A Stand Off

The official had a gun and a grenade, and held them all immobile as zero hour approached. The missile must be fired if they were to salvage the mission, save the world from disaster. He was focussed on the men in the control room, didn't see the Captain. If the Captain could get to the missile control they could still accomplish the mission.

How? Think … think. Be unnoticed.*

The next day the vessels were all still together as the intelligence repercussions of the commissioning were dealt with. Lieutenant Commander Hendley came aboard to deliver a package of security briefing documents contained in a plain briefcase to Nelson.

Hendley followed Patterson down the spiral stairs to be introduced to the Admiral. Crane, in civvies again, was dozing in the nose his back toward the spiral stairs. After the additional battering yesterday, he hurt both when standing and lying down. The chair the men adapted for his use was about the only place he could get at all comfortable. He looked frail, pale, insubstantial, a nonentity, like a drowsy civilian. Hendley casting a quick glance saw him, but not recognizing him, disregarded him and carried on after Patterson.

He and Nelson met at the plot table and exchanged civilities. Hendley opened the briefcase pulled out a thick envelope, which he pushed across the corner of the plot table toward Nelson. As Nelson looked at and opened it Hendley reached into the briefcase again and suddenly the situation was something very different.

There was a sudden stillness to the visitor; Nelson glanced up to look down the barrel of the gun. It was not what he was expecting. He instinctively took a couple of steps back then stopped, stunned into stillness and silence. He looked up into Hendley's eyes.

Hendley asked, "Do you know who I am, Admiral?"

"Mm hmm, Lieutenant Commander Hendley."

"That's my name and rank, yes. Who am I?"

"Perhaps you'd better tell me."

"I'm Lieutenant Hendley's brother. Was."

"Hendley. Ah, yes, the air-revitalizing specialist. He was your brother?"

"Yes."

"I remember now. The Hendley brothers specialists in air revitalization and … " Nelson paused, the depths of the betrayal dawning, " … water purification."

"Correct, and he's dead because of you and your faulty submarine. Now I am going to kill you." He noticed Nelson's calculating glance at his gun. "Oh, I know. Just one gun in a room full of loyal crew, not much of a threat is it? But, the gas in this canister is lethal and will kill everyone aboard if I release it."

"I'm not going to try for your gun." Nelson reassured him, then continued, "I'm sorry for your loss, it must be unbearable."

"What would you know?"

"I grieved for all those men."

"But not as family."

"No, not as family."

"You have no idea the grief. No body, no grave. No place for my mother to lay flowers. It's despicable what you did to all of us who lost loved ones on the Polidor, the devastation for the families. My family." He spat out the words, "You don't have a brother, you can't know."

Little did he know that Nelson did have a brother, not a brother through parentage but possibly a closer kinship yet, a chosen brother. Nelson also saw his brother, beaten down and weakened as he was, with broken ribs, physically and mentally exhausted, striving to get silently up out of that chair there behind Hendley's back.

Lee found his strength.

Crane, disregarded once again, silently crossed to the small arms locker near the spiral stairs, then appeared in Hendley's peripheral vision at the bottom of stairs themselves. He continued moving to stand in the line between Hendley and Patterson.

Crane, watching Hendley, spoke aloud, "Patterson, go up the stairs." Patterson hesitated; he wanted to stay to help the Skipper and the Admiral. "Now, Patterson."

"Aye, aye, sir." Patterson scrambled up. Hendley, hearing a sailor's response to an officer off to his left, glanced quickly toward the stairs and saw Crane.

Without taking his eyes off of Hendley the Captain continued moving to place his body as a shield between the Admiral and Hendley's gun. His tension and control were visible to all. He meant business. Without so much as a look at, or word to, the duty watch, this debilitated, ashen-faced person had taken command of the boat and had the conn.

Crane spoke very deliberately and intentionally in an ice-cold voice, "Drop your weapons."

Hendley for the first time really looked at Crane, he still saw only an ill civilian but one with a gun. With a dismissive jerk of his head replied, "No. You drop your gun."

"Admiral, leave the control room through the aft hatch, sir."

"No, Lee."

"Mr. Morton, come here." Ordered Crane.

"Aye, sir."

