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Ben finally finished securing classified publications, zeroing out the codes on various pieces of cryptological and other gear, filing paperwork, and planning and preparing the next day’s activities that went along with a vessel availability at a test range. Executive Officer, or XO for short, on a Coast Guard patrol boat as small as Kauai also meant Operations Officer, Engineer Officer, and [Fill in the blank with anything other than Commanding] Officer. Hence, his days were long and full at even the quietest times, and workups and test and evaluation periods were the opposite of the quietest times.
He looked across at Hopkins, sharing the final wrap-up activities. Thank God! I’d be working straight through until the whole damn thing began tomorrow if it weren’t for her. “Come on, Chief,” Ben said. “Let me stand you to the best three-course meal that fits in a microwave.”
“XO, you sure know how to treat a girl,” Hopkins said and followed as Ben led the way to the messdeck.
After their successful mission in January, it had excited Ben when he learned of the upgrades and the new purpose for their ship. He rued that day when he learned of the added security burdens these would entail. They had gained another Operations Specialist petty officer in Zuccaro and Electronics Technician in Bunting, which helped but did not eliminate the extra load Ben and Hopkins had to bear.
When they reached the messdeck, it surprised Ben to find Sam, Chief Drake, and Culinary Specialist Second Class Thomas “Chef” Hebert standing near the stove. He was even more surprised to smell what had to be Chicken Crepes and Cilantro Lime Rice, one of Chef’s specialties. “Captain, COB, have you held up your dinner and Chef’s liberty just for us?” Ben asked.
“Not at all. COB and I just got back from our nightly harangue at Harbor Ops Office, and Chef was just making sure we didn’t screw up the new chafing dish he’s breaking in.”
“Now, Captain, you know that’s not true,” Hebert said. “I know y’all were working late, and besides, it’s not like there’s anywhere to go on this sand heap.” Hebert was one of Sam’s aces in the hole in terms of morale. Born and raised in New Orleans, Hebert apprenticed in a small family-owned and run restaurant in the Vieux Carré before enlisting in the Coast Guard. Besides the service’s regular commissary support, Sam and Drake contributed funds and scavenging to provide for his more “exotic” condiment and equipment needs. The result was superb meals for the crew when underway, a significant plus in a patrol boat’s otherwise spartan existence. As for Hebert, he loved the work, relished the appreciation he received, and, best of all, got to shoot a fifty-caliber machine gun in his general quarters billet.
“You’ll go to Heaven, Chef,” Ben said as he and Hopkins took the proffered plates of food and walked to the mess table to sit with Sam and Drake. “Captain, what’s going on with this harangue stuff? Did I mess up something?” Ben asked after he sat.
“Seems we missed our dockside time by thirty-eight minutes, which apparently poses a significant threat to the republic. I pointed out things happen on shakedown, in this case, that phasing problem we had to fix while underway, but the dockmaster wasn’t having it. Said a navy ship would have sent a proper notification, and he would have to consider reporting whoever was responsible in a letter to our chain of command.”
“What did you say to that, sir?” Ben asked with concern.
Sam smiled. “Nothing. I took out my notebook, wrote ‘LT Samuel Powell, CO (i.e., Officer Responsible), USCGC Kauai’ and Captain Mercier’s name and address, tore out the page, handed it to him, and then walked out.”
“Oh, Captain, My Captain, you’re such an evil influence on us.” Ben shook his head in mock disapproval. “What am I to do with you?”
“Mmmm, yeah. As I think about it, I guess I should have been more circumspect, but I was too tired and fed up. I hope it doesn’t come back to bite us.”
“Captain, I’m sorry,” Hopkins interrupted. “I’ll get Joe Williams onto a go-no-go alarm on the FC3 panel. It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t worry about the navy, sir,” Drake said. “I’ll tell the kids to stay on their toes when they’re ashore.” Drake was the senior enlisted member and the oldest man on the boat at forty-four. Since Hopkins’s advancement to the same rank, the crew informally called Drake “COB” for “Chief of the Boat” on Kauai, a tradition borrowed from navy submarines. He was the best chief petty officer Ben had ever known because of the mastery of his trade and his leadership among the crew. Six-foot-four and physically imposing, he needed just to lean in to get someone’s attention or administer a well-deserved dressing-down. Still, he quickly found an opportunity to work with the individual and give quiet encouragement.
