Author's note: My computer went crazy which is why this
chapter's so incredibly late. This chapter covers 'Coming Home'
and 'Trojan Horse'. Personally, I thought 'Coming Home' was a
great episode, but in this chapter, I try to explain why they
have Harm wearing his metals at a funeral (What were they
thinking with that one?) and detail how I think Harm's plane
ride with the reporter went. If you want me to explain Bitching
Betty, Rommel Asparagus, or anything else I've thrown in here
let me know. These things really do exist so ask me about them
if you're interested. If not, write me any way and let me know
what you think of the chapter.
0042 ZULU
COMMANDER RABB'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION
Mattie's still sitting on the couch as I put away a few more things from our meal in the frig. She sounds like a lawyer more and more every day. I have no idea how we progressed from her mother's death to Mac is such short order. Not only did we jump tracks before I knew what happened, but in the process I gave her reason to believe that I don't want her and that Mac's been voicing the very same thoughts rattling around in her own head. It's been a long while since I've even admitted to myself that I still love Mac. I'm not sure why I said we're working on it when we're not. Right now friendship is the best we've been able to handle at the moment, but I'm not sure why I didn't say that to Mattie. Hell, if I was truly honest with her I would have clarified the issue and told her that while I love Mac, I'm not in love with her. I'm sure she feels the same way about me. Personally, I don't care for Mattie and Jen spilling secrets to each other about me, especially when I've done my best to help the both of them whenever they need it. I'd order Jen to knock it off, but how much worse could it get? It doesn't look like Mattie's going anywhere and I've got about an hour and a half before I need to leave for Mrs. Smithfield's place so I leave the dishes where they are to retrieve an old book from my bedroom. I'm not sure where this is going to lead, but maybe it'll answer some questions for Mattie. I grab another one on my way back. "Hey there." Mattie curls her legs up underneath herself as I sit down next to her.
"What's that?" I don't answer her question; I simply hand over one of the books. "The 1985 Naval Academy Yearbook?"
"Um-hm, my senior year." Mattie smiles as she runs her hand over the cover, begging the question she doesn't need to ask. "Go ahead."
Mattie laughs when she finally spots my picture in the senior class pages. "Oh my. Look at you. You look like a kid."
"We were kids." I barely recognize that kid anymore, so much hasn't happened to him yet. Aside from the unanswered question of his father that kid has his entire future ahead of him. Now almost twenty years later this is what he's become. There have been a lot of good times, but there have been more than enough bad ones to over shadow those examples. Mattie easily picks out Sturgis in the next page as well. I point out a few classmates of mine and mention where their careers took them. Then we move on the action photos. There's one of me playing basketball on the varsity team, another one of Sturgis running track, but the senior pictures aren't the reason I brought this book out to show Mattie. "Why are you stopping there?"
Mattie closes the book in her lap. "Why not? The rest is about all the other midshipmen."
I want Mattie to find it on her own, so I open the book to another familiar page. Half way down on the left hand page is Kate Pike's picture. I don't point her out to Mattie; I'm going to keep that one just for me, for now anyway. God is she young in that picture. I never knew her in the Academy, she was just a plebe, and I was on my way out. "Always finish a book you pick up Mattie, never quit mid way through." Mattie flips back to the third year midshipman stopping in the middle of the 'M's', I mention other friends of mine as I watch her as she turns another page, then another. She's at the tail end of the R's and the beginning of the S's. One more page, I just hope she doesn't skim over the page and miss it.
I'm staring at her pictures in my photo album when I hear Mattie gasp, she's found her. "Who is Diane Sch..."
"Schonke."
"Who is she and why does she look just like Mac?" Turn it around Mattie, why does Mac look like Diane? I probably would have ended up dating Mac within the first year of knowing her if she hadn't looked like Diane.
"A friend from the Academy." I lower the photo album for Mattie to see all her pictures. There's a lot of them in here and most of them are of the two of us doing something together. Running and softball mostly, but there's other shots with friends, her parents, my parents, miscellaneous combos of friends and such. There's more than just these here in the album, hidden pictures I show no one else. I keep them under my bed, or locked away in my closet whenever I've been serious with a woman. The one I like best is the one Grandma took of us together just before she left to join the Sea Hawk cruise already in progress. After the mess with Gunnery Sergeant Crocket the Admiral gave me a week's leave, just before I left, I tracked down Diane and asked her to come with me. It was a lucky break that she happened to have the same week off. In the picture we're on the back porch swing facing west into the setting sun and I'm holding her like I've got my whole world in my arms. Check that, I did, at the time, I had my whole world in my arms, and for a moment, life seemed ridiculously easy. She mentioned how much she loved it up there and all I can remember is telling her that I loved her. I'll never forget that smile. That warm, beautiful smile... when she looked at me like that I forgot everything else in this world. My father, Mace, the fact that my career was 180 degrees from where I wanted it to be... none of it mattered anymore so long as I had her in my arms. After that I said goodbye to the womanizing of my past, said goodbye to Maria as well. Good thing I did because I have no doubt that the Chinese would have killed her when they abducted me. The other favorite of mine is one of the two of us in the same old swing about an hour later I'd think. We're both asleep on the swing, the setting sun shining on us, her head on my chest and a small smile on her lips. After my extended tour of the Chinese military prison system, I went back up to Grandma's and that's when she gave me those pictures. Until then, I never knew they existed. I called Diane to tell her all about them. I have no idea how Grandma managed to capture a moment so perfect, so pure like she did in that first photo, but I didn't dare ask her either. Diane said she couldn't wait to see them and that's when we first started making our plans to spend the weekend together when she got back.
"A friend?" I didn't expect her to believe me and by the way her eyebrow's rising up, I doubt she ever did.
"For a long time my best friend, then she became my girlfriend."
"What happened that you aren't together now?" I can't believe she doesn't remember this story. Of course, that was a couple months ago and we haven't mentioned Diane since.
"She was murdered. She was all I ever wanted."
Mattie's face drops like I expected it would. "Harm... I'm so sorry."
"Do you remember a couple months ago I told you about her... I had to do the investigation into her death."
"Kinda, but you didn't tell me she could pass for Mac's twin." Mattie holds the photo album closer to her face to get a better look. "How long after she died did you meet Mac?"
"Six months."
"Ghost of your past come to life."
"Something like that."
Mattie closes the yearbook, but continues to leaf through the photo album. "Did you tell her?"
"She got the idea that she reminded me of someone from my past, someone who had died. Later on she saw some of these pictures."
"What did you do after you met Mac?"
"I just tried to deal with it."
"Was it hard?"
"Seeing my dead girlfriend's face on another woman? You bet it was hard."
"But eventually it got easier right?"
"Yeah over time it did."
"Was she like Mac or no?"
"Their personalities were like night and day Mattie. Diane was laid back, very kind. She had the most beautiful laugh and she was always smiling."
I can feel Mattie's eyes looking me over before she responds. "Its still hard on you isn't it?"
"Not as much any more, but I still miss her Mattie if that's what you mean. She's the only person aside from yourself that I've let inside. To really get close to me. After she died..." I can't help sighing at the thought.
"What? After she died you what?"
"I was just thinking that I sounded like Mrs. Smithfield did earlier. After Diane died, I no longer believed in miracles. My dad was gone, Diane was gone, and my career was on the line at the time. It seemed like my life was coming apart at the seems again and this time I didn't know if I'd be able to put my life back together again."
"You didn't deal with her death either did you?"
"Not really and look at what happened to me. After Diane and dad's deaths it's taken me eight years to get close to someone again."
"What happened her killer again? I know you caught on to him, but what actually happened to him?"
I'm going to tell her, I'm going to tell her everything and let the chips fall where they may. "Mattie this is one of those things I need you to keep a secret okay?"
"I promise I won't tell Jen."
"You can't tell anyone Mattie... I could get in a lot of trouble if you did."
Mattie's eyes widen, but she gamely nods at me to continue although I wonder how eager she is to hear it any more. Another quick visit to my closet and I've got the shoebox full of our letters. "About two years after her death I was rereading all of our letters when I stumbled upon this." I hand her the letter, it has a number of watermarks on it after Holbarth threw it on the ground, but its still legible. I had to keep it; I couldn't bear to part with it.
Mattie reads it, but I doubt she's making the connections. "I don't understand."
"Diane's XO killed her to prevent her from ruining his career."
She tries playing it cool, but I could detect the tremor in her voice when she sees the rage flashing in my eyes. "What did you do Harm?"
"What do you think I did? I loaded up my side arm and tracked him down."
The gasp from Mattie had to be audible all the way into Jen and Mattie's place. "You killed him?"
"I was going to."
"What stopped you?"
"Mac showed up. I'd told her the whole story that night and even though I threw her off my trail, she and Bud followed me to Norfolk."
"So what happened to Commander Holbarth?"
"Mac ended up in one of Harriet's Naval uniforms and when she came through the mist calling my name..."
"And Holbarth thought he saw a ghost didn't he?" It's unbelievable how smart my little girl is.
"And fell between the dock and his boat's hull. He was crushed to death."
Mattie digests all of that before looking me squarely in the eyes. I know the question she's about to ask. "Would you have killed him if he hadn't fell?"
"Yes."
Mattie sits there in what I'm guessing is a stunned silence. "Yes?" Isn't that what I just said?
"He killed the love of my life Mattie. I wasn't about to let that go unpunished."
"But that would've lowered you to his level Harm. Not to mention your life would have been over. Did you ever think about that?"
"Mattie there's a lot of things you don't think about when you're bent on killing someone."
Mattie takes one last look at the photo album before closing it shut. "Does Mac think you were going to kill him?"
"I don't know."
"Lucky she was there. Did you ever thank her for that?"
"I kissed her, does that count?"
I can see a small smile building on her face. "On the cheek?" Please, that's for first dates and casual friends.
"On the lips."
"Well if it was only a peck..."
Why not, lets pour some more gas on the fire. "It was a long, slow kiss."
Her smile's running at full power now and her eyes are wide open. "And she returned it?"
"Oh yeah." That was a great kiss.
"What happened that you didn't start dating her right then and there?"
"She told me that she understood I was kissing Diane, not her."
"Were you!?" Good grief, I didn't expect her to get this fired up about it. Of course teenage girls and romance, what the hell was I thinking that she wouldn't be?
"Of course not. Do you really believe I lead myself into thinking I was kissing a ghost." A ghost would have been wearing Lieutenant's bars and she would have smiled at me. Her kiss would have been different too, sweeter somehow, or maybe it's because she's my lost love that I think that way.
"Did you correct her?"
"No."
"What do you mean no? Why not?"
"Well for a long time I figured it was her way of letting me down easy."
Mattie shakes her head, hands me the books, and gets up off the couch. "You were an idiot Harm for ever letting her go."
I don't have an immediate response for that as Mattie leaves and heads over to her place, but eventually the words come. "I know." She can't hear that, but she doesn't need to, to know it.
1613 ZULU NAS PAX RIVER
PATUXENT RIVER, MARYLAND
God, what a beautiful day to be flying. I'm still sitting in the wardroom waiting for Sean Parker to finish up with his flight familiarization training. He passed his flight physical yesterday. Of course, it took a half a dozen flight waivers for him to pass, but hey, who's counting right? Its ten minutes before he comes in following an Ensign who gives me a sadistic grin. He knows exactly what I'm going to do to our ground dweller here. "Sean, how are you?"
"I'm ready to go flying, when do we go?"
