by Cliff Happy
“What’s this?” she asked and glanced in the bag. Inside was a complete set of toiletries, including a package of underwear, a new sports bra, and a towel. “Where did you get all of this stuff?” she asked as he led her up to officers’ country.
He ignored her question and instead, motioned toward the door leading to the officers’ head. “I cleaned the head, so it should be okay,” he told her as he looked around to make certain they weren’t being watched.
Kristen knew she was missing something, but her mind was still too numb to really think about it. She stumbled into the small head she shared with thirteen fellow officers and turned on the single shower. She opened the shopping bag and removed a bath towel and wash cloth. Both were brand new and still had the tags on them. She then removed the body wash and shampoo. They weren’t her brand but were more than adequate. She glanced at the underwear and saw Gibbs had guessed her size perfectly. There was also a comb, a hairbrush, and a small blow dryer.
The shower helped wake her, reviving her sagging energy levels and refreshing her somewhat, but she felt the pressing need to hurry. There was still much to do. She dressed quickly, relishing the feel of clean clothes for the first time in three days.
Or was it four?
She’d lost track of time. Normally she liked to keep her hair in an intricate French braid, one of the few idiosyncrasies she clung to from her childhood. But that normally took thirty minutes, and she didn’t want to spend time on it. So after drying it out, she tied it into a tight bun that would have to do, collected her belongings, and stepped back into the passageway where Gibbs waited nervously.
“I owe you, Mister Gibbs,” she told him as she closed the door behind her. “I can’t thank you enough for this. I feel brand new.”
“That’s thanks enough, ma’am,” he assured her. “But let’s keep this between us, okay?”
Kristen had no idea why he was being so secretive now that they were away from the crew berthing, but she didn’t argue. “All right,” she replied. “How much did all this cost?”
Gibbs looked at her blankly.
“How much do I owe you?” She headed toward the wardroom, anxious to get back to work.
“Uh…” he mumbled. “I’m not sure,” he stammered while following her back to the wardroom.
“Well, whatever it is, just let me know,” she assured him. “Whatever the cost, I’m good for it ten times over.”
“That’s okay, ma’am,” he replied. “I hope everything fits okay.”
“Perfect,” she admitted as they reached the wardroom. “How did you guess my size?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
Something wasn’t ringing true about what had happened, and Kristen got the feeling Gibbs was hiding something. But she didn’t have time to waste trying to figure it out. She gathered her checklists and raced down to the auxiliary machinery space where the diesel engine was located. She climbed down the steep ladder leading into the cramped compartment and was surprised to find, waiting in the space, was COB.
“Good morning, Missy,” he greeted her politely.
“Good morning, COB,” she answered. “Is everything all right?” she asked, glancing around.
As Chief of the Boat, COB could go virtually anywhere on board unquestioned. But it was an odd place to find him at such an early hour. He didn’t appear to be inspecting anything nor were there any other personnel visible for him to be supervising. She briefly thought he might have dragged some malcontent down into the space for some hands-on counseling in private. But she didn’t see anyone else. He was just waiting.
“Everything’s just fine, Missy,” he answered. “What brings you down here this fine morning?”
“I have my engineering exam in a few hours and need to get familiarized with the space,” she admitted. “I’m afraid I fell asleep last night and haven’t had a chance to get down here.”
He replied with a simple nod, “Well, the diesel is sure to be on your exam.” He patted the massive motor with his right hand. “Would you like some help?”
It was a question Kristen wasn’t accustomed to hearing from anyone anymore. Over the last few years the number of people she felt she could trust had diminished to just one. Although, after the previous evening, that list might have grown to include Gibbs. What COB was playing at, Kristen couldn’t guess, but he probably knew the diesel better than the men who would test her on it. She couldn’t turn down such an offer. “I would appreciate that very much, COB,” she admitted. “But what brings you down here anyway?”
He gave her a coy smile. “Now, Missy, since when do we Chiefs have to answer such questions from you fresh young officers?”
