Notes:
A/N: The volatile fuel of sexual advances, the dry tinder of bikinis and beach volleyball, and the quick spark of a temperament impatient for recognition and advancement provide a firestorm of misery for an officer too slow to react.

This is my reaction to the first introduction of this character. It is based on my imagination from that point on. Throughout JAG there have been ‘good’ characters, and the ‘bad’ characters. Some people believe that no-one is ever all good or all bad. In real life, there are often gray areas for people, but not all people. Some are just rotten. In fiction, I can satisfy my wish for perfect order by having ‘black hats’ and ‘white hats’. If this concept of absolutes bothers you, this story probably isn’t for you. It definitely contains an absolute ‘black hat’.

Warning: There is a suggested sexual situation but nothing portrayed or consummated.

Incidentals: This follows “Automatic For the People”. Everything after that is up for grabs and completely AU. Mattie is living happily ever after with her father.

Credit: As we are all more than aware, these characters are the property DPB. He continues to allow us to play with them. For that I take no compensation, and I am grateful.

Jag HQ
August 15, 2005
0906 hours


Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. sailed into JAG Ops with the very same enthusiasm and disregard for time as he’d had for most of the years he’d been a lawyer. His assignment to China Lake was completed successfully in record time. It had been temporary, so his office would be just the same as he’d left it in March.

What wasn’t the same was the name of Commander Sturgis Turner, with the title Chief of Staff, over the door to the office once occupied by Lt Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. It stopped him in his tracks. Slowly, he resumed movement towards the door of said office, but it was closed and locked. Obviously, its current occupant was elsewhere.

He was called from his trance by the voice of Lt Commander Bud Roberts who had moved to his side.

“Welcome home, sir. How was the assignment in China Lake?” Bud asked brightly, willing to offer a distraction if Harm didn’t want to talk about the colonel.

“Fine, Bud,” he answered still preoccupied, still staring at the offending nameplate. “Where’s Mac?”

“She’s…uh…well…” Suddenly Bud’s intuition kicked in. He understood in a flash that Harm had somehow remained in the dark about occurrences at JAG HQ since he’d left in March. “Sir…I don’t know how…that is…she said she’d contact you,” he finished in a defeated tone.

“Contact me about what, Bud?” Harms tone darkened, he was still curious but his skin was beginning to crawl. “Where is she?” he insisted.

“Sir, I don’t know if I….” Bud was squirming now and silently begged for someone to rescue him.

There were other people in the room and all of them had suddenly become busy with their own tasks. Several had found a pressing reason to leave the bullpen, painfully aware of the meaning of the conversation they were overhearing. No one wanted to tempt the wrath of the famous commander by relating these events to him.

Accepting the fact that he was the messenger and there was no rescue in sight, Bud Roberts tried one more time. “Sir, perhaps the general…”

“Bud, this is me, Harm. Mac is our friend. Now what happened? And don’t call me, sir.”

“Uh…Commander,” Bud looked down, then around the room. “We’re on duty, sir, it’s a military installation,” he stalled, his expressive eyes begging for reprieve.

“In my office now,” Rabb ordered. If that’s the way Bud needed it, so be it.

Closing the door, he turned to face the younger attorney. “Now Bud, tell me, where--is--Mac? And don’t repeat you thought she told me because she didn’t. The last I heard from her was a note about leaving for the conference a week and a half after I went to China Lake. She mentioned that she’d asked the general to give her an extra day or two to come visit me before returning to DC,” Harm clarified the misconception.

“She’s serving a three year sentence in the Quantico Minimum Security Detention Center, sir…uh…Harm,” Bud dropped the bomb in a quick breathless voice.

“She’s where?” Harm’s response was so low it was almost a whisper, but it had all the power of a mighty roar. It was intensely akin to the roar of a mortally wounded lion. Bud pulled back from the force of his friend’s powerful voice. It was like a blow.

“In the…” Bud repeated, but was interrupted.

“I heard you, Bud,” Harm commented harshly and somewhat arbitrarily. “Why? “What charge?” He was getting a very bad feeling about all this.

“Sexual harassment, attempted rape, assault consummated by battery, conduct unbecoming, he recited clinically. There were a few more, I’d have to look them up, sir, that is, Harm.” Bud was desolate. That this had happened was bad enough, that he had to bring the news to Harm, his other mentor and best friend was more than he could handle. For one of the few times in his life his eyes filled with tears.

Harm turned away devastated. Looking out the window, he stared at nothing, trying to reassemble his soul. After a long moment, he asked, “Where?”

“Where what?” Bud was too distressed to think clearly.

“Where did this ‘alleged’ assault take place?” Harm spoke carefully, bitterly.

“Oh. At the JAG conference in San Diego,” Bud supplied distractedly, still struggling with his revisited grief.

Harm just nodded, his wheels turning. “Vukovic?!” he asked, stated.

“Yes, how did you know?” he looked puzzled, then added, “It’s my fault, sir.” The younger man finally broke, and the tears fell on his cheeks.

“Somehow I doubt that, Bud,” Harm responded matter-of-factly.

“It was, Harm,” he protested. “I defended her and we lost.” Bud was verging on inconsolable now. Harm had removed the strictures of military protocol, and Bud was releasing the trauma of this event for the first time since he’d lived it.

“We’ll see about that,” was all Harm said, rubbing his furrowed brow, and turning to face his friend.

“Sir, how did you know it was…?”

“I told her he was dangerous before I left. I told her to watch her back. She became angry with me and said she could handle him. We parted in anger Bud, that’s why I didn’t…” Harm tried to justify not knowing about the horror his former partner and best friend had been subjected to.

“But you just said she was coming to see you,” Bud reminded, not quite shifting some of his burden.

Harm recognized the tactic and knew this was almost more than Bud could bear. For the third time in relatively few years, the younger attorney had suffered a life altering loss that he could nearly blame on himself. It was a wonder he was still sane. “It’s okay, Bud, it wasn’t your fault,” Harm placated patiently. “We were on touchy terms. Still trying to find our way. The fight over Vukovic didn’t help.”

“I was busy, working long hours,” he continued. “By the time I saw her email she’d already arrived in California. I tried to email her back but there was no answer. Then I tried calling. For several days, nearly two weeks, I guess, I left voice messages on her cell and on her home phone. I emailed her a dozen times but she never responded. I figured she was angry that I hadn’t responded immediately, that it was another one of our massive miscommunications. I guess I assumed she just didn’t want anything more to do with me, that once again I’d failed her somehow,” Harm shrugged, baring his feelings. He was staring out the window again, wondering how and when they’d learned to read each other so badly that this could occur.

“I guess I should have tried harder, maybe called the office, but it was personal. When she didn’t reply, I didn’t feel I had the right to pressure her. I guess I thought if anything were seriously was wrong with her, if this wasn’t just personal, someone would let me know.”

“She wouldn’t let us,” Bud replied quietly. “She kept saying she wanted to tell you herself. That she didn’t want you to hear it second hand. We believed she had. It was dumb I guess, but we believed her. The general even offered to bring you back to defend her, but I think he knew she wouldn’t allow that. This assignment was rumored to be critical to your career. She told him she wanted me to do it. I tried sir, I really did, but the evidence was so overwhelming.” The desolate young attorney was at the breaking point.

“Bud,” Harm said sharply. “Whatever happened, whatever they had, you didn’t believe it did you?” Harm was shocked.

Bud raised his head and met his mentor’s eyes, holding the lock as he answered. “Never. Not for a second, but there was no way of disproving it.”

“Tell me, was it ‘he said’ ‘she said,’? Usually they believe the woman. I mean it’s a little unusual for a man to claim assault. It’s not unheard of, not even impossible, but it’s rare. It would take a lot to prove it. Spousal battery on a man, maybe, but rape by a woman?” Harm had trouble getting his mind around the subject, or that anyone in their right mind would believe it of Mac.

“They had an eyewitness, sir, and physical evidence. Epithelia’s, bruising, scratches, stuff like that,” Bud supplied. Ever the attorney, his control returned as he laid out the hard evidence in the case. It was nothing Harm couldn’t research in the records. No privileged communications were involved in this revelation. “I tried to challenge the physical evidence, although there was obviously personal contact and a struggle. It was the eyewitness that swayed the members. She was very sympathetic, sir…Harm,” Bud concluded miserably.

“Someone saw this occur?” Harm was incredulous.

“Up to the point of the…um… attack. She was very credible, sir,” Bud was beginning to see under Harm’s scrutiny that there may have been another way, and it led to a deeper guilt over losing. “Harm I’m sorry, if I’d known you didn’t know…quite frankly, sir, we were surprised when you didn’t come back or at least call.” Bud’s tone was faintly accusing, but lacking conviction in the face of Harm’s stated reasons.

“You thought I’d abandoned her?” The tall commander quietly questioned the vague accusation.

“We…well, we had no idea, more like maybe you believed the charges, or your friendship was so bad now you didn’t want to get involved. I mean a lot has happened for both of you in the last two years. We just didn’t know, I’m sorry. I should have never believed you wouldn’t help. I should have called you,” Bud submersed himself in the misery of the moment.

“You couldn’t, Bud,” Harm absolved him.

“But sir…”

“You couldn’t. You would have been betraying your client’s wishes. Friendship aside, you did what you had to. I’m certain you defended her vigorously, but if she instructed you not to call me it would have been a breach of ethics for you to do so.”

“Maybe,” Bud remained unconvinced.

“Believe me, Bud, this is a shock, but not a surprise. I was afraid of something happening. I didn’t expect it would be anything like this, not in a way I looked for or could have prevented, but I’m not surprised it did. Now that it has, what to do we do about it?” Harm challenged his friend.

“What can we do, sir? I mean she’s been convicted she’s already…” Bud choked, then swallowed hard. “She’s already been confined for three months, sir. Four if you count pre-trial.”

“Damn!” Harm’s face broke for a minute at the thought of his lovely Marine in confinement. He’d been there a few times. Even minimum security had its hardships and risks. It was designed as punishment for the guilty. It was pure hell for the innocent. Taking a deep breath, he grasped at his self-control.

“We’ll appeal the verdict, Bud,” he stated firmly, his wheels already turning. He had to get hold of the transcript and access to the evidence. He had to find out about this ‘witness’ and what her connection was to Greg Vukovic.

“How, sir? On what grounds?” Bud was no longer questioning his friend, just how he could help.

“I don’t know, Bud, but it won’t be inadequate counsel. I’ll guarantee you that much. I need to look at the evidence, I need to talk to Mac, and I need the general’s permission. Are you with me on this?”

“Yes, sir,” Bud’s face cleared all the way. Harm was back and they were going to rescue their friend. He didn’t consider any career ramifications this move would mean. He thought of nothing but righting a wrong. Harm had that effect on people. It was how he operated, and bystanders had a habit of getting caught up in it. Bud had been with Harm frequently when he’d gone in gung-ho to sort out a situation. It hadn’t happened in a while, but he was definitely on board. It would be like old times.

“Good. Who was your co-counsel, who helped you on this case? We’ll need to set up a meeting,” Harm started checking his calendar.

“No one, sir, just me.” Bud looked uncertain.

“You’re kidding right?” Harm knew instinctively the young man was deadly serious. “Bud under extreme circumstances this could have been a capital crime. Are you saying they gave you no second chair, no staff?”

The young attorney shook his head emphatically. “I know that, sir, but the SecNav didn’t want another Tailhook type scandal only in reverse. He kept the entire trial under deep wraps. He ordered Vukovic to stay away from the media, and limited the scope of the trial to just the single incident, the few people involved, forensics, and the investigator. Since Mac was confined the entire time, there was no one else to blame if word got out. So the lieutenant complied.”

“Then your hands were tied,” Harm concluded.

