The Other Side of Honor

by Pen to Paper Writer

What would you do if you had the power to save someone's life and give them the closure that they are so desperately seeking? Would you do it? Richard Rodgers was a committed and honorable soldier. With his beliefs, there were no gray areas only black or white. On one disastrous day that had all changed and he was now doubting his purpose in life. Until he met one Kate Beckett...

4. Chapter 4

A/N: Readers please pay attention to the dates listed before every segment. They are important because they describe different points in time from the eyes of that character.

08APR02 0937
Air Mobility Command
375th Air Mobility Wing Intake Office
Dover, De.

The C-17 Globemaster III lands on runway 19-01 and taxied to a stop at the receiving area for all incoming military personnel arriving at Dover AFB. The rear cargo door opens and Air Force Captain Pete Spencer enters the cargo bay to address the incoming personnel.

"Good morning lady and gentlemen. Most of you know that your time here will be short until you are transferred to your final command. Those of you who don't see me afterward. With that said I'm going to ask you to all follow me so that myself and my staff can process you in. After that, there will be a short time to go to the mess hall and have a hot meal, because honestly, the in-flight meals are something of an acquired taste on these flights. Those who are able to make it under your own power please follow me. Those who need assistance there will be a medical corpsman willing to assist you." The Captain turns and walks to the end of the ramp door and onto the tarmac. He doesn't have to wait long. There are eighty-three uniformed men and one woman lined up behind him.

Within the hour they are all checked in and most are heading over to the mess hall to get something to eat. Others just want to wander around.

Rick basically inhales his food. The Captain was right a good edible hot meal hit the spot. He feels full. So, he grabs his crutches and makes his way back to the intake office to talk to the Captain. Upon entering the office space, he sees the man and walks over to him.

"Captain Spencer, may I have a word please?"

"Sure thing Captain Rodgers, what's on your mind?"

"I was under the impression that I would be assigned here for the next three months or more to complete my physical therapy. But what you told us on the plane is that we won't be here for that long. Why?"

"Captain Rodgers, this of all places is the worst place you would want to be. This command is the only command that receives the remains of the men and women who are KIA from the Middle East and other areas of operation. They are processed here and interred according to their family's wishes. If you'll bear with me for a second, I'll find out where you are going after you are processed out.

Captain Spencer pulls up the pending transfer orders and looks them over until he finds Rick's name. He reads and is not surprised at what he finds. Most of the men head there after being in a situation like his.

"Captain Rodgers, after you are set up with your temporary quarters here, in three days you will be heading to Walter Reed North Atlantic Regional Medical Command to commence further treatment. When that is finished you are to be discharged honorably."

"Thank you, Captain." Rick was a little lost, he thought that he would go through the PT here at Dover. He had a call to make later.

He was assigned a room at the temporary BOQ and his only duty requirement was to muster for morning quarters until his flight departed on Thursday. He thanked the Captain for getting him the BOQ room so quickly and headed there to get some sleep.

Xx

18MAR02 0730
Headquarters Detachment, 66th Military Intelligence Group.
Wiesbaden Army Airfield, Wiesbaden, Germany.

"General Rodgers, please have a seat." Colonel Wheeler offers. After they sit across from each other, the Colonel has time to size up the General sitting in front of him and wonders why he's here.

"Colonel, I'll get right to the point. I know that you have very heavy connections within the CIA in DC. I was hoping that you could make a call or two on my behalf."

"General, when you get to the point you aren't kidding, are you."

"No not in the least. This is important to me Colonel."

"Not that I am obliged to make this call, and I still might but I am still wondering why? Why would a career officer suddenly decide to switch gears so quickly? Have you given any thought to what you might be doing with the CIA? Because I'm betting that you haven't. Essentially, you'd be starting all over again at an entry level no less."

The Colonel did have a point, but Jackson had many favors owed to him, he only needed to get in. Then he would work on what to do later."

"Colonel, while that's true, I believe that I can be an asset to the agency in any capacity. I have something I can bring to the table."

"And what would that be sir?" The Colonel asks.

"Experience."

"General, I'll make these calls on your behalf, but be forewarned, my recommendations might fall to the wayside. I don't have the pull that I once had."

"All I ask Colonel is that you plant my name with them. I'll take care of the rest."

