I bolt back to the office where Tony is speaking to Palisades. Tim takes what appears to be notes on his damp notepad, his pen scritch scratching against the paper. His face is covered in a sheen of perspiration, his skin tinged green. I peer over his shoulders to find him doodling lines. I wonder if it's to keep himself from vomiting all over the grungy carpet.

I desperately try to get his attention. I need to tell him about the men just down the hall planning to do…well, whatever they're about to do. I flick at the pen, but my hand passes through it. I manage to flutter the pages of his notepad, but he is too sick to notice. I touch the back of his neck, feeling that rush of heat from him. His heartbeat is quick, a steady and rhythmic thud beneath my fingers. His seasickness fills my stomach, making me swallow hard. He closes his eyes and shudders, step away from my hand. Pushes out an unsteady breath. He goes back to scribbling lines on his notepad.

I bite my lip to stop the scream. Though it doesn't matter because no one will hear me.

"…inconsistent with suicide," Tony is saying.

Palisades' face hardens. "Are you suggesting Johannsen was murdered by someone on this ship?"

"It would appear that way," Tony replies. "Did he have issues with anyone in particular?"

"There were some personality conflicts. But other than that, no."

"Was he up to anything illegal?"

"Not to my knowledge."

With a clipped nod, Tony lets the silence stretch. Palisades stands at attention, his back ramrod straight and his eyes fixed on Tony. I approach to study him closer. The only tell I notice is a small artery pulsing at his left temple. Even though I stand right in front of him, he can't see me.

"He's lying," I announce to no one.

Tim speaks up first. "Aren't you supposed to know what goes on between sailors?"

Palisades chuckles humorlessly. "Of course, Agent McGee. But this is a big ship with a lot of sailors. I know about the important things. Theft, rape, assault, alcohol smuggled on board. You get the idea. But I can't know everything. Sailors have their own tiffs here and there. Personality conflicts. Maybe someone didn't want to take another's overnight shift or they got the last piece of cake in the mess. Silly things like that. Or they might just be very different people stuck in a very small space."

Unable to help myself, I let my eyes slide between Tim and Tony. I never met two people so different who were able to work together so well. They're so different that their personalities ended up complimenting each other in the end. They must realize it too because they share a quick glance.

The boat suddenly pitches. Tim closes his eyes against whatever his stomach is doing.

"What about drugs?" he weakly asks.

Palisades sighs. "That would be under my jurisdiction."

Tim opens his mouth to follow-up, but the boat rocks dangerously again. He braces himself against the wall with one hand, dry-heaving into the other. Swear pours down his face. The derision on Palisades' face is shocking. Tony narrows his eyes at Palisades as he takes over Tim's line of questioning.

"What about drug smuggling?" Tony asks.

Palisades scratches at his jaw. "I would know about it. And if I didn't, I sure as hell would find out. The ships' walls have ears and they all lead back to this office."

Tilting his head, Tony pivots to keep Palisades' off-guard. "During the course of our investigation, we discovered deposits into your bank account. Small enough to go unnoticed, but big enough for us to find interesting. Very interesting."

Palisades gives nothing away. He remains statue-still, but that artery at his temple pulses even quicker. I wish I could point out that he's lying.

Tim shoots a raised eyebrow look at Tony.

"Right," Tony says. "We'll get back to that later."

Palisades shakes his head. "We won't. That doesn't concern you."

"Now, that's what I find interesting." Tony smiles like a shark. "We found traces of cocaine in Johansson's luggage. Our lab says it was fresh enough to have been picked up during this ship's last time in port." Tony lets the thought hang while Palisades remains impassive. "And right after you left port, another deposit was sent to your bank account. Strange, don't you think?"

That artery on Palisades' temple kicks up even more. He crosses his arms, sets his jaw.

"Not really," Palisades says, simply.

"Where'd the money come from?" Tony asks.

Palisades smirks. "That's something I don't have to tell you."