“I was given full access to the evidence and allowed to depose the witness,” Bud defended himself. “But she was very positive about what she saw and heard. I couldn’t find a way to shake her story.”

“Who is she Bud, anyone I know?” Harm asked expecting to find it was someone from this office.

“I don’t think so, sir. Her name is Lt. Catherine Graves. She’s stationed at the Pentagon now,” Bud explained.

“Cathy?” Harm reacted. “Lt. Cathy Graves.”

“Yes sir, do you know her?”

“You bet I do, and if anyone would make a great witness it’s her, she has this clean-cut girl next door aura. The problem is she fancies herself an amateur sleuth. You can give her a pile of evidence and it will repeatedly lead her to precisely the wrong conclusion.”

“How is that, sir?” Bud was interested in this new turn of events.

“She worked with me on my first assignment in China Lake, Bud. Unfortunately, she makes up her mind what the facts are then uses what she knows to support it, instead of letting the evidence lead her to the truth. She’s been used Bud, I’ll bet my career on it,” Harm remarked grimly.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me for saying so, Harm, if you’re going to reopen this can of worms that’s just what you’re doing,” Bud pointed out gently.

“I don’t want you hurt, too, Bud.” Harm started to back away from his friend.

“Are you kidding, sir? Count me in. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” the young attorney beamed at his mentor. “It’s just like old times.”

End of three

The Setup
Part Four

Minimum Security Facility
Quantico, VA
August 29, 2005
1525 hours

While Harm waited nervously for the guard to bring Mac into the conference room, his thoughts strayed to his discussion with the General Cresswell earlier in the day. It had been more than a little unsettling.

“Are you certain you want to do this, Commander? It won’t be popular with the SecNav you know. The completion of your last assignment and the way you handled it virtually assures you a promotion. Rocking the boat at this point may not be in your best interest,” Cresswell warned.

“Im sorry, sir, but I have to do this. I don’t believe for a minute that Mac would behave the way she was accused. In fact, I happen to believe the actual aggressor was Lt Vukovic. I’m just not sure what his motives were, perhaps he thought he could catch her off guard, perhaps he thought more might happen, but he had been insubordinate previously, to say the least,” Harm explained.

“How do you know that, Commander?” the general looked sharply at Harm.

“Because, I overheard him talking to her just before I left for China Lake. Permission to speak freely, sir?” Harm wasn’t going any further on the record.

After a hesitation and another strong look, the general replied. “Permission granted.”

“Sir, I warned the colonel that he was out of line and that she should reprimand him. She told me he was just pushing boundaries, that she needed more before she could actually confront or report him. She felt you held him in high esteem and might not believe her.” Harm related the gist of Mac’s objection.

“She said that? In just that way, Commander?” Cresswell was appalled that one of his officers found him unapproachable on a subject of this importance. He also had the notion that Harm might be sugar coating his comment.

“Well, no, not exactly.” Harm watched the short man tense slightly, then dropped the other shoe. “What she said was you thought he walked on water and she didn’t feel she could say anything negative to you about him.”

For a moment Harm thought the general would explode, then the air went out of him. “I guess I was a little, shall we say ‘overly enthusiastic’ about him. I thought he was a hotshot lawyer, I’ll admit that. Thought he might turn out like you with some counseling, that’s why I turned him over to her, to smooth out the rough edges. I had no idea she felt she couldn’t report his behavior to me.”

He hesitated for a moment walked to the window and stood staring out with his hands clasped behind his back. Slowly he turned. “I had a hard time buying the charges when it happened, but I couldn’t ignore it, Rabb. I had to play it strictly by the book.”

“Yes, sir,” Harm had to give him the fact that a charge like this couldn’t just go away much as the SecNav wanted to brush it under the rug. It was another beef that Harm had with the upper echelons of command. That they would rush something like this through the system in order to fly under the news media radar. He doubted that Mac had an entirely fair trial, but he was determined to correct that.

“The evidence was there or she wouldn’t have been convicted,” the general reminded Harm.

“Yes, sir,” Harm agreed again. “I believe it was, but I’d like to look at the interpretation of the evidence. I believe there’s another explanation.”

Cresswell studied him again before saying. “You know if you’re wrong, if this gets out, your career is over, too.”

“I know, sir,” Harm agreed. “But I know Mac. Something isn’t right here, General, I just don’t know what. I can read the transcripts, but I can’t order a new look at the evidence without your permission. I’d also like to request Bud Roberts help on this.”

The general eyed Harm giving his own interpretation to the source of the commander’s blind determination. “Robert’s is swamped. With both you and the Colonel gone his case load is too heavy. I won’t deny you his help, but it will have to be on his own time for now. You have a stack of cases waiting for you as well. I’ll give you a few days to look into this, but you have other duties, commander,” Cresswell informed him.

“Understood. Thank you, sir,” Harm accepted what he could get.

“The SecNav doesn’t want this in the news,” the general warned again.

“I realize that, sir. I believe I can handle it quietly, as long as I know there will be retribution when I prove this is a miscarriage of justice.” Harm was bargaining hard now.

“That isn’t a threat, is it, mister?” General Cresswell challenged his officer.

“No sir, it’s a promise. Just let me appeal the case quietly. If I’m wrong, I’ll resign. You won’t have to fire me,” Harm vowed.

“But you don’t think you’re wrong, do you?”

“No, sir, I know I’m not. I don’t know what I’ll find, but I know Mac. She didn’t do this, sir, and I’m going to prove it,” Harm declared warmly.

“I never believed it either,” the general spoke softly, almost under his breath.

“Sir?” Harm responded

“Permission granted, Commander, I’ll arrange for you to have access to the evidence,” Cresswell relented, knowing that Harm’s career wouldn’t be the only one on the line if he messed this up. And knowing just as strongly that if anyone could pull it off, that man would be Harmon Rabb.


The clang of the steel door brought the commander back to the present.

“Private Mackenzie reporting as ordered, sir,” she stood ramrod stiff before him. Her shell pulled so tightly around her she looked like she would shatter at any moment. Her entire demeanor was painted with the depressive influence of where she was and how she got there.

His heart wrenched seeing her here like this. There were so many things he wanted to do, to say. His strongest wish was to pull her into his arms and hold her, but it was out of the question. Even using her name to greet her, his voice would betray his sympathy, his concern, and she might break. He couldn’t do that to her. She was enduring a terrible injustice. One she didn’t deserve. She’d been a bit foolish in handling that snake, perhaps too lenient, but she’d done nothing wrong, of that he was certain. More so now that he’d seen the vacant look in her eyes.

No, at this point he had to preserve the appropriate boundaries. The death of her spirit was imminent, hovering in nearby shadows, waiting to wither what remained of her soul. Without Mac’s co-operation, he would get nowhere, and she looked like she’d already given up. She was expecting to be berated, she was expecting ‘I told you so,’ perhaps she was expecting hollow sympathy, but she wasn’t expecting help.

“At ease, private, have a seat,” he kept his tone businesslike, masking the initial shock of seeing her like this. His voice, though, was softer than normal for this kind of situation. Much as it tore at him to address her this way, he had to maintain their relative rank. It only hardened his resolve to reverse this ridiculous miscarriage of justice.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second as though she would protest his invitation, then she lowered herself into the opposing chair. Holding herself tense and straight, she waited for him to speak.

“Tell me what happened, Mac,” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“What’s the point, sir? It’s over,” she responded sullenly. “What are you doing here? It can’t be good for your career. I’m not someone you want to know anymore.” Her despair was stronger than Harm had calculated. Strong enough to encourage resentment and insubordination. He needed to try another tactic.

“That wasn’t a request, private, it was an order.” His command was stronger now, more firm, and neutral, his tough reaction fueled by fear. “I’m appealing your case and I need your side of the story.”

She looked at him completely aghast. “You can’t, Harm,” was her gut level response that melted the rank barrier. If she knew nothing else about this horrible chain of events, she knew her trial had nearly been a farce in its effort to keep the incident out of the press. Harm was committing career suicide by trying to re-open it.

“You’re not in a position to make that decision, Mackenzie,” he bluffed, knowing she could refuse his help if she chose.

“What if I don’t want an appeal?” she countered stubbornly. She couldn’t do this to Harm’s future in the Navy.

Harm played with his pen for a minute studying her, assessing how to engineer the balance of pushing her in the right direction.

“We can do this the easy way and make the SecNav happy, keep it all quiet the way he wants, or I have a couple friends at ZNN who would love to get hold of this story,” Harm upped the ante. “They’d probably even hire you an expensive civilian attorney in return for exclusive rights.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged. “He’ll bury you if you try it,” she warned him, almost fearful that he wasn’t bluffing. Surely, he knew what Sheffield would do to him.

“Probably,” Harm shrugged. “So why don’t you just cooperate and everyone will be happy, that is, all but one person. I’m going to make sure he winds up very unhappy for a very long time,” Harm gave a twisted little smile.

Mac returned a ghost smile of her own. The smallest twinkle of hope played at the back of her eyes. It only appeared for a second, but it reassured him that the real Mac still retained a breath of life. He had to free her before it withered completely. Slumping back in her chair, she indicated her virtual surrender. Harm was a tough opponent when she was at her best, she just didn’t have any fight left in her now.

“Well since you’re going to do this anyway, I guess I’d better help you so you don’t get yourself in more trouble,” she responded acerbically.

In another time, it would have been normal banter for them, it hinted faintly of their long partnership, but the situation was too serious for actual levity. The humor was now dark and sardonic at best.

“Start at the beginning, Marine,” he coached. “Tell me every detail. I have to know what to look for in the evidence, and what I’m up against.”

She tried one last time. “You know Bud had all this and couldn’t find a way.”

“Im not trying to discredit Bud, but unless you actually did what Vukovic claims then there’s a hole somewhere.” Harms logic was unassailable. “I will find it, Mac.”

Nodding, she took a deep breath and began the tale, not leaving out a single detail. It was etched in her memory, something she would never forget. She had to stop from time to time when her gut tied in knots. Somehow, Harm’s gentle, rock solid faith made it easier for her to retell the story. He believed in her, and he made her believe there was a way. For the first time in months, she had a glimmer of hope once again.

Half an hour later

“At 0759 the next morning there was a knock on my door,” she continued her recitation. “It was a Gunnery Sergeant from the security detail.”

“The general wants to see you immediately, ma’am,” he told her.

“Thank you, Gunny. I’m on my way,” she started to close the door.

“No ma’am,” he blocked it. “I’m to escort you,” he informed her.

“I can find…” she started, then something his eyes stopped her. “Is this official, Gunny?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry. I need to escort you to General Cresswell immediately.”

She just nodded and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her, then turned to walk with the stalwart Marine. There was no sense asking him if there was a charge, or what it was. If he knew, he wouldn’t discuss it. Something was very wrong. Her heart was sinking quickly in her breast.

Three short minutes later, she stood at attention before her commanding officer.

“At ease, Colonel. Do you know why I had you brought here?” he barely looked at her.

“No sir,” she answered, not certain even now if her fears were well founded. It must be some kind of mistake.

“I have to officially inform you that formal charges have been filed against you, Colonel,” the general informed her stiffly.

“For what, sir? By who?” she asked with more emotion than she should have demonstrated. She noted that the general had not asked her to be seated. This was serious.

“Lt Vukovic…” he started.

“Vukovic, but sir…?” came unbidden from her mouth.

“I said at ease, Colonel, not permission to speak,” he reminded her.

“Yes, sir, sorry, sir,” she regained what was left of her composure.

“Lt Vukovic has filed a formal complaint. It accuses you of the following charges:

Article 120 Rape or carnal knowledge

Article 128 Assault consummated by battery

Article 133 Conduct unbecoming and officer

Article 134 Indecent assault

Article 134-4 Issuing a threat to insure compliance

Article 80 Attempt to commit an indecent assault

Article 93 Cruelty and maltreatment in the nature of sexual harassment

“Do you have an answer for these charges, Colonel?” He eyed her like a hawk.

