*~*~*
Friday Evening
Harm's Apartment
1900 hours
It took a few moments to answer the insistant knocking on the door. "COMING!" he yelled. Opening the door with a rather irritated look on his face, he was surprised to see Sarah standing there. "Mac??"
"I hope so, otherwise there are two of us running around in town." She smirked.
"Are you trying to give me nightmares, Major?" he bantered. He was desperately trying to keep the mood light, especially after this morning when he had snapped at her, vented out his frustrations to the first person who happened to walk through his office door, and that had been McKenzie.
"Oh shush up, grab your jacket, I need pizza." she placed her hands on her hips. She could see in his eyes that he was still quite upset about whatever that had happened prior to this morning. She knew he needed a friend right now, whether he knew it or not.
"Is this your way of asking me for a date?"
Tapping her foot on the hard wood floor, she raised a brow at him. "Forget about that dress whites and gold wings thing Harm... I already told you once that was over rated... it's dinner time and I'm hungry.. get your coat."
"Mm hmm. We'll see." Grinning, he grabbed his jacket, shoving Sarah out the door, then locked up his apartment. "So, since you asked me on this date, where are you taking me?"
She just glanced at him, and said one word. "Pizza." Sarah pulled her jeep in front of a dark little building. Harm glanced at it, hoping that this was not the place they were going to have dinner. It didn't appear to be a place that would serve good pizza.
The exterior of the building was almost run down. The appearance was a shabby little shack that looked like it could almost fall apart with the lightest of breezes. There was only one medium sized window and a single wooden door.
Stepping out of her jeep, he immediately sensed the aroma of pizza. Harm followed Sarah into the little restaurant. The interior was just as dark, little candles on the eight tables that were spread about the main floor. He could see the cook through the open passageway throwing the dough in the air. Harm had to admit that there was some feeling of atmosphere here that he enjoyed.
Their waiter sat them at a table where the little window was. "Nice to see you again Sarita." Sarah in turn, smiled. "The usual for you and your young man?" he inquired.
"Please." It was all he waited to hear. "And he's not...." she trailed off and watched him walk away. She avoided looking at Harm by glancing out the window.
"I'm afraid to ask what the usual is."
"You'll see." Mac sighed, relieved that the topic was changed. "So, did you talk to Meg about the letter opener?"
"Mmm, I did, yes." he waited for her to prompt him, and she did not let him down.
"And??"
"And.. you were right, it was a gift." Harm watched as their waiter scurried in to drop off two glaces of root beers on their table. He took a sip. "She said that she didn't question it being missing because she thought it was taken out of the office for evidence to the crime.
Sarah sat back smugly. "So the question now is... where is it?"
*~*~*
Meg Austin's Apartment
2138 hours
Meg self consciously looked over her shoulder once again. She spent the last hour walking around her living room talking to herself about this case. At this point she was willing to work on anything just to keep her mind off other things.
"Forensics found blood at the scene, blood that was not the victims." Tapping the report lightly, she skimmed further down. "Rare blood type even, gee that cuts it down to a couple hundred thousand people." Flipping through the papers, she settled on the photos taken of Samantha's body on the floor, various angles and came across one with her right hand placed by her face. "Broken nail..." Grabbing the forensics report once again, she looked for any information saying they found skin under her nails.
The phone rang and she involuntarily jumped before answering it. "Hello?"
"Lieutenant Austin?"
"This is she."
"Lieutenant JG. Bud Roberts, ma'am."
"Bud, how are you?"
"Fine ma'am, thank you." he was trying to sound professional. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry it took me this long to get the information you requested from Commander Rabb."
The mention of his name made her suck in air. *What was it I requested? Think... * "No problem."
"I finally managed to get the video tape of the parkade from security. I think we may have something." he paused. "The tape shows a man in black walking out of an elevator at around the same time the murdered occurred."
"Do we have a good visual?" she sat up straighter. *Its possible we may have our lead.*
"We're working on enhancing it now ma'am. I just thought perhaps you would be interested. The commander did tell me to keep you advised."
"Thank you Bud, excellent job. You just made my night." she checked her watch. "What are you doing still at work at this hour?" Meg went towards her bedroom to get changed, she was going to go and see this tape for herself.
