Author's Notes: Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews! I love getting them! I know that things are historically accurate but it's fiction; a piece of my imagination. Anyway, I hope that you all enjoy the story!
Disclaimer: don't own JAG.
Chapter Three: Bravo Zulu
2106 EST
14 January 1991
Lt. Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment
Apartment 204
Georgetown Heights Apartment
Georgetown
Unlocking my apartment, I switch on a light and sigh. I can't believe I'm leaving again. We leave tomorrow for the Persian Gulf. Which means I have to pack and get some sleep before Matt picks me up at 0530. Going into my bedroom, I grab my seabag out of the closet. My uniforms aren't clean but I'll have cleaned once we're underway.
I open my top drawer and pull out my extra wings. I keep them tucked away and I run my hand over them. My wings are my pride and joy. They represent all I've accomplished and all that I live for.
I need some music. Picking up the remote, I hit the play button and soft, classical music begins to play. Harm always laughed at me for listening to classical music when I needed to calm down.
Harm? Where did that come from? I haven't seen or talked to him in years.
I miss him. I miss his smile and his laugh. I wish I hadn't sent the ring back. Maybe I made a hasty decision.
Going back to the drawer, I pull out a picture of Harm. It's one of my favorites. Joy took it right after our second-year summer cruise. Harm had lifted me up and thrown me over his shoulder and Joy caught the picture as Harm was laughing. I tuck the picture into my seabag.
I wonder if Harm's going to the Gulf.
2236 EST
14 January 1991
Captain Harmon Rabb's Apartment
1665 Liberty Street
North of Union Station
Washington, D.C.
Sometimes I hate being in the military. I hate orders that take me away from everything and everyone I know. Sighing, I grab my bag and throw my uniforms in. I'll probably be wearing fatigues most of the time but I'm required to bring my dress uniforms.
I hit the remote and jazz music comes on. I love jazz and I smile as I listen to the sax and the trumpet.
My mom brought this chest when I was little and filled it with important things. I shipped here when I got my apartment. It holds some of my most special treasures. It sits at the end of my bed, completely contrasting with the rest of my modern apartment. Opening the chest, I pull out the engagement ring that Mac sent back. I have yet to figure out why Mac sent it back, without a note; just addressed to me. I miss her. She is the love of my life and I just want to see her again.
I keep digging in the chest and pull my teddy bear, a picture of my father, and my first guitar. At the bottom, I find a card that Mac sent me one year for Valentine's Day when we were third-years at the Academy. Sturgis delivered it to me and I waited until Jack and I were alone in our quarters before I opened it. It was a rather simple card but it just has one thing written on it: To Harm, all my love, Sarah. She didn't need to write anything else.
If Mac is going to this war, I hope that she's safe.
0334 EST
17 January 1991
Tomcat 208
Airspace over Iraq
"Alright, Matt, let's finish this mission and head home."
"Roger that, Shadow."
"Bomber One, this is Hatter One. How ya doing?"
"Hatter One, this is Bomber One. We're doing just fine. We just dropped the last of the ordinance."
"Roger that, Bomber One. We're doing fine over here. Shit, what the hell was that?"
"It looked like AAA."
"I thought we wiped out the last of them a few days ago."
"Apparently not, Shadow. Now, will you shut up and keep this damn plane in the air?"
"Do you always have to be such an ass, Matt?"
"No, but if it gets out sixes home, then I'll do it."
"Shit, the right engine just went out. Restarting power."
"It's not working, Shadow."
"Engine One is out and it's not restarting."
"Shit. We're going down, Shadow. Mayday, mayday, this is Tomcat 208. We have been hit and we're going down. Location is 41 degrees southwest latitude, 135 degrees northwest longitude."
"Shadow, good luck."
"Bravo Zulu, Matt. See you down there." I say, punching out. Harm, wherever you are, I love you.
0203 EST
4 March 1991
Desert
Iraq
"City Desk, this is Angel. We have picked up Lt. Mackenzie. Do you copy?"
"Copy that, Angel. What is your ETA?"
"City Desk, Angel's ETA home is about 14 minutes."
"Roger that, Angel."
"City Desk, requesting a medic team to be ready when we land."
"Affirmative, Angel. See you in a few."
2405 EST
4 March 1991
Captain Harmon Rabb's Quarters
Desert
Kuwait
"Captain Rabb, there's a phone call for you." Someone says, shaking my shoulder till I wake up.
"What?"
"Sir, there's a phone call for you. It's the skipper of the JFK." The young Marine says.
"Alright, I'm coming." I say, getting out of bed and putting on my boots and jacket.
I follow him to where the communications center is and pick up the phone, "This is Captain Rabb."
"Captain Rabb, this is Captain Jaison. You were listed as the next-of-kin for Lieutenant Sarah Mackenzie."
"Yes sir." I am? I was? When did that happen?
"Captain, I'm calling to let you know that we have successfully rescued the lieutenant and she is critical condition in sick bay. We're sending her to Ramstein in Germany for treatment."
"Thank you sir. Is there anyway I could see her?"
"I'm sure that you could meet up with at Ramstein."
"Thank you sir." I say.
"You're welcome, Captain. Good luck."
"Thanks sir." I say as we hang up.
Sarah will be okay. She has to be.
1103 EST
22 September 1991
Lt. Sarah Mackenzie's Room
Room 204
Base Hospital
Ramstein Air Base
Germany
"Lieutenant, I need to speak to you." Dr. Jones says as I raise the head of my bed.
"About what, sir." I ask, reminding myself that this man is a commander.
"Lieutenant, your tests show that you have a crushed knee and need surgery. We are sending to Bethesda Hospital after the surgery."
"Will it make the pain stop?" I ask quietly.
"Sarah," he says, using my first name, "Your knee is very badly crushed. It will take a few surgeries to repair the damages and you will need to learn how to walk again. Is there anyone that we call for you?"
"My friends are out at sea right now; I'm not speaking to my parents or my fiancé; I don't know where my sister or brother are. So, the answer Is no, sir." I say quietly.
"Isn't there anyone else?"
"No, it's just me. It's always been that way." I say, tears coming to my eyes.
"Alright. We're scheduling the surgery for a few days from now."
"Thank you sir." I say and turn my head to the wall.
"If you need anything, please let one of the nurses know." He says as he heads out.
God, why did this happen to me? I mean, I was just a regular person, who happened to fly one of the most deadliest airplanes in the sky. I don't know how I can go on without Matt. He was the one person I trusted in this whole damn world. Why did this happen?
End Chapter Three.
