Damage Control

by Kate

Another WHN! This one is for the fourth season episode, Edge of Doom. Thanks to Theresa, Liz and Diane for the beta work and feedback (and to Theresa for keeping me entertained with her silly comments LOL!). I realize in an actual military hierarchy things wouldn’t go down this way, but I’m factoring in that the crew and officers of Seaview are Reservists, not active military, and are privately employed by a research facility. As a result, I’ve taken a page from the master of I’m-going-to-do-whatever-I-please himself, Irwin Allen, and told the story *I* wanted to tell. I hope you’ll indulge me. Comments, as usual, can be sent to veniceplace12@verizon.net

Lee Crane told himself it was irrational to be angry. Venting or giving his friends the cold-shoulder wouldn’t solve anything. It was over, done with, and orders were orders. But, damn it, he was ticked! There was nothing like repeatedly being set-up by your best friend and the man you considered a father. He could overlook the testing ‘Sharkey’ had put him through because the man had been an impersonator - - the very infiltrator Chip and Nelson had been trying to flush out.

He knew he should cut his friends some slack, but the sting and lingering humiliation were still too new to swallow. He couldn’t think of anything worse than being made to look inept in front of his crew. Too bad Starke hadn’t been around to participate in the ‘fun.’ The older man would have certainly loved plotting his failure.

Even now, he didn’t understand why he’d been considered the prime suspect. Was it because of his position as captain of Seaview or because he’d once been brainwashed by the People’s Republic? Did Naval brass consider him an easily compromised target or merely the best candidate given his security level clearance? Certainly, if he wanted to infiltrate an enemy sub, assuming the position of captain would provide the highest level of authority. But how difficult would it have been for Nelson or Chip to ask him a question to which only he knew the answer? They could have tested his memory on an incident or fact an imposter couldn’t possibly have known. 

Something. Anything!

With an aggravated sigh, he bowed his head and scraped a hand through his hair. The paperwork on his desk was superficial, nothing that couldn’t wait until he was at the Institute later in the week. But he was reluctant to leave Seaview. When he did, he’d surely cross paths with Chip in the control room as the exec checked off the departing crew. And if not Chip, Nelson would be prowling the boat, wanting to talk to him.

Talk. Now. Only after Lee had blown up and read the older man the riot act. He shouldn’t have had to do it. Trust should have been enough for both of them. Instead that faith came out badly battered, at least on his side of the coin. And all because of unjustified suspicion and a-duty-and-orders hierarchy. 

It didn’t matter he wasn’t active Navy. Even as a Reservist he’d surrendered his rights, including the privilege to disagree or defend himself. He wasn’t a civilian and Nelson, everything else aside, was his commanding officer. If the admiral had been told to flush out an impersonator, the older man wouldn’t let anything as trivial as feelings and mutual respect get in the way. Nelson might be the man Lee thought of as his father, but he was also a four-star admiral closely linked to the power structure in Washington.

As a result, the older man and Chip had conspired against him. Made him look incompetent in front of his crew, second-guessed and countermanded his orders. He’d even started to question his own ability and doubt his mental outlook. It was only natural with Nelson and Chip telling him he was on edge, that he’d given orders he knew he’d never voiced. Didn’t he have a right to be angry?

You sent Sharkey to the circuitry room, Lee. I heard you. Ask any man here. We all heard you.

He could still hear Chip saying the words. Lying to him. Somehow having his friend play along was far worse than Nelson’s deceit. He and the admiral had often been forced to navigate duty versus their unique father/son relationship. But Chip . . .

As much as his fanatical protectiveness often got on Lee’s nerves, he expected Chip to play the role of big brother, looking out for him. To have that same person suddenly conspiring to make him trip up and fail was miserably hard to overlook. He knew he needed to quit sulking but, damn it, why was he always the one swallowing his anger?

Maybe all he needed was a cooling down period. A chance to go away on his own and do some thinking. Alyssa was out of town for the weekend, and he wasn’t due at the Institute until Monday. He could pack up, book himself a hotel room and disappear. 

Don’t you mean lick your wounds, Crane?

He grimaced, hating the thought of running. It wasn’t his style. Maybe all he really needed was a quiet dinner somewhere and a few beers to deaden the pain. Normally, he would ask Chip or Nelson to tag along, but this was one time he didn’t want either man around.

Decision made, Lee stood and tossed a few files into his briefcase. He grabbed his jacket and cap from the closet, snatched up his briefcase and headed from the cabin.

**********

“Kowalski, aren’t you done with that yet?”

