Turning the Tide

Admiral Nelson paced in the nose, watching his crew's expert handling of the boat. He was always a bear, this early in the morning; but this morning was different. This morning, only a few hours ago, in the darkness just before dawn, they had set Commander Lee Crane ashore in Pakistan on a mission for ONI. The man so expertly guiding Seaview through these dangerous waters, heading out to sea to rendezvous with USS Taylor, was therefore not her captain. It wasn't that Nelson didn't have confidence in Chip Morton. Indeed, he had so much confidence in the young man that he was already deep into the design of a boat that was destined for the XO. But the absence of Seaview's captain nagged at him like an abscessed tooth. He didn't like that ONI purloined his captain now and then for these missions into enemy territory. All right, yes, he was undoubtedly the best they had. But he wasn't really theirs. He was Nelson's now, and Nelson hated with a passion anything that put his men at risk…

"We've reached international waters, sir." Chip moved from the chart table to the watch platform, ahead of the periscopes, looking out over the busy control room. He commanded Seaview as if he were born to it, and the men respected him. Things would go smoothly here while Lee was gone; Nelson had no fear of that. But he wanted this mission over and Lee back safely. Instead, he was going to have to entertain an old acquaintance, and pretend like Lee had stayed behind in Santa Barbara with the flu. Admiral Roman Lura had picked the worst time to descend on Nelson for a visit that had more of a mandatory flavor than anything.

I want to see this boat I've heard so much about... I have some time coming to me... Let's rendezvous somewhere, and I'll finish the cruise with you.

Roman had never had any idea at all of timing. Or of getting anything but his own way. John, Nelson remembered, had despised the man. Nelson had learned over the years to get along with him, but they had never been close. He almost smiled, remembering how John had cursed under his breath whenever Roman had appeared – as he frequently did at inopportune moments like this one – with his list of demands…

"I don't like him, Harry. I don't trust him."

Nelson watched his old friend take a turn about the room, his frustration evident in the restless energy that drove him on. "I get why you don't like him, but what's not to trust? I grant you, he's annoying, but…"

John, who never stood on ceremony with Nelson, interrupted. "He smiles too much. He listens too much. He scribbles too much. I don't trust what he's putting down in that journal. And I worry about what he hears. And I haven't even started on how he treats junior officers... Or that touch of sadism he has. I don't want him on Seaview."

They'd been able to put Roman off, that time. And a few months later, John was dead, and Nelson had no time for Roman's foibles. From that day to this, he hadn't seen much of the other man; he hadn't wanted to. It was wrong of him, but he associated Lura with John's death. He wasn't sure why; couldn't put his finger on what made him join the two together in his thoughts. But the last man he wanted aboard right now was Lura. The only problem was, he didn't have much choice.

"Trim steady at one hundred feet, sir. Sparks is trying to raise the Taylor."

"Let me know when he succeeds," Nelson growled sharply; not Chip's fault, of course. He doubted the young man had ever even met Admiral Lura. A pity that blissful ignorance was about to be broken.

Lura had little use for junior officers. In a roomful of admirals, and just one junior, you could bet that Lura wouldn't be the one setting the junior officer at ease. But he wasn't alone in that flaw. There were many who would ignore a junior officer when there were other more exalted men in the room. Nelson hoped he'd never been guilty of that; he knew for a fact that – for all his bluster and swagger – Jiggs Stark had never been guilty of that. Jiggs knew how to value his juniors. Specifically, he knew how to value Nelson's young command team, though he never let them know it. God knew, he never let Nelson forget it…

He couldn't help the smile that curved his lips, breaking his gloomy mood. Jiggs had about had a fit the last time he'd seen him. COMSUBPAC had heard the latest exploits of Madness and Method, and he was not amused.

"Harry, it's criminal the way you stole those boys! They could both have had their own commands by now! Hell, they could have been the youngest admirals in the Fleet by now! What are they doing instead?!"

Nelson laughed at Jiggs' red face. "Serving on the finest boat in the Navy, and neither of them would want it any other way." He sat down and tapped out a cigarette. Didn't smoke them anymore; the pressure of Chip's silent and respectful disapproval – his father had died of lung cancer, and he'd blamed the constant habit of smoking for it - had finally kicked that habit. But he still chewed on one now and then, wishing he could light it. "Guess you've heard about that incident in Greece?"

