| Subject: Re: ...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 25d, part two - conclusion |
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TxJAG_b
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Date Posted: 15:33:43 01/11/09 Sun
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TxJAG_b
's message, "...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 25d, part two - continued" on 16:25:09 01/08/09 Thu
A/N: Okay, here we are - the final part for 25d part two - up next - the good guys and bad guys - a talley sheet of who's who. On with the story....
Don Burges kept his low beams on as the twilight began to fade to inky black. Mac knew they had passed six, maybe seven farms and now they were entering some low hills.
In the fading light it dawned on Mac that the Iraqi battalion defensive position could easily pass for one of these low ‘hills’ and that they could stumble right into it. Or right into an ambush.
The Light Colonel quickly got on her radio and told Gunny Dallas to pull off the rutted trail.
Sergeant Williams pulled off followed by Burges. Eddie Willet pulled to a stop on the trail.
Victor hopped out of the bed of Willet’s truck and hustled over to where Mac and Kayce were standing.
“What gives, Colonel?” He asked casually.
“With all these hills around us, this would be the perfect area for the enemy battalion defensive position, Master Guns, don’t you think?”
Victor looked around at surrounding hills “Um, yeah…” He said abstractedly. It was a perfect act…followed up by Mac’s faultless ‘angry officer’ look.
Master Guns Victor/Cesar masterfully picked up on the cue. “Uh, I mean, yes ma’am.”
Mac heaved a disgusted sigh. “Take Szymas, Mickens, and Danvers and scout up ahead.”
The Master Guns decided it was better to follow orders at this point rather than playing out this charade any further. “Aye, aye Colonel.”
He motioned to the three mentioned by Mac. They quietly followed the Master Gunnery Sergeant away from the assembled group.
The unit’s staff sergeants didn’t need any urging. They soon had the rest of the group arrayed in a 360 degree defense. Mac couldn’t help but feel a small bit of pride at her unit’s quick response.
Apparently nothing they were doing right now was interfering with Darcy’s plans, so there wasn’t any reason for them to show their hand at this point. Mac had to be careful; this unit could turn on her at any moment. She had to keep reminding herself that these Marines, no matter how friendly they might be at the moment, were actually traitors and most likely cold-blooded killers.
Whether that included Kayce and the other new recruits, only time would tell. Until then, she had to be on her guard with everyone…with the exception of Sergeant Szymas and, of course, Gunny.
“Uh, Colonel?”
It was one of the more seasoned Marines – Calapango. Lucas Calapango was not your ordinary stereotypical native of Tonga. He could best be described as a tall drink of water; tall and lean.
“Yes Corporal?”
“Staff Sergeant Dallas sent me over here to act as your aide until Corporal Danvers gets back from her recon mission with the Master Guns. Um, is there anything that you need?”
Mac shook her head as she scanned with her night vision enhanced binoculars the area where Gunny and others were. “No thank you, Corporal, not right now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
With her peripheral vision, the Light Colonel could see the tall corporal join her in her silent vigil.
“Colonel?”
“Yes Corporal?”
“You liked Lieutenant Carlson, didn’t you?”
Mac was caught off guard by the forthrightness of the question. Either he was probing her or he honestly wanted to see if she felt some warmth toward the former leader of this unit. Calapango had watched the way she had held Carlson Ebbits when he was dying.
“Yes Corporal, I did…” Mac’s voice faltered.
Lucas Calapango’s voice faltered as well. Was it an act? “We did too, ma’am, we call him…I mean, we called him Butterbar…”
The Light Colonel turned and gave the Corporal a quizzical look.“Butterbar?”
The Corporal gave her a sad sheepish smile. It made his face appear almost boyish. “Yes ma’am. You see, it took him so long to get his first Lieutenant bar, we just started calling him that, and the name stuck. Truthfully ma’am, I think he liked being 2nd Looie, better….”
Mac felt herself slipping, letting her guard down as she gave the Corporal an empathetic smile. “And why is that Corporal?”
