JAG HQ, Falls Church, VA 1445 hrs
RADM AJ Chegwidden aimed a laser-like stare at LCDR Harmon Rabb Jr. who knew he was on the hot-seat. "I've got Constantin's lawyer yappin' at me about verbal abuse coming from that NavIntel puke. You want to tell me what the hell is going on here?" Wood would have caught fire from the intensity of Chegwidden's glare which didn't bode well for Rabb's continued existence.
"I was getting prosecution's interview out of the way when he blundered in like a wayward cow." Harm stated as the admiral glowered. "Special Agent Cleary tried to threaten the prisoner to make him spill but Constantin kept his mouth shut. He wasn't going to speak without his lawyer present."
"I'm going to give Director Tibbetts a call..." Chegwidden growled; his tone as ominous as his countenance. "I want this Constantin's head on a pike for disseminating classified information and this idiot is going to wreck it with his bull-in-a-china-shop routine." AJ didn't ordinarily get worked up like this. As a former Navy SEAL he was schooled on how to remain calm under fire to carry out his mission but lately things irritated him and part of this was some of the escapades that the officer standing in front of him regularly got into. That errant aviator had blundered into a Communist Chinese trap in Hong Kong. And that no-load Ted Lindsey kept telling him about the headache and a half with regards to Rabb getting mixed up with a drug pushing ring when they investigated a crash in the desert near 29 Stumps. He ran his hand over his scalp trying to rub away the rather painful beginnings of a stress headache that he seemed to be getting. "When is Lieutenant JG Austin getting back?" He snapped then mentally smacked himself in the head. He had given her the remainder of her leave but that had slipped his mind in his ire. He assumed that LT JG Austin was spending it with CDR Nakamura and reminding Rabb of that would not go over well with the younger officer. AJ had seen the look in the younger officer's eyes and he knew a jealous man when he saw one. "Forget I asked that. Lieutenant Commander." AJ grumbled. "Forgot..." He said briefly and didn't elaborate further. "Just keep me informed on any new developments with the Constantin case. Commander Rabb."
"Yes, sir." Harm replied. Chegwidden dismissed him and turned to the phone on his desk. As Rabb exited, closing the door behind him, he could hear AJ's sarcastic growl verbally eviscerating the NCIS Director Jeremy Tibbetts on the behavior of the agent under his charge. Harm made his get-away efficiently as AJ got rolling.
As Harm walked away from the admiral's office he was waylaid by LCDR Imes who motioned him into her office and shut the door. As Harm looked at her with a questioning glance, she commented casually, "LCDR Rabb. Got some sensitive information for you. Constantin was seen at the Mason Inn on Wisconsin Avenue with a known intelligence agent for the Russian Foreign Service on May 16th about three weeks before he was hauled in for questioning. It's not known exactly what was discussed between the agent and CDR Constantin but it's safe to suggest matters of high classification."
"Was this NCIS that spotted him or Joe Public on the street calling in? If it's the latter, Constantine's lawyer is going to push the mistaken identity gambit to try and get the case thrown out." Harm looked at Imes; his brows furrowed in thought as to how to counter the defence's argument even before the card was played.
Imes reassured him of the former and the case against Constantin was airtight or at least they figured as much as they were aware of.
Constitution Gardens, Washington DC 1530 hrs
Colonel Mikhail Parlovsky; Russian Foreign Service official and intelligence agent puffed on a Havana cigar even though illegal in the United States, with his Russian official Foreign Ministry visa he had diplomatic immunity from prosecution for possession of a restricted item. The Cuban ambassador had kindly given him a lovely box of fifty cigars the last time he had visited the UN Buildings in New York. Their meeting had taken place in a corridor within the building. The complications this case had produced proved more an irritant than actual difficulty. The American mole that they had placed within the military structure was a way of ensuring they knew American troop movements before any trap was sprung. It was just a matter of prudence even though the Americans would not see it that way. The Americans were paranoid about concepts such as gentleman's agreements. Parlovsky thought that was a quaint notion that served no purpose in the world of espionage.
Ever since the mole was uncovered the Kremlin had been tying up loose ends via the utilization of the street mobs. Hits that made it look like a string of underworld slayings and those who appeared to be the victims of random street violence who, when the victims' histories were uncovered, actually weren't innocent bystanders after all.
Anybody who had been in contact with Commander Constantin was now a target. Constantin was lucky that he was in custody or he would have been eliminated. The Kremlin was doing what it had to in order to make new intelligence inroads into America's military infrastructure and that would take some time. Parlovsky had supervisors but knew that operations went at a pace independent of what his supervisors wanted and he wouldn't do anything to speed up the process. Parlovsky was a practical man; he knew that a project hurried would be full of problems.
