| Subject: ...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 25d, part one |
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TxJAG_b
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Date Posted: 16:21:15 11/17/08 Mon
In reply to:
TxJAG_b
's message, "...For Meritorious Service" on 09:04:26 05/08/07 Tue
…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 25d, part one
A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudos to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw and Mary Ann for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.
A/N4: Warning for language. These are soldiers and sailors in a combat situations. See the orginal disclaimer for details.
A/N5: Some of the slang you see being used by the aviators and Force Recon members are actual slang you might encounter if you were in their environment. Nothing is to be inferred or implied - the slang is merely included to give a local flavor to the story.
1559 Local/1259 Zulu
Camp Chesty Puller
Force Recon Assembly Area
To anyone with average intelligence, it was plain to see that Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie did not like Master Gunnery Sergeant Galindez.
But these were not men of average intelligence, they had been chosen for Force Recon because they were the best of the best. Which meant not only could they tell that the Light Colonel loathed Master Guns Galindez, but that the senior NCO seemed to take great delight in this-- which only seemed to make the platoon CO steam even more.
Mac was doing a good job at telegraphing her displeasure with Victor’s presence while Gunny Galindez seemed to be having a ball playing the burr in Mac’s saddle.
Kayce was sure there was an interesting story behind this, but she didn’t dare ask the Marine Judge Advocate what the history was.
Victor seemed to puff up with self-importance as Mac introduced him as the new senior non-com.
“Men,” Victor said to the crowd, intentionally ignoring Mac and Kayce, “Colonel Livingston has given you very a dangerous assignment. But she assured me that you can pull it off.”
“YES MASTER GUNNERY SERGEANT!” the platoon roared back.
“Outstanding! Gunny Dallas! Will you help me distribute this material to the unit, and I’ll finish the briefing after we do this….”
Gunnery Sergeant Dallas moved toward the front of the assembled group, eager to get his working relationship with the senior Sergeant off on the right foot. “Aye, aye, Master Guns.”
Within a few minutes, each person in the platoon had been given chemical detector kits, detector paper, spiral notepads and a copy of Darcy Livingston’s ‘commander’s guidance’ for this mission.
Dallas made sure that each six-man team had Chemical Agent Monitors. It looked like a bag for a camera like the news media types carried, but inside was a device that could quickly detect the presence of chemicals and what dangers they posed to the team.
As this was being done, Sergeant Williams made sure each of his pickup trucks had a portable Chemical Agent Alarm installed. The Alarms looked like small olive drab drink coolers with a large carrying handle and a black cable attached between two nodes.
As the last of these monitors and alarms were being distributed, Victor Galindez got to the heart of his briefing:
“…both terrorist leaders, Samir al-Sahood and Hammad Faoud al Harib managed to spirit their chemical ‘cocktail’ out of the Darunta training camp and, according to CIA and DIA intelligence, they are in the process of attaching their warheads to missiles on board operational FROG and SCUD missile launchers….” He paused for emphasis “Launchers that have been hidden somewhere north of Mirbullah….
That caused more than a few murmurs from the assembled group. Mac remembered what Clayton Webb had sent in that report. She could even hear Webb’s voice competing with Victor’s:
“…ACIT has confirmed what e-mail and cell phone communication verified…an Al-Qaeda cell in the Mirbullah area, under the command of Samir al-Sahood, divisional leader for the An Diwaniyah region, is receiving help from within…the 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit….
As ‘Master Guns’ Galindez continued with his briefing and moved into giving details of the platoon’s warning order, Mac could still hear Clay’s voice as clear as if she was standing right next to him.
“…It is considered highly likely that within the next 96 to 120 hours, former regime elements and members of the Mirbullah cell will attempt a disruptive attack on Coalition forces near the Multi-National Defense - Central. This attack is believed to have a 90-96% probability of using weapons of mass destruction – most likely chemical or biological in nature….”
“A 90-96% probability of using weapons of mass destruction…chemical or biological in nature….”
“Ma’am?”
Mac looked over at Kayce Danvers. A look of deep concern was etched into her face. “Is there something else about this mission that he’s not telling us?”
“No Corporal,” Mac said quickly, maybe too quickly. “I just want to get out there and stop them before they can launch those missiles.” A brief smile flitted through her features as she said this.
Kayce gave her a less than convincing acknowledgement. “I know ma’am, we all want to stop them too.”
Mac wondered if that statement truly held any validity. Already Master Guns Wilbane, most likely with the help of others, had managed to eliminate Lieutenant Ebbits, this unit’s former commander. Mac wondered how many other innocent Marines had died this way? How many more would die during this mission? Would she and Gunny be able to stop them?
She turned her attention back to Victor who seemed to wrapping up his ‘pep talk’.
