Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.
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Episodes: Enemy Below, Critical Condition
- Rock Creek Park, Washington D.C.
There was something comforting in the steady rhythm her feet pounded on the ground. Loren inhaled deeply the fresh morning air. Once more the early exercise was clearing her thoughts for the next day ahead.
It hadn't been easy to get back on track after her mental breakdown. Mental breakdown - what an ugly word ... but unfortunately true. Of course she hadn't had much time to brood over it, considering how fast things had started to develop the following days. The search for Kabir, the long hours in the Pentagon war room...
It had helped to be involved in this group. To play a little role in saving the world. God, that sounded so pompous. But somehow these hours had given her back some of her self-confidence - of her self-respect. Of course no one there had understood her weird amusement as she had had to announce bad news - the cruise missile - and worse news - the weapon-grade uranium. But the parallels in her own life ... from bad to worse ... and always something more important or terrible around the next corner... Of course smiling had been totally inappropriate.
And now? That was a good question. She was far from feeling great or even good at the moment. She was feeling ... calm? Numb? No, numb would be the wrong word. Stable? Heavens. Maybe it was better for her sanity not to try and analyze everything - considering with how many things she would have to come to grips after this mission. Anyway she had no other choice than to keep going. If she blew her cover at least Foxhound would probably have to pay for it. And however she was feeling at the moment ... it could be worse.
Loren reached a crossing and had just turned into the right path as her cell phone rang. Surprised she slowed down. Who would call her at this time? Except for... Quickly she took the call.
"Yes?"
"Is there Miss F. R. Maine?"
Loren looked both sides and over her shoulder. "Firefighter. Mister Webb?"
"Did I wake you up?"
"No, I'm jogging."
"Kind of early, isn't it?"
"Just the right time to get my head clear."
Pause. Then: "How are you, Loren?"
She grimaced a little. "I'm dealing."
"I've heard of your good work in the Pentagon. That you've got hidden talents as a submariner."
"Thanks, but I guess that drowned in Commander Rabb's riding a dirty nuke to death. He's an amazing man," she replied with absolutely honest admiration.
"Yes, he is. But you are an amazing woman too."
A compliment?! Loren nearly coughed. What had gotten into Webb?
"You're sure you're all right?" she probed carefully. Then the not so pleasing thought hit her that Webb was probably seeing her as a ticking bomb. Was he afraid she would freak out again?
"I take it your sense of sarcasm is back in place," commented Webb dryly. "Good. You'll need it."
Loren gulped. That didn't sound good. Before she could ask Webb continued.
"There will be some fallout of the Kabir-crisis. I've received word that a Senate hearing is scheduled for today."
"Wow," she exclaimed involuntarily, "They're fast this time."
"Fast - and angry. They are not happy how everything has been handled. Nelson is in big trouble."
"It was handled successfully."
"By letting JAG take the lead. Loren, this is strictly unofficial now: Nelson isn't the only one in trouble. All the big bosses are busy looking out for themselves ... including ours. And the SecNav is in the weakest position. The major point is that the Pentagon group lacked an intelligence analyst. No CIA, no Naval Intelligence."
"Oh dear," Loren muttered slowly. She immediately noticed where Webb was heading. "I was there."
"No. Loren Singer was there. A JAG attorney."
"But-"
"And you are not a trained intelligence analyst. You are an operative. An undercover agent. And that will not change."
"That's your opinion. Secretary Nelson maybe has a different point of view." Loren shivered and proceeded down the path.
"Nelson may have his faults but he is a politician through and through. He knows the game. He may not like it especially when it turns against him. But he knows it."
Loren snorted. "Politics. That sounds-" She heard a noise through the line.
"Wait a second."
Webb's cell phone was obviously put on a hard surface then she heard him talk to another man. She tried not to listen but still caught a few words. One of them was a name: Roberts. She frowned. Somewhere a door fell shut. Steps were coming closer and something scratched on - the floor? A chair? Then she heard a muffled: "Oh God."
"Mister - Mister Webb?" She listened intently. After some long seconds the cell phone was taken up again.
"Loren?"
"I'm still here."
"Loren -" Webb sounded suddenly so tired. He started scaring her. "I just - I've just been told that... It seems a JAG officer ... has stepped on a landmine. It..."
Everything froze.
"Roberts," she whispered shocked.
"Yes," confirmed Webb quietly. Then he exploded: "Oh, darn it, Bud, couldn't you watch your step?!"
"Is - is he -?"
"I don't know. I don't know yet. I've just been told because the same helo was supposed to bring me... Oh, darn it!"
Loren already thought about something else. "Lieutenant Sims, has she been informed? What can I tell her?"
"You'll tell her nothing!" Webb immediately switched back into work mode, taking Loren by surprise.
"But- It's her husband!"
"Absolutely no! You'd have no possibility to have this information, Singer would have no possibility to have this information! Besides, at the moment we don't know anything for sure. It could be a scratch or he could be-"
"Dead?" Loren finished hoarsely. Her stomach twisted as she thought of all the things she had said and done since she had known the Lieutenant. "Someone has to tell her."
"Not you." Webb sighed. "Let's be honest, Loren. If she received the news from you what do you think would happen? This may sound cruel but any reassuring smile from you, from Singer, will be a mean smirk. Any word from you will be misinterpreted into the worst. Any consoling you may offer will be triumph."
"I-" Loren wanted to deny the truth of his words but she couldn't. Deep down she knew he was right. As honest as her regret might be, as much as she felt for both Lieutenants - she couldn't escape Singer's shadow. Whatever she said it would hurt Sims only farther. Breathing out she ran a hand through her hair.
