| Subject: Sleight of Hand, Part 6 |
Author:
Incatnito
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Date Posted: 20:39:14 07/30/02 Tue
In reply to:
Incatnito
's message, "Sleight of Hand, Part 1" on 23:35:30 07/28/02 Sun
George Washington Medical Center
Mac's Room
1410 Local
Harriet looked up from the magazine she'd been browsing through when the door started to open. She was expecting Bud at any time. After the two had arrived at GW and talked to Sturgis, they decided that Bud would go relieve the babysitter and come back with little AJ and Sturgis would head over to JAG. Gunny Walters had been replaced by Corporal Hanley, a tall, thin young man who hadn't been that interested in conversation. The Colonel continued to sleep, Harriet thought that was a good sign. Both she and Bud had been shocked by Mac's appearance, even though the doctor had described her condition to them earlier. Harriet and Bud were kind-hearted people, it was difficult to accept having a friend hurt.
It wasn't Bud; instead, a man Harriet didn't recognize walked in. He was small and slightly built, with a mustache and receding hairline. He was wearing what Harriet had privately dubbed as the 'Bureaucratic BDUs': three-piece suit, button-down shirt, power tie and trenchcoat. He looked at Mac, then swept a cool, appraising eye over the other two occupants. Dismissing them as unimportant, he focused again on the Colonel, "You two will have to leave, I need to ask Colonel MacKenzie some questions."
"No." Harriet's calm refusal masked a rising anger. She glanced over at the Corporal who was tensely eyeing the newcomer.
The man regarded her with annoyance. He reached inside his coat (a move that brought Corporal Hanley to his feet), froze for a moment and slowly brought out a leather case. Flipping it open, he held it up and said, "I'm Inspector Peterson with NIS. I'm conducting an investigation and I need to ask Col. MacKenzie some questions. You will wait outside."
Harriet put down the magazine and stood up, crossing her arms, "No."
Clearly irritated, Peterson said, "I don't know who you think you are but you will either leave of your own free will or I will have security remove you."
"I'm Lt. Sims of the Judge Advocate General and this is Corporal Hanley, Marine security detachment. OUR orders are not to leave Col. MacKenzie unattended and to prevent anyone from disturbing her until her doctor says its okay." Harriet had thrown in that last part, she'd be damned if she let this pompous little man pester the Colonel while she was recovering. Glaring at Peterson, Harriet noted Hanley's approving look in her peripheral vision, apparently he didn't like the little weasel either.
They stood staring at each other for a long moment when the impasse was broken by the sound of Mac's somewhat groggy voice, "Harriet? What's going on?"
Peterson immediately approached the bed. "I'm Inspector Peterson. I have some questions I need you to answer." Without waiting for a response, he plunged ahead, "Did you recognize either of the men who broke into the JAG HQ?"
Mac squinted at him fuzzily, "No."
"You'd never seen these men before?"
"No."
"Do you know what they were looking for?"
"No."
"You do know Daniel Lattimer, don't you?"
"He's a client." Mac said, it was hard to concentrate, she felt like she'd been pounded flat. Who was this guy?
"I understand you speak Russian and Arabic."
"Farsi." Mac corrected him automatically. She was confused over the sudden change of subject. Looking over at Harriet, she saw her say something to a tall, lanky man. He turned and quietly left the room.
"Colonel!" Startled, Mac jerked her head back towards the irritating little man and winced. Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth and waited for the pain to subside. Who the hell was this guy?
"Colonel!" Peterson waited impatiently until Mac managed to focus on him again. "You've made a number of trips to Russia and Iran, correct?" She just looked at him. He continued relentlessly, "You're good friends with a high-ranking KGB officer, a Major Sokol? You've dated him?"
"What?"
"You're Arabic, aren't you? Your grandmother was Iranian? And you're the niece of Matthew O'Hara, correct? The man who stole the Declaration of Independence for ransom?"
"What?" Mac was bewildered by the abrupt changes in topics. Mark, Grandma, Uncle Matt? What was he talking about? If only her head would stop pounding...
"Petty Officer Lattimer passed information on to you, didn't he?"
"Well... yes, I'm his lawyer."
"Not anymore." Peterson folded his arms across his chest and smiled nastily, "Apparently, he didn't think much of his chances. He committed suicide this morning in his cell at Quantico."
