| Subject: 'Dissonance' - Part Three |
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Daenar
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Date Posted: 14:54:43 07/24/02 Wed
In reply to:
Daenar
's message, "'Dissonance' - Part Two" on 14:50:42 07/24/02 Wed
‘Dissonance’ – Chapter Three
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Chapter One
Wed, May 13th
1627 ZULU
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA
Clayton Webb was angrily pacing back and forth, waiting for the elevator that would take him up to where he was about to once again meet his doom. How on earth did Rabb do this? Try as he, Clay, might to hide something from him, he could be sure that the smart ex-aviator would find out anyway. And if Harm for once didn’t catch the detective fever, he would surely just stumble about something that would make him curious enough to go on sneaking. That guy had a goddamn subscription to investigators’ luck!
In fact, when he’d had to let slip to AJ that Harm would have to fill in for someone who had committed suicide, he had been suspiciously waiting for any subsequent calls from the commander ever since. When the concert had been over for two days and he still hadn’t heard anything from JAG, Webb had for once in his life dared to hope that playing in public might have wearied Harm out enough not to get interested in the facts that lay behind the scene. But what had been bound to happen? If the prophet didn’t go to the mountain, the mountain came to find the prophet. And it was Rabb again, of all people, who had tasted blood now and wanted to clear the matter. It just wasn’t fair. The elevator finally arrived and Clayton Webb went up to face his destiny.
Upon entering the admiral’s office, Webb saw that Harm and Mac were already present, all three officers turning to him with rather hostile stares on their faces. And much to his further dismay and to his surprise Webb noted that a fourth armchair was occupied: he felt himself scrutinized by the Secnav in person. What did he have to come for? He had already robbed him of precious time on the phone in the morning. Suppressing a groan, Webb greeted the assembly.
“Sit down, please, Mr. Webb,” AJ said, dangerously calm and emphatically polite.
Webb did as he was told, remembering how a broken jaw felt.
“Secretary Nelson tells me that you already had your suspicions about Cadet Waters’s death?” AJ ventured without introduction, his eyes never leaving Clay’s.
Webb cleared his throat. “Yes, we had. We were trying to establish a long-term operation inside and around the college when the death occurred.”
“Would you care to enlighten us what this operation would have been about?” AJ was getting close to losing his temper at the prospect of yet another conversation with Webb in the course of which he would have to dig for any crumb of information.
“I’m sorry, Admiral, I can’t. Classified.”
“Damn it, Webb!” AJ shouted, jumping to his feet and leaning over his desk, “I have my top team stuck in the affair up to their chins. I want to know what they have to deal with!”
Webb, too, rose from his chair, glaring back at the admiral. Well, for once he would have a reason to defend himself. “You’re completely misunderstanding the situation...”
A disdainful snort from Mac’s direction interrupted him. He frowned.
“...misunderstanding the situation,” he took up his speech. “By asking Harm to fill in for Cadet Waters I had no intention whatsoever to lure him into a case.” On seeing everybody’s mistrust, he sighed, exasperated. “Harm,” he turned to his might-be friend, “I already told you on the phone that I wanted to keep you out of this, not get you into it.” Harm only glared at him and said nothing. Webb turned back to face AJ. “I declare that the Agency has no interest whatsoever in having JAG lawyers involved in the case.”
AJ lost it. “Now it is you who are totally misunderstanding the case,” he thundered, his eyes sending daggers at Webb. “That is exactly what’s wrong about this thing, Webb! The fact that you didn’t inform any of us, let alone the Secnav, that we must have a reason to assume that a member of the navy, though not yet a real one, is right now in imminent danger to be murdered just like her colleague! Just because your Agency didn’t want us involved and leave the place JAG-free for their covered investigation! Tell me, what issues are more important than two lives? And spare me your ‘classified’-crap. You owe me and Cmdr. Rabb!”
Webb knew that resistance would be futile. Sighing deeply, he explained: “We’ve been watching things at Dwayne Myers for about seven months now. We’ve got reason to believe that an organization of drug dealers may have found a way to use the college as a safe entry for their merchandise onto the U.S. market. Before you ask for details: No, we don’t know any particulars yet. Yes, we suspect we can label them Columbian but we don’t know for sure. Yes, it’s been damn difficult to get any information whatsoever from inside the college, and yes, we thought, not giving away our knowledge might be more important than a possible danger for the people around. Look, if the drugs reach the consumers there will be many more people in danger of dying, right?” Webb glanced around, once again meeting nothing but hostile stares.