"I had my exam tonight and I was so wired, I figured I would come in and follow up on this."
"I owe you big time. Listen, I'm getting changed now and will be in ASAP. I'll see you then, lieutenant." Meg hung up the phone and changed out of her Navy sweats into her khakis. She pinned her short blonde hair back into a pony tail, grabbed her car keys and walked towards the door before pausing. "Guess I better take these in case I need them." Scooping up the case files, she then left to go find her Mustang in the parkade. It was a little cool to have the top down tonight.
*~*~*
JAG Headquarters
2146 Hours
Jarod had returned to JAG, on the principle that most of the others would be gone and he would have time to put himself to work before Miss Parker and the
Centre could draw a bead on him.
Dinner with Kate Pike had proved to be a good beginning, a chance to plant the seed in her mind that she had a sibling who would want to know of her existence. Jarod was leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled together in a posture of thought. One thing was certain, however. Once Pike and Parker were introduced to one another, there would have to be safeguards put into place to protect the Naval officer from the Centre. They must not be allowed to get their demented hands on her. Well, there would be at least a little time allowed for that later on.
Sitting up straighter, he turned his train of thought to the Samantha Collins
case...Collins and...Arsenal. All of it, he thought bleakly, turned on the Centre. Arsenal, after all had been a Centre project, contracted through the U.S. Navy. His simulations of its use had indicated it would be a great asset to naval operations. Except that they had presented it to him without explaning that it wasn't truly operational. That there were flaws. He ran the sim like it was a flawless, perfect creation of technology.
A creation of technology that Samantha Collins had died for. What had his
curiousity now however, was not so much what she died for but...how she died. He had the photographs strewn all over his desktop now, the pictures of her body lying
there in the office, the blue eyes staring emptily, lifelessly. Lying with her limbs akimbo, covered in blood and the gun lying close by, presumably where nerveless fingers had dropped it upon her death.
Jarod opened another file that was on his desk; this one contained the autopsy and category of physical evidence from the office in which Collins lost her
life. The cause of death had been ruled to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound to
the head; the broken neck coming from the subsequent falling of the body against
the corner of the desk on the way down.
Falling against the desk...
Jarod pulled the pictures closer again, eyes searching, his expression
reflecting intense concentration. His finger idly traced the image of the sharp
desk edge, and then the position of the fallen body. Dark eyes gauged the distance between the body and the desk, then glanced up to follow the edges of his own desk, his mind working over the mental image of Samantha Collins standing before it with a gun to her head...
"No." He finally murmured to himself, completely convinced, like Commander
Rabb, that this was not a suicide. This had been murder. "This was made to look like she killed herself, but her neck was already broken."
Rising silently from his seat, photographs still in hand, he wandered through the bullpen, mind still working over his conclusion with razor- sharp precision. He paused a moment, cocking his head slightly. Mac's office would do.
Picking a lock was not a problem for a genius, but Jarod was spared the exercise in breaking and entering as the door had been left unlocked. Stepping inside and closing the door, he glanced at the pictures, then closed his eyes, thinking.
Pretending.
In his mind's eye, he was Samantha Collins, closing up after a long day, perhaps already thinking of home and what she would make for supper. Maybe she had looked out the window, checking the weather for the trek across the parkade...
Jarod drifted over by the window, his eyes open again, but seeing things as Samantha Collins would have seen them. There was a noise...someone opening the door.
Jarod snapped around sharply, his heart thudding in his chest as a faceless stranger entered the office...it was dark...his hands and face were covered. But there was no scream...only the shattering of a lamp...had she thrown it, or had the killer knocked it aside in his haste to get to her?
Jarod's fingers brushed against the lamp sitting on Mac's desk, and he knew instinctively that Samantha had been the one to throw the lamp, attempting to deter her assailant. Her wrists were grabbed as the killer jerked her up short, close, his breath hot in her face and her heart fairly leaping from her chest in fear. In desperation, she broke one hand away and searched vainly for something...anything...
The letter opener. Jarod abruptly stopped, looking at the pictures again. A letter opener that was now missing and sure to contain traces of blood that might prove useful in identifying the killer.
