by

Jane L. Daffron

 

The moon hung brightly in the sky, its silvery rays almost seeming to touch the nearest stars surrounding it. The stars appeared brighter that night in June, maybe because it was warm, or maybe because there was little residual light that could be seen from the city 20 miles in the distance...but for whatever reason, Karen Davis Nelson kept looking up at the full moon as she clung to her husband’s arm while they walked along the water’s edge. This was their special time together...on their ‘special beach’ about five miles south of the Nelson Institute of Marine Research. Admiral Harriman Nelson, director of the Nelson Institute, looked at his wife as they made their way to a small secluded spot near an outcropping of boulders jutting out into the sea. A small campfire lit up the immediate area with its amber glow near where a blanket had been spread atop the sand and a late evening picnic had been consumed. This place was special. He had proposed to her here, almost in this exact spot. Tonight was special, though. He had to leave tomorrow for a trip to Washington.

Settling down on the blanket and pouring champagne into each one of the two glasses from the basket, she looked at her husband of little more than a year. His reddish brown hair seemed to be softened by the firelight and his bright blue eyes took on a more subdued tone. He wasn’t exactly pleased with having to leave her, the Institute, or the Seaview at this time. Nelson had been contacted by the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) as well as NIS (Naval Investigative Services) about the possibility of working with the DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency) for a while in their quest for an offshore underwater drug laboratory.

So tonight, Karen and Harriman had come down to the beach to have some peace and quiet before he left for Washington.

"You know, I wish ONI could’ve found someone else to handle this," she told him as she handed him the glass of champagne.

"Well, they usually have the Coast Guard or some of the regular Navy cutters handle this. They’ve also been using AWACs planes off a couple of the carriers to track the smugglers. Apparently they’ve gotten wind of something being done underwater and that’s why they want Seaview," he replied, accepting the glass from her. "You know, we’ve never been asked to find a drug laboratory before."

She smiled at him. His mind was geared toward scientific research, not the harsh realities of today’s modern evils. Not that he was ignorant to what was going on the rest of the world, but if it didn’t include scientific research in the areas of marine biology or oceanography, Harry tended to push it out of his mind...sort of like being on one track.

"I still don’t like it, but I guess if the DEA is asking ONI’s help then..."

"Shhhh...I know, I don’t like it either...but...this is the price I have to pay, remember?" he said with a slight grin as he leaned back on the blanket and gently pulled her down with him. "However, we DO have tonight and I do have to leave at 0600 tomorrow...so..."

She snuggled against him and placed her head on his chest. A little over a year ago she had become his wife. . . And life had never been the same since. She hadn’t been aboard Seaview as much lately, coming aboard occasionally to consult with Chip Morton on the day to day activities of the DWD teams. Her recent research into new diving equipment had kept her extremely busy at the Institute. This past year had actually been quite hectic. Karen had hoped that once they were married that her life with him would settle down into a bit more predictable routine, not really changing much from that of before; however, nothing at the Nelson Institute was ever routine. And then there were these occasional ‘jobs’ for ONI.

"Hmmmm, well, then, sir...what shall we do since you won’t be home for a couple of days?" she asked innocently, as her fingers lightly caressed his chest. Her hand started a slow and methodical brushing of his shirt, her fingers starting to play with the buttons. His free hand lifted her head slightly and he bent to kiss her. One thing had definitely not changed since they married. His hands proceed to the buttons on her silk blouse. God, how he wanted her!

"You know I’ll be back day after tomorrow."

Karen looked into those steel blue eyes and smiled wickedly, "That’s two days too long, Harry. Besides, I do remember that this place has a special significance."

He had become accustomed to his wife’s innuendoes. Karen could be totally wicked sometimes, while outwardly projecting total calm and control. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. There were times aboard Seaview when she would be conversing with one of her team and simply look over at him with an air of total innocence and it would drive him up the wall. He was completely in love with her and she knew it.

"And what may that be, Mrs. Nelson?" he asked with a slight smile on his lips and with a total air of innocence himself.

"Why, Suh! I do declare!" she feigned disbelief with an overdose of southern accent. "You have dishonored me! You don’t remember that it was here that you proposed after you made love to me?...Suh, you insult me greatly!" and then turned her mouth downward in a fake pout.

Harry almost started to laugh but caught himself. He knew it was her way of teasing him. Her accent was overblown and outrageous...just what she meant it to be. Smiling at her, he gently and slowly unbuttoned one button after another, revealing her low-cut bra and breasts to the cool night air. As he slowly and passionately kissed her, his hand played with one nipple that had hardened from exposure. Before he knew it, she had pulled the black uniform tie from around his shirt, tossed it to the side and had started to unbutton his shirt, when she felt herself being stirred by his actions. It was getting hard for her to concentrate because of what he was doing to her, but she was determined that he was going to ‘suffer’ the same fate as she. His mouth covered one breast, his tongue teasing the nipple and sending shock waves through her. His hand continued downward and sought out the very thing that he knew would drive her insane. Shifting her weight and turning toward him, her hands wandered downward as well. Before too long, she had loosened his belt, giggling because he kept trying to break her concentration. She then grabbed a second blanket, pulled it over them and snuggled back into his arms.

"Why, Mrs. Nelson, what are you trying to do?" he jokingly asked her as she gently pushed him back down and then came astride him.

In the same thick southern accent as before, she answered, "Why, Suh, I’m only trying to seduce my husband." And with that, she bent over and kissed him slowly and passionately, her body moving rhythmically with his. His hands made their way down her back and then back up again as she met each of his movements with her one of her own. Soon, their own needs were met as each took their respective pleasures with the other.

Later, as they lay together under the blanket and looking up at the stars, he was pointing out the different constellations to her and simply enjoying the closeness of the moment. They would soon have to go back to the Institute and he would have to pack for the long trip the next day.

"I wish you didn’t have to make this trip. Why couldn’t the local DEA office just send someone over here and brief you here?" she told him as she lay her head back against the crook of his arm and pulled the blanket up around her.

"I don’t know. All I do know is that they have some people flying in from El Paso for the meeting. Apparently, they’ve got some kind of intelligence installation there. Keeps tabs on planes and ships from what I understand. I’d prefer not to go, either, but..."

"But when ONI calls, you have to answer...Yes...I know. "

He shifted his weight and turned to face her. His hand went to her hair and he pulled her gently to him. "Well, if we can help put some major drug players out of business, then at least we’ll help to put a dent in their pocketbook."

She raised her head slightly and looked straight into his steel blue eyes. "You amaze me, Harry. I thought you weren’t keeping up with what went on in the rest of the world outside of marine biology and oceanography."

"Oh, but I do keep current, Mrs. Nelson. I even had some suggestions as to how we could utilize the FS-1 for the underwater surveillance...and how your DWD teams could be put to good use as well. Now.... Let’s forget about it for a bit, shall we? I don’t want to have an argument about it here, while we’re in this...ah.... Condition," he smiled and said.

"Why, Harriman Nelson! I do declare!" she laughed. "You know, we really do need to get home. You have to pack and as much as I’d love to spend the night here, our bed is much more comfortable."

"You’re right, of course. It’s just so peaceful here." He bent down a bit and softly kissed her. "I too often forget that the simplest things can be the most wonderful."

They watched as the fire slowly died down, its flames going from a roaring height to almost smoldering embers, and him cradling her in his arms. Shortly, they started to gather their things and then they headed back to the car. As he placed the blankets and the picnic basket in the trunk, she walked over to the edge of the road and stood looking out at the sea. Coming up from behind, he put his arms around her waist and rested his chin lightly on her shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?" he whispered in her ear.

"About the people who make this poison and the ones that distribute it. Harry, as much as I hate you getting involved with ONI again, this is one time that I have to say that I agree with them asking for your help."

He looked at the horizon as the stars seemed to brighten against the blackness of the sky.

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean, Karen. I think that for the first time, I want Seaview and the Institute to get involved, and I actually don’t mind going, except that I have so much going on here right now...and I’d have to leave you."

She turned and faced him. They had never been separated for long periods of time during the first year of their marriage. This trip to Washington was one time that Karen did not mind it. She took her hand and softly brushed a piece of hair from his brow and then tenderly kissed him.

"Harry, just do me one favor, okay?" she smiled, and then with an amused tone in her voice said, "Fly by Smithfield and pick up a Virginia ham. I’d like to cook one for Caitlin when she comes home."

"Fly by Smithfield, huh...and is there anything else that you would want to go with that?" he asked with a slight grin on his face.

"Well, now that you ask, we are kind of low on bottles of StingRay..." she replied, referring to a favorite Bloody Mary mix that was made on the eastern shore of Virginia.

He roared in laughter. "I’ll see what I can do. Now, let’s get back to the Institute."

"Yes, sir, Admiral, sir," she pointedly replied with a soft smile. Karen turned and walked back to the car and got in. Nelson joined her, then backed the car up and turned onto the paved portion of the road leading back toward the Institute. Approaching the main security gate, they stopped and showed their IDs (yes, even he had to follow the same procedures as everyone else), then drove directly to their home at the other end of the grounds. It was a large brick home atop a knoll overlooking the ocean. Once inside, she headed for the shower as he packed his bags and briefcase. He was in the middle of packing his clothes when she came out with his bathrobe on and her hair up underneath a towel. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she unwrapped the towel and slowly started to comb out her hair. It was almost 2400 hours and they were both quite tired. Watching him as he packed, she propped herself up against the headboard of the bed and continued to comb out the tangles. He put 3 changes of uniforms in a suit bag and then started to pack some ‘civilian’ clothing as well as his toiletries.

"What do you think they’ll want Seaview to do, Harriman?"

"From what Bill Johnson said, they want the full use of the Seaview and her tracking equipment, as well as the Flying Sub...and they want your DWD teams as well."

"Well, if that be the case, don’t you think that I ought to be in on the planning? After all, I head up the DWD team."

"When that does come up, I will insist that you be brought in. However, for now, I simply want to see what they want and what they’ve found."

"Fine!...Now, sir, if you’re about through, I’d like to turn out the lights and get some sleep," she grinned at him and turned out her lamp. "You plum near tuckered me out, husband."

"Hmmmmm, now that would be a first, wife!" he replied as he briefly kissed her on the forehead and then resumed his packing. He finished within about 10 minutes and then changed clothes. After turning out the last remaining light, he got into bed and she snuggled in beside him.

"Harry, for what it’s worth, I totally agree with your decision to involve the Institute. The only thing I’m worried about is that some of the drug lords are not nice people. In fact, they make the General look like a Sunday school teacher," she told him, referring to the right wing militia head who kidnapped him about two years before. "Just be careful."

"Always, Karen. Always. Now go to sleep, all right?" and with that, he smiled and kissed her and they both settled down to try and get some rest.

 

 

At 0600 the next morning, Nelson took off in the FS-1 from the docking bay facility near where Seaview was moored. His destination was the Office of Naval Intelligence at the Pentagon in Washington, DC. As he flew over the Potomac River, approaching from the Virginia side of Washington, he was given clearance to land at a special docking facility near the 14^th Street Bridge. A car was waiting to take him to Rear Admiral William Johnson’s office, the current head of ONI, within the Pentagon complex.

Harriman Nelson was ushered into Admiral Johnson’s office at approximately 1000 hours. Already present was Norman Thompson, assistant head of the DEA, the assistant director of the FBI, Walter Michaels, and Vice-Admiral Thomas Ames, head of the Naval Investigative Services. Johnson made all the obligatory introductions and then the men sat down at the conference table on the other side of Johnson’s office.

"Harry, first off, we all want to thank you for agreeing to volunteer Seaview and the Institute’s research facilities for this ‘mission.’ I understand that Norman’s got some valuable information that will make your end of this just a little easier. Norman?"

Thompson stood up and turned on the VCR that connected to a large screen TV. Images of a rather large drug seizure coupled with a still image of several men standing next to several hundred ‘bricks’ of what would later be explained to be solid cocaine.

"Gentlemen, what you’re seeing is the recent seizure that was made near San Diego that came from an oil tanker. Now, with the help of the Navy’s AWAC’s tracking systems, we followed that tanker from the time it left port until the time it tied up at the San Diego docks. The interesting thing was we know for a fact that it was empty of cocaine when it left Columbia, but this was what was seized shortly after it docked. No other ships came close to it, but yet the drugs somehow got aboard. There were no submarines, no buoys, nothing...but the drugs were there. Our theory is that there is an underwater lab somewhere in the area and they transported the stuff to the ship from there."

"Admiral Nelson, we’d like you and Seaview to help us find that lab and put it out of commission permanently. Your tracking equipment is the most sophisticated in the world, surpassing even that of the regular Navy. Your Flying Sub could be used in tracking the underwater movements of any divers going from the facility to surface ships waiting for their loads...and we would like to enlist the aid of your Deep Water Diving teams to enter and to capture any personnel inside before we destroy it."

Vice Admiral Ames turned to Nelson and addressed him. "Harry, I know that the DWD teams are under the command of your wife. Do you think she’d be agreeable to this mission?"

"Tom, Karen already knows that the teams are to be activated for this and she’s in total agreement. But.... in all fairness...she should be in on any planning that involves them. She built that team and is total control of it. It’s up to her as to whether they dive or not," Harry told him. Karen had always insisted that every precaution, every possible element be known about a mission before they would undertake a dive. Her team was highly specialized and highly trained; even Harriman himself had rarely argued with her (except for one time, unsuccessfully at that) with regards to the team making a dive.

"Very well...I think that’s fair. We’ll set up a meeting the closer we get to the time. Right now, we don’t even know where it is much less how deep it is. We’d also like to get someone aboard one of these freighters. Now that’s where your Captain Lee Crane comes in, Harry. Crane has done jobs for ONI before but these smugglers are a different lot. We’d like to use him on the inside," Ames remarked. "I understand he’s fluent in Spanish...That’s good...He’s going to need it."

Nelson looked at the men around the conference table. "You want to put Crane undercover aboard one of the freighters, you want the DWD teams to capture and help destroy the lab, and you want Seaview’s tracking equipment to find it for you." He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and then grinned slightly. "Is there anything else you want us to do for you, gentlemen?"

Johnson coughed slightly. He knew the point Nelson was trying to make. The DEA wanted him to do what they hadn’t been able to accomplish themselves. He knew Harriman Nelson well and knew that he would help in any way he possibly could, but at the same time, Johnson also knew that Nelson would under no circumstances stand for himself, his crew, or the Institute to be used or treated in a condescending manner...and Nelson wanted them to know from the very beginning that just because NIMR and Seaview weren’t regular military, they could not, and would not, be pushed around.

Thompson looked a little perturbed at Nelson’s comment. He had always hated having to work with the military. Their rigid structure and total adherence to chain of command rubbed him the wrong way. He knew Nelson’s history...Admired him in a way...However, he was still military and, even though he was retired, he still commanded respect for himself and his people.

"Admiral, I can assure you that the DEA is quite capable of finding this lab on its own; however, the problem’s the depth and the total ability to effectively take it out. Your people are, unarguably, far better equipped to do what needs to be done...and from what I have hear about Mrs. Nelson’s DWD teams, they’re exactly what we need to take out this lab," Thompson remarked, trying to smooth ruffled military feathers.

"Mr. Thompson, I totally believe that your agency is perfectly capable of handling this. And as for the DWD teams, you will have to deal with Captain Karen Davis. Whether they dive or not is entirely her call. Not mine," Nelson stressed to him. For some odd reason, he didn’t like Norman Thompson. His appearance was a total antithesis of what the head of a major government agency should be...not that it should make any difference. Harry dealt with unusual characters every day. In fact, some of the scientists at the Institute were a bit odd at times. He knew that this was a different day and age where civilian politician types were concerned. But there was just something about Thompson that he didn’t like.

"I’ll remember that, Admiral, when I meet her. I’ve been told she’s quite a lady."

"Yes, she is, Mr. Thompson...She truly is...I’m very lucky to be her husband. Now...if we can get back to the question at hand...when do you want to put Crane undercover?"

"As soon as possible, Admiral. We have information that a freighter, the El Zanzibar will put to sea in one week. If we can get him down there by tomorrow, we’ll have time to get him aboard as one of the crew. The AWACs will track them and mark their position when they stop for the underwater pickup." Thompson explained to him. "Our plan is NOT to seize that ship. We want it strictly for intelligence purposes. The shipment itself we’ll track and seize at a shortly later time. The information that Crane will gather for us would be invaluable. Contacts...times...positions, etc. All information that we couldn’t get otherwise. We need to know the exact position where the ships stop for loading and how they do it. Crane can get this for us."

"Where are all of your agents, Mr. Thompson? They’re the ones trained in this kind of intelligence gathering," Nelson inquired. He was, if fact, very interested in having that question answered.

Thompson looked a bit flustered at having to explain himself. No one questioned his people, least of all some retired admiral that some people considered ‘eccentric’.

"Admiral, unfortunately, the cartels know a lot of my people. Hazard of the trade, I guess. We keep trying to stay a step ahead of them, but it’s not always possible. They won’t suspect Crane...He’s not known to them...and even if they were to ‘make’ him, he has no ties to us, only you."

"Doesn’t that make your ‘intelligence’ gathering a misnomer, Mr. Thompson?" Ames asked with a slight sneer in his voice. It was clear that there were others in the group that shared Nelson’s dislike of the DEA agency representative.

Johnson immediately saw what was beginning to happen and decided to call a halt to the meeting and break for lunch.

"Gentlemen, I suggest we break for lunch. It’s 1200 now, so let’s be back here around 1330. Harry...you, Tom, and I need to see the CNO before lunch," he told them. The meeting adjourned and Michaels and Thompson both left together. The three admirals, now alone in Johnson’s office, sat looking at one another. Johnson knew that Ames and Nelson had an automatic dislike of Thompson.

"Bill, why on earth did you ever get involved with the likes of Thompson?" Ames asked him. "NIS has been doing quite well combating drug running."

"I know that, Tom, but the CNO felt that we needed to be ‘sharing the wealth’ so to speak. And they have been using our AWACs off a couple of the carriers. Listen, don’t let Thompson rub you the wrong way. He comes across as a sleaze and an arrogant SOB, but his reputation and history is impeccable. He does know what he’s talking about, believe it or not." Bill Johnson sat down behind his desk and invited his two old friends to sit across from him. "Now, what would you two like for lunch? We can go out or have it brought in here."

The three men laughed and decided to take a car across Interstate 395 to what was referred to as Crystal City, a part of Arlington, Virginia. A small Italian restaurant that barely sat 30 - 40 patrons was selected and the three men chose their meals and then sat back to talk casually. Each knew that the wrong people might overhear any conversation of what had been discussed previously.

"Well, Harry, how’s it feel to be an old married man?" Ames asked him with a slight laugh.

Nelson took a drink of his coffee and looked at the two men, both of whom had attended his wedding the year before.  "Gentlemen, I’m just sorry that I didn’t do this long before now," he replied, smiling.

"Tom, you know, I think Harry here is getting too ‘domesticated’. What do you think?" Johnson laughed as he sat back in his chair.

"With Karen Davis as his wife?! Are you kidding? No way!" Ames said, then turning to face Nelson, he stated, "I heard what she did to get you out of that militia camp, Harry. There’s some scuttlebutt that she took out the whole camp. Is that true?"

Nelson’s facial expression slightly changed and he became strangely quiet and reflective. "Tom, that’s something I’d rather not discuss. Let’s just say that she got the job done and he won’t be doing it to anyone ever again."

"Sorry, Harry. I forgot what that madman did to you," Ames apologized.

Johnson saw the effect the question had on his old friend and decided to change the subject.  "So...Harry...married life seems to agree with you. That was quite a wedding you two had, I must say. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like what your crew managed to pull off with the church aisle, either. That was quite impressive."

Nelson relaxed and smiled, reflecting on the wedding the year before. "Ahhh . . .The ‘white aisle’...Actually I had no idea that was going to happen. It turned out that my stepdaughter and a couple of the crew were the instigators of that. Yes, that was...impressive. Actually, I’m still amazed that Karen actually managed to get me and my senior staff into those formal dress whites."

The three men laughed and continued the jovial remarks until their lunches arrived. Light conversation centering on family, work, and recent discoveries dotted their lunch. After finishing up, they then headed back for the remainder of the meeting. Upon arrival back at the Pentagon, they again met with Thompson and Michaels. The five men sat back down at the conference table and Thompson began with a hard lesson in reality for the military men. They were about to get a little lesson on illegal drugs and the world of drug smuggling.

"Gentlemen, the DEA, in cooperation with 15 other federal agencies, runs and maintains an intelligence center in El Paso, Texas. It is commonly referred to as ‘EPIC’, or El Paso Intelligence Center. It was established to collect, process and disseminate intelligence information concerning illegal drug and currency movement, alien smuggling, weapons trafficking, and other related activity. The member agencies include the DEA, INS, Customs, the Coast Guard, ATF, the FAA, the US Maritime Service," Thompson explained, and, with a nod to Michaels, continued, "the FBI, the Secret Service, State Department, Department of the Interior, CIA, the Defense Intelligence Agency, and the Department of Defense, of which ONI and NIS are a part of. EPIC’s primary focus centers on drug trafficking along the Southwest boarder of the United States, but it also collects and analyzes tactical drug intelligence from other areas, including foreign countries, whose drug activities impact directly on this country."

He looked around the table at the three admirals and smiled inwardly at the impact his words were starting to make. Give these sailor boys something to think about. Let’s see how they like the next phase. Taking a drink of water, he reached for dry marker and wrote some figures on the white ‘black board’ behind the table. Looking around, he continued.

"In the first five months of 1996, 27 trafficker aircraft were seized in Columbia under Operation Skyweb, a Colombian initiative where their authorities, with DEA support, execute airport inspections to identify aircraft smuggling cocaine along the Peru-Colombian cocaine air corridor.

"Operation Jetway was an EPIC-supported domestic airport interdiction program that contributed to the following seizures in our own nation’s airports in 1996 - 2,615 kilograms of cocaine, 64 kilograms of heroin, 32,867 kilograms of marijuana, 171 kilograms of methamphetamine, 45 firearms, and over 43 million dollars in currency and other monetary instruments. And for your information, gentlemen, the DEA trained over 1,300 State law enforcement personnel under that program.

"Operations Pipeline and Convoy, were both highly successful EPIC-supported national highway interdiction programs which had a significant impact on the domestic movement of drugs and drug-related currency, seizing 9,899 kilos of cocaine, 65 kilos of heroin, 113,474 kilos of marijuana, 314 kilos of methamphetamine, 302 weapons, and over 42 million dollars in currency and other assets. And these stats are nearly three years old. We haven’t had time to compile the most recent ones yet."

He looked at Johnson, Ames, and Nelson. Clearly there was a look of awe, disbelief, and dismay on their faces.  "Gentlemen, the cartels are getting stronger, not weaker; a bit smarter, not dumber at smuggling. They’re coming up with new ways every day to thwart our intelligence and interdiction teams. That’s why, Admiral Nelson, we need Crane and the Seaview. We have received word that specially built and equipped freighters are leaving Columbia en route to the US. When they leave, they’re empty, of cocaine that is. They are full of other things...perfectly legit cargo...but they stop for a few hours in international waters, then start up again. When they dock, they off load their legit cargo along with a couple of tons of pure coke. We’ve managed to intercept a shipment, and just by chance, mind you. The coke is extremely high-grade stuff...purer than anything we’ve seen in a long time. Wherever they’re cooking this stuff up, it’s got to be where they can do it undisturbed and have access to high-grade chemicals. We know it’s not on the ship when it leaves port, but it IS on it when it comes in to dock. The only reasonable assumption is there’s an undersea lab and transfer point."

Nelson swiveled his chair and looked at the map. Studying it intently, he asked, "Do you have an idea as to where the lab might be located?"

Thompson got up and stood beside the map. Pointing to an area about 250 miles off the boarder of California and Mexico, he replied, "Yes, we think it’s roughly in this area. Satellites, however, haven’t been able to pick up a thing. Apparently, either the lab’s too deep for it to show up or they’ve got it well hidden. That’s why we need Seaview and her DWD team. The area’s too deep for conventional divers and craft. These people must be living down there for long periods of time. We don’t even know how they’re being shuttled down or how or where they’re coming up."

"Well, if they’re down there, we’ll find them," Nelson told him. He was convinced now that Seaview had to be in on this. The figures were staggering. He just hadn’t realized that the drug situation was as bad as what it was. Maybe he had been insulated way too long in his own little world of scientific research and this had proven to be a real wake up call.

"Good, Admiral. I’m glad we can count on the Institute to help. If you’ll inform Crane as soon as possible, we can brief him and get him on the inside ASAP. I’ll be honest with you, sir, this is not going to be easy. I know he’s used to dealing with an entirely different sort of ‘espionage’ but believe me, unfortunately, this is fast becoming the espionage of the 21^st century," Thompson remarked, with some relief. Obviously he had made an impression on the man. He still didn’t like working with military types, but somehow, he was beginning to admire and respect Nelson. Thompson had read Nelson’s dossier and was duly impressed. He found him to be a ‘maverick’, ironically, just like himself. Maybe that’s why they were rubbing each other the wrong way. They were too much alike in a lot of ways.

Looking at the clock, Johnson saw that it was now past 1630 hours. They had been at it for nearly 3 hours after return from lunch. In those 3 hours, Thompson had given the men some staggering figures to ponder over that night. They would start back up at 0900 hours the next morning. By that time, hopefully, Lee Crane would be in San Diego at the local DEA office to start his briefing into the world of drug smuggling.

"Gentlemen, I suggest that we call it a day. I’m sure that Harry here needs to get this information to Captain Crane so that he can meet Thompson’s people in San Diego...and I for one want time to digest all this information that Norman has given us. It’s rather...disturbing...in a way. We’ll regroup here at 0900 tomorrow," he told them. Turning to Nelson, he remarked, "Harry, I’d like to talk to you before you leave."

Nelson nodded his acknowledgment and the others got their coats and slowly made their way out the door. Within five minutes, Johnson and Nelson were the only two left in the office.

"What is it, Bill?"

"Sit down, Harry.... Listen, I know Norm Thompson comes on a little strong, but he really does know what he’s talking about. He’s considered to be sort of a loose cannon over at DEA, but he’s also very good at what he does."

"Why are you telling me this, Bill? I don’t have to be convinced. The stats tell the whole picture. I’m just sorry that I wasn’t really aware of what was really going on. My God, Bill, do you realize how much of this crap comes into the country every day?! If we can put even a dent into it, maybe we can do some good," Nelson replied, looking at the charts that Thompson had left up. The figures were simply staggering and overwhelming to him. He never realized...

"Well, I’m glad you feel that way, Harry...‘cause he’s going to be aboard Seaview when you go after the underwater lab."

"He what?!"

"Yep. Look, he’s the mastermind behind all of this, so he wants to be there when the lab goes down. I think it’s only fair."

Nelson hated to have civilian observers aboard when they were on a military mission, and he especially hated other agency observers. However, even he had to admit that this time around, it was more than appropriate.  "Well, as long as he doesn’t get in the way of operations, Bill. And if Karen’s DWD teams are involved, he’d better lay low. She has no tolerance for interference from outsiders."

Johnson laughed when Nelson mentioned his wife. Karen Nelson had a well-earned reputation of her very own with regards to her DWD team.  "Maybe we ought to let him find that one out on his very own, Harry. Might do him some good to be brought down a couple of notches...and your wife is just the one to do it," Johnson chuckled.

The two men laughed and grabbed their coats and hats.

"Harry, can I drop you off at your hotel? Or would you like to come to the house for a good home cooked meal?" Johnson asked as the two men headed out of the office area and proceeded to the parking lot.

"Thanks, Bill, but I’m really tired...and I need to get hold of the Institute. I’ll get a ride over to the Hyatt after I make the calls. I’ll see you back here at 0900 tomorrow."

"Okay, Harry. But Madge is going to be disappointed that you didn’t come home with me. She’s been dying to hear about Karen and your honeymoon. She thinks the world of Karen," Johnson gently slapped Nelson on the back.

"Tell her thanks, Bill, and Karen will be glad to hear that, but I just want to go to the hotel and rest. And room service will be fine tonight. I’ll take a rain check on that home cooked meal, however."

"Your loss, Harry. Well, good night and see you tomorrow, then."

The two men parted company and Nelson headed for the communications section of the Pentagon. He placed a coded video message to the Nelson Institute for Lee Crane. After a wait of about 10 minutes for Angie to track him down, Lee finally got to the videophone for the call from the Admiral.

"Lee, you’re to report to the DEA office in San Diego first thing in the morning. You’re going to be on loan to the DEA for undercover work down in Columbia. They’ll brief you at their office on the mission. We’re going after an undersea drug lab and they need you for intelligence work."

"Will do, Admiral. Well, at least this ought to be different...not the run of the mill ONI work," Crane remarked.

"Well, don’t be fooled by these people, Lee. They’re highly dangerous and won’t think twice about killing you. The drug trade is highly profitable and where money is concerned, they don’t give a damn about a person’s life."

"I’ll remember. Oh, by the way, Karen asked me to remind you about a ham," Lee replied, almost with a laugh.

Nelson chuckled to himself. He hadn’t forgotten about his wife’s request.  "Tell her I’ll remember. And that I’ll call her tonight."

"Will do, sir. Will there be anything else?"

"No, nothing else. Except we’re going to be involved in a massive operation with a multitude of federal agencies." Harriman looked at his Captain. How many times had he sent him into dangerous situations? Now Lee had a young son to think about, too. Was it fair to take Robert’s only surviving parent and put him into danger where he could be killed? Lately, Nelson himself had been thinking more and more about that and trying to put himself in Lee’s place. How would he feel if he had a child and was continually being asked to put himself into danger? Harry knew he’d never be a father, but it didn’t stop him from thinking about Lee and his son. And Lee was the ‘son’ he would never have.

