Please note, that there are some historical inconsistencies within the fic because I needed to grant myself some artistic license in order for this to work. The USS Seawolf is a real submarine (whose commanding officer is on Captain McCall … yes, really!) that was intended to the Cold War but was only deployed years after the war ended in 1997. In the US female sailors were not allowed to be on subs until 2011, but I waived that in favour of the female characters herein. My knowledge of submarines is very (very) limited, so please do forgive me if I misrepresented anything. The title is after the Robert Duncan song of the same name; it’s very military sounding and makes a dope workout song.
Fired Up (Feels Good)
[Beacon Hills Naval Port. Beacon County. California. 13:00]
The USS Seawolf is a beautiful thing. It’s three hundred and fifty feet of reinforced steel infused with the highest, most advanced technology that the United States can offer.
Derek stands on top of its sail as the boat navigates smoothly through the thick waters of Beacon Hills harbour. Derek’s team, a small collective of six sailors, tread carefully on the wet surface, making the final checks before the submarine is to be submerged completely.
The wind is brash, cold – splattering Derek’s face with fat rain droplets intermittently. His lips are chapped, his freshly shaved cheeks stinging red from exposure but Derek stands firm, watching as Reyes crosses the surface of the bow in wide strides, the rubber soles of her boots passing evenly over the washes of water on the metal.
Her hair, tied into its once perfect regulation bun, whips and frays around her face and neck in the strong wind. She peers up at him, gloved hands clinging to his as he pulls her up the last few steps of the ladder’s rungs.
“All done?” he says, raising his voice a little to be heard.