“Jezus,” Ellis muttered as the Japanese sub drifted overhead. He leaned over Jim’s shoulder to glance at the mini-sub’s instrument panel. “Jim, how the Hell did that...? Jim?”
Jim Lockhart was staring up at the sub, his hands gripping the steering yoke so hard his knuckles were white. The older man shook Jim’s shoulder vigorously.
“Jimmy!” Ellis hissed into his friend’s ear. “ We can’t stay here. They’ll spot us. Jim?”
Lockhart swallowed hard and shook his head slightly. When he spoke his voice was hushed.
“It’ll see us if we move. ”
“Jimmy, we’re in a bright red sub! We are going to die if we stay here.”
“No,” Jim snapped, the fear in his voice giving way to anger, an anger Ellis hadn’t known the mild mannered Lockhart was capable of. “Nobody else dies.”
“I like that plan,” Robbie muttered from where he was huddled in the back of the Torpedo.
As the larger sub slowly began to turn, the Torpedo was sheltered from view by the hulk of the wrecked ship. Jim flipped several switches and turned the steering yoke, causing the Torpedo to drift in the opposite direction. Jim cranked up the engines as the distance between the two subs widened and then angled them towards the surface. The sub’s engines whined in protest as it built up speed and then broke through the waves. Ellis was convinced they were airborne.
“Jimmy!” he shouted. “ Slow it down, man! You’re going to fry every bit of wiring if you don’t ease up!”
The Torpedo slowed down with a splash and limped back to shore. All three men staggered out onto the beach.
“Put her in the boat house,” Jim muttered as he walked to his cottage.
Ellis and Robbie glance anxiously at each other, then back at the retreating form of Jim Lockhart.
“Sometin’ very wrong bout all this,” Robbie muttered, shaking his head.
“I know,” Ellis replied, as they eased the mini-sub back into the boathouse. “For now, why don’t you go home, Robbie. Get some rest. I....?”
He looked over the cottage and shrugged.
“You look after Mister James,” Robbie said, nodding.

With the Torpedo stowed away, Robbie headed back to his family. Ellis waved to him from the porch, then sat in one of the wooden chairs, deep in thought.
There was more to all this then just the Japanese sub, as if that on its own wasn’t enough to have to deal with. Something had happened to Jim down there. Something connected to his ‘mysterious past’. Now it was up to Ellis to be the strong one or theywere in a great deal of trouble. He sighed, got up and strolled into the cottage. On the way through the kitchen, Ellis grabbed a bottle of rum and two glasses and went in search of his friend.
He found Jim perched on the edge of the bed, his face pale and slack, his eyes focused on the shaking hands clutched in his lap.
“Well,” Ellis said, sitting down next to Jim. Then realizing he had no idea what to say next, shrugged. Ellis poured a generous splash into both glasses and held one out to Jim, who nodded in thanks and slugged back the liquor.
“I...,” Jim started. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Being scared near to death?” Ellis asked gently. “ You weren’t alone in that, laddie. Let me tell you...”
“No, it’s just...,” Jim paused, then let out a deep, soulful sigh. “ You deserve to know the truth... about me, and maybe I need to tell somebody.”
He got up, and after grabbing a box from the closet walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
“What?” Ellis muttered in puzzled concern.
Several moments later the door opened and Jim stepped out. He now wore the crimson uniform, gunbelt and domino mask of the Red Torpedo.
“Jim...?” Ellis said.
“If the sub wasn’t enough of a giveaway, I’m the Red Torpedo.”
“Really?” Ellis said, weakly.
“You don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you?” Jim asked, his earlier emotional distress replaced by annoyance. “ I’m a Mystery man. I was one of the Freedom Fighters.”
“The heroes that fought the Japs in California?”
“Yes.”
“Did you really use trained bees to catch crooks?” Ellis asked.
“What?” Jim muttered, his shoulders slumping. “ That was the Red Bee! I have a mini-sub shaped like a torpedo and it’s red! Red Torpedo! How can you...? Oh, give me a drink.”
Ellis handed over the bottle and Jim gulped down several mouthfulls. Then he sat back down on the bed, shaking his head.
