Special Disclaimer: I'm a lawyer, not a scientist.
**************************************************************
One week later
JAG HQ
1053 local
Mercedes carefully slid the elegant black Benz sedan into a parking space,
shut off the engine, then paused. She was still in shock over her discovery in
Yekaterinburg, but that wasn't stopping her from taking action.
Had it really been only a week since she had found herself waking up on
the floor of a Russian morgue, trying to adsorb what she'd discovered? That
somehow, her uncle, an American Navy pilot shot down over Vietnam in 1969, had
died and been buried in the middle of the Russian wilderness? Her mind couldn't
even begin to imagine the events that had brought him to the then-Soviet Union.
And if she guessed correctly, she didn't have time to.
The fact was, the Russians knew about the ring inscription, which meant
they knew that the remains belonged to an English speaker- possibly even an
American. Mercedes knew damn well that if that information reached the wrong
parties, her uncle's remains would simply vanish. She wasn't about to let that
happen; one way or another, Lt. Harmon Rabb Sr., USN, was coming home. If not
for his sake, then for her cousin's and aunt's.
Which was why she was back at JAG--- not that her cousin would see her.
He'd steadfastly refused any attempts she'd made to try to contact him, and to
explain and apologize for the previous debacle.
As she began collecting her things, CD reflected on that mess, and
reluctantly acknowledged that hindsight was, in addition to the cliché of being
20/20, a real pain in the ass. Yeah, that first day, she'd been caught
completely off guard and had lied to the Admiral out of reflex, if you could
call it that. But why she didn't fix it afterwards.....? She sighed. That was
the problem with doing stupid things. You usually only realized they were
stupid after it was too late to fix them without looking like a total moron.
With another sigh, Mercedes tucked the briefcase under her arm and climbed
out of the car. Things weren't going to get any better by sitting out here
dithering. And with the matter at hand, time was not something she had a lot
of.
Up in the bullpen, she scanned the offices. Some higher power must have
been smiling on her; her cousin's office was closed and empty. Finally, she
spotted her destination. Straightening her long skirt and severe jacket, she
took a deep breath and headed for Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie's office.
*****************
"Mic, how many times do I have to tell you? It's just not a good time
right now," Mac said wearily.
"When will be a good time, Sarah?" Mic shot back, his anger evident and
growing.
She was about to reply when there was a knock at the office door.
"Enter," she called, holding up a hand to silence Mic.
"Colonel MacKenzie?" Mercedes asked tentatively as she entered.
To say Mac was surprised was an understatement. She'd expected that at
some point she'd see Mercedes Rabb again, but not this soon, and certainly not
here at JAG. She looked over Harm's cousin, noting the sharply tailored black
suit with its unusual ankle-length skirt, the plain but clearly expensive gold
dress watch in place of the large chronograph she'd worn previously. Her hair
was pulled back into a smooth, flawless but severe chignon, which only
emphasized Mercedes's unusually pale and somewhat gaunt face. This was clearly
not a social call. "Investigator Rabb," she responded, not missing the surprise
on Mic's face.
"Forgive me," Mercedes began, "I didn't realize you were busy with another
appointment."
Mac cut her off politely. "I'm not. This is my fiancé, Mic Brumby.
Mic, this is Mercedes Rabb, a forensic specialist with the Virginia State
Investigative Bureau."
Mercedes politely extended a hand. "Mr. Brumby, it's a pleasure," she said
as blandly as possible. Something about the man wasn't sitting right with her,
even though she'd just met him.
"Miss Rabb," Mic returned, turning on the charm. Rather than return the
proffered handshake, Mic slowly took Mercedes's hand and kissed it.
For her part, Mercedes barely controlled the impulse to snatch back her
hand and wipe it off vigorously on her skirt. She hadn't missed Mic's blatant
ogling of her figure, nor the fact that his eyes were firmly locked on her chest
while he kissed her hand. The action made her skin crawl. Whatever Mac saw in
this guy, it must have been something completely different than what CD saw. Oh
well, some women thought this sort of thing was charming. Mercedes herself just
thought it was annoying and mildly sleazy.
