Nelson glanced up as Chip Morton came down the spiral stairs. He nodded acknowledgement to the admiral, moved past Lee with a soft exchange, and bent over Kowalski at the sonar station. After a moment, he moved further aft to the radar station, quietly gathering status reports from the personnel on watch.

Lee shook his head and smiled at Nelson. "I guess he couldn't stand the paperwork."

The admiral said nothing. He knew why Chip was here. Zero hour was fast approaching, and the XO was maneuvering closer to the aft hatch, where Nash would appear. Doing his job…

The XO had made sure to be close to Lee as often as possible without arousing the captain's suspicions. And when he couldn't be near Lee, then someone else was – Sharkey, Kowalski, Patterson, someone who was absolutely trustworthy. And now, here he was in the Control Room, surreptitiously watching for Nash. There was a tension about him, as if he were contemplating all the possibilities and preparing for drastic measures.

Drastic measures… Nelson wasn't sure what sort of drastic measures would be called for. With the increased security about the armory and the small arms lockers, Nash shouldn't have been able to get a weapon. There was no way he could advance far enough into the control room with a knife or a blunt instrument to reach the captain. Someone would take him down, probably Chip himself, judging from his hyper-vigilance. There might be a minor injury or two, but surely nothing serious… There should be no need for drastic measures… If all went according to plan, Lee would survive, and Nelson wouldn't have to bury him. That was the only outcome he would accept. Nothing else mattered.

But who will you have to bury, Harry?

John's voice, a sinister thread through his thoughts. He shut the voice away, refusing to listen to it. No one was going to die today. Everyone was on edge, yes, but no one was going to die. Chip had done good work, he'd risen to the occasion, like he always did, even when Nelson kept him mostly in the dark. He'd met and exceeded expectations once again. This time would be different. This time Lee would live…

But Chip hadn't yet worked his way around to the aft hatch when Nash made his entrance, at least ten minutes earlier than expected. The crewman yelled Lee's name, and pulled a gun, a surprise that probably should have frozen Nelson to the spot. But he hadn't really expected that Nash wouldn't be able to get his hands on the weapon. He couldn't explain his foreboding, but he hadn't earned his four stars by ignoring his gut intuition. Somehow he had known that Nash would get his hands on a gun, and every muscle was prepared for that eventuality…

Nelson was already moving, almost before Nash called out the captain's name, pushing Lee to the floor, watching for Chip's reaction, and thinking disgustedly that the XO was still too far away. Nash would get the shot off.

Lee was struggling to his feet; Nelson tried to shove him down again, but Lee threw his hand off and rose, turning to face Nash. Time telescoped outward; every second seemed like hours. The admiral saw Chip sweep the control room with those cold calculating eyes, and take a step. Not toward Nash… Instead he moved on a path that would carry him between the crazed crewman and Lee. Nash pulled the trigger as Chip took the second step, and Nelson suddenly realized what he was going to do.

"No!" Impossible… This couldn't be happening… Nelson moved as quickly as he could, but he knew he wasn't fast enough, that he was too far away, and that Chip would ignore the shouted command. He would be thinking only about saving Lee's life… "No, damn it!"

But it was already too late. The bullet slammed into Chip, hurling him back and down. He hit the floor hard, but Nelson knew he didn't feel it. The bullet had entered his heart with catastrophic force. Chip was dead before he hit the deck.

Lee pushed past Nelson, crumpling at his friend's side, searching desperately for a pulse, for any sign of a life that had already fled. His face turned ashen, as he began to administer CPR. He must have known it was hopeless, yet he continued to compress the XO's chest, even after Kowalski moved closer and spoke to him in a soft voice. "Sir… There's nothing you can do for him, sir…"

Lee ignored him, muttering under his breath… Or was he speaking to his dead friend, trying to force the man to listen, even though all ability to do so had fled?

Will entered the control room at a run. It seemed to Nelson that people were moving all around him, trying to help, moving to a place where they could gawk in awkward silence, or moving back to let the doctor and his corpsman in. Kowalski wrapped his arms around the captain and pulled him away from the body, holding him when Lee struggled to return, to continue the chest compressions that were utterly useless now. Will shot him a concerned glance, as he supervised the removal of Chip's body from the deck. O'Brien drew in a deep breath and ordered the men back to their stations. Will laid a hand on Lee's shoulder and spoke to Ski quietly. In a few moments, he left the control room, followed by Ski who gently shepherded the captain before him…

But Nelson couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. Of all the outcomes he had considered three days ago when he'd told Chip Morton about the threat to Lee's life, he had never imagined this, never thought the man would willingly, unhesitatingly, deliberately take a bullet for his captain. And, Nelson realized with a cold feeling of dread and guilt, he should have known. He'd known Chip Morton for twenty years; it should have come as no surprise that the young man would choose that kind of sacrifice if he felt the situation called for it. He had been too far from both Lee and Nash to tackle either one. But a simple two steps had offered the solution. Nelson had only asked for Lee's safety, after all; he hadn't even thought to demand that Chip guarantee his own as well…

And he was surprised at how hard this loss hit him. He hadn't thought that guilt and sorrow would squeeze his lungs until he couldn't breathe, hadn't considered that – despite the distance he had put between them – he could still hurt this badly…

Anyone but Lee… He had told himself that he could bear the loss of anyone on this boat but Lee… But it wasn't true. Why hadn't he known that? Why hadn't he realized that there was more than one life on this boat that was infinitely precious to him? Why hadn't he remembered the lesson of Afghanistan, only ten years before? Why hadn't he thought about those seven days in hell, believing his protégé was dead, before news finally came? He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, not wanting to see the white faces around him; the anguished looks the men gave him. Instead, he turned away, wanting nothing more than to rail at someone, to find someone to blame for this debacle…

But the only person he could blame was himself…