"WHAT?" Mac shot upright, then clamped her jaws shut on the cry of pain that tried to escape. Her vision dimmed and she held herself rigid. The almost unbearably sharp pains were making it impossible to breathe or move. A panic-stricken little voice in her head was screaming, ohmygodohmygodohmygod... Vaguely, she could hear other voices - angry voices; but she was trapped in a gray world of pain and nothing else seemed to matter.
George Washington Medical Center
1400 Local
Harm walked into the lobby and headed for the bank of elevators around the corner. There he spotted two familiar figures, "Bud!"
Bud turned at the sound of Harm's voice and smiled, "Commander, are you just getting here too?" Little AJ had begun bouncing up and down in his father's arms and calling, "Unca Harm! Unca Harm!"
"Hey shortstuff." Bud handed AJ over and Harm swung him up in the air, the little boy laughed delightedly. The elevator doors opened and they got on, AJ settled on Harm's hip. He looked up hopefully and said, "Airplane?"
"Not right now, AJ. Unsafe flying conditions - not enough airspace." Harm looked up and matched Bud's fond smile while AJ pondered the situation. "Later," the little boy stated firmly and then squirmed around to be handed back to his father. Getting off at the sixth floor, they were almost to the station desk when they saw Dr. Mikos hurrying past them from another hallway. He was closely followed by a tall young man.
Alarmed, Harm and Bud hastened to catch up. "Doctor! Is something wrong with Mac?", Harm asked .
"That's what I'm going to find out," Dr. Mikos replied, not slackening his pace. "This young man came and got me, said I was needed."
"Corporal Hanley, sir," he said to Harm's questioning look. "Lt. Sims sent me to bring the doctor, there's a NIS inspector in there giving the Colonel a hard time. He tried to make us leave but the Lieutenant refused to budge. He's acting like Colonel MacKenzie is some sort of criminal and she was really getting upset."
That was all Harm needed to hear. Putting his long legs to good use, he and Corporal Hanley reached Mac's room ahead of the others. Hearing her distressed cry, Harm pushed into the room: he saw a small man roughly shoving Harriet away, but most of his attention was focused on Mac. She was sitting rigidly upright and white-faced. Pain was etched across her features and her breathing was coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Harm closed the distance to the NIS inspector even as his mind registered the scene. Wrapping two large hands in the man's lapels, Harm literally lifted Peterson off his feet and slammed him into the wall. The little man tried to regain his balance, all the while spluttering with rage. Harm picked him up and bounced him off the wall again and then jerked him back until they were eye to eye. Glaring at Peterson, his barely-controlled anger evident in his voice, Harm ground out each word, "I don't care who you are or who you work for; if I ever see you near Sarah MacKenzie again, I won't throw you against a wall, I'll throw you out a window." Harm emphasized each point with a hard shake while marching the inspector across the room. When he reached the doorway (Hanley had seen him coming and helpfully opened the door), Harm had one final say, "If she's hurt in any way because of you, you won't be able to find a rock big enough to hide under." Then he threw Peterson out of the room. Turning to the Corporal, Harm said, "Follow him, make sure he leaves the building." Hanley snapped to attention and hurried out.
Harm turned back into the room, Harriet was now holding a wide-eyed AJ, Bud had a comforting arm around both. They were watching Dr. Mikos and Mac with worry. The doctor had cranked her bed upright and had managed to ease Mac back against the pillows. She still hadn't acknowledged anyone in the room. Dr. Mikos was on the phone, barking orders. Harm took the opportunity to move to the opposite side of Mac's bed. He reached over and covered her hand with his own only to have her grab it and hang on with a surprising amount of strength. He glanced up and saw Dr. Mikos watching him, one eyebrow raised. Both men turned when the door opened and a floor nurse walked in pushing a cart. Immediately, Dr. Mikos got to work. After administering pain medication and a muscle relaxant, he set up an oxygen tube and then fired questions at Harriet while waiting for the shots to take effect. Five minutes later, Mac gave a small sigh and went limp. Harm looked up in alarm and saw the doctor's reassuring smile. Dr. Mikos looked around the room, "If you will excuse me, I'd like to examine my patient."
Reluctantly they filed into the hallway, Harm looked over at Harriet, "Are you all right? What the hell happened?" He listened with growing concern to Harriet's recounting of the entire episode. "What exactly did Peterson accuse her of?"
