Mommy Dearest

Chapter 50
Life or Death

Harm wasted no time, nor did he deviate a fraction of inch from his course. He strode out of the elevator leaving Loren almost floundering in his wake and muttering about "damned obsessions". He handed his cover and briefcase off to Seaman Lucas with a terse, Put these in my office, please!" as he crossed the centre of the bull-pen straight towards the admiral's outer office.

Tiner had seen him coming and was on his feet almost before Ham had passed through the doorway, "Good morning, sir!"

"Any news from Pearl, Tiner?" Harm demanded.

"Sorry, sir, Nothing yet…"

"Dammit, Tiner… after twenty four hours, I expected to hear something! Why has there been no word?"

"Sir… I… I don't know…" the unfortunate Yeoman stammered.

"Tiner, it looks like you don't know a damn thing about anything!" Harm retorted, unknowing and perhaps even uncaring that his voice had risen in volume until he was on the verge of shouting.

Certainly his voice was loud enough to bring all activity in the bull-pen to a stop, and was also loud enough to attract the attention of A J Chegwidden.

Chegwidden was as impatient as Harm for news from the Pacific, and he had already torn Tiner a new six. But that was his prerogative. He was the Admiral, and Tiner was his Yeoman. Yes, his Yeoman, and while he permitted himself to rip Tiner up one side and down the other, he was double-damned if he was going to let a mere Commander poach on his preserves!

His growled, "Step into my office, Commander!" came as a shock to Harm who, with his back to the door to the inner office, hadn't been aware of it opening or the glowering presence of the former SeAL in the doorway.

He snapped to attention, and snapped, "Aye, aye, sir!" executed a drill-field perfect about face and marched into the inner office, the Admiral standing back to allow his junior entrance. Then turning to Tiner, Chegwidden said quietly "Please close the door, Tiner, and then carry on with whatever you were doing!"

Barely pausing long enough to hear Tiner's "aye, aye, sir!" Chegwidden stalked towards Harm who was standing rigidly at attention, halting by his left shoulder at an angle of ninety degrees to the direction in which Harm was facing.

"Did I die, or retire overnight Rabb?" He hissed into his subordinate's ear.

"Nossir!" Harm snapped out in reply.

"So…no-one thought I had died or retired, and made you JAG in my stead, then?" Chegwidden asked still in that dangerously quiet undertone.

"Nossir!"

"So… Who the hell gave you the authority, Mister…?" Chegwidden's voice rose to a quarterdeck roar so that Harm couldn't help but wince at the impact of that bellow at short range against his ear drum, "To abuse the JAG's Yeoman! My Yeoman, d'you hear? My Damn Yeoman!"

"No-one, sir!"

"Then I suggest you cease abusing my Yeoman, Commander," Chegwidden's voice resumed a normal conversational tone, "and carry out the duties which you been assigned. And if you must abuse a petty officer…Find your own damn Yeoman!" The last phrase was again delivered in a full throated bellow, clearly audible to the denizens of the bull-pen, who frowned and exchanged helpless shrugs, wondering what sort of mood the Commander would be in this morning after being on the receiving end of the Admiral's tongue.

Chegwidden, meanwhile, let his temper subside and after glaring at Rabb for a minute or more, he hissed, "Dismissed!"

Rabb's response and his about face would have brought nods of approval from the strictest of the Academy's DI's but on this occasion cut no ice with the irate Two Star.

As on the previous morning Harm attempted to appear unconcerned as he back-tracked across the bull-pen en route to his office, but again his body language and facial expression gave the lie to his bid to mask his emotions.

Harriet Sims drifted across to Loren's office, where the blonde attorney stood in front of the door, having been accosted by Mac. "Good morning, ma'am, Loren," Harriet greeted them both, as she saw their troubled gaze follow Harm across the bull-pen to his office,

"Morning, Harriet," Mac replied absently while Loren nodded her head in acknowledgement of the Office Manager's greeting.

"So… what's the story with the Commander?" Harriet tried again.

"Other than just have received a semi-public ass tearing from the Admiral?" Mac asked with heavy irony.

"Yes, ma'am, precisely that!" Harriet persisted, although the bite to her friend's words caused her to blush slightly.

Loren came to her rescue, "He's worried over what happened to Commander Turner. He isn't saying much…"

"Huh! When did he ever!" Mac interrupted with a bit of a snap in her voice.

