Jethro: First to Fight (18 page)

She'd come to love it. She always loved
watching and reading mysteries, teasing information out of people was
fascinating. She'd also loved the old spy vids as a kid, her dad had dozens of
the movies and she'd watched them all. The gadgets had been intriguing.

Over the past year the young woman had
blossomed. Martial arts training had helped her self confidence, and taking
down an irate pirate who had slapped her had helped her self confidence grow by
leaps and bounds. Of course the fact that she had implants with fully enhanced
strength, speed, and toughness had played a part, the poor guy hadn't stood a
chance. And it didn't hurt that her second boyfriend had been a bit of a sub,
deferring to her needs first in the bedroom once he'd seen her in uniform.
Seeing his eyes widen and his pants bulge the first time she'd tried a command
look on him was something she still treasured and occasionally giggled about.
The steamy role play had been an incredible turn on that had gotten them
through two quarters before they'd parted company.

She blushed, wanting to twist like an
errant child as she watched the Commander digest their report.

Logan looked at their report on his
tablet. Finally he set it down in front of him. “I'll bet. And the sister?” he
finally asked.

Sekim shot Irene a look. She smiled,
deferring to him. Sekim was a fossil, a parochial old fart. She'd learned to
defer to him despite their rank differences because the older man had a wealth
of knowledge and experience. She wanted to use that, so she put up with his
quirks like her boss Lieutenant Montgomery had said.

Sekim cleared his throat. “Nancy O'Dell,
first and missing secretary to the esteemed Governor. That's where it get's
interesting. This Nelson character has been pumping the Ensign, trying to get
more out of him. Apparently he had been telling his sister stuff casually up
until a short time ago, the usual how your day was. But now that she's
missing...”

“And he's still giving them intel? Why?”

“He said they promised to help him find
her if he kept giving them information.” The ONI agent snorted. She looked at
her counterpart who also shook his head.

“I'm betting that went over well.”

“Yes, the guilt and realization has
eaten him up. I'm wondering what happened to the girl.”

“Dead men or in this case a woman, tell
no tales. I'm fairly certain she found something out or outlived her usefulness
and someone, possibly even Walker himself did her in. It could have been an
accident.”

“Is anyone investigating?”

The Lieutenant shook his head. “The
family hired some PI's but they were spooked and dropped the case. All dead
ends. No one at Justice seems interested in it. I think Judge Riley might take
a look if it passes him officially.”

“Ah. Nice stink to it.”

“I think the governor's opposition may
be banking it for later. Trot it out when he's vulnerable and then tear him a
new one. Or dethrone him.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“So, what do we do about O'Dell sir?”
the ONI Lieutenant asked. “We can't promote him, we can't trust him again.”

“We leave him alone,” Logan replied. The
Lieutenant stared at him. “Yes I'm serious. We flip him. He works for us, now
he'll pass on only what we want them to know. And he reports what they want to
know and who they tell him to contact to us.”

“I see,” the Lieutenant said nodding. “A
double, no, triple agent.”

“Something like that. The young man
wants to make amends, we'll let him do so. And we'll let him stick a knife in
the bastards that killed his sister while we're at it,” Logan replied.

After they left the Commander's officer
the NCIS agent turned to the ONI agent. “So, you buying all that?” Frank asked.
He wasn't sure what to make of this plan. It was more than a little dangerous
for the Ensign.

Irene cocked her head. She was reluctant
to go into details in public, but as long as they kept it light, she'd play
along. “Some. But he's got a point, if we leave him in place we'll be able to
keep track of what he says and to who. And the enemy will be less likely to
flip more of our people,” The female agent said cautiously. “It's classic
counter intelligence strategy actually.”

“Maybe,” Frank replied grudgingly.

She shrugged. “It's worth a shot. We'll
have to be careful on what we have him tell them. Honesty is the best policy.
We can work in lies later.”

“Or evasions. Since they're playing cute
about his sister he can be too. Brief him then cut him loose. We'll see if he
can take the pressure.” the ONI agent said. “This'll be interesting,” she
said.  She was already thinking about the software modifications they'd
need to make to the young man's implants to monitor him. They would be tricky.
She wondered if Nelson even realized the implants were recording devices? It
would be interesting to see his expression when he did find out. Eventually,
down the road... certainly not now. “Interesting indeed,” she murmured
wickedly.

“Yes it will,” the NCIS agent sighed.
“Indeed it will.”

...*...*...*...*...

Hurranna stepped on Jethro's toe. He
looked down at her. That was a no no, they were after all, in their dress
blues. They were standing honor guard at parade rest while they waited for the
ceremony to begin. The Marines were grouped together instead of with their
ship's companies. There were hundreds of beings there, a group from each ship.
Officers were in dress whites, with hash marks on their sleeves and gold braid.
The enlisted squids were in naval uniforms of white, but they had ballcaps on
instead of the covers the officers sported. Some of the squids had Plankowner
embroidered in the back of their ballcaps. He wasn't sure what to make of that.
He scowled at the stage and podium before responding. “What?” he asked through
his implants.

“Oh, oops, forgot,” she replied, opening
her side of the chat window. “Um, any truth to the rumors?”

“What rumors?” He texted back. There was
a slight breeze from the air conditioning, making the flags and pennants on
either side of the podium flutter. He hoped they'd get it over with soon, Neo's
didn't like standing in shoes, and dress shoes sucked. He'd have sores and
blisters all over soon.

“Um, scuttlebutt says we have to do this
every ninety days,” Hurranna said.

“You're kidding me,” Sergei said
appalled. Unfortunately he had said it out loud, looking down at her. Schultz
turned a glare on the liger. The liger stiffened, flicked his ears and returned
to parade rest. “A colonoscopy every Ninety? Are they serious?” he demanded in
the chat.

