Chapter 11

1130 ZULU

31 March 2003

Elizabeth Perkins is at her desk by 6:30 a.m. Her exit from Porter Webb's before five that morning had been accomplished by hiding on the floor of Porter's Mercedes as Porter left for the gym. Betsy had slept little; the surreal nature of the previous night's events had left her too excited to sleep. Webb had crashed after their lovemaking. Perkins stifles a giggle in thinking about how easily she was able to slip out of the bed and the room without waking him. She sits staring at the computer and composes the letter of resignation which she knows she must write. She decides to address it to the Deputy Director of Support Staff and copy Webb rather than vice versa.

'Dear Sir:

My six years of service for the Agency have been among the most challenging and professionally rewarding of my life. The opportunity to serve my country at this point in history is unparalleled. That being said, I must resign my position as Assistant to Deputy Director Webb for personal reasons. These same personal reasons preclude my working out a notice; I realize that my inability to work out a notice seems to belie my appreciation for my opportunities here, but, in time, I am sure that you will agree that my immediate withdrawal from the office environment is the best scenario for all parties.

Should the Agency have any questions regarding open cases that I may have worked on, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Very truly yours,

Elizabeth Perkins Assistant to the Deputy Director of Southwest Asia Operations

cc: Clayton Webb, Deputy Director of Southwest Asia Operations'

Elizabeth prints two copies, signs them, places one copy on Webb's desk in his "in" basket, and places the other in the inner office mail slot to the DDSS. She then unplugs the tower of her computer, detaches the monitor, speakers, and printer, and lugs the tower into Webb's office and places it into his safe. She locks the safe and pockets Clay's keys. She grabs what few personal items she keeps in one drawer and stuffs these into her purse. She leaves the office at 6:55 a.m., nodding to the night watchman.

"Miss Perkins, I thought you came in early to work," he ponders.

"Oh, Eddie, I have a dentist appointment at 7:15 and needed to finish a letter before Mr. Webb came in," Elizabeth answers.

"That Webb is a slave-driver isn't he?" comments Eddie.

"You have no idea, Eddie. You should have seen how he kept me up last night!" Elizabeth laughed, giddy with the fact that her days of hiding the relationship were almost over.

She runs to her car, drives to the dentist's office for her cleaning, and is back at her parent's home by 8:30 a.m. She and her parents sit talking quietly at their dining room table about the upcoming events of the next few days.

"Betsy, can't we have longer to plan a wedding? What about our friends and relatives?" complains Eleanor.

Wayne comforts his wife, "El, we've known for years that our girl has chosen a dangerous line of work. I'm afraid we'll have to be thankful that we can be there and so can Caroline. She could have just waited and been married in Basra or Baghdad."

"Wayne, who would have married them there? A Muslim cleric?" Eleanor holds her head in her hands. "Betsy, are you really sure you want to marry this man? Your head isn't turned because of the danger, the fact that he's your boss, and the fact that his family is filthy rich, are you?"

"Eleanor! I told you that this Clay is a decent man. He sought me out to ask my permission to marry Betsy. He laid it all out on the line to me. He'll give his life to protect her, I'm sure of that."

"Mom, I love Clay. You will too once you get to know him." Betsy reassures her mother.

"Oh great, my son-in-law the spook!" Eleanor grimaces. "Betsy, I'm not saying that it's not beautiful, but don't you think that ring is a little, well, ostentatious?"

"No, Mom, I think it shows that a forty-two year old man from a wealthy family chose an engagement ring. He wanted something unique and he was prepared to spend plenty of money on it. Let me just say this: if I hadn't resigned my job this morning, it wouldn't take too much brain power around the break room to figure out who, in my acquaintance, could possibly afford this ring. That's probably why Clay insisted that I resign. Mom, we're due at Porter Webb's this morning at eleven. Do you think you can do this with me?"

"I won't shame you, Elizabeth, I've just been trying to get used to the idea here." 1200 ZULU Scotland

Harmon Rabb, Jr. lies on the leather sofa in the library with his back propped against a seated Sarah Rabb. Both Rabbs are engrossed in books and absentmindedly feed themselves and each other from a bowl of grapes on the sofa table behind them. Mac reaches the end of a chapter, marks her place, and closes her book. She lightly traces her index finger down Harm's neck to his chest and places her palm there.

"Mmmm, I thought you wanted to read for awhile," Harm moans.

"I'm getting hungry."

"You want me to clean those strawberries?" Harm suggests.

"Harm, fruit is great, but it does not fill me up. I need meat." Mac demands.

"Well, you insisted that I find something to read and I did. These Churchill military history books are fascinating. I thought we could just keep reading and snacking since it's so cold and rainy outside. If you're hungry though, I'll go fix you something to eat."

"Harm, you don't have to keep cooking for me like a little haus frau," teased Mac.

"Even though that's what I am?" Harm shot back.

"I'd just like to go to town and get some fish and chips."

"That does sound good. I'd like a good pint of ale to wash it down," Harm smacks his lips. "I did see a motorcycle in the garage. Care to take a ride?"

"Can I drive?"

"Absolutely not. I'm pretty open-minded about things, Mac, but I will not be seen riding behind a woman on a motorcycle. It's just not manly."

"Would you fly RIO for a woman pilot?"

"Only if she outranked me."

"I do."

"By two months, Mac. I'm going to make that up and more the first time you take a maternity leave. By the time you take the next five maternity leaves, I'll be a captain before you're a full bird."

"Keep repeating that, Harm, eventually you'll believe it. You'll have been in trouble with the Admiral at least a dozen times before then."

"Sarah?"

"Yes, Harm?"

"Do you think we've been successful yet? I mean in the 'continuing the Rabb family name' department."

"Harm, I don't know. If we haven't been, it certainly won't be from lack of trying. I'm not going to obsess about it like you are though."