"He didn't come right out and say anything but you could see where he was headed." Harriet said. "Then he told her one of her clients committed suicide, he almost sounded like he was gloating. That's when the Colonel reacted, I've never seen her like that." She was about to say more when Corporal Hanley walked up.
"Well, Corporal?" Harm asked.
"He's gone, sir." Hanley replied. "He was still cussing when he left the building. I stopped by hospital security and told them not to allow him anywhere near Colonel MacKenzie."
Everyone stopped talking when Dr. Mikos stepped out of the room. "How is she?" Harm asked, trying to control his anxiety.
"Ms. MacKenzie is asleep right now. I went ahead and sedated her. Because of the difficulty she was having breathing, I was concerned that she had somehow managed to puncture a lung. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. She did manage to tear some of the stitches in her side and combined with the effect of sudden movement on cracked ribs, made breathing extremely painful. I'm a little surprised that coming upright that quickly with a concussion didn't cause her to black out. Between the pain medication and the sedative, she'll probably to out of it for the next three to four hours. Her recovery will be a lot smoother if we can avoid these types of incidents." Dr. Mikos concluded wryly, looking at the small group. When the floor nurse came out of the room, he nodded to everyone and walked back up the hallway.
Harm looked at the Roberts family, "Why don't you head on home? I'll stay with Mac until they kick me out. The Admiral said she's being moved to Bethesda tomorrow morning at 0900. I'm sure she'll be awake and feeling better by then and you can visit."
Harriet shared a look with Bud. She felt a little guilty about leaving but the episode with Peterson had left her more rattled than she liked to admit. Harriet had been almost as agitated as Mac at the direction the questions were taking. At the Colonel's pain-filled cry, she had reacted without thinking, forcing herself between the NIS inspector and the bed. She could feel the bruises developing where Peterson had shoved her. A long soak in a warm tub was sounding very appealing. She saw Bud give a slight nod and turned back to the Commander, "Okay sir, I guess we'll see you in the morning at Bethesda."
"All right, I'll see you then." Harm smiled fondly at his friends, and then giving into the impulse, enveloped Harriet in a quick hug. "Thank you," he said softly. Looking over at Bud, he grinned and said, "I hope you realize how lucky you are, Lieutenant."
"Every day, sir," Bud said, taking the hand of a blushing Harriet. "We'll see you tomorrow." Adjusting his hold of AJ, he and Harriet headed home.
Harm looked over at Hanley, together they went back into Mac's room and settled down.
DC Brig
1515 Local
AJ walked up to the front desk and waited for the sergeant on duty to acknowledge his presence. After few minutes of paper rustling, the sergeant looked up and said politely, "May I help you?" AJ handed him his JAG ID and had the satisfaction of seeing the young man's eyes widen in alarm as he shot to his feet. "Excuse me sir, how can I help you?"
"I'd like to see one of your prisoners, he would have been brought in last night." Admiral Chegwidden stated.
"Yes sir. May I have his name, sir?" the sergeant said, busily sifting through a stack of papers.
"I'm afraid I don't know, Sergeant. He had no ID and refused to speak to anyone. He would have been charged with criminal trespass, kidnap, assault and murder."
"Yes sir." He skimmed down a page of entries and then looked up in surprise. "Sir, according to this, he was released into the custody of JAG at 0930 today."
"What?!" AJ exclaimed. "That's impossible!"
"I'm sorry sir, but that what the log says. Released to two officers assigned to the Naval JAG at 0930. They showed the proper ID."
A captain, hearing the commotion, walked over to the front desk. "Is there a problem, Sergeant?"
"Damn straight there is, Captain." AJ said heatedly. "Apparently, one of your prisoners has managed to escape."
The captain looked at AJ coolly, "And you would be... "
"Admiral AJ Chegwidden."
The captain stiffened, "I beg your pardon, sir."
AJ nodded and turned back to the sergeant. "Who were these officers?"
The sergeant looked at the log, "Lt. Ramsay and Lt. Commander Quinn, sir."
"There are no JAG officers by those names," AJ stated flatly.
"Are you sure, sir?" the captain asked. "JAG's a big place..."
AJ looked at him, "Captain, I am the JAG. I know who my officers are. I also know you let a dangerous criminal walk out of here with two impostors. There will be an investigation." With that, AJ pivoted and stalked out. Dammit, someone was two steps ahead of them on this and he still wasn't sure what 'this' was.
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