Find the letter opener...and he might just find the answers Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Austin were searching for.
*~*~*
Budg-it Motel
2157 Hours
Annoyed didn't even begin to describe how Parker was feeling at the moment. Once again, at the whims of Jarod's genius, she was stuck in a cheap dive of a motel, wishing desperately for a drink and chain-smoking to preserve her sanity.
At least the air conditioning worked.
The whims of genius. Pausing in her pacing for a moment, Parker glanced at the gun that laid on the table nearby. A gun that had been aimed at that genius more than once, but now may be called upon to save his life. Because his weren't the only whims that were controlling her present state of misery. Accompanying them were the whims of Mr. Raines, and the sweeper team that even now was searching this little naval hellhole for their target.
"Jarod. God, isn't there anything in my life that doesn't revolve around that man?" She finally exclaimed aloud, a mini-explosion of frustration as she raked a hand through her hair.
"Anything I can do for you, Miss Parker?" Melvin poked his head into the motel room, having been standing outside for a little air.
"Yes..." Parker's tone was a cross between pleading and menacing, a combination that was somewhere between 'help me' and 'I'll kill you now.' Oddly interesting to say the least. "Tell me where the hell that Navy officer, Rabb went. He's supposed to be telling me where Jarod is, not leaving me here to rot while Raines' little toy soldiers attempt to blow our sailor-boy's head off."
"Yes, ma'am." Melvin replied instantly, politely. Parker looked up at the ceiling; in her current emotional state the sweeper's polite manner was almost sweet enough to bring on a sugar overdose. It was a signal of an imminent explosion, and Melvin quickly followed up his acknowledgement, "There's some kind of Naval institute or center around here, in town."
*~*~*
Austin's Apartment Parkade
2200 hours
Hawkes let out a long series of cuss words that would have made a sailor blush. When he *listened* to this lieutenant talking to herself out loud, he smiled to himself knowing his little devices were working. He started to worry, but only briefly when she was reviewing the forensics report, and she was talking about his blood type. Everything seemed to be smooth sailing until she received that damn phone call. He sat up immediately when he heard about the *man in black*. They had discovered a video. It was now possible that they had a visual on him.
He watched her change, feeling a slight surge run through his blood before his mind switched over to survival mode. He would have to get his hands on those files, especially that video. *As soon as she leaves....*
That idea was quickly dashed when he saw her scoop up the files and tuck them securely into her brief case. Hawkes turned off the surveillance equipment and hopped into the driver's seat of the van. He waited for her to emerge from the elevator.
A few minutes later, she walked out. She appeared to be fumbling for something while balancing her brief case, hat and keys. He watched her place an object on her shoulder and lean into it. Swinging open the glass doors, he could hear her talking now.
"Yes ma'am.... yes, just received a call saying we may have a visual on our man.... no ma'am, they're working on that right now. Yes.. yes.. I'm on my way over now." He heard her say *rats* when she dropped her car keys and he had to laugh because he would have been saying something worse then that if it was him.
He watched her bend down to fish around for her keys, still managing to balance the other items in her arms. "No, I have not talked to him." *Him? Who him?* he thought. "No. Actually ma'am, it was he who asked Lieutenant Roberts to inform me regarding the tape.... No, I doubt the commander will be there." *Oh, that him.* he scowled. "Alright, yes ma'am. I will see you then."
She closed her cellular, fished out her keys from under her vehicle, then climbed into her car. He heard the roar of her engine as it fired up. He seemed to be half mesmerized as he was barely paying attention because she backed up her Mustang, and while shifting it to drive, she glanced in his direction.
Not wanting to bring too much attention to himself, he glanced away and pretended to gather his belongings before he got out of his van to go *home*. He was relieved to see, she showed no general interest in him whatsoever. Although, come to think about it, that probably was a bad thing. She probably had interest in the Navy's *poster boy* he saw her with the other day.
He growled, suddenly disgusted with himself for the way he was dressed, or smelled for that matter. It was damn hot sitting in a van all evening, watching her. He must admit, he felt a tinge of regret for having to kill her soon.
