Temple of the Serpent

 

By R. L. Keller

 

 

(As a lot of you know I’m not overly fond of crossover stories.  The scenes portrayed in my short story “Sweet” just sort of ‘happened’, stemming from conversations with friends.  I knew that I’d probably be pestered for ‘the rest of the story’, so here it is.  I get out of calling it a crossover because the main part of the action takes place before Lee comes to Voyage and Ziva comes to NCIS.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it J  RLK)

 

Author’s note : There is only one tiny gem of truth in the following story – the shipment of missiles actually happened as reported.  Beyond that, any resemblance to an actual Mossad or ONI mission is pure coincidence!

 

His legs working smoothly and fluidly like well-oiled pistons, he gave himself over to the climb, putting prevailing issues behind him as surely as he was the valley floor.  Not that life was bad at the moment.  Actually, he was feeling pretty good.  He’d recently landed a new position, one that he was sure he as really going to love.  Just...he needed to unwind.  And for him, unwinding meant hard physical exercise.  He’d all too quickly let his brain take second place to his body, reveling in the exhilaration of muscles doing what they were intended for as he all but launched himself up the backwoods trail he’d been told about, into a seldom-traveled area of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  He barely felt the heavily loaded backpack he carried, so much was he enjoying the feelings of fresh air and hard labor.

 

Apparently not so his hiking companion.  From behind him there came a breathless, muttered, “You...trying...kill me?”  Cdr. Lee Crane chuckled softly but stopped walking.  Grinning, he turned back toward his old Annapolis roommate, Lt. Cdr. Charles Morton.  Chip was now XO aboard Lee’s new command, the mostly research submarine Seaview, pride and joy of her designer-builder-owner, Admiral Harriman Nelson (Ret.).  The blond struggled the last feet of trail separating them and flopped down, panting heavily as he reached for his canteen.

 

“Sorry, Chip,” Lee still smiled as he settled next to his friend and grabbed his own canteen.  “I keep forgetting that you’re more used to corridors of metal instead of trees, breathing revitalized air instead of the good stuff.”  Chip nearly threw his canteen at his friend, blew him a raspberry instead, and took another swallow of water.  “You need to get out more,” Lee needled him with a bright smile.

 

“You’ve been cooped up in subs nearly as much as me,” Chip defended himself.  While the pair had never served together after graduating, they’d both gravitated toward the ‘silent service’.  Admiral Nelson, having met both young men at Annapolis where he was an occasional instructor during their years there, had snagged Chip away from the regular Navy and into the Reserves almost before Seaview’s keel was laid.  Once he’d ‘retired’ and founded NIMR – The Nelson Institute of Marine Research in Santa Barbara, California, he knew that he wanted Chip’s keen organizational skills coupled with his knack for computers on board as soon as possible.  He’d also have liked Lee as Seaview’s skipper but that wasn’t to be.  At least at the time.  Recent circumstances had brought Lee back into Nelson's sphere of influence and he’d snagged him before he could once more get away.  Chip had been ecstatic at the time.  Right this instant he was having second thoughts.

 

Lee ducked his head and turned away, looking out over the untouched forests they were hiking through.  There was an almost growl from Chip and Lee turned back with a short quick nod.  “Have to keep myself in top shape,” he admitted softly.

 

“ONI,” Chip did growl with a hard glare.  Lee nodded again, and both were momentarily silent. 

 

It was a touchy subject between the pair.  Lee had been contacted by the Navy’s Intelligence-gathering division almost as soon as he’d graduated Annapolis and had quickly earned a reputation for quick thinking, and successfully accomplishing complicated missions.  Unfortunately, those same successful missions all too frequently left Lee hurting in some way.  While no klutz he would do whatever it took to finish an assignment, never backing down from whatever challenges he faced.  Chip didn’t understand why Lee couldn’t settle down and concentrate on a regular Navy position – the few times the pair had been able to get together over the last few years Lee was almost always recuperating from some kind of ONI-instigated injury.  Now that Lee had taken over command of Seaview, Chip hoped that he’d tell ONI to take its own hike!  But, his practical side wasn't holding its breath.  Nelson also had ties to ONI and, while he preferred to stick to scientific cruises, was still tied to the Navy enough that Seaview did occasionally get called into active duty.

 

With a small grin at his friend that was a bit more grimace than he cared to admit, Chip let Lee off the hook he’d put him on and stood up.  “Lead on, Genghis,” he nonetheless groused.  “No place to camp here for the night.”  Lee’s grin was somewhat subdued, acknowledging Chip’s concerns, but he stood easily and headed up the trail.  He did slow his pace ever so slightly, accommodating Chip’s slightly less active lifestyle.  While the blond did keep himself in good muscle tone, Lee accepted that he spent more time than Lee did parked in front of a computer screen.

 

Another hour brought them to a point where decisions had to be made.  In front of them the trail followed a rocky spine to another section of forest.  There was a small meadow on this side where they could camp for the night and continue on the next morning.  They were in no hurry – Seaview had returned from a simple run three days ago and wasn’t scheduled out again for just over two weeks.  Nelson, noticing Lee’s need for activity, had suggested the hike, and he’d urged Chip to go along as well – he, too, thought that Chip needed the diversion.  But there was still several hours of daylight and, while Lee did give Chip the option after their long uphill hike of crashing here for the night, Chip’s map said that there was an even better place on the other side that was close to a stream flowing down from the higher peaks.  That settled, the pair once more took off.

 

The trail, while fairly narrow, wasn’t all that difficult and Chip soon had his breathing, and his good humor, back under control.  The pair had kibitzed off and on about the scenery, Lee needling Chip about not handling fresh air well because he was so used to the canned variety, and Chip needling right back that ‘mountain goat’ wasn’t an overly useful talent aboard a submarine.  The nattering continued nonstop, and deteriorated into the kind of full-fledged harassment that only two such old friends could get away with without one eventually killing the other.  Both were trying to act outraged while working hard not to burst out laughing.  Chip broke first, after a particularly evil taunt from Lee concerning a secretary at the Naval Academy they’d both had a bit of a crush on.  Lee had run into her a few months before taking over command of Seaview – she was now working at the Pentagon, had put on seventy pounds or so, and had five children.  As Chip finally cracked up at that mental image, Lee stopped walking and turned back to grin broadly at the blond.  Chip was laughing so hard he didn’t watch carefully enough where he put one foot down and the loose rocks underneath gave way, causing him to stumble slightly.  Lee quickly reached out a hand to steady his friend but Chip at the same time was working to balance himself, and in the process upset Lee.  The blond’s laughter turned to horror as the brunet fell backward, overbalanced because of the heavily loaded backpack, and went headfirst, backwards, down the steep bank, quickly disappearing into the trees and brush some twenty feet below the top of the ridge.  Several yells merely echoing back at him, Chip headed with only slightly more control after his friend.

 

He found Lee lying on his side, face up the hill, the back of his head against the base of a tree.  A string of oaths, very unusual for the normally so under control man, escaped as he realized that if Lee had hit the tree only inches differently, the pack would have hit first instead of Lee’s head.  A quick check confirmed that the brunet was out cold.  Chip shrugged out of his own backpack and started running hands more used to computer keys than body parts carefully over his friend, starting with making sure that Lee was breathing, then checking extremities.  Chip talked to himself as he went, trying to remember everything Seaview’s new CMO, Dr. William Jamison, had tried to teach him and the sub’s other officers, as well as selected crewmen, during the mandatory first-aid training sessions he’d established as one of his first acts after taking over the position.  A grim grin ever so briefly touched Chip’s mouth, although it never made it to his eyes.  Lee had been less than thrilled when it was made known that Jamison expected Seaview’s CO and XO to participate along with the JO’s – Lee considered himself exempt from such superfluous (to him) training.  Seaview carried not only the fully accredited doctor but also two highly skilled corpsmen.  Lee had simply ignored the new CMO until Nelson had intervened.  Chip wasn't privy to that conversation.  But while Lee had shown up at the next training session, he’d spent the entire hour working on a new design for one of Seaview’s rear storage areas that he decided wasn’t working as well as it could.  Chip knew that Jamison was aware of Lee’s total disinterest in the training, but couldn’t very well call out his new CO in front of the JO’s.  Chip had a feeling that the battle was far from over, but Nelson had suggested this hike before the CMO could get up a head of steam.

 

“Nothing appears to be broken – except maybe your hard head,” Chip muttered as his fingers could find no broken bones. There was an ominous smear of red on the tree trunk as Chip very carefully separated Lee from his backpack so that he could lay Lee on his back to more carefully check his chest for rib damage.

 

Both men had packed their own packs so Chip had no idea what if any first-aid supplies Lee carried.  Chip had only packed a few simple things – stuff for bee stings, a couple band-aids, a small tube of antibiotic ointment, and an ace bandage – figuring that would be all he’d need.  And hopefully not even that small bit of supplies.  He quickly went through Lee's pack and was surprised to find a fairly extensive first-aid bundle.  He decided that Lee’s ONI experiences must have led him to always travel well equipped.  For that, at least, Chip was grateful.

 

Once Chip got his own breathing back under control, so much had he been concerned for his friend’s immediate condition, he concentrated on Lee’s head injury.  There was a fairly large knot forming where the back of Lee’s head had been lying against the tree trunk.  Chip rolled Lee back onto his side so that he could clean the scraped skin, apply a square bandage liberally slathered with antibiotic cream, and held in place by several layers of gauze wrapped all the way around Lee’s head.

 

“Come on, Lee,” Chip started chiding his friend.  “Wake up, man.  You're starting to scare me.”  In Chip’s pack he carried a small penlight and he tried to remember what he could about how eyes were supposed to react.  While he couldn’t be sure, both of Lee’s eyes seemed to respond the same – that at least was hopeful.  “Well,” Chip admitted his own lack of knowledge, “unless you smacked so hard that both eyes are messed up.”  But from what Chip could tell they were fairly quick to react to the light so Chip tried to think positive as he finally reached for his cell phone.

 

He was immediately ticked – no cell service.  Lee had harassed him gently for even bringing the thing, but Chip was so used to carrying it when ashore that he’d not given it another thought.  “Yeah, Lee, I can hear you chuckling,” Chip muttered.  “Now, if you’d just do it so the birds could hear as well,” and he gave Lee’s shoulder a gentle shake.

 

He sighed heavily when there was an almost response.  The dark-haired head made an effort to move and Lee’s tightly closed eyes opened fractionally.  “Huh?”

 

“Wake up, buddy,” Chip urged.  When Lee’s eyes would have closed, Chip gave his shoulder another gentle shake.  “Hey, no sleeping on the job,” he ordered, and was rewarded with a little more firmly uttered mutter.

 

“Who's sleeping?”  Once more Lee’s eyes opened, this time a little further.  Chip made sure that he blocked any direct sun from hitting Lee’s face with his own torso.

 

“You, buddy,” Chip tried to tease him, although he knew that his voice still wasn’t under total control.  “Laying down on the job.  Making your XO do all the work, as usual.”  He smiled as Lee frowned but laid a hand on Lee’s shoulder, keeping Lee from trying to get up.  “Easy, Lee,” he warned.  “You took a pretty good whack to the back of your head.”

 

“Huh?”  Lee slowly reached a hand up and touched first the bandage, then winced as fingers hit the bump.  Confusion written plainly on his face, he looked at Chip.

 

“Slipped on the trail and fell backwards into this tree.”  Chip reached out and patted the offensive evergreen with a small grin on his face.  But his mind was working furiously, trying to remember what he’d been told about concussion symptoms.  He was vaguely remembering that it wasn’t unusual for a victim to not remember the actual accident that caused the injury.  He just hoped that he was right!  For now he needed to convince Lee that he was actually hurt, not blow Chip off and act like nothing was wrong.  Chip was only too aware that that was Lee’s usual reaction to injury or illness.  He’d learned early in their friendship, their plebe year at Annapolis, that Lee didn’t like being slowed down – by anyone or anything!  “We need to get you someplace a little more comfortable than where you are.  Think you can walk back down the trail a ways?”

 

“I'm fine,” came out as Lee struggled to sit up.

 

Chip helped, but frowned at his friend.  “Sure you are,” he growled.  “You can barely keep your head from falling off your shoulders.”

 

“...not that bad...” Lee tried.  But he acknowledged reluctantly, with a small look at Chip, that the only reason he was sitting as steady as he was, was Chip still had hold of him.

 

Chip grunted.  He kept a hand on Lee as he stood up and stepped almost behind Lee.  Putting a hand on each side of Lee just below his armpits, his voice as firm.  “Let’s see if you can even stand up,” he ordered.  He did most of the work to heft Lee to his feet, then kept a firm hold as Lee struggled to get and keep his balance.

 

Once Lee was relatively steady Chip quickly put his pack back on, slipped one strap of Lee’s pack over his own shoulder, and then moved around to Lee’s side.  “Let’s get you back down the trail, off this ridge.”

 

“Wait,” Lee hesitated as Chip would have pointed his friend back the way they’d come.  “Weren’t we headed that way?”  Lee pointed the other direction.

 

“No way are we continuing this hike,” Chip ordered.

 

“But...”  Lee hesitated, and tried to reason with his friend.  Well, as much as his aching head would allow.  “Weren’t we headed for a stream?”

 

“We were,” Chip agreed.  “But it’s further away from the trail head, where my rig is parked.”

 

Lee sighed.  “But I seriously doubt that I can make it that far.  At least right now,” he said, very reluctantly.  “We’re better off camping for the night where we have a fresh water supply.”

 

As much as Chip wanted to argue, he had to acknowledge Lee’s logic – especially as Lee was actually admitting his inability to walk back to Chip’s SUV.  “Okay,” it was Chip's turn to sigh.  “I'll give you that one.  Although I don’t want to,” he still sniped.  But he was pleased that the complaint dragged half a smile out of Lee.

 

Chip was not pleased with how long, and how much effort, it took both men to reach a suitable spot to spend the night.  He sat Lee down and propped him against a tree trunk while he set up camp.  But when he returned from a quick trip to fill the canteens at the stream, about twenty feet away from where he intended to build a small fire pit, Lee had fallen over and appeared to be once more unconscious.  A yell from Chip and Lee opened his eyes, but Chip wasn’t happy when all Lee did was complain that Chip didn’t have the sleeping bags unrolled; that Lee wanted to sleep.

 

“No way!”  Chip was adamant as he sat Lee back up against the tree.  “No sleeping on my watch.  Not with a concussion.  I know that much!”

 

“You don’t know squadoosh,” Lee argued right back.

 

Chip took a deep breath.  He knew that he shouldn’t be arguing with Lee.  But...  “Look, Lee.  I remember being told that you shouldn’t let a person that you think has a concussion fall asleep.  You need to stay awake or you might fall so far unconscious that you won’t wake up.”

 

Partway through Chip’s lecture Lee started slowly shaking his head.  “That’s not actually true,” he now told Chip.  “Oh, medical personnel will wake a concussed patient up every little bit, to make sure that the symptoms aren’t getting worse.  But rest is actually the best medicine.”

 

Chip sat back and glared at Lee.  “And just what makes you such an expert?  You couldn’t even sit through one of Doc Jamison’s training sessions, you were too busy working on something else and didn’t even pretend to listen to him.”

 

Chip totally didn’t understand the half smile that Lee sent him.  “I did, actually, listen.  But it was all pretty basic first aid.  He didn’t say anything that I didn’t already know.  I explained that to him later.  I’ve had regular classes and refresher courses through ONI.”

 

Chip sighed again.  “Which explains why Jamison didn’t take your head off, as mad as he looked when you seemingly ignored him.”

 

Lee nodded – carefully, as his head was pounding.  He’d not enjoyed the effort it had taken to reach this spot but he knew that they couldn’t stay where the accident had happened.  “He went straight to Admiral Nelson.  The Admiral, of course, has had some of the same training so he explained some of it.  I talked to Jamison later that day.”

 

“Harrumph,” Chip muttered.  It caused Lee to grin at his old friend.  He and Chip had both learned early, after meeting Nelson at Annapolis, that the snort was Nelson’s often-used term to express discontent with a comment, or disbelief.  Apparently, now that Chip had been working with the Admiral for a while, he’d picked it up as well.

 

“Well, at least let me get you something to help the headache,” Chip finally relaxed, and then got ticked again when Lee refused.

 

Lee held up a hand to stop whatever Chip was about to yell.  “No, Chip.  With this kind of injury you shouldn’t really be taking anything that thins the blood – it can just cause more bleeding.”

 

“Lee, I know that I’ve been given stuff,” Chip tried to talk Lee into cooperating.

 

“Yeah, there are painkillers you can take.  I don’t know what you have in your pack but all I brought were aspirin and ibuprofen – both of which aren’t a particularly good idea right at the moment.”  When Chip nodded, he continued.   “Sorry, Chip,” he decided to change the subject.  “Didn’t bring you along so you could do all the work.”  He frowned when the comment caused Chip to get a decidedly evil expression on his face.

 

“You can make it up to me,” Chip told him with an all too brilliant smile.

 

It made Lee nervous.  “How?” he asked carefully, almost afraid of what Chip was going to ask for.

 

“You can tell me how you met Ms. David.”  It had come to light recently that Lee was friends with an Israeli Mossad officer now assigned to the NCIS office in Washington, DC.*  Chip had bided his time and waited for just the right moment to pester Lee about the woman with the exotic beauty.  Now seemed absolutely perfect.  Lee couldn’t just blow him off and walk away.

 

Lee hesitated.  He didn’t like to talk about himself.  “You don’t like when I mention ONI missions,” he tried.

 

Chip sent him a quick glare but the brilliant smile made an easy return.  “In this case I’ll make an exception.”

 

“I’d rather sleep,” Lee tried again.

 

“Unhuh,” Chip shook his head with another glare.  “You talk while I get camp set up and fix dinner.”

 

Lee’s heavy sigh had less to do with his aching head than it did admitting defeat.  He knew the instant Chip laid eyes on Ziva David that he’d have to eventually come clean about how they’d met – Chip wouldn’t forget the look of delight that had hit Lee’s face when they’d run into each other at the Norfolk docks the previous month.  He closed his eyes, thinking back on the ONI mission that he’d finished shortly before being sent to Seaview to complete what he thought at the time was just another TAD, but had turned into him becoming Seaview’s permanent captain.

 

“Hey,” Chip yelled.  Lee opened his eyes.  “I said no sleeping,” the blond ordered.  Lee frowned again, but started the story.

 

~

 

Cdr. Lee Crane, in command of the fast attack submarine, Sea Horse, had barely laid his body down in his small bunk when the intercom went off.  The calm voice of his XO, Lt. Cdr. James Roche, held a note of apology.  “XO to Cdr. Crane.  Call for you, Skipper.”

 

Lee shook his head softly and sat up.  The cabin was small enough that he could reach the intercom without getting up.  “Be right there, XO,” he answered amiably, and headed back to the Conn.

 

It had been a somewhat boring, but nonetheless stressful, last twenty-four hours.  Sea Horse had been tasked with getting a SEAL team safely onto Syrian soil where they would attempt a rescue of three American tourists.  The trio had been sightseeing on their own along the border in Turkey and had accidentally crossed into Syrian territory.  At least, that was the claim Syria was making and had immediately charged them with spying.  Lee had no idea who was right – that wasn’t his job.  Patrolling in the Mediterranean Sea, they’d picked up the team in Roda, Spain, and landed them safely on the Syrian coast near Latukia, where the Americans were being held.  Sea Horse wasn’t the designated retrieval vehicle for the team – and hopefully the rescued Americans – but they were assigned to hang around quietly as a back-up.  An hour ago they’d heard that the SEALs, along with the rescued trio, had commandeered a small aircraft and made their way safely to Nicosia, on Cyprus, and were now on their way back to Roda.  With Bravo Zulu’s all around for their small part in the operation, Lee had finally headed to his cabin for some much-needed rest.  Since the operation started, even though his part had gone off without a hitch, he’d been too on edge to close his eyes.  XO Roche had finally managed to head him toward his cabin, hence the reluctant smile he sent Lee now as Lee entered the Conn and headed to the radio unit.  Lee returned it as he slipped on the headset, and listened to the officious voice of ONI Director Robert Jones start giving him his next assignment.

 

~

 

Chip looked up from unrolling sleeping bags as Lee’s voice trailed off.  Lee’s eyes had closed and he was starting to list slowly to port.  “Lee,” Chip yelled sharply, and was rewarded as hazel eyes reappeared.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re spacing out,” Chip told him matter-of-factly.

 

“I'm fine,” came back, but Lee’s eyes started to close again.

 

Chip growled softly, mostly to himself, and walked the few feet to his friend.  “Sure you are,” he muttered, and once more straightened Lee’s back against the tree.  “Now, stay awake and go back to your story.  As soon as I finish this I’ll start dinner.”

 

“Not hungry.”

 

“Which you will eat,” Chip spoke slowly and succinctly.

 

Lee sent him one of his shy, through-the-lashes looks.  “Probably wouldn’t stay down,” he admitted.

 

Chip instantly relented.  “A few bites,” he coaxed.  “I won’t fix you much.”

 

“I’ll try,” Lee told him softly.

 

“Story?” Chip got back to business.

 

Lee frowned.  “Where was I?”

 

“Tourists rescued, you’d just gotten a call from ONI,” Chip reminded him.

 

Lee nodded.  He closed his eyes but a growl from Chip opened them again.  He sent the blond an ever so slight grin and got back to his story.

 

~

 

Lee finished his call and glanced around the Conn.  “XO, set a course due South, slow and silent, and join me in my cabin.”

 

“Aye, aye, sir,” XO Roche answered instantly, and Lee headed back to his cabin.  He sighed at first sight of his bunk.  He’d get a chance at a few hours of sleep but he had maps to check, supplies to pack, and plans to make before that could happen.

 

He had a map of the Middle East spread out on his small desk when a light tap announced XO Roche’s arrival.  Lee had let a small grin form as he felt Sea Horse’s smooth turn and stealthy pace.  It was one of the things that made his occasional ‘errands’ for ONI acceptable – that Jim Roche had no problems stepping into the Command position.  Lee wasn’t sure why he didn’t already have his own boat.  He was just extremely grateful to have him aboard Sea Horse.  “Come,” he called out.  Roche came in, shut the door behind him, and glanced at where Lee had his finger settled on Lebanon before sending Lee a grimace.  “Yeah,” Lee agreed.  “Not where I would have chosen for a vacation.” 

 

“What vacation,” Roche muttered softly, then quickly glanced at his CO.  Lee merely shrugged and sent his XO a very small grin, totally understanding Roche’s unhappiness that Lee had to take this next assignment.  “How long?” Roche asked quietly.  Lee would tell him only what Roche needed to know.

 

“Not sure,” Lee admitted.  “You’ll put me ashore here,” he indicated about fourteen kilometers south of Beirut, at a quiet stretch of shoreline two clicks south of the town of Khalde.  “Once you back off into neutral waters, try to make yourself invisible.”  He sent his XO a quick grin that was easily returned.  It was an old joke among sub crews; so old that it was almost a bad joke, but still part of the banter between men stuck for months at a time in tight quarters.  “Sea Horse is still on patrol duty so if you’re caught wandering around, you’re still within our orders.”

 

“Understood, sir,” Roche acknowledged.

 

“Give me forty-eight hours,” Lee continued, while handing his XO a small slip of paper, “then have the radio shack start monitoring this channel, five minutes at a time, quarter past each hour.  My guess is, it will take me at least twice that long.”  He sent Roche another quick grin.  “But you never know – I could get lucky.”  Roche sent a brief glance upward and, while Lee frowned slightly, nonetheless sent his XO a quick nod.  It seemed like nothing ever went as planned when ONI was involved.  “Your turn to pick call signs,” Lee now told him. 

 

There was a pause before a decidedly mischievous grin hit Roche’s face.  “We’ll be ‘Jack’, you’re ‘beanstalk’,” he snickered.  While Roche was by no means hefty, next to him Lee was downright skinny.  Perfectly aware that his CO was all hard-packed muscle, and could work any three crewmen into the deck if circumstances warranted, it was still something Roche could chide his commanding officer about – and get away with because of the easy friendship that had formed between the two, the very brief months they’d worked together.

 

Lee still sent him a very quick glare, but it morphed quickly into an easy grin.  “Then ‘Jacque’ and ‘tige d’haricot’ it is,” he easily translated into French.**  “Go plot the course,” he ordered with a growl.  But he still had half a grin on his face, and Roche returned it.  “Give me an hour’s lead on ETA.  Once I get my gear ready I’m going to try to get some rest.”