She was so busy assessing the man she nearly missed his next comment.
"Rabb.... you wouldn't be related to Harm Rabb here, would you?
"He's my cousin," Mercedes answered distractedly. "Look,
Colonel, if you don't have time to talk, I can come back later." She glanced at
Mic. "I'm afraid that what I need to discuss with you must be done in private."
Mac could've kissed Mercedes Rabb; she'd been trying to get Mic to leave
for the better part of an hour. "No, no," Mac insisted, "Please, have a seat.
Mic was just leaving," she added pointedly. She didn't miss the irritated
scowl on his face as she said this.
Mercedes watched as Mic moved over to press a kiss to Mac's cheek, saying,
"We'll finish this later, luv," then took his leave.
Mac sat down, sighing, then looked at the other woman. "Sorry about
that."
"Nothing to apologize, for, Colonel. I'm just glad you're willing to see
me," Mercedes answered.
"Unlike your cousin," Mac replied wryly. "So what can I do for you,
Mercedes?"
Here goes nothing, CD thought. "I'm hoping you could put me in contact
with someone at the State Department. Someone you know and trust."
Mac was quiet for a bit. Of all the possible reasons for CD's appearance
she'd come up with, that hadn't been one of them. "May I ask why?"
"I.... I may have stumbled on to some information," CD replied uneasily.
How much should she tell her?
"What sort of information?" Mac asked, warning bells going off in her
head.
Damn. She should have known Mac wasn't going to just give her what she
needed and then turn a blind eye. Well, hell, Mercedes thought, might as well
go for broke. "Mac," she said quietly, "how much do you know about Harm's
father?"
Mac blinked. Again, of all the things she'd been imagining, that hadn't
been one of them. "A lot more than you might think," she responded equally
quietly. Time to put the cards on the table. "I think you'd better just tell
me what's going on, Mercedes."
CD took a deep breath. "All right, but I need to give you a bit of
background, so bear with me."
"I don't know if you know, but I got my degrees from the University of
Florida-- my undergrad in 1993, and my master's in '96. My master's and my main
undergrad field was forensic anthropology, and I spent a great deal of time in
the C. A. Pound Human Remains Identification Lab. Our main professor was one of
the top experts in the world. So in late 1992, he and several others were
called to Russia, Yekaterinburg in particular, to work on a very.... exclusive
case."
"Wait a minute," Mac interrupted. "Yekaterinburg? Wasn't that where
they found the remains of Tsar Nicholas II and his family?"
Mercedes nodded. "Exactly, and that's why we were there."
"We?"
"We. I was nearly done with my undergrad degree, having gone year-
round, and Dr. Beckham had already assured me I was going to be accepted to grad
school there. So he made one hell of an exception and allowed me to come along
as an assistant."
"Wow."
"Yeah. Anyway, while I was there, I made quite a few friends among the
local morgue staff. After we left, I still kept in touch, and continued to do
so. About a month ago, not too long after everything happened here," she said,
wincing slightly, "one of them contacted me. Seems he had a mysterious set of
remains found in the middle of nowhere by some mineral prospector. Asked if I'd
like to work on it, if I was available. Having just gotten a four-month
suspension from my job here, time was not an issue," she added dryly.
"Ouch. Four months?" Mac asked.
"Ummm-hmm."
"I see. So you went to Russia..." Mac prompted, a sickening, sinking
feeling in her stomach telling her where the story was leading, but at the same
time refusing to believe it.
"I went to Russia, got access, and started to work. Now, on a case like
this," Mercedes explained, "I always start off the same way. I take detailed
notes and measurements, lay out the remains in proper order, and run a DNA
sample. Since the DNA analysis processor had been shipped from the US, I ran a
sample of my own DNA through to check the calibration when I ran the unknown
sample."
CD paused, taking a deep breath. "Mac," she said in a voice so quiet it
was nearly a whisper, "the two samples were similar...too similar to be
anything but relatives."
