JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
United States Navy Commander Meg Austin looks through some legal documents as she sits inside her private office. It is a small office, but at least it has permanent walls and her own steel filing cabinets. Ten years ago, she was a lieutenant junior grade and she did not even have a cubicle like the junior lawyers today whose desks are in the main office.
She looks at the Silicon Graphics monitor of the personal computer on top of her desk, doing legal research on the Internet, when she hears the door open. She stands up and sees a man with salt-and-pepper hair on his head. He is dressed in an olive-green Marine dress uniform. The two stars on his shoulders indicate that he is a major general in the United States Marine Corps. Immediately, the commander stands at attention.
"Good afternoon, Commander," says Major General Gordon M. Cresswell, the Judge Advocate General for the Department of the Navy. "I need you to look up something for me. An hour ago, I received a request from the dean of admissions at the United States Naval Academy. You see, Austin, NCIS does background checks for candidates for admission to the U.S. Naval Academy. Almost all of the time, the background checks don't reveal anything alarming. But just today, a fingerprint check revealed one of the candidates to be a missing child."
"What happened, sir?" asks Meg. "When was the candidate reported missing?"
"Let me get to that," says the general. "A scanned fingerprint from a candidate believed to be Sasha Lindstrom was matched to that of a missing child named Alexandra Galvin. Alexandra Galvin was reported to have gone missing back in 1992, disappearing from a shopping center in Cedar Rapids in Iowa. The authorities suspect a kidnapping, non child-custody related. When Miss Galvin was reported missing, the police managed to get her fingerprints and the fingerprints are in a database for missing children."
"There must be some kind of mistake," says Meg.
"Perhaps," replies Cresswell. "Which is why you are going to investigate. You can start by speaking with Agents Cassidy and Blackadder over at NCIS Headquarters- they were the ones running the fingerprint check today. Miss Lindstrom lives in Jacksonville in Florida so I'll make travel arrangements. That will be all for now."
"Aye aye, sir," says Meg.
ooooooooooooo
2047 ZULU
NCIS HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON NAVY YARD
WASHINGTON, D.C.
"So you are sure you ran the fingerprint check correctly?" asks Meg, standing inside the headquarters for the Naval Criminal Investigative Sefvice, a federal agency that conducts investigations into criminal matters in which the Department of the Navy might have an interest- including background checks for candidates to the U.S. Naval Academy.
"I ran it three times, Commander," replies Agent Paula Cassidy.
"Maybe there's some clerical error or something."
"We keep our records straight," says this male voice.
The commander turns and sees a man in his late twenties wearing a purple T-shirt and gold chains, almost like someone from a rap video on MTV.
"And how do you do that?" she asks.
"You see," says the gold-chained man, "when we get live-scans, we enter all the info, the number and the name. Then when we run a fingerprint check, we go have our compiuters search all over the Internet, you know, the world wide web and stuff. Whatever it matches in other databases we then make a report and walk over to the filing cabinets and stick the report in there, unless the report screams out like something's wrong, ya know. Like if we ran a fingerprint check, and we get the resiult screaming I'm an axe murderer! Then we takle it up with the bossman."
"Thanks for your explanation," says Meg.
"Don't mind him," says Vivian Blackadder. "He was raised watching MTV."
"I'll need to look up the number of the police agency that reported the girl missing," says Meg.
ooooooooooooo
2104 ZULU
WASHINGTON NAVY YARD
Just outside the NCIS Headquarters building, Meg makes a phone call on her Nokia cellular telephone.
"Cedar Rapids Police Department," says this female voice.
"I wish to speak to whoever's in charge of missing children's cases," says Meg.
"Who is this?"
"Commander Meg Austin from the Navy's Judge Advocate General Corps."
"One moment please."
Meg hears a click and then a monotone voice as she is put on hold.
"Hello there," says a male voice. "This is Detective Bill Hogan."
"Detective, this is Commander Austin from the Navy JAG."
"Let me write this down."
"I'm requesting info on a missing child."
"Let me hook up to the database...There it is. What info do you have?"
"I have a name, Alexandra Galvin. A fingeprint check turned up her name and I want to confirm the information."
"Here it is. Disappeared from a shopping center about fourteen years ago. She's be seventeen now, if she's still alive. Her disappearance was big news back then. America's Most Wanted still features her case sometimes. Have you found her?"
