The Spider and the Fly XVII
Naval Station Annapolis sits on Greenbury Point, shaped where the Severn River spills into the mighty Chesapeake. Directly across the mouth of Severn from the US Naval Academy, it is considered an ideal posting for 600 or so service members with its beautiful rural setting in the Broadneck Peninsula. Both the academy and the naval station have a close relationship with the local communities through sponsorship and other programs. When the Navy Times awarded this enclave 'Best Small Base of the Year' in 2001, it cited location and family-like civilian population in the honor.
The Naval Station provides primary support for the more than 4000 midshipmen enrolled at the academy. It maintains the sail and power fleet of more than 250 watercraft. Repairing these boats are specialists in electronics, navigation, rigging, hull integrity and carpentry. The Sail Loft, the only one of its kind in the Navy, makes over 200 sails a year for the different sail craft at the academy including Navy 44s and dinghy's.
The Naval Station is also responsible for small weapons training. During Plebe summer, all incoming midshipmen are trained on both the M16 service rifle and the M9 service pistol. USMC Annapolis Company located at the Naval Station provides security for the base and academy as well as administrative support for Marine Corps teaching staff and midshipmen who chose the Marine option.
Harm was sitting, slouched forward at a small café table twirling the remnants of an ice tea at Tsunami Sushi Bar on West Street in Annapolis. He could hear a clock ticking in his head. Gibbs and he had spent a fruitless afternoon methodically checking out the Naval Station. Nothing on the base came to light to confirm or disprove Harm's theory. It was starting to look like they should pursue a new tack.
Gibbs signed off his credit card receipt and stood up. "Let's go. Perhaps there is something new waiting for us when we get back to Washington." Gibbs felt a twinge of sympathy for the ex-commander. He too, in the past, had investigations only lead to a dead-end.
As they walked down West Street towards the municipal parking lot, Gibbs commented, "Seems crowded here. Why are there so many people?"
Harm looked around at the streets teaming with people and dismissed it. "It is Commissioning Week at the Academy."
Gibbs considered this. "About one thousand midshipmen are graduating, right?"
"Yeah," said Harm. "Somewhat less than one thousand by the fourth year. A lot of attrition goes on to get to this point. Big event for the city of Annapolis. Over fifteen thousand tourists come into the city for the week, mostly family and friends to join in the weeklong celebration. I bet there isn't a hotel room to be found right now." He watched as a young, white-uniformed midshipman walked by with an older couple.
"You went through all of this didn't you?" Gibbs tried to imagine what Harm was like 17 odd years ago.
"Yeah," said Harm briefly.
"You like all of this pomp and ceremony?"
Harm sighed. "Not really sure. All I know is that it was the culmination of four of the hardest but most rewarding years of my life. After Plebe summer, the first year? I was determined to quit. I hated it. Too many rules for me. Guess I was sort of a willful kid. But a sympathetic sponsoring family and some good friends talked me out of it. I stuck it out. And I'm glad I did."
"I never had an opportunity like this," said Gibbs. "Almost failed out of high school, so I joined the marines. I still would put marine boot camp up against Plebe summer any day. It was hard."
They walked in silence. Gibbs narrowed his eyes for a minute, thinking. "What else goes on during Commissioning Week?"
"Well, it culminates in the graduation ceremony. I believe Donald Rumsfeld is the keynote speaker this year. Did you know that locals watch the ceremony and then wait for the middies to throw their covers in the air? They grab them. A middie's cover is somewhat of a prize."
Harm stopped suddenly. He was looking at the model of a Blue Angels Fighter in the storefront window at Ben and Jerry's. A sign advertised ice cream cakes for graduating midshipmen.
Gibbs stopped too, puzzled. "You want ice cream?"
"No," said Harm. He turned to Gibbs. "I know the target for the stingers." He pointed to the model bedecked ice cream cake. "The Blue Angels perform every year at the final ceremony. What a coup that would be. To take down a couple of high performance fighters in front of the Secretary of Defense."