“Sorry,” Ellis mumbled sympathetically. “ I don’t... look at the papers, much. You had a Chinese sidekick, right?”
“ That’s the Crimson Avenger,” Jim grumbled, pushing his mask up to his forehead. “ Story of my life. They’re all dead and I thought somebody would remember. Somebody should remember! Somebody besides me.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon sharing the bottle as Jim told his story, of his humble beginings as a mysteryman, fighting crime, then being recruited by Uncle Sam into joining that first, doomed incarnation of the Freedom Fighters. The sun was sinking, touching the sea with crimson as Jim talked for the first time to another person of that fateful day in the Pacific...
“Goddamn,” Ellis said, slugging back the last drops of rum.
“Yeah,” Jim replied quietly. “And now, I’m here and it feels like it’s happening all over again.” His shoulders slumped.
“Look, I...” Ellis started, then shrugged. “ Okay, I won’t say I know how you feel, because we both know that’s bull, but we need to do something...”
“Do something? Like what?” Jim snapped, that anger back in his voice. “Look at us, for god sake! We can’t... I... we’ll let the authorities know. They can do something about it.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ellis said. “ The ‘authorities’ here consist of 20 volunteer soldiers with WW1 salvage weapons! Damnit, Jimmy, that was a Jap sub! That means it’s not about you and your friggin guilt over your dead friends. It means this whole damn island is in some serious goddamn danger. You gonna be able to tell any of those people out there, Ginny, Robbie, or Robbie’s kids that it’s not your problem because you decided to sit out the War!” Ellis stood and made his way for the bedroom door. “ No wonder you didn’t last long in the hero business. ”
The bottle shattered against the doorframe, inches from Ellis’ shoulder. He’d been expecting something like that, but still flinched. He’d figured Jim would just hit him.
Jim lunged, grabbed the older man by the back off the shirt and yanked him around.
“Bastard!” Jim rasped as his fist caught Ellis under the jaw. Ellis tumbled out into the hallway and landed on the floor with Jim in close pursuit. Ellis caught the next punch thrown and jabbed his free fist into Jim’s groin. Both men collapsed into a heap on the floor struggling to catch their breath.
“Got it all ... out of ... your system?” Ellis asked, breathlessly.
Jim nodded, retching and struggling to sit upright.
“Good. I’m getting too damn... ow ... old for this. Shame ... more people can’t just ... listen to reason.”
“You’re....ptiu...a natural born... huff... diplomat,” Jim muttered. “Damn, that hurts!”
“It’s supposed to, you jerk. Means I did it right.”
“Did you have to do it that right?” Jim asked, hoarsly, struggling to sit up. He leaned against the wall and took a couple deep breaths. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Ellis replied, staggering over to slump next to him. “ You been carrying that shit around inside you for a long time from the look of you. Some damn fool notion it was a burden to carry by yourself.”
“Yeah, maybe if I hadn’t,” Jim muttered. “ you and I could have talked without doing so much damage to each other.”
“I’ve had worse. You should see some of the arguments Mandy and I’ve...”
“The sorrid details of your love life can wait,” Jim said. “ we still have the little problem of a Japanese sub a long way from home to worry about.”
“Yeah. I was trying not to think bout it too much. What ‘re we gonna do?”
“Damned if I know. Even on my good heroing days, I never went up against anything that big. “
“Unfortunatly, we can’t wait for the cavalry,” Ellis told him. “We are the cavalry. What the Hell is a jap sub doing out here? How’d it get out this far?”
“We’ll play ‘Quiz Kids’ later,” Jim said, getting shakily to his feet. “ Right now, I need to get some ice for my... wounds. Can you take a look at the Torpedo, see how much damage I did to her?”
“Sure,” Ellis said, standing and giving Jim a hand up.

A couple hours later, Jim had returned the costume to the bottom of his closet, applied some ice to his wounds and was sitting on the back porch, peering intently at the ocean, deep in thought. Ellis had made a list of repairs needed on the sub, then gone off to see what he could scrounge in the way of parts, help, and a replacement for the bottle Jim had broken.