Kristen was still a little punch drunk from the last ninety-six hours, but she was sharp enough to know this was no coincidence. COB was here because he knew she would be. This was confirmed less than three minutes later when she heard a gruff voice coming from the ladder way. “Has that Lassie shown up yet, Matt?”
Kristen recognized Chief O’Rourke’s Irish lilt. “I’m right here, Senior Chief,” she called up as the Irishman climbed down. His coveralls—unlike COB’s—were filthy from working all night.
The redheaded chief paused when he reached the base of the ladder and took a moment to light a cigarette. Smoking was forbidden here, but she decided against pointing this regulation out to the salty Chief.
“All right, let’s get to work. We don’t have much time,” O’Rourke said without offering any explanation.
Kristen had seen O’Rourke around engineering whenever she’d been in the space. But they’d seldom had a reason to talk, and she assumed he simply didn’t like her. Of course, he hardly spoke to any of the officers, and he treated Ensign Martin as if the young officer was a stain on the bulkhead. What was more, O’Rourke began and ended nearly every sentence he spoke with profanity. But he also knew his business, and for the next two hours she kept her mouth shut and her eyes and ears open as the two seasoned submariners, inexplicably, tutored her on the diesel engine.
Kristen returned to the wardroom just ten minutes before the morning meeting. She’d had a full two hours to spend studying the diesel, and although it was hardly enough to make her feel confident about this portion of the exam, she now had at least some inkling of what was in the space and where everything was located. Everyone had already arrived except for Martin, who was—as usual—cutting it close, and the captain who would arrive at 0830. As she entered, she was greeted with several sympathetic looks, except for Ski who looked as grumpy as ever.
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Graves greeted her from where he sat reading the message board and sipping coffee. “Today’s the big day, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed, sir,” she agreed and slipped behind several of her fellow officers and found her seat. No sooner had she sat down, than Gibbs swept in with a tray of food for her and a fresh pot of tea.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he said politely. “You’d best eat quickly; the captain will be here in nine minutes.”
Kristen’s stomach was twisted in anxious knots. She felt if she just had another forty-eight hours she might be ready, but one look at Ski was enough of a reminder that she would receive no extension from him. She gulped down two pieces of dry wheat toast, but stayed away from her eggs. She washed the toast down with some strong tea, managing to get it done in just a couple of minutes.
“Good luck today,” Terry offered as he sat down. He sounded sincere, even though he’d done nothing to help her over the past few days.
“Thanks, Terry.”
Several of her fellow officers followed Terry’s lead and wished her luck, a few even seemed to mean it. Martin arrived just a few seconds before the meeting would begin. He was just taking a seat when Brodie entered. As usual everyone came to their feet only to have him wave them back down.
Kristen was going over countless mental checklists in her head and hardly paid attention as the meeting began. Gibbs offered Brodie his usual coffee, but
she noticed there was none of the usual playful banter between them. Plus, Brodie skipped the usual morning round of chit-chat with his officers and got right down to business. He went down his usual checklists, hammering each of the department heads hard. This was certainly different than usual. His voice was sharper, his tone more urgent. She thought he looked a bit more weathered than usual. Not that she could spare mental capacity for any analysis of her captain at the moment, she needed to keep her focus, and disciplined her well-ordered mind to the real task at hand. A knock at the door drew her attention from thoughts of condensers, drive shafts, emergency generators….
Two lieutenant commanders stepped in. They both wore coveralls, and without a word said, she knew who they were. The engineering exam was administered by a team of officers. Each had to be a qualified engineering officer, and these two men were part of the group who would test her. She stiffened slightly as they greeted Brodie. She recognized one as an officer who’d spoken against her petition to serve on a submarine before Congress. His name was Crocker, and he was considered an up-and-comer in the submarine service.
