| Subject: ...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 24b, part three |
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TxJAG_b
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Date Posted: 08:47:30 11/30/07 Fri
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TxJAG_b
's message, "...For Meritorious Service" on 09:04:26 05/08/07 Tue
A/N: Thanks to my beta-trio Karen, Janlaw, and Mary Ann for their help with this 'segue' chapter'. :) And to Mkim for helping me figure out Faith Coleman.
2048 Hours Local
NCIS Headquarters Office/CID
After Regional Investigative Coordinator Phillips was lead away by the Marine MPs, Gibbs moved over to Faith Coleman and spoke to her in a quiet, but firm voice.
“A word, Commander.”
Faith Coleman had no idea what Gibbs wanted, but she could tell he was angry.
They moved to an adjacent office and went in, with Gibbs closing the door behind them. She had seen this happen before. With DiNozzo, with Pacci, and with Special Agent Blackadder. He only blew up at his agents if they weren’t in the public eye. Now it was her turn.
Gibbs didn’t waste time with a preamble. He was blunt and cutting. “What the hell did you think you were doing?!”
Faith considered many responses in the brief time before she spoke, but she decided that a practical answer was the best bet…it would defuse the situation.
“I took a calculated risk,” she said as if presenting her argument before a jury, “I knew that if I didn’t, we might not be able to catch Special Agent Phillips--”
“You call that a calculated risk?!” he barked like a seasoned DI. “I call that suicide! You overplayed your hand when you told him you could edit it! All he had to do was ask you how you edit it and he wouldn’t need you anymore!”
Before she could say anything else in her defense, he gave her a swift glancing slap to the back of her head.
“Ow!” she yelped as she shot him a nasty look. “I *will break off* your arm the next time you try that!” she hissed.
The gray haired senior NCIS agent gave her an equally spiteful look with his steel blue gray eyes. “You pull a stunt like that again, and I will *kill* you myself,” he said softly in that quiet voice of his that could send chills up your spine…and not the good ones, either.
Faith however was only a little disturbed by his comment. She was about to fire back with a snotty retort when there was a knock on the door. Gibbs gave her one last glare as he moved over to open it. Sturgis Turner was standing there at the entryway, eyeing the two of them.
“Is everything all right in here?”
Gibbs looked over at Commander Coleman then back at the Bubblehead. “I’ll let the Commander tell you. She likes to do things on her own!”
“That was uncalled for, Special Agent,” Faith in a cool voice.
Sturgis tried to play broker between what was obviously two very angry people. He had done it a thousand times before with clients. This shouldn’t be too hard.
“Hey, hey, calm down, you two. No one got killed….”
“Not this time,” Gibbs said harshly, giving her another hard stare.
No, it wouldn’t be like handling clients, it would be worse; like handling two wildcats.
The Bubblehead knew that NCIS Agents by nature were supposed to be gruff and abrupt and Gibbs, he knew, had a reputation for being gruffer and more abrupt than most. But his comment did seem uncalled for. “Special Agent Gibbs--” he began.
Only to be cut off the Head of the Washington, DC Major Case Response Team. “She’s part of *my* team, Commander Turner. “She obeys my rules, or she’s off *my* team!”
Commander Coleman wasn’t fazed by his threat. She had one of her own ready. “That is fine by me! And just so you are aware of the fact, Special Agent, I’m preferring charges against you--!”
“Feel free to do so, Commander,” he shot back in that calm, stern voice that was frightening and infuriating at the same time. “But you’ll find that since you are part of my team, what I say, goes.”
Faith’s lips became a hard, thin line. “Commander--!”
Sturgis looked from the senior NCIS agent to the JAG/NCIS liaison. “I’m afraid I have to agree with Special Agent Gibbs, Commander.”
He turned to her, addressing his comments to the junior officer. “You are under his command right now, Commander, even if you still do report to Admiral Chegwidden,”
“Besides, what you did was pretty foolish.”
“Foolish?!” She couldn’t believe it.
Sturgis’ voice became out hard, tinged with just the right amount of anger. “Commander, you went into an isolated room with a suspected felon and then you proceeded to bait him to the point he would try to do you harm. Does the word ‘entrapment’ mean anything to you?”