Ellis was going to hunt up the parts they needed. He’d then send Robbie and the parts back to Jim and the two men would get to work on the sub. Ellis would make his way up into the hills and using some binoculars Jim had stashed in the Torpedo, try and spot the sub. It was a long shot, but in as much as the Torpedo was low on fuel and in rough shape they needed to narrow down thier search area as much as possible.
After several hours, Ellis made his way back to Jim’s cottage, making a few stops along the way to listen to the local gossip and take care of his parched throat.
“How goes it, gentlemen?” he asked.
“Good as can be expected,” Jim replied. “ Any luck?”
“None good. Not a damned sign of it.”
“How is that possible?” Jim asked. “ Thing that big. No mention of it in local gossip. Where do you hide something that big?”
“Lots of little islands around here...”
“Wit’ people living on them,” Robbie mentioned. “people that like to talk.”
“Then we’re stuck.” Ellis muttered, leaning against the Torpedo.
“They can’t stay submerged forever,” Jim said, starting to pace. “ and any island they landed on would notice...”
“Maybe they locked up the locals,” Ellis suggested. “some of those islands only have a dozen people on them...”
“Fishing boats go all over,” Robbie said. “ they notice if the people missing.”
“So where...?” Jim said.
“Ever’s Rock,” Robbie exclaimed, startling the other two men.
“What?”
“Ever’s Rock,” Ellis replied. “that big hunk of rock, ‘bout seven miles out. Place is barren, except for seagulls.”
“And it’s shaped like a horseshoe,” Robbie added, tracing the shape in the air with his finger.
“A natural cove,” Jim said. “Sounds like our best bet. Lets go hunting.”

By the next morning the repairs to the Torpedo were as complete as they could make them, and the crew set out.
Jim Lockhart went into the little cabin, and ten minutes later, the Red Torpedo emerged.
“Holy Toledo,” Robbie muttered upon spotting the new arrival. “ Mister James is the Firebrand!”
“Shhh,” Ellis said, coming up behind him. “ He’s the Red Torpedo and he’s also a mite touchy bout it. Humor him, it’s been a rough day.”
Ellis walked over, meeting the Torpedo halfway to the mini-sub.
“ Getting a bit over dramatic, ‘bout this ain’t you?” he said, glancing at the outfit.
“Figure I might as well do it up right,” Jim said, adjusting his belt. “ Whether anybody remembers my name or not, I’m a mystery man. If I’m going out...”
“What is that?” Ellis asked. “ Going out? Niether Robbie and I signed up for a suicide run.”
“ Neither did I, but lets be realistic. We are taking on a Japanese sub, armed with a leaky, bright red mini-sub. The guns have maybe half a round left and there’s one torpedo in the launch tube. What kind of odds would they give us down at the barber shop?”
“Not good. I see your point, just needed to hear that you’re hoping to live through the trip.”
“ Come on,” Jim said, throwing an arm around the older man’s shoulder, “ Let’s go be heroes.”
“ Do Robbie and I get masks too?”
“Yeah, and a Jr. Torpedo decoder ring.”

The water was just as blue and clear as on the last trip, but the faces that peered out the port holes wore nervous expressions.
“Seals are holding,” The Red Torpedo muttered. “ I’m taking her down another hundred feet.”
“Take it slow,” Ellis said. “It’s gonna get rocky as we get closer to Ever’s.”
Jim nodded and pushed forward on the steering yoke. The mini-sub descended, then leveled out, only a few feet from the bottom of the ocean.
“Over there,” Robbie said. “ those rocks. That’s Ever’s.”
Jim slowed the Torpedo down, letting it drift with the currents as they all peered anxiously out at the wall of rock before them.
“What now?” Jim asked. “where do we start?”
“I dunno know,” Ellis said. “ but go slow. It’s still daylight topside. They are probably submerged.”
“What’s that?” Robbie said, pointing, his eyes big as baseballs.
“Where?” Jim asked, his right hand reaching for the gun controls.
Ellis scrambled over to Robbie’s porthole and scanned the water.
