Eric Beale found the letter waiting for him when he came home from a long day at OSP. He dreaded opening it, but knew he had to.

He was one of the top computer experts at NCIS, attached the LA office under Henrietta Lange. He was the member of the team that helped fight crime through his skills on the computer. But for the past two years he was fighting another battle, all on his own, and it was one that he was losing. The letter confirmed it. The new drug they had put him on was ineffective.

He had rheumatoid arthritis (RA). It began with the pain and fatigue in his knees. His surfing helped relieve those symptoms. But now it was working his way into his fingers. He began to worry how long it would be before everyone else noticed that his speed on the keyboard was beginning to drop, especially late in the day when his fingers ached so much from the constant use.

He tried to fight it. He met regularly with a rheumatologist in Glendale. The group medical plan was with the UCLA Med Center, but this was something he did not want on his record. For a short time the meds he was prescribed kept the disease from advancing. But it was only a short lull in the battle. He even went on an "arthritis diet" for three months, but that didn't help.

He thought he was found out when Hetty brought in Nell Jones as his assistant. Eric figured that Hetty knew about his problem because Hetty always knew everything that went on at OSP. Surely the old ninja had brought Nell in to train as his replacement and as soon as his performance dropped to an unacceptable level, she would be in and he would be out - as in no longer part of the team. Nell seemed pleasant enough and Eric regretted how short he was with her those first couple of weeks they worked together. The analyst was smart, maybe even more intelligent than he was. It wouldn't be long before Hetty could drop him from the team, maybe even from NCIS.

If that would happen, he would lose his medical coverage. Even with the President's healthcare initiative, he wondered whether he could afford to pay for his care. He could rent himself out as a hacker, but the kids that were dropping out of school these days could do jobs like that more than twice as fast as he could. As his disease would slowly progress he would gradually get slower and slower and that would slowly kill him. He became obsessed with his future. How could he earn enough money long-term to care for himself as the RA would finally stiffen his fingers?

He remembered something Deeks had said last summer when they were surfing together. It was just a random thought, but maybe Eric could make it work. Deeks had complained how much trouble it was to store your board and carry it from the car to the beach and back. How great it would be if someone could design an inflatable surfboard that would be as responsive as the fiberglass boards. They made inflatable paddle boards, why not a surfboard?

Eric started to research this concept on his own time. He found some new types of plastics that were being developed by the Plastics Research and Education Center at Ball State University. They could meet and exceed the specifications that he needed to produce his boards.

He found an empty warehouse that could be converted to a production floor. Machinery could be brought in and production could start as soon as he could get everything ready.

There was only one thing he lacked - money to set things up. Eric knew that you needed green to make green, and the whole setup price would be about one and a half million. But once they were in production, he would be set with an income for life.

How could he get a large amount of money quickly? Go with your strength - the internet. He often said that he could write a book on tips to use the internet. And it wouldn't be a scam, like the ones his father told him about - the one hundred page book about learning how to be a ventriloquist that was sold for a quarter. That is exactly what they sent you, a total of one hundred pages - Ninety-nine blank pages and one that said, "don't move your lips."

He started writing his book one Friday night. By Monday morning he had 345 pages. It would have been more, but he decided that if he included the chapter "How to Break the Internet" it might somehow conflict with the national security papers he signed when Hetty first offered him the job at NCIS. Eric didn't know what scared him more, having Hetty angry and taking out her revenge on him or the possibility of being sentenced to live in a federal prison and having to rely on prison doctors to treat him for the rest of his life. That was a lie. Hetty scared him more by far. But neither of those prospects appealed to him, so he left all that information out.

Eric figured that he would charge ten dollars for each book and set up a program where the information would automatically deposit the money in his MeyeMoney account. The only thing he had left to do was to write the launch program. He had several different ideas, but the one he settled on was the simplest.

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With all the programs written and everything ready to go by Wednesday night, Eric crossed his fingers and pressed the button to launch his internet enterprise. There was nothing more for him to do, so he shut down his computer and went to bed.

The next morning he checked his MeyeMoney account before he left for work. He was pleased to see that his account was gaining funds so quickly that the numbers were spinning like he dials on a slot machine. A huge smile came across his face. He no longer had to worry about his RA. Everything would be taken care of.

Hetty was walking to her office when he arrived at the Mission. She turned to face him and said, "Mr. Beale, a word? It would seem that I received this note in my e-mail today that I would like to discuss with you." Hetty had a scowl on her face and both eyebrows were lowered into her gorgon glare.

Oops. Eric gulped. He knew he couldn't get away with it. He knew by the tone of her voice that he no longer had to worry about his RA ever again. Even though he appeared to be alive he was so dead and buried that an archeological expedition five thousand years in the future would not ever find him. Because she was Hetty and she could do anything.