Faith began backpedaling. “Sir, I did as we had agreed. I talked to him indicating I knew about the discrepancies between his reports and the official reports.”
“Yes that you did very well. But neither Special Agent Gibbs, nor I, sanctioned you tell him you were going to talk to senior officers or edit that document yourself.”
“I admit that was a calculated risk, sir,” Faith stated firmly. Maybe a little too firmly. “But in order to make Phillips show his hand, I reasoned I had to do it.”
“During an undercover operation, you cannot be a lone wolf, Commander,” Sturgis voice signaling his displeasure with her actions. It was typical Turner, calm and reasoned responses becoming more irritated every time she didn’t get the point.
“What would have happened if there had been a communication malfunction, or if he had found your wire?”
Faith had not stopped to think about that. She was so intent on showing Gibbs how good of an undercover person she could be--
Her internal debate was shattered by the indignant Commander Turner who was now on a roll. He had gone back to how her actions might have cost them the arrest. “Commander Coleman, it’s only because *we* found a loaded service weapon in the desk drawer – which he had *his hand on* when *we* entered-- that enabled *us* to arrest him. That, and the incriminating conversation you two had had up to that point!”
Despite his anger with her, she had to try to make him see her point of view, “Commander Turner, if you’ll just--!”
“Commander, I strongly suggest, that in the future you follow Special Agent Gibbs’ orders when you are part of his team. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes sir.” She replied with a slight tremble in her voice.
*~*
Special Agent Gibbs walked out the office and back into the staff bullpen headed for the exit. It had been a long night and he didn’t want to dwell on too deeply on why he had reacted so harshly to Faith Coleman’s actions.
But his mind wouldn’t let it go. He had seen this kind of thing go badly once before. When he was still a Probie under Mike Franks, his former boss.
**~~**
“Probie! Walters is down!!”
“I got the tango in my sights Boss!”
In his minds eye, Gibbs’ could see Special Agent Clarissa Walters laying sprawled on the pavement. Next to her through his rifle’s crosshairs was the wounded tango. He couldn’t even remember the thug’s name now.
The next moment his rifle kicked into his shoulder, and the tango’s head bucked just before he fell from his kneeling position onto his back.
He remembered Mike rushing over to Clarissa’s still form, cradling it in his arms.
“C’mon Clarissa, don’t do this to me….” Mike moaned as he held the pretty woman in his arms.
**~~**
He remembered laying his hand on Mike’s shoulder. He hoped this would never happen to him. That’s why he dug into the Lieutenant Commander so hard.
It was not something he wanted to see again. He didn’t want to be the one holding a dead agent in his arms. Mike had never been the same after that and he felt sure he didn’t feel the same either. And he never wanted to be in that position. Especially with her. He didn’t know why, but he just didn’t. End of story.
Right now, he had to get out of this office. He wanted to interrogate Phillips as soon as possible. That’s where his thoughts were when he saw Sturgis at the door talking with an SP.
Sturgis turned and silently acknowledged Gibbs before turning back to the SP.
“That will be all, Petty Officer.”
The PO came to attention and responded with an ‘aye sir’ before heading down the hall away from the two men.
“You handled that pretty well.”
“You mean the SP?” Sturgis was confused by his ‘out-of-the-blue’ comment.
“No, I meant how you ‘talked’ to Commander Coleman about her behavior.” Gibbs remarked.
“I find a soft spoken approach mixed with the right amount of ‘officer indignation’ works wonders.” Sturgis Turner said evenly. “Harm once said I’d make a good school hall monitor and I think the Admiral is thinking of me as a supervisor of sorts….”
“You mean for Lieutenant Roberts?” Gibbs said as they began walking together.
“In a way, yes,” Sturgis said as he turned more thoughtful, “But also as a steadying influence in the office….”
Gibbs had no idea how carried away Sturgis had become with his ‘steadying influence’ while Harm was flying for the CIA. At several points, many in the bullpen thought that Sturgis and Mac were going to come to blows over more than a few cases.
Sturgis regretted that things were still rocky between him and Mac; it was something he wanted to work on as soon as this case was over.
“I take it you’re referring to Commander Harmon Rabb, Junior.” Gibbs’ comment brought him back to the current conversation.
Sturgis grimaced as if he had smelled something bad. “Actually both him and Colonel MacKenzie….”
