****************************8
"Boss, I think we found something," McGee said as both he and Ziva entered the bullpen together.
Tony looked up from his screen. They were excited and he had to admit that he'd like nothing more than to have a lead to run down. Before joining his colleagues at the plasma, he minimized his screen, sending a photo of the USS O'Kane down to his task bar.
Ziva began, "We talked to her fiancé, Melvin Morales, and he said they were having a destination wedding in Hawaii. Three weeks ago, he and Mandy Barnes took a weekend trip to Honolulu to check out the resort, The Colony by the Sea."
"I know that place," Will said, "very popular for weddings and corporate parties."
Tony cast him a sideways glance while images of Michelle popped into his head.
McGee pushed the other victims' faces to the screen and asked, "You'll never guess who else went to The Colony by the Sea? All three of the previous victims spent time there. Our first victim went as an attendant in her friend's wedding, our second victim attended as a guest of the groom, and the third victim…well, we're still trying to figure out her connection."
"That's good work," Gibbs said, and then he paused waiting for them to anticipate his requests.
McGee piped up first, "I'm finding out the connection between our third victim and the resort."
Ziva came in next, "Pulling records on all employees of the resort, past and present."
Tony added, "Cross checking other potential people and activities that they may have come in contact with at the resort, Boss."
Will and Gibbs were the only ones left standing, and when Gibbs looked at him expectantly, Will stuttered for the right words.
Tony enjoyed watching the newbie squirm and was anxious to hear what Gibbs was going to have him do, but Gibbs only motioned with his finger and said, "Come on, you're with me." Annoyed, Tony followed them until they disappeared out of sight. Then, even after they were gone, he continued to stare down the corridor in their direction.
"What is the matter, Tony?" Ziva said. "Are you still jealous?"
"I am not jealous."
"Have you heard anything about his date with Michelle?"
Tony had no interest in discussing Cahoon's date with Michelle but he did have another question for McGee. "No," he said to her and then turned sideways to face Tim. "What do you know about Navy Destroyers?"
McGee was taken aback by the question, "Does this have anything to do with our case?"
"Yes."
Ziva narrowed her eyes when she recognized something in her partner. "No it doesn't. You have been snooping around Special Agent Cahoon's desk!"
"Maybe."
"Tony," Tim shook his head at the blatant display of envy, "this behavior is very unbecoming of a federal agent."
"Just answer the question, McChild of a Navy Admiral. What do you know about USS Navy Destroyers?"
Realizing the question wasn't going away, he answered, "There are three classes of ships, primarily designed to drop torpedoes near much larger ships and dart away. Used very successfully during World War Two. Why do you want to know about Navy Destroyers?"
"Do they do other things besides drop torpedoes?"
"They could. They're fast, travelling up to 30 knots. Again, why do you want to know this?"
Tony shrugged, "Don't worry your pretty little computer chip. Nice work, by the way, on connecting our victim to the resort. I have to see Ducky."
And just like that he was gone, leaving Ziva and McGee to look quizzically at one another.
*******************************************8
"Ah, Antony, what brings you down to Autopsy?"
"Just wondering if Mandy Barnes told you anything we don't already know?"
Ducky looked up from the corpse he was currently examining and studied the agent a beat. The pitfalls of being a psychological profiler is that you can spot a fraud a mile away, and Ducky was very good at profiling people. "As yet, no. But Abby's running the samples I sent her and you should have something when she's done."
Tony wandered around the body of Mandy Barnes, thinking, but not about her or the case.
"What's on your mind, Anthony?"
"What makes you think something's on my mind?"
"Well, the last thing I did last night was to update you on my findings. Not much has changed in the two business hours that have elapsed since then. Yet you are wandering around my body like a caged cat. Why is that?"
Tony scratched his ear, wondering if coming down here was such a good idea. "Well, it's this new guy, Will Cahoon. What do you know about him?"
"Not much. He seems capable, not at all squeamish when it comes to appreciating my work. Seems to ask the right questions."
This wasn't exactly what Tony wanted to hear. He knew all this, what he wanted to know was more basic, more primal. Shaking his head, he interrupted, "Yes, I'm well aware he's a good agent. What I want to know is how does he rub you?"
Dr. Mallard had heard about the jealousy Tony was exhibiting towards this new fellow, but for a split second, he got the feeling that it wasn't jealousy at all. But then the feeling was gone and he was back to being reminded that Tony had insecurities that often reared their ugly heads at the most inopportune times. "I wouldn't worry about him, Anthony. You are better than him in many ways."
