AN: I realize this fic deviates from the norm as far as the characters' personalities and reactions are concerned. Please bear with me. The story gets better soon enough. Feedback is gladly accepted. I appreciate advise on how to improve my writing technique and build on the plot.
'Eighteen hours.' Time drawled out its hands and the seconds beat constantly, rhythmically in her head like the throbbing drums of war-hungry Indians. She cursed her uncanny ability to keep time, knowing that this time every beat of the clock would determine the fate of her best friend. 'Maybe I shouldn't have been so aggressive in court today. Maybe I should have backed off. I knew I had won. Why did I push it? God, it's all my fault Harm is hurt.' Mac slid down the cold hospital wall and rested her head between her arms. Tears burned unshed in her tired eyes as she fought to regain some semblance of self control. A hand gently touched her shoulder. Startled, she jumped to her feet.
"Colonel," the Admiral started, genuinely concerned and a bit taken aback. "Are you okay?"
Embarrassed by her own overreaction, Mac stumbled over an apology but was silenced by her commanding officer's hand. In the stern, commanding voice that had so often subdued even the wildest servicemen, he ordered her to sit. "Mac," he said softly taking a seat beside her, "he's going to be okay." He paused to study her, searching her face for some emotion. He saw none. Her eyes focused before her, fixed on a spot on the opposite wall. She composed herself like the strong Marine he knew her to be, but he sensed her distress. "No one will think less of you for crying. We all have to at some point.''
She jerked her head to face him, suddenly enraged. "You think me that weak? You think I'd just lie down and die because Harm could be dying? I am a Marine. Marines don't cry when things go wrong." Tears once again burned in her eyes and she found herself once again fighting to retain her composure. It was a losing battle, she realized, and let defeat consume her. "We can't cry." The intense fire in her eyes dissipated, replaced instead with a deep, defeated sadness and the admiral softened even more, surprised by the dramatic emotional change in his finest Marine officer. As she curled herself forward and wrapped her arms around her stomach, she let the long withheld tears fall freely. "He can't leave me," Mac cried repeatedly, "I need him. I love him. He can't leave me."
Unsure of how to react to Mac's outburst, Admiral Chegwidden reached for her. He had always considered this tenacious and courageous woman a daughter to him, and it broke his heart to see her distressed. Calmly he comforted Mac, whispering kind words of solace as he held her.
"Admiral Chegwidden, Mac," a familiar voice called from the end of the corridor. Both officers looked up and cringed at the sight of Clayton Webb.
"Damn it! Not this, not now," Mac groaned and abruptly stood. She walked briskly down the corridor away from the approaching man.
Webb hurried down the hall to the Admiral, "What the hell was that all about?" he asked as his gaze followed Mac's receding figure.
"What do you want Webb," the Admiral ground out. It was no secret that Admiral Chegwidden despised Webb. Everything from the spook's smug disregard of courtesy to his reckless and often deadly operations (which his people always ended up in the middle of) drove him to the brink of violence. His presence at such a critical time could only exacerbate the severity of the incident.
"Can't a guy support his friends during tragedy?"
"You don't show up unless you want something," the Admiral snarled. Webb studied the Admiral's menacing countenence and threw his hands up in resignation.
"Okay," he sighed, "I needed to speak with Colonel MacKensie about the trial. My superiors and I have reason to believe that Rabb's client,Corporal Damon Rauch,is the mole who has been leaking classified information to Saudi Arabia. Mac interrogated him and called me afterward, saying that she suspected hewas involved in something far greater than what he was being charged with. She didn't say much on the phone; I need to know exactly what she found out."
"Webb, her best friend is in critical condition. You can ask her for details later," Admiral Chegwidden roared and began pacing. "My God, can you be any more callous?"
"AJ, she may be in danger!" Webb rejoined, clenching his fists.
What do you think?