Title: 'People vs. Chegwidden' - Part Fourteen
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
From part thirteen:
Harm knew better than to argue. Probably she didn't have Mac or Trisha but he couldn't be sure that he would be quick enough to get to them before she did if he tried anything. In fact, he was sure that he would never make it in time. So he didn't resist as Maryann let his arms drop onto his thighs in the wheelchair, covered him with a blanket up to his neck and quickly made her way for the parking lot. His left arm was still hurting and he felt blood trickle out of the small wound.
"Can't I at least get a bandage?" he asked very low.
She only glared at him and pushed on.
'Think of something, Hammer. Anything... Sarah... Help... Call Sarah... Call... Phone... Cell-phone...'
Praying silently and fervently that his plan might work out, Harm under the blanket slowly moved his hand until it came to rest over the hidden pocket. He had no idea which key it was he was pushing. He only hoped that someone would answer. And understand what this mess was all about.
Across town, on a quiet street in Rosslyn, Claire Farnham was pulling into a parking space as her cell-phone started to beep. She cast a quick look at the display and her breath caught in her throat: the display clearly read 'Harm'.
Part Fourteen:
Tue, March 2nd 0141 ZULU Street in front of Fred and Claire's home Rosslyn, VA
"What the..." Claire immediately pulled the handbrake, set the hazard warning lights flashing and took the call.
"Farnham."
No answer, only strange noises.
"Hello? Harm, is that you? Mac?"
Still nothing. Claire was about to end the connection when something made her listen more intently. It had sounded like a cry of pain, slightly muffled as if the telephone were covered by a layer of cloth. Holding her breath, Claire tried to make out a few more details. She heard someone moan slightly, a male voice. Then something that could have been a car door slamming shut. And immediately afterwards a low rumbling sound, like from the ignition of a car's motor. Frowning, Claire raised the volume of her cell-phone to maximum. Suddenly she heard a voice. A voice she immediately recognized.
["So where are we going?"] Even though his voice was muffled, Claire could instantly make out that Harm seemed to be in pain.
A woman could be heard answering but she was too far away from Harm's cell- phone for Claire to make out any words. Luckily, Harm seemed to be aware of that. ["This is the Interstate to Richmond, isn't it?"]
Again, the woman said something and Harm commented on it. ["The woods. And that's where you're planning on disposing of me? Like you did with the barrels of chemicals?"]
Claire felt herself starting to tremble with fear. She had no idea why Harm had called her of all people, but apparently it was now up to her to come to his rescue. She didn't dare to honk the horn, fearing that whoever was with Harm might hear something. She couldn't call anyone, either, because that would mean that she had to end the connection to Harm and she knew she would need the signal to track him wherever he was brought. Getting out of her car while leaving the motor running, she sped up to her apartment, frantically fighting with her house keys to open the door, always listening to the cell-phone. Harm was making casual comments about what he saw at the side of the road, or commenting on his captor's answers to his questions. The woman seemed to think that, by talking, he was trying to establish a relationship with her, to prevent her from eventually killing him. But Claire knew better. Harm was trying to give her hints to follow. She needed Fred.
Claire breathlessly stormed into the apartment, once she had opened the door, and found a very surprised Fred looking up from his computer, dressed only in sports shorts and a t-shirt.
"Claire, what..." He didn't get any further.
"Ssshhh!" She agitatedly signaled him to stop. "Get your laptop and GPS and come with me at once! No questions, I'll explain later. Could be a matter of life or death!" she hissed, pointing her index finger at the cell-phone while grabbing Fred's sweatpants and woolen sweater that hung over the backrest of a nearby chair.
Fred was bewildered, to say the least, and normally he would have argued. But he had seen his fiancée's eyes. And he remembered only one time that he had witnessed such horror in them: when she had been forced to shoot his kidnapper during the Long Island investigation. Fred had hoped to never to encounter this expression again in the eyes of his love. Seeing it now, made him jump immediately. He reached for his laptop and GPS and followed her downstairs to her car, not caring that he was in shorts and t-shirt and wasn't wearing any shoes.
In the car, he rested the laptop on the back seat and put on the sweatpants and pullover that Claire had taken with her. Meanwhile, his fiancée had attached the cell-phone to the car's intercom.
["So you just leave the Interstate somewhere, get me into the woods and that's it? I thought I deserved something more spectacular or you wouldn't have bothered to take this much upon you."]
Hearing Harm's voice, Fred knew at once what this was about. Claire had driven off, heading directly for the I-95. "I need to call Voice Stream," Fred whispered to Claire. "They need to tell me which poles Harm's signal passed or I won't be able to track him."
"Okay, but speak low. I don't know exactly how much they might hear," Claire murmured back, keeping her eyes on the road, her hands clutched tightly around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. "Do you have any idea who she is?"
"Not only an idea," Fred whispered back. "I'm pretty sure she's Cmdr. Cramer."
"Oh God."
Fred attached his cell-phone to his laptop and quickly logged on to the Internet. Having found the Voice Stream service hotline, he disconnected and called.
"This is an emergency," he muttered as low as he thought would still be comprehensible, as soon as someone picked up. "This is Lieutenant j.g. Federico Prumetti speaking, United States Navy Judge Advocate General Corps. You can have someone check my identity but I need help this instant on tracking a phone connection. The owner of the number in question might be in mortal danger... Yes, I have the number," Fred quickly looked up Harm's cell on his computer screen and gave it to the clerk he was talking to. "No, Miss, listen: I can't wait. Someone's going to die if I don't get to him in time. Do you understand me?... Look, I... Listen," Fred quickly researched Sturgis's number in the virtual address book, "Get one of your colleagues to call this number." He read the number out to her. "You'll reach Cmdr. Sturgis Turner who's acting JAG right now. He'll confirm my identity. But I need your help now!!"
