Chapter 3
Admiral Harriman Nelson, world-renowned scientist and inventor, pored over the papers on his desk. The reputation of the Institute was at stake. One mistake could be disastrous. He reread the list and with a decisive stroke of his pencil, changed the speedier Patterson from left field to center, allowing Sparks to man that now vacant position.
Satisfied with the lineup, the admiral picked up his baseball cap and made his way to the field. With Lee out of town, he was taking his place as manager this year. Nelson had joked that one could hear Will's sigh of relief all the way from the med center. In fact, the doctor had a batting helmet printed with MANAGER on it intending to present it to Lee before the game. He planned to insist Crane wear it, just in case a foul ball made its way into the dugout. Lee was a trouble magnet no matter where he was. With his trip to Germany to see his friend, there would be no way that Lee could run into trouble at the game.
The organizer had arranged to use the high school ball field. Angie claimed she had ordered the 80° sunny weather, saying it was her job as head cheerleader. Nelson had been looking forward to the annual charity ballgame. Although his taste usually ran to more gourmet offerings, on this warm summer afternoon he could almost taste the spicy hot dogs on his lips, to be washed down with an ice-cold beer.
There was already a crowd watching the players warm up, with friends and family taking pictures and videos of their loved ones. One man in particular was shooting numerous players with a camcorder and taking digital pictures. When the camera was pointed towards him, Harry self-consciously removed his hat, not wanting to be pictured in what he felt was an undignified manner.
The umpire called both managers to home plate for the starting lineups. Nelson's team had drawn the Santa Barbara policemen's team and after shaking hands with the police lieutenant, the game was on. Throwing out the first pitch was a special guest, Admiral Jiggs Starke. Nelson laughed, he was sure this would be one part of the game Lee wouldn't mind missing.
The first team trounced their opponents 13 to 0, due to O'Brien's superb pitching. The other Seaview team managed by Chief Sharkey squeaked by the fire department 2 to 1, setting up a match between Nelson and Sharkey. After enjoying a picnic lunch, the two teams played for the championship. There was a bit of a dustup when Riley brushed back Kowalski, who had homered the last time up. When order was restored, Nelson team continued with the hot bats, outscoring Sharkey's players 9 to 4.
Admiral Nelson went searching for Jiggs whom he had seen walking away from the cheering mob with his cell phone pressed to his ear. That man was as bad as Lee, couldn't even enjoy a couple days of R&R without contacting his office. They had already gotten into a heated argument over an officer who had served under both of them and was now facing dismissal from his command. He was of the opinion that Admiral Bernardi should never have been given the job.
Grabbing two cold beers, Harry made his way over to Starke, reaching him just as Jiggs disconnected his call.
"Jiggs, put that blasted phone away and behave yourself, you're on leave. Here, drink while it's still cold." Harry really had enjoyed himself today and was determined his friend was going to do the same.
"Let's go someplace a little quieter, Harry. I need to talk to you."
Nelson could tell from Starke's face that this was going to be bad news. They found a shady spot away from the celebration. Harry leaned against a tree, finishing off the beer, not really tasting it as it went down. He steeled himself, dreading what was to come.
"That was Admiral Johnson on the phone. It seems Crane never made it to the consulate to drop off a package from Professor von Kempner. No one has seen him since he left the professor's house."
The minute he heard Johnson's name, Nelson's stomach clenched in fear. He slammed the empty bottle to the grass, letting out a string of swear words that impressed even an old salt like Starke.
"I knew it, I just knew it. A 'simple social visit to an old friend', my ass! What was he really involved in, and why didn't Johnson call me direct?"
"Calm down, Harry. Bill swore Crane shouldn't have been in any danger. No one believed the professor had something anyone wanted to steal. An ONI agent is being recalled from the Czech Republic to investigate. As for not calling you, from past experience he knew you would take off his head."
"I don't believe Bill Johnson is so worried about Lee that he's bringing in someone to look for him, that's not his normal modus operandi. Something's up, so spill it, Jiggs." He hated being so far away and needing to rely on the ONI to help Lee.
"Look Harry, Johnson's just-" Jiggs stopped talking after looking at Nelson's face. "All right, the truth is the agent's orders aren't to find Crane, but to discover if there are any covert operations starting up in Germany. They think Lee might have stumbled across something and got into trouble."
It had been a while since he was this angry. "That sounds like Johnson, hanging Lee out to dry. Well, it's not going to happen. Seaview will be ready to sail by morning. When was Lee last heard from? I'll start there, and tear apart the entire country if I have to. Damn, what a time for Morton to be TAD to Pearl!"
