Chapter 4

As Lee had predicted, he was thrown into a cell, sprawling on the floor for some time recovering. Finally managing to get the pain somewhat under control he took stock of his surroundings. The room was quite large, the walls at least 12 feet high with only one small opening near the ceiling. He could tell that a heavy mesh was cemented over the window to stop the creepy crawling creatures from coming in. He was grateful for the slim amount of light the opening allowed but also happy it was now summer and there would be no freezing during the colder months. There was nothing more in the cell other than a thin straw filled mattress with a ratty blanket and a bucket in the corner for his needs.

What did the mad man have in store for him this time? He knew it would be worse than before, Decker had a score to settle, make that two scores. Lee had bested him twice; he doubted Decker would allow for a third. The man was pure evil and looked it. Cold and dispassionate, his hooded dark eyes never allowed anyone to know what he was thinking. He was so stiff in his mannerisms as to resemble a mannequin - but one from which the fire of cruelty emanated.

He lay down and pulled the inadequate covering over him. It would be best to rest and conserve his strength for what was coming next. Decker was a master at torture. Lee shuddered, recalling his first encounter. It wasn't only the pain, though that was bad enough, but dealing with the mind games. Lee remembered spending days working on what he thought was an overlooked rotting window lock in his cell. It finally broke away and just as he was ready to make his escape, the guards showed up laughing. Decker wanted him to try to get away and fail. That was just one of his tricks - to raise hope only to dash it. The solid walls of his prison would allowed no sound to escape, leaving his torturer free to torment his prisoner without fear of interference. Lee hoped he had the courage to withstand what was coming; he had to. Failure could mean death to those on Seaview. He could not, would not, be responsible for that.

He needed his sleep to help survive Decker's interrogation. Slowly his eyes grew heavy.

After spending more than a day in solitary with no food or water two armed guards came for him, and dragged him down the corridor to another room. Once there, he was stripped to the waist, chained hands and feet to the wall and was again left alone. Lee's arms were stretched high above his head, tautly pulling at his shoulder joint. His back was painfully being jabbed by the roughly cut stones. This position must be taught in Torture 101, Lee mused, considering how many times he had been in a similar situation. The sudden stabbing pain radiating from his bruised and battered ribs attested to the appeal of the position.

Looking to his left, Lee immediately knew the room had been modernized. The sturdy chair with straps hanging from the arms and legs, in addition to some type of apparatus at the head, brought chills to Lee's body. The wires from the chair led to a computer. It looked like Decker was taking the interrogation up a notch or two. A metal rolling table held a cloth covered tray, drugs or some other instrument of torture, Lee surmised.

The right side wall exhibited numerous whips in assorted styles and sizes, along with many other medieval torture devices. Some Lee recognized; others he didn't even want to imagine what pain they were capable of inflicting. Decker was playing a masterful game of psychological warfare.

Positioned right in front of Lee was a padded leather chair and end table, a set up one would find by the fireplace in a cozy den. All ready for Decker's enjoyment, if Lee was not mistaken. His parched mouth became even dryer at the thought of the coming days. Lee would have to hold out until Seaview showed up and his friends could find him. If they found him, he didn't even know where he was. Somewhere between Bitburg and Frankfurt, if his mental calculations were correct; but the car had made so many turns, he wasn't confident by the end of the trip what direction they had traveled.

The heavy door creaked open as Lee's adversary swaggered forward, stopping well within Lee's personal space. Decker took a big sip from the frosty glass in his hand, appearing to relish the cold liquid as it went down his throat. The sadistic smile Lee had learned to hate appeared on the man's face.

"Did you enjoy your time out, my friend? I always find my subjects greatly benefit from the solitude. It gives them a chance to reflect on their transgressions."

Lee didn't even bother to answer, not wanting to give Decker the satisfaction of hearing his croaking voice. He returned his gaze to his focal point on the wall, mustering his strength for what was to come.

"Now, now, Lee, it's not nice to be so antisocial. I'm trying to help you. I need you to tell me the code. I have to admit, the manuscript is very interesting although the professor will never be awarded a Pulitzer for his writing. I found it fascinating to learn of his passion for winemaking. His mind did start to wander in the later chapters, not making a lot of sense. His illness must be rapidly progressing."

Lee remained silent, but what Decker was saying worried him. Had he underestimated von Kempner, had he really discovered something important? Was there a coded message hidden in the book? A stabbing pain in his side brought him back to the present. Decker had punched his side.