"Obsess? Do you think I obsess? I think I'm 'goal-oriented'"

"I think you're nuts. I'm finding a slicker and we're going to get some food."

"Do you think we should disguise ourselves? Webb might get mad if he finds out we went to town."

"We need a few groceries anyway. There's no chocolate in this house. Do you think they have M&M's in Scotland?"

"I can't believe you, Mac. Junk food? Is that all you think about?"

"You're right, Harm. Out of respect for you and your strong conviction about health food, I'm going to modify my snacking habits."

"Glad to see your coming around, Mac."

"Yep, I'm replacing plain M&M's with peanut M&M's." Mac calls over her shoulder as she races out the door. Harm grabs his jacket and gives chase.

1200 ZULU

JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA

Clayton Webb leans over the shoulder of Meredith Cavanaugh as she looks through a stack of pictures. She separates two from the pile and scans them more thoroughly. "I believe that the man I saw is this one, pointing at a photo. It's difficult to say since he was wearing a wig. It's too bad that you don't have pictures of their hands; I studied his hands rather closely."

"Hands?" Webb asks in surprise.

"Oh, I've always thought that you could tell a great deal by looking at a man's hands."

Behind her, AJ Chegwidden rolls his eyes.

"AJ's hands are so strong and firm, indicating that"

"Indicating that we don't have all day, Meredith," AJ cuts her off.

Meredith continues undeterred, "As I was saying, Commander Rabb's fingernails are always expertly trimmed, never a hanging cuticle. And you, Mr. Webb, I've noticed that you get a manicure."

"Er, well, sometimes." Webb responds as the Admiral folds his arms over his chest.

Admiral Chegwidden suggests, "Let's get Gunny, Tiner, and Coates in here to see if they can identify the man."

"AJ, please, I have not finished yet with my hands theory. This man had hairy knuckles and bit his nails."

"So that makes him, what Meredith? A high strung Neanderthal?

"Do they admit them to the University of Virginia?"

"I don't know, what does that have to do with ANYTHING we're doing here?"

"Oh, because that's where his class ring was from, UVA."

"What? Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" Webb squeals.

"You didn't ask." Meredith spits.

Excitement creeps into Webb's voice, "Well, I know who that one was, that idiot John Bell. He's a UVA grad and that's the picture you chose, Meredith. Good work. Thank you."

"I'm happy to help my country."

"Meredith, perhaps Webb could get you a job with the CIA's phalanges corps. You could specialize in digital work." AJ and Webb share a laugh as Meredith ignores them.

Webb stops laughing long enough to ask AJ to send for Bud and Harriet. Meredith stands and says, "I have a nine-thirty Tragedies class. I'll see you for dinner," she brushes AJ's lips with a kiss and leaves as Bud and Harriet enter. They exchange greetings and stand before the Admiral.

"Webb has some pictures for you to look at, to see if you can identify the man who was spying on his mother's house last night," the Admiral blurts.

"Harriet got a better look than I, sir," Bud comments.

"Let me see the pictures, Mr. Webb," Harriet smiles.

"Harriet, I think you really ought to call me something other than Mr. Webb, Clay or Webb, or something, "

"Oh, I'll have to think about that, Mr. Webb," Harriet states.

"It's just that I'd like you and Bud to come to my mother's house on Friday night for dinner, and Mr. Webb seems a little formal for a wedding guest to call the groom," Webb mentions.

"Wedding? Another wedding? Who this time? You, Mr. Webb?" Harriet begins dancing around the room.

"Whom are you marrying, sir?" asks a perplexed Bud.

"I'll bet it was that stunning blonde that you brought to Harm and Mac's wedding, isn't it? I saw the way you looked at her when you were dancing," taunted Harriet.

"Her name is Elizabeth Perkins, and, yes, she's the bride. You'll have to keep it quiet though until next week. Just act like you're a dinner guest on Friday night. You and Meredith too, AJ. Mention it to Sturgis, but tell him to ask Bobbi in person, not on the phone. Capital Hill can keep no secrets." Webb lectures.

"Bud, can I get a new dress? Oh, we'll discuss that later. Let me see the pictures." Harriet begins to flip through the photos. "This one," she declares.

"Are you sure?" asks Webb.

"Positive. Is he a drinker?"

"Can be. He's also supposed to be one of my most trusted underlings. Why did you ask about being a drinker?" Webb mutters.

"His breath smelled like booze and I thought I saw the outline of a flask underneath his coveralls. Who is he?"

"Joe Ford. I'll have to tell Mother we'll be having one less for dinner on Friday," Webb muses.

Admiral Chegwidden rises from behind his desk and says, "Thank you Lt. Roberts and Lt. Sims. That will be all,"

"Yes, sir," they snap in unison, spin in an 'about face', and leave the office.

"So Webb, I take it that your mission was a success last night based on your invitation for Friday night," the Admiral inquires.

Webb paces for a few minutes before he answers, "It was touch and go for a few minutes, but then my mother convinced Betsy that giving up her job did not mean that she had to join the Garden Club and take up knitting. She will actually get to see more action with me in Iraq than she would have sitting at a desk in Washington."

"You did say that the Company sent her to South America," AJ notes.

"They did. It was courier work; any number of people could have done it. I think she missed me," Clay confides.

"You certainly don't lack confidence, Webb," Chegwidden chuckles.

Webb's face takes on a guileless look, "I do think she missed me, I mean working for me. She was assigned to Carly Marsich, another Deputy Director. Carly can be pretty rough on other women. She has a bit of a chip on her shoulder and doesn't mind pounding others with it. What happened once she got to South America surprised Betsy as much as it did me. "

"How did you get her back working for you if she had been assigned to someone else?" AJ wonders.

