Chapter Eighteen

Naval Station Three Rivers, Oakville, WI 0755 hrs

"Hey, Probie!" Gibbs gestured to one of the probationary agents milling around the crime scene. "You got an evidence bag for that cigarette?" Gibbs irritably grumbled under his breath at the slightly confused expression on the agent's face. "The one that's sitting on the ground beside the body! What the hell did you think I was referring to?" The probie suitably chastised hastened to get an evidence bag as Gibbs threw his last barb at his retreating bag. "We need to get that tested before the ground contaminates the evidence too much so that a chemical analysis can't trace anything critical."

One of the other agents on the team solemnly intoned "So, we have here one deceased, Donovan Bryce, Captain, United States Navy, left a family, sixteen year old son and a wife of twenty seven years."

"What does your gut hunch tell you?" Gibbs prodded the agent gruffly.

"Something smells fishy here." The agent replied.

"No kidding." Gibbs commented sarcastically. "And I think the victim was neck-deep in it. The MO strikes me as familiar and I've seen cases like this around before."

The agent looked curiously at him.

"Yeah, Mike Franks and I had a case similar to that several years before he retired in '96. That's why I told the probie to go get a bag and bag that cigarette. I want a chemical analysis done on it to see if there's the same type of chemicals used as in that case. If we do find it, we got a match."

"What then?" the agent asked.

"Then we know it's a dirty fed."

The shock and silence was palpable.

Office of the Naval Inspector General, Pentagon Detachment, Harm's Office, 1035hrs

Harm was deep into an Inspector General File when a clearing throat attracted his attention. He looked up to see Animal, his stern-faced visage not showing a hint of good humor. The captain looked at his watch, then looked back over at him.

"Grab your gear." Animal informed Harm, "We need to have our asses on a plane by 1300 hrs. Something big has gone down over in Three Rivers and the admiral wants us to investigate the matter. Call Lieutenant Commander Gracen and Lieutenant Commander Austin and you can tell them that you're going to be out of town for a while starting now. I don't know how long it's going to take, but estimate two weeks. Anything other than that is classified."

"Aye-Aye, sir." Harm stood up to the position of attention as Animal turned on his heel and headed back out the door.

About five minutes later, Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. heard a very loud foul-mouthed expletive coming from Captain Nakamura's office. "Commander Hennessey, I really don't give a monkey's shaved ass if you have deliveries. I need a COD into an airport in Wisconsin, Dane County Regional preferably and I needed it yesterday! Either that or call the Air Force and see if they can divert a 17 into Dane! I don't give a damn. Just get it done and get back to me with the times in fifteen minutes!"

Office of the Naval Inspector General, Pentagon Detachment, Animal's Office, 1035hrs

"But sir," the Commander objected, "The runways are too short for a C-17 to land at."

"Jim, First off, I know for a damned fact that the longest runway available at Dane is a 9006 foot runway, Secondly, the runway rollout for a Moose is 5230 feet at 1500 AGL…." Animal growled at the commander. "Any more fallacies you want to inform me of? Are you aware that you are speaking to a naval aviator who flew fast jets and had to know the name of every divert field from Virginia Beach to Whidbey Island?" That silenced any more objections from the commander and Animal followed up with the coup de grace. "So either I get the COD or I call the Air Force and inform the NAVINSGEN of your reluctance to assist with an investigation. Which choice do I make?" Animal didn't like having to exert pressure, but this case was time-sensitive, by the time the yokels at Three Rivers got through, there'd be nothing left to investigate that could result in convictions and Animal was damned sure that he was going to find discrepancies. "Fifteen minutes, Jim! I want some results. I want to be in Wisconsin by 1400 hrs. Call my cell, because I'm on my way to Andrews." Animal's cellular phone was on the Navy DOD Directory.

"Aye-aye, sir."

Animal slammed the phone down irritated as he realized that the man was only complying out of fear of losing his job as a squadron commander. God, he hated this job more than anything else. But he had to lay down the law, as he saw it, the COD was the quickest way from Point A to Point B and if he didn't get out to Three Rivers, NCIS was going to botch things up so much that he wouldn't be able to get it sorted out within his lifetime. Looking up at the clock, he swore a blue streak, grabbed his gear and headed for the office foyer. He looked up at Harm and grunted. "Let's go!"

"Yes, sir!" Harm grinned at him like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Animal shook his head and tossed him the keys to the Navy sedan.