Drake was also a master “wheeler-dealer” who worked an extensive network of connections among fellow chiefs and officers up to Captain’s rank to keep Kauai well-supplied and running. Somewhat concerned about his “Don’t worry, sir, I know a guy...” activities earlier in their tenure, Sam and Ben had learned not to ask too many questions, just sit back and enjoy what happened next.
“Anyway, I was just telling the skipper we’re pretty much there with the new plant,” Drake said to Hopkins and Ben. “One more day, maybe two, and we’ll have the data those geeks need.” The “geeks” Drake referred to were the scientists from the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, or DARPA, on board to observe and record the post-shakedown tests of Kauai’s new diesel-electric drive and stealth features.
Drake himself was learning plenty. His love/hate relationship with the original aging engines on Kauai was over. He now was getting to know the ins and outs of high-efficiency generators, electric motors for propulsion instead of direct-drive diesel, and a high-capacity battery bank for near-silent operations. Drake considered retirement after twenty-four years, going out with Kauai when she decommissioned. Her new lease on life changed everything. Despite her engineering make-over being more aligned with Chief Electrician’s Mate than Drake’s rating, he had pressed hard to stay on board to see things through. Sam was relieved and delighted to make that happen.
Sam’s face brightened. “And the good news is our shooting case is officially and favorably closed.”
“That’s a relief,” Ben said. “Although he doesn’t show it, I know Deke was worried since he’s the one who pulled the trigger.” It had been a sticky situation. The FBI wanted that suspect alive for interrogation and was after a pound of flesh. With senior Coast Guard backing, Sam arranged for one of his father’s high-powered lawyer friends to represent anyone from Kauai called in for an FBI interview. Given that and the fact the full-motion video from Kauai’s and the Customs plane cameras and the body cameras on the boarding party made it one of the most documented justified shootings in human history discouraged further interest. Besides, even the FBI had no stomach to go after a Coast Guardsman who put down a murderous sex slaver and child rapist.
The technical discussion continued as Ben ravenously attacked the chicken—he had had nothing but coffee and water since his breakfast at 05:00. He ached with fatigue, having stood on the Bridge on OOD watch continuously since that time except for bathroom breaks. It had been his lot on this trip, with Sam and all other qualified OODs tied up with test events. He wanted to savor Hebert’s cooking and then grab some sleep, but he had a date of sorts. When Ben finished, he would call Victoria, a moment he anticipated all day and would not miss for anything.
*******************
Victoria Carpenter was the greatest surprise of Ben’s life. A twenty-three-year-old Data Scientist and Mathematical Analyst for the DIA and protégé of his erstwhile shipmate, Peter Simmons, they had met during the search for the lost nuke. The two men left Kauai to focus on the hunt ashore with Simmons’s DIA associates. En route from Key West to a hotel in Marathon, where the team had set up shop, Simmons described Victoria as a mathematical genius with a “neurodiverse” streak. It was a warning for Ben not to be surprised by eccentric behavior. The image that formed in Ben’s mind as they drove through the night was a plainer, geekier, neurotic version of Velma from the Scooby-Doo cartoons. This image shattered the instant the door to the hotel room opened.
Victoria, who led the greetings, was the most beautiful young woman Ben had ever seen—petite, with long auburn hair pulled back to reveal large aquamarine eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips in a heart-shaped face. Contrary to the frumpy dress that Ben expected, she wore a loose-fitting top and jeans that hinted at a smashing figure. She hugged Simmons and said in a husky voice with a midwestern accent, “Hello, Peter! I am pleased to see you.” She turned to Ben with a smile that made him melt. “You are Lieutenant Junior Grade Wyporek?”
Holy crap! Even her voice is incredible. Breathe, boy! Ben took a breath and played it as cool as he could. “Yes, I am. I am very pleased to meet you. You can call me Ben if you like.”
“Why would I like to do that when your name is Benjamin?” Her smile faded.
Oops. “Well, some people prefer to call me Ben because it’s shorter to say, but I like how you say ‘Benjamin,’ so I would be happy if you called me that.” That lovely smile returned.
“Good. We have been working all day and ordered pizza. Mine is a thin crust with pepperoni and green peppers. Would you like some as well?”
“Victoria, I can’t think of anything I would rather do more right now.”