“What the hell...?” he muttered. “ Jim, there’s oil in the water.”
“Oil?”
“It’s swirling around with the current, but if it’s from the Jap sub...”
“Then not only are they damaged, but they left us a trail of breadcrumbs to follow,” Jim finished. “I’m taking us around. Ellis, prime the launch tube. Just in case.”
“Mister James, if they’re leaking oil, then maybe they’re just hiding to fix it then go on their way.” Robbie said.
“But how the hell did they get here?” Ellis asked. “That’s the part that makes no sense.”
“One thing at a time,” Jim muttered. “let’s find them, then we can ask what their intentions are.”
“You’re getting awfully glib about this.” Ellis commented.
“If the Torpedo had a bed built in it, I’d gladly go hide under it,” Jim replied. “I thought I’d put on a brave front. Once we’re back on the shore I’ll..., I think we got something.”
Ellis and Robbie crowded forward to peer over Jim’s shoulder through the front viewport.
“Oh my,” Robbie muttered.
The horseshoe shape of Ever’s cove extended all the way to the ocean floor, making it feel as if the Torpedo was cruising into an undersea arena. Walls of rocks rose on either side, and floating roughly fifty feet below was the still form of the Japanese sub. A thin trail of oil seeped upwards from a visible gash in its side, about halfway down it’s massive hull. The propellors turned lazily, just running enough to fight the current and keep the sub from drifting into the rocks.

“Something fishy here,” Jim muttered. “ look at the size of that hole.”
“They should be leaking more?” Robbie asked.
“They should be on the bottom,” Jim replied. “ with their mid-ship flooded. There’s no way they could have sealed compartments fast enough.”
“Maybe it’s some kind of prototype,” Ellis suggested. “This may be a test run of some kind.”
“You really believe that?”
“No, but I’m running out of sensible ideas and just spouting whatever pops into my head at this point.”
“ As tempted as I am to just torpedo it,” Jim muttered. “something about this bugs me. I need to get a closer look.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Ellis said. “ Just blow the bastard up so we can go home.”
“No, something is going on here. If we use the diving gear, we can slip up closer and...”
“We? “ Ellis sputtered. “You want me to swim up to a Jap sub and peek inside? Is your mask on too tight? That is the...”
“I’ll go wit Mister James,” Robbie volunteered, quietly.
Both men turned to peer at Robbie. Ellis in disbelief, Jim with surprised gratitude.
“What? Why?” Ellis sputtered. “ Robbie, this is...”
“I know, but maybe Mis-ter James is right. Besides, I swim better than Mis-ter Ellis, and if some-ting go wrong, I can’t steer this sub to go for help.”
“Thanks Robbie,” Jim said. “Grab the air tanks out of the locker and we’ll get ready to go.”
“I don’t like this,” Ellis muttered. “ but since nobody’s listening to reason, what do you want me to do?”
“Stay here and keep an eye on things,” Jim said as he squeezed past Ellis to help Robbie. “If it all goes south, run like hell and get in touch with the Navy or somebody.”
The diving gear consisted of air tanks and face masks. Jim had a pair of red flippers, while Robbie merely kicked his sandals off.
“ Just make sure you go quick out that back hatch,” Eliis said, as he slipped into the driver’s seat. “ we never got around to replacing the seals.”
“Yes, Mom,” Jim replied smirking. The smile faded as he turned back to Robbie and handed him one of his .45s. “You ever shoot one of these?”
“My brother and I shoot at cans out at his place sometimes.”
“People make a bigger target .” Ellis told him.
“Yeah, but cans don’t bleed,” Robbie replied, anxiously.
“We aren’t going in guns blazing,” Jim reassured him. “but, just in case...”
Robbie nodded, tucked the gun into the waistband of his shorts and headed for the rear hatch of the Torpedo.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Ellis muttered.
“Me too,” Jim replied, slipping the air tank onto his shoulders.

The two men scrambled out the rear hatch and into the warm, blue water. They floated for a moment, getting used to the airtanks and double checking their straps and gauges, then swam towards the Japanese sub. It was a massive craft, comparing it to the Torpedo was like comparing goldfish and sharks. That’s what it was, a shark, a sleeping predator, and Jim was painfully aware there was a very good chance that it could wake up at any moment.