"Well, once I spent my time in Purgatory and cleaned up some nasty drug operations down there, the Director decided that he was wasting my talent chasing drug lords, so I was brought back to Washington. Arrogant chap that I am, I immediately began making demands, and Betsy was one of my demands. Carly was not happy that I got what I wanted.

"Were there repercussions?"

"None that I couldn't handle. Carly is one of those people who has advanced as far as her talents take her but hasn't realized it yet. She's also very fond of me, so I just used my charm and charisma to get Betsy back."

"Might she be behind your recent trouble at the agency?"

"Carly? Absolutely not. At one time, she had a thing for me, but we've forged a friendship instead. She realizes the kind of wife I want and knows that she's not it. I really trust her, AJ."

"Have you gone to her for help in this matter?"

"No, but not because I don't trust her. I just don't know who's reading her emails, if you know what I mean."

"Well, Webb, I have a videoconferencing call with the NAVCOM in a half- hour, so if you'll excuse me."

"I was just leaving, Admiral."

1400 ZULU

Scotland

Harm and Mac are sitting on the floor of the library facing a roaring fire. The telephone on the table begins to ring. They exchange looks as if to ask which one should answer the call.

"Well?" asks Mac.

"Why do I need to answer? Webb probably found out that we went to town! Hello?" Harm answers.

"Why Clayton, we were just speaking of you," Rabb rolls his eyes as Mac stifles a giggle.

"I see. When did all this happen? Well, good for you. Well, I've found it to be a profitable situation in my vast experience."

Mac is perplexed. Harm covers the phone and whispers, "Webb is getting married."

Mac's jaw drops.

"Well, I'm sorry we'll miss it. Kiss the bride for me. I'll do that, Clay. Okay. Webb, c'mon, we just wanted to have some food and get out of the house for awhile. All we saw were Scottish fisherman. We needed to get milk anyway. Lighten up, Webb. Okay, we'll see you and Betsy on Saturday then. When do we leave? Really? I could cook, if you wanted to stay with us here at the Honeymoon Hotel."

Mac makes another face.

"Okay, then. Good luck on Friday. Give Betsy our best wishes. Bye."

Mac immediately fires questions at Harm, "When is Webb getting married?"

"Friday night."

"And you invited him to spend the night here on Saturday night?"

"Well, I thought it was the hospitable thing to offer. I didn't think he'd accept, but he did, which was really weird. The pilot will need to refuel and not exceed his flying hours, so we're not leaving until Sunday. I thought it'd be nice to cook some dinner. I really assumed that they'd stay in a hotel, but he accepted the dinner invitation and then seemed grateful for the invitation to spend the night. This is totally bizarre. Who would have thought that we would get married only six days before Webb?"

"He did catch the garter. Maybe you inspired him."

"I don't think so, Mac. There's more to this story than he's saying."

"Do you think that the marriage is a ruse?"

"I don't know. I'll bet I know someone who does though, the Admiral."

"You can't call him, Harm. Webb said he could call us, but that we couldn't call out."

"It'd be my luck that he'd find out too. Do you know that he knew we ate in town today? It gives me the creeps to think how closely we're watched."

"I know. Do you think that Iraq will be this bad?"

"I'm afraid it will be worse."

"Do you regret taking this mission, Harm?"

Harm cocks his head and looks at her before answering, "Mac, this mission was the impetus I needed to get my head out of my six and ask you to marry me. I have not regretted one single day since I made that decision. The thought of being stalked hasn't been too much fun and neither was that bump I took on the head. Of course, my wife has been kissing it and making it all better," Harm flashes her his irresistible grin.

"Does it hurt now?"

"I think so."

"Where?"

"I'll have to show you," Harm explains.

1800 ZULU Russian Consulate New York

Alex sits in an empty conference room bent over a stack of forms. He finds himself thinking that he could use a cigarette about now, but stifles the urge. He's been six months without a cigarette, now is not the time to blow it. He looks up when the door opens and a man enters.

"Hello Kristoff," Alex states.

Boris Kristoff walks into the room and sits across the table from Alex. "I heard you were here. What is it that you want?"

"I want an assignment that keeps me in the United States, " Alex explains.

"To spy for your American friends?"

"If I were going to spy, I'd be in Russia getting information that they wanted. I asked to be assigned here," Alex states.

"Good answer, Alex. We've seen the girl. You have good taste,"

"You have been following me?"

"It's a throwback from the Cold War days. We follow most of our citizens to make sure they don't defect. Don't take it personally," Boris lectures. "Although your woman is the daughter of the American Naval JAG, she is apolitical. She's more familiar with Italian politics than American."

"Glad to know that the KGB approves" Alex quips.

"We're no longer KGB, we're"

"The same pain in the neck," Alex interrupts. "Can I finish these forms now? The bureaucracy will probably take weeks to process them."

Boris smiles. "Alex, I'm here to tell you that you will be assigned to our embassy in Washington. You will accompany our diplomatic corps whenever they have UN functions, so you will be in New York often. I think you will find the pay increase helpful as well. We don't expect our diplomats to live as paupers when they are in foreign countries."

Alex suppresses a smile. "I look forward to serving Mother Russia."

Boris shakes his hand, "Remember that we are watching you. Falling in love with a girl is one thing. Entertaining offers from the American CIA is quite another." With that, Boris exits the room.

Alex sits down and sighs. He completes the next form with renewed energy.

1 April 2003

Clayton Webb sits in the office of Daniel Simpson, his immediate superior. Webber sits behind his desk facing Webb.

"Look, Clay, I'm really sorry this happened, but I can't let you near Ford or Bell until they've talked to counsel. Furthermore, you are too close and too emotionally involved with this investigation. You need to trust the system to do its job. You've done a great job of uncovering these guys. Let me handle it from here."

"Is that an order?"

"Right now it's a request. If you defy me on this, you'll be getting another assignment to South America or worse."

"What's worse?"

"I could send you to Canada to watch the Border Patrol."