Friday Evening
Harm's Apartment
1900 hours
It took a few moments to answer the insistant knocking on the door. "COMING!" he yelled. Opening the door with a rather irritated look on his face, he was surprised to see Sarah standing there. "Mac??"
"I hope so, otherwise there are two of us running around in town." She smirked.
"Are you trying to give me nightmares, Major?" he bantered. He was desperately trying to keep the mood light, especially after this morning when he had snapped at her, vented out his frustrations to the first person who happened to walk through his office door, and that had been McKenzie.
"Oh shush up, grab your jacket, I need pizza." she placed her hands on her hips. She could see in his eyes that he was still quite upset about whatever that had happened prior to this morning. She knew he needed a friend right now, whether he knew it or not.
"Is this your way of asking me for a date?"
Tapping her foot on the hard wood floor, she raised a brow at him. "Forget about that dress whites and gold wings thing Harm... I already told you once that was over rated... it's dinner time and I'm hungry.. get your coat."
"Mm hmm. We'll see." Grinning, he grabbed his jacket, shoving Sarah out the door, then locked up his apartment. "So, since you asked me on this date, where are you taking me?"
She just glanced at him, and said one word. "Pizza." Sarah pulled her jeep in front of a dark little building. Harm glanced at it, hoping that this was not the place they were going to have dinner. It didn't appear to be a place that would serve good pizza.
The exterior of the building was almost run down. The appearance was a shabby little shack that looked like it could almost fall apart with the lightest of breezes. There was only one medium sized window and a single wooden door.
Stepping out of her jeep, he immediately sensed the aroma of pizza. Harm followed Sarah into the little restaurant. The interior was just as dark, little candles on the eight tables that were spread about the main floor. He could see the cook through the open passageway throwing the dough in the air. Harm had to admit that there was some feeling of atmosphere here that he enjoyed.
Their waiter sat them at a table where the little window was. "Nice to see you again Sarita." Sarah in turn, smiled. "The usual for you and your young man?" he inquired.
"Please." It was all he waited to hear. "And he's not...." she trailed off and watched him walk away. She avoided looking at Harm by glancing out the window.
"I'm afraid to ask what the usual is."
"You'll see." Mac sighed, relieved that the topic was changed. "So, did you talk to Meg about the letter opener?"
"Mmm, I did, yes." he waited for her to prompt him, and she did not let him down.
"And??"
"And.. you were right, it was a gift." Harm watched as their waiter scurried in to drop off two glaces of root beers on their table. He took a sip. "She said that she didn't question it being missing because she thought it was taken out of the office for evidence to the crime.
Sarah sat back smugly. "So the question now is... where is it?"
*~*~*
Meg Austin's Apartment
2138 hours
Meg self consciously looked over her shoulder once again. She spent the last hour walking around her living room talking to herself about this case. At this point she was willing to work on anything just to keep her mind off other things.
"Forensics found blood at the scene, blood that was not the victims." Tapping the report lightly, she skimmed further down. "Rare blood type even, gee that cuts it down to a couple hundred thousand people." Flipping through the papers, she settled on the photos taken of Samantha's body on the floor, various angles and came across one with her right hand placed by her face. "Broken nail..." Grabbing the forensics report once again, she looked for any information saying they found skin under her nails.
The phone rang and she involuntarily jumped before answering it. "Hello?"
"Lieutenant Austin?"
"This is she."
"Lieutenant JG. Bud Roberts, ma'am."
"Bud, how are you?"
"Fine ma'am, thank you." he was trying to sound professional. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry it took me this long to get the information you requested from Commander Rabb."
The mention of his name made her suck in air. *What was it I requested? Think... * "No problem."
"I finally managed to get the video tape of the parkade from security. I think we may have something." he paused. "The tape shows a man in black walking out of an elevator at around the same time the murdered occurred."
"Do we have a good visual?" she sat up straighter. *Its possible we may have our lead.*
"We're working on enhancing it now ma'am. I just thought perhaps you would be interested. The commander did tell me to keep you advised."
"Thank you Bud, excellent job. You just made my night." she checked her watch. "What are you doing still at work at this hour?" Meg went towards her bedroom to get changed, she was going to go and see this tape for herself.