Kristen watched as they greeted Brodie with near reverence. She then saw Crocker and Ski exchange greetings. The two men clearly knew one another well. Kristen felt the deck slowly being stacked against her. There should be three officers on her exam team, and she’d silently prayed that Ski wouldn’t be one of them. He clearly had it in for her, and she didn’t trust him to give her a fair test. But as the meeting continued, no other officers arrived to flesh out the examination board.
Brodie finished the meeting in record time and dismissed his officers to return to duty. But before leaving, the captain paused for a moment and addressed Ski, “We were hoping for a third officer from the squadron to assist with the examination today, Ski.”
“I can pick up the slack, Skipper,” Ski replied easily and glanced down at Kristen. “You don’t have a problem with me serving on your exam board do you, Lieutenant?”
You’re damn right I do!
“No, of course not, sir.”
Brodie looked toward her, showing absolutely no hint of concern that she might have been set up to fail. “Good luck today, Lieutenant Whitaker.” Was he being sincere? She couldn’t tell. His true feelings were hidden behind a stern mask of command.
“Thank you, Captain,” she answered, wondering just how much he knew about what was happening. He had to realize she stood a poor chance at best of passing and could have stopped the examination from ever starting. According to those men who she’d met over the previous few days, they all agreed that Brodie knew everything happening on board. But if he knew Ski had goaded her into accepting his challenge, he gave no hint of it.
Brodie departed and Graves paused long enough to shoot her a reassuring wink. “Give’em hell, Lieutenant.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Let’s hope that’ll be enough, Lieutenant,” Ski responded with the same fake sincerity he’d used around her before.
The XO departed, and Ski introduced the other two officers to her.
“Hello again, Lieutenant,” Crocker greeted. She couldn’t read his expression, but she knew he was no friend. “I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon.” His testimony in front of Congress had been some of the most damning during her hearings. He was a seasoned submarine officer, decorated for valor during an operation as a lieutenant, and his words had nearly ended her petition.
Kristen shook his offered hand out of politeness. “Good morning, sir,” she said, forcing civility into her voice. “Welcome to the Seawolf.”
Chapter Ten
Main Engineering, USS Seawolf
The examination began with a timed written portion which Kristen flew through. She’d always been good at written examinations. Her phenomenal memory allowed her to draw upon a vast library of knowledge. Following the written test however, was the practical examination which took the rest of the morning and all afternoon.
Academic achievement had always been a strength and source of pride for Kristen. She was accustomed to getting high marks on anything she applied herself to. It didn’t always come easy, but if given a chance, she could usually work hard enough to outdo virtually anyone else. But this was different. These three men could, and did, ask her just about anything regarding the various machine spaces. She had to demonstrate emergency procedures for battle damage, flooding, electrical failures, and a host of other near disasters.
They started with the reactor which was her strength, and she felt she breezed through this part with ease. This was important because the reactor portion was the most critical. If she failed any of it, she would fail the entire exam. But, following the reactor, she moved into territory she’d just started learning. The reduction gears, the steam turbines, the air-handling equipment, carbon-dioxide scrubbers… the list felt endless. And there was no rest. Everything was timed. No sooner did she complete one task, than she was forced to face a new problem. Not once did she get a break or any feedback on how she was doing from the three men testing her.
Ski stayed smug, never missing a chance to slip in an insult, often veiled in a half-hearted compliment. The only bright spot of the day was an occasional smile, or at least sympathetic look from one of the seamen on board who she’d rubbed elbows with over the last few days while struggling to get ready. Twice she caught a glimpse of the XO watching the examination, and on several occasions she saw O’Rourke or COB observing quietly from the side. Finally, just before five in the afternoon, the examination ended.
“The examination board will meet with the captain and go over our results,” Ski informed her politely. She was too tired to care that he was being disingenuous. If he could fail her, he would. “Once the captain has been briefed, he’ll inform you of the results.”