Mac rose from her chair, her face ashen and her hands clenched to fists. Subconsciously Webb scanned the room for cover. “We’re talking about innocent young girls here, Webb.” He felt ripped up by her glare and her voice let show that she barely managed to contain her fury.
“We were taking care of the situation, Colonel,” he tried to assure her. “We were just about to...”
“The hell you were!” she shouted, stepping up to him until they were nose to nose. AJ just leaned back in his chair and, like Harm and Nelson, enjoyed the scene. “Obviously your surveyors aren’t fit for their job or they would have known Cadet Stiller came here! But you didn’t. We made you a nice little surprise today, didn’t we, Clay?” Mac was bending forward, causing Webb to bow backwards, lose his balance and topple on the floor.
By now AJ thought it wise to intervene. “Damn right you did, Colonel,” he smiled devilishly. Mac seemed to awake from her trance. She gave her C.O. a confused glance, then realized that the situation was about to blow, straightened herself and, with one last killing stare at Webb, went back to her armchair. “Thank you, sir. Our pleasure.”
Sensing the imminent danger was over for the moment, Webb slowly rose from the floor and got back to his seat. Chegwidden cleared his throat. “Now that we exchanged our little pleasantries, let’s get to business. Secretary, would you please brief us, sir?”
The Secnav nodded and opened a thin file, obviously assembled in haste since the ‘situation’ had occurred. “Mr. Webb was kind enough to call me after having heard from you, Commander. It seems that in a crisis even the Agency remembers something like good manners,” he stated with an unusual amount of dry humor. Mac gave Harm a quick eyebrows-up. Nelson went on. “Mr. Webb and I agreed that we have several things to be taken care of immediately. First, there’s Cadet Stiller’s personal safety. Second, there’s the investigation of Cadet Waters’s murder. And third in row stands the ongoing investigation of the drug syndicate. Mr. Webb offered me a way to proceed that, well, at first struck me as rather... unusual.”
‘Nice little euphemism here,’ Harm thought as he, Mac and AJ simultaneously groaned, mentally asking themselves just when Webb had ever been usual in his proceedings. The Secnav looked up, disoriented by the stereo-groan, while Webb was intensely studying his fingernails.
Nelson decided to pass over the strange reaction to his words and went on: “Uhm... right. Rather unusual. But considering the options and the CIA’s urging to keep things quiet, I have to admit it’s the safest option to take up his plan. I’ve assured Mr. Webb of our unrestricted assistance.” Another stereo-groan, though half-hidden. Nelson, frowning, looked at Clay. “Mr. Webb, please explain the operation.”
“Well,” Webb began, handing out copies of Nelson’s file to everyone present, “As Secretary Nelson already pointed out, the most important thing to consider would be the cadet’s safety.”
“Hear that one, Mac?” Harm murmured to his partner, casting her a mockingly astonished glance. AJ knew he would have had to reprimand the commander for his lack of manners but somehow he just didn’t feel inclined to. The Secnav fortunately didn’t seem to have heard. Webb frowned, bit back a comment and went on. “So we decided we needed someone in the college to protect her 24/7. Unnoticed.”
AJ raised his eyebrows. “I’d like to know what twenty-year old boy or girl might be qualified for that job? You can’t be thinking of a teacher, because you’d hardly get the girl to stick to one without her knowing that she had to for her best.”
“I considered this problem, Admiral,” Webb retorted, “And I think I came up with a suitable solution. We need someone who could be made to look young enough, still providing fully trained skills as a protector as well as an investigator, for surely the traces of the murder now lead to Cadet Stiller. As a matter of fact, I was thinking about the one person who would be perfect for the job: Col. Mackenzie.”
“No way!” AJ, Mac and Harm shouted in unison, all three of them jumping to their feet. Webb’s reflexes clicked in and made him raise his arms over his head in protection.
Nelson just stared at the officers’ reaction and then stood up, too. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he cut in firmly, “Let’s hear the plan first. Besides, I already decided that this is how we proceed.”
“Without even asking me, sir!” AJ shouted, ready to defend his lawyers against one of Webb’s odysseys at any costs and mad to no limit that in the end he would have to submit to the Secnav’s orders nevertheless.
“Yes, Admiral, without asking you. That’s my prerogative,” Nelson went on, unperturbed. “Believe me, it’s done for the best. Now let Mr. Webb finish his explanation.”
Clenching their teeth, the three lawyers sat down again, Harm feeling the strong urge to take Mac’s hand but refraining from the gesture knowing she’d understand. Webb came out of his defensive position and matter-of-factly began to point out the details. “Mac, as I said, you will go undercover as a second-year student, becoming Cadet Stiller’s new roommate. As she didn’t see you when she came here there won’t be any problems.”
“Only that I might look slightly older than twenty, even with my anti-aging cosmetics,” she couldn’t hold herself back from cutting in.
“Colonel...” AJ gently tried to smooth the waters.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I’m sure you’ll work out a way to surprise us all, Colonel,” Webb said smugly, causing Harm to feel a slight fit of nausea. “Anyway,” Webb went on, “Cadet Stiller doesn’t seem to have many close friends besides Cadet Waters, so Mac would just, well, fit in as new-found soul-mate, right? They’d attend classes together, spend their spare time, do sports, whatever.”
“What if she doesn’t like me, Clay?” Mac asked dryly, pouting, her arms crossed in front of her chest.
Webb smiled sweetly. “I’m sure she will, Mac. There’s another problem, though, that we have to solve before you can go, that means in the next two days.”
“What problem, Webb?” Harm asked slowly, on his guard.
“Well, Cadet Stiller spends much of her time practicing on her flute, being a member of the marching band. As was Cadet Waters. It’s probable Waters’s murderer has connections to those circles. You’ll have to join the band, Colonel.”
“How? Clapping my hands or singing laalaa?” Mac couldn’t believe it. “Clay, this is crazy! I can’t even read music! What am I supposed to do in a marching band?”
“As I said, you have two days to let Harm teach you the theory. And I picked the perfect instrument for you. You’re tall and strong and we saw you dance, so we know you have a feeling for rhythm. You’ll play the bass drum.”
Images instantly formed in Harm’s mind. Images of Mac, in a naval-college cadet’s uniform, carrying a huge drum in front of her, barely able to look over it, with cottoned drumsticks in both her hands, swinging her arms to hit the instrument’s sides that had diameters of at least three feet. The thought was so odd that Harm wasn’t able to retain a loud snort, followed by barely suppressed chuckling. Obviously AJ’s musings had gone in a similar direction as his mouth was twitching violently. Only Mac was nothing but cold fury, increased, in fact, by her colleagues’ amusement.
“Forget it, Clay!!!”
“There’s no choice, Mac.”
“Try and make me!!!”
“You will go, Colonel, that’s a direct order!” Nelson shouted, making them all jump for they’d hardly ever heard him raise his voice before.
“Aye, sir.” Mac was defeated. At least Harm and AJ had by now regained control over their features.
“Where does that leave me, Clay?” Harm asked, knowing he’d never let Mac walk into the lion’s den by herself. To his surprise Webb seemed to have thought that far.
“Patience, Harm. We’ll get to your part soon. We need you for the outside investigation, to find out about the connections the syndicate has in society, in the city and beyond. Mac will cover the inside part. Let me, for a moment, finish explaining Mac’s cover. As she may at times seem a little older than twenty, we worked out a story for her. Her name will be Patricia O’Hara.”
Harm and Mac exchanged a quick glance. ‘Harm’s mom and my uncle, I can live with that,’ Mac thought. Webb continued. “Patricia’s grandfather was a navy captain and a world-war hero and she always wanted to be like him.”
‘Why navy? I’d rather it were the marine corps. I can’t live with that too well, but I will have to.’ She frowned, seeing Harm smirk at the thought of Mac ‘wanting’ to join the navy.
“She wanted to attend a naval college after high school but a serious long-term illness prevented her from it.”
“What illness, Clay?” Mac asked cautiously, hoping he wouldn’t become too realistic and refer to her alcoholism.
“Leukemia,” Webb stated evenly, causing Mac’s color to slightly drain from her face.
“Why?” she choked out.
“It’s easy,” Webb went on matter-of-factly, as if he’d just said ‘measles’ or ‘hay-fever’. “It’s severe enough to take you out for four years, as in your case, and the chemotherapy is hard on the body, making people look slightly older at times. So you’re twenty-four plus the illness bonus. And who survives comes out iron-willed. See? Perfect cover.”
Mac was feeling sick but she willed herself to gulp it down. “How do I get admitted to college being ill and old?” she only asked.
Webb remained as self-confident as ever. “Dwayne Myers is a rather exclusive place. Your grandfather still has many friends in the military and your family, Californians, by the way, are up high in IT business. So money’s no problem. As to your strange choice of instrument – your mother always wanted you to play but you never would, preferring sports. So when they let you follow your dreams and go to a naval college instead of studying e-commerce to join their firm, you at least had to do your mother a favor and join the marching band.”
