| Subject: ...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 23c, part 3, section 3 |
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TxJAG_b
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Date Posted: 08:28:27 09/05/07 Wed
In reply to:
TxJAG_b
's message, "...For Meritorious Service" on 09:04:26 05/08/07 Tue
A/N: Sorry, I had to break up 23c so much, it was a long
chapter....
0430 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
Carly sat in her darkened office staring at the brightly lit screen of her computer. She didn’t want the light on, because she didn’t want to see the repairs being done to the room. It would remind her of that dark day all over again. Darkness was more comforting and soothing and less distracting.
She hit enter a couple of times on her keyboard, then moved her mouse to the dropdown box and selected ‘print’. In a few moments the laser printer next to her monitor spit out the typed letter. She held it up to the glow of the monitor to read the printed words.
“It works better to read with the lights on, Ma’am.” As she was saying that, Harriet Sims snapped them on, startling Major Clemons.
Carly quickly put the paper down on her desk. “Lieutenant,” she said calmly “Isn’t it a little early for you to be here?” She didn’t even mention the fact that Harriet was dressed in civilian clothes.
“I came down at the request of a concerned Sergeant,” Harriet said, moving into the office.
“A concerned Sergeant?” Carly was obviously confused. “What was he concerned about?”
“Not ‘he’ Major, she. Sergeant Givers; she was worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” Carly said, feigning indifference “Why?”
“Well it may have to do with the fact that you left your insignia on her night stand,” Harriet said moving closer to her desk. “And because you told her it was ‘all your fault’ that she almost got killed.”
Harriet saw Carly falter for a moment before regaining her stalwart Marine officer demeanor. “The Sergeant’s just overstressed from her injuries,” Carly said trying to dismiss the accusation. “I was just here tidying up a little before I went home--”
Harriet quickly snatched up the paper on Carly’s desk and began reading aloud. “Admiral Chegwidden: I take full responsibility for the injuries sustained by Sergeant Marla Givers--”
Carly tried to rip the paper out of her hand. “Give that back,” she hissed, “You have no right--”
“I have every right, ma’am,” fired back Harriet “You have a wounded Sergeant at Dominion worried sick that you’re going to do something foolish, you leave your insignia by her bedside and here is a resignation letter--”
“It’s my own damn business what I do,” growled Carly, grabbing the paper from Harriet’s hands, “And forgive me for saying so, *Lieutenant*, but it’s none of *your* damned business what I do with my life--”
Harriet grabbed her arm. “It is when you think about throwing away your career over a mistake anybody could have made, even Admiral Chegwidden.”
“He didn’t, but I did--”
“And you’re going to fix it by resigning--” Harriet stopped when she saw the haunted look in Carly’s eyes. “Oh my God, Major--”
“What do you care Lieutenant?” Carly said sarcastically with a bitter laugh. “I know you’ve wanted to slug me from day one….”
“Major…Carly…nothing is worth this.”
“You know, your ‘Mary Poppins’ attitude really makes me sick sometimes Lieutenant,” Carly lashed out, but Harriet wasn’t hurt or insulted. She knew why Carly was being so nasty.
“It’s my ‘Mary Poppins’ attitude that keeps me going Major,” said Harriet firmly. She locked eyes with the angry Major. “Now like it or not, Ma’am, people are worried about you, and I’m not about to let you do something stupid just to satisfy some warped code of honor that you’ve developed--”
“Then you better get ready to knock me out, because it’s the only way you’re going to stop me--”
Harriet Sims moved around the desk until she was facing the Major “I may just have to hit you, ma’am, but it won’t be to knock you out; it’ll be to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours!”
0750 Local
SJAG Headquarters, 36th MEU
Camp Chesty Puller
Harm saw the two men conferring for a moment with the PFC pointing towards the Commander. For whatever reason, Harm felt a bit uneasy about this person. Why he didn’t know, maybe it was his old fighter pilot’s instinct kicking in.
“Commander Rabb?”
“Yes, Sergeant?”
The enlisted man handed him a set of papers. “Your orders, sir.”
“Orders?” Harm was now genuinely mystified and his adrenaline level was rising rapidly. Just like it did before a dogfight. “Orders from whom? Admiral Chegwidden?”
“No sir, these come from CENTCOM in Bahrain.”
“CENTCOM?”
“Yes sir,” the Sergeant said obviously intent on getting to the next person on his list. “Have a good afternoon, sir.” The man saluted smartly and hurried on his way.