Tony's brow furrows as though he didn't expect that answer. Even Tim's face folds into a question. I press my hands against my face, wishing I could tell them about the lying and the Navymen up the hall. I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. I'm being forced to watch this happen in real time and not able to do a thing about it. How am I supposed to help my friends?

"We came here as an olive branch to let you explain it before we take it to Director Vance." Tony pivots again, playing the good cop. I always admired how quickly Tony was able to be bad cop in one breath before morphing into good cop in the next and back again.

"The extra money – " hunched over, Tim is gagging the back of his hand " – was someone paying you – " another heavy gag " – to look the other way."

I gasp at how quickly Tim escalated things. Usually, his method is patient and sensible while Tony is rash and impulsive. I would never expect him to cut to the quick so fast. He probably wants to get the heck off this ship as fast as he can. I don't blame him.

Both men look at Tim with surprise wrought on their faces. Palisades must've forgotten he was here and Tony probably though Tim too sick to form any coherent thought.

Suddenly, Palisades gives a slow clap. "Nice work, boys. You figured it out. Johansson worked for me. Drug smuggling is a little easier when the Agent Afloat is part of it. He got greedy and wanted a bigger cut. So – " a feral grin slowly spreads across his face " – we took care of him."

Tony's voice is thick. "Who's we?"

"The guys in the hallway," I offer. "The ones with Latimer."

Though no one can hear me, it feels good to say it out loud. I understand it now. Those guys hiding with Latimer. They are setting up an ambush for Palisades if things don't go the way he expects.

Even if I shout or scream or stomp my feet, Tim and Tony are unable to hear anything I say. I am helpless to watch what I know will unfold before me. I know they aren't leaving the ship. They must realize it too because the share a grim look.

Tony's hand covertly reaches for his weapon. Tim is frozen because Palisades watches him like a shark.

When I peer into the hallway, I'm not surprised to find the group of Navymen there. I desperately try to alter Tim and Tony. I yell. I stamp my feet. I try to throw the files off Palisades' desk. Nothing works.

I knew it wouldn't, but I had to try something. I reach for the light switch because maybe…maybe, I can turn off the lights. My hand disappears into the wall. Electricity crackles through my fingertips—it feels oddly like the blood pumping through my friends. The lights flicker like a strobe light.

Tim finally notices the shadows in the hallway. He pokes his head out. At the sight of the Navymen, his face pales even further. They rush forward and he quickly retreats.

He lets out a strangled, "Tony!"

Before they even have their weapons out, the Navymen storm the room. Two of them quickly grab Tim and wrestle his arms behind his back. Tony fairs better. He lands a solid punch to one before the other punches him in the gut. It doesn't take long for the two Navymen to immobilize Tony too.

I try to stop them, but the Navymen pass right through me. Latimer goes about relieving Tim and Tony of their weapons, phones, creds and wallets. He pockets their cash—five new, crisp 20's from Tim and four heavily folded dollars bills from Tony. That earns him a death glare from Tony. I weave my way through them, trying to do something. It doesn't make any difference.

Latimer frisks Tony for back-up weapons.

Tony gives him that shit-eating grin. "What? No dinner, first?" He winks at Latimer. "Lobster usually gets me in the mood."

Latimer dramatically rolls his eyes before subjecting Tim to the same treatment. Whatever fight Tim may have possessed is gone because he sags between the men holding him. His complexion turns ashen.

Tony rambles, "Let me guess, Palisades. This must be the we you mentioned earlier. I know they say 'good help is hard to find,' but – " he gives Latimer a derisive once over " – damn. Where did you dig up these flunkies?"

I wish Tony would stop trying to get himself killed. He has this bad habit of drawing the dirtbag'' attention to himself to protect his partners. Oh yeah, partner. Singular. He only has Tim now.

Latimer shoots Tony a murderous look.

Tony raises his eyebrows. "What? You know it's true."

