A Man Called Ghost
Chapter 25
After the COD had come to a complete stop Harm uncrossed his arms and released his arrest harness. Standing up he noticed his hand was starting to shake again. With a savage curse that caused the two other passengers to look in his direction, Harm quickly grabbed onto the seatback in front of him until he felt the tremors pass. For three days he'd managed to keep his occasional shakes from Mac. He'd even managed to hide them from the doctors at the Company. Harm was just glad he didn't have an episode while getting ready for this operation.
"Lieutenant Commander? You need to get aboard now, sir. There's an Ensign waiting for you." The crew chief said as he came to stand next to Harm. Harm was glad he'd managed to convince the ops guys that anyone his age who was still a Lieutenant would at best be chained to a desk, not running around in the field.
"Thanks Chief." Harm said without bothering to mask the tension in his voice.
"First time in a COD, sir? It can be quite a shock to the system the first time you sit through an arrested landing." The Chief said with barely masked contempt in his eyes. How could this guy be a SEAL and get shook up to the point of trembling when landing in a COD?
"That will be all, Chief!" Harm snapped back when he caught the Chief's patronizing tone and the look in his eyes.
"Aye, aye." The Chief said sharply. "Sir." He added belatedly.
Biting his lip Harm grabbed his seabag and moved to the hatch. Dropping to the deck he saw a young female Ensign who reminded him a little of a younger Harriet Sims-Roberts. As soon as his feet hit the deck the Ensign was snapping off a sharp salute.
"Lieutenant Commander Post, I'm Ensign Gallows, the PAO aboard. Welcome to the Patrick Henry, sir. If you'll follow me the rest of your team is below in Squad Bay three."
"Thank you, Ensign." Harm said returning the salute. With a wry snort he shook his head as he finally admitted to himself how much he missed this.
"Sir?"
"Nothing Ensign. Lead the way."
"Aye, aye, sir."
When Harm and the Ensign had finally ducked inside the superstructure, Harm finally removed his helmet and vest. While on the deck he'd left it on just in case someone he knew was watching the arrivals. He needed to get below as soon as possible.
"Right this way, sir." Ensign Gallows gestured for Harm to follow her as she moved towards a nearby ladder well.
Silently Harm followed the Ensign without bothering to respond to her infrequent entreaties to draw him into conversation. As they were approaching the 03 deck Harm caught sight of a familiar figure coming down the corridor towards him, and from the way the man's eyes widened Harm was pretty sure that he'd been seen as well. Shit. Just what he needed to start this off.
"Harm?" Sturgis said in shock.
Harm stopped and came to attention immediately looking at a point beyond Sturgis' shoulder. "I'm sorry Commander, you must have me confused with someone else. I'm Lieutenant Commander Gregory Post."
Trying not to laugh at the confusion he saw pass over his old friend's face Harm continued to stare into space. "Ah, my mistake Commander. As you were."
With a slight shake of his head, as he relaxed from standing at attention, Harm tried to answer all of the questions in Turner's eyes. Once Sturgis continued on his way Harm let out a little sigh. At least Turner was smart enough not to ask awkward questions in front of Gallows or anyone else. He just hoped Sturgis was smart enough not to go to Toby and ask him what the hell Harm was doing on his ship masquerading as a Naval Officer. He could only hope.
As he rounded the corner in the passageway leading to the Squad Bay, Harm caught sight of Skates coming down a ladder at the end of the way. Damn it, he needed to get into that Squad Bay before someone else saw him.
"This is it, sir." Ensign Gallows started to say as Harm hurried into the Squad Bay and slammed the hatch behind him. Gallows shook her head disgustedly at the Lieutenant Commander's behavior. Damn SEALs thought they were better than everyone else.
With a sigh Harm pushed off from the hatch he had just closed to look up into the dim squad bay. He saw four men standing around a table at the end of the bay. That would be his new SEAL team, or at least most of them.
Moving towards the table a figure in BDUs stepped out of the shadows and stopped in front of Harm with arms crossed over his chest. "Who the hell do you think you are? Sir."
Dropping his seabag Harm took a second to look the man in front of him up and down. Five ten, probably two twenty. Built like a tree trunk. A Chief Petty Officer by the rank on his collar. With a quick punch to the solar plexus Harm had the Chief Petty Officer bent over double and quickly moved a leg to drop the man on the deck. Only one way to let this dog know who was boss.
"The name's Post. Lieutenant Commander Post. And I'm your worst nightmare Chief. Now pick up my bag and stow in on my rack." Harm said in a deathly quiet voice.
