by Cliff Happy
“I think Doc over served me a bit on the painkillers, but otherwise I’m fine.” Kristen raised both of her forearms, turning them slightly to show him. She could see burn ointment glistening off her reddened flesh. But she was too doped up to notice the blisters on her left forearm. “See! Doc says it’s nothing?” She then lowered her arms and added, “Please don’t put me ashore.”
“Just rest, Lieutenant,” Brodie replied, again avoiding her plea.
“Is the boat okay?” she asked. “What about Darby?”
“You just worry about feeling better, Lieutenant,” he directed her. “Let the rest of us take care of the boat for a while.”
Kristen nodded, wishing she had a mirror so she might know what he was seeing. She was suddenly a bit self-conscious about how she might appear. “What about Darby?” she mumbled, wishing her lips and tongue would cooperate; she could barely form words.
“Doc says Seaman Darby is fine.” Brodie’s voice turned a bit hard, and she recognized the dangerous edge in it. “You just rest, now.”
“What will happen to him?” Kristen asked, recalling how scared Darby had looked standing in the Wolf’s Den as the fire in the galley grew. Brodie didn’t reply, but even in her drugged state she could imagine things not going well for the frightened seaman. “He was scared, Captain,” she offered in Darby’s defense.
“I would imagine he was,” Brodie allowed, eyeing her carefully. “Just as I’m certain you were when you entered the galley and saw the fire. Except whereas Darby ran…” he paused and struggled with his words for a moment, taking another deep, steadying breath. “You ran into the flames and pulled the Halon activation lever, saving the boat from anything more than superficial damage in the galley.”
Kristen was a bit uncomfortable hearing him describe it. He made it sound heroic, yet all she remembered was being terrified. “I was scared out of my wits,” she admitted. “It was all I could think to do.”
There was a long period of silence between them as he continued to study her face. He slowly reached across her and gently pulled a lock of hair from her face and placed it on the pillow. “I wish everyone reacted as well as you do when they’re scared out of their wits,” he informed her in a gentle, yet serious tone. He then answered her previous question about whether or not he was sending her ashore. “No, Lieutenant,” he concluded. “You aren’t going anywhere. You’re what I call ‘a keeper,’ and I think I’d better just hold on to you as long as I can.”
Kristen smiled, the Demerol relaxing her more than she would have preferred. “I like the sound of that,” she exhaled happily knowing she was staying on board. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Is there anything I can get you? Anything at all?”
Kristen felt herself fading as sleep crept up on her. She shook her head, trying to stay with him for a few more minutes. Her right hand again reached for his arm. Once more he gently placed it at her side. “Could you maybe see to it Gibbs brings me my own robe this time,” she asked. “Last time he brought me that really big one; it smelled terrible.”
His calm, cool captain’s demeanor dissolved. She’d never seen him laugh, but he was laughing now. A warm and heartfelt belly laugh.
“It was a little big,” Kristen admitted remembering how Gibbs and Reed had been able to nearly wrap it around her twice. “I told Gibbs I have one in my cabin…”
A warm smile lingered after the laughter faded, and she found herself smiling as well. “I’ll see to it, Lieutenant. Anything else?”
Kristen thought for a moment. She was once again looking at his arms. “Officers aren’t supposed to have tattoos,” she murmured groggily. The Demerol was now in total control, and she looked up at his face. She felt like she was already dreaming, so she could say or do anything without any recourse. But, she swallowed the words that were forming on her lips.
“Merry Christmas, Captain,” she said instead as her eyes closed.
“Merry Christmas, Lieutenant.”
Chapter Thirty
Army Headquarters, Republic of Korea, Seoul
Min-ji Rhee was at her desk early as usual. She’d already cleaned the coffee cups, prepared a fresh pot and was ready to pour as soon as her boss arrived at 7:55. She appreciated his punctuality. After all, he was a military man and it seemed only proper. She paused for a few moments to study her appearance in a small mirror she kept in her middle desk drawer. Her long black hair was neatly arranged, and her eye liner had been applied just right. She touched up her lipstick, using the passion red she felt best complimented her light, porcelain skin. Once certain her lipstick and makeup were just right, she put the mirror away and stood, running a smoothing hand over her white blouse and dark skirt. She walked over to the credenza in the corner of her small office where the coffee service was, and poured two cups of strong, black coffee for the general and his aide. She then stepped back to her desk and waited dutifully by the corner.
Precisely on time, the door opened and General Sung-ho Park entered, followed immediately by his aide, Captain Ji-hoon Kim. “Good morning, General, I trust you had a pleasant evening,” she greeted him with a warm smile.
The general, her boss, smiled at her and gratefully accepted the cup of fresh coffee. “Late meetings and more trouble along the DMZ,” he informed her, “seldom make for a good rest.”
Rhee was certainly aware of recent border trouble along the DMZ. The DPRK’s usual saber rattling was growing ominous and there had been a brief, but fierce border skirmish between North and South Korean border units the previous day. “No, General, I don’t imagine it does. She handed the second cup of coffee to the general’s aide with a knowing smile. “Good morning, Captain. I hope you slept well.”
