Streamline (51 page)

The commandant shook his head. “You found him in your office, Dr. Hansen?”

“Yes, sir. I was dealing with a crisis in the infirmary, and I needed to retrieve one of my charts.”

He gave her a knowing look. “Dr. Adams apprised me of that situation. Sounds like you had a long night.” She glanced at the MP. “I think we’ve all had a long night, sir. I came to my office and Leo, uh, Mr. Scott, was on the floor. I started yelling at him, asking him what he was doing there. Then I saw my desk drawer unlocked and open, and he admitted to reading my charts.”

“This makes no sense,” Captain Tracker said. “Do you have any idea whose charts Mr. Scott would be after?”

“I thought about this all night, sir. Sometimes counseling clients worry about what their psychologists write about them, so he might’ve wanted to see his own chart. He hasn’t been entirely forthcoming with me, and maybe he wanted to see if I’d figured out something about him. Or perhaps he was after another chart. He does know a couple of my other clients.” She glanced nervously at the midshipmen.

“I’d like everyone to leave the room except for Dr. Hansen,” the captain announced.

The midshipmen and MP immediately stood and headed for the antechamber.

“We’re talking about Lt. Keaton?” he asked once they’d gone.

“Yes, sir, and I’ve also been seeing two other midshipmen in Second Company.” Ina paused. “I noticed Lt. Keaton isn’t here this morning?”

“I’ve chosen not to include her at this point. There’s a strange dynamic between her and Mr. Scott, and I believe it’s unwise to involve her. What do you think of that, Dr. Hansen?”

“It
is
odd that she’s punished him quite severely on two occasions.

But Darnell seems very remorseful for striking Leo, sir. I have a sense she wasn’t entirely in control of herself when she did that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…Her symptoms do seem to relate to her fitness for duty, so I can tell you Darnell appears to have a traumatic history. She’s already dissociated twice in my presence, likely re-experiencing the trauma. She hasn’t disclosed to me what happened to her. However, I believe she may have been dissociating when she hit Leo.” He nodded. “Well, then, it sounds like for the safety of both of them, let’s keep her in the dark about this. I’m sure you’re not too excited about telling Darnell her privacy may have been compromised.”

“I’ve been considering how to handle the confidentiality issue, and I’ll consult the state board today.” Ina sighed. “This is my worst nightmare. Since I don’t know whose charts were read, I think I’ll delay disclosing the breach to clients for now, sir.”

“Okay. Anything else we need to discuss before we bring the rest of the crew back in?”

Ina paused. “Leo seemed like such a good young man, sir.” She looked down. “I feel so betrayed.”

“I can imagine. This midshipman appears to be hiding many secrets. I’d like you to keep trying to get some information out of him.”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain called the rest of the group back in. “Okay, from what I’m hearing, we need to call an Honor Committee hearing ASAP.

Given we have a breach of confidentiality involving therapy patients’ rights, I want to move quickly on this to try to get to the bottom of things. Midshipman Sour, I’d like you to set up the hearing.”

“Yes, sir.”

Turning to Nevington and the MP, he instructed, “I want you two to interrogate Mr. Scott. If he’s tight-lipped, see if his roommate can be useful. Dr. Hansen will also visit his quarters for questioning when her schedule allows. And there better not be any violence involved with the interrogation, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Understood, sir,” Nevington said.

The commandant stood, followed by the others. He nodded to dismiss them. “Good luck. I’m afraid we might be too late to save this sailor, but at least let’s minimize the damage.”

His careful handwriting swam before his eyes, blurred by tears.

They’d taken his laptop, forcing him to resort to snail mail.

Leo tried to get the wording right, but there was no suitable way to break it to Audrey. He was paralyzed by writer’s block — or, actually, heart block. He cursed his weakness.

It was almost nine o’clock, and he knew they’d be coming for him soon. Benito had already slogged through PT, breakfast, and his first class by now, and Leo had done nothing but shower and stare at the unfinished letter. Studying for classes he’d likely never attend again seemed a pointless venture, and his concentration was hardly at its peak anyway.

He wasn’t exactly sure of the how and why of Lt. Commander Walsh’s murder, but he was relatively sure knew the who — he felt it in his gut. There was a reason Lt. Keaton hated men with the last name Scott.

Finally his company commander and an MP burst into the room, and Leo stuffed the pen and paper under his rack and sprang to attention.

“It sounds like you had a busy night, Midshipman Scott. Do you know why we’re here this morning?”

“Yes, ma’am. You want to know why I broke into Dr. Hansen’s office.”

“Very perceptive. Let’s hear it.”

He said nothing.

She barely let five seconds of silence tick by before she ordered,

“Drop and give me seventy-five.”

He completed the pushups and snapped back up to attention, breathing hard and sweating.

“How can one plebe perform so brilliantly yet screw up so royally?” Nevington mused.

It was a good rhetorical question, and Leo kept his mouth shut.

Her next question was not so rhetorical. “Why’d you break curfew to go to Dr. Hansen’s office?”

“No excuse, ma’am.”

“Don’t get cute with me, Mr. Scott. I want an answer to my question. Now.”

Leo sighed. He hated to displease a superior. But he couldn’t risk it. Zipping his lips was the only way.

“Get in the plank position,” Nevington ordered.

“Yes, ma’am.” Leo dropped and held his body parallel to the floor, his weight perched on his elbows and toes. It wasn’t long before the trembling began. His body quivered as he supported the bulk of his weight with his core muscles.

She kneeled next to him. “You can stop at any time, Midshipman Scott. Just tell me whose chart you were after, and this will all be over. Otherwise we’re in for a long day.” His only response was a grunt. More time elapsed, and the shuddering intensified.

“Why’d you break in to Dr. Hansen’s office?” Sweat poured down his neck. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself up much longer.

