Part Twenty-Four

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1630 Local

Harm sat against the wall, knees drawn up and his head resting on his arms; looking, he hoped, like the picture of dejection. It wasn't too far off, he was feeling a little depressed. He'd been moved to another, smaller room, also devoid of furniture except for one chair. It was currently occupied by one of Trask's gorillas. At least they had finally untied his hands. He worried about Singer, they'd been separated after that disturbing yet bravura performance. It had been a brilliant move and she had played it beautifully. Harm shifted a little, uncomfortably. The Lieutenant had pegged his probable behavior if Mac had died pretty damn accurately. The jolt he had felt at hearing the words had lent credence to both their performances. He hoped to hell Perez had gotten Mac out.

At the moment, all he could do was wait. Koslov was going to kill him, the man couldn't afford to let him live. He'd probably kill the Lieutenant too. Harm sighed, it was a helluva thing to hope for; but the alternatives for Lauren were worse. Koslov could just toss her to the militia. Slowly, he raised his head and surveyed the room. Goddammit, there had to be a way out of this. Trask's man watched him dispassionately. Trask. It was pretty evident the two men didn't like each other. He remembered how the two guards had silently checked with the Reverend before obeying Koslov - maybe the militia didn't like Koslov either. Harm thought the Rev. Trask also had a few bolts loose, but perhaps his obsession with conspiracies could be used somehow. Provided he got the chance to talk to the man again. The door opened just then, causing the gorilla to come to his feet. When Lt. Singer and Koslov walked in, Harm did his best to look sullen and not surprised.

Koslov looked down at him and smiled, "Well, Commander, Lauren and I have been having a most interesting chat. She's been telling me all about what you and the late Colonel MacKenzie have uncovered about my little computer operation." He casually glanced at Singer as he spoke.

Harm stared at Koslov and then looked over at the Lieutenant. She seemed tense although her face was completely expressionless. On the other hand, there was definitely something a little off about Koslov. There seemed to be a slight air of... curiosity? anticipation? Hoping he wasn't interpreting everything wrong, Harm gave a short, bitter laugh, "Well, I hope it was interesting because it certainly wasn't true. Neither the Colonel nor myself thought Lt. Singer had the need-to-know about that part of the case." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lauren almost imperceptibly relax. He gazed at the Captain, "I have a question, if you don't mind."

Koslov waved a hand. The Naval Commander was a dead man, the least he could do would be to answer a question or two.

"Are you part of 'Archangel'?"

Koslov smiled again, "I like to think of myself as more of a graduate. Charlie Jacobs created this brilliant set-up and then wasted it. All I had to do was recruit a few more like-minded people and make a few adjustments."

Harm glared at Singer, "Is that what's going on now Lieutenant? You still looking out for Number One?"

Lauren shrugged, "I prefer to be on the winning side." She smiled, "My miraculous escape - made possible by your gallant sacrifice, by the way - will be quite a boost to my career at JAG. With MacKenzie out of the way, it should be easier to get closer to the Admiral."

"You're a goddamn disgrace!" Harm spat out.

"But I'll be a live one," Singer returned calmly. She looked over at Koslov who had been watching the exchange with amusement. "Aren't we done here?"

"Yes, I believe so." Koslov gestured for her to precede him. "If you'll excuse us, Commander?"

Harm watched sourly as they left. He looked at the guard still standing against the wall, "I hope your boss knows what he's doing. That guy isn't who he says he is." He dropped his head back down with a certain amount of satisfaction at the look of alarm that had flashed across the man's face. Maybe he'd see the good Reverend after all.

JAG Office
Memphis NAS
1710 Local

AJ stared at the FBI agent, "What do you mean, you can't do anything?"

Special Agent Ramos sighed, "I wish we could. Hell, you're a lawyer, you can see for yourself. We have no legal reason to raid that militia camp."

"Receiving stolen government property isn't enough reason for you?"

"We don't know that. According to the official records, nothing is missing. We can't even prove that anything was transported from here. All trucks in the motorpool were accounted for last night. The base MPs confirmed that." The agent looked over at the lieutenant standing near the door. "Correct?"

Lt. Grafton nodded, "The vehicles were all there and none of the gate logs show any trucks leaving the base after 1930 yesterday. Gate 6 did show Cpl. Bell and Ensign Tyler leaving a little before 0100 this morning."

"Then the gate logs have been falsified. Tyler and Bell followed those trucks from here to that militia camp. That should be enough!" Chegwidden was getting extremely exasperated.

Ramos shook his head, "They didn't see the trucks actually leaving the base. Capt. Perez told them to go to Gate Four but there's no way to prove that the trucks they were following were from this base. That's the warehouse district, those vehicles could have come from anywhere and been carrying perfectly legitimate cargo. Unless we can get some eyewitness accounts from Capt. Perez or your JAG officers, we just don't have a case."

"Which you won't get because my people and Capt. Perez are on the run from that militia!" AJ's voice was steadily growing in volume.

