A/N: Ok, here's part two. Clay's not here yet. If you're wondering
the poor guy is still in the hospital. It's a long flight from DC to
Jakarta.
Somewhere over the US Heartland
I'm a white knuckle flyer. I've always been that way. My past
flying experiences with Harm have only increased my fears. Harm
swears every time we fly together that the next time he is going to
wear boxing gloves. I always have his hand in a strangulating grip
during take off and landing. He manages to pry my hand loose during
the flight, but come landing I'm a basket case again.
This trip was different. I was so worried about Clay that any
thoughts about falling out of the sky didn't have time to form. The
admiral had been vague about his injuries. A concussion and
shrapnel wounds l could clearly understand. But how bad a
concussion, how bad were the wounds, and where were they? I've had
concussions before and was dizzy even weeks later. Lacerations
decrease mobility, but shrapnel wounds could cause so much more
damage.
My continued worry was making me so antsy that I wanted to run. But
that is severely frowned upon, at 35,000 feet, on a jet, with Air
Marshals just looking for an idiot to make trouble. I didn't need
to be that idiot. I had a job to do. But that job was still
unclear. The only thing that I knew is that Clay needed someone to
help him. And I was that person. I managed to keep calm for the
rest of the flight, but barely.
The flight attendant announced that we would be landing in Los
Angeles in twenty minutes. I began to think about the shopping list
of techno goodies that Bud has requisitioned for me. The laptop and
satellite phone I could handle. But the list included a satellite
video uplink system that could take video feed from a digital
video/still camera. This was not your usual point and shoot which
was all I was capable of using on a good day. I had the feeling
that this trip wasn't going to be `good' in any way, shape, or form.
Twenty minutes later there was another announcement by the lead
flight attendant.
"Ladies and Gentlemen please remain seated as we pull into the
gate. And we really mean it this time. Do not leave your seats
until I make the announcement that you may. The Air Marshall on
board will be in the aisle between coach and first class seating to
assure this. I'm sorry for the inconvenience but we have a special
circumstance that must be handled. Thank you for your cooperation."
Well that was quite an announcement. I hadn't ever heard anything
like that before, but in these times it was understandable. As the
wheels touched down and I had pried my hands from the armrest the
flight attendant approached me.
"Colonel McKenzie?" she said with timidity that I wouldn't have
expected from a senior flight attendant.
"Yes, I'm Colonel McKenzie. What can I do for you?" I asked
curiously.
"Once we arrive at gate there will be Air Marshals to accompany
you to your next departure gate. I've been told to tell you that
the equipment is ready and someone from NCIS is waiting to transfer
it to you."
You could tell that she really wanted to know just who I was to
merit such treatment. For that matter I wondered the same thing
myself. "Thank you, I really appreciate the message. I hate to
inconvenience everyone but this is very important." It seems that I
was the special circumstance.
As we were speaking the plane had pulled to the gate and another
flight attendant had opened the hatch. Two armed men entered the
plane and came directly to my seat.
"M'am will you please come with us?"
"Certainly, lead the way." As I got up the rest of the passengers
were looking at me. Some were curious, others scared, and the rest
were hostile. I shrugged my shoulders, grabbed my carry on and
followed the first marshal. The other took up the rear and we left
the plane and entered the terminal.
The marshals knew where they were going and led me directly to one
of the VIP rooms just down the concourse. As we entered there were
two other men there waiting for us. I was glad to see that I knew
them both.
I was smiling when I said, "Hello Jim, Ramon, it's good to see
familiar faces. Is NCIS supplying me with Bud's wish list?"
"Sarah, you're a sight for sore eyes, come give us a hug!" Jim
stated with a huge grin.
It's funny he and Ramon always called me Sarah; they said that Mac
was a truck, and I wasn't built like any truck they knew. Jim
Morrison was 6' 5" and a former surfer dude. At 35 his blonde hair
had turned prematurely gray. But he still had the tan, blue eyes,
charming smile and gregarious personality. Ramon Gutierrez was his
physical antithesis. He was 5' 8" with caramel skin and chocolate
eyes. He had inherited his features and height from his Mayan
ancestors. He was also reserved until you got to know him. They
were both loyal to friends to the end.