"We might have found her. We're not sure. We'll keep you informed, Detective. Here's my number."
"Thank you," replies Meg.
She hags up the cell phone; she knows where she has to go next.
ooooooooooooo
DAY 2
1948 ZULU
JACKSONVILLE, FLORIDA
"Where is the place?" asks Meg as she drives the Ford Crown Victoria through the streets of Jacksonville, Florida.
JAG Headquarters had arranged a flight for her to the Jacksonville Naval Air Station. The personnel at the air station showed her tyo her guest quarters. Meg had figured the best time to speak with Sasha Lindstrom or whoever she really is would be after she got home from school. The girl was already home by 1530. It was a simple matter of using the MapQuest web site to retrieve the Lindstroms's address.
Of course, actually following the directions was a bit hard.
Meg steps on the brakes, causing the Goodyear tires to screech.
"Here it is," she says. "Beefeaters."
She drives down the street to a single-level house, like the others on this tree-lined street. She makes sure to check the house number, then she steps out of the car.
She feels the air. While it is certainly not bikini weather, neither does she have to wear a heavy overcoat like she did back at Falls Church.
Walking along the concrete walkway between the sidewalk and the wooden front door, she rings the doorbell and waits.
Less than a minute later, a red-haired teenage girl opens the door.
"Ma'am," she says.
"Commander Meg Austin from the Navy JAG," says Meg, introducing herself.
"Sasha Lindstrom," says the girl. "I suppose you're here to discuss my application to the Academy, right?"
"Well, yes I am."
"Have you met my Blue and Gold Officer? I wonder why he didn't come."
"JAG is conducting an independent investigation. I would like to come inside. Will you parents be home?"
"My mom is usually home by this time, and my dad comes around 5:30; I mean, 1730. He's a violinist at the naval station. You can come in, ma'am. I'm studying with a few classmates."
Meg enters the living room. It is a typical living room, with a fireplace, couches, a wooden coffee table, a bookcase, and a Magnavox color television. Two other girls lay down on the carpet of the living room- one a girl with straight brown hair, the other a girl with tightly-curled black hair, both of them reading school textbooks. An open bag of Doritos tortilla chips sits on the coffee table.
"Are you from the Academy, ma'am?" asks the girl with the curly black hair.
"No, I'm from JAG headquarters," replies Meg.
"Why don't we go to my room?" asks Sasha.
"Sure."
Sasha leads the commander through a short hallway into one of the bedrooms. Hanging on the wall is a poster of an F-14 Tomcat, a fighter jet that had been used by the U.S. Navy. A wooden dresser has typical girl stuff and an issue of ym magazine.
"So how did you get interested in the Navy?" asks Meg.
"I moved around a lot before settling here in Jacksonville," replies the girl. "I got interested in planes when I was fifteen."
"And you decided to go to the Academy?"
"Yes, ma'am. I was in the Navy ROTC. My instructor, Commander Shepard, assisted me in the application process. I sent my application to the Academy my junior year, and applied for nomination from my congressman, senators, and the President."
"And what career path are you considering?"
"Flying jets," replies Sasha. "you know, like in Top Gun."
Meg recalls a former partner of hers who used to fly F-14 Tomcats. "You still in contact with your Blue and Gold officer?"
"Yes, ma'am. I have to take these physical tests and a medical exam. I also had a live-scan fingerprint. Did you ever apply to the Academy, ma'am."
"I did. I applied for all slots, including that for children of those killed in action, as my father was. I was not offered an appointment, though. I was later commissioned through the OCS."
"It is hard to get into, ma'am. I guess preparing myself will do me a lot of good even if I never get into Annapolis."
"Definitely. Sasha, how long have you lived with your parents?" asks Meg.
"All my life, as far as I can remember," replies Sasha. "They did their best to raise me even as I moved around."
"And where did you live in the past?"
"San Diego. London. San Francisco. My dad was assigned here to Jacksonville my second half of my freshman year."
Meg looks and sees a picture of a teenage girl with blond hair. "Who is that?" asks the commander.
"My older sister Stephanie," replies the girl. "She died when I was five years old."
"Do you remember her?"