"I am not jealous! Why does everybody think—!" he cut himself off, realizing his anger spoke volumes to an educated man like Dr. Mallard. "Sorry. It's just that my gut is telling me something and I don't know what that something is. And I seem to be the only person who has concerns."
"Have you shared your concerns with Gibbs?"
Tony shook his head.
Ducky nodded at this admission, understanding that Anthony DiNozzo was a much more complex man than anyone realized. "If that's the case, why don't you spend more time with Will, get to know him better. It couldn't hurt."
******************************************8
"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked from his desk.
Startled out of his thoughts, Tony looked over and stumbled, "Yeah, Boss?"
Exasperated that Tony hadn't heard a word of what he'd said, he grabbed his coffee cup and left the bullpen.
Ziva and McGee approached him and stared down, worried.
"What?"
"This is the second time you've managed to piss Gibbs off. It wouldn't be so bad, but he tends to take out his anger on all of us," McGee said.
"You should be thanking me then. He's a better boss when he's angry."
"You seem to be off your game today," Ziva observed.
"Everybody has a bad quarter every now and again," he replied, rubbing his forehead at the ache that was beginning to develop.
"We're all taking Will out tonight," McGee said. "Why don't you come along?"
Tony shrugged.
"It'll give you a chance to get to know him better, and maybe even like him."
"Maybe."
"It'll be good for you. You could—"
"—I said maybe!" And he pushed off his desk and left the bullpen, leaving his two colleagues to wonder about his state of mind.
*************************************8
The bar was noisy by the time Tony arrived. He had taken his date home early feigning some excuse about not feeling well. Given he hadn't spoken two words the entire night, she was not surprised and very understanding, so it was past eleven when he arrived. He spotted his colleagues at a large table not too far from the bar.
"Tony!" Abby shouted, throwing her arms around his neck, "I'm so glad you're here!"
"Me too, Abs."
"Where's your date?" McGee asked.
"I took her home. Too soon to expose her to the likes of you."
Ziva watched him pull up a chair and said, "Will has been regaling us with tales of Afghanistan."
Tony looked at him and said, "You were in the Middle East?"
"Yeah," he replied, "for a period of time. I worked for a private security company until their reputation took a hit. Seems like some of our guys liked to do things their way, which wasn't always the government's way. I decided to leave and join NCIS before I got caught up in the scandal."
"I hear it's pretty tough landing an NCIS gig in Hawaii. How'd you manage that?"
"A friend of a friend of a friend." He took another sip of beer and added, "then I cashed in a favor or two and added a bribe for good measure." This time, the table joined his laughter and Tony realized they were not quite drunk, but working on it.
Tony took a sip of beer and listened as Will guided the conversation exactly where he wanted it to go. When Abby or Palmer or McGee would ask a question, he only ever partially answered it, often leaving out details that Tony found interesting. With every word spoken, the tension in the back of his neck grew proportionately to the bad feeling he was having in his gut, and with every passing hour, his gut was feeling worse and worse.
Finally, Palmer, who was sufficiently drunk by now, asked, "So, Will, tell me… how did your date go with Michelle?"
Will smiled, the way one guy smiles at another when he's gotten some, "Just like you'd imagine. She was dynamite between the sheets."
Tony had heard enough of this guy's conquests and leaned forward. "Listen, Will, she's our colleague and I'd appreciate it if you treated her with a little more respect than that."
You could have knocked everyone over at the table with a feather after hearing his comment.
Will recovered, saying, "I didn't mean anything by it. I—"
Tony stood up and dropped a couple twenties on the table to cover his tab, "I'm outta here."
"Wait!" Will said, standing and grabbing hold of Tony's jacket.
Tony looked from Will's hand to his face.
To Ziva and McGee, Tony was seconds from throwing a punch. Ziva stepped between them, "No need for this," she soothed, pulling Will's hand off and pushing her partner back a step. But before she could further smooth things over, Tony had turned and walked away.
**********************************8
Again, Tony tossed and turned until he finally rolled out of bed, dressed and drove to the Navy Yard. He teased out every activity The Colony by the Sea resort offered its guests, from helicopter rides over the great volcano to scuba trips to the Great Barrier Reef. There was no connection between the four victims. He strummed his fingers on the desk, thinking about the case. It was odd that they hadn't come up with something more concrete than a hotel. It was also odd to be working the case with another agent. He looked in the direction of Cahoon's desk, still not being able to shake the feeling that he had some sort of ulterior motive for being assigned to this case, though Tony had absolutely no proof.