When Latimer balls his hand into a fist, Palisades clears his throat. Latimer moves away to stand by the door. He crosses his arms to his chest, but I can tell he wants to pummel Tony. Most dirtbags want to pummel Tony. Heck, there were a lot of times when I wanted to pummel Tony.

"Should we get rid of them?" Latimer gestures toward the top deck.

That must be what these dirtbags did to Johansson. Threw him off the top deck into the Atlantic to make it looks like a suicide. It makes sense now. My stomach sinks at the thought of them doing the same thing to Tim and Tony. Even if I wanted to, there's not a G-damned thing I can do about it. I start trying to pry the men off Tony, but my hands just pass straight through them.

Palisades shakes his head. "It'll be too suspicious if they turn up in port. You need to dump them in the open ocean."

That makes Tony fights with everything he has. One of the men holding him twists his head at an awkward angle. Hissing, Tony stills in the hold. With his eyes closed, Tim sighs resignedly as though this day can't get any worse.

Latimer's face pinches at the suggestion. "In case you haven't notice, there's a hurricane out there."

"Noted," Palisades says flatly. "Then, do it after the storm."

A sly, sick grin glides along Latimer's face. He gives a little salute. "Aye, aye Captain."

Palisades rolls his eyes. "Get them out of here."

Suddenly, the boat pitches dangerously. Tim turns his head to the side and vomits all over Palisades' shoes. Glancing up, he has the grace to look embarrassed. He opens his mouth, likely with an apology on his lips. Palisades punches him right in the face. There's a loud thwack and it's lights out for Tim McGee. His body sags, unconscious, between the two men holding him.

Tony stares, stock-still and slack-jawed, at Palisades for a long beat before he renews his fight. He bucks against the hold, but the men holding him are unmoved.

"You bastard!" Tony yells.

"What was that for?" I shriek.

Rage bubbles up within me as I move toward Palisades. I wish I still had a gun because I would shoot him. I wish I could beat him to a pulp or kick his balls into the stratosphere. I can't do anything here except watch my friends get hurt. Maybe even watch them die.

I try not to let the anger take over, but it slowly spreads through me.

Suddenly, Palisades' face goes as pale as death. He stares right at me. He can see me. I grab at his shirt, surprised at the starch of the fabric and the warmth of his skin. I want blood for what he did to Tim, but the best I can do is paw at his shirt. Palisades backpedals until he slams into his desk.

"There's a g-g-ghost," Palisades' whisper is shaky. "There's a ghost."

He nearly climbs over it to get away from me. The room is hushed, and it takes a moment to realize everyone is staring at me. I forgot what it felt like to be stared at. I glance at Tony, who watches with his mouth gaping.

"Kate?" His voice is a whisper.

At the sound of my name, the anger evaporates. Confusion quickly replaces it, crashing over me like a wave. I glance at my hand, which is light blue and solid. It begins to shimmer as it slowly fades away. My eyes lock with Tony's and his face pulls into an expression of sadness.

"I'm trying to help." My voice is unrecognizable, my words unintelligible.

Recognition slips across Palisades' face. "It's the Woman in Blue!"

That spurs the men holding Tim and Tony out of the room. Palisades has taken cover under his desk. I kick at him, but my foot doesn't go through the desk. Instead, there are loud thuds with each strike. The noises grow progressively weaker as I start to fade out.

Somewhere far away, Tony yells my name. I abandon Palisades to rush after him, after him and Tim, hands outstretched.

Reaching.

Reaching.

I am running down a hallway. The group of men are up ahead. Tony is pulling at them, fighting to try to turn back. I catch the look on his face. Confusion. Dread. Fear. Everything I'm not used to seeing and no emotion I knew Tony could express. If he notices me, he doesn't give anything away.

The men are actively discussing a ghost on their ship and what it could be for their operation. A curse, they say. I am the albatross, a promise of retribution and reckoning. And yet, they still hustle my friends away from safety.

The world greys at the edges. I'm slipping away again. I desperately try to hold onto the world around me, but there isn't anything to grab.

I need to –