Title: Gypsy Crow
Author: Melpomene
Email: Melpomene@stories.com
Distribution: just let me know where it is
Disclaimer: I have no rights to the characters and backstory used within the story that follows
Author's Note: This was written at least a year ago but I only posted it to one list, where it got favorable reviews but my resolve to finally post it in an archive wavered before I managed to do so.
0720 local time
somewhere in the Saudi desert
The women trudged across the sand toward the ancient well. Black veils and gowns concealed their features from the prying eyes of the outsiders who sat in the military encampment just along the Saudi border, a few dozen meters from the local watering hole. Neither group paid the other any overt attention; the women continued on their path to the well to fill the water jugs they carried and the soldiers kept watch for any would-be attackers. Once at the well, only one of the women turned her head toward the tents, American tents, American marine tents…
2300 local time
Marine encampment
later that day
A full moon shone brightly across the white sand of the desert, hiding nothing from clear view. Colonel Robert Parker stood outside the supply tent and watched the alien environment. No matter how many times he was sent into the desert, it would never fail to hold some amount of mysterious beauty for him. His eyes scanned the cooling mountains of sand, pausing when he detected something moving, something bigger than the rodents that scrambled the dunes at night in search of food.
He remained motionless, watching the form draw nearer the encampment and slowly take the shape of a Saudi woman in traditional garb. Her veil caught in the gentle breeze that chased across the dusty land, sending it in a lazy dance around her shoulders. He waited to see what she would do next; they hadn't had any trouble from the locals and he was curious to see what this woman could possibly want with a camp full of marines.
She walked directly toward him, stopping within just a few feet and drawing a sheet of paper from the voluminous folds of her gown. Holding it out for him to take, she spoke softly in a wavering voice thick with a Saudi accent, "For the CO."
"What is this?" He accepted the folded sheet of paper, turning it over in his hands to peer at the writing on the front. "Who is it from?"
"One of your own," her voice trembled and she cast a fleeting glance around the camp to assure they had no audience.
"Who?"
The woman shook her head sadly, "I cannot say. Just please, give this to your CO." So saying, the woman turned and sprinted away from the camp leaving the Colonel staring after her and clutching the note in a tight fist.
1527 Romeo
JAG headquarters
two weeks later
"Can I help you, Sir?" Tiner saluted the marine colonel who stepped off the elevator, looking questioningly around the office.
"At ease," the man said, turning to face Tiner, "And yes, you can help. I'm looking for Sarah Mackenzie's office, Major Mackenzie, I believe."
"Colonel Mackenzie," Tiner corrected. "She's in court right now but should be back soon if you'd like to wait." Tiner escorted the visitor to Mac's office to await her return.
Nearly an hour later Mac and Harm exited the elevator. "I'm tellin' `ya, stickboy, that cocky attitude is not attractive."
"Come on, Mac, you're just sore because I beat you, again I might add." Harm grinned at his partner.
"Oh yeah, chalk up another victory for the squid," Mac chuckled derisively as she strode toward her office. "Good afternoon, Tiner. Does the Admiral have any plans for us for the rest of the day or can we get out of here early?"
"The Admiral is away from JAG for the rest of the afternoon, Ma'am." Tiner hurriedly continued as Mac's eyes lit up at the prospect of an early departure, "There's someone here to see you, Ma'am. He's been waiting in your office."
"Thank you, Tiner." She shrugged her shoulders at Harm's questioning look and grinned at him when she added the folders she'd been carrying to the stack he already held in his hands. "You'll take care of these for me, won't you? Mustn't keep my guest waiting any longer."
Harm's grin faded at the added weight and he cast a desperate look around the room. "Bud!"
Light laughter trailed after Mac as she approached and entered her office. Once inside she spied her mystery guest as he rose from the chair he'd been occupying. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Colonel…"
"Parker, Colonel Robert Parker, Colonel Mackenzie." He extended a hand in greeting, shaking hers in a firm grip. "I apologize for the lack of an appointment, I realize that you are quite busy but I was unsure of when I might arrive and didn't want to put this off any longer than absolutely necessary."
"Colonel Parker, I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. What couldn't be put off any longer? I don't know you, do I?" Mac gestured for the colonel to sit again as she moved around to her own chair, sitting down and resting her arms on the desktop.
"No, Ma'am, you don't know me," he paused before continuing, "but we were hoping you might know the person who wrote this." He pulled a crumpled sheet of paper out of his pocket and laid it on her desk. He hadn't let it out of his sight since the night the Saudi woman had handed it to him; he had memorized the note and committed to memory the very style of the script in which it was written.
Curious by the unaccustomed intrigue, Mac picked up the sheet of paper and slowly and carefully unfolded it. On the outside was her name: Sarah Mackenzie, US Marine Corps. The writing was dimly familiar and she turned the paper over to find a single sentence that caused her heart to skip a beat when she read it. "The Gypsy Crow is a phoenix," she whispered the words hoarsely, her mouth suddenly dry and her tongue uncooperative.
