~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 2
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2030 Zulu
January 23, 2004
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
Admiral Chegwidden stared at the paper in his hand, resisting the urge to crumple it into a ball. He had known that sending Rabb into a warzone had this kind of outcome, but he didn't have to like the results. "Coates," he called.
"Yes, sir?" Coates came into his office and came to attention.
"Coates, I need you to go find Colonel Mackenzie for me. I need to talk to her, but be quiet about it."
"Aye, sir," she said, then turned and left.
AJ examined the note once more and frowned. Rabb's family had already been notified. As just his fiancee, Mac wouldn't have received this kind of news, so the job fell to him to tell her what had happened. It was, perhaps, the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He looked up as Mac walked into his office and snapped to attention. "Close the hatch," he ordered. Light caught the diamond and sapphire ring on her left hand and made the stones glitter as she turned to shut the hatch behind her. He winced internally, knowing what he'd have to say next.
"You sent for me, sir?" she asked, coming to attention again.
"At ease, Colonel," he said. "Have a seat."
He watched as Mac settled herself in the chair in front of his desk. "Mac," he said softly, "I received this today, and I--thought you'd like to... see it." He handed her the notice, and watched as she read through it.
She finished, placed the notice on his desk, and shut her eyes tightly for a few minutes before looking at him. "He's *not* dead, Admiral," she said insistently.
AJ sighed, and picked up the paper. "Mac, I know that this must hurt like hell, but you *have* to accept facts. Commander Rabb's plane blew up, and there is no sign that he was able to punch out."
"He's *not* dead," she repeated stubbornly, not meeting his gaze.
"There was barely enough of the plane to identify it," he said gently. "Officially, he's MIA, but the fuel reserves and a small fire from the missile that brought him down caused the plane to blow up. Mac, there's no way he could have survived the explosion."
Mac looked up at him, and he could see the anguish in her eyes. "He *can't* be dead," she whispered hoarsely. "I'd know it if he were."
AJ got up, walked around the desk, and put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry, Mac," he said softly. "I'm calling Mrs. Burnett this afternoon, and I'll take care of the memorial service arrangements. He's to have a stone erected at Arlington." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Take all the time you need--I'm granting you some leave time. I'm sorry, Colonel. I have to go inform the rest of the staff."
The Admiral walked out of his office into the middle of the bullpen. "Admiral on deck." The entire staff came to attention.
He nodded to them, and unfolded the paper. "Attention, people. I have just received an official notice about one of our own. At 1058 on 20 January, Commander Rabb's tomcat went down in the desert in Afghanistan--radio contact reports that his ejection seat was jammed, and it exploded soon after impact. He is now MIA and presumed dead." AJ fell silent and looked over his staff. Shock was written over many of their faces, and noticed that tears were rolling down Harriet's face.
"Sir, what about funeral arrangements?" Bud asked with a catch in his voice.
"There was nothing left to bury," he said quietly. "However, a memorial service is in the works." Unable to face them anymore, he turned and hurried towards his office. What the hell was he going to do now?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
1730 Local
January 22, 2004
Burnett's house
San Diego, California
Trish folded another shirt and laid it on top of the pile. While it was true that they could afford to have the laundry sent out, she sometimes found folding clothes to be somehow soothing. She picked up the last shirt, folded it, and laid it on top. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. A new artist was currently setting up in her gallery, so she didn't have to go back until Monday, which was the day before the opening.
The doorbell rang, so Trish stood up and walked over to answer it. She opened the door to find two men in class A uniforms. "Mrs. Burnett?" one of them asked.
Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. Bile rose in her throat, and she stepped back. "No," she whispered hoarsely.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," he said, holding out an envelope.
Trish took it with a shaking hand and watched as the men tipped their hats and left. "Who was it, honey?" Frank walked up to the door as she opened the envelope.
She held it out to him and he scanned it quickly before pulling her into a tight embrace. Trish buried her face in her husband's chest. It was her worst nightmare—losing her son in the same way she'd lost her first husband. She felt Frank's hand stroke her hair as a lump settled in her throat. "It's not fair," she choked out as tears began to roll down her face.
"Shhh," Frank murmured as he held her close and tried not to cry himself. Her arms came up around him, and they stayed like that for a long time, giving each other the comfort and support they needed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
2130 Zulu
January 23, 2004
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
The Admiral stared at Rabb's contact information and picked up the telephone for the fifth time. He started to dial, but couldn't get through the entire nine-digit number before hanging up yet again. He slumped into his leather chair, groaned, and rubbed his eyes. He knew Commander Rabb's history--how was he supposed to talk to Harm's mother about funeral arrangements?
He looked up at the knock on his door and grimaced. "Enter," he said.
Mac walked in and snapped to attention in front of his desk. "At ease, Colonel," he said with a sigh.
"Admiral, I need permission to go to Afghanistan to see the crash site," she said, her voice strained from unshed tears.
"Denied," he snapped.
"Admiral--"
"Stand down, Colonel," he ordered.
"But Admiral--"
"I said *stand* *down*," he ordered more forcefully. "And if you try a harebrained scheme like Rabb did and resign your commission to go looking for him, I swear I'll lock you in the brig or hang your six from the nearest yardarm, whichever's handiest."
Mac flinched, studied the tiled floor, then looked at him. "He's only MIA," she whispered. "He's *alive*, Admiral. I *know* it. Just because his plane blew up and his ejection seat wasn't working doesn't mean that he's dead."
AJ softened and came around the desk. "Mac, I'm sorry, but Harm is *dead*. There's only a one in a million chance that he could have survived the crash, and I've only ever heard of *one* pilot that managed to survive bailing from a jet without an ejection seat, and that was just damnfool luck."