"You drive!"

As they walked through the corridors of the Pentagon, Animal dialed the cell number to Maegyn's cell phone. She was on her way back to Nevada to take over the Black Aces. Two rings and a pickup, Animal sighed in relief.

"Commander O'Bannon!" came the crisp reply.

"Commander, it's Captain Nakamura." Animal grinned officially even though the call was a phone call and she wouldn't be able to see him. "I'm heading out on an investigation to Three Rivers, won't be back for two weeks, I suspect. It's black so I can't talk very much about it, other than where we're going."

"That long?" Maegyn's voice sounded wistful. "Well, anyways, I'll write and let you know how things are going. I'm still going to get you back for swiping Trebalos." She grumbled half-heartedly.

"Promises, promises…" Animal teased Maegyn on the phone as Harm found their vehicle in the Navy Vehicle compound. Harm grinned at him, held up a key as Animal nodded silently in reply.

"So…you let me know when you get back…" Maegyn ordered. Animal grinned as he entered the car as he cradled the phone in the palm of his hand. His phone was one of the latest phones out there, a compact flip, easily concealable in his pocket. Little did he know that compactness would come in extremely handy where he and Harm were going.

Harm noted carefully that Animal's concentration was on his call with his girlfriend. And he figured that he'd better give Lia a call too prior to boarding the plane. As he was the one driving to Andrews, it wouldn't be safe to try and one hand the steering wheel while trying to call his Lia. As Animal finished his call, Harm looked over at Animal and asked, "Have you eaten." Animal shook his head. "We'd better run through a drivethru then, grab a bite and head for the base."

"Sounds good, Harm." Animal replied. "But I ain't eating anything that looks like that poor persecuted lettuce that you insist on absorbing. I'm not a rabbit, y'know."

Harm made a point of looking Animal up and down to make sure and then commented. "Nope, you're a human all right." Animal glowered at him. "So…go through the Drive Thru at Mickey D's?" Harm inquired.

"Yeah…"

"You know that stuff is going to kill you?"

"Yeah…cheaper n' whiskey and tastes better too." Animal retorted.

"Don't know how you can stomach that crap." Harm smirked back.

"I have a cast-iron stomach." Animal replied wondering if he'd have a cast-iron stomach strong enough to deal with the clusterfuck that inevitably happened whenever one of the ABC123 alphagetti soup letter fed agencies got involved with a case.

Naval Station Three Rivers, Oakville, WI 1050 hrs

Gibbs looked over at Orrin Riley, the agent he was talking to. "Let's take photos of the scene and clear it. We're starting to attract attention." And Gibb's Marine sense was screaming at him that attention wasn't good in this case.

Riley nodded, he was relatively new having been with Gibbs' MCRT for the past two years but he had passed his probationary period. He was now considered a full-time Special Agent with the team and he had been with Gibbs long enough to gauge Gibbs' mood; this was sending alarm bells ringing. This murder had been clean with very few clues; most assassinations were. The toxicology test on the body would bring clues to the surface, but it was time for Ducky and his team of forensic pathologists to get to work on it. He looked at the chalk outline where the body was found. Nodding to the newest probie, he grunted. "Hey, probie…go get a camera and take some shots of the crime scene now that the body's been taken away. We need the chalk outline showing where the body fell and the marker where the cigarette was lying." The probie hastened away quickly.

"Doesn't get any easier does it? Riley." Gibbs said sourly as he looked at the scene.

"Nope, boss."

"Well, we'd better head back and find out what Ducky has come up with. We're borrowing Madison WI Medical Examiner's building and I'm sure that they want it back soon." Gibbs commented casually as they turned their back on the MCRT team still gathering evidence and started walking back to their Navy Suburban.

Dane County Regional Airport, Madison, WI, 1400 hrs

The C-2 Greyhound touched down at exactly 1400hrs and Animal breathed a sigh of relief. They were there. One of the reasons why Animal preferred a Navy COD was because of the fact that they would be able to carry weapons and Animal had a NAVINSGEN badge and authorization from DCIS to carry under this circumstance where a Three Rivers captain had died under suspicious circumstances.

"Think we're going to have to drag NCIS into the fraud aspect of this? Sir?" Harm asked Animal as the two of the debarked the C-2, their Berettas in black webbing holsters strapped to their hips. Evidently a NCIS agent was standing by the tarmac waiting for the two men to walk over.

