I'd like to take this moment to extend a HUGE thanks to "jagchick105." I had a crisis earlier with my computer when it was not uploading my documents correctly. I posted an author's note and jagchick105 responded immediately. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, jagchick105!!!!!! You've saved me from having an ulcer (and from damaging my computer beyond repair...)!!!! I owe you so big!!!!!!

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Thanks for your reviews!

Harm&mac4eva: Hey, thank you for reviewing! Your questions will be answered shortly!!!!

kay- Thanks for reading! And I realized that when you copy stuff to review, it deletes mostly anything that is doubled, so the three w's was changed to one "w". But it works now! And I signed the guest book on your site! I love your site! The ZULU chart is a lifesaver!

tomcat-all-2001- hey, talk about cutting it close, I was gonna check my email before I posted the next chapter, and there was your review! Thanks! I'm working up to the plot. There are going to be a lot of details in this story so I needed to establish a solid beginning before the real action starts! I hope I don't mess anything up!!!!!

flyboyfan- Yay! Suspenseful! That's what I'm aimin' for! Thank you for coming back!

miatachik- Actually, it worked when I put two more w's in the link. So it works now. Kay has a great site! And the ZULU chart is fantastic!!! Thanks for reading!!

smithknk- Hey, the link works now! Thank you so much!!!! There will be more answers  and suspense in this and the coming chapters. Also they will introduce a few things leading to what the summery says. More about that at my A/N at the bottom of the page. Thanks for reviewing! 

jagchick105- Wow, I'm glad you like it so much! I'm trying to treat it delicately cause I don't want to insult anyone. I decided to take a chance and I hope it doesn't come off sounding phony. Thank you for coming back!!

harmsgirl- Yay! I love your enthusiasm! It motivates me so much!!!!! Thank you for reviewing!!!

I don't think I forgot anybody. . .if I did, please say somethin'! I luv to answer your reviews!

CAUTION---The history of Private Thomas has rape-relations

Also, this chapter has some pro-Catholic observations, which I know can be very different from other religious views. I'm not putting it in here to force opinions and I hope it doesn't upset anyone. But as the saying goes---"A good author writes what she knows."

*shrugs* This is what I know.

~sancti

Chapter 4: Communication

"Look, even if, now, if, Lieutenant Stephens led Thomas into some kind of trap, the connections he'd have with the Chechen military would have to be very strong." Webb explained once again.

 Harm waved the car opposite of him into the asylum parking lot. "If you have money, what do they care?"

Webb scoffed. "The Chechen military doesn't trust Americans, Harm, they're devious, suspicious---the only way I can see Stephens making a deal with them is if he was a Chechen!"

 Harm spotted Mac leaning against the JAG company car at the entrance. She held a frown on her features, and that sharp Marine cover atop her head only made her look even more hostile. Harm parked Webb's car in the empty space next to Mac, her icy gaze penetrating the sailor as he stepped out of the vehicle.

"You're three and a half minutes late." She said dryly.

 Harm shrugged, quite used to Mac's uncanny skill in time management. "There was traffic."  

Mac started toward the doors. "You said you had a possible suspect?"

 Harm filled her in, watching her expression carefully as he revealed the unpleasant information. She listened tentatively, but her attitude then became stony.

"Of course, Stephens swears he has nothing to do with the kidnapping, but---"

"But perhaps he's right." Mac finished for him, her tone clipped.

 Webb glanced over at Harm---the ball was in his court. "Perhaps," Harm concurred slowly, "there isn't overwhelming evidence that he's the perp, Mac---but, he has motive."

 Mac whipped around on her heel, lacing her fingers behind her back. "Just because he has a grudge, doesn't mean he's guilty of anything."

 Harm narrowed his eyes. Sure, Mac was a Marine, but it seemed she was taking it a tad too personally. And it was enough to make Harm suspicious. "You're defending him a bit zealously, aren't you, Mac?"

 Webb watched this with fascination. The banter between the soldier and the sailor was always entertaining. The Marine scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm not defending him," She said, biting off each word, "I'm just saying we should keep an open mind. There were fourteen other recruits in that platoon who could've been responsible for this." 

