Part Sixteen
JAG office
Memphis NAS
2035 Local
Mac looked at the assembled group. They had decided it would be unwise to assume that the JAG office was unwatched. What they were hoping was that these people were still focusing on her. Tonight, they would adhere to the pattern they had established over the last two days: working late into the night. The key change would be Mac and Singer being last in the building. Bell and Perez would leave first, followed after forty-five minutes by Harm and Tyler. The four men would rendezvous several blocks from the motorpool at 2200. Mac and Singer would leave for the VOQ at 2330. They would be accompanied by the other small change in the pattern: a MP that Perez assigned to them for the evening. If everything went well, Harm and Perez would already be in Harm's quarters at the VOQ.
Time seemed to drag by and for once, Mac wished her internal clock wouldn't keep her apprised of every miserable second. Finally, Perez and Bell were out the door. She leaned back in her chair and watched Harm talk to Tyler. The young ensign had been growing noticeably more nervous. Harm eventually got him wrapped up in a convoluted and wildly improbable fighter pilot story. Listening with half an ear, she began to wonder if forty-one minutes and twenty-three seconds was enough time for Harm to finish his epic. Suddenly, it was time. Harm tossed her a jaunty smile and a thumbs-up, as he and Tyler headed out the door.
Now it was just Mac and Singer. She looked over at the Lieutenant, "Why don't we go over the motorpool records one more time and see if we can find anything else of interest?" Singer nodded, anything would be better than sitting around staring at the walls and each other. They sat side by side, comparing notes and figures. Mac picked up the fuel consumption record and frowned. She glanced over at Singer, "Have you run across anything that tells us how many miles to the gallon these trucks get?"
Lauren frowned in turn, shuffling through another stack, "Just a minute." She quickly sorted through a different set, "Here. Okay... loaded, they average about twelve miles to the gallon. Unloaded, about fourteen... hmpf, not much better."
Mac ran a finger down a column of figures, "Let's see, every three weeks - fuel consumption jumps about 135 gallons. She started scribbling on a spare piece of paper, "That's 45 gallons a week, assuming they're going to the same location each time." She ran through a few more equations and then looked at Lauren, "Hand me that map, would you? Thanks." Singer watched as she copied the mileage scale onto a piece of paper, "Okay, let's figure 13 miles to the gallon. With 45 gallons, 1 truck would go about 293 miles, one way. I think that's too far." Lauren nodded in agreement. "All right, 2 trucks would go about 146 miles. That seems more reasonable. And 3 trucks would go 98 miles, 4 trucks - 73 miles. I don't think it would be any closer than that." She worked on the mileage scale for a minute or two. "Hang on a sec." Mac went into the bullpen for a minute and came back with a pushpin. Attaching the scale to the pin, she spread the map flat and stuck the pin on Millington, TN. She punched a pencil through the paper at the 145 mile mark and glanced at Singer, "Hold the map still." Carefully, she drew a circle on the map with her makeshift compass, then repeated the process using the 70 mile mark. Pulling the pin out, she looked down at the two circles, "There's our range."
The two women bent over the map, looking for anything that might be a possible location. Suddenly, Lauren said, "Hah, look here ma'am." She put her finger on the map. Mac leaned over and read the name of the town. She looked up at Singer and smiled, "I believe you've found it, Lieutenant. Nice work." She grabbed the fuel consumption log and wrote across the top: 'Bethel, MS, hometown - Mrs. Allan Jarvis.'
At 2325, Mac took one final look around and then locked the conference room door. She and Singer followed the MP, PFC Morris, out to the car. Mac waved the two of them on and paused long enough to lock the front doors as well. Turning, she hurried up the walkway. Morris was on the far side of the car. He was unlocking the driver's side door when he gave a startled yelp and disappeared from view. Mac and Singer stared in shock for a moment, then Mac started to move forward. Singer glanced back, her eyes widened and she yelled, "Colonel!"