"Hi, I'm Leroy Gibbs." He had steel grey hair interspersed with brown and his calculating eyes ran a cursory , inspection over the two navy officers who stood before him. "Supervisory Special Agent, Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

"Funny seeing you out here, Gibbs." Animal said eyeing him with a look that spoke that they knew each other. "Weren't you with 1/1 Marines in Iraq at Al Burquan?"

"Something like that…" Gibbs responded. "Were you Fast Eagle? How'd you end up in a pencil-pusher department?"

"Yeah, I was…Did something stupid…CNO yanked my ass out of a frontline squadron." Animal said pointing at his rack. "…and now I'm stuck here pushing paper from one side of the desk to the other unless they periodically let me out of the squirrel cage to go chew on people."

"Pulled our fat out of the fire a couple of times." Gibbs nodded to the taller officer, imparting to him his experience of dealing with casually eyeing the ribbon. "We were pinned down on a LRRP in Al Burquan supporting the Mechanized Battalion, he came over and dropped a couple of two-thousand pounders on the Republican Guards and made them run for cover."

"Yeah, first time we ever had to move mud." Animal replied. "So what brings you out to WI?"

"Got a deceased. Captain Bryce, was snuffed with a laced cigarette, Ducky, our ME, is running the toxicology tests." He motioned them to the Suburban, and let them load up their gear. "We don't know who's running around. Could be DSD or one of the other agencies making sure that the lid is tight on their opsec."

"Snuffing out Navy officers employed on important R&D assignments? Sounds a little overkill to me." Harm interjected.

"Well…suffice it to say, Lieutenant Commander… uh…Rabb." Gibbs inspected Harm's nametag. "I've had experience with black ops before. When operational security is that tight, any leak could compromise it so, suffice it to say, we had orders to eliminate any leaks."

Harm was a little shocked at the laissez-faire attitude of Gibbs when he related that bit of information. "Walking a moral tightrope."

"You'll find morality a rather obscure concept when it comes to black projects. Commander, you get to see things in black and white especially when cocooned in a nice little staff position. You don't see the myriad shades of grey." Gibbs started the engine of the Suburban, looked both ways and started pulling out.

Gibbs gunned the engine as both Navy passengers hung on for dear life. Gibbs was normally a sedate, careful driver, but today, he had places to go, people to see; in a hurry and couldn't wait for the now irate driver behind him who blared his horn, telling him in handsigns that he wasn't pleased that Gibbs had narrowly missed sideswiping his car upon his abrupt exit. When the angry fellow pulled up alongside Gibbs' Suburban at the next red light and started to roll down the window, he was met with three glowering faces and three gold badges. Harm swore the guy turned white and promptly figured that discretion was a wise choice in this case and decided to make himself scarce. The lettering was too small to make out, but the guy figured that the men inside the Suburban were law-enforcement and opted wisely, not to make a scene.

Animal snickered. It was interesting to gauge the reactions seen when one displayed an official badge and needless to say, the Naval Inspector General's office was technically an oversight office with naval officers overseeing the everyday operation of the world's largest blue-water Navy. Animal liked the leather-lined badge wallet and gold shield that Naval Inspectors were given. The badge gave them official status, but Animal was a blue-water sailor; a naval aviator and preferred the smell of salty sea air in his nostrils.

Harm, on the other hand, was enjoying the ride from the backseat of the Suburban. If anything he was pumped to start his first NAVINSGEN investigation. If anything, he was pumped to start his first NAVINSGEN investigation. They would be working closely with NCIS's Major Case Response Team, firstly due to the fact that there had been a murder which was NCIS's purview and secondly, if Animal's hunch was correct, there was fraud and perhaps espionage going on.

The problematic part for Gibbs was that with NAVINSGEN on the scene and JAG investigators to soon follow, he was stuck with a whole bunch of Navy brass coming down and making his life a living nightmare. "Any ideas why this went down?" He asked Animal.

"All we suspected was that he was cooking the books somehow and we opted to investigate the matter personally. We're hoping to get a look at the books if they haven't been removed. I'm going to have to see all papers in relation to the case." Animal returned the inquisitive look at the NCIS agent.

Seeing the ball was back in his court, Gibbs nodded silently, then looked at the two's web-belts and prominently open-carried M9s. "Expecting problems?" He inquired casually.