“…and make sure your CAMs are in working order. Anyone who has damaged paper or detector kits let me know ASAP. We cannot afford to have anyone going into this situation sleepwalking.”
“AYE AYE MASTER GUNNERY SERGEANT!”
“After we finish here, get out your chemical uniforms. I want everyone to have their battle dress overgarment on before we leave here. No overboots or gloves until I give the word.”
“AYE MASTER GUNNERY SERGEANT!”
1315 Zulu/0815 Local
NCIS Headquarters
Washington Navy Yard
Teresa Coulter sank down in the plush overstuffed easy chair upstairs lounge area and rubbed her eyes. She and Doctor Mallard had been reexamining every bit of evidence they had obtained from Mirbullah. That included each and every body as well, save Lieutenant Dodge’s.
“Tired Commander?”
She turned around in the chair to see Ducky Mallard, standing there still dressed in his surgical scrubs. She had changed out of hers before she sat down. She tried to give him an appreciative smile for his concern.
“Beyond tired Doctor…” she quickly corrected herself with a half embarrassed smile; her response had been automatic-not taking into account the dinners they had shared. “Sorry, I meant, beyond tired, Ducky.”
The NCIS Medical Examiner emitted an equally tired chuckle as he pulled up another overstuffed chair next to hers. “That’s all right, my dear, it’s quite understandable…we have been going at it…rather fiercely.”
“What did you expect us to find, Ducky? What are we looking for?”
“Frankly Teresa, I don’t know.” She gave him a puzzled look. “Well, actually, I was hoping we would turn up some piece of evidence that would help nail those traitorous Marines.”
“You mean besides what we’ve already found?”
“Yes.” Donald Mallard got up from the chair and walked over to the window in this small waiting area. “There has to be something we’re missing. Something that will conclusively tie our killers to these murders.”
Teresa got up from her chair and walked over to him. She understood what he meant. The Medical Corps Forensic Examiner hated to leave a job, any job, in what she thought was an unfinished state. Even if it looked like all possible evidence had been found. It had been that way when they were tracking Kabir Atef and his Russian plutonium. Teresa had made double and triple sure they had not overlooked a single body or a single clue on that occasion as well.
Like Dr Mallard on this case. Something was driving him, almost to the point of obsession, to find a link between these bodies and the killers. She guessed that ‘something’ was trying to help his long time associate, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
She lightly touched his hand and gave him a tender smile. “Let’s go see if Abby found anything new….”
*~*
Major McBurney sat looking at his corkboard wall. On it was a set of 3x5 index cards – they contained all the information they had on this case up to this point - the ambush of the 36th MEU in Mirbullah, Dodge’s death, Krivstad’s, Captains Butler and Jalloud, Colwell’s and Grearson’s, the wounding of Leftenant Prine and Corpsman Hazon, the attack on JAG Headquarters, Lukens’ and Buell’s exoneration, Secord’s admittance of guilt, Rathum’s and Lieutenant Ebbits’ deaths, and the DFAC rocket attack. And that didn’t include all the little incidents that occurred in between.
In the lower left corner was one card that seemed out of place because it had nothing to do with the case, except for the name of the person on it.
Lieutenant Commander Coleman.
The JAG Liaison to NCIS kept looking at the card and occasionally, he would glance at his desk clock.
Then his eyes would drift over to his phone and then back to the card.
Should he call?
And say what? ‘Hey Commander, just thought I’d call and see how you were doing...you know, after that rocket attack and everything…’
He shook his head. Not only was it a lame excuse for a call, she would point that out to him in sarcastic detail.
Oh yeah, that would be perfect. She’d revel in telling him that she was just fine, and then just to make him squirm, she’d ask him why he’d wasted taxpayers’ money by making this nonessential inquiry?
He could almost see that thin snarky smile of hers as she waited for his bumbling answer.
He shook his head again. Well, this certainly wasn’t getting anything accomplished. Maybe he should go down and check with Abby and see what else she’d learned….
That sounded like a much better plan. As he left their cubicle, he swiped one of Faith’s neatly sharpened pencils out of the metallic cup sitting on her immaculate desk.
He started to head down the hall to the elevator when he stopped and looked back at her empty silent desk.
Quietly he walked back and dropped the pencil back in the cup.
With his luck, she’d probably notice that the pencil was out of place.
1630 Local /1330 Zulu
Camp Chesty Puller
Mirbullah, Iraq
To the uninitiated, Mac’s unit now looked more like a group of Bedouins than it did a crack Marine unit.
Mac had long since decided Sergeant Williams and Corporal Burges were probably the most trustworthy drivers in this unit. She wouldn’t exchange them for someone else on this operation – how did that saying go? ‘Better the devil you know, than the devil you don’t know…’. Williams and Burges had personally vouched for the third driver, Corporal Eddie Willet. That was good enough for Mac.