Rick Kowalski glanced up from the guts of the sonar panel as Chip Morton marked the last crewman off the sub. 

“A little longer, Mister Morton.”

He could have gone with the others and left the repair for tomorrow, but he’d originally anticipated only a few minutes of tinkering to fix the glitch. Besides, it wasn’t like he had anything pressing lined up for the evening. His girlfriend, Veronica Morton, was at some kind of art show with her business partner and friend, Deyanne Montgomery. They’d already planned to celebrate his return to port tomorrow, spending the entire day together. Since Dey was Morton’s girlfriend, Ski figured the blond man couldn’t be in that much of a rush either.

Or maybe the XO was just feeling antsy over the way the whole cruise had gone down. Served him right in Ski’s opinion. He hadn’t known what was going on at the time but, now that the dust had settled, he understood the reason for the mistakes heaped on Crane. No wonder the skipper had been cool to the exec and the admiral, even after the truth had been revealed. Yeah, they were all adults and should probably just suck the whole thing up, but it amounted to a lot of underhanded garbage in Ski’s opinion. 

Nothing worse than making the captain of the boat look incompetent.

“Everyone off?” The new voice came from Admiral Nelson as he entered the control room through the connecting hatch. A quick glance took in Ski’s progress at the sonar panel before shifting to Morton.

“Everyone but you, me, Kowalski and Lee, Sir,” the exec answered. 

Nelson frowned. “Exactly where is our captain?”

“I don’t know, Sir. I was just going to...” He stopped abruptly as the soft clatter of shoes descending the spiral stairs drew everyone’s attention to the observation nose.

Ski was surprised to see Crane dressed in his jacket with his cap tucked under his arm, briefcase in hand. He was usually the last one off the submarine whenever Seaview returned to port. He slowed as he approached the plotting table, his bearing noticeably stiff and overly correct.

“Admiral.” He acknowledged the older man with a brief glance before fixing his attention on Morton. “Mister Morton, is everyone off the sub?” The question was crisp, all business.

Ski slid a sideways glance from the wires he was fiddling with, unobtrusively monitoring the exchange. After four years of watching these three, he’d grown extremely adept at keeping his eyes and ears open while maintaining his duties. 

Morton pressed his lips together in a severe line, irked by his commander’s tone. “Aye, Sir,” he said quietly. Ski saw him exchange a sharp glance with Nelson.

Crane ignored it, holding out his hand for a final reporting of all departments. Morton passed him a clipboard and he flipped through the pages before snatching a pen from the plotting table. “I trust you both consider me sufficiently competent to sign off on this?” There was an icy bite to the question, and he kept his eyes lowered as he scribbled his name at the bottom of the report.

Morton heaved an irritated sigh. “Lee...”

“Ski, what are you still doing here?” Crane ignored Morton completely. He thrust the clipboard at the exec without looking, then crossed to peer down into the guts of the sonar station.

“Uh . . .” Kowalski hedged, witnessing the intentional brush off. Coupled with the rabid tension in the air, it made him uncomfortable. He knew Crane and Nelson occasionally butted heads - - which was bad enough given their unorthodox father/son relationship - - but having the skipper at odds with the admiral and his best friend was a little too grating for his nerves. “We had a minor glitch, Sir, just as we entered the harbor. I’m almost done.”

“How much longer?”

“Twenty minutes.”

Crane nodded, thoughtful. “I understand Veronica is at an art show with Dey. Would you like to grab a beer and some dinner?”

Ski balked. He shot a glance at Morton, painfully aware the exec looked as stunned as he felt. He knew Morton and/or Nelson often had drinks and dinner with Crane when the sub returned to port if their respective female companions were otherwise engaged. And he did consider Crane a friend, but the man was also his commanding officer, completely out of his league when it came to rank. Officers did not fraternize with enlisted men but, then again, Seaview was not a Navy boat, and the situation with Veronica Morton had opened up some awkward doors. Even the XO had given him leave to use his first name when they were off the boat in a social situation. Ski still felt uncomfortable doing it, but he was adapting. 

And, of course, there’d been plenty of Institute parties or informal get-togethers where he’d shot the breeze with Crane over a beer or two, but it had always been in the company of others. He suddenly realized he’d been quiet too long.

“Ski?” Crane prompted.

“Um . . .” He stumbled, at a dreadful loss for words. “Sure, Sir.”

“Good. I’ve got a change of clothes in my office at the Institute. When you finish here, get cleaned up, then drop by when you’re ready. We’ll figure out where to go later.”

