A Disturbance in the Force

(Source)

Ephraim Johansen glanced out the window of his car as his driver went by the Navy Yard. His gut told him that somehow the Navy was involved in what was happening. That damn Jack Morgan was always dropping hints that he had someone inside the Pentagon, Navy just like Morgan had been, but nothing concrete.

"Bill, swing by the EEOB."

"Yes Sir. West Executive Avenue side?"

"That'll work."

When they pulled up to the entrance he saw his buddy waiting for him.

"Bill, go get some lunch or something." Looking at his watch, he continued, "Be back in an hour."

"Yes Sir."

After his car drove off, his buddy walked down to the street to meet Johansen. "Let's go for a walk, Ephraim, it's a nice day out."

Johansen looked askance at his friend, he wanted to talk where the chance of being picked up by a bug was minimal. He looked around, no suspicious looking vans, no obvious parabolic microphones in evidence, as if he'd spot one anyway, but this was probably as safe as things were going to get.

"Well, spill it Mike, I can tell something is eating you up."

Mike Yamaguchi looked around, as they walked, he lit a cigarette.

"Jesus, Mikey, those things are going to kill you."

"Yeah, if I live that long. You got a mole in your outfit."

"What?"

"I overheard a conversation this morning outside one of the NSC's offices, seems they heard that the ambush of those Feebs¹ was an inside job."

"Bullshit," was Johansen's first response, but he also felt his heart leap into his throat.

"That's what I thought, but this guy is retired Navy, has contacts in the E-Ring, at the Navy Yard, Norfolk, the guy is buddies with a dozen heavy hitters in the Navy."

"Why would he be talking about it in the EEOB? Has he got a death wish or something?"

"All I know was that I saw these two guys going into a SCIF², and the guy I mentioned said, and I quote, 'Inside job Mac, smells like SpecOps ...,' then the door closed and that was that."

"Idle gossip, some guy trying to impress another guy, you know how it is in DC. 'Hey look, my dick is this big.' 'Oh yeah, well mine's bigger.', they're probably both up for promotion. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Damn it, Eph, I'm paid to worry about shit."

Johansen grimaced, he hated being called 'Eph,' but he shook it off. He saw a bench, which he made a beeline for. Yamaguchi followed.

"Look Mike, ya done good. This is what I want from you, rumors, innuendos, facts, it's all information, my job is to separate the wheat from the chaff. What's this guy's name anyway?"

"Harold Peschanski, he got out of the Navy last year, retired as an O-6. Like I said, he knows a lot of people."

"Okay, I'll have my people run the name. Thanks, now I need to get back, get this ball rolling. I have some other shit on my plate now too, gonna be a long day."

"You headed back out to McLean?" Yamaguchi asked.

"Nope, I have a meeting with the FBI at 2 o'clock. Hey, there's my car, I gotta run, stay in touch Mikey."

As Johansen got into his car, Yamaguchi shook his head. "I've told the bastard that I don't like being called 'Mikey.' But he does it anyway. Man's an asshole of the highest order."

Chapman sighed as she looked around, another meeting in a restaurant, Murphy's Grand Irish Pub in Alexandria. If she wasn't careful she was going to get fat. She ordered an appetizer, the Jameson baked oysters looked good, and she said the heck with it, she ordered a Guinness as well. "For strength," she said to herself.

She recognized the guy when he came in, still in the Navy she'd heard. He'd commanded the ship she had been on briefly in the Gulf, USS McFaul (DDG 74). She'd been with the Ike's Air Wing at the time. McFaul had a helo deck, but she had no organic aircraft assigned. No hangar. But it was where she'd met Jack Morgan, which had been fun.

She stood up, "Captain Choe, thought I heard you got picked up for Rear Admiral, good to see you, Sir. It's been  a while."

Choe grasped her hand and shook it, "Beth Chapman, I was sorry to hear of your accident. You were a shoe-in for squadron command from what I understood. Doing good things now from what I understand?"

The two sat, Choe ordered an appetizer, the same thing Chapman went with, he also ordered a Guinness.

"I'll bet you're wondering why I wanted to see you." Choe began.

"As a matter of fact, yeah, this is kind of out of the blue, Sir."

"Call me Alex. The Navy needs you, Beth."

She rolled her eyes at that, which made Choe laugh out loud.

Morgan didn't like this, Johansen seemed to be running all over DC meeting with people and not keeping him in the loop. And that made him nervous. Was Johansen on the side of the angels or was he throwing his lot in with the establishment?

He'd been following Johansen around most of the day, dumb shit thought he was an operator, heck the dumbest ensign Morgan ever worked with would have found it easy to trail the guy.

I wonder what he and that snake Yamaguchi talked about, no matter, things were moving faster now.

As soon as he got home, he wandered down to the pool area and pulled out his cell phone. After one ring on the other end, it picked up.

"Rossi."

"Hey Senior Chief, you still f**king goats or do you have a real job now?"

After he stopped laughing, Alphonse Rossi, MMCS , U.S. Navy (retired), said, "What do you want, Jack? Miss me?"

"You remember all the fun we had in VBSS?"

"Heh, I do. Navy thinks we hate each other."

"You still down in Virginia Beach, Al?"

"Sure am, come on down."

"I'll be there tomorrow morning. Have your go bag packed."

"Roger that, Skipper. See you in the oh-dark-thirty."

Morgan walked back to his apartment, said hello to Mrs. Johnson on the way and asked if she could watch his cat for a few days.

"Sure thing honey, when you leavin'?"

"Around midnight, I'll feed her before I leave. She should be good until lunchtime."

"Alright, goin' fishin' again?"

"Yes, ma'am with an old Navy buddy."

"Have fun, sugar."

"Thanks, Mrs. Johnson, I really appreciate it."

A little after midnight, Morgan rolled out in his FJ Cruiser, he needed the big wheels for this. No doubt Rossi would give him shit for owning a Japanese vehicle. Senior Chief thought Ford was the only good vehicle on the planet.

He liked Rossi, but the man was something of an asshole.

Which is perhaps why the two got along so well.

¹ Insulting term for an FBI agent.

² Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility, an enclosed area within a building that is used to process sensitive compartmented information types of classified information.