Out of habit, he looked suspiciously around the bullpen before sliding into Cahoon's chair. Once again he logged into the computer and accessed the search logs. Only this time, he found more information on the USS O'Kane. For whatever reasons, Cahoon was tracking this destroyer. Could it be that he has a possible family tie? Maybe a brother or an uncle serving on board?
He filed these questions away so he could revisit them again tomorrow.
***********************************8
Tony woke up late. After coming home from the Navy Yard, he had laid in bed thinking about the two cases: the Bali Killer, and Cahoon. Both cases stumped him.
He stepped off the elevator and saw his team gathered around the plasma. Gibbs looked pissed and glared him down.
"Sorry Boss, traffic was a bear on 395, accident somewhere."
"What'dya got?"
"There's no connection between any of the victims and the activities offered at the resort."
"So, what did the killer do? Just randomly pick these women to kill?"
His team had no good answer to that question and they stood by silently.
"Find that connection! NOW!"
A chorus of "On it!" crowded the air as they each went to their respective desks in search of some commonality among the four dead women.
Tony ignored the glares from his co-workers and punched away on his keyboard. He knew it was his fault that Gibbs was pissed, but he also knew that they had nothing on this case and needed something soon. He opened up two separate search engines and began his queries. The first query was easy: search the personnel records on the USS O'Kane. The second query was a little more tedious. Back in his days as a Baltimore County detective, he'd busted this guy who had a thing for numbers. Everything he did revolved around specific numbers. He was obsessed with them. Unfortunately, he had committed seven murders before he and his partner had figured it out. Maybe the Bali Killer was similar. He didn't notice the man standing in front of his desk.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about last night," Will said.
Tony looked up. "It's okay," he said. Maybe he was being too hard on the guy. If he found out that his brother was serving on the USS O'Kane, he was going to feel pretty stupid. "Consider it forgotten."
"You were right. I shouldn't have spoken about another NCIS employee like that."
Tony softened and shrugged, "No harm done. You find any connection searching Mandy Barnes' cell phone records yet?"
"Nope, nothing unusual. Normal everyday calls to normal everyday people."
"Keep at it. Something is bound to surface."
"Thanks."
*************************8
Tony was getting hungry. He had worked all morning and had practically exhausted every possible search query at the resort. Taking a lunch break now might assuage his hunger, but it would also give his Israeli colleague an opportunity to confront him, something he knew she was dying to do. But it would have to wait a few more minutes. Gibbs sailed by his desk, "Tony, you're with me in MTAC."
He and Gibbs joined Director Vance on the floor of the dark room and together they stared up at an eight foot head: Captain Ronald Vetter, United States Navy.
"Sir, can you repeat what you just told me to my team leader?" Vance said.
Captain Vetter took a deep breath, like he really didn't want to be saying anything out loud again. "We have a situation. We've been notified that the Navy is transporting weapon grade plutonium. It's classified 'Beyond Top Secret', which means even having the need to know isn't enough to know. For the time being, we're on Alert."
Gibbs asked, "Why is the Navy on Alert, Captain?"
"Potential theft. We've been monitoring the chatter on the lines and it hasn't been good. The reports are scattered and disjointed, but when viewed in a certain kind of light, it's potentially devastating. There are many groups who would do just about anything to get their hands on this shipment. One group in particular, Band of Muslim Brothers, calling themselves BOMB, is a particular threat. If there's a group out there planning on stealing the shipment, it'll be them."
"Appropriate acronym," Tony muttered.
"Do we know how the Navy is transporting this plutonium?" Gibbs asked.
"I'm sure somebody in the Navy does, but not me. The SECNAV is sending out alerts to all NCIS agencies to be on the lookout for suspicious activity."
"We received those orders this morning," Vance confirmed.
"Good," Captain Vetter said. "Remember, don't overlook any complaints and follow up on everything. The last thing we need is for the main ingredient in a nuclear bomb to get into the wrong hands."
"Understood, Captain." Vance signaled the technician and the screen went blank. "I want this kept quiet. Discretion is the game, gentlemen."
Gibbs acknowledged the statement by leaving but Vance called after him, "Where are you on the Bali Killer case?"
"We're working on it. We have several leads to track down."
"Keep me in the loop on both issues."