"We'll talk off as soon as you're geared up and good to go."
"Well what are we waiting for?"
Almost an hour later Sean and I are strapped in our ride following a pair of Super Hornets as we taxi to the end of our designated runway. I turn us slightly to one side to allow Sean a better view as the Hornets power up and race down the runway. Despite what I'm about to do to him, there's no reason his entire experience needs to be bad. "Tower this is Tomcat 481 on runway three-six requesting permission to take off." Looking back, I can see Sean's head turning side to side as he tires to take everything in. It won't be long before his only view, will that of a rapidly filling barf bag.
"481, permission granted on runway three-six."
I'm just about to throttle up when Sean starts up again with the questions. "Why is it so hot in here?"
"Trust me at thirty thousand feet you'll be glad for it." He'll be damning me for it too if he ever catches on to what I'm really doing to him. I only told Chuck DePalma what the CAG did to him because he was ex Special Forces. The jackass sitting behind me is just a headline chaser and doesn't deserve that kind of information or respect. He doesn't give a damn about the people those stories of his are impacting.
Sean bitches again as I align us with the runway. "Can't my seat raise up any higher? Your chair's blocking my view."
My chair is blocking your view? What an ass. "No, they're not adjustable. Now is there anything else or can we go flying now?"
"You're the pilot." Damn right. I don't look back as we talk off, but I imagine Sean's head is on a swivel. That's going to make this a whole easier. Pulling back on the stick we climb to four thousand feet before he knows what hit him. "Whoa."
"That's about four G's." I let him recover from that as I turn us heading northeast. We're still climbing, but not at our previous rate. I don't want to end this flight that early. "Tower is Tomcat 481, bearing zero-four-niner for op-sec five. Proceeding to alpha one run at angels thirty, over."
"Roger 481, have fun."
"What was all that about?"
If he keeps up with all this talking, I'm going to start calling him Bitching Betty. Maybe if I hit him with a few more G's he'll shut up. "We're heading to operational sector five and beginning with a supersonic run at thirty thousand feet." We're just passing angels ten and I'm not interesting in listening to him talk anymore so I pull back on the stick. I've only added about two G's, but it's enough to shut him up for now. He likes to hear himself talk far too much anyway and besides, I want to be at thirty thousand as soon as we enter our operating area. Ten minutes later, we've finally entered our operating zone. "You all strapped in back there?"
"Yes."
"Got your mask on?"
"Do now." Did miss something where I said he could take it off at all?
"Alright here we go." I love the look in his eyes as I shove the throttle forward. There's no room for anything else except a healthy mix of fear and adrenalin in his eyes when he feels our bird accelerate to eleven hundred miles an hour.
As soon as he recovers from the initial rush of our burst of speed, he starts chattering away like a monkey in a tree. "Whoa! That was awesome!" News reporter, lawyer, whatever; it doesn't matter what a man does for a living. Everyone breaks down into the simplest speech patterns when they're doing something this cool. "Let's do that again." See what I mean?
"No the afterburners burn too much fuel running super sonic like this, we've got to slow down or we'll run out too soon." Now I'm going to get nasty on his ass. "Would you like to know what air to air combat is really like?"
"Have you seen any?"
"Sure, over Libya I splashed a MIG and disabled another." I could add Russia and Cuba to that list, but then again I was really just a flying target in each case. I didn't have anything to fight back with.
"Then let's go." I proceed from one maneuver to the next as I add commentary throughout the entire thing. In reality, I didn't use a quarter of all these moves as I throw hammerheads, snap rolls, wingovers, and Emmelman turns among others at him. He looks green by the time I level us off.
"You okay back there?" I only ask to prove that I was concerned for his well being at one point or another during the flight.
"Fine." Well he's at least trying to gut it out, but I'd respect him a lot more if he'd admit that he's in way over his head.
"Okay, get that nickel handy, cause here comes the negative G's." I slow us down to five hundred knots and then thrust the stick forward. Even my gut doesn't like doing this, but I can guarantee his will dislike it even more. In the back seat, it isn't long before I hear a lot of rustling around. I manage to look back in time to see Sean puking into his bag. I level us out at angels twenty before doing it again. "I didn't hear any pictures. We'll try it one more time in case you didn't get it." Sean barely starts to protest before we plunge again. By the end of the second run, we're at seventeen thousand feet and Sean's busy filling the second bag. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Sean gives me a weak smile and a thumbs up. "I'm doing better now, but no more negative G's."
"Did you get your picture?"
"No, let's go home."
"Already?"
"Yeah, I don't know how much more of this I can take." Finally.
"Do you have those bags secured, I don't want a mess in here." I only ask because of what I'm about to do to him.
"They're good to go."
"Good, then we'll head home." Before he can react, I snap us over and pull out a split S. I know based on how my body's reacting that we're pulling eight and a half to nine G's. Looking back at Sean I can see that he's passed out. Due to his weakened condition, his less than stellar physical shape, and the fact that his mask's off. It'll take him a few minutes to wake up. "Good night sweet prince."
Sean didn't really wake up until we were in our landing pattern, I wouldn't let him. As soon as he started coming around, I'd crank up the G's and put him under. He didn't say anything until we were on final approach and even that was little more than a moan. I'm sure that'll change as soon as we're on terra firma. As soon as we've stopped, powered down and the plane captain helps him down he starts bitching at me as I climb down as well. "What the hell was that all about!?"
"That was for the Smithfield's and every other family you've harassed about losing a loved one in Iraq. Your problems don't even rate Sean. Those young Marines and Soldiers patrolling the streets, trying to stay alive; they, have problems. The biggest question you face is where is your next caffeine fix coming from. You want to the right to tell the story the way you want to tell it? Grab a helmet and a flak jacket and follow a platoon of Marines around in a forward combat zone for a few weeks. Witness their sacrifice, their courage, and their dedication and then you can print whatever the hell you feel like printing. I think you'll find that you'll be a better reporter for it too."
"Don't tell me what to do Rabb."
"Don't you ever harass another family like that again Sean. Their loss has given them the right to tell their story anyway they choose. You have no rights in that regard except to politely take their story and offer your deepest consolations. Whether that story fits your purpose or not is irrelevant."
I think the fact that he's surrounded by several enlisted personnel attending to the plane as well as the young Ensign who's here to help him change out of his gear is helping my words sink in. "When can I talk to her Harm?"
"Mrs. Smithfield has asked me to tell you that she would be happy to discuss her son with for the record after the funeral."
Sean nods weakly. "I'll see you after it then."
Sean starts to follows the Ensign away before I stop him. "Sean?"
"Yeah?"
"I think it would be a nice gesture on your part if you attended the funeral. Show the Smithfield's that you care more than just about your story." Sean only nods as he walks away. Looking over at the plane crew going over the Tomcat, they're all smiles whenever they look back at me. They heard every word and I know they couldn't agree more.
1629 ZULU
THE FIRE HEARTH RESTAURANT
ARLINGTON, VIRGINA
We've been sitting here for the better part of an hour before Mrs. Smithfield comes walking in through the door. Her uncle gave Susan a ride here for the meal after the funeral. I couldn't have been more proud of Mattie today. I wasn't sure how she'd react to everything. I didn't see her during the wake and we didn't talk about it afterwards, but she really proved her mettle today. Mrs. Smithfield looks somewhat at peace considering everything she's been through. "How'd it go?"
She glances at the metals on my chest and I really wish she wouldn't. I forgot my damn ribbons in my locker in the officer's club at the Washington Naval Yard and I left them there after I finished lifting. It wasn't until I brought out my dress whites that I remembered where they were and started swearing about it. I didn't have time to run and get them and the only thing I could think off was to pin the metals on. I felt incredibly out of place with them on. Just about everybody there gave me a weird look at one time or another, especially her uncle. "Really well. Thank you."
"For what?"
"Mr. Parker told me about the flight you took with him and the verbal lashing you gave him afterwards." Good. I don't think it could have worked out any better. When she notices my smile, she smiles back in question. "What?"
"I was just thinking how pleased I am that at least this small part well it worked out as well as it did. I honestly didn't know if he'd come around to our way of thinking or not."
"I really can't tell you how much that meant to me Commander."
"Well I'm glad I could help."
"Do you mind if I ask you something personal?"
"Sure".
"Don't take this the wrong way, but this whole time I've gotten the feeling that you've done this before." I suppose I should have seen this coming. Frankly, that's a sick feeling knowing that I've done this so many times before it's becoming second nature to me and others notice it.
I gesture her to a bar stool and she sits down. Pulling my own stool back, I'm not sure of what I'm going to tell her. "Many times; too many times."
"People close to you?"
"My dad, my girlfriend, some of my best friends from the Academy and flight school."
"Vietnam?"
This is so much easier because she understands. "Shot down Christmas Eve 1969."
Her mouth goes slightly agape as she tries to understand what that must have been like for a five-year-old boy. "You were trying to be strong for your mother weren't you." She knows all too well.
"Yeah."
"Joe tried doing the same for me when my husband died." I'm glad she isn't questioning the fact that he's dead. That's a story too long for the time we have here today. Of course, she has no reason to believe otherwise.
"It wasn't just for mom. I wanted my Grandma to see that mom was just as tough as her."
"Why?"
"My Grandma lost her husband to a war as well. I wanted her to see how strong mom really was." I know she can appreciate the similarity.
"Your dad was an only child wasn't he?"
"As am I."
"And your girlfriend?"
"One of my best friends from the Academy." I'm not going to get into how she died with her.
"Can I ask..." When she sees me pretending to be more interested in my drink she stops there. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."
"Its okay, she was the love of my life and I..." No, I'm not going to finish that. I'm going to leave it at that and hope she understands. Given her circumstances she has as much right to know as anybody else and if it had been anybody else other than Diane, I'd tell her too.
"You don't really know how to deal with death do you?" Now there's a first. No one's ever told me that before and I'm sure my face reflects it.
"What makes you say that?"
"Because you're great at helping others, but I get the feeling you're not so great at helping yourself."
"One of the things I've been told repeatedly by the people who know me well; some more bluntly than others, is that I'm driven by my emotions. I guess I can't help myself, I see someone in need, and I have to help. I promised myself if I had the chance to spare someone the pain I'd felt in my life I'd do it."
"But there more isn't there. You put up walls to protect yourself from your own emotions when the pain's too close or too much to bare."
"I suppose so." Looking at her, she gives me a small smile. "How did you know that?"
"I know the type; my husband was a lot like that."
I try to laugh it off, but I find that I can't. "What can I say? We're military men."
"That doesn't mean we expect you to be inhuman."
"I know." Time to change the subject; I'm tired of talking about me. "I wanted to thank you as well."
I can tell that has peaked her curiosity a bit. "For what?"
"For your advice about Mattie. I'm glad to know that I'm not the screw up I thought I was."
To this she just laughs. "They're kids, no one's expected to be the perfect parent."
"Try telling that to the Family and Social Services people."
We both know she doesn't have anything to say about that so she only shrugs. "Do you have permanent custody of her now?"
"Temporary only. The judge is going to make a final ruling in a month."
"You're afraid of losing her aren't you?"
"Wouldn't you be? I love Mattie." That came out a little harder than I intended, but she understands.
"Of course, but I think they'd be a fool to take her away from you."
A lot of people have said that still, I can't help the slight chuckle. "Can I use you as a character reference?"
She looks a little shocked by that, but then she shocks me in return with her response. "When do you need me?"