“Sure, Skipper.” Kowalski managed a weak smile. Morton was glaring at him now. So hard, he was certain one of them would spontaneously combust. Damn! He was already stepping lightly around the exec because of his romantic relationship with Veronica. Now he’d racked up even more demerits despite the situation being out of his control.

Crane nodded, then, without another word, exited by way of the conning tower. Ski swallowed hard. He wished he were anywhere but in the control room with an obviously fuming exec and a quietly-calculating admiral. Self-conscious, he returned his attention to the sonar panel. His heartbeat was like a thud in the utter silence that followed. He really liked Crane, got along great with him, but he had a sinking feeling the captain had just put him on the hot seat. A second later he heard the crisp stride of footsteps across the deck and found himself staring down at Morton’s highly-polished shoes.

“Kowalski,” the XO ground out between tightly clenched teeth.

“Sir?” He raised his head and attempted a breezy smile. Shit. It wasn’t going to fly. Morton’s expression was a combination of hellfire and ice. “It’s not my fault,” he protested quickly. No doubt about it, he was about to get one hell of a royal ass-chewing. And when Morton exploded on his subordinates, he put even the admiral’s infamous outbursts to shame. “What was I supposed to do, Sir? Say ‘no?’”

“Of course not.” Nelson placed a hand on Morton’s shoulder, pulling him back a step. “Just calm down, Chip. Lee’s ego was bruised, and he’s making sure we both know it.”

“So you’re just going to let him nurse all that misguided anger?” The question was snapped much too quickly and far too hotly. Nelson’s spine stiffened, and Morton abruptly realized he’d overstepped his bounds. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to compose himself. “I’m sorry, Sir. That was out of line.”

“Understandable, considering I was the one who ordered you to set-up Lee.” Nelson smiled faintly, but there was self-aversion in the grin. “I realize you’re angry too, Chip. At me. For making you deceive your friend. That had to be as easy to swallow was a double-bladed knife.”

Mollified by the admission, Morton backed down a notch. He cleared his throat. “Captain Crane is my commanding officer.”

“And Lee Crane is your best friend.”

Morton clenched his jaw and looked away. “There’s nothing more I can do,” he muttered.

“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re going to fix this before Lee stews over it and makes it worse than it already is.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

Nelson grinned. “With Kowalski’s help.”

For the second time within minutes, Ski found himself the center of attention. He didn’t care for the way Nelson was grinning at him or the way Morton eyed him up as if trying to decide whether or not he was worth his weight in chum.

“Sirs. I don’t think...”

“That’s right,” Morton cut him off. “You don’t think. We’ll do it for you.” He shot Nelson a questioning glance. “What are we thinking, Sir?”

A conspiring gleam danced in Nelson’s vivid blue eyes. “This is how we’re going to approach it . . .”

**********

Kowalski was nervous. 

No, hell, that wasn’t even close. Jittery? Jumpy? Panicked? 

Yeah. Panicked was good. He didn’t know how he’d gotten roped into the whole convoluted mess in the first place. Should have never stayed to work on that sonar panel. Stupid move, Kowalski. 

But it had been a chance to hang around and see if Nelson and Morton tried to smooth things over with Crane. He had to admit he’d been curious, given how tight the captain was with the other two men. That’s what he got for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong - - ‘volunteered’ by a 4-star and the XO to take part in their scheming. If he’d just left ten minutes earlier, he wouldn’t be stuck dead-center in the middle of blow-up involving Seaview’s three senior officers. Go figure. 

Fortunately Crane was proving to be low key. He hadn’t really said much since they’d met at the Institute, the captain’s mood noticeably melancholy and introspective. Ski had volunteered to drive and, without voicing a single protest, the black-haired man had slumped into the passenger’s seat of Kowalski’s ’74 Javelin. Concerned by his silence, Ski shot a glance in his direction.

Crane had his eyes closed, his head resting against the seatback, hands loosely laced over his stomach. Like Kowalski, he’d changed into civilian clothing and was dressed in black jeans and a stone-washed gray denim shirt. Dusk was still falling over the city and, in the spectral half-light, Ski noticed his face looked drawn, the sharply angled lines of his cheekbones far too prominent. Add the lowered veil of his eyelashes - - black as soot and freakishly long for a man - -   and he looked like some kind of ethereal wraith plucked from the Netherworld. Slender as he was, you’d never know the man could deck you with a single blow. 

Lost in concentration, Kowalski rubbed his chin. He learned first-hand just how hard Crane could hit. The guy had to be using brass knuckles, he’d told Seaview’s then-COB, Curly, when their newly-appointed captain had crept aboard undetected and decked him.