Flabbergasted she was speechless for a full moment. Someone was throwing the book at her. “That’s…that’s ludicrous, sir.”

“Colorful, but not very informative, Colonel,” his voice was hard. He wasn’t certain what was going on here. He didn’t like not knowing, and he didn’t like it happening on his watch.

“Sir, this is bizarre. That’s not how it happened,” she protested.

“So you admit something happened, Colonel?”

“Yes, sir. No, sir. I mean I went to the lieutenant’s room to retrieve the files. He…well… he basically attacked me. I fought him off and returned to my room,” Mac explained. It sounded lame at this point even to her.

“Interesting, Colonel, but the lieutenant’s story is much more involved, and he has a witness.”

“A witness, sir?” she responded dully.

“A Lieutenant Graves. I believe you all spent the day together at the beach…in bikinis,” the general’s inflection was clear that he didn’t consider this the best behavior for a senior officer.

“He got her to lie for him? General Cresswell, I assure you this can be explained. I went to the beach alone. I met Lt Graves there not knowing who she was. Then Greg…Lt Vukovic showed up. He was hitting on her and they both finally left.”

“How did you feel about that, Colonel?”

“What?” Mac’s head was spinning now. “You don’t mean …?”

“Yes. I mean how did you personally feel about him asking her for a date.”

“I though she was out of her league, sir. She didn’t stand a chance of handling him.”

“So you didn’t take it personally? You weren’t jealous?” he asked with distaste.

“Of course not, sir,” Mac was aghast at the implication.

“Why didn’t you warn her, Colonel? If you thought he was that predatory,” Cresswell reasoned.

“Because the lieutenant had already made it appear as though there was something between us. I didn’t want that idea escalated,” the more she spoke the worse this sounded.

The general nodded. “You could have left the beach, gone back to your room, if you were uncomfortable. Or you could have come to me if he was that objectionable.”

“Yes, sir, but I…I thought I could handle it. I didn’t want to enhance any misconceptions. I tried to treat it as just an awkward social occasion with co-workers. I hoped it would blow over, sir.”

“Well, Colonel, instead something blew up.” He pointed out coldly. He was angry now. That two of his officers would create such a fiasco had him livid. He didn’t know what had happened, but he would get to the bottom of this.

“I’m sorry, Colonel, but I’m afraid you’ll be confined to quarters until NCIS completes their investigation. For now, you can’t return to your room so you’ll stay here in my temporary office under guard. They will come here when they’re through, then they’ll want to interview you. Until all the evidence is gathered the lieutenant’s movements will be similarly limited.”

“Yes, sir.” She accepted the order. She knew how this worked and she would cooperate fully. There was no way she could believe they would find anything substantial in this farce.

She finished her tale to Harm by remarking. “Several hours later they came and interviewed me. They took me to another room for a complete examination, took photos, all the usual evidence collections, then I was returned to my room under guard. The next day I was taken to North Island and housed there. Two days later, I was formally charged and transported back here. They confined me at the Washington Naval Yard until the trial. Apparently, I was considered a flight risk. I was amazed it all happened in less than a week. They gave the investigation a top priority. It wasn’t until the trial that I discovered Sheffield had put a lid on everything.

“Bud said you wouldn’t let him call me, even refused the general’s offer to have me return. Why was that, Mac?” Harm had to have this answer. It was personal, but no matter how they had struggled to keep their relationship professional over the years, everything about them had always had a personal element.

She studied her hands for several minutes. “The SecNav wanted this kept quiet. He didn’t want another scandal hitting the press. If anything got out it would hurt your career further to be involved. You’d been given a special assignment, rumored to enhance your chances of promotion. Even if it never hit the press, Sheffield would have been very unhappy with you. I….” she looked out the tiny window batting back the tears with her lashes. “I’ve done enough damage to your career, Harm. I couldn’t let you get involved.”

“Shouldn’t that have been my choice, Mac? There’s a huge difference between the SecNav being unhappy with me and you being in prison for something you didn’t do,” he commented, impatience with her interpretation ripe in his demeanor.

“No,” she looked straight at him. “You always want to set things right, Harm, and it always gets noticed. I knew if I…if I was…if there was enough evidence…no matter how wrong…if they convicted me you’d do something dramatic. And if there wasn’t, Bud could handle it.”

“So you wound up in jail to save my career. Unacceptable, Mackenzie,” he told her more harshly than he would have wanted.

“Not exactly, I wound up in jail because I handled an out of control subordinate incorrectly. A point you had so astutely made before leaving. How the evidence showed what it did I still don’t understand, but by then there was nothing I could do.”

“Well I can do something, and I’m going to do it, Mac,” he stated, gathering his notes.

“You shouldn’t, Harm, it’s not worth the risk. You can’t change anything now,” she pleaded with him.

“I can, and I will. Did you do it, Mac?” he asked directly. “Was that whole story a fabrication?”

“No,” she looked him straight in the eye. Then her gaze fell down and away as despair returned. “No, it was the truth,” she assured him bleakly.

“Then you don’t belong here and I’m going to see to it you get out. Not only that, but you’ll have your rank restored, and someone is going to pay for this,” he threatened.

“Harm, be careful,” she said simply.

“I will. It won’t be long, Mac. I promise,” he stood, dismissing her. His heart broke a little more as he signaled for the guard to take her back.

End of four

The Setup
Part Five



NCIS HQ
September 2, 2005
1135 hours


Harm reached for the front door handle remembering the phone call he’d received just half an hour ago.

Picking it up on the first ring, he’d answered, “Rabb.”

“Good morning, ‘O’ tall dark and handsome one.” It was the voice of Abby Scuito, the quirky NCIS forensic specialist.

“Abby,” he’d chuckled shaking his head. Once he and Gibbs had finished circling each other like suspicious dogs on his initial visit to ask for Abby’s help, she had accepted him immediately as one of her inner circle. He quickly learned not to expect any type of protocol from her. In Abby’s mind, giving someone a pet name was the highest form of respect.

His voice had then turned more serious. “Did you get anything?” He cut to the heart of the matter.

“Of course I did,” she’d bragged endearingly. “You don’t think I’d let the Navy’s poster boy down, do you? I couldn’t live with myself if I disappointed you. To think of those beautiful, sea green eyes burdened with sadness,” she continued dramatically.

“Abbbyyy,” he’d interrupted her, sounding much the same as Gibbs when he had to redirect her attention. His smile at her antics broke through his anxiety, but it didn’t alleviate his underlying fears.

“Right, Commander,” she had responded quickly, but used his title with that lilt that said it didn’t impress her. Focused again, she continued, “I think I’ve found several things that are going to surprise you. Is there any way anyone could have tampered with the evidence?”

“What?” Rabb had come right up out of his chair. “Not that I’m aware of, but what do you have?”

“Well, to start with, the close-up photo of the marks on the ‘ahem’ victim’s arms are backwards.” She’d stressed the word ‘victim’ in a way that indicated she wasn’t at all certain it was accurate.

“What do you mean backwards?” Harm questioned darkly.

“Just that. Someone has turned the photos offered into evidence. The tight close-ups, at least, are turned around backwards in their protective sleeves. You can see a little scrape mark where the sticky labels that are applied to describe the evidence have been peeled off and reapplied in a different direction. This must have happened very soon after they were prepared. It makes it appear that the wounds happened from behind instead from in front. The DNA shows the Colonel grabbed his arms, but the photos displayed properly show that she grabbed him from in front, not from behind.”

“Son of a bitch,” Harm exploded. “I’ll be right over,” he was up and moving for his cover before she could answer.

“That might be better, then I can show you all this stuff. It will be easier to show you than explain over the phone.”

“I’ll be there as fast as traffic will allow,” he’d assured her.

“I’ll be waiting,” she’d promised.


Walking into the building, he took the elevator directly to the basement where the lab was located. He paused in the doorway as the shockwave from her sound system made his hair stand on end. Dressed in her normal assortment of eclectic clothing covered by a lab coat, she half-danced at her workstation, completely absorbed in whatever she was doing.

The force of Harm’s presence wasn’t something a person could easily ignored for long, though. Suddenly she straightened and hit the mute switch on the sound system.

“Sorry,” she apologized with an impish grin that begged the depth of her contrition. “I work better that way.”

“Anything that works,” he smiled his killer smile at her. He didn’t care how she ordered her workspace as long as she got results, and to his personal knowledge this would be the second time she had come up with results that counted.

“Let’s start here, Commander,” she picked up some photos.

“Call me Harm,” he offered.

When she glanced up, she saw his flyboy smile firmly in place and directed at her. It almost took her breath away, but she recovered quickly, remembering the scuttlebutt about his personal interest in the colonel’s case. Oh well, she though no harm in looking, she’d just have to keep her head.

“Okay….Harm,” she repeated, slowly playing with the name, offering her own dazzling smile.

“Look here, Harm,” she quickly returned their attention to the photos used in evidence. “The new photos I’ve just printed of Lieutenant Vukovic’s upper arms show identifying muscle structure that wasn’t apparent in the photos that we’re tampered with. And these new enlargements of the overall shot from the original files that I printed just a little tighter than those offered in evidence, demonstrate the discrepancy.”

“The photos as originally presented in court would indicate that the Lieutenant had been attacked from behind when he was kneed in the groin, as he apparently testified.” She looked up for clarity and he nodded for her to continue. “The actual photographic evidence when displayed properly makes it clear he was grabbed in a face-to-face confrontation. In itself, it proves nothing more than an altercation occurred, but coupled with his testimony about how it occurred, well, you can see the inference, Commander,” she concluded.

Harm could see it all right. Vukovic had lied, and that lie was costing Mac her freedom. It raised all the fighting hackles on Harm’s back.

The suggestion that Mac had struck him from behind had made it an aggressive, angry, move. If she’d struck him from in front, it could well have been in defense. It made a great deal of difference to the interpretation.

He nodded, forcing himself to remain calm. “How could this happen?”

“That, my handsome friend, is your territory. All I know is that label couldn’t have been removed and replaced more than, max, maybe forty-five minutes after it was applied. If the lab prepared those photos then had them hand carried directly to the prosecutor, whoever received them would be about the only one who could have tampered with them.”

“Do you know when they were prepared? It might narrow things down,” he frowned.

She pointed to the label that marked the envelope containing the photos. “If this is correct,” she indicated a time stamp and initials, “they were printed and prepared at 1600 hours and received by the prosecutor at 1625 hours the day the charges were filed. The rest of the evidence, the physical evidence, and DNA wouldn’t have been ready for a day or two more, but the photos were sent out quickly. According to the report, the utmost urgency was placed on the case.”

“Utmost urgency, huh?” he remarked. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”

“We follow orders just like you, Commander.”

Harm heard the voice of the man he owed both his greatest career disaster and the greatest save to.

“Gibbs,” Harm looked up and cautiously greeted the Lead Special Agent on the team.

“Rabb,” was the cryptic return. “Show us both what you have, Abbs, I want to know if this was a Navy screw up, or if I need to kick the investigation upstairs.

“Yes, sir,” she replied in a way that always made Gibbs roll his eyes. She knew he hated being called ‘sir’.

Harm just smiled sadly, remembering a time when JAG HQ had operated with the same efficient camaraderie.

She showed them both the photos that she had been exhibiting for Harm when her boss had entered. Placed between the two tall handsome men she noticed from the corner of her eye that McGee was hovering near the door. He wasn’t involved in this case due to the Sec Nav’s stamp of secrecy, and it was killing him not to be able to enter the room. Clearly, he felt threatened. That worked just fine for Abby, and she returned her full attention to the task at hand, pulling another photo from the stack.