#
Mac looked up from the book she was reading. It was 2302 and she could hear a gentle tapping at her apartment door. She frowned and wondered if she should answer it. She reached into her bedside table and grabbed the box with her service pistol. She unlocked the box and loosened the weapon from it's padding. She walked toward the front door while placing the opened box on the hallway table. Just taking the proper precautions, she assured herself. I'm not paranoid.
She peered through the peephole. Harm was standing on the other side. Relieved, she opened the door to let him in.
"Hi," she said. "It is kind of late isn't it?" Actually it was good to seem him. Ever since she got the news earlier in the day that Saddiq could be in the US, she had felt uneasy. She smiled at him, trying to gauge his mood.
"Just wanted to check on you before I called it a day. You heard about Saddiq?" said Harm walking past her into the room.
"Yeah. Sobering news to say the least. This is what you are working on with the CIA, right?"
"Yeah. Mac, you have to be careful. From everything that we have, we feel he will be operating around this area," said Harm.
"I'll be careful. I'm a marine, right? I can take of myself. The admiral has tightened security and I'm in the courtroom all week. I'm not worried," said Mac.
"Not worried, huh?" Harm spied the open gun case on the table.
"Maybe a little. What about you? Could be after you too," said Mac.
"I hope so. That would be one way to locate his whereabouts. Actually, I believe he probably will leave us all alone. If he is out to do what I think he is, he doesn't have a lot of time. His revenge will take a different form."
"What do you think is going to happen, Harm?" she asked quietly. They sat together at the kitchen table.
"This is supposed to be classified right?"
"Harm, I passed 'the need to know' test when I put on that maternity suit for Clay. Tell me. What is going on?"
He hesitated for a minute and then quickly relented. Brainstorming with Mac was never a negative thing. He sketched out the details of the case.
"So that is what you think will happen. Have you located Saddiq or his three operatives in this area?" said Mac.
"No, after Saddiq landed in Toronto, surveillance quickly lost track of him. He knew he was being watched. We are hoping he turns up soon. We have people watching suspected locations in this area, hoping he or one of them will turn up. We are also trying to track a case of stinger missiles sold to a member of this network in the Med. Tomorrow, Gibbs and I are meeting early with Academy security to go through what we know. Tomorrow is the practice performance for the Blue Angels over the academy. I want to watch that. It might give me a clue."
"Would they cancel the Blue Angel's performance?" she said.
"Not likely," he replied. "Not enough solid evidence and a disruption like that would only serve to play into the terrorist's hands. We just need to stop them."
They continued to discuss the merits of this and that. Soon the conversation petered out and Harm rested his head on the top of the high backed kitchen chair. He knew he should go but for some reason he felt reluctant. He was worried about her despite all of the logic to the contrary. It was going to be hard to leave.
Mac looked at him with his eyes closed. He looked tired. "Harm?" she asked. "Why don't you sleep here tonight? I have a spare bed." She motioned to the second door down the hall.
He looked at her. She was sitting across from him wearing a light cotton flowered robe over a matching nightgown. He eyes flitted across her face taking in her intent expression. He tried to summon up a few reasons why he ought to refuse, but not one came to mind. He sighed once then said. "I need to get up early. I'm meeting Gibbs in Annapolis at 0700."
"I'm an early bird too. I'll set my alarm for 0500. It will give me time for a good run before work. Okay?" She led him down the hall to the guest room. He raised his eyebrows at the frilly pink bedspread and curtains.
"Whaaat? I keep this room for Chloe. She helped me decorate it," she said smiling.
"Nice. It's just that I don't think of you as the frilly type." She walked past him through the doorway and Harm shut his eyes. Hold on there, he thought. I know what you are thinking, man. You have to stop. Didn't Clay tell you that she had visited him every day? He opened his eyes and took a deliberate step back. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"Thanks Mac," he said as she threw a towel from the hall closet at him. "But I'll take a shower at my apartment in the morning." Take a shower in Mac's bathroom? That definitely would be a bad idea.
She left him in the room and he could hear her walking about the apartment shutting off lights and locking the door.