Hopefully, by the time the evening was over, Crane wouldn’t be inclined to deck him again.

Heaving a mental sigh, Kowalski steered the car through Santa Barbara traffic. He had expected Crane to protest when he’d announced he needed to make a stop at Veronica and Deyanne’s gallery, the Web Spinner. Instead, the captain had merely grunted a moody acknowledgement, immediately falling back into silence. 

After a time, the older man stirred and dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Ski. I guess I’m not good company tonight.”

“It’s all right, Sir.” He pulled the Javelin into the back lot of the Web Spinner, sliding into a parking stall by the door, and killed the ignition. He had a spare key to the gallery, courtesy of Veronica, and knew Morton had one too, given by Dey. Hopefully, the girls wouldn’t mind the back room being used for a little friendly intervention. With any luck, Ski could get Crane inside then disappear before the captain took his head off for his part in the conspiracy. Wherever Nelson and Morton had parked - - probably on a side street - - they’d been careful to conceal their cars from view. 

“You might as well come inside, Sir,” he suggested, trying to sound casual. “I’ve got to round up Ron’s ledger book for her, and I’m not sure where she keeps it.”

Crane shifted, making himself more comfortable. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

Well, hell. That wasn’t going to work.

Ski wet his lips, hoping he looked sufficiently innocent. He realized his palms, still wrapped around the steering wheel, were sweating. “Uh, Sir . . . it really could be awhile. I’ve got to go through several file cabinets and...”

“All right.” With a defeated sigh, Crane opened the car door. “Just make sure you get me someplace where I can have a few beers. Then get me home,” he muttered.

And suddenly Ski understood. 

It was more than just the slump of the captain’s shoulders, a telltale indication of his dejected mood. Crane was feeling unnaturally low and planned on kicking back a few. It’s why he hadn’t insisted on driving, hoping he could bank on Ski to take him home when the time came. 

Kowalski ground his teeth, irked at Nelson and Morton all over again. In one respect, he felt honored Crane thought enough of him to trust him with his reputation. How many ratings got invited to a beer-and-bull session with their captain, especially when said captain was looking to drown his misery in a pitcher or two? On the other hand, he was growing increasingly concerned about Crane’s overly bleak frame of mind. If the commander thought faith had been broken between him, Nelson and Morton would it be enough for him to do something stupid - - like resign?

The thought made Ski’s gut clench. Seaview wouldn’t be Seaview without Crane commanding her. Take away the captain and the lifeblood of the boat went with him. Hell, they might as well just become a regular Navy tub without Crane. No question, the admiral and the exec definitely had their work cut out for them. 

As he walked toward the back door, Kowalski fished through the collection of keys on his car ring until he located the one for the gallery. He could hear Crane a step behind him and opened the door, standing aside to allow the older man to enter first.

Crane walked a few steps into the dark room and paused, waiting for Kowalski to activate the light switch. Ski was careful to lock the door from the inside - - one of those rare locks that required a key - - before he fumbled on the lights.

Crane blinked.

And then Kowalski heard his voice, his earlier despondency replaced by cold steel. “What the hell is meaning of this?”

**********

Lee knew he’d been set up.

Damn, he’d been on the receiving end enough times over the last few days to recognize the unfairness immediately. He should have known Nelson and Chip weren’t through with him, but he’d expected far more from Kowalski. Seething, he turned from the two uniformed officers standing in front of him to level a murderous glare on his favored senior rating.

“Kowalski, you just bought a boatload of trouble.”

“Don’t blame him, Lee,” Nelson interjected, trying to be the voice of reason. “He didn’t have any say in the matter. We ordered him to bring you here.”

“Well, now he can just ‘unbring’ me.”

Lee stalked to the door and wrenched on the knob. It didn’t budge. Growing angrier, he bit back a curse. From the corner of his eye he saw Kowalski trying to slide unobtrusively deeper into the room.

“Kowalski!” His outraged snarl froze the younger man in his tracks, immobilizing him like a deer in the headlights. The rating had the same startled, terrified look in his eyes. It wasn’t often Lee let his temper show, at least not with his crew, but he made no attempt to hide it now. Furious, he held out his hand. “Give me the key.”

“You’ll do no such thing, sailor,” Chip snapped quickly.

Lee spun, his gaze hot enough to melt stone. “And since when do you outrank me, Mister Morton?”

“He doesn’t.” Nelson’s voice was a calming counterbalance to Lee’s blistering anger. “But I do.”

