26
Monday 12 March 2001, 1930hrs Local, 'The Old Dominion' Cocktail Bar and Lounge,' Russell Road and Jefferson Highway, Triangle, VA, (120030zFeb01)
Meg's hair was still slightly damp from her shower when she pushed open the barroom door, and pausing for a few seconds looked for Victor, who was waiting for her and seen her enter, and standing waved his hand to attract her attention.
For the first time since she had reported to the Sergeant Major that morning, Meg felt the tension ooze out of her, and crossing the floor to the corner booth, she managed a sunny smile for Victor, and a sigh of relief as she slid onto the bench seat.
Victor sat opposite her, his face creased with concern, "Are you alright, ma'a… uh… Meg?" he hastily corrected himself as het met the force of Meg's glare.
"I'll be fine, Victor, just as soon as I get something to eat!" Meg cast her eyes about looking for someone who might actually be employed by the bar, eventually catching the eye of a frazzled-looking forty-something redhead, who with every sign of being the owner of a pair of aching feet dragged herself across the floor to the booth.
"'Evening y'all, welcome to th' Old Dominion, what kin I git you folks?"
Meg looked at Victor, "You eaten?" and in response to his shake of the head said with satisfaction, "I'll take a cheeseburger fully loaded with fries, and a draft beer."
"Uh-huh," the waitress scribbled the order on her pad, and turned to Victor, "What about you, honey?"
"Uh… I'll just have a straight burger, but I do believe I'll take a draft as well."
"OK… I'll be back with your drinks, instanter, the food'll be about ten minutes…" with a vague smile the waitress wandered off in the direction of the bar, and as soon as she'd gone, Victor placed his elbows on the table and leaning forward asked in an intense whisper, "Are you sure you're OK, Meg?"
"Yeah, just a bit tired and sore. There's something definitely going on there, Victor, and they're not taking a lot of trouble to hide it. I reported to the Sergeant Major this morning, and I could feel the hostility rolling off him. But he's not alone, he's got a couple of cronies at least, the First Shirt of H&S Company and at least one of the Cadre, a Gunnery Sergeant Van Horst."
Victor raised an interrogatory eyebrow, "I was in it the moment I stepped into the Sergeant Major's Office, Victor. As soon as he saw me he gave me a look that you'd normally reserve for the kind of bugs that live under a stone. He assigned me to a company and by the time I'd got there, the First Sergeant was ready for me… before I could open my mouth he was giving me hell for being out of uniform…"
Victor did look surprised at that. He had gone through Sergeant Pierce's SRB with a fine-tooth comb making certain that her Service A uniform was fitted with all the correct medal ribbons and badges, and he had pressed and ironed skirt, jacket and blouse for her to the highest standard of which he was capable, and which he was confident would have passed inspection by the most particular of USMC Sergeant Majors. "How were you out of uniform, Meg?" he asked her, his face darkening with anger.
"Apparently, the uniform of the day is BDU and my appearance in Service A was… inappropriate…"
At that point the waitress returned carrying a tray on which were the two draft beers they'd ordered. Meg fell silent while the beers were place on the table and the waitress shuffled away out of earshot, "But reporting instructions specify Service A uniform," Victor objected.
"Yeah, well, there didn't seem to be much mileage in using that defence," Meg replied cynically.
So…?" Victor prompted her.
Meg took a swallow of her beer, "So… I was ordered to report to the Company Office at seventeen hundred hours – chow time – to do my PFT under the supervision of Van Horst. That's why I'm so damn' hungry. By the time I'd finished and showered the mess hall was shut…"
Victor grimaced in sympathy. "If it's any consolation, the reputation of the MCCDC mess halls isn't anything to write home about!"
"Maybe not, but the Company Clerk, a nice kid, must have had an inkling of what I was headed for, because he advised me to eat a light lunch!"
"So… knowledge of what's going on is pretty widespread?"
Meg considered, "No… I don't think so. First Sergeant Santiago didn't exactly bother to whisper when he was gigging me, so Corporal Le Blanc would easily have heard him through the office door – oh by the way, I'm an embarrassment to the Corps!" Meg grinned as she took a second mouthful of beer.
"So… you escaped EMI for one day?" Victor made an effort and sat back against the wall of the booth.
"H'mm… Although I do want to speak to a Corporal Henderson… apparently she rotated in a few weeks ago and 'got off on the wrong foot' with the First Sergeant, so it looks like I'm going to have to screw up and land myself in hot water…"
Victor leaned forward, and took hold of Meg's wrist, "You be careful, Meg… It seems to me that these guys have gotten away with what they've been doing for so long that they've become convinced that they're doing the right thing, and that they can't be pulled up for doing it!"
"Relax a little Victor. I'll watch my step. Anyway Commander Rabb will be on base tomorrow, and you're here as well. I've got you both on speed dial. I reckon I'll be safe enough during office hours, I just need to be extra careful before oh eight hundred and after seventeen hundred hours. And anyway," Meg's eyes crinkled in amusement as she repeated a mantra that Harm had repeatedly complained about, "I'm a Marine, now. I can look after myself!"
Victor shook his head as he took a pull of his beer, "Meg… I know what Colonel Mac means when she says that. But don't go taking it literally. We work in teams, remember? All the way up from four-man fire-teams to regimental combat teams, so if the dill starts to pickle, then get on your 'phone and call for help! I'd hate like hell to have to try and explain to the Admiral how I managed to let you get hurt!"
"Aw… Victor… and here I was thinking that all that concern was for me, and all the time you're just covering your ass with the Admiral!" Meg complained in a teasing voice.
"Just take care, Meg!" Victor insisted.
Meg was about to come back at him with another quip when she looked across the table at him and saw a burning intensity in his eyes, "I…I will, Victor, I promise…"
For a second it seemed that Victor was about to reach out and touch her, but the moment shattered and was gone as the waitress returned to the booth, "One Cheeseburger, all-in with fries, one burger, with fries," she announced cheerfully, placing their plates and their paper napkin-wrapped cutlery on the table in front of them, "Enjoy!"
Not quite knowing whether to resent or be grateful for the interruption, Meg grabbed for her burger, and took a healthy bite out of it, "M'mm… 'sgood," she managed around the mouthful of food, and her eyes closed briefly in contentment.
Victor shook his head in wonder. He had observed over the past weekend that Meg Austin had a healthy appetite, but taking in her slim figure, he wondered where she put it all!
Meg wiped the last of the sauce drops off her plate with a remnant of the burger bun and looking around caught the waitresses eye again, and pointing to her nearly empty glass, she held up two fingers.
