Seawolf End Game (12 page)

“They could be in the Persian Gulf in a week.”

“More likely ten days, sir. But, the Iranians must move soon.”

The president was anxious, knowing the unpredictable Persians were not quite ready. “And we’re still watching the American base?”

“We have a submarine just outside the harbor reporting all ship movements.”

USS Seawolf, Sasebo, Japan

“T
ake her out, Lieutenant,” Brodie said simply.

What?!

“Excuse me, Captain?” Kristen asked from her lookout position on top of the sail.

The
Seawolf
was ready for sea, and Kristen was once more assigned to the bridge crew. The XO had just cleared the bridge in preparation for getting underway, and Brodie was in his customary perch on the sail with his feet dangling in the bridge.

Brodie looked at his lit cigar. After contemplating it for several seconds, he flicked it over the side and into the water. “Take her out, Lieutenant,” he repeated casually, as if he were handing over the keys to a Ford Pinto instead of a three-billion-dollar submarine.

Kristen had commanded a submarine out of harbor a million times before in her dreams, but she’d never even been on the bridge when one was taken out to sea for real. So his unexpected order caught her off guard. She looked at Reynolds and Collins, both of whom didn’t appear to think Brodie’s order at all unexpected. “Aye-aye, Captain,” she replied, unable to say anything else.

Beside her, looking a little surprised, was the Japanese harbor pilot. But he said nothing as she took a deep breath and brought up the mental checklist of things she had to do in order to safely get the
Seawolf
from pier side and out to sea. “Communications check, gentlemen,” Kristen ordered in—what she hoped—was her most professional and confident tone.

“Communications check, aye, ma’am,” Reynolds and Collins echoed automatically.

The complete checklist for getting underway was imbedded in her memory, and she went down it with strict obedience to regulations well aware that if she made a mistake, embarrassment would be the least of her concerns. But forty-five minutes later, the
Seawolf
had been gently nudged away from the wharf and was in the channel with the tugboats nearby and awaiting further instructions if she felt it necessary. The entire evolution had been nearly flawless, except for an urgent course correction to deal with an unexpected drift caused by a sudden change in the current she hadn’t anticipated. The entire procedure had been almost routine, but for the fact that she was a lieutenant junior grade and didn’t have her dolphins yet.

The nervousness she’d first felt upon his order to take control had been replaced by pure exhilaration as she found herself deftly handling the nine thousand ton killing machine as they headed toward open water. The sea state was low and they were moving with the current, making her task significantly easier. But even though things had gone well, she’d been surprised that Brodie had never so much as raised an eyebrow to question or countermand any of her orders. It had been incredibly bold of him. But after seeing the way Reynolds and Collins had reacted to his order for her to take command, she realized this wasn’t the first time he’d turned the reins over to a junior officer for what was—in Kristen’s case—the thrill of a lifetime.

As she stood on the sail behind the bridge, with the crisp salt air and chill wind in her face and the bulk of the submarine rocking gently beneath her, Kristen couldn’t help but wish the moment would never end. She had dreamed of this. She had worked for this. She’d fought for this, but she had never truly thought she would get this far. She imagined her sense of accomplishment was similar to those mountain climbers who reached the summit of Everest, and she relished the feeling. Unfortunately, despite her desire to stay on the sail forever, the
Seawolf
was a creature of the deep and didn’t belong on the surface. As they headed into deep water, she knew her time had run out.

“All right, Danny. Break down the railing,” she ordered Martin who was also on lookout duty on the sail. He immediately began breaking down the safety rail set up on the sail.

Kristen took a seat on the sail next to Brodie, where she would be out of the way. She immediately realized why he normally sat there. The view was exceptional, and while seated she was far less likely to fall overboard. Once the railings were broken down and the
Seawolf
was prepared to submerge, she secured the other watches and deck crews, then waited for Brodie to once more take command.

Except he didn’t.

Instead of ordering everyone below and taking the
Seawolf
under the waves as she expected, Brodie was quite content to stay on the surface a little longer which was unusual but also fine with her. Kristen slipped back down to the bridge, having enjoyed the view from the sail but finding his close proximity a bit unsettling.  Since the night of the incident at the officers’ club, she’d managed to suppress all her emotions regarding him, but didn’t want to push it. She hazarded a glance at him, but Brodie continued to sit calmly on the sail, looking out to sea, and showing no sign of wanting to submerge as the
Seawolf
headed toward the Tsushima Straits.

Kristen continued to wait, quietly taking in the view. But as the minutes turned into an hour, she kept wondering when Brodie would order everyone below. But he didn’t, and with each tick of the clock the fact they weren’t submerging became more and more unusual. “Should we prepare to clear the bridge, Captain?” Kristen finally asked, wondering why they’d stayed on the surface so long.

Brodie checked his wristwatch before answering, “Not yet.” He then added, “Just relax and enjoy the view, Lieutenant.”

Kristen watched him for a brief moment. He looked so relaxed, so utterly content it wasn’t difficult to imagine him sitting in a comfortable lawn chair, looking out over the Pacific from a porch he’d yet to build alongside the house that was still just an unrealized dream on the land she now knew he owned. It was clear to her, given the chance, he would stay on the sail for the rest of his life.

She took his advice and turned her own attention back to the sea around them, enjoying the chill breeze on her skin and wishing they might stay on the surface to watch the sun go down in a couple of hours. But they’d entered ever deepening water, and the
Seawolf
certainly wouldn’t stay on the surface much longer.