"Very well General, if there's nothing else, then I have calls to make."

Jackson nods and rises to leave. When he gets outside of the Colonel's office he has time to think without being stressed. He decides to head back to his quarters and think about his next move.

Xx

11APR02 1845
Air Mobility Command
375th Air Mobility Wing Office
Dover, De.

"Captain Rodgers, we meet again!" Captain Spencer says as he greets a hobbling Rick.

"Good evening Captain Spencer. How are you?"

"I'm doing good. And yourself?"

"I'm doing good too. But I really can't bear to endure the next three months that are facing me."

"Captain, it will all be over before you know it. And in the end of it, you'll be healed."

"Thanks. The flight I'm on is still set for 2000 hours?" Rick asks.

"It is. That's your bird coming in now. That's why I'm here to get them checked in and settled and then you're off for a quick forty-five-minute flight to Andrews AFB."

Rick sits on a folding chair gingerly and waits for the C-17 passengers to be checked in and processed.

When the men and women are all processed the Captain walks over and hands Rick his travel orders to Walter Reed.

"Captain, it's been nice to know you. Have a safe trip." He says as he helps Rick up out of the chair. He gives him a look of thanks and he starts off to the plane that is getting ready to fly him and six others out to DC.

11APR02 2100
North Atlantic Regional Medical Command
Walter Reed General Hospital
Washington, DC
Major General Kevin C. Kiley, Commanding Officer

"Captain Rodgers reporting for duty, sir." Rick does his best to stand at attention with a sharp salute in place.

"At ease Captain. I'm Major General Kiley. I run this facility and hopefully we'll have you back to 100% in no time."

"Thank-You sir. Can I ask the General a question?"

"Proceed, Captain. Speak freely."

"I am only questioning why a C.O. like yourself is here to greet a Captain?"

"Captain, I feel it is my responsibility to welcome every man and woman who passes through that door. This way I can take the time to get to know each and every soldier who receives treatment here. In a way, it keeps me on my toes."

"Understood General. I guess I'll be here for about three months then?"

"Yes, Captain Rodgers. After that time is up you will be reassessed and given further treatment if needed. At that time if you are deemed fit physically then you will become Mr. Rodgers."

"Thank you, sir. Where to next?"

Through the office to your left, and get your housing settled. Then report here Monday morning at 0730. You will be working on mostly your recovery, but you will also be working to achieve the level you were at before you were injured. It will be so physical that you will learn to hate the routine. But, with all the hard work you will be doing the work will pay off in the long run. We are here to help you reach that level of strength. Any questions Captain?"

"No, sir! I looking forward to this."

"Right answer Captain. Check in on Monday. Someone will take good care of you."

"Yes, sir. Good night."

"Good night Captain."

Xx

14MAY02 0750
North Atlantic Regional Medical Command
Walter Reed General Hospital
Washington, DC Therapy Room 217

"RODGERS, PUSH YOURSELF HARDER!"

"I AM! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT!"

"NO, YOUR NOT! WE SHOULD BE PAST THIS PART OF THE PT BY NOW!

Rick just looked into the eyes of the former Army drill sergeant with nothing but pure hatred. He knew that he was being pushed and way past his limits. There were many times after this had started over a month ago that he felt more pain than the day of the injury itself. But the son of a bitch kept pushing him and yelling. He could not stand the yelling. He knew that it was a tactic to drive him, but he still hated it. And he hated the whole process. It takes him about a day to feel well enough to get up out of bed and make it through the day and the next day he's back at it all over again.

"Don't look at me like that Rodgers! You do want to walk without a limp when your eighty right?"

He knows the answer and then it all comes rushing back to his mind once again. He started to feel sorry for himself when he barely made it through the first week. He made the comment that went something like What does doing this PT matter now? I'll probably be walking with this damn limp when I'm eighty! As he thinks back to the comment, it was a mistake on two levels. The first being that the drill sergeant used this comment to throw back in his face when he started to think about quitting and has been doing so ever since. The second mistake was that he really does not want to be walking with a limp when he's eighty. If he lives through this PT that is.

"Of course I don't!" Rick answers back.

"Well, get to it then. You've only just started to scratch the surface with the leg press set at 50 pounds. If you can do this consistently then the next step is a goal of 100 pounds. And I know you can do it, I see it in your eyes the determination and drive. Yeah, it's there just tap into it and show me damn it!"