"Federal open-carry…" Animal returned. "NAVINSGEN requisitioned the permits suspecting we were going into a hornet's nest. Figure a show of the fact that we're armed will keep this murderer from showing his face, if we're lucky."

Gibbs nodded as he sighed heavily, then gave the two Navy officers a jaundiced look, "Just try not to loose or lose any bullets. It makes my paperwork hell."

DSD Office, Naval Station Three Rivers, Oakville, 1415 hrs

He knew that they were looking for him. Life could get very unpleasant for him if he was caught. The person, he'd eliminated; Bryce, however was a liability to the entire program, and he had no regrets over doing so. The DSD had employed him as a way to make problems disappear and he had done their dirty work for them for years without problems. He looked over at the tools of his trade; the tools of an assassin, the trusty pack of cigarettes that gave those a final puff, a miniature camera to take photos of sensitive documents to sell to the highest bidder. Even DSD didn't know who he was ultimately working for. All it took was a little adroit maneuvering and money was siphoned from one account to another and he could sit like a fat spider waiting for his prey to walk into his web.

Money and revenge were his motivations. The former was simple; profit in its simplest form was the desire for riches. The latter was to satisfy his basest desires to commit acts of mayhem.

Morgue, Oakville Morgue, Oakville, WI 1430hrs CST

NCIS Major Case Response Team Medical Examiner Donald Ducky Mallard looked over the body of one deceased United States Navy Captain Donovan Bryce laying on the examination table. "Ah, Let's see what you can tell us about what caused your death, shall we?" After drawing blood and running toxicological tissue samples testing, he was nowhere closer to determining cause of death than he was when he first started. The door opening to his examination room caused him to look up to see three individuals standing there, two trying hard not to gag. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" the corner of his lips turned up in a smile as he turned his bespectacled, protective shield covered face towards his team leader and the two Navy officers.

"Ducky, have you got anything for us?"

Ducky shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Jethro, I seem to be no further ahead than I was before you headed for the airport." He showed Gibbs the reports that had come out of the toxicological testing.

"So, nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Only if you call ordinary being removed from this existence with the means of a high-tech poison. Jethro."

The two naval officers looked at each other wryly. "So, what sort of condition was he in?" Harm asked. Animal kept silent, he didn't know the particulars of this case, nor did he venture to think that he was able to work around the intricacies of a criminal investigation.

"Aside from the poisoning, gentlemen, I found that there was right ventricular dilatation with fibroproliferative tricuspid valve. The pulmonary arteries, including the main arteries and elastic arteries to the arterioles, revealed fibroproliferative plaque; the latter was more severe and more prominent in the upper lobes than in the lower lobes."

"In English, Ducky?" Gibbs prompted.

"Many apologies, Jethro. Sometimes in my medical zeal I forget myself…His arteries and heart were absolutely clogged. I believe that he was hypertensive and if he didn't stop pumping cortisol, norepinephrine and adrenaline into his bloodstream, he would have killed himself within a month from stress alone. They say work can kill you. It just so happened that something other than his work killed him and we don't know exactly what." Gibbs looked at Ducky with a look of disbelief; had he just cracked another joke?

"So, we're looking for a maniac who poisoned a Navy captain who is allegedly siphoning money to some unknown person." Animal commented.

"That appears to be what's going on." Gibbs remarked casually as he looked over at Ducky, nodding a goodbye as he ushered the two officers out of the Forensic Examining Room. "We can assist you with the fraud investigation…"

"…but the criminal investigation is your territory. No worries." Harm replied. "We're not here to step on toes. Appreciate your telling us what's gone on though."

"I'd say keep on the lookout." Gibbs passed Animal his card with contact information. "I'd program that direct cell phone into your phones. Just in case you think you're being tailed."

Animal nodded. "We'll do that. So where do we go from here to find out what's going on. At least on the fraud front. Who's the head honcho around here."

"That would be Commander Leroy Clemons," Gibbs said. "I've dealt with him. He's the XO now that Bryce is on the slab and shortly thereafter the cooler. I don't know who the new guy is going to be but the connections that Bryce had are going to have to be re-established and I want to know who the hell is pulling the strings."

"No doubt." Animal commented disgustedly. "So, I get to deal with an O5 who isn't going to be too happy to know some pencil-pushing O6 is coming down ruffling feathers."

