Chapter Twenty-Three - "Someone has to watch your six...flyboy"

AJ Chegwidden's residence; McLean, VA 0700 hrs

AJ looked up grimly at the sky. He was going to be retired in three months, Rabb shouldn't be his concern any more, but damn it, he liked the tall attorney and his wife, even though they'd had a falling out. He had noticed the sparks between Meg and Harm when he first came in as the Judge Advocate General and now that the two of them were official, AJ felt the protective father to his young protégés. And he'd be damned if that mealy-mouthed little weasel of a traitor make life hell for the two. This old SEAL had one last mission on his plate before he'd consider himself completely retired and that was to bring Koloshenko to his knees, before he put a bullet in that bastard's head. He had notified the CNO that he was taking a leave of absence for about a month; he had figured it would take that long to track down Koloshenko and deal with him.

He looked over his M9 Beretta sidearm, checked the slide to make sure that the chamber was clear and then snapped a fully loaded magazine into it, and set the M9's safety. Putting the safetied Beretta into his hip concealment holster, he got into his Suburban and set off. How he had come to the conclusion of where to point the Suburban for was simple deduction. Gibbs had mentioned that Koloshenko was going after everyone close to Rabb which meant that based on Brovo being the first target, he was going around all the early people he had worked with in JAG, which meant at some point, AJ would be in the line of fire and AJ was damned if he was going to sit and wait and being a sitting target for Koloshenko to take out. If he got to one of the potential targets first, then he would be able to do something about it.

Turning on the ignition, he set the Suburban down the road, towards Washington State. It was going to be a long drive to Kansas City, Missouri, his first stop in the trip. From there, he'd rest for the evening and then set off on his next leg.

Best Western Elko Inn, Elko, NV. 1000hrs (5 hrs after Chegwidden's departure from McLean)

There was a slight chill in the air as the sun peeked over the horizon. Mikhail Koloshenko pulled the curtain back slightly to take in the vista from the third floor window of the hotel. He was cautious, but he needed to get a lay of the land before making a move. Breakfast would be first on his agenda, he'd go out as little as possible before checkout this morning – the late arrival and check-in had enabled him to slip in without the residents of this small town taking notice. He'd finally decided on a hotel breakfast with room-service – the customary American staple he had grown used to over the years, bacon, eggs and sausages with three slices of toast.

Most intelligence agents when confronted by the idea of being discovered by the intelligence agencies of the United States would think of fleeing to the safety and security of the Motherland. However, Mikhail had been indoctrinated in the art of killing. Instead of fleeing, he intended to make the Americans suffer as much as possible. However, he was not some indiscriminate beast – those whom he intended to make pay were those whom he felt had wronged him in some way. 'Allison may be a stretch, but the bitch had stepped on his turf when she had come in and replaced him' Koloshenko thought while reapplying his moustache from the night previous 'Not to mention, the bitch had an ego a mile wide trampling over anyone in her way. Rabb would be indebted to him to get her out of the way'. This way, the mustache would be the same as when he had originally checked in, a brief trim and his mustache was neat and presentable.

A slight affected Danish accent on the phone and an order of American bacon, eggs and sausages with three slices of toast and he was assured by the hotel staff that a breakfast would be sent up to him in fifteen minutes. He relaxed slightly, not being inclined to do anything that would give away his purpose.

RLSO NW BROFF Bangor, Naval Base Kitsap, Silverdale, WA

Commander Caitlin Pike sighed as she walked towards the RLSO NW Headquarters building after parking her car. After the trial that she had been through with the case between Hollenbeck and herself, which had blown up into a case of sexual misconduct, unfortunately, that case had left a major black mark against her file and her career had stagnated. She was facing an up and out if she wasn't selected for Captain. She was in the zone for promotion in 2006 but the ugliness of the case was a career-killer – after all, Hollenbeck was an admiral and the case had been one of her word against his. So here she was stuck out here in the boonies on a base that catered to nuclear missiles and stuck in a region legal services office awaiting her time in uniform to end.

The Region Legal Services Office commander was a O-6 by the name of Captain Rachel Bellamy who had over-looked Kate Pike's service record and assigned her cases that would be noticed, but the stench of the sexual misconduct case against Kate Pike still left its mark. Opening the main door to the building, Kate nodded a good morning to the Marine guard at the door and strode towards the elevator.