As he stepped around the man writhing on the ground Harm looked up to see the team's leader standing in his path. Stepping up to the Commander, Harm came to attention and shot off a salute. "Lieutenant Commander Post reporting, sir."
"Welcome aboard Commander. I'm Commander Munson. Stand at ease."
"Good to be here, sir. Heard you boys needed a pilot for this op."
"Figured they'd hook us up with some carrier jockey. Imagine my surprise to find out there's a fully qualified pilot serving with Two. How'd you like working with Rivers?" According to his cover, not even the Team knew Harm was CIA. Instead they'd been told he was a pilot who'd transferred into the SEALs and was serving with SEAL Team 2, who had been temporarily attached to their Team.
"He's a tough bastard, sir. A cowboy, but he gets the job done and brings us home."
Nodding at Harm's statement Munson let a brief smile play over his lips. Looking past Harm to where the Chief was picking himself up off the deck, the Commander snapped, "Damn it Perez, get your ass off the deck. Stow the Commander's bag on his rack and then go get him some grub." Turning to Harm the Commander nodded. "You've met Perez I see. Don't mind him, he thinks he's tough. Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the team."
After the introductions were made Harm and Munson moved over to the table to look over the plans for the op. According to the files Webb had left for Harm at Andrews, Hassa did actually have a Sea King chopper on his ship, which would be large enough for Harm to fly everyone out. Twenty minutes later when the hatch opened behind him Harm glanced over his shoulder figuring it would be Perez with his food. Instead he saw Sturgis step into the bay. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?
Both Harm and Munson came to attention when Turner came over to the table.
"As you were men. Commander Post, it's been a long time." Sturgis said with an edge to his voice.
"It has sir. How've you been?" Harm asked softly.
"Good, good. Can I have a word with you? In private?"
With a barely perceptible sigh, Harm nodded slightly and indicated the distant corner. Once both Harm and Sturgis had moved to the corner Harm shot a deadly glance at his long time friend. "Damn it Sturgis, what are you doing?"
"I think that's my line Commander Post. Last I heard you'd quit the Navy."
"Actually if you check with BuPers Lieutenant Commander Post is very active in his duties. Ex-carrier pilot, who decided to try his hand at being a SEAL. Comes in handy for certain ops." Harm said sarcastically. "Leave it alone Turner."
"Damn it Harm; we haven't seen you in months and this is how you turn up?"
"Look Sturgis, I can't tell you anything, alright? You're not cleared to know. Hell the Team doesn't even know what's going on. As far as they know I am Post, and Post is a pilot serving with SEAL 2. Leave it alone." Harm warned.
With a snort Sturgis shook his head. "I see you're enjoying your time on the Dark Side."
"Didn't have anything else left to me buddy. And it turns out I'm pretty good at the work."
"Harm..." Sturgis started.
Harm had had enough. "Shut it Sturgis. I'm not here, you didn't see me, and yeah, this conversation never took place. End of fucking discussion." Harm snapped quietly as he came to attention and saluted Sturgis. Turning on his heal Harm stalked back towards where Munson and the rest of the team were standing, trying not to look at Sturgis. He didn't see the look of frustration and anger that was naked on Sturgis' face as he himself strode to the hatch and moved through it, slamming it behind him.
"Everything okay, Post?" Munson asked when Harm had rejoined them at the table.
"Yeah. Met the guy when he did an inquiry on an op awhile ago. He ended up owing me $50 after a night of poker and never did pay it."
"Fucking JAGs, always poking their noses into our shit when we get back." One of the other SEALs muttered.
"Stow it Butts." Munson snapped at the man.
"Aye, sir." The PO answered sullenly.
"Alright guys, here's the plan for tomorrow..." Munson started up again. For the next two hours they went over everything from insertion to extraction. Harm spoke up in regards to the helicopter and its role in getting them all out of there. With a final look at the men around him Munson nodded his head in satisfaction. "That covers it. I'll pick up the letters in a couple of hours and then I want you guys to rack out. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. We ship out at 0400. Dismissed."
After a quick chorus of "Aye, sir." Harm shoved his seabag aside then moved towards his rack and sank down onto it. The letters, he'd forgotten about those. Who the hell was he going to write, anyway? He hadn't spoke to his mom in almost a year, and even though he'd had a few conversations with Frank after he left JAG, it had been almost as long since he'd spoken to his stepfather. He didn't have a wife or anyone else that the SEALs normally wrote their letters to. Maybe he should write one to Bud and Harriet for little AJ and Jimmy.
While Harm was lost in his thoughts Munson had walked up and put his foot up on the end of Harm's rack. When Harm noticed he was standing there Munson held out his hand to keep him from standing up. "Don't worry about it."
