Chapter 2 (Pt 2)
"Webb, what are you ..." he stopped short, as he noted an even graver expression that clouded the special agent's features.
Clayton Webb, who has been watching Harm intently up to that moment, glanced over at the Admiral, and the latter nodded almost imperceptibly, his frown deepening. The CIA's deputy director of operations fixed his gaze on the Commander once again as if determined not to miss even a slightest change in the naval officer's expression.
"We have a . situation aboard the USS Seahawk."
"A situation?" Harm echoed, wrinkling his brow in consternation.
Webb hesitated a moment before continuing, knowing the information would not be taken lightly. "Our Intel discovered a hiding place of some Taliban troops," he spoke at last. "An air strike was ordered, but ... there was an information leak."
Harm tensed visibly, guessing the rest. "And the air strike...?"
"Failed," Webb nodded. "Two F-14 were lost."
"The crews?"
Webb shook his head. "No survivors. I'm sorry."
"Damn," Harm muttered under his breath. He was just on the Seahawk a few days ago. He'd flown a mission with some of the pilots, perhaps even the ones that were killed.
"That's not all, Commander," Admiral Chegwidden cut in, breaking his train of thought. "Mr. Webb here believes there is a spy aboard the ship, someone working for the Taliban." He watched as a look of anger and disbelief registered in his junior officer's eyes. "A CIA agent who was sent there to investigate the leak was found dead early this morning." A.J. cast a quick glance at Webb, adding in a tight and slightly edgy voice, "It appears he was getting close."
Harm lowered his gaze to the floor, taking a moment to digest the information. "What now?" he asked finally, looking rom one man to the other.
Webb pushed himself away from the wall, his eyes never leaving Harm's face. "Because of what happened aboard the Seahawk, our line of communication with Afghanistan has been temporarily cut off for fear of compromising our man in country," he stated gravely. "We need to restore that line as soon as possible. We need to find the s.o.b. that is responsible for this mess and neutralize him." He paused, walking over to Harm, and sat down on a chair next to him. "We have no idea who the traitor might be," he added gravely, answering the silent question in Commander's eyes. "That's why I need someone there whom I can trust ... I need you, Harm."
Stunned by such uncharacteristic for Webb form of request, Harm didn't respond right away.
"One man has already lost his life trying to find this traitor, Commander," A.J. interjected, misinterpreting his silence as hesitation. "You don't have to do this."
Harm blinked, snapping back to the present, and turned to his C.O., openly meeting his concerned gaze. "When do I leave, Sir?"
A tight worry line creased the Admiral's forehead, and he cursed Webb silently for the millionth time that day. "Soon as you can pack your bags," he responded mechanically, but his voice held reluctant undertones. A.J. was always weary of Webb's harebrained schemes that involved his officers. And now more than ever his concern was raised to an alarming high. "There's one more thing, Commander," he added quietly, as Rabb stood up waiting to be dismissed. "Due to the security breach, you are not to divulge the true objective of your mission to anyone outside this office. Your cover story will be that you are recalled to active duty because of the loss of those two pilots. The only people that will be aware of the true nature of your mission are you, special agent Webb, myself, and Captain Johnson of the Seahawk. No one else. Understood?"
Harm cringed inwardly at the thought of having to lie to Mac. 'But,' he reasoned to himself, 'perhaps it is better than having her worry over me. She'll have enough to worry about with Bud.' "Understood, Sir."
"Dismissed."
As the door closed behind his junior officer, A.J. Chegwidden let out a small sigh, worry etched on his face.
'Good luck, son.'