Naval Station Three Rivers, Oakville, WI 1535hrs CST

Animal strode through the double doors of Naval Station Three Rivers, Harm and Gibbs on his six. "Where's Commander Clemons!" Animal barked loudly enough to rattle windows. The office staff looked up to see three men, two in khakis with sidearms in web-belts and one in civvies, but with a blue jacket with gold lettering NCIS on the front and rear; he was also armed.

"What the hell is going on?" An officer in khakis, two silver oak leaves on his collars, strode out into the bullpen.

"Commander Leroy Clemons?" Animal asked him, eyeing him with a glare.

"Yes, sir. That would be me, sir." The man replied in a resonant voice deep in the bass register. His eyes travelled along Animal's ribbon rack, casually noting the naval aviator's wings and ribbon rack. His eyes widened a touch, when they saw the top-most ribbon, but he squelched down the surprise.

"Kind of figured that from your oak leaves, Commander." Animal said acerbically. "The name is Toshio Nakamura, Captain, Naval Inspector General's office. What I would like is access to all financial records, and all financial statements."

"Sir, a lot of that information has to do with top secret projects…" Clemons objected.

"…and you will find that I have levels of clearance high enough to deal with that matter as it crops up." Animal interrupted him with a wave of his arm squashing any further protestations to the contrary. "I report to the Naval Inspector General who in return reports to the Chief of Naval Operations…who can deal with any other matters with respect to the level of clearance that I currently hold. Am I making myself clear, Commander!?" Animal asked, his tone menacing.

"Yes, sir."

"The financial records, please. Now."

"Aye, aye, sir." The commander said as he turned to a YN3, "Yeoman, please find the Captain the records in what used to be Captain Bryce's office please and provide them a room where they can review those said records?"

"Any computers used for the filing of these financial reports, we need access to, too…forensic analysis." Gibbs helpfully pointed out. Animal noted that Clemons' back visibly became rigid; he suspected that Clemons was trying to hide something.

"You will have our full cooperation, sir." Commander Clemons replied stiffly turning to the Yeoman who had returned with the paper records in several voluminous binders and paused waiting for the three to follow him. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have projects to attend to…sir."

Animal and Harm looked at each other knowingly then at Gibbs who mentally jotted down that Clemons needed to be watched and investigated. As they walked behind the YN3 who lead them to the room that they were to sit down and read the financials to find discrepancies, Gibbs gestured to the two naval officers. Once the YN3 found the room, explained that the financials were to be kept secure at all times, and informed them that he would be back by secure to ensure that those financials could be returned under lock and key. When the door shut behind the YN3 and the three were left alone, Gibbs silently pressed a raised index finger to his lips, and whispered, "Bug scan." He said pulling a small device, an RF signal detector from his belt, pulling it out and checking the readout as he walked around the room. "I want to make sure this room is secure so that we can discuss the findings in here…" When Gibbs was finished he noted, "Room's clean. We can discuss things in here without worrying about anyone listening in."

Harm commented to Animal, "Under NAVREGS Article 1127 they cannot withhold information crucial to the investigation. I'm going to invoke Article 1127." Animal nodded and Harm continued. "1127. Control of Official Records: No person, without proper authority, shall withdraw official records or correspondence from the files, or destroy them, or withhold them from those persons authorized have access to them; which in this case would be us under official NAVINSGEN purview.

"What if they invoke the National Security clause." Gibbs asked. "If we disclose national security information, then we're liable ourselves and that could land us in a serious situation…and a not so nice stay in a crowbar hotel." He looked wary as he noted this to the two naval officers who nodded.

"In that case, "Animal replied, as senior officer in the investigation. "We refer the matter to the CNO, SECNAV and SECDEF and they can make the final decision with regards to the financials for the black project records. We aren't going to be making the findings public, but we will prosecute those responsible for fraud and misuse of government funds."

"But it will be a matter of record." Harm said, as he started digging into the records. "Sir, do you think that we should consider bringing in a NAVINSGEN forensic analysis team?"

"I think we should; it might seem aggressive, but it'll give those committing the fraudulent actions some pause to consider and if not, then they're just going to dig themselves deeper." Animal replied.

Harm and Gibbs considered that and nodded, opening up the binders and looking through, the figures and numbers confusing to them. "We're definitely going to have to bring in that NAVINSGEN forensic analysis team." Harm muttered more to himself than anything else. "This mumbo-jumbo is stuff for bean-counters."

"I agree." Gibbs replied, as he looked over the items.