******************************8
Will Cahoon watched the highly decorated Marine return to his desk. Gibbs was one of those rare individuals who was impossible to read. Whatever he had heard or learned up in MTAC was going to stay in MTAC; he wasn't even going to try to speculate. But as he turned away from Gibbs, his eyes locked with Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo's, and in that split second, he saw something that he didn't want to. It unnerved him. So much so that it made him turn away quickly, but as he did, he felt the steely dark eyes of Agent DiNozzo boring into the side of his head.
Cahoon tried to ignore the feeling, but he couldn't. And he didn't dare look back over at him because he just knew those eyes were still laser fixed on him.
Something inside him clicked. His mind raced, and as it reached its climax, he felt the warm blood rush from his face at the thought that someone might be on to him. Like so many of his plans and schemes, this one may never reach fruition now. It would be all for not when his employer discovered his failure because these guys don't mess around. He was a walking dead man if DiNozzo had figured it out.
He inhaled deeply and brought his mind back around. 'Whoa, Cahoon,' he thought to himself. 'Let's not get ahead of yourself. One gaze from a fellow agent does not mean anything.' With this newfound optimism, he looked at his monitor, forcing his mind not to race ahead or jump to conclusions. He would first verify if DiNozzo knows anything. Then he would deal with it. He remembered the promise he made to himself before coming east: nothing was going to stand in his way this time. Nothing.
*********************************8
Cahoon composed himself and went to work. The first thing he thought to do was pull up the audit trail on his computer. That file would tell him if anyone had used this computer and what they'd done on it. Hopefully, he'd discover that no one but him had used it, and that would knowledge would most definitely set his mind at ease. He glanced around non chalantly, feigning a stretch. Everyone seemed to be working hard, which meant that no one was going to be interested in his little query. He tapped a few keys, remaining conscious of his appearance, appearing business like yet determined to find Mandy Barnes' killer. That is until he saw something. Right there, staring at him, big as day, was DiNozzo's login ID. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had accessed his computer at 2:43am last night, and again at 2:28am the night before. And yes, he had discovered the search on the USS O'Kane.
"You find something, Will?" Ziva asked.
"Huh?"
"You look like you've discovered something very important."
"Uhhh…no…not really." He minimized his screen and forced a smile. "Just anxious to uncover a clue."
"We're going for lunch. Would you care to join us?"
"Um, no, I can't. I have to finish up some work here. But, thanks."
"Can we bring you back anything?"
"No, um, I'm not very hungry."
She accepted that and he watched her head towards the elevator along with DiNozzo and McGee.
He collected his composure and headed for the stairwell that led to the back yard where he found the smoking area for employees. It was overcast outside and looked as though it was going to storm, but even with the threat of rain, there were still half a dozen people puffing away on cigarettes. He found a partially secluded place away from the others and pulled out a cell phone. Not the company issued one, but his own personal one. He dialed the number and waited.
A voice picked up, "What."
"I think I've been compromised."
"How?"
"One of the agents here, I think he knows something."
"What are you going to do about it?"
Will was silent, not wanting to articulate his thoughts.
"Bring him to me," the voice on the other end sounded annoyed. "I will take care of him."
Will listened to the silence, knowing he'd been hung up on. A clap of thunder startled him out of his thoughts. If only lightning would come and strike him dead, at least it'd be a less painful death than he was imagining.
***********************************8
McGee was feeling good, even though Gibbs was a tyrant today it was only because DiNozzo couldn't show up to work on time, but he liked having the old Tony back. The jealous Tony didn't sit well with him. "That was nice of you, Tony, to forgive Will. Have you decided he's not worth getting jealous over?"
"I think it was nicer of you to defend Michelle last night," Ziva said. "Although it sounded a little like you know her better than just a casual work acquaintance."
"Now who's jealous?"
"I am not jealous. I just find it hard to believe that you came to her defense."
"Who says chivalry is dead?"
"Back to Will," McGee said, "what changed your mind? Spending an evening listening to his stories, or the apology?"
"It wasn't an evening of listening to his tales, that's for sure. Didn't you find them contrived?"
"No, not really. He just knows how to tell a good story."
Changing the subject, Tony asked, "How would the Navy go about transporting weapons-grade plutonium?"
"I got a better question: Why would the Navy transport weapons-grade plutonium?" Ziva countered.
Tony answered, "We'll never know why, but we might better be able to stop a terrorist threat if we knew how." Turning to McGee, he asked, "By land, air, or sea? How would you transport it?"
