Beyond the Rivers of Jordan
Book 1: River Crossings
Chapter 7
JAG Internal Network
Log entry no: 20017444
"Walking away isn't easy, but sometimes it's the right thing to do."
User ID: Harm
'The Fifth Avenue'
Rendezvous Hotel
Behind Grand Central Station
1945 ZULU
Harm raised his left eyebrow not sure if he was more disgusted, or amused.
"Oh come on, Harm! Have a sense of humor!" Renee elbowed him, making him raise it higher. She was referring to the sissified P.R. at the podium whom she had of course chosen, as Bobbi's publicity consultant. Sturgis sat on Harm's right and giggled a bit to himself, before saying, "Yeah Harm, have a sense of humor!"
Harm shot him a warning glare. The Hammer was not in the mood to be patronized. He had known there had to be some other reason Bobbi had wanted him to be here tonight, but he had no idea it was to that extent, and he couldn't believe the Admiral hadn't forewarned him.
"…And NOW ladies and gentlemen," the man on the stage dramatized exaggeratedly, much to the audiences' amusement, "without further adieu, I'm am DEEPLY privileged, and TREMENDOUSLY honored, to present to you the mesmerizing…the beautiful…the morally upright…" He made laughter go off all over the ballroom amongst the black ties attending, and proudly kept on going, "the SEXY…" earning a couple of catcalls, making Bobbi to shake her head in amusement. Then he paused, just to give the whole speech greater effect, and finished his solo by saying, "the lady who's shamelessly buying every single one of you dinner, in bid to secure your vote I might add…now that she's running for senate and all," the crowd laughed some more, adding to his satisfaction, "Candidate for the coming Senate elections, Congresswoman Bobbi Latham!"
The room stood to give her a standing ovation as she got up from her seat and moved to the podium. Harm grudgingly followed suit.
Sturgis continued clapping, "You have a choice..."
Harm frowned at the other, "What makes you think I can't win it?"
The other rolled his eyes, "You don't have a case, Harm."
"According to you, Sturgis, I've never had a winnable case." He argued back.
Sturgis had to agree, "You represent unusual clients my friend…"
"Excuse me, counsels, but could you two save the closing arguments for one night?" Renee chided as the applause died down and they sat back down into their seats.
They watched as Bobbi took a moment to make eye contact with everyone in the room, and then she opened, "If there's one thing I want to make sure you remember when you go home tonight…its that the dinner is offensively expensive."
The guests laughed, and one man shouted out, "You have my vote, Congresswoman!"
"Careful, Derek…I'll sue if you don't." Laughter broke out again.
"By the way if any of you has a campaign coming up," Bobbi referred to her herald, "Enrique is available for…how much was it, Ms Peterson?" she said into the mike.
"Two dollars and hour!" Renee joked back.
"You can't win what's not yours to win…what are you going to do? Shoot up the courtroom?" Sturg whispered to Harm.
"Ah! There you have it…he'll butter you up good and if yours isn't the hottest scandal on tomorrows' tabloids…you can have your money back!" Bobbi remarked.
"It worked once…" Harm muttered back.
The crowd broke out in applause and another round of laughter for the last comment.
"Isn't she great?" Renee whispered.
"Perfect," he replied sarcastically.
Don't feel sorry for me.
***********
Dining Room
Bud and Harriet's Residence
"That was fantastic, Harriet!" Mic smacked his lips in satisfaction.
"Now you're exaggerating, Mic…"
"Honest, luv! The best!" he defended, giving her a firm kiss on the cheek as she bent over to clear his plate.
"Now, now, Commander, not something you should be doing in front of your future wife…AND my husband for that matter," Harriet jokingly chided him.
"No problem, sir…you can carry my wife away anytime…" Bud remarked and instantly got a warning look from Harriet.
Mic laughed heartily and asked, "I'll bet that includes the kid too, mate?"
"Maybe I'll be able to get some peace and quiet…" Bud replied, grinning.
"Aw…you're a good little fellow aren't 'ya?" Mic reached across Mac and messed up baby AJ's hair, much to the child's annoyance. As Mic continued his conversation with his father, the little one reached up to fiddle with his hair in bid to rearrange it, but only succeeded ruffling it more so.