“Furthermore, if you look at these,” she held up photos of the bruising on Lt Vukovic’s pubic area, “You can see from the bruising pattern that the attack would be very difficult, if not impossible to occur from behind.”

Harm fumed silently as she continued.

“Not only that,” she continued her explanation, “The scratch on the colonel’s left breast was made by someone pulling out of a grasp, not by the victim pushing her away. If you look closely, you can see how the mark begins at the base of the breast near the body and becomes lighter as it moves outwards. It’s what you’d expect to see if she was grabbed and then she pulled away from her assailant, not what would happen if someone pushed her away from him. Small bits of skin scrapings were found beneath the lieutenant’s right middle fingernail”

She demonstrated what she meant by placing her hand on Harm’s chest and instructing him to pull away from her. It was quite clear that Mac had either, pushed Vukovic away when he tried to hold her, or that she had pulled away from him. Not the other way around.

“That bastard! Then he lied about how that happened, too” Harm exclaimed. To Gibbs and Abby, Harm’s uncharacteristic outburst demonstrated the depth of his personal investment. These facts verified by photographic evidence and the false statements in court, made self-defense a highly plausible possibility, and a much more likely interpretation than a deliberate attack.

“I haven’t read the transcript, Harm, I only know the little you told me it said, but if he claims he pushed her away and she attacked him from behind the evidence doesn’t bear that out.”

“How is it no one caught this before?” Harm questioned.

“Don’t know,” she answered. “The overall shot of his upper arms was taken from a little farther away than usual, and unless you blew that photo up and compared them side by side you wouldn’t see that a switch was made. The other two are levels of interpretation. What did the original investigating NCIS agent say?”

“He didn’t,” Harm remarked dourly. “At least not at the trial. Apparently your team gathered and processed the evidence, but the investigation was left to the JAG office. The original agent wasn’t available for the trial. The man they sent was only able to testify to the fact that those were indeed photos that were taken at the time of the incident, and they bore out the fact that there had been a struggle. He actually identified them solely based on the NCIS stamp and the identifying initials affixed to them. Seems your people were embroiled in a triple-homicide/possible-suicide at the time, and the agent they sent to testify was the new guy. The report entered into evidence only quoted the marks as showing signs of a struggle possibly verifying the lieutenant’s claim that he was attacked. It didn’t give any other interpretation. The prosecutions interpretation came from the testimony of Lt. Vukovic.” His face had settled into hard lines that barely allowed his jaw to move when he spoke.

“Was there anything else, Abby?” Gibbs turned to his scientist.

Harm too, was hopeful, but this would get him a lot. It just occurred to him that given Mac’s problems with Vukovic from the beginning he should look at both the transcript of the trial and the transcript of the original interview during the investigation. Something was brewing in his mind.

“Just that the only body fluids I could find from the colonel were contained inside her clothing. There were traces of the lieutenant’s body fluid on the outside of her bathing suit, but nothing from her on the towel he had wrapped around him. His own fluids were on both sides of the towel. Nothing from him was transferred to the inside of her clothing. It could mean there was no intimate contact on that level, or they both were completely unclothed. The common conclusion though is if contact had occurred, there would have been traces inside their clothing when they dressed afterwards.”

“Unfortunately,” she continued, “before the investigation began almost eighteen hours had elapsed. They had both bathed and little of use was found on either of their bodies. A rape kit was performed on both of them and there wasn’t so much as a hair found on either person that wasn’t their own. The internal kit performed on the colonel was clean as well, and free of any bruising, so no forced penetration occurred. There was one chest hair from the ‘victim’ found inside her bikini top.”

She rattled off the otherwise embarrassing facts as though she was discussing a ballistic report. It made it somewhat easier for Harm to hear it so clinically presented, although he knew that by the time he got off work tonight his imagination would be working overtime and he would be seething. For now, this was too important to allow his emotions to get in the way.

“I did find another thing though, there was a tiny spot of blood and skin under the clasp on the front of the colonel’s bikini top. It matched the lieutenants DNA and there’s a photo showing a scrape on his right index finger. I don’t know if you’re familiar…” she hesitated for just a breath here. Her cheeks colored slightly at making a personal reference, then she blew a breath that scattered her bangs and continued. “A bra clasp is often wrapped with self fabric, especially on a bikini top. It makes it a prettier garment.”

“I’m aware,” he smiled slightly trying to keep this impersonal.

“Okay,” she continued on firmer ground. “This top has an oversized metal hook that fastens in the front. The fabric had been forced sideways and the inside edge of the metal clasp was exposed. There was a rough spot that would normally be covered, and apparently, the lieutenant scraped his finger on it. She demonstrated the overt twisting motion with the garment in question “You can see just how much pressure it takes to pull that part out.”

Harm whistled his appreciation. “So he had to have had his hand on that clasp, deliberately pulling on it, to expose it that way. I think we have a prosecutor who may be in trouble here,” he mused at the preponderance of altered evidence. The possibility that it was more than just the prosecutor was strong, he wondered if there was any way Vukovic could have had access to the evidence. It sounded like his entire testimony had been scripted to what could be proven by careful presentation or misrepresentation of the evidence.

“If you look at this evidence list, the wide angle photo’s of the lieutenant’s arms, and DNA report from the bra clasp were sent to the prosecutor, however it wasn’t included in the trial evidence I received. When I discovered that first set of photos were altered I called the investigating office and had copies of everything sent directly to me, then I double checked everything.”

“You mean they had disappeared?” Harm was incredulous. He’d had the evidence from the trial sent directly to Abby to keep the chain of custody clean. He couldn’t imagine a JAG prosecutor actually destroying evidence. One may choose not to use something to make his case, but he still had to turn it over to the defense. If Bud had seen this information, he surely would have known what to do with it to cast doubt on the case.

“I can’t say where it went; only that it wasn’t with the stored evidence. Apparently it wasn’t presented at the trial by either side,” she answered. She held up two lists side by side. “This is the list that was stored with the trial evidence, and this is the copy I just showed you that came from San Diego NCIS. You can see they don’t match on those two significant items. This list from the evidence box appears to be an altered photocopy. Compare it to this list from San Diego, see how those two items were erased or whited-out, then a new copy was made.”

Harms mind whirled with the possibilities. Culpability would rest with the prosecutor. Even if he hadn’t actually changed or destroyed the evidence, he’d allowed it to happen while it was in his possession.

“There’s one other thing, Harm,” she brought his attention back to the present. This had been enough, but the tone of her voice made him take notice. “There’s a partial fingerprint on one of the photos that was turned around, another inside the plastic envelope and a third in the glue on the back of the label. They don’t match anyone in the NCIS database, two of them are identical.”

“Uh oh,” Harm understood immediately. “And you need someone’s permission to run the prints through the military database.”

“I need more than that. I can’t go fishing in the military database. I need a name or names, starting with the prosecutor who received the evidence and anyone else who may have handled it, and I need an order from someone to make the comparison.”

“You’ll get it, Abby. Just hold on to everything,” he instructed, his voice shaking slightly with personal emotion. He knew for all her odd personality that she was the consummate professional where her job was concerned.

“No problem, Commander,” Abby agreed.

Harm was furious, and he turned away for a moment to regain his self-control. He stood rubbing the back of his neck, a distracted gesture, not deliberate, just something to physically hold himself in check while he paged mentally through his options..

Someone’s head was going to roll, and if the SecNav wanted to catch and bury it before it became public that was up to him. But the way Harm saw it, Mac was as good as free. Now to make that freedom a reality. The only stumbling blocks were who had tampered with the evidence, and how, and the direct testimony of Lieutenant Cathy Graves. The first was a puzzle that was falling together rapidly, and Harm had an idea that another interview with Lt Graves would give him a better perspective on what she’d actually seen.

“I think I have a lot of work to do,” Harm remarked grimly, turning back to the NCIS team.

“Are you making this an official investigation, Commander?” Gibbs asked. The special agent’s eyes wondered if this JAG he had so wronged was going for the throat of someone in his department. He hated having fingers pointed at NCIS, but if they had screwed up, he wanted to deal with it. If it wasn’t them, he wanted to get whoever was making them look bad.

“Not yet, Gibbs.” Harm met his gaze and read his mind. “We’re still under orders to do this quietly, remember. I need to take what Abby has found to the general. I’m sure he has some hard questions for the prosecutor in the case. After that, we’ll sort out how to proceed. We should have a name for you by late this afternoon. Off the record, I don’t believe that other than an absence caused by overwork and having this dumped on them as a rush job that any of your agents are at fault here. I suspect we’ll find that the evidence was manipulated after it left your office,” he finished.

Gibbs eyes flickered for a brief second, the only sign that he felt any relief. He would butt heads with the commander again if necessary, but he’d make a better ally than an enemy in the long run. He was glad to see that this time confrontation might not be necessary.

“Gibbs,” Harm held out his hand. “I appreciate your offer of help. Believe me, if it goes that far you’ll be the first to know.”

Jethro Gibbs took the commander’s hand and replied, “You know where to find me, Rabb.” Then he turned to Abby. “How long on the evidence from that scene last night, Abbs?”

Turning to a bank of monitors, she inspected the running programs. “Shouldn’t be more than half an hour, Gibbs,” was her eternally perky answer.

“Make it twenty minutes,” he ordered, as he turned and left the room.

She just shook her head and rolled her eyes. “That’s me, in charge of miracles,” she muttered good-naturedly.

Harm smiled again at the exchange, then turned to Abby with a troubled look. “I don’t know what I’m going to find, but I have some suspicions,” he told her. “When I present this to the general, we’ll see how he wants it to be handled. But I’m betting you’ll have permission to run those prints in a few hours.”

“Of course,” she responded with her trademark enthusiasm, then finished on a more serious note. “Commander, I can’t get officially involved on a personal level, or have any opinion, you know that don’t you?”

“Yes I do, Abby, and I appreciate that,” Harm replied glancing in the direction of her retreating boss over her shoulder. He wondered where she was going with this.

“Okay, good, but can I say it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you discovered the colonel wasn’t guilty,” she admitted.

“I think you’ve just given me most of what I need to prove that, Abby,” he answered with a warm smile and gratitude in his voice.

She nodded solemnly. Harm knew she’d scoured that evidence for everything there. She would have left no stone unturned to find every scrap, but once she discovered the mistakes, it wasn’t a huge leap to calculate the miscarriage of justice that had occurred.

“Thanks, Abby, I appreciate your attention to this. It sounds like I’m going to be taking this whole case apart and putting it back together. Like you, I suspect it wasn’t put together with all the pieces the first time,” he confided.


End of five

The Setup
Part Six



JAG HQ
Sept 2, 2005
One hour later

“I take from your urgency in asking for this interview you have something for me, Commander,” General Cresswell greeted his determined officer.

“Yes, sir,” Harm replied grimly.

The general considered his countenance for a brief moment then let out a deep breath. Whatever it was would have two very sharp edges, of that he was certain. “Let’s have it.”

In less than fifteen minutes, Harm had laid the fractured trail of photographic and forensic evidence before his Commanding Officer.

“Jeezz, what a…” the general blew in frustration. “There’s only one good Marine expression to describe this mess, Commander.”

“Yes, sir,” Harm agreed, the same comment had crossed his mind.

“Here, sir,” Harm continued, pointing to the transcripts, “in the initial interview with NCIS, Vukovic stated it was a single isolated incident, but didn’t describe the attack as from behind. It wasn’t until later, right here, when he was being interviewed by the prosecutor, that he claimed it was a repeat of previous abuse ‘and’ that the attack came from behind when he turned her down. That interview is time stamped and dated within minutes of the photos being received at the San Diego JAG office.”

“And you think the lieutenant was the one who tampered with them?” the general asked.

