| Subject: ...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 25d, part two - continued |
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TxJAG_b
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Date Posted: 16:25:09 01/08/09 Thu
A/N - rather than confusing people with more parts - I'm just going to say 'continued' until I get all of this
posted. There will be one more part after this and Chapter 25d will be complete. :)
1840 Local/1640 Zulu
Somewhere North of Mirbullah
Mac’s eyes flicked left and right, looking for signs of trouble. The landscape was mixed barley and rice fields interspersed with date palms, followed by barren stretches criss-crossed with dry irrigation ditches. The light Colonel wondered just what this battalion defensive position was supposed to look like. She couldn’t imagine it being anywhere around here.
She looked again at the written orders for her unit. Darcy made a vague mention in her notes to an abandoned battalion defensive position north of Mirbullah as ‘possibly being used by insurgents as a base of operations’. Before they’d left JAG for this assignment, Mac had done a quick scan of after combat reports and had gleaned the basics about these triangular defensive positions used by the Iraqi Army.
A hold over from their war with Iran in the 1980s, Saddam’s forces continued to use them right up to the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Like most WW I era defensive positions, they were easily isolated and knocked out by the rapidly moving Coalition forces. Except for a few instances where they were found to contain caches of weapons, Coalition troops found little if anything useful in these makeshift fortifications.
But for some reason Darcy thought this particular fortification might be a haven for the insurgents. She had showed Mac some photos she said were taken by a TARP mission that showed there was some unusual activity around the defensive position which was nestled among some hills.
The land was growing rockier and more barren with each passing mile; in the fading light she could see hills in the distance. Mac wondered whether Colonel Livingston sending them into a trap….
It was hard to concentrate on her concerns as the truck continued to buck and jolt along the uneven road surface. There was nothing that Corporal Burges could do to make the ride smoother, such was the state of this particular road. After a few more minutes the ride became less jolting. That was bad. Mac had been fighting her nightmares and insomnia for so long she didn’t realize that the jolting motion had been one of the few things keeping her alert. Now with a less jolting ride, her thoughts began to drift….
Iraqi battalion defensive position…must keep alert for possible ambushes…why send us out here…who are Darcy’s insurgent allies…is Kayce a spy for Darcy…Could Burges be in on this too…they seemed genuinely upset when Ebbits was killed…but then so did Jacques Lewis when Dodge was killed…Jacques Lewis…Jac….
As her mind drifted, it replayed the phone call she had made to Mr. Green at the Defense Services Directorate….
~~**~~**~~**~~
“Colonel, we’ve come a long way since the days of using people like Clark Palmer--”
“Like when you used him against Colonel Vickers when he oversaw the foreign military sales to Algeria of 105mm shells and equipment needed to create Sarin nerve gas?”
She remembered Green snorting dismissively “That was a lifetime ago, Colonel; under another agency aegis. We don’t engage in that kind of activity anymore--”
“What about Captain Lewis, Mr. Green,” Mac had replied pointedly “Is he a leftover from that period?”
“Captain Lewis is the CIA’s concern, not ours, Colonel; we cut him loose just after Osama bin Laden escaped from Tora Bora.”
“What do you mean?” Mac had been momentarily taken aback by this latest revelation. Up to now, she had thought Lewis was still working for DSD.
“Just what I said, Colonel. He hasn’t been working for the DSD since January 2002. We kept tabs on him, but if he’s involved with anything, it’s definitely through the CIA.”
Mac had felt her stomach crawl; could Webb have known that and not told her? (That’s a dumb question) she had thought at the time, chiding herself, (of course he could…)
“Or he’s free-lancing,” Mac had said bravely, not wanting to believe that Clayton might have lied to her yet again.
The Marine Light Colonel had heard the grin in Green’s voice. “That is a distinct possibility, Colonel, but I highly doubt it.”
~~**~~**~~**~~
Mac’s turmoil increased…Jac…Webb…CIA involvement…Harm…Harm flying Tomcats again…dangerous….
Burges swerved to avoid a rut, but only partially succeeded, the harsh bucking of the pickup almost brought the Light Colonel out of her fatigue-induced stupor. She lazily opened one eye and looked at the driver.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Burges said apologetically, “Couldn’t avoid it.”