His blunt answer shocked her. “Because the further up you go in this unit, ma’am, the more you realize it’s suffering from dry rot.”
“Dry rot?” Mac asked casually, trying not to let her real reaction his revelation be revealed. She wondered whether or not the Corporal shared Sergeant Szymas’ sentiments that Darcy Livingston had to be stopped.
Mac could see a steel determination in the young Tongan’s eyes. “Yes ma’am…”
Mac walked out onto a limb with her next question.
“You think he didn’t like Colonel Livingston?”
His answer would have been comforting if she was sure of his allegiance. “Not to speak ill of the dead in terms of disrespecting senior officers, Colonel, but Butterbar not only didn’t like her, he didn’t trust her either…he thought she was evil incarnate.”
“Colonel!” The hissing insistent voice was that of Staff Sergeant Corbin.
Mac turned toward the shadowy figure. “What is it Staff Sergeant?”
“The Master Guns just returned, ma’am. He reports that the road ahead is mined and the bridge over the next wash has been booby trapped….”
“Then we must be close….” Mac said thinking aloud. They had stopped just in time. If they had gone any further they would have been blown to kingdom come.
Corbin moved closer to the two Marines. “Calapango, report to Sergeant Dallas, I’ll stay with the Colonel.”
The Corporal gave recon Staff Sergeant a look of disbelief. Was he going to kill her right here, right now? His response to his ‘request’ stumbled out his mouth.
“A-Aye sir.”
As the Master Guns and his scouts reported to the Light Colonel, Lucas Calapango made his way to where Staff Sergeant Dallas stood waiting.
“Sergeant Dallas?”
“Yeah Calapango?”
Dallas could see the pleading look in the Corporal’s face and hear it in his voice. “Do we have to do this?”
The last thing he and Corbin needed right now was one of the younger Marines being bewitched by this Light Colonel and her silver tongue. “You going soft in the head, Corporal, having second thoughts?” He snapped harshly. “Do I have to remind you she got Butterbar killed?”
“N-No Staff Sergeant,” Corporal Calapango said stiffly, stinging from this rebuke. Dallas had been like a father to him up till now. “Sorry Staff Sergeant. It’s just…well, she just doesn’t seem like someone who’s on Colonel Livingston’s side…she didn’t kill Butterbar.”
Dallas gave him a paternal pat on his shoulder. “She kills by proxy, son, that’s how she got where she is. Corporal, if we’re going to get out of this mission alive, we have to stop Colonel Livingston and we have to neutralize that legal eagle. She and the Master Guns are wolves in sheep’s clothing…don’t forget that, son.”
“Aye, aye Staff Sergeant….” Corporal Calapango was back on track.
“Good man; now hustle over there to Sergeant Reynolds and tell him we’re getting ready to move out in a few minutes…."
Calapango nodded and then trotted over to where Staff Sergeant Reynolds and the others were positioned by Sergeant Williams pickup truck.
Mark Dallas shook his head. This Silver Leaf legal eagle was more dangerous than they had first thought. If she could turn Calapango’s head that easily, they’d have to kill her sooner than they had planned. He wouldn’t let her and Colonel Livingston get away with whatever they had in mind. And if this Light Colonel began turning heads in the unit now, their plan would be doomed.
Joe Corbin, Mark’s long time friend and partner in this distasteful, but necessary, task walked up and stood beside him. They looked out toward their supposed objective.
“Problem?” Joe said as he fished in his pocket for a cigarette and then lit it, never once looking at Mark.
Mark did the same. The junior enlisted in this unit had gotten used to seeing these two standing like this, smoking cigarettes. No one suspected them of using these ‘meetings’ for anything other than an exchange of ideas or friendly banter. They each took a drag on their cigarettes.
“No, the kid just thinks this legal weenie has a heart.” That comment elicited an eye roll and a disgusted shake of the head from Staff Sergeant Corbin “…she told him some cock and bull about how she liked Butterbar…”
Joe gave his buddy a bitter laugh. “Boy, she is good. Do you think he’ll be trouble?”
