Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: Have you ever seen one of those pictures you look at and see something and then you change your position a bit or just think of anything else and suddenly you see something completely different? So this is my very own homage to the "late" Lieutenant Loren Singer - and a look at the sometimes strange occurrences at JAG from an outsider's point of view.
Warning: I will not change what has actually been in the show; I'm just playing with the interpretation. It's still a character death and I won't fix any H/M or W/M pairings here.
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1999
- CIA Headquarters, Langley, an interrogation room
Loren once more flipped through her files and glanced at her watch. She had been early, he was late. Well, the privilege of a superior. She felt nervous. Brand new Deputy Director Webb had a certain ... reputation. Although the gossip about him was even more vague as gossip used to be per definition. For example word had been over the last four to five months that he was on the brink of getting fired because of some insubordination in Italy. Instead he had been promoted five weeks ago. But still - she had heard that working with him could be ... difficult.
The door flew open and Loren jumped on her chair. A man in a dark suit walked briskly into the room, shut the door and then proceeded to the other side of the table where he stood and considered her closely. Loren's gaze searched the name tag on his chest. She was surprised. She had never pictured Webb to be so young, probably around forty. Webb continued to stare and Loren felt more and more uncomfortable. What was he waiting for? Had he expected her to get up?
"Your hair is too long," stated Webb suddenly and dumped his file with a thud on the tabletop. "Have your hair cut, at least six inches."
Loren's mouth fell open.
Webb sat down. "And pull it back. Not a ponytail. I think most female officers with longer hair wear it in a bun or something like that."
Loren wasn't able to respond at first. Then she felt anger bubble up in her. She loved her hair and she loved it like it was. Besides, she knew that she looked ... harder when it was out of her face. She already disliked this man.
"Well, Loren," Webb opened his folder and didn't bother to look at her, "I've been informed that you were already briefed during my absence last week. Code name, connecting procedure etc. I hope you've done your homework. By the way, I'll call you just by your first name because I sometimes have to be at JAG and don't want to get used to your real surname. And calling you Firefighter all the time would be annoying. So..." He quickly turned some pages and frowned. "So let's just have the ground rules repeated."
Instead of going on he sat back on his chair and pressed his fingertips together. Once more he considered her closely with narrowed eyes. Loren swallowed her anger and forced herself to sit motionless. She stared back. The seconds ticked by. Suddenly Webb nodded as if she had passed a secret test and started talking again.
"Rodriguez Senvealda. A drug lord first of all and a very successful one, but to a minor rate he is dealing with everything promising high profit. Weapons, technology, information. And now, just a few weeks ago, Naval Intelligence has found evidence for the possibility that Senvealda's organization has managed to established connections into the Judge Advocate General of the Navy. The evidence is weak, to say the least, but still, it's there and it can't be ignored."
At this point Webb bent forward and rested his elbows on the table.
"JAG and especially the higher ranks have access to sensitive matters within the Navy, the government and even covert operations of different intelligence services including the CIA. A leak could be highly dangerous for this country. It seems fairly sure that the connection is at a low level and that it hasn't existed for long so far but it's bad enough. Naval Intelligence is checking the staff but there are a lot of people and they have also other things to do - what ever that may be."
Loren started to grin but quickly grew serious again under Webb's cold stare.
"So we're going to offer Senvealda a bait he hopefully can't resist: An aggressively ambitious attorney who's getting nowhere with his - or better her - effort. Your rank is Lieutenant that's high enough to be interesting for Senvealda and low enough to be no threat, to contact a Commander or even higher rank would be much more dangerous for his organization. We don't think that Senvealda has important contacts in government or society, but maybe enough to offer Lieutenant Singer what she wants most: promotion. And that's a great opportunity for us to find out about his other contacts."
Webb tapped his fingertips together.
"Well, you've studied the profile of your role and the records of the other officers you'll have to deal with at JAG. The first time, let's say about two to three months after your transfer to JAG, you have to establish your character and show the assumed leak how perfect you are as a source of information - with the appropriate payment. If there is a contact, we'll see how to react. Anyway this shouldn't take too long. Half a year up to ten months then we'll pull you out. I suppose you're appreciating the timetable considering you're current ... family status."
"It would be helpful," commented Loren. Webb ignored her.
"I had to work with JAG in the past and because of that I'll supervise this operation myself. You're reporting to me and only to me - or to a person I've explicitly told you to report to. And to put this clear: I'm not interested in gossip. What we need is proof or denial of this leak and nothing else."
He paused again for a second and seemed to sort out what else to tell her before he continued.
"As I've said, it's not unlikely that I'll show up there every now and then - although JAG is off limits for covert operations as long as the possibility of a leak exists. I hope I don't have to tell you that we don't know each other, have never known each other and will never know each other concerning the people at JAG. Any questions so far?"