“S’all right…Corporal,” Mac said softly as her thoughts returned to Harm…
…and their mission…find the SCUD missiles…chemical warheads…find the SCUDS…find the missiles…Harm in his Tomcat…..
~~**~~**~~**~~
She heard Harm’s voice “I told you before Sundance, I think we can handle this one ourselves. I have an idea that just might work....”
Harm…? Then it was a bright sunny afternoon. She was out in the desert, in her Force Recon uniform, laying on a rock outcropping, scanning the horizon with a pair of binoculars
“We’re too late, ma’am…” Mac felt the ground rumble underneath her and then watched as an ugly black missile hurtled into the hot afternoon air. In a moment it had raced across the sky overhead and then was gone.
Something made the Light Colonel look to her left. There was Mac propped up against a rock wall, a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead. She realized she must be seeing things through Kayce’s eyes. Hearing the crackle of flames, she looked behind her and saw Corporal Burges [or rather what was left of him] sitting in the burning remains of his pickup truck. The bodies of the rest of the team lay sprawled all around her.
“Don’t be afraid, Cher, it will all be over soon….”
Her blood froze as Darcy’s whispered words reached her ear. Then she saw Captain Lewis on another rock outcropping across the way – he had his rifle pointed directly at her.
As she heard the rifle’s report, she also heard the thunderous detonation as the SCUD missile found its target.
~~**~~**~~**~~
“No…” she murmured aloud. “…can’t…let that happen…it can’t end this way……” Then drifted back into her troubled sleep.
~~**~~**~~**~~
Then she was in the cockpit of an F-14 doing evasive maneuvers. She wasn’t flying the plane, though.
“Missiles inbound Hammer!!”
She heard Harm’s confident voice through her helmet radio. “I see them, Supergirl…” Despite the wildness of everything that was going on, her heart leapt at the sound of his voice.
More evasive maneuvers as earth and sky exchanged places. Mac was getting dizzy, she struggled with unconsciousness.
“Supergirl cover my six!!”
“In your back pocket Hammer!!”
Another voice came over her headset. “Tally Ho, I’ve got a SCUD TEL ready to launch!”
Harm’s voice came back on again. “Engaging now…weapons free!!
Then she heard her own strangled voice screaming. “Eagle Flight this is Shark!! Abort! Abort! Abort! Those SCUDs are armed with Hydrogen Cyanide!!
Mac?!
She heard the explosion as Harm’s bombs found their target and Harm’s anguished voice
“No, God. Nooooo!!”
Mac shielded her eyes as a bright white cloud filled the sky. She heard the pilot say something unintelligible…and then nothing as darkness enveloped her.
~~**~~**~~**~~
“Ma’am? Ma’am?! Ma’am!!”
Mac opened her eyes to see Kayce Danvers looking at her with unveiled concern. Burges was stealing shocked glances at her as well. “Geez ma’am, you scared us; are you all right?”
Mac coughed to hide her embarrassment. “I’m fine Corporal, my apologies…” She couldn’t tell them. How could she? No matter, she wasn’t going to let either vision become reality. She was going to find and stop those missiles.
“No sweat ma’am,” Burges replied quickly to her apology.
Kayce quickly followed his lead. “Yeah ma’am, we’ve all done it before, it’s no big deal, right Don?”
Don Burges nodded his head in affirmation. “Absolutely; don’t worry about it ma’am…” Or did he say it just to get the women off this obviously unnerving subject?
As Mac looked around to make sure she hadn’t dropped anything during her fatigue induced nap, she didn’t see Corporal Burges mouth to Kayce;
“Guilty conscience about something Darcy made her do.”
Kayce couldn’t believe that Mac was on Colonel Livingston’s side, but quickly decided if she was, then they would have to resolve that issue before this mission could proceed.
*~*
Harm was lying in his bunk, trying his best to read through the legalese that Captain Seranovich had given him, but it was a losing battle, just as it had been many times when he was on the Patrick Henry off the Balkan coast. His fellow pilots including Skates, Boomer, and X-Man usually found ‘Pappy’ sound asleep, buried in the carrier wing’s legal administrivia.
As he read the Wing’s Rules of Engagement for a third time…his mind simply refused to make sense of the words….
