The JAG office was quiet, except for the rhythmic tapping of the rain on the window. Everyone had left for the long weekend, except for Lieutenant Commander Jillian Harris. She didn’t mind that she was alone, she felt safe; after all, she was on a military base. It was sometimes a bit off-putting though to have all of the lights off with just a little desk lamp illuminating the stacks of files cluttering the desktop. Jillian was involved in her work, though; she had longed to make something of herself and prove what she was capable of, that meant long weekends and no life outside of the office.
The file that held her attention for the moment was that of a young sailor who had gotten wrapped up in a drug smuggling ring. Petty Officer Brandon Hill seemed like a good kid with the perfect background; what led him down this path? Jillian knew that there was more to the story and was positive that he was a small cog in a much larger operation. She wanted the big fish; she was sure that she could come up with the necessary evidence to flip Petty Officer Hill and reel in his supplier. It was somewhere in the file; her heart told her to keep looking but her head was warning her to stop. She knew she was getting close when the threats started. First, there was the anonymous voicemails left on her phone and then the letters that began appearing at the JAG office. She was confident that it was nothing; that was until the calls started at her home. Calls would come after she got home, but the scariest ones were the ones that would wake her from her sleep, a deep husky voice on the other end warning her to stop on her own or they would make her stop and it wouldn’t be pretty. Jillian refused to let on that she was shaken; she hid from the Admiral and her co-workers that the threats were getting more ominous.
In her 3 years at JAG, Jillian had ruffled more than a few feathers. She could be like a dog with a bone – fiercely protective and not wanting to let go. The smaller cases that came across her desk, she did her own investigating on. She didn’t want to rely on others to get her what she needed – she was capable of doing it herself. She had earned a reputation for being hard-nosed, but people respected her, and that was the most important. Her gut instinct played a significant role in her successes and her failures were few and far between.
It was close to midnight and Jillian figured she should start packing up and head home. Like most nights she packed a bag full of work, this time, she would pack a bit more since she had an entire weekend to cover. She walked out of her office to turn on the main light in the hallway – she knew if she just turned off her desk lamp it would be hard to maneuver out of the area in complete darkness. While Jillian was keen and had good instincts, she was a klutz! She could trip and fall over nothing, or better yet, run into the door frames for no particular reason. No sense in risking it to get out of the office, turning on lights was the best way to go.
As she stepped back into her office to extinguish the desk lamp she heard a noise. She, at first, brushed it off, she had her cell phone in hand ready to dial when she heard the sound again. This time, she was starting to get spooked. She hated horror movies and this felt like she was starring in one…creepy noise…dark building…the storm raging outside…it was the classic sign that there was a killer around the corner. She gave a slight laugh at herself for thinking so vividly. But to be safe, she dialed the phone, hit send and turned around to leave – that would be the last thing she would do for the night.