The urgent hissing had obviously convinced the clerk. Fred thanked her and began typing data into his navigation program. Shortly after, a line of broadcasting poles that Harm's signal had gone through, showed clearly on the electronic map. "What's your extension, Miss?... Okay... You keep tracking the signal. I'll call you back in no time. Thank you for your help." With that, he ended the call and immediately dialed Mac's number. 'Come on, Colonel, pick up!' he silently implored her.
"Rabb."
"Mac? This is Fred."
"Fred, what's up?" Mac sounded a little amused. "One could think you just..."
She didn't get to finish the sentence. "Mac, listen: Harm's been kidnapped by Cramer." Fred spoke hastily, trying to get everything out before Mac could ask for details. "For some reason he called Claire and we're now following him, based on the comments he's made on where they're going. They're on the I-95 right now. I'm tracking them down. Can you call Sturgis and maybe Sergei and get out here?"
The receiver seemed to be frozen in mid-air. Mac was paralyzed, hearing the news. "No, please..." she whispered, then took a deep breath, switching to Marine mode to shut out the panic and the pain. "I'm already out of here. Harm told me that he feared Cramer might come after Trisha and me if she found out about his state. So I'll take Trisha with me and I'll call Harriet to help us out with her parents' mountain cabin for us to hide out for a while. Keep me informed, Fred."
"Sure." He hesitated. "Mac?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry, we're right behind them."
Mac smiled, despite herself. "I know, Fred. Thanks. See you."
"See you, too." Fred ended the connection and immediately re-called the telephone company. "Lt. Prumetti here... yes, that's right. What have you got?... I see... So they just left the I-95... Can you give me the coordinates of that pole?... Yes, I've got them... No, by GPS... Okay, I see where they must be heading. Keep tracking, please. I'll call you back. Thank you so much."
"Do you know where they are?" Claire asked in an anxious murmur.
"Yeah," Fred hissed back, "At least I know where they must have left the Interstate. They seem to be heading west now. I suppose she plans on going up in the mountains. No one's gonna find Harm up there." Fred's voice was just a little bitter.
Claire reached over with her right hand and covered his left, briefly smiling at him. "Ci saremo noi, marinaio." [We'll be there, sailor.] Her voice wasn't entirely steady but she was trying to be brave. Fred knew that bravery wasn't a standard trait of Claire's character. At times she frightened rather easily and she tended to panic as long as she couldn't do anything but sit and wait. But it was at times like this that he once more remembered why he felt he could rely on her in full. Like back on Long Island. When the situation needed immediate action, Claire seemed to grow wings. Even frightened to death, she would act, and do it in a considered way. She may break down afterwards, but she always managed to handle the danger.
Fred had to admit to himself that, among other things, he also loved her for being vulnerable. Claire's emotional nature made the highs seem even higher. The sun was brighter if Claire was happy to see it shine. Claire could hear a piece of music for the hundredth time and still cry because it was so beautiful to her. Claire could light up his day just by being rapturous over the first flowers in the snow, or by lying on her back under the stars, totally at peace with the world, smiling contently as she listened to the silence for hours. And Fred adored her for the strength she found within her seeming weaknesses. Because she wasn't ashamed of them. 'This is me, I can't and won't do anything about it,' she used to say. And accepting that people at times might find her emotional side disturbing made her strong.
Fred knew Claire had walked down a long road to come to terms with her own nature. For too long, she had considered herself a frightened little girl, being constantly proven right by the opinions that her classmates would express about her and by the way they kept teasing and humiliating her, the good girl, the ardent student. For too long, Claire had tried to hide behind a mask of professionalism to protect herself from being hurt. She had refused to confront her true self. Until she had met him. Maybe that had been the first time that Claire Farnham had ever really trusted anyone else besides her parents. And she discovered that letting out the emotional side of her character, that she was so afraid of, made her feel free and more light-hearted than she had felt in years. She was aware that, by opening up, she exposed her inside to the danger of being hurt. But for the first time in her life Claire had been ready and willing to take the risk. Because of him. She had told him that. And he had vowed to himself and to her to protect her from the world that she had so long shut out.
"Earth to Fred?" Claire's voice entered his conscious.
"Sorry, I got carried away." He smiled at her.
Claire gently returned his smile. "Care to share?"
Blushing slightly, Fred decided that this wasn't the time for knight-in- shining-armor antics. "Not now," he replied softly, his grin widening.
Claire had an idea where his thoughts had been headed. Again she quickly extended her hand, softly caressing his cheek with the back of her index, smiling. "Ho già capito. Grazie per esserci per me, marinaio." [I see. Thanks for being there for me, sailor.]
Fred's smile intensified, holding just a slightly embarrassed edge. "Vedrai che ce la faremo, mio ben. Sarà tutto okay," he answered softly, reassuringly, earning himself another brief smile. [We're gonna make it, you'll see, honey. Everything's gonna be okay.]
"Lo so," she only answered confidently, turning her concentration back on the street. [I know.]
Fred checked his computer. "Okay, in about 500 yards we should get to the exit that they probably took. Did Harm say anything important while I was out of it?"
