| Subject: 'Dissonance' - Part Nine |
Author:
Daenar
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Date Posted: 15:21:22 07/24/02 Wed
In reply to:
Daenar
's message, "'Dissonance' - Part Eight" on 15:16:02 07/24/02 Wed
‘Dissonance’ – Part Nine
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
Sun, June 21st
1545 ZULU
Dwayne Myers Naval College
Long Island, N.Y.
Frowning, Harm put on his cover as he stepped out onto the sunlit campus. If the temperature continued to rise as it did, his dress whites would be soaked by the time he had to go on stage tonight. Normally, he’d have changed into them only after a nice cold shower around 1700, but something had come up that forced him to wear them all day. Yesterday morning the news had spread across the campus that Senator Hillary Clinton had decided to visit the college this morning and attend the concert in the evening. So for her reception, all had been ordered to wear dress uniforms. ‘The only good thing about all this is that I actually get to see Mac wear dress whites,’ he thought with a smile.
Cadets, professors, personnel and guests were gathering on the central plaza where the members of the band were already setting up music stands and chairs. As Harm was slowly walking over to his musicians, he heard a familiar voice call out to him.
“Commander Rabb! Sir!”
He turned around and a radiant smile lit up his face. “Bud! My God, Lieutenant, it’s so good to see you! And you, Harriet,” he greeted the young blonde who, after so many months, for the first time seemed as happy and good-natured as they’d always known her before Bud’s injury.
Bud approached to greet his friend, walking with the aid of crutches. Harm raised his eyebrows. “This looks good, Bud. Last time I saw you, you were still in a wheelchair.”
“Yeah, but a couple of months ago they gave me this,” he knocked one crutch against the leg he had originally lost, letting hear a muffled ‘clank’ through the uniform trousers. “Do you remember the movie ‘Forrest Gump’, sir? Well, this one is a model they developed on the basis of the prostheses they gave Lieutenant Dan, you know, those high-tech things. Only that he had two of them.” Bud’s smile still had a sad edge but Harm could tell he was fighting hard to carry on, and he was enormously relieved to find Bud so much changed for the better, compared to when he’d last met him.
“Well, I’d say you’re doing great, Bud.”
To his astonishment, Harm saw the lieutenant smile a little embarrassedly. “Not really, sir. You know, I’m supposed to walk without crutches by now.”
“And he’s really good at it,” Harriet eagerly cut in.
“But on special occasions like today I’m always afraid I might lose my footing and fall,” Bud admitted, “So I take the crutches. I feel more secure.”
“I don’t think having that bit of security on a special occasion will prolong your rehab very much, ” Harm said with a reassuring smile, gently patting his friend on the back.
Just then Harm caught a glimpse of Mac carrying her drum over to the band. She looked over, saw her friends and felt she couldn’t resist the urge to come over and greet them personally. So when she’d joined the band, she turned to Dorothy.
“Dorrie, I’ll just leave my drum with you for a second, okay? I see Cmdr. Rabb standing over there and I need to ask him something about the repetition of the second half of ‘Madhouse’. You know he’s gonna be all giddy when he finally joins us.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Taking her ‘Madhouse’ score, Mac gladly walked over to the little group of officers that fortunately stood a little away from other people, at least far enough not to be overheard.
Harriet tugged at Harm’s sleeve and made him turn in Mac’s direction, just as she came to attention in front of her friends. Suppressing a grin, Harm saluted back.
“At ease, Cadet O’Hara,” he said with a wink and earned a slight smile from Mac in return. “What can I do for you?”
“Sir, I wanted to ask you what you decided concerning my part in the repetition of the second half of ‘Madhouse’.” With a wink she opened the score and started to point out something to him. He played along, bending slightly over the sheets. Harriet and Bud came a little closer, as if they were interested in the advice Harm gave one of his students.
“Bud, it’s so good to see you!” Mac said in a low voice, never taking her eyes off the pentagram Harm was pointing out to her.
“Same here, ma’am,” Bud said, intently looking at Harriet, “Did you know dress whites become you, ma’am?”