 

“Aye, aye, sir,” Roche returned, although it was accompanied by another quick look upward before he headed back to the Conn.

 

~

 

“It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who calls you skinny,” Chip told Lee dryly.  “Why French?”

 

“Several reasons actually.  Better than English or Hebrew if it was overheard.  Jim speaks fluent French.  His wife’s from Quebec and her parents don’t speak much English.  And French is one of the languages often heard in Lebanon.  Can I lay down now?”  The last sentence came out as a slight whine.

 

“Water’s almost hot,” Chip told him.  Lee smiled softly as Chip’s voice had slipped into XO mode.  But his head hurt too much so it didn’t last long.  “Half a sandwich and a cup of soup.  Okay?”

 

“Do my best,” Lee told him.  He knew that Chip was extremely worried.  Lee didn’t think that he was all that bad.  He did acknowledge the possibility that he could be wrong.  Briefly.  But he didn’t want to do anything that would cause his friend further stress if he could help it.  He did have to ask Chip to repeat himself when he realized that Chip was looking at him, obviously expecting an answer to whatever question he’d apparently just asked.

 

Chip raised an eyebrow but repeated the query.  “I asked, how many hours ahead of ETA did you go back to the Conn?”

 

Lee sent him a shy smile – Chip knew him only too well.  “About four,” he admitted.  “But I did rest,” he insisted.  “Just took us a little bit to work our way close enough to drop me off safely.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Chip muttered.

 

“We also had to wait until it was dark,” Lee added.  Chip nodded agreement to that bit of logic and he sent Lee a quick grin.  It was accompanied by another raised eyebrow, and Lee took the hint.

 

~

 

0215 hours on an almost moonless night found Lee deposited on a barren strip of Lebanon’s coast just south of Khalde.  A quick radio check let XO Roche know that he’d melted into the landscape without attracting attention.  He was dressed in regional garb, put together from a collection he kept in two special bags that accompanied him to each new posting.  He’d learned early on not to depend on ONI to supply him with much of anything – especially for short-notice assignments like this one.  Some of his more specialized equipment they had supplied early on – like radios and weapons that couldn’t be traced back to the United States.  And he’d quickly learned the art of improvisation – using what was at hand to accomplish a goal.

 

He immediately headed inland toward Bchamoun.  Intel was sketchy at best – ONI seemed to make a habit of giving him little actual fact.  On the other hand, Lee supposed that they did the best they could.  The missions he was usually sent on were by definition covert – the people involved didn’t exactly make their plans public knowledge.

 

In this case, intel had been intercepted that Hezbollah had recently come into possession of over 200 surface-to-air missiles.  Not much was known about the delivery except that it had taken place close to the Syrian border, and involved a high Hezbollah leader known only by the code name ‘Serpent’.  There was some speculation that he was a respected Muslim cleric named Salah Gharib, but nothing had ever been proved.  Gharib made regular trips around the country from Beirut and spent a fair amount of time in Bchamoun.  That town wasn’t far from the Bakaa Valley, an extremely fertile valley where a lot of the country’s food was grown.  Unfortunately, at least for some, one of the other crops grown there was opium poppies.  The terrorist group Hezbollah – the so-called Party of God – was believed to have started in the valley.  While Gharib so far had never actually been connected to the militant Hezbollah, enough circumstantial evidence was piling up to make the intelligence communities suspicious of him.

 

The shipment of missiles, once delivered, had then mysteriously disappeared, making a lot of people extremely nervous.  There was speculation that it was being stored in the mountains somewhere near Bchamoun.  Someone had intercepted a transmission – and Lee wasn’t even going to speculate on how ONI had heard about it – that referenced something called ‘The Temple of the Serpent’.  Apparently nothing in the region’s varied religious factions related to anything with that exact title – assuming the reference had even been translated correctly.  Because of the location, some bright person decided that it meant ‘The Serpent’ was hiding the weapons.  If that were so and Gharib was in fact ‘The Serpent’, they were near Bchamoun where Gharib was believed to own several buildings.

 

Lee had quickly stopped trying to make sense of the intel he received.  At first he’d wanted to understand the orders he was given – he was used to his world making sense around him in an orderly fashion.  A few missions for ONI had gone a long way to curing him of that misguided logic, and now he just tried his best to ‘roll with the flow’ as it were.  His orders this time were to head for Bchamoun and see if he could catch any hint of what might be going on.  His darker, Mediterranean complexion allowed him to blend into the region a lot better than some of ONI’s other operatives, and one man would raise fewer eyebrows than sending in, say, a SEAL team for reconnaissance.  Lee wasn’t given specific orders of what to do if he did, indeed, find the missiles.  He had his own suspicions – it wouldn’t be the first time a sudden Israeli air strike had blown something up in Lebanon.  But that wasn’t any of Lee’s business.

 

Among the collection of things ONI had given him were almost a dozen very correct-looking – but fake – passports; he carried with him now one that proclaimed him to be Michel Gemayel, and other papers that listed him as a dock worker.  He’d prefer to travel unhindered, but if he was stopped for any reason he should be safe by saying that he was on a small vacation hiking into the mountains.  He’d brought enough local currency, also something he kept hidden in his bags, to make a quick stop that morning in a small town to pick up some food supplies.  He didn’t want to attract attention so he acted surly enough that no one tried to talk much to him.  He was, however, fortunate enough to overhear a conversation between the shopkeeper and another customer about that person’s destination.  The customer never knew that while he made the drive to Bchamoun, the back of his truck held more than the furniture pieces he was delivering to a store there.

 

Fortunately, the alley the man drove into that afternoon was empty of other traffic and Lee slipped away without being noticed.  He found a relatively quiet corner a couple blocks away to get his bearings and then wandered into a small shop for coffee and a falafel, keeping his head down but his ears open to the conversations going on around him.

 

He wasn’t expecting anything so blatant as, “Hey, did you know there’s a whole bunch of missiles being stored at....,” and therefore wasn’t disappointed when he heard nothing of major interest.  What he was able to do, however, was get a better idea of where he was in the town.  One of the small bits of information he had been given was the address of the place Gharib stayed when he was here, and now Lee had a better idea of how to find it.  While Bchamoun wasn’t that big, it still saved Lee a lot of wasted time wandering around on his own.

 

Unfortunately that turned out to be a dead end.  Or so he at first thought.  The house on the northern edge of town was unlit and silent, and appeared uninhabited, when he scoped it out just after dark.  He hung around for almost three hours, until shortly after midnight, hoping that someone might show up, and was just about to leave when he became aware that he wasn’t the only one apparently keeping tabs on the house.  Lee had found a nice little lookout amongst some bushes on the opposite side of the street and had stayed as quiet as possible as he kept watch.  He was just about to admit defeat when a shadow down the street a ways suddenly moved.

 

Lee barely breathed.  He had absolutely no idea that he wasn’t the only person there, other than the occasional people walking by in one direction or the other or the small number of cars out this late at night.  He’d kept tabs on everyone he’d seen until they moved out of sight, and hadn’t noticed anyone suddenly disappear into what was another section of shrubs.  Did the person see Lee disappear into his section?  Was it even a person?  The quick flit of movement in the minimal light of a new moon wasn’t enough to tell.  Whatever it was, it headed in the other direction and Lee decided to follow it.  If there was someone else keeping tabs on Gharib, that was as good a place to start as any other.  He, like the shadow, kept to as much cover as possible until they hit the next street.  Lee was able to see at that point that it was actually a person as the shadow carefully stood up, looked around, and tried to act as normally as possible as it headed right, back toward the more populated part of the town.  Lee assumed man as opposed to woman from the way the person walked.  It wasn’t an exact science but he allowed a small smile to appear as he decided that the shadow was most likely a man.  At any rate Lee followed his lead and did the same, casually walking into the new area. 

 

At this hour there wasn’t a lot going on.  Streets were rarely totally barren of people, but Lee was very careful to keep his head down and act like he had every right to be where he was.  There were several people in sight as he also turned right.  Not wanting to seem to be following anyone he, however, crossed to the other side of the street before turning. There was a small group of men standing, smoking and talking quietly, in front of one building on the first side, and a couple of others walking by themselves.  Lee couldn’t be sure but he assumed that the shadow was the nearer of the two; the further one would have had to jog to get that far ahead and Lee didn’t think that he’d have wanted to draw that much attention to himself.

 

Lee paid special attention – although he seemed outwardly to not pay any attention at all – as ‘shadow’, as Lee had now dubbed him, passed the small group.  He saw the briefest of head shakes pass between ‘shadow’ and one of the men.  Or thought that he did.  It was just as possible that, living in the same town, they knew each other and had exchanged a word or two.

 

His superiors at ONI had often criticized Lee for his impulsive actions – seeming to make snap decisions and following his instincts instead of protocol.  Yet, those same superiors didn’t criticize too loud or too strong because Lee’s instincts, for the most part, turned into satisfactory conclusions to otherwise totally screwed up missions.  While protocol told him that he should continue to follow ‘shadow’, instinct for some reason was telling him to stick with whom he now designated ‘friend’.  Lee continued walking until he found a quiet corner he could duck around and still watch the small group of men.  ‘Shadow’ continued on down the street, finally moving beyond Lee’s sight.

 

Lee didn’t have a long wait.  About ten minutes later the men broke up, each headed in a slightly different direction.  ‘Friend’ crossed the street and walked right past Lee.  Although not giving any indication that he knew Lee was there, Lee was suddenly extremely nervous.  Had ‘friend’ noticed him coming from the same corner as ‘shadow’, followed his casual movements, and seen him duck into the corner?  Lee allowed himself a mental shrug, but was twice as cautious as he allowed ‘friend’ to get nearly a block away before starting his own seemingly casual walk in the same direction.

 

They didn’t go all that far.  Another block, a left turn, two more blocks along a bending street, and ‘friend’ entered what looked like a small warehouse of some sort.  As soon as Lee saw where ‘friend’ was headed he crossed the street and turned down the next street, headed in the opposite direction.  He kept to a casual pace but also carefully kept watch on his back trail, as he’d been doing since starting to follow ‘friend’.  He wasn’t so cocky not to think that he could follow someone without being detected, and not be aware of someone doing the same to him.  He went half a dozen blocks before melting into another handy bunch of shrubs.  Waiting nearly half an hour, no one passed him in this more deserted part of town and he allowed himself to relax ever so slightly.  Finally, with another glance around, he slid out of the shrubs and made a circuitous journey back to the warehouse. 

 

There were a few lights on in the building, barely visible through what appeared to be very dirty windows.  But all was quiet and Lee pondered his next move.  He frowned as a sudden yawn caught him off guard and he chose to ignore it, as well as his growing tiredness.  He couldn’t exactly go knock on the door of the building and see who answered – especially at this hour of the night.  There were no signs to indicate what the building was.  Another yawn hit him and he finally admitted that he needed to get some sleep.  He hated to leave the building unwatched but there really wasn’t a place anywhere nearby that offered a good enough hiding place to get any peaceful rest.  Regretfully he acknowledged his need for sleep and went in search of a suitable hidey-hole for what was left of the night.

 

~

 

“I need to sleep,” Lee told Chip as he handed back the empty plate.

 

“No,” Chip told him firmly.  He was at least happy that Lee had eaten everything he’d been given – with some coaxing.  But Chip had carefully given Lee only small portions – it was better for both of their psyche’s that Lee eat fairly harassment free.  But sleep was an entirely different matter.  “I told you, no sleeping,” he insisted.  “I don’t think that it’s safe.”

 

“And I told you, you’re full of hot air,” Lee growled with as good a glare as he could come up with.

 

Chip took a deep breath.  He really didn’t want to tick Lee off; even without a headache Lee was a formidable opponent.  “Lee, I’m perfectly willing to admit that I could be wrong.”  He hesitated, and tried to put into his voice as much honesty as he could.  “But I’m not willing to risk your health on you being totally right.”  He sent a bit of his own glare.  “Especially with your track record in that department.”  From the first days of their friendship that began at Annapolis Chip would only shake his head at Lee’s seeming disregard for his own health.

 

Lee closed his eyes.  He didn’t try to lay down – at this point he was sitting on his opened sleeping bag, back against his pack which was propped up against the tree he’d been leaning against earlier.  Chip had no problems fixing Lee’s bedroll but he was being a bulldog about Lee not falling asleep.  Lee was actually feeling a bit better now that he’d eaten.  He was grateful that Chip had insisted on that.  He even had to almost smile as Chip admitted that he could be wrong.  There was a growl from the blond; Lee didn’t open his eyes but he did wave a hand gently at his friend.  Lee could admit as well that he could be wrong about his current condition.  He was almost positive that with a good night’s sleep he’d feel much better.  Almost.  Not enough to try to argue any further with Chip.  Part of his knowledge concerning concussions had to do with occasional side effects.  When monitoring a person with a head injury you needed to be on the alert for mood swings – if the injured person became increasingly belligerent it was usually a sign that the injury was worsening.  He was sure that Jamison had covered that topic during his lecture and he could be pretty sure that Chip was all too aware of it.  He didn’t want to cause Chip any more stress by seeming to become overly argumentative.

 

“Lee,” came softly from the blond.

 

Lee opened his eyes, sending Chip a small smile.  “You just want the rest of the story while I can’t get away,” he still muttered.

 

“Too true,” Chip agreed.  “You’re sure taking your time getting to the good part, namely Ms. David.”

 

Lee shrugged.  “Took awhile getting that far,” he told Chip.  “And you’ll whine if I don’t tell you all of it.”

 

Chip sent him a very brief glare before the smile came back.  “Also true,” he agreed.

 

Lee sighed heavily, wiggled to make himself a little more comfortable, and reluctantly went back to his narrative.

 

~

 

Lee awoke slightly disoriented, needing a few extra seconds to remember where he was, and why.  Once he got that sorted out he mollified a growling stomach with some bread and cheese from his pack, and a few swallows from his canteen.  He remembered passing a couple places where he could either get a hot meal or buy a few more supplies, but his first objective was a casual walk past the warehouse ‘friend’ had disappeared into last night.  Or rather, earlier this morning, he amended to himself as he glanced at the ancient-looking timepiece he carried in his pocket.  The device had a few uses that weren’t obvious at first glance and he handled it carefully.

 

His jacket also served a dual purpose – by turning it inside out it went from dusty tan to dark brown.  It wouldn’t fool a pro but was a simple bit of camouflage to confuse the casual observer.  Lee just had to hope that he’d seemed harmless enough the night before so that he’d been forgotten by everyone else on the street the instant he passed out of their sight.

 

As badly as Lee wanted to check out the warehouse, he chose instead to go back to the area where he’d seen the group of men the night before.  That’s where he’d seen one of the places that he should be able to get a hot breakfast.  And if he was really lucky maybe one or more of the men would be there as well.  Locals often frequented the areas of a town that they were most familiar with, even in a town this relatively small.

 

Unfortunately he was disappointed.  The small cafe was definitely a local favorite, from the stares he received when he walked in.  He kept his head down, quietly ordered and ate a simple meal of Fattee, toasted triangles of pita bread soaked with garlicky yogurt and topped with hummus, and just as quietly left.

 

His first objective thwarted, Lee meandered around and once more walked past Gharib’s supposed residence.  It still looked to be uninhabited so he changed direction and came at the warehouse from a totally different street.  This morning there was activity, although Lee still wasn’t sure what kind of business it was – assuming that it was a business.  Half a dozen men were wandering in and out, but the door they used was instantly closed.  What few windows Lee could see were either covered or so coated with dirt and grime that they were basically useless.  And there were still no signs to indicate what the building was.  Lee meandered past, on the other side of the street, but didn’t see ‘friend’ among the men.  A couple of the men stared openly at Lee and, while not hurrying his pace, he still turned down the next available street to get out of their sight as quickly as he could manage.

 

Now what, Lee asked himself.  The thought had no sooner passed through his brain when he realized that he was being followed.  With daylight there were a good many more people in evidence and Lee had purposely headed into a busier part of town.  But one reason Lee was so successful was, he just ‘sensed’ when there was a change in or near his sphere.  He didn’t try to analyze what caused it.  Perhaps a resident glancing at him followed by a nervous glance behind Lee, or looking at Lee and then disappearing back into a doorway.  It was, however, rarely that obvious.  Lee just ‘knew.’

 

Outwardly he gave no sign – he continued his casual walk toward the main part of town, showing interest in everything and nothing at the same time.  Just a typical passerby.  Finding a street market, he used the opportunity to pick up more bread, cheese, and fruit.  He’d eaten in enough of these kinds of places not to be too afraid of getting tainted food.  He also casually took in his surroundings – specifically anyone who followed him into the area.  No one seemed to be paying him any special attention but all that meant was, whoever they were, they were also good at blending into their surroundings.  It made Lee even more nervous.

 

While not hungry after his quick breakfast Lee decided that he’d hang around the market a bit longer, casually checking out all the offerings and even more casually – at least outwardly – trying to catalog all the faces in hopes that he’d remember them if he saw them again.  It was always wise to be as careful as possible.

 

Meandering among the booths, Lee thought that he recognized a familiar way of walking – ‘shadow’ from the night before.  Lee couldn’t be sure – the man’s entire wardrobe had changed color.  That wasn’t unusual, assuming the man lived here.  But Lee had trained himself to use other signs to identify targets: body carriage, head and arm movements, cadence of walking.  It wasn’t an exact science, of course.  But Lee had learned to use what he had at hand.  In this case there was a general body type coupled with a certain tilt of the head that triggered Lee’s interest.  The man didn’t seem to give Lee any notice but all that meant to Lee was, the man might be extremely good at tailing a target.

 

Lee smiled softly to himself.  He’d been warned during more than one ONI training session that while observation was necessary, becoming so focused on those around you could, if not tempered with reason and logic, lead to paranoia.  Lee could understand and was glad that ONI was only an occasional TAD assignment, not his permanent duty.  Depending on the mission, it sometimes took him a few days to return to ‘normal once he gone home.’  But attention to details – of all kinds – defined all aspects of Lee’s work ethics.  A steady level of alertness was never a bad thing.

 

Belatedly, Lee realized that the older woman whose booth he was at the moment standing in front of apparently thought that Lee was smiling at her and she held out a portion of baklava on a small sheet of paper.  Lee ducked his head but accepted the sweet, sticky treat with another shy smile.  It turned even more sheepish when the woman refused his offer to pay her.  She shooed away his hand with a wide motherly grin and Lee walked on, embarrassed but enjoying the intricate layers of flavor.

 

Using the act of taking bites of the treat as an excuse to look around, Lee re-acquired his ‘target.’  But in doing so he nearly bumped into a young woman also wandering through the market area.  She was casually dressed in a light blouse and a flowing knee-length flowered skirt – Lebanon was much more ‘western’ than a lot of the more conservative middle-eastern countries, and women were quite stylish with their wardrobes.  Lee ducked his head in apology for the almost-clash, she sent him a bright smile, and the two continued on their separate ways.  Almost.  Lee glanced behind him after a few steps; the woman was definitely a ‘looker.’  As he glanced at her, she turned and sent him another look, and both smiled again.  Lee gave himself a shake – the timing was lousy, no matter how good-looking the woman was.  He stuffed the last bite of baklava in his mouth and got back to business.

 

The momentary distraction had made him lose track of the target.  Without being obvious, Lee scanned the whole market area but couldn’t see the man.  A soft swear slipped out, although under his breath, and silently he chastised himself.  See, stupid?  Lose your focus, screw up your mission

 

Lee gave his head a shake, wondering what his next move should be, and decided that keeping an eye on Gharib’s house was probably his best bet.  He’d apparently walked past the warehouse one too many times so he was going to have to be more careful.  He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Gharib still hadn’t shown up in the next 24-48 hours; he’d just have to cross that stretch of sand when he came to it.

 

He was almost out of the marketplace before it dawned on him that the woman he’d nearly bumped into might have crossed his path for the express purpose of distracting him from ‘shadow,’ and he took the opportunity of stopping and readjusting his pack to once more scan the area.  As he suspected, there was now no sign of her, either.  More disgusted with himself than ever he headed in a totally opposite direction – more toward the mountains, to plot an obscure route back to Gharib’s house.

 

He was so mad that he was almost two blocks away before he caught the fact that he was once more being tailed.  Okay, he told himself, now I’m getting irritated.  They want to play that game?  We’ll see just how good these guys are.  Outwardly he gave no indication that he was aware of being followed.  In fact he slowed down just a bit, giving every appearance of doing nothing more than enjoying wandering through a different area of the town.  But his brain was on overdrive as he looked for a spot where he could turn the tables.

 

So far he’d been keeping to the north edge of Bchamoun, in an older part, because that’s where Gharib's residence was.  And also, because his older clothing and backpack didn’t stand out so much as it was closer to a more heavily wooded area leading into the mountains.  The direction he took this time was into the much more modern part of town.  He allowed himself to walk almost into the central court, where the main road switched back on itself around a bunch of office buildings and shops, leaving a central shopping area.  But he kept an eye out for a handy spot he could disappear into, and allowed himself a small smile when he saw it – an alleyway leading off a side street into a small park-like area.  The town had left a lot of such little places as it was being built – a refreshing change in this less arid region of the more barren Middle East.  Outwardly seeming to do nothing more than glance down that street, as he did every other one he came to, he nearly entered the central court area before abruptly changing his mind and reversing his steps.  Not seeming to pay any attention to the people around him, he still caught two people unaware.  The first one, a man Lee didn’t think that he’d seen before, startled slightly when Lee changed direction but quickly regained his composure and continued on, passing Lee with nothing more than a casual glance.  Lee would remember the face and keep watch for him in the future.

 

He didn’t have any problems remembering the second person – the woman he’d ‘bumped’ into at the outdoor market.  Now she carried a string bag with half a dozen or so items in it.  Lee wondered where she’d gotten them so fast but did nothing more than return her quick smile as he passed her as well.  He didn’t look behind him but turned down the street he’d marked earlier, sprinted to the alleyway, and quickly entered the small wooded area.  It had the appearance of a play area for children but happily was empty at the moment.  Lee found a brushy patch and squatted down, shedding his backpack long enough to once more turn his jacket around to the paler color.  He did wonder briefly if that might be a bad idea – the darker color blended into the bushes better.  But he’d been lucky enough to find a fairly heavy thicket and, laying flat on his stomach, his once more donned backpack lent him a fair amount of camouflage.

 

He didn’t have a long wait; the man appeared at the entrance to the alley just a few seconds after Lee had flattened himself.  He stopped and glanced every direction, an angry expression on his face. Lee saw him mumble something to himself before also walking down the alley and stopping once more at the edge of the small park to glance around.  Lee was close enough to barely hear a couple of what he took to be expletives, from the way they were spoken, before the man headed around the park and back toward the north end of town.  Lee didn’t want him to get too far ahead, out of sight.  But he also wanted to see if the woman was still in the area so he stayed where he was for as long as he dared.

 

Giving another careful look in all directions, Lee slithered out of hiding and headed after the man, especially watchful behind him as well.  But there was no indication of a tail this time, thankfully.  It only took him a few minutes to re-acquire his chosen target; once around the next corner Lee saw him ahead, headed back toward the open market.

 

They were almost there, Lee hanging back as far as he could and still keep the man in sight, when the man stopped beside a small truck parked on the side of the street.  He spoke a few words to someone inside, apparently got a response of some sort, and got in and the truck pulled away.  Lee muttered a few expletives of his own and hurried forward as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself, trying to figure out where the truck was going.  He got lucky and was able to catch a glimpse of it, at the next corner, heading up a road that led out of town into the hills north of Bchamoun.  The truck went quickly out of sight but as Lee was pretending to be headed hiking in the mountains he figured that he’d do just that.  Not up the road, for sure, but following the road through the woods.  From the map, Lee remembered another town to the northeast, higher into the hills.  But if the truck had been headed there he should have taken a slightly different route.  From what Lee remembered there wasn’t much except hills directly north of town.

 

Lee was somewhat encouraged when the road the truck had taken started turning into more of a backcountry lane.  By this time it was starting to get dark and Lee decided that he’d better find a place to make camp for the night; close enough to the road to keep track of any traffic – of which there had been none while Lee had followed it, but far enough into the woods so that he wasn’t likely to be spotted.  He wouldn’t risk a fire – while he’d have appreciated the extra warmth, and protection from the native wildlife, he didn’t dare take the risk of it being spotted or smelled.  He’d climbed progressively all afternoon, into more rugged terrain.  He was thankful that bears and wolves were so over-hunted as to be fairly rare.  But jackals and wild boar could still be an issue, as well as snakes; several varieties in this region were poisonous.  Lee would just have to remain vigilant.

 

~

 

“What was it like?” Chip asked.

 

The question took Lee by surprise.  “What was what like?”  He sent the blond a quizzical look.

 

“The mountains you were climbing into,” Chip clarified.  “Was it like this?”  He waved a hand to indicate where they were.

 

“Oh.  Different altitude.  Not nearly so high above sea level.  Different vegetation types.”  Lee looked around.  “Where I was, not so many open meadows; more solid trees and brush.”

 

“Better for hiding in?”

 

Lee sent his friend a curious look.  “That’s the first time I can ever remember when you’ve actually shown interest in one of my ONI missions.”  Chip sent him a glare.  “That’s better,” Lee teased him, and then cringed as his head sent him a reminder of this day’s misadventure.

 

“Lee?”

 

“Can I sleep now?”

 

“You haven’t gotten to Ms. David yet.”

 

“Actually, I have,” Lee told him with a small smile.

 

“The lady in the market,” Chip guessed.  Lee nodded – carefully.  “That, however, does not explain the hug you gave her.  In public,” Chip reminded him with a broad grin, “on the dock at Norfolk.”

 

Lee’s cringe this time wasn’t totally caused by his headache.  He knew that he was going to be in trouble for that momentary lapse in his usual self-control.  He’d just been so surprised to see the woman.  And she hadn’t helped by practically jumping into his arms.  “Got to know her better over the next couple of days,” Lee admitted with a sheepish grin.  It changed to a frown as Chip grinned broadly.  “Not like that,” Lee growled at him.

 

Chip chuckled softly.  “An officer and a gentleman,” he said the familiar phrase with an ever so slight leer.  Lee’s frown went even deeper before both men grinned.  “Obviously you figured out that she wasn’t in cahoots with the bad guys.”  Chip’s expression turned to one of total confusion when Lee nearly giggled.  “Lee?”  There was concern very evident in his voice because of Lee’s unusual reaction.

 

The brunet waved a hand casually – if a bit unsteadily – at the blond.  “I’ll explain that one later,” he said.  He sent Chip a small smile, which morphed into a slightly evil one.  “Ziva’s – ah, Ms. David’s – command of the English language…  Well, let’s just say that there were times we had a small snafu or three.”  But once more he closed his eyes.

 

“Lee,” Chip spoke sharply.

 

Lee’s eyes popped open and his frown reappeared.  “You’re a bigger pain in the six than even you used to be,” he complained.  “Turning XO has made you an even worse tyrant.”

 

“Thank you very much,” Chip turned the grouse into a compliment.  Lee muttered something too low for Chip to hear but he grinned anyway.  “Compliments, however, do not get you out of finishing the story.” 

 

But inwardly he smiled.  Lee was obviously going to tell the story in his own way, at his own pace.  Chip was just glad that he was talking at all – for several reasons.  When he’d first seen Lee lying in a pile against the tree he’d had an instant of near panic, fearing an even more serious injury.  But mostly, Lee had always been reticent to talk about himself so getting him to relate this story at all was a bit of a feather in Chip’s cap, as it were.  While his patience was running a bit thin he knew that he could only push so hard or Lee would clam up totally, and no amount of harassment on his part would get Lee talking again.  “Did you get any sleep that night?” he now asked, getting back to his original purpose.

 

Lee sent him a look that said only too plainly he knew exactly what Chip’s intent was, but it quickly turned sheepish.  “Not much,” he admitted, and went back to his narrative.

 

~

 

Curled up under some sort of heavy shrubbery about ten yards from the road, with just enough trees between to block anyone’s clear view, Lee managed a series of short cat naps over the next handful of hours.  He’d always been a light sleeper, but ONI training had developed the trait even more.  He was almost positive that the small truck headed back down the road toward town, just before dawn, was the only vehicle to have traveled the road during the night.  He couldn’t be totally sure that it was the same one he’d followed up but it was for sure similar.  Nor could he tell if there was more than just the driver in the cab.  Time to find out where the road went.

 

He did spend a couple minutes pondering his options – should he simply use the road as if he were the casual hiker he claimed to be, or continue to keep himself hidden as much as possible in the woods?  Both had their advantages.  If found sneaking around there was little chance of claiming innocence.  But casual innocence made him more vulnerable to being seen and deflected from what he really needed to see.  Besides, he figured that the casual innocent act was pretty much out the window anyway since he’d already been followed.  At least twice!  So, he stayed in the woods as he made his way further up the road and into the surrounding hills.

 

The morning wasn’t without incident.  His first detour was for a small farm.  The house looked well kept, with flowers planted around it in several places and what looked to be a vegetable garden in back.  An equally neat barn with several fenced areas around it held a couple pigs, several cows, and a flock of chickens – what else might be inside, Lee had no idea.  He kept an eye out as he worked his way around the small farm but nothing about the place disturbed his original assessment and he continued on.

 

His next detour didn’t take nearly as long or force him so far from the road, but it could have been more serious.  Some sense of danger warned him just in time and he barely avoided stepping on a snake.  Taking a deep breath nonetheless, Lee quickly recognized it as being non-poisonous.  But he was just as happy to give it a wide berth.  He did send it a bit of a lopsided grin as he walked around it, hoping that it might prove to be an omen that he was at least on the right track.

 

Another half hour and it appeared that he might be right.  He came up to another small farm – this one not nearly as well kept.  In fact, it looked totally rundown and nearly abandoned as far as actual farming went.  There were no signs of any livestock around the nearly falling down shed – Lee couldn’t even call it an actual barn anymore, it was in such ruin.  The house looked almost as decrepit but a bit of smoke from the chimney showed that it was still being used by someone.  There was a not so decrepit-looking car tucked into the trees behind the house, as if whoever was there didn’t want it seen by casual passersby – assuming there was such traffic.  The only vehicle Lee had seen on the road was the small truck.

 

Lee squatted down behind a large bush and watched the house as he pondered his next move.  He definitely needed more information on who was in the house.  The question was, should he watch from here or risk getting caught by moving closer for a better chance of learning something useful.  He’d missed Fajr – the first of a Muslim’s five-a-day prayers was observed just before dawn.  The second, Dhuhr, wouldn’t occur until just after noon.  Lee wasn’t sure he could be patient that long to see how many came outside, as was frequently the custom unless they were inside a mosque.  So far Lee had been careful to make himself scarce during those times, along with the other three: late afternoon, sunset, and just before retiring.

 

He still hadn’t made up his mind about what his next move would be when the decision was taken out of his hands.  An arm around his throat was followed immediately by a severe pain in his left side.  Before he could do more than register a feeling of helpless surprise, his vision went dark and he knew no more.

 

~

 

“Lee.  LEE…” slowly penetrated the darkness.  It was a struggle but he finally managed to get an eye open.  Not comfortable with the view, he immediately closed it again.  “LEE,” was followed by hands on his shoulders giving them a firm but not overly rough shake, and this time both eyes cooperated.

 

“I gather that I spaced out again?” he guessed.  The expression on Chip’s face as his friend knelt next to him momentarily spooked even Lee. 

 

Chip took a deep breath before answering, taking one hand off Lee’s shoulder and running it through his own hair, front to back.  “Yeah,” was, however, all that he said.

 

“Sorry,” Lee told him, and meant it.  “Told you that I needed to sleep.”

 

Chip sent him a glare.  “And I told you…” he started.  Lee cut him off with a soft smile and a small flutter of one hand.

 

“Yeah,” it was his turn to mumble.  “I really need you to take a few more lessons from Jamison.”  The glare that Chip sent him for that crack would have sent any of Seaview’s crew looking for a place to hide from their forceful XO.  It only made Lee send the blond a quick grin, so used to it was he.  Before Chip could slug him hard enough to return him to an unconscious state, as Chip’s momentarily fisted hand threatened, Lee asked softly, “How long?”

 

Chip took another deep breath and sat back on his heels.  “Only a couple minutes,” he admitted.

 

“If the concussion was getting worse it would have been longer,” Lee told him.  Softly and respectfully, as Chip was still trying to control his breathing.

 

The blond’s hard look stayed in place for several more seconds, but finally it softened a bit.  “You sure about that?”

 

Lee nodded carefully.  “Head hurts,” he admitted, “but not any worse than it has been.  If there was major damage the periods of unconsciousness would be getting longer by now.  That’s why medics keep waking you up.”

 

Chip sent him another long look.  “Personal experience?”  Lee’s expression turned positively sheepish and he sent his friend a short nod.  “I still don’t like it,” Chip told him honestly, but his voice and expression were both softer.

 

“I understand,” Lee told him sincerely.

 

Chip momentarily got thoughtful.  “Any chance you spaced for a bit because that’s what happened?”

 

It took Lee a couple seconds to catch up.  “Because that’s where I was with the story,” he finally figured it out, and Chip nodded.  “Possibly,” he admitted.  He lowered his head and looked at the blond through his lashes.  “Haven’t been caught that far off guard ever.”

 

Chip almost smiled.  “A blow to your ego, for sure,” he sniped.

 

Lee tried to glare at him but Chip was way too close to the truth for Lee’s comfort.  “Not good,” he admitted.

 

“They obviously didn’t finish the job.”  The comment was casual enough but Lee could hear the slight quiver in his friend’s voice, and did his best to change it.

 

“Actually,” he admitted, “it was one of the good guys.”  Chip sent him a look of total disbelief.  “Didn’t know it at the time,” Lee told him.  “And he of course didn’t know me.  Took a bit of sorting out.”  He grinned ever so slightly.  “That’s where Ziva, ah Ms. David, came in.”

 

Chip accepted Lee’s attempt at directing him away from his concern.  Chip had almost totally freaked when Lee’s voice trailed off and his body went completely slack.  Despite his earlier whining, he’d jumped at the chance to get away from NIMR for a few days and hike with Lee.  He was so enjoying having his best friend once more in his daily sphere of influence – and where he could keep an eye on the occasionally impetuous man.  Frankly, despite the fact that Lee periodically drove Chip up the wall with his seemingly spur of the moment crazy stunts, Chip had really missed Lee’s constant presence once they’d graduated Annapolis.  They’d managed a few leaves together in the years since.  And Chip had made other friends, wherever he was stationed.  He was gregarious and fun loving, especially away from work, and enjoyed the company of other like-minded people.  But no one had ever taken the place of his ‘brother’, for that’s what Lee had become.

 

Chip was aware that Lee was one of the few people who could easily ‘read’ him – Chip had learned that he was a much more effective officer when he kept his emotions, and himself, under tight control.  He knew that Lee was aware of how the accident was affecting him, and how this latest blackout had totally unnerved the usually so under control blond.  Chip had a feeling that even Lee wasn’t all that comfortable with spacing out so badly – even if it hadn’t been for all that long.  Lee never had liked admitting that he was even slightly under the weather – just ignored pain or illness as if it didn’t exist.  Chip knew that some of his own attitude along those lines came from trying to emulate Lee.  Not that he’d ever admit that!  But still…

 

Now he decided that he needed to back off, try to keep a clear head, and not worry Lee any more than he had to.  “So…?” he queried.  He reached over, put a couple more small branches on the well-banked fire that he’d constructed, and returned to where he’d been sitting on his own sleeping bag, across the fire from Lee.

 

“So?” Lee asked, rolling onto his side to face the fire – and Chip.  He had, once Chip had let him actually lay down, laid on his back with his pack for a pillow, still semi-propped up.  Now the end of the pack kept his head in a good position to watch Chip.  He knew that he’d scared his friend badly.  He hadn’t done himself a whole lot of good either, if he was honest.  But there wasn’t the ‘feel’ to this headache that he’d had other times he’d been concussed – instances that he was trying very hard not to have to tell Chip about.  There was also not the nausea that he’d suffered on at least one of those occasions.  He’d whacked himself good and proper, he knew.  But…

 

“So, who got you out of the mess you created that time?” Chip finished the question.

 

“Ziva,” Lee admitted shyly.

 

~

 

The first sense to return to Lee was hearing.  Somewhere close by there were two people arguing.  They kept their voices low – either that or Lee’s hearing was still being clouded.  But Lee could detect strength and assertion in both voices, one male and one female.  He wasn’t sure what language they were speaking – some words sounded familiar, some didn’t.  And they were speaking very rapidly so that wasn’t helping, either.

 

The second sense to return was feeling.  He tried not to move; to not alert the two arguers that he was awake.  He had no idea if they were the only two people in his vicinity.  And, to be honest, he had no idea where ‘his vicinity’ actually was.  It felt, and smelled, like he was still in the woods, and he risked opening one eye a crack.  Still daylight.  Still woods, although he couldn’t be sure that it was still the same place that he’d been.  He was laying on his right side and the voices were behind him.  He saw no one in his line of sight and risked opening both eyes a little wider.  He couldn’t be sure but he thought that he was now deeper into the forest than he’d been – further away from the road.  And the dilapidated farm.

 

He thought that he was being totally unmoving and quiet but suddenly the voices stopped.  He quickly closed his eyes but his right shoulder was grabbed and he was roughly turned onto his back.  The movement caused a sharp pain in his left side.  He couldn’t stop the groan that escaped but he didn’t open his eyes.

 

“Who are you?” the male voice demanded in Lebanese.  Lee knew enough of the language to translate that much but chose to remain passive and didn’t respond.  Something hard jabbing the sore spot on his left side rather abruptly changed his mind.  His first sight was of a rifle butt poised to make another strike and he involuntarily cringed.  “Michel Gemayel,” he answered softly, using the name on his forged documents.  Rather belatedly he realized that he was no longer wearing his backpack and assumed that it – and he – had already been searched.

 

The man holding the rifle frowned at Lee’s answer but said nothing.  The female voice, out of his line of sight, continued the inquisition, switching to French.  “Votre vrai nom.  Vous ne parlez pas comme un natif.” (Your real name.  You do not speak like a native.) **

 

That was always a danger, going into a foreign country and trying to blend in.  While one could learn a different language it was never quite the same as if you’d grown up speaking it.  Lee chose not to answer, figuring that he’d be in just as much trouble either way.

 

He was gearing up for another smack from the rifle butt when a whistle was heard off to his left and the man froze.  The woman said something to him, very low, that Lee didn’t hear clearly enough to even try to understand.  The man yelled something in the direction of the whistle in Lebanese and quickly headed in that direction.  Lee didn’t have time to enjoy the reprieve as the woman took the man’s place.  There was no rifle in her hands but the 9-mm she was holding, pointed at Lee’s head, had the same effect and Lee froze.  As he was half-expecting, the woman was the same one he’d seen twice before.  This time, however, there was no smile on her face.  She was also dressed totally differently then the last time he’d seen her in loose shirt, man’s jacket, and cargo pants.

 

“Votre nom ou je vous fusille,” (Your name or I shoot you,) she said, once more in French.  Lee couldn’t stop himself from thinking, this broad changes languages so fast I wonder how she keeps them straight.  The thought had barely gone through his brain when there was a flash of movement and the woman was kneeling next to him, the gun having been magically replaced by a nasty-looking knife pressed menacingly against his throat.  Lee wasn’t sure that he could even swallow without cutting himself, so close was the knife blade.  He closed his eyes, flipped a mental coin – quickly, because he was pretty sure that he didn’t have a whole lot of time, and answered, opening his eyes and staring straight into hers.  “Crane,” came out, not strong but clear.  It was another of those decisions that Lee was so often criticized for making, but so often ended up turning out to have been the right thing to do at the time.  Somewhere in the back of Lee’s mind was the thought that by rights he should be dead already.  The fact that he wasn’t led him to believe that the truth just might be the right way to go.

 

He was beginning to think that he’d screwed up major league this time since it took the woman so long to react to the one word.  But finally the knife moved a fraction of an inch away from his throat.  Lee didn’t move a muscle as the woman still had the 9-mil pointed at him – just in her other hand.

 

The gun never lost its focal point but the woman sat back on her heels, obviously contemplating her next move.  Lee did nothing to interfere.  The standoff seemed to last forever, but later Lee figured that it must have only been about twenty seconds.  “American?” finally came out of the woman’s mouth in accented English, almost hesitantly.  By that time Lee’s mouth was so dry that he didn’t trust himself to answer so he merely gave her a short nod.

 

“CIA,” she practically spat out, frowning.  The frown changed to puzzlement when Lee snorted, but the movement caused a return of the sharp pain in Lee’s left side and the snort ended in a groan as he clutched at the area, just above his waist.

 

“Let me check that.”  Lee stiffened, sending her a glare.  It was her turn to snort softly.  “If we had wanted you dead you would be dead,” she told him bluntly, laid down both weapons – out of Lee’s reach – and grabbed Lee’s pack, laying close by, taking from it the first-aid kit Lee carried in a familiar enough way that Lee was sure now that he and it had been thoroughly searched prior to his regaining consciousness.

 

Lee still hesitated ever so slightly but, as the woman’s expression turned from frown to frustrated, Lee moved his hand and let her open his jacket and shirt.  Lee noticed that someone had already pressed some kind of material against whatever was causing the pain.  When the woman removed it, Lee saw a nasty-looking knife would.

 

The woman sent him a slightly sheepish look.  “Ari is not a very patient man,” she said softly, before her frown returned.  “But your snooping was not wise.”

 

“Just following orders,” Lee defended himself.

 

“Who’s?” she demanded, stopping what she was doing and sending him a glare.

 

Lee hesitated, but finally answered. “ONI.”  At her puzzled look, he expanded the title.  “Office of Naval Intelligence.”

 

She shrugged.  “You have no business here,” she told him, and went back to looking at Lee’s side.  “This needs stitches.  I will do what I can but you need to go home and have it tended to correctly.”

 

“Says who?” it was Lee’s turn to demand.  “Just who the hell do you think you are, giving me orders?”

 

That sat the woman once more back on her heels and there was a momentary standoff as each glared at the other.  Lee wasn’t sure how long that it would have lasted – he sure wasn’t about to back off.  But as he tried to raise himself more into a sitting position his side once more exploded in pain.  The hand he reached to the area this time encountered something sticky and wet, and he looked down to see a fair amount of blood.

 

“Down,” the woman ordered.  Lee hesitated but as she once more reached for his first-aid kit he complied, although his glare remained firm.

 

“Ziva David,” the woman finally told him, the accent on the second syllable of the last name.  At Lee’s reaction to that very un-Lebanese name she added, “Mossad.”

 

Lee had begun to wonder.  He thought when he’d first heard she and the man speak that some of the words sounded like Hebrew.  Also, she’d referred to him as Ari –  not a Lebanese name.  “Explains a few things,” he admitted, and then gasped as she poured water on the wound.

 

“Sorry,” she muttered.  “Ari aimed to cause pain, not permanent injury.”

 

“He did a good job,” came out around clenched teeth.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“Also following orders,” Ms. David told him.

 

“Trying to get a lead on the SAMs,” Lee guessed, not making it a question.

 

“Who is Sam?” she asked, starting to put a bandage in place.

 

Lee sent her a look of disbelief, now that some of the puzzle pieces were seemingly falling into place.  “Not who, what.  Surface-to-air missiles.  Perhaps you’ve heard of them,” he added with a sneer.

 

“You do not have to be rude,” it was her turn to sneer.

 

“And I should be all lightness and smiles after what you did.”

 

Once more there was a momentary standoff.  And once more it was broken as Lee groaned softly.  “I know nothing about any missing SAMs,” Ms. David told him as she went back to bandaging the wound.  “Ari has been able to infiltrate a group of Hezbollah rebels,” she continued.  “We are fairly sure that something big is going down but so far he has not been able to determine what.  The group he is with is being very cautious.”

 

Lee nodded.  “There was very recently word of something like two hundred SAMs having come into Lebanon by way of Syria, and then disappearing.”

 

She looked momentarily fierce.  “Not good,” she growled.

 

“Agreed,” Lee told her.  “I was tasked with trying to track down the one lead we had.”  She sent him an expectant look but Lee wasn’t quite ready to let that one go just yet.  While David seemed legit…  Lee was just a bit leery of putting all his cards on the table.  “One thing led to another,” he continued, “and…”  He shrugged.

 

“You are fortunate that it was Ari who was on guard duty this morning,” Ms. David almost scolded.  “He had seen you in town…”

 

“And the two of you followed me,” Lee interrupted.

 

“One of the group followed you,” Ms. David corrected him, “and I kept watch on you both.  I lost you – Ari found you.”  She sent him a smug look.  “If it had been one of the others you would be dead.  You are not very good.”  Lee decided that he’d not accept that challenge.

 

~

 

“I’m liking her more and more,” Chip told Lee, but there was no humor in his voice or on his face. 

 

Lee chose to ignore that challenge as well.  “Ari got lucky,” he muttered darkly.

 

“This the same guy you two mentioned on the dock?”  Chip accepted the sidestep.

 

Lee nodded.  “He’s Ziva’s half-brother.”  He got thoughtful.  “I gather there was something not quite right between Ziva and Special Agent Gibbs about him,” he said, thinking back to the meeting at the Norfolk Shipyard.

 

“Definitely something hinky there,” Chip agreed.  “Gibbs was ticked, for sure,”

 

“There was something about him losing an agent not long before?”

 

“Yeah – that could have something to do with it.”  Chip sent him a frown.  “You’re changing the subject.”

 

“Trying to,” Lee admitted with a shy smile.

 

“Harrumph,” Chip snorted, and Lee continued.

 

~

 

Ziva proved to be quite proficient at taping up wounds – nothing much could be done about the pain but the bleeding was controlled without the bandages being bulky, or bothering Lee’s movements too unnecessarily.  Also, nothing could be done about Lee’s jacket except clean it up as well as they could, but Lee did have a fresh shirt in his pack.

 

They were indeed further back into the woods, well back from the small farm.  Lee became slightly more forthcoming with what little information he’d been given as David also relaxed ever so slightly.  She didn’t say how Ari had been able to insinuate himself into the local Hezbollah group – Lee didn’t particularly care.  Apparently they thought that Ziva had recently moved to the area – had family somewhere close by which explained her recent presence in town.  She didn’t explain how Mossad had gotten word of ‘something big going down,’ and Lee didn’t ask.  Nor did he explain how ONI had heard about the SAMs.  She had raised an eyebrow, but seemed to accept that Lee was doling out intel just as carefully as she was.  He watched her carefully when he asked, almost casually, if she’d heard mention of someone called ‘Serpent.”

 

“Salah Gharib,” she confirmed instantly.  “You were watching the house he stays at when he is in Bchamoun.”

 

Lee nodded.  “Not there at the moment, apparently.”

 

“Has not been there for over a week,” she told him.  “But Ari thinks that he is due shortly – the group he is with has mentioned his name in a familiar way and they are also getting impatient, as if they are expecting action soon.”

 

“Any mention of a temple of any kind?”  Again he asked casually, but this time thought that David stiffened ever so slightly before shaking her head.  “You’re sure?” Lee gently pushed.  “The group that Ari is in cahoots with hasn’t made mention of a temple of any sort?”

 

She sent him a puzzled look.  “This group is in Bchamoun, not caw-hoots,” she drawled out the unfamiliar word.

 

Lee snickered.  “Sorry.  An American slang word – means ‘in conjunction with’ – sort of.”

 

“Oh,” she said.  “My English is not always correct.”

 

“Better than either my French or Hebrew,” Lee admitted.

 

Her head popped up.  “You speak Hebrew?”  She involuntarily glanced in the direction Ari had disappeared.

 

“Relax,” he told her with a smile.  “I thought that I recognized a word or two, but you and he were speaking much too rapidly and low for me to understand any of it.”

 

“Oh,” she repeated, but still didn’t look happy.  Lee wondered why.  “Temple is not a word heard here,” she continued, as if to change the topic.

 

Lee nodded.  “Which is another reason that when it came up, it was the sort of incongruity that raised eyebrows.”

 

“I think that you are growling at the wrong bush,” she told him bluntly.

 

“What?”

 

“Did I say it wrong again?”

 

It took Lee a second to translate her corrupted term.  “I think you mean ‘barking up the wrong tree’,” he finally guessed.

 

“Yes, that,” she nodded.  “If there were that kind of armament close by, Ari would have heard by now.  What are your orders, should you find the SAMs?” she asked.  Well, demanded, but Lee let it pass.  He’d run into Mossad personnel before – they tended to react first and not ask questions ever.  Not that he could totally blame them, given Israel’s history – or Jewish history, period, for that matter.

 

“Report,” he told her simply.

 

“And…”  She sent him a bit of a glare.

 

He sent her a small grin back.  “Not my responsibility.”

 

“You would just walk away and leave two hundred SAMs laying around?”  Her voice expressed her disgust with that thought.

 

Lee shrugged.  As he’d admitted, it wasn’t part of his assignment.  There was no telling what might actually happen, although he had no intention of telling her that.

 

“You need to go home,” she next ordered, repeating her earlier command.  “You have no business here.”

 

Lee figured that arguing with her was probably a waste of time so he shrugged again.  “We’re both following orders,” he said factually.  “I have as much right to my investigation as you do yours.”  He got a little worried when her hand reached down for the 9-mil she’d tucked back in its holster, but that’s as far as the hand went.

 

“Stay out of our way,” she threatened.

 

“Hadn’t planned on getting in your way,” he countered.

 

“What are you going to do now?” was asked with a sneer.

 

Lee hesitated.  He wasn’t actually sure.  His one lead had put him in direct conflict with Mossad – not a pleasant circumstance even though technically they were allies.  “I appear to have added to your intel, and all I’ve gotten out of it is followed, attacked, and harassed,” he did a little sneering of his own.

 

David took a deep breath, seeming to get control of herself.  “That way,” she pointed in the exact opposite direction that the man Ari had disappeared, “there is a trail that will take you toward Ain Anoub.  Go there.  I will see Ari in Bchamoun tomorrow…”

 

“You’re not afraid to be seen with him?” Lee interrupted.

 

She grinned but there was no humor in her eyes.  “The group thinks that he and I are lovers.”

 

“And you’re not?” Lee asked innocently. 

 

Her glare returned.  “He is my half-brother,” she told him.  Lee shrugged.  Her glare increased and Lee finally sent her a small smile.  It took a few seconds but she got herself back under control.  “I will tell him to listen specifically for any reference to this ‘temple.’  I will get word to you if he knows anything.”

 

“And why should I believe you?”

 

“Because I am letting you go instead of killing you myself.”

 

Lee had no intention of following her orders.  He also decided that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to tell her that right this instant.  He’d just have to be more careful and stay out of her way, as well as the group of men he’d encountered.

 

Lee had to bury a groan as he now stood up – more slowly than he had to.  There was definitely pain from the wound but he wanted to give the woman the impression that he was more sore than he really was, with the hope that he would then appear to be less of a threat.  She sent him a speculative look as she helped him on with his backpack.  “How far to this Ain Anoub?” he asked.  He was fairly sure, thinking back on the map he’d tried to memorize, that it wasn’t that far.  But asking helped him express an even more helpless, or at least less competent, attitude which hopefully would make him even less of a threat to get in her way.

 

He wasn’t sure if it worked.  Ms. David’s face was a blank mask.  A gorgeous mask, to be sure, and Lee had to carefully control his own expression.  She stared at him only a moment before answering.  “Only a couple of kilometers.  Surely you can travel that far.  It is a small village but you should have no trouble.  They occasionally get travelers hiking through from Bchamoun to the Bakaa Valley.  You can get a good meal there, and re-supply your pack.”

 

Lee knew that she totally did not understand Lee’s instant look of chagrin as he closed his eyes and shook his head – now total strangers were telling him he was too skinny.

 

~

 

“HAH!” Chip sniped triumphantly when Lee related that crack.  “Maybe one of these days it will finally sink in.  I caught Doc Jamison comparing notes with Cookie just before we left for this hike.”

 

“Geesh,” Lee muttered, which merely caused Chip to grin broadly.  “I am not skinny,” Lee insisted.  “It’s all muscle and sinew.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Chip waved off the complaint.  “So, what did you do?”

 

~

 

Lee did, actually, walk to Ain Anoub.  Once he found the trail it took him all of about twenty minutes to reach the small village.  But he paid very close attention so that, well fed and re-supplied, he returned to the small farm – carefully – just after 0100 hours.  He came at it from the other side, avoiding the guard on duty now that he was aware of just how paranoid these men were.  He was still angry with himself for being so easily outmaneuvered and attacked.  The fact that the man who nailed him was a highly trained Mossad agent made it a little easier to swallow.  But not much.  Lee considered himself to be highly trained as well.  Not nearly so…he hesitated to use the term ruthless.  But he could acknowledge that Mossad did their jobs with an entirely different attitude than he did.

 

Even at this hour there were lights on in the house, and Lee saw movement through the windows.  The newish-looking car had been joined by a newish-looking pick-up, as well as the older pick-up that he’d followed into the hills the previous day.  That thought reminded him that Jim Roche would be checking for his signal by now.  Although, as Lee had told him, it would be unexpected if Lee were actually ready to return that quickly so Jim wouldn’t start getting worried for at least another couple of days.

 

Lee decided that the little guardian angel that seemed to sit on his shoulder was still watching over him.  Where she’d been when Ari attacked, he wasn’t sure and refused to speculate.  But Lee had only been watching for about twenty minutes when lights started going out in the house.  The front door opened and one man came out – Lee couldn’t be sure but from the man’s way of walking thought that it might have been ‘friend.’  He got into the newer pick-up and was just pulling out of the drive as the last of the lights inside the house went out.  Lee watched the truck head back toward town and was contemplating his options when the truck came back, this time very slowly, it’s headlights off and making as little noise as possible as it went past the house and continued on up the road.

 

Conscious of Ms. David’s possible presence in the area, Lee stayed hunkered down in the brushy area he’d concealed himself in.  He knew for sure that his guardian angel was back when subtle movement behind him indicated someone moving through the woods, following after the pick-up.  Lee had no idea if the slight movement he caught was David or not – from Lee’s experience, Mossad tended to run operations in groups of three or four people, although sometimes they worked so independently of each other that outsiders – and in particular their ‘targets’ – didn’t realize there was, actually, a group and not just an individual.  It was entirely possible that there were more Mossad in the area than just Ms. David and her half-brother.

 

Lee didn’t think that it would be any major problem waiting for a bit to follow the pick-up.  The road past the farm became even smaller and looked less used.  Wherever the man was headed, Lee didn’t think that it could be very far.  After nearly ten minutes from the time that he’d noticed the first movement, he was about ready to follow when movement in the shadows once more caught his attention.  He never heard a thing this time.  There hadn’t been much the few minutes previous – maybe a softly snapped twig or two.  This time there was nothing; not a whisper of sound.  Lee wasn’t sure how he’d even spotted the subtle movement in the shadows except that there wasn’t enough breeze to even stir the smallest limbs of the trees or bushes.  So, a shadow that moved slowly from bush to tree to bush, as subtle as it was, caught Lee’s eye.

 

He gave the shadow a good five minutes’ head start before moving, and was ever so glad that he did.  He’d lain quietly long enough that his first wiggle sent a sharp pain through his side.  He didn’t think that he’d made a sound but had to admit that the pain had been sufficient to flood his brain just a split second, during which time he could have uttered a sound and not now be aware of it.  So, he waited an additional five minutes just to see what, if anything, happened.

 

He saw or heard nothing and was just telling himself that either he was, actually, totally alone – or whoever might be close by was even more patient than he was – when a very soft engine noise caught his attention.  Once again not using his lights, the pick-up came back from wherever he’d gone, passed the farm, and headed toward town, this time not coming back.  Lee took a long, quiet, breath and stayed where he was.  It wasn’t long before the small sounds of someone moving quietly through the trees went past him and disappeared in the direction of the other side of the farm.  Lee still waited, and very shortly the silent shadow also once more moved past his location.  That one worried Lee much more than the first.  While the first one was obviously good, the shadow was spooky-good.  Navy SEALs called them ‘ghosts’ – so highly trained as to be able to move about in almost any environment without being seen, heard, or leave any trace of a trail.  Lee had taken several training sessions with SEALs – they gave him a whole new perspective on stealth!  He hadn’t even gotten enough of a glimpse of this one to know if it was the man Ari, the woman David, or someone totally different.  Whoever it was, Lee was concerned enough to send himself to a whole new level of caution.

 

But as the farm – and his surroundings – stayed silent, Lee’s curiosity got the better of him and once more, this time very carefully, he prepared to move.  He did it in stages, one small movement at a time, and listened and watched his surroundings for several minutes in between, until he was a good ten yards from where he’d been hiding.  Not having seen or heard a thing, and while still cautious, he moved a little more freely toward what he finally realized was a dead end.  The road stopped at two huge boulders.  There appeared to be enough room between the two to walk through easily but Lee could see nothing but brush behind them.  The boulders, however, intrigued Lee - they did sort of look like the entrance to a few temples Lee had visited over the years.  But it also looked like one gigantic trap and Lee became extremely nervous, having absolutely no idea what – or who – might be beyond the brush.  However, if it was where the SAMs were being held, how the blazes did they get two hundred of them in there without being noticed?  This whole mission was getting weirder and weirder by the minute!

 

A tiny light caught Lee’s attention, then was just as quickly gone.  Lee watched the spot, behind and above the two large rocks, closely.  After another several seconds he again saw an ever so brief flash, almost like someone was smoking and the end of the cigarette flared as the smoker inhaled.  As Lee watched, the light continued to climb and eventually disappeared over the top of the hill.  Now what? he muttered to himself.  But the fact that the man had moved out of sight gave Lee the courage to investigate the small path between the boulders.

 

He did give a brief thought to there being more than one person around.  But he dismissed the thought almost as fast as it came.  There was obviously something worth guarding close by but no way could it be the SAMs Lee was after.  Perhaps a small stash of weapons and/or explosives, those being the items most used by terrorists.  Whatever it was, whoever had stashed it was going to extremes to keep its location a secret – even, apparently, from their own group.  That in itself made it worthwhile checking out.

 

Once more Lee made himself stay hunkered down for a good ten minutes.  In one respect there was the chance that the smoker would re-appear at the top of the hill, meaning Lee should move quickly before that happened.  On the other hand, perhaps the smoker kept to a semi-timed route which would give Lee more options.  On the third hand, he grumbled silently, perhaps he’s now hunkered down at the top of the hill, no longer smoking and watching both sides.  Lee flipped a mental coin, took one more look both around where he was and up the hill, and slowly, cautiously, and soundlessly, headed toward the boulders.

 

His first surprise was the brush.  While it gave the appearance at first glance of being extremely dense, perhaps having piled up between the rocks and the hill right behind it by years of wind blowing dead or uprooted bits into the void, it was in actual fact a single layer right behind the boulders that gave way to a small open spot behind.  And behind that there was an opening in the hillside, not so much cave as almost a large crawlspace.  Once more the word ‘trap’ went through Lee’s mind.  While his eyes had become accustomed to the ambient nighttime light what he could – or rather couldn’t – see beyond the opening was completely dark.

 

But his mind was rather abruptly made up for him when a small rock rolled down the hill, practically hitting him, and he ducked inside the opening to get out of sight of who he assumed was the returning smoker.  He never had that thought confirmed as whoever had dislodged the rock never came into sight or made any further noise.  Lee waited what he felt to be at least five minutes before moving cautiously further into the hole, navigating pretty much by touching hands to the sides of the tunnel.

 

He was surprised, after only moving a few feet, to find that the tunnel widened out slightly, turned a corner, and opened out into a large cavern with enough ultra-soft light that he could just make out a very large number of long rectangular-shaped crates.  Bingo, he allowed himself a smile.  Each crate was the perfect size to hold two smallish SAMs, side by side.  How the devil they’d gotten into this cavern was not immediately evident – they certainly hadn’t come in the way Lee had.  Has to be another entrance, Lee told himself, which also explained why the smoker had disappeared over the hill.

 

There was no way Lee could confirm what was in the crates – they’d make a horrific racket if he tried to pry the lid off of one unless he could find one already opened.  But he wasn’t about to go hunting, especially as he heard a noise from the other end of the cavern and he quickly looked around for a place to hide.  There wasn’t anything conveniently at hand so he retreated a few feet back into the opening he’d come through.  But no one appeared, the noise stopped, and Lee once more crept into his end of the cavern pondering his options.