Gibbs’ eyebrows went up. A direction they rarely went. “Really….”
The Bubblehead nodded. “Both are given to fits of irrationality,” Sturgis said, his voice weary, as he remembered vividly the ‘which JAG stays’ incident aboard the Seahawk when Bud was badly injured by that anti-personnel mine.
Gibbs could see now that Commander Sturgis Turner had been the ‘man in the middle’ for a while…maybe too long a while. With two explosive personalities like Rabb and MacKenzie, that had to be grinding.
“So you’re not much for staying there,” Gibbs concluded. He liked Sturgis.
But if he thought Sturgis was ready for a change, the former Dolphin’s next answer tossed him. “On the contrary, Special Agent, I really enjoy it. Harm and Mac are my best friends….”
Now it was Gibbs’ turn to be confused. “But you just said….”
“We all have feet of clay,” Sturgis said. He suddenly realized he was talking about himself as well.
“Admiral Chegwidden knew what he was doing when he put our various personalities together. We clash sometimes, we even do unorthodox, and some might say bizarre things to get the job done. But we do get the job done.”
They both stopped in front of the interrogation room where Gibb’s friend, the Master Sergeant was standing with an SP. They were positioned on either side of the door.
“How is he?”
“Not ready for you, Gunny.” The big African-American said with a smirk.
Gibbs gave the Master Sergeant a faint smile in return. “Make sure no one interrupts us.”
“You got it, Gunny.”
*~*
Former RIC Sedrick Phillips glanced around the room nervously. Many times he had been on the other side of this table, interrogating suspects. But he had never been on this side.
Stay calm, he told himself. They only have circumstantial evidence on you right now, if you handle this smoothly, you can get out with a reprimand about your reports and a warning about not following procedures….
Then he would make that JAG officer pay for her insolence.
Sedrick was already making plans about what he was going do with Commander Coleman when Special Agent Gibbs wrenched open the door and strode into the room, followed by Commander Sturgis Turner.
Gibbs was holding a thick folder. Sturgis walked over to the far wall and stood facing the two men.
The silver haired Special Agent didn’t say a word as he reached into the folder and began slapping down papers on the table in front of former RIC Phillips. There were stapled multi-page documents interspersed with photographs of people. The photos had obviously been taken as part of autopsy reports.
“Who is your contact?” Gibbs said as he sat down opposite Phillips.
“What?”
Gibbs enunciated slowly as if talking to a slow person. “Who…is…your…contact?”
Phillips cleared his throat. “Special Agent Gibbs, I know my rights--”
A patronizing smile flitted across Gibbs’ features. “Did you hear that, Commander? *former* Regional Investigative Coordinator Phillips knows *his* rights.”
Sturgis chuckled, not moving from his spot. “I’m sure he does, Special Agent.”
Gibbs turned back to Phillips. “Then you also know, Sedrick, that you are accused of being involved with the Iraqi insurgent movement?”
The RIC’s eyes widened. “The insurgent movement?! That is insane--!”
I looked believable, but Gibbs wasn’t buying. “Is it, Sedrick?”
“Do not call me that,” the former RIC said coldly.
This was not the man that Gibbs remembered. It was almost as if another person were inside of Sedrick Phillips. That’s what they said about sleeper agents. They could even fool their own mother.
“Call you what?” grunted Gibbs.
There was an aire of disdain in the RIC’s voice. Like he was dealing with two people unworthy of his attention. “Refer to me by my last name if you must, but do not use my first name….”
Gibbs chuckled and shook his head. “You talk to him,” he said to Sturgis.
Commander Turner walked over to the table. “Special Agent Phillips, you really aren’t in any sort of position to dictate anything to us.” The former Dolphin rumbled ominously.
Again Sedrick made it look like he was the victim. “Look Commander Turner, I know I screwed up some reports, I’m willing to take responsibility for that--”
Gibbs cut him off, coming back at him hard. “How about for the deaths of Lieutenant Dodge and Captain Butler? PFC Krivstad? Are you willing to take responsibility for those?”
Again Sedrick widened his eyes, trying to look like a frightened animal. “I don’t know anything about their deaths--!”
He looked to Sturgis, hoping to find that a brother would be more sympathetic to him.