Harriet had to fight hard to keep her straight face as she seemingly addressed Harm. “Ma’am, how are things going? The commander torturing you with homework?”
Harm nodded, seeming to consider the options for Cadet O’Hara’s involvement in the ‘Madhouse’ arrangement.
Mac, too, looked up at Harm questioningly, as she replied: “I’m standing my ground, Harriet. Lately we seem to have made progress with the investigation, so, with a bit of luck, we might be out of here soon.”
Harm cleared his throat and after a whispered “There’s something to dress whites, I admit, Marine,” said: “That’s how we do it, Cadet. Now, please go and join the others. I’ll be right with you.”
“Aye, sir,” said Mac, snapping to attention with the hint of a threatening smile in his direction for his last remark.
“Dismissed.” Again, Harm greeted her and she turned and walked back to the band.
“Is she okay, sir?” Harriet asked concerned.
Harm suppressed a grin. ‘Somehow I get the feeling she’s never been better,’ he thought. “Mac’s just fine, Harriet. We exchange a lot of emails and as far as I know, she’s doing well. She’s one of my most ardent students,” he added, letting his grin finally come out.
“I see,” Harriet smirked. Bud silently smiled to himself, comfortably leaning on his crutches.
Harm glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, folks, but our guest will arrive shortly and we’re supposed to be playing when she does. Bud, I want you and Fred to join me after the reception. I need to show you something that’s really interesting.”
“Aye, sir,” Bud replied with a smile. It felt good to be back.
The official part of the morning went rather well. The band played two pieces at Senator Clinton’s arrival, the ‘Stars and Stripes’ and ‘Blue Skies’ from the Goodman program. Fred had some difficulties coping with his saber while playing. Tonight covers, gloves and sabers wouldn’t be worn on stage but now, being at an open-air reception, they were. He tried not to move too much and luckily his tone didn’t suffer from his uneasiness. Bud and Harriet were impressed and said that much to Claire who had joined them by now.
After the speeches and thanks part the band played a short march and Senator Clinton approached and exchanged a few words with Harm. While guests and college inhabitants shared a drink on the plaza, the Senator was given a short tour around the college grounds. When she returned, all went to have lunch and only after that, Harm found a possibility to pull his friends aside.
“I think you haven’t met yet, have you?” Harm looked at the lieutenants.
“No, sir, I haven’t had the pleasure,” Fred said a little stiffly, indicating that he was nervous once again.
Harriet had obviously briefed Bud about this trait of Fred’s character. He smiled, indicating that he didn’t take offence. “Lieutenant Bud Roberts. Pleased to meet you.”
Fred relaxed a little and immediately took up his officer-and-gentleman attitude again. “Lieutenant, j.g. Federico Prumetti, sir. My friends call me Fred. Equally pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Lieutenants, let’s take this to the library,” Harm said quietly, motioning for them to follow him.
They walked over to the impressive building and entered it. Harm led them to a quiet room where some older geographical items were stored. Reaching behind a row of books on a shelf, he pulled out Cadet Waters’s diary.
“What’s that, sir?” Fred asked, curious.
“This seems to be the missing link in the crime scheme,” Harm explained. “We still don’t have any ideas about who killed her, but Cadet Waters at least supplied us with the organization of the drug commerce the CIA’s been investigating.”
“Uhm, how so, sir?” Bud asked.
“I’ll read you some of her notes,” Harm said. “So, here goes:
‘Monday, April 20th: All aboard the Cleveland. Nice ship. It’s got two...’
wait, I’ll leave that out, that’s just description... yadayadayada... okay,
‘We’re only eight cadets this time, actually I don’t know why. Anyway, it’s going to be nice. Sure, I already miss Pablo, but as Pedro...’
that’s Pedro Godoy, fourth year, a cousin of the Gonzalezes,
‘As Pedro’s supervising it’ll be fun.’
The next four days go smoothly, she writes about almost everything and nothing. She spends a lot of time with Cadet Godoy. But now it gets really interesting.