"Don't worry about your XO, I'll contact Pearl and get him here. You concern yourself about getting ready to shove off. I don't like that boy's command style or your close relationship with him, but I don't want to see him hurt any more than you do. One good thing, I know the man who's going to Germany, he's a friend of your captain. My bet, he'll be looking as hard for Lee as he would any enemy agents."
Nelson tightened his fists. Impatient for answers, he wanted to take his anger out on someone. "How long has Lee been missing? Could his car just have broken down or been in an accident? Where was he going after leaving von Kempner? Well, answer me!"
"Take a breath Harry, and give me a chance. Crane was going to Frankfurt. ONI contacted hospitals and the police, nothing."
Nelson was breathing fire, and didn't care if his longtime friend was singed. "Exactly when did Lee disappear? Tell me Johnson has the police looking for a 'lost tourist!'"
"From what the professor said, it's been over 24 hours since he put Crane into the taxi in front of his house. And yes, the local police have started a search for him. No cab companies have reported any missing drivers."
Admiral Nelson quickly made a list in his head in order of importance. "I'll be the one calling Morton to break the news, not you. If you want to help, find O'Brien and have him meet me in my office. But first, tell him to have Sharkey quietly round up the men and report to Seaview as soon as possible, ready to ship out."
Nelson hurried to his car without giving Jiggs a chance to answer. Jiggs might not like being ordered about, but that didn't matter in the least now.
How many more times were they going to come to Lee's rescue? Would this time be the one where they would be too late? It had been less than a year ago since he'd revealed his involvement as a young Lee Crane's guardian and mentor. They'd worked hard to keep their relationship from interfering with their command structure. Times like this strained that resolve. The man he considered his son was missing and Harry would move heaven and earth to find him.
At the nearly deserted Institute, the duty secretary was surprised to see Admiral Nelson back. She grabbed her pad and followed him into the office, rapidly taking down orders. Returning to her desk, she placed the call to Hawaii and got Chip Morton on the line, before carrying out the rest of her instructions.
"Mr. Morton I need you to return ASAP. Crane is in trouble again, missing in Germany."
Hearing the news, Chip couldn't help a quick intake of breath, followed by a long and exasperated sigh, one that held a lifetime of emotions. "Can you tell me what happened, Admiral? All the skipper told me was he was taking a couple days leave to visit a friend."
"ONI sent him to Germany." The admiral quickly filled in the XO with the rest of the story, finishing with the fact of Lee's disappearance.
"Sir, may I suggest you send Kowalski to pick me up with the flying sub. The two of us can proceed to Germany. If you contact Admiral Johnson and let him know we're coming, he might be able to arrange a meeting with his agent. Ski and I could start our search right away. It will take Seaview seven to eight days to arrive; the trail will be cold by then."
"Very well, Mr. Morton, excellent idea. I'm also sending Patterson. Get packed, I'll contact you with the ETA. And Chip, I know you'll find him."
"Yes, sir, you can be sure of that, but in what shape?"
Nelson recognized the strain in Chip's voice. Both men needed to keep things on a professional level. First things first, get the rescue operation in motion, and then their personal concerns could be addressed. Nelson was sure Chip was as worried as he was, but both men's training was so ingrained, it enabled them to outwardly ignore anything else.
O'Brien came in and was given his orders. The next several hours were filled with a flurry of activity, and numerous pots of coffee being drunk. By early morning, all was in readiness.
Nelson and Lieutenant O'Brien were waiting by the charting table as Sharkey came into the control room. "Crew's all accounted for, sirs. Admiral Nelson, Mr. O'Brien, we're ready to shove off."
O'Brien started to say something then stopped.
There was a look in his eye that Nelson recognized immediately. "You're in command, Mr. O'Brien. Go ahead."
"Thank you, Admiral." He turned to Chief Sharkey and gestured upwards. "I'm taking her out Chief. Make all preparations to get underway and I'll see you on the Bridge. We've got work to do."
"Aye aye, sir."
Seaview slipped silently from her moorings, each man alert at his station, knowing any mistake on his part could delay their voyage, and possibly cost the skipper his life.
Chip was anxiously waiting for the flying sub's arrival at Pearl Harbor. He had asked for and received permission to meet the craft at the old airstrip on Ford Island. Waiting with him was a young petty officer who was in charge of a large cooler filled with sandwiches. Sitting alongside were a couple of thermoses. According to the petty officer, Admiral Starke had made his wishes known to the base CO that the men from Seaview were to get priority treatment, anything they needed they got.
