Chapter 33

The first step in bringing the AV crew in on the operation was to get a note to Baggy-- a thirty-ish man with the rather unusual name of Sudhanssu Baggs. He was a British national of Indian descent, and spoke with a heavy accent. He was the technical lead for first shift. He was also one of the top gamers, which gave Harm a simple excuse to talk to him.

Once that was done, all Harm could do was wait. He got his answer the next night, when Baggy came over and dropped into the chair next to him. Since Harm was in the middle of a game, he could only spare a glance in the other's direction.

Baggy sprawled in his seat, a bag of Cheetos in one hand. "The boys and I are going to try to talk Ariel into letting us send George some flowers or what have you in the hospital. We're getting together after things wrap up here--" He gestured toward the game controller in Harm's hands-- "to figure out what we want to do. You want in?"

Harm was impressed. It was a completely plausible story. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Lovely." Baggy grinned, pleased. His smile faded. "Now all I need to do is figure out how to keep the boss from finding out about it. He'd probably try to take over and make it some kind of 'from the office' thing, and take all the credit." He sighed dramatically. "Ah well. He's probably off terrorizing women at La Vida anyway." And with that he got up, winking at Harm as he walked off to talk to some other folks.

Harm got the hint, wondering what Clayton Webb would think of how well these people were playing the subterfuge game. And they didn't even know what was going on yet. All he'd told Baggy was that George's collapse wasn't an accident, and that if the AV crew wanted to help get the guy who did it, he needed to talk to them without anyone knowing, and without cameras.

When the night's session began to wind down, Harm told Baggy he was going to go back to his stateroom for his swim trunks so he could take a few laps in the pool after they decided what to do for George. But what he really needed was an excuse to talk to Mac.

He found her sleeping when he got to the room. He stopped for a moment, savoring the unguarded view of his wife. She lay on her side, with both hands tucked beneath her chin like a little girl. Mac always tried to be so tough. In sleep, though, the stern mask fell away, revealing the luminous, sometimes fragile woman beneath.

Harm resisted the impulse to stroke her hair, knowing she would instinctively turn toward the caress, smiling in her sleep. That would no doubt be his undoing tonight. He was desperately worried for her. Not because she was incapable of taking care of herself, or even because the situation was all that dangerous-- but simply because he loved her so much that it made his chest ache whenever he thought about how much, and how much it would hurt to lose her.

Turning, he went instead to the dresser, purposely fumbling about in the dark. Light sleeper that she was, Mac sat up almost immediately and rubbed her eyes.

"Harm?"

"It's me." He kept his sentences short, clipped. "I just came by to get some things. Go back to sleep." He had his back to her and didn't turn around. Instead, he grabbed what he needed and headed for the bathroom to change.

As he'd hoped, Mac followed him. "Where are you going now?" she demanded, catching the door before he could close it.

"Out." The open door meant the secondary recording system would pick up what they said, so a little arguing was in order.

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, giving him a rather spectacular view considering the lacy number she was wearing. She blinked as he flipped the bathroom light on. "With who?" But her smile belied her tone. It was a wicked, flirtatious smile, one that sent a heated thrill through him.

Harm grinned back, fighting to keep an angry tone to his voice. "Not that it's any of your business, but nobody. I'm going to swim some laps, that's all."

"Harm, I hardly ever see you anymore." She punctuated the statement with a luscious, full-lipped pout. Her dark eyes danced.

"You don't seem to lack for company." Harm crossed the distance to her in a single stride and dragged her into his arms. "Quit it, Mac," he whispered in her ear. "You're killing me." He nibbled her earlobe in retaliation.

Laughing silently, Mac struggled away from him. "Pots and kettles, Harm. You seem to be doing just fine with Ms. Upton." For a moment, her eyes turned serious, begging him not to take offense.

He didn't, though it was his instinctive reaction. "There's nothing going on between us and you know it, Mac." This time it wasn't hard to put aggravation in his voice.

"Well, there's nothing going on between me and Toby, either, so let's just drop it."

"Fine."

"Fine."

In the ensuing silence, Mac shut the bathroom door, turning the handle with exaggerated care to make sure the latch didn't make a noticeable click when it closed. They both breathed sighs of relief.

Mac slipped into his arms for a kiss, which turned into several.

"So what's the story?" she asked when they parted.

Harm stroked the curve of her waist, following it downward until she squirmed and swatted playfully at his hand.

He chuckled. "I'm headed out to talk to the AV crew now. However… Baggy thinks we need someone to run interference with Bob Schleigler, to make sure he doesn't crash the party." He gave her a significant look.

Mac shook her head emphatically. "Oh no, not me."

Harm raised an eyebrow.

Mac rolled her eyes at him. "The man's a Neanderthal."

"Just keep an eye on him. He's supposed to be at La Vida tonight."

"What if he asks me to dance?" She managed to look horrified at the thought.

Harm grinned. "Aw, c'mon, Mac. Where's your take charge, do or die, anything for the Corps spirit?"

She eyed him dubiously. "I must have left it at home along with the rest of my good sense."