"I’ll let my mother know that she’ll need to take care of Robert while I’m gone. How long do you think it’ll be, Admiral?"

Nelson didn’t hear Lee’s last question. He was too deep in thought.  "Admiral...how long do you think it will take?" Lee asked again. He realized that Nelson hadn’t heard him. His mind was somewhere else.

"Hmmm.... Oh, sorry, Lee...the DEA head that I’ve been meeting with hasn’t given a time line, but it could be several weeks. Tell Helen I’m sorry, but the DEA has specifically requested your help."

"Why, Admiral? Did they say?"

"You’re fluent in Spanish and you’re totally unknown to their ‘prey’. Their field office will brief you on the entire mission as well as give you your cover. I won’t see you when I get back, so be careful. From what I’ve been told, these people get real nasty."

"Yes, sir. I will. Crane out," then the videophone went blank. Nelson thanked the communications section and left to go his hotel in Crystal City.

 

 

After he checked into his suite, Harriman Nelson proceeded to order dinner from room service then went into the bathroom to clean up. He then connected his laptop computer to the room’s dataport and started to check for any mail from the Institute. A recent convert to the laptop, he had found that it was actually useful in transmitting and receiving information from the Institute. In fact, it had been his stepdaughter, Caitlin Davis, that convinced him to start carrying one. Between her and Chip Morton, they outfitted him with the top of the line and programmed it to his own specifications, complete with an encryption program. Caitlin, in fact, had been quite pleased with herself that she had finally gotten him to agree to it.

He found several messages waiting for him, including a couple from his wife and one from his stepdaughter. Opening those first, he found Karen had sent him the latest figures on the diving suit alterations that the Inspector General’s (IG) office of the Federal Bureau of Marine Exploration (FBME) had requested. The IG’s office was questioning expenditures, as they always did, and Karen was providing him with the proof that they were totally legitimate. Another message from her was a light reminder to bring back the articles she had requested. He had to laugh. His wife was adamant about things from her native state. She was a Virginian, through and through, as was her daughter.

The message from Caitlin was more of a technical one. She had just graduated from Virginia Tech and was starting to intern for the summer at the Institute. Come this fall, she would start her graduate work at California Polytechnic Institute in Computer Engineering. He typed his reply and sent it back to her. About that time, his dinner arrived.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he picked up the phone and called the Institute. Remembering the three-hour time difference, he dialed Karen’s lab direct. Figuring she’d be there at that time, he hoped to catch her before she went to their home. However, the phone rang numerous times before one of her assistants answered. He was told that she had already left for the day and could more than likely be found either in her office or at their house. The assistant then transferred him to Karen’s office, where Terri Styles advised him that she had just walked in. Terri in turn transferred the call into her office.

"Hello. How was your flight?"

"Not bad. The weather actually was perfect. DC’s beautiful, as usual."

"Have you checked your e-mail?"

"Yes, I got the message with your figures. I’ll go over them tonight and let you know...and I got your other mail as well. Don’t worry, I’ll bring back the ham and the StingRay," he laughed.

"I thought you’d get a chuckle out of that, Harry."

"Well, I do know how well you like the mix, so I’ll have to go to a gourmet store to get some."

"Go over to the Pentagon City Mall, and if I remember right, there’s one in there."

"Okay, I’ll go tomorrow. I’m a bit tired tonight. I do believe I was up a bit late last night," he teased her, referring to their picnic the night before.

"Why, Harriman Nelson! Are you accusing me of keeping you up too late last night?"

"No...but you did keep me up, now didn’t you?" and he laughed.

"Harry, you’re terrible, you know that? Listen, Caitlin was here earlier and is anxious to talk to you when you get back. It’s about the new computer program for the communications systems."

"Tell her that it may have to wait. This mission may take several weeks to complete. You may want to get your teams on standby. I’ll fill you in when I get back."

"Okay, but you know she doesn’t like to be put off when she’s on to something. Besides, I think she’s had all about she can take recently babysitting Robert Crane and Alex Morton. She’s finding that those two are quite a handful," Karen mused. "Caitlin tends to forget that she was once that age and that she was quite a handful herself."

"My stepdaughter, hard to handle? That’s hard to envision, Karen," he again chuckled.

"Well, she was ‘active’ to say the least. Anyway...hurry home."

"I will, Karen. Be home tomorrow night."

"Okay. See you then. Love you."

"Love you, too."

By the time that Harry finished going over the information that Norman Thompson had left with them, it was close to midnight. It was amazing. The statistics were unbelievable...and it wasn’t only the information on illegal drugs that was staggering. Environmental pollution was a direct by-product of the growth of coca and poppy cultivation. The processing of the coca leaves into coca paste and cocaine has its own damaging effects. Thompson had provided information from the State Department that on a yearly basis, 10 million liters of sulfuric acid, 16 million liters of ethyl ether, 8 million liters of acetone, and from 40 - 770 million liters of kerosene are poured directly into the ground by cocaine processors working in the Andean region, mainly Colombia. The information astounded and shocked him. Illegal drugs, pollution...Where would it all end?

He put aside the information and prepared to go to bed. As he turned out the light, he thought about all that he had heard that day and shook his head in sad acknowledgment that something definitely needed to be done.

 

 

The next day, the five men met again in Johnson’s office. Thompson filled them in on further details of the operation that would be put into place with all of their mutual cooperation. By that time he had received word that Lee Crane had reported to the DEA office in San Diego and was being briefed at that very moment. After a week of ‘indoctrination’ into the drug world, Crane would then be flown down to Buenaventura, Colombia to be worked into the crew of the El Zanzibar. He would manage to obtain work on the freighter and hopefully gain the necessary information that the DEA hoped would lead them to the underwater laboratory. The worst part was that he would very little if any contact with anyone until the ship reached the docks in San Diego. In other words, Lee would be completely on his own. It was risky, totally and without doubt dangerous. No outside contact. But the DEA assured Nelson that this was the only way. They couldn’t risk the possibility of Crane getting caught trying to make contact with anyone, either en route or on board.

The meeting broke at around 1230 hours with each of the five preparing to inform their respective agencies, or in Nelson’s case, the Seaview, of the impending mission. Michaels had advised all present that the FBI would be present to back up any shore side operations with the necessary manpower to make arrests. The NIS, ONI, and the Seaview would be responsible for the operations at sea.

On the way out, Thompson spoke to Nelson separately as he packed up his briefcase.

"Admiral, I’d like to come to the Institute and meet with some of your personnel, particularly those on board the Seaview. I’d also like to meet with your wife, if that would be possible. Since she’s the head of the DWD teams, and I do have to go through her to get the use of the teams, I’d like the chance to meet her and discuss their use."

"Very well, Thompson. If you’d like, you could fly back with me in the FS-1. That way you could meet with her first thing in the morning. We have guest bungalows on the compound grounds that you’d be comfortable in," Nelson told him.

"That’d be fine, Admiral. Tell you what, I’ll meet you at the docking facility around four p.m. I have to go grab some clothes from home and contact my office. With all the rush hour traffic here and on the Beltway, four is the best I can do."

"Fine, then 1600 hours it is." The two men then left Johnson’s office; Thompson headed back to the DEA offices in downtown Washington and Nelson headed to the mall to pick up the items Karen had requested. After arranging for the items to be delivered to the docking area in 2 hours, he decided to walk around the mall for a bit to clear his head.

The meeting of the last two days had really given him something to think about. For all the scientific discoveries that he had made, for all the contributions he and the Institute had made and would make, it seemed small somehow in comparison to the problem of illegal drugs and the trafficking of those drugs. He suddenly found himself in front of a small shop that displayed nautical items. A Ship’s Hatch. Peering in the window, he was surprised to spy a small model replica of the Seaview. Entering the shop, he was a bit surprised to see that all the patrons were women. Picking up the small intricate model, he was intrigued at the precision and caliber of craftsmanship. Deciding to buy the model, he proceeded to the lady at the counter. Directly in front of him were several ladies chattering away about some sort of ‘sci-fi convention’ at the Hyatt Hotel where he was staying.

Maybe that’s why there were some very strange looking people in the lobby.

The lady directly in front of him told the saleswoman that they had driven down from New Jersey to attend and that they were part of a whole contingent of ladies there from all over the country. Nelson patiently waited as the sales clerk wrapped the lady’s purchase and wished her a good day. He smiled pleasantly as the lady and her companion, a young teenage girl, turned and smiled at him.

As he presented the delicate model to the clerk, she remarked, "You know, that’s the only one that we received of the Seaview. Several people have admired it, but no one wanted to pay the price that the artist was asking."

"Well, it’s beautiful workmanship. I’d like the name of the craftsman who did it, if you don’t mind," he replied.

"Of course. He does beautiful work. I’m sure he’d be flattered."

Harriman paid for the model and the lady gently wrapped it, including the artist’s information with it. Handing the package to him, she noted his uniform and remarked, "Is this for your own collection?"

Nelson smiled and replied, "You could say that. Thank you."  Looking at his watch and noting the dwindling time, he made a hasty retreat from the shop and then hailed a taxi to take him to the docking facility.

 

 

Nelson was in the process of stowing away his bags when he was notified that Norman Thompson was requesting permission to come aboard the FS-1. Giving that said permission, Thompson was ferried over and was helped aboard.

"Admiral, I’m impressed. I’ve heard about the FS-1, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen it up close and personal."

"Well, it gets the job done, Mr. Thompson. Here, I’ll show you where you can stow your things."

Harry opened the door to the storage compartment and let him put his things away. In the meantime, he finished the pre-flight checks with the control tower at Reagan National Airport. He would have to gain flight clearance through them prior to take-off from the Potomac Docking Facility. After showing his flight companion how to strap himself into the chair and where the parachute and survival gear were (in case, God forbid, they needed it), Harry powered up the engines and requested take-off instructions. Ten minutes later, the two men were airborne and headed in a southwest direction across the country. Thompson inquired about their ETA to Santa Barbara and after doing a bit of quick computation, Nelson settled on roughly three hours at just below supersonic speed.

"Three hours, huh? Get there just about the time we left DC, I would guess," he mused.

The Admiral was more interested in weather information that was coming in from the National Tower than he was to listening to his guest. The tower had informed him that a large thunderstorm was brewing near the Virginia/Kentucky boarder and that he might want to gain altitude prior to being switched over to the Cincinnati tower. Complying, Nelson took the small craft up another 30,000 feet into a thinner, clearer atmosphere that would in actuality be more conducive for its flying capabilities.

Thompson, in the meantime, took out his notes and addressed Nelson.  "Your man, Crane, has already reported to our office. I think he’d do just fine. My men in San Diego report that his Spanish is excellent and that with a week or so beard growth and a bit dirtying up, he’ll be ready to make his way to Buenaventura. He’s going to be given instructions as to who to contact about getting placed aboard our suspect ship. Once there, he’s on his own."

"How long do you think this whole operation is going to take?" Harry inquired. He was anxious to know because of other commitments that the Institute had. Too long a time would mean the loss of valuable contracts, and money, but he also knew that operations such as the magnitude of this one could not be rushed or people, namely Lee, could possibly lose their lives.

"Well, a week, more or less, to get your man down there and possibly on the boat. Once the boat sails, another week or so from Colombia to the States. Then the hard part comes in. At least another two weeks for you to find the lab, we formulate a plan of attack and execute it. So, all in all, you’re looking at about four weeks minimum."

Nelson pondered his answer for a few moments.

Four weeks...Not bad...We’ve been on missions that lasted much longer than that. But is this reasonable...or simply optimistic?

"Four weeks is definitely a doable timetable if you think that it’s long enough to get you what you want."

"Admiral, we’ve been tracking this route for months. Even put in agents down there to get what information we do have. Problem is, our people get made before we got them on board. Your man Crane is our last hope. The cartel that’s running this show, Miguel Rodriguez and his ‘family’ has extremely loyal contacts. Hopefully, since Crane has no ties whatsoever to our people, they’ll leave him alone or ignore him. That’s why I want him going in looking like he’s just coming off a two week drunken spree. And that’s why I didn’t want him trying to make contact with our people while aboard. Way too dangerous. It could, and possibly would, get him killed. The minute the ship makes port in the US, we watch the off-load, track the shipment and your man ‘disappears’ back into the world of the Seaview. With what he hopefully will learn, we then can track the next ship to the loading point and then find the undersea lab and destroy it."

"What do you intend to do with any of the drugs you confiscate, either on the ship or at the lab? Blow them up? Surely you’re not thinking of simply dumping them in the ocean. The chemicals contained at the laboratory will be highly toxic and have no business being dumped. They have to be handled carefully and correctly."

Thompson turned slightly in his chair to look at Nelson. He fully understood what Nelson was trying to say; however, at this point in time, he was more concerned with the destruction of the lab and its contents than anything else.

"Admiral, I don’t mean to belittle what you’re saying, but our primary and sole objective here is to put this lab out of commission, permanently. By whatever means necessary. Naturally, I’d love to be able to end up with a huge confiscation of the cache of drugs. It’d be a huge PR boost, to say the least. However, I’ll settle for blowing the damn thing sky high."

Nelson glanced over at his companion. Norman Thompson looked like someone that had never left the era of the 1960's. Long hair, neatly tied back in a ponytail coupled with a neat well-trimmed graying beard. He had come up through the ranks of the DEA, first as a regular agent and field operative. He had gone undercover and had almost been killed numerous times. His ‘collars’ brought phrase and notice from the higher ups that at first tolerated the often unorthodox methods he employed. As time, and the administration changed, so did his supervisor’s tolerance of him. The last 15 years had provided him with supervisors and mentors that were a bit more lenient as to his methodology. Large busts of major ‘players’ as the distributors and growers were called, brought more notice and he moved up quickly through the ranks. He adapted in only one way...he started to wear a suit and tie instead of holey jeans, T-shirts and tennis shirts. Thompson became part of the establishment, yet his outward appearance still tweaked the noses of the upper echelon of the administration.

"Mr. Thompson, I admire your tenacity, but if we’re going to do this, it’s going to be done right. All the chemicals in that lab will have to be disposed of properly and if there are any drugs there, if it’s at all possible, they’ll be transported back aboard Seaview. I won’t be part of anything that deliberately pollutes the ocean when it can be definitely avoided."

"Admiral, I . . .."

"Thompson, there’s no negotiation on that point. Do I make myself clear?"

Thompson looked at Nelson and realized that this was not a man he really wanted to tangle with. For all the eccentric reputation that he had, Harriman Nelson was well noted as a man of high principal. And if he had an objection regarding the disposal of the chemicals, maybe he should defer to his experience. Also, the DEA needed Seaview and Nelson to find that lab. And at this point, if he had to make a deal with the devil to find it, he would. And that certainly meant appeasing Nelson.

"Very clear, Admiral. Very clear."

"Good. Now, we’ll be in Santa Barbara in less than two hours. I suggest you enjoy the view. It’s definitely not something you’ll get out the window of a commercial jet liner," Harry told him. "And when we get to the Institute, we’ll come in from the ocean side with an underwater approach. It will be easier for docking."

"I thought this thing docked inside your sub somehow."

"Normally it does. But we keep it outside Seaview when we’re docked at the Institute. It’s easier that way. At the present time, the crew’s on extended liberty and is due back within the next week. I see no reason to call them back any sooner."

"When can I meet with Mrs. Nelson? I’m really interested in her take on the deployment of her team and how she might execute the procedure."

Nelson looked at his watch and remarked, "Well, considering the time, you might just catch her in her diving lab. However, if not, then I assume that you’ll be able to get up with her first thing in the morning. She’s usually there around 0900.  And a word to the wise, Mr. Thompson.  Professionally, her name is Captain Davis."

"Ah…yes, sir…I’ll remember that.  Well, I look forward to meeting her. You know, your wife has quite a reputation on her own. I’ve studied her dossier. Quite impressive."

"I’m reasonably sure she’d find that quite amusing, Thompson. She’s not one to..."

"...want publicity or notoriety? I assumed that from the information. Although what she did to that militia camp was a bit over the top, wasn’t it?"

"Mr. Thompson, that is a subject not open in anyway for discussion. I will ask...no, I will demand...that you not bring it up. To anyone."

Thompson suddenly saw that he had it a very sensitive nerve in the Admiral. He had heard of the rescue mission and had heard from some contacts in the FBI about the tape showing what the ‘General’ had done to Nelson. He later heard, confidentially, what Karen Davis Nelson had done to rescue the man who was at that time her commanding officer and who would later become her husband. She had totally eradicated the entire compound and killed its leader. The ‘official’ report was that the ‘General’ was killed while trying to escape...but he had also heard that she deliberately killed him for what he had done to Nelson. Regardless of which version was true, Thompson decided that she was most definitely not someone to be on the wrong side of.

"I’m sorry, sir, if it brings back painful memories. I was just..."

"I know that, but it’s not open for discussion," Nelson testily remarked.

"Yes, sir."

An uneasy silence prevailed for the remainder of the trip. Shortly, the Pacific Ocean came into view and Nelson started his downward approach. They were roughly 10 minutes away from the Institute when he zipped out over the ocean and turned back inland. Thompson watched as the altitude got lower and lower and the bright blue Pacific grew bigger with each passing second. Within about 5 minutes, the FS-1 was barely 500 feet above the water when Nelson started a downward angle of descent. At first Norman thought they were going to crash nose first into the water considering that Nelson was pointing the nose of the little craft toward the ocean surface. He shielded his eyes the minute the craft hit the water and then slowly opened them, finding that, instead of being broken to little pieces, he could look out the bow windows and glimpse large fish of many different species swimming by as they found their way to the underwater docking facility at the Institute.

Upon docking, Harry performed shutdown procedures and a member of the docking area personnel cracked the topside hatch. As the two men removed their belongings, Nelson told Thompson that he would have one of the personnel there escort him to a guest bungalow and then he would check on him in a couple of hours.

After both men had exited the FS-1 and gone their separate ways, Nelson looked at his watch and headed to his office. He surmised that Angie had gone home by this time but he just wanted to check his messages and appointments for the next few days. As he looked through the messages, he picked up the phone and called Karen’s office. There were two rings of the phone and then a female voice answered.

"Hello."

"Hello, yourself. I’m back in my office."

"Ahhh, you just got back then. I checked a while ago and you were still a ways out. I’ll be right there. Just stay put."

"Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere."

He heard the phone click off and then hit the ‘off’ button for the speaker. About 5 minutes later, Karen walked into his office. She walked over to him, put her arms around him, and kissed him deeply and slowly.

Breaking the embrace some minutes later, Harry looked at his wife with a slight grin and said, "I’m definitely going to have to go away and come back more often."

Karen kissed him softly and then remarked, "Well, sir, there’s more that came from." She hugged him and then hooked her arm through his. "So tell me about this DEA guy you brought back with you."

"Hmmm, looks like the grapevine travels fast. Well, then...yes, I did bring back company. He’s over in guest Bungalow One. Name’s Norman Thompson and, yes, he’s from the DEA. He also wants to talk to you in the morning about the DWD team and their use in this operation." He turned around and picked up his briefcase and his suit bag as she opened the door to the outer office.

"Well, I’m not committing the team to anything until I get every available piece of information on this lab. I hope you stressed that."

They walked out of the office together and down the corridor to the front of the building. It was a beautiful warm June night. As they strolled down the walkway toward the large brick home on the knoll at one end of the complex, he told her, "I did tell him that he had to deal with you with regards to the team. Bill Johnson seems to think that you might just find Thompson a bit arrogant. Oh, and he also said that his wife was extremely disappointed that I didn’t come to dinner last night because she thinks the world of you."

They approached the door of their home when a dark blue Jeep Wrangler drove up. Pulling into a parking space beside a red Jeep Grand Cherokee, the occupant, a young blonde haired woman, bounded out and walked over to Karen.

"Mom! I was wondering when you were going to get home. HN, glad you’re home. I’ve got a ton of things I need to go over with you," Caitlin Davis excitedly said. She hugged her mother and then gave her stepfather a big hug also.

"Caitlin, slow down, will you? He just got home. And, for your information, I’ve been between the lab and the office. You could have gotten hold of me at either place."

"Mom, I tried, but you must have been in between. Besides, I’ve been looking for Lee. Have you seen him? I promised Mrs. Crane that I would help take care of Robert so that she could do some errands and I needed to ask him about something."

Harriman looked at Karen and with a small silent movement of his head, Karen knew not to say anything about Crane’s whereabouts to her daughter.

"Honey, Lee’s going to be out of town for several weeks. That’s why Helen has Robert right now. And I’m sure that she could use the extra help once in a while," her mother quietly said.

"Oh, great. Just great! Now what am I going to do?" her daughter exclaimed in exasperation.

"Caitlin, what exactly is the matter? Is something wrong with Robert? He’s okay, isn’t he?" Karen inquired, concerned at her daughter’s attitude.

"No, it’s just that...well…Robert has started playing with my computer and I thought that since he seems to love it, I’d bring over one of my old ones that I’m not using anymore for him to play with. You know, load some games on it and start teaching him how to use it."

"Well, I think that’s a great idea and, personally, I can’t see why Lee would object to it."

As the three of them walked into the house, Nelson placed his briefcase on a chair in the living room.  God, it’s good to be home. He glanced over at the two women, mother and daughter, as they stood talking. Smiling to himself, he asked himself silently how he managed to get so lucky.  "Caitlin, why would you need to speak to Lee about Robert and the computer? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind," Harriman off-handedly remarked.

"Well...I sort of went ahead and promised Robert that he could have it. Then I figured I’d really better ok it with Lee. Robert is such a bright little kid that he’s picked up on a whole lot of things already. The way I figure it, the sooner he starts on it, the better he will be at it. After all, Mom started me when I was around Robert’s age, didn’t you, Mom?" she explained, her tone of voice excited but yet serious.

"Yes, Caitlin, I did. I didn’t want you scared of them the way I was...and look what it’s done to you. Frankly, I think it’s a great idea. You’ve got a couple of old ones that he could bang away on and if he spills something on it or breaks it, then there’s very little lost," Karen agreed. "Now, if you don’t mind, I’m starved, and I’m sure that both of you all are, so let’s see what we can have for dinner."

The three of them headed for the kitchen and in short order had a full meal cooked and on the table. Afterwards, as Caitlin cleared away the dishes after they had eaten, there was a loud knock at the door. Since she was already away from the table, she answered the door. Just a few seconds later, she reappeared in the dining room.

"HN, there’s a gentleman at the door for you. He says his name’s Norman Thompson."

Nelson immediately got up and went to the door. Showing Thompson in, he then called Karen into the living room.  "Karen, I’d like for you to meet Norman Thompson. He’s the gentleman who came back with me this evening."

Thompson immediately extended his hand to her. "Captain Davis…or should I call you Mrs. Nelson since we’re in your home? Either way, I’d delighted to meet you. I apologize for coming by this evening, but I wanted to get things started."

Karen scrutinized the 40ish man in front of her. Dressed in jeans, an open collar white shirt, and tennis shoes, he didn’t look too bad. She did note, with a certain amount of amusement, that he had a ponytail and one earring in his left earlobe. Not your typical Washington bureaucrat. He was about 6 feet in height, she judged, with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes. He obviously kept himself in pretty good physical shape and he had a nice smile. There was something familiar about the accent but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Southern, but softer, not extreme.

She smiled slightly as he took her hand and shook it.  “Actually, at the office, it’s Davis…but here, depending on the circumstances, it’s Nelson.  Won’t you join us? We’ve just finished dinner and we were going to have some coffee and dessert," she offered. "However, business will have to keep until tomorrow."

"Mrs. Nelson, your husband has told me that you’re the one to talk to about us using the DWD team in this operation..."

"And he’s right. But as I told you, no business will be discussed tonight. You and I will talk, in the morning at precisely 0900, in my office."

"But..."

Karen looked at him and her brown eyes narrowed. How dare this man barge into their home and insist on talking about this after she had already told him ‘no’ twice. She looked over at her husband and saw a small grin on his face. A slight nod of his head told her all she needed to know.

"Mr. Thompson," she calmly but coolly replied, "No business will be discussed tonight regarding that assignment. If the team is to be involved, that will be my decision." She stopped to let her words sink in. She would not be cornered in her own home by an outsider. "Now, if you would like to join us, you’re more than welcome."

Harriman Nelson carefully watched the exchange taking place. He knew who held the upper hand and he simply wanted to sit back and observe the fireworks. Norman Thompson got a very quick and pointed lesson about dealing with Captain Karen Davis Nelson. And as Bill Johnson had said, Thompson had just been taken down a notch.

Thompson looked over at Nelson for support and found none. The dossier was right. She is a formidable woman to deal with. Deciding it would be against his best interest to continue, he decided to back off. "Very well, Mrs. Nelson. I again apologize. And yes, coffee would be fine."

Karen accepted the apology and smiled. "Good. Please…sit down and my daughter’ll bring in the coffee while I get the dessert." Turning to her husband, she said, "Harry, actually maybe we should take everything out on the deck. It’s such a beautiful evening."

He took the que and turned to Thompson, "Come on, we’ll let the ladies have their way. Actually Karen is right. I think it would be more comfortable out on the deck." Leading him outside, the two men stood at the railing and watched the sun set over the ocean’s horizon.

Thompson stood silently as the two women brought out a carafe of coffee and glasses of ice cream parfait for dessert. Looking at the two, he was struck by the casualness of the picture. Not exactly what he had expected the Nelsons to be. Harriman Nelson was no longer dressed in his khaki uniform, but was now in khaki slacks and a white polo shirt with Dockers shoes. Karen Nelson wore soft light blue cotton t-shirt dress and sandals and her daughter was dressed in cut-off jeans, polo shirt, and sandals. At first, Thompson could have sworn that he was in the middle of an upper class yuppie family.

Sitting around a wrought iron table, Thompson was drawn into the family conversation of computer technology. He also found out that Caitlin Davis was a graduate student at Cal Poly in computer engineering and was currently interning at the Institute. What was interesting to him was finding out the fact that the daughter was the one who had played the role of matchmaker between her mother and the Admiral.

Around 2200, Caitlin decided to call it a night and Karen decided to do the same. Both ladies said their good nights to Thompson and Karen advised him that she’d see him at 0900 tomorrow. She took the glasses inside and left the two men alone on the deck. As they sat there looking out over the Pacific Ocean, Thompson was struck at how calm and peaceful the whole scene was.

"Well, Thompson...was this what you expected?" Harry inquired as he took a drink of his coffee.

"Well, sir, I have to admit,...no, I guess it wasn’t. Actually, I admit I didn’t know what to expect. I do apologize if I was a bit out of line earlier with Mrs. Nelson..."

"Listen, don’t apologize to me...your dealings with the DWD team will be with her. Any amends that need to be made should and will be directed toward her, not me."

"Yes, sir. I understand...  Your stepdaughter is very interesting as well. I suppose ‘like mother, like daughter’?"

"Oh, very much so. Caitlin is very independent and very knowledgeable in computers and electronics." Nelson noted a bit of something, possibly an interest in his stepdaughter, in the man’s voice. "It really wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Karen were to bring in Caitlin as a sort of ‘consultant’. Her knowledge of communications and computers is outstanding. She’s been very instrumental in helping her mother lately with the new communications systems and the microcomputers in the diving suits." He chuckled and continued, "She even got me hooked into taking a laptop with me when I travel. Something I thought I’d never do."

"Interesting...well, I’ve imposed upon your hospitality too long tonight. I think I’d better leave so I can be on top of things when I meet with Mrs. Nelson in the morning. Please thank her for me."

Harry showed him out and then went into the bedroom. Karen was lying in bed reading the information that he had brought back.  "Well, what do you think about him?" he asked as he changed into his pajamas.

Putting down the material, she looked over at him. "He’s a bit arrogant and pushy...But that’s typical for a DC bureaucrat. Interesting, though. He did push it a bit after I told him no business was to be discussed."

"I know. I decided that I’d let you handle that. After all, you do it so well," he remarked as he climbed into bed beside her.

"Harriman Nelson!" she exclaimed, playfully hitting him with some of the papers, "You set that man up, didn’t you? You knew what he’d do, and you just hung back and let me blast him...God, you’re terrible, you know that?" She started to laugh. "The poor guy. I guess I did come down on him a bit hard, didn’t I? He does seem like a likable man, though, once he knew the ground rules. That accent he has...he sounds a bit southern...possibly a native Virginian, Tidewater area, I think."

He looked over at her in amazement. "Now how would you even know that?"

Karen grinned and then told him, "Easy. Listen to the way he pronounces ‘house’ or ‘about’ or ‘out’. It’s the ‘ou’ sound that’s distinctive. There’s no mountainese, no real twang. No, he’s from the Piedmont or Tidewater regions. And it’s too soft for the Carolinas...much more subtle."

"Well, you can ask him yourself tomorrow morning, now can’t you? By the way, what do you think of the stats he’s provided?"

Turning serious, she replied, "Frankly, I’m disgusted. Harry, if this lab is as big as I may suspect, we could actually put a dent in the trafficking. Not for long, I’m afraid, but a dent, nonetheless."

"What about the team, Karen? Do you think you can pull it off?"

"Well, I’m not about to commit to anything until I see exactly what we’re dealing with. I did some quick computations. IF the loading zone is within a 250 mile radius of Tijuana, let’s say, and their output is a couple of tons at a time, that lab is going to have to be good size to accommodate personnel and equipment. Add to the fact, that it can’t be too deep because of decompression times for the in-house personnel. Unless they’re using a radio controlled drone for loading. Then, decompression is limited to the habitat personnel only, but even with that, personnel would have to be rotated on a schedule, so then you’re talking about someone with a decompression chamber and who is knowledgeable in compression-decompression."