 Harm put a hand up in defense. "Hey, my mind's open. But I'm gonna have to give the Admiral something as an update." Harm broke off the conversation there, and walked up the counter where the same unpleasant nurse still typed away at her computer. Harm didn't say anything and waited for the nurse to sense his presence. She eventually looked up at Harm, and sighed.

"Oh, you again. You want to see Thomas?"

Harm nodded.

"I'll take 'em, Deloris." Harm recognized Bill's voice from behind him, and he turned around to face the kid. At the moment, Bill carried a small tray with two syringes and a few paper cups containing pills. "You're just in time, too. The doc prescribed her some new meds that'll hopefully calm her down."

"Take us to her." Mac ordered.

Bill noticed the unique rawness in the Colonel's voice, and nodded his head toward the elevator. "Right this way, ma'am."

Mac stormed ahead, Harm and Webb eventually falling in step with her. "So what was Thomas saying before?"

Mac's eyes flashed a tad with annoyance. "Weren't you listening when I told you?"

Harm chuckled. "You told me at a sixty mile an hour pace, Mac. I could barely decipher what you were saying."

Mac's gaze softened some. "Jesu, nostri miserere, Tu nose pasce, nos tuere, Tu nos bona videre. It's Latin and a verse from that song."

"And it means. . .?" Webb prodded.

" 'Thy true flock in safety keep,' " Mac translated, " 'Living Bread. Thy life supply;

Strengthen us, or else we die.' "     

 Harm shuddered as he pushed the elevator button. "A bit morbid."

Mac tightened her lips into a thin line, relaxing her shoulders. Her compassionate side was seeping through. "Sure is. The last verse, 'Strengthen us, or else we die,' she kept repeating though. It was like she was trying to reach out to us in the only way she could."

Webb cocked an eyebrow in uncertainty. "Through a century-old Latin song?"

"It's just freakin' creepy." Bill, who had apparently been listening to the whole conversation, added. 

Stepping out of the elevator, the four made the familiar route to Thomas's room. Bill again peeked through the window in Thomas's door, though Harm doubted he'd see anything due to the fact that the lights were still off inside. Seeming to be satisfied, Bill balanced the tray of drugs in one hand, and unlocked the door with the other. As soon as the door was open, the four could make out a soft voice singing rather skillfully near the bed.

"Sub diversis speciebus, signis tantum, et non rebus, latent res eximiae: Caro cibus, sanguis potus; Manet tamen Christus totus sub utraque specie."

It was eerie, to say the least. Over and over again, she sang, huddled up on the floor, wrapped in the blankets. Her eyes tightly shut. Bill shook his head in puzzlement. "Amazing. She didn't say a word until you guys came."

Harm glanced over at the kid. "That right?"

Bill knelt next to Thomas, placing the tray down. She didn't seem to notice him and continued to sing slowly. "She wouldn't say anything. Just scream if anyone came near her."

"Wouldn't her doctor consider this a breakthrough then?" Mac inquired.

Bill snorted. "Her doctor doesn't have much faith in 'er gettin' better. I told him about the things she was sayin', and he just told me to give 'er this stuff."

Bill aimed the syringe at Thomas's shoulder when Harm snatched it away.

"What are ya doin'?" Bill exclaimed.

Harm examined the syringe under the shine of the flashlight. "What king of medicine is this?"

Bill shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?" Harm gave him a doubtful stare. Bill sighed. "Look, the doc prescribes it, I inject." He replied stubbornly.  

"Is this the usual medicine she gets?" Harms asked, examining the other syringe.

"No, but---"

 Harm didn't need any more of an answer, so he emptied the syringes' contents on to the cement floor. Mac didn't try to hide her smile. Usually Harm's impulsiveness annoyed her because it was so different from the way she did things. But this time, she silently congratulated his move. 

"Wha---what are you doin'?" Bill watched in horror as Harm tossed the pills into the toilet.

Harm glanced over at Thomas, her eyes empty, but the ethereal song still escaping her slowly moving lips. Suddenly, her gaze shifted, and she stared right into Harm's eyes. Right into his soul. Harm looked away. No one else seemed to notice the connection. "I want to see her doctor."

