JAG

Don't think I'd call the police quite yet.

Simon?

Sarah.

What the hell are you doing here?

Saving your life.

Find what you were looking for?

This is not my handiwork.

I'm trained to leave no trace when I'm gone.

We need to talk.

Yeah, I'd say so.

Considering this is my house and I didn't invite you here, you're lucky I didn't shoot you.

Well, you wouldn't be the first woman who had, Sarah.

And who did this?

The chap I met downstairs at your front door.

He was on the way out as I was on the way in.

Oh, and he just happened to mention in passing that he had trashed my apartment.

I'd seen him before.

Where?

Surveillance tapes.

Taken at the British Embassy in Nairobi just before he escaped.

He assassinated the undersecretary.

The odd-wanted poster.

He's a hired killer, born with the name Peter Tyrook, Belgian.

I casually asked him for the time, and I got this for my trouble.

Apparently, Le Faucon did not appreciate my query.

Le Faucon?

His nickname.

The Hawk.

We need to get you cleaned up.

Come on.

Take off your shirt.

You know, I can patch you up temporarily, but you might need stitches.

There's an excellent emergency room at George Washington University Hospital.

Can't do it, Sarah.

Too many questions.

Besides, you've got a lovely soft touch.

Not once you get to know me.

Oh.

So what did you want to talk to me about?

Clayton Webb.

What on the grapevine is, is that he died at sea, while on mission to Indonesia.

Apparently, his death was a freak accident, an act of God.

Last few months, I've been working in Jakarta.

Dealing with the Abu Sayyaf Terror Network?

Precisely.

Recently, two of Webb's in-country Indonesian contacts have been tortured and murdered.

Not an act of God, but the apparent handiwork of God.

The hawk?

I didn't know that for sure until today, but it doesn't surprise me.

Rumors are that Webb was going to meet with him.

In Indonesia?

Yes.

The hawk sells his services to the highest bidder.

So maybe Webb was on the way to Jakarta to do business with him.

If I were a betting man, I would say it was an intended double cross, and the hawk was Webb's target.

What does this have to do with me?

There's a pattern, Sarah.

The hawk is after anyone who is close to Webb, such as yourself.

Why?

Best guess?

Find out what Webb's mission was in Indonesia.

Whether he penetrated the Abu Sayyaf network.

What were their plans?

What was he up to the night he went missing?

Anyone with that information is in danger.

Well, I don't have the answers to those questions.

Clay never told me about his work.

Smart.

I don't know a lot of him, but the hawk does not know that.

So they want the secrets that he took with him to his grave.

Wrong.

They want Webb.

Webb is dead, Simon.

I think he's alive.

Based on what?

The cover story is thin and there's something in the wind.

And by reputation, Webb is a sly fox.

Because every day I'm more certain of it.

Give me facts, Simon.

I don't have facts, Sarah.

Just a gut instinct.

And what happened here tonight confirms my suspicions.

If Webb is alive, why hasn't he come to me?

I'm sure there's a good explanation for that.

Thank you for your warning, Simon.

Where can I contact you?

Right here.

I can take care of myself.

I'll help you pick up, Sarah.

Come morning, I'll make you a perfect spot of tea.

Besides, two guns are always better than one.

Krennic?

That's the scuttlebutt, sir.

She's been on the fast track for years.

She's held all the right billets.

St. Pack S.J.A., Assistant Jag for Civil Affairs.

I'll take it you disapprove, sir.

I'm just not so sure Krennic has the correct temperament to be Judge Advocate General.

Well, you know, people mellow, sir.

And her appointment could be very good for your career, sir.

Captain Krennic always favored you.

She is the only woman who ever chased me around a desk.

Then-Commander Krennic admired then-Lieutenant Rabb's skills.

In the courtroom, one presumes.

Commander Turner expects.

To see all of us in 15, sir?

Yeah.

I don't know what the hell Secnav was thinking making him acting jag.

Well, I like working with Commander Turner, sir.

He's organized.

He has good follow-through.

I agree with Bud.

He's got us doing scout work, Mac, not writing the big cases.

Would you rather he chased you around a desk?

Well, you don't seem to have lost any spirit.

I mean, considering.

Considering what?

You know, your condition.

I'm dealing.

I just don't want anyone else to know I am.

All right.

How you doing, anyway?

Swell.

No pain?

Getting better.

That's good news.

Let's hope.

Because you know what?

I've been doing a lot of research on endometriosis.

It's just scar tissue.

It can be removed.

Most of it was.

Because there's a lot of information out there, Mac.

I mean, there's, like, tons of websites, books, literature.

Harm.

It's too much.

Too soon.

Just let me come to you.

Oh.

Okay.

When do you think that that might happen?

When I'm ready.

You're all right, though?

Yeah.

You're briefing the CNO on the FY05 budget at $1,600.

You'll need to allot 45 minutes travel time to the Pentagon.

If you don't mind my saying so, sir, I think this job fits you like a glove.

I'll take that as a compliment.

Coming from you, Petty Officer.

Sir, I'd imagine that a lot of officers would resent the paperwork, the dull

routine, and the mindless bureaucracy, but it doesn't seem to bother you at all.

Enter.

You wanted to see us, sir.

Yes, good morning.

Good morning, all.

Firstly, I'll need the 05 budget numbers by 1100.

Enter.

Next, I've divided the JAG instructions into four sections.

Each of us will review one section preparatory to a meeting tomorrow to discuss updates and cancellations.

This is make-work, Sturgis.

What about the open cases?

We work on those as well.

Please allocate your time wisely.

Thank you.

You got a minute, Commander?

Sure.

Will you close the hatch on your way out, please, Coates?

Aye, sir.

I need to talk to you about Webb.

Well, I'll be glad to listen, Mac.

I, uh, I know you've been through a lot.

I don't need a friendly ear, Sturgis.

I need hard facts.

What really happened aboard the USS Thomas Lyons the night Webb was reported dead?

I can't talk about the mission.

It's classified.

Top secret died with him.

You know better.

Did you see Webb's body?

No.

But you know it was recovered?

I didn't see that happen.

Webb was CIA, Mac.

They have their own way of doing things.

So what, did you just throw up a black star on the wall and call it a day?

I know what kind of pressure you're under.

What mission was he on?

Who were the men he was with?

What really happened that night, Sturgis?

I can't help you, Colonel.

Clay, Clay, it's me.

Talk to me.

Please.

You shouldn't be here, Colonel.

In all our dealings, Laurie June, did you ever once tell me the truth?

I told you what I was told to tell you.

By Webb?

By anyone above my pay grade, and that was just about everybody.

Including now.

I'm no longer on the payroll.