Rating: PG-13, for language
Disclaimers: Just random musings---who would claim them? Luckily, the characters were created and developed by DPB and company, so all the background work is done!
Summary: Admiral Chegwidden encounters our favorite spook on his Saturday morning run. (PWP)
Author’s Note: Penned this back in February and just found it on an unlabeled disk. The NTN episode has always fascinated me more for what it didn’t tell us, than what it did. (Although the fencing scene was well worth the wait!) At one point I was wondering if Chegwidden fully appreciated the sacrifice Webb made to provide the Navy with the Angel Shark tape. This was the result.
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1000 ZULU (GMT +5)
CHEGWIDDEN RESIDENCE
MCLEAN, VIRGINIA
Easing carefully out of his bed, AJ Chegwidden stood and stretched his lanky six-three frame. Arms extended towards the high-beamed ceiling, he could feel his vertebrae expand and contract. Satisfied with his long, unencumbered reach, AJ gathered up an old navy-issue tank, shorts and sweats for his morning run. A fastidious man who took meticulous care of his car and house, the 53-year-old Navy SEAL could care less what he wore for his five-mile run; just as long as it was clean.
As he propped his foot on the edge of the bathroom tub to tie his running shoe, he glanced in the mirror to assess himself. It was obvious that a bad hair day was not an issue. Genetics had long since taken care of the problem. Like his father before him, AJ had begun to lose his thick black hair in his early twenties. Considering the close-cut hairstyle the Navy insisted on, the lack of hair was no great loss and certainly did not detract from his rugged demeanor. These days the black razor edges had turned silver and added a distinguished shimmer to his proud head. This morning the dark stubble of his overnight beard made an interesting contrast to the soft silver stubble on his head. Rubbing a hand over his rough jaw, AJ briefly considered a quick shave. Noting that it was Saturday, he dismissed the notion. Hell, he was on his own time and couldn’t be bothered.
Quickly brushing his teeth and strapping on his sports watch, AJ headed for the back deck so he could complete his warm-up stretch. Impatient to begin his run, AJ methodically bent double to stretch his hamstrings then reached for the pull bar he’d installed over the east railing. The chin-ups made his smooth biceps burn and his pectorals bunch as he easily executed fifteen reps. Without pausing, AJ deftly raised the lower half of his body so that the backs of his knees replaced his hands on the bar. Crossing his ankles for leverage, he slowly punched out twenty-five inverted stomach crunches. His bulky thigh muscles stood out in relief each time he unfolded a crunch. He could feel the stretch all the way to his toes. The burn to his abs felt fantastic. Although covered by an Admiral’s uniform throughout the workweek, not an ounce of fat marred AJ’s mature physique. This was more a result of his dedication and enjoyment of a disciplined lifestyle than any vanity. Had he but known it, this distinct lack of vanity and obvious virility drew his fare share of female glances JAG headquarters.
Holding the last crunch, he grabbled hold of the metal bar with his large hands, unhooked his knees, and smoothly eased his body into an upright position. Releasing the bar to reach the deck, he shook out his hands and arms while blowing out a couple of deep, cleansing breaths. Squinting at the exertion and the bright sun just cresting the trees, AJ pulled the threadbare tank from his nylon shorts and lifted it to swipe the light coating of sweat from his face.
Ready now for his run, AJ pulled on his sweats as he descended the deck steps. Pausing briefly to set the timer on his watch, the admiral set off at an easy gait. This was easily his favorite part of the day: no decisions, no interruptions, and no responsibilities. Sure, he enjoyed the sharp intelligence and mental stamina required of his post as the Navy’s Judge Advocate General. Not as demanding and stressful as his early SEAL postings, but it was a satisfying job. Most days he even enjoyed the power he held over his staff officers. After all, he had grudgingly allowed them to become his family over the years. But it was this physical release he craved on a daily basis, stretching his body to its limits, feeling the natural high of endorphins during a strenuous run or gym workout. Gradually increasing his pace, AJ headed down the familiar tree-lined residential streets towards Hickory Hill.
1010 ZULU (GMT +5)
HICKORY HILL ROAD
MCLEAN, VIRGINIA
The runner looked up at the fading stars in the sky, wondering when the sun would finally crest the trees. Breathing in through his nose he could feel the crisp November air nip his lungs before exiting his mouth in a vaporous puff. It had been some time since he had been out on a long-distance run. Preferring the companionship of his horses or the competitive spirit fencing inspired, he had forgotten the satisfying solitude of a long country road.