Startled by his brusque attitude Loren needed a moment to gather her thoughts. Then she crossed her arms on the table and glanced quickly at the papers in front of her.
"Well, considering the time I'll need to establish my - Lieutenant Singer's - reputation ... wouldn't it have been more efficient to use one of the current staff members?"
"I thought you've read the files."
"I did."
"Then you should know that there is no person with the profile we need - and can trust. Besides that, there are two more reasons why it's impossible to use any current staff members for this investigation. Firstly it would be highly suspicious if someone suddenly started to act like it is necessary to catch Senvealda's attention ... not considering the fact that no one there is even able to act this way. And secondly - and more important: it would mean to inform the JAG about this investigation."
Loren's eyebrows shot upwards. "You're keeping the JAG in the dark about an investigation within his chain of command? Is he a suspect in any way?"
"No, he definitely isn't. But Admiral Chegwidden is known to take matters in his own hands and to have a ... rather explosive temper. So it was decided that the investigation would be more effective this way."
"If he really has such an explosive temper it'll be no fun to be around when he'll find out," Loren commented dryly. "Whose decision was that?"
"Not. Mine." Something in Webb's voice warned her that she had just overstepped a line. She bit her tongue. 'Really great, Loren, you and your big mouth.' Quickly she changed the subject.
"Then... Still: Why is a CIA attorney playing the bait? It's within the borders of the United States. The CIA is not allowed to operate under these circumstances."
"Naval Intelligence has asked the CIA to help out. So they are theoretically responsible for this operation and that makes it legal, Miss Lawyer."
"They asked for our help?" Loren repeated incredulously. "Excuse me, but that sounds very unusual to me. I've just started working for the CIA but even I know that the competition between the different intelligence services is ... quite hard to say the least."
Webb's face showed no expression. "They couldn't come up with an appropriate attorney. Not immediately."
Loren snorted. "They couldn't come up with one or they didn't want to because they wanted to keep their hands clean? Or are they afraid of Admiral Chegwidden's temper?"
"You can think on your feet, Loren, I appreciate that," Webb tilted his head a little bit. "But keep focused on the really important things. Any further questions?"
Loren groaned inwardly. All right, probably she deserved this dressing down. She cleared her throat.
"Well, one last point... Concerning the marked files..."
"Ah, yes." Webb clasped his hands tightly. His expression darkened. He gazed at his papers and frowned. Then he suddenly looked up again.
"The characterization of Lieutenant Singer has been carefully worked out to reach our goal. And so are the details how you are supposed to interact with the officers with marked files. I want to make this very clear: I don't want you to have personal connections with these people. Of any kind! No come and have dinner with me. No let's have a drink together after work; if you can help it. And especially: NO I'll do you a favor! I can't stress this point enough. Don't be nice, be overambitious. Put your career above anything. Is that understood?"
'Translation: You know these people well, maybe consider them friends and hate betraying them like this. And you're trying to protect them from being hurt by a false friendship.' Loren couldn't help feeling sympathy for Webb.
"Yes. You can count on me."
Webb narrowed his eyes. "We'll see if that's true."
Loren's sympathy faded quickly.
"Anything else?"
'Besides that I don't deserve to be at the receiving end of your bad mood?' Loren kept her gaze at her files until she had her anger under control again. Then she looked up, opened her mouth ... and froze because of the sarcastic look he was giving her. Oh, God ... she had spoken aloud. Her cheeks started to burn. But it was unfair to treat her this way.
"I - I'm sorry," she murmured not completely honest.
"I doubt that," Webb stated dryly.
Loren gulped. It looked like she had real problems now.
Webb snorted. "But don't worry. A lot of people who are telling me to be sorry don't mean it. So consider yourself in good company."
Loren just stared with big eyes. Humor? Was this ... humor?! She really didn't know if she should like or dislike this man.
"All right." Webb placed both hands on the table and got up. He gathered his files. "We'll have one more briefing tomorrow. Do something about your hair and get used to the uniform. Thursday you'll go in as a visitor, making yourself known a bit. In three weeks will follow your permanent transfer with the help of the SecNav. So we have time to finish building up your background and you have time to dig deeper into the abyss of military law. Then you're on your own."
"Ah, Mister Webb!" Loren quickly jumped to her feet. Webb stopped, his hand already on the door handle, and raised his brows. "I've got one last question: What if my - Lieutenant Singer's - efforts lead to a promotion? I mean if I try so aggressively..."
She was caught by surprise when Webb laughed shortly.
"Loren, believe me: Stick to the behavior created for Singer and you'll get nowhere at JAG. Not under the command of Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden."