Tears for Allah, Chapter XXIX

A/N1: This part of the story would not be possible without JAG writer Thomas Moran for "Good Intentions" and NCIS writer Jack Bernstein for "My Other Left Foot".

A/N2: For those not familiar with Miguel Ferrer, not only did he play Assistant Director Owen Granger on "NCIS: Los Angeles", but he was also a talented voice actor featured in many animated movies. And, he also starred in a number of memorable films including "Hot Shots Part Deux," "Ironman 3," and "Robocop". It was his wish that despite his terminal cancer that he continue to play his character to the end and even include his cancer diagnosis in the storyline. He will be sorely missed and I hope that I can do his character justice in this story. Rest in Peace Mr. Ferrer.

? Local _ ? Zulu
A Few Miles South of the North Korean-Chinese Border

Steve, Freddie, and the rest of the team hustled over left side of the cabin which was next to a thicket of bushes. Through a gap in the underbrush, he could see the switchback trail that lead to Chi Kon Rho's compound. Coming up slowly up the road were two weary looking Chinese-built trucks with canvas covered cargo beds.

"It's a cinch they aren't here to drop off food and water," groused Freddie, "If they get up here to the compound –

Steve didn't let him finish that thought. "Exterminator, this Rat Terrier Four, take out those drivers! Now!"

"Copy Four."

Blevins fired his SVD sniper rifle just as the first truck entered another sharp curve on the approach to the compound. At first it looked like he had missed, until the truck drove off the curve right over the edge of the embankment. The angle of the hill's incline, gravity, and physics took over from there as the truck flipped over on its back. As the concealed cargo smashed against the rocky hillside, the truck disintegrated in a thunderclap of an explosion.

"That definitely wasn't food and water," grunted Eliot.

"If it was, these guys ought to thank us for destroying it." Alvie replied with a smirk.

Blevins calmly readjusted his aim, and fired on the second truck which was still moving forward.

The second truck rolled right over the embankment as well. Momentarily, a second thunderclap was heard as a second black fist shaped cloud rose into the sky.

"Okay, we've obviously overstayed our welcome," Steve said dryly to the team. "Gather any intel of use and then let's get out of here."

The SEAL team members quickly gathered any documents found and made copies of the files found on the computer in Chi Kon Rho's bungalow.

"We'll be lucky if the whole North Korean army doesn't come hunting for us," Alvie said as he and Blevins were the last to leave the bungalow.

Blevins gave the newbie a sly smile. "That's why the Commander had me use the SVD rifle. That'll throw them off for a little while, that and what Mr. Fong is leaving behind for them."

JAGC Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Mac was looking at her computer with a frown on her face and hissing a frustrated sigh when Harm walked in.

"Ahem."

Mac clicked her file closed and looked up at him.

"You uncover anything you feel the police overlooked yet?" he asked as he eyed her desk.

His visual once-over didn't go unnoticed. She gave him a curious look. "Why do you ask?"

"A woman was murdered on that pier about a year ago," he revealed.

"Do they have a suspect?" the Light Colonel replied.

Harm crossed his arms and stood against the door jamb. "Nope." Boy, he was being cagey today.

"They're not gonna try to connect Cumpiano with this killing, too, are they?" Harm could hear the dread in her voice.

The Navy Commander shook his head. "They can't-Cumpiano was aboard the USS Randall in the Arabian Sea at the time."

Mac gave Harm a questioning look. "Why are you telling me this?" What is Flyboy's game? Is he trying mind games on me?

He gave her a wry smile. "Well, it's the prosecutor's duty to disclose exculpatory evidence," he said adroitly.

Mac looked down at her desk pad and smiled and then looked back up at him. "You think it could be the same guy who killed Ensign de la Torre?"

Although he couldn't say it, his face gave away what he thought. "I don't know," he said blandly. He was being playful with her, fooling her into letting her guard down. Well, two could play that game.

She gave him a seductive smile. "You know, just when I think you're going to be a hard case on this one, you turn around and do something like this-"

Jennifer rushed in, ending their lawyerly repartee.

"Sir! I have a message for both you and the Colonel-!"

1217 Local_0917 Zulu
Camp John Basilone
Near Fallujah, Iraq

The Spartan personnel carrier clattered to halt next to a CONEX container that served as the 36th MEU HQ building.

As a cloud of fine dust which had enveloped the carrier was whipped away by the wind, Reginald Stowels and his crew dismounted from their vehicle. "Okay lads, I'll be back shortly. In the meantime, give the old girl here the once-over and make sure she's ready to go when I get back."

Archie waved at his CO. "You got it Reggie, take your time with the Yanks." Grabbing Louis, they began examining the track tension on the left side of the vehicle.

Ryan started after him. "Do I need to go with you, S- Reggie?"

There was that stammer again. Still, at least he was trying to be less formal. Reggie shook his head. "No, Bom. You stay here with Archie and Loonie, they might need your help. I'll fill you in on what the Yanks are up to when I get back."

As Leftenant Stowels headed over to the door of the make-shift building, Louis chuckled. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch, Bom. If it was important, he would've included you."