After the initial phone call from Nelson, he'd gone off on a tirade. It seemed impossible that Lee would accept another assignment so soon after returning to full duty. After cooling down, Chip accepted the fact he too would have done the same, considering the relationship between the professor and Lee.
Chip had spoken to Admiral Nelson an hour ago. There was still no news. He knew it was irrational to think there'd be any new developments in the past 60 minutes, but as the saying went, hope springs eternal.
A high-pitched whine filled the skies, and FS 1 emerged from the clouds. As Chip watched Kowalski expertly land the craft, he picked up his one bag and hurried towards them. Patterson stowed the luggage, while Ski moved over to the copilot seat. Chip thanked the young rating as he handed over the cooler and the drinks while Ski entered the new coordinates into the computer. Fifteen minutes later, they were airborne, heading towards Germany.
Once the ship reached the correct altitude, Chip set the autopilot, allowing him to speak with both men without distractions.
"Sorry, Mr. Morton. I was in radio contact with the Institute right before we landed. No news. Admiral Nelson has arranged for an update every two hours. If you wish to speak to him, they'll patch the call through to the admiral."
"Thanks, Ski. Maybe we'll get news to return to Santa Barbara, that the skipper's been found unharmed."
"I sure hope so, sir. Ski and I were thinking maybe the captain changed his mind about the cab. Had the driver drop him off at a rental place, thinking he could do some sightseeing after his meeting. Skipper could've had car trouble; Admiral Nelson said the police were asking about taxis. That's why they didn't find out anything, they didn't check out car rentals. We should do that when we land."
Looking at the eager expressions on their faces, he hated to burst their bubble. Chip could see both Pat and Ski were trying to find a reason why their captain hadn't been heard from, however outlandish their ideas were. He knew the two of them were hoping for a happy outcome from this trip. Hell, he had dreamed up some wacky scenarios himself, including one about meeting a ravishing beauty who swept Lee off his feet. However, Chip knew none of the ideas was reasonable.
"I wish I could believe that, Patterson. Unfortunately, it's been over 24 hours. Captain Crane would have been able to get messages to von Kempner or the consulate by now. Unless there was an accident and he is lying somewhere severely injured."
Pat's face fell at this unhappy news, and Ski looked like he'd received a punch in the stomach. Morton knew it was up to him to present a positive attitude so he went into his XO mode.
"There's no reason to give up hope. You know the skipper has been in some pretty ugly situations and gotten out of them. Hell, now that we're here, the bad guys won't stand a chance." He continued giving the pep talk, for himself as much as the other men. "Once we land, I'll speak to Professor von Kempner and follow up any leads he has. I wouldn't be surprised we don't find the skipper in the next 48 hours. I won't tolerate any other outcome. Do I make myself clear, gentlemen? We will find Captain Crane." Chip softened his command face and spoke in a gentler tone. "We've worked hard breaking in this captain and I have no intention of training another. And the next time our illustrious captain leaves the boat, he'll be tagged with a GPS device."
"Yes, sir! Excellent idea, Mr. Morton."
Chip realized he had to put on a confident face for Kowalski and Patterson, but he recognized the fact Lee Crane could already be dead. With that unsettling thought, Chip returned to the controls, turning off the autopilot. He needed to be doing something physical, not just thinking about what could have happened.
Every two hours the calls came, always the same news, no new development, no sign of Captain Crane. Admiral Nelson radioed when Seaview left port and spoke to Chip.
"We'll continue to our updates until you land at Spangdahlem. Then it'll be up to you to contact us. We'll be running submerged, so contact Angie and she can relay any messages."
"Aye, aye, sir. I plan to speak to Professor von Kempner first thing. I'll let you know what I discover."
"You're meeting an agent by the name of Gordon. He'll be there at 0800 your time day after tomorrow in your hotel room. Admiral Johnson is sending you a photograph, and Gordon will have one of you. We don't want any surprises. And remember, no uniforms. We don't know who's involved in this."
"Very well, Admiral, I'll contact you afterwards. I won't let you down, sir."
"Of that I can be very sure, Mr. Morton. Seaview out."
SPANGDAHLEM AFB, GERMANY
Admiral Starke had arranged with base security to guard the flying sub while Morton, Kowalski and Patterson searched for Crane. He even made sure they had an inconspicuous German car, a VW Jetta, to move around in. Pat drove the three the short distance to Bitburg and von Kempner's house.