"They could have been killed! The two finest sub jockeys we've got! What were you thinking, Harry?"

"It wasn't like I told them to go forth and be slaughtered, Jiggs."

No, he hadn't told them to, but trouble always seemed to find Seaview and her officers, even on an innocuous dive on a centuries-old shipwreck in Greek waters. Even Dr. Ramirez hadn't known what that ancient ship had carried…

Nelson shook the thought away. Now was not the time to be daydreaming about their little Greek adventure. That exploit would be hanging over their heads for awhile. Who else but Madness and Method could take down an entire antiquities smuggling ring and rescue a hapless marine archaeologist without even breaking a sweat? He could dine out on that one for years, he suspected, even though his command team would hate the notoriety they had gained…

"We have the Taylor for you, sir." Again Chip's quiet voice broke into his thoughts. Nelson almost growled, before he caught himself. He knew Chip was aware of his bad mood; he also knew the XO was doing his best not to aggravate him. Again he told himself sternly that it wasn't Chip's fault. If anything it was ONI's fault for borrowing his captain once again, and Lura's fault for insisting on coming aboard now, of all times.

So he moderated his tone, said with as much calm dignity as he could muster, "Very well, Mr. Morton," and made his way to the radio shack.

Sparks silently handed him the microphone, so he could speak to the man they were racing to pick up. His entire crew was walking on eggshells around him. It really was too bad; worst of all, he knew they would never hold it against him. His bad temper was part of his legend, and in an odd sort of way, they loved him for it. He shook his head, clicked the microphone, and said gruffly, "We're on our way. We'll be at the rendezvous point in…" He glanced at Chip and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"About thirty minutes, sir." Chip's answer came almost immediately; Nelson didn't question it. He had too much respect for the mathematical mind that had figured the estimate. If Chip said thirty minutes, they'd be there in thirty minutes.

"Thirty minutes." Nelson hoped he would be able to get rid of the mike before Lura answered him. No such luck.

"Wonderful!" Roman was on a high today. Working with him was akin to being on a roller coaster. Most days he was on an emotional high, but there were sudden dips in attitude, days when he plunged into the depths of gloom, and everyone around him felt like they were plodding through black mud up to their waists. Nelson hoped they wouldn't have one of those days while the man was on the boat. "I am so looking forward to finally getting a tour of Seaview! I'm bringing a few of my staff along. I know that won't be a problem."

And it wouldn't be… But it would have been nice to know more than thirty minutes ahead of time that they were coming.

"COB, clear out the captain's cabin for Admiral Lura. You can put Captain Crane's things in with me. And you'd better ready all the guest cabins. It seems the admiral is bringing a few guests." Chip had clearly overheard the conversation, bless him. He would take care of everything.

"It shouldn't be, Roman. How many men are you bringing?" Nelson tried to keep the impatience out of his voice; Lura was going to be a nuisance. He could already tell. He would charge through the boat, cheerfully bullying the men, in the certainty that whatever he thought was right and no one could argue with him. Nelson had already had a word with Chip about the man; the XO was always tactfully professional. Roman shouldn't have any complaints about the way the boat was run, even with Lee unable to be on hand to greet him. But then again, one never knew with Roman Lura… He could create a tempest in a teapot without even breaking a sweat.

"Oh, I don't know... Two or three," was the blithe answer.

Nelson caught Chip's long-suffering sigh, and stifled a laugh, listening to the XO's orders to Francis Sharkey. "Better count on four, chief. You can put two in the guest cabin across from me, and two in the one next door. Tell Cookie to set up the captain's table in the nose as usual and keep it serviced while Admiral Lura is aboard. He and Admiral Nelson will take their meals there. Let Dolores know to send invitations to dine in the wardroom with the officers to whomever the admiral brings with him, with my compliments."