"Yeah Mate, now come on and give us a hand tightening the tension on these tracks," added Archie as he handed the Bombardier a large wrench.

Reginald Stowels made his way toward the entrance of the MEU HQ. The CONEX container was actually two containers welded together. As Reggie went inside, he almost immediately came to a partitioned area and a desk where Andrew Baxter's adjutant sat.

"They're waiting for you, sir," Staff Sergeant Mike Jenkins replied as he handed the British officer a sheaf of papers.

Reggie smiled and gave the papers a cursory glance. "Good to see you're still here, Jenkins."

Mike verbally shrugged. "The Colonel asked me to stay on. I figured when he came in I'd be replaced by someone of his own choosing."

Mike Jenkins had always been too hard on himself, most likely the result of working for Colonel Ashton Briggs for so long. "Not bloody likely, Mike. Your Colonel needs good men to help continue the cohesion in this unit. Baxter's smart and he knows a good man when he sees one. Briggs only let you know so much and he knew that."

Jenkins didn't smile but Reggie could tell the Staff Sergeant liked what he heard. Even if was just a morale booster. "Thank you for that, sir."

But Leftenant Stowels didn't mean the words as a rah-rah speech. "No need to thank me. You earned that position and his trust and that promotion. He wouldn't have kept you on if he thought you couldn't do the job."

That made Jenkins sit a little straighter and taller. "Aye sir, you'd better go on in."

Reggie nodded. "Right. Don't want to keep them waiting."

Reginald Stowels breezed into the room. There was already one other foreign officer sitting at the table. The MEU CO looked up from his secure ruggedized laptop at the new arrival.

"Colonel, apologies for the delay. I had to pick up my new forward observer before heading over here," Reggie explained as he walked in the room.

MEU Commander Andrew Baxter gave his old friend a grin. "Nonsense, Reggie, you're early as usual. Take a seat-the rest of the gang should be here shortly."

The British liaison took a seat next to a crisply dressed Iraqi Army officer. "Good to see you again, Ahmad," He said shaking hands with him as the man stood.

Major/Ra'id Ahmad Azeri smiled at the British Leftenant. "Likewise Leftenant Stowels, and how is your wife?"

"Getting bigger and more beautiful every month, Ahmad." Reggie said with a broad grin at this query.

Ahmad smiled at the good news for his friend. "That is good. I hope your tour ends before she goes into labor."

"So do I, Ahmad," Reginald Stowels said his smile turning grim.

1738 Local_2238 Zulu
Norfolk Naval Station
Norfolk, Virginia

Bud pulled his JAGC Ford Crown Victoria into the rain-swept parking space next to a HMMWV. He couldn't figure out what Commander Rainer had in mind or why he asked him to meet him here at this hour. The junior JAGC officer replayed their most recent conversation over again in his head…

"Lieutenant…"

"Commander, please – do you think anyone's going to believe that you stole this money for some sort of top secret-"

Rainer pinned Bud with a steely gaze. "That's exactly what I did, Lieutenant….and I can prove it.

A lightning flash brought Bud's mind back to the present. Buttoning up his coat the Lieutenant grabbed his briefcase and hurried toward the entrance of the base depot, thunder chasing him to the door…

After meeting Commander Rainer at the sign in desk, they both made their way to the covered storage area. As the wind howled and thunder continued to boom, Rainer lead the JAGC attorney to some dust covered crates. Bud walked over and blew dust off the top wooden box.

The Lieutenant peered down at the label. "M-83s? White smoke?"

The SEAL officer shook his head. "No, behind that." Commander Rainer shoved the crates aside "Watch out," he warned as he picked up a dark green oblong wooden crate with Cyrillic labels and stamped with the Cyrillic word that looked like 'onacho' Bud knew from experience that it actually said 'opasnost' the Russian word for 'danger'. The crate also had a red and white warning placard on the top. The SEAL Commander set it down on the crate in front of the JAG officer.

Bud gave him a questioning look. "Russian? Sir, I don't understand." Bud said looking the Cyrillic letters on the crate. He knew exactly what it meant, but he wasn't going to let Rainer know that.

"Remember the terrorist attack at the Moscow theater?" Rainer reminded him.

"The one where all the hostages were killed by the knockout gas during the rescue attempt?" Yes, Bud knew it well. It had been a valiant attempt at a rescue that had gone horribly wrong.

The SEAL Commander nodded. "That's only 'cause they did it on the cheap. They didn't bring enough antidote on site," the SEAL Commander revealed.

Lightning flashed as if on cue. Thunder seemed to shake the shelter they were under.

Bud realized what he was potentially looking at and pointed at the box. "That's the antidote." he declared.

Rainer shook his head again. "No, this is the gas, in standard tear gas canisters."

He turned and pointed behind him. "Those are pressurized tanks designed to disperse the compound via a building's ventilation system."

Before Bud could say anything, the SEAL officer pointed to two larger crates. "And that's 1,000 vials of the antidote. I got it all from a contact in Spetsgruppa Alfa."

The rain seemed to grow stronger.

Bud couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Uh, who, sir?"