Kristen withdrew to the crew’s mess deck, known as the Wolf’s Den, where Gibbs brought her some tea and food. But she wasn’t hungry. She took a seat in one of the booths, ignoring the stares of several of the enlisted men who weren’t accustomed to officers “hanging out” in the crew’s mess. She leaned back against the bulkhead and ran the examination through her head trying to determine just how badly she’d done. But it was all a blur. She was too exhausted to think straight. The last five days had been the most arduous of her life, and she simply wanted a hot shower and a warm bed for a few hours. As far as the exam?
Ski wouldn’t let her pass if he could stop it. What was worse was that during the exam, Ski had let it slip that Brodie had been behind her taking the exam in the first place, which meant her own captain probably didn’t want her to pass. The only conclusion she could draw was that once more she was all alone.
She could trust no one.
Kristen opened her eyes and saw that the men who’d been in the Wolf’s Den when she’d entered were now gone. Now seated in a corner booth, sipping coffee and talking softly, were COB and O’Rourke. Gibbs was there as well, standing in the galley and watching her with concern.
Maybe not totally alone.
Kristen took a sip of tea and closed her eyes again, thinking of the exam. She ran it through her mind once more, trying to give herself an honest assessment. She’d hardly been perfect, but she’d done well. She blown the written portion away, but had struggled on a few of the systems during the practical exam.
“Miss Whitaker?” Gibbs said softly, getting her attention.
Kristen opened her eyes again, wishing she’d had just a few more hours to prepare. Gibbs was standing by her table. The look on his face didn’t appear hopeful. “Yes, Mister Gibbs?”
He motioned toward the wardroom. “The captain is ready for you, Miss.”
Kristen stood, feeling a deep sense of foreboding. The look on Gibbs’ face told her all she needed to know. She just had to hold it together and accept the verdict. She glanced over at COB and O’Rourke. They were watching her. The fact these three men had tried to help her she wouldn’t forget, but there were no words she could think of at the mom
ent to express her gratitude. She patted Gibbs on the arm and offered him a wan smile. “It’s okay, Mister Gibbs. We did our best.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kristen walked up the passageway to the wardroom door where she paused for a brief moment to calm herself before knocking.
“Enter,” came the captain’s curt reply from inside.
Kristen stepped in, determined not to let them see her show any hint of remorse, anger, or sadness. She would be an emotional rock. They were the enemy. She would give them nothing.
The captain had been at the squadron headquarters for most of the day, and she noticed that for the commodore he’d bothered to wear his ribbons. The rack of awards was impressive to say the least. His expression was impassive, with no hint what he might be thinking. But she thought his eyes, normally sharp and filled with life, looked tired and a little dark.
The XO was dressed in coveralls and was seated straight back in his chair with a foul scowl on his face. He was resting his forearms on the table, his fingers intertwined. Ski was in his usual chair with a satisfied grin on his face, which verified what Kristen already suspected. Crocker met her gaze and gave her a pleasant nod of greeting.
Between Crocker and Ski, she knew she hadn’t stood a chance.
“You wished to see me, Captain?” Kristen said as she came to attention inside the door.
Brodie motioned to the empty chair beside the XO. “Have a seat, Lieutenant.”
Kristen did as ordered, gripping the Naugahyde-covered arms of the chair with her hands. She didn’t look at Ski, fearing she might snap if she had to see his arrogant face any more this evening.
“As I’m sure you know,” Brodie began, his eyes looking down at a thick report laid out before him. “The qualification process is long and exhaustive. The first step, the engineering-officer-of-the-watch exam, is perhaps the most difficult in the service, and it’s quite common for officers to take the test several times.”
Kristen had already heard enough. The bastard had set this all up, she was certain of it. As the captain, nothing happened on board without his approval. Had the XO been in on it, too? She liked to think not, but past experience had taught her she could count on no allies in this room. They were all her enemy until she could be certain otherwise. Her mind was running away with paranoid conspiracy theories, and she dismissed these useless thoughts and refocused on the captain, waiting for him to tell her to pack her gear and hit the road.