“That’s good.” She then pivoted and walked behind the table holding a large computer monitor and keyboard, sat, and began typing, gazing at the screen. OK, there it is. Ben was thankful for Simmons’s heads-up, as otherwise, he would have been shocked by the apparent rudeness of the gesture. After the introductions, the team settled into a planning session, with Victoria engrossed in her computer work and Ben munching pizza and stealing looks at her whenever he could. As the team conversation ended with a decision to send Victoria and her programmer partner, Steve, back to Maryland the next day, the analyst opened another door to Ben.
“I wish we had more time to work together, Benjamin.”
Ben’s heart leaped. “Well, Victoria, we have a few hours, don’t we? Can I pitch in?”
“No.” Victoria glanced back at the computer work area. “Everything is batch processing right now. However, I read your paper on the SAROPS project that provided the basis of your search strategy. There were several flaws and shortcomings. Would you like me to tell you about them?”
Ka-thunk! Ben blinked and opened his mouth in surprise, then noticed over her shoulder that Simmons was watching him with a slight smile. He consciously dialed down his ego. “Of course, Victoria. I’m always looking for ways to make progress.” He then rolled through the most thorough intellectual beating of his life as she listed every flaw in the paper, from basic principles to punctuation errors. She was entirely correct—when he completed that project, he was sick of school and just shooting for “good enough.” He found it ironic that his intellectual laziness would come back to haunt him with the most attractive woman he had ever met. “I hope you aren’t disappointed in me, considering I’m not the mathematician you are. Also, there were many demands on my time when I wrote that.”
“I’m not disappointed.” She nodded. “Very few people are as intelligent as I am. I hope you are not sad; sometimes, it is hard for me to tell.”
Hope sprung anew, and he smiled. “On the contrary, you can never go wrong being honest with me.”
“Oh, good. In that case, I like you. Very much.”
Ben’s heart skipped a beat. OK, careful now. “Despite my inferior scholarship compared to you?” he teased with a smile.
“I am not bothered by that. You are very handsome and a hero.” She smiled at him.
The knowledge that was a frank statement threw Ben for a moment. He blushed and said, “Oh, ah, thank you, I’m not a hero.”
“I do not understand.” The smile disappeared again. “You received the Coast Guard Commendation Medal for saving three lives last year, and you just arrested a dangerous criminal.”
Ben had started stammering, then saw Simmons over Victoria’s shoulder, giving a thumb’s up and mouthing, “Take the Win.”
Suddenly, a couple of things were obvious. First, Victoria must have researched his background—he wasn’t wearing his uniform, so there was no other way she could know about his medal. Second, she was utterly honest and literal without nuance. Her critique of his report was not an expression of disappointment; it was a statement of fact, like identifying the color of paper on which it was printed. Likewise, the “aw shucks” modesty normally expected had no place here. There was no need to downplay actions or achievements; just lay out the facts. It was unique and the most delightful situation he had ever found himself in with a woman.
He described his life in the Coast Guard for almost two hours at her request. Despite the concentration required to make sure everything he said was logically consistent and idiom-free, he enjoyed this first conversation with the beautiful and attentive woman. They parted that night with a warm hug, and it delighted Ben to find Victoria even more beautiful the following day.
“Will you come and visit me in Bethesda?” she said to Ben after he placed her case in the car.
“Yes, I’d like that very much. But it might be some time. I can’t leave the area while Kauai is operational or in readiness, you understand.”
“Yes, I know,” she said and then kissed him on the cheek before driving off. The encounter left Ben reeling—even Simmons could see the young woman’s effect on him. As they continued on the search, he had a frank discussion with the young officer, pointing out the issues associated with carrying on a relationship with someone with even a mild form of autism, like Victoria’s. Not that he had any question of Ben’s integrity or other personal qualities. It was just the challenges that went with her condition. He had seen Victoria in other relationships, which had failed when what her partners initially regarded as eccentricities morphed in their minds into annoying tics. He was highly protective of her—she was the younger sister of his beloved late fiancée, and he didn’t want to see either of them hurt.
Ben took Simmons’s caution to heart. He had never known, much less been in a relationship with someone on the spectrum, and did not know how he would feel over time. He also appreciated that relationships with Coast Guard junior officers like himself brought plenty of their own challenges, even for someone without special needs. Then there was the distance—her duties with the DIA and challenges with public transportation limited her to the DC area. Finally, he was slammed with the demands of Kauai’s rebuild and the special training their new role required. As interesting as she was, Ben set out carefully. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.