"Oh my God." Mac couldn't believe what she was hearing. It just wasn't
possible...was it? This would destroy Harm.....
"I know. Even with that, though, I wasn't willing to believe I was looking
at my uncle. I mean, what on earth was he doing in Russia? Not possible,
right?" Mercedes added with a weak, mirthless laugh. "Then I asked Georgi-- the
friend who brought me there-- if there had been any effects found with the
remains."
Mac's face was now as white as Mercedes's. "Oh no. You found something
that confirmed it, didn't you?"
CD's answer was to open the case and remove a large photograph. The
quality was poor; it looked like it had been a much smaller picture that had
been enlarged and enhanced with a computer. "I couldn't take a good close-up of
just the ring; that would have been far too suspicious. But this is good
enough, and you can read the inscription."
Mac's eyes grew large as she took the photograph of the simple gold band,
reading the inscription. "Harmon & Patricia - Love Eternal," she whispered.
"Dear God."
"I'm sorry to drop this on you, Mac," CD added quietly. "But I was out of
ideas, and I've got to do something, and quickly. The minute the right people
over there realize what we've found, he's gone. And I can't let that happen. I
won't let it happen."
Swallowing, Mercedes leaned forward to look the stunned Marine straight in
the eye. "Help me bring him home, Mac. Please."
TBC....
***********************************************************************
AN: The C.A. Pound Human Remains Identification Laboratory is located in the
Florida Museum of Natural History on the University of Florida campus in
Gainesville, Florida, and is considered to be one of the best forensic labs in
the country, if not the world. Mercedes's "Dr. Beckham" is actually the lab's
former director, Dr. Wm. H. Maples, who was one of the few American scientists
involved in the identification of the Romanov remains found in Yekaterinburg
(aka Svedlosk), Russia in 1991. He also worked on many other high profile
cases, including the Gainesville student murders. Sadly, this brilliant man
died in 1997, but if interested, you can read about many of his cases in his
book, "Dead Men Do Tell Tales". I highly recommend it.
Layla, UF class of 1993 ;o)
**************************************************************
One week later
JAG HQ
1053 local
Mercedes carefully slid the elegant black Benz sedan into a parking space,
shut off the engine, then paused. She was still in shock over her discovery in
Yekaterinburg, but that wasn't stopping her from taking action.
Had it really been only a week since she had found herself waking up on
the floor of a Russian morgue, trying to adsorb what she'd discovered? That
somehow, her uncle, an American Navy pilot shot down over Vietnam in 1969, had
died and been buried in the middle of the Russian wilderness? Her mind couldn't
even begin to imagine the events that had brought him to the then-Soviet Union.
And if she guessed correctly, she didn't have time to.
The fact was, the Russians knew about the ring inscription, which meant
they knew that the remains belonged to an English speaker- possibly even an
American. Mercedes knew damn well that if that information reached the wrong
parties, her uncle's remains would simply vanish. She wasn't about to let that
happen; one way or another, Lt. Harmon Rabb Sr., USN, was coming home. If not
for his sake, then for her cousin's and aunt's.
Which was why she was back at JAG--- not that her cousin would see her.
He'd steadfastly refused any attempts she'd made to try to contact him, and to
explain and apologize for the previous debacle.
As she began collecting her things, CD reflected on that mess, and
reluctantly acknowledged that hindsight was, in addition to the cliché of being
20/20, a real pain in the ass. Yeah, that first day, she'd been caught
completely off guard and had lied to the Admiral out of reflex, if you could
call it that. But why she didn't fix it afterwards.....? She sighed. That was
the problem with doing stupid things. You usually only realized they were
stupid after it was too late to fix them without looking like a total moron.
With another sigh, Mercedes tucked the briefcase under her arm and climbed
out of the car. Things weren't going to get any better by sitting out here
dithering. And with the matter at hand, time was not something she had a lot
of.
Up in the bullpen, she scanned the offices. Some higher power must have
been smiling on her; her cousin's office was closed and empty. Finally, she
spotted her destination. Straightening her long skirt and severe jacket, she
took a deep breath and headed for Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie's office.