‘Saturday, April 25th: Arrived at Kingston in the morning. We were given a few hours of leave. I’m a little disappointed in Pedro. He’s been very curt and almost rude all day. He knows Kingston and I asked him to show me some of it. But he wouldn’t . Normally he’d agree at once. When I asked him why not, he said he had something to do for his uncle’s firm. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d be around when they cut deals. I’ve accompanied Pablo more than once and even Pedro, a few weeks back. But he said he didn’t want me around, and the way he said it! Don’t think I’ll forgive him very easily! I have been out with Mills and Scott instead. Was okay, I guess. Only that neither of us knew what we were looking at. Pedro’s only just returned. I’m sure he’s in trouble. The CAG doesn’t like it when you’re late! When I finished my turn of duty, I went down to the galley to greet the cook. His name’s Raoul Alvarez and he makes an awesome gumbo! He’s about forty and he’s a nice guy. We mainly talk about music. He loves salsa and Cuban ‘son’ and he knows a lot about them. Nice pastime. Talked to Pablo on the phone – too short (sigh!). Tells me not to worry about Pedro getting moody at times. Don’t know if I like it.’
Okay... yadayada... here’s the crucial passage:
‘Tuesday, April 28th: Though Pedro’s back to normal after our departure from Kingston, today he’s acting like a jerk again. We arrived in Miami and I asked him again about taking stroll. He was even more blunt than he was earlier. Right now I’m sitting here all alone. I’d waited for him to get off duty, so all the others are already gone and all over town. Guess, I’ll go find Raoul. He’s always got fresh coffee for me. I feel like I need it right now.’
The next bit seems scribbled very quickly and her handwriting’s a bit shaky.
‘Been down to the galley. No sign of Raoul. Decided to fix my own coffee. No coffee. Went into storage. Looking for coffee, I stumbled over a pile of sacks I hadn’t seen ‘cause they were kind of hidden in a corner. One fell down and opened. Looked like flour. Actually read ‘flour’ on the sack. But I know where the flour is stored and they normally use a special type. Raoul explained that to me when he showed me how to fix his famous special pancakes. Got suspicious and tasted. I’ll be damned if that’s flour! I don’t know what exactly they keep down there but I’m almost sure it’s some kind of a drug. God, I’m beside myself! Looked up the loading lists from Norfolk, the flour isn’t on it. I don’t know who’s brought it on board and how and how he wants to clear it back at Norfolk. I’m gonna call Pablo. He always knows what to do.’
So that’s her initial mistake. She actually called the Gonzalezes of all people! Anyway, no long entries the next day. I’ll skip to the last entry which is rather interesting, too.
‘Thursday, April 30th: God, I can’t wait to get off this ship! I’m scared out of my mind and what doesn’t really help is that my strange behavior seems to annoy my friends. Pedro and Raoul, mostly. They eye me suspiciously and avoid me. I’ve tried to calm down but I can’t. Pablo called yesterday, saying he was calling from a payphone as his cell was broken. I can’t reach him. I need Janni, badly. I need to tell her. But somewhere deep in my gut I have a really bad feeling. So I decided to leave a backup message for her in case I don’t get round to telling her for whatever reason. Someone should know besides me. So there’ll at least be two of us to try and straighten out this mess! I’ll store this diary someplace safe and leave a hint that she’ll be able to work out. I don’t dare to do it openly. My God, I wish we were back!’
That’s it. I already called Webb this morning. He’s got his people working on it right now, and he’s confident to have it all wrapped up before night. What do you think, Lieutenants?”
Fred and Bud exchanged a frown. “Pretty obvious, I’d say,” Fred stated, slightly shocked.
“I think so, too,” Bud agreed. “So now that Webb is...”
He didn’t get any further than that because suddenly Fred whirled around, instinctively drew his saber as he didn’t carry a sidearm with his dress whites, and shouted to Harm: “Sir! Watch out!”