It was a bare thirty seconds later that the elevator came to a stop on the second level of the building. Most buildings were kept to a minimum two levels at Naval Base Kitsap, the lower profile the building the less likely it would be picked up as a base of significance to Russian spy satellites. Of course, the fact that the Russians knew exactly where the naval base was, was public knowledge. They had even said so during the last SALT talks and unless they were idiots, knew exactly what was going on in terms of activities at that base. It was certain that the base was targeted by at least five different Russian nuclear missiles of varying mega tonnage, so it was laughable that any of the buildings had such ludicrous physical footprints foisted upon them. All it did was make it more difficult for JAG to get in any more lawyers. Their building footprint was crammed to the maximum and there were no other places for the lawyers to put their offices, so hence the RLSO in the Pacific Northwest was relegated to four different offices which made coordinating any cases an exercise in roulette to see who was assigned them.

McDonald's, 432 North Virginia Street, Reno, NV, 1440 hrs

The non-descript silver Corolla parked in the parking lot of the Reno McDonald's on Virginia Street elicited no reaction from the general public other than a few disinterested cursory glances. Koloshenko sat in the car eating a McDouble along with a large order of fries. He knew that diet would eventually accumulate enough cholesterol in his body to give him a myocardial infarction. He snorted caustically. If he lived that long, that is. The best place to scout from was a non-descript location and no discernable address. He would be able to watch the area, but that meant that he would have to change vehicles and disguises on a regular basis and that just wasn't feasible. Fallon was situated on a desert landscape; there was nothing out there but sagebrush and rattlesnakes. If one got too close to the gate, the chance of being identified would go up. And sitting there in a vehicle near the gate would not be feasible; too easy to be hailed and identified. Getting on-base would be next to impossible as he would be quickly identified unless he had a legitimate reason for being there. But he would go sit near the gate at 1535 hrs in his car for the time being and see if he got lucky this time, a mechanical malfunction perhaps would give him the excuse. Sticking a small wad of gum in the hose of the EGR valve, he caused the airflow to the valve to be obstructed to the point where the engine had a tendency to stall. And if it served perfectly, he'd be able to clear it and get the car to start again when he managed to locate Krennick. At least he would be able to determine if and when the base personnel would be leaving the base. Opportunity only struck once and he was determined to take advantage of that.

JAG Detachment Office; NAS Fallon, NV 1730 hrs

Captain Allison Krennick knew that she had grocery shopping to do that night. After all, living off-base enabled her to be able to have accommodations that suited her rather than living in the clap-trap base housing that was allotted to singles on base. After all she had realized just how extensive a network of problems that extended from the investigation that she was on. Thus she was there for an extended period of time gaining evidence to prosecute the corruption that stemmed from the accident at Pax River. It appeared to be systemic within the Navy. After all on a Navy attorney's salary, she was able to afford something decent and more to her tastes. After her purchase of a two floor home in on Bottom Road, which was along the lines of a decent home for the amount of money, she had furnished it with solid oak furniture. After all, Allison liked the finer things in life, but she wasn't willing to pay a large sum of money for a home that was punished by the beating sun in the desert. But the furnishings inside it would be following her from home to home in the future and frankly, Allison liked the fact that she could finally make this home livable. Looking over at the clock, the captain looked over at her briefcase and headed out the door.

Heading for her vehicle, she placed her briefcase in the car, made a left turn onto Churchill Drive and headed out the gate. Noticing a stalled car with two guards questioning the driver, she paused, pulling over to the side, putting the car in park and getting out, walking over to the guards who were in the process of interrogating the handcuffed driver who looked upset.

"What's going on? She asked the marine corporal.

"Well, we were questioning this driver who seemed to be suspicious, ma'am. He was looking under the hood of his car, and after 9/11, ma'am, you can't be too careful. So we were questioning him as to what he was doing?"

"In handcuffs? Without a legitimate reason? What's your name?" Allison turned to the driver.

"My name?" the driver said in a Northern European accent, "It is Maxim Petersen. I am visiting from Norway and I somehow got lost, then my car, it broke down here on this road while I was trying to find an auto repair shop."

"A garage?" Allison asked.

"Yes…if that is how you Americans refer to it." Maxim Petersen replied, he knew the Marine Corporal was suspicious and he didn't want to do anything to trigger an arrest.

Allison took pity on him and said. "Here's my cell phone, the corporal will give you a tow-truck number and you can get your vehicle towed to the garage."

"Why thank you. I am deeply indebted to you." Allison nodded to Maxim Petersen as he thanked her profusely.

"Somehow…you look very familiar. Like I've seen you somewhere…" Allison's eyes narrowed, her eyes scanning Petersen's features.