She was glad that Darcy hadn’t ordered her to change drivers. That could have been awkward. She didn’t need any other ‘unknown quantities’ to deal with. As far as she knew, there were only two people she could really trust at this point. Casmir Szymas and Victor Galindez.
At the moment, she had other things to worry about. Mac was working on getting her Bedouin outfit to cover her tan Nomex flight suit uniform with its ballistic inserts and kneepads, and thigh tactical holster in such a way that it wouldn’t look too odd. Her headdress partially concealed her headset.
She was glad there wasn’t a full-length mirror handy – her outfit was definitely not flattering.
The only thing that made her feel marginally better was that Corporal Danvers looked slightly worse. The rest of her unit didn’t look any better. Hopefully they would be able to do away with this charade soon. Very soon.
She looked down at the chemical detector kit in her hands. That brought her back to the danger they were facing. Somewhere out there, a terrorist unit had chemical munitions and was readying them for use. All she had to do was keep the traitors from killing her and Gunny before they could stop the terrorists….
Not too tall of an order.
“You ready ma’am?” Mac looked up and saw it was her aide. Kayce smiled. “Begging your pardon ma’am, but you look the way I feel.”
Mac cocked an eyebrow at her unit’s heavy recon sniper. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Corporal,” she quipped dryly as clipped her detector securely to her gown.
Kayce Danvers realized she was again skating dangerously close to insubordination, but she couldn’t help it. “Sorry ma’am, I didn’t mean any disrespect, but do you really think these will fool anyone?”
“At a distance, yes….” she said in her best confident officer voice as she ignored the baggy image in the mirror.
Kayce didn’t sound convinced. “If you say so, ma’am.”
Mac turned back to the young woman. “Danvers, we’re part of a pilot program. If this doesn’t work, the likelihood of women being allowed on combat operations will disappear. We have to make this succeed.” As she said this she could hear Colonel Presser telling her that someday women would have to fight.
Though the young Lance Corporal had been briefed on this, apparently it had not sunk in just how important a part they were playing. “So if the operation fails, it’s our fault?”
Mac understood her concern, but she had to temper the young woman’s bruised feelings with a dose of cold harsh reality. “If the operation fails, yes, they will blame us. We’ll be the convenient scapegoats.”
“That makes me feel so much better, ma’am.” Kayce clearly wanted her CO to know just how she felt about that.
It was borderline unruly, but Mac understood you had to let the enlisted speak their mind [within reason] or suggestions for valuable improvements might get trampled.
She gave the Corporal a winsome smile. “I knew it would, Corporal, now let’s get out there to our transport, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover this evening.”
Having said her piece, Kayce was ready to do her best to make sure they didn’t fail. Or at least she sounded that way. “Aye, aye, ma’am.”
As they stepped out of the building where they had dressed, Mac and Kayce almost ran headlong into Darcy Livingston. The Force Recon leader gave them a bemused look.
“Well Colonel, you and the Corporal would have *fooled* me.”
Mac gave the Force Recon CO a wan smile. “Would you rather that we just wear our Bedouin outfits, ma’am?”
Darcy gave the Marine Judge Advocate a cold smile. “I could say yes, but that would be both impractical and dangerous. No, you need these outfits to blend in as you pass into their territory. And, you’ll need everything stowed in your uniforms once you find al-Sahood’s hideout.”
“Just wanted to be sure we were doing as you wish,” Mac made sure her comment was a little pointed. It had the desired effect. Darcy didn’t like people who challenged her or her decisions.
“This is a very important mission, MacKenzie, and I want to know that you won’t screw it up.”
Mac looked Darcy straight her eyes. The unsaid part referred to the Colonel’s drinking habits. Kayce unconsciously sucked in a breath when she saw the look in Mac’s eyes.
Mac moved closer the Force Recon CO. Her voice was calm, but her tone was laced with anger. “If you don’t think I can do this job…you’re welcome to relieve me…ma’am.”
Darcy and Mac stood face to face, neither one flinching. For the longest of moments, Kayce thought Colonel Livingston might actually relieve her CO.
Instead, Darcy smirked and shook her head. Mac had called her bluff. “Ah, Cher, I should have warned you. Our unit is bit different from other military units. All of my Marines are well trained and seasoned veterans.”
Before Mac could ask what she meant, Darcy continued. “Keep in mind that they won’t just salute any brass that blows through my unit…that is, unless I tell them to. When you become part of my unit, you not only have to earn my respect, but the respect of everyone in the unit. From the privates all the way up to me.”
Mac didn’t say anything. She was sure there was a point to this cryptic message. One she was sure she would find out about soon enough.
Darcy nodded again. “Looks like you’re ready, Colonel. Let’s go see if your platoon is *as ready* as *you* are.”
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