You suppose we'll have one of our own someday?
Mac smiled half-heartedly at the pouting kid sitting in the high chair next to her and began gently pushing the hair away from his face and neatly into place. As she did so the image of Harm doing the same so many times before flashed briefly before her. She sighed, whispering to AJ, "You don't like that too much, huh?" The little one peered back at her while holding on to the two handles on his cup and drinking the juice inside. He absently shook his head in reply before putting his drink back down. Mac lifted the last spoonful of his dinner and he opened his mouth wide.
Someday.
"Here it comes, sailor…" They both chomped down sharing a solid grin, the older mimicking the younger in his actions. "More?" Mac enquired. He shook his head, concentrating on chewing.
Ha. Don't make promises you can't keep.
"All done, huh?" she made conversation as she began clearing his tray. He managed to muffle a 'yweah' as he continued chewing, making her smile. Mac picked up his cup and then used her free hand smooth his hair back neatly one more time before disappearing into the kitchen. She placed the items into the sink, and then began helping by drying off the dishes the other had finished with. Harriet observed the mournfully resolute look in the others eyes, and asked, "You okay?"
Are you happy for you?
Mac nodded silently, and then said, "…you could have taken out the wine…"
"Naah, juice was good…" the other gave in reply.
"With steak, Mrs Roberts?" Mac raised and eyebrow amused.
Harriet giggled and elbowed her for blowing the lid on her excuse, "Thanks!" They both laughed for a bit more, but let the joke die down into seriousness finally.
Do you love him?
"You don't have to do this, you know?" Harriet spoke once more.
"Do what?" Mac replied calmly.
"Pretend that everythings' okay when its not."
Do you love Renee?
Mac glanced at her once more then returned to drying the dishes. Harriet finished off the last plate and turned to appeal once more, "You can still walk away…" The other dried off the plate handed to her, then her hands, and then answered as she tossed the cloth aside, whispering back,
"I already did."
Mac started out into the dining room. Harriet followed.
…Its five years…not a life sentence.
**********
'The Fifth Avenue'
Rendezvous Hotel
Behind Grand Central Station
Harm stepped out onto the windy terrace, closing the door behind him. He could feel instant relief from the chattering crowd on the other side of the wooden separator. Instant relief from the invisible darts of American politics flying across and around the room, all behind your back; instant relief from a certain congresswoman and close friend's flirtatious banter. Safe from the wiles of a certain P.R. named Enrique whom he was fairly certain was gay; safe from the silent, angry darts Renee was throwing at him. Harm shivered at the cold bite of the night wind, tucking his hands tightly under his dinner blazer, but then told himself, better this than Renee's disdain. And then couldn't help but revise, better this than her disdain.
"Running away from the rest of the world?" a voice came from Harm's back left hand corner. He immediately turned his head, to see an old gentlemen with a cane in one hand and brown envelope in the other gracefully saunter toward him. He was in a tuxedo, so it was straight away apparent he was one of Bobbi's many guests.
Harm was slightly taken aback, and looked at the other quizzically, "…s-sorry?"
"The party," the other lifted his cane at the guests behind the french-windows, still going strong.
Oh! Harm gave a look of understanding. The man had an unusual accent, one that sounded slightly mixed, Harm noted, "Yes, sir…American politics has never been my cup of tea."
"Mmm…" the other nodded, "me neither…but sometimes we can't help but find ourselves unwilling participants in the game of charades."
"I take it you're not an ardent supporter of Congresswoman Latham, sir?" Harm guessed.
"Oh no, son," the old man replied, "Don't misunderstand, the congresswoman and I have vested interest in one another's work. You?"
"Me? I'm her no. one fan…" Harm joked.
"Ah yes…the congresswoman's pin-up boy! Rabb…you were on that case recently…" the man recognized, wagging his cane at Harm before settling it on the railing where Harm was.
"Hazard…" Harm replied.
"Yes, that's it…Your name, son?"
"Oh I'm sorry," Harm apologized, raising his hand, "Harmon Rabb…Jr."
"Nathan Samuelle," he replied, "I'm an associate of the congresswoman's"
They shook hands before leaning onto the railing. Harm glanced to his left and commented, "That's a very elegant cane…"
"That it is…" the other absently replied before continuing, " So, I take it you were dragged unwillingly into this?"
