The legalities and other niceties are in Chapter 1.
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26 March 2003
I wake up at 0430 feeling like a ten-ton truck is rolling over on itself inside my head; I must not have had a lot of deep sleep overnight. Dammit senses this; she's on the end of the bed studying me with her most timid, hangdog look and making no move for the leash that sits rolled in the chair beside my dresser.
"Another hour?" I ask her, and as though she understands, she closes her eyes and settles a bit on the comforter. I should have gotten a dog years ago.
Unfortunately, my body decides that it won't let me have another hour's worth of sleep; I'm up to take some aspirin ten minutes later and figure that I might as well go for a run and go to work early. Dammit obliges; we run the full five miles despite the cold because it isn't either raining or snowing for the first time in a week. My morning routine is blessedly uninterrupted and I am able to leave the house at 0640.
Traffic is light; I am the first to arrive in the office and can dismiss the overnight duty officer with a smile because I will get to make the first pot of coffee this morning.
SEAL coffee and Marine Corps coffee are one and the same; Jen Coates is learning but only Mac makes coffee as well as I do. Of course, we both drink it black – even Sturgis puts some cream and sugar in it. I've seen Harm dump half a bowl of sugar into Mac's coffee and even then make a horrid face. Wimps.
The coffee isn't done brewing when I turn the television on in my office. Stuart Dunstan's next piece on Mac is just starting as I sit down in one of the wingback chairs by the fireplace.
+++
"I'm Stuart Dunstan, embedded with elements of the First Marine Division inside Iraq. We're following one of the few female Marines currently on the ground inside the battle zones, Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie, a lawyer with the Navy's Judge Advocate General Corps. She's here on a mission which has been delayed due to the severe sandstorms and torrential rains that have wracked the area of the country her assignment will eventually take her to. In the mean time, Col. Mackenzie's previous experience as an intelligence officer on deployment in Bosnia has made her the ideal choice for her substitute mission: to take command of a forward observer post until the injured unit commander's replacement can be shipped in from his current assignment."
+++
Well, it isn't what I agreed to, but the exigencies of battle will change even the best-laid plans.
+++
"The primary mission of this observer post is what the military calls Bomb Damage Assessment, or BDA. Mackenzie and her crew of 11 men will use every resource available to them, including, you'll see in a moment, a harrowing trip into a bombed out area, to evaluate the effectiveness of coalition airstrikes and missile attacks from the ground while photoreconnaissance interpreters do the same with satellite and overflight imagery thousands of miles away in relative safety on Naval task force ships."
+++
There's a dig. "Relative safety" will make Dunstan friends in the Marine Corps, but the SecNav owns them too, and it won't earn the reporter any friends on the blue-suit side.
+++
"You're watching Col. Mackenzie and five men from the observer post as they move forward slowly in an armored personnel carrier toward the outskirts of an area heavily targeted for bombing in the past 24 hours."
+++
The next minute or two is unnarrated. Mac alternates between reading a map and directing the sergeant who is driving the APC. When small arms fire starts outside the cabin of the vehicle, the camera jerks a bit as the driver speeds up. Grenades land just feet in front of the APC before they explode.
I'm not at all surprised that Mac is so calm under fire; she earned a Bronze Star in Indonesia, after all. The driver, too, is calm, but behind the camera there's commotion I recognize as lot of very young new recruits under such close attack for the first time. These are the post 9/11 enlistees, no doubt.
"When we stop, I want as many of those shooters taken out as possible before we ever step foot outside this vehicle," Mac's no-nonsense command voice crackles through the uneven audio quality. "Gunner, your weapon is free."
The narration resumes in Dunstan's most controlled professional tone. "The top mounted swivel cannon is similar to the 25 millimeter cannon on a Bradley Fighting Vehicle. Colonel Mackenzie waited until her unit was clear of a small settlement before allowing return fire at what turned out to be three small Toyota pickups with bed-mounted RPG launchers. The gunner's aim proved true and the three trucks were destroyed, although not before one grenade blew the side-mounted radio communications panel out of commission. One young Marine sustained minor injuries that were later treated on-site."
Mac approaches Dunstan; true Marine that she is, the dirt and grime have only made her more alive.
"Colonel Mackenzie," Dunstan says as the "LIVE" logo appears in the corner of the screen, "not everyone will agree with your decision to hold fire until you were clear of the settlement. What do you say to them?"
"We're here because we volunteered to serve in the Marines, and that means we've taken the risk that we might get hurt or even killed doing so. The men who chose to come after us also knew the risks of combat, but the innocent civilians in that small settlement had no choice in whether the war came their way. I refuse to be party to the loss of innocent lives as long as I have acceptable options otherwise, which in this case I did."
+++
That's my Chief of Staff.
+++
"The words of a brave, capable Marine officer, Lt. Col. Sarah 'Mac' Mackenzie. This is Stuart Dunstan with the Second Marine Intelligence Battalion somewhere in Iraq. Any final thoughts, Colonel?" Dunstan is playing this up – he's hoping for THE look that will leave almost every man in America needing a cold shower. Or, knowing that Dunstan is a shrewd judge of character, he might be hoping for just the one sitting up near Union Station here in DC.
Not that I can ask, but I'd bet money he gets it with Mac's closing words and expression. "We're surviving, and we'll be okay when we get back."
We? Hmmm…
=====
Imagine my surprise when I finally log in to our intranet mid-morning to check my e-mail to find a note from Trish Burnett entitled "Next of Kin". I've met Harm's mother and stepfather a few times over the years and like them both very much, but other than the occasional emergency phone calls I've had to make when Harm's been missing or hurt, we haven't communicated outside of their visits.