Her voice sharpened. “You
will
talk to me before this is over!” He finally collapsed.

“On your feet!”

Leo peeled his body off the floor, still trembling from the effort.

She put her face inches from his. “Are you ready to talk yet?” 

“No, ma’am,” he panted.

“Give me one hundred burpees then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Leo began the up-and-down exercise: squatting with his hands on the floor, kicking his feet back to a pushup position, returning to the squat position, and finally leaping up in an explosive jump before repeating the movement. Just the first ten had him breathing hard, and he still had ninety left. Perspiration ringed his collar, spreading and sticking his uniform to his chest.

He made his mind blank and heard only his steady, labored breathing.

Exercises completed, Leo stood at attention once again. His throat was parched.

“Why’d you break into the psychologist’s office?” Las Vegas asked again.

“I can’t tell you, ma’am!” Frustration crept into his raspy voice.

“Arms out,” she ordered.

Leo lifted his arms to the side, parallel to the floor. It was easy at first, just like the twenty-four-hour march, but after a few minutes his shoulders burned and his mind screamed.

If he’d only come clean with Nevington or Dr. Ina, they’d probably fight to save him. But he couldn’t think about self preservation, only about saving others. Audrey was one of several people on the line now, and her happiness was much more important than his.

His deltoids were on fire, and he willed his leaden arms to remain airborne. Nevington’s face was mired in disappointment. The varia-tions of PT torture were endless, and Leo knew she would not give up anytime soon.
Stay strong for Audrey
, he told himself, choking down a sob.
Save Audrey.

According to the sunlight filtering into the room, it was almost noon by the time he saw Dr. Ina. She came to his dorm room as he was enduring the wall-sit exercise, his knees at a ninety-degree angle and his back against the wall, forming a human chair. Flames of pain blazed through his quadriceps, and sweat soaked his uniform.

Nevington hovered over him, her now-hoarse voice not quite as intimidating as it had been at the beginning.

“On your feet!” she ordered, and both midshipmen stood at attention, saluting Ina.

Though he guessed Dr. Ina would likely ask him even more questions, he was happy to see her. Her interrogation couldn’t be any worse than what he’d just withstood.

“At ease,” Ina commanded. “Midshipman Nevington, I’d like to speak to you outside. MP, give some water to Midshipman Scott.” After gulping to his heart’s content, Leo set down the water bottle and shifted back to attention when Ina returned.

“I let Viva head to Noon Meal Formation,” she said. “Please bring some food for Midshipman Scott, then stand guard outside,” she told the MP.

The MP nodded and left.

Ina pulled out Leo’s desk chair and ordered “Have a seat,” before crossing the room to sit at Benito’s desk.

“You’re not on crutches anymore, ma’am,” Leo observed as he sat down.

Ina nodded. “Today’s the first day my surgeon said I could go without them.”

“How
is
your knee, ma’am?”

“My knee’s healing well, Leo. How are
you
doing?”

“Fine, ma’am.”

“Your company commander was tough on you?”

“No more than I expected, ma’am.”

She leaned back in her chair. “So, I talked to the Maryland Psychology Licensing Board today. They’re not pleased with your actions. They agreed I need to find out whose charts you read so I can inform my clients of the confidentiality breach. And you
will
tell me that information this afternoon.” A defiant glare was his only reply.

“I have clients out there living their lives, oblivious to the fact that some eighteen-year-old boy stole their private information. You’re a psychotherapy client, Leo. How would
you
like that? How’d you like some stranger knowing your deepest secrets?” Looking away, Leo realized the afternoon session would be a different kind of challenge. Emotional torture. Dr. Ina’s guilt trip had arrived at its destination, landing squarely with a resonant thump.

Her voice rose. “Would you feel violated if some stranger stole your secrets without your permission? Would you be angry? Would you hesitate to trust again?”

He looked down. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I would too, Leo. I’d be very disturbed. I’d feel even more violated if the person who stole my privacy refused to share why he did so.” She waited a beat. “Of course, if you were just looking at your own chart, well, that’d be different.”

Leo gulped. He felt awful. “I wasn’t looking for my chart.”

“Thank you for telling me that.” Ina rewarded him with a warm smile. “I was just talking to Ms. Nevington. She told me the bruise you had a couple of weeks ago was from Lt. Keaton, not a wayward rifle.”

He felt his cheeks burn. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but as I told you, my company commander ordered me to lie about that.”

“Apology accepted. It’s quite inappropriate for a superior to strike a subordinate. I wonder what happened to the lieutenant. Do you think she was reprimanded?”

Leo stared at his psychologist. He realized the game she was playing, trying to squeeze information from him. He took a deep breath to calm himself, then realized the irony of using the very skills she’d taught him to work against her. “I don’t know, ma’am. What typically happens to an officer in that situation?”

“I would think the commandant would order her to attend anger-management counseling — just like your punishment for acting out in violence.”

“I wouldn’t know, ma’am,” Leo said, mustering his best sweet smile.

With a knock, the MP returned carrying a sandwich and a soda.

Leo devoured his food.

When he wiped his mouth at the end, Ina asked, “Have they allowed you to make any phone calls?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Okay, then, it’s time to call your parents and tell them what’s happened.”

Leo jumped. “After the awful stuff I told you about my dad, you’d force me to call him?” Two could play the guilt-trip game.

Ina cocked her head to one side. “You told me he was in the Gulf. I want you to call your mother.”

“She, um, ma’am, she doesn’t need to know about this, ma’am.”

“Yes, she does, Leo. You might get separated. A mother deserves to know that about her son.”

“I’m gonna wait until the hearing’s over before I tell her anything.”

“Leo Scott, you wil cal your mother right now,” Dr. Ina ordered, sounding very much
like
his mother.