Helga Mueller, the housekeeper, met them at the door. Her face was pale and drawn in the early evening light. She was a little on the plump side from sampling her own baked goods. She could be stern faced and sharp tongued when dealing with the butcher who sold a tough piece of meat, then turn to a kindly grandmother giving cookies to the neighborhood children. Today her blue eyes, usually filled with laughter, held a sense of sadness. The black dress she wore contrasted sharply with the grey-white braided twist of hair on top of her head.
"Bitte, kommen Sie Herren herein, the doctor has just left. Herr Professor had a very bad night, it won't be long now." She dropped her hand onto Chip's arm. "We have heard about Herr Crane. It is a terrible thing. I believe Herr Professor feels that it is his fault. It has hastened the end, I have no doubt."
"I'm sorry, Frau Mueller. I'll try to be as quick as possible," Chip promised as he was shown into the bedroom.
Von Kempner was propped up in bed with pillows behind his head, the pallor of a dying man about him. He looked at Chip with his pain-filled eyes. "I knew it would be you, young man. Nothing has changed between the two of you over the years."
"No, sir, it hasn't. I don't want to tire you, but can you tell me about Lee's visit? Anything he might have said or did that seemed unusual."
"Helga, you may leave. See to our other guests."
The woman fussed over von Kempner's blankets then reluctantly left, giving Chip a warning look.
"My apologies, she's like a mother hen, worries about me too much." He paused for a moment, gathering his strength. "Our friend tried to act quite normally, but I knew he didn't believe me. Some days I don't believe myself." The professor's breathing was becoming more labored, but he pushed on. "I gave Lee my papers … he promised … deliver them right away. I convinced… him to leave... take a taxi... I watched him at the door... they drove towards Frankfurt… stood watching them disappear."
Chip hated to do it, but he realized he was running out of time. He wouldn't have another chance. "Why? Did you suspect someone was following them? Did you notice something suspicious?"
"Nein, nein… sentimental old man." von Kempner's voice was very weak. "I wanted to keep him… in my sight… as long as possible… last look… at Mein Freund." He grabbed Chip's hand. "I've held on until, until…" The dying man's voice failed for a moment. Then with a spike of energy, he managed to continue. "I passed on my message, he has to understand, he has to."
The professor closed his eyes, exhausted, able only to draw shallow breaths. His hands dropped to his side, his energy spent.
"What message, Professor von Kempner?"
Drawing on his last reserves, the professor spoke in a rambling manner, seemingly unable to focus on anything. "Asked so many questions at lecture… put him in danger… liked Mein wein best… promised… someone listening… so proud of Seaview's crew… keep book safe… Frau Mueller sending Der Wein… what have I done… must keep searching… surprise what you'll find… hidden… greatest discovery…" He locked his eyes onto Chip. "Save Dein Bruder… mein schuld. He... must understand... what I told him... er muss verstehem."
"I'm sure he does, professor, it's not your fault. Rest and don't worry. I'll find him." Chip pulled up the quilt, and then silently walked towards the door, dejected. The old professor had given him the beginnings of a grim idea. Had Lee realized that a message had been passed on to him? Had von Kempner been clear enough? Was Lee in danger because of something he didn't them know?
"BITAH, BITAH 992."The voice from the bed was loud and firm.
Chip quickly returned to the bed to ask for an explanation, but he would never get it.
"Your work is over now, but mine has just begun. I'll find him; I promise you Herr Professor, I'll find Lee."
He walked to the door and opened it, and gestured to Helga and the others to come into the room. The old housekeeper walked over to the bed, tears streaming down her face.
"Helga, I know this is a bad time, but does the word Bitah sound familiar? What about the numbers 992, do they mean anything to you?"
She looked confused. "Bitah… nein, Herr Morton, it means nothing, could he have said bitte? Perhaps he was asking you to please call a telephone number. Or he meant the beginning of an address. I do not know. Please excuse me, I must call the doctor."
It was a subdued group of men who checked into the hotel. Chip, while not as close to Professor von Kempner as Lee, mourned the passing of a brilliant man. Lee had lost someone he loved as family, something he had so little of.
Dammit Lee, where are you?
Dropping off their bags, Patterson and Kowalski came in from the connecting room.
"What's our next move, sir?"
"Agent Gordon is supposed to meet me at 0800 to let me know what he's discovered, so nothing we can do until that happens. After flying over 15 hours we need food and sleep. The restaurant downstairs didn't look crowded, let's eat there and talk."
They were seated in a corner booth that afforded them some privacy. The pretty blonde waitress brought a pitcher of beer and took their orders while expertly rebuffing Ski's mild flirting.
