“Testing, one-two-three,” he said aloud. “Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.” He smiled. No one in shape could appreciate the joy of climbing four floors and still being able to talk. His heart skipped a beat, causing a quick falling sensation, before it returned to normal. His legs ached and his breathing was rapid, but he could talk in a normal voice.
Zeichner started toward the tower. Ahead, he recognized Gainer climbing the ladder leading to the crow’s nest above the tower. On the deck stood Montague, her hand shielding her eyes, staring up as the former soldier climbed.
Gainer reached the crow’s nest just as Zeichner walked up alongside Montague.
“What’s he doing?”
She dropped her hand. “Oh, Mr. Zeichner. How are you feeling, sir?”
“I’m fine. What’s Kevin doing?”
“He’s checking to see if our suspect is on the mast platform.” She shielded her eyes again and looked up.
“Wouldn’t that tell our suspect that we suspected him?”
She opened her mouth to reply, her brow wrinkling downward as she tried to think of an answer.
“Never mind,” Zeichner said, the edge of his lips curling left. Just like two young agents to think of the moment instead of a long-range plan. If this guy was a foreign agent, which Zeichner doubted, these two had just confirmed any suspicions Zheng might have had. Zeichner thought about shouting up for Gainer to come back down, but the noise of the flight deck preparations ongoing with the launch of the F-22As would have drowned out his words. Besides, if he shouted, he ran the risk of bringing on the fatigue he had just conquered.
Gainer’s head disappeared into the floor opening of the crow’s nest. A few minutes later, he started down.
“Well, Dr. Zheng should have no doubt now we are on to him,” Zeichner said.
She dropped her hand and shook her head. “He’s probably like most spies and thinks he’s invincible. He probably doesn’t even know what you two look like.”
“He knows. We’ve had too many ’serendipitous’ encounters since we set sail for him not to know. He’d have to be a pretty stupid spy to not be aware of the law enforcement people around him.”
She bit her lower lip for a moment. “How did he act?”
Her expression told everything. She was trying to cut Zeichner out. As a young A-type personality, she needed to make the capture. Zeichner was a legacy; a passed-over ancient who could upset this applecart of hers. He smiled.
“He acted like most people you pass in the passageway of a ship or meet on a street. Greetings and so-longs. His eyes didn’t widen and he didn’t try to bolt for it when we stumbled into each other. He acted like every innocent person I’ve ever met.”
“Did he act anything like some of the guilty ones you’ve met?”
Zeichner thought about it for a moment. “Yes, he did,” he agreed reluctantly.
Her eyes widened. “Mr. Zeichner, I think… well, I’m sure,” she stumbled.
He waved her down. “Not to worry, Angela. I’ve been there, done that.” Zeichner looked up at Gainer, who was climbing down. “The important thing is that Kevin not fall. He’s a good agent; quick to do anything required to meet the needs of the case.”
Montague looked in the same direction. “Yes, he is. He’s very good. New, isn’t he?”
Zeichner sighed. She’s trying to assess her competition, he told himself. So young. She’ll go places. Her arrival was no coincidence, nor was it a coincidence Angela Montague was chosen. He knew a potential espionage case on the Navy’s foremost scientific project was a career catapult for whoever solved it. Not for him. Once you reach your fifties, your experience is valued, but leadership opportunities go to the groomed coming up rapidly behind you on the ladder of success. You had your turn. These thoughts went through his head rapidly, and what surprised him was the lack of emotion he felt on knowing his own place. He glanced at Montague and back to Gainer. Both of them would move up the NCIS ladder. Gainer would stop climbing long before this hungry agent standing beside him.
Gainer jumped the last few rungs, landing with bent knees near them.
“What did he do when you got up there?” Montague asked.
Gainer shook his head and looked at Zeichner. “He’s not up there, Boss. There’s a young sailor up there — a boatswain mate — who said Dr. Zheng had not arrived yet but he expected him.”
“Where do you think he is?” Montague asked.
“His stateroom?” Gainer asked.
Zeichner nodded. “He could be in his stateroom, or he could be using this lockdown time to do a little free-time espionage. We know he’s interested in the Unmanned Underwater Vehicles and the F-22A Raptors if we read the classified intelligence reports—”
Montague interrupted. “I don’t recall reading anything about the suspect indicating his interests, Mr. Zeichner. Are there messages or reports out here that I’m not privy to?” There was a hint of anger in her voice.
Zeichner nodded. “You think he’s a spy for the People’s Republic of China. Right?”
She nodded.
“Then, you read what interests the Chinese Ministry of State Security. We know from their own open source and our own information that laser weapons, rail guns, UUVs, and stealth technology are fields resident on board Sea Base that are of interest to the Ministry of State Security. Ergo, they are of interest to our suspect.”
It always gave him professional pleasure when he saw a light go off in a young agent’s head. She would never forget that tidbit because it was a logic trail she would use up her ladder.
She glanced around the deck. “You think maybe he’s over at the rail guns or the laser weapon?” She pointed at the remaining F-22s parked on the apron. “Too many Air Force personnel around the Raptors for him to be there.”
“So, here goes,” Zeichner said, holding up his fist. “Let’s assume he is a foreign agent. Let’s assume he is using this opportunity to gather some intelligence for his bosses. If the assumptions are correct, then we can end this now without having to ask the Air Force to stage-set one of their aircraft.” Gainer and Montague exchanged glances, and then looked back at him. “How?” they asked in unison.
“Well, if he hasn’t already, he will finish his intelligence gathering. We know he carries a camera and binoculars with him everywhere he goes.” He saw Montague open her mouth to ask something. He held his hand up. “We asked, and he said the binoculars allowed him to watch the electronics and antennas on the mainmast without having to climb it every time. The camera was for taking photographs of the systems he was responsible for so that he and the Institute would have photographs of ‘befores’ and ‘afters.’ ”
“Where do you think he is going?” Montague asked. Zeichner had a momentary inclination to send her off on a wild-goose chase to one of the engine rooms of the Fast Sealift Ship, but quickly put his pique back in its mental case.
“It’s not where we think he has gone, but where we know he will have to come back.” He cocked his head and grinned. “His stateroom,” Gainer said.
“Right. When he finishes his expedition, he will return to his stateroom. Most likely, he is using the camera for what it was meant to be used for — taking photographs. He is going to have to be converting whatever he photographed into some sort of data format for transmission. He is going to want to get whatever is on that camera out of that camera. As long as the photographs are in that camera, they are evidence of his treason — if he is in fact a traitor.”
“We should go to his stateroom?” Montague asked. “Won’t that tell him we’re onto him?”