~~**~~**~~**~~
Then the papers fell away…and he saw a trio of camouflaged pickup trucks headed into a wadi. From where he was standing, he could see miles and miles of wasteland…land desiccated and left barren by Saddam’s orders to drain the wetlands in this area.
As Harm watched in horror, a group of Force Recon Marines began shooting into the wadi with rifles and heavy weapons. First the rear vehicle caught fire. Harm ran to the edge of the crevasse and began shouting…
“Mac! Get out of there Mac!! It’s a trap!!”
He could see the Light Colonel manning the lead vehicle’s machinegun. Harm’s voice echoed off the steep, nearly vertical walls of the wash.
She waved when she heard him. Then the second pickup truck slowed and then burst into flame. That only left Mac’s plucky little vehicle in that deathtrap.
“Mac! Look out behind you!!”
The Marine Light Colonel looked up just in time to see one of Darcy’s Marines hoist a SWAW assault weapon and aim for her truck. As the driver of her truck swung sharply to the right, Mac swung her machinegun in the opposite direction and caught the soldier with a long burst before he could trigger his weapon.
Mac again waved, and Harm thought she was seeing him and then Mac looked up. Zooming over the wadi was a pair of low flying F-14’s.
The former Top Gun heard Mac’s strangled report as she yelped into her radio.
“Shark to Eagle! Shark to Eagle!! Enemy anti-air in area!! Abort! Abort!!”
Harm could see the missile flash as the F-14’s began to climb. The first plane corkscrewed out of danger, but the second didn’t. In less than a second, the missile slammed into the hapless Tomcat.
Above the terrifying explosion, Harm could hear Mac screaming.
“OH MY GOD!!”
The shattered Navy fighter jet plummeted toward the ground. On the side of the plane under the pilot’s cockpit position, the name ‘Hammer’ was rapidly being consumed by the flames billowing from the dying aircraft.
Suddenly Harm found himself inside the cart-wheeling aircraft. Nothing worked; the ground was quickly rising to meet him and his doomed plane.
~~**~~**~~**~~
Harm felt himself buck in his rack as the plane hit the ground. His eyes flew open just as another plane was launched on the deck several levels above his head. He was in his rack on board the Patrick Henry. Harm wiped sweat from his face, another indicator of the impact of his ordeal.
“It was so real….” His pilot’s mind argued.
“It was just a dream…” His logical lawyer’s mind argued back.
“But you haven’t been having dreams lately, Hammer,” his pilot’s mind fought back, “These are visions…! Just like Mac’s….”
“Next you’re going to start carrying a lucky rabbit’s foot,” the lawyer’s mind retorted snidely.
“Great,” grumbled Harm as he swung himself out of his rack, “mental arguments in stereo…”
Still there was an undercurrent of unease that was creeping into his mind. Since this investigation began he and Mac had been having, if not visions, then prophetic dreams. At first they had seemed to foreshadow some future mission Harm or Mac was going to undertake. Then they centered on the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters. And now they focused once again on that future mission and Mac. Or was it a future mission? He was on the Patrick Henry now, there was a very real possibility that he could involved in a ground attack mission that could lead to him getting killed. What should he do? What could he do?
1907 Local/1707 Zulu
Somewhere North of Mirbullah
Lance Corporal Arnold Bledsoe pulled down his face cover and his features were instantly engulfed in a cloud of billowing sand.
“Close your crumb catcher and keep that mask up, Bledsoe,” growled Reynolds, “Or you’re gonna be pukin’ dirt for the next month….”
Despite being dusted by the talcum powder-like sand, Bledsoe reluctantly pulled his mask back into place. He wasn’t reluctant because he wanted to swallow sand; it was more of an on-going personality conflict with Reynolds. He didn’t like the guy and really didn’t care to follow any of his orders. But, he also didn’t want to do anymore push-ups like he’d had to do for Colonel MacKenzie, so he sucked it up. “Aye, aye, Staff Sergeant….”
Reynolds looked at Victor/Cesar and shook his head. It was the unspoken language of Sergeants meaning ‘this guy needs to be cut loose’. In a normal unit this meant kicking him out of the platoon, but Victor Galindez wondered what did Reynolds mean? Did he want to kill Bledsoe?
