Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles,
Ch26 – "Inquisition of the Inquisition"
A/N: AU. What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?
A/N – link to Canon Episodes: "Webb of Lies" (S04Ep14) first broadcast 09-Feb-1999. A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "JAG Season 24…" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would start broadcasting around 20-Sep-2018).
A/N: Publication date: 26-06-2020: Edging our story (and the Rabb family) over the line into 2019.
Notes: Mike, UK, 26-Jun-2020 – msg... Continuing the response to my (anonymous) guests and their suggestions from Ch24&25. Disney channel warning for "mild language."
Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC
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Ch26 – "Inquisition of the Inquisition"
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Friday 28th December 2018 – 10:25hrs EST
Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:
"Good morning Admiral; I am NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee; this is my colleague – 'Very' Special Anthony DiNozzo." Tim's tone gave a clear impression of imaginary "air quotation marks" as he pronounced the "special" part of Tony's title.
Harm smiled in welcome: "Gentlemen; glad to welcome you. Please come on in."
Caitlin and Trisha introduced themselves, then the NCIS agents brought out their notebooks and the information gathering began. A copy of the offending newspaper sat on the coffee table.
Tim McGee outlined the approach.
"Basically we have them on a slam-dunk. You, Mrs Rabb, will know the libel laws as a lawyer. From our point of view, the Patriot Act gives additional protections to the families of serving US services personnel and retirees – so you are both covered, as is Midshipman Pike. They've screwed up, so when do we go ruin their Christmas?"
Harm looked at Caitlin, who nodded and looked at Trisha.
"Agent McGee; let them stew over Christmas and the New Year celebrations. We shall maintain a dignified silence until next week. The Supervisory Board know about this foul-up and the lies, so they were fully supportive in the Christmas Eve video-conference - there was an emergency board meeting on Christmas Eve. Hell, let's ruin January for them."
"OK Admiral, your wishes are duly noted; we shall include you in the raid and we shall schedule that for the first week in January. Happy New Year, one and all."
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Thursday 3rd January 2019 – 09:56hrs EST
Headquarters of the "National Inquisition", Grub Street, Washington DC
The delegation which trooped into the editor's office was impressive. Two smartly-dressed men whose bearing and attitude screamed "Federal Agent", accompanying a sharply-suited lady whose outfit screamed "lawyer" (along with "pissed-off momma bear"), were followed into the room by a USN Admiral - with a chest full of medals below his aviator wings – and a Midshipman from the US Navy Academy at Annapolis.
"Agent McGee, Naval Criminal Investigative Service; we are here to see your editor – immediately!" Tim had emphasised the "Criminal" part of his agency's title and smiled (like a shark lining up its favourite skipjack tuna appetiser) as he finished the sentence.
The poor editor's PA made the fatal mistake of looking inadvertently at the door marked "Editor". Tony DiNozzo was across the floor like a pouncing cat, opening both doors and standing aside once more to let McGee lead.
"Mrs Winterbourne, I tried to stop them…" the PA's voice trailed off as McGee and DiNozzo rounded up three chairs (one for Caitlin) then sat down unbidden, with Harm and Trisha standing behind them.
You could have heard a pin drop, for several seconds, before McGee began his opening remarks.
The basic sentiment was "You are screwed; just how deeply depends upon how you co-operate with this Federal investigation."
"So, I would like to introduce you to Admiral Harmon D. Rabb jr, Superintendent of the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis. To give you credit, you *did* actually identify him correctly."
He paused: "We also want to introduce you to the reason why you may be serving time in a Federal Penitentiary – the young second-class midshipman, whom you accused of having – what was it? - Oh yes."
He read from his notebook:
"a young female midshipman who is young enough to be his daughter. This includes off-site trysts and private flying lessons in his vintage bi-plane, plus evening and overnight rendezvous in his official residence, Buchanan House on the Academy campus."
He speared the Editor with an icy glance. "Allow me to introduce you to Admiral Rabb's daughter, Trisha Pike. The family preserves her anonymity at the Academy (with the full knowledge of the Academy's Supervisory Board) to give her a chance of a normal life as an Academy Midshipman."
The editor's face was steadily losing colour and her shoulders were slumping steadily. McGee then smiled and turned to indicate the suited lady seated at his left. "I also feel it only fair to warn you that Admiral Rabb's wife – and the mother of midshipman Pike – is here as well. She is a practising lawyer."
"Oh dear." The editor was looking for a tunnel under her desk, wishing for an escape route.
"Well, Mrs Winterbourne, that is a good start – however, what we need to ascertain for our NCIS investigation is the source of your misinformation and – most importantly – how in the hell you failed to carry out basic checks on your source, your information and the accusation before libelling the Admiral and his daughter – not to mention pissing-off Mrs Rabb most egregiously."
As they had planned, Harm joined in with his one and only line. "Look Mrs Winterbourne, I am happy to defend free speech – indeed, I have served in the US Navy for nearly 30 years, but this Grade-A gold-plated fuck-up *must* have gone through some basic checks. How the hell did you get it so wrong before publicly offending my daughter, my wife and myself – not to mention ruining our Christmas with innuendo and error published in tens of thousands of copies the length and breadth of our great nation? This level of fuck-up *must* have involved a team effort - surely?"
Harm sat down and folded his arms across his chest, as all eyes in the room turned to the editor. To her credit, she looked contrite (in fact, she basically had nowhere to hide!).
"OK, Agent McGee, Admiral - and Mrs Rabb and Miss Pike. I find myself unable to explain how this article made it through to publication. It should have been checked at four separate stages, yet seems to have slid through untouched and out into print in our pre-Christmas issue."