Still slightly stunned by that; I'm just about to answer her when my cell rings, by the caller ID I can see its someone at JAG on the line. "Excuse me, I better get this; hello?"
"Commander Rabb?"
"Petty Office Coates? What's going on?"
"I need you to hold for the Admiral sir." I'm not going to like this. The Admiral knew what I was doing today. Whatever this is, its important enough to call me in the middle of all this. Either something big just happened or I'm going to be packing a bag.
"Commander."
"Sir?"
"How was the funeral?"
"As well as could be expected sir."
"Indeed, look I've been asked to supply a JAG officer to Afghanistan to modify the rules of engagement for limited and otherwise special circumstances and you're up." Shit, this is what I get for having a near empty plate. "You're flying out of Andrews at 0800 tomorrow, Petty Officer Coates will have all your travel arrangements made for you. Be here before the end of the day for your briefing and to update Mac and Roberts concerning your case files, understood Commander?
"Yes sir"
"You should expect to be gone two, maybe three weeks at least so make whatever arrangements you have to Commander."
"Yes sir, goodbye sir."
Hanging up the phone, my sigh tells her everything she needs to know. "You have to leave don't you?" I silently nod, hating the Admiral for forcing me to cut our time together short. There's so much that I could've learned from her. "Where?"
"Afghanistan, I leave tomorrow."
Her eyes widen at the mention of my destination, but otherwise she's unaffected. "How long are you going to be gone?"
"A few weeks, I'm not exactly sure. I'm going to collect Mattie and we'll be on our way."
She hops off her stool as soon as I climb off mine, pulling me into a hug and giving me kiss on the cheek. "Take care of yourself over there Harmon Rabb. I don't want to attend another funeral."
I release her and pay for our drinks at the bar. I'm actually very touched she thinks enough of me that she'd even want attend. "I will." Turning around I spot Mattie talking with Susan in a corner of the restaurant. I can only hope she'll be as understanding as the woman I've just came from.
1255 ZULU
MARINE ADVANCED CAMP
FIFTY MILES NORTH OF KABUL, AFGHANISTAN
TWO WEEKS LATER
This is so boring. I've been stuck here two weeks and I don't know why. The Rangers and Marines here know what the hell they're doing. I've spent the bulk of my free time, fighting with a West Point Army Lieutenant Colonel. That is to say; when we haven't been advising our respective Commanders on the ground anyway. Lately we've been bitching about last year's Army-Navy game. Naturally, they'd stick to Academy graduates together. I swear if I didn't know any better, I'd think the Army and Marine Generals running the show here threw us together just to see what would happen. I'm tried of dealing with captured Taliban and al-Qaeda fighters as well. All they do is swear and spit at me, I can't tell you how badly I've wanted to beat the shit out of them. "Commander Rabb?"
Looking up from my tiny, little table the Marines like to call a desk, I see a Corporal standing in my doorway. "Yes?"
"Urgent message from the Wake Island sir."
"Thank you Corporal, carry on."
"Aye sir." Reading the message it doesn't take me long to realize that this letter is going to be my salvation. I manage to secure any sensitive papers I have laying around before sprinting over to Colonel Hamilton, the base CO currently over at the camp's HQ.
"Commander what can I do for you?"
"Sir the Wake Island just called from the Arabian Sea. There's going to be drug seizure and I need to be there to ensure everything's done by the book and to maintain the chain of custody."
"What's the source of the information leading us to this seizure?"
"Unknown sir, I was under the impression I'll be debriefed on my way there."
"A junior officer can't handle something like this?"
"Sir you know as well as I do that the world is watching our activities in this type of regard. We need to have an experienced, senior officer taking point in all of this."
The Colonel doesn't respond to that, instead he walks over to one of his radio operators, "Sergeant, get through to the flight line and tell them to prep our reserve 53, we need to make an additional flight."
The Colonel flashes a smile at me when he turns around. I've actually serving under his command and I like to think he enjoys having a JAG that's seen combat, a lot of it and that can give him not only sound, but sensible advise on how to proceed. "Thank you for doing this sir."
"You're a hell of a warrior Harm. If you were just another JAG, I'd tell you to forget about it. That said I expect to get you back when you're done." I just smile back as I shake his hand. "You've got fifteen minutes before that bird's ready to fly. You better secure your shit and get your ass in gear."
"Roger that sir!" As soon as I'm through the tent flaps, I'm sprinting for my quarters.
Ten minutes later, I'm on the flight line throwing my sea bag into the Sea Stallion waiting for me. The other package in my hand I take better care of. It's for Mattie and I'm going to send it to her from the Wake Island instead of Afghanistan. This way my mail actually has a chance of beating me home. As soon as we're airborne, they put me on the horn to the Wake Island. "Commander Rabb? This is Captain Westfall."
"Right here sir. Where do we stand?"
"AWACS has picked up our suspected tanker on radar and we're presently 515 knots due East of our suspected target."
"SEAL incursion sir?"
"Very good Commander, they're briefing as we speak."
"Sir I estimate it'll take me a little over three hours to reach you, but I need to be on the first flight to our target. If there are drugs on board I need to maintain..."
"The chain of custody, I know the drill the Commander."
"Yes sir, as well as interrogate any detainees we might have."
"By the time you land we'll be launching the SEALs in a CH-53 echo. We're giving them a thirty-minute head start before launching another 53 as well as an accompanying 46. That should give you enough time to arm yourself and contact anyone you feel you need to."
"I need to get in touch with the SEAL Commander as well sir."
"We'll put you in touch before they leave."
"That'd be great skipper, thank you." Leaning back in my chair, I close my eyes as the call to the Wake Forest is cut out. It feels so good to be back in the thick of things again. As many times as I might try to deign it to Mattie or anyone else for that matter, I really am an adrenalin junkie. I love this shit.
"Tired sir?"
Opening my eyes, I look over at the crew chief who's regarding me rather intently. "No Staff Sergeant, just happy to be getting back into the action."
"I hear that sir."
"Have you seen any recently?"
"We took some sporadic ground fire last week while we were picking up a squad of Marines."
"Everybody make it back alright?"
"Oh yeah, the SAW does a great job of keeping the enemy pinned down."
"How long have you been here?"
"Eight months sir."
"Long time."
"Yes sir, hopefully I'll be rotating out of here with my unit in four months."
"Thank God for e-mail when you can reach a computer huh?"
"Yes sir, when I can find the time or actually sit down at a computer that's unused. I call every once in a while, but the bulk is done through letters."
"That can take awhile."
"Yes sir, but I'm hoping you could shorten the trip for me."
"Letter or package?"
"Letter sir, to my girlfriend."
"Love her?"
"Very much sir."
"How long have you been seeing her?"
"About a year before I deployed sir. I'm going marry her sir."
"You might want to ask her before you do it."
"She already knows sir. I told her when I left I was going to propose when I came back." I figure with all the money I've been saving up I'll be able to buy her a nice ring and set aside a nice chunk of change for a down payment on a house."
"I'll bet she misses you."
"She writes every week sir. I promised her a baby before I do something like this again."
"I'll be more than happy to carry your letter."
He has just enough time to dig out the letter and hand it over, responding before the Captain flying the helo asks for him. "Thank you sir."
1643 ZULU
U.S.S WAKE ISLAND
NORTHWEST ARABIAN SEA
I'm not sure how I did it, but I managed to get about an hour of sleep before we touched down on the Wake Forest. I wasn't especially tired, but this could turn out to be a long night, followed by a long day as well. Twenty or thirty hours from now, I might be wishing for that hour if I haven't slept by that time. Personally, I've never cared for LHA's that much. They always seemed like carrier wannabes to me. At least they have some one to greet you when you land like a carrier. "Commander Rabb?" I returned the Chief's salute as I climb out of the Stallion and head for the island. "The Captain wants you to gear up and be back here in ten."
Looking over I can see another 53 powering up to take off. I'm guessing that's our SEAL team. "Lead the way chief."
I'm wearing my desert BDU's with my gun and pack when I climb into my new ride. The crew chief hands me a headset as soon as I strap myself in. "The Captain's on the horn for you Commander."
"This is Commander Rabb sir."
"You ready to go?"
"Yes sir, do we have anymore intelligence on our target?"
"Nothing we didn't have an hour ago. You and a small boarding party will fast rope down to the tanker to provide the SEAL's with additional support." Well that explains the other six guys in here with me. "There will be an accompanying CH-46 waiting on standby ten miles from the ship. When you rope down radio back and let the cargo loaders hoist it out of there."
"Sir I'll need an interpreter as well."
"Find Petty Officer Grant in the boarding party, he'll translate for you. Your bird will remain on standby to take the prisoners back to the Wake Island as soon as you're through with them. Good luck Commander."
"Thank you sir." During the flight, I had a chance to talk to Lieutenant Williams; the SEAL team commander to go over our objectives. Between him, finding Petty Officer Grant, and stuffing about four power bars in my face the flight doesn't take that long. The last thing I want is to be caught in a firefight with a radio in my hand instead of my gun so I radio the 46 as we come into a hover over the freighter. I'm the fourth man out the door when we reach the cargo ship. Ditching my repelling rig, I pull my Beretta and move forward with the team to the bridge. There we find two SEALs holding three men at gunpoint. "Who are they?"
One of the two SEALs turns around to answer me. "Sir this man claims he's the captain. These other two were detained in their quarters." He speaks English? That'll make this easier.
"KIA?"
"Three so far sir, but I'm sure there'll be more."
"Alright Grant, you're with me. The rest of you head out with the SEAL team and finish mopping up. Following that prep a spot on either the bow or the fantail for that Super Stallion to land." More shots ring out as they leave the bridge proving the ship hasn't entirely been secured yet. "Grant, cuff those two to the bulk head we'll start with the Captain."
"Aye sir." He knows what I'm asking. None of these prisoners are restrained. Almost predictably, the first one fights him all the way.
I can only watch for only brief moment before I'm already fed up with this shit. I can't cover these two and threaten Grant's man with only one gun so I pull Grant's sidearm as well and press the muzzle up to the third man's temple in the middle of the struggle. He freezes in the next instant, people tend to do that when they realize the hammer's been cocked. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way." I swear if the bastard so much as twitches I'm going to pistol whip the shit out of him. That's the hard way; the easy way is simply to shoot the fucker. Grant quickly secures him and the next man to the bulkhead. We're only been interviewing the Captain in his cabin for about five minutes when Lieutenant Williams comes in with another prisoner. "Just secure him to the bulkhead with the rest Lieutenant."
"I think you might want to talk to this one sir."
"Who is this?"
"My name is Officer Simon Tanveer, I'm MI-6." That's a new one; I never heard that excuse before.
I can't help the laughter that spills out of me. "Sure you are."
"Who do you think called in your strike?" And that's where the laughing stops.
This is going to take some time. "Grant, stay here and watch the good Captain." I pick up my pack and stare the Captain in the eyes. "Don't do anything stupid and he won't have reason to shoot your ass understand?"
"Perfectly." He's not going to try anything. In fact, I'd swear this guy's glad he got caught.
I lead us back up to the bridge before I turn to face 'Simon' or whatever his name is and the Lieutenant. "Prove you are who you say you are."
"I've got my ID in my pocket."
Patting him down, I find which one and dig out his ID cards. Something doesn't seem right about all this. "You're playing a dangerous game keeping your true identity in your pocket if you're really an undercover spy."
"I got the crew drunk before you arrived, I figured it was worth the risk to keep it on me when you Yanks finally got here."