Harm instantly dragged Bud out of the line of fire as the first shot rang out. Immediately taking in the situation, he knew at once that their odds were miserable. Outside, the brass ensemble of the band, together with the percussion, had begun to play a little on their own, obviously entertaining the guests. The library was rather far from the dorms or the plaza. And with the loud music he was sure no one could have heard the shot that had been muffled by a silencer.
They were unarmed. The only ‘weapons’ they had were Fred’s decorated steel saber and one of Bud’s crutches – he had lost the other when he was dragged out of the way. They were cornered between two shelves, their way out blocked by four Hispanic-looking guys carrying guns with silencers. They couldn’t have run, anyway, with Bud at their side. Silently glancing at each other and swallowing heavily, the three navy officers squared their shoulders and lifted their heads, preparing to meet their destiny as the four assaulters slowly closed in on them.
Same time
Plaza
Dwayne Myers Naval College
Long Island, N.Y.
Jeannine was listening to the brass band, enjoying the fact that for once Cassandra had the lead and she could actually listen. For the first time she really watched Mac playing her drum. ‘For someone who didn’t even know how to really read music three weeks ago, she’s doing great,’ Jeannine observed to herself, her admiration for the colonel still growing. Yes, one day she would be like her, promised to herself once again.
Suddenly she became aware that the ‘Stardust’ topic hadn’t been mentioned yet. Feeling that she absolutely needed to make sure the right copy had been found, and silently wondering if indeed there could have been more to the score than just errors, she resolved to find Cmdr. Rabb. As she didn’t see him around, Jeannine approached the blonde lieutenant he seemed to be friends with. Maybe she knew where he was.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” Jeannine snapped to attention.
Harriet, who was animatedly talking to Claire, turned around and with a smile saluted back. “Yes, Cadet? Can I help you?”
“Cadet Jeannine Stiller, ma’am. I play the solo flute in the marching band and I need to find Cmdr. Rabb. Do you happen to know where I can find him?”
Harriet kept her eyebrows from rising. So this was the poor girl who had come to see Harm. In a gentler voice still, she answered: “I do, Cadet. I think he’s gone to the library with my husband and Lt. Prumetti.”
“Thank you very much, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome, Cadet.”
Jeannine greeted again and Harriet with a smiling salute dismissed her.
Upon entering the silent building of the library Jeannine suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Had that been a gunshot she’d just heard? Feeling herself start to tremble heavily, she thought of Mac and willed herself to stay calm. Cautiously she followed the long corridor in the direction that she suspected the shot to have come from.
At the back, a door stood slightly ajar. She heard angry hisses and muffled commands. Holding her breath, she carefully peeped around the corner and stifled a cry at what she saw. Rabb, Prumetti and the lieutenant’s husband were gagged and being bound. Rabb was lying on the floor. He had bruises on his temple. The others seemed to be all right, except for their pallor.
“Les traemos a la cabaña de barcas, debajo la resaca del pinar. El jefe aguarda a nosotros allí,” Jeannine heard one of the kidnappers say. [We get them to the boathouse, along the shore with the pines. The boss will be waiting for us there.]
When she saw them begin to lift the commander, Jeannine knew she had to get away ASAP. Slipping out of her shoes and taking them in her hands, she sprinted out of the library at top speed.
Outside the building she put her shoes back on and casually strolled over to the plaza. The brass ensemble had just finished another piece and Jeannine seized the opportunity and slipped between the musicians of the percussion group, her expression immediately telling Mac that something was wrong. With a smile Mac excused herself and followed Jeannine who lead her over to where Harriet and Claire were standing.
Astonished to see Mac and Stiller coming to attention before her, Harriet put them at ease and, with growing anxiety at the Cadet’s expression, asked for an explanation. She could see that Mac was just as curious as herself and Claire.
“Ma’am, the commander, your husband and Lt. Prumetti have just been taken hostage,” Jeannine quickly told them in a guarded voice. “Some Spanish speaking guys are going to take them to a hidden boathouse I happen to know. The commander seems to be injured.”
Mac had to refrain from jumping as Jeannine mentioned Harm. She had to stick to her cover. Nothing but the tight edge in her voice conveyed her inward turmoil. “How do we get there?” she whispered.