*****************
"Mic, how many times do I have to tell you? It's just not a good time
right now," Mac said wearily.
"When will be a good time, Sarah?" Mic shot back, his anger evident and
growing.
She was about to reply when there was a knock at the office door.
"Enter," she called, holding up a hand to silence Mic.
"Colonel MacKenzie?" Mercedes asked tentatively as she entered.
To say Mac was surprised was an understatement. She'd expected that at
some point she'd see Mercedes Rabb again, but not this soon, and certainly not
here at JAG. She looked over Harm's cousin, noting the sharply tailored black
suit with its unusual ankle-length skirt, the plain but clearly expensive gold
dress watch in place of the large chronograph she'd worn previously. Her hair
was pulled back into a smooth, flawless but severe chignon, which only
emphasized Mercedes's unusually pale and somewhat gaunt face. This was clearly
not a social call. "Investigator Rabb," she responded, not missing the surprise
on Mic's face.
"Forgive me," Mercedes began, "I didn't realize you were busy with another
appointment."
Mac cut her off politely. "I'm not. This is my fiancé, Mic Brumby.
Mic, this is Mercedes Rabb, a forensic specialist with the Virginia State
Investigative Bureau."
Mercedes politely extended a hand. "Mr. Brumby, it's a pleasure," she said
as blandly as possible. Something about the man wasn't sitting right with her,
even though she'd just met him.
"Miss Rabb," Mic returned, turning on the charm. Rather than return the
proffered handshake, Mic slowly took Mercedes's hand and kissed it.
For her part, Mercedes barely controlled the impulse to snatch back her
hand and wipe it off vigorously on her skirt. She hadn't missed Mic's blatant
ogling of her figure, nor the fact that his eyes were firmly locked on her chest
while he kissed her hand. The action made her skin crawl. Whatever Mac saw in
this guy, it must have been something completely different than what CD saw. Oh
well, some women thought this sort of thing was charming. Mercedes herself just
thought it was annoying and mildly sleazy.
She was so busy assessing the man she nearly missed his next comment.
"Rabb.... you wouldn't be related to Harm Rabb here, would you?
"He's my cousin," Mercedes answered distractedly. "Look,
Colonel, if you don't have time to talk, I can come back later." She glanced at
Mic. "I'm afraid that what I need to discuss with you must be done in private."
Mac could've kissed Mercedes Rabb; she'd been trying to get Mic to leave
for the better part of an hour. "No, no," Mac insisted, "Please, have a seat.
Mic was just leaving," she added pointedly. She didn't miss the irritated
scowl on his face as she said this.
Mercedes watched as Mic moved over to press a kiss to Mac's cheek, saying,
"We'll finish this later, luv," then took his leave.
Mac sat down, sighing, then looked at the other woman. "Sorry about
that."
"Nothing to apologize, for, Colonel. I'm just glad you're willing to see
me," Mercedes answered.
"Unlike your cousin," Mac replied wryly. "So what can I do for you,
Mercedes?"
Here goes nothing, CD thought. "I'm hoping you could put me in contact
with someone at the State Department. Someone you know and trust."
Mac was quiet for a bit. Of all the possible reasons for CD's appearance
she'd come up with, that hadn't been one of them. "May I ask why?"
"I.... I may have stumbled on to some information," CD replied uneasily.
How much should she tell her?
"What sort of information?" Mac asked, warning bells going off in her
head.
Damn. She should have known Mac wasn't going to just give her what she
needed and then turn a blind eye. Well, hell, Mercedes thought, might as well
go for broke. "Mac," she said quietly, "how much do you know about Harm's
father?"
Mac blinked. Again, of all the things she'd been imagining, that hadn't
been one of them. "A lot more than you might think," she responded equally
quietly. Time to put the cards on the table. "I think you'd better just tell
me what's going on, Mercedes."
CD took a deep breath. "All right, but I need to give you a bit of
background, so bear with me."