"A little bit. I remember one time being at some mall or something and she bought me an ice cream."
Meg hears a noise, sounding like a motor running.
"That must be my mom," says Sasha.
"I'd like to speak with her," says Meg.
The two of them leave the bedroom and walk to the living room. The two girls are still there.
A woman in her mid-fifties, wearing a long red skirt and a red blouse walks in.
"Hi, Mrs. Lindstrom," says the girl with the blond hair.
"Hello, Denise," replies the woman. She then notices a U.S. Navy commander in dress uniform standing in the living room. "Oh, hello there, Commander. Are you here to see my husband? Or my daughter?"
"Commander Meg Austin from JAG," replies Meg. "I was here to see the girl calling herself Sasha Lindstrom."
"I'm Barbara Lindstrom," says the woman. "Sasha is my daughter. My husband is Master Chief Henry Lindstrom."
"And what does your husband do?"
"He's a violinist at the Jacksonville Naval Station band. You know, he was on board the Abraham Lincolcn when the President visited them."
"Tell me about Sasha," says Meg.
"Okay," says Mrs. Lindstrom. "Sasha, can you get the groceries? They're in the car."
"Okay, Mom," replies Sasha.
"Sasha was with us her whole life," says Mrs, Lindstrom. "We raised her to be a good girl, and she was good for the most part, probnably because Henry and I never let her get away with anything."
"Sounds like my upbringing," says Meg, sitting on the couch. "You must be proud of her, applying to the Academy and all."
"It is exciting. I mean, if Henry's still in the Navy when she graduates, he's have to address her as ma'am. I'd better go get some of the groceries."
Meg follows Mrs. Lindstrom into the dining room. Brown paper bags with the Publix Super Market logo sit on the dining table. Sasha is removing some of the groceries from the bag, including a pack of eggs, a carton of pasteurized whole milk, a box of Kellogg's Frosted Flakes with the famous Tony the Tiger logo, and three cans of Spaghetti-Ohs.
"This is a really nice neighborhood to raise kids, ma'am," says Mrs. Lindstrom as she brings in another bag of groceries from Publix Super Market. "There are a lot of Navy people, active and retired, living around here. Just down the street is a retired master chief and his wife. I heard their son was a submarine officer."
"Here's the last of them, Mom," says Sasha.
"Thank you, dear," replies Mrs. Lindstrom.
"Uh, Sasha," says Meg. "Do you have an old photo album?"
"Sure, Commander," replies Sasha even as she goes to the living room.
"Commander, are you here to interview her to see if she's qualified for the Naval Academy?" asks Mrs. Lindstrom.
"We're simply following up on one of the candidates," says Meg. "We always follow up on those the Academy is considering for an appointment."
"You with the Academy?"
"No, ma'am. I'm from JAG; I never attended Annapolis."
"I guess the Academy is asking for an outside investigation."
"Here's the album, ma'am," says Sasha, holding a dusty book. "Hope you don't mind the dust."
"It's okay," says Meg. She opens it, seeing a photo of a red-haired girl about six or seven years old. "Is that you?"
"Yes, ma'am. Why are you asking about my childhood, ma'am? I know Annapolis has tough standards, but do they really care about what I was doing when I was six?"
"Take a look here," says Meg.
"You mean the milk carton?" asks Sasha.
She looks at the picture of the girl on the milk carton.
And then she looks at the photo album.
Her fair-skinned face turns pale.
"What is it?" asks Mrs. Lindstrom.
"Take a look at the milk carton," says Meg.
Mrs. Lindstrom looks at the picture on the milk carton.
The picture of Alexandra Galvin of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, missing since May 12, 1992.
"What is this?" asks Sasha. "Some kind of joke?"
"This is why I am here," says Meg. "The fingerprint you submitted was matched to this girl. I came here to find out whom you are, and now I know."
"This...this can't be," says Sasha. "That can't be me. Tell me this isn't true, Mom!"
"Mrs. Lindstrom walks over to the two girls. "Tania, Denise," she says. "Sasha and I have something to discuss alone."
"Bye, Mrs. Lindstrom," says Tania, the girl with the curly black hair. She and Denise leave the house.
"Tell me everything," says Meg. "From the beginning."
"Perhaps we should wait until my husband Henry gets home," says Mrs. Lindstrom.