"Do you know what it means, who wrote it?" Colonel Parker leaned forward in his chair, observing her sudden pallor. The JAG lawyer knew something about the cryptic message and he was determined to discover what it was.
"Yeah," Mac murmured, licking her lips in an attempt to ease her speech, "I know who wrote it. I attended her funeral."
1720 Romeo
Mac's Apartment
Harm handed Mac a glass of water and sat down near her on the couch, remaining close to lend her emotional support by way of proximity if nothing else. Colonel Parker was seated comfortably in a nearby chair listening to the stories Mac told of the Gypsy Crow.
Mac smiled a thank you to Harm for the water and sipped it slowly. "I met her when we were in Bosnia. We shared sleeping quarters for the duration of our tour there and got to know each other pretty well. She was a Major at that time, Major Stormy Caldwell, but we all called her Gypsy Crow."
"How'd she get a name like that?" Colonel Parker wanted to know.
Mac smiled at the memory. A mental image of the woman flashed across her mind's eye: tall, slender, short cropped chocolate-colored hair, huge brown-black eyes, dark golden skin that had been the envy of all her female acquaintances, infectious laughter, and a gorgeous smile. "There was a band of Gypsies near our base of operations and the locals kept confusing Stormy for one of them, I lost track of how many people tried to get her to tell them their fortunes. She finally gave up trying to convince them she was an American and read palms periodically. They thought she was Gypsy because of her coloring, she had the dark skin and hair and the dusky smudges beneath her eyes. When one of the guys in our team called her Gypsy Rose she laughed and said it should be Gypsy Crow," Mac paused and let the memories wash over her. "She was actually Native American and her `Indian name' was something having to do with crows."
"And so she became Gypsy Crow?" Harm asked.
"Uh huh, anytime we were out unofficially she was Gypsy Crow, I think she even preferred it to Stormy. She was one of the few people I felt I could talk to without reservation. She never seemed to pass judgment on anyone, regardless of their past." Mac dropped her gaze to study the weave of her couch's upholstery. "She hadn't had the easiest childhood herself…" her voice trailed off.
"But you said earlier that you attended her funeral?" Colonel Parker urged.
"It was a few years after we'd been in Bosnia together. We had kept in sporadic contact and she'd been transferred to the Middle East. Her husband was also a Marine and when they had managed to get positions within the same continent they were thrilled to be within a reasonable distance of one another. They were a strange couple, being stationed together never meant much to either one of them but when they were it was always a riot." A shudder coursed through Mac as she recalled the telegram she's received when Gypsy Crow had been gone only a few months. "There had been an explosion. The bodies they were able to recover had to be identified with dog tags and personal effects such as jewelry. Her tags and wedding ring were found on one of the bodies and they shipped her back to the States for burial."
"What about dental records?" Harm asked.
"No, the marines that had been captured by the Arab group were tortured and mutilated prior to the bombing, they had made sure that positive identifications were almost impossible."
"And this message?" Colonel Parker asked. "The Gypsy Crow is a phoenix?"
"I don't know how, but she's alive."
0805 Romeo
JAG headquarters
Office of Admiral Chegwidden
"So you want me to grant you personal leave of absence based on what? Colonel, we're understaffed as it is, Imes and Mattoni can't take on all the cases single-handedly, even with the help of Mr. Roberts." The Admiral leaned back in his chair and studied the nervous Marine who had come seeking an audience with him that morning. He hadn't seen her this agitated since the whole Coster stalking affair. But whatever it was that was disturbing her would have to come out into the open before he granted her leave of any kind.
"Sir, if you found out that a comrade, who you thought was dead, was actually alive and behind enemy lines, what would you do?" Mac asked.
The Admiral considered her question thoughtfully, at last replying, "I'd want to have solid evidence that the comrade was in fact alive and that it wasn't all a ruse."
"It's not a ruse, Sir, I'm sure of it." She handed him the note Colonel Parker had delivered to her the day before.
The admiral unfolded the paper and read the message it held. Without knowing the specifics, the meaning was clear. "Then I'd do the same thing you're doing." Noting her raised hopes, he added, "But I'd take a certain navy commander with me."
"Sir…" Mac's brow creased in consternation. "It may become increasingly hostile, I couldn't ask the commander to risk his life for someone he doesn't even know."
"Colonel, do you know all the citizens of the United States?" AJ asked, halting her argument.
"Of course not, Sir."
"Are you an acquaintance of the United States' allied countries?" he further questioned.
"No, Sir." Mac was pretty sure she knew where the admiral's line of questioning was headed but she remained silent and acquiescent.
"And yet you are sworn to serve and protect those citizens, with your life if it comes to that. And besides, Rabb still owes you for following him to Russia to watch his six. You've got two weeks, Colonel. That will be all." AJ turned back to his computer, summarily dismissing the surprised colonel.