"To the party?" Harm confirmed, "Yeah, I mean no…I…sorry, I've just been a little tired of late, mind isn't functioning too well…"
"Why don't we sit down then…" he motioned Harm towards the bench just behind them, and they both settled down. "Beautiful night is it not?" the other commented.
"That it is, sir," Harm replied.
"So, for the sake of pointless conversation, tell me about yourself."
"Myself?"
"Career, family…whatever. Its better than being in there with all those political weenies."
Harm grinned, "That is true. Erm, let's see then. Not married…so no kids either, dad was a Navy pilot, but he shot down in Nam. I spent the better part of my life searching for him only to find out he was dead…and that I had a brother…its complicated, why don't we just skip it…"
"The son who's been painfully trying to follow in his father's footsteps…"
Harm shifted uncomfortably and laughed a little, "Seems like a lot of people make that observation…"
"If I had a son I would want him to move on, but nevertheless its an honor to a father to be loved and admired so by his children."
"Mmm, I prefer to say a good father is the crowning pride of his children." Harm answered before continuing, "And yourself, sir? Do you have children?"
"Well…" the other exhaled, "I had a son…but I lost him years back…"
"I'm sorry…"
"No no…what's done can't be undone…if he was still alive I reckon he'd be around your age…married, children maybe. So what's the story? Why is an eligible young bachelor like yourself alone? Playing the field perhaps?"
"I wish that were the case," Harm laughed.
"Hmm…occupational hazard then?"
Harm laughed some more at the irony of his statement, then replied, "My girlfriend's inside…Ms Peterson, the congresswoman's publicity consultant…"
"Ha…I see…well…"
"Not what you expected?"
"Can't say that, no."
"Well, you and the rest of the world," Harm commented bitterly.
"Does it matter?" the old man raised and eyebrow, causing Harm to ponder the matter further.
"No," he finally said, "I don't suppose it should."
"Is there someone else perhaps…"
Harm felt queezy, uncomfortable that a stranger was probing thus far into another strangers life, but the old man persisted, "that's it isn't it?"
"…."
"So it is…why not her then?"
"She loves another man." Harm simply replied, slightly shocked at himself for opening up to a stranger. He assumed this was what people meant when they talked about it being easier to tell a stranger you deepest secrets. And some part of him probably did want to talk. Mac had always been his only true confidante, but that had obviously changed forever. She was once his eye of calm in every storm…now, he wasn't so sure. He wasn't so sure if they'd set themselves up for the fall or let fate lead them on in emotional trifles only to be betrayed in the deepest of consequence. Whatever the case, the greater part of him now believed the present state of affairs had been inevitable. Looking back, he felt like that there had never been a time where he had been in control, as though control had been but an illusion that had conned him into a false sense of security. He felt helpless, like a powerless pawn of mere amusement in God's brutal game of chess. Maybe that was how Mac felt, he thought. It seemed liked they had worked so hard their entire lives only to loose all, unwillingly subject to the unrelenting whims of fate's fancy. Without her, it was as though all that was good in his life seemed meaningless and trivial in the shadow of loves lost, crusades devastated. All the past seemed to become present once again, resurrected by the turmoil of jaded emotions.
"You don't seem one to relent…"
"Sometimes walking away is the right thing to do."
**********
Baby AJ's room
Bud and Harriet's Residence
Rowdy laughter bellowed up from downstairs, stirring the child who had been about to drift off once more. Harriet and Mac both frowned in annoyance before the former yelled down from where they were beside AJ's cot.
"Bud! AJ's trying to sleep!"
"Sorry, honey!" the reply came back up and the conversation between the two men toned down considerably. Mac leaned her chin on the side of the cot, putting one hand in to sooth AJ, watching his eyes nod off over and over again. Harriet sat on the opposite side and took in the scene.
"You'll make a wonderful mom someday…" she commented.
Mac sighed, glad yet not so.
With my looks and your brains, he'll be perfect.
And what if she has your looks and my brains?
That could work too.
"Talk to me, Sarah…please. You're scaring me." Harriet reached across to cup her cheek. Mac rested in her hand, but could scarcely find it in herself, as hard as she tried, to be okay. All she could muster was an apology.