"Then how the fu…" Caitlin paused as Harm placed a restraining hand on her forearm as she rose from her chair. Her deliberately-chosen spike heels were ready to inflict serious damage on the carpet in the Editor's office – and then someone's head, if Caitlin Rabb was given half a chance! In the seven weeks since Samuel's birth, she had been exercising hard, with Faith Coleman as her exercise buddy. Her leg muscles were back in top stomping form and Caitlin Rabb was getting ready to stomp on someone's head!
By way of contrast, Trisha stood quietly and calmly behind her mom, her midshipman uniform gleaming from cap badge to toecaps.
Harm picked up the conversation. "Mrs Winterbourne, what my wife means is; why did you not vet or check your sources? If you had done so, then you would have realised what is now clearly a pathetic, laughably-wrong handle on a set of photographs. Also, why on earth would you not check with your victims?"
He paused, before continuing. "Oh excuse, me, I meant the subject of your woefully inept 'investigation' into my Academy. What on earth persuaded your paper that it made sense not even to contact the victim/subjects? You already had your alleged 'evidence' so we wouldn't be able to change anything. Therefore you could have published in the next edition after CHECKING YOUR FACTS... But it would have saved you the embarrassment, costs and professional embarrassment of being proven to be an inept bunch of investigative fuck-wits."
"Well, the reporter wanted to get the story out before he finished and headed to the hospice."
"OK, sounds serious; what was the diagnosis?"
"Terminal prostate cancer; he always looked fairly robust, but when he transferred in from California in the summer, he let us know that he didn't have much time left and so he wanted to get this one last story filed, based upon a whisper he'd picked up from his sources."
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"OK, what's this joker's name and where is the hospice?"
"His name is Palmer Clarkson; he headed home to San Diego for Christmas."
"Wait – did you say Palmer Clarkson?"
Harm's suspicion antennae were flapping. "This would all make a lot more sense if…"
"Do you have a photograph of him?"
The editor, now thoroughly subdued, brought out a picture from a folder on her desk and handed it across; Caitlin was sitting closer so she took the photograph first.
"Good Lord, that could be Dennis 'the arsehole' Brockman", she observed.
Despite a bushy beard and tinted spectacles, Harm was clear enough that the photograph was definitely a strong contender to be Clark Palmer. This type of character-assassination shit-storm was right in keeping with Palmer's old DSD antics. "No, that's Palmer - he's an older adversary from JAG days. Funnily enough, I can remember Mac saying to me (when we were JAG colleagues): 'Don't try to get into Palmer's head, Harm. It's not a nice place to be.' She was right."
He turned back to the editor. "So how in the hell did you employ him?"
"Our proprietors out in California emailed to say that he was transferring for six months to be close to his ex-wife and children before he went back to California for the hospice." The editor was looking more uncomfortable by the minute.
"Let me guess, you never met his family members?" Harm had slipped into investigative salami-slicing interrogation technique former JAG mode.
"Well, now that you mention it…" Her voice tailed away to another embarrassed halt.
"This makes a lot more sense; OK, I am going to hand you across to my lawyers, from Lowell & Hanson. They will work with you on a retraction, correction, followed by an injunction to protect my family's privacy – current and future - and a compensation package. After that, agents McGee and DiNozzo here are going to take you through the provisions of a nasty piece of US legislation called the Patriot Act. The provision which affects you is protection of US military families and dependents from harassment and disturbance – which was your crime with that recent pre-Christmas edition."
He paused: "And from now until the day after Hell freezes over, you do NOT mention this midshipman's connection to the Admiral and his family – got it? Your retraction should represent the finest and highest traditions of newspaper journalism – namely, publicly confirming that you fucked up and that you are very, very sorry."
Another embarrassed nod confirmed that the editor knew where her fate lay.
The Rabb family were ready to leave the editor in the capable hands of NCIS. As she stood alongside DiNozzo, Caitlin pressed upon his foot with the pointed toe of her stiletto shoe and whispered in his ear: "My daughter; off-limits. You touch her, you die." She then smiled sweetly at him as she lifted her foot, ready to walk forward.
DiNozzo nodded: "Message received momma bear. Already avoiding the bear-cub!"
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Thursday 3rd January 2019 – 10:48hrs EST
Parking lot, outside the HQ of the "National Inquisition", Grub Street, Washington DC
The delegation re-grouped briefly. Tim McGee had been running background on the information provided on "Palmer Clarkson".
"Admiral, the address given on the West Coast has an ex-Naval aviator listed – he was dishonourably discharged a few years back."
"OK Agent McGee, what name?"
"Buxton, Admiral. Andrew Buxton."
Harm face tightened. "Goddam X-Man; I knew I should have buried that arsehole". He turned to McGee and his family. "X-man was some lunatic hot-shot Tomcat driver – he mis-identified the Russian flag and wiped out a troop-carrier full of peacekeepers back in '99. I defended him and saved his ass but he should never have been put back in the air – which is why I declined to be his defence when he faced the second charge. What's he gotten himself into now?"
Caitlin would tell, from her husband's tense shoulders and gritted teeth, that "X-Man" Buxton was not long for this world.
However, in Harm's mind it was "Palmer Clarkson" who would be put to the sword first. That was an outcome with which Mrs Rabb could entirely agree.
"Don't fuck with the Rabb family."
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The plot thickened!
End Ch26 – "Inquisition of the Inquisition"
Notes: Mike, UK, 26-Jun-2020 – msg...