“I see,” Mac said, still frowning. “And why do I go to Dwayne Myers mid-term second year?”
“You started at...” Webb glanced at the file, “San Diego but your mother felt society would be better at Long Island. So as soon as the Myers had a free place in second year... you were top of the waiting list.”
“That’s disgusting!” Mac blurted out. “I’ll have to be glad that the girl was murdered because that was why they took me?”
“Kind of. Yeah.” Webb looked at her with a bit of a bad conscience. “Look, Mac, that’s the way things are. We had to come up with something. I’m sorry it’s got to be some weird story like this but it adds up and, remember, it’s for the best. I really want you around that girl because I’m sure she can’t get a better protector. Physically and emotionally,” he added quietly.
Something in his voice made Harm and Mac remember Webb was a caring person after all, even if he did everything in his power to be disagreeable. Still not able to smile, Mac’s anger vanished, though. “I understand,” she said simply, Harm nodding his agreement, waiting for his own share.
“As to you, Harm,” Webb began to point out, “You’ll go as yourself. Plain and simple. As a person. But not as Harmon Rabb, the investigator. I contacted Captain George Wells, the headmaster of Dwayne Myers and he offered a perfect solution. He ordered Lt. Cmdr. Peter Laird, the music teacher and leader of the marching band, by the way, to get ill for a couple of weeks. Laird seems to be a decent person, Wells certainly is and he trusts Laird to full extent. Thanks to the concert you’re known as a gifted musician, Harm. That will provide you with two advantages: people will be extremely pleased to hear the navy was able to immediately find a more than adequate replacement for the well-liked teacher, and – and that’s even more important for the investigation – your fame and rank and normal position as a JAG lawyer will grant you immediate access to all circles of society. And, as we all know,” Webb said, smirking, “You have a great way with children, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. Great. Only that they are not children, Clay. They’re young adults. And I was never good at teaching. But I assume it’s the only way you’ll let me get near Mac, so I accept. Just one question,” Harm’s glare was just as hostile as Mac’s had been. “How on earth do I learn to be a conductor in two days?”
Now it was Mac’s turn to chuckle, seeing Harm standing in front of a big band, desperately trying to make the young people follow his baton. She was sure he would look like carrier personnel, trying to get a tomcat to maneuver safely on deck. Harm cast her a frown, knowing, though, he had to be careful, considering his reaction to her fate.
Webb, as always, had a solution to that one as well. He handed Harm a calling card that read ‘Special Agent Raymond Burns, Federal Bureau of Investigation’. “I’m sure after your great success on stage together he’ll be ready to teach you and Mac to be unobtrusive in your roles.”
AJ had sat behind his desk, quietly observing and taking in the scheme. Hell, this sure was yet another of Webb’s crazy missions but he understood that, given the situation as it was, it might actually be the only one to work out. He hated sending his ‘kids’ to investigate this case, but on the other hand he knew, as did Webb and Nelson, that they were the only ones fit for the task.
“You’re on immediate leave, Colonel, Commander,” he said as everyone was rising, Harm and Mac coming to attention in front of him. “Meet me at my place on Friday for dinner, you, too, Webb, so you can provide them with all they need. Especially the colonel. I’ll invite over Lieutenants Sims and Prumetti, including his fiancée as well as your brother, Commander, so we can take a look at your cover and get you ready to fit in properly. Commander Turner will be on personal leave so he won’t be able to join us. 1900 sharp. Dismissed.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” Harm and Mac shouted a little louder than necessary, eager to get away.
Outside the office Mac grabbed Harm’s hand and dragged him straight into her office with a fierce look on her face. ‘Uh oh, poor Cmdr. Rabb,’ Tiner just thought as they whooshed past his desk.
Mac slammed the door shut and closed the blinds. Harm, completely at a loss about what he’d done this time, prepared for the impact of her fury. Instead he was completely caught off-guard as, all of a sudden, he found himself wrapped up in her arms.
“Help me, Harm,” Mac pleaded against his chest, her tension slowly lessening as he put his arms around her in return and held her tight. “You know, I’m a Marine and I feel I can handle hostage situations as well as combat missions or intelligence ops, but I sure as hell don’t know how to be a young girl with a happy childhood, may she or not have been seriously ill! And I’m scared of the music part. I’m sure this time I’ll blow my cover and get you in danger and the girl as well!”