"Doctor Wagner with a patient---" Bill started to say.

 "This is my client and I want to know what's being given to her." Harm interrupted, his tone tinted with anger, "If she started talking all on her own, I don't want more meds to mess it up." 

 Bill let out a sharp, frustrated sigh and glanced down at Thomas. He bit his lip in obvious hesitation. He then shifted his attention to the syringes still in Harm's hand. "Look, sir, Thomas's condition is the worst it could be. I know---my mother had schizophrenia as bad as this," Bill stopped a moment to reflect on the memory. He continued with a solemn tone, "There's no hope of 'er getting better, Commander. She's in a permanent state. The only thing her doctor can do for her is give her meds to keep 'er calm," Bill shook his head, "That doesn't even work sometimes."

Harm inspected the syringes in his hand. "Do you know what these new ones were for, then?"

T he kid pursed his lips and nervously ran a hand through his dusty blond hair. "I have an idea. I saw the doc fill them," His eyes widened suddenly in anxiety, "But you have to understand---the only way she could possibly communicate civilly with us is if she breaks herself out her shell. But, the voices she hears, the hallucinations she sees, they're a comfort to her. She doesn't want to let go of them. And if she does, it could have even more devastating effects on her psyche."

 Mac nodded in accord. "That's true. She may perceive the world completely differently. If she wakes to see that it differs significantly from her own. . ."

"She could go into mental relapse." Bill finished for her.

Harm nodded in understanding. "So these meds are to prevent her from coming back."

Bill grit his teeth, his eyes sparkling with anger. "I believe so. Doctor Wagner prescribed them immediately after I told him she was speaking. . .even though it was incoherent."

Mac made an incredulous chuckle. "It was anything but incoherent, Bill," Mac said, pausing a moment to listen to the song, "she's reaching out to us without the help of medicine."

Harm tossed the syringes onto the tray, folding his arms over his chest. "It still doesn't seem right though. If there's a chance that she could get better, why would Wagner squash it without a second glance?"

 Webb, who'd been listening with curiosity, stepped forward. "I know what you mean. It's probably to just get her out of here." Webb continued at the request of their questioning looks, "A patient needing this much care has got to drain on the resources. A chance for her recovery means extensive therapy, medical bills that neither she nor her parents have to pay. Plus the fact that her condition would be so unstable, she could easily slip back into a veggie state. Patients can stay here a long time, but with the knowledge that they'll eventually get better and resume their lives with relatives."

Harm swore to himself. "And when he makes his superiors realize she's a lost cause, she'll be send to some hellhole clinic where she'll never see the light of day again."

Bill shook his head one too many times, his eyes large. "No, no, no, Doctor Wagner is an excellent physician. He wouldn't neglect his patients just to save a buck."

"I'll call the Admiral. Ask him to put Sturgis right on it." Harm said without acknowledging Bill's protest, "Looks like we've uncovered another case."

Thomas's singing suddenly became a fraction louder. This time with a different verse. Harm glimpsed over at the Marine.

Mac shrugged. "I have no idea."

Harm knelt down in front of the girl. Her eyes concentrated on his again. She was trying to say something. "Bill, there wouldn't happen to be a priest around here, would there?"

***

"Through the most sacred mysteries of man's redemption may God Almighty remit unto thee the pains of the present and the future life, open to thee the gates of Paradise, and bring thee to everlasting joys. Amen. And May God bless thee, In nomen patris, et filii, et spiritu sancti, amen." Father O'Neal recognized the sudden calmness in the man's composure at his words, then the hollow look in his eyes as his eyelids fluttered, then all was still.

 The nurse sighed as she lifted the blanket up and over the man's head. Father O'Neal blew out the candle on the nightstand and gathered his oils and holy water, putting them into his briefcase. Meanwhile, the nurse quietly unhooked medical equipment, stealing a glance at the old priest every once and a while. O'Neal noticed it.

"Is something wrong, nurse?" He asked calmly.

The older woman shrugged. "Do you really think all you said will deliver him to some salvation?"

O'Neal smirked. "That's up to Him." He said as he pointed to the ceiling.