"I’m curious as to how they’re managing to ‘hide’ themselves from the NASA satellites."

‘So am I. They can’t be that deep. A habitat that big would be hard to hide if it’s to manufacture the output the DEA has estimated. Hopefully Lee will be able to answer a lot of those questions when he gets back," she contemplated. Turning off her reading lamp, she turned toward him. "Harry, I’m worried about Lee. I don’t like the fact that the DEA doesn’t want him to make contact with anyone while aboard that ship. If something goes wrong..."

"Don’t you think I know that?...But I can also see the reasoning behind it, too," he remarked. "They’ve had several of their own killed by bad contacts. Apparently the other side paid better. All we can do is wait and pray." He kissed her and then put his arm around her as she snuggled closer to him. "Now, let’s get some sleep ‘cause we’ve both got full days tomorrow."

 

 

The next morning, at approximately 0900 hours, Norman Thompson strolled into Karen Davis Nelson’s office for his meeting. Terri Styles, her secretary, showed him into her office, advising him that Karen would be about five minutes late and he was welcome to have a cup of the coffee that was located on her credenza.

Accepting the offer, he poured himself a cup and looked over her office. Function, not opulent. Stylish, but classic. That’s how he characterized her. There were Williamsburg prints over classic Queen Anne style furniture. He had seen the same kind of things in the Nelson house last night. There were family photographs along with awards. He spied a large photograph of her and Admiral Nelson on what obviously was their wedding day. There was also a collage of photos from the wedding, showing everything from the wedding itself through the honeymoon. Then there were the photographs of her daughter.

Now she’s interesting.... Intelligent. Beautiful.... And single.

He smiled slightly to himself, then thought, No, she’s probably got a bevy of boyfriends on the line. Besides, she was the daughter of the woman he was about to see and the stepdaughter of one of the most noted scientific geniuses the Navy had ever known. He had a job to do. That’s why he was here. Anything else had to be put on the back burner. Maybe afterward...

A few minutes later, Karen Nelson walked into her office.  "Mr. Thompson.... " she called to him and he turned around toward her. "Sorry I’m late. Please have a seat."

"Thank you. First, I’d like to apologize for last night..."

"Perfectly all right, Mr. Thompson, but let’s get one thing straight right now...I rule the DWD team. No one else does. If I say ‘dive’, we dive. However, we don’t go if I don’t know as much as possible about an assignment that I can make a fair judgement on." she advised him. "It has nothing to do with your ‘assignment’ here. That’s just my rule. And I don’t violate it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"Good. Then we can get started...Why did you want this meeting?’

He shifted somewhat, uncomfortable now under her microscopic gaze. He wasn’t used to not having the upper hand in a meeting and any edge he felt he’d had coming in, he’d definitely lost. Bending down to retrieve his briefcase, he told her, "We’d like the team to act, in essence, as a SWAT team. To surround, capture, neutralize, and destroy the target once it’s been located."

"Fair enough. I had understood that. Do you have any photos of it yet?" she inquired, already knowing the answer.

"No...but we’re hoping that once Crane reports back with a somewhat approximate location that we can redirect the satellites to cover the area and get it."

"And if the satellites can’t locate it, what then? They haven’t been able to find it so far...and those are pretty sophisticated cameras up there, Mr. Thompson, and you’ve had the AWACs planes as well..."

"Then...Mrs. Nelson, er, Captain Davis…I...we, ah, formulate a different plan of attack. However, that shouldn’t put a hold on your team being ready..."

She leaned back in her chair, studying him. His dossier was open and perched on an open drawer on the right hand side of her desk where he could not see but she could. She knew his history...was impressed by it, actually.... but still felt that he was a bit too much the ‘maverick’ still.  Leaning across the desk and looking straight at him, she replied, "You can’t formulate an attack plan until you know your enemy. Basic tactics, Mr. Thompson. Basic tactics. You should know that. There are too many factors here to be weighed before I can even think of putting my team, and myself, into the water." She could see the frustration building. It was clearly written on his face. Thinking to soothe his ego a bit, she continued, "Look, I normally go out on a mission with the team. As team leader, that’s part of my job. And if I won’t put myself into a situation, I certainly am not going to put my team into it without me...No, Mr. Thompson...once we have those photos and can analyze them, pick them apart...no plan can or will be formulated."

"Well, then, I guess it hinges on Crane, then."

"Yes, Mr. Thompson, I guess it does."

 

 

The San Diego DEA office was located within a very normal looking office building complex. They occupied the top floor of the entire office building and was rather non-descript, rather regular looking. The Average Joe Citizen would have absolutely no idea that that top floor of that building contained some of the best trained agents the agency had to offer. When Captain Lee Crane, USNR reported to the receptionist the morning before, he clearly thought he’d gone to the wrong place. Tastefully decorated and looking more like a suite of corporate offices, he was unprepared for what lay behind the walls.

He was met by a female agent and escorted to a conference room in the very back of the suite. Told to make himself at home, he was then left alone for about 10 minutes. What he did not realize was that a mirror hanging on the wall in the conference room was in fact a 2-way mirror and that he was being observed the entire time that he was there. The head of the field office, Johnathan Tayback, wanted to see what this ‘outsider’ was like. His people were specially trained and the VERY idea that Norman Thompson had brought in someone other than an experience field agent grated against his nerves. He’d heard about Captain Lee Crane of the Nelson Institute of Marine Research...and he’d, of course, heard about the Seaview. So Tayback decided to observe as his assistant met with Crane.

"Captain, my name is Joe Lucas. I’m the second in command here in this field office. Johnathan Tayback, the agent in charge of this office, isn’t available right now. Let’s get right to it, shall we? I understand you’re fluent in Spanish. That’s good. However, your ‘spic and span’ appearance will give you away in a heartbeat. You’re going to need about a week’s worth of beard. Also, let’s dirty up the hair, the hands, and the nails. You’re too clean right now, Crane."

Lee was used to going undercover. After all, he’d worked with ONI as an occasional operative. But this guy was a real piece of work. He was short and stocky, with a full beard that was graying. His hair was long, but not long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail the way Lee had observed as a present fashion. He had dark brown eyes and a rugged looking face buried underneath all the facial hair. Dressed in a suit (which looked out of place on him) he epitomized what Crane thought typical of an undercover drug officer.

Looking at him, Lee gave him the once over. "Do all your agents appear like this, Mr. Lucas?"

"No, Captain, A lot of them wear suits and ties because that’s the world they have to move in. You see, drug dealers come in all shapes, sizes, and from all walks of life. From the field hand in the poppy and coca fields to the deck hands on the freighters or the officers who pilot them, to the dealers and distributors who buy and then resale the dope on the street. I could put you in a room, Captain, where you’d have absolutely no idea who your target was ‘cause they’d appear perfectly normal and legitimate. Right now, we need you for your expertise as a sailor, and it doesn’t hurt that you’ve worked undercover for ONI before. Now, do you think you’re up for this ‘game’?" Lucas explained, fully aware that Tayback was behind the glass, listening and watching the proceedings.

Crane sat his jaw and looked Lucas straight in the eye. "Just tell me what you want and what you need and I’ll get it."

Lucas felt he was a fairly good judge with regards to whether these things would work or not. That was partly why Tayback had sent him in to speak with Crane. He studied the tall, gaunt man in the khaki Navy uniform sitting before him. Maybe this would work. Nothing else has. That’s for damn sure. He excused himself and left the conference room, then went into the room next door.

Tayback stood at the window watching Crane and then inquired of Lucas, "Well? What do you think?"

"He may just be the one to pull it off. I had ONI send over his file. Not bad. He’s too clean right now, though, for what we need him for. I think he’ll be ready by the end of the week or the first of next week though. We can then fly him down to Buenaventura at that time. Jesus can begin the process of getting him on board the El Zanzibar at that time. She’s not due to sail for about 3 weeks so we’ve got time to give him a good ‘education’, both here and there."

"Okay, get him over to one of the apartments and start in with him. I want him ready to go ASAP. Norm called and he’s up in Santa Barbara at the Nelson Institute. They’re going to use the Seaview and its crew for the ‘hit squad’, but they need to know where the lab is so the photos can be taken for recon work. Seems they’ve got some kind of special underwater diving team there that’s also trained in SEAL tactics. Crane’s whole purpose in this game is to obtain the exact location of that lab. And the only way he can do that is by being aboard the El Zanzibar." Lucas started out the door when Tayback said, "And for God’s sake, Joe, let’s make damn sure this guy knows exactly who and what he’s up against. Him working for ONI is one thing, but these clowns don’t take hostages. He’s got to understand that. I don’t want it on our heads if something goes wrong out there ‘cause he’s not prepared, ok?"

"Right, John. We’ll get him ready. Count on it," Lucas replied.

Returning to the conference room, Lucas told Crane, "Okay, Captain. I hope you’ve got some other clothes with you ‘cause you’re not going back to the Institute for a while. We’ll let your superiors know when you go south, but I have to be honest with you. Any other contact will be minimal at best and nil while you’re aboard the freighter. You are to observe and gather information, paying close attention to the exact location the freighter stops for loading the drugs. Once the ship docks and the crew goes out on shore leave, then you can ‘disappear’ and make your way back to the Nelson Institute. A contact will be set up for you once you dock. Is that clear?"

Lee nodded and the two men left the conference room for another part of the suite. Tayback shut off the 1-way intercom in the adjoining room. He was now satisfied that Crane could possibly handle the job, but he worried that, although an experienced operative, Crane might not be able to handle himself around these druggies. They were a different breed than what he was used to dealing with. The nuances were different...the attitudes were different. Crane was used to the cloak and dagger of international espionage. Drug lords and dealers were in a class all unto themselves and they were, as he was quickly learning, a hell of a lot more dangerous.

 

 

A week later, Lee Crane was flown in to Buenaventura, Colombia in the dead of night on a third rate cargo plane, which just happened to be owned and operated by an American who was an undercover DEA agent. No words passed between pilot and passenger. It was best that way. Lee was dropped off at a little used airfield outside the capital city. Now dressed in peasant clothing and looking like he hadn’t had a bath in a week (in actuality the truth), he blended in with the locals. He made his way to the city and found his way to the dock area. Making a cursory inquiry to several of the dockhands about if any of the ships needed a strong body, he slowly made his way down the pier until an old freighter with the name El Zanzibar came into site. Most of the dockworkers laughed at the tall, gaunt looking peasant who was dirty and reeked of farm animals. One man, however, near the gangplank of the Zanzibar took notice and called him over.

‘Hey, you...yes, you! Get your ass over here."

Crane obeyed and made his way to the stocky man at the railing.

"You looking for work, friend?"

"Yes, my family is poor, and I have left them to find work. Does this great ship need someone with strong hands who’s willing to work very hard?"

"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. Let me see your hands."

He took Crane’s hands and turned them palms up. Holding them close to his eyes, as if to inspect them, the man lowered his voice and said, "You’ll report to the 1st mate. Name is Julio. All is going according to plan. The ship sails in 10 days. You won’t see or hear from me again." He then put Lee’s hands down and looked him up and down. Raising his voice so that others could hear, he then pronounced, "You’ll pass, friend. I hope you’re stronger than you look, though. Julio is a hard 1st mate. If it’s hard work you seek, friend, Julio will give it to you."

Lee looked at the man and replied meekly, "Thank you, sir. My family thanks you." Then without any further comment, he proceed up the gangplank to the ship where several other men stood around. From the conversation that he overheard, they were waiting for Julio to come out and assign them their areas and living quarters. The men standing there were a mixture of peasants and hardened types. Men who would cut another’s throat simply because you looked the wrong way at them. In the few days he had been in the country, he had learned some very hard and fast rules. The first and foremost was that drugs were simply a way of life and you did not go against the major or minor drug lords...not if you wanted to stay alive. So Lee hunched over, not revealing his true height and bearing, looking very much like a timid peasant worker who wanted to provide for his family. His olive complexion had become ruddy and drawn from the sun, he was filthy and actually had complaints about drawing flies. He secretly found this amusing because his daily personal habits were normally just the complete opposite.

Soon, two men approached the group. One was an Anglo, the other Hispanic. The Anglo, obviously someone with some sort of authority, spoke in English to the other man who in turn translated into Spanish.

"All right you men, come with me and I’ll assign you a bunk. You’ll be expected to work hard and work long hours. Don’t complain about the pay. At least you’ll be getting it...and three hot meals a day as well as clean clothes." The man walked over to the group and looked them over one by one. Stopping in front of Crane, he frowned and scrunched up his nose. Speaking directly to him, he looked at Lee and said, "You need a bath. Get below and take one before you contaminate the beds. I’ll not have lice or any other diseases infecting the crew. Now get below!!!!"  Lee nodded slightly and showed confusion as to where to go. Julio laughed and yelled, "Dirty and dumb! God, I hope you’re strong, though." He then showed him where he could go to wash.

Down below, Lee found the head and stripped. Turning on the water as hot as he could stand it, he scrubbed the days of filth and grime from his body.

Well, if Julio thinks I’m dumb, then all the better. He won’t notice me as much then while I do my job. This could actually work to my benefit.

Standing under the hot spray, he thought of Robert who was at home with his mother. A pang of guilt came over him as he stood there. He had to remind himself that he was doing this in some small way so that maybe Robert and other children would never have to worry about this poison they would end up transporting. After he had showered and changed, he dropped his clothes in the trash can. Stepping outside the head, he had to remind himself not to straighten up, but to slouch.

Julio walked by and said, "Better. Much better. Now, come with me...by the way, what is your name?"

"Hector. Hector Salizar."

"Well, Hector Salizar, you clean up better than I thought. You’ll soon be dirty again, but at least you won’t be drawing flies. Your bunk is over there. Dinner will be in a while. The captain makes sure we eat good. For what we do and how little we make, at least we can say we have full stomachs. Better get some rest, Hector. For tomorrow you will begin to work like you’ve never worked before."

Crane walked over to the shabby bunk and sat down. Julio was watching him and he knew it, so he decided to put on a show of his own. Feigning exhaustion and delight about having a real mattress to sleep on, he lay down, closed his eyes, and then, unwittingly, fell asleep.

 

 

The next ten days proved to be some of the longest days that Lee Crane had ever known in his life. After the first two or three, he silently wondered if he truly was getting soft by being the Seaview’s Captain. The work aboard the freighter was backbreaking and Julio worked the men at a steady hard pace for 16 hours each day. They loaded freight in cargo containers, shifting it from one place to another to make room for more. He would come back to his bunk each night with aches in places he couldn’t ever remember having. Julio was right about the work. It was hard, but he was also right about the food. Only Cookie’s could rival it. He noticed, ironically, that he had started to gain some weight. Jamie had often been on him about that. Lee reasoned that what it really was, was muscle. He hadn’t worked like this in a long time and the long hours, hard work, and hearty food had started to fill him out in a very short period of time.

Julio still treated him as someone with low intelligence, which was just fine with Lee. It actually made his job a tad bit easier. In fact, if he was caught staring at something for a long period of time, he would fake a spaced out look and the others would joke about him. He would simply smile and nod, indicating acceptance...but Lee was really making mental note after mental note in his brain about the ship, its crew size, everything that he possibly could commit to memory.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of voices from the dock and then Lee saw the Captain come up the gangplank. Catching a few words here and there, he was able to find out that they would set sail on the morning tide and that their estimated arrival date in San Diego would be one week away. Filing that away, he continued to clean the railings that Julio had assigned him to do. As he worked his way down the railing, he found himself outside the Captain’s cabin. The Captain and Julio were conversing in English since they felt that the crew did not understand it.

"The cargo has been loaded, Captain, and we are ready to sail. And ample room has been made for the rest of our cargo as well."

"Good, Julio. Good. We will need it. I have been advised that we are to deliver around 2000 keys on this trip. A good profit, my friend. A good profit. Make ready for the morning tide then. We will rendezvous at the loading point in 72 hours. The weather is supposed to be good so there should be no problems with the sleds."

Lee made a mental note.

Sea sleds. That’s how they were able to load so much so fast. But how and where was it being loaded onto the ship? That was what he had to find out. 72 hours? Making some quick computations in his head, he figured that the point had to be somewhere near Tijuana, but not so deep as to cause problems for the lab’s personnel. They could still be on the continental shelf and not be too deep. 2000 keys? Kilograms? That was a lot of cocaine to be manufactured in an undersea lab. In order to do that, it had to be a good size one. He tried to remember if there were any abandoned underwater habitats off the coast, but found he couldn’t. He had to concentrate on listening and remembering the conversations. Without any contact to pass information on to, it was vitally imperative that he remember every last detail. They were depending on him to bring home the information.

As he cleaned the railings, the sounds became muffled, inaudible. He could no longer hear what they were saying and he didn’t want to look too obvious by cleaning the same section over again. No, he would have to let the events take place naturally and without interference. He was to be only an observer. The real fireworks would come much later when they would take out the lab.

 

 

The next morning, the old freighter was detached from her moorings and was gently nudged from her birth at the dock. The captain expertly guided her through the harbor and started out to sea. The summer weather was beautiful but hot. Seas were calm, hardly any swells. The first 48 hours was smooth sailing. The freighter ran amazingly smooth. Lee had to give the Captain credit; he ran a tight but fair ship. Most of the crew were uneducated peasants looking for work to support their families. A good number of them were experienced sailors but ones he wouldn’t trust if his life depended on it, and, unfortunately, under the present circumstances, it just might come to that.

The third day out, the freighter stopped. Lee managed to get a work detail close to the wheelhouse where he could overhear what was going on. Julio and the Captain were talking in English again. As Lee made his way closer to the wheelhouse, he hunched over the mop he held and wiped broad strokes that inched his way closer and closer to the two men. They saw him, stopped their conversation just long enough to realize who it was, then Julio laughed.

"It’s only Hector, Captain. He cannot understand English and is simple minded to boot. It’s okay to talk in front of him. He can’t understand anyway, do you, Hector?" Julio remarked, sarcastically slapping ‘Hector’ on the back. Lee looked up at the man and faked a weak smile, feigning ignorance at the words directed toward him.

The Captain laughed and then said, "Julio, one of these days...you are going to be bitten, my friend." Then turning serious, he reflected, "We’ve got an awful lot to do and a very short time to do it, my friend. Make sure the ‘area’ is ready for our cargo. We don’t want to stay here too long. It’s fortunate that our contact makes sure we’re the only ship in the area when it’s time to pick up our shipment. The bosses must pay him a small fortune to ensure his ‘loyalty’."

"Yes, they obviously do. It’s nice to have someone like that to look out for us," Julio agreed. The two men continued their conversation but lowered their voices. Lee continued to work at mopping the floor, straining his ears to hear the hushed discussion. His diligence was soon rewarded.

The radio operator appeared in the doorway with a message for the Captain. Scanning it briefly, he turned to Julio and remarked, "We will have to wait longer than normal. The ‘cargo’ is not quite ready and they are experiencing problems with the sled.... . No matter. What’s a few hours sitting here when money is at stake, eh, my friend?"

The first mate vigorously nodded. "Yes, it’s not as if we’re not well paid." The two men laughed and walked out of the wheelhouse together. Lee was left alone mopping the floors. Quickly looking around, he realized that a quick look at the INC (internal navigational computer) would give him an idea as to where they were. He quickly inched his way toward it, then taking out a rag, began wiping down all the instruments. When he came to the INC, he quickly memorized the coordinates, then looking quickly around to see if anyone was there, mopped his way across the room and out the door.

 

 

In Santa Barbara…

At the Nelson Institute, the daily routine had not been disrupted by Lee Crane’s absence. Research and development continued and outwardly everything seemed as it always was. Seaview was loaded with a full compliment of stores, ready to depart at a moment’s notice. It had been nearly three weeks now since Harriman Nelson had first been called to Washington, D.C. for the meeting at the Pentagon and Crane had left the Institute. They had not heard a single word from the DEA regarding Lee and the strain was beginning to show.

Karen Nelson awoke that morning to a vicious headache. She tried to get out of bed but when she placed her feet on the floor and tried to stand, the room seemed to spin. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, she just sat there. Harry came out of the bathroom after his shower carrying a towel in his hand and saw her sitting there, her face drained of any color it had.

He stopped short of the bed and asked, "Are you all right? You look pale."

She glanced up at him. "I think so. I got up with a terrible headache. Got a little dizzy when I tried to stand up. I may have to let Jamie look at me. Only thing I can think of that would do this would be a middle ear infection. Throws off your balance."

"Well, definitely let him check you out. Lee’s due back in less than a week and we’d better be prepared to sail at a moment’s notice once he gives the DEA those coordinates. Thompson will have us out to sea before we get the satellite pictures you wanted. And if it IS an ear infection, you’re grounded. You know that."

She glared at him. "Yes, I know that. I’m well aware of that. And if I can’t dive, then Chip will have to take up the slack and lead the team out." She slowly got to her feet and made her way to the bathroom. Taking a bottle of Tylenol from the medicine cabinet, she took two of the tablets. Coming back into the bedroom, she sat down on the antique sofa in front of the bedroom window.

"Harriman, I want to see those photos before that team is ever placed in the water. There’s too many factors here to consider. One wrong move and one or more of my team could get hurt or worse."

"I know that. And Thompson knows that. That’s why I insisted he deal with you exclusively regarding the team. You know what perimeters you can and can’t work in. And you know what can and can’t be done."

She looked up at her husband. Suddenly a wave of nausea came over her. Her expression and the fact that she grabbed hold of the end table alarmed Nelson. He walked over to her and stooped down in front of her.

"Are you sure you’re all right?"

"Yeah, I’ll be okay. For some reason the pills didn’t agree with my stomach."  And then just as suddenly as the nausea had hit, it disappeared. She straightened up and looked at him as he half squatted in front of her.  "Harry, I’m fine. Really. For some reason, something didn’t agree with me. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken those pills on an empty stomach."

"Well, get Doc to check you out anyway," he told her, standing up and taking her hand to help her up. Observing her, he watched her as color slowly came back into her face.

"I will. Hmm, don’t know what hit me just then. I’d swear I felt like I was run over by a truck. You know...like when you’ve come down with the flu."

"And you’re sure you’re okay?"

She looked at the concern in his blue eyes. "Yes, Harry, I’m sure," and she lightly kissed him, tracing the curve of his face with her fingertip, then headed for the bathroom. Maybe the shower will help. Turning on the water as hot as she could stand it, she then stood underneath the stream, letting the water cascade over her body. She could hear his electric razor going at the vanity and hear him humming as he shaved. Smiling to herself, content in her surroundings and feeling much better, she poured some of her favorite vanilla scented bath gel onto a sea sponge and slowly began to lather herself. A shower radio was set to Karen’s favorite jazz station and the music played as she stood under the shower. The steam from the shower had fogged up the room and she was so engrossed in the feel of the lather on her body that she didn’t hear the shower door open. Suddenly a hand appeared, took the sponge from hers, and proceeded to lather her back. She didn’t open her eyes, but just stood there, allowing him to soap her from head to toe. In some aspects, it was like a dream. The hazy delicious feeling she was having made her forget what she had endured earlier. He slowly turned her around and, after pouring a bit more of the scented gel onto the sponge, slowly and methodically lathered the front of her, massaging her breasts as the lather increased its richness and scent.

Opening her eyes slowly, she found herself gazing into his steel blue eyes. His auburn hair was now plastered to his head from the steam and the cascading water. His mouth hungrily sought hers as the water poured over them and his body pressed tightly against hers.

As his lips slowly made their way down her neck, she whispered, "Harry, I thought you’d already had a shower."

"Mmmmm, so I’ll have another one...." came the muffled quiet reply as his hands slid across her soapy body, settling on her breasts, his fingers slowly and lightly playing with the hardening nipples, then they slowly inched downward toward that most private and sensitive of places on her body. "Besides, this one will be more...interesting."

"Harriman Nelson...you are one salty sea dog, you know that," she saucily replied and gave in totally to his advances. Pressing her soapy body against his and feeling the hardness of him between them, she knew exactly what he had in mind. She returned his kisses with probing ones of her own. His hands roamed her body at will, making her crazy. Hers traced the outline of his body and found his hardness. Her soapy hands softly and slowly stroked him as he backed her slowly against the wall of the shower. The water washed all the soap away from their bodies as he slowly made love to her standing there in the shower.

 

 

Two hours later, Karen was sitting behind her desk in her office when her daughter walked in carrying several large books and a laptop computer.

"Good morning, Caitlin...I see that you finally decided to join the land of the living," Karen jokingly remarked, a pointed reminder of Caitlin’s sometimes tendency to sleep rather late when she was home for the summer.

"Hi, Mom, sorry about that. Let me put some of these things...down...here..." she replied, dropping everything on the sofa opposite the desk.

"What in God’s name is all that?"

"These?...Oh, those are some reference books that I got from the NIMR library on accessing databases and such...And there’s a couple on programming as well." Caitlin sat down on the sofa and opened the laptop, turned it on and waited for it to warm up.

Karen got up and came over to the sofa. Picking up one of the books, she thumbed through it and then put it down.

"Well, I’m glad you know what these say, ‘cause I sure as hell don’t."

Caitlin Davis looked at her mother. "Oh, Mom!.... Actually, one of my projects for the summer is in programming. I’m working with Chip Morton on Seaview’s new navigational computer. Chip is supervising the installation and I’m helping with the programming."

Karen glanced at her daughter. "Hmmm, you didn’t just happen to pull a little rank to get in on that, did you Caitlin?" She knew that her daughter had wanted to help with that ever since she had heard about it and had been trying to angle a way to do it. Karen figured that Caitlin might have just used the fact that she was Harriman Nelson’s stepdaughter to get to work on the project.

Caitlin looked up at her and grinned slyly. "Now, Mom...This is Chip I’m working with, remember? Besides...I did sort of trade babysitting services for the promise of working on the computer system."

Her mother laughed. Anything to get her near her beloved computers!!!

"Besides, Mom, you know that HN wants the INC on-line ASAP so that Seaview can depart as soon as Lee gets back. I just suggested to Chip that another hand could possibly make it go faster."

Karen noted something in her daughter’s voice with Crane’s name was mentioned. Over the last few years, Caitlin had developed a fondness for the Seaview’s captain. Then last year at the Nelsons’ wedding, there was an attitude change on Crane’s part. Karen never could pinpoint what it was, but Lee kept sulking whenever other men had shown any attention to her daughter. He was now a widower, having lost his wife in a tragic accident that left him with a young son to raise. The first she really noticed it was at the wedding reception when Caitlin was surrounded by several young Navy jet pilots from Miramar. Karen had talked with Lee and Chip at the bar during the reception as the pilots fawned all over her beautiful daughter. Lee was watching the interaction and acting, Karen suspected, somewhat jealous.

Yet Karen had openly dismissed any type of relationship other than friendship between the tall, lanky, sullen Captain and her daughter. For one thing, he was at least 15 years older than Caitlin. And for another, he was much more worldly. He had been married, widowed, and had a young son. Caitlin was young, impetuous, and still had a lot to learn about the world. Granted, she had had to grow up fast due to her mother’s career and the loss of her father...the environment at the Nelson Institute of Marine Research had also fostered both her intellectual and emotional growth. Harriman Nelson, even prior to his marriage to Karen, had taken on a surrogate father figure role and provided her with the guidance and love that she needed during her latter teenage years. The rest of Seaview’s crew acted as ‘brother protectors’ and best friends for her.

So when Caitlin mentioned Crane’s name with a certain tone in her voice, Karen’s maternal curiosity peaked. Deciding to venture a little further into the subject area, she asked, "Caitlin, are you sure you’re not doing this for some other reason as well?"

"Oh, Mom, now what on earth would that be?!.... Really, Mom...do you really think I’m doing it to get close to the guys?.... Come on, give me a break! I’ve grown up with a lot of these guys, for God’s sake!"

"Well, maybe just ONE particular person, perhaps?.... Like maybe...Lee Crane?" Karen gently teased her daughter.

"Oh, Mother, please!!!!!!"

Before Karen could reply, Terri Styles, her secretary, interrupted with a buzz on the intercom.  "Captain Davis, there’s a gentleman here to see you."

Crossing over to her desk, she flipped the switch on the intercom and replied, "Who is it, Terri? I wasn’t expecting anyone this morning."

"Mr. Thompson, ma’am. And he says it’s important."

Karen knew what that meant. She couldn’t have Caitlin in her office while discussing the mission with Thompson. Sitting down at her desk, she looked over at her daughter. God, she’s so grown up now!! I really wonder if it’s not Lee Crane she’s really interested in. No...he’s too old for her.... Course, then again, Karen old girl.... Harry’s at least 10 years older than you. You don’t reckon.... Terri’s voice brought her back to reality.

"Captain, should I send him in?’

"Just a minute, Terri. Have him wait for a few minutes. I’ll be with him shortly."

"Yes, Ma’am."

Karen switched off the intercom and then addressed Caitlin. "Sweets, you’re going to have to vacate here for a while. Mr. Thompson needs to see me and I’m sorry, but you can’t be a part of it. You know the rules."

Caitlin was used to the request. Even though her stepfather was Admiral Harriman Nelson and her mother was Karen Davis Nelson, she herself was not allowed to be privy to high level security matters. Her mother’s rule was if she were in the office when a matter arose, she had to vacate ASAP, no questions asked.

"No problem, Mom. I need to run some information down to Seaview anyway. Chip’s down there working on the INC’s installation. How about lunch? Will you be free?"

"Don’t know, sweets. Let me see how this meeting goes. If I’m free, we’ll meet at the house, ok?"

Caitlin picked up a couple of the books, her notes and headed out the door. Outside in the waiting area, Norman Thompson stood as she came out. He watched with more than a passing interest as Caitlin walked to the outer door and then turned around.