Rainer shot him a questioning look. For a Navy man, he clearly wasn't up on his Russian military nomenclature. "That's the Russian special forces counter-terror unit." The SEAL explained.

Bud , who well aware of Russian military nomenclature, was completely flabbergasted by that comment. "But how…"

"He stole it," the SEAL said in a matter-of-fact voice.

The JAGC Lieutenant couldn't believe that this SEAL officer was so dumb. "So you're telling me, sir, that you embezzled the money to buy stolen weapons on the Russian black market."

The Commander put the crate back where it was "I didn't buy them, Lieutenant. The U.S. Navy did."

Bud wasn't impressed at all by his verbal subterfuge. "Sir, you do realize that these can technically be considered chemical weapons." He warned.

Lightning lit his features as Rainer smirked at him. "Why do you think I paid in cash?"

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NCIS Offices
Los Angeles, California

Hetty looked up when Callen knocked on her doorjamb.

She gave him a wan smile. "Yes, Agent Callen?"

"We've been observing Treshchenko for the past few days," G. Callen reported to the Deputy Director.

Hetty Lange nodded. "I take it you've found something."

"Treshchenko and our U/A Master Gunnery Sergeant have been meeting with this man."

He handed her a photograph of the third person who was dressed in a uniform of the New Iraqi Army.

Hetty look at the photo for a long moment then looked up at him. "Do you think another trip to Iraq is in order, Mr. Callen?"

Callen nodded. "Yes, Hetty, I do."

Hetty cleared her throat. "Well then, be sure to clear it through Ms. Macy, and then find out what they are up to, Mr. Callen."

The Deputy Director watched as the young agent left. This was a perfect opportunity to take care of 'some housekeeping.'

Without hesitating any further, she picked up her phone receiver and began punching in a number.

The line rang twice before a person on the other end picked up. "Arkady, this Hetty, we need to talk."

The voice on the other end was jovial. 'My lovely Henrietta, it is good to hear from you. I trust you are doing well.'

Hetty was in no mood for the Russian's flowery words. "Spare me the flattery Arkady, we have a problem."

Former KGB/FSB Agent Arkady Kolchak was immediately serious. 'Oh? And what is that?'

"The Comescus are nosing around, looking for Callen again," she explained in her usual clipped manner.

'Bah, they are like bad pennies, always turning up when you least expect them,' he practically snorted.

She knew that there was no love lost between Arkady and the Comescus. "Do what you can to stall them, Arkady. I'll keep an eye on him here."

She knew there was a grimace on his face. 'Always lovely to talk to you, my dear Henriet—

Hetty hung up the phone, not waiting for him to finish. She had some serious planning to do.

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Thunder rumbled through the JAGC Headquarters' office as Jennifer was securing her desk for the day when the door to the Admiral's office opened. Chegwidden stepped out, ready to head out for the evening.

'Night, Coates," he said absently, his mind on the meeting he had had earlier in the day with the Senate intelligence committee about the JAGC terrorist attack.

The Legalman 2 quickly stood. "Sir, the stationery store called again, as well as Dr. Cavanaugh."

He considered what she had told him. "Hum, well, I'll take care of it."

Jennifer moved closer to him as he started to head out. "Would you like me to get her on the line, sir?" she asked.

AJ turned back to her. "Uh, that won't be necessary," he assured her.

Jennifer persisted. "Sir, she seems very interested in speaking with you."

This was turning from merely annoying into borderline insubordination. "Petty Officer, I…I guess I didn't make myself clear before. Your business is Navy business, and my business is *my* business."

But Coates ignored the warning, determined to find out what was going on between the Admiral and Dr. Cavanaugh "But, sir…"

"Stay out of it, Coates!" he snapped. "That's an order!" Jennifer was stunned into silence. The shocked look on her face made him instantly regret losing his temper. There was a lot of his daughter, Francesca, in Coates, especially her persistence and feistiness, which made him immediately regret his harsh words. "And, uh, a personal request," he said quietly before turning and heading out.

Now Jennifer was really concerned. "Aye, aye, sir," she said quietly. Though chastened, she was determined to get to the bottom of this.

Professor Reginald Wilkin's Office
NCIS Headquarters

Reggie Wilkins and Beka Petersen were having late evening coffee as Beka's boss examined the bust of Lieutenant Loren Singer that Beka had brought with her. "I have to say your model of Lieutenant Singer and her injuries is perfect, Beka."

Beka work to suppress a grin at this compliment. She didn't want to seem pompous or conceited. "Thank you, sir," she said neutrally.

Professor Wilkins set the bust on his desk pad and opened a drawer and pulled out a thick folder "Now we've got a more interesting challenge. Are you up for it?"

Intrigued by its size, Beka eyed the folder. "Sure, you know me, I love a challenge,"

Reggie gave her response a gentle chuckle. "Well, then this will be right up your alley…"

The young forensic model expert began leafing through the hefty folder. "Whoa! ...Uh, sorry sir, are you serious?"

Professor Wilkins leaned forward and looked at her intently. "Do you think you can do it Beka?" It was an honest question.