I walked over and gave him the requested hug, then turned and gave
the same to Ramon. Harm, Bud and I had worked with both of them on
an arms smuggling ring two years ago. The five of us had gotten
along unusually well. When the investigation was over we had spent
time with them and their wives Tessa and Marita in Baja. It was a
wonderful two days. We still traded calls and e-mails. Ramon
constantly e-mailed some of the craziest cartoons regarding lawyers
and pilots. Bud took great pleasure in giving Harm grief regarding
the ones that showed pilots ejecting. They were good people, but
even better than that they were the two best investigators that I
knew in NCIS
"Hey, do we look like Spy Gear `R Us?" Ramon said with a straight
face.
I began to giggle. I guess the worry was getting to me. I nodded
to the equipment boxes, "No, you look more like a discount Army-Navy
outlet." They both laughed at that.
"Lady, not only do we have the stuff that Bud requested, but you
have the services of two of the most excellent gentleman
investigators to help you with whatever for the duration."
This was a long speech for Ramon. He was generally not the talker
Jim was, but he was the joker. And he was a techno nerd. He and
Bud had bonded over keyboards.
"You're coming with me? I can't be this lucky. Who pulled what
strings?" I said with a bit of excitement.
Jim gave a wry smile, "Well I don't know. Could be Chegwidden, or
any one of the Joint Chiefs. My boss was told, in no uncertain
terms, that you were to get you whatever you needed and to send two
of his best. And here we are. So how's traveling in first class?
"I don't know, I didn't pay much attention on the flight here. I
was worried about someone and wasn't paying attention."
"Yeah Bud filled us in about the situation. Clay's a good man.
We've worked him several times. He's good in a firefight. And boy,
does he have a wicked sense of humor. Ramon and he get along like a
house afire."
I knew about Clay's sense of humor. Yes, I could see those two
getting along. Just then one of the Air Marshals approached.
"M'am, Sirs, we've got to get you and your equipment on board.
We'll need to accompany you onto the plane. I'll carry your
firearms and hand them over to the on board Marshal. They will be
returned to you when you reach your final destination. I'd like to
say whatever you are going to be doing, Good Luck."
I smiled with gratitude, "Thank you for your assistance. We'll take
whatever luck you can give us."
We gathered up the cases that Jim and Ramon had brought with them.
The two Air Marshals picked up two others and proceeded down the
concourse. One Marshal led Jim and I directly onto the plane. He
stored the weapons cases in one of the first class overhead
compartments. The other accompanied Ramon and the rest our gear to
the hold. I don't know what armament they brought with them, but it
seemed substantial. A few minutes later Ramon re-joined us.
I was in a row by myself, with Jim and Ramon directly behind me.
Just before take off, Ramon came and sat beside me and took my
hand.
"Bud told me about your flying habits and gave me `Caring for the
Flying Colonel' instructions." I hat to grin at this.
He proceeded to recite the instructions. "One, if you are going
to hold her hand, you hold her hand. Don't let her grip your hand.
It seems that the Marine Death grip is lethal. Two, Distract the
Marine during take off. Jokes about Navy personnel are often
effective, so are discussions about any book by Tom Clancy, James
Patterson, Clive Cussler or Patricia Cornwell. Hey, Jim, what's
the third one??
Jim piped up with, "The Third one deals with landing. It states,
absolutely do not allow the Marine to hold your hand during
landing. To do so risks the loss of the hand and possible deep un-
removable fingernail marks in the forearm. You must hold her hand
as instructed in number one, and employ instruction number two
again." These remarks were accompanied by gales of laughter from
both guys and me.
By the time we recovered I noticed two things. We were in the air,
and Ramon was holding my hand. He gave me a gentle smile. I now
know why he's been married for more than twenty years.