"Hello, Mr. Thompson. It’s good to see you again."

"Miss Davis, good to see you, too." Noting her loaded arms, he quickly moved to open the door for her. Her smile was radiant, he thought to himself. And she is beautiful and intelligent. I wonder...but then he dismissed the thought. The girl’s mother was standing in the doorway, watching the scene take place.

"Thank you," she replied as she then headed out the door without so much as a second glance back. He watched her as she left. There’s something about her...

"Humm, Mr. Thompson, you wanted to see me?" Karen Nelson asked. She was observing his reaction to her daughter with quiet amusement.

He turned around, looking at her, puzzled. "Oh,...yes, I’m sorry. Yes, I did. I have some news."

"Then come in, please. Terri, let the Admiral know that he might want to come over for this meeting."

"Yes, ma’am."

Thompson followed her into the office and sat down opposite her.

"All right, Mr. Thompson, what’s your news?"

"The El Zanzibar will dock in three days. An AWACs plane has been tracking its movements. When she docks, the ship’s cargo will be off-loaded, as will be drugs. So, Crane should be back here in less than a week."

She was glad to hear that. But he had not said if Lee was all right. "Mr. Thompson, I take it that you have another agent aboard that freighter as well as Lee Crane. Lee is all right, isn’t he?"

Thompson looked at the woman behind the desk, watching her very carefully.  "Yes, Mrs. Nelson, we do. And yes, he is all right, from last report. Now mind you, contact has been sporadic at best. Our man doesn’t want to breach security and lose his life as well. We do believe that Crane has the coordinates we’re looking for. Once he’s back here, we can download those coordinates into the computer to then feed directly into the SpyLink satellite. With that done, we can get the pictures you require."

"Good. If you want, I can give you the perimeters that you need to feed to the computer for the pictures."

At just about that time, Harriman Nelson walked through the door of his wife’s office.  "Thompson, I understand you have news about Lee Crane?"

"Yes, and no, sir. We have not heard from him. That much was to be expected. We didn’t give him a contact aboard the ship: however, as a failsafe, we did manage to get another agent aboard. One that has made contact with us and has advised that Crane has managed to get the coordinates. The Zanzibar will dock in 3 days. As I advised Captain Davis, we’ll observe the off-loading of all the cargo, legal and otherwise. Our agent will manage to ‘guide’ Crane off the ship and out of the area. If I were you, I would be prepared for anything."

Nelson glared at Thompson. His last statement didn’t exactly sit too well with him.  "What do you mean ‘be prepared for anything’? Crane is going to be all right, isn’t he? Your people will deliver him safely back here, won’t they? Damn it, Thompson, You better not let anything happen to him or I’ll have your head on a platter."

Thompson realized that he had just struck a nerve with Nelson. He had heard through the grapevine that Crane and Nelson were close. Sort of a father-son relationship. Crane had been Nelson’s best man at Nelson’s wedding the year before. And he had also been given permanent captaincy of the Seaview for as long as he wanted it so Nelson trusted him implicitly.

"Admiral Nelson, I assure you, all precautions will be taken that Lee Crane will be delivered back here to the Institute safe and sound."

"I’ll hold you to that promise, Thompson. Lee Crane has a young son that needs him. The boy lost his mother when he was very small and I don’t want him to be made an orphan. Do you understand me?" Nelson growled.

"Yes, sir. I do," Thompson responded. The one thing he had never counted on was the closeness of the Seaview ‘family’. Crane and Nelson had both been trained by the ONI in covert activities. They both knew the risks every time they accepted a mission. yet Thompson had just been privy to something extremely unusual. For the first time, he had seen what being part of a ‘family’ was really all about. It didn’t matter which one of them was involved, the others worried until they had returned to the fold.

"Mr. Thompson, as soon as we have the coordinates, how long do you estimate before we have the satellite pictures? If the freighter is due to dock in three days, and Lee will be back here by the end of the week, you’re talking about roughly seven to ten days from now, is that right?" Karen inquired. "I need to know when to recall the team back to the compound."

"Actually, Captain, you might want to recall them within three days. If you can give me the list of parameters, I can have that ready as soon as we get the coordinates from Crane. The faster we can feed them into the satellite, the faster we can leave...even if we have to leave before he gets back aboard."

Nelson looked at him. A determined look came over his face and Karen knew that posture and stance well. She watched her husband’s facial expression. His lips had thinned out and a slight scowl settled on his face.

"Mr. Thompson, if at all possible, Seaview will not sail without her Captain. Is that clear?" Nelson quietly but firmly told him.

"But Admiral..."

"But nothing, Mr. Thompson. Seaview will wait for Lee Crane. That drug lab isn’t going anywhere. And neither will we, until he’s safely aboard or until we hear otherwise," Nelson adamantly declared.

Thompson was clearly getting frustrated. He looked to the only other person in the room that could shed some reason on the argument. Karen would not give him that support. She too clearly would not commit to anything until Crane was safely back in the fold.

Clearly, he was outnumbered. So he could do nothing but wait. And pray that Lee Crane would depart the El Zanzibar in three days unharmed and make his way back to the Nelson Institute of Marine Research.

 

 

Aboard the El Zanzibar, Lee Crane continued his charade of ‘Hector’. He knew now that the ship would dock in three days in San Diego and he knew what the new ‘cargo’ was that she carried. He had been below that day when the sleds rendezvoused with the ship. He had also observed the false flooring in her bottom and watched from a safe distance as the kilos of cocaine were off-loaded from the sleds and then packed into special containers within the cargo hold. The pungent smell of coffee grounds coming from the thousands of burlap bags of coffee beans that were packed around the white bricks was almost overwhelming to the senses. This was done to throw off any US Customs’ drug dogs should the cargo be inspected. They had managed to remain undetected for over a year now. However, the cartel knew that it was only a matter of time before they were boarded and checked. Already they had received information from their own informant that the DEA was closing in on the ships, but they needed to bring as much of the specially processed cocaine into the United States as they could. They had gone to a lot of time and expense to adapt a small fleet of ships for the underwater sleds. And until they were totally destroyed, and the lab out of commission, the cartel would continue to bring in the shipments in this manner.

Julio still thought of ‘Hector’ as simple. But he also recognized that he had strength as well. So he routinely would use him in some of the more menial but heavier tasks. Two days out from San Diego, Julio came to ‘Hector’ and told him to go below and help with some of the cargo that had shifted. As Crane went below, he heard the low voices of those working in the hold. Men who hadn’t seen the sun in days worked continually with the cargo, making sure it didn’t shift with the rolling of the ship. Lee suddenly caught sight of a small area of the hold that was packed just slightly different from the rest. He didn’t want to seem too obvious with his interest, but he felt that he needed to see what was there. As he joined the rest of the hands hoisting cargo into containers, he kept keenly aware of the conversations going on around him. There were so many going on, but he heard snippets of one conversation on the other side of the container. Slowly working his way around to that side, he found two men, clad in dirty work pants and shirts steadily packing a crate with brick-like bags of white material. There was straw strewn around and the scent of coffee mixed with oil and human sweat hung in the air. The two men saw Lee and shouted for him to get out of the way, that he didn’t belong there. One of the men shook his fist and cursed at him, threatening to cut his throat if he did not leave. ‘Hector’ slowly told them that Julio had sent him down to help, but they would have none of it. The taller of the two men pulled out what appeared to be a machete and loudly threatened Crane with it. Lee then feigned meekness and slowly nodded his head in obedience. He had seen enough. This is where the cocaine would be packed and stored, then smuggled into the States.

Looking at the scene in its entirety, Lee found himself sick to his stomach. He had never really realized how the drug trade effected people. These men would sooner kill him than to look at him. It was certainly not like any other mission he had ever been on for ONI. He then realized that the thousands of kilograms of cocaine that the ship now carried would end up being sold on the streets for millions of dollars. It would feed the habits of untold thousands of addicts possibly nationwide. People from all walks of life. Even down to some children. It was that one thought made him sick . . And madder...and more determined than ever to be part of the operation that would stop that laboratory.

Three more days. All he had to endure was three more days. Then the ship would dock at San Diego and he would go ashore and ‘disappear’. Lee made his way back up to the deck and stood quietly at the railing looking outward across the horizon. Another one of the crew, a smallish framed man with a very dark ruddy complexion leaned up against the railing and offered Lee what looked like some kind of a cigarette. Shaking his head no, the man simply shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Your loss, my friend."

In an attempt to engage the man in conversation, Lee replied, "I tried once, but hated what I felt like afterward."

The smell of burning marijuana emulated from the cigarette. Lee knew that within a few minutes the shorter man would be feeling very high and might just prove to be quite useful to him.

As the smaller man puffed away, his eyes started to glaze a bit. Now! Lee had to ask his questions quickly and quietly.

"I was told to go help that that big crate in the hole. Those two men wouldn’t let me. They told me they would kill me if I came near it."

"Ahhh.... yes.... Pedro and Juan.... yes.... they are very bad, those two.... Will slit your throat quickly if you cross them."

"They look very bad.... I didn’t want to cross them...my family depends on me to bring home some money for food.... . Our crop this year was very bad," Lee told the man puffing on the cigarette.

"You ought to go to work for Miguel Rodriguez’s family. Good money...I know. He would make sure your family is fed and clothed. My family was poor, too. Then I went to work for their family. Now my family has plenty of food...plenty clothes.... we have money for doctors. Rodriguez takes care of my family. I owe him everything."

Lee watched the man carefully as he became more intoxicated on the drug. His tongue was getting a bit looser the more stoned he became.

"Yes, but what happens if one day you don’t want to work for him anymore? I know the coca brings good money, and my family does need it...but I have seen what it can do to a person...what if you don’t want to work for him anymore?" Lee slowly asked him.

"Ahhh, but who would want to stop getting that kind of money and help that Miguel can bring to us, eh, Hector? A person would have be loco to bite the hand that feeds it, would they not?" the man replied as he took another very long drag on the cigarette. The pungent odor was interesting to Lee but he edged a bit away. The last thing he needed to find himself stoned and not in control.

The two men stood for a bit more at the railing and watched as a school of dolphins raced parallel to the moving freighter. Lee had always been struck at the sheer gracefulness of the animals and he smiled slightly as he spied a mother and her baby within the group. His mind wandered to another time, another place, another mother and child.

Cats, I miss you so much. I wish you could see Robert now, Cats. He’s growing so fast...I just wish I was at home to see it more.

Crane was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice that the other man had walked away and he was now alone at the railing. He turned and noticed that most of the crew had obviously gone below for the night. It wouldn’t be long now before they docked in San Diego.

 

 

The next few days passed without incident. The crew was getting a bit antsy about shore leave in America. The first mate had voiced his reservations giving the crew shore leave...he was afraid that some of the crew would ‘jump ship’ and disappear into the underground of illegal aliens. However, the Captain had ordered a limited shore leave...the men would be allowed leave but only in groups so that crew loyal to the owners could keep a watchful eye on the others. Feeling very generous, the Captain had arranged with one of the local dockside bars the full use of their facilities, even down to some of the local ‘ladies’. His reasoning was that three to four weeks alone on board a ship was not good for any man and that if his crew was kept happy, they would all return voluntarily.

On the final day, the freighter slowly steamed into San Diego harbor and with the aid of a tugboat, eased itself alongside the assigned birth at one of the numerous piers. Longshoremen began the job of tying up the ship and once the harbormaster had finished with the various paperwork, the long, tedious job of off-loading the cargo began.

The day after all the cargo had been off-loaded (including the drug shipment); the Captain granted limited shore leave to his crew. The first mate indicated to the men that they would be granted the leave, but that they to stay within the confines of the immediate pier area. There was a bar near the pier that they would be allowed to go to but nowhere else.

As the men departed the freighter a few at a time, Julio came upon ‘Hector’ as he was gathering some of his things in preparation to go ashore.  "And where do you think you’re going, eh, Hector? You going to drink and maybe have some fun? Maybe there will be some pretty senorita take pity on you," Julio laughed. "Well, don’t let the pretty ladies take all your money." He slapped Lee on the back and pushed him out the hatchway.

Lee held his tongue and stayed in character. It had gotten him this far.... only a little while longer. Lucas had told him before he left for Colombia that someone would contact him after he docked back in the States although he wasn’t told how, when, where, or even who. Only that he would be contacted and gotten out of the area and back to the Institute.

The crew made their way to the bar a couple of blocks from the pier. Lee looked at the area and thought that it looked like the worst dive of a bar that he’d ever seen.... and he’d seen quite a few over the years. The cigarette smoke hung like a thick bluish white haze throughout the room. The foul smell was stale beer and stale smoke. Lee looked around the room at the myriad of men and local prostitutes that both sat and stood there. Music from an old jukebox was playing loudly. The bartender greeted the men with a barely audible grunt and "What do you want?"

As each man ordered, Crane’s eye methodically yet casually roved over the room. There was something about this place that made his skin crawl. Maybe it was the cockroach that he spied crawling along the bar or the fact that it looked like the place had not seen a mop and bucket for years. His eyes settled on a group of crewmen and ‘working ladies’ laughing and talking loudly over in the corner. One of the women looked over at him and decided to saunter over to his side. She wore what had to be the shortest mini-skirt he’d ever seen along with black fishnet stockings, 4 inch stiletto heels and a halter top that barely covered her more than ample breasts.

"Hey, you...yeah, you...you like what you see?" she asked him, smiling seductively and took hold of his belt as she pulled him to her. She took her other hand and placed it on his rear end and squeezed his hips.

Lee didn’t know quite what to do...he smelled the cheap perfume along with the other disgusting smells from the bar and was trying to keep from gagging. He knew he had to keep in character, and he kind of felt sorry for this woman who was obviously trying to sell her body to him.

Smiling weakly, he gently pulled her hand from his backside. "No thank you. You are a very pretty lady, but I am married."

"That doesn’t matter, now does it?" she sweetly told him as her hand then made its way to his hair and her fingers twirled the black curls. Swiftly pulling him down to her, she brazenly kissed him and rubbed her leg on the inside of his thigh.

He backed away and shook his head. "No, thank you. All I want here is a beer."

One of his companions was watching the scene take place and laughed, "Hector wouldn’t know what to do with you if he tried. He’s a bit simple...you know...in the head."

The woman smiled and looked over at the grinning man. "Oh, I think he knows what to do, all right...he just needs a little ‘help’."

"Well, why don’t you help him then?" said the man as he pushed Lee toward Rita.

"You want some help, Hector? You want to sample Rita’s wares for the evening? Come on, Hector, let Rita help you relieve some of that tension and shyness," she seductively gestured as she pulled at his belt.

All of a sudden, one of the men from the corner table came over with a beer bottle and angrily said to the woman, "Get your ass back over here. We paid for you, you belong to us."

The woman turned around and slapped the man with the bottle. "You may have paid for my ‘favors’ but you don’t own me. I want to see what he has in there and so far, it looks mighty good to me," she replied, now leering at Crane.

"We’ll see about that," the man said angrily and suddenly broke the bottle against the table. "I’ll take care of him so you won’t need anyone else." He advanced toward Lee with the broken bottle in his hand. Lee stepped back cautiously, when he suddenly felt someone take hold of his arms and hold them behind him. Instinctively, he kicked out at the man with the bottle and then a full scale fight erupted in the bar. Bottles, fists, and bodies were flying all over the room. Crane felt a blow to his stomach and then someone hit him in the jaw. The next thing he knew, he was hurling through the door of the bar and landing almost headfirst on the pavement. Two of the men and Rita followed him outside where one man picked him up off the street. He grabbed at Lee’s shirt and held him close to his face. The man slightly grinned at him and then quietly told him, "It’s time for you to leave here, Captain."

Crane’s eyes narrowed and he looked very closely at the man. All of a sudden, he recognized the face in front of him. Lucas, the DEA agent. But how? How did he know he’d be here? Then, without warning, Lucas’s fist caught Lee square in the jaw and Crane’s body went limp.

Quickly, the two men and the woman dragged Crane to the alley where an old dilapidated van was waiting. The side panel opened quickly and he was pulled in. The other three jumped in, the door closed, and the van backed out of the alley.

 

 

A couple of hours later, an old gray beat up panel van approached the gates of the Nelson Institute of Marine Research. Stopping for the security check, the driver flashed his badge and was allowed through then headed straight to the compounds SickBay facility where Will Jamison and Harriman Nelson were waiting. As the vehicle parked, a blue Jeep Wrangler pulled up and Caitlin Davis started to get out. Seeing her stepfather and the doctor standing outside seemed a bit unusual and as she started to approach, the van’s doors opened up. What she saw next shocked her. She watched as Lee Crane was carried, unconscious and obviously beaten, into the medical facility. Rushing up to Nelson, she grabbed hold of his arm and asked in a terrified voice, "What’s wrong with Lee, HN? Is he okay?"

Putting his arm around her to reassure her, he then said, "He’ll be just fine, Caitlin. He’s all right. He’s been on a mission and these people got him out and back here."

"Oh my God, HN, are you sure? He looks terrible."

"He’ll be fine. If you want to, come on with me and you can see for yourself. By the way, where’s your mother? Karen needs to know that Lee’s finally back."

"She’s out on the Vulcan, putting the team through some exercises. You want me to have her brought in?"

"No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary right now, but she does need to know he’s back. I’ll let her know myself in a little while. Was she going to dive?.... She was complaining a few days ago that she wasn’t feeling well."

"I don’t know. Come to think of it, I thought she did look a bit pale this morning when I saw her. But you know Mom, HN.... . after the other ordeal, she’s not about to dive if she truly doesn’t think she should."

They walked into the building together and into the waiting area outside the examination room. In another room, off to one side, were Norman Thompson, ‘Rita’, Joe Lucas and the other man from the bar as well as the driver of the van. Thompson was debriefing them and would then debrief Crane as soon as he was conscious and able to talk coherently.

Will Jamison strolled out to them about 15 minutes later. Thompson and his team were now waiting with Nelson and Caitlin.  "He’s okay. Other than a sore jaw and a bit of a black eye, I think he’ll be just fine. He’s certainly been eating well...looks like he’s actually picked up a few pounds and Lord knows, I’ve been after him to do that. Physically, though, I do believe he’s in better shape than when he left here."

"When can I see him, Doctor? It’s imperative that we speak to him," asked Thompson.

"Well, I think he can see you in about 30 minutes. But first, he wants to talk with the Admiral," Jamison indicated and then turned to Nelson. "He insists, in fact."

Nelson raised an eyebrow and cocked his head slightly. Obviously Lee had something to tell him that he didn’t want Thompson to hear. Leaving Caitlin in the waiting area with Thompson and company, he followed Jamison back into the examining room. Finding Lee Crane sitting up on the table, Nelson shook his hand and welcomed him back.

"Well, you don’t look any worse for wear, except for that black eye," Nelson mused as he looked at his captain.

"Yeah, well.... Lucas packs a mean punch. I’m surprised my jaw’s not broken," he replied, moving his mouth around a bit.

"Will indicated you wanted to talk to me.... What’s the problem?"

"They’re using sea sleds to move the cocaine.... And there’s a leak. Someone lets them know when there’s no ships in the area and then keeps any other ships out of there while the stuff is being loaded."

"You think it’s one of the agency people?"

"I don’t know.... but I did overhear a conversation that indicated whoever it was, was rather high up and had a lot of influence."

Lee picked up a clean uniform that had been brought over for him and started to change clothes. What he found as he did startled him a bit. His uniform, normally a bit loose on him, was now not tight, but snug. He hadn’t realized that the hard work and filling food aboard the freighter had actually added both pounds and muscle to his lean frame. Will had always been after him to gain a little weight but he hadn’t meant to in this manner.

Nelson looked at him in a bit of amusement. "Looks like you need a new uniform, Lee. The food must have been awfully good."

"Well, it was filling, if that’s what you mean...I guess I worked harder than I realized there. Guess I’ll have to requisition a new set of uniforms."

Jamison came over, looked over the charts and then looked at Crane. "Well, I’ll say this much, you need to do this kind of work more often. You look pretty good."

Lee was about to come back with a retort when he looked up and saw a beautiful blonde walk into the room. Had he not known the young woman, he would have been tempted to dazzle her with some kind of comment.

Caitlin Davis looked at Crane as he stood fastening the buttons on his shirt. She flashed him a grin and nodded her head approvingly.  "Hmmmmm, he certainly looks just fine to me," she stated walking over to him. Taking her hand and lightly touching his left eye, she frowned as he grimaced from her touch. "Sorry.... God, who did that to you? It looks horrible."

Lee smiled at her and gazed into her bright blue eyes in the process. Recently he’d been getting an uneasy feeling when he was around her...especially since last year at the Admiral’s wedding.

"I’m fine, Caitlin.... It’ll go away with time."

"Well, I’m glad of that. After all, Lee, you’re the one that’s going to have to explain that shiner to your son."

Lee’s eyes brightened even further at the mention of Robert. Looking at her and knowing that she sometimes babysat him, he asked, "How is he? How’s Mom?"

Caitlin partially sat down on the bed and crossed her legs. Her cut off shorts showed them off quite nicely and she saw that Lee had actually noticed. Inwardly smiling to herself, she answered, "They’re both fine, but Robert misses his dad. He’s been asking a million questions about where you were. He doesn’t understand, Lee. If I were you, I’d have a little heart to heart talk with him."

"Don’t worry, I will. Just as soon as I talk to Mr. Thompson and his group."

About that time, Thompson walked into the room and observed the little scene in front of him.  "Did I hear my name mentioned?"

Nelson turned and saw him standing there. "Come in, Thompson. I think he’s ready for debriefing."

"Good...Ahh...Captain, I thought you’d like to meet the agents who brought you out. I think you know Joe Lucas...." he indicated as Lucas poked his head around the door and stepped inside. "And this is Robin Turner, one of our other undercover agents..." and then he turned to ‘Rita’, "...and this ‘lady of the evening’ is Dora Masterson."

Crane looked at her and burst out laughing. "Well, I have to say, Dora, that I never would have picked you for an agent. Your act was superb! It certainly fooled me, that’s for sure!"

Dora swiveled over and kissed him full on the lips and then took her long fingernail and lightly touched his face. "Anytime, Captain. Anytime."

Lee watched as she walked out of the room, as did every man there, including Nelson. Caitlin coughed about that time and ostensibly broke the mood. Harriman looked over at his stepdaughter and caught a look on her face of total distaste. Interesting. I wonder...

Thompson had also caught the look that Caitlin had made. It was becoming obvious that she had an interest in the tall sullen man in the room but that he was totally oblivious to it. He would file this bit of information away for future use.  "Well, Captain, if you’re up to it, I need to debrief you now," he asked.

Nelson approached the two men and nodded slightly toward Caitlin. "Gentlemen, I do believe that this would be better done in my office. Thompson, if you’ll let Captain Crane get dressed, we can all meet there in about 90 minutes."

Thompson agreed and the DEA team left after congratulating Crane on what they felt was a successful mission.

"Well, I for one, think you look great.... except for that black eye," Caitlin told him. Turning to Nelson, she quickly kissed her stepfather on the cheek and said, "I’ll radio Mom and let her know he’s back. If I know her, she’ll be back shortly. Whatever you all have on the plate here is obviously very important and I’m not a part of it...so...I’ll just scoot out of here and head for home." As she started through the door, she turned and looked back at an obviously more muscular Lee Crane. Flashing him an approving smile, she then walked out the door.

Crane looked at Nelson, who was standing over by the examination table with his arms crossed. "You know, Admiral, I really feel sorry for whichever man that finally catches her. He’s definitely going to have his hands full."

Harriman looked at his captain in amusement and remarked, "Why, Lee...are you saying that my stepdaughter’s too hard to handle?"

Crane looked at him pensively and replied, "Not for the right person, sir,...not for the right person."

"Well, Captain...would you happen to know the ‘right’ person?" Nelson asked with an amused look on his face.

Lee looked at his boss, seemingly puzzled by his comment. Before he could answer, Jamison walked in and handed him a slip of paper...his discharge from the facility.  "Get out of here, Captain, before I decide to keep you."

Taking the paper, Lee grinned, "You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m outta here."

He grabbed his clothes and then he and Nelson left the medical facility for the administrative building.

 

 

Karen had received a radio call from Caitlin that Lee was back and that there would be a meeting in the Admiral’s office. She immediately flew back to the institute via the helicopter that was based on board the Vulcan. Her husband met her at the landing pad and filled her in on what all had happened. As they walked to the Administration building, he noticed her coloring. She does look a bit pale.

"Karen, are you all right?"

She looked at him, baffled at his statement. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"It’s just that...well, Caitlin said you looked a bit pale this morning, and I remember that you were complaining you didn’t feel well a few days ago . . ."

"Harriman, I’m fine. I am feeling just a bit tired, though."

As they got to his office, he opened the door and found Lee, Chip Morton, and Norman Thompson all waiting for him. Nelson then informed Angie that they were not to be disturbed.  The five of them settled in around Nelson’s desk, with Harriman taking up residence behind it. There was a large map of the western coast of North America on the wall with the area around the US-Mexican boarder enlarged.

"All right, Captain, what did you find out?" Thompson asked.

Lee Crane got up and approached the map. Taking a compass and marking the coordinates on the map, he then looked at the group.

"The lab’s here. About 750 feet below the surface. The drugs are transported to the freighter from the lab by sea sleds. The freighters have a false decking covering the inside lower hull and there are special hatches for the sleds to enter and exit. I saw what amounted to probably 2000 kilograms of cocaine loaded," he informed them. He then turned to Thompson and inquired, "Is it normal for them to use coffee beans to cover the cocaine?"

"Yeah, that’s an old but effective trick. Throws the dogs off the scent...Sea sleds, eh? Well, doesn’t surprise me.... Rodriguez always was one smart dog...." Thompson replied and then turned to Karen Nelson. "Will your teams be able to work at that depth?"

She looked at him and grinned. "Mr. Thompson, 750 feet is most definitely possible." She then turned to Morton. "Get all the necessary equipment ready and have the air mixed for that depth range. As soon as we get the satellite pictures, we’ll have a better idea of the terrain."

"Yes, ma’am," Morton answered.

Thompson glanced over at Karen and asked, "I understand that you usually go down with your team. I assume this will be no different?"

"You assume right, Mr. Thompson. As I told you before, I don’t ask the team to do anything I couldn’t or wouldn’t do myself."

"Well then, I want to go down with you when you hit the lab."

Karen looked at him in disbelief. She looked over at her husband who was looked shocked.  "Mr. Thompson, you are not qualified to dive at that depth and the answer is a flat no."

"Captain Davis, I can assure you that I am..."

"No, Mr. Thompson. Under absolutely no circumstances will you dive with us. This team is highly trained...specially trained for depths other divers can’t touch. And you aren’t qualified, at least under me."

He started to protest again when Harriman broke into the middle of the conversation.  "Thompson, the Captain told you no and I suggest you end this insane request of yours right now," he raised an eyebrow as his voice deepened and became more demanding. Both Crane and Karen knew that tone well. It was the one he used when he was getting teed off at his authority being questioned.

Norman Thompson sat looking at the four officers, suddenly realizing that he was outnumbered. This was their territory and he knew that they would no more let him in it than if the situation were reversed.

"Very well, Admiral....Captain Davis, it seems as if I’ve erred again...I apologize. As long as that lab is taken out, I shouldn’t really care who does it or how it’s done."

"Well, now that that’s settled, we can set out to sea. We’ll know more by tomorrow when the satellite pictures come in. I suggest we all get our things together and get aboard Seaview. Lee, I want to set sail as soon as possible. Karen, I want the DWD teams on full alert and ready to go as soon as you make your evaluation of the area. Our cruise of the area should look completely normal," Harriman Nelson concluded.

Crane, Morton and Thompson all left the office. Karen and Harriman were the only two remaining. She stood, went to the map, and looked at the area Lee had marked. He watched her closely. Something’s wrong. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he knew there was something.

"I want Will to take a good look at you before you go down there," he flatly told her.

Normally she would simply waive off her husband’s concerns but she too was beginning to become concerned. Nodding acceptance of his request, she sat down in the chair directly across from him.

"All right. Right after we go aboard, after we’ve set sail, I’ll have Jamie run the full battery of tests. For some reason, I’ve been getting awfully tired lately."

"Karen, I want you in Will’s office ASAP."

"Harry, I’ll see him after we get aboard. Right now, I’ve got to oversee the planning of the raid on that lab. If I don’t keep a tight reign on Thompson, Lord knows what he’d have them doing. As soon as he can get me those satellite pictures, we’re into the middle part of the planning stage."

He looked across the desk at his wife. She does look tired...and pale. But she was right. Someone had to hold Thompson down and if there was anyone that could do it quite effectively, it was her. He had learned the hard way several years ago not to question her judgment where the team was concerned. Therefore, he would not push her on the question. However, he would make sure that she went to see the doctor before she dived with the team.

"All right, Karen, but I want you in SickBay as soon as we set sail," he pointedly replied.

She didn’t feel like arguing the point somehow. Actually, it was beginning to worry her but she hadn’t wanted to say anything about it to him. Karen had had some very uneasy feelings for the last week or so. Feelings and thoughts she thought she’d left behind years ago. Reasoning that the scenario she had in the back of her mind was improbable but not impossible, she now began to wonder if it was truly possible. Will Jamison would be able to tell her one way or the other if she was right.

"Yes, sir. Admiral, sir," came her rely in a somewhat amused lilt. She was the only person that could do that and actually get away with it. "Harry, I promise I’ll be good and see Will before the dive. But I really do have a lot of things to do before we sail...and if I don’t get out of here, I won’t get anything done."

She got up, leaned across the desk to kiss him lightly and then left him to look over the specifics of what needed to be done.