"Oh, I've been mistaken for several people before. Some actor, perhaps…my friends back in my country assume that I am Mikael Albertssen, he's a very popular actor in my country right now." Petersen smiled. "But I assure you, I was born in Kviknedolsbekken near Lake Kviknedolsstjonna. I am Norwegian…"

Krennick seemed reassured as Petersen turned to use her phone to contact a garage to send a tow truck. "Perhaps, I'll follow you to the garage to make sure that you arrive there safely." She indicated after Maxim had returned her phone to her.

"That would be so kind." Maxim Petersen stated. "Thank you...Kommandor." At her confused look he continued. "I'm sorry, I'm familiar with the ranks in the Norwegian Navy. You are Navy, I presume?" At Allison's affirmative nod, he continued. "Kommandor would be Captain. I presume that would be your rank in the United States Navy?"

"Yes." Allison replied. This Maxim Petersen was very gregarious and friendly and Allison found herself letting down her guard. The truck had arrived and was in the process of hooking itself to the vehicle.

Maxim Petersen got into the tow-truck and rode with the tow-truck operator to the garage as Allison followed with her vehicle.

She had gotten out of the car and headed into the office where the garage mechanic was explaining to Petersen that his vehicle would require a diagnostic to find out exactly what the problem was. Petersen was nodding his head in affirmative to the diagnostic. When Allison stepped into the garage's office, Petersen shook his head sadly and said. "Well…it appears that my car has to be diagnosed to be fixed. And it appears that I am unable to drive it until such time as it is fixed."

"We do have a garage courtesy car that you can use until such time as it is fixed." The garage mechanic indicated.

"That would be fine…" he replied noting the time. Krennick was probably needing to go home and he needed to follow her discreetly at a distance enough to make certain that he was able to follow her and not be discovered. Signing the paperwork for the car and being handed the keys, he removed the contents of the back trunk of the car. Unbeknownst to the garage owner, he would not be returning for the car. He had a contact here that he needed to get a hold of. But first of all he had to ascertain Krennick's home.

Krennick took her leave when she knew that he was definitely assured of a ride. What she didn't notice was that he quickly got into his own courtesy car and tailed her about a block behind. When she pulled into her home driveway, he had parked about two houses away noting her address for future reference, and then when she was in her house, he had driven away.

Best Western Seville Plaza Hotel, Kansas City, MO 2300 hrs

AJ checked into the Seville Plaza Hotel; exhausted, his face drawn, he thanked the counter concierge and headed for the elevator. Prior to checking in, he made sure that his vehicle and gun-locker in said vehicle was secure. It was going to be an early turn-in for the night to be able to get enough rest to make the next leg of his trip from Kansas City to Salt Lake City. He could only hope that he'd get there in enough time to prevent Koloshenko from going after the next person on his list. He knew that the JAG office being unoccupied was probably going to be a problem, but he didn't care any more. That would be the next JAG's problem of resetting the office to his own liking.

Animal had been right, when he had chewed AJ a good one after Harm had outright refused to come back to JAG. He had lost touch of his command; his attitude was one where he didn't care what his people did, just so long as it didn't affect his command. Evidently ever since the dealing with Meredith's kid, he had been keener on preserving his career than caring for his subordinates and that was going to change. At one time in his career, he'd cared enough about his subordinates to put his life on the line for them but somehow, somewhere along the line it had changed. Now he had the chance to change it back before he retired.

Sixteen hours of driving gave AJ a lot of time to reflect and he had reflected and taken stock of his actions, especially with regards to the debacle in Paraguay. Why he had protected Mac over Harm, he didn't know. Mac had said something to Harm that had utterly destroyed him, then he had compounded it with that statement of "go wrestle alligators." AJ shook his head as he slipped the access card into the entry slot of his room. He had a lot to atone for, he thought to himself. Rabb had been the best attorney in his command and the most faithful and AJ had thrown his attorney under the bus, especially during the Singer murder trial and, subsequently, Paraguay.

AJ figured Kate Pike was next on Koloshenko's hit-list and he would be damned if he would throw Kate under the bus.

Meg and Harm's Apartment, Reston, VA 0930 hrs

Harm grumbled as he pulled his wife closer to him. "I can't believe we're stuck here until god knows when."

A knock on the door elicited a pulled weapon from the hip holster of Tony DiNozzo. DiNozzo tracked the muzzle of his Sig P226 covering the door as Harm opened it. Mac stood there, her eyes wide as she noted DiNozzo's gun pointed directly at her.

"Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie…" DiNozzo muttered. "You didn't realize that you could have been followed?"

"Harm…" she said ignoring DiNozzo. "I just got this message on my phone." She hit play on the message on her phone, the volume turned up.

"Mac, I don't know where I went wrong in terms of how to command my subordinates and Harm paid the price for it. I just want to let you know that I think I know who Koloshenko's next target is. I'm going out there to protect her, like I should have protected you and Harm." AJ's voice cut through the silence. "I know what I should have done and what I have to do now." There was a click and a dial-tone.

