Seawolf End Game

by Cliff Happy

  “Captain Brodie,” Vice Admiral Malone interrupted. “We haven’t time to simply wait for the lieutenant to remember what happened six months from now.”

  Kristen willed Brodie to be quiet. He was in enough trouble already, and she didn’t want to be the cause of any more for him.

  “She does remember,” Brodie told them flatly and then looked at Kristen. As he looked at her, his eyes soften slightly. “She remembers everything.” There was a slight pause as they looked at one another. “Don’t you, Kris?” he asked using the name for only the third time. She’d never liked it before when people shortened her name, but it sounded right coming from him.

  “I’m trying.”

  The assembled group of men stared at Brodie as he, unimpressed by the mass of naval and civilian officials sent to grill him and his officers, stood calmly and turned to the swinging door leading to the galley.

  “Where are you going, Captain?” Admiral Malone demanded.

  “I’m going to help her remember, Admiral,” Brodie replied simply and stepped through the swinging door and disappeared. Beagler cringed a bit, and Kristen could almost feel Malone losing his patience. Beagler knew Brodie, so Kristen assumed he was familiar with the captain’s eccentricities. But Malone just assumed Brodie was being uncooperative.

  With Brodie gone, all of the eyes were again on her. She looked back at them, feeling as if she were back before Congress during the hearings regarding women serving on submarines. The only thing missing was the television cameras. They were all watching her. But instead of looking her in the eye, they were staring at her right hand. She looked down and saw it trembling on the table. She withdrew it and placed it in her lap, determined not to show these men how much she was struggling to maintain the thin veil of calm.

  The door to the galley opened, and Brodie reappeared carrying the serving tray Gibbs always delivered her tea on.

  “Sean?” Beagler warned.

  But Brodie wasn’t deterred as he set the tea service down on the table beside Kristen. “Please, Admiral,” he explained briefly, “the lieutenant and I just need a few brief moments.” He then pulled the chair beside her out and sat down. Kristen watched nervously as Brodie took a creamer of milk and poured a small amount in a teacup. “Just a splash, right?”

  “Yes, sir.” She hadn’t realized he’d ever paid attention when she’d prepared her tea. It was such an unimportant thing for him to have noticed. But the realization that he had noticed was comforting. He lifted the simple pot and poured the tea into the cup, careful not to spill any. The men across the table fidgeted with annoyance.

  “Captain Brodie…” Malone started to protest, but the civilian beside him hushed Malone with a steadying hand on the admiral’s forearm.

  “Ignore them, Lieutenant,” Brodie directed her as he poured his own cup of tea and then handed her cup to her on a saucer. “It’s just the two of us having a little talk, all right?”

  Kristen took a sip of the tea, more out of politeness than because she thought it might jog her memory. “Yes, sir,” she answered automatically having no idea what he hoped to gain by this, but at the same time relishing the fact he was trying to help her.

  Brodie took a sip and then set his cup down on his saucer. He leaned back with the same relaxed grace she’d seen before in his cabin when the pressures of command had waned. “What do you want to talk about, Lieutenant?”

  Kristen might have laughed at the question if the room hadn’t been filled with the men staring at the two of them. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, she hardly knew where to begin. They’d only spoken briefly in the last few days since Korea. Once when he told her to prepare her report, and a second time when he’d made it clear he expected her and the other witnesses to speak nothing less than the complete truth. Thus, the chance to speak with him was something she’d been hoping for, but hardly in front of a group of strangers. Kristen forced her personal thoughts aside, knowing what he was referring to. She desperately wanted to remember, if for nothing else than because he wanted her to. “I can’t remember, I’m sorry.”

  Brodie nodded in understanding. “That’s all right, Lieutenant. I can’t remember what we had for breakfast this morning,” he said soothingly. “But, maybe we can start with what you do remember.”

  Kristen glanced at the men across the table. They were no longer squirming but watching intently. She hated the feeling of being under the microscope but had endured it before when necessary. However now, with Brodie next to her, she felt the usual discomfort somewhat lessened. He would protect her; she knew it instinctively now.

