April, 2013, Los Angeles.

The next Monday, Hetty sent Nell to attend a seminar by Condoleezza Rice at the USC School of Foreign Relations, and she rather regretted leaving Eric without his partner for a few hours, even though the case seemed straightforward. But then an explosion of frustration interrupted her contemplating this trade-off. "Drat, Blast, and Double-Drat!" It surprised her as much by its vehemence as by its source. Mild-mannered Eric Beale, who no more had a violent bone in his body than he had a vulgar phrase in his vocabulary, had already reached his breaking point. So she directed her measured pace toward Ops to investigate.

She asked, "A problem, Mr. Beale?"

Eric felt her reproach. "I'm sorry, Hetty. It's just that Yurischenko tricked Kaleidoscope. He was on foot, wearing a red jacket and purple baseball cap. Then he went into a camera blind spot and came out a few seconds later. But it was actually somebody else he'd given the jacket and cap to: Oldest trick in the book! I read about it in Ken Follett's Hornet Flight, set during World War II. But Kaleidoscope fell for it! Since it was near my apartment in Torrance, we got back on track soon enough, but next time those lost minutes could be crucial."

"Mr. Beale, what would have prevented this?"

Eric looked at his hand after the reprimand: "I suspect I should have stayed away from the espresso machine the morning…."

"No, Eric. You misunderstand me." She gestured to indicate the wall of computers beside them, "Can your software be redesigned to avoid this?"

Eric thought for a minute so he could choose his words carefully. "It should be easy enough for the programming: Kaleidoscope already checks license plates after cars come out of blind spots, but facial recognition would be so much harder. It would take that GFX-32153 graphics card I asked you about."

"That $50,000 gadget in your e-mail? I included it in my capital budget, but it may take a few years before we see it."

Eric groaned in frustration, so Hetty changed the subject, a sly smile on her lips. "Speaking of e-mails, did you see what I forwarded you from the New England Regional Office?"

"About their new electronics center?"

"Right. It sounds like Bob Hansen is gearing up to set up a traffic surveillance system like yours. He's an assistant director with a budget and a space, and he wanted our help—well, yours—to put together a shopping list. Be sure to put that card of yours on his list."

Eric's eyes glazed over as he contemplated the task. "Somebody's gonna have a handful. All of New England—six jurisdictions, four different traffic cam image protocols, rain, wind, snow…. Even that 153 card will get a workout!" Eric's technobabble washed over Hetty like a familiar rain and she knew she'd miss it in the fall. He cast about the ops center, taking an inventory of all the little frustrations still blemishing his beloved domain: all the hardware just slightly out of date, all the bugs he wished he had designed around but never got the chance now to fix. "Hetty, isn't that office in Providence?"

"Right."

"Is that anyplace near Newport?"

"Mr. Beale, in Rhode Island, everything is near everything else." And she smiled as she left the room.

As soon as she had gone, Eric texted Nell, "Call me when you can! Good news!"

Thirty minutes later, Nell's call came in.

"Eric, this must be good news. You put two exclamation points in the same text."

"I think it merits it. You wouldn't believe it, Nell. They're planning to put a system like Kaleidoscope at the NCIS New England Regional Office."

Nell didn't see the significance. "And…?"

"And that's in Providence. Just up the road from Newport! Nell, I think I could help them. You didn't see the frustrations I had putting Kaleidoscope together, but I learned a lot, so it wouldn't be as bad the second time. Besides, technology has improved to make it easier."

"Well, that just means you'd have higher expectations, and you know it."

Eric winced as he thought of the runaround with Yurischenko. "Still, I don't think there's anyone better able to put it together. Besides, I'd report directly to Assistant Director Bob Hansen, so it'd be a sort-of promotion."

Nell became the voice of caution, "He's an assistant director? That's a bad sign: we've met Granger. What's he like? I'd hate to see you working for the second coming of Genghis Khan."

As a prank, Eric pulled the phone away from his ear and tried out the impression he'd surreptitiously been working on. "Actually, I prefer Atilla the Hun, or at least Machiavelli," he said, trying to sound like Granger.

When Eric's laugh broke the stunned silence emanating from the phone, he asked, "So, do you like my Granger impression?" allowing Nell finally to relax.

"Oooh! I'll get you for that!" she laughed.

"As for what Hansen is like, I'll have to check with Hetty."

Nell reacted with horror to the implication. "Eric, you can't just ask for advice like that. She'll think you want a transfer."

"I'm pretty sure it was actually her idea. She sent me the e-mail from Hansen, and wanted my help. And today, she came in and brought it up, speaking favorably of the situation."

"Okay. Just be very careful! We don't want to get on Hetty's bad side. I'll be back to Ops in half an hour. Maybe we should talk to her together."

"That might seem too formal. Maybe I'll catch her in Ops while you're here. That way you can run backup. Pull my foot out of my mouth if you have to. On the other hand, maybe we're over-thinking this. I'm just gonna man up and ask her—politely and carefully—but just ask."

