The Spider and the Fly XVI

"I thought you asked me all of your questions yesterday." said Webb.

Clay was sitting up in bed reading the Washington Post. The white bandages on his hands that held the newspaper were a reminder of his ordeal. Surgery had repaired ligaments and tendons but the burns would leave a scar here and a few other locations on his battered body. Pain had been reduced by medication. Although regaining his health was going to be slow, Clay was grateful he was alive. He owed a lot to the man currently seating himself in a bedside chair.

"I have a couple of new ideas. Plus I need to ask a favor," said Harm.

"Where is your sidekick, Gibbs?" said Clay.

"He is doing some background work at NCIS. We are meeting later in Annapolis."

"Annapolis. Let me guess you have narrowed it to Annapolis. The academy, perhaps?"

"Perhaps. Could be also the Bay Bridge. Let me go through my logic with you," said Harm and Clay listened intently to his arguments.

After fifteen minutes of wrangling details back and forth. Clay shifted in the bed and stared out the window. "I see one fatal flaw in all of your logic, Harm. What we, excuse me, what you destroyed in Paraguay were stinger missiles. What is the primary function of a stinger missile? To shoot down aircraft. How effect would a stinger be on a bridge or a building. Not much."

"Maybe they've shifted their target since Paraguay."

"Just because a few missiles were destroyed? Wrong. Past experience has taught us that these operations are planned years in advance. When they buy stingers, they have something specific in mind for them."

"Why then, would we have so much evidence that points to this area?" said Harm. Clay had a challenging mind. Good. He needed to clarify his thoughts.

"I don't know. Have you looked at airports nearby? BWI is somewhere near there, isn't it? I believe stingers work up to 11,000 feet. An airplane making an approach to a runway would be lower than that. And what about Fort Meade?" said Clay.

"Which brings me to the favor I wanted to ask. I need to get some information on these men. And I also want to know what the latest intelligence is on the whereabouts of Saddiq," said Harm handing Clay a white sheet of paper with three names on it.

"Why don't you ask the CIA yourself?" Clay said. "You work there, don't you?"

"By the time I got Gertrude satisfied with my security level, taken the background course on "Working in a secure environment" and jumped through all of the hoops they expect from a new person, it will be two months from now. I need this information now," said Harm.

"And you think I can cut through the red tape. I'm touched Harm," smiled Clay. "Pass me the phone, will ya?"

While Clay dialed his phone, Harm stood up and stretched his legs. Despite Clay's skepticism, Harm felt he was right. What was he failing to see here?

Clay closed up the secured cell and spoke. "Okay, I've left those three names with an analyst. He will probably have the information you are looking for before end of this workday."

"What about Saddiq?"

"Interesting you should ask. He left Paraguay yesterday and latest intelligence has him landing today in Toronto."

"Canada? That means he is going to slip into the US across the border."

"Yeah. Hard to police a 5,500 mile border. For either side. And Canadian/US trade volume is larger than total US trade with entire European Union. That means there are lots of opportunities to hide. But that is not the only thing that worries me," said Clay.

"This means the attack is imminent," Harm said soberly. "He wouldn't risk entering the US otherwise."

"Yeah."

Both Clay and Harm were silent. Another thought occurred to Harm and he glanced quickly over to Clay. "How safe are you and Mac, with Saddiq in the US?"

"Let's hope he is distracted by other activities," said Clay slowly. It wasn't a very comforting thought.

"That little operation was not very covert by the end. It is likely he knows who and what you are, Clay," said Harm.

"I'll put a call into Chegwidden to watch out for Mac," he said. "Harm? He probably knows who you are too."

"I can take care of myself. Just make sure they keep Mac safe, okay?"

"Yeah," Clay watched as Harm walked slowly towards the door. "Harm?"

He turned and looked to look at Clay lying on the bed. "Yeah?"

"Have you talked much with Mac since Paraguay?" said Clay.

"A little. I've been busy. You?" said Harm turning once again towards the door.

"She has been here to see me every night since she returned," said Clay. He watched as Harm waved wordlessly and left. As the door closed, he added a few words to himself. "...never alone. She always brings someone with her." Clay stared out the window, contemplating the state of his life and what had brought him to this point.

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