"Aye, sir." Sharkey scurried away to do his bidding. Nelson knew he'd delegate the task of setting up the various living arrangements, but would visit with Yeoman Dolores Brown himself. That pair were being watched with avid interest by the crew; Nelson had a suspicion that bets were being taken on when Sharkey would finally pop the question. And whether or not Dolores would accept…

He smiled at the thought. The old schoolteacher friend he had tapped for the job of yeoman to Chip had surely never thought that her life was about to take an adventurous turn, simply because she'd set foot on this submarine. But she had risen to the challenge with her inevitable grace and wit. He hadn't worried about her taming Chip and Lee; he'd seen her handle her kindergarteners, and knew she could twist his command team around her little finger in a matter of moments. But he had wondered how she'd get along with the rest of the crew. He shouldn't have worried. The COB had taken an immediate shine to her, and the rest of the crew loved her. She was on a first name basis with everyone, and she played no favorites. But he knew that – next to the COB, for whom her eyes sparkled, and her smile blossomed – she had a soft spot in her heart for the two she called her brats: his young and impossibly stubborn command team. He wondered if she called them brats to their faces. Knowing Dolores, she probably did…

"… experiments this time!" Admiral Lura's enthusiastic voice finally broke into his reverie. Nelson frowned at the words, wondering what exactly Roman was saying.

"Just a routine whale-counting mission, Roman." It wasn't, but the old lie served pretty well. "No experiments, this time." That much was true; they had come here to set Lee ashore. If Roman hadn't insisted on coming aboard, they would have remained just outside Pakistani waters to pick Lee up in a week's time. Instead, they had to leave that task to whomever Admiral Parker could find to do it, and baby sit Lura instead. Nelson cursed silently, consigning Roman to perdition.

"A whale-counting mission?" Lura's voice contained so much dismay that Nelson had to stifle a smile. It was less amusing when the other man's voice turned playful, and he giggled. "Now, come on, Harry, I know better than that! You're up to something, aren't you? My clearance is as high as yours! You can tell me!"

"Except," Nelson said sweetly, but with an undertone vicious enough to cause the men in the control room to glance nervously at each other, "that if I tell you, the entire Navy will know within a few hours."

Silence on the other end. Nelson nodded; now they knew where they stood. Lura knew that Nelson didn't trust him to hold his tongue, and Nelson knew that Lura was fishing for secrets. Some men did, if they thought knowing those secrets would get them ahead in some way. And Lura always did like climbing the ladder. He was probably angling to be Secretary of the Navy someday. Cretin.

He glanced at Sparks and smiled to put the radio man at ease. It didn't appear to be working, since Sparks still looked like he'd swallowed something particularly nasty. In fact, the only man in the control room who didn't look as if he thought the admiral was going to begin spitting nails indiscriminately was Chip Morton. Whatever he thought or felt was tidily stowed away behind that perfect poker face. Sometimes Nelson envied that inscrutability. He sighed. "Kidding, Roman. But there's really nothing to tell you. We are a research vessel, and it is whale migration season. We are counting whales. You can help with that, if you like."

Roman's laughter was a bit forced. "I'm sure you don't need my help for that. Anyway, I'll get to see the boat. You know how long I've been angling for an invitation to see the legendary Seaview!" For once, his admiration actually sounded genuine. "I want to meet your Captain Crane, too. His name seems to come up regularly in dispatches."

Nelson's stomach tightened. Here was what he had been dreading. He was quite good at lying, it wasn't that; telling lies to a man like Lura, who told enough himself to know what even a very good lie sounded like was daunting enough. If Lura didn't believe him, they would be in for a hell of a cruise. Lura could be annoying when he thought there was some juicy information to be had. "Sorry, Roman. Lee caught the flu bug before we left on this cruise. Will straightway declared him unfit for duty. You should have heard the fireworks." He paused and glanced at Chip speculatively. The XO's bright head was bent over sonar at the moment, as Kowalski traced the Taylor's position above them. Lee's wasn't the only name that kept turning up in dispatches, but Chip wouldn't thank Nelson for throwing him to the wolves. He hated having a fuss made over him. Any kind of fuss. He much preferred to blend in with the background and watch the situation with those eyes that missed nothing. But in Lee's absence, he'd have to step up to the plate. Nelson stifled a smile as he thought about Chip's reaction to the peace offering he was about to make. "But my XO, Lt. Commander Morton would be quite happy to give you the tour, I'm sure."

Chip's head lifted and he turned sharply to stare at Nelson. He didn't say a word, but Nelson didn't need to be able to read those cold eyes to know what was going through the man's head. He smiled warmly, softening the blow as best he could and turned back to the radio shack.

