Chapter 12:

Shave and a Haircut

"We do what we must, and call it by the best names."

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

UNKNOWN TIME

UNKNOWN DATE

UNKNOWN LOCATION

Harm let his chin drop forward on his chest. He was tired of pain, tired of everything. He didn't know how long Sadik had been tormenting him, but he had managed not to say anything of importance. He allowed a half-smile to spread over his face. Sadik would not win; he would die before he said anything about the classified information he was privy to.

'Death before dishonor', the thought floated through his head. He couldn't remember where it came from, but it was true. He would die before he dishonored his name or betrayed his country. In his situation, death looked like a good option. Death... In death the pain, the guilt, and the fear would all leave him. And if what religious scholars claimed was true, his father, Gym, Diane, Joe, and all of his fallen comrades would be waiting for him on the other side. He hoped it was true, because he had a feeling that he was not long for this world.

Harm slumped against his bonds and blinked groggily. Sleep was his best temporary escape. What was it that Wordsworth had said? Ah... 'our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting'... Perhaps death was the same. Perhaps he could lose his unpleasant memories in death. He sighed deeply. Soon, he was sure, he would find out.

His eyes started to drift shut as his mind and body began to give into the sleep that he craved. It was quiet in his lightless cell; and for the moment, his memories weren't assaulting him. He had almost become accustomed to the silence and darkness where he now resided. Forays into the light meant pain, but the darkness was safe. The only other safe place was with Her, and he was sure that She was far from there.

He jerked his head up as he heard loud noises coming from behind the location of the door. Harm cried out as the door was kicked open, sending blinding white light into his sensitive eyes. Gentle hands pulled him down and carefully took off as much of the wire binding his limbs as they could. Dazzled by the light as he was, he couldn't really see his rescuer, but he was grateful to whoever had come to get him out.

"Harm," a familiar voice said. "It's okay, we're here to complete the mission and rescue you."

Harm blinked, trying to clear the spots from his eyes. "So, Commander," the oily voice of Sadik Fahd assaulted his ears. "Your friends have arrived to rescue you."

Harm heard a gun go off near him, and the voice of the terrorist was silenced. "Is that the last one?" He recognized the voice as that of Jack Olsen.

"Yes. I pocketed a vial of drugs that Fahd left out; he might have used it on Harm." Beth answered.

Harm tried to walk, but his legs wouldn't cooperate with him, so he allowed Beth and Jack to half-carry, half-drag him out of the building that had been his prison. More footsteps sounded behind him.

"Are you in one piece, Webb?" Jack asked.

"Yes. Sadik's lieutenants are gone; Michaels got all of them." Webb answered.

"Good job, Michaels," Jack said.

"Thank you, sir; let's get the hell out of here."

A soft chuckle was the man's answer, and it was the last thing Harm remembered for a long time.

1220 Zulu

1 February 2004

Enroute to Bethesda Naval Hospital

Beth smoothed Harm's filthy hair back from his forehead and grimaced. He looked horrible. His complexion was pasty gray, and she could see evidence of repeated beatings. As if that weren't bad enough, the medics had discovered track marks along his arms and on his abdomen, and he had some deep, infected cuts that were oozing blood and pus.

The medic started cleaning the cuts as best as he could before covering them with bandages. He swore softly as he got to Harm's wrists; it looked as if some of the wire that had bound them for the past two months had become embedded in his skin. "Do you have any idea what he was injected with?" the man asked.

Beth reached in her pocket and pulled out one of the vials that she'd stolen. "I found this near where they were keeping him."

"Let me see that," Jack demanded. He took a close look at the vial. "Shit. It's starlight."

"What's starlight?" the medic asked.

"Classified," was Jack's quick answer. "I'll have to call in some favors to get the antidote... I'll tell you later, Beth."

She nodded as he pulled out a SAT phone and started dialing. "Webb," he began, as he listened to the phone ring. "Make yourself useful and try and stop some of Rabb's bleeding."

Webb rolled his eyes. "If I'd wanted to be a doctor, I would've gone to medical school instead of the Company."

"Kid, get your sorry six in gear before I dump you out of this airplane," Jack growled.

"You wouldn't..." Webb said.

"Watch me," Jack said. "The man saved your life more than once, you started dating his girl afterwards, and the least you can do is help the man out when he's bleeding all over the place, kid."

Webb rolled his eyes before grabbing some gauze to dab gingerly at some of Harm's smaller wounds. The more extensive injuries had bandages on them, so only the smaller ones remained. "I still don't see the point," he grumbled. "We have medics, and none of these are particularly life-threatening."

Beth used a damp cloth to clean some of the dirt from Harm's face. "Do it because you're a decent human being," she said dryly. "Oh, wait. I forgot," she glared at him. "You're not."

"That's a bit harsh, Beth," Jack said. "He may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but Porter instilled some ethics in him."

"Thanks, guys. Just keep on talking about me like I'm not here," Webb grumbled.

