Title: Back at the Beginning – Part 3
Author: Nan
Rating: R
Classification: vignette, Harm/Mac, AJ
Spoilers: All episodes up to but not including Fortunate Son from Season 8
Summary: AJ and Mac worry about Harm and his latest TAD
Harm had his eyes closed in the darkened cabin of the plane but he wasn't asleep. His knees were jammed against the seat in front and his head kept slipping between the backrest edge and the bulkhead of the plane. They were somewhere over the Pacific Ocean and would land in Honolulu in about two hours. Mac was beside him, quietly tapping at the keys of her laptop.
He had managed to doze for most of the trip. It was enough to take the edge off of his exhaustion but it was far from the deep sleep that he craved. He started thinking about Mac. It was hard for him to not think about her. She was in such close proximity despite his turned back.
Why did Chegwidden send Mac with him on this trip? He still couldn't figure this out. It was a usual trick of Chegwidden's to send a minder when he had doubts about an officer's ability to think or act rationally. In Harm's case, the admiral had sent Mac along as a minder in numerous situations. He had gone as far as sending Mac to Russia with him when Harm went on his quest to find his MIA father. He wondered how that adventure might have turned out if it wasn't for Mac. In truth, he may not have even been alive today.
But what was it about this mission that had both Mac and the admiral worried? Obviously, the CNO, the SecNav and the CAG on the Carl Vinson had no trouble with Harm's objectivity. In fact, they were sending him because of his ability to act rationally under a combat situation.
He knew that wasn't it. Chegwidden wasn't worried about his objectivity as a combat fighter. And even though Mac sometimes worried about his flying, he knew she knew that she had little to add that might improve his odds in that particular situation. He flexed his right leg and resettled in the seat, trying to ease the cramping.
"Harm?" Mac realized that Harm was awake.
"Yes, mother?" Harm rolled towards her in the seat.
"Funny. Did you manage to rest a bit?" said Mac.
"Yup,"
"Good."
Harm adjusted his position in the chair so he could see her face. "Mac?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you here?"
"I'm here to help you out."
"To help with any legal work? What legal work? I'm TDY to the flight wing, right? How are you going to help with that?"
"Maybe I'm here to help you get some sleep."
"Well, then turn off your light and stop tapping your fingers on that laptop." Harm smiled at her as she glanced over to him.
"Sorry. Am I keeping you awake?"
"Not really. What is Chegwidden worried about? I mean the CNO, the SecNav, and the CAG on the Carl Vinson are all convinced that I could handle this job. Not Chegwidden. He sends you along."
Mac studied him for a minute. "Do you mind?"
"Of course not, I always like having you around. But I don't think Chegwidden cares if I am lonely or not," said Harm.
Mac was silent. If Harm really knew what she and admiral were thinking, there would be trouble.
"Mac?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you and the admiral want me to give up my flight status?"
This time Mac shut her laptop and placed into her briefcase. She put up her tray table and turned to look at Harm. His eyes were on her.
"Mac? Is that what this is about? Me keeping my active status while working at JAG?"
"It's not what you think. I mean, hasn't the admiral always supported you in this? Providing opportunities to fly, adjusting schedules so that you can do your quals? I mean, he helped you change your designator when you went back to full flight status and took you back when that track dead-ended. You have to admit, not all CO's would be that understanding."
"I have always been grateful for his support. Even now, I don't think he wants me to end this, does he? There is something else."
"Harm, he is worried. So am I. By keeping your flight status, you are basically trying to hold down two jobs. Burning the candle at both ends. Flying fighters is one of the most dangerous occupations in the world. And there is also a wagon full of stress being a senior JAG. You have to wonder how this is all going to end."
"I am a good pilot. I'm not taking any undue risk."
"Yeah, but most of the men and women in this job are 15 years younger and do it full time. You are almost 40 and it is not even your day job. The CNO, SecNav and the CAG are going to use you to their advantage. And that also goes for PAX River and the air wings there. They don't see the toll it takes."
"I'm handling it okay."
"Yeah, so it seems. But even you are not Superman. You can only do so much and something has to give. You don't even have much of a personal life anymore. The events of 9/11 have just managed to wreck that completely. When you are not working, you are down to Pax River."
Harm managed to catch the tiniest bit of bitterness in that last statement. He felt guilty. Some of this was not just about his professional life. It was about them, their friendship and what it might be. But…. She was suggesting something he just couldn't face. He shut his eyes again.
"Okay, okay. I get the message. After this mission off the Vinson, I'll try and slow down some. Will that help?" He rolled his back away from her, signaling his desire to sleep again.
Mac mused. Well, that seemed to go okay. Better than what I thought might happen. After this mission? Harm, she thought, maybe this will be it and we won't get another chance.
