1320 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
Mac had been acting strange, even distant, since she returned to Harm's apartment after her final run in with Sadik. She had only been back to her apartment a few times to pick up clothes or mail, but had been spending most of her time at Harm's until her maternity leave was up. Not that things were progressing between them, the distance and detachment were driving him crazy. He'd requested she go talk to someone, he didn't particularly care who, since she refused to speak about the incident to him, further than the initial details she'd revealed that night. They were arguing often, the arguments were becoming circular, and nothing ever seemed to come of them, good or bad.
Now that she was back to work, her quick temper and flippancy at times were alienating some co-workers, and frustrating others. When the admiral called both Harm and Mac into his office, she was in another of her moods, fidgety and insolent.
"Corporal Hal Strange, United States Marine Corps. Served in Panama during Operation Just Cause, then went out on disability retirement a year later after separating his shoulder."
"Just Cause? That was the mission to capture Noriega, wasn't it?" Harm glanced momentarily at Mac, noting her still restlessly looking around, biting her lip nervously, and not paying much attention to AJ's summary of the case.
"The SECNAV has authorized this court-martial. Corporal Strange will be brought back on active duty and charged with an Article 134 violation, wearing an unauthorized decoration and in this case, on a uniform he was also unauthorized to wear. Seems he bought a Silver Star medal and ribbon at an Army/Navy store, dummied the citation to make himself into a hero. He's been wearing his uniform in violation of regulations and bilking schools and civic groups out of speaking fees for nearly a decade."
"Shouldn't take long to sort this one out, sir," the former SEAL was surprised at the out of character outburst of his Chief of Staff.
"Well, I'm glad you feel that way, Colonel 'cause you'll be defending the man."
"Bring it on."
"He's currently free on his own recognizance and will be in later today to meet with you."
"Great."
"Don't take this lightly, Colonel. Corporal Strange's actions have been a major embarrassment to the Marine Corps..."
"I'm clear, sir."
"Colonel, would you please stop interrupting me? You're worse than Coates."
"I'm sorry, sir. I'll get right on it. Will that be all?"
"No, that will not be all."
"Commander, you'll prosecute."
"Aye, sir."
"Now you're dismissed."
"Aye, aye, sir."
She snapped to and was out of the office like a jet off a deck's catapult, leaving a stunned Harm, and a now irritated Admiral in her wake.
Not long after leaving Admiral Chegwidden's office, Mac had her client in her office. She really just wanted this to get over with quick and easy, contemplating just throwing him to the wolves and taking the first plea agreement offered. She decided about a half second after he swaggered into her office that she did not like this smug, arrogant Corporal.
"Prosecution has copies of the citation you forged, pictures of you wearing your bogus uniform and medal, and newspaper articles quoting your claims that you performed duty above and beyond the call when we both know that's not true," she recited, looking over the list of evidence, then placing it back in its file folder and dropping it brusquely on a file cabinet.
"Whose side did you say you were on... Ma'am?" he looked at her certain she was going to throw him under the bus.
"Yours, Corporal. That's why I'm advising you to change your plea to guilty."
"There's only one problem with that, Colonel. I deserved that medal."
"Marine Corps has no record of it."
"That doesn't mean it didn't happen, ma'am. Now, I know you've never served in combat, and I doubt you've ever had to kill anyone."
This was not going to go over well. She refused to make eye contact for a few moments, irritated at his sanctimonious assumptions.
"My history is irrelevant. This meeting is about you."
"Maybe you have, Colonel. Had to kill. Maybe more than once," his step forward and continued assumptions were provoking some rather irrationally violent thoughts, thoughts that made her feel very uncomfortable being in the same room as... Well, any human being.
Pushing the thoughts out of her mind, she strode past him and opened the office door, indicating the end of their meeting, "I've given you my legal advice. Call me when you've made your decision."
"Did you get a medal for it, Colonel? The killing? Don't you think you deserved one?"
Avoiding his eyes, she continued standing still and silent as a statue. After a few uncomfortable moments, the corporal finally backed down and left, the door slamming behind him. She snapped her blinds shut, needing a time to calm down, before facing the world again. Her turbulent moods and impulses were beginning to worry her, too. The last week or so had her on a steep spiral of recklessness and irrationality, which was completely out of character for her.