A thermos of coffee was delivered up to the bridge for the watch standers as well as a small thermos of tea for her. She gripped the steaming cup, warming her numb fingers. Reynolds and Collins were apparently not as excited as she about being on the bridge in the chill wind coming into the channel from the Sea of Japan. “Sir, should we begin securing the communications equipment?” Reynolds asked, clearly cold and realizing they could submerge at any moment.

Brodie didn’t immediately answer. She thought she saw a brief moment of sadness in his eyes. The image of him sitting there on the sail, where she knew he was happiest, and yet seeing a hint of sadness troubled her. Then she remembered that this would likely be his last patrol, and these rare moments were rapidly running out for him.

Despite what was probably a desire to stay on the bridge, he nodded. “Very well, boys,” he told the two communications men, who clearly weren’t needed any more. “Prepare to clear the bridge.”

“Prepare to clear the bridge, aye.” Collins and Reynolds responded immediately and broke down the various pieces of communications equipment as well as the windscreen. Once all was stored below, they requested permission to leave the bridge and Brodie simply nodded. The two enlisted men went below, leaving the two officers behind on the bridge.

She looked off to the west, watching the sun still well above the horizon. Kristen expected she would have to go below soon and felt the desire to hold onto the moment a little longer. She then heard him slip off the sail. It was time to go below and return to the forty-foot diameter steel tube that made up their world. She turned toward him, expecting to see him directing her down; instead, he assumed a position on the bridge beside her, relaxing against the starboard side, his right arm propped up on the edge of the sail and a cup of coffee in his left hand. He didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon.

Kristen almost asked why they were staying on the surface but stopped herself. She didn’t really care why. Instead—for once in her life—she ignored the procedures, along with the consequences, and just enjoyed the moment. She knew better than to think he was just up here enjoying the view. He had a reason to stay on the surface longer than needed. Everyone said he always had a reason for everything he did, and she knew he must have one for this, too.

She remembered the stories her father told her about being at sea, and how much he’d loved it. They were her oldest conscious memories and all she had left of her father. She recalled his descriptions of being on the bridge and watching a sunrise while cruising on the surface in the middle of the ocean. His love of the sea was imparted to her almost from birth.

“Are you getting cold?” Brodie asked, interrupting her reminiscence.

Kristen’s parka was no longer keeping out the frigid cold and biting wind, but she didn’t want to complain. “I’m fine, Captain.”

She feared if he knew she was cold he would send her below and the moment would be lost forever. But, Kristen was rewarded with a gentle nod of his shaggy head. She turned her attention back toward the west. She secretly glanced at him every few minutes as they continued on their course, but she saw no indication he was inclined to go below and submerge the ship.

They were now well out to sea with several hundred feet of water beneath them. The islands of Japan were hazy memories on the horizon, and the only sounds she heard were the wind and the water rushing over the hull and crashing against the sail. He said nothing and it seemed fitting to her to stay quiet as well. It felt almost sacrilegious to disturb the immense beauty now surrounding them.

He moved slightly and she turned, once more expecting the order to go below. Instead, he simply lifted his hand microphone and spoke to the control room below and ordered a course change to the north toward the Sea of Japan.

The setting sun was now on their portside, the side of the bridge where Kristen was, and she couldn’t help putting her back to him and watching the sun as it began its dive into the horizon. She had no idea why they were still on the surface but wasn’t about to complain. She watched as the last glimpse of the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, leaving the fiery orange horizon as a backdrop. She exhaled deeply and turned her attention back to where they were going, wiping at a lock of hair misplaced by the wind. It was then she realized he was watching her. Kristen turned her head toward him. “Sir?”

“I was just thinking, Lieutenant.”

Kristen wished he would call her “Kris” again. They were all alone and no one else would ever know. But as quickly as she considered this, she cursed her foolishness. If she were going to stay on board, she had to stop thinking about him. But it was hard. The rapidly advancing night had now cast his face in shadow, and she could no longer see his eyes, but she could feel them looking at her.

“I don’t imagine you’d be willing to share those thoughts, sir?”

Brodie smiled in the dim light. “Some of them perhaps,” he said whimsically and then explained, “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

Kristen dismissed the apology as unnecessary with a brief shake of her head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Captain. On the contrary, I wanted to thank you,” she added as she motioned toward his hands. “I’m sorry you hurt your hands.”

Brodie’s shoulders lifted in light laughter as he glanced down at his scarred knuckles. “Bastard had a head like an anvil.”

Kristen chuckled, too. “I guess you’d know.”

“Spike’s always telling me to go for the body and stay away from the head,” Brodie explained, saying more in ten seconds than he’d said in the last four hours. “I guess I oughta listen to him more.”

“He’s a good man,” Kristen agreed. Then, not sure why, she asked, “What happened, sir?”

“Lieutenant?” Brodie asked, a bit surprised by the question.

“I…” she paused and then explained, “I meant, I was a little surprised by your reaction.”

Brodie nodded and then said softly, “We all have our demons, Lieutenant. Some of us just aren’t as good at hiding them as others.”

Kristen briefly saw an image of her father, lying in the bathtub of his apartment and felt the same terrible sickness that always accompanied the image. The perfect memory so many people admired was her secret curse. Silence once more engulfed them, and Kristen found herself filled with questions for him. But the walls of etiquette between them were as strong as ever.

Thus she was surprised when she heard a voice ask, “What are yours, Sean?” The sound of her voice startled her. It was as if someone else had asked the question.

Brodie’s head turned slightly back toward the bow. She caught a glimpse of his face in the lingering light. His eyes narrowed and his square jaw tensed slightly. It was clearly something he didn’t talk about; something deep within him he kept hidden away. She could almost feel the struggle within him.