The waitress smiled and nodded, turning back towards the bar-tender. Victor with a look of concern again on his face said, "Hey, take it easy with those beers, Meg!"
"Oh this is the last one, Victor. Just to wash down my dinner… there's no way I'm going to appear at formation either stale drunk or with a hangover. Even with my limited knowledge of Santiago, I'm pretty sure he'd have me running on the instant until I either puked up or fell over!"
"Well… OK if you're sure…" Victor conceded defeat, but then continued, "You bring today's BDUs with you?"
"Yeah, in a grocery sack in the trunk of my car."
"Good… I've a fresh set for you in mine… so…" Victor looked at his watch, "once we're done here…"
As their beers arrived, Victor asked for the check and the two of them sat back to drink in peace. Meg was too tired to think too deeply on any subject, although she did wonder about what she thought was the real concern she had seen in Victor's eyes a couple of times. Victor merely contemplated the woman sitting opposite him, and marvelled at her strength, her courage and her beauty, before giving himself a savage mental kick. Snap out of Marine – she's an officer!
Sally Fitzgerald watched them leave. His arm around her waist and her head leaning against his shoulder, and smiled. She couldn't recall seeing them here before, and they were such a good looking couple she was sure she'd remember if they had. They looked good together too. And they had left her a decent tip!
Monday, 12 Mar 2001, 2017 EST, Williams House, Base Housing, Norfolk Naval Station, Norfolk VA, (130117ZMar01)
"You're late," Angela Williams remarked as her husband let himself into the house, and hooked his cover on the coat rack just inside the door., then turned towards her as she laced her hands at the back of his neck and reached up to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. His hands went almost automatically to her hips as he drew her into him, and returned the kiss with interest.
"Yeah… sorry about that… Angie, but I had to work back to make up for lost time this morning…"
"Lost time?" Angela queried as she turned the oven on and set the timer. "How did that happen?"
"I… uh… went up to Falls Church this morning," Bobbie confessed as he pulled two beers out of the fridge. Twisting the caps off, he passed one to his wife, and took a swallow from the second bottle before continuing, "Oh… that's better! Yeah, I went to see Rabb," he suddenly had difficulty in meeting his wife's gaze, "About having seen him in Charlottesville… with that blonde…"
Angela sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, a worried expression on her face, "Oh… Bobby… no. What… what did he say…"
"M'mm.. he… uh… tore me a new one… Well… I was sort of, half-right, kinda… she's a Lieutenant at JAG, another attorney…He'd taken her there to propose to her… and when I arrived at JAG, she was surrounded by a gaggle of women all admiring her ring… they had just come from the Admiral's office, after telling him of their change in status. It seems that he knew about their relationship from way-back…"
"Oh… what… what happened?"
Bobbie shrugged, "Well, he gave me credit for coming to see him face to face – well sort of credit. But he was pretty mad, and then like I said, he chewed me out, told me to crawl back under my stone, and that I should thank God on a daily basis that I wasn't in his chain of command and then to get out of his sight."
Angela chewed her bottom lip, "Do you think there'll be any career repercussions coming from this?"
Bobbie contemplated the half full beer bottle in his hand and then shrugged, "Honestly? I don't know… but I've got a feeling that there won't be…"
"How so?"
"I dunno… he was pretty mad, like I said, but he said something about at least I hadn't used the tip-line, so I think if he was considering action against me, he would have said something…"
"Oh, Bobbie… I do hope you're right." Angela stood and came to him, wrapping her arms around him, "And I know you were only doing what you thought you had to, and I love you because that belief in duty and right and wrong is so strong in you, but I hope you've learned a bit of a lesson too?"
"Oh, I hope so too, my darling," he murmured as he laid his cheek on the top of her head and drew strength and comfort from her presence.
Tuesday 13 March 2001, 0545hrs EST, 12 Platoon Barrack, Support Battalion, MCCDC Quantico, Quantico VA, 131045ZMar01)
Together with the other forty-two members of 12 Platoon – male and female -Meg shivered as she stood in utilities pants, boots and T-shirt while Gunnery Sergeant Foster called the platoon roll. And finally as Private Young answered his name, the Gunny called them all to attention.
"Twelve Platoon, left face – hunh! By the right, double-time – harch!" As the platoon broke into double time Foster started the age-old cadence counts, the platoon joining en-masse on alternative lines. Gradually as she warmed up up, Meg found the jogging becoming easier, and settled down to enjoy the comparatively mild – for the USMC – exercise.
Fifty minutes later as the platoon halted outside the barrack, Gunnery Sergeant Foster reminded them of second formation at "oh-seven-forty-five hours – and you will be there on time people!"
Meg. With the other female members of the platoon – including six who lived off-base crowded into the Barrack, making a beeline for the showers, before dressing in BDUs and heading for the mess hall for breakfast. Meg took advantage of the time spent dressing to quietly probe her room-mate, "So… what's the story with the Gunny?" she asked casually.
"Gunny Foster? He's a good guy, single – married to the Corps, ya know?" Sally Kirkland said, as she threaded her belt through the loops on her BDU pants. "He's hard-core infantry, done a tour in the war on drugs somewhere down in South America, - Columbia I guess, but he don't talk about it much. He's hard, but pretty fair – he doesn't seem to have a down on us just because we're women. If he's down on a girl, it's because she deserves it, and he can be just as down on any of the guys if they screw up!"
Meg nodded an acknowledgement, as she buttoned her BDU blouse and picked up her barracks cover, "Well, how do I look? I don't really want Santiago chewing me a new one 'cos I'm an embarrassment to the Corps!"
Sally gave her as critical look over. "You look fine to me, girl. But if Santiago's got your number marked down, you could come off a 8th and I honour-guard and he'd still chew you out for not meeting his standards!" Sally paused, "Be careful of him Meg. He is not one of the good guys!"
"Well lucky for me, I'm over in HQ Records, so with any luck the times he sees me will be few and far between!"
"Yeah… well… the trouble with HQ is the Sergeant Major!"
Meg grimaced, "Yeah, that's true!"
The two women walked over to the mess hall together, and Meg grimaced at the sight of the grease soaked bacon and sausage patties, and instead made a bee-line for the cereal bar, pouring a bowl of muesli and milk for herself and snagging an apple and banana on her way to a table.
The sight of a petite dark-haired girl wearing a harried expression and frantically shovelling food into her mouth caught her attention and she nudged Sally Kirkland to gain her attention before indicating the other woman. "Who she?"
However, before Kirkland could answer, a burly E-5 approached the brunette's table and in a gloating voice said, "Best get moving, Henderson or you're going to be adrift!"
