0730 Local, July 15, The Pentagon, Washington, DC

"Good morning. Capt. Rabb's office. Petty Officer Coates speaking. This line is not secure. How may I help you sir?"

"Morning Coates," Tom Boone's voice boomed over the phone. "Where's the captain? I thought he was back today."

"Sir, I just spoke with him on the cell phone, and he's about 10 minutes out. Can I pass a message along for you?"

"When he comes in tell him he's needed in the vault ASAP," and with that the volatile admiral was gone.

0900 Local, July 15, The Pentagon, Washington, DC

Walking out of one of the Pentagon's extremely secure conference rooms Harm had a wicked headache. Rather than working through some of the thornier elements of the Navy's portion of the Department of Defense reorganization plan, the conference had degenerated into a turf battle between the various elements in attendance, and Tom Boone was hot under the collar.

"The son of a bitches just don't get it," he ranted to his harried deputy as the elevator door closed. "I just can't believe our own guys . the aviators . can't figure out that we've got to get more involved with the spec-ops people, the Marines, and the Army. The ignorant bastards are convinced the entire goddamn military universe revolves around them. Bullshit!"

By the time the two officers walked into the admiral's office some of the steam had gone out of the conversation, but Clayton Webb's presence tossed a few more logs onto the fire.

"Admiral . Rabb . I see you had a productive meeting with the Navy's thought leaders," Webb opened.

"Dammit, Clay this isn't the time," Harm jumped in to close off that line of conversation before the admiral's blood pressure boldly went where no blood pressure had gone before. "Are you here for a reason, or did you just drop by to see if we survived the ambush Adm. Harrell tried to set?"

"I really have a valid reason to be here, and I am glad that I have a chance to talk to both of you at once. I was afraid you were not back from the Gulf yet.

"Strictly out of school, the pace of things is picking up with our militant friends in Afghanistan, and there are indications that some big operation is cooking. Before you ask, no one has any idea what's in the wind, but there are a lot of signs that Big O's boys are on the move. The Brits are also picking up more solid indications that the Nut of Baghdad is nosing around with some of his European friends looking for more exotic nuclear hardware. All in all I've got to tell you that I'm getting worried, but our crack office bound analysts have concluded that we don't have anything 'to be concerned about.'

"To cut a long story short, we've got plenty to be worried about, and I don't have a clue about where the time line is.

"I saw Chegwidden early this morning, and he told me that he's looking for a work document from the Marines and the Army this week. The Air Force paperwork is apparently already on his desk. Now, I would guess he's going to be all over you two about Navy progress, and I really don't think you want the Secretary, the CNO (Chief of Naval Operations), and an unhappy former Seal all on your ass.

"On that happy note I will take my leave," and with that Webb slithered out the door closing it behind him.

"Shit!"

"I'll second that!

1015 Local, July 15, The Pentagon, Washington, DC

As soon as the staff was assembled Adm. Boone called the meeting to order.

"Alright people, here's where we are going from here: A glass of cold water and an original idea would kill most of the Navy's plans and doctrine troops apparently, so we're going to make it easy for them. We're going to draft a new Navy position and I'll take the damn thing to the Chief myself. If we keep waiting for the surface warfare people, the aviators, the bubble heads, and the rest to decide we are all on the same team we'll be sitting in the basement of a burned out Pentagon waiting for them to decide we have a problem.

"Harm: Pull a couple of whiz kids out of the think tank; set them on the right course with the unconventional warfare issues, and integrate the war fighters needs into an overall plan that will mesh with what the Jarheads and the Snake Eaters are planning. If you need to get back with the 3rd or any of the other Marine Expeditionary Force (MEF) planners do so quickly and get this finished.

"You will also need to get with someone from JAG to clear up how we will proceed with rules of engagement (ROE) drafting unless you want to wind up with the lawyers running the show later . no offense intended of course."

1030 Local, July 16, Falls Church, VA

Vice Admiral A. J. Chegwidden unconsciously straightened his uniform as he walked through the doors and into JAG Operations for the last time as The JAG. Gunnery Sergeant Mike Mullins had been watching for his boss to hit the door.

"Attention! Admiral on deck."

As the room came to attention there was a long pause. "At ease," the Navy's newest three-star opened. "Since this is my last day here there are a couple of details I want to cover with everyone. First, there will be a general amnesty on leftover reports and general paperwork. It will not last past Friday close of business, but I want to be able to leave my replacement with a clean slate.

