Brandy gave him a big hug and kiss. “Oh, Jason. I can hardly believe it!” She stopped and looked at him. “But we’re miles from anywhere. Who will marry us?”
“I’m a ship’s captain, right?” Jason said. “I will preside." He knew he wasn’t actually qualified to marry anyone, but he figured what Brandy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Aaron had heard about captains marrying people and he was pretty sure it wasn't legally binding back in the States. But he’d also heard of an unwritten law that said if you truly think you’ve been married, you have, and he had no reason to believe otherwise.
Jason looked at him. “Aaron will be our witness.”
“Awesome!” Aaron said, truly happy for them. “Do you have a ring?”
Jason reached into his pocket and produced a ring box with two rings and a slip of paper. He gave the rings to Aaron and faced Brandy, reading from the prepared notes.
“Do you, Brandy Fine, take me, Jason Beckham, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Brandy paused for a moment; it all seemed rushed and very unromantic, not at all what she'd dreamt it would be. She searched Jason for the faintest sign of true love, but it wasn't there. She couldn't see herself in his eyes.
The idea of marriage suddenly felt trite: the vows, the rings, the kiss. More than ever before, she deeply regretted never having had the chance to marry Johnny Souther. In spite of his faults, he had loved her truly. And she had loved him.
She began to wonder what she'd been thinking, going on this wild adventure with a man who didn’t love her. And did she love Jason enough to be a good wife for him? Even if the feelings weren’t mutual? She wasn’t sure. But she had nowhere else to go, nothing else to live for. She may as well take a chance on being Mrs. Jason Beckham.
“I do,” she said at last, adding a brief, silent prayer.
Jason gestured for her to continue.
“What? Oh — um, do you, Jason Beckham, take me, Brandy Fine, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
She waited, smiling to herself, savoring the moment she’d yearned for her whole life.
“I do,” Jason said.
Brandy searched his eyes. Do you mean it, Jason? Is there even a small part of you that means it?
Aaron handed them the rings and the newlyweds placed them on each other's fingers.
I will pretend that he loves me, Brandy thought. Where is it written that I can’t pretend?
“I now pronounce us husband and wife,” Jason said.
“You may kiss the bride,” Aaron added.
Brandy giggled and closed her eyes again, and then she and Jason kissed.
~ PART II ~
Chapter 32
It was early afternoon on a Friday when at last Jason, Brandy, and Aaron left Mexican waters and crossed into the United States, about 3 miles offshore. The trip had taken longer than planned — with the delays in Costa Rica and Panama, and refueling issues in Cabo San Lucas — and they were running late.
They cruised a short way up the coast of California with Jason pointing out the San Diego headquarters of the U.S. Navy Seals and the Hotel Del Coronado which could be seen just east of their position, on the south side of Coronado Island.
Jason recalled a story about a famous long-time resident of the hoteclass="underline" the ghost of Kate Morgan.
“I believe it was November 24th, 1892,” he explained, “A woman named Kate Morgan checked into room 304, now 3327, to meet her husband… but he never arrived. Five days later she was found dead on the steps leading to the beach. They determined she had shot herself. However, it was reported that during the coroner's inquest, the bullet found in Kate’s head did not match that of her own gun — but that was never proven. And since that day, guests who have checked into room 3327 have frequently reported ghost sightings and other paranormal events.”
“Remind me not to stay in that room," Aaron said.
“Me, too,” Brandy said.
“Many famous people have stayed at the Hotel Del,” Jason said. "Thomas Edison and Marilyn Monroe to name just two.”
Jason prepared to sail through the entrance to San Diego Bay. "Would you like to take the helm?” he asked Aaron.
"Sure," Aaron said, surprised. Jason had never let him near the wheel this close to shore before. But he was confident he could handle it.
“Pay attention to the channel markers,” Jason said. “Red, right, returning."
Aaron was familiar with the mnemonic and quickly spotted the buoys.
"The nuclear submarine base is on the west side of the channel, and North Island is to the east, to starboard,” Jason said. “These are restricted areas.”
“What happens if we enter a restricted area?” Brandy asked.
“They U.S. Navy will blow us out of the water,” Jason said. "No questions asked."
Brandy's eyes went wide at that thought.
“Duly noted,” Aaron said, and then he carefully guided the Cayman Jewel through the narrow channel entrance to San Diego Bay.
“That’s Naval Air Station North Island to starboard, on Coronado Island. To port is Naval Base Point Loma, one of America's largest and most tactically important nuclear submarine bases. Its facilities include the Fleet Antisubmarine Warfare Training Center, Fleet Combat Training Center Pacific, and Space and Naval Warfare Systems Command, among others.”
Aaron was impressed but disappointed that the awesome submarines were hidden from his view by some kind of huge floats.
“Follow the channel as it turns east,” Jason said. “After Harbor Island, roughly nine nautical miles east of here, we'll jog north again. We’re heading for the A-9 Cruiser Anchorage, for 'out of town' boats like ours. It'll be off your port bow, just south of the U.S. Coast Guard Station, across from the Maritime Museum of San Diego.”
Aaron nodded and took them the rest of the way in.
As they approached the anchorage, they passed the MMSD on their right.
Jason pointed out one of the submarines on exhibit at the museum. "That’s b-39, code name Cobra," he said. “That's why I’m here.”
Brandy looked down at the 284-foot hunk of black iron moored at the dock along side the museum. “We sailed all the way here for that?” she said. The submarine had obviously seen better days and looked very unsafe.
“She’s a former Soviet attack sub,” Jason said. “A Foxtrot-class hunter killer. She’s about to undergo a top to bottom restoration, and I’ve been hired as a technical consultant."
Aaron glanced down at the submarine, hoping to see it close up later. Then he concentrated on his job at the helm, carefully guiding the Cayman Jewel into the anchorage.
Jason tied up at a mooring buoy and joined the others on deck. “Talk about cutting it close,” he said, checking his watch. “It’s 3:45 p.m. I’m scheduled to meet Uri Ruden on board Cobra at 4:00.”
He looked at Aaron. “Captain Ruden is one of the Russian submariners who actually piloted Cobra during the Cold War back in the Seventies. Would you like to meet him and check out the sub?”
“Hell, yeah,” Aaron said.
Jason turned to Brandy. “The mooring office will be expecting us to contact them for an inspection and a permit. Their phone number is up on the chart table. We shouldn't be long.”