“It was either he or the prosecutor, sir. No one else would have had a reason to or been present within the window of opportunity. Only Lieutenant Commander Powell can answer that question. Sir, both of those statements were taken under oath, and neither matches the trial testimony. It means that…”

“I know what it means, Commander,” the general barked. “At least one of my officers has perjured himself for personal gain, and another is either in collusion, or just stupid and careless.”

“What about Roberts, is he negligent too?” the general continued with a hard look, waiting impatiently for Harm’s opinion. He was almost ready to hang everyone involved.

“I don’t believe so, sir,” Harm allowed. “There’s one place in Lt Graves statement to NCIS where she indicated that Lieutenant Vukovic had told her this was a repeated pattern of abuse, but at the trial Bud said the prosecution requested her testimony be stricken as not asked for when she included it in an answer to one of his questions. Bud didn’t ask her about it on cross because he rightly assessed it as hearsay.”

“Later Bud asked Vukovic on cross if he had ever claimed there was more than one incident, but the prosecution objected to that as not covered on direct examination and that the charge only included one incident. He couldn’t take the chance of calling more attention to the possibility of other incidents by trying to insist on an answer.”

“He was torn between trying to catch him in a lie, and having that lie do Mac more harm. Nor could he call either witness as his own, their testimony was already too damaging. He put the Colonel on the stand, but her testimony didn’t match the evidence as presented, so in the end the members didn’t believe her.”

“Of the photos that would have given him the correct direction for his defense, some were tampered with before he ever saw them, and others had gone missing altogether along with valuable forensic evidence.” Harm was frustrated, saddened, and exasperated, as well as damn mad by now, and it showed in his voice.

“What do you want?” the general quietly addressed his tall officer.

“I want Mac out of jail, sir. This isn’t fair. With the evidence we now have it’s clear she should never have been convicted,” he declared with quiet anger, desperately attempting to control his emotions.

“Isn’t that a little broad, Commander?” Cresswell eyed him closely. “We can prove Lt Vukovic lied about how it occurred, and that evidence has been tampered with, but something still happened.”

“Removing the tainted physical evidence, general, at the very worst it comes down to ‘he said,’ ‘she said.’ The only thing you have against the colonel is the testimony of a young inexperienced officer. She thinks she witnessed what might have been personal interaction between two people, and later the same person entering the hotel room of the other in anger. According to Mac she went there to tear him a new one, sir,” Harm smiled his apology for the graphic reference. The general nodded for him to continue. “She said she’d had quite enough of his manipulation. She hadn’t wanted to take him to task on the beach, but she wasn’t going to let him go any further with his insubordination She was going to make him stop or bring him up on charges.”

“In a bikini, Commander?” the general still found this part unpleasant and unprofessional.

“General we’ve all been pushed far enough at one time or another that our attention to smaller details lapses. It was a mistake, but it wasn’t a crime, sir.”

“Granted,” Cresswell agreed. “But if she’d taken him to task in the beginning she wouldn’t have had to wait until she blew her top with him.”

“I understand all that, but giving someone a chance to straighten up and prove themselves isn’t a crime either. Sir, she’s spent nearly six months in jail for something that never happened. She’s lost her rank and her position here at JAG. We can’t ever give that back to her.” Harm’s normally controlled emotions were working into a lather now. His feet longed to pace the office, to seek a physical release for his ire. His fingers twitched with the need to comb through his hair to rub away the frustration.

“Settle down, Commander,” his CO ordered perceptively. “You know with the evidence you have now, you could petition for a mistrial, or even have the verdict reversed and the charges dropped if you wanted,” the general suggested.

“I know, General, but if I know Mac, she’s going to want her appeal. She’ll want her name cleared of the conviction by a verdict of not guilty. The problem is if I take time to consult with her then ask for an appeal hearing it will take weeks or more. She shouldn’t stay in prison until this is settled, she’s been there long enough,” Harm pled eloquently for his friend’s freedom

The general looked away for a minute then hit a few keys and consulted a log on his computer. “There’s a free spot on the court docket at 1600. You can present your case to the judge. See if you can have her released to her quarters pending an appeal until you have time to request a new trial, Commander.”

“Who’s the judge, sir?” Harm asked.

“Blakely. He was the original trial judge. Is that a problem?”

“No, sir, Blakely is very fair. He’ll listen and judge on the merits,” Harm assured his CO

“Fine, let’s get her released then we’ll schedule that appeal hearing. You’ll probably have to request guest quarters for her at Belvoir temporarily. I don’t know what happened to her personal belongings.”

“Bud and Harriet closed her apartment and stored her personal things, sir. I believe she had them sell her car and furniture,” Harm replied sadly. “If...if she would be more comfortable, sir, would a hotel room be permitted? She may not feel comfortable staying on a base right now.”

“I don’t see her as a flight risk. If the judge agrees, she can stay wherever she’s comfortable. But she’s your responsibility, Rabb,” he warned. “Now go get your ducks in a row. Blakely isn’t going to be easy,” he commented. “You need to have your game together.”

“Yes, sir. Understood, sir,” Harm accepted the terms. Taking it as a dismissal, he stood to leave.

“Oh, and Commander, I want NCIS to run Lt. Commander Powell’s and Lieutenant Vukovic’s fingerprints against the unknown ones. I don’t know how he could have done it, but I’m damn sure going to find out.” Dismissing the officer with a wave, he turned to his speakerphone and ordered, “Coates, get Lt. Commander Powell on the line. I want to speak with him ASAP.”

“Yes, sir,” Harm heard the enthusiasm in Jen’s voice as she responded to the order. Lt Commander Powell had prosecuted Mac. He was stationed in San Diego where Vukovic was now reassigned.

“One more thing, Commander,” the general stopped him. “What about Lieutenant Graves?”

“I’ll have to re-interview her, sir, but there are places in her testimony that are subject to broad enough interpretation. I think a firm cross examination will open up a lot of possibilities. I worked with her in China Lake. She’s a good kid, seems honest, but she’s easily led, inexperienced. She fancies herself an investigator. I think we’ll find that what she said was more based on impressions formed after her date with Vukovic than anything she actually saw.

“Fine, Commander, call her in and talk to her. She’s stationed at the Pentagon. She wants to come here to HQ, but I don’t have an opening yet.” He cocked a harsh eye at Harm. “I want the absolute truth out of her. When you call her in, you talk to her with Roberts. From this moment he’s officially your co-counsel on this. We have to make certain there’s no appearance of command influence in this, Rabb,” he warned.

“Yes, sir, I agree.”

“Good, now you just about have enough time to have Colonel Mackenzie brought up from Quantico before the hearing,” he suggested, provisionally giving Mac her title back. “Dismissed.”

General Cresswell went back to the papers on his desk with a sour look on his face and a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t like what Rabb had found, and he wasn’t going to like what he suspected was left to find, but he’d had a bad feeling about this case from the start. Secretary Sheffield had been so damn frantic about keeping a lid on it. God he hated politics, and politicians were even worse.

He picked up the phone when it rang, “Cresswell,” he answered.

“Lt. Commander Powell here, sir. I understand you wanted to talk to me.” He could hear the trepidation in the young officer’s voice. Well, he thought, no more so than what would be in his own when he had to call Sheffield later.

“It’s about the Mackenzie case, Powell,” the general got right to the point.

“Yes sir,” he responded. He’d never really been comfortable with that one, and he didn’t know why.

“You received some photos from NCIS the day after the charges were formalized,” Cresswell suggested.

“Yes sir,” Powell answered, again more nervous than before.

“Did anyone else besides you have access to those photos, or any of the other evidence, Commander?” The general went to the heart of the matter.

“No…uh…oh…as a…uh…matter of fact…uh…why, sir?” the suddenly very nervous senior attorney from NAS North Island stumbled.

“Just answer the question, Powell.” The general demanded knowing now what he would hear.

“Yes sir,” he deflated in fear. “Someone else handled the photos.”

“Who, Powell?” Cresswell knew he was going to hate the answer. He couldn’t believe the Sec Nav had chosen this mouse of an officer to try the colonel’s case.

“Lt. Vukovic, sir,” the lieutenant commander’s voice almost squeaked in fear. “Sir, he’s a brilliant, aggressive attorney, he showed me the best way to present the evidence to get a conviction.”




Jag HQ
Wednesday
September 21, 2005
1000 hours

The general had requested her presence in his office at 1000 hours sharp the day following her appeal hearing. It was the purest form of torture walking through the bullpen, and she realized in that moment she could never work here again. She’d garnered sympathetic looks from a few, hostile looks from others. The rest just ignored her.

She’d made a deliberate point of not telling Harm of this meeting. If there was a God, Harm would be otherwise occupied when she arrived. She didn’t want him associated with her any more closely than necessary. She owed him her life and her career for what he’d done to get her conviction overturned. More so, for the fact that he’d managed to nail Vukovic’s ass to the wall in the process.

A slight smile played at her lips when she remembered the look on Vukovic’s face as Harm questioned him about the tampered evidence, his conflicting statements, then caught him in lie after lie on the witness stand as he tried to cover his actions. She’d almost felt vindicated as the judge ordered him arrested and led from the courtroom in handcuffs. Almost.

Her hearing made four separate instances of Vukovic perjuring himself under oath. Added to bringing false criminal charges, suborning perjury from Lt. Graves, and tampering with evidence, not to mention his assault on her, the lieutenant would not see daylight for quite a while once Harm was finished with him. Lt Commander Powell had pled out his negligence and had taken a dishonorable discharge.

The most amazing thing was watching Harm cross examine Lt. Cathy Graves. He was gentle in the extreme in his approach. Asking her to think about what she actually saw and allowing her to find her own conclusions to what had actually happened, as opposed to the ideas that had been planted in her mind. It was masterful, and it was also apparent that Harm had risked a lot by not interviewing her before the trial. He was so confident of Mac’s story and her integrity that he allowed Cathy Graves to find her own truths before the court. It was a powerful display, the impact of which would have been lessened by pretrial interviews. Nevertheless, she now needed to distance herself from Harm if he was to continue successfully in the Navy.

Sheffield was pissed, and would stay that way for a while, but in the two years since his appointment, he’d managed to learn that some things were worth overlooking. Additionally, he wasn’t a complete fool. He knew the importance of righting an injustice. He’d like it less if in time his record showed that he’d allowed such a thing to go uncorrected.

Jennifer Coates opened the general’s door for Mac when she arrived. Her eyes were unreadable. She too, had misread and misjudged Greg Vukovic. Mac couldn’t quite tell what she was feeling, but if she had any sense, it would be relief that she’d not allowed the coffee room flirtations to go further.

Mac didn’t think Jennifer was ever in serious danger anyway. Greg wanted to remove someone who was in his way. Jen would have made a valuable ally among the lower ranks. His flirting was just an attempt to get her in his camp. It made Mac wonder if the opportunity hadn’t occurred in San Diego whether he would have somehow tried to use PO Coates in his little scheme at a later date.

Thanking her with a look of speculation, Mac walked to the proper spot before the general’s desk and presented herself.

“Lt Colonel Mackenzie reporting as ordered, sir.”

Looking up from his desk he nodded, “Take a seat, Colonel.”

His eyes followed her, and she felt his appraisal as he wondered what to do with her now.

The discomfort of his gaze was overwhelming, but she held herself straight and still, waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry I allowed this to happen, Colonel. I don’t think you deserved any of this,” were the words that shocked her.

“Sir, I assure you it’s not….”

“Colonel, a general seldom apologizes. When one considers it necessary, it’s a good idea to accept it without argument,” he cautioned.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I just want you to know I don’t blame you in any way,” she tried to explain.

“So you don’t think if I’d paid more attention I would have been able to find what Rabb found?” He wondered if she would continue to talk herself into a hole.

“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. That is, Commander Rabb had certain knowledge that no one else possessed, General. Without it no one could have found what he found.”

