A/N: Hope you all liked the last chapter. Beginning to wonder about Webb now? Ha! Read on . . . read on. And we'll get to the bottom of this. And, as always, R&R. Expecting reviews if you want me to continue . . .

He walks Among Us

"The Phantom killed Webb's father?!" he exclaims. Honestly, I'm too shocked to even speak. Why hadn't Webb said anything before? I mean, I dated him. You can't get much closer than that.

Riley nodded. "Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't found out sooner. It's really a wonder why Webb's in charge of this whole operation. When the CIA found out about Webb's connections with the Phantom, they weren't at all pleased. I didn't think he would even be in the loop not to mention running it."

"And Webb's running this op?" I ask. Now things are making sense. Who retrieved us from JAG? Webb. Who wouldn't tell us anything about the case until we got to NCIS? Webb. And who's always mixed up in the cases that endanger Harm and I? Webb. So, seriously, why am I surprised at all? It's Webb.

Riley just stared at us for countless minutes. He must think we're real idiots. We came to Washington with practically zero on the information scale. But, I must say, we've learned a whole lot more in the last five minutes than we have these past days.

"Look, Mr. Riley," Harm said, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room. "We must be going. We'll keep in touch."

"Yes, Commander, that we will," Riley said, shaking hands with Harm. They're a lot friendlier towards each other.

Harm and I walk out of Riley's office, eying each other the entire time. We're sharing brainwaves again. What the hell is up with Webb? He's a spook, of course. So that in and of itself is a reasonable answer. But honestly . . .

"So what do you think?" Harm whispers to me as we're out in the bullpen once again.

"I think Webb has a lot of explaining to do," I said firmly, turning towards us. "And the sooner he spills his guts, the better."

"I just don't get why he didn't tell us sooner," Harm said flatly. "I mean, if he wasn't going to tell us, fine. But sending us here was just begging for it. I mean, Riley knew, so it has to be common knowledge—"

I stare at him. Harm will never change.

"I'm just saying," Harm continued, deflecting my stare. "That Webb knew we were going to find out . . . so why didn't he just tell us and save himself the trouble of us questioning him later?"

"Commander, Colonel!" calls Ms Lindsey, one of the various NCIS secretaries. "I've called you a cab. It'll be here in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you," I replied quickly and Ms. Lindsey went back to her work. "But I get your point, Harm. Why didn't he just tell us?"

We both stare at each other for a moment, not quite sure what to say . . . or to think, for that matter. Webb just boggles the mind.

He didn't tell us . . . but he knew we'd find out. If he didn't tell us, then he probably didn't want us to find out . . . but then why send us to some place where he knew we would find out . . . Unless he wanted us to find out about his father . . . but that wouldn't make sense because then he could have just told us . . . but what if he couldn't?

"Harm," I whisper. I think I've just got something. "What if Webb couldn't tell us?"

"What do you mean?" he says, his eyes focusing on me. Clearly he was thinking too.

"I mean, what if Webb was told not to tell us. Or was supposed to not tell us, but he wanted us to know. So instead of telling us, he just let us figure it out for ourselves," I excitedly conclude. "He wants us to know . . . so we can do something. For him. So we can do something for him without anyone knowing because as far as everyone's concerned, we don't know."

Harm stares at me for a moment. It's hard to tell what he's thinking. "That would make sense, except for a few minor details."

"What?" I asked. I think I've got it all figured out.

"Well, if he wanted us to do something for him, why doesn't he just ask? I mean, we're already on the case. So it's not as if we're not already working for him," he responds. "He could just come out and ask."

"A," I replied briskly. "Webb never asks. He bargains, blackmails, etc. And second, what if he couldn't ask?"

"What do you mean 'he couldn't ask'? He's the head of this op. He can ask anything he damn well pleases."

"No, I don't mean as in authority speaking, he couldn't ask," I fill him in quickly. We're whispering now. We don't need anyone overhearing us. "What if he couldn't ask because he did want someone to know?"

"Who?"

And then it dawns on him.

"The Phantom?"

I nod. "What if he thought the Phantom could know?"

Harm stares at me and we instantly connect. "The Phantom's an inside job. And Webb can't trust anyone so he—"

"Has to pull someone from the outside—"

"And that person—"

"Is us," I finish. We stare at each other for a long time. We understand. We finally understand.

"So, how do we know what we have to do?" Harm asks quietly. That's another thing, what do we have to do? Knowing Webb, it'll involve danger. Lots of it.

"He'll send us a message," I responded, equally quiet. "He'll make sure we know."

Harm pauses for a minute. "So that's how the Phantom knew which room we were staying in. Everyone inside the loop would know that we were staying in the same room and hotel as Victor Kyle when he was murdered. And the exact hotel and room wouldn't have been released but that wouldn't be a problem for the Phantom . . . he would already know."

"Right," I replied. And then my eyes scan the bullpen. "These people know virtually nothing. But maybe—" I start.

"It's intentional," he finishes. "Webb already knows more than them, but if he thought this was the office where the Phantom was . . . then he would personally shorten their knowledge of the case. And if he sent us here . . . then he wants us—"

"To find the Phantom," I whisper. Suddenly our mission was very clear.

"Commander, Colonel, I hate to interrupt," said Ms. Lindsey quickly, breaking Harm and my eye contact. "But your cab is here."

"Thank you," Harm nods and watches as Ms. Lindsey returns to her work. We stand there for a minute, just looking out into the bullpen. To think, in this very room, the Phantom could be sitting here. Reviewing papers . . . trying to catch himself. Or rather, preventing the catching of himself. He walks among us.

"Harm, the cab," I say, breaking his thought.

"Right," he responds and we both shuffle out of the NCIS building, eying everyone that passes us by. Could they be the Phatom?

"When do you think Webb will get in touch?" Harm asks, as soon as we're out in open air.

"I don't know," I shrug. "Knowing Webb, as soon as possible."

"Probably before," Harm grins. God, I enjoy doing this with him. Catching the bad guys, ensuring justice . . . being with him . . .

"Well, he's going to have to really plead if he wants me to come on another mission with him," I say, my tone ensuring the finality in my voice. "I mean, down on his knees with a puppy dog pout."

"And that'll work?" Harm said, raising an eyebrow. "That's what wins you over?"

I smile that devilish smile that I know I possess. "Only one way to find out, Flyboy."

I push past him and open the cab door. And suddenly, I wish to God I hadn't. Because I'm confronted face to face with the shiny black end of what I only know from experience to be a revolver.

"Get in the cab," says the gruff voice. And instantly, Harm and I obey.

A/N: Yes, it is getting good. So kindly review . . . that is, if you want me to go on . . .