That night, she'd gone back to her apartment for the first time in close to a week. It seemed almost strange. Sterile. There was scant evidence that someone, let alone two people, lived there. No pictures, no law books or folders of trial documents, none of the few things she'd allowed herself buy that might visually indicate the presence of an infant. Most of his things stayed at Harm's loft, since they spent the majority of their time there after the birth. It was a further commute to work for her, but it was easier for them all to be together, and Mattie needed Harm to be near, so that decided it. Sadik Fahd breaking into her apartment had been just another nail in the coffin, how could she feel safe living, and allowing her child to live, in a place that had been broken into and ransacked so many times?
If it hadn't been for her ludicrous behavior lately, she might have felt more sure about just letting it go. As things were now, she wasn't all that sure Harm would want to live with her and her bizarre outbursts and volatile moods for much longer. She even recognized how ridiculously she was acting, but couldn't seem to help herself. At first, Harm was amused by her lack of inhibition, then it began to frustrate him, now... Now they fought like cats and dogs about everything and nothing. Whatever 'this' was, she needed to get over it and fast, or she could lose everything.
Sorting through the pile of mail that she let accumulate in her mailbox, she dropped the junk mail and unimportant correspondences onto the table next to her bed with probably too much force, still irritated at herself, upsetting a glass of water she'd put there far too long ago. She watched in seemingly slow motion tip over and break as it tumbled from the table and ricocheted off the metal frame of her bed. Cursing under her breath, she picked up the largest piece and in the process cut her hand on another shard next to it.
"Great," she thought, as she stood up, heading to the bathroom for a bandage, "Just add to my misery, why don't you?"
1430 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
Admiral Chegwidden called Mac into his office first thing, after the morning staff meeting, to talk about the progress she was making on the Strange case. When she reported that the corporal refused to admit to his guilt in the matter or accept a deal, he sighed. She hadn't been making his life easy lately, and this case going to trial would just be another pain adding to the headache he already felt coming on.
He stood from the fireplace he'd just finished stoking, and faced his Chief of Staff, "What happened to a pretrial agreement?"
Mac stood close to the door, intending on briefing the admiral quickly, then getting back to the mountain of work on her desk, "Corporal Strange isn't interested, sir. He wants a trial to air his grievances against the Marine Corps. He-he says he's never lied about his exploits in Panama. Claims his unit wouldn't vouch for him."
Taking a seat in one of his visitors' chairs, he continued, "So now you think he's telling the truth?"
"PFC Wallis did suffer a compound leg fracture outside the Arraijan Tank Farm in 1989. A Lance Corporal Petrosian was treated for a through-and-through shoulder wound the same night," she gestured to her own body, indicating the area of the lance corporal's injury with her bandaged hand.
He followed her movements, noticing her injury only after she brought her hand up to her shoulder, "What happened to your hand?"
Embarrassed about the silly reason for her wound, she hid it behind her back, "Uh, it's nothing, sir."
"Why the sudden about-face with Corporal Strange?"
"He feels his actions were meritorious and he's being treated unfairly," she insisted, "I think he may be right."
"Not like you to believe an unsubstantiated story like this."
She was becoming frustrated with the seemingly endless questions from the admiral, both about her client and her personal business. Without thinking, she spit out, "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."
"Maybe you came back to work too soon, Colonel," he fired back. Seeing her begin to shut him down, he started again in a different tone, "Mac... Been through hell of a lot."
Despite his change in tone, she was still wound up, "By 'a lot', you mean I had to kill the bad guy Like Marines are supposed to do. It's nothing I haven't had to do before, sir."
"Marines need some down time just like-"
"Admiral, I take great solace in the fact that I helped Sadik Fahd attain the martyrdom he so deeply desired. And I'm sure I'll be getting a fruit basket any day now from the White House for getting rid of an international terrorist of his caliber," she cut him off with intense sarcasm, displaying unintentionally to her commanding officer just how much killing the terrorist had gotten to her.
"You're dismissed."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Later that morning, the trial began, with Harm calling the teacher who hired CPL Strange to speak to the stand, "Mr. Whorley, how did you meet Corporal Strange?"
"I saw his advertisement in the school district newsletter. He said he'd been a combat veteran of the Panama Crisis who'd been awarded the Silver Star."