“It’s past the ‘Driftwood’. After half a mile we have to turn left,” Jeannine explained quietly.
Harriet had by now regained her composure and knew she had to play the part of the highest-ranking officer. She put on a grim face. “Well, then, Cadet Stiller, Cadet O’Hara, Miss Farnham, I suppose it’s up to us to rescue the guys. Follow me to the gate, I’ll get you past the guards.”
“I have my sidearm in my apartment,” Mac said. “I’m going to get it.”
“And I know where Fred’s is,” put in Claire, trying to steady her voice.
“Okay. We’ll meet at the gate in five. Dismissed, Cadets,” Harriet said.
“Aye, ma’am,” Jeannine and Mac replied, turned and left the plaza, trying not to be too conspicuous.
Five minutes later, four women – a lieutenant and two cadets, all in dress whites, and a civilian, clad in a stylish light-blue suit – approached the main entrance to the college. Claire stayed back a little while Harriet, Mac and Jeannine approached the guard, a young Marine corporal who instantly came to attention.
“Ma’am!”
“At ease, Corporal!” Harriet’s voice would have intimidated any Marine. “I’m Lt. Harriet Sims, JAG headquarters. I need those two, Cadet Second Year Jeannine Stiller and Cadet Second Year Patricia O’Hara, to accompany me on an errand.”
The corporal hesitated a second as if to object, then met Harriet’s icy stare and wrote down the names. “Aye, ma’am.” Claire handed him her visitor’s badge and the foursome set off in the direction of the beach, silently condemning their high heels.
They had taken off their shoes to be able to walk faster on the sand. As they approached the ‘Driftwood’, the beach was starting to get rather crowded so they put them on again and, chatting, fell into a companionable strolling pace, trying to make people believe they were enjoying the sun. They knew they were rather conspicuous in their dress uniforms and that fact would be a hinderance once they got near the boathouse, but time was short and it couldn’t be helped. Eventually, Jeannine stopped.
“We have to take this path between the dunes, ma’am,” she told Harriet.
“Okay,” Harriet replied without a moment’s hesitation. “So we’ll do it just as we planned on the way here. Claire and Mac, you are armed, so you go to the rescue, while Jeannine and I keep the guards busy. Let’s just hope there’s not too many of them.”
“I’ll have to get on top of the boathouse,” Claire said, “So what if I went first and signaled you from that dune over there how many of them are down there?”
“Good thinking, Claire,” Mac replied. “I’ll go for the direct approach between the dunes as soon as Harriet and Janni have the guards’ attention. Signal me when you see them. I’ll stay right here until you do.”
“Okay.”
The four women for a moment looked silently at each other. “Good luck,” they finally said simultaneously. The following chuckles somewhat managed to ease the tension.
Claire put on a grim half-grin, stuffed her shoes into the pockets of her jacket and began to climb the dunes. A couple of minutes later she reappeared on the dune she had pointed out, holding up four fingers of her right hand, with her left hand indicating that those four guards were outside. She then pointed her right index down directly and visibly shrugged as if to say that she didn’t know how many men were inside the boathouse.
Harriet acknowledged with a nod, put on a radiant smile, wrapped her arm around Jeannine’s shoulder and began telling her stories of little AJ, walking towards the boathouse. Mac waited, silently praying that Harm hadn’t played the hero once again. ‘God, let him be okay,’ she kept repeating fervently in her mind. Finally Claire signaled her to approach. Trying to stay close to the dunes, Mac set off, her gun drawn. She saw Claire cautiously lower herself from above onto the roof of the boathouse, taking out Fred’s sidearm.
As Mac peeped around the last dune that separated her from the boathouse, she saw Harriet and Jeannine converse happily with two of the guards.
“You know, we’re not from here. It’s so easy to get lost,” she heard Harriet say with an embarrassed laugh, casting one of them a flirtatious smile. The man seemed to be flattered and started pointing something out to her, the other one eager to contribute his part and earning himself an equally seductive, innocent smile. Harriet had taken off her jacket and casually held it in front of her belly, thus covering the little swell that otherwise would have been noted.