"Please just walk away…if you're not going to be happy then…"
"I will be happy, Harriet. I will," Mac replied, "I'm probably just tired, with the flu and the pills and work…its probably all that and PMS or something. I fine. Really."
"You just don't look happy…ever since last night."
"I…its was just a strain…that's all. I'm alright…Mic's a good man, he makes me happy…I love him, I do." Mac could almost feel pain when she said that, but she did love him.
"You'll have no regrets?"
Mac felt almost helpless at that question, and it showed. She could almost feel tears threatening to surface once more. Confusing. Contradiction. She just could not behold herself sometimes. Anger, betrayal, pain, sadness, they would just come and go as quickly, switching back and forth and will and fancy, oblivious and insensitive to her needs and circumstances. The pills helped. Just to numb them and make them disappear, but only so much.
"I guess that's why they call marriage a lifelong commitment, you should know."
"I know that's the case for me and Bud, but for you…it seems almost like a life sentence."
"Surely I don't give you that impression!" Mac exclaimed.
"Okay, so I'm exaggerating," Harriet smiled back, much the other's relief, "I just don't want you to regret it later…not working it out with Harm…"
Mac sighed, "There is no Harm…there's Harm and Renee, and there's me and Mic."
"You all have a choice…"
"And we made it," Mac told her, "…sometimes walking away, its just the right thing to do."
Mac lightly placed her hand on AJ's chest, watching the little one's rise and fall.
You suppose you'll have one of our own someday?
"Yeah…me with Mic, you with Renee," Mac whispered, lost in her own imaginings. Harriet heard her words and deliberated deeply.
Sometimes you find the perfect on and its just doesn't work out. Sometimes you find the not so perfect one and you work it out.
At the end of the day, every woman wants what you want, Mac.
***********
Terrace outside 'The Fifth Avenue'
Rendezvous Hotel
Behind Grand Central Station
Nathan smiled idlely to himself, and then slowly got up, supporting himself on the arms of the bench. Harm rose along with him.
"It was good talking with you, Harmon."
"The pleasure was mine, sir."
The old man began turning back into the building, but Harm picked up the brown envelope from the bench and caught up with him, "You forgot this, sir."
Nathan looked at the other and replied, "Oh no, that's yours."
"Sir?"
Nathan took a step closer and put his hand on Harm's shoulder solemnly, "A piece of advice from an old man if you will. Sometimes…the choices we make, only delay what is inevitable."
Harm gazed back at the other, unclear as how to respond, but finally asked, "I should have let go earlier then."
Nathan didn't reply, but patted his shoulder assuringly before turning back to the door, he didn't look back, only mumbled to himself as he continued on, "The choices we make, only delay what is inevitable."
Harm stared questioningly at the brown envelope in his hands and then watched Nathan leave.
Sometimes walking away is the right thing to do.
***********
Bud and Harriet's Residence
Mic came up to her from behind and snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him and nuzzling at her neck. Mac felt herself respond slightly to his touch, but felt a sickening quell in her chest at the same time and wiggled out of his advances.
"What's the matter, Sarah?" Mic asked, looking slightly hurt.
"We agreed not to…" Mac began.
"But we're not doing anything, what? Now I can't even kiss my fiancée for a little bit?" Mic argued.
Mac felt irritable and frustrated, but did her best to hide it, getting up from her bed and turning around to face him. He moved over to sit down on the edge of the mattress opposite her.
"Of course not, Mic," she quickly bent down and gave him a quick peck on the lips before straightening up again. She hoped that would be enough to satisfy him a little. She was relieved it did. Mac placed one arm across her waist and ran the other in his hair, saying, "I'm just really tired, Mic."
Mic heaved with a little disappointment, but changed his tone to concern, "I'm sorry, you're sick, I should've been more understanding."
"It's not your fault, Mic, I'm just exhausted still."
"You sure that's it, luv…you're not having second thoughts or somethin'…" he checked.
"What gave you that idea?"
"Nothing," Mic replied, "Its just when I couldn't get you last night I worried that you were avoiding me…but when Harriet explained about going to the doctor I understood…just silly worry."