#
Okay, now Mac was pretty sure the conversation had gone worse than her original estimate. Since that fateful discussion on the plane, Harm had gone out of his way to avoid her. Now since arriving on the Carl Vinson she was beginning to feel like a fifth wheel. All questions, orders and the like were directed to Harm and if he didn't want to let her in, it was hard to stay relevant. And he wasn't letting her in on anything.
More than that, Harm's every action seem to be directly aimed towards refuting the idea that he was over-extended. Instead of being tired and slow after three transoceanic crossings, he was energetic and plunged into every request with vigor. He held a briefing on the final version of the ROE's and was now preparing with the other flight crews for the mission under the guise of a training exercise.
Now what? She made her way towards the flight ready room looking for Harm. At the very least, she could wish him luck. This wasn't the time to dredge up the issue of his flight status. Just concentrate on this one Harm, and we can sort this out at a later date.
She saw him across the room. Mac walked towards him as he was putting on his flight gear. "Harm?"
"Mac. Hi."
"Just wanted to wish you luck. Be safe up there, flyboy." It was then that she noticed that his color seemed a bit high.
"I always play it safe, Mac. Quit worrying." His voice had a sharp edge.
"Are you okay?"
"Of course. Why would you think not?" He shot her a quick look.
"No reason, I guess. See you when you get back, Harm."
"You can count on it, Mac." And with that he left, leaving her to wander up to the bridge to wait out news of the operation.
#
True to expectations, two MIGs were waiting for the RC-135S reconnaissance plane within minutes of beginning it's run down the North Korean coast. The EC-2 Hawkeye overseeing the training exercise relayed the coordinates over to the waiting fighter squadrons.
Both the Pentagon and the CAG on the Vinson agreed that they would match force with force equally. No overwhelming threat. Two MIGs meant two F-14s. Harm and his wingman were dispatched to exchange greetings with the unwelcome visitors.
Their plan was to distract then lead the MIGs away from the RC-135S. Intel said that the North Koreans had no facilities for aerial refueling, so if they played the game right, the MIGs would eventually find themselves at bingo fuel and bug out for home. But for now, it was Harm's job to assess how aggressive the MIGs intended to be. Their first encounter would tell much.
Harm climbed to 30000 feet and pressed his mike.
"Cobra Ball, Cobra Ball, this is Tag Team One. I hear you need a bit of help with some unwelcome visitors?"
"That's a roger, Tag Team One. Hope you can help."
"Tally-ho, Cobra Ball. Our ETA is less than two minutes."
Mac listened to their conversation in the dim light of Combat Information Center. She tried to visualize what was going on. The deadly calm of Harm's voice was something she recognized and she knew he was concentrating completely on the task.
"Bogeys in sight, Cobra Ball. Maintain course and heading. We will do the rest."
"Affirmative, Tag Team One. Good luck."
The tension in the Pri-Fly was thick. Radar displays coupled with the radio feedback helped to paint a picture of the scenario unfolding.
The MIGs immediately responded to the presence of the American fighter jets. Harm and his wingman occupied the two jets with dog fighting maneuvers intended to distract the aircraft from the intended mission.
As Harm pulled a 5 G turn to catch up with his intended target, he heard the voice of his RIO in his ear.
"Hammer, I've got a pop-up. My guess is that we have company. One, no, two Bogeys lower and coming straight toward us. Climbing to join in the fun."
"City Desk, City Desk. This is Tag Team One. We may need a little help here."
"Already dispatched, Hammer. ETA is 6 minutes. Hold on till then."
Harm noted with satisfaction that the modified Boeing 707 RC-135S was moving steadily away from the action. It able to continue its surveillance run of the Korean Peninsula. He was beginning to be increasingly convinced the MIGs wouldn't go to guns. If they intended to, there had already been plenty of opportunity.
So now it was a time game. Keep them occupied until fuel became an issue. He decided to try and lead them further away from the coast. Let's see how long their legs are. The additional F-14s should be here any minute.
#
Harm popped the canopy of his F-14. He felt totally spent as he slowly unbuckled himself from the cockpit of the fighter. He was thankful he managed to catch the three wire on the first pass. It certainly wasn't a pretty landing but he didn't have the energy for a second attempt. He managed to mumble a few words to his RIO as he dragged himself to a standing position. Wow, he felt like hell. Something was not right. This wasn't the first time he had been in a dogfight and it certainly wasn't the worst. Just get through the debriefing, Hammer, then crash on the nearest rack.
As he climbed down the ladder to the carrier deck, his head started to spin. In a detached fashion, he realized that the steel top of the carrier was coming up to meet him. Then blackness followed.