Looking down the park trail, Parlovsky got up from the park bench after gazing at the man-made lake for a long while. Mikhail Parlovsky was a man of average height but his long thin skeletal face made him an imposing sight; the air of lethality that surrounded his very person made those who were of ill-intent avoid him. Stalking towards his diplomatic vehicle in the parking lot which was surrounded by five burly ex-Spetznatz; detailed to him for bodyguard duties, he headed back to the consulate. "Golovrev. Did you make sure the vehicle has been untouched?"
"Yes Comrade Parlovsky. We never moved beyond five feet of the vehicle."
"Very well," Parlovsky nodded perfunctorily at the man. The drive back to the Russian Embassy was uneventful. As the nondescript vehicle cruised along Wisconsin Avenue past the US Naval Observatory, in the distance he could see the imposing white building that was the representation of the Rodina in Amerika.
Parlovsky reflected as the vehicle reached the main gates of the Russian Embassy: In forty six years of running intelligence operations he had shown nothing but loyalty towards the Rodina and the Rodina had paid him back in an excess of gray hair and stress related illnesses. The intelligence business was not for the weak-willed, he mused, but one would have to be even more iron willed to be able to run a profiteering operation underneath it all. Luckily he was not romantically attached to anyone so financially he would be able to keep the money. Trud cheloveka kormit, a len' — portit. A job feeds a man, laziness spoils him. Well Parlovsky thought, this man worked for many years with but a mere pittance of recompense from the Rodina and in his old age he was mere rubles away from being penniless after so many years of dedicated service. Who did he have to support him in his old age? Who would give him enjoyment in his elder years as he had slaved for over four decades for the improvement of the Rodina? No family to care for him as he grew infirm. The wave of bitterness washed over him; surprising in its intensity. From now on, Parlovsky thought to himself, he would consider his pocketbook first when undertaking intelligence operations for the Rodina. His welfare would come first in direct inverse proportion as his health declined. He determined that he would retire a wealthy man.
JAG HQ, Falls Church, VA 1645 hrs EST
The minutes ticked away as the file on his desk lay open. The minefield that was the Constantin case scared Harm like nothing he had ever dealt with before. Even the suitcase nuke that he, Meg and Kate had disarmed had never spooked him like the thought of a Russian sweeper team targeting key individuals in the case for elimination. Perhaps it was because his father had disappeared into Russia never to be seen again after going down in Viet Nam. Perhaps it was the knowledge that anyone associated with the Constantin case had a target on their back. Perhaps he was overreacting but after Hemlock and seeing Meg lying motionless in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of her nose and head to relieve the pressure of a bullet to the brain meant for him, maybe he was right to over-react. Sure; he was not in the office at the time but all the same he had the file; had asked Meg to put the file away in her safe. He felt guilty and if it weren't for the admiral asking her to assist with the Constantin case, he would keep her away from this as far as possible. And he had to wrestle with the fact that he had feelings for Meg, even if she wasn't his anymore. He snorted derisively as he thought She never was mine to begin with. We were just friends and co-workers. But he was lying to himself.
Ever since Animal's Medal of Honor investigation it seemed as though Meg had moved beyond Harm. Whether her near-brush with death had created a longing for a relationship that was based on something more than mere physical attraction, or she just found him lacking he couldn't bring himself to think it, but Meg wanted something more than a pretty face and a hot body warming her bed. He prided himself on being more than that. But evidently Meg wanted a man who could give her a connection emotionally, an open emotional connection and the feeling that she would never come second in a relationship. If Harm had to be honest with himself he knew that he could never give Meg that which she craved. He knew that he would always be searching obsessively for his father until he found the answers for which he was seeking and eventually that obsession would drive a wedge in any attempt at a relationship. Their flirtations were fun and tantalizing glimpses into the psyche of one Meg Austin but Harm knew inside that until he got the persistent question mark answered with absolute finality, he could never truly give one hundred percent of himself to any woman and Meg wanted and deserved one hundred percent in a relationship. And he hoped that one Commander Toshio Animal Nakamura, United States Naval Aviator, XO of the VF-41 Black Aces squadron and Congressional Medal of Honor nominee, recognized that he had one special woman in Lieutenant Junior Grade Megan Austin.
Because if he didn't; Harm would rip that sonofabitch a new asshole.
"Lucky sonofabitch!" Harm muttered morosely; resolving that he wouldn't ask what Meg had been doing over the course of her leave with Animal. He figured the less he knew the better, with regards to Meg's relationships.
Grand Del Mar, San Diego, CA 1245 hrs PST
At that exact moment the subjects of Harm's contemplations were nuzzled together closely laying on the bed, Meg's leg draped over Animal's as the breeze from the ceiling fans flowed over their overheated bodies. "Wow" Meg murmured sated as she felt the breeze on her bare skin.
"What was exactly the point of our shower?" asked Animal with a wicked twinkle in his eye. "We're all sweaty again?"
"I don't remember..." Meg said nibbling his earlobe, her breath tickling him. "I seriously think my brain shut down after the last mind blowing..." She grinned, not finishing the sentence and giggled as she saw Animal start to puff up with red-blooded male pride.