"Stand right here." Keeping his eyes on Hendley, he indicated a spot just slightly behind and to his left. Chip took his stand there blocking a shot at the Admiral from that angle.

"Admiral, aft out of the control room, sir. On the double."

"No, Lee."

"Chief. Stand right behind us, between us." That would block a bullet going between the Captain and Exec.

"Aye, aye, sir."

The Chief moved forward and placed himself between the Exec and the Admiral. As he did so in deference to the Skipper's no nonsense commanding tone he said rather formally to the Admiral, "By your leave, sir." As he moved behind them Crane and Morton in mutual understanding shifted to widen the area they were shielding.

"Riley!" Crane's voice was crisp with incisiveness.

"Yes, sir."

"Stand forward of Admiral Nelson and walk him aft out of here. Do it now."

"Aye, aye, sir." Taking his queue from the Chief, he also said, "By your leave, sir." as he inserted himself between the Chief and the Admiral, facing the Admiral, forcing Nelson to take a step backward.

"No, Captain Crane. I am not leaving." Nelson's voice was commanding as he dug in his heels.

"Yes, with all due respect, Admiral, you are. That's an order, sir."

"I countermand it."

"Admiral, this is not the time to rehash that argument. I want you in your lab, sir."

"No, Commander. I am staying here." All there recognized the anger and unswerving determination as Nelson threw down Crane's rank instead of his courtesy title while aboard the boat, Nelson's ultimate gauntlet with his Captain.

Although Crane's back was to the Admiral the power struggle between the two officers was palpable. Crane was adamant, Nelson intransigent.

Then a word crossed the Captain's lips that no one in that room had ever heard him say before. It startled the Seaview men so much that they all, every one of them, looked at the Captain in total disbelief their mouths opening in shock.

"Harry, … please."

The Captain was deadly serious and had never once taken his eyes off of Hendley.

Riley, who was facing Nelson, also half turned to look back at the Skipper in amazement. In the split second as he turned away from Nelson he saw the livid anger in Nelson's face change abruptly to stunned astonishment and could it be … a fleeting glimpse of joy?

"Yes, Captain." Nelson turned and left with tall Riley following him to shield his back as he stepped up through the hatch.

All eyes were fixed on the Captain. His command of the situation was absolute. The Captain was the only one looking at Hendley now.

"Everyone except the Chief and the Exec go aft out of here, now."

After casting questioning glances between themselves all the remaining control room duty watch went aft. When the Captain no longer heard movement of men leaving behind him he spoke again. "Chief, off you go."

"But, sir."

"Not now, Chief. Go."

"Aye, aye, sir."

There, finally he'd remembered the code name. He wanted to tell Nelson but it just wouldn't come to mind. Proof he wasn't fit for duty.

"Chip, get everyone aft of frame 21. Dog the hatches. Go."

"Aye, aye, sir." With the first glimmer of understanding, "Lee … 21?"

"Aft of 21. Tell the Admiral, use those words."

"Aye, sir." Morton left.

He changed the code name. Crane hoped the Admiral figured it out.

Crane stood alone now facing Hendley. Hendley held a gun on him but Crane was in charge. With his eyes locked on Hendley he shifted his gun from his right hand to his left, grasping it around the cast. He couldn't pull the trigger now if he tried, but his force of will controlled the room and he knew it.

Without taking his eyes off of Hendley he pivoted slightly toward the periscope island so he could lift the mike with his right hand. "Attention, all hands, this is the Captain. All hands lay aft of frame 21. No exceptions. On the double. All hands lay aft of frame 21." That was it. He'd done what he could. He cradled the mike and switched the gun back to his right hand. Now he just had to keep Hendley right here in this strange standoff.

In sick bay Doc looked up at the intercom speaker with look of angry exasperation. The Captain could barely stand up straight today with the new bruises and battered ribs, what was he doing giving orders? That was it. No more concessions. When the Captain reported back here after this visit to the nose he wasn't leaving without permission no matter what the Admiral said.

The Chief and Sparks were just outside the hatch. When Morton exited the control room he ordered, "We've got to get everyone aft of frame 21. Chief, you check the upper deck, make sure every man is aft and dog the hatches as the compartments are vacated. Sparks, you do the lower deck. Then both of you report to me at the Admiral's lab."

