Against All Enemies (19 page)

"Thanks, Master Chief."

Maines shrugged. "It's my job, sir. Too bad I can't have a personal talk with Vox. If he'd attacked me he wouldn't be walking around right now."

"That's okay, Master Chief. I have a feeling that even if Vox isn't already real sorry for what he did, he's going to be real sorry before all's said and done."

"Are you sorry for him, sir?"

"Hell, no."

"I didn't think so." Maines gave Paul a fierce grin. "By your leave, sir." She left, heading in the direction Kanto had gone.

Paul exhaled again, then walked out of the compartment. He had a lot of other things to do.

* * *

Late that afternoon, Paul was standing on the quarterdeck, talking to Senior Chief Imari and a contractor who claimed the tracking software problem had been fixed even though the same problems kept popping up, when Brad Pullman came out as well. "Don't tell me you're still working," Pullman chided Paul.

"Yeah. Some of us have real jobs."

"Better you than me. I had duty last night and I'm ready to get off this tub and hit the bars."

"Have one for me."

"I'm a better shipmate than that, Paul. I'll have two for you." Pullman laughed and faced the officer of the deck. "Request permission to go ashore."

Paul shook his head and went back to arguing with the contractor. Then he heard something unusual and looked up again.

Brad Pullman wasn't far from the ship. He had three people standing by him, one in front and one on each side. The one in front Paul recognized as Special Agent Gonzalez. As Paul watched, Gonzalez used a small device to scan over Pullman, locating what seemed from this distance to be a couple of data coins. Gonzalez dropped the coins into his data pad ports, read briefly, then nodded. A pair of hand restraints appeared and were clapped around Pullman's wrists.

Paul realized his mouth was hanging open as Pullman was led away. He shut it, then spotted Special Agent Connally near the ship as well. Seeing that Paul was looking at her, Connally gave him a discreet but triumphant thumbs up and then followed the agents taking Brad Pullman into custody.

"Sir, what happened to Mr. Pullman?" Senior Chief Imari asked, staring at the departing figures.

Paul shook his head, trying to clear it. "I . . . I need to see the captain, Senior Chief." Ignoring the contractor, Paul went in search of the captain. He didn't feel triumphant, just sick to his stomach.

* * *

The wardroom was crowded with officers again and filled with a buzz of conversation. Paul hung near the back, trying not to look like the man who'd help get Brad Pullman arrested.
And I still can't believe he's actually guilty
.

"Attention on deck!" Commander Kwan barked and everyone leaped to attention as Captain Hayes entered.

Hayes looked around the compartment for a moment, his expression unreadable. "As some of you may already be aware, Lieutenant Pullman has just been arrested. He was apparently carrying highly classified information which had been illegally downloaded from the ship." Hayes paused while his audience absorbed that information. Paul, watching faces, saw various degrees of shock and disbelief registering. Commander Moraine had gone very pale, her cheek twitching spasmodically.

The captain cleared his throat before speaking again. "There'll be a full investigation into the charges against Lieutenant Pullman. You will all be expected to cooperate in that investigation to best of your ability. Lieutenant Sinclair." Paul jerked his head up, staring at the captain. "You and Chief Sharpe will be our primary points of contact with NCIS during their investigation. Make sure the XO and I are kept fully informed."

"Yes, sir."

Hayes paused again, long enough for Commander Destin to interject a question. "Captain, exactly what is Pullman going to be charged with? Mishandling classified materials? That doesn't seem serious enough to warrant—"

"If I didn't make it clear before, Lieutenant Pullman is suspected of committing espionage. The extent and duration of the suspected espionage is one of the focus points for the investigation." Hayes grimaced. "I know this is unpleasant news. I expect you all to continue focusing on your jobs. If the crew poses questions about Lieutenant Pullman, you are to tell them that there is an ongoing investigation and you can't comment on it. That's all." The captain turned abruptly and left the wardroom so fast he was already out the hatch before Kwan could yell "attention on deck" again.

The XO gave them all a hostile look. "You heard the captain. Keep your mouths shut on this." Then he left quickly, heading in the same direction the captain had gone.

