Chapter 13:
13:00 ZULU
USS Patrick Henry, 200 miles east of the Korean DMZ
Mac found him where exactly where she knew he would be, on the gangway just abaft of the bridge, overlooking the flight deck. But instead of looking down at the darkened flight deck, his gaze was centered on the stars.
Flight operations had been terminated for the evening as the Enterprise had been tasked with flying the nighttime CAP. Off in the distance, Mac could see her lit up like a beacon on the horizon. She approached her husband, placing her hand gently on his shoulder as she followed his gaze to the brightly starlit sky.
"I haven't seen stars like this since Afghanistan," she offers.
She senses rather than sees that his gaze has shifted and she meets his blue eyes with her own.
"As I remember, we had just settled down for the night to admire them when we almost got our sixes shot out from under us."
Mac allows herself to drift back to that evening. She and Harm had been on foot after the Humvee they were driving had been damaged by anti-personnel mines. The sun had gone down and they had found, what they thought would be a safe place to bed down. After some friendly banter about sharing body heat to fend off the cool desert night, they found themselves cuddled together just like the night they had spent in Appalachia several years before.
"Yeah, just our luck, huh?" she agrees.
They bask in silence for a while, just taking in each other's company.
"I spoke to the Air Boss," he says, after a while. "The COD is due in about forty minutes. I imagine the lights will come on shortly."
"Too bad, I kind of like seeing the night sky like this," she added.
"Before my Dad went MIA, he had taken Mom and I on a cross country vacation. On the way east, we drove by the Grand Canyon and stopped for the night in this little town nearby. The sky was almost as dark as this, you could see the band of the Milky Way as clear as day."
"Just like tonight?"
"Yeah, just like tonight."
Mac gazed back up at the stars, remembering some of what she had been feeling the night they spent in the desert, now over three years ago. She and Harm had righted their relationship several months prior, after she had taken some time to reflect on her failed relationship with Mic, and she was once again drawing closer to him. She was about to bring up their relationship when the attack forced them to run for cover.
"Harm?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever wonder what would have happened that night, in Afghanistan, if we hadn't been in the line of fire?"
When she looked back, she noticed she had his full attention.
"What are you trying to say, Mac?"
"That night, I was…feeling things. Things about you, things about…us. Right then, at that moment everything between us just seemed right. After the attack, it all got crazy and I lost my nerve."
"Are you having regrets, Sarah?"
"A little," she admitted. "Harm, I know there was a reason things happened the way they did and I don't regret being where we are now. It's just…well…we don't know where this conflict is going to wind up and…I'm just missing all the time we could have had together. Does all this make me crazy?"
"No, it doesn't. I felt something that night as well. I could have, no; I should have spoke to you about my own feelings, about…us. But I didn't, and to this day, I don't know why. So no, you're not crazy. Or maybe we were both crazy for not acting on our feelings. Look what it took to get us together."
Around them, the sudden flash of the deck lights illuminate what was a minute ago, pitch black. Mac notices that the runway lights of the angled flight deck and the crew taking their place on the LSO platform.
"I guess the COD is almost here," she says to him.
"About twenty minutes out," he replies. "Are we taking bets on who will step off that aircraft?"
"Up until last year, I would bet my career that it would be Webb, but now, I don't know. You know I haven't seen him since we called things off."
"Are you going to be all right if it is him who shows up?"
Mac knows her husband's interest is not out of jealousy, but real concern for her well being. She also knows how the events following their ill fated exploits in Paraguay had affected him. At the Admiral's Dining Out, Harm had told her that he liked the way Clay had made her happy, but deep inside, she knew her relationship with Webb had pierced his very soul in a way which still brought her shame and guilt. If only he knew how unhappy I really was.
"Seeing him again might kick up some bad memories, Paraguay, Sadik, losing touch with you…"
"Mac, that's all in the past…"
"I know, Harm, but I still feel guilty about it. Maybe I shouldn't but I still do," she laments. "Neither one of us has heard from him, hell, he may not even know we're married. Do you know how awkward this could get?"