 

 

The next morning at approximately 1000 hours, Seaview’s crew were all present and accounted for. Lee Crane and Chip Morton stood in the Control Room going over the depth and topography charts for the area where the laboratory had been found. All posts were manned as the great gray boat readied for deployment.

At 1015 hours, Admiral Harriman Nelson strolled into the Control Room to confer with his captain. "Everything and everyone aboard, Lee?" Nelson inquired.

"Yes, sir. Ready when you are," Crane replied.

Nelson looked at the charts that lay before him on the table and then peered up at the Observation Nose where he saw Norman Thompson sitting in front of the bow windows. Arching an eyebrow a bit, he looked over at Crane, as if questioning what he saw,

"He said he wanted to watch the departure. I didn’t see any harm," Lee explained. Then leaning over a bit closer to the Admiral, he added, "I know we’ve got to have him here...after all this thing is his idea...but there’s something about him that bugs me."

Nelson fidgeted with the pencil that lay on the chart table. "I know exactly what you mean. However, personality conflicts have no place in this, so I guess we’ll just have to put up with it." He put the pencil back down on the table and then gave the order. "Well, Lee, let’s do it. Take us out."

"Yes, sir," came the reply. Turning to Chip Morton, he ordered, "Mr. Morton, take us out slow and easy."

"Yes, sir," Chip replied and then picked up the microphone. "Now hear this. Cast off all moorings! Make ready for departure. Engine Room, make ready for slow departure."

The intercom crackled with compliance responses. Nelson strolled up to the Nose and took his usual seat in what become commonly referred to as the ‘Front Porch’. Thompson stood gazing out the bow windows in obvious awe of what was before him. The Flying Sub’s view ports had stunned him, but this was absolutely amazing to him. Knowing that Seaview was capable of diving to such incredible depths was staggering enough, but as he watched the slowly changing scenery before him, he became more and more respectful of the man sitting across from him.

"Admiral, I have to honestly tell you that I had absolutely no idea that this ship was this big and this amazing. My hat’s off to you, sir."

"Thank you...and it’s a ‘boat’, Thompson, not a ship."

The sound of footsteps coming down the spiral stairs from A Deck made both men look up. Karen Nelson walked down and then took her seat beside her husband. Thompson watched the couple as they sat there. Their casual, yet total professional, attitude toward each other and everyone around them stymied him. He had always thought of military types as stiff shirts, so adherent to strict discipline. The ones he had always come in contact with through the Pentagon in Washington were definitely that. Seaview’s crew, and its owner, puzzled him. There was an adherence to military rules and regulations but there was also a bit of an easygoing attitude among the crew and officers. They were all technically Naval Reserve, but working for a private concern. There was also a quiet but hugely open respect for the two people seated before him.

As the sleek submarine slowly made its way through the Santa Barbara channel from the Institute to the open sea, Karen looked over at Thompson, watching his interest and reactions to what was happening around him.

"It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?" she asked quietly.

He turned and looked at her as if he hadn’t quite heard her. "Uh...yes, it is. I’m still amazed that this glass will keep out all that water."

"It’s not glass, Mr. Thompson. It’s a very high tensel-strength plastic alloy developed by the Admiral specifically for Seaview. Of course it’s been applied to other uses as well, such as the FS1, but its first application was the bow view ports," she explained. She then looked at Nelson and remarked, "I’m going to look over those photos that came in, then I need to meet with Chip and the rest of the team after we get fully out to sea."

"Very well.... and afterwards I want you to go see Jamie," he quietly agreed as he reminded her about the promise she had made to go to SickBay once they were underway.

"I will, don’t worry. I’ll see you all later." Karen got up from the table and walked into the Control Room.

Chip was standing near the Fathometer, watching the changing depths as they passed through the channel. He glanced over at Karen as she stopped by the chart table and then came over to talk when she motioned him to her.

"Yes, ma’am?"

"Is all the equipment aboard?"

"Yes, I saw to it myself."

"Good. As soon as we clear the channel and you can spare about 30 minutes, come on down to my cabin. I need to talk to you and the other two team leaders. The satellite photos came in last night and I had Bryan make blowups of the pertinent sections. Oh, and bring Chuck and Matt with you as well. I need their opinions as well since they’re our demolitions and electronics experts. Looks like we may have to take out some booby traps before we can get within the immediate perimeter of the Lab," she explained to him.

"Right."

She turned to leave and then a wave of nausea hit her stomach. Standing there, she suddenly felt like the room was spinning around her and she felt literally like a truck had just run over her. She grabbed hold of the corner of the table and held on. Chip looked at her and became slightly alarmed.

"Are you okay? You look like you’re sick."

"I’ll be okay in a minute. Must have been something I ate that didn’t agree with me. Let me sit down a minute." She grabbed the stool near the table and sat down. Then as quickly as it had appeared, the nausea disappeared.

"You want some water?"

"Thanks, but no. Must have been something I ate this morning. We ate pretty early and even that was hurried."

"Maybe you ought to go see the Doc."

"Harriman’s told me the same thing. Looks like you both may be right. Listen, meet me in my cabin when you can with the others. I’m going to go on down to SickBay and find out what’s going on. If for some unforeseen reason I can’t make this dive, you’re going to have to be completely briefed and ready to go in my place."

"Okay...will do. And Karen..."

"Yes...."

"Take it easy, will you?"

She smiled warily and waved as she headed through the hatchway. Karen had a frightening thought as she walked slowly toward SickBay. It had been a long time since she had experienced these particular feelings. Lately, she had had some disturbing symptoms that made her suspicions even more troubling. This was the last straw. There was no putting it off now...She had to know for sure. Entering the SickBay, she looked around for Will Jamison, the ship’s doctor. Two corpsmen were busying themselves with the recent incoming inventory of supplies. She found Jamison in his office checking over his records.

Lightly knocking on the doorframe, she stuck her head into his office.  "Got a minute, Will?"

He looked up and smiled. "For you, sure. Come on in. What can I do for you?"

Closing the door, she took a seat across from him. This was going to be a bit difficult, but he was the ship’s doctor and would keep things confidential.  "Will, I need you to run a series of tests on me."

"What for? You not feeling well?"

"No, I...actually I need you to run a pregnancy test."

Jamison looked at her with no hint of the surprise he felt. He had learned early on to keep a straight face where his patients were concerned.  "Symptoms?" he asked her.

She almost felt embarrassed talking to him about it. "Swelling and tenderness in my breasts. I felt nauseated up in the Control Room a little while ago. I’ve had several spells of nausea lately. I’m feeling tired, no energy...and I’m over two weeks late on my cycle."

"Timing?"

"About the time he left for DC, the best I can account for," she thought out loud, "But then again, we haven’t exactly been monks."

"Does he know?"

"No, I haven’t discussed it with him. I want to make sure before I say anything. Jamie, what if I am? I’m 44. Caitlin’s twenty-two years old. I can’t do this again at this time of my life."

"Well, let’s do the tests and then we’ll know. If you are, then you two are going to have to have a LONG talk. If not, then there’d be no need to say anything to him. There could always be something else wrong, you know. "

"Yes...I know that. Okay...let’s do it."

Jamie walked out of his office and returned with a syringe, cotton, and an alcohol swab. She rolled up the sleeve of her blouse and he proceeded to withdraw a tube full of blood. He rubbed the insertion point with the alcohol swab and placed the cotton ball over it.

"I’ll call you later." he remarked. He could tell by the expression on her face that she wasn’t exactly pleased with the prospect of the possible outcome.

Karen left SickBay and walked slowly to her cabin. Looking around her, she thought about how things had changed over the past 5 years since she first came aboard. Most notably had been her marriage last year to Admiral Harriman Nelson, the builder/owner/creator of the Seaview and the head of the Nelson Institute of Marine Research.

How could this happen? I’ve been taking my pills regularly. Lord, this is not something I really want to deal with.

She and Nelson were married in a large military wedding a year ago last April. It was his first and her second marriage, having lost her first husband years before in an automobile accident. She had a daughter, Caitlin, by that first marriage. But she and Nelson had never even remotely talked about the possibility of her becoming pregnant. She had meant to have surgery done but never could seem to make time for it. Now...

She opened the door to her own cabin and was bombarded with pictures of the two of them as well as pictures of Caitlin.

Well, kiddo, you always wanted a little brother or little sister. Looks like you might just get your wish...Lord, what am I thinking?...This can’t be happening.... I can’t be pregnant.... I just can’t be.

Her gaze fell upon the picture of them taken on their wedding day. A smile crossed her face as she remembered every detail of that beautiful wedding.  Sitting down in the chair behind her desk, she leaned back and rocked.

A baby. Our baby...What are you thinking, Karen?...This can’t be happening!

Now she was restless. She paced the floor in her cabin, looking constantly at the clock. Finally, she decided that she would lie down for a while. She suddenly felt so very tired, drained of any energy that she had.

Oh, God. I remember this. First trimester equals no energy. Laying her head against the pillow, she quickly dozed off to sleep.

Before she knew it, there was a knock at the door. Sitting up on the edge of the bunk she rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she answered, "Come in."

Will Jamison opened the door slowly and stepped inside. Closing the door, he had some reservations about the news he was about to deliver.

She looked at him and then instinctively knew the answer.  "Was I right?" was all she asked.

"Yep. And from what you told me, I’d guesstimate about six to eight weeks at the most, too. I’ll need to do an examination on you to be absolutely sure." he told her. He was amazed; however, he realized that he shouldn’t have been. It had been his experience that women were more in tune with their physical being then men ever would be.

"When should I have the amniocentesis?"

"I’m going to give your ob/gyn a call shortly and we’ll set it up. You need to have it at about 13 to 14 weeks. Karen, you’ve got to tell him. You have no choice."

"I know that. It’s just that...this...is...totally unexpected. I’m in total shock here."

"I’ll bet!"

"Jamie, what if something’s wrong? What if it’s not right?" she pensively asked, looking at him in concern

"Karen, that’s something that you and he are going to have to talk out and decide on. You’ve already had one health pregnancy. However, as I understand it, you did miscarry on your first. You’re healthy and as long as there’s no problems on either side genetically, you’re looking at a very good chance to have a very healthy baby."

Jamie got up to leave. As he opened the door to go out, he turned back to her. "As of right now, Mrs. Nelson, you are on temporary restrictive duty. Absolutely no diving. Is that clear?"

She looked up at him and nodded. That thought was already in her head. Actually, to be truthful, she hadn’t been down in weeks. Another seven and a half months was going to be hard. Chip would have to be informed immediately of the situation since he was her second on the team and this particular mission was way too important to cancel simply because she couldn’t dive. No, Chip would have to assume command of the team while in the water...she could coordinate activities from Seaview.

What was she going to tell Harry? More importantly, how was she going to tell him? After Jamison left the cabin, Karen sat down behind her desk. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear the knock on her door. The second time it was louder.

"Come."

The door opened and in walked Chip Morton, Kowalski, Bob O’Brian, Chuck Maynard and Matthew Lynch.  "Reporting as ordered, Captain," Morton remarked, using her military title instead of her more personal one.

"Uh...oh, yes, Chip...come on in, guys. We’ve got a mission to plan."

The four men pulled up chairs around her desk and waited. Chip noticed that she seemed to be a bit preoccupied but decided that it was simply because she wasn’t feeling well. As she handed out photo enlargements of the underwater laboratory, she started to explain.

"The overall pics came in last night. I had enlargements made of the immediate area. What you see here is the lab with the outer perimeter. Matt, it looks like there’s some sort of electronic ‘fence’ around that thing. I want a complete analysis and if you need any further detailed pics, let me know. I’ll transmit the requests directly to NASA so that they can feed it into the uplink for the SpyLink satellite. Chuck, after Matt makes his analysis, get with him on what needs to be taken out and when. Decide what plastics we need and get them ready. I want everyone outfitted with everything necessary to take that lab down and out in one fell swoop. We won’t get a second chance."

O’Brian was looking at the photos of the lab itself. "Captain, what about the drugs themselves? What are we supposed to do with them?"

Karen leaned back in her chair and looked at her team leaders. They had faced a lot of things together in the past few years, but this would be the first time that they would act as a pseudo SWAT team.

"As I understand it, the drugs will be transferred from the Lab to Seaview for immediate transport back to the mainland. Once aboard here, they’ll be in our protective custody until we reach base back at the Institute. At that time, Norman Thompson, the DEA agent that’s currently aboard, will have the cargo off-loaded and ultimately destroyed. Gentlemen, I cannot emphasize enough the importance of this mission. This is the first time that the Institute and Seaview has been asked to help in drug interdiction. If we manage to pull this off without a hitch, there maybe a second time. There’s a lot of cocaine being manufactured down there and if we can take it out, it’s going to hurt someone’s pocketbook in a very big way." Leaning back over her desk, she looked at the men and continued. "Guys, some of you have families. Think of it this way...you’re going to be helping to get this poison off the streets."

"Captain, do we completely destroy the lab after the drugs have been loaded aboard Seaview?" Kowalski asked.

"Yes...we blow the thing sky high...leave no trace of it. We’ve got to make it so that there is no way that the cartels can reactivate it."

The team leaders and experts took the photos and left. Only Chip Morton was asked to remain behind.

"Chip, you’re going to have to assume command of the teams outside. I’ve been grounded," she informed him. She didn’t want to explain the circumstances until she had had a chance to let Harriman know.

"Are you okay?"

"Well, that’s going to be a matter of perspective, I suppose. I can’t explain right now, but I will shortly. By the way, do you by chance know where the Admiral is?"

"Yeah, he’s gone down to his cabin. Said he’d be down there for a while going over some of the aspects of the mission."

"Was Thompson with him?"

Chip shook his head and replied, "No, don’t think so. Why?"

"I just need to talk to him in private," she told him as she got up from behind her desk. "Okay, Chip, let’s get everything rolling and ready by the time we get there. I need to find out what the strategy is for Seaview when we get to the area and how far away we’ll be from the lab. If we sit directly over head, they’ll know something’s up. But at the same time, we can’t be too far away. At least the terrain isn’t too bad and the depth you’re going to be working at will be fairly easy. I just don’t want to have our hand tipped before we get there."

The two walked out of her cabin and proceeded down the corridor. As she rounded the corner and saw his cabin door, she looked at Chip and said, "I’ll talk to you a little later. I need to talk to him right now and I really don’t want to be disturbed."

"No problem. I’ll let Lee know and start assembling the team and the equipment."

"Great...and Chip?"

"Yes?"

"Don’t say anything until I explain...ok?"

He looked at her cautiously. That look...he had seen that look before...on Matty’s face. No, it couldn’t be..."Sure, no problem."

"Thanks. Talk to you in a little while," she replied as she took hold of the doorknob. Morton left her as she slowly opened the door to Nelson’s cabin. Taking a deep breath, she walked in.

Karen found her husband at his desk pouring over a myriad of papers on his desk. He looked up in surprise as she slid into the chair across from him.

"You busy?" she asked of him.

"No, not really. I’m just going over some of the information that Thompson brought aboard. I take it that you’ve just finished with the team leaders?"

"Yes, they’ve all been informed and Matt and Chuck are doing their own analyses of the situation now. Looks like some sort of electronic force field or ‘fence’ is in place. I need to know exactly what it is before we go in. Also, I also need to know where you intend to put down so that we know how far we’re going to be from the target area. Harry, it can’t be too far, but we also don’t want to let them know we’re coming, either."

"I understand that. Frankly, I want to cruise the area a bit. Let them know we’re here but ‘let’ them see we’re on a training mission and no threat to them," he informed her as he leaned back in his chair. He looked at his wife and noticed that she seemed worried about something. He had learned to read her moods and expressions well in the past year since they had married. Something was definitely bothering her. "Did you go see the doctor?"

She looked at the man sitting across the desk from her. A four-star admiral, a scientific genius, world renown, and her husband for a little over a year.

"Well?...Did you?"

She kept looking at him.

"Karen, are you okay?"

"That’s are relative question right now. Do you have time to talk?"

"Of course I do. Do you want some coffee?"

Suddenly aware of her situation, she declined. "No…thanks. Actually, I’d rather have a glass of water instead."

He poured himself a cup of the hot coffee from a pot that stood on the side table near the door. Then taking a glass from the table, he poured her a glass of cold water. Sitting down across from her, he looked at his wife and waited for an explanation.  "Karen, what’s wrong?"

"Harriman, I believe we have a slight problem." She was trying very hard to figure out how to tell him. This was not going to be easy.

He looked at her. Obviously she was worried about something. "What did Jamie say was wrong?" Now he was getting worried.

Hesitating a moment, she then quietly said, "Harriman, I’m...I’m pregnant."

Silence. Total dead silence. He was stunned and speechless. "Pregnant?!" he finally exclaimed.

"Yes, dear husband. Pregnant. About 6 to 8 weeks Jamie and I are guesstimating."

"How?...when...?!"

"When would be around the time you left for DC...must have been that night on the beach...and the how, my dear husband,...well, Harriman, that was the good old fashioned way," she quietly answered him.

Harriman Nelson sat straight up in his chair and looked at his wife for the longest time. This was a factor that neither of them had ever counted on. He knew that she was still quite capable of having children, but quite frankly, the subject had never come up. He had always assumed that since her daughter was 22, she had no further plans for a family, and he’d never even considered it.

A baby?!...Our baby! That thought suddenly hit him like a thunderbolt.

She looked at him for some sort of reaction apart from being stunned. Was he pleased or was he angry? Usually she could gauge his moods but this was an extreme situation.  His prolonged silence began to have an effect on her. Maybe it was the hormones kicking in or maybe it was the fact that she felt he was angry...whatever...but it was beginning to be harder to look at him without tears in her eyes.  Finally, as a tear flowed from the corner of her eye, she looked at him and quietly said, "I’m sorry, Harriman. This wasn’t supposed to happen...I’m so sorry."

Suddenly he realized what was going on and he could have kicked himself. Getting up and coming over to her, he pulled her gently up to him. Wrapping his arms around her and kissing her tenderly, he smiled at her.

"Don’t you ever say you’re sorry to me, Karen. Certainly not about this. It’s just...I’m stunned, that’s all. We hadn’t discussed this and I just assumed that it wouldn’t happen."

"Well, guess what? It did...and now we’ve got some decisions to make."

"What has Jamie said?"

"I’m to go for an amnio at about 13 to 14 weeks. We both have to go in for genetic counseling. Jamie’s going to set it up through my ob/gyn. Of course, by that time, the first trimester will about be over. By the time we get the results from the test, I’ll be in my second trimester. Termination of the pregnancy will be a little more complicated than in the first trimester. We’ve got a few weeks to make a decision, Harriman. But we DO need to make one. One way or the other."

"How are you feeling?  Are you all right, I mean…"

"Tired. Edgy. Typical of first trimester. Actually, no morning sickness so far. I didn’t have it with Caitlin, either. But I am finding that I do have to eat a full breakfast now." She felt so very safe in his arms. She desperately needed his support and understanding right now. Looking up at him, she saw the overwhelming concern in his eyes. "Harry, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I must have gotten a bad batch of pills. Either that, or..." she then grinned a little and a mischievous twinkle showed in her eye, "...there’s more to you than I ever knew."

He held her close then kissed her tenderly. Our baby...Oh, my God!  "Karen, I can’t say ‘don’t worry’ because I know you’re going to. And so am I. We’ll take it one day at a time right now, all right? No matter what, I love you. Remember that."

"One thing. Until we know the results from the tests, I’d rather not say anything to anyone. Call me superstitious or cautious. Whatever. I’d just rather wait. I don’t want to even tell Caitlin at this point."

"Do you think that’s wise?"

"Yes, I do. I can just hear my little mother hen right now...And should we decide to continue with it, she’ll be more so."

A million thoughts just hit him. "Shouldn’t you be resting or something? We’ll get you back to the Institute as soon as we can after the mission’s over. Or I can fly you back right now."

She looked up at him and laughed. "Good Lord, Harry, I’m pregnant, not disabled. I don’t need to be babied. At least, not just yet, anyway. It’s a very common, natural condition for women. We’ve been doing it for tens of thousands of years now. But yes, I am going to go back to my cabin and lie down for a while. Jamie has already put me on restrictive duty. No diving. That means that Chip will have to assume control of the team in the water during the mission."

"You need to tell him why. It’s only fair."

"I know. I’d already thought of that. Maybe we ought to tell Lee and Chip together. They do deserve to know."

"You want to do it right now? They need to know as soon as possible, Karen. Especially Chip."

"It’s funny, but I have a very strange feeling that Chip already has an idea. You have to remember that he’s a new father himself. And Lee has a son of his own, Harry. In one sense of the word, I don’t think it’s going to come as a big shock."

Harriman Nelson held his wife and put her head on his shoulder. He was still in complete shock at the news she had just shared with him. A baby!

"Why don’t you lay down here and take a nap while I finish going over these things?"

"Maybe I should," she replied as she hopped up on his bunk, stretched out, and picked up a book he had placed in a holder near the light. She knew he liked to read for a while before going to bed. He always seemed to have something on the nightstand beside the bed at home. Generally it was not what she would have chosen, being that it was usually something on naval history or tactics or a classical novel. Her own tastes leaned more toward murder mysteries. Today’s selection was Moby Dick. Smiling to herself, she knew that it would definitely put her to sleep.

Nelson sat at his desk across the room and tried to concentrate on his work. He found his mind was wandering as he occasionally glanced up and watched her. Before long, he looked up and saw that she had gone to sleep with the book still in her hands. He got up, took a blanket from the foot of the bunk and gently covered her up. Almost instinctively his hand strayed to her stomach and he held it there for the longest time. He watched her as she slept and thoughts raced through his head.

Our child is sleeping in there. Our child, Karen! Oh, God. I must be crazy to want this. Oh Lord, please help us through this.

 

 

A couple of hours later, she awoke when she heard him pick up the microphone and quietly ask for Lee and Chip to come to his cabin. She turned over and looked at him, her eyes trying to readjust to the light. He was sitting across the room, at his desk, smiling at her.  "Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Thanks," she replied, slowly swinging her legs down to the floor. "You’ve got Lee and Chip on their way down here?"

"Yes, I thought we’d better tell them before we got any closer to the target. Why don’t you go ahead and wash up? They should be here any moment." He got up and came over to the bunk and sat down beside her. Putting his arm around her, he pulled her to him.

She looked up at him and smiled weakly. "Are you sure you’re all right with this?"

He kissed her lightly and looked deep into her brown eyes. "How could I not be all right with it? I love you...and I love that baby that’s inside you. I never in my entire life thought this possible. Hell, I never thought I’d ever get married after Kathryn was killed...but you came into my life and now look at what’s happened. Both these things have come true."

"It’s not going to be easy, Harry...for you or for me. There’s so much that can happen..."

"I know that...but we’ll face it together, all right? Now, get in and wash the sleep from your eyes. Lee and Chip ought to be coming through that door momentarily."

He kissed her again before she slid off the bunk and went into the head to wash up. About two minutes later, there was a short knock at the cabin door.

"Come in," Nelson called out.

Crane and Morton both came in and Nelson motioned for both of them to sit down opposite him. Karen came out of the head with a towel in her hands and sat back down on the bunk. Harry looked at her to start the ‘briefing’, but she motioned for him to begin.

"Karen’s going to be...out of the active team for a while...Medical leave. She’ll still supervise from here or from the Institute, but Chip will handle everything else."

It was Lee who turned to her in surprise. "Karen, what’s wrong? Is there anything we can do?"

She looked at Lee and then, with a somewhat half grin, explained further. "Let me qualify that statement of his. What he should have said was ‘maternity leave’, not medical leave."

Lee and Chip both looked at each other and at the same time replied, "What?!"

"You heard right."

"No!...You’re not serious?!" was Crane’s reply.

Nelson looked at him and grinned. "I think that was about my reaction, too. I just found out a few hours ago."

Morton looked at her. "That’s why you were sick in the Control Room. I wondered...I remembered what Matty looked and acted like when she was first pregnant with Alex."

She smiled, nodding her head. "Yeah, I didn’t know it then, but I suspected something. Remember, I’ve been through this before. It’s been a long time, but there are some things that you never forget. Look, the situation is this. I’m to go in for an amnio about 7 weeks from now. We’ll know if everything is all right from that. If you don’t mind, I’d rather you not say anything to anyone about this. At least not until we get the results back. Chip, you’re going to have to handle the teams. I can handle all administrative and coordination, but I can’t dive. Doc’s orders...and his." She looked over to her husband who was now leaning back in his chair.

Lee Crane immediately got up and grabbed her to give her a big hug.  "I can’t believe this. Does Caitlin know yet?"

She looked at him when her daughter’s name was mentioned. "No, and I don’t want to tell her just yet, either. I want to get the amnio tests back first. A lot of things are going to depend on that. So please, understand that we don’t want this to go any further than here."

Lee and Chip both turned to the Admiral. They were both looking to see how he was accepting all of this.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Lee?"

"I guess congratulations are in order, at least for now. And we’ll keep this confidential until you say otherwise."

"We’d appreciate that. So now you know the news, gentlemen. Chip, looks like you’re going to be in charge outside tomorrow. I don’t want Karen overloaded and stressed. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. We’ll make sure that everything’s taken care of. . Oh, by the way, what about Thompson? You know he’s going to ask questions."

Karen looked at Nelson and then answered before he had a chance. "We’ll take care of Thompson, Chip. You just be ready to dive."

"No problem. You just give the word."

Harriman Nelson looked at his two senior officers and smiled. "Good, then. You two can return to duty."

 

 

The two men left with very large smiles. However, they were bound by their word to keep the news confidential. However, it didn’t prevent them from trading a few good comments of their own regarding the couple.

"Do you believe this? She’s pregnant?!" Lee exclaimed, looking at Morton who had a huge grin on his face

"Well, I guess rank does have ‘privileges’ after all. Just goes to show that the ‘old, old man’ ain’t so ‘old’ after all!" Chip replied, slapping Lee on the back, as the two men headed back to the Control Room.

Each man reflected on how their children had changed their lives and each knew that this newest addition to Seaview’s ‘family’ would definitely change the lives of the Nelsons, and all who knew them, forever.

 

 

That evening, as Seaview cruised southward toward the Mexican border, the senior staff, along with Norman Thompson, met in the Officer’s wardroom. They would start a casual search pattern at 0800 the next morning. Once Matt Lynch and Chuck Maynard made their analyses and recommendations, the DWD teams would meet in the Missile Room for further instruction.

The complete senior staff was briefed as to the complete mission...they would seek out, capture, and destroy an underwater drug laboratory. Personnel would be arrested and detained in Seaview’s brig until they arrived back at the Institute. All drugs confiscated would be transported back and then transferred to the protection of the DEA for inclusion in any prosecution of personnel. The legalistic were going to be tricky. The distance of 250 miles out to sea put the lab in international waters. Add to the fact the problems of cooperation from the Mexican government if the lab was on their side of the border, even if it were in international waters.

After the briefing broke up, Karen and Harriman Nelson walked up to the ‘Front Porch’ and sat down with cups of coffee. Both of them had other things on their mind beside the events that the next day would bring. Shortly, Thompson joined them and poured himself a cup of the strong black coffee.

Sitting down in another chair at the table, he addressed Karen, "Captain Davis, I have to ask, what time do you intend to start the operation?"

Karen looked at Harry and decided now was as good as time as any to let Thompson in on some changes.

"Mr. Thompson, I’ve been grounded due to a medical condition. Commander Morton will assume command of the team during their activation. I’ll supervise from on board here. However, to answer your question, planning will begin tomorrow after I review the second set of recon photos."

He looked startled. He hadn’t expected this.  "But I don’t understand..."

"Doctor Jamison has grounded me. Because of that, Commander Morton will handle the team on the assignment, but you will go through me for anything that needs to be done. Just because I won’t be in the water doesn’t mean I don’t run this team."

He looked at her, trying to figure out what the problem was. There didn’t seem to be any outward appearance of anything wrong...  "I’m sorry that you won’t be handling the operation personally. I hope it’s nothing serious."

She looked at him and smiled slyly. "Oh, nothing that about seven months won’t cure." Karen then turned to Harry and said, "I’m going to turn in. The pictures should come in over night and I want to be up early to finalize the plans with the team. I’ll see you in the morning."

Thompson looked a little perplexed at her statement as he watched her leave but Nelson offered no explanation. Instead he simply sat quietly and sipped his coffee in quiet contemplation.  “I don’t understand…”

Nelson nonchalantly replied, “Doctor Jamison found that there’s a temporary medical problem.  Because of that, she can’t be cleared to dive.”

“But didn’t she know before she…”

“No…she didn’t,” the Admiral stated.  “And I happen to concur with the good doctor’s findings.  Now, as she stated, Morton will be in charge outside, but she handles everything else.  Do you have a problem with that?  If I were you…I would suggest that you don’t.”

“Sir?”  The DEA agent seemed confounded by the change in plans.  He didn’t like surprises at all and this was counter to everything that had been planned.

“Regardless of the fact that Captain Davis happens to be my wife, first and foremost she’s the Team’s leader.  She herself has to undergo periodic checkups.  Since you’re apparently an experienced diver, you’re more than well aware of the procedures.  However, because the Team uses highly specialized equipment and gases, that checkup is more thorough.  She’s not diving,” Nelson reitereated.

“Yes sir…I just meant…I mean, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong before…and…”

“Things happen, Mr. Thompson, you know that.  Sometimes…they just happen.”  And the Admiral finished his coffee and then poured himself another cup.

“Yes sir…” Thompson said and then shortly excused himself  to head for his cabin to prepare for bed. Tomorrow was going to be a very hectic day.

 

 

Karen Davis Nelson slowly got ready for bed. As she slowly brushed her hair, she looked at herself.

Pregnant!!…I’m pregnant!