"Aye-aye, Sir." Mac affected a quick salute and turned to leave the confines of the admiral's office.
Studying, with mock seriousness, the green screen saver aliens that danced across his monitor, the admiral called out to Mac, "You just be sure to come back, Colonel. I don't like attending funerals."
"Understood, Sir," she murmured and closed the door behind her.
1242 local time
over the Atlantic Ocean
passenger cabin of DC10 flight #387
"How you holding up, Ninja Girl?"
Mac sighed and pulled the window shade down to block out the view of endless ocean that stretched out below them. "How could she be alive, Harm?" her soft voice was barely audible over the hum of conversation and the endless droning of the in-flight movie; even with the movie's audio being piped through a headphone system, the sound was loud enough to be detected. "I don't know whether to be ecstatic that she's not gone, or horrified that she's still living. It's been years since she was presumed dead. I don't even want to consider what she's suffered in the interim."
"Don't think about that," Harm whispered, drawing his knuckles along her jaw and locking her eyes in a gaze of compassion and hope. "If this is your friend then she'll be fine. You're the one who told us what a fighter she was. Didn't you say that she was even more stubborn than you are?" He paused and waited for Mac's nod of agreement. "See, if she's out there, she's going to be just fine. We've only got to find her and bring her back home where she belongs."
He watched the tumultuous flux of emotions flash across Mac's face as she strove to control them. "I know, why don't you tell me another story about Gypsy Crow. We're stuck here for another few hours at least and it will not only help to pass the time but will also give me some background information on this woman we're going after."
Mac settled herself further back in the seat and thought for a long moment. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of the contradictory information it was trying to process. An old memory, long buried, slipped into her thoughts. A certain young major who, tired of the barbs and jabs she received from the other marines, took a knife to her long hair one night and ended up resembling a hedgehog when she was finished. She'd been so startled by the sight that Gypsy Crow had to wrestle her fire arm from her when she'd come across her in the shadows of the camp, Mac had been certain she was the enemy and would have shot her on the spot had Gypsy Crow not been so quick to disarm her. A chuckle escaped her lips as she remembered trying to bring some semblance of order to Gypsy Crow's hair that night. They had finally accepted defeat when neither woman could stop laughing long enough to hold the scissors steady. Their CO's expression had been absolutely priceless the following morning… Mac sighed happily and began to relay the story of Gypsy Crow and the knife to Harm, much to his delight.
The commercial flight they had taken into Jordan touched down in the early stages of a thunderstorm. Walking through the terminal building they scanned the milling crowd for anyone who looked as if they might be American. Thunder shook the windows in their frames as the onslaught of heavy rain worsened.
"Let's just hope that the hotel is nearby," Harm said as he hefted both his bag and Mac's and approached the exit.
"I don't see our contact here, I guess we should just go on to the hotel and see if they show up there." Mac peered into the heavy downpour. "Didn't Gunny say something about a drought?"
0700 local time
Hotel d' Jentre
Harm's room
"Any word yet?" Harm asked, leaning on the doorjamb of their connecting rooms.
"No, it looks like we're on our own until we get to the encampment." Mac crossed the room and drew back the heavy draperies to reveal a morning drenched with rain. "I thought it never rains here?"
"I guess Gunny was wrong." Harm walked to stand behind Mac. "So, what did Colonel Parker say again about where and when he was given the message?"
The rest of the morning was spent studying the maps the Colonel had given them delineating the marine outpost and the known local compounds. There seemed to be half a dozen likely places for Gypsy Crow to be confined in the area surrounding the well. The only problem would be narrowing their choices since the Colonel couldn't be sure which household the mysterious woman had come from.
Among the military maps and hastily scrawled notes that littered the table laid the cryptic message and a photo Mac had pulled from a storage crate. The picture showed a pair of women dressed in dusty fatigues, bright smiles shining out from darkly tanned faces, perched on a military jeep, firearms and helmets littering the vehicle's hood. They didn't look like typical marines, then again, Harm thought, they weren't typical marines by any stretch of the imagination
"I just love playing dress up," Mac sighed as she removed a dark gown and veil from the closet and held them up to the dim morning light. A frown creased her brow at the thought of being stuck in such an outfit for any length of time; for all the material it consisted of, it hindered movement a great deal.
"At least you'll look like you fit in," Harm told her, "I just wish I could go in with you."
"Oh yeah, and blow my cover before I even begin looking for her? No thank you, you'll be better off observing from the encampment. Don't worry, there's plenty of room in this thing to hide a wire, you'll hear every word I say and hear."
"The Admiral wanted me here to watch your six, Mac. I can't do that if I can't see it," Harm argued.
"Cute, Harm, you're very funny. I'll be fine, you'll see. All I'm going to do at first is hang around a well in the desert. How dangerous can that be?" Mac understood how he felt and she wasn't entirely sure she would have stayed so far back from the front line if it were Harm traipsing into dangerous territory but she couldn't risk scaring off the only person who could lead her to Gypsy Crow.