Seawolf Mask of Command (47 page)

Once she was certain the drones were okay, Kristen returned to her cabin. She’d missed her last rest period and didn’t know when she might get another chance, especially if anything went wrong now that they were in North Korean waters. The entire submarine was operating with only the red overhead lights on, helping to remind everyone about the importance of keeping quiet. Wherever she looked, men were talking in brief whispers and going out of their way to carefully close every door as quietly as possible.

Kristen was just making it back to her cabin, when she saw Brodie walking down the passageway toward her. He looked to be touring the ship, and she was reminded of the old ship’s captain’s tradition of touring his vessel before a battle. She stepped aside, making room for him to pass in the narrow passageway.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” she whispered as he noticed her and gave her a pleasant nod in recognition.

Brodie paused in front of her in the darkened passageway. “Heading for the rack, Lieutenant?” he asked with a whisper.

“Yes, sir,” she answered. He looked like he could use a few hours himself. But she knew it would be foolish to suggest it. His ship was going into harm’s way, and she doubted she could sleep if their roles were reversed.

“Do you have any idea what Fitzgerald might want to talk to me about?” he whispered to her, obviously knowing something had happened between the two of them.

“It was nothing, sir.” she assured him. There was no point in trying to lie to him. He knew everything that occurred on board. Plus, he’d already shown his ability to read her like a book. “I didn’t see any reason to trouble you.”

“What happened?”

“I took your advice,”

“Advice?” he asked, apparently not remembering what he’d said to her.

“I used my knee,” she whispered.

He studied her face with a curious expression, and then realization hit him. He lowered his head as he tried to suppress a chuckle.

“What?” she asked, suppressing her own chuckle as she watched him trying not to laugh. “You told me to knee him if he…”

He raised a hand to stop her as he struggled to avoid laughing out loud. But his shoulders were trembling with the effort to control himself. He placed a hand on the bulkhead beside her to steady himself and then looked up at her with a broad, wonderful smile on his face. “That’s my girl,” he whispered still trying not to laugh. “I hope it was a good one.”

She couldn’t resist a slight chuckle. “Oh, yes,” she assured him. “I got him good,” she admitted and pointed toward the deck where Fitzgerald had collapsed. “He hit the deck right there and vomited.”

Brodie had to lower his head again, and she thought he might burst out laughing after all.

“Shh,” she whispered trying not to laugh herself. He was literally trembling with suppressed laughter. Thoughtlessly, she placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He looked up at her, and she saw tears of suppressed laughter streaming down his cheeks. “Damn, Kris,” he said as he wiped his eyes. “I wish I could have seen that.”

“Well, I doubt he’ll be back for seconds anytime soon. But if he does, I’ll see if I can delay him a few moments so you can be around,” she offered and suppressed a giggle.

For a brief moment, Kristen forgot all about why they were there and what lay ahead of them. She looked at him. Their eyes met and both stopped laughing. Kristen felt her lips and mouth go dry. She removed her hand from his shoulder. Brodie’s eyes searched hers for several moments and—for the briefest of seconds—she had the frightening thought that he would kiss her.

The thought both terrified her and intrigued her at the same time.

Her right hand rose up slightly as the impulse to run her hand through his hair struck her. She’d never had such a strong desire come over her for anyone. But before her hand had moved more than a few inches, she forced it back down to her side and gripped her trouser seam to prevent the errant hand from straying again.Kristen was aware of his every movement. His scent, his breath, even his heartbeats were known to her as they stood, just inches apart, in the dark passageway.

But then the spell was broken. He stood straight, removing his hand from where it had been resting against the bulkhead. The boyish face that had, for a few brief seconds, looked worry free was covered again by the stoic mask of command he always wore when about ship.

“Get some rest, Lieutenant,” he whispered softly.

She suddenly realized that, from him, she preferred “Kris.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

Female Officer Quarters, USS Seawolf

K
risten couldn’t sleep. The combination of finally knowing their mission, the dangers involved, the importance of the LMRS drones working perfectly, and what she’d felt in the passageway with Brodie made sleep impossible. For over an hour, she tossed and turned before finally giving up and deciding to go over the drones again. She’d already checked them several times but thought once more couldn’t hurt.

On her way to the torpedo room, she stopped by the sonar shack before heading down to the torpedo room and learned they were currently slipping between a covey of North Korean patrol boats and a diesel electric submarine just a few miles away.

“Hairy,” Senior Chief Miller replied as he took a drag on a cigarette despite regulations prohibiting it. She noticed several other sonarmen smoking as well. The tension in the shack was oppressive.

She left them to their work, not wanting to disturb them at such a critical moment. It would be her turn in sonar in a few hours and before then she wanted to complete a final check of the drones.

The torpedo room was quiet.

She climbed over some gear and maneuvered around several slumbering SEALs and went to work. The drones came with a test pack that was used to run a complete diagnostic check of their systems. Kristen hooked the first drone up and then sat back and waited for the results.

“What are you doing down here again?” Cheng asked as he appeared between two racks of torpedoes.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she replied with a shrug of a shoulder. “What are you doing up?”

“The same,” he answered as he came over and took a seat on a shipping box next to her. “What are you up to?”

“I thought, since I was up, I might as well check the drones again,” she explained. “I would hate to think I missed something.”

“Thanks,” he said appreciatively.

“No problem.” She understood how important the two drones working properly must mean to Cheng. The idea of just being in the mini submarine was enough to cause Kristen to break out in hives, let alone trying to sneak it through a minefield.

