My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

7

An official limo with police escort was waiting for us as Riley landed and docked at the designated ‘dock’ on the Potomac.

“Er, sir,” he said as he handed my hastily packed and practically empty duffel to one of the drivers, “I was just wondering…well….”

“You piloted just fine, Riley. Just fine.”

“Thank you sir…um…you will tell…er…suggest to the Skip, er, the president, that he needs to take care of himself…I mean, like, he looked kinda’ wore out to me and….”

“Oh, I intend to, no worry about that.”

“Yes sir,” Riley said, clearly relieved. I think he was about to say more when two man in black approached, and flashed their badges.

“Special Agent Bradford,” the first said, then “and Special Agent Flynn. We’ll be taking care of you while you’re in Washington, Admiral Nelson.”

“Bodyguards?”

“The president ordered it. There have been death threats against all of the Salt committee.”

“My God, and Lee?”

“We’ve increased our coverage on the president.”

“If only he’d only let us do our jobs without biting us, that is,” Flynn said. “He doesn’t seem to understand that he needs protection and that he’s the most important man in world….”

“Oh, he understands,” I interrupted as the driver opened the back door of the limo for me. “He just refuses to let it rule his life.”

Riley waited for the limo to pull away before returning to the Flying Sub and was soon aloft.

“Damn, that contraption of yours is awesome,” Flynn said from his seat next to driver.

“Indeed, it is,” I said.

“We’ll take you to the White House to get you settled in and…” Bradford, beside me began.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay in a hotel.”

“He thought you’d say that,” Bradford snorted,  turning to hand me a printout for the reservation made for one of the area’s five star hotels. "So we came prepared."

“The Hilton? A bit ritzy, don’t you think?” I asked.

“Yeah, he thought you’d think that too, only, most of the press has all the reasonably priced hotels booked solid. Not too many papers or TV stations would want to lay out the cash for this one. Especially a penthouse. Nice view of Washington, they say.”

“Oh, it has.”

“You’ve stayed there before?”

“Once or twice…unofficial business only. Usually I use the Navy Lodge…I don’t suppose it’s available?”

“He checked that one first,” Flynn said.

“Afraid it’s booked solid too,” Bradford said then…”is there anything about you that he doesn’t know, sir?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeah, I suppose as his former CO and as his adopted father, you both know each other’s little foibles. You know, sir, The stewards are complaining that he isn’t taking care of himself. I’d understand that due to all the stress of the current situation, but it’s been like that since he first got here. And…I don’t know how to tell you this but…they found him sleeping on the floor next to his bed once. He swore he hadn't fallen off….”

“Let me guess, Lee said the bed was too soft?”

“Yes, but it’s not. I know because we tested it right after. Sat on it and bounced on it and….”

“Don’t worry about it. Too long to explain his preference for a cold hard deck at times.”

Actually his penchant for a cold hard deck was only after extended undercover operations. Not for when he was in the lap of luxury.

 "Ah…here we are.”

At least the press hadn’t gotten wind of my arrival yet. I was not in the mood to field questions for which, as of yet, I had no answer.

“You sure pack light, sir,” the driver said as he lifted out my duffel from the trunk, along with Bradford and Flynn’s,  and gave it to the bellhop as Bradford checked us into the suite.

“This way,” the bellhop said as he led us to the elevators. “Excuse me, but, aren’t you Admiral Nelson?”

“What’s it to you?” Flynn said, getting in front of me, and Bradford began to frisk the boy.

“What is the matter with you?” I said.

“Can’t be too careful,” Bradford said.

“He’s clean,” Flynn said.

“That’s it,” I said, “you’re both fired,” then turned to the bellhop. “I’m sorry about that, young man.” I took out a small wad of cash, handing it to him, “Please call me a cab while I check out. Alone.”

“Is there a problem here?” the manager asked, approaching, as the bellhop headed to the exit with my luggage.

“Yes, but not on your staff’s part. I’m sorry for any inconvenience but I’m cancelling my stay. I don't know about them.”

“There will still be a surcharge for whoever leaves...."

“Charge it to the Secret Service,” I said and exited the building, hopped into the cab and ordered the driver to take me to the YMCA.

It was not in a nice part of town, and I hesitated getting out of the car. Too much protection and then not enough. I must have sighed.

“Looking for a place to bunk down, Admiral?” the driver asked. “Oh, I know what those stripes mean. Remember, this is Washington. You guys are a dime a dozen…Navy Lodge?”

“I thought it was booked solid.”

“Just took a guy from there to the airport.”

“Well, then, step on it. And thank you.”

While we were enroute, my cell rang. It was from no number I recognized.

“Harry?”

“Lee? Sorry, I didn’t recognize the number.”

“It’s the new one that was faxed, remember?”

“Ah, yes. Sorry.”

“Harry, what the devil happened? Bradford was foaming at the mouth from what I managed to see from his cell phone. You can’t just fire the Secret Service like that. I personally assigned them to you.”

“Even if only briefly, I had enough of their kind of protection, thank you very much. And if I can’t fire them, technically, you, sir, can.”

“Okay, okay,” Lee laughed. “And trust me, I know how you feel. So, where are you bunking tonight? You’re always welcome here, you know.”

“I’m hoping a recent vacancy at the Navy Lodge hasn’t been filled yet.”

“Hang on….”he said and I heard some mumbled voices, then, “it is now. For you.”

“And no Secret Service agents waiting for me there?”

“Not even one man in black, but…I don’t suppose you’d settle for a roommate? Oh, not me, though I’d love to get away from here. A mutual friend of ours might be persuaded….”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Not even if it makes me feel better?”

“Oh very well. You’re impossible sometimes, did you know that?”

“Part of my job description. Anyway, remember dinner tonight. And I won’t even send a limo for you, unless you want one.”

“I’m a firm believer in public transportation.”

“Oh, and good luck with the committee. I think I’d better warn you that some of them have already made their minds up before listening to what the Lt. and Melody will have to say. You may find yourself a referee. And, I’ve put you in charge of the initial session. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Rascal.”

“Yeah. By the way, Mom wants you to give her a personal report on how much I eat at dinner.”

“Good for her!”

“Well, I’d better let you go. Edwards is glaring at me for not finishing my ‘Boost’. It’s a nutrition drink the surgeon general insisted I have. Two of them a day! Cheech! They all think I need a keeper.”

“You’ll be glad to know we’ve arrived at the Lodge, not a reporter in sight.”

“I’ll let you go then…see you tonight,” Lee said and ended the call.

“You, um,” the cabbie asked, “somebody special? I mean the Secret Service and all.”

“Only to my son,” I laughed.

“You called him Lee.”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re an admiral.”

“Um hm. Now how much do I owe you?”

“You’re Admiral Nelson!”

“Guilty. The charge?”

“Oh, hey, it’s on me! And, Admiral, if the president doesn’t have much of an appetite, you can always get some take out from Chen’s. They got a Sweet and Sour Chicken you just can’t get enough of.  Just tell Chen that I sent you…here,” he said, handing me a card, while I picked up my duffel.

“Are you sure I can’t pay you for your ride? What if your boss gets mad?”

“Are you kidding? How often do we get a chance to drive the president’s father? And when you have’ta go to the White House tonight, maybe call me, okay?”

“I’d be honored to.”

It was an odd feeling as I waved him goodbye. He was more impressed with my relationship with Lee than any of my scientific notoriety. Oh, well, the times, they were a’ changin’.