"I had my exam tonight and I was so wired, I figured I would come in and follow up on this."
"I owe you big time. Listen, I'm getting changed now and will be in ASAP. I'll see you then, lieutenant." Meg hung up the phone and changed out of her Navy sweats into her khakis. She pinned her short blonde hair back into a pony tail, grabbed her car keys and walked towards the door before pausing. "Guess I better take these in case I need them." Scooping up the case files, she then left to go find her Mustang in the parkade. It was a little cool to have the top down tonight.
*~*~*
JAG Headquarters
2146 Hours
Jarod had returned to JAG, on the principle that most of the others would be gone and he would have time to put himself to work before Miss Parker and the
Centre could draw a bead on him.
Dinner with Kate Pike had proved to be a good beginning, a chance to plant the seed in her mind that she had a sibling who would want to know of her existence. Jarod was leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled together in a posture of thought. One thing was certain, however. Once Pike and Parker were introduced to one another, there would have to be safeguards put into place to protect the Naval officer from the Centre. They must not be allowed to get their demented hands on her. Well, there would be at least a little time allowed for that later on.
Sitting up straighter, he turned his train of thought to the Samantha Collins
case...Collins and...Arsenal. All of it, he thought bleakly, turned on the Centre. Arsenal, after all had been a Centre project, contracted through the U.S. Navy. His simulations of its use had indicated it would be a great asset to naval operations. Except that they had presented it to him without explaning that it wasn't truly operational. That there were flaws. He ran the sim like it was a flawless, perfect creation of technology.
A creation of technology that Samantha Collins had died for. What had his
curiousity now however, was not so much what she died for but...how she died. He had the photographs strewn all over his desktop now, the pictures of her body lying
there in the office, the blue eyes staring emptily, lifelessly. Lying with her limbs akimbo, covered in blood and the gun lying close by, presumably where nerveless fingers had dropped it upon her death.
Jarod opened another file that was on his desk; this one contained the autopsy and category of physical evidence from the office in which Collins lost her
life. The cause of death had been ruled to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound to
the head; the broken neck coming from the subsequent falling of the body against
the corner of the desk on the way down.
Falling against the desk...
Jarod pulled the pictures closer again, eyes searching, his expression
reflecting intense concentration. His finger idly traced the image of the sharp
desk edge, and then the position of the fallen body. Dark eyes gauged the distance between the body and the desk, then glanced up to follow the edges of his own desk, his mind working over the mental image of Samantha Collins standing before it with a gun to her head...
"No." He finally murmured to himself, completely convinced, like Commander
Rabb, that this was not a suicide. This had been murder. "This was made to look like she killed herself, but her neck was already broken."
Rising silently from his seat, photographs still in hand, he wandered through the bullpen, mind still working over his conclusion with razor- sharp precision. He paused a moment, cocking his head slightly. Mac's office would do.
Picking a lock was not a problem for a genius, but Jarod was spared the exercise in breaking and entering as the door had been left unlocked. Stepping inside and closing the door, he glanced at the pictures, then closed his eyes, thinking.
Pretending.
In his mind's eye, he was Samantha Collins, closing up after a long day, perhaps already thinking of home and what she would make for supper. Maybe she had looked out the window, checking the weather for the trek across the parkade...
Jarod drifted over by the window, his eyes open again, but seeing things as Samantha Collins would have seen them. There was a noise...someone opening the door.
Jarod snapped around sharply, his heart thudding in his chest as a faceless stranger entered the office...it was dark...his hands and face were covered. But there was no scream...only the shattering of a lamp...had she thrown it, or had the killer knocked it aside in his haste to get to her?
Jarod's fingers brushed against the lamp sitting on Mac's desk, and he knew instinctively that Samantha had been the one to throw the lamp, attempting to deter her assailant. Her wrists were grabbed as the killer jerked her up short, close, his breath hot in her face and her heart fairly leaping from her chest in fear. In desperation, she broke one hand away and searched vainly for something...anything...
The letter opener. Jarod abruptly stopped, looking at the pictures again. A letter opener that was now missing and sure to contain traces of blood that might prove useful in identifying the killer.
