Chapter 11

Lee worked his way down the vent shaft until he came to the opening in the crew's quarters. By the looks of it about a third of the men had been placed in the room. He watched closely for a few minutes making sure none of Logan's men were around. He quickly spied Kowalski sitting near the grate.

"Psst…psst," Lee said. Kowalski turned his head trying to find the source. "Ski, up here in the vent shaft."

Ski rose slowly from his seat and turned nonchalantly towards the grate to check out the oddly familiar voice. He didn't want to draw anyone's attention in case they reacted and the noise brought in the guard stationed outside the door. He peered into the grate and was greeted by the smiling face of his skipper.

"Skipper?!" he whispered, looking very much like he'd seen a ghost. "Is that really you?"

"Yes Ski, it's me," Lee assured him.

"How'd you get here? You know you're supposed to be dead, right?" Ski hissed back.

"Long story. Ski get the men over here as quietly as you can. It's time we take our boat back."

Ski smiled and nodded in full agreement. He turned back around and walked over to Patterson and a couple of the other men and spoke quietly to them. "Guys, keep it quiet, but the skipper's on-board and in the vent shaft. Go alert the rest of the guys, but make sure they keep quiet and don't alert the dingus outside the door."

Their heads shot up immediately, their faces turning to the vent shaft looking for confirmation of what Ski had just told them. Lee waved slightly letting them know he was there. Broad smiles marked their expressions as they quickly stood and began to move amongst the men letting them know what was going on. The same reaction happened time and again as each little group got the news.

Once everyone had been alerted and the potential of an unexpected outburst eliminated, Lee pushed open the grate and slid out. The crewmen all beamed in delighted surprise. Lee shook a couple of hands and then waved them near. He grabbed a seat at the table and began to speak softly.

"Marty, keep an ear to the door and let us know if someone is coming," Lee ordered. Marty nodded and positioned himself at the door ready to alert them if he heard anything out of the usual.

"How'd you get aboard, sir?" Patterson asked quietly. Every face looked at him expectantly for an answer.

"Later, I promise," Lee responded. "Right now we need to get busy taking back our boat. I need to know how closely they monitor you in here. Do they count heads every time they come in? How often do they come in? Which of you do they usually deal with when they come in?"

"When they first took over, they were coming in about every hour, just to make sure we weren't up to anything. After that they only come in when it's time for the head call, and when the meals are brought in. That won't be for another three or four hours. They usually talk to me or Patterson, if there's anything they want to know. They haven't done a count since after they first shoved us in here," Ski responded, as the senior rating present.

"That's good to hear," Lee replied with a slight smile. "That will make our takeover that much easier. I need five men to come with me; Ski you and Pat can't come. If they return, you'll be the first ones they'll look for. With this many men in the room, they aren't going to miss a few. So any volunteers?" Every hand shot up into the air. Lee smiled again expecting nothing less from his crew.

He quickly selected the five he would take with him. "All right, here's the plan. From here Gene and Art work your way down to storerooms 1A and 1D, that's where the rest of the crew is being kept. You need to get their attention like I did you, ask the same questions and then select ten men from each group to go with you. Don't select any officers or chiefs; they will be the first ones missed because of their uniforms. From there, work your way down to the missile room. When I checked, the space was empty. If they've gone back in, meet in the maintenance access tube. That will be our muster point." Both men nodded their understanding of their orders.

"Gerry, get down to the engine room, and if no one is there disable the engines and make the reason really tough to find. You've got to act fast because with Logan aboard, they'll be wanting to move in short order. If the engines are a no go, try the reactor. Phil, Tom, you come with me, we're heading down to the armory. Anybody have any questions?" Lee asked.

"What do you want us to do Skipper?" Ski asked.

"You guys have to make sure they don't catch on that anything is going on. They figure out they're a few men short in here and it could get ugly. If that happens, do what you need to do to overpower them, then head to the missile room," Lee responded. They all nodded their understanding.

As Lee pushed to his feet, he was suddenly hit with a nasty coughing fit that had him doubled over and fighting hard to catch his breath. Ski was at his side instantly with a supporting hand on his arm and a very concerned look on his face.

"Are you okay Skipper? That doesn't sound good."

Lee nodded as he struggled to catch his breath, tears of pain streaming down his face. As he stood upright, he wiped the moisture from his cheeks then pulled out the inhaler and took another deep draw. "Yeah, I'm fine, Ski. A hold over from my dive down here."

"Dive?!" Ski inquired incredulously.

Lee nodded then looked hurriedly at the door fearing his coughing episode had drawn the guard. Marty looked at him and gave him a negative head shake and the okay sign. The guard, if there even was one now, was unworried about anyone hacking up a lung in their makeshift cell.