‘Good job, Lt. Sims.’ Mac would have grinned at the display, had she not been consumed with worry for Harm’s well-being.
The guards that Harriet and Jeannine were talking to had now their backs turned to the boathouse, indicating and explaining some path to the charming young women.
‘Men,’ Mac thought, ‘How stupid can they get? They have no defense against feminine wiles.’ From her hideout she looked over to Claire who by now lay flat on top of the house. Claire signaled to her that the other two guards were at the back of the house, one starting to come to the front.
‘I’ll take out the one at the back,’ she mouthed to Mac, underlining her words with gestures. Mac understood and prepared herself. As the fourth guard came around the corner she let him pass her and then silently and swiftly stepped out of her cover behind him and efficiently knocked him down with the butt of her gun. The man went down without uttering a syllable.
Mac looked up to the roof and saw one of Claire’s arms rise, her gun’s butt ready to come down on someone’s head. By the muffled ‘thud’ she heard a moment later, Mac knew that it actually had. She decided it was showtime.
Harm had a massive headache but he tried to ignore the throbbing. He didn’t have a clue where they were or how they got there. The only thing he remembered was that he had stepped out from between the bookshelves with his hands up, trying to negotiate a release for Bud and Fred, saying that he was the investigator. And he remembered the heavy blow he’d felt on his head before all had gotten dark around him.
He had realized that his hands and feet were bound, as were those of Bud and Fred who were sitting next to him. By unspoken agreement, neither of them said anything as they were first questioned by a man unknown to them and by Juan Gonzales himself about who this ‘Webb’ was and who knew about the affair.
The kidnappers had first tried their luck with Bud, believing him to be the weakest, but he had remained silent. They had taken off his prosthesis and kicked his stump cruelly several times, causing him to wince sharply as the injury still hurt badly. But although Harm could see silent tears of pain trickle down the lieutenant’s cheeks, Bud stubbornly pressed his lips together, lifted his chin and stared back at his torturers. Harm was incredibly proud of his young friend.
But now the situation was starting to get out of hand. Juan Gonzalez, with an evil grin, took Fred’s saber and approached the Italian lieutenant, locking his gaze with Harm’s.
“Commander, I know you like this young man, don’t you?” he asked maliciously, pointing the saber at Fred’s throat. The lieutenant closed his eyes and tried not to move although he was starting to tremble badly.
“Leave him alone, Gonzalez!” Harm roared. “It’s me you’re after!”
“He knows about us, so we’re after him, too,” Gonzalez replied coldly. “But I might just spare him if you tell me what I want to know. Consider your options, Rabb. Do you want to be responsible for your friend’s painful death? Or do you prefer to talk?”
“Don’t, sir!” Fred managed to choke out.
Harm swallowed and closed his eyes. It was hopeless. He knew they’d be shot anyway. The syndicate wouldn’t let people live who knew what they did. But he might at least spare Bud and Fred from further torture. “No need for heroes, Fred,” he said quietly, a sad smile on his lips. “All right, Gonzalez. I’ll tell you whom I contacted and what I told him. Let go of my friend.”
He tried to steady himself, drawing a deep breath. ‘Mac,’ he thought, feeling bitter sadness. ‘I’m sorry. I wanted so much to be with you. I thought finally God had mercy upon us and let us have our future together. There’s nothing in the world that I’ve been looking forward to so much as growing old at your side and seeing our kids grow up. I only hope that one day you’ll find the man who’ll finally be able to give you the love and family you deserve. I wanted to be that man but it seems it wasn’t meant to be. But at least I had the guts to tell you. That’ll be my comfort. I’ll miss you, my favorite Marine.’
Suddenly his head snapped up as he heard the door being forced. Gonzalez and the other man whirled around. A shot rang out, and Harm’s heart skipped several beats when he saw his Sarah standing in the doorway, her gun pointed at Gonzalez, whose shirt had started to turn red. With an expression of utmost horror, the Columbian swayed and fell to the ground.