He and Robbie made thier way cautiously toward the gash in the sub’s side and paddled along it’s length, examining the damage. The hole measured a good ten feet long and almost half that wide, the edges were jagged, but there was enough room for a man to slip in through the gash and avoid it’s ‘teeth’. Peering inside, Jim saw that the compartment was flooded and unlike the interior of any submarine he’d ever seen before. Submarines are crowded places, you have to jam it full of everything it’ll require to run smoothly, leaving little space for the crew. Roomy was not a word ever used when discussing subs, but this one was. The chamber was wide, slightly curved and aside from the sea water, empty. Just bare metal floor, walls and ceiling.
Jim eased into the flooded room and paddled over to the metal door. There was a round window, roughly the size of a baseball set into the steel door. Peering through it, Jim’s forehead wrinkled in puzzlement at the chamber beyond. It looked like a wide corridor of some kind, but like the room he was in, it was also just bare steel with about a foot of water on the floor.
Jim shook his head in confusion, then swam back to the gash. He waved at Robbie to join him and both men swam over to the door. It took Jim a couple minutes of vague sign language to explain to Robbie how they could force the door open and get into the chamber beyond. It was a struggle, fighting the water presssure as well as picking the lock on the door, but ten minutes later, both men lay in a soggy heap in the next section of the sub. Robbie eased the door closed, to keep the new room from flooding while Jim investigated. The outer wall was made of heavy steel plates weilded together, bare of any pipes, gauges or other equipment that was common place on most submarines.The interior wall was a shiney, bronzed color, and when Jim rested his hand against it, he could feel the hum of machinery.
“What the hell...?” he muttered, looking around. “ It can’t be...”
“What?” Robbie whispered, staggering over. “ What’s going on?”
Jim pointed up, and Robbie tilted his head to glance at the ceiling. It reached up above the two men’s heads, then curved upwards.
“It’s a shell,” Jim explained. “ A metal shell made to look like a jap sub, built around a mini-sub like mine. That’s why it didn’t sink. Only this outer chamber took on any water.”
“So, if it’s not Japs, who’s drivin this t’ing?” Robbie asked, scratching at his cheek.
“Somebody who wants people to think it’s Japanese,” Jim explained, pushing his scuba mask up to his forehead, then drawing his gun. “ Come on, let’s see if we can have a quick peek at the crew.”
“What? But, Mis-ter James...?”
“Relax Robbie, it’s a mini-sub. There can’t be more then six men running it and they don’t even know we’re here.”
“Actually,” said a gruff, accented voice behind them. “ Ve do know.”
The new arrival was a short, solidly built man with close cropped blonde hair, cold, grey eyes and no visible neck. He wore a grimy military coverall and clutched a pistol in one hand.
Jim and Robbie froze as the blonde man gave them a menacing once over.
“You vill find,” he muttered, darkly, “ that ve do not appreciate uninvited guests.”
Jim stepped, quickly between the gun and Robbie, then quickly swung his own gun around till it was pressed up against the sub’s wall.
“Take it easy, Fritz,” Jim said, in his best tough guy voice. “ or I’ll turn this room into a sieve.”
“You don’t dare!”
“If it means I take all of you with me, I do dare.”
“Uhhh...?” was all Robbie could get out, before shock took away his ability to articulate.
“Now, why don’t you fetch the man in charge so the adults can talk this over.”
The blonde man stood his ground for several long, tense moments, then with a snort of disgust backed away to a door at the far end of the room.
“Phew,” Jim sighed, once the gunman was out of sight.
“Uh, Mis-ter James...?” Robbie tried again.
“Okay, Robbie, here’s the deal. Stay close and follow my lead. I am going to do all I can to see you and I get to tell this story to our grandkids, but it’s gonna be tight.”
“Okay,” Robbie replied, straighting his shoulders and tightening the grip on his gun. “ But, dat fella wasn’t no Japanese. What’s going on?”
“ Let’s get out of here first. Just remember, if I tell you to run, do it. We don’t have much time.”