But Sturgis had dealt with traitors many times before. To him, a traitor was a traitor. “Special Agent, I believe you were the lead investigating agent on the deaths of Lieutenant Dodge and PFC Krivstad. Tell me why you wrote your reports the way you did and we’ll see about a deal….”
Sedrick Phillips would not find any sympathy from Chaplin Turner’s son.
While Sturgis and Phillips traded basically worthless information, Gibbs looked at his PDA. He had to do something while waiting his turn. For the life of him, he never could get the hang of these things…then a message appeared on his screen.
It was from Tony.
‘CDR Lexington’s JAGMAN team worked w/ Phillips…coerced team into falsifying report…’
Gibbs pulled out the PDA’s stick pencil and wrote in big block letters ‘WHERE ARE YOU?’ Then he hit send. He wanted to see if Tony would tell him he went to Bahrain without permission.
His PDA screen remained blank. No response from Anthony DiNozzo to that query.
Gibbs looked back at Sturgis. The former Dolphin backed away from the table “I can’t help you Special Agent Phillips, if you won’t give me something to work with….”
“Captain Branch said to say hello, Sedrick,” Gibbs said quietly.
For the first time, Sedrick Phillips looked unnerved. “Who? I don’t know what you are talking about--!”
“The head of Commander Lexington’s JAGMAN team, Special Agent,” Gibbs leaned over the table and into Sedrick Phillips’ face. “You know, the man you forced to falsify evidence regarding Lieutenant Dodge’s death and then when it started to come apart, you hung him and his JAGMAN team out to dry? Does that sound familiar to you, *Special Agent*?”
Sedrick’s comment was borne of desperation. “You’ll never be able to prove that,’ he sputtered weakly.
Now it was Sturgis’ turn. “We have the doctored reports in your handwriting. The 36th MEU’s Head Surgeon has confessed that he helped you blackmail the JAGMAN team and alter the report on PFC Krivstad’s death…we even have a couple of insurgents who finger you as PFC Secord’s accomplice.”
Sedrick Phillips looked from the JAG Corps officer to the NCIS Agent. It was over for him. The former RIC bowed his head and his shoulders sagged.
“I want guaranteed immunity,” he said quietly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harm felt his body shred apart as the SAM hit his Tomcat.
His final thought before darkness overtook him:
(I love you Mac.…)
HARM! OH DEAR GOD!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bark of Mac’s voice made aviator/lawyer awake with a start. His heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest. The image that swam into his vision was that of an aviator peering into his bunk.
“Hey Commander, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost….”
Not so much seen a ghost as almost become one, Harm wanted to say. Instead, he wisely bit his tongue and swallowed that comment. He could still feel the imaginary shards of shrapnel in him. Why was it so real?
What was the connection between these bizarre dreams and what Mac was seeing in her nightmares? Was there a link of some sort? Could Mac really be seeing his death?
He decided now was not the time to think too deeply about the dream. He was on dawn patrol this morning and anything that screwed with his concentration could really make him a dead man.
Harm looked up at the Lieutenant who was now taking off his shoes and then at his watch. It was 2307.
“I didn’t catch your name….”
The aviator gave Harm what he thought was an embarrassed smile. “Sorry sir.” He stuck out his hand. “Lieutenant Jeff Rodriguez, everyone calls me ‘Pitcher’.
They shook hands. “Pitcher?”
There was that embarrassed smile again. Something was familiar about this guy’s face. “Um, yeah. Played in the minor leagues for a while before becoming an aviator.”
“Not meaning to be nosy, but why are you just now coming to bed?”
Jeff carefully got into the top bunk. “Was on the last COD bringing reserve pilots out to the carriers. Then we had to get our physicals. I’m just glad I’m going to get this much sleep. They put me on mid-morning patrol.”
“How many came in?”
“Six of us, sir.” Lieutenant Rodriguez’s drifting voice reported. “We were the last of the pilots that answered the call-up….”
Harm didn’t hear anything else from the Lieutenant, who must’ve fallen asleep. He decided that unless he wanted to be bleary eyed for his dawn patrol, he’d better get back to sleep too, if he could.
BOQ/VOQ, Camp Chest Puller
Near Mirbullah, Iraq
The helo ride back to Mirbullah had been without any attempt at conversation on Faith’s part. She sat stone-like in her seat. Gibbs and Sturgis had sat close enough together to discuss what to do next with Sedrick Phillips. He would not be flown south until morning.
