| Subject: ...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 4 |
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TxJAG_b
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Date Posted: 11:42:54 05/04/11 Wed
In reply to:
TxJAG_b
's message, "...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 1" on 10:48:20 04/12/11 Tue
Chapter 4 …For Meritorious Service
A/N1: - A 'Hoohah' to all SEALs out there - Bravo Zulu
on a job well done - despite what some might think!
A/N2: - Thanks to all of those who long ago, help me
put this together - on with the story....
“Six o’clock low!” Barnett pointed toward the enemy position. “RPG team in the ditch!!”
Mac steadied her weapon against the wild gyrations caused by the driver and loosed off five rounds. The Major did likewise.
The RPG team ducked down as Mac and Barnett’s bullets peppered the concrete lip of the gully.
The drivers swerved back to the left, shooting past a dark green Humvee squad carrier. This one, armed with a .50 caliber machine gun, was banging away at the ambushers. Harm wished they had that kind of firepower.
*~*
In his swerving Humvee, Captain Johnson and Sturgis undid their windscreens, preparing to fire as well.
“Can you see anything!?” snapped Johnson. Amidst the smoking wrecks and wild confusion caused by the skidding and swerving vehicles, it was hard to spot where the enemy was lying in wait. For the moment, it seemed the heavy machine gun was keeping the ambushers off balance--
As if in defiance to the machine gun fire, another RPG round shot past the swerving Humvees, smacking into a stalled Diahatsu delivery truck, obliterating the cab of the vehicle and its occupants.
The billowing fireball from the wreck seemed to give the .50 caliber gunner his chance. He rattled off a long burst, catching the RPG gunner across the chest. As the large bullets ripped him apart, his undamaged and loaded launcher tilted downward and fired. The round hit the concrete lip of the gully before any of the gunner’s confederates could react. The resulting explosion annihilated the group, sending chunks of concrete and body parts flying across the road.
“Keep going!” ordered Barnett, “Get us lost in the traffic!”
“You don’t have to tell me twice Sir!” responded the driver grimly as he mashed the accelerator to the floorboard. The Captain’s Humvee followed suit and soon both shot out of the airport drop-off loop and into highway traffic.
1610 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
John looked over the legal brief on the case assigned to him by the Admiral. The brief was succinct, but spotty. He’d get a better idea about how to approach his defense of the client if he looked at the actual case file. He began looking around on his already cluttered desk for the file. Nothing. Maybe it wasn’t in the stack he had been given when he arrived. John got up from his desk and walked into the bullpen. (Maybe Petty Officer Coates or Lieutenant Roberts would know where to find it….)
As he approached Harriet, he saw Major Carly Clemons come out of her office and make her way over toward him.
(Oh great, here we go again,) John noticed that her smile was most unsettling.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your pals? I didn’t get a chance to properly meet them before.” She looked over at Harriet and the others. Several pairs of eyes in the bullpen took notice of what was unfolding.
Harriet, sitting at her workstation, looked from the Lieutenant Commander back to the Major. She cleared her throat and stood. “Lieutenant Harriet Sims, Ma’am; liaison to the IGO.”
Jen followed her lead. “Petty Officer 2nd Class Jennifer Coates, staff assistant to the JAG attorneys, Ma’am.”
Both stood eyeing her with a mixture of worry and defensiveness. The Major’s tone and facial expression already indicated her true feelings toward Lieutenant Commander Burford and they did not want to get in the middle of this war.
The Major eyed them intently. “Carly Clemons, on TAD from Pearl to JAG Corps Headquarters.”
“We’re glad to have you here, Ma’am.” responded Harriet with what she hoped sounded like sincerity.
“Glad to be here,” she replied. It was obvious that Carly did not believe her. She looked over at Jen. “Petty Officer, I need your help.”
Jen felt as if someone had put her on permanent latrine duty. “Yes Ma’am?” She asked hopefully, praying it didn’t put her into the crossfire.
“One of my case files has some missing parts. Can you get me a copy of the Washburn testimony?”
It would mean delving into closed files in the dank basement of JAG, but a witness statement for a retrial kept Major Clemons happy, it would be worth it.