"Rabb, who the hell is Koloshenko's next target?" DiNozzo growled.

Harm's visage went pale white. "My partner…" he said softly. "My first partner…at JAG…"

Meg whispered softly. "Kate…"

Keno Motel, Reno, NV 0930hrs (next morning).

"Amerikanskiy ili Rossii marka…" came the interrogative from Grigori Markov, Koloshenko's contact when Koloshenko asked for a .38 calibre handgun. After Koloshenko had dumped the courtesy car back at the garage after hours, he had rented a Nissan Altima from another car rental agency. Grigori Markov or as he was known to his American customers, Greg Marks, was a gun dealer in the Reno area. He was under deep cover as a Russian intelligence agent, but he was not an intelligence gatherer, but more a supplier to those who operated as agents in the United States.

Koloshenko knew that the longer he stayed here, the more likely it would be to be discovered. The quicker he got this job done, the quicker he could get to the next one. A quick wig and removal of a mustache and the addition of some glasses enabled him to step out and meet Greg Marks' deliveryman who put a package in his hands as well a few untraceable Soviet grade .38 rounds. He noted that they were Nagant 7.62x38mmR. Tonight Krennick would die, he thought as he retraced his steps back to the Keno Motel.

NAS Pax River – RADM Nakamura's office

"What is it?" Animal barked into the phone.

"Animal, Kate's in trouble?"

"What?" Animal replied. "Who's Kate?"

"My former partner - the first partner whom I teamed up with when I joined JAG." Harm replied, his voice shaking. "Admiral Chegwidden has gone after her to protect her because he thinks that she will be Koloshenko's next target."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me, Rabb." Animal growled. "So, what are we supposed to do about it?"

"Do you think we might be able to get the USAF to set up a C-17 flight to…"

"…to Whidbey Island?" Animal asked with some vehemence. "You know just what General Crandall is going to say when I ask that, don't you? This is some short notice, you're giving me…"

"There's no way that I can get an airline flight to Bellingham International that'll allow me to take a M9 on board." Harm reiterated.

"Lemme guess…you need it for today…" Animal snapped out. Harm's silence was all the affirmative that Animal needed. "OK…let me ask Crandall, but you're going to owe me big for this…"

Joint Base Andrews, Prince George's County, MD

"ARE YOU KIDDIN' ME?!" Brigadier General Maralyn Crandall said, her Virginia drawl almost strident; her voice about one octave above normal… "sir?" That last was almost an afterthought. "I thought I heard you incorrectly. You require a C-17 transport from Pax River to Whidbey Island in six hours?!" She sighed "You do know what kind of headaches this is going to do to our avgas budget for the next two months. I'll see if I have anything going out that requires an expedite to Whidbey Island…sir, I'll be in contact with you shortly"

"Thank you kindly, General." Animal said.

"I'm sure…Admiral…" General Crandall's tone was dry. "Next time, sir… Would you kindly give this lady some advance notice…preferably about two weeks, sir."

"I'll keep that in mind, General…" Animal grinned as he signed off. BGEN Crandall definitely could get worked up.

Meg and Harm's Apartment, Reston, VA 1045 hrs

"Are you nuts?" Tony growled. "You want to go after Koloshenko because your wife's CO has flipped his lid and gone all the way out to Washington State to try to head Koloshenko off?"

"If he goes after him alone, he's dead." Harm gritted. "So if you want to play protection agent, you're either going to have to come with me, or end up running afoul of Gibbs."

"What about Meg and Mac?" Mac hadn't left since dropping that bombshell. It seemed that the two women were getting along better. In fact it seemed as though the Marine Lieutenant Colonel was more subdued and apologetic. Harm wondered just what was going through the Marine's mind.

The two of them said in unison. "You're not going anywhere without us."

"It's dangerous." Harm reiterated…as he got his M9 out and started putting rounds into extra magazines.

"I don't care…" Meg said as she went to the bedroom to retrieve her own.

"Someone has to watch your six…flyboy…and I don't want to get my ass chewed out if your ass comes back with holes in it." Mac retorted. "Especially by your wife."

Harm looked over at DiNozzo. "I think they were better off when they were chewing each other out." He muttered and got smacked in the back of the head by Mac. If his wife and Mac became friends, the world would end.

NAS Pax River – RADM Nakamura's office 1100 hrs

"Mitch, I gotta take a couple days off." Animal said. "Personal."

"Not a problem, Admiral, but I need to know, is this because of what's going on with the Soviet guy that's giving Rabb problems?"