Whorley was a small, scrawny man. Balding and nasal, just his listening to the man talk was like nails on a chalkboard, she couldn't help thinking to herself.
"What was his lecture fee, based on the qualifications he claimed to have?" Harm continued his line of questioning.
"Two hundred dollars. I thought it would be worth it for the kids to hear a man who'd proved his patriotism. Little did I know, the guy was just a traitor to the Marine Corps and to his country," Whorley shot a flaming look at CPL Strange.
"Objection, opinion and inflammatory," Mac rattled off without even needing to think about it.
"Sustained."
Harm stepped back from the stand, "No further questions, Your Honor."
Mac stood to address the mousy looking man, "Mr. Whorley, what happened to your hand?"
"I was playing Polonius. I'm the drama teacher, and I fell it's just a hairline fracture."
"Now is it true that you attempted to join the Marine Corps in 1984?"
"Yes. Um, I couldn't pass the physical."
"And you've had a love/hate relationship with those who did pass the physical ever since isn't that also true?"
"Is Defense Counsel reading minds now, Your Honor?" Harm objected, standing up.
Judge Blakely warned Mac, "Stay out of the witness's head, Colonel."
"Yes, Your Honor," she turned back to Whorley, "You have flat feet and a spastic colon, don't you, Mr. Whorley?"
Harm was incredulous, "What?! Irrelevant, Your Honor."
"I agree. Sustained."
"So, how is it that you got a close enough look at Corporal Strange's medal to realize that it wasn't really his?"
"Um when he was preparing his notes, I took it out of the box. Just wanted to, uh... See what it looked like on me."
"You wanted to play Marine war hero, is that it? You're just a jarhead groupie, and I think you enjoyed bringing a real Marine to his knees!"
"Your Honor, Defense Counsel is attacking my witness," Harm once again objected.
"Sustained! Colonel Mackenzie, I will hold you in contempt! The witness may step down. This court is in recess."
After a brief reaming from Colonel Blakely, Mac was able to leave his chambers feeling thoroughly chastised. She made her way to her office, picking up her outer garments and shutting everything down for the night. She was done for the night and ready to go home, climb into bed, cuddle with her son, and forget the entire day ever happened. Just as she was leaving her office, Harm strolled up, looking like he was making his exit as well.
"Can I walk you out, Tiger?" he tried to make a joke, but only ended up making her feel more angry at herself.
"I don't know what happened in there. I started questioning him, and I just lost it."
"Well, your client doesn't seem to mind."
"My client has a chip on his shoulder."
"Colonel," Damn, "My office."
She prepared herself for the dressing down of a lifetime. She knew he'd just about had it with her behavior, she just couldn't seem to keep it in check, "Yes, sir."
Bud appeared suddenly, emerging from his office looking lost and extremely nervous.
Perplexed by his odd activities, Harm decided to just ask him, "Everything okay, Bud?"
"Everything's great, sir. Have a good night."
'Too easy,' he thought. But he had plans to supervise dinner with Mattie that night, and didn't have the time nor the interest to continue dealing with the bizarre deeds of all of his colleagues, so he just gave up right out of the gate, "Good night."
The tone was significantly more serious in AJ Chegwidden's office. He hated having to yell at his staff, least of all his senior staff who should definitely know better, "What the hell happened to you in the courtroom today?"
" I'm sorry, sir."
She seemed to genuinely mean it, but unfortunately, that wasn't enough, "Sorry doesn't cut it."
"I'll write a letter of apology to Judge Blakely and Mr. Whorley," she offered.
"Oh, you'll do better than that. Bethesda has an excellent psychology department. You will make yourself available."
She was suddenly on the defensive, "You think I need a shrink?"
"Tone, Colonel," he warned.
"Sorry, sir, but I feel fine."
"You're trying to pretend that you didn't just go through hell, and you're doing a damn awful job of it!"
"You think I'm in denial?"
"I'm not a expert in the field, Colonel. That's why I'm sending you to Bethesda."
Her anger at the situation had her seeing red and beginning to speak belligerently, "That's hardly fair, sir, given your recent behavior: denying your own broken heart."
A mask of fury descended on the old man's face, "Lock it up, Marine. If I didn't have as much respect for you as I do, that insubordination would go on your permanent record. Now, you will get your butt to that shrink before you exhaust what's left of my charitable nature. Dismissed."