"Secondly, there is news on who will move in the 'big chair' as well as some other information to be passed along.

"First, Adm. Morris has been nominated to the Military Court of Appeals and he will be leaving for his new job across The River in a couple of weeks when his pending docket is cleared.

"Second, Commander Roberts, you are being shipped over to Adm. Boone's operation for a few days TAD. Capt. Rabb asked for a JAG consult and ROE review on one of their projects, and you have been requested. Clean things up around here and get with the Admiral's executive assistant (EA) to arrange the move. Also, I doubt you will be coming back here before leaving for Pearl Harbor, so start getting the loose ends tied up.

"Third, Sturgis your promotion to Captain is in the mill, and you will be moving up to acting JAG for the immediate future. My replacement will be announced before the end of the month. That is all for now. Back to work!"

1700 Local, July 16, At sea with the 3rd MEU

"Mac," Blackwater Buckner opened, "have things smoothed out with the Central Command (CENTCOM) intel group and the Fifth Fleet and NAVCENT (Naval Forces Central Command) staff in Bahrain?"

"Yes sir. I think we've finally all gotten on the same page, and we're seeing a lot more of the raw take as well as the assessment data from all concerned. But I'm still not comfortable that we're ready to start much in the way of in-house analysis," she concluded.

"Okay. We'll score that one as partial good news, but we've got to get our shit together here before we can start to move the Cranberry Cove details out of my safe and along to the orders group. Stay after it. Dismissed.

"Oh, Mac, before you go: You are still heading for The Rock to the command staff intelligence conference next week aren't you? When you see Capt. Rabb try to remember to give him my regards. "

She managed to get over the knee knocker and out into the companionway before the blush rose above the collar of her BDUs, but it was close.

2200 Local, July 17, The Pentagon, Washington, DC

Ties had been sacrificed hours ago, and a great many other fine protocol points had been trampled during the day. Heated conversation that had echoed around the dungeon died away finally, and the sigh that escaped Harm's lips when he pushed his chair away from the table was heart felt. "Bud, how long have we been at this? It seems like we've been debating some of this shit for weeks!"

"Sir, I all I know is that we got started about 0715, and I don't think we've been out of here for more than a few minutes since then. On top of that, how many 'clarification' meetings have we had today? I lost count after the fast three rounds you went with Gen. Lindsay about the Marines potential role in Cranberry Cove option six . or was it five?"

As Harm and Bud gathered up the mounds of documents and called for a classified document control officer to cart them off the older man appraised his younger associate. 'God, he's come a long way over the last few years. The old, affable PAO from the Seahawk has turned into one hell of a lawyer. Now he's reinventing himself again with a rapidly expanding view of the Navy's emerging role.

"Bud, you need to be very careful with what you say for the next few days while this project works out. If you keep acting like (a) you know what you are doing, and (b) continue to show that you understand how we are planning to execute some of these options you aren't going to get to Hawaii and out of the line of fire.

"Adm. Boone likes your analysis, and he's really behind anyone who can reduce some of the abstract concepts buried in policy and turn them into real, workable ROE. That's a dangerous trait. It will bounce you out into the field as a wartime fleet JAG if things get hot."

0715 Local, July 23, The Pentagon, Washington, DC

Harm took a last look at the e-mail message he just finished.

'Mac: 'At this point it looks like I will blast off from here Thursday night on the Milk Run for NAVCENT and on to The Rock probably arriving late afternoon on Friday the 27th. That will give me a chance to get a little sleep in a real rack before the meeting starts on Monday. 'I'm really looking forward to seeing you. It's been crazy here, and I've really missed you. 'I have to run now. Adm. Boone just called, and he's about five minutes out. 'Luv, 'Harm'

He hit the encrypt/send key just as Hurricane Tom blew into his office.

1600 Local, July 23, At Sea with the 3rd MEU

The encrypted e-mail arriving tone from the computer on her desk intruded on Mac's concentration, and with poorly concealed irritation she snapped through the necessary commands to retrieve the message frankly expecting one more bureaucratic bullshit from NAVCENT or CENTCOM intelligence.

After reading the FROM line a high voltage smile lit up her entire end of the compartment.