Chip glared at Sharkey again, turning the intensity up a notch. The man had been following him around for three days, and he'd been present outside Chip's cabin every morning for all the world like he'd been standing guard. As if that weren't bad enough, he'd followed the XO to the wardroom every day and waited outside as Chip had presided over the junior officers at breakfast, then tagged along down the spiral stairs into the control room. This was far from the first time in the past three days that Chip had warned him off with a glare, but when Sharkey took it into his head to do something, no power on Earth could change his course. "COB!"
Sharkey winced. "Sir?" His expression was deceptively innocent. Whatever thoughts were spinning behind those questioning brown eyes were admirably hidden. Sharkey didn't really have a poker face, but he was well armored against upstart officers who wanted to know what he was doing. And clearly at the moment, he considered his XO one of those upstart officers.
"Why are you following me?" Chip folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at the chief. He could feel the control room watch tense up around him, a reaction to his very visible displeasure, but he had no effect on Sharkey whatsoever. Whatever the COB's reasons, he clearly thought they were good ones.
Sharkey ducked his head, but he was very much a bulldog, unwilling and unable to let go, even if it was in his best interests. "Orders, sir."
Orders? Whose orders? Chip studied the COB speculatively and decided that was information the man wouldn't give up. So instead of asking, he swallowed his impatience and turned away, making his way around the control room as he worked on the problem himself.
There were really only two people who could have given orders that would supersede his own: Lee or the admiral. Lee wasn't likely to order the COB to follow his XO. There was no reason to do so, and besides, Lee knew very well that it was his own life that was under threat. The conversation they'd had in Chip's cabin last night had made it clear that Lee was well aware something was up, so it wasn't feasible to keep things from him anymore.
And actually Lee had commented on Sharkey's presence outside the cabin… He clearly hadn't ordered it, if he had no idea why the chief was there.
Which left the admiral… But the admiral was concerned about Lee, as well he should be, and had no reason to ask Sharkey to follow the XO around like a well-trained dog. It made no sense.
Unless Sharkey had simply taken it upon himself to do so. The COB hadn't been best pleased at the way Steven Nash had taken the news that he was relieved of duty. Did he think that the crewman had transferred his resentment of Lee to Chip? Unlikely…
Nash stepped through the aft hatch, drawing his attention. Early. The admiral had said he would come through there at 0940 hours. It was barely 0930. He was too early and too far away. The fact that he was there at all proved Nelson's knowledge of the future… How he had known was a question for later, when this conundrum was resolved in the only way he could imagine it being resolved…
Chip swept the control room with an anxious gaze. Lee was standing by the chart table, unaware that Nash was there. The admiral had moved up to stand next to the captain, shooting an anxious glare at his XO, and Kowalski, too, had risen from the sonar station, ready to act. Behind him, Riley had quietly slid into Ski's seat, so that sonar remained manned. Lee was covered, although even that shouldn't be necessary, since there was no way Nash could be armed…
With shocking suddenness Nash pulled a gun he couldn't possibly have gotten from the arsenal on board, because it had been under constant supervision for the past three days. Nor could the gun have come from one of the small arms lockers scattered in strategic areas of the boat, because Chip had made sure that Sharkey had all those keys in his possession. Where had that gun come from?
No time to examine the mystery in any sort of detail. Nash took aim, yelling Lee's name with an hysterical tremor in his voice. "Crane!" There was no time to do anything now but act…
Chip raked the control room with a glare, furiously calculating the best course of action. Lee was further from him than Nash, and the crewman's finger was already tightening on the trigger. He could reach neither one of them in time. The quickest and best solution – the one with the best hope of a positive outcome - was to step between them and take the bullet. Chip moved forward quickly as the gun roared and spat out its projectile. Time was moving too fast, but if he moved straight forward, just one more step, he would intercept the bullet… He heard the admiral's cry of protest, and ignored it, intent on the one course of action that would save the captain's life. Without even thinking about what it would mean to take that bullet, unhesitatingly, he took the step that would put him in its path…
But he had reckoned without Sharkey. Before he even realized what was happening, the chief tackled him, carrying him to the floor underneath Sharkey's stocky weight, and pinning him down. The bullet passed overhead with a menacing whine. Chip's heart lurched, symptom of his anxiety that Sharkey's action had guaranteed Lee's death. He struggled against the chief's grip desperately. "Get off me, COB!"
"Not yet, sir. Just a moment more," the chief panted, tightening his grip, and then the admiral bore down on them, eyes flashing… Oh, God, Lee must have been hit…