Ramon released my hand. "Sarah, I know you haven't rested. I've
got some pills that I want you to take after they serve the meal.
They will help you sleep, hopefully through our layover in Hawaii."
I began to protest.
"Now, don't give me any guff. You so are tense that you won't be
able to sleep without them. Please, you need to be rested when we
get there. Clay needs you to have a clear head. One of our guys
managed to talk with Clay before he went into surgery. We've got
information that we downloaded from his laptop to go over. We're
going to begin reviewing it and then get some sleep ourselves.
We'll wake you four hours out from Jakarta. It will give you a
chance to get cleaned up and eat. Then we'll go over the
information from the laptop and begin to plan."
At this point Jim leaned over the seat and added, "Sarah you've
already proved to us how capable you are, so don't push it, OK?
With a sigh, I said, "OK, I'll eat then sleep. Then we'll plan.
Thanks both of you for everything." With this Ramon got up and
returned to his seat.
I sat back and let my thoughts wander. The comment about Clay
going into surgery started my heart pounding again. I began
recalling the relationship Clay and I shared. We had communicated
quite a bit since Afghanistan and the incident with the prisoners at
the Darya Bulkh prison camp. While he was in tropical Suriname we
exchanged e-mails and an occasional phone call. As a joke I sent
him Jimmy Buffet's boxed CD set for Christmas. The next day Fed Ex
delivered a stuffed parrot and gift certificates for cheeseburgers
at Beltway Burgers. The man was a closet Parrot Head. I was
sitting there grinning like a fool when the flight attendant
delivered the excellent in-flight meal. Paraphrasing the Lion King,
`it's good to fly first class.'
When my meal tray was removed, Jim came and sat next to me. He held
out two pills and a bottle of water. "Take these and get some
sleep. We'll wake you when we agreed." He stood and took pillows
and blankets from the overhead compartment.
As I took the pills he gave my arm a squeeze and said, "Sweet
dreams." He then covered me with a blanket. These two
were like having your older brothers along on a trip without the
poking and tattling. They weren't overly protective, just caring
and concerned. Their tag team humor was effective in distracting
me. I closed my eyes and thought about Clay.
The next thing I knew someone was tickling my nose. I opened my eyes
and Ramon had a corner of the blanket in his hand brushing it across
my face. "OK, OK, I'm awake already. Jim, make him stop."
"Sorry, I gave up trying to control him years ago. I leave that to
Marita, who unfortunately for you, is several hours east."
"Do you know that you snuffle when you sleep? It's sort of cute."
"Ramon, that is no way to stay in a woman's good graces!" I couldn't
help but smile at his antics. When are they going to serve?"
Should be in about thirty minutes or so. You've got time to go
freshen up a bit. How do you feel?"
"Other than being rudely awakened, I feel rested. Those were some
significant sleeping pills. I don't think I should take any more
while we're here. I promise I'll sleep when ordered."
As I stood Ramon got up and removed my carry on from the
overhead. "I'm going to change out of this uniform. I'm going to
have to get someone to get me some more clothing, this is the only
change that I have."
"Got it covered. When we spoke to Bud earlier today, he put Harriet
on the phone. She dictated sizes and styles. Jim called Tessa and
gave her the list. She shopped `til she dropped. Your new wardrobe
is packed in one of the equipment cases mademoiselle," Ramon said,
giving me a exaggerated bow.
"Thank you kind sir. I'll be sure to thank Tessa when we get back.
Although I think for her shopping is on par with an Olympic event."
"Sarah, please don't encourage her! That woman spends more money
saving money than anyone I know. `But it was on sale' is her
mantra. I think the only reason she became a lawyer was to support
her shopping addiction!" Jim moaned.
"I'll restrain myself. See you in a few minutes." I went to the
tiny restroom, washed up and changed. We were served another good
meal then got down to business.
First Class was pretty much deserted so we were able to discuss the
information with a bit more freedom. I guess the bombing has had an
affect on travel into Jakarta.
"OK, what did you have?"