“How come? We sinking?”
“No, Ellis is going to torpedo this hulk if we don’t give him a signal in an hour.”
“What? How you know that?”
“Because that’s what the note I left him tells him to do. We can’t let these guys get away.”
“Shit.”
“My thought exactly,” Jim muttered.” Here it comes”
Footsteps echoed towards them acompained by snatches of angry conversation in German, as three men came round the corner. The group consisted of a tall, thin balding man, bookended by their original blonde aquaintance and another equally gruff looking man. Both had guns drawn.
“Vas ist...?” the older man said, then stopped in surprise. “ Herr Lockhart?”
“What?” Jim exclaimed. “How do you know me, Mister...?
“Schefielstien,” the older man said, enthusiastically. “We met briefly at the conference in Opal city in ‘37, I believe it was, and I have followed your work on submarine technology as well as your crime-fighting career. Your attire, while quite dramatic, is not the most effective disguise.”
“Well, Herr Schefielstien, we seem to have a problem,” Jim said, nodding towards his gun, still pressed against the sub wall.
“Yes, my men mentioned that. I hope we can solve this in a civil manner.”
“I’m willing to be reasonable,” Jim replied.
“Ach, gott, I think...”
“That’s why I’m going to give you and your crew time to evacuate before I sink your sub.”
“What?!”
“I know what you’re up to and I’m putting a stop to it,” Jim explained, grimly. “Your choice on who survives.”
“And vhat, may I ask,” the blonde man snarled, “ is to stop us from shooting you and continuing on our mission?”
“I think my friend and I can do enough damage even if you try to kill us.”
“ less you boys real good swimmers.” Robbie added, pointing his gun at the floor.
“I see,” Schefielstien muttered, shaking his head sadly. “Such a waste.”
“Subs come and go,” Jim told him.
“I was talking of human life actually. Karl, shoot them.”
“I hate when they try and call my bluff,” Jim muttered, then fired three times. Twice into the wall, once at the knees of the nearest German. Karl went down, clutching at his leg. Jim tried to keep Robbie behind him, as his Red Torpedo uniform would offer more protection against bullets than a pair of shorts and a dirty tee-shirt. He staggered back, pushing Robbie towards the door as he fired.
Bullets flew past Jim’s head and two unlucky ones grazed his side. It hurt like hell, but didn’t break the cloth or skin. He and Robbie had a slight advantadge, in that they wanted to sink the sub so could shoot wildly. The room had already spouted several minature fountains from the walls and ceiling. Jim staggered and fell as a spurt of sea water caught him in the face at the same time a bullet caught him in the shoulder. With that move, Robbie’s shield was gone.
The next two bullets slammed into his shoulder and chest, and Robbie dropped onto the drenched floor, right into Jim’s path. Both men fell, ending up slumped against the wall.
“Damnit,” Jim muttered, as the Germans approached, taking careful aim to avoid any more damage to their sub. “Sorry, Robbie, I thought I’d be able to get you out of this alive.”
“Ain’t dead yet,” was the mumbled reply.
“What?”
“Open de’ door, Mis-ter James.” Robbie shakily raised his gun hand and put his remaining bullets into the floor of the sub. The sudden on-rush of water sent the Germans flailing back, their shots going wild and adding to the damage.
Weak from his own wounds and now lugging the barely conscious Robbie, Jim struggled towards the door leading back into the flooded chamber. Firing off a final shot, he grabbed the handle and yanked it open. A wave filled the doorway, rushing out at the two wounded men. Jim managed to pull Robbie aside, letting the Germans take the full brunt of the water. Slinging Robbie over his shoulder and making sure his friend had his mouthpiece in place, Jim dove into the wave and the room beyond. It was then that he discovered that one of the shots had damaged his own airtank, a steady stream of bubbles came rushing out of a puncture in the tank. Jim struggled for breath as he swam towards the opening in the hull.
As they squeezed through the hole a jagged stalagtite of metal sliced through Jim’s calf.
It’s official, he thought, God hates me.