Henderson went even paler, and her face twitched as she fought to overcome her emotions, "Yes Sergeant!" she gasped, and grabbing the tray with her half-eaten breakfast she carried it over to the food–waste bins and scraping the contents into the bins, she almost fled the mess hall.
The Sergeant who had choused her out of the mess hall, his face now creased in a grin, moved to a table already occupied by three other NCOs, where a few seconds after sitting and saying something, all four men burst into laughter.
"What the hell was all that about?" Meg demanded, feeling her temper rise.
Sally shrugged, carefully avoiding looking across at the rowdy table. "That was Henderson, she's in Ten Platoon – motor transport. She's been in trouble ever since she got here. I think she's supposed to be on area policing for half an hour between breakfast and second formation."
Meg fought down her anger, "That doesn't give her a lot of time to eat!"
Sally agreed, "The way they keep at her, she doesn't get a lot of time to do anything much. It's a vicious circle, they don't give her enough time to eat, sleep, maintain her rack or her area of the squad bay, so she gets another round of EMI, which gives her less time… and so on…"
"Why the hell doesn't she do something about it?" Meg demanded.
Sally gave her a pitying look. "Meg, all this EMI is dished out by the Sergeant Major and his buddies. But do you really think it could go on with the knowledge and approval of the officers and the General?"
"But…"
"Meg it's a lousy detail, but sometimes as a Marine you just have to suck it up. It stinks I know, but…"
Meg just shook her head in frustration, and taking a last mouthful of coffee, loaded her tray with her used crockery and cutlery and said, "Yeah, whatever. Look, I'm headed back to the Barrack. See you there!"
"OK, Meg," Sally replied, and then as the tall blonde wound her way between the crowded tables, she shook her head and muttered a quiet "Damn!"
Tuesday 13 March 2001, 0800hrs EST, HQ Support Battalion, MCCDC, MCB Quantico, Quantico, VA
Harm eased the dark blue navy issue sedan into a vacant parking slot in front of the Support Battalion Headquarters building and climbing out from behind the wheel, rolled his shoulders and stretched his back before he strode up the pathway towards the main entrance, returning salutes from officers and enlisted men and women alike. He allowed himself the luxury of a quick grin. In visiting a Battalion he would at least be of the same grade as the Battalion Commander, and so could avoid many of the irksome restrictions that so many senior officers – probably through an ill-defined feeling of guilt, he ruminated – felt necessary to load on to visiting JAG officers.
Following the information signs posted on the interior walls of the building, Harm made his way to two decks above the first floor to the Battalion Office, where his unceremonious entrance attracted first the attention of a Corporal, who called out, "Officer on deck!"
The Corporal's stentorian announcement was sufficient to pull the Master Sergeant Chief Clerk from his office, just as Harm issued an "As you were," to the office population at large.
In reply to the Master Sergeant's courteous, but curious, "Good morning, sir, how may I help you?"
"Master Sergeant, good morning, yes.I'm Commander Rabb, from JAG HQ, I'd like to speak with the Battalion Commander, if he's at his desk. If not, then the S1, please."
"May I ask what it's about, sir?"
"Oh, this is just a courtesy visit, to let the CO know I'll be around the battalion area for a day or so," Harm said non-committally.
The Chief Clerk eyed him suspiciously for a moment and then said, "Step through into my office, if you will sir, I'll let the S1 know you're here."
Once again Harm was left kicking his heels, but once again it was only for a very few minutes before the door opened to admit a captain in Marine Corps BDUs, "Commander Rabb?" he inquired.
"Yes,"
"Sir, I'm Captain Philips, the S1, Colonel Walters is happy to see you now, sir."
Harm was ushered into the CO's Office where Lieutenant Colonel Walters stood to greet him.. He was some few years older than Harm, and if Harm was a betting man, he'd have wagered that Walters had been in grade a few years longer than he had.
Harm heard the door close behind him, but had the sense that Captain Philips, as the S1, had stayed in the room. His suspicion was almost immediately confirmed, when Walters spoke, "Good Morning Commander, Captain Philips," he nodded past Harm, 'tells me that you'll be in the battalion area for a few days…"
"Well, no offence, Colonel, but I hope not more than two days total." Harm had not failed to notice the flicker in the Colonel's eyes as he had taken in the JAG insignia on his jacket sleeves
"Oh…" Walters' expression was a clear invitation for Harm to explain his presence. Harm nodded, "Yeah, I'm investigating some irregularities that occurred over at the Security Battalion, but as some of the irregularities concern the brig, it may be that my investigations will bring me back to your battalion. So, this is really just a courtesy call to let you know that I'm around." Harm assumed an attitude of careless indifference but his eyes under half opened lids were watching keenly, and at his words he swore that he could see the tension flow out of the other officer.
"Well, that's considerate of you Commander. It's a mite early in the morning still, so you must have made a real early start from DC, can we offer you a coffee, or breakfast perhaps?"
"Thank you Colonel but no. I stopped for a coffee a couple of miles up the road… there's n old 1940s style diner just off the I-95 at Triangle, perhaps you know of it?"
Walters pursed his lips and shook his head, "Nope, can't say that I do, Commander. But… can I ask that if your inquiries lead to any of this battalion's involvement with irregular activities and the Security Battalion is concerned, you'll let my S1 or XO know?"
Recognising a tactful dismissal, Harm nodded, "If there is any involvement , Colonel, then we'll get back to you, now if you'll excuse me… I have some MPs to interview," he said with a knowing grin, hoping to dispel any suspicions his visit may have raised.
The two officers permitted themselves a brief chuckle, recognising Rabb's use of irony, as Philips opened the door for him. "Allow me to walk you out, Commander," the S1 proposed.
"No need, thank you, Captain, I can find my own way!" Harm assured with a cheerful grin, "Good day, Colonel, Captain."
Philips closed the door and turned a worried countenance towards his CO, "Sir…" he began.
"Never mind that now, Philips, find out what that SOB is really up to!"
"Aye, aye, Sir!"
Tuesday 13 March 2001, 0815hrs EST, HQ Support Battalion, MCCDC, MCB Quantico, Quantico, VA, (131315ZMar01)
Meg hurried up the pathway towards the HQ building. She was still fuming over the treatment – and the public humiliation - handed out to the unfortunate Corporal Henderson, and as a result she was not quite as alert as she should have been and very nearly failed to notice the two female Marine officers exiting the building and heading towards her, consequently she only just managed to snap off a salute in time to prevent a well-merited reprimand.