Mac spun around, her hands automatically going into a defensive position. A black-clad figure was shoving an object towards her. She threw out her left arm in a reflexive blocking move. The stun gun hit the plastic brace and sizzled. Her assailant froze for a split second in surprise. That fast, the heel of Mac's hand smashed into his face, sending him reeling backwards. She stayed close, hitting him hard in the chest while sweeping his legs out from under him. The maneuver turned him horizontal in the air before gravity took over. He landed heavily on his back. Mac followed him down and grabbed a handful of hair. She lifted up and then slammed down, bouncing his head off the pavement. Scooping up the stun gun, she spun back towards the car, still in a crouch.
She saw Lauren's assailant finally make contact with his stun gun. The Lieutenant's eyes went wide, before rolling up in her head. She slowly slid down the side of the car. Mac launched herself at Singer's attacker. He turned towards her with a roundhouse swing. She ducked underneath, coming up inside his guard and shoving the stun gun into his torso. Triggering it, she had a moment's satisfaction watching him go rigid, before collapsing. Suddenly, she was hit hard from the right. Mac smashed sideways into the ground, the attacker landing on top. There was an audible pop and white-hot pain flashed through her. Frantic, she started scrambling. She couldn't afford to get caught on the ground where their strength and weight gave them a distinct advantage. Her foot came into contact with something soft, she pulled back and kicked as hard as she could. There was a muffled groan and she broke free, staggering to her feet. Her left arm was hanging uselessly at her side. The pain in her shoulder was pounding through her in time with the frantic beat of her heart.
A stinging blow to her back sent her stumbling forward. Mac managed to turn without losing her balance. Lauren's assailant was back up and following her, telescoping baton in hand. She backed away, knowing she wouldn't be able to elude him. Black spots were dancing in front of her eyes, obstructing her view. She shook her head, attempting to clear her vision. Then an arm snaked around her neck from behind, yanking her painfully upright and cutting off her air. Abruptly, her side felt like it was on fire. She thought she heard someone angrily yell no as she sank into darkness.
Motorpool
2225 Local
Harm and Perez flattened themselves against the side of the maintenance garage. They could hear voices and engines rumbling. Harm gestured towards a window a little ways down, Perez nodded. Carefully, they crept down to the window and took up positions on either side. Harm eased upright, looking into the garage. Ducking back down, he moved over to Perez and whispered, "Two enlisted, but I can't see much more. We need to get inside." Perez nodded and gestured with his head towards the back of the building. Cautiously, they began to move. Five minutes later, they were crouched beside a narrow door. Perez reached up and gently tried the handle. He looked over at Harm and mouthed 'locked'. Smiling at the frustrated look on the Commander's face, he reached in the back pocket of his black fatigues and pulled out a small leather case.
The sudden rattling of the doorknob was all the warning they had. Going in opposite directions, they threw themselves down and tried to blend into the shadows. A man stood silhouetted by the doorway, before letting the door bang shut behind him. The brief flare of a match and then the glowing coal of a cigarette told them why he had come out of the building. Five long minutes later, he stubbed out the cigarette and went back inside. Perez was at the door moments later. He tried the knob and then grinned at Harm. The man had forgotten to re-lock it. He started to open it when Harm put a hand on his arm. Speaking softly, Harm said, "Let me check in with the Dynamic Duo." He pulled out a small hand-held and spoke quietly for a few moments. Turning back, he smiled at Perez and gestured towards the door, "After you."
Perez eased the door open and quickly scanned the area. Seeing it was clear, he and Harm slipped inside. The maintenance garage was a very large building. Towards the back, were rows and rows of shelves containing truck and auto parts, as well as neat stacks of tires. All the bays were occupied, most by vehicles in various stages of repair. The last three bays, however, held three large trucks - their engines idling. Harm and Perez exchanged glances, there was going to be a run tonight. Perez pulled out a small digital camcorder out of a side pocket. Harm touched his arm and then pointed up. The captain looked up at the shelving behind them and then back to Rabb. Harm made a 'follow me' gesture and stealthily began working his way back to the shelves. Perez shrugged, put the camcorder back in his pocket and followed.