Loren sent a speaking glance in the Marine's direction, "He isn't saying much," she repeated with heavy emphasis, almost as if daring Mac to interrupt again, "But from the little he's let slip he seems to think that Commander Turner's accident wasn't an accident, and the lack of news from Pearl is driving him crazy!"

"Or crazier than he is already!" Harriet said and then blushing more vividly she gave vent to a smothered giggle, "Oh! I don't mean that the Commander is… I meant no disresp…"

"It's alright Harriet, we know exactly what you meant! And I think we both agree with you. Don't we Lieutenant?" she added with a meaningful look at Loren.

"You betcha!" Loren agreed with such emphasis that the other two women stared at her in astonishment.

Becoming acutely conscious under their scrutiny, it was Loren's turn to blush, and silently cursing her mother for passing on her colouring, Loren hastened to explain, "It's just that living next door to Har… to the Commander, has… opened my eyes to some of his foibles…"

Mac cocked an eyebrow at Harriet, "Do tell…" she suggested,

Loren blushed again, now conscious that she had let slip more perhaps than she should. "Um… I've said too much already," she replied uneasily.

"Oh, no sister!" Harriet ventured, "You're not getting away with just saying that! We want dirt, young lady!"

Harriet's intervention sparked a memory and Loren relaxed, there was one snippet she could use, and as it involved her, she could be excused… well… almost!

Turning to Harriet she said in a confidential tone, "Well… remember when Jen had us both round to discuss the mom's mutual aid society?" Harriet nodded. "Remember too that I had a phone call? Well it was David Medwick, asking me out on a date."

"Medwick?" Mac queried, "I ought to know that name!"

"He's a pilot," Loren admitted, staring at her shoes, "He flew with the Commander off the Patrick Henry…"

"Of course! He's the pilot Harm pushed to safety," she looked at the blank expressions on the others' faces. "When Harm… the Commander… was awarded his second DFC!"

"Of course!" Harriet exclaimed, "Our very own Tailhook incident!"

"Sort of rehabilitates the word, doesn't it?" Mac mused with a grin.

"Wait a minute!" Loren protested, sensing that if she could draw out this diversion, she might not have to divulge anything regarding Harm's foibles, "Are you two trying to tell me that David was the pilot Ham pushed to safety?"

"Yep!" Mac and Harriet chorused.

"He never told me about that!" Loren said with a strong sense of grievance plain to hear in her voice.

"Well, he wouldn't. The Commander doesn't brag!" Harriet fired up in Harm's defence.

"Oh! I'm not talking about Rabb!" Loren said furiously, "It's that idiot Medwick!"

Mac and Harriet exchanged bemused glance, and then as they both heard the shoe fall, they grinned at each other before Mac turned back to Loren, "So… What did Harm have to do with your date with Mister Medwick?" Mac asked slowly.

"Oh…" Loren looked helplessly from one to the other and saw matching predatory expressions in their faces and knew that she wasn't going to be able to stall for much longer. Her shoulders drooped slightly and she said, "OK… but if you tell anybody… anybody at all… I will kill you!"

"Cross my heart and hope to die!" Harriet said piously.

"Not a word shall cross my lips!" Mac swore, holding up her right pinkie finger.

"H'mph!" Loren snorted suspiciously, "OK… well, David – Medwick – arranged to pick me up on the Saturday night. It'd been so long since I'd been on a date that I was a little nervous, so Jen sort of acted as my hand-maid, picked my dress, helped with my hair and make-up, and then we went back to the big house to wait for David, and when we got there, Harm was sat right in the middle of the lounge with his personal weapon - in pieces, cleaning it, so he said. But Jen said he was using it to intimidate David, and remind him that Harm wouldn't be happy if I… if I was late home… or anything…" she finished lamely.

Mac and Harriet exchanged another look and then both gave a crack of laughter, attracting attention from all around the bull-pen and causing Loren to blush even more vividly.

"It's not funny" she protested, "He's way too over protective!"

"Yes, yes, it is funny!" Mac contradicted her as she mopped her eyes. "Don't you see, Loren, he's adopted you as his sister, and he's doing what any brother would do… it's just that being Harm, he just naturally had to go way over the top!"

The three officers stood for a few moments relishing their shared amusement before Harriet sighed, "I think I'll see what effect a cup of coffee has on the injured beast!" indicating Harm's closed office door.