Beka leafed back forth through a couple pages and then nodded. "As long as I have a 'recipe' like this one, I can do it. But I might need some help," she admitted.

Reggie Wilkins nodded thoughtfully. He was glad he had recommended her to join him on this job. "Pull in whoever you need, Beka."

Norfolk Navy Yard

Sturgis was surprised by all the security and EOD technicians milling through and surrounding the rain soaked storage area. "What's going on, Lieutenant?" he asked as he shook the rainwater from his cover, placed it back on his head and then continued to look around at the activity.

Bud didn't smile, even though he wanted to. "I thought you might want to see this for yourself in person, sir. These documents prove that Commander Rainer did exactly what he said he did with the money, sir." He handed the former Dolphin a folder.

Sturgis leafed through the documents in folder. "They're in Russian," he stated unnecessarily.

"Yes, sir," Bud replied, again repressing a smile.

The former Submarine officer didn't know what Bud Roberts was up to, but it rattled him. "Come on, Lieutenant. Your client's already accused of fraud. You really think he's going to help himself with another stack of forged documents?"

Bud's look hardened. "They're not forgeries, Commander. And I can prove that, as well."

At that moment two EOD techs passed them carrying one of the dark green wooden crates stamped with Cyrillic lettering and plastered with placards and stickers – all in Russian. The two men were joined by a third tech that helped them carry the obviously heavy box toward the open side gate. Sturgis could see there were already several other crates in the back of the EOD truck.

"What is all this?" the JAGC Commander asked.

Another pair of technicians passed by him, delicately carrying another crate stamped with Cyrillic writing.

"Russian-made tear gas canisters, filled with a derivative of Fentanyl, an odorless, colorless general anesthesia inhalant." The Lieutenant turned back toward the boxes next him. "Those steel tanks contain the same narcotic gas," he pointed to another two large crates being man-handled onto the armored truck by the EOD team. "and that is 1,000 doses of a fast-acting antidote, sir."

The former Bubblehead gave the junior officer a startled look. Bud spoke before he could say anything. "Uh, don't worry—they're still in the original packing and perfectly safe."

Sturgis flipped through the sheets again. "This is the stuff the Russians used at the Moscow theater?" he said for his own edification.

"Yes, sir."

"He said he bought smoke and flash-bang grenades," Sturgis said partially to himself because he really was not sure what was going on. "From Davenport Industries in Hartford, Connecticut."

The former PAO officer tried to clarify. "Well, the documents list that the purchases were for non-lethal munitions designed for close quarters combat and hostage rescue operations. Now, due to national security reasons, my client felt that it was necessary to disguise the true origin of the munitions."

Sturgis glanced again at the folder and then closed it. "I take it you want the larceny charge dropped in exchange for a guilty plea on the fraud."

"Commander Rainer isn't interested in a plea, sir," the JAGC Lieutenant replied.

"Can I assume that he is also not interested in the charge of illegal weapons trafficking?" Sturgis said somewhat sharply.

Bud was ready to go toe-to-toe, if necessary. "You can."

Sturgis sighed. "Then what does he want?" he asked in an irritated voice.

"He wants to testify, sir," Bud offered.

"Lieutenant, if your client wants to come forward in a bid for leniency, he can do it at sentencing," the Bubblehead said dismissively. This was a fine dog and pony show, but Sturgis wasn't buying any of it.

Sturgis turned away, satisfied that Bud understood this wasn't a game they were playing.

"He's not looking for leniency, sir," Bud called out.

Sturgis turned back to the junior JAGC officer. "Why not?"

"He doesn't believe that he's done anything wrong, sir." The JAGC Commander looked again at the crates being loaded on the truck and then back at Bud.

JAGC Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

LN 2 Coates may have momentarily struck out with the Admiral, but she was not going to let that happen with the Colonel. After all, she and Commander had entered a joint custody agreement for Mattie, and Jen felt the SJA Light Colonel was not living up to her end of the bargain. It had been over two weeks since she last visited with Mattie. The Commander of course, said nothing, but then, that's just the way he was. Well, maybe he wouldn't say anything, but she could.

PO 2 Coates rapped on Mac's doorjamb. "Ma'am, do you have a moment?"

Mac looked up from the fitness report for Boilerman 3 Cumpiano. She had spent most of the afternoon trying to figure why the BM3 had suddenly confessed. She welcomed the break. "Sure Coates, what's on your mind?"

Jennifer came in and closed the door. Obviously she wanted them to have some privacy. Well, she could afford that with her. After all, she was doing such a good job with Mattie while she and Harm tackled this hairy case.

"How is the case with Petty Office Cumpiano going ma'am?" she asked. Mac invited her to sit down.

Mac sighed heavily as the Petty Officer smoothed her skirt under her before she sat down. "I wish I could say it's going well,"

"But?"

"But it isn't," Mac said glumly. Though she didn't mind talking with Coates, she wished that Harriet had been available to talk. But with the USO duties and her newborn child….

"Is it a case of you being too close, ma'am?" Jennifer offered, hoping to get this ball rolling.

Mac's eyebrows knitted up in confusion at her comment. "Too close?"