However she hadn't taken more than about three steps past the two when she was spoken to, "Sergeant… McIntyre…?" there was a note of hesitation in the voice that for a second led her to believe that she hadn't been the subject of the address. A faint hope that flickered and died as the same voice snapped out with more authority, "Stand fast, Sergeant!"!
Meg had no alternative but to halt, and turning to face the two officers, she found a First Lieutenant looking at her with frank curiosity while a shorter, Hispanic Captain was studying her intently. Quickly eying the Captain's name tag, Meg made out the name "Klein", which meant nothing to her, but rapidly firing memory cells put a name she did recognise to the face, Gonzalez. Sergeant Gonzalez, who had been the junior DI from Parris Island when Meg had been assigned an undercover role there as a recruit.
A flash from an old film ran through Meg's mind as she stood to hear what the Captain had to say… of all the bars in all the cities in all the world. Of course, there had always been a slight risk that she might run into someone who knew her, but to run into someone who knew her from an undercover assignment was doubly galling.
Captain Klein approached and looked up into Meg's blue eyes and then said quietly, "But I see your name isn't McIntyre now, Sergeant, it's Pierce – according to your name-tag. But then again McIntyre wasn't your name back at Parris Island either, was it?"
"Ma'am, I don't know what you mean, ma'am!" Meg stated as forcefully as she could.
Captain Klein nodded, genially enough, and said, "OK. Sergeant. We'll leave it at that for the moment, but…" she pulled a field notebook from her BDU blouse pocket and scribbled a cell 'phone number on it, "You will call me on this number before secure today, or I will make it my business to find out why you are parading around MCB Quantico under a false identity!"
Knowing she had no option at the moment other than to take the sheet of paper torn out from the notebook, Meg tucked it into her pocket, "Yes, ma'am! Ma'am, I shall be late, so by your leave?" and stiffened into a brace and saluted.
Captain Klein eyed her doubtfully for a moment before drawing herself up and returning the salute. "Remember, Sergeant, before secure!"
"Aye, aye, ma'am!"
Meg watched in dismay as Captain Klein and the strange Lieutenant left her on the pathway. She could see that the Lieutenant was speaking but Klein seemed to be shaking her head. Meg could only hope that Klein's recognition of her led her to recall that Med worked undercover, and that she was probably on assignment right now.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Meg headed on into the building, hurrying straight to her work station, and nodding a morning greeting to Corporal Walker, who returned her overture with a look of cool indifference. For a moment Meg bridled, if there was one thing she detested it was bad manners, but a moment's thought told her that this was not the place for taking a stand against the Corporal's near insubordination, and that it was probably too soon anyway – well, that is if she wanted to get to the root of the problem. But she had a sinking feeling as she realised that Sally Kirkland was probably right; the rot went a lot further up the chain of command than the Sergeant Major. It was going to be difficult enough, without Klein interfering, but at least she outranked the Marine Captain and could order her silence – but that wouldn't make her any friends, and friends might just be what she needed. No, what she needed was somehow to persuade Klein to stay silent, and also to let her back-up, Harm and Victor, know that her cover was potentially blown. If things started to go badly wrong, she might just need to get out of Dodge in a hurry.
Claiming a need to visit the head, she walked out of the office and down the hallway to the enlisted female restroom, where after making sure that all the stalls were unoccupied, she took her cell 'phone out of her pocket and pressed Speed Dial #1.
Tuesday 13 March 2001, 0815hrs EST, MCB Quantico Brig, Quantico, VA, (131315ZMar01)
Harm turned off the ignition and pulled on the parking brake on the dark blue Navy sedan, wishing for only the four hundredth and forty fourth time this morning that he'd driven the 'vette or even the Lexus from Falls Church, but it was easier to use a government owned vehicle filled with government owned gas than to use his own gas and then claim the cost back from the government.
Walking into the brig reception area he saw three MP NCOs behind the desk, all of whom jumped to their feet and braced themselves as he entered. Harm acknowledged their effort with a wave-off "As you were, please. I'm Commander Rabb from JAG Corps HQ. I'm looking for Staff Sergeant Del Rio?"
"Staff Sergeant Del Rio is off shift until sixteen hundred, sir," A Gunnery Sergeant, the senior of three informed him.
Harm studied the three NCOs, and gave a cursory nod, "OK, maybe you can help me out Gunny. I need to see the confinement records for the past year – to begin with."
Gunnery Sergeant Andrews raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in a soundless whistle, "That's a whole heap of records, sir."
"Do you have a problem with the way I spend my time Gunnery Sergeant?" Harm asked, his voice turning cold.
"No, sir! It's just… well… maybe if you could give us an idea of what you were lookin' for, sir?"
Harm considered carefully. The Gunnery Sergeant and his men could probably point him in the right direction very quickly, the problem as he saw it however, was that he wasn't certain that he could trust them. He thought for a moment or two and then made a decision.
"OK, Gunnery Sergeant, I'm looking for the arrest, confinement and release records for an E-5. An habitual, repeat offender; normally arrested for fighting. He was in here last week and was then admitted to the medical facility after a fight with a Staff Sergeant Hart."
The Gunny nodded, "Yes, sir, that would be Sergeant Booker from the LAV School."
Harm grinned, "Alright, Gunny, let's dig his records out. I need to find out just how many times he's been locked up, the length of time of each stay, whether charges were raised against him, and probably most important, on whose authority he was released."
The Gunny nodded, "Just for this year, sir?"
"No…" Harm replied thoughtfully, "make it for the last twelve months… let's see where that leads us…"
Whatever else he was about to say was interrupted by the imperative tone of his cell 'phone, with an annoyed grunt, he pulled it from his pocket, his frown of annoyance morphing into one of concern as he saw the caller ID, "Rabb!"
"Harm, it's Meg. Can you talk?"
Harm frowned, Meg wasn't supposed to make contact with him unless it was an emergency. "Go on," he said tersely, with an apologetic nod to the three MP NCOs, as he stepped away from the desk.
"Umm… my cover's been compromised, Harm…"
"How the hell did that happen?"
"Sheer bad luck. Do you remember a Sergeant Gonzalez from Parris Island, she was one of the DIs, along with Staff Sergeant Carrington.?"
"No… I don't think so… Oh, wait, yeah… I do remember her, she was one of the first suspects we had in that case… Private Schuyler, why?"
"She's here now, under the name of Captain Klein, and we almost literally bumped onto each other just outside the HQ building. She recognised me and wants to know what I'm doing here. And she wants to know by secure today."
Harm swore silently but viciously. It was an acknowledged risk that someone might recognise Meg, but for it to happen in less than thirty-six hours was a piece of rank bad luck!