  “Kris,” he said softly. She turned her eyes back to him, loving the way those four letters sounded as they came off his lips. “Don’t worry about them,” he reminded her gently. “It’s just you and me.”

  Kristen nodded, her hand trembling in her lap. “Okay,” she replied with a voice sounding suddenly small.

  “We were in sickbay,” he prompted after several moments of silence.

  Kristen lowered her eyes and noticed his right hand resting on the table and the fingers rubbing the table top absent mindedly. He was perfectly calm. He was always so calm…

  Not quite always.

  She recalled seeing him angry a few times before. She then remembered their all too brief moment together in his cabin…

  “Doc Reed and Hoover were there,” she recalled softly. “We had Dr. Dar-Hyun on oxygen…”

  “And you could hear the hissing of the oxygen flowing through the mask,” Brodie offered softly.

  “Yes,” she paused thoughtfully, her nervousness fading. “The heart monitor was beeping erratically,” she added and looked up at him. “You had two EAMs in your pocket.”

  “That’s right.” His voice was gentle and soothing. “Your hair and clothing were still soaked from the SDV.”

  “I remember water dripping on the table and not wanting to get it on his face as I leaned over him,” she said as the images washed over her again, but this time without the emotional baggage that normally accompanied them.

  “You were cold,” he said easily. She could feel him leading her right back to the exact moment in time. It was as if he himself could recall every detail as he guided her to the memory waiting somewhere in her subconscious.

  “I was cold…” She admitted, not having remembered the sensation. “How did you know?”

  “You were trembling with the chills,” he explained. “The water was in the fifties and all you had was a wetsuit to protect you. Your lips were almost blue.”

  “He was scared,” she whispered. “I think he knew he was dying.”

  “You were scared, too,” he reminded her. “But not for yourself,” he added. “You were scared for him because you knew he was frightened he would die alone.”

  Kristen looked at him incredulously, remembering thinking exactly those thoughts. She cocked her head slightly, her eyes questioning. “How did you know that?”

  “Because you took his hand so he would feel a human touch,” Brodie responded, his eyes warm and gentle. “You wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.”

  Kristen stared into his eyes and for a moment thought she would never be able to look away. The usual harshness in his eyes was gone and replaced by something far more comforting. Kristen felt warmth filling her up, only like a warmth she’d never quite known. But, at the same time she was looking into his eyes, she was afraid to let him do the same. Her usual carefully controlled exterior had been badly shaken over the last few weeks, and she hadn’t had time to rebuild it. As a result, she felt vulnerable, as if her emotions were on display for all to see. The others were watching, and she couldn’t allow her true feelings to show.

  “I leaned down to hear him; he was whispering.”

  Brodie nodded, saying no more.

  “He knew he was dying. He could feel his heart giving out…” she uttered softly, her eyes once again transfixed on Brodie’s hand gently caressing the table top. “He told me
goodbye, and thanked me for getting him out of North Korea. He said something about enjoying the free air.”

  Across the table, the men watched in fascination as she remembered.

  “He said the UN Security Council would never approve military force against them. They had assurances from the Russians there would be no war.”

  Pencils scribbled feverishly as the men resumed writing.

  She looked at Brodie, again with a questioning eye. “He told me his people needed fuel oil to heat their homes. They had none in their country, and every year thousands died from the bitter cold. Then he mentioned a general named…” she hesitated as she tried to remember.

  The pencils stopped. The men’s eyes stared at her intently, but they were now just fixtures on the wall. Her entire world had shrunk down to just her and Brodie.

  “Cheong,” she suddenly remembered, and the pencils resumed scribbling furiously. “General Cheong-In,” she hesitated. “I couldn’t understand his full name, but the general told the doctor it was important to maintain the illusion of progress with their rocket program to keep the United States preoccupied with what the DPRK was doing on the peninsula.”