Lee clenched his fists, his chest heaving. Damn, but he wanted to punch something! Then just that quickly, he forced himself to regain control, channeling every ounce of anger into frost. “I’m sorry, Sir,” he said tightly. Bitterly. “I thought I was off your clock at the moment. Our contract does allow me personal time. If you intend to modify that agreement, I retain the right to review any change before consent. In the meantime, I’m on my own clock, and I want Kowalski to open the damn door!”

Nelson’s nostrils flared. Lee guessed he’d pushed the envelope a little too far, his anger blundering through on the end of the demand, but it couldn’t be helped. Why the hell was it so hard to move past his friends’ betrayal? It wasn’t like Nelson and Chip had gleefully sought to set him up. They’d been ordered to do it.

And just how hard did either protest, Lee speculated acidly. The thought must have shown on his face or, at least, the bitterness did.

Chip heaved a defeated sigh and glanced at Nelson. “Look, this isn’t right. We can’t keep him here. We’re just making it worse, Admiral.”

“All right. Fine.” Nelson was still the voice of reason, despite a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Kowalski, unlock the door.”

The rating couldn’t react swiftly enough, fumbling with the key as he approached and shoved it into the lock. Lee made dead certain to crowd his space, breathing down his neck, ensuring his belligerence was felt. Tenfold. “You’ve just volunteered to be my driver again, sailor.”

Kowalski stepped back, clear of the door, and licked his lips. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Sir, I can’t do that.”

“What?” Lee’s voice grew soft and cold. “Listen to me, Kowalski, and listen good. I just gave you a direct order. You have exactly one chance to rethink your answer before I make certain you wish you had.”

Bullets of sweat popped out on the rating’s face but he held his ground. “No disrespect, Sir, but I’m on my own clock too. Officially off duty. You, uh . . .” He swallowed audibly. “You can’t order me to do anything.”

Chip gave a surprised grunt, the sound making Lee realize Kowalski took the stand of his own initiative. No question the man had gall. The show of defiance - - enough to set his career back to the Paleozoic Era with any other commander - - was clearly not part of the plan. Another time Lee might have appreciated the rating’s audacity but at the moment he couldn’t see past the brimstone in his head.

“Don’t embroil yourself any deeper, Kowalski,” Chip interceded. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Ski’s eyes flashed to the side. “You ordered me to bring him here.”

“That’s right. And you did your part. You’re off the hook, and so is Captain Crane. If he wants to go home, take him home.”

“The hell with it,” Lee spat. He wasn’t going to be discussed like a piece of meat. “I’ll call a cab. Where’s the phone?”

Only now did he recognize the room was a combination sitting area and office. Two putty-gray file cabinets and a walnut desk were shoved against the far wall, an olive green sofa, two low-back chairs and a coffee table to the right of the door. Several boxes were stacked beside an exit that Lee guessed led into the gallery, and the walls were adorned with a variety of oil paintings that he recognized as Deyanne’s work. A small table holding a coffeemaker and Styrofoam cups was to the left of the desk. Lee spied the phone by an ‘in’ basket and crisply crossed the room. He started punching buttons immediately before realizing there was no dial tone.

“What’s this?” He held up the receiver fixing Chip and Nelson with an accusing glare. “Not satisfied just dumping me here? Did you cut the wires too?”

Kowalski grimaced. “It has nothing to do with them, Captain. Ron was having problems with the phone service before I left on Seaview. I guess she didn’t get it fixed.”

“That’s damn convenient.” Lee slammed the receiver down feeling a slow burn creep up the back of his neck. He knew he was behaving badly, conduct unbecoming an officer, but he’d been brought to the gallery under false pretenses, practically kidnapped. Didn’t that give him the right to vent? He stood for a moment, weighing his options, determined not be trapped and play into Nelson and Chip’s hands. “I’ll walk down the street. There’s bound to be a pay phone.” 

He’d taken two steps toward the door when he came to a rigid halt. Nelson had moved in front of it and stood leaning back against the wood, his hands looped behind him, resting in the small of his back. His stance was anything but confrontational but there wasn’t a man in the room who’d physically try to remove him.

“You’re blocking my path, Sir.” 

“Yes. I am.” 

**********

Harry wondered how far he’d have to push before Lee simply grew frustrated enough to concede. There was no question that between the two of them, his young captain would be the one to back down. Given the circumstances and his lack of alternatives, Lee couldn’t win. And that had to gall the hell out of him.

“There’s a front door,” the younger man said tightly.

“There is.” Chip agreed. “And it’s locked.”

“Fine.” Snarled now, all attempts at patience gone. “Then say whatever you have to say and let’s get the damn thing over with. I’d like to go home and forget the whole miserable cruise ever happened.”