I walk over to the other side of the bridge where the lighting's much better. Simon's grinning at me as I hold hid ID up to the light. He probably thinks I don't know what I'm doing. I'll let him think that too. While they're not exactly the same, MI- 6's ID cards have enough in common with our CIA tags for me to be able to spot a fake and this is the genuine article. That's just wonderful, I've dealt with these guys before. Some of them are alright, but most of them are just a pain in the ass. "Let him go Lieutenant."
"Sir?"
I hand Simon back his ID. "He is who he says he is. Did you find the drugs yet?"
"They're in the forward cargo hold."
"Okay head back to the cargo hold and secure the drugs, the 46 and her crew are arriving as we speak. Once the cargo and detainees are secured we'll radio for our ride out of here."
"Roger that sir." As I watch the two of them disappear into the corridor I can't help but think how lucky I am that this whole operation has gone so smoothly. I just want to get this over with, put in my time in Afghanistan, and get home to Mattie.
0903 ZULU
U.S.S WAKE ISLAND
NORTHWEST ARABIAN SEA
It takes Mac about an hour to find me holed up in a quiet berthing of the boat in the middle of my conversation. Truth is I didn't want to be found. Not after Mac's comment of seeing me through all of my girlfriends of the past eight years. Webb must have told her things weren't working out between Catherine and myself. We didn't really 'break up', but with the constant tension between Mattie and Catherine along with her newborn baby girl, a little sweetheart she named Belinda, it's was just too much for both of us to deal with. Even though I don't think there's any hope for a romantic relationship between us anymore I still stop by and help her out when I can. If I didn't have Mattie, I'm certain I could have been a wonderful father for that little girl. Mac waves her hand at me to get my attention, I wave back, but I'm not through with my conversation. I'm not sure why she's bothered to track me down when she could be getting more answers from Webb's British half before he's hauled off to London and punished. "I love you too."
Mac watches as I end my call before commenting. "Mattie?"
I sigh as I slip my phone into my pants pocket. "No, my mom. I never got the chance to call her on mother's day. Then when I shipped out I was a little too busy arranging things for Mattie. I just wanted to call her and tell her how much I loved her. I didn't want mom to end up like Mrs. Smithfield and my Grandma did you know? Losing their husbands and sons without hearing them say I love you one more time." Mattie and I visited her mother's grave on Mother's day. She cried nearly the entire time, but I think it was a real turning point for her. I don't know what Susan and Mattie talked about while we were at their house, but whatever it was it sure helped.
"Harm I doubt you're going to be in any real danger here on the LHA."
"No, but I spent two weeks in country before you got out here. I could've ended up in another mine field or... well I guess you'd have to be a parent to understand." Normally I'd feel a bit guilty about pointing out what I have in my life that she doesn't; a daughter, a mother who loves me and I her, but I seem to be picking fights with everybody this week so why stop now? "Anyway, what's up?"
"Up?"
"I came down here to be alone while I made this call, I figured there had to be a reason why you'd track me down."
Mac shakes her head like she's trying to remember why she came in the first place. "Oh, um, Chegwidden called."
"Has he regained his sanity?"
"And probably lost more hair in the process." That's good for a laugh before she continues. "No I got my recall orders back home. I'm getting a lift to Bahrain tomorrow morning at 0730."
"I don't suppose he said anything about me and when I might be coming home."
"Sorry I think you're stuck here for the duration." No, she's not. It's really for the best anyway; the two of us stuck on a helo together and then a plane ride half way around the world together... I doubt it would be for the best of either of us.
"Damn, look I've got a package I'd like to send to Mattie, would you mind taking it back for me? Just give it to Jen and she'll take it from there. Oh, there's a letter a friend of mine wants to send too if you don't mind."
"Jen? You sound like Bud."
"I really hope I don't sound that awkward all the time."
Mac jabs in the shoulder for that one. "He isn't like that anymore and you know it."
"I know, so what's your point? She's practically become my little sister by association. So what if I call her Jen occasionally?" Well let's be fair about it, she's 'Jen' only when it's convenient for me. When Mattie told me they talk about me all the time, it's easy to tack on her title and last name to distance myself from her. Thankfully, that's an occasion that is quickly becoming more and more rare.
Mac holds her hands up in defense. "Nothing I didn't mean anything by it. I just thought it was odd is all. So what's in the package?"
"A kilo of heroin." I laugh, but Mac doesn't. "Come on that was funny."
She still doesn't look that amused. "What's in the package?"
"Um there's a digital camera in there. I filled up both memory cards and the pictures are too big to send her as attachments so I'd like to just send the entire thing home. I also bought her a cream colored silk scarf from a local dealer and a braided silver necklace."
"How did you manage to go shopping way the hell out here?"
"If you know who to talk to Mac you can get anything out here."
"Do I want to know how you managed to accomplish that?"
"Probably not."
Mac sighs and sits down on the stairs. "I'll deliver your package to Mattie if you tell why you were constantly fighting with Simon."
"I should have figured you were on a first name basis already."
"Answer the question Harm."
"Lets just say I have a problem with his kind."
"You used to be his kind."
"No, not that. MI6, I don't like them."
"Why not?"
"Lets just say that my run-ins with them have been less than positive experiences and no I can't talk about it."
"Well that's convenient."
"Is that what you say to Webb when he tells you he can't tell you what he's been up to?" I would've loved to have been a fly on the wall for some of the questions Mac threw at our in house James Bond. I'll bet a lot of it had to do with the lifestyle and what that lifestyle ends up doing to the man in question. I spent enough time with field agents that I've got a pretty good grasp of the kind of answers Mac's likely to receive and based on what I know about Webb, the kind of responses Mac had to give. Well at least if she was being honest with herself. I know he's drinking more and has been for some time. I'm curious how Mac's been dealing with that. I know she hasn't been drinking, I've never doubted her sobriety.
"Clay lays out what happened without being specific." I'll bet he doesn't, but I'll play along with her for now.
"Okay, I was sent somewhere to pick up some people who were carrying a package we had to get out of there. Two men died, and I had to hump it out over 100 miles to steal something to be rescued myself with the package intact. The point being that MI6 fucked me over for the entire mission and it wasn't the first time. Good enough?"
"For now." What she going to do ask Webb for the details? He'll never tell her what I was doing deep in the heart of the Congo. The two men were MI6 agents, but I didn't find out until it was too late that one of them had flipped and was working for some faction within the government. The bastard lined the runway with Rommel asparagus and I didn't see them until it was too late. They were short and I was landing into the sun. I hit one and the damn thing blew off one of the wings of the twin engine Piper I was flying in from South Africa. Once his partner pulled me from the wreckage, he turned around and shot the son of a bitch in the head before I got the chance to. Turns out MI6 knew he'd flipped and instead of sending in one of their own pilots into danger, they asked us for a little professional courtesy. By that time we had a company sized element hot on our sixes so we made for the west coast. The agent never told me his real name, and I never found out either, he just kept calling me Yank so I called him Brit in response. I ended up taking the package from him when he was killed by a mortar blast. Being in those jungles made me feel sixteen all over again. Stryker would have been proud. After the other guy died, I lost my pursuers easily. It wasn't hard; I simply went into sniper mode and disappeared. They sent out advanced scouts with radios and one did get within ten feet of my position. I could have killed him easily, but I thought it best that he radio back saying that he couldn't find any sign of me. I reached the coast about a week later, stole a boat, sailed out into international waters, and activated the emergency beacon I'd ripped out of the plane. I was expecting some sort of air rescue, but instead a fast attack submarine picked me up. I handed the package over to the Agency first of course, I think they eventually handed it over to MI6, but I was never told what was in that case.
Mac shakes my shoulder before I look her in the eyes. "Thanks for rejoining us."
I shake my head to get those images out of my head. "Sorry, just reliving the mission for a while there."
"Was it good or bad?" Rarely is the mission ever good.
"Very bad."
"How bad?"
"Lucky to be alive bad."
"Well you are the luckiest man I know." I really don't need to be reminded of that. Sometimes I wonder when I'm going to finally buy the farm. When I start thinking like that, I quickly dismiss it the idea. The last thing a fighter pilot or spook wants to consider is that his luck's about to run out. Tell a hundred fighter pilots that 99 percent of them aren't expected to survive the mission they're being sent out on and they'll look around at all their fellow pilots and think, 'You poor bastards.'
"I make my own luck Mac." I think a friend of mine once said, 'Chance favors the prepared mind'. Personally, I think he got it from movie or something, but essentially its true. My training and quick thinking has allowed me to survive almost all of the life or death situations I've been in. When that hasn't been enough, I've been lucky to have good people watching my back. Mac, Meg, Bud, the Admiral; they've all been there to save my ass at one time or another.
"You're own bad luck too."
What the hell's that supposed to mean? I stare at her for a moment before an example comes to mind. "You mean the Singer trial."
"Among other things yes."
"What other things?"
"Well why don't we talk about the verbal lashing you received due to the slugs buried in the ceiling of courtroom four."
"That made the difference between a man losing his career and his life forever and walking away a free man. I'd do it again if I had to."
"What about your little Tiger cruise adventure with Josh Pendry?"
"I didn't invite those Cubans aboard."
"Maybe not, but you sure as hell scuttled your chances with Annie." Does it really matter any more? It wouldn't have lasted anyway.
I feel like Mattie rolling my eyes at her like this. "Please you can come up with a better example than that can't you? Annie was going to end it no matter what I did or didn't do with Josh. At least I gave the kid a normal life if even for a short while."
Mac tilts her head at me and I'd swear she's dying to stick to me. "Your flying cost you Jordan and your lead feet cost you Renee." Doesn't she mean it cost me her?
Okay, if that's the way she wants to play it, I'll play. "And where exactly did I go wrong that Diane was taken from me?"
Mac incessant staring stops when I mention Diane's name and her voice has a much quieter tone. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Well maybe you think it was her fault then."
"It wasn't her fault either Harm, obviously she wasn't supposed to die, but she did."
"Then please don't lump my accomplishments or failures, my gains and losses into such simplified categories like good or bad luck."
"I'm sorry Harm."
"About the package?"
"I'll take it. Who's the letter for?"
"A Marine Staff Sergeant, it's for the woman he loves back home."
"Who'd a thought it? You're a hopeless romantic."
If she was trying to get me to smile it worked. "Keep that to yourself, I'd hate for that sort of thing to get out. Jet jocks have an image to uphold you know."
Mac smiles, but I sense she's biting back a comment. I probably don't want to know what that might be either. "What about Navy JAG's."
This game is almost amusing. "Well I'm not really sure, but I think they're allowed to let that sort of thing out. I mean look at Bud, too bad I'm not just a JAG."
A game shouldn't be putting a look like that on Mac's face. "So you see yourself as a pilot first, lawyer second?" Uh-oh, she thinks I mean that I'm on a different team than she is.
"Merely a pilot who also happens to be a lawyer Mac. I was born and bred to be pilot, you know that." At least she should anyway.
"So you don't like being a lawyer?"
"No I do, but when you ask me what am I passionate about, I don't think there's a doubt in anyone's mind where my loyalties lie."
"I suppose I do." She probably hates me for it too.
"Look I'm hungry, you wanna get something to eat?"
"Tell why I should suffer through one more second of the mess's cooking than absolutely necessary?"
"Because then you can tell your partner how things are back at JAG."
"I'm not hungry." I think its amusing her to watch me come up with excuses why she should have dinner with me.