"Yeah… And we've got a lead on where he might strike next. I'm going to go over to pick up my wife. Rabb, his family and anyone targeted by this psycho needs to stay close. We're going to go take the war to his turf." Animal replied.

"OK…Animal. Stay safe." VADM Hadfield said. "I don't need to be having to train a new XO."

Burger King, Kearney, NE 1230 hrs

AJ wasn't in favor of fast food at the best of times, but when one was on the move quickly, he figured that the drive thru was the best way to keep fed. He'd left a message with his Chief of Staff. Goodness knows what she would do with it, but he figured that it would be best if he let her know what he was doing. As a former SEAL, AJ knew that he was going into this alone, not the best situation to be in, but it was either that or leave Kate Pike to the not-so-tender mercies of Koloshenko. At least though since he left the message, they'd know what he was up to and if anything happened to him, they'd know.

As he got back on the I-80 again heading westbound, he wracked his head figuring out the best way to track that miserable little weasel, Koloshenko.

As soon as Koloshenko had removed his next target, he'd be on to the next one. And all that AJ wanted to do was get on the last leg of the trip before Koloshenko managed to get to Kate Pike. It would be 1145 before AJ managed to pull into Salt Lake City, Utah and found a hotel room.

NAS Pax River, 1450 hrs

Animal was on the field waiting for the C-17 to turn onto final as Harm and the rest of them showed up. Nodding at Mac and the rest of the group, he said "Well, I got us a C-17 bound for Whidbey, but you're going to be owing me into the next decade, Rabb." Animal grumbled.

"Thanks, sir." Harm replied to his superior officer.

"Now, you know what we're doing…" Animal said to the rest of the group. "We're bringing the fight to Koloshenko as a group. We stick together, we stay armed and we stay vigilant. This guy is dangerous. He wants us all dead. And that means we fight better as a group than we do individually. So nobody goes haring off stupid individual escapades. That means YOU…Rabb." Animal growled ominously. "You try going after Koloshenko by yourself, like you did with Commander Holbarth, I'm going to skin you alive." He tried his best to put a menacing expression on his face. And Harm had to admit, it was scary. "Grab your gear and get on board…" he paused. "In eight hours and thirty minutes we'll be debarking at NAS Whidbey Island."

NAS Whidbey Island, 2330hrs.

Harm looked at the rainy weather outside as they debarked from the C-17 onto Whidbey Island Field. It was a little bit chilly and his raincoat and uniform judging from the amount of rain coming down was going to get soaked before he got to the comfort of the hangar.

"Tough beans…" Animal grumbled. "Grab your gear and let's get off this flying cargo hauler. Watch for taxiing Prowlers, don't want to get sucked into those jet engine intakes. Make you into hamburger."

The group shrugged and headed into the rainy night towards the invitingly dry hangar.

4176 Bottom Rd, Fallon, NV; 2330 hrs

The one thing that bothered Allison about the place that she was living in was the fact that there were no lights that illuminated the road. It was dark at night. The only illumination came from her windows and from the lights that came from her car. At least she was at home and the doors and windows were locked. It was secure and Allison kept her sidearm downstairs in the locked safe. She had rare cause to feel threatened in any case. Her neighbors had two big dogs which would sound an alarm if anybody were to stray onto her property.

Around 2330 she felt like she wanted to take a shower and headed up to the second floor bathroom which had a soaker tub. Putting warm, almost hot water into the tub, she prepared the tub for her shower, taking a change of sleep clothes and a towel into the bathroom, she shut the door. In fact, the bathroom was so secure and soundproof, she had no idea that a car had turned onto the road, shut off its lights and glided the all the way to stop in front of her house. She did not hear the tinkle of glass being broken in the basement window…and someone gaining entry.

In fact, she didn't notice at all until the knob on the bathroom door turned and she looked over to see someone step into the bathroom. In the second of time that she had…before she could even react to scream, the masked figure had stepped over in one large stride and clubbed her with a rubber mallet hard enough that she lost consciousness immediately and crumpled in the tub. Her head went under water and the masked man applied pressure to her neck and held her under water until she was still. Making sure that she was dead, he cleaned up. Luckily because the mallet was rubber, the contusion didn't break skin and clean up was a snap.

Heading back out, he locked the door and headed out. If anything she would be chalked up to an accidental drowning due to hitting her head. He did not leave the mallet. The only matter was the broken window. But if the crime scene was left long enough…the investigators would probably think it a petty criminal breaking in to steal something of value. He turned the car on and drove away. Most people were asleep by the time he had finished and they would think nothing strange until asked much later by investigators. By then he would be long gone.