"What can I do for you, sir?" Harm asked.
"Drop the sir crap Post, we don't stand much on formality here. Call me Bob."
"Greg." Harm said after the barest moment's hesitation.
"That's not exactly true now, is it Greg." Bob said as he leaned closer to Harm.
"What are you getting at?" Harm asked warily as the words Bob was saying hit him.
"Don't get me wrong, I know you belong here the same as any of us, my guess is that you earned that Trident. And I know if you're here we need you for the op tomorrow. But you aren't serving with Two, are you Commander?"
"What the hell do you mean, Bob?"
"Cut the crap Greg. I was on the Seahawk three years ago in the Gulf when a certain crazy fighter jock decided he wanted to play tag with a dirty cruise missile. Funny thing is the jet jock wasn't carrier bound; if you can believe it he was a JAG. I owe that man my life; me and everyone else within ten miles of the Seahawk."
"Three years is a long time Bob."
"You're a long way from JAG Greg." Harm noticed that even though Munson was hinting that he knew who Harm was he was sticking to using his assumed name. Good man.
"Been a long way from JAG for a year now. Seems my services weren't required any longer, and another offer came up." Harm said with the barest hint of bitterness.
"Look, Greg. I'm not going to pretend I know everything that's going on here, and as much as it pisses me off to do it, I'm not going to ask any questions. I'm guessing it has something to do with that guy that was down here earlier though."
"What guy?"
"Can't miss him. He's the only one on the ship wearing a three piece suit."
"Shit. I can't get away from him, can I?" Harm said quietly to himself.
"You know him?" Munson asked without sounding shocked.
"Wish I didn't. If he's here I'm surprised he hasn't been down to torment me yet, he seems to enjoy making my life a living hell."
"Well, we'll see what we can do to keep that from happening; we look after our own. I'll set a couple of the boys to watching our friend in the suit." Munson said with a slight nod. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to your letter."
"Don't have anyone to write to." Harm said with a shrug.
"What do you mean? Everyone has someone they write to; even if it's an old high school or Academy buddy. Listen, Greg, take my word for it. You don't want to go out there and not come back leaving things unsaid. Even if its bullshit about how you miss all the shit you used to get up to in the Academy, put it down. You'll be able to feel better about it when your time comes that way." And with that Munson was wandering back across the squad bay to where the enlisted men were writing their own letters.
With a sigh Harm stared at the unrelenting grey bulkhead, trying to make sense of the jumble of thoughts and emotions running through his head. He should probably write his mom and Frank, but then again how do you say "Hi mom and dad. Sorry I haven't written or phoned in awhile, but I've become something of a cold blooded murderer in the name of my country. Been spending a lot of time in far off places killing people they tell me are a threat to the US. Love, Harm." Somehow he didn't think that would make the parents feel any better; never mind the fact that the Company would probably get its hand on his letter before his parents and they wouldn't let that slide. With a sigh, Harm shrugged his shoulders and looked up. "Butts!" he called out.
"Sir?"
"Bring me some of that damn paper and a pen."
"Aye sir."
Twenty minutes later Harm rubbed his eyes and leaned back against the bulkhead considering the letter he'd written his parents. He'd included some stuff for his mom to pass on to Sergei, but didn't really think a separate letter to his brother was called for. They'd drifted a bit even before Harm joined the CIA, so he wouldn't even know where to send it now. With a last glance to make sure there was enough to reassure his mother that he'd died in the service of his country, but not enough to worry her, he folded the papers in half and set them aside to be placed in an envelope.
The very fact that he'd been writing this letter surrounded by SEALs about to go on a covert op brought AJ to mind. Before he knew it, Harm was in the middle of writing a letter to his former CO, asking questions and providing answers that he felt his CO deserved. He tried to explain his behavior in recent years, feeling that AJ deserved some sort of explanation. He railed against AJ's decision to order everyone to stay away from him during his murder investigation, getting a little harsher than he'd planned. But most of all he asked questions about what he was feeling, about his sense of being lost. If anyone knew the answers it would be AJ, and even if he wasn't going to be around to hear the answers it felt better to have them out. Of course he'd never ask the questions in person, and the only way AJ was going to read this letter is if he was dead, but it did feel better in a way. He didn't bother going into that "I died with his boots on" crap with the old SEAL, AJ knew if Harm didn't come back, it was because something had gone wrong; be it luck or planning. With a bit of a flourish he signed his name and folded the paper without a second glance.
And now came the hard part. Deep down inside he wasn't sure if he wanted to write this final letter, but he also knew he had to. Bob was right, he didn't want to die with things left unsaid on his part. Sighing heavily, he set pen to paper once more and decided he wouldn't hold anything back.
