Nathan wasn't sure what to expect as he entered St. Louis. A day had passed since Achilles' death and the destroyer was doing his best to soothe her hungry shiplings. They constantly wailed and whined, desperate for food. Rachel had made some milk for them with what she had in the medical stores but it wasn't much and it wasn't the kind of milk the pups needed. Nathan had to put into a port somewhere and stock up on stores of preserved sub milk.

He rounded a corner, weapons at the ready as he fully expected a civilian fleet to come at him with makeshift weapons blazing. Instead what he found were people cheering on the shoreline. As he passed by the Grand Arch he saw what ships had gathered in the harbor. He recognized a few. The young teenager Zumwalt. The massive carrier Enterprise, god knows how she made her way into the tight harbor. There were also the museum ships Yorktown, Laffey, and Clamagore. Nathan saw and bit back his whine of worry when he saw a familiar black hull huddled in a berth at the far end of the harbor. Thresher raised her head weakly to smile at him.

"Hey." She croaked.

Her black hull was covered in sores and she was hull and frame pretty much. Had no one bothered to feed her? Nathan approached her, having been given the contagious booster shot by Rachel. His shipling and the pups had their own immunity as well.

"Thresher." He whispered, resting his head over hers, exhaling on her.

She leaned into him, opening her jaws as she inhaled his scent. "I missed you." She rasped.

"I missed you too." He replied, brushing his lips across the top of her head. She purred, her head dropping as coughs wracked her. "You'll feel better soon." He whimpered.

"I know. Thank you, Nathan." She murmured.

She leaned back, resting a fin over her nose. Nathan smiled. "That's it. Rest." He murmured.

He backed off, turning to Clamagore. "I've got a dozen hungry pups and I don't have food for them." He said.

"Say no more, I've got 'em." The old sub smiled. "At least until Miss Wet Nurse over there gets better."

"Oi!" Thresher growled though there was a twinkle in her eye.

Nathan docked at his assigned berth, watching as his crew disembarked. The President granted Rachel a pardon and after he was inaugurated, he chose Chandler as his CNO. A big job to be sure but Nathan expected to be in drydock for months. A lot needed to be done in that time. He couldn't go to the presidential ball but Clamagore could. Submarines had the unique ability to shrink themselves down to a reasonable size making it easier for them to move about on land. Nathan and Thresher watched the pups while she was gone. The old submarine was getting better every day. The sores on her hull became less aggravated and she didn't have new ones breaking out. She'd stopped coughing up blood though she did occasionally break down in a fit. The vibrant sparkle in her green eyes had returned and she was getting some meat back on her thin frame. She looked up at Nathan from where she was licking one of the pups, Achilles named for her mother.

"She's distressed about something. I can't figure out what." Thresher said.

"Any idea why?" Nathan asked.

"Well I do know that most subs have what you could consider a sixth sense. We can tell when something's wrong or is about to go wrong. Before this whole epidemic started, there were worldwide reports of submarines getting increasingly highstrung and agitated, less willing to follow the rules of military discipline." She explained.

"I see and you think that something's wrong here?" Nathan questioned.

"Yes."

"Then why aren't you acting up?" Nathan asked.

"A valid question. In truth, I too sense something but I am more adapt at controlling my instincts than most. I have perfected my military discipline. Had to, if I was going to last as a spy." She answered.

The destroyer nodded. "Any idea as to what's wrong?" He asked.

"That, is something my senses cannot tell me." She sighed.

...

Thresher's senses proved to be deadly accurate. After the ball, Rachel came face to face with a stranger.

"Hello, can I help you?" She asked.

"Are you the lady who discovered the cure?" He asked, staggering forward with a slight limp. That and his ragged close made Rachel wonder if he was ill or had some family that was ill. Due to the lack of boils on his skin she suspected the latter.

"Yes, did you miss the initial reception?" She asked.

"Yes. I hear the cure is contagious. Uh how close do you need to get?" He asked, staggering forward all the while. Rachel could smell the alcohol on him and hid her wince.

At arms length, she drew the line. "That's close enough." She said.

He paused. "So long bitch." He grinned and raised an arm. In his hand was a gun. He pulled the trigger. The muzzle had a muffler on it so no one heard the gunshot.

Rachel gasped as she was shot in her left breast. She staggered against the wall, gripping the railing for support. The man turned and walked away and Rachel lacked any strength to go after him. Her right hand went up to her breast as her medical training kicked in. She had to stop the bleeding. She tore off part of her thin tights and pressed it to the wound, a better substitute than her hand. Blood still flowed though and there was no exit wound, meaning the bullet had lodged somewhere close to her heart. Her legs gave out and she fell on her knees, rolling on her back as her other hand let go of the railing and came up to hold the cloth over the wound. Numbness spread across her body and she tried to fight it but blood loss made her weak.

"Nathan, I'm sorry." She thought and everything went black.