Now in possession of his breath, Lee shot a glance around the room. "Okay, everybody be ready to move when the time comes. You five, come with me and move as quietly as you can. We don't need to tip our hand."

Lee headed to the grate and Ski gave him a boost up. "Good luck, sir." Each man followed in turn and then the grate was quietly pressed shut. Ski looked around the room and smiled. "All right you guys, as you were."

(olooo

Lee and team carefully made their way through the ventilation shaft with men peeling off to different parts of the boat as they hit the various junctions. He'd given them 30 minutes in which to carry out their tasks and to meet up in the missile room.

Gene and Art made contact with the men in the two storerooms and selected ten from each room to assist with the takeover. They started sending the men in groups of three through the shaft to the missile room so they didn't run the risk of making a sound during their transit. Gene took lead and when he arrived he thoroughly scouted out the missile room and found it empty. He waved his group in and then directed two men over to the hatch to listen for anyone coming. Within 20 minutes they were all assembled and awaiting their captain.

Gerry lucked out and watched Logan's man leave the engine room just as he got to the grate. He waited about 5 minutes before he crawled out of the duct and into the room, then went to work sabotaging the engine controls so they would be going nowhere fast. Just as he completed his work and eased out of the room he heard the approach of footsteps down the corridor. Not certain he could make it back into the duct, he bolted down the passageway and ducked into one of the smaller supply closets.

He peered cautiously into the corridor through the small gap between the door and the sill. He cursed to himself when the man appeared then walked into the engine room and stayed. He probably wouldn't be able to make it into the ventilation shaft, but at least he'd completed his mission. He just hoped everyone else was doing better than him.

Lee and his two men arrived at the shaft outside the armory. There was no guard, so Lee carefully pushed open the grate and lowered himself to the floor, then signaled his men to wait. He stepped across the hall, tried the door and mentally cursed when he found it locked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys he'd collected in his cabin. He quickly located the correct key and then waved his men over.

Once inside they immediately began collecting guns and ammunition, along with a few smoke grenades to help confuse and scatter Logan's men. When each had a duffle filled, Lee cracked open the door and scanned the corridor. Again finding no one, he sent the first man across with his load and started him on his way to the missile room.

After Phil disappeared from view, he sent Tom. When Tom was out of sight, Lee secured the armory and then quickly deposited his cache of weapons into the duct and crawled in after it. Pulling the grate closed he was once again slammed with a nearly uncontrollable urge to cough. His lungs felt as if they were about to explode within his chest as he bit back the natural reflex to cough. As best he could, he scooted out of sight in the shaft, pulled out the inhaler, placed it in his mouth and depressed the switch. This time there was no healing mist, he'd used it all up.

Lee rolled on his back and tried to still his body. As he tamped down the urge to cough he heard the sound of someone in the corridor. If he coughed now, they were all screwed. He carefully jammed his legs wide against the shaft sides to keep from kicking the walls as his body contorted and strained to expel the unwanted liquid in his lungs. Tears streamed from his eyes and he bit down hard on the canvas duffle he had with him to muffle any sound that might try to escape.

Hard as he tried, a quick gasp escaped. He employed every ounce of his self-control and froze when he heard the footsteps stop, then scuff the floor as the owner turned around and moved back up the passageway. After a few steps the owner stopped, apparently listening for a repeat of the sound he had heard.

It was no more than a minute, but it felt as though Lee hadn't taken a breath in over a year. His lungs were burning and he was fighting both the urge to cough, and the physical imperative to breathe. He was on the very edge of losing control when he finally heard the steps continue down the passageway followed by glorious silence. Unable to maintain any longer he took a quick tentative breath. That action was too much and his body seized on the opening. He instantly curled up into a ball as his lungs wrung themselves out. When his body finally calmed he remained absolutely still listening for any indication that he had given himself away. Apparently his luck was holding as the silence continued.

He found himself still severely short of breath but he needed to move and join up with his team. After a moment he rolled onto his belly and began pushing his bag down the shaft towards the missile room and hopefully the rest of his team. Hard as he tried he just couldn't seem to really catch his breath.

ooolo)

It had been nearly an hour since Logan had stormed out of the control room. The only sounds occupying the space were the beeps and whirs emitted by the various equipment that monitored Seaview's location and the things around her. That calm was suddenly shattered when Logan stormed quickly down the staircase and entered the nose.

"Weems!" he bellowed. "Where the hell are you?"

Weems moved quickly from the radio shack where he was talking with the operator up to the nose to answer Logan's hail. "I'm here. What is it you need?" he asked cautiously.