Mac
No, that would never do...
Sarah,
Well I hate to say it, mostly because it sounds so melodramatic, but if you are reading this then I am most likely dead or captured. Sounds like something out of a bad late night movie, doesn't it? But, then again they say art imitates life, so there it is. You and I both know I can't really tell you what I'm doing, let me just reassure you that it is in the name of fighting that good fight we're always talking about. Sorry I couldn't go out in that blaze of glory with you, but I promise if I'm gone I'll do my best to make it a blaze to remember.
That should at least get a bit of a chuckle out of her Harm thought to himself as he bit onto the end of the pen in thought.
I'm not really sure what else to say beyond the requisite "If you're reading this, I am dead" crap. Where do I start Sarah? With the questions without answers? With the answers I think you are looking for? With my feelings for you? Yes, I still have, will always have, feelings for you Sarah. Feelings that run deeper than I ever knew feelings could. I think that's why things hurt so bad last year when none of you came to see me while I was in the brig. Bud and Harriet I can understand; they've got the boys to look after. Sturgis? Well I can't say I agree, but he's always been so by the book it must be stuck up his ass somewhere. But you Mac? You know that if the situations had been reversed, if any of you were in my place I'd be breaking down the door, breaking rules, regs and orders to see you and help. I guess I just thought even if the Admiral ordered you guys away, you of all people would do whatever it took to be there for me. I still can't say I understand, but it's in the past. I shall do my best to ignore the scar caused by that wound so that it may join the legion of other scars upon my soul.
Harm paused in his writing to read over what he'd written. Well he'd decided he wasn't going to hold anything back, and that meant the good and the bad.
Sure, I guess you were probably angry with me because of me looking into Singer's pregnancy on my own time, but you need to understand. I thought Sergei was the father, and that's why I decided to take the blame. I thought I was protecting my unborn niece or nephew. I would do anything to protect family or friend. You know that Mac. If you're mad at me about that, or were mad at me about that, so be it. I guess you don't know me as well as I thought you did. When you finally did come by, you asked if I was okay, and then left before I could give you an answer. Typical, MacKenzie, very typical. (by the way, I've decided to let everything out here, so deal with it or stop reading, its your choice)
Now, let's talk about Paraguay, shall we? What the hell got into you? What the fuck were you thinking? I ask to table the discussion until we're somewhere safer, some place where people aren't going to be shooting at us, and because of this you decide that I'm trying to run the show and that it's not going to work out? You decide that "never" is the operative word? Well guess what Sarah? I wasn't trying to run the show, never was.
In case you didn't notice I didn't push you on that because I'd learned long ago when it came to relationships you don't like to be pushed. So I decided to respect you, respect your decision, no matter how much it hurt inside to do that. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? To decide that I was ready to tell you I loved you, only to find you in Webb's arms, kissing Webb, mooning over Webb, telling me we're never going to work.
And then you have the audacity to assume that I only ever had the Navy. I guess, as it turns out, you were right. I thought I had something with the woman I love, but apparently that was just a dream, gone in a wisp of smoke before the coming of the morning's light. Apparently the Navy was all I ever had, how foolish of me to not know that.
Harm had to stop writing as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Chances are Mac wouldn't even be reading the letter anymore if she got it. She'd be so mad he wouldn't put it past her to throw it out. But he wanted to get everything out.
And that hurt Sarah. Because I'd finally realized that what I'd felt all those years, what I'd been afraid of for all those years was my love for you. Funny, isn't it? But this last week has helped me see something. I think you still care for me Sarah, and for that I am grateful, more grateful than I could ever say. I am sorry that I cut myself off from you and everyone else, I'm sorry that you were all hurt by that. But I swear, I didn't do it to hurt you. Some of the things I've done Sarah, some of the things I've seen, I can't tell you about them, I can't burden you with them. And I am afraid that if you knew about them you would look upon me as some sort of monster. I know that I've become a monster; I know that you would be right to look at me that way. I try not to think of all the people I've killed this year, but they won't leave me alone. They come to me in the night, when the mind sleeps. They haunt me Sarah; they are getting their revenge upon me.
If I die out here on this mission in the middle of nowhere I ask only that you know that I did love you Sarah MacKenzie; that I've always loved you. That in my twisted way I cut myself off from you not because of my own pain, but rather to protect you. Though, I will admit that my pain played a role in my decision. Please do not think of me as I have become, think of me as I was when my love for you first grew, a blossom in the garden of roses.
Always and Only Yours,
H.R Jr.
P.S: Don't trust Webb.
And with that Harm laid down his pen and gently folded the pages in half.