The long pull on his lungs was not helped by the slight cold he was fighting off, but the physical exertion felt good. Pounding into his second mile, the private road sloped around the family compound he’d just left. Protected by its own security system, the compound was a favorite stomping ground whose doors were always open to him. Yesterday he’d phoned his old friend Joe to see if his family would be in residence this weekend.
He laughed out loud as he recalled Joe’s enthusiastic invitation. He had always been considered “fresh meat” when it came to one of their so-called touch football games. Last time he’d visited, Joe’s teen-aged sons had tackled him no less than six times before he’d decided to play dirty himself. No doubt a game was in the works for this afternoon. He’d already seen Joe’s sister Kathleen this morning: she’d assured him that Joe had put out the call to all of them to bring their broods for a few pick-up games this weekend. No better way than to go out than with a bang.
Thinking of the pain he’d rather inflict than endure, he picked up his pace. Visiting his friends’ compound had been a two-fold excursion: sure, he was ready for some good, clean, underhanded fun---but Hickory Hill was also in close proximity to the residence of a certain two-star admiral. Before he committed career suicide on Monday, he felt the need share his information with AJ Chegwidden.
Grimacing at the thought of what he was about to do, Clay eased into his third mile, searching the perimeter for his target. As he leveled out into his fourth mile, he caught sight of some movement near the unpaved utility road. Changing direction, he swiftly sprinted toward the now-recognizable figure. He’d have to make the old man aware of his predictability when it came to his Saturday morning run.
1030 ZULU (GMT +5)
HICKORY HILL UTILITY ROAD
MCLEAN, VIRGINIA
Clay had been pacing him for a full minute before AJ acknowledged his presence. Of course AJ had seen the man sprinting towards him, he just wasn’t ready for his run to be interrupted yet. Feeling a cautious tap on his back, AJ briefly shifted his head to the left. Succumbing to the inevitable, the admiral rolled his eyes and briefly grunted: “Webb.”
Annoyed at AJ’s immediate animosity, Clay’s ever-ready sarcasm took over, “Be careful AJ,” he panted out, “…that pat on the back is only a few inches from a kick in the ass!”
Suddenly ticked off at the agent’s presence, AJ halted and turned on him. “Webb, has your reality check bounced or something?” He could tell that the younger man was already regretting his impulsive words. Taking in a gulp of air at the sudden halt to his run, AJ decided to let it go and cut to the chase, “Assuming there’s some purpose to this visit, just state your damn case and stop tailing my six!”
Also attempting to slow down his breathing, Clay leaned forward with his hands on his knees, unnerved by his own ineptitude. Swallowing his remembered anxiety as best he could, his mumbled, “Sorry AJ,” was met with the admiral’s patented don’t-mess-with-me stare.
“Uh, can we get off the road for a minute? I need to talk to you. Just for a moment,” Clay added.
Studying the blank expression on the Webb’s face, AJ nodded and led them over to a sunlit tree whose large roots had been exposed by the wear and tear of nature. Clay chose to lean his back against the tree’s wide trunk while AJ hunkered down on an arched root, stretching out his legs.
“Webb?” AJ prodded.
It had seemed like such a good plan yesterday, but now Clay was uncertain. A look of profound sadness entered his eyes as he met AJ’s impatient glare.
“I never thought I’d be saying this, AJ---to you or anyone---but I guess there comes a time in every man’s life when he’s got to go with his gut and…damn the consequences,” Clay began.
Sick of all the grandstanding and double-talk his team had received from Clay’s boss during the past week, AJ shook his head in disgust. “Clay, I’m just not in the mood for this right now. Whatever Watts has put you up to, just give it up. I’ve already authorized Rabb to use the media if necessary, so I think we’re beyond the negotiation stage.”
AJ started getting to his feet, but Clay’s shove to his shoulder halted his progress. Enraged, Chegwidden shoved off the offending hand and had opened his mouth to issue a warning when Clay spread his arms wide and stepped back, “I am not playing you AJ! I tracked you down out here---which, by the way, is just too predictable, even for you---because I DON’T want anyone at the Company to find out. Do you really think I’m the guy Watts would send with a deal? Jesus, AJ!”
