Larry Bond - Dangerous Ground

“Excuse me, Dr. Davis,” said Jerry. “But I think you can tell him at least as much as I’ve been told. I’ve only been on Memphis for a couple of days now, and Senior Chief Foster and the others will do most of the work installing your equipment. I believe that puts him in the ‘need to know’ category. Wouldn’t you agree, Senior?”

Foster was momentarily taken aback by Jerry’s remark and could only utter a halfhearted, “Yes, sir.”

Sighing, Davis quickly looked around and said, “All right, I guess you have a point. We’ll be loading two ROVs and their support equipment for the upcoming mission. The ROVs are modified Near Term Mine Reconnaissance System vehicles. I had to lengthen them slightly to accommodate some of the modifications and I was concerned that they wouldn’t fit. The survey this afternoon is to go over our space requirements and to work out any possible issues with the loading and installation.”

“I see,” said Foster only slightly less confused. “Will we be able to look over the technical documentation for these ROVs? I’m assuming we’ll also be maintaining as well as operating the vehicles.”

“That’s right, Senior Chief,” replied Davis with some caution. “But I can’t let any of you see the documentation until just before we leave. It would reveal the purpose of the mission and, for now, that is only to be known by myself, Dr. Patterson, your Captain and your Executive Officer.”

Foster was obviously dying of curiosity. He looked at Jerry with an annoyed and questioning expression, but all Jerry could do was shrug his shoulders and shake his head no. “Very well, ma’am. Do you have any other questions?”

“Yes, I do, several, as a matter of fact.” Her expression brightened. “Is it possible to open the outer doors on both the starboard tubes at the same time? I believe you have an interlock that normally prevents this from happening, but can it be overridden?”

Foster explained that the nesting interlock used mechanical linkages and that it could be disabled by removing a padlock at one of the connection points. The Weapons Officer held the key, but it required the Captain’s permission, since it was a safety feature.

Davis nodded and fired the next question, which Foster answered succinctly and quickly. The questions kept coming, well beyond any reasonable definition of “several.” And once again, Jerry was impressed with Foster’s knowledge. It seemed like there was nothing this man didn’t know about the torpedo tubes or the supporting systems. Still, after about forty minutes Jerry noticed that Foster was becoming annoyed with Dr. Davis’ unending stream of questions. Before matters could get out of hand, Jerry inserted himself to draw the interrogation to a close.

“Excuse me Dr. Davis, I hate to interrupt, but the Senior Chief still has a few hundred things to do before the formal survey, and it’s almost lunchtime. I suggest we save the rest of your questions for this afternoon.”

“But I only have a few more!” exclaimed Davis. “Really, I’m serious. It will take just a little longer.”

“Later, Dr. Davis, please,” replied Jerry in a firm tone as he gently started turning her back toward the ladder. Reluctantly, Emily began moving— slowly. As they were just about to leave the torpedo room she suddenly spun around and faced Jerry. She looked like a kid who had just lost a prized possession. “The Manta! I forgot all about my questions on the Manta! Do we have time for those now?” Jerry could only roll his eyes. Then, with a very a deliberate motion, he pointed his finger toward the door.

“Okay, okay. I understand. Later,” said Davis with more than a hint of disappointment, but she also smiled at Jerry’s expression. Jerry softly chuckled as they headed up the ladder to forward compartment middle level. He had known a number of bookish engineer types at the Academy, but this was the first time he had met a young woman who could match them. She was just as passionate and intense about underwater vehicles as he had been about his beloved F-18s. That suited him just fine. She cared deeply about her work and would likely move heaven and earth to make sure everything worked perfectly. This reassured Jerry, since the crew of Memphis would have to use her ROVs to do something, somewhere — something that obviously meant a lot to the CNO and his staff. No, Memphis could certainly do worse than to work with the likes of Dr. Emily Davis.

By the time Jerry had finished this train of thought, he and Davis walked into the wardroom — and into a full blast from Patterson.

“Emily! Where the hell have you been? We need to leave now, if we are going to get ready for the survey this afternoon.”

“I’m. I’m sorry Dr. Patterson. Lieutenant Mitchell was giving me a quick tour of the torpedo room. I thought it would help speed things up to get some of my questions out of the way.” Jerry noticed that Davis looked very uncomfortable and embarrassed by Patterson’s unexpected hostility. For that matter, no one in the wardroom looked at all comfortable with Dr. Patterson. Even Captain Hardy, whose face was crimson, suffered in silence, even though he looked like he was going to erupt at any moment.

“Fine, fine, Emily, get your coat and let’s go,” replied Patterson in a patronizing tone. As Patterson and Davis collected their coats and other belongings, the mess steward emerged from the pantry with a set of plates. He set them down on the table and walked up to Hardy and asked, “Excuse me, sir. Will our guests be staying for lunch?”

Before Hardy could say a word, Patterson looked menacingly at the mess steward and said, “I’m not spending any more time on this rust bucket than I absolutely have to.” She then turned toward Jerry and pointed a finger at him. “You! Show me how to get off this piece of junk.”

Jerry quickly looked at Bair, who stiffly nodded his head in the direction of the door. Jerry then motioned to the door and said, “This way. Dr. Patterson.” In her haste to leave the wardroom, she pushed Jerry out of the way and stomped down the passageway toward the forward escape trunk.

As Davis passed by Captain Hardy, she uttered a barely audible “Thank you” and proceeded out into the passageway. Jerry followed the two women toward the escape trunk, but Patterson seemed to remember the way. By the time he was topside, Patterson was already storming off the boat, with Davis running behind to catch up. He shrugged and went below.

When Jerry returned to the wardroom, he found it incredibly quiet and even tenser than before. Hardy ate little and said not a word, although it was obvious that something really bad had happened. Bair’s expression matched Hardy’s. Lunch was eaten in absolute silence, and only after Hardy had left did any of the other officers even dare to ask the XO about what had happened.

Bair pushed himself away from the table, rose, and said, “Gentlemen, believe me, you don’t want to know. And even if for some insane reason you did, I couldn’t tell you. All I can say is this mission will be closest thing to hell that I have ever seen in this man’s Navy.”

As Bair left, the remaining officers looked at each other with astonishment and dread. A sense of despair seemed to descend on all in the wardroom. Jerry was also confused by what the XO had said and couldn’t understand what had brought him so far down. Lenny Berg saw the questioning look on Jerry’s face and tried to explain.

“Jerry, the XO has always been one of the few bright lights on this boat. He is the man who has served directly under Hardy for almost two years and he has been our BS filter from day one. Believe me, he’s taken a lot of hits for this crew. If being this Captain’s personal whipping boy isn’t hell, then I do not want to find out what hell is really like.”