Rick grips the handles at the bottom of the seat and pushes with every muscle in his body. He needs to complete another ten more reps before he can finish this part of his PT. The drill sergeant looks on hoping that he can make it through the next ten.

Eight ….. nine…ten!

The leg press slams down into its base and the drill sergeant looks at Rick with a look that says, I knew you could do it! And then slaps him on the shoulder.

"Let's take a break before the next routine Rodgers." His tormentor tells him.

They head to the small lounge for a glass of juice. Rick pours a glass of apple for himself and a glass of orange for his tormentor. He hands it to him and they sit at the table to drink them. This is common when he's about to give up, and it gives him a little clarity to continue on.

"So, Rodgers anything on the horizon for you when you're sprung from here?"

Rick finds it odd because they never talk about anything outside of the PT he's going through now. This is new but he maybe he's starting to see more to this DI than meets the eye. So, he tells him his plans for when he is done with this.

"I might have a position with the CIA. But I need to finish this first. If I get through this then they will make a recommendation. This, Rick waves his hand around the room, and it all depends on me."

"IF Rodgers? You better mean when! You'll do just fine if you keep at it. Think of nothing else but walking out of here tall and proud."

"I know and I will."

"Alright then, let's get started on the next exercise. You ready?"

"Yes."

They place their empty glasses in the sink and walk back out to the fitness room. As he walks he knows that this next exercise will be a little easier on him and then he has another tough one when he's done with this. Then he's in the whirlpool for an hour before he leaves.

Xx

30APR02
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
Office of George Tenet Director of Central Intelligence

"General Rodgers, it's good to see you. George Trent tells him.

"Mr. Trent, it's good to be seen."

With the pleasantries out of the way now they can talk.

"So Jackson, why the change in professions?"

"George, I'm keeping a promise I made. Nothing more nothing less."

"Should I doubt your commitment to the agency if the promise you made isn't kept?"

"George, no matter what happens, I'll in all probability I'm either dying on the job or retiring from it, that will be the outcome here."

"Good to know Jackson from your service record, I won't doubt your dedication. Now about your assignment. I know that you have completed the training course that we put all our prospective agents through when you were with the Army. But where I'm going to put you requires additional training. You will be attending more of an academic course versus a physical one. These seminars are important to the mission that you will be a part of."

"And I'm betting that you won't tell me where I'm going, right?"

"On the contrary Jackson, once your training is completed for this unit, you will be assigned to the Counterterrorist Center or CTC for short. I'm still deciding where on the ladder you will be placed but that might need to wait for some time until you are able to become acclimated with your responsibilities of the position."

"That's reasonable George, but I'll be doing my best to show you that I'm here to stay."

"Jackson, the initial training is about four months long and there are monthly, even weekly mandatory updates that the whole unit must attend depending on the intel we receive. It is imperative that you be there for these. Major decisions are made and that means all hands." George stresses.

"I'll be there."

"Good. I'm setting you up as a mid-level supervisor. You'll be assigned ten to fifteen operatives from the Counterterrorist Unit. If you service record indicated anything, it tells me that you won't be there for long. Have you settled in yet? Do you have a place to stay?"

"I'm looking at two apartments later today. Then buying the basics. Why?"

"Take the next three days getting yourself setup. I'll schedule the course for you to attend starting on the 6th of May. Eight am and don't be late. The first two weeks are in this building. Before you go, see personnel and get your paperwork taken care of and get your ID card. You need to go to the range and qualify but I'm sure that this won't be an issue. Make sure that's done before you start the class. If I remember you are a Sig-Sauer kind of man?"

"I am. Personally, I carry a P-320. What does the agency require?"

"Analysts do not carry anything. Agents attached to this building and others around the country are authorized to carry a Sig P229. Operatives in the field have their choice of weapons, but most stick with the Sig."

"If you're okay with it, I'd like to keep using my Sig P-320. I comfortable with it and it is a Sig after all."

"As long as you qualify with it, then that will be fine. Any other concerns?" George asks.

"At the moment no. But I know that there will be more to deal with later."

Jackson, get yourself settled in. Remember eight am on Monday."

"Got it and thanks."

Jackson gets up, shakes his hand and sets his mind on his next task. Personnel.