“No, you won’t, ninja-girl,” he said softly, stroking the back of her head. “And I’ll tell you why. You’re headstrong and smart, you’ll learn the music part in no time. The illness won’t be a problem, either, because what you’ve been through with your alcoholism has made you come to know how bad things can get physically. And how much strength you need to recover and how long that can take.”
“But the family thing, Harm...” she softly sobbed, her voice muffled by his uniform shirt.
“Mac, look at me. Sarah...” he gently tilted her chin upwards to make their eyes meet, his once again conveying all he still found so hard to put into words. “Just imagine all that may one day be ours to have. Imagine how it will be, you and me and our children, a big, friendly house with a dog like Jingo, us two on the front-porch swing, reminiscing the old days, with our kids listening to our wild stories and not believing one word of what we’re telling them, you and me at our eldest son’s graduation day, even me dancing with my daughter on her wedding-day when she’ll remind me exactly of what you looked like when we got married... want me to go on?”
A watery but incredibly beautiful smile had spread over her face while she had been listening to him. “Is this how you want us to be or were you just trying to make me get the concept?” she asked in a whisper, holding her breath.
His voice was very low and warm when he replied, nothing but absolute honesty shining in every word. “This is what I want more than anything in the world, Sarah. And if you’ll give me a little more time I’ll be ready to ask you properly. Do you think you can do that?”
“As long as it takes, Harm. I’ll wait,” she whispered, overwhelmed by what he had been implying. They held on to each other for some long minutes, never wanting the moment to end.
Sat, May 16th
0224 ZULU
Admiral Chegwidden’s residence
McLean, VA
“Everybody ready?” Mac shouted from behind the living-room door. As she heard seven voices shout “Yes!” in unison, she said, doubts shining in her voice: “Well, then meet Cadet Patricia O’Hara, known by her friends as Pat.” With that she entered the room, meeting stunned silence.
She was wearing a neat cadet’s uniform, blue skirt, blue jacket with huge gold buttons closed up to her throat, blue beret, black college slippers with flat heels. Her hair, being slightly longer than it had been by the time of their Venice assignment, was strictly combed back from her face, held in place by a single unobtrusive gold pin could only be seen when she took off her beret. She had put on only as much make-up as was needed to cover her still greenish-yellow jaw. Apart from that she was nature’s child herself. “So, what do you say?” Mac asked, smiling embarrassedly.
Sergei was the first to speak. “Brother, I think I just found myself a girlfriend. Age fits perfectly,” he grinned.
“Ma’am... uhm... Mac, you’re perfect!” Harriet was enthusiastic. “You don’t need any more help from any of us. You’ll fit in without the slightest problem.”
Harm rose and pompously paced up in front of her. “Cadet Patricia O’Hara, did you give me yesterday’s assignment regarding Bach’s thorough-bass techniques? I didn’t find it on my desk yet. If I won’t still by 1400, I’ll sign you an E. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir!” Mac shouted, having come to attention as soon as she had understood what he had been up to. Both, to their own utmost astonishment, managed to remain completely earnest.
“Whoa, that’s quite a show you two put up there!” AJ shouted, laughing. “If you succeed to keep it up, they might actually believe you and let you live. Mac, you’re the sweetest cadet I ever laid eyes on!”
Mac blushed. “Thank you. I do hope it works for the other teachers as well. I’ve been out of school for quite a bit and I just hope, with all my thorough general knowledge of the world, there won’t be too many gaps in my education to make it obvious that I’ve been out of it for so many years.”
“You can always excuse that with your long stay at the hospital,” Fred suggested, Claire nodding her consent.
“Well, let’s just hope they buy it. But wait...” she vanished out of the room again and they heard her saying: “I didn’t show you the best part, yet. Everybody listen to what I learnt during the last forty-eight hours!”
After a moment, they heard a muffled ‘thump – thump – thump, thump, thump – thump – thump – thump, thump, thump...’ that grew louder and louder until Mac came into sight again. That is, the first thing the whole party could see of her was an enormous bass drum that she wore like she would a backpack in front. A moment later Mac emerged from behind the doorpost, quite easily marching and drumming her rhythm. In front of the living-room table she came to a halt, drumming on and letting her friends hear the variety of different basic rhythms that she had practiced with Agent Burns after Harm had explained to her how to read a music score. That had been an awful lot to take in all in one, but she had been as headstrong as Harm had been patient, and on Friday morning around 0600 local she had finally been able to pass any test he’d set up for her – after a marathon of twenty hours filled with nothing else than study. Friday morning Burns had come to Harm’s place and had taught them both whatever they were able to swallow in the few time they had at hand.