A single tear escaped from Mac's eye and rolled down her cheek. AJ pulled a tissue out and gently wiped it away. It just seemed so *wrong* to see Sarah Mackenzie cry, but he really couldn't blame her. "I granted you leave," he said softly. "You're dismissed, and I don't want to see you around here for a few days, is that clear?" He paused for a few minutes. "Doesn't Mattie need to know what happened, too?"
She nodded wordlessly, got up, and left his office. AJ picked up the phone again and, gritting his teeth, dialed the number. "Mrs. Burnett? Good. This is Admiral Chegwidden. My condolences, ma'am." He listened for a few minutes before continuing. "Ma'am, I'll be happy to make the arrangements here--I'll pull in every favor I can to get a memorial at Arlington. Yes, ma'am, I know that they usually don't allow empty coffin burials, but I'll arrange it, anyway."
He listened again. "Thank you, ma'am. And... I wanted you to know that your son was one of the finest officers I've ever had the pleasure to command. Thank you," he finished in a hoarse voice, then gently replaced the phone in its cradle. He ran a hand over his bald pate. He'd pull whatever strings it took to get one of his own the honors that officer deserved.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
2316 Zulu
January 23, 2004
Harm's Apartment
North of Union Station
Mac unlocked the door with her key and stumbled inside. She wanted to burst into tears, to scream, to curse fate for taking him away... She wanted to go to Afghanistan and blow away the SOBs who'd shot down his plane in the first place. Something in her refused to accept that he was dead--it was the same part that had somehow located him after his icy dip into the drink a few years back.
She hurried inside, shut the door behind her, and locked it before heading straight to Harm's bedroom. Mac snatched a pillow off his bed, sat down before her knees collapsed, and buried her nose in it. It still smelled of him, and it was easier to believe, if just for few a minutes, that he would be walking in the door wearing the smile that he reserved just for her. A lump rose in her throat as she valiantly strove to hold back her tears.
He was *alive*, damnit! She didn't care what the government thought--her sailor *would* be coming home to her. He had promised, and Harm *always* kept his promises. The prospect of not having him next to her ever again came at her out of nowhere. It could still happen. He could still die out in the Afghan desert without ever seeing her again. Her world suddenly began to look like a much lonelier, emptier place without him in it. Finally, she succumbed to her tears and began to sob.
"Harm," she whispered mournfully. She almost hated herself for being so needy, but Harm was the only person that she'd really been able to rely on for any length of time. He was the one who made her laugh when she needed it, and who had been there through the tough times in the past eight years. Their relationship was complex. It had evolved over the years from simple friendship to something deeper, more intimate. He was her best friend, yes, but he was also the man she loved deeply.
With him missing, it was if part of her had been ripped away. Part of her was lost, and it would stay that way until he came back to her, where he belonged.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
2243 Zulu
January 23,2004
Roberts's Residence
Four-year-old AJ Roberts flew his toy jet plane around the room, making 'whooshing' noises. He glanced at his parents and frowned. Something wasn't right, because Mommy and Daddy were sad. AJ stopped flying for a few minutes and examined the plane that Uncle Harm had sent him for Christmas. He knew that Uncle Harm had gone Away, like Daddy did sometimes, and he guessed that his beloved godfather could've gotten hurt like Daddy.
Yes, he decided, his parents *would* be sad if Uncle Harm got a big owie like Daddy's. But it wouldn't happen, because *nobody* could hurt Uncle Harm. He was better than Superman, and AJ wanted to be just like him when he got big! Maybe he'd even go fly into space and discover aliems to bring home as pets. After all, Mommy *surely* couldn't object to an aliem as a pet. With that thought in mind, he resumed flying his plane, pretending that it was Uncle Harm.
"AJ, sweetie, come here, please."
AJ turned and obediently walked over to his mommy. "Yeah, Mommy?" he asked.
"C'mere, kiddo," his daddy said, and pulled him onto the couch. Daddy shifted him over so that he was sitting in between his parents.
"Sweetie, we got some bad news today," Mommy said softly.
"Bad news?"
"Remember how Uncle Harm had to go fly planes in the war?" Daddy asked.
"Uh huh," AJ said.
"Uncle Harm's plane blew up, sweetheart," his mommy said gently.
"Blew up? Is Uncle Harm ok?" AJ knew that explosions could hurt people, because that was how Daddy got a fake leg like a pirate. He didn't want Uncle Harm to be hurt.
"He didn't make it, honey," Daddy said. "They think that he... died."
"What's died, Mommy?" he asked, wrinkling his forehead.
"Baby, died is when God takes someone back to Heaven. Uncle Harm's Daddy is there, and now he is, too," she answered.
"Ok." AJ thought for a little while, then looked at his Mommy, confused. "When's he coming back to play? A'cause Aunt Mac promised that I could be the ring bear at their wedding. I practiceded my roar and everything."
Mommy picked him up and hugged him tightly. "Sweetheart, when God calls somebody home, it's forever. Uncle Harm isn't coming back. I'm sorry, baby."
AJ's face crumpled and he began to cry. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he began to scream. "Uncle HARM, come BACK." He started struggling in his mommy's arms until she let him down. AJ ran to the front door and started pounding on it with his little fists. "NONONONONONONO!" he wailed.
He felt Daddy's big, warm hand on his back as he kept crying. "It'll be all right, sweetie," his daddy's voice rumbled huskily. AJ continued to scream and cry. His hero was gone forever, and nothing would ever be right again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