Her hand reached down and she touched her abdomen softly as if it were hot to the touch. Smiling slightly, she still could not believe the news. Walking out of the head, she started to climb into her bunk when she suddenly decided that she didn’t feel like being alone. Grabbing her robe and slippers, she headed out the door and down the corridor. Reaching his cabin door, she opened it and found him standing in the doorway of his bathroom with a towel in his hand.

"Karen, what is it? What’s wrong?" he asked as he finished up. He was clad only in his pajama bottoms and as he reached for the top, he watched her stroll over to his bunk.

"Nothing...I just didn’t feel like being alone tonight, Harry," she replied as she situated herself in the bunk and slid up against the wall. Turning the covers down so he could get in, she looked at him seductively. "Better get in, Admiral. Pretty soon your wife’s not going to fit in here with you."

He laughed and slid in beside her. The bunks were obviously not made for two people but he managed to make enough room so that she was fairly comfortable. She snuggled up against him and lay her head against his arm.

"You know," she chuckled, "I’m going to be bulging out to here," and she put her hand above her stomach by about six to eight inches.

"And I’ll love every bit of it," he laughed.

Karen became quiet and then a bit reflective. "Harry, I’m scared. What if something’s wrong...what if something happens and the baby..."

He shifted his weight and turned to face her. Kissing the tip of her nose and then her forehead, he then took his finger and put it to her lips. "Sssshhhh...Karen, whatever happens, we’ll face it together, all right? No matter what it is. Now let’s see if we can get some sleep. It’s gonna be a tight fit in here but…I think we can make it.  Now, Captain…we’ve got a drug lab to take out tomorrow."

Nodding her acceptance of his words, she snuggled in closer and they both shortly drifted off to sleep.

 

 

During the Delta Watch, the satellite recon photos came in. Enlargements were made of the immediate area, and then Matt and Chuck went to work. They put together the necessary electronic equipment and plastic explosives that the teams would need to effectively disable the perimeter alarm system so they could do preliminary reconnaissance on the laboratory module itself. This was necessary because the team needed to know exactly where the escape hatches were located for entrance and exits. The DWD team needed to be able to quickly execute the take down. In doing so, there had to be a perfectly timed execution. They couldn’t give the lab personnel time to destroy any of the chemicals or the drugs.

At 0600, Nelson awoke and found his wife still in the same position she was in the night before. He gently withdrew his arm from under her head and then slipped quietly from the bunk. The cabin was dark and quiet as he walked over to his desk and turned on the desk lamp. It cast a soft glow in the cabin and provided him with an opportunity to look at her as she lay there.

A soft knock came at the door. Opening it, Nelson found one of the galley crew with a pot of fresh coffee. The man placed it on the table under the video monitor and then quietly left.  There was a slight sound and when Harry turned back toward the bunk, he found Karen looking at him.

"Is that fresh coffee I smell?" she yawned.

"Sure is. Want some?"

"Sure do. I’m going to have to limit my caffeine intake, but my morning cup is something I can’t do without."

Handing her a cup, he sat back down at his desk. He still had not digested the news from the night before...it was hard for him to believe that he was actually going to be a father.

She slowly drank the hot liquid and looked up occasionally at her husband. The last 24 hours had been memorable for both of them. Today wasn’t going to be easy, either. The primary planning of the takedown of the drug laboratory had to be done today. Everything had to be done with precise timing...with as little prior notice as possible. They couldn’t let the lab personnel have so much as a hint that they were coming.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked as they quietly contemplated each other.

She had spent part of last night awake and reflecting on part of that question. Watching him sleep, blissfully unaware of her being awake, had given her time to think about the future before them. She knew how to handle a baby...she had certainly done it before...but what about him? Could he handle it? The diapers...the midnight feedings...illnesses....trips to the pediatrician...colic...But then she had remembered Caitlin’s first smile...the first steps...her first words...asking for her momma or dada. She had seen her through her father’s death...and then watched as Caitlin played matchmaker between her and Harriman Nelson. Now Karen was going to bring another life into this world…she just hoped Harriman was ready for it.

"Yeah, I’ll be all right. I guess I just have to get used to it, too," she replied as she got down off the bunk and sat the coffee cup back down on his desk. "Well, now, husband mine, I do have a job to do today, even if I can’t exactly do it completely. Plans have to be made and I need to get cracking if I’m to direct this operation."

"Well, not before you eat some breakfast. Go back and get dressed and then meet me in the Wardroom at 0800. We’ll have breakfast and then you can start with planning the operation."

She smiled back at him from the doorway and gave him a mock salute.

"Yes, sir, Admiral Nelson, Sir."

Nelson shot her a look that was both disapproving yet humorous. His mind wandered back suddenly to a morning several years ago when she had thrown a pillow at him in their hotel room at the Williamsburg Inn. Karen had a strange sense of humor sometimes that constantly kept him on his toes.

"Will you get out of here and let me finish my work before breakfast?"

Her eyes laughed at him and then she slipped out the door and went to her own cabin.

 

 

After breakfast, Karen called all 15 of the team members of the DWD team into the officer’s wardroom as well as Matt and Chuck. Satellite photos of the lab as well as its perimeter were laid out on the table. Enlargements of the immediate area showed a large composite of pods interconnected and anchored to the ocean floor. Karen had determined that further reconnaissance would have to be made done at close range. Therefore a team of divers would have to make their way to the lab area to check out exactly what defenses were on the perimeter and, if it were possible, to find the exact entry portals for the lab. Norman Thompson had requested to sit in on the briefings. He sat quietly, over to the side, listening intently to Karen’s instructions.

The team broke up and headed for the Missile Room. Since Karen was unable to dive, Mike Thompson assumed command of Team One. As he and the other two divers suited up to head outside, Karen gave them their final instructions.

"Mike, make absolutely sure that you don’t attract attention. They already know we’re up here. I understand we’ve had cursory radio contact with them. So of ‘Hello, there...we’re here and do you need anything?’ kind of contact. Their answer was a very emphatic no with an attitude to match. The Admiral wanted them to know we’re here but that’s we’re simply ‘cruising’ by on a ‘seal counting’ mission...part of an experiment, so they know we’re up here. Now, we’re going to cruise about a mile or so away from the lab...then you all will head out in the mini-subs. Chuck will be the fourth man on Team One and he’ll also handle the analysis of the outer perimeter defenses," she instructed him. Mike was her second on Team One and she knew she could trust him to follow her orders to the letter.

"Yes, ma’am."

"Ok, finish suiting up and let’s see what we’ve got out there. Make sure all video and audio is on, but keep audio down to a minimum even though you’ll be on a secure channel, okay? Just in case their sonar is more than what we think. Add to the fact, I don’t want their radio system picking up on any of our transmissions," she added.

Mike finished suiting up and led Team One outside. Once they were safely away from the boat, Karen walked calmly up to the viewer in the Observation Nose. She hated sitting on the sidelines, but there was no other way out of it and even she had to admit the complete wisdom and necessity of it.

Norman Thompson walked in while she talking to Mike on the microphone. He had come to admire her devotion to the team and their devotion to her. In fact, the one thing he had picked up on while aboard Seaview was her crew’s devotion and loyalty to the top senior staff. It was amazing, he had thought to himself, that they would go through hell for both crew and boat.

He watched as Karen sat with a glass of water in one hand and a set of satellite photographs in the other. Standing behind her and off to an angle, he listened as she kept track of everything they said and made notations on the photos of what they saw. The technology was astounding. He was amazed that he could see the underwater rock formations and fish as clearly as if he were within 6 feet of them.

About 30 minutes after they had started out, they arrived just beyond the outer perimeter of the lab area. Leaving the mini-subs behind about 500 feet from one of the electronic security posts, the four divers departed and started their reconnaissance mission. Chuck headed for the electronic post and started making his analysis.

"Captain, can you see what I’m seeing?"

Karen had been watching intently. Harriman Nelson, Lee Crane, and Chip Morton had now joined her. What she was looking at deeply interested her. There was a series of metal poles with electronic sensing devices built into the side of each pole. Each pole measured about 30 feet in height according to Chuck. There were no visible wires so it was obvious that the entire system was computerized. Chuck checked the first pole with a special monitoring device he had devised. It was necessary to ascertain the exact radius around and above each of the monitors.

"Chuck, can you tell how far above the pole the perimeter extends?" asked Karen. She stood up and looked closely at the pole as Maynard’s camera gave them a close up view.

"Not yet, Captain. Checking now."

Norman Thompson looked up at the television monitor and watched as the crewman performed several tests to answer that question.

"Captain, looks like it extends about 100 feet above the poles...a total of 130 feet. With that in mind, their sonar would pick anything up coming over it."

Karen looked back at Harriman and Lee. Both men seemed intensely interested in the operation.

"Can we go over them?" Thompson asked.

"If we try, their sonar devices could very well pick up a diver. Apparently they’re able to differentiate between sea life and man, so going over at this point is no option.  This thing is apparently working like some sort of force field…go into it from any any direction, and you get nailed," Karen explained. She turned back to the screen. She could see one or two of the other team members in the foreground, taking recon photographs and checking for any other perimeter devices.

"Chuck, finish making your assessment and get back here. Mike and Tom should have their work just about finished."

"Yes, ma’am."

Karen could then see the form of one of the divers approaching Maynard. It was Tom Johnson.

"Captain, I think I’ve found the entry portal. I’ve followed the perimeter around and taken photos at every angle."

"Good, Tom...now all of you...get back to the mini-subs and bring the information back for analysis."

The team slowly made their way back to the mini-subs and within 30 minutes was entering the compression-decompression chamber. The cameras were taken to photo processing and then the results were given to Karen Nelson.

 

 

Later that day, Karen sat in her cabin, pouring over dozens of photographs and looking at the log tapes from the mini-video recorders that are contained within each of the DWD team’s suits. Chip Morton sat opposite her, also going over the information.

Karen stood up and stretched. They had been at it for over three hours. She poured him a cup of coffee and herself a glass of juice. Sitting back down, she looked over at him and smiled slightly.  "It’s been a long time, but there are some things I do remember that I’m not supposed to do."

Chip put down the photo he was looking at and picked up the coffee cup. "How’s he doing with all of this?"

"Harriman?...Well, he’s finally come to terms with it, I suppose. Now, me...that’s a bit of a different matter. I guess I just figured my baby days were over. Personally, I really had never given it much of a second thought...until now."

Morton chuckled a bit. He was remembering the first few weeks of being home with Matty after Alex was born. "You know...it’s going to be a real dose of hard reality for the Admiral. I wonder if he even knows how to change a diaper."

Karen started to laugh. "I don’t know, but he’s definitely going to learn. I certainly had to." She then sat back down and picked up another photograph. Something about it made her pick up a magnifying glass. "Damn!!! I don’t believe it!"

Chip looked up and was about to say something when she got up and walked around to him.

"Take a look at this. I don’t believe it."

He took the glass and photo from her and peered at it closely. At first, he couldn’t make out the shape she was referring to, but then the realization began to sink in. An underwater bomb. What in God’s name was an underwater drug laboratory doing with enough explosives to blow it and anything else within a mile radius sky high?

"A bomb?"

"Yep, that’s exactly what it looks like. Our friends play dirty, Chip. The Cartel’s perfectly willing to blow that lab and everyone with it to smithereens rather than let it be captured. This is going to make the job a bit harder. Somebody had to know how to make that kind of high tech explosive. And I want to know who it is."

"Yeah, but how? That bomb’s inside the perimeter. To disarm it, we’ve got to get past the detection devices. And we can’t get past them without activating the bomb."

"Well, bomb makers are a very unique bunch. They actually take pride in their little creations. What we’ve got to do is get in there, past those poles, and take an x-ray of the device. Then we can get Thompson and maybe the FBI’s help to provide us with the maker and possible schematics. The FBI should have files on any known bombers and their ‘children.’ First, we’ve got to get the team past the detection poles. You got any suggestions?"

About that time, there was a knock at her cabin door. After she acknowledged and granted entrance, Harriman Nelson walked into his wife’s cabin. Pulling up a chair, he looked at her and his executive officer for a progress report. She showed him the photograph and explained what it was and what they faced.

"What do you propose to do?" he asked, taking a closer look at the photograph.

"We’ve got to find a way to get to it first.... Apparently their detection devices are sensitive enough to distinguish between man and fish...I was thinking…what if...if...if we could get the team by with dolphins? Doesn’t Lucius have a group of dolphins he’s been working with that we could possibly use?" she asked, referring to Commodore Lucius Emery, head of the Institute’s Cetatian Studies Center. She was standing now near her husband’s chair, trying to think as he and Chip Morton were looked over the photos.

"It’s possible...It would take about a day to get’em here. But it just might work. However, you must remember, Lucius is real particular where his ‘children’ are concerned," Harriman Nelson agreed. His old friend had done some amazing work in working with dolphins and was quite proud of it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized the idea had potential. "All right, if we can get them here, how long would it take for you to get this phase of the operation done?"

"Well, the bomb’s totally unexpected. That’s going to put us back on the timetable. But to be honest, I want that bomb disabled before we go in there. If the team can go in along side the dolphins...sort of in their shadow...they could get in and photo the inner workings...we could get an ID on the maker possibly through the FBI...and then deactivate it. What I’m afraid of is some idiot inside those pods pushing the button the minute one of the team pops through the hatch. From what I’m seeing here, that bomb would blow up the lab, my team, and Seaview. I’m not willing to risk that."

Nelson picked up one of the photos and looked at the outline of the bomb. It had a cylindrical shape and was supported by a stand with five legs. Its height, he judged, was roughly two to three feet high and possibly about two feet in diameter. A device of that size could only mean one of great explosive magnitude.  "I’ll talk to Lucius and get the dolphins underway. You know, however, he’s going to want to oversee the use of his ‘children’," he told Karen after handing her the photo.

"I don’t care...we just need to get them here ASAP. We may well be running out of time. You told these people we were here on a seal counting experiment. Stay too long in one place and we’ll arouse too much suspicion," she replied.

"Who have you got trained that can work with the dolphins?" he asked.

Chip looked up and replied, "I can...and most of the leaders can. Tom and Mike are trained, too."

Karen then countered, "That makes five, at most. We’ll have to settle for that...we’ve got no other choice. Wonder if it’s possible to bring in a couple of the other members of the team to help with the posts?"

Morton shook his head. "I wouldn’t. At least, not now. We need to know how to deactivate the bomb first. That’s the first concern. If we can get five of us past the posts and photo the device and get out safely, that’s enough for right now."

Karen listened to her second in command. She smiled to herself.  This was one of the reasons why she had him as her second.  He played the devil’s advocate role very well. "You’re right, Chip," she replied. Turning then to her husband, she remarked, "Ok, let’s get Lucius on the horn and get those dolphins here. We’re stuck until we can get in there and see what we’re really looking at."

Nelson reached over and flipped a switch on her desk intercom. "Sparks, get the Institute on the radio and have them find Lucius for me. As soon as you do, switch it down to Captain Davis’ cabin. And make sure it’s on a secure channel."

"Yes, sir," came the reply.

Morton looked over at the couple. It amazed him sometimes that they were able to work so smoothly with each other. Karen was very strong willed, as was the Admiral. In so many ways, they were perfectly attuned to each other. But he had also seen the times when they would grate on each other...usually when one wanted something the other thought wasn’t right or possible. Matty was a lot like Karen Davis Nelson....both women were strong...much stronger in will than either would ever admit to. And Karen, in her days before the marriage to Nelson, had stood up to him...had withstood that Irish temper...on more than one occasion. And, if truth be known, had usually won about half the rounds and lost the others.

"Well, if we’re going to have to be on hold for a while, I’d like to go get some rest," he requested.

Nelson looked at her and then silently nodded.  Looking back at Morton, he stated, "Go on, Chip...get out of here and go get some sleep. Once Lucius and those dolphins get here, there won’t be any rest for anyone for a while."

Morton left them and headed back to his own cabin. Once inside, he decided that a nap would do him some good. Even though he hadn’t accompanied Team One outside, he had kept apprised of their progress nonetheless. He knew every movement, heard every word that was said. He and Karen Nelson had then gone over the video and audiotapes as well as the still photography. If there was a chance of infiltrating that complex, it would have to be with the dolphins as their shields.

 

 

Later that night, Seaview surfaced and received a human passenger, Commodore Lucius Emery, head of Cetatian Studies at the Nelson Institute of Marine Research. The other passengers of the transport helicopter had been deposited in their natural habitat and awaited their friend. They wouldn’t stray far from the giant gray fish. They sensed their friend was inside it.

Lucius was one of Harriman Nelson’s oldest and dearest friends. He, in fact, had been with him since the inception of the Institute. So when he came aboard, he went directly to Nelson’s cabin.

"Reporting as ordered, Harry...So...what gives? How come Karen’s not diving? I figured she’d want smack dab in the middle of this one for sure," he asked as he went straight for the bottle of Scotch that Nelson kept in the bottom drawer of his desk. Pouring himself a small drink, he then downed it in one gulp and sat down in the chair opposite the desk. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. Lucius hated the constriction of ‘proper’ uniforms. He was much more at home in rumpled khakis or a wet suit and in the aquarium with the dolphins.

Harriman Nelson allowed his old friend the freedom of familiarity in his cabin. Outside it, was a different matter. But here, within the inner sanctum, the two men were always on equal footing. "Karen’s been grounded medically, Lucius. In fact,...it’ll probably be close to a year before she’ll be able to dive again," he told his old friend as he poured himself a glass of the Scotch.

Lucius, holding a drink in his hand, looked over at Nelson in concern. "Harriman, what’s wrong? Is it serious?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, held up his glass as if to study the contents closely and grinned. "No, only if you consider pregnancy overtly serious."

Lucius’s mouth dropped wide open, unable to speak. When he finally regained his composure, he exclaimed, "Pregnancy?.... Karen’s pregnant?"

"Yes, Lucius, pregnant."

"Shit!  Harry..." he stammered, "That would make you a...a..."

"...a father. Yes, Lucius...I know."

"Oh, my God...Harriman...you’re going to be a father!"

"Yes, Lucius...I know!..." Harriman Nelson chuckled. He was actually enjoying seeing his old friend totally flustered. He looked up at the shorter man as he now stood leaning over his desk.

"God, Harry, how did this happen? I thought that . . ."

"Well, as my wife has most politely informed me, Lucius...it happened the good, old fashioned way...Actually, to tell you the truth, it’s taken both of us by complete surprise."

"I bet!  Is she okay?...I mean, her and the baby?"

"Yes...she’s to go in for an amniocentesis at 13 to 14 weeks, and Doctor Jamison has confirmed it...and grounded her. She can, and will, direct the team’s activities from here and the Institute...Now, this information will not leave this cabin, is that clear, Lucius? Caitlin doesn’t even know yet. Karen doesn’t want it public knowledge until the amino tests are back," Nelson explained. He completely understood his wife’s want and need for privacy in this matter. If the tests came back with certain results...Harriman didn’t want to think about the effect it could have on both of them.

"Sure, Harry…mum’s the word. So, how’s she taking it? Hell,...how are you with all of this?" he grinned as he took a sip of the golden liquid.  “Oh, man…Tony Rennalt is gonna have a field day with this when he finds out!”  Emery was referring to the Institute’s head of Engineering and an old friend of Nelson’s who’d actively ‘campaigned’ to get Nelson and Davis together.

"Well, we’re both shocked...but...actually, Lucius...I’m a bit overwhelmed, but pleased, with the prospect. As for Tony, I’d prefer that you don’t tell him.  Let me handle that.  Personally, I think I want to have a little fun at Mr. Rennalt’s expense.  Besides…” and Nelson chuckled a bit, “it’d do him some good to play the guessing game for a bit.  However, I really have to put it on the back burner for right now. That laboratory is what we’ve got to concern ourselves with right at this moment. Karen wanted your ‘kids’ to help get her team past some electronic detection devices. The DWD team will then proceed to a bomb that’s outside the lab, analyze it, and deactivate it," Harriman explained to his old friend. He got up and walked around the desk and then seated himself on the edge of it. Picking up a picture of the bomb, he handed it to Lucius and said, "You know, this whole operation here was supposed to be over with today...this ‘thing’ has upset that schedule. But there’s no other way around it. To get to the lab, that bomb has to be disarmed."

"Sounds like they’ve got a major problem . . .but my ‘babies’...and no pun intended, Harry...will be able to help."

"Good. I’ll get Karen down here and she can brief you on what she needs done."

 

 

Karen, Chip Morton and Lucius met later that evening and planned the operation with the dolphins until well into the night and into the next morning. Once Lucius had indicated to Karen that he knew about the baby, she seemed to relax a bit and was more than jovial about it. In fact, there were more than a few jokes being bantered about regarding Harriman Nelson and the changing of diapers. Morton was a new father, Karen was already a mother, and Lucius...well, Lucius had known Harriman Nelson for longer than he himself cared to admit.

At one point, around 0130 the next morning, there was loud laughter coming from within Karen Nelson’s cabin. A sudden knock at the door brought Morton to his feet and a very sheepish grin to his face. He figured it was a very disgruntled junior officer, but upon opening the door, found a very rumpled, very tired, and very irritable Admiral Harriman Nelson standing in front of him, pajamas and robe on, hair slightly askew, and looking very perturbed.

"What the devil is going on in here?" he thundered. "Don’t you people realize that some of us are trying to get some sleep? You’re supposed to planning a reconnaissance mission, not..."

Karen couldn’t contain herself any longer. She burst out laughing hysterically and gently pushed past Chip to stand, grinning, in front of her more than slightly agitated husband. She realized that they had indeed been too loud, but they were also a bit ‘punch drunk’ from the late hour, too much work, and not enough sleep.

"Harriman, let’s step out side for a minute, shall we?" she asked, trying very hard to contain herself but had a very bad case of the giggles. She heard the slight snickers of the two men behind her.

"All right, Karen…" he consented, and then asked as she closed the door, "What’s the meaning of this?"

"Harry,...my dear, dear, sweet Harriman...it’s late...we’ve been working non-stop...we’re tired...and we’re punchy. Okay?....I know we got a little loud, but...come on!! Besides...Lucius’s having a very hard time envisioning you getting up in the middle of the night and changing dirty diapers." Karen was indeed having a very hard time keeping from laughing. It wasn’t really funny. It was just that...she was punchy...and tired...and something Chip had said just hit her the right, or wrong, way, and she had erupted into near hysterical laughter. She was trying so very hard to keep a straight face while talking to him...but it was getting very hard to do.

He watched her suspiciously. Deciding that the only way to break this whole nonsense up was to order them all to bed, he crossed his arms and took the standard ‘defensive’ stance of arms crossed, stern face, and a look that would send even the most experienced officer shaking in his shoes.

"Karen, you need some rest...And so does Morton and Lucius. Now!!!" the tone of voice was thunderous....and demanding.

“Harriman…we’ve got to finish up.  I’m sorry,” she tried to calm herself and be dignified at the same time.  Finally, “Look, I’m sorry…ok?  It’s just that…well, with everything that’s been going on, I just needed to cut loose a bit.  And…”

The two men inside could hear him through the door. They both knew what that tone of voice meant. The important question was...was she going to stand for it?  Her current physical condition, they knew, gave her a little more latitude than she’d previously had.

Lucius got up from his chair and quietly walked over to the door where he leaned up against it, his ear up against the door, and strained to listen to what he knew would be Harry’s temper in full force.

"What are they saying?" Chip Morton whispered, trying very hard to keep a straight face and not laugh at the sight of the small, rounder man standing there trying to listen to the conversation on the other side of the door.

"Sssshhhh, I can’t hear...either they’ve gone down to his cabin...or she’s speechless," Emery said. "Either way...I’ve got to know...we may have gotten that poor woman in some very hot water with him."

Emery then slowly but softly opened the door and peered out. What he saw brought a very broad smile to his face. Nodding slightly and then closing the door, he looked back at Morton and quietly said, "I think Karen Nelson has things well in hand. Harriman’s temper is tamed."

Five minutes later, Karen walked back into the cabin and resumed the meeting. Not a word about the incident was exchanged between the three, but Lucius shot Karen a look that told her he knew what had happened outside. Karen Nelson had turned the table on her husband in the same manner that he had done to her the day of their wedding. Then she sent him off to his bed...alone.

 

 

At 0800, the entire DWD team assembled for breakfast in the officer’s wardroom. The first stage would start at approximately 1000 hours with Mike Thompson, Tom Johnson, and Chip Morton going out with the dolphins. Bob O’Brian and Kowalski would wait in the wings to see if they were needed. Chuck had briefed Mike extensively on what he needed to x-ray on the bomb. It would be Chip and Tom’s job to get them safely through the electronic fence and keep Mike covered as he worked on the recon of the bomb. The dolphins would stay with them, also acting as ‘guard dogs’ and camouflage, then they would take them out of the area the same way they got in.

The three men suited up and exited through the escape hatch tube. Chief Francis Sharkey monitored the escape tube and the divers until they left the confines of the immediate boat perimeter. He then readied the compression-decompression chamber for their return. At this depth, decompression wouldn’t take as long, but it still had to be closely and carefully monitored.

Karen Nelson took up her post in the Observation Nose in front of the video monitor. Seated behind her were Lucius Emery, Harriman Nelson, Lee Crane, and Norman Thompson. The men clustered around the table in front of the great bow windows, talking low as not to break her concentration on the team. They all watched as the divers left the min-subs about 500 yards from the outer perimeter and then slowly swam in the rest of the way with the dolphins. As they neared the ‘fence’, Karen gave the instruction that only one of them would go though. The dolphin went through with no problem...no alarms, no reaction from the lab was noticed. When the animal returned to Mike Thompson, he grabbed hold of the dorsal fin and hung on.

"Here goes nothing," he softly said as he and ‘Star’ swam toward the fence.

Karen watched and held her breath, silently saying a prayer that he would make it through unharmed. The closer they got, the more riveted the crowd in the Nose became to the monitor. Finally, diver and dolphin approached the fence and Star swam right on through with Mike clinging close to his side.

"We made it!" he exclaimed softly.

Karen slowly let out an exhaled breath of silent thanks...but it wasn’t over yet. Picking up the microphone, she then told him, "Slowly approach the bomb and check for a timer. If it’s running, we’ve blown it. If not, we may have actually done it."

"Yes, ma’am"

Divers and crew alike watched as Mike allowed Star to take him over to the device. Slowly making his way around it, he found the door to open it. Reaching for his tools, he started to unscrew the front hinges.

"Mike, be careful...that thing could be booby-trapped," Karen told him. Chuck Maynard, her explosive expert, had just joined her. She handed him the microphone in deference to his expertise in the area of explosives.

‘Mike, this is Chuck...look, buddy...check the outer edges of the door for any type of sealant. Any kind. Tell me exactly what you see and feel."

The mini-cam in Mike’s helmet provided a pretty good view of the door to the device, but Chuck wanted an exact description. If there were any type of trip wire, it would be on that door. Mike’s gloved hand slowly edged its way around the outer edge of the door. "Chuck, looks like a clear silicon sealant...you know...like you’d put around a window frame."

"Ok, Mike...good. It’s to keep the seawater out of the inner workings. Now, what I want you to do is unscrew the doors and take your pin knife and slip it in between the door and the frame, then slowly break the seal."

"Gottcha, Chuck"

"Then when you’re through with that...watch for the air bubbles as you take the door off. Let the water in slow. When the pressure’s equal, you’ll be able to pop the door right off."

"Okay, buddy...here goes nothing!"

They all watched Mike as he took the screwdriver and unscrewed each of the six screws. Then, taking his pin knife, he slowly pierced the sealant and ran the knife around to loosen the seal. Tiny air bubbles escaped as the seawater slowly seeped into the container. When no more bubbles showed themselves, he then was able to pry off the door. They saw it float to the ocean floor and then Mike focused in on the inner workings of the bomb.

"Hey, Mikey, can you get me a little closer look see on that wiring?" Chuck asked his teammate.

"Sure, Chuck...hold on."

Mike got up as close to the device as he could so that, in actuality, the camera was only inches away from the detonation device. "Hey, buddy. Good...now hold it there just a few seconds. Let me see what you’ve got there."

Chuck moved in closer to the video monitor and used his fingers to trace the wires. Turning around to Karen, he remarked, "Looks just a bit complicated but not too bad. Let him get the x-ray and then we can let Mr. Thompson here feed it to the FBI for the rundown. Can’t see trip wires or devices from this, thought. I need to see the x-rays for that."

Norman Thompson had gotten up from his chair and walked up to the monitor. He was absolutely mesmerized by both the technology and the expertise these people showed. "How long will it be before we can go in and take down the lab?" he asked Karen Nelson.

"That will depend on how quickly we can get the schematics worked up. Once the x-ray is done, we fax it off to the FBI and see if they can help us. Right now, that’s the closest we come to it without knowing exactly what to do," she replied. Turning back around to the monitor, she picked up the microphone and told Mike, "Ok, you all finish up ASAP and get out of there. I want that x-ray film back here pronto so we can see exactly what we’re dealing with. Tom, did you get any other recon photos taken?"

Johnson came over the radio with "Yes, ma’am. Quite a few."

"Ok, you all get back here and we can finish this thing."

"Aye, Captain"

The three men and the dolphins made their way back to the mini-subs and headed back to the Seaview. Once safely back aboard, the film was developed, scanned, and uploaded (via DSL) to the FBI Headquarters. Now all they could do was wait.