“You mean the fact that Vukovic had been insubordinate for some time and you failed to report it to me? Or the fact that the lieutenant had a habit of embellishing facts? That he wasn’t above tampering with evidence? Or maybe it was Rabb’s ingrained distrust of NCIS? Which of those facts would I have needed, Colonel?” He accepted she had been acquitted. What he didn’t accept was that she’d done virtually nothing to help her own case when it occurred. Once accused and detained, she had refused to discuss this with anyone. He even doubted her own attorney had seen the entire picture.

“None of it, sir, or all of it, and more,” she deflated. She hadn’t come here to criticize him. She just wanted to go back to work, keep her head down, and hope someday she could retire in peace somewhere.

“Perhaps most of all, the Commander’s unswerving faith in you, Colonel?” he asked.

“Perhaps. He tends to rescue people he cares about. Sir, if this has damaged Harm’s career I would have rather stayed in jail,” she revealed candidly. The look in her eyes, the set of her shoulders, told the general all he needed to know about the truth of that statement.

“Very commendable, Colonel, but fortunately it hasn’t. Damaged his career, that is. He did what he promised to do and kept it under wraps. The SecNav is angry that it ever happened, but serving up Lieutenant Vukovic’s head the way Rabb did has assuaged Sheffield’s anger sufficiently,” Cresswell commented wryly. “Sheffield specifically requested Rabb handle Vukovic’s prosecution. I gave the defense to Sturgis. The last I heard they were deadlocked in plea bargain negotiations. Seems Rabb’s being a bit hard headed,” the general smiled ironically.

Mac gave a small answering smile. Yes that was Harm he wouldn’t let this one go easily.


“The fact that Lieutenant Commander Powell is now looking for civilian employment didn’t hurt his feelings either,” Cresswell continued. “Rabb will get his promotion to captain at the senior staff meeting on Monday morning, Colonel. I trust you’ll be there to help do the honors. Rabb requested no ceremony so we’re having the frocking here.”

“Uh…no, sir. I don’t think so, unless that’s an order,” Mac vacillated.

“What do you mean by that, Colonel?” he questioned sharply. “Surely you won’t give up your commission after what he did to save it?” he couldn’t comprehend that kind of ingratitude.

“No, sir! I hope to serve until my retirement. I know this incident has destroyed any hope I may have held for a promotion, but if I can just continue to do a good job for the Marines I’ll be happy.”

She tried to look like she really meant that. There were things that would truly make her happy, but there was no chance they would ever happen now. For one thing, she was swearing off men for good. The bad ones had done more damage than good to her, and the good ones she had damaged. As Harm had so ‘astutely’ pointed out at one time, some of them were even dead due to their association with her.

“Colonel, I can’t give you back your Chief of Staff position. It’s already been reassigned. But I’m sure you could once again shine as a senior attorney. Your courtroom skills are unparalleled by any but Rabb’s,” he commented, hoping to find a way to make her comfortable without being unrealistic.

“I completely understand, sir. The appointment is a good one. Commander Turner is extremely detail oriented and will serve the office well,” she remarked.

“Do you think he would have found the things the commander found, Colonel?” He still wondered how he could have failed her and his office by allowing this miscarriage of justice.

“No sir,” she shook her head. “Sturgis wouldn’t have had the same mindset as Harm. No one could have done this but Harm,” she assured him.

“And Rabb wasn’t here, is that it?”

“Not his fault or yours, sir. He had another assignment. Commander Roberts had faith in me, but not the information that Harm had. It was a big picture thing, and I guess Harm was the only one to have all the facts. Bottom line I didn’t think they could prove the allegations, sir. I just didn’t believe it could happen. I thought Bud…Commander Roberts could handle it, and when he didn’t find what we needed, when we had only my word to refute the evidence, I didn’t want Harm involved.”

“You were so afraid for the damage it would do to the commander’s career that you were willing to sacrifice your own and your freedom, Colonel?” his tone was incredulous.

“Nothing quite so noble, sir, although Harm has done that sort of thing several times. I guess I don’t have that sort of courage. My career was a mess at that point, even if we could have found some way out, there was simply no point in damaging Harm as well,” she finished.

He nodded his head. “So,” he went back to the former topic, “You’ll be reporting for duty tomorrow morning.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“With your permission, sir, I’d rather not.”

“What do you mean?” he looked at her. They still hadn’t straightened this out. They’d been sidetracked off the topic.

“Sir, I’d like a transfer. I need to go somewhere that I’m not always looking around to see who knows about what happened, and wonder what they are thinking. Do they think I was the victim, and I’ll find only pity behind their faces? Do they think I was guilty, and Harm pulled a rabbit out of his hat? Will they wonder what really went on? I can’t work that way, sir. I want to be far enough away that if anyone finds out it won’t be an issue. Someplace where there will be more important issues to deal with than my personal life.

“Are you talking about the Middle East, Colonel?”

“Yes, sir. I think I am. I’d like any assignment you can give me. Someplace where I can just put my head down and work,” she explained, hoping he would understand.

He gave her a hard look, “Best keep your head up over there, Colonel,” he warned. “You aren’t doing anything so dumb as trying to get yourself killed, are you, Mackenzie?” he asked harshly.

“No, sir,” she was adamant. “That’s the farthest thing from my mind. I just want to work, and I want to work hard. I’m good at rules of engagement and international law. It’s an area Harm and I concentrated on often during the nine years I worked with him. I speak the language, and I believe I can serve a purpose there, sir,” she insisted.

“Okay, Colonel, let me look into it and see what I can find. You’re sure you don’t want to be here for Rabb’s ceremony?”

“Actually, I’d love nothing more, sir, but that’s would only be pleasing myself. Harm deserves this and he deserves it to be unblemished by my presence.” She was firm.

“I think you underestimate your importance to him, Colonel,” the general commented perceptively.

“Unfortunately, that importance has done him more harm than good. This is the only way, sir.”

Cresswell nodded, knowing she would stand her ground. “Give me until morning,” he told her. “I’ll have something by then. I promise you’ll be out of here by Saturday, Colonel.”

“Thank you sir,” she rose to her feet.

“Dismissed.”

She turned, but he stopped her at the door.

“Mac,” he spoke again.

She hesitated. “Sir?”

“After you’ve had some time to think, some time working hard as you put it, you might try contacting him. I think you’re wrong.”

“Thank you, sir,” her answer was non-committal as she slipped through the door.

End of six

The Setup
Part Seven

Marriott Residence Inn
Alexandria, VA
Mac’s studio unit
September 23, 2005
2035 hours


She heard the knock on her door and debated with herself whether to answer. She knew it was him. He wouldn’t let her leave town without saying something to her.

Scuttlebutt had it he’d been offered his choice of commands. The one he was expected to take was the coveted job as JAG in Naples. The other one, strangely enough, was a direct request from the office of the CNO to accept a billet as CAG on the carrier Abraham Lincoln. Hostilities in the Middle East had escalated dramatically in the last six months. Between retirements the last few years, and recent unexpected attrition, there weren’t enough ranking officers to promote, and too many new pilots to be trained.

Two severe mishaps had the Navy quickly casting a wide net for promotable command level officers with flying skills. A few had been recalled, but Captain Harmon Rabb was still active. It was always a better solution to use someone who wanted to be there.

Although he’d been told once he’d never have the flying hours to qualify for command on a carrier, his experience, rank, and proven ability to get the job done was now in high demand during wartime operations, giving him the opportunity to fulfill his lifelong dream. There was even a small suspicion among the staff that this might be the Sec Nav’s way of offering a reward for saving his political ass. She’d heard from Jen when she picked up her orders that everyone was betting he would take Naples. Mac knew better.

She’d been avoiding him for days, even refused a final dinner with him. It broke her heart to turn him away like that, but it was for his own good. He was a fast track officer once again, thanks to the SecNav’s favor. She couldn’t ruin it for him. Having someone like her in his life would raise eyebrows, cause doubts. No, she had to let him go.

Another more insistent knock made her sigh deeply. She knew he wouldn’t go away until he talked with her. She might as well get it over with.

Walking reluctantly to the door she opened it, but didn’t move aside.

“Hey,” he greeted her with that sort of breathless voice he used when he wasn’t quite certain of a situation.

“Hi, Harm. What’s up?” she tried for cheery, hoping to disarm him.

“I…uh wanted to…this is awkward, Mac. Can I come in?” he asked.

She didn’t want that. Not that she didn’t trust him; she didn’t trust herself. However they couldn’t discuss whatever he was determined to say in the hallway.”

“Sure, Harm,” she stepped aside and shrugged indifferently.

She felt anything but indifferent, nevertheless, she couldn’t ever let him see her inner desires. Unfortunately, shame for so many things over-washed everything of genuine value. It was easy to hide her true feelings for him under a blanket of feigned apathy.

He walked several steps into the room and turned to face her. “Mac, I don’t want you to go away like this.”

“I have to Harm, I have my orders. It’s a wonderful opportunity. One where I can prove myself again…”

“You have nothing to prove. It was a mistake. Mac, your were…were framed.” He was frustrated with her.

“I’m sorry, Harm. I don’t want to upset you, but it’s the way I feel. There was a smoking gun, and everyone I know will always wonder. I need to go someplace where only my work counts, not my past.”

“I don’t wonder, Mac,” he answered quickly, swallowing hard. “I know you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” She turned away quickly. His faith almost broke through her shell.

“I don’t want you to leave like this. It’s dangerous over there, particularly for a woman.” He could have kicked himself the moment the words were out, but then inserting his foot in his mouth was something he couldn’t help when he talked to her.

“I’ll be fine, Harm,” she bristled, stiffening uneasily and crossing her arms. “I won’t get into any more trouble.”

“Maaac, that’s not what I mean, and I think you know it. You were setup and everyone accepts that now.”

“I doubt that. Neither Sheffield nor Cresswell will ever forget that this sort of thing happened on their watch. Worse still, is the fact the whole thing was fabricated and they fell for it. They are even less likely to forget that if I’d handled it differently it never could have happened at all.”

He took a deep breath. Some of what she said was accurate, painfully so. Sheffield and Cresswell would hold long memories, but keeping the entire thing under deep wraps had helped. Someday, somewhere, something about this whole issue might be leaked to the press, but it would be of such minor impotance by then that it would get little attention.

However, she was right. They wouldn’t quickly forget her lapse of judgment. It was minor overall, but inexcusable by their perception. It would have gone completely unnoticed if she’d had time to find a way to handle it properly, but she wasn’t that lucky, and by association Cresswell now had the SecNav’s disfavor.

Harm wondered briefly why he had come through unscathed. After all, he’d been the one to return to HQ and stir up the hornets nest when everyone thought it safely buried.

“I don’t know, Mac. I just don’t know. Maybe you’re right, but you can’t let it color the rest of your life. You have to fight back,” he urged.

“How, Harm? The best thing I can do is get out of town. If I’m far enough away maybe they will both be able to forget I exist from time to time.” She turned away and walked towards the window.

“Where are you going, Mac? No one will tell me.”

“Someplace where I can be a Marine. The Marines is all I have left. Maybe it was all I ever had, but I do know how to be a Marine, and it’s what I need to go back to. I guess in a way it’s like you returning to flying. I was a Marine first and a lawyer second. You were a pilot first and a lawyer second. You’re going to take the offer of carrier duty, aren’t you?”

“Yes. How did you know, I haven’t told anyone?” He was puzzled.

“It fits you. I guess we’re both going back to the only thing we have.”

“Mac, it’s not all we have,” he stepped closer.

“Harm, please. Don’t,” she backed away.

“Why, Mac? I want to come back to you. I want you to be here when I do, or be somewhere I can find you. I should have told you that the first time I left to fly. I’m telling you now. Please, be here?” he looked into her eyes.

“I can’t. You’ll be flying off a carrier in the Pacific, Harm. I’m going in the opposite direction.”