“Calapango’s like us.” Mark reassured his doubting friend. “He wants to stop Colonel Livingston as bad as we do,”
Joe dropped his half-finished cigarette and mercilessly crushed it with his boot against a rock. “Then we’re going to have to make our move soon. We’re running out of time…”
Victor meanwhile laid out for Mac what he and the scouts had seen. Mac, Sergeant Szymas and Kayce, arrayed in a semi-circle around the Master Guns looked down at the map on the hood of Willet’s truck.
“The trail is lousy with mines. Mostly anti-personnel, Colonel, but a few anti-tank mines sprinkled in for good measure. And a couple of IEDs just to keep us guessing if we make it through the mines.”
“And there’s soft sand on the right that leads down to the wadi, ma’am.” Casmir Szymas added. That ruled out trying to bypass the obstacle by going around it on that side.
Mac didn’t waste any time discussing the possibility of making it through the minefield. There was no way they could bull or finesse their way through that in time for them to reach the IRP on time “What about the left hand side?”
“We couldn’t get over there to check, Colonel,” Kayce admitted.
That was the last thing the Light Colonel wanted to hear. They had to reach their initial rally point before 2200, according to Darcy’s time schedule.
Mac sighed wearily. “Master Guns, any ideas?”
Victor decided right now was not the time for a ‘Cesar’ response. “Sorry Colonel.”
“Um, Colonel?”
Everyone turned to see the unit Corpsman – everyone referred to him as ‘Doc Yader’. Up to this point, Mac really hadn’t talked to him, other than formal introductions.
Victor gave him a scowl. “What’s up Yader, someone sick?”
The Corpsman gave Victor/Cesar a quick cutting look. “No, Master Guns, uh, Colonel, I know a way around the minefield.”
“Doc?” Mac noticed that Casmir Szymas was obviously surprised by this news.
“I was part of a SEAL team that did recon in this area shortly before the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom,” Yader explained, “I’ll guide Sergeant Williams and the rest of you can follow, ma’am.”
“Colonel….” Mac noted that this was Victor, warning her that Doc Yader wasn’t what he appeared to be. But the Light Colonel had precious few other options.
“Okay, Doc, we’ll do it your way.”
*~*
Sturgis Turner had gone to bed early. Rumors had flown through the camp all day about a retaliatory strike against the terrorists. The Marines were champing at the bit, ready to deal out some hurt of their own. Deep down, Sturgis was worried they were being baited.
Unfortunately, their prisoners - former Regional Investigative Coordinator Phillips, PFC Secord, and Corporal Richards – had given up little if anything useful about the insurgents. They acted as if the current mayhem had nothing to do with the insurgents under their control. He knew Special Agent Gibbs didn’t believe that. And he didn’t either. But they also didn’t have any solid leads about the insurgents’ next move. It was as if the insurgents were one step ahead in this whole thing.
They knew that Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis were involved somehow, they just couldn’t pin her or Lewis down.
Mac was working on the inside of Darcy’s unit, but time was running out. The Chaplain’s son figured that the rocket attack on the DFAC was a probe to see how strong the Marine defenses were. Were they ready to launch their missiles now?
Lack of any solid evidence left him and everyone in the team frustrated. Chaplain Turner’s son decided to call it a night and turn in. But even in the supposed solace of slumber, he couldn’t escape his anxiety and it took a form he wished it hadn’t….
It seemed innocuous enough at first. A simple game of one-on-one basketball with his old academy mate, Harm, at Stonewall Jackson Park. Only he was missing every shot. Even the easy ones.
Harm was his usual easy going self, telling Sturgis to just relax, be himself.
The open-air court was soon replaced by cool smooth steel walls. Sturgis was looking down at his report, he felt sweat roll off him and hit with a wet splat on his clipboard.
Suddenly a klaxon began blaring. A voice boomed over the ship’s intercom:
“Lieutenant Turner report to the Captain’s quarters!”