The general was already heading for his desk and didn’t notice the slight smile that crossed his aide’s face as he looked at Rhee. “Perfectly,” he answered in understanding. They had been lovers for three months, but she wasn’t certain if the general had discerned this yet. Rhee and Kim had tried to keep their relationship under wraps, but she wasn’t certain they’d managed it. But every time Kim looked at her, she just melted. The general disappeared into his office and Kim paused long enough to steal a kiss. Rhee wiped the lipstick from his lips remembering their previous night together.
“I have to go to work,” he whispered.
She nodded in understanding, wishing they didn’t have to conceal their relationship. She returned to her desk and he took a seat at his desk across from her where he went to work checking the general’s correspondence. As the general’s aide, he attended every meeting, he read every briefing binder, and he delivered the classified messages to the general. Kim literally knew everything the general knew.
Rhee focused on her own work, trying hard not to get distracted too much by the close proximity of her lover. Less than three hours earlier, she’d awakened in his arms, and she was already looking forward to the evening ahead of them. She thought about her plans for that night, letting her thoughts drift from her work. She heard Kim’s desk phone ring, and saw that it was an outside, unsecure line. She thought nothing of it. He received hundreds of calls a day. She refocused her attention on her work, hardly noticing that other than answering the phone, Kim said nothing to the caller before hanging up after only a few seconds on the line.
She looked up smiling to see an odd expression on his face. The color had drained from his face and he appeared to be in shock. Her first thought was that the DPRK had launched an all-out attack across the border but dismissed the thought a moment later. From their headquarters building in Seoul, they would have been able to hear the DPRK’s artillery fire, plus the call had come on an unsecure line.
“Kim?” she asked, wondering what had happened. He didn’t even look up at her, instead he stared blankly at the receiver in his hand. “Kim, what is it?” she asked. “What happened?”
Slowly, his warm, beautifully alluring eyes looked up at her, and she saw the shock plainly on his face. But he didn’t speak.
“Kim?” she asked again, rising slightly from her desk, “you’re scaring me.”
As if in slow motion, he carefully replaced the telephone receiver on its cradle. His hands were literally trembling as he completed this simple task and Rhee, now very worried, came out from around her desk and approached him as he stood on uncertain legs. “Kim, what is it?”
Again he looked at her. He appeared to try and speak, but no words came forth. She took a step closer as he stepped out from around his desk, still moving in slow motion. She intercepted him, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. As if just noticing her, he stopped and looked down at her small hand. Without words, he reached over and removed her hand and then again looked at her. He reached up and caressed her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, his voice cracking with emotion.
Rhee was now more than a little concerned. She’d never seen him like this. For a brief moment, she thought he might have received word of a deceased family member, but he had no living family. He’d been raised in a state orphanage. In fact, when she thought about it, other than her, he had no real close friends. “What happened?” she pleaded.
He ignored her question and stepped past her and toward the general’s private office. As he did this, his hands unconsciously straightened his uniform. He reached the door, and Rhee watched as he knocked before entering. She stood on shaky legs, trying to figure out what calamity had befallen her lover and their nation. Surely it had to have something to do with the DPRK. The irrational government to the North was always stirring up trouble.
The loud popping sound from the general’s office caused her to start. The sound was followed a moment later by several more just like it. She’d heard similar sounds before, and her mind told her what they were. But just why a pistol was being fired inside the general’s private office was beyond her, and she didn’t immediately make the connection. When she did, she felt a cold, deathly hand grip her heart as fear overcame her. With five quick steps she rushed to the door and threw it open to reveal what had happened.
She stood in the threshold in disbelief. General Sung-ho Park was still in his broad back leather chair, but he was slumped back in it, blood was pouring from a bullet hole in his head, and there were more bloody holes in his uniform. Standing in front of the desk, the smoking pistol still in his hand, was Kim.
In shock, Rhee couldn’t form words. There had to be some reasonable explanation. There just had to be. She was having a nightmare. She was… she was… Rhee looked at her lover, the man she thought she knew, as he turned to face her. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. They briefly made eye contact. She no longer recognized him. His eyes were glassy and distant, as if looking far away.
“Long live the Leader,” he said in a clear, distinct voice, raised the pistol to his temple, and pulled the trigger.
Chapter Thirty One
Female Officer Quarters, USS Seawolf
Kristen gingerly moved her arms. The burns were covered in an antiseptic ointment that smelled like the worst kind of fish oil. But, in accordance with Doc Reed’s instructions, she kept it on at all times. She’d gotten out of sickbay after two days of close observation but was restricted to limited duty. So she had nothing to do, which was driving her nuts.
She was braiding her hair, a task she normally found mentally therapeutic. But as she worked, she was forced to confront the burns on her face. Reed had been right, it was like a bad sunburn, but looked awful. Kristen had never been a vain person. As a teenager, when she’d been all arms and legs and no boy would look at her twice, this had come in handy. But now, as she looked at her burnt skin, she found herself wishing she might be able to hide in her cabin until it went away.
“Knock, knock,” she heard Terry Hall’s voice behind her.
