Free Darkside by P. T. Deutermann

worked for Operations, but because of the NCIS involvement, he had been asked to sit in. The mood in the conference room was grim; this was not going to be a routine meeting. The Public Affairs officer, a harried-looking aviator commander named, interestingly enough, Berry Springer, was continuously running his hand through his nonexistent hair as he turned sideways in his seat, listening intently to two assistants as they briefed him in stereo.
    â€œGentlemen, the superintendent,” announced Admiral McDonald’s rather imperious executive assistant. The admiral came through the door, followed by Captain Robbins. McDonald was a distinguished-looking officer, tall, with bushy eyebrows, keen blue eyes, and a ruddy face that belied the submariner’s gold dolphins he wore on his uniform. He went to his chair at the head of the table and nodded at the Public Affairs officer, who went to the podium. Someone dimmed the lights and then the PAO went through a review of press articles and other media interest in the plebe’s death. It was not a pretty picture. Normally, when there was an untoward incident at the Academy, the supe would let the press briefing go on just long enough to get the flavor. This time, he let the PAO go through all the articles. No one spoke when he was finished.
    â€œTell me again how we are characterizing this?” the admiral asked.
    â€œUnder investigation; initial speculation from ‘informed sources’—that’s me—is that it was an accident.”
    â€œAt that hour of the morning.”
    â€œWell, yes, sir, Admiral, but the alternatives are suicide, or worse.”
    The admiral nodded. “Okay, so how about suicide? Any indicators?”
    â€œNone, sir,” the commandant said. “He wasn’t a star, but the company officer says he wasn’t a total goat, either. His roommate discounted suicide immediately. He said Dell was making it. Barely, but making it.”
    â€œAnd this, um, other aspect?”
    Robbins shrugged. “We’ve got NCIS into it, Admiral. The rumor’s out. Some questions on it, but Public Affairs says nothing until NCIS completes their investigation.”
    â€œThey buy that, Berry?”
    â€œSo far, anyway, Admiral.”
    The supe looked over at Jim, who was never sure whether or not Admiral McDonald knew who he was. “Mr. Hall? You were at the scene?”
    â€œUnfortunately, yes, sir, I was.”
    â€œNo knives sticking out of his back, or other indications of foul play?”
    â€œThe body was no longer thick enough for anything to be stuck in it, Admiral.”
    This comment provoked an embarrassed silence.
    â€œOkay, troops,” the admiral said wearily. “We have a dead plebe. We have an NCIS investigation. We have lots and lots of wonderful press coverage. We have the Board of Visitors coming between now and graduation, and we have the vice president of the United States here on commissioning day to make the graduation speech. What we need now is damage control until we have some answers. Berry?”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œRefresh the executive staff, in writing, about how this works when we’re under siege. One point of contact. One source of information. No sidebars with anybody. No speculation as to what happened. Rumor control within Bancroft Hall. You know the drill.”
    â€œYes, sir, I’ll have it out today.”
    â€œDee,” he said, turning to the commandant, “Let’s see if we can get inside the NCIS investigation somehow. I don’t want them spooling up any bigger deal than is necessary, and I’d really like to keep it local.”
    â€œAye, aye, sir,” the commandant replied, then made some notes. Jim thought Robbins hated being called Dee.
    â€œSenior chaplain, I want to call the parents and reassure them that we’re going to find out what happened here just as quickly as we can. Set that up for me, please. And make sure