4
Naval Station Annapolis sits on Greenbury Point, shaped where the Severn River spills into the mighty Chesapeake. Directly across the mouth of Severn from the US Naval Academy, it is considered an ideal posting for 600 or so service members with its beautiful rural setting in the Broadneck Peninsula. Both the academy and the naval station have a close relationship with the local communities through sponsorship and other programs. When the Navy Times awarded this enclave 'Best Small Base of the Year' in 2001, it cited location and family-like civilian population in the honor.
The Naval Station provides primary support for the more than 4000 midshipmen enrolled at the academy. It maintains the sail and power fleet of more than 250 watercraft. Repairing these boats are specialists in electronics, navigation, rigging, hull integrity and carpentry. The Sail Loft, the only one of its kind in the Navy, makes over 200 sails a year for the different sail craft at the academy including Navy 44s and dinghy's.
The Naval Station is also responsible for small weapons training. During Plebe summer, all incoming midshipmen are trained on both the M16 service rifle and the M9 service pistol. USMC Annapolis Company located at the Naval Station provides security for the base and academy as well as administrative support for Marine Corps teaching staff and midshipmen who chose the Marine option.
Harm was sitting, slouched forward at a small café table twirling the remnants of an ice tea at Tsunami Sushi Bar on West Street in Annapolis. He could hear a clock ticking in his head. Gibbs and he had spent a fruitless afternoon methodically checking out the Naval Station. Nothing on the base came to light to confirm or disprove Harm's theory. It was starting to look like they should pursue a new tack.
Gibbs signed off his credit card receipt and stood up. "Let's go. Perhaps there is something new waiting for us when we get back to Washington." Gibbs felt a twinge of sympathy for the ex-commander. He too, in the past, had investigations only lead to a dead-end.
As they walked down West Street towards the municipal parking lot, Gibbs commented, "Seems crowded here. Why are there so many people?"
Harm looked around at the streets teaming with people and dismissed it. "It is Commissioning Week at the Academy."
Gibbs considered this. "About one thousand midshipmen are graduating, right?"
"Yeah," said Harm. "Somewhat less than one thousand by the fourth year. A lot of attrition goes on to get to this point. Big event for the city of Annapolis. Over fifteen thousand tourists come into the city for the week, mostly family and friends to join in the weeklong celebration. I bet there isn't a hotel room to be found right now." He watched as a young, white-uniformed midshipman walked by with an older couple.
"You went through all of this didn't you?" Gibbs tried to imagine what Harm was like 17 odd years ago.
"Yeah," said Harm briefly.
"You like all of this pomp and ceremony?"
Harm sighed. "Not really sure. All I know is that it was the culmination of four of the hardest but most rewarding years of my life. After Plebe summer, the first year? I was determined to quit. I hated it. Too many rules for me. Guess I was sort of a willful kid. But a sympathetic sponsoring family and some good friends talked me out of it. I stuck it out. And I'm glad I did."
"I never had an opportunity like this," said Gibbs. "Almost failed out of high school, so I joined the marines. I still would put marine boot camp up against Plebe summer any day. It was hard."
They walked in silence. Gibbs narrowed his eyes for a minute, thinking. "What else goes on during Commissioning Week?"
"Well, it culminates in the graduation ceremony. I believe Donald Rumsfeld is the keynote speaker this year. Did you know that locals watch the ceremony and then wait for the middies to throw their covers in the air? They grab them. A middie's cover is somewhat of a prize."
Harm stopped suddenly. He was looking at the model of a Blue Angels Fighter in the storefront window at Ben and Jerry's. A sign advertised ice cream cakes for graduating midshipmen.
Gibbs stopped too, puzzled. "You want ice cream?"
"No," said Harm. He turned to Gibbs. "I know the target for the stingers." He pointed to the model bedecked ice cream cake. "The Blue Angels perform every year at the final ceremony. What a coup that would be. To take down a couple of high performance fighters in front of the Secretary of Defense."