It was Lieutenant Flager’s voice. As in all dreams, Sturgis knew the future for Flager held Captaincy of USS Watertown.
Sturgis Turner found himself standing in the Captain’s quarters, sweating profusely. Oddly enough, as you do in dreams, he wished he would have taken a shower after the basketball game before coming down here.
Before he could put together another thought, the Captain of the USS Watertown got right in his face.
“You’re done Turner!” He snarled “You hear me?! Finished!!”
Sturgis wanted to explain, wanted to say something, but there really wasn’t anything to say. No apology would be sufficient, and he wasn’t the type to make excuses or blame someone else. It was his responsibility and his alone. Any congratulations for success or blames for failure rested solely with him.
For what?
For his mistake. For his failure. For what was going make him a land-locked Dolphin.
“Captain, I take full responsibil--”
“You’re damned right you do!” He hissed, “I want you off my boat as soon as we dock!”
“Do you read me, Mister?”
“Do you read me, Mister?!”
“Do you?!”
“Well, do you?!”
Sturgis Turner woke up with a start. His sheets were a tangled mess. He sat up in bed and looked around. It was still dark outside. He laid back down, trying to push those thoughts of failure from his mind.
He had never told Harm, Diane, Luke, Keeter or Mac, or anyone for that matter, what had happened on the Watertown.
The Admiral knew, but he didn’t hold it against him. Sturgis had been an exemplary officer since that time. And a superb JAG Corps attorney. But because one careless mistake had cost him his submarine career, he now made it a point to be a ‘detail person’. No minutia was too minor to overlook. It sometimes drove his clients and his opponents crazy, but he would never again let something small and insignificant cause such a radical change to his life.
His Dad had told him once after the incident, ‘Son, everything happens for a reason. When one door closes, another one opens…’
Sturgis made sure he grabbed onto that door as soon as it opened. But in last few months, he had been reminded of those small things that can destroy your career.
Dealing with Bud Robert’s problems and seeing what happened to his old Academy buddy, almost on a daily basis, served to remind him just how little it would take to destroy his career as a JAG Corps officer.
That’s what drove him to ride Bud. That’s why he constantly clashed with Mac and Harm over matters that they often dismissed as forgivable offenses. Sturgis never again wanted to be placed in those crosshairs because of an oversight of any sort.
But he couldn’t tell anyone. That’s why he was so strict, so methodical, so unbending. They would never understand. How could they? Sure, they were what some would call ‘loose cannons,’ but they had never done anything like he had done….
No, Sturgis Turner had to face this demon alone. And he was determined not to lose.
*~*
Doc Yader had been right. While it didn’t take as long as it would have to negotiate that minefield, they still lost time as they worked their way down into the left side of the wash and then back out on the other side and on the trail again. The ground on this side of the wadi was more solid, so Mac decided the best course of action was to head in as straight a line as possible toward the initial rally point.
Their little convoy was as before, with Sergeant Williams leading and Corporal Willet serving as rear guard. Mac turned around and looked through the back window into the bed of the truck. Though it was now dark, she could clearly see the Marines sitting back there. Along with Sergeant Bradenton and Corporal Calapango and their unit’s forward observer 2nd Lieutenant Oscar Flemming, they were joined by Sergeant Szymas [who had switched with Doc Yader so he could ride in Williams’ truck], and Corporal Logan.
Mac didn’t know much about ‘Ronnie’ Logan, only that she had been with one of Darcy’s other platoons and was transferred to Mac’s unit to replace one of the recon soldiers who was showing signs of coming down with the flu.
When the JAG Corps officer had asked about Corporal Logan, Kayce told her Darcy had more than one den mother who took out new recruits. Those recruits who passed the test were assigned to different units. The Corporal added that they had just ‘got lucky and got all the new ones’.
The Light Colonel had noticed that with the addition of Logan, that now more of her unit was made up of newbies than either of Darcy’s other platoons. That worried her. Was there a reason, other than happenstance for this? Mac didn’t like thinking about that. Whatever Darcy was up to, it might require that Mac’s platoon to be composed of mostly green recruits.
