My Journal by Harriman Nelson- Lean on Me

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My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

21

“About time you showed up, Nelson,” the president said as I was escorted into the Oval Office. It was 0415 but he looked as though he hadn’t even been to bed yet. I knew I hadn’t. “I thought your flying sub would have made better time than that.”

“As advanced as it is,” Major Abercrombie said, “even the flying sub needs an opening in the ice from under the ice cap to take flight, sir.”

The fact that the lone marine attending him winked at me defused some of the tension I’d been feeling ever since I’d been summoned.

“The message didn’t say why you wanted to see me, Mr. President. Am I correct that it’s about Ozno?” I asked, standing in front of his desk, my cover in my hand.

“Yes and no,” he rose and began to pace back and forth in front of the window, the drapes having been pulled closed hours before. “Granted he’s not a mega terrorist, but he’s dangerous. No, there’s been no further word about just where he is in France, if he’s even still there, or what he may be up to. What concerns me, Admiral Nelson,” he paused and looked me square in the eyes, “is Crane’s little stunt….”

“That’s Nelson-Crane, sir,” Abercrombie interrupted.

“Thank you Major. I’m sure the admiral is well aware of to whom I’m referring. The captain’s little ploy to bring Ozno out in the open by deliberately insulting him is asinine, no matter what ONI and the CIA think. And it was his idea! Who the hell does Crane think he is anyway, Captain America? The man’s blind. And still suffering from injuries. The whole thing is ridiculous.”

“I understand that Lee is only setting himself up as bait,” I said. “ONI has agents already in the field, including Commander Jackson, ready for any action.”

“And if anything happens to Crane, the public will blame me for not pulling him out of harm’s way! Damn it, the nation idolizes him! The only way,” he leaned forward, his fists on the desk, “to insure his safety, is for you to order him to haul his ass back to Seaview, then hide him at the bottom of the sea until Ozno shows himself and Special Operations resolve things.”

“I don’t approve of what Lee’s doing, Mr. President. Not one damn bit. But I sure as hell won’t demand he run and hide! I wouldn’t do that  myself. Even you can’t order him to do anything now, especially something so...cowardly.”

“I was given all that crap by my advisors. Look, Nelson, I want to protect the boy, as much as I’m sure you do. Tell him you’ll un-adopt him if he doesn’t return to Seaview! Surely the threat of losing his new father would lure him back.”

“Are you mad? I tried to dissolve our relationship once before, for another reason, thinking it would be the best for him, but it wasn’t. He had a hard time forgiving me the mere thought of it. I’ll never attempt such a proposal again. And I think I know Lee well enough to know that he’ll do whatever he perceives his duty to be, civilian or not, for his country, for mankind, and for himself, despite any and all risks, or for what even I might want. I’m sorry, Mr. President, but Lee’s out there, making himself a target because he believes it’s the best way to pull Ozno out into the open and to protect any potential victims. And ONI agrees that it just might work. If he’s hurt or killed in the process, that’s a risk he's willing to take, a risk that we're just going to have to live with. As much as we don’t like it, I, for one, refuse to tell him not to do what’s right.”

“But he’s going to get himself killed!”

“Possibly...so why did you really drag me away from Seaview to ask me this, when you could simply have called me?”

“This is the only place I know of that is completely bug free. Major?"

" Here are the latest telephoto pictures of the captain,” Abercrombie said, laying out some 8X10’s. “Some satellite, some by agents. A couple from Commander  Jackson.”

Most of the pictures were of Lee and Joe enjoying themselves at various sites, touring modern cities, ancient villages, and castles. But there were also sobering pictures of the two, in uniform, visiting American and allied cemeteries from both world wars, as well as their visit to Buchenwald. Uniformed or not, Lee  and Joe had knelt there, tears on both their faces, clearly overwhelmed. Not an uncommon reaction by most visitors, I was  told.

There was also a delightful picture of Lee, in lederhosen, enjoying a huge pretzel with a large tankard of beer as he and the tour group enjoyed an outdoor beer fest. There was no indication that he’d entered the slap dance and yodeling contest. I’d have to wait to find that out.

“See that person there?” Abercrombie interrupted my musings, pointing to a man next to Lee in that picture. “The CIA has confirmed him as a known acquaintance of Ozno.”

“Lee’s plan seems to be working,” I said, both proud and terrified at the same time. “I know he could lose his life in this venture, Mr. President, but I still can’t, in good conscience, ask him to come home.”

“Very well, Admiral, but when he’s maimed or killed, and the public hounds me, I’ll have no choice but to let them know that you had a chance to bring him home but didn’t even try.”

“And I’ll let them know, Mr. President, that you are an ass if you think that public opinion is more important to me than letting Lee doing the right thing. Now, sir, if that’s all, I would like to return to Seaview.”

“Major? See that our ‘guest’ has a suitable escort back to his flying sub.”


“Er,” Sharkey hesitated as I boarded the flying sub berthed on the Potomac. “Anything I should know about?”

“No. Nothing new.”

“Oh, by the way, the London Times had a couple of great pictures of the skipper. Seems like he’s really become a favorite son, well, sort of, of the Brits. Most of the pictures are kind of fun. Couple were, well, pretty somber. We put them on the bulletin board and in the scrapbook. And Cookie’s serving homemade pretzels and Wiener Schnitzel tonight.”

“Fine, fine,” I answered, still distracted from my visit with the president.

“You okay, sir?”

“No, frankly I’m not. Things are starting to move, Francis. As much as I’d like to ask Lee to come home, I don’t think he'd appreciate me asking. And he wouldn't even consider it, anyway. All I can do, any of us can do, is pray. Hard.”

Entry #22