Beth smiled at him, then watched the medic start to bandage Harm's wrists and ankles. "Thanks, we will."

Jack smiled and reached for a roll of gauze. "Let me help," he murmured before he started to wind the material around one of Harm's lacerated ankles.

The medic pushed Webb out of the way to reach a large cut that he'd previously missed. "See?" Beth said, raising an eyebrow. "I always did think that he was practically useless."

"Beth--" Jack began warningly.

"Okay, okay," she said with a sigh. "Sorry, Webb. I'm just worried about my partner..."

"It's okay," he gave her a weak smile. "I kind of know how it works, and I'm worried about him for Mac's sake."

"Only for Mac?" Beth asked. "I thought that the two of you were friends not so long ago."

"We were--that is, as much as I have friends," he admitted. "But Jack made me think about it, and I'm not sure if Harm can forgive me for what I did. It wasn't fair to Mac, and it wasn't fair to him," Webb paused. "I haven't really been a very good friend lately."

Jack grinned. "The boy can learn!" he joked.

Webb walked over and slapped Jack on the back. "Never thought I'd get used to having a partner," he admitted. "I'm almost forty, Jack; if you'd just stop calling me 'kid', I might actually get to like having you around to watch my back."

"Kiddo--"

"Ja-a-ack," Webb groaned.

"If you insist, Clay, I won't call you that anymore, but I'll still be riding your six until you get things right, deal?" Jack held out his hand.

"Deal." Webb grabbed the proffered hand in a firm clasp and shook it.

Harm's eyes fluttered open. "Mac?" he whispered hoarsely. "Sarah?"

Beth leaned over him and smoothed his dirty, tangled hair back from his face. "We'll get her for you Harm, just as soon as we get to Bethesda, I promise."

"My Sarah," Harm mumbled. "Thought you were dead..." His eyes drifted shut.

Jack grimaced. "It's the starlight. The sooner as we get it out of his system, the better."

"What do you mean?" Beth asked, worried.

"Well, the cat's out of the bag, now, so I might as well tell you. It accesses the part of the brain that stores memory, and the more powerful the memory, the more likely it is to surface," he explained. "Which means that the most painful ones come out first, and long term use makes them start acting like hallucinations."

"Shit," Webb muttered. "No wonder he's a mess."

Jack nodded. Explaining the rest could wait until later; it was more important to get Harm home and taken care of.

1400 Zulu

3 February 2004

SECNAV's Office

Washington, DC

Kershaw smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Your officer has been rescued, but I'm afraid that I can't use him anymore."

Sheffield leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "I figured as much. I found out about the same time you did, Kershaw, and I've been getting updates on his medical condition."

Kershaw crossed his arms. "Any permanent damage?"

Sheffield shook his head. "The doctors say no, but they also said that he's in for a long recovery," he said with a sigh. "I wanted him for special ops, but we just saw how that turned out."

Kershaw inclined his head in agreement. "He got himself captured like a damn rookie."

"Yeah. He's too old to send back to flying, and in the shape he's in, it could take a while before he could do that anyway." Sheffield leaned back in his chair and grimaced.

"Didn't Chegwidden want him back?" Kershaw asked. "Even I've heard scuttlebutt to that effect."

Sheffield nodded. "He's tried to pull every string he can to get Rabb back, but I've been blocking him." He pushed his glasses up on his face and pulled a file towards him. "Chegwidden's been shortstaffed on senior attorneys since the Imes fiasco."

"There you go, then." Kershaw said with a smile. "Now, you mentioned wanting a CIA agent assigned to this office. I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement."

Sheffield's smile mirrored Kershaw's. "What about Clayton Webb?" he asked.

"You don't want him, believe me." Kershaw grimaced. "The man is the biggest screw-up in the Company, and it's a miracle that he hasn't managed to get himself killed."

"I thought he had a good record..."

Kershaw favored Sheffield with a sardonic smile. "His most successful operations only succeeded because he pulled in JAG officers; we're having him retrained now."

Sheffield nodded thoughtfully. "So who do you recommend?"

"Jeffrey Murphy," Kershaw said immediately. "He's got a solid record, he's ex-Navy, and he's looking for something a little less risky than going after terrorists."

"Perfect. After the mess that Rabb got into, I think we'll stick a little closer to home... and have him undercover within the Navy."

Kershaw stood up. "I'll have his paperwork to you tomorrow and he'll report on Monday."

Sheffield stood and shook the deputy director's hand. "Thank you," he said with a smile.

"Not a problem," Kershaw turned and walked out of the room.

Sheffield sat back down, pulled a transfer form towards him, and started filling it out. He'd let AJ deal with letting Rabb know of his official status as soon as his assistant fixed the computer systems to show where Rabb had been for the past eight months.

At least now Chegwidden would stop bothering him about Rabb as well as a new senior attorney. He grinned, pleased with the fact that he was now killing three birds with one stone. Rabb was too much of a maverick, anyway, and he was well rid of him.