"We're talking about Clayton Webb. I'm sure he knows about us by now. To be honest, I was surprised not to see him show up at the hospital last Christmas Eve."
"I did tell Vicky that I would never see him again, maybe I'm getting worked up over nothing."
"It doesn't matter, Mac, if Webb is on the plane, we'll face it together, deal?"
"Deal."
Mac turned her attention back to the sky. The light pollution from the deck illumination had obscured all but the brightest stars, but she spotted the recognition lights of the twin engine COD as it entered the landing pattern by passing perpendicular to the vessel. She pointed almost directly overhead.
"I think that's it," she said to her husband.
They both watched as the aircraft pulled into a left hand turn soon after passing over the ship and began descending on its downwind leg.
"He's turning base now," said Harm, offhandedly, as the COD started to level out and pass by the stern almost a mile out. Mac was still watching the plane when her husband cleared his throat drawing her attention back to him.
"Mac, there is something else I wanted to ask you. I promised Mattie that I would take her back with me to pick up Sarah, and fly her back west, but she insists that I take you instead."
"Harm, bringing your plane out here was something she had been so looking forward to. Why would she want me to take her place?"
"I think she would like us to have some time alone. It's going to take at least three or four days, depending on the winds. Would you talk to her about it the next time she calls?"
"Don't get me wrong, Harm, I'd love to take that trip with you, but I'm going to talk her into not changing her mind. This is something the two of you had planned and I'm not going to take that from her. My only regret is your plane doesn't hold three. Did you call her today?"
"A little while ago," he replied. "That's when she brought this up."
"Any word about her father?"
"Not yet. She's worried, but Mom and Frank are keeping her occupied. So are Harriet and Bud. Jennifer has been spending time with her as well. I told her you would try to call her tomorrow afternoon."
"I miss her, Harm."
"I know, me too."
The rock crushing sound of the COD making its landing jarred their attention back to the flight deck. The plane handlers freed the Grumman Greyhound from the three wire and guided it to the debarkation spot near the island superstructure. Not one, but three men disembarked from the aircraft. One of them was wearing a tan naval overcoat and what looked like Admiral's stars on his shoulder boards. The other two men donned what looked like CIA issue gray overcoats. Mac had only met Deputy Director Kershaw a few times, but she recognized him straight away. What the hell could be important enough to get him out here?
Maybe it was her emotional state, but it was Harm who recognized the third man before she did.
"Webb and his boss," he remarked, dryly. "Why do I get the feeling these two are about to turn our world upside down?"
"I guess we had better get down to the wardroom and find out what they have planned for us now," Mac commented.
On the way to the wardroom Mac and Harm were stopped by the ship's surgeon, Dr, Dixon. After the formalities were exchanged, Dixon handed Mac the results of the battery of tests on the samples.
"I ran the tests twice, ma'am," he began. "When you see the results, you'll understand why."
Mac quickly thumbed through the sheets until she was halfway through the pile. Over her shoulder, Harm was reading along with her.
"Harm, do you see this?"
"This test proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the sample wasn't taken from Lt. Commander Costa."
"Unless he is pregnant," she added.
...
In the wardroom, CIA Deputy Director Kershaw delivered the briefing. Among those in attendance was Harm's boss, Vice Admiral Blackmore and Harm's XO, Commander Keeter. The CAG, the CO and the three JAG lawyers rounded out the assembly. Presiding over the meeting was Vice Admiral Richards, the task force commander.
Mac sat next to her husband and listened as the DDI described the new evidence which the CIA was allowing to be presented to the North Koreans in response to the question of who fired first.
"The tape you are about to see is still considered Top Secret," began Kershaw. "But, at the urging of the administration we have lowered the classification to Level 1. On 7-June-2005, at approximately 03:35Z, real time footage of the air battle in question was recorded by national technical means. Roll the tape please, Clay."
The lights automatically dimmed as the screen came to life. The tape was a display of multiple video captures, each showing a different aircraft in flight. In the lower left corner of each screen was a time index display and aircraft description.
