“Control.” A two-syllable declaration was delivered in monotone.
“This is tech support.” The voice was wavering; an anxious comeback. For some reason Ryan Henderson expected an immediate explanation for his dilemma.
“Tech support, this is an unscheduled call on an open line. Are you compromised?” The tone was again flat, but direct.
“I don’t know…maybe. The delivery was not made.” His voice rose half an octave.
“Calm yourself, tech support, and explain.” Quiet but commanding, it was clear that Control didn’t have any answers.
“The guy didn’t show. I was there ready to take delivery, but the dude did not come on board.” Taking a breath, he wondered if he should include the other stuff as well.
“Is that all?” Control asked, as if sensing the indecision.
“Heightened security…more than I’ve ever seen for a place like this.” Revealing additional details on an open line made Ryan even more nervous.
“Go on.”
“The place was crawling with Feds and auxiliary security. I don’t know if it had anything to do with me, but they were definitely cops and they weren’t there for the free food.”
“You’re safe. Go back and resume your duties. We won’t initiate contact again until you’re reassigned.”
“Huh? Reassigned?”
“Control out.” That’s just fucking great.
Back on board, standing in his stateroom, he contemplated jumping ship. He believed any minute the Navy cops, NCIS, would come knocking at his door. Evaluating what that meant, he sat down, face in hands, resolved to wait it out. He said I was safe. Reflecting on the shit he was steeped in, he mentally retraced the events leading to the call. He’d waited over an hour that evening to be contacted by a man known only as Mr. Smith, before he walked off the ship.
Certain the meet was a bust, and fretting he was somehow at fault, he had no choice but to report the mission fail status. A civilian computer support technician, Ryan Henderson had been embedded aboard the USS Blue Ridge, the U.S. Navy’s Seventh Fleet command and control vessel, for the past six months. An employee of the government contractor supplying and installing system upgrades for navigation and communication, he served as a technical consultant, trainer, and systems handyman.
A Mr. Fix-it, who through some considerable effort, made himself an indispensable member of the crew. He not only solved problems related to upgrade integration, but lent his considerable computer and network savvy to iron out bugs in unrelated―and often highly classified―system applications. This included occasional assists with issues concerning Seventh Fleet components. In his brief stint, Henderson gained access to all critical system hardware and most of the associated software.
Ryan had a genius-level IQ, maintained a rigorous physical fitness regime, and exhibited a work ethic second to none. Viewed by most as a truly a great guy, he was friendly, helpful, and unassuming. He was also a traitor, bound inexorably to a group that had him by the balls. Like an indentured servant, Ryan did their bidding without question.