"I think the General is very pleasant." Sturgis sipped at his coffee and smiled over the mug at Mac as she shuffled through the break room looking for a stirrer. "We've run out."
"Just great," she sighed and leaned back against the countertop. "He may be your type but…"
"I thought you of all people would welcome him with open arms. Semper Fi and everything."
"Sure," she drawled. "That may have been true if he didn't send me for two out-of-HQ investigations consecutively. Semper Fi is right," she raised her mug of unmixed and very unpleasant coffee into the air dramatically.
"Hoorah," Sturgis murmured as he turned around to wash out his empty mug. "Maybe he thinks you're just the best for the job. Don't take it so hard," he offered.
She took in a deep breath and held it as Cresswell walked into the break room, putting an abrupt end to their conversation.
"Did Coates give you the details of your departure?"
"Yes, Sir," she nodded and started to inch her way out of the room before a lengthy discussion could arise, "1100 tomorrow."
"Mac…" Sturgis began, his eyes going wide with alarm. He too tried to leave the room, but Cresswell's form blocked the only route of escape. Mac smiled despite herself; Cresswell was very pleasant indeed.
"Colonel Mackenzie," Cresswell called back to her.
She stopped in her tracks, forced a smile and turned around. "Sir?"
"If I could speak to you for a moment."
"Of course."
Sturgis took the opportunity to excuse himself and dashed out before anyone could stop him.
"You are alright with pursuing this DDO," the General asked, opening one of the cupboards and shifting around the contents.
She nodded. A sense of dread left her feeling sick at the pit of her stomach, but she managed to feign nonchalance. "I'm fine, Sir. If I gave you any other impression, General, I apologize. It was inadvertent. I was just a bit worn out from the earlier travelling."
"I'm sure," he continued, "but I believe Commander Rabb thinks I'm being unfair."
Mac fought the sudden urge to run and throttle Harm. Now she knew why he had stayed behind after their briefing. She fell silent. It was as if he was picking her to pieces with his scrutinizing gaze.
Coates flew into the room, and Mac thanked God for the badly needed distraction. "General, SecNav on line two. He says it's urgent."
"I'll be right there," Cresswell said, striding out without a word or look in her direction.
As Mac and Lieutenant Jeffery Troy sped down the road in the government issued car, a strange sputtering emanated from the automobile.
"That doesn't sound to good, Ma'am," Troy said from the passenger side. "Maybe we should stop."
She nodded in agreement, but the car stalled and stopped itself before she could react. They coasted to the side of the road. Thankfully, the lanes were deserted as far as she could see when they got out. As she rounded to the front of the car, Troy had already popped the hood up. There was nothing visibly wrong with the engine; no smoking, no sparks, no flames. She needed more to make an analysis.
"Do you know much about cars, Lieutenant?"
"Not enough, Ma'am."
"Me neither," she sighed. "I'll go get my cell."
Troy nodded and studied the mechanized innards of the car's engine with a furrowed brow.
She admitted that the investigation had gone without event, even if the whole thing was to her chagrin. Troy was a polite, competent junior lawyer who handled the case with surprising ease. She would occasionally step in and guide him in the correct direction, but he generally handled things by himself, and for that, she was thankful.
As she shuffled through the contents of her briefcase, Mac was alarmed to find no cellular phone. She emptied out most of her belongings onto the seat and sifted through them.
"I must have left it back at the base…"
"No problem," Troy shouted over the roar of a passing pick-up. He went through his pockets to pull out a sleek, black phone. He handed it over the Mac, who sighed in relief; she could smell the imminent rain in the air, and the ominous dark clouds were unsettling.
She flipped the phone open to be greeted by a flashing, bold message "LOW BATTERY". The device shut off automatically to leave her staring at the blank screen in mixed bewilderment and horror.
"Please, no," she muttered. "Lieutenant?"
Troy snatched the phone from her hands, mirroring her dismay. "Oh, no…I guess I forgot to charge it last night, Colonel."
Mac put her hands to her hips and hung her head in disappointment. She had insisted they take a 'short-cut' through the suburban areas, rather than going straight on the congested beltway. Because of that decision, she and Troy were stuck on the forested, undeveloped road, without a house in sight.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Troy said, ashamed with himself, "it was stupid of me. I should have-"
She waved him off. "If I hadn't been so absentminded, we could've used mine. It's not your fault. We just need a way to get out of here."
"Get in the car, Ma'am. We'll try to start it up again."
Mac nodded, snapped the driver door open and slid into her seat. She turned the key forcefully in the ignition, and a drawn out whining erupted from the car's engine as Troy went behind the car and started to push it. Mac decided his chances for successfully propelling the car weren't good; it wasn't that he was unfit, but he was incredibly slim and tall. He could have easily rivaled Harm in height, but lacked the brawn that was obviously needed for such a feet; he was all skin and bones. She was surprised that he didn't snap in the middle because of the excess exertion.
Mac's eyes went wide with a sudden hope and the car rolled forward gently, about four feet before it stopped again. She heard Troy groan loudly and he pressed against the rear bumper of the car with all his might.
"Come on," she whispered fiercely, pressing down on the gas pedal as hard as possible. It was all to no avail, though.
Mac shifted out of the car and jogged to Troy, who was leaning heavily against the trunk of the car breathlessly. "Sorry…Ma'am…I'll try…again."
"Don't give yourself a hernia, Lieutenant. Get in the car, I'll give it a go."
"Ma'am?" he asked dubiously as he pushed himself up. "Are you sure?"