Clay stalked off towards the road, wondering why he’d ever even tried to communicate with the man. It was obvious he’d just have to do this on his own, without any counsel from the one man who could actually understand his dilemma. Although he heard AJ’s shout, Clay kept going, reluctant to let the other man see the hurt his words had inflicted.
“Webb! Get your ass over here and tell me what’s going on!”
Seeing that the field agent wasn’t about to follow his orders, AJ grudgingly jogged after Clay and caught up with him. They walked in silence for half a mile before AJ spoke. By now he’d thought through what Clay had said and was concerned. Hoping to ease the situation, he glanced over at Clay’s closed expression and offered up an apology of sorts.
“Clay, you’re right. I jumped to conclusions. Easy to do with you, but I’ve cooled down now. So, out with it. What did you want to tell me?”
Careful not to let his disappointment in the admiral’s attitude show, Clay shrugged off the olive branch, “Nah, forget it. I figure the more shit you put up with, the more shit you’re gonna get.”
“You little…what’s gotten into you Webb? This isn’t like you---not even at your worst. I’ve already figured out that something’s bothering you, so don’t pull the tin man routine. What exactly do you have planned and how will it hurt my people?” AJ practically shouted as, stepping in front of Clay, he halted their angry march.
Clay threw up both hands and shrugged off the admiral’s concern. Laughing in a self-deprecating manner, Clay looked off in the distance, over AJ’s shoulder. “AJ, don’t worry---you’ll actually like this. Gets the SecNav off your ass, Rabb gets what he wants, and the Navy’ll have its answers---a win-win scenario all around.”
“I take it we’re talking about the Angel Shark?” AJ wanted some type of clarification.
“You could say so,” was Clay’s seemingly off-hand response. AJ, however, saw deeper. “What has Rabb talked you into Webb?”
At that, Clay shot a look of reprimand at AJ. “Rabb hasn’t talked me into anything, AJ. I’m a field agent: my father’s son. I’m highly skilled at what I do and over the years I’ve learned from the best---even you, AJ.” Looking away again, Clay continued, “I can’t be manipulated by the likes of Rabb. His idea of justice and my own just don’t mesh. I actually believe that national security must be maintained at all costs, not just when it’s convenient to the individual.” This last was said with a look that was not lost on AJ.
“It’s my job to discover secrets, to examine secrets, and to protect secrets. Sometimes I have information that can save lives and sometimes it threatens lives. It’s a burden I willingly carry because, in the long run, our Constitution and country are protected from threats most people don’t even want to know about. You might not believe this, but I love my job and I’ve worked hard at it. Usually that includes following orders and giving up most of my own basic rights. Just like my father did before me.”
Clay spoke with the conviction of his beliefs. AJ had never quite realized how the loss of his father might have affected Clay. Certainly, the man never mentioned it. Thinking back, he realized there had been no explanations, no casket, no funeral, no memorial service, no mention or reference, no…closure. AJ remembered Tim Fawkes’ regret in being the OCA on that case: occasionally he would refer to the dear friend he had lost, but no more.
In fact, not long after they had rescued him in Italy---was it five years ago?---Tim had mentioned how that loss had motivated him to recruit Neville’s son into the Company. He’d talked glowingly of his protégé, but always grew silent when questions about the father were asked. So AJ had stopped asking.
“This is about the star, isn’t it?” AJ carefully concluded.
“What star, AJ?” Clay asked in an off-hand manner. They both knew AJ was referring to the CIA memorial wall, but AJ decided to spell it out.
“Your father’s star. The star that says, ‘Neville Webb willingly gave his life for his country, but because the circumstances surrounding his demise may still threaten national security and the lives of other field agents, we can’t acknowledge his sacrifice---yet.’ That star, Clay,” AJ softly stated.
Clay closed his eyes for a moment, willing his emotions to mask themselves in a shield of indifference. Feeling back in control, he grinned up at the admiral, “Says who, AJ? I have no knowledge of any star.”
Shaking his head, AJ knew he would continue to encounter a brick wall on that score. “What in hell are you planning, Clay?”