"Point made."

"You need to spend the next few days getting up to speed on Iraq. Your plane leaves on Saturday morning at 6:00 a.m. Do you need anything else for the trip?"

"I'll be taking a passenger with me. We'll need an apartment in Basra, preferably close to where Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie will be living."

"We have a building with two apartments. I thought we'd just keep one for visitors. Who's the passenger you're taking?"

"My wife."

"Clay, you're not married."

"I will be by Saturday morning."

"Who's the girl and when's the wedding?"

"Elizabeth Perkins and the time is classified."

Webber pauses and stares at Webb. "Do you mean to tell me that you've been dating someone who reports to you? Did you have no concept of allegations of sexual harassment? To what potential lawsuits have you possibly exposed the Company, Webb?"

Webb raises his eyes to meet the gaze of his boss. "First of all, I have not been sexually harassing my assistant. Secondly, the entire relationship has been one of relatively short duration. When we realized the intensity of our feelings, Elizabeth resigned so that she no longer works for me."

"Do you realize what Carly Marsich is going to say when she hears this? She was so angry when she lost Perkins to you when you got back from Paraguay. I can't believe this, Webb. All these years you've been with the Company and there's never been a hint of impropriety with you and a woman, and now this."

"Do you want Betsy to sign an affidavit that I never coerced "favors" from her? I am marrying her, Daniel. She's left employment with the Company. End of story. I don't care what Carly or anyone else, for that matter, thinks. Nobody will even know that we're married until Tuesday's society column in the Post breaks unless you decide to tell someone. We'll be in Iraq for six months to a year. That should let things die down around here. If you've said all you need to say, I have work to do."

"Clay, I'm sorry. You have done the right thing. You're getting married, not just continuing an affair. It's not like you two are carrying on in the office. I just have seen too much jealousy of you from among your peers. I guess I was overreacting to what I'm going to have to deal with."

"If you ask me, Daniel, you'd better start your investigation on Ford and Bell with those very same jealous peers of mine. Those two boneheads did not act on their own authority; somebody higher up is pulling their strings. You'd better put your thinking cap on."

"I know. My problem is that I have no idea who to trust. It's been years since I actually ran an investigation - I manage people now."

"Call in somebody from Homeland Security."

"That's an idea. I have a meeting up there with Undersecretary Hutchinson this afternoon. He may have someone he could spring loose until we find the "problem child" in our own home. By the way, am I invited to the wedding?"

"Sorry. It's going to be a very private affair. I think I'm giving everyone here a bye on the event. We've had too many security breaches lately. I will be working from home tomorrow and Friday. You can reach me there."

"Good luck, Clay, on your marriage and in Iraq. I'll keep you posted on our progress here."

Clay leaves Simpson's office, walks out of the building, and jumps into his car. Presentiments of danger oppress his mind. He forces himself to push the nagging premonitions from his mind as he drives to Maryland.

3 APRIL 2003

0500 ZULU

Scotland

"You awake?" Harm's sleepy voice penetrates the darkness of the room as the morning skies begin to lighten.

"Habit, I guess," Sarah Rabb snuggles into her husband's side and places her head on his shoulder and he extends his arm to pull her closer to him.

"Is something on your mind?" he queries.

"I was just thinking that today is our last day alone together," she mentions.

"So, is there anything special that you have in mind?" he suggests.

"Do you think it's normal to never want your honeymoon to end?"

"When you're married to someone as wonderful as you are, it's perfectly normal."

"Excuse me?"

"Just making sure that you're really awake," Harm laughs. "I plan to have a honeymoon with you for the next fifty years, Mac."

"You'll be eighty-nine and toothless in fifty years,"

"I'll pin gold wings on my white jammies and take you flying in my wheelchair."

"You'll be an arrogant octogenarian, won't you?"

"Confident, not arrogant. People who can't deliver are arrogant. Aviators that deliver every day are just confident"

"What are eighty-five year old retired Marines?"

"Well, if they happened to be married to retired Naval Aviators turned JAGs, they are VSOB's."

"I can't wait to hear the explanation of that acronym."

"Very Sexy Old Broads."

Mac giggles. "You feel like running this morning? I feel like we haven't gotten much exercise this week."

"Well, that depends on your definition of exercise, but I could go for a light run, say seven miles?"

"That's all?"

"I just want to take it easy on the weaker sex,"

"Why don't we make it an even ten? Winner showers first. Loser makes breakfast."

"You're on, but winner and loser shower together," Harm quips swatting her behind as he follows her out of bed.

1000 ZULU

Porter Webb's Home

A phone rings in a darkened room. "Webb," answers a sleepy voice. An arm reaches its hand out to turn on the lamp on the bedside table and Clayton Webb sits up against the pillow. Elizabeth Perkins pushes her hair from her face and eyes Webb as he sits in stunned silence. Webb sits in perplexed silence until he finally speaks, "No, I'm still here. I'm just processing what you've just said, Daniel." He listens for a few more minutes before speaking in exasperation.

"You told me yesterday to stay out of it, that I was too emotionally involved, to trust you. You said you'd bring in some outsiders from Homeland Security or from the FBI or somewhere. Now you're calling me and telling me that Ford and Bell are both dead. Nobody saw them get shot? You are unbelievable, Daniel. Now I'm going to tell you what's up. You are going to post so much security around this house that it's going to look like an armed fortress. Cancel the Agency pilots for Saturday; get the SecNav on the phone and we'll have the Navy fly us. You have a serious problem within the Company, Daniel. You and the Director need to clean up your department or you're both going to be joining the unemployed lines. I'll call you later. Are you even certain you have a secure phone line? Okay, fine. Yep."

Clayton slams the phone down on to its base.

Betsy arranges her pillows as a backrest against the headboard before asking the inevitable question, "What happened?"