"Then have a cup of coffee."
"I'm not thirsty."
"How 'bout you have dinner with me so I can sit down, eat, and talk with one of my best friends rather than eat a bad meal alone."
Mac gives me a sly smile as she walks by. "I'll just have a coffee."
0042 ZULU
COMMANDER RABB'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION
Mattie's still sitting on the couch as I put away a few more things from our meal in the frig. She sounds like a lawyer more and more every day. I have no idea how we progressed from her mother's death to Mac is such short order. Not only did we jump tracks before I knew what happened, but in the process I gave her reason to believe that I don't want her and that Mac's been voicing the very same thoughts rattling around in her own head. It's been a long while since I've even admitted to myself that I still love Mac. I'm not sure why I said we're working on it when we're not. Right now friendship is the best we've been able to handle at the moment, but I'm not sure why I didn't say that to Mattie. Hell, if I was truly honest with her I would have clarified the issue and told her that while I love Mac, I'm not in love with her. I'm sure she feels the same way about me. Personally, I don't care for Mattie and Jen spilling secrets to each other about me, especially when I've done my best to help the both of them whenever they need it. I'd order Jen to knock it off, but how much worse could it get? It doesn't look like Mattie's going anywhere and I've got about an hour and a half before I need to leave for Mrs. Smithfield's place so I leave the dishes where they are to retrieve an old book from my bedroom. I'm not sure where this is going to lead, but maybe it'll answer some questions for Mattie. I grab another one on my way back. "Hey there." Mattie curls her legs up underneath herself as I sit down next to her.
"What's that?" I don't answer her question; I simply hand over one of the books. "The 1985 Naval Academy Yearbook?"
"Um-hm, my senior year." Mattie smiles as she runs her hand over the cover, begging the question she doesn't need to ask. "Go ahead."
Mattie laughs when she finally spots my picture in the senior class pages. "Oh my. Look at you. You look like a kid."
"We were kids." I barely recognize that kid anymore, so much hasn't happened to him yet. Aside from the unanswered question of his father that kid has his entire future ahead of him. Now almost twenty years later this is what he's become. There have been a lot of good times, but there have been more than enough bad ones to over shadow those examples. Mattie easily picks out Sturgis in the next page as well. I point out a few classmates of mine and mention where their careers took them. Then we move on the action photos. There's one of me playing basketball on the varsity team, another one of Sturgis running track, but the senior pictures aren't the reason I brought this book out to show Mattie. "Why are you stopping there?"
Mattie closes the book in her lap. "Why not? The rest is about all the other midshipmen."
I want Mattie to find it on her own, so I open the book to another familiar page. Half way down on the left hand page is Kate Pike's picture. I don't point her out to Mattie; I'm going to keep that one just for me, for now anyway. God is she young in that picture. I never knew her in the Academy, she was just a plebe, and I was on my way out. "Always finish a book you pick up Mattie, never quit mid way through." Mattie flips back to the third year midshipman stopping in the middle of the 'M's', I mention other friends of mine as I watch her as she turns another page, then another. She's at the tail end of the R's and the beginning of the S's. One more page, I just hope she doesn't skim over the page and miss it.
I'm staring at her pictures in my photo album when I hear Mattie gasp, she's found her. "Who is Diane Sch..."
"Schonke."
"Who is she and why does she look just like Mac?" Turn it around Mattie, why does Mac look like Diane? I probably would have ended up dating Mac within the first year of knowing her if she hadn't looked like Diane.
"A friend from the Academy." I lower the photo album for Mattie to see all her pictures. There's a lot of them in here and most of them are of the two of us doing something together. Running and softball mostly, but there's other shots with friends, her parents, my parents, miscellaneous combos of friends and such. There's more than just these here in the album, hidden pictures I show no one else. I keep them under my bed, or locked away in my closet whenever I've been serious with a woman. The one I like best is the one Grandma took of us together just before she left to join the Sea Hawk cruise already in progress. After the mess with Gunnery Sergeant Crocket the Admiral gave me a week's leave, just before I left, I tracked down Diane and asked her to come with me. It was a lucky break that she happened to have the same week off. In the picture we're on the back porch swing facing west into the setting sun and I'm holding her like I've got my whole world in my arms. Check that, I did, at the time, I had my whole world in my arms, and for a moment, life seemed ridiculously easy. She mentioned how much she loved it up there and all I can remember is telling her that I loved her. I'll never forget that smile. That warm, beautiful smile... when she looked at me like that I forgot everything else in this world. My father, Mace, the fact that my career was 180 degrees from where I wanted it to be... none of it mattered anymore so long as I had her in my arms. After that I said goodbye to the womanizing of my past, said goodbye to Maria as well. Good thing I did because I have no doubt that the Chinese would have killed her when they abducted me. The other favorite of mine is one of the two of us in the same old swing about an hour later I'd think. We're both asleep on the swing, the setting sun shining on us, her head on my chest and a small smile on her lips. After my extended tour of the Chinese military prison system, I went back up to Grandma's and that's when she gave me those pictures. Until then, I never knew they existed. I called Diane to tell her all about them. I have no idea how Grandma managed to capture a moment so perfect, so pure like she did in that first photo, but I didn't dare ask her either. Diane said she couldn't wait to see them and that's when we first started making our plans to spend the weekend together when she got back.
"A friend?" I didn't expect her to believe me and by the way her eyebrow's rising up, I doubt she ever did.
"For a long time my best friend, then she became my girlfriend."
"What happened that you aren't together now?" I can't believe she doesn't remember this story. Of course, that was a couple months ago and we haven't mentioned Diane since.
"She was murdered. She was all I ever wanted."
Mattie's face drops like I expected it would. "Harm... I'm so sorry."
"Do you remember a couple months ago I told you about her... I had to do the investigation into her death."
"Kinda, but you didn't tell me she could pass for Mac's twin." Mattie holds the photo album closer to her face to get a better look. "How long after she died did you meet Mac?"
"Six months."
"Ghost of your past come to life."
"Something like that."
Mattie closes the yearbook, but continues to leaf through the photo album. "Did you tell her?"
"She got the idea that she reminded me of someone from my past, someone who had died. Later on she saw some of these pictures."
"What did you do after you met Mac?"
"I just tried to deal with it."
"Was it hard?"
"Seeing my dead girlfriend's face on another woman? You bet it was hard."
"But eventually it got easier right?"
"Yeah over time it did."
"Was she like Mac or no?"
"Their personalities were like night and day Mattie. Diane was laid back, very kind. She had the most beautiful laugh and she was always smiling."
I can feel Mattie's eyes looking me over before she responds. "Its still hard on you isn't it?"
"Not as much any more, but I still miss her Mattie if that's what you mean. She's the only person aside from yourself that I've let inside. To really get close to me. After she died..." I can't help sighing at the thought.
"What? After she died you what?"
"I was just thinking that I sounded like Mrs. Smithfield did earlier. After Diane died, I no longer believed in miracles. My dad was gone, Diane was gone, and my career was on the line at the time. It seemed like my life was coming apart at the seems again and this time I didn't know if I'd be able to put my life back together again."
"You didn't deal with her death either did you?"
"Not really and look at what happened to me. After Diane and dad's deaths it's taken me eight years to get close to someone again."
"What happened her killer again? I know you caught on to him, but what actually happened to him?"
I'm going to tell her, I'm going to tell her everything and let the chips fall where they may. "Mattie this is one of those things I need you to keep a secret okay?"
"I promise I won't tell Jen."
"You can't tell anyone Mattie... I could get in a lot of trouble if you did."
Mattie's eyes widen, but she gamely nods at me to continue although I wonder how eager she is to hear it any more. Another quick visit to my closet and I've got the shoebox full of our letters. "About two years after her death I was rereading all of our letters when I stumbled upon this." I hand her the letter, it has a number of watermarks on it after Holbarth threw it on the ground, but its still legible. I had to keep it; I couldn't bear to part with it.
Mattie reads it, but I doubt she's making the connections. "I don't understand."
"Diane's XO killed her to prevent her from ruining his career."
She tries playing it cool, but I could detect the tremor in her voice when she sees the rage flashing in my eyes. "What did you do Harm?"
"What do you think I did? I loaded up my side arm and tracked him down."
The gasp from Mattie had to be audible all the way into Jen and Mattie's place. "You killed him?"
"I was going to."
"What stopped you?"
"Mac showed up. I'd told her the whole story that night and even though I threw her off my trail, she and Bud followed me to Norfolk."
"So what happened to Commander Holbarth?"
"Mac ended up in one of Harriet's Naval uniforms and when she came through the mist calling my name..."
"And Holbarth thought he saw a ghost didn't he?" It's unbelievable how smart my little girl is.
"And fell between the dock and his boat's hull. He was crushed to death."
Mattie digests all of that before looking me squarely in the eyes. I know the question she's about to ask. "Would you have killed him if he hadn't fell?"
"Yes."
Mattie sits there in what I'm guessing is a stunned silence. "Yes?" Isn't that what I just said?
"He killed the love of my life Mattie. I wasn't about to let that go unpunished."
"But that would've lowered you to his level Harm. Not to mention your life would have been over. Did you ever think about that?"
"Mattie there's a lot of things you don't think about when you're bent on killing someone."
Mattie takes one last look at the photo album before closing it shut. "Does Mac think you were going to kill him?"
"I don't know."
"Lucky she was there. Did you ever thank her for that?"
"I kissed her, does that count?"
I can see a small smile building on her face. "On the cheek?" Please, that's for first dates and casual friends.
"On the lips."
"Well if it was only a peck..."
Why not, lets pour some more gas on the fire. "It was a long, slow kiss."
Her smile's running at full power now and her eyes are wide open. "And she returned it?"
"Oh yeah." That was a great kiss.
"What happened that you didn't start dating her right then and there?"
"She told me that she understood I was kissing Diane, not her."
"Were you!?" Good grief, I didn't expect her to get this fired up about it. Of course teenage girls and romance, what the hell was I thinking that she wouldn't be?
"Of course not. Do you really believe I lead myself into thinking I was kissing a ghost." A ghost would have been wearing Lieutenant's bars and she would have smiled at me. Her kiss would have been different too, sweeter somehow, or maybe it's because she's my lost love that I think that way.
"Did you correct her?"
"No."
"What do you mean no? Why not?"
"Well for a long time I figured it was her way of letting me down easy."
Mattie shakes her head, hands me the books, and gets up off the couch. "You were an idiot Harm for ever letting her go."
I don't have an immediate response for that as Mattie leaves and heads over to her place, but eventually the words come. "I know." She can't hear that, but she doesn't need to, to know it.
1613 ZULU NAS PAX RIVER
PATUXENT RIVER, MARYLAND
God, what a beautiful day to be flying. I'm still sitting in the wardroom waiting for Sean Parker to finish up with his flight familiarization training. He passed his flight physical yesterday. Of course, it took a half a dozen flight waivers for him to pass, but hey, who's counting right? Its ten minutes before he comes in following an Ensign who gives me a sadistic grin. He knows exactly what I'm going to do to our ground dweller here. "Sean, how are you?"
"I'm ready to go flying, when do we go?"
"We'll talk off as soon as you're geared up and good to go."
"Well what are we waiting for?"