"It's time for us to get going. Get everyone to their stations and get this tub moving to a safe location," he ordered.

Weems cringed at that thought since listening to the discussion between Dresden and Logan. They'd lost their safe port, and if Nelson was correct, as soon as they moved the Navy vessels all around them would begin their search and destroy mission. He was no naval officer and neither was Logan so given they were now facing a thoroughly trained and proficient Navy with only a handful of men, they were pretty well screwed. A number of the men with him were Navy trained but none had actually captained a sub and they were needed to run the boat.

Their only hope would be to pull men from Nelson's crew to run the boat under threat of death if they failed. Somehow he knew that even using Nelson as a hostage, they would most likely refuse or they would intentionally give away their position to the vessels around them. They had to know that there was no way they were ever going home.

"Quit stalling! Get the men to their stations." he snapped.

Weems picked up the mic. "All personnel report to your stations, we will be getting under way shortly."

Nine men were nowhere near enough personnel to operate this boat. The PR was supposed to have provided additional crew members once they deposited their nuclear device. Now that their assistance was no longer an option they would have to rely on Nelson's crew to provide the men needed to make that happen. It wasn't an ideal situation, but that was the only way they were going to be able to get out of here.

As the men filtered in, Logan pulled Weems aside. "Who has the most experience with submarines?"

"Probably Hillman, the man at the sonar station," Weems replied.

"Hillman, get over here," Logan ordered.

Hillman rose from the sonar station and walked forward. As he looked at Weems and then Logan, he knew they were definitely in trouble. "What do you need?"

"Weems said you've got the most experience on subs, is that true?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I spent 10 years in the Navy, four of 'em on subs," he replied.

"Excellent, then you're now captain of the Seaview," Logan declared.

"What?! No way! I don't have any experience captaining a boat. I do sonar, that's it. I don't have the skills to drive this boat through the water safely. If you need that get Morton or Nelson to do it," Hillman protested.

"Morton and Nelson are not an option. You need to get us to this location," Logan answered as he pointed to a spot on the navigation chart off the coast of North Korea.

Hillman looked at Weems and then back at Logan. "Look, I'm telling you I can't do that. I don't have the knowledge and skills, plus to drive the boat I need to have sonar and I'm the only sonar operator you got and I can't do both jobs. Plus, the area we're in is full of canyons and sea mounts and all it would take is one mistake on my part and we'd find ourselves crashing into either of those and on a one-way trip to the bottom. Find someone else."

Logan glared at the man, never had anyone refused to follow his orders. This was mutiny and he had to deal with it now before it spread. Logan pulled the gun out of jacket pocket and aimed it squarely at Hillman's chest. "You will do it or you will find yourself dead."

He held up his hands in a placating manner. "Yeah, yeah, all right I'll try but I need someone to run sonar. It's not like those windows do much good."

"Who was running sonar when you took over?" Logan asked Weems.

"There were three of them. Kowalski is probably the best," Weems replied. Hillman nodded his head as confirmation.

"Get him. Who else do you need?"

Hillman turned and scanned the control room noting where men had taken up stations. "Um…we need another one at the helm, one on the hydrophone, diving control, navigation, and probably extra men in the reactor room and engine room."

"Weems get them," Logan ordered.

"I don't know who all is qualified for that," Weems sputtered. "Have Hillman do it."

Logan narrowed his eyes and glared at the scientist. He tightened his grip on the gun sorely tempted to shoot the man for his incompetence but he needed what few hands he had to move this boat. If his situation wasn't so precarious, he would have ended him right there to send the necessary message to the rest of his men. He nearly smiled as he watched the bead of sweat trickle down the side of the other man's face. He quickly spun around and grabbed the clipboard holding the duty roster off of the chart table and slammed it hard against Weems' chest. "Figure it out," he snarled. "Now get out of my sight!"

Weems grabbed the clipboard and took the opportunity provided him to get out of the control room as quickly as possible. This was all coming down around their ears and he had little doubt that they were all going to die.

"Bring the engines on line and let's get moving," he directed to Hillman.

Hillman cringed and moved forward to the chart table and regarded the navigation chart spread out before him. He really had no idea what their true location was since no one was closely monitoring the boat's position. After a moment he decided his course. "Helm, course 280, ahead one third," he ordered tentatively.

The helmsman looked over at him, eyes wide with fear and apprehension. After a moment of delay, he parroted the command and made the adjustments to his dials then engaged the engines. "Uh…Hillman nothing's happening," Anderson reported.

"What?! What do you mean nothing's happening?" Logan yelled.

(olooo