"No, he didn't say anything except that he wanted a bandage for his arm."
Just then, Harm spoke up again. ["Why are we stopping here?"]
Fred and Claire listened intently as Harm went on, replying to something Cramer must have said.
["So you're going to push me into the woods in the wheelchair and just leave me? Why not kill me right here?"]... ["Right, they would find me down here,"] obviously they were already out and underway, ["But they'll get to me up there, too, eventually."]... ["Okay, so you'll just drop me, put that wheelchair back into that white Landrover of yours and bring it back to the hospital? Why do you like white cars anyway?"]
"Look out for a white car!" Claire hissed, concentrating on the street that kept getting narrower and bumpier all the time.
Fred's cell-phone started to vibrate. "Prumetti."
"Fred? It's Mac. I'm in the car with Sturgis, Sergei, Jeannine and Trisha. We're to meet Harriet at the cabin as soon as we've got Harm. Where are you?" Fred could tell Mac was trying to hold her fear in check.
"We left the Interstate at exit number 38. We're headed west now. Harm and Cramer obviously left the car. Look out for a white Landrover."
"Understood. I'll call you."
"Okay, bye." Fred ended the call in time to hear Harm's next words.
["I can't get out of the wheelchair. You know that, Commander."]
A cry of pain and a thudding sound followed his statement. Then, low moaning and rustling was heard. It seemed Harm was still trying to keep his friends updated on his state. With a still more slurred pronunciation, he went on talking. ["So that's it? Do I get a last question to ask before you leave me alone?"]
Claire and Fred held her breaths as they frantically searched for any signs that might indicate where Harm and his captor had left their car.
["Okay. Would you mind coming over here? I can't hear you from there. Here's my question: did you kill Sydney Walden?"] Claire turned up the volume of her car's loudspeakers but just then the phone line went dead.
"Shit!" she exclaimed. "What now? Call him back?"
"No," Fred answered, thinking, "I think it's too dangerous. What if he isn't on VibraCall? We must continue the search on the basis of what we have now. We can narrow the area to a diameter of about five miles. I'll call the company to get their last detected position."
"Fred?"
"Yeah?"
"This will work, right?"
He sighed, not wanting to raise false hopes. "I hope it does."
Same time Unknown location
Harm's head was pounding and spinning furiously. He had hit it hard when Cramer had pulled him out of the wheelchair and let him drop to the ground. At least he hadn't fallen on his cell-phone. He was lying on the icy ground, half on his right side, half on his belly, but his right hand was within reach of his phone while his body shielded it from Cramer's view. There wasn't much he could do now for whoever might have gotten his earlier call. They'd come and find him or they wouldn't. It was out of his hands now. So, why not use the phone for better things, just in case he should make it out of here safely?
"So that's it? Do I get a last question to ask before you leave me alone?"
Maryann laughed a little. "Curious to the last, aren't we, Rabb? But why not? Ask."
"Okay. Would you mind coming over here? I can't hear you from there. Here's my question:" Harm tried to will the stars to stop dancing in front of his eyes. He needed a clear mind for what was going to follow. "Did you kill Sydney Walden?"
He slowly moved his hand inside his pocket and ended his previous call. Then he tried to locate the key he would need right now. Praying that it worked, he pressed it.
Maryann approached and sat down by his side. "Yes, I killed Doctor Walden," said coolly. "I'm amazed no one found out yet. Seems I really made sure not to leave traces."
Harm wanted the full version, just to be sure. "You went to her house, rang the bell, let her open the door and then you stabbed her."
"If you already knew that, why ask, Commander Rabb?" Maryann replied, icily and sweetly at the same time.
"Just to make sure."
"You're not in the place to investigate me any longer. So why bother?"
Harm only smiled enigmatically. "Just like that."
Maryann cast him a suspicious glance, but all she could detect in the lawyer's expression was neutral interest. "Why did you do it?" he eventually asked.
"Doctor Walden had found out about the chemicals. One of MG's drivers saw her poking around the barrels in the woods, taking notes. The money we save by getting rid of our garbage like that enables Branwick to stay competitive. Branwick's my granddad's life's work and I'd do anything to save the company. Through her disclosures, Sydney Walden had endangered it. So, you see, I had no choice. It was rather fortunate that the admiral showed up when he did."
Fuming, Harm willed himself to relax. "Thank you. No further questions." 'For the moment, Commander Cramer, for the moment only!'
"Good bye then, Rabb. It was nice meeting you. I'm only sorry it had to be under such nasty circumstances. I'll send flowers for your grave." With that, she turned, walked away and took the wheelchair with her.
Harm was alone. He tried to get up but didn't even make it as far as to his knees. 'Maybe I did ask too much of my body today,' he scolded himself, wishing he had listened to Mac's advice. He tried to crawl, but after a few yards he had to give way to his exhaustion. With one last effort he reached for his cell-phone, switching it to acoustic chiming, to make sure he heard if someone tried to call him. Next, he tried to call Mac, but exhaustion made him drop the phone. It toppled to the ground and slid out of reach of his hands. Frowning, he tried to stretch, but then everything just went black, his body finally refusing the service.
Same time Same region
"Look, Claire! That's her!" Fred exclaimed, making her jump.
"Who?"
"Cramer! Don't tell me you didn't notice the white SUV that just whooshed past us!"
"What? Uh... yes, I did. So, where did she come from?"