Jim took the mouthpiece from Robbie and gulped in some oxygen, then gave it back and began to frantically swim. He couldn’t see the Torpedo ( weapon or mini-sub) but hoped if he swam away from the German sub, Ellis would spot them and rush to their rescue. As he struggled feebly along, Jim noticed two things, the German sub was sinking faster and there was a blur of movement off to the right.
Come on Ellis, save the day.
He soon realized that the moving object was too small to be his mini sub. It was a red torpedo with a small ‘T’. Instead of the kind that transports hurt and weakened mystery men to saftey, it was the kind that blows up on impact, ending the careers of weak and battered mystery men.
Sorry Robbie, Jim thought, seconds before he was slammed against a wall of pain....

Against his better judgement, Jim opened his eyes.
He saw the ceiling fan spinning lazily above his head, just like the one in his bedroom.
“Huh?” was the best he could come up with.
“Morning,” a voice off to the right said, which worried Jim because if he was dead, then God sounded just like...
“Ellis?” Jim muttered, struggling to sit up.
The older man was sitting on a chair in the corner of Jim’s bedroom, a glass in one hand a book in the other.
“Was starting to wonder if I was going to have to find a prince to come in here and kiss you to get you to finally wake up.”
“Just as long as you don’t volunteer for the job,” Jim replied. “ never liked men with beards.”
“You must be feeling better. You’re starting to think you’re funny again. How you feeling?”
“Like I was used to mop a barroom floor,” Jim said, rubbing a hand across his bruised and scruffy face. “How long I been out? What happened?”
“Nearly two days and Hell if I know. I was sitting in the Torpedo, a mite bothered by that note you left me...”
“I know, sorry.”
“When the other sub starts to sink, I spot you two, shoot off the torpedo, just to play it safe and as I’m pulling you and Robbie outta the water, the blondest Jap I ever saw goes tumbling past the porthole. What happened? Robbie told me some, but..”
“Robbie! He’s all right?”
“Banged up a bit. His wife and brother helped me patch you two up, then took him home. That woman’s got a tongue on her. I’m thinking it’ll be awhile ‘fore Robbie is allowed to come out and play with us. So, spill it, that wasn’t a Jap sub at all, was it?”
“Nope. Far as I can piece together, the German’s got themselves a mini-sub, built a shell around it, to make it look like a Japanese submarine. Then they snuck it down here.”
“Why? What were they up to?”
“I’m guessing they were heading up towards the US. People are pretty twitchy after Pearl Harbor, so...”
“A Jap sub showing up off the coast of Florida would set off a panic.”
“Taking the heat off the Germans, as the US rushes troops to the Paciffic to deal with the bigger threat, and possibly making it easier for Hitler’s boys to strenghten their hold on Eurorpe.”
“Damn. You trying to tell me we just saved the war effort?” Ellis asked, wide-eyed.
“Something like that, maybe. What are you drinking?”
“Does it matter?” Ellis replied holding out the glass.
“Not with the way I feel right now, no,” Jim said, swigging it down. “ What worries me is we don’t know if the sub was on its own or if there’s a secret base somewhere out there waiting for them to report back in.”
“Great, one more thing to worry bout,” Ellis said.
“Yeah, sorry. Seems like we ended this great money-making scheme worse off than we started.”
“You’re gonna go back to that ‘woe is me’ crap, again? You and Robbie will heal, and the Torpedo came through with hardly a scratch...”
“And we are still broke,” Jim reminded him.
“Yeah, but we happen to know the location of both a wreck from the 1700s and a ton of salvagable scrap metal.”
“True,” Jim smirked. “and if we’re lucky some servicable parts for a mini-sub.“ He held out the glass for a refill. Ellis obliged him.
“One thing I still don’t get,” Ellis muttered while he poured.
“What’s that?”
“After you got clobbered by the Japs, way back when, how the hell did you get all the way from the Pacific coast to Kinja?”
“I was kinda wondering when you’d ask about that.”
“Well?”
“Long story for another day,” Jim told him with a smile, as he sank back against his pillow.
Ellis frowned and took his glass back.
“You’re gonna be that way you can get your own damn drink.”