  She looked at Brodie who sat calmly. She saw the warmth and pride in his eyes.

  “There was more, but…” she shook her head, “he couldn’t finish.”

  Brodie nodded and lifted his teacup and took a sip. “That’s good, Lieutenant,” he said regaining some of his professionalism. “Thank you.”

  “Did he say anything else?” Jones asked sharply, wanting more.

  Kristen didn’t have to answer. Brodie’s eyes turned hard almost instantly as he looked across the table at the man. “No,” he told him flatly. “That’s all he said.”

  “We need more,” Jones insisted. “She needs to dig deeper.”

  “There is no more,” Brodie replied and set the saucer down, clearly growing agitated again. “Now how about you go back to wherever you came from and figure the rest out for yourself.”

  Beagler gave Brodie a warning glance. “Sean…”

  But Brodie was fuming, tired of the questions and all of the second guessing. He leaned forward and once more was pointing at Jones accusingly. “If you assholes at the CIA could ever get your shit together then—”

  “Captain,” Kristen said softly. Without thought, her left hand came to rest on his forearm. “It’s all right, sir.”

  Brodie had been on the verge of coming out of his chair, but he calmed down almost at once. Kristen hadn’t realized she’d touched him, and when she did, she withdrew her hand immediately.

  “Admiral,” Jones insisted, “we need to make certain she doesn’t have anything else locked up inside that head of hers we could use to piece this together.”

  “That’s all there is,” Beagler said, his eyes watching Brodie cautiously.

  “How can you be certain?” Jones demanded.

  “He told you already,” Beagler snapped as he looked at the civilian with annoyance, “she remembers everything. You read her file. You know!” he added angrily. “Total recall of everything she sees, hears, smells… absolutely every detail!”

  Realizing they would get no more out of her, the review board dismissed Kristen. She exited the wardroom reeling. No other witnesses were called, and Kristen joined her fellow officers in the control room to wait to hear what the board of inquiry decided. Graves sat in his chair, and Kristen took a seat at one of the tactical displays. Several of her fellow officers had questions for her, but neither Graves nor Kristen could answer them. The hearing was classified, and they were each under orders to discuss none of it.

  After another hour, the civilians and Admiral Malone departed the submarine. A few moments later, the officers saw Brodie as he walked with Admiral Beagler. Everyone was waiting to learn the “verdict,” although Kristen was no longer worried Brodie would lose the Seawolf. She’d seen the way Beagler had intervened to keep Brodie from going too far. Brodie’s value was clear to those who had the power to relieve him. He was the best they had, possibly the best they ever would, and although they might not want to admit it, they needed him at the helm of the Seawolf a little longer.

  “Attention on deck,” Graves barked, and everyone snapped to their feet and came to attention as Rear Admiral Beagler appeared in the control room.

  The admiral paused and looked in her direction. “Lieutenant Whitaker,” Beagler called to her.

  “Yes, sir?” Kristen replied automatically.

  Beagler then asked Brodie, “Might I borrow the lieutenant for a few moments, Captain?”

  “Of course, Admiral,” Brodie agreed.

  Beagler led Kristen aft. She fell into step behind him until they reached a passageway where they had some privacy. “How are you, Lieutenant?” he asked her, a bit of concern in his eyes.

  “I’m fine, sir,” she lied, having no earthly idea how she was feeling. Her emotions were a jumble of confusing and competing thoughts which was unsettling to say the least. For years her emotions had been kept strictly in check. She’d never allowed confusion or disquietude into her perfectly ordered mind. In fact, she’d assumed she was immune to regular human emotions.

  Until recently.

  “I’m worried about you,” he told her bluntly. “Sean says you’ve been through a veritable hell the last few weeks.”

  Kristen looked forward to the control room and then back at the Admiral. “Did the captain ask you to talk to me, sir?”

  “No, of course not,” he said honestly. “I wanted to make certain you’re okay, and you haven’t had too much trouble from the crew.”