“And you think we feel differently?” Chip challenged.

If Lee had a comeback, he chose not to voice it. Judging by the tension in his shoulders and the stubborn set of his jaw, Harry knew he’d decided not to say anything at all. Period. He’d let them talk until they were blue in the face, all the while silently fuming. After they’d had their say, he’d tell them they’d wasted their breath, then stroll down the street to call a cab.

Damn. There were times Lee Crane drove him positively nuts. “It would help, Captain, if you’d sit down.”

A clipped nod and Lee folded into a seat in the corner of the couch. He kept his legs braced apart, one hand drilling the arm rest as his fingers tapped up and down. His whole posture was combative, his normally expressive eyes shuttered and cold. No question they had their work cut out for them.

Harry stepped away from the door. “That’s better.” Hell, it wasn’t even close, but at least Lee was no longer actively seeking an escape route.

“I’ll leave now, Sirs,” Kowalski muttered, slinking toward the door like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Sit down!” Lee commanded sharply. “You’re up to your neck in this whether you like it or not.”

Kowalski blanched, but he did as ordered, fully aware he was skating on thin ice with his captain. Harry watched as the rating edged into one of the stationary chairs. If they ever managed to clear the air, he’d have to pull Lee aside and have a word with him about Kowalski. He’d hate to see his commander’s bond with the rating shattered because of something he’d done.

“First, I want it on record that Chip protested the whole thing from the start. He wanted nothing to do with setting you up. He even tried to refuse, but I ordered him to participate. He had no choice.”

Lee’s eyes flashed to his blond friend, but his expression didn’t soften, and he made no comment. After a second he looked away, glancing moodily straight ahead.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, Lee, but you were the prime suspect.”

“There were other ways of finding out whether or not I was an imposter. Did you have to make me look incompetent in front of my crew?”

Harry blinked, surprised he’d spoken. Lee’s gaze was still turned resolutely ahead, but the anger in his voice had been tempered by bitterness. He was no longer snarling. What Harry heard instead was hurt underscored with frost.

“Kowalski,” he said. “Did you ever once, during our last cruise, think Captain Crane was incompetent?”

The rating balked, appalled by the idea. “No, Sir.”

“Did you ever find any of his actions grossly negligent?”

“Absolutely not, Sir.”

“Then how did you overlook the mistakes he made?”

“I didn’t, Sir. I just knew someone else had to be a fault, that there had to be a different explanation. I’ve worked with Captain Crane for four years now, Sir. I know what kind of commander he is, and I know he wouldn’t have made mistakes like that.”

“But you witnessed some of them,” Nelson persisted.

“I did, Sir.”

“And?”

“Like I said, Sir. I knew the skipper wasn’t responsible.”

Harry glanced at Lee. The younger man was watching Kowalski, a hint of surprise in his eyes. It wasn’t much, but at least it was a start, a lowering of defenses. God only knew, Lee Crane had an armory of them.

“You see, Captain,” Harry said softly. “Your crew never doubted you.”

Lee’s mouth tightened. “But you did.” He shot an accusing glance at Chip. “And you.”

With a disgusted exhale, Chip sprawled in the remaining chair. “I told you this wouldn’t work, Admiral,” he grumbled at Nelson. “He has every right to be angry with us. The whole thing stinks. If Intelligence had done their job in the first place they would have known the imposter had Sharkey pegged.”

“You’re right.” Nelson joined Lee on the couch, making sure there was adequate distance between them. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d earned the right to touch Lee years ago, gradually wending his way through those damn defenses. Right now he knew that privilege had been obstinately and categorically revoked. “I guess there’s no repairing the damage.” Leaning forward he laced his hands between his knees. “That’s not to say we can’t continue to work together. There’s nothing wrong with a strictly professional relationship. By-the-book, like Starke’s always wanted.”

Kowalski groaned.

“Don’t worry, Ski,” Lee said quietly. “I don’t run my boat that way.”

Harry was surprised by the softening in his tone. It was probably that, more than anything that gave Kowalski the gumption to speak. “Permission to speak freely?” he asked the room in general.

Lee glanced at Nelson.

“I think he’s asking you, Captain.”

“I really wanted to address all three of you,” Kowalski countered.

“Go ahead, Ski,” Lee told him.

**********

The rating shifted. 

Lee had never known him to hedge at speaking his mind, at least not within reason, but Kowalski was clearly uncomfortable about what he wanted to say. At the very least, how he wanted to say it.