Ramon started. "It seems that Clay connected......
TBC
the poor guy is still in the hospital. It's a long flight from DC to
Jakarta.
Somewhere over the US Heartland
I'm a white knuckle flyer. I've always been that way. My past
flying experiences with Harm have only increased my fears. Harm
swears every time we fly together that the next time he is going to
wear boxing gloves. I always have his hand in a strangulating grip
during take off and landing. He manages to pry my hand loose during
the flight, but come landing I'm a basket case again.
This trip was different. I was so worried about Clay that any
thoughts about falling out of the sky didn't have time to form. The
admiral had been vague about his injuries. A concussion and
shrapnel wounds l could clearly understand. But how bad a
concussion, how bad were the wounds, and where were they? I've had
concussions before and was dizzy even weeks later. Lacerations
decrease mobility, but shrapnel wounds could cause so much more
damage.
My continued worry was making me so antsy that I wanted to run. But
that is severely frowned upon, at 35,000 feet, on a jet, with Air
Marshals just looking for an idiot to make trouble. I didn't need
to be that idiot. I had a job to do. But that job was still
unclear. The only thing that I knew is that Clay needed someone to
help him. And I was that person. I managed to keep calm for the
rest of the flight, but barely.
The flight attendant announced that we would be landing in Los
Angeles in twenty minutes. I began to think about the shopping list
of techno goodies that Bud has requisitioned for me. The laptop and
satellite phone I could handle. But the list included a satellite
video uplink system that could take video feed from a digital
video/still camera. This was not your usual point and shoot which
was all I was capable of using on a good day. I had the feeling
that this trip wasn't going to be `good' in any way, shape, or form.
Twenty minutes later there was another announcement by the lead
flight attendant.
"Ladies and Gentlemen please remain seated as we pull into the
gate. And we really mean it this time. Do not leave your seats
until I make the announcement that you may. The Air Marshall on
board will be in the aisle between coach and first class seating to
assure this. I'm sorry for the inconvenience but we have a special
circumstance that must be handled. Thank you for your cooperation."
Well that was quite an announcement. I hadn't ever heard anything
like that before, but in these times it was understandable. As the
wheels touched down and I had pried my hands from the armrest the
flight attendant approached me.
"Colonel McKenzie?" she said with timidity that I wouldn't have
expected from a senior flight attendant.
"Yes, I'm Colonel McKenzie. What can I do for you?" I asked
curiously.
"Once we arrive at gate there will be Air Marshals to accompany
you to your next departure gate. I've been told to tell you that
the equipment is ready and someone from NCIS is waiting to transfer
it to you."
You could tell that she really wanted to know just who I was to
merit such treatment. For that matter I wondered the same thing
myself. "Thank you, I really appreciate the message. I hate to
inconvenience everyone but this is very important." It seems that I
was the special circumstance.
As we were speaking the plane had pulled to the gate and another
flight attendant had opened the hatch. Two armed men entered the
plane and came directly to my seat.
"M'am will you please come with us?"
"Certainly, lead the way." As I got up the rest of the passengers
were looking at me. Some were curious, others scared, and the rest
were hostile. I shrugged my shoulders, grabbed my carry on and
followed the first marshal. The other took up the rear and we left
the plane and entered the terminal.
The marshals knew where they were going and led me directly to one
of the VIP rooms just down the concourse. As we entered there were
two other men there waiting for us. I was glad to see that I knew
them both.
I was smiling when I said, "Hello Jim, Ramon, it's good to see
familiar faces. Is NCIS supplying me with Bud's wish list?"
"Sarah, you're a sight for sore eyes, come give us a hug!" Jim
stated with a huge grin.
It's funny he and Ramon always called me Sarah; they said that Mac
was a truck, and I wasn't built like any truck they knew. Jim
Morrison was 6' 5" and a former surfer dude. At 35 his blonde hair
had turned prematurely gray. But he still had the tan, blue eyes,
charming smile and gregarious personality. Ramon Gutierrez was his
physical antithesis. He was 5' 8" with caramel skin and chocolate
eyes. He had inherited his features and height from his Mayan
ancestors. He was also reserved until you got to know him. They
were both loyal to friends to the end.