Find the letter opener...and he might just find the answers Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Austin were searching for.
*~*~*
Budg-it Motel
2157 Hours
Annoyed didn't even begin to describe how Parker was feeling at the moment. Once again, at the whims of Jarod's genius, she was stuck in a cheap dive of a motel, wishing desperately for a drink and chain-smoking to preserve her sanity.
At least the air conditioning worked.
The whims of genius. Pausing in her pacing for a moment, Parker glanced at the gun that laid on the table nearby. A gun that had been aimed at that genius more than once, but now may be called upon to save his life. Because his weren't the only whims that were controlling her present state of misery. Accompanying them were the whims of Mr. Raines, and the sweeper team that even now was searching this little naval hellhole for their target.
"Jarod. God, isn't there anything in my life that doesn't revolve around that man?" She finally exclaimed aloud, a mini-explosion of frustration as she raked a hand through her hair.
"Anything I can do for you, Miss Parker?" Melvin poked his head into the motel room, having been standing outside for a little air.
"Yes..." Parker's tone was a cross between pleading and menacing, a combination that was somewhere between 'help me' and 'I'll kill you now.' Oddly interesting to say the least. "Tell me where the hell that Navy officer, Rabb went. He's supposed to be telling me where Jarod is, not leaving me here to rot while Raines' little toy soldiers attempt to blow our sailor-boy's head off."
"Yes, ma'am." Melvin replied instantly, politely. Parker looked up at the ceiling; in her current emotional state the sweeper's polite manner was almost sweet enough to bring on a sugar overdose. It was a signal of an imminent explosion, and Melvin quickly followed up his acknowledgement, "There's some kind of Naval institute or center around here, in town."
*~*~*
Austin's Apartment Parkade
2200 hours
Hawkes let out a long series of cuss words that would have made a sailor blush. When he *listened* to this lieutenant talking to herself out loud, he smiled to himself knowing his little devices were working. He started to worry, but only briefly when she was reviewing the forensics report, and she was talking about his blood type. Everything seemed to be smooth sailing until she received that damn phone call. He sat up immediately when he heard about the *man in black*. They had discovered a video. It was now possible that they had a visual on him.
He watched her change, feeling a slight surge run through his blood before his mind switched over to survival mode. He would have to get his hands on those files, especially that video. *As soon as she leaves....*
That idea was quickly dashed when he saw her scoop up the files and tuck them securely into her brief case. Hawkes turned off the surveillance equipment and hopped into the driver's seat of the van. He waited for her to emerge from the elevator.
A few minutes later, she walked out. She appeared to be fumbling for something while balancing her brief case, hat and keys. He watched her place an object on her shoulder and lean into it. Swinging open the glass doors, he could hear her talking now.
"Yes ma'am.... yes, just received a call saying we may have a visual on our man.... no ma'am, they're working on that right now. Yes.. yes.. I'm on my way over now." He heard her say *rats* when she dropped her car keys and he had to laugh because he would have been saying something worse then that if it was him.
He watched her bend down to fish around for her keys, still managing to balance the other items in her arms. "No, I have not talked to him." *Him? Who him?* he thought. "No. Actually ma'am, it was he who asked Lieutenant Roberts to inform me regarding the tape.... No, I doubt the commander will be there." *Oh, that him.* he scowled. "Alright, yes ma'am. I will see you then."
She closed her cellular, fished out her keys from under her vehicle, then climbed into her car. He heard the roar of her engine as it fired up. He seemed to be half mesmerized as he was barely paying attention because she backed up her Mustang, and while shifting it to drive, she glanced in his direction.
Not wanting to bring too much attention to himself, he glanced away and pretended to gather his belongings before he got out of his van to go *home*. He was relieved to see, she showed no general interest in him whatsoever. Although, come to think about it, that probably was a bad thing. She probably had interest in the Navy's *poster boy* he saw her with the other day.
He growled, suddenly disgusted with himself for the way he was dressed, or smelled for that matter. It was damn hot sitting in a van all evening, watching her. He must admit, he felt a tinge of regret for having to kill her soon.