When the CH-46 Sea Knight had landed at the ACE airfield at the Camp, Faith told both men she was headed to her quarters, saluted Commander Turner and moved out smartly.
Faith Coleman had learned over the years to hide her emotions and she was very good at it, but this time a single tear found its way down her cheek. Because it was early morning, she thought no one would notice.
She headed directly to her housing. Opening the door, she walked to the table and placed her briefcase squarely in the center. Her room, despite the conditions of this dusty area, was immaculate. A visitor with a smart mouth might say you could eat off her floor.
Faith swiped at a second tear that tried to make its way down her flushed cheek. Right now she wanted out of these clothes and she wanted to be clean.
She grabbed her running gear, her soap, a loofah sponge, a back brush and headed for the communal showers. When she got in, she scrubbed carefully, trying to remove the last bit of grit from her body. In her mind, she ran over the nights’ events again and again, reliving the scary meeting with RIC Phillips and her fateful conversation with him. Then her argument with Special Agent Gibbs.
Gibbs! Her anger flared each time she thought about him slapping her and the way she had dressed him down. The worse part about that was that he was right – although the smack to the back of the head was overkill. At least in her mind.
Then she re-lived the dressing down and humiliation she had felt when Commander Sturgis Turner admonished her for reckless behavior. The worst part was he was right, as well. It was reckless behavior.
Having finished her shower, she turned off the lukewarm water and began toweling off. As soon as her body was dry, she wrapped a second towel around her torso and began scrubbing her hair dry. When that was done she carefully wrapped her hair in another towel. Despite her precise actions, her mind was still focused on finding out the reason for her inattentiveness when it came to her personal safety.
Why was she acting this way? It had started in Falls Church when she had grabbed that female terrorist. She had never been one for foolish stunts. She was logical person. At her last duty station, NLSO & TSO West near North Island NAS, she’d won her battles with arguments, not physical exertion.
So why, in the last week had she acted like a commando? Was it due to the events at JAG Corps Headquarters? A lot of people had strong reactions to what happened. That was predictable, even expected. It could explain her actions. But it didn’t. Although the loss of 17 Naval and Marine personnel was heart wrenching, she didn’t know any of them personally or otherwise.
So that brought her back to her original question. As she put on her running shorts and
t-shirt and tied her hair in a loose pony tail, she thought back to what might have triggered her devil-may-care-attitude. As she finished tying her shoes, a possible reason came to her. No, that couldn’t be it.
She made her way back to her quarters. When she got inside, she sat down at her desk. After making sure the arrangement of everything on it was just so, she opened her seabag which she’d left sitting on the floor next to the desk.
She pulled out several packs of unsharpened No. 2 pencils. Then, she opened her briefcase and pulled out a manual pencil sharpener. As she began her ritual of sharpening pencils, her mind clamored for her to reconsider the verdict she had given herself earlier.
Okay, maybe that could be a factor in the cause of her behavior of late, she conceded, as she continued her work, but that couldn’t be the sole reason….
Or could it? That thought made her anxious and increased the tempo of her work.
As she started on her last set of pencils, there was a knock at her door. Still absorbed in her self cross-examination, she opened the door automatically.
“Yes?” There stood Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
“Do you always open your door to anyone who knocks on it, Commander?”
Faith was flustered and embarrassed at the same time. “I could tell by the knock it was you, Gibbs.” She snorted, trying to cover for her lapse in judgment.
Gibbs ignored the barb and looked around the room. It was just as Tony had described it. Immaculate. Well ordered. And six packs of precisely sharpened pencils lay in formation on her desk.
“Why are you here?” She walked away from him, feeling embarrassed about having so little on in front of him.
Gibbs watched her walk away from him. Her insecurity was palpable; he’d caught her off guard and vulnerable.
“I owe you an explanation for my behavior earlier, Commander.”
She stood with her back to him, smirking. “Are you apologizing, Gibbs?”
There was twinge of irritation in the senior NCIS Agent’s voice. “No, I’m not Commander. What you did was dangerous.”
She turned around to face him. “So why are you here?”