Harm absently returned the salute, focusing most of his attention on the documents he now held in his hands. He quickly read through the addressing information and skimmed the first paragraph.
‘…due to high levels of G-strain Influenza that are affecting the Carrier Strike Groups in the Persian Gulf area of operations, all combat qualified pilots with Reserve status are hereby ordered to report to the nearest local airbase by no later than 0900 local, 16 July 2003. Follow-up orders and duty assignments will be provided at that time…..’
Harm re-read the section again. He felt his pulse quicken as he quickly devoured the words again.
‘…all combat qualified pilots with Reserve status are hereby ordered to report to the nearest local airbase….’
He couldn’t believe what he was reading. They were bringing him back to active combat duty status. He immediately felt guilty for thanking that flu bug for giving him this opportunity to fly again.
Despite what lawyer Harmon Rabb said to his JAG Corps co-workers about how he really didn’t miss flying all the much, the truth was, deep down, he did.
It was a void that not even 1,000 flights in Sarah, or any other substitute craft for that matter, could fill.
He longed to smell the pungent tang of avgas mixed with sea spray from waves smacking the ship’s prow. The burnt rubber from landing gear tires, the muggy steam of the carrier’s catapult system, the various invigorating fragrances you could only find on a carrier at sea.
But these orders didn’t say anything about going to a carrier. All they hinted at was that CENTCOM needed combat pilots. For all he knew, he would be shipped to Kuwait to ferry fighters from the bases in those countries. Well, even a little time as a ferry pilot would do him good.
And besides it was a chance to get back in the seat of a fighter jet. Something the boy inside Harmon Rabb, jr. always loved doing. And he really never had stopped loving it.
Then a cold wave of reality hit him.
Mac.
What would she think about this?
(She’d understand,) his Tomcat jockey side rationalized, (After all, Marines know that orders have to be obeyed….)
(But she knows your track record when it comes to flying, Hammer,) His logical side argued. (How many close calls have you had?)
(Those were flukes,) the jet jock said petulantly, (Unfortunate incidents. I flew hundreds of hours over Kosovo back in 1999 and didn’t have one single problem….)
(But that was 1999,) his lawyer side argued back, (And this is 2003. Remember what happened in May and what about in June of 2001?)
(That wouldn’t have happened if I’d been in a Tomcat…and the other was due to a faulty plane….) the voice inside the jet jock’s head said sullenly.
(Are you sure about that, Hammer?) The lawyer side of him responded in its best courtroom voice. (Are you willing to bet your life on that?)
Harm grinned to himself because he knew that answer. (Damn right I am!)
He stole a quick glance at his watch. Mac would be heading to ….the practice range soon. He’d get there ahead of her so could practice what he was going to say to her. She’d understand….
He hoped.
*~*
Harm made his way over to the 36th MEU’s make-shift firing range. There were a couple of old abandoned houses on the course as well as a couple of wrecked civilian cars and trucks. There was a line of soldiers firing a mixture of automatic rifles and pistols into two separate areas.
“Cease fire, cease fire! Clear and lock all weapons! Check your targets!!”
The soldiers on the range stopped firing, cleared any rounds left in their weapons’ chambers and put them on safety. When given the all clear they began to walk down range to their targets to see how they’d done.
Harm watched Mac field stripping her rifle. She had once boasted she could do this blindfolded. He had no doubt she still could.
Mac looked up and a small smile was quickly replaced by a disgusted grimace.
“What are you doing here?” She snorted at him.
Harm gave her his best angry look. “You and I need to talk. Now.” He hissed.
“We can talk right here, Commander,” she said coldly. Even though she was really happy to see him, she couldn’t let anyone here know that, lest they tell Darcy. So she had to make it look good.
He forcefully grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him, “We’ll talk over here, Colonel.” At an earlier time here in the camp, he had done the same thing, although more by accident than anything else, this time it was deliberate.
“Let go of my arm or I’ll rip yours out of your socket, Swabbie!” she growled.
“Die trying, Jarhead. We’re gonna talk now!”
All the Marines at the range watched this wild exchange. No one said anything. Then two Marines turned to the others.
“Uh, shouldn’t…uh, shouldn’t we do something?” said the taller of the two. His partner looked ready to rip Harm apart.
“Son, that’s a private matter between the legal eagles,” drawled a grizzled Sergeant “Ain’t none of our business. Now get back down range, both of you.”