 

 

Seaview surfaced and gently rode the waves as they cascaded against her gray bow. Riding topside was necessary because of the satellite uplink they needed to transmit the information to Washington, so here they would remain for a few hours until they received the requested information. Meanwhile, Norman Thompson was getting antsy. He personally didn’t like being onboard this ‘boat’, what some people would call a floating cigar...it made him claustrophobic...but he was here to oversee the take down of this lab. However, he was beginning to get frustrated because of the continued delays. He understood the need for caution...even the unexpected obstacles they kept encountering. But the anticipation of what was to come was beginning to grate on him. He had been very carefully watching this tightly knit crew work together like a very oiled machine. Everyone from Harriman Nelson on down the lowest ranked crewman was the epitome of dedication and skill. Yes, there were some laxes of discipline, but everything else overshadowed that one thing. Maybe that’s why he hated military types so much...all that strict discipline...always following orders to the letter...never questioning anything. But Seaview’s crew, and her officers, were...well...different, to say the least.

Thompson paced the Observation Nose. This operation was unlike any other he had ever participated in. In those, he could size up the situation within moments. But here...here it was a completely different environment...and he wasn’t in control...someone else was.

He wanted that laboratory. He wanted it so bad he could taste it. Miguel Rodriguez had made a fool of him the last time...and Thompson had vowed that if he were ever given another chance, Miguel would pay. Oh, he would pay, all right. Even if the other Cartel bosses were the unknowing ones to exact the price. Norman wanted to hit Rodriguez where it would hurt the most...right in the pocketbook. This had become one of the major laboratories and distribution centers in the Northern Hemisphere. To take this out would effectively take Miguel out of the business for around six months. It would also send a message to the other Cartel bosses that things of this magnitude would not now, nor ever, be tolerated. So while the DWD team, and the crew of the Seaview, awaited an answer from the FBI’s laboratory, he paced the area in the Observation Nose. He wanted this over with...he wanted that laboratory.

Lee Crane looked up occasionally from the chart table where he and Chip Morton stood working on where they would ‘cruise’ to next. He quietly noted the mildly agitated manner of the man as he sat, then stood, then sat again in the chairs in front of the great ‘glass’ bow. He hadn’t been able to figure out the DEA agent, but Lee knew one thing...he didn’t like him for some reason...and he wasn’t exactly sure why.

Karen walked down the spiral steps from A Deck and crossed over into the Control Room. She leaned over the chart table and nodded toward the Nose.  Within moments, Harriman Nelson also joined the group.

"Has he been there since we surfaced?" Nelson quietly asked of the two men.

"Yeah,...been pacing back and forth like a caged animal," Lee replied, watching the man up in the nose.

"Ya know, I can’t quite figure him out...one time, he’s calm and cool as can be...then, BOOM!...like that. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost think that this whole thing is part of a personal vendetta," Karen observed, scrutinizing Thompson intently as he moved back and forth in the Nose.

Crane watched him and then turned sideways toward his employer and his wife.  "Who knows?...Maybe it is. I learned a lot of things those three weeks down in Colombia and on that freighter. Loyalty to the drug lords is all supreme down there. They take care of the peasants in the villages who in turn take care of the drug lord."

The four silently observed Thompson as he nervously paced the Observation Nose. All they could do was wait.... wait for the FBI’s hopeful match of what Seaview had sent.

 

 

About eight hours later, Seaview received information from the FBI agent on this project, Walter Michaels. He called in and asked to speak with directly with Karen Nelson. Sparks relayed the video conference to her cabin where she, Harry, Chip Morton, and Chuck Maynard were assembled.

"Mrs. Nelson, I must first say, that even under these circumstances, it’s a pleasure to talk with you. Second, we have come up with a match on the maker for this device."

"Thank you, Mr. Michaels…and the name is Captain Davis, if you please.  Now, how bad is it? My explosives man is here. He’ll be in charge of the deactivation of the device."

"Okay, here it is. The device is fairly simple. This guy is basically known for complex bombs on land, not sea. Information has it that Rodriguez’s cartel contacted this guy to construct something that would go boom! if the alarms were tripped. I frankly don’t know how you got by the alarm system, but that’s three-fourths of the problem. It’s a simple electronic pulsator charge that your man ought to be able to deactivate easily. It’s tied into the ‘fence’ you’ve apparently penetrated."

Maynard looked over at Karen and made a motion with his finger across his neck, indicating to cut the volume on the video feed.

"Mr. Michaels, can you hold just a moment? I’ll be right back with you, " Karen told him and then muted the volume.  "What is it, Chuck? What’s the problem?" she demanded of Maynard.

"Captain, that device is not as simple as he’s saying...there’s more to it than that. Bombers love their creations...they’re like...children...to them. There’s something not quite right about this."

"Maynard, are you telling us you think that this guy’s lying?" Nelson asked as a curious eyebrow shot up

Harriman Nelson looked his crewman dead straight in the eye. There was no flinch, no flicker of uncertainty that he could detect. Maynard was absolute in his feelings on this issue. "Sir, all I can tell you is that bomb out there is a helluva lot more dangerous than what he’s letting on. Something’s screwy here, and frankly, I don’t like it!"

Karen sat back in her chair and looked at the figure on the videophone in front of her. It wouldn’t be the first time that a fed had not been completely forthcoming with all the information. All she had to remember was her past conversations with Michael Briggs.

Nodding at Maynard and then looking to Harriman for support and finding it, she then unmuted the audio portion of the videophone.

"Mr. Michaels, it has just come to my attention that the device in question is a bit more complicated and more powerful than you would lead us to believe. Now, either your intelligence information is wrong...or something's being withheld from us. Now personally I don’t care which it is, but what I do care about is that you, sir, are withholding vital information from us," she calmly but coolly declared.

Michaels refused to be bluffed. He was giving them all they needed to know, and therefore kept silent.

When she could elicit no further reaction from him, she sat back casually in her chair and told him coldly, "Mr. Michaels, may I remind you that you and those involved in this venture approached Admiral Nelson with regards to using the Institute’s facilities and Seaview on this little raid? He said ‘yes’ on the contingent that he have the full cooperation of all departments involved. And that, Mr. Michaels, means full cooperation from the FBI as well. Now, should you so chose not to cooperate and be forthcoming with all information that is necessary and that I’ve asked for, I will ask the Admiral to leave the area, and you and you band of merry agencies can fight this little war on their own. Rest assured, sir, I will not send my men into an area to do a job where all known factors are not given to us. Is that clear?!!!"

Michaels still refused to be further forthcoming with information. "Captain Davis, you've been given all the necessary information. Any more is totally unnecessary."

Karen’s knuckles were turning white where she was clinching them tightly. The pompous sonofabitch! By God, he’s not going to get my men killed because of his idiot attitude!!!  Her voice then turned ice cold.  “Mr. Michaels, perhaps you’re not familiar with military protocol.  The name is Captain Davis.  And you, sir, are withholding pertinent information.

There was a moment of silence and the next statement from Michaels capped it. "Besides, Captain Davis, you really don’t have any need for any further information. That’s on a ‘need to know’ situation and you, Captain, really have no need to know."

At that point, Harriman Nelson came out of his chair with silent rage. How dare this idiot address his wife, much less one of his officers, in this manner!!!!  He came around the corner of the desk and into Michael’s view.  In a controlled, yet strangely calm voice, he pointedly said, “Michaels, might I remind you, that you and your friend, Thompson, as well as the other agencies involved, asked for our help, and not the other way around? Now, since you refuse to give us the information we seek, I am pulling Seaview out of the area and will advise Captain Davis not authorize the DWD team to dive any further. As I told Thompson, she determines whether or not the team dives. It is up to her, and no one else, to make that decision. And without the team, you have no need for Seaview.”

Michaels looked totally teed off. Who the hell was he to tell him NO?

"Admiral Nelson, I can assure you that we’re giving you the appropriate cooperation that’s necessary in this matter,” the man told him.

The next thing that was heard was Harriman Nelson exploding in anger.  “Who the hell do you think you are, Michaels?”  And for the next five minutes, he blasted Walter Michaels for withholding the information from Karen and the team...that he would go over Michaels’ head to the Director of the FBI if necessary...and that this was not part of the agreement that was made in Bill Johnson’s office over a month ago. "What you don’t seem to comprehend, Michaels, is that without all the crucial information about that bomb, the DWD team will not dive. Under no circumstances. Now, you will provide all the information that is asked for...is that understood?"

There was a brief period of silence from the other side of the videophone. Nelson watched as the FBI agent seemed to confer with someone off camera. He had recently heard of certain federal agencies reluctance to work with each other, almost jealously guarding certain key pieces of evidence or information to insure that their particular agency got the recognition for the ultimate outcome. He would not be part of that kind of foolishness here. Either they cooperated fully, or he would have Seaview change course and head for home. Let these idiots fight it out among themselves. He was tired of their pettiness...and he wanted no part of it.

Shortly, Walter Michaels again addressed Harriman Nelson. "Admiral," he smoothly said, "There’s no need to get upset here..."

"Upset?...Michaels, either you give us that information, or by God, I’ll have Captain Crane change course and head back to Santa Barbara!! Now!!! I won’t be a part of your petty squabbles with other agencies."

"Admiral...what I was trying to say, sir, was that the information we have given you on the bomb is all that your people needs. As far as who planted it and why, that’s not really necessary, now is it?"  There was an air of arrogance and distain in the agent’s voice.

Karen looked at her husband and motioned for him to cut the video. Once he did so, she then got up from behind her desk and turned and said, "This team’s part in this mission is hereby over, Harriman. I absolutely will not put these men in the water under these conditions. That idiot has no earthly idea what we’re facing down here, and frankly, I don’t think he really gives a damn."

“I agree.  Get Thompson down here now.”

She flipped the switch on her intercom and said, "Norman Thompson, this is Captain Davis. Report to my cabin immediately!" Glancing over at Harry, she remarked, "This is bullshit, Harry...and I won’t have my team involved in it. I’ve put them at considerable risk already getting them in close to that thing in the first place…and now this fool won’t give up all the necessary information to disarm it? No, I don’t think so."  She was furious...In the five years that Harriman Nelson had known his wife, he had never seen her so enraged.

“I concur.  Pull the teams,” he firmly directed.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Norman Thompson had appeared as requested.

"Mr. Thompson, please sit down.”  Nelson told him.  As the DEA agent pulled up a seat, the Admiral’s eyes narrowed and he took his ‘command stance’ in front of him.  “I regret to inform you that the DWD team will no longer be a part of this mission.... And if you don’t have them, you don’t have Seaview either," Harriman Nelson informed him.

Thompson looked shell shocked. He looked from one face to the other and found the same expression. Something had just transpired and Nelson was pulling the rug out from under him.  "I don’t understand!!! What happened? The raid was supposed to go after the bomb was disarmed!"

Harriman looked at Karen to explain. She leaned slightly across her desk and told him exactly what had happened.  "Apparently, your friend at the FBI, Walter Michaels, deems full disclosure of the information on the bomb as unnecessary for us. Chuck here says the device is a lot more dangerous than they would have us to believe and when we requested full disclosure, they’ve refused, saying it’s on a ‘need to know basis’ and we don’t need to know," Karen told him, a sarcastic tone lacing the last part of the statement. She then leaned back and very casually but coldly continued. "Mr. Thompson, you’ve observed this crew...this team...and we will not dive without full disclosure of all facts.... And I mean all facts.... on that bomb. Now, either you get on that radio to Michaels and get the release of that information...or we head for home. Those are your only two options. But I will not put these men back in the water without it. Is that clear?"

Norman Thompson could not believe his ears. He’d known Walt Michaels for many years, and he’d also known him to withhold some information over the years...but never had he ever known him to withhold vital information necessary for a raid.

"Captain, I can assure you I knew nothing of..."

"Mr. Thompson, look, I personally don’t give a flying rat’s ass what you knew or didn’t know. I won’t put my men back in the water without full disclosure. Is that clear?" she quickly shot back. Karen Davis Nelson had come up against bureaucratic jealousies before, but this was unthinkable. People’s lives were at stake...her team’s lives...and she wouldn’t stand for it.

Then he suddenly felt the full brunt of Harriman Nelson’s fury.  "Thompson, you either get this crap straightened out, or Seaview sets sail back to the Institute. You have approximately five minutes. No more!!!"

The DEA agent looked into the faces of the four people in the cabin and saw one united front, then realized quickly that they were deadly serious.   "Very well, ma’am. Let me talk to Walt and see what I can do. Where can I..."

Harry stood up and sternly told him, "You can use the video phone in my cabin. Come with me."

Karen then turned her attention back to monitor and unmuted the audio.  "Mr. Michaels, Mr. Thompson will be calling you momentarily. I suggest you two get your act together or under Admiral Nelson’s orders, Seaview sails back to the Institute immediately. Karen Davis out." And she cut the link.

Thompson left with Harriman Nelson and went to his cabin to call Michaels. After having Sparks place the call, Nelson left and rejoined his wife, Maynard, and Morton in her cabin.

 

 

Once he was left alone in Nelson’s cabin and waiting for Walt to appear on the videophone, Norman had ample time to cool down a bit.

Holy Shit!!! What in God’s name is Walt trying to do to this mission?

He didn’t understand it. Michaels knew how vital this was...how important that cooperation among the agencies was...and how this would be viewed once it leaked out to the other agencies. Norman knew the DEA had had problems with the FBI in the past, but this.... This was unthinkable.

Walt Michaels appeared on the video monitor, more than a little perturbed at the conversation he had just had with the Nelsons. "Norm, what’s the hell’s going on there?  Can’t you control these goddamn people, for crying out loud? Who the hell does Harriman Nelson think he is, pulling the plug on this goddamn operation?!!!" he stormed.

"Walt, if you’ll just calm down...Look, man, you don’t know these people...let me tell you something, old buddy...he can and he will pull the plug. I’ve watched these people in action, Walt. They’re good...they’re damn good...and they’re loyal to him and he to them."  Thompson leaned back a bit in the chair. "Look, Walt, you and I....we go back a long way, man...I know you’ve kept some information back in the past when we’ve worked together...but, man, I’m telling you...don’t screw with these people!!!! Nelson will pull Seaview back to the Nelson Institute, Walt. Make no mistake...he’s not bluffing!!! This is his submarine...his crew...And his wife is the head of that damn team." He took a deep breath and looked into the monitor in exasperation. "Look, Walt,...you want Rodriguez as much as I do...and we both want to stop this shit from coming in...Come on, will you? Lay off, ok?  The one thing I’ve learned aboard here is...‘what Nelson wants, Nelson gets’...and if that includes pulling his sub from this mission...he will!!!"

"The son of a bitch wouldn’t dare!!!"

Thompson slowly shook his head. "Don’t bet the farm on it, Walt. He can...and he will. You don’t know this guy.  He’s deadly serious. Harriman Nelson is his own man and he doesn’t dance to the same tune as you and I.... The only thing that would keep him here would probably have to be a presidential order…and I really don’t think you want to have to go get that ‘cause it’d cause too many questions.  Walt, if Captain Davis didn’t need to know the information she’s asked for, she wouldn’t have requested it. I’ve watched this lady in action. She’s a stickler for compliance on that team. It’s funny. She’s not diving on this one...something about being medically grounded...but she’s right there with’em, analyzing their movements, directing them.... instructing them...every step of the way. I watched her today when they brought in a team of trained dolphins to help get the divers past the security perimeter they found. Walt, man, these people are pros. They know what they’re doing...Man, cut the bullshit and give them the information, okay? Or they will abort this mission!"

Michaels was totally perturbed. He didn’t like outsiders dictating what information would and would not be given out...but he had to admit that Norman was right. He had pulled the FBI’s dossier on Harriman Nelson and Karen Davis Nelson. The files were both impressive, to say the least...and if word leaked to the Bureau’s Director that Seaview had been pulled off the mission and why,...there would be all hell to pay...And if Nelson managed to confront the Director as to who was responsible, Walt knew he might as well kiss the rest of his career goodbye. Admiral Harriman Nelson might be looked upon as eccentric at times, but he was also held in very high esteem by most of the nation’s leaders, both military and non-military. Other agencies were already leery about working with the FBI because the historical view of non-cooperation that the agency had earned. This would only make it worse. No, Walt had to admit that he had to give in...this time.

"Okay, Norm. The full set of facts will be transmitted to Seaview via scrambled satellite uplink. Tell them that they’ll have them within the hour," he finally said. Seeing Thompson let out a long exhale, he then shot back, "But let me tell you something, Norm...if that asshole Nelson ever threatens to pull Seaview again..."

"Walt...man...I’m telling you...this guy will do what he says...mark my word...and then, old buddy, it’ll be our heads on the chop block...not his."

"Well, I’m telling you, Norm...keep that guy in line...or else!"

‘Yeah, right, Walt. Man, you’d better watch where you step from now on, buddy...cause the crap you stir up with your high jinks is what you’ll be stepping in. And don’t ever get the attitude that your shit don’t stink, cause it sure as hell does!!!"

Thompson turned off the videophone and sat back in the chair in quiet contemplation of the conversation he had just had. When he first dreamed up this whole operation, he figured it would be so easy...but even he had to admit that it was slowly evolving into a nightmare. He got up and headed slowly back down the corridor to Karen Nelson’s cabin. After knocking, he opened the door and simply told them to expect the rest of the information within the hour via satellite uplink. He then excused himself to allow them to finish their planning and went back to the Observation Nose.

 

 

A couple of hours later, the requested information was downloaded into Seaview’s computers. Karen and her team poured over the new schematics. Chuck had been right...they had withheld information about the bomb. The maker had a very nasty habit of rigging trip wires that were interspersed with the regular wiring, making it doubly hard to deactivate. It wouldn’t be impossible, just harder. Had they not had this new information, there was a very real possibility that it might have exploded as they tried to keep out of the entanglement of wiring. Now Chuck could go in and look directly for specific wires, avoiding the entanglement of the rest.

The device was also one of a very high nitroglycerin content. Not so high as to have to be overtly careful of actually jarring or moving it since pure nitro was highly unstable, but a specific compound of C4 explosives specially made for underwater work. The electrical current from the timing device would provide enough energy to spark and detonate the bomb with the resulting blast taking out the laboratory and everything around it for a good half mile.

As Maynard studied the schematics, Karen briefed her teams on the movements inside the perimeter. The first phase was for Chuck to enter with the dolphins and deactivate the bomb. Second phase was for the dolphins to deliver each team of divers inside the perimeter. Third phase was to carefully enter the laboratory and secure it. The fourth and final phase was then to transfer the personnel, chemicals, and the drugs to Seaview via the FS1 and the diving bell. Then, and only then, would the laboratory be destroyed.

From the photographs that had been taken the day before, Karen Nelson and Chip Morton, along with Norm Thompson, had been able to surmise the possible placement of the habitat area away from the main part of the actual laboratory. There was one main entry and three escape hatches. The teams would hit simultaneously from all four portals. The most important one was the nearest the laboratory itself. Tom had been able to peer into on of the view ports during the last dive and had quickly ascertained placement of personnel and arms within that particular section. Fortunately, what he saw was also captured on videotape, so Karen and Chip could take a closer look at what they were getting into.

During the planning of the operation, Thompson stayed somewhat in the background. At first, Karen thought that it was a bit unusual since the entire operation was primarily his idea. However, after the confrontation with Michaels over the disclosure of the bomb information, he had stepped back a bit and regulated himself to a sightseer instead of a supervisor. This, in fact, suited Karen and her team just fine. But as Karen and Chip discussed the various phases of the mission, she carefully watched his movements in the Observation Nose. Something about him and his sudden change in attitude didn’t exactly sit well with her. She wasn’t sure what it was...but there was something. This guy was too slick.... too dedicated to taking out the Rodriguez Cartel to change this quick. Something else was going on. So Karen decided to play detective for a bit. She excused herself, telling Chip that she needed to rest a bit in her cabin (after all, she was pregnant) but not before stopping by the Radio Shack to have Sparks place a call for her. Once the call had been made, she then went to wait for the results. It didn’t take long. After looking over the requested information, she left her cabin and went forward to the Control Room.

Picking up a glass off the side credenza and pouring some ice water into it, she slowly walked over to the great windows and sat down in a chair near where Thompson was standing.  "Problem, Mr. Thompson?" she softly inquired, sipping her water.

Surprised, he turned to face her. "I’m sorry...I didn’t hear..."

"I asked if you had a problem."

He walked over and sat down beside her, leaning one elbow on the table behind him. "Not really...I guess I’ve wanted this day to come for so damn long...and to almost have it pulled right from under me..." He shook his head in amazement. He still couldn’t believe how incredibly close it had been to been completely called off.

"Never, ever underestimate my husband, Mr. Thompson. And furthermore, never underestimate me. Seaview and the DWD teams would have been yanked from this mission as surely as you see me sitting here. Harriman Nelson wouldn’t have any second thoughts about it…and neither do I.”  She took another sip of water and then with slight disdain said, “You people...all you ever seem to want to do is try to cut each other’s throats...when you’re all on the same side working for the same damn goal. You’re so damned afraid the other agency is going to get the publicity, the ‘collar’ that you’ll do anything to keep it from happening...even to the point of endangering innocent lives." She wasn’t mad...nor impassioned as she talked to him. Karen Nelson simply stated facts in a plain, simplistic manner. She placed her glass on the table and looked him straight in the eye. "That kind of jealously won’t be tolerated aboard this boat, understand? Let me tell you something about my husband.  There are times he’s got a short temper fuse…and you damn well better not be in the way after it’s been lit.  And your friend’s stupidity lit it.  There’ll be full cooperation from you and all the involved agencies, or there won’t be any cooperation from this vessel and its crew.  And if you think I’m joking…just get in his way and you’ll find out I’m not kidding."

"I fully understand that, Mrs. Nelson, er, Captain Davis...and I deeply regret what happened today. I’ve known Walt for a long time...we’ve worked together on several things. I just don’t understand . . ."

"Mr. Thompson, I accept your apology, and I’m sure so does my husband...but I know the one thing that he won’t accept and that’s the interagency pettiness that’s been displayed here.”  She leaned across the table and let her words sink in.  “Look, we’re getting ready for the takedown of this lab...this has been your baby from the get go, from what I understand. You’ve been so emphatic about being involved in all aspects of the planning...up until now." She put her hands under her chin and then gazed out the view ports. "Why have you all of a sudden backed off from the one thing you were so passionate about doing?"

He was stunned by her question...he hadn’t expected it. Yes, this was his operation. He had conceived it...had fought for it.... wanted it, badly. But now...now that it was about to all go down...he felt...disjointed....let down. Maybe it was the infighting...maybe the thrill of the chase was no longer there...or maybe the smell of blood right before the actual kill didn’t excite him anymore.

"I...I don’t...know what you mean, Captain," he softly replied, not wanting to look at her.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, Mr. Thompson," she countered, turning her gaze back to him. "I know a lot more than you think I do. For instance...I know that in your second year with the DEA, you came across a shipment of contaminated heroin that had been smuggled into this country. Some of it had been stolen from the ‘distributor’ and people started to die because of it. One of those people was your brother, Ben, Mr. Thompson. He’d gotten hooked on heroin while he was in college at the University of Miami. You, in turn, traced that shipment of heroin back to the supplier and ultimately to its original source, one Miguel Juan Rodriguez, of Bogota, Colombia...And I take it that this is the same Miguel Rodriguez that is the head of the Rodriguez Cartel that runs this lab we’re about to take out. How am I doing so far?"

"Where the hell did you . . .?"

"I have my own intelligence sources, Thompson...and I happen to have extremely high level security clearance, particularly because of what I do. Now, am I right, or am I right?

He got up and leaned up against one of the windows. Turning around to face her, he spoke softly, "Ben was a naive, stupid kid who was sucked into doing drugs because he wanted to impress this little twit of a roommate of his. Only thing was, the ‘twit’ was a drug dealer. That’s how he suckered a lot of the kids in...no one would take him seriously until he was seen producing the goods. One night...this idiot gives Ben some new ‘breed’ of heroin.... ‘Stronger, faster acting...last longer’ was the line, one of his friends said...anyway, Ben agreed and it took about 10 minutes until he died. 10 lousy, stinking minutes.... One of the other guys there said Ben shook and wallowed around on the ground like a wounded animal begging to be put out of his misery before he finally died." Thompson’s eyes glistened from the tears that were beginning to form. "I hadn’t been with the DEA that long...as you said...my second year. Anyway, we got a tip about bad stuff hitting the streets in the Miami area...I overheard one of the local undercover cops making a couple of comments about some of the UM kids that had gotten hold of it. So, just on a whim...I called up Ben’s room...a campus cop answered the phone...I identified myself and he asked me to come over, that they needed to talk to me, that Ben....that Ben.... .was in the hospital...only he never made it to the hospital alive...he was DOA when they got there."

Karen rose from her chair and stood beside him, putting her hand on his arm to comfort him. "I’m so very sorry...I didn’t mean to bring back such painful memories.’

"You don’t have to be sorry, Captain. You need to be thankful...thankful that you have a beautiful, intelligent, living daughter...thankful and hopeful that she’s never been involved in drugs. Thankful that people like me...like Walt...like a lot of us...want to get this shit off the streets anyway we possibly can," he remarked with a bit of venom and hate in his voice. "And I swear before God Almighty that I will bring Miguel Rodriguez down if it takes until my very last breath I ever draw! That son of a bitch, and those like him, killed my little brother.  I’d go to the ends of the earth to get every last one of them."

Karen stood in silence listening to true pain and true hate. He had suffered so very much...had lost so very much...someone so very dear to him. Even with what she herself had gone through, there was nothing she could say that would provide him with any comfort. Ultimately, the hate would consume him...it would make him vulnerable to the very ones he so hated...and in the end...it might very well get him killed. Her source was right...the lab was but one step in a personal vendetta against Miguel Juan Rodriguez. Not that he didn’t deserve to be shut down...imprisoned....maybe even killed. But personal vendettas had a very nasty habit of coming back to bite the person in the ass. Karen just didn’t want anyone she knew or loved in the way when it finally did come back to haunt Norman Thompson.

 

 

The next morning, at approximately 0900 hours, Seaview changed positions to within roughly three miles from the underwater lab. Once the mini-subs were launched, they would slowly cruise to within less than a mile from the lab. Normally, Seaview only carried two mini-subs...enough room for four divers. However, this operation necessitated the use of eight of them, so the Missile Room had become cramped with the decompression chamber for the divers and all the mini-subs. Not one more piece of equipment could be crammed into that room.

Chief Petty Officer Francis Sharkey, the Chief of the Boat, looked over all the equipment that had been jammed into this one room. Shaking his head in amazement, he suddenly noticed that Admiral Nelson stood just to right of him, looking it all over as well.

"Ya know, sir...I never thought we’d get all this in here. Makes it kind of tight..."

"I know, Chief. I know exactly what you mean," Nelson answered and turned at the sound of a voice coming through the hatchway. It was Karen with Chip Morton.

She smiled when she saw him standing there. There were times, even now, that she couldn’t believe that she was married to Harriman Nelson...especially when they were aboard Seaview. Walking over to him and Sharkey, she addressed the Chief first.  "Chief, I need you to get all the team’s gear out ASAP. Chuck Maynard will also need gear...and he’ll have some special equipment going with him as well.

"Yes, ma’am. Anything else?...I’ll have your gear in your dressing area shortly."

"Don’t bother, Chief...I’m grounded. Doctor’s orders."

Sharkey’s eyebrow arched upward a bit...he remembered the incident in the missile room nearly two years ago when she had backed out of a dive, but when he looked at Harriman Nelson, he saw no reaction to her statement. She noted his response, but said nothing. Karen knew that Francis Sharkey was the ‘mother hen’ of the whole senior staff...that he had made it his personal mission to watch over each of the senior officers...and that included her as well. She wanted to take the Chief aside and let him in on the secret, but knowing his gregarious personality, she didn’t dare. He’d be beside himself and wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for long.

"Very well, ma’am...but who’s going to lead Team One outside?"

"Mike will, Sharkey...and Chuck will round it out as the fourth member. Team One will go down first because Chuck has to deactivate that bomb before the operation can commence. The teams will be spaced apart by ten minutes so as to not attract attention. Once they’re all in place, hopefully Chuck will have the bomb defused, and we can get started. I want a test on all the mini-cams, computers, and audio recorders in the suits. I also want each tank fully charged till it can’t take any more. Also make sure internal and external communications are all in working order. This is one time we simply can’t afford to lose contact with anyone at anytime. Understood?"

"Yes, ma’am!" he stated and left the couple standing there with Morton. Chip looked at the two and decided it was best that he himself also saw to the deployment of the equipment.

Karen stood beside Harriman, looking over the crowded Missile Room. Eight mini-subs sat, stacked tightly together, waiting to be launched into the depths of the sea. The red vertical cylindrical shapes of the missile silos stood silent watch over their companions.  "Are you ready?" he asked her in hushed voice, almost reverent of the machines which lay before him.

She glanced over at him, and with a wary faint smile, answered, "Yes, we’re ready. God, I wish I was going with them!"

"I know you do...but you can’t...and you know it."

They could hear Sharkey barking orders to the team’s support crew. Both Harriman and Karen smiled upon listening to him hammering away.  Karen shot a grin over at Harry and whispered, "Maybe we can get him to baby-sit when Caitlin’s not available"

Harriman let out a rather loud laugh and then stifled the rest. His wife always managed to make him smile, no matter what the seriousness of the situation. "Oh, I can just see it now...no...I don’t think I can take that kind of a vision in my brain right now....it’s too funny for words."

She then grinned and hooked her arm in his. "Let’s go, Dad, I’ve got work to do before they head out."

"Oh, I meant to ask you...what was your call from Michael Briggs about?"

She at first shot him a look that was ‘how the hell did you know?’...but then she didn’t really keep secrets from him...and her prior relationship to Michael Briggs was no secret between them.  "I called Michael to get some information for me...on Norman Thompson."

Harry stopped in mid-stride and looked at her. "Why?"