"Straight ahead. Look, there's something like an unofficial parking lot on the other side of the road."
Claire immediately pulled over. They got off the car, looking for traces. "I'm only glad there's some snow left," Claire remarked as she studied the ground.
"Yeah. And I'm glad you always insist on keeping my mountain boots in your car. Would you pass them to me?"
"Sure."
While Fred laced up his shoes, Claire quickly called Mac and supplied her with their present coordinates, always continuing to study the ground. "Look! Those traces could have been caused by a wheelchair!" she then called out to Fred.
"Right," Fred acknowledged, stepping up to her. "Let's go."
"Let's wait for Mac and the rest of us. They should be here in five."
Five minutes later, Harm's SUV came to a halt beside them. Claire chose to stay in the car with Jeannine and Trisha, handing her jacket to Fred, while a very pale but composed Mac, an unperturbedly calm but frowning Sturgis and an excessively worried but still slightly smiling Sergei joined the search party that set off, following the marks left in the snow.
The farther they went into the woods, the lesser became the snow, and with it, the traces. Eventually they ended.
"Maybe we should split up?" Sergei suggested, not sure if he was saying the right thing.
"Wait," Mac cut in. "I'd first like to try something." In her purse, she fished for her cell-phone and dialed Harm's number. They were lucky. Not too far away, a low chiming sound could be heard.
This sound was all that was necessary to make them run. Mac took the lead, the chiming causing joy and fear within her at the same time. Then she saw him.
"Harm!!!"
He lay still. Cold fear clutched Mac's heart. 'No, please, God, no!' She flung herself down on her knees by his side, gently turned him over so that his head came to rest in her lap, feeling for a pulse. He was so cold!
"Is he alive?" Sturgis panted as he reached them, immediately getting down at Harm's other side.
Mac, to her infinite relief, had found a pulse that even seemed to be rather steady. And he was breathing, too. "Yes, he is," she answered, continuing to stroke Harm's head and face in order to get him to wake up. "Harm. Harm! Can you hear me? It's me, Sarah!"
Sarah... Call Sarah... Help... Sarah found me... Slowly the darkness that had prevailed in Harm's mind began to dissolve. "Sarah..." he whispered, fighting with his eyelids, still unable to move for all the fatigue that he felt.
"I'm right here, flyboy, now don't you pass out on me again, do you hear me? We'll get you to the Sims' mountain cabin and we'll all hide out there. You, me, Trisha, Sergei and Janni. You still with me?"
"Yeah... tired..."
In his state of beginning hypothermia, sleeping could be dangerous. Mac knew she had to do everything in her power to keep him awake. "Talk to me, sailor. Tell me everything about how she got to you."
Meanwhile, Sturgis, Fred and Sergei had lifted him onto a makeshift stretcher that Sergei and Fred had hastily constructed with two broken-down saplings, Sergei's coat and their shoelaces. Now they carefully carried him down the hill to his waiting car, always trying to keep him talking.
Finally they were on the road to the Sims' cabin. Sturgis was behind the wheel with Fred at his side. Sergei, Jeannine and Claire had taken the backseat with Trisha while Mac was securely holding Harm in her arms on the middle bench.
"Mac?" he whispered, smiling slightly.
"Yeah?" Mac found his smile was contagious.
"Thanks for coming after me. How did you find me?"
"You called Claire, remember?"
His smile intensified for a moment. "So it was Claire that got the lucky shot."
"Yes. She immediately dragged Fred out and went to your rescue. Fred informed me and had the phone company track your cell's signal."
"Wow. And all that for an old man like me," he whispered, slightly squeezing her hand. Before she could protest, he changed the subject. "I've got a surprise for you, ninja-girl," he admitted softly.
Mac only looked at him with upraised eyebrows.
"Take my cell, please," he told her. As Mac had complied, he smiled again. "Now press that little button up on the right. And listen."
Curious, Mac did as she was told. And Harm watched with growing amusement as her eyes started getting wide while listening.
["Yes, I killed Doctor Walden. I'm amazed no one found out yet. Seems I really made sure not to leave traces."
"You went to her house, rang the bell, let her open the door and then you stabbed her."
"If you already knew that, why ask, Commander Rabb?"
"Just to make sure."
"You're not in the place to investigate me any longer. So why bother?"
"Just like that. Why did you do it?"
"Doctor Walden had found out about the chemicals. One of MG's drivers saw her poking around the barrels in the woods, taking notes. The money we save by getting rid of our garbage like that enables Branwick to stay competitive. Branwick's my granddad's life's work and I'd do anything to save the company. Through her disclosures, Sydney Walden had endangered it. So, you see, I had no choice. It was rather fortunate that the admiral showed up when he did."
"Thank you. No further questions."]
When the recording had ended, Mac gaped at her husband, at a loss of words. This was all the proof they needed. Maryann's voice was faint but still comprehensible. At last, Mac found her speech. "So you're telling me that while she was trying to get rid of you, you, just like that, coaxed her into supplying us with the one decisive piece of evidence that will clear Chegwidden's name?" she asked, thunderstruck by how he had kept a cool head in spite of his situation.
"Yep." Harm just grinned.
Mac bent down and passionately kissed him. "Do you know that you're an amazing man, Harmon Rabb, Jr.?"
Keeping his eyes shut, a very satisfied expression showing on his face, he acknowledged. "Yes. And that's exactly why you love me, Colonel."
As he heard her snort, he had a hard time to keep his mouth from twitching.