“Absolutely Ma’am, it will take some time,” Jen explained, “Because the file is in the sub- basement--”
“That’s fine Petty Officer,” Carly replied cutting her off, “The sooner you get started, the sooner you’ll be done.”
Jen shot a quick look over at Harriet which conveyed her disgust. Harriet smiled weakly.
1730 Zulu
It had been a memorable morning, thought Harriet as she made her way across the bullpen with yet another file for Major Clemons. There had been a few close calls between the Lieutenant Commander and the Major, but so far--
“Oh, Lieutenant?” (Nuts!) It was the Major, again.
“Yes Ma’am?” Harriet dreaded what she was going to hear next.
Carly came to the doorway of her office, her head down, reading through yet another old case file. She was really sinking her teeth into this case. She looked up momentarily at Harriet. “Can you get me a copy of the Gutierrez testimony?”
“Right away, Major,” She managed to force out in as neutral a tone as possible. “And here is the Yates case file, Coates said the information you’re looking for is on page twenty-one.” Carly looked blankly at Lieutenant Roberts for a moment and then as if some switch had been snapped on, the Major broke into a big fake smile. “Thank you, Lieutenant Roberts, now if you’ll just get me the Gutierrez transcript, I think I’ll have everything I need.”
(In a pig’s eye Major, you said that three case files ago,) fumed Harriet. It was almost like she was working with Lieutenant Singer again—and those same emotions from that experience were threatening to surface again. Harriet worked hard to remain stoic even though she really wanted to strangle the bwitch.
“Yes Ma’am.” Harriet turned and started to walk back to her desk.
“Oh and Lieutenant?” Harriet, who had her back still turned to the Major, clenched her teeth and rolled her eyes, closing them in frustration. Willing herself to turn around, she plastered a fake look of concern on her face.
“Yes Major?”
“Thank you for your help this morning. Without you, I never would have gotten up to speed on this one.”
That took the wind out of Harriet’s anger. She stood looking blankly at Major Clemons for a moment. Then she realized she was staring, obviously dumbstruck, at the Major. A blush rising to her cheeks, she looked down. “Uhh thank you, Ma’am.”
For her part Carly could see that her well timed compliment had thrown this teacher’s pet off guard. Good, the simple ones were always the easiest to control. (Let’s just throw in a little concern to ensure embarrassment.) “Lieutenant? Are you okay?”
Harriet may have been a former cheerleader, but Major Bubble Butt would be wise not to underestimate her. “Just my little one giving me a kick Ma’am—it kind of stunned me for a moment. And I’ll give Coates your request… And Ma’am?”
Carly, who had started to go back inside her office, stopped. She turned to face her adversary.
“We’re glad to have you here,” said Harriet sweetly, “You’re really doing a great job.” (Take that, you black haired hag!)
Now it was Carly’s turn to be stunned. Harriet smiled brightly. (Game and match, Bubble Butt!)
She swiftly turned away her smile becoming much more mocking as she headed to Jen’s workstation, leaving a slack jawed Major in her wake.
1150 Local
Baghdad International Airport Road
Barnett, Mac, Johnson and Sturgis were resealing their windscreens as the two Humvees slowed down and matched the speed of the various military and civilian vehicles around them.
“Damn terrorists!” The Major swore vehemently. He was still shaking from the extra adrenaline that had been dumped into his bloodstream. He then remembered Mac and Harm were in the back. He turned to face them. “Sorry Ma’am, Sir…”
“It’s all right Major,” Mac responded being a little winded herself.
“Gut reaction Major,” Harm added, “We know the feeling.”
*~*
In the second Humvee, Bud and Sturgis exchanged glances of relief. “Is it like this every day?” Bud asked, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of the attack.
“Sometimes we have two or three ‘incidents’ a day, Sir,” replied Captain Johnson’s driver. His voice was still a little shaky and full of pent up emotions.
“Meaning no disrespect Sir, I’m a short timer,” continued the driver, “Got three months to go before I rotate back and.…” Not sure if he should or could continue, the driver trailed off.
