“Put him in a suit, but I don’t see any flames around. And get the desmoking teams on this?that looks to be the main problem right now.”
“Roger.”
The investigator knelt down by the body and ran his hands gently over it. There were no obvious signs of damage other than unconsciousness?it could be that the victim had simply been overcome by the smoke. But the position he was lying in indicated that he hadn’t dropped gently to the deck.
The investigator glanced down the passageway, trying to locate the original source of the explosion. It couldn’t be too far, and there was every chance that this casualty had been caught in the immediate vicinity of it. No, better not to move him?let the corpsman take a look at him first. If he had hit the wall, maybe slid down from there, he could have fractured his neck or his back. To move him now would be to risk permanent paralysis.
Leaning over him to look at the other side of the man’s uniform, the investigator checked for a name. It was one of the things he would want to report immediately to the team leader, to answer questions about why the injured sailor hadn’t shown up at his General Quarters station.
As his eyes lit on the collar, the investigator sucked in a hard breath. Stars. He brought his portable radio back up to his mouth. “Team Leader, I’ve identified the casualty. It’s Admiral Magruder.”
“The admiral? Are you certain?”
“Unless you know somebody else on board who’s got three stars on his collar, that’s who it is.”
“Roger. The corpsman is on the way.”
The investigator stayed with Admiral Magruder until two other team members showed up accompanying the corpsman. He left the admiral in their care, and proceeded on down the passageway to complete his preliminary examination.
Near the admiral’s quarters, the nonstructural bulkheads were twisted and warped. The smoke was thicker, and the scent of it seeped in under his ensemble hood. He pulled it down tighter, breathing out a heavy breath to clear it out.
Around the corner now, easy, don’t be getting in a rush. It looks like this is where?yes. The investigator picked up his radio for a third time. “Team Leader, in Compartment…”
He glanced up at the overhead and reeled off a series of figures from the barely legible brass plaque. “I have a possible Class Alpha fire.”
The investigator could hear the feet, the noises of a fire team moving as quickly as they could in their cumbersome gear. The hose slithered across the deck, clunking as the metal joints between sections scraped over the knee-knockers. A few moments later, he saw the lead hoseman materialize out of the smoke.
The investigator stepped back and let the rest of the damage-control team have complete access to the area.
Not a bad one?not as fires go. From the looks of it, most of the damage was done by the initial explosion. Just some residual fire?should be easy to extinguish.
The investigator left the scene and began circling through the adjoining compartments, checking for where the fire might have spread.
Another investigator was also checking the decks immediately above and below, although Repair 8 would have primary responsibility for any damage on the flight deck. Still, it never hurt to double-check. Fire had a way of doing that aboard a ship, creeping along through empty spaces and between decks, getting out of hand before a fire party really knew what was happening.
Twenty minutes later, the investigator was satisfied that the damage was limited to the 03 level of the carrier in a small square centered around the admiral’s stateroom.
“Admiral? do you know where you are?” The voice was kind, yet insistent. “I need for you to wake up now, Admiral. Come on, I know you can hear me.”
Tombstone felt like he was underwater. The voice was barely audible, as though someone were talking a long way away. It sounded muffled, dampened by the sea. He tried to move, and felt the same sluggish restraint he always noticed when skin diving.
“Admiral? talk to me.” The voice again, closer now, and louder.
Tombstone felt a groan shudder up from his gut. He twisted, and that small movement brought pain flooding into him from all over. The groan deepened, forcing its way out from between his lips against his wishes.
“Good?I knew you were awake. Open your eyes now, please.”
Tombstone tried to obey, and felt the light slowly creeping up under his eyelids. It was lighter now, but the shapes around him were oddly fuzzy and indistinct. “Where am I?” he managed to croak. His throat felt as though it were on fire.
“You’re in Medical, Admiral. There was an explosion and a fire in your quarters. You were injured?not seriously. You’re going to be fine.”
Tombstone squinted, trying to resolve the blurs into faces. Finally, one familiar to his eyes swam into view. “Batman.”
Batman laid a restraining hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Take it easy there, Stoney. I didn’t believe it possible, but that bulkhead was harder than your head. You just lay back for a while, let the doc finish checking you out.”
Batman shot the doctor a concerned look. “He says you’re going to be fine.”
“Help me stand up.” Tombstone’s voice was weak but insistent.
The doctor shook his head. “Not a chance, Admiral. You check out all right, you stay with us for another thirty minutes, then we’ll see about letting you move around. I’m not risking it at this point, not until I get the X-rays back and I’m sure you don’t have a concussion. Tell me, how’s your eyesight? Having any problem seeing me?”
The doctor snapped a flashlight on, flicked it across Tombstone’s pupils.
“No problems. I can see you fine,” Tombstone lied. “Just let me-“
Batman increased the pressure on his friend’s shoulder. “You lie your ass back down in that bed, Stoney, or I’m going to authorize the doc to put you in restraints. You got that?”
“Dammit, Batman, I-“
“It’s my ship, Tombstone.” Batman’s voice carried with it a quiet dignity. “Quit being an asshole and let me go take care of it. The doc only called me down here because you kept trying to roll out of the bed.”
“Okay.”
The efforts of the last few minutes had exhausted him, he was alarmed to find out. Tombstone lay back on the narrow mattress and stifled another groan. At least everything was moving, or seemed to be. He’d know for sure if they’d let him stand up. But there was no point in keeping Batman from his duties with a truculent childlike reaction from a senior officer. What he’d said was true?it was Batman’s ship. At this point in time, there was absolutely nothing Tombstone could do except stay out of the way.
“That’s better. Stoney, I’m going to leave, but I’ll be back later to check on you.”
“He’ll be fine, Admiral Wayne,” the doctor assured him. “Now that we’ve got him under control.”
The explosion. Tombstone tried to summon up the exact details from his battered brain, but remembered nothing more than hitting the wall.
He’d been headed back to his cabin, that much he remembered. There’d been a sharp flash, then?what?
Nothing.
What on the ship could possibly explode that way?
Nothing Tombstone knew about, not in that area of the ship.
A cold, clear dread settled in his stomach. It hadn’t been the ship, he knew with compelling certainty. Not the ship at all. Someone else?something else?had caused the explosion.
Sabotage.
“I demand to be briefed. Immediately.” Bradley Tiltfelt’s voice was cold, full of self-righteous rage. “It’s imperative that I be kept fully aware of what’s going on on this ship.”
“How bad is it?” Batman asked the damage-control officer. The Captain of the carrier was standing immediately behind the grimy and sweating damage-control officer.
