For the time being, all Marti could do was listen and obey. She’d come up through the ranks quickly. Being a graduate of the Naval Academy earned her points with the NRC leadership, many of whom were ring knockers — so called because of the Academy ring they wore that banged on tables occasionally. Like all young ensigns, she’d been assigned to a ship immediately after her graduation. And, like all women in the Navy, she was not allowed to serve aboard most warships or any submarine. So she’d been assigned duty on an aircraft carrier as a section leader in a maintenance department. It wasn’t like she knew anything about the maintenance of a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier, but the Navy put officers in positions of leadership regardless, and expected them to learn. That’s just the way it worked.
She’d been young and attractive, and that caused the men on the ship to notice her. Certainly the men in her division had. However, she’d focused on doing her job well and on learning how the equipment in her area of responsibility worked. She’d listened to the Chief Petty Officers in her division and what they had to say about the jobs they were being asked to do. In some cases she’d offered suggestions on how things could be done better, trying hard not to appear to be a micro-manager, but wanting to get involved none-the-less. She’d also avoided overreacting to the occasional off-color jokes the men would make, knowing that sailors were crude and lewd by nature. She knew some of it was hazing and she’d put up with that, but she’d been careful not to let them cross the line. She maintained a professional attitude, which some considered aloof, but eventually won over her department and most of her supervisors with her ability and willingness to learn her job and how the ship worked.
After a year aboard the carrier she’d been selected for the challenging Navy Nuclear Power School in Orlando, Florida, the premiere technical program in the Navy. Getting into it was a feather in her cap. Once there she’d applied herself to her studies. With a failure rate of about sixty percent, just being able to get through the program was noteworthy. After six months in the classroom and another six months in a prototype where she’d learned by doing on an exact replica of a nuclear engineering compartment, she’d qualified as an Engineering Officer Of the Watch, which would allow her to oversee the running of the nuclear plant aboard a ship.
The Navy liked having women in the service, despite some of the rhetoric the brass spouted in the newspapers and in Congress. It was easier to win over the naysayers who controlled their budgets if they could show how diversified the Navy was. So they looked for promising young female ensigns and Lieutenant JGs who could be educated and promoted. It was also easier to keep the women on shore and in school rather than sending them to sea. So after Marti qualified in the Navy’s nuclear program, she was sent back to the Naval Academy to get her MBA, which she hadn’t objected to.
Marti was, in fact, a talented and quick study who realized that her real career path might lie outside the military. So after much soul-searching one night, and because of her newfound familiarity with nuclear power, she’d opted to get out of the Navy and apply for a position in the NRC. She was hired almost immediately because, it too had an affirmative action program and looked for bright young women to hire. As it turned out, her years of military service counted toward time in service with the NRC because both were federal jobs. That translated to better pay, but what it really gave her was seniority, which put her ahead of many of her peers when seeking career-enhancing positions within the government sector.
Because she was single and unattached, she chose to do field work, which she reasoned was her best career path. That’s what led her to put in for one of the two jobs of resident inspector at a nuclear power plant. She was lucky in being assigned to The Headlands, which many considered the flagship plant in the industry. Working there would provide her with visibility — as if she needed any more. But making a name for herself at a prestigious and well-run facility would remove any lingering doubts as to her real qualifications. In a short time, she’d done there what she’d done on the carrier, winning over the plant staff with her knowledge and willingness to roll up her sleeves and get out in the plant. When the senior resident position came open, she’d been an easy choice for the assignment.
Even though she was expecting my call, Marti sounded startled when she picked up. “Hello?” she said.
“Hi, Marti. It’s Nick.” I considered whether to make small talk or get right to the point. I opted for the direct approach. “What have you been able to find out from the FBI or the sheriff?”
With what I’d interpreted as a slight irritation in her tone, she said, “I found out that I’m supposed to cooperate with you. I made a phone call to the deputy director at NSIR in Washington, to see how much I should share with you. I was told you were cleared for any information I have pertaining to this situation. I was told point blank to cooperate with you completely. But then, I suppose you already knew that.”
Good, I thought to myself. She’s thorough. “I knew that if you were any good, you’d check on me and that you needed to hear it from someone other than me.”
“I assume you’ll fill me in completely on what is going on?” she asked frostily. “Quid pro quo?”
“I’ll be happy to tell you whatever I learn — later. Right now, I’m still putting the pieces together. And to do that, I need to know what’s going on with law enforcement.” She could be pissed all she wanted — later. Right now, I needed information, I was tired, and I didn’t feel much like negotiating with her. I knew she wasn’t going to like any of this, but it would be in her best interests all the way around if, for the time being, she would simply cooperate as instructed. I’d like her to see it that way for herself. If she didn’t, I could bring some pressure to bear, though I’d rather avoid that if possible.
“I’ll help you out,” she conceded. “But before this is all over, you’re going to owe me some explanations. I don’t like being kept in the dark.”
“I can assure you, by the time this is all over, you’ll know more than you expect,” I said with a certain amount of finality in my voice.
“Okay. The fibbies are tight-lipped, as you might suspect. I checked with the regional headquarters guys out here on the west coast, in Los Angeles. They’re agitated because national FBI headquarters is taking the lead. So, the west coast guys know what they’ve been told but little else. At least, nothing they’re sharing with me.”
“That’s not altogether unexpected,” I said. “What else ya got?”
“The sheriff is another thing altogether. The FBI apparently read him in. He’s not at all happy about a threat of this magnitude in his backyard. First a murder, and now this. This is a small community and he believes he has local jurisdiction, regardless of what the FBI is telling him. I know the guy from a few public meetings I’ve been involved in,” Marti said. “He isn’t all that supportive of nuclear power, but he was elected, so he needs to go along with his constituency, who, unfortunately for him, are very much in favor of the nuclear power plant. It adds a tremendous amount of money to the tax base in this community. It’s money they wouldn’t otherwise have. But supportive or not, I’m not sure how well equipped he and his staff are to deal with this.”
The same thoughts had crossed my mind when I first met the sheriff at a meet and greet Prichard had for me when I first hired on. “He may look a bit like a hick,” I said, “’and he may not have a lot of experience with this kind of thing, but he’s probably better informed on what’s going on right now than you are. He was involved when the station did its analysis last year as part of the governments effort to evaluate national critical infrastructure activities. So he knows what can happen.”