The other officers held themselves at attention a moment longer, too stunned to do otherwise, until Commander Destin snapped, "Carry on." She shook her head, speaking in a low voice to the other department heads near her.

Gabriel was staring into the distance. "Brad was
spying
on us?" she asked no one in particular.

Paul swallowed and nodded. "That's the . . . the allegation. It hasn't been proven."

"But the captain said Brad had classified material he'd taken off the ship."

"Uh, yeah."

Jack Abacha suddenly looked livid with anger. "He was in our stateroom. He lived with us and worked with us and he was spying on us? Why?"

"I have no idea, Jack. Look, there's a lot that needs to be looked into. It's possible the charges won't hold up, or won't be all that serious. It's going to depend on what the investigation finds."

Ensign Taylor had sat back down silently, but now she shook her head. "Too smart. He figured he was too smart to play by the rules. And I'll lay you odds, boys and girls, that Mr. Wise Ass Pullman figured he was too smart to get caught."

"We don't know that he's guilty—"

"I do," Taylor stated firmly. "My gut tells me he is, and my gut don't lie." Then she grinned without much humor. "I guess that means I don't have to worry about being a member of the court-martial, huh?"

The officers were trickling out of the wardroom when Chief Sharpe stuck his head in. "Mr. Sinclair? Need you, sir."

Paul followed Sharpe, feeling the eyes of his fellow officers upon him as he left the wardroom. Sharpe waved down the passageway in the direction of Paul's stateroom. "We got company, sir. I hope you have a spare toothbrush on you."

"What?" Then the likely meaning of Sharpe's words struck home and Paul headed for the stateroom he shared with Brad Pullman.

A woman in civilian clothes stood outside the stateroom, which had crime-scene tape strung across the hatch. Paul came to halt before her, staring into his stateroom. He could see two other civilians in there, methodically searching the compartment.

The woman gave Paul a hard look, then read his name tag and her face cleared. "Oh, Sinclair. You're our point of contact."

Paul could only nod.

"Special Agent Connally sends her respects. She didn't think she ought to come aboard in an official capacity."

That took a moment to soak in. Then Paul nodded again.
If Connally came on as an NCIS agent, then everyone would know I'd been walking an NCIS agent around officers' country after hours, and everyone would start to figure out what role I played in this
. "Thank you. What needs to be done?"

She waved toward the agents in Paul's stateroom. "We're doing it. There'll be sweeps later on of places like the captain's cabin to see if any taps were placed there by Pullman. But first we need to go through this compartment atom by atom and see what we find."

Paul rubbed his forehead hard with the heel of his hand, trying to push away the dazed feeling inside him. "Any guess how long this compartment will be off-limits?"

"No. Sorry. It'll take as long as it takes."

"Okay."
I'll have to talk to Commander Smithe about him finding temporary berths for me, Randy Diego and Jack Abacha. But all our uniforms, other clothes, personal articles and everything else are in that stateroom. This is not going to be pleasant
.

"All your stuff's in there?" the agent asked.

"Yeah."

"We'll check out some of that as soon as we can and pass it on to you. Clothes and things like that."

"Thanks. Here's the link to my data pad. Please have somebody let me know as soon as your work is done in here."

"Sure. After all, we owe you one."

"Yeah, well, that's something I'd prefer not be widely known."

The NCIS agent gave a knowing nod. "Understood. We'll keep you up to date on anything that happens."

Paul turned and began walking, lost in thought until Sharpe made a sound to get his attention and began talking softly. "Excuse me, sir, but I assume this is what that thing I didn't know nothing about was about."

"Yeah," Paul confirmed.

"Good on you, sir. It couldn't have been easy deciding to work with NCIS on that. Not with a fellow officer involved."

"It wasn't. But there were some people I didn't want to let down." He gave Sharpe a look. "Like the local cop."

"And he appreciates that, sir. I'll tell you frankly that I'm proud to have worked with you the last few years. My relief's supposed to show up tomorrow and I'll let him know he'd better do a good job for you."

"Tell you what, Sheriff. I'll tell him that I learned a lot from a real professional, and that I was proud to work with you."