Xx

12JUN02 0943
North Atlantic Regional Medical Command
Walter Reed General Hospital
Washington, DC Therapy Room 205

Comfort! He was in heaven. The whirlpool jets were hitting just at the right angle to dull the throbbing he had endured only ten minutes ago. This comfort would be short lived though. His day started off with a four-mile hike on the treadmill and it was a newer type of machine. Instead of just being on a flat even surface, he was on one of the newest machines the hospital had. It could simulate an incline or a drop-off. At first, this was harder but after a week he welcomed the challenge and really looked forward to this.

"Outstanding job Rodgers!" This was his memory of the DI that he hated so much. But that too had changed. They talked a lot over juice and coffee during the second phase of his PT. He had come to respect the DI knowing that he was only doing his job to get him better. They never talked about his family and Rick could tell that this was a subject that was strictly off limits and never did. They did talk about his time in the Army and his father. As it turns out he served with his father in Viet Nam and was not surprised that his father was a General now. His DI had expected nothing less from the man. He knew that he would go far in the Army. They talked about his possible job with the CIA and he told him to watch his back. He knew of operations that the CIA had directed and did not turn out favorably for the operatives who were there and then were left high and dry by the agency. Rick melted into the whirlpool and enjoyed it. His time was almost about up and decided to cut the last five minutes short to get ready for the next exercise. After drying off and changing, he found the DI waiting for him.

"Rodgers, this afternoon we are going to try something new. You've been taking the four-mile hike like a fish to water. Good job. But now I'm going to give you a full pack, minus the weapon of course and you're going to give me an eight-mile hike in full gear. Think you can handle it?"

"Bring it on!" Rick answered back.

The DI smiled and retrieved the full field pack and handed it to him. Within minutes Rick had the pack on and had already hiked a half mile. He was determined.

With the hike finished Rick was now working with the free weights. But he was not working the part of his body that was injured. He was working his whole body and as he was doing this he was losing weight and toning his other muscle groups. He was feeling better but he was not there yet. But he would get to the finish line that was only a short month away.

His dad had visited him at his quarters and they had talked. It was then that he found out that he was working for the CIA and he was a part of the Counterterrorist Center. He was intrigued by his dad's new position. He had heard about the CTC but never read about what they did. He had also found out that his dad was going through more training and thought it was quite amusing. He was a General in the Army, and even he was required to take a class to become more adept to the agency's unit. He had told his mother how he was doing and what was going on with his possible future. She was neutral in his decision either way. His visit was a short one due to the fact that he needed to get back to his new apartment and be present when the deliveries he had planned had arrived.

Rick was working on his last exercise of the day. The last part of his day before going back into the whirlpool for an hour was what he called "The Rack". The DI would only leave him in the capable hands of the PT therapist who was assigned to this treatment. He walked over, looked into the room hoping the Tech was not there so he could leave earlier, but he had no such luck. He was waiting with a sly smile on his face. He always thought the man really loved what he did for a living, causing him grief.

Lying on the table the tech placed him in the position to give him the best relief. His shoulders were placed in a harness that went around his arms to provide a pulling point. His chest and upper thighs were wrapped in a belt that would be secured to the table, keeping him still. At the end of the table, another harness was wrapped around his lower thighs right above his kneecaps. Attached to this were two cables spooled to a crank that was used to stretch his spine. For the time he spent on the rack it helped his spine. About every ten days he'd feel pain from his injuries and the vigorous workouts and his discs had compressed. The only drawback was that this had taken about two hours to complete.

26JUL02 1600
North Atlantic Regional Medical Command
Walter Reed General Hospital
Washington, DC

"Rodgers! Get your ass over here now, the Major General doesn't have all day to wait on you!

Rick was still trying to get his tie straight on his uniform but having no luck at all. His uniform was a bit tighter in the chest and little relaxed around his abs making the tie fall just right was impossible. He walked strongly right up to the Major General and said,

"Captain Rodgers reporting as ordered sir."