To be continued... (Feedback always appreciated!)
From part thirteen:
Harm knew better than to argue. Probably she didn't have Mac or Trisha but he couldn't be sure that he would be quick enough to get to them before she did if he tried anything. In fact, he was sure that he would never make it in time. So he didn't resist as Maryann let his arms drop onto his thighs in the wheelchair, covered him with a blanket up to his neck and quickly made her way for the parking lot. His left arm was still hurting and he felt blood trickle out of the small wound.
"Can't I at least get a bandage?" he asked very low.
She only glared at him and pushed on.
'Think of something, Hammer. Anything... Sarah... Help... Call Sarah... Call... Phone... Cell-phone...'
Praying silently and fervently that his plan might work out, Harm under the blanket slowly moved his hand until it came to rest over the hidden pocket. He had no idea which key it was he was pushing. He only hoped that someone would answer. And understand what this mess was all about.
Across town, on a quiet street in Rosslyn, Claire Farnham was pulling into a parking space as her cell-phone started to beep. She cast a quick look at the display and her breath caught in her throat: the display clearly read 'Harm'.
Part Fourteen:
Tue, March 2nd 0141 ZULU Street in front of Fred and Claire's home Rosslyn, VA
"What the..." Claire immediately pulled the handbrake, set the hazard warning lights flashing and took the call.
"Farnham."
No answer, only strange noises.
"Hello? Harm, is that you? Mac?"
Still nothing. Claire was about to end the connection when something made her listen more intently. It had sounded like a cry of pain, slightly muffled as if the telephone were covered by a layer of cloth. Holding her breath, Claire tried to make out a few more details. She heard someone moan slightly, a male voice. Then something that could have been a car door slamming shut. And immediately afterwards a low rumbling sound, like from the ignition of a car's motor. Frowning, Claire raised the volume of her cell-phone to maximum. Suddenly she heard a voice. A voice she immediately recognized.
["So where are we going?"] Even though his voice was muffled, Claire could instantly make out that Harm seemed to be in pain.
A woman could be heard answering but she was too far away from Harm's cell- phone for Claire to make out any words. Luckily, Harm seemed to be aware of that. ["This is the Interstate to Richmond, isn't it?"]
Again, the woman said something and Harm commented on it. ["The woods. And that's where you're planning on disposing of me? Like you did with the barrels of chemicals?"]
Claire felt herself starting to tremble with fear. She had no idea why Harm had called her of all people, but apparently it was now up to her to come to his rescue. She didn't dare to honk the horn, fearing that whoever was with Harm might hear something. She couldn't call anyone, either, because that would mean that she had to end the connection to Harm and she knew she would need the signal to track him wherever he was brought. Getting out of her car while leaving the motor running, she sped up to her apartment, frantically fighting with her house keys to open the door, always listening to the cell-phone. Harm was making casual comments about what he saw at the side of the road, or commenting on his captor's answers to his questions. The woman seemed to think that, by talking, he was trying to establish a relationship with her, to prevent her from eventually killing him. But Claire knew better. Harm was trying to give her hints to follow. She needed Fred.
Claire breathlessly stormed into the apartment, once she had opened the door, and found a very surprised Fred looking up from his computer, dressed only in sports shorts and a t-shirt.
"Claire, what..." He didn't get any further.
"Ssshhh!" She agitatedly signaled him to stop. "Get your laptop and GPS and come with me at once! No questions, I'll explain later. Could be a matter of life or death!" she hissed, pointing her index finger at the cell-phone while grabbing Fred's sweatpants and woolen sweater that hung over the backrest of a nearby chair.
Fred was bewildered, to say the least, and normally he would have argued. But he had seen his fiancée's eyes. And he remembered only one time that he had witnessed such horror in them: when she had been forced to shoot his kidnapper during the Long Island investigation. Fred had hoped to never to encounter this expression again in the eyes of his love. Seeing it now, made him jump immediately. He reached for his laptop and GPS and followed her downstairs to her car, not caring that he was in shorts and t-shirt and wasn't wearing any shoes.
In the car, he rested the laptop on the back seat and put on the sweatpants and pullover that Claire had taken with her. Meanwhile, his fiancée had attached the cell-phone to the car's intercom.
["So you just leave the Interstate somewhere, get me into the woods and that's it? I thought I deserved something more spectacular or you wouldn't have bothered to take this much upon you."]
Hearing Harm's voice, Fred knew at once what this was about. Claire had driven off, heading directly for the I-95. "I need to call Voice Stream," Fred whispered to Claire. "They need to tell me which poles Harm's signal passed or I won't be able to track him."
"Okay, but speak low. I don't know exactly how much they might hear," Claire murmured back, keeping her eyes on the road, her hands clutched tightly around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. "Do you have any idea who she is?"
"Not only an idea," Fred whispered back. "I'm pretty sure she's Cmdr. Cramer."
"Oh God."
Fred attached his cell-phone to his laptop and quickly logged on to the Internet. Having found the Voice Stream service hotline, he disconnected and called.
"This is an emergency," he muttered as low as he thought would still be comprehensible, as soon as someone picked up. "This is Lieutenant j.g. Federico Prumetti speaking, United States Navy Judge Advocate General Corps. You can have someone check my identity but I need help this instant on tracking a phone connection. The owner of the number in question might be in mortal danger... Yes, I have the number," Fred quickly looked up Harm's cell on his computer screen and gave it to the clerk he was talking to. "No, Miss, listen: I can't wait. Someone's going to die if I don't get to him in time. Do you understand me?... Look, I... Listen," Fred quickly researched Sturgis's number in the virtual address book, "Get one of your colleagues to call this number." He read the number out to her. "You'll reach Cmdr. Sturgis Turner who's acting JAG right now. He'll confirm my identity. But I need your help now!!"