She turned back to Kayce who seemed to be alone with her thoughts.
“Thinking about home, Corporal?” Mac asked in a friendly tone.
“Wha? Uh, no ma’am.” Kayce had apparently been deep in thought. “I was thinking about my old ROTC commander at Sacramento College. He’s the one who encouraged me to join the Corps.”
Mac wondered what had triggered those thoughts.
“I was a tomboy growing up if you hadn’t guessed that already,” Kayce said with a wry smile. “Sort of had to be one, my Dad had wanted a boy, and when he got a girl, he determined that she was going to be able to protect herself. So in his own way, he made me tough.”
“So why become a sniper?” It seemed like a natural question to ask.
“Part of my upbringing, ma’am. Learned to shoot when I was very young. Remember, Dad had wanted a boy. I tried to fill those shoes. Went from there. Got really good with rifles. My boyfriends liked to take me to a shooting range and have me pose as a princess. When some jerk would bet that I couldn’t fire a rifle without falling down, let alone hit a target, I got to show them that I was a crack shot.”
“So you hustled them.”
Kayce’s smile grew wider when she remembered those times. “You could say that. I wasn’t a dainty flower, ma’am.” She then abruptly shifted her interest. “What about you?”
Mac decided if she avoided the question, it would only create more questions. So she decided to give a version of her background. “Grew up in Arizona; Dad in the Corps, mother one generation removed from the Reservation. You could say my Dad wanted me to be tough too, but I wasn’t as receptive as you were to the idea.”
Empathy filled Kayce’s voice. “He beat your Mom, didn’t he?”
It caught Mac off guard. She did the only thing she knew to do even though it would probably arouse suspicion. “I’d rather not talk about it,” the Light Colonel snapped, suddenly brusque.
But Kayce was understanding of what she thought was a defensive response due to nervousness about an officer letting herself get too familiar with enlisted personnel. “It’s okay ma’am. Both Don and I had tough fathers. Mine was a beat cop; Don’s was in Army Special Forces.”
It was apparent that Kayce and Don knew each other. Maybe that was the reason Kayce had ended up in this unit. How she had missed the familiarity between these two made Mac even more nervous. What else had she missed? “You and Corporal Burges?” she speculated.
Kayce let out an amused chuckle. Don looked away from his driving for moment, embarrassment coloring his features. “No ma’am, we’re just good friends. We both went to Sacramento State, Colonel. Kayce helped me with my language studies.”
“Coming up on our initial rally point, Colonel.” Sergeant Williams reported over the radio, interrupting the little ‘bonding moment’ they were having. Sarah MacKenzie inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. But she knew this probe was far from over. She’d have to be more careful from here on in.
SEAL Team ‘Rat Patrol’
Initial Rally Point (IRP)
Somewhere Northwest of Mirbullah
The SEAL CO, Commander Brad May, had his team well concealed in the underbrush just to the south of the Force Recon platoon.
Brad had to admit to a smidgen of pride. Despite the fact that his unit was rather ‘vehicle heavy’ with three desert patrol vehicles [DPVs] and three HMMWVs, they were definitely well concealed. His men had done an excellent job of camouflaging their vehicles and fighting positions at this IRP.
He’d even lay odds that ole Darcy’s team would never spot them.
They had been watching this platoon since they left Camp Chesty Puller. Despite their native garb and technicals, Ebbits’ unit really did stick out like a sore thumb.
At least it looked that way to Commander May.
For the last hour, the Galveston, Texas native had been surveying Ebbits’ platoon. Not much had happened. After their CO and her senior Sergeants had directed everyone to dig in, Darcy’s lead unit in this operation had been relatively quiet. It was as if they were waiting for something.
Brad told his men to keep their eyes peeled for any movement in the recon platoon’s camp. Their man inside Ebbits’ unit had warned them that ‘something’ was ‘getting ready to happen’.
What, he didn’t know, but he knew it involved the new CO.