 

He would like to confirm the contents of the crates but that could easily lead to him being discovered.  Not a good idea.  He could do what he’d been told to do – find the cache and report.  But that could take a couple days to get back to the boat and call in.  A lot could happen in those couple of days, either involving the cache being moved or, even more troublesome, used.  Another not good idea.  He could leave and report the location to Ms. David.  Somehow he didn’t think that he’d have any trouble finding her – more likely she’d find him.  But he wasn’t sure letting the Israeli’s deal with the weapons would be a whole lot better – they could still be used, only against different targets.  Admiral Jones hadn’t actually ordered him to merely report the location should he find the SAMs.  He hadn’t actually given Lee many direct orders beyond laying out the basic premise – only intimations.  Lee assumed that it was because Lee so often did what he felt best at the time and worried about explaining his actions later, and Jones had given up on trying to get him to do only what he was told.  Lee shrugged softly – Jones kept giving him assignments so the ONI Director couldn’t be too upset at Lee’s occasionally eclectic and unpredictable ways of dealing with any given assignment.

 

A glance at his ancient-looking pocket watch told Lee that whatever he decided, he’d better figure it out fast.  He only had another hour of total darkness outside before the skies would start brightening.  With another shrug, and a slightly evil grin, he made a few adjustments to the pocket watch and tucked it under the nearest pallet of crates.  He’d have a pretty good idea in about forty-five minutes what was in them.

 

Now the problem became getting out – and a good distance away – before the watch did what he’d told it to do.  He also took a second to bemoan the fact that he’d have to get himself a new old-looking pocket watch.  He’d actually been rather fond of that one, he’d had it so long.  He made his way quickly back to where he’d entered the tunnel, but then had to stop and ponder his next move.  If the smoker was once more on this side of the hill Lee would be a sitting duck.  Hoping to flush the man out if he were close by Lee found a small pebble and, still standing inside the tunnel, gave it a toss so that it landed with a small ‘chink’ against the top of one of the boulders.  It was a tiny sound but in the stillness of pre-dawn it was still quite audible, at least to Lee.  He waited what he considered to be a sufficient amount of time, tossed another pebble at the other boulder, still didn’t get any reaction whatsoever, and slowly crept out of the tunnel.

 

Unfortunately for Lee that got a reaction.  The sound of a shot almost perfectly coincided with the side of Lee’s face being hit with a splatter of rock chips.  He barely had time to react when the next shot was accompanied by a sharp pain in his left thigh.  He pretty much only had two options, and neither one was appealing.  He could try to get through the boulders and back into the woods.  Considering the shooter’s aim so far Lee had a feeling that he’d never make even that short a distance.  His closest protection was back into the tunnel but in there he was also a sitting duck – the shooter only had to wait for reinforcements.  Of course, Lee knew what the shooter didn’t – depending on when reinforcements got there, there was every possibility that the whole cavern, plus the hill itself, would no longer be there!

 

But as another shot rang out, this one just nicking Lee’s right calf, Lee knew that he couldn’t stay where he was.  At least headed for the woods he stood more of a chance of escaping than he did in the tunnel so he prepared a short, zigzag sprint forward.  He hadn’t gone two feet when something very heavy and very solid landed on his back, knocking him flat.  The concussion pushed every bit of air out of his lungs and it was all he could do for the next seconds to try and suck some air back in.  He couldn’t even raise an arm to defend himself and just knew that the short breath he did manage to get in was probably going to be pretty much his last!

 

~

 

“And do I even have to ask who saved your skinny butt that time?” Chip asked with a slight sneer.

 

Lee looked at his friend, sitting across from him, the light from their small fire and a fairly bright moon the only illumination now that night had fallen.  “Ziva,” he admitted shyly.

 

“She’d followed you without you having a clue.”  There was just a bit of growl in his voice.

 

“She’s good.”

 

“Harrumph,” Chip sputtered which, instead of ticking Lee off as often happened when the blond was haranguing Lee about a slight booboo the brunet might have made, this time merely caused Lee to grin.  Mostly because he knew that the smile would bug his friend even more – he so enjoyed having his ‘brother’ around him again on a more permanent basis.  And like true brothers, the pair would yank each other’s chain at pretty much every opportunity they got.

 

“I need to sleep,” Lee whined, just to egg things along even further.  There was absolutely no way Chip was going to let him stop his story at this point.  “You need your rest, too,” Lee told him honestly.  “You’ve had to do most of the work, and probably will be doing a lot of it tomorrow as well.”  His only answer being as nasty a look on Chip’s face as he’d ever seen, made even more evil-looking because of the flickering light from the flames of the fire, Lee wisely continued the story.

 

~

 

At some point Lee realized that he’d lost track of what was happening.  The weight was no longer on his back, pressing his chest and face into the hard ground.  In fact he was no longer lying face down, he belatedly realized, and opened his eyes.

 

“You do not follow orders very well,” Ms. David growled at him.

 

“Depends on who’s giving them,” Lee growled back, and tried to rise into a sitting position.  She shoved him back with a slap to his shoulder and went back to what his returning senses now realized was trying to bandage Lee’s two new injuries.  But Lee suddenly realized where they were as he looked around and spotted a body lying close by – they were still between the boulders and the tunnel.  “How much time?” he demanded and again tried to sit up, this time knocking away her hand as she once more started to push him back.  She merely glared at him so he repeated his demand, slowly and succinctly.

 

She continued to glare but finally answered.  “Only about five minutes.”

 

Lee quickly calculated, realizing that he probably still had nearly half an hour.  Perhaps a bit less since he wasn’t totally sure how much he’d used up in his wasted effort to draw out the guard.  “We need gone,” he told her firmly.

 

“You are still bleeding,” was her muttered response.  “And I want to see what is in there.”  She waved a hand at the tunnel entrance.

 

“The bleeding can wait until we’re further away.  A lot further,” he added softly.  “And we don’t have time for you to go exploring.  We need to leave.  NOW,” he added forcefully.

 

“Why?” she challenged.

 

“Before reinforcements show up,” he came up with a logical answer without really answering.  “Unless you’d rather continue to shoot your way through the bad guys.”

 

“I did not shoot him,” David answered, and patted the very dangerous-looking knife she was carrying on her belt at her left hip.

 

“Oh.”  Lee glanced once more at the body laying half on its side, half on its face, and turned away from Lee.  He had a feeling that he was just as glad that he couldn’t see the man’s throat.  “We need gone,” he repeated.

 

The Mossad agent took a deep breath and seemed to ponder her options, but finally stood up and offered Lee a hand.  He didn’t accept it, choosing to come to his feet on his own despite the two new pains now screeching in harmony with the knife wound, and headed between the boulders and back into the woods.  David hesitated, glancing once more toward the tunnel, but finally followed.

 

Having no way to judge time, Lee moved as rapidly as he could in what he thought was the best direction – deeper into the woods and between the old farm and Ain Anoub.  But slowed by his injuries, when the blast came both he and Ms. David were thrown face down on the ground by the concussive force of two hundred SAMs plus whatever else had been stored in the cavern exploding in close succession with each other.  Trees were blown down just behind them, branches falling on both Lee and David but thankfully only causing bruising, not serious damage.

 

As they both crawled out from under the rubble David gave Lee a speculative look.  “Am I to assume that you have now completed your assignment and will leave?”  It came out waspishly.

 

Lee grinned softly.  “Perhaps not totally how my superiors would have preferred,” he admitted.  “But it seemed appropriate at the time.”

 

David looked in the direction of where the cavern had been.  Lee was surprised that the blast hadn’t set off a massive forest fire – he hadn’t considered that outcome at all until now, and shook his head at his own stupidity.  “I do not think that my fa…” she cut herself off and glanced at Lee.  “Superiors,” she substituted the word Lee had used for whatever she had been about to say, “will be all that pleased, either.  However,” she dusted herself off, “one cannot cry over a dead cow,” she said philosophically.

 

Lee thought for a second before his eyes brightened.  “Cry over spilled milk, I think you mean.”

 

“Why would one cry over spilled milk?” she asked him.  “Is not a dead cow much more serious than just a little milk?”

 

“Good point,” Lee agreed, but he still smiled.

 

( ) “What is done, is done,” she said in Hebrew.  They both at the same time heard engines racing up the small road and instinctively headed in the opposite direction as fast as Lee could travel.  David seemed to know where she was going so Lee let her take the lead.  She started rapidly but slowed her pace as she realized Lee wasn’t keeping up.  While Lee was doing the best that he could, he still marveled at how easily the woman could travel without making a single sound.  It was a bit disconcerting.  And humbling to a man like Lee, who prided himself on his competence.

 

Lee wasn’t quite sure where he was when she finally stopped walking and indicated that Lee should sit down.  He hesitated but at her glare complied, and stayed silent as she finished wrapping his two new wounds.  The one on his calf required little more than a simple wrap around the leg – it had barely grazed him and had already stopped what little bleeding it had actually done.  The one in his thigh, just above the knee, thankfully hadn’t hit anything vital.  He did cringe slightly when the knife somewhat magically appeared in David’s hand.  But she merely put a slit in his pants big enough that she could cover both the entrance and exit wounds with medicated gauze pads and wrap several layers of tape all the way around Lee’s leg.  Then it was her turn to watch as Lee closed the slit with a piece of duct tape from a small roll he carried in his backpack.  “Never leave home without it,” he told her with a grin as he returned the roll to the pack.

 

She shrugged and then pointed off to the right.  “Another kilometer and you will find the road to Ain Anoub.  Turn left down the hill and you will soon be in Bchamoun.  Do not stay there long; I do not believe that it will be safe for you there any longer.”

 

“Understatement of the century,” Lee said mostly to himself, but nodded.  “I think that it might be a wise move to avoid as many actual roads as I can, and stay to the woods as much as possible.”

 

“Where do you need to get to?”  It was a simple question but Lee hesitated giving her a straight answer, just on general principles.

 

“Near Khalde,” he finally told her, figuring that was a safe enough answer.  She might think that he was headed for the Beirut airport located between the capital and the town of Khalde when in fact he was headed further south, to the quiet section of coast where his exit from Lebanon would hopefully go as quietly as his entrance.

 

She nodded.  “There is enough cover between here and there that you should have little trouble.  But,” she warned, “those wounds will need attending to shortly.”

 

Lee nodded.  He knew that she was warning him to leave quickly, before they might run afoul of each other again, but he only smiled.  “I’ll be fine,” he assured her.

 

~

 

“You and your ‘fine’,” Chip growled.  “One of these days, when you use that line, I’m going to shove it…”

 

“Uh, uh, uh,” Lee grinned at him.  “Rank still has its privileges.”

 

“Depends on the circumstances,” Chip muttered back.  But he also sent Lee a small smile.  “That was the last you saw of Ms. David until Norfolk?”

 

Lee nodded.  “Saw or heard anything about.  Definitely not where I expected to run into her again.”

 

“So I gathered.”  Chip’s grin spread.  “Obviously a surprise for her as well.”

 

“Yeah,” Lee agreed, remembering the small scene the pair’s greetings had caused, embarrassing Lee no end.  He hadn’t realized it at the time but the exchange of hugs had been seen not only by Chip and Admiral Nelson, but also by several members of Seaview’s crew who had been working on the dock at the time.  The story had made the rounds among the rest of the crew very quickly.  “Guess I need to find a reason to head for DC.  If we can ditch that obnoxious DiNozzo maybe I can find out what really happened.”  He sent Chip a leer.  “Among other things,” he added softly.

 

Chip leered back before they both grinned.  “It will have to wait until you get out of Doc Jamison’s clutches for this latest oops.”  He laughed when Lee groaned theatrically.  “No trouble getting back to Sea Horse?” he got back to the story.

 

Lee shook his head.  “The only trouble was trying to explain to Admiral Jones why I blew up half a mountain – the Lebanese were not overly thrilled with what they found in the rubble.”

 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time?” Chip offered.

 

“Sorta like this hiking trip,” Lee nodded.  “Didn’t exactly go quite as planned.”

 

“No biggy,” Chip told him with a smirk.  “Now you’ll have all sorts of time with the new CMO to get everything sorted out so there won’t be anymore misunderstandings between the two of you.”

 

“Swell,” Lee muttered, to Chip’s chuckles.

 

* * * *

 

 

 

 

 

 *see “Sweet,” by R. L. Keller

**Translations by Google Translator – I don’t speak French J