“Some people give up their right to know certain things, AJ. Doesn’t matter why, they just do. I respect that. My job requires that I do. Of course, there have been times when I didn’t agree with the ‘need to know’ status of the cases I worked. I would examine the case, weigh the evidence, and make my arguments. The boss would usually listen and chew my ass off, but I eventually got clearance---sometimes after the fact---but there was never any jeopardy to national security. I made certain of it. Damn certain.” AJ hadn’t always been sure, but he knew Clay spoke the truth: Rabb might have gotten intel from Clay over the years, but never at the risk of national security---thanks to the loyal special agent.
“Your office has often been the beneficiary of some of my ‘disagreements,’” Clay mused out loud while AJ nodded his head in acknowledgement. AJ was quick to add, “But you’ve always gotten your quid pro quo, Webb.”
“Yeah, it’s been fun over the years, AJ. I liked working with you,” Clay shared a genuine smile this time.
“Going somewhere, Webb?” This sounded a lot like a goodbye to AJ, but he couldn’t quite get a handle on what Clay was trying to tell him.
“Probably,” Clay conceded.
“Work-related?” AJ tried again.
Clay’s smile became bittersweet: “More than likely.”
“Anything you care to share?” AJ allowed a bit of his irritation to seep into his question.
“Anything would be pure speculation at this point, but I figure once Watts finds out about the tape, he’ll know where it came from. My ass will definitely be grass,” Clay predicted.
“Tape? You have evidence on the Angel Shark? Admissible evidence?” AJ was thinking fast.
Clay nodded his head.
“You’ve checked it? No threat to security?” AJ wanted to know, then corrected himself, “of course you have, damnit. Will Watts go down? Does it put him in a bad light?”
“I’d say so,” Clay admitted.
“Before he can burn your ass?”
“Don’t know, but the odds are not in my favor, AJ.”
“Then why do it? We can probably get him on disclosure if we bring the media in. Public conscience might just oust him in the long run. Is it worth your career, Clay?” AJ was trying to understand why a thirty-five year old incident would suddenly spark Webb’s conscience.
“It’s proof, AJ. These men existed. They made the ultimate sacrifice. One man’s reputation is not a valid reason for denying their families the right to know that these men died in the service of their country and were honored for that sacrifice. They need to bury their husbands, their brothers, their sons, and their…fathers. They need to know that chapter is closed. Knowing that is not a threat to national security---I know it for a fact.” There was conviction in Clay’s voice as well as a bit of envy.
“You’ve thought this through?” AJ asked, then came to a realization: “Aw, hell! You’ve already considered the angles, haven’t you? And you’re still going through with it!” AJ saw the determined look on Clay’s face.
“Damn, son! Damn!” AJ repeated. Then it occurred to AJ that Clay didn’t really care what he thought. He needed something from him.
“OK, Webb, tell me what you need and I’ll tell you how to get along without it.” AJ was getting pissed off at nearly being taken in by Clay again.
The disdain in Clay’s voice was hard to miss as he gave AJ a pitying look, “A choice AJ, just a choice.”
“What choice?” AJ asked, on full alert.
Growing tired all of a sudden, Clay decided not to draw the meeting out any further. “Easy really. Do I give the tape to you or Rabb? Either way, doesn’t matter to me.”
Thinking out loud, AJ offered, “If it comes from Rabb, he can deny knowing you’re the source, maybe give you an out with Watts.”
They both knew that was a long shot, but at this point, why argue? “Whatever. I’ll see it gets to Rabb.” Clay agreed and began jogging towards the compound.
“Hold up, Webb. What if he figures out you’re the source?” AJ called out.
Webb stopped and slowly turned around. He retraced his steps until he was a couple of feet from the admiral. “Of course he’ll know I’m the source, AJ. There was never any question of that. And he’ll know why I did it, too. He won’t question it. He won’t ask what I want in return. He won’t question my motives. That’s what I like about Harm---what you see is what you get.”
With that, Clay shook his head fondly, then seemed to realize to whom he was speaking. Looking AJ in the eye, Clay steadfastly informed him, “Harm is an honorable man, Admiral. He would protect the source of this information with his life. As would I.”
The admiral watched Webb as he headed back towards the Hickory Hill compound. Webb was either a fool or one of the bravest men he had ever known. He immediately regretted his distrust of the agent and quietly whispered, “I know you would, Clay. You’re an honorable man, too. One of the few I know.”
At one time those words would have meant the world to Clayton Webb.
~~~~~~~~~~Finis~~~~~~~~~