The two Marines reluctantly walked back to their firing positions. The grizzled Sergeant shot a quick glance over at the two JAG officers. They sure were a fiery pair.
“Wasn’t that a bit melodramatic?” Mac hissed as they stood facing each other.
On her face was a look of pure hatred, but her voice said differently.
Harm’s voice was equally soft. “We had to make it look good, Marine. You know that.”
“Why are you here?”
“Change of plans,” he whispered casually, “CENTCOM has put me on active flying status….”
“What?!” Mac’s whisper was almost too loud.
“That flu bug that’s been hanging around here has grounded a lot of the pilots in the task force. They’ve called up all Reserve pilots, including me.”
Mac suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him toward a nearby shed. “You’re gonna be sorry you ever laid a hand on me, Commander.”
As Mac shoved Harm into the shed’s wall and out of the line of sight of those on the firing range, the murderous look in her eyes faded, replaced by a look of concern.
“Harm please listen to me; I don’t want you flying….”
The tall Naval Commander was still smarting from being flung against the shed wall, but he knew that it was necessary in order for them to have this conversation unmolested. “Are you still afraid I’ll lose myself, Mac?” He was half-way teasing her, hoping it would ease the tenseness.
It didn’t. The Marine JAG’s face became more anguished looking. “No, you know the reason.” She was talking about the nightmares that had been plaguing since this case began. “Promise me you won’t fly.”
Harm didn’t know what to say. He could see the look of fear and distress in her pretty features. “You know I can’t do that Mac,” he said helplessly.
She nodded as if accepting what he had said. But he should have known she wasn’t giving up. Her voice came out in almost a commanding tone. “Harm, listen to me; you can’t do this--!”
The aviator/lawyer screwed up his face in disbelief. “I can’t do this? …Mac, these are orders from CENTCOM. What do you want me to do? Go UA?”
Her voice became more commanding and hint of anxiety crept in. “Harm, you know what will happen; if you fly, you’ll be shot down…and killed! I can’t let that happen to you!!”
“Mac we’ve got everything under control. I’ll tell Gibbs to keep an eye on you, he is ‘your boyfriend’, you know.” That earned the Navy man a harsh glare. “Well okay, not your real boyfriend, but you know what I mean. We’ve got our killers under surveillance…it’s only a matter of time; the lion’s teeth have been pulled. There’s no more danger.” Harm wasn’t even sure he believed that, but he had to say something.
“Mac, you know I can’t live a life ruled by superstition and psychic impressions.” He was trying to shock her into accepting the truth. Wait a minute, shocking her didn’t work….
Something flared in Mac’s eyes. “And I can’t just stand by and do nothing, Harm. Psychic visions saved your life once, I--” She suddenly stopped.
Her voice turned accusatory. “You’re holding out on me, Hammer. You want this, don’t you?”
Harm felt the air leave his chest. “Mac, I--” he had no words.
Mac words turned bitterly sarcastic “I should have seen this coming! I’m a Marine Lieutenant Colonel! Why didn’t I see this coming?! Why do *you* always do this?”
She was referring to his leaving back in 1999 for the Patrick Henry and again in 2001 to do his qualifications days before her rehearsal dinner, and the many other times he had left her to go flying.
Harm grabbed her by the shoulders. “Mac…Mac…Mac! I’ll come back.”
Hot tears spilled down her flushed cheeks. She sniffled. “Don’t make--” her declaration was cut off by his index finger touching her lips.
Harm gave her that dazzling smile of his as he moved closer to her. “I haven’t yet.” The words were almost muffled by her mouth hungrily descending on his.
They stayed that way for as long as they dared. When they finished, Mac slapped him as hard as she could. The crack of her slap could be heard across the silent firing range.
“Stay away from me, Commander!” she barked. But as he recovered from her slap, he saw her mouth the words. ‘Be careful up there, Harm. I love you’.
*~*
Mac watched stoically as Harm boarded the HMMWV. He turned to look at her, she feigned indifference while giving the slightest of nods to the Commander. She had accepted what he was doing.
(Be careful up there, Hammer….) she silently said a prayer. “Good riddance,” she said loud enough for anyone around her to hear.
As the HMMWV pulled out onto the camp’s main road, Mac felt someone walk up behind her.
“You always try to sneak up on officers, Corporal Danvers?” The Marine JAG said with her back still turned to Kayce.
