Chapter 9: Deck Four
I wasn't supposed to go near Deck Four.
Voss had said it clearly.
Stay away until the hold comes through.
But at 0411, the ship's internal camera feed — which Doyle had quietly patched to a maintenance tablet two weeks earlier — showed Kane and Hargrove moving through the Level Three corridor toward the Deck Four access hatch.
Two enlisted men followed them with hand trucks.
They weren't waiting for tonight.
They were moving now.
I found Doyle in the auxiliary electrical room where I'd told him to stay.
I showed him the tablet screen.
He looked at it for three seconds.
"If they clear that inventory before 0600," he said, "the chain of physical evidence breaks."
"I know."
"Voss needs the physical inventory to match the procurement records.
Without the goods on the ship, Kane's lawyers argue the documents are fabricated."
"I know, Doyle."
He looked at me.
"So what do we do?"
I thought about Voss's voice.
*Stay away from Kane until the hold comes through.*
Then I thought about the signalman's cracked lips.
The collapsed kid on the flight deck.
Three casualties in the medical log before noon.
A sealed deck running climate control for stolen surgical supplies while sailors went without water forty feet above it.
"We slow them down," I said.
Doyle stood up.
We moved.
The Level Three corridor was empty when we reached it.
The access hatch to Deck Four was standing open for the first time since I'd boarded.
Yellow light came up from below.
I could hear the climate system — a low, steady hum, colder than the rest of the ship.
I went down first.
The storage space was larger than I'd expected.
Metal shelving ran the full length of both walls.
Sealed crates marked with medical supply codes.
Dozens of them.
More than the procurement falsifications had suggested — which meant the diversion had been running longer than fourteen months, or at a higher volume, or both.
Kane was at the far end with Hargrove.
He heard me on the ladder.
He turned around.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Kane said, "I told you to go home."
"You told me I had nothing," I said.
"That's different."
Hargrove's hand moved toward his jacket.
Doyle came down the ladder behind me.
Hargrove's hand stopped.
Kane looked at Doyle.
Something shifted in his face — not fear, not yet, but the first recognition that the geometry of this situation was not what he had calculated.
"Master Chief," Kane said slowly.
"You want to think very carefully about what you're doing."
"I have been thinking carefully," Doyle said.
"For fourteen months."
Kane's eyes moved back to me.
"You have no authority on this deck."
"No," I said.
"But NCIS does.
And in approximately ninety minutes, this vessel is going to receive a federal hold order.
At that point, everything on this deck becomes evidence in a federal investigation.
Moving it before that order arrives constitutes obstruction." I paused.
"So does ordering two enlisted sailors to help you move it."
Kane looked at the two men with the hand trucks.
They were both very still.
"Leave," Kane said to them.
They left.
Quickly.
Hargrove spoke.
His voice was still pleasant.
"Miss Cole, you're an intelligent woman.
You understand that what you think you've found here has a very reasonable administrative explanation.
Supply chain irregularities.
Documentation delays.
Nothing that requires a federal—"
"The receiving manifest for the Philippines shipment has your signature on it," I said.
His mouth closed.
"Not Kane's.
Yours.
Dated eight months ago.
Commander Ellison countersigned under duress and documented the circumstances in a sealed JAG filing six weeks ago." I watched his face.
"You're not an administrative footnote in this investigation, Mr.
Hargrove.
You're the third name."
The hum of the climate system filled the silence.
Kane moved.
Not toward me.
Toward the shelving unit on his left.
His hand went behind a crate and came back with a radio.
"I have two armed MPs on standby," he said.
"One call and this becomes a security incident.
You're both detained pending my report.
By the time NCIS sorts out the paperwork, this inventory is off the ship and Hargrove is on a flight out of Pearl."
He held the radio up.
"Last chance," he said.
"Walk away."
I looked at him.
"Make the call," I said.
His thumb moved toward the transmit button.
The ship's intercom crackled.
Commander Ellison's voice came through — calm, clear, and ship-wide.
"Attention all hands.
This is Commander Ellison, Executive Officer.
Effective immediately, I am invoking Article 1161 and assuming temporary command of the USNS Resolute pending a formal investigation into command conduct.
Colonel Kane's authority is suspended.
All personnel are to hold current positions.
No cargo, equipment, or personnel transfers are authorized until further notice.
That is all."
The radio in Kane's hand was useless.
Hargrove sat down on a crate.
Kane stood very still.
Then he looked at me, and for the first time since I had boarded this vessel, the smile was completely gone.
"You had nothing," he said.
His voice was quiet.
Almost wondering.
"I had Doyle," I said.
"I had Ellison.
I had Reyes." I looked at him steadily.
"You spent two years watching for the people who pushed back loudly.
You never saw the ones who were quietly building the case."
May you like
Kane said nothing.
At 0522, the federal hold order came through on every command terminal on the ship simultaneously.