"I sure as hell wouldn't use a plane. Depending on how stable it is, a little turbulence could blow the plane to smithereens."
"So that takes air off the table and leaves by land or by sea."
Ziva thought about it and said, "It depends on where they are coming from."
On a whim, Tony threw out, "Hawaii."
"Hawaii? Why would you pick Hawaii?"
"No reason," he said, but he was thinking that way since Pearl Harbor is the homeport of the USS O'Kane.
"Well, if you eliminate by air, and assuming it's coming from Hawaii, it would have to be moved by sea."
"What kind of Navy vessel would do that? Destroyer?"
McGee furrowed his brow, "Is that why you asked me about Navy Destroyers earlier? Do you know something that we don't?"
"I know a lot of things that you don't, McM.I.T, but stay with me. What kinds of ships would the Navy use to transport such precious merchandise?"
"It could be any number of ships, Tony. Any military navy vessel could do it. It would be impossible to guess which one it was."
Tony never finished his lunch which seemed to give his colleagues that much more to nag him about. But he was fairly adept at tuning them out for his brain was already thinking about Will Cahoon and his possible involvement, if any, to the plutonium shipment.
***************************************8
Returning from lunch, Tony stashed his weapon and badge and decided to run one more search pattern against The Colony by the Sea. He keyed in every known statistic associated with the four murders. It took him the better part of two hours, and he thought it was more McGee work than his, but when he was finished, he turned the search program loose and let it run. Now he could turn his attention back to Cahoon and what he was up to. He opened the results screen for the search he'd begun earlier and discovered that Cahoon didn't have any family members on board the USS O'Kane. In fact, looking through the personnel files, it appeared that there wasn't any connection between any of the sailors and William A. Cahoon. Another interesting thing to note was the travel itinerary of the boat. Most destroyers accompany the larger ships and act like an escort, but not this one. Instead of doing the escorting, it seemed like it was the one being escorted. From what Tony could figure out, there was a small army of PT boats escorting it along. And, to add even more intrigue, the shipping manifesto was being blocked.
As he rubbed his chin at all the unusual discoveries, he noticed the very man of interest standing in front of him.
"Hey, Tony," Cahoon began, "how 'bout you and me go for some drinks tonight. I still feel kind of bad about my comment on Michelle and want to make it up to you. What'd'ya say?"
"I can't tonight. Gotta hot date."
"Oh, I see. Maybe some other night then."
"Yeah." Cahoon walked towards the bathroom but he was feeling surer now more than ever that DiNozzo was up to something and could potentially screw up all his hard work.
And as Tony watched him walk away, he was surer now more than ever that Cahoon was involved with something, he just didn't know what yet.
"Why did you turn him down?" Ziva whispered. "Are you still feeling inadequate around him?"
"I do not feel inadequate around him. He—" The ding of his computer alerted him that his search had found something.
As if on cue, Gibbs turned the corner and said, "Whad'ya find?"
"I'm not sure," Tony said, punching on his keys. "I may have found a pattern that connects the four victims." He pushed the files to the plasma and picked up the remote. Ziva and McGee made their way to the plasma screen and watched. "I plugged in all known stats on the four women who were murdered. We know they were killed by the same person, but what we don't know is why. I worked this case in Baltimore County once where the murderer was obsessed with numbers and didn't do anything unless the numbers were aligned."
Gibbs shifted from foot to foot, "DiNozzo…what does this have to do with my dead petty officers?"
"Look at this." He clicked on a log sheet. "We were looking for some commonality for check-in, or check-out, and there is one, just not an obvious one. The first murder occurred on January 1, 2010, the second murder occurred on January 10, 2010, the third murder occurred on August 9, 2010, and the fourth murder occurred on October 10, 2010. There doesn't appear to be a pattern until you look at the dates formatted differently." He then proceeded to change the formatting of each date and display the following: 01/01/10, 01/10/10, 8/9/10, 10/10/10.
Tony said the dates out loud: "One/One/Ten; One/Ten/Ten; Eight/Nine/Ten; and Ten/Ten/Ten. If you're a numbers kind of person, these dates are meaningful. Check out any of the websites that have sprung up addressing this issue. People who are obsessed with numbers do things at certain times and on certain dates. It's like they can't help it."
Gibbs was having trouble making sense of it all, but McGee wasn't. He turned quickly towards his computer, nearly knocking over Cahoon who had returned from the men's room, and began punching at his keys. Cahoon studied the dates while McGee pushed to the screen photos of the victims' watches. "Look at the time on the watch. The first victim's watch stopped at one minute past one; the second victim's watch stopped at ten minutes past one; the third victim's watch stopped at nine minutes past eight, and the fourth victim's watch stopped at ten minutes past ten."