“I don’t like what happened any more than the rest of you, but I’d hate to think it would be enough to bust up what the three of you have going. We . . . that is . . . I mean, the crew . . . we think we’ve got the best damn - - uh, pardon, Sirs - - command structure of any sub out there. If one of you were to leave or, uh, change the way you interact with the other two, it would affect everyone on Seaview. The whole boat. I don’t think you realize how much the crew, er . . .” He dropped his eyes self-consciously. “Appreciates what you’ve got going. We don’t talk about it where we can be overheard by anyone wearing brass - - pardon, Sirs - - but we bullshit among ourselves. We understand the command structure of Admiral, Captain and XO, but everyone on the boat knows there’s more involved than that.” He paused, wetting his lips. “Like that time Captain Crane and Mister Morton got trapped in Sick Bay and the skipper was hurt. Dr. Eldridge and his wife were onboard along with the skipper’s step-father, remember?” He frowned in clear distaste at the mention of Mitchell Blake but quickly continued. “Everyone knew the skipper was in bad shape but having Mister Morton there gave us all hope. We knew if anyone could pull him through it was his best friend.”

Uncomfortable, Lee dropped his eyes. He remembered the occasion all too well. An explosion of ethylene oxide had left him with lethal shards of metal and glass embedded in his side. An underwater seismic event had crippled Seaview, leaving her marooned on the bottom, the compartments around Sick Bay flooded. He and Chip had been trapped, cut off from the rest of the boat and her crew. At the time, he hadn’t been sure if he were going to live or die. It was only through Chip’s attentiveness and support, and the intervention of Seaview’s spirit - - a creature who called herself Mae - - that Lee had survived. Resurrected, the memories were raw and personal, far more traumatic than he wanted to remember.

If not for Chip . . .

The exec shifted in his seat, but it was obvious he was remembering the strain of those hours too. 

Sobered, Lee cleared his throat. “I remember that,” he said quietly. All too well. 

And what about the time Chip had held him in a tent in the Alaskan wilderness, brushing tears from his face as the prehistoric creature that had tortured him died? That was probably as vulnerable as he’d ever been, something only he and Chip knew about.

Suddenly, he felt like an idiot for his earlier anger. What right did he have to grow belligerent over something as trivial as the events of their last cruise when Chip had saved his life - - more than once? You didn’t erase eighteen years of loyalty, devotion and brotherly affection with a few rotten hours of forced-by-order deception.

Unaware his thoughts had turned introspective, Kowalski continued:

“And then there was that time the admiral was sick, and we didn’t know the reason. Remember that, Skipper?” He looked at Lee. “Dr. Rook was new to the Institute, and she’d discovered fossilized coral in the Razorback Fracture Zone. We all know something happened when you went down to the sea lab, Leviathan II, and Admiral Nelson followed. We knew he was worried, sick inside. Not the kind of worry you get protecting your buddy’s back, like me and Pat. This was different. We don’t talk about it within earshot, Sir.” He was still looking at Lee. “But we all know the admiral thinks of you as his son. The crew will probably never know what happened on the Leviathan, but I’d bet my last dollar it’s something the two of you aren’t likely to forget.”

Lee shifted. 

It had been one of the darkest times of his life . . . the admiral sick, dying, even Jamie unable to help him. He’d felt powerless, unable to make a difference, anger and fear a hideous tangle in his gut. It was only later that he’d read the legend of the golden broom coral and realized he could save the man who’d become a father to him by sacrificing his own life. 

He’d made that decision willingly, accepting death. But when the time came the admiral, who’d discovered his plan, offered his own life instead. In the end, they had saved each other, each ready to make the ultimate sacrifice to spare the other. For Lee, it had made him realize he had value . . . that someone cared for him solely for who he was and not for what he could accomplish. Up until that point he’d always based his worth on ability, not on who he was.

It was a lesson he was still learning thanks to people like Nelson, Chip, and Alyssa. He grinned tightly. And, hell yes, even Kowalski. He really had been riding the rating much too hard, especially given he was the one who’d started the ball rolling by inviting him to dinner. He’d have to rectify that.

“I remember that too.” Propping his elbow on the arm of the couch, he gave a ragged exhale and bowed his forehead into his palm. Aside from Alyssa, Nelson and Chip were the two most important people in his life. Suddenly, all his anger and stubborn pride felt foolish. “You made your point, Kowalski,” he muttered.

**********

Harry had to agree.

For a time, the room fell into silence. He felt miserable for the mess he’d made. It wasn’t really his fault - - he was subject to orders too - - but he had enough clout he could have handled it differently. He could have put his foot down, demanding to test Lee in a less public forum. The younger man deserved that. At the very least he’d was owed an apology.