From what the SEAL officer could tell, the Force Recon CO looked to be pretty ‘by-the-book’ in her running of her unit. She wasn’t as sloppy as some of Darcy’s other officers. It was too bad this woman was a traitor to her country….
He knew it was unusual for Force Recon teams to be run by female officer, but Darcy was woman, so it stood to reason that she would entrust a mission of this importance to one of her ‘lieutenants’. The ‘something’ that was ‘getting ready to happen’ could be anything.
A meeting with al-Qaeda leaders, a resupply of Fedayeen soldiers, they could even be waiting for the SCUD missile truck that Commander May’s unit been hunting the last few weeks.
Special Agent Webb had made it clear; they were to use extreme prejudice against that target and either ensure that the missile truck couldn’t fire off its payload or they were to destroy it in such a way that it wouldn’t contaminate the countryside.
A tall order, but Brad May just considered it just another job that had to be done. That, and the neutralizing of Ebbits’ wayward unit.
Brad had left the observation position still occupied by his Master Chief Petty Officer (MCPO), Darrell Coskill. Darrell, born and raised in the piney woods of East Texas, knew all about how to stalk wild animals and to him, Ebbits’ unit was the same thing; a wild animal that had become a menace that needed to be put down.
Brad was about to take a sip from his canteen when he heard a hiss from MCPO Coskill.
“Commander, something’s going down.”
Brad screwed the lid back on his canteen and made his way back over to the observation position.
“Oh yeah? What is it Master Chief?” He asked as he slid into the foxhole with the MCPO.
Darrell had his binoculars trained on Ebbits’ position. “Looks like the new CO is having a falling out with her platoon, sir….”
*~*
Mac’s unit was securing their positions for the evening. At 0200, they would be up and on their way to their objective. Right now it was time for a little shut eye – lookouts were posted and the rest of the unit had informally gathered around the unit’s three technicals which were parked in a star shaped defensive position in the middle of their encampment.
All had been going well until Mac noticed that Staff Sergeants’ Dallas and Corbin seemed perturbed and preoccupied. More telling was Corporal Calapango; he seemed to make himself scarce, preferring to man a lookout point rather than mingling with the rest of the group.
Don Burges, who had been working on his truck, pulled himself out of the engine well when Mac and the Master Guns walked past.
“Will she hold up, Corporal?” Victor asked nonchalantly.
“I’ll make sure she gets to hell and back; ma’am, Master Guns….” Then without saying anything else, he stuck his head back in the engine compartment.
While this little exchange had taken place, Mac had noticed that the mood in their little camp had shifted, becoming unsettled…almost tense. Even Kayce seemed on edge.
Mac and Victor shared a quick worried look.
“Ma’am, Master Guns, would you step over her for a moment?”
On their guard, Mac and Victor walked over to where Staff Sergeant Dallas was standing. “What is it Sergeant Dallas?”
“Just a quick question, ma’am. Did Colonel Livingston tell you anything else about this operation?” The question seemed somewhat pointed.
“You heard my briefing Staff Sergeant,” Victor said trying not to sound irritated. “What else would she have said?”
Mark Dallas’ eyes focused on Victor. “Something about the real reason for us being out here, Master Guns…”
“What are you driving at, Staff Sergeant?”
“…you ever heard the song, Witchy Woman, by the Eagles?” asked Kayce. It was an odd question.
“Yeah, I have; now what does this have to do with Colonel Livingston, Corporal?” Mac was equally curious and irritated by these questions. Just what were they trying to learn?
For the first time, Corporal Logan spoke. “So you’re friends with Colonel Livingston?” her question was directed at both of them.
Mac looked at Victor and then at the assembled members of the recon team. (Show time…) she thought. “Yeah; we both go way back with her…." Kayce had fooled her; they all had. This unit was dirty.
That was when Victor and Mac got the surprise of their lives. Every rifle and pistol in the encampment swung toward them. “Well that’s too bad, sister,” snorted Logan, as the weapons were taken off safety.
---TBC…
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