They settled into a comfortable friendship supported by phone whenever he had the time and connectivity. He loved listening to Victoria’s voice’s deep and plummy timbre and the precision in her language as she excitedly described what details she could of her work. He wasn’t sharp enough to follow along with all the big-brain math she talked about, but he could hang in there enough to be a valuable sounding board.
On the other hand, he could talk about anything with her, and she listened intently, fascinated by his experiences with his job and coworkers. Whenever he called, she was there and thrilled to talk to him. She also understood the demands of his position and did not resent that sometimes there would be several days between phone calls and things he couldn’t discuss with her for operational security reasons. More than one of Ben’s earlier relationships had foundered on that very issue.
Over the two-and-a-half months since their meeting, their conversations became more and more precious for him. He missed them terribly whenever he was underway or otherwise tied up with an operational demand. He had never felt this way about anyone else and began thinking he might be falling in love with her.
*******************
The conversation was winding down as Ben finished the last of his supper. Sam concluded the impromptu dinner meeting with a positive thought: “A couple more days, guys, and then we’re off for home. No more speed runs, sound runs, turning around, and heading back to start because some egghead had the green-with-white wire patched into the white-with-green plug. Just good ol’ drug and migrant blockade for us, with the occasional rocket launch from the Cape.”
“Amen to that,” Hopkins said as she wiped her mouth. “I shudder, thinking what my boys have put over on their grandmother since we left.”
“Aw, MOM!” Ben said, getting hearty, tired laughs from the others, with Hopkins good-naturedly shaking a finger in his direction. He turned to Sam. “By your leave, Captain?”
“Off for the nightly call, Number One?” Sam asked.
“You know it.”
“Good on you. See you in the morning, everyone.”
They pushed away from the table, and Ben patted Hebert on the shoulder as he left the messdeck. “Merci beaucoups, Maître Cuisinier!”
“De rien, mon lieutenant!”
Ben shuffled up to his stateroom, closed the door, and sat at his mini desk. He looked longingly at the two pictures fastened securely to the ship’s bulkhead above his desk. Ben had taken the first one with his cell phone after he and Victoria dined at a pleasant restaurant on their first date. He was in a jacket and tie that night, while she wore a gorgeous green cocktail dress with her hair up. The second picture was a candid shot of Ben and Victoria strolling on the Washington DC Mall, taken by an aspiring photographer about a month ago. She held Ben’s arm and looked up at him with a bright smile as he looked at her, both in light jackets and jeans. In those everyday clothes, so different from the green dress, she conveyed a wholesome beauty every bit as alluring.
The pictures were artifacts of the only visits he had been allowed with her. He was going through an intense combat training course in Quantico, Virginia, preparing for Kauai’s new special operations role. It exasperated Ben to be so close to Victoria, a mere hour-and-a-half drive away, yet unable to pry out the time to be with her.
Finally, Ben had wrangled an evening off. It was the first time he had seen her since the Florida Keys operation, and as lovely as he had remembered her then, Ben was unprepared for what awaited him in Bethesda. Ben had always thought the expression “Breathtakingly beautiful” was hyperbole until experiencing it himself at his first sight of Victoria that night. She had to call his attention to the flowers he had bought for her, which snapped him out of his paralyzed state, starting the babbling phase, leading finally to a simple, “You look wonderful” after he pulled his head out of his ass. Not his smoothest moment, but she didn’t seem to mind—quite the contrary. After the awkward beginning, they recovered to their usual banter as the evening wore on over dinner. As pleasant as it was just hearing her voice, it was magic when combined with that gorgeous face and lovely eyes as emerald green as the dress. When they returned to the apartment at the end of the evening, Ben asked if he could take her picture. Victoria was terrifically self-conscious, and it took all the persuasion he could muster to get her to agree to pose. It was worth it, this and every time he could look at the picture and remember that first night.
The second visit occurred a couple of weeks later, an entire Sunday off, and Ben was determined to make the most of it. He drove up early in the morning, and they went out for breakfast and then spent the day at the museums around the Mall. Ben remembered little about the exhibits. He just enjoyed being with Victoria and seeing her fascination with them. He was surprised at the breadth of her knowledge and tastes—his previous experience with mathematical masters was confined to his professors at the academy, most of whom were one-dimensional people barely able to converse with someone outside their specialty. Unlike them, Victoria never held her encyclopedic knowledge over him. She didn’t seem to care a wit about how much he knew; she was just intensely interested in what he thought. It was a marvelous experience. The second picture happened afterward when they strolled on the Mall in the beautiful sunshine.