Webb inhales deeply and exhales slowly. He reaches for her with his left arm and pulls her to him. She shifts her weight and rolls, so that her back rests against his torso. He pulls his knees up so that her head rests against them and they speak face to face.

"Webber didn't want me involved with Ford and Bell. They took them into custody yesterday afternoon. Ford was in an interrogation room waiting for his lawyer. When the guard opened the door to let the lawyer in, Ford was slumped over the table. Somebody had put a .45 in the back of his head. The security tapes had been scrambled; nobody saw a thing."

"What happened to Bell?"

"He was being moved from the jail to appear before a federal judge. As they walked him from the van into the courthouse, a sniper shot him in the head. The guards didn't even hear the shot. He just slumped as they were escorting him. They think the shooter used a silencer."

"Sounds as if both were professional jobs."

"Sounds like our own people. I can't trust Agency people in Washington. There's something kooky going on," Webb confides as he absentmindedly kisses Betsy's forehead. "Bets, we're going to have to move your parents and sister here until after the wedding. You need to call them soon."

"Okay. Why did you change our travel plans?"

"I'm calling AJ as soon as I think he's awake. I trust him. I trust the military. I just am not sure that I can trust the intel community."

"Will we be safe in Iraq or is this person going to follow us there too?"

"Americans entering Iraq will be more conspicuous than they are in DC, Betsy."

"I'm starting to feel scared, Clay."

"Don't you think I can protect you?"

"I'm more worried for my family. Who's going to protect my parents?"

"I doubt that they'd be at risk. You are because of your connection to me. Hurting you would hurt me. Hurting your parents would hurt you, which would hurt me, but now we're starting to get fairly far down the line. Do you understand?"

"Why were they after Harm?"

"I've used Harm and Mac on a number of missions over the years. This operative knows that we've become friends. Harm's probably the closest thing to a male friend that I have, except for AJ."

"So is AJ at risk?"

"AJ has kept a much lower profile than Rabb. I bought Rabb's brother's release from a Chechnyan prison. Our connection is known. AJ's role, to the outside observer, is as a reluctant commanding officer. AJ is a hard person to know, especially if you're on the outside. He's fairly close to his people, but except for a few Navy peers and some old Seals, he's a closed book."

"Enough of this cloak and dagger stuff. Let's talk about the wedding."

"I'm sorry that I am denying you the fairy tale wedding, Betsy."

"Fairy tale? What do you mean?"

"Big church wedding. A thousand intimate guests," Webb jokes.

"This is fine, Clay. I always wanted a small wedding. I never dreamed it would be in a mansion with an orchestra, but it's fine with me. You can make up for it when our daughters get married. You can hire the National Cathedral and the Marine band."

"If that's what their mother wants, that's what she'll get. How many daughters do I get?"

"Depends," she teases.

"Upon what?"

"How well you do with diapers, potty training, terrible twos, and tiresome threes," she retorts.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Clayton."

"How do you feel about only children?"

"You tell me. You're an only child."

"I wonder if my father didn't like changing diapers?"

"Clay, I need to leave this room. It's bad luck for a groom to see the bride on the wedding day. Officially, our wedding day is here. I don't want to tempt fate," Elizabeth smiles at Clay.

"Betsy, for crying out loud, we're in the same house. We'll be surrounded by security. Where am I supposed to go so I can't see you? That reminds me, what am I going to do today? I can't go anywhere. This is a mess."

"Go work out in the home gym. Take a swim. Pack your suitcase. Read a book on becoming a good husband. Get a haircut."

"I'm going to my mother's office. I'll see what I can figure out from her computer. She's got top security clearances. As for you, the next time I see you-"

"I'll be on my father's arm. I'll be the one in white."

"I'll be the guy who can't breathe because you are so beautiful," he replies wistfully.

"You'd better breathe. Only one of us has a job now. You're supposed to support me and protect me. Now kiss me and tell me good-bye for a few hours," Elizabeth orders as she shrugs into the robe of her white peignoir.

Clay steps out of bed wearing his black silk boxers. He takes Elizabeth into his arms. His hands glide up her arms, along the sides of her neck, and rest as they cup the sides of her face. "Thank you for loving me. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you for teaching me to love," Clay whispers before kissing her. "Go, gather ye rosebuds-"

"Clay, I told you. That's a sad poem. It's about death! Read some Shakespeare while you're looking for things to do today. Your family probably has a first edition in that library,"

"Betsy, if you want to get out of here before noon, you'd better go now," Clay winks.

"Bye, darling," Elizabeth sighs.

1300 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

AJ Chegwidden sits at his desk with his reading glasses perched on his nose. His intercom buzzes and Tiner's voice crackles, "Admiral, your daughter is on line 4."

"Put her through, Tiner. When I'm finished, please send Lt. Roberts and Cmdr. Sturgis in to see me."

"Yes, sir."

AJ picks up the phone and barks, "Chegwidden."

"I'll try that again, Francesca. Hello, darling. How's my favorite daughter today?"

He pauses to listen to the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Well, Francesca. I'm surprised, but not terribly so. Alex is a determined young man. You are obviously at the center of his determination. I don't think it's a bad thing, necessarily, that he will be in Washington most of his time. Francesca, just how serious is this relationship becoming?"

He begins listening again, frowning. "Francesca, you're a grown woman, you don't have to tell me those details, I certainly didn't expect -"

He slumps down in his chair, pressing the receiver against his ear, but stares up at the ceiling.

"Well, where's he going to live in D.C.? What about Harm's apartment? The Commander and the Colonel will be gone for at least six months. Rabb might be happy to have someone there. If someone else needs it on a temporary basis, Alex can stay with me."

He listens again. "Okay, you do need to tell me when you're taking him to Italy to meet your mother. You can't leave her out of this indefinitely."