"Mr. Morton, what do you think those numbers meant. Some sort of code, maybe?"
Chip had told both of the men of the professor's last words. "They have to be something important, Ski. It was said with his dying breath."
Chip had been replaying the conversation with von Kempner over and over in his head, feeling he was missing something said earlier. The waitress returned with the food and then hurried away to take care of another table. They ate in silence for several minutes with Chip shaking his head a couple times. The clue to what the professor said had to be in their conversation, but he felt it was just out of reach.
Patterson refilled his glass, and after setting the pitcher back on the table, he spoke. "Sir, why don't you tell us everything that was said. Maybe the three of us can figure out the meaning."
"His accent was becoming stronger, and I was having a hard time understanding him. He was slipping back and forth to German more and more. He convinced the skipper to call a cab, stood at the doorway watching them drive away, but didn't see anyone suspicious or following them. He was pleading that the captain would understand his message. When I try to press him, he became somewhat incoherent, almost replaying the entire afternoon. He cried out Bitah and 992. Then he was gone."
"Sir, could he have said, bitte?"
"That doesn't make any sense either. Unless, as Frau Mueller suggested, von Kempner was asking me to please make a call and started to give a phone number or address." Imitating his friend's gesture when frustrated, Chip ran his hand through his short hair then sighed. "This isn't getting us anywhere. I wish my German was better, I must have misunderstood something."
Chip pushed away his half-finished dinner, suddenly no longer hungry. He was letting Lee down. Why couldn't he figure out what the professor meant? Thinking some sleep would clear his mind, he decided to leave a wakeup call for 0500 at the front desk. The front desk! Why hadn't he thought about that before?
"Sign for the check, charge it to my room. I have to speak to the night clerk." He tossed over some money to cover the tip and hurried to the front desk.
"Excuse me. I was to meet my friend Lee Crane here. Could you tell me what room he's in? He would have checked in three days ago."
A sleeping bushy bearded middle-aged man working behind the counter struggled to his feet, putting on a pompous air to cover his being caught napping on the job.
"Nein, it is verboten to give out guest room numbers."
"Can you call his room and tell him I'm here? That can't be against the rules."
The clerk harrumphed and made a production of looking up Lee's room number. "Kane, no one by the name of Kane is registered here."
"Nein, nein, Crane .C-R-A-N-E, Lee Crane."
Once again, the man looked at the computer, finally coming across Lee's name.
"Herr Crane checked out two days ago." He turned away, ready to resume his seat.
"Bitte, were you working the night he checked out?" Von Kempner had said it was close to 6 PM when Lee left the house. Chip was taking a chance the same person was working that night.
"I can't remember every guest. I'm very busy most nights."
Chip could read the signs and pulled out his wallet. He held up a $20 bill to the clerk who quickly snatched it, shoveling it into his pocket.
"Ja, I checked him out. I remember because it was unusual. A friend came in to get his bags, said Herr Crane had a family emergency and left. He would send the luggage on after him."
"You just let him into the room?" Chip asked in an incredulous voice.
"Nein, he had the card key. We just billed the room to the credit card. Herr Crane's friend tipped generously for the inconvenience."
Chip's heart sank. What little hope of a breakdown or car accident was now dashed. Someone had wanted to make it look like Lee left under his own power.
"Can you describe this friend?"
"I was very busy."
Chip already had pulled out another twenty, and waved it under the greedy man's large nose.
"Ja, I was busy, but I seem to recall this man was perhaps 50, short dark hair with some gray in it."
"How tall, color of eyes? Anything that would stand out about him?"
"Couple inches shorter than you. Heavy - had 20-25 kilograms on you."
"Anything else? It's important."
The man simply shook his head.
"Has anyone else asked about Herr Crane?"
"Nein, I have not worked since then." He tried to stifle a yawn, losing interest now that no more money was offered. Then he had a change of heart, perhaps thinking of further tips. He offered the fact that Peter, the person who worked the last two nights, would be in the next morning.
"Danka schön! Could you please arrange a wakeup call for 5AM for room 312?"
Chip watched as the clerk filled out the slip, and then wearily returned to his room. He would question Peter and the local police, after he spoke with the ONI agent. Chip called the Institute to report what he had discovered along with the sad news of Professor von Kempner's death. In the morning he would pay a visit to the police station and also see what ground Agent Gordon had covered. Afterwards he would return to Spangdahlem AFB where he could radio Admiral Nelson from the flying sub.