The test pack chirped, signaling that it was complete with the diagnostic. Kristen checked the results. Satisfied, she hooked the test pack up to the second drone then resumed her previous seat on a shipping crate.

“So,” Cheng began, apparently wanting to talk. “You’re the woman who wanted to be on a submarine?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” she answered with a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

“What is it they say about being careful what you wish for?” he smiled at her.

“What about you?” she asked. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t have second thoughts sometimes?”

“Who me?” He puffed up slightly as if such a thought was an impossibility. But his expression made it clear that even SEALs could feel fear. “Never!” After a few seconds he shook his head as he looked around the torpedo room. “I don’t know how you bubbleheads do it,” he offered. “I’m going crazy being in this tin can after only three days.”

“It’s not so bad,” she argued. “You guys are the nutcases.”

“I think the words you’re searching for are ‘elite fighting machines,’ not nutcases,” he replied with a playful grin.

She shook her head. “I just don’t see how you do it,” she said honestly. “I mean if someone told me I was going to be sneaking into North Korea, I think I would shrivel up and die.”

He shrugged. “It’s just a job.”

“Bullshit,” she answered.

The test pack chirped again, and Kristen stood up and checked the results. “Hmm,” she murmured thoughtfully.

“What?”

“An error message came up,” she replied as she scratched her chin thoughtfully.

“What kind of error?”

“An impossible error,” she replied and checked the cables connecting the test pack to the second drone. Once she’d checked the cables, she ran the diagnostic check again.

“Is everything okay?” he asked as he stood beside her and looked at the readout. Kristen felt him brush up against her slightly, but chose to ignore it.

“Probably just a loose test capable,” she answered and sat back down.

“So,” he said resuming their conversation. “What’s it like being the only woman on a submarine?”

Kristen thought about it for a moment. An image of her and Brodie alone in the passageway briefly flashed through her mind. She pushed the unsettling memory aside. “It’s just a job,” she replied, using his own glib line. “So, how does one become a SEAL?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Most of the guys weren’t happy with their original jobs in the Navy,” he explained as he motioned around the torpedo room at his men. “You know, they joined the Navy for an adventure, but wound up chipping paint on some rust bucket frigate and decided they wanted more.”

“Most of your guys didn’t join the Navy intent on being SEALs?” she asked looking to pass the time.

“Hardly any,” he admitted. “I’ve got former cooks, bakers, boatswain’s mates, and jet mechanics… just about everything.”

The test pack chirped again. Once more, Kristen stood up to check it.

The same error message was flashing.

“That’s not possible,” she whispered.

“What?”

“It’s saying there’s no internal memory,” she replied. “But we just programmed the internal memory yesterday. Everything was working perfectly.” Kristen opened a tool box, grabbed a screwdriver, and slid down underneath the drone. Cheng squatted down beside her and started handing her tools as she asked for them. Fifteen minutes later, Kristen slid back out from under the drone.

“What’s wrong?” Cheng asked her innocently.

Kristen sat up, not certain exactly what to say. She looked at Cheng, wondering just how convenient it was that he’d been awake when she’d come down to inspect the drones. She noticed a wicked looking knife strapped to his lower left trouser leg. He also carried a pistol on his belt. The thought that she might be able to overpower him never crossed her mind.

“Uh, nothing,” she replied, trying to sound confused instead of scared.

“If it’s nothing, then why did the test pack say something different?” he asked.

Kristen stood up and looked around the area for a few seconds, while at the same time backing away from him. She then saw a small box and picked it up as she motioned back toward the ladder leading out of the torpedo room. “I need to go check something in a manual,” she lied and took another step backward.

Cheng looked at her questioningly but didn’t try to stop her. Kristen climbed up the ladder and, once clear of the torpedo room, headed directly for the control room. A few seconds later, she entered.

Brodie was standing by the tracking parties, and she could see sweat on nearly every brow. The XO and Ryan Walcott were leaning over the navigation tables, and COB looked like he was about to have kittens.

“What’s happening, COB?” she whispered.

“We’ve got a
Tral
class corvette pinging on active sonar less than three thousand yards off the port quarter,” he whispered. “What’re you doing here?”

The
Tral
class corvettes were the most capable anti-submarine vessels in the North Korean Navy. They were no match for the
Seawolf
in a straight up fight, but Kristen knew their rules of engagement prevented Brodie from firing at the
Tral
while the
Seawolf
was still in North Korean waters.

“I need to speak to the captain,” she whispered.

“Not now, Missy,” COB told her flatly.

“COB, it’s important,” she insisted.

“More important than a
Tral
pinging our hull?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” she replied earnestly.

COB hesitated for a few seconds. “All right, I hope you know what you’re doing, Lieutenant,” he warned her.

She watched as COB approached the captain. They spoke briefly, and Brodie looked toward her sharply.

Kristen, not wanting to make a scene, motioned for him to come over to where she was standing in the passageway just outside of the control room. She could see the annoyance on his face. But, he stepped away from the tracking parties and approached her, COB in tow.

“This had better be good, Lieutenant,” he warned in a whisper.

Kristen glanced at COB. “Sir, can I speak to you in private?”

Brodie’s eyes narrowed. He was in no mood for games. “Give us a second, would you, Spike?”

Once alone, Kristen lowered her voice and held out a computer chip for him to see.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a computer guidance chip for an LMRS drone, Captain,” she whispered.

“What’s it doing in your hand instead of in a drone?” he asked suspiciously.