Seawolf End Game (41 page)

Kristen accepted the beer, knowing she would spend the afternoon nursing it. “Whatever you say, Senior Chief.”

“Lassie,” he began and motioned toward Brodie, “that tattoo on the skipper’s arm,” he began, “the lads and I’ve been wondering what it means: avdentes fortuna juvat?” He then added, “You’re about the smartest person we got around here, so we figured you’d know.”

Kristen eyes lingered on the stern where he was cooking food for the crew. “It’s Latin,” she replied and then said simply, “It means: fortune favors the bold.”

The group of Chiefs seemed to think such a tattoo was appropriate on Brodie and nodded in approval. “Well, that sure fits,” O’Rourke offered and then looked at her. “And what’s the ink on your back?” he asked. “I recognize the trident, but what’s the other one about?”

Kristen shrugged. “It’s the reason I’ll only have one beer, Senior Chief,” she assured him.

“So what now, Sean?” Graves asked Brodie as his friend worked the grill. Brodie always handled the grill whenever they had the opportunity to surface and conduct the traditional party before returning to home port. Graves was dressed similar to Brodie, except he wore a collared shirt instead of a tank top.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged in reply.

Along with the message regarding Brodie’s promotion to full captain, there’d also been orders sending him to COMSUBPAC where he was to be rewarded for his years of service with a comfortable desk job. “All these years driving subs hasn’t exactly prepared me for driving a desk.”

COB shook his head in disgust, sipping a beer. He expressed his thoughts in characteristic fashion, “Well I’m done. I’m fuckin’ retiring.”

Graves watched Brodie shake his head with a knowing smile. “What will the Silent Service do without you, Spike?”

But COB shook his own head and answered, “Fuck ’em.”

Graves knew COB wouldn’t serve on another submarine without Brodie as captain. The two of them had discussed the possibility of Brodie getting a missile boat, but they had each agreed it would never happen. Brodie was too much of a rebel to ever be given a ballistic missile submarine. “Don’t bail out too quickly, COB,” Graves suggested. “I’m going to need you on my boat.”

Along with the message relieving Brodie, there’d been orders for Graves giving him his first command. Both would be leaving the
Seawolf
upon their return to Bremerton.

“Well, if you can swing it and find a spot for me, I might stick around for a few more years,” COB offered, but Graves knew the old sea dog had seen enough. He was looking forward to retiring and spending his time fishing and watching his grandchildren grow up.

Brodie shook his head and warned, “Your wife’ll have your ass if you go on another boat, Spike.”

“Ahh,” COB brushed off the possibility with his gravelly voice, “she’ll get over it.”

COB moved forward, spying a couple of petty officers having more than their allotted two beers per man. Graves sipped his own beer and studied Brodie, who’d congratulated Graves profusely on his first command but had hardly spoken about anything else since the fighting in the Persian Gulf. Instead, Brodie had withdrawn into a cocoon of silence, working on paperwork and writing up award recommendations for many of the crew. Graves had his own fair share of award write ups to keep him busy, too, but Brodie had been unusually withdrawn. Graves worried about Brodie at the best of times, but with his friend having command for only a few more weeks and the
Seawolf’s
new captain waiting in Bremerton already, he knew Brodie had to be wishing for one more patrol. “You okay, Sean?”

Brodie had gone out of his way to avoid any such conversation. Graves watched him for any reaction, desperately wanting to see the twinkle Brodie always had in his eyes when he had some secret plan. But his eyes were hidden behind the dark glasses, and his face revealed little. Brodie shrugged. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because for the last two decades, your whole life has been wrapped up in these damn steel tubes, and now you’re about to be put on the beach for good,” Graves told him bluntly. “And to be perfectly honest, I don’t know what you’re gonna do with yourself.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Brodie said with a sigh and another meaningless shrug of a meaty shoulder. Brodie turned his head to look forward along the hull. Graves followed the brief look and saw Kristen seated by O’Rourke. He glanced back at Brodie, whose attention was once more on the searing grill in front of him. Graves was no fool and had picked up something between Brodie and Kristen during the tumultuous cruise. It had been subtle. Both had been determined to hide it. But Graves had seen it and now offered softly, “She’s a fine woman, Sean.”

