Yay, Mike returns! And sticks around for the rest of this story. It's safe to say that this becomes very MK from here on. Although, I'm not sure I like this chapter very much. It's got a lot of info and the introduction of an important guest character, but still. Too much... Blah!

Anyway, since I've taken on the role of Casting Director... and writer and all that... Ethan Saunders will be played by the one and only Christopher Gabardi (I loved him on All Saints all those many years ago). Although, a pre-warning, you may not like his character much in chapters to come.

Enjoy and please review.

Chapter Nine

The Hammersley was on schedule to arrive in Denpasar at 1530h. As they approached and relayed contact with the Indonesian authorities, allowing the tug in front to guide them in, Kate sent a text to Mike, who was waiting on shore. Once they were set and secure alongside, she left the bridge, handing over the watch to Charge, and changed into her whites.

Dutchy and Raffy accompanied her off the boat and met with Mike, similarly dressed, and another man whom Kate did not know or recognize. It wasn't one of the Feds, as she first assumed. Raffy, however, seemed to know the stranger very well.

After greeting him with a shake and a man-hug, her XO pulled him over to the white-clad members of the party and introduced him. It turned out that the tall, intimidating man in desperate need of a haircut, and perhaps a shave, was Ethan Saunders, who worked for the government. What department, seemed to be the question on Kate's mind, and also how he managed to, at the embassy, get away with such standards of dress, hygiene and personal tidiness.

Dutchy was speaking to Mike, talking about something along the lines of his uniform and how good it was to see him again, and so well healed. Kate wasn't exactly listening—she was far more intrigued with the extra ribbon above his left pocket. He hadn't mentioned that to her in the email and he didn't have it two days ago. Then there was the slight bulge in his left pocket that one would only notice when looking very observantly.

"Lieutenant Commander," Ethan said.

Her attention was amplified immediately and all thoughts about Mike's clothing went out the window. Figuratively speaking, at least. There would be time to literally throw his clothes out the window later, she hoped.

"Yes?" she said finally, and still a little distractedly.

"A security team from the Embassy will be monitoring your ship 24/7," he told her in a gruff voice. "I suggest you sort out a schedule with your sailors, but I will need you and Raffy on shore most of the time while we are here."

"I'm not sure I can do that, Mr Saunders," Kate argued. "My crew's safety and my ship's security are paramount."

"It will be perfectly safe in this port, and the security detail is more than capable. You can tell your crew whatever you want, so long as they keep out of our operations here. I'm sure that they're intelligent enough to realise that they shouldn't be walking around this city alone, given what's happened."

"That doesn't explain why you need me or my XO," Kate pushed. This guy was really starting to annoy her. Nobody, least of all a civilian, told her how to run her ship. And nobody, unless that person was a superior officer, told her what to do.

"I'm afraid I'm not the person to ask, ma'am," Ethan continued in the same ambiguous and monotonous tone. "My supervisor has informed me that yours and Commander Flynn's presence is required tomorrow at the Embassy. And I need Raffy's help for some…" He looked as though he was struggling for the right word. "Exercises," he put in finally.

Don't ask, Kate, that voice in her head shouted. So she didn't. "Okay. I only have one more question and I want your professional opinion," she told him in her most serious voice. "Should I allow my crew to go ashore? Will they be safe?"

Ethan grinned and left Kate confused as to why.

"Is something about that funny?" She didn't think so.

"No; but that was two questions. You said one. But to answer it," he continued before she came back with an angry rebuttal. "Yes, I do. But security protocols; they travel in teams, and nobody is ever left alone. Usually the navy doesn't have a problem with that."

"We won't," Dutchy promised. He knew his fellow sailors were itching to get off the boat.

"They took a commanding officer. And now we have increased security. It's not in their nature to try again so soon and when the risk is so high and the reward is so much smaller," Ethan explained. "Your sailors will be fine."

"And us?" Raffy was speaking for the first time. "I'm going to presume that Embassy does not want the officers going to and from the boat after classified meetings and intelligence sharing sessions."

"You're right," Ethan said, and then looked at Dutchy. "Thank you, Petty Officer, but we won't be requiring your services any longer."

Dutchy looked positively pissed. He looked at Kate, who nodded serenely for him to leave. He guessed it wasn't exactly his business—it's not like he joined the officers on their trips to NAVCOM briefings—but in a foreign port with some dangerous locals, he wanted nothing more than to watch his superiors' backs. But he wasn't going to argue. He left without a fuss.

Ethan stepped closer, cutting off the small group of four from the outside world, and dropped his voice to a low tone. Kate knew that there were no enemy eavesdroppers—he just didn't want her crew to hear anything. "Your sailors aren't in danger because they don't know anything. You three on the other hand…" The rest of his statement was self-explanatory. "I'm putting you in the same hotel in Bali. You'll need your civilian attire, even at the Embassy. I don't want to risk you being recognized."

Kate glared at him. She didn't like this plan.

And, somehow, Ethan recognized that. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't have a choice."

"Is this port closed off to public and commercial spectators?" Mike asked.

"Yes, and secured by the Indonesian government," Ethan answered. "Like I said, the ship will be safe here."

"How long do I have to brief my crew?" Kate asked.

"An hour. Then we depart."