Dear AJ, Trish wrote, My son, Harmon Rabb the Slower than Frozen Molasses, seems content to take his own sweet time coming to his senses. Therefore, Frank and I have adopted Sarah Mackenzie as our daughter. Obviously, we can't do this officially, but waiting for Harm to propose is getting old and we're ready to expand the family now. I'm guessing from the way that Mac talks about you when we talk – which is about once a week, believe it or not – that this adoption makes us family, as she thinks of you as at least another uncle, if not a father-figure. So, welcome to our extended family, Admiral.
She continued, On another note, Frank says to tell you that if you need to get an aircraft carrier anchor chain in a hurry, he knows some folks who can do a 48-hour turnaround. I'm not quite sure what he means by that, but somehow he thinks you will. Must be a male thing. Anyway, we're praying here for all of you, and you have my permission to restrain my son in any way you see fit to keep him from going after Mac against orders. See you soon!
I am laughing pretty hard by the time I finish reading the note a second time. I am not in the slightest bit surprised that Frank Burnett mentioned the anchor chain; after watching him interact with Harm for an hour the last time the couple visited, I realized that Frank and Mac are very much alike in both their ability to read Harm and in their sense of humor.
Nor, ultimately, am I surprised that the Burnetts decided to preempt Harm by "adopting" Mac. To my knowledge, they've never met her in person, but I know that Mac and Trish got close over the phone in the aftermath of my two officers' trip into Russia when both were worried about how Harm would deal with the truth of his father's life and death after his disappearance. I also heard the scuttlebutt that no one thinks I listen to about the dressing down Harm got when his mother found out Mac was engaged to another man.
That didn't stop the Burnetts from sending Mic and Mac a very nice wedding present; it was the only one I heard Mac express any regret whatsoever about returning. Then again, I think I'd be loath to return a check for $10,000, too. To my knowledge, Harm never found out about that.
Meanwhile, I sense that things are coming to a head between my Chief of Staff and my lead attorney. I can reassign Mac to the judiciary and then second her back the way Harriet is seconded from the Inspector General's office. Of course, technically the entire judiciary is seconded to JAG because it's commanded directly from the CNO's office and governed by the federal courts system – conflict of interest and all that. Be that as it may, it's convenient and it solves my biggest potential problem.
I'll take the problem if it will make Mac and Harm both happy at the same time.
=====
I can tell by the absence of activity when I come back into the bullpen from lunch that something is either happening or about to happen. I don't have to wait long before Harriet sees me and waves me over to her desk.
"Another segment on Colonel Mackenzie is coming up after the commercial, sir," she says to me.
I nod and decide to stay with my people rather than return to my office.
+++
"Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie is one tough Marine," Dunstan begins, and I see several people inhale sharply at his assertion. "Earlier today, she led a reconnaissance squad right up to an area that coalition forces have been bombing for the last 24 hours, searching for signs that the targets within the area have been destroyed. Here's what happened."
+++
Rabb's posture eases a little; he and I both know that she comes out okay at the end of this one.
+++
"About an hour ago, around 8 p.m. local time, this observation post at the edge of a coalition airstrike zone came under sustained small arms fire. Within moments, these Marines were returning fire, although several rocket-launched grenades did land within the small compound…"
+++
I thump down on the corner of Harriet's desk at the same time as Harm staggers for a chair that miraculously appears beneath him, thanks to Jen's quick thinking. I have the feeling that I'll be far more tender than he in a couple of hours.
+++
I watch, caught between pride and horror, as on the video Mac body slams three of her men away from a grenade as it lands where they had been standing a moment before. All four are slow to get up; Mac is bleeding from a cut on her cheek but all they pick up their various weapons and begin to return fire again.
The tape jumps and blurs for several seconds as the sound of an explosion obfuscates voices and gunfire. When the tape settles again, the cameraman follows Mac as she leads a charge in pursuit of about six men fleeing on foot through an open field; the cameraman focuses as best he can on the smoking wreckage of two civilian vehicles.
"These attackers, like the group earlier, arrived in civilian pickup trucks," Dunstan resumes. "At least two shoulder-mounted RPG launchers came into play, but effective targeting by the night-vision gear equipped Marines made quick work of the enemy. Two men suffered some bruising where bullets impacted their Kevlar vests and Lt. Col. Mackenzie has, as you could see in the video, a cut on her face and a slightly sprained wrist from her diving save of the three young corporals. All in all, this Marine unit was very lucky today. We're all hoping for a quiet night before we return to Qatar with the brave woman who has stepped into the combat zone with poise, strength, and grace under fire. She continues to say that she's surviving and will be okay when she returns home to Washington, and if I had to hazard a guess, to a very special man. Reporting from somewhere in Iraq, this is Stuart Dunstan, ZNN."
+++
I can't help the grin that is plastered on my face as I turn to look at Commander Rabb and begin to speak. "Let's hope Mr. Dunstan is right. Back to work, people."
I hear at least two different voices speaking to me, asking exactly the question I was hoping for. "About which part, sir?"
I look right at Harm and say in my most commanding voice, "Both of them." We are all rewarded with a blush on the commander's face that is as scarlet as the uniforms worn by The President's Own Marine Corps Band.
All things considered, today has been a good day.
=====
Well, it was until 20 minutes ago when ZNN showed bombs falling on Baghdad and I had to give Rabb a three-quarter inch advisory after he nearly took Harriet's head off for dropping a file and spilling its contents. Had Harriet not sucked it up and smiled her most forgiving smile at him, he'd have lost an inch of that rope then and there. He's already left the building.
If I can't work through the knot of worry in my gut, it sure as hell isn't worth asking anyone else who is close to Mac to work through whatever physical manifestation of worry plagues him or her; at this point, I think I'm closing the office at 1630 and dismissing the whole staff early.
Which means that I'll be able to fix dinner for Meredith and me tonight.
Which means that, all things considered, today has been a good day.