“We understand.” replied Sturgis realizing just how hard being here had been on some of these soldiers. It wasn’t that they weren’t willing to do what was asked of them, but like soldiers of all wars, they had left family, wives and girlfriends to do this dangerous business.
“Thank you, Sir.” replied the driver, obviously relieved that his comments were not going to be taken a criticism. “But I’ll stay if they ask me to. My wife’s brother was killed at the World Trade Center.” It was evident that the man was torn about what to do.
“No one would blame you if rotated home,” added Bud trying to lessen the soldier’s guilt “You’ve certainly earned it.”
“I would blame myself if my buddies were killed and I could have done something to stop the bastards gunning for them.”
Neither Sturgis nor Bud had an answer to that one.
*~*
As they passed through downtown, the two HMMWVs passed several burning buildings. Hoses snaked across the road from both military and civilian fire trucks as firefighters were trying valiantly to douse the roaring flames. Grim US Army soldiers stood by a couple of Bradley armored personnel carriers guarding the surrounding buildings against looters.
A little further down the street, two Iraqi policemen assisted by two Army military police officers, had a barefoot man down on the ground, his wrists wrapped with plastic handcuffs. Around them stood a crowd that seemed openly hostile to the handcuffed man, occasionally spitting his direction and calling out insults. A few tried to get close enough to hit him with their shoes, but the two MPs had their guns drawn, making them keep their distance.
The traffic slowed to crawl as they moved across a major intersection. Over to the side of the road, Hungarian and Spanish soldiers were inspecting a man’s car for contraband. The soldiers had pulled out the man’s backseat and were checking the car’s engine compartment despite the man’s vehement protestations of innocence. Mac saw people sitting in an open air café near the road, staring out at the traffic. A few smiled and waved at the Humvees, but most either ignored the army vehicles or looked at them with thinly veiled contempt. It was not unlike the conditions they had seen in Afghanistan or Pakistan. While most of the populace was grateful for what the Americans and British had done, there were still those that resented their presence. And even more disturbing, some in that crowd were dedicated to killing them.
As they passed the intersection, both vehicles continued to thread through the downtown traffic, but at a much more acceptable rate.
1742 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Harriet was reaching the end of her rope. In the last hour Bubble Butt--that is, Major Clemons--had requested at least twenty case files. She and Jen had made numerous trips to the basement file room, pulling out musty, grit covered files and brought them to her only to have the Major look at them momentarily and then drop them in the return to file basket. So much for lunch. Harriet had let Jen retrieve the majority of the files, but she felt guilty about this and probably had made more trips to the basement than she should have.
As she arrived back at her desk, Harriet was breathing heavily, her arms and legs felt like lead and worst of all she needed to go to the bathroom, again.
“Oh Lieutenant,” (Not again!)
It was Major Carly Clemons, looking impatiently at her. (What now?)
Ignoring the urge to bark at her, Harriet steadied her breathing and stood “Yes Ma’am?” She dreaded what she was going to hear next.
“I need another case,” (What a surprise.) “Could you or Coates please get me the Johnson Court martial?”
Inwardly, Harriet groaned. That had been one of the first cases she had filed after transferring to JAG Corps. It was also quite possibly the largest. The case had taken Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie months to prepare for and it was stored in at least seven record storage boxes. It would take a couple of hours to bring all of the boxes out of the basement.
She was about to respond when Jason stepped up to her desk. “I’ll take care of that Ma’am,” he shot the Major a guarded look. “You need to rest and have some lunch.”
Harriet smiled at the senior Petty Officer’s intervention. She was grateful that had he spoke up.
The Major said nothing as Jason Tiner headed out of the bullpen for the elevator. When he reached the doors, Jason met Jen as she came back from another errand.
“Where are you headed?”
“To the basement,” replied Jason grimly. “Major Clemons needs the Johnson court martial.”
Jen’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“She needs it to prepare for her upcoming case which she is defending against Lieutenant Commander Burford. The Major had requested that Lieutenant Roberts retrieve it.”
Jen was about to comment on the necessity of that request when the elevator arrived. They got on and Jason pushed the button for basement.