The Major General walked around Rick noticing every little detail. Coming back to him face to face he said,

"Parade rest Captain! I'm here today to commend you on two milestones that you have attained during your time with us. The first one is that you are back to 100% physically and you are now classified fit for duty. The next announcement is direct from the President of the United States, and I now state,

The Army of The United States of America

Certificate of Promotion

This acknowledges that on this the 26th day of July in the year 2002, the President of the United States of America by Congressional Order has appointed the following commissioned Army Officer to the permanent rank of Major 0-4.
Major Richard A. Rodgers

"Congratulations Major." The Major General says.

Rick who had snapped a salute to the Major General waits to be acknowledged. And the Major General returns his salute with one of his own.

"Major, are you at a loss for words?"

"Sir, I never expected this. But it is very much appreciated."

"Major, I'm afraid there is more news and you know what's coming next. As of 1700 hours today you are being honorably discharged. You will retain your new rank for benefits and pay purposes. But I'm afraid this is where we part company. It has been a pleasure, Major."

"No sir, the pleasure was all mine. Thank you for everything you have done for me."

They both exchange salutes and brisk handshakes then the Major General walks off. The Drill Sergeant steps forward and produces a salute that would break his arm. Rick returns the salute just as fast.

"Major Rodgers, I'll miss our time together. You're okay in my book."

"Likewise Sergeant Major Lynch. I don't know how I was able to do this without anyone like you."

"Is that an insult sir?" The callous DI returns back with the start of a grin.

"NOT AT ALL DRILL SERGEANT, SIR"

"I thought not. Good Luck Rick. The salute returns and Rick performs his last act of military service, he returns the Drill Instructors salute and says,

"Thanks for everything, John."

The drill sergeant gives him an all-knowing look and does an about face and walks away.

During the next hour, Rick is quietly relieved of everything he once held close in his heart. Outside of the personnel office, he stares at the temporary orders and his DD214 he was given to allow him to leave the base. Just as he turns to leave he sees someone he knows very well.

"Hey, dad." Rick greets him sadly.

"Richard, don't look so down, I'll bet there's something new and exciting waiting for you right around the corner. Just then Owens and Harrison walk in from the left and stop.

"Mr. Rodgers, are you ready for the next step in your life?" Owens asks.

"I think I am."

Together the four of them start to walk to Jackson's car and wonder what is in store for them next….

Xx

Saturday, January 9th, 1999 8:35 PM
Rubirosa Italian Restaurant
235 Mulberry St, New York, NY

"Katie I think that your mother has completely overlooked our dinner together tonight. She's probably still hard at work at her desk." Jim contentedly remarks to his daughter.

"Dad, you know that she needs to be reminded about important social engagements. But it's getting really late and I wonder what has her so involved that she can't even call."

"Katie, you know your mother, once she starts something she has a hard time stopping what she's doing. That's one of the things I love about her."

"Dad it's almost nine, she's close to two hours late, why don't we head back home maybe she's there and forgot to call us."

"You might be right. Let me pay for our breadsticks and wine and we'll go home.

Xx

Saturday, January 9th, 1999 9:43 PM
James and Johanna Beckett's residence
36 Summer Street, Forest Hills, Queens

"Katie, you check her office and I'll check upstairs."

"Okay, Dad." On the way to her mother's office, there is a loud knocking at the front door. She abandons her route to her mother's office and instead turns to answer the front door. When she swings the door open she is met by a man in a wrinkled suit and two NYPD officers standing behind him.

"Is a Mr. James Beckett home?" The man in the suit asks.

"He is, let me get him." Kate has a bad feeling about this. She walks over to the staircase and calls out softly for her dad. He comes down the stairs in a rush almost knocking her over in the process. She falls in place behind him and listens as the man asked if he might be able to come in. Her dad invites him in and the three of them walk over to the dining room table.

Raglan having done this many a time before braces himself before he starts. He knows that he will need it. But something keeps nagging at him about the location she was found in.

"Mr. Beckett, my name is Detective John Raglan. I work out of the 12th precinct in Manhattan. We were called to a crime scene earlier tonight and I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your wife was murdered tonight."

Jim just stood there, he could hear anything but his own pounding heartbeat in his ears. He just stared at the man who sat across from him not believing the news he was just told. It wasn't until his daughter called to him in the most distant of voices he had ever heard from her saying only one word.

"Daddy….."

A/N 2: While the military procedure might be somewhat accurate, the promotion scene when Rick became a Major was written totally from research. I apologize in advance to all past and current military personnel if is not the proper procedure for this ceremony.