From the corner of his eye, Harm detected a movement. “Mac! Watch out!” he shouted.
Another shot was fired, not from Mac’s gun, but not from the other man’s, either. As the second kidnapper silently went down from a shot to the head, Harm and his coworkers just stared at the trembling figure that had appeared in the doorway. Claire Farnham’s tears started to flow freely and she broke down where she was standing, sobbing violently: “I killed a man! My God, I’m a doctor, and I killed him!”
Hearing the gunfire, the guards started and turned their heads in the direction of the boathouse. But before they had time to think, Harriet silently and efficiently exercised her Singer-tested right hook on the distracted man and efficiently took him out. The second guard started to draw his gun but Jeannine’s knee very pointedly met his most sensible parts and the pain made him drop the gun and drop to his knees. Harriet picked up the gun and pistol-whipped him with it to knock him unconscious.”
“Not my type, anyway,” she muttered, satisfied, and, together with Jeannine, ran over to the boathouse.
They arrived to find Mac trying to console a totally broken-down Claire. “Claire, you had no choice. If you hadn’t shot him he would have shot someone else. Fred, maybe. It was self-defense.”
Claire looked up with a tear-stained face. “But I am a doctor, Mac,” she said in a low voice. “I swore an oath to save life, not to take it.”
Harriet had instantly understood that freeing Fred was priority number one right now. As soon as she had untied him, the lieutenant ran over to his fiancée and took her into his arms, rocking her gently and soothingly whispering to her in Italian, thus giving them a little privacy. Jeannine untied the two other officers and took whatever rope was left outside to use it on the guards to allow the others privacy as they reunited with their loved ones.
Harriet was too shaken to speak. She and Bud just fiercely held on to one another, crying with relief. Mac went over to Harm and gently encircled him in her arms, suppressing a sob. Examining his bruises, she very slowly felt him relax as he realized that they still had each other.
“I was so scared, Mac,” he confessed in a low voice. “Not so much for my life. But for losing our love and our future. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Remembering that she still had to refrain from openly showing her feelings, she just held him, gently caressing his hair. “I was scared out of my mind, flyboy,” she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. “You okay?”
“I am now. Thank you for saving my life once again, Sarah.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome. But if it hadn’t been for the others, I’d never have made it in time. Jeannine happened to see you being assaulted. She alerted us, and Harriet took the command of the operation.”
“Wow. The four of you really proved that women do stand their ground in combat.” He gave her half a flyboy-grin.
She just kept smiling, holding onto him.
Claire cleared her throat and, with a shaky smile on her lips, stepped over to them. “I’d like to quickly look you over, all of you, just to make sure no one’s been hurt.”
“Go ahead, doctor,” Harm smiled.
Claire examined his bruises and decided he had a slight concussion, but nothing broken. Bud’s stump was a little red and swollen from the blows, but Claire considered it safe to put the prosthesis back on if he promised to let someone help him when he stood. Fred had a tiny cut on his throat where Gonzalez had pointed his saber. But it had already started to clot. Harriet, in her state, luckily hadn’t been involved in any real violence. She just had to promise to Claire to take it easy for the next days. Mac didn’t show any signs of injury, either. Relieved, all left the boathouse and Claire started to look for Jeannine in order to examine her as well. As she walked over to where the cadet was finishing her work by gagging one of the guards with her handkerchief, Mac motioned for Claire to stop, making sure they wouldn’t be overheard.
“Uhm... Claire, could I ask you a favor?” she began uneasily.
Claire’s eyebrows went up a notch. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Do you have your med bag around?”
“Back at Fred’s, at the college, yes.”
“Could I drop by for a minute once we’re back, in private, to get something checked out?”
“Sure.”
Just then Jeannine walked up to them. Mac decided she’d tell Claire when they were alone and, upon mutual agreement, she quickly set off for the college to get help. The others carried the motionless guards into the boathouse and tried to brush the dirt off their dress uniforms. Only then did they start to walk back to the college.