Sharpe grinned. "Damn, sir, if you wasn't marryin' Ms. Shen, we'd have to get hitched ourselves."

"That's not funny, Sheriff." But he was grateful for the brief distraction the conversation had brought. Everything still refused to make sense inside his head. Lieutenant Brad Pullman, a fellow officer and someone he'd trusted, arrested on suspicion of espionage. And Paul couldn't just blow it off as a mistake because he himself knew about the computer tap and the trap set to catch someone stealing classified information. Nothing made sense and the facts kept clashing with each other. How could it be true? How could Pullman actually have done something like that? It seemed cut and dried, Pullman caught red-handed, but how many things were there that Paul didn't know? Things that might exonerate Pullman?

Only one thing seemed certain, that Pullman would be facing a court-martial soon. Which meant Paul Sinclair's role in the matter was far from done.

Paul knocked on a familiar door, then entered. Commander Alex Carr, Judge Advocate General's Corps, looked at him from where she was hanging from the chin-up bar mounted on one side of her office. "Paul! Good to see you." Dropping lightly to the floor, she sat down at her desk, waved Paul to the chair in front of the desk, and smiled in welcome as she stretched her arms after the exercise. "Here we are again. Not under the happiest of circumstances, of course."

"It's under better circumstances than last time, ma'am," Paul noted.

"Oh, yes. I much prefer being on the same side as you are." She twisted her mouth. "How is Ms. Shen doing?"

"Pretty good."

"'Pretty good' or 'pretty good considering'?"

Paul hesitated before answering. "Pretty good considering," he finally admitted.

Carr looked away, her expression hard for Paul to read. "There's not a lot of things in my life and career that I truly hate having been involved with, but that case is one of them. Does she hate me?"

"I . . . don't think so."

"I wouldn't blame her if she did. I didn't bring the charges against her for what happened on the
Maury
, and I sure as hell didn't have anything to do with all that publicity about her being charged with causing all those deaths, but I did prosecute the case against her." Carr sighed. "Things you do because you have to in order to convict someone you figure is guilty are sometimes hard to stomach. Doing those things to someone who turned out to be certainly innocent of the alleged crimes is a crime in itself. Or so I think."

Paul nodded, not speaking. There didn't seem to be any proper response. He knew Carr was referring particularly to the parts of Jen's court-martial in which Jen had been implicated in an improper relationship with a fellow officer on board the
Maury
, as well as forcing Jen to publicly admit she'd become involved with Paul a few days before her transfer off the
Michaelson
.

Commander Carr fell silent for a moment as well. "How about you, Paul? How're you doing?"

"Well, pretty good, too, I guess."

She gave him an arch look. "No fall-out from your actions?"

Paul felt a small knot form in his stomach. "Fall-out?"

"Come on. You know what I mean. You've gone to the mat three times on matters of principle, done what you've believed was right despite the possible consequences. That scares some people, Paul."

He nodded slowly. "I'm beginning to see that, ma'am. Why?"

"Why? Hell, Paul, everybody's got some skeletons in the closet. Professional and personal skeletons. They're worried you might rattle them, or not go along when something bad pops up in the future and everybody else decides to just sort of sweep it under the rug."

Paul thought of how Ensign Taylor had explained Commander Moraine's attitude toward him. "I had someone warn me about that."

Carr's eyes narrowed, somehow reminding Paul of a great cat scenting prey. "Threateningly or in a friendly way?"

"Friendly."

"Good." She relaxed, then gave Paul a worried look. "You've damaged your career. You know that."

"Yeah." Paul let the bitterness show. "My orders got changed to Mars."

"Mars? Damn. Nothing subtle about that. Paul, I hate to see your career run aground because you did the right thing twice and stood by a friend the other time. I asked you before if you'd like to be a lawyer some day. That offer stands. If you put in for a transfer to the JAG Corps I can pull some strings, make sure you get one of the law scholarships and start a new career as a Navy lawyer."

"I . . ."
It's a great offer. I know that. But I also know it's not for me
. "Thank you, ma'am. Thanks very much. But that's not my road. Not yet, anyway. I know I've got some career baggage following me around now, but—"