“I was offered Naples, would you come work in my office if I take it?” he suggested in desperation.

“It wouldn’t work, Harm,” she shook her head, countering with more patience than she felt. She didn’t want to fight and she didn’t want to discuss this any more. “It would be no different than it’s been for the last nine years. Worse if you were my CO.”

“I’ll only be at sea for six months on the carrier. Transfer to Pearl or San…”

“Don’t say it, Harm,” she interrupted abruptly. “I won’t ever go there again.” She’d resign before she would ever set her foot in San Diego. “Maybe…” she knew she shouldn’t say this, but she couldn’t help herself. “Maybe the woman you met in China Lake can be there for you.” Quickly she stepped back and turned away from him.

“China Lake? What the hell are you talking about, Mac? There was no one in China Lake.” Harm was truly puzzled.

“The one you got the check for, the one who was so grateful,” she continued bitterly, not knowing what had gotten into her.

“You mean Megan? I haven’t seen her since…Mac where did you get this?” He took her shoulder and turned her towards him.

“Lt Graves told us…” she started, then stopped cold.

“Lt Graves, Mac?” He cocked an eyebrow at her saying all he needed with that gesture.

She realized in an instant what had happened, what had driven her anger that day. Closing her eyes and holding her breath for a moment, she let it out slowly. “I guess she does tend to exaggerate doesn’t she?” Mac completely deflated.

“You think so, Marine?” he asked gently. “Is this the real reason why you wouldn’t call me?” he took both her arms in his hands, and looked down at her. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Yes, no, maybe. I mean it was mostly because I didn’t want you involved, but…” she trailed off defenseless.

“But you didn’t really think I wanted to be involved either,” he brought the rest of it out.

She shook her head, still not looking at him.

“I’m sorry, Mac. I can imagine what you heard. It didn’t mean anything to me.” He squeezed her shoulders gently to emphasize his point. “No more than…someone sending you flowers for a job well done” he made the comparison

“I know, Harm. I should have realized. I’m sorry too.” She lifted her eyes to tell him how sorry she was for everything that had happened, all the wrong turns they’d taken, and how it had left them with an irretrievable future, but something in his look caught and held her.

For a minute, she hesitated. What she saw there almost penetrated her shields. She swayed slightly towards him, mesmerized by his gaze.

“Mac,” he whispered, the very sound of his voice an invitation she couldn’t accept.

“Harm I…,” she started, intending to refuse, but before the last word was out his lips were on hers, his arms were around her, and she found herself answering his kiss. As the power escalated, her fear and guilt mounted. She couldn’t let this happen, she couldn’t do this to him. Finally, from deep within she drew the strength to push him away. “No, Harm, I can’t. We can’t.”

He looked down at her puzzled, hurt, and something else filling his eyes. The something else won. “Im sorry, Mac. I shouldn’t have taken that liberty. It was wrong. Please, forgive me. I guess I’m no better than Vukovic,” he turned to go. “I…Im sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“No! Harm, wait,” she called him. He’d misunderstood.

He hesitated, but didn’t turn.

“Please!” she took his arm and turned him back. Of all things, she couldn’t let him think that. Even if it would be easier.

“You aren’t like him! You never could be! I…I know where that came from and I understand what it meant. What you want, what you were asking me. Once I dreamed of it and could have wanted it too, but now I just can’t. It wouldn’t work.” She told him rubbing her upper arms with both hands. “Please. Don’t ever think I put you in that same category. I wish it could have been different, Harm, but it never can, not now. Just let me wish you luck with your new command, okay?” She pled silently that he would accept even if he didn’t understand.

“Okay Mac, if this is how you want it. I just wish you’d…” If he could at least get her to leave the door open there was some hope.

“It’s how it has to be, Harm. I’m not exactly certain when I’ll be back. I haven’t received my full orders. I’m not sure where I’ll be stationed. Whatever’s available, I suspect,” she lied.

She knew where she was going. She’d been given her orders that afternoon. By Monday she’d be on a transport to the Middle East where she’d join the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force’s 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit in the Syro-Arabian Desert. She’d be assigned to one of the hundreds of tent cities that dotted the Iraqi landscape as an SJAG advising command on the rules of engagement in remote areas. It was even possible she would find herself on field operations.

She didn’t want to discuss the exact location with him. She knew what he’d say if he found out. He’d think it was a suicide mission. One designed to end all the bad things that had happened to her, but he would be wrong. In this, she had her head firmly planted in reality.

For the last five years every bad thing that had happened to her, perhaps even for her entire life, had all been due to her own poor judgment. She was determined to rectify that. She’d learned early to be a Marine, and it had served to save both of them on numerous occasions. Somehow getting back to that basic discipline was her one hope of restructuring her life.

She needed to reacquaint herself with the vital decision making skills she’d been taught early, both by her uncle and then by her Marine training. That training had been muddied by temptation, and weakened by liberal interpretation. It was time to regain her inner Marine, but it was something she’d have to do alone. From now on, it was going to be just her against what the world threw at her. No more relying on backup, and no more relying on Harmon Rabb to ruin his goals in order to rescue her.

He watched her face in the few seconds it took these thoughts to pass through her mind, trying to read what she was thinking.

“Mac what is it? Where are you going? You know, don’t you?” he asked perceptively.

Steeling herself she flicked her gaze away, then hardened it as she looked him straight in the eyes. For a second time tonight she did something she’d never done before, she lied to him. “No, Harm, I don’t know. I suspect I’ll find out as soon as I land.”

There was nothing more he could do. He couldn’t call her on it. He had no proof. Jen had risked enough telling him of Mac’s transfer, but to ask her to give him information about Mac’s assignment might place her job in jeopardy. No, if Mac wanted him to know she’d tell him, otherwise it was none of his business.

He nodded his head disconsolately. He could manipulate her, play on the weaknesses he realized were still there, coax her to see things his way, but she’d had enough of that treatment in her life. He couldn’t do it to her or he would definitely be just like the others.

“Okay, Mac, be careful,” he accepted. “When you find out let me know, okay? Keep in touch. Maybe…maybe later…maybe in six months…we can talk about this some more. When we get back,” he let the suggestion hang.

“Maybe, Harm, but right now you have a big responsibility to think about. Don’t dwell on me. I’ll be fine, I promise.” She tried a brave smile.

“Mac,” he said softly, almost looking like he might reach for her again, but remembering too quickly all that had just happened. Knowing the only way for either of them to get past this was for him to leave, he nodded agreement. “Okay, Marine. Write to me. Please, keep in touch,” he pled with his eyes.

“I’ll try, Harm. Whenever I can,” she answered, wondering if she’d said too much.

“Okay,” he accepted her answer at face value. As he turned away, she didn’t see the hollow look in his eyes that reflected the deep hole she’d just torn in his heart.

It was over. This was how Mac wanted it. He didn’t like the sound of her answer, it could mean she would be too busy, or it might mean she would be someplace where communication wasn’t possible. She didn’t want to tell him, and there was nothing to be gained by upsetting her. Somehow, he sincerely doubted he’d hear from her. Walking across the floor of her room towards the door was the most difficult thing he’d ever done in his life. Something told him he’d never see her again, ever, and he couldn’t bear it.

He pulled the door open and looked back at her. She’d advanced and stood only a few feet from him. “See you around, Marine,” he told her, his voice catching in his throat.

“See you around, Flyboy,” she answered, holding herself in so tightly she felt she might break.

Slowly he pulled the door closed and as the lock clicked into place, she rushed forward to turn the deadbolt. It was then the tears began to fall. It was the ultimate loss in her life. She knew in that instant that nothing would ever bring them back together again.

Hurrying to the window, she watched from behind the curtains, waiting for him to cross the parking lot and get into his car. She saw him look up at her window one final time before he put his car in gear and drove off. Even from this distance she could see on his face the death of hope.

She lost track of time as she stood there resting her head against the windowpane. Her tears fell unchecked as she sobbed for the loss of this very last thing she’d ever held dear.

End of seven

Epilogue



Syro-Arabian desert
February 14, 2006
Unknown time


She rode in the back of the HMMWV squeezed between the side of the truck and Private Gordon who manned the gun. Corporal Carver sat opposite her in the back seat. A sniper, PFC Harrell, was hitching a ride in front next to the driver. She almost smiled at the fact that the private was smaller than she was. She could just barely see around him and out the front window.

They were heading out of Ar Rutbah to a forward position. An assessment was needed regarding a developing situation, and Mac’s CO had sent her along with the escort for a supply truck to evaluate the circumstances first hand. The major in charge of the field operation needed her opinion on his legal options, before he could advance his position through several small towns near the Syrian border.

Mac had leaned her head against the side of the truck, trying to catch a breath of air in the heat and stifling closeness, when the explosion set her upright. Glancing out the front window she saw the lieutenant’s HMMWV in midair, flames spewing from the undercarriage. Two men were thrown from the vehicle as it slowly turned over and landed upside down. Undoubtedly, the victim of an IED buried in the roadway.

Immediately, their driver swerved to avoid collision with the destroyed vehicle. Due to his quick reflexes, they probably missed the same fate as the first truck by a few feet. But their attackers were well armed and in that instant she felt the blow of an RPG as it burrowed into the dirt beneath the right side of their engine. The impact sent their HMMVW spinning then rolling down a short embankment. Somehow it managed to land upright at a slightly nose down angle in the bottom of a wadi. Mac and the corporal spilled from the vehicle. Dragging their two injured companions with them, they quickly sought cover behind the wrecked truck.

Mac scrambled for a protected place near the damaged engine compartment, trying to assess the source of the gunfire that now rained down upon all four vehicles. The supply truck that had followed remained upright, but she could see through the window of the vehicle that the driver was very likely dead. There was some indication that the two guards in the supply truck were returning fire.

She could see one man who had been thrown from the burning lead HMMWV, but he was laying still. She couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. There was little hope for anyone who might be trapped inside the inferno created by the ruptured fuel tanks. There was no evidence that anyone had escaped except the two thrown out in the initial explosion, but no way to tell for certain.

Just then, another RPG scored a direct hit into the passenger compartment of the third HMMWV in their small convoy. It had just pulled up and parked diagonally in front of their position. The exploding fireball removed any protection it might have afforded them, and eliminated the men trapped inside before they could get out. Shrapnel and burning debris rained down around them and they burrowed under their vehicle for protection. The brutal attack had provided vital information for the survivors; she had noted the rocket’s point of origin.

Before she could act on the thought, she spotted their driver lying near the roadway about twenty feet from their truck. He’d apparently been thrown when they were hit, and although injured, he wasn’t dead. He was however, completely vulnerable to enemy fire.

“Branson,” she heard the corporal call to the man. “Can you move?”

“No,” came the weak reply. “Leg is broken, Corp. Just leave me.” It was obvious from the blood on his pants that the wound was high on his leg and very bad. If he didn’t get killed by enemy fire, he was in danger of bleeding to death.

A hail of bullets was spitting all around. It was only a matter of time before the man would be peppered with life ending lead.

“No way, Branson. Lay still, play dead. We’ll get to you ASAP,” Corporal Carver ordered. “Only two of us, we’ll do what we can,” he reassured his man.

With the sniper having a busted up ankle and the private unconscious, the corporal had no one to send. He completely disregarded Mac’s presence, prioritizing her protection over rescuing the injured man. His words were intended to comfort a man whose fate was sealed.

There was no reply except a weak nod from the man lying exposed in the sand beside the road.

“I’m pretty sure my ankles broke, Corp,” the young sniper told the other man. “But I can cover you.”

“I’m going,” Mac spoke up, moving as the words left her lips.

“Ma’am, I can’t let you do that,” the corporal protested.