Fifteen minutes later, they were snugged down on one of the higher shelves, with a bird's eye view of all three trucks. There had been a few tricky moments for the shorter Perez, but Harm had been there with his long reach to help out. Perez pulled out the camcorder and began recording. Harm got out his hand-held and updated Bell and Tyler on their current situation. Forty-five minutes later, Harm tapped Perez on the shoulder and pointed to his watch. They would need to leave soon. It had been a good night's work. Chief Wilkins had been by twice and Bell's staff sergeant seemed to be in charge of the convoy. There were eight other enlisted men working around the area, checking tires and making sure loads were secure. Harm had written down the serial numbers stenciled on the trucks and quietly relayed that information to Bell.
They started to pull back when their attention was caught by a car pulling into the building. Perez heard Harm's quick intake of breath as three black-clad men got out. They leaned forward to listen. By some trick of acoustics, it was easy to hear normal conversations in spite of the distance. Perez pulled his camcorder back out and zoomed in for a better look. Two of the three were looking a little worse for wear. Perez felt his stomach drop when a fourth man got out and hauled a bound and gagged Lt. Singer out behind him. Beside him, Harm had gone rigid with shock. They heard the staff sergeant laugh.
"What the hell happened to you? Did this little lady give you a hard time?" Several of the enlisted men who had drifted over, started sniggering. They laughed out loud when Singer wrenched her arm from the grasp of one of the men to stand on her own. She managed to look terrified and defiant at the same time.
"Not her," said one of the black-clad men. "It was the other bitch... goddamn Marines." The other two walked back to the car and opened the trunk. They pulled a limp figure out and dragged it forward before dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. It was Sarah MacKenzie.
"Goddammit!" another voice bellowed. Chief Wilkins stalked forward and glared at the men. "You were told to take her alive!"
"She is," one said defensively. He shoved a toe under her shoulder and rolled her over on her back, causing a ragged moan. "See?"
Chief Wilkins stared down at her and then looked back at the men, "Which one of you idiots stabbed her?"
One of the men cautiously raised his hand. Wilkins stomped over to stand in front of him. "She broke my nose!" the man said nervously. A moment later, he was flat on his back with the Chief standing over him. "If she dies before she gets to where she's supposed to go, I will kill you." He looked up at the rest of the men, "Get them on a truck, we're running late." He turned and walked away.
Up on the shelves, a desperate struggle was going on. Perez was doing everything he could to keep the Commander in one place. The two men strained against each other in dead silence. They were evenly matched. Although Rabb was larger, Perez was more heavily muscled. He needed all of it as he struggled to contain the older man. He didn't know what Harm was planning to do and he'd have bet money the tall commander didn't know either beyond his need to get to the Colonel. Finally, he managed to get his mouth close to Rabb's ear. He hissed frantically, "Stand down, Rabb! Goddammit, Stand down! We're wasting time!" Underneath him, Harm suddenly collapsed, breathing hard. Perez dove into a pocket for his hand-held, "Bell! Tyler!" he whispered urgently, "Follow the trucks when they leave! You hear me? Don't lose them, they've got the Colonel and Lt. Singer on board!" He heard a startled 'Yes Sir!' before shoving the small radio back in his pocket. He looked down at Harm, "Commander?"
Harm was staring down at the floor of the building. "Those bastards put them in crates! ...They shoved her into a crate like some side of beef and nailed it shut... How the hell do they expect her to breathe?" he said in a hoarse whisper. A cold rage seemed to settle over him. He turned and swiftly began climbing down, Perez hurrying to catch up. They made it across the building to the backdoor in record time. Once outside the building, Harm spun and pinned Perez with a glare, "What gate would they go out?"
The captain went over the layout of the base in his mind, he looked at Rabb, "Gate Four, it's close and opens out into a warehouse district. There'll be hardly any traffic at this time of night." He pointed off to the east, "It's that way, about a mile."
Harm took off at a jog in the indicated direction, Perez hustled up alongside him. Harm looked over at the Captain, "Is there any place we can get close to the trucks without being seen?"
Perez thought about it for a few minutes while they continued to run. Finally, he swerved off to the right, "Yeah, I know just the place."