Chapter 25
After the COD had come to a complete stop Harm uncrossed his arms and released his arrest harness. Standing up he noticed his hand was starting to shake again. With a savage curse that caused the two other passengers to look in his direction, Harm quickly grabbed onto the seatback in front of him until he felt the tremors pass. For three days he'd managed to keep his occasional shakes from Mac. He'd even managed to hide them from the doctors at the Company. Harm was just glad he didn't have an episode while getting ready for this operation.
"Lieutenant Commander? You need to get aboard now, sir. There's an Ensign waiting for you." The crew chief said as he came to stand next to Harm. Harm was glad he'd managed to convince the ops guys that anyone his age who was still a Lieutenant would at best be chained to a desk, not running around in the field.
"Thanks Chief." Harm said without bothering to mask the tension in his voice.
"First time in a COD, sir? It can be quite a shock to the system the first time you sit through an arrested landing." The Chief said with barely masked contempt in his eyes. How could this guy be a SEAL and get shook up to the point of trembling when landing in a COD?
"That will be all, Chief!" Harm snapped back when he caught the Chief's patronizing tone and the look in his eyes.
"Aye, aye." The Chief said sharply. "Sir." He added belatedly.
Biting his lip Harm grabbed his seabag and moved to the hatch. Dropping to the deck he saw a young female Ensign who reminded him a little of a younger Harriet Sims-Roberts. As soon as his feet hit the deck the Ensign was snapping off a sharp salute.
"Lieutenant Commander Post, I'm Ensign Gallows, the PAO aboard. Welcome to the Patrick Henry, sir. If you'll follow me the rest of your team is below in Squad Bay three."
"Thank you, Ensign." Harm said returning the salute. With a wry snort he shook his head as he finally admitted to himself how much he missed this.
"Sir?"
"Nothing Ensign. Lead the way."
"Aye, aye, sir."
When Harm and the Ensign had finally ducked inside the superstructure, Harm finally removed his helmet and vest. While on the deck he'd left it on just in case someone he knew was watching the arrivals. He needed to get below as soon as possible.
"Right this way, sir." Ensign Gallows gestured for Harm to follow her as she moved towards a nearby ladder well.
Silently Harm followed the Ensign without bothering to respond to her infrequent entreaties to draw him into conversation. As they were approaching the 03 deck Harm caught sight of a familiar figure coming down the corridor towards him, and from the way the man's eyes widened Harm was pretty sure that he'd been seen as well. Shit. Just what he needed to start this off.
"Harm?" Sturgis said in shock.
Harm stopped and came to attention immediately looking at a point beyond Sturgis' shoulder. "I'm sorry Commander, you must have me confused with someone else. I'm Lieutenant Commander Gregory Post."
Trying not to laugh at the confusion he saw pass over his old friend's face Harm continued to stare into space. "Ah, my mistake Commander. As you were."
With a slight shake of his head, as he relaxed from standing at attention, Harm tried to answer all of the questions in Turner's eyes. Once Sturgis continued on his way Harm let out a little sigh. At least Turner was smart enough not to ask awkward questions in front of Gallows or anyone else. He just hoped Sturgis was smart enough not to go to Toby and ask him what the hell Harm was doing on his ship masquerading as a Naval Officer. He could only hope.
As he rounded the corner in the passageway leading to the Squad Bay, Harm caught sight of Skates coming down a ladder at the end of the way. Damn it, he needed to get into that Squad Bay before someone else saw him.
"This is it, sir." Ensign Gallows started to say as Harm hurried into the Squad Bay and slammed the hatch behind him. Gallows shook her head disgustedly at the Lieutenant Commander's behavior. Damn SEALs thought they were better than everyone else.
With a sigh Harm pushed off from the hatch he had just closed to look up into the dim squad bay. He saw four men standing around a table at the end of the bay. That would be his new SEAL team, or at least most of them.
Moving towards the table a figure in BDUs stepped out of the shadows and stopped in front of Harm with arms crossed over his chest. "Who the hell do you think you are? Sir."
Dropping his seabag Harm took a second to look the man in front of him up and down. Five ten, probably two twenty. Built like a tree trunk. A Chief Petty Officer by the rank on his collar. With a quick punch to the solar plexus Harm had the Chief Petty Officer bent over double and quickly moved a leg to drop the man on the deck. Only one way to let this dog know who was boss.
"The name's Post. Lieutenant Commander Post. And I'm your worst nightmare Chief. Now pick up my bag and stow in on my rack." Harm said in a deathly quiet voice.