Finally, AJ sighs. "Okay. I'll see you in two weeks. Tell Alex to come by on Monday. I'll have a chat with Rabb in the meantime and we'll see if we can't find him a home. I love you too. Bye."

Chegwidden slams the phone down, shakes his head, and chuckles. He glances at his watch to time how long it will take for Roberts and Turner to report to his office. After precisely one minute and fifteen seconds, Tiner knocks and announces.

Roberts and Turner march into the office and snap to attention in front of the Admiral's desk.

"At ease. Take a seat. With regard to attire for this evening," the Admiral begins.

"Dress whites, sir?" Bud offers.

"I think so, Roberts. Commander?"

"Dress whites." Sturgis pronounces.

"And the ladies?" Chegwidden queries.

"Formal, sir. Harriet will not be wearing her dress uniform though."

"I agree. Bud, you're dismissed. Sturgis, can you stay a minute?" Admiral Chegwidden asks.

Bud leaves the office and Sturgis remains seated.

AJ begins to make small talk. "Are you taking Bobbi tonight?"

"I am, sir, but we're going more as friends."

"I thought that there was more there."

"There was, sir, but we weren't seeing the future in the same light."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that I don't want to retire from the Navy and be her Chief of Staff. Meaning that she doesn't see motherhood in her future, not even as a working mother. I'd like to have a little more traditional home life than what she envisions."

"Oh. I didn't mean to pry. I guess I just wanted your impression of being a bachelor today."

"You're a bachelor, sir."

"Yes, but I'm not really of your generation and I was wondering, well."

"Being candid usually works for me, sir."

"Francesca just called. Alex has requested duty in the States. He's been granted duty as a military legal liaison to their embassy here."

"Are you saying that he wants to be near her, sir?"

"They are dating. However, they are not lovers."

"She told you that, sir?"

"She did. Do you think she's trying to placate her old man?"

"Why would she lie, sir? She's an adult. She didn't need to tell you anything."

"I think she wanted me to reassure her that it was okay."

"Did you?"

"No, I was too flustered. Is it okay, Sturgis?"

"He's known her for one week, sir. They met at Harm's rehearsal dinner. My opinion is that Alex is the serious type. He obviously wants to get to know her."

"He's been staying at her apartment, but she says that they aren't, you know. She's coming here in two weeks and plans to stay with me. Is this guy for real or what?"

"Maybe he doesn't want to come to blows with a Navy Seal defending his daughter's honor, sir."

"Sturgis, I'm trying not to, but I can't help but like this guy. I keep telling myself that you can't trust a Russian, but he's different."

"Harm likes him and trusts him, sir."

"Oh, speaking of Harm, do you think he'd be willing for Alex to stay in his apartment while he's gone?"

"The Union Station apartment, sir?"

"That's the one I was thinking of."

"Probably. Tiner is staying at the farm occasionally, I know. Call Harm and ask him."

"He's on his honeymoon."

"It's Harm and Mac, sir. I'd interrupt them without a second thought."

"It is going to be hard to think of them as, well, married, isn't it?"

"In one way. On the other hand, they were ALWAYS at each other's apartments. They ran together. Maybe now they can have time for their other friends."

"It will be interesting, Sturgis. Should Meredith start looking around for someone for you?"

"Sir, with all due respect, I think I can handle it myself."

"I'll give you six months. Then I'll call out the yentas."

"It's a deal, sir."

Sturgis turns and leaves the office.

1600 ZULU

Scotland.

Harm and Mac enter the kitchen wearing dripping wet slickers.

"I can't wait to tell our children how wet our honeymoon was." Harm quips.

Mac turns slowly and looks at him as the telephone begins to ring.

"Saved by the bell. Hello?" Harm answers. "Why Mr. Webb, aren't you busy with the impending nuptials? Okay, I'm all ears."

Harm lifts one leg and rests in on a chair and leans his elbow on his knee. Mac helps him take off his jacket and begins hanging the slickers up to dry. She motions to him that she's going upstairs to change and he nods at her. When she leaves the kitchen, Harm interrupts the conversation. "Webb, I need to tell you something while Mac is out of the room. Bring me a case of peanut M&M's. The candy, Webb. Haven't you ever heard of the candy, M&M's? Get your head out of your Godiva box and send someone to Sam's Club. I want a case of the one pound bags. She's craving them. No, she's not pregnant, but that doesn't mean she won't be. Let me surprise my wife, Clay. Maybe you should ask your wife what she'll be craving in the land of "how many ways can you cook lamb."

Rabb pauses again while Webb does the majority of the talking. Harm occasionally punctuates the conversation with a grunt.

"What did the Admiral want and why didn't he just call me? Do I sound different to you?" Rabb laughs.

"Wow. See what my wedding did for everyone? Romance is in the air. Sure, Alex can use the apartment. You may want to get my computer out of there, just in case some Russian spy visits him and cracks my security code. Hey, Webb, how's the Admiral reacting to Francesca and Alex together? Has he flipped out over the Commie yet?"

Harm begins to pace around the kitchen while talking. "Really? Well Alex is a good man, Webb. Maybe you can get him to come to work for the good guys, the CIA could use a good guy these days."

"Hey, Webb? Good luck tonight, really. We'll see you tomorrow night. Bye."

By this time, Mac has reappeared wearing Marine Corps sweats.

"Don't you look lovely tonight, Sarah," Harm comments.

"I thought I'd cook dinner for my husband, so I put on work clothes," she purrs.

"Really? You're cooking? What should I do?" Harm frowns.

"Go finish "Crusade in Europe". You won't have time to read tomorrow. What time is Webb getting here tomorrow?"

"We should be able to have a late dinner. I'm going to make a fish chowder and pumpernickel rolls. I think we'll just have salad with that. Do you think that's enough?"

"That sounds nice. What are we having for dessert?"

"Angel food cake?"

"Perfect, can you make one without a mix?