“That man needs help, Carver. The only way you can stop me is to refuse to cover me. Now, you two keep them from shooting me while I get our man,” Mac ordered as she unbuttoned her shirt. The two men stared at her open mouthed. “Turn around,” she ordered sharply. They both quickly ducked their heads. Taking her knife from its sheath, she unfastened one side of her flak vest and cut away her t-shirt underneath. Then refastening her clothing she looked over at the PFC, “You have a sniper scope on that thing, use it now.”

Moving to the front end of the truck, she stuffed the shirt fragment in her back pocket, then took a position and looked towards the wounded PFC. The corporal barely had time to find a position next to the sniper. “Okay, Harrell,” he ordered. “Let’s give the colonel some cover fire.”

The instant they began firing Mac dove from cover at the other end of the truck and headed for a washout a few feet away. Half-scrambling, half-crawling up the carved out embankment, she managed to reach the driver laying just off the road with little exposure to herself.

She wouldn’t be able to take him back that way, though. The ground was too unstable to support two of them. She could see the slope of her intended path as it flattened towards the bottom. She would have to cross about eight feet of open area where she would be completely exposed to enemy fire.

Placing herself between him and their attackers, she pushed the wounded man over the edge of the road where they would have a moment’s protection from the gunfire if they kept low. She quickly tied the strip of t-shirt around his leg to stem the flow of blood then shoved and dragged his damaged body down the embankment towards the shelter of her broken vehicle.

She had nearly reached the cover of the HMMWV when she felt it. The searing pain ran from the side of her leg across her backside and fire erupted somewhere near her spine. She knew her back hadn’t taken a direct hit, she could still move, but the bullet’s path had brought it very near a vital area. She could feel the muscles spasm around it.

She prayed that she would be lucky and that nasty piece of lead would stay where it was until help arrived. Steeling herself to ignore the pain in favor of survival, she made a last shove to get the driver within reach of the sniper who was crouched low at the back end of their vehicle. Together they dragged him to safety.

“Sorry I can’t help you more right now,” she told the man she had just rescued. “Our friends here need a little help.” She was finding it increasingly difficult to talk. ‘Just do, don’t think, or talk’ she told herself while she searched around for a weapon and ammunition supply on the unconscious Marine gunner. As Mac turned to take up a position to return fire she realized their sniper had been hit helping her with the driver.

She scooted gingerly back to his side. “Can you still shoot, Private Harrell?” she asked looking at the light fifty sniper rifle.

“I don’t think so,” he shook his head. “My right arm took a hit, ma’am. “I can’t handle the ‘Barrett’. Give me that M-14,” he indicated the one she had just picked up. I can try using it with one hand,” he replied through gritted teeth. His left ankle was shattered and now his right shoulder was a mess.

Mac pulled the lesser rifle into position and balanced it on his discarded pack. Supported this way he would only need to aim and fire, albeit left handed. Taking his Barrett she crawled on her belly to the other end of the damaged truck.

“Ma’am, do you know how to use that?” the corporal questioned between firing shots with his own weapon, when he saw what she was doing.

“Yep,” was the only answer she could verbalize through her pain. Climbing with her good leg, she took a position draped over the top of the hood, then rested the weapon on the cab of the truck. She adjusted her mind to autopilot, wrestled the heavy rifle into position on its tripod, then settled herself behind the lens of the powerful scope

With every round she fired, searing pain shot though her as the kick from the powerful weapon shook her damaged body. But it was doing some good. She could see at least half or more of her shots hitting their mark in the seemingly endless supply of heads that popped over the nearby crest.

Someone had pushed the dead driver out of the way in the undamaged supply truck and had maneuvered it sideways to provide cover, while the two men thrown from the lead vehicle took the opportunity to scramble away from enemy fire. She fired her weapon at everything that moved on the opposing hill, keeping their attackers heads down while the remaining survivors sought safety. Once they’d moved to a place behind her vehicle the lieutenant, who was the less injured of the two, helped return fire.

The Marine driving the supply truck moved it again to provide an additional barrier for their position, before running with his partner to join them. One of them didn’t make it and lay still in the sand halfway between their cover and the supply truck. The other made it to safety, but a bullet entering just under the edge of his protective vest penetrated deep into his side, rendering him helpless.

She could tell by the angle of incoming fire that the other side was spreading their line of attack. It was unlikely they would blow up the supply truck; the men on that hill undoubtedly wanted the contents. But they would soon flank it, and their position behind the upturned Hummer would be completely exposed. She continued to fire, giving little value to a vague shout for help heard over her headset. She had no idea how many of their companions had died, but unless she and her two and a half helpers could drive the attackers off, by the time rescue arrived they’d all be dead.

Scanning the hilltop, she selected another target and fractions of a second after she fired another RPG exploded nearby. She’d spotted it being aimed, and managed to eliminate the man operating the launcher. It hadn’t stopped him in time, but it at least had deflected his aim. Crossing her fingers, she fired another round directly at the weapon. She had no way of knowing if she had disabled it, but it was worth a try. She knew, however, it would only be minutes before someone else moved to the launcher and tried again. Time was running out.

She was calculating how long it might take before the enemy had their range if the weapon still worked, when she heard the scream of two F-18’s flying straight out of the noonday sun, headed directly for their position. Swell, she thought, ‘friendly fire’, just what they needed. She remembered what had happened the last time she’d been stranded in the desert, and that time they weren’t even close to the target. She had a bad feeling they were all about to become victims of the Navy’s hotshot flyboys.

There was only one man whose skills she would trust in this situation, and wishing for him would be the vainest of hopes. There were hundreds of Navy flyers out here. One of the pilots above wasn’t likely to be Harm.

In the half second it took for that thought to flash through her mind, the Hornets swooped in close and surgically eliminated their attackers with two well-placed missiles. Ducking her head as the explosions rippled through the air, she glanced up just in time to see both of them barrel roll out of the dive and tear away across the clear blue desert sky. Why did they always have to pull that show off move, she grumped to herself. Still, she was grateful that these two had proven their skill. Grudgingly, she admitted she could tolerate a victory roll if it allowed her and the men around her to live long enough to be rescued. That was some Valentine the Navy had just delivered.

Seconds later, another flight of Hornets took out an unseen site a little further away on their left near a bend in the road. Apparently, their attackers had tried to cross over and get behind them. As the fighters screamed away into the bright blue sky, a strange quiet fell over the desert.

Within minutes, a chopper full of QRF Marines landed, taking up positions on the perimeter. Following closely behind, a second chopper quickly touched down with a team of medics. She stayed at her post watching the horizon, but there was no further sign of enemy approach.

The pain in her leg and back was reaching numbing proportions. Something besides just flesh had been damaged, of that she felt certain. Her iron will was failing. She was getting just slightly woozie from the injury, and her head drooped against her arm, when one of the Corpsmen found her up on the truck.

“Hey, over here,” he called. “This one doesn’t look so good.” Looking around hazily, she wondered who they were talking about. Then she felt strong arms reach for her. Carefully, they started to move her off the hood.

Involuntarily, Mac screamed in pain. “Chief!!!” The Corpsman shouted for the head medic. “I think we have a problem.” In seconds, she felt the truck move slightly as someone climbed up beside her. She felt the warm sun on her back as he pulled her shirt up, and cut through the waistband of her trousers then down the side of the leg with his scissors.

“Whoa,” the Chief Petty Officer whistled. “The angle of this exit wound looks like it could be close to his spine. We’ll have to be careful. We don’t want to cripple him. Corpsman,” he yelled from his perch. “Get me a back board and all the muscle you can round up.”

“You take care of her, now, ya hear,” her now familiar Corporal Carver called out. “That’s our JAG, and she’s a woman. She saved the driver’s life and helped us lay down cover fire for the others. Even took out that last RPG. She didn’t even let us know she was hurt.”

Lifting the edge of her helmet the CPO exclaimed, “Jesus, it is a woman! With a sniper rifle, too! What the hell is she doing in combat!?” At least that explained the tattoo and questionable underwear he’d just seen.

“We were all we had,” the corporal hollered back. “She took this guys rifle when he was shot,” he nodded towards PFC Harrell who was now receiving treatment for his injuries. “You should have seen her Chief. We couldn’t stop her. She’d sure make a hell of a general.”

The wound must have happened when she went after the driver, the Chief Corpsman decided, because it couldn’t have happened in her current position. He shook his head, wondering at the personal strength it had taken to fire that heavy weapon with this kind of injury.

In the following minutes she drifted in and out of haziness. She felt movement from time to time as they stabilized the truck and several more men grouped around her.

She heard someone comment that she must be ‘one tough cookie’ because he’d seen men reduced to a screaming heap for less. The comment gave her enough pride to endure what came next.

Gritting her teeth, she remained silent, as numerous hands gently lifted her from the side of the vehicle and placed her on her stomach on a hard stretcher that was slipped beneath her. Rolled blankets were used to stabilize her body on either side. Then she was strapped securely to the board, and lowered from the side of the truck.

“Sorry, ma’am. It’s not a soft cozy stretcher, but until we have a doc look at that wound, we don’t want to take a chance moving your back any more,” he apologized with a small, nervous laugh.

“T’s okay, Chief. Unnerstan’,” she mumbled, breathing heavily. The pain was intense now, and she was barely able to form the words as she fought to remain conscious.

“I know that must hurt like hell, ma’am. Im getting you something for the pain,” he comforted her.

“T’sn’t s’bad,” her words all but indistinguishable. “Have a frien’… jus’ spen’ twel’e hours…labor…twins. Thisss piece a cake.” Her answer was ripe with false bravado, more to keep her own spirits up than anything.

The Chief Corpsman chuckled and shook his head, continuing to prepare the IV.

She could feel another medic dressing her wound when she heard a third chopper land. Just as the Chief Corpsman slipped the needle into her arm, and she felt the medication take effect, a large form shadowed her face. She heard the voice of her CO.

“Well, Colonel, looks like you’re going home,” he told her. “Lucky those flyboys were in the neighborhood or I would have lost you all.”

“Yes, sir…luckier they knew how to shoot straight.” Commenting wryly, she looked at him as he knelt beside her. The pain meds allowed her to respond coherently now, but a fog was forming in her brain. Mac knew she wouldn’t be conscious long.

Laughing, he remarked, “Well at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor, Mac.”

“I just hope I haven’t lost my job,” she replied. “How many did we lose, sir?”

“Five, Colonel,” he replied grimly. “The rest have various injuries, but they’ll live.”

“What did we miss?” She’d been there when they planned the mission. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The area was confirmed clear.

“You missed nothing, Colonel. The intel from the spooks was faulty. By the time we got the corrected version you were already taking fire.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me, sir,” she replied sleepily, with a dry laugh that hurt like hell.

Her CO laughed heartily again. “You know, Mac, I’d love to have you stick around, you have an unusual way of looking at things, but I figure by the time you’re done with your rehab, General Cresswell will have other plans for you.”

“Will…will I be okay, sir?” it was her first sign of uncertainty since the lead truck exploded.

“According to my chief medic you should heal fine,” he tried to reassure her.

“He’s not a doctor, sir,” she was succumbing to the effects of her wound and her spirits were sagging with exhaustion and pain.

“No, he’s not, Colonel, but he’s been with me quite a while and he hasn’t been wrong yet. Think positive. It may take a while, and they might have to delay your ceremony a few weeks.”

“Ceremony, sir…?” Her mind was no longer focusing.

“Colonel, you’ve already got the purple heart. That’s a given. But if half of what the men tell me is true, you’re in for a Silver Star with valor, and I’m going to see to it you get it. I’m familiar with your file, Mac, and what you’ve done here overwrites any past mistakes,” he told her gently. “Whatever you came out here to find was never lost.”

“Sir, I only did…” but the drug they’d administered for pain took full effect just then. Her exhausted and damaged body gave up fighting to remain awake. It was quite a while before she formed another conscious thought.

END