Kate felt uneasy around him. The cloak and dagger routine wasn't part of her training or her tenure as CO of the Hammersley, and she was starting to feel like her ship was meddling in something it was not supposed to be involved in. But a naval officer was missing. A colleague. A friend. And if there was a chance that she could help, she was taking it.

As she had suspected, the crew were highly skeptical of Kate's explanation of their role requirements while they were in port. Get drunk and take care of the ship? Was she serious? Her senior sailors did not outwardly mention what was going through their minds, for which she was grateful, but behind the scenes as she prepared to leave, she overheard their concerns. Swain was pressing the hard line of doing what they were told. Dutchy was concerned about a number of things, namely hers and Raffy's safety. And the Charge's suspicious theories were not easing her buffer's mind at all.

Kate was geared up to leave within the hour and still apprehensive about the supposed plan. But just as Ethan Saunders had said that he didn't have a choice, neither did she. They were following orders, although somewhat blindly, and Commander White's had been spelled out in not-so plain English.

The unmarked vehicle that drove them from the port to their hotel outside of Kuta did not take the most direct route. Raffy and Ethan seemed unfazed by the longer drive. They spoke animatedly to each other about the Cowboys' chances of making it to the Top 8. Ethan appeared to be an avid supporter. Raffy was assuring him that they had better chances of cracking the entire radical terrorist network in Southeast Asia. Her XO, Kate soon found out, was a Tigers fan, and was happily sitting back admiring their 2010 performance. She wasn't a follower of that code of football, so she couldn't quite figure out why.

Mike was playing the strong and silent role again. And it was getting infuriating again. Even if her XO talked about nothing, at least it was a far cry more than what she was getting from her lover.

When they finally arrived at the gates of the expensive-looking resort, Kate shot a dark glare at her former CO. He probably could've mentioned that they were staying at the Intercontinental. And on whose budget, she wondered.

Ethan seemed to know that. "We have an agreement with the owners of this hotel," he explained.

Well, that wasn't much of an explanation, Kate concluded. The cloak and dagger thing was really getting old. What kind of agreement included one of the most expensive 5-star resorts in Bali? She didn't ask.

They were settled into three rooms on the same floor. Mike had known this when he checked in the evening before. They weren't the most expensive rooms in the hotel, but they were the most that either of them had stayed in. Ever. Kate probably couldn't say the same for Raffy.

She settled into her traditional Victorian-style room, or it could have been Elizabethan—Kate didn't know—and collapsed onto the white-sheathed queen bed until there was a knock at the door. She'd been expecting it. She didn't even bother to the lock front door after entering. "Come in."

Mike was a little surprised to find it unlocked, in fact. "That's probably not safe."

"I've heard that word so many times today, it doesn't even sound like a word anymore," Kate complained. Her body was too heavy to lift from the covers, so she stayed there. Mike settled himself in one of the uncomfortable lounge chairs.

"Interesting day," Mike commented over the loud hum of the awkward silence.

"Not exactly what I expected when I woke up this morning," Kate admitted. "What do you think of Ethan Saunders?"

"ASIS," Mike said plainly.

Kate had suspected as much.

"What happened on the Hammersley yesterday to make them think that it's terrorism-related?" Mike continued.

"What do you mean? You don't know?"

He shook his head with a frustrated glare. "Maxine didn't have time to brief me before I left and I've been playing Mary's Little Lamb to Mr Saunders since I arrived."

He sounded annoyed. And maybe a little upset. "The crew that we picked up was somehow involved. The captain said something to Raffy about Marc Watson. Apparently it was already a suspect vessel. There was intelligence on it coming out of Jakarta."

"That's it?"

Kate sat upright. "That's all I know. I feel like we've been shafted into a Tom Clancy or John le Carre novel."

"I have been told that our orders will become clearer tomorrow when we meet with this government official at the Embassy," Mike assured her.

"Told by who? Saunders?"

"No. Commander White."

Kate didn't have a retort. She just nodded. "And what about the Hammersley crew?"

"They do what they've been told and I'm sure they'll be fine. I already asked Saunders about it. He's adamant that the port has adequate protection."

"And when they're not at the port? You know what our crew's like."

Mike registered the use of 'our' but didn't bring it up. It wasn't quite the time. "To be fair, trouble usually finds us. We don't go looking for it."

"Mm, you're not wrong there." She crashed back on to the mattress. "I feel like a puppet."

"Maybe you should wait to make that call," Mike advised. "Patience. I've been here for twenty-four hours and I still don't know anything."

"If that's the case, what makes you so sure that we'll be told anything?"

"Optimism," he replied with a shrug.

Kate rolled on to her stomach and turned around to face him. "Do you think Marc's still alive?"

"I don't know. It doesn't really make sense."

"No, it doesn't. It's been thirty-six hours. Why haven't we heard anything?"

Mike's nonverbal shrug hinted that he didn't know. "If he was taken by terrorists, he would've made the news by now. They'd make demands for days—demands that won't be met by our government—and it'll all end in his very public execution."

Kate tried not to think about it. "Right so why haven't we heard anything? Why did they take him?"

His body language was speaking again. She knew that he couldn't answer her questions. She didn't even know why she was asking them. Maybe it was some form of brainstorming.

"So…" Mike began with a twinkle in his eyes. "Dinner?"