"Yes, I can bake an angel food cake."

"Good. Now, you go read. I'll call you when it's time to dress for dinner."

"You mean I should dress like my wife?"

"These are my cooking clothes, not my eating clothes."

"I see. Hey did I tell you that Webb is flying in on a Navy transport?"

"What happened to traveling on the Company?"

"His investigation suffered a major setback. The two guys who were following him were taken into custody and both are dead. Looks like an agency job, too."

"So, we're no closer to solving this?"

"No. When we get to Iraq, we're going to be living in a small apartment building that has two apartments. The Webbs will have one and we'll have the other. I hope the four of us get along because it sounds as if we're going to have lots of togetherness."

"Should I be worried? Elizabeth is a blonde."

"I've only ever fallen in love with brunettes. Webb describes you on a Richter scale."

"Really? I'm flattered, but can he fly a Tomcat?"

"You're good, Mac. I like witty brunettes."

"Good, because I like tall aviators who practice law because the Navy can't afford any more wrecked planes."

"I like Marines who wear comfortable shoes, smell like lavender, and let me look at their, ah, boots."

"Commander Rabb, your book is waiting."

"I could help you cook, " Harm suggests.

"I fly solo when I'm first chair in the kitchen, but you can clean up tonight," she appeases.

Harm kisses her and says, "You drive a hard bargain, Colonel, but sign me up for KP." He leaves the kitchen and heads for the library and the leather couch.

Webb Manor Maryland

Webb hangs up the phone. He's wearing his tuxedo slacks and has his shirt on but hasn't buttoned it yet. He reaches for his cologne and splashes it on his chest. He turns to face the door when he hears a light tapping. "Come in."

Porter Webb, elegantly dresses in a dove gray silk dress, enters the room. "Hello, darling, you need to move a little faster. You've only got forty- five minutes."

"Have you seen Elizabeth, Mother?"

"I have and I must admit that she's a stunning bride, Clayton. That Vera Wang dress fits her like a glove. Oh, to be a size four again!"

"Gee mother, what are you? A huge size six! Oh my!" Webb jokes. "Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Can you have Niles send someone out for a few supplies that I need for tomorrow's trip?"

"What do you need, Clayton?"

"Commander Rabb wants a case of peanut M&M's. One pound bags. Then I need you to ask Elizabeth what she can't live without in Iraq and get some of that too."

"Hand me your cell phone, please."

"What?"

"Just give it to me." Webb hands her his cell phone and Porter dials the house phone number. "Niles, I need to speak with Mrs. Perkins, please. I'll wait."

She motions to Webb to button his shirt. Webb buttons his shirt and tucks it in. He sits on a chair and puts on his socks. He picks up a pair of black wingtips and inspects them.

"Eleanor? It's Porter calling you from Clayton's room. Listen, Clayton has just realized that there might be a type of food that Elizabeth will miss when they are in Iraq. Can you think of anything that we could make arrangements to have sent along with them? Really? Oh, I see. All right then. Have all of your guests arrived? Does everyone have suitable accommodations? They'll have to stay until at least Tuesday morning. That's fine. Okay. I'll see you in a bit." She presses the off button and smiles at her son, "Peanut butter."

"What?"

"Peanut butter and oatmeal. Her mother says that Betsy loves peanut butter. She also often eats oatmeal for breakfast."

"Cheap date, isn't she?"

"She's the perfect mate for you, Clayton. I'll tell Niles to get you a nice variety of American beers too, speaking of your slum food."

"I just like a nice, plain beer sometimes Mom."

"I know. Mac likes peanut M&M's and Betsy likes peanut butter. Occasionally, I eat a whole box of Fig Newtons. That's what makes the world go round, Clay."

"Any final words of advice, Mother?"

"Be safe. Keep your wits about you, and give me grandchildren."

"Mother, did Dad change diapers?"

"Your father did it all, Clayton."

"Then why didn't you ever have more children?"

"I never was able to conceive again, Clayton. I was thankful to have you."

"I want lots of children, Mother, even if it means quitting the Company."

"You have lots of time to think of those things. We need to be getting downstairs to greet the guests."

"You'll give Niles the list?"

"Yes, now let me tie that tie. Mmm, you smell good."

"That's generally not the comment you like to hear from your mother. You need to date more, Mother."

"Well, once I get my kid out of the house, I may have some fun of my own."

"Mother!"

"Clayton, let's go. Are you using this room tonight?"

"Yes."

"I'll have someone come in and change the linens. Really, Clayton."

The door closes. Clayton Webb and his mother descend the stairs and enter the large living room. Porter greets the Episcopal minister as Clay pumps the hand of his future father-in-law.

"Why aren't you with the women?"

"They kicked me out. I kept asking Betsy if she wanted to back out."

"Thanks."

"You wait until it's your daughter." Wayne laughs.

Clayton turns as AJ and Meredith enter. Meredith wears a sapphire blue strapless with sapphire and diamond earrings. Clay finds himself wondering how old she is and begins to calculate that she may be younger than he. He always had assumed that she was near AJ's age but now he's not so sure. Bobbi and Sturgis enter behind the Admiral followed by Bud and Harriet. Harriet is wearing an emerald fitted dress with fitted short sleeves and a scoop neckline. The inverted pleat below the empire waist deemphasizes Harriet's pregnancy. Webb muses that Harriet is wearing green, the color symbolizing fertility. He smiles thinking that Bud, the one who many would think of as the least macho of the men in their crowd, is probably the one who sees the most action. Webb thinks that this marriage thing may be a very good idea Webb notices that Sturgis seems to be very stiff in his actions with Bobbi, much more so than just a week ago at Harm and Mac's wedding.