Almost an hour later Sean and I are strapped in our ride following a pair of Super Hornets as we taxi to the end of our designated runway. I turn us slightly to one side to allow Sean a better view as the Hornets power up and race down the runway. Despite what I'm about to do to him, there's no reason his entire experience needs to be bad. "Tower this is Tomcat 481 on runway three-six requesting permission to take off." Looking back, I can see Sean's head turning side to side as he tires to take everything in. It won't be long before his only view, will that of a rapidly filling barf bag.
"481, permission granted on runway three-six."
I'm just about to throttle up when Sean starts up again with the questions. "Why is it so hot in here?"
"Trust me at thirty thousand feet you'll be glad for it." He'll be damning me for it too if he ever catches on to what I'm really doing to him. I only told Chuck DePalma what the CAG did to him because he was ex Special Forces. The jackass sitting behind me is just a headline chaser and doesn't deserve that kind of information or respect. He doesn't give a damn about the people those stories of his are impacting.
Sean bitches again as I align us with the runway. "Can't my seat raise up any higher? Your chair's blocking my view."
My chair is blocking your view? What an ass. "No, they're not adjustable. Now is there anything else or can we go flying now?"
"You're the pilot." Damn right. I don't look back as we talk off, but I imagine Sean's head is on a swivel. That's going to make this a whole easier. Pulling back on the stick we climb to four thousand feet before he knows what hit him. "Whoa."
"That's about four G's." I let him recover from that as I turn us heading northeast. We're still climbing, but not at our previous rate. I don't want to end this flight that early. "Tower is Tomcat 481, bearing zero-four-niner for op-sec five. Proceeding to alpha one run at angels thirty, over."
"Roger 481, have fun."
"What was all that about?"
If he keeps up with all this talking, I'm going to start calling him Bitching Betty. Maybe if I hit him with a few more G's he'll shut up. "We're heading to operational sector five and beginning with a supersonic run at thirty thousand feet." We're just passing angels ten and I'm not interesting in listening to him talk anymore so I pull back on the stick. I've only added about two G's, but it's enough to shut him up for now. He likes to hear himself talk far too much anyway and besides, I want to be at thirty thousand as soon as we enter our operating area. Ten minutes later, we've finally entered our operating zone. "You all strapped in back there?"
"Yes."
"Got your mask on?"
"Do now." Did miss something where I said he could take it off at all?
"Alright here we go." I love the look in his eyes as I shove the throttle forward. There's no room for anything else except a healthy mix of fear and adrenalin in his eyes when he feels our bird accelerate to eleven hundred miles an hour.
As soon as he recovers from the initial rush of our burst of speed, he starts chattering away like a monkey in a tree. "Whoa! That was awesome!" News reporter, lawyer, whatever; it doesn't matter what a man does for a living. Everyone breaks down into the simplest speech patterns when they're doing something this cool. "Let's do that again." See what I mean?
"No the afterburners burn too much fuel running super sonic like this, we've got to slow down or we'll run out too soon." Now I'm going to get nasty on his ass. "Would you like to know what air to air combat is really like?"
"Have you seen any?"
"Sure, over Libya I splashed a MIG and disabled another." I could add Russia and Cuba to that list, but then again I was really just a flying target in each case. I didn't have anything to fight back with.
"Then let's go." I proceed from one maneuver to the next as I add commentary throughout the entire thing. In reality, I didn't use a quarter of all these moves as I throw hammerheads, snap rolls, wingovers, and Emmelman turns among others at him. He looks green by the time I level us off.
"You okay back there?" I only ask to prove that I was concerned for his well being at one point or another during the flight.
"Fine." Well he's at least trying to gut it out, but I'd respect him a lot more if he'd admit that he's in way over his head.
"Okay, get that nickel handy, cause here comes the negative G's." I slow us down to five hundred knots and then thrust the stick forward. Even my gut doesn't like doing this, but I can guarantee his will dislike it even more. In the back seat, it isn't long before I hear a lot of rustling around. I manage to look back in time to see Sean puking into his bag. I level us out at angels twenty before doing it again. "I didn't hear any pictures. We'll try it one more time in case you didn't get it." Sean barely starts to protest before we plunge again. By the end of the second run, we're at seventeen thousand feet and Sean's busy filling the second bag. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Sean gives me a weak smile and a thumbs up. "I'm doing better now, but no more negative G's."
"Did you get your picture?"
"No, let's go home."
"Already?"
"Yeah, I don't know how much more of this I can take." Finally.
"Do you have those bags secured, I don't want a mess in here." I only ask because of what I'm about to do to him.
"They're good to go."
"Good, then we'll head home." Before he can react, I snap us over and pull out a split S. I know based on how my body's reacting that we're pulling eight and a half to nine G's. Looking back at Sean I can see that he's passed out. Due to his weakened condition, his less than stellar physical shape, and the fact that his mask's off. It'll take him a few minutes to wake up. "Good night sweet prince."
Sean didn't really wake up until we were in our landing pattern, I wouldn't let him. As soon as he started coming around, I'd crank up the G's and put him under. He didn't say anything until we were on final approach and even that was little more than a moan. I'm sure that'll change as soon as we're on terra firma. As soon as we've stopped, powered down and the plane captain helps him down he starts bitching at me as I climb down as well. "What the hell was that all about!?"
"That was for the Smithfield's and every other family you've harassed about losing a loved one in Iraq. Your problems don't even rate Sean. Those young Marines and Soldiers patrolling the streets, trying to stay alive; they, have problems. The biggest question you face is where is your next caffeine fix coming from. You want to the right to tell the story the way you want to tell it? Grab a helmet and a flak jacket and follow a platoon of Marines around in a forward combat zone for a few weeks. Witness their sacrifice, their courage, and their dedication and then you can print whatever the hell you feel like printing. I think you'll find that you'll be a better reporter for it too."
"Don't tell me what to do Rabb."
"Don't you ever harass another family like that again Sean. Their loss has given them the right to tell their story anyway they choose. You have no rights in that regard except to politely take their story and offer your deepest consolations. Whether that story fits your purpose or not is irrelevant."
I think the fact that he's surrounded by several enlisted personnel attending to the plane as well as the young Ensign who's here to help him change out of his gear is helping my words sink in. "When can I talk to her Harm?"
"Mrs. Smithfield has asked me to tell you that she would be happy to discuss her son with for the record after the funeral."
Sean nods weakly. "I'll see you after it then."
Sean starts to follows the Ensign away before I stop him. "Sean?"
"Yeah?"
"I think it would be a nice gesture on your part if you attended the funeral. Show the Smithfield's that you care more than just about your story." Sean only nods as he walks away. Looking over at the plane crew going over the Tomcat, they're all smiles whenever they look back at me. They heard every word and I know they couldn't agree more.
1629 ZULU
THE FIRE HEARTH RESTAURANT
ARLINGTON, VIRGINA
We've been sitting here for the better part of an hour before Mrs. Smithfield comes walking in through the door. Her uncle gave Susan a ride here for the meal after the funeral. I couldn't have been more proud of Mattie today. I wasn't sure how she'd react to everything. I didn't see her during the wake and we didn't talk about it afterwards, but she really proved her mettle today. Mrs. Smithfield looks somewhat at peace considering everything she's been through. "How'd it go?"
She glances at the metals on my chest and I really wish she wouldn't. I forgot my damn ribbons in my locker in the officer's club at the Washington Naval Yard and I left them there after I finished lifting. It wasn't until I brought out my dress whites that I remembered where they were and started swearing about it. I didn't have time to run and get them and the only thing I could think off was to pin the metals on. I felt incredibly out of place with them on. Just about everybody there gave me a weird look at one time or another, especially her uncle. "Really well. Thank you."
"For what?"
"Mr. Parker told me about the flight you took with him and the verbal lashing you gave him afterwards." Good. I don't think it could have worked out any better. When she notices my smile, she smiles back in question. "What?"
"I was just thinking how pleased I am that at least this small part well it worked out as well as it did. I honestly didn't know if he'd come around to our way of thinking or not."
"I really can't tell you how much that meant to me Commander."
"Well I'm glad I could help."
"Do you mind if I ask you something personal?"
"Sure".
"Don't take this the wrong way, but this whole time I've gotten the feeling that you've done this before." I suppose I should have seen this coming. Frankly, that's a sick feeling knowing that I've done this so many times before it's becoming second nature to me and others notice it.
I gesture her to a bar stool and she sits down. Pulling my own stool back, I'm not sure of what I'm going to tell her. "Many times; too many times."
"People close to you?"
"My dad, my girlfriend, some of my best friends from the Academy and flight school."
"Vietnam?"
This is so much easier because she understands. "Shot down Christmas Eve 1969."
Her mouth goes slightly agape as she tries to understand what that must have been like for a five-year-old boy. "You were trying to be strong for your mother weren't you." She knows all too well.
"Yeah."
"Joe tried doing the same for me when my husband died." I'm glad she isn't questioning the fact that he's dead. That's a story too long for the time we have here today. Of course, she has no reason to believe otherwise.
"It wasn't just for mom. I wanted my Grandma to see that mom was just as tough as her."
"Why?"
"My Grandma lost her husband to a war as well. I wanted her to see how strong mom really was." I know she can appreciate the similarity.
"Your dad was an only child wasn't he?"
"As am I."
"And your girlfriend?"
"One of my best friends from the Academy." I'm not going to get into how she died with her.
"Can I ask..." When she sees me pretending to be more interested in my drink she stops there. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."
"Its okay, she was the love of my life and I..." No, I'm not going to finish that. I'm going to leave it at that and hope she understands. Given her circumstances she has as much right to know as anybody else and if it had been anybody else other than Diane, I'd tell her too.
"You don't really know how to deal with death do you?" Now there's a first. No one's ever told me that before and I'm sure my face reflects it.
"What makes you say that?"
"Because you're great at helping others, but I get the feeling you're not so great at helping yourself."
"One of the things I've been told repeatedly by the people who know me well; some more bluntly than others, is that I'm driven by my emotions. I guess I can't help myself, I see someone in need, and I have to help. I promised myself if I had the chance to spare someone the pain I'd felt in my life I'd do it."
"But there more isn't there. You put up walls to protect yourself from your own emotions when the pain's too close or too much to bare."
"I suppose so." Looking at her, she gives me a small smile. "How did you know that?"
"I know the type; my husband was a lot like that."
I try to laugh it off, but I find that I can't. "What can I say? We're military men."
"That doesn't mean we expect you to be inhuman."
"I know." Time to change the subject; I'm tired of talking about me. "I wanted to thank you as well."
I can tell that has peaked her curiosity a bit. "For what?"
"For your advice about Mattie. I'm glad to know that I'm not the screw up I thought I was."
To this she just laughs. "They're kids, no one's expected to be the perfect parent."
"Try telling that to the Family and Social Services people."
We both know she doesn't have anything to say about that so she only shrugs. "Do you have permanent custody of her now?"
"Temporary only. The judge is going to make a final ruling in a month."
"You're afraid of losing her aren't you?"
"Wouldn't you be? I love Mattie." That came out a little harder than I intended, but she understands.
"Of course, but I think they'd be a fool to take her away from you."
A lot of people have said that still, I can't help the slight chuckle. "Can I use you as a character reference?"
She looks a little shocked by that, but then she shocks me in return with her response. "When do you need me?"
Still slightly stunned by that; I'm just about to answer her when my cell rings, by the caller ID I can see its someone at JAG on the line. "Excuse me, I better get this; hello?"
"Commander Rabb?"
"Petty Office Coates? What's going on?"