"Oh, well…" Roman didn't sound pleased. Tough. "If you think the second string can handle it…"

Nelson's borderline good mood deflated instantly, consumed by the fire of his displeasure. "Hardly second string, Lura. My men are all top of the line. You'd better show them the respect they deserve." He noted the men's studious nonchalance out of the corner of his eye. Nothing but professionalism in evidence, but he could imagine what they were thinking. "I won't thank you to insult any of them."

The growl in his voice must have warned Roman not to pursue that line of thought. "Of course, Harry! You know I would never…" He trailed off and changed the subject. "The captain tells me that he has Seaview on sonar now. You must be getting close."

At almost the same moment, Chip stepped back to the watch officer's platform and said quietly, "We're in sonar range, sir. Rendezvous in twenty minutes." Without waiting for the order he knew would follow, he began to give orders to surface. Transiting the surface in the middle of the ocean was a daunting prospect for many, since the waves were high and the elements were seldom kind, but Admiral Lura was high enough up the totem pole that they owed him a show, yet still low enough that he would be flattered that Seaview had surfaced to make the final run to the Taylor. He would also love the opportunity to see how Seaview ran topside. She was a majestic sight, sitting on the surface, her manta ray nose gently rising and falling with the waves. And where many men would be nervous about running her topside, Chip had too much experience to make a mistake; it was in the nature of routine for him, and Nelson knew he enjoyed standing on the bridge, directing the sub's movements. It was a suitable compliment, even for a man they both wished at Jericho.

"Yes, twenty minutes out now. I need to speak to Taylor's captain, Roman. We'll need directions on how to tie up next to him to ease your transfer." Nelson listened to Roman's self-important sign-off, stifling the temptation to roll his eyes. Soon Captain Halliburton's deep voice came across the radio.

"Admiral Nelson, good to hear from you, sir. If you'll move to our starboard, I think we can accommodate you easily…"

He broke off, just as Chip announced, "We're surfacing now, sir." Nelson knew that the captain was admiring the view as the submarine broke the surface, water running off her decks, sleek and beautiful in the sunlight. He was not just imagining the reaction; he'd seen it many times over the years. Seaview deserved it. She was a beautiful gray lady, not the type to which anyone could be indifferent.

Halliburton was no exception. "I swear, sir, every time I see her surface I wish I'd gone in for the Silent Service." There was awe in his voice, but there was also an undertone of amusement. He wouldn't have been as highly regarded, if he couldn't laugh at himself. "And then I remember that I'm claustrophobic…"

Nelson grinned at that. "No dark closed in spaces on Seaview, Ray." He lowered the mike and gave orders over his shoulder. "Proceed to the starboard side, Mr. Morton. We'll tie up, there."

"Very well, sir." Chip began giving orders of his own as Nelson turned back to the mike.

"Give us twenty minutes, Ray, and then we'll take your visitor off your hands."

"Thank God for that," Captain Halliburton snorted softly. "I think my XO is ready to keelhaul him!"

Not surprising at all, even if Nelson didn't know who was XO on the USS Taylor. Whoever he was, he'd have been a saint in training if he could handle Roman Lura's interfering busybody ways without getting ruffled feathers. And knowing Ray Halliburton, he would have stayed out of sight as much as possible. Doubtless, his XO had been the one dealing with Admiral Lura… Not fair, really, but Ray had had his fair share of run-ins with one of the most annoying admirals in the Navy. He would have welcomed the chance to delegate the task of handling Roman to his XO. "Well, we might even be able to handle that task for you as well." Nelson listened to the laughter, glad that Halliburton couldn't see his frown. It had occurred to the admiral that he shouldn't and wouldn't leave Chip holding the bag on this cruise. The XO had enough on his plate without having to keep up with Admiral Lura's demands, complaints, and nosy questions. They were all going to be on pins and needles trying to keep Lee's mission from the man… Add to that the worry that this would be one of those rare times when Lee came back injured, when the mission after all turned out to be not quite so routine… One of them would be liable to lose their temper with Admiral Lura…

Why couldn't the man take no for an answer? And why had he felt compelled to call in every favor he could to force Nelson to take him on now? Admiral Parker of ONI thought it would be good cover for Lee's mission. No one would suspect that the captain of a boat that was entertaining an admiral who was well-known to have an insatiable appetite for information he had no business knowing was actually absent in a foreign country gathering information on a terrorist cell… No, the flu story should go over well, if they could just sustain it. Will had all his ducks in a row, even down to daily contacts with the infirmary at the Institute, as if he were checking on Lee's condition. And the men were moped enough at Lee's absence that Lura was bound to think they were worried about him… Which they were, but for a far different reason. The only one on board Roman would have any difficulty with was probably Chip Morton, whose inscrutable features would stir all kinds of frustrated curiosity.