"It's worked wonder in the past!" Mac agreed, and with a smiling nod of her head "See you later, ladies," she turned and headed in the direction of her own office, uneasily aware that she had spent too much time gossiping instead of working. But even as she made for her desk she thought 'Well, well, well, maybe Rabb was right! Loren Singer certainly has changed – and for the better! Maybe it won't be too difficult to let bygones be bygones and start over… '

xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx

Jen stared at the screen in front of her, something was niggling at the back of her mind… there was a connection between what she was seeing and something else… something she had seen or heard someplace else; she was sure of it. Reluctantly, she knew she was going to get her wrist slapped, she picked up her phone and after a further second's hesitation she punched in the number.

"Rabb!"

"Hullo Mister Rabb, this is Mrs Rabb," Jen said softly, but not so softly as to escape Angela's notice. Angela look across at her friend and mouthed silently, "want me to go?" pantomiming with her fingers a walking action and pointing to herself and the door, just in case Jen shouldn't get the message. Jen shook her head violently and beckoned Angela to come closer, tilting the phone away from her ear so that the other woman could hear.

On the other end of the line Harm felt the tension ooze away as he heard his wife's voice, and his reply was far less abrupt than his answer to the 'phone's summons, "Hey sweetheart… this is an unexpected pleasure…"

"Sorry sweetheart, this is business, not pleasure… at least I think it is." Jen confessed.

Harm sat upright in his chair again, his hand automatically reaching for a legal pad and pen.

"Go on," he invited her.

"Harm, can you remember the name of the officer at Pearl who screwed up Lieutenant Pearson's initial interview. You know, the one that had her crying to her parents?"

"Uh…" Harm thought quickly, "some sort of Slavic name… something 'fish'… oh, yeah Vookafish, or something like that, I remember it because it sounded like…"

"Never mind what it sounded like!" Jen interrupted hastily. Even a few short months of marriage had given her insight into Harm's way of thinking. "Could it have been Vukovic? I spell: Victor, Uniform, Kilo, Oscar, Victor, India, Charlie."

"It certainly sounds like it, Jen." Harm paused, "What have you been up to sweetheart?" he asked, a faint note of suspicion mixed with concern clearly audible to his wife.

"Oh… nothing much… we're just updating records over here… and Commander Lindsey's records came up…"

"Jen! You can't get involved in that shit-heap!" Harm protested.

"Oh, I'm not, I'm not," Jen denied, "It's just that looking at Lindsey's record, his primary emergency contact is his wife, but his second emergency contact is his sister, A Mrs Eleanor Vukovic."

For a moment Harm was distracted by an irrelevancy, "Eleanor? And Lindsey's first name is Theodore, right?"

Jen said, "Yes… but what has that got to do with… Oh God! Harm! His middle name is Franklin!" It was too much for Jen and she burst into a giggle.

"The poor bastard!" Harm commiserated, "No wonder he has delusions of grandeur!" But then returning to the matter in hand, "If Lindsey's sister has got a son…"

"And that son is a JAG at Pearl…" Jen finished for him.

"Then we have a giant economy sized two for the price of one can of worms!" Harm paused again for thought. "Jen this could be really big. I'll have to take it straight to the Admiral! You'd better let me have those emergency contact details… But then Jennifer Rabb, you get out of this case, and you stay out. Do you hear me!"

"I hear you… sir! But you're going to pay for that later… when I get you home!"

"Promises, promises," Harm murmured, but his mind was already busy planning how to present this piece of evidence in the best possible light to his CO, even as he scribbled down the information Jen read out to him.

"Ok then sweetheart, I'll see you at home. Love you."

"You'd better believe it, buster! Love you too," Jen's voice dropped to a low husky whisper that sent a frisson of anticipation running up Ham's spine, and to which he responded with a groan.

Jen giggled, and put the 'phone back on its cradle and looked up to see Angela gently shaking her head.

"What?" Jen asked.

"That was cruel!" Angela rebuked her.

"Oh, yeah… but it was so much fun!" Jen replied, and both women laughed as Angela headed back towards her own desk.

xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx

Harriet was just delivering an armful of files to Mac as Harm left his office, once more crossing the bull-pen as he headed towards the Admiral's office suite. Harriet cocked an eye as he passed them and turned to Mac, "Well! That's some attitude adjustment in just a short time!" she remarked.