"Each of these video capture screens is displaying each aircraft which was involved in the engagement. At 03:39 and 15 seconds, aircraft number 735, a Chinese built MIG-29, opened fire on the squadron launched from the Patrick Henry, being the first aircraft in the engagement to do so. There is no question, the other side fired first. The President has authorized me to present this to the North Korean delegation, and send them on their way. Captain Ingles, they will be off your ship by tomorrow, midday."
"Not nearly soon enough," piped Ingles.
"Director Kershaw," began Harm. "Will the CIA allow this film to be considered as evidence at the Court Martial of Commanders Skunzia and Costa?"
"We have no objection as long as the records of these proceeding are sealed. The question of allowing it into evidence is of course Admiral Richards's decision."
"I have no objection," replied Richards.
"With all due respect, Admiral," interjected Krennick. "This evidence doesn't completely exonerate the defendants. The matter of whether Lt. Commander Costa was impaired while operating a military aircraft is the primary concern here. The conspiracy charge had nothing to do with who fired first."
"I agree, counselor," replied Richards. "However, the blood and urine screening would never have been pulled had there not been a question of who fired first. I'm going to allow it into evidence. The members will consider whether it is relevant."
"Admiral, if I may interject something here," began Harm.
"Proceed, Captain."
"Thank you, sir. Colonel MacKenzie and I just uncovered some new evidence pertaining to the sample testing and what we found might also be of interest to the CIA." He turned to Mac and indicated for her to continue, "Colonel?"
"As part of preparing a defense for our clients, I asked the ship's Chief Medical Officer to run a series of tests on the samples obtained from Lt. Commander Costa. Part of the scope for testing the sample was to retest the blood type and cross matching, as well as the blood alcohol content. Since DNA analysis was not an available option, at my request, Lt. Commander Dixon performed every other test he had available to him. One of those tests was hormone levels. This is a test normally used to determine pregnancy in a female patient…"
"Where exactly are you going with this, Colonel?" asked Richards.
"Bear with me Admiral, I'm getting there. The test results showed highly elevated levels of estrogen and progesterone, which would be consistent with pregnancy."
"Are you trying to tell me that Commander Costa is…with child?" asked the Admiral, incredulously.
"No, sir," replied Mac. "Since Lt. Commander Michael Costa is a man, these samples obviously didn't come from him. That leaves only one possibility; the samples were exchanged for someone else's, someone who has the same blood type."
Director Kershaw cleared his throat. "Colonel MacKenzie," he began. "Captain Rabb just stated that this information would be of interest to the agency. So far I don't see how."
"After Commander Dixon gave me the test results, I had him pull the both the personnel jacket and medical records for the corpsman who performed the tests. The corpsman in question is Petty Officer First Class Tina Park. A quick review of her medical records shows that she has the same blood type as Lt. Commander Costa."
"Isn't this a bit of a reach, Colonel?" inquired Kershaw.
"Yes, Director, it is, unless you consider Petty Officer Park's family history. She is South Korean, sir, but her paternal grandfather is a citizen of the North. She lived with him until she became a teenager and relocated to the South."
"This is all circumstantial evidence, Colonel," stated Richards.
"It gives us enough evidence to ask for a DNA confirmation on the blood sample which allegedly belongs to Commander Costa, but I suspect we have a more expedient way to prove this. If that blood sample did come from Petty Officer Park, then she is still pregnant. She hasn't been off the ship in six weeks and wouldn't have had the time or opportunity to terminate her pregnancy. A blood test will confirm or discount our suspicions."
"This could confirm something else we've suspected for some time," said Webb, speaking for the first time. "We had some intel reports which indicated there might be sleeper agents embedded in our own, or the South Korean forces. None of these reports had panned out, until now."
Captain Ingles stood and walked over to the growler phone. He picked up the receiver had cranked the handle.
"This is the Captain. Get the Master at Arms on the line." His voice was ice cold and anyone in the room could tell that he wasn't pleased. A few seconds later he continued, "Chief, I want you to assemble a small team. Find and detain Petty Officer Tina Park. She's a corpsman assigned to the medical section. Hold her in the brig until further notice."
