6
JAG HQ,
Falls Church, VA
One Month Later
1130 (Local/Military Time)
The two detectives, visitors' badges dangling from their lapels on their suit jackets, stood at the entry of the bullpen, looking a bit lost.
"Jeeze, Lennie. I don't think I've seen so many military uniforms in one place except on television," Ed muttered under his breath.
Lennie grunted. "Well, it's been a while." He looked around and spotted a blonde in a pregnant white uniform ("Pregnant?"—he wondered in his mind) coming towards him. "You didn't serve, did you?"
Ed shook his head. Lennie continued. "It's been a while—Vietnam." He shook his head as the lieutenant—was that right?—came closer.
"Hi. I'm Lt. Harriet Simms—can I help you?" She stuck her hand out for a handshake. Lennie took it and shook it in greeting, as he introduced his partner and himself.
'Hi. Detectives Lennie Brisco and," he motioned back to his partner who stood just slightly behind him, "Ed Green, New York Police Department." There was just something in the air that propelled a more formal and dignified approach. "We're looking for—"and he glanced down at a note he held in his hand—"Commander Harmon Rabb and Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. We understand they work here."
The blonde officer dropped her hand as she nodded. "Yes. But they're both in court right now." She lifted her left hand to look at her watch. "They should be breaking momentarily for lunch, I think. Did you want to wait in either of their offices?"
Ed glanced at Lennie. "Which one did you want to interview?"
"I'll take the Commander. You can interview the Colonel." Lennie made an arbitrary decision on the spot.
"Okay." Ed turned on the charm and responded to the young officer in front of him. "There you go."
Harriet nodded. "If you will follow me, I'll take you to their offices. Did you need anything while you wait, coffee, tea. . ."
Both detectives shook their heads.
Precinct Office
New York City, NY
1400 Local Time (2:00 civilian time)
"Ya know, Ed, I don't 'get' it." Lennie was frown down at his notes. Ed knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Yeah, I know. There's a time gap in Commander Rabb's and Colonel MacKenzie's statements." He too was frowning and staring down at his own notes.
After a rather intensive three weeks of interviewing survivors, injured, and other witnesses—and sifting through the resulting mound of paperwork, the detectives had narrowed down contradictions and blank spots in statements to three people: the commander, the colonel, and a low-ranking sailor, one Seaman 2nd Class Ishmael Mohammed Rasheed.
"Let's go over the military statements again. Maybe we're missing something."Lennie sighed.
"Their statements agree with each other up to the point of just before the explosion. Colonel MacKenzie says they had stepped out for 'some fresh air'".
Lennie lifted both arms to his head and ran both hands through his hair in frustration. "And Command Rabb says they were on the elevator when the explosion hit."
"Not exactly contradictory, but not in total agreement, either." Ed's eyebrows came down in focused attention to detail. He glanced at his partner. "You think they're hiding something?"
Lennie replied, "I don't 'think' hiding; I know they're hiding something!" The suspicion was laid out on the table.
Ed commented, "It doesn't make sense—both work in the military legal system, both are well-established officers—although in Washington, not exactly 'king/queen of the hill'—in Washington, generals and admirals are a 'dime a dozen'. And just exactly what connection do they have with a really low-ranking sailor on leave who just happens to be visiting family at the time? They should know better." He grunted. "I suppose one way of resolving this is to try to get their service records. That would tell us what kind of people they are or interview their colleagues—and their CO."
Lennie groused. "And raise the suspicions of the Navy Judge Advocate General himself? I don't think so."
Ed raised his eyebrow in a silent question.
Lennie argued, "Think. This is the military. They would protect their own."
"Man, you are paranoid."
Lennie shook his head. "I remember Vietnam and the way the military way 'back then." He gritted his teeth and closed his eye remembering a painful past. "The military lied to the President all the way down." He opened his eyes and looked at his partner. "I don't honestly trust the military AT all—not even the Judge Advocate General of the Navy—maybe, especially not him."
"Why not?" Ed was genuinely curious.
Lennie snorted in frustration. "They're all lawyers! Do I need to say more?"
Ed grinned and shook his head and then added, "I think we need to talk to Annita," as he picked up his phone to ask for some time with their supervisor.
The order came down: get those service records.