"The alcoholism…" Jennifer said prompting her. Possibly a little more blunt than usual, but she was trying to make a point.

A momentary look of irritation flitted through her features. "You've been talking with the Commander, haven't you?"

The LN 2 shook her head. "No ma'am, it's not that."

Mac wasn't ready for that. She thought for sure this was Commander Nosey's doing. "It's not?"

"No ma'am. I'm more concerned about Mattie." There, she said it.

"Mattie, Petty Officer?" Mac repeated somewhat incredulously.

Coates nodded her head. "Yes ma'am, I know that you and the Commander have just started this joint guardianship-"

This was the last thing that Mac needed right now. "What are you driving at, Petty Officer?"

"The guardianship, ma'am. You don't seem to be as involved as the Commander is-"

"You think I'm too focused on the case," Mac replied calmly, but inwardly seething at this accusation.

"I didn't say that, ma'am," the Legalman Two said evasively as only Jennifer Coates could do.

Aha! "But the Commander did," she said jumping on that idea with both feet.

"No ma'am, he didn't," she replied honestly.

Mac had just about reached the end of her politeness rope. "Then what is this about, Coates?" She said with a hint of exasperation in her voice.

The LN 2 blinked as if shocked by her response. "Your apartment ma'am,"

What the hell? "My apartment? What does my apartment have to do with any of this, Petty Officer?"

Was there something in the air around here that was affecting the thinking of all the officers? "You still have it." She replied as if the problem she was stating was obvious.

It wasn't. "Yes," the Light Colonel replied somewhat testily.

Coates suddenly became very brave. "May I ask why, ma'am?"

Mac was thunderstruck. Has Coates lost her mind? "Why?" she barely got out.

Coates prattled on as if there was nothing wrong with the way this conversation was going. "I mean, you and the Commander are engaged. I thought you'd be living together by now, and with the joint guardianship-"

That did it. The SJA Colonel was not in the mood for a relationship discussion right now. She had more pressing things on her mind. "Petty Officer, my personal life and my living arrangements are none of your concern-"

Jennifer stood her ground. "They are when they impact upon me, ma'am—and Mattie."

Mac had had about enough of this. "Are you feeling stifled, Coates? Because if you are, you should talk to the Commander-"

But Jennifer wasn't backing down. "No ma'am, but I am worried about your lack of involvement with Mattie…and how it ties back to this case, ma'am."

Mac was silent for a moment. When she spoke, it was in a very calm, almost quiet voice. "Thank you for your concerns, Petty Officer, but the Commander and I are handling this."

Jennifer could see she was losing this battle. Where had she gone wrong? "But ma'am-"

Mac's voice rose, cutting her off. "I said, the Commander and I are handling this. Are we clear, Petty Officer?"

The LN 2 shot out of her chair and snapped to attention. Whatever headway she thought she had been making had obviously been an illusion on her part. She had screwed the pooch for second time this week. "Crystal ma'am," she replied automatically.

"Good! Dismissed!" Mac barked.

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Jennifer did a quick about face and opening the door, swiftly left the room.

Mac's Apartment
The Washington
Georgetown

Mac was sitting in her apartment going over her notes on the case. As she reached another dead end, there was a knock on her door

Mac got up, walked over and opened the door There Harm stood in a windbreaker and blue shirt, holding an umbrella. His eyes bored into her. "We need to talk."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" she asked trying her best to deflect him. Despite the fact she usually would have pulled him bodily into the apartment on any other occasion, they were on opposite sides of this case and she didn't need him distracting her with marriage administrivia.

"No, it can't," he said urgently. Oh crap, this is about the case, The Light Colonel groaned inwardly.

She sighed. So much for deflection. "Okay, hold on." Mac went over to her coffee table and gathered up her case notes and fitness reports and other documents.

Harm stood patiently at the door, one hand on the doorjamb, the other holding his umbrella, waiting for her to finish.

"Preparing subpoenas for more phone records?" he asked as he eyed the stick of papers she was gathering together.

Mac chuckled at that idea as she finished collecting the last of the documents. Then motioned for him to come in.

"Should I be?" she shot back with a smirk.

Now it was Harm's turn to sigh. He wasn't in the mood for this. He had decided she trying to plug a sinking ship and it wasn't working. "Mac, take the deal. Your client confessed," he said bluntly as he walked toward her.

But Mac wasn't about to give up on her client now. "He was confused, Harm. He didn't know what he was talking about. Not to mention the fact that it's completely inadmissible."

"Oh, and a totally unsubstantiated allegation against his wife will be admitted?" Harm said sarcastically.

Mac smirked again at his arrogance. "A woman goes for a midnight stroll with a married man and you think his wife shouldn't be a suspect?"

The aviator/lawyer tried to make her see that the case was hopeless. "Aside from the phone call, do you have any actual evidence she was involved, let alone left the house that night, or made it all the way to the docks?"

The SJA Colonel nearly laughed at lawyerly histrionics. "Then you shouldn't be worried about anything, should you?" She sat down and picked up her cup of tea.