"OK, how are you supposed to get hold of her?"
Meg pulled the scrap of paper out of her pocket and read the cell 'phone number off to Harm. Repeating it back to her for confirmation, he added "OK, Meg. Best get back to whatever it is you're supposed to be doing, I'll speak to this Captain Klein, and I'll be in touch with you later, OK?"
"Yeah… and… thanks Harm."
"De nada!" he grinned and closed the 'phone.
Turning back to the desk, he grinned in further apology, "Sorry about that Gunny, but it was kinda important. Now what do we got?"
"Sir, Sergeant Booker – arrested nine times in the last twelve months. Normally just an overnight stay until his release the following morning, but twice he was in for two to three days…"
"Excuse me, Gunnery Sergeant?"
The Gunny turned to his subordinate, "You have something to share Sergeant Detweiler?"
"Yes, Gunny – those two longer stays were from a Friday evening until a Monday morning…" and in response to a raised eyebrow, the younger NCO, muttered defensively, "I just checked the calendar, Gunnery Sergeant."
Andrews looked appraisingly at his subordinate, his face expressionless, before he allowed himself the smallest crack of a grin and a nod of his head, accompanied by a terse "Bravo-Zulu!" before he returned his attention to Harm, "Looking through, sir, there are no signs that he was ever charged with an offence linked to his arrests, and all his releases from confinement were authorised by the Sergeant Major Support Battalion, sir!"
Harm nodded appreciatively, "Thanks, Gunny. Tell me, am I the only one seeing a pattern emerge here?"
"Hardly, sir. Booker had been a pain the ass… uh… the butt, beg pardon sir, for every MP in Security Battalion, and most of us reckon he ought to do some real brig-time. But the funny thing is, sir, he's a big guy, a strong guy, and iffen he was of a mind to, he could cause no end of problems for any MP trying to arrest him, but he never does. All it takes is the magic words, 'You are under arrest' and he folds and comes as peaceful as a lamb."
"Just as if he knew he wouldn't get into trouble for fighting, but was under orders not to give the MPs any problems, right Gunny?"
"With respect, sir, you said that, I didn't."
"OK, Gunny. Now, these arrest reports… if Booker was arrested for fighting, then the other party must have also been arrested?"
"In most cases, yes, sir."
"OK, can you let me have a list of their names, please?"
"Sure, sir. Sergeant Barr!"
"On it, Gunny!"
Harm was kept waiting for only a few moments while the MP Sergeant scribbled down a list of seven names apologising that on the other two occasions no other arrests had been made.
Harm carefully folded the collated sheets of paper and tucked them into an inside pocket. "Thank you, Gunny, and your men. You have been most helpful, and it could be that you have just considerably shortened what might have been a lengthy investigation."
Harm left the brig building and strolled across the navy sedan, fishing his cell 'phone and a scrap of paper out of his pocket as he did so. He unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel and carefully dialled in the number Meg had given to him. The 'phone at the other end rang three times before it was picked up, "Captain Klein." The voice was undeniably female and even just the two words betrayed an Hispanic inflection.
"Good morning, Captain. Would that be Captain Klein as in the former Sergeant Gonzalez?"
"Who is this?"
"This is Commander Harman Rabb, from the Navy JAG Corps. Am I speaking to the former Sergeant Gonzalez?"
"Good morning, Commander, yes, I used to be Sergeant Gonzalez."
Harm smiled in satisfaction, Captain Klein owed him a favour, and it should be quite easy to get her to back off.
"Captain, I'm visiting MCB Quantico for the day, and I was wondering if you were free for lunch. There are a couple of things about which I need to speak with you…"
"How did you know I was here?" Klein demanded.
"Ah… a mutual friend told me. That is also where I got your cell 'phone number."
"I see…"Klein replied, "Where and when should we discuss these… things?"
"If you're free, we could discuss them over lunch at the O club?" Harm suggested.
Julia Klein thought rapidly, the presence of a top flight investigating team from JAG at Quantico might portend interference in her own schemes. Better to make an ally of JAGs than to antagonise them unnecessarily On the other hand to be seen openly consorting with a JAG officer might jeopardise her own position… but… "Alright Commander …" she checked her day planner, "Make it twelve forty-five and I'll meet you at the O club dining room!"
Tuesday 13 March 2001, 0829hrs EST, HQ MCCDC, MCB Quantico, Quantico, VA, (131329ZMar01)
Meg emerged from the women's rest room and strode along the hallway back towards her work area only to be intercepted by the heavyset figure of Sergeant Major Conlan.
"Going somewhere, Pierce?"
"Just back to my desk, Sergeant Major.
"From where you've been absent for nearly twenty minutes?"
Meg was taken aback, but made a swift recovery, "Uh… not that long Sergeant Major, maybe ten minutes, at the most."
"Are you calling me a liar, Sergeant?"
"No, Sergeant Major, just mistaken or… maybe… misinformed?" Meg suggested, suddenly suspecting that this encounter in the hallway two decks below the Sergeant Major's office wasn't entirely accidental, and deciding to go on the offence. Meg, watching closely for any give-away signs, had the satisfaction of seeing the Sergeant Major's eyes widen slightly, before his face returned to its customary scowl.
"Believe me, Sergeant, I am rarely wrong" he hissed aggressively, "And I am certainly not wrong about you! Now, get back to your duty!"
"Aye, aye, Sergeant Major!" Meg responded crisply and with an inner silent sigh of relief headed on back towards her office, leaving the furiously angry Staff NCO glaring at her retreating figure.
Tuesday 13 March 2001, 0911hrs EST, Conference Room , JAG HQ, Falls Church, VA, (131411ZMar01)
A J Chegwidden looked down the conference table at the daily staff call. A very thinly populated table today. Rabb and Austin were down at Quantico, Barlow was still on the Patrick Henry, and it looked like he was going to have to send either Turner or Mattoni to bail the younger officer out on what had turned out to be a far from simple flight-deck mishap. On reflection, it had better be Turner, Mattoni was going to be tied up for the foreseeable future with the Coulter case, as were Imes and Singer. He let his eye roam further down the table until it came to rest on Bud Roberts, who was sitting behind a file of impressive thickness. Chegwidden searched his memory for any clue why Roberts should have such a burden, and was unable to come up with an answer. With the Coulter, Blair and Krennick cases demanding so much time and attention from his more senior attorneys, Chegwidden had passed much of the routine case-load on to Roberts, and to the younger officer's credit he had kept things moving, without having to go to a court martial once in fourteen cases – all pled out between their Article 32 hearings and the court date. H'mm… he'd have to check on that and make sure that Roberts wasn't – ridiculous as it might seem – intimidating the newly arrived junior attorneys, Lieutenant Fairchild and Lieutenant Warren, with whom he was working.