"Yes… it is," Mac agreed and then narrowed her eyes, "He's up to something, Harriet. You mark my words!"

"Ma'am, when is the Commander not ever up to something?" Harriet chuckled, "After all, it's his schemes and plans that make this place an adventure, not just a career!"

Mac nodded glumly, "I just hope he knows what he's doing – this time!"

"Hope who knows what he's doing, sweetie?" Bud paused on his way to the elevators.

"The Commander," Harriet replied.

Bud looked over his shoulder just in time to see Harm disappear into the Admirals' office. "I shouldn't worry about him too much Harriet. He generally knows what he's doing. You just worry about yourself, OK? See you later?"

"Where are you off to Bud?" Harriet asked noting for the first time his briefcase and cover.

"Nowhere exciting, I'm just heading to the Navy Yard to interview a witness in my DDO case."

"Ok, sweetie, 'bye"

"Yeah… I'll be back for lunch… I hope!"

Harriet watched him go with a fond smile on her face, an expression that Mac, given certain other clues was quick to pick up,

"Just what did Bud mean, Harriet?" she asked.

Harriet crimsoned, "Uh… nothing ma'am… Why? When?"

"Harriet Sims! You are the world's worst liar! So don't give me that 'nothing, ma'am'!" When he said you were to just to worry about yourself…" then Mac's eyes flew open, "Harriet! Are you…" she nodded meaningfully in the direction of the blonde officer's stomach.

Forgetting military protocols, Harriet grabbed Mac by the elbow and hustled her into her office, "Not a word to anyone ma'am!" she said firmly as she closed the door behind them.

xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx

Chegwidden was surprised to see Harm back in his office so soon after having had his six chewed. Normal behaviour would have been for the younger officer to shut himself in his office and sulk for a while, but the Commander standing at attention in front of his desk, although looking apprehensive, also seemed to be almost bursting with news which he couldn't wait to deliver.

"At ease, Commander," he growled, "and get on with it, man!"

Harm relaxed from his brace, "Sir, I know you severed me from this case… but…"

"Yes, Commander. I did sever you, and with good reason! So if you have been meddling, then you had better have a good reason for disobeying my orders, a damned good reason!"

"Never wilfully disobeyed you sir, not in this. But, I have just come into possession – purely fortuitously – of information that might link Commander Lindsey to the mishandling of Lieutenant Pearson's interview in Pearl, and possibly, if my suspicions are well-founded, even to Commander Turner's mishap!"

"H'mm… what makes you think that Turner's mishap isn't just an accident, Commander?"

"Sir, Sturgis was stationed at Pearl. He knows those roads, plus he would have been in a navy sedan, not some high-powered sports car, he's not that kind of driver! He wouldn't just have run off the road!"

"All supposition, Commander."

"True sir, but based on my twenty years knowledge of the man."

"Alright… I'll grant you that Turner's accident may not have been an accident… May not, Commander, so don't go getting excited!"

"No, sir!"

"And now, what's this alleged link between the Pearson interview and Commander Lindsey."

"Sir, it was brought to my attention that Commander Lindsey has his sister listed as secondary emergency contact. Her married name is Vukovic, sir. Isn't that the name of the Lieutenant at Pearl that Sturgis went to investigate over the mishandling of Lieutenant Pearson's interview?"

"Dammit, Rabb!" Chegwidden spluttered, "Why didn't we catch this before? And just who brought it to your attention?"

"We didn't see it sir, because we weren't looking for a connection. It was found by accident while Commander Lindsey's SRB was being reviewed."

"I gave no such orders, Commander," Chegwidden's voice had once more dropped to a menacingly quiet level.

"No, sir, you didn't. The information came from outside this office, sir."

"From whom?" Chegwidden snapped.

"Uh… I'd rather not say, sir…"

"Dammit to hell and back Rabb, I could order you to tell me… I could…" and then realisation dawned and to Harm's surprise the former SeAL started to chuckle, "Rabb, Rabb, Rabb it's you I should have had posted out not your wife! That is one very smart young lady!"

"Yes, sir!"

"But she shouldn't be interfering in this case – or any case, for that matter, but this one particularly!"

"No, sir! But she is a notary, and therefore an officer of the court. She had knowledge of the case, so when she found information that might be pertinent, then she was obliged to bring it to the attention of the appropriate authority, sir!"

"But that appropriate authority is not you, Commander!"

