should probably go call the XO and tell her you're okay," Lucas said, after a moment of comfortable silence.
"Probably a good idea, yeah. Tell her I'll be at work tomorrow, assuming they let me out of here."
Lucas nodded, leaving the captain to rest while he found a private area to make his call.
Setting up a secure vidlink in the middle of a civilian hospital turned out to be a lot harder than Nathan thought it would be, even if the process did pale in comparison with the effort it took to pry his mini-comp out of the hands of the police department. Eventually, Nathan had been forced to enlist two NCIS agents, who had both reacquired the mini-comp (half-destroyed though it was; Nathan would have to give it to Lucas to have even half a chance of getting the data off of it) and set up a secure line for him.
From what Katie had said in their brief phone conversation following Lucas' departure, Admiral Noyce had called the boat no less than four times since Katie had notified him, so Nathan figured that he should give his friend a call.
Besides, Bill was officially his direct superior, so he probably ought to call him on that count, too. I may break rules from time to time, but this is one time I'll be happy to call my boss, Nathan thought tiredly. And at least seaQuest's unique condition meant he wasn't working for some squadron commander who had been in the Navy ten years less than he had—hell, he'd taught a few of them at the Academy, oh so many years ago. He couldn't really imagine having this conversation with anyone other than a friend.
Bill must have been sitting on the phone, though, because he picked up almost as soon as Nathan finished dialing.
"What the hell happened, Nathan?" Bill asked, not even bothering to say hello.
"Hi to you, too, Bill."
He knew he looked like hell, with his arm still in a sling and a bandage around his head (why that was there, Nathan wasn't sure; the bleeding had been minor, and had already stopped), but it was nice to talk to someone who he didn't have to be strong for. Bill wasn't Lucas, and Nathan didn't feel obligated to look all upbeat and positive for his friend. Or for his boss.
Fortunately for the way his head ached at the moment, those two were the same person. Nathan didn't think he could take more than one conversation at the moment.
"Yes, hello. And I'm glad to see you're alive. What happened?" the admiral demanded brusquely.
"Apparently someone wanted to kidnap me. I think we can both guess who. And why." Keeping his sentence short seemed to keep his head from pounding so much. "Riley—my driver—was shot. He came out of surgery a little while ago, but they don't think he's going to make it. I got winged by the cop who shot the guy grabbing me."
Bill sighed, his eyes full of concern. "O'Malley said he already has Marines in places. Damn it, Nathan."
"You're telling me, Bill. I'm the one sitting here in a hospital bed." Now he could finally let his frustration out a bit. "I have no idea what they were looking for, and I doubt we'll find out. The police killed both of them."
"I'd rather have them dead than you," Bill replied.
"Me, too. Obviously." Nathan leaned back against the pillows and winced slightly. They'd given him some fairly strong painkillers, but apparently it wasn't enough to make his bruised ribs stop complaining.
Bill was frowning at him. This can't be good. "I'm going to have to tell Secretary McGath."
"What? I'm just a captain, Bill." Of course, even as he made the argument, he knew it would fly about as well as a lead balloon, but Nathan had to try.
"You're not just a captain, and we both know it. You'll be lucky if you're allowed off that boat of yours anymore."
"Thanks a lot, Bill. That really makes my day." Maybe he shouldn't have let his tone be quite so sharp, but Nathan felt like crap, and really didn't feel like arguing.
"I'd apologize, Nathan, but I'm inclined to agree. You're too close to being ready to take stupid risks," Bill stressed.
"I wasn't taking stupid risks, Bill. I went out to breakfast to discuss work," he snapped.
"You can get breakfast on base," his old friend replied peevishly.
He glared. "Tell that to Lexy Smith. Besides, how the hell was I supposed to know that Macronesia would decide to kidnap me?" Nathan continued angrily. "If there's been any security warnings about something like this, no one let me in on the secret."
Bill scowled. "Calm down before you give yourself an aneurism."
"More like you'll give me one."
"Don't be dramatic, Nathan. But you do need to be more careful," he warned. Again.
"I think I got the memo on that one, Bill," he groused, glaring at the nurse when she came in to swap out his IV. Fortunately, she just went about her business and ignored him. Smart girl. In the meanwhile, of course, the admiral just kept shooting him a look that told Nathan he deserved every bit of misery he was getting—and that Noyce would help the hospital keep him under wraps for as long as they wanted to. Finally, she left, and Nathan sighed. "Do you think anything leaked on the project, Bill, or is this just some screwed up coincidence?"
"We have to assume it isn't a coincidence," Bill said, sounding tired.
"Yeah, I know." Whatever IV she'd changed, it wasn't his painkillers, because his head was really starting to pound. At least I'm not seeing double, anymore, Nathan told himself. That had to be an improvement.
Bill started looking worried as Nathan shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position. "How are you feeling, anyway?"
"Like shit," Nathan replied bluntly. Definitely not how I'd phrase it for Lucas. "But I'll live."
"Good. I'd hate to have to find a replacement for you."
"Ah, that's big of you. Thanks."
"I've spent thirty years training you up, Nathan," Bill teased, though his expression was still concerned.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't pat yourself on the back too hard. You might break your arm." But he smiled despite the pain in his head. Sometimes, it was nice not to be 'the captain', and just talk to a friend.
"You should get some rest. I'll call you later."
"You can call me back after you've figured out a way to get me out of this place. I'm going to go crazy if those NCIS guys come back again, Bill—they're not cleared for my projects, and they know it, yet they keep asking," he replied peevishly. "And I've got work to do."
"Take today to rest, Nathan. Your crew can handle things for one day," the admiral said, but before Bridger could argue, he added: "And I'll talk to someone about getting you released into Kristin's care, if that will shut you up."
