Chapter 6 - The Admiral's Favorite Officer
Rear Admiral Victor Sloane arrived at Harbor Point the next morning.
His visit hadn't been scheduled.
By eight o'clock, the installation's administrative staff were preparing briefing folders, cleaning conference rooms, and arranging security escorts.
Commander Collins reappeared in uniform.
He walked through the headquarters lobby with a confidence that made Elena's stomach twist.
His relief from duty had not been formally rescinded.
But he was accompanying the admiral as an invited member of the visiting party.
Captain Hale met them near the main conference room.
"Admiral."
"Captain Hale."
They shook hands.
Sloane was sixty-one, silver-haired, and impeccably dressed.
His expression carried the polite impatience of a man accustomed to people moving out of his way.
"I understand this installation has become the center of a rather unfortunate misunderstanding."
Hale didn't smile.
"Sir, we have an ongoing NCIS investigation involving possible misconduct and compromised food shipments."
"Yes. I've been briefed."
Sloane glanced toward Collins.
"Grant tells me a junior officer has been making allegations without understanding the broader logistical picture."
Hale's eyes narrowed.
"Lieutenant Reyes identified discrepancies that warranted investigation."
"So I've heard."
Elena stood several feet away, holding a folder.
Sloane noticed her.
"Lieutenant Reyes?"
"Yes, sir."
He approached.
"I understand you're responsible for much of this excitement."
Elena maintained her posture.
"I reported receiving-record discrepancies, Admiral."
"And now the entire region is being inconvenienced."
She took a breath.
"Sir, three sailors were hospitalized."
His smile faded slightly.
"I'm aware."
"The medical investigation is ongoing. But I believed the record discrepancies needed to be reported."
Sloane studied her for several seconds.
Then he said, "Initiative is admirable, Lieutenant. Judgment is more important."
Collins looked pleased.
Elena answered carefully.
"Yes, sir."
Sloane moved past her.
As he entered the conference room, he spoke quietly to Hale.
"I expect this matter handled without unnecessary embarrassment to the Navy."
Hale's response was equally quiet.
"My priority is the safety of our personnel and the integrity of the investigation."
The admiral stopped.
For a brief moment, the two men stared at each other.
Then Sloane walked inside.
Elena had served long enough to recognize the tension.
It wasn't a routine disagreement.
It was a warning.
By ten o'clock, Brooks had learned about the admiral's arrival.
She called Elena.
"Did Sloane speak to you?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
Elena repeated the conversation.
Brooks sighed.
"All right. Document the interaction while it's fresh."
"Is he involved?"
"We don't know."
"But his photograph was in that envelope."
"I know."
"Does that mean anything?"
"It means someone wants you to look at him."
Elena frowned.
"You're saying the photograph might be misleading."
"I'm saying investigators don't get to choose the answer before examining the evidence."
Elena glanced toward the conference room.
"Collins was standing beside him."
"That doesn't establish criminal involvement."
"Neither does having a fake inspection approval."
"No. But falsifying a document and intentionally exposing people to unsafe conditions are separate questions. We have to prove each one."
Elena knew Brooks was right.
She still hated how slowly the truth seemed to move.
After the call, she went to the medical center.
Petty Officer Ward had arranged for Elena to receive a permitted update about the hospitalized sailors.
Two were improving.
The third remained seriously ill.
His name was Petty Officer Second Class Jacob Ellis.
Twenty-four years old.
Married.
Father of a ten-month-old daughter.
Elena stood outside his room when his wife approached.
"Are you Lieutenant Reyes?"
"Yes."
"I'm Hannah Ellis."
Elena shook her hand.
Hannah's eyes were red from crying.
"They told me you're the officer who found the problem."
"I identified concerns about the shipment records. The doctors and investigators are still working to determine exactly what happened."
Hannah looked through the glass toward her husband.
"Jacob called me Thursday night."
Elena listened.
"He said the chicken tasted strange. He joked that Navy food was finally going to kill him."
Her voice broke.
"By Saturday, he couldn't stand without help."
"I'm sorry."
Hannah wiped her face.
"Then somebody told me he might have gotten sick because he didn't follow basic hygiene rules."
Elena felt anger rise.
"Who told you that?"
"A commander."
"Did he give his name?"
"Collins."
Elena closed her eyes.
Hannah continued.
"He said rumors about food contamination were hurting morale. He told me not to repeat them."
Elena looked at her.
"Mrs. Ellis, have you spoken with NCIS?"
"No."
"Would you be willing to?"
Hannah turned toward her.
"If it helps Jacob, I'll talk to anybody."
Elena gave her Brooks's contact information.
Then she asked permission to sit with Hannah for a few minutes.
They talked about Jacob.
His daughter.
His plans to finish his degree.
The little green toy dinosaur he kept beside his hospital bed because his daughter had insisted he take it.
For the first time, the investigation became something more than shipping records.
It became a husband who might never return home.
Elena left the hospital determined not to let anyone reduce those sailors to an administrative inconvenience.
That afternoon, she received a message from an unfamiliar number.
The words made her stop walking.
I AM REBECCA SHAW.
DO NOT TRUST THE PHOTOGRAPH.
A second message followed.
THE ADMIRAL ISN'T THE PERSON YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID OF.
Elena called Brooks.
Before the agent answered, a third message appeared.
ASK CAPTAIN HALE WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS BROTHER.
Elena stared at her phone.
She knew Captain Hale had a younger brother.
She had seen him mentioned in a command biography.
Commander Michael Hale.
Navy Reserve.
Former logistics officer.
But what had happened to him?
Brooks answered.
"Reyes?"
Elena read the messages.
Silence followed.
Then Brooks said, "Do not respond."
"Why?"
"Because Rebecca Shaw's phone was recovered from the vehicle that crashed."
Elena looked down at the screen.
"Then how is she texting me?"
"We don't know."
A fourth message appeared.
It contained only a photograph.
A hospital identification bracelet.
The name printed across it was unmistakable.
MICHAEL HALE.
Beneath the name was a date.
Six weeks earlier.
May you like
The same week the earliest illness complaints had begun.
And beside the bracelet lay a small blue evidence seal.