"So… Mister Roberts, what's that impressive rampart you have there?" Chegwidden asked, "Don't tell me that one of your DDOs had generated that much paperwork?"
"Oh… no, sir. These are newspaper cuttings and LEO reports faxed in from Bosnia."
"Go on," the Admiral invited him.
"They're all to do with the Blair case, sir. I've been helping Commander Rabb with research…"
"Of course you have," Chegwidden said resignedly.
Bud continued, "We're hoping that they'll turn out to be corroboratory evidence in Blair's defence, so that we can get the charge of desertion thrown out at his Article 32 hearing, sir," Bud's face wore it's somewhat anxious trying to please smile, but then took on a more crestfallen aspect as his voice lost enthusiasm, "But the thing is they're all in Bosnian, and I was hoping the Colonel might…" Bud let his voice trail away as Mac shook her head, and scribbled on her legal pad before passing it to Chegwidden, who replaced his reading glasses and scanned the note, "H'mm, 'My Bosnian not good enough for legal argument. Try ONI or USMC 8th and I or Arlington for Bosnian interpreter.'"
Chegwidden nodded as finished reading out loud, "That's good advice Mister Roberts."
"Yessir, Thank you, sir… and you ma'am!"
"Now… Commander Turner, I realise you're just back from an investigation at Norfolk. But I need your report and recommendations on my desk by secure today. Lieutenant Barlow has hit a series of snags during his investigation on the Patrick Henry. I need you to be ready to fly out to join him tomorrow. See Tiner for orders and itinerary."
Turner returned his CO's penetrating gaze with an impassive look of his own. "My report on the Norfolk investigation is already with Tiner, sir.!"
Chegwidden blinked, that was fast work indeed. "Thank you Commander! In that case I suggest you pick up your orders from Tiner and then go home and get packed! If you need transport to Andrews or Norfolk, or wherever it is you're flying from, then let Tiner know so that he can arrange it for tomorrow!"
"Yes, sir!"
Chegwidden nodded again and once more cast a brief glance around the table, "Alright, unless anyone has anything else? No…? Good. Just a reminder then, people that with Gunny away, watching Commander Austin's back, let's all help Lieutenant Sims keep on top of the office admin and keep requests for her assistance down to a minimum, clear? Good! Dismissed!"
The room was filled with the clatter of chairs being moved back from the table as the assembled officer came to their feet as their CO terminated the meeting.
Loren found herself trailing Carolyn, Imes and Mac as they headed back to the bull-pen and their respective offices, as Carolyn gently teased Bud, "I hear you're turning into quite a shark, Lieutenant?"
"Ma'am?"
"Fourteen – or is it fifteen – Article 32's without going to trial on any of them?"
Bud grinned in embarrassment, "All minor cases ma'am, that could have been – and should have been – dealt with by an Article fifteen. Only one of 'em has resulted in any brig time, and all the sailors and marines have been retained in the service!"
Mac turned her head and pulled a face that might have been meant as a smile, "Goo' 'urk, Bud! Don't min' Car'lyn, jus' jeluss!"
"Yeah, right, Mac," Carolyn replied laughingly, and then turning her head over her shoulder, "Oh, Loren… I need a few minutes of your time if you can spare them, before you get into too much else today?"
"Now, ma'am?"
"Yeah, fine. Let me just grab a coffee, and we'll meet in my office in five, OK?"
"Yes, ma'am! I'm with you on that!"
As Carolyn and Loren peeled off towards the break room, Mac turned to Bud, a frown on her face, "Since when they go' so frien'ly, Bu'?"
"Uh… since they've been working on the Coulter case, ma'am… or maybe just before that when Lieutenant Singer started becoming human, I guess…" Bud said off-handedly
Mac just stared at him while an oblivious Bud buried his nose in his file folder and said somewhat distractedly, "Ma'am, do you really think that there might be someone at 8th and I who can interpret these documents?"
Mac sighed, "Yeah, Bu, Bo'nian interpre'er is Mari'e MOS!"
"Really ma'am? That's great, thank you ma'am!" Bud said as he wandered away towards his own office, leaving Mac to stare after him in stupefaction, before turning with a sigh towards her own office where her desk was no doubt groaning under a stack of FOI requests that had filtered up overnight from Legal Services on the first floor. Still, even FOI requests were better than being stuck alone at the Roberts' house!
Tuesday 13 March 2001, 0940hrs EST, HQ MCCDC, MCB Quantico, Quantico, VA, (131440ZMar01)
Harm pushed open the door to the Records Office and stepped inside, giving the room a quick visual once-over. As he'd hoped, Meg was sat at a work station, her fingers flying over her keyboard as she concentrated on data entry. He was about to make his way across to her, when he was accosted by a Staff Sergeant who emerged from a side office, "How may I help you, sir?"
"I'm Commander Rabb from JAG, I need to look at some page eleven entries."
The Staff Sergeant blinked, "Uh… I'll just get Lieutenant Harrison for you sir!" and turning, almost dived through the door leading into the side office. Harm waited no more than a few seconds when a young Lieutenant opened the side office door, "Sir, I understand you want to look at some SRB Page Elevens?"
"That's right, Lieutenant," Harm agreed,
"Sir… they're in confidence documents, privileged information. I can't let you see then without the CO's approval…sir," he finished unhappily.
"Would a Military Judge's Order, satisfy you, Lieutenant? It has the same force as a court order."
"Uh… yes, sir… but I'd still like to submit your request through my CO."
"That's not going to happen, Lieutenant." Harm took a deep breath, "Why don't we go into your office, while I make a 'phone call, and we have the necessary paperwork faxed in from Falls Church."
"Sir… I'm not sure…"
"Lieutenant, that was not a suggestion!"
"No sir! Uh… yes, sir! This way, sir, please!"
Harm followed the Lieutenant into his office and with a raised eyebrow indicated a chair, "Oh… yes, sir. Of course, please…"
Harm sat, pulled out his cell 'phone and made his call, "Tiner, this is Commander Rabb, make a note of the names I'm going to read out to you, and then take them to one of the Judges upstairs, try Colonel Blakely first, if not him, then Commander Helfman or Captain Sebring. Once the Order has been signed, then fax it to me at…"
Harrison reluctantly provided the number, and Harm repeated it to the Admiral's Yeoman, ending with a "Got all that, Tiner?"