Jethro sighed. This was getting out of
hand. Hurranna flicked her ears. “See what you started?” he accused.

“Sorry,” she said, eyes dancing.

“Right, sure you are,” he chatted back.
His ears half flattened. He'd picked up on a few things, but he wasn't sure
what was what. “From what I know, we're going into a regular cycle of tests and
stuff.”

“Shit.”

“Frack.”

“Hang on,” Asazi said. “Not all of us
are involved. Well, some of us,” she said, entering the chat. “Is this a
private party or is anyone invited?” she asked and then added a smiley face.
Sergei snorted.

“No, by all means, join the party,”
Jethro said. He could sense other chats around him. The NCO's were big on
quiet, but not on net chatter. At least not while they were waiting. During the
ceremony would be a different thing.

“So... Thirty, ninety, yearly,” Asazi
said. “That's my take.”

“Thirty and ninety are tear downs and
stuff. That's for vehicles maintenance. Vessels too.”

“Oh.”

“And no, we're not involved in most of
it. The regular squids get to deal with the stuff. We might get dragged in for
the damage control stuff, inventory, or what have you. That's also every
month.”

“Shit.”

“No, we'll have our own headaches with
inventory, spit and polish, the usual crap,” Jethro said. “Plus proficiencies.”

“The proficiencies are dead easy. It's
the inventory and spit and polish that bugs me. Who cares if I've got a scratch
on something? If it won't come out it damn well won't come out. What am I
supposed to do then?”

“Tell me about it,” Hurranna said,
rolling her eyes. She even added a set to her chat icon.

“We're going to have inventories, kits,
the whole shebang when we have ninety day checkups. Plus anytime we have a
diplomatic visitor come by. That means shoes shined within an inch of your
lives, the proper creases in uniforms, the works.”

“Lovely.”

“So, the safe thing is to keep on it at
all times. That way it's not such a chore when it comes time to prove
everything works,” Schultz interjected into the chat. The chat group quieted.
“Which is why we're going to continue doing that little thing. And every other
little thing to spec. Got it?”

“Aye aye Gunny,” Jethro replied
instantly. The others echoed that.

Schultz turned ever so slightly to look
at Jethro over his shoulder. “Carry on then,” he said in the chat and then his
image darkened.

“Okay,” Jethro said. “Like the boss man
said, we keep it real. Keep up our training and keep our kits, work, and sleep
places squared away. You know the drill.”

“Aye aye.”

“And you know why too. At least you
should. We ever go into combat, we'll need that stuff in tip top shape and a
zero defect mentality. So you see some yahoo doing something...”

“Shut it down?”

“Well, I dunno. I haven't gotten that
far in the handbook. It's not really our department unless it's in the family.
But keep it in the family. The squad.” He grimaced. He really shouldn't have to
bring this up, it wasn't his place. But someone had to address the problem. He
wasn't sure what Gunny was doing about it, possibly individual counseling. He
was aware he'd stepped in it but now wasn't sure how to back out of it.

“Point.”

“Don't get stupid. Don't pick a fight,
don't tattle unless it's serious. I know you know the rumor about people
selling shit,” he texted, then grimaced. Over a hundred enlisted of both the
Marines and navy had been brought up on charges for embezzling or selling
military gear. Most of it was minor shit, some of it had been lost or given to
family. It was still on their ass. For minor offenses they were charged for the
cost of the item plus it's replacement, and usually given a Captain's mast. But
more serious stuff got you in hack bad. Two of those people had been newly
minted naval officers in supply. That didn't bode well. JAG was coming down on
them like a hammer, turning them into examples.

The problem was he knew why they needed
to keep their kits in good order, if you didn't have it when you needed it, you
were SOL. Lacking something could get you killed in combat, or even in a
training exercise. Which was funny, one Marine had tried to bull through a
training mission after giving up part of his
skinsuit
life support
system of all things. He had lost it in a poker game. How stupid could you be
to do that? Jethro thought. And he'd compounded the problem by trying to hold
his breath while they did a seal test. He'd passed out from anoxia. He'd been
lucky he'd survived.

The luckless Private was now in such
deep pucky he needed a periscope to see daylight. He would be in hack for a
long time to come, he'd pretty much toasted his career. He'd tried to resign
only to find out that option wasn't available. The navy was done playing nice
and wasn't about to turn the other cheek.

How stupid could you be to do that? He
thought. Apparently the guy had thought he wouldn't get caught, just down check
the parts and get fresh ones. Or maybe he thought he'd win them back in another
card game? Jethro shook his head mentally. Whatever the guy had been planning,
it hadn't worked out as he'd hoped, he'd gotten caught. He and others like him
were serving as reminders to the rest of the military personnel to toe the
line.

“Remember to smile for the cameras,”
Sergei said over the link. Jethro looked his way. The liger pulled his lips
back to smile, showing off his very pearly white teeth. Jethro looked up at him
and snorted softly. The liger might have been a big baby about the pain after
the local anesthetic wore off, but he liked the results. His eyes returned to
front, but he opened his scanners and took a look at the camera crews clustered
in strategic locations behind the assembly and off in the corners. He'd
overheard the various media outlets arguing over who got what position.
Fortunately someone had brokered a deal for them to share a feed from several
of the choicest positions.

Jethro frowned. He knew his thoughts were
rambling, but there really wasn't much else to do, unless he wanted to do
paperwork through his plants. Tempting but no, he wanted to remain sane after
all. Though, come to think of it, the Gunny might be doing just that. Valenko,
from his expression, might be running a combat sim, or playing chess, who
knows. He was tempted to look into seeing if one of the squad was willing to
play a game...