"It might." The thought made Nathan chuckle, though. "A little."
Bill just rolled his eyes. "I'll talk to you later."
"Right," he replied, and cut the connection. There were only about a thousand things he could be doing at the moment, but with his mini-comp destroyed, Nathan really couldn't do much. Most of what he did need to do was on the boat, anyway, and though he knew Katie would handle things just fine in his absence, staying still drove him crazy—no matter how crappy he felt. However, at least the nurse had told him earlier that he was okay to get some sleep now—apparently that wasn't something you were supposed to do right after getting a concussion—so Nathan finally decided to give into the urge and get some shut-eye.
11 January 2024
President Bourne was furious, but at the moment, General Stassi would much rather be dealing with him. The captain had very nearly attacked Stassi when they had gotten word the plan had failed, although the other had managed to stop before doing something so monumentally stupid. Only the president's timely call had saved him from further argument, which Stassi did not want to endure, because no matter what the captain's official rank was, the other officer did command the entire Macronesian submarine fleet…for the moment.
"Would you care to explain why this 'fool proof' plan of yours failed, General?" President Bourne asked acidly.
Stassi could not remember the last time he had seen Bourne so angry—usually, the president was a collected individual who took even the greatest setbacks in stride, willing to wait until the next opportunity presented itself. He contemplated hedging, and even trying to shift blame onto someone else…but no. Doing so would only lessen himself in Bourne's eyes.
"Bridger's driver caught sight of his tails. My men managed to kill him," Stassi replied honestly.
"We don't care about his driver, General," the captain snarled.
"Hush. You'll have your chance to speak, Captain," the president chastised. He sounded rather like an irate schoolmaster chiding two unruly students, not the president of one of the most powerful confederations in the world berating his two top military officials.
I still don't know why the president keeps a psychopath like this around, he thought to himself, glaring at the naval officer.
"They will have increased security by now," President Bourne continued mournfully. "I suggest the two of you find some other way to get the information we need. Bridger is no longer an option."
"There are plenty of others who will be far less guarded. Bridger didn't develop the bio-skin technology on his own," the general replied. "With your permission, sir, I can send my men to bring one of them back to our facilities."
The president surveyed him critically. "I am not in the habit of granting second chances, General. I am granting you leniency this time only because the captain's scientists have failed in every attempt to duplicate the production process. But know this—if you fail me again, I will find someone to replace you. Someone who will succeed."
Stassi had to swallow hard before he could reply, ignoring the smirk on the captain's face. "Yes, sir."
"All right, ladies and gentlemen, we've got eight days left before sea trials, and right now, it looks like we're going to get underway on schedule," the captain said to kick off the meeting, and all of seaQuest's officers exchanged smiles. Truth be told, they hadn't been sure they'd make it—and there had been times that Tim had been quite positive that they wouldn't. The number of gargantuan tasks they had completed since launching was mind-boggling, and he was still surprised by the fact that they'd somehow gotten ahead of schedule.
Tim snuck a glance at the Captain. Bridger had missed work the day before and was back today, probably against doctor's orders. The incident had shaken the entire crew, but the captain looked okay, if one discounted the bruises on his forehead and the fact that his left arm was in a sling. Judging from what Brad had said earlier, though, the sling hadn't kept Bridger from crawling into a few bilges down in Auxiliary Machinery Room 1, which meant that life was pretty much back to normal, despite the scare.
"I won't bore you with the schedule," the captain continued, nodding towards Katie. "The XO can do that later. For now, though, I'd like to give you an update on exactly what we'll be doing:
"First, the UEO has decided to send a team of ten Navy inspectors out with us. Their job will be to evaluate the boat like an old-style INSURV team and determine if she is ready to be accepted for service in the Navy. They won't be evaluating us, or our performance, since none of them are qualified to operate seaQuest. That's our business.
"Furthermore, we'll be bringing one hundred and four contractors of various flavors with us, mostly to operate and/or test equipment, but also to do repairs if and when we break something. I don't want the crew to be caught up in doing tests for the inspectors—our job is to operate the boat, and to learn how to fix her when she breaks. Our main goal for trials is to get to know our boat, because we can't count on having a lot of opportunities to test her out after commissioning…especially if tensions with Macronesia continue to worsen."
Hearing those words made Tim swallow; he hadn't been in the Navy when World War III ended, but from the way Macronesia was acting, the Pacific Alliance really wanted to ignite World War IV. He'd seen combat during his tours on the first seaQuest, first with Captain Stark and then with Captain Bridger, but he'd never relished it. Tim had even been in a few battles on board Valiant, the sub he'd been assigned to before Bridger snatched him back, so he was hardly out of the loop…but that wasn't the same as looking forward to jumping off the deep end.
Intellectually, he had known that he would eventually be in the thick of things with this seaQuest, but somehow the facts just hadn't sunk in until now.
"I won't lie to you," Bridger said quietly, meeting each set of eyes in turn. "Our job is to get out there before things get too bad, and I hope that seaQuest's presence can inject some sanity into this situation before it goes haywire." The captain paused, and Tim thought he looked sad.
"But I think it might be too late for that."
A/N: Wow, it's been awhile! We apologize for the delay—real life got a hold of both of us in a big way, along with a new project we more or less stumbled into. That said, stay tuned for Chapter 14: "Shift Colors", in which seaQuest gets underway for the first time ever, Miguel names the fourth WSKR, and a familiar face from Season 1 shows up. (Remember Captain Clayton?).
Oh, and major cookies for anyone who gets the reference that the chapter title is. It's Navy, not pop culture or any TV show, so you probably won't find it in the normal seaQuest fandom.