Survival Skills
by Bratling
Disclaimer: Not mine. I borrowed them, hugged them, squeezed them, called them George, and then gave them back like a good girl. Harm, Cresswell, and the TV series JAG belong to Donald P. Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures, and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment.
Author's Note: The plot bunnies are multiplying. This popped into my head and I had to write it.
"A hero is someone who understands the responsibility that comes with his freedom."
-Bob Dylan
1330 LOCAL
20 JANUARY 2005
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VA
Harm came to attention in front of the General's desk. "Commander Rabb, reporting as ordered."
"At ease." Cresswell picked up a file from his desk and opened it. "These are the latest results from weapons qualifications."
The week before, Cresswell had ordered everyone at JAG Headquarters to undergo weapons quals, citing the fact that since they could be sent into the field at any time they needed to be able to defend themselves. "Sir," he acknowledged.
"Commander Rabb, how is it that you beat both mine and the Colonel's scores on the shooting range?" Cresswell closed the folder and set it down on his desk.
Harm really wasn't sure he wanted to admit it. "It was several years ago... a Lieutenant Commander doesn't refuse a two-star when he orders him to report to a Gunnery Sergeant for sniper training?" he ventured cautiously. "To be fair, the three of us were swapping Vietnam stories and there was a large quantity of Wild Turkey involved."
Cresswell studied him for a moment. "You're not old enough to have been in country then."
"Misspent youth, sir." He said quietly. "My father was shot down Christmas Eve, 1969. He was MIA... The summer I turned sixteen I went looking for him. Met up with a former recon marine who was looking for evidence of POWs. He put me through a survival course-a kind of boot camp, I guess. He's why I can field strip an M-16 and an AK-47."
"Rabb, follow me," the general stood and led him to the armory. With a few quiet words with the guard, a rifle was laying on the counter in front of him. "Prove it."
"Yes, sir," he said. With an internal sigh, he quickly field stripped the weapon and reassembled it. It took longer than he would have liked, but he was out of practice, and even then, he was faster at it than average. He stepped away from the gun to allow the General to examine it. "I can't say the information hasn't been useful, sir. I doubt I would've been able to hit the terrorist during the Tiger Cruise incident before she could blow up the children without it."
Cresswell finished his examination and raised an eyebrow. "Seems I need to take a better look at your service record, Rabb."
Harm gave him a wry smile. "I've been told it's interesting reading."
Cresswell snorted. "All things considered, I don't doubt it. Dismissed, Commander."
"Aye, sir, " he came to attention again, then turned and went back to his office. He really wasn't sure what to make of their new CO. Only time would tell.
End.