"Aye, aye, sir."
She stormed out of the office, still fuming, slamming her car door and screeching out of the parking lot. She figured she would stop home to change and then go pay Webb a visit, fill him in on the details of Sadik's demise, before picking her son up from the sitter. With Harm as opposing council and the visit with Mattie's father that night, it was silently agreed that they would stay at their own homes until the conclusion.
The night Harm was having wasn't playing out well, either. Mattie felt awkward about "kicking Mac and the baby out for something stupid," as she put it, though Harm reassured her that that wasn't the case. After no more than five words being said between Mattie and her father the entire evening, Harm tried to start up a conversation.
"Uh M-M-Mattie, why don't you tell your dad about your new school?"
" I'm going to school," she said flatly.
Happy that the stiflingly heavy silence was finally being broken, Tom answered eagerly, "Oh, how-how is it?"
" It's fine," was all she said.
Harm tried again, "Mattie made the volleyball team."
"Oh, that's great," Tom praised, pulling a cigarette out of his breast pocket and putting it to his lips.
Mattie was out of her chair in an instant, swooping in to chastise her father, "What are you doing?! Harm has a nice place here. Doesn't want you smoking it up."
"Mattie, it's okay," Harm tried to comfort the girl.
Embarrassed, Tom plucked the cigarette from his mouth, "Oh, I'm-I'm sorry."
Trying to keep the peace, Harm insisted, "No, no, I-it's fine, Tom."
Mattie sat down, sneering, "You're always sorry, aren't you? I'm so embarrassed."
Pausing for a second, Tom then stood up, "I should go."
"No, uh, Tom, please," Harm stood up as well, trying to put out the fire between father and daughter.
Mattie continued in a mocking tone, "Yeah. Thanks for the pizza."
"No, I don't, uh I don't want to make things worse."
"Well, look, Tom, at least l-let me drive you back to the center, all right?" Harm proposed.
He waved Harm off, "No, it's okay. I'll-I'll take the train."
"Come on, Tom, look, I'd-I'd appreciate it if you'd let me give you a ride," Harm continued to insist.
"Thank you. I'll just, um... Wait outside for you," he held up the cigarette to indicate his desire to smoke before they departed.
Well, that wasn't very nice," Harm pivoted to look at the sulking teenager.
"I told you he couldn't behave himself."
"I was talking about you, Mattie. You always overreact like that with your dad?"
"You're obviously taking his side because you think that if I kiss and make up with him, I can just go back there and live with him. Then you can go live full time with Mac and have your perfect family," she protested.
"That's not true, and you know it. Mattie, there are no sides to this. You are as much my family as they are, just like your dad is yours. You're his daughter, and whether you realize it or not, one day, you're going to regret pushing him out of your life."
"You know something, Harm? Sometimes I think I was happier before I met you," she ran out of his apartment petulantly.
CLAYTON WEBB'S CONDO
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
Clay was just sitting down to relax with a glass of wine and a classic novel when a loud knock sounded at his door. He opened the door to find the woman he hadn't seen since shortly after their mission in Paraguay ended, months ago. Sarah MacKenzie leaned against the door frame in an almost seductive manner, wearing jeans and a button up shirt with only about half of the buttons fastened.
"Aren't you going to let me in?" when he let her pass, she meandered around the room, marveling at the little details, drinking in the information Clayton's home imparted, " You like shadows, don't you, Clay? You work in them, you live in them..."
" Well, I prefer to call it ambiance-" he was cut off by her sudden turn, then her lips were on his. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck, holding her to him, the other still occupied with his glass.
She tasted his lips, musing aloud, " Mm, I haven't tasted wine in a long time."
Continuing to kiss him, despite the small amount of protest he put up, she began unbuttoning the agent's shirt, kissing his neck.
"Sarah," he tried to get her attention, slowly losing the will to stop her.
" Mm-hmm?" she responded, keeping her lips in contact with his exposed clavicle.
He leaned to the side, putting his wine glass down before grabbing her arms to push her back, "Sarah! This isn't you."
"Oh, yeah? Who am I?" she was suddenly furious, mocking him as she shoved his steadying hands off of her.
"Uh, normally, you're... Reasonable, composed... In control of yourself," he illustrated, emphasizing the impulsiveness of her actions.