Victor furtively eyed the Lance Corporal. He had heard the guy was a hard case and had thought he could bully the Colonel [since she really wasn’t a Force Recon soldier] until she set him straight. Apparently Darcy wasn’t too impressed with him either; otherwise Reynolds would probably be ignoring his antics.
Arnold Bledsoe sighed theatrically. Not loud enough for Reynolds to hear him but loud enough for his buddies to hear him.
“We are in the middle of bravo foxtrot nowhere!” he groused just loud enough for them to hear. “Just what the heck do they think is out here?”
Corporal Jim Stallings gave his buddy a wry smirk. “Beats me man; if you want to know what I think, I think the Colonel and Master Guns have been listening to the good idea fairy…”
Arnold Bledsoe chuckled and turned to his other buddy, Evan Mickens. “So, what do you think?”
Corporal Mickens just shrugged his shoulders. “I just do what the Staff Sergeant tells me to do…”
“‘I just do what the Staff Sergeant tells me to do…’ mimicked Stallings. “Geez, Evan, you sound like a little robot--”
Lance Corporal Crockett didn’t like the way Stallings rode Mickens. He leaned in close. “Corporal, I’d rather be a robot than have Reynolds’ boot up my six.”
Jim Stallings eyes narrowed to anger filled slits. “Who asked you, Lance Criminal?”
Arnold wanted to avoid this situation getting out of hand or even back to the Master Guns or Staff Sergeant Reynolds “Get real, Davy; Reynolds isn’t like that--”
Evan Mickens wasn’t in the mood for Jim’s or Arnold’s antics; besides Reynolds had already warned Arnold once. The new Light Colonel had set the standard. Despite what Jim and Arnold might think, rules and chain of command would be followed.
“Says you, buddy…I don’t want to rile the Staff Sergeant or the Master Guns.”
“What? Are you scared of the Master Guns, Evan?”
Victor had been listening to this give and take between the enlisted men, wanting to see where it would lead. When it was obvious that this was just grousing between enlisted soldiers and nothing else, ‘Cesar’ decided to take his cue from Evan Mickens.
“Gentlemen, is there a problem?”
Victor/Cesar’s question was met with hushed chorus of ‘No, Master Guns’. He noticed that while the rest of the enlisted men avoided his penetrating gaze, Arnold Bledsoe seemed to be amused by it.
Victor decided to turn his bad persona on the instigator of this unrest.
“Bledsoe if I were you, I’d concentrate on making sure your mask is clean and doesn’t have any nicks or cuts,” Victor said as he folded his map and stuffed it back in his uniform shirt pocket. He fixed the stunned Lance Corporal with an almost evil smile. “Cause I don’t want to have to haul your lifeless body out of my way in case we get attacked.”
Bledsoe’s cocky demeanor vanished. “Aye, aye, Master Guns.”
*~*
Harm decided that sleep without more disturbing images just wasn’t going to come. He resolved to clear his mind by heading up to Vulture’s Row and have the aircraft taking off and landing blast his mind clean.
As Harm headed up the ladder stairwell to the next deck, he ran into the Commander of the Air Group, better known as the CAG, coming down the stairs.
“Evening CAG,” Harm said hurriedly. The aviator/attorney was still smarting from the CAG ordering him not to fly combat air patrol over Camp Chesty Puller after the insurgent rocket attack.
“Commander,” The CAG was not unaware of the effects of their previous meeting. Still, the Head of the Patrick Henry’s Air Group knew that Harm wouldn’t dispute why he had been grounded, even if he didn’t like or agree with the reason. “Headed to Vulture’s Row?”
Harm stopped his upward progress. “Yes sir.”
“Can’t sleep?”
The JAG Corps officer started to rebut that interrogative. “No sir, I -” Harm trailed off knowing that CAG probably knew he was worried about his JAGMAN team. “—uh, yes sir.” The former Top Gun’s eyes were cast downward to avoid the piercing look from the Air Group Commander.
“Look Rabb, you know why I had to keep you from flying CAP over Chesty Puller, don’t you?” He really hoped the leader of VF-218 understood. Harm was not much younger than the CAG, but it was enough of a difference for there to be a gap between them.
Harm though, was experienced enough to know that sometimes unpopular and unpleasant decisions had to be made. It was part of being a senior officer. Harm was beginning to understand more and more why Admiral Chegwidden had ordered him not to go to Paraguay.
“Yes sir, I do understand.”