She adjusted her position in front of the mirror and saw him standing behind her.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding from me,” he commented as he leaned against the bulkhead, looking quite smug, and very handsome. He had the same devil-may-care smile she’d first seen when they’d met nearly a month earlier. His smile was an unusual sight on the Seawolf as of late. The incessant drills and the growing anxiety prevailing on board about what they might be getting into had soured nearly everyone’s mood.
“Not now, Terry,” she told him. “I’m not in the mood.” She’d been fending off his advances since they’d left port, but he seemed to have a hard time with the word “no.”
“What?” he asked innocently. “I just heard you were out of sickbay, and I wanted to stop by and cheer you up.”
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” she reminded him and pointed toward a sign by the curtain used as a door to separate her small space from the rest of the Data Processing Equipment Room. The sign declared her space a restricted area and off limits to all male personnel.
Terry ignored her warning. “I just thought you might want to join me in the wardroom for a movie with some of the others tonight?”
In the small mirror, Kristen could see him admiring her backside.
“Stop staring at my ass, Terry,” she told him as she worked to finish her braids.
Although still a Nub by all standards, Kristen was no longer treated like one by her fellow officers. Unlike Martin who needed constant prompting to do anything, they realized she didn’t need to be pushed to study and prepare for her qualifications. Kristen had impressed all of them with her puritanical work ethic, and she was steadily moving through her thick qualifications book getting page after page signed off, and there was now a quiet betting pool in the wardroom between a few of the officers regarding how fast she might complete the entire qualification process. So, being invited to movie night in the wardroom was not unexpected, but she was well aware that the roguishly good-looking smile on Terry’s face disguised a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Instead of taking his eyes off her, he just flashed another playful smile. “Come on, Kris,” he began, calling her a name she’d told him more than once she didn’t like. “Would you deny a blind man the right to a view?”
“I told you, I don’t like that name,” she reminded him.
“All right, Kristen,” he corrected himself, stressing her name this time. “Would you like to go to the movie tonight?”
“What is it?” she asked. He was a bit of a pain in the neck at times, but she knew he was relatively harmless.
“K-19 Widowmaker,” he responded, apparently encouraged by her not having turned him down cold as she had on every other opportunity he’d taken to hit on her.
She stared at him as if he had to be joking. “You’re not serious are you?”
“What?” he asked as he stepped beyond the curtain, allowing it to close behind him.
Kristen was still securing her hair and noticed him step in. “First of all, in case you haven’t noticed, we happen to be on board a nuclear submarine racing at thirty knots across the Pacific into some sort of mess that has everyone on edge. What makes you think I would be interested in watching a movie about a sub disaster?” she pointed out. “Secondly,” she said and motioned toward the curtain, “I’ll thank you to get your butt out of my cabin.”
Terry raised his hands innocently. “Hey relax,” he said soothingly, his voice like honey, “I’m just trying to loosen things up a bit,” he offered and then playfully flexed his fingers. “I mean, if I ever saw anyone who needed a shoulder rub it would be you.” He interlaced his fingers, cracked his knuckles, and then glanced at her bunk. “Hey, look at that, a massage table right here.” He patted her mattress. “Why don’t you climb aboard and let the master loosen you up a bit?”
Kristen shook her head incredulously as she finished the French braid and secured it with a couple of pins. “Does crap like that normally work for you?” she asked skeptically.
Terry’s smile didn’t fade as he leaned against her coffin rack. “More often than you might believe, actually.”
He was handsome, devilishly so, and given
a different time and a different place she might have even considered it, but Kristen returned her mirror to her locker and then turned back to him. “Well not this time, Ace,” she motioned toward the curtain. “Now like I said, please leave.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’m sure it’s venereal.”
“Ouch,” he groaned, gripping his heart as if wounded.
But before he could say more, the 1MC came to life with an announcement. “All hands, stand by for the captain.”
They each paused and cocked an ear toward the speaker on the bulkhead.
Terry glanced at Kristen curiously, a few feet from her. “Something’s happened.”
She knew he was right. They’d been receiving top-secret messages for the captain daily, but she still didn’t know just what was going on. She then heard Brodie’s voice. Calm. Steady. Confident. “Good evening, shipmates. I’m sure you’re all wondering why we’re in such a hurry to get across the Pacific, and I apologize for having kept all of you in the dark for so long.
“Thirty minutes ago, we received word from the National Command Authority that North Korea has mobilized their armed forces and is massing along the border with South Korea. In response to this provocation toward our ally, the President has raised the defensive condition level on the Korean Peninsula and surrounding seas to Defcon-3. We have been ordered into the Sea of Japan after rendezvousing with the Frank Cable tomorrow.”
There was a few seconds pause during which Kristen would have sworn she heard several curses reverberating through the ship at the unpleasant news.
“I know this is hardly how any of us hoped to be spending the holidays, but I’m confident each of you will continue to perform your duties with the cool professionalism that has sustained you this far. I would like all department heads and off duty officers to assemble in the wardroom immediately. That is all.”
Kristen had known North Korea was a likely destination, but just what was waiting for them on the Frank Cable that was so important she was now both nervous and anxious to find out.