She walked over to his fireplace, then suddenly changed directions, coming back to stand in front of Clay, "You ever think that, as a Marine, I've trained to handle difficult things?"
"Some of the best people I know, Marines and otherwise, have been strong enough to ask for help," he took a short sip out of his glass and placed it back on the table.
She paced like a caged animal, "What, are you and Chegwidden comparing notes now? You both think I need a shrink?"
"Maybe we both see the same thing... And we both care about you."
"Did you talk to someone after Paraguay?"
" A debriefing with an Agency psychologist is SOP."
"Oh, and is that why you travel with a bottle? Cana, a reminder of the worst thing that ever happened to you. Did you, uh, tell your counselor about your desire to do penance?" she resumed her attempt to strip Clayton of his shirt.
He grabbed her hands, stopping her again, "A lot happened on that mission. I felt guilty for putting you in danger. I was mad at myself for letting Sadik get his hands on me and for letting him get away. I failed to complete my assignment."
"Oh, that's right. I had to do it for you just last week... And you can't stand that," she fought him for a minute, trying to kiss him again.
"Sarah, go home and get some rest," he insisted.
"You can't just dismiss me, Clay. I'm not one of your field assets hanging on your every order," she recommenced her exploration of his condo, " Things, places... You don't have a single picture of a human being in here. I guess people, with all of their inconvenient emotions are just too challenging for you. Things get a little sticky, and you're showing me the door?"
Her antagonizing was getting him angry, "Says the woman who hasn't had one consistent relationship in her entire life oh, I forgot. You have Harm. Why are you throwing yourself at me, when you have him waiting for you at home? Didn't you just give birth to his child?"
"You don't know anything about them," suddenly defensive, her claws were beginning to retract.
"I know that his being unavailable has given you something to hide behind," she squared her jaw, ready to punch him in his when he began back-pedaling, "I didn't mean that."
He began having second thoughts, so he strode over to her, and attempted to touch her, "Yes, you did. Don't touch me."
"Oh, come on. I thought I thought that's why you came 'cause you wanted me to touch you. See, I've been stupid enough to think that you liked the feeling of my hands on you, Sarah," he goaded her.
She took his hands and shoved him back hard, making her way to the door, "Think what you want just get out of my way.
"Well, come on, it's taken us eight months to get this far. You're going to You're ready to throw it away in one night?" he stepped in front of her, blocking her way to the door.
"This far? Just where are we, Webb, and what am I throwing away?!" she looked at him skeptically.
" Our shot at happiness, Sarah?" was all he replied.
"You don't have what it takes to make me happy," she responded with a deadly tone, then walking around him, opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.
Mac drove to the sitter, thanking her and handing her payment, then rushing out. Once home, she started a shower, undressing herself and the baby and stepping in to wash the day off of both of them. She kept having flashes of Clayton Webb's exposed skin, her lips pressed to him, tongue gliding across hard planes, teeth scraping the softer areas of his shoulder... Finishing washing, she stepped out feeling more disgusted than when she entered. She felt guilty for trying to sleep with the spy instead of just delivering news to him and leaving as planned. What was she thinking? She wasted precious time that she could have spent with her child on folly, on a man she didn't even come close to loving. When Harm would probably drop whatever he was doing with a moment's notice to have her again.
The baby's happy cooing brought her out of her miserable reverie. She looked into his eyes for a few lingering seconds before shifting her gaze, he had his father's eyes, and she couldn't bear to look at them out of shame. What had she done?
1245 ZULU
NAVAL HOSPITAL
BETHESDA, MARYLAND
"Why are you here, Colonel?" Lieutenant Commander Vera McCool asked Mac.
" My CO suggested it."
"Suggested it or insisted on it?"
Mac sat on a tan sofa, facing the petite, chocolate skinned psychologist, "The latter. My significant other made a similar request."
"Why do you think they did that?
"I've been anxious. It just think the world around me isn't moving fast enough to keep up with me," she fiddled with her hands, not making eye contact.
McCool consulted a file, reading a few lines before closing it again, "You were involved in a hostage situation recently."
"Is that what my file says?" Mac bit her lip, finally looking up.
"I'll be honest, Colonel, since this case is still under investigation by the CIA, most of what I'd need to know to help you is classified."