JAG office
Memphis NAS
2035 Local
Mac looked at the assembled group. They had decided it would be unwise to assume that the JAG office was unwatched. What they were hoping was that these people were still focusing on her. Tonight, they would adhere to the pattern they had established over the last two days: working late into the night. The key change would be Mac and Singer being last in the building. Bell and Perez would leave first, followed after forty-five minutes by Harm and Tyler. The four men would rendezvous several blocks from the motorpool at 2200. Mac and Singer would leave for the VOQ at 2330. They would be accompanied by the other small change in the pattern: a MP that Perez assigned to them for the evening. If everything went well, Harm and Perez would already be in Harm's quarters at the VOQ.
Time seemed to drag by and for once, Mac wished her internal clock wouldn't keep her apprised of every miserable second. Finally, Perez and Bell were out the door. She leaned back in her chair and watched Harm talk to Tyler. The young ensign had been growing noticeably more nervous. Harm eventually got him wrapped up in a convoluted and wildly improbable fighter pilot story. Listening with half an ear, she began to wonder if forty-one minutes and twenty-three seconds was enough time for Harm to finish his epic. Suddenly, it was time. Harm tossed her a jaunty smile and a thumbs-up, as he and Tyler headed out the door.
Now it was just Mac and Singer. She looked over at the Lieutenant, "Why don't we go over the motorpool records one more time and see if we can find anything else of interest?" Singer nodded, anything would be better than sitting around staring at the walls and each other. They sat side by side, comparing notes and figures. Mac picked up the fuel consumption record and frowned. She glanced over at Singer, "Have you run across anything that tells us how many miles to the gallon these trucks get?"
Lauren frowned in turn, shuffling through another stack, "Just a minute." She quickly sorted through a different set, "Here. Okay... loaded, they average about twelve miles to the gallon. Unloaded, about fourteen... hmpf, not much better."
Mac ran a finger down a column of figures, "Let's see, every three weeks - fuel consumption jumps about 135 gallons. She started scribbling on a spare piece of paper, "That's 45 gallons a week, assuming they're going to the same location each time." She ran through a few more equations and then looked at Lauren, "Hand me that map, would you? Thanks." Singer watched as she copied the mileage scale onto a piece of paper, "Okay, let's figure 13 miles to the gallon. With 45 gallons, 1 truck would go about 293 miles, one way. I think that's too far." Lauren nodded in agreement. "All right, 2 trucks would go about 146 miles. That seems more reasonable. And 3 trucks would go 98 miles, 4 trucks - 73 miles. I don't think it would be any closer than that." She worked on the mileage scale for a minute or two. "Hang on a sec." Mac went into the bullpen for a minute and came back with a pushpin. Attaching the scale to the pin, she spread the map flat and stuck the pin on Millington, TN. She punched a pencil through the paper at the 145 mile mark and glanced at Singer, "Hold the map still." Carefully, she drew a circle on the map with her makeshift compass, then repeated the process using the 70 mile mark. Pulling the pin out, she looked down at the two circles, "There's our range."
The two women bent over the map, looking for anything that might be a possible location. Suddenly, Lauren said, "Hah, look here ma'am." She put her finger on the map. Mac leaned over and read the name of the town. She looked up at Singer and smiled, "I believe you've found it, Lieutenant. Nice work." She grabbed the fuel consumption log and wrote across the top: 'Bethel, MS, hometown - Mrs. Allan Jarvis.'
At 2325, Mac took one final look around and then locked the conference room door. She and Singer followed the MP, PFC Morris, out to the car. Mac waved the two of them on and paused long enough to lock the front doors as well. Turning, she hurried up the walkway. Morris was on the far side of the car. He was unlocking the driver's side door when he gave a startled yelp and disappeared from view. Mac and Singer stared in shock for a moment, then Mac started to move forward. Singer glanced back, her eyes widened and she yelled, "Colonel!"