Noting that no one else was on board, Jen waited until the doors shut. “That witch! Like she’s going to find anything in those boxes for her case!” spit out the junior Petty Officer.
Jason smiled at her righteous indignation. Jennifer Coates was cute when she got upset like this. He remembered that he had overheard Harm telling Harriet that she had used the same epithet to describe Lieutenant Singer when she had accused Jen of taking her bracelet.
“I’m glad you’re coming down to help me,” he said nonchalantly without looking at her. “That is why you got on board with me, isn’t it?”
She smiled shyly, looking away from him, biting her lower lip. “Sure, I figured you could use the help.”
“I’m glad that you did.”
Jen felt a blush creeping onto her face. She looked up at Jason and smiled. He returned her smile.
1215 Local
Downtown Baghdad
Harm and Mac sat in companionable silence in the back of Barnett’s Humvee. As they continued through the city, Harm placed his hand lightly on top of Mac’s which was resting beside him.
As soon as she felt the pressure and the warmth of Harm’s hand, she shot him a look of surprise. They were not alone in fact, if the Major or his driver saw what he was doing, they could get in real trouble. “Harm….” she whispered urgently.
Harm didn’t retreat, he merely smiled at her. It was a disarming smile. “Just making sure you’re okay, Marine.”
Mac relaxed a little, but moved her hand slightly so it rested on her leg. “I--”
“--Can handle it, Harm finished softly for her, “You’re a Marine.”
Under normal circumstances this would have annoyed or even angered her, but deep down she knew that he was showing concern for her, in a way he hadn’t expressed before, in the only way he could right now.
She smiled “That’s right Flyboy, her whisper took on a huskier tone, “And don’t you forget it.”
His blue eyes locked onto her brown ones. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Mac.”
*~*
“I don’t envy you.” Bud said his sympathy evident for the two Marines as they continued through the city. They had seen so much since they left the airport.
On the next street, they passed a burned out Iraqi T-55 sprayed with competing pro and anti-American graffiti and slogans in Arabic. Children were hanging off the wreck, laughing and playing as if they were on a piece of playground equipment.
On yet another street, a mixed group of NATO peacekeepers and American soldiers were talking with a group of Iraqi policemen. Both groups stopped what they were doing when the two Humvees moved past. They stared, their faces betraying their fatigue and depression.
“You were saying that you don’t envy us, Sir?” asked the driver as they pulled past the scene.
Bud didn’t have any words left.
“Well, neither do I Sir,” replied the driver dryly, still feeling the stares of the soldiers and policemen. “Neither do I.”
1809 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
“Thank you Tiner,” Harriet said with heartfelt appreciation as Jason and Jen brought the dust and dirt covered boxes into the bullpen.
Jen carried her boxes up to Lieutenant Singer’s office. “Ma’am? Here are the first boxes for the Johnson court martial that you requested--”
Carly Clemons looked up from the affidavit she was reviewing. “Thank you Petty Officer, just put it beside my desk.” She resumed looking at her papers. Jen put down the boxes and came to attention. “Yes Ma’am.” She pivoted on her heel and exited the room.
Shortly thereafter, Jason walked to Major Clemons’ doorway and knocked.
“Major Clemons?”
She looked up “Yes, Petty Officer?”
“The rest of the boxes you requested, Ma’am. He put the boxes with the other ones around her desk. She open one of them, picked it a file folder and began flipping through it. “I’ve got you now, Burford,” She said in a low voice, and then she cut her eyes back to Jason. “Thank you, Petty Officer.”
Jason saluted, “Aye Ma’am.” He pivoted and exited Singer’s office.
He walked back to his desk where Jen and Harriet were waiting.
“I’m glad that’s over.” Jen sighed, sitting down. Both Harriet and Jason nodded in agreement.
“Petty Officer?”
All three froze.
Jason turned toward the voice of Lieutenant Commander Burford.
Harriet motioned for the two younger officers to keep their seats. She rose stiffly. “Yes Sir?”