I walked over and gave him the requested hug, then turned and gave
the same to Ramon. Harm, Bud and I had worked with both of them on
an arms smuggling ring two years ago. The five of us had gotten
along unusually well. When the investigation was over we had spent
time with them and their wives Tessa and Marita in Baja. It was a
wonderful two days. We still traded calls and e-mails. Ramon
constantly e-mailed some of the craziest cartoons regarding lawyers
and pilots. Bud took great pleasure in giving Harm grief regarding
the ones that showed pilots ejecting. They were good people, but
even better than that they were the two best investigators that I
knew in NCIS
"Hey, do we look like Spy Gear `R Us?" Ramon said with a straight
face.
I began to giggle. I guess the worry was getting to me. I nodded
to the equipment boxes, "No, you look more like a discount Army-Navy
outlet." They both laughed at that.
"Lady, not only do we have the stuff that Bud requested, but you
have the services of two of the most excellent gentleman
investigators to help you with whatever for the duration."
This was a long speech for Ramon. He was generally not the talker
Jim was, but he was the joker. And he was a techno nerd. He and
Bud had bonded over keyboards.
"You're coming with me? I can't be this lucky. Who pulled what
strings?" I said with a bit of excitement.
Jim gave a wry smile, "Well I don't know. Could be Chegwidden, or
any one of the Joint Chiefs. My boss was told, in no uncertain
terms, that you were to get you whatever you needed and to send two
of his best. And here we are. So how's traveling in first class?
"I don't know, I didn't pay much attention on the flight here. I
was worried about someone and wasn't paying attention."
"Yeah Bud filled us in about the situation. Clay's a good man.
We've worked him several times. He's good in a firefight. And boy,
does he have a wicked sense of humor. Ramon and he get along like a
house afire."
I knew about Clay's sense of humor. Yes, I could see those two
getting along. Just then one of the Air Marshals approached.
"M'am, Sirs, we've got to get you and your equipment on board.
We'll need to accompany you onto the plane. I'll carry your
firearms and hand them over to the on board Marshal. They will be
returned to you when you reach your final destination. I'd like to
say whatever you are going to be doing, Good Luck."
I smiled with gratitude, "Thank you for your assistance. We'll take
whatever luck you can give us."
We gathered up the cases that Jim and Ramon had brought with them.
The two Air Marshals picked up two others and proceeded down the
concourse. One Marshal led Jim and I directly onto the plane. He
stored the weapons cases in one of the first class overhead
compartments. The other accompanied Ramon and the rest our gear to
the hold. I don't know what armament they brought with them, but it
seemed substantial. A few minutes later Ramon re-joined us.
I was in a row by myself, with Jim and Ramon directly behind me.
Just before take off, Ramon came and sat beside me and took my
hand.
"Bud told me about your flying habits and gave me `Caring for the
Flying Colonel' instructions." I hat to grin at this.
He proceeded to recite the instructions. "One, if you are going
to hold her hand, you hold her hand. Don't let her grip your hand.
It seems that the Marine Death grip is lethal. Two, Distract the
Marine during take off. Jokes about Navy personnel are often
effective, so are discussions about any book by Tom Clancy, James
Patterson, Clive Cussler or Patricia Cornwell. Hey, Jim, what's
the third one??
Jim piped up with, "The Third one deals with landing. It states,
absolutely do not allow the Marine to hold your hand during
landing. To do so risks the loss of the hand and possible deep un-
removable fingernail marks in the forearm. You must hold her hand
as instructed in number one, and employ instruction number two
again." These remarks were accompanied by gales of laughter from
both guys and me.
By the time we recovered I noticed two things. We were in the air,
and Ramon was holding my hand. He gave me a gentle smile. I now
know why he's been married for more than twenty years.
Ramon released my hand. "Sarah, I know you haven't rested. I've
got some pills that I want you to take after they serve the meal.