Mac had been running all the way across the sand, feeling the urge to tire herself down to be able to digest the recent events. When she finally arrived at the campus gate, she was panting heavily and her uniform was all but in order. She quickly approached the Marine corporal.
“Have some people sent over to the boathouse half a mile south of the ‘Driftwood’ café,” she ordered in boot-camp voice. “There’s two dead and four ready to be taken in custody.”
The corporal just eyed her from head to toe. “And you would be...?” he said superbly.
After the day’s events, Mac’s patience was almost non-existent. She drew herself up to full height, took off her cadet’s cover and hairpin, quickly shaking her head, and said very pointedly: “Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Catherine Mackenzie, United States Marine Corps, Chief of Staff to the U.S. Navy’s Judge Advocate General.”
The corporal smiled. “Sure. And I’m the Secretary of Defense.”
At this, Mac lost it. She pulled out her dog tags, slammed them on the counter in front of the guard and, with a killing stare, shouted: “Get me MP reinforcements, Corporal. ASAP!”
The corporal jumped, took a look at Mac’s dog tags, blanched visibly, came to attention and shouted: “Yes, ma’am, Colonel Mackenzie, ma’am!” Then, shaking, he quickly grabbed the receiver of his base telephone and executed her order.
Sun, June 21st
1940 ZULU
Fred’s apartment
Dwayne Myers Naval College
Long Island, N.Y.
Fear made Mac clutch the seam of her uniform skirt as she sat and waited for Claire to finish her tests. She had had a certain suspicion for several days now, ever since her menstruation hadn’t set in as punctually as it normally did. Mac would never have worried about a delay of a day or two, but taking the pill, she had always been able to rely on her body to function like clockwork. She always started taking the hormones on Tuesdays, stopped on Mondays and was sure to be due for her menstruation the following Thursday morning. So it worried her that this time, for the first time in years, on Sunday morning there was still no sign of it. For three days she had pushed it away from her thoughts, the investigation being much more important. But now that they seemed to have accomplished their official task, the gnawing uncertainty had come back and she was glad Claire was there to release her from her state of hanging – one way or the other.
As soon as she had made sure that the MPs were underway, Mac had called Webb and had briefed him about the latest events. He had instantly sent his people to arrest Alvarez and any possible accomplices that would come up during the interrogation. Other MPs had been sent to take care of Pedro Godoy and question the Gonzalezes’ other cousins. Hopefully, a hint at who’d killed Meryl Waters would now be within reach, too.
Clay had sung high praise about the discovery of the diary and had mentioned some document the Secnav must have sent to Harm... He had sounded rather strange as he had hinted at the topic, and he had quickly passed on to another one, once he had realized that she didn’t know what he had been talking about. Well, she’d ask Harm later on. But it really seemed that they were finally done with this game of hide-and-seek.
Mac had butterflies in her stomach at the thought of being able to return into Harm’s waiting arms – well, at least privately. On the other hand, she was astonished to feel a slight pang at the thought that she had to leave college life, too. The past few weeks had provided her with an insight into what her youth could have been, had she been born into the ‘right’ family. She was going to miss the fun. And she was going to miss the music. Who’d have guessed?
And now there was this other thing looming over her future. ‘We’ll take one step at a time and let everything develop slowly,’ she remembered Harm telling her in Venice. They’d done great so far. Everything had come up at the right time, they had adjusted to their new relationship with ease. By the by, each of them had dropped little bits of emotional baggage as they carried on down the road.
If her suspicion were proven right, would Harm be ready to face the full consequences of what it meant, and would he do it from the heart, not from a mere sense of honor and duty? Mac sighed heavily and kept counting the seconds, imagining that her stomach had to be completely made of knots by now. After what seemed an eternity to her, although in reality it had been only fourteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds, Claire came back into the room, slightly smiling and obviously unsure how to talk to the colonel.
Mac saw her expression and felt her throat go dry. “Just tell me the verdict, Claire. No beating around the bush.”
Claire cleared her throat. “Well, Mac... I don’t know if this is the way you feel about it right now, but all I have to say is: congratulations.”
To be continued...
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