She motioned with her thumb to the driver's seat. "But I'll need your shoes." She slid out of her heels, opened the back door of the car and threw them in. Just as she made her way to Troy's spot, a drizzle came down around them.
Troy didn't question her as he kicked off his loafers and made his way to the car. He got in and yelled out that he was ready. Mac tied on the much-too-big shoes and braced herself behind the car. The familiar wail rose from the car's hood as she started to push the car forward.
The rain came down harder, rapping against everything with such force that the pattering noise nearly overtook the clamor of the car. Mac blew her unruly hair from her face and before she knew it, the car started to roll away from her.
She gave a cry of victory and started to stumble after it. The Lieutenant stopped after a moment, and waited as she clumsily made her way to him in the clown-like footwear. She slid in breathlessly and smiled to the grinning Lieutenant.
"I'll be sure not to tell that to my girlfriend, Ma'am. If anyone asks, can I be the one who saved us?"
Mac arched an eyebrow and laughed, pushing back a lock of damp hair behind her ear. "My lips are sealed, Lieutenant."
Harm was just about to open the door to his Lexus when he saw the gray car pull up to the parking lot. The rain had stopped no more than fifteen minutes ago, and left a crisp chill in the air.
The car parked hastily in a spot across from him, and the tall figure of Lieutenant Troy emerged from the driver's side. Harm arched an eyebrow incredulously when he noticed that Troy was lacking in footwear. Troy stood in his spot until the passenger, Mac, came out from the other side and shuffled over to him.
Harm could hear the loud thudding of her feet, and saw that she wore men's shoes. She pushed them off, dropped her own heels on the ground with a 'thunk' and slid back into them. Troy smiled, shook her hand and started in the other direction, towards his own car.
Mac sighed and went towards her 'vette. She saw Harm leaning against her Lexus with a grin.
She put her hand up. "Don't ask."
"That was strange," he laughed.
"Things are not going my way," she said. "Thank God they'll pick up that hunk of junk themselves. I don't want to drive it anymore."
Harm saw as she approached that her uniform was dark and damp. She ran her fingers through her hair and squeezed out a few drops of water before placing her briefcase to the floor and getting out her keys.
"What happened?"
She brought her arm to the roof of her car and leaned up against it with a huff. "I had to push the car in the rain. Why? Because the damned thing stalled, but my cell phone got misplaced, and Lieutenant Troy's cell phone died. I also decided to take the scenic route back home from Andrews Airforce Base, because General Cresswell sent me there and because he hates me."
Harm winced. "I see."
"My feet are killing me."
"Cresswell's given you another new case, you know. Told me to inform you of it."
She frowned and threw her hands up with exasperation. "Don't tell me…to Quantico for some Lieutenant who vandalized the head with spray paint. Or Norfolk, or-"
"Actually, right here. With me."
"Oh," she said, losing her angry momentum. "Good."
"We're both on the prosecution team against Lieutenant Jacob Le Salle, accused of murdering fellow crewman Petty Officer Simon Keefe. Mattoni's going to try to pull one on us, it's been a while since we've been on the same side. The problem is Keefe is the nephew of the three-star, Admiral Peterson."
"It has been a while," she agreed, "but I thought we were a pretty good team."
"We are a damn good team," he corrected, "and we'll show that to Mattoni."
"I'm sure we will. And as long as I don't have to leave again on investigation, I'll work my butt off on this," Mac nodded. Her mind wandered to her conversation with Cresswell in the break room. "Harm?"
"Yeah."
"I appreciate what you did for me. I didn't…I didn't deserve it," she said honestly, "but if Cresswell hears about my constant complaining, I'm out of here."
It took him a moment to realize that she was referring to his little 'chat' with the General. "Sorry, Mac. I thought I'd just give it a try, even if it was of no use."
"And I understand that," she said gently, choosing her choice of words carefully, "that's why I said thanks. I just think you'd better leave my problems with him to me…I don't want you to get mixed up unnecessarily, just when you've gotten back to the Navy."
Harm conceded with a shrug. "I guess Cresswell isn't out to get you after all. I think he just wanted Lieutenant Troy to have the best mentor possible for his first case here."
"Maybe," Mac shrugged, "although I'd have picked you."
"You'd better get home then. I doubt you feel very comfortable in that," he motioned towards her damp uniform and chose to ignore her comment.
She felt sticky, heavy and cold. Mac nodded and started to take a step back to go back to her side of the car. "See you later."
"Bye," he waved slightly and went into his own vehicle.
Just as she was about to duck to get into the car, his voice stopped her and she poked her head up. "What?"
"Do you want a ride? You look pretty…dead."
"I appreciate it," she smirked, "I know I don't look like a million bucks…"
He put his hands up. "No, no, you look great."
The smile fell from her face as she wrung her hands together nervously. "Thanks."
"I'm just guessing you're tired."
"I am," she admitted, "but I don't want to get your car all soppy."
"It needs a clean anyway."
"I'd be imposing."
He shook his head, a bit annoyed at her continual protest. "If you were, I wouldn't have offered."
"How would I get to work tomorrow?" The question sounded lame even in her ears.
"I'll pick you up in the morning and get you here."
"Are you sure this is what we need right now?" He shot her a quizzical look. "After everything."
Harm sighed and opened his car door, abruptly sliding into the seat. "Fine Mac, goodnight."
She hadn't said 'no', but he didn't need her constant indecision on his mind. He took of his cover and placed it neatly in the middle of the empty passenger seat.
"I'm sorry," she managed to whisper. Her throat felt dry and swollen, and she didn't look back to him as she started up the Corvette and left the JAG lot.
TBC