Porter Webb nods to the musicians and they stop playing. "Please move into the living room so that we may begin the ceremony," Porter announces to the guests. Fewer than thirty people shuffle into the living room and take seats. AJ seats Meredith and then takes his place at Webb's side. AJ whispers, "Don't you have some spook friend to do this for you, Webb?"

"Nobody else has ever broken my nose. You spilled my blood; that makes us blood brothers, AJ."

AJ smiles.

The orchestra begins to play Pachebel's Canon in D and Elizabeth's sister, Madeline, slowly walks down the aisle wearing a peach silk dress and carrying white gardenias and peach roses.

The strings flawlessly transition to the Wedding March and Elizabeth glides down the steps of the foyer on the arm of her father. Elizabeth carries white roses and lily of the valley. Her dress is a sleeveless white silk with a short train. A short veil ends at her elbows. She looks angelic with her blonde hair pulled into a chignon and her peaches and cream complexion glowing in the candlelight of the room. Clay takes her right hand as Wayne offers it to him and tucks it under his arm. Porter stifles a sniff.

The ceremony is beautiful but brief. Within fifteen minutes, the vows have been spoken, the pronouncement has been made, and the kiss has sealed the deal.

Niles appears at the doorway and announces that dinner will be served and the entire group meanders into the dining room.

Sturgis lingers with Bobbi in the foyer and remarks, "So this is how the wealthy live?"

Bobbi smiles at him and says, "What a lovely understated elegant wedding,"

"Does it give you any ideas, Congresswoman?"

"I think about it, Sturgis. I just keep thinking that I'd be giving up my independence and my ambition."

"A man who loves you wouldn't ask you to become something that you're not, would he?"

"The man that I love wants children."

"Yes, he does."

"The man that I love wants his own career in the Navy."

"Yes, he does."

"I want him behind me, behind the scenes."

"He's willing to be behind the scenes, but can't he stand along side you? Many Washington couples are both successful in their own careers."

"I know. I just don't know how to do that. I've always had to dominate,"

"You could let me try, couldn't you?"

"I don't know, Sturgis. I like having things my way. I may never be able to get married. I'm too selfish."

"If you change your mind, you know where I am."

Sturgis offers her his arm and they enter the dining room.

AJ and Meredith exchange a quick look. "What's on your mind, m'lady?" AJ asks.

"I liked that ceremony. This wedding inspires me to simplify ours." Meredith quips.

"I'm all for that, darlin'" AJ murmurs in her ear. "Let's spend the money on the honeymoon."

"Where shall we go? Italy?"

"Been there, done that. I'm thinking Greece."

"Oooh. I like the way you think, AJ," Meredith grins.

"Of course, we could marry in the next six month and visit the Rabbs and the Webbs in Iraq," AJ suggests.

"Not on your life. I'm not spending my honeymoon ducking sniper attacks, not even with a Seal."

Harried sides up to Bud and asks, "Did you know that we have to stay here for two nights? What about little AJ?"

"Yes I knew. I packed more things for you. Your mother said that they'd be fine. She said that you and I should relax and spend the time renewing our relationship."

"My mother said that?"

"She's starting to like me. I'm the stud that keeps siring her grandchildren."

"Bud! That's crass," Harriet jokes.

The balance of the evening is spent observing the hushed tones of upper class elegance. Clayton and Elizabeth visit with their guests; the imported champagne flows freely. Since all of the guests are staying on the grounds, they linger on the first floor of the manor long after the caterers and musicians have left.

Clayton announces that he and Elizabeth are retiring for the night. He explains the accommodations.

"Most of you will be staying for only tonight. Because of my line of work, we wanted you to be as secure as possible. The JAG teams and other administration officials will be here until Monday. Members of Betsy's family will be here until Tuesday. Thank you all for celebrating this day with us. Good night."

Elizabeth and Clay slowly climb the stairs as their guests look on with approval. Porter Webb gets a surprise show of support from Betsy's parents. "We plan for this day for years and then spend the day wondering where the years have gone, don't we?" asks Eleanor.

"Thank you for such a wonderful daughter for my son, Eleanor," Porter compliments. "I am so happy to see him so perfectly matched."

"Porter, if you get lonely in this big old house, you just give us a call. We'll come over and play three-handed pinochle with you," Wayne laughs.

"I think I'd like that." Porter responds.

"You know, I have a cousin. He's a retired economics professor at Georgetown. His wife died last fall. If we ever need a fourth for four- handed," Wayne suggests.

"I'm thinking you might have a plan, Wayne," Porter teases back.

Sturgis slides next to Bobbi and whispers to her, "Are you comfortable with the sleeping arrangements?"

"Are you?"

"I'm not sure, Bobbi."

"We can ask the Admiral and Meredith to buddy up with us on single sex rooms."

"Please don't mention this to him, Bobbi. I'll sleep on the floor before I tell him what's going on," Sturgis says softly. "I just wish you could understand that loving a man doesn't make you less of a woman."

"I wish I could understand it too, Sturgis. I want to lean on you, but I can't."

Sturgis blinks back tears that sting his eyes and turns to look at the artwork lining the hall.

Clayton and Elizabeth enter his bedroom. Clay gently unbuttons the back of her gown. She pulls away from him and enters the bathroom, gently pushing the door closed. He looks at the bed and remembers Harm and Mac. He lowers himself to the floor to look under the bed to check for a bomb. He then enters his closet, pulls out a wand, and sweeps the room for listening devices. Finding none, he quickly undresses to his shorts and hops into bed. Elizabeth emerges from the bathroom with her blond hair brushed out and hanging loose. She's wearing an ivory lace gown. She tosses the matching robe over the chair and walks toward Clayton's outstretched hands. He pulls her to him, scooting over and pulling back the sheets as she enters the bed.

"Hello, Mrs. Webb. Have I told you how much I love you today?"

"You may have, but I have a short attention span," Betsy smiles back at him.

"Then let me show you," Webb answers.

"

"

.