"Yes, sir"
"And Tiner… make sure the judge – whoever it is - understands that the order is needed ASAP!"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
Harm looked across at his unwilling host, "Now, we wait, Lieutenant!"
Harrison looked at his visitor and replied unhappily, "Yes, sir!"
The minuters ticked past slowly, Harm was content to sit and think his way forward through what was beginning to look like a highly convoluted maze, while Lieutenant Harrisomn, held a virtual prisoner in his own office by the restrictions of military protocol could only hope that his unwelcome visitor would find – maybe fail to find would be better – whatever he was looking for, so that he, Harrison, could escape above decks to the Battalion S1 and advise him of the JAG visit. If the S1 or the XO had been aware of the visit, then Harrison was certain Commander Rabb would have been escorted for the duration.
Fortunately they hadn't to wait very long. Tiner must have been unusually efficient and persuasive, Harm thought, to get the paperwork completed, signed off by a judge and then faxed down to Quantico in under half an hour, as there came a sharp knock on the doorjamb, and the Staff Sergeant, in answer to Harrison's "Enter", opened the door, a document grasped in his hand.
"Lieutenant Sir, this here's just come over the fax, it's addressed to the Commander, sir."
Harrison stood and held out his hand for the document, but the sheet of paper was intercepted by Harm, "Addressed to me I think you said, Staff Sergeant?"
"Yes, sir." The NCO replied, obviously unhappy that his chain of command was being circumvented.
Harm scanned the document quickly, all the names he'd detailed to Tiner were listed, including Sergeant Booker's name, and his eyes widened and his eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline as he deciphered the signature scrawled across the bottom of the Order, 'Styles Morris, RDML, JAG Corps, USN' Well, perhaps the old… Admiral is finally getting over me shooting up his courtroom after all.
Having read through the order, Harm passed it across to Harrison, "Well, there's your judicial order, Lieutenant. Any other qualms?" he added with heavy irony.
"No… none, sir. But perhaps, if I could make a copy of that order?"
"No need Lieutenant, you can keep this copy…" and then as Harrison stretched out his hand, Harm finished, "once I've done with it!"
Harrison and his Staff Sergeant accompanied Harm out into the main office, while Harm made a pretence of choosing an operator, his eye roaming the room until it fell on Meg, "Sergeant!" he called out. The three Sergeants in the room all stood, their eyes turning to the group in the doorway, "Yes, you, Sergeant," Harm added his gaze fixed firmly on Meg, "Front and centre!"
Meg made her way across the office halting directly in front of Harm, "Sir, Sergeant Pierce reporting as ordered, sir!"
"At ease, Sergeant," Harm ordered and Meg adopted the more relaxed position, "I want you to print out full copies of these Marines' Page Elevens from their SRBs. How long is that likely to take?"
Meg let her eyes flit from Harm to Lieutenant Harrison, "It's alright Sergeant, the Commander has the authority!" Harrison said bleakly.
"Aye, aye, sir!" Meg replied, and then turning back to Harm said, "About fifteen minutes, sir?"
"Thank you, Sergeant, I'll come and wait with you!" Harm said. "Lieutenant, your co-operation is much appreciated!"
Recognising, with relief, his dismissal, Harrison almost bolted from the room as he headed for the upper decks and the S1's office, while Meg re-took her seat and clearing her screen, she let her fingers fly across the keyboard and in a very few minutes the first of the requested documents was being fed out of the printer alongside her desk, but before the last page was printed, Lieutenant Harrison, accompanied by the S1 and the XO entered the office. The XO, wearing the silver oak-leaf insignia of a Major made his way across to Harm, "Commander," he greeted him neutrally.
"Major," Harm nodded in acknowledgement and replied in just as neutral a tone.
"Might we have a few words in private?" The Major, whose name-tape identified him as 'Hatfield' requested.
"In a few minutes, Major' Harm told him coolly.
"This really ought not to wait," Hatfield insisted.
"I'm afraid it will have to, Major." Harm replied, with just the slightest emphasis on the other man's rank.
Hatfield stiffened at the implied rebuke, but could do nothing until Meg turned to Harm and said, "That's the last of them coming through now, sir!"
Harm took the proffered sheaf of printouts from Meg and carefully slid them into his briefcase, "Thank you, Sergeant! And, now, Major Hatfield, you wanted a word in private?"
"Yessir!" The stiff-faced Major responded.
"Alright, I can spare you a few minutes now, Major. Lieutenant, may we use your office?"
Although phrased as a request, Harrison could do nothing other than to mutter, "Of course, sir!"
Meg and the other enlisted watched them go, Meg had a frown on her face while Corporal Walker looked puzzled. Corporal McGarry leaned over towards Meg and said, "Wow! You could cut the tension there with a knife! What do you suppose that's all about?"
Meg shrugged pretending indifference, "I have no idea! But what I do know," and she looked around at the lack of activity around her, "Is that we're not being paid to goof off! Let's get back to it, people!"
Walker cast her a darkling glance, before returning his attention to his work station and said loud enough to be heard by those near him, "I dunno, but that squid was wearing JAG Corps insignia. Damn lawyers, I'll bet this means trouble for someone," and he shot a glance at Meg, leaving her in no doubt that the person he hoped was in trouble was her.
Harm halted in Lieutenant Harrison's office doorway, and held out the faxed copy of Judge Morris' Order, "Thank you Lieutenant," in a clear dismissal, and then looking at the S1 added, "Don't let me keep you, Captain Philips!"
The S1, also recognising a dismissal could only reply "No, sir!" before casting an apologetic look at Major Hatfield.
The Lieutenant looked to his XO for guidance, "It's OK, Captain, Lieutenant, go grab a coffee for five minutes, while the Commander and I discuss what's happening."
Harrison stepped back and closed the door, and no sooner had he done so then Harm turned on the XO, "What the hell, was all that out there, Major?"
"You were in contravention of MCOs, Commander!" the XO accused Harm.
"In what way, Major?"
"Only authorised personnel are allowed sight of a Marine's SRB!"
Harm had had enough, just the events of this morning, culminating in the sight of Sergeant Booker's spotless Page Eleven had convinced him that the command of this battalion was rotten through and through.
"Lock it up, Major!" he snapped.
"What?" the now offended Major gasped.
"Lock it up! And in case you've forgotten what that means, Major, I'll remind you! When you are told to lock it up, you assume the position of attention and you shut up! This time you will not only shut up, you will listen very carefully. Firstly, you ignored proper military etiquette in your mode of addressing me. I may not be your senior by much, but I am your senior and you should have and you will in future address me as 'sir', or at the very least you will be facing charges of showing disrespect to a senior officer! Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir!" Hatfield gritted out unwillingly.