Harm again rose from his chair, took his conductor’s baton that he had been showing to his friends and stepped in front of her. He took the lead of her rhythm and she let him lead her. When he slowed down so did she, when he changed from her four-four time to a quicker three-four time she complied like they had practiced all day with Burns. Everyone could see that the Agent had done a good job instructing them. When Harm led their improvised one-man piece to a conclusion everyone clapped their hands.
“Good work, Colonel, Commander,” AJ said with a huge grin. “I see, as always, you did a thorough research on your case.”
“You could put it that way, sir,” Harm chuckled.
Sun, May 17th
2109 ZULU
Times Square
New York City, N.Y.
“I wish we could just stroll on like that, holding hands, glancing up at the remnants of sky between the skyscrapers...” Mac said longingly, squeezing Harm’s hand.
“Yeah...” Harm, with a smile, watched his beautiful Marine take in the surroundings, for once a tourist and not on a mission. “But I fear we have to put it off until the investigation is over,” he reminded her softly, his voice conveying as much regret as she had expressed before.
“Hu hummm,” she agreed reluctantly. “My clock tells me it’s time for goodbyes now.”
“Time to say goodbye,” Harm sang sappily, grinning.
“Don’t turn Bocelli on me,” she threatened with a chuckle. Then her face sobered. “This could turn out quite a long investigation, you know. We have no clue what to look for and where and how simple it will be to blend in. And I dread the thought of seeing you every day, even talking to you, but not being allowed to show you how much you mean to me and how happy I am with you!”
Harm pulled her into a tight hug, a sad smile on his face. “I can only tell you that however distant I’ll have to be regarding you, you can always be sure of my love, Sarah. You’ve made me come home to myself, get to know what it is I want for my life. And the Nile would freeze before I’ll ever let go of this treasure again. But that reminds me...” He lunged into his pocket and pulled out a small booklet, covered in fine leather. “Take this, Mac, and whenever you feel like talking to me and can’t get near the Internet, write everything down and it’ll be as if I were listening, okay?”
Mac swallowed. “Thanks, Harm,” she whispered. “This means a lot to me. But before you go...” She opened her purse and pulled out a small case, handing it to him with a mischievous, though teary grin.
Harm opened it and cast a questioning look at her when he saw what it contained: reading glasses, just like the ones AJ wore, the ones you could look over the top.
“Mac, I’m a pilot. If I needed glasses I couldn’t be. What are these for?” he asked, at a loss.
She smiled openly. “I know. But I always find that with AJ they underline authority. He seems more respectable and intellectual when he puts them on. You’re a professor of a well-renowned college now, sailor. I don’t know how on earth you plan to do it but you have to seem a respectable person. So I thought these might help. They’re nothing more than pocket-lenses really. But they’ll do you credit. And you can always imagine seeing the world through my eyes.”
Harm’s smile was radiating from inside his heart. “There’s nothing I’d rather do. Thanks, Marine. Take care of yourself, will you?”
“You, too. Give me ten minutes to vanish from your vicinity, then you can set off for Long Island as well. The way we arrive, they won’t suspect we flew in together.” Mac took her bag, glad her luggage had been sent directly to the college.
“Aye, ma’am. I love you, Sarah.” Harm kissed her tenderly and then shooed her off.
“I love you back.” She set off to catch a cab, without turning anymore to wave.
Sun, May 17th
2232 ZULU
Dwayne Myers Naval College
Long Island, N.Y.
Mac had changed into her uniform at a small restaurant near the college. From there she had walked right up to the front gate. After the guards had taken her to the headmaster – Captain Wells welcoming her without giving the slightest hint about the fact that he knew who she was – Mac had signed in, collected her luggage in the entrance hall and was now walking towards what would be her home for she didn’t know how long.
The campus was shaded by huge oak trees whose age seemed to be more conveniently counted in centuries than in decades. The dorms were built in solid brick-stone as was the main school building. Everything was kept in the neatest order, planned to be impressive from the start. There were few places where Mac had seen so much beautifully carved and polished mahogany wood, so many shining brass ornaments and marble floors as people could find in the main complex. Everything looked extremely expensive. More than once Mac had caught herself thinking: ‘What am I doing here? I don’t belong in these circles of society.’ And it had taken her all her USMC pride to tell herself: ‘Sure you do, and more than everyone else around. ‘Cause you earned it yourself, without a penny from your father.’
