company?”
Davis once more put his hand to his temple and rubbed. “No. And that’s my dilemma. I’m going to have to do that. According to Bureau protocol I will have to tell my superiors of my connection with M/X Tech. And I have to do that as soon as I get back to the office. But…”
There was a long pause. It was long enough to bring about a tension that Larson could hardly stand. He so much wanted to say, but, what? But he didn’t. He just sat quietly and patiently waited for Davis to reveal more.
That revelation was forthcoming when Davis said, “But I…” He struggled with his words. “I guess I feel torn. I mean, here I am an agent for the FBI and wanting to be loyal to my oath to the Bureau—which I will do. On the other hand, I’m also thinking of my family. My uncle, of course. And then there’s my father.”
At that moment, the long-legged waitress interrupted the flow of conversation by bringing out two large glasses filled with iced tea. “Here you go, guys. Sorry for the wait. We’re really busy today.” After setting the glasses on the table, she asked, “So, anything else I can getcha?” Both men shook their heads, with Davis saying, “No, thanks.”
After the waitress turned away Davis went on to give Larson more information, details that deepened Larson’s understanding of the situation that Davis had labeled ‘a dilemma.’
“You see, Joe, my father sits on the House Appropriations Committee. More specifically, he’s a member of the Appropriations Committee’s subcommittee on Defense. That’s the committee that allocates money for the various branches of the military, including the Navy.”
Larson was familiar with the job of this committee, a fact that he revealed when he nodded his head and said, “Yeah, I know that it is one of the most powerful and influential committees in Congress.”
“Sure is,” Davis said with a strong voice. “That committee holds the purse strings for all military spending. All the major expenditures have to go through them. So, the members are quite important in the startup of any new military project. If they don’t vote approval for funding, the project dies.”
Nodding his head, Larson said, “But what does that have to do with this espionage case?”
“If my father hears that there has been any compromise of this missile-guidance system, he would be loath to vote for the next round of expenditures. By that I mean the money needed to manufacture the system. And probably so would the other members.”
Larson was now starting to get the picture; to understand more the personal implications that Davis was now being challenged by.
Davis sat back a little and said, “Let me back up a moment. First, my uncle is no longer an active partner of M/X Technologies. He retired from any day-to-day involvement with the company about five years ago. He does, however, still have a major financial interest. And he’s still on the board. Now, from what I know, when my uncle stepped down from his position as president, the company was doing quite well financially. In fact, over the last twenty years—that’s during the time my uncle was president—the company grew by leaps and bounds. When he left M/X was worth tens of millions of dollars. However, since that time there were some pretty big projects that they had put a lot of time and money into that didn’t pan out. So, the present project, this new missile-guidance system, is one that they are very much counting on. If their system isn’t produced, for whatever reason, that means a substantial loss in revenue.” Davis looked out at the passing cars as he said, “That could be a disaster for my uncle’s company.”
After that was said there was silence as both men looked at each other. The gravity of the situation was now beginning to weigh heavily on both agents. It was only moments later that, almost simultaneously, they picked up the glasses in front of them. Each took a long drink of the contents. It was Larson who finally broke the silence after setting his glass down. “So, Tom, why are you telling me this?”
“I guess because I don’t know who else to talk to. I felt that you would be someone I could trust and who would appreciate the scope of this thing. I think you would best understand the dilemma I’m in.”
Larson’s forehead showed some wrinkles as he thought about the situation. “I guess I am okay with you talking to me. It’s a little in the gray area, but not out-of-bounds since I am with NCIS and will hear about this at some point. Probably sooner than later.” Larson then looked at his friend and said, with all seriousness, “But you need to let me know what you’re going to do now. I have to know that.”
Davis sighed. “Well, obviously I need to let my supervisor know the situation. I mean, all that I have told you I need to tell the FBI.”
“What do you think they will do?”
“You mean with me?”
Larson nodded.
“Well, because there’s a conflict of interest, I’ll be taken off the case. And, of course, I won’t be able to talk with anyone about it. Not with my uncle. Not even with my father.” Davis then looked more firmly at Larson and said, “But you... I can talk with you since you are part of NCIS.” Larson noticed that, at this point, Davis’ fingers were fidgeting. “I’m thinking and hoping that you will be part of the investigation. You’re still on the counter-intelligence/counter-terrorism team, aren’t you?”
“That’s my job,” Larson said with a nod.
“Knowing that, I guess I just wanted you to know what’s going on. A heads up so to speak.”
At that moment a young lady’s voice could be heard. “How’s the tea, guys?”
Larson looked up at the waitress. “It’s fine, thanks.”
“Can I get ya anything else? A refill?”
“No,” said Davis. “Nothing else.”
With that the waitress put the check on the table and wished them both a good day.
After watching the waitress’s backside walk away, Larson said, “Anything else I need to know?”
“No, I think that covers it.” Davis looked at his watch. “Now, I’ve got to get back to the office.”
Larson replied with, “Yeah, me, too. Given what you’ve told me, I’m sure Gosner will have some more work lined up for me.” With that he stood up, dropped some money on the table, then put his hand out to his friend. “Tom, thanks for the information. I’m not sure how things will proceed but, if I can, I’ll keep you in the loop from the NCIS side of it.” He then emphasized that statement by repeating, “If I can.”
Davis reciprocated by standing and shaking the NCIS agent’s hand. “Thanks, Joe. Thanks for the tea. And for listening.”
The fact that Davis held the handshake longer than normal showed Larson that Davis was, in fact, very appreciative. And very worried.
LARSON WAS WALKING BACK TO HIS CAR when he heard his cell phone ring. The caller ID identified Gosner as the person calling. “What’s up?”
Gosner was direct and to the point. “Wherever you are I need you back here ASAP.”
There’s that word again, thought Larson. “Sure. Just finished lunch,” he lied. “Shouldn’t be more than 20 minutes.”
“Make sure you come directly to Keeler’s office,” Gosner commanded. Larson was going to respond but, suddenly, there was no more Gosner. Just the buzz of a dead line. Something was up at headquarters. And, thanks to his friend, Davis, Larson thought he already knew what it was.
TUESDAY EVENING CAME NONE TOO SOON FOR NICK. After a long day of mowing lawns, Nick was finally in his element: volleyball. Playing volleyball, coaching volleyball, just touching a volleyball was, like music is to the ears, an amazing experience that brought comfort and healing to Nick’s sometimes weary, sometimes distraught soul.
It