"It's not the case I'm worried about, Mac. I'm worried about you," he confessed as he sat down across from her.

Normally Mac would have been flattered by that comment and his body language, but she was caught up in the heat of the argument. She quickly dismissed that idea. "Please," She practically snorted.

"Look, Cumpiano clearly would never have committed murder without being under the influence of alcohol, and that scares you."

She couldn't believe he thought such a thing. "The only thing that scares me is the possibility that an innocent man might spend the rest of his life in prison," she shot back.

The tall Naval Commander tried to get her to see 'logic'. "Mac, just because his wife is overbearing and controlling doesn't make her a murderer."

Mac had to agree with that. "That's true. But the fact that she's immature, insecure and impulsive just might," she added.

Harm shook his head. He wasn't buying it. "You're not helping anybody, Mac, by allowing your past to cloud your judgment, especially your client," he warned.

At this point she wondered why she had ever let him in at this hour. She didn't need this right now. Especially not after her brush-up this afternoon with Coates. She was still smarting from that one. "Harm, what I've learned from my past is that alcohol doesn't change your true nature, it only makes it harder for you to control the one that you already have."

Harm sat back and gave his partner a worried look. "Yeah, well sometimes a person's true nature is buried so deep that they never understand it."

Mac could now see that Harm was talking about more than just the case. He was worried about her.

"Does this have to do with me being an absentee guardian?" she asked guardedly.

"I'd be lying if said that wasn't the case, but I'm also worried about you, Mac, worried that you are looking at this case through your eyes and not Cumpiano's," he said in softer tone as he closed the distance between them.

Mac was tempted, but it was a 'school night'. And a make-out session with her favorite sailor might seem like a good idea to her bruised libido, but it really wasn't. Not right now. "Harm I'm sorry about Mattie, but this case is important to me and not just for the reasons that you are thinking. And doesn't he deserve someone who's willing to do whatever it takes to see that he isn't unfairly judged—even if it means his own wife might be guilty?"

Harm stood up. This conversation had reached a dead end. "All I'm saying is, be careful, Mac. Don't let preconceived notions color your judgment on this one."

Outside Building 12-485
Norfolk Naval Station
Norfolk, Virginia

Mac was talking to Elisa Cumpiano. Both were sitting on a bench outside the Brig.

"What do you still think?" Elisa asked, fearing that the Light Colonel lawyer did think she was a crazy pregnant lady gone berserk. "And after Luis confessed, well, what good would it have done? I'm his wife. Who's going to believe me?"

"Mac,"

The SJA Colonel and Elisa looked over the JAGC staff car that had just pulled up. It was Harm.

"Harm, what are you doing here?" Mac asked in a disbelieving tone. I can't believe he drove all the way down here—

"Looking for you," he replied with that serious 'take no prisoners' look of his.

She huffed at him angrily. "This is ridiculous. You can't interfere-"

"She didn't kill De La Torre, Mac," he stated directly, cutting her off. He had to stop her from making this mistake.

She and Elisa exchanged shocked looks. How did he know?

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Harm had explained on the way over that NCIS Agent Tim McGee was meeting them and what he had learned from the brig guard. The aviator/lawyer ended it with the clincher that made Mac dizzy with the realization that she had almost railroaded Elisa Cumpiano. "He said 'God had been behind that shack that night… that God saw everything.' He kept saying, 'God saw everything'"

xxixxxixxxixxxixxxixxxixxxix

Harm spoke first. "Ensign De La Torre's body was found about 20 yards from an abandoned shack on the pier."

Chaplain Oliver Stephens was nonplussed. "You read me my Article 31 rights so you could tell me that?"

Harm revealed what they had learned. "Chaplain, the only people who knew that, were personnel with access to the confidential case files," he said as he rounded the desk to get closer to him. "They're the only ones who knew that she had been murdered behind the shack, and that her body was later moved."

"The only people, except you, that is," Mac added.

The Chaplain Stephens looked at Mac indignantly. "So now you're saying I did it? First it was Luis, then Elisa, and now it's me. Who's next? The taxi driver who dropped them off?" he said, trying to rattle her. But Mac, thanks to what Harm had heard from the brig guard, knew his secret.

Mac shot him a cold look. "No, the driver didn't have a reason to be behind that shack at 0100. You did."

Before he could respond Harm joined in. "Ensign De La Torre had to walk by that shack on her way back to the street. She saw you there, didn't she? Saw what you were doing."

"No." Stephens said firmly shaking his head. "I wasn't there."

The aviator/lawyer gave the Chaplain a look of incredulousness "Really? Your car was."

"Hmm, talk about bad luck. First you just happen to run into a fellow Naval officer while you're smoking crack on the pier," Mac mused thoughtfully.

Tim McGee joined in the conversation at this point. "And then you get a parking ticket." Norfolk PD Detective Kush who had been in charge of this case up to this point had bowed out saying to the young NCIS agent, 'I've got my hands full with civilian cases; you take the lead on this one'.

"No." the Chaplain shook his head more insistently this time. His voice though had the strain of doubt. "No, it wasn't me."