Having turned around a corner, she finally stood in front of the right building. ‘House Mistral’ could be read above the entrance. ‘Sure fits those sailors,’ Mac thought grinning, remembering she had already passed other ‘windy’ houses like ‘Cephir’, ‘Trade Wind’ or ‘Bora’. She opened the heavy oak door, pushed inside first her luggage, then herself and headed upwards to find apartment No. 1023. Upon arriving in front of the door, Mac drew one last deep breath and let go of Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, becoming Cadet Second Year Patricia O’Hara.
Upon her knocking a petite blonde opened the door, smiling curiously. “Can I help you?”
“Er... hi. You must be Jeannine. I’m Pat. I think I’m your new roommate.” Mac thought straightforwardness might be appropriate.
A shadow clouded Cadet Stiller’s face for a second or two, Mac noted. Then the girl shook herself from her musing and offered Mac a genuine smile. “Hi, glad to meet you. Come in and make yourself at home.”
Ice broken. Mac suppressed a sigh of relief and returned the smile. “Thanks,” she said and stepped into the room.
The little apartment had more space than one would think from outside. It consisted of two small single bedrooms with doors to supply a minimum amount of privacy. The two rooms shared a small entrance hall, a living-room, a kitchen and a bathroom. Each bedroom contained a rather large and long bed, a big cupboard, a desk with drawers, a dressing-table and a washing-basin. In the living-room stood a small dining-table with four chairs, two armchairs with a fitting couch and coffee-table, a TV set and stereo and bookshelves. Huge windows let in the evening sun and offered a beautiful view of the shore.
“Wow,” was Mac’s instantaneous comment.
“We’re among the lucky ones with west windows,” Jeannine said with a wink.
“Lucky, I daresay,” Mac agreed. When Jeannine offered to help her with getting her things into place she readily agreed.
“So, where did the girl go whose place I’m going to take?” she asked lightly, seemingly unaware of the tragedy.
Jeannine swallowed. “She... committed suicide. Personal problems,” was all she said.
Mac feigned shock. “ Oh my God... I’m so sorry. You... uhm... were good friends, I suppose?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah. The best. But, please, Pat, I’d rather not go into that right now, okay?”
“Sure. I’m sorry. Uhm, listen, Jeannine, I know you don’t know me yet, but I wanted you to know that if you should ever feel you needed someone to listen... you can always come to me, okay? No matter what time.” Mac tried a reassuring smile.
Jeannine seemed to relax. Maybe she had been lucky with her new roommate. “Thank you, Pat,” she said simply and then added: “My friends call me Janni.” She held out her hand. Mac took it and squeezed it, feeling she might be able to be friends with this girl.
They were silently putting Mac’s clothes into her cupboard when Jeannine spoke up, just a hint of curiosity showing in her voice. Mac bit back a smile. “You’re older than twenty, aren’t you, Pat?”
“Yeah. I’m twenty-four,” she stated simply.
“How’s that – if you don’t mind my asking.”
Mac knew that now the serious acting was about to begin. She took a deep breath. “I was ill.”
“I’m sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it...” Jeannine seemed embarrassed.
“No, it’s okay,” Mac said quietly, inwardly abhorring the thought of having to tell a lie that at the same time was deadly true for so many other people. But it couldn’t be helped. “I was diagnosed with leukemia when I was nineteen. That’s kept me out of life for quite a bit but a year ago I was finally strong enough to follow my dreams of joining the navy.” ‘Did I really say that?’ she wondered.
“Oh my God. You’ve been through a lot then, I imagine,” Jeannine said compassionately.
“Yes, I have,” Mac confirmed, telling the truth this time. “Where are you from?” she changed the subject after a little silent interval.
“Freeport, Maine. And you?”
“Santa Monica, California. Do you have a big family back home?”
“My dad died when I was thirteen. I’ve been living with my mom and my elder Brother Jake ever since. He’s in the navy, too, flying helicopters. My mom’s a teacher.” Jeannine smiled a sad smile. “I could never have come here if it wasn’t for my scholarship. Music, you know, I’m the solo flute in the college marching band. What about you?”
‘Don’t panic, Marine. Think of Harm and of how you want your family to be.’ “I have two elder sisters, Karen and Frances. They are working with my parents. My family’s in IT business. I’m some sort of black sheep of the family, wanting to follow my grandpa’s career at any cost.” Mac gave her a mockingly frowning smile. Jeannine chuckled.
“What are the others like?” Mac wanted to know. “Honestly.”
Jeannine sighed. “Well, most of them are nice, I suppose. But I’m not as lucky as you, Pat. They’re gonna love you ‘cause you’re one of them. I’m no sparkling addition to society.”
