0800
US Navy HQ
London, England
As soon as Harm, Mac and Lynn arrived at his office, Admiral Grant put Admiral Grant was interrupted and he dismissed them saying, "If you need anything, Miss O'Connor will be able to provide you with assistance."
With that, Harm, Mac and Lynn headed for the conference room they were going to use as a base of operations.
"Your lip looks better this morning, Lynn," Mac said.
"Thanks," Lynn replied. "I took the liberty of pulling the names and personnel files of anyone I could think of who could have seen and taken the file."
Harm and Mac stopped walking. They looked at each other completely surprised, and then looked at Lynn. "Mac and I tried to think of people who could have seen the file," Harm said, "We figured it would be one of five people."
"The Admiral, his yeoman, the carrier, the receiver and the deliver," Lynn said.
Mac's mouth hung open for a moment. Lynn had just repeated the list she had she had said the night before. "How did you figure that out?"
"I went back to my office last night and I looked up the procedures for handling sensitive information," Lynn confessed, "Classified materials come into Navy HQ with the other official correspondence. The person who receives it sorts the material based on order of classification level. Anything that's labeled as 'secret' or 'classified' is sent directly to Admiral Grant's office, where the yeoman sorts it again, according to the classification level. Finally, the Admiral reads all the classified material in order of importance, and when he finishes, the yeoman files them."
Mac stared at her open mouthed and Harm's eyes were wide with disbelief.
"What?" Lynn asked.
"Do you have a photographic memory?" Mac asked half joking.
Lynn smiled shyly, "No, but I have to learn things quickly, it's part of my job."
"So, our guess was right, then," Harm said and Lynn nodded. "So, let's start by talking to the guy who receives the mail."
After stowing their coats and briefcases in the conference room, they walked down to the receiving desk.
"Excuse me, sergeant," Mac said to the Marine on duty, "Who's in command of receiving official correspondence?"
"I am, ma'am."
"I need to know how many files marked 'classified' arrived here yesterday," Mac ordered.
The young marine bent down and pulled a thick binder from a shelf behind the desk. "Anything that arrived yesterday is marked in the log book, ma'am," he said opened the book and found the log from the day before. "There was one 'classified file delivered yesterday."
"Who delivered it?" Harm asked.
"Someone from the Embassy, sir. I didn't catch her name."
"What time was that?" Mac asked.
"1128, ma'am."
"How did it arrive?" Harm asked, "Was it separate from the other correspondence when it got to you?"
"No, sir," the corporal replied, "All correspondence from the Embassy arrives together in a canvas mail bag. I separate it and send it to where it needs to be."
Mac asked, "Who carried the classified file up to Admiral Grant's office?" "I did, ma'am. I was just about to go off duty, so I carried it up to the Admiral's yeoman, Petty Officer Cartwright."
"Thank you, Corporal," Harm said.
"If I can help with anything else, sir, just let me know."
"We will, Corporal," Mac told him, "Carry on."
The young man snapped to, then returned to his duties. Mac and Harm turned to Lynn, who had been standing behind them taking notes on the conversation.
"You seem to disappear into the décor," Mac commented.
"Thank you, Mac," Lynn replied, "That's the goal of attaches."
"Lesson number one at attaché school?" Mac teased, and Lynn smiled.
They began to walk back to the conference room, and as they walked Lynn said quietly, "We've narrowed it down to three."
"Corporal Carlson, the yeoman, and Admiral Grant," Mac finished.
"There are other's who may have access to the secure file room," Harm reminded them.
"How many others?" Mac queried and looked at Lynn.
"I don't know, ma'am," she answered, "But I think Petty Officer Cartwright would."
Harm nodded. "Let's go."
The continued up the steps and walked straight to Petty Officer Cartwright's desk, which was situated in front of the Admiral's door. As they approached, he rose to attention.
"As you were, Petty Officer," Harm said and the young man sat down. "We need to know how many people have access to the secure filing room."
"Sir, Admiral Grant and myself are the only people who know the code to the padlock," he replied crisply, but looking somewhat confused.
"What's going on out here?" the Admiral boomed from behind them.
Harm and Mac went rigid as they stood at attention, but the admiral waved them off a moment later.
"Sir, we're just trying to figure it out," Mac said.
"I see," he replied grumpily, then he addressed Petty Officer Cartwright in a softer voice, "File this, son."
"Aye, aye, sir," he replied as the Admiral disappeared back into his office.
Harm saw that the file was marked 'classified' and he signaled Mac with his eyes. She nodded and then walked toward the other side of the room. Lynn caught the drift of their silent conversation and left for another corner. Harm addressed the young man, "Thank you, Petty Officer, carry on."
"Aye, sir," he said and then walked over to a door with a keypad lock. Harm watched after him from a position that was roughly between Mac's and Lynn's. They could all clearly see the number as Petty Officer Cartwright punched them into the keypad. When they regrouped, Mac said, "5-4-5-4-8?"