"No, sir! But she approached me, as her husband, for advice, and I offered to take on the task of inform the authorities, sir!"

"Rabb, that is the most blatant snow job I've ever heard!"

"Yes sir!"

"But it was well spotted! Tell Mrs Rabb that I said that!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Very well, Rabb, dismissed!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Chegwidden watched the door close behind the Commander and shook his head in resignation. Rabb might be the biggest single cause of his astronomical consumption of Aspirin, but the younger man had a tenacity and a determination to get to the truth that almost outweighed all his other transgressions and faults – almost!

But… Rabb had calmed down, in fact he had calmed down a lot since his marriage. Chegwidden shook his head. He had taken a hell of a chance in turning a blind eye to the burgeoning romance between the then then Petty Officer Coates and Rabb. By rights he should have keel-hauled their asses and had them both posted, one to Adak and the other to Keflavik, or to have the pair of them court-martialled, sent to the brig and kicked out of the navy. He still wasn't quite sure why he hadn't, perhaps it had been thought of Coates' baby being born in the brig – no child deserved that, no matter what its mother might have done. So he had chosen to follow a very loose interpretation of the regulations, and 'counselled' them instead. His gamble, his intuitive feeling that they were good for each other seemed to have paid off. Rabb had certainly… well… matured, and on his visits to the SecNav, A J had found the opportunity to stick his head in Coates – no, Rabb's office – just to make his number with her, and found her, happy, relaxed, confident and… and… yes, glowing! An added bonus had been the restoration of harmony at JAG HQ; without the constant sexual tension fuelled altercations between Rabb and MacKenzie it was certainly a much more peaceful working environment than hitherto! The hell with it anyway! If some snide sonofabitch wanted to make anything of his irregular behaviour in future, he had enough years in to retire and live comfortably off his pension!

A J Chegwidden shook his head; in the meantime he had work to do. "Tiner" he yelled.

His office door opened, "Yes,sir?"

"Get me a printout of Lieutenant Vukovic's page two, - he's stationed at Pearl - and remind me to make a call to Pearl at thirteen hundred!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx

Harm returned to his office feeling happier now that he had at last made some sort of contribution to the Lindsey case, and devoutly thankful that the Admiral had chosen to disregard his skirting, at the very least, of disobeying a direct order, and even more thankful that he hadn't decided to probe too deeply into Jen's part of the affair. Still all they had really done between them was to bring a pertinent fact to light. Oh, yeah, and who are you trying to fool? Yourself? He asked silently as he laid his hand on his office door.

"Harm! Hold up a minute, please!"

Harm turned towards the sound of Mac's voice. She was walking towards him with a second Marine Officer at her shoulder.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Harm allow me to introduce Lieutenant Colonel Peter Bryce. Colonel Bryce this is Commander Harmon Rabb." Mac paused as the two men silently acknowledged one another.

Mac licked her lips, an unusual sign of nerves, Harm though as he waited for her obvious continuation, "Colonel Bryce is Master Gunnery Sergeant James' CO, Harm. I was bringing him up to date on the case, and he has some… concerns. Can you spare us a few minutes?"

Harm shrugged, he already had a feeling of the subject to be broached, but… "Sure, come on in."

Harm indicated the visitors' seats and seated himself behind his desk, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers just below his chin. He said nothing, waiting until Mac and Colonel Bryce had taken their seats and were prepared to open the conversation. He did not have long to wait.

"I called Colonel Bryce yesterday evening about Master Gunnery Sergeant James," Mac began, "and we discussed several aspects of his case. He was particularly… perplexed by your hard-line attitude, Harm. And he's come straight from Quantico today to see if we can at least get the death penalty off the table."

"Mac," Harm sighed, "All James has got to do is show some sign of genuine remorse, and give us the names of the money men and I'll be more than happy to go for life instead of death. But he's got to give us something."

"Commander," Colonel Bryce broke in, "Doesn't his past record count for anything? I don't know what's gotten into the Master Gunnery Sergeant, but this is totally out of character. The man's got twenty six years of exemplary service behind him, including Panama, Grenada, Bosnia, both Gulf Wars and most recently Afghanistan."