  Kristen realized he was offering her a chance to get off the Seawolf. She just had to say the word, and he would quietly transfer her back to his staff. In fact, she didn’t even have to speak. If she allowed a few tears to fall, she would be packing her bags for sunny Hawaii and leave the Seawolf behind forever. But she shook her head. “No, Admiral, this is where I belong.” She then added, “And forgive me for saying so, but would you ask me this if I were a man?”

  “No,” he admitted. “But the fact is you’re a woman, and this boat is filled with one hundred and forty men. The entire crew has been under incredible stress since leaving Bremerton. I just want to make certain you’re getting along okay.”

  “Never better, Admiral,” Kristen answered without thought.

  After the admiral departed to the sounds of bells and whistles, she returned to the control room and found an impromptu officer’s meeting already underway. Brodie was going around the control room and receiving status reports and repair needs from each department. Once these reports were complete, he addressed his assembled officers, “Gentlemen, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, and I’m not certain anyone else on our side does either. But I’m certain our problem is not with North Korea. I’m also reasonably certain trouble is coming, and wherever it starts it will be someplace where the National Command Authority isn’t expecting it, which means we can expect fresh sailing orders at any given moment.”

  “Sir,” Ryan Walcott asked, “if North Korea isn’t where our problem is, then why have we dragged battle groups from the Pacific, the Persian Gulf, and the Indian Ocean to the Sea of Japan?”

  According to message traffic they’d received recently, the National Command Authority, fearing a nuclear exchange on the Korean Peninsula, had redeployed three separate carrier battle groups from their normal patrol areas and ordered them, with all expedience, to the Sea of Japan.

  “Answer that one and they’ll make you an admiral tomorrow, Ryan,” Brodie replied with a shake of his mane. “That’s why, although I want to run a regular liberty schedule and get everyone off the boat for some time ashore, we have to hit it hard and see to our repairs. Not to mention get the DDS off and, as soon as possible, remove those two TLAM-Ns from the torpedo room.” He shook his head, clearly not liking the two nukes being on board. “Those damn things are giving me ulcers.”

  “Captain, what about the SEALs?”
Graves asked.

  “Our guests will be departing within the next few days,” he said simply. “Or so I’ve been told.”

  Brodie looked around for any other questions. Everyone except for Kristen and the XO looked at him expectantly, assuming he would explain what had occurred over the last few hours in the wardroom. He unbuttoned his dress coat and loosened his tie, finally looking uncomfortable in the formal clothing. “Anything else?” he asked, offering no hint as to what occurred in the wardroom between himself and the review board. There were no more questions, and he departed, keeping whatever thoughts he had concerning the visit by the admirals and the civilians to himself.

  Several of the junior officers shook their heads in disbelief after he departed. “Not so much as a word,” Terry whispered to Kristen. He’d conveniently stood next to her, as he always tried to do in such meetings. “He didn’t say a damn word about the meetings.”

  “Perhaps we’re better off not knowing,” she told him and, without another word, returned to her cabin.

  Chapter Three

  The Kremlin

  Smoke from multiple cigarettes and cigars rose above the assemblage of Russian power players gathered around the long mahogany table forming a bluish cloud above their heads. On the table were several serving trays with alcohol and water. Almost all had chosen the former. The Russian President was seated at the head of the table. Flanking him along each side of the table was the rest of his Security Council. Although not part of the government according to the Constitution, the Security Council was truly where all decisions in the Russian Federation were made. As the head of the Council, the President’s thoughts held considerable influence, but he valued the opinions of the power ministers he’d selected for the Council.

  “The American Navy has responded as predicted to the crisis on the Korean Peninsula,” the Minister of Defense explained. His name was Sergei Sokolov. At fifty-three he was one of the younger men present. Unlike most of the others, he’d chosen to drink only water, and the President trusted his council more than most. “Of their ten operational carrier battle groups, three are currently either in the Sea of Japan or in Japanese ports undergoing emergency repairs.”