“No ma’am. But I can offer a shoulder if the Colonel needs one, no strings attached.” The comment wasn’t snide. It seemed sincere, but with Darcy’s folks you could never tell….
Mac turned to face the Force Recon trooper. Her voice mirrored the steel in her eyes. “What makes you think I need *a shoulder*, Corporal?” Kayce had crossed a line and Mac wanted her to know it.
“No disrespect meant ma’am. It’s just that I’ve been there and I know how that feels.”
“How what feels, Corporal?”
“To see someone…” Kayce was choosing her words carefully, “…a friend, go off on a combat mission, not knowing if he will make it back.”
“He’s not a friend.” That part was true; he was more. “Commander Rabb is an experienced fighter pilot, Corporal,” Mac said confidently. At least she thought she sounded confident. “I’m not worried that he won’t make it back. He’s too cocky to die.”
“Yes ma’am, I- I’m sorry I…” she looked Mac in the eyes with a soulful stare. “I just wanted…to help ma’am. Before someone else in the unit tried to *help* you.” She saluted smartly, “I was out of line. Sorry to have disturbed you, ma’am.”
Kayce walked past the JAG Corps Colonel headed for the camp post exchange. Mac wasn’t sure what this Kayce Danver’s game was, but she thought she’d better play along. It seemed that people in Darcy’s unit did things differently. Besides, this might be a way to find out a little bit more about how this unit worked.
“Corporal?”
Kayce stopped and turned back toward her. “Yes ma’am?”
“Your friend, how…how is he?”
“He had to ditch in the ocean last year off the Pakistani coast. The PJs found him floating in a pile of oil and debris.” Before Mac could say anything, Kayce confirmed what the Marine JAG thought she was going to say.
“He’d choked on the oil and avgas that had leaked from his plane, the sea in that area had been pretty rough that day.”
“I’m sorry, Corporal.” Mac said with genuine regret. If what she was telling her was a sympathy ply to win Mac’s trust, it was a good one.
“It’s okay ma’am, he told me this might happen someday and we both knew the risks, still I wish – I wish I had had someone to talk to about it then.”
Mac decided to add vulnerability to the list of weaknesses of ‘her’ Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie had.
“Maybe I do need that shoulder….”That earned her a look from Kayce. “To help you Danvers. You don’t seem like you’re over this yet.”
“No ma’am,” she said quietly, “I guess I’m not.”
MEU Videoconference Room
Gibbs had just finished his conference call with Ducky and the others. As he was about to step out of the room, the technician gave him a surprised look.
“Incoming call from MTAC, Special Agent Gibbs.”
The senior NCIS Agent moved back towards the screen. The camera was already focusing in on a man standing in the Multiple Threat Assessment Center videoconference room back in Anacostia.
“Good morning, sir.”
Director Morrow nodded. “Gibbs,” His hooded, dark-circled eyes indicated the man hadn’t had much sleep lately.
The head of NCIS didn’t waste any time. “I don’t have to tell you what’s being going on back here.”
Gibbs was never one to mince words. “No sir, you don’t.”
“Everybody wants a piece of these traitors and their terrorist buddies. Homeland Security, NSA, CIA, DIA, FBI, DSD…they all want in on the act. I also have the Joint Chiefs pushing a certain blue light unit on me. …can you assure me you and your team can take these tangos out before they can act?”
If anyone else had asked the NCIS Agent that question, Gibbs would have chuckled. But he wouldn’t do that to Tom Morrow. They had been through too much together. “That’s not my call, sir. This is a joint JAG-NCIS Op. The Admiral has overall command, sir.”
The NCIS Director sighed; he hated it when Gibbs rolled out the chain-of-command protocol. “Do you think Commander Rabb and his team can pull off this op with your assistance?” he asked bluntly.
Gibbs’ face broke into the wry smile of his. “I believe they are they only ones who can, sir.”
Director Morrow knew he was enjoying this. Gibbs always did love tweaking the noses of the other agencies. “If this doesn’t work, we’re going to catch hell on the Hill.”
Gibbs’ voice was now distinctly somber. “Sir, if this doesn’t work, it won’t matter. Everyone will catch hell.”
Tom Morrow knew the man was right.
“Then give them all the assistance they need, Gibbs.”
Gibbs nodded. “Understood sir.”
---TBC…
[In a few weeks, a new chapter! Mac continues her
undercover mission with Darcy's force recon unit and
Harm begins flying Tomcats again. The ultimate showdown
between the good guys and bad guys is coming...to be
continued....]
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