Harm shook his head, "I'm sorry Colonel, that record is just ashes in the wind now. He crashed and burned as soon as he sold the first consignment of weapons. In fact," Harm continued as he developed his train of thought, "his record may even make things worse. He's been in country and from what you've said, he's probably seen some of his buddies killed or wounded. To me that makes his actions worse, and not act as a mitigating factor. He not only betrayed his country, Colonel, but he betrayed the Corps and his fellow Marines, especially those who came home covered by a flag! Give me something more than previous good conduct. His record may just mean that he never got caught before!"

"Harm, shouldn't a man's life be judged by the sum of his actions, good and bad, and not just by one foul-up?"

Harm looked Mac straight in the eye, "Didn't Corporal Farmer try that same argument, Mac?" he asked gently.

Mac went pale, and Harm gave himself a mental savage kick from raking up an episode that Mac had found extremely painful at the time. He had hoped that her reaction wouldn't be too severe, but he needed to make Mac see that James' action were as potentially as lethal as had been Farmer's.

Mac gulped and rallied, "Harm, James never pulled the trigger and killed and wounded half his platoon," she objected.

"No, he didn't," Harm agreed, "He did worse; he sold weapons to men who would be more than happy to kill and wound half a battalion if they could."

"Commander, Master Gunnery Sergeant James has a wife, to whom he's been married for twenty two years, and three daughters from twenty-one down to fifteen. Even if you don't believe he deserves consideration, do you think they should be deprived of him for the remainder of their lives?" Bryce played his final card.

"Colonel, do you think it was fair that thousands people lost their loved ones in the Twin Towers, or in the Pentagon or aboard United Flight ninety three? Remember James was selling weapons to people that shared the aims of those who hi-jacked those airliners and used them as missiles to launch an unannounced attack on our country."

Bryce's face fell, "Is that your last word, Commander?"

"Unless and until James starts co-operating, then I'm sorry, Colonel, yes, that is my last word."

Bryce stood and to Harm's surprise he offered his hand, "Thank you, Commander for your time, and for listening to me." He nodded at Harm and Mac, adding to the latter, "I'll wait for you, outside, Colonel."

Mac waited until Bryce had left and then she shook her head sadly, "I just don't get why you're being such a hard-ass over this, Harm."

"Because I have to be Mac. You cannot possibly think I'm enjoying this!" Harm protested.

"Not for a single moment, flyboy," Mac said gently, "I just hope that if this goes through, it doesn't destroy you Harm. It was hard enough having to witness Farmer's execution; I don't think I could have carried on being a trial attorney if I had been the prosecutor arguing for the death penalty." She rose to her feet and gave Harm a grave smile, "I'll see you later… I still need to speak with Colonel Bryce."

Harm waited until she had left the floor and then headed for the men's bathroom, where he stripped his jacket and rolled up his sleeves before filling a wash basin with cold water and cupping his hands brought them up to his face, heedless of the water that splashed his shirt.

For a couple of minutes he stood with his arms braced leaning on the wash basin while he gasped for air and fought down waves of nausea.

Partially recovering his composure, he said silently, 'Please James, tell me something so I can take death off the table… Oh God… I hate doing this… I don't want him to die… Please make him tell me something I can use!'

xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx

Mac sat in her office, idly nibbling on the end of a pencil. The Harm that was standing firm on the death penalty for James was not the Harm she thought she knew. No, dammit! He was the same Harm, she had seen it in his eyes, that he was sickened by thought of being a death-seeking prosecutor. There was definitely more behind his unprecedented behaviour than meets the eye, she decided.

Standing, she smoothed her skirt over her thighs and marched determinedly across the bull-pen towards the Admiral's Office.

"Is he free to speak with me, Tiner?"

"He's free, ma'am, I'll check for you… Sir," he spoke into the intercom, "Colonel MacKenzie would like to know if you can spare her a few minutes?"

"OK, Tiner, send her in!"

"You heard, ma'am?"

"Yes, thank you!" Mac turned and rapped on the door frame, waiting for Admiral to bid her to enter.

"What can I do for you Colonel?" Chegwidden asked as she came to a halt in front of his desk.

"It's about Commander Rabb, sir."

Chegwidden stifled a groan; was it only a couple of hours ago that he had been congratulating himself that since his marriage Rabb had stopped pressing MacKenzie's buttons?

"What's he done this time, Colonel?" he asked heavily.

"Oh! Oh, no! Nothing like that sir… It's… well… I'm worried about him."

Chegwidden looked up at her; yes it was true, there was an expression of concern on her face.