"Well, let me enlighten you, Commander. A very bad man tried to lure me into a trap." she flashed back to Sadik in the hookah bar, holding a gun on her, "But I'd learned my lesson. I knew him before, so I wore a wire. I tipped the Feds off to a terrorist bombing, and I walked away in one piece. I killed a man who under interrogation could have given us half the players on the Fed's terrorist watch list."
"You said you knew this man?"
"He tried to kill me before."
"You know, when people consume your time and mental energy, for better or worse, they become part of our psyche. Killing this man may have left a hole in your subconscious. He invoked fear in you. Now that the fear is gone, the exhilaration of keeping one step ahead of him is gone."
"You think I miss the bastard?" she almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the notion.
"It's possible that you miss the rush of rehearsing the confrontation that you thought was inevitable. That's why your reaction to his death wasn't satisfaction, but continued aggressive behavior. Unless there's more to the story, something else from your past you'd like to talk about."
Mac just stared mutely at the doctor. She was now entirely convinced that this out of the way excursion was an utter waste of her time.
That afternoon found her in court, questioning Corporal Strange. He felt testifying would help his case, as well as enable him to publicly call out his unit members.
"Corporal Strange, can you explain the term "medal inflation" to the court?" Mac stood from behind the defense table and approached the witness stand.
" Yes, ma'am. It's when a high percentage of the participants in a combat situation are awarded medals."
"Such as was the case following the Panama Crisis."
"That's correct, ma'am."
Harm didn't want to go down a long road of questions to figure out what Mac was getting at, so he objected, "I fail to see what relevance this has to the charges, Your Honor."
Sighing, Blakely denied his request, "I'll allow it, but take me from "A" to "Z" in a timely manner, Colonel."
"Yes, Your Honor," she continued, turning back to Strange, "And you never received a personal award for your service in Panama, but you know men who did, is that right?"
"Yes, ma'am. I know a corporal who received the Navy Commendation Medal for being a chauffeur, and a gunny who got the Bronze Star for nearly shooting his own foot off in a firefight. Not to mention the Purple Heart awarded to Lance Corporal Petrosian, the man that I personally pulled out of enemy fire."
"All these medals awarded, and yet you were overlooked despite the evidence you provided to support your story?
"I managed to get hold of medical records, ma'am, for Wallis and Petrosian. After the conflict, I even went back to Panama, took pictures of where it happened. I mapped the whole thing out. Still, nobody believed me."
"Your student lectures were the truth, weren't they, Corporal Strange?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And wouldn't you say the truth is worth a $200 speaking fee?"
Harm objected, "Corporal Strange's alleged actions in combat are not the issue, Your Honor."
"Objection sustained, Blakely looked at his watch, "We'll continue after lunch. Court is in recess until 1500."
"Medal inflation?" Harm stood outside of Sturgis Turner's office at the central filing area reading the contents of a folder as Mac walked up to put a folder of her own into the "to file" section of the organizer on top.
"Just giving my client the defense he deserves."
"Come on, Mac, you're arguing everything but the case in there. I mean, you client has shown bad judgment and no sense of responsibility. Doesn't it bother you as a fellow Marine that even when this guy is cornered he still won't own up to making a mistake?"
" Come on, Harm, when was the last time you admitted to being wrong about anything?"
"Oh, you want to get personal?"
"Yeah, maybe I do."
"All right. I'm the one with grown up responsibilities now. Mattie, the house I'm trying to buy. At least I'm finally letting people into my life."
Suddenly uncomfortable with the setting of the conversation and angry that he would insinuate that she had no 'adult' responsibilities, she grabbed his lapel, and dragged him into her office, shutting the door behind them.
"Are you kidding me? You resign your commission with no second thought, fly down to Paraguay to play superhero, get canned by both the navy and the CIA, all while I stay here waiting and worrying, pregnant with your child. Did you forget about him?" she picked up a small frame from her desk containing a picture of their son, thrusting it into his hand, "What happens when you get bored with suburbia, Harm? What happens when you get bored with being a father? Are you going to just lose interest in Mattie or Matt like you did your brother? He preferred life in Russia to being here and being ignored by you. You fight to draw people into your circle just so you can push them away again."
He placed the frame back onto her desk, opening the door before saying in a low voice, "You know, this isn't about me losing interest in the kids. You think I'm losing interest in you."