Brodie didn’t immediately answer. Graves watched him shift the barbeque spatula into his right hand and wipe a bit of sweat from his brow. For a moment Graves thought his friend would simply choose to ignore the comment, but then Brodie said, “I assume you’re talking about Penny.”

“You know damn well who I’m talking about,” Graves replied easily. “Don’t start turning into an asshole just because you made O-6.”

Brodie rewarded him with an amused smile, but his eyes stayed on the hamburgers in front of him. There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them. Graves hoped Brodie would say something. But he stayed tightlipped. “Maybe you could…” Graves let the suggestion linger over the grill thoughtfully.

Brodie flipped a few burgers and set a couple of cooked ones aside. He said nothing.

Graves moved closer, making certain no one could hear them. “Sean, maybe after all these years, she’s the one.” Graves knew Brodie had seen women periodically since his divorce years earlier. Penny had tried to fix him up several times with women they felt certain would be good for their friend, but despite Penny’s best efforts, Brodie had resisted all attempts. “Maybe you two could make something together.”

“I’ve been married,” came the curt, unyielding reply. “Remember?”

Graves knew this only too well, although Brodie had never mentioned the divorce. “I know, but maybe this could be different.”

Graves’ saw a bittersweet smile cross Brodie’s face. “What? You mean like a white picket fence, two and a half kids, and a dog?” Brodie’s voice seemed to make it clear he thought the idea preposterous. “That kind of different?”

“Why not?” Graves asked, not caring anything about protocol at the moment. “Hell, it worked for me and Penny.”

“I know it has,” he answered. “And you have
The One
. They broke the mold after Penny.” Brodie’s tone made it clear he would accept no argument on the subject as far as his opinion of Penny Graves was concerned. After all these years, she was like a dear sister to him. “You’re a damn lucky man, Jason.”

“And I know it, but we ain’t talkin’ about me,” Graves pointed out. “Sean, you can’t go on like you have. The ride’s ending. It’s time to get off the boat and get on with your life.” Graves’ voice betrayed the concern he felt. “I’m worried about you, man.”

“Jason, that isn’t gonna happen,” Brodie said simply as if the thought of him and Kristen together was impossible.

“Why not?” Graves asked, anxious to see his friend happy.

Brodie shook his head slightly at the ludicrous suggestion. “Well, why don’t we start with: I’m her captain and it would be beyond the pale of unprofessionalism. Not to mention I’m about sixteen years her senior.”

“We’ve both known people who’ve gotten past that sort of stuff. She’s a mature woman. Maybe she knows exactly what she wants.”

“You’re right, she does know what she wants,” Brodie responded pointedly. “She wants a career and maybe her own command someday. And we both know after the hell she’s been put through, the last thing she needs to hinder her realizing those dreams is for anyone to think for one second that the only reason she’s heading up the ladder is because she couldn’t keep it professional with her first skipper.”

“No one would think that,” Graves insisted, not at all certain he believed it. Because of the close quarters on submarines, the Navy had issued draconian regulations regarding fraternization between male and female personnel, and he knew the opponents of women on submarines would jump at the chance to drag her name through the mud as an example of the dangers of women on board. “Anyone who knows you would know better.”

“You’re too trusting of our officer corps,” Brodie said bluntly and motioned toward her. “I never thought every officer in this damn Navy would turn their backs on one of our own,” he said angrily. “But they sure as hell did.”

Graves hadn’t thought about the possible damage to Kristen’s career created by her and Brodie being together. But Brodie had raised the specter of what others might think if they knew they were having an affair. His glowing comments on her fitness report and his stamp of approval would lose their luster quickly. “Maybe she doesn’t care about any of that now?” Graves suggested.

“Then it’s my job to worry about it for her,” Brodie countered simply.

“Are those the only reasons?” he asked. “Because if they are, then I can tell you they wouldn’t have been enough to keep me and Penny apart.”