Harm turned on his most wheedling smile. "Your nation needs you, Mac…"

She snorted. "Fine, but if he drools on me, I'm rubbing it off on you."

Harm leaned close. "You can rub anything on me you like." He wiggled his eyebrows for effect.

Laughing quietly, she smacked him on the chest.

Harm caught her wrists and pulled her close. "I'd better go. Until we meet again…" He leaned down to kiss her deeply.

Mac twisted her hands free from his grasp, then wrapped her arms firmly around his neck. "I'll be looking forward to it."

#

Harm grabbed the black case containing the satellite phone before he left, hiding it under his towel. That was another reason for the late-night swim. He walked down to the AV room, feeling underdressed in swim trunks, a t-shirt, and bare feet. He missed being in uniform, missed the preciseness of it and the comfort of knowing exactly where he fit in the larger scheme. When they got back to Washington, he promised himself he'd never complain about wearing his uniform again, not even the whites.

All eight members of the technical crew had beaten Harm to the AV room. He found them waiting in a loose circle around the two main camera stations. Conversation died when he walked in, which didn't surprise him too terribly much. These weren't Webb's people. Nonetheless, they were doing a pretty good job so far.

Baggy nodded to one of the other techs, who immediately jumped up and went to one of several floor-to-ceiling racks of electronic equipment. He opened a metal cover to reveal a panel with dozens of little switches on it, each with wires attached. The tech, whose name Harm didn't know, carefully counted his way along one of the rows, then yanked something out of the panel.

That done, the group turned expectantly to look at Harm. He took that to mean the camera covering the room had been disabled. He decided not to ask. In his experience, talented technical people didn't need to be second-guessed. It would only insult them.

"I guess that would be my cue," he said, setting the case containing the satellite phone down on the nearest desk and laying it flat. "I'm going to talk fast so we don't raise too many suspicions. So here it is." He took a deep breath. "I'm Commander Harmon Rabb, United States Navy. I'm a lawyer with the Judge Advocate General Corps. My wife is a Marine Lieutenant Colonel, also with JAG. We're helping with an FBI investigation into rape allegations that were made during the first Temptation Cruise."

Eyes widened all around as Harm went on. "The investigation is focused on Tony Ariel. We believe he arranged the circumstances of the rape incident, and that he drugged George to get him off the ship when he discovered George had been examining the recording system onboard the Radiant Heart. We don't think Ariel knows he was deliberately studying the system-- he just got nervous. However, George had discovered a second control system attached to the cameras in two of the empty cabins, one of which is the cabin where the rape took place. The control system appears to interfere with the operation of the cameras in some manner."

"George works for the FBI?" one of the techs asked incredulously. He looked like he couldn't have been more than twenty. He sat on the lip of one of the consoles, kicking his legs like a little kid.

Harm shook his head. "No, but it doesn't really matter. What I need from you--" he looked around the group, "--is to disable the extra control system in such a way as to be undetectable to whoever is using it. We want a clear recording of whatever Ariel does in those cabins."

Baggy gave him a long, slightly stupefied look. "It's a bit much to take in, Harm."

Harm shrugged. "I know, but it's true anyway. Here." He opened the case and pulled out the satellite phone. Dialing the number Webb had given him, he waited while the connection completed.

"Webb."

"It's me. Put George on."

"And hello to you, too. Are you always this cheerful in the middle of the night?"

"Jut put him on, Clay."

A sigh. "Let me wake him up. Hang on."

Harm handed Baggy the phone. "George can tell you what he knows."

Baggy accepted the bulky piece of equipment, and Harm leaned his hip against a desk as he listened to the conversation. It quickly turned technical, leaving him feeling excluded. But by the time Baggy handed the phone back to Harm, the entire crew had drawn together into a conspiratorial knot, something he took to mean they thought they could do it.

Harm put the phone to his ear. "Clay, you there?"

"Yep." Webb sounded tired. "Is there anything else I should know?"

Harm mentally reviewed their plan. "I don't think so. My only concern is whether Ariel knows we're on to him. This thing with George has to have made him nervous."

"I agree with you there, but I don't know what we can do about it." Harm could hear the unspoken concern in the CIA agent's voice. He worried about Mac almost as much as Harm did. "This isn't my show, unfortunately. But I know Peters, the lead agent on the FBI's side. He's a good guy. He's transferring a response team to the Coast Guard cutter that's shadowing you. They can be onboard in about fifteen minutes, if you need them."

Harm nodded, feeling somewhat reassured. "Thanks, Clay," he told the other man with real gratitude.

"Don't mention it."

Harm cut the connection and turned to Baggy. "Can you guys do this?"

Baggy nodded.

"How long?"

The question elicited a frown. "Not more than forty-eight hours, I should think."

Harm pressed his lips into a thin line. There were about four and a half days left in the cruise. Forty-eight hours would be cutting it pretty close.

"Any way to make it less than that?"

Baggy shrugged. "That's worst case. We'll probably have it done well before then."

Harm was forced to accept that. He glanced over at the two consoles. Each one had a large main screen surrounded by six smaller screens. "Can you view the feed from all the cameras here?"

"Yes."

Harm nodded. "All right. That's it, I think."