He suddenly realized it was the one thing still lacking. Something so simple, yet so critical. He’d talked to his young captain at length, rationalizing the situation, patiently trying to explain all the wherefores and whys, but he’d never once thought to say “I’m sorry.” Two simple words.

Of all the confounded, glaringly obvious, moronically stupid oversights! He felt like an idiot. Not the everyday garden-variety kind, but a certified-crown-fool-prince-of-idiots. It didn’t take four stars and multiple PhDs to understand common courtesy and decency, especially to a man you considered your son. So what if he was also a subordinate officer? Lee meant far more to him than that. 

Brilliant, Nelson!

“Lee. I’m sorry.” Why the hell hadn’t he said that before? Had rank made him impervious to courtesy? “I should have told you that immediately. I can’t change what happened, but I can wish I’d handled it differently.” He shifted slightly, angling to face Lee. “You deserved that. More than that. You always have, Washington be damned.”

“I’m sorry too,” Chip said. “I know I’ve told you that, Lee, but I really do mean it.”

Lee looked between the two of them, his expression unreadable. He was silent a moment, then with an exaggerated exhale, he shoved to his feet. “This is ridiculous,” he chided gently with an embarrassed laugh. “We’re not school kids. We’re adults. And sometimes adults have to do things they don’t like, even hurt people they care about. I guess . . .” He faltered, pacing a short distance from the couch as he laced a hand through his raven hair. Harry noticed the back, a little longer than usual, threatened to spring into curls. “All I really care about is that your opinion of me hasn’t changed and, if the same situation happened again, you’d give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You always had that,” Chip insisted, rising to his feet.

“He’s right.” Harry stood too. “Don’t shut us out, lad. We need to know nothing has changed.”

Lee hesitated only a moment, the cool distance in his eyes replaced by his usual expressiveness. Harry was surprised to realize how much he’d missed that openness. His captain’s remarkable eyes were naturally eloquent, relaying every nuance of his mood when his barriers were down. “Nothing’s changed, Sir.”

Lee extended his hand but, rather than shake, Harry tugged him forward into an embrace. “Next time you can test me,” he said gruffly, his voice rough with emotion. He held on, hugging the younger man close, unwillingly to release him too quickly. A moment later, he stepped backward, pleased to see a shy grin on Lee’s face. His heart crimped with affection. Damn, but it was amazing what that smile did to him.

“Lee?” Chip stood off to the side, stiff and awkward, his expression uncertain.

Lee grinned. “Hell, Morton, don’t be such a stone.” He wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulders, giving him a brotherly hug. When he stepped back his gaze shifted to Kowalski. “And don’t think this has anything to do with your speech, sailor.”

 

“No, Sir.” Kowalski shook his head quickly. He was on his feet, doing his best to look contrite. And then he grinned, unable to conceal an air of smugness. Or maybe it was relief. “Does this mean my head’s off the chopping block?”

Lee pursed his lips, openly studying him. “Maybe.” He glanced toward the other two men. “What do you think? Should I cut him some slack?”

“If you don’t, Ron will read me the riot act for my part in all of this,” Chip inserted.

“And he is your driver,” Harry reminded him.

“There is that,” Lee agreed. “I still need a ride home.”

“Time enough for that later.” Harry wasn’t ready to let the evening slip by. Not when he had his captain relaxed and friendly. He’d missed that side of Lee on the last cruise and jealously wanted it back. He knew Chip needed it too. After all, he was solely at fault for forcing the blond-haired man to turn on his friend. “You wanted dinner and a few beers, and there’s still plenty of time. I don’t think any of us have plans tonight.”

 

“Guess we do now.” Chip grinned. “How about Scrimshaw Jack’s?”

The agreement was made all the way around except for Kowalski who hedged. “Should I drop you there, Captain?” he asked uncertainly.

Lee raised a brow. “Didn’t I tell you that you were up to your neck in this whether you liked it or not?”

“Yes, Sir. But...”

“Then I guess that means you’re going with us.”

Harry could tell Kowalski wasn’t certain if he should be honored or horrified to be included in the company of three officers. In the end, he settled for pleased. “Yes, Sir!”

As they headed out the door, Harry drew the rating aside. “Good work tonight, Kowalski. You gave him back to us.”

Kowalski grinned. “Nah, Sir. I don’t think he really ever left.”

*****End*****

Other stories referenced in Damage Control:

Lee and Chip are trapped in Sick Bay in Masquerade

The legend of the golden broom coral is explained in All That Glitters

The reference to a prehistoric creature is from A Thousand Yesteryears

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