"Okay, Wolfram. Politely and carefully!"

By this time, the team had Yurischenko under surveillance. He holed up in motel that was best described as a battle front for the fleas, the bedbugs, and the rodents. This left nothing for Eric to do, so he carefully made his way to Hetty's office. He nervously asked, "Pardon me, Hetty. …umm…Do you have a minute for a question?"

"Certainly, Mr. Beale. What is troubling you?"

"I wanted to follow up on what you mentioned about the New England Regional Office."

"Their traffic surveillance system?" Her eyes brightened.

"Right. Do you know if they have anyone to put it together?"

"I don't think they have. In fact, Hansen made noises about trying to poach you out from under me. Your reputation is considerable."

He asked, "And what did you say?" So much was hanging on the answer to this question, it seemed even Cupid was holding his breath with Eric.

"I told him how happy you were here with your surfing. I told him he'd have to offer you an ungodly raise to take you away." She gave a chuckle.

"And that was your principal concern?" He left unmentioned that Montauk Point, just across the Sound, offered the best surfing on the East Coast.

"I know national security demands that he have the best person he can for that system to work. If that's where you'd like to be, then far be it from me to stop you. But don't rush into this unprepared. Check him out. You remember Claire Keats from the Red Team? She started out on Hansen's team when he was an Operations Manager. They're in Oregon today. Why don't you contact her this evening to start your research?"

"Okay, and thanks again, Hetty!" Eric said with wide-eyed gratitude.

{Insert dividing line here}

A few hours later, Eric braced himself for a videoconference with Claire Keats, and quickly established the connection between Ops and the combination dining-room/tech-center in the Red Team's trailers."

"Hello, Wanderer. Do you have a few minutes to talk about something outside a case?" He asked nervously.

"Sure. Hetty called and told me you wanted to talk. I'm on kitchen duty. Do you mind if I cook while we talk?"

The casualness of the situation left Eric surprised, and immediately he relaxed. "No problem," he said, as she brought everything to a table in full view, so Eric could watch as she assembled a large dish of lasagna. "So Hetty tells me you've got questions about Bob Hansen."

"Right. First, though, are you interested in that position? I don't want to be stepping on toes here."

Claire gave a laugh. "Me, No! I'm still having far too much fun with these guys, but thanks for asking."

"You're welcome. Second, did she sound like she wanted your help in steering me, toward or away from his post?"

"Nope." Claire gave a knowing laugh. As soon as Hetty's name had come up, he knew he'd have to treat Claire's words with suspicion. He still planned to, but he had to ask anyhow.

"Sorry, I just had to be sure." Preliminaries out of the way, Eric got right to it. "So, what's Hansen like as a boss?"

"Bobby? He's great. Brings out the best in the team, but not by scaring them. He keeps it light."

Eric sounded puzzled. "Light? What do you mean?"

Claire paused to gather her thoughts. "You'll understand if I tell you how I first met him. Fresh out of FLETC, I'd just gotten my papers there. He was my operations manager, and I envisioned a grizzled Cold-warrior—a male version of your Hetty. So, on the first day on the job, I had to track down the team at a wave tank at Groton shipyards. Turns out the case was about a corporal whose body washed up on the beach, naked, with dislocated shoulders and a BAC of point-one-seven. His CO said he was body-surfing behind a boat and it was just messing around that went bad, but Bobby suspected hazing. They'd found radar evidence the boat was going forty, and wondered whether that was enough to dislocate the shoulders." She paused a second to drain the chopped olives, but it had the effect of drawing out the melodrama.

"So they went to this wave tank at Groton to find out what forty miles per hour would feel like. It's basically an endless pool the naval architects would use to test the hydrodynamics of a new hull design. There he was, in the pool, hanging onto a rope. He shouted out 'Okay. That's starting to hurt, especially my hand. Let's try thirty-five!' And then 'Whoops!' and I saw his blue Speedo floating down the current." She laughed so hard she spilled Parmesan across the table. " 'Well, I guess we know why he showed up naked!' he shouted. I expected them to give up at that point, to deal with the 'wardrobe malfunction,' but he said, 'Okay! Is that thirty-five? I bet forty would do it. Just gimme a couple waves and we'll call it a day.' The test went on for about five more minutes before he climbed out, and all the time, he's hanging on stark naked!"

Eric gave a nervous laugh. "Wow…Yeah… I see what you mean, 'keeping it light.' But does it work?"

"I'll say! After I left, I checked his closure rate. It matched Hetty's."

"Wow! That answers my question!"

"Right. We knew he'd walk through fire for us, so we'd walk through fire for him. You can't be that loyal to the captain without being loyal to the ship, so he built a really great team. I doubt that system has changed since he got promoted." After a pause, she asked, "Any other questions?"

"Nope, that covers it. Thanks for your time, and good luck with your case,"

"Good luck with the transfer. I think you'll like it there." and they signed off.