"Painful, is it? Your bruises are turning some very interesting colors. Tell me, does this hurt?"

Decker landed a sharp jab to Lee's abdomen, causing a moan he was unable to suppress. His tormentor sat down in the comfortable chair and drank more from the glass, patiently waiting for an answer. Lee slowly let out his breath attempting to ease his pain.

"Come, come, Lee, there's no need to be the stoic hero. I know and you know I'll get the answers by one method or another. Why don't you just give me what I want?"

"Nothing to tell," Lee managed to get out.

Decker rose and stood next to the restrained man. "You must be thirsty, have some tea."

He held the glass to Lee's lips, tipping the liquid into his mouth. Lee tried not to gulp down the welcome wetness too quickly. It would be foolish to refuse if he had any chance to withstand the interrogations. Gagging as the tea came faster and faster, not allowing him to swallow, Lee drew his head away.

"Sorry, I thought you needed a drink. If not, let's continue."

Decker walked to the right wall, examining the options before him. Much to Lee's terror, he selected a cat o' nine tails, turning and advancing towards the captain with hatred on his face.

Back aboard Seaview the first night out, Admiral Nelson checked their position before retiring to his cabin. He placed two glasses on his desk next to a bottle of Scotch and poured some liquor into one. Leaning back in his chair, he allowed himself the first sip of the day, waiting. He called out to enter when the expected knock came.

"What took you so long, Will?" Nelson filled the second glass with the fine Glenlivet Scotch.

"Any news from Chip?"

Nelson's expression grew stony. "Nothing good, I'm afraid, Will. Someone took the time and effort to check Lee out of his hotel, probably hoping nobody would report him missing for a while. We're lucky that the staff in Frankfurt were on the ball and sounded the alarm when he failed to arrive."

"Our last hope for an accident." Will took a sip, observing Nelson as he nervously tapped the desk in front of him. "Chip told you more, didn't he? There's something else bothering you."

"Von Kempner's dead. He passed away while Chip was with them."

"It's sad, but we knew it was coming. Did you know him very well?"

"We spoke on the same symposium once and worked in a joint project with our two governments. A brilliant man and very down to Earth. I think that's one reason why Lee struck up such a friendship with him."

"What aren't you telling me, Harry?"

The admiral tossed back the rest of his drink and poured another before answering the doctor's questions.

"Chip is sure there's something in the manuscript of the professor. He kept repeating something about hoping Lee understood his message. From what I was told, he was somewhat paranoid that people were bugging his house. I'm assuming that he was trying to give Lee clues without giving anything away."

Jamieson's eyebrows shot up. "So our captain might have information he doesn't even know he has?"

"That's a distinct possibility. What concerns me is why the driver has not come forward. We need to track him down, but with the professor's death, no one can identify him."

"Harry, Lee is very resourceful. He's been in lots of tough spots before. We've got to stay positive."

Nelson ran a hand through his hair. "One of these days his luck is going to run out, Will. I'm afraid this might be the time. We have no idea if he's still in Germany - or if he's even alive," Nelson said grimly. "I should never have allowed him to leave. At the very least, I should have insisted someone accompany him."

"You could blame me. I'm the one who okayed him for full duty."

"No, Will, even if I had given him a direct order he would have found a way to go around it. Von Kempner was 'family' to him. It's the same as if Chip or you needed him."

"Or you, Harry."

Nelson looked up. Jamieson knew that the pain in his eyes wasn't going away.

"Now we just wait for Morton's team to find some trace of him. I hate not being in the thick of things. I should be the one looking for Lee." I'm his father, was his unspoken thought.

Will finished his drink, refusing another. "I'm hitting the rack, and as the CMO, I'm ordering you to do the same."

After the doctor left the admiral's cabin, Nelson reluctantly obeyed the doctor's order, but sleep wouldn't come. He kept replaying the argument he'd with Lee….

"Sir, Admiral Johnson was here earlier while you were away."

He had immediately blown up, furious at Admiral Johnson. How dare he put Lee in harm's way so soon after his recovery? And Lee, that boy's sense of duty would be the death of both of them one day.

"No! You're not going off on some confounded mission for ONI."

"Sir, Professor von Kempner is asking for me, he doesn't trust anyone else."

"I don't care; you just came off medical leave."

"Dr. Jamison okayed me for full duty, there's no reason I shouldn't go."

"Commander Crane, I hired you to be the captain of Seaview, not play errand boy for the ONI. How many times have you returned injured, necessitating Mr. Morton doing your job?"