Gibbs looked at her with those penetrating blue gray eyes. “Because I feel you’re owed an explanation since you’re not a permanent member of my team.”
She started to walk away from him again. “I really don’t need to hear your justification, Gibbs. I’m temporarily under your command--”
“People get killed when they do stupid things, Commander. NCIS Agents, even ones temporarily assigned to my team, can’t afford to do stupid things.”
Faith had overlooked that little item when creating arguments in her mind. But she still wasn’t giving up. “Hitting me--”
“--Got your attention, Commander. That’s why I did it.” Gibbs said, finishing her thought for her before she got something else wrong. “Don’t pull a stunt like that again.”
Faith anger returned. But this time now not so much with him, but with herself for doing something as stupid as baiting Phillips and then using flawed arguments and logic to back up her defense! Gibbs was right, as usual.
“Understood Gibbs.” She once again, had to fight not saying ‘Yes sir’ to him.
He looked back at her desk and then gave her a wry smile. “There are other ways to work out your frustration, Commander,” he said cryptically.
“Meaning?” She turned her head to see what the NCIS Special Agent was looking at on her desk and then turned back to him.
“Meet me at the recreation area at 1300, Commander. We’ll talk about it.”
0350 Local
36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller
Near Mirbullah, Iraq
The warm air was somewhat disconcerting at this hour. The sky though was crystal clear and the stars twinkled like precious stones against a black velvet backdrop. The only other thing that marred this beautiful sky was the harsh stab of sodium emergency lighting around the airfield and the entire camp.
Mac sighed as she felt a tiny pang of homesickness for Arizona that she quickly buried in her subconscious. She forced her mind to focus on the current situation. Mac had left Corporal Danvers sleeping peacefully as she made her way to the airfield.
Reveille would not sound for another forty minutes, so she had that much time to come out here and see Colonel Blakely off. As she headed for the airfield terminal, she saw Special Agent Gibbs walking in the same direction.
“What are you doing up at this hour, Special Agent?” Mac said as Gibbs moved toward her.
He gave her that wry smile of his. “I was going to ask you the same question, Colonel.”
“I’m here to see Colonel Blakely off. Briggs got him on an early morning flight back to Baghdad.”
“No doubt as a thank you for his services,”
“Yeah, but you might call it sort of a back-handed compliment.”
He looked at the cargo aircraft being serviced. “I wouldn’t.” Mac would have sworn there was a hint of longing in his voice. She wanted to ask him about that, but a more pressing question was asked instead.
“So why are you here; just to admire the aircraft?”
He turned back to her. “I’m here to break up with my girlfriend.”
“The plot thickens,” she said playfully.
He nodded. “Yep; I don’t like her joining Colonel Livingston’s unit.”
Mac chuckled at the irony. “Well I can’t say I’m thrilled at that prospect either. But there’s really no other way to find out if the Colonel’s dirty.”
“Well if she isn’t, she keeps a lot of dirty company….”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning one of our Regional Investigative Coordinators, Sedrick Phillips, admitted to working with the Iraqi insurgents.”
“And al-Qaeda?” Mac gasped.
She couldn’t believe it. Just how far had Livingston’s ‘cancer’ spread?
“He wouldn’t admit to that, but odds are that he was.”
“al-Sahood?”
“Most likely,”
Mac spoke urgently. This was the break she and Harm had been looking for. “Gibbs, if we can tie him to al-Sahood and to Livingston, it would fill in a lot of missing gaps in this investigation.”
The silver haired senior NCIS Agent understood her response. It was like finding the missing piece to an annoying puzzle. He wanted the nail them as bad as she and Rabb did. “I’m way ahead of you, Colonel. We’re interrogating him this morning.”
Actually the interrogation had started earlier, but the real business of finding out what he knew would begin later this morning
“Just make sure it’s done by the book, Special Agent.” Mac said suddenly turning
stern.
“I always do, Colonel.” Gibbs said solemnly. “So, should we get this over with?”
“You mean you’re about ready for me to publicly let the air out of this budding relationship?”
“No time like the present, Colonel. Happens to me all the time.” Mac was pretty sure that last part wasn’t a tongue-in-cheek comment.
“…Uh, just one request though.”
“What’s that?”
He gave her one of his shy, boyish grins. “Don’t use any golf clubs to make your point.”
---TBC…
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