‘If you knew just how much I understand how you feel, Cadet,’ Mac thought. Then she rolled her eyes. “Oh God, I hate those snobs. That’s why I didn’t want to come here in the first place. I started college in San Diego and the atmosphere’s very easy down there. I feared up here I might find just what you described. But they’re not all like that, are they?”
“No. Most of them, but some are really nice. My close friend Dorothy and her roommate, for example. They live next door to us. She and Cassandra sure are rich but they don’t let it show. And we’re all in the band. That’s some kind of connection. They, me and Meryl, er, the girl who used to live here, we were quite a lucky clover leaf. Do you play?”
Mac pointed her index to a big case on the floor. “Yep.”
Jeannine studied the form of the case, seemingly unsure what to make of it. “Ah... percussion?”
“Yeah. Bass drum.” Seeing Jeannine’s dumbfounded expression she allowed herself a hearty laugh that had haunted her long before. “I’m not really into music, just doing my mom a favor. But if people are nice it’s fun for me, too.”
Jeannine slightly slapped her on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’m glad you’ll join us, Pat. You’ll see just how much fun it’ll be.” They had finished unpacking. Mac felt herself taken by the arm by Jeannine.
“Come on, Pat, I’ll introduce you to Dorrie and Cass.”
Together they went to the adjoining apartment and Jeannine introduced Mac to a very tall redhead, Dorothy, who was a little stout and played the trombone, and to a handsome brunette about her own size, Cassandra, whose instrument was the French horn. They gave Mac a hearty welcome and immediately introduced the girls to the newest gossip.
“Did you hear Laird is ill?” Dorothy asked excitedly.
“No. Any reason to be happy, Dorrie? I thought we agreed to like him.” Jeannine was confused. “And what about our concert?”
“Of course I’d rather he were here,” Dorothy admitted, “But without Meryl’s clarinet I doubt we’ll have our Benny-Goodman soirée at all. But,” her excited smile returned, “You’ll never guess who’s been sent to replace Cmdr. Laird while he’s ill. I heard it from Brandon,” turning to Mac, “My elder brother, you know, he’s in school admin. They couldn’t come up with a real music teacher this quickly so they requested...” she let her glance slowly wander from one curious face to the next one, “Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr.! And he agreed to help out!”
“Oh my God!!!” Cassandra cried. “My hero ever since we saw that concert!”
“What concert?” Mac asked innocently, inwardly jumping up and down at the mentioning of Harm’s name.
Three very astonished faces turned to her. “What, you didn’t see that?” Jeannine asked, aghast.
“No, what?” Mac replied with a laugh.
“Dear Patricia, you missed the event of the year, speaking in navy terms, that is,” Dorothy said. “There was a huge charity concert and each governmental or military institution was to send one of their personnel to play on stage. Our friend Meryl was supposed to play for the navy but she... well, she...”
“Committed suicide,” Mac cut in quietly.
“Yeah... Anyway, Rabb replaced her with four days’ knowledge and he played an awesome guitar concerto. He deeply impressed all of us. And he’s awesome himself,” Dorothy added. “Tough guy, aviator, you know, but now he’s a lawyer with the JAG and he’s sooo good-looking! And he’s a great musician, very sensitive. Perfect man, if there’s one, I daresay.”
‘Tell me about it,’ Mac thought happily. ‘And there’s so much you don’t know about his qualities.’ “Well, I’m getting curious to see that wonder guy,” she stated dryly.
“Don’t get your nose up too high, Cadet,” Cassandra warned her, laughing. “I’d bet a hundred dollars that you’ll find him just as smashing as we all do.”
“We’ll see,” Mac retorted with a well-guarded smile. From the corner of her eye she had been observing Jeannine. Cadet Stiller had jumped at Harm’s name but seemed to have realized by now that he must have kept his promise and come to help her. Mac sensed that the girl was slowly relaxing, even without knowing that direct protection had just moved into her apartment. Jeannine’s eyes began to slightly shine with a barely noticeable trace of relief and gratefulness that could only be detected by someone who knew of her secret conversation with Harm.
Just then a loud, old-fashioned bell was heard throughout the building.
“Dinner!” Dorothy exclaimed happily. “I’m starving!”
“When aren’t you?” Cassandra snickered.
“Shut up and come on, Cadet,” Dorothy shouted. “I’m sure they’ll introduce Rabb to the school now.”
“Oh my, I’m not going to miss that one!” Cassandra grabbed her key and closed the door behind the foursome. Then they hurried in the direction of the main building.
To be continued...
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