"Take a seat, Mac, he said, and tell me what's got you bothered about Rabb?"

Mac seated herself in her accustomed chair and for a moment or two played with the hem of her skirt where it lay across her knees.

Chegwidden smiled to himself; he had seen this performance before when the normally self-assured Marine Colonel wasn't quite so confident as usual.

At last Mac spoke, "Sir this a bit awkward for me, because I'm here as Harm's friend, but I'm also his opposing counsel in the James case. It may seem that I'm just trying an end run around Harm as prosecutor, but it's not that sir, I promise you."

"I know it's not, Mac, go on, spit it out."

"Sir, Harm's pushing for the death penalty in this case, and he's being totally intransigent, he won't listen to me, he wouldn't even listen to James' CO who came to plead his prior good record. In fact, Harm said his record made his crime – his alleged crime," Mac corrected herself, "even worse. And I was just wondering, sir, if you were aware of any reason why Harm should be pushing so hard for the death penalty. Harm's never even seen an execution, but I have. It's not pretty. Sir, I'm worried what a case like this might do to him…" her voice trailed off miserably.

Chegwidden regarded her steadily for a long few moments, "Colonel, I trust that you are not implying that Commander Rabb has let himself be influenced by outside agencies, forces or superior officers, or that I am would use my influence to coerce or persuade him to abandon a course of action that is quite proper given the severity of the alleged offences?"

"Oh, No, sir! No, nothing like that… It's just that I am really worried about him! I would never ask you to use undue command influence!"

"I am relieved to hear it Colonel! Alright, I'll try to talk to Rabb, lawyer to lawyer. Now, if you'll excuse me, even if you have no work to do, I'm too far too busy to spending the whole day in conversation with you! Much as I might enjoy it!" he added with a flash of his rare smile.

"I'll leave you in peace, then, sir!" Mac returned his smile as she stood.

"Very well, Colonel, dismissed!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Chegwidden mused for a few moments on the strange case of the intransigent attorney, but perhaps it wasn't so strange after all, Rabb had always been liable to target fixation and had an obsessive streak him a mile wide. But as Mac had said, Rabb had never seen an execution, and it may be that despite his new-found maturity, he hadn't quite grasped the concept that actions sometimes had consequences.

His train of thought was disturbed however by the buzz of the intercom, and Tiner's voice, "It's just coming up to thirteen hundred, sir. You wanted reminding about making a call to Pearl."

"Yes, I did, thank you, Tiner!"

Chegwidden consulted his note pad and dialled the number he had written down earlier. After what seemed an age he heard the ring tone at the other end of the line, which ended as a female voice said, "Saunders."

"Good morning Commander, this A J Chegwidden."

He smiled to himself as he heard a gasp and choking noise at the far end of the line as Commander Saunders' mouthful of coffee went down the wrong hole.

"Good morning sir!" at last came a still somewhat breathless reply.

"What news on Commander Turner, Commander?"

"He's one very lucky man, sir! His car was found wedged against a tree about one hundred and fifty feet below the road. If he wouldn't have hit the tree then it was another two, maybe three hundred feet straight down into the ocean."

"He's lucky to be alive then, Commander!"

"He certainly is, sir!"

"H'mm… have you managed to speak with him yet?"

"Yes, sir, He'd carried out an initial interview with Lieutenant Vukovic, and is carefully not saying what he thought of the Lieutenant, sir."

"I see… let's leave that issue to one side for the moment. Did you talk about his mishap?"

"We did, sir," and it seemed to Chegwidden that Saunders voice became graver, "He says he was driving carefully, because although he knows that road he was driving an unfamiliar vehicle, a Crown Victoria from the motor pool at Pearl, but some time before the crash he thought he felt the steering becoming heavier and then the steering became impossible, he put his foot on the brakes, and nothing… he couldn't steer and he couldn't stop, and with a bend in the road just ahead of him… over the edge was the only place he could go."

"What does that suggest to you, Commander?"

"It suggests, sir, that once the Commander's car is recovered, then I have NCIS forensics go over it with a fine-tooth comb, while I examine every i and every t in the vehicle maintenance records sir!"

"You suspect that the car was tampered with, Commander?"

"Either that sir, or there's some serious dereliction of duty charges to be levied against the motor pool maintenance crew, sir!"

"Well... let's just hope it's the latter! Thank you, Commander!"

"Yes, sir!"