"Really?" He grinned.
"Yeah, really" Meg grinned rolling on top of him and looking down at him from her position atop his torso and leaned in to kiss him tenderly. "Love you..."
"I love you too, Meg." Animal replied as he ran his hand along her back sending shivers of pleasure down Meg's spine. "I hate to digress from this line of activity but do you think we should get something to eat?" He asked looking into her eyes "We need to keep our energy levels up if we're planning to continue this or we're going to pass out from exhaustion."
Meg contemplated her choice with an amused expression then reached down under the covers. "Hmmm." She purred throatily as she found what she was reaching for and grasped it firmly causing Animal's eyes to widen dramatically. "Hmmm." She purred again. "This or...Eat. That's a tough choice."
Animal grinned "You're not making this easy, are you?" as he bit the inside of his lip to keep from letting out an impassioned groan as Meg ramped up her exquisite torture of him. "Minx."
An Abandoned Warehouse, Washington DC 1935 hrs EST
"What should we do if we cannot make the hit." The man in shadow, apparently the leader, looked at three others as the question was asked by one of them. All spoke flawless English, a testament to the spy school that they went through back in the capital of their homeland. All of their training had led them here: a squalid little warehouse in a rundown industrial section of Washington DC in which no-one would even consider looking for them. They had been given an assignment by a higher-up diplomat to search for and eliminate an American Naval Commander who had been caught by authorities for transferring information to the Motherland. They were highly trained assassins who cared for nothing but the glory of the Rodina.
"You will not get caught." It was an admonition rather than an encouragement. "You know your fate if you are to be captured." The man in shadow responded to the question. It was a sobering thought that their own country would disavow any connection to what was in essence a citizen but such was the nature of intelligence work. The benefits were only to the state. They were just a dispensable cog in the espionage machine; interchangeable and anonymous.
The target was scheduled to be moved to the Judge Advocate General courthouse and the only way that they could take out the vehicle would be by ambushing the vehicle enroute between the Navy prison and the courthouse. It was assumed that the prisoner would be transferred by standard Navy vehicle; not an armored vehicle but they would bring an RPG just in case. A RPG would appear to be overkill but the target had valuable information on the operations of the Sluzhba vneshney razvedki more widely known as the SVR.
Considering the route from the Navy Brig at the Washington Navy Yard, there were really only a few places where an ambush could be set up in order to eliminate Constantin and there was plenty of chances where unfortunate collateral damage could occur but the shadow-man stood firm that Constantin needed to be removed completely for the good of Mother Russia. He held too much information that the Americans could use to undermine spy networks that were carefully inserted into the United States. His contacts and handlers would all be in danger of discovery.
Ten' chelovek as he was referred to in Russian had operated in the KGB before the fall of the Soviet Union, his grey hair, a testament to his age and experience, he mused as he gazed upon the younger intelligence operatives. He had operated as a sweeper prior to the fall of the Berlin Wall and he was a mentor to this team as well as their guide. "You will strike at the opportune moment. Try to minimize collateral damage as we will need to escape. I have word that he will be moved on the day of the trial and as it is in the morning traffic will be heavy." He paused. "It is inevitable that there will be collateral casualties should you use the RPG however the direktor SVR has stated Constantin is to be eliminated with due prejudice. Is that clear?"
"We serve Mother Russia!" was the unanimous response.
Harm's Apartment, Washington DC, 1935 hrs
(AN: Harm in season 1 had a different apartment than that tenement building north of Union Station)
If it wasn't for the fact that it was pissing rain down, Harm would have gone for a run to take his mind off the multitude of personal and professional problems that were conspiring to give him as Saddam Hussein had stated, prior to getting his ass handed to him on a platter by Coalition forces, the mother of all headaches. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get Meg Austin out of his mind, her tantalizing physique taunting him with the fact that he had to work with her; the indelible fact that she was his JAG investigative partner. She was a beautiful woman and he had to admit to himself that he would have liked to get to know her better; ok he was lying to himself: he wanted to get to know Meg Austin a lot better.
"Damn Animal!" He growled under his breath. "Sneaky sonofabitch!" Animal had just had to slide in and steal Meg from him. But then it was all a matter of tactical maneuvering, Harm thought. Animal was a consummate aerial tactician and a damned opportunist. His sly tactics in Yokosuka and Meg falling for that innocent act: "I'd really like to be at that fly-in..." She'd said. Goddamnit he thought I need a beer! He wandered over to his fridge to grab himself a beer muttering pungent oaths under his breath. And then what had followed that: Meg looking at Animal like a love-sick puppy "I've been thinking about what you said, sir" Harm fumed. "What he said? What he said was to get you in the sack with him, Meg!"
"Hey buddy, I don't know but I sure don't see no Meg 'round here." Harm just about nearly dropped his beer as he turned around to see an open door. "...and I sure hope you ain't developed a habit of talkin' to yourself."