Back in court, it was Harm's turn to cross-examine the witness, "Corporal Strange, how many times did you petition the Marine Corps to receive the Silver Star?"
"Four times, sir."
"And how many times were you denied that award, Corporal? You know the answer to that already, Commander... Four times."
"Oh, please, tell the court why your attempts to receive the retroactive award were denied on so many occasions?"
"Because my buddies wouldn't back me up about what happened, sir."
"Well, Corporal, isn't it, in fact, because the Marine Corps has no record of your alleged heroism?"
"It's because the guys I saved that night decided I didn't deserve it, Commander, that's why."
"Why would a group of a Marines get together and stonewall a fellow Marine?"
"Because they didn't like me. See, I was a loner. They didn't consider me to be part of their little club."
"Well, Corporal, that's the problem with being a loner," Harm turned around and looked at Mac, seemingly talking to her, "You're always on the outside looking in. You make it impossible to be your friend, and then you wonder why you feel so alone. I have no further questions."
1230 ZULU
NAVAL HOSPITAL
BETHESDA, MARYLAND
"I thought about what you said. That, uh, my aggression was just to fill a void left by the absence of the man I killed," Mac was wandering around the Lieutenant Commander's office, looking at the books and knickknacks on the shelves.
"Do you think I was right?"
"In a way. My childhood was, uh, unpredictable. I was always afraid my father would mistake me for my mother and put his fist through my face. You develop instincts when you live like that.
"You felt the thrill when faced with a man who wanted you dead."
"There's nothing thrilling about it. I went back to thinking I was the only person who could look out for me. Every disagreement became a chance to attack."
"Including your arguments in court."
"Yes, but I'm fine now," Mac reached down to the couch and picked up her overcoat and cover, preparing to leave.
I think there's still more to talk about, don't you? You killed your husband in self-defense, Colonel."
She looked disgusted, "That was a long time ago."
"It was a similar situation."
"No. I cared about my husband, despite his faults. That event was a tragedy. What happened last week was just taking out the garbage. I've satisfied my CO's request that I speak to a counselor. No long term treatment was ever part of the deal, so I think I'm done."
"Very well."
"You know you can always come back anytime you like."
She didn't even look back as she let the door swing shut behind her.
"I thought I thought we were winning, ma'am," Strange was confused, he thought she'd been arguing his case pretty well.
Anxiously pacing, she leaned forward over her desk to talk to him, "You're not winning, legally or karmically."
"Oh, like I give a damn."
"You should. You were a competent Marine. You could have done great things, but your attitude alienated everyone around you. Now I believe that you saved those men, but I can't prove it. I can't get you acquitted on the charges you face, because you're guilty. But if you could provide one eyewitness to what happened, you might earn yourself some leniency among the members."
He shook his head, doubtful, "Petrosian and the others won't-"
"Have you ever asked? Nicely?" Mac handed the corporal a printout with an address and a map, "Buddy Petrosian runs his family's butcher shop in College Park. Here's the address. The rest is up to you. If Petrosian is willing, call me. I can file for a continuance if we need one."
Mac walked CPL Strange to the elevator, "Yes, ma'am."
"Mr. Petrosian, what is the nature of your relationship with Hal Strange?" Mac stood in front of the middle aged butcher, hands behind her back.
"Up until this morning, I'd have said we didn't have one."
"But you did serve in Panama with him, didn't you? We were in the same unit."
"He wasn't a... A nice man, was he?"
"Truth be told, he was a jackass. The man would argue constantly about everything from baseball to politics. He made it clear that the rest of us weren't made of the same stuff that he was."
"Didn't stop him from pulling you out of the line of fire when you were shot by enemy combatants, though, did it?"
"No, ma'am. His clear dislike of me didn't seem to affect his decision to put his own life in danger to save mine. I didn't think we'd get out of there. They had us outnumbered."
"But you did make it, didn't you?"
"Me and Wallis, the others... Hal saved our skins that night."
"Thank you for your honesty. I have nothing further," Mac nodded to the judge before returning to her seat.
Changing places with Mac, Harm stood, adjusting a button on his jacket while beginning his questioning, "Mr. Petrosian, were you ever contacted by Headquarters Marine Corps seeking confirmation of Corporal Strange's claims?"
" Yes," Petrosian affirmed.