"I need you to hold for the Admiral sir." I'm not going to like this. The Admiral knew what I was doing today. Whatever this is, its important enough to call me in the middle of all this. Either something big just happened or I'm going to be packing a bag.
"Commander."
"Sir?"
"How was the funeral?"
"As well as could be expected sir."
"Indeed, look I've been asked to supply a JAG officer to Afghanistan to modify the rules of engagement for limited and otherwise special circumstances and you're up." Shit, this is what I get for having a near empty plate. "You're flying out of Andrews at 0800 tomorrow, Petty Officer Coates will have all your travel arrangements made for you. Be here before the end of the day for your briefing and to update Mac and Roberts concerning your case files, understood Commander?
"Yes sir"
"You should expect to be gone two, maybe three weeks at least so make whatever arrangements you have to Commander."
"Yes sir, goodbye sir."
Hanging up the phone, my sigh tells her everything she needs to know. "You have to leave don't you?" I silently nod, hating the Admiral for forcing me to cut our time together short. There's so much that I could've learned from her. "Where?"
"Afghanistan, I leave tomorrow."
Her eyes widen at the mention of my destination, but otherwise she's unaffected. "How long are you going to be gone?"
"A few weeks, I'm not exactly sure. I'm going to collect Mattie and we'll be on our way."
She hops off her stool as soon as I climb off mine, pulling me into a hug and giving me kiss on the cheek. "Take care of yourself over there Harmon Rabb. I don't want to attend another funeral."
I release her and pay for our drinks at the bar. I'm actually very touched she thinks enough of me that she'd even want attend. "I will." Turning around I spot Mattie talking with Susan in a corner of the restaurant. I can only hope she'll be as understanding as the woman I've just came from.
1255 ZULU
MARINE ADVANCED CAMP
FIFTY MILES NORTH OF KABUL, AFGHANISTAN
TWO WEEKS LATER
This is so boring. I've been stuck here two weeks and I don't know why. The Rangers and Marines here know what the hell they're doing. I've spent the bulk of my free time, fighting with a West Point Army Lieutenant Colonel. That is to say; when we haven't been advising our respective Commanders on the ground anyway. Lately we've been bitching about last year's Army-Navy game. Naturally, they'd stick to Academy graduates together. I swear if I didn't know any better, I'd think the Army and Marine Generals running the show here threw us together just to see what would happen. I'm tried of dealing with captured Taliban and al-Qaeda fighters as well. All they do is swear and spit at me, I can't tell you how badly I've wanted to beat the shit out of them. "Commander Rabb?"
Looking up from my tiny, little table the Marines like to call a desk, I see a Corporal standing in my doorway. "Yes?"
"Urgent message from the Wake Island sir."
"Thank you Corporal, carry on."
"Aye sir." Reading the message it doesn't take me long to realize that this letter is going to be my salvation. I manage to secure any sensitive papers I have laying around before sprinting over to Colonel Hamilton, the base CO currently over at the camp's HQ.
"Commander what can I do for you?"
"Sir the Wake Island just called from the Arabian Sea. There's going to be drug seizure and I need to be there to ensure everything's done by the book and to maintain the chain of custody."
"What's the source of the information leading us to this seizure?"
"Unknown sir, I was under the impression I'll be debriefed on my way there."
"A junior officer can't handle something like this?"
"Sir you know as well as I do that the world is watching our activities in this type of regard. We need to have an experienced, senior officer taking point in all of this."
The Colonel doesn't respond to that, instead he walks over to one of his radio operators, "Sergeant, get through to the flight line and tell them to prep our reserve 53, we need to make an additional flight."
The Colonel flashes a smile at me when he turns around. I've actually serving under his command and I like to think he enjoys having a JAG that's seen combat, a lot of it and that can give him not only sound, but sensible advise on how to proceed. "Thank you for doing this sir."
"You're a hell of a warrior Harm. If you were just another JAG, I'd tell you to forget about it. That said I expect to get you back when you're done." I just smile back as I shake his hand. "You've got fifteen minutes before that bird's ready to fly. You better secure your shit and get your ass in gear."
"Roger that sir!" As soon as I'm through the tent flaps, I'm sprinting for my quarters.
Ten minutes later, I'm on the flight line throwing my sea bag into the Sea Stallion waiting for me. The other package in my hand I take better care of. It's for Mattie and I'm going to send it to her from the Wake Island instead of Afghanistan. This way my mail actually has a chance of beating me home. As soon as we're airborne, they put me on the horn to the Wake Island. "Commander Rabb? This is Captain Westfall."
"Right here sir. Where do we stand?"
"AWACS has picked up our suspected tanker on radar and we're presently 515 knots due East of our suspected target."
"SEAL incursion sir?"
"Very good Commander, they're briefing as we speak."
"Sir I estimate it'll take me a little over three hours to reach you, but I need to be on the first flight to our target. If there are drugs on board I need to maintain..."
"The chain of custody, I know the drill the Commander."
"Yes sir, as well as interrogate any detainees we might have."
"By the time you land we'll be launching the SEALs in a CH-53 echo. We're giving them a thirty-minute head start before launching another 53 as well as an accompanying 46. That should give you enough time to arm yourself and contact anyone you feel you need to."
"I need to get in touch with the SEAL Commander as well sir."
"We'll put you in touch before they leave."
"That'd be great skipper, thank you." Leaning back in my chair, I close my eyes as the call to the Wake Forest is cut out. It feels so good to be back in the thick of things again. As many times as I might try to deign it to Mattie or anyone else for that matter, I really am an adrenalin junkie. I love this shit.
"Tired sir?"
Opening my eyes, I look over at the crew chief who's regarding me rather intently. "No Staff Sergeant, just happy to be getting back into the action."
"I hear that sir."
"Have you seen any recently?"
"We took some sporadic ground fire last week while we were picking up a squad of Marines."
"Everybody make it back alright?"
"Oh yeah, the SAW does a great job of keeping the enemy pinned down."
"How long have you been here?"
"Eight months sir."
"Long time."
"Yes sir, hopefully I'll be rotating out of here with my unit in four months."
"Thank God for e-mail when you can reach a computer huh?"
"Yes sir, when I can find the time or actually sit down at a computer that's unused. I call every once in a while, but the bulk is done through letters."
"That can take awhile."
"Yes sir, but I'm hoping you could shorten the trip for me."
"Letter or package?"
"Letter sir, to my girlfriend."
"Love her?"
"Very much sir."
"How long have you been seeing her?"
"About a year before I deployed sir. I'm going marry her sir."
"You might want to ask her before you do it."
"She already knows sir. I told her when I left I was going to propose when I came back." I figure with all the money I've been saving up I'll be able to buy her a nice ring and set aside a nice chunk of change for a down payment on a house."
"I'll bet she misses you."
"She writes every week sir. I promised her a baby before I do something like this again."
"I'll be more than happy to carry your letter."
He has just enough time to dig out the letter and hand it over, responding before the Captain flying the helo asks for him. "Thank you sir."
1643 ZULU
U.S.S WAKE ISLAND
NORTHWEST ARABIAN SEA
I'm not sure how I did it, but I managed to get about an hour of sleep before we touched down on the Wake Forest. I wasn't especially tired, but this could turn out to be a long night, followed by a long day as well. Twenty or thirty hours from now, I might be wishing for that hour if I haven't slept by that time. Personally, I've never cared for LHA's that much. They always seemed like carrier wannabes to me. At least they have some one to greet you when you land like a carrier. "Commander Rabb?" I returned the Chief's salute as I climb out of the Stallion and head for the island. "The Captain wants you to gear up and be back here in ten."
Looking over I can see another 53 powering up to take off. I'm guessing that's our SEAL team. "Lead the way chief."
I'm wearing my desert BDU's with my gun and pack when I climb into my new ride. The crew chief hands me a headset as soon as I strap myself in. "The Captain's on the horn for you Commander."
"This is Commander Rabb sir."
"You ready to go?"
"Yes sir, do we have anymore intelligence on our target?"
"Nothing we didn't have an hour ago. You and a small boarding party will fast rope down to the tanker to provide the SEAL's with additional support." Well that explains the other six guys in here with me. "There will be an accompanying CH-46 waiting on standby ten miles from the ship. When you rope down radio back and let the cargo loaders hoist it out of there."
"Sir I'll need an interpreter as well."
"Find Petty Officer Grant in the boarding party, he'll translate for you. Your bird will remain on standby to take the prisoners back to the Wake Island as soon as you're through with them. Good luck Commander."
"Thank you sir." During the flight, I had a chance to talk to Lieutenant Williams; the SEAL team commander to go over our objectives. Between him, finding Petty Officer Grant, and stuffing about four power bars in my face the flight doesn't take that long. The last thing I want is to be caught in a firefight with a radio in my hand instead of my gun so I radio the 46 as we come into a hover over the freighter. I'm the fourth man out the door when we reach the cargo ship. Ditching my repelling rig, I pull my Beretta and move forward with the team to the bridge. There we find two SEALs holding three men at gunpoint. "Who are they?"
One of the two SEALs turns around to answer me. "Sir this man claims he's the captain. These other two were detained in their quarters." He speaks English? That'll make this easier.
"KIA?"
"Three so far sir, but I'm sure there'll be more."
"Alright Grant, you're with me. The rest of you head out with the SEAL team and finish mopping up. Following that prep a spot on either the bow or the fantail for that Super Stallion to land." More shots ring out as they leave the bridge proving the ship hasn't entirely been secured yet. "Grant, cuff those two to the bulk head we'll start with the Captain."
"Aye sir." He knows what I'm asking. None of these prisoners are restrained. Almost predictably, the first one fights him all the way.
I can only watch for only brief moment before I'm already fed up with this shit. I can't cover these two and threaten Grant's man with only one gun so I pull Grant's sidearm as well and press the muzzle up to the third man's temple in the middle of the struggle. He freezes in the next instant, people tend to do that when they realize the hammer's been cocked. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way." I swear if the bastard so much as twitches I'm going to pistol whip the shit out of him. That's the hard way; the easy way is simply to shoot the fucker. Grant quickly secures him and the next man to the bulkhead. We're only been interviewing the Captain in his cabin for about five minutes when Lieutenant Williams comes in with another prisoner. "Just secure him to the bulkhead with the rest Lieutenant."
"I think you might want to talk to this one sir."
"Who is this?"
"My name is Officer Simon Tanveer, I'm MI-6." That's a new one; I never heard that excuse before.
I can't help the laughter that spills out of me. "Sure you are."
"Who do you think called in your strike?" And that's where the laughing stops.
This is going to take some time. "Grant, stay here and watch the good Captain." I pick up my pack and stare the Captain in the eyes. "Don't do anything stupid and he won't have reason to shoot your ass understand?"
"Perfectly." He's not going to try anything. In fact, I'd swear this guy's glad he got caught.
I lead us back up to the bridge before I turn to face 'Simon' or whatever his name is and the Lieutenant. "Prove you are who you say you are."
"I've got my ID in my pocket."
Patting him down, I find which one and dig out his ID cards. Something doesn't seem right about all this. "You're playing a dangerous game keeping your true identity in your pocket if you're really an undercover spy."
"I got the crew drunk before you arrived, I figured it was worth the risk to keep it on me when you Yanks finally got here."
I walk over to the other side of the bridge where the lighting's much better. Simon's grinning at me as I hold hid ID up to the light. He probably thinks I don't know what I'm doing. I'll let him think that too. While they're not exactly the same, MI- 6's ID cards have enough in common with our CIA tags for me to be able to spot a fake and this is the genuine article. That's just wonderful, I've dealt with these guys before. Some of them are alright, but most of them are just a pain in the ass. "Let him go Lieutenant."
