Tyler O'Brien whistled as walked through the hall. It was after hours at NIMR and the place was empty; all the doors to the offices were closed and the lights were off except the hall lights. The young Lieutenant had just finished up his last report before a much needed day off. With all that had happened recently the newlywed had spent little time at home; of course his wife was also busy at work.

All the departments and secretaries were pulling double duty filling in the administrative duties that were normally occupied by the command staff of Seaview. Nelson and Crane were too busy trying to solve the case of the mysterious bomber; and the exec's paper work needed to be looked after since a replacement was difficult to find. In recent weeks they had found one candidate that the Admiral thought would work out, but training in the administrative duties was put on the back burner.

To make up for his absence Tyler had purchased a large bouquet of flowers on his lunch break. His plan was to surprise Michelle with flowers and a reservation at the very exclusive Italian restaurant she liked; he figured it was a good start at trying to spend some quality time together. O'Brien rounded the corner and noticed the light shining under the door of Nelson's outer office; the Admiral had already gone home for the day so it was odd that someone would still be there. The young man approached the door and was just about to enter when he heard a raised voice; it was one side of a conversation and whatever they were discussing was becoming very heated. As O'Brien listened to the sound on the other side of the door he realized he knew that voice.

"You know what; I saved your ass when Morton sent that message to Nelson at the hotel. That wasn't part of the plan but I still managed to delete it before he saw it," explained the angry voice from through the door.

O'Brien's mind started to race with what was being said.

"Maybe you should watch him more closely. It's your fault he sent that email to Crane, not mine! Just put a bullet in his head and then we won't have any more problems."

The Lieutenant's hand that was resting on the doorknob was starting to tremble; he was paralyzed by what was being discussed. Chip Morton was alive and being held prisoner somewhere. More importantly this was the person on the inside that that helped make the bombing of base 21, the attempt at murdering Nelson, the death of Archer and the attacks on fellow crewman possible. How could someone they all trusted and loved be in on this plot?

"No! I told you Malcolm is on to something. Your boy Shaw screwed up again; I told you anyone willing to sell out that quickly would be useless. You should have kept Highner alive; at least he would have been useful."

O'Brien was at war with himself. His duty dictated he get all the information he could, but another part wanted to burst in the room and beg, no demand that this trusted person tell him it wasn't true; that they couldn't do this to their family at the Institute.

"I've been spending all my time framing everyone around here while you've been holding a tea party. It's time to step things up; I'm taking this to the next level. I told you I took care of it, I . . ."

The voice paused a moment as a beep sounded from out in the hall.

O'Brien held his breath as he realized the beep came from his pocket; of all the times to get a text message. A shaking hand reached into his pocket to try and shut off the offending device before it brought anymore attention to his eavesdropping. O'Brien pressed his ear against the door once more.

"Right. I'll contact you again at the regular scheduled time."

O'Brien turned the knob to enter the office and confront the traitor when something slammed into the back of his head. His vision blurred around the edges and the floor rushed up to greet him. The last thing he saw was his assailant removing a radio head set from their ear and throw it to the floor.

"I took care of it like I'm going to take care of this," stated the voice as O'Brien slipped into darkness, "men; always causing problems."

The traitor dragged the body into the office and closed the door. Hopefully no one else would be disturbing the office tonight.

The constant pounding on the door woke the Captain; still half asleep he rolled over and looked at the glowing red light of his alarm clock. Who could be at the door at three am? Letting out a yawn Crane reached over to the table to grab his cell phone. There were no missed calls or messages, so the late night intrusion wasn't work related.

Lee climbed out of bed and shrugged on his housecoat. His footsteps down the stairs to the front door matched the rhythm of the knocking; he grabbed his handgun from the desk drawer. He was pretty sure that anyone wanting to cause him harm wasn't going to announce their presence by knocking, but this recent adversary seemed willing to try anything and stoop to any level. Putting the piece in his pocket Crane turned on the porch light and opened the door.

"Yes," uttered the Captain as he set his sights on the disheveled and hysterical woman in front of him, "Michelle? What are you doing here at this hour?"

"Lee," the tears started flowing and the rest of the sentence was lost in a jumble of sobs.

Putting his arm around her shoulder Crane guided the distraught secretary inside and sat her down on the couch. He reached for the box of Kleenex on the coffee table and handed it to his unexpected house guest, before sitting on the table across from Michelle.

Having the wife of his Lieutenant show up in the middle of the night was not a common occurrence. To be honest it had never happened before, and a knot of dread was beginning to form in Lee's stomach.

Mrs. O'Brien gratefully took the box of tissues and pulled one out to wipe her eyes. After a few moments she managed to compose herself a little.

"Start again Michelle," encouraged the skipper.

Taking a deep breath, Michelle started her story again.