As he stepped around the man writhing on the ground Harm looked up to see the team's leader standing in his path. Stepping up to the Commander, Harm came to attention and shot off a salute. "Lieutenant Commander Post reporting, sir."
"Welcome aboard Commander. I'm Commander Munson. Stand at ease."
"Good to be here, sir. Heard you boys needed a pilot for this op."
"Figured they'd hook us up with some carrier jockey. Imagine my surprise to find out there's a fully qualified pilot serving with Two. How'd you like working with Rivers?" According to his cover, not even the Team knew Harm was CIA. Instead they'd been told he was a pilot who'd transferred into the SEALs and was serving with SEAL Team 2, who had been temporarily attached to their Team.
"He's a tough bastard, sir. A cowboy, but he gets the job done and brings us home."
Nodding at Harm's statement Munson let a brief smile play over his lips. Looking past Harm to where the Chief was picking himself up off the deck, the Commander snapped, "Damn it Perez, get your ass off the deck. Stow the Commander's bag on his rack and then go get him some grub." Turning to Harm the Commander nodded. "You've met Perez I see. Don't mind him, he thinks he's tough. Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the team."
After the introductions were made Harm and Munson moved over to the table to look over the plans for the op. According to the files Webb had left for Harm at Andrews, Hassa did actually have a Sea King chopper on his ship, which would be large enough for Harm to fly everyone out. Twenty minutes later when the hatch opened behind him Harm glanced over his shoulder figuring it would be Perez with his food. Instead he saw Sturgis step into the bay. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?
Both Harm and Munson came to attention when Turner came over to the table.
"As you were men. Commander Post, it's been a long time." Sturgis said with an edge to his voice.
"It has sir. How've you been?" Harm asked softly.
"Good, good. Can I have a word with you? In private?"
With a barely perceptible sigh, Harm nodded slightly and indicated the distant corner. Once both Harm and Sturgis had moved to the corner Harm shot a deadly glance at his long time friend. "Damn it Sturgis, what are you doing?"
"I think that's my line Commander Post. Last I heard you'd quit the Navy."
"Actually if you check with BuPers Lieutenant Commander Post is very active in his duties. Ex-carrier pilot, who decided to try his hand at being a SEAL. Comes in handy for certain ops." Harm said sarcastically. "Leave it alone Turner."
"Damn it Harm; we haven't seen you in months and this is how you turn up?"
"Look Sturgis, I can't tell you anything, alright? You're not cleared to know. Hell the Team doesn't even know what's going on. As far as they know I am Post, and Post is a pilot serving with SEAL 2. Leave it alone." Harm warned.
With a snort Sturgis shook his head. "I see you're enjoying your time on the Dark Side."
"Didn't have anything else left to me buddy. And it turns out I'm pretty good at the work."
"Harm..." Sturgis started.
Harm had had enough. "Shut it Sturgis. I'm not here, you didn't see me, and yeah, this conversation never took place. End of fucking discussion." Harm snapped quietly as he came to attention and saluted Sturgis. Turning on his heal Harm stalked back towards where Munson and the rest of the team were standing, trying not to look at Sturgis. He didn't see the look of frustration and anger that was naked on Sturgis' face as he himself strode to the hatch and moved through it, slamming it behind him.
"Everything okay, Post?" Munson asked when Harm had rejoined them at the table.
"Yeah. Met the guy when he did an inquiry on an op awhile ago. He ended up owing me $50 after a night of poker and never did pay it."
"Fucking JAGs, always poking their noses into our shit when we get back." One of the other SEALs muttered.
"Stow it Butts." Munson snapped at the man.
"Aye, sir." The PO answered sullenly.
"Alright guys, here's the plan for tomorrow..." Munson started up again. For the next two hours they went over everything from insertion to extraction. Harm spoke up in regards to the helicopter and its role in getting them all out of there. With a final look at the men around him Munson nodded his head in satisfaction. "That covers it. I'll pick up the letters in a couple of hours and then I want you guys to rack out. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. We ship out at 0400. Dismissed."
After a quick chorus of "Aye, sir." Harm shoved his seabag aside then moved towards his rack and sank down onto it. The letters, he'd forgotten about those. Who the hell was he going to write, anyway? He hadn't spoke to his mom in almost a year, and even though he'd had a few conversations with Frank after he left JAG, it had been almost as long since he'd spoken to his stepfather. He didn't have a wife or anyone else that the SEALs normally wrote their letters to. Maybe he should write one to Bud and Harriet for little AJ and Jimmy.
While Harm was lost in his thoughts Munson had walked up and put his foot up on the end of Harm's rack. When Harm noticed he was standing there Munson held out his hand to keep him from standing up. "Don't worry about it."
