Cross put his arm over his shoulder and pointed west, the pi formation still lingered. “See those clouds out there?”
“Uh-huh.”
That’s Adam and Eve, reunited. They blew together right on schedule. We saved everyone; maybe lost a few fish, but we’re safe. No more Fogner. No more threat. It’s over. We’re going home.”
Briscoe showed a feeble smile, still shaking. “I’m gonna need a lot of coffee first, Marker. Maybe a donut.”
Chuckling he answered, “Let’s get you down to Mess. See what we can round up.”
Warming up, sitting with his hands around a steaming mug, he watched the Captain approach. Cross stood at his entrance.
“We got him back, Captain. He’s gonna be okay.”
“Great. Welcome back, Briscoe,” he said, seating himself at the table.
Biting into a morning’s donut, he answered, “Wonderful to be aboard again, Captain. I don’t think I like that one-man submarine; not enough heat. Everything else worked perfectly, though. Amazing where technology has taken diving.”
Nodding, Broward went to the serving line, poured himself a coffee, then returned.
“Now, I have Harper on alert for your departure. He’ll take you both back when you’re ready. Cross, I assume your car is at your workplace, where the Glider resides.”
He nodded.
“Do you have a landing place there where the Osprey can set down?”
“Yes sir. There’s a big grassy field nearby we use for sports, play lunchtime football. It’ll fit there.”
“Good. How about you, Briscoe? Your car still at Tustin, by the big hangars?”
“Unless somebody stole it, should be waiting.”
Cross smiled at his sense of humor finally returning. “So, how about an hour, Captain? We’ll pack, clear our quarters, and head to the pad. Meet Harper there for liftoff. We’ll be out of your hair, just memories of a nightmare actualized. Okay?”
“Perfect. I’ll be there too, to see you off.”
Together they packed their duffel bags, cleared the room, and stood at the door, looking back in before closing it.
“It’s been fun, but not real fun. This room is going to be in my memories forever,” said Cross.
“Yeah, mine too,” Briscoe added, wiping his eyes.
Topping the stairs, heading over the deck to the helipad, they saw two rows of four sideboys again, used only for presidential visits, standing at attention, saluting, lining the path to the pad’s ramp. As they neared the sideboys, the boatswain’s mate piped them through, up the ramp to the Osprey. Four ruffles and flourishes played from the 1MC saluting their exit from the ship. The Captain stood on the deck below, looking up, saluting them.
Cross aside, whispered to Briscoe, “Never forget this moment, Chief. You taught me well. Made it happen. Thank you, Chief.”
They sharply returned the Captain’s salute, turned and boarded the Osprey. Harper looked back through the open cockpit door.
“Welcome back aboard, gentlemen. It’s time to take you home. You did a great job. Thank you for your punctuality out there. Thought we were cutting it close, but the schedule worked. Still sitting here, enjoying life.”
With that, the crewman pulled up the stairs, slammed the door and signaled him. The turbines fired up, slowly rumbling to a high pitch, the rotors spun up to speed, the Osprey lifted from the pad, leaving the Trident Tine’s crew still saluting from the deck.
They sat privately thinking, not talking, on the short trip to Tustin. As the Osprey touched down, Briscoe grabbed his bag and stood, turning to Cross. His eyes, moist with tears, showed his emotions. “It’s been great, Marker. I’m gonna miss you. Never in my life did I think I’d be at the mercy of one of my old students. Thank God, it was my best: you learned well.” He turned to leave, the stairs dropped behind him.
“Hey, Chief don’t forget Big Bear. See you and Barb their soon. Call me.” His eyes, too, were reddening with tears.
Then Briscoe was gone. The crewman waved out, lifted the stairs and slammed the door. The Osprey, roaring again, lifted from the pad heading north.
One short hour later, it touched down in the grassy football field. The MBORC parking area was empty, having cleared hours before. Several lights shone through the building’s windows: people working late, rushing to complete projects.
Harper left the cockpit to see him off. “We’ll Mr. Cross, this is the end of the line. It’s been a real kick working with you. Not often do I get to work with such expertise. I’ll see you again in a week or so. Pick you up from this field. The Captain will let you know when.” He shook Cross’s hand and returned to the cabin as the door opened, stairs dropped.
He looked back, remembering his first encounter with the Osprey, only weeks before. It seemed like years, now. Returning the crewman’s salute, he headed to his SUV, started it and drove home, eager to see Lindy again, hold her in his arms, ravish her with love.
Knock, Knock.
The door opened, thrown back as she recognized him in the porch lights. “Matt, you’re home!’ she screamed, giggling, hugging him tightly. “I wasn’t sure when you’d return, but I expected tomorrow. I’m so glad you’re home early.” She hugged him, kissing his lips tenderly.
He threw his bag over a chair and spent minutes standing, kissing, hugging, speaking sweet nothings into her ear. Three weeks apart during their young marriage, only three months past, reminded him how much he loved her. He tugged her, not resisting, into the bedroom.
Ten minutes passed and they returned to the living room, sat, smiling, staring at each other for a long time.
Lindy broke the pleasant silence, “So how was your trip? Save the world again?” She laughed, giggling, as she always did on his return. The man she adored had returned. She had him all to herself for a while.
“Nah,” he said. “Just fixed an undersea cable. Same old, same old.”
She cocked her head. “They paid you two million dollars to repair a cable?”
Improvising, he replied, “Yeah, it carries monetary data between the U.S. and China. Ten billion dollar’s worth every day. My part was a drop in the bucket compared to what they could have lost. Plus it involved some danger; parts of it were below the Glider’s test depth. Almost killed me.” He choked up, thinking of Briscoe, and continued, “Fortunately, once again I prevailed against the unforgiving ocean. Here I am.” He was pouring it on, leading her on with his believable fabrication.
Almost in tears, she hugged him again. “Oh, honey, you’re so brave. Can I get you anything?”
“Yeah, there was no alcohol on the ship. I’d love a cold beer. Been thinking of one the whole time.”
“Well you just sit right there, I’ll get you one.”
Returning with two, she handed him one and popped open the other.
After tapping bottles, he sat back on the couch, put his feet on the coffee table, sighed and asked, “So what’s been happening here? Anything interesting?”
“Well you got something in the mail from the U.S. Treasury, looks like a check. I wanted to open it, but I saved it for you.”
“Yeah, we know what that is. Anything else?”
No, not much, until today. I really got worried about you. A Special News Report interrupted our newscast at four, reporting on two underwater volcanoes that were erupting far off the coast of Los Angeles. It was quite spectacular. Navy officials said they were harmless deep-sea fissures erupting from the ring of fire. It happens every hundred years or so. They even felt some small tremors from it in L.A. No one was hurt or injured, as far as they know.” She paused, “I was afraid you might be working near there and be injured or even killed.”