Chapter 8: The Commander's Confession
Ellison answered his cabin door on the first knock.
He was still dressed.
He hadn't been sleeping either.
He looked at me for a moment, then stepped back and let me in without a word.
His cabin was small and very neat.
A single photograph on the desk — a woman and two children, backyard, summer.
A coffee mug that had gone cold.
A legal pad covered in handwriting, face-down.
He sat on the edge of his bunk.
I stayed standing.
"You know who I am," I said.
"I figured it out three days after you boarded," he said.
"The logistics cover was good.
But you asked the right questions in the wrong order for someone who was actually here about logistics."
"Why didn't you report it to Kane?"
He looked at his hands.
"Because by then I already knew what Kane was."
I waited.
"I've been XO on this vessel for fourteen months," he said.
"The first six, I thought Kane was just hard.
The kind of commanding officer who runs a brutal ship but keeps it functional." He paused.
"Then I started seeing the procurement records.
The supply requests that didn't match the delivery logs.
The Deck Four access patterns." He looked up.
"I asked Kane about it once.
Directly.
In private."
"What did he say?"
"He told me that men who asked questions about things that weren't their concern had a way of ending their careers very suddenly." A pause.
"Then he smiled.
And I understood that the smile was the real answer."
"So you filed with JAG."
He nodded slowly.
"Six weeks ago.
I documented everything I had access to.
Procurement discrepancies.
Access logs.
The Hargrove boarding — I processed those credentials because Kane told me to and I was afraid not to, but I logged everything I did and why." He looked at me steadily.
"I filed it sealed because I didn't know who else on this ship I could trust."
"Voss at NCIS knows about the report."
Something moved across his face.
Relief, maybe.
Or the release of something he'd been holding for a very long time.
"Then it got through," he said quietly.
"It got through." I sat down across from him.
"Commander, in approximately four hours NCIS is going to execute a federal hold on this vessel.
Kane's command authority will be suspended pending investigation.
But between now and then, Kane is planning to move the Deck Four inventory.
And if he reviews the access logs before the hold comes through, he's going to see that you processed Hargrove's credentials and he's going to decide you're a loose end."
Ellison's jaw tightened.
"Where's Doyle?" he asked.
"Safe.
Out of sight."
He nodded.
Then he reached under his bunk and pulled out a second legal pad.
This one had a rubber band around it.
He held it out to me.
"Everything I couldn't fit in the JAG filing," he said.
"Dates, times, names.
The Hargrove boarding in full.
Two conversations with Kane that I wrote down within an hour of them happening." He paused.
"And the name of the receiving party for the Deck Four inventory."
I took the pad.
"How do you know the receiving party?"
"Because six months ago, Kane asked me to countersign a shipping manifest for a private medical contractor in the Philippines.
He told me it was authorized humanitarian surplus.
I countersigned it." His voice was flat.
"I have been living with that decision every day since."
The room was quiet.
"You countersigning that manifest," I said carefully, "is going to come up."
"I know." He met my eyes.
"I'm prepared for that.
Whatever happens to me — the record needs to be complete."
I looked at him for a moment.
Twenty-two years of Doyle watching quietly.
Fourteen months of Ellison documenting in fear.
Reyes throwing a life ring without permission.
Kane had spent two years believing he was the most dangerous person on this ship.
He had been wrong about that from the beginning.
I tucked the legal pad under my arm.
"Stay in your cabin," I said.
"Lock the door.
Don't respond to any order from Kane directly.
If he contacts you, you're ill.
Ship's medical will back that up — I'll make sure of it."
Ellison nodded.
I moved toward the door.
"Cole," he said.
I stopped.
"The signalman on the flight deck yesterday.
The kid who collapsed." He paused.
"Is he all right?"
"He's in medical.
He's going to be fine."
Ellison looked at the photograph on his desk.
"Good," he said quietly.
"That's good."
I left him there with his cold coffee and his locked door and walked back into the corridor.
Three hours and forty minutes until the federal hold.
May you like
Somewhere above me, Kane was awake.
And now I had everything.