The urgent hissing had obviously convinced the clerk. Fred thanked her and began typing data into his navigation program. Shortly after, a line of broadcasting poles that Harm's signal had gone through, showed clearly on the electronic map. "What's your extension, Miss?... Okay... You keep tracking the signal. I'll call you back in no time. Thank you for your help." With that, he ended the call and immediately dialed Mac's number. 'Come on, Colonel, pick up!' he silently implored her.
"Rabb."
"Mac? This is Fred."
"Fred, what's up?" Mac sounded a little amused. "One could think you just..."
She didn't get to finish the sentence. "Mac, listen: Harm's been kidnapped by Cramer." Fred spoke hastily, trying to get everything out before Mac could ask for details. "For some reason he called Claire and we're now following him, based on the comments he's made on where they're going. They're on the I-95 right now. I'm tracking them down. Can you call Sturgis and maybe Sergei and get out here?"
The receiver seemed to be frozen in mid-air. Mac was paralyzed, hearing the news. "No, please..." she whispered, then took a deep breath, switching to Marine mode to shut out the panic and the pain. "I'm already out of here. Harm told me that he feared Cramer might come after Trisha and me if she found out about his state. So I'll take Trisha with me and I'll call Harriet to help us out with her parents' mountain cabin for us to hide out for a while. Keep me informed, Fred."
"Sure." He hesitated. "Mac?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry, we're right behind them."
Mac smiled, despite herself. "I know, Fred. Thanks. See you."
"See you, too." Fred ended the connection and immediately re-called the telephone company. "Lt. Prumetti here... yes, that's right. What have you got?... I see... So they just left the I-95... Can you give me the coordinates of that pole?... Yes, I've got them... No, by GPS... Okay, I see where they must be heading. Keep tracking, please. I'll call you back. Thank you so much."
"Do you know where they are?" Claire asked in an anxious murmur.
"Yeah," Fred hissed back, "At least I know where they must have left the Interstate. They seem to be heading west now. I suppose she plans on going up in the mountains. No one's gonna find Harm up there." Fred's voice was just a little bitter.
Claire reached over with her right hand and covered his left, briefly smiling at him. "Ci saremo noi, marinaio." [We'll be there, sailor.] Her voice wasn't entirely steady but she was trying to be brave. Fred knew that bravery wasn't a standard trait of Claire's character. At times she frightened rather easily and she tended to panic as long as she couldn't do anything but sit and wait. But it was at times like this that he once more remembered why he felt he could rely on her in full. Like back on Long Island. When the situation needed immediate action, Claire seemed to grow wings. Even frightened to death, she would act, and do it in a considered way. She may break down afterwards, but she always managed to handle the danger.
Fred had to admit to himself that, among other things, he also loved her for being vulnerable. Claire's emotional nature made the highs seem even higher. The sun was brighter if Claire was happy to see it shine. Claire could hear a piece of music for the hundredth time and still cry because it was so beautiful to her. Claire could light up his day just by being rapturous over the first flowers in the snow, or by lying on her back under the stars, totally at peace with the world, smiling contently as she listened to the silence for hours. And Fred adored her for the strength she found within her seeming weaknesses. Because she wasn't ashamed of them. 'This is me, I can't and won't do anything about it,' she used to say. And accepting that people at times might find her emotional side disturbing made her strong.
Fred knew Claire had walked down a long road to come to terms with her own nature. For too long, she had considered herself a frightened little girl, being constantly proven right by the opinions that her classmates would express about her and by the way they kept teasing and humiliating her, the good girl, the ardent student. For too long, Claire had tried to hide behind a mask of professionalism to protect herself from being hurt. She had refused to confront her true self. Until she had met him. Maybe that had been the first time that Claire Farnham had ever really trusted anyone else besides her parents. And she discovered that letting out the emotional side of her character, that she was so afraid of, made her feel free and more light-hearted than she had felt in years. She was aware that, by opening up, she exposed her inside to the danger of being hurt. But for the first time in her life Claire had been ready and willing to take the risk. Because of him. She had told him that. And he had vowed to himself and to her to protect her from the world that she had so long shut out.
"Earth to Fred?" Claire's voice entered his conscious.
"Sorry, I got carried away." He smiled at her.
Claire gently returned his smile. "Care to share?"
Blushing slightly, Fred decided that this wasn't the time for knight-in- shining-armor antics. "Not now," he replied softly, his grin widening.
Claire had an idea where his thoughts had been headed. Again she quickly extended her hand, softly caressing his cheek with the back of her index, smiling. "Ho già capito. Grazie per esserci per me, marinaio." [I see. Thanks for being there for me, sailor.]
Fred's smile intensified, holding just a slightly embarrassed edge. "Vedrai che ce la faremo, mio ben. Sarà tutto okay," he answered softly, reassuringly, earning himself another brief smile. [We're gonna make it, you'll see, honey. Everything's gonna be okay.]
"Lo so," she only answered confidently, turning her concentration back on the street. [I know.]
Fred checked his computer. "Okay, in about 500 yards we should get to the exit that they probably took. Did Harm say anything important while I was out of it?"