"Do you have anybody in NCIS who is versed in fraud investigation onsite?" Animal asked. Gibbs shook his head, thought for a moment and…

…then replied, "I can put in a call to the Procurement Fraud division and see if they can send us a forensic accounting team which can recreate the records and I'll ask our Technical Services to send down someone versed in dealing with computer systems as well." He grinned wryly. "…and I thought I was going to be able to sit down to a good dinner tonight and relax before we wrapped things up with the murder. I didn't realize that there was this stuff going on too."

"…and it's all tied in…" Animal said. "We're looking at a Gordian knot of fraudulent dealings here and it doesn't look good." He looked at Harm. "Put in a call to Judge Advocate too. We need them down here as well."

JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, 1700hrs EST

The JAG raised the phone on his desk. "Tiner, could you please inform Lieutenant Commanders Austin and Gracen to come to my office, please?" It did not take too long before the two officers were arrayed at the position of attention in front of his desk.

"Take seats." RADM Stiles Morris intoned. "I just received a call from the NAVINSGEN investigators that they require Judge Advocate investigators with computer backgrounds to investigate in conjunction with the ongoing NAVINSGEN and NCIS investigations. Also, I am sending Lieutenant JG Bud Roberts with you. If I recall correctly, he is well versed in computers and in accounting. In that vein, you will pass the Tuxpan case to Lieutenant Commander Imes. You are to meet with her and clear your slate, transferring all other cases that you currently have open to her. For this case you will require an open docket and no other cases so that you have your full attention on this. I will be notifying DCIS that you require a federal enforcement carry permit and you three will be armed at all times while on this investigation. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"I should not need to advise you that black projects are a dangerous area of the Navy to deal with. And that you need to be on your guard. Do I?" RADM Morris intoned severely.

"No, sir…" Meg replied as she looked over at LCDR Gracen who looked appropriately nervous. This wasn't going to be one of their cakewalk assignments, she thought.

"Alright, Lieutenant Commanders Gracen, Austin. I expect that you both use the rest of today to distribute the rest of your cases amongst the other lawyers in the office, tell Lieutenant JG Roberts to do the same and then I expect you three to report to Andrews in order to get yourselves on a COD to Dane County Regional. I'll make sure that I notify Captain Nakamura and Lieutenant Commander Rabb that you three will be arriving between 2000hrs and 2200hrs as well as get LN2 Tiner to get you seats on that COD." Morris looked at the phone and then back at Lia and Meg.

"Aye, aye, sir!" Both officers chorused as they stood up.

"Dismissed." Morris said as he turned to his phone as the two about-faced and headed for the door. "Keep me informed of the situation."

"Yes, sir." They said as they exited the office door and closed the door behind them.

Walking by Tiner's desk nestled in a corner of the admiral's anteroom, they called out to Tiner. "Let us know what the time to be at Andrews is at. We need to be in Dane County Regional Airport by 2200hrs at the latest."

"Yes, ma'am." Tiner said, his usual confused look on his face.

As they walked out of the foyer, Lia said to Bud, "Lieutenant JG Roberts, admiral's orders, distribute your current cases to the other lawyers, we will be doing the same and you are expected to have your go-bag ready by 1800hrs. We will be departing Andrews for Dane County Regional. NAVINSGEN has requested our presence to assist in a case requiring Judge Advocate representation. Tiner will have our travel itinerary. Clear your slate by 1730hrs. Got it, Bud?"

"Aye, aye, Ma'am!" Bud reacted, eyeing LCDR Gracen. "Any idea where we're headed to, final destination?"

"Three Rivers, and it's top secret. Zip lips!" Meg informed him with a pleasant smile.

"Yes, ma'am!" Bud's eyes widened in surprise. He'd heard of the place, but hadn't known just how hush-hush the place was.

"We'll be briefed on the case once we get there." Meg continued. "So…time's a-wasting. Let's get our slates clear and let's get going." At that exact moment, a very efficient YN2 Tiner emerged from his hidey-hole and handed them each an itinerary sheet. The COD was departing in two hours which meant they had at least one hour before they had to make Andrews AFB.

"So much for a pleasant relaxed dinner, huh?" Lia muttered as they divvied up the cases amongst the lawyers who were still present.

"Yeah…looks like we'll have to grab and run when we get to Andrews." Meg sighed in frustration. "Hopefully they let us eat on the COD." Meg took a moment to tease her friend and coworker. "At least you'll be able to be with Harm." She smirked.

"Shut up, you."