The agent winced, "So you believe. No one has actually seen or talked to any of them since they disappeared from this base. We have no basis for a warrant." The agent threw up his hands in frustration, "Honest to God, Admiral, if it were up to me, I'd be going through there like the wrath of God. But with all the criticism from the media about everything from Waco to why we didn't stop 9/11, my superiors are not going to seen harassing loyal American citizens without a hell of a lot more proof." He gestured to the files on the conference table, "I can take all this and start our own investigation. Maybe we can pull enough pieces together to pursue this."

"And in the meantime, my officers are on their own," AJ said in disgust. "Goddammit!" He paced angrily back and forth alongside the table before stopping and looking at Gunny Walters, "Gunny, how would you feel about going fishing?" Walters gave him a grim smile and nodded.

"Admiral?" SA Ramos asked cautiously, he wasn't sure he liked this abrupt change.

AJ gestured at the map they'd found with the circles drawn on it. "Holly Springs National Forest is known for its sport fishing. I think the Gunny and I deserve a little vacation."

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1655 Local

Tink sat on his bunk and watched the rest of the men in the barracks. The mood was rapidly becoming more festive as the level of beer in the ice-filled tub decreased. He sat nursing his single beer and wondered when the brawl would begin. Someone would start something, he was pretty sure. These guys probably enjoyed beating the hell out of each other. Maybe the officer who provided the beer thought it was the best way to have them blow off steam. Tink scowled slightly, he had a hard time thinking of any of these yahoos as an officer. For him, officers were Perez and Rabb and MacKenzie, and even Tyler, young as he was. That brought him to his next problem, how the hell was he going to get the JAG officers out? Maybe he could coordinate something with Tyler.

Liston nudged his friend and pointed at the new guy they were supposed to train, "No more beer for Tinker, he looks like a mean drunk. He'd wreck this place."

Thomason grinned while taking another pull of his beer, "He looks mean all the time." He looked at Liston, "You don't want him to have any more beer, then you tell him. I'll just sit back here and watch."

Before Liston could retort, their attention was drawn to the barracks entry. Lt. Humphrey was trying to get everyone to listen to him. A pale, skinny, weasel-faced man - his name had been the source of a constant stream of wit. Hardly any of the rank and file liked the Lieutenant and the feeling was mutual. At first, everyone ignored his attempts just to watch him get steamed, but eventually curiosity got the better of them and they began to quiet down. Tink watched the byplay contemptuously. Given half a chance, he'd straighten out this undisciplined rabble, even if he had to kill one or two.

Humphrey cleared his throat importantly, "As you know, we managed to recapture one of the prisoners and the man that freed her this afternoon." He flushed when someone yelled, "We do know. We were there." Scowling, he waited for the laughter to subside, "Well, I just want to let you know there'll be no search this evening." He waited expectantly for the inevitable question. The noise level waxed and waned as the men murmured to one another and then looked back at him. Finally, Liston called, "Oh hell Hump, just tell us the rest. The beer's getting warm."

Looking displeased, Humphrey said, "The other escapee is dead. We'll be sending someone out in the morning to recover the body, providing they can find it."

Tink sat silently, feeling shocked. What the hell had happened? Now he was going to have to tell Pick. 'Damn, Damn, Damn!'

Vicinity of Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1735 Local

The rifle flicked back to Perez as he started to take an angry stride towards the militia man. "Captain!" Mac hissed urgently, "Stand down!" She struggled to her knees and stayed there, swaying unsteadily while she waited for the landscape to settle down.

The militia man grinned, "That's better." He looked at Perez, "You, get down on your knees too, and lace your fingers behind your head." He waited until the captain had complied and then walked up the hill. He stopped just in front of the two. "This is kind of an interesting problem." He gestured at Mac, "Word is, you're supposed to be dead." He looked at Perez, "And you don't even exist. So I really don't have to turn either of you in... alive anyway." He let his gaze wander over to Mac, "Interested in a little fun?" He winked at her, "Not that it matters."

"You.. " Perez began angrily. The militia man spun, swinging his rifle and catching Perez on the side of his head. The captain dropped like a stone. The man looked back and grinned at Mac, "You know... three was a crowd." He slung his rifle over his shoulder and pulled out a large hunting knife. Making a show of testing its edge, he gestured towards the distant camp. "We wouldn't want to attract too much attention, would we?" Mac stared at him, 'Not again... '. Then the man reached over and grabbed a fistful of Perez's shirt and pulled him partially upright. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the knifehand draw back and she realized what he was about to do.

Mac reacted without thinking, launching herself at the militia man. She crashed into his legs, taking him down practically on top of a groggy Perez. Grabbing the hand with the knife, Mac doggedly hung on as everything began to blur and spin alarmingly. Soon all three were entangled in a desperate struggle across the forest floor.

Gradually, Mac became aware she was on her back, the blood was roaring in her ears blocking out other sounds and she couldn't see. Suddenly frantic, she realized a hand was touching the side of her face. 'Not again!' Her good hand shot upward, making contact with the body above her and then latching on with a deathgrip. She felt two hands wrap around her wrist, trying to loosen her hold. The voices were faint at first and then grew louder and more insistent.

"Colonel! Stop it! Let go!" The grayness that seemed to be obscuring her eyesight lessened. Mac was astonished to see a blurry and red-faced Ensign Tyler. She had her hand on his throat. Perez swam into view, it was one of his hands on her wrist. She let go and closed her eyes.