See author's notes in part 1
Disclaimer: All recognized characters are the property of DPB et al, and are simply being borrowed for fun. All others, unless otherwise stated, are the product and property of my own little twisted mind.
********************
1345 local
JAG HQ
Harm nearly ran down Tiner in his haste to reach his office. Once again, he'd lost track of time, and was praying that the VSIB investigator was running later than he was.
No such luck. "Commander!" Tiner exclaimed, trying to keep a hold of the stack of files in his hands, "Sir, there's a lady in your office. She's here about the Nichols case."
"Thank you, Tiner," he gasped out, before he strode toward his office, pausing briefly to compose himself before entering.
"I'm sorry for the delay, ma'am. I'm Commander Rabb," he said to the back of the woman's head. He opened his mouth to continue as she turned in her chair, but suddenly found himself speechless as she fixed a pair of eerily familiar azure eyes on him and gave a wry grin.
"Hey...long time, no see, hotshot," she said, grinning.
"Mercedes?" Harm gasped.
"The one and only," She replied. "What's up, cousin?"
"Wha...what are you doing here?"
"I'm your VSIB investigator." She eyed him over the top of her glasses. "Ummm, no offense, but you look like you're listing a bit to starboard there, sailor. Might I recommend sitting down before you fall down?"
Numbly, Harm took a seat behind his desk. "God...how long has it been, C.D.?" he asked, using her childhood nickname.
"Since we last talked? Little under 15 years. Longer since we've actually seen each other in person. You were just shipping out for your first stint on a carrier."
"And you were gearing up for your fourth full season of racing..."
She smiled, but there were shadows in her eyes. "Yeah... both of us following in our fathers' footsteps," she said quietly. "I suppose the next question is, what the hell happened to us?"
Harm sighed. "You want to go first, or should I?"
She shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me."
Silence fell, neither one willing to relive their past pain. Finally, Harm turned to stare out the window as he spoke. "It was a night landing on the Seahawk in '91. One minute everything was fine, and the next...." he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I came in too low, and hit the ramp. I tried to eject us, but it was too late. Mace...my Rio... was killed."
He turned back to face her, but didn't meet her eyes. "They diagnosed me with night blindness, and that was it. No more Tomcats. Turned out later that wasn't exactly the case, but that's another story. At any rate, I decided I wasn't ready to give up on the Navy yet, so I went to law school and ended up here."
He finally looked up, only to see her looking away, her face unnaturally pale. "C.D.?" he asked quietly. "What happened to make you stop racing?"
It was a moment before she spoke. "It's kind of eerie, really...." she said quietly. "The similarities, you know."
"I was one of the rising stars in European sportscar racing, well on my way to the top..... Then came the Nurburgring in '88. Even though the weather was shit--cold, rainy, even some fog-- everything was going great. Me and Pedro, my teammate, were running one and two, him leading.
It was at the start of the last hour... Pedro, he was just approaching pit out... the mist from the cars, the rain...you couldn't see a damn thing. And he didn't. Specifically, he didn't see the rookie driver re-entering the track. Pedro wasn't that experienced himself. Hell, I wasn't that experienced." Her eyes grew distant as she continued. "It was just matter of physics and timing, I suppose. The rookie, Anders, accelerated too hard on cold tires and spun, collecting Pedro in the process. Since everything was wet, the asphalt didn't even slow them down. And I couldn't react in time once I saw what was happening. I was running full out, too close behind... had to be going close to 200 when I plowed straight into them," she finished, her voice empty and dead-sounding.
Harm stared at her. How come he'd never heard about this? Had he been that out of touch? "What happened, CD?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She continued in the same flat voice, still staring off into the distance. "I hit Anders's car precisely at the cockpit. He was killed instantly. The three cars were tangled together, and still moving at high speed. The crash report said we were going about 170 miles an hour when we hit the wall. Pedro... took the brunt of the impact. He was in a coma for three days before he died." She closed her eyes. "As for me, I was supposedly lucky to be alive. It took two years of physical therapy and recovery before I was completely back on my feet, literally and figuratively. But my racing career was over. So I came back to the US, went back to school, studied criminology, forensic anthropology, and archeology. Finished that, then went to work with a crime scene unit in Fort Worth. Got sick of it about 2 years ago, and went job hunting. Ten months later, it was hello Virginia," she finished, looking back at him.
"Mercedes....I don't know what to say."
She smiled, a genuine smile this time, so much like his own. "Well, you could say you're glad to see me, and want to help me nail the bastard who butchered Suzanne Nichols, Claire Tabram, and Annabella Chapman. We'll deal with the rest later."
Harm returned the grin. "You always were blunt as hell."
"And you were always certain that smile could get you anything you wanted. Some things never change, do they?" she shot back, crossing her arms and grinning.
Harm laughed, really laughed, for the first time in months. "All right, you win. I am damn glad to see you again, CD."
"Likewise, cousin o' mine. Now let's get down to business."