"What can I do for you, sir?" Harm asked.
"Drop the sir crap Post, we don't stand much on formality here. Call me Bob."
"Greg." Harm said after the barest moment's hesitation.
"That's not exactly true now, is it Greg." Bob said as he leaned closer to Harm.
"What are you getting at?" Harm asked warily as the words Bob was saying hit him.
"Don't get me wrong, I know you belong here the same as any of us, my guess is that you earned that Trident. And I know if you're here we need you for the op tomorrow. But you aren't serving with Two, are you Commander?"
"What the hell do you mean, Bob?"
"Cut the crap Greg. I was on the Seahawk three years ago in the Gulf when a certain crazy fighter jock decided he wanted to play tag with a dirty cruise missile. Funny thing is the jet jock wasn't carrier bound; if you can believe it he was a JAG. I owe that man my life; me and everyone else within ten miles of the Seahawk."
"Three years is a long time Bob."
"You're a long way from JAG Greg." Harm noticed that even though Munson was hinting that he knew who Harm was he was sticking to using his assumed name. Good man.
"Been a long way from JAG for a year now. Seems my services weren't required any longer, and another offer came up." Harm said with the barest hint of bitterness.
"Look, Greg. I'm not going to pretend I know everything that's going on here, and as much as it pisses me off to do it, I'm not going to ask any questions. I'm guessing it has something to do with that guy that was down here earlier though."
"What guy?"
"Can't miss him. He's the only one on the ship wearing a three piece suit."
"Shit. I can't get away from him, can I?" Harm said quietly to himself.
"You know him?" Munson asked without sounding shocked.
"Wish I didn't. If he's here I'm surprised he hasn't been down to torment me yet, he seems to enjoy making my life a living hell."
"Well, we'll see what we can do to keep that from happening; we look after our own. I'll set a couple of the boys to watching our friend in the suit." Munson said with a slight nod. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to your letter."
"Don't have anyone to write to." Harm said with a shrug.
"What do you mean? Everyone has someone they write to; even if it's an old high school or Academy buddy. Listen, Greg, take my word for it. You don't want to go out there and not come back leaving things unsaid. Even if its bullshit about how you miss all the shit you used to get up to in the Academy, put it down. You'll be able to feel better about it when your time comes that way." And with that Munson was wandering back across the squad bay to where the enlisted men were writing their own letters.
With a sigh Harm stared at the unrelenting grey bulkhead, trying to make sense of the jumble of thoughts and emotions running through his head. He should probably write his mom and Frank, but then again how do you say "Hi mom and dad. Sorry I haven't written or phoned in awhile, but I've become something of a cold blooded murderer in the name of my country. Been spending a lot of time in far off places killing people they tell me are a threat to the US. Love, Harm." Somehow he didn't think that would make the parents feel any better; never mind the fact that the Company would probably get its hand on his letter before his parents and they wouldn't let that slide. With a sigh, Harm shrugged his shoulders and looked up. "Butts!" he called out.
"Sir?"
"Bring me some of that damn paper and a pen."
"Aye sir."
Twenty minutes later Harm rubbed his eyes and leaned back against the bulkhead considering the letter he'd written his parents. He'd included some stuff for his mom to pass on to Sergei, but didn't really think a separate letter to his brother was called for. They'd drifted a bit even before Harm joined the CIA, so he wouldn't even know where to send it now. With a last glance to make sure there was enough to reassure his mother that he'd died in the service of his country, but not enough to worry her, he folded the papers in half and set them aside to be placed in an envelope.
The very fact that he'd been writing this letter surrounded by SEALs about to go on a covert op brought AJ to mind. Before he knew it, Harm was in the middle of writing a letter to his former CO, asking questions and providing answers that he felt his CO deserved. He tried to explain his behavior in recent years, feeling that AJ deserved some sort of explanation. He railed against AJ's decision to order everyone to stay away from him during his murder investigation, getting a little harsher than he'd planned. But most of all he asked questions about what he was feeling, about his sense of being lost. If anyone knew the answers it would be AJ, and even if he wasn't going to be around to hear the answers it felt better to have them out. Of course he'd never ask the questions in person, and the only way AJ was going to read this letter is if he was dead, but it did feel better in a way. He didn't bother going into that "I died with his boots on" crap with the old SEAL, AJ knew if Harm didn't come back, it was because something had gone wrong; be it luck or planning. With a bit of a flourish he signed his name and folded the paper without a second glance.
And now came the hard part. Deep down inside he wasn't sure if he wanted to write this final letter, but he also knew he had to. Bob was right, he didn't want to die with things left unsaid on his part. Sighing heavily, he set pen to paper once more and decided he wouldn't hold anything back.