...
"Hello Sarah," said Webb, seizing an opportunity to speak with her alone while her husband and Commander Keeter conferred with their boss. I'm not looking forward to this, she thought.
"Hello Clay, it's been a while."
"When you said you needed time, I didn't expect you to run off and marry Rabb, Sarah."
"I never told you I needed time. I told you it was over. And I didn't just run off and marry Harm. I took some time for myself. You know, it was almost a year before I had my head on straight."
"We were good together, Sarah. We would have made a great team."
"That was part of the problem, Clay. We were never a team. If we were, I would have known that you were still alive instead of being led to believe you had drowned off the coast of Indonesia. Do you have any idea how hard that was? Any idea at all?"
"I never meant to hurt you…"
"But you did," she said, interrupting him. "You betrayed my trust, you lied to me." Despite the subject matter, her voice held nothing but empathy. She wanted him to know what she was feeling without being accusatory.
She paused for a moment to calm her voice. She looked over at her husband noticing he was still in deep conversation with his boss. A moment later, she turned her attention back to Clay.
"I've had the chance to evaluate a lot of things in my life. Being alone for a year helped to put things in perspective and I decided that I couldn't live in the covert world that you thrive on. We weren't and we aren't good for each other. You brought out things in me which quite frankly, I don't like about myself. I was playing with fire. If anything, being with you showed me what I didn't want. Please, Clay, don't make this any harder than it has to be, okay?"
"It's strange, that's not what you told me while we were in Paraguay."
"Neither one of us was thinking straight while we were in Paraguay, Clay. To be honest with you I never expected to get out of there alive. Do you even realize how damn lucky we both are?"
"Yeah, lucky that Rabb came riding in on his white horse. That's real lucky," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
"That's not fair, Clay, in fact, that's cruel! You know something else, that's the difference between your would and mine. In your world, if someone gets left out in the cold, well too bad. At least in my world, we don't leave our own to be tortured and killed without a second thought. And if it hadn't been for Harm risking everything he was, and everything he had, you and I would be dead. You owe him your life, and so do I," she snapped back, her voice starting to get louder.
"I loved you, Sarah. I wanted you with me. To be truthful, I already suspected Rabb would follow us down as soon as he learned where you were. I was counting on it. I just had to leave enough clues for him to follow. I expected him to arrive much sooner than he did."
"What! You son of a bitch!" she hissed in barely concealed anger. "You brought me into that mission when you were already emotionally compromised by own desire to possess me, and then you compound it by dragging the man I cared for, no, the man I loved into the trap. What were you looking for, Webb? Were you hoping that something would happen to Harm and you could have me all to yourself? Was that what you were planning?"
"Sarah, please," Clay said, trying to appease her. "Of course I didn't want that! Harm is my friend too." He reached for her arms, but she forcefully pushed him away.
"Don't touch me!" she hissed again. "If this is how you treat your friends, I don't want any part of it. What are we to you, Clay, cannon fodder? You damn near got us killed while we were searching for Harm's father; you put us both in danger with the embassy debacle; you put all of us at risk in Paraguay, including the Gunny; not to mention that stunt you pulled last year by faking your own death."
"I have a dirty business, you know that."
"Yeah, well I don't want any part of it! When Simon had that gun to my head, I was afraid, not for myself, but I was so afraid that Harm was going to see him blow my brains out, or I was going to see it done to him. Do you have any idea what that would have done to him, or to me? Do you even care?"
"You know better than to even ask that question," he said, the fight clearly gone from his voice. "And you don't have to worry about being recruited for this mission, you're not a pilot."
"Mac, are you all right," said Harm, appearing by her side and nodding to Webb.
"I'll see you later, Rabb," said Webb. "Sarah," he added as he walked away.
She felt herself being turned and she looked into her husband's eyes. Behind him she saw that the room was empty. When did everyone leave? Did anyone over hear us?
"Harm, just get me out of here," she said, her voice empty and distant.