"Sir?"
I hand Simon back his ID. "He is who he says he is. Did you find the drugs yet?"
"They're in the forward cargo hold."
"Okay head back to the cargo hold and secure the drugs, the 46 and her crew are arriving as we speak. Once the cargo and detainees are secured we'll radio for our ride out of here."
"Roger that sir." As I watch the two of them disappear into the corridor I can't help but think how lucky I am that this whole operation has gone so smoothly. I just want to get this over with, put in my time in Afghanistan, and get home to Mattie.
0903 ZULU
U.S.S WAKE ISLAND
NORTHWEST ARABIAN SEA
It takes Mac about an hour to find me holed up in a quiet berthing of the boat in the middle of my conversation. Truth is I didn't want to be found. Not after Mac's comment of seeing me through all of my girlfriends of the past eight years. Webb must have told her things weren't working out between Catherine and myself. We didn't really 'break up', but with the constant tension between Mattie and Catherine along with her newborn baby girl, a little sweetheart she named Belinda, it's was just too much for both of us to deal with. Even though I don't think there's any hope for a romantic relationship between us anymore I still stop by and help her out when I can. If I didn't have Mattie, I'm certain I could have been a wonderful father for that little girl. Mac waves her hand at me to get my attention, I wave back, but I'm not through with my conversation. I'm not sure why she's bothered to track me down when she could be getting more answers from Webb's British half before he's hauled off to London and punished. "I love you too."
Mac watches as I end my call before commenting. "Mattie?"
I sigh as I slip my phone into my pants pocket. "No, my mom. I never got the chance to call her on mother's day. Then when I shipped out I was a little too busy arranging things for Mattie. I just wanted to call her and tell her how much I loved her. I didn't want mom to end up like Mrs. Smithfield and my Grandma did you know? Losing their husbands and sons without hearing them say I love you one more time." Mattie and I visited her mother's grave on Mother's day. She cried nearly the entire time, but I think it was a real turning point for her. I don't know what Susan and Mattie talked about while we were at their house, but whatever it was it sure helped.
"Harm I doubt you're going to be in any real danger here on the LHA."
"No, but I spent two weeks in country before you got out here. I could've ended up in another mine field or... well I guess you'd have to be a parent to understand." Normally I'd feel a bit guilty about pointing out what I have in my life that she doesn't; a daughter, a mother who loves me and I her, but I seem to be picking fights with everybody this week so why stop now? "Anyway, what's up?"
"Up?"
"I came down here to be alone while I made this call, I figured there had to be a reason why you'd track me down."
Mac shakes her head like she's trying to remember why she came in the first place. "Oh, um, Chegwidden called."
"Has he regained his sanity?"
"And probably lost more hair in the process." That's good for a laugh before she continues. "No I got my recall orders back home. I'm getting a lift to Bahrain tomorrow morning at 0730."
"I don't suppose he said anything about me and when I might be coming home."
"Sorry I think you're stuck here for the duration." No, she's not. It's really for the best anyway; the two of us stuck on a helo together and then a plane ride half way around the world together... I doubt it would be for the best of either of us.
"Damn, look I've got a package I'd like to send to Mattie, would you mind taking it back for me? Just give it to Jen and she'll take it from there. Oh, there's a letter a friend of mine wants to send too if you don't mind."
"Jen? You sound like Bud."
"I really hope I don't sound that awkward all the time."
Mac jabs in the shoulder for that one. "He isn't like that anymore and you know it."
"I know, so what's your point? She's practically become my little sister by association. So what if I call her Jen occasionally?" Well let's be fair about it, she's 'Jen' only when it's convenient for me. When Mattie told me they talk about me all the time, it's easy to tack on her title and last name to distance myself from her. Thankfully, that's an occasion that is quickly becoming more and more rare.
Mac holds her hands up in defense. "Nothing I didn't mean anything by it. I just thought it was odd is all. So what's in the package?"
"A kilo of heroin." I laugh, but Mac doesn't. "Come on that was funny."
She still doesn't look that amused. "What's in the package?"
"Um there's a digital camera in there. I filled up both memory cards and the pictures are too big to send her as attachments so I'd like to just send the entire thing home. I also bought her a cream colored silk scarf from a local dealer and a braided silver necklace."
"How did you manage to go shopping way the hell out here?"
"If you know who to talk to Mac you can get anything out here."
"Do I want to know how you managed to accomplish that?"
"Probably not."
Mac sighs and sits down on the stairs. "I'll deliver your package to Mattie if you tell why you were constantly fighting with Simon."
"I should have figured you were on a first name basis already."
"Answer the question Harm."
"Lets just say I have a problem with his kind."
"You used to be his kind."
"No, not that. MI6, I don't like them."
"Why not?"
"Lets just say that my run-ins with them have been less than positive experiences and no I can't talk about it."
"Well that's convenient."
"Is that what you say to Webb when he tells you he can't tell you what he's been up to?" I would've loved to have been a fly on the wall for some of the questions Mac threw at our in house James Bond. I'll bet a lot of it had to do with the lifestyle and what that lifestyle ends up doing to the man in question. I spent enough time with field agents that I've got a pretty good grasp of the kind of answers Mac's likely to receive and based on what I know about Webb, the kind of responses Mac had to give. Well at least if she was being honest with herself. I know he's drinking more and has been for some time. I'm curious how Mac's been dealing with that. I know she hasn't been drinking, I've never doubted her sobriety.
"Clay lays out what happened without being specific." I'll bet he doesn't, but I'll play along with her for now.
"Okay, I was sent somewhere to pick up some people who were carrying a package we had to get out of there. Two men died, and I had to hump it out over 100 miles to steal something to be rescued myself with the package intact. The point being that MI6 fucked me over for the entire mission and it wasn't the first time. Good enough?"
"For now." What she going to do ask Webb for the details? He'll never tell her what I was doing deep in the heart of the Congo. The two men were MI6 agents, but I didn't find out until it was too late that one of them had flipped and was working for some faction within the government. The bastard lined the runway with Rommel asparagus and I didn't see them until it was too late. They were short and I was landing into the sun. I hit one and the damn thing blew off one of the wings of the twin engine Piper I was flying in from South Africa. Once his partner pulled me from the wreckage, he turned around and shot the son of a bitch in the head before I got the chance to. Turns out MI6 knew he'd flipped and instead of sending in one of their own pilots into danger, they asked us for a little professional courtesy. By that time we had a company sized element hot on our sixes so we made for the west coast. The agent never told me his real name, and I never found out either, he just kept calling me Yank so I called him Brit in response. I ended up taking the package from him when he was killed by a mortar blast. Being in those jungles made me feel sixteen all over again. Stryker would have been proud. After the other guy died, I lost my pursuers easily. It wasn't hard; I simply went into sniper mode and disappeared. They sent out advanced scouts with radios and one did get within ten feet of my position. I could have killed him easily, but I thought it best that he radio back saying that he couldn't find any sign of me. I reached the coast about a week later, stole a boat, sailed out into international waters, and activated the emergency beacon I'd ripped out of the plane. I was expecting some sort of air rescue, but instead a fast attack submarine picked me up. I handed the package over to the Agency first of course, I think they eventually handed it over to MI6, but I was never told what was in that case.
Mac shakes my shoulder before I look her in the eyes. "Thanks for rejoining us."
I shake my head to get those images out of my head. "Sorry, just reliving the mission for a while there."
"Was it good or bad?" Rarely is the mission ever good.
"Very bad."
"How bad?"
"Lucky to be alive bad."
"Well you are the luckiest man I know." I really don't need to be reminded of that. Sometimes I wonder when I'm going to finally buy the farm. When I start thinking like that, I quickly dismiss it the idea. The last thing a fighter pilot or spook wants to consider is that his luck's about to run out. Tell a hundred fighter pilots that 99 percent of them aren't expected to survive the mission they're being sent out on and they'll look around at all their fellow pilots and think, 'You poor bastards.'
"I make my own luck Mac." I think a friend of mine once said, 'Chance favors the prepared mind'. Personally, I think he got it from movie or something, but essentially its true. My training and quick thinking has allowed me to survive almost all of the life or death situations I've been in. When that hasn't been enough, I've been lucky to have good people watching my back. Mac, Meg, Bud, the Admiral; they've all been there to save my ass at one time or another.
"You're own bad luck too."
What the hell's that supposed to mean? I stare at her for a moment before an example comes to mind. "You mean the Singer trial."
"Among other things yes."
"What other things?"
"Well why don't we talk about the verbal lashing you received due to the slugs buried in the ceiling of courtroom four."
"That made the difference between a man losing his career and his life forever and walking away a free man. I'd do it again if I had to."
"What about your little Tiger cruise adventure with Josh Pendry?"
"I didn't invite those Cubans aboard."
"Maybe not, but you sure as hell scuttled your chances with Annie." Does it really matter any more? It wouldn't have lasted anyway.
I feel like Mattie rolling my eyes at her like this. "Please you can come up with a better example than that can't you? Annie was going to end it no matter what I did or didn't do with Josh. At least I gave the kid a normal life if even for a short while."
Mac tilts her head at me and I'd swear she's dying to stick to me. "Your flying cost you Jordan and your lead feet cost you Renee." Doesn't she mean it cost me her?
Okay, if that's the way she wants to play it, I'll play. "And where exactly did I go wrong that Diane was taken from me?"
Mac incessant staring stops when I mention Diane's name and her voice has a much quieter tone. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Well maybe you think it was her fault then."
"It wasn't her fault either Harm, obviously she wasn't supposed to die, but she did."
"Then please don't lump my accomplishments or failures, my gains and losses into such simplified categories like good or bad luck."
"I'm sorry Harm."
"About the package?"
"I'll take it. Who's the letter for?"
"A Marine Staff Sergeant, it's for the woman he loves back home."
"Who'd a thought it? You're a hopeless romantic."
If she was trying to get me to smile it worked. "Keep that to yourself, I'd hate for that sort of thing to get out. Jet jocks have an image to uphold you know."
Mac smiles, but I sense she's biting back a comment. I probably don't want to know what that might be either. "What about Navy JAG's."
This game is almost amusing. "Well I'm not really sure, but I think they're allowed to let that sort of thing out. I mean look at Bud, too bad I'm not just a JAG."
A game shouldn't be putting a look like that on Mac's face. "So you see yourself as a pilot first, lawyer second?" Uh-oh, she thinks I mean that I'm on a different team than she is.
"Merely a pilot who also happens to be a lawyer Mac. I was born and bred to be pilot, you know that." At least she should anyway.
"So you don't like being a lawyer?"
"No I do, but when you ask me what am I passionate about, I don't think there's a doubt in anyone's mind where my loyalties lie."
"I suppose I do." She probably hates me for it too.
"Look I'm hungry, you wanna get something to eat?"
"Tell why I should suffer through one more second of the mess's cooking than absolutely necessary?"
"Because then you can tell your partner how things are back at JAG."
"I'm not hungry." I think its amusing her to watch me come up with excuses why she should have dinner with me.
"Then have a cup of coffee."
"I'm not thirsty."
"How 'bout you have dinner with me so I can sit down, eat, and talk with one of my best friends rather than eat a bad meal alone."
Mac gives me a sly smile as she walks by. "I'll just have a coffee."