Mac spun around, her hands automatically going into a defensive position. A black-clad figure was shoving an object towards her. She threw out her left arm in a reflexive blocking move. The stun gun hit the plastic brace and sizzled. Her assailant froze for a split second in surprise. That fast, the heel of Mac's hand smashed into his face, sending him reeling backwards. She stayed close, hitting him hard in the chest while sweeping his legs out from under him. The maneuver turned him horizontal in the air before gravity took over. He landed heavily on his back. Mac followed him down and grabbed a handful of hair. She lifted up and then slammed down, bouncing his head off the pavement. Scooping up the stun gun, she spun back towards the car, still in a crouch.
She saw Lauren's assailant finally make contact with his stun gun. The Lieutenant's eyes went wide, before rolling up in her head. She slowly slid down the side of the car. Mac launched herself at Singer's attacker. He turned towards her with a roundhouse swing. She ducked underneath, coming up inside his guard and shoving the stun gun into his torso. Triggering it, she had a moment's satisfaction watching him go rigid, before collapsing. Suddenly, she was hit hard from the right. Mac smashed sideways into the ground, the attacker landing on top. There was an audible pop and white-hot pain flashed through her. Frantic, she started scrambling. She couldn't afford to get caught on the ground where their strength and weight gave them a distinct advantage. Her foot came into contact with something soft, she pulled back and kicked as hard as she could. There was a muffled groan and she broke free, staggering to her feet. Her left arm was hanging uselessly at her side. The pain in her shoulder was pounding through her in time with the frantic beat of her heart.
A stinging blow to her back sent her stumbling forward. Mac managed to turn without losing her balance. Lauren's assailant was back up and following her, telescoping baton in hand. She backed away, knowing she wouldn't be able to elude him. Black spots were dancing in front of her eyes, obstructing her view. She shook her head, attempting to clear her vision. Then an arm snaked around her neck from behind, yanking her painfully upright and cutting off her air. Abruptly, her side felt like it was on fire. She thought she heard someone angrily yell no as she sank into darkness.
Motorpool
2225 Local
Harm and Perez flattened themselves against the side of the maintenance garage. They could hear voices and engines rumbling. Harm gestured towards a window a little ways down, Perez nodded. Carefully, they crept down to the window and took up positions on either side. Harm eased upright, looking into the garage. Ducking back down, he moved over to Perez and whispered, "Two enlisted, but I can't see much more. We need to get inside." Perez nodded and gestured with his head towards the back of the building. Cautiously, they began to move. Five minutes later, they were crouched beside a narrow door. Perez reached up and gently tried the handle. He looked over at Harm and mouthed 'locked'. Smiling at the frustrated look on the Commander's face, he reached in the back pocket of his black fatigues and pulled out a small leather case.
The sudden rattling of the doorknob was all the warning they had. Going in opposite directions, they threw themselves down and tried to blend into the shadows. A man stood silhouetted by the doorway, before letting the door bang shut behind him. The brief flare of a match and then the glowing coal of a cigarette told them why he had come out of the building. Five long minutes later, he stubbed out the cigarette and went back inside. Perez was at the door moments later. He tried the knob and then grinned at Harm. The man had forgotten to re-lock it. He started to open it when Harm put a hand on his arm. Speaking softly, Harm said, "Let me check in with the Dynamic Duo." He pulled out a small hand-held and spoke quietly for a few moments. Turning back, he smiled at Perez and gestured towards the door, "After you."
Perez eased the door open and quickly scanned the area. Seeing it was clear, he and Harm slipped inside. The maintenance garage was a very large building. Towards the back, were rows and rows of shelves containing truck and auto parts, as well as neat stacks of tires. All the bays were occupied, most by vehicles in various stages of repair. The last three bays, however, held three large trucks - their engines idling. Harm and Perez exchanged glances, there was going to be a run tonight. Perez pulled out a small digital camcorder out of a side pocket. Harm touched his arm and then pointed up. The captain looked up at the shelving behind them and then back to Rabb. Harm made a 'follow me' gesture and stealthily began working his way back to the shelves. Perez shrugged, put the camcorder back in his pocket and followed.