"Tyler never came home. I know he has been working a lot lately, we all have but he always calls and lets me know where he is. I've been trying to reach him all night and there's no answer; not to my calls or texts. Then the restaurant called and said they were going to give our table away, he wouldn't have made a reservation if he wasn't going to come home early tonight. I've looked everywhere Lee and I can't find him. His vehicle is still at the Institute and security said he never signed out. I didn't know where else to go."

"You did the right thing coming here. I'm sure everything is alright and O'Brien got caught up with something and is currently at home wondering where you are. Just to be on the safe side I'll go and check the office myself. I'll call someone to take you back home and I'll get in touch with you there," reassured the Captain.

"You really think everything is alright?" asked Michelle with a sparkle of hope in her eye.

Not sure his voice would support the comforting lie he was trying to offer the young lady, Crane simply gave a small smile and nod then headed for the phone. After informing the Admiral of the current situation they both agreed to head to the Institute right away. His second call was to the closest crewman to escort Michelle home and stay with her in case someone tried to get to her as well.

Returning to the living room, Lee informed this guest of the plan, "the Admiral and I are going to search the Institute and Patterson is going to take you home and stay with you until we find something."

A gentle knock at the door signified Pat's arrival; Lee answered the door and let Patterson in. Despite the late hour, Pat had managed to make himself look somewhat presentable. He was dressed in a green sweatshirt and black jeans.

Before entering the living room Crane pulled Pat back.

"I want you to stay with Michelle and keep an eye on things. I have a feeling our friend is back and behind O'Brien's disappearance. Try to reassure Michelle that things will be alright. I don't want her worrying needlessly if it turns out that everything is fine," explained Crane.

"Do you think everything will be alright skipper?" asked Patterson hopefully.

"I don't know Pat, I just don't know."

The pair walked into the living room and Michelle looked up.

"Your chariot a waits," said Pat as he gestured to the door.

Michelle got up off the couch and started towards the door. "Thanks Sean," Michelle said as she patted Patterson's arm, "and thank you Lee."

Patterson and Michelle got into Pat's car and drove to her house. Crane followed them out of the house and got into his vehicle.

The Captain pulled into his usual parking spot and noticed that O'Brien's midnight blue Yukon was still parked there. Lee inspected the area for any signs of foul play but the parking lot seemed clean. Upon entering the main lobby Crane found Nelson waiting for him.

"Lee, I have security searching the grounds now."

The pair took the elevator up to Nelson's office in silence. Both ran scenario after scenario in their head about what had become of their Lieutenant; none of them ending well. Upon entering the office the first thing they noticed was the lights had been left on.

"Was Ryan working late tonight?" asked Crane.

"I don't believe so."

The next thing to catch their attention was a soft melody playing somewhere in the room.

"Do you hear that Lee?"

The two men wandered around the outer office trying to pin point the source of the music. As Crane stepped closer to Ryan's desk the intermittent sound grew louder. He cautiously pulled open the bottom drawer to reveal a ringing cell phone. Lee hit the answer button and placed the phone to his ear.

"Lieutenant O'Brien?" asked the familiar voice on the other end.

"No this is Crane."

"Sir, what are you doing with Mr. O'Brien's phone?"

"This is O'Brien's cell?"

"Yes. The security chief asked me to try calling his cell number in the hopes the Lieutenant might answer."

"Well I guess we can cancel that approach." Lee ended the call and turned to the Admiral who had been listening to the conversation. "What would O'Brien's phone be doing in Ryan's desk? You don't think she had something to do with this?"

"Now Lee, let's not jump to conclusions."

"Let's not jump to conclusions! Let's jump to something Admiral. He's gone after another crewman and we know there's someone on the inside."

Nelson raised his voice to match the same boisterous level. "And leaving it there for us to find is rather sloppy; not to mention that as my personal assistant Ms. Miller is subject to numerous and regular background checks. Bloody hell Lee I even have background checks on her friends and family. Now if it is Ryan, then this plan has been in motion for more than five years which would be longer than you've been at the institute."

"People can be bought."

"I'm sure they can and I'm sure this is exactly what these people want, is for us to start pointing fingers at one another. Now for your information I have been conducting investigations into our people and have eliminated key personal as suspects."

"When were you going to let me in on your investigation?" snapped Lee.

"When I was sure you could handle it. You don't exactly have things together right now Lee; you're little stunt on the last mission proves that."

"So you have Davenport running to you about me trying to leave him behind," huffed Crane under his breath.

"Actually Lee, I was referring to you leaving Sharkey and Patterson with FS1, but it's nice to know your self-destructive short sightedness knows no bounds. This would be why I have to keep you in the dark; you're not handling things very well. Now get it together Captain!"

The two friends glared at each other from across the desk. Neither knew when the infighting had really started but it seemed they were doing a lot of it lately. They both knew the other one was hurting but pride prevented either one from apologising for recent behaviours.

The glaring ceased and an unspoken truce was reached. No more keeping secrets, no more reckless behaviour. The only way to take down the enemy would be together. Apart is what had caused the problem in the first place and continued to give their foe the advantage. Together they would be unstoppable.