Code Name: Merlin

Julianne Nelson had never been so afraid. It was the kind of dread a mother feels when she sees her four-year-old child dart into traffic. She was driving to work on what seemed to be an average day, but with a terrible feeling deep in her bones. She had dropped her daughter, Mia, at her mother's house on Homer Street and was on her way to work. Since both she and her husband Scott worked, Julianne's mother took care of Mia for her. Her mother lived alone since Julianne's father died years ago; she and Mia were good company for each other. So, on a sunny day in San Diego, with birds singing, and everyone healthy, with both she and her husband having secure jobs and close family and friends around them, she should have been happy and content...instead she was trembling, using great effort merely to drive the car and to keep from crying. It was a short drive down Chatsworth, a curvy street lined with Spanish- and Craftsman-style homes, past the house that belonged to the parents of one of the infamous Manson family women, up Catalina, past the wooded section of Point Loma, and out to SPAWAR Systems, where she was the secretary to the Commanding Officer, Admiral Harold (Hal) Sykes. SPAWAR (Space and Naval Warfare) supports the U.S. Navy's submarine fleet with tactical weapons and information systems. At first she felt flattered to receive the note, even though she was married and the note anonymous. It felt good to know someone thought she was beautiful. Secretly, she knew she was attractive, had a pretty face and what guys called a great figure...though it was fuller than she liked. It occurred to her that guys tended to say “great figure” and women tended to say “I need to lose a few pounds”, both talking about the same figure. The whole thing was unsettling but flattering. Just when she thought that would be the end of it, more notes appeared, and then they started getting personal. Frankly they began to embarrass her. They including language she didn't even use in private with her husband. Because the notes were anonymous, she could neither respond nor get the writer to stop. At one point it was merely an intrusion, but then the notes got threatening, and now they were downright nasty as well. The writer said that she was ignoring him, didn't care about him, and that she was a snob. Then they got worse. Now they reached a point where they began to threaten not only Julianne, but her daughter, and even her mother. He obviously knew a lot about her private life, and that was part of the problem; she wasn't the only one in peril, so were her daughter and her mother. Moreover, if this were a casual acquaintance or a stranger, how did he learn so much about her personal business? So now here she was, trembling, about to cry, almost at work, and she had no idea what to do about it. She certainly didn't want to tell Scott about it; he had enough on his mind, what with him being a fighter pilot on deployment to the Persian Gulf. He didn't need to be distracted with something he could do nothing about With SPAWAR Systems looming ahead, she found a place to park and went in. The guard, Barney, gave her a big smile, checked her ID and waved her through. Julianne was a little early so she had time to stop at the restroom and do a quick repair to her make-up. If she was lucky, nobody would know how upset she was. It was nobody else's business. Things like this were kept to oneself; that was what her mother taught her and she thought that was good advice. She went through the normal early morning routine of organizing her office and making coffee for the Admiral. He liked his own brew; French roast from Trader Joe's, and he liked it made in his own pot, brewed strong and served with sugar. She had been the Commanding Officer's secretary for several years, but since the position rotated every two or three years, she only worked for this Admiral for a little over a year. She took a few deep breaths, popped a Breath-Saver into her mouth, and was ready to start her day at work. She kept her poise all week, but for some reason today, Friday, it all seemed to be too much to handle. Just then the Admiral walked in.