TBC.............
Disclaimer: All recognized characters are the property of DPB et al, and are simply being borrowed for fun. All others, unless otherwise stated, are the product and property of my own little twisted mind.
********************
1345 local
JAG HQ
Harm nearly ran down Tiner in his haste to reach his office. Once again, he'd lost track of time, and was praying that the VSIB investigator was running later than he was.
No such luck. "Commander!" Tiner exclaimed, trying to keep a hold of the stack of files in his hands, "Sir, there's a lady in your office. She's here about the Nichols case."
"Thank you, Tiner," he gasped out, before he strode toward his office, pausing briefly to compose himself before entering.
"I'm sorry for the delay, ma'am. I'm Commander Rabb," he said to the back of the woman's head. He opened his mouth to continue as she turned in her chair, but suddenly found himself speechless as she fixed a pair of eerily familiar azure eyes on him and gave a wry grin.
"Hey...long time, no see, hotshot," she said, grinning.
"Mercedes?" Harm gasped.
"The one and only," She replied. "What's up, cousin?"
"Wha...what are you doing here?"
"I'm your VSIB investigator." She eyed him over the top of her glasses. "Ummm, no offense, but you look like you're listing a bit to starboard there, sailor. Might I recommend sitting down before you fall down?"
Numbly, Harm took a seat behind his desk. "God...how long has it been, C.D.?" he asked, using her childhood nickname.
"Since we last talked? Little under 15 years. Longer since we've actually seen each other in person. You were just shipping out for your first stint on a carrier."
"And you were gearing up for your fourth full season of racing..."
She smiled, but there were shadows in her eyes. "Yeah... both of us following in our fathers' footsteps," she said quietly. "I suppose the next question is, what the hell happened to us?"
Harm sighed. "You want to go first, or should I?"
She shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me."
Silence fell, neither one willing to relive their past pain. Finally, Harm turned to stare out the window as he spoke. "It was a night landing on the Seahawk in '91. One minute everything was fine, and the next...." he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I came in too low, and hit the ramp. I tried to eject us, but it was too late. Mace...my Rio... was killed."
He turned back to face her, but didn't meet her eyes. "They diagnosed me with night blindness, and that was it. No more Tomcats. Turned out later that wasn't exactly the case, but that's another story. At any rate, I decided I wasn't ready to give up on the Navy yet, so I went to law school and ended up here."
He finally looked up, only to see her looking away, her face unnaturally pale. "C.D.?" he asked quietly. "What happened to make you stop racing?"
It was a moment before she spoke. "It's kind of eerie, really...." she said quietly. "The similarities, you know."
"I was one of the rising stars in European sportscar racing, well on my way to the top..... Then came the Nurburgring in '88. Even though the weather was shit--cold, rainy, even some fog-- everything was going great. Me and Pedro, my teammate, were running one and two, him leading.
It was at the start of the last hour... Pedro, he was just approaching pit out... the mist from the cars, the rain...you couldn't see a damn thing. And he didn't. Specifically, he didn't see the rookie driver re-entering the track. Pedro wasn't that experienced himself. Hell, I wasn't that experienced." Her eyes grew distant as she continued. "It was just matter of physics and timing, I suppose. The rookie, Anders, accelerated too hard on cold tires and spun, collecting Pedro in the process. Since everything was wet, the asphalt didn't even slow them down. And I couldn't react in time once I saw what was happening. I was running full out, too close behind... had to be going close to 200 when I plowed straight into them," she finished, her voice empty and dead-sounding.
Harm stared at her. How come he'd never heard about this? Had he been that out of touch? "What happened, CD?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She continued in the same flat voice, still staring off into the distance. "I hit Anders's car precisely at the cockpit. He was killed instantly. The three cars were tangled together, and still moving at high speed. The crash report said we were going about 170 miles an hour when we hit the wall. Pedro... took the brunt of the impact. He was in a coma for three days before he died." She closed her eyes. "As for me, I was supposedly lucky to be alive. It took two years of physical therapy and recovery before I was completely back on my feet, literally and figuratively. But my racing career was over. So I came back to the US, went back to school, studied criminology, forensic anthropology, and archeology. Finished that, then went to work with a crime scene unit in Fort Worth. Got sick of it about 2 years ago, and went job hunting. Ten months later, it was hello Virginia," she finished, looking back at him.
"Mercedes....I don't know what to say."
She smiled, a genuine smile this time, so much like his own. "Well, you could say you're glad to see me, and want to help me nail the bastard who butchered Suzanne Nichols, Claire Tabram, and Annabella Chapman. We'll deal with the rest later."
Harm returned the grin. "You always were blunt as hell."
"And you were always certain that smile could get you anything you wanted. Some things never change, do they?" she shot back, crossing her arms and grinning.
Harm laughed, really laughed, for the first time in months. "All right, you win. I am damn glad to see you again, CD."
"Likewise, cousin o' mine. Now let's get down to business."
TBC.............
