TRWD16

My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
16

The minutes clicked down as I waited in the Control Room, the NORAD tracking radar on the monitor, showing the blip of the People’s Republic’s missile.
“Mr. Morton?” Sparks called out, “Acting President Hodges is back.”
“Tell him,” Chip said, “that the captain is busy right now.”
“Belay that,” I said. “Just respond with static. Lee’s in enough trouble.”
“You don’t think that bogey is just a test launch either, then?” Chip asked.
“We don’t know that it is or isn’t, but I agree with Lee that it could be a prelude to disaster. However, Hodges should have more information that we do.”
“Well, in my humble opinion, the acting president is an ass, sir.”
“Granted, but…”
Just then Seaview shuddered, as our intercept launched and a new blip showed on the NORAD screen, headed toward the bogey.
“I’d rather trust Lee’s instinct, but…Chip, if Lee’s wrong, he could be up on charges of treason. Us too, for not stopping him, for that matter.”
“Just what is this surprise package that Lee installed on our intercept?” O’Brien asked.
“I have no idea.”
“It was the skipper’s prostheses,” Sharkey said, from the hatch, Joe with him, “took it out of his socket, twiddled with it and put it into the unarmed warhead. Said the intercept would take about five minutes to start affecting the bogey’s trajectory. He decided against blowing it up though. That it? There?” he asked, pointing to one of the blips on the tracking screen.
“Yes. God help us,” Chip answered.
“Well, He usually does.” Joe said.
“Yeah,” Sharkey said, “only…if the skipper’s wrong about it being a nuke, if it was just a test launch?”
“Then,” Lee said from the hatch as he entered, his empty socket glinting in the Control Room’s lights, “I may spend the rest of my life in Leavenworth or even be executed. One does not, as a rule, defy a presidential order, even an acting president’s. Even if his order was to do nothing. Mr. Morton? You are as of now, acting captain again, and I’m under house arrest on suspicion of treason.”
“That’s not necessary, Lee,” Chip said.
“Yes, it is. Log it and get the Flying Sub ready asap. I need volunteers to go check out the crash scene when the missile and intercept skid onto the ice, hopefully intact. Use radiation scanners for plutonium, before our ‘friends’ get there and remove any proof.”
He moved toward the NORAD screen, “Any minute now…c’mon baby…do your stuff….”
We all pretty much held our breaths.
“It’ll work,” Lee muttered, “it has too.”
“Uh oh,” Sharkey said as slightly smaller blips appeared on the screen.
“Aircraft approaching our intercept!” Sparks called out, “Transponders indicate U.S. jets. Looks like they’re getting ready to fire on our intercept.”
“The fool! The complete idiot!” Lee fumed.
“Look!” Chip said as the bogey’s trajectory changed while Lee’s intercept turned and was tandem with it
“It’s working!” Sharkey said relieved.
“Our intercept still needs to disable the bogey’s warhead,” Lee said, “before it’s knocked out of the sky by our own Air Force and explodes over the northern hemisphere.”
“How much longer, Captain?” I asked formally as befitted the situation, but not really expecting an answer as Lee was far too busy to reply.
Lee continued to look at his watch. Suddenly it flashed.
“It’s done,” he sighed, “hopefully, anyway,” he added studying NORAD’s blips.

And so we waited, as the jets held off firing, as the two missiles were too close together and the U.S. dared not risk blowing up the test missile and risk war over it. Any explosion had to be Lee’s responsibility, not the government’s.

The planes simply followed in formation, until they would have to break off or risk explosive shrapnel for when the missiles would smash into the ice.
NORAD instruments, however, were reporting that the missiles might, as Lee had predicted, actually glide onto and skate on the ice harmlessly.
Closer, ever closer, the missiles descended to the ice.
The jets turned tail.
“Whatever happens, son,” I said, “I’ll back you.”
Suddenly the missile blips flickered and disappeared.

“Seaview?” the director of NORAD said over the radio, “No explosion indicated. Repeat, no explosion…confirmation by satellite, no explosion… both missiles down intact…”

Lee sagged in relief.
“Chip, if the volunteers are ready, launch the Flying Sub to the crash point. And “remain on battle alert, just in case the People’s Republic retaliates.”
“Pretty doubtful, Lee,” Chip said, “since they claim it was only a test.”
“Humor me anyway, Chi…Captain Morton.”
Chip winced but followed Lee’s order.
“All hands,” Chip said into the mike, “No boom. Repeat, no boom. But we will remain at battle stations until otherwise instructed by the skipper.”
“Correction,” Lee said, taking the mike from Chip. “Captain Morton is now the skipper.”
Chip only snorted in derision.
“I um, better call Washington,” Lee said as Sharkey’s team boarded the Flying Sub and Morton began to take care of launch procedures.
“Let me call Hodges for you, Lee,” I said and walked, helped by Joe, to the Radio Shack.
In seconds Sparks had put the call through. I did not use the phone’s receiver or a headset. This was going to be a live videophone call.
It didn’t take long for the image appeared of Hodges in the Oval Office, surrounded by advisors.
“…This is Nelson,” I said before Hodges could say anything. “Captain Nelson-Crane has put himself under arrest for launching an intercept and Commander Morton is in command.”
“…Damn right!” Hodges yelled. “Disobeying me! Me! I hope you had nothing to do with it, Admiral.”
“…I had no idea of what the captain was planning but I’ll put myself under arrest as well, for not stopping him if you wish. But you’re a fool, Mr. Hodges, if you think there wasn’t any danger from that so called test launch. If it had maintained its trajectory a lot of Washington could have been damaged from impact and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. We’ve sent the Flying Sub to document and retrieve any evidence as to just what their missile was or wasn’t. You might want to send a secondary investigation team as well.”
“…Already ordered, Nelson. If it’s proven that the missile was unarmed, you will be under arrest as well as the captain is now. You both may very well spend the rest of your lives in prison or worse.”
“…I’m well aware of that, Mr. Hodges.”
“…That’s President Hodges. I’ve arranged for the captain to be taken into custody at Inverness. I don’t know what to do about you, yet.”
“…How gracious of you.”
“…Your submarine is returned to active duty as of now, to insure that neither of you or your crew tries to escape justice.”
“…Lee would never anything so cowardly. Neither would I.”
“…Do what you will,” Lee said, “but the crew of the Seaview is without blame, following my orders when captain. You can confirm that with the SecNav. Seaview out.”
Lee turned off the connection himself.
“Captain Morton? ETA to Inverness?”
“ETA tomorrow afternoon at flank.”
“Surface when we get midway down the River Ness. With your permission, I’d like one last chance to sail by boat.”
“You don’t need permission. On this boat, you’re the skipper, you’ll always be the skipper, and there’s not one damn thing you can do about it. Under arrest or not.”
“He has a point, son,” I chuckled.
“Chip, tell my mother and Mrs. Nelson they can come out of the brig. Joe, let Winston out of my cabin and sit with him in the Observation Nose. He might as well get used to the idea that you might to be his new master. I don’t think Missy would care who is as long as she’s fed tuna and is played with a bit.”
I had to wonder at how well he was taking charge of everything, knowing it could be his last.