Ziva added, "If we know our murderer is obsessed with numbers, then all we have to do is determine the next date that he or she might commit a murder. But that is nearly impossible."
"Maybe—maybe not," Tony said. "According to the website, , the next meaningful number occurs November 1, 2010, or 11/1/10."
Gibbs' mind began unraveling and he said, "Ziva, I want a list of all people who worked at that resort on those specific dates. Include taxi service and travel agencies."
"On it."
"McGee, make sure that the next date is November 1st. I don't want to lose another petty officer because we missed a so-called meaningful date."
"On it."
"Will, contact the resort and find out if they have any information on people who are known for being obsessed with numbers. See if they've held any conventions recently or come across anyone who would fit that description."
"Okay."
"Tony."
"Yeah, Boss."
"That's good work."
"Thank you, Boss."
***********************************8
Tony returned to his desk with nothing to do. There were things he could do, but most of the areas were covered by his colleagues and so that left some time to follow up on something that was niggling at his brain. While they were punching away on their keyboards, he sauntered off to the men's room, but instead of going in, he veered off towards the steps and detoured down to Abby's lab.
"Hey, Tony. I'm glad you came down. I wanted to commend you for taking up for Michelle. That was very noble of you."
"Yeah, I'm that kinda guy."
She snorted, "No you're not."
"Abs, I have a favor to ask."
"Another one?"
"Can you run this cell phone number for me?"
She took the number and didn't recognize it. "Who's is it?"
"It's better if you don't know."
She ran it and together they studied the numbers. "Most are to Hawaii—" she stopped short and turned to look at him. "Is this Will's phone? I can't believe you!"
"It's not what you think."
"Ziva said you were jealous of him but I didn't believe her. But this?"
"Abby, I have another favor. I need to see the footage of NCIS between 12:30 and 1:30 today."
"Are you crazy?"
"Just do it, please."
She recognized the firm voice and turned back towards her computer. She pulled the video off all exterior and interior cameras for that time period and burned them to a CD. She popped the disc out and handed it over. "I hope you're not spying on one of our own."
"Me too, Abs. And for the record, I'm not jealous."
****************************************88
That evening, Tony placed the CD in his computer, heated up a TV dinner and went through the footage. For the most part, it was boring. He did discover that Angie in Personnel was secretly meeting Andy in Maintenance. The two looked like a match made in heaven.
And then he found what he was looking for: Will Cahoon making a call from a designated smoking area. That's the evidence he needed. All he had to do now was find out who he called. He didn't look forward to cashing in that favor.
As he lay in bed, he contemplated the day's events. By all accounts, it had been productive. By the afternoon, they had several people of interest in the Bali Killer case, but more importantly, they had a means to prevent another murder. It should have been enough to make him fall asleep, and any other time, it would have been enough, but he was working two cases and it was the details of the second one that had him worried. What if the phone call was routine? To a friend or family member? Or Michelle? The only problem with that scenario is the call would have shown up on his phone records that he looked at earlier, and nothing did. He would have to get McGee to do whatever he does to cell towers and back trace the number, not as easy as it sounds given McGee's hesitation to break the law.
He began wondering what search Will did today. Was he still watching the USS O'Kane? Last time he checked, it was due to dock in Norfolk tomorrow. The curiosity built until he rolled out of bed, got dressed and drove to the Navy Yard. It wouldn't take long at all for him to check Will's computer since he didn't have any of his own work to finish. Walking past his own desk, he went straight for Cahoon's and sat down.
As usual, he signed on and began the task of pulling up search files. He was so intent on reading the results that he failed to notice the man standing behind him until he felt the cold barrel of a gun being pressed against his neck.
"Too bad you had to go and figure it out."
Tony recognized the voice immediately and said, "Figure what out, Cahoon?"
"What I'm doing."
"What are you doing?"
"Put your hands where I can see them."
Tony raised his hands and felt the cuffs being roughly slapped on his wrists. "Why are you tracking the USS O'Kane?"
"None of your business. Now get up and move."
"I have an idea. Does weapons-grade plutonium sound familiar?"
Tony crumpled to the floor as the gun crashed down on his skull.
TBC
Thank you to anyone who's commented. Greatly appreciated! ~Jasmine