They will help you sleep, hopefully through our layover in Hawaii."
I began to protest.
"Now, don't give me any guff. You so are tense that you won't be
able to sleep without them. Please, you need to be rested when we
get there. Clay needs you to have a clear head. One of our guys
managed to talk with Clay before he went into surgery. We've got
information that we downloaded from his laptop to go over. We're
going to begin reviewing it and then get some sleep ourselves.
We'll wake you four hours out from Jakarta. It will give you a
chance to get cleaned up and eat. Then we'll go over the
information from the laptop and begin to plan."
At this point Jim leaned over the seat and added, "Sarah you've
already proved to us how capable you are, so don't push it, OK?
With a sigh, I said, "OK, I'll eat then sleep. Then we'll plan.
Thanks both of you for everything." With this Ramon got up and
returned to his seat.
I sat back and let my thoughts wander. The comment about Clay
going into surgery started my heart pounding again. I began
recalling the relationship Clay and I shared. We had communicated
quite a bit since Afghanistan and the incident with the prisoners at
the Darya Bulkh prison camp. While he was in tropical Suriname we
exchanged e-mails and an occasional phone call. As a joke I sent
him Jimmy Buffet's boxed CD set for Christmas. The next day Fed Ex
delivered a stuffed parrot and gift certificates for cheeseburgers
at Beltway Burgers. The man was a closet Parrot Head. I was
sitting there grinning like a fool when the flight attendant
delivered the excellent in-flight meal. Paraphrasing the Lion King,
`it's good to fly first class.'
When my meal tray was removed, Jim came and sat next to me. He held
out two pills and a bottle of water. "Take these and get some
sleep. We'll wake you when we agreed." He stood and took pillows
and blankets from the overhead compartment.
As I took the pills he gave my arm a squeeze and said, "Sweet
dreams." He then covered me with a blanket. These two
were like having your older brothers along on a trip without the
poking and tattling. They weren't overly protective, just caring
and concerned. Their tag team humor was effective in distracting
me. I closed my eyes and thought about Clay.
The next thing I knew someone was tickling my nose. I opened my eyes
and Ramon had a corner of the blanket in his hand brushing it across
my face. "OK, OK, I'm awake already. Jim, make him stop."
"Sorry, I gave up trying to control him years ago. I leave that to
Marita, who unfortunately for you, is several hours east."
"Do you know that you snuffle when you sleep? It's sort of cute."
"Ramon, that is no way to stay in a woman's good graces!" I couldn't
help but smile at his antics. When are they going to serve?"
Should be in about thirty minutes or so. You've got time to go
freshen up a bit. How do you feel?"
"Other than being rudely awakened, I feel rested. Those were some
significant sleeping pills. I don't think I should take any more
while we're here. I promise I'll sleep when ordered."
As I stood Ramon got up and removed my carry on from the
overhead. "I'm going to change out of this uniform. I'm going to
have to get someone to get me some more clothing, this is the only
change that I have."
"Got it covered. When we spoke to Bud earlier today, he put Harriet
on the phone. She dictated sizes and styles. Jim called Tessa and
gave her the list. She shopped `til she dropped. Your new wardrobe
is packed in one of the equipment cases mademoiselle," Ramon said,
giving me a exaggerated bow.
"Thank you kind sir. I'll be sure to thank Tessa when we get back.
Although I think for her shopping is on par with an Olympic event."
"Sarah, please don't encourage her! That woman spends more money
saving money than anyone I know. `But it was on sale' is her
mantra. I think the only reason she became a lawyer was to support
her shopping addiction!" Jim moaned.
"I'll restrain myself. See you in a few minutes." I went to the
tiny restroom, washed up and changed. We were served another good
meal then got down to business.
First Class was pretty much deserted so we were able to discuss the
information with a bit more freedom. I guess the bombing has had an
affect on travel into Jakarta.
"OK, what did you have?"
Ramon started. "It seems that Clay connected......
TBC