"Secondly, by virtue of a Judicial Order authorising me to examine those records, I was not in contravention of any Marine Corps Order, so don't you dare to insinuate otherwise, or you will find yourself being charged with preferring false charges. Thirdly, you are in very close danger of being written up for obstructing a JAG Investigation. So if you really want to push your luck, Major, you just foul my hawse one more time! Do you understand that?"
"Yessir!" the now blazingly angry Major replied.
"Good! Dismissed!"
Tuesday 13 March 2001, 1240hrs EST, Officers' Club Dining Room, MCCDC, MCB Quantico, Quantico, VA (131740ZMar01)
Harm had spent the latter part of the morning comparing the dates of entries on the page elevens with the dates of Sergeant Booker's spells of confinement in the brig, and it hadn't been long before a pattern emerged. Each of the Marines had had a spotty record up until the time that Booker had been arrested for fighting with them. But not only had Booker not been charged with assault, neither had any of the Marines with whom he'd fought, and furthermore they all had appeared to clean up their act, as none of them had any subsequent record of disciplinary proceedings taken against them. It all looked innocent enough until the verbal testimony of Staff Sergeant Del Rio was taken into account, and then the waters got murky pretty damn' quick. The problem was, Harm knew, proving any of it!
But now as he walked into the dining room, he pushed his dark thoughts behind him and halted scanning the room until he saw a vaguely familiar female face turned expectantly towards him. Making his way across the room, he waved off Julia Klein's motion to stand, and seated himself. Looking closely at her across the width of the table he saw that the tightly wound and tense woman he remembered from Parris Island had matured and had become less… of a DI he assumed. He took in the wedding band on her finger and the nameplate on her Service A tunic, and smiled, "I see that double congratulations are in order, Captain Klein!"
"Good afternoon, Commander!" she smiled, "Double congratulations?"
"Yes, firstly on passing the ECP programme, and secondly on going public on the marriage," Harm said easily.
"Yes, thank you." Julia Klein lowered her eyes, "But we owe it all to you, Commander. You could have quite easily, and you should have reported us both for fraternisation, And both Bill and I are eternally grateful that you gave us our chance – and trusted us enough to take the appropriate action if I had been an unsuccessful candidate."
"Well," Harm coughed, a little embarrassed, "We need sometimes to remember that under these uniforms are people, and sometimes people need to be cut a little slack, we can't choose with whom we fall in love!"
Julia Klein looked at him closely, a grin hovering on the edge of her lips, "No, we can't… and regulations are not always sympathetic… but you speak with a great deal of understanding, Commander…?" she finished archly.
"No... I'm still not married," Harm grinned, "but soon…"
"Good, I'm glad for you… I've never been happier, and I like to think that Bill is too…"
She broke off as a waiter approached and took their lunch order, allowing Harm to pick up the thread of the conversation as the waiter headed kitchenwards, "How is Major Klein?" he asked.
"It's Lieutenant Colonel Klein, now" she told him with a flush of justifiable pride, "He's assigned to HQ USMC at Arlington, and I'm USMC CID Liaison with NCIS at the DC Navy Yard" She shrugged deprecatingly, "There wasn't much scope for a commissioned DI, so once I completed TBS, I went TAD to Fort Leonard Wood and qualified as a CID Investigating Officer." She cocked her head and said musingly, "You know, I don't know if the way you and your partner worked to solve Private Schuyler's murder wasn't an influence…However, after I got my assignment, Bill and I got a place handy for both of us, that splits the commute more or less evenly. So coming down to Quantico isn't high on my list of favourite things to do." Her voice and face both became serious, Which leads me into my questions for you. We're both investigators. I'm here investigating specific allegations, and when I saw your partner – and I am sorry, I've forgotten her real name, I only remember her as McIntyre…"
"Austin," Harm supplied, "Commander Meg Austin"
"Yes, of course…" Julia let her voice fade away as the waiter returned with their soup, resuming once they had been left alone again, "Well, seeing her here, back in Marine uniform, I can only assume that she and you are working the same sort of plan that you did at Parris Island. What I need to know, and so do you, is that we're not going to be working at cross-purposes."
"O…K…, I'm going to pull rank," Harm said, "You tell me what you're doing here, and then we'll both know what's going on…"
Julia put down her soup spoon, "The IG's Office has received complaints from female marines that they are being… selected… for excessive and informal punishment for little or no reason. The IG passed onto the office of the Commandant, and so on until it landed on my desk.
"Informal punishment?" Harm queried.
"Yeah, Incentive PT, it's called. It's used under strict conditions at Boot Camp,. But it's supposed to stop once a recruit has made the transition to marine. Here it seems that it's being called EMI – which again is supposed to operate under strict rules. It appears that this is not the case, and it is so wide-spread in one particular unit – Support Battalion, that Command must not only be tolerating it, but actively involved in it."
Harm nodded. "Yeah, that's exactly what Meg is investigating. However, it also applies to male Marines, in the same battalion, who are being informally punished for minor infractions by an enforcer. I've just been through his MP arrest records, which should have given him at least three page elevens full of entries, but his is as pure as the driven snow…"
Whatever he was about to say next was interrupted by the ring of his cell 'phone. Ignoring the irritated glare of other diners, he delved into his pocket and retrieved the instrument, seeing Meg's number come up on Caller ID, he flipped the 'phone open, "Yes, Meg?"
"Harm, you need to get over to H&S Company Barracks, ASAP!"
"Why, what's wrong?"
"One of the female Marines from the EMI squad…" Meg gulped audibly, "A Corporal Henderson from Ten Platoon... she… she's just been found in her Platoon Barrack shower room… Harm, it looks like she hanged herself…"
Harm took a deep breath, "Alright Meg, try and hold it together, I'll be right there! Has anyone called for the MPs and EMTs - if not, get on it now." He looked at Julia Klein, "This is really bad. Your private Schuyler was found hanging, wasn't she?"
Julia went pale, "Oh, no… not another…"
Harm nodded, "Yeah, a Corporal Henderson?" The rising inflection made the statement into a question that Julia recognised as meaning did she know the name.
"She was one of the complainants," Julia confirmed and as Harm got to his feet, she added, "Are you going to the scene?"
"Yeah," he summoned the waiter and handed him a twenty dollar bill, "Cancel the rest of the lunch, please!" and turning back to Julia Klein, he asked, "Are you coming?"
"Damn straight I am," she affirmed, fishing in her purse and then pinning her MP Shield to her jacket.