"No, he didn't say anything except that he wanted a bandage for his arm."
Just then, Harm spoke up again. ["Why are we stopping here?"]
Fred and Claire listened intently as Harm went on, replying to something Cramer must have said.
["So you're going to push me into the woods in the wheelchair and just leave me? Why not kill me right here?"]... ["Right, they would find me down here,"] obviously they were already out and underway, ["But they'll get to me up there, too, eventually."]... ["Okay, so you'll just drop me, put that wheelchair back into that white Landrover of yours and bring it back to the hospital? Why do you like white cars anyway?"]
"Look out for a white car!" Claire hissed, concentrating on the street that kept getting narrower and bumpier all the time.
Fred's cell-phone started to vibrate. "Prumetti."
"Fred? It's Mac. I'm in the car with Sturgis, Sergei, Jeannine and Trisha. We're to meet Harriet at the cabin as soon as we've got Harm. Where are you?" Fred could tell Mac was trying to hold her fear in check.
"We left the Interstate at exit number 38. We're headed west now. Harm and Cramer obviously left the car. Look out for a white Landrover."
"Understood. I'll call you."
"Okay, bye." Fred ended the call in time to hear Harm's next words.
["I can't get out of the wheelchair. You know that, Commander."]
A cry of pain and a thudding sound followed his statement. Then, low moaning and rustling was heard. It seemed Harm was still trying to keep his friends updated on his state. With a still more slurred pronunciation, he went on talking. ["So that's it? Do I get a last question to ask before you leave me alone?"]
Claire and Fred held her breaths as they frantically searched for any signs that might indicate where Harm and his captor had left their car.
["Okay. Would you mind coming over here? I can't hear you from there. Here's my question: did you kill Sydney Walden?"] Claire turned up the volume of her car's loudspeakers but just then the phone line went dead.
"Shit!" she exclaimed. "What now? Call him back?"
"No," Fred answered, thinking, "I think it's too dangerous. What if he isn't on VibraCall? We must continue the search on the basis of what we have now. We can narrow the area to a diameter of about five miles. I'll call the company to get their last detected position."
"Fred?"
"Yeah?"
"This will work, right?"
He sighed, not wanting to raise false hopes. "I hope it does."
Same time Unknown location
Harm's head was pounding and spinning furiously. He had hit it hard when Cramer had pulled him out of the wheelchair and let him drop to the ground. At least he hadn't fallen on his cell-phone. He was lying on the icy ground, half on his right side, half on his belly, but his right hand was within reach of his phone while his body shielded it from Cramer's view. There wasn't much he could do now for whoever might have gotten his earlier call. They'd come and find him or they wouldn't. It was out of his hands now. So, why not use the phone for better things, just in case he should make it out of here safely?
"So that's it? Do I get a last question to ask before you leave me alone?"
Maryann laughed a little. "Curious to the last, aren't we, Rabb? But why not? Ask."
"Okay. Would you mind coming over here? I can't hear you from there. Here's my question:" Harm tried to will the stars to stop dancing in front of his eyes. He needed a clear mind for what was going to follow. "Did you kill Sydney Walden?"
He slowly moved his hand inside his pocket and ended his previous call. Then he tried to locate the key he would need right now. Praying that it worked, he pressed it.
Maryann approached and sat down by his side. "Yes, I killed Doctor Walden," said coolly. "I'm amazed no one found out yet. Seems I really made sure not to leave traces."
Harm wanted the full version, just to be sure. "You went to her house, rang the bell, let her open the door and then you stabbed her."
"If you already knew that, why ask, Commander Rabb?" Maryann replied, icily and sweetly at the same time.
"Just to make sure."
"You're not in the place to investigate me any longer. So why bother?"
Harm only smiled enigmatically. "Just like that."
Maryann cast him a suspicious glance, but all she could detect in the lawyer's expression was neutral interest. "Why did you do it?" he eventually asked.
"Doctor Walden had found out about the chemicals. One of MG's drivers saw her poking around the barrels in the woods, taking notes. The money we save by getting rid of our garbage like that enables Branwick to stay competitive. Branwick's my granddad's life's work and I'd do anything to save the company. Through her disclosures, Sydney Walden had endangered it. So, you see, I had no choice. It was rather fortunate that the admiral showed up when he did."
Fuming, Harm willed himself to relax. "Thank you. No further questions." 'For the moment, Commander Cramer, for the moment only!'
"Good bye then, Rabb. It was nice meeting you. I'm only sorry it had to be under such nasty circumstances. I'll send flowers for your grave." With that, she turned, walked away and took the wheelchair with her.
Harm was alone. He tried to get up but didn't even make it as far as to his knees. 'Maybe I did ask too much of my body today,' he scolded himself, wishing he had listened to Mac's advice. He tried to crawl, but after a few yards he had to give way to his exhaustion. With one last effort he reached for his cell-phone, switching it to acoustic chiming, to make sure he heard if someone tried to call him. Next, he tried to call Mac, but exhaustion made him drop the phone. It toppled to the ground and slid out of reach of his hands. Frowning, he tried to stretch, but then everything just went black, his body finally refusing the service.
Same time Same region
"Look, Claire! That's her!" Fred exclaimed, making her jump.
"Who?"
"Cramer! Don't tell me you didn't notice the white SUV that just whooshed past us!"
"What? Uh... yes, I did. So, where did she come from?"
"Straight ahead. Look, there's something like an unofficial parking lot on the other side of the road."