Tim knew they had him. "We have a signed statement from your dealer stating he sold you cocaine that night, and that you've been a pretty regular customer for the past two months."

"Which is also how long it's been since your last random drug test," the SJA Colonel added.

"I guess you figured you'd get back in the program before your number came up again," the JAG Navy Commander replied.

He was caught. But he couldn't accept it. No. Stephens shook his head again. "No, you're wrong, Um…no, that's not me. That's not who *I* am."

As if to ward them off, Oliver Stephens began quietly quoting Matthew 7:15. "Beware of false prophets, who come to you wearing sheep's clothing, but inwardly…they are ravening wolves."

Harm shot Mac a quick shocked look. He could tell the man was losing it.

Mac quietly quoted Isaiah 55:7 back to him. "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him." Mac wanted a confession, but she also wanted him to find peace.

Hearing those words, the Chaplain's face crumpled. "Oh, that is not true," he said mournfully. "I've tried, I…You don't know how hard. You don't know how many times I've…"

Norfolk Special Agent McGee asked the final tough question. "Did you assault Ensign De La Torre, Chaplain? Did you kill her?"

But the Chaplain was lost in his own recriminations. "I can't sleep, I can't…think…I can't…I can't feel anything."

Mac could feel his hurt. His anguish. The Chaplain put a hand over his mouth and began crying.

Harm and Tim too, were affected by this man's breakdown.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Oh God. I'm so sorry."

JAGC Headquarters
Courtroom #2

Judge Clifford Blakely looked down at Bud and Commander Rainer. He took no pleasure in what he had to say.

"While I share some of Commander Rainer's misgivings about the notion of good and bad methods for human destruction, what I don't share is the belief that illegal arms deals funded by larceny is a sensible solution. It's clear there is sufficient evidence to show the accused committed the offenses. Therefore, I am recommending they be disposed of at a general court-martial."

"This hearing is adjourned." AJ sighed heavily, turned and left the room as Blakeley pounded his gavel. The Navy/Marine Corps JAG hated seeing Rainer being gutted, but he had played fast and loose, and the Navy couldn't afford that and the SEALs sure as hell couldn't.

"He's right, but so was I," Rainer said unapologetically as Bud gathered his papers. Defiant to the end.

Bud though, wasn't feeling as good. They had gambled and lost. "Maybe sir." "If you'd like, I could-"

Rainer shook his head. "Plead it out, Lieutenant. I made my point. No sense in taking this any further."

Bud hated hearing that from the SEAL but knew it was inevitable. "Yes, sir."

Sturgis got up and walked over to Bud's table. He gave the two men a steely look. "Restitution, dismissal with loss of benefits, and a year of confinement." Bud couldn't believe what he was hearing. After all he had shown him, to do this to this man- "Suspended."

Rainer looked at both lawyers for a moment and then nodded before being lead away. Bud wasn't pleased with the verdict, but considering prison was being avoided, this deal was better than nothing.

Outside Building 12-485
Norfolk Naval Station
Norfolk, Virginia

"I don't know what to say. Except thank you, ma'am, sir," Luis Cumpiano said as he shook hands with both Harm and Mac.

"You're welcome," Mac replied, touched by his candor and warmth. How anyone could have ever believed he was a killer was beyond her.

"Take care of yourself, Petty Officer," Harm added.

"Yes, sir." He said coming to attention and saluting both officers. They immediately returned his salute. Mac smiled as Luis headed over to Elisa. They whispered to each other as BM3 Cumpiano held her hand and they crossed the street to her car.

"He owes you more than a thank you," Harm stated as he watched them as well.

"Why? I almost pinned the murder on his wife," Mac said with regret in her voice. If that had happened, she would have never been able to live with herself.

But Harm didn't want his partner to see it that way. He wanted to see what she did was right. "You didn't give up, Mac. You sensed something was wrong, and you forced me to reconsider."

The Great Harmon Rabb admitting he was wrong? Maybe there was hope after all for this marriage. She looked over at him and gave him a smile which he returned.

"You know, it's amazing. They've known each other since the eighth grade, and they still have secrets." Mac said as she watched as BM3 Cumpiano made sure he opened her door for her. Elisa giggled a like school girl as she got in their car and Luis made his way around to the driver's side.

Harm observed the romantic interplay between the two. "Don't we all?" he replied. At that comment they shared a knowing look.

JAGC Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
2 February 2004

It was late evening and AJ was sitting at his desk scrubbing his bald pate in frustration as he tried to figure out what to do about this train wreck that his future wedding had become. He leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily as he stared at the ceiling.

At that moment, Jennifer appeared in his doorway. "Good night, sir," she said announcing her departure. She didn't want to anger him again.

The Admiral continued staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Sir?" Jennifer stepped into the dimly lit office, concern laced her voice.

AJ suddenly realized he had been lost in opportunities that might have been and leaned forward, assuming a more Admiral-like posture. "Night, Coates," he said with less gruff than he usually did.

Jennifer saw this as her chance to fix this situation once and for all. "Sir, whatever happened between you and Dr. Cavanaugh, I'm sure it can be worked out," she offered.