The nurse grunted in response. Father O'Neal stood, feeling his old bones crack. "You're not a believer, I take it?"

 The nurse shot him a look he couldn't interpret. "I've seen too much death and suffering in this place. What kind of god would do that to his people?"

 Father O'Neal bent down to pick up his worn briefcase. He stared at it for a moment before answering. "I find that we cannot raise the question, How can there be evil if God exists, without raising the second question, How can there be any good if He exists not?" O'Neal said, "And some things we should not know the answers to." He added dryly.

 The nurse, her brows drawn in with anger, opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by someone clearing their throat by the doorway. The nurse's eyebrows rose a fraction and she consciously tucked a hair behind her ear. "Can I help you, sailor?" She said jovially.

The man smirked, drawing his hands behind his back. "Hi, I'm Commander Rabb, this is Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie and," The Commander hesitated when he gestured to the sour looking man next to him, as if unsure if he should introduce him. The man rolled his eyes.

"Clayton Webb."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

"What can I do for you?" The nurse asked pleasantly.

"Actually, we'd like to speak to Father O'Neal, if that's all right." Rabb relied.

O'Neal chuckled softly. "Well, considering we're standing in the room of a dead man, why don't we go to my office?"

The three newcomers seemed to just notice the blanket-covered body on the bed, and each straightened slightly. "If that won't be a problem, Father."

O'Neal gestured towards the door. "This way, gentlemen, ma'am." O'Neal led the way to his office just down the hall.

Mac smiled to herself as they entered the small office. It reminded her of those days so long ago. The two or so years that her parents could afford to send her private school. The nun's offices were just like this. Solemn. Decorated accordingly with a plain wooden crucifix, a gilded plaque of the Ten Commandments, and a bookshelf filled with thick, dusty volumes. Father O'Neal sat down heavily behind the dark wooden desk, placing his briefcase on it. He gestured to the two chairs opposite of the desk.

"Please, sit."

Mac and Harm took a seat, while Webb stood behind them. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Harm took in a breath and leaned forward. "This may sound awkward, Father, but---how's your Latin?"    

***

Father O'Neal shook his head as he mumbled the words to himself. With the aid of a flashlight, he flipped through the yellowed pages of the thick book, glancing over his thin-rimmed spectacles to see the girl.

"Sub diversis speciebus, signis tantum, et non rebus, latent res eximiae. Caro cibus, sanguis potus; Manet tamen Christus totus sub utraque specie." O'Neal murmured. "Interesting."

Harm paced the cell impatiently. "Isn't this why you guys spend nine years in a seminary?"

O'Neal chuckled, not taking his eyes away from the book. "Part of the reason. But those nine years were a long time ago." O'Neal looked to the ceiling trying to remember something, "nearly a century actually," He shook his head in disgust, "I'm getting old."

 Harm relaxed and sat down on the cot but started when the old priest let out a sharp laugh. "Ha! I found it! So many verses to that song, I didn't think I ever would!"

Mac and Webb stepped forward. "Well?"

O'Neal repositioned his glasses. "Uh, here we are, 'Here in outward signs are hidden priceless things, to sense forbidden. Signs, not things, are all we see---Flesh from bread, and Blood from wine; Yet is Christ, in either sign---"

" 'All entire confessed to be.' " Mac finished for him.

Before any of them could answer, Thomas started to shake violently. Bill came to her side, trying to calm her, but she shook him off, sobbing. She threw herself to the ground and screamed the name Harm had been waiting for.

"STEPHENS!" She cried out. And she shouted the Marine's name over and over again.

***

TBC

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(A/N) Okay, a bit overdramatic perhaps, and I know I haven't gotten to the parts that I described in the summery, but some of that will happen in the next chapter where there will still be a few more surprises. I'm using these beginning chapters to work up to the main plot of the story, so, no, I'm not just beatin' around the bush, lol, I know what I'm doin'. And the answers aren't going to be as crystal clear as Harm thinks. . .(hint, hint about Lieutenant Stephens. . .)

And as always, if you have suggestions, questions, or comments, I'd be glad to hear 'em.

~sancti