“Would you please get me the Richards deposition?” He looked at her moving slowly and realized she was fatigued. “I can have Tiner or Coates get it--”
Harriet smiled tiredly. This was only one folder and they had not moved it to the basement yet. Sturgis’ office had been designated a temporary holding room for files until he got back. This would be cinch compared to some of the other runs she had made earlier today. “It’s not a problem Sir; I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Lieutenant!”
Harriet cringed and Jen closed her eyes, her mouth locked in silent prayer.
Harriet straightened her face and turned toward Carly.
“Yes Ma’am?”
“Please get me the Horner file.” Though she had added the word ‘please’, it was not a request. Harriet was beginning to cultivate a healthy dislike for this woman.
“Right away Ma’am,” she responded. Thank God that one was also in Sturgis’ office.
Jen hissed her disgust, but not so loud that the Major could hear it, but Jason could. He looked over sharply at her, his expression cutting off any other expressions, verbal or otherwise. However, when the Major went back into her office, Jen stuck out her tongue at her.
Unbeknownst to all of them, Admiral Chegwidden had silently watched this and all the other incidents this morning. He usually let his staff handle their own problems, but now morale was being impacted, and he couldn’t have that. Burford and Clemons, he harrumphed disgustedly; maybe the SECNAV was testing him. Well, for now he was still head of JAG Corps, and he was going to teach these two a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.
1322 Local
Rasheed Air Base
Baghdad, Iraq
The two Humvees made their way past the security checkpoint onto the airfield. They skirted several machine shops with Cobras, Hueys, and Sea Stallions all in various stages of repair. Some had suffered significant battle damage. Further on, there were several of the newest AH-1Z Cobras lined up getting ready to take off.
Mac glanced out her windscreen and saw a crudely colored makeshift sign - 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, 36th Marine Air Group Kickin’ Butt by Request
They passed several more machine shops and bivouac areas before they reached a staging area for the cargo operations of the 36th MEU. On the tarmac sat one of the unit’s sea gray CH-53 Sea Stallions. Her blades were turning slowly, beginning to pick up speed.
“There’s our ride!” barked Barnett above the roar of the Stallion’s engines. “She’ll get us to Camp Chesty Puller and Mirbullah!”
On board the Sea Stallion, the pilot and co-pilot were going through their pre-flight checks when they saw the two HMMWVs headed toward them. The pilot, nudged his co-pilot and nodded toward the two approaching vehicles.
“Here comes Vince and Floyd,” noted the pilot. He put on his mirrored sunglasses and got up from his seat, “Took them long enough.”
As the Marine Captain made his way back through the cabin he ran headlong into the crew chief who had been heading toward the cockpit.
“Captain!” The crew chief wasn’t expecting him to come down into the cabin.
“Lieutenant…I take it you’ve seen the Humvees….”
“Yes Sir, and it’s about damn time--” He noticed the Captain’s frown,
“Sir--”
The Captain ignored the remark. “Get’em on board as soon as possible, Lieutenant. We’ve hung around here way too long as it is.”
“Aye Sir.”
The two Humvees came to halt near the Stallion. The JAG officers and their Marine escorts got out of the quarter ton trucks and ducking down, they ran to the helicopter.
“Glad you made it Sir!” barked the Chief Warrant Officer to Major Barnett above the helicopter’s whining turbines. The CWO eyed the four other officers being led by Captain Johnson. “I take it these are the JAG Corps officers we’re supposed to take back to the BLT Headquarters….”
Barnett nodded. He watched as the tall Naval Commander wearing aviator wings and the female Marine Light Colonel came up the cargo ramp first, followed by Captain Johnson, the other Naval Commander with a submarine officer’s pin and the Naval Lieutenant favoring his artificial leg. Chief Warrant Officer Guzman and Lieutenant Feldman showed them to their seats.
Major Barnett wondered about these four. So these were supposed to be the JAG Corps’s best, huh? (We’ll see….) They would probably be trying to keep the peg-leg Lieutenant from falling on his butt most of the time he was out here, surmised Barnett. (He’ll definitely need a nursemaid.) The sub guy probably had a lousy sense of direction on land; he’d need one, too. He really couldn’t spare anyone, but orders were orders, and these JAG attorneys were to be extended every courtesy -- even if it was at his expense.