"That's not fair." But she knew about the emptiness of her words.
"It's never fair." Webb's voice was bitter. "It's never."
- Loren's apartment, Washington D.C.
Miracles happened. Loren shut the door and leaned against it. Despite all the cruelty of life ... miracles happened. At least Roberts was alive. He had lost a leg, yes, but he was alive.
Sighing she threw her keys on the small table next to the wardrobe and walked towards the kitchen. Of course Webb had been right. Any attempt of being gentle with Lieutenant Sims had ended awful. But she hadn't been able to bear seeing her staring at this computer screen waiting for an answer that would never come. She had had to say something if only to distract her for one single moment. If only to give her someone to be angry with. She had felt so helpless. And Chegwidden had had nothing better to do than playing a trick on poor Tiner. Charge Rabb or Mackenzie with disobeying an order. As if he didn't understand why they had stayed both - and appreciated it secretly.
Still shaking her head Loren poured a glass of orange juice and drank thirstily. Well, Nelson had been less lucky. There Webb had been right too - everyone had acted in their own interest and the SecNav had gotten the short end of the stick.
She put the glass down and stared at it. At least one good thing had come out of this whole mess: Webb had been ordered back to Washington - permanently for the time being. That was a small relief.
Episode: The Promised Land
- JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, Virginia
Loren all but slammed the door of her office shut. She was nearly fuming. Such an unbelievable ignorance and prejudice! The fine son of a Reverend! Of course, if a Christian didn't talk about his religion or practice it or live it, it was perfectly all right. But if she, a Jew, did the same thing, she was trying to conceal it or hide it. As if a Jew had to experience anti-Semitic behavior to prove religiousness! What nonsense!
Scowling she paced up and down in the little space the office provided. As if her grandparents hadn't paid more than their fair share of that point. Besides, it had never been a big part of her upbringing. Her parents had taught her to see the person itself and not the religion that might or might not be practiced. And she didn't practice it for her own private reasons. Whoever wanted to know about her heritage was free to ask and then would get an honest answer. She had never heard Commander Turner ask and for sure she would never excuse herself for not running around and starting conversations with Hey, I'm Jewish and by the way my name is Loren!
Suddenly Loren couldn't help but laugh at herself. Her ranting was ridiculous; it wasn't like the Commander knew her - knew her - and if he preferred to think in fixed patterns and have such a narrow view it was just and simple his own fault. It wasn't worth getting upset about it. Shaking her head she sat down behind her desk.
Corporal Mars wasn't worth getting upset about too. She didn't like the reason for his desertion. Heck, in her situation? Yes, maybe she'd had a mental breakdown but she had stood her ground. Of course she had wrapped Singer's extraordinary talent for exaggeration around the true core and... Singer was Methodist.
A moment her hands shook so violently that she slammed them down on the tabletop to stop them. Her breath caught in her throat.
Singer - was - Methodist!
Oh - oh God, what had she done? What had she...? Almost three years she had pulled it off and now ... How could she have screwed up so badly? How could she...? Oh - oh what had she done?!
All right, calm. She had to keep calm. For a second she pressed her hands to her mouth, fighting for control. She had to think. Possibilities, what were the possibilities? She couldn't change what had happened so she had to look for an explanation. No, not she had to look for an explanation. Singer. She had to think like Singer, had to follow her intentions, her way of doing things. Singer's way of doing things. She would use any advantage she could get a hand on. Had bringing up her own religion been an advantage? Definitely yes. Only it wasn't her true religion, so that was a dead end. Singer, Singer...
Loren frowned and bit her lower lip. What if...? Would she lie to get an advantage? Would Singer pretend to be Jewish? It was in her character ... yes, she could see her doing such a thing. But would she act it out in front of Commander Turner? Had she had a choice? No, once started she'd had to stick to her story. Good. All right. There she had a point. There she had a good point. And now? Would anyone notice the discrepancy between her service record and her statement? Did anyone care? If yes fine, now she could present a reasonable explanation - spoken in Singer-terms. If not ... that wouldn't be so good. It would always be there hanging over her. Well, the only one important was Lindsey ... if no one at JAG stumbled across her lie she would have to drop a hint herself ... make a comment about Rabb ... how she had shut him up ... Lindsey would love it.
Carefully she checked over each part of her train of thought. It could work ... it could actually work.
- JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, Virginia
Well, that had gone ... horrible.
Loren watched Commander Turner's retreating back until he had left the courtroom and then exhaled the breath she had been holding. Well, the bomb had been discovered and she had done her best to put a lighted match to the fuse ... but she wasn't sure if she had managed to push Turner hard enough so he would expose her lie. Damn the man, he was much harder to see through than Rabb or Mackenzie or even Chegwidden.
Hopefully, he would tell his buddy Harm. If the rumor got around to Tiner she could be sure anyone would know within the next days. Rubbing her temple she started to follow Turner. Heck, she was actually wishing for him to make her life at JAG even worse! This mission had some strange effects on her.
At least she hoped for a life at JAG to be made even worse. She looked at the paper in her hand. Chosen as JAG for the Seahawk - ouch. Thank God Webb had called her in advance and warned her about Chegwidden's decision. She would never have been able to plaster this grin on her face if she had been caught off guard. Even if it wasn't all that out of the blue in retrospect. Just darn inconvenient.
Amazing Webb had known ... a last favor from the SecNav? Or had Naval Intelligence been good for something this time? Anyway she just hoped he'd find a way to keep her feet on solid ground. She didn't like boats.