Precinct Office
New York City, NY
1400 Local Time (2:00 civilian time)
Ed and Lennie were both at their desks, gazing in profound frustration at military service records, Ed looking Colonel MacKenzie's service folder and Lennie looking at Commander Rabb's records.
"Half—at least HALF—of this record—" Ed waved his right arm over "his" folder—"is redacted! 'Classified' seems to be every other word."
Lennie grunted. "Well, this record isn't much better." He sighed. "A conversation with Anita is in order again." He lifted the handset on his phone to place the call.
There was another service record laying between their two desks, too: that of Seaman Rasheed. It was much thinner and nothing in it was "blanked out"—but, he, too, had not been cleared of suspicion.
After a conversation with their chief, the records went to Jack McCoy's office.
District Attorney's Office
New York City, NY
Next Day, 1000 (Military time; 10:00 a.m. Civilian Time)
Abby was at her desk perusing the service folders the detectives sent over, when Jack came strolling into her office.
"How's it going? Making any sense of the detectives' complaints?" He asked.
The frown on her pretty face deepened.
"It's all a blank. So far as I can tell, both are highly decorated officers—he's got a Silver Star, two Distinguished Flying Crosses, and both are very well traveled. Russia—twice, for God's sake—Afghanistan, Iraq—for both of them. But the details are not there. And, in Commander Rabb's case, there's a blank of approximately three months. There's nothing there!"
Jack's eyebrows lifted. "Really? I think it's time to call them in for a chat."
District Attorney's Office
New York City, NY
A week later
1300 (Military time; 1:00 p.m. Civilian Time)
"Stand down, Commander." There was enough steel in that voice to bring the commander to attention and to even make the civilian backbones snap to.. A chill went down Abby's backbone. "You will go get the car and bring it to the front of the building. I will meet you there." Col. MacKenzie handed keys to the Commander, who executed a perfect about face, face cold and "set in stone".
"Yes, mamm." He left the room, spine ram-rod straight to the elevators. In the meantime, the Colonel turned to face Jack.
"You, sir, haven't heard the last of this." Those furious brown eyes turned the full glare to Abby's face. "We will be getting in touch with you later on."
Abby shook herself from the shock that had grabbed her. "Your call will be most welcome." She found herself whispering. Her eyes followed the Colonel's retreating figure to the elevator where she joined the stiff-spined Commander. Her eyes only broke away when the two military officers entered the elevator. Then she turned to Jack.
"Are you okay?"
He was shaking himself.
"Wow! What was that?" A smirk started appearing around Abby's lips.
"Well, among other things, it looked like two alpha males going after a female."
That got Jack's attention.
"Huh?" He was thoroughly confused. "We weren't talking about any particular female . . ."
Abby shook her head in impatience. "I said that's what it looked like. I didn't say it was it was about a female." She peered at Jack. "Somewhere along the way, a nerve was touched." Now that she knew Jack was okay, she allowed herself a deep relaxing breath and a small chuckle. "You looked like you were more than willing to take on the Commander."
Jack put his hand on the back of his neck and rubbed it, all along shaking his head as if to clear out the cobwebs.
"I don't think I would have wanted to even try."
At that, Abby did giggle a little. "That would have been like ramming your head into a brick wall."
"You know, that encounter reminded me of nothing more or less than a couple of bantam roosters squaring off." Abby shook herself as the memory of the confrontation flittered across her memory. She turned to look at Jack and giggled. "Or a couple of tom cats."
Jack's mouth turned down in a frown.
"I mean, just look at you. You're looking like a cat getting its fur back into place after a cat fight."
Jack caught himself smiling a little as he was reminded of Abby's Texas background. "You're right—I touched a nerve somewhere. Now just what was it I said that generated that kind of response?"
Abby frowned as she checked her memory. "You were 'informing' the Commander you would ask their C.O. if there was any reason either one of them would lie about their whereabouts." She sighed. "They seem to be such 'straight arrows'—either one of them—but they're obviously hiding something." She turned to Jack. "Any ideas?"
"Nope." He ruffled his hair with his hands. "We'll just have to wait to see what their CO says." He took another deep breath. The confrontation with the Naval Commander shook him more than he wanted to admit. "Any conclusions on Rasheed, by the way?"