The day had a hiccup as they were leaving. They had taken the Metro subway system down to avoid wasting time on driving and parking. Metro traffic was light in the morning, and although Victoria was silent during the trip, Ben did not give it any thought. The trip back was a different story. The crowds were heavy and loud, and Victoria was clearly affected. It was the first time her condition had become an issue, and Ben was in a terrible plight. He had mild claustrophobia himself, and the noise and pressing in of the crowd was getting to him—it had to be far worse for her. He wanted to suggest they get off and take a cab, but was afraid of embarrassing her. Finally, her severe reaction to a child’s scream jolted Ben out of his indecision, and he immediately asked her if they could get off at the next stop. He was kicking himself on the inside all the way out of the station for letting her distress go on for so long, and was terrified that he had destroyed their wonderful day with his indecision. He was almost giddy with relief when Victoria hugged him gratefully after they got outside.
They had a wonderful dinner at an Italian restaurant across the street from the station. They completed the rest of the journey to the original Metro station by cab, with Victoria snuggled under his arm, her head on his shoulder. Then back to her apartment in his car. Unlike their earlier outing, Ben did not have to report back for training in Quantico until the following day. He desperately wanted to stay with her, but got hung up on how to ask. After the Metro near-miss, Ben was unsure how she would react and rationalized that he shouldn’t be pushing in just to take off in a few hours. After a very awkward goodbye, he was almost halfway to his car when he realized he could not just leave it like that and went back. Her joy when she opened the door was apparent, and their night together was warm and tender.
It was the most beautiful day of his life, and when they parted with a passionate kiss early the following day, he realized he was in love with her. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to tell her. Victoria was so honest with him about everything; he felt sure she would have shown some sign if the feeling was mutual—but she had not. Ben had decided it wasn’t fair to lay that on her on the way out the door. He had already pressed his luck and was afraid to risk driving her away and ending what they had.
He had accepted the satisfying but static relationship since, but having a gun pointed at him by a murderous criminal a week ago had changed the calculus. Ben had resolved to press his case to her directly, admit his love for her, and see where it led. But he needed to do it in person rather than by phone. Fortunately, Sam had agreed to cut him loose on several days of leave once they returned home from AUTEC—provided they received the promised operational stand-down.
He retrieved his cell phone from his desk and dialed Victoria’s number after turning it on and syncing to the patrol boat’s off-network Wi-Fi connection. As usual, she answered after two rings.
“Hello, Benjamin.”
Ben smiled, as he always did at her use of his full name and the quiet cheeriness of her greeting. “Hello, Victoria. How was your day?” It was the standard exchange at the beginning of their phone calls. Ben knew Victoria liked things a certain way and enjoyed obliging her.
“Oh, it was an exciting day. First...”
*******************
“... and so, seems we may wrap things up and head home in a couple of days,” Ben said.
“That is excellent news. I am concerned about your workload while you have been there. Do you think you and your crew will be granted relief when you return to Port Canaveral?” Victoria asked.
“Hopefully. That’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about. Sam has agreed to give me a few days of leave if we stand down. I would like to fly up there and spend it with you. Would you be agreeable to that and able to take leave yourself?”
“Oh, yes, that would be wonderful! I have an abundance of leave accumulated, and I am sure my supervisor would not object when I tell him it is for you.”
I am known around there? That’s an interesting revelation. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll let you know when I can nail down the dates.”
“Oh, good. I am very excited to be able to see you again. I hope it will be soon.”
“Me too. Well, I’m pretty tired, Victoria, and I have another long day tomorrow. Would it upset you if I asked to make this one of our shorter phone calls?”
“Of course not, Benjamin. I am very concerned you are not getting enough rest. Will you be able to call me tomorrow night?”
“If we are not on our way home, then definitely. Otherwise, I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“I am looking forward to that. Goodnight, Benjamin.”
“Goodnight, Victoria,” Ben said, hanging up the phone.
He looked at the pictures again, managed a wistful smile as he remembered the details, then turned off the phone. “Goodnight, my love. I’ll hold you again soon.”