The CAG gave him a quick mirthless smile. “Then I hope you’ll understand why I’m about to upset the applecart even more.”
“Sir?”
“With Lieutenant Ribkins down with this flu bug, I’m going to have to do some rearranging of your squadron.”
Harm wasn’t sure what the CAG was telling him. “Meaning sir?”
It was obvious that the CAG didn’t like doing this anymore than Harm wanted to hear it. “Meaning Commander Hollands has to have a RIO, Commander. I’m giving her your RIO….”
Shuffling of pilots and Radar Intercept Officers had become commonplace in the last few days, so Harm had been expecting someone is his group to be moved around, but he hadn’t figured on ‘Pitcher’ Rodriguez. Still, he tried to be a team player. “Yes, sir….”
“Your RIO will be one of the other recruits we picked up from Baghdad along with you and Lieutenant Rodriguez; Pete Gibbons. He’s a pilot who was assigned as an ANGLICO to 1st Marine Air Wing and spent most of Iraqi Freedom riding a HMMWV rather than jockeying his usual mount.”
Now Harm was a little worried. With this current situation and critical need for pilots and weapons officers, they might start to pull pilots from other aircraft, like the Hornet. Scuttlebutt among the pilots was that CENTCOM was scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of Tomcat pilots. There weren’t as many in the air as there used to be. With replacement parts for these fighter jets getting harder and harder to find, more and more squadrons were being stood down. That meant more chance that any new people might not be as familiar with the ‘Cat.
“And his usual mount, CAG?”
The CAG understood Harm’s worry. They weren’t hitting bottom yet in terms of pilots, but they were getting close. “Tomcats, Commander. He’s a good RIO. And you need a good RIO.”
“Sir I-”
The CAG didn’t have time to argue with a lawyer, let alone the strength for it. So, he decided to just lay his case out for the JAG Corps lawyer – a fait accompli “Let me finish, Commander. I’m not saying Pitcher isn’t good, but you need someone who’s just as good as Rodriguez. Since I can’t clone him, you get Gibbons, understood?”
“Understood sir.”
“Good. You two can fly a night patrol before you hit the rack and then a dawn patrol. That should give you time for you two to get to know each other.”
“Yes sir.”
*~*
Gill Basilone was dead tired. Flying back and forth to Baghdad as much as he and his crew had been doing lately was taking a toll -- as was the continuing body count. They had just finished delivering Carlson Ebbits’ body to graves registration in Baghdad. He and Carlson had been good friends. He knew the Lieutenant didn’t like or trust Colonel Livingston and Gill thought that this Black Widow as Carlson had called her might have had something to do with his death.
If that was the case, Gill decided he was going to find out for certain and stop her, even if it killed him.
Lieutenant Basilone stole quietly up to the building with the sign MARINE EXPEDITIONARY UNIT – SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMMAND: DETACHMENT TWO tacked on the outside wall. Standing there and listening through an open window, especially one where they could see that he was obviously listening to them, was a dumb idea. But there was an open side window as well, one where he didn’t think they would really be able to see him as he crouched by it and listened.
His blood chilled as he listened to the conversation between Jacques Lewis, Commander of Company A of the Marine Infantry Battalion, and Darcy Livingston, Commanding Officer of the 2nd Marine Division Force Recon Battalion. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Gill wished he had a notepad or even a pencil. He never would have suspected these two of treason…and multiple murders.
What Gill heard next shocked him the most.
“You know lady, Samir’s men failed to find and silence that little tramp Dodge married. Sure they wrecked JAG Headquarters and killed a bunch of Marines and Sailors, but that really doesn’t do us any good. I could have taken in a sniper team and eliminated her and that stogy Admiral and his band of merry men a lot more efficiently than the blunt way they handled it.”
“Ah, but you were here with me, Cher, and you couldn’t exactly get away unnoticed, now could you?”
“I’m just saying Dodge’s wife is a liability as long as she is alive. She knows too much – just like ole Dodgie did.”
What Gill Basilone heard sickened him and now he understood that Lieutenant Dodge had just been one of several unfortunate people to have stumbled onto Jac and Darcy’s plans. No wonder JAG and NCIS were hanging around here! It all made sense now. Colonel Briggs’ behavior…the botched attack on Mirbullah…the death of Dodge…and the JAGMAN investigation implosion – it all fit together like a neat little intricate puzzle. Did they really think that by attacking JAG Headquarters that they could disrupt courts martial? Then he heard them discussing more recent events.