"But you didn't make that confirmation. Did you? So were you lying then, or you're lying now?" Harm approached the witness, continuing.
"Your Honor," Mac protested.
"Valid question, Colonel."
"I was lying then, sir. We all were. After they patched me up, I went to thank Corporal Strange. He looked at me like I was dirt under his boots, said I wasn't a real Marine. Said the only reason we found ourselves in that mess was because Wallis was a klutz, and the rest of us were amateurs. Well, I told the other guys. And we decided then never to admit to what had happened that night. I guess Hal is not the only guy who can hold a grudge long past its usefulness. All I ever wanted was an apology for what he said."
"Yeah," Harm glanced back at the Marine Colonel who had been the main occupant of his thoughts for such a long time, " That can go a long way. I have no further questions, Your Honor."
Harm's words elicited a small rueful smile from Mac.
"You can step down, Mr. Petrosian," Colonel Blakely instructed.
Buddy Petrosian paused at the side of the defense table and looked at Hal Strange, "Thank you for what you did."
"Your Honor, I'd like to recall Corporal Strange to the stand."
"So noted, Colonel. I remind the accused that he is still under oath. What impact do you think Mr. Petrosian's testimony should have on the outcome of your case?"
"In terms of the charges I'm facing, ma'am, none," he answered honestly.
"You never meant to sully the image of the Marine Corps, did you, Corporal Strange?"
"No, ma'am."
"You just wanted someone to recognize what you'd been through," she turned to look at Harm, just as he had earlier, letting him know that she wasn't just speaking for the corporal, garnering a small smile in return, " And in your anger, you went about it the wrong way. Isn't that so?"
It is, ma'am. I don't expect to walk out of this a free man. I just hope that in sentencing, my combat actions are considered. And I'll sleep better now. Now that I know they remember."
"The Defense rests, Your Honor."
THAT NIGHT...
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION
Mac sat on Harm's couch, leaning forward with her forearms resting on her thighs, silently contemplating what she was going to say. In the adjacent chair, Harm sat, rocking their peacefully sleeping son
"I know I've been acting like someone I'm not, and I'm sorry for that," she began.
"Well, you weren't alone. You just have to give yourself some time to get over this, Mac. Sadik was a very sadistic and disturbed man. It's not a sign of weakness if you need a while to get over it."
She stopped talking, looking down at her hands, "You were right. That night when you said he was seducing me. Sadik wanted me. I could tell. And I let him look at me, a woman. I didn't cover up. I just took off my coat. And I dared him to look, just to see if he was as pure of thought as he claimed to be. I wanted to prove to myself that he was just like every other man."
"I don't know how to take that."
"Don't you get it? He resisted. He resisted me in a way that I wish I could have resisted temptation my entire life. He made me feel weak."
"It's okay, Mac."
"It's not okay. He did what he intended. He reduced me to someone who acts on impulse, without intellect. He was down when I shot him."
"And armed," he reminded her.
"The Agency doctored the report. He was winged in the shoulder and he couldn't fire at me."
"C'mon Mac, you can never know that for sure."
"Oh, I know what I did. I didn't shoot him because I thought he was going to shoot at me. I killed him for what he was. And because I was angry for what he... Because he hurt someone I love."
"Mac..."
"There's something else. I knew it was wrong and I'm not proud of it, but I just..."
She trailed off and looked up to see an extremely worried look in Harm's eyes.
"I need you to know, because I want us to be able to work through our issues and be able to communicate effectively."
"Mac, just... Can you just say it?" he all but begged.
"The night we caught the Strange case, I went to Webb's condo intending to fill him in on the details of what happened with Sadik. I don't know what I was thinking, but I made a mistake-"
"I don't know if I want to hear you finish whatever it is you're attempting to fess up to," his eyes relaying more than his words let on.
"I didn't sleep with him."
"Does it matter? Mac, we're not in an actual relationship, you made it abundantly clear that you thought it would never work out. We co-parent. We're finally friends again. The last kiss we shared was almost a year ago. We might be sleeping in the same bed most nights, but we're not romantically involved, we've been intimate exactly once, then spent the better part of this year coming to terms with the consequences of that. If you want to pursue Webb, do it. To echo what I said almost a year ago: 'It's your life'."
With that, he stood up, laid the sleeping baby in his swing, and retreated to his bedroom.