"Aye, sir."

Nelson figured it out as soon as Crane made the announcement to the crew with the words 'frame 21'. Of course! It made perfect sense with a lethal gas in the control room. The Captain might not be fit for duty but there was nothing wrong with his smarts. Nelson was disgusted with himself that he didn't figure it out sooner, didn't think of it himself, and that he gave Lee such a hard time.

When Morton arrived in the lab he reported to Nelson, "Captain Crane insisted I tell you 'aft of 21'. To say those words, 'aft of 21'."

Nelson replied, "Yes, I figured it out when I heard his announcement. I should have known he had a reason for asking me to get out of the control room, wanting me in the lab. I was a stubborn idiot."

When the Chief checked the upper deck he found Patterson near the top of the spiral stairs. Patterson anxiously told him, "The Skipper never loaded that gun."

"What?"

"I saw him the whole time. He didn't load it."

Now the Chief was really worried. Once the compartments forward of 21 were cleared and the hatches dogged he rushed to the lab to report to Morton.

Back in the control room Hendley and the Skipper were left looking at each other. Each had determination and a gun but Hendley the deadly gas. Fortunately Crane had guessed correctly that Hendley would not kill the whole crew and wouldn't stop them getting to safety. Once he had gotten the Admiral to leave the men were in the clear.

Hendley said to Crane, "How do you know I won't gas you all?"

"You wouldn't do that to the families of my men."

"You understand?"

"No. I just know you wouldn't do that to other families."

"Why did you insist that the Admiral get out if it's your crew you are most concerned about?"

"I wanted him safe. Once he was out of your gun sights, I knew you would let my men leave in safety."

"Why not just let me shoot him, and get this all over with?"

Then, in the tension of the moment, an unspoken truth was uttered for the first time confounding even the speaker with its veracity. "He's my brother."

A pause then, "Ah … so when the advance team came?"

"They didn't touch him."

"It was you?"

"Yes."

Hendley reapplied the safety on the gas canister. "There, the gas is on safety. From what I've heard, if it was you, you were badly hurt … ah, your arm? You must want revenge. Why don't you shoot me now?"

"It's not necessary and I don't want your blood on my hands. You didn't lift your hand against me."

"But I made it possible."

"Yes, you did, but 'Revenge is like a rolling stone … '" The Captain's voice was strained, "I want this to end here, now."

"What are you waiting for?"

"For you to give up."

Hendley scoffed and shook his head. "No, Captain. So it's a game of chicken. Who backs down first?"

They waited, neither wanting to shoot, eyes locked on each other.

Forward of 21 was one of the scenarios in the playbook that sent lethal gas into the forward parts of the boat. Down in his lab Nelson figured he could do better than kill the two men in the control room. Lee had changed the name and said Aft of 21. He knew Lee figured he could do better too.

They stood waiting. Crane was struggling with some severe discomfort now. Until the men were out of the control room he didn't feel it. Once the men were out and safe he started feeling pain again as well as an overwhelming weakness. A cold sweat broke out. There'd been too much adrenaline the past two weeks; it was exhausting. Now it was becoming difficult to handle himself. He swayed slightly and leaned against the periscope island railing.

Hendley alert, in apparent concern, said, "Captain you don't look well,"

Crane sagged against the rail even more but kept the gun up. "No, I'm not feeling great, Hendley." He exhaled audibly. He looked like he could barely stand.

"I didn't mean for you to be hurt in all this."

"Didn't cha?" His voice had an odd timbre; one occasionally heard when he asked a question without hope of a favourable reply, but needed the answer.

"No, I guess I didn't think that out."

Crane attempted to reply but he could not. He blinked and tried to speak again. Nothing. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him anymore. He couldn't seem to control it. He felt his body sliding against the railing … sliding … felt his legs collapsing under him. His arms dropped. He couldn't hold the gun; it tumbled from his hand clattering on the deck. He couldn't lift his arm to break the fall. All thought stopped. He pitched forward to hit the deck.

Hendley stepped over to him cautiously. Crane appeared to be unconscious. Hendley didn't trust appearances and crouched down to pick up the gun. There he paused, his hand extended but not picking up the gun. He rolled forward onto the deck out cold himself.

* The Sky's on Fire