He almost pitied his XO. Lura would take one look, and assume that there were myriad secrets behind that carefully expressionless façade. He wouldn't notice the chilly gaze, or the polite but firm efforts to stave off his curiosity. He would probably drive Chip mad.

Tempting as it was, therefore, to delegate everything dealing with Roman to Chip, Nelson knew he couldn't do it. With a sigh, he carried on small talk with Halliburton as the XO disappeared up top, to guide the boat into place at the Taylor's starboard side. Nelson was unsurprised at the end of the twenty minutes to hear Halliburton's impressed commendation. "That boy of yours sure can handle his boat."

Sharkey, easing closer, as curious as Lura but far more engaging about it, snorted. "What did he expect? That Mr. Morton would blow it?"

Nelson smiled, but didn't relay the comment. Instead he said with quiet intensity. "Yes, he can. It's in his blood, Ray." It almost literally was. Related distantly to the famous WWII submariner, Dudley "Mush" Morton, Chip had been earmarked by Nelson for Seaview almost from the time they'd met… when the lad was twelve years old, and Seaview was just an idea kicking around in the admiral's brain. The lad's mathematical intellect had shown itself, even then. So had his ability to hide emotions behind that stony façade. Lura would drive him crazy, but no one would know it except Nelson himself.

Halliburton sighed into the microphone. "Yeah, he's good. But how old is he? No wonder they call Seaview Nelson's Nursery." He chuckled as he said it, knowing how much the admiral disliked that moniker.

"I don't run a nursery!" Nelson snarled the words, but knew he wouldn't make much of an impression on Halliburton. Ray's sense of humor was always just a little over the top. Now that he'd seen Chip, quietly and competently driving the boat, he would never let the nickname go. Thank God, he hadn't seen Lee… The two of them together were the youngest command team in the Navy…

The hatch opened and Chip slid down, turning to help an older man down the ladder. "Welcome aboard, sir," he said respectfully, and directed the man toward Nelson. The admiral sighed and bade goodbye to Halliburton, then offered a smile to Admiral Roman Lura.

Short and squat, the newcomer had salt and pepper hair, though his mustache was fully grey. He looked around the control room with bright, inquisitive brown eyes as he followed Chip to Nelson's side. "Harry! I've never seen anything like it! She really is a grand lady, isn't she?" He babbled on for several seconds before pausing for breath.

Nelson leaped into the silence with his introduction. "My XO, Lt. Commander Chip Morton. He's acting as captain this trip, while Lee is down with the flu."

Chip nodded acknowledgment of the introduction as he stepped back up onto the watch officer's platform. He didn't really need to stand a watch, but – like Lee – he was hardly ever out of the control room, keeping his eye on the junior officers, always close by if they needed help. None of them would ever admit how much they depended on him. At least not out loud. But their respect for the XO was immense.

Sharkey moved forward to help another man down the ladder. Lura was not as polite as Nelson; he didn't bother to introduce anyone. Instead, he linked his arm with Nelson's and drew him into the nose. "I love these windows! I had no idea that submarines had these things!"

"It's unique to Seaview, Roman." Nelson began to explain herculite, crush depth, and the crash doors. His back to the ladder, he had no idea how many men Lura had brought with him. It didn't matter. Chip had planned for them. All would be well…

"Sir…" Sharkey's voice held outright alarm, but his warning was truncated by a gunshot, loud in the contained space. Nelson pulled free of Roman and swung around, scanning the control room frantically, looking to see what had happened, who might have been hurt…

A man dropped to the floor, gun in hand, still smoking from the shot. He had cocked the gun again, before anyone had reacted, before Nelson had even found his injured man. A sneer, a step, and he stood at the watch officer's platform. "Oh, look." The voice was unfamiliar; the face was that of a stranger… "He's still breathing." He crouched down, setting the barrel of the gun right against Chip's forehead; the XO was down and out, bleeding profusely from a wound high in his chest… It looked serious enough that Nelson's heart stuttered for a moment. "Anyone want me to finish the job?"