“So Cesar is back?”
“Yes, he took that meddlesome Gunnery Sergeant Galindez’s identity.”
“The guy who gave us so much trouble in Afghanistan?”
“The very same, Cher. Anyway, he’s keeping an eye on Colonel MacKenzie for us. Rudy didn’t like it. Probably liked it about as much as Devin did being caught by Gibbs….”
“That was Devin’s own damn fault. The moron was skulking around like a stereotypical secret agent. Stuck out like a sore thumb. I’m surprised they didn’t catch him sooner. Don’t worry though, Richards is smart…he won’t talk. He knows what the payoff is if he keeps his trap shut and he knows the guards will have an ‘accident’ with him if does blab….”
The more Gill heard, the more he realized what danger he was in if they ever found out what he was doing. He was trapped. He prayed that Darcy and Jac would end their conversation soon, that he would be able to get away unscathed. But things he learned as they continued to talk only seemed to get worse and worse.
“I tell you Jacques, these Iraqi lunatic fringe they are like a..a pitbull; you get them riled up and tell them someone has defiled their group and let them do the attacking. It leaves our hands free for other…business.”
“You said it lady, all we have to do is sit back and wait for the bullets to stop flying…we come up smelling like roses. So what about that lady JAG-- you know, the Light Colonel--is she really on your side now?”
“I don’t know whether she is or not, hon. What I do know is that whatever she is doing, plays perfectly into our next move….”
“And that is?”
“Putting the fear of Allah into this unit!”
“I hate when you get all Muslim radical on me, Darcy. It gives me the creeps, you know?”
“Do not worry, cher. You have been made an instrument and you are someone I can completely trust.”
“Oh yeah? An *instrument* and someone you can trust?”
“Yes, Cher. In less than twelve hours, Samir has told me that his missiles will be ready for launching against this unit, Mirbullah and al Nasiriyah. While Samir, his Mujahedeen and Saddam’s Fedayeen are cleaning up the remnants of the 36th, you and I and our select team will cross over and join Samir in the confusion. Officially we will be among the casualties, but in reality we will have joined our Arab brethren and will work to make Iraq and all of Arabia into a theocracy!”
“Listen lady, that theocracy bull may get you all excited, but the only thing I’m looking for is a way to disappear. The DSD has labeled me a rogue agent, which puts a big fat price on my head. As long as Samir, Saddam and bin Laden can cough up the dough and/or the equivalent in opportunities so that I can ply my trade, I’ll do whatever you…and they need me to do.”
“That’s all I ask, cher, that you keep doing what you do best.”
Gill’s legs were cramping from standing in this position for so long, but he dared not move or even breathe heavy for fear they would discover him. He fought to not succumb to the sharp pains from his knotted calf muscles. Then when it seemed he could stand the pain no longer….
“Well, I gotta head back to my Company and make sure that moron Hawkins is up to temporarily taking charge while I play spy with you. Between him and that dope, Kelly, they should end up getting most of the battalion killed. When did Briggs say this show is supposed to start?”
“0600 local, Cher.”
“And what time is Samir’s missile strike planned for?”
“0620; just a long enough delay for Colonel Briggs to get everyone out there to the site. Then the rockets will be fired and 36th MEU will just be another memorial marker in Washington.”
“Heck lady, with all we’ve been doing, they’ll probably have a special War on Terror monument made with regards to what we’ve done.”
“We’ll both go down in history, cher, once this is over, as two real heroes.”
“Well, enough waxing poetic. Gotta get Hawkins ready for his big assignment. By your leave, Colonel.”
“Captain.”
It was obvious that the meeting was over. Gill breathed a silent prayer of thanks as Captain Lewis opened the door to Darcy’s quarters and after he closed it, hustled toward the infantry battalion headquarters area.
Considering everything he had learned, Gill didn’t know who he could trust. It seemed that Darcy’s cancer had infected almost every unit in the MEU, including, it seemed, Colonel Briggs. Gill had to find a way to talk to those JAGs and the NCIS Agents. They were the only ones he could trust.
--More to come...
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