Graves watched Brodie, his laser-like eyes hidden behind the dark glasses, but his normally stone face showed a hint of sadness, and then he shook his head slowly. “You remember when we pulled into Rota years back?” Brodie asked him.

Graves recalled the divorce papers waiting for Brodie in Rota, Spain. “Yeah, I do.” Brodie had never mentioned it before. Not once in all their years together had he uttered so much as a passing comment about his former wife. It was as if he’d scrapped her from his memory. Only Graves knew better. Despite her faults, Brodie had loved Cheryl, and she’d hurt him in the worst way.

Brodie’s right hand stopped moving, the stainless steel spatula hovered over the grill, his eyes stared into the burning coals as if in a trance. He stood still for over a minute. He didn’t even blink as Graves watched him struggling with what was still a painful memory. Graves saw the hair on Brodie’s knuckles singe off and realized Brodie was reliving the experience, all the pain, and all of the agony he’d endured privately. “Sean?” he whispered and reached for Brodie’s arm.

But then Brodie spoke, his voice low and distant. “I hadn’t thought it possible to hurt so much.”

Graves pulled Brodie’s hand away from the heat.

Brodie came out of the momentary daze and looked at his friend. Graves had never seen his face more stone like. “I can’t go through it again,” he said as he returned to setting the cooked burgers aside. “I won’t do it.” His tone left no room for argument. He preferred eternal loneliness than to risk exposing himself to the same pain again.

Graves glanced forward at Kristen, seeing her visiting with the Chiefs. He’d never known anyone more extraordinary than her. No other woman alive could’ve carved out a place for herself among these men who’d cursed her very name three months earlier when she’d first reported aboard. O’Rourke, who’d been a loud critic, looked perfectly at ease with her now as he tried to get her to take a second beer. Graves glanced back at Brodie, and saw his friend looking forward as well. He knew Brodie was struggling with his decision. Brodie had never said it, he’d never even hinted it, but Graves was certain, should he pull Brodie’s sunglasses away, there would be no hiding the love he felt for her.

“Sean… maybe you should give her a chance.”

Brodie turned his head away from her and looked back at the searing hamburgers. “Never again, Jason,” he repeated, his tone tightly controlled and resolute. “Never again.”

The food was served and the beer drunk. Once the party was finished, a formation was held behind the sail where the crew gathered. They had a few minutes of remembrance for Senior Chief Miller and Gibbs. Their bodies had been taken off the
Seawolf
and sent home to their families along with letters from many of the crew including Kristen. Then Brodie addressed them and offered the crew a few words of thanks for all their hard work. Coming from him, the words meant more than medals for heroism, although some of these would be waiting in Bremerton as well.

“Once we get back home, I can’t promise you anything other than my word that my last official act as your skipper will be to make sure each and every one of you gets all the leave and time off you and your families have earned,” he said in closing. For the crew of the
Seawolf
this was what they now cared about more than anything else. They’d been on board for the better part of a year. None of them wanted the hassle of dealing with a new CO who—having not gone through what the crew had—would want to work his men to death.

They then held an awards ceremony, giving out good conduct medals and other awards earned by the crew. Kristen was recognized for her actions during the start of the patrol when she’s saved Hodges and again for putting out the fire in the galley. Finally, she received her gold dolphins.

“Normally you have to wait until you get back to port and the admiral has a chance to question you personally,” Brodie told her as he presented her gold dolphins in front of the entire crew. “But you’ve earned them, and I don’t think Admiral Beagler will complain too loudly.”

Receiving her dolphins had been a moment she’d looked forward to ever since she could remember. Kristen looked down at them as Brodie handed them over. They weren’t brand new but had belonged to someone before. The passing of dolphins from senior to junior officer was not unheard of and normally gave added meaning to the ceremony. Kristen looked at the weathered gold dolphins then up at him. “Yours, Captain?”

Kristen couldn’t see his eyes concealed behind the dark glasses. He’d hidden himself away from her ever since the Persian Gulf. “I know you’ll wear them well.”

Kristen had known she was going to receive her dolphins during the ceremony and had promised herself she wouldn’t cry. But now felt the tears forming in her eyes. “I will, sir.”