"I don't know if you know, but I got my degrees from the University of
Florida-- my undergrad in 1993, and my master's in '96. My master's and my main
undergrad field was forensic anthropology, and I spent a great deal of time in
the C. A. Pound Human Remains Identification Lab. Our main professor was one of
the top experts in the world. So in late 1992, he and several others were
called to Russia, Yekaterinburg in particular, to work on a very.... exclusive
case."
"Wait a minute," Mac interrupted. "Yekaterinburg? Wasn't that where
they found the remains of Tsar Nicholas II and his family?"
Mercedes nodded. "Exactly, and that's why we were there."
"We?"
"We. I was nearly done with my undergrad degree, having gone year-
round, and Dr. Beckham had already assured me I was going to be accepted to grad
school there. So he made one hell of an exception and allowed me to come along
as an assistant."
"Wow."
"Yeah. Anyway, while I was there, I made quite a few friends among the
local morgue staff. After we left, I still kept in touch, and continued to do
so. About a month ago, not too long after everything happened here," she said,
wincing slightly, "one of them contacted me. Seems he had a mysterious set of
remains found in the middle of nowhere by some mineral prospector. Asked if I'd
like to work on it, if I was available. Having just gotten a four-month
suspension from my job here, time was not an issue," she added dryly.
"Ouch. Four months?" Mac asked.
"Ummm-hmm."
"I see. So you went to Russia..." Mac prompted, a sickening, sinking
feeling in her stomach telling her where the story was leading, but at the same
time refusing to believe it.
"I went to Russia, got access, and started to work. Now, on a case like
this," Mercedes explained, "I always start off the same way. I take detailed
notes and measurements, lay out the remains in proper order, and run a DNA
sample. Since the DNA analysis processor had been shipped from the US, I ran a
sample of my own DNA through to check the calibration when I ran the unknown
sample."
CD paused, taking a deep breath. "Mac," she said in a voice so quiet it
was nearly a whisper, "the two samples were similar...too similar to be
anything but relatives."
"Oh my God." Mac couldn't believe what she was hearing. It just wasn't
possible...was it? This would destroy Harm.....
"I know. Even with that, though, I wasn't willing to believe I was looking
at my uncle. I mean, what on earth was he doing in Russia? Not possible,
right?" Mercedes added with a weak, mirthless laugh. "Then I asked Georgi-- the
friend who brought me there-- if there had been any effects found with the
remains."
Mac's face was now as white as Mercedes's. "Oh no. You found something
that confirmed it, didn't you?"
CD's answer was to open the case and remove a large photograph. The
quality was poor; it looked like it had been a much smaller picture that had
been enlarged and enhanced with a computer. "I couldn't take a good close-up of
just the ring; that would have been far too suspicious. But this is good
enough, and you can read the inscription."
Mac's eyes grew large as she took the photograph of the simple gold band,
reading the inscription. "Harmon & Patricia - Love Eternal," she whispered.
"Dear God."
"I'm sorry to drop this on you, Mac," CD added quietly. "But I was out of
ideas, and I've got to do something, and quickly. The minute the right people
over there realize what we've found, he's gone. And I can't let that happen. I
won't let it happen."
Swallowing, Mercedes leaned forward to look the stunned Marine straight in
the eye. "Help me bring him home, Mac. Please."
TBC....
***********************************************************************
AN: The C.A. Pound Human Remains Identification Laboratory is located in the
Florida Museum of Natural History on the University of Florida campus in
Gainesville, Florida, and is considered to be one of the best forensic labs in
the country, if not the world. Mercedes's "Dr. Beckham" is actually the lab's
former director, Dr. Wm. H. Maples, who was one of the few American scientists
involved in the identification of the Romanov remains found in Yekaterinburg
(aka Svedlosk), Russia in 1991. He also worked on many other high profile
cases, including the Gainesville student murders. Sadly, this brilliant man
died in 1997, but if interested, you can read about many of his cases in his
book, "Dead Men Do Tell Tales". I highly recommend it.
Layla, UF class of 1993 ;o)