Lee's voice had gone very quiet.

"Admiral Nelson, if you feel I'm not performing my duties, you may have my resignation, sir. Perhaps Commander Morton will be better suited as Seaview's captain. He dislikes ONI, even more than you."

He had been stunned at the offer, knowing what Seaview meant to Lee. It had been a miscalculation, questioning Lee's dedication to duty. He had wounded Lee's pride. He'd swallowed some of his own to keep matters from getting out of hand.

"Don't be foolish, Lee, you were born to command Seaview, and so we won't speak any more about you resigning. If you must accept the assignment, I insist you keep in touch. If this is all so aboveboard, there should be no problem with that. But like so many of your past dealings with ONI, I'm afraid we will be called on to pull you out of the fire."

He had regretted the words as soon as they had come out of his mouth.

"I'll call when I arrive, Admiral. It there is nothing else, sir, I have some work that needs my attention." The stony look on his face and his tone was bad enough, but what was worse, was what he said as he did an abrupt about face and marched to the door. "I certainly don't plan on wasting anyone's time aboard Seaview. You won't have to worry about rescuing me. I'm capable of visiting a sick friend without starting an international incident."

He had wanted to say something, take back his words, but Lee had gone, practically slamming the door in his face.

Knowing Lee as well as he did, Harry could almost feel the hurt and anger the boy was experiencing over his sense of commitment to duty being called into question. Due to an unexpected meeting, he had been unable to calm the waters before Lee took off for Germany. Would those angry words be the last spoken between the two?

Nelson tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, finally reaching for his cigarettes. He would laugh at Lee's claim of not needing rescuing, if the situation wasn't so serious. When would Lee finally realize the fallacy of ONI's claim of a simple in and out?

Giving up sleep, Nelson put on his robe and checked with the control room for an update on their position and any incoming messages. He lit another cigarette and settled back in his chair with a book. It was going to be a long seven days.

0500 BITBURG HOTEL

Having received his wake up call, Chip ordered a pot of coffee and some breakfast rolls from room service. Showered and dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, he paced up and down the hotel room drinking coffee, trying to plan the next move. The picture of Gordon on his laptop stared up at him every time he passed the desk.

Please let him have a lead on Crane.

He was interrupted by a knock on the connecting door. Opening it, Chip found Ski and Pat up and dressed in jeans and dark colored T-shirts.

"There's coffee on the table, help yourselves. We'll go down to breakfast at seven. I want to see Gordon before he shows up at the room, make sure he's alone." Chip pointed to the laptop for the two men to study once more.

"Don't you trust him, Mr. Morton? I thought he was a friend of the skipper?"

Chip thought back to Drake, another "ONI friend," and all the trouble he'd caused.

"Right now, Ski, let's say I'm only sure about the three of us. This mission was supposed to be a cakewalk, and look what happened. It's best if we keep what we know quiet for now, and see what this agent has for us."

Chip laid out his plan. While he was with Gordon, Kowalski and Patterson would speak with the night clerk Peter and see if he could remember anyone asking for Lee or knowing anyone that looked like the man who checked out the captain. They would also question the other staff members. As Chip was leaving the front desk last night the oaf of a desk clerk had volunteered that the man had looked a little familiar and was certainly German, based on his speech. It was amazing how a hint of further tips could loosen tongues in any language.

The three men had finished eating breakfast in the hotel restaurant and were stalling over their coffee, watching for the ONI agent. They had a clear view of anyone entering the hotel.

"Remember, I'll follow Gordon up to my room. You keep a lookout for anyone who seems to be interested in either of us. If it appears safe, go talk to the staff. It's a long shot, but it's a start."

Patterson was the first to spot the ONI man strolling past the registration desk and heading towards the elevators. Both Pat and Kowalski nonchalantly stood up and walked towards the foyer, casually glancing around, discussing plans to visit the brewery. Dropping a sightseeing pamphlet he had previously selected from the rack, Ski picked it up and replaced it on the table - a signal no one was following Gordon.

The elevator had returned to the ground floor just as Chip arrived in front of it. He was alone as it stopped on the third floor. Chip cautiously exited, looking for the agent. There was no one waiting in front of his room. Testing the door and finding it still locked, he used his card to enter. Slowly pushing the door open, Chip was surprised to find the room unoccupied. A slight noise from the connecting room grabbed his attention. With utmost care, he opened that door.

Agent Gordon stood by the foot of the beds, holding a gun pointed at Chip.

"Good morning, Commander Morton. Please come in."