#
Mac looked up from the book she was reading. It was 2302 and she could hear a gentle tapping at her apartment door. She frowned and wondered if she should answer it. She reached into her bedside table and grabbed the box with her service pistol. She unlocked the box and loosened the weapon from it's padding. She walked toward the front door while placing the opened box on the hallway table. Just taking the proper precautions, she assured herself. I'm not paranoid.
She peered through the peephole. Harm was standing on the other side. Relieved, she opened the door to let him in.
"Hi," she said. "It is kind of late isn't it?" Actually it was good to seem him. Ever since she got the news earlier in the day that Saddiq could be in the US, she had felt uneasy. She smiled at him, trying to gauge his mood.
"Just wanted to check on you before I called it a day. You heard about Saddiq?" said Harm walking past her into the room.
"Yeah. Sobering news to say the least. This is what you are working on with the CIA, right?"
"Yeah. Mac, you have to be careful. From everything that we have, we feel he will be operating around this area," said Harm.
"I'll be careful. I'm a marine, right? I can take of myself. The admiral has tightened security and I'm in the courtroom all week. I'm not worried," said Mac.
"Not worried, huh?" Harm spied the open gun case on the table.
"Maybe a little. What about you? Could be after you too," said Mac.
"I hope so. That would be one way to locate his whereabouts. Actually, I believe he probably will leave us all alone. If he is out to do what I think he is, he doesn't have a lot of time. His revenge will take a different form."
"What do you think is going to happen, Harm?" she asked quietly. They sat together at the kitchen table.
"This is supposed to be classified right?"
"Harm, I passed 'the need to know' test when I put on that maternity suit for Clay. Tell me. What is going on?"
He hesitated for a minute and then quickly relented. Brainstorming with Mac was never a negative thing. He sketched out the details of the case.
"So that is what you think will happen. Have you located Saddiq or his three operatives in this area?" said Mac.
"No, after Saddiq landed in Toronto, surveillance quickly lost track of him. He knew he was being watched. We are hoping he turns up soon. We have people watching suspected locations in this area, hoping he or one of them will turn up. We are also trying to track a case of stinger missiles sold to a member of this network in the Med. Tomorrow, Gibbs and I are meeting early with Academy security to go through what we know. Tomorrow is the practice performance for the Blue Angels over the academy. I want to watch that. It might give me a clue."
"Would they cancel the Blue Angel's performance?" she said.
"Not likely," he replied. "Not enough solid evidence and a disruption like that would only serve to play into the terrorist's hands. We just need to stop them."
They continued to discuss the merits of this and that. Soon the conversation petered out and Harm rested his head on the top of the high backed kitchen chair. He knew he should go but for some reason he felt reluctant. He was worried about her despite all of the logic to the contrary. It was going to be hard to leave.
Mac looked at him with his eyes closed. He looked tired. "Harm?" she asked. "Why don't you sleep here tonight? I have a spare bed." She motioned to the second door down the hall.
He looked at her. She was sitting across from him wearing a light cotton flowered robe over a matching nightgown. He eyes flitted across her face taking in her intent expression. He tried to summon up a few reasons why he ought to refuse, but not one came to mind. He sighed once then said. "I need to get up early. I'm meeting Gibbs in Annapolis at 0700."
"I'm an early bird too. I'll set my alarm for 0500. It will give me time for a good run before work. Okay?" She led him down the hall to the guest room. He raised his eyebrows at the frilly pink bedspread and curtains.
"Whaaat? I keep this room for Chloe. She helped me decorate it," she said smiling.
"Nice. It's just that I don't think of you as the frilly type." She walked past him through the doorway and Harm shut his eyes. Hold on there, he thought. I know what you are thinking, man. You have to stop. Didn't Clay tell you that she had visited him every day? He opened his eyes and took a deliberate step back. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"Thanks Mac," he said as she threw a towel from the hall closet at him. "But I'll take a shower at my apartment in the morning." Take a shower in Mac's bathroom? That definitely would be a bad idea.
She left him in the room and he could hear her walking about the apartment shutting off lights and locking the door.
4