Mac
No, that would never do...
Sarah,
Well I hate to say it, mostly because it sounds so melodramatic, but if you are reading this then I am most likely dead or captured. Sounds like something out of a bad late night movie, doesn't it? But, then again they say art imitates life, so there it is. You and I both know I can't really tell you what I'm doing, let me just reassure you that it is in the name of fighting that good fight we're always talking about. Sorry I couldn't go out in that blaze of glory with you, but I promise if I'm gone I'll do my best to make it a blaze to remember.
That should at least get a bit of a chuckle out of her Harm thought to himself as he bit onto the end of the pen in thought.
I'm not really sure what else to say beyond the requisite "If you're reading this, I am dead" crap. Where do I start Sarah? With the questions without answers? With the answers I think you are looking for? With my feelings for you? Yes, I still have, will always have, feelings for you Sarah. Feelings that run deeper than I ever knew feelings could. I think that's why things hurt so bad last year when none of you came to see me while I was in the brig. Bud and Harriet I can understand; they've got the boys to look after. Sturgis? Well I can't say I agree, but he's always been so by the book it must be stuck up his ass somewhere. But you Mac? You know that if the situations had been reversed, if any of you were in my place I'd be breaking down the door, breaking rules, regs and orders to see you and help. I guess I just thought even if the Admiral ordered you guys away, you of all people would do whatever it took to be there for me. I still can't say I understand, but it's in the past. I shall do my best to ignore the scar caused by that wound so that it may join the legion of other scars upon my soul.
Harm paused in his writing to read over what he'd written. Well he'd decided he wasn't going to hold anything back, and that meant the good and the bad.
Sure, I guess you were probably angry with me because of me looking into Singer's pregnancy on my own time, but you need to understand. I thought Sergei was the father, and that's why I decided to take the blame. I thought I was protecting my unborn niece or nephew. I would do anything to protect family or friend. You know that Mac. If you're mad at me about that, or were mad at me about that, so be it. I guess you don't know me as well as I thought you did. When you finally did come by, you asked if I was okay, and then left before I could give you an answer. Typical, MacKenzie, very typical. (by the way, I've decided to let everything out here, so deal with it or stop reading, its your choice)
Now, let's talk about Paraguay, shall we? What the hell got into you? What the fuck were you thinking? I ask to table the discussion until we're somewhere safer, some place where people aren't going to be shooting at us, and because of this you decide that I'm trying to run the show and that it's not going to work out? You decide that "never" is the operative word? Well guess what Sarah? I wasn't trying to run the show, never was.
In case you didn't notice I didn't push you on that because I'd learned long ago when it came to relationships you don't like to be pushed. So I decided to respect you, respect your decision, no matter how much it hurt inside to do that. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? To decide that I was ready to tell you I loved you, only to find you in Webb's arms, kissing Webb, mooning over Webb, telling me we're never going to work.
And then you have the audacity to assume that I only ever had the Navy. I guess, as it turns out, you were right. I thought I had something with the woman I love, but apparently that was just a dream, gone in a wisp of smoke before the coming of the morning's light. Apparently the Navy was all I ever had, how foolish of me to not know that.
Harm had to stop writing as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Chances are Mac wouldn't even be reading the letter anymore if she got it. She'd be so mad he wouldn't put it past her to throw it out. But he wanted to get everything out.
And that hurt Sarah. Because I'd finally realized that what I'd felt all those years, what I'd been afraid of for all those years was my love for you. Funny, isn't it? But this last week has helped me see something. I think you still care for me Sarah, and for that I am grateful, more grateful than I could ever say. I am sorry that I cut myself off from you and everyone else, I'm sorry that you were all hurt by that. But I swear, I didn't do it to hurt you. Some of the things I've done Sarah, some of the things I've seen, I can't tell you about them, I can't burden you with them. And I am afraid that if you knew about them you would look upon me as some sort of monster. I know that I've become a monster; I know that you would be right to look at me that way. I try not to think of all the people I've killed this year, but they won't leave me alone. They come to me in the night, when the mind sleeps. They haunt me Sarah; they are getting their revenge upon me.
If I die out here on this mission in the middle of nowhere I ask only that you know that I did love you Sarah MacKenzie; that I've always loved you. That in my twisted way I cut myself off from you not because of my own pain, but rather to protect you. Though, I will admit that my pain played a role in my decision. Please do not think of me as I have become, think of me as I was when my love for you first grew, a blossom in the garden of roses.
Always and Only Yours,
H.R Jr.
P.S: Don't trust Webb.
And with that Harm laid down his pen and gently folded the pages in half.