A scowl rose in the Admiral's face. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he snorted.

That did it. Why do men have to be so pig-headed? "'Cause you won't tell me, sir," she said bluntly.

The scowl grew stronger. "Why would I?"

"Might make you feel better," she offered sympathetically.

That was the last thing he wanted to hear from her. "Coates, that's the stupidest damn thing I have ever heard you say." Especially right now.

The Legalman 2 immediately stiffened.

"Now, get the hell out of my office and leave me alone," he growled.

Shocked and hurt, Jennifer hurriedly pulled his door shut. AJ sighed heavily and stared at the closed door. Daring it to open again. When it didn't, he spread his hands across his desk pad in frustration.

The ringing of his phone interrupted him. "Coates!" he bellowed. When his LN 2 didn't burst through the door uttering apologies, that told him she had secured and left for the evening.

Damn it! This was the last thing he needed. The Admiral snatched the receiver out of its cradle. "Admiral Chegwidden," he snapped.

'Ah Admiral, is this a bad time?' said the voice on the other end.

AJ felt his red hot anger fade, replaced by a cloud of momentary confusion.

"Danny?"

'Petty Officer 1st Class Walden, sir' the voice on the other end replied.

The Navy/Marine Corps JAG quickly recovered. "Well, uh, congratulations, son!"

'Thank you, sir. I just wanted to call and tell you. Is- everything okay, sir?'

AJ noted the concern in Danny Walden's voice. It wasn't that fake sincerity he had used on him in the past, no, this was genuine concern. "I'm fine Danny, it's just work."

'Yes sir, I understand.' Even if he didn't he knew better than to question an Admiral's word.

"You do, eh?' AJ said working some playfulness into his voice. "So how is Captain Jorgen?" Seth Jorgen, a good friend of his was the CO of the Ticonderoga class guided missile cruiser, USS Petersburg.

'He's good, sir. He sends his regards,' Danny said.

"Good, good. So tell me, what are you up to now?"

'You don't have to worry about me anymore, sir. In fact, I'm on the other side of the law.' AJ could tell he was grinning about this statement. But to him, the response was confusing.

The JAG sighed. "It's late, son. I'm not following."

Danny immediately apologized. 'Sorry sir. I've been made acting Head of Security on the Petersburg until the Captain gets a new officer on board, then I'll be his executive NCO.'

This time AJ smiled. "Well, Danny, that is great news! Congratulations, son! And on your promotion as well!" Well, at least he got Danny on the right track.

'Yes sir, thank you, sir. And, Admiral? I really do owe it all to you. If you hadn't recommended to the judge that I go in the Navy….'

Chegwidden didn't let him finish. AJ was never very accepting of praise, even if he deserved it. "Belay that, son. I just gave a chance for your potential to show through."

'For which I'm eternally grateful, sir I'm just-'

The Admiral could tell the Petty Officer had something else to say. "You're just what?"

Danny sighed. 'Sorry…about the way…my mom treated you. It was unfair of her, sir.'

AJ winced inwardly. Sidney Walden. Yeah, he had sure screwed up there. It was a dead heat as to whether his situation with Sidney or Meredith was worse. "Yeah, well, that's in the past, son. Now tell me more about this new position of yours…."

West Virginia

The persistent cold winter rain had finally begun to slack off, leaving a pristine sheen on roads and parking lots as the rain was slow to dry. No one noticed or cared about the beat-up cream colored elderly Ford pickup loaded down with junk in its bed that wheezed to a stop beside the gas station/convenience store dumpster.

As the driver door creaked open, a burly man dressed in a winter weather cap, and beat up brown coat pulled himself out of the truck and walked over to the large trash container. He noticed as he approached a larger than normal number of rats and mice scurried away into the darkness.

The grizzled man didn't pay much attention to them. Maybe there was more food in here than usual. That would make his job more unpleasant, but it didn't mean that was going to stop him. He nonchalantly flipped open the heavy plastic lid on the dumpster.

As if on cue, a large brown rat pulled himself out of the interior and stood on the mental rim of the contain and wiggled his bewhiskered pink nose at the man. Unfazed by the rat's audaciousness, he gently took the rat and tossed it aside.

Unperturbed by this action, the rat scampered away into the darkness to join his friends. The man watched as the rat disappeared into the inky night and then turned back to his work.

The stench that assaulted his nostrils was stronger than usual, so the man held his arm across his face for a moment and then composing himself, began rummaging through the contents of the dumpster. His alternately pushed and tossed aside papers, receipts, old food containers, and the occasional half eaten sandwich.

Then he spotted it. A nice boot, a military boot, to be exact, attached to a mannequin's leg. Must've been from some kind of military display he thought to himself. Hope I can find the other one…

The leg was lying on a black plastic bag next to a discarded oblong cake box. Maybe the other one is underneath… He reached down and with some effort is able to get the boot with the attached leg—still wearing its sock as well as the boot. Pretty good boot to put on a mannequin-! He looked closely at it for moment then his eyes went wide as he realized it wasn't from a mannequin. He quickly tossed the cadaver leg back toward the dumpster.

-TBC…