Mac smiled weakly, nodding.
"But you're doing a lot better, yes?" He continued.
"Much…" Mac nodded, pulled him to his feet, "but I am still poofed, so not that I don't want you around, but I'm not going to hold out much longer…"
Mic reluctantly let her pull him towards the door and down the staircase, groaning, "I'll call you tomorrow?"
"You can call me all you want, Brumby, I'm not going anywhere…"
"Alright then, you get lots of rest you hear me? Lot of water…"
"Ye-es…"
"I don't want you overworking and having a breakdown before our big day…"
"Okay…"
"Sarah," he spun round suddenly at the last step, grabbing her by the waist, "You do love me, don't you?"
Mac stared at him intently and then took his face into her hands, bringing him close, "I love you, Mic." And she gave him a gentle lingering kiss.
"Not because I love you?" he asked one more time.
"No," she frowned, "I love you because you're you, okay?"
Mac planted another kiss on his lips, and he reached for another before starting out the door, "Just making sure. Goodnight, luv."
"Goodnight, Mic." Mac replied.
Whatever 's between you and Brumby, that's your business.
Whatever's between us? I'm marrying the guy what do you think is between us?
Do you love me, Sarah?
I love you for you.
***********
Grand Central Station
Platform 5
0035 ZULU
There were few people on the platform at this time, which made the platform seem deathly quiet. All they heard was the light snoring of a homeless man covered in some newspapers to keep warm, and the could of empty drink cans or rubbish being accidentally stumbled upon by passing commuters. None of them even bothered that there was old gentlemen with an expensive tuxedo under his trench coat standing waiting for a train. They may have noticed, but they certainly didn't think it worth the time in consideration. Nathan walked a few brisk steps over to the old man under the newspaper sheets and swiftly stuck a hundred dollar bill in his broken jeans pocket. The other did not stir in the least bit at his action and he quickly returned to where Clayton stood. The younger had raise a brow at his silent deed and Nathan simply replied,
"When you get to my age, you'll truly understand the value of dignity."
Clay glanced back at the homeless fellow and then said nothing. The train pulled up in front of them and they stepped into it once the doors had opened, sitting down together in a practically empty train. Both cross their legs but kept up appearances as nothing more than two strangers in the subway, not making any eye contact whatsoever.
"You gave him the photographs?" Clayton asked.
The other didn't answer.
"You know this could serve more of an attraction than deterrent?"
"They would have to be thrown into the senerio regardless, his participation hinges not on the case, but on the girl."
Clayton conceded the truth of the words and then continued, "So we proceed as planned."
"As planned."
"The recent complication?" Clay enquired.
"You'll receive instructions if there's a need for you to act. For now just remained focused."
Clayton nodded, and then Nathan continued, "I heard a rumour worth being concerned about."
Clay glanced sideways for the first time and then replied, "Its been dealt with."
"Mmm," Nathan approved, "Never look back."
"You needn't worry," Clay assured him.
They remained quiet as the train pulled a stop and the doors opened. There was a young Chinese teenager in street sweats leaning idlely against a pillar. He kept that position for a while then looked at his wristwatch before taking off back up the staircase leading out of the station. Nathan rose and muttered to Clay, "Walking away is always the right thing to do. Always remember that."
"I will," Clay replied before watching the other walk out of the train, following the young punk up the staircase. There would probably be a car parked out front near the station. The teen would probably breeze past the awaiting transport and be on his way, while Nathan would get in and be driven off somewhere unknown to everyone else. Clay wasn't sure when he would ever see Nathan again, possibly never. Theirs was a life best lived in seclusion and bathed in secrecy. A life best served alone.
Walking away is always the right thing to do.
Never look back.
Clayton pondered the workings of the intricate operation as the train doors closed once again. They made a rough clanging sound, as though a stern reminder that he was inside, alone. This was his destiny, and he had learnt to embrace it, but he sincerely prayed he would never be responsible for someone else's confinement to the same. The train began accelerating, continuing on its course down that deep dark tunnel. For a moment he wondered how long it would take to reach the end of the line, he had done so many times before, but never once looked back. He had gone so far out that to return the other way would be as tedious as to continue to the end.
Don't look back, Clay. Never look back.
***********