Fifteen minutes later, they were snugged down on one of the higher shelves, with a bird's eye view of all three trucks. There had been a few tricky moments for the shorter Perez, but Harm had been there with his long reach to help out. Perez pulled out the camcorder and began recording. Harm got out his hand-held and updated Bell and Tyler on their current situation. Forty-five minutes later, Harm tapped Perez on the shoulder and pointed to his watch. They would need to leave soon. It had been a good night's work. Chief Wilkins had been by twice and Bell's staff sergeant seemed to be in charge of the convoy. There were eight other enlisted men working around the area, checking tires and making sure loads were secure. Harm had written down the serial numbers stenciled on the trucks and quietly relayed that information to Bell.
They started to pull back when their attention was caught by a car pulling into the building. Perez heard Harm's quick intake of breath as three black-clad men got out. They leaned forward to listen. By some trick of acoustics, it was easy to hear normal conversations in spite of the distance. Perez pulled his camcorder back out and zoomed in for a better look. Two of the three were looking a little worse for wear. Perez felt his stomach drop when a fourth man got out and hauled a bound and gagged Lt. Singer out behind him. Beside him, Harm had gone rigid with shock. They heard the staff sergeant laugh.
"What the hell happened to you? Did this little lady give you a hard time?" Several of the enlisted men who had drifted over, started sniggering. They laughed out loud when Singer wrenched her arm from the grasp of one of the men to stand on her own. She managed to look terrified and defiant at the same time.
"Not her," said one of the black-clad men. "It was the other bitch... goddamn Marines." The other two walked back to the car and opened the trunk. They pulled a limp figure out and dragged it forward before dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. It was Sarah MacKenzie.
"Goddammit!" another voice bellowed. Chief Wilkins stalked forward and glared at the men. "You were told to take her alive!"
"She is," one said defensively. He shoved a toe under her shoulder and rolled her over on her back, causing a ragged moan. "See?"
Chief Wilkins stared down at her and then looked back at the men, "Which one of you idiots stabbed her?"
One of the men cautiously raised his hand. Wilkins stomped over to stand in front of him. "She broke my nose!" the man said nervously. A moment later, he was flat on his back with the Chief standing over him. "If she dies before she gets to where she's supposed to go, I will kill you." He looked up at the rest of the men, "Get them on a truck, we're running late." He turned and walked away.
Up on the shelves, a desperate struggle was going on. Perez was doing everything he could to keep the Commander in one place. The two men strained against each other in dead silence. They were evenly matched. Although Rabb was larger, Perez was more heavily muscled. He needed all of it as he struggled to contain the older man. He didn't know what Harm was planning to do and he'd have bet money the tall commander didn't know either beyond his need to get to the Colonel. Finally, he managed to get his mouth close to Rabb's ear. He hissed frantically, "Stand down, Rabb! Goddammit, Stand down! We're wasting time!" Underneath him, Harm suddenly collapsed, breathing hard. Perez dove into a pocket for his hand-held, "Bell! Tyler!" he whispered urgently, "Follow the trucks when they leave! You hear me? Don't lose them, they've got the Colonel and Lt. Singer on board!" He heard a startled 'Yes Sir!' before shoving the small radio back in his pocket. He looked down at Harm, "Commander?"
Harm was staring down at the floor of the building. "Those bastards put them in crates! ...They shoved her into a crate like some side of beef and nailed it shut... How the hell do they expect her to breathe?" he said in a hoarse whisper. A cold rage seemed to settle over him. He turned and swiftly began climbing down, Perez hurrying to catch up. They made it across the building to the backdoor in record time. Once outside the building, Harm spun and pinned Perez with a glare, "What gate would they go out?"
The captain went over the layout of the base in his mind, he looked at Rabb, "Gate Four, it's close and opens out into a warehouse district. There'll be hardly any traffic at this time of night." He pointed off to the east, "It's that way, about a mile."
Harm took off at a jog in the indicated direction, Perez hustled up alongside him. Harm looked over at the Captain, "Is there any place we can get close to the trucks without being seen?"
Perez thought about it for a few minutes while they continued to run. Finally, he swerved off to the right, "Yeah, I know just the place."