On the other hand, that Marine Light Colonel could probably keep that jet jockey in line. Despite the fact she was a woman, she had handled herself pretty well back there at the airport and she didn’t look like someone you would want to mess with. He wondered how all these different folks became lawyers. He could see how the Lieutenant and the sub guy got here, but he could not figure out how a Top Gun and a lady Marine could become paper pushers. Oh well, not his worry, all he had to do was to deliver them to Colonel Briggs.
As the lawyers made their way down the length of the cabin, they were met by Captain Casey. Harm could not tell his emotions because man’s eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, but from his stance, he could tell the man had something to say to them.
“Commander Rabb?” He began loudly.
Harm looked at the man, trying to place his face. “I don’t believe we’ve met….”
“I’m Captain Don Casey, pilot of this bird, Hatchet oh seven.”
Harm smiled earnestly. “Well Captain, thanks for the lift to Mirbullah and Camp Puller.”
“Don’t mention it….” he paused, seeming to look from Harm to Mac to Sturgis to Bud.
“Something else on your mind Captain?”
“I take it you’re here to investigate Lieutenant Dodge’s death….”
Mac took this one. “Yes we are Captain, is there something else?”
The Captain took off his glasses and fixed Mac with a piercing stare. “Yes Ma’am, just this; I’ve known Lieutenant Lukens and Chief Warrant Officer Buell since Kosovo and they are damn good soldiers and pilots and I would trust them with my life. They did not kill Lieutenant Dodge, Ma’am.” His words cut through the air.
“Now wait a minute--” began Harm taking offense at the Captain’s surly tone.
“Hold on Captain--” warned Sturgis. He too, had been taken by surprise by the pilot’s comments and it left him angry.
The Captain Casey cut them both off before they could finish. “--We’ve been out here since last November alternately sweating and freezing our asses off to keep the citizens safe…” He looked directly at Mac again. “…And I won’t let some overeager legal eagles from DC ruin their careers over the death of one guy who happened to be the fair haired boy of the brass.”
That comment got Mac’s blood boiling. “Captain!” barked Mac in her best Marine voice, “Are you accusing me of being prejudiced against the Lieutenant and the Chief Warrant Officer!?”
Casey was not backing down “You hotshots are all the same! You fly in here, not knowing anything about what’s really going on, and you destroy two good Marines’ careers and then fly back to your comfy jobs in DC while we’re left here to pick up the pieces!!”
“Watch yourself Captain!” Harm was beginning to see red.
Sturgis shot the pilot a threatening look. “Captain Casey you are way out of line!”
Mac moved closer to the man, her voice a growl. “Captain I suggest you think carefully about what you have just said to us, or I will have your *ass* up on insubordination and just about any other related charge I can think of!”
“Are you going to ruin my career too, lady!?”
“That’s enough Captain!!” Harm barked. He was ready to take this man apart.
Bud just stood there stunned, looking at the man. He was unable to believe what the pilot had just accused them of.
Major Barnett who had been in the back of the craft, swiftly cut in between Mac and Casey who were now almost nose to nose. He stood facing the pilot. “Captain! I think it might be a good idea for you to get back up front and fly this crate to Mirbullah!!”
Casey hesitated.
“Now, Captain! On the double!!”
Casey didn’t flinch. He slowly put his glasses back on. “I have a chopper to fly.” The man turned around and stalked back to the front of the craft. Barnett turned to Mac and the others.
Mac stood rigid with a murderous look in her eyes. She was clenching and unclenching her hands, trying to tamp down her fury. Harm and Sturgis were standing close to her, their faces conveying their disgust and hatred. Bud, who up to now had only registered shock was now dissolving into anger.
“We’re all a little strung out right now--” he began lamely.
“Keep that son of bitch out of my way,” was all that Mac was able to choke out. Bud, Harm and Sturgis’s faces mirrored her sentiment.
Around them, the rest of the aircrew of Hatchet 07 stood shocked into silence by the Captain’s furious display and the response of the JAG attorneys.
---TBC...
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