"We're back to square one," Harm said.
As soon as Harm, Mac and Lynn arrived at his office, Admiral Grant put Admiral Grant was interrupted and he dismissed them saying, "If you need anything, Miss O'Connor will be able to provide you with assistance."
With that, Harm, Mac and Lynn headed for the conference room they were going to use as a base of operations.
"Your lip looks better this morning, Lynn," Mac said.
"Thanks," Lynn replied. "I took the liberty of pulling the names and personnel files of anyone I could think of who could have seen and taken the file."
Harm and Mac stopped walking. They looked at each other completely surprised, and then looked at Lynn. "Mac and I tried to think of people who could have seen the file," Harm said, "We figured it would be one of five people."
"The Admiral, his yeoman, the carrier, the receiver and the deliver," Lynn said.
Mac's mouth hung open for a moment. Lynn had just repeated the list she had she had said the night before. "How did you figure that out?"
"I went back to my office last night and I looked up the procedures for handling sensitive information," Lynn confessed, "Classified materials come into Navy HQ with the other official correspondence. The person who receives it sorts the material based on order of classification level. Anything that's labeled as 'secret' or 'classified' is sent directly to Admiral Grant's office, where the yeoman sorts it again, according to the classification level. Finally, the Admiral reads all the classified material in order of importance, and when he finishes, the yeoman files them."
Mac stared at her open mouthed and Harm's eyes were wide with disbelief.
"What?" Lynn asked.
"Do you have a photographic memory?" Mac asked half joking.
Lynn smiled shyly, "No, but I have to learn things quickly, it's part of my job."
"So, our guess was right, then," Harm said and Lynn nodded. "So, let's start by talking to the guy who receives the mail."
After stowing their coats and briefcases in the conference room, they walked down to the receiving desk.
"Excuse me, sergeant," Mac said to the Marine on duty, "Who's in command of receiving official correspondence?"
"I am, ma'am."
"I need to know how many files marked 'classified' arrived here yesterday," Mac ordered.
The young marine bent down and pulled a thick binder from a shelf behind the desk. "Anything that arrived yesterday is marked in the log book, ma'am," he said opened the book and found the log from the day before. "There was one 'classified file delivered yesterday."
"Who delivered it?" Harm asked.
"Someone from the Embassy, sir. I didn't catch her name."
"What time was that?" Mac asked.
"1128, ma'am."
"How did it arrive?" Harm asked, "Was it separate from the other correspondence when it got to you?"
"No, sir," the corporal replied, "All correspondence from the Embassy arrives together in a canvas mail bag. I separate it and send it to where it needs to be."
Mac asked, "Who carried the classified file up to Admiral Grant's office?" "I did, ma'am. I was just about to go off duty, so I carried it up to the Admiral's yeoman, Petty Officer Cartwright."
"Thank you, Corporal," Harm said.
"If I can help with anything else, sir, just let me know."
"We will, Corporal," Mac told him, "Carry on."
The young man snapped to, then returned to his duties. Mac and Harm turned to Lynn, who had been standing behind them taking notes on the conversation.
"You seem to disappear into the décor," Mac commented.
"Thank you, Mac," Lynn replied, "That's the goal of attaches."
"Lesson number one at attaché school?" Mac teased, and Lynn smiled.
They began to walk back to the conference room, and as they walked Lynn said quietly, "We've narrowed it down to three."
"Corporal Carlson, the yeoman, and Admiral Grant," Mac finished.
"There are other's who may have access to the secure file room," Harm reminded them.
"How many others?" Mac queried and looked at Lynn.
"I don't know, ma'am," she answered, "But I think Petty Officer Cartwright would."
Harm nodded. "Let's go."
The continued up the steps and walked straight to Petty Officer Cartwright's desk, which was situated in front of the Admiral's door. As they approached, he rose to attention.
"As you were, Petty Officer," Harm said and the young man sat down. "We need to know how many people have access to the secure filing room."
"Sir, Admiral Grant and myself are the only people who know the code to the padlock," he replied crisply, but looking somewhat confused.
"What's going on out here?" the Admiral boomed from behind them.
Harm and Mac went rigid as they stood at attention, but the admiral waved them off a moment later.
"Sir, we're just trying to figure it out," Mac said.
"I see," he replied grumpily, then he addressed Petty Officer Cartwright in a softer voice, "File this, son."
"Aye, aye, sir," he replied as the Admiral disappeared back into his office.
Harm saw that the file was marked 'classified' and he signaled Mac with his eyes. She nodded and then walked toward the other side of the room. Lynn caught the drift of their silent conversation and left for another corner. Harm addressed the young man, "Thank you, Petty Officer, carry on."
"Aye, sir," he said and then walked over to a door with a keypad lock. Harm watched after him from a position that was roughly between Mac's and Lynn's. They could all clearly see the number as Petty Officer Cartwright punched them into the keypad. When they regrouped, Mac said, "5-4-5-4-8?"
"We're back to square one," Harm said.