"Let’s go to your cabin and I’ll explain...okay? Actually...he simply confirmed something I suspected."

They walked to his cabin with her explaining her suspicions about Thompson. Once inside, she told him about what Michael had found out about Norman Thompson and why he had a personal vendetta against Miguel Rodriguez. Harriman listened to her intently...digesting all the information. He wasn’t exactly happy about being used this way...but the ultimate goal, the shut down and destruction of that laboratory was a worthy cause. That was one point he couldn’t disagree on. He just didn’t like the idea of this being a personal cause of Thompson’s and that he and Seaview were being used to further it...to justify it....

"Harry, I don’t like it either," she explained after he expressed his anger. "But you did commit us...and since we’ve gotten full cooperation now...I really can’t see any reason not to go through with it, now can you?"

"No, but damn it, I just don’t like being used..."  There was no doubt that he was thoroughly pissed off.  The very fact that Thompson seemed to be using this entire operation as an end to justify the means didn’t set well.

"And I don’t either...but, look at it this way...we would be doing some good at least.”

“That doesn’t make it right, regardless.  If I had known…”

“I know,” she sighed.  “That’s why I called Michael.  There was just something that didn’t seem right about his reactions.  He’s been so…so…gung ho about this whole thing and all of a sudden, he develops this really laid back attitude.  There was just something screwy about it.  So, I decided to do a little checking on my own.”

“The one thing I won’t tolerate here is this stupid interagency passion for politics.  Too much is at stake here.”

 “I know…believe me, I know.  Look, Harry, I had a long talk with Thompson after I confronted him. I saw the reaction he had, talking about his little brother...and I heard the indignation he had in his voice when I dared question him about it. It was ‘hurt’ indignation, Harry...the kind I would probably would have had if someone questioned me if Caitlin had been through it. You know...afterward, I thought to myself that I am lucky...that Caitlin never got involved in all of that. And hopefully, our baby won’t either. Norm Thompson and his family weren’t so lucky. So...yes...I guess I do sympathize a bit with him. But I don’t condone personal vendettas, either."

She came over and sat on the edge of his desk next to his chair. Reaching for his hand, she placed it on her abdomen...and then looked at him. "I guess in a way, Harry, this is for this little one...and all the others just like him. Good, bad, or indifferent.... We’ve got to do this." She then bent over and kissed him passionately.

As he broke away, he looked up into her eyes.  “Ok…then let’s get this over with.  The sooner the better.”  It just galled him to know that his crew and boat was being used in another’s quest for revenge.

 

 

At 1200 hours, Karen Nelson met with her team as they suited up for the beginning of the first phase. Team One was almost ready for departure when Norm Thompson came into the Missile Room. He had avoided talking to Karen since the night before. Now that she knew his secret, he had been afraid that she would call off the dive...but he was surprised, and pleased, to see the DWD teams getting ready when he got there. Karen looked up, saw him, and motioned him to join her in the briefing.

"Okay, guys...listen up. Mr. Thompson here is going to tell you what you’re going to be looking at once you get into the laboratory itself...Basically, what you need to look out for and what you need to make damn sure doesn’t get destroyed."

Thompson looked over the group of men as they were suiting up, watching them carefully put on the specially designed diving suits. Clearing his throat, he addressed them. "I know that you guys are used to other things besides busting a drug laboratory...but this IS important. The main thing is to secure any of the drugs that have already been made and packaged. You have been already briefed as to what the packaging looks like, and what the various chemicals involved are. It’s imperative that we confiscate as much of this stuff as possible...don’t give them so much as one iota of a chance to destroy anything...If you can do that...it will make my job that much easier."

Karen stepped forward and looked slowly at each one of her team...then nodded to Sharkey to bring over the weapons locker.

"Each one of you will be issued a weapon and extra ammunition. In addition, there will also be tranquilizer guns issued as well. Use the tranqs first...and the firearms last, only as last resort. These people are not expecting a firefight. They figure since they’re 750 feet down on the ocean bottom...well, let’s just put it this way...they’re really going to be surprised. But at the same time...we also don’t want to overlook the possibility that they DO have firearms aboard." She watched as Chief Sharkey handed each member of the team his weapons and the special waterproof containers for them. "Guys...I don’t have to tell you to be careful down there. This is completely different than anything we’ve done since this team was created several years ago. Watch your backs...don’t take anything for granted. Doing that can get you killed. Ok, I want absolute minimal, if not any, communication going in. Audio and video will remain on the entire length of the mission."

Kowalski was strapping the firearm to his waist utility pack when he looked up and asked, "Captain, how are we planning on transporting the drugs back here?"

"Once the complex is secured, the diving bell and the FS-1 will be pressed into service to transport both the drugs and the captured personnel back to Seaview. Once aboard, the lab personnel will be taken to the brig and placed there under guard for the trip back home. The drugs will be secured in an area here on board, and will also be under guard. Are there any more questions?" she explained.

One of the other team members piped up with "Captain, how come you’re not going out?"

Chip Morton shot her a look and a slight smile, almost questioning what she was going to say. She really hadn’t said anything to the team...almost preferring not to discuss it. Now, she had to say something... "Guys, I’ve been beached. The good doctor has medically grounded me for about at least six months, maybe more."

There were some exclamations of ‘what’s wrong’ to ‘are you ok’ to ‘you gonna be all right?’ She smiled inwardly, thinking If they only knew the real reason..."Guys, thank you very much for your concern, but...I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s nothing that time won’t take care of completely." Looking over at Chip, she knew she had to keep a straight face and serious demeanor or the team would know something was afoot. She felt some self-satisfaction that her team was concerned about her well being. At the same time, she had to maintain her cool composure. Looking at each one of her team, she calmly remarked, "Now...let’s do it to it."

 

 

The first two mini-subs were launched into the stillness of the ocean depths. Seaview was holding trim at 650 feet, with roughly 100 feet from keel to bottom, nearly a mile away from the undersea laboratory. It would take the two little subs about 20 minutes to cover the distance, therefore launching would take place every 5 minutes. The first two, comprised of Team One, carried Tom, Mike, Chuck Maynard, and Fred Williams. Three of Lucius Emery’s star pupils, his ‘children’, swam happily beside, around, over and under the two little submarines as they made their way toward the electronic perimeter fence. By the time that they made it to the rendezvous point, about 500 feet from the ‘fence’, and started to unload the specialized equipment, Team Two would be joining them.

Shortly all four teams were assembled at a point behind a small mound of boulders just beyond the fence. The dolphins were already swimming merrily back and forth across the perimeter, heading occasionally back up to the surface for air, then shooting back down again to the waiting divers. Star was signaled to come to Chuck and after catching hold of the dolphin’s dorsal fin, he was carried safely through the electronic eyes and deposited in front of the bomb. Depositing his gear, he started to work on deactivating the device. As before, he unscrewed the faceplate and let it fall to the ocean floor. Then working from hours of memory of pouring over the schematics of the bomb, he took wire cutters and carefully searched out the color-coded detonation wires. One fluid motion of the cutters severed the wire. Then he began to look for the backup system. The FBI file on the maker indicated that the bomb maker always had a backup in case the primary system failed for some reason. Searching through the entangled bunches of wires, he came upon the very one he was looking for.

He pulled the group of wires toward him and slowly separated them, isolating the backup from the rest. Once done, this wire was also severed. Chuck turned around and nodded to his companions just beyond the fence that the deactivation was complete. At that point, the dolphins started to bring in the team, three at a time, until the entire team was now inside the perimeter. As they made they way toward the pods, each team went to their assigned portal of entry and waited for the signal from Karen Davis.

Back aboard Seaview, the senior staff, along with Norman Thompson, watched the progression of the team to the underside of the laboratory. Since Thompson was the expert in the field, he had been invited by Karen to help direct the raid itself. With the aid of the mini-cams in each diver’s helmet, they could see exactly what each diver saw, precisely at the time he saw it. Because of the complexity of this particular mission and the fact that all four teams would be together, a large video monitoring system had been quickly devised and set up with sixteen small individual monitors, The nerve center of this monitoring system was in the Observation Nose. Karen, with Thompson’s help, sat before the wall of screens, monitoring, listening and directing the group as they began to take their positions for the commencement of the operation.

Harriman Nelson stood directly behind his wife’s chair, his eyes glued to the wall of changing images. Lee Crane had taken up position behind Thompson and was mesmerized by the scenes taking place before him. Both Karen and Thompson, audio headsets on, were constantly scanning the monitors for any possible out of the ordinary movements.

When all four teams were in place and Karen, along with Thompson, was satisfied that everything was ready, the signal was given for the raid to begin.

 

 

Inside the underwater laboratory, the ten men assigned there went about their daily routine, completely unaware of the events about to unfold. Four of the men were in the actual laboratory area of the pod, completely engrossed in the chemical manufacturing of cocaine. Three more were in the galley area, and the last three were in the living quarters area. None of them had any inkling of what was about to unfold.

Team One slowly swam toward the main escape hatch under the main pod. Tom Johnson let himself float up the opening and slowly broke the surface so as not to attract attention. Quickly but quietly shedding his diving helmet, he silently pulled himself over the ledge and signaled the other team members to follow. He quickly unsheathed his weapon from its waterproof holster and took position on one side of the hatchway. As the other three members of the team entered the area, they in turn shed their helmets and took weapons in hand as well. Tom silently signaled the other teams to begin their infiltration as well. If no resistance was encountered upon entry, the takedown would commence in approximately one minute after all teams were in places. As each team entered the pods and got into position, their leaders signaled Seaview that everything was okay and waited for the signal to go. When Karen and Thompson were both satisfied, the word was given.

Team One quickly entered the main laboratory area. The personnel there were momentarily stunned as Johnson and his team quietly secured the area. Morton and Team Two had positioned themselves near the living quarters and immediately brought them under control. Team Three under Kowalski’s command and Team Four under Bob O’Brian took care of the crew in the galley and securing the rest of the laboratory. Chip Morton then proceeded to take a headcount of all the personnel, and when he was satisfied that all were accounted for, the teams were told to bring their prisoners to the living quarters area where they could all effectively be held under guard. All in all, only one shot had been fired, and that had been by one of the laboratory personnel before Kowalski’s team could seize all weapons from the galley area.

Within minutes, word was radioed back to Seaview that the lab had been secured. There had been minimal resistance because, quite frankly, the personnel there didn't expect anyone to invade the lab. The diving bell was dispatched along with the FS-1 for transport of the laboratory personnel back to Seaview after which the team would then begin the task of removing the drugs for safekeeping and the chemicals for storage and disposal.

On board Seaview, Karen kept in constant radio contact with her teams. Since they were no longer in the water, the helmet video cams were of no use, so other arrangements had to be made. Once the personnel were secured, one member of each team would take a portable mini-cam and record the inside of their individually secured areas. After the personnel were transferred to the diving bell and FS-1, only one mini-cam would be needed. Karen was taking no chances that any thing her team did at this point could be questioned. She was well aware of the monetary value of the drugs involved and wanted no questions raised as to their reliability and honesty.

Chip Morton radioed her that all personnel was en route back to Seaview and to have the Master-at-Arms ready for their arrival. Since the Brig was not equipped to hold ten people for an extended length of time, other arrangements had to be made. A makeshift brig had been constructed in the Missile Room to handle part of the prisoners while the other part would be held in the main brig. As the laboratory personnel were brought aboard, one of the men locked eyes with Harriman Nelson as he stood overseeing the operation. The man said something in Spanish that Nelson didn't understand. As he was led into the holding cell, again he shouted something at Nelson. Harry simply sluffed it off and turned his back on the cell to talk to Lee Crane who had just entered the Missile Room.

"Looks like you have a fan, Admiral," Crane said warily.

Nelson cocked his head slightly to one side and questioned, "Oh? Why do you say that?"

Lee motioned over at the man in the cell. "He just said that you and your family would live to regret this day...that Miguel would make sure of it."

Nelson refused to look back at the man...to do so would be to admit his fear of what he had just said. "Really?...Well, looks like he doesn't know the Nelson family very well, now does he?" he replied with a slight grin. In actuality, Harriman was well aware of the Colombian penchant for revenge against the offending person's family as a way of making their point. His immediate thoughts were of Karen, of their unborn child, and for their safety. No one...no one would harm her or the baby...not as long as he had anything to do or say about it. "I think I'd better see how the loading of the chemicals is coming along. I want to make doubly sure that everything is in order and they're properly stored."

"Yes, sir. I'll have a guard posted at the lab door after the cocaine is brought aboard. Oh, and what about the other chemicals?  The ones used in the processing? Will they go in the lab as well?"

Nelson kept eyeing the ‘brig' and the men under guard there. His mind kept going back to the ‘threat' the man had just made...maybe he ought to make sure that Karen and Caitlin had protection once they were back at the Institute. He'd make a point of talking to Thompson later this evening when things calmed down a bit and see what he thought. As much as he didn't like him, Nelson had to admit that Norman Thompson did know his stuff and this was his area of expertise...

"Admiral? The chemicals...will they also go in the lab?" Crane was again asking him.

"Huh?...Oh, sorry, Lee...yes...store them in the lab. I'd better get up to the Nose and see what's going on," Nelson said almost off-handedly. Clearly he was preoccupied with what the man had said. Normally he would have simply dismissed the man and his ranting...but now, with Karen pregnant, it wasn't so easy to ignore.

"Yes, sir. I'll make sure they're secured there."

Nelson turned and walked out of the Missile Room and headed to the Observation Nose. As he walked through the Control Room, he spied Karen, Norman Thompson, and Lucius Emery still up in the Nose. Emery had been there supervising the use of his ‘children', the dolphins, during their part of the operation. Karen and Thompson were still seated in front of the monitors, supervising and directing the final stages of the operation. Norman had taken command of this part of the operation, overseeing the securing of the drugs and the chemicals. As Harry stood behind Karen's seat, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder. She quietly took her hand and touched his...looking up at him, she smiled slightly and then went back to her work. Thompson could see the simple gesture out of the corner of his eye and was in awe of the couple.  This relatively simple act would have gone unnoticed by most, yet spoke volumes about them.

 

 

Several hours later, the complete inventory of all the drugs that had been manufactured in the laboratory, as well as those chemicals used in the process, had been secured in the laboratory under armed guard. Harriman Nelson, Norman Thompson, Lee Crane, and Karen Nelson stood in the middle of the Lab and gazed at the over 3000 kilograms of high-grade cocaine that sat piled in the corner of the room. At the other end of the room were the cartons of chemicals necessary in the manufacturing of the drugs.

"Amazing...simply amazing," Nelson softly remarked, his expression one of wonderment.

Norman Thompson stood silently, his expression never revealing what he was truly thinking. "No, Admiral...the really amazing thing is that this is only a very small tip of the iceberg…a small drop in the bucket to what’s really out there. That’s the really amazing thing," he slowly replied, his voice edged with a thinly disguised hatred.

"Well, at least we’ll put a dent in someone’s pocketbook," Lee remarked as he picked up one of the ‘bricks’ or packages of cocaine.

"Yeah...well...a temporary one at least," was the quiet pointed reply from Thompson.

Karen Nelson turned to face him. "What about the lab? What do you want done with it? Blow it up? Chuck and the guys are ready to plant explosives whenever you give the word."

Thompson walked over to the piled up plastic bundles of cocaine. Squatting down in front of it, he simply looked at it...not saying a word to the other three people in the room. I swear, Ben...I’ll get the sonofabitch that killed you. I swear it! This is just the beginning...I’ll hit that bastard hard every time I can and whenever I can. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you then, little bro...but I swear to you...somebody will pay for what they did to you!

The other three stood watching him as he knelt in front of the drug pile. In a few moments, Thompson stood up and turned around to face them. Looking Karen dead straight in the eyes, he told her, "Take it out...blow it to smithereens...I don’t give a damn!!"

Karen knew what he was doing...he wanted to send a message...a message that said ‘I’ll find you no matter where you go.’ The only problem with that was that Miguel Rodriguez was not known to be the most stable person in the world. She walked over to the microphone cradle that hung on the wall near the door and palmed it. Clicking it to open the intercom, she then spoke, "Mr. Morton, this is Captain Davis."

"Morton, aye."

"Chip, prepare the teams for demolition duty. We’re going to destroy the lab."

"Yes, ma’am."

Lee Crane glanced over at her. "Why not just hit it with a torpedo? It’d blow it sky high."

"That’s exactly why we’re doing it with specifically placed charges. This way we attract less attention if they managed to get any type of SOS off. A massive explosion would only confirm it," she explained. Turning to Thompson, she went on, "The less attention, the more he’ll come looking." She knew what he was doing, but felt this was a better route to take.

"We draw him out...make him make a move. Mrs. Nelson...I’ve got to hand it to you...that’s not bad...not bad at all," he replied as he pondered her angle. He was grateful that she hadn’t spilled the beans about his real intentions...He had come to really admire and respect the woman standing in front of him.

Harriman Nelson didn’t exactly like what he was hearing. He already had heard the ranting of one of the prisoners in the Missile Room...and he had already been briefed that the Colombian Cartels’ use of revenge tactics included the family of the offending person. Looking at Thompson and Karen, he took his ‘defensive’ posture.

"Now, just a minute here. First off, Mr. Thompson, I’m quite well aware of the Cartel’s penchant of family revenge tactics. If you intend to try to draw out this Rodriguez, you’re not going to put my wife and my step-daughter in danger," he stated quite plainly. "And second, why destroy it at all? Would it not be more prudent to simply leave it be? The very fact that there’d be no answer when the Lab is contacted would be more than enough to draw this man out, wouldn’t it?" He crossed his arms, his lips thinned a bit. He had too much at stake now to put Karen, or Caitlin for that matter, in harm’s way. As much as he hated to have to do it, this was one time that he had to consider his own personal stake in this operation...and it was far greater than he’d ever have admitted. If that cartel leader decided to come after the Institute and its ‘family’, Karen and their unborn child would be prime targets. That was one price he wasn’t prepared to pay.

Karen listened to her husband voice his objections. She knew in her heart why he was stating them...her and the baby. For the first time since she had known him, she felt part of his objections were being voiced out of personal reasons. She couldn’t really blame him...letting her mind wander away from here for a few moments, she smiled to herself as she thought of the child now growing inside her...their child...

"Karen?..."

Looking over toward the voice speaking her name, she stared blankly into the face of her husband.

"Karen?...Did you hear me?"

"Huh?...I’m sorry...My mind was elsewhere. What did you say?" she replied, managing a slight smile at Harriman.

Harry sensed that she was thinking along the same lines...that he had to keep her and their child safe from Rodriguez. He stepped in front of her, arms still crossed in their familiar defensive ‘stance’ and repeated his comment.  "I said that I’m overruling the complete destruction of the lab. We’ll completely disable it...make it so that it’s completely uninhabitable...but not blow it up. Yet, that is. I don’t want those people coming after us."

"Harry, the only way to get rid of that lab is to completely destroy it...and that means blowing it up," she countered.

"Normally, I would agree with that...but these are not normal circumstances. Mr. Thompson here knows by far better than I do what Mr. Rodriguez is capable of. I simply don’t want..."

She looked directly into those steel blue eyes of his...she knew what he was trying to tell her. Strangely enough, she was thinking along the same lines but felt differently about the lab’s destruction. This difference of opinion was now leading to a sticky situation. She had disagreed with him before regarding actions performed by the team, but their arguments had always managed to be in private, between the two of them, never in front of others. Both of them preferred it that way.

"I think if we do it right...strategically place the explosives so that the ensuing explosions are implosions, we can minimize the disruption," she explained. "Chuck can plan to place the plastics accordingly. Harry, I really think we can pull this off so that he won’t know until after these people are in jail." Karen knew why her husband was concerned, but she was also trying to let him know that the team could pull this off. Besides, Rodriguez was going to find out sooner or later anyway. She just wanted to give them more time to get back to the confines and safety of the Institute before he found out that his precious laboratory had been completely destroyed and his personnel and drugs seized.

"Karen..." he started cautiously, trying to warn her to be wary of an ensuing disagreement. Besides, he did wear the four stars on his collar, this was his boat, and he had the last word in the matter concerning the operation.

Catching the tone of his voice, she glared at him...this was not the place for an argument. Not in front of Thompson and Lee Crane. Her eyes locked with his and she motioned for him to follow her to the other side of the lab, leaving the two other men standing near the stacked pile of drugs.

"Harry," she started, as she lowered her voice to just above a whisper, "Chuck can plant the explosives so that it implodes, not explodes...there’ll be less of a shockwave and it will still be destroyed."

"Look, I know what you’re trying to do...and I know what he wants," he replied, looking over at Thompson. "Karen, he’s not only here to put this lab out of business, but he’s hell bent on revenge. You know that. I don’t want you or our baby endangered because of him."

She slipped her hand gently into his and looked into his eyes. "I know that’s part of it...the revenge, I mean...I’m quite well aware of that. But Harry, that lab’s got to be destroyed. If it’s not...Rodriguez will simply start it up again after this all blows over. No, the lab’s got to go...and you know I’m right."

Harriman Nelson sometimes hated it when his wife was right about these things. Looking at her, knowing that she was carrying his child, knowing that these drug lords had a very nasty habit of wanting revenge, he was hesitant...but he had to admit to himself that she was right. His eyes narrowed a bit and as he glanced back to the stacks of packages containing the cocaine, he then relented.  "All right...take it out. But it has to be an implosion, not an explosion."

Karen exhaled a long breath of relief. She smiled slightly, tightened her grip on his fingers just a bit and then whispered, "You got it."  She then walked over to the wall mike, palmed it, and called out, "Mr. Morton?’

"Morton, aye."

"Chip, come to my cabin and bring Chuck Maynard and the team leaders with you. 10 minutes."

"Yes, ma’am."

Placing the mike back on the wall, she then walked back over to Crane and Thompson. Looking at the drugs and then at the two men, she first addressed Crane.  "We’re going in to plant explosives to implode the lab. I’m going to have Matt and Chuck work out the details as to placement of the plastics and the timing so that you can get Seaview back to a safe distance. Since it’ll be an implosion, the shockwaves won’t be near as bad. Therefore, we can actually be closer to observe and record it." She then looked over at Thompson. "How long to you think it will take for Rodriguez to find out that the lab’s gone?"

"Oh, I dare say he’ll know as soon as we dock. They’ve always managed to stay one step ahead of us for a long time...it won’t take them long."

"Is it possible that they have some sort of time frame on communicating with the lab? Let’s say, every hour...two hours...whatever...and if they don’t hear from them, they’ll send someone to investigate."

"It’s possible, certainly. However, we’ve never detected any type of communications signal like that on a regular pattern. That’s not to say it’s not within the realm of feasibility. Rodriguez is smart...Damn smart...he didn’t get to where he is by running a shoddy show. No, there’d probably be some type of regular communications," he mused.

She thought over his answer and then turned to Harry. "You might want to interrogate the prisoners. They’ll be the ones to tell you If there were prearranged communications between the lab and his cartel. That is, if you can get it out of them. When I send the teams over, I’m going to have them check the communications pod for any indication...any possible documentation of any. When this thing blows...I want to make sure that it’s in between their signals so that we’ve got a good head start for home."  He nodded in agreement, conceding to her point of view, "Let’s do it then. Lee..."

"Right on it," he agreed as he turned to head out the door, leaving Harriman, Karen, and Thompson standing alone in the lab.

"Admiral, I want to be in on the interrogations if you don’t mind. I’ve probably got more experience doing it than all of your crew combined," Norman asked, slightly leaning back against one of the lab benches.

"Actually, I’m sure that Captain Crane would be glad to have your help and expertise. Permission granted."

"Thanks, Admiral," he replied, heading out the door without looking back.  Now there were just the two left in the lab.

Karen leaned over one of the benches, her chin in one of her hands, the elbow propping her up. The two looked at each other for a few moments...neither spoke. Finally, Karen decided to break the ice.  "Harry, I’m right about the lab. It’s got to be destroyed...or he’ll start it back up as soon as the personnel gets bailed out."

"Yeah, but we now know where it is...it can be raided ever so often to throw him off."

"But why take that chance? Harry, come on, I’ve never known you to back off like this. Is this change of attitude because I’m pregnant and it’s the Colombians we’re dealing with?"

He backed up a bit and pulled over one of the lab stools. His eyes strayed ever so often to the mound of cocaine packages in the corner of the lab.

"Karen, the information I’ve been reading recently about the Colombian cartels is frightening. They have a reputation for taking revenge on the family members of those that offend them. I knew this when I went ahead and agreed to this operation. What I didn’t bank on was this baby...Look, I know that they could just as easily come after me, you, Caitlin, Lee and his son, Chip, Matty, and little Alex...I accept that...but now..."

"Now, it’s our baby, right? Harriman Nelson...I’ve never known you to back down from a fight," she replied, straightening up and planting her hands on her hips. "Hell, they might just come after the boat. But we can’t let that stop what needs to be done. You know that."

He sat there looking at her, wondering how he managed to get so lucky in this part of his life. She was so...so...independent...and so damned aggravating sometimes. Maybe that’s what had attracted him about her five years ago at Miramar.  "Karen, I just want to make sure you, the baby, Caitlin...all of you...are safe and sound. I’m not backing down here...I’m just being...cautious.

She walked over to where he sat on the stool. Positioning herself half way on his lap, she put both arms around his neck and kissed him. As she did, she slowly took one hand of hers and picked up his, then placed it on her stomach. He cradled her as she sat there on his lap, silently offering a prayer that everything would turn out all right.

 

 

Down in the Missile Room, Crane, Thompson, and the Master-at-Arms started to interrogate the prisoners, one at a time. This was going to take some time...the three knew that. Lee decided that the process might just go a little faster if some help was brought in, so he placed a call over the intercom for Chief Francis Sharkey. The Chief of the Boat had a well-earned reputation for being a hard ass when absolutely necessary. Add to the fact that Seaview was in international waters and it made for an interesting combination. Thompson had instructed Crane and Sharkey on the ‘correct’ procedure of police interrogation, but decided to suspend certain ‘formalities’ reserved for the American justice system. When one of the prisoners yelled something about wanting an attorney...Thompson pointedly told him that the Miranda warnings didn’t apply here...it was in international waters that there were located right now. And if they really wanted a lawyer, they’d have to wait until they got back to land. So meanwhile, the man just might as well shut up his complaining and tell them what they wanted to know.

One by one, the prisoners were interrogated. One by one, the Captain of the Seaview and the DEA agent, along with the COB and the guards, took the prisoners aside and put them through a grueling questioning. Sharkey did more than his share of a bit of roughing up of a couple of the prisoners...one or two of them got a bit ‘mouthy’ with the four as they attempted to obtain the necessary information though not a scratch was placed on any of the imprisoned men. Thompson had instructed them in just how far they could go, and even then they were pushing the limit.

When they finally reached the tenth man, all of them were exhausted. Crane disliked these kinds of tactics but reasoned that they were necessary in this incident. Tempers were getting short and there was a tension growing between Lee and Norman Thompson. The two men grated on each other for some reason and it showed. In fact, it was unknowingly left up to Sharkey to run interference between the two.

During the time of the prisoners’ questioning, the DWD teams were being readied for their part n the destruction of the lab facility. Karen met with Tom Johnson, Morton, Kowalski, O’Brian, Chuck Maynard and Matt Lynch in her cabin to discuss the details of the demolition.

The six men crowded around her desk, which now had a detailed schematic drawing of the facilities unrolled on it. Maynard had marked in red the positions where the plastic nitro explosives would be placed. It was imperative that anything they did create only a minimal amount of shock wave. It was also his job to obtain the intended results of that said implosion, so he had spend most of the day going over the plan with Matt Lynch and Karen prior to this meeting.

After Chuck had explained in detail how the explosives would work and had given each team leader their assignment, Karen looked around at the men sitting before her. She fully realized what they were about to do and the possible outside ramifications of it. Clearing her throat, she caught their undivided attention.

"Guys, I want to warn you...once we blow this lab, Seaview may very well become a target for revenge. Miguel Rodriguez, this particular cartel’s leader, has never been known to be ‘stable’. The Colombians have a very nasty habit of taking revenge out on family members. Now it’s my understanding that Rodriguez is not looked upon favorably by the other cartel leaders because he’s ‘erratic.’ If there’s any of you that have an objection here, I want to know about it now. Not that it’s going to make that much of a difference where this wacko’s concerned, but I do want you to know. We’ve been through a lot in the last four years...I just wanted to be honest and up-front with you."

Each of the men looked at the other, and Morton spoke up as sort of the unofficial spokesman for the group.  "Captain, we appreciate the concern, but we can’t let this stop us."

Karen smiled to herself...Now that’s what I knew I’d hear.  "Okay, guys, let’s do it to it."

The six got up to leave, but Chip Morton stayed behind after the others left. Looking over at her, he was reminded of the way Matty was during her pregnancy with Alex.  "You feeling okay?" he inquired, visibly concerned about her.

She leaned back in her chair and looked back at the Seaview’s executive officer and her second-in-command on the DWD team. Karen knew he was concerned about her; after all, he had just gone through the same events with Matty.

"Yeah, a little more tired now...but then again, you’ve been through this recently," she replied, grinning. "You know, Chip, I never in my life thought this would happen at this stage of my life. I must be crazy...or either the raging hormonal imbalance has take over my body. Typical first trimester symptoms."

"You having morning sickness?"

"Not really...actually I’ve had a bit but it hasn’t been extreme. I was never sick with Caitlin...but then again, that was 22 years ago."

Chip laughed and then said, "Matty didn’t have much either. Actually, after that incident with the Sergeant, things were a piece of cake." He then got up to leave so that she could get some rest. Stopping at the door, he turned around and remarked, "You know, you’ve made him totally ecstatic, don’t you? I haven’t seen him this happy since you two got married."

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