“How did you know he’d be down there tonight?” Robbins asked.
Jim wasn’t about to admit that he’d challenged Booth to go down into the tunnels. “We didn’t,” Branner said. “But we’d learned some things at Elizabeth DeWinter’s office yesterday afternoon from Midshipman Markham, some things you may not yet know. We’re thinking now that Dell’s death may have been aimed at Markham. That Dell may have been a pawn in a bigger, and nastier, game between Booth and Markham.”
The commandant nodded thoughtfully. “And do your superiors agree with all these…hypotheses?” he asked her.
“NCIS believes the investigation into the Booth matter should be expanded and pursued vigorously,” she said.
The commandant eyed her carefully. “I believe you received quite different directions, earlier.”
“They became OBE after we’d talked to Markham. We knew that what she was telling us would change everything. So to speak.”
The ghost of a smile crossed Captain Robbins’s lips, but before he could say anything, Branner’s cell phone chirped. She turned to answer it, said “Okay” three times, and then closed the phone. “My headquarters wants a joint conference call with me and Mr. Hall, sir. Do you mind? We need to brief them officially, while everything’s still wet, as it were.”
Robbins nodded. “And then, in the morning,” he said, “I’d appreciate the same courtesy for me and my staff, if that won’t be too much trouble.”
“Not at all, sir,” Branner said before Jim could get a word in edgewise. “Thank you, sir.”
Robbins started to say something, then shook his head and went back down the steps. The commanders joined him and they walked around the corner of the building toward Tecumseh Court, the two officers perfectly in step with Robbins.
“WTF? Over,” Jim said quietly.
“That wasn’t Chang. I paged myself. We don’t need to get into a ‘Who shot John’ discussion with little Adolf there. Time to blow this pop stand. Get some sleep.”
“Time to find that goddamned Booth.”
“Let them look for him. If he’s still here in the Yard, he has to hide from four thousand of them, plus the officers. Let’s get you back to the boat before you fall down and I have to carry you. Some more.”
“I resent that, and I’m not that bad off,” he said, trying not to wince when he stood up. The bandages felt like a second skin, a badly sunburned skin.
“Okay, so let’s get me back to the boat before I fall down, how ’bout that?”
Jim dreamed he was locked in a room full of telephones, all of which had started to ring at once. It was an annoying dream, which got even more annoying when he picked one up and it kept ringing.
“Answer the damned thing,” Branner mumbled from beneath the covers.
He felt for the bedside phone, got it off the hook, and stuck it in his ear without opening his eyes. His upper back felt like he’d been dragged down a gravel road for an hour or so.
“Hall,” he croaked.
“Mr. Hall? Good morning, sir. This is Eve, the commandant’s secretary? The commandant’s compliments, sir, and he requests your presence in his office at zero seven-thirty.”
Jim opened one eye, glared at the clock radio. Once he was able to focus, saw that it was 6:50.
“Sure, why not?” he said, and hung up before Eve could reply.
“What?” Branner said, still underneath the covers somewhere.
“I’ve just been given a come-around,” he said. “Dant’s office, zero seven-thirty. That’s a half hour from now.”
“Have a good time,” she said. “Don’t tell anybody where I am.”
“Right,” he said, getting up and staggering over toward the head to shuck his clothes. Mindful of all the road rash on his back, he opted for a quick front-side-only shower. “Only thing is, they’ve probably got Booth,” he called, and grinned when he heard her swearing.
It seemed like only an hour ago that they’d collapsed on the bed fully dressed. Branner had made some noises about going to the guest cabin, but he had sensed her exhaustion and perhaps more. Within an hour, she’d awakened in the grip of a nightmare, fiercely holding on to Jim for several minutes of uncontrolled shivering and tears. He’d finally rolled her under the covers, clothes and all, and then just held her until she fell asleep.
Twenty-five minutes later, Jim and Branner drove through the gate at the visitors’ center in Jim’s truck and parked in one of the slots reserved for police vehicles. They walked across the Yard and entered Bancroft through the second wing’s terrace doors, where they found most of the overhead lights still out after the events of the prior night. The sound of a portable generator could be heard from the courtyard between Dahlgren Hall and Bancroft.
“Sorry about all the hysterical waterworks last night,” she said as they strode down the empty corridor.
“I was getting ready to do the same thing,” he said, careful not to look at her. “That was too fucking close, all around.”
“Still,” she replied. “I’m glad you were there.”
They made it to the commandant’s office at 7:29. Eve beamed her approval, then frowned when she saw Branner. Jim had managed a jacket and tie, but Branner was still in the same outfit she’d worn down in the tunnels and then slept in. It had not improved with age.
“But, um, I’m afraid this appointment is for Mr. Hall,” she began, eyeing Branner’s rumpled clothes. Jim cut her off.
“Agent Branner needs to know when she’ll be able to interview Midshipman Booth,” he said.
“Midshipman Booth?” Eve said blankly. “I don’t know anything about a Midshipman Booth. I’ll have to consult with the commandant. If you would both please have a seat, I’ll-”
“Get in here, both of you,” Robbins called from inside his office. Jim followed Branner into the commandant’s inner office. He did not invite them to sit down. He stood behind his desk, peering up at Jim over his reading glasses. “I think it was made clear the other day, to both of you, now that I think about it, that this matter had been resolved by a SecNav determination.”
“We’re talking about the Dell matter?” Jim asked.
“Yes, Mr. Hall. The Dell matter. What else would we be talking about?”
“I was assuming you wanted to know why the utility tunnel complex was wrecked last night. Why you and your office are all running on emergency generators this morning. That you’d want a fuller explanation of what happened down there, and why we were down there.”
“Yes, I do. But right now, Midshipman Markham hasn’t shown up for morning meal formation. She signed in very early this morning, well after the expiration of town liberty. And another firstie is also UA.”
“Gosh, let me guess,” Jim said. “Dyle Booth.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve misplaced him?” Branner asked.
Robbins frowned and sat down slowly. “It’s most unusual. Two first-class UA. Especially this late in the year. And most out of character for Midshipman Markham.”
“But not for Booth?”
“Booth’s company officer reports that he is something of a loner within the company, but he’s had no conduct offenses of any kind for almost three years.”
“Well,” Branner said, pulling up a chair and plopping down into it. “I’m tired, so I’m going to sit down. Let me fill you in on what we think we know about Midshipman First Class Dyle Booth.”
“But, see here, I-”
“You want to listen, Captain. That’s what you want to do right now.”
Robbins opened his mouth to protest, saw the look on Branner’s face, and shut it. Jim grabbed himself a chair, reversed it, and sat down, being very careful not to strain the shirt across his back. Branner was gathering her thoughts when the commandant’s door burst open. It was Captain Rogers, and he was visibly agitated.
“Sir!” he shouted. “We have a possible hostage situation. Eighth wing. One mid is threatening to throw another one off the roof!”