Claire immediately pulled over. They got off the car, looking for traces. "I'm only glad there's some snow left," Claire remarked as she studied the ground.
"Yeah. And I'm glad you always insist on keeping my mountain boots in your car. Would you pass them to me?"
"Sure."
While Fred laced up his shoes, Claire quickly called Mac and supplied her with their present coordinates, always continuing to study the ground. "Look! Those traces could have been caused by a wheelchair!" she then called out to Fred.
"Right," Fred acknowledged, stepping up to her. "Let's go."
"Let's wait for Mac and the rest of us. They should be here in five."
Five minutes later, Harm's SUV came to a halt beside them. Claire chose to stay in the car with Jeannine and Trisha, handing her jacket to Fred, while a very pale but composed Mac, an unperturbedly calm but frowning Sturgis and an excessively worried but still slightly smiling Sergei joined the search party that set off, following the marks left in the snow.
The farther they went into the woods, the lesser became the snow, and with it, the traces. Eventually they ended.
"Maybe we should split up?" Sergei suggested, not sure if he was saying the right thing.
"Wait," Mac cut in. "I'd first like to try something." In her purse, she fished for her cell-phone and dialed Harm's number. They were lucky. Not too far away, a low chiming sound could be heard.
This sound was all that was necessary to make them run. Mac took the lead, the chiming causing joy and fear within her at the same time. Then she saw him.
"Harm!!!"
He lay still. Cold fear clutched Mac's heart. 'No, please, God, no!' She flung herself down on her knees by his side, gently turned him over so that his head came to rest in her lap, feeling for a pulse. He was so cold!
"Is he alive?" Sturgis panted as he reached them, immediately getting down at Harm's other side.
Mac, to her infinite relief, had found a pulse that even seemed to be rather steady. And he was breathing, too. "Yes, he is," she answered, continuing to stroke Harm's head and face in order to get him to wake up. "Harm. Harm! Can you hear me? It's me, Sarah!"
Sarah... Call Sarah... Help... Sarah found me... Slowly the darkness that had prevailed in Harm's mind began to dissolve. "Sarah..." he whispered, fighting with his eyelids, still unable to move for all the fatigue that he felt.
"I'm right here, flyboy, now don't you pass out on me again, do you hear me? We'll get you to the Sims' mountain cabin and we'll all hide out there. You, me, Trisha, Sergei and Janni. You still with me?"
"Yeah... tired..."
In his state of beginning hypothermia, sleeping could be dangerous. Mac knew she had to do everything in her power to keep him awake. "Talk to me, sailor. Tell me everything about how she got to you."
Meanwhile, Sturgis, Fred and Sergei had lifted him onto a makeshift stretcher that Sergei and Fred had hastily constructed with two broken-down saplings, Sergei's coat and their shoelaces. Now they carefully carried him down the hill to his waiting car, always trying to keep him talking.
Finally they were on the road to the Sims' cabin. Sturgis was behind the wheel with Fred at his side. Sergei, Jeannine and Claire had taken the backseat with Trisha while Mac was securely holding Harm in her arms on the middle bench.
"Mac?" he whispered, smiling slightly.
"Yeah?" Mac found his smile was contagious.
"Thanks for coming after me. How did you find me?"
"You called Claire, remember?"
His smile intensified for a moment. "So it was Claire that got the lucky shot."
"Yes. She immediately dragged Fred out and went to your rescue. Fred informed me and had the phone company track your cell's signal."
"Wow. And all that for an old man like me," he whispered, slightly squeezing her hand. Before she could protest, he changed the subject. "I've got a surprise for you, ninja-girl," he admitted softly.
Mac only looked at him with upraised eyebrows.
"Take my cell, please," he told her. As Mac had complied, he smiled again. "Now press that little button up on the right. And listen."
Curious, Mac did as she was told. And Harm watched with growing amusement as her eyes started getting wide while listening.
["Yes, I killed Doctor Walden. I'm amazed no one found out yet. Seems I really made sure not to leave traces."
"You went to her house, rang the bell, let her open the door and then you stabbed her."
"If you already knew that, why ask, Commander Rabb?"
"Just to make sure."
"You're not in the place to investigate me any longer. So why bother?"
"Just like that. Why did you do it?"
"Doctor Walden had found out about the chemicals. One of MG's drivers saw her poking around the barrels in the woods, taking notes. The money we save by getting rid of our garbage like that enables Branwick to stay competitive. Branwick's my granddad's life's work and I'd do anything to save the company. Through her disclosures, Sydney Walden had endangered it. So, you see, I had no choice. It was rather fortunate that the admiral showed up when he did."
"Thank you. No further questions."]
When the recording had ended, Mac gaped at her husband, at a loss of words. This was all the proof they needed. Maryann's voice was faint but still comprehensible. At last, Mac found her speech. "So you're telling me that while she was trying to get rid of you, you, just like that, coaxed her into supplying us with the one decisive piece of evidence that will clear Chegwidden's name?" she asked, thunderstruck by how he had kept a cool head in spite of his situation.
"Yep." Harm just grinned.
Mac bent down and passionately kissed him. "Do you know that you're an amazing man, Harmon Rabb, Jr.?"
Keeping his eyes shut, a very satisfied expression showing on his face